"The Wither" - Chapter 1: It's Alive!

The chanting of several voices echoed eerily off the walls of the darkened chamber. The five robed mages stood around the ritual circle that had been drawn on the floor in arcane red chalk many days prior. As the chant neared its conclusion, glowing blue streams of soul energy issued forth from the mages’ staffs and began to suffuse the three piles of bones that were clustered together in the circle’s center.

Many of the bones slowly began to drift off of the ground and hover in the air, gradually assembling into a coherent shape, and rapidly blackening from the dark power suffusing them in the process. On the ground, the bones not needed for the ritual crumbled to dust, as in the air above, the monster finished taking shape.

The hours-long chant ceased, as did the beams of soul energy, as the ritual was complete, and the exhausted mages lowered their staffs. Once the soul energy surrounding its form had fully subsided, the soul mages were finally able to behold their creation. The monster was composed entirely of blackened bones and would have towered a couple of feet above its creators if it had been touching the ground.

The wither’s body consisted of a long spine that traveled upwards and through a large ribcage before splitting into three, with each end being topped by a blackened skull. Within each of the creature’s eye sockets glowed a pool of blueish-white soul energy. The wither briefly hovered motionlessly in the air before each head moved with a jolt as if suddenly being woken from a dream.

The three heads began to look from side to side, taking in their surroundings as the creature’s body rotated in place. The new being took note of the five robed figures encircling it. These mortals were well over six feet tall, their chalk-colored skin was easily visible within their hoods, and each of them had yellow-gold markings on their face, but the marks were not identical between any two of them.

The mage that seemed to be the leader took a couple of tentative steps toward the wither. The aging man’s robe appeared to be made out of the night sky with six large stars near the shoulders that were much brighter than the rest, and in his hand was a rune-engraved staff made of silvery metal and crowned by a large amethyst gem.

“Can you understand me, monster?” the mage questioned in a halting voice that trembled with excitement and trepidation.

“We are Witherius, and shall be referred to as such,” the middle head asserted in a deep and commanding voice as his cruel gaze bored into the old man’s wide eyes.

The mage hastily stepped backward, holding his staff out in front of him. “Alright… well… I suppose I should introduce myself…” He straightened and cleared his throat, “I am Soul Lord Quith, your creator and the owner of this outpost, and as such, I expect you to treat me with a bit more respect.”

“I reserve my respect for those who can crush their foes in battle!” Witherius’ left head exclaimed in a shrill, animated voice.

“Don’t antagonize him, Left,” the first head interjected.

“I do not believe people like you create beings like us for the sake of it… So tell me, Quith, for what purpose were we created?” the right head queried in the smooth and measured voice of a practiced speaker.

The Soul Lord nodded and began, “One hundred years ago, our people, The Great Builder Empire, ruled over a large stretch of both the Nether and the Material Plane. The empire of the Material Plane was the oldest and greatest of the two empires and was ruled by High Emperor Zoldiock.” He continued, “Eventually, our great empire fell into infighting due to the treacherous illusions of a lich, and was destroyed by a coalition of all of our vile and conquest-hungry neighbors. You were created to go into the Material Plane and destroy the nations that have wronged us,” Quith finished with a flamboyant flourish of his hand toward the wither.

Witherius’ three heads responded at once:

“I see.”

“We were created to cause destruction? I love causing destruction!”

“We will be happy to assist in the righteous cause of your revenge.”

“Very good,” Quith remarked, a pleased smile spreading across his face.

Ì

“All right, for your first test, you will need to destroy these targets with your flaming skulls,” the soul mage explained, pointing at a row of targets painted in red on small stone walls.

“With pleasure!” the wither gleefully exclaimed. Each of Witherius’ heads turned to face a separate target, and a charred, flaming skull appeared from thin air in front of each before launching toward its respective mark. The fiery projectiles landed almost simultaneously, reducing their respective targets to rubble. By the time the first of the skulls had landed, the wither’s heads had already turned and unleashed a second volley. Mere seconds later, the whole line of targets had been reduced to a field of debris.

