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Chapter 145: Lifeblood of Darkness's Light
🕑 Added 2025-11-08 12:10:05 +0000 UTC“Very Interesting,” Sormot, the Percipient Body-enhancer, said with a rhotic trill, leaning over the shadeling, whose neck was trapped between the prongs of her bident.
The fox-like creature was as tall as a two-tailed shadeling—about six feet—and nothing like the looming monstrosity Caen had seen earlier. Its only tail was significantly larger than that of any two-tails. That by itself was enough to clue Caen in on how unusual this creature was.
Furthermore, two-tailed shadelings were not sapient. To say nothing of the strange abilities this one apparently had access to. It was either the clone of a greater shadeling, or it was itself a greater shadeling whose tails had been sent away as clones.
Though Caen strongly doubted the latter.
Rising to his feet and taking a few steps back, Caen bid Chasma to crawl away from his face. Once again, he connected to the shadeling.
Three cords extended from the creature. One terminated at Caen. Another stretched out into the distance, disappearing out of view. And the third cord connected the shadeling to Sh’kteiro.
The tremendous trepidation emanating from the creature’s soul was palpable. It felt great dread, fearing for its life. It was certain that it would die soon. And that fear didn’t seem to be directed at those of them here alone.
“So it was a shadeling leaving behind all those messages,” Uncle Teiro said in Olden Vishic.
Diviners were skilled at discerning meaning and intent in language. Sh’kteiro had been unable to divine the meaning of the glyphs, however, which meant that the shadeling could obscure its intentions somehow.
“You swore to do as I command,” the shadeling said to Caen in its many whispers. “Release me now!”
Caen glanced at Sh’kteiro, and the Percipient shook his head. He still couldn’t understand the shadeling.
“I changed the terms of our agreement,” Caen spoke to the shadeling in Klakalk. “I swore myself to my service, to do as I command.” Any Binding magic practician would have noticed that alteration.
“Tet’s unshaved… Vensha, is Caen speaking with that shadeling?” Mafrolem asked in a loud whisper of his own. “I didn’t even know they could—”
“Shh!” Amni urged.
“I have also bound you to another agreement,” Caen continued. “You cannot run or conceal yourself from me.” The second contract had been hastily constructed, but it should still hold. “Now you will answer my questions.”
“Foolish, foolish!” the shadeling said in urgent whispers. “You have doomed me. They are coming. Foolish. They will find me. And now they will find you.”
“It says something is coming here,” Caen conveyed in Thermish.
Sh’kteiro closed his eyes, brows creased.
“Please, let me go! They are coming!”
“Who?” Caen inquired of the shadeling. “Who are the ‘they’ that you are speaking of?”
“Caen,” Sh’kteiro suddenly said with a hint of concern in his voice. “My counter-divination measures are in place, but several creatures seem to have latched onto our location in spite of that. They are very close. I sense at least two beings of equivalent power to mine among them.”
“How close?” Sormot asked, turning to the man.
Sh’kteiro closed his eyes for a moment. “At their current speed, just minutes away. I cannot determine much about their nature or numbers, right now, but if we take the shadeling with us, they will certainly follow.”
“Who are your pursuers and why are they coming after you?” Caen asked the shadeling.
“They want to consume me for my power,” it answered with greater urgency.
Caen could tell through their connection that the creature was terrified.
“They will come for you as well,” it continued, whispers dire. “If you do not help me, you will never understand the dangers that await you.”
“All you have done so far is lie and intimidate. Why should I believe anything you say?”
“Because I was there,” the shadeling replied quickly. “Six months ago, when you were in that place known to you as ‘Lifeblood of Darkness’s Light’, his mark seethed within you. And I sensed it.”
A cold chill ran down Caen’s spine.
‘Lifeblood of Darkness’s Light’… or as it was commonly translated in Thermish, ‘Redshadow’.
Six months ago, Caen had found his fourth bloodline in that Plane. But that was not the most concerning thing the shadeling had said.
“‘His mark’...” Caen repeated.
“Yes. Somehow, you bear it. If I can sense such a thing in you, then others after my kind can, as well.”
“What is this mark?” Caen pressed. “Is it a bloodline?”
“Help me with my problem and I will help you with your questions,” the shadeling replied.
Time slowed as Caen’s thoughts sped up. The shadeling’s claim of being present on that day in Redshadow seemed plausible. It appeared to know about his mysterious bloodline. But just how much danger was Caen in, if any? If he left this creature to die, would he be giving up an opportunity to learn vital information? Questions fluttered about his mind, which roiled with uncertainty. Was it lying to him?
Caen glanced at Uncle Teiro.
“Still nothing,” Sh’kteiro said, catching on quickly. “It’s hiding its intent so well in the Weave.”
