Chapter 9: Mad God's Rage PT 2

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			   Makala

Pug hurried Owyn under an archway.

The corridor angled sharply downward, its rough earthen floor littered with a
slippery ceramic material which cracked underfoot with each step taken. In
places, the boy glimpsed ancient frescoes of a Moredhel-looking race who stared
back at him with eyes filled with enigmatic hate, the cause of which had been
millions of years dead.
Following a slow bend, they arrived at last at what looked to be a stone wall,
but quickly Pug muttered a few words and the door shimmered away into
nothingness. Beyond lay a vast chamber, and Makala was waiting for them.

PUG:
I hoped more for you, Makala. When first you came to us years ago from the
Assembly I sensed your heart full of dark calculation, but I had thought with us
you would grow to gentleness.

MAKALA:
We Tsurani are of course bereft of that quality.

PUG:
Save your prating for the Assembly! You have returned my friendship with cold
contempt, treated with my daughter as a wolf to his prey and have defied my
interdict to visit Sethanon. Assume nothing between us now other than the
respect due between practitioners. Why has the Assembly of Magicians seen fit
to interpose itself into Midkemian affairs?

MAKALA:
As a whole, the Assembly was unable to reach consensus on this matter; they
hesitate to dabble in matters that might arouse your ire. Otherwise disposed
with a small problem concerning House Acoma they decided those who felt this
investigation necessary could conduct it of their own volition. I undertook that
responsibility.

PUG:
I should be careful taking such weight upon your shoulders. It may yet crush
you.

MAKALA:
Ten years ago you engaged in a battle to bar the Valheru entrance to your world,
a battle in which you requested the service of several companies of Tsurani foot
soldiers. As such, the battle became a matter of imperial interest and fell
within the jurisdiction of the Assembly. You, however, have thwarted all our
efforts to gather information about that battle and have forbade our
investigation of Sethanon. Many sons of great houses fell but their bodies were
never recovered for the proper rites.

PUG:
Your attempts at evasion are execrable, Makala! Never has the Assembly concerned
itself with the souls of the dead and I don't believe they are practicing a new
found piety. You wished to learn how I defeated the Valheru.

MAKALA:
Indeed. How could we not? The Valheru were a race of unspeakable evil and dread
power who once nearly destroyed our world. Although my brothers harbor you the
greatest respect Pug, you would be incapable of turning aside such monstrous
power unaided. Judging by the numerous defenses that ringed this abandoned town,
we assumed the only possible solution. You concealed a thing of power in the
caverns here.

PUG:
I cannot fault your fears, but your methodology has been despicable. The
Lifestone was created in the darkest days of the Mad God's Rage, a war in which
the Valheru strove to destroy the gods of Midkemia. With it they believed they
could conquer every corner of the universe, and in all likelihood, they could
have. It must be eternally locked away here and its existence must die out with
that small handful of us that have looked upon it. You will speak to none of the
Assembly about what you have found here or you shall answer to me.

MAKALA:
I cannot in good conscience keep such a secret. What if such a weapon were
wielded against the Empire? Could not such a weapon lay waste to all her
children? We cannot simply bury such a weapon. It must be destroyed for the good
of all future generations of the Empire and the Kingdom.

PUG:
Impossible. We have no way to know what would happen if we attempted to destroy
it. It may not be tested without potentially disturbing the Valheru whose souls
now occupy the stone.

MAKALA:
As I suspected. You have done nothing to study it. Great though your power may
be, you haven't an inkling what secrets lie within that stone. It's very
existence is obscene! It must not fall into the hands of a hostile power.

PUG:
Makala, do not tamper with the stone. It must be left untouched for the good of
all!

MAKALA:
I judge now as is my right as a Great One of the Assembly of Magicians. It must
be destroyed, Pug ... for the good of the Empire!

Makala raised his staff.
Not wanting to strike down the Tsurani, but realizing the choice was being made
for him, Pug summoned what resources were left to him after the Timirianyan cup

had blanked his spellcasting ability. Perhaps between he and the boy, they could
still defeat Makala.

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It was over.
Pug stared at Makala's lifeless form as it lay silently on the hard stone floor.
Hiding from the grief that threatened to overcome his pain and exhaustion, he
turned to Owyn; saw the boy was on his knees. Pug was about to help the boy to
his feet when he noticed a strange light filling the chamber.

