What follows is the final chapter of RIFT ASUNDER – Edge of Oblivion. The tale of Eaj Cire will continue. Edge of Oblivion was a trilogy put together to introduce Eaj and the World of Rift to the gaming community. Originally I had planned to walk Eaj through the starter area in a single chapter. But as I began to write the column Eaj started to take on a life of his own, his story grew, changed, twisted around, and became so much more than the original idea. So for those that have enjoyed and followed his story I apologize for the delay. This column was intended and shall be a weekly tale. I just had much work to do to workout not only a good look at RIFT itself, but make his trials fit into it. I hope you all enjoy the final chapter of the introduction, and hope you all join Eaj as he walks into the World proper in the forthcoming RIFT ASUNDER – Chapter 1 – The Beginning of the End.
The screaming abates, the pain lessens. Or perhaps I’m simply getting used to it again. I can still hear the echo of Shyla’s voice, so beautiful, melodic, even in despair. I can feel, understand new skills, routines. Years of training imparted in moments. Perhaps that is where the pain comes from. Or maybe it’s the truth, my past, becoming clearer. Either way, I now recall the years of work, the practice, the suffering for my art. I am a Blade Dancer. An Assassin of beauty, fluidity. I remember my name, these skills, but not my past, nor where I acquired this knowledge. Does it matter? Truly? I simply am, and for now, that’s enough.
I understand my place, what I must do. That will have to be enough. An evil has marched across this land, a brother lost in greed, power, madness. I shall do what I can to repel this enemy, and given the chance, I shall end his life, his tyranny.
I hear a voice now in my head, that same woman, the beautiful one with the dead eyes. I could never forget her voice, as if I have heard it all my life.
“Eaj? Eaj? EAJ!! Awaken my love, it’s time.”
The World fades back into focus, the pain lingers, the lights, the sounds, intense. Shyla stands before me holding out her hand. A dwarf stands beside her, smiling down at me. Yet there is no joy in that expression, it’s almost as if he enjoyed watching me suffer. When I look upon him his expression changes as he looks away quickly. Strange. I shall remember this moment.
Shyla helps me to my feet, smiles sweetly. “I see you have come back to us, with more of yourself remembered.”
“I know I am Eaj Cire. I vaguely remember you, a man named Cyril, a few others. The name Erzabeta haunts my mind, though I know not why. As does the name Vladislas. These two I know should mean much to me, I simply don’t yet know why.”
“In time all will be made clear. For now you must simply press onward, time is short, darkness grows around us even as we speak now.”
“What can I do my Lady? How can I aid this cause?”
“Go forth, pray for strength at the Altar of Tavril. Once you are bolstered, seek out Cyril at Valor Hold, he can show you the extent of the horror that we face. Valor Hold can be found beyond the Ardenburgh Gate, on the other side of the Bloodmark Grove. Be warned, the Grove is filled with not just mindless undead, but cunning and powerful Defiant.”
“I fear nothing!” I proclaim.
“But you do, as we all do, accept it, embrace it; just don’t let it stop you, betray you.”
I bow to her, tell her I shall follow her instructions, and taking my leave I move off into Ardenburgh.
Ardenburgh. I knew this place, had walked it’s streets before, many times. Erzabeta loved it here, the vendors, the gardens, the smiling people, children running screaming though the streets with that carefree view of life we all admire, envy, miss. Vladislas joined us here on many occasions. I can see the three of us just wandering about, laughing, drinking, lost in nothing but our companionship, the moment. Odd, that I can remember that, them, their names, but still have difficulty putting faces to those names. Reflecting on all of this, the memories, the dreadful gaps, I look around at what has become of our once loved town.