“Good. Very good,” Quith commented, clearly impressed. “You have proved both your ability to attack accurately at range, and to destroy almost any physical barrier in your path. Now I shall have you fight a few of our soldiers to test your prowess in a real battle.”

“Do you really have any doubts? I would think our prowess is evident,” Witherius retorted imperiously.

“I must make sure of your prowess before giving my report to the High Emperor,” the Soul Lord asserted.

Witherius followed the group of soul mages to a small arena dug into the floor of a large room. The ground of this realm was made from a type of soft, red stone known as netherrack. Waiting in the pit were builders, each clad in chainmail and wielding a sword and shield. The wither lazily drifted to the center of the arena, two of his heads eyeing their opponents with boredom, and the third with glee.

“Begin,” one of the mages loudly commanded.

The soldiers charged at the floating monster in unison. The first of their number was struck in the chest by a flaming skull and hurled against one wall of the pit.

Another soldier lunged forward to attack, but was suddenly caught in Witherius’ telekinetic grip and lifted into the air.

The wither’s right head chanted a brief incantation and a wave of fire launched from in front of him, incinerating two of his adversaries.

A fallen soldier’s sword levitated into the air and flew forward, driving itself deep into the hovering warrior’s stomach. Witherius let the impaled soldier fall to the ground as he rotated so that the tops of his heads were facing the wall. Then the wither bolted forward, slamming heads-first into one of the builders and crushing him into one wall.

Witherius hovered a few more feet into the air and surveyed his surroundings. All of his adversaries lay dead except for one that had been struck with a flaming skull. The remaining soldier was in the process of struggling to his feet as he clutched at his injured midsection. “No survivors,” the wither matter-of-factly proclaimed as he fired a burning skull into the soldier’s head, separating it from his shoulders. A high-pitched, gleeful cackle issued from Witherius’ left head as he watched the headless corpse of his final foe collapse to the ground.

“Very well done, indeed. Viran will certainly be pleased with me for this one,” Quith commented with a chuckle.

Ì

Witherius was alone, hovering in a corner of the barren quarters he was given for breaks in between testing.

“I have been wanting to talk with the two of you about our situation,” the wither’s center head confided. “I do not feel that we should follow the orders of those who are trying to get revenge for being justifiably destroyed.”

“I agree completely,” one head responded. “I can remember many things from the souls that created us, and it seems to me that the builders were heartless conquerors and slavers, who eventually angered their neighbors into uniting against them and giving them what they deserved.”

“But, Right… I thought you said that their revenge was a righteous cause?” the third head questioned with obvious confusion in his voice.

“That… was a lie, I was merely manipulating our foolish creators. I thought that was obvious… but I guess not,” Right responded in a tone of mild exasperation.

“Oh. Well, I guess I agree with you then. But if we aren’t going to follow the builders’ orders, what are we going to do? Kill them? I like the sound of killing them!” the left head answered.

“Actually, that’s exactly the thing I was going to suggest. I agree with Left that the builders should be destroyed,” Center stated. “Their own despicable behavior resulted in their downfall in the Material Plane, and it is now up to us to finish them off here in the Nether, for the good of everyone.”

“Yes. I believe that’s the right thing to do. And with the builders wiped out, the land will become a happier and more peaceful place for everyone. We shall be heroes,” one of his brothers responded.

“For once, I like the sound of this plan! Finally, I can cause some carnage without you two yelling at me! And for a good cause no less!” the other head enthusiastically concurred.

“Then it is unanimous. Quith and the rest of his race must die… but before we can destroy them, we must escape from this place and regroup,” the leader of the three admitted.

“Fear not… I already have a plan!” the right head announced with a maniacal laugh.

Go to Chapter 2 ⏩

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