Shadow Slave

It took Nephis some time to compose herself. Eventually, though, she managed to return to her usual self… almost. The knowledge of the Void seemed to have changed her faintly, making her seem more reserved and mature.

As if she had not already been too reserved and mature ever since being a teenager. Sunny sighed.

“So, how long has it been, exactly, since you passed through the tunnel? Your hair seems longer.”

Ananke nodded.

“Yes, my lady. By a few centimeters, at least.”

Nephis shrugged.

“I am not sure.”

She hesitated for a moment, and then added:

“The fact that I am immune to the Corruption… does not mean that I can endure it easily. I wasn’t quite in my right mind when I reached the lake, I think. I don’t even remember drowning everything around me in flames until the very stone beneath me melted, and I don’t think I even registered the pain of using my Aspect in such an unbridled manner. All I know is that it… took me a long while, to come back to my senses.”

She looked at them and said in her usual even tone:

“I waited until the lake stopped boiling, and then summoned you back.”

Sunny looked at the lake.

Had the lake been boiling?

He closed his eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, and opened them again. Nephis, meanwhile, returned the Ark Amulet to Ananke and watched as the youthful priestess hid it back under her mantle. Ananke sighed.

“Immune to the Corruption… I never even thought that something like that was possible. If only you were here when we fought against the First Seeker, my lady. We wouldn’t have had to sacrifice so much.”

Nephis studied her quietly, then said:

“I was here. In a sense.”

Looking away, she added:

“The world outside is blooming with the Seeds of Nightmare… they are like sores on the fabric of existence that corrupt everything around them. The spreading doom. Fortunately, the Spell — as vile and cruel as it is — is intertwined with the Nightmare, and gives us a chance to destroy the Seeds. Those who carry it can enter a Seed and relive the Nightmare contained within, and if they are strong enough… and lucky enough… they can conquer the Nightmare and destroy the Seed.”

She sighed.

“One of the Nightmares I conquered happened right here, in the Tomb of Ariel. So, it is not the first time I sailed the Great River. And it is not the first time I met Ananke of Weave, either.”

Ananke blinked a few times.

“You met me… in a Nightmare? You dreamt of me before we even met?”

Nephis smiled faintly.

“I guess you can describe it that way.”

Ananke just stared at her with a befuddled expression for a while.

“So, what was I like in your nightmare? What happened to the River People? To Weave?”

Nephis glanced at her and grasped her shoulder gently.

“You were kind and generous. You taught me about the Great River and helped me obliterate the First Seeker.”

Her expression fell slightly.

“Unfortunately, Weave was destroyed in the Nightmare, just like it was in the real Tomb of Ariel. Most of the River People perished, as well… but not all of them. Fallen Grace remained, even after Verge was destroyed.”

Nephis lingered for a moment, glancing at Sunny.

“It is difficult to believe, but actually, the stories of the River People — of Weave — were published in our realm by an anonymous author. So, a great number of people know about you, your city, and the long war against the Defilement you fought.”

Ananke remained silent for a while, as if not knowing what to make of that information. Eventually, she made a sign with her hand and said in a tone of reverence:

“Hail Weaver, Demon of Fate…”

Having invoked the name of Weaver, Ananke looked at Sunny and Nephis with a glint in her eyes:

“I’d like to hear more about your Nightmare one day, my lady… when we are in safer waters. But… has the Nightmare Spell really grown powerful enough to prevent the Doom from befalling all of existence? The promise Weaver gave us was not a lie?”

The corner of Sunny’s mouth fell a little. He lingered for a moment, then said in a somber tone:

“Whatever you do, Ananke… never trust Weaver. Trusting a daemon known to be the master of lies is not very wise, don’t you think?”

He sighed and shook his head.

“The promise… it remains to be seen whether it was true or not. All of existence has not fallen into a Nightmare yet, true, but it is on the verge of falling. All that stands between it and the Doom you speak of is a single realm — the War Realm — and its people. That is because War Realm is the only one left. And it is being swallowed by the Dream Realm as we speak, so… that is why I said that we need to get stronger.”

He smiled darkly.

“I guess it depends on how well we do, in the end, whether Weaver turns out to be the liar or not.”

Sunny was a little concerned about Ananke feeling so much reverence toward Weaver… after all, Weaver was a daemon, and therefore a conduit of the Forgotten God. However, Ananke was not a priestess of Weaver — she was a priestess of the Nightmare Spell. The distinction was subtle, but important… and, as Sunny suspected, quite intentional on the nebulous daemon’s part.

