A small cough. A long inhale. Penna stood up straight and exhaled with a clear, unhindered breath.
“Penna?” Tobin asked past a slobbering sniffle.
“I can breathe,” Penna said, shocked by the revelation. She took in another giant breath to be sure then exhaled with a smile. “I can breathe!” She turned to Tobin and took the man into her arms with a bouncing step. “I can breathe, Tobin! Clear as a summer’s day in my youth, I can breathe!”
“How?” Tobin asked through tears then laughed as Penna lifted his feet from the ground with a squeezing hug. “Gods, woman, put me down!”
“Thank the gods,” Beothen sighed, his hand leaving the hilt of his sword as he stood over where Dnara had fallen to the floor within Athan’s arms. “We thought the Shadow King had come for you, sweet Penna.”
“What’s that?” Jenny asked.
“The Shadow King?” Beothen asked in an annoyed tone.
“No, that!” Jenny pointed and all eyes followed her finger to the floor. “That there, on the floor.”
“Sweet mercy!” Penna cried and jumped away from where she’d vomited.
“Everyone back!” Beothen bellowed, his broadsword leaving its scabbard with a long metallic ring. Everyone formed a circle around the inky black gelatinous mass slowly crawling its way across the floor with equally gelatinous tendrils. “Brodan’s balls,” Beothen cursed and sliced off one tendril with his blade, only to have two tendrils grow back its place.
“Don’t touch it,” Athan warned, his heels digging into the stone floor as he scooted himself and Dnara further back.
“Athan?” Dnara could not take her eyes off the mass as it propelled itself with jittering, unnatural movements of long black strings flung from its body. It had no eyes nor mouth, but Dnara knew without a doubt that it was alive. “What is it?”
“Blight,” Beothen spat the word. “The worst kind of it.”
With cautious steps, the gatekeeper circled the dark mass. The mass stopped, its body throbbing like an ink filled heart, then it moved with sudden speed towards Beothen’s next footstep. He cursed at it and stepped faster, slicing its tendrils in practiced strokes that parried the blight’s attacks. Gaining no ground as more tendrils appeared, Beothen took the iron ash scoop from its rack on the fireplace and shoveled the mass up before flicking it into the fire. A deafening screech filled the cabin and everyone covered their ears, cowering away from the flames as they burned black and blue.
“Demroth be damned!” Tobin shouted over the shriek.
The wind roared through the raised roof hatch and fed the flames. They grew as hot as a blacksmith’s furnace, but not as hot as Dnara’s arms. She buried her face in Athan’s shirt, screaming with the blight and the flames as the flesh on her arms blistered. At their climax, the flames transformed from bright blue to a blazing white more brilliant than the sun. The screeching ended, the wind stopped and the fire died. The world fell silent as the cottage plunged into darkness.
Part 2
And the Fire Dies
Retgar looked across Ellium and saw men in fields and forests, tirelessly toiling in hunger and misery. Retgar went to his brother-god, Brodan, seeking tools to lift man up from their despair.
In the deep mountain did Brodan keep his anvil and forge. Hammer hit upon iron anvil like thundering heartbeats, and from the flames he wrought great works with inspired hand.
For Retgar to protect his people, he crafted an axe like no other, sharp and unyielding, but light as the moonlight its shining blade reflected. For fair Faedra, Brodan’s blessed hands fashioned silver stars to set on her head a crown of grace and glory so she may inspire man to do great deeds.
For Ishkar he made a quill that never ran dry, so the stories of man would be without end. For Thalisa he did craft a strong shield and sturdy rod, so she may protect forever Faedra’s Sacred Halls where the souls of man may rest in peace for eternity.
For himself, Brodan formed a flaming sword that could cut through shadow with fiery wrath, lighting the way for man and cutting out evil from their hearts. And finally, for his beloved Valda, he constructed a necklace of sapphire tears, each one a wish for an eternity with her and a promise of man’s everlasting legacy.
With these tools and adornments Brodan bestowed, the Red City of Carn rose from field and forest to guide the destiny of man. The land of Carnath prospered north and south of Eldin River, and the people knew three hundred years of peace.
Then Demroth came to Brodan from the east, desiring a dagger that could pierce the veil between worlds. With promises to help further lift the lives of man did Demroth conspire, and Brodan with trusting heart did raise his hammer to shape the requested blade.
To cast such a blade, Brodan required each of the gods to give unto Demroth a gift. Retgar shed his blood into Faedra’s chalice, mixed with ink from Ishkar’s pen. They spilled their secrets onto the flames of Brodan’s furnace, and the flame burned white and hot as the sun.
Retgar bade Faedra to give up one star to help the plight of man, and so with tears, she cast one of her children down to earth. Brodan took the child and molded it into a black blade of night-sky steel.
Thalisa did cut in half her rod, and with it Brodan cast the handle and hilt. And from his beloved Valda, he asked one sapphire, a single drop from eternity to embellish the dagger’s pommel.
Eight years and twelve nights it took for Brodan to forge the blade, all while Carnath’s people still lived in peace with Elvan and Orc. When Brodan’s final hammer strike fell, a shadow eclipsed the moon and Demroth smiled at what
