Tuji struggled with himself, trying his absolute hardest to wrest back control of his body as it drew closer and closer to the Ilum Tree that loomed over him. Every step he took was completely out of his power, as was every breath or twitch of the fingers… It seemed that his body was lost to him. Tuji had never felt this way in his life… this utter lack of control, this helplessness, it was a repulsive feeling. No matter how hard he fought… his body refused to obey his commands.

His memories of what led him to this fate were hazy… The only thing thing that Tuji could remember was that he had been defeated by Hoplite. Why was Tuji not dead? He had been dead, or at least close to it… but why would Hoplite not ensure Tuji’s demise with a blast from one of his thunder staves?

Perhaps Tuji really was dead, and instead of dining in Zodd’s Hall for eternity, he was damned to prowl the Pits of Ankoriss. If that truly were the case though, then why did the Pits look like the Faewood? No, Tuji was not dead… though if he could not retake control of his actions, he’d soon wish he were.

Tuji’s head then suddenly shot up of its own accord, eyes staring intently at the towering Ilum Tree. That black pillar of wood almost completely blotted out the sun’s rays, its many branches spreading out like fissures in the blue sky. His mouth forcefully quirked up into a smirk, and in an instant, Tuji was somewhere else. His surroundings had changed from a field of midnight black soil to a circular chamber of gnarled wood. A massive glowing yellow crystal hung suspended from dozens of roots overhead, bathing the whole room in a shade of radiant gold.

Where… where was this? How had he come to be here? Was he having some sort of strange nightmare? Several elves sat high above the chamber he stood in, seated in high-backed wooden thrones. These thrones were seemingly grown straight out of the ground and somehow seemed ornate despite their knobbly appearance. The seated elves all looked down at Tuji with wide eyes, and he could easily read the surprise in their gazes.

Tuji would have furrowed his brow at that, had he control of his body. His Dok-Ah was underdeveloped and weak compared to that of a full-blooded elf, and he’d rarely ever been able to read the emotions of another person… So why was it so easy now? What had changed since his defeat at Hoplite’s hands?

“Harkmother.” Tuji said, his mouth working of its own will “Your rule has been weak and fraught with ill-made decisions.” Tuji continued, his finger pointing directly at a matriarchal elf woman above.

So this was the Harkmother? If that was the case, then this was most definitely the Harkhall… but why was he here? Why was Tuji saying these things?

Her green eyes regarded Tuji as she fingered a strand of her long blonde hair. Fear was in her eyes, though she did quite a good job at concealing it outwardly. A very composed woman to resist fleeing from the ice-cold terror she felt. Perhaps she recognized Tuji somehow? If she did, it could only be because he’d been described to her by the Watchers. After all, Tuji had never met this woman in his life.

Tuji’s finger lowered finally, and again, his lips quirked up in a smirk “It is time that the Harkhall be disbanded. Draoi never set up this system of governing, it was a purely mortal decision. Therefore, I break none of his laws in overthrowing you to install a more efficient form of rule.”

The Harkmother drew her lips to a tight line, glaring down at Tuji with fire in her eyes, all the previous fear evaporating from the sheer heat of her rage. It was hard to believe that he had ever respected the woman, she was a fool and a coddler. Tuji would have blinked in shock had he been capable of it. Respected this woman? Tuji had never even met her! Where had that stream of thought come from? It was alien and most certainly not his own…

“You…” The Harkmother said slowly “Will begone from this place, creature. Our Lord Draoi will smite you from our sight-”

“Mother,” Tuji said, cutting her off “Draoi is not going to stop me. I wouldn’t have even been able to get this far, had he not wanted me to. Do you not see? This is Draoi’s will!” He shouted, flinging his arms wide “Look me in the eyes Harkmother, and know me for who I really am.”

A second passed, then another, as the Harkmother peered into his eyes. The woman blinked before gasping in horror, placing a hand to her chest as her jaw hung agape.

“Terlin!” The Harkmother shouted “How can this be!?”