Fires burn still in some sections, others have already been consumed by the flames, smoke rises into the sky darkening everything. What structures remain are boarded up or simply abandoned. Notes can be found posted everywhere, on doors, in town squares; warnings to those that shall come, and messages to lovers, families, friends. Few citizens walk these streets now, those few that do never walk, they run. The town is filled with horrors now. Lumbering undead, Shadow like apparitions, strange machines emitting decay, death, and disease. The sights are beyond description. The smells, unbearable. The further I walk into the town the more difficult it becomes simply to draw breath. The air is thick, putrid. Pressing forward, dispatching any living dead that come near me with ease I finally make my way to the Altar Shyla told me about. As I kneel before it a man appears before me screaming, moving to kill. I spin easily away from his attack and quickly dispatch him with a single thrust of my dagger to the back of his neck. Wiping the blade clean I kneel before the altar, place my hand upon it, lowering my head.
The pain is instant and terrible. A burning of not only flesh but soul. For a moment I can’t pull my hand off it, and in that moment I see a woman, laughing.
Screaming, I rip my hand free. The palm is burned slightly, trembling. I have seen enough of this madness, this place I once loved become so unclean. I move onward, eventually making my way to the Ardenburgh Gate. Two men flank its opening, beyond which I can see a forest. From here the forest looms dark and sinister. I want not to go inside such a place, yet I know beyond it is my destination, Valor Hold. As I move to the gate the short man, calling himself Brother Jebiah takes my arm gently, looks me in the eyes and whispers, “Be careful my son, beyond this gate lies madness. Tread safely, and may the Gods look over you.”
I notice the second man looking on, smiling, almost laughing. I approach him. Looking at me as if he knows me he says, “The Gods! What a fool! Ignore that coward Eaj, the Lady of Pain herself watches over you.” I press him for more information, implore him to explain, tell me how he knows my name, but he says no more. He simply stands there looking at me, smiling. I move on, head down the hill into the Bloodmark Grove, leaving behind the despair of Ardenburgh.
As I move down the hill deeper into the gloom of the grove I wonder, am I making a difference? Have my efforts mattered? Since my return I have helped out where needed, run errands, eradicated foes; yet looking back Ardenburgh is not cleansed, it still teems with the dead, the wicked, the fallen. I have dispatched many, yet the numbers have only grown. Perhaps my efforts are in vain, perhaps the only real difference I’ll make still lays before me. This thought alone keeps me going, believing. This wood, dark, dank, and imposing is filled not with mindless corpses, but with smart, determined Defiant. More machines, what they do I know not, I simply now they must be destroyed. I kill, dismantle, rip and tear my way through this wood, defiant falling around me. In a corner of the wood a see a table setup, such on odd place, such an odd display. As I move toward it a man appears, an odd man, tall, colorful, almost foolish looking. A single word comes to mind as I see him, Orphiel. I know this man, or of him. He does not attack, he simply nods, smiles, and vanishes. Something is wrong here, terribly wrong. I press on.
As I head in the direction of Valor Hold my reflexes warn me, save me. An arrow flies past my ear, so close. Looking back I see a woman, preparing to fire again as she runs toward me, her eyes filled with madness, intent. Her second arrow I block with a dagger. I kneel ready myself for her assault. Throwing her bow over her back she draws a wicked looking sword, screams, leaps at me, her weapon drawn back in a two handed grip. I wait. I watch her almost in slow motion, battle is always like this for me. As she descends I see the expression on her face shift from evil intent to terror. She sees not fear on my face, only a wicked smile. She realizes her mistake, literally caught in the middle of it. As she falls, brings her sword around, I pivot, moving like a blur, slashing out with my dagger. I cut her deep from hip to hip. She falls flat, arms outstretched. Had I inflicted this would to her while she stood her insides would be falling free even now. Only the ground keeps her in one piece. She looks up at me pleading, the pain etched in her features. I smile at her, turn and walk away laughing.
