When Coraadrin and Colthan set out once again to the world, they set out north east from the Fillian Desert, following the foothills of the Pallas Mountains until they reached the coast. They did not cross the Pallas Mountains into the domain of Acretia, lest the lady of war determined to harry them. Rather they turned south, moving down the coast, ministering to the remnants of the sea giants who had settled all along the shore after the Lady of War shattered their stronghold of Bidboaln.
Coraadrin and Colthan continued to follow the shore until they reached the ruins of Bidboaln, crossing the bay to the Cape of Aln. There, on the western edge of the bay, they set up the tent that Tilsitar had given them, with the door facing the fallen home of the sea giants. Coraadrin sat in front of the tent gazing out over the city. Colthan emerged from the tent standing over her shoulder, following her gaze to what remained of Bidboaln. Seeing that she was deep in thought, Colthan sat next to his wife.
“What is on your mind, my love?” asked Colthan.
Coraadrin did not respond for a long period of time. “Mortals are so fragile. Even as we fight the creep of disease, preserving life by life, there is always somewhere we are not. A person I cannot heal!” Her voice rose with frustration as she spoke. “I watch generation after generation lead short and brutal lives in one place and long and full ones in another. So many of them die before they have ever seen any goodness in the world and others waste what they do not realize has been given. I wish they were all given the gift that I have been given.”
Colthan looked down at the ground, thinking for a moment. Taking his wife’s hand in his own, a deep sigh emanated from the god of hospitality. “You have seen what great lengths it took to give you what you desire to give all of your fellow mortals. You and I were fortunate to bring my mother, Ikata, and Tilsitar to aid in your plight.” Colthan looked deeply into his wife’s eyes. “It is the habit of the gods to think of mortals so broadly. All the gods gave their gifts to all mortals…” His voice trailed off for a moment, collecting his thoughts. “They think of the protection of all mortal races. It is unusual for us to think of mortals as individuals. Even for myself. It is part of why my curiosity was so piqued by a woman whom my mother would come to meet herself.”
“But I am not unique among mortals,” said Coraadrin. “My love for my mother is not unique. Perhaps my fervor in prayer was beyond other mortals… Though many fervent prayers were offered during the war with Acretia.”
“Perhaps,” replied Colthan, “It is not something we can know unless we ask her. Though it does not matter for what you desire. Only Silnethren’s gift, the preservation of souls, changed the fate of mortals as individuals. His is the gift that looks to their individuality. Both kinds of gifts are good to be sure, but Silnethren’s is certainly the rarer.”
“Are you saying that only Silnethren would consider re-embodying mortal souls?” asked Coraadrin.
“I do not know,” replied Colthan. “He is most likely to support the idea of creating new bodies for the mortal souls that dwell in his hall. I imagine that Ikata could be swayed by the artisanship of such a thing. I do not know if Tilsitar would be willing to help. It may remind her too much of her work with her master. She certainly sees you as a continuation of Kilomond’s work. She may desire to be free of such memories.”
“Then we must go speak to Silnethren.” Coraadrin rose from and turned to enter the tent. “Come let us rest for the night. Then set out north for Silnethren’s halls.”
They departed the ruins of Bidboaln traveling north until they passed the mouth of Saau river where they turned west. The couple did not traverse the Great Plateau, but traveled the stretch of land between the southern edge of the plateau and the sea. For since the ash that fell from the sky after the death of Milyos touched the ground, the plateau had become a sterile and inhospitable scrub land. The peoples who inhabited the many cities and towns that once populated the dominion of Irrkengrond had left the land for their crops failed and their livestock died for no discernible cause everywhere the ash touched. Only nomads of the Trillmam people traversed the Great Plateau, and Coraadrin and Colthan had taught the Trillmam many times as they encountered them in their travels.
As they traveled west, when the couple reached the place where the Peltisha and Kelost-kel meet, they felt a tremor in the earth. After the tremor passed, they discussed what the cause of such a thing might be and decided that they should travel north to Mount Milmota, as the mountain was along the path they would take to the northern wastes where Silnethen’s hall stood and the tremor might be some sign of the return of Kilomond.
Seven days later another tremor shook the earth and tremors came the further north they traveled. Each was more intense than the last, and the time between earth shakes became less and less as they approached the mountain. By the time Colthan and Coraadrin reached Rosdoros, the city of the great turtles, the earth shook everyday. The couple stopped briefly in the city and discussed what the cause of the earthquakes might be with the sages of the city, but they could offer no natural cause. All they could say is that shortly after the tremors began, the Wild Lady had passed through the city on her way to the mountain, Milmota. Thus, the pair set out to cross the last stretch of land between them and Mount Milmota, and hoped that they may find Kalikel at the mountain.