Terlin grinned as he shoved Tuji to the recesses of his mind, locking the foolish orc away as he crossed his arms. It seemed that the creature's soul had not been completely purged as Terlin had hoped. Another discovery to be marked down in his notes once his business here was concluded. This was a kind of magic that no one had attempted to use across all of preserved history… At least, not the history that common people were privy to.

Terlin crossed his broad arms over his chest as he glared up at the Harkmother, his fiery eyes boring holes into her skull. If the Harkmother didn’t comply with his commands… then Terlin may have to do just that.

“I had to do what was necessary,” Terlin explained “With the body of this Pillar-Born, I will overthrow you, all of you.” Terlin told them, his eyes finding each member of the Harkhall “Now bow if you value your lives. I, Terlin Fire-Eyes, declare myself as king of the Bastion!”

“Slay him!” The Harkmother shouted at Magulian, another sitter for the hall.

Magulian was a small elven man with a dangerous Dok-Ah, being capable of slicing flesh with only his eyes. Magulian has slain countless Akan-Dari during the Expansion War, and alongside Terlin, had served as the Harkhall’s enforcer, should a situation such as this play out. Of course, none of the members of the Hall would have ever anticipated a Pillar-Born coming to attack them.

Terlin wanted to shock the Hall into submission, not slaughter them. They were not all fools like the Harkmother, but they were certain to go against his rightful rule. There would only need to be one example made hopefully, and that example would have to be Magulian. Unfortunate, but Terlin’s old friend would need to be slain, for he knew that Magulian would not back down from his duty.

Magulian was one of the main reasons why Terlin had opted to take possession of Tuji’s body. Magulian’s Dok-Ah alone had been the only real threat to Terlin’s plans… at least before he had obtained this new body of course.

Magulian had always been just slightly faster in activating his Dok-Ah than Terlin had, meaning that in most scenarios, Magulian would kill Terlin before he had the chance to set him aflame. With the Pillar-Born’s steel flesh, however, it could be resisted.

Indeed, Terlin felt an invisible force strike his throat, and as Terlin had hoped, it merely glanced off his skin, a clang echoing through the chamber. He stared at Magulian, the elf showing terror in his eyes just before Terlin used his own Dok-Ah in retaliation.

In an instant, Magulian erupted in flame, and he tumbled out of his chair screaming, falling head-first into the visitor’s platform and cracking his skull open on the gnarled floor. Terlin ceased the flame in that instant, approaching the burnt body and looming over it. Surprisingly, Magulian coughed, raising a hand toward Terlin with horrified eyes.

“M-mercy…” Magulian wheezed through burnt lips, his gray eyes desperate.

“I am sorry, friend. It has to be this way.” Terlin said coldly before he stomped on Magulian’s skull, the heel sinking into the forehead with a sickening crunch of bone.

Terlin sighed as he heard Tuji wailing in the back of his mind.

“You violate Tomah!” The creature shouted from the murky depths of his subconsciousness “Stop this!”

He huffed in irritation at the mewling voice of this body's former owner. Terlin had thought that this possession would have purged the Pillar-Born’s consciousness completely, yet somehow it seemed that the monster's soul still held on. Perhaps it was something to do with the divine blood the orc had been born with?

Terlin silenced the wretched voice again as he easily leaped to the high seats above, coming to loom over the Harkmother’s throne. She flinched away, sinking back into her throne before averting her fearful gaze.

“So, what will it be, Mother?” Terlin asked, readying his fist to deliver a killing blow to her skull.

…

…

…

Hector leaned back in his throne with a heavy sigh, a low guttural sound that echoed throughout the empty stone chamber. There was really no need for Hector to bother with guards, none would be able to protect him better than Hector himself could. It was far less risky as well, a hired guard could easily be a spy from an enemy Block-Lord, or an assassin paid by the gangs of the Akan-Dark to eliminate him.

There have been assassins, of course, several had come to try and slay Hector over this past decade, and all had failed. Most were dealt with by his capable servants, true, but the ones that did make it to Hector never stood a chance. His senses were just far too keen to allow any would-be killer to sneak up on him. Those very senses allowed Hector to hear the footsteps echoing outside his empty throne room, and he froze an instant before easing back into his seat.

