Dark Mage
Sanity is really overrated...
- Location
- Out of My Mind
. . . Elwing, the spouse of Eärendil, who can change into a white bird.
Why did I not realize this?
And is the Simurgh form a natural form for her or one forced upon her?
Ring-Maker [Worm/Lord of the Rings Alt-Power] [Complete]
- Thread starter Lithos Maitreya
- Start date
- Crossover Users' Choice!
Voted best in category in the Users' Choice awards.
Why did I not realize this?
And is the Simurgh form a natural form for her or one forced upon her?
- Location
- New Zealand
I can only imagine a member of the Fallen, looking at the host of the elves arriving from outer space, cheering at this proof that the Earth really is flat.
Earendil: "Well, yes, but not for you. You are still wrong."
Earendil: "Well, yes, but not for you. You are still wrong."
Last edited:
Supernova 16.7
Lithos Maitreya
Character Witness
- Location
- United States
Many thanks to @BeaconHill for betareading.
Olórin rode the great eagle-lord Gwaihir to my right. To my left Aiwendil rode another of the massive birds. Half a dozen more surrounded Zion, ridden by others I knew—Gil-galad, Elrond, the former Blue Wizards Alatar and Pallando, and across from me, Eönwë and Ilmarë.
Ilmarë had once been widely acknowledged as the most powerful among the Maiar. I remembered displays of her incredible Voice and Song in the old days. But many ages had passed since then. Magic had faded from the world long ago, and it was not her pure-toned Song which had crept back in through the Rings of Power. I was as powerful now as I had ever been in Mordor, so deeply had I infused myself back into this world.
Zion slowly rotated in place, his eyes passing between us. As he turned, the Vingilot slowed and came to a stop over my shoulder, the Simurgh hovering beside it. Finally, Zion's eyes returned to mine.
"I had assumed you would remain dead when killed," he said, his voice underlaid with Silence like a radio with static. "I will be more thorough this time."
"You can't kill all of us," I said.
He shook his head. "No," he agreed. "At least, not directly."
He moved so quickly that I wasn't at all sure he was bothering to cross the physical space between us. He was in my face in a flash, throwing out a fist shimmering with golden Silence. I dodged to the side, then swung Sunrise at his head.
He didn't dodge. The sword's edge touched his skin and he vanished with a faint pop.
For a moment I blinked, stunned.
"Is it finished already?" Olórin asked, sounding bewildered.
My heart sank. "No," I said. Zion knew he couldn't win here… but he could still escape.
I reached out with my left hand, the One Ring brilliant on my finger, Discord bridging the gap between Silence and Song. My fingers closed around the trail of Zion's passage.
I pulled.
A spherical opening appeared before us, a black hole in space, beyond which I could faintly see twisting, writhing shapes undulating in the dark.
Aiwendil grimaced. "Are we to follow it in there? Into its domain?"
"We must," I said. "These things have destroyed many worlds already. If he escapes, he will destroy many more." I took a deep breath and dove into the abyss.
The first sensation that hit me was one of cold. It was frigid here, in the place between places.
Squirming, spindly things wriggled through the space all around me. At first, it looked like they were winking in and out of existence, until I realized that what I was seeing as the space between one strange, unborn creature and the next wasn't space at all, but another monster. They were everywhere. And as I stepped into the dark, every single one of them turned their innumerable eyes upon me.
They didn't charge me. That would imply there was any available space between us. Instead, they just twisted and started striking, from all directions at once, with a million claws, talons, teeth, and blades. I couldn't dodge them all, so I didn't try. Instead, I dove right through them. My armor took the worst of the damage, denting and deforming around me as my blade arced through the air around me. It was impossible not to hit them, so tightly were they packed.
Behind me, the others had followed and were joining the fray. Olórin moved at my side, Glamdring shimmering brilliantly blue, glowing through the crystalline flesh of the monsters.
"What devils are these?" Eönwë cried in horror and fury.
"We call them Shards!" I shouted over the din of battle. "His children, but also fragments of his power!"
But what was this place? This wasn't the dark place where I had fought my Shard off. Shaper had described the multidimensional habitation of a Shard attached to a host in detail, and their description had never seemed so tightly packed as this…
My eyes widened as I realized. Even as I did, I felt the great Entity stir.
We weren't in Zion's home. We were in Zion.
Silence blasted through the space like an echo through a tunnel. There was no way to dodge, for it echoed through the void itself like vibrations on the skin of a drum. I felt the blast sap away at me, driving the Song from my ears and heart. Ilmarë screamed off to my right, and I heard the two Elves gasp in pain.
What had I expected? Had I assumed I would be able to fight the Entity the same way I had fought its Shard, putting my Song-strengthened blade against his Silence-infused body, and facing him as equals? The Shard that had attempted to connect to me might have been a powerful one, but it was still only one. He had billions. Most of them were still part of him.
Silver light flooded into the darkness as the Vingilot entered the Entity. A beam of brilliance lanced through the void, spearing through the Shards with no resistance. They wailed in agony, and as the light passed over me, I felt my connection to the Song reassert itself over the void.
I turned and leapt onto the ship's deck. The others joined me. The Eagles, I saw, had been left behind, save for Thorondor, who was a Maia.
Upon the deck were two figures. Eärendil stood near the mast, one hand on a rope. When I had first seen him earlier, he had borne a silver crown with a socket for a missing gemstone. That gemstone had now been replaced, and the Silmaril glowed so brightly that I was suddenly ashamed to have ever compared my Rings to stars.
At the prow stood Fortuna. She met my eyes. Her entire body shook with tension, as if simply being here might tear her flesh apart. "He has only one way to escape," she said hoarsely. "It is how they complete the cycle. They cannot cross the vast distances between worlds on their own power. They need to be propelled."
"Propelled by what?" I asked.
She swallowed. "By the detonation of the world they're leaving behind," she said.
My heart froze.
"He's recalling all his shards," she said. "The Ring-Bearers are doing what we can to slow the process—our Shards are still cooperating, as are those of many capes who are particularly close with their powers—but across the world, most parahumans are collapsing as their pollentiae and gemmae hemorrhage. We have perhaps an hour before he destroys Earth. Every Earth."
"Surely a single child of Ungoliant cannot have such terrible power?" Gil-galad asked.
"He does," said Eärendil darkly. "My daughter has confirmed it."
"You… daughter?"
Eärendil gestured to the Silmaril on his brow. Then he looked at me. "There is little time," he said. "Can you find him in this place?"
"He is this place," I said, my voice a little shrill. "Those things"—I gestured at the monsters hanging back from the silver light surrounding us—"are all the Shards he never deployed. We're inside him."
"Then can you find his brain?" Fortuna asked. "We can kill as many Shards as we want—it will not stop him until we destroy one of the key powers he needs."
I turned and looked out, over the prow of the Vingilot at the darkness beyond. Beyond our little circle of light, the world was nothing but a writhing mass of blackness. I took a deep breath of frozen air, slid my eyes shut.
"No," I said. My eyes opened. "But I know who can. A Thinker with a power derived from one of Zion's shards." I heard Fortuna's intake of breath. I turned to her. "Get me Emma."
She turned without a word and leapt back into the portal. A moment later, someone else jumped through. Emma cried out as the unnatural space tore at her Fëa, but her Shard and her Ring held her together. She gritted her teeth and met my eyes.
"Heard you needed a navigator," she said.
I nodded. "We're inside Zion's real body," I said. "Can you find something vital? His nerve center or brain, maybe?"
She stepped up beside me and looked out at the dark. "Not his brain," she said. "But his heart, yes."
I nodded to Eärendil. "Follow her directions!" I ordered. "We'll stay near and keep them off the hull!"
As one, the rest of us leapt from the deck of the Vingilot and dove back into battle. Silence boomed through the darkness again, but in the light of the Vingilot, with the Silmaril's power blasting alongside us, we could not be severed from the Song. We had brought the Light of Sun and Moon into the void, and such light could not be extinguished.
The silver ship sailed through the dark, a shooting star through a black sky, and we defended it as the monsters surged forth to destroy it. They were frantic now, realizing that we now had a navigator to take us to the center of this place. They threw themselves at us like waves at the shore, and they broke upon our blades in the same way.
