Age of Sigmar: Omnibus

‘This is news to us all, the work of a rival power. Sigmar of the world gone before.’ Kairos’s eyes closed, and his necks extended upward, heads shaking sinuously back and forth. ‘The godling believes he can oppose Chaos.’

‘Defy that which has already been victorious,’ said the first head.

‘His plans he hid, but his assaults he cannot. He will be challenged soon.’

‘I need more time!’ snarled Ephryx.

‘Ninety-nine more dawns are required to charge the fortress sufficiently to convey it through the Shardgate,’ warned Kairos. ‘Only then will the metal realm be ours to dispose of as we see fit.’

‘They cannot stop the Stormcast Eternals,’ added the second.

‘That is the name of Sigmar’s puppets?’ asked the first.

‘It is,’ said the second.

‘What if, what if…’ said Ephryx. He rubbed his chin and paced the floor. ‘What if it is not more time that I need, but more magic?’

‘A thought,’ said Kairos.

‘But is it a good one?’ asked his other head.

‘When the warriors of Sigmar were slain in Aqshy, they ascended on reversed lightning,’ said Ephryx. His mind was racing. ‘They are not men, these creatures. They are infused with magic.’

‘Good, good!’ said Kairos. ‘Little wizard thinks well. And what is your conclusion?’

‘I can trap their essence — use the power of Sigmar against him. With the power of the storm mine to command.’ Ephryx spread his fingers quickly. ‘It is done!’ He chuckled, a gurgling growl like that made by a frightened cat. ‘Oh, a most delicious irony! Sigmar seeks to take Chamon, but I will use his own weapons to take it from him!’

‘Your own warriors are not enough to stand against them. When they discover the nature of this fortress, they will come against you in great numbers,’ said Kairos. ‘Your magic is modest, and your army weak.’

‘You are right, of course,’ said Ephryx. ‘But I will have support, and the location of the Silver Road will buy it. I will call upon Lord Maerac and King Thrond. Their armies will keep these warriors at bay. They are bored, and desirous of new lands to conquer. The Silver Road offers them an infinity of nations to despoil. It does not matter if they win or lose, so long as they buy the time we need with their blood. Five hundred years it took for Chaos to subjugate this realm. Sigmar will not win it back in a day. When they come against me, these… Stormcast Eternals?’ he asked.

Kairos nodded.

‘They will be weakened. No threat. I will siphon off their magic and complete my… our plan.’

‘You are learning, mortal,’ said Kairos’s first head.

‘Fool,’ said the second.

‘Agreed,’ said the first. ‘But the fool learns.’

Ephryx opened his mouth to protest, but the greater daemon was suddenly gone, leaving nothing but a solitary blue feather drifting to the floor, and a harsh, psittacine smell.

The sorcerer waited a moment. He shut his eyes and opened his mind. Through its weirding sight he appraised the room, seeking any trace of the Lord of Change. This allowed him to see the world as it truly was, a warping, dancing confection of magical flame, bound by natural law into the shapes of matter and energy. But those laws had no jurisdiction over him, and such shapes he could easily unpick. Kairos had gone, off to bother another unfortunate on some other plane of reality.

Ephryx grinned to himself. He was no slave. Kairos grossly underestimated him. He walked towards the wall. A door rippled into existence, and he stepped through onto a delicate balcony that leapt into being in time to catch his footfalls. He looked out towards the valley where the foe gathered. Ephryx had told the daemon he would hold off the storm warriors until they were weakened, but he would do exactly the opposite. If he could lure the Stormcasts to his fort sooner rather than later, the prize he sought to bring before Tzeentch would be his alone to deliver. Let them bring their full strength against him — all the more magic for him to steal. The realm of Chamon would become a part of the Realm of Chaos forever, and he its undisputed king.

There was no need to be modest, thought Ephryx. He was exceedingly clever. He looked across all of Anvrok, Kantrok and Denvrok below. All of this — the sundered lands, the serpents Argentine and Vitryx, the crucible — he would bring before Tzeentch, a gift fit for a god. Then he would be elevated beyond the petty bounds of mortality, made a daemon himself. A gift worthy for one such as he.

Tzeentch would have a new favourite, and Kairos would find out just how weak Ephryx really was.

His fists clenched. The daemon showed him no respect, and for that it would suffer. Always it mocked him, prodded at him, its bored jibes threatening to turn to outright sadism. Yes, Ephryx had had quite enough of Kairos the Oracle.

And he had a plan to humble him.