Over two days had passed before Shadowcast was ready for travel to Otherworld to deliver Eriel to his fate. His journey through Otherworld was marked by what could pass for cheers, if they weren’t shouted from the mouths of utterly inhuman shapes and forms. Upon his arrival he instructed the guards to take him straight to Eriel. Once there he announced with great satisfaction that he would personally supervise Eriel’s execution in a matter of hours. Nearby, Challis loudly voiced his objection to this treatment of his newly met hero and was rewarded by kicks and punches until he could no longer speak. Eriel’s heart sank. Had he misjudged Challis and entrusted his people’s future to a reckless youth? Eriel’s mind wandered to his own younger days. He too had been restless and foolhardy, but in time had outgrown these traits and become the adored leader of Blessing. He wondered if Challis had yet experienced love. Eriel himself had turned his back on the beautiful and innocent Annica. She was his intended from birth, but he couldn’t let love for this saintly child cloud his duties to Blessing and the Book.
One hour remained in the wait for Restoration. Eriel’s hopes were soaring. Surely Shadowcast would fail once again. But as that thought surfaced, so did Evilsyde’s dark leader. Eriel was led away with head held high, but as he passed Challis he gave just the slightest nod. A gesture that wasn’t lost on the youth. Eriel was then taken to the assimilation chamber and strapped to the cross-like structure in the middle of the room. Seconds were all that stood in the way of resurrection or destruction. Shadowcast walked to Eriel, presumably to gloat one last time to his old nemesis. Eriel welcomed the time that would be wasted, but at the last moment Shadowcast seemed to reconsider and raised his arm in signal for the end to begin. The arm dropped and, with crackle and hiss, Eriel was no more. Shadowcast and his minions erupted with joy. Never again to be slaves. Now to be masters.
Challis heard the cheering and knew that Eriel had passed without time to summon the spell. Now only he could influence the future. He heard the rattling of armor and realized they were coming for him. Soon the guards appeared and dragged the struggling Challis from his confinement. One of his jailers struck him a mighty blow across the face and suddenly all his anger left him. He was sure of what he must do. Thunder starts from silence and he would be thunder.
Challis was taken to the chamber and secured to the cross. Shadowcast approached him and asked if he had any last thing to say before assimilation. Challis smiled and said he did. Then with an evil laugh, Shadowcast raised his arm and announced that his question was only a final killing joke. It was now or never. As the arm fell in signal, Challis shouted out the spell: “Sanasha Gorath Sollis Arcanna” and all hell actually broke loose. Challis and the good folk of Blessing were bathed in an incredible rush of light. Shadowcast and all his wicked throng writhed in agony in the darkness they were spawned from, as the fierce illumination sought them out and consumed each troll, ogre and gargoyle in a horrible melting frenzy. Shadowcast, hiding in the last black space to be found, watched the light creep irresistibly toward him. At the last moment he cloaked his body with his unpriestly robe and muttered what sounded like an oath as the light touched the cloth. The robe erupted into flame and then there was nothing. Surely Shadowcast was also consumed by fire! But that tale would not yet be told. Now as each remaining citizen of Blessing was transported instantly back to their home, they found themselves standing among thousands of recognizable stone statues. These monuments represented their fallen comrades and would ever be a lasting testament to the dangers of evil and the power of Magica.
Now came the time of mourning. Funeral pyres brightened the night sky for weeks and songs of sorrow could be heard across the land long after the flames had sputtered and died. When the prolonged periods of grieving had ended, the citizens and their council directed attention to the task of anointing a new leader and protector of the restored Book of Magica. The choice seemed a simple one. Challis had resurrected the populace and the Book, but many questioned his youth and inexperience.
The debate raged on as the time of choosing approached. The candidates were summoned to the sacred place. Eloquent speeches were made on behalf of them all. Only Challis lacked a champion and it seemed certain that he would be passed over. “Will anyone speak for the boy?” asked the council. The question was greeted by silence as the judges turned away to cast their votes. Then the quiet was broken. A handsome woman with golden hair, now flecked with traces of gray, spoke: “Challis must be chosen. This is the secret I have carried with me for all these years. Although I was once rebuffed by my only true love, Eriel, our brief union produced the young man standing before you. Eriel was never to know that he had sired this free spirit, but he will live on through his son’s achievements if you now find him worthy.” So spoke Annica, mother of Challis.
The decision was now reached quickly. Annica’s revelation left little doubt in the minds of the councillors that Challis should indeed succeed his father. Evilsyde had been defeated, Shadowcast was hopefully destroyed, Challis had been chosen to lead his people and, despite the huge number of casualties, the old way of life began again. But, evil does not easily die. Shadowcast did indeed survive and persist in his attempts to challenge and conquer Blessing. Great battles would be fought. Brave heroes would rise to the occasion and legends were created. There was, of course, the unforgettable War of the Darkpeace when Challis …. Ah! But that’s another story!
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