Once Coraadrin and Colthan had completed the settling of those who left Irrkengrond with the Olta, they continued their wandering, traveling all through the lands north of the Toltinth Mountains as far north as Lor Ogr. They spent many years in Lor Ogr, for the dreaming fever of Acretia was still a great torment among the Astrugar. Though the disease was not as dire as when it first came to Irrkengrond, the Astrugar who returned from aiding Irrkengrond, those who did not settle with the body of their prince to watch Kilkretha, returned with the fever. Thus Lor Ogr had been greatly diminished in its peoples. In time, Coraadrin and Colthan taught the people of Lor Ogr how to treat the disease so that its course did not run to death.
They then traveled west, passing by Mount Milmota. The mountain was quiet as they passed. However, as they traveled down the hand river, when they reached the place where the five tributaries of the hand meet, the great mountain and the earth around it shook. The pair stopped looking back towards the mountain.
“That was strange…,” said Colthan.
“Yes… Ikata said something about the spirit that dwelled in Milmota having left,” Coraadrin, “Perhaps the mountain has become unstable now that it is empty.”
“Hmm,” replied Colthan, “let us continue then.”
So the two continued west, to the coast, and followed it south to Rosdoros. Here they again dwelt for some time, sharing their healing arts. When they had taught the city of the great turtles all they could master they continued their journey, venturing south past the Toltinth Mountains before turning east, passing through Namossada, making for Irrkengrond.
When the couple had crossed approximately half of the distance between the edge of the great plateau and Irrkengrond, they suddenly met a great number of people traveling south and west around the Mosstra mountains. They carried few belongings and many of them were injured. Immediately, upon seeing this Coraadrin began to tend to the wounded, healing those with the most severe injuries and giving balms and ointments to those with lesser wounds. Colthan began searching for whoever may be leading these desperate people. Soon he found a man who wore the marks of captain of the city of Irrkengrond, those his kit was worn and tattered. His face was weary and his eyes bore a somewhat crazed look in them.
“Hail friend!” called Colthan, “I am Colthan! God of Hospitality! What is your name? What has happened here? And where have these people come from?”
The captain quickly and respectfully bowed to Colthan.
“My name is Jaromir Ashson, Captain in the Guard of the City of Irrkengrond. We have come from the city,” replied the captain, “Though I am not sure what remains of it.”
Colthan tilted his head to the side, confusion writ on his face.
“What do you mean?” said Colthan, “My brother Milyos defends the city and calls it his own. What force would dare challenge him?”
“We do not know,” replied Jaromir, “But rumors of strange spirits amassing outside the city started about a month ago. They were dismissed as being of no consequence, for as you said, Milyos called the city his home. We considered our stronghold invincible so long as he defended it. But five days ago, something breached the north east wall and orders were given to evacuate the people of the city. I left on a horse from the city three days ago with a detachment to ensure that the citizenry was not followed by some portion of the force that breached the city. When I left the battle was fierce in the city, for great monstrosities had been unleashed in the city. I do not know what state the city is in now, nor who has brought their might against us.”
“Thank you friend,” said Colthan, beginning to take in the scene around him, as streams of people flowed around him. “Bring us the worst of your sick and wounded and we will treat them before we continue on to see what has become of the city. Take your people south to the edge of the Mosstra Mountains, then travel east to the land of Namosada. There are people there who have settled in the land who are from Irrkengrond. I will write for you a letter explaining all that you have told me and they will welcome you.”
“Thank you, my lord,” said Jaromir, “I will make arrangements for you to see the worst of the wounded.”
At once, Jaromir set about giving orders to the guards to bring those who had been grievously hurt to Colthan and Coradrin. He also provided quill and ink for Colthan. The couple only stayed among the people who fled the city for a day before continuing, for Colthan’s concern for Milyos was great.
The two made great haste toward Irrkengrond, as is the gift of the gods when they desire. The evening after they left the caravan, a great shudder shook the earth accompanied by a great cracking noise like thunder. Early the next morning they came within sight of the city. From a great distance away they could see smoke rising from beyond its walls. The walls themselves seemed dim and grimy, like earth had been kicked up against them. Cracks could be seen in them near their tops. Arriving early that afternoon at the south west wall of the city, they found the gates locked. They quickly skirted the wall heading to the south face but again found no open entry. Not until they came around to the north east wall did they find a way to enter the city, for in the middle of the north east wall, where once a great gate house had stood, was a mighty tear in the wall. Great sections of it had been forced backward, wrenching great stone from great stone, so that a section large enough for a great hoard to pour through had been removed from the wall. As they approached the gap in the walls, white ash filled the air.
