It was just encroaching on 150 years in the state the Death found himself in. After the battle his thousand years of living had come to an end. It was a new thing for him to experience, so he wasn’t really sure what to expect. He thought he would be free after 100 years, but alas he wasn’t. He was too big, heavy, and sturdy to move. So the army that conquered Shadow Valley had left him there. To be fair, they didn’t conquer them in the slaughter definition that is implied.
There were too few of the Forbidden tribe to protect Shadow Valley. Even for all their advancements and powers, another battle like that would genocide them. Even if they considered it, Death was no longer there to help. So, by order of King Butch, the Forbidden Tribe was no more. All research and samples of material that was too advanced for this age was destroyed. He had bred a kingly conscience, finally, and didn’t want the Forbidden Tribe’s power to be used by the thrones of men. Such a thing would only insight more war and more bloodshed. The only exceptions to this was the items made for immediate and personal use. Such as enchanted swords and armor. But anything that created them and any notes to duplicate the process were destroyed.
In the time that followed; items, people, and other attachments to the Forbidden Tribe were spread out. Some went to live among normal men from beggars, disguised as such while living a lavish life. All the way to Deities, Elementals and such were mostly in this particular group. Some went to the king and offered to serve as teachers. Such as an Archmage in their magic learning schools, or a trainer of their soldiers, and so on. As for the items that were spread out over that time, they were fought over if they were to roam among men.
However, as Death had turned into a statue of Sinc, it was literally impossible to wretch any of his items off of him. No one could move him and no one could do… well… anything to him. Unfortunately that also meant save him from his current state, for those that wanted to. So he stood there for all to see and a trophy of a battle, rather than the actual truth behind the matter. If any that gazed at him actually knew who he was and what he did, they might’ve looked at him differently. It was then that the powers at be decided to banish this… statue of Death, so no more uprisings of super powered people would come to pass. The decision was made and their mages found a way to send him to another world, time, and place.
“Why is this so important?” Asked a well-dressed and robed man. The robes were clearly marked with the mage’s symbol on it. Guards known as Clerics were stationed around to keep them inline. To be honest, Mages were never let out of the schools that they taught. But this order was from the King’s command so… certain allowances were given.
“Other than this thing giving off enough magical energy to destroy half our known land mass… because the King ordered us to do it.” The other Mage said. He was wearing a better robe and as such probably had a better station within the Mages.
“I suppose… Apologies Sir.” Said the mage as he got back to work.
“How long will this thing take?” Asked a cranky old man in full armor. He was the highest ranking Cleric there at the moment and was obviously not thrilled about watching a few dozen unshackled Mages wield magic in the open. Even if Clerics could resist magic, they couldn’t negate it if these mages wanted to escape. But the bluff that he could was probably the only thing keeping the Mages there… that and the threat of being killed when recaptured.
“Only a few more moments sir.” The head mage stated as they finished incantations, circles, and other precautions. “This is a very complex piece of magic…”
“Yeah, Yeah.” The Cleric interrupted with a hateful glare. “Just get it done and let us be on our way back to the tower, where you… People, belong.” The word ‘people’ being strained.
In a hurried few moments, they were all ready and chanting a combination of spells and using the prepared items. Slowly, the statue started to dim, as if the very fabric of time and space were being effected itself. Like a picture slowly getting out of focus was the image of the statue being sent away. The chanting continued as a dozen staffs shooting spells at the statue, as if shoving the statue into the next world. An apt description regarding what they were trying to do. The very sky was distorted as the magic coming from the Death Statue was being shoved into the next world with it. Like a funnel, the effects that had plagued the area were being drained away. With a final spell from all involved, the Statue was gone and the Magic ceased.
“Very good, now let’s get going.” The Cleric demanded, perhaps too soon. He had to push his authority while the mages were obviously still tired out from the ordeal. If he was lucky, he would get them all back before any of them got any ideas to start trouble. But his mission was half over, so there was that…
As for Death, he was watching the whole thing. Just because he was a statue now, didn’t mean that he couldn’t see what was going on. See, but not change it. However, that changed as he entered the new world. Like hitting reset on a computer, his statue form was beginning to break apart and he was becoming free. Unfortunately, his ability wasn’t active while a statue. So he had no idea how to get back. But he had watched the mages and could possibly replicate the process, given enough time. For now he was being set free in a brand new world. Fully powered and ready to do something other than just stand around, like he had done for 150 years.
But where was he???
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