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Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Fantasy · #2300608
Can a once ally be trusted to keep his word after 35 years of evil deeds?
Word Count 1,656
Contest Entry: Prompt is Open Prompt
Wizard

          Not everyone cares if you are dying. Particularly if you have outlived all your known family members that you have not exterminated, have no real friends alive, and do not count the animated dead. But I am not dead yet.
          I am to blame for most of this as I have always done things my way, being outside the laws of nature and man, and never tolerated humans much. Live ones, anyway. It goes with the territory of being a Necromancing Dark Wizard. I left the castle for solitude, tired of all the challenges for dominance. I can't scant call them challenges anymore. Possessing six souls has given me unimaginable power over death and its Glory. Only fools dare challenge me. Alas, there has been no end of fools.
         So, here I am writing to you, my Grimoire, to preface the reason for scribing all my knowledge of the Dark Arts to human vellum.
         The first lesson: Summoning the Fire Imp. First, you must create a...
         There is a pounding on his door. It stopped, and then more pounding. Soon someone calls out something, but the words are indistinct due to the stone walls and the thickness of the door.
         "Blast it all! What is that insufferable noise? If another Knight is trying to smite me, I am returning to the swamp of a Thousand Deaths."
         Sundaar stalks over to the bolted door, throws back the bolt and board, quickly opens the door, squints at the clouded day, and looks where the intrusive noise came from. With his eyes getting used to the Light, he sees an underfed and undersized errand boy.
         "What do you want, scat?"
         With a shaking voice, "I am Squire Hans. I am here to give you a note, your Wizardness, sir. It is from the King of Bright Star Kingdom."
         "Well, hand it over, lout." After he grabs it from the boy's hand, he begins to turn but sees the boy still standing there. "Do you want something else, or are you frozen in place? Speak, boy!"
         "The King ordered I wait for a reply."
          "My reply is you shall not return." The Wizard summons five warrior skeletons, and they chase the courier down in cold blood.
          Once inside, the Wizard debated opening the missive. He grew weary of the King's plea for a truce because of his actions against the Light.
          Bloody troll guts on that. The Light has continuously invaded his territory and tried to do away with him. Knights, mercenaries, brigades, quest seekers, and even lone clerics seeking fame have tried to best him. The only time he has left his land has been to gain more power within the Dark Arts; that meant defeating others with Dark Arts powers.
          After sitting and starring at the note, he grabs and opens the missive:
          Sundaar:
          It has been too long since you and I fought alongside each other as brothers in Arms. I well remember the last battle we fought together before we fell. It was a glorious battle. It was with the Vampire Lich Lord and its many minions. We lost Hawk that day. He died gloriously. The decisive battle saw you, me, and Evad against the Spawn of Hate. We had yet to learn how long the battle lasted. We only had a few bottles of healing draughts, my and Evad's swords, and your magic. We were losing. We all knew it. I remember my back against a boulder, Evad on one knee, and you were off to the side. The Lich Lord was gloating, taking time with us because it knew we were beaten.
          Then you pulled a clay bottle from your pack and held it aloft. It looked like an ordinary wine bottle. The Lich shrieked in horror and turned all his attention toward you. Without hesitation, you dashed the bottle against a rock and poured Holy Water over it. The Lich stopped and began to writhe as if it received a mortal blow. You brought another vessel up and chanted words we could not hear, and the Lich's body turned to ash and smoke and funneled into the awaiting container in your grasp.
         Later, when pressed about the fate of the Lich, you assured us it was banished and would never be heard from again.
         We believed you.
         You have changed these many years. We all knew you were not one of us when we met in the Slaughtered Pig Pub and began our quest to be famous mercenaries. Little did we know how all our questing would turn out. I thought you would change and see the Light instead of Neutrality.
         Never did I think it possible you would embrace the Dark?
         I have let you be as long as I could, Sundaar until I can no longer make excuses or hold the law at bay. I do not know if any good is left in you, but I beg you to cease all nefarious actions and turn yourself over to the Brothers of the White Light. I know they will not harm you, only remove your powers and place you in a Null Cell for the rest of your mortal life.
