by Tim Waggoner
The two stood in Elidyr’s workroom in one of the lodge’s lower levels. Wooden tables lined the wall, their surfaces covered with books, scrolls, and bits of parchment arranged in seemingly haphazard piles. Everbright lanterns resting on the tables provided illumination, and while Elidyr appreciated the lanterns’ convenience-unvarying light, no wick to burn down-he missed working by candlelight, as he had during his student days at Morgrave University. There was something romantic and mysterious about it, as if one were reading in some hidden chamber, delving into ancient and forbidden lore.
One table in the workroom was reserved for Elidyr’s artificer’s tools, devices both small and large, mundane and arcane, from simple hammers and screwdrivers to etheric energy aligners and thaumaturgic rebalancers. And in the middle of the table rested a square metal framework constructed from two-foot lengths of focusing steel, an extremely expensive material designed to collect and channel various types of energy. There were three flat panels inserted into the framework, and upon each was fastened a row of crystalline objects even more expensive than the focusing steel. Some were translucent with pulsating veins that made them seem almost alive, while some were a glowing blue and green.
“The dragonshards and psi-crystals are in their correct places,” Elidyr said, sounding more defensive than he liked.
“But they haven’t been properly attuned to one another,” the dolgaunt pointed out. “If you tried to activate the device now, at best it wouldn’t function, and at worst it would fail catastrophically and destroy half the lodge in the process.” The creature’s leathery lips stretched into a smile far wider than a human could manage. “Although now that I think of it, that could be amusing.”
Elidyr knew the dolgaunt wasn’t joking-he would find the devastation amusing-but the artificer chose to ignore the comment. Sinnoch’s mind was sharper and more focused than others of his kind. That was the only reason Vaddon had agreed to allow the dolgaunt to assist with the Outguard’s work. But in the end Sinnoch was still a creature of chaos, and thus periodically given to bizarre and unsettling turns of thought. However as long as the dolgaunt chose not to act on those thoughts, Elidyr didn’t worry about them-much.
Elidyr had dubbed the device the Overmantle, a rather elegant name, he thought, for a somewhat unimpressive-appearing piece of equipment. But he’d always been more practical than artistic-the Karrn in him coming through, he thought with some amusement-and he really didn’t care what the device looked like, as long as it worked. The Overmantle was designed to help humans bond with symbionts while leaving the hosts in complete control. The psi-crystals would form a psychic barrier in the hosts’ minds to protect them from symbiont influence, while the dragonshards would open a miniature portal to Xoriat and channel a small measure of its chaos-based energies into the hosts in order to create a kind of “chaos inoculation” to help further shield them from the symbionts’ psychic contamination. If the Overmantle worked as designed, hosts would have complete control over their symbionts and be able to use them as safely and effectively as any other weapon, without fear of succumbing to the aberrations’ corruption.
“The basic attunement of the shards and crystals shouldn’t take more than a few hours,” Elidyr said. “My major concern is making certain the dragonshards we configured to open a portal to Xoriat will be able to do so safely.”
The portal in question would be smaller than a pinprick, but that would still be large enough to draw the needed amount of the realm’s energy into Eberron’s plane to allow the Overmantle to complete its work. So far all their tests in this area had proven to be failures-sometimes quite spectacular ones. The last such had created a portal to Xoriat the size of a man’s fist, and a slime-covered green tentacle had slithered through. There had been a tiny toothless mouth on the tentacle’s tip resembling an infant’s, and it crooned a wordless song in a woman’s voice. Sinnoch had managed to close the portal, severing the tentacle, and Elidyr had hacked the still-writhing monstrosity to pieces with an axe he kept close at hand. Pieces which Sinnoch had disposed of by devouring them. Elidyr shuddered as he remembered the satisfied moaning sounds the dolgaunt had made as he’d feasted.
