Tenebroum Ch. 213-214

Ch. 213 - Total Eclipse

Leo only had a few seconds to struggle with his rising panic before he heard the familiar voice. “There’s no going back after this, I’m afraid.” Even before Leo whirled around, he knew who it was. 

“Jordan,” he called out, but when he turned around, the familiar mage was not who he saw. 

Some of the details were right, of course. The luminescent spirit had Jordan’s features and his sad eyes. These were clear and sharp, though, not milky and bespeckled as he remembered the man. He was taller and translucent now, though, and pale white, like the ghost of who he might have been. 

These minor differences were enough to put Leo on edge. He’d lost his silvered blade with the defeat of that horrid monster, but even so, he still pulled his dagger and raised it defensively, noting briefly how his golden light contrasted with the pale light of the imposter. 

Jordan ignored the slowly reddening blade and stepped around it to embrace Leo. It wasn’t a swift movement, and he could have stopped it, but despite his doubts, he couldn’t bring himself to stab the almost familiar man. Not after everything that had happened. 

Instead, he dropped his blade and hugged him back, noting the way that his weapon continued to glow orange instead of extinguishing itself as he expected it would, and instead lit the small amount of grass remaining near him on fire. 

No, everything that was happening, he corrected himself. It was still happening. It was all still happening. Power was still welling up inside of him, and he could still feel the souls of his brothers and sisters swirling within him, but he didn’t know how to make it stop. 

That scared him, but not as much as Cynara’s reaction. She couldn’t even approach within a dozen feet of him because of the light and the heat of his golden aura. 

“What’s happening?” he asked Jordan. 

“You have reached a criticality, and you are ascending,” the man answered casually. 

“Criticality? Ascending?” Jordan asked, confused. “That’s not what I want. We won. I just want this to be over now and…”

“In the end, none of us get what we want,” Jordan answered in a slightly sadder tone. “There’s no stepping outside of fate, not when we have to save the world.”

“Isn’t that what I just did?” Leo asked, releasing the mage and taking a step back to look him in the eye.

“It is,” he agreed. “But only the first step. Malzekeen is dead, but many shards of his evil escaped. I’m sure you saw the rats.”

“I did,” Leo agreed, not sure how much damage a few rats could do. 

“Think of them as seeds, then, seeds of evil,” Jordan answered, “Without the sun in the sky, they will find fertile ground, and in a month or a year, or even a decade, that monster will be reborn to do this all again.”

“Then I’ll defeat him a second time,” Leo proclaimed. “I’ll do this all again. I’ll—”

“Will you?” Jordan asked. “Your light is bolstered by the sacrifice of everyone you ever loved, and when that burns away, your soul will go with it. There are only two choices now, and I do not think you were meant to be a star. You burn too brightly for that.”

“Star?” Leo whispered in confusion. 

Before he could truly ask a question, or Jordan could answer one, Cynara called out again. “Please, Leo, what’s happening? I’m afraid.” 

Just the sound of his voice hurt his heart, and he moved again to come closer so he could hold her, but after two steps, she shrank back again from his swirling light because it was too painful. He was just about to cry out in frustration and ask Jordan what he should do when the pale ghost of a man walked past him, picked her up from the ground, and embraced the girl instead.

“Shhhh…” he whispered, soothing the crying girl while he stroked her hair. At that moment, Leo’s jealousy bordered on the volcanic, and the fires around him swirled that much more fiercely, but he still didn’t step toward her. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her. 

“Leo has done a great and terrible thing,” Jordan told her. “He has slain a terrible evil, but in doing so, he’s broken free of the bonds of mortality.”

“What does that mean?” Cynara asked. “Is he going to die?”

“Everything dies one day,” Jordan answered, “But I don’t think that’s what's happening here. He’s liable to outlive you and me. He’s just becoming something more. ”

“But I don’t want something more; I just want my Leo back!” Her tears hurt Leo like a physical blow, but all he could do was stand there and smolder. He knew that if he moved towards her, she would only move away again. 

He steeled himself for the bad news he was exacting. He thought sure that Jordan was going to tell her that was impossible, but that’s not what he said. Instead, the ghost of the mage answered, “I think I can make that happen, but only for a little while. Come the dawn, my powers will wane, and his… well, there will be no stopping him them.”

The pale mage then did something even more unexpected and cast a spell. It was longer and more complex than the ones he’d seen Jordan cast before, but it was a sight to behold. For a moment, Cynara was wrapped in a gossamer web of auroras and starlight as whatever Jordan did to her took hold. After that, though, there was only the faintest pale glow around the edge of her. 

