like to see Evanwyl and the rest of the world as it is now, rather than the way it was thousands of years ago.” He shook his head. “But that wouldn’t be the right thing to do.”
“No,” agreed Kyri, still not quite letting him go. “Kaizatenzei does need them, and I think they need Kaizatenzei.”
“Oh yeah,” Poplock agreed. “We don’t want them away from the bright shininess and going back to being demons. They only changed their minds a little while ago. Let that set a bit, I think, kinda like pourstone. ’Course, I don’t know how long that shiny perfection’s going to last now that the Sun’s gone poof.”
Tobimar shrugged. “You’re probably right that it will fade in time,” he said, finally stepping away from Kyri after a quick kiss. “But I’d guess that’ll take quite a while, especially since the force that was causing all the corruption beneath was probably Sanamaveridion, and he’s gone .”
“I hope so,” Kyri said, looking out at the peaceful shining of stars above the city. “I’d like to think it will always be like this.”
“So do I,” Poplock said, but his tone was serious. “But that’s sure not gonna happen if we wait much longer.”
Tobimar nodded. It had been a wonderful, terrifying, and in some ways healing journey through Kaizatenzei. But now they knew that they had left the architect of the world’s disasters—of what in fact must be the next Chaoswar—behind them, and Viedraverion was surely not idle.
Time was running out.
Chapter 6
“They…they seem to be exactly as they were,” Bolthawk murmured, in a tone of mingled fear and awe.
It followed the false Justiciar’s gaze to where Mist Owl stood in conversation with the earlier Silver Eagle, Gareth Lamell, and Skyharrier. “Oh, indeed, they are exactly as they were.” It chuckled. “I suppose your surprise comes from your first reintroduction to your fallen comrades?”
Assured by its tone that this was not a dangerous subject, Bolthawk nodded. “They stank of the grave, their eyes were dull, they seemed graverisen, nothing more. But over the last week…”
“Yes, they have perked up quite a bit since then, haven’t they?” It gestured for Bolthawk to take a firmer grip on the damaged piece of Silver Eagle’s raiment which was currently on the creature’s workbench, and then began gently hammering on the metal; faint ripples of green and shadow flickered from the armor as the being worked on it, bringing the armor back together. Ahh, Spiritsmith, your work is supernal; a shame it had to be marred so. My repairs will be serviceable, but hardly up to your standard. Then again, you would rather they were not repaired at all than serving my purposes, so I suppose that’s as you’d prefer it.
“The fact is that for one such as myself, bringing the dead back fully takes a bit of time,” it said, continuing the discussion. “The body must be either repaired or in some cases rebuilt, the soul brought back, and the connection between the two must heal as the body… learns , I suppose is the best term, how to live again. By now, that process is quite complete.”
“You mean…they are not just wraiths or revenants?”
“They are as fully alive as they were before they met their deaths, yes. If I were somehow felled tomorrow, they would not collapse and turn to moldering corpses or anything of that nature. They are not imitations of their prior selves, Bolthawk. They are precisely who they appear to be…just with some rather unique experiences that you have been fortunate enough to avoid thus far.”
Bolthawk’s expression was a delicious mingling of awe and fear. “Never have I heard of anyone reviving the dead after so long a span of time, in the case of Gareth, many years indeed. Not even the gods.”
“It does, in truth, require some rather unique circumstances, I admit. But more than that you have no need to know.”
“Where is Thornfalcon, then? Surely you would have wanted
“No,” agreed Kyri, still not quite letting him go. “Kaizatenzei does need them, and I think they need Kaizatenzei.”
“Oh yeah,” Poplock agreed. “We don’t want them away from the bright shininess and going back to being demons. They only changed their minds a little while ago. Let that set a bit, I think, kinda like pourstone. ’Course, I don’t know how long that shiny perfection’s going to last now that the Sun’s gone poof.”
Tobimar shrugged. “You’re probably right that it will fade in time,” he said, finally stepping away from Kyri after a quick kiss. “But I’d guess that’ll take quite a while, especially since the force that was causing all the corruption beneath was probably Sanamaveridion, and he’s gone .”
“I hope so,” Kyri said, looking out at the peaceful shining of stars above the city. “I’d like to think it will always be like this.”
“So do I,” Poplock said, but his tone was serious. “But that’s sure not gonna happen if we wait much longer.”
Tobimar nodded. It had been a wonderful, terrifying, and in some ways healing journey through Kaizatenzei. But now they knew that they had left the architect of the world’s disasters—of what in fact must be the next Chaoswar—behind them, and Viedraverion was surely not idle.
Time was running out.
Chapter 6
“They…they seem to be exactly as they were,” Bolthawk murmured, in a tone of mingled fear and awe.
It followed the false Justiciar’s gaze to where Mist Owl stood in conversation with the earlier Silver Eagle, Gareth Lamell, and Skyharrier. “Oh, indeed, they are exactly as they were.” It chuckled. “I suppose your surprise comes from your first reintroduction to your fallen comrades?”
Assured by its tone that this was not a dangerous subject, Bolthawk nodded. “They stank of the grave, their eyes were dull, they seemed graverisen, nothing more. But over the last week…”
“Yes, they have perked up quite a bit since then, haven’t they?” It gestured for Bolthawk to take a firmer grip on the damaged piece of Silver Eagle’s raiment which was currently on the creature’s workbench, and then began gently hammering on the metal; faint ripples of green and shadow flickered from the armor as the being worked on it, bringing the armor back together. Ahh, Spiritsmith, your work is supernal; a shame it had to be marred so. My repairs will be serviceable, but hardly up to your standard. Then again, you would rather they were not repaired at all than serving my purposes, so I suppose that’s as you’d prefer it.
“The fact is that for one such as myself, bringing the dead back fully takes a bit of time,” it said, continuing the discussion. “The body must be either repaired or in some cases rebuilt, the soul brought back, and the connection between the two must heal as the body… learns , I suppose is the best term, how to live again. By now, that process is quite complete.”
“You mean…they are not just wraiths or revenants?”
“They are as fully alive as they were before they met their deaths, yes. If I were somehow felled tomorrow, they would not collapse and turn to moldering corpses or anything of that nature. They are not imitations of their prior selves, Bolthawk. They are precisely who they appear to be…just with some rather unique experiences that you have been fortunate enough to avoid thus far.”
Bolthawk’s expression was a delicious mingling of awe and fear. “Never have I heard of anyone reviving the dead after so long a span of time, in the case of Gareth, many years indeed. Not even the gods.”
“It does, in truth, require some rather unique circumstances, I admit. But more than that you have no need to know.”
“Where is Thornfalcon, then? Surely you would have wanted
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