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The Witch and the Kindling
Every one thousand years, the blazing comet that hosts the alien entity known as the Darkmoon passes through the skies, devouring the world of Cistern. Each time, the entirety of Cistern is devoured and obliterated, only to be reformed once more and for the cycle to continue.
Now, as the Year of the Darkmoon comes to its height, and the Darkmoon eclipses the frail sun, the Divine Houses of Igni and Stella join in a curious alliance. The demigod sons and daughters of Igni have been slaughtered, imprisoned, or driven mad by the spreading Cult of the Darkmoon, leaving a young Scribe, Filan, of the lowborn vassal house of Lux, as the last heir with but a pint of divine blood within them. This Scribe is to be joined in arranged matrimony with the Lunar Princess Silvana, the only daughter of House Stella.
Lord Ketain Felsing's decision to send a bastard to become Kindling for the Flame is unusual, but these are unusual, desperate times. It is well known, however, that Ketain harbors no love for Filan, despite their status as Ketain's adoptive son.
Filan is to serve as a servant, dutiful protector, and a final, secret purpose, involving a quest that will be completed at the Forge of Starlight Fire. To kill the Darkmoon, the Ancient Dragons created the Forge of the Starlit Fire, to craft a mighty weapon to slay the monstrosity inside the comet. Alas, the kindling for the Forge has been lost to time. The blood, bone, and flesh of the divine must be spilled in its place.
The fire immolates men and women alike, creating catalysts, living weapons of the Divine Houses. Once the Kindling is delivered, the secrets of the Godslaying Flame shall be revealed. A fire born of the darkness of the void. A fire that can finally slay the Darkmoon.
Do not let the fire die.
Chapter One: Journey to the Foot of the Forge
A coldness gripped Filan’s thin frame as a howling gale blasted through the green, rocky hills of the Northern Reaches. They acutely noticed the fresh holes in their cloak, products of arrows that had hailed upon Filan and Silvana’s small wagon the night before. The flowers were bright and vibrant, with flowing reds, yellows, and purples dotting the hillside of the dull teal grasses, swaying in the fierce wind. Silvana had warned of rain to soak the hills today, but the flowers did not seem to want to heed the coming storm.
Filan was abruptly driven from their reverie by a rustle in the long alpine grass. A feeling of a strange emptiness that raised the back of the hairs on the pyromancer’s neck, and the sensation of a curious void that lurked only a few feet behind them. A danger to the Lady. Twisting, a spark ignited in a white gloved hand, a ritualistic circle of light revolving around the rapidly growing fireball. In front of Filan was a strange man, wearing armor of a strange dark iron, etched with tiny details of twisted tentacles, glaring eyes, and scrolls of paper affixed to the malevolent garb through seals of what seemed to be flesh. The helmeted knight brandished a large, twisted sword with spiny shards curling off from a hefty blade. The knight wore a strange helm, shaped like a large eye, with a glowing red gem affixed to the front of the bloodshot iris. “You are the scribe of the Lunar Princess.”
The knight spoke with a strange, raspy tone that held a prideful undertone. The knight made heavy footfalls with her massive armored boots, cracking stone as she loomed over Filan. “Do not brandish your pitiful flame here, witch. You cannot burn my armor.” Something about the malevolence in the knight’s voice caused Filan to cringe in fear, and they took a slight step back before noting the terrain around them. The knight, while well-armored, was next to a precarious clump of rocks that had fallen during a prior storm, the large boulders only held in place by some frozen earth, which created a narrow ledge above the knight.
Filan quickly forced the fireball out of their gloved palm, which led the knight to snort derisively at the supposedly missed shot. The ball of flame flew across the small road, and quietly melted the frozen earth. “You’ve missed. Fear not. I will make your death quick, as you are unfit even to be sacrificed to the Darkmoon. Hold st-” The knight turned, and let out a yell of shock, which abruptly ceased before being crushed by several large boulders.
That one was overconfident. What if they send more? Quickly, Filan burned through the assorted boulders, creating a melting passageway to reach Silvana and their small wagon. The Lunar Princess was waiting patiently on the other side, wearing a large white hat and deep purple dress. “My Mage. Was that a Knight of the Darkmoon Cult that intended to waylay us?”
Filan knelt respectfully. “Yes, m’lady. I have ended their life, and hopefully any further pursuers will be discouraged from ending up like that one.” “Well done.” Silvana spoke, with a hint of pride in her calm tone. Filan nodded silently, turning to goad their stubborn horse to continue up the hill. Lord Ketain never spoke to me with pride in his voice. Not once. Filan sat on the driver’s chair and resorted to reading a historical book their mother had gotten them, just before the two were sent off from the Capital.
It was a curious tome, which spoke of a time before Humanity had achieved true independence from godly subjugation, and where a single god, known as the Radiant One, governed all aspects of life, deeming pyromancy, a magical art taught by the Ancient Dragons to Humans, heretical, as it was a school of learning outside of the Radiant Church’s control. Many centuries before, the Radiant One had been slain by a figure only known as the Moonfire Knight, who had utilized a type of fire the Dragons called the Godslaying Flame, which was said to have been sent to the Dragons by an entity outside of the known cosmos.
