Seventeen days after Kilomond had fled, Coraadrin and Colthan returned to Mount Milomota with Silnethren. When the couple found Silnethren, they told him of much of what had transpired. They told him of how Coraadrin’s body had been built in the new heavens. They also told him of Tilsitar and Acretia, as well as the fate of Irrkengrond. But much of their conversation focused on what signs indicated Kilomond’s return and what his return might portend. The three traveled at a break neck pace, and there was little conversation as they traveled. So it happened that when the three found Kalikel waiting for them at Milmota surrounded by many wild birds, Coraadrin had not spoken to Silnethren about what she hoped to accomplish for mortals.
“Sister!” called out Silnethren, carrying his silver spear in his right hand. His grey cloak billowed out behind him “Is it true? Is our brother returning? We felt a great quake in the ground and then all was still. Is he still coming?”
“He has already come, Silnethren,” Kalikel replied. Her eyes were filled with sadness and resolve as she spoke. Gesturing to the burned ground around her she continued. “But he has fled from here.”
“Fled?” said Silnethren, confusion writ across his face. “Did you battle him? Is he alive?”
“Yes, we did fight.” Kalikel sat on a stone stroking the grey feathers of one of the birds that surrounded her as she spoke. “And he is still alive. I spoke with him when he first emerged from the mountain.” Kalikel shook her head, looking at the ground as she continued. “Whatever madness found him when he first sought to destroy mortals has only deepened. He now speaks of breaking down the world in its entirety, so he may start again with no influence upon his works but his own.”
“I see…” said Silnethren, his voice trailing off.
“So then we must pursue him,” said Coraadrin, “If we find him, surely we can find a way to restrain him. Given enough time I may be able to heal his mind.”
“Perhaps,” responded Kalikel. “Every day we wait to confront him, he grows stronger.”
“Do we have any idea where he has gone?” asked Colthan.
“He fled south when he realized that he could not defeat me in combat.” Kalikel stood, taking the bird she had been gently petting into her hand. “I tasked the wild birds to find him. They have only recently returned. They say he has gone to Cri-ahk-askah.”
The name Kalikel spoke struck the ears of the other three gods who were present as some strange bird call. They exchanged confused looks at one another, before Silnethren spoke.
“Where is… Cri-ahk-askah?” His voice stumbled over the strange name in his mouth.
Kalikel smirked, a small snorting laugh escaping her. “It means ‘The Place of Unfinished Nests’ in the tongue of the seabirds. I am not surprised that none of you know what the birds speak about. You are far too concerned with mortals to ever have cause to go to such a place, for no mortals live there. There are some sea birds who go to its coasts and mountains to nest, but there are few even among the wild beasts who call it home. Most of the land there is a great black waste punctuated by places that spew fire and sulfur. There are no rivers and all the water that comes from springs is bitter. What does grow there is truly hardy, vines and lichens and a few trees. I myself have not been there since Boltumeth’s foolish proposition to me.”
“So why would Kilomond go there?” asked Colthan.
“He probably wants to set about crafting tools for himself away from the prying eyes of gods and mortals,” answered Silnethren. He paused for a moment. “So then we go to Cri-ahk-askah, and find Kilomond. I will try to persuade him away from destroying mortals. If that fails we will restrain him so that Coraadrin may try to heal his mind.”
An uneasy tension settled over the group as Silnethren finished speaking. Only the calls and shuffling of the wild birds filled the air. None were willing to voice what might need be done should they be unable to restrain Kilomond.
“Well, shall we four go then? I am not sure how I will cross an ocean with my body of stone, but I am sure we will find a way.” said Coraadrin.
“No,” Kalikel’s reply came quickly. Silnethren looked at Kalikel confused, as she continued “We do not have time to find a way for you to travel across the sea and there is a chance that Silnethren and I will be unable to defeat Kilomond…” Her eyes turned Coraadrin as she spoke. “If we do not return, you and your husband must rally all who would oppose him to prevent the destruction of the world.”
