Coronation
By VictorK

For eight days a red comet hung in the sky above the Chaos Wastes. It was late in the year and the sun had almost disappeared from the day, to be replaced by comet’s red glare. The host of Alith Anar, the self-styled Everchosen, sprawled out on the cold plain. Warriors gathered from all across the wastes kept their eyes on the ground for fear of the comet. Even the strongest of the Tolkmars or the Kurgan were afraid to match their gaze against the comet’s, every man instinctively knew that it meant something, and none of them wanted to be found unworthy of what it portended. There were no good omens in the wastes, only those that signaled divine retribution or a new challenge for the weary but eager followers of the dark gods to face. Nothing was got that was not earned.

The air was hot and thick in the large hut where Alith Anar held his court. A fire reduced to its smoldering coals occupied the center of the hut while the Shadow King (he retained the title, though he was using it less and less) rested on a bed of furs. He was surrounded by the elves who had answered his call, though to those elves who remained scattered across the world Alith Anar remained dead, another tragic figure from a tragic age. Even the chieftains of the tribes Alith Anar had subjugated in his long march across the Chaos Wastes sat further from him than his Shadow Warriors. The closest to him, however, was the wolf curled at his feet. The wolf dozed while the chieftains sat forward on their hides watching as another old man attempted to explain the meaning of the comet that hung in the sky. The sheep’s entrails added to the already foul smell in the hut, but Alith Anar was willing to indulge the humans their superstitions. The haruspex chanted in the Tolkmar tongue as he held aloft a liver for the chieftains to see. The animal’s blood covered his hands and the organ quivered as they shook.

“The liver is the source of blood.” The haruspex wheezed. “A drop of blood colors the sky, the heavens bleed. The omen is delivered from Kharnan, though he speaks for all the gods. Praise be to the Blood Father.” A few chieftains murmured the prayer. “Kharnan gives his blood that we might witness it, taste it, and become mad with his frenzy.” The haruspex shuffled around the fire pit. “He calls us.” The old man tossed the liver onto the coals, where it began to hiss. Blood bubbled up from inside the organ as the fire slowly roasted it. Every human in the room stared intently at the pattern that emerged though only the haruspex could read it. He was well known throughout the tribes, his wisdom was beyond question. The sweet smell of cooked meat began to overwhelm the less pleasant odors. The haruspex shook his head. “The signs are not clear. The blood is silent as to our fate, but it screams your name, my lord.” The haruspex bowed his head toward Alith Anar. Soon all eyes were upon him. The Shadow King dismissed the haruspex with a wave of his hand.

“So long as I remain in the eye of the gods I do not care where my destiny lies.” The chieftains seemed satisfied with the answer and nodded their heads. The haruspex bowed his head and withdrew from the hut. Warriors from the human tribes came forward to dispose of the slaughtered sheep, discreetly carrying it out through the front of the hut. Everyone in the hut was silent for the moment, every chieftain could recognize the scowl on Alith Anar’ face and the Shadow Warriors were never much for conversation. “My Chieftains.” The Shadow King began quietly. “Are there any among you who would stand against me?”

They all shook their heads.

“Some of you I have defeated in war. Others swore allegiance to me for fear that I would defeat them in war. Are there are men left in these wastes who would bring war against me?”

“None, Everchosen.” A chieftain of the Kurgan whose father had sworn allegiance to Alith Anar replied.

The Shadow King nodded. “Then why am I still here? I have spent centuries in these wastes and proven myself a hundred times over. I am chosen.”

“Then go south.” The wolf muttered at Alith Anar’s feet. “You have an army; you have an enemy, why not take your revenge if you are so certain?” The elf just scowled. “Because you are afraid to act without the permission of your masters. It’s a wise fear to have.” The chieftains shied back, none of them would have ever spoken to Alith Anar so boldly. Only the wolf was allowed to undercut him. That was their relationship; the wolf was the only one who Alith Anar considered an equal. “As much as you may desire revenge, we both know you fear failure more.” The hut again lapsed into silence. The fire popped.

The wolf’s head shot up after a few minutes of silence, startling everyone around him. Alith Anar sat up and looked down on his companion whose golden eyes were fixed on the entrance to hut. The Shadow King followed the wolf’s gaze and narrowed his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak when the harsh sound of footsteps on the rocky earth answered his question. A small man, perhaps a servant for one of the lesser warriors in Alith Anar’s host was pushed through the hide flap that covered the hut by a pair of Shadow Warriors. The man shook visibly and had his gaze directed over his shoulder at the elves who had brought him to the hut. Clutched in his thin fingers was a simple leather bag. When he looked to see where he was going and his eyes met Alith Anar’s he yelped and fell onto his knees. Before the Shadow King could ask his name the man blurted out his story.

