Pirate King

The large warship glided through space, on a quest its crew was hoping to keep the authorities from noticing for as long as possible. It was a bulky ship, the front of it made to look like an angry demon's face, an orange glow emanating from its mouth. Its mustache and eyebrows were thick, like thunderclouds. It was known as the Mad Morgan, and was the ship flown by a band of space pirates quite infamous to the Marshalship.

Zemar's pirates were a growing terror to several dimensions, though their threat was quickly being overshadowed by that of Reven's forces. They didn't mind. Let the Space Lord stretch out the Marshalship's forces. Let them become weary. That would make their activities all the easier.
Of course, that wouldn't much help them with their current task. And they were getting impatient.

Seth slammed his fist down on the arm of the captain's seat. His wide mouth was twisted into a scowl, his sharp teeth glinting, his beady red eyes focused in rage. Seth was a tall, slim but muscled humanoid, standing at about eleven feet tall. His skin was yellow, with black striped patterns all down his back, his spine protruding up through his skin in sturdy spikes. His arms and legs were long, his legs contributing to much of his height. He was dressed in a skin-tight black outfit, black pants over the bottom portion of it. He was Zemar's first mate.

"Where the hell did the station go!?" He yelled, glaring around at the assorted crew.

Cor was staring at him intensely, teeth gritting. The draconic humanoid was a few inches shorter than Seth, but made up for it in muscle mass. Several horns protruded from his snout and head, and smaller spikes lined his arms and tail. He wore only a pair of baggy brown pants, always having been uncomfortable with shirts. The materials he needed for clothing were always very expensive regardless.

At Cor's side was a small human girl, with long brown hair and wearing a red t-shirt and blue pants. Her name was Lila, and she was peering at Seth with a sad expression on her face.

On the other side of the bridge stood Esperenza, a cloaked figure with bright, glowing green almond shaped eyes. They brightened with delight as Seth looked at her, wispy green mist constantly flowing out from where her feet would be.

And finally there was the impish Doctor Gavilvax, a creature that looked like a mix of a kangaroo, an owl and a rat. He stood at three feet tall, his large and hairy ears twitching this way and that, his large eyes staring fearfully at Seth through his circular glasses, his pink hands clutching at a clipboard held in front of him as his long rat-like tail twitched around nervously.

Seth narrowed his eyes at the doctor, who squeaked. "W-well it wasn't ME! I-I-I've b-been FAR too b-b-b-BUSY to keep track of some sp-sp-space station! You h-have me cataloging all that information on the M-M-Marshalship, I can't do both at once!"

Seth inclined his head, regarding the doctor. "You're a genius, you're saying you can't multitask?"

Gavilvax became indignant at this, putting his hands on his hips, clipboard still in one hand. "Now see HERE! I surely can, but the compilation of all this information is very complicated! They keep all of this EXTREMELY secure, and so far all that we've gathered are tiny bits of an extremely large and complex puzzle!"

"It's too slow," Seth replied, leaning back in the chair. "The captain could be executed soon." He scratched his chin idly, glancing at the others in turn.

"You seem bored, my darling. Are you bored?" Esperenza tilted her head, her eyes inquisitive.

"I'm getting there," Seth said. He peered at the viewport, out into space. "Space is boring, y'know? Be out here too long. All this nothing. I kinda feel like lighting it up, but I know that wouldn't be the best idea right now. We might need to sneak. But with more force. Information sometimes flows quicker with force."

"Interrogation," Lila stated.

Seth nodded. "It'll put us on their radar again. But let's kidnap a marshal." He grinned, his teeth shining like a new set of knives.

The dimly lit arena expanded in blackness all around the center, where Zemar stood, facing five skeletons sitting on high thrones. The skeletons were elaborately decorated with feathers and silks, and they stared at Zemar, unblinking and, truly, unseeing. But they knew he was there. They were the Tzitzimimmeh, the five dead women who ruled the nation of Torre. Zemar simply stood there, waiting for whatever the corpses had to say.

"You went too far, Zemar," the one called Eloxochitl said. Her voice sounded, but her skeletal mouth was unmoving. This was how all of the five women talked. "You caused many fatalities. Our people took shelter as instructed, and you destroyed their shelters."

"It couldn't be helped," Zemar said, frowning. "Our enemies were using powerful magic against us. They were invisible, I needed to bring them out. Had the Watcher not come, you would have seen that it would not have been for naught."