“Go to him,” Jordan said, “I will do what I can for the survivors.”

Neither Leo nor Cynara needed any encouragement, and they ran to each other. As he got closer and closer to her, the light that had reached out to her before became flames as she got closer, but no matter how fiercely they swirled around her, her tattered dress did not burst into flames. Instead, the magic aura that Jordan had given her held back the worst of it, and even when they embraced, she didn’t flinch or cry out in pain. 

She didn’t say anything at all, and neither did he. They were too busy kissing instead. This should have been all they’d done tonight after their ceremony, but instead, the day had been ruined by blood, battle, and the deaths of so many. He couldn’t think about any of that right now, though. All he could think about was the way she felt in his arms as gratitude for the fact that she at least had survived overwhelmed him. 

It was several minutes before the conversation was anything like coherent speech. For a while, all they did was hold each other and express their feelings with small pet names and tender caresses. They should have been celebrating their honeymoon, not dealing with whatever this was, but there was nothing for it though. 

“What are we going to do?” she asked finally.

“I don’t know,” he answered truthfully, “But I knew that no matter what happens, I’ll never leave you. Not truly. I’ll find a way to stay by your side somehow.”

“That’s all I want,” she answered, melting into his chest, “But if Jordan is right, and this is truly our last night together, well, then, I don’t want to waste that either.”

Jordan smiled at that, and then, after a little searching, they found that the partially completed cabin he’d been building with Toman and the rest of the men hadn’t been completely leveled, so they retreated there for a little privacy. It didn’t have a bed or a roof, but it had 4 walls and a blanket, which was more decent than anything that either of them was wearing. 

Part of him worried that the maelstrom of light he still exuded would burn away the cabin, but Cynara was the eye of the storm, and where she stood, things did not burn. So, while the upper timbers became a little scorched once he bore her gently to the floor, the two of them had a taste of peace for however long it lasted. 

Leo’s flesh had regenerated over and over again, but his clothes hadn’t been quite so lucky. His tunic and pants were in tatters, but Cynara’s dress wasn’t doing much better. It was stained with blood and dirt. Additionally, she’d slit it all the way up the side so she could move in it easier during the fight. He respected that, but he was also glad. It made it that much easier to take off of her. 

For any other couple, the next few hours would have been lost to darkness. But for Leo and his lover, they were lost in the light. They both radiated passion as much and incomprehensible magic and if anything, he thought that Cynara’s pale skin was that much more beautiful with her pale aura. 

Hours later, when they finally emerged from their love nest, Leo felt forever changed by the experience. He wished that this night could have lasted forever, and he would have given up almost anything for that. Eventually they had to leave their cabin, though, because the walls had started to burn, and Cynara had started complaining about his heat.

Even that hadn’t been enough to entirely spoil the moment, and though he mourned the loss when she started putting her clothes back on, it only doubled his determination to find a way to solve this. Once they got past their suddenly sheepish grins and awkward moments, they found another change in the world. 

When Jordan had told Leo that he would do what he could for the survivors, he’d thought that the man meant that he would heal them or bandage their wounds. Instead, he found that the village of Wayward was entirely remade. Where once only shattered log cabins and ruined daub and wattle cottages, now there was a tiny town made of pure white stone. There were only half a dozen of the tiny palaces, but given how few people were likely to have survived, that was all they really needed. Still, it was so strange that he gazed at the sight with a feeling of wonder. 

“It’s like he made the moonlight solid, somehow,” Cynara murmured, walking over to the closest one and running her hand along the smooth marble surface. 

“It does, doesn’t it,” he said as a few more pieces started to fall into place in his mind. What he’d first thought of as ghostly when he looked at the mage now looked a bit more like moonlight now that she mentioned it.

Did he make some kind of deal with Lunaris? He wondered. 

Leo recalled Brother Faerbar telling them that the Moon Goddess had something to do with mages, but it had been too long, and he could no longer remember the specifics. He didn’t have too much time to think about it, though. Almost as soon as the two of them emerged, casting a wide swath of light through the darkened village, Jordan started walking toward the two of them again. 

“I’m afraid you won’t be able to stay much longer,” the pale mage said, “I trust you have made your goodbyes?”

“Goodbyes?” Leo asked, “still in denial, but I don’t—”

“Even with my magic, she can no longer touch you,” Jordan interrupted, shaking his head. “In an hour, you’d burn this whole place down and her with it… In two, you’ll likely be ashes yourself. We must go while we still can.”

