IN THIS DREADED "FOURTH PHASE," ANIMAL HUSBANDRY WAS ON THE BRINK OF COLLAPSE. AGRICULTURE WAS ALREADY A THING OF THE PAST, AND NOW THE FIGHT WAS FOR SURVIVAL. GREENHOUSES AND ARTIFICIAL FARMING MIGHT OFFER A TEMPORARY REPRIEVE, BUT SCORMETHEUS KNEW THE TRUTH: THE SOLUTIONS THEY HAD RELIED ON WERE NOTHING MORE THAN STOPGAPS.
"ALL OUR CURRENT TECHNOLOGY DEPENDS ON THE PHILOSOPHER'S STONE," HE THOUGHT, FRUSTRATION BOILING BENEATH HIS CALM EXTERIOR. "IF THE NATURAL FOOD CHAIN COLLAPSES COMPLETELY, RELYING ON BARRIER TECHNOLOGIES AND INCREASING OUR CONSUMPTION OF STONES WILL ONLY ACCELERATE THE INEVITABLE. WE'LL ONLY END UP PRODUCING MORE STONES, HASTENING THE VERY DOOMSDAY WE'RE TRYING TO AVOID."
SCORMETHEUS'S WORK HAD BEEN DISMISSED BY THE ELDERS, BUT THE REALITY UNFOLDING BEFORE HIM NOW WAS A TESTAMENT TO THE ACCURACY OF HIS PREDICTIONS. THE SMALLER WORLDS HE HAD EXPERIMENTED ON WERE INCHING EVER CLOSER TO TOTAL COLLAPSE, AND THEY MIRRORED THE FATE OF THE MAIN PLANE. ARMED WITH THIS KNOWLEDGE, SCORMETHEUS PREPARED HIMSELF FOR WHAT LAY AHEAD, IF HE COULD NOT PREVENT THE COLLAPSE, HE COULD AT LEAST BUY ENOUGH TIME TO GIVE THE WORLD ONE LAST CHANCE.
DESPITE HIS MASTERY OVER NATURE, SCORMETHEUS FOUND HIMSELF AT A LOSS. THE DOOMSDAY CLOCK, WHICH HAD ALWAYS SEEMED TO TICK SLOWLY IN THE BACKGROUND, WAS NOW RACING FORWARD AT AN ALARMING PACE. EVEN WITH ALL HIS FORESIGHT, EVEN WITH ALL HIS KNOWLEDGE, HE FELT A CREEPING SENSE OF CONFUSION, AND WORSE, DESPAIR.
"THE SOUL WINDS ARE GROWING TOO STRONG," SCORMETHEUS MURMURED, HIS VOICE TINGED WITH FRUSTRATION. "THEY'LL WIPE OUT CROPS AND PASTURES FASTER THAN WE CAN PREDICT. ENTIRE TRIBES WILL BE SCRAMBLING TO SECURE FOOD FOR THE WINTER."
THE BLINDING FLASHES OF "DAYLIGHT" THAT HAD BEGUN TO APPEAR IN THE SKY WERE SUPPOSED TO BE RARE, A SIGN OF EXCESSIVE ENERGY ABSORPTION AFTER DECADES OF MISUSE. BUT NOW, THESE DESTRUCTIVE PHENOMENA HAD BECOME A DAILY OCCURRENCE. BY HIS CALCULATIONS, THESE EVENTS SHOULD HAVE BEEN CENTURIES AWAY, YET WAR HAD ACCELERATED EVERYTHING.
SCORMETHEUS COULDN'T ESCAPE THE COLD REALITY: THE ENDLESS DEMAND FOR PHILOSOPHER'S STONES HAD PUSHED THE ALCHEMY TOWER INTO CONSTANT OVERDRIVE, DRAWING MORE POWER THAN THE LAND COULD GIVE. THE VEINS OF THE EARTH, THE LIFEBLOOD OF THE WORLD, WERE BEING DRAINED DRY, AND WITH EACH PASSING DAY, THE INEVITABLE COLLAPSE LOOMED CLOSER.
