Black Mage Rising

[SirNitram]

(A short peice, possibly followed up on. I abandon too many works to promise more than the initial one.)

Netheril. An Empire of magic. An eternal place, to last until the end of tim-

A nation on the verge of collapse, as magic rushed out of the world, the Weave sealed off. Cities plumetted towards the ground. And in one of the falling cities, a battle raged. Like living cyclones of rock and crystal, the Phaerimm were assaulted the Archwizard within, as he fought to stabalize his city on the last vestidges of magic.

"Hang on!" Nitram yelled, managing to grasp enough dweamour to enchant a rope, the snakelike living length grabbing his apprentice, hauling them back to the ground as the city continued it's descent. The Phaerimm, ever obsessed, hurled lightning at the two as they tried to stay attached to the city. "Damn Karsus.. Damn him to hell.."

"We're gonna die!" Screamed the apprentice, as a blast of lightning narrowly missed him, setting his robes aflame.

Suddenly, the city stopped. Wizard and apprentice hit the tiled city street they were clinging to, the Phaerimm knocked into buildings by the sudden halt. "I don't believe it.." Nitram murmured, feeling the magic come back to him in time to hurl silver fire into one of the Phaerimm. "Karsus won, he did i-.."

Stretched across the sky, molded out of clouds, stood a woman's body. Yet this was no mortal woman; Mystryl, Goddess of Magic looked upon Netheril, continuing to battle Karsus for command of the source of all magic. The Phaerimm even ceased their attack, silenced by the attention of this living deity, as her head turned. Her face was sad; the sadness of a being who knows her most beloved children were going to die.

A single word seemed to shake the heavens as it issued from her lips. "Live."

Then reality exploded into living pain....

*********************

Ice. Endless ice... A world of ice stretched out in every direction. Nitram awoke on the ice, his robes nearly frozen to the sheet of the stuff, forcing himself up as he regained consciousness. The biting winds were casually rebuffed; the freezing temperature feeling merely a mite chill through the intact wards.

Little comfort, as he stared out on the ice. He screamed the names of his friends, his compatriots, his loved ones. The ice offered no reply, no sign of the Empire, no sign that there was anything but ice. He squinted against the burning light of the sun reflecting off the sheet, and attempted to teleport. Nothing. "Impossible.. Where.. Am I?" Driven by knowledge of the lethal temperatures and the sun near the horizon, the mage started walking.

Two days past, endless walking. The sun still hadn't moved. Was this hell?, reflected Nitram. Is this what happens to those who turned their powers selfishly? Still, he forced himself onwards. Ahead, he saw what looked like smoke... Smoke, meant fire. And where there was fire...

The mage ran across the endless ice, towards the village.

[Captain Cyran]

Hmmm, interesting. I don't suppose the other Black Mages will be making appearances, which is perfectly alright. Seems interesting so far though. Pretty cool.

[Kuja]

Interesting.

[Peregrin Toker]

I am certainly also convinced that it starts excellently, with some action speeding up the pace early on and then the plot developing. I eagerly await the next chapter.

However, I have one complaint - in The Forgotten Realms 'verse, goddess of magic and sorcery is not called Mystryl but Mystra. The equivalent of this error would be a Warhammer fanfic where Sigmar Heldenhammer was called Siegfried Hollenhammer.