“Go where?” Leo asked. 

“To your chariot,” the mage answered with a smile.

Ch. 214 - Final Form

When Tenebroum next awoke from its fugue state, it was changed irrevocably. It had digested an endless amount of shadows, and it had woken up as darkness itself. Death was only a tiny part of it now, no bigger than the lingering influence of the dead river that flowed by its lair.

It had been a god for years. Then, after that, when it had reconstructed its lair to replace its phylactery, it had become something greater, but it was only now that it fulfilled the promise of that terrible potential that it had created. At this point, it might have more darkness than Siddrim had light when he yet lived, and Tenebroum was certain that a world without a true sun or a Lord of Light was entirely unprepared for the thing that it had become.   

There was a time, shortly after its ascension to godhood, when it had chaffed at being contained by its phylactery when it had come to think of its entire lair as its body instead. Now, it felt the same way about its new lair and expanded phylactery. There simply was no longer enough space for it to stretch out; for the second time in its existence, it had entirely outgrown its shell.

That was understandable, though; there was an endless surge of darkness coming from below. Even the heads of almost a hundred mages laid out across miles of magical circuitry were stifling now that it surged with so much power. It had a literal cathedral to contain it now, and even that wasn't enough. Every corridor was alive with shadows and arcane energy, and it was only barely contained by it. 

That night, when Tenebroum boiled out of the hole and above the blasted ruins of Blackwater, it was as an eruption of evil. It was a pyroclastic flow of darkness more than it was a fog or even a storm now. It was a violent force that caused the few remaining weeds that clung to life on that poisoned land to wilt as it spread across miles in the blink of an eye and began to search for its wayward henchmen.

The last time it had searched for them, it had been unable to locate a single one because it had been so weak and disconnected from its old magics. This time, though, it wasn't even difficult; it found them immediately, dotting the world in all directions. Far to the northeast were two of its three Dark Paragons, along with the Voice of Reason and her entourage. Where its third Dark Paragon had gone, it could not say. The other two were almost a thousand miles away, so if it was even further north, it was possible that it was out of his range, even while it crackled with this much power, but it would find out either way, soon. 

It couldn’t find its Queen of Thrones either, and though the Dark God called to her, she did not respond. That was worrisome, but then, it could always build another, it decided. There was no way she’d broken free, and it was instantly clear to Tenebroum where the woods she’d tainted and devoured had stopped and more natural growth started. So, she was most likely gone, and if that was the case, it was because she’d been defeated, either by Niama, her children, or else Malkezeen. Either way, the darkness would soon have its vengeance. 

Tenebroum paused in its search for its minions to seek out any trace of that animal. It wasn’t fear that drove it so much as wariness. It was fairly certain that the awful creature no longer had any claim on its soul, but just the same, it planned to blast it to ruin by surprise and from a distance to minimize any chance of another humiliating defeat. 

As much as it would love to savor the moment of rending that thing’s soul to pieces, it would much rather dash it into oblivion with a work of magic in an instant to secure victory. That wouldn’t stop the forces of wrath, disease, and famine from coalescing as some new force and under some new name, of course, but when they did, Tenebroum would be ready, and it would devour them, one by one. 

Once it verified that Malkezeen was nowhere to be found, the God of Shadows continued its search for what it was really looking for. It quickly found its Shadow Drake to the north, somewhere in the Wodenspine Mountains. A moment later, it finally located its favorite minion, Krulm’venor, off to the northwest, in the red hills.

The little monster made it out of the depths; after all, it thought to itself as it decided how best to proceed.  

Tenebroum was pleased that the monstrosity had not yet been dashed to pieces but would be more than happy to do so itself if it caught a single whiff of disloyalty. Its first impulse was to go straight there, but it refrained. It wanted to take its time with the fire godling. So, instead, the darkness surged north toward its closest minion, looking for its drake. 

It was not a difficult hunt. Of all its creations, the Shadow Drake was the most attuned to darkness, which is what Tenebroum was now. Even more than death, it was connected to the domain of pure shadows that was hidden behind the thin veneer of creation. So, the thing’s mere existence drew Tenebroum like a lodestone. 

It was not surprised by what it found. The drake was in a cave overlooking the valley that its people had long ago claimed and conquered, which was the precise location it might have looked if it could not feel it. 