“Spare me, my lord! It fell from the sky not long ago, I swear! I did not mean to withhold it from you! I am but a simple man, forgive me if I hesitated in my awe to bring it to you!” He held up the leather bag and buried his face in to the dirt.

“Bring it to me.” Alith Anar commanded. His voice was strong but he cast a doubtful glance at the wolf, whose eyes were glued to the heavy depression at the bottom of the leather bag. The Shadow Warriors stepped forward to take the bag but Alith Anar waved them off. “If he wants to prove that he was not withholding something from his lord let him rise and deliver it himself.” The Shadow Warriors stepped back and the man took his face out of the dirt and searched Alith Anar’s face for any sign of a cruel joke. He found none and slowly got to his feet. The man advanced around the fire pit, shuffling his feet and ever once taking his eyes off the elf he believed to be the Everchosen. Alith Anar held out his hand and very gingerly placed the bag in his palm. He scurried back almost as soon as he was free from its weight.

Alith Anar felt the weight of the bag in his palm and glanced at the wolf a second time. As before his companion’s attention was completely locked on the bag. Nodding once Alith Anar carefully turned the bag over and lets its contents tumble into his other hand. The first thing he noticed about the object was that it fit almost perfectly into his palm. It was smooth to the touch and slightly warm. Alith Anar held it up to his face and looked into it. It was an amber orb that glowed with its own inner light. A single sliver of darkness cut through its center like a cat’s pupil.

“The Eye of Sheerian.” The wolf said hungrily.

Alith Anar titled the gem from side to side. The chieftains leaned forward for any chance to look upon it. “What is it?”

“It is a treasure.” The wolf replied as he sat up so as to have a better view of the gem. “It was sent to you, this is a sign.”

The Shadow King nodded. “Get the man who brought this to me whatever he wants.” With that sentiment he pushed the man out of his mind. “A sign of what?” he asked the wolf, continuing to peer into the gem. It glowed brighter, and before Alith Anar could even gasp it swallowed up his entire field of vision.

Alith Anar recognized his camp, even from the air. It sprawled out, a collection of hunts and smoky fires, over the whole plain. His field of vision turned away from it, and he began to fly. It seemed that the whole of the Chaos Wastes disappeared below him but he remembered every inch of it, moving slightly south towards the Olde World. The mountains loomed ahead, approaching with alarming speed. He was taken in between the peaks, through an impossible maze of ravines and cliffs until finally his pace slowed and he was brought to wall hewn from the rocks. There was a trail leading up the side of the mountain into a small cave, wide enough for a man to pass through. His vision disappeared into the darkness of the cave.

When he woke from the vision Alith Anar was on his back and his chieftains were arrayed around him. His fingers ached, and he realized the pain was from clenching the Eye of Sheerian in his hand. The wolf sat outside the circle, placidly watching his companion. The chieftains were clearly agitated, mumbling amongst themselves as Alith Anar returned to consciousness. The elf sat up, his attention on the wolf. “Prepare to move.” He told his chieftains. “I have received a vision.”

The whole host moved across the Chaos Wastes, turning south towards the mountain ranges that reached north from the Olde World. It was a slow migration but Alith Anar was patient. The Eye of Sheerian remained tucked in the same leather bag it had been delivered in. The comet seemed to follow the host as it traveled, hanging in the sky above until it crowned the mountain range itself with its blood red mark. The host could not support itself in the mountains themselves, and was forced to make camp in the plains. Alith Anar took his Shadow Warriors with him and entered the mountains to seek out the cave he had been shown in the vision. He remembered every inch of the maze, nothing had changed.

Alith Anar stood on the threshold of the cave which he could now see had been cut into the side of the mountain. “Shadow Warriors.” He called over his shoulder. “Await my return.” He started forward into the darkness before stopping. “Are you coming, wolf?”

The wolf settled onto his belly. “No. I will be quite comfortable right here. Go on ahead. I’ll see you at the end.”

Alith Anar nodded and resumed his descent. He had come armed. Two knives and a long sword, he didn’t think that a bow would do him much good. The Ruinous Powers did not favor that weapon. He felt that the cave was slowly tilting downwards and that he was being swallowed by the mountain. He couldn’t help the excitement he felt, something that hadn’t touched him in a long time. The war with the humans of the north, even if it was unending, had been all too simple. He was the Shadow King; no crude king of the Hung could hope to defeat him. That was why he had hesitated to launch his attack. Did he command a force that could confront Malekith? The Dwarf King? The Lords of Sarthailor, that new land his Shadow Warriors had told him about? Could he hope to forge his host into a war machine that could topple the world? He didn’t know, so he hesitated to seek his revenge. And now he was in the bowels of a mountain, walking towards something he did not know because a sign had told him to come. He no longer questioned that he was in thrall to the Ruinous Powers.

