Stathis walked along the bare stone passage, trailing her fingers along the dry and crumbly stone. ‘So, to make sure I’ve understood this fully. Ancient world, peaceful, innocent etcetera. And then the demons appeared, which was due to the darkness. Which wasn’t a specific entity or person, but just generally crappy, and, well, dark, somehow birthed or created lots of gribbly monsters. The Light, which is an actual speaking god-like entity, blessed a load of people with powers and wings, and the war started. Only war the world had ever known, light against darkness, very mythic, shattered the world, or maybe reality, it’s hard to tell.’

Agon nodded, one hand rubbing his sword-hilt.

‘So, war for generations, whole world spent their time fighting, and the darkness keep encroaching, slowly, bit by bit. Unceasing hordes of demons, blah blah blah, they bound themselves to slowly devour all the energies of this place and so they could be reborn, then your greatest sages managed to discover another world. Seemed a good idea to leave the endless demon horde behind, find someplace new? Must’ve have sounded pretty good at the time. And then the demons seemed to get leadership, or you figured out who their leaders were. One that was in charge of the fighting, one that did the organisation, and one that did all the magic. They weren’t normal demons, but instead took the form of items and were used by the highest ranked demons, or worked in gestalt with them or something. And seemed to be able to possess humans and the other mortal races, so they couldn’t be grabbed and dumped somewhere that way.’

‘Yes, they bound to forms of utility and power, but also with the ability to siphon power from their surroundings and bind and ensnare those they touched. And then they corrupted several of our best leaders – Harrachia, Pelluin Bravesword, Larrathinar Harakin…’

Stathis tried to hurry him past his recollections, before he launched into another overly-lengthy story that didn’t actually tell her anything beyond that large battles had occurred on a frequent basis. ‘Right. And, when corrupted, they became more powerful and could project weapons and armour formed of shadows and stuff, as well as weird spells unlike anything anyone had ever seen. So everyone worked on making this place ready, a grand portal to the new world. Which was focused here, what you call the Wound.’

Although he couldn’t see, she pointed behind them, at the vast hulk of the building around the Wound. ‘Indeed. A hole through the vast reaches of the astral sea, to find a place of security. By then, the population was small enough that it was small enough to evacuate. We planned to move through and then sever the connection, to isolate the demons here, leave them mired amidst the death and destruction they had created.’

‘What about the Light? Would she not have been stranded here as well?’

‘She is beyond such things, although she has a manifestation here; she is not solely here, but above and in the wider dimensions.’

‘OK, that makes sense. At least from the little I know of gods. And then the final attack happened, big last stand here, holding the line, massed ranks of attackers, with them trying to break through?’

He nodded, his expression now mournful. ‘And we failed. They broke through, their most powerful warriors penetrating through our lines. Although we slew many, their own leaders were able to penetrate through to the portal, bearing their leaders. I myself witnessed the Blade, flashing with shadows and blood as it cut through our barriers. And so our greatest hope became our greatest defeat.’

‘Don’t do yourself down, you did pretty well. I guess they were damaged or injured, they didn’t do anything for long enough that all of this isn’t even myth or legend to me, it’s completely unknown. Then a few thousand years ago, the Black Triad popped up and destroyed the Elven empire. They got defeated, but couldn’t be destroyed, and got locked away. Anyway, so the demons here basically withered away, got summoned to my world or vanished into wherever demons go when not physically present somewhere? Other than the destruction of the Elven Empire, we’ve never seen endless hordes though.’ She squinted into the mist, where dim shapes danced, just on the edge of perception. It made it impossible to relax, as there was always the sensation of something close by, ready to attack, never quite materialising.

‘Yes, it seems that there are still mighty warriors in your world, willing to serve the light in deed, if not in name.’

‘Well, getting eaten by demons isn’t nice for anyone. I’m not sure where the Bell, Book and Blade went though – I think they were sealed away, but that probably hasn’t lasted, so they’ll be out and about somewhere. Do you know what they looked like?’

‘The Blade was of night-black metal, spiked and barbed, made to rend and hurt and tear those it struck. Although it could transform to suit its wielders and would consume the souls of those it killed. The bell was a sphere of crystal with a brass handle and clapper, and it could call demons to obey the wielder – I believe that the bulk of them were bound to that, rather than to the other two. And the Book was a great tome, pages filled with arcane lore, the most potent of spells, normally borne by a demon skilled in spell-casting. All bore runes of utmost power.’

‘Hey, could you read them? These powerful runes?’

‘They were perversions of the true script, the language of my people, the script imparted to us by the very Light herself. While the blasphemous script would assault the mind of the reader, I could read it, although I was never as skilled as some of my peers.’

Stathis turned to the statue of an angelic warrior, where the base was covered with runes of the Unreadable Tongue, writhing under her vision. ‘So what does this say? Uh, if you can feel it with your fingers or something? Because to me it’s unreadable, the symbols twist about and make my eyes hurt. I’d always been told they got burned out of reality somehow, so no-one could make any sense of it.’