Silnethren’s face fell hearing these words. “Kali is right. You should go to Myliayer and Ikata. Tell them what has happened and that they should prepare to battle our brother.”
“Why should we both go?” asked Coraadrin, “Would my skill not be better used if I went with you?”
“Perhaps, but if we fail… Myliayar’s enchantments are powerful but Kilomond is no mere mortal.” Kalikel said, a grim look in her eye. She held up her wounded hand. Strange black lines crept outward from the wounds. “Even weakened, he struck a blow against me and the blade he wielded dark as midnight as though it was made from the void itself.”
“Why did you not show me this sooner?” Coraadrin’s voice was sharp with concern. She swiftly walked over to Kalikel and took hold of Kalikel’s injured hand. Immediately, the Goddess of Healing took a clean cloth from a pouch she carried with her and set about cleaning the wound. Kalikel attempted to pull her hand away from Coraadrin’s ministrations, but a stone hand quickly closed around her forearm, holding the Wild Lady’s arm in place.
“It will heal,” snapped Kalikel, frustrated by being held in place. Radiant light flowed from Coraadrin’s hand into Kalikel’s. As the energy passed from one goddess to the other, the wound slowly began to close. But to Coraadrin’s surprise, the black lines spidering out from the cut did not retreat. They only faded to a sickly grey color.
“Strange…” Coraadrin muttered, leaning close to inspect the wound. “I may need to see the weapon that inflicted this to properly heal this.”
“I am the Wild,” said Kalikel, freeing her hand from Coraadrin’s grasp. “I will heal. And now you see why you should not come with us. Much less the matter of your transportation.”
“If I do not go, how will I learn…” began Coraadrin, but Colthan interrupted her.
Giving a knowing look to his wife, he said, “We will inform Iakata and Myliayar of what has happened. Go and find Kilomond.”
Confused, Coraadrin looked at Colthan, opened her mouth to speak before closing it. Silently, she nodded, trusting Colthan’s intuition.
“Very well,” said Silnethren. “It is a grim task ahead of us.”
So the four set out south from mount Milmota, traveling together until they reached the coast. There Coraadrin and Colthan bid Silnethren and Kalikel farewell standing on the shore. The couple watched the siblings set out over the ocean.
When Kalikel and Silnethren were out of ear shot, Colthan turned to Coraadrin and said, “Come quickly. If you are to follow them we must go quickly to Rosdoros.”
A wide smile broke across Coraadrin’s face. Colthan returned the smile and continued, “You are right that we do not both need to go inform my mother of what has happened here. But winning an argument with Kalikel is almost impossible. One of the great turtles will surely be willing to carry you across the sea when we explain what has happened and that you need to go to the aid of the Wild Lady.”
“I knew you were scheming something,” laughed Coraadrin, playfully shoving Colthan. “It is not like you to interrupt me. Come, let us go quickly.”
So with the speed only possessed by the gods they went to Rosdoros, and spoke Oteso, the son of Higaro, who was a councilor of the city. When the couple explained that Kilomond returned and Kalikel must travel south to the Place of the Unfinished Nests, Oteso summoned Mizolo, the most accomplished cartographer and explorer of all great turtles, for he did not know where Coraadrin was seeking to go. Mizolo explained that the turtle knew the place as Nosrosul, which means “The Land of Towers”, and said that he would take Coraadrin to Coraadrin there as quickly as he could.
Thus, Coraadrin set out on the back of Mizolo to follow Kalikel and Silnethren, while Colthan made for the New Heavens in the Southern Skies.
Kalikel and Silnethren traveled across the sea in silence until the coast of Cri-ahk-askah came into view on the morning of the fourth day of travel.
As they continued to approach, Silnethren looked over to Kalikel.
“Kali,” he said, tone inquisitive, “why do the sea birds call it ‘The Place of Unfinished Nests’? You yourself said that the sea birds nest in the mountains there. Do the birds not complete their nests here?”