         I am afraid there is no negotiation in this.
         If I do not hear a response by the next full moon, we will declare war upon you. Not only will we attack, but the Northern Aubade Barbarians, the Rock Orcs of the Western Mountain Ridges, and the Sea Trolls from the Southern Coast will all join in the fight. The Order of Light surrounds you. There is nowhere to flee and no allies for support.
         Think about this before you act foolishly.
         The King's signature was at the bottom of the page, Eric Valinor, III.
         Sundaar remembered the fight differently. By the time the battle took place, he no longer practiced neutrality. He had changed and followed the Dark Arts. He never informed his fellow mercenaries of his change of heart.
          Their willingness to go after his competition, all the creatures they considered evil, did not hurt his career advancement. When the Lich Lord was distracted, Sundaar grabbed the Lich's phylactery, the Lich's source of magic and immortality. Many Liches take precautions to hide and safeguard their soul artifacts that anchor a part of their soul to the material world. If the corporeal body of a Lich is killed, that part of the Lich's soul that had remained in the body does not pass on to the next world but will exist in a non-corporeal form capable of being resurrected. 
          Sundaar destroyed the Vampire Lich Lord's phylactery during the battle. The Lich was then imprisoned in a Nexus Void where its knowledge and power could be accessed and drained by the flask's owner: Sundaar.
          Using the power of the Lich Lord, Sundaar began to systematically obtain more arcane power by conquering other evil entities. His power grew, and his surrounding area of influence also grew. Soon, the area under his control rivaled the largest of the bordering nations. The appearance of a new, controlling military force attracted unwanted attention. At first, the leader of this new force was unknown. He was called the Dark Lord of the Shaedow Realm.
          There were many attempts to meet with the neighboring nobility as they were curious about this new leader. No hostile advances were made to neighboring countries, but no peaceful gestures were made. Sundaar, acting as the Dark Lord of the Shaedow Realm, refused all attempts saying he was willing to trade; however, he did not want the neighboring countries meddling in his affairs.
          None was supplied when pressed for their allegiance to the Order of Light. The Shaedow Realm said they were not interested in acquiring more territory but would vehemently defend against any advancement The Order of Light made onto their lands. There could be peace in separation if all parties adhered to and respected the governing laws.
          Sundaar knew the King would have to send his army to deal with him. Let him, thought Sundaar. He has grown much stronger since they parted ways all those years ago. He has also grown wiser. Each kingdom has spies in its courts--some as high as trusted advisors and even royal spouses.
          Yes, let them come. Sundaar didn't relish war; however, he knew the necessity it brought. There will be bloodshed, famine, sickness, and death. Lots of useless death.
          For them.
          He will turn ally against ally, famine into pestilence, and suffering into weakness.
          Sundaar suddenly remembered a quest from thirty years ago. He was saved from a horrible death when a Curse bolt came close to killing him when Hawk jumped in the way and sacrificed himself.
          Reckless fool.
          Why would this memory suddenly appear now when it has not plagued him? He has laid waste to thousands with no remorse. Is he feeling something now?
          Of course not. The fate of the fools who oppose him is their own. Let them come and meet their doom. Or was there a better, far-reaching plan?
          To broker peace and to prove goodwill, Sundaar sent the Bright Star Kingdom, Northern Aubade Barbarians, the Rock Orcs, and the Sea Trolls a vast amount of treasure he had amassed through his earlier conquests. There were rubies, emeralds, diamonds, gold, pearls, precious metals, and minerals of all kinds. He sent golden plates, cups, pictures, saucers, and cutlery. The most important thing he sent was a note:
          I am sending these items in appeasement of my past actions. I ask that you keep these items safe in remembrance of my pact.
          So long as they kept the truce, he would honor their wishes to refrain from the Black Arts. However, his country will remain free until they are ready to take the following steps forward, whenever that may be.
          Besides, he could wait. He had eternity.

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