After her victory, the houses of Ignis and Stella had been joined in an alliance to prevent any further divine subjugation to Humanity. After the defeat of the Radiant One, the Darkmoon had made contact. Filan learned that during the Age of Myths, the Darkmoon had first devoured Cistern after the Radiant One’s presence had been excised from Cistern, but had not fully destroyed it, fearing that the Godslaying Flame could harm it.
Before their hastily arranged marriage and the journey to the Forge, Filan had heard that the internal politics of the Dragonlords was causing strife at the Forge. With no clear view of who would meet them after the journey, the Lord of House Ignis, Felstan Ketain, had ordered Filan and Silvana to be sent anyways, citing to his adopted son that, “You have an entirely expendable, singular purpose, and in order to honor the accord between the houses, you must follow it.”
What that purpose was, Filan was unclear of, even now. They disliked ruminating on the concept of kindling for too long. Fil nurtured no love to the monarch of Ignis, knowing that due to the five other sons and daughters of House Ignis’ inglorious deaths before the Darkmoon’s arrival that Filan was all the House had left. The rumored bastard child of a vassal. The means to an end they had been unknowingly preparing for all their life. The pact between Ignis and Stella was tenuous, held together by the imminent threat of extinction at the hands of the Darkmoon. M’lady dislikes admitting it, but she’s just as expendable a pawn as I am, soon-to-be goddess of the moon or not.
Closing the book, Filan quietly pushed away the lurking doubt in their mind, deftly grasping a few vibrant flowers as the wagon slowly moved down the road, tying the colorful plants together with a band. Filan whispered quietly to the stout horse, a dark brown, aged mare with a strong step and sturdy hooves. “What do you think, miss? Will m’lady appreciate the flowers up here? They’ve got such a pleasant vibrancy to them!” She will. I’m certain of it.
The mare snorted affectionately, and they continued trotting onwards.
Chapter Two: The Dragonscale Peaks
Filan quietly handed the small bunch of flowers to Silvana as they stopped for a rest. Eyes that sparkled with drops of starlight beamed at Fil, and she gracefully smiled, accepting the flowers with her left arm, and softly stroking Fil’s cheek with the other. Her other two arms, quietly situated underneath her large cloak, lifted the heavy woolen pelt upwards, and drew the clasps around Filan. “I noticed you were shivering from the cold earlier, darling.”
Silvana spoke softly, with a smile. Filan stammered, their pale face turning red and blue in the cold wind. “I apologize, mistress! But you require this more than I do! My duty is to protect your divine blood!”
Silvana laughed, the sound flowing through the mountains like a rushing stream. “Is it really, my dearest helper? I do say that as a soon-to-be goddess of the moon, the cold will cease to be an issue.” She deftly replaced the cloak on Filan’s thin form, and drew the lanky scribe in for a hug, which was surprisingly warm.
They ate in silence, watching the wind buffet the small fire Filan created with a well-aimed firebolt. The howling gale subsided for a few hours, and as the party moved up the Peaks, snow overtook the grass and flowers, until all around the wagon was thick drifts of ash-coated snow.
The snowy skies flashed brightly with great spikes of red lightning sundering the rocks aflame around the small wagon, and Filan had a creeping sensation that this place was not the domain of Humans. As the stout horse pulled the wagon upwards, the trail dropped off, revealing a massive stone fresco, depicting an enormous dragon of black onyx scales holding a burning orb of fire.
The strange flame was of a curious blue light, twitching in the shadows of the mountains as if it was absorbing the surrounding light. Silvana whispered to Filan, all traces of her divinely calm mannerisms gone as she stared in shock. “Fil. That’s just one fragment of the Godslaying Flame. For such a small thing.. it scares me.” Filan said nothing. Silvana held their hand tightly, like she was afraid that letting go would mean Filan’s fall into the fiery maw of the dragon.
The trail widened as it twisted up the stony cliffs and peaks, until Filan and Silvana were greeted with a bridge of immense scale. Where the mountain’s peak should have been was instead an enormous square arch, chiseled from top to bottom with nearly-microscopic details. The mare whinnied in fear at this sight, particularly at the leering dragon heads affixed to each side of the arch, recessed eyes glowing with that same blue fire.
A loud roar was heard from above the pair, and Filan jumped, their eyes darting rapidly from side to side as they twisted to identify the source of the sound. The source soon revealed itself. Great gusts of wind tore gashes into the stormy clouds, and the air shimmered with heat and blue embers. A massive dragon landed before them, with clean scales of black and teal, sporting four gigantic wings. The eyes of the beast were larger than the whole of the wagon, and Filan realized, with no small sense of terror, that the dragon was even larger than the massive stone carving they had seen earlier.