There was a light at the end of the tunnel. Torches flickered, and after his time in the darkness Alith Anar had to restrain himself before he ran into the room to soak up the light. He kept his wits and approached cautiously, staying in the shadows for as long as possible before stepping into the light. He was in a small chamber, crudely carved out of the rock. Four torches provided enough light for the whole of the room. It was completely dry. Someone’s hands had fashioned it, Alith Anar was certain of it. The tunnel continued on the opposite side of the chamber, the same man sized opening leading towards the same darkness. The Shadow King stopped just as he entered the room and fixed his gaze on the man sitting just to the side of the tunnel.

He was loathsome and his rotting smell filled the room. He seemed to sag inside his black robes like a wet sack, his bulk spreading out over the stone bench he sat on. Alith Anar could not see anything of his features except for his wide, almost impossibly large lips which were turned down in an eternal frown. The rest of his face was hidden by a black hood. Long, blistered fingers wrapped around his knees. His lips glistened with sticky saliva. “You look so different when you are on your feet, rightful lord of Nagarythe.” The man burbled, as if drowning in his own fluids. “Are you ready to accept your strings? Go forward and there is no going back.”

Alith Anar only nodded. “I was wondering when I might see you again.”

“You have never been far from my sight.” The robed figure burbled. “I watched with delight every man you sent to my worms. You are confident in yourself, Alith Anar, yet I have seen the crude axes of these poor men break your flesh. More than once you have come close to me.” He raised one of his skeletal fingers and pointed at the wall. “There.”

A skeleton was mounted on the wall. A great hunting spear which Alith Anar recognized as coming from Nagarythe had killed the man and now pinned him skeleton against the wall. A suit of black armor with one clean hole through it still clung to the bones. “That armor is a gift.” The robed figured burbled. “Remove the spear and it is yours. I warn you, the arm that threw that spear was quite strong. It may be difficult to remove.”

Alith Anar looked from the armor to the figure. “Why would I want a suit of armor that has been breached?”

The robed figure laughed, though the sound was anything but pleasant. “It can be repaired. It is fine armor; you will never meet a foe like the one who pierced it.” His giant, frog-like lips twitched as he grinned. “Besides. The elf wrapped in coarse chain and beaten plates cannot afford to be picky.”

The Shadow King glared at the robed figure before he reluctantly turned towards the armor. It was a short walk to the wall and the skeleton was suspended only a few inches from the ground. Alith Anar took hold of the spear and braced himself, summoning up all his strength to pull it from the rock. He drew in a breath and then pulled. The spear came out of the wall with ease. Alith Anar stumbled backwards and eventually fell from the effort he had exerted. The armor and the skeleton fell to the ground and crumbled to dust upon striking the rock floor. Only a few fragments remained, but the armor was gone. Alith Anar sat up and looked at the pile of dust in confusion. The robed figure stood and moved to block the way forward. “You fail.”

Alith Anar got back to his feet and advanced on the robed figure. “Failed? How can I have failed!” He shouted.

“The armor is destroyed. You failed the test. Turn around, you will not go further.”

The Shadow King howled in rage but refused to turn around. “This was your test? To trick me into destroying armor?”

“The gifts are ours to bestow, Shadow King. Remember that.”

“Then I bestow my gift on you.” Alith Anar seethed as he approached the foul smelling figured. “Die.” He grabbed one of the daggers at his waist and twisted, drawing the blade across the figure’s protruding belly. It split with ease, the dagger slid through the rotten fibers and the skin beneath them as if they were mush. The skin over the figure’s belly was still taught and sprung back, spilling his intestines onto the rock floor. As soon as his organs were loose the black flies that fed on his insides spilled out and took flight. Alith Anar screamed as they swarmed over him and began to feed. He dropped his dagger and stumbled back as his clothes were torn to pieces by the hungry flies. Even through the overwhelming buzzing he could the robed figure’s burbled laugh.

“I accept your gift; I hope you find mine just as satisfying!”

Alith Anar fell to his knees as the flies began to burrow into his flesh. He covered his face and screamed, every inch of him on fire. They crawled up his nose and into his mouth as he screamed, and soon his insides burned with the same pain as his outsides. They ignored his eyes which were wide open in order to see the flesh disappearing from his hands as the flies shifted over them. He would be reduced to bone, but despite the pain and the mutilation he remained awake, his face awash with terror.

“I release you, Shadow King. Die if you feel that you must. Feed my worms after the flies have had their fill.”

