âDonât you think this is a little morbid?â asked Anneliese. âBringing Llewellen back⊠feels perverse, in some manner.â She rubbed her hands together uneasily.
âI thought you might be eager to meet him,â Argrave answered, leaning up against the wall disaffectedly. He was still quite bothered by the conversation with Garm. No one liked hearing another was so utterly depressed. Heâd said what he felt was the right thing, but he couldnât say everything would be all right.
ââŠI donât know. Maybe I am?â Anneliese questioned, then nodded in confirmation. âNo, I am. I am looking forward to it. At the same time⊠perhaps itâs a bit much to ask him to work on our behalf immediately. Despite everything, heâll still be a living, breathing person with his own wants and desires.â
âItâs a lot like what Sophia tried to do, in a way.â Argrave closed his eyes. âMaybe itâs crueler. Giving others a few months of life and expecting them to work. But Llewellen died in extreme pain, not knowing how heâd be remembered. Look at it as a remedy to the way he died rather than a corruption of his memory. And if heâs half as intelligent as Raven praised him as being, heâll be a tremendous boon to us.â
Anneliese nodded. âIâll try. But if heâs resistantâŠâ
âThen heâs resistant, and weâll deal with what comes,â he assured her. âIf you could, keep an eye on Garm, would you? I think heâs fine, but youâd know better than I ever would.â He kicked off the wall. âIâm going with Artur. He wants to take a look at the Shadowlands before he decides what to craft.â
âDoes that mean youâre going to create an opening in that location you scouted out?â Anneliese questioned.
Argrave nodded. âA partial one. But he needs to feel and experience the existence of the Shadowlands to craft something to combat it, I should think.â
âWhat ideas did you have?â Argrave asked Artur as they walked through the obsidian caverns. Or ratherâhe walked, as Artur floated along on his cloak. Raven followed, ensuring that everything was safe. Argrave talked partly because he was uneasy. In these caverns of obsidian, reflections of oneself were all too common and unnerving. It felt like they were already in the Shadowlands, in a way. âWould you craft goggles, maybe? A spectacle?â
âI was under the impression that the artifact I would create should be able to affect a large group, Your Majesty,â Artur said uneasily.
âYouâre the craftsman,â Argrave reminded him. âWhatâs on your mind?â
ââŠthe running idea I had was a lantern,â Artur disclosed in a quiet voice. âIt was the first thing that came to mind when dispelling a land of shadows. A glass box in a metal frame held upright, dangling from a firm rod by a single chain link. I would place the fruit inside the glass chamber, then set it alight.â
His description brought to mind vivid imagery, and Argrave nodded in approval. âMaybe its light could fight more than merely shadows.â
Artur gave a nod of his own in return. âStill, seeing the Shadowlands is the most important part of this journey.â
âItâs a little impossible to describe. Iâll just leave it to you.â
Artur moved ahead of Argrave, watching him. âYou forget I worked alongside Traugott. All of us Magisters did, despite how he tried to isolate himself. Not many of us were exceptionally surprised to see him become a wanted criminal in the kingdom, but Iâm surprised to learn he takes such priority as a threat. He often spoke of the Shadowlands joyously, but to everyone else, they sounded like a horror show.â
âThatâs understating it a little,â Argrave finished simply.
With nothing more to say, they continued onward in silence until they came upon the altar that Erlebnisâ memory spoke of. It was a hollow, spherical room of obsidian with a walkway bridging to the center of the sphere. There, an incredibly dark altar awaited themâjust like the Shadowlanders themselves, the altar was so black that it was impossible to distinguish its features in any great detail beyond its basic shape. It seemed to eat any light that fell upon it. Resting above it, like lurking claws or surgical instruments, were three daggers of the same material and color.
While Artur and Argrave paused at the entrance, Raven advanced boldly. He touched one of the daggers, and then the altar. His eyes glowed green as he scrutinized them with [Minor Truesight], and once his observations were done, he looked back. âThese items arenât of this world. Theyâre made of the bones of one of the Shadowlanders.â
âMmm.â Artur approached curiously. âI saw the one that Argrave put on display, but I never had the opportunity to work with it.â His stubby fingers tapped against the daggerâs blade cautiously. âGods. Quite sturdy, yet still light. It almost feels like metal. Something really had bones made out of this?â
Raven nodded.
He looked back at Argrave. âDo you still have the corpse of the Shadowlander that attacked Dirracha? I recall you displayed it boldly when you were demanding the submission of the southern nobles and the Order of the Gray Owl.â
Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.
He only shrugged. âLike the rest of the furniture, I gave it to Hegazar and Vera when they became the rulers of Dirracha. I canât say what theyâve done with it.â
Artur scoffed. âThose useless wastes of space⊠Iâd rather die than speak to them, or even see them. But Iâd much rather them die, first.â
Argrave didnât know what his grudge was, and he didnât care to pry. He smiled blankly as he waited for the master of the Hall of Enchantment to come to a conclusion.