The massive creature glared down at the pair, with emerald eyes that shimmered like the seas outside of Ignis’ ports. Blue embers emanated from the heavy, squarish maw of the dragon, lined with silver teeth. Silvana took a step forward, conjuring a protective shield around Filan, and curiously ignoring her own safety. The massive mouth of the dragon opened, revealing a swirling pink tongue that twisted and curled like a great serpent, and a gust of blue smoke floated into Filan and Silvana’s faces, prompting Silvana to cough loudly.
Filan saw the smoke flow around the crackling magical shield, staring apprehensively at the hulking Dragon. “Who are you, little creatures? What business do you have at the Forge of Starlit Fire?” Silvana stepped forwards, reassuringly holding Filan’s shaking hand with her own. Her voice was clear and crisp. “I am the Lunar Princess of House Stella. With me is my consort, Filan Lux, of House Ignis. We come to undertake the Rite of the Godslaying Flame, to kill the Darkmoon.”
The massive Dragon exhaled, its emerald eyes shining in something that might have been shock. “Where are the pureblood heirs? Is this truly all Ignis has left to honor the pact?”
Filan stepped forwards, wringing their hands. “Yes, great Dragon. A bastard has been wedded to a nascent goddess of the Moon. I have been selected to fulfill both the role of Kindling and Consort.” There was a great huff of faintly blue smoke, and the Dragon nodded, once. “I see. Well, I will grant you ingress. Approach upon my back. The Forge lies in the sky, where the Moon and Sun meet.”
Silvana helped Filan up with her four arms, and the Dragon let out a piercing roar that shook Filan’s thin body through their bones. The massive creature lifted away, great wings sweeping up clouds of ash and snow as they flew through the sky. Filan manifested a small ball of fire, cradling it closely, but the gale-like winds snuffed it out completely. Silvana was beginning to pale, with rime-like frost appearing on the metal clasps of her cloak. The two watched as they were lifted above the storm, and there was nothing but quiet as the piercing blue sky was shadowed by a massive object.
The stars lay above them, so close that Filan felt like they could almost reach out and take one from the cosmos. A great stone disc, etched with arches and tunnels, and crowned with a great dome with spiraling towers and roosts, floated above the clouds, with the center of it holding a swirling storm of burning, multicolored stars, contained by a crackling field of magical energy.
The Dragon spoke, its voice carrying far across the empty sky. “We are here, small ones. The Forge of Starlit Fire.”
Chapter Three: The Floating Forge of Stars
The Dragon landed in a massive artificial cavern, with a sweeping roof and arches that stretched up higher than the eye could see. Above was a stained-glass ceiling of many hues, allowing the starlight to gently fall through and suffuse the area.
There were other Dragons in the room as well, creating a vibrant wall of reds, greens, teals, and oranges, along with shimmering metallic scales. All of the massive creatures stood in a row, with a large carpet of blue fabric winding through the hall, to a massive doorway at the end. A low rumble flowed across the room, emanating from the huge opening of tan bricks in the far back of the hall. Words, although spoken in such a way that they seemed almost like a roaring gale of wind. “Enter.”
Silvana gently clasped Filan’s shaking hands, and they walked across, every single dragon in the room closely watching the pair with unblinking, inhuman stares from huge, colorful eyes. Great mosaics lined the walls, carvings that prominently showed a bright blue flame in positions of worship and power. There was one carving in particular that showed a huge dragon, blasting a strange dark orb with millions of eyes and twisting tendrils of darkness with a bright blue beam of fire. The couple approached the massive doorway, and passed through the threshold. A loud and reverberating boom sounded behind them as the huge stone door sealed shut.
Before Filan and Silvana was a massive open space, a circular arena with green bricks that composed the floor. A sharp pyramidal object was in the center of the arena, made of a dark, glassy stone that seemed to absorb all light around it. Burning in the center of this curious alien obelisk was a vivid blue fire. From the cloudy sky came a howling gale of wind.
Filan and Silvana were blasted backwards, and the two frantically got back to their feet, just as the master of the Forge landed. An enormous Dragon, larger than any of the flying ones inhabiting the floating city, loomed over the two, landing on the emerald stone with a mighty thud. It was a creature of shimmering blue scales, with one entire side of its body blackened with the same shimmering darkness on the pyramidal object. Embers of blue fire flowed from cracks in its scorched scales. Growling, the massive beast stared down at the two tiny humans, with vivid eyes of flowing shades of green, each larger than Filan’s entire body.
“Are you the ones the Humans have sent to claim the Godslaying Flame?” The Dragon let out a huff of smoke, stomping a clawed foot in disapproval. Filan stuttered nervously, so Silvana stepped forwards, casting a magical seal in the air, the dual sigils of Ignis and Stella. Her voice was clear, and rang across the arena. “Yes. My consort is to become Kindling. We are the last heirs of Ignis and Stella, and have been sent to destroy the Darkmoon, Forgemaster.”
Grumbling, the Dragon nodded its massive head, inclining it slowly. “Many have died before you, those that had true divinity in their veins. The Darkmoon took them all. What makes you think I, Keldorax, Master of the Godslaying Flame, Scorched by Starlight, should let your pet be burned, and gain the power to kill everything that ever lived?” The Forgemaster growled again, his eyes flashing with anger.
