ShadowSpinner/Tale

The Tale of Shadowspinner

My beloved married another man, and I gave her my blessings.

Sometimes, in the darkest nights, I still wonder why I did that. It is not that I was powerless to prevent her marriage. Oh, no. I have power the likes of which most mortals can only dream of. My powers encompass the very stars that dot the skies. The time of my powerlessness ended a very long time ago.

I was merely a child of seven when my father murdered my mother. She had slept with a man, you see, and my father had just discovered it. He was incensed, as she hadn't given him his cut. He made a lesson of her, a lesson to all his other whores. She begged, screamed... and died. I did try to save her. But I was only seven. Fortunately for me, and unfortunately for him, my father was amused instead of incensed. He made me watch her last minutes of life, and promised me that she was nothing. Only we men mattered. When I was eleven, I hung him with his own intestines, and I couldn't have done it without the help of one of his whores, so I don't suppose that he was right at all. I was fortunate, then, that the one I trusted was the one who most wanted him dead, enough to surpass her fear of him. I wonder how she ended up?

I did not give my beloved my blessings because I had compassion for her. My compassion was burned out of me on the streets and alleyways of Great Forks. It is not a city where a child can easily live, and none of my father's brood were willing to take in one of his children. Perhaps if I had been one of theirs - a few kept their own sons and daughters, when they fled for the dubious safety of Nexus, of the brothels, of the Realm. But I was not. I was dangerous, even then. I lived like a rat, and I learned that people care for their own, but only their own. You cannot expect loyalty, it must be earned. I stole, I begged, I even assaulted people from time to time - it is easy enough, if you have the skills. No one expects it from a child. Eventually, that was my salvation. I attempted to rob a priest, and he was impressed by my audacity. He took me in, taught me some skills. He believed that my talents would make me an excellent acquirer for his temple's coffers.

You needn't look so shocked. The gods are far from noble. They are usurpers, after all. What is a little theft beside treachery and betrayal? No, nobility is a rarely-found trait in anyone.

It wasn't that my beloved had no land or money that made me give my blessing, although that was true. When I first saw her, she was nothing special. A slave of one of our temple's patrons. But I loved her at first glance. We spoke, quietly - I, still barely more than a boy at 16, she not much older. She was a dark-haired, fair-skinned beauty from the north. She had been a slave from childhood. I vowed that I would free her, and she laughed - her laugh was musical. I have only heard one sound that is its match. And I did. My exploits grew, as I not only stole for the temple, but for myself. Then I killed another man, for money. It was surprisingly easy. Everything fell together for me. So I did it again, another night. It was much more profitable than theft.

And then, when I had the money, I went to her master, and learned that she was gone. Sold, only a day before, to some man bound westwards.

I most certainly did not give my beloved my blessings because I didn't love her. I loved her with a passion that I have rarely felt since. I followed her, you see, but she was always one step ahead of me. I made friends and enemies along my journeys, all long dead now, but I saw little to convince me that my beliefs were false. Those who aided me were aided in return. A few poor souls believed in compassion, and I watched them suffer for it. But I always managed to find my beloved's trail again, and as I chased her, I felt something change in me. The stars aligned behind me, and I found her. When I finally caught up with my beloved, her newest master was a Fair Folk lord, who forced her into a truly abominable play. When I came in, they were just at the part where the bandits raped her three at a time to the perfect timing of her screams. As I stared in horror, the world crystallized around me. It was as though a perfect harmony was hovering in my mind, and I heard the whispers of Jupiter in my ears. And I remembered, oh so very well, the First Age, and the Prophecy. Betrayal piled upon betrayal. My hands came up, and I leapt for the stage. The first man found his heart impaled upon my sword, and my foot slammed first into the groin, and then the head of the second. The sound of his neck snapping galvanized the room, and they fled in all directions. I helped her to her feet, and we left.