Laid out before them was a wreck of great destruction. Chard ruins lined a clear path to the base of the central tower. Bodies of the guard of Irrkengrond lay strewn across it. Here too were the corpses of great beasts, twisted in the agony of death.
“What could have done this?” said Colthan, as he stepped on to the ruble in the breach, “What power would dare provoke my brother as such…”
Coraadrin was silent, for she did not know, but harbored in her heart intuition she longed to be untrue. Clambouring past him, she made her way down the ruble into the city. She stopped to examine one of the stones on the wall. It bore on it a great indentation from where it had been struck.
“The city is so quiet…” she said. Her eyes drifted up to the sky, seeing that many of the towers and buildings of the city had been leveled so that there were few buildings remaining with their second floor intact. She continued, “I do not think there are many survivors left here. But we must look. We must also be cautious for if whoever did this survived their battle with Milyos… they are strong indeed.”
Together they made their way to the great central tower. The doors to the tower had been broken inward, removed completely off their hinges. Dead on the throne, in the center of the hall sat a man, sword in his chest, royal garb bloodied. This was the last king of Irrkengrond, though his name has long been forgotten. For in its last days the city cared only for Milyos’ will and none for the figurehead of the king. So the couple searched on for those who may have survived the destruction of the city.
Long and fruitless was the couple’s search, for they found none alive in the city. All had either been killed or driven away. They found no one in the city until they reached the far side of the city. As they approached the north west wall of the city they began to hear the sound of women sobbing and wretching.
Coraadrin immediately ran toward the sound, Colthan following closely behind. The two came quickly to the edge of a great creator in the cityscape. Sitting at the center was the great hammer, Heaven Maker, and by its side retching in grief was Tilsitar, bellows women of Kilomond.
Staring over the edge of the crater, Colthan looked to Coraadrin.
“What has happened here?” he asked as much to the air around them as to her.
“I don’t know,” said Coraadrin, sliding down the edge of the crater. She carefully made her way to Tilsitar’s side. As she came closer she could see that Tilsitar’s left arm was tangled mess. Calling back to Colthan, Coraadrin said “We should not try to treat her here. Whatever caused all this may still be here.”
At this Coraadrin bent down, and slowly removed the black armor of Acretia and the padded gambison beneath it, so that Tilsitar now wore only the leather shirt and pants that formed the base of war gear. Even though Tilsitar was much larger than herself, took the bellows women across her shoulders. Colthan retrieved Heaven Maker, and together they left through the northernmost gate of the city, Tilsitar softly weeping as they went.
When they had traveled for a day from the city, Coraadrin set Tilsitar down in a wooded glade, resting her back against a tree. The bellows women had fallen asleep on their journey, and she shivered and quaked in her sleep.
Colthan set his hand on Tilsitar’s forehead.
“She is feverish,” he said to Coraadrin.
Quickly, the couple set about tending to her illness. Colthan started a fire for them, while Coraadrin placed her hands on Tilsitar. Divine energy flowed from her stone hands.
“Her mind is troubled,” said Coraadrin, “Bring her a blanket to comfort her.”
Colthan, set down the great hammer on the opposite side of the clearing, before he diligently wrapped the sweating Tilsitar in a blanket. He then stepped away to leave Coraadrin to her work. Gently, Coraadrin set her hand on either side of Tilsitar’s head, slowly resting her forehead against the bellows women’s.
“Be at peace, sister,” Coraadrin said, “Be still and comforted.”
Tilsitar shivered violently once more then was still. All through the night Coraadrin comforted her and tended to her care. Early in the morning, the fever broke and the billows women slept in peace.
Tilsitar woke in the late afternoon of the next day. Colthan and Coraadrin sat a short distance away from her at the camp fire talking to one another. Straightening herself against the tree Coraadrin had rested her against, Tilsitar looked into the campfire, before quickly turning away. The sudden movement caused both members of the couple to look up to Tilsitar. Colthan stood, saying “It is good you are awake. We were beginning to worry that you were afflicted with some ailment that we could not identify for you have slept for nearly a day now.”
Tilsitar looked at the ground, silent.
“Come closer to the fire and be warm with us,” continued Colthan, “You need not be afraid now. You are safe now.”
The bellows women shifted uncomfortably, before slowly shifting closer to the fire, turning her back to it. Coraadrin moved to sit next to her wrapping her arms around the bellows women. Gentle tears began to flow down Tilsitar’s face.
“We saw the destruction in Irrkengrond and that it is now empty of people,” said Coraadrin, “We found you in the city, in the middle of a large crater.”
