Tenebroum PLUS Ch. 118-119 (Patreon)

Ch. 118 - Night After Night

When the full moon touched her waters, Oroza could feel Lunaris’s call. It was the first time since her brush with darkness so long ago that the moon sang to her rather than silently judging from its high perch. She could have resisted it, of course, but what would have been the point of that?

If the moon was calling, then there was a reason, and she should pay heed. So, the river dragon swam toward the reflection and then dove into it. As she dove deeper and deeper than her river actually was. She was in the sky now and making the long, slow track into the sky.

This deep the blackness of the void was spread out from her in all directions, and the stars were just coming into view. The moon was the only constant, and slowly, it began to grow until it filled all of Oroza’s vision. This wasn’t her first trip to the moon, but it was her first trip in decades, and as she transformed back into a woman and stood upon the surface, she noted the oily footprints that were left behind in her wake and sighed at just how much work was left to purify herself.

It was a maddening thought, of course, but it was a work that would take a lifetime, and that lifetime wouldn’t start until she finally dislodged the evil that had settled comfortably on her western banks like a cancer.

As she strolled through the albino gardens along the alabaster path, it was easy to see that she wasn’t alone. Other Gods, great and small, had received the same invitation that she had, and all had come. She saw the fox god of trickery and deceit, padding along another path to her left and Niama, Goddess of the wild places among the trees, off to her right.

Those ones, Oroza recognized because she shared an affinity with them, but for every God she recognized, there were two more she did not, and most of these were small gods like her. Gods of a mountain, a river, or a city were far more common than the Gods that governed all of creation.

Large and small, they were all going to the same place, though. Ahead of them loomed the high temple with its great amphitheater. It could seat thousands, which was enough for every God in the world to comfortably sit and listen with Siddrim, Lunaris, or any of the other greater Gods who had something important to say. Siddrm was absent, though, and his golden throne on the dias sat empty.

Normally, Oroza would sit with the other river and nature Goddesses, but when she saw the way that they looked at her, with a mixture of pity and revulsion, she chose to sit far away from anyone on the far side of the giant place. She did not need to be reminded of what she’d become, and certainly not like that.

Eventually, when new arrivals stopped filing in and all were seated, Lunaris stood to dress the assembled crowd. She was a full-bodied, motherly woman with white-blond hair tied back in a tight braid, and her pale armor was polished to a fine sheen as benefitted the guardian Goddess. Only her shield was missing, and that, of course, was because one of her handmaidens was carrying it across the night even now. The world could not be left in darkness. Not with all that had happened.

“Siddrim is dead,” Lunaris pronounced, letting the words settle in for several seconds before she continued. “His horses still live, and his chariot is being mended by the All-Father, but the fire that lights the world is no more.”

No one said anything, but the wave of grief and sadness that radiated out from the assembled divinity was palpable. It wasn’t enough to stop the lunar Goddess from continuing, though.

“We do not come to mourn him, and though in time we may replace his light, but we will never replace his nobility or divinity.”

Or his vanity, Oroza thought to herself. She still fumed silently about the way that his worshipers had decimated her own. Not that she could blame him. Siddrim had done little in the mortal realm for more than a century. He was the God that had vanquished evil, so he had grown lazy and indolent.

For the last few decades, he’d done little more than ride his chariot, bask in his own reflection, and plan ever larger temples in his own honor. Even that wasn’t enough to justify his death, though.

“Now, the same darkness that slew him is spreading across the land, and we know so very little about it. Who is doing this? Where did it come from? Only two of you have touched this thing and survived the experience. I invite you to tell us now before more fall to the growing evil.”

While she spoke, Lunaris gestured broadly, and faint moonlight illusions appeared around her. Images of dark armies marching and cities on fire. Most of the violence that she showed was the very war that Oroza had tried so hard to prevent, but there were other abominations, too. Wives killed husbands, and children killed fathers, only to bury the bodies in strange locations or wipe the blood of their victims above the doors of their household.

The things that the moon Goddess showed them were strange, barbaric acts, but the whole time Lunaris showed them such terrible things, Ozora could feel the woman’s piercing yellow gaze, even from so far away. Finally, all of it was enough to move Oroza to speak, but as soon as the river goddess opened her mouth, the All-Father spoke up instead.