"And now these powerful enemies are gone," said the one called Omecihuatl. "And they know we do not welcome them, and they will use their powerful magic against us."

Zemar laughed. "Don't worry yourselves. I won't let it happen. If they come back, that'll be exactly what I want. I'll keep some eyes on your nation, don't you worry about that, ladies. But I've my own business to attend to now. Calm down your people."
"Zemar!" Said another, Ilancueitl. "We are NOT done here! You must speak to our people! Explain yourself!"

Zemar's voice grew dangerous. "No, there is nothing I -must- do. Not for you five. You cowering corpses. You do NOT tell me what I must do! I tell you what must be done, and you obey me. Don't forget who gave you your power." He pointed at them. "And never forget who holds a valid successor to the throne. Should you force my hand, I will not only take away your power. I will kill your representative and place Servana in her place."

They were silent. And then, "Yes, my lord."

Zemar smiled, and turned away. As he left, the torches that were lit in his presence dimmed, leaving the Tzitzimimmeh in darkness. They welcomed the illusion of death that it brought, and contemplated what had come to pass. For all the power they had been given, in the end they were merely five skeletal puppets for the pirate king to amuse himself with. But their time would come. They had eternity for an opportunity to present itself.

"You idiot," she said, standing behind him, hands clenched into fists at her sides. "Damn you. You brought this on us. Your endless thirst for power, for domination. Are you happy now? You have gained it all, only for it to come crashing down on top of us."

Zemar growled, spinning around and slapping her on the face. She made no sound as her head jerked to the side from the sudden blow, her eyes moving back to look at his. Those red eyes, with that small black pupil, characteristic of all djinn. It burned with fury.

She spoke again.

"Then I will put you down myself, my love."

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Zemar stood on the deck of his ship, mind lost in eons past. The ship cut through the fog and the water, the fog itself nearly as thick as the deep blue water surrounding them. His men were hard at work getting the ship through this, while his daughters lounged about the ship, unconcerned with the weather.

His mind was snatched from all those billions of years ago, as a haunting melody filled the air. It came from just ahead, and Zemar recognized it well. It was the song of sirens, one of which numbered among his wives, the mother of one of his seven daughters. It was their sign that they had returned to their home, to friendlier waters. Friendly to them, at least.

The fog parted as the lone rock appeared ahead, jutting out of the ocean waters. Sitting on the rock were four figures, feminine in shape and beautiful in sound. Long, feathered wings stretched from their backs, their wispy clothing flowing down their forms like fog itself. The topmost one had long black hair and light brown wings, and she smiled and stood up as Zemar's ship approached. The pirate king walked up to the prow of the ship, kneeling down to take her hand as they passed.

She fluttered her wings, alighting on the deck of the ship, and embraced him. He kissed her forehead, and they looked at each other.

"You return at last, Zemar," she said, her voice melodic. "How was your quest? Does my daughter return safely?"

"She does, aye," Zemar replied, his voice deep and harsh. "Clethia did well, but I underestimated the wiles of our foes, and they slipped out of my grasp in part due to the timely arrival of an accursed Watcher. Did it come by here?"

"It appears to have missed us this time," Freath replied, her wings folding back behind her.

"Good," he said, taking her hands gently in his own rough, clawed hands. "I continue to the fortress. Grace me with your company, my wife."

"I will," she said. "But what will you do now?"

"I will prepare. Powerful friends are on their way to this world, and I must make ready for them. And I must make ready for powerful enemies, as well. I intend to give one final show to this prison."

The large tent was dimly lit, the only source of light coming from a jar near the middle of the room. In this jar was a creature known as a fairy. This fairy was a slim little creature, with fair skin, long ears that pointed out to the side and long brown hair, delicate dragonfly wings. She was wearing a skirt of grass and a top of intertwined reeds. Her name was Smallwing, and she was staring intently at her captor's guests.

Zemar sat at the front, facing her captor. Zemar was an imposing figure, eight feet tall when he was on his feet and well muscled, with blue skin. He had long black hair with several strands braided together, with a full black beard, his thick mustache threaded through several gold rings. Several small silver rings were pierced through his right eyebrow, and several gold earrings were pierced through both of his long, tufted ears. Red eyes with small black pupils sized up the room and his host, and he wore a blood red trenchcoat over a white vest and black cotton pants. Several blue horns stuck up through his hair around the top of his head, and a long tail curled around from the back of his chair to the bottom of the front, swaying slightly. He wore no shoes, his clawed feet resting comfortably on the carpeted floor.