Kalikel stood at the base of the scorched southern face of the mountain when Colthan and Coraadrin arrived. She looked up the slope of the mountain to its summit where a thin trail of smoke rose into the sky.
“Hello, Colthan,” the goddess of the wild said as the couple approached her. She did not turn to face them as she spoke. Rather her eyes remained fixed on the peak of the mountain. “Your scent traveled before you in the wind. I thought that you traveled alone, but when you came close enough that I could hear your footsteps, it became clear that you traveled with a companion. Who are they? I have never heard footsteps like theirs, and I cannot smell them, even this close.”
“She is my wife, Coraadrin,” said Colthan, “We were hoping we would find you here. We felt the tremors from the mountain and thought that we should investigate. We feared… Well, we feared that your brother may return…”
“You are wise to do so.” Kalikel’s sharp tone interrupted Colthan. She now turned, looking at the couple. “I know no other explanation for why this is happening. I have seen the earth shake many times, but not so greatly or with such frequency. The wild goddess paused for a moment, regarding Coraadrin. “I have never seen any spirit or mortal like you before,” she continued, her eyes narrowed as she began to circle the couple, seeking to understand what her eyes beheld.
“I was born a mortal. When I died, through the works of your brother Silnethren; the architect, Ikata; the great mother Myliayar; and the bellows woman, Tilsitar, I was given a new body. Silnethren preserved my soul. Iakta built my body. Myliayar enchanted it so that my body would be nigh unbreakable and Tilsitar wove my soul to the body.” Coraadrin said bowing slightly, “It is an honor to meet you, Kalikel.”
Kalikel was silent, considering what had been said. However, she did not have much time to ponder the stone women that stood before her.
“So what shall we do if Kilomond does in fact return?” asked Colthan.
Kalikel stopped circling the couple. She stood beside them, all three facing the mountain.
“Go and find Silnethren. Bring him here,” said Kalikel, “When I saw him last near the head waters of the Fellon River, he was returning to his crystal hall with many souls. I will stay here and wait and watch. I do not wish to confront Kilomond alone. But it would be better for me to be here when he returns than for him to return to no one.”
“Are you sure you do not want one of us to stay with you?” Coraadrin said.
“Yes,” replied Kalikel flatly. “Your husband is not a warrior. Nor in my estimation are you. Kilomond’s wrath can be fierce and I do not know what state he will be in when he returns.”
“You are right that I am not a warrior,” said Coraadrin, “I am a healer. Perhaps I could treat your brother when he returns?”
“I do not know if he would permit it,” responded Colthan, “He may see you as a perversion of his work and seek to destroy you, my love.”
“Which is why you should go. I do not wish to provoke him without reason,” said Kalikel, “Find Silnethren and bring him here. If Kilomond’s anger still burns against Silnethren, we will settle it as family. You need not risk yourself.”
“Very well. We sought him out already though not for this purpose.” said Coraadrin. “We will find the Lord of Death.”
After Coraadrin and Colthan left to find Silnethren, Kalikel sat at the base of the mountain, waiting for the Forge Lord in a small grove of conifers. Often she paced the grove, speaking to the trees of her apprehensions and hopes for what Kilomond’s return might mean. She watched the mountain day and night, its steady column of smoke rising to the sky from its peak, while she passed between the trees. She found no comfort in the blackened southern face of the mountain. Rather, the charred earth brought to her only concern of what Kilomond may do to all things wild.
When eight days had passed since the couple left her, the tremors began to come many times in the same day until it seemed that the earth shook relentlessly with no end in sight. Kalikel struggled to keep her feet beneath her. The earth shook for five nights consecutive days. As the sun rose at the end of the fifth night, the tremors ceased. Then Fire burst forth from the peak of the mountain. Lava flowed down its sides and ash filled the air. A great wind swept away from the mountain. Kalikel stood her ground against it, but the trees of the grove were swept away by the great force. Soot and ash covered the Goddess of the Wild, as she strained against the wind, waiting for the skies to clear. Eerie silence settled as soot and dust fell to the ground. When the light of the sun broke through debris filled air, Kalikel looked again to the peak of the mountain. A ragged figure stood at the top of the mountain, its shape familiar to the Goddess of the Wild.
Kilomond, the Forge Lord, had returned.
