Tenebroum was still in Constantinal, supervising the stitching together of a monstrosity in the proud, blacked-out cathedral that would eventually serve as the city-factory’s silent supervisor in its absence when the signal arrived in the form of a tortured scream for its ears only. For the first time, one of its probing armies had finally come under attack in a very real way.

The timing was a shame because it had been looking forward to the final touches of this particular project ever since it had devoured the soul of the small god that had sought to thwart the darkness. It had decided that rather than having dozens of different flesh crafters working at cross purposes, it would make more sense to have a single giant corpse-surgeon using dozens of minds and hundreds of limbs in a dance of pure, efficient madness to pass the constructs from one work station to the next.

In its dark mind, it was a work of pure beauty. Here, the ribs of the central core formed a shape that was reminiscent of a flying buttress as it arced toward the vaulted ceiling of the defiled place, and there, at its peak, was a crown of a hundred sightless eyes splayed out in every direction to observe the process. They even scattered out across the flesh that was being grafted to the ceiling to ensure that its latest creation would have a view of its work from every angle.

Unfortunately, the Lich was forced to tear its mind away from all of that as the alarm sounded in its mind as a scream of alert, as its general shattered one of the orbs that Tenebroum had given to it for this very purpose. It could not be everywhere at once, but it could make sure that its servants would be punished badly if they failed to alert it of an emergency.

It left the claustrophobic bounds of its body and soared through the night sky as a vast sheet of shadows. Once, it had traveled as an invisible spirit, but its power was too vast now. Now, it plotted out the stars when it moved, and animals sickened and died in its wake.

There had been attempts at knightly charges against some of the smaller tendrils of its army before, only to find that three ranks of armored zombies were only slightly softer than a stone wall. One intrepid lord had even done some real damage by soaking a field in pitch and then lighting it on fire. He had not been killed by zombies like so many of his neighbors. Instead, he was killed by flaming skeletons.

There had been no real setbacks, though. The only people who survived his armies were those who had done unspeakable things to the ones who loved and trusted them. That chorus of lamentations was growing nightly and was starting to become a noticeable source of essence in the stagnant pool that was otherwise full of the blood of its enemies.

But someone had apparently rallied a larger force. Large enough for the Paragon to decide it was an emergency worthy of its master's attention at least.

Tenebroum arrived half an hour later, but the battle was still underway. There, in a meadow in the midst of a forest, thousands of its zombies had been rooted in place by plant life and were working to free themselves even as giant, ferocious wildlife battered and mauled the outermost ranks.

It was not at all what the Lich expected. It had thought that a human kingdom might have finally gotten its act together or that some clever mages might have finally sprung some long-prepared trap. This seemed to be nature itself rising up against it, though, which meant that the gods were interfering with it once more.

At first, Tenebroum just lingered around the edge, fearing a trap. Its warriors were in no great danger, after all, so there was no harm. Some of its centipede Calvary had been smashed to uselessness, but most of the heavy foot soldiers were made out of materials too strong for any wildlife to shatter, no matter how big.

Indeed, the Lich looked at the packs of dire wolves that were nearly six feet tall at the shoulder with hunger more than fear. They would make more fantastic additions to its army once they had been properly slaughtered, and the Lich issued orders to the whole group to do minimal damage to such precious specimens before it made any attempt to free them.

Only then did it descend to the battlefield like a fog. The roots and vines began to shrivel as soon as its presence brushed against them, but it didn’t just brush; it grabbed hold and began to travel through them, seeking to find whoever it was on the other side of the connection. The forest was wide and deep, though, and the darkness quickly lost its way amidst the labyrinth.

Even if it couldn’t find the culprit, it could punish the battlefield, and it began to leach the vitality from every shrub and branch that those circuitous paths were routed through. This took more energy than it gave in the form of decay, but it was still worth it. The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

Within minutes, the bonds that had anchored the zombies in place and the fighting began in earnest. It was no longer a one-sided conflict with a frozen army, and the hot blood of the savage beasts quickly watered the dead plants that covered the ground.

At some unspoken signal, a volley of arrows was launched from the woods on either side of the conflict. The zombies that they hit came apart in a blaze of light like they’d been struck by holy light or something similar, but most of the arrows missed, harmlessly striking the ground throughout the bloody meadow.