Directly behind him stood a woman with long, thick black hair. This was Benti, the first of Zemar's seven daughters. Her red eyes were narrowed, scrutinizing Smallwing's captor. Her skin was a faded blue color, clad in furs and leathers. She lacked the horns of her father, being part djinn and part human lycanthrope, small pointed ears poking out the side of her hair. She had long and sharpened nails, her bare feet those of a normal human's. Her build was strong, remniscient of the women of the harsh northern lands of Lerenalai.

To Benti's left stood Servana, a woman with dusky blue skin and short black hair framing her face, pointed ears sticking out a bit from the sides of her head. She was another of Zemar's daughters, being half djinn and half human. She wore little besides an animal skin across her chest, and another hide around her waist. Bladed bangles were visible on her arms, wrists, ankles and calves, said to serve her well in the martial arts skills she possessed. Her red eyes wandered with deliberate movements, eyeing Smallwing's captor and the rest of the tent.

Behind and to the left of Servana stood another of Zemar's daughters, a half-siren half-djinn named Clethia. She had skin of azure, with beautiful white feathers decorating her head instead of hair, flowing down to the small of her back. On what skin was not covered by a wispy light blue dress could be seen beautiful patterns of down, her red eyes half-lidded as if she were bored and impatient, not focusing on the man they were meeting with. Something about her seemed as if she was not entirely here, as if she was only a guest in the physical world.

Behind and to the left of Clethia stood Izdi, half-djinn and half-faun. Her skin was dark blue, two small blue horns sticking out of the top of her curly black hair which fell down to her shoulders. Her pointed ears were a little wider, and her red eyes peered around the room curiously. Her more "human" features ended at her waist, as Izdi had the bottom half of a bi-pedal goat, black fur covering this half, a short tail on her backside. Because of this fur she required no clothing on her bottom half, the only article of clothing she did wear being a light green silk top covering her chest. Around her neck she wore a necklace with a flute made of bamboo hanging from it, the flute being decorated with a myriad of vine and leaf patterns.

The last of the left vanguard consisted of Suhayla, a slender woman with light blue skin. Though she was half-djinn and half-mermaid she currently had a pair of legs, being able to switch between the two at will. Long silky black hair flowed down her back past the small, a few strands falling over the left side of her face. Radiant red eyes looked at Smallwing, curious at the tiny creature. She was the only one of the sisters who had rounded ears, a pearl earring in each one. She wore a dark green bikini top, and a loose fitting green skirt with a coral pattern, slits up the side. She wore gold bracelets around her wrists, though they were not bladed like Servana's.

To Benti's right stood another of Zemar's daughters, a particularly shapely woman with long straight black hair that reached the small of her back. She was half-djinn and half-elf, but she looked the most djinn-like out of all of them. She was Akeelah, with four slightly curved blue horns peeked out from the top of her hair, red eyes peering at Smallwing's captor undaunted and accompanied by a wide smile, wearing dark purple lipstick. Her skin was an even blue color and she wore a black and red corset with loose fitting blue cloth pants, a long slender tail sticking out the back of her pants and waving back and forth slowly. She wore several rings on her hands, as well as bracelets and a couple of small diamond earrings. A gold necklace hung around her neck, the violet pearl at the end hanging down between the very top of her breasts.

And finally, the last of Zemar's daughters stood to Akeelah's right. A beautiful woman with bronze skin and slinky blue curly hair. From her hips down was the body of a snake, her scales a beautiful rainbow of shades of teal and blue. This was Tuia, half-djinn and half-naga. Her red eyes looked directly at their host's face, arms folded over the bronze chainmail top she wore, hanging down just above her bellybutton.

