Gloomwalker

by Alex Lang

  “What if the relics have been moved, due to my recent visit?” Kyris asked.

  “It is possible, but I think it is more likely they increased their security, rather than relocate the relics.”

  “Why would that be?”

  Caldir tapped his chin with a finger in consideration. “I think it would be best if I show you something. Excuse me for a moment.” He rose and exited the parlor.

  Kyris sat there processing what Caldir was asking of him. He supposed there was a shrewdness to Caldir’s thinking. Who would expect another intrusion so soon after the first?

  Caldir returned with a small ceramic bowl with a lid on top, which he set upon the table between them. Caldir lifted the lid and a bright white light shone from within, causing Kyris to look away. Using a rag of leather, Caldir reached in and picked up the source of the light, then held it out to him. “Careful.”

  He hesitated a moment, then took it with the leather scrap. It was warm and grew hotter the longer he held it. It was the size of a small river rock and smooth, as far as he could tell without touching it directly. “What is it?”

  “That, my dear Kyris, is a quartz lantern, minus the quartz. I took a hammer to the largest one I could get, and that was inside. It is difficult to discern with it shinning so, but what you have in your hand is a small piece of rune-etched relic-ore.”

  Kyris’s confusion must have been clear.

  “The artificers have somehow discovered the ability to refine or smelt relic-ore, the substance that… well, relics are made of. No small feat, as it was always thought to be indestructible. I have my theories… Suffice to say, I believe very special equipment is required. No common forge or crucible could accomplish this.”

  Kyris remembered the odd container next to the forge, and Grunul’s interest in it.

  “So, to your earlier question. I believe the relics are still there because the equipment for working the relic-ore is still there.”

  Kyris had always heard that relics were godscraft. That the artificers could destroy these items and forge them anew…

  He placed the glowing rock back in the container and closed the lid. From his pocket he withdrew a square of folded cloth. He pulled on a small chain revealing the light crystal he had stolen. He held it up, dangling. “You’re saying there’s relic-ore within the crystal?”

  Caldir eyed the crystal. “A sliver, given the size, but yes.”

  “Is it the same light that the keepers summon, and from the Spire?” The thought that he might carry a piece of Allithor’s blessing upon his body was… unsettling.

  “That I cannot say for certain,” Caldir answered.

  “But the light isn’t white, it’s yellow.”

  “That may be more the crystal itself than the source.”

  “How did they get the ore into the quartz?” It was hard to tell, but he could see nor feel any seam.

  Caldir shrugged. “Much of how the torches are constructed remain a mystery, but given time, I’m confident the methods will be deduced.”

  Kyris tucked the small crystal away. “So the artificers can make real relics, then?”

  “No. I do not believe so. Otherwise, we would see every keeper with a flamestaff and every Vigilant warrior with a brightblade. Something must be missing still. Something that prevents them from just copying the existing relics. These light-stones are a wonder, to be sure, but mainly because they were made by our hands and not the gods. But there is also a…” Caldir paused as if searching for the right word, “primitive quality to them. A lack of elegance. As if we are just learning what the gods had mastered. Perhaps it is only a matter of time, but I do not believe the artificers are capable of making true artifacts of power, not on the same level as the gods.”

  “Then why would they destroy powerful relics to make a new type of torch? Ordinary fire does that well.”

  “I suppose an argument could be made about the value of the divine light over the mundane kind. Oh, and you can be certain that Tesrini relics aren’t the ones being destroyed.”

  Kyris tilted his head, certain he had misheard. “What do you mean? All relics are Tesrini.” The gods of Tesrin had crafted and gifted objects of power to their children to help combat the foulspawn of Mezu Vos.

  Caldir gave a sly smile. “Oh, my boy. There is much to tell, and as much as I would like to unburden you of the many misconceptions you hold, I do feel, however, that time is crucial and very short concerning this last task.”

  He didn’t appreciate the condescension, but Caldir was right, he thought. What did he care of relics? This was the last task, that’s all that mattered. “You still don’t know for certain that there are relics there. I could go back and find nothing.”