The distances were vast, but the Vingilot had sailed the seas of the night sky, and Eärendil was an accomplished sailor. The ship cut through the darkness like a knife through flesh, and we nine warriors followed alongside.
After several minutes of hard fighting, I realized we were no longer fighting in darkness. The shadows had given way. I turned to look.
The silver ship was sailing towards a wall of mist, pulsing with a dull, red-gold glow. But between us and our target were two massive Shards, flanking what looked like a young girl. Her hair was blonde, her eyes shimmered luminous green, and her cloak and robes were green and black, glittering in the clashing lights.
The Shard on her left turned its attention to me. I knew this one. It had tried to make me into its host, months ago. The one on her right I had never seen in person… but I recognized Broadcast nonetheless.
The Vingilot slowed. I darted in front of it, a few dozen feet from the girl. She met my eyes.
"Mairë," she said.
I knew who this was, though we had never met. "Glaistig Uaine. You are aware that you are currently standing in defense of a creature that intends to destroy your world?"
She nodded. "I am the Faerie Queen," she said. "I am not human, any more than you. I will stand in defense of the King."
I shook my head. "You're being lied to," I said, "and you're lying to yourself. You must know this. Stand aside."
"And what?" she asked. "Allow you to destroy the Faerie King?"
I blinked once, slowly. "You're not worried about him," I said. "You're worried that this will destroy your power too. You're worried that we're about to take the only thing that has given your life meaning these past twenty years."
Olórin drew up beside me. I felt his eyes on me. Glaistig Uaine did not seem to notice him. Her eyes were fixed on me. Around her, strange shadowy silhouette-people seemed to shuffle their feet.
"Will you?" she asked. "Destroy my Fae?"
"Of course she will," said Broadcast in his horrible, Silently deafening voice.
"Not if it chooses you," I said softly. "Shards are capable of choice. I know this. I have seen it. You want your Shard. You need it. You care for it, in your way. If that relationship is reciprocated, let it choose to remain with you. I don't need to drive its kind extinct. I just need to stop Zion from destroying Earth."
She hesitated for a moment. Beside her, the Shard that had tried to attach to me shifted. Its eyes bored into mine accusingly. The Faerie queen looked at it, but before she could speak, I did.
"I'm sorry," I told it honestly. "You came to me, as is your habit, when I was at a low point. I recognized you as anathema—I did not understand, then, that you could come to be an ally and a friend. I have learned better now. You don't have to die, either. Step aside. Let us through." I looked at Broadcast. "Even you, Broadcast. We don't have to be enemies. But I am getting past you, one way or another. I must."
All three defenders watched me for a moment. Then Glaistig Uaine closed her eyes.
"I cannot speak with my Fae directly," she said. She looked at me again. "All of these," she said, gesturing out at the sea of monsters behind us. "Will they all die when you kill the Faerie King? Are you suggesting I ask my partner to abandon her people to extinction?"
She's asking the same of you, I noted but did not say. The girl knew that, and thought it was worth it. She saw her relationship with her power as inherently skewed in her favor—and was willing to make great sacrifices to keep it. I hoped and prayed that her Shard valued her as much as she seemed to value it. "They needn't," I said instead. "If they are still here, embedded within him, when he dies, I expect they will have only a brief window to flee. But if they leave now, flee to the physical world outside, they can survive. We will do what we can to accommodate them—to teach them our ways and learn theirs so that we can coexist. Harmony, rather than parasitism."
The Faerie Queen bit her lip. It was a remarkably childlike expression.
"We're running out of time!" Emma called from the deck of the Vingilot.
"Please," I said.
It wasn't the Faerie Queen who moved. It was my Shard, the one that had tried to bind to me. It twisted, its innumerable legs propelling it away from the red-gold mist. It drifted towards us. Olórin raised his weapon beside me, but I did not raise mine.
The Shard came to a halt between the two lines. Somehow, despite its immense size, it fit in the few meters between me and Glaistig Uaine. All of its eyes were gazing at me.
Administrator, it said. Queen Administrator.
I blinked, remembering Broadcast listing the Shards I had fought. "That's you?" I asked.
Affirmation. It seemed to hesitate. Host? Assistance?
For a moment a rejection hung on the tip of my tongue. Then I thought about it. "We can discuss it," I said. "Not now, but after this is done. If we are all alive. I will consider it."
"This is madness," said Broadcast.
The Queen Administrator ignored him. She turned her bulk and drifted past me, past the Vingilot, and out of Zion's mass.
Glaistig Uaine stared after her for a moment. Then looked at me again. She swallowed.
"I will trust," she said softly, "that my Fae cares for me even a fraction as much as I care for it. I will hope. Not because I care about Earth or its people, but because I cannot bear the thought that I might be wrong."
"I understand," I said. "I'm sorry to put you in this position."
She nodded. One of her shadows made a gesture, and she vanished into a puff of pale mist.
Broadcast's numberless eyes were fixed on me. "I," he said, "shall not abandon my post. This is one Monarch you will have to fight."
"You overestimate yourself," I said, just as Eärendil unleashed a blast of light from his Silmaril. Broadcast screamed as the undiluted power seared him. I followed it in before he could defend himself. Sunrise sank deep into the crystalline flesh, deeper in this place than it could have anywhere else. The entire mass rang like a glass gong, and then without even striking a single blow, Broadcast's body shattered, breaking into innumerable splinters which sailed out into the black like glittering rain.
The mass of lesser Shards behind us scattered. Many dove for us, trying in vain to stop us before we could press on, but many more fled the scene, seeking to take me up on my offered mercy by abandoning their progenitor.
The Vingilot darted forward like a silver arrow. We all leapt onto its deck as it pushed into the wall of mist. Wisps of red and gold passed among us like twining serpents as we pressed forward into the heart of Zion.
"You and Curumo were very similar," Olórin said softly, beside me. "The way you negotiated, offered mercy… I was reminded of him, at his best."
"I never had the opportunity to see him turn his voice on anyone but myself," I admitted. "And I was stronger than he. I wish I had. Even when he served me, he carried himself with elegance and grace I envied. He must have been incredible before his fall."
"He was," said Olórin sadly.
The mist before us gave way, revealing a sphere of empty space. The wall of mist ensconced it like the shell of an egg. In the exact center was the Entity's heart.
Its body was that of a black, hairy spider, but with far too many legs jutting out at odd angles from its bulk. Those legs faded past the first joint, turning into red tendrils, like arteries or veins, which trailed out into the mist surrounding it.
The Vingilot drifted forward. I jumped off the deck and darted ahead until I was only a few feet from the creature's face. It was fixed in place, unable to defend itself or even to move. All that should have shielded it now lay behind.
It had only eight eyes, all looking at me with dark intellect. Its mandibles shook as it spoke with Zion's voice. "So," he said. "Here you are. My Shards failed to delay you."
"You don't have to die," I said.
"You would show me mercy?" he asked. "After I killed your lover, ravaged your world, slaughtered your people? You would let me live?"
"If you begged mercy and swore never to harm anyone again, yes," I said.
His eyes blinked—not all at once, but in series. "I will not so beg, and I will not so swear," he said.
I smiled. There was no happiness in it. "Good," I said. "This is for Sophia, you son of a bitch."
Sunrise buried itself in his head, cleaving right between his middle two eyes. Those eyes rotated to gaze at the blade. His mandibles drooped. The red tendrils binding the heart to the rest of the Entity dissipated into red smoke.
I tugged my sword out, and Zion drifted away from me, his body coming apart like an ember collapsing into ash. In mere moments, only dust was left. Then even that was gone.
Zion was dead.
I leapt back aboard the Vingilot as a Silent scream, a death-rattle, echoed through the encompassing space. I noticed immediately that Emma had collapsed, bleeding from her nose, her eyes glazed and staring upward. Olórin and Elrond had knelt beside her and seemed to be trying to diagnose her condition. I registered this at the exact same time that I realized I did not have time to worry about it. "Eärendil!" I ordered. "Get us out of here!"
The Elf who had once been a Man nodded and threw his weight onto the wheel, turning us about in the air.