And the man they were meeting, Smallwing's captor. He was one of the most dangerous men in the world, though Zemar still outshone him there. He was also one of the most unknown men in the world, leader of the Cult of the Dark Cacophony, dedicated to the Watchers. A human, his real name was known by few, called Bal'kamur by those who knew of him, a djinn name meaning "Light Render". His cult was a group of monsters hated even by the djinn. Zemar himself considered him cruel beyond redemption. He was dressed in black plate armor, cruel twisted spikes lining his bracers, shoulderpads, and helmet. His face was not visible through the helmet, a large living eye set in the center of it, the eye said to be able to see Watchers approaching Origold from the depths of space. It surveyed Bal'kamur's guests, hands resting comfortably on the arms of his ornate wooden chair, decorated with images of grotesquely shaped shadows.

"So," Bal'kamur said, his voice coming out harsh through the helmet. "Why are you here, Pirate King?"

Zemar grinned, nodding in acknowledgement of his title. "I'm needin' to ask a favor o' ye, Bal'kamur. Aye, I realize how that might sound, considerin' our...'fond' feelins for each other."

Bal'kamur nodded, gesturing for Zemar to continue.

"I would like to awaken Malgo." Zemar looked intently at Bal'kamur, observing his reaction.

Bal'kamur was silent for a few moments, then,"No. I have nothing to gain from that."

Zemar frowned. He was afraid Bal'kamur would realize that. It was true.

"Ye realize, of course," Zemar began,"That the item ye have was the property of my people in the first place. I would be much obliged if ye returned it without difficulty."

"Malgo can withstand the shadows of the Watchers," Bal'kamur replied, a displeased tone in his voice. "He is a bringer of light, and though his legs are shrouded in darkness, he wades through it as if it were but mere water. He offends my organization and would thwart our ultimate goal."

"Yet you'd need to deal with him eventually," Zemar countered.

"And we will. On our terms. He will stay in his slumber, and we will kill him."

Akeelah snickered. Bal'kamur's eye centered on her, and he tilted his head slightly.

"Miss?" He queried.

She grinned, showing her fangs. "You're scared. I can't believe it. You're actually -scared-! The great Light Render is scared! This is fantastic! To think that there's something -we- can do to scare you!"

Bal'kamur looked to Zemar, expecting him to admonish her for her words. Instead, he laughed.

"Aye, darling!" Zemar agreed, smirking. "It seems we misjudged the man!"

"I know what you are doing," Bal'kamur said, gripping the arms of his chair. "It will not work. I will not give what you seek to disprove such a ridiculous claim."

Zemar rose from his chair, shaking his head. "Ye misjudge us as we misjudged you, Bal'kamur. Ye see, before now, ye might say I thought o' ya as...one of the greats. Aye, I've always hated your wretched guts. But ye still added spice to this world. One of the unmoveable threats, the types that really keep the people o' this world occupied."

The pirate king turned to leave, but paused. All of his daughters were looking straight at Bal'kamur now, and all of their eyes were either condemning or mocking.

"But the words spoken tonight, by both you and my daughter...somethin' occured to me. Ye aint worried that ye have nothin' to gain. No, your worry is that you have somethin' to -lose-. To now, things have been easy for you. You hide in the night, striking at villagers and running away. Ye keep hidden, avoidin' the retribution of the armies of nations.

"Yet when a -true- challenge rears its head, when hiding and letting your precious Watchers clean up for ye aint a possibility...ye quake." Zemar glanced back at the dark warrior. "You, sir, are nothin' but a slaughterer of cattle. Run and hide, run and hide, because the time has come to crush you. And it will be me that does it, not Malgo."

"Your bluff is obvious, Zemar," Bal'kamur replied, remaining seated in his chair. "I am the only one that can bring you what you desire. I am your key to waking Malgo."

Zemar laughed again, a genuine laugh of mirth. "Haven't ye heard, Bal'kamur? I am leaving this world, I am no longer interested in any goals I might have had here. This war I have started? The flames that consume the coasts of every nation on this world? They are a final amusement before I leave. Malgo? A bonus. I lose nothing if I lose the way to wake him. I ruled this entire world once, Bal'kamur, and now as I leave I mean to remind it of my influence. Enjoy your fancy tent, sir. I will return shortly."

Zemar left, his daughters leaving behind him. Bal'kamur remained in his seat, armored hands digging into the arms of his chair. The entire room flickered with the shifting light of the panicked Smallwing. Malgo? Zemar would go that far? How bad did he hope for this war to get? The fairy rammed uselessly against the side of her jar, hoping in vain to break out and warn Death of the immense danger that was on the horizon.

Several million years ago...