I move through the grove, death in my wake. I am bothered. Not by the carnage I have left behind, but the simple truth, that I have enjoyed it. What manner of man am I? Me a Champion of the light? Why than do I so revel in the darkness? Something is wrong, terribly wrong. Not just around me, but inside me. What am I? Do I even want to find out? Do I have a choice? I think not. I must push on, find the answers, whatever they may be. Finally I move out of the forest and come upon a camp. Surely this is Valor Hold. The camp is simple yet efficient. I see vendors, trainers, a few men I recognize yet can’t quite place. And more than that, I see the chaos that lies beyond. The fields drenched in blood, the battles even now still raging. And off in the distance, upon a great rise, I see a Rift. A Death Rift, black and pulsing, spewing forth it’s nightmares upon this world. I smile, anticipation gripping me. This, at last is my destination, my destiny. I shall smite this great evil and set things right again. Or I shall die in the effort. I move to the trainer I see before me, he of my like. I pay him his fee and in an instant he evolves my skills, makes me more complete. How he does this I know not, I simply know it hurts, and yet heals. Better than I was, more, I move on to the main tent in the camp, move toward a man that is clearly in charge here. A great man, a man of bearing, poise, respect. His name is Cyril. A I approach he nods, looks off at the Death Rift, whispers to me “Soon, my friend, but first you must make your way to Ascendant Hall and stop Orphiel and his madness.” He looks at me sadly, tells me where I need to go, what I need to do, and I head off to face this Orphiel and his machines.
I fight my way to the great hillside before me. Well, fight is not truly accurate, it’s more like a massacre. Nothing can stand before me. I encounter Defiant Assassins, Necromancers, Soldiers. All fall before me, fall to my daggers, screaming, bleeding, dying. Why do I smile as I wade through them? Why do I hear myself, laughing madly as I ascend the hill, cutting down everything in my path? Surely I have gone insane. Surely the despair, the carnage, the killing, has broken me. And yet, somehow I know, I was born for this, for this moment, all like it. Making my way to the top I stand before a terrible abomination. A machine, yet so much more. There is life here, somehow. It sees me, yet has no eyes, just gleaming magic orbs where eyes should be. As it rises to it’s full height I prepare myself, wait for the charge, it’s first and last mistake. As it rushes toward me I feint to my left, it follows, and in a blur of motion I am behind it, driving my daggers dead into the back of its neck. It crashes down, skids to a halt, just pieces of metal now, the life extinguished. From behind me I hear a scream, “NO!!! What have you done?” I turn slowly as I see Orphiel running to me, he pulls up a few feet away, staring dumbstruck, confused. “You?” he whimpers. With a bellow of fury he attacks, slow, clumsy, so very limited in his skills, only his anger drives him. I leap, cut him shallow, again and again. In seconds his hands, his face, his body are covered in small wounds. He looks down at himself, I laugh. Looking up at me he knows the truth, I can not be killed by his like. Reaching into a pouch he whispers something I can’t hear and I am frozen. Every muscle clenched tight. I will my arms, my legs, anything to move; but nothing happens. He approaches me slowly, looks deep into my eyes and whispers “Eaj, I would kill you now if she would allow it. But she has plans for you. Be assured Assassin when your value to her is spent, I will kill you.”
With that he vanishes, and the spell is broken; I can move again. Turning, I see another Messenger of the Vigil at the end of the broken platform. I approach quickly, stand before him. Placing his hand upon my shoulder he states, “Now Ascended, your final soul. The last piece of the puzzle that was your life, shall be again. Prepare, this one shall be the worst by far.”
I grasp his arm, take his knowledge, his secrets, his lies, and smile at him. He tries to withdraw from my grasp but I hold tight, the pain flowing through me, the skill, the training, all of it. He was right, the pain is far worse, but I am beyond pain now, I am myself once again. I am a Riftstalker, master of shifting, porting. I smile, this last soul is awesome in it’s simplicity, yet devastating in it’s application. I am a killer now, trained, born, made. The Messenger takes a step back, a look of fear in it’s eyes. It offers to fly me back to Valor Hold, but I decline, I want not to fly, I want to walk, shift, dance, kill, my way back down the hill, back across the field. I step away lightly, grinning, looking forward to the death before me, the death I shall cause.
By the time I make it back to Valor Hold I am drenched in blood, covered in gore. I walk up to Cyril, stand before him and pronounce, “I am ready, it’s time to end this.”