The weight of the footsteps and the distance between them indicated that it was his most trusted servant, Glen. Hector was soon proven correct as Glen’s signature knock soon echoed from the far end of the chamber, and he grinned.

Hector then sat up on his throne, quickly combing a knot from his black beard before he bellowed, “Enter Glen!”

The ornately carved wooden door then slowly swung open, two other men heaving on the door to allow Glen into the throne room. After he passed over the threshold, Glen urged the two men to shut the doors shut once more. They immediately went to work, pulling the doors closed and leaving Glen and Hector alone in the wide chamber.

Glen approached on sandalled feet, his silk cloak hanging down to trail the red carpet of the floor. A short-trimmed beard framed Glen’s tanned features, and his dark eyes held a glint of mischief, even after all these years.

“My master.” Hector’s servant said, kneeling before his throne.

Hector sighed, waving for the man to stand “What is it, Glen? And again, you don’t have to kneel every time you come to see me.”

Glen shook his bald head as he stood from the red carpet that lead to Hector’s throne “I insist sire, you are one of Akan-Dar’s Block Lords, as such, you are deserving of every ounce of respect I can give you.”

Hector sighed again, and stood to his full height, towering above Glen by a solid two feet. Glen was by no means a small man, it was just that Hector was overly massive, a result of his… unorthodox upbringing.

“It is a small Block, and I am a humble man.” Hector told Glen, stepping down the carpeted stairs toward his servant “Please just call me Hector.”

“That makes you all the more worthy of serving, my lord.” Glen said with a small smile. “I would sooner stick a knife in another ‘lord’s’ neck before referring to you by just your name.”

Hector laughed and shook his head. “Don’t say that where others can hear you. You know how the serpents of this city slither in all corners.”

“Aye my lord…” Glen said, bringing his voice down to a whisper, “I have news pertaining to the Starfall.”

Hector’s golden eyes widened in surprise. “Is that so? I am eager to hear this news, please speak it.”

Hector had been aching to learn more about the Starfall, and the ‘moon monster’ that had appeared next to Rhetyna. He dearly hoped that his suspicions on what the mass could be were false… but until he gathered more intel, all he had to go on was a guess. God, let it be just a guess…

“A man has risen from one of the fallen stars my lord.” Glen said silently.

Hector gasped “A man? As in a human?”

Glen nodded “Aye my lord, a human.”

Hector gave a sigh of relief. Just a human… not what he had thought these ‘stars’ might be. Though if these ‘Starfallen’ really were human, Hector would have a different kind of problem on his hands…

“The Starfallen has a name, and has already earned himself quite the reputation.” Glen said, locking his fingers together “He has destroyed an army of fiends, saving the Fiendwall and likely the Faewood from total annihilation, but even more impressively, if the report is accurate, then he has slain a Pillar-Born as well.”

Hector’s brows shot up in surprise. The presence of a Pillar-Born meant that the end of the world was coming soon… right?

He sighed and put a massive hand on Glen’s shoulder “Thank you for your good work Glen, now, you said that this Starfallen had a name? I would hear it.”

“Of course my lord.” Glen said with a nod “He goes by Hoplite.”

Hector’s blood immediately went cold, and he backed away from Glen with a startled gasp.

Impossible.

It was impossible.

Hector put a quivering hand to his face, his golden eyes seeming to shake in his skull.

“His number!” Hector suddenly shouted “What is his number Glen!?”

Glen’s eyes widened in shock, and he put his hands up in a calming gesture before saying “I do not know what you mean my lord… all I know is his name, not this… number. Was he a slave?”

Hector took a deep breath to steady his nerves before he clasped his hands behind his back, turning away from Glen to stare at his throne.

“Glen… please leave me for a time. Please find out his number if possible. I… I need to know.” Hector rasped, tears threatening to slide down his cheeks.

“Aye my lord… be well.” Glen said slowly “When next we speak, I hope to have the information you are asking for.”

Hector said nothing as Glen left his presence, and as soon as those doors closed, his shoulders slumped.

“We were slaves Glen…” Hector whispered “We all were…”