Tilsitar turned away from Coraadrin and the setting sun, to the darkness of the coming night that crept into the forest. Here back to the fire she spoke in a clear voice, so that she could still be heard.
“The first time I came to the city of Irrkengrond it was as I have said. I came to see the mighty things they did with forge craft. They were clever in their work, weaving the Milyos’ magic into their metals and constructions. Limbs of wood and metal for those who had lost them. Animated not by the fire of a soul, as you are Coraadrin, but by the arcane secrets of the stars. I myself learned many things. For while they were secretive in the mists that covered the city, they were also eager to glean yet more knowledge from any spirit. I had no interest in their money, so I taught them their secret. I suspect they had few opportunities to speak with a true forge spirits, so they were eager to give me what they thought was of great importance. History of the city, secrets of mage craft, wickedness of the nobility and many, many other things. It pleased me to live there among them for quite some time and I took great satisfaction in my knowledge.”
Tilsitar’s eyes fell to the forest floor.
“Yet the voice of Kilomond never departed from me. From the first moment I set foot outside of the heavens, it swirled in my head. It was faintest when I taught mortals the secrets of the forge. I found a way to live with it in the city. Busy days of craft and teaching… Until I traded one secret for another and I learned something that I wish I had not.”
Her fists curled as she spoke the words, head turning in a grimace.
“My notoriety had somewhat grown in the city and an archmage came to me seeking my help. He wanted me to make for him a scalpel that could separate the soul fire from the body. I questioned him at first. What purpose could he want such a tool for? Mages had numerous other tools for extracting soul fire. What task could he have that would require such precision? He said ‘I will tell you. But it will be my payment to you for the scalpel.’
“I was taken aback by this. What secret purpose could be so great that it was worth this deep secret of my craft? The craft of one who worked with Kilomond himself? I sent him away, disappointed that I would not do this for him. He begged and pleaded. He said that he could pay for it in gold or precious stones or any material I desired for he had no greater secret than what he was offering. I of course told him no. He returned a month later, desperate. He said that no one else in the city would even consider attempting to make such a tool. I told him ‘No secret of a mortal is worth what you have asked of me. You ask for a tool that could only be found in the great forge in the heavens that Aientas rules.’ His reply astonished me… He said, ‘My lady, I offer you not the secret of some mortal, but the secret of the god of the tower and his great work that consumes his mind.’
Colthan stiffened upon hearing these words. His eyes board into the back of Tilsitar’s head.
“No…” He said, his voice was a faint whisper. The bellows women continued.
“Now what was I to say? I knew Milyos dwelt in the city, but I had not seen him since I arrived. When I asked of his whereabouts, I always received the same answer. ‘He is consumed in his great work. It is all his mind turns on.’ And here I was now offered the secret of his great project. So I agreed. I would make him his tool. And when it was complete he told me what Milyos was making.”
“I listened and he told me of Milyos’ plan to make mortals, ALL mortals, like himself. Swirling, formless masses unanchored by the bodies so carefully crafted by my master. Using his phial as a catalyst, he would transform the very fire of souls in them into something cold, something that would animate nothing but itself. He would turn mortals every thought to those arcane secrets he so loves. No thought for the earth Kilomond had made, nor his craft and trade, nor the bodies that they once had. All would be like him and all would glorify him”
“When I learned this secret the voice of Kilomond burst into a raging flame in my head. I could not drive it away. It screamed in my mind ‘YOU MUST NOT LET THIS HAPPEN. DO NOT LET HIM TAKE THEM FROM ME. DO NOT LET HIM UNDO MY WORKS.’ So in panic and fear I acted. Swiftly, I took up my hammer and went to the central tower, for the foolish mage who came to me spoke of Milyos’ laboratory at top of the tower and how the scalpel I had made him would be used to refine the method for transforming the soul fire. I climbed higher and higher in the tower. When I was questioned I lied. I told them that I had made a tool for the great work and that I had been summoned to repair it. And they let me continue my accent. I was lucky, for when I reached the summit of the tower and stood in front of the great stone door to the laboratory. The entry way was strange. Stone and metal pipes weaved their way through the floors and ceilings of the room to the great door.”