The path back to the portal was far faster than the one to Zion's heart. A good thing, because as the very fabric of space around us began to quake and tear I wasn't sure even our faster flight would be fast enough. No Shards tried to stop us—they were all doing their best to flee too.
The Vingilot wove from side to side, dodging through crumbling spacetime like a canoe dodging ice floes. At long last, I saw a sky-blue sphere in the distance.
"There!" I shouted, pointing.
Eärendil made a beeline for the portal, narrowly dodging a shuddering rift in the world which opened in our path. As we approached, the portal cracked like a glass bead, light leaking out through the fissure.
"Quick!" I screamed.
The Vingilot shattered the portal as it passed through. Shards of light scattered around us before fading away as we broke out into the evening sky. I heard cheering break out as we emerged, and several of my Ring-Bearers landed on the deck, dropping down from Dragoncraft above. Dragon herself, eyes glowing with power and bright with relief, threw her arms around me and squeezed me tight. I squeezed her back.
There were no words. Fortuna was sobbing as she clutched David, who was shaking like a leaf on the wind. I looked past them at where Emma was shaking her head and wiping the blood beneath her nose with her sleeve. She waved away the concern of the Maia and Elf hovering over her and met my eyes.
A smile broke out across my face as I reached out to her mind across the Rings. If you had told me a year ago, I said, that Emma Barnes was going to save the multiverse, I would have called you crazy. As her face fell, I continued. But if you told me the same thing three years ago, it would have made perfect sense to me.
Her face froze. Her eyes sparkled. She gave me a small, fragile smile, but it was more sincere than any I had seen from her in years, unmarred by shame or melancholy.
I could say exactly the same thing about you, Taylor, she replied.
I was still smiling as I turned away from her. I pulled away from Dragon and stepped up to the prow of the ship, looking forward into the Western sky.
The Sun was setting. It was just starting to sink beneath the horizon, dipping its toes in the Pacific. I gazed into the light, feeling the breeze on my cheeks, cold against the tracking tears already falling from my eyes. I wondered if, wherever she was now, Sophia was watching the same sunset.
I let my eyes drift closed, breathing deep of the temperate evening air. Dragon stepped up, joining me at the prow.
"Everything's going to be different now, isn't it?" she asked softly. "You came back from the dead. And these people you brought back with you, they're not going anywhere."
I nodded. I opened my eyes and met her gaze. "Zion is gone," I said, "but more like him are out there, preying on countless worlds. His death will ring out like a horn-call to his kind, and anyone else who knows how to listen. With his death, the last war, Dagor Dagorath, is declared. Something ends, and something begins. The Eldar and Ainur have come out of the West, and they're not going back again."
Dragon nodded slowly. "I was so scared when you died," she admitted. "I thought that was it. I thought it was all over, that without you there was no hope. All we could do was slow him down. Then you came back." Her eyes were sad. "But Sophia isn't coming back, is she?"
"She was human," I said hoarsely, looking back towards the sunset as more tears fell. "She will come back. But not until the very end." I took a deep breath. "We have a lot of work to do before then."
"Shall we get started, then?"
I smiled, wiping away my tears. "Maybe tomorrow," I said. "Tonight… I might not need to sleep, but I want nothing more than a bed right now."
Dragon laughed quietly. "Let's get you to one, then," she said. "Door to Taylor's room, Brockton Bay."
The portal opened in the air behind me. I didn't move for a moment, staring out into the West.
"Good night, Sophia," I whispered into the West Wind. "I love you."
Then I turned and stepped through the portal. I crossed my room, fell into my bed, armor and all, and was asleep before my head hit the pillow.
-x-x-x-
Olórin rode the great eagle-lord Gwaihir to my right. To my left Aiwendil rode another of the massive birds. Half a dozen more surrounded Zion, ridden by others I knew—Gil-galad, Elrond, the former Blue Wizards Alatar and Pallando, and across from me, Eönwë and Ilmarë.
Ilmarë had once been widely acknowledged as the most powerful among the Maiar. I remembered displays of her incredible Voice and Song in the old days. But many ages had passed since then. Magic had faded from the world long ago, and it was not her pure-toned Song which had crept back in through the Rings of Power. I was as powerful now as I had ever been in Mordor, so deeply had I infused myself back into this world.
Zion slowly rotated in place, his eyes passing between us. As he turned, the Vingilot slowed and came to a stop over my shoulder, the Simurgh hovering beside it. Finally, Zion's eyes returned to mine.
"I had assumed you would remain dead when killed," he said, his voice underlaid with Silence like a radio with static. "I will be more thorough this time."
"You can't kill all of us," I said.
He shook his head. "No," he agreed. "At least, not directly."
He moved so quickly that I wasn't at all sure he was bothering to cross the physical space between us. He was in my face in a flash, throwing out a fist shimmering with golden Silence. I dodged to the side, then swung Sunrise at his head.
He didn't dodge. The sword's edge touched his skin and he vanished with a faint pop.
For a moment I blinked, stunned.
"Is it finished already?" Olórin asked, sounding bewildered.
My heart sank. "No," I said. Zion knew he couldn't win here… but he could still escape.
I reached out with my left hand, the One Ring brilliant on my finger, Discord bridging the gap between Silence and Song. My fingers closed around the trail of Zion's passage.
I pulled.
A spherical opening appeared before us, a black hole in space, beyond which I could faintly see twisting, writhing shapes undulating in the dark.
Aiwendil grimaced. "Are we to follow it in there? Into its domain?"
"We must," I said. "These things have destroyed many worlds already. If he escapes, he will destroy many more." I took a deep breath and dove into the abyss.
The first sensation that hit me was one of cold. It was frigid here, in the place between places.
Squirming, spindly things wriggled through the space all around me. At first, it looked like they were winking in and out of existence, until I realized that what I was seeing as the space between one strange, unborn creature and the next wasn't space at all, but another monster. They were everywhere. And as I stepped into the dark, every single one of them turned their innumerable eyes upon me.
They didn't charge me. That would imply there was any available space between us. Instead, they just twisted and started striking, from all directions at once, with a million claws, talons, teeth, and blades. I couldn't dodge them all, so I didn't try. Instead, I dove right through them. My armor took the worst of the damage, denting and deforming around me as my blade arced through the air around me. It was impossible not to hit them, so tightly were they packed.
Behind me, the others had followed and were joining the fray. Olórin moved at my side, Glamdring shimmering brilliantly blue, glowing through the crystalline flesh of the monsters.
"What devils are these?" Eönwë cried in horror and fury.
"We call them Shards!" I shouted over the din of battle. "His children, but also fragments of his power!"
But what was this place? This wasn't the dark place where I had fought my Shard off. Shaper had described the multidimensional habitation of a Shard attached to a host in detail, and their description had never seemed so tightly packed as this…
My eyes widened as I realized. Even as I did, I felt the great Entity stir.
We weren't in Zion's home. We were in Zion.
Silence blasted through the space like an echo through a tunnel. There was no way to dodge, for it echoed through the void itself like vibrations on the skin of a drum. I felt the blast sap away at me, driving the Song from my ears and heart. Ilmarë screamed off to my right, and I heard the two Elves gasp in pain.
What had I expected? Had I assumed I would be able to fight the Entity the same way I had fought its Shard, putting my Song-strengthened blade against his Silence-infused body, and facing him as equals? The Shard that had attempted to connect to me might have been a powerful one, but it was still only one. He had billions. Most of them were still part of him.
Silver light flooded into the darkness as the Vingilot entered the Entity. A beam of brilliance lanced through the void, spearing through the Shards with no resistance. They wailed in agony, and as the light passed over me, I felt my connection to the Song reassert itself over the void.
I turned and leapt onto the ship's deck. The others joined me. The Eagles, I saw, had been left behind, save for Thorondor, who was a Maia.
Upon the deck were two figures. Eärendil stood near the mast, one hand on a rope. When I had first seen him earlier, he had borne a silver crown with a socket for a missing gemstone. That gemstone had now been replaced, and the Silmaril glowed so brightly that I was suddenly ashamed to have ever compared my Rings to stars.