He reached out and ran his fingers over the stone, mouthing the words before speaking. ‘This is in memorial to Shamill the Horn-slayer, who stood at the Fall of the Gate of Spears. The language was a gift to the mortal races from the Light herself, to help bridge the gaps between us.’

‘OK, try saying the longest word you know.’

He looked slightly taken aback and paused before speaking. His mouth moved through an impressively long sequence of syllables. ‘The shame of being discovered in a lie.’ His mouth kept moving, as a message communicated itself to Stathis’ mind, skipping her ears.

‘That’s why we can understand each other, at least. It must work like a translation spell, but over an entire world. Handy! And it’s been broken or stopped working or something in the interim. Because when I look at that, it makes my head hurt, the symbols keep moving and warping. We call it the Unreadable Script, and its only seen on really, really old artefacts. So I guess that means that anything with it on is probably from this world?’

Tears welled up in his eyes. ‘To not be able to read the script of the Light? Severed from communication with each other? Oh, what a sad and broken world you must live! Far diminished from the brilliant glories of the past!’

‘We get by. I mean, we can still learn languages and translation spells exist, so it’s just a little more work.’ She spun around, hand flashing to her sword as a shadow suddenly loomed then vanished. This place really did grate on the nerves! Agon didn’t seem to notice, either used to the vague threats on the edge of perception, or not noticing them in his blindness. Fragments of dust skittered in a momentary breeze, as a scent suddenly blossomed in the air; tea, vividly sharp, black and strong. Stathis shook her head to clear away the sensation. Had she been here so long she was starting to hallucinate? Although it wasn’t even possible to guess how long she had been here! After waiting by the Wound for what felt like days, nothing had happened, but her wounds still hadn’t healed, leaving her sore and battered. If she ever got out of this place, it would be a relief to change out of her armour, finally!

‘So you and a few other fighters stayed here to act as guards, trying to keep the remaining demons away from the portal, because at that point, anyone could just dive through and be on the other side? Out of interest, where specifically was the other side?’

‘A high and sacred place, clean and pure, in the mountains.’

‘Huh, I think I can guess where that might be. OK, then, after a while, you noticed that the portal was corrupted or broken, and couldn’t be used to physically transport people, instead only summon up a spirit-body sort of thing. Which explains some of the myths of angels, but as you could still be hurt, then you slowly faded away, because it takes forever to heal. And you’re sure that you’re the only one left, and that no-one travelled through a few decades ago to sleep with my mother?’

‘I am the last of my kin. I can take you to their graves should you desire. And I most assuredly would not use the Wound for such a… vulgar thing!’ He was even prissier than Janaxia could be, operating of some strange set of ideals.

‘OK. So how did the other things here get here? I guess some might be leftovers, but when I arrived there was Galondwyn, and I fought her in Redcastle before she stabbed herself with a magical sword. And there’s that weird gigantic metal wall thing as well.’

The mist above them parted for a moment, revealing a dull grey sky, lit only by a passive glow that didn’t seem to emanate from any particular point. ‘This world and yours are still linked in some fashion, so those skilled in the arcane arts might be able to transport entities here? While time stretches long, of late, at least as far as I can tell, there has been change. The Blade used to conjure up such barriers long ago, razor-edged things of metal, that would slice and rend those unfortunate enough to touch them.’ He looked up, appearing to contemplate. ‘As they are attuned to this world, then perhaps, the beings they devour and destroy are sent here? I have sensed many of these shadows, twisted and weak scatterings of self, although none have lasted more than a scant time.’

Stathis sighed. ‘Shit. So, back in my world, I found a magical sword. It was made of black metal and had been sealed up in a tomb for years, as far as I could tell. Had some demons protecting it, but we managed to deal with those. The sword possessed people holding it and made them attack anyone else. Galondwyn killed herself with it, and then her body vanished.’

‘It is possible. But can you not sense power within things? You should have perceived the wickedness of the thing, have sensed it as great darkness.’

‘Um, I was a little distracted at the time. And someone I work with projected an aura of her own that made it hard to pick up anything else. I just assumed it was cursed, but then demons started showing up. Although I think that was some cult summoning them? I don’t know what happened to the blade afterwards though, the last time I saw it was in that back-alley.’

‘You should have bound it in chains of sun-forged steel, wrought in the hottest of forges, and then sealed it away!’

‘Well, I thought it was just a cursed sword. Was going to get it cleaned up and then sell it. It didn’t really seem to be that powerful. Wait, actually, I think its power may have been drained. A friend of mine had a magical item that drained power, and I fed it the sword. It seemed pretty quiet and non-cursed after that.’

‘The Blade would not allow itself to be defeated so easily! No, it will have possessed whatever fool found it, and even now, be stealing souls to fuel itself and restore itself to the fullness of its power. But what power could consume such a thing? Your world sounds as though it has forgotten much of the true power of magic.’

