I am not affiliated with DC comics or Warner Bros., and thus have no claim to Rorek, Malchior, Starfire, Raven, or Zatanna.

The observant will notice the quotes from the episode "Spellbound" throughout.


Chapter 6

In which my final battle is fought, and I overcome all of the obstacles of my life.

And so it came to pass that I, Rorek of Knol, did lay siege to the dread dragon Malchior.

His castle stood before me, reminding me of the fortress my father used to keep. Its outer wall was solid rock, with four turrets at the corners, and barely any windows. I ventured to the edge, where a stone bridge stood over a great moat. It looked even more frightening in the darkened sky; one did not need to be afraid of water to be scared by this moat. Since I was, only my resolve to face the dragon kept me going.

Just as I started to cross the stone bridge, the moat started to rise! Great volumes of water started to rise in columns, obviously in a supernatural fashion. I would have blasted it aside with relatively little difficulty, had the apparition not terrified me to my core. The columns began to crash down upon the bridge, causing it to crack and crumble. Gathering my wits about me at the last second, I ran for the portcullis at the end of the bridge.

I grabbed onto the grate just as the last column crashed on the bridge, breaking it in two. Hanging on for dear life, I magically commanded the portcullis to open, and it did. I swung down onto a stone-paved road, and continued towards the inner sanctum, where I would most certainly find the creature.

When I finally did reach the gates to the main building, I attempted to push the doors aside, but was thrown back by an invisible force. It was a simple matter to dispose of it, or so I thought. The spell I used to disperse the invisible guardian sapped my strength, no doubt as a trap set by my foe. It took me all of my might to push open the doors.

I started to collapse just short of the main chambers, and my mind wandered to my early childhood, and my father. I remembered how everyone cowered in fear whenever he or I walked through the castle. I remembered the beatings my father gave me when I refused to perform magic. Then, I remembered him saying "You cannot escape who you are, Rorek. This, this power, this great magic, is your destiny. You shall continue what I have started when I am gone."

As I remembered that, I said to myself: "You were wrong, father. I have escaped. I never used my magic to cause suffering, but rather to prevent it! And that is exactly what I'm going to do right now!" As I spoke these words, they gave me the strength to pull myself off the floor and onto my feet. With no further hesitation, I hurled a bolt of white force at the doors before me, and they burst off of their holdings.

Malchior stood before me, at the end of the great hall, crouched where the throne should be. There was fire all around the hallway, adding an ominous glow to all the surroundings. There was also a sign of a brief struggle, evidenced by the bodies of guards that had either been incinerated or ripped to shreds.

His red eyes sighted me across the hall, and betrayed an expression of surprise. I easily understood; he never expected anyone to find him here. And just in case his eyes didn't carry the whole message, he calmly stated "Well, you actually made it. How did you…No matter. You came here to die. And that is what I shall now grant to you: a prolonged death."

With that, red energy poured out of his eyes, and into the floor below me. I leapt off of that particular section of floor just in time, as it erupted where I once stood. As I tumbled, my knapsack was thrown off. I did not care at the time, but rather was more focused on the task at hand. I gathered my energies about me, and shouted "Leventa eldspar mertis!"

Malchior reacted faster than I had intended, using his wings to knock aside all of the pieces of ceiling I threw at him. The resulting dust didn't even get in his eyes. He roared, seemingly just to gloat his indestructibility before his enemy. But as he did, I readied another spell, and cast it with a cry of "Desistar myske cenes!" My white energies wrapped themselves around the horns decorating his head, causing him to roar again, this time in pain.

Despite my success, then was not the time for celebrating, for the great creature quickly recovered. Luckily for me, he was too angry to focus his magics. On the other hand, dragons are all dangerous, even when they don't use magic. Malchior proved this by breathing at me, angered feelings obvious in his eyes.

Mind you, it was a breath of fire, a dragon's most powerful natural weapon. If it were not for a hastily erected mystic shield, I would not be here to tell this tale. He breathed again, but this time I jumped out of the way, throwing an orb of mystic force as I did. It bounced off of him with relatively little damage dealt to him, but just as he was about to recover and attack me, I hurled a bolt of lightning at him. Still, it didn't do much.

I tried to attack him again, but he had snaked his long tail around me, and it crushed the broken pillar I was standing on at the time. I fell to the ground, feeling the bruises, but then I realized that as I fell, I touched his tail briefly. I gleaned a few of his memories from that simple touch, and they were horrid images of witches and wizards being burnt at the stake.

Using those memories as a source of power, and with full knowledge of the forces I was unleashing this time, I shouted "Necronom hesberek MORTIX!" Immense bursts of energy coursed from my hands, absorbing themselves into the stone and wood surroundings we were within. In very little time at all, the entire room around us started to collapse.

The floor directly beneath Malchior gave way first, due to him being a rather large creature. He fell down into the dungeon complex below the castle, screeching as he did. I, meanwhile, grabbed my knapsack and ran for the exit. I summoned numerous magical shields to protect me from falling stones, and eventually made it out. I glanced back at my handiwork, actually pleased with what I had accomplished.

