The End of the Demon Wars

The demons killed everything. No bird flew in ashen skies. No fish swam in oily, black waters. The last few survivors huddled in ever smaller groups, hungry and plague-ridden. The most desperate of times cried out for a hero. His name was Jalkon. Jalkon was short of stature, but strong-limbed. He had fought the demons at Keilrath, and again at Sarandath, where he lost an eye. He fought at Trianth when they drove the hordes back, allowing the children to flee.

Although Jalkon had only one eye, he could see as well as any man. Indeed, with his missing eye he could see much that ordinary men were ignorant of. While mortal men lived entirely in this world, he explained, the demons, like the gods, lived partially in a higher realm. A realm into which Jalkon could now see.

At first, Jalkon did not know whast to do with his new knowledge. Although he could see the higher realm, he could not touch it. Jalkon became obsessed with finding a means to reach the other side, and made many trials. Eventually, Weyleith the Smith showed him the way. Together they forged bright Alweil, a sword of star-fall iron and blessed silver.

Thereafter, Jalkon fought in a manner that many initially considered mad. But, although he often sliced the air above a demon's head, or smote the ground beneath their feet, with every stroke a demon was destroyed. More, wherever Alweil cleaved, the demonic power was lessened, until Jalkon was able to bar the hordes from the camps entirely.

Even so, Jalkon could not protect everyone. The camps were too scattered, and many survivors hid elsewhere, unable to reach their fellow men. Even if the world had not been too broken to provide food, no one could safely farm or hunt.

Jalkon had fought the demons since he was old enough to wield a sword, and he thought as a warrior. He proposed a warrior's solution. Leading a small band, he set out to cut the demons where they were strongest. Following circuitous routes long abandoned by man and demon alike, Jalkon sought a distant mountain around whose shoulders he had once spied a brilliant glow, like fifty suns at noon.

That mountain is lost to us now, for the world has changed since those days. Jalkon found it, the summit lost in a blinding haze that his companions could not see. All could see the infernal horde that spewed from every crevice. Jalkon had reached his goal, and discovered the vile fountain from which the demons drew their power.

Subtlety was of little use to the heroes now. Ash and fume blotted the sun from the sky, and to demon sight gloomy noon and the blackest night appeared alike. Ten thousand monsters stood between the band and its goal, making discovery certain. So, Jalkon and his followers raced forward in loose formation, cutting a path towards the summit.

Soon, only Jalkon remained standing, but by then he had climbed the shoulders of the mountain, and sprang swiftly upwards. Ahead, the demons parted, leaving Jalkon a clear route. Unassailed, he reached the summit. Awaiting him there was the most hideous of monsters, standing forty feet at its hunched shoulders, clawed and scaled like some perverse insect.

"Fool," smirked the infernal lord. "Though it has taken great courage and power to reach my abode, I can break your body before your little toy can cut me once."

Jalkon returned the demon's smile. Quietly, he said "It is not you I intend to cut." Then Jalkon thrust Alwein deep into the rock beneath his feet, severing the peak from the mountain. Swiftly turning the blade, he completed the arc, forever seperating our world from the higher plane. When Jalkon had finished, only the narrow bridge on which he stood connected the two realms. There he stands still, keeping his eternal, timeless vigil.

Deprived of the other side, the demons collapsed, for it is to them as air is for us. Within the hour, all were destroyed. However, the world's troubles did not end. Jalkon's vision no longer showed him the difference between gods and demons, so he would allow neither to pass. Without the gods, the sun could not rise, and the moon could not turn. Crops did not grow, and animals would not breed.

Ulweithandos discovered how to cross Jalkon's bridge. Instead of approaching in his full glory, the god sent just his smallest breeze, winding around the hero's feet. Jalkon did not notice, and in this form Ulweithandos was able to enter the world. Soon people felt his caress on their cheeks, and knew hope.

Ulweithandos taught his trick to the other gods, who swiftly discovered manifestations which could pass over the bridge. The world returned to life, and the people were grateful to the little wind god. To this day, his name is honoured, and Ulweithandos' first breeze is known to be the herald of a new spring.