Key of Stars

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

The Year of the Ageless One (1475 DR)

Nathlekh, Faerun

I still can’t believe it,” Japheth said.

“Believe what?” said Anusha.

“How in some ways, not much has changed,” he replied. “But in other ways, everything must be different.”

He waved one arm in a gesture meant to illustrate his point.

“Hmm. Really?” said Anusha. “I think the Shou remembered their dead in this fashion a lot longer than we’ve been gone.”

They stood in Nathlekh’s odd graveyard. With them were Taal, Yeva in a concealing cloak, Captain Thoster sporting his cleaned-up hat, and even the eladrin noble Erunyauve. They were surrounded by short markers resembling beehives. The markers were scattered in small clusters. In each grouping, smaller markers spiraled around the larger. More traditional tombstones poked up randomly, but those were the exception.

Japheth laughed. “No, not the city of the dead; Faerun!” he said. “The sky’s the same, the rise and fall of the land, mostly. The general shape of each city, I’m sure. But the particulars!”

“I know; I was teasing,” she replied.

“Everyone we knew must either be dead or changed so much we might not even recognize them,” he continued. “Seren, Behroun, all the librarians I knew in Candlekeep, tavern and shop keepers we used to see every day-everyone!”

The enormity of what Japheth was saying threatened to make his head spin. He closed his eyes, and thought back to their journey “through time.”

When the knights had winged back to Forever’s Edge, the few star spawn and aberrations they’d encountered in the void had been dazed and inactive, as if shocked by having their victory yanked from them so precipitously.

Everyone was relieved to find the Watchtowers waiting on the other side of the gulf. Xxiphu was nowhere to be seen.

They later learned that several decades had passed since they had first set out across the void. Xxiphu had reappeared about halfway through that span. The skeleton forces remaining behind along the towers panicked, but the aboleth city had only approached close enough to slip back through the aperture of its initial appearance, which hadn’t completely healed over. The millennia Xxiphu had spent below the Sea of Fallen Stars had given it an affinity for the world. When Malyanna had released her hold on it, the city had been pulled back to Faerun.

The Eldest, half petrified though it was, likely had something to do with that, Japheth reflected.

They and the surviving knights enjoyed a hero’s welcome. A revelry lasting three full days, as well as long rests in sumptuous quarters, went a long way toward renewing all their spirits. Anusha in particular was glad to shuck her dreamform and walk again in her own skin for the entire time they stayed with the eladrin.

She and Japheth had been given separate quarters. Of course, he hadn’t done more than look into those they showed him. When they were not attending the ongoing revelry, he and Anusha spent the majority of their private time in her suite.

Whatever darkness had lurked between them was forgotten. They celebrated their survival and each other.

But a shadow still lay on them. Raidon’s sacrifice was an omnipresent fact. Everyone felt the monk’s final request shouldn’t be put off long, especially given the time disparity that continued to widen the gap between Faerun and everyone remaining in Forever’s Edge. Though not as extreme as the differential past of the discontinuity, it still pushed the calendar forward in a way that made Japheth slightly giddy when he considered it overlong.

The Lady of the Moon herself led them back into the world. The Throne of Seeing had, upon their return, given up its claim on her. She would remain warden of the Spire of the Moon until such time as someone else groomed for the title took the seat.

An expedition set out from Forever’s Edge across the blasted heath, toward the glimmering horizon. The Lady of the Moon preceded them out of the darkness and into the light. She led them through a glimmering wood, which gradually lost its fey qualities to become “merely” a forest of the natural world called Gulthandor.

Erunyauve explained that many places had grown strong connections with Faerie since its return, especially Forest of Amtar in Dambrath, the Forest of Lethyr in the Great Dale, and several others the warlock didn’t remember. But one was Gulthandor on the Dragon Coast.

As the eladrin had obviously known, Nathlekh was visible from the eaves of Gulthandor Forest. Or rather “Nathlekh City,” as they had learned upon entering the architecturally striking metropolis. Since they’d been gone, the city had become the capitol of a Shou-dominated region called Nathlan.