A small laugh left Kalikel’s voice as the pair set food on the beachhead. She looked over the land mass of Cri-ahk-askah, and pointed out into the distance. “Do you see those spires out in the distance, Sil?”
“Yes, I think I can make them out,” Silnethren replied, leaning forward slightly and narrowing his eyes. “What are they?”
“This was Ikata’s testing ground when she first conceived of the city of Irrkengrond,” said Kalikel. Silnethren raised an eyebrow healing this.
“Is that so?” said Silnethren. “I have never heard her speak of this.”
“I myself was surprised when I stumbled upon her slaving over constructions in the middle of the wastes.” A thin smile crept across Kalikel’s face as she spoke. “It was shortly after Kilomond first asked for gifts for his mortal forms. I still visited lands across the sea then, and I enjoyed the black stones and sands there, even if only the heartiest of things call it home.” The pair began walking towards the towers in the distance as Kalikel continued her story. “It was a strange thing indeed when I came across Ikata surrounded by massive quarried stones, portions of towers and walls built around her. She had even built complete models of the city in quarter and eighth size that covered huge portions of the land. She was deeply embarrassed when I found her. I think she was worried that I would be offended that she had taken this land from the wilderness. But truthfully there is so much land in this place that I did not mind.”
“So the birds call it Cri-ahk-askah because of Ikata prototypes?” said Silnethren, smiling at the strangeness of “I suppose that’s as good a reason as any to name a land…” Silnethren’s voice trailed off as they drew close to the first model of the Irrkengrond. He came to a stop to inspect it, confusion writ on his face. Its central tower was only as tall as the Lord of Death, its walls barely reaching his shins. After a moment, Silnethren also realized that this construction had an eight sided wall, rather than the six sided wall of the real city. Silnethren looked to his sister, then out across the landscape before him. A field of small towers stretched out before him growing in size as they trailed off into the horizon. Scattered throughout the strange scene were sections of walls, piles of cut stones and timber, and whole buildings all of various sizes and shapes.
“And she has also built a labyrinth I see.” Silnethren’s voice was tinged with frustration.
“Yes,” replied Kalikel, setting her ear to the ground, listening for something. “But I know how to find our brother.”
“Oh?” came Silnethren’s reply, his question not stated but understood.
“We follow the hammer strikes.”
Together the two worked his way through the maze of towers and walls in silence. Spread throughout these towers were storehouses of construction materials, of stone, metal, timber, and mortar. Lichen moss covered whole sections of the walls that were shielded from the beating sun and vines creeped up walls, cracking even the divine stone work. Every so often, the pair would stop, so that Kalikel could attend to the hammer strikes reverberating through the ground. They had picked their way through the tangle of buildings for three days, before the silence was broken. On the morning of the fourth day, after Kalikel had listened for Kilomond’s hammer, she stood and turned to Silnethren.
“We are close now, Sil,” she said, “But I heard something else. Footsteps. It seems as though someone is following us.”
“Do you have any idea who it might be?” asked Silnethren.
“I am not sure,” replied Kalikel. “The footsteps are… familiar.” Kalikel set her ear back to the ground, before continuing. “They are heavy and moving fast. There were only two who knew where we were going. Colthan and… ” The Wild Lady stood quickly. “It’s Coraadrin.” Kalikel frowned, clearly irritated that Coraadrin had not listened to her. .
“I know you told her not to come, but if she is here already there is no reason not to accept her help.” Silnethren’s voice was cool and calm as he reasoned with his sister. “How far are we from Kilomond in your estimation?”
“Another two or three days,” sighed Kalikel. “From what I can tell, he seems to have taken up residence in one of the largest constructions.”
“Then let us continue our approach slowly and steadily. We can get the lay of the land around where our brother has decided to make camp. It will help us in the battle to come.”
“Fine,” conceded Kalikel. She folded her arms and turned away from Silnethren. “But she must wait and hide when we confront Kilomond.”