Caen turned back to the Shadeling and spoke in Klakalk. “Are you willing to swear an oath to the truthfulness of your words?
“Yes, but we must hurry,” it begged.
“The shadeling has information I need,” Caen said aloud in Thermish.
At the same time, a separate portion of his mind connected to Hshnol and conveyed his intention. Caen could prepare the magical contract himself, but nowhere near as efficiently, thoroughly, and quickly as the Percipient could.
“So we stay,” Sh’kteiro said.
“Well, boys,” Sormot drawled, glancing back at her crew. “We get to do some killin’ after all.”
<The shadeling seems to know about my fourth bloodline, and it says that I might be in danger,> he sent to Vensha and Zeris in tap code. <I can’t let it die.>
<Then let’s do this,> Zeris sent back.
<Amni and Mafrolem have an idea of what’s going on> Vensha also replied. <They’ll stay, too.>
Behind her, Mafrolem had already stepped out of the barn and was pulling out vines from the basket on his back.
Very conscious of how little time they had before their assailants arrived, Caen translated for Hshnol and the shadeling. They constructed two contracts.
The first verified, to an extent, that the shadeling had, in fact, not lied to Caen. It was impossible to determine the extent of the shadeling's truthfulness at the moment, but this would have to do for now.
The second contract bound the shadeling to answer all of Caen’s questions within its capacity as long as Caen was able to ‘get rid’ of the shadeling’s pursuers.
“Can it hide in someone else's shadow?” Sh’kteiro asked. “I would prefer if you weren’t the center of its assailants’ attention.”
Caen asked the shadeling.
“No, it has to be your shadow,” the shadeling said.
“Why?”
“Protection,” it replied.
Caen translated.
Sh’kteiro did not seem pleased. He was clearly worried for Caen. “They’re approaching from that direction,” he said, “about a minute away. Over fifty summoned creatures. Dozens of two-tailed shadelings with a… three-tails among them.”
Caen nodded politely at Sormot, and she released the shadeling from between her bident’s prongs. The creature slipped into Caen’s shadow immediately, though this time he could sense its existence… somewhere, though he couldn’t say where.
“Where’s it going? Won’t it fight?” Zeris asked, sounding annoyed. Her helmet completely concealed her face.
“It insisted that it would be ‘unable to help us in combat’,” Caen said, as they made for the barn’s exit with hurried steps.
She clacked her tongue. “Cowardly.”
“Hope you haven’t gotten too used to swords,” Vensha said grimly as she tossed Caen a glaive.
He caught it easily. “Thank you. Will you mind if I use Passionfire on this?”
“Go ahead.”
It was still drizzling outside. This area in Eastway was abandoned property, with its carpet of wild grass and the dilapidated sheds dotting the terrain. Thanks to Mafrolem’s efforts, vines now covered the ground in a ten-yard radius.
They all faced the direction that Sh’kteiro had pointed in. If the shadeling was being tracked, then Caen would be targeted by its assailants, so everyone stood in a loose formation around him.
Impassioned flames erupted around Zeris’s scale armor. They’d intended to test out her new armor this night, but hadn’t gotten the chance to. Its asymmetrical scales were a burnt orange so dark it almost looked black. The armor, Zeris had said, was strengthened by constant heat. Passionfire would not harm its conjurer.
Caen began empowering his body and mind with spells.
“They’re here,” Sh’kteiro spoke aloud, a moment before Caen felt them.
Not even two seconds later, they came into view, moving around a nearby shed and coming to a stop. There were two kinds of creatures here.
A crowd of tar black spiders, each one half as tall as a man and wider still. Three of the spiders were twice the size of the others, and their souls carried the weight of Percipients. Stable cords of connection ran from them and further back into the distance.
Dozens of eyeless two-tailed shadelings stood behind a single ten-foot-tall shadeling.
The giant creature seemed to be weaker than the shadeling hiding in Caen’s shadow, though its soul bore that same richness. Two incredibly stable cords of connection stretched from the shadeling to Caen’s shadow… and to Caen himself.
“Humans,” a shrill and warbling chorus erupted from the spiders at once. It was a very unsettling sound. “We have no problem with you. Give us the insolent shadeling immediately. It has stolen precious items from us and must pay with its life.”
Caen suppressed an annoyed sigh. The shadeling had not said anything about theft.
“They are speaking the truth about the theft,” Sh’kteiro said.
Several of Caen’s companions glanced at him.
“Greetings to you, respected summoners,” Caen said, projecting his voice with a Vibration spell. “We need this shadeling alive, unfortunately. It owes us a debt. Could we come to an amicable agreement? Perhaps these items that were taken from you could be returned? Or some other form of restitu—”
“Then we will tear out the thoughtless creature from your corpse!” the spiders cried in a shrill chorus as they surged forward.