At the prow stood Fortuna. She met my eyes. Her entire body shook with tension, as if simply being here might tear her flesh apart. "He has only one way to escape," she said hoarsely. "It is how they complete the cycle. They cannot cross the vast distances between worlds on their own power. They need to be propelled."
"Propelled by what?" I asked.
She swallowed. "By the detonation of the world they're leaving behind," she said.
My heart froze.
"He's recalling all his shards," she said. "The Ring-Bearers are doing what we can to slow the process—our Shards are still cooperating, as are those of many capes who are particularly close with their powers—but across the world, most parahumans are collapsing as their pollentiae and gemmae hemorrhage. We have perhaps an hour before he destroys Earth. Every Earth."
"Surely a single child of Ungoliant cannot have such terrible power?" Gil-galad asked.
"He does," said Eärendil darkly. "My daughter has confirmed it."
"You… daughter?"
Eärendil gestured to the Silmaril on his brow. Then he looked at me. "There is little time," he said. "Can you find him in this place?"
"He is this place," I said, my voice a little shrill. "Those things"—I gestured at the monsters hanging back from the silver light surrounding us—"are all the Shards he never deployed. We're inside him."
"Then can you find his brain?" Fortuna asked. "We can kill as many Shards as we want—it will not stop him until we destroy one of the key powers he needs."
I turned and looked out, over the prow of the Vingilot at the darkness beyond. Beyond our little circle of light, the world was nothing but a writhing mass of blackness. I took a deep breath of frozen air, slid my eyes shut.
"No," I said. My eyes opened. "But I know who can. A Thinker with a power derived from one of Zion's shards." I heard Fortuna's intake of breath. I turned to her. "Get me Emma."
She turned without a word and leapt back into the portal. A moment later, someone else jumped through. Emma cried out as the unnatural space tore at her Fëa, but her Shard and her Ring held her together. She gritted her teeth and met my eyes.
"Heard you needed a navigator," she said.
I nodded. "We're inside Zion's real body," I said. "Can you find something vital? His nerve center or brain, maybe?"
She stepped up beside me and looked out at the dark. "Not his brain," she said. "But his heart, yes."
I nodded to Eärendil. "Follow her directions!" I ordered. "We'll stay near and keep them off the hull!"
As one, the rest of us leapt from the deck of the Vingilot and dove back into battle. Silence boomed through the darkness again, but in the light of the Vingilot, with the Silmaril's power blasting alongside us, we could not be severed from the Song. We had brought the Light of Sun and Moon into the void, and such light could not be extinguished.
The silver ship sailed through the dark, a shooting star through a black sky, and we defended it as the monsters surged forth to destroy it. They were frantic now, realizing that we now had a navigator to take us to the center of this place. They threw themselves at us like waves at the shore, and they broke upon our blades in the same way.
The distances were vast, but the Vingilot had sailed the seas of the night sky, and Eärendil was an accomplished sailor. The ship cut through the darkness like a knife through flesh, and we nine warriors followed alongside.
After several minutes of hard fighting, I realized we were no longer fighting in darkness. The shadows had given way. I turned to look.
The silver ship was sailing towards a wall of mist, pulsing with a dull, red-gold glow. But between us and our target were two massive Shards, flanking what looked like a young girl. Her hair was blonde, her eyes shimmered luminous green, and her cloak and robes were green and black, glittering in the clashing lights.
The Shard on her left turned its attention to me. I knew this one. It had tried to make me into its host, months ago. The one on her right I had never seen in person… but I recognized Broadcast nonetheless.
The Vingilot slowed. I darted in front of it, a few dozen feet from the girl. She met my eyes.
"Mairë," she said.
I knew who this was, though we had never met. "Glaistig Uaine. You are aware that you are currently standing in defense of a creature that intends to destroy your world?"
She nodded. "I am the Faerie Queen," she said. "I am not human, any more than you. I will stand in defense of the King."
I shook my head. "You're being lied to," I said, "and you're lying to yourself. You must know this. Stand aside."
"And what?" she asked. "Allow you to destroy the Faerie King?"
I blinked once, slowly. "You're not worried about him," I said. "You're worried that this will destroy your power too. You're worried that we're about to take the only thing that has given your life meaning these past twenty years."
Olórin drew up beside me. I felt his eyes on me. Glaistig Uaine did not seem to notice him. Her eyes were fixed on me. Around her, strange shadowy silhouette-people seemed to shuffle their feet.
"Will you?" she asked. "Destroy my Fae?"
"Of course she will," said Broadcast in his horrible, Silently deafening voice.
"Not if it chooses you," I said softly. "Shards are capable of choice. I know this. I have seen it. You want your Shard. You need it. You care for it, in your way. If that relationship is reciprocated, let it choose to remain with you. I don't need to drive its kind extinct. I just need to stop Zion from destroying Earth."
She hesitated for a moment. Beside her, the Shard that had tried to attach to me shifted. Its eyes bored into mine accusingly. The Faerie queen looked at it, but before she could speak, I did.
"I'm sorry," I told it honestly. "You came to me, as is your habit, when I was at a low point. I recognized you as anathema—I did not understand, then, that you could come to be an ally and a friend. I have learned better now. You don't have to die, either. Step aside. Let us through." I looked at Broadcast. "Even you, Broadcast. We don't have to be enemies. But I am getting past you, one way or another. I must."
All three defenders watched me for a moment. Then Glaistig Uaine closed her eyes.
"I cannot speak with my Fae directly," she said. She looked at me again. "All of these," she said, gesturing out at the sea of monsters behind us. "Will they all die when you kill the Faerie King? Are you suggesting I ask my partner to abandon her people to extinction?"
She's asking the same of you, I noted but did not say. The girl knew that, and thought it was worth it. She saw her relationship with her power as inherently skewed in her favor—and was willing to make great sacrifices to keep it. I hoped and prayed that her Shard valued her as much as she seemed to value it. "They needn't," I said instead. "If they are still here, embedded within him, when he dies, I expect they will have only a brief window to flee. But if they leave now, flee to the physical world outside, they can survive. We will do what we can to accommodate them—to teach them our ways and learn theirs so that we can coexist. Harmony, rather than parasitism."
The Faerie Queen bit her lip. It was a remarkably childlike expression.
"We're running out of time!" Emma called from the deck of the Vingilot.
"Please," I said.
It wasn't the Faerie Queen who moved. It was my Shard, the one that had tried to bind to me. It twisted, its innumerable legs propelling it away from the red-gold mist. It drifted towards us. Olórin raised his weapon beside me, but I did not raise mine.
The Shard came to a halt between the two lines. Somehow, despite its immense size, it fit in the few meters between me and Glaistig Uaine. All of its eyes were gazing at me.
Administrator, it said. Queen Administrator.
I blinked, remembering Broadcast listing the Shards I had fought. "That's you?" I asked.
Affirmation. It seemed to hesitate. Host? Assistance?
For a moment a rejection hung on the tip of my tongue. Then I thought about it. "We can discuss it," I said. "Not now, but after this is done. If we are all alive. I will consider it."
"This is madness," said Broadcast.
The Queen Administrator ignored him. She turned her bulk and drifted past me, past the Vingilot, and out of Zion's mass.
Glaistig Uaine stared after her for a moment. Then looked at me again. She swallowed.
"I will trust," she said softly, "that my Fae cares for me even a fraction as much as I care for it. I will hope. Not because I care about Earth or its people, but because I cannot bear the thought that I might be wrong."
"I understand," I said. "I'm sorry to put you in this position."
She nodded. One of her shadows made a gesture, and she vanished into a puff of pale mist.
Broadcast's numberless eyes were fixed on me. "I," he said, "shall not abandon my post. This is one Monarch you will have to fight."
"You overestimate yourself," I said, just as Eärendil unleashed a blast of light from his Silmaril. Broadcast screamed as the undiluted power seared him. I followed it in before he could defend himself. Sunrise sank deep into the crystalline flesh, deeper in this place than it could have anywhere else. The entire mass rang like a glass gong, and then without even striking a single blow, Broadcast's body shattered, breaking into innumerable splinters which sailed out into the black like glittering rain.
The mass of lesser Shards behind us scattered. Many dove for us, trying in vain to stop us before we could press on, but many more fled the scene, seeking to take me up on my offered mercy by abandoning their progenitor.