Which reminds me, I should really check in on that Raksha and see if he's still alive. Malfeas can be a tricky place for the unenlightened.

I did not give my blessings due to duty. I know my duties know, but they are those that support me, not oppress me. You will understand, I hope. You, too, have felt the sting of the Sidereals.

When we emerged from the inn, he was waiting for us. Heptas Marsan, Chosen of Venus. He explained to me that it was time to go, that I was a Chosen of the Stars and that I had duties to the world. As he spoke, I remembered ever-more, and I asked him what would become of my beloved. He said that she would forget us, but I saw in his eyes that he was lying, and that the only forgetting she would know would be in death.

My strike took him by surprise. I honestly don't think he'd realized that I meant to hurt him, and he was no warrior. I crushed his nose with my first punch, and while he reeled, I reached around, sliding my sword across his chest. He was not a warrior, but I was, and I was good at my job. If he had been ready, it would have been another story. I was lucky. Ironic, isn't it?

I left my love, then. I knew that I must. The Sidereals would not know what had happened, but they would guess.

I did not give my blessing to keep her safe. No, she could have been safe with me by then. It was not like those first years, as I desperately tried to find a way to avoid them. I spent five years hiding in the Wyld, but its power ultimately repelled me. I spent ten more in the land of the dead, but it was disgusting and I couldn't bear it any longer. Finally, I tried the most dangerous passage of all. I opened a portal to Malfeas, and called upon half-forgotten names. I don't know what I expected, precisely. I know what I found, and it was glorious.

Zulash, the Hammer of the Unjust, met me at the gates, and told me that I was expected. He took me to the deepest woods of Malfeas, and left. And there, in the shadows of the green sun, I first met my true master, Isodorus. And there my memories were completed, and I understood. There was no higher crime than betrayal. You look after your own. And my shard was one that, long ago, had understood this, had worked tirelessly to undo the wrongs of the gods, only to be destroyed by mistake in the fires of the end of the First Age. For twenty years, it had gradually led me this way, and now I was ready. I pledged myself to Isodorus, and I was remade. I will not bore you with the process; it lies beyond your understanding.

That, I think, is why. I still loved my beloved, but her world was not mine any longer. I visited her again, but she was older and I was the same. She was afraid, I think. Afraid of my reaction. But I smiled, and I shook her husband's hand. I gave them a lavish present. And I took him aside, and quietly informed him that if he ever betrayed her, I would pull off his arms and legs and leave him hanging in a cage in the halls of Hell for a thousand years while every night salt would be rubbed into his eternally bleeding wounds.

They were happily married until his death, forty years later. Of entirely natural causes, I assure you. I still stop by their family from time to time, ensure that fate works their way. Occasionally, it has paid dividends, but that is not why I do it. I do it to remember why loyalty is important, and betrayal is such a curse.

You wonder, I see, lying there in a pool of your own blood, why I am sitting here telling you this, instead of simply striking your head from your shoulders. The town that you tried to defend lies burning, its people slaughtered. Blood stains the very smoke that rises from the buildings. And I warned you, boy, I really did. I told you that you could not hope to stop me from accomplishing my task. But you fought regardless. Even when it became clear to you how hopelessly I outmatched you, you fought me. I respect that. It shows commitment.

No, I’m not going to kill you. My mission here is complete, this town has been destroyed forever, beyond hope of repair. Think of this, young Solar. I know that you hate me now, but in time you may realize. The gods abandoned you, the Sidereals betrayed you, the Terrestrials destroyed you and the Lunars left you. No one in Creation knows loyalty anymore, and it’s all because of that first betrayal. You are a loyal man, and the only true loyalty left is in Malfeas. I have seen the future, and I have seen your face. One day, you will join us in our cause. You cannot escape the simple truth that you will be ever so much happier with us.

Until then, rest. Heal up. Find someone to put those fingers back on. I preserved them for you. If you decide to come after me, you will not find me. Not until you are ready to talk.