“I was alone, save for a few guards. I was lucky. Milyos was not there. For a moment, my senses returned to me, and I asked one of the guards where Milyos was, for I realised that I would likely lose a battle with him should I have to fight him. To my relief, the guard informed me that he had gone to the catacombs under the tower to ensure the mechanisms there were as they should be. I did not know what this meant and I still do not know, but the guard said that he would return shortly. So I approached the door. I raised my hammer and struck down the doors, entering the chamber beyond it.”
“Inside was the phial, sitting on a raised pedestal. The pipes that ran from the atrium through the door to the base of the pedestal and it seemed as though power flowed out of the phial through them. The guards now rushed after me with weapons drawn. In a haze, I swatted them away. Kilomond’s voice in my head was clear, ‘STOP THAT BETRAYER! DESTROY HIS WORKS!’ So I again raised my hammer and I struck the phial three times. The first time seemed to have no effect on the vessel. The second strike cracked it down the side. On the third strike it shattered. When it broke, a great burst of energy came from it that threw me backwards and destroyed the sections of the wall, exposing the lab to the open air that surrounded the tower. I was stunned but quickly realized that I must flee before Milyos arrived.”
“So I ran. I ran down the stairs of the tower; out of the city of Ikata; beyond the great plateau to the Fillian Desert, to the places that I practiced my craft when Kilomond was first cast down. I hoped that perhaps now that I had acted, that I had done what he said, I would be free from the voice. For when my feet felt the sands of the desert beneath me, I understood what I had done. In my haste to obey my master, I had killed mortals, the beautiful frames that the soul fires had been set in. I destroyed my master’s works. I tore at my hair, screamed at the sky for what I had done.”
Tears welled in the eyes of Tilsitar. Her voice broke as she continued.
“But… in the solitude of the desert, my master was not done with me.”
Tears flowed freely from her eyes now.
Coraadrin stepped towards Tilsitar, reaching out to once again comfort her. But Tilsitar pulled away from her.
“No!” said Tilsitar, her voice catching again “Do not comfort me until you have heard the rest of my story, until you have heard all of my shame…”
Coraadrin pulled back her hand.
“Okay,” she said sitting across from Tilsitar, “We will listen. And when you are finished I will comfort you again.”
“We shall see if that is so,” replied Tilsitar before taking a deep breath and continuing. “What was I to do… I had done what he asked. His voice was still in my head, now louder than ever. He was not satisfied. He said ‘DO NOT RELENT NOW! HE WILL TRY AND TAKE THEM FOR HIS OWN AGAIN! YOU MUST NOT ALLOW THIS! GO DESTROY MILYOS! BURN HIS WORK FROM THE EARTH!’”
“I crumbled before his voice in that moment. I tried to do as he asked… But how was I to fight a god? Bring down the city that bent to his whim. Killing even a few mortals had thrown me into a panic that only my master’s voice could break me from. I clawed at my skin in madness for I did not know what I should do but his voice would not leave me. For many years I lived in this state, a howling madwoman in the desert. His message was always the same: ‘GO DESTROY MILYOS! KILL THAT DEFILER! But I was paralyzed because I knew I could defeat him in a battle.”
“Then Kilomond said a thing that sparked in me a new, desperate thought. He said ‘WHY DO YOU HESITATE? ARE YOU NOT LOYAL? GO AND PROSECUTE MY WAR AGAINST MILYOS!’ These words… They brought back an old memory from when I first came to Irrkengrond. Shortly after I arrived in the city, when I first opened a workshop and was just beginning to offer my services, an old woman came to me with a simple request. She asked me to build her a safe that would open for her grandchildren when she died. It was quaint but I had few projects at the time and there was something endearing about the way that mortals long to pass things from generation to generation, so I agreed.
