Tenebroum

Chapter 171: Almost Done

Oroza had no idea how long she waited there in that Stygian place. To her, that island had not seemed like the afterlife, but this was close to her version of hell. The heat radiated from the forges, making the dark air ripple, and the sound of hammering never ended. She didn’t think it could take too long to make a sword, and indeed, it didn’t.

The All-Father’s first attempt took perhaps a day or two from the time he poured the silvery metal into the mold until he had finished hammering, honing, and quenching the blade. However, each time he completed these steps, he found some small flaw that made him melt the thing back down to try again. Each time, it was something different: an asymmetry, a crack, or even a balance problem would be enough to scrap the project and start again, no matter what stage of work had been completed.

That was part of the hell, too. Watching the futility of it all. Ghostly dwarven servants rushed around doing this and that and bringing the All-Father whatever he required, but inevitably, the giant man would mutter, “No, no, no - this will never do,” and toss it back in the crucible to start all over again.

More than anything, Oroza wanted to leave. He can keep my scales, she thought to herself. She couldn’t, though. She didn’t know why this was important, but it clearly was. So, no matter how miserable she was, she could hardly quit part-way through. Instead, she suffered in silence, glad that lingering at death's door as she was, at least, that she felt neither hunger nor thirst.

Still, as the weeks and perhaps even months dragged by, she watched the progress. Eventually, the blade forging process was refined, and the temperatures were adjusted until they were always perfect. The edge came faster; it was a gleaming rivulet of silver so sharp that it looked like it was practically made of liquid itself, which pleased her. The project looked to be on the verge of completion as a pommel and handle were attached. It was only when the time came to carve the runes into the flat of the blade.

These at least did not need to be done multiple times, but they were done with all the care of a jeweler setting tiny stones into a delicate ring. So, the process seemed to take forever. In the end, their efforts were beautiful but completely illegible to her. The structure was a series of entangled rectilinear knots that had no meaning to her beyond the fact that they were identical on both sides of the blade.

When that was done, Oroza worried they’d spend another eternity inlaying jewels in the pommel or some other unnecessary step. The battle could be finished before he’s forged a single blade, she thought bitterly. No wonder the Gods were defeated by that monster. They can’t manage to work together on anything, but the Lich is of one mind on anything.

Oroza said nothing to vent her frustrations, but only because it would have slowed down the process even more. Fortunately, aside from the runes, which seemed to be functional rather than merely decorative, the blade was a plain thing and the scabbard they gave her to hold it even more so. The dwarven god had spent forever on the unique, silvery metal of the blade, but the wire wound pommel and the scabbard had been done in only a few hours each. The result was that she was surprised when a ghost suddenly brought her the weapon wrapped in an oilcloth parcel and sealed in wax.

“The blade is finished,” the All-Father pronounced with finality. “You may tell the lady Lunaris that I have done my part, as promised.”

“But do not open it,” the god said, pointing his giant hammer at her. “Not until you are on the moon. The metal is still too brittle, and it should not be exposed to the air until she infuses it with light.”

Oroza didn’t know what that meant or why it should matter. So, she didn’t ask him about that. Instead, she thanked the All-Father for his hard work and then turned and started back the way she came.

The walk back was another short eternity, and if she hadn’t marked her way by scratching the walls at critical junctures, it was possible she might have gotten lost forever. Instead, once she reached the underwater tunnels, she transformed back into her threadbare river dragon form, and then, taking the small parcel gently in her mouth, she swam the rest of the way to the surface.

From there, the way to the moon was long and well-known. She would have preferred to swim to it from the reflection of her own river, but the ocean would do. Unfortunately, since it was so dim, she had to circle anxiously just beneath the surface while she waited for the waning sliver to peek out from behind the clouds.

Honestly, she couldn’t remember the last time it had been bright now that she was thinking about it. Still, it wasn’t until she swam deep enough into the sky that the clouds had passed her by and the moon was in full view that she even started to understand the problem.

On every other trip into the sky, she’d traveled toward a bright full moon that, except for a few craters and scars of ancient celestial battles, was a pure ivory orb hanging there in the sky. That was no longer the case.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Where once the moon had been covered by endless plains, now its shadowy surface seemed to be dominated by mountains. It was only when Oroza got close enough that she could just make out Lunaris’ palace that she understood those were not mountains at all. Instead, they were some kind of ugly venous growth that reminded her of cancer more than anything. It was a new feature, and a particularly evil-looking one that couldn’t be ignored as the tattered river dragon swam ever closer to the moon’s surface.

When did this happen? What could have done it? Oroza wondered. She wouldn’t have to wonder for too long, though. If the Moon goddess was still alive, then Oroza could ask her again and soon.

