Unintended Consequences

The man, the Master of Anderkine, sits on the throne, flesh and skin stretched tightly over his bones. His cold eyes are hidden beneath thin lids and his mouth is set in a hard line, lips pale and bloodless. I pause for a moment upon seeing him, watching for a hint of movement, before cautiously padding further into the long chamber. The fallen skeletons of other thieves litter the floor, victims of traps, and I check each as I pass. In the ruins of one rogue's pouch I retrieve a ring bearing the seal of an ancient realm, family legend has it that we're descended from its last king. I recover only a handful of gems from the other dead, feeling my own pouch grow heavy, and finally halt in front of the throne.

Fear flashes through me as I notice the Master's eyes are on me, malice in their depths. My fingers close around both the hilt of my sword and the jewel I'd stolen in Hasdrumar, gaining courage from the two items. The Master's lips twitches, there's a hint of a smirk, and he rises, dust falling from his frame and onto the floor. I stumble backwards as the Master takes a step towards me, a prayer escaping me, and he pauses.

"You speak the name of one I called brother?"

I latch onto the whispered words like a lifeline, tightening the grip I have on the jewel.

"I invoke the attention of my god."

The Master's laughter sends chills down my spine and he spreads his arms wide.

"My brother was no god little mortal." The claim incenses me, I overcome my fear, and lash out with my blade. Again the Master laughs, effortlessly catching the metal of my sword on his bracer. "I have lived for ten thousand years, ruled the world from just this hall. You think to slay me?!"

I skitter backwards as the Master spits out harsh words, my very soul quivers with each utterance, and my eyes widen as I catch movement on the edge of my vision.

The skeletons of the slain thieves shamble towards me, unseen energies animating their bones. Several carry swords, designs from all over the world are ranged against me, and I back towards a pillar, shooting a glare at the Master of Anderkine. He has stepped back, letting his constructs crowd me, and then I have to dismiss him, swinging to deflect a descending blade. I let go of the jewel, snatching at my dagger in desperation, and smash an arm-bone into fragments, letting out a brief sigh of relief. I have to become a whirlwind, metal flying in all directions, and steadily cut down the mass of skeletons.

The last crumbles, its skull in pieces, and I'm breathing heavily, feeling like I'm coated in bone dust. The Master seems unconcerned, no change to his impassive look, and I take a shaky step closer to him, flicking dust from my sword.

"What drives you? What bought the last of House Gerain to my domain?"

"The love of a woman. You are tormenting the soul of a girl."

Confusion quickly races across the Master's face, his gaze defocuses.

"I get so many petitions. So many are petty and cost little." He turns, I feel my cheeks burn at the blatant dismissal. "You thought destroying me would end the torment. I suppose it would. It would also end a great many other things as well."

I swallow, hearing the leather wrapped around my sword's hilt creak.

"For my love it would be worth it."

"So be it." The Master of Anderkine returns to his throne, settles himself on the ancient chair. "Strike down the last of the immortals. Put an end to the Age of Heroes."

I inwardly scoff at the Master's grandiose comment and my sword flashes, smoothly cutting through his neck. There's a moment of silence before the Master's head topples into his lap and then I'm buffeted by a wave of power that roars from the Master's corpse.

I think of his words as I stare at his body, spare a thought about who else was using the Master's power. A horror fills me as I recall a legend from the nation at the foot of Anderkine, where my love lives. It was said that men seized the realm from the hands of daemons, that they had assistance from a great sorcerer in banishing them. I rush through the Master's stronghold, heedless of my own safety, and then drop to my knees upon feeling the sun on my skin. Screams are cutting through the air, terrified and pain-filled, and smoke is already rising into the air above the city.

My love's down there.