“She was very eager to pay with a secret for she seemed to have something burning in her chest. ‘Great lady,’ she said ‘I have found something in my time in the archives that I have not found anyone to share with. Everyone who I have tried to tell has dismissed me as mad.’ She chuckled to herself saying these things as though she were playing some great trick, gesturing for me to come close. ‘I know where this city’s great foe has hidden. Acretia, the lady of war.’ This was not what I was expecting to hear from this small unassuming woman. But I bent my ear to her and listened. She told me that Acretia had traveled north and east after her defeat in Kilkretha. She nursed her wounds in secret and began scheming to actualize her lust for dominance and rule. Eventually, according to this woman, she had settled at the head of the Rasa River, where she began to spread her influence. Not through open war, but by puppeteering rulers unwise enough to listen to her musings. ‘She fears being uncovered by Irrkendgrond’s sorcerers who are always scrying the wide world,’ the old woman said, ‘So she waits, twisting the hearts of mortals to her own will.’ I had no way of knowing if this was true or not at the time I learned it, nor did I in my madness alone in the Fillian Desert. But it sufficed as payment then, and it was a hope of silencing my master’s voice now.”
Coraadrin’s eyes widened with horror as Tilsitar told this part of her tale, finding the gaze of her husband. Tilsitar noticing this interrupted her tale.
“I know…” she said, “I knew so little about her… what she unleashed on the city. Few in the city spoke of her. When citizens of the city did speak of her, it was always of their victory over her. They have all but buried any sign that she brought the city to its knees. The Dreaming Fever was treated like a folk tale to scare children. After all they had the Magic of Milyos. What did they have to fear? I knew nothing of war. I knew nothing of the wretched black lady…”
Tilsitar’s eyes lost focused, staring out into the forest.
“So what did you do?” asked Colthan. His voice was stern and commanding, “Finish your tale.”
Tilsitar looked down at the dirt beneath her feet, then over to Colthan.
“I went north… I walked the Rasa to its headlands. The days were short and cold, the nights long and colder. When I reached those distant lands, I found nothing but petty lords ruling paltry kingdoms. But they were strangely uniform. Each lord a crown, every guard a shield, all of the same make, the same design. Yet nowhere did I see a metal smith that could make crowns like these or forges to make so many shields, all so perfectly the same. When I was asked I was always told the same. ‘They come from the head of the river in the mountains. Traders come down from there. Our lords honor whoever makes them and are given their metal work as trade.’ the town folks told me. So I went to the mountains, following the river. I climbed higher and higher following the icy river course. Kilomond urged me on.
“I went ever higher, until I reached a great waterfall. So I climbed upward. When I crested the top of this clif, I saw it. A great mountain lake stretched before me and across it a fortress. It was simple, but fearsome. If Acretia were here, this is where she would dwell. So I came to the gate and said ‘Lady of War! I know you are here! I have come to seek your aid! Open the gate so that we may speak!’
“At first there was silence. Then the gate opened. A tall slender man emerged from the fortress and beckoned me to follow him, saying ‘The Lady of the castle will speak to you. Come quickly.’ So I followed, and he led me to a great hall. It was dimly lit and made of black stone. At the far end of the hall sat a simple throne of dark wood. Above it were eight red gemstones, set in the wall. They seemed to stare down the hall, searching out whatever weakness could be found in those who approached the throne. I knew they saw in me my fears of what happened to Lord Kilomond, my knowledge that I could not defeat Milyos in my own strength, and a growing realization that I had made a grave mistake in coming here.”
Tilsitar shuddered, clutching her sides before continuing.
“She sat on her throne in her black stone armor with a faint, knowing smile. ‘Come,’ she said to me, rising as she did, ‘We have much to speak of and you may be of great use to me. For you are not the only one who has come to me seeking my aid.’ We spoke long, for though she has many spies that go to and from in the land, there was much she wished to know. I could not resist her. I told her everything she asked for. Of why I was there. Of Kilomond and the mountain Milmota. Of you, Coraadrin. Of what I had done in Irrkengrond, and everything that I knew about Milyos’ master work. When I had finished speaking, she led me to a great cavern beneath her fortress, telling me ‘I will teach you how to fight Milyos; train you to use your hammer and your fire to slay him in battle. For if what you say of how his phail was crafted is true and that you destroyed it, he is no doubt weak in this moment. But you must do something for me. I will give you an army that will draw the attention of the city’s forces so you may face down Milyos without their interference. But you must strike down Ikata’s wretched walls. You must breach them so that my army might enter the city and sack it. They will make it utterly uninhabitable.’ I was terrified hearing her speak. Surely, she could kill me in this place. Then she lit a basin of oil that cast great light into the cavern seemingly lifting some supernatural shadow. A great hoard of warriors and monstrosities writhed below. ‘These you shall lead,’ she said, ‘you shall be my hammer that crushes that city and grinds its walls to dust.’
