"It is difficult for rational beings to understand what moved the Demonlord. Did he seek the domination of Kolmar? Of the entire world? Or perhaps it was an integral part of that small, mad soul to require all power once he had even a taste of it.
"He went first, disguised, to others of the Gedri, in a place where there were none of my people. He demanded that they worship him as their king, showing them but a portion of his power. When they denied him he grew wrathful and stood before them in his new person. The Rikti that surrounded him became visible to natural sight, and the only survivor of that place described a luminous glow about him, of the hue common to Healers but scored with broken black lines like a mad spider's web. The teller of the tale admitted that he ran terrified from that sight alone. Looking over his shoulder he saw that black-shot blue coyer the villagers, and he heard them scream as from a great distance. When he returned with others of the Two Peoples, they found nothing but dark steaming stains on the ground stinking of the Rakshasa.
"The Kantri moved as one, silently, terrifying him with their utter, inexorable response.
"They burned the black stains clean with dragonfire.
"When the first tongue of flame reached the first stain, there was a flash of light and a loud moan. The Kantri grimly went about the settlement, flaming clean every stain, every house, every burnt-out shell of every dwelling. As Kantri—fire met Raksha—trace the air was filled with searing white flame, and with the cries of the damned.
"When at last the work was finished, the Kantri met in a circle where the Demonlord had stood. None knew where he had gone, but he must be found. They began to send out word to all the Kindred.
"The Kantri and Gedri met then in a Great Council. Every one of the Kindred who could fly or walk to the meeting place in a day was there, bar one or two who chose to stay with their settlements and defend them. It was the last Great Council. There were four hundred of the Kindred there, glowing in all shades of bronze and copper and gold, and fifty of the Gedri like small, bright children against the vast size of so many of the Kantri. Its like will never be seen again.
"The Kantri knew the Raksha-stink; the Gedri survivor told of the unholy alliance and described the sickening corruption of the Healer's will. More tales reached them, even as they met, of further atrocities, through the links of truespeech between the Kantri. All the news was of a madman steadily destroying settlements of the Gedri.
"The Great Council lasted only a few hours while Kantri and Gedri debated the best way to deal with the Demonlord, for it had become known that be travelled the demon lines and could disappear in moments. The only hope of the council was that the Demonlord would tire or demand more of his servants than he had paid blood for.
"It is remembered as the Day Without End, though some now call it the Day of the End. Before noon, while the sun shone bright and uncaring at the Great Council, a lady of the Kantri called Tréshak cried out as in great pain. Two of the Gedri Healers rushed to her, summoning their power as they ran. They could not have known.
"Tréshak, a kind soul with two younglings, a teacher of the Gedri her whole life long, turned on the Healers and destroyed them with fire. The only kindness is that they never knew her betrayal. They were dead by the time they fell to earth.
"Tréshak screamed her agony. 'Aidrishaan! His Rakshasa have killed Aidrishaan!' Aidrishaan was her beloved.
"There was no more speech. The Kantri broke from their circle, and in seconds the sky was black with them and the clearing thundered with the sound of their wings. Flames preceded them into the sky as they flew at best speed to the settlement where Aidrishaan had been.
"They found the Demonlord. It is not known to this day why he did not simply leave that place when he saw the Kantri coming for him, but he did not.
"He stood laughing beside the smouldering bones of Aidrishaan.
"Tréshak was first. Her fury, her fire burned hottest, and she had flown on the Wind's wings for vengeance. She drew in breath to flame this abomination, though she should die for it. We waited in respect for her loss, knowing that no child of the Gedrishakrim could stand against the armed fury of our Kindred.
"The Demonlord uttered a single word, and Tréshak changed. Before our eyes as she flew she dwindled to the size of a youngling and fell out of the sky, for her wings would no longer bear her up. A gleaming blue flame shot up from her blue soulgem, and no one who lived through that day ever forgot the sound of her last cry. It haunts the dreams even of those who were not there, as though time itself is offended and cries out for pity.
"It was cut off in the midst as her soulgem was ripped from her by the hands of the Rikti and delivered into the Demonlord.
"Perhaps it would have been better if the Kantri had retreated, taken time to consider.
"We did not.
"Four hundred of the Kantrishakrim flew straight at the Demonlord, setting tire to the very air as they dove. He spoke rapidly, the same word over and over, and fully half of the Kantri fell from the air and had their soulgems ripped away by legions of the Rikti.
"He could not get us all.
"He laughed as he died, as the Rikti around him disappeared in our flame (for they are the weaker of our natural enemies and cannot withstand dragonfire in this world). We do not know if he was so far into madness that he did not fear death or pain, or if there was some darkness in his soul that believed even then that he would triumph in the end.
"Fights broke out among the Kantri as we all tried to add our own touch of destruction to the dead body. A kind of madness gripped us, cooled only when the youngest, Keakhor, cried aloud, 'He is dead, we cannot kill him more. For pity's sake look to the wounded.'
"We turned to those who had been struck by the Demonlord's curse. We tried to speak to them, but in vain. One sifted among the ashes of the Demonlord and found the soulgems; they were already shrinking (as is their nature once separated from the body), and even then they bore the taint of their demonic source. In the course of nature, the soulgems of the dead resemble faceted jewels. When the Kin-Summoning is performed they glow with a steady light, and the Keeper of Souls may speak with the dead, but when the Summoning is over they again fall dark. These gleamed—to this day they gleam—at all times from within with a flickering light.
"We believe the souls of our Kindred are trapped within, neither alive nor dead, and despite endless years of our best efforts they still are bound.
"The bodies of our brothers and sisters had become the bodies of beasts. We could not kill them, for old love, but we could not bear to see them either. Someone first called them the Lesser Kindred on that day, and it has become our name for them. They breed now like beasts and live brief, solitary lives. We try to contact the newly born every year in the autumn, but we have had no evidence through the long, long years that a single one has heard or tried to respond.
"We returned in shock, in sorrow, mourning our loss though we could not yet comprehend it. It was a forefather of Shikrar, little better than a youngling himself, who with great effort kept the Kantri from destroying the innocent Gedri who waited still at the settlement. He took the Gedri aside and explained quickly what had happened, and he stopped them from offering to heal those who had been wounded. It was decided then that those of the Kantri who remained must leave the company of the Gedri, for in each face those who were now the Greater Kindred would see the Demonlord, and the memory of their comrades falling from the Winds in agony.