Written by: Epicstu Wyyvernwriter

At the moment when all was dark, “no it’s not,” said Mr. Spiphy and the moment of darkness ended.

*          *

Edward Dimir had faced countless warriors during his life, and the list has only continued since his death. This Warpriest, however, was something else entirely. Even his brother, Aleister Dimir, had not been this challenging of an opponent. He moved with the grace, precision, speed, and strength that could only come from a man with an unflinching devotion to a God. This was a man who did not believe he could lose, “What are you, Fox?” Pip asked Edward.

Edward locked Blade’s with his newest rival, “We are the Wyyvern Knight of Deceit, the Dead Wyyverns that are the Underrealms of the Wicked and the Righteous, the Wielders of Heaven and of Hell.” He headbutted the Warpriest sending him sliding back and into a wall, “I am Hell, and you belong to me, and so I am the one whom you face.”

Pip took a closer look at Hell’s Blade and saw that what the Fox said was the truth, he wielded Heaven itself. Then he looked into the Fox’s eyes and saw that it was true. This Knight was Hell itself. The seasoned Warrior of a Priest grinned, “finally a decent challenge, I shall prove my God’s rightful place as the one true God with your defeat.”

Zesrial stuck the Warpriest’s Blessed Blade with surges of Her lightning as the two Holy weapons blocked, parried, and slashed against one another at their wielders’ command, “his God is real and blesses his weapons and armor.”

Edward smiled, he had great respect for anyone with such devotion no matter the alignment of their God. Though he also judged harshly those who downright refused to open their mind to new ideas. Faith requires questioning if you cannot question your own beliefs, Edward believed you have no right to question anyone else’s. “Tell me about your God, Warpriest,” Edward asked Pip.

“He is the creator of this World and all others in this and every Galaxy,” the Warpriest proudly spoke of his God. “He is the Creator of Life and the Devour of Death,” he caught the Wyyvern Knight’s Blade with his own and disarmed him of it. Edward took a step back in disbelief as Zesrial flung through the air before landing some distance away, blade first, into the ground. No one had ever outright disarmed Edward Dimir before. Zesrial was just as surprised, their synchronization should have prevented Edward from losing grip on her. “Heaven and Hell are places belonging to him. You have no power here, Wyyvern Knight,” he said as he spun around twice, passing by Edward as he cut him into three pieces. “Too easy,” he walked on toward the Elven people again, “Now, where was I. Ah yes, I was going to purge your souls.”

“Oy,” the voice came from in front of the Warpriest who stopped in disbelief as the Wyvern Knight reappeared in a sudden burst of fire and stone, “your soul is the only one that will be purged here.”

“My Blade prevents resurrection. How did you do that?” Pip questioned.

“I am Hell,” Edward replied, “not simply a dead Fennec who requires aid to resurrect.” He held his right hand toward Zesrial, and she came to him, “You will find I am not so easily defeated.”

Pip swung his Blessed Blade, and Edward tried to block, but Zesrial did not move. The Warpriest’s Blade stopped dead upon contact with Edward’s body, “What?!” again he swung and again and again, “What trickery is this?”

“So, what do you think of your Deathperk?” Zesrial asked Edward.

“I am still unsure as to what a Deathperk is exactly,” Edward replied.

“You’re what now?” Pip questioned. “Who are you talking to?”

“I said Deathperk,” Edward replied, “and I am speaking with Heaven, do you mind?” Then he directed his attention back at Zesrial, “Please continue.”

“You cannot die the same way twice,” Zesrial replied. “Remember that shotgun blast to your chest back in the Lands?” Edward nodded in agreement. “Why do you think you’re bulletproof? Now you cannot even be cut in half, you are losing the ability to die one death at a time.”

Edward laughed, he found the Deathperk to be a bit much. Pip became enraged. Nothing he threw at this, so called, Wyyvern Knight seemed to have a permanent effect. Then he calmed himself and thought for a moment as he communed with his God. The Fox was made of flame so, “perhaps water.”

Zesrial heard the words, from his mouth, before Edward’s ear twitched, but before even she could do anything, the Warpriest pulled a flask of water that had been blessed by his God out and threw its contents at Edward. Immediately a pillar of flame burst from Hell bellow and reached to the Heavens above. Zesrial wasted no time as she took her Angelic form and moved between the Warpriest and her Knight. Edward cried out in pain until the pillar of fire was gone, and Hell left him, and for just a moment all was dark, and then the darkness ended. He was alive again. A mortal Northlandish/Western halfbreed Fennec Fox as he had been before his first Death. “It’s alright, Edward. I have this.” Zesrial said reassuringly to her Fox as she glared angrily at the Warpriest who hurt him so. The Elven people did not know how they could help. Clearly, this was a fight that they would only get in the way of.