‘Yeah, it was an old thing that did it.’ Stathis sighed. ‘My friend’s from an old magical family, so I’ve no idea what her book actually does. If she’s possessed though, it’s by something that’s not very aggressive. She mostly just wants to lounge around and eat fancy food, get drunk and get laid. I guess it’s probably a good thing some of the energy of the blade was drained off? Otherwise it would be more aggressive or something?’

A draught blew from above them, a slight disturbance in the air. Stathis glanced up to see a winged shape swooping down from the hazy sky, claws extended. As though summoned by the discussion, Galondwyn appeared, dropping down from above. Stathis’ sword flew from the sheath, just in time to block a stab from her tail. Agon’s blade parried a clawed arm.

‘Cursed children of light! I shall slay you, feast on your souls, and return to where I may devour as I wish!’ Her voice sounded thin and tired, her movements slower than before. Stathis could feel her scratches and injuries, but Galondwyn was showing wounds that hadn’t fully healed, ichor seeping out over her flesh. But she still hit damn hard, a slap from her tail almost tearing the sword from Stathis’ grip before she twisted and countered, blade slicing along the tail, skittering off bony plates without penetrating.

Despite his blindness, Agon ducked another attack, settling himself into a comfortable sword-stance, his hilt held in a two-handed grip, and using wide blows to try and keep a safe distance. This gave Stathis a chance to attack, her blade cutting through a leathery wing, the thin skin easy to slice through. Galondwyn hissed, before her tail slapped at Agon and pushed him back, letting Galondwyn focus on Stathis. Trying to ward off both her claws and her tail was a challenge, the metal of her armour protesting under the assault, but at least Galondwyn wasn’t trying to protect herself, and didn’t seem to have her regeneration here, wounds persisting rather than healing. Not that Galondwyn seemed to care, barely reacting when Stathis sliced a chunk from her shoulder, the flesh melting away into dark mist.

Pain stabbed into her own shoulder as Galondwyn grabbed hold, claws rending and shredding the armour, starting to crush the metal and her bones beneath. Stathis smacked her with the shield, catching her across the face and shoving her back. The tail flicked out at Agon again, catching him across the arm and shredding his loose robe, bleeding from the wound. Light trickled out, the wound sealing itself shut.

‘You will perish here! And then I shall feast on your souls.’

Despite her words, she was tiring, and unable to protect herself from both herself and Agon. More and more wounds appeared on her body, Agon’s sword enchanted enough to hurt her, as Stathis’ burnt with pale sunlight. Dark energy appeared around Galondwyn’s claws, her body panting with effort before she lunged, bearing Stathis to the ground. Claws ripped at her armour, peeling away the metal as Stathis tried to protect her face with her shield.

‘Accursed thing! Exiling me to this dead world!’

She gasped in pain as Agon stabbed her from behind, blade penetrating more deeply now, more of her body held together by dark mist, already starting to fade away. Stathis managed to twist away and wrench an arm free, angling an awkward slice across Galondwyn’s chest. A claw slashed across her forehead, the wound stinging and hot, but Galondwyn was clearly weakening. Another stab cut into her, and she tried to pull herself up, Stathis hooking a leg around hers and keeping her down as Agon continued to stab at her.

Finally, she succumbed, her body fading away entirely into mist, Stathis standing herself up and panting, checking her wounds – her armour was still intact enough to work and should hold together for a while, although she felt battered and rough.

She sheathed her sword then turned to Agon. ‘Any idea if she’s really dead, or reformed somewhere else? Demons have a tendency to come back, I find.’ She poked her foot at the remaining wisps of darkness, scattering them.

‘The Bell and Book altered the magic of this world. They thought it would make them unbeatable, but that is how we planned to defeat them, by sealing this world away! It sounds as though those that escaped to your world may escape such a fate, but any slain here will take a very long time to reform themselves. The magic here is, as I understand such things, scant sustenance.’

‘Good. I’ve defeated her twice, I’d prefer not to have to do it a third time! Even if she was a lot weaker. Anyway, where were we? Oh yes. So she killed herself with the Blade, and that transported herself here, you think? I guess when mortals are killed, they just get consumed by the Blade?’

‘I would suspect most of their power is consumed yes. The ghosts and wraiths of this place hang heavy, I suspect many to be the scattered shards of those destroyed by the Bell, Book or Blade.’

Stathis shivered. That would explain why the place always seemed so threatening! At least none of them seemed able to actually attack or do anything though.

‘Right. So all I need to do is figure out some way to actually transport myself through the pool physically rather than as a spirit, and then I can go home. I really need to try and get in touch with Hakara, she knows way more about this sort of thing.’ She looked around – this really was a dead world, bound beyond time, whatever ancient magic had been worked draining all life from the place. The thought that demons could slowly be regenerating somewhere, even the slowing effects in place not enough to entirely stop them, was not particularly comforting either. But she needed to get back home! At least it would be less dull there, and it looked as though Janaxia had managed to get herself into some kind of trouble.