“The fiend is the blackest magics from the darkest pits at the very core of the world!” he yelled, with a voice suffused with barely contained rage. “It crawled up from the depths and devoured an entire temple of the dead in a single night, turning my own hallowed dead against me!”

The dwarven lord continued to speak, but Oroza ignored him. Instead, she stood and started walking down to the central dias. Where the greater gods were assembled. The All-Father might be speaking earnestly and passionately, but he did not know what he was talking about.

Still, he kept right on talking about it for the next ten minutes, regaling everyone in attendance with the war that was being waged beneath the world, under their mountains. The only thing he didn’t elaborate on at length was a secret counter-attack that had already been set in motion.

It was only when he finally finished that she said softly, “You do not know of what it is you speak.”

“Why I—” the All-Father said, his face purpling as he moved to stand. He was not a man to be gainsaid. She knew that. She just didn’t care.

He stopped speaking when Lunaris raised a hand. “Let my daughter speak. She has been through much and means no disrespect.”

Didn’t I? Oroza thought as she smiled grimly. That isn't what she said, though. Instead, she turned and faced the assembled mass of the several hundred Gods and Godlings that had shown up.

“That monster is not made of shadows. It devours them. It’s been growing in the swamps near my river for decades, but I didn’t know, Not until it devoured me.” She flushed with shame as she remembered that terrible dual and just how badly she’d been out-maneuvered. “I know exactly what it is because I’ve been forced to serve that darkness for decades.”

As Oroza spoke, she lifted one of her hands to show the raw scars where the manacles had chafed at her for so long. Then, Without any warning, she reverted into water. Instead of becoming the sallow, emaciated river dragon that she was now, though, she became a watery representation of the Lich itself to give everyone a good look at what it was they were up against.

Slowly, she grew in height, and her features melted away until she was nothing but a three-legged, four-armed skeleton in the ugly beetle carapace that her former master wore into battle. There were gasps of shock and horror as she donned such an ugly face. She couldn’t blame them. It was a visage that would likely haunt her for the rest of her days.

“The evil that held me in chains has been laboring long for this war, and all of us are off guard as a result,” she said, spreading her four arms wide. “I thought that with the help of the few that remained loyal to Siddrim, I could hold back the tide of darkness myself, but I was wrong. It will spread in all directions now, and each time you confront it, it will learn from you.”

“No corpse will outsmart me,” Ronndin, the fox God, bragged. “I will seek out his weakness so that we might dispose of him the way that we have all the other dark gods that have littered history.”

“This is not the same as those that came before,” Oroza implored him. The fox god was known for being clever but not for being humble, and that was exactly the wrong combination of traits for this situation. “The Lich… it has the mind of hundreds of humans screaming and chattering inside its awful skull. Whatever idea you had, however smart you think you are, a madman has thought of it first, and the Lich has already tried it out in its terrible workshops; it makes—”

“It makes nothing!” the All-Father roared. “The monstrosities that this Lich has are not creation! They are abomination!”

“I don’t care what you call it,” she urged, “but you should be careful not—”

“The world has been careful for too long,” Istiniss cried out, silencing her, even as Oroza began to deflate into her smaller human form once more. The God of sea and storms was louder than she was ever going to be. “We must rise as one now and crush this thing. Why shouldn’t we? We know its game and where its strange little lair hides. Nothing can save it from our wrath.”

Oroza exchanged a glance with Lunaris for a brief moment, and then she started to walk towards the exit. The gods could rarely agree on anything, but in this, the river goddess was sure they would all find accordance. Those who had churches and armies sworn to their name would rally against the Lich, and those who didn’t would help in smaller ways.

Despite the fact that the whole might of heaven had been united against her tormentor, she was not comforted. Even as she left the amphitheater and walked back along the path to the edge of the moon, she couldn’t help but feel like her efforts had made things worse, not better.

At the end of the path, Oroza found Lunaris waiting for her. “We will need your help, sister, only you know what it is we face.”

“You don’t know what you are asking,” Oroza said, tears welling in her eyes.

The moon goddess did something Oroza didn’t expect then and embraced her. She stroked Oroza’s lank black hair and soothed her, which only caused the river goddess to cry harder.