  “That is a possibility that I am willing to accept. If I am wrong and the compound holds no relics, I will still consider this task satisfactorily complete.”

  Kyris’s mouth dropped open, and he stared at Caldir with disbelief. “You’d trust my word if I said there was nothing?”

  Caldir chuckled. “It is always so refreshing discussing these matters with you. But yes, I’ve placed a great deal of trust in you already, and I see no reason to stop now.”

  Kyris nodded slowly, but he couldn’t shake his skepticism. Did Caldir somehow know with absolute certainty that there were relics and was just testing him? “What relics am I to retrieve?”

  “Oh, everything they have, I suppose.”

  “What? You want everything?” Kyris threw his hands up. “Just how many relics are there?”

  “If the information gleaned from the ledger is accurate, then there should be around twenty relics, give or take. I do not know at what rate the artificers are destroying these things.”

  “How am I supposed to steal twenty relics?”

  Caldir gave Kyris a sympathetic smile.

  “Well, how big are these relics? Do you have descriptions?”

  “Ido not have the vaguest notion. The ledger does not go into detail concerning the individual relics. I suspect that information is contained elsewhere. However, I find the idea rather exciting, like receiving an unknown gift.”

  Kyris shook his head. “You want me to steal relics you don’t even know the nature of. To what end?”

  “To my own end, of course. Just trust they will be well utilized.”

  Kyris frowned, finding this a strange thing not to disclose given how much Caldir had already told him. No matter, he thought, it was just out of curiosity that he had asked.

  “Look at it this way,” Caldir said with a smile. “You are intimately familiar with the compound now, and they will never expect it.”

  “All three tasks against the Artificers of Falduin. I’m beginning to think you have a personal agenda against them.”

  “It is only business, Kyris. In truth, I rather admire what they seek to accomplish, although their methods are questionable, to say the least.”

  “Can I think on it?” Kyris asked.

  “Please do, but not too long.”

  Kyris once again lay behind the banisters atop the bell tower, looking down on the artificer compound, wracking his brain. How was he to accomplish this next task? Things appeared much the same as they had when he was last up there, except instead of the sounds of hammers on anvils, it was the sound of labor of a different sort. Carpenters and other workers had been summoned to repair the damage caused by the fire, a quarter of the building having been burnt. A corner had caved in, exposing the interior. The number of guardsmen was greatly increased, and they watched over the workers and the compound alike.

  The difficulties of this task were threefold, as he saw it. Finding the exact location of the relics was one. He didn’t relish wandering the compound, although he had his suspicions about likely possibilities. The second hurdle would be breaking into whatever storage area was holding the relics. It was bound to be protected by complex locks and possibly even traps. Then there was the last problem. How to transport twenty relics of unknown size and dimens
ions out of the compound? They could be anything, Caldir had informed him. A ring or an amulet. A sword or armor. Twenty pieces of jewelry would have been his preference, but he was not so loved by Shar for that.

  Kyris had spent a considerable amount of time contemplating lying to Caldir. It wasn’t his proudest moment, those being found less seldom of late, but he could not dismiss the option out of some sense of loyalty or honor. He was so close to his goal, and it would be so easy to state that there was nothing to pilfer. Perhaps too easy. If Caldir found out somehow or knew already that there were relics, then Kyris would have thrown all his efforts away, a single step from his goal. In the end, he decided that the task asked of him, though difficult due to the many unknowns, was not impossible, and that it would be safer to honor the agreement.

  Kyris directed his attention to the stone structure. Given some time to think on it and after conferring with Caldir, he had confirmed his earlier assessment, that the building was a temple to Lodd. An older construction of such buildings. Would the relics be held there? It made a certain kind of sense that such creations would be held within a house of the Forger.

  Kyris felt the relics were either within the temple or further down the underground tunnel from where the cells were located. Picturing the direction that the unexplored hallway led, it could very well connect to some structure beneath the temple. If that was the case, which way should he approach? The temple entrance or through the workshop again? The additional guardsmen didn’t discourage him whatsoever; they were just more shadows when viewed from the Gloom. The actual temple might prove more troublesome. Despite it being a smaller building, it appeared as though it was constantly occupied, regardless of the time of day.

