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he water and darkness. So cold and dark, I am lost. I am dying but I keep breathing. I keep breathing only it burns. Gods it burns. Please gods, hear me. Take me now, free me from this pain. I am breaking.
Aramathxes nudged him awake, her translucent hand ice cold and shocking. The nightmare of darkness and despair was emblazoned upon his mind as he gazed up into her face. There was a hideous brass mask being strapped to his face, a tube shoved into his mouth, his breath rushing through metal so that his cries were drowned out by the urgent desire to breathe, breathe as he was submerged in a hole in the ground, the water rushing up to engulf him as he fell, his arms and legs outstretched.
He rolled onto his side and heaved, gasping for air and trembling. The image had been so horrifyingly real that awakening to Torment was a relief. The contents of his empty belly burned in his throat and he sat gagging and hacking for many long moments.
“I’ll protect you, Pen,” the little girl said, stroking his face in response to the horror she saw in his eyes, “Just a bad dream.”
“It happened,” he said, shuddering, “Or it will happen.”
“I made you more water,” she said, “Drink, it will help you forget.”
He needed sleep and he craved it but the nightmares harried him now, each one worse than before. It was as if he was flipping between two realities, one in which he traveled fruitlessly across demon infested wasteland and another in which he was being mercilessly tortured. He had seen his tormentor through the thin slits of the terrible mask. So pale and cruel, her black scarred face at once terrible and beautiful.
With trembling hands he raised the stone bowl to his lips and sipped the cool sweet water, his tears rising once more as he yearned for what was good and beautiful in the world he left behind. He wanted to go home so badly now, his longing for Teleri and Mabane almost painful.
“I can’t do this,” he sobbed, “I’m too weak. I’ll die before I even find my master and I’ll never see my loved ones again. I’ve failed him and I’m lost. Even if I die I’ll never leave this place. The gods can’t hear me any more.”
“It will be alright. Just a little further now.”
He staggered back to his feet. At some point during the long painful trek he had abandoned his shredded boots and his feet were now raw and bleeding. His clothes were in tatters and blood matted his hair. A demon had found him. He remembered its scything claws and his desperately shouted incantations. Darkness as he had collapsed in exhaustion. He turned his head toward its festering corpse, choking on its reek. How long it had lain there leaking its fetid ichor into the dead soil he did not know. All he wanted now was to get away from it. As far away as he could.
“Your master would be proud. You defeated it.”
“Why are you helping me, Ara?”
“Not all of us wish evil,” she said quietly, “I am lost and you are the key.”
“Key to what?”
“To wholeness.”
He scowled at her. Threnody already had her greedy claws in him. The last thing he needed was another one. He turned his back to her and continued his trek along the cliff face, his left hand occasionally pressed against the flat planes of gleaming basalt. The violent red sun had not shifted from its lofty perch and he squinted under its barbaric light as he limped along step by weary step. He swore angrily as a long shadow fell over him. A hideous insectoid claw ripped through the rock and towered over him, its razor sharp claw drawn to the sound of his foot falls and poised to strike. Backing away, he took cover behind a shattered boulder and watched it swaying and seeking. It was rooted to the spot.
He glanced toward his destination, the strange building surrounded by the scurrying shapes of patrolling demons. Pressed against the cliff, he was hidden from view. If he strayed too far into the open, their sharp eyes would see him. Every hex pained him, every protective stance and simple mantra tore into his flesh, but he had no choice. Focusing upon the hideous claw, he found its malign will and hexed it with his most vile nightmares. Gasping in pain, his body wrenched with the loss of so much energy, he leaned back against the sharp stones and watched as the claw wobbled, subtly shaken and reeling as its life energies poured away. On the point of death it rallied and fought off his illusion, but it could not reach him. Aramathxes touched his arm gently and he gasped as his body surged with energy. Once more he implanted the illusion of nightmares into the creature’s miniscule mind and watched it flail and die.
“Well done,” the girl said kindly.
“Zhou taught me that spell,” he panted, sitting on his hams now as the corpse of his foe moldered under the unyielding sun.
“He would be proud.”
“No, he wouldn’t,” Pendaran said, “He would be angry that I came here and threw my life away for no good reason. All I ever did was cause him trouble and pain.”
“He loves you,” Aramathxes said, “You are the son he wished he had and an affirmation that everyone is redeemable, including himself. You give him hope and purpose.”
“How do you know that?” he rasped, thrusting himself back onto his feet and forcing himself to move once more, “Demons are full of pretty words. That is how they lay their traps.”
He glanced back at her, annoyed that she presumed he was so stupid and gullible. She could not know the horror that Threnody had made him endure for surely if she had she would not use such transparent tactics. Ask for nothing, that was the cardinal rule when dealing with demons. Ask and want for nothing and they could never possess.