The Warpriest swung his Blessed Blade down hard against Zesrial, but it was caught by Edward’s six-inch retractable claws. The mountain climbing adaptation of his race had no problem punching holes through the massive slab of sharpened Blessed metal. Then Zesrial felt Edward’s other paw on her shoulder, “No, I got this,” Edward said reassuringly as he moved between the Warpriest and Zesrial and threw the Warpriest back. He had come to view Zesrial as a Goddess, one he was unworthy of and was lucky to have at his side, “He belongs to Hell, so this is still my fight. Besides, he is only mortal. I would consider it a dishonor to run from a fight simply because the playing field has been evened.” Then he sighed, “I failed you when I was disarmed of you, I wish to prove my worth to you again.”

“How touching,” the Warpriest grinned, and then his grin turned to disgust, “and perverse. Heaven loving Hell? Hell loving Heaven? the very ideas sour within my mind.”

“Are we going to fight or do you just want to hear yourself talk today?” Edward smiled as he unsheathed his double-edged short sword with his offhand and pulled the gauntlet from his hammerspace with his right hand. He felt the wind on his face again and the coolness of the rain as it fell, “that feels nice, I believe I should thank you,” he said to the Warpriest. Then he spoke to Zesrial, “Bless my weapons and armor as his God has.”

“What?” Zesrial became confused, she was but a Wyyvern Underrealm, “I am no God.”

“You are mine,” Edward replied. “I have chosen to worship and serve you. I do not care what you technically are or are not, I believe in you and wish to devote my very soul to you as I have devoted my heart to you. You do not have to, but if you do I know I cannot fail.”

Zesrial began to cry, and the rain fell harder. Then a bolt of Her lightning struck Edward, and his mortal weapons and armor were Blessed and surged with the lightning of she whom he had chosen because she had chosen him. “Don’t you dare fall, Iron Ram.”

Edward smiled, “to this guy? Please.”

“I like this,” the Warpriest grinned. “Man versus Fox, mortal versus mortal, My God versus your Goddess.” He began to chuckle and laugh, “I will prove to all here and now that my God is superior.”

“Bring it on,” Edward replied as he and the Warpriest locked eyes and readied the weapons that their individual Gods had Blessed.

*          *

“Forty-five seconds!” Travvurse shouted over all the noise made by his Scientific equipment and all the ominous chanting, chain shaking, and hummings that came from every Dead within the Wyyvernwriter’s Multiverse. By this time they had moved the seven operating tables into a new Necrotic Sigil they had designed, together, specifically for the synchronization of every possible Fate the Wyyvernwriter’s Multiverse has had, could have, or ever will have. “thirty Seconds!” Stu held the switch that Travvurse would need to have pulled at any Time within the Time he counted down, “twenty seconds! If that switch is not pulled in Time, we will lose them all and have to start over from scratch with new subjects! Ten seconds!” Stu held the switch with a smile, science had made his Necromancy epically more potent and powerful. Also, he enjoyed waiting for the very last second simply to mess with Travvurse. “Nine! Eight! Seven! Six! Five! pull it now!” Stu did not, he waited instead, “What are you waiting for!”

“Hope this works!” Stu still waited. One,” he smoothly said immediately after flipping the switch at the exact moment in Time where success meets failure. Chromium rainbow electricity surged, and Stu, the Nekolich, Writer’s emerald green Necrotic Willpower flowed through the corpses of Aleister Dimir, the Four Horsemen, and the Wyyvern of Apocalypse. “It’s Alive!” Stu shouted.

“Hey!” scolded Travvurse, “That’s my line!” Then all became dark, “we blew out the Multiverses power,” he sighed.

Stu’s eyes widened, “The power is out?! What?” Then the power returned. Stu thought for a moment, “Nah.” Travvurse hovered around each subject and took vitals and when he was done Stu asked, “did it work?”

“The synchronization,” Travvurse began, “was a complete and utter failed attempt at failing,” then he waited for Stu’s response.

Stu hung his head low for a moment, then he perked up quickly, “you mean?”

Travvurse nodded slowly and then shouted, “We did it!” The two Necromancers, one of Magic and one of Science, embraced each other. Then they, quickly, backed off from each other, “Uh,” Travvurse coughed, “yea. So… shall we begin the forging process then?”

“Yes,” Stu replied before starting up the forge.

“So… what are we making the Fennec into?” Travvurse asked.

“That Fennec is among the Multiverses most skilled, was a Legend long before his first Death, and is the current fasted draw in this Multiverse,” said Stu.

“Really?” Travvurse replied. “What are we forging him into?”