  It was now midday, still plenty of time for him to do some additional scouting.

  His eyes lingered on the wagons and supplies left by the builders.

  Kyris smiled as a plan began to take shape.

  Kyris gazed up at the massive stone archway as he passed through it. His gawking must have marked him as a new visitor, as no sooner had he crossed the threshold was he approached by a man dressed in clothes that were once very well-tailored but were now threadbare and loose.

  “Greetings! First time to the wonder that is the Pavilion of the Gods?” Without waiting for an answer, the man reached out for Kyris’s arm, and he instinctively recoiled back. The stranger, unperturbed, continued. “Well, a knowledgeable guide is what you need, friend. For a pittance of twenty-five tals, all there is to know of the great Pavilion can be revealed to you.”

  Kyris’ first inclination was to refuse—the price was an offense for one, no doubt charged to travelers—but then he thought better of it. Having a guide might be exactly what he needed. “Very well.”

  “Excellent. Nivus, at your service,” the man said with a bow. While still holding the bow, he surreptitiously held out a hand.

  Kyris dug out the tals from his pouch and placed them in the outstretched palm.

  Nivus spared the slips a quick glance, then tucked them away in a vest pocket.

  “Right this way, my lord,” Nivus said, making a flourish with his arm. “The Path of Heroes.” The two walked upon a wide, stone-paved pathway flanked by rows of gray stone statues on pedestals. “Where the many great champions of the Imperium are honored. Here, we have—” Nivus had stopped at the first statue, but Kyris walked on, forcing the man to catch up.

  “I wish to go directly to the temples,” Kyris said. He had no interest in these heroes, though he slowed a step and raised his eyebrows at the sight of a warrioress astride a giant eagle. He resumed his pace when it seemed Nivus was about to elaborate on the subject.

  Nivus fell in alongside him. “Excellent choice. Straight to the main course, then. The five great temples are a wonder to behold. We can start with Rumathil’s Hall of Visions and end with Allithor’s Cathedral of Light.”

  “I only wish to visit one temple in particular.”

  That gave Nivus pause. “Ah, a pilgrim. Wonderful. Surely makes my job easier… though I’d gladly guide you through all the marvels of the Pavilion, if you so wished. Which great god would you like to pay homage to?” Nivus eyed Kyris up and down as though he could discern the answer by his appearance alone.

  “Lodd.”

  “Ah, the temple to Lodd the Maker,” Nivus answered, assessing him with new eyes. “Are you an artisan?”

  “No, just a journeyman from Yond who wishes to honor the father of crafts.”

  “Yond, of course, of course.”

  The pair walked through another grand stone archway and entered upon a circle.

  “I give you the great the Pavilion of the Gods,” Nivus said with a bow and another arm sweep.

  Kyris had caught glimpses of the monuments before from afar, while floating upon the river and across the way on the eastern banks, though he only ever seen the tops of them. But there at the very base, their scope became apparent. The statues of the Tesrini gods towered like titans, and Kyris wondered briefly if the gods were this size but then dismissed the idea.

  “An astonishing sight to behold, is it not? Oh, what I wouldn’t give see them with fresh eyes. Even though I have seen them a thousand times, their splendidness still takes my breath away.”

  Obviously not, Kyris thought.

  “Now, the path to the temple of Lodd lies—”

  “On second thought, can you tell me about the statues?”

  “Oh, most definitely,” Nivus said with a knowing smile. It was clear he thought no one could breeze past such magnificent works without inquiring further, and perhaps he was right. “What kind of guide would I be, no, what kind of citizen of Vigil would I be if I could not give my fellow Tesrini from afar a history of our realm’s most wondrous creations? Second only to the Spire, I dare say.” Nivus made a supplicating gesture towards the light upon the Bluff, then took a moment to settle himself, clearing his throat. He then went into what was undeniably a prepared summary.