His wife, Rahna was an extraordinary example of a female djinn. Dark blue skin, long straight midnight black hair, and striking red eyes glared at Zemar. Three slender horns curved back from her forehead, long ears on either side of her head lined with several small silver earrings. She was dressed in a slim black plate cuirass lined with red, sleeves of a silver hauberk covering her arms, black fingerless gauntlets covering her hands and exposing her claws. She wore a black and red armoured kilt, wearing no shoes, her clawed toes digging into the ground. Her tail swayed behind her, occasionally twitching, reminding Zemar of a living whip.

She charged, dashing towards him alarmingly fast. Zemar teleported behind her, bringing his hand around to slam into the back of her head, only to have her teleport in turn, appearing in the air behind him and slamming her foot into the back of his head, sending him face first into the ground, sliding ahead a few feet.

He growled, turning incorporeal as she came down with her fist, swinging straight through him and punching the ground, a few cracks appearing in it around her fist. She frowned, and opened her fist into a palm, magical energy crackling around it as she pulled what appeared to be a large, exaggerated shamshir from the land itself, bringing it up and holding it before her with both hands.

This was Vel Kulast, the Blood of the Dragons, the sword that Rahna alone could summon to her side in battle. It was said to come from the twin sons of Zaea herself, making it one of the most powerful swords in the world. The blade was made to look like the wing of a dragon, curving out to end in a jagged spike in several places, that entire edge of the blade sharpened. The 'bone' of the wing was colored dark red, the space between that black steel.

She turned her head to glare at him, whipping her tail in the air once before charging at him once more, disappearing and then appearing behind him, swinging the sword through empty air as he in turn disappeared, appearing in the air above. She followed, and the married couple continued their erratic dance, appearing and disappearing repeatedly as they attempted to land blows on each other, scoring a few and missing a few.

Eventually they both appeared again on the ground, crouching down and looking at each other across the rocky field. Rahna glared at him while Zemar grinned at her, both of them breathing heavily. Once again she got to her feet and mock charged, bringing her sword down and slicing across the ground. The slice continued as she brought her sword back up into the air, jagged rocks jutting up from the ground in a straight line heading for Zemar, Rahna dashing beside them. She disappeared just as the line of jagged rocks reached Zemar, the male djinn disappearing and reappearing right where Rahna was. She had read him correctly, and brought her elbow down hard on the back of his neck as she began to fall, unable to stay airborne as Zemar was. Zemar gasped, lurching forward in the air as Rahna fell, landing hard on the ground with a thud, yet landing on her feet all the same.

She looked up to see Zemar point his palm downward at her, and there was a ripple in the air as a blast of air slammed her into the ground, the solid earth cracking around her. More blasts of air followed that up, keeping her on the ground. She gritted her teeth and gripped the earth, digging her claws in and causing a wall of rock to erupt from the ground around her, the blasts of air slamming against it instead of her.

Zemar continued sending his blasts of air to chip away at the shield. She couldn't hold it forever, not against him, and it wasn't in her nature to. She would face him, not hide from him. With that in his mind he widened his eyes, reacting to a sudden feeling and whirling around to slam his fist into the stomach of his wife who had appeared once more in the air behind him. His physical strength just as strong as his magical strength, the armor mattered little, and she gasped as the air was forced out of her lungs, doubling over as she once more fell towards the ground. Zemar caught her however, and threw her up a few feet, before rising up himself and bringing both his fits down onto the top of her head. She plummeted to the ground, smashing into it, and Zemar folded his arms as he grinned once more.

"Given up yet, love?" He queried.

She got to her knees, clenching her claws into fists as she glared up at him once more. There was a rumbling in the ground as she pulled herself to her feet, clutching her sword in her hands before her.

"This madness will not end until one or both of us have died," Rahna declared. "I will see to it that it only requires one of us."

The ground split apart, its depths glowing red with fury to match Rahna's. Zemar frowned, a sad look in his eyes as storm clouds gathered above him, rumbling with thunder.

"So be it," he replied.

The elements clashed.

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Present day...

Zemar stood at the hilltop, looking down upon the cult's encampment. They had assembled, taking up weapons and armor to face the forces he had promised. Bal'kamur was among them. Zemar was impressed, he had not expected the cultists to stay to fight. Perhaps he had stirred something within their leader with his words, or perhaps he had been wrong with his final judgement of him. Despite this surprise Zemar had given his word, and so a battle there would be. His men were assembled, and Zemar stood in plain sight at the top of the hill. The cultists knew he was there, and likely thought it was strange a man of his reputation would show himself so plainly. Obviously, it was a trap. The Pirate King Zemar was not known to risk his own men in straightforward confrontations.