Tilsistar silently nodded her head, her eyes unfocused. She gripped her shoulder, pulling her arms close to her chest.
Colthan crouched down and sat across from Coraadrin and Tilsitar.
“We saw no sign of my brother Milyos. Do you know where he is?” asked Colthan.
Tilsitar’s eyes widened and she looked Colthan in the face, before her wild eyes quickly darted to her hammer. Her breathing quickened and her legs began to shake. Seeing the panic and fear in Tilsitar’s face, Coraadrin took her hand, stroking it gently.
“Shhhhhhh,” whispered Coraadrin, “We will not hurt you. Be at peace.”
Tilsitar again looked to the ground, legs still shaking. Her breathing began to slow. After some time her leg stilled.
Coraadrin knelt down before her.
“There…,” She said, stroking her shoulder. Her voice was soft and kind. “Tell us what happened to you. Tell us how you came to the city.”
Tilsitar took a deep breath and then spoke.
“I came to the city after many wanderings… When I left the new heavens, I wanted to see what the world had made of my master’s craft. And they have made many great things indeed with it, though none surpass my craft or the craft of Kilomond. It brought me much joy to see it and the smiths of Irrkengrond had great skill in particular…
“But all this time I was not alone. When I was under the Mountain Milmota, I failed to find my master. It grieved me and my kindred greatly. This you know for I recounted all of this to Myliayar and Ikata, before they commissioned my work in the new heaven. What I did not tell them was that when Silnethren and Kalikel came to retrieve me from my ill fated work, I heard a voice call to me from the void. My master’s voice. Kilomond’s voice.”
Hearing these words from Tilsitar, Colthan drew close, crouching next to Coraadrin. Both focused intently on the words of the bellows women as she continued.
“In my mind, I heard him whisper and I turned back to the void under the mountain. He spoke of his rage and betrayal. How the gods took everything from him. How his brother failed him. They took the world, and mortals and everything he made away from. That they had changed them from his design. Made them something else. I did not know what to do, hearing his voice. I thought it was merely my grief. So I followed my master’s siblings out of the mountain, and as we traveled away from the mountain, the voice faded. For as Kalikel gathered so many other spirits, there were so many other voices and it faded to the back of my mind. In still and quiet moments of our travels, I could hear faint echoes of his rage. But he seemed far away, distant from me. Though his whispers never abated completely.”
Tilsitar stood now, turning to face the fire, looking out into the glade around them. Colthan rose as well, stepping away from the bellows women, placing himself between her and the great hammer. Coraadrin circled around to the fire to stand across from Tilsitar, meeting her eyes.
“So you came to the new heavens,” said Coraadrin, “What happened then?”
Tilsitar’s eyes fell to the fire.
“Much as when I traveled with Kalikel and the great many spirits she led to the city, I heard Kilomond less. There were even more voices as there were many more spirits,” replied Tilsitar. She paused and breathed deeply, before she continued, “And there were fewer quiet moments. The work on the foundation was challenging. Sleep found me quickly at the end of days of labor. I was not free, a prisoner in a golden cage, given brutal work to do… but there were no long lonely silences. No quiet moments for his voice to slip into my mind. I wanted to be free from the scrutiny of the gods, of Myliayar’s watchful eyes searching me out always. But I had not known anything close to peace in so long.”
Silence hung in the air. The fire crackled, the only sound for some time. Coraadrin folded her hands across her stomach, content to wait for Tilsitar to continue.
Slowly, the eyes of the billows women lifted from the fire. She stared directly into the eyes of Coraadrin.
“Then Ikata approached me with a project. An offer of freedom!” Tilsitar’s voice was filled with excitement as she spoke, “Even more, a chance to practice Kilomond’s greatest work in forging the very soul fire itself. How could I say no?
“So I completed my master work. You. A soul taken from its body and bonded to one again! My master would be proud! And to do it of things less perishable than flesh! Metal and Stone! Unchangeable! Eternal! Free from tampering or change!”
The reflection of the fire danced in Tilsitar’s eyes and she stood tall, filled with the pride of her work. The setting sun behind Coraadrin, blazed its golden light down now as well.
“I fear I may not be all that you hope…” said Coraadrin, “I am still human… But we can ponder the nature of my being some other time. You were now free. And as you said before, you set to wondering the world, seeking out what mortals had done with the craft of your master. Tell us now how you came to the city of Irrkengrond.”
“Very well,” replied Tilsitar, her eyes darkening, “I shall tell you what you long to know… though it fills me with grief and shame…”
