Eved.

***

Mom.

Such a strange, almost vulgar term. A crude title, it was. A tactless name. One utterly devoid of respect or formality. Yet, within that word was a warmth- a divine spark that betrayed the very nature of the speaker. My son, Amun.

That title- that word, swam through the weave behind me to breach my focus like a Triton announcing its presence to a surface dweller at sea. Removing my thoughts from the task at hand with a persistence that matched the undead. Returning my focus to that task was a simple endeavor. As was the task itself. Given to me by both our god and mine; the Eternal and The Weaving Mistress. All I had to do was descend, transfer, ascend, and wait. But it was often those simple things that proved the most difficult to endure.

Even here, in the midst of my descent, I could hear their voices pursuing me through those ancient caverns.

"Dear.”

<>

Perhaps the ease of navigating the Darkworld was why I could hear it. The monotony of it all made for wandering thoughts, unlocking the backdoor to my mind to permitting a horde of thoughts and feelings I’ve not experienced for quite some time to run rampant in my head. Or perhaps they truly were calling for me through that darkness- their darkness.

Unwelcome though they were, those feelings acted like runes to my flesh. They empowered me as if I were descending into the Hells, granting me the strength to string along my past with the future I have chosen. Soon enough, I was there.

<> I heard the voice long before I saw the speaker. The songful voice of my kin was like poison to my mind and acupuncture to my heart. The thoughts and hopes and fears and aspirations were shut behind that mental door in an instant, slowing my heart to the same reasonable pace as my steps. And yet, something still lingered. For when I rounded the corner to see an object of my past and future pinning a darkened cloak in place, all I could think about was his reaction to the things I now witnessed. A male drow with a countenance not far off from his, groveling in the dirt like a worm.

<> The worm groveled. <>

<> That guttural scream of pain that followed bellowed like a tempest in the spacious caverns. Nevertheless, Yassra’s outburst was like a whisper of a song to the chorus of sobbing pleas and wet crunches echoing throughout the caverns.

<>

I held my gaze at Delan, receiving his punishment, in a vain attempt at shutting the back door before I answered the first being I brought into these realms. A true mirror of my past self, unlike Yassra. ‘How could one describe such an experience?’ I wondered, meeting Laele's gaze. My absence hadn’t been long. Comparable to around a year from a human’s perspective. In that short time, however, I’ve forsaken everything that was true to me. The crimson luster in their eyes was proof of that much. Yet I gained much more in exchange. Insight. Protection. Status. Hauntings.

‘How does one recount the horror of coming to fear something that once solaced them?’ I laughed to myself, despairing over the long-awaited answer until Yassra approached to grasp my hands in hers.

<>

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

<> Laele said after mimicking her actions.

<> Yassra turned to her, then pointed at the rift in front of me.

<> I began, then trailed off along with my gaze. First to Yassra, then to Delan. The similarity of their frames and countenance was sickening, and that sickening feeling only intensified as their counterpart burst through my mental door to release a wave of nostalgia into my mind. Memories of these three drow and their vastly different upbringings swirled with the paranoid and hopeful assumptions of how their fates and mine had been intertwined by the hands of the Demon Spider, the Weaving Mistress, the White Horn, and the Eternal Champion. Leaving me with only a few words with which to grasp.

<> I finally muttered. <>

<> Yassra tossed my arms away. <> She turned away, scoffing.

<> Laele gave an envy-less chuckle. <>

<> I took a deep breath, then settled my eyes over the two of them for a quick inspection. Both of them were clad in armor and weapons forged from the finest materials to be unearthed and processed in the Dark World. Yassra’s was excessively draped in webs and crimson accents, denoting her increased station. Something she would surely need. But I doubted even that would help her. <>

<> Yassra proudly declared. <>

<> I scoffed, turning to Laele. <>

<> Laele pulled away to stand beside the rift, laughing all the while.

With only a nod, I stepped towards the dragon's eye carved into space itself, and entered. In a stark juxtaposition to my previous transit, the concentration of energy instilled me with a sense of safety and hope that worked to refresh me before I arrived in the motherland. Youtera, the Realm of Fae.

With my feet once again standing on the solid, arcana-infused ground, I scanned the massive chamber I now found myself in and stood in awe at the largest conglomeration of elves to have been assembled since Telin’s intervention. Every type of Fae from drow to high elves stood by behind their leaders, armored and at the ready before the dais on which I appeared. The chatter and murmurs died down as the others made their way through the rift and settled at my sides.

To first breach the silence, I took a long, weary breath and smiled. ‘At last.’ Opening my eyes, I locked eyes with the leader of each group before declaring. <>

Though no words, cheers, jeers, or gasps could be heard, yet there was a sudden spike in the atmosphere’s ambiance. Armor and weapons readjusting and sharpening could be heard amongst the sounds of packaged meals being consumed and potions being downed. Elves of all kinds began shuffling silently behind their leaders. Eager to begin the tasks laid out for them so long ago.

<> said Imra Lichenwind, Arch Druid of the Wood Elves.

<> The high-elven archmage, Ungved Tahromor, nodded before chanting. <>

<> Pafir, the Frost Elf Cheiftess added.

<> Prime Matron Laele of House Za'Darmondiel then said.

Followed by Imra once more. <>

<> said Ungved in turn.

<> Pafir sighed.

<> Laele continued. Followed by me.

<>

One by one, the leaders turned to give final orders to their subordinates before sending them through. Naturally, that was to include Laele. And with her, Yassra, Delan, and the house I had forsaken so long ago; guided by the goddesses I was tasked with turning my back on. Therin left no want or need to witness their departure. Similarly, no one thing or another kept me from staying to watch the rift close behind them. Those were experiences that have long since been locked away in the depths of my memory. The last thing I needed was another entity knocking at the back door. So, I leaped forward through the caverns, basking in the potent weave and dank atmosphere as I dreamed of settling into the web of magic I wove for myself.

I was finally free. Yet, trapped all the same with those haunting thoughts. A damning voice that told me my beloved son was a monster.

More of a monster than the blood of Fiends and Fae made him.