Needless to say, Elidyr had decided not to report the result of that particular test to his brother. But it pointed out the reason why they needed to proceed with extreme caution, and Elidyr had been determined to do so-until Bergerron’s recent ultimatum that they shut down the project and vacate the lodge. But he couldn’t do that without at least trying out the Overmantle, not when they were so close.…
Elidyr had first become fascinated with Xoriat during his early days at Morgrave University. His homeland had a long and proud history of military service, but at the beginning of the Last War the nation had become a military dictatorship, and still was. Martial law remained in force, and unlike the rest of Khorvaire, instead of following the Code of Galifar, Karrnath followed the more rigid Code of Kaius, a set of laws restricting many rights in the name of national defense. Men and women like his brother saw nothing wrong with this system, or if they did, they accepted it as a necessary evil for the protection of Karrnath and its people. But there were those like Elidyr-freethinkers who chafed under the Code of Kaius. And so even with the Last War still raging, Elidyr had left his homeland to study in Sharn. At Morgrave University he studied the craft of artificing, telling Vaddon that he planned to use the skills he gained in service to his country when he graduated. Which was true enough-though admittedly Elidyr hadn’t been in any great hurry to graduate.
Elidyr had studied many subjects at the university, but he’d found himself most fascinated with the subject of Xoriat, the Realm of Madness. At the time Elidyr hadn’t understood the strange attraction he’d felt toward Xoriat, but in the years since, he’d come to believe it had something to do with how different the dimension of madness was from Karrnath. While Karrnath was tightly structured-Elidyr often ironically used the word regimented to describe life there-Xoriat was the exact opposite: total freedom reigned in that realm … so much freedom that even the basic laws of nature held no meaning there. The very existence of Xoriat had posed a compelling question for the young scholar. Was there such a thing as too much freedom? Without some sort of structure to give it form, like water given shape by the cup that held it, could existence truly have purpose?
Elidyr read everything he could about Xoriat and its denizens, of the daelkyr, and of the aberrations they created to be their servants. He’d learned of how the daelkyr had once attempted to take over Eberron and, when they failed, how some had retreated with their servants to the subterranean realm of Khyber, where they were reputed to still live to that day. Elidyr had learned of a handful of explorers and adventurers who supposedly had traveled to Khyber and survived, and he sought them out, hoping to gain firsthand knowledge of the daelkyr and their aberrations, but while he’d tracked down a few adventurers, all he’d learned were a few scraps of information, little more than what his own studies had taught him. He’d eventually set out on expeditions of his own in search of aberrations to study firsthand. He began with symbionts, for as dangerous as they were, they were tame kittens in comparison to creatures such as mind flayers and their brethren. It was during one such journey into the Nightwood that Elidyr encountered Sinnoch.
He’d been in the forest for several days when he discovered a subterranean cave system that showed signs of symbiont habitation. He’d gone into the caves, which displayed a dismaying lack of aberrations, when the dolgaunt approached him. At first, Elidyr thought the creature intended to attack, and he prepared to defend himself using a rod he’d designed to collect energy from the sun and release it in a blast of light and heat. But when the dolgaunt made no move toward him, Elidyr had lowered his weapon and was surprised when the dolgaunt spoke.
“I’ve been watching you. You search for that which most humans fear and loathe. Why?”
They talked for hours after that. Elidyr was fascinated and thrilled by their conversation. N
ot only was this his first true encounter with an aberration, it was with one who could think and communicate. For his part, Sinnoch seemed intrigued to meet a human who did not revile him simply for being what he was. Sinnoch explained that he had stumbled through a naturally occurring but unstable portal from Xoriat some years previous and, unable to find his way back, he had lived in the cave system ever since. Elidyr learned much that day about Xoriat and Khyber and the nature of aberrations, and the young artificer stayed with Sinnoch for three more days before reluctantly heading back to the university.
Elidyr made several more trips to visit Sinnoch over the years, both before and after he graduated from Morgrave. And when he developed the idea of finding a safe way to employ symbionts as living weapons, he’d returned to the Nightwood and asked Sinnoch to help him. The dolgaunt was skeptical at first. Why should he wish to help humans when they despised his kind so much, when they took every opportunity to hunt aberrations down and destroy them?