The Lifestone pulsed warmth.
Rays of emerald light touched Owyn's solemn features, deepening the hollows of
his face as he approached the blasted turf occupied moments before by Makala's
towering rage. Nearby, Pug spoke softly, his voice diffusing off the cavern
walls into a thousand bouncing whispers.
	"It may be difficult," Pug said, "but don't judge him too harshly, Owyn.
I have performed acts nearly as monstrous in the name of common good."
	"I find that hard to believe," Owyn replied. "You're a good man."
	"So was he, in his own way. Loyalty can sometimes misguide even the
finest of men... "
	Both magicians flinched in unison as muted sword strikes erupted in the
corridors outside the chamber. With startling rapidity the sounds approached,
dissolved into pattering desperate footfalls and howling half-screamed oaths.
"Watch yourself!" Pug shouted across the cavern. "Someone's coming!"
	Harried by a shadowy assailant Gorath backed into the chamber, his sword
flying in a defensive arc before him. Repeatedly, razor-like fists flashed out
of the darkness to challenge him, but he skillfully turned the attacks to his
advantage. Finding the rhythm of his opponent, he feinted right when he was
expected to move left and a warrior barreled past him.
	"Delekhan!" Owyn exclaimed.
	Tripped up by Gorath, the Moredhel leader crashed to the ground,
snarling all the while in slavering fury. Attempting to rise, he slashed upward
with his gauntleted fist but brutally Gorath stepped inside his guard and
delivered a rain of heavy kicks until the older warrior fell quiet.
	"I suggest you lie still," Gorath snapped, wiping rivulets of blood from
his face. "I may decide to kill you yet."
	"I hear you," Delekhan croaked, his voice weak. For a long moment he
remained curled in a ball, his breath tearing raggedly from his throat as he
clenched and unclenched his fists. With extreme effort he turned his head and
looked upon the mesmerizing light of the Lifestone and froze.
	"No!" Pug shook his head, apprehension welling within him like a black
lake as he caught the Moredhel's expression. Stumbling forward he tried to
interpose himself in the way but his failing strength abandoned him. "No!"
	Swatting Gorath effortlessly aside as he rose, Delekhan's eyes flashed
with reflected radiance. Like a puppet on a string, he began to stagger forward,
his steps almost childish in their plodding. Undoubtedly something had control
of his mind...
	Dazed but alive, Gorath leapt to the attack and jolted hard into the
Moredhel leader, his miscalculated blow carrying the both of them not down but
forward; forward into the Lifestone...
	Together they reached for the sword…

DELEKHAN:
What madness is this? WHO…?

GORATH:
Something within the sword... consumes! Can't fight... it... HIM…!
Ashen-Shugar...

PUG:
The Valheru souls trapped within the stone are slipping their bonds!
We will have to kill them both...

OWYN:
But what about Gorath?!

GORATH:
You must... Owyn... evil... Can't fight it... HIM much... ll... ON... ger...
Can't... hold... him...

PUG:
NOW!

Owyn stared blankly at the Lifestone.
	"We killed him," Owyn said, a bitter hurt in his words. "He came to the
Kingdom to warn us and we killed him."
	"Don't be petulant, Owyn. This isn't a time for it."
	Glaring at Pug with shock, Owyn opened his mouth to reply, but found
that adequate words failed him. Angered, he turned as if to leave, but felt the
master magician's hand on his shoulder.
	"Wait," Pug said, his voice more gentle than it had been. Meeting the
boy's hateful gaze, he motioned for him to stay. "You must understand. Gorath
was dead the minute he touched the sword. If we had hesitated but a moment
longer, both he and Delekhan would be dead and an unspeakable evil would be
loose on our world. When Delekhan began to change you could see the Valheru were
attempting to mold them into a form they could use. Do you remember the terrible
devastation we saw on Timirianya? That would be a paradise compared to the lives
we would lead under their dominion. I'm telling you this because you now have
knowledge and abilities which come with terrible responsibilities. You will have
to make decisions far worse than this someday if you continue down the path you
are on. You are going to have to learn to think before you act, but never to
regret your decisions, right or wrong. Otherwise, you will slowly begin to not
make decisions at all."
	"But how can I know which are the right decisions?" Owyn asked. "How can
I be sure?"
	Pug squeezed his shoulder. "You need to live to a ripe old age to know
that and I am not nearly old enough to have an answer. All I know is what Macros
the Black once told me. He said to train those around me well, to make them
powerful, but also to make them loving and generous. I see those things in you."