They spent a tenday preparing to have Raidon interred. Thankfully, stories of xenophobia in the city must have been only tall tales. That, or in the decades since-

Somewhere beyond the gravesite, a city bell tolled.

“It is time,” said Erunyauve.

Japheth blinked and focused on the present.

“Let us lay my son to rest,” the eladrin continued.

They gathered close to a newly constructed hardened clay marker. A plaque upon it read “Raidon Kane. Beloved son, friend, and hero. He saved everyone.”

A smaller, much older marker was next to Raidon’s. It belonged to the monk’s long-dead adopted daughter.

“The door is closed,” the Lady of the Moon said. “All the Keys are destroyed. The Sovereignty will not launch a thousand more seeds like Xxiphu across Toril as the Far Realm’s vanguard. The aboleths sought to collapse the wall between creation and madness, but failed.

“Thanks to Raidon Kane.

“My son. I was with him for the first ten years of his life, and after that, I was with him in thought. I loved him as much as any mother adores her child. He was my legacy, and now I’ve survived him. But without his sacrifice, none of us would be here now. It was a necessary sacrifice. Still, my heart is broken. I go back to Forever’s Edge diminished, knowing Raidon is gone. Knowing I could have saved him, had I not given him the Key of Stars, and set him on his path.”

Erunyauve stopped speaking. Her cheeks glistened with tears.

Anusha knelt before the marker. “Good bye, Raidon,” she whispered. “I’m sorry.”

She traced Raidon’s name on the plaque, then rose and stepped back.

Japheth knew he should say something, but his throat was tight. He forced out, “Raidon conquered foes of every sort. Not just monsters, but ones he battled inside himself. In the end, he defeated them all. He found peace. Not many can claim that. He is an inspiration. I’ll never forget him.”

He wanted to say more, but shook his head and stepped back instead.

Anusha took his hand.

Taal produced Angul.

Like Raidon, the blade had fallen silent when the Key had turned. Its fires were permanently doused.

“I saw a tiny light rise from where Raidon fell,” Taal said. “I believe that spark was the spirit of a hero that wouldn’t be denied a fit reward for his labors. We were told that those who died past the discontinuity are gone for good. But not Raidon! Like Japheth, Raidon inspired me. I’ll always remember what he did.”

The man stepped forward and held out the blade. Erunyauve uttered a chant, and golden sigils appeared around her head. She touched Angul’s tip, and the glowing runes streamed from her to the sword. Taal raised Angul high, then drove it into the marker stone. A reverberation like a cathedral bell rang out across the city.

“Angul will serve as a remembrance, forever,” Erunyauve said.

“Well done,” said Thoster. The captain doffed his hat and stared at the earth.

They stood there for a long time then, wrapped in quiet, regarding the monument.

The Nathlekh City bell tolled again. Time didn’t care about sorrow, reflected Japheth. It just ran on and on, grinding out lives and dreams as it rushed ceaselessly forward.

“I’ve lingered long enough in Faerun,” Erunyauve said. “I must return to the Watch, and discover the new shape of things along the void.”

“But you’re giving up your title,” said Anusha. “You don’t have to go back right away. Stay with us awhile and see what you helped save.”

The eladrin smiled. “The wardenship of the Spire of the Moon may soon pass from me, true,” she said. “But I’ve spent too many years dedicated to keeping the border safe to leave it for long, until I’m assured my successor is chosen and has things in order. However, regardless of my position there, know that any of you will be welcome if you venture again to Forever’s Edge.”

“I’d like that, to see you again,” Anusha said.

Taal approached Erunyauve. “I’d like to return with you now, if you’ll have me back,” he said. “I have amends to make along the watchtowers.”

The eladrin nodded. “I’m glad to hear it, Taal,” she replied. “The Watch could use your help, to put right the ill effects Malyanna’s slow betrayal wrought over the centuries.”

“Thank you,” Taal said.

Thoster said, “I should take my leave too. I need to procure another ship.”

“I’d think you’d had enough of ships,” Japheth said.

