Many centuries ago a master of the dark arts worked up a spell that would tear the world apart. An equally Powerful wizard of the Light was able to counter the spell but it would cost him and his descendents. The curse would be confined inside the body of the wizard and then eventually his offspring, and would be contained so long as that body remains alive.
In the present the curse still exists and is continually passed off to the next in line at birth. Only this time the curse holder is the
Many centuries ago...
"Kraynek what are you doing?"
The evil wizard's eyes flickered in recognition of the voice, but his mind was kept focused on the spell of destruction that he was weaving. The utmost control was required or else the spell could break free. In the best case scenario, that meant the spellcaster would be destroyed. Worst case scenario... well much more than that. In the midst of a growing storm he chanted his dangerous and malevolent curse.
"Kraynek please! Stop this madness! Do you realize what you are doing?"
Ashtar frowned, again the other wizard had ignored him. His mind reeled at what he saw, at what he heard. The spell that Kraynek was invoking was one designed for a single purpose. The destruction of earth.
There was no doubt that Kraynek was possessed. It had been inevitable. When consorting with demons other creatures of the underworld with the frequency and alacrity which Kraynek had displayed... it was something that was bound to happen. And fortunately for the world, Kraynek's actions would cost all of them their lives.
Unless... Ashtar eyes brightened for a moment as an idea struck him, but then his features darkened. He had found a way to stop the curse... but it would cost his entire bloodline. Could he make that choice for them? He had to. If he chose not to it would mean that they wouldn't even live. It would be a victory, but a bittersweet one.
Ashtar raised his staff and began chanting in tongue that none had dared utter for thousands of years. Words that would be dangerous in the wrong hands. It is for that reason alone, why I do not print them here. Kraynek continued his chant, but his eyes widened as he realized what Ashtar was doing. Kraynek spoke faster, his words spilling out at a dangerous rate. He had to finish first. Failure... was less then desirable. Ashtar too quickened his cadence and the two wizards began to increase their volume and pitch. Their words echoing across the countryside punctuated by claps of thunder and bolts of lightning. It was rumored that their battle could be heard in every corner of the earth, and I do not doubt it.
But then one of the voices stopped. The battle was over.
Kraynek began to scream. He screamed as one being torn apart from within, his body writhing and convulsing in pain. The demon inside of him was not pleased. Long, deep scratches began to appear on Kraynek's flesh and his yells of agony reached a pitch beyond what any human should have been capable of. Then suddenly, he was gone.
His screams lingered for several more minutes until they too were abruptly cut off.
Ashtar stood, slumped, but smiling. It was the smile of one who had just won a prize, and found that the prize was a grain of sand. He had won.
But at what cost?
Scribe of the of the White Order