The figure of Kilomond, stumbled forward out of the crater at the peak of the mountain falling on his hands and knees. Ash and smoke filled his lungs. But the forge lord did not cough it out. Rather, he looked to the sky and exhaled forcefully, and a great plume of fire rose to the sky. Invigorated by the reminder of his own strength, he stood. The great plumes of ash and dust began to clear as he did and the sun touched his face for the first time in what seemed to him to be an eternity. As he descended the mountain, he moved slowly, his body still adjusting to the feel of solid ground. His hair had grown ragged and unkempt, as had his beard. His body once robust from work of the forge had grown thin from the demands of the void. His forge apron was torn in many places and hung loosely around his frame. A strange black scar ran down his left arm which was bare, the sleeve having been ripped from his tunic. At his side hung a black sword that seemed to be crafted from the void itself.
When Kilomond reached the base of the mountain, he did not hear Kalikel approach him. To Kilomond, it seemed as if his sister simply appeared from among a grove of toppled trees.
“It is good to see you again, brother,” said Kalikel, standing some distance from the forge lord.
“Kalikel?” Kilomond’s voice was desperate and ragged, as though his throat clawed forth memories of long unused motions in the hope that they would become part of the rhythm of their life again. “Is that you? Or are you another devilish trick of the void seeking to torment me?”
Kalikel straightened upon hearing the words of her brother, her muscles coiling.
“I know nothing of the void that you have returned from, brother,” she said. Her voice was firm as she spoke. She looked over her brother seeing the many tears in his clothes. She saw also the black scar on his arm. But what struck her most of all about her brother’s appearance was his eyes. Their fiery orange remained, but they had become sunken into the recesses of his face. The whites of his eyes were now a deep black, as though the void had seeped into his flesh and stained them. Yet Kalikel met their gaze unshaken, before she continued. “But I can assure you that I am no illusion of the deep darkness, nor a projection of your own mind.”
“Then I stand on the world we made?” asked Kilomond. He looked to his right and left, taking in his surroundings as he spoke.
“Yes,” replied Kalikel.
“And I see our fool brother is not here to greet me.” Kilomond observed in a rough, dark laugh. As he said this, his right arm tensed and Kalikel noticed for the first time that he held in his right hand a stone tablet.
“He is coming. What is it you have brought with you from the void?” asked Kalikel gesturing at the tablet. Kilomond held the tablet up so his sister could see it.
“Our fool brother wrote it,” said Kilomond, “I suppose he threw it into the void after me. He speaks of welcoming me home in it, yet he is not here.”
“We were unsure if you would ever return, nor did we know what signs might portend your coming,” said Kalikel. The wild goddess began to circle Kilomond now. Kilomond did not turn his eyes to follow her but instead stared straight ahead. His voice was cold when he spoke again.
“It is for the best that he is not here,” said Kilomond, tucking the tablet into a pocket of his apron. “Crossing the void has taken much of my strength. I do not know if I would be able to defeat him if I were to battle him now…”
“So it is still your intention to destroy the mortals that you made?” asked Kalikel.
“Yes,” said Kilomond, his voice cold. “I have thought of little else in the void.” His eyes flared as the words passed from his lips. “No matter how far I fell in the void, I could feel the thoughts of my servants. It was as though they reverberated through its very substance of the space I found myself in. They showed me glimpses of the mortals I had made. How they were changed and shaped by the world around them, and by the acts of the gods.”
“The world around them?” Kalikel’s reply came quickly on the heels of Kilomond’s words, her head shapely tilting to the side.
“Yes,” came Kilomond’s reply. “It will be no easy task without Thalachou or Tilsitar or even a forge.” A harsh laugh punctuated his words. “I suppose I shall have to begin by constructing one to make the tools by which I will break down the world.”
Kalikel continued circling Kilomond, crouching slightly, on hearing these words.
“So you will tear down the very world mortals were made for as well?” Anger and confusion filled her voice as she spoke. “The world we made together?”
“Do not think that I have not seen your influence on mortals, Kalikel?” sneered the Forge Lord, his eyes tracking the Wild Lady. “I see how they have taken what you filled the wild with and made it their own. Their very lives revolve around your seasons! When they can grow the crops they took from your wilderness and when they clothe themselves in skins to hide from the winter chills you ordained! Duplicitousness does not suit you sister! You act as though you are here to greet me, to welcome me home, but you are here to see if you might save your wilds from my wrath! You don’t care what happens to mortals! You care only for what is yours as I care for what is mine!”