The Vingilot darted forward like a silver arrow. We all leapt onto its deck as it pushed into the wall of mist. Wisps of red and gold passed among us like twining serpents as we pressed forward into the heart of Zion.
"You and Curumo were very similar," Olórin said softly, beside me. "The way you negotiated, offered mercy… I was reminded of him, at his best."
"I never had the opportunity to see him turn his voice on anyone but myself," I admitted. "And I was stronger than he. I wish I had. Even when he served me, he carried himself with elegance and grace I envied. He must have been incredible before his fall."
"He was," said Olórin sadly.
The mist before us gave way, revealing a sphere of empty space. The wall of mist ensconced it like the shell of an egg. In the exact center was the Entity's heart.
Its body was that of a black, hairy spider, but with far too many legs jutting out at odd angles from its bulk. Those legs faded past the first joint, turning into red tendrils, like arteries or veins, which trailed out into the mist surrounding it.
The Vingilot drifted forward. I jumped off the deck and darted ahead until I was only a few feet from the creature's face. It was fixed in place, unable to defend itself or even to move. All that should have shielded it now lay behind.
It had only eight eyes, all looking at me with dark intellect. Its mandibles shook as it spoke with Zion's voice. "So," he said. "Here you are. My Shards failed to delay you."
"You don't have to die," I said.
"You would show me mercy?" he asked. "After I killed your lover, ravaged your world, slaughtered your people? You would let me live?"
"If you begged mercy and swore never to harm anyone again, yes," I said.
His eyes blinked—not all at once, but in series. "I will not so beg, and I will not so swear," he said.
I smiled. There was no happiness in it. "Good," I said. "This is for Sophia, you son of a bitch."
Sunrise buried itself in his head, cleaving right between his middle two eyes. Those eyes rotated to gaze at the blade. His mandibles drooped. The red tendrils binding the heart to the rest of the Entity dissipated into red smoke.
I tugged my sword out, and Zion drifted away from me, his body coming apart like an ember collapsing into ash. In mere moments, only dust was left. Then even that was gone.
Zion was dead.
I leapt back aboard the Vingilot as a Silent scream, a death-rattle, echoed through the encompassing space. I noticed immediately that Emma had collapsed, bleeding from her nose, her eyes glazed and staring upward. Olórin and Elrond had knelt beside her and seemed to be trying to diagnose her condition. I registered this at the exact same time that I realized I did not have time to worry about it. "Eärendil!" I ordered. "Get us out of here!"
The Elf who had once been a Man nodded and threw his weight onto the wheel, turning us about in the air.
The path back to the portal was far faster than the one to Zion's heart. A good thing, because as the very fabric of space around us began to quake and tear I wasn't sure even our faster flight would be fast enough. No Shards tried to stop us—they were all doing their best to flee too.
The Vingilot wove from side to side, dodging through crumbling spacetime like a canoe dodging ice floes. At long last, I saw a sky-blue sphere in the distance.
"There!" I shouted, pointing.
Eärendil made a beeline for the portal, narrowly dodging a shuddering rift in the world which opened in our path. As we approached, the portal cracked like a glass bead, light leaking out through the fissure.
"Quick!" I screamed.
The Vingilot shattered the portal as it passed through. Shards of light scattered around us before fading away as we broke out into the evening sky. I heard cheering break out as we emerged, and several of my Ring-Bearers landed on the deck, dropping down from Dragoncraft above. Dragon herself, eyes glowing with power and bright with relief, threw her arms around me and squeezed me tight. I squeezed her back.
There were no words. Fortuna was sobbing as she clutched David, who was shaking like a leaf on the wind. I looked past them at where Emma was shaking her head and wiping the blood beneath her nose with her sleeve. She waved away the concern of the Maia and Elf hovering over her and met my eyes.
A smile broke out across my face as I reached out to her mind across the Rings. If you had told me a year ago, I said, that Emma Barnes was going to save the multiverse, I would have called you crazy. As her face fell, I continued. But if you told me the same thing three years ago, it would have made perfect sense to me.
Her face froze. Her eyes sparkled. She gave me a small, fragile smile, but it was more sincere than any I had seen from her in years, unmarred by shame or melancholy.
I could say exactly the same thing about you, Taylor, she replied.
I was still smiling as I turned away from her. I pulled away from Dragon and stepped up to the prow of the ship, looking forward into the Western sky.
The Sun was setting. It was just starting to sink beneath the horizon, dipping its toes in the Pacific. I gazed into the light, feeling the breeze on my cheeks, cold against the tracking tears already falling from my eyes. I wondered if, wherever she was now, Sophia was watching the same sunset.
I let my eyes drift closed, breathing deep of the temperate evening air. Dragon stepped up, joining me at the prow.
"Everything's going to be different now, isn't it?" she asked softly. "You came back from the dead. And these people you brought back with you, they're not going anywhere."
I nodded. I opened my eyes and met her gaze. "Zion is gone," I said, "but more like him are out there, preying on countless worlds. His death will ring out like a horn-call to his kind, and anyone else who knows how to listen. With his death, the last war, Dagor Dagorath, is declared. Something ends, and something begins. The Eldar and Ainur have come out of the West, and they're not going back again."
Dragon nodded slowly. "I was so scared when you died," she admitted. "I thought that was it. I thought it was all over, that without you there was no hope. All we could do was slow him down. Then you came back." Her eyes were sad. "But Sophia isn't coming back, is she?"
"She was human," I said hoarsely, looking back towards the sunset as more tears fell. "She will come back. But not until the very end." I took a deep breath. "We have a lot of work to do before then."
"Shall we get started, then?"
I smiled, wiping away my tears. "Maybe tomorrow," I said. "Tonight… I might not need to sleep, but I want nothing more than a bed right now."
Dragon laughed quietly. "Let's get you to one, then," she said. "Door to Taylor's room, Brockton Bay."
The portal opened in the air behind me. I didn't move for a moment, staring out into the West.
"Good night, Sophia," I whispered into the West Wind. "I love you."
Then I turned and stepped through the portal. I crossed my room, fell into my bed, armor and all, and was asleep before my head hit the pillow.
End Arc 16: Supernova
I realize this fic is extremely different cosmologically from Worm canon, to put it mildly, but it still feels odd seeing Scion having to treat any Legendarium entity short of Eru Illuvatar or maybe all the Valar combined as anything more than a speedbump.
Of course, Professor Tolkien never cared much for power levels.
Of course, Professor Tolkien never cared much for power levels.
Both an excellent set of lines and an excellent glimpse into why the character development in this fic is so damn awesome.
Lithos Maitreya
Character Witness
- Location
- United States
Six chapters remain. The Epilogue Arc is titled Constellation, and comprises E.1-E.5, plus one interlude. E.4 and E.5 are both half-length chapters, and as such will be posted during the same week.
To those of you who are here for this in the moment, thank you. It has been an honor. For those of you who stumble upon this in future, I am honored to be remembered.
The first Ring-Maker sidequel will be a short story of under 25k words. Drafting has already begun for this project. Current working title is The Seventh Coming. More details will be forthcoming after the epilogues are posted. It is not a Worm story in any way except that it occurs in a shared multiverse with Ring-Maker.
The second Ring-Maker sidequel will be a much longer story. It's title will be announced upon posting of Interlude E.4. It is only a worm story by the barest technicalities, and I am still trying to figure out whether it needs to be posted in the Worm subforums.
Neither of these stories are intended to be posted until I have finished The Witching Hour. The current plan is to continue uploading chapters once a week for the foreseeable future. Once Ring-Maker concludes, I will proceed to The Witching Hour, and then to The Seventh Coming. After that I may take a brief detour to explore another short fic before diving into the next large project in the Ring-Maker continuity.
To those of you who are here for this in the moment, thank you. It has been an honor. For those of you who stumble upon this in future, I am honored to be remembered.
The first Ring-Maker sidequel will be a short story of under 25k words. Drafting has already begun for this project. Current working title is The Seventh Coming. More details will be forthcoming after the epilogues are posted. It is not a Worm story in any way except that it occurs in a shared multiverse with Ring-Maker.