The Shadow King could not speak otherwise he would have protested. He gagged on the flies and managed only murmurs as he shuffled forward on his knees. Flies crunched beneath him. He lifted one leg and planted his foot on the ground. Even through the carpet of flies he could feel the warmth below him. He had stepped on the robed figure’s entrails. Alith Anar screamed again, expelling some flies before he pushed his decaying muscles to their limit and returned to his feet. He dared not try to move forward, he knew he would fall. As long as he stood, he refused to die.

“Very well. Live, then, if that is your choice. But remember, this is where we attach the strings.”

A new pain shot through Alith Anar as the flies seemed to bite as one. He screamed and held up his hands. The flies were disappearing; or rather the definition was disappearing between them. The hard carapace that covered each fly began to fuse with the carapace of the one next to it. They clung to the Shadow King’s bones and slowly began to shape themselves. For Alith Anar it felt like something was pressing against his chest and that his limbs where in a vise. He couldn’t scream anymore, his lungs wouldn’t let him. Slowly the pain began to subside and the Shadow King could open his eyes. He didn’t feel any different than when the ordeal began, but he could sense that he was changed. He held a hand up to his face and regarded the black armor that now encased it with a mix of dread and fascination that weighed heavily in his stomach. There was some resemblance to the armor that had been pinned to the wall but it wasn’t much more than a recognition that the colors were similar and some of the angles were harsh. The same smith had fashioned both suits, but Alith Anar’s was tailored to his elven frame. It was even vaguely familiar; as if the smith had cobbled together the armor he had worn millennia earlier in his struggles against Malekith. There was an elven grace to it; no man could have done the armor justice.

The robed figure shuffled to the side to allow Alith Anar to pass. He dragged his organs with him. “Take your weapons and move forward. It is dangerous to linger for too long.” Alith Anar nodded and knelt to pick up his weapons and the Eye of Sheerian which had fallen from him. Even through the steel he could feel as well as he had when flesh had clung to his bones. He started forward, the armor almost weightless on his shoulders. As he moved past the robed figured one of his hands shot out to take the Shadow King’s wrist and hold him back. “An Everchosen is neither mortal nor daemon. He must be something else, the grey in between, the bridge between life and death, prone to fall to either if he is not balanced.” Alith Anar nodded and moved on.

The second passageway was just as dark as the first but Alith Anar could feel it sloping upwards. He moved at an even pace through the darkness, the armor did not tire. He wondered at the price he had paid, flesh for steel, and couldn’t help but think of the Witch King he sought to slay. He worried in the back of his mind that he might become like Malekith, but the thought was fleeting. He congratulate himself on entertaining the possibility, but pushed it away in the few moments it took to reassure himself that justice was on his side.

Hot air struck Alith Anar in the face and he realized the nature of the dark space had changed. He reached out to his right and couldn’t feel any stone. The same to his left. The passage had opened up suddenly and he was sure where he was, he had expected another light to tell him that he had arrived wherever he was intended to go. He walked forward and for the first time could hear his footsteps echo around him. He didn’t think it wise to call out for someone. He jumped as he felt a pair of hands slide around his waist and someone pressed against his back.

“I waited so long for you, my Dancer in the Dark…” A soft, alluring elven maiden’s voice whispered in Alith Anar’s ear. Every bit of his body tingled. He turned, slowly with his hands over those of the elven maiden so that he wouldn’t break her embrace as he turned around. She seemed to glow, extending her own soft aura into the darkness. Her eyes where mismatched, one blue and one purple, but to the Shadow King that made her all the more enticing. She sighed and laid her head on his hard chest. “So long...I’ve held out for you. I have had eyes for no one but you…” All that Alith Anar could do was pull her close to him. “Please, Shadow King…dance with me?” He nodded in reply.

They danced in the dark, holding each other tightly as they drew and redrew a pattern on the rock floor with their feet. The aura around the maiden began to radiate outward until the rock walls were exposed and Alith Anar’s shadow cast onto them. The Shadow King closed his eyes as he danced, giving in to the overwhelming feeling of contentment that washed over his body. When he opened them the rock walls had changed into something he had almost forgotten. The sights and smells of Ulthuan, real sunlight and elven architecture nearly overwhelmed with a longing for his home. They danced together as the rough rock floor was transformed into a tile mosaic. Alith Anar’s steps began to slow as his senses buzzed with the beauty of the experience. He took his last step and sank to his knees, his arms still wrapped around the maiden’s legs. The Shadow King began to sob with joy. She knelt in front of him and wrapped her fingers in his black hair. “Stay with me, Dancer? Everything you desire can be yours here, with me.”

“Yes!” Alith Anar blurted out, hugging her closer. She smiled and picked him up, and they began to dance again, covering every inch of the floor.