Filan mustered up the courage to speak, letting their voice out in a high-pitched squeak, which gradually flowed into something almost melodious. “We are all you have left, Forgemaster. I-if we do not defeat the Darkmoon, it will consume Cistern again, and ensure that the unique conditions to create the Flame cannot be replicated by anyone, ever again.” Kelgorax growled, smoke flaring from his nostrils. He paced, every step cracking the stones upon which he walked.
Finally, the Dragon stopped, staring at the altar upon which the Flame sat. “When I was younger, I was consumed by the flames of my own ambition. I desired power, to become the mightiest Dragonlord that ever lived. For my punishment, for my sin of desiring to conquer and destroy, I was burned. I did not gain the powers of a god, that day. I was merely broken upon the Flame’s will. Do not test it. Prove you have the will, courage, and goodness to use its power, and it will grant you merely a sliver. For a price, of course.” The Dragon shook his head, swaying his tail in the wind with an expression of sorrow. “It requires the flesh of the divine to function. The Kindling we made for it has long since vanished. Instead, you must become the Kindling.” Kelgorax rose to his full height, spreading four massive wings.
Filan and Silvana stared in silence at the sprawling black burns that crisscrossed the Forgemaster’s body. He roared, declaring the danger of what was about to occur to all who could hear. “The Flame will burn you! It will scorch your body down to the bone itself and imprint its alien consciousness into your soul! Do you understand? Your families have sent you here to die! The others suffered the same fates!”
Filan watched in silence, gazing at the pure blue of the sky, above which the stars were clearly visible, twinkling merrily as they danced in the cosmos. They nodded, once. A whisper flew from their slight lips. “I have to do this. It is the only reason I was sent on this suicidal mission. If I do this, finally, I and Silvana will be free. I do not desire to be a pawn, and with this, we can truly be free to define our own fate.” Kelgorax stopped, pondering this in silence.
He then growled in agreement. “I understand.” His massive gaze turned to Silvana, who watched in silence as Filan began the long walk to the Shrine of Starlit Fire. His growl softened, ever so slightly. “Take care of them.” With those words, Kelgorax flew away to a massive balcony, landing with a heavy boom. His emerald eyes shone from the perch, and Silvana could swear the great scaled maw of the Dragon was uttering a prayer to the Goddess of the Moon. Thank you, Forgemaster.
Filan ascended the steps of the strange pyramid. The stairs were strangely sized. From a distance, they had seemed massive, like a great monument to giant creatures. They had shrunk as Filan had approached the structure. Standing at the top, they were inside a small alcove, through which, the shimmering blue light of the Godslaying Flame whispered and sparked. A smooth door of dark material closed behind Filan, and the Kindling could hear an urgent whisper, flowing from the fire.
It was not a whisper any Human should have understood. It flowed perfectly into Filan’s mind, imprinting visions. Visions of a monstrosity. Tendrils of darkness, creating great beasts of shadow and eyes. Visions of pain, suffering, sacrifice. Of two people, bonded by fate, or destiny, destined to die for the whims of others. To fight a losing battle, all with their own courage, faith, and love in each other. Filan Lux whispered to the Flame. Is that... Me?
The Flame roared back. Yes. You are strong. You are worthy, with goodness in your heart where others had none.
At that moment, Filan knew everything, and nothing, all at once. The Flame roared hungrily for flesh, bone, and blood, and it took everything. Fire singed Filan’s flesh, their hands blackening and popping, their eyes gushing and exploding like ripe cherries, their body becoming thin and lean and ruined. Only their hair stayed the same, changing from a deep black to a pale white. Your Hands, so you may touch the Flame. Your Eyes, so the Flame may light your way. These, we require.
Filan felt themself falling down a vast pit of darkness, collapsing. They lay there for a long while, still feeling the strange sensation of cold air on scorched hands, grasping out, blindly, to anything in the gloomy dark.
Chapter Four: An Eldritch Star, Hovering Overhead.
Hands grasped Filan, four of them. They felt their burned body being lifted away, and the prickling sensation of sunlight flowed onto their skin, along with a cool breeze. Hairs did not raise, and goosebumps did not form, for they had all been somehow removed, despite the only truly burned parts of Filan being their eyes and hands. Filan shuddered, the cool breeze numbing the constant pain emanating from their face and hands.
There was a whisper from above, a familiar voice that Filan’s addled mind could not entirely remember the name of. “It’s going to be all right. I’m here.” Burned lips cracked open, uttering a reply that sounded like a dying gasp. “Silvana?” There was a mumble of assertion, and Filan felt a cold hand on their forehead, and heard a rush of wind.
Silvana’s voice returned to its cold, clipped state. “We’re heading away. Kelgorax has given us transport back to the Capital. The Darkmoon is hovering over Ignis Castle.” Mother and Father are probably already dead, or worse. It’ll be crawling with Darkmoon Cultists from the slums, and aberrations from the Moon’s surface. A scratchy voice replaced the thoughts in Filan’s mind, a multitude of voices all meshing together into a scorched roar. We will burn them all.