An hour or more passed. There was no means of telling time beyond the blinding weariness of his battered body. He gazed out across the shattered plain, closer to the strange structure now and able to see a faint glow flowing from its taloned roof. On this side there was a black lintel arch and violet runes shimmered upon its weathered posts. Scanning the brutal landscape, he could see no patrols on this side. Walking cautiously over the brittle grassland, he moved toward his destination, aware of the crystal burning ferociously through his tattered attire. He removed the thong from his neck and held it before him, blinking at it blazed brightly. There could be no mistaking that his was his destination.
Step by weary step he crawled forth, the dimensions of the structure now becoming evident. It was massive, rising from the raw earth to a height that would dwarf any of the grand structures of Tyria. No wonder he had been able to see it so far away. Four talons pierced its skulking crown and a molten ball of actinic light blazed in their midst. It was a magical focus point of some kind, he vaguely remembered reading about them.
“What is that for?” he asked Aramathxes.
She followed his gesture and frowned.
“It holds Xenarach inside.”
“Could he not simply leave via that doorway?”
“There is a guardian.”
He gazed at the blackness of the arch but could see nothing. Frowning, he strode closer, aware of Aramathxes lurking just behind him. He could sense a change in her disposition, fear perhaps… or eagerness. Pendaran paused and gazed upon her.
“Why are you following me?”
“That which you seek is here.”
Scowling, he turned his back to her and continued toward the building. The cutting rocks gave way to a smooth plane of polished obsidian and his tattered feet left bloody prints as he strode up its sloping side toward three low steps. Gazing down he saw himself reflected and quickly looked away. Soul mirror: that was Zhou’s name for the glass born of volcano fire. Was that his soul, starved and haggard, his sunken eyes darting like mad flies?
“Who approaches?” rolled a voice like thunder. Pendaran dropped wearily to his knees and gazed up toward the inky blackness of the yawning portal. A figure strode toward him, ghostly pale and seething with pain and rage. Its limbs were wrapped with bloody strips freshly supplied by the spiked chains protruding into the man’s gaunt flesh. With every movement he tore himself open anew. Maggots writhed in his open sores, sores that were never allowed to heal by virtue of his cutting bonds. Cruelest of all was the collar forged of obsidian shards that had rubbed his neck raw and bloody. It was locked with links the thickness of a man’s wrist to an enormous ring set into the lintel’s keystone so that he would always feel its deadening weight upon him.
“Zhou,” Pendaran gasped, horrified by the vision of his master transformed by torment.
“Who approaches?” he roared, foaming bloody saliva rolling down his jaws now, the hollows of his eyes gleaming with fire. His face was darkened with dried blood, a hideous mask daubed in place with his own hands. His right hand clutched a staff of blazing light, blinding in its intensity.
“Master,” Pendaran said softly, touching his forehead to the stone before Zhou’s festering feet, “Do you not recognize me?”
“Who is this worm that bows before me?” demanded Zhou, his voice strange in its harshness, a harmonic of rage lurking in its shadow, “No barbarian is worthy of my tutelage. Sooner would I kill you than let your filth crawl at my feet.”
“I am Pendaran, Master, Kai Peng Ren, I am your Adept. Please, I have come to save you.”
“No!” shrieked Aramathxes. He did not see what happened next for his forehead was pressed to the obsidian at Zhou’s feet. One moment he was kneeling and the next the little girl thrust him aside with a force that belied her small frame. He tumbled helplessly down the sloping sheet of polished obsidian and lay startled upon his back as blinding spears of chaotic power blazed around him like a cage. Then he realized Aramathxes hovered above him like an angel, a pair of filamentous wings curling over him and causing the deadly energies to earth themselves harmlessly around him. A roar of rage and pain split the rancid air and Pendaran turned his head to see gouts of flame erupt from Zhou’s throat. He sensed his master’s anguish, the hopelessness of his situation. This was his eternal duty, to be the tortured guardian of this place.
“Master, please let me help you.”
“Die!” Zhou snarled, raising the blazing staff and focusing. A swirl of chaos wreathed his tortured form. Aramathxes remained hovering and his deathly energies once more flowed over her, leaving Pendaran unharmed.
“Fool, have you no idea who I am? I am the Soul Render, and I shall devour you as I did all the others. You shall lie shattered and I will wear your blood upon my face. Death to you, barbarian, death to you and all your filthy kin.”
Pendaran crawled to his knees and Aramathxes drifted down to stand beside him.
“You are my friend, my master, my savior. I love you and nothing can change that, not madness nor torment. I am your Lyssan partner, I have vowed to serve you as long as I am able. Master, though your hatred and rage wounds me, I will not be turned away. Tell me how I might free you. I wish only to give you peace.”