The ecstasy began to fade as the dance wore on. The Shadow King didn’t know how long he had lasted before the empty feeling in his stomach began to suck the euphoria out of his bones. The maiden’s touch began to lose its electricity until it was just a dull warmth against his armor. For the first time he felt uncomfortable inside of it. The sunlight, the first clean rays he had seen in millennia, faded. The smooth elven architecture, such a relief after years of huts and rough hewn forts, melted back into the rocky cavern that had greeted him when the maiden’s aura had blossomed. Even that began to fade until darkness reigned and his heart ached. He couldn’t even picture the maiden anymore. The only figure that occupied the darkness was Malekith. When the magic was gone, he pushed her away.

The maiden gasped, and then was silent. Alith Anar stood alone, sweat beading on his brow. The tingling returned to his limbs, the electric feeling he had when touching her was back but it made him ache. “No one refuses me.” She seethed. “I forgave you for last time…It was the others…But it was just us here and…” She choked on the last words. “…You refused me?” The Shadow King was beginning to feel his mistake as his breathing picked up. Sweat stung his eyes. The wind in the cavern began to pick up and it carried the maiden’s voice away with it. “Never!” A gust rushed at Alith Anar and threw him back against the stone floor.

The cavern went mad with wind. The Shadow King could barely stand or breathe as the air was stolen from his mouth before he could take it in. He was in total darkness, and even he knew better than to fight the wind. Alith Anar reached into the pouch at his side and wrapped his fingers around the Eye of Sheerian. “Guide me…to safety…” He implored the gem with a wheeze as he stumbled forward; trying to find the exit he knew was on the other side.

“You will not escape me!” The wind howled in his ears. Alith Anar heard something crack and then tiny rock fragments struck his face, burying themselves into his flesh. It stung, and he felt the longing for the maiden’s presence intensify. The temperature dropped precipitously as the wind swirled around him, chilling the Shadow King even through his armor. He tightened his grip on the Eye and shut his eyes before they froze. “Come back to my arms! So warm…All you have is pain!” The wind rushed at him again and threatened to throw him back to the entrance of the cavern, but he stood firm. The warmth from the Eye of Sheerian comforted him, and he believed that it would guide his footsteps.

The Shadow King reached out, and touched rock. His heart fell and the need to touch the maiden again rose inside of him. There was no exit, or the Eye of Sheerian had led him astray. “You are empty!” He shouted. “I don’t want you, I never wanted you!”

“You’re lying. There’s nothing you want more than what I can give you.” The wind pressed him against the wall.

“No!” Alith Anar shouted, clawing at the rock wall and pulling himself up. “I have to move forward! I have to get back…” He was off the ground now, he had no idea how high but the ache in his stomach was subsiding the higher he got, so he climbed. “I can’t stay…You are beautiful but I can’t stay…” His finger probed a ledge that was deeper than the others. It could be an exit…

“I will not let you.” The wind gusted, and tore Alith Anar from the wall. He fell.

When the Shadow King opened his eyes the maiden was kneeling over him. He felt nothing for her. “Take my gift.” She told him, laying her hand on his forehead. “Keep me in your heart; I will wait for you again. We aren’t through.” Alith Anar gasped at the touch. It rekindled for a moment the feelings towards her before they fell away, making his limbs feel lighter. She stood and smiled. “Every black knight needs his steed.” Then her aura dimmed, and she disappeared.

Alith Anar stood up. Something was building inside of him, light and fast. It was her gift, and he laughed as it overtook him. The darkness drained away as he melted into it and rocketed upwards, through the vent he had detected earlier. He ascended through the shaft rapidly, lost in the shadows. He would reach the top of the mountain soon, he could feel it. The shaft opened up into the largest chamber he had seen yet, and he began to feel heavy again. He was pulled down before he could get a look at the chamber, the rush of the wind dying down until his armored feet touched ground again and he materialized from the shadows.

“I was getting bored.” A monster crouched in front of Alith Anar. Its skin was bright yellow and its hair was red. To Alith Anar it appeared like a young girl, she was naked though she lacked real definition. A pair of wings were folded behind her back and she peered at him with slit eyes. “I hope you had fun with the others. I didn’t. You’ve kept me waiting. Do you have it?” She was deadpanning, barely using enough breath to spit out the sentences.

“Have what?” Alith Anar asked. He folded his arms over his chest and regarded the girl with a smirk. She hopped forward, fluttering her wings to cover the distance between her and the Shadow King. She looked him up and down, not bothering to reply.

“This.” Her claw shot out before Alith Anar could respond and snatched the leather bag from his waist. The Shadow King stepped forward, reaching for what was stolen. The girl just giggled and hopped back.