IN SOME REGIONS, SCORMETHEUS HAD ALREADY SEEN SIGNS OF THE FIFTH STAGE OF DOOMSDAY: THE ARRIVAL OF BEINGS FROM OTHER WORLDS.
"THE VEINS OF THE EARTH ARE THE BLOOD VESSELS OF OUR WORLD," SCORMETHEUS WHISPERED, HIS BROW FURROWED IN CONCERN. "WITHOUT BLOOD, THE BODY WEAKENS. THE WORLD'S BARRIERS WILL FAIL, AND DISEASES, BOTH OF THIS WORLD AND FROM OTHERS, WILL FLOOD IN. WORSE YET, ALIEN CREATURES WILL BREAK THROUGH, AND WE WILL BE DEFENSELESS."
THE ELVES HAD ALWAYS FOCUSED THEIR RESEARCH ON THE MAIN PLANE, HESITANT TO EXPAND INTO THE SECONDARY PLANES. THEIR HESITATION WASN'T BORN FROM DISINTEREST, BUT FROM FEAR. IN PAST EXPEDITIONS, THEY HAD ENCOUNTERED POWERFUL, HOSTILE CREATURES, PAYING DEARLY FOR THEIR AMBITION. WHETHER THE ARRIVAL OF THESE ALIEN BEINGS WAS CAUSED BY THE ELVES' INTERFERENCE, OR WHETHER THESE CREATURES HAD ALWAYS HAD THEIR EYES ON THE MAIN PLANE, WAS UNCLEAR. WHAT WAS CLEAR, HOWEVER, WAS THAT THEY WERE HERE NOW, AND THEY BROUGHT NO GOODWILL.
REPORTS OF STRANGE, HOSTILE CREATURES BEGAN FLOODING IN FROM DIFFERENT REGIONS. THE ELVES' ANXIETY GREW, AND AS FEAR SPREAD, SO DID THE CALLS FOR WAR. THE HIGH-RANKING OFFICIALS, ONCE CAUTIOUS, WERE NOW DESPERATE, PUSHING AGGRESSIVELY FOR CONFLICT.
SCORMETHEUS SIGHED, HIS THOUGHTS DRIFTING TO HIS FATHER, A FIGURE OF IMMENSE INFLUENCE AND POWER. IS THIS WHAT YOU WANTED, FATHER? THE QUESTION LINGERED IN HIS MIND, BITTER AND UNRESOLVED.
HIS MEMORIES TOOK HIM BACK TO THE COUNCIL CHAMBER, WHERE YEARS AGO, PLANS FOR "DISCIPLINING AND ADJUSTING THE ENTIRE WORLD" HAD BEEN LAID OUT. SCORMETHEUS HAD BEEN INCREDULOUS.
"WAR? YOU CALL THIS A WAR FOR PEACE? HAVE YOU ALL LOST YOUR MINDS?" HE HAD ASKED, HIS VOICE RISING WITH FRUSTRATION.
THE PLAN HAD BEEN FRAMED AS A NOBLE CAUSE, A WAY TO ADVANCE CIVILIZATION, TO BRING ORDER TO CHAOS. BUT SCORMETHEUS SAW THROUGH THE FAÇADE. IT WASN'T ABOUT PEACE; IT WAS ABOUT CONTROL. "THIS ISN'T ABOUT PROGRESS. YOU JUST WANT TO RULE THE WORLD, TO MAKE THE ELVES THE SOLE POWER."
HE HADN'T BEEN THE ONLY ONE WITH FORESIGHT. OTHER ELVES HAD ALSO SENSED THE IMPENDING DISASTER. BUT IN THE YEARS LEADING UP TO THE WAR, THE POPULATION HAD GROWN EXPONENTIALLY, AT LEAST FIVE TIMES ITS ORIGINAL SIZE, WHILE THE LAND AND RESOURCES REMAINED THE SAME. IT WAS ONLY A MATTER OF TIME BEFORE SOMEONE PROPOSED WAR AS A SOLUTION.