The second Ring-Maker sidequel will be a much longer story. It's title will be announced upon posting of Interlude E.4. It is only a worm story by the barest technicalities, and I am still trying to figure out whether it needs to be posted in the Worm subforums.
Neither of these stories are intended to be posted until I have finished The Witching Hour. The current plan is to continue uploading chapters once a week for the foreseeable future. Once Ring-Maker concludes, I will proceed to The Witching Hour, and then to The Seventh Coming. After that I may take a brief detour to explore another short fic before diving into the next large project in the Ring-Maker continuity.
K von Carstein
Likes to go for a walk
- Location
- Belgium
- Pronouns
- He
Thanks for writing this story!😀
Seconded! With Great Vim and Vigor!
Thank you for investing so much time into this story.
I am looking to reading your future projects.
Keep up the good work.
- Location
- New Zealand
I have to say, you have done an amazing job of fusing together two settings as different to one another as Tolkien and Worm.
There were several times when I just had to stop and admire a particular turn of phrase. Thank you so much for writing this story.
There were several times when I just had to stop and admire a particular turn of phrase. Thank you so much for writing this story.
Well, technically, this version of Earth Bet is Middle Earth after somewhere between four and six thousand years have past.
Mount Doom did map onto Yellowstone National Park after all.
Lithos Maitreya
Character Witness
- Location
- United States
It would be more accurate to say that Middle-Earth as it was in the early Ages no longer exists. It was Sundered into the multiverse. Fragments of it have found their way into every world, some small, some larger. Orodruin is on Earth Bet, but--for example--the Palantíri, Mirrormere, the Lonely Mountain, and the descendants of the Mearas are not. No, I did not choose those examples at random.
So wait, does that mean that Taylor and company will going a 'tour of the multiverse' and discover those 'missing fragments' of the lands of myth.
If so, I can't wait for that to happen.
Will the ruins of a white city with seven tiers be found?
Garreon
Paldean Top Champion
- Location
- Mesagoza, Paldea
Oh god, that sounds fucking awesome
Huh, so earth bet formed around mount doom and a few bits of Mordor, its literally the darkest remnants of middle earth. That uh, explains alot.
I had not thought about it that way. Thank you for posting that comment. It was really helpful.
Earth Bet in general and this story in particular make a lot more sense now.
I wonder what became of Rivendell, Moria, Isengard, and Mirkwood?
- Location
- Software
Yeah Lithos, thanks for the story, tis awesome!
If someone would tell me I would enjoy so much a Taylor/Sophia story I would call them nuts before this. With a believable Emma redemption! Really nuts
Great job. Also please leave links to the sequels here when you start them.
If someone would tell me I would enjoy so much a Taylor/Sophia story I would call them nuts before this. With a believable Emma redemption! Really nuts
Great job. Also please leave links to the sequels here when you start them.
Lithos Maitreya
Character Witness
- Location
- United States
Oh, of course!
Do I sense Durin? Please let it be dwarves.
PS: Great work on this story
Well, Lithos did specifically mention the Lonely Mountain, so you might get your dwarves.
Constellation E.1
Lithos Maitreya
Character Witness
- Location
- United States
Many thanks to @BeaconHill for betareading.
There was no body to bury, but that did not stop us from having a funeral.
Leviathan helped us find those parts of Sophia's costume that had been washed away by the surf. I brought them back to Brockton Bay, where I built a small marble mausoleum, like a stone casket laying among the grasses of the graveyard. The cemetery was outside the city, on a hill to the south. In the distance I could see the ocean behind the white tomb, waves gently lapping against the shore.
The sun was bright today, without a cloud in the sky. I tried not to resent that.
There weren't many people assembled here. The Ring-Bearers and a few close friends and family, no more. We had all been catapulted into celebrity by the battle, but Dragon and the PRT's Image department had managed to control things enough to give us this privacy.
The tomb lay open, its engraved stone lid resting on its side. Within the casket I laid what remained of Sophia's costume, which had been repaired to close the hole in the torso. Upon the chest I laid Amauril, and in the palm of the left glove I placed Cenya, still glittering faintly in the sunlight. Raumo and Alca I set beside the hips, near where they would have been sheathed.
I swallowed as I looked down at the empty mask. I had expected it to be harder, to be here without even a body to bury, but it somehow wasn't. I didn't have to look down at her and see her lying there lifeless. Even so, I swallowed painfully as I gazed into the empty eyeholes of her mask.
I stepped away. Colin rested his hand on my shoulder, squeezing tightly. I could hear the effort it took him to keep his breathing steady as he struggled to remain stoic. A few paces to my left, Sophia's mother was weeping openly. Her brother's jaw was clenched, eyes damp and unblinking. Even little Angela was staring at the grave, a look of bewilderment on her tiny face. Steven had not been invited. I gathered that he and Sophia's mother were no longer living together. It remained to be seen where that would lead.
To my right, the other former Brockton Bay Wards were gathered in a tight group. Dennis shook slightly in Crystal's arms. Tears were tracking down Dean and Chris' cheeks, but Sam and Missy's eyes were dry, if red. Carlos stood like a statue, tension in every line of his body. He seemed to feel my gaze and turned to me, dark eyes glistening, but no tears fell.
I looked away, turning back to the tomb. I looked past it at Olórin, whose eyes were sad as he studied me. I nodded once, tightly.
He nodded back and began to speak. "Today," he said, in his old, thoughtful voice, "we remember a hero."
I let his words wash over me as he continued. Dragon had asked if I wanted to officiate the funeral. So had Colin. So had Sophia's own mother. I had told all of them no. I wanted to mourn. In this one thing, I wasn't any different from anyone else. I wasn't a Maia, an agent of the Song, today.
Today, I was just a girl who had lost the one she loved.
"I never knew Sophia Hess," Olórin was saying. "But I feel the effects of her life every day. I am more grateful to her than I can say. She was not perfect, but by her example was the life of everyone who cared for her made brighter."
Mine certainly was.
"Sophia Hess, who was Tirissëo, had a strength that beggared imagination," Olórin murmured. "She overcame struggles and terrors the like of which would have broken even great Men. She was undaunted by things which would have set even other heroes weeping. When she was afraid, she turned that fear into righteous wrath. When her rage led her astray, she allowed herself to be guided by love. She committed errors, but never committed one twice. She is survived by her mother, brother, sister, teammates, and love. Many of these wished to speak." He stepped away and nodded to Carlos.
Carlos took a few short steps to the tomb and looked down as I had. He swallowed and looked at us, then looked back down at the casket. Though his words were addressed to us, he seemed to be speaking to the costume and artifacts in the tomb.
"I wasn't leader of Sophia's team for long," he said quietly. "But during that time I saw the most incredible transformation. When Sophia came to us, she was angry all the time. She lashed out. If she wasn't in a fight, she wanted to start one. Even at the time, when I didn't much like her, I had to respect her courage.
"And then someone else joined us." His eyes darted up to meet mine, then dropped again just as quickly. "Someone Sophia had once hurt. That person forgave her, and that made all the difference. It didn't happen overnight, but Sophia changed. Her anger sharpened—instead of being angry at the whole world and everyone in it, she turned her rage on people who hurt those she cared about. She was still a terror in a fight, but she wasn't constantly looking for a brawl. She was still maybe the bravest of us, but that bravery was tempered by trust in her teammates, and a love of life that she'd been missing before.
"And even when all of us went astray, even at our darkest moments, she never gave up on what she'd learned. She stayed true to the person she wanted to be and challenged us to be the people she knew we could be. It's taken a couple months for it to sink in just how incredible what she did for us was. She walked away from everything she knew, every comfort she was used to, because it was the right thing to do." He took a deep breath. His hand rested on the side of the casket, shaking slightly. "I hope I can live up to your example, Sophia," he whispered.
Next to speak was Sophia's mother. She staggered to the tomb, shuddering. She opened her mouth to speak three times, tears still streaming down her face, and each time cut off with a sob. Finally, staring down at her daughter's empty costume, she choked out two words. "I'm sorry."
Then it was my turn. I stepped forward again and touched the mask with my left hand. The One Ring glittered on my ring finger, and I knew I would never wear another Ring there, nor would I wear this Ring for another person.