Zemar decided to begin the show. Storm clouds gathered above, churning and rumbling, the thunderhead forming into his face. It spoke.

"Bal'kamur!" It rumbled. "I give ye one final chance to hand forward what I seek. Bring me the Ashen Horn, and I will be merciful to ye and your people. Deny me and my full wrath will come down upon ye. Give me your response!"

Bal'kamur stepped forward, the eye of his helmet focused on Zemar.

"Zemar!" He yelled. "You misjudge us! We serve the eternal Watchers that know no fear. We will not give in to you! We will snuff you out as simply as we snuff out the lights of those who fear us! Bring your great wrath and you will see the fall of your reign over this world's oceans!"

"Very well! Then your fate is sealed!"

Lightning flashed, and there was a rumbling from the opposite side of the camp. The cult's forces scrambled to meet the source readily, already suspecting that Zemar's forces would try an attack from behind them. They waited, watching the forest that lay behind the camp. And then Zemar's forces came. A few among the cult cried out in shock as they saw the corpses charging out from the forest, and Bal'kamur cut down the nearest of those that had shown such fear.

"Cowards!" He yelled. "We serve those that transcend death! Meet them!"

He led the charge, and his men followed him. They crashed against the zombies, slicing and bashing them. But these proved sturdier than the average undead, their bodies continuing to move even as their heads were severed and smashed. Not only did they continue moving after being beheaded, they swung their weapons with deadly accuracy, striking back at the cultists. And then one of Bal'kamur's men called out.

"The vines! They're being controlled by the vines!"

Bal'kamur looked closer and saw that it was true. Vines were writhing throughout the rotted bodies of the corpses, pulsing and controlling their every movement. This wasn't necromancy! What magic was this?!

"Sever the vines!" He yelled. "Sever the damned vines!"

Zemar laughed from his vantage point of the battlefield. Izdi had done well. His daughter's flute had been remade since the Blaze of Glory's crew had destroyed it, and now she was using her power over plants to control corpses they had found in a nearby graveyard. He was proud of the myriad uses she had found for her magic. But now that they had figured it out, it was time to give his men some fun.

The storm clouds expanded to the left and right of the camp, signaling them to close in from both sides. And close in they did, his pirates charging into the sides of the cultists, closing them in, his daughters mixed in among them save for Izdi, who remained in the forest. Zemar's forces were an impressive mix, consisting of creatures such as ogres, humans, golems, elves, werewolves, sirens, satyr, goblins and others. And they had seen many battles before this one, outmatching the cultists who Zemar now perceived he was correct about. They had fought no battles before this save those against relatively defenseless villagers. They were reactionary, having no real plan outside of dealing with Zemar's forces as they came. And here was Zemar still, standing out in the open guiding his forces from the hilltop as not even Bal'kamur turned an eye to focus on him.

He was disappointed, actually. He had hoped finally wiping out the cult's main force would be more satisfying. He enjoyed using his powers, but did not use them when his men led by his daughters could do this so easily on their own. He didn't want to take any satisfaction, however little, away from them either. Was the feared Bal'kamur's power truly so insignificant when one of his precious Watchers wasn't around? Zemar had always assumed he could summon shadows of his own, but it appeared the only significant magic they held was to snuff out nonmagical lights to let the shadow of the Watchers in.

"Crush them," he ordered. The face in the storm clouds disappeared as Zemar turned from the battlefield, disgusted, to wait for the battle's only obvious conclusion.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Doctor Gavilvax blinked, turning in his chair to peer at the computer monitor. It had been doing an automated search of the Marshalship's dimensional catalogue for a while now, searching for the world that their captain had gone to. This beeping could only mean one thing. They had found it. They had finally found it.

He rushed to notify Seth.

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Zemar walked through the ruins of the cult's camp. The non combatants had obviously been sent away, but he couldn't figure out how they had gotten past his forces. He'd had a bird's eye view of the area, and had seen no sign of movement away from the camp. He didn't like it when trickery was used against him, and it made him wonder if the head he currently held in his hand was truly that of Bal'kamur's. No one had ever seen his true face, after all. He could have any number of stand ins.

