Shadow Slave

Jet and the Saints of Night studied the runes, their expressions turning somber. The Spell must have provided them with a better translation than Sunny’s own, but he was reasonably confident in his interpretation.

“Hell, huh?” Bloodwave’s voice did not sound enthused. Sunny smiled.

”Well, you know how it goes for us Awakened. We always get sent into the depths of hell — only to find another, even more dreadful hell at the bottom of that one. I’ve been to a place or two that are way worse than the worst depiction of hell humans could come up with... you must have, too.”

Bloodwave grunted in solidarity.

”Still, sounds quite ominous.” Sunny had no retort to that. He remained silent for a bit, then sighed.

“So Daeron visited the Eternal City as well...” Naeve was looking at the towering stele with an expression that betrayed a hint of reverence. Hearing Sunny speak of Daeron, he tuned to him.

“The Serpent King was the lone Supreme of the Stormsea civilization before it was consumed by the Dream Realm. We knew very little about him until recently, actually — it was the Exploration Report on the Tomb of Ariel that shone a light on his eventual end. Maybe you’ve heard about it?” Sunny glanced at him and smiled.

“Yeah. I’ve heard a thing or two.”

Naeve nodded. ”But even if we knew very little, we did discover traces of him all across the Stormsea. Most of the Citadels the House of Night used to inhabit are ruins of Daeron’s fallen kingdom, after all... even if most of it had been swallowed by the depths. He is a mythical figure.”

Naeve paused for a moment and added in a quiet tone: ”So, it feels strange to stand where he once stood, looking at the runes he personally carved into stone.”

Sunny remained silent for a while. He felt strange, as well, but for a different reason. To him, finding a message left by Daeron of the Twilight Sea felt like meeting an old friend.

“Do you think he came to the Eternal City once to claim the lineage of Storm God?” Naeve hesitated.

“I am not sure. If he did... it did not help him and his people, in the end.”

Sunny sighed. He studied the great stele some more, then said suddenly: ”I met Daeron once, you know-”

Naeve, Bloodwave, and Aether turned to him in shock. Jet raised an eyebrow, too. Sunny smiled.

“He was... a tough bastard.” One of the toughest Sunny had ever met, in fact. His soul still quaked in the throes of phantom pain at the memory of the Serpent King’s sharp fangs.

Sunny had met the Nightmare version of Daeron of the Twilight Sea and killed him. Then, he received a blossom from Wind Flower, Daeron’s daughter... her farewell gift.

‘If Daeron felt it necessary to leave a warning here, this place must be really bad.’ Which meant that Sunny needed to change his plans a little.

As the Saints of Night stared at him silently, he turned to Jet. ”The wharf is empty, so it is safe to dock the Night Garden there. I will scout ahead.” With that, he stepped into the shadows and vanished from the runic hall.

A second later, ignoring Daeron’s warning, Sunny appeared inside the dome protecting the Eternal City.

He respected the Serpent King a great deal, but knew that the hint of awe Daeron’s name invoked in him was a vestige of the past. In the past, Sunny had been a mere Master, while Daeron had been a Supreme. He had been an obstacle of such imposing height that even the thought of overcoming it seemed impossible.

Even if Sunny did kill him, in the end, it was only because Daeron had been a pale shadow of his former self, and half-dead from battling other ancient horrors on top of that.

But that was the past.

Now, Sunny was a Sovereign himself. In fact, he accomplished more than Daeron had managed... he made it further. He and his cohort conquered the Great River, at least, and while Daeron had seen no hope for his realm except to lead his people into the Tomb of Ariel as one last desperate gamble, Sunny and Nephis were steadily preparing to face the looming calamities on the battlefield.

They had a good chance of making it to the very end, as well.

They were stronger. And their people, the children of War, were stronger than the children of Storm had been, as well.

So, Daeron had not necessarily known better than Sunny, and his advice was not necessarily implacable.

‘Ah... maybe he was right, though?’

As soon as Sunny appeared within the dome of the Eternal City, he was overwhelmed by an ominous feeling — as well as a far more mundane feeling of discomfort caused by the fact that the air here was thin and cold, making him feel like he was suffocating. Grimacing, Sunny glanced around. ‘Something is telling me... that dying in the Eternal City is a very, very bad idea.’

There had to be a reason why Daeron had warned those trying to enter the drowned city to fear eternity.

The wharf worthy of accepting the Night Garden was similarly titanic, spanning more than a dozen kilometers in length and half as much in width, with walls that were as tall as mountains... literally. At first glance, Sunny judged that they were at least three kilometers high, partially submerged in water.

The water surprised him, actually. He would have thought that the dome would prevent it from flowing into the Eternal City entirely, but strangely enough, while the invisible barrier prevented the unfathomable mass of the sea from plummeting at the city from above, some of it did cover the black glass. The water seethed and swirled, flowing as it glistened in the silver light of the magnificent spires.

The main structure of the wharf surrounded a horseshoe-shaped berth, with huge gates facing the vast expanse of the Stormsea. The gates were currently open, and the berth was partially filled with water.

The walls of the wharf were built from stone, but inside, it was constructed out of wood. Everything around him was spotless and in pristine condition, with not a sign of wear in sight.

In fact, that was one of the reasons why Sunny felt so unnerved. He had not realized it before, but the world was supposed to show signs of the ruthless passage of time and display subtle imperfections. Even in the most well-maintained places, there were small flaws — scuffs, scratches, faded colors...

But everything in the Eternal City seemed brand new and absolutely spotless. That alone was enough to make his skin crawl, as if the world around him was not real.

The dissonance was eerie.

Not paying attention to the bridge connecting the wharf to the city just yet, Sunny concentrated on the interior of the gigantic structure itself. Just as he had perceived before, it was entirely empty, with no movement and no living shadows anywhere in sight — or hidden from view. ‘That’s... good, I guess.’

As Sunny turned to face the brilliant lights of the Eternal City, the bow of the Night Garden pierced the veil of the invisible barrier behind him. This text is hosted at novel⚑fire.net

… After thousands of years, the living ship returned to the place where it had been born.