Jeremiah’s Tale, part 4
A week later:
Jeremiah’s footsteps echoed through the cavernous chamber. Dim light shone from windows high above, at the base of the enormous dome that loomed far overhead. He eyed the shadows around the edges of the massive circular room, but could see nothing moving, even with mana-enhanced sight. The air was chill and absolutely still.
And yet, the marble floor was free of dust or debris, despite the centuries that had passed since the building had been abandoned.
The young man knew to be wary. He had, after all, just spent a week traveling through the Deadlands of central Windemer, making his way to their very center where the old, long-deserted capital city lay. He’d managed to avoid most of the many hazards that gave the Deadlands their name, and had dealt with the rest easily enough. Yet he suspected that the greatest dangers lay here, in the ruins around him.
Jeremiah had heard vague legends about this place. None of those legends had bothered to include a detailed description of the building’s layout, so he was uncertain of which way to go. The item that he sought could be hidden anywhere within.
Suddenly a voice boomed, “Who dares trespass in my domain?” It echoed around the room and off the dome above, so that Jeremiah had no hope of telling from which direction it came. The voice was cultured, commanding, and quite feminine.
“A seeker after knowledge,” Jeremiah answered. “Isn’t that what this place is for?”
Echoing laughter filled the great hall in response. Jeremiah peered into the darkness, seeking the source of the voice. His eyes could see nothing, but with his magical sight he could detect a faint disturbance in the ambient mana.
“It has been long since one of those crossed the threshold of this hall,” the voice said. “A thief is more likely, come to plunder the famed riches of the Silver Citadel. Isn’t that so?”
“Well, to be honest, there is also one item that I seek,” Jeremiah admitted. “Just that, and the knowledge to use it. For the rest I care nothing.”
“Is that so? One item, and you would leave behind the remainder of the greatest collection of magical artifacts ever collected?” The unseen woman gave a low chuckle. “I ought to kill you where you stand, thief.”
“You could try,” Jeremiah said. “You might even succeed. But at what cost? I am not without defenses. The battle could go to either of us. But I suspect that the victor would be so greatly wounded, and so drained of power, that either of us would be easy pickings for the other creatures that fill this city.”
“Oh, indeed?” The voice sounded amused.
“Yes. I felt them on my way in. Other things, waiting in the darkness. You’re strong, clearly strong enough to keep them at bay. But they would gladly consume you, given the chance. Isn’t that so, vampire?” He fixed his eyes on the wavering form that he could see in the mana. “Yes, I do see you, and I know what you are.”
“Oh, you are entertaining,” the voice crooned. “It might even be worth it to let you live. I’ve not had so enjoyable a conversation in centuries.”
She came out of the shadows then, walking slowly towards Jeremiah. She was slender, sharp-featured with high cheekbones, and with thick black hair that tumbled past her waist and set off her smooth alabaster skin. She wore a thin white gown that clung to her form, revealing more than it hid. Her eyes were large and dark and completely dead.
Jeremiah bowed. “My lady.”
“Courteous, too,” the woman crooned. “I feared that might have gone out of the world.” She stared at him, smiling softly. “It’s a good trick, you know.”
Jeremiah raised an eyebrow, and she laughed. “The disguise. Wrapping yourself in a cloak of dark mana so that you appear to be undead yourself. No doubt it fooled the lesser dead who crossed your path. Well done, thief.”
Jeremiah shrugged. “It didn’t fool you.”
“Little does,” the woman said. “I was a master of the Citadel for decades. And since the fall of Windemer I have had all the resources of the Citadel at my sole disposal. All the knowledge of the ancients is mine.”
“You hardly look old enough to have been a master for decades.”
She smiled back at Jeremiah. “Who wants to be old for all eternity? I have my vanity, after all. I had been using rejuvenating spells for many years, but I could tell that they would not be effective forever. I knew that one day they would fail, catastrophically. So before I became a vampire I used them one last time, so that I appear as I was at the age of thirty. It’s when I was most beautiful. So I was often told.”