“One day, I will tell you the story of why the moon turns dark every month,” Lunaris whispered. “We all have our own pain to bear. It is unforgivable, but there is no changing it. All you can do is keep others from finding out how deep the darkness is for themselves.”

Ch. 119 - Cat And Mouse

After Ghroshian ate the rats, they started on the cats. That was followed quickly by the dogs, the old, the sick, the very young, and anyone else who happened to stay the night somewhere beneath the city in the domain that very quickly was turning into their sole hunting ground.

None of these sated their hunger, though. Eating never did. That was what drove them. That was why they wouldn’t be able to stay hidden forever. They’d never mastered that trick. They were tens of thousands of hungry mouths now, lurking and listening beneath floorboards and at the edge of candlelight conversations, and after only a few months, they touched almost every part of the city.

The corpses of the men they devoured gave up their secrets, too, but they were small things about how they died, and the swarm wanted something more tangible and satisfying. Knowing that this person was betrayed for love and that one for money was only interesting for as long as it took to finish feasting on their entrails. After that, they were already hungry again.

Food was in short supply in the capital right now and carefully guarded by those who had it. Secrets and stories, though, those flowed more freely thanks to the fear that freely haunted the streets, and the growing god of hunger and famine fed on those too.

They heard about wars and rumors of wars and that the dead either did or had recently walked the earth. They heard that the fields were heavy with grain and that the rot was spreading. Most of the rumors were contradictory, but most agreed on one thing, which, at least at first, the rat god ignored: Siddrim was dead.

Such a thing was unconscionable, but it was widely regarded as true. Priests still prayed, and believers still left offerings at the shrines to the saints, but if rumors were true, that great glowing bastard was no longer in the heavens where he belonged.

If that was the case, though, then why were there still days? Why were there still nights? Why was the order of the heavens maintained? They asked themselves these questions a dozen times a day but found no answers.

In the end, the only way to know for sure would be to test the light. If they sent out a tendril into the world above, and that part of them was smote, then it would know that Siddrim’s death was a ruse and that its doom was only a season or two away.

So, for a long time, it clung to the shadows. It was only when it noticed the poor state of even the grand temple, that they crept closer for a better look. They knew from past experience that hallowed ground was every bit as deadly as daylight. Just thinking about it triggered memories of the past when they had crossed paths with the Lord of Light and other similar deities.

Tonight, though, there was no sting. There was no burning or holy fire. The single small mouse it had sent to sacrifice quickly scurried past the barrier and under a pew, where it proceeded to look for forgotten scraps. For several long minutes, the rest of the swarm held back worried that this was some sort of trap. It was only when its sacrificial scout found a stale crust of bread and began to gnaw at it greedily that the rest of themself charged forward, the danger forgotten.

Still, even in the three hours it took to ravage the place of anything remotely edible, right down to the scrolls and leather bindings, no divine punishment came. Morning light caused them to retreat, but even that might not have been dangerous. They were not inclined to test the boundaries of their newfound freedom that far, though.

Still, the next night, the swarm devoured every offering at every shrine in the whole city within an hour of sunset. It that was fair game now, then they would make sure it would not go to waste.

From there, they wondered what it should do next. Ghroshian seemed to be in no serious danger. Normally, they would spread themselves out further and begin to hide in the cargo holds of ships as well as wagons that were leaving the city, but there seemed to be few enough of either group right now. Traffic only came to the city of Rahkin now. The only thing that seemed to leave was the army.

According to the rumors, more men went to fight every day. There was a war somewhere to the west. Some said it was over food and farming, and others said it was because of something darker or even apocalyptic. No one agreed on anything except that the strong young men of the city were leaving in formations every few weeks, and not one of them had been seen since.

They wondered what they should make of that, but lacked the means to follow and explore the issue more fully. If any of their brothers were loose on the world, it would know. It was not easy to hide the presence of any of the Malzekeen, and Ghroshian was by far the most subtle of the three. Hunger was a quiet force that no one wanted to talk about, but rot and ruin? As soon as the first traces of a real plague set in, the people of the city would be on fire in panic, and to date, that had not happened.