Tenebroum surged in both directions at once, seeking to find out and slay these new enemies so that it could feast on their spirits and learn all that it needed to know about the threat they posed. It almost caught them, too. It glimpsed the lithe forms and the pointed ears of the forest folk as they fled with their bows, but as it gave chase, the darkness was surprised to find itself suddenly restrained.

For a moment, it wondered how that was possible. It had already stretched nearly a mile on either side of the ongoing battle, but it found that its vaporous form could stretch no farther. Then, it felt the tug of the arrows. They hadn’t missed it. They’d held it in place for whatever it was that its opponent had planned next.

The darkness grew wary. It had stumbled into a trap, but it hadn’t been intended for its army. It had been intended for their master. They were only bait.

No new opponents appeared, though, confusing it. The darkness that was Tenebroum was pinned to the ground here and now, but once its undead soldiers finished slaughtering the animals that beset it, they would quickly free it, rendering the whole thing moot. Shouldn’t time be of the essence, then, it wondered?

It scanned the battlefield and all approaches through the forest repeatedly, certain that it had missed something, but it was only when the moon began to brighten that it looked up.

The moon was a shield for the world and a weak replacement for the light of Siddrim’s extinguished sun. It was out almost every night now, if only because the world needed it more than ever. It had never bothered Tenebroum before now. It existed, as far as the darkness understood, to protect the world from the threats that waited in the dark void that surrounded the world in the same way that Siddrim protected the world from the evils contained within. At least, that’s what its library had come to believe, based upon the addition of a number of religious scholars to the choir of unwilling advisors.

Now, though, it was turning its pale rays upon its stricken form, and as the celestial body began to glow brighter and brighter, it began to smolder and smoke in its most exposed areas. The searing pain was far less of an annoyance than the feeling that it had been baited and outsmarted by some new god it hadn’t been prepared for.

Even if it let her burn away against it for the rest of its night, that wouldn’t have done much to injure it. After all, even a brightly glowing moon was shaded out by the forest, and most of its form took refuge in it. It was a pointless exercise that was more humiliating than it was dangerous.

Still, Tenebroum redirected many of its zombies to begin pulling up the arrows that rooted its shade in place seconds before the stars started to fall. It was not about to underestimate whatever it was that it faced any further, and it was fortunate that it did.

Even though every arrow cost it a minion, as the spells attached to them caused the crude zombies to ignite, it was worth it. As each pinprick was removed, the darkness found that it could move a little more freely. Only a handful of the hateful arrows remained by the time the first comet fell, setting the dying forest on fire, and it was able to move well clear of both the white-blue blast that was strong enough to fell ancient fir trees as well as the hot yellow flames that followed.

Then, it was free, and Tenebroum retreated from the area to observe the strange situation. Those forces that were free to do so moved forward, dispersing as they went in an attempt to limit further damage. In the end, it was only lowly zombies that were caught in the blast as fireball after fireball erupted, temporarily turning the night into day.

Some of Tenebroum’s minds had built a tiny observatory, and they had noticed wandering stars, but it had never occurred to it that those might be turned as weapons against it, and it vowed to better understand what might be lurking up there, out of reach in the heavens.

The moon had already begun to fade as she turned away from the world once more after that, but even before she did so, Tenebroum knew that it had won. It had made whatever nature goddess that worked with the Lunaris suffer mightily, and in time, it would figure out how to strike at the heart of both of those enemies.

Now, just like the elves it had only managed to glimpse, whatever divine beings were arrayed against the darkness had retreated before it. Even the fires caused by the falling stars had begun to gutter as the clouds that covered the fading moon let forth a little burst of rain. It was like the elements themselves were colluding against it, but Tenebroum was not surprised.

It was frustrating, but waiting until it knew more was certainly the wisest course of action. Once the danger was passed, and they were moving to assault the next town in the area, it would bring up the issue with its general to see if the tactical mind had any insights into what they should do to counter future attempts.

In the short term, the answer was clear enough. It would bring Krulm’venor to this place and burn the entire wood to ash until nothing remained. The moon might be out of reach for the moment, but this route would be important to its attempts to move armies further east, and it would be impossible to stage another ambush if all that was left was the ashes of what used to be verdant paradise.