“I am Bei Zhou Li. I will never be peace.”
Pendaran hesitated, noting that the grim figure had lowered its blazing staff and now hovered in its bindings, a look of sad resignation etched into its bloodied face. Why did he call himself Li and not An. He closed his eyes, racking his brain for the meanings, unlocking the long hours of memorization. He had asked Zhou the meaning of his name. Peaceful alms giver… he had changed his name many years before. Li meant… so many things.
“Bei Zhou An is my master,” Pendaran said, realizing that this was the part Zhou had abandoned when he had changed his name.
“That is correct.”
“Where is Bei Zhou An?” Pendaran demanded.
A harsh smile cracked the blood on the guardian’s face.
“I will tell you only if you set me free.”
“I said I would.”
“But you do not know how.”
Pendaran climbed to his feet and approached the terrible figure, unafraid now.
“Tell me.”
“You must speak the meaning of my name and bid me go free in Abaddon’s name.”
“Abaddon?” Pendaran murmured, the name feeling heavy in his mouth.
“Do this, and I tell you where your master is. He lives.”
“He lives?”
“His spirit was released from Shikai’s enchantment and he has flown to you, his Lyssan partner. You have dreamed of him, you have felt his suffering. He needs you.”
Pendaran swallowed. It felt wrong somehow. There was a reason Zhou Li had been imprisoned here, but Zhou An was in trouble. Now he understood the nature of the dreams. Their circle was complete and he must be a shelter for his master just as Zhou had preserved his life. He closed his eyes, praying softly to Lyssa for inspiration. Li was cleverness and severe and mountains and strength.
“In weakness there is strength,” he murmured, remembering the motto of Crystal Palm. Strong alms giver did not sound right, so that meant Zhou had to mean something else. Not weakness, but weakness that hid true strength, that of the human spirit.
“You are Zhou Li, concealed strength. I release you in Abaddon’s name.”
“Ah, I am freed and I might serve my Lord again.”
Pendaran looked on in bewilderment as Zhou Li’s chains crumbled, his head falling back in a swoon as he raised his arms to the sky, staff ablaze above him. The polished obsidian shattered beneath his feet and hairline fractures crawled out toward Pendaran, growing wider as flames leapt up. The ground began to shake and fear clenched his gut, causing him to back away. He looked frantically for Aramathxes and saw her standing in the blackened doorway, a strange smile upon her diminutive face.
The clawed crown shuddered like a giant stirring from nightmare. The building lurched and the blazing orb of actinic light burned fiercely, growing immense, a blazing white hot opening into another realm. The sickly sweet odor of ozone gagged Pendaran and he ran now, his back turned to the collapsing stone. A pressure wave of heat and flying dust struck his fleeing back, throwing him headlong onto the rocky ground. The wind knocked from him, he lay gasping as the great building collapsed, its clawed crown descending slowly until the actinic orb burned from deep within its heart, its blinding light bursting through the once black lintel arch. The walls collapsed outward and where the doorway once stood a clot of shadow emerged ringed by a swirling portal. It raised its immense talons to the swollen sun and let rise a victorious howl from its bestial jaws.
“I am freed!”
Zhou Li bowed down before the great demon, his bloody visage exultant. Aramathxes, unnoticed, stood behind them, her pale face gazing back at Pendaran.
“You have saved me, I am freed. Farewell.”
“No!” Pendaran gasped.
He staggered to his feet, his body on fire with pain and weary beyond measure. Running now, he stumbled once and rose again, his legs barely able to carry him. Then, screaming in pain, chaos engulfed him in livid bars of cracking power. Imprisoned, he turned frantically, dropping to his knees when it was clear he could not escape from the burning cage.
“Bow down to me, I am your lord and master now, Pendaran Caradec.”
Forged of nacreous shadow, the towering demon edged toward him, predatory and deadly, tail lashing its skeletal haunches. Its fiery eyes narrowed when he made no move to obey.
“I will never do your bidding, Xenarach,” Pendaran croaked, showing that he knew its true name. The demon lord snarled and crashed against the bars of the cage, shattering it like glass with a sweep of its obsidian talons. Quivering, Pendaran lay flat against the ground, sheltering his head.
“You bow like a coward, that is good enough for me,” Xenarach said harshly, his voice grinding like stone,“Bring him, he serves us now.”
Pendaran made a final bid for freedom, clawing at the ground with his hands to rise and flee. Zhou Li laughed harshly and tapped his blazing staff once upon the parched ground. Tendrils of chaos curled around Pendaran’s struggling form. Screaming in pain, he lay still as the energies cracked around him in tightening coils. Paralyzed with agony, he could only whimper as he floated helplessly after Zhou Li at the end of a gleaming tendril of chaos.
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