PALE REIGN OVER GESHEM - CHAPTER 31
by Abyss <LAbyss@hotmail.com>

     The castle, our home, was under attack.
     They came up through the tunnels, through
ways that were supposed to be closed to all.  We
never expected an attack.
     The Queen and the Shaman were ensorcelled.
     My wife, Lady Jehane, was struggling to
free them, and the High Lords and remaining
knights had fought a holding action to protect
the palace.
     Preyers were everywhere, as fast as the
Basilisk Mask knocked one down, two more rushed
to the attack, clawing at fleeing servants and
nobles as easily as they ripped through men-at-arms.  The bandits were just as 
bad.  Scum, all
of them.  Murdering innocents and laughing.
     I saw the Paladin fall, his sword, the
Shard of Kym, forged from a fragment of the
Heart itself, swinging to the last, sending
blasts of pure energy into any foe he closed
with.  The bandits had shot crossbow bolt after
crossbow bolt into him at a distance, even as
the preyers attacked his flanks.  In the end,
they had overwhelmed him.  Mistral had flown to
his aid, lightning bursting from her fists and
furious eyes, white hair blown about by storm-like winds.  She had scattered 
the foe, sending
some hurtling over the castle walls.  Her
assault had been maddened by grief and fury, and
it had afforded me a chance to rally the
defenders.  We had gathered at the main stairs
to the anteroom where milady fought to save the
queen.  I called to Mistral to join us, but
grief shut out all thoughts but vengeance.  The
Marauder called Javelin struck her from the air,
and she fell amidst the preyers.  I can only
pray she was already dead.
     They rushed us then, and I stood at the
fore.  My sword drank deeply of soulsworn blood
that day.  At my back, Sir Peter was like a
rock, his armor-clad fists crushing the foe. 
For a time, we held them, and then we began to
turn them back.  A devastating blast from the
Basilisk Mask scattered our foes, and Peter led
a charge while I recovered from the effort.  The
Marauder, Downfall, locked him into combat.  The
remaining men of Geshem tore into the foe.  As I
recovered enough to join the assault, I felt a
sundering of my very soul, as if half of it were
torn away.  And I knew, milady had fallen...
     I will never forgive myself for what I
did, but I had little choice.  I turned my back
on the struggle and ran up the stairs, and then
I saw him...
     His skin pale as a ghost, but his eyes red
as blood.  He wore all black, even his cloak,
and before him, he held my wife.  Her eyes
stared at me blankly... there was no life in
them... those green eyes, so full of life and
love and a fury when she angered... nothing
left, nothing at all...
     I think I lost myself then...
     All thought of blade and Mask vanished,
and I rushed forward to tear the fiend's face
off  with my own two hands.   After all these
years of struggle, I knew I couldn't beat him,
and still I attacked.
     I was a fool, perhaps I can be forgiven,
but I was a fool.
     I died for my foolishness.  But I had
little reason to live.  My Queen fallen, my
Lady... dead.
     I can still hear the Pale Man speak...
 Such a waste of power... but you have something
I need.'.
     And now he dares use my mask and the
Paladin's sword to drain the magic of the Land.
     The Pale Man cannot be allowed to
triumph...
     Avenge me.
     Free the Queen, free the Land...
     AVENGE US
          *         *         *
     Scott Summers pulled back his hands from
the mask.  The rush of images broke off, but
lingered like a waking dream.  He could see the
battle for the castle, he could feel the High
Lord Summerisle's awful grief.     
     And he could feel the other man, in his
head.  At the end, there had been almost a...
pulling, as if someone else was moving his
body... he had only put one hand on the mask,
but both had been fixed there when he broke the
contact.
     This was the call then... like the other
two, this man, this _dead_ man, was him, and
even in death, he was trying to fulfill his
duty... it was madness.
     *Madder than dragons and identical twins
and glowing red eyes?  Madder than alternate
dimensions and mutant powers and evil sorcerers
trying to take over the world?  More insane than
this man, whose dead body you saw hanging from
the castle, trying to take up residence in your
head?*
     Scott thought about the images... the
grief had been so bad when the red-haired woman
had died that it was all he could do not to cry
out loud.  And the others... when his wing-man
had been hit by a SAM over Iraq, it had felt
much like when the man called Paladin and the
Lady Mistral had died. 
     A huge man wielding a blade that crackled
with energy, and a white haired, beautiful dark
skinned woman who wielded lightning... and he
had known them, somehow...another huge man, his
armor flexing like muscle, also fallen...
     *So much death... and now the others,
taken by the dragon...*
     And Scott decided.  Placing both hands on
the Mask, he picked it up.  The distortion of
power from the sword in the Heart flickered a
moment, then left the mask and continued into
the rock.  Scott didn't notice.  His eyes were
fixed on the mask, as he lifted it up, placed it
over his head, and lowered it over his face
until the ruby red lenses were over his eyes.
          *         *         *
     *I am Lord Summerisle... I am Scott
Summers.*
      I live again, and the Pale Man and all
who serve him... will fall.'

END CHAPTER 31