“Because it’ll be more interesting than sitting here alone in your cave,” Elidyr had said.
Sinnoch thought over these words for a time before finally nodding.
The dolgaunt wasn’t his friend-Elidyr had no illusions about that. But there was an understanding between them, a connection that Elidyr was hard-pressed to define but which was real nevertheless. Sinnoch’s motivation for helping with the project was simple-he found the idea of an army of impure princes amusing, and he found the challenge of creating such an army intellectually stimulating. Nothing more. But it was enough to gain his assistance, and without his intimate knowledge of Xoriat’s chaos energy, Elidyr would never have been able to construct the Overmantle. So what if the others didn’t trust Sinnoch? Elidyr didn’t blame them in the slightest. After all, he didn’t fully trust the dolgaunt himself.
Sinnoch moved toward the Overmantle. One of his shoulder tentacles snaked out from under his robe and stretched toward the device. The tentacle tip began touching the crystals, seemingly at random.
“There are no guarantees, Elidyr, especially when dealing with the forces of chaos. You know this. We could perform a dozen successful tests of the Overmantle and still fail to safely open a portal to Xoriat the next time. The best we can do is to fine-tune the crystals and hope for the best.”
Elidyr sighed. He knew the dolgaunt was right, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.
“Then I suppose we should get to work.” He reached for a thaumaturgic rebalancer and got started. He had a feeling it was going to be a long night.
CHAPTER FIVE
Lirra sat before her dresser mirror, staring at her reflection in the dim glow of the candlelight without really seeing it. She was thinking about what had occurred in the testing chamber that day … and what might occur there the next.
She’d changed out of her uniform and into a roomy white nightshirt that stretched down to her ankles. It wasn’t the most flattering of outfits but it was comfortable and, more importantly, warm. Summer nights in Karrnath weren’t nearly as cold as winter ones, but they could get chilly enough.
A soft knocking came at her door. She rose, crossed the small bedchamber, and quietly opened the door.
Rhedyn stood there, still dressed in his uniform.
“I couldn’t sleep. Can I come in and talk for a while?”
“Of course.”
Rhedyn entered, and she closed the door, once again careful to do so silently. Rhedyn stood in the middle of the bedchamber, looking around.
Without thinking, she said, “It’s not as if you haven’t been in here before, you know.”
He looked at her and smiled sadly. “True, but it has been some time since my last visit.”
Lirra instantly regretted her words, but she couldn’t take them back, and she didn’t know what to say to relieve their sting. A single candle resting on the nightstand illuminated her room, and in the soft light the shadowy cast that always covered Rhedyn’s form appeared even darker. It was an eerie effect, made the more so because she knew he was minimizing it. If he wished, he could draw the darkness around him like a cloak and virtually vanish in the shadows.
“I wanted to talk with you about tomorrow,” Rhedyn said. “About what it might mean for us.”
Lirra frowned. “I don’t understand.”
Rhedyn took a step toward her, and without meaning to, Lirra took a step back. She regretted doing so, but she couldn’t bring herself to move any closer to Rhedyn.
He gave her a sad smile. “I’m talking about what you just did. Things haven’t been the same between us since I bonded with my shadow sibling. You have difficulty looking at me sometimes, and you can’t bring yourself to touch me. Even being physically close to me makes you uncomfortable.”
She opened her mouth, intending to tell Rhedyn it wasn’t true, but she respected him too much to lie, so she remained silent.
Rhedyn continued. “I don’t blame you. How can I, when I understand better than anyone the nature of the creature I’ve joined with? I knew when I volunteered to receive a symbiont that it might end our relationship, but I chose to go ahead anyway … chose to do my duty.”
As his superior officer, Lirra knew she shouldn’t ask this next question, but as his former lover, she couldn’t stop herself. “Do you regret your choice?”
“As a soldier, no. But as a man …” He took another step toward her. “Very much so.”