“Give it back!” Alith Anar shouted. His voice echoed. The girl tumbled the Eye of Sheerian out of his bag and rolled it between her hands.

“Ohhh…It’s warm…” She cooed. “This is much more interesting that you. Did you know it fell from the sky? An eye from the sky. Hee. It rhymes.” Alith Anar waited, letting her play with the gem. She sighed and her face fell. “But it’s too perfect. No flaws. Just like the others.” With barely a shrug of her shoulders she tossed the Eye off of the ledge.

“What have you done?” Alith Anar shouted as he ran to the ledge and peered over it. “Oh no…” Below him was a sea of amber, a million gems each resembling the Eye of Sheerian.

“Do you like them?” The girl asked, leaning into Alith Anar. “I collect them. I have lots.” Her face fell as she looked at the Shadow King. “Oh. Was that one special to you? I don’t see why…” She shrugged and stepped back. “You could go find it, I guess. I don’t mind if you look through my collection, but if you take the one that wasn’t yours…Well, I can’t let you steal from me.” She sat on her haunches and waited for Alith Anar to reply.

“I have had enough of tricks.” He seethed, clenching his fists. “That’s all I’ve been subjected to since I set foot in his mountain.”

The girl shrugged. “Our gifts, Shadow King.”

Alith Anar nodded. “More strings.” And then he leapt into the pit. He landed among the gems, which rang as they struck each other. “How do I even tell the difference?” He wondered aloud as he picked up one of the gems. It was cold. “If that’s the only clue…” The Shadow King looked over the amber waves of gems. “I will be here forever…” He set about sifting through them, trying to find the true Eye of Sheerian.

Alith Anar searched for as long as his mind could bear it. He had lost track of where he started and erased all the time he had consumed for his search. “The gods cannot value something so meticulous…” He reasoned as he once again looked over the vast treasure. He waded through the gems. In the time he had spent looking for his Eye he had come to despise the sound of his armor as it struck the gems. “The gem is mine.” He continued. “Even if she touched it, it was given to me…For my sight.” The Shadow King settled down, resting for a moment. He closed his eyes. “The Eye cannot be blind…”

Alith Anar returned to the hut where he had first found the eye. He returned to the earlier chamber of the winds where it had given him warmth. Of all of his gifts it was the only one given freely, the only one that truly belonged to him. “Show me what I cannot see.” He murmured. “As before.” The Shadow King felt himself detach from his body, but he wouldn’t pass out this time. He opened his eyes.

The edges of his vision burned with multi-colored fire. Everything was out of focus, and he had to will the picture to come. It was a dark room hewn from black stone. He recognized it. Malekith sat upon his throne with his mother at his side. The fire around Alith Anar’s vision intensified as hatred overtook him. Morathi narrowed her eyes, peering towards him before the pictured clouded over and he moved somewhere else. It was dark and twisted beasts ran through earthen tunnels. Rats, millions of them. Their cities glowed green. His vision unfocused, and he was in the wasted lands. A desert as far as the eye could see. Dying men toiled under the gaze of withered priests. Then they were gone with the rest and Alith Anar returned to the mountain. He looked into his own face, the scars from his battle with the winds healed over. He saw himself smile, and then the fire faded and he returned to his normal vision.

Alith Anar bent over and picked up the Eye of Sheerian. It was warm. He smiled, looking the flawless gem over. The girl’s membranous wings fluttered and she landed beside him. “The Eye is the key.” She told him before pointing at a door set in the wall. “Well done. I didn’t think you could do it, but the Eye likes you. Go.”

The Shadow King smirked at the girl and turned for the door. He was stopped as she reached out and took his left hand. “Wait.” She told him. “Not yet.” Alith Anar knit his brow towards her before a searing pain was burned into his hand. His eyes widened and fought back the urge to scream. “There.” She told him as she removed her hand. The Shadow King held it up to his face. An eight pointed star glowed like a fire on the back of his hand. “You can wield power from the shadows, but you can only lead when you are visible. Now all shall know your devotion and that you are favored. When they doubt you, show them this Mark. They will fear you.” She fluttered away.

The door opened to a long staircase that led up to the peak of the mountain. It was lined with torches. Alith Anar didn’t hesitate to climb it. The pain in his hand was beginning to subside, but the mark burned as furiously as before. It glowed with its own light. His whole body was tingling; he could feel currents in the air that he hadn’t noticed before. Colors sometimes jumped out of the corner of his vision as he climbed the stairs. There was a new pulse that pounded in his ears. The mountain wasn’t changing as he ascended. He became aware of its stability as the new sensations flooded his mind. By the time he reached the peak the entire world glowed with colors he had never perceived, each pulsing to its own rhythm. He wondered how he got on before.