Filan could feel Silvana’s lower pair of arms absentmindedly brush their messy, flowing hair. The Lunar Princess was softly humming to herself. There was a sense of impending doom in Filan’s mind, a sense that things would never be the same again after this painfully long flight across the rolling valleys and hills. “Silvana. I would like to tell you something, m’lady.”
The witch stopped humming, and Filan could sense her piercing eyes turn upon their burned face. “Yes?”
Filan stopped for a slight moment, attempting to muster the courage to speak openly. “I.. was not entirely honest, back when I noted my motivations to the Forgemaster. In reality, my motivation to continue on this divine errand, to burn myself for the sake of the world.. Is you.” Silvana muttered in protest, but fell silent, waiting for Filan to explain themselves.
“You’ve always been there for me, in a sense. Treated me far kinder than Lord Ketain, the Noble Houses, or anyone else. I am not simply a pawn to be used as a weapon of magical destruction, but you’re the only one who truly understands that. You… care about me. I promise, I’ll repay your kindness any way I can, m’lady. I am your faithful servant, after all.”
More muttering flowed from Silvana, and she quietly pecked Filan on the cheek. “Thank you.” The Forgemaster let out an indignant huff, and Filan felt the wind whip by their face as they sped away. Mist flowed around Filan’s face, and the rushing wind quieted for just a moment. Filan felt a strange burning sensation in their heart, and a strange new image was opened to their mind. Vibrant shades of blue, with details shown in flickering lines of flame. It was a shard of blackened stone, with blue crystals spread throughout, connected to the veins and arteries where a human heart would normally lie.
The Flame’s roaring whisper intruded once again. We have given you the power to see. Tear the Cosmic Darkness asunder with your fire.
Silvana nudged Filan. “We are here, my darling.” Her voice faltered, turning into a gasp of shock as they flew through the last of the clouds.
Filan could see, outlined with lines of fire, a massive dark orb, hovering right over the tip of the tallest tower of the castle. It was lined with dozens of massive, bloodshot eyes, with red irises that constantly roamed over the burning city. Huge, serpentine tendrils plunged into the ground, worming their way into the earth itself. Screams and cries reached Filan’s ears, millions of people dying and transforming into abominable monsters, all traces of their humanity being lost. Small figures, moving like ants, could be seen forming a line against a horde of frenzied commoners.
The Pyromancers of Ignis were attempting to defend the castle, but a large black dot smashed into their lines. The Darkmoon Knights are in full force. Fire engulfed the Knight, but it was of no avail. Suddenly, there was a piercing roar from the castle, and a massive tendril shattered brick and stone, coiling around the spires of the castle. A burst of bright red light exploded outwards, disintegrating everything near the gates, all except the four Darkmoon Knights now walking amidst a pile of smoldering corpses. Silence overtook the city. All of the Darkmoon’s eyes suddenly shifted upwards, moving under the dark flesh of the orb like worms under skin, and stared at the trio.
A new voice invaded Filan’s mind, a growling thing that sounded like the hissing of a snake mixed with a familiar voice. Hello, my son. Your father’s body is a good mouthpiece. We wish to see the power of the Starlit Flame, the Godslayer, for ourselves. Land. Kelgorax roared, and dove down rapidly, landing quickly amidst a pile of soft ash, mixed with human bones.
“Go!” growled the Dragon, roughly. “I will hold the Knights away. Slaughter this monstrosity!” Filan and Silvana leaped off of the Dragon’s massive back, and began running for the Castle.
There was a defiant roar, and a beam of blue fire incinerated the first Darkmoon Knight, although as Filan looked back, the next three were melted and singed, but still slowly moving to the Forgemaster. The two ascended the steps to the Castle. There was a strange quiet that overtook the couple, and Silvana looked sorrowfully at Filan. Her voice cracked, just once, as she uttered a simple command. “I will not let you go inside there alone.”
Filan nodded. They continued running up the massive steps to the castle, the vibrant red paint dulled by monolithic piles of ash and bone. Huge wood and iron doors lay ajar, with a full, horrific view on a malevolent display inside the throne room. Lord Ketain Felsing, the Last Lord of Ignis, was tethered to the great throne of iron, with snaking black tendrils, bubbling with small red eyes, piercing his large body. His eyes were of an inky blackness, and his large arms twitched and spasmed, as if Ketain was fighting the strange possession of the Darkmoon.
The whisper in Filan’s mind was not a whisper, now. It was a roar, a scream of terrifying thoughts, all flowing like a great wave at once, pounding Filan and Silvana backwards. A tendril attached to the back of Lord Ketain’s skull twisted and pulsated, and the husk sat upwards, gripping the Greataxe of the Fire Lords with two hands. Verdant silver and red regalia lay stained with black blood, and the red hair of Ketain swayed in an unnatural breeze. Ketain’s mouth opened, spurting out black smoke that poured into the room, and Filan blasted a bolt of fire at the King, tearing a hole into Ketain’s chest with the beam, which quickly resealed.
