"Thane!"

Thane Gregor wrenched his blade from between a bowman's ribs and looked up. His lieutenant was pointing at the top of the Tower of the Whispering Archmage. Waves of energy from the top of the Tower shimmered and bent the image of the moon making it look like a riverstone as the waves passed over them, over the city walls and to the horizon.

"So it is done." The battle that had been raging on the battlements of the Tower's walled city paused as the Thane Alliance men and the Wizard's High Guard looked at their hands and each other, then finally at the city and surrounding encampment and Everdark Forest beyond looking for signs of the Great Spell's effect. None were visible.

"Fall back!" Thane Gregor bellowed and he heard is order echo around the walls that the Alliance had just overrun. There was no reason to risk any more good men nor the innocent folk of the city. The hell spawned wizards had gotten their way. But what had they wrought? The mighty Thane felt...different but couldn't place why. He couldn't see any abyssal portals, nor piles of gold, nor fantastic creatures but that doesn't mean they weren't out there waiting.

"You!" Thane Gregor shouted at a brightly uniformed Tower Guard huddled behind an barricade made primarily with the remnants of market stalls. "Go tell your masters that we wish to parlay. In return, we will leave unconditionally. They have until sundown."

The man nodded and scurried toward the city center and the Tower.

Hours passed as Thane Gregor visited the wounded and counted the dead. Too many lost their lives for nothing. If only his weak willed forefathers listened to their hearts rather than the gold the wizards had bribed them with, they would not be facing this unknown abomination.

The Thane's guards snapped at attention as his fastest scout ducked into his tent.

"Any developments?" Thane asked expecting the same answer he'd gotten all afternoon.

"None, sire. The riders you ordered to the relay stations and the nearest towns have returned citing no evidence of wizarding activity. There are no magical effects evident anywhere. There is, however, a sedan chair moving in this direction from the City."

"Have Jarem gather the Council. March the delegation past the prisoners. I want them to see that we still have them to bargain with, at least."

Thane Gregor sat at the center of the Council table arrayed like Judges on a raised platform constructed from the nearby Darkwood. Thane Acker leaned toward him as the sedan carried by four heavily decorated Tower Guards split the ring of bloodstained sentries. "Four guards and no Mumblers." Thane Gregor never like that term for the battle wizards who tended to energize devastating spells under their breath even in the heat of combat.

Gregor whispered back "Whomever is in that sedan could have anything prepared. Don't drop your guard now, Acker."

The guards turned the opening of the sedan to face the Thane Council and one peeled back the thick curtain.

Thane Gregor felt the entire bench of Thanes straighten in their chairs. This was not General Feld nor Mayor Clantivex as they were expecting. A frail old mage in threadbare robes stepped out of the sedan leading heavily on the Guard's arm. This could only be Archmage Ru. The Whispering Archmage. And he wasn't whispering anymore, which was a relief to Thane Gregor. This man and his four guards were completely at the Thanes' mercy.

"Hello." croaked the wizard quietly. "I understand that there has been a bit of fuss over my spell?"

Thane Gregor thought back to his campaign. The War of Eight, the Mage Massacre, the Black Winter and The March to name a just a few catastrophes of decades of war and suffering.

Thane's voice shook behind clenched teeth. "I have one question. You WILL answer. What is it that you've done, wizard."

"You power hungry brutes are all the same. What, were you expecting the gates of Hell to open and an army of demon's to appear? Last time I checked that kind of thing only takes around 15 years. Did you expect some distant city will be destroyed? Four years. A disease to plague certain tribes? 2 years. A literal mountain of gold? 50 years. Bah...all of these magics...they are powerful, but they bring great pain in the long run. I am not interested in such petty things. Magic is power, make no mistake, but trying to hold onto it is futile as history has shown time and time again. Even the great creative wizards like Elekine who build impossibly beautiful cities only ended up creating wars to control their creations. All I've done is change the world."

Thane Gregor smashed his mailed hand into the table and stood up in a fury. "How! How is the world changed!"

"Well, great warrior, I will tell you. I've created lasting power -- Knowledge, true and lasting Knowledge."

"Riddles are no answer, wizard. Speak plainly!" Thane Gregor shouted.

"I have brought into being a new race. The first two now live on the other side of this world. They are protected for now, until they are willing and able to understand their place. Until they are ready to grasp knowledge. I've imbued in them with an important quality called 'doubt'. They will multiply. They will spread. And in the end their doubt will shatter the mere belief that underpins our world. I call them Humans and they will be the end of our Elvin race. They will be the end of Magic and in it's place will be Knowledge, enduring Knowledge. And one day, they will spread this Knowledge to the stars themselves. You can kill me, Thane, you can burn this world to the ground, but their age is now coming and there is nothing you can do to stop it."