And he had found no sign of the key to awakening Malgo. He heaved a heavy sigh, shaking his head and turning to Benti.

"We're leaving. I'm damned upset at this, and I need to calm my nerves."

Benti nodded, understanding. "I will tell the crew to prepare to set sail for Rahna's Domicile."

Zemar turned for one last look at the ruined camp, then dropped Bal'kamur's head and walked off.

A few miles away, a small light fluttered through the forest on a very important mission.

A stream of lava burst from the ground in a geyser of flame and heat, slamming into the newly summoned tornado, crackling with lightning. The tornado twisted and distorted, then dissipated, Zemar blasted out of it and falling towards the ground. Rahna teleported to his side as he fell and slammed her elbow into his stomach, following that with a kick to his side, sending him rocketing away to land on the ground with a skid.

A dome of earth burst from the ground surrounding Zemar, and Rahna buried the blade of her sword into the ground and held her palm out to it. Smoke rose from the dome and she closed her fist, collapsing it in on itself, lava bursting out of it.

Zemar burst from the rubble with a growl, his armor burning and lava dripping from his skin, though his skin remained intact. He slammed his fist into Rahna's face, then again, and several more times, forcing her back. Finally she ducked and dodged to the side, grabbing his head and picking him up by it. As she threw his tail wrapped around her arm, Zemar flipping in the air and taking her with him, slamming her into the ground. He raised his arms up and then brought them down quickly, a brutal gust of wind slamming into her, making an imprint in the ground around her body.

She reached for her sword, but Zemar made another gesture and another gust of wind blew it away, followed by an arc of lightning zapping Rahna. She screamed, and leapt to her feet, whirling around to face Zemar. The wind began to whip all around them as she advanced once more, slashing him across the face with her claws. He grabbed her wrist and she grabbed his, the two glaring at each other as they paused for a moment. They both squeezed, attempting to smash the other's wrist before their own gave.

The wind around them continued to pick up speed, Zemar finally becoming incorporeal and dodging back away from Rahna as a tornado formed around her, dragging her up into the air and tossing her around like a ragdoll. She tried to right herself or teleport away, but the force of the tornado kept whipping her around, disrupting her concentration. Zemar rose into the air and gathered more clouds, twisting them with a series of gestures and forming a hurricane. Rahna could only watch as his efforts came to fruition, and Zemar directed the full force of this new hurricane at her, blasting her out of the tornado and away.

Rahna growled, furious, as the wind blew her further and further away from Zemar. He then disappeared from view, and the last thing she knew was the feeling of being caught from behind and a sharp prick into the base of her neck.

All went black.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Zemar strode into the stone structure. It stood amidst a dense jungle, and was overgrown with its plants. His daughters and crew waited outside. None of them ever accompanied him into this place. It was for him alone, a place for him to relax and gather his thoughts as he reflected on deeds long passed but never forgotten. It was in truth a small structure, built to house only one thing.

The large lizards who guarded the chamber turned away obediently as he approached down the hall. Their tails whipped around, frustrated, as truly they sought to turn him to stone as was their function. Basilisks they were, and they were able to find few victims in this isolated place. The door slid open, allowing Zemar entry.

She lay on a stone table, peaceful in her slumber. Here rested Rahna, Zemar's first wife who had ruled Origold alongside him all those millenia ago. She had come to hate what he became, a cruel tyrannical king who desired only entertainment and power at the cost of others' lives. And so it had finally come to a fight between them as she sought to tear him down from his throne. But Zemar had anticipated this. You do not remain married as long as those two had been without learning to read your significant other very well.

He had enchanted a small dagger with a powerful sleeping spell. Unable to kill someone he loved, he had decided that he must instead force her to sleep for thousands of years. And now he was planning to leave Origold for good, and so it was time to say a final goodbye. He had thought of finally killing her, as he would not be returning to the planet anyway. But he couldn't bring himself to commit such an act. So she would remain here, trapped in her slumber.

He kneeled, and thought on all that he would soon leave behind. The king of pirates was calm and quiet as his men set all the shores of Origold ablaze.

His top commanders, unaware that their master was soon leaving, continued their search for the Key to Malgo.

And far above Origold, a ship appeared.

End.