Most of all, Weaver was dead. Now, the beings who could not be revered or worshipped without bringing the awakening of the Forgotten God closer were the heirs of Weaver — and there was only one of those in existence now.

It was Sunny.

He looked at the lake.

‘Hail Weaver, indeed.’

He helped Nephis to her feet and headed toward the edge of the shore.

Then, commanding the water to support his weight, he stepped on its surface and walked forward, faint ripples spreading from beneath his feet.

Nephis and Ananke followed, looking around cautiously.

As the three of them walked across the surface of the lake, shimmering runes ignited in the water.

Sunny knew these runes well.

They said…

[Hail Weaver, Demon of Fate…]

[Hail Hope, Demon of Desire!]

[Hail Ariel, Demon of Dread!]

[Hail Mirage, Demon of Imagination!]

[Hail Rime, Demon of Repose!]

[Hail Nether, Demon of Destiny!]

[Hail…]

“What… what is this, Lord Sunless?”

Ananke’s voice sounded strained.

Sunny was distracted for a moment, looking away from the runes and forgetting to read one of the names once more.

The message left on the surface of the lake by Ariel was the truth about the nature of the world… about the existence of the seventh god.

It was the truth about the Flaw of the six great gods, and therefore of the universe they had created — their forgotten sibling, who was Dream God once.

As well as the seven daemons born from him.

That knowledge was forbidden. The mystical prohibition of knowing about the Forgotten God was woven into the laws of existence themselves, so most people could not even fathom it, let alone retain it.

So even as a priestess of the Nightmare Spell, Ananke was having difficulty beholding the truth of who Weaver truly was.

Sunny remained silent for a moment.

“This is the truth Aletheia was searching for. Ariel buried it here to forget it… but he still couldn’t escape it, in the end. None of us did.”

They reached the waters where Ariel had written his testament. Sunny sighed.

“The Forgotten One slumbers in the Void — eternal, everchanging — dreaming of escape.”

A dark smile twisted his lips.

The Forgotten One was still trapped in a nightmare, only now, his nightmare was slowly consuming all of existence.

Sunny looked away from the runes and added quietly:

“I am a child of their transgression, and thus their Flaw…”

The daemons were dead, leaving no offspring — only the heir of Weaver still walked the earth.

So, in a sense, Sunny was the Flaw of existence now.

Looking at Anake, he shrugged.

“This is the truth of who the Unknown you’ve been mentioning is. Make sure not to think about him aloud, though. The gods erased the truth of his existence from the fabric of reality for a reason, you know.”

Sunny used to think that the gods had erased and forbidden the knowledge about the existence of their seventh sibling out of shame, or perhaps not to be reminded of their painful loss. But now he knew that there had been a very practical element to their prohibition, as well…

They were simply ensuring the safety of their creation, since the more people knew and worshiped the Forgotten God, the closer the day of his awakening became. And when the God of Corruption awakened, all the hard work the gods had put into creating the universe would be undone. Sunny looked away from the runes and moved past them.

“We are getting closer to the burial chamber. So, keep your guard up.”

The continued forward and eventually reached the labyrinth of jagged rocks that protruded from the water, connected to similar stone pillars that hung from the roof of the gigantic cavern somewhere far above. This used to be the point where the waters of the lake were connected to the rapid currents outside the heart of the Estuary. It was a labyrinth of time — by following a certain path, a person could emerge at any point in the past or in the future. One could even travel to a different cycle of the Great River, invading it like a foreign guest.

But now, the water was still. There were no rushing currents roaring as they flowed between the cliffs, and no twisting maze of time for them to navigate. Only the jagged rocks were left, creating a different kind of maze — quite a mundane one, albeit elaborate.

One could spend an eternity wandering its twisting paths, even if they could walk on water…

Unless they already knew the correct way, of course.

Fortunately, Sunny had already found the way to the inner lake once with the help of the Guiding Light. He did not have the sacred staff with him this time, but he still remembered where he went, which turns he took, and how long it had taken him.

So, he had a good chance of making it through the maze without losing his way.

It was just that the Estuary was a treacherous place, and there was no telling how it had changed after Cronos broke the Great River. That was why Sunny wanted to err on the side of caution.

“Ananke, if you will…”

Nearing the cliffs, he allowed his six shadows to separate from him and assume corporeal forms. Ananke, meanwhile, raised her hands and moved her slender fingers faintly — a moment later, seven silver threads appeared out of thin air, which the avatars of Sunny then used to tie around their waists.

The silky threads were not Memories, and neither were they an enchanted item Ananke carried in the sleeves of her mantle. Rather, they were a manifestation of her Aspect.