The Duskknife

Once more, we traveled to the Holy Mountain. We didn’t bother stopping in Daletopia to say our goodbyes. I couldn’t take another series of rants from Ser Erik and Father Alton. Instead, we took the tunnel into the caldera in silence, and emerged onto the other side in the dead of night.

It had been two weeks since we’d left Imalor in Carcinex. Not that Atlas had missed him, but the mood otherwise was solemn. Lynessa felt awful about her decision, but had resolved to see it through. I couldn’t imagine what it must be like to accept that the war she’d been fighting all of her life was pointless.

We made it to the Temple of the Golden Sun, and there requested an audience with Divine Speaker Galemar. The new Divine Speaker was young for the role, being only in his mid-30s. He wore plain white robes and kept his square face neatly shaven. Unlike the prior Divine Speaker, he wore no jewelry nor owned any gold.

“Legendary Hero,” He said, smiling as he answered his door. It was late, yet the Divine Speaker seemed not to be tired, his face fresh and eyes bright.

“We’re sorry to disturb you at so late an hour.” Lynessa said.

“Oh, think nothing of it.” Galemar responded, “Of late, I have been praying by night. I find the solitude far more spiritually resonant.”

“Spiritually resonant, huh?” Atlas snorted, “Get a load of this guy.”

“We’ve uncovered a powerful artifact, and were hoping you might be able to help us utilize it.” I said. I produced the Duskknife and unwrapped it from a piece of cloth.

“This,” he gasped, “Is an item of exceptional antiquity. Obsidian has not been used in this manner for a thousand years at the least. It has been preserved to a remarkable degree. And the symbols along its hilt… I’ve seen nothing like them before.”

“I thought not. This is the Duskknife.” Lynessa said, “Plucked fresh from the lair of Galthranor the Grand.”

“The Duskknife?” Galemar asked, eyes growing wide, “I’m not certain I could wield its power.”

“Well, you’re kind of our only option.” I said, “Lynessa is not powerful enough to access its power, and I am apparently without magic entirely. We need your help to go home.”

Galemar bowed. “I am honoured to be the one to aid you. It was your initiative that reforged my order, it would be wrong to refuse you.” He looked down at the blade in his hand. “I will do my best to wield it justly. Please, step inside. I’m sure you’re eager to get home.”

We entered his chambers, a relatively spacious room barren of furnishings. Galemar sat crosslegged in the middle. He held the dagger aloft, staring into its polished blade.

“It is a beautiful implement.” Galemar said, “But I’m uncertain how exactly to access its power.”

“Galthranor used it to sever space itself.” Lynessa suggested, “Perhaps if you tried to cut open the air, you might be able to form an entrance.”

Galemar lifted the Duskknife and pointed it into the air. He carved a slow circle. The blade swept silently through empty air. For three quarters of the circle, nothing happened, but towards the end, Galemar’s angle sharpened, and a thin, wavering line of orange energy appeared in the space behind the dagger’s tip.

A shock of orange energy snapped out of the line in space and Galemar recoiled his hand. The Duskknife clattered to the floor. The orange line in the air wobbled, then vanished, leaving behind the faint smell of charred sulfur.

“Are you alright?” I asked.

Galemar held up a hand. Sweat dotted his forehead.

“I’m quite alright.” he said, “Doubtless, I require a bit more practice.”

“Don’t hurt yourself.” Lynessa said.

“Oh, no.” Galemar responded, “I’m not hurt. In fact, I’m very excited to continue to explore this power.” His eyes were bright, despite the clear physical exertion the Duskknife’s power had taken upon his body. “For a moment, I grasped its power. It was… immaculate.”

“So it is capable of sending us home?” I asked.

“Yes.” Galemar chuckled, “That, and so, so much more. With a weapon such as this, the whole universe could be nothing but wet clay in its wielder’s hands.”

“And Galthranor used it for collecting cars.” Atlas snorted.

“I really don’t care what it can do,” I said, “as long as it gets us home, you can keep the damn thing.”