I swallowed, took a deep breath, and began to sing. The song came to me from somewhere deep, like something half-remembered from ancient days, whispered on a distant wind.
I bowed my head, tears streaming down my face, and fell silent. For a moment, the breeze and the faint weeping behind me was all I could hear.
Then Olórin touched my shoulder. "Let us lay her to rest," he said. I nodded and went to help. Together we lifted up the heavy marble slab and laid it in place over the tomb. Olórin Sang a soft melody, and the stone casket melded together until it looked like one block of marble, with no visible seam where the lid met the rest of the grave.
Upon the stone were engraved words in three languages: English, Quenya, and Valarin. It was possibly one of the first times in history that Valarin had been written in any form, for the original language was an entirely verbal one. I had been forced to coopt another writing system, just as I once had for the Black Speech long ago. Tengwar were not enough, as some of the sounds of the Ainur's original tongue had no analogue in the languages of Elves. In the end, I had Romanized the tongue, and used a slightly modified Latin alphabet for the transcription.
Sophia's mother did not approach me after the funeral, but her brother did. His face was set as he extended a hand. "Mairë," he said. "Or do you prefer Taylor?"
"Taylor when it's personal," I said, giving his hand a shake. "Terry, right?"
He nodded. For a moment he seemed unsure of himself, though he had seemed like he had a plan for what to say when he approached. Then he gathered himself. "I wanted to thank you," he said.
"Please don't," I said.
He blinked.
"Sophia and I hurt each other terribly," I said, "then helped each other grow past that. Yes, I helped her climb out of the pit of rage and despair she was festering in when we first met. But when I did it, it was because she would be useful to me. She was the one who taught me to love someone other than myself, to care about people beyond their utility to me. I owe her everything I am today."
He swallowed. "I know a little of that," he said. "I just meant… I just wanted to thank you for being there for her."
"I wasn't always."
"Yeah, well…" he glanced over his shoulder at his mother. "We weren't ever."
I closed my eyes. I didn't have the energy for a proper grimace. "Do you want my forgiveness, Terry Hess?" I asked tiredly.
"I… no?"
"Good, because it wouldn't mean anything if I gave it to you, and I wouldn't anyway." I met his eyes. "Yes, you wronged her. Your mother wronged her. The less said about Steven the better. I don't know if any of you ever apologized to her while she was alive, and it's too late now. My forgiveness means nothing. You want to know what would mean something?"
His lips trembled. "What?"
"Even when she had all but given up on the rest of you," I said, "Sophia never left, because she wanted above all to protect her little sister. In her absence, you can take on that load. Look after little Angela. Make sure she knows that her sister was—is—a hero, and that she loved her with the ferocity of a lioness. If Sophia would have wanted anything from you, it would be that."
He took a shuddering breath. "I can do that," he said.
"Good." I nodded at him and then turned and took a step away. Then I met Olórin's eyes from across the cemetery. I froze. Then, jerkily, I turned back to face Terry.
"I'm sorry," I said. "That was unkind."
"Nothing I don't deserve," Terry said grimly.
"That isn't for me to decide," I said. "Regardless of what you deserve, you also deserve to mourn your sister. I can't defend her now, and I shouldn't be lashing out against other people who cared about her." I took a deep breath. "I don't forgive you, but I will eventually. And one day, Terry Hess, I hope you can forgive yourself."
His eyes closed against his tears. He gave me a jerky nod, then turned and stalked away.
I let out a heavy sigh. Then I turned away again. Olórin was no longer looking at me, but he was smiling.
I heard footsteps approaching as someone came and stood to my left, looking down at the casket. "Still can't believe she's gone," Emma murmured by my arm.
I nodded mutely.
Emma took my hand and squeezed it. "You'll be okay," she said.
"So will you," I replied, looking down at her.
A slow smile spread across her face. "I know," she said.
-x-x-x-
There was no body to bury, but that did not stop us from having a funeral.
Leviathan helped us find those parts of Sophia's costume that had been washed away by the surf. I brought them back to Brockton Bay, where I built a small marble mausoleum, like a stone casket laying among the grasses of the graveyard. The cemetery was outside the city, on a hill to the south. In the distance I could see the ocean behind the white tomb, waves gently lapping against the shore.
The sun was bright today, without a cloud in the sky. I tried not to resent that.
There weren't many people assembled here. The Ring-Bearers and a few close friends and family, no more. We had all been catapulted into celebrity by the battle, but Dragon and the PRT's Image department had managed to control things enough to give us this privacy.
The tomb lay open, its engraved stone lid resting on its side. Within the casket I laid what remained of Sophia's costume, which had been repaired to close the hole in the torso. Upon the chest I laid Amauril, and in the palm of the left glove I placed Cenya, still glittering faintly in the sunlight. Raumo and Alca I set beside the hips, near where they would have been sheathed.
I swallowed as I looked down at the empty mask. I had expected it to be harder, to be here without even a body to bury, but it somehow wasn't. I didn't have to look down at her and see her lying there lifeless. Even so, I swallowed painfully as I gazed into the empty eyeholes of her mask.
I stepped away. Colin rested his hand on my shoulder, squeezing tightly. I could hear the effort it took him to keep his breathing steady as he struggled to remain stoic. A few paces to my left, Sophia's mother was weeping openly. Her brother's jaw was clenched, eyes damp and unblinking. Even little Angela was staring at the grave, a look of bewilderment on her tiny face. Steven had not been invited. I gathered that he and Sophia's mother were no longer living together. It remained to be seen where that would lead.
To my right, the other former Brockton Bay Wards were gathered in a tight group. Dennis shook slightly in Crystal's arms. Tears were tracking down Dean and Chris' cheeks, but Sam and Missy's eyes were dry, if red. Carlos stood like a statue, tension in every line of his body. He seemed to feel my gaze and turned to me, dark eyes glistening, but no tears fell.
I looked away, turning back to the tomb. I looked past it at Olórin, whose eyes were sad as he studied me. I nodded once, tightly.
He nodded back and began to speak. "Today," he said, in his old, thoughtful voice, "we remember a hero."
I let his words wash over me as he continued. Dragon had asked if I wanted to officiate the funeral. So had Colin. So had Sophia's own mother. I had told all of them no. I wanted to mourn. In this one thing, I wasn't any different from anyone else. I wasn't a Maia, an agent of the Song, today.
Today, I was just a girl who had lost the one she loved.
"I never knew Sophia Hess," Olórin was saying. "But I feel the effects of her life every day. I am more grateful to her than I can say. She was not perfect, but by her example was the life of everyone who cared for her made brighter."
Mine certainly was.
"Sophia Hess, who was Tirissëo, had a strength that beggared imagination," Olórin murmured. "She overcame struggles and terrors the like of which would have broken even great Men. She was undaunted by things which would have set even other heroes weeping. When she was afraid, she turned that fear into righteous wrath. When her rage led her astray, she allowed herself to be guided by love. She committed errors, but never committed one twice. She is survived by her mother, brother, sister, teammates, and love. Many of these wished to speak." He stepped away and nodded to Carlos.
Carlos took a few short steps to the tomb and looked down as I had. He swallowed and looked at us, then looked back down at the casket. Though his words were addressed to us, he seemed to be speaking to the costume and artifacts in the tomb.
"I wasn't leader of Sophia's team for long," he said quietly. "But during that time I saw the most incredible transformation. When Sophia came to us, she was angry all the time. She lashed out. If she wasn't in a fight, she wanted to start one. Even at the time, when I didn't much like her, I had to respect her courage.
"And then someone else joined us." His eyes darted up to meet mine, then dropped again just as quickly. "Someone Sophia had once hurt. That person forgave her, and that made all the difference. It didn't happen overnight, but Sophia changed. Her anger sharpened—instead of being angry at the whole world and everyone in it, she turned her rage on people who hurt those she cared about. She was still a terror in a fight, but she wasn't constantly looking for a brawl. She was still maybe the bravest of us, but that bravery was tempered by trust in her teammates, and a love of life that she'd been missing before.