"YOU THINK WAR WILL SOLVE ALL OUR PROBLEMS," SCORMETHEUS HAD ARGUED. "MORE LAND, MORE RESOURCES, THAT'S WHAT YOU'RE AFTER. AND ONCE YOU HAVE IT, YOU THINK YOU'LL JUST 'ADJUST' THINGS, BAN THE OVERUSE OF THE ALCHEMY TOWER, AND EVERYTHING WILL BE FINE? DO YOU REALLY BELIEVE THAT?"
HE HAD PLEADED WITH HIS FATHER. "WE CAN STOP THIS. WE SHOULD STOP THIS. IF WE SHUT DOWN SEVENTY PERCENT OF THE ALCHEMY TOWERS NOW, IF WE REDUCE OUR RELIANCE ON THE PHILOSOPHER'S STONE, WE CAN STILL STABILIZE THINGS. YES, WE'LL LOSE SOME OF OUR POPULATION OVER THE NEXT HUNDRED YEARS, BUT AT LEAST WE'LL HAVE A HEALTHY CYCLE TO SUSTAIN US."
BUT HIS FATHER HAD REMAINED RESOLUTE. WAR, HE BELIEVED, WAS THE ANSWER.
"I KNOW WHAT YOU'RE THINKING," SCORMETHEUS HAD SAID BITTERLY. "YOU THINK THE OTHER TRIBES ARE UNCIVILIZED, EASY TARGETS. THAT VICTORY WILL BE QUICK, CLEAN. BUT EVEN IF WE WIN, EVEN IF WE CONQUER THE ENTIRE MAIN PLANE, DO YOU REALLY BELIEVE THAT WILL STOP THE ALCHEMY TOWERS FROM DRAINING THE EARTH'S VEINS? ONCE YOU TASTE VICTORY, YOU'LL WANT MORE. YOUR PEOPLE WILL WANT MORE. AND WHAT THEN?"
SCORMETHEUS'S VOICE HAD GROWN COLD WITH ANGER. "YOU SAY THE ELVES ARE A KIND AND NOBLE RACE, THAT WE'LL TREAT THE CONQUERED TRIBES WITH COMPASSION. BUT I'VE SEEN WHAT HAPPENS. I KNOW THEY'LL BE FED INTO THE ALCHEMY TOWERS AS FUEL. YOU DON'T CARE ABOUT THEM, YOU NEVER DID. BUT HAVE YOU THOUGHT ABOUT WHAT COMES NEXT? ONCE YOU'VE TURNED THE OTHER RACES INTO PHILOSOPHER'S STONES, WHO WILL YOU CONQUER NEXT?"
HE HAD PAUSED, THE WEIGHT OF HIS WORDS SINKING IN. "ARE YOU READY FOR THE CIVIL WAR THAT WILL FOLLOW? BECAUSE MAKE NO MISTAKE, ONCE THERE'S NO ONE LEFT TO FIGHT, THE ELVES WILL TURN ON THEMSELVES. AND WHEN THAT HAPPENS, NOTHING WILL BE LEFT OF THIS WORLD BUT RUINS."
SCORMETHEUS'S FATHER HAD REFUSED TO LISTEN, AND NOW, AS THE WORLD SPIRALED TOWARD ITS DOOM, SCORMETHEUS COULD SEE THE TRUTH OF HIS WORDS PLAYING OUT. THE WAR WASN'T BRINGING PEACE, IT WAS ONLY HASTENING THE END.
"ENOUGH!"
THE WORDS ECHOED ACROSS THE CHAMBER AS THE AIR THICKENED WITH TENSION. THE MEETING WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A STRATEGIC DISCUSSION ABOUT THE LOOMING WAR, BUT SCORMETHEUS, ALWAYS UNYIELDING, HAD GONE TOO FAR THIS TIME. HIS FATHER'S PATIENCE SNAPPED, AND THE REPERCUSSIONS WERE SWIFT. SCORMETHEUS FOUND HIMSELF PUSHED TO THE MARGINS OF THE COUNCIL, HIS VOICE DROWNED OUT BY THE SILENCE THAT FOLLOWED HIS BOLD TRUTHS.