âSeeing this altar, I have had an idea,â Artur spread his arms out and ran it across it. âIâve never seen black be this beautiful. Itâs like a night sky, or⊠or more than that. An abyss. It almost eats light. It eats everything. I canât say for sure, yet⊠but I think I have to use this as a material. If not for this project, others.â He looked at Argrave. âCould you get your hands on one of their bodies?â
âThat depends,â Argrave crossed his arms.
âOn what?â
âAre you prepared to fight?â Argrave asked with a smile. âBecause we can open the Shadowlands wide enough for some of them to come out right now, and then youâll never run out.â He looked at Raven. âWe could take a lesson from Traugott, too, and give the bodies to Garm for his little reanimation frenzy.â
âI am unsure if necromantic magic would work on their flesh so far removed from ours,â Raven answered back. âIt would be worth trying, though.â
Artur spun one of the rings on his finger, genuinely considering the offer in cautious contemplation. Ultimately, he shook his head. âAll I need for now is a sample of the place they live in.â
Argrave was a little relieved, too. Though he was somewhat curious about what his blood magic could do to Shadowlanders, now, he wasnât exactly eager to bleed on demand. He dismissed the notion, then sat on the ground and closed his eyes, diving deep into Erlebnisâ wiki now that theyâd found the altar.
He heard Artur questioning what he was doing, but was so intensely focused he was able to pay it no mind. He found the article pertaining to the altars to the Shadowlands. The daggers above were the instruments that allowed one to breach into their realm. Their means of activation were a little⊠antiquated.
âHey, Raven.â Argrave stood up. âCould you spare me a set of eyeballs, and a set of ears?â
âYou have some,â Raven pointed out.
âYou can make infinite,â Argrave countered.
âSo can you,â Raven held his ground.
Argrave stared, and Raven eventually gave what mightâve passed for a laugh were it not so terrifying. âI shouldâve known their altars would involve such a thing.â He held his hand out, and a pair of gray eyes and matching white ears appeared, then promptly popped loose with an unpleasant noise. âWhere shall they go?â
As Artur stared in abject horror, Argrave casually pointed to a basin that was part of the altar. âJust fill one of those. That should make the dagger above awake.â
Raven obeyed, plopping eyes and ears into the bowl. Their gelatinous noise echoed in the quiet chamber. The fact they were bloodless made them a little more acceptableâhe almost thought of them as Halloween props. But then the inert knife rapidly descended, stabbing eighty times in half a second until eyes and ears both were reduced to a pink goo. It drained into the black bowl, leaving nothing behind. fđ«đČewebđ»ođŻel.đođș
Then, Argrave felt a shift in the roomâa stirring of the heart. And just above the altar, a diamond of absolute darkness took form, revealing the horrors of something beyond. The Shadowlands.
âIâm kind of glad I donât have to live in this,â Garm remarked as he stared down upon Ravenâs creation. âAt least this beggar had some character. But this⊠itâs a shame. No artistry.â
Anneliese, Garm, and Durran had come to the spot that Llewellen died, where Raven had left what he promised. The body that Raven had created was utterly devoid of any distinguishing features. It was impossible to tell if it was a man or a womanâlargely because the spot where one mightâve figured out was entirely flat. It even lacked nipples.
âMmm⊠this wonât do,â Garm shook his head, then looked over. âHelp me out, Durran.â
âWith what?â Durran said, still looking a bit peaked.
âHelp me change the body,â he clasped his hands together. âLetâs make it into something livable.â
Durran gaped. âIâm not going to reshape the flesh for you,â he refused.
âCome on,â Garm looked between Anneliese and Durran. âYouâre going to be asking this man for help, right? Then it stands to reason youâd want to show special care to the form that he occupies. If heâs not happy, why would he help you?â
Durran looked to Anneliese for insight, and she crossed her arms. âI can tell that you just want to do this because itâs fun⊠but youâre not wrong,â she admitted, looking to Durran. âLlewellen may appreciate the gesture. I donât know necromancy, though. I never bothered, because I thought Gerechtigkeit would make it unviable.â
Durran sighed, looking up at the ceiling. âFine. Fine, alright.â
Garm smiled, and Durran became the instrument of his artistry. It was a rather revolting thing, reshaping the flesh, but Garm was talented at it, and Durran had inherited Garmâs talent after consuming his soul. They gave Llewellenâs new form elven ears, a leaner physique, and a face resembling Llewellenâs own. Eventually, thoughâŠ
âIâm not giving him genitals, Garm,â Durran stood his ground. âWeâre done. Itâs done. Move on.â
Garm sighed. âYouâre such a child. Every living thing has them. But, fine.â He rose to his feet. âLetâs stuff the ancient elf back in the corpse. Are you ready to meet your mentor, Anneliese?â
âNo, but yes.â She nodded.
âGreat conviction. Then, without further adoâŠâ Garm held his arms out. âLetâs wake Llewellen up.â