The Reign of Magic. Wolf Awert
sounded in the distance, came closer and crashed down on Nill. Was the demon actually laughing?
“Listen, little nothing. Go out in your world, become strong and powerful. And once you have become strong and powerful, you will learn that there is still one stronger and more powerful than you. And then you will go and defeat him, and you will learn that nothing has changed. Only now another is above you again. Your short life is not enough to fight everyone who wants to control your life. And even if you should succeed in the impossible, you would still be so far beneath me that I could barely see you.”
Nill shrank beneath the Archdemon’s speech and for the first time truly understood what it meant to be a Nill.
“Your short life is not enough to understand that the lords have lords, and even they must serve others. Like all others, I am commander and servant in one. And in the end even the mightiest must bow down before fate and time, and even then they do not know whether fate and time might not be two faces of the same being. And fate is not free either. ‘Why?’ you ask. We are both here because our fates are entwined. One tiny moment for me is your entire life.”
The demon looked at Nill for a long time, and Nill felt as though he were sinking into those circular black eyes. “The first time you were the one who called me,” the voice rang, “and I wanted to take you with me. But you were not ready yet. Now you come to me and you found me in my own world. The fewest mortals succeed at doing so. And you of all people want to know what I want of you?”
Yes, the demon was unmistakably laughing. He was shaking with mirth, and Nill’s ears were filled with the roaring, booming din. The laugh itself was flat and dull and did not reach Nill through his ears, which were vehemently, but in vain, protesting against the attack. It shook his entire body, bent his spine and knocked his teeth together. The claim that laughter is contagious came from someone who had never heard a demon laugh in his home world.
Nill could do nothing against the voice that filled his head. It was so monumental that it took up all space and made independent thought impossible. His feet were moving without his consent and were putting some distance between their owner and the throne. He managed to look back one last time. The further he went away from Bucyngaphos, the larger the Archdemon became, and Nill felt a power completely unlike anything he had experienced before.
“I fought that one with my dagger.” Nill had to laugh as he realized this folly. The shape of the Archdemon was now surrounded by a wreath of colorless light and dust. But even at this distance Nill could not bear the sight for long. The image broke before his eyes. Talons and claws, tusks and horns, eyes and jagged tail whirled around in chaos. The floor he stood on began to move and ascend. Nill stared at it as it came ever closer, finally smacking him in the forehead. “Dakh!” he yelled. Then the heightened senses left him again.
When he came to he felt a pair of strong hands beating his clothes.
“The next time you go to the Other World, sit a bit further from the fire. And if you want to sit so close, take care not to fall over. A few hairs might be singed, your clothing has a few burn marks, but you seem to be unharmed,” Dakh grumbled over him.
Nill rubbed his face, the skin of which burned a bit in a few places. “What happened?”
Urumir sat still by the fire and said nothing.
“What happened and where were you all this time?”
“I was standing next to you but you didn’t see me. Even I have no idea what happened. No shamanic wisdom would be enough to explain that. You encountered a powerful demon. I felt his presence, but you’ll know about that better than I. The two of you changed the Other World in order to meet. How that happened is also beyond of my knowledge. How am I supposed to know what happened? I don’t know anyone but you who has ever even seen an Archdemon, let alone talked to one. What happened today puts you on the same level as the old ones of legend. Nill, tell me: who, or rather what, are you?”
Nill rubbed his arms, which were cold despite the fire and had begun to turn blue. “I’m someone who wants to learn how that can never happen again. I was scared, so scared. I’ve never been so afraid in my entire life. I felt helpless. There must be something to protect me from that sort of thing. And the demon I met was sitting on a throne, he had great talons, short wings and a boar’s head.”
“Bucyngaphos.” The druid and the shaman whispered the name and listened to the sound of it until Urumir said: “Every mortal is helpless against an Archdemon. Even the strongest mages in Ringwall can do no more than give orders to their servants when summoned. So do not mention what happened here to them. They would fear you. And they destroy all that they fear. Now where is that accursed ram gone?”
“Disappeared,” Dakh said. “Vanished into the darkness. It was nowhere near the fire, though. You can be sure of that, Urumir.”
Nill heard what Dakh said and looked doubtfully into the flames.
Ringwall
The loneliness was at an end. Paths turned into lanes, lanes turned into streets. Lonesome farmhouses came closer to each other, merged to form hamlets, then villages, until finally houses stood in rows and towns were formed. Dakh and Nill had reached Rainhir, the capital of the five kingdoms. It spread like frayed cloth around a round mountain which stood out sharply against the dark blue sky. Nill was at first impressed by the hustle and bustle, the noise and the many houses and small streets, but then realized that it was really quite like his own village, just more hectic.
“So a city is basically just a big village,” Nill said, disillusioned.
“Rainhir is a big village, yes. It really only exists to supply Ringwall with all the things it needs. Mages need to eat and be clothed too. Mages need plants, metals and certain types of wood. This is a place of haggling, dealing and trading. This is not Ringwall.”
The sky had grown dark, almost black, but now flickered a few times and suddenly shone in blinding white light. It began to rain for a few heartbeats and stopped again. The sun burned down upon them in the short breaks from the rain and gave the air an uncomfortable humidity. The druid deemed that a great battle had been fought a few days ago. It always took some time for nature to get back to normal.
Dakh-Ozz-Han’s steps grew longer. Nill knew his companion well enough by now to know that restlessness had taken hold of him, invisible beneath the calm exterior. They crossed the city and stood before the sheer rock of the mountain. High up above, just below the peak a strong wall encircled the mountain. If Rainhir was the necklace, then this wall was the crown.
“What a city that must be if the walls enclose the entire mountain!” Nill exclaimed.
“The walls are, in fact, the city,” Dakh smiled. “They are two stories tall and the mountain is full of carved tunnels and vaults. Nobody knows how far down they go.”
This Ringwall had to be humongous. From a distance it looked like a thin braid on a giant’s head. That head just happened to be the legendary Knor-il-Ank, a mountain with a round peak, deep ravines in its roots and the large ruins of collapsed caves. Even though its peak could be reached in less than a quarter day, the mountain exuded power.
“The deepest roots of the mountain dig deep into the core of the world, and some say they even reach beyond this realm,” Dakh whispered.
The thin crown appeared to be dancing, though Nill knew that to be impossible. Here and there parts of the wall were swallowed by a mystical mist. Other parts of it broke through the fog and jutted out with hard angles against the mountain. Nill could not see where the entrance to the city was, but Dakh was already walking a winding path upwards. The wall’s height was not always even, and so the top of it looked ever more threatening the higher they went and the darker the sky became. Like fangs, Nill thought. The zigzag line was broken at one point. Where the wall would meet the rising sun the next morning a dome was built on the wall, like the nest of a swift cloud-arrow. Above it the view to the stars, below it the thin air of a free fall and all around it the free, endless far sight. Nill gaped,