SCORMETHEUS'S OFFENSE? TELLING THE TRUTH THAT NO ONE WANTED TO HEAR.
HE STOOD UP, GAZE UNWAVERING, HIS VOICE CALM BUT CHARGED WITH CONVICTION. "I'M NOT HERE TO INSULT ANYONE'S INTELLIGENCE. BY NOW, YOU CAN ALL SEE IT CLEARLY. WE'RE ALL ABOARD A STEAM LOCOMOTIVE THAT'S SPEEDING TOWARDS A CLIFF. JUMPING OFF NOW WILL HURT, BUT STAYING ON MEANS CERTAIN DOOM. IF WE DON'T ACT, WE'RE ALL GOING OVER."
HE SCANNED THE ROOM, DARING ANYONE TO CHALLENGE HIM. "YOU SAY WE WON'T FIGHT A CIVIL WAR? LET'S NOT FOOL OURSELVES. WAR IS ALWAYS ABOUT DRAWING LINES, DECIDING WHO GETS WHAT, WITH LIMITED RESOURCES. NOW YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT TAKING LAND FROM OTHER RACES. BUT ONCE THEY'RE GONE, WHO DRAWS THE LINE BETWEEN US? WHEN THERE'S NOTHING LEFT BUT ELVES, WHO DECIDES WHO DESERVES TO SURVIVE?"
HIS WORDS CUT THROUGH THE ROOM LIKE A BLADE. "AND WHAT ABOUT THE TECHNOLOGY YOU'VE EMBRACED? RIPPING SOULS FROM THE EARTH, TRAPPING THEM FOR POWER, DO YOU REALLY BELIEVE THAT CAN END WELL? YOU SAY TECHNOLOGY ITSELF IS NEUTRAL, NEITHER GOOD NOR EVIL, BUT IF USING IT RISKS WIPING OUT ENTIRE SPECIES, IS THAT NOT EVIL BY DEFAULT?"
THE OTHER ELVEN PRINCES AND NOBLES SAT IN SILENCE. THEY WEREN'T OBLIVIOUS TO SCORMETHEUS'S WARNINGS. MANY HAD THEIR OWN DOUBTS ABOUT THIS RECKLESS NEW MAGIC, THIS DANGEROUS SOUL-HARVESTING. BUT THEY CLUNG TO THEIR CONFIDENCE, BELIEVING THEY COULD CONTROL IT, THAT THEY WOULD FIND ANOTHER WAY OUT BEFORE CATASTROPHE STRUCK.
AN ELDER PRINCE BROKE THE SILENCE, VOICE FILLED WITH STUBBORN PRIDE. "AN ELVEN CIVIL WAR? IT WON'T HAPPEN. NOT WHILE I'M STILL BREATHING."
THE WORDS RANG OUT, LOUD ENOUGH FOR THE ENTIRE ELVEN CAPITAL TO HEAR. IT WAS AS IF THE OLD MAN'S RAGE HAD BEEN CHANNELED INTO THAT SINGLE DECLARATION. THE "DOOMSAYER," AS SCORMETHEUS HAD COME TO BE KNOWN, HAD STRUCK A NERVE. HIS GRIM PREDICTION, THAT EVEN IF THEY WON THE WAR, A CIVIL WAR AMONG THE ELVES WAS INEVITABLE, HAD INFURIATED HIS FATHER, THE REVERED "SAGE."
BUT DEEP DOWN, SCORMETHEUS KNEW HIS FATHER WASN'T JUST ANGRY BECAUSE OF THE WORDS. IT WAS BECAUSE THE SAGE HAD SEEN THE SAME FUTURE. HE JUST COULDN'T BEAR TO FACE IT.