Lirra didn’t move away this time. She gazed upon Rhedyn’s features, and in the candlelight, the perpetual shadow that cloaked them didn’t seem as unnatural. And if the candle was out, she thought, his shadowy aspect wouldn’t be noticeable at all. She almost reached out to touch his hand, but the thought of the cold, oily way his flesh would feel stopped her.
“You said you wanted to talk about tomorrow,” she reminded him. “What of it?”
“If Elidyr’s experiment proves successful tomorrow, it will provide an opportunity for us.”
Lirra frowned. She had no idea where this was leading.
“I cannot-will not-give up my shadow sibling. As an impure prince, I can serve Karrnath in ways others could never hope to. And as long as I remain bound to a symbiont, I will repulse you physically.” He paused. “But if you were to accept a symbiont …”
Suddenly, she understood.
“You believe that if I was bound to a symbiont, I would no longer fear your touch, and we could be … close once more.”
“Yes. At least, that is my hope. I would never ask you to attempt to bond with a symbiont naturally. The process is … difficult in ways that I cannot easily communicate.”
Lirra thought of her earlier conversation with Osten in the lodge’s great room and how he described being bonded with a symbiont. “I think I understand … at least a little.”
“But if your uncle succeeds and we’re able to control the bonding process so that the host remains dominant, then being bonded with a symbiont is no different than carrying any other weapon.”
“Except a weapon isn’t fused with one’s flesh,” Lirra pointed out.
Rhedyn ignored her comment. “I’m not suggesting you volunteer to join with a symbiont tomorrow. But if Elidyr’s machine works …” He reached up and gently took hold of Lirra’s arms.
She drew in a sharp intake of air at his cold, clammy touch, and despite herself, a look of revulsion passed across her face. Rhedyn held her for a second longer before letting her go.
“Just think about it. Please.”
Then he moved past her, careful not to come too close, and departed the room, closing the door softly behind him.
Ksana stood outside Vaddon’s bedchamber, hand raised to knock on the door. But she hesitated. Not because she felt uncomfortable disturbing him at that hour. It wasn’t all that late, and despite a lifetime of military service that had trained him to rise with the day’s first light, Vaddon was something of a night owl. No, the cleric hesitated because she wasn’t sure if she should interfere. She’d been Vaddon’s friend for sev
eral decades and had fought by his side on numerous occasions, and she knew that the general valued her counsel. But she was always careful not to force that counsel upon him too often. Still, Vaddon had been the one to request that she serve as healer for the Outguard, and he knew that Ksana wouldn’t limit her contributions to simply repairing wounds and relieving illness. She smiled. So if what she had to say was going to make Vaddon angry, he was only getting what he’d asked for.
She knocked.
A moment later Vaddon opened the door. He was still fully dressed, and he gave her an amused smile.
“What took you so long?” He stepped aside so she could enter.
“Am I that predictable?” she said as she walked past him and into the room.
“Would it hurt your feelings if I said yes?” He closed the door and walked over to join her.
The room was lit by an everbright lantern sitting on the nightstand next to the bed, and an open book lay facedown on the slightly rumpled bedclothes.
Ksana nodded toward the book. “Another volume of history?”
“The Collected Letters of Galifar.”
“This is, what? The third time you’ve read it?”
“The fourth.” Vaddon smiled. “But who’s counting? So … do you want to sit on the bed or the chair? Or is this something that can only be discussed while standing?”
Ksana walked over to the writing desk, pulled the chair out, and turned it to face the bed. She then sat. As much as Ksana admired Vaddon, there had never been any hint of romance between the two of them, and she felt perfectly comfortable being alone with him in his bedchamber at night. But even so, she felt a bit … awkward at the thought of sitting on his bed. Vaddon walked over to the bed, picked up his book, noted the page he’d been reading, then closed it and placed it on the nightstand next to the lantern. He then sat on the edge, facing Ksana.
“What’s on your mind?” he asked.