Epilogue 1: The Umbering

Umber, shadow. But still small. A need to grow. A need for safety away from the hated lights. It had sped quickly away from the portal that had brought it to this world.

It had heard something. A call.

That is why it had come here. Why the Umber had left its home, in the darkness and silence. In the place others had called hell, but Umber had known as peace, quiet, and cool. A place Umber could grow, slowly without conflict. A place to call its own.

But here, in the starkness of this strange place it had been called too Umber felt drive. Motivation to grow. Something so alien to it, so strange.

It had been from the deep places, far away from light. Hidden under layers of darkness and shadow, layers of creation. Layers of protection far away from the hated enemy. And now here Umber found itself. On a world of . . . mixed heritage.

Shadows grew starkly, quickly, and with great power where there was light. But at a cost. At the cost of enduring the presence of the hated enemy.

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But here, in its flight from the sun and from the portal it had traveled through, here in this place of high places, howling wind, and frozen water it found . . . something. A creature buried under mountains of rock, stone, ice, and wind deep in the belly of the world. A creature made of shadow and flame.

The fire burned Umber. But not as badly as it had expected. Fire flickered and danced, as did the shadows it cast. Fire, in some ways Umber found, was like a father to shadows in this alien realm.

“Welcome, little Umberling,” the creature of fire and shadow said. Its voice the cracking of flickering flame, and the stillness of the dark. “Welcome cousin. I smell the petrified forest on you, the silent starless road, and the sunless hills. That is a place I have only heard in rumor and echo.”

This . . . cousin of Umber. Of Umberling, shadow growing, was welcoming. Inviting. Umberling showed the shadow dancer. Images from its mind. Memories of its life in the purest darkness that had ever existed. Scenes from the moonless moss covered fields, the starless road, and the silent forest of the petrified dead shade givers that Umberling had once sheltered under when the harsh winds howled, and the stalkers prowled the moss fields.

“Thank you little cousin. Your home feels . . . so different from my own. I have learned from you. Now, let me show you how to live in this world.”

The shadow dancer picked up Umberling, and brought it further down into the earth. Deep and dark was where it went, warm and hot. The world became a world of stark juxtaposition. Harsh light from burning flowing rock, untouched eternal darkness, and the flickering flames where the two did meet.

“Here is my home, little shadow. Drink deep of the dancing shadows and fire. Eat the earth and lava, let yourself grow. Become as my ancestors were. Become . . . primogenitor.”

And so Umbering did. And the world was unaware of the danger that had grown in its heart. Neither the Gods that protected it, nor the mortals that lived in it, nor the spirits that watched it shift and change. And even the gods were left unaware.