“Oh, I intend to.” Galemar said. A broad grin spread over his face as he once more pierced the air with its tip. This time, he made a quick slash, and space tore open, peeling backwards like a sheet that had been stretched taught and cut. Orange light spilled out from the rift in space, accompanied by the almost overwhelming stench of sulfur.

“It didn’t smell like that when Glathranor used the knife.” I said, “Perhaps you’re using it incorrectly.”

Galemar did not answer, he merely stared into the orange abyss. I wondered what he saw there. His eyes were moving back and forth rapidly, as if they struggled to grasp entirely what was transpiring. He appeared almost transfixed.

“Hey, Galemar.” I said, “What’s going on man?”

Galemar chuckled. “I see it.” He said. “I see it now. I see it.”

“You see what?” I asked nervously.

“Everything.” He responded, “Everything and all. It’s there, right before my fingertips.”

“That’s great man,” I said, “You think you can control it? Because I really need to get home before this demon war kicks off again.”

“War?” Galemar said, “With this power, war will be a thing of the past.”

“That is awesome, but can you just send me home?” I was starting to get frustrated with the Divine Speaker. Before he’d seemed very helpful, but now he was starting to act like he wouldn’t. I made to grab the Duskknife away from him. Galemar snatched his hand back and bared his teeth at me.

“No!” He hissed, “The power is mine!”

“Atlas!” I shouted.

“Eating him now.” Atlas dashed in from the side. Galemar flipped away with inhuman agility. His eyes burned with the same vicious orange energy that had bled from the tears the Duskknife created.

Galemar slashed the Duskknife in a broad arc above his head, creating a massive, bleeding scar of temporal ruin that floated above our heads. The stench became unbearable and I covered my face with my shirt in an attempt to blot it out. Lynessa fired off a bolt of magical energy, but Galemar caught it in his bare hand. Then, he brought the captured energy to the blade of the Duskknife and pressed it into the jagged obsidian edge. The blade glowed a ghostly white.

Galemar leapt, landing on the ceiling as if it was a floor. He carved a runic symbol into the air and a deluge of acid rained down from its lines, smoking where it touched the floor. I stumbled backwards, wholly in shock as strange vine-like tentacles followed the acid, probing the room for signs of life.

“Get help!” I shouted to Lynessa. She scampered out of the room. I needed to distract Galemar, and to get the Duskknife away from him before he caused untold damage to the fabric of reality.

A vine lashed out at Atlas, who had been sneaking around for another attack on Galemar. The tiger leapt backwards and nimbly dodged a follow up attack. Droplets of acid flicked down from the tentacle, and Atlas and I screamed in unison as it burned our sides.

More and more tentacles spurted out of the rune, widening the gap in space. I could now see within the lines somewhat and what I saw transfixed me in place. It was like nothing I’d ever seen, and my eyes widened in conjunction with the widening of the portal as I glimpsed in clearer detail what lay beyond.

I can’t remember everything that I saw in that noxious and unnatural hole in space, nor do I want to, for what little I remember from what sights I gleaned still keeps me up at night to this day. It comes back as flashes in my nightmares, and when I wake I frantically search the room for creeping yellow vines or bloodshot eyeballs where eyeballs ought not be. The experience has scarred me so completely that I dare not recount the worst of what I saw.

I screamed wordlessly at the sight of what lay beyond, and after what seemed to be an eternity I finally managed to tear my eyes away, the negative images of thrashing vines and impossible colors still seared across my consciousness. I leapt upward in a mad desperation and plucked the Duskknife from Galemar’s hand, grabbing the dagger by its blade. The Divine Speaker did not seem to notice, for he was far too transfixed with the tear in space and what lay beyond.

The door to the room burst open. Lynessa and no less than a dozen priests entered to see the vines twist and furl, and witness the last of Galemar vanish into the bleeding orange scar. The lines that floated in midair vanished, and for a long moment nobody spoke. We all had witnessed something the likes of which mortal minds had forgotten millennia before, and for good reason.

“Well that was a bust.” Atlas grumbled, breaking the silence. “So, who wants to try next?”