“Very well,” said Silnethren. “Come on. There are plenty of buildings to investigate on our approach and it would serve us well to know our surroundings.”
So Silnethren and Kalikel continued to approach where Kilomond was working, but did so slowly, allowing for Coraadrin to catch up to them.
Coraadrin caught up to the siblings two days later as the sun was setting. Silnethren sat at the base of a section of wall. Crouched behind him on a section of wall that had crumbled was Kalikel.
“Alright brother.” Kalikel’s voice was soaked in irritation. “She is here.”
“It is my right to be here,” replied Coraadrin. Passion filled The Healer’s voice. “I am here to defend what I love, just as you.”
Kalikel’s eyes narrowed. “Fine,” she snapped. “But when we confront Kilomod you should stay hidden until we have restrained him or you are needed.”
“Very well,” said Coraadrin. “But I will not hesitate to act when the time comes.”
“Indeed!” Silnethren stood as interjected himself into the conversation. “Tell me, how did you get here?” He gestured for his sister to come down from her perch. “We still have some distance before we reach Kilomond, so I would like to hear how you found us so quickly.”
Kalikel dropped to the ground. Brushing past Silnethren and Coraadrin, she strode some distance away from the other two and set her ear to the ground to find Kilonmond’s hammer strikes again. Coraadrin raised an eyebrow at this, turning to Silnethren.
“One of the great turtles named Mizolo carried me across the sea,” replied Coraadrin. “I am glad to have had his help. He was faster than any ship I could have taken.”
Silnethren smiled as Coraadrin explained her method of travel. “That may be the fastest way for anyone to cross the seas.” Looking to where Kalikel listened to the ground, he approached her, gesturing for Coraadrin to follow him. “She is listening for where Kilomond works on whatever craft he is working on. We have been following the strikes of his hammer since we arrived here.”
“Ah,” said Coraadrin. “Then perhaps we should be quiet.”
“I have already found him,” interjected Kalikel. “If we continued now we would reach him in the pitch of night. I do not think we should confront Kilomond in the dark.”
“Agreed,” replied Silnethren. “Perhaps we go a little further and then find somewhere to wait out the night.”
“That would suit me well,” said Coraadrin. “For there is something I wish to speak to you about.”
The three went a short way until the trio found a tower large enough for the three of them to sit comfortably in to pass the night. Kalikel sat in the doorway, vigilantly watching the darkness. While she watched, she listened to Coraadrin explain to Silnethren her desire to give the mortal souls new bodies in greater detail. He listened intently to her heart felt longing for mortals to see all the good of the world and lead full lives beyond what even the longest lived mortal might experience. When she had finished explaining her desire, Silnethren contemplated what Coraadrin said for a long time. Then he spoke.
“You are right that many mortals lead short and brutal lives, and that many who lead long lives do not know what they have been given,” said Silnethren. “There is no balance in the randomness that seems to govern their deaths. So many mortals believe that I appoint their time of death. If it were so, I might then be able to bring such a balance to fruition.” He paused for a moment then let out a dry laugh, barely audible in the dark tower. “It would be a great effort to move all of the souls in my halls to new bodies. I could perhaps teach your husband how to guide them from my halls, but it is a delicate matter. One must be careful to ensure that souls do not become mixed up with one another or that you do not move more than one soul into the same body.”
“Could Tilsitar not help in this?” ask Coraadrin. “She guided my soul to this body.”
Another dry laugh came from Silnethren. “What Tilsitar accomplished is without doubt a truly masterful accomplishment. She was able to bind your soul to your body without ever directly speaking to you. She was able to bind you through sheer power of her forge craft. It was a solution that worked because there was only one soul in the stone. If I were to guide each soul to its own unique stone, it would certainly be possible for what she did to be repeated. But it would take me time to do such a thing. What you ask for requires skill beyond her.”
“So you are willing to help?” asked Coraadrin, her eyes shining brightly in the dark, hopeful for a new fate for mortals.
“Yes,” came the reply of the Lord of Death. “I am willing.”