Ketain threw the greataxe at Filan, and the massive weapon spun head over shaft at the thin Pyromancer, firing a blast of orange flame at Filan as well. A shimmering shield of blue light was erected, sending the massive axe bouncing back, and crashing through the roof. The fireball shattered the shield, but Filan was untouched. Filan and Silvana blasted moonlight and fire at the husk, but the strange abilities of the Darkmoon snuffed out their powers, with little to no effect.
Suddenly, just as Filan sundered a grasping tendril with a flaming blade, Ketain’s left arm bulged and twisted, turning into a shard of dark stone, with smoke radiating from it. He charged at Filan, shattering through Silvana’s protective shield, and grappled the thin mage with a huge hand, driving the crystal point deep inside Filan’s chest. Filan screamed, feeling the flickering blue fire of the Godslaying Flame sputter and wane. A pain overtook them, a searing, sharp pain radiated through their entire body. Silvana summoned a glowing sword of moonlight, tearing into Ketain’s flesh, and momentarily stunning him, but it was too late.
The shard of crystal reformed into a hand with dagger-like protrusions of stone, and with a spurt of gore, Ketain Felsing, Avatar of the Darkmoon, tore out the Godslaying Flame from Filan. Silvana screamed in rage, summoning a massive sword of starlight, and sundering Ketain in two, but the husk quickly reformed, grabbing the tall witch, and forcefully throwing her out of a broken window.
Kelgorax, his maw wet with the blood of several Darkmoon Knights, caught the Lunar Princess. Ketain stared down at Filan’s broken body. The trapped mind of the man formerly called Ketain Felsing screamed, for he had cast down and butchered the one thing that he could have called a son. The jagged crystal arm raised high above Ketain’s head, prepared to sunder the host of the Godslaying Flame one final time, but the unaltered arm quickly grasped Filan’s broken body, and flung it outwards, instead.
It landed on a wall with a sickening crack, and fell deep, into the dark sewers of the Capital, where broken things went to die.
Chapter Five: You Are (Not) Alone
As Filan Lux lay dying, their mind slowly drifted away, uncaring of their broken ribs and missing heart. Memories drifted around, like birds flying through an empty sky. Vivid flowers appeared, wrapped neatly with a string. They had given the flowers to someone, someone they loved dearly. Who was it?
A great blue fire, slowly sputtering and dying. It hadn’t worked. Now, Filan was destined to end up like all the other heirs who had attempted to link to the fire, dead, in a ditch. Why didn’t it work? They all lied to me. We’re going to die. Their vision had fled, and the voices in their mind had also hushed, leaving them alone, in the dark.
There was no smell, strangely enough, for a sewer. Maybe it was the ash, or maybe Filan was already dead, so scent didn’t matter anymore. Maybe I wasn’t worthy. They should have picked someone better. There was a gust of wind.
A strange sound filled the stale air. What sensory receptors remained on Filan’s broken body shivered in response to light, and cool air. There was a presence, a reassuring one. Four hands, one holding a knife. Silvana plunged a blade into her flesh, carving a thin line into her chest, and tearing it open. She pulled out her heart, reaching under her ribs for the object.
It was clear, and glowing a bright white light, with chunks of white crystal jutting from it, still pulsing as Silvana held it in her hands. She sliced off a small chunk of it, and placed it inside Filan’s exposed ribcage. Two deft hands held open, gushing tubes to the new organ, and there was a whisper. It felt strange, having someone poke and touch inside their body, twisting flesh and crystal together.
Filan heard a voice in their mind, a calming, soft, quiet one, that brushed away their doubts and fears. I am here, darling. It won’t hurt, in a moment.
“W-what d-did you do?” Filan muttered weakly, a line of blood dripping from their thin lips.
Silvana responded, her voice gentle, and clear. “I have forsaken my divinity and given you a shard of it. With this, you will live.”
Filan was confused. “But n-now you won’t... You won’t be able to join the other gods. You’ll die. Just like me.”
Silvana’s voice turned firm. “You are important, above everything else. Using a shard of my heart as a conduit, we can combine our power. The Flame is inside of you. It must be still there, a tiny spark, residue that remains.”
Filan thought about this, and then began searching. A spark. A residual spark. There was still silence, but as Silvana knitted Filan’s ribs and flesh back together, something called out to Filan.
The Moonlight Heart combined with the remaining influence of the Godslaying Flame, and there was a bubbling sensation inside Filan’s mind as a voice spoke cleanly and clearly. It carried the fiery demeanor of the Flame, but was tempered and calm, a focused, quick breeze, rather than a howling gale. The Flame remained inside of you, all along. You simply required one last piece to access it. The Union of Stella and Igni is complete, and you have made it so.
Filan’s body sparked with blue fire, and twisting sigils lit up across their burned form, the emblems of Ignis and Stella, resplendent in bright blue light. They stood, draping themselves with a singed cloak, given by Silvana. “Darling.. Do you need to see? Do you require a guide?” Silvana was uncertain, her voice filled with trepidation. “Do you feel well?”