It turned out that Lunaris was, in fact, where she often sat in the albino gardens of her miniature palace. The terrible monstrosity that was devouring the moon had undermined and collapsed the coliseum that Oroza had visited several times before, but it had not reached this place or disturbed its peace.

“So you’ve come at last then,” the pale woman said with a wan smile as Oroza entered her field of view. She had seen better days. She looked as thin and frail as Oroza had been before she swam out to see to die.

“My lady… what happened to you?” Oroza asked. The only response she received, though, was for Oroza to pat a spot on the white grass beside her.

“Mortality comes for us all,” the Mood Goddess said cryptically. “It is only the immortals that it surprises. You should know. You’ve died rather recently yourself.”

“It was my time,” Oroza said, surprised to find she felt at peace with it. “But you… without Siddrim, the world needs you more than ever. How could this have happened?”

“A glancing blow that digs deeper every day,” Lunaris sighed. “The darkness poisons everything it touches. That is all you need to know. Do not worry for me, child. I have already picked a successor, and when the time comes and the moon finally crumbles to dust, something new will rise in its place.”

“But—” Oroza protested.

“It is just not my time yet,” the Moon Goddess said dismissively. “I have things I must do yet, like guard against the outer darkness and give your blade the last of my light.”

“Lunaris, please,” the River Goddess said, casting the oilcloth bundle aside. “You must save your strength.”

The older woman smiled, gesturing broadly at the dark sky. “I cannot save what I do not have. My strength has been spent long ago. Now, all I can do is hold on a little longer.”

Oroza looked up. This wasn’t the first time she’d beheld the stars from such a distance. Here, she could see the web of warding lines that stretched between each star in a given constellation. From the ground far below, the stars appeared to twinkle, but here she could see that they were writhing or perhaps fighting. The lights were vaguely inhuman shapes, but with the moon so dim, for the first time, it was possible to see what it was they were fighting against.

The River Goddess’s mind balked for a moment as she tried to take it all in. Past the invisible lines of magic that held the stars in their places, defending the world, there was a writhing and undifferentiated mass of shadowy forms. It was somewhere between an army at the gates and an aquatic organism attempting to devour the stars.

It was something Lunaris had known for a long time, though she’d never really given it much thought until the rise of the Lich. The Lord of Light existed to purge the evil that developed in the world, but Lunaris’s place had never been to protect them from the night, at least not against mundane threats. It had been to protect the world from the night. From the endless mass of darkness that existed everywhere, the flames of Siddrim’s horses did not touch. There was no way she could do Siddrim’s job as well as her own.

Oroza’s thoughts were interrupted when Lunaris put her hand on the River Goddess’s shoulder. “Do you know why there are fewer stars than there used to be?” the Moon Goddess asked.

“I… didn't realize there were,” Oroza said truthfully, making Lunaris nod sadly.

“It’s because of Siddrim’s jealousy and vanity,” the Moon Goddess said with a shake of her head. “He would brook no rivals. Not for the last century, at least, since he purged the last of the dark gods. Before that time, though. Heroes… rare heroes at least would have souls that burned with light, and when they died… well, instead of descending into the underworld to be reborn, I’d place them where they would do the most good so they could fight on.”

“And Siddrim didn’t like that?” Oroza asked, confused. She had no idea why the Lord of Light wouldn’t want more lights in the sky.

“He would not release those souls. Instead, he devoured them to burn ever brighter,” Lunaris explained. “But now that he is gone, those sparks are mine again, at least, to do what I will with them.”

As the Moon Goddess spoke, a ball of light materialized in her hand. “This one was called Farbaer, and he was a very brave young man. Given a bit of time, he might have become the next Lord of Light himself, but no mortal can stand against the Lich.”

“Lunaris, please,” Oroza said, not caring about whom the light was or his history. The name meant nothing to her. “You need that. Use it to purge your own darkness, or—”

She ignored Oroza and instead reached for the blade, leaving the light to flicker in midair like a stranded will-o-wisp. When she opened the seal, unwrapped the blade, and drew it from the scabbard, the thing gleamed like a mirror, but that was only for a moment. Once that was done, the light darted to it, and the whole thing glowed with a brilliant white light that faded after a moment, leaving only the runes behind to glow dully.

“Do you know what this is?” the Moon Goddess asked finally.

“A weapon to use against the darkness?” Oroza guessed.

“No,” Lunaris answered with a shake of her head. “It is destiny, sharpened to a fine point. Whatever evil is pierced by this shall be struck down and shall never rise again.”

This chapter upload first at NovelBin.Com