K'rul had come to destroy him, had come to snap the chains of twelve million slaves — even the Jaghut Tyrants had not commanded such heartless mastery over their subjects. No, it took a mortal human to achieve this level of tyranny over his kin.
Two other Elder Gods were converging on the Kallorian Empire. The decision had been made. The three — last of the Elder — would bring to a close the High King's despotic rule. K'rul could sense his companions. Both were close; both had been comrades once, but they all — K'rul included — had changed, had drifted far apart. This would mark the first conjoining in millennia.
He could sense a fourth presence as well, a savage, ancient beast following his spoor. A beast of the earth, of winter's frozen breath, a beast with white fur bloodied, wounded almost unto death by the Fall. A beast with but one surviving eye to look upon the destroyed land that had once been its home — long before the empire's rise. Trailing, but coming no closer. And, K'rul well knew, it would remain a distant observer of all that was about to occur. The Elder god could spare it no sorrow, yet was not indifferent to its pain.
We each survive as we must, and when time comes to die, we find our places of solitude …
The Kallorian Empire had spread to every shoreline of Jacuruku, yet K'rul saw no-one as he took his first steps inland. Lifeless wastes stretched on all sides. The air was grey with ash and dust, the skies overhead churning like lead in a smith's cauldron. The Elder God experienced the first breath of unease, sidling chill across his soul.
Above him the god-spawned scavengers cackled as they wheeled.
A familiar voice spoke in K'rul's mind. Brother, I am upon the north shore.
'And I the west.'
Are you troubled?
'I am. All is … dead.'
Incinerated. The heat remains deep beneath the beds of ash. Ash … and bone.
A third voice spoke. Brothers, I am come from the south, where once dwelt the cities. All destroyed. The echoes of a continent's death-cry still linger. Are we deceived? Is this illusion?
K'rul addressed the first Elder who had spoken in his mind. 'Draconus, I too feel that death-cry. Such pain … indeed, more dreadful in its aspect than that of the Fallen One. If not a deception as our sister suggests, what has he done?'
We have stepped onto this land, and so all share what you sense, K'rul, Draconus replied. I, too, am not certain of its truth. Sister, do you approach the High King's abode?
The third voice replied, I do, brother Draconus. Would you and brother K'rul join me now, that we may confront this mortal as one?
'We shall.'
Warrens opened, one to the far north, the other directly before K'rul.
The two Elder Gods joined their sister upon a ragged hilltop where wind swirled through the ashes, spinning funereal wreaths skyward. Directly before them, on a heap of burnt bones, was a throne.
The man seated upon it was smiling. 'As you can see,' he rasped after a moment of scornful regard, 'I have … prepared for your arrival. Oh yes, I knew you were coming. Draconus, of Tiam's kin. K'rul, Opener of the Paths.' His grey eyes swung to the third Elder. 'And you. My dear, I was under the impression that you had abandoned your … old self. Walking among the mortals, playing the role of middling sorceress — such a deadly risk, though perhaps this is what entices you so to the mortal game. You've stood on fields of battles, woman. One stray arrow …' He slowly shook his head.
'We have come,' K'rul said, 'to end your reign of terror.'
Kallor's brows rose. 'You would take from me all that I have worked so hard to achieve? Fifty years, dear rivals, to conquer an entire continent. Oh, perhaps Ardatha still held out — always late in sending me my rightful tribute — but I ignored such petty gestures. She has fled, did you know? The bitch. Do you imagine yourselves the first to challenge me? The Circle brought down a foreign god. Aye, the effort went… awry, thus sparing me the task of killing the fools with my own hand. And the Fallen One? Well, he'll not recover for some time, and even then, do you truly imagine he will accede to anyone's bidding? I would have-'
'Enough,' Draconus growled. 'Your prattling grows wearisome, Kallor.'
'Very well,' the High King sighed. He leaned forward. 'You've come to liberate my people from my tyrannical rule. Alas, I am not one to relinquish such things. Not to you, not to anyone.' He settled back, waved a languid hand. 'Thus, what you would refuse me, I now refuse you.'
Though the truth was before K'rul's eyes, he could not believe it. 'What have-'
'Are you blind?' Kallor shrieked, clutching at the arms of his throne. 'It is gone! They are gone! Break the chains, will you? Go ahead — no, I surrender them! Here, all about you, is now free! Dust! Bones! All free!'
'You have in truth incinerated an entire continent?' the sister Elder whispered. 'Jacuruku-'
'Is no more, and never again shall be. What I have unleashed will never heal. Do you understand me? Never. And it is all your fault. Yours. Paved in bone and ash, this noble road you chose to walk. Your road.'
'We cannot allow this-'
'It has already happened, you foolish woman!'
K'rul spoke within the minds of his kin. It must be done. I will fashion a … a place for this. Within myself.
A warren to hold all this? Draconus asked in horror. My brother-
No, it must be done. join with me now, this shaping will not be easy-
It will break you, K'rul, his sister said. There must be another way.
None. To leave this continent as it is … no, this world is young. To carry such a scar …
What of Kallor? Draconus enquired. What of this … this creature?
We mark him, K'rul replied. We know his deepest desire, do we not?
And the span of his life?
Long, my friends.
Agreed.
K'rul blinked, fixed his dark, heavy eyes on the High King. 'For this crime, Kallor, we deliver appropriate punishment. Know this: you, Kallor Eiderann Tes'thesula, shall know mortal life unending. Mortal, in the ravages of age, in the pain of wounds and the anguish of despair. In dreams brought to ruin. In love withered. In the shadow of Death's spectre, ever a threat to end what you will not relinquish.' Draconus spoke, 'Kallor Eiderann Tes'thesula, you shall never ascend.'
Their sister said, 'Kallor Eiderann Tes'thesula, each time you rise, you shall then fall. All that you achieve shall turn to dust in your hands. As you have wilfully done here, so it shall be in turn visited upon all that you do.'
'Three voices curse you,' K'rul intoned. 'It is done.'
The man on the throne trembled. His lips drew back in a rictus snarl. 'I shall break you. Each of you. I swear this upon the bones of seven million sacrifices. K'rul, you shall fade from the world, you shall be forgotten. Draconus, what you create shall be turned upon you. And as for you, woman, unhuman hands shall tear your body into pieces, upon a field of battle, yet you shall know no respite — thus, my curse upon you, Sister of Cold Nights. Kallor Eiderann Tes'thesula, one voice, has spoken three curses. Thus.'
They left Kallor upon his throne, upon its heap of bones. They merged their power to draw chains around a continent of slaughter, then pulled it into a warren created for that sole purpose, leaving the land itself bared. To heal.