But Kaerion did not look away. He relived every second of that event, recalled every sight, sound, and emotion, both through the god’spower and the strength of his own memory. Still, he found the courage to experience it all again.
He watched as the demons dragged his sobbing body from the room, but the image continued. He stared in horror as the boy’s bloodied carcasswrithed and undulated on the altar. Shredded muscle and puckered flesh joined. The boy’s body elongated. Broken bones knitted together. Kaerion’s horror grewas the boy’s hands twisted into claws, and scales grew upon his flesh like thickmoss upon a swamp rock. Wings sprouted from the creature’s back, and it raiseditself off the altar with a single thrust of its new appendages.
Kaerion looked at Heironeous’ avatar in disbelief. “What-?”He couldn’t continue.
The avatar nodded once at Kaerion’s confusion. “Yes, you seeit now. There never was any innocent boy in Dorakaa. You were tricked. Even in Iuz’s seat of power I protected you. His servants couldn’t kill you unless yougave yourself to them freely.”
“But even if it was an illusion, I thought it was real,”Kaerion protested. “I still believed that either the boy or I would die. I choseto live.”
“No,” the avatar persisted. “You sensed something was wrong,and even though you were half mad, you wouldn’t let Iuz triumph. Remember?”
“No,” Kaerion said. “No! It was my fault. Mine!”
“Remember,” the avatar said, and this time it was not aquestion. The god’s word exploded in Kaerion’s mind, and Kaerion did remember.It was a thing almost completely forgotten, a recollection buried deep within the hole that was Dorakaa. He had sensed something wrong, but his guilt at his own weakness had hidden this from him.
“If I didn’t fail you, then why have I not sensed you thesepast years?” Kaerion did not know whether to shout or cry. He was a tangle ofemotions, both new and old.
“My son,” the avatar said in a child’s kind voice, “youthought that you escaped Dorakaa, but you have carried that dungeon within you these many years, refusing to be free of it. I could not reach you until you called out to me for help.”
“But the curse,” Kaerion said, indicating his sheathed holysword. “Why did you torment me with Galadorn’s presence?”
The avatar smiled once more. “You know the strength and powerof that sword. Galadorn chooses its own wielder, and not even I will command it otherwise.” At Kaerion’s blank expression, the avatar continued, “I never cursedyou with its presence. Had I truly condemned you, I would have tried to persuade it to choose someone else. Fortunately-” the boy’s voice began to deepen, wordby word-“the sword simply refused to leave your side.”
Kaerion would not have believed it if Galadorn hadn’t pulsedwith energy at that moment. All of this was too much to comprehend. He needed time to think things through.
“Time is what we do not have,” the avatar said, responding tohis thoughts. Kaerion turned at the deep, resonating bass of the god’s voice.Gone was the wide-eyed, innocent boy. He had been replaced by a muscular warrior in pure, golden plate armor. The man’s face was handsome, and nobility andstrength flowed from every pore.
“Will you serve me?” the Arch Paladin said, holding agleaming silver sword over Kaerion’s head. Without thinking, Kaerion dropped tohis knees, tears streaming down his face. In a voice far sturdier than he would have thought possible, he accepted the yoke of Heironeous once again.
“Then rise, Kaerion, known as the Whitehart, best andbrightest of my champions,” the avatar’s voice thundered throughout the templeand, Kaerion suspected, beyond the planes, “and carry my justice to the world!”
Kaerion stood, surrounded by a nimbus of pure white light. The nimbus intensified, expanding to fill the temple.
And beyond.
The light faded. In its place Kaerion saw a calloused palm, fingers hooked like claws, heading straight for his throat. He backed away furiously, tripping over a mound of gold coins. The avatar had been correct. No time had passed at all-which meant that he was still too late to save Majandra.The ache in his heart throbbed at that realization, yet he felt something else burning within his chest-the power of Heironeous.
With a cry born of grief and triumph, Kaerion unsheathed the blade that had lain quiescent for a decade. Galadorn burst into life with an explosion of white heat. The runes running along its blue-steel length flared with coruscating energy. Raising the sword high, Kaerion called on the protection of Heironeous. The blade sang with power.
The skull’s presence throbbed like a cancerous blight to hisgod-enhanced senses. Everything inside Kaerion screamed for the abomination’sdestruction. Breathing deeply, he charged the demi-lich.
“Heironeous lend me strength!” he shouted as he drew nearer.
Slowly at first, and then with increasing speed, he felt the Arch Paladin’s power filling him-white and hot and potent. Every fiber ofKaerion’s being drank in the holy energy, until his bones vibrated with thestrength of it.
The paladin swung his sword with a cry, barely able to contain the divine fury that swelled within him. There was a moment of resistance-and then Galadorn struck the demi-lich. Heironeous’ power rushed outof him. Fueled and magnified by the holy sword, it detonated against the skull, causing it to explode in a hail of powder and dust. The roiling darkness of Acererak’s spirit fled with an unearthly shriek.
“No, you fool!” he heard a voice shout from somewhere nearthe vault’s door.
There was no time to explore the source of that voice. Glancing at his companions, Kaerion could see that the golem had almost vanquished them. Landra stood before it, bruised and bleeding, barely able to hold up her sword, while Bredeth charged in and out of the creature’s reach,slicing at it like a hunting dog might worry the heels of a giant boar.
Gerwyth had retreated a few steps and was firing arrows repeatedly at the monster. Several had managed to pierce its flesh, but it was nowhere close to being hurt. Kaerion ran forward, eager to bring Galadorn to bear on the situation, and was surprised to hear a soft whispering sound coming from the elf’s bow. He recognized the familiar lilt of Elvish, but, not beingfluent in that language, he could not understand what it was saying. He had heard Gerwyth speaking to the weapon in battle before, but had never dreamed it was sentient.
Galadorn’s influence must be allowing me to overhear it, hethought.
The golem reached out a meaty hand to grab at Landra just as Kaerion swung his blade at the monster. The force of his blow cut deeply into the creature’s flesh. Kaerion heard the crack of bones as Galadorn cleavedthrough its shoulder, nearly severing the golem’s arm from its body. Through itall, he could hear the blade’s triumphant song ringing in his head.
Another arrow struck the golem, lodging in the constructs throat, but that did not slow down its counterattack. Hastily, Kaerion slid to the creature’s left, raising his shield to block the forearm that threatened tosnap the bones in his chest. The paladin grunted under the impact as his shield bent awkwardly around his arm. He was about to throw the useless instrument to the ground when Galadorn shouted,
Kaerion turned but was not quick enough to dodge the attack. He screamed in agony as a black-clad figure thrust a blade deep into his back. Kaerion cursed at his own stupidity. He had completely forgotten about the thief that had stolen some of Phathas’ maps during the attack on the inn.