“So began my training. She was an exacting mistress. In the morning I trained to battle Milyos, learning to turn my hammer into a dancing menace, and my fire into a concentrated weapon. She showed me how I might track him down should he flee. In the afternoon’s, I would rest and Kilomond’s voice would stir in me hatred for any who opposed him. By night, I learned how to command an army. How to march them through an enemy’s land unnoticed. How to give orders on a battlefield. Much responsibility was given to me. Acretia sat at my right hand an elf whose name was Vorsul. He would serve as my commander when I would have to break the wall of Irrkengrond and battle Milyos. He also guided me when Acretia attended to other matters. I do not know how long I was there but eventually I made another horrifying discovery.”
“It was late in the evening and I was attentive in my studies. Vorsul accompanied me, attending to various missives. I do not know why but I looked up, across the table, to see what he was looking at. The letter he held in his hands was strange. It seemed like thinly hammered gold with script carved into it. I could not make out much of the letters contents but the name that signed it at the bottom I knew. Aientas, ruler of the old heavens. Vorsul must have heard me shudder when I saw it. He set the letter down and looked at me. In a cold, commanding voice he said ‘Surely you did not think that your master is the only one who longs to see Milyos removed? Be grateful for Aientas’ intervention. We have taught you many secrets of how to defend against Milyos’ magic. Where did you think we learned them?’ That was a grim night. Soon after, Acretia declared that I was ready. That the time had come for me to march on Irrkengrond.”
“Before we left she gave me one last gift. Armor of black steal. She said it would ward off many of the spells of Milyos. I hoped she was right. I can only assume that its craft was informed by what Aientas had told them.”
Tilsitar let out a deep sigh, her eyes lifted to the sky.
“We journeyed in secret, slowly moving sections of the army across the land. Vorsul was very skilled in this. Especially at hiding the great war beasts. The state of the city of Irrkengrond also worked to our advantage. They were so lost delving in their own secrets and mysteries they rarely looked beyond their walls or their labs. Perhaps those who searched the lands in their scrying mirrors saw us gathering, but if they saw us approach, their voices held no sway over those who could have martialed their forces to stop us.”
“When we assembled on the field in front of the city, they sounded their horns of alarm, but no force came out to meet us. They sealed the gates on the north east of the city. Our force was not large enough to surround the city, so we set about our work quickly. Sorcerers shielded me as I approached the wall. The mass of the army pressed in behind me, hiding themselves from the arrows and spells that rained down from the wall behind shields or magic or the great war beasts as best they could. When we reached the base of the wall it was so quiet, so still… and then I struck the wall. It did not break on the first strike but it seemed as if the whole city shook before the blow. I raised up Heavenmaker again and the second time I struck the wall I poured my fire into it and I felt it melt away before me. The great stones shattered underneath it. Many were thrown backward into the city and before me stood a great gap in the wall. I felt the hoard pour in around me. My obligation to the Lady of War had been fulfilled. I had breached the walls of Irrkengrond.”
“Then it is as I feared,” said Coraadrin, “I had hoped it was not so.”
“Indeed fair healer,” replied Tilsitar, “But the mission my master set before me was not complete. I marched straight to the base of the tower, the chaos of the sprawling battle behind me. I broke down the door to the great hall with a single strike and crushed the king and his guard with ease. I bellowed my challenge into the hall. ‘Come out god of magic! Face retribution for usurpation of my master’s creations!’ The hall stood empty for a moment. Then slowly from the ceiling he seeped into the room, his swirling cloud settling high in the rafters of the hall.
“He said to me ‘What crime have I levied against you or your master here, bellows women? Leave the concerns of greater works to greater gods, lest I crush you.’ I trembled with rage at this base insult to my master. He may not have been present but he was no lesser god. Kilomond’s voice was screaming in my head as well ‘KILL HIM! KILL THE DEFILER!’ So I leapt into the air and swung Heavenmaker into the great cloud. It swirled out of the way condensing into a human form. He stood so very still, floating in the air on the opposite side of the hall. ‘Very well,’ he said, ‘behold arcane power.’ Suddenly, the very walls of the tower came alive, arms and legs reaching out to grab me or strike me. I swatted them away whilst charging towards him. When I was almost upon him, a hand sprung up from the floor and caught my leg, but before I could be restrained I threw Heavenmaker at him and struck him in the chest. He and the hammer flew through the wall at the back of the hall and out into the city.”