"And even when all of us went astray, even at our darkest moments, she never gave up on what she'd learned. She stayed true to the person she wanted to be and challenged us to be the people she knew we could be. It's taken a couple months for it to sink in just how incredible what she did for us was. She walked away from everything she knew, every comfort she was used to, because it was the right thing to do." He took a deep breath. His hand rested on the side of the casket, shaking slightly. "I hope I can live up to your example, Sophia," he whispered.
Next to speak was Sophia's mother. She staggered to the tomb, shuddering. She opened her mouth to speak three times, tears still streaming down her face, and each time cut off with a sob. Finally, staring down at her daughter's empty costume, she choked out two words. "I'm sorry."
Then it was my turn. I stepped forward again and touched the mask with my left hand. The One Ring glittered on my ring finger, and I knew I would never wear another Ring there, nor would I wear this Ring for another person.
I swallowed, took a deep breath, and began to sing. The song came to me from somewhere deep, like something half-remembered from ancient days, whispered on a distant wind.
"From the distant glades where the sky grows cold and bright by night or day
The North Wind comes riding over the shoreline spray.
'What news from the North, O mighty wind, do you bring to me tonight?
Have you seen Sophia the Strong by moon or by starlight?'
'I heard her voice in distant lands where snow falls late in spring.
I saw her stand by friends or lonely facing awful things.
But I saw not what came of her when she went West afar,
Ask of the West Wind what became of your beloved star.'
O Sophia! In dead of night I looked to the distant snow,
But you came not from the snow-capped peaks where no Men go.
"From Atlantic waves the East Wind flies from the long shores and the deeps,
The wailing gulls, the crashing waves, it carries as it weeps.
'What news from the East, O weeping wind, do you bring to me at dawn?
Have you seen Sophia the Far? For she has long been gone.'
'I saw her bringing light to places distant, cold and stark.
I saw her standing tall against the lurkers in the dark.
But then she Westward went away and far beyond my sight.
Ask of the West Wind news of them who follow the waning light.'
O Sophia from the hither shore I watched the waters wide,
But you were not returned to me with the rising tide.
"From across the mountains and the plains and the vastness of the land,
The West Wind comes marching from white shores far and grand.
'What news from the West, O glorious wind, do you bring to me today?
Have you seen Sophia the Bold? For she is long away.'
'At the Western Shore I heard her as she faced land, sea, and sky.
I saw her standing tall as Silence struck her down to die.
She passed then to the Utter West to be honored for all days.
Let Men and Elves and Ainur wise hold her in highest praise!'
O Sophia! With broken heart I ever Westward gaze,
Remembering that you will return upon the end of days!"
The North Wind comes riding over the shoreline spray.
'What news from the North, O mighty wind, do you bring to me tonight?
Have you seen Sophia the Strong by moon or by starlight?'
'I heard her voice in distant lands where snow falls late in spring.
I saw her stand by friends or lonely facing awful things.
But I saw not what came of her when she went West afar,
Ask of the West Wind what became of your beloved star.'
O Sophia! In dead of night I looked to the distant snow,
But you came not from the snow-capped peaks where no Men go.
"From Atlantic waves the East Wind flies from the long shores and the deeps,
The wailing gulls, the crashing waves, it carries as it weeps.
'What news from the East, O weeping wind, do you bring to me at dawn?
Have you seen Sophia the Far? For she has long been gone.'
'I saw her bringing light to places distant, cold and stark.
I saw her standing tall against the lurkers in the dark.
But then she Westward went away and far beyond my sight.
Ask of the West Wind news of them who follow the waning light.'
O Sophia from the hither shore I watched the waters wide,
But you were not returned to me with the rising tide.
"From across the mountains and the plains and the vastness of the land,
The West Wind comes marching from white shores far and grand.
'What news from the West, O glorious wind, do you bring to me today?
Have you seen Sophia the Bold? For she is long away.'
'At the Western Shore I heard her as she faced land, sea, and sky.
I saw her standing tall as Silence struck her down to die.
She passed then to the Utter West to be honored for all days.
Let Men and Elves and Ainur wise hold her in highest praise!'
O Sophia! With broken heart I ever Westward gaze,
Remembering that you will return upon the end of days!"
I bowed my head, tears streaming down my face, and fell silent. For a moment, the breeze and the faint weeping behind me was all I could hear.
Then Olórin touched my shoulder. "Let us lay her to rest," he said. I nodded and went to help. Together we lifted up the heavy marble slab and laid it in place over the tomb. Olórin Sang a soft melody, and the stone casket melded together until it looked like one block of marble, with no visible seam where the lid met the rest of the grave.
Upon the stone were engraved words in three languages: English, Quenya, and Valarin. It was possibly one of the first times in history that Valarin had been written in any form, for the original language was an entirely verbal one. I had been forced to coopt another writing system, just as I once had for the Black Speech long ago. Tengwar were not enough, as some of the sounds of the Ainur's original tongue had no analogue in the languages of Elves. In the end, I had Romanized the tongue, and used a slightly modified Latin alphabet for the transcription.
Here lies Sophia Hess
Beloved and Admired
Who lasted the Night
And brought the Dawn
Beloved and Admired
Who lasted the Night
And brought the Dawn
Sophia's mother did not approach me after the funeral, but her brother did. His face was set as he extended a hand. "Mairë," he said. "Or do you prefer Taylor?"
"Taylor when it's personal," I said, giving his hand a shake. "Terry, right?"
He nodded. For a moment he seemed unsure of himself, though he had seemed like he had a plan for what to say when he approached. Then he gathered himself. "I wanted to thank you," he said.
"Please don't," I said.
He blinked.
"Sophia and I hurt each other terribly," I said, "then helped each other grow past that. Yes, I helped her climb out of the pit of rage and despair she was festering in when we first met. But when I did it, it was because she would be useful to me. She was the one who taught me to love someone other than myself, to care about people beyond their utility to me. I owe her everything I am today."
He swallowed. "I know a little of that," he said. "I just meant… I just wanted to thank you for being there for her."
"I wasn't always."
"Yeah, well…" he glanced over his shoulder at his mother. "We weren't ever."
I closed my eyes. I didn't have the energy for a proper grimace. "Do you want my forgiveness, Terry Hess?" I asked tiredly.
"I… no?"
"Good, because it wouldn't mean anything if I gave it to you, and I wouldn't anyway." I met his eyes. "Yes, you wronged her. Your mother wronged her. The less said about Steven the better. I don't know if any of you ever apologized to her while she was alive, and it's too late now. My forgiveness means nothing. You want to know what would mean something?"
His lips trembled. "What?"
"Even when she had all but given up on the rest of you," I said, "Sophia never left, because she wanted above all to protect her little sister. In her absence, you can take on that load. Look after little Angela. Make sure she knows that her sister was—is—a hero, and that she loved her with the ferocity of a lioness. If Sophia would have wanted anything from you, it would be that."
He took a shuddering breath. "I can do that," he said.
"Good." I nodded at him and then turned and took a step away. Then I met Olórin's eyes from across the cemetery. I froze. Then, jerkily, I turned back to face Terry.
"I'm sorry," I said. "That was unkind."
"Nothing I don't deserve," Terry said grimly.
"That isn't for me to decide," I said. "Regardless of what you deserve, you also deserve to mourn your sister. I can't defend her now, and I shouldn't be lashing out against other people who cared about her." I took a deep breath. "I don't forgive you, but I will eventually. And one day, Terry Hess, I hope you can forgive yourself."
His eyes closed against his tears. He gave me a jerky nod, then turned and stalked away.
I let out a heavy sigh. Then I turned away again. Olórin was no longer looking at me, but he was smiling.
I heard footsteps approaching as someone came and stood to my left, looking down at the casket. "Still can't believe she's gone," Emma murmured by my arm.
I nodded mutely.
Emma took my hand and squeezed it. "You'll be okay," she said.
"So will you," I replied, looking down at her.
A slow smile spread across her face. "I know," she said.
The Shallow
Shallow, Yet Deep
- Location
- Your Universe
- Pronouns
- She/They
I just... Loved this poem so much.
Thank you for this epilogue, thank you for this story, thanks for writing that poem. Just... Thanks.
Thank you for this epilogue, thank you for this story, thanks for writing that poem. Just... Thanks.