“Beautiful but dead. Is it truly worth the price?”
“I have no regrets, mortal.”
“None?”
“When you are old and weak and weary of the world, it may not seem like such a high price to pay. Should you live long enough to find out.” She gave him a calculating stare. “Or perhaps you would like to find out now? I sense power in you, young mortal. It would be a shame to let it go to waste. You could join with me, and together we could rule the Deadlands. All would bow before us.”
Jeremiah laughed and shook his head. “I do not seek that kind of power. And I certainly do not care for the price. No, as I said, I came here for one item only. Once I have it I will go.”
“Indeed? And what item would that be?”
“A small orb. Small enough to fit in the palm of my hand. I’m told it’s blue, but glows with a purplish light.”
The vampire’s face lit up with delight. “A mind orb! Well, aren’t you the ambitious one. And what is it you plan to do with it?”
“I need to change someone’s mind.”
“Oh, mortal, I like you. Such reckless ambition! With a mind orb you could bend an entire province to your will!”
Jeremiah shook his head. “That’s not my plan. I need to control one person. There’s a certain tyrant who I wish to be… less tyrannical. Once that is done, I am through with it.”
“Oh, I see,” the vampire crooned. “You seek to use the dark arts to accomplish good, do you?”
He shrugged. “It’s very possible. Dark magic is merely a tool. What one does with it is what matters.”
The vampire chuckled. “So you believe, mortal. But it is harder than you know. Tell me, have you ever heard the story of Lord Stefan the Black?”
“Stefan the Black… Wasn’t he one of the lords of Old Windemer?”
"Oh, he was much more than that, my boy. In the old days, before Windemer fell, there were many royal orders, chartered by the kings and queens of Windemer over the centuries. This building housed one of them, the Order of the Silver Light, tasked with cataloging, preserving, and teaching all the knowledge of the world for the good of the realm. There were others: the Brotherhood of Swords, who combatted the kingdom’s enemies; the Company of Knight Protectors, who defended the common people of Windemer; the Deepwood Rangers, who guarded the wild frontiers of the realm; and many others, tasked with preserving all that was good and right in the world.
“And then there was Stefan the Black. He looked over all these royal orders, and saw the common flaw that they all shared. Do you know what that was, mortal?”
Jeremiah shook his head.
“It was this: that they all were committed to preserve the good only by doing good.”
“And how is that a problem?”
"Because those who would work evil have no such self-imposed limitations. They may use whatever means necessary to achieve their ends. While those who would work good chose only righteous means. And Stefan the Black saw this, and predicted that evil would therefore always triumph over good.
"And so he came to a decision. If the realm of Windemer was to be preserved, it needed an organization that did not place limits on how it defended the realm. One that would fight darkness with darkness, work evil upon evil, and beat back the realm’s enemies by any means necessary. And thus, the Blackwatch came to be.
"Lord Black sought no royal authorization for his new order, making it answerable only to him. In secret, he recruited those who shared his view of the world, and forged them into a knife that would strike the realm’s enemies from behind, by surprise. No tactics were off limits, no stratagem too dark, if it advanced the Blackwatch’s cause.
"Of course, it did not remain a secret forever. In time its name became known to the other royal orders. And being dedicated to the good, those orders saw the Blackwatch as a dark cancer eating at the heart of the realm, corrupting all they sought to defend. And so they added the Blackwatch to the list of enemies they fought.
"And many agents of the Blackwatch returned that enmity. They reasoned that if the realm were to survive, then the Blackwatch must survive; and if the Blackwatch were to survive, the other orders must fall. Soon a secret civil war began right here in the old capitol. The Blackwatch struck at the leaders of the other orders, assassinating many. And the royal orders fought back, making mass arrests of those they believed to be agents of the Blackwatch. At times they even arrested the right people, though more often the accused were innocent.