“The sea’s in my blood, warlock!” Thoster replied. “And I ain’t quite ready to give up my captain’s title. I’ve gotten used to it.”

“It suits you,” Anusha said.

“Westgate is close,” said Japheth. “You could find yourself a ship there in no time.”

“Exactly what I was thinking,” replied the captain. “And from the sound of things, Xxiphu’s been hanging over the Sea of Fallen Stars for more than fifty years; to most, it’s always been floating up there. I hear it hasn’t been too much of a threat, at least lately. But all of us know the horrors that crawl inside that hollow seed.”

“So what?” Japheth said.

“Well, it bears watching, is all,” Thoster said. “By someone who has dealt with the likes of those aboleths before. Once I find a ship to my liking, and a crew, and a steady income stream-”

“From piracy?” said Yeva.

“I’ve taken ownership of the occasional Amnian merchantman’s cargo, true enough,” said the captain. “And I don’t regret it. However, we’ve skipped ahead decades, and things are different. From what I’ve been able to gather, trade along the Inner Sea is good. It ain’t anywhere near where it was before, but it’s a damn sight better than what I was dealing with back in the 1390s. I think I’ll give honest shipping a go. Besides, with my advantages, I figure I’ll earn a king’s bounty in short order.”

“Could you use a first mate?” Yeva asked.

Thoster’s smile slipped. “Everyone I promoted to that position of late has turned up dead,” he said. “It might not be a healthy post to accept.”

“I’m made of sterner stuff than most, remember,” said Yeva. “Nor can I drown if I fall overboard. Though I might rust.”

The captain’s grin returned, and he clapped her on the shoulder. He winced at the impact, but said, “How could I forget? I would be honored, my lady, to have someone as accomplished and as, um, solid as you to help me out.”

Eventually only Japheth and Anusha remained at the gravesite. Japheth watched the sun wester. The orb struck shimmering highlights off the distant Lake of the Long Arm.

Anusha nudged him. “You all right?” she asked.

“Sure,” he said. “It’s just we’ve been caught up in this thing for so long. I don’t really know what’s next. Do you want to back to New Sarshell? I can try to work out a shortcut with my cloak and Neifion’s castle as a stopover.”

“Hmm. Things have probably changed beyond recognition. Marhana Manor will no longer be mine to claim. On the other hand, I hear Behroun isn’t dead.”

“What? That weasel half brother of yours would have to be over a hundred years old!”

Behroun was the author of many of the ills that had befallen Japheth. The merchant had manipulated him by threatening to destroy his pact stone, and the mere thought of the man’s smirking face made his blood boil.

“Knowing him, he’s used foul magic to extend his life,” Anusha said.

Japheth shook his head. “I wouldn’t mind paying him a visit,” he replied. “A last visit.”

“He does have much to answer for. But I don’t think I’m up for confronting him. For us, only days have passed. For Behroun, eighty years have gone by.”

“Ah yes,” Japheth said, sighing. “I keep forgetting what that actually means.”

Whatever the man was up to, he wasn’t the same person who’d blackmailed Japheth. He might have reformed. Or have become irredeemably evil. Either way, he probably hadn’t given the warlock and his missing half sister even a passing thought in more than half a century.

“Maybe you’re right,” he said. “At the very least, I do have something to thank him for. Without his grimy schemes, I’d never have met you.”

She smiled. “See? There you go,” she said. “Everyone has something to offer.”

They watched the horizon take a bite out of the sun. Dust in the air painted the sky iridescent orange.

“I would like to return to Impiltur eventually,” she said. “But not immediately. After so much time, it’ll be different. I’d rather go somewhere completely new. Someplace I don’t have any expectations. We could go anywhere!”

It still made him almost giddy when she used the word “we.”

He gazed at her. The slanting rays of fading day made her angelic. She was everything to him, bright and vital, and filled with eagerness for life. Just being near her made him glad. He was beginning to believe she felt the same about him.

“What’re you thinking?” Anusha asked.

“Oh, that you’re wonderful,” he said. “And about the future. Can we make our way in a world that’s forgotten us?”

“Let’s find out, Japheth,” she replied. “Together.”