Demise

She stood there, looking brilliant. The long mage staff in her hand with the hand carved falcon on the top, shone with a powerful red light.

They all looked at her in awe, as she raised her falcon-staff and said with a clear voice

>>Tremble mortals, tremble with fear

They looked at her, fear showing like pools of darkness in their eyes, she was a fearsome sight to behold as she stood there in her long red robe. She was standing atop the small hill in the middle of the village, right next to the altar. The altar that had just always been there, placed by some elders great-great-grand father, or something else. It was a relic that had always just been there, and nobody had ever cared about.

Till today.

She was looming over them, musing how foolish they had been to leave a source of almost infinite power untapped. But then again, they were mortals, human nonetheless, and surely they were too weak to even sense the might of the altar. Like sheep they had been living their daily lives, farming, doing whatever puny humans did, without the most distant idea that the altar in the middle of the town held power to rival the gods.

Just then a young man, a warrior who had been sneaking up behind her, taking advantage of the fact that she had stopped her almost maniacal laughter and was staring somewhat blankly into space, obviously thinking, and ran her through with his sword. She let out a furious shriek that had everybody from where she was overlooking the hill to their knees, and raised her arms. As she let go of her staff, that didn't fall to the ground but stood still mid-air and held her hands above her head, flames covered her body. The sword faded into nothing instantly and the w8ound began closing at a fantastic speed. The young man stumbled backwards, obviously scared to death, as she turned around slowly with a cruel grin on her face.

She had never cared for the race of man. They'd never done anything good for the world, always expanding their borders, cutting down the woods, changing the rivers' flow, and waging war on everybody and everything, including each other. Again she raised her hands, moving them in a magical pattern. She didn't have to do it, as a demi-god she was more than capable of

conjuring up this spell without even moving her lips, but this spell worked best if the target was frightened, and she had never actually tried it before, so she moved her hands in more vivid patterns than ordinarily necessary for even the puniest human mage apprentice and spoke the magical words of death with a clear voice, that would have chilled any human to the bone on a 50 feet distance. She felt the well known tickle of a successfully casted spell and released all the energy at once, as her master had learned her. Flames arose from the ground around the young boy, who screamed

Heartbreakingly with pain as his body was transformed slowly. Metas grin widened as from

What has been a young boy with a sword moments ago an efreet rose.

>>What is your wish, master?

It asked, not showing any emotion.

>>Take care of the villagers for me, while I prepare the ritual. Yes,

>>mistress

The efreet, with the torso of a man, but in a blood-red colour, and pure flame where legs should be, nodded and hovered away from her, towards the terrified villagers.

Meta bowed down towards the altar, searching it with her apparently frail hands, not the slightest bit distracted by the screams of the villagers, as the efreet 'took care of them'. Finally she found what she was looking for. A small rune, engraved in the altar, representing a school of magic, in this case that of death magic.

>>Shouldn't be too much of a problem

She muttered to herself, confident in her own ability to conjure up the mark of death. Death magic was after all, not too far from that of fire in nature. She took her staff with both hands, and drove it into the ground with a physical force that did in no way fit together with her frail looking feminine body. The ground around the altar turned the same colour as the inside of a volcano, as all grass around it withered away and died in seconds. Four candles appeared, all lit, one at each corner of the altar. She was just about to start the magical part of the ritual as the ground shook with tremendous power. Dazzled she stepped backwards, away from the altar, as the ground around it turned from the former volcanic red colour to a deep shade of black.

She knew exactly what was happening, and swore, once again moving her hands in furious magical patterns.

>>Damn you Celerion, you will regret this, she muttered, as sparks covered her body from top to toe, as the energies of magic formed into solid armour around her body. Again the earth shook, and a deep laughter was heard.

>>Show yourself!

Meta yelled, sounding unusually unsure.

Suddenly Celerion appeared before her. He was, like her, taller than any human, and wielding a long staff and wearing the robe of a magician. His staff, though, was made of the pale bone of humans with a skull on the top, and his robe was not fiery red, but dark with patterns in shades of grey. His face was that of a human, but with grotesque features, strengthening the unnatural feeling of death around him.

Again he laughed his deep laughter.

>>So, Meta. How exiting to meet you here.

He wasnt as much speaking as singing. Sing wouldnt even be a good term. He had no voice; it seemed more like a cold, corrupted wind.

>>I will kill you

Meta exclaimed, coldly.

>>Kill me?

>>Yes, kill you.

>>But I cant die. I am immortal.

He laughed his deep menacing laughter again.

Meta held her hands up in front of her, a red ball of magic appearing out of nothing and slowly growing between them. Celerion stood still, calmly looking her. Only the ethereal black snakes of magic crawling around his body revealed that he was in fact casting a spell.

Suddenly Meta released the ball which instantly darted towards Celerion. With over worldly reflexes he raised his staff. The ball exploded violently against the transparent wall of blackness that appeared between them as he raised his staff, instantly laying waste to the small town leaving but ash where houses had been. She frowned and raised her hands high above her head muttering arcane words of power, expecting to see Celerion when the ash had cleaned from the air. Instead she was stunned as he came out of the smoke, hitting her squarely on the jaw with his staff. She stumbled backwards, spell fizzling, stunned at this totally unexpected move from the death mages side.

Celerion took another step towards her and swung the magical staff towards her head. Meta fended off with her arm, which made a nasty cracking noise when the staff hit it. Screaming in pain and pointed her arm towards him. A flame shot from her palm instantly igniting Celerions robe.

He swung his staff at her again. Meta, trying to evade the attack, fell backwards onto the ground. Celerion, apparently unaffected by the flames burning his robe walked over to her and swung his staff, hitting her forehead with enormous force. Everything turned black for a second before she regained sight. Celerion was still standing over her, now holding an orb with the same nightmarish black colour as his robe. He laughed. Again.

>> Im sure theyve got a special place in hell for you, Celerion

>> Indeed. A throne I imagine.

>> You will never be able to rival Cronough. Not even with the power of the death altar. He is a god!

>> Even the gods will quiver with fear that they might lack my favour when I take the power of the elemental altars

>> Hah! Youre so full of yourself its making me sick! Ill return to Feeron and he will crush you! Nobody has ever been able to even locate the other altars!

>> Even if you were able to return to Feeron, the so called god of fire, you know hed be a lot more inclined to kill you for wanting the powers of the alter than to kill some insignificant demi-god.

He was studying the black orb with a deep, dead look.

>> What do you mean by If I were able to return? Im immortal, and you know it!

>> Yes. Immortality. And yet feel this!

He threw the orb at her, hitting her in the chest. The orb exploded with all the power stored in it and all went black.

END OF CHAPTER ONE

Rune Frederiksen, all rights reserved.