Alith Anar entered the throne room. Where the rest of the mountain had been rough stone this chamber had received an artisan’s touch. The ceiling was vaulted with heavy rock supports that seemed to hold up the mountain itself. The emblems of Chaos were everywhere apparent. The throne was part of the wall itself, and it was occupied. A barbarian in red armor with blonde hair lounged in the stone chair, a knife in his hands.

“Your weight has changed since last we spoke, Alith Anar.” The barbarian said. He spoke in normal tones but the hall amplified them. “This blade has not changed. I have kept it with me, to remind me of you. But how could I forget? You have moved swiftly across my domains and delivered to me many skulls. The blood weight you have acquired…It is considerable, but of little note in the wider world.” The barbarian jammed the dagger into the arm of the throne. “I don’t care how many of my people you sent to their graves. They were nothing. You are tired of tricks.”

Alith Anar nodded as he approached the thrones. “Nothing but tricks since I stepped into this mountain.”

“I agree.” The barbarian replied. “I have never had a penchant for them, so this will be simple. Any elf with a rusty blade can kill a human if the time is right. A band of elves with arrows can slaughter hundreds without shedding a single drop of their blood. It proves nothing. You have proven nothing to me. Survive, and you may proceed. That is all.”

Alith Anar narrowed his eyes and reached for the sword on his back. He heard a hissing sound behind him and turned. Blocking the exit was a daemon, a thin creature made up of spines and teeth. It towered over the entrance, though it didn’t approach the vaulted ceiling.

“U’zuhl.” The barbarian spoke the daemon’s name. “Kill him.”

The daemon screeched and launched itself forward, swiping at Alith Anar with its claws. The Shadow King jumped back, feeling as light as ever. He unsheathed is sword and prepared to meet the daemon. U’zuhl lashed out again and Alith Anar jabbed at his hand. The blade stuck but caused U’zuhl no pain. The daemon reached out with his other claw and wrapped it around the elf warrior. Alith Anar grit his teeth as he was hoisted into the air. He managed to pull his sword free and drove it into U’zuhl’s wrist even as the daemon began to apply pressure in an attempt to crush the life out of Alith Anar. His armor creaked in the daemon’s grasp but held, though Alith Anar knew he could not last long. He began to yell as the air was forced out of his lungs. “You…cannot…hold me…” The Shadow King gasped. He recalled the winds, and soon the daemon’s pressure disappeared.

Alith Anar flowed out of the daemon’s claw on the wind and the shadow, returning to the floor of the throne room. He exhaled, noting that his ribs still burned from the attack. U’zuhl howled in rage and charged the Shadow King. Alith Anar tucked his shoulder and rolled out of the way, letting the daemon smash itself against the wall. He watched it fall to the ground and then scramble to its feet. The Shadow King took time to focus, steadying his breathing and ignoring the pain. The colors he had noticed before returned to his vision and the daemon glowed the brightest of all. Threads of light radiated from U’zuhl, connecting the daemon to something the Shadow King couldn’t see. The threads began to throb, as if feeding the creature. Alith Anar charged, summoning the speed he had used to free himself from the daemon’s grasp to close the distance and strike at the spots where it was connected to the other world. U’zuhl howled in rage as Alith Anar plunged his blade into one of the bright spots before swatting the elf away.

Alith Anar struck the floor of the throne room with a metallic bang. He had kept his sword in his hand was quick to get back on his feet. U’zuhl turned and ran his tongue over his teeth as he sized up his elven opponent. His side bled where Alith Anar had struck him. He could be wounded with a mortal blade, but the daemon was too fast to allow fatal damage to be done to him. Already Alith Anar could see the daemon’s hide begin to repair itself. The Shadow King didn’t think he could pull of the same trick. He had to go toe-to-toe with the daemon and win, something the light and fast Alith Anar wasn’t confident that he could do with the daemon’s speed. Almost without thinking it the elf’s hand strayed down to the pouch at his waist and his fingers touched the Eye of Sheerian. He needed to know more. His fingers closed around the orb and he pulled it out, allowing the Eye to see. He say U’zuhl lurch forward and readied his guard before he saw the image separate from the daemon’s body, who just a moment behind it. It was enough time for Alith Anar to step off to the side and strike at another weak point. U’zuhl howled.

The two clashed again and again now that Alith Anar was armed for the fight. Even with the Eye of Sheerian’s prophetic gaze the daemon’s claws found a hold in his armor and tore it apart. Blood flowed freely from both warriors. For the Shadow King the disparate effects of his gifts began to merge together in the forge of combat until he no longer took special notice of the colors or the subtle images that betrayed U’zuhl’s motions before he made them. He was light on his feet without actively summoning his speed. Everything came together, and that was why he defeated the daemon as he plunged his sword into its chest, eliciting a last howl. U’zuhl collapsed onto the blood slicked floor and began to unravel, his time on this plane finished.