Filan’s voice rose, flowing out into the catacombs. “I feel… perfect.” The Pyromancer quickly grasped onto Kelgorax’s waiting claw, and they rose upwards and outwards of the massive pit, rising into the starless sky, making their way to the castle.
The Darkmoon howled, millions of additional tendrils slamming into the earth, grasping and reaching for them. Kelgorax roared in defiance, blasting apart hundreds of smaller, vine-like manipulators. They slammed into the castle wall, where Lord Ketain waited. Instead of immediately charging, Ketain stood. Filan noticed the chunk of crystal that was the original conduit for the Godslaying Flame was embedded in Ketain’s chest, and it was still weakly burning.
The fiery eyes of the Lord of Ignis cleared for a moment, and the man shouted loudly, defiant in his bellowing roar. “I will hold off the Darkmoon for as long as I can! You must rise to the sky, and burn it down!” He looked, with a thin smile growing over craggy, worn features. “Filan. Know this. I am proud to call you my heir.” The Last Lord of Ignis held out his hand, and roared. Four humanoid figures formed from the shifting, tree-like tendrils, clad in sharp-edged armor, wielding massive greatswords of black iron. In his left hand, a blazing ball of flame sprouted to life, causing the four Knights to recoil momentarily. In his right, the Greataxe of the Fire Lords crashed through the wall, solidly landing in his huge hand.
Silvana grasped Filan, and Kelgorax roared at the sky, pumping his four massive wings as they flew straight for the Darkmoon. Filan looked down at the brightly glowing speck that was Lord Ketain. Thank you, Father. I hope you find peace.
The speck vanished as the trio rose past the clouds.
Chapter Six: The Godslaying Flame
Portals opened in the starless sky, red circles that showed alien planets from far off regions. Meteors flew through the openings in reality, massive rocks and stones that attempted to smash the trio out of the sky. The Darkmoon was all-encompassing now, taking up all of Filan and Silvana’s vision. Kelgorax flew nimbly, twisting and turning in maddeningly fast dodges that almost bucked Filan and Silvana from his scaly back.
A great boom was heard from above, and the massive eyes of the Darkmoon rotated, bulging and twisting until they had merged into a single, glaring iris, glowing red with malevolent intent. The shadow cast by the great orb was so complete that Filan could barely see their own hand, even when summoning a small ember of flame. Now, needles of darkness, the tendrils of the Darkmoon, reformed themselves into arrow-like shards, glistening with a strange black smoke.
They plunged in unison, narrowly clipping Kelgorax’s massive wings, but failing to harm the trio. The great eye narrowed, and a ball of red energy was formulated at the center, growing with a high-pitched whine, and filling the darkness with a glaring red light. The ball contracted and spat outwards in a neat line, forming a great laser that chased Filan and Silvana as they flew ever upwards. Roaring filled the trio’s ears.
The Darkmoon’s cacophonic wails of rage grew ever louder as Kelgorax got closer to the massive eye. More inky tendrils formed, surrounding Kelgorax at all sides. He responded with a mighty roar, melting away the needles with a laser of blue fire. The iris stood above, in the stillness. Smoking tendrils fell limply to the surface of the Earth. Filan reached upwards, touching the surface of the eye. It was like a strange goo, transparent and sparkling. As the Pyromancer formed a fire in their hand, shards manifested from all sides, reaching out at rapid speeds, preparing to skewer Filan from all sides.
Kelgorax sharply twisted, and curved his scaly neck, roaring as he burned a path of destruction in the flesh of the Darkmoon. The inky darkness melted away, revealing a strange, silver surface underneath, lined with strange sigils. “Ready yourselves!” Kelgorax roared. “I will draw its ire! Face me, monstrosity!” Whispering in rage, the Darkmoon’s spines turned to a new target, and sank into the scorched scales of Kelgorax.
The great Dragon roared in pain as two of his wings were separated by razor-sharp blades of darkness, and his head was penetrated by thousands of long spines. Filan felt their body lurch, but they did not fall. The corpse of Kelgorax, with glowing blue blood dripping from his mighty body, was being held in place by the myriad spines. Filan screamed at the sky. “Well?! What are you waiting for, you monster! KILL US!”
Piercing needles turned into thousands of grasping hands, all burned away by Filan. Silvana summoned precise beams of starlight to burn away a swarm of swords that flew at the pair. The Darkmoon’s attempts to sunder the pair continued, with strange humanoids made of polygonal crystal being cracked and melted by Silvana and Filan, and gnashing maws of roiling smoke forcefully dispersed by Filan’s fire. A massive hand appeared, narrowly poised to squish Filan’s frail form, but a shield of glowing blue light appeared right before the hand of darkness landed on the Pyromancer.
The shield of moonlight began to crack as Silvana’s concentration waned due to the numerous creatures continuing to battle her to a standstill. Filan looked at their feet, and saw a growing pool of blue blood, dripping upwards, as if gravity no longer had any right to exist. Scooping up the blood with a burned hand, they felt a surge of power, unlike any Filan had experienced before. A conduit for the Flame, created by the scorching of divine flesh. Kelgorax’s flesh.