“I make no secret of my desire to sway you from your course of action.” snapped Kalikel in reply. Kalikel turned away from Kilomond. “I wept for you when you were banished. I could not see why Silnethren had acted so rashly in response to your decision to undo what was your own. I had struck out on my own to make something that was mine, it seemed right that you should do the same. But a strange thing happened. I grew to care for the work of others.” Her eyes rose to the horizon, lost in thought. She continued though it seemed as if she was speaking more to herself than her brother. “It was strange. Many mortals ravaged nature, and I took revenge on them as was my due. But as they spread, and my encounters with them became more common, I realized that they could not survive without the wild that surrounded them. They created enclaves of civilization, but every component of what they made came from what I had made. Even in the city Ikata gifted them it was so… I began to realize that even though I did not heed your call to give gifts to your creations, I had already given them so much. Shaped them in my own way.”
A harsh snort came from Kilomond. “And you think this gives you some claim to determine their fate? You are as arrogant as our brother!”
“No…” Kalikel’s voice trailed off as she turned to face Kilomond. Her eyes came into a sharp focus upon him. Her voice was firm when she spoke again. “I watched mortals spread throughout the world and as they did they brought out new things of beauty from the wild. Fields of waving grain. The fruit of a well kept orchard. Houses built under the shade of great oaks. Things not of the wild, yet made from the wild, in concert with it. And I found them beautiful.” Kalikel’s eyes softened as she continued, pleading with Kilomond. “What you made is so good. There is so much of you in them, if you will only see it. ”
Kilomond’s was neutral for a moment, but only for a moment. Then his countenance darkened and his jaw set in wrath. “So you oppose my purpose, then sister?”
“Yes,” said Kalikel. “I had hoped that I might sway you from this course. I see that this will not happen. It grieves me that you cannot see what is beautiful in them. What is beautiful in yourself.”
“You speak like Silnethren! Mortals must be mine and mine alone!” roared Kilomond, unsheathing the eerie blade that hung at his side. Raising its point to Kalikel, he spoke with a deep growl. “You have said it yourself! Your wilds have shaped mortals as well! You impinge on my work like all the rest! I will strike you down if I must!”
“So be it, beloved brother,” said Kalikel. As she spoke, her form began to change. Her flowing black hair began to become like fur, and her hands and feet grew wide sprouting claws taking on the shape of a great bear.
As her transformation completed, she set upon Kilomond swatting his blade aside with one gigantic paw and striking him in the side with the other. Driven to the ground, Kilomond rolled away from Kalikel’s body. He attempted to stand so that he could bring his blade to face his sister, but, as he rose, Kalikel’s bulk trampled over him. In desperation, he flicked blade where found purchase in one of Kalikel’s paws. She roared in pain, rising onto her hind legs. Kilomond stood quickly, backpedaling away from his sister. Keeping his blade trained on Kalikel, who collected herself in the moment of pain, Kilomond’s eyes flicked around searching for any advantage he could find in the terrain. Finding none, inhaled deeply, then spewed forth fire, dark in color, creating a wall of flame between the two of them. Kalikel, seeking to prevent Kilomond from escaping, leapt through the flames. The smell of burning fur filled the air as she crashed down on the empty space where Kilomond had been standing only moments before.
Kilomond lunged forward, hoping to impale his sister, but his body was weak and slow from his journey across the void, and Kalikel’s senses were sharp. As the blade came close to her flesh, she turned violently, the back of her meaty paw striking Kilomond across the face. Kilomond was lifted off his feet, flying back through the wall of flames. He landed hard on his side, blood trickling down the side of his face into his beard. Realizing his weakness, he retread from the wall of flame. Kalikel, knowing that she had the upper hand, lumbered around the fire as she did not wish to burn herself again.
When she came around the edge of the flame, she found only a billowing plume of smoke that grew and coiled, creeping in every direction. When it reached her, it burned her eyes, and filled her nose so that she could smell nothing else.
“So you flee now, brother?” she bellowed into the smoke. Her claws swung wildly through the smoke, since she could not see or smell Kilomond. “You know I will be able to find you no matter where you go! You cannot flee beyond the wild!”
“Yes, that is true” came a whispered reply that seemed to come from everywhere the smoke was. “I know I cannot defeat you now, for I am weary and weak. But when we clash again I will have regained my strength and prepared for you.”
“Go,” snarled Kalikel, patrolling through the smoke. “When we battle again, know that only one of us shall walk away.”
“Very well, sister.” Silence followed Kilomond’s reply as he vanished into the vapors
Kalikel allowed her bear form to slip away as she waited for the smoke to clear. Her eyes were red and teary from the smoke. But she did not weep. For she had already grieved Kilomond twice over. Calling to herself all manner of wild birds, The Wild Lady instructed them to search out Kilomond, and follow him wherever he may go. Then when he had settled in a place to prepare for the destruction of mortals, the birds should return and tell her where The Forge Lord had gone. Now, she waited for Silnethren to be brought to the mountain by Coraadrin and Colthan and prepared for the battle ahead.