Certainly, they had never expected to be free again. Siddrim had burned cities and boiled lakes to kill every last member of their tiny swarm and then buried them with lead and stone, but now, as it gazed out at the wild places and the fields beyond the furthest villages, they saw a whole world waiting to be eaten, but it knew that the world out there was just waiting to eat it as well. The natural world was far more aware of its existence than the world of man.

In time, Ghroshian could no longer resist the fields and the bountiful forests. They had eaten everything in this wretched capital city that would not be missed and were already beginning to gnaw their way past the bricks of the remaining granaries when they decided to have a taste of the wider world. None of the mice that had been dispatched on ships had grown into large enough swarms for them to be aware of each other yet, but in this case, it was impatient.

Rather than sending out a few rats and hoping they would grow in time, the swarm dispatched an entire pack of knotted-tail ratkings to go and take what they could by force. The hunger pangs would not allow them to do any less.

The first three days they were in the fields and vineyards, they feasted, ruining whole stretches of farmland that might have been enough to feed Rahkin for several days. They should have returned after that, but they couldn’t. That victory only made them crave more successes.

So they slipped into the forest. That was where they found her. Ghroshian didn’t remember what her name was, but he remembered that she was bad news the moment he saw the tawny hunting cat condense from the pale rays of starlight that penetrated the forest canopy.

Until that moment, the pack of vermin was devouring the doe and her fawns that they’d brought down a few minutes before, but as soon as they saw the magical, glowing beast, they left their prey and fled as fast as they could. Each rat king went in a different direction to force the goddess in an animal skin to make a choice, but it didn’t go as planned. Instead, she burst apart into a murder of white albino crows and gave chase to each of them simultaneously.

The swarm didn’t know why it feared her so much. A rat king was a match for a handful of crows in any normal circumstances, but tonight, it knew that its only choices were death or escape and that being forced to face her would certainly lead to the latter.

Even as they rushed as a frantically squeaking mob, the first rat king was ripped to pieces in less than a minute. The second and third didn’t last long after that, either. Soon, the fourth one was all alone while its bones of the rest of the packs were consumed, and the birds harried them no matter which direction they ran, but the glowing wildlife that chased them would not give up.

The Rat King couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being toyed with. If they hid in a hollow log, the birds would become a badger, and if they forced their way inside a rabbit burrow, then they would become a snake. Shaking their pursuers became almost as impossible as making their way back to the safety of the city.

All hope was finally lost when they decided to bolt through the starlit glade toward the swampy area that lay on the other side. There, moonlight became a prison, holding the growling mob of rats entwined together completely, still like an insect trapped in amber.

They could only stand there helplessly as, one by one, all of the glowing forest creatures came together until they unified into the shape of a giant white owl that was almost as large as a man.

The rats trembled in fear as she spoke. “I remember you, little pestilence. You are an old taste and not at all welcome in these woods.”

“Then let us free, and we shall not return,” the rats squeaked in a quarrelsome and discordant harmony that only barely resembled words. “We swear it!”

“I know the rest of your swarm hears everything I tell you, so there’s no need for you to survive. You are a plague on man and doubly so on nature!” she crushed as she flapped her wings and began a woman that was either beautiful or old, depending on the light. “You think you can feast on whatever you like because Siddrim is no more, is that it?”

“Yes!” Ghroshian squealed. They would have said anything to live, even though they knew they would survive whatever it was she meant to do to them.

“Well, all that is only temporary. A god as powerful and prideful as him will be back one day, and when he does, he’ll roast you in flames like he did before,” she spat, pressing harder. “But even without him, you’re no match for the glories of nature, so feast on my children again at your peril.”

Ghroshian wanted to apologize. They wanted to grovel and beg for forgiveness, but before they could draw another breath, the life from its sole remaining rat king was snuffed out, and its awareness of the forest dimmed to nothing.

It was only once the rest of the swarm was safe that a righteous anger rose up inside themselves, and all of them chittered together in a chorus of fury. They did not know how, but they swore they would have their revenge. That would have to wait until they discovered who that woman was, though. She obviously knew them, even if they could not yet recall her. They would, though, and soon. Tomorrow, they would devour every book in the library if need be, to learn her name and find out what weapons could be brought to bear against her.