Filan focused, creating a growing ball of fire. They shouted desperately at Silvana. “Mistress! I need your assistance! Combine our spells as one!” The Lunar Princess nodded, whispering silently as she drew runes in the sky, her body straining under the pressure of fighting off millions of foes at the same time, and ensuring the coherency of the starlight shield.
Filan felt a growing pressure as another crack appeared in the transparent shield. The fireball continued to grow, making no sound as it turned from pale blue fire to a pristine white, the blazing core of a flame. The Darkmoon howled in rage, its victory clear, for all eyes to see. Filan screamed at that terrible moon, cursing it for all its maladies, and crying out a defiant yell of rage. “I DO NOT FIGHT FOR MYSELF ALONE, WRETCHED MONSTER! I FIGHT FOR MY LADY! SHE IS ALL THE REASON IN THE WORLD TO ME! BURN!”
Twisting, Filan, felt a surge of power well up inside their heart, feeling the Crystal Heart and the Flame pulse in unison. A white-hot flame flowed from their hand, preparing to become a mighty spell of blazing fire. Silvana etched the rune to turn the spell into a long-range projectile, and Filan fired, just as the shield shattered above them, dissolving into darkness. A beam of white light drove back the inky darkness of the Darkmoon, and the grasping hands and tendrils melted away.
The great hand that had threatened to quash the pair was pierced, a steaming hole cutting cleanly through the palm, and it too dissolved into nothingness. Speeding across the gap, the beam of light connected with the eye of the Darkmoon, popping the disgusting organ with a hissing noise. The inky darkness flowed away, burning into ash. Only the silvery orb remained, glowing lights on the side flaring in a blast of green light, before melting into a silvery liquid.
Kelgorax’s corpse, Filan, and Silvana, all began to fall to the earth, plummeting downwards. The stars are beautiful from up here.
-X-
Filan felt sore and broken, with new pains springing up all over their body in places they had never noticed before. There was a reassuring warmth on the back of their head, and a worrying wetness that smelled of copper.
A soft whisper flowed to their ears, with Silvana’s bright silver eyes smiling at Filan. She whispered slowly and gently. “We must flee, my darling. The city burns, and the moon and sun have aligned.”
Filan blinked, gently lifting their head from their wife’s lap, and stared. The sky was of an inky darkness, speckled with stars. A solar eclipse was occurring, with the sun and moon in perfect harmony.
The Capital burned below, with the clashing of swords ringing out across the grassy hills, dotted with flowers. Silvana quietly handed a bundle of flowers to Filan, before preparing to turn and go to a waiting bundle of supplies. She halted mid-turn, before turning back to Filan, weaving a glowing blue rune in the sky. “One more thing, darling,” She exhaled, nervously bringing four hands together. “You are no longer bound to me, as Consort. As I am no longer a Goddess of the Moon, neither of us is bound by rite and ritual any longer. You are free to do as you please.”
Filan halted. I am a free person now. I am free to make my way in the world. That would be awfully lonely.
Filan nodded. “A gracious proposal, Mistress, but I am with you until the end.” They turned, grasping Silvana’s upper right hand with their burned appendage.
Silvana smiled. “Such a daring little darling you are. It’s settled then. Where would you like to go, my dear? My mother has sent an army to scavenge the Capital and bring us back in chains.”
Filan took a breath, steadying themselves as they watched the darkened sky. “Anywhere. As long as I’m with you, Mistress, we’ll survive.”
Silvana nodded curtly. “It is settled, then. To the Far East we shall go, further than any man has gone before.” Nodding, Filan grasped a rucksack, and the two quickly walked down the rolling hill, watching the wall of darkness that lay beyond.
Chapter Seven: The Fortress of Stars
The Twin Queens Kysandaria and Sivain grimaced at the news the cowering scribe brought them. The man shook, knowing that the Queens’ prowling eyes were directly upon him. He was acutely aware of the punishments for failing at tasks, especially those reserved for males.
“So, they have fled.” Kysandria’s beautiful, ageless visage moved with a pointed agency, like a knife preparing to slit the jugular.
Sivain’s quiet, but no less intimidating whisper filled the room, causing the assembled guardswoman to shiver in fear. “Our daughter has taken the weapon.”
Kysandria continued. “Defiled her divinity.”
Sivain nodded, finishing her wife’s sentence. “And ran.”
Motioning to the cowering scribe, Sivain raised an impeccable, pale, hand. “You did not truly fail, my sweet scribe. After all, your only goal was to report, not follow. You may go.”
She dismissed the gratefully sobbing scribe with the same hand and turned to Kysandria. “Well, my love? What shall we do?”
Kysandria grimaced at the thought of such a weapon out of her control. “The only thing we can do. Persuade our wayward daughter to bring the bastard home. Begin the Ritual of Mind-Whispers.”
The assembled guards nodded, silver gems implanted in their curved helms humming softly. They backed away, moving to different directions to gather the long-disused parts of the Whispering Stone.
Silvana will come home. Even if we must turn her against the one thing she claims to “love”.
The End… For Now.