“Perhaps it’s true, perhaps a man like you is the only thing that can save us now. But at what cost?”
“Cost be damned! Give me a horse, stand aside and I shall do what you fear to do.”
“I fear not, I am simply here to guild our brothers and sisters to their destiny. You my friend, are lost. You think you know the truth, but the actual truth is tearing you apart, and you can’t even see it, to blinded are you by your arrogance, your rage.”
I simply smile, laugh at him. Laugh at all of these people. He has a page bring me a mount, and I head off toward the hill, toward my destiny, laughing madly the entire way.
I reach the top just in time to see a great Dragon. A Dragon of shadow, smoke, pure evil. It stands behind the Death Gate, dark energy flowing from it into a man I know to be Aedraxis, brother of Zareph; the tyrant that has brought this despair to the land. As I run closer I see others gathered before him, Cyril, Shyla, Borrin, and Carwin, bastard son of the late king. They all stand at the ready, watching as I do as Aedraxis takes the energy of Regulos into him. He swells, warps, grows huge, frightening and awesome. He is Aedraxis no more, now what stands, nay hovers before us is The Shade of Regulos himself, made flesh by this weak man’s greed and lust for power. He addresses those before him, casting down Carwin with a bolt of deadly energy. The others enraged, attack. I shift closer, begin my greatest dance of death. Together we cut, cast, and heal. A perfect fighting group we are, each complimenting the other. The fight is long and brutal, and when it ends, the Shade, lies lifeless at our feet. Standing over it’s body panting, a look of pure hatred on my face, I laugh, giggle, scream, as the last of my sanity slips away. Shyla comes to me, hands me a great hammer, it glows with beautiful light. She steps away, guiding her friends to a safe distance and whispers in my mind “Finish it!”
I slam the hammer into the corpse of the Shade of Regulos and the world explodes. I feel myself floating. What have I done? What have I become?
“Show him the truth, now is the time.”
“Are you sure?”
“He can only serve us if he truly understands. Show him now!”
The Battlefield of before. Same moment, same companions. Vladislas to my right, nodding, smiling just before he rushed off into battle. Erzabeta to my left, kissing me, whispering “I Love You”, as she herself joins the fray. I prepare to join my wife, my friend, but as I attempt to attack I hear a voice in my head, a voice I know to well, and it whispers to me through the din of battle, “Eaj, you dared love, now destroy that love and than kill your mark. He must fall this day, as you promised.” For a second I am terrified, my heart aches at the terrible truth, I can’t kill Erzabeta, my loving wife, mother of my child; nor could I possibly kill Vlad. I scream to her in my mind “NOOO!!!” And I hear the most awful thing in reply, she simply laughs. That same evil, empty laugh I have heard escape me more and more often as I have ventured forth. And than I simply act, not of my own will, but of hers. I draw a dagger from my belt, whisper a word I don’t even know and it glows, crackles, with electric magic. I watch in horror as I hurl the dagger and it drives into Vladislas’s back. Lightning strikes from the heavens as it drives deep, he shudders, and falls dead before me.
Behind me I hear my Love scream “Eaj! NO!”, hear her rushing toward me. I turn, dagger moving of it’s own accord as she slams into me. For a moment we simply stand there looking into each others eyes. In that moment my heart breaks, my soul dies, my mind snaps. A single stream of blood running from her mouth, she whispers “I Loved You”, than collapses before me. I stand there, numb, frozen, looking down at the dagger in my hand, covered with the blood of my wife. And than the moment passes, and I am simply Eaj, the killer sent by Alsbeth, the Assassin created to look like a guardian by Orphiel, the boy made into this monster by The Faceless Man. I smile. An evil empty smile. I remember my task now, my target.
And than, the strangest thing, my view of the world around me flips, rotates, end over end until it stops. And the last thing I see is my body, standing before me, headless, quivering slightly, than sagging downward. Behind it, a man, tall, huge, holding a bloody two-handed sword screaming. The Last thing I hear is Alsbeth screaming in rage, the man screaming in anguish, and than, I hear, and see, no more.