The barbarian applauded. Slowly. “Well done. He was one of my best, and now I give him to you. Pull your sword from his body.”

Alith Anar gripped the hilt of his sword and began to pull it free. U’zuhl howled in rage. Alith Anar watched as the threads which had been dissipated bound themselves to his sword, and the daemon with them. The daemon began to whimper as it was dragged into the steel, it eyes wide as it perceived the real world for the last time before being imprisoned forever. When the sword was free, there was no U’zuhl left except for the face that was contorted in rage on the blade’s surface.

“Say his name. He won’t fight for you, but his rage means that he will fight.” The barbarian told Alith Anar before standing from the throne. He eyed the knife. “I don’t think you need this any more. You are ready. Go.” The barbarian pulled the dagger from the arm of the throne and began to walk away. The throne cracked, and then collapsed. Another passageway led up. A cool breeze filtered down through it. The Shadow King sheathed his sword and started forward. His armor was broken and he bled freely, but the pain was gone. His heart swelled and he couldn’t help but smile.

The wolf snarled at Alith Anar as the elf stepped onto the snow at the top of the peak. The Shadow King stopped and eyed his companion, though his new sight revealed nothing out of the ordinary. “I hope I haven’t kept you.” He said to the wolf. His voice radiated calm.

“Your hand burns with their mark…” The wolf looked down at his own paws. “I hate you, elf. You were supposed to die. Now…now…” The wolf’s fangs knit together and he growled. “Now you make me do this! I hate you!”

“They never once called me the Everchosen.” Alith Anar replied, his voice unchanged. “Not once.”

“The Eye, the Sword, the Mark, the Armor, the Steed…None of that makes you the Everchosen.” The wolf seethed. “Not even close.”

“Then finish it.”

The wolf tilted his head back and howled. Its grey fur began to turn black and grow longer until it merged together to form a shadow. It continued to howl until it was overtaken by darkness and only the golden eyes remained. The shadow billowed out and the eyes rose into the sky until they loomed over Alith Anar. “You will understand.” It spoke to Alith Anar. “Some day you will understand what it means to touch this thing twice…” It formed a pair of claws and held them together, then drew them apart. A black circlet was suspended between them. Alith Anar recognized it as the crown he had worn in his court at Nagarythe, but it was not the same. He could feel the power radiating from this crown; his new vision was almost blinded by it. His shadow crown was nothing to this black monster. He understood what the wolf meant; the other treasures he carried meant nothing when compared to this elegant circlet. Alith Anar noticed the wolf’s eyes focused on it. He frowned.

“Crown me.”

“Never!” The wolf howled, his hands shaking. “Give me another moment…I want to savor it...”

“Crown me now! You can savor it all you want when it rests on my head.”

Reluctantly the shadow leaned forward, inching closer to Alith Anar’s head. For a moment their eyes locked and the shadow fought for the crown. Alith Anar had only to narrow his eyes for the shadow to know that it was beaten. Slowly but firmly it set the Crown of Domination on the Shadow King’s head, and erased that title forever.

The Everchosen gasped as the power flowed through him. The unifying affect of the battle against U’zuhl was forgotten in an instant by the influence of the crown. Thunder rolled in the skies and the mountain’s shook. From he heavens the robed figure, the maiden, the girl and the barbarian looked upon Alith Anar and nodded their heads yes. The ground trembled where he stood and the snow melted from his presence. The shadow shrank away; overawed by the being he had created. It curled up on the side of the mountain. When it was finished Alith Anar exhaled and without thinking it raised the Eye of Sheerian to his brow and locked it into the crown. He could see for miles. His host below him was just a speck on the vast expanse of the world. He heard every heart that beat across the Wastes and beyond. The weak ones were pushed aside and forgotten. To the strong he sent his image, calling them to his service. A million possibilities for the future unfolded as the Eye of Sheerian glowed. Alith Anar could grin, he was confident in each one. “Everyone will soon hear my name.” He declared from the top of the mountain. “When Chaos wields justice in its right had and retribution in its left while Order harbors evil and weakness this world will fall.” The Everchosen pronounced his death sentence before striding forward. “Join me, wolf. I will have need of you yet. We will have need of many. They will be the first to hear the call.”

The shadow, reduced to a wolf who could no longer call his companion an equal rose from the rocks and began to follow Alith Anar.

In the sky above the red comet flashed gold. Its tail split, and it soared over the world.