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sparkindarknessOnly a little one. It was much longer before but it was horribly wordy and unnecessary - besides, spending time in Kyernath's head is just no fun for anyone.
Anyway, a brief prequel back to the ol' Sorcerer and when his goals finally cemented.
Kyernath looked down at the ruin of the village. How long had it been since he and Aiden had stood on the hill looking down at the forces he had gathered? The Three Powers together had been mightier than anything he could have imagined. Nothing was left.
He cursed furiously lashing out in anger. He was only vaguely aware of the ground twisting to a reflection of the ruin in front of him and of the infernal screams of his daemon attendants being banished by his anger.
That hill had been levelled by the battle, leaving a crater in its place. A crater that also covered where his army once was.
Why had Camaalis turned on him? He had handed them the keys to success! Without the numbers he could provide they could be overwhelmed by their enemies beyond counting. Why did they turn him aside? Why did they deny him?
He remembered the blood draining from Aiden’s face. Remembered the hate and disgust in his eyes. Of course, the undead and the daemons are not aesthetically pleasing. In many ways they could be considered objectionable - as could the changes he had made to himself. He absently ran a taloned hand across the ebony scales that covered half of his face. But revulsion at appearance would be as childishly emotional as rejecting salvation just because it is necessary to sacrifice some people for it. What can a few hundred lives count in the balance of the greater good? They mean nothing, logically there can be no hesitation. Only blind emotion would reject the obvious truth of this.
Emotion. At the end Camaalis fails itself. Their beliefs fail them, their morality hollow. They would let the whole world - and this, most magical part of the world, a place which has been cultivated and raised to the height of its powers over millennia beyond counting - would fall as spoils to those too ignorant to realise what a jewel they have. And they would squander it, waste it, turn the power here against itself as they contended for control - and all the very real progress Camaalis had wrought and would bring would fall into ruin.
That cannot happen. Camaalis must return to the truth. Camaalis must learn to do what is right - not just what their flawed emotions drag them to. Camaalis had to heal itself or submit to one who could heal them. Without Camaalis, the world would fall. Without Camaalis, there was no hope. Without Camaalis, all that was good would fall.
Camaalis must rise again to what it was, or all is lost. No matter what the cost - that was the ultimate, logical good.
Suddenly firmed in his decision, Kyernath snapped out of his deep thoughts. With new purpose he reached across the veil between lands into the realm of the dead. He had much to prepare and a war to fight - for the greater good.
Anyway, a brief prequel back to the ol' Sorcerer and when his goals finally cemented.
Kyernath looked down at the ruin of the village. How long had it been since he and Aiden had stood on the hill looking down at the forces he had gathered? The Three Powers together had been mightier than anything he could have imagined. Nothing was left.
He cursed furiously lashing out in anger. He was only vaguely aware of the ground twisting to a reflection of the ruin in front of him and of the infernal screams of his daemon attendants being banished by his anger.
That hill had been levelled by the battle, leaving a crater in its place. A crater that also covered where his army once was.
Why had Camaalis turned on him? He had handed them the keys to success! Without the numbers he could provide they could be overwhelmed by their enemies beyond counting. Why did they turn him aside? Why did they deny him?
He remembered the blood draining from Aiden’s face. Remembered the hate and disgust in his eyes. Of course, the undead and the daemons are not aesthetically pleasing. In many ways they could be considered objectionable - as could the changes he had made to himself. He absently ran a taloned hand across the ebony scales that covered half of his face. But revulsion at appearance would be as childishly emotional as rejecting salvation just because it is necessary to sacrifice some people for it. What can a few hundred lives count in the balance of the greater good? They mean nothing, logically there can be no hesitation. Only blind emotion would reject the obvious truth of this.
Emotion. At the end Camaalis fails itself. Their beliefs fail them, their morality hollow. They would let the whole world - and this, most magical part of the world, a place which has been cultivated and raised to the height of its powers over millennia beyond counting - would fall as spoils to those too ignorant to realise what a jewel they have. And they would squander it, waste it, turn the power here against itself as they contended for control - and all the very real progress Camaalis had wrought and would bring would fall into ruin.
That cannot happen. Camaalis must return to the truth. Camaalis must learn to do what is right - not just what their flawed emotions drag them to. Camaalis had to heal itself or submit to one who could heal them. Without Camaalis, the world would fall. Without Camaalis, there was no hope. Without Camaalis, all that was good would fall.
Camaalis must rise again to what it was, or all is lost. No matter what the cost - that was the ultimate, logical good.
Suddenly firmed in his decision, Kyernath snapped out of his deep thoughts. With new purpose he reached across the veil between lands into the realm of the dead. He had much to prepare and a war to fight - for the greater good.