Highlander University

Immortals arose from the primordial ooze, as did their mortal cousins a world and time away. They didn't know their lives were extraordinarily long, because they never knew death was a part of human existence. Certainly, they killed for food and clothing, but they were so civilized that the thought of doing violence to each other never entered their collective psyche.

Then, one day, a stranger came wandering through. He liked the Immortals and planted his roots among them. He stayed until he grew old and died, which confused and disturbed the friends and acquaintances he had made among the Immortals. They coped, choosing to celebrate his life with song and burning his body when it began to decay. As more people filled the world, other mortals passed through the territory of the Immortals and death became familiar to them. The mortals grew jealous of their long-lived neighbors and plotted against them.

The most nefarious plot was hatched by a young mortal man named Arghus. Arghus had been a cruel boy, given to capturing small animals for experimentation and torture. He grew to know death very well, and one day he captured a young Immortal girl for his amusement. To his amazement, no matter how he abused her, she recovered her health, even from the point of death. Finally, in a fit of rage, he took a blade and beheaded her with all the strength he could muster in a single stroke.

She was dead at last. No healing. No miraculous return to life. Arghus was stunned, then jubilant at his victory. He gathered his friends and showed them the dead body of the girl. By chance, the girl's father K'ston heard of the gathering, and interrupted the morbid celebration of death instigated by her killer and his friends.

He entered the group and laid about him with hands and feet grown deadly with rage. Arghus and his friends were destroyed, and the girl's father sat next to her body and mourned. He wept and wept, and finally left the Immortal territory to seek solace.

In a cave far from home, K'ston met the demon Ahriman, and he begged Ahriman for surcease from his grief.

Ahriman was tired of toying with mortals. They were so easily broken and tossed aside. The Immortals might provide better entertainment, he mused. He made a bargain with K'ston. In return for the entertainment provided by a new Game devised in the nightmares of a demon most dark, K'ston would gain clarity of mind and freedom from grief and conscience for all time. K'ston would be taught the deadliest of weapons and return to the Immortal territory to teach them a new Game of deadly Immortal combat.

Years later, K'ston returned to his home territory and the power of Ahriman was with him. K'ston spoke of the new order of things, defining the Rules, for the first time limiting the lifespan of the Immortals. At first the Immortals were confused and unwilling. Why should they fight? Why would they fight? What was the benefit to death when life was so good? In answer, K'ston cut a path through the Immortals, beheading them at random. As each Immortal died, a surge of power and life force was wrenched from his body and taken into K'ston's own body. The men picked up weapons and the women retreated to protect the children.

K'ston finally tired of the massacre he had created and returned to his home. There K'mella, his wife through the centuries, stood with their youngest children now almost grown. She was not afraid of him, nor were their children. "You made a pact with a demon, K'ston," she said, "but you never consulted me. I was stricken by grief, as well, when our daughter died, but I stayed here to take care of our children, to mourn, to heal. You brought this Game into our lives. Very well. What is done, is done. We are all players now, to the amusement of a demon most powerful, most dark."

K'mella began a chant, calling forth the demon A'swalla, known to aid women in their darkest hours. "A'swalla! You see to what extremities we have been brought by the grief of a single man. A single woman now asks your protection for her children. As long as this Game continues, let no more children be born of the Immortals, to be slain as blood offering to Ahriman."

A'swalla appeared, bathed in the white light of purity and love. Tears shimmered in crystal streams down her face. "I know your grief and how you will suffer. It is a terrible doom brought upon your people, but it was inevitable. True immortality is reserved to those powerful enough to protect themselves from all mischance. The immortality of your people has but a single flaw, discovered by chance by the man who even now dwells among the shades of his victims." The demon held out her hands. "Children there must be, K'mella, else you will die as a people."

K'mella looked at her own children and grieved anew for their lives to come, and their almost inevitable deaths. "Then let our children not be raised by us each but given to mortals to be raised in peace, or as much peace as may be. Let them not know their long life until first death, and give each a teacher to show him the way, to teach him the Rules of this awful Game in which we are now engaged."

A'swalla nodded. "It is fair, but the Game must have an end."

From his seat, K'ston spoke. Freed from conscience. Freed from grief and pain by his master Ahriman, he prophesied, "The Game will end when our people tire of their long lives of battle and death. The last two will join in one final battle and the winner will regain a life of peace and the joy of children."

Ahriman appeared in a storm of red smoke, power seething about him in wicked coils. "So be it. Because mortals struck the first blow against Immortals, let the last remaining Immortal rule this world for a thousand years. A fitting Prize for this Game, think you not, my dear?"

A'swalla nodded gently and faded from view. Ahriman looked at his Immortal prophet, the man who would father no more children, but be anonymously the father of a most terrifying Game. "Go now," the demon ordered. "I would be amused."