Tyrael nodded. "After Brennor fell and you stayed behind, I had to see what you would do. You should be proud; you've rid the world of a great evil."
Siggard tried to smile, but he found he just couldn't feel happy. "I've been thinking about some things. My missing days, my lack of appetite, how I was untroubled by wounds during the battle, those sorts of things."
Tyrael sat down on a rock and pursed his lips. "And?"
"Assur's glyph was absolute, wasn't it? No living hand could slay him."
"That is true."
Siggard wrapped his cloak around him and tried to stave off a chill. "When did I die, then?" "At Blackmarch," Tyrael replied. "You were stabbed in the back by a Hidden during the last crush of the battle. The blade sheared through your mail-coat and slew you."
"And Heaven brought me back," Siggard added.
Tyrael shook his head. "No, we didn't. You did that all by yourself."
"I don't understand."
Tyrael leaned forward. "Very rarely, perhaps but twice in ten millennia, there is a soul so full of life that death cannot claim it. I have seen it only once before. All I did was direct you to where you could do some good. Your timing, I am pleased to say, was excellent."
"Am I a ghost then, or a ghoul?"
"No," Tyrael replied thoughtfully. "It is difficult to say what you are. Death cannot claim you, but neither can life. You are trapped in between, until you find some way to rest your incredible vitality. And then, perhaps, death will find you."
"I suppose now that I've avenged my family, I can rest," Siggard said. "That's the way the ghost stories go, isn't it?"
Tyrael shook his head sadly. "You will not find your rest through revenge, no matter how hard you try. Vengeance is an act of hatred, and hatred never brings peace. No, if you are to discover some peace, you must do it through an act of love. I think you will find it, although it may take you centuries."
"Lovely," Siggard grumbled.
"Do not feel too badly about it," Tyrael said. "The way I see it, you have a choice. You can search for some act of love that will bring you peace, or wander the earth and help us in our fight against Hell." The archangel leaned back and regarded Siggard warmly. "You have quite a gift, you know. The only hand that could possibly still your heart is your own. This was but one battle in a much larger war. The Prime Evils now want dominion over the mortal realms, and they will continue to seek it. You would be an ideal soldier against them."
"It is a great deal to think about," Siggard said.
Tyrael smiled and began to fade away. "Do not worry," his voice echoed. "You have all the time in the world. May the light go with you, my friend."
Siggard sat for a while, considering. Then he stood, stretched, and began to walk back towards Earl Tilgar and his men. He had a long road ahead of him, but at least he knew his first destination.
EPILOGUE
Who can see the plans of Heaven or Hell?
Do not seek to know the unknowable, for fate will
reveal all when the time is right.
The destruction of the archdemon Assur at Brennor in the year 302 would prove to be one of the most significant early victories of the Sin War, and the lands of Entsteig remained untroubled by the forces of Hell for at least two centuries afterwards.
Earl Tilgar reclaimed the town and destroyed the few demonic forces that had survived Assur's death. In the following years, after weathering a devastating famine that cost many lives, he founded the dynasty that ruled Entsteig until the capture and binding of the Prime Evils themselves, some six hundred years later.
Sarnakyle traveled in the western lands for another five years, finally returning to Kehjistan and leading the Vizjerei back into the practice of elemental magic. His death is not recorded, as twenty years after returning to his homeland, he again began to wander, and never returned. He was remembered as "the Red Wizard," and to this day the Vizjerei believe that in a time of great troubles he will come back to lead them.
Siggard remained with Earl Tilgar for several years to help rebuild Brennor. He then began to roam the world, fighting in many of the battles of the Sin War. It was said that he fought in battle after battle over the centuries, although what is truth and what is the bards' fiction is impossible to tell. After some five hundred years, however, he disappears from the sagas and epics. Whether Siggard finally found his peace or just grew tired of the conflict, none can say.
However, it is still held among the Entsteigians that if one goes to the ruins of a certain village on the Night of Souls, one will see a lonely figure standing a silent vigil in the mist, seeking a glimpse of loved ones long gone to dust.
AFTERWORD
This has been a very involved book, and I could not have done it alone. There are dozens of people to thank, from composers and authors who have provided inspiration over the years to the editor and agent who have helped me secure this opportunity. There are eight people who deserve special mention, however: Marco Palmieri, the editor at Pocket Books who gave me the chance, Jennifer Jackson, the agent who took me on, and the six tolerant souls who read the pre-submission draft and gave me some very helpful comments-Frances Maxwell, Trudy A. Goold, Arlene Marks, Gordon Brown, David Marks, and Dennis McKiernan.
Somehow, though, I never figured that I'd start my professional writing career with a Diablo book. But here I am, and proud to be here.
The world of Diablo is one of those magical places that grabs you. The game itself was a dungeon romp, with some nice side-quests to keep things interesting. When everybody was playing cooperatively, the multiplayer game was the best I'd ever seen. But it wasn't even the multiplayer game play that stood out the most; rather, it was the incredible and vast mythology behind the world.
The Diablo mythos is an epic one. It is a world where the forces of Heaven and Hell war on the mortal plane, and where mankind stands with them is never entirely clear. It is a deeply religious mythology, based on the war between Satan and God in the Anglo-Saxon book of Genesis. And, as such, it is a background where one can deal with moral, philosophical, and theological issues.
To be quite blunt, it is a joy to be able to write in this wonderful, but extremely dark realm. Unlike many other licensed worlds, where so little is left to the imagination that an author feels fettered, this one is wondrous and terrifying, with plenty of nooks and crannies to explore.
And, to be the author of the very first piece of Diablo fiction is an immense honor. Along with that honor, however, comes a deep responsibility. The first author must set a tone for the overall series, filling out bits and pieces of the world where necessary, and maintaining both the terror and wonder. The first story must present the world in such a way that the reader wants to come back, no matter who is telling the story.
I have tried to make this the best book possible, and I think it is one I can be proud of. I hope that those who read this will want to return once more to this amazing world where demons and angels walk among mortal men.
Robert B. Marks
September 2000