All these thoughts and an endless cascade of inexpressible feelings flooded through her veins and nerves, filling her deepest parts, both carnal and ethereal, with loss, and a void darker than the bottom of the Chasm.
Pierce watched in empathy and discomfort as Scythia continued to sob over the corpse of her husband. The others watched for a few moments, then turned away and left the little hollow. It was hard to know which was the right thing to do, to come beside her in her grief, or to leave her to it and let it run its course.
Pierce quietly approached the body of the First. It seemed like someone should be mourning him too. Why wasn't Ess doing so? Perhaps to fall on his body and weep like Scythia was not her way.
The man's eyes were closed. Sev must have done that. Eff looked frail in his well-worn robes. Blood had seeped through in places. Strangely, his face looked a little blue. Either the fall or the explosion had killed him. The bloody spots must be from severely broken bones where the skin had been ruptured.
Pierce stole a glance at Scythia. She didn't even know he was there. Her face was buried in her husband's chest. Her sobs were heart-wrenching.
Pierce felt gingerly up both of Eff's arms. There were breaks all the way up, and places where the bones had simply been shattered. Had death come quickly? The bones in his legs were much the same. It was possible the pain from so many bones being simultaneously broken would have caused Eff to blackout. That would have been a mercy. Despite all his power, it seemed he wasn't as durable as Ess and the rest of Gorgonbane. Pierce thought that odd.
He had the urge to inspect Axebourne as well, but he could not simply ask Scythia to move aside. He had seen that man resist the massive weight of a Monstrosity's hand as it tried to smash him. The red-bearded barbarian had held the thing down as if he were restraining a child. It was hard to believe any explosion or fall could have killed him.
Pierce took one last look at Eff, saying a short prayer to the Blacksmith for his soul, and left the hollow to Scythia and Axebourne.
All around the tower's wreckage they found the bodies of Underlanders. They left them where they lay. Most of the gen and werewolves were in pieces, torn by either Ess's orange orbs or Agrathor's lightning. They found a few of the garrison men's bodies as well. Here and there were dead supra-gen, jet-black skin and clothes camouflaging them in the darkness.
They buried their dead comrades in cairns made of stone from Chasmverge, Axebourne and the First among them. Some of the stone blocks still glowed faintly green.
Ess prayed alone over the First's grave for a long time, but Scythia had already cried herself out, and stood back with the remainder of Gorgonbane. They prayed together to the Blacksmith.
Everyone knew that death was inevitable. It meant you were fully forged and tempered, ready to be carried along the Glorious Paths, where all evil and injustice would be vanquished with overwhelming and holy might. Axebourne was finished, and the First as well. They would be glorified. They would live with the Blacksmith and all other holy ones from now on.
This knowledge didn't make the loss of Axebourne any easier.
Every battle would be harder, Scythia would never be the same, and each round of jibes, tales or discussions of Gorgonbane's plans would be lacking that spice that only Axebourne could provide. Someone would have to tell Sugar, if she had survived the invasion.
The First would be missed, but in a less personal sense. It had been good to know that someone with his great power was alive and working in the world. Pierce wondered how Ess felt about her master's death. She hadn't given away much, but he supposed she would talk to someone if she felt the need.
There was a long period of silence after the impromptu memorial, and one by one, Gorgonbane walked away from the cairns. Scythia left last.
When she did, there was a hardness in her gait that Pierce had never seen. It was clear that she had a plan.
She strode up to the forgemaster first, and he looked down at her with a questioning brow.
"Did you kill them? Were they alive when you found them?" she asked without preamble.
Sev's brow unknitted and he looked sad for her. "I did not, ma'am. They were already dead, and cold."
Scythia studied him intensely, gems on her circlet pulsing like a bird's heart. After a long moment, she nodded and strode away. She went to Ess next.
"Can you fold me straight to Kash?" she asked. "Do you know where he could be? Or if the forgemaster can guess, could you do it?"
Ess shook her head slowly. Her voice sounded weary and morose. "I cannot. I am able to fold quite far, but I cannot take anyone with me. You would have to learn it for yourself."
Scythia nodded again. She glanced in the direction of the Chasm, then started walking straight away from it, inland. The others scrambled to follow.
"Scythia, what are you doing?" Agrathor asked, jogging to keep up with her long strides.
"What do you think?" she said, not looking back at him.
"I think you're going to try and kill Kash," he said. "I love the idea, but you can't do it alone."
"Watch me," Scythia growled.
"We couldn't even do it together!" Agrathor shouted.
Scythia wheeled on him. He skidded to a stop.
"I have always been Gorgonebane's level head," she said fiercely. "I have always been the understanding sister and patient mother. With him at my side, I could spare the effort. I never minded filling that role. But now, he is gone. There is nothing left for me but recklessness and fury. I will live up to the bold memory of that wonderful man, to the fiery