“I discarded the hand that held me and followed him into the city. I found him a short distance from my hammer. I took up my hammer again and he swirled once more into his cloud. Points of light shown bright within and suddenly spears of clear crystal flew from the cloud. One struck me in the side as I dove out of the way cracking my armor. I summoned up a cloud of smoke to obscure his vision. He floated above the haze once again as a man. I waited patiently for a moment in the smoke before I leapt up from the smoke and grabbed his leg slamming him down to the ground. We wrestled there for a moment, before he changed back into a cloud and began to envelop me. As he did, he drew all heat into himself becoming cold. I could see the very air around us freezing. I struck at whatever part of the cloud I could in that moment, for I was sure that he would kill me as the cold pried its way under every crevice of my armor. My hammer found purchase against him and I pushed my fire out of it. He recoiled from the heat, now once more a man.”
“‘You have prepared for this fight, I see,’ he said. I did not reply but braced myself for the next entanglement. I rushed at him swinging Heavenmaker but he summoned his crystals in many shapes to fend me off. Even so I struck a few glancing blows upon him. Then a great force caught my chest. He seemed to disappear for a moment before reappearing far down the street. ‘You have prepared well for this fight’ he said. It seemed that his voice was somewhat ragged now, as though he were growing tired. His eyes flashed a dark milky blue. I felt a wind begin to swirl around us. He stretched out his hand and uprooted a small tower from nearby and held it above him as a spear. I ran toward him as quickly as I could hoping to reach him before the tower crashed down on top of me but it was no use. A hail of stones fell around me and I was buried beneath it in darkness.”
“When I awoke under the mound of stones, I was astonished to be alive at all. But it seemed the armor given to me by Acretia had some enchantment upon it which preserved my life. My left arm was mangled, but I could feel Heavenmaker in my right. So I began to twist my body as best I could, hoping to somehow dig myself free. Slowly, painfully, I swam my way through the ocean of stone, until I broke into the light of day. I dragged myself up, supporting myself on Heavenmaker. When my vision cleared I could not believe my eyes. There was Milyo standing before me discussing some aspect of the battle with but a few commanders. Kilommond screamed in my mind ‘KILL HIM! KILL HIM!’ I composed myself for a moment to gather all of the strength I could muster and I rushed him. Heavenmaker came down over my head. I felt it connect with his shoulder for a moment before he swirled into the sky again a cloud. But this time was strange. It seemed as though pieces of his essence dripped down behind him. I knew that he was hurt and that I would not get another chance. So I jumped into the air crashing into his cloud, grasping onto any part of his being I could find. As I did I unleashed all the fire I could find into his cloud. I heard him scream. A terrible, horrifying scream… and rushing noise filled my ears as I was thrown away to the ground. When I hit the ground, I looked up and I saw his cloud burning for a moment before it extinguished and turned black for just a moment. Then a sound like thunder split across the city. Wind rushed past in all directions, radiating from the spot where he burned. And then it was silent. Ash began to fall around me. I stumbled to where Heavenmaker had fallen, and I crawled into the crater.”
Colthan began to gently weep at these words. Coraadrin moved around Tilsitar to comfort him, holding him in a gentle embrace. She looked back to Tilsitar as she sank to her knees.
“I have killed Milyos,” said Tilsitar, as if she were just now realizing the horror of her actions, “I looked around the destroyed city at the broken bodies of mortals and wept, because I had destroyed so many of my master’s great works. Yet the voice of my master has not left me. Even now he tells me that he is coming. That he will wipe the earth clean. Cast his mortal forms into a great furnace to be smelted down and made again pure, without the influence of other gods. He will not stand to have his work possessed by another. He can no longer see the good in his own work anymore. He has gone mad and wishes to wield me as a weapon against anyone who would stop him. He speaks of vengeance and wrath, and I am afraid because I always hear his voice!”
On saying this, Tilsitar collapsed on to her side shaking and weeping, seeking desperately for some relief from the driving voice of Kilomond.