What was only slightly more surprising was that Tenebroum felt no darkness from anywhere else in the rest of the valley. In most of the woodlands and mountain valleys it had passed over on the way here, it had found at least faded shades or the occasional goblin that bore its touch.

Even in the cracked plains to the north of its lair, which were entirely devoid of anything living larger than a rodent, still hosted a few enervated zombies. They were broken, pathetic creatures that sheltered from the thin sunlight in the abandoned farmhouses of the area, but they still existed. Here, though, its influence had been carefully pruned away. Not a single lizardman in the tribe bore the taint of its presence. Though the tribe as a whole still seemed to honor it, those members that embraced it had been cut methodically away, and it could see only one gardener. 

“Even now, you chafe at your leach, hound?” Tenebroum asked the creature as the smallest tendril of its ethereal smog coalesced into something resembling a body. "You destroy my creations to preserve what no longer exists."

Tsson’vek’s first response was to growl low at the intruder. “I took care of my people,” It said at last in a voice meant more for roaring and screeching than the low whisper it spoke in. “I make no apology for that.”

“You have not been a part of these people for a long time,” Tenebroum said. “Your fate and theirs were separated the moment you moved against me.”

“And yet here we are,” Tsson’vek rumbled. 

“Here we are,” the Dark God agreed, standing perfectly still even though it didn't really even have a body. 

Tenebroum could see the muscles twitching deep within the beast. It knew exactly what it was planning, but then, it could also see what terrible shape it was in. The Shadow Drake had always been a fragile beast, and it had been a long time since it had seen a fleshcrafter to mend it. As a result, there were many rents and holes in both its wings and its underbelly from the many fights it had been in during the time it had been away. 

Still, it didn’t need scales or even to move much for what it was planning. Tenebroum could have stopped it, of course, but it knew the attack would be meaningless, and it much preferred to damn its minions by their own actions. 

Tsson’vek wasn’t privy to any of those thoughts, though. So when it opened its mouth to speak again, and instead exhaled a gout of corrosive shadows that completely filled the mouth of the cave. Against a mortal enemy, it would have been utterly fatal. Even a knight cowering behind his shield would feel the darkness unmake his armor before it dissolved the rest of his body into swirling shadows. 

For Tenebroum, the torrent was nothing at all. Instead of trying to defend against it at all, the God simply took it all in. Its creation had been filled with a truly formidable amount of darkness to destroy the forces of light, which was the reason why it continued to survive and thrive even in the absence of connection to Tenebroum, but it was reclaiming that darkness now. 

Indeed, even as  Tsson’vek realized his mistake and tried to stop the tide of shadows, Tenebroum continued to pull on the stream. The Shadow Drake did not understand the magnitude of its error until that moment. 

It gasped and struggled then, rising to its feet and even trying to rear up. It couldn’t, though. This was over the moment it had exhaled. They were not fighting. This was an execution. 

Tenebroum drained it until there was nothing left to drain. It removed the last dregs of power until the eyes of the powerful construct were dull and glassy, and its ebon scales lost their dark sheen. In the end, it ripped out its still squirming soul and shredded it as the veneer of magic that held the thing together slowly made the six-winged dragon-shaped thing fall apart into a pile of rusted scales, wooden timbers, and yellowed bone. 

The traitorous pet died screaming, and once that was done, it looked around, and its physical form began to slowly dissolve back into the mist from which it had sprung into being. Then, it gazed upon the tribe that flourished far below. By night, they were in their nests, but it was easy to see that their numbers were larger than ever. It was a significant number of souls it could harvest with almost no effort.  

Tenebroum knew exactly what it should do. Despite the fact that the Shadow Drake was no more, it still should have smote his tribe of lizardmen. That was the source of the construct’s betrayal and the punishment that Tsson’vek’s betrayal merited. 

Yet, as it drifted over the valley, the darkness saw both the current totem pole and the scraps of the old one. Both of them had a golden skull at the top, which told it all it needed to about their dogged loyalty to forces that they couldn’t possibly understand. The lizardmen, as a whole, had never disobeyed it or betrayed it, and thus, it could not smite them from existence now. Instead, it merely drifted away and left them to their fate. 

Long after mankind and the children of the forest had joined the dwarves on the graveyard of history, the lizardmen would continue to thrive. That would be the case until all light was eliminated, and the world froze completely solid, at least, but even then, it might find some way to preserve them. 

With that thought, Tenebroum moved further skyward and began moving to the west. Krulm’venor was next on its list, and it had not yet decided if it would shred his soul as it had done to Tsson’vek or not.