Final Rest

A man stood at the top of a tall tower looking down across the world. Wind blowing through his long hair. The tower stood a mile high, and also expanded five miles under the surface. It was filled with traps of every kind, and had hundreds of soldiers, automatons designed to defend it to their last. Even if they failed they would be reborn later. The man knew how his resting place would work. When he died and his treasure and powers were placed in the tower it would vanish into the void, where it would remain until it ran low on power, at which point it would return to a random plane of existence. Of course, the denizens of such a realm will covet his power and attack, that was why he had designed so many traps. His treasure must be protected so that only those he chose could ever gain his power. Those that he would grant gifts before they even entered the tower.

He was looking across his realm one last time before he left this world for good most likely. The chances that his tower would return home were next to none. His only hope was that he would find a suitable successor who could hold his power and would use it to defend others and not for personal gain. As he turned away from the edge of the window he found Dimi, the one automaton he had given enhanced intelligence, standing at the top of the stairs. Dimi worked as the chief of the automatons, designating tasks and coming up with battle strategies. The man followed Dimi down the central stairs to the very bottom of the tower, deep in the depths where he would lay himself to rest, and where Dimi would transfer his soul into the tower so that he could make his last choice of who his successor would be.

The room was large, a stone coffin in the center with a large crystal hanging directly above it, all around were magic circles, layers of them. He looked over each one making sure they were all flawless. If there was even a single flaw it could bring his whole future down on top of him. He must make sure a worthy successor is found. Finally having finished reviewing the circles he had drawn many years earlier, he looked to the coffin then to Dimi.

"Are you prepared to perform your duties Dimi?"

"Of course Master, I am as you made me."

The man stepped forward and climbed into the coffin. He could feel his body failing, he really did stretch this out as long as he could.

"Begin Extraction."

A lid materialized above his head and everything went dark for the man. Outside Dimi was on a stage off to the side, he had pulled a lever at his masters orders and begun the process. Dimi stared emotionlessly as his master's life was drained away and poured into the crystal that served as the heart of the tower. He gazed at the circles around the coffin that now glowed a beautiful purple showing that they were filled with magic, every rune in each ring shone brighter than the last.

When the rings finally darkened he pulled a second lever. The floor underneath the coffin lowered beneath the ground. When it stopped a strange viscous blue liquid filled the hole until it was level with the floor. Then in a bright flash of light it solidified. Dimi walked down to the floor to see his master one last time. Beneath a clear blue glass the coffin could be seen, an inscription across the top that read, 'The last true king of the Malori, the race of gods' They had always prided themselves on their strength compared to the rest of the realms. No one came close, they were all weak in comparison. His master had been the strongest, and with his death the Malori line ended, leaving only weak half-breeds. This tower would be the last, it was his master's hope that it would find an heir to continue their line, though all past attempts had either failed or were failing. Their cores crumbling to dust after their millennia of searching. Not one ever finding another realm suitable for the continuation of their line.

Dimi turned and walked towards the door. Soon the Tower would enter the void for the first time, and there was much that needed to be prepared before that happened. Closing the door as he left he pressed his hand against the very center, immediately a circle began glowing along with hundreds of runes. He turned and walked away as behind him the door faded away to stone and left no marking that it was ever there. His first task was activating the traps. All the guards knew how to avoid them, it had been built into their mind at creation. Any misstep would mean total annihilation, the traps were designed to kill beings many times stronger than he or any of his guards were, though they were strong in their own rights. He had never seen the treasure they were guarding and only knew what his master had told him, that it was the most precious and powerful thing known to the realms. Finally reaching the control room he began manipulating various levers and buttons. Enabling the floors traps one by one. He would have to navigate them to reach the top where he and the guards would reside. They were to stop the unworthy from entering. If they would die they would be regenerated in time. He felt nothing at the prospect of death. Death meant nothing to an automaton. As he climbed towards the barracks he could feel the pull of mana as they were drawn into the void.

The void was the one place where the river of magic was supposed to flow freely from the well of magic, though its connection had long since been cut. The well of magic was the source of all magic, and the river that flowed from it was drying up, after the well had it's connection severed near the beginning of time. Legends told of another race of beings that had a direct connection to the magic that flowed from the well, beings who could not survive without it and could perform miracles with their power, but they had long since faded from sight. With the source cut off their life drained and they passed away slowly. However, the Malori still wished to find a successor, and to find a race willing to take on the burden of shepherding the realms, keeping them safe from the lost realms where demons reside.