  “We stand within the Pavilion. Five statues, nay, monuments, each depicting one god of the Tesrin Court. The five great temples lay beyond, branching out from the circle like spokes of a wheel. Across from the entrance and largest of the five is the Savior, our Guardian, Allithor the Light. Carved of the finest marble and nine stories high, the statue took the most skilled craftsmen of…” Nivus continued on, but the words faded as Kyris stared intently upon the statue that depicted Allithor as a tall, muscular man, clean-shaved of face and head. The god wore an ornate breastplate and held high a staff with both hands. A giant version of the keeper’s flamestaff, all white, the top splayed out into sharp points, forming an antler-like basket. There was a sternness to the face, and the head tilted up, gazing skyward. Beneath the statue, set within the base, was an archway.

  “To Allithor’s right is the statue of Ormoss, the Shaper of Flesh, the Paragon of Form, the Mender. Ormoss was said to be the embodiment of physical perfection.” The statue depicted a handsome man with long hair to the shoulders. “The body is wrapped in ribbons of deep blue cloth, the fashion of which his descendants and followers emulate still to this day. The fabric is replaced every week so that no wear or fading ever show.” Ormoss’s expression was one of serenity and compassion. One of the statue’s hands was outstretched with care, and his gaze was downcast as if to aid someone injured before him.

  “Next we have Kalaa the Tempestborne, Maiden of the Skies, The Tamer of Storms, Mother of the Great Rukhs.” The statue was carved as a striking woman with sharp features, flowing hair intermingled with feathers, and the wings of a bird sprouting from her back. The wings were arched back and open as though she was descending from the heavens, and it reminded Kyris of the painting he’d seen in the Curunir study.

  “Ah, and here, of course, is your patron.” Nivus gestured towards a suit of armor made for a true titan. “Lodd the Forger, the Builder, the Architect, the father of innovation and invention. Portrayed here as the Warrior Smith, his is the only tribute not carved from st
one but rather represented by a full suit of armor said to be precise, accurate, and fully functional… if one were seven stories in height.” Nivus looked to him as though waiting for some response, but Kyris stared back blankly. He had only been half listening. The suit of armor was golden, ornate, and detailed in the style of ages past, showing the contoured metal musculature of the chest and abdomen. In one gauntleted hand was a smith’s hammer, and at the foot of the statue sat an anvil the size of a horse. The style of armor was different from the mysterious armored warrior at the artificer compound, but Kyris could not help but to think of him.

  “And the last to round out the Tesrin Court, we have Rumathil of the Countless Eyes, the Great Seer, the Mother of Prophecy.” The statue was of a woman swathed in an over-sized robe and covered in a hood which shrouded her features, though her stooped posture, wrinkled hands, and her epithet of ‘The All-Seeing Crone’ spoke clearly of her appearance. She held a wooden staff with a large gnarled head, and embedded within were several life-like eyes of varying types and colors. Made of glass, Nivus informed him.

  There was something off about the circle, with the arrange of the statues, a certain asymmetry. Kyris stared at the place where it seemed proper for another statue and pathway to be, but there was only a hedge wall.

  He dismissed the oddity and followed Nivus onto the path below the giant suit of armor towards the temple of Lodd. When the temple came within view, Kyris saw he had been correct. It was a larger version of the one situated within the artificer compound in Hammerfell. Whereas the smaller temple had depicted a single man carving stone, here the scene seemed to encompass the entire array of Forger endeavors, from simple crafts to the construction of Casrinndar’s Wall and everything in between.

  “Nivus, why are the temples of Lodd so similar in one fashion yet different in what is depicted upon the wall and within the courtyard? The ones I’ve seen in Yond and the outer districts do not appear as this.”

  Nivus looked to him with a confused expression, and Kyris knew he’d made a mistake. Perhaps this was common knowledge among any true disciples of Lodd. Nevertheless, the guide answered. “Temples of Lodd differ to reflect the different periods of architecture and development, or a particular significant innovation. Early temples were constructed of stone, and within hold demonstrations of stonework. The buildings reflect how construction methods have developed. The older ones are of rock, whereas most within the outer districts are constructed with wood and plaster. There’s talk that the Forgers plan a new temple constructed from steel alone. Can you imagine?”