"It was then that Stefan the Black realized his error. Power corrupts, it is true, and no power corrupts so fast or so thoroughly as power wielded in darkness. In attempting to defend the realm, Lord Black had weakened it, fatally.
"He tried to correct his mistake. He ordered the Blackwatch to disband. But the agents of the Blackwatch refused. They were true believers, you see, convinced of their own righteousness and of the necessity of their actions. And so they turned their knives on their own commander. Stefan the Black was murdered. And the Blackwatch lived on.
"And thus, when darkness fell upon Windemer, the realm was too divided and too corrupted to fight it. The kingdom collapsed. The line of kings was broken. The royal orders died out. This city was abandoned.
“So you see, foolish mortal, that it is not a simple thing you seek to do. Evil acts, even done with good intentions, corrupt. And who knows that more than a thoroughly corrupted creature such as myself?”
Jeremiah shook his head. “I seek no power for myself from this. But I cannot stand by and allow this tyrant to continue on his course.”
“You think your motives pure, your cause just? And yet, you seek to violate the sanctity of a man’s mind. There are those who would judge that a worse violation than murder. Even should you succeed, you will be condemned.”
“So be it,” Jeremiah answered. “I will do what I must.”
The vampire smiled. “‘By any means’? You would have made a fine member of the Blackwatch. As you wish, then. I know where to find what it is you seek, mortal. I will aid you in your quest. If only because I expect you to fail, one way or another. I ask only one thing from you: tell me your name.”
“My name? For what purpose?”
“So that when tales of your dark acts spread across the land, I will know that it was you, and know that I played some small part in your corruption.”
“Very well, then. I am called Jeremiah.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Lord Jeremiah the Black. You may call me Diana. Now, come.”
She led him through dark corridors and down staircases, descending deep into the heart of the Citadel. At last they came to a great bronze door. Jeremiah could see that it was surrounded by a tangled web of magic.
“The vaults of the Silver Citadel,” Diana announced. “Here is where the Citadel’s greatest treasures are stored. You would not have been able to open them without my aid.”
She gestured, and the doors silently swung open. They entered a room filled with row upon row of shelves and cabinets.
Diana led him to one cabinet in particular. The doors seemed to be made of gold but were something else, something much stronger. Diana touched the center of the door, and it opened, revealing a row of small crystalline orbs, glowing in a rainbow of colors.
She took one from the cabinet. “This is the one you want,” she said.
Jeremiah took it from her. It was heavier than he expected. “You have my thanks, my lady.”
“A pleasure,” Diana answered. “Now, let’s see what we can do about those clothes. You can’t be a proper dark wizard dressed like that. You look like a shepherd.”
“I am a shepherd,” Jeremiah told her.
Diana’s laugh echoed through the chamber. “Really? Perhaps you were yesterday, Lord Jeremiah. But today you are something more, and you should look the part. Over here.”
She pulled a set of robes from a rack. They were deep purple in color, with greenish trim. “Here, these are robes of a Master of the Silver Citadel,” she said. “A very junior master, but there are few left who would know the difference, these days. Put them on.”
“I don’t see why-”
“Because they will protect you. Look at them. See what spells are woven into the cloth. You may have had to disguise yourself as an undead creature to reach this city, Jeremiah, but when you leave you will need no such camouflage. The horrors of this realm will recognize you as their master.”
She helped him don the robes, and then stepped back to inspect him. “Excellent. You are quite a handsome young man, did you know that? And these robes are just the thing.”
“I feel ridiculous,” Jeremiah protested.
“But you look – sinister. Commanding. Dangerous.” She nodded. “And dangerous you certainly are.”
Jeremiah sighed. "Very well then. But I must take my leave of you now, my lady. I doubt we shall meet again.
“Don’t be so certain,” she said, smiling archly. “The world is wide and full of darkness, Jeremiah. When the dark overwhelms you and makes you part of it, remember my offer and come back. I will be here.”