I said to myself: "I hope I have proven my point well enough, father." And with that, I turned away, thinking of how I would now live, without the sin of magic haunting me, how the defeat of Malchior was my last act of magic use…

But it did seem that the power of Malchior was greater than my magics could defeat. For no sooner had I traveled two paces, when a column of fiery rage blasted up through the rubble. I turned back, but could not react in enough time to save myself from being wrapped up in his tail. Red eyes glowing, I heard him say "I will burn you alive, and you will suffer for eternity! There is nothing even God can do to prevent your fate! Only a curse from before my time can defeat me, and you haven't the strength to attempt it!"

He thrashed me around a couple of times, once again throwing my knapsack to the ground, and then I saw something within it that was interesting. An idea forming in my head, I focused on the object within my pack with all of my thoughts…

And as the fell beast struck, I summoned the forces of my enchanted book. The 'gift' from the Skath-worshipers had a use at last. I brought it in front of me with my mystic call, its massive store of energy blocking Malchior's fiery breath without me even saying anything. But that wasn't the intent, for I indeed know what Malchior spoke of.

I channeled the forces contained within the book, shouted "Alduron enlenthranel con sola narisnor!" and with a curse more ancient than dread Malchior himself, I commanded the book to entrap my omnipresent foe.

The book obeyed my commands, releasing its energies around the dragon. Malchior screamed in agony, knowing he would be bound forever to a prison of paper. As he was pulled in, the last thing to go was his head, with which he flamed me one final time. The flames caught my left hand, but despite the pain I kept my focus. Soon the curse was completed, Malchior was forever bound within the book, and I let my consciousness slip away in a triumphant sigh.

Hours later, I awoke, with a large bandage around my left hand. I looked around, and it was a rather simple medicine tent, with me on the only cot. After a few minutes of lying awake, I was greeted by a sight I thought I would never see again: Brother Mark, relief in his eyes. He offered me some food, and said "At last you are awake. I was beginning to believe you would be going straight to heaven, and leave us all behind." I groaned, sat up, and took the broth I was offered.

In minutes, I found my voice once again, and asked him "Where is my book?" Brother Mark revealed that it was under my cot, where it had not moved ever since I was recovered from the ruined castle. I told him of all the events that happened there, and that I hoped to never have to use my magic again, "…For even though it did result in the dragon's defeat, magic is still not the way of Christ."

Brother Mark smiled, and said: "Then you wish to learn how to become a proper Christian at last?" "As I always have, ever since I first heard his name spoken." "Then, God willing, your penitence shall begin as soon as you can move." This brought joy to my heart.

I was able to lift myself from my cot the very next morning, and Brother Mark helped me to a church, where a friendly priest anxiously awaited my arrival. As soon as I was able, I was consulted in my commitment to Christ, and afterwards, the priest absolved me of my sins. Then I was instructed to confess my sins, which I readily listed without hesitation, as I knew what they were throughout my life.

In addition, I was finally baptized. They knew of my fear of water, so they said "Think of something else as we pour the water over your head." This I did, thinking of how far I have come, from simply the child of Serak, heir to suffering, to a hero, and a Christian. As I thought these thoughts, the water was poured over my head, and the priest said "Rorek of Knol, I baptize you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit."

And so I resolved never again to make intentional use of my inherited magic again, for I was now a member of the Roman Catholic Church, and such sin was disliked by those who spoke the word of the Lord.


In which I reveal the fates of everyone involved.

Since that day, many years have gone. I am now married to a beautiful woman known as Zatanna, and she helps me raise our little girl, Abigail, together. Not a day goes by that I am not thankful that Abigail does not possess magic in her blood as well. I believe my penitence has prevented my daughter from inheriting the object of my father's sins.

Brother Mark, as a reward for converting a sinner of such magnitude as me, has been promoted to priesthood himself, now commanding the ability to baptize and absolve the sins of those he meets. We keep in touch regularly.

A new king arose to take Malchior's place. With my help, we were able to confirm he was no dragon.

WARNING! The primary copy of this story is written within the pages of the very book Malchior is imprisoned inside. If this story speaks to you, with a voice audible through your ears, seek out a priest immediately. Holy elements drain his strength, I have found. If he is ever let outside these pages, no one will be able to stop him, for I was the last known user of my variety of magic.

It is on these notes that I end my story. I hope you can take this as an example of the Lord's power to forgive.


Thank you for staying with me for so long!

A few little details I would like to add to 'Spellbound' so I can tie it in with my story: While she was sleeping, Malchior used a charm to make Raven forget about the religious struggles that Rorek went through. (He couldn't afford to have her think that he thought badly of magic, as she was his only way out of the book.)

I did a lot of research on Catholicism before and during this story's writing.

Please review, because I rely solely upon other people for story appraisal! You will never hear me say "Story better than summary" or "Awful, but read anyways."