The flight to Thrain II was considerably quieter this time around, and few of the passengers shared a word for the duration of the trip. Back on the Kin's mothership, few had spoken of the previous night's events except in brief whispers. None could quite explain what had happened, nor what that outcome would be. All they could do was hold their breaths and wait anxiously for the Grimnyr to return.
As they descended through the abandoned planet's atmosphere, there was considerably less turbulence than before. They occasionally passed through currents of wind and rarely heard thunder faintly in the distance, but the clouds seemed to be considerably less thick than when they had first journeyed down here. The air within the shuttle was tense, so Dóri refrained from speaking these observations aloud. Every Kin knew there were times when one could speak openly, and times when one should only speak when spoken to.
"Brôkhyr Dóri, bring us to the main entrance." Grimnyr Durvald said.
"Are… are you sure, Lord Grimnyr? When we came last, we took a side entrance…" Dóri said.
"I am sure." The Grimnyr said.
Dóri maneuvered the Stormbird down through the grey clouds and over the expansive superstructure of the Kinhold, locating and hovering over an immense, circular landing platform. The shuttle descended onto the ground, and its passengers disembarked. Two massive statues carved out from the cliff face straddled a towering pair of stone doors, inscribed with innumerable patterns and glyphs in the Kin's language. The stone and metal were slick from the light drizzle of rain pouring down from the grimly-lit sky, yet Dóri couldn't help but notice a faint beam of light piercing the clouds far in the distance.
"Open it." The Grimnyr said.
Dóri located a large hand wheel embedded into the rock, hesitantly placing his hands on its spokes.
"Be prepared, everyone… We don't know what's waiting for us inside." Dóri said.
He looked towards the old bearded Grimnyr, who simply nodded. Dóri took a deep breath and spun the wheel, expending great effort to move the ancient, poorly-maintained mechanism. Luckily, or more as testament to the longevity of Kin engineering, the mechanism remained functional and with every rotation the great stone doors slowly split open. They scraped against the weathered stone with a low, grinding sound that echoed all throughout the dark, expansive interior, a sliver of light shining between them and illuminating the hall within.
The group entered the spacious ingress, a wide and vaunted hallway lined with yet more carved figures from the Dunmyres' ancient past. Piles of dead machines lined the walls, though to their relief none showed any signs of movement. The group passed through ancient stone halls, descending monumental staircases as they traversed the abandoned Kinhold. There were signs of decay and degradation all around them, and even some marks of deliberate desecration. Statues were beheaded, inscriptions were defaced, and the whole complex was in general disrepair. It was a depressing sight to be sure, but a damaged yet empty hold was far more inviting than one filled with hostile occupants.
They ventured further and further into the decrepit hold, a feeling of oppressive darkness surrounding them the deeper they descended. No unseen or diabolical forces impeded their progress, despite their fearful minds expecting such. Eventually, they reached the deepest section of the complex.
They emerged onto an expansive platform, suspended above an immense pool of water. Admu's eyes widened in recognition as she recognized her surroundings from memory. In the murky darkness, the vague shape of an immense sphere could be seen before them, suspended in shadow. As they approached closer, its surface became visible. It was the monumental supercomputer that acted as the core of Kin society, the Votann. Even this great artifact was not untouched by the ravages of the Machineblight, its surface covered in stains of rust and decay as well as scratches and chain-marks. Despite this superficial defacement, the Votann was largely intact; though they would not know for sure just how intact it was until it was activated.
"Dóri… activate the Hearth. Give life to the Votann." The Grimnyr said.
"With all due respect…" Dòmhnagh said. "How do we know this isn't a trap? That the Machineblight hasn't lured us here? If we activate the hearth and awaken the Votann, it could just give the creature more power-"
The Grimnyr raised his hand, cutting the High Kahl's words short.
"Proceed, Dóri." Durvald said.
Dóri moved towards a large console covered in switches and levers, the central control panel for the heart of the Kinhold. His hands hovered over the ancient and revered interface, his fingers almost shaking as he located the activation sequence. He flicked several switches and pulled a lever, the actions coming to him almost on instinct. A metal panel slid open, revealing a bright red button. His finger cautiously hovered over it. The Kin covered his eyes, and pressed the button.
A wave of intense heat shot through all of them, filling the air with the smell of sulfur and heavy metals. In the far distance, the darkness was slowly consumed by a deep red emanating from several monolithic cylinders. The cylindrical crucibles began siphoning geothermal energy from the planet's core, their internal dynamos revving up to unimaginable speeds. Lights began turning on all around them, before finally the Votann itself flared in a halo of ethereal energy.
Its surface erupted with arcs of pale blue light, snaking and curving along its ridges like the fiery corona of a star. The light was overpowering, yet not blinding - radiating with a form of exotic energy beyond that of the visible light spectrum. Everyone was forced to cover their eyes except for the Grimnyr. His carved staff fell from his hand and clattered on the ground, and tears streamed from his eyes.
"I don't… I don't believe it." Dóri said.
"The Votann… lives." Dòmhnagh said, his hammer falling to the ground as his arms hung limpy by his sides.
The Grimnyr turned to the rest of the group, his eyes bursting with blue-white flame, and slowly outstretched his hand towards Admu and Leman.
"Kin of the Dunmyre Syndicate… behold, your saviors."
The Kin stood in stunned silence for a moment, then in quick succession all four save the channeling Grimnyr dropped to one knee. Leman and Admu looked around nonplussed.
"I… I'm not sure what to say." Admu said, rubbing the back of her head nervously.
"Your actions speak loud and clear, traveler Tia. You risked your own life to destroy the warp-born infestation that threatened to consume us in our entirety… a selfless act born of kindness and friendship hitherto unseen by our kind." The voice spoke through the Grymnir.
"So it was true…" Dóri said.
"Tia… you truly did that? F-for us?" Vêlyma said. "But… but why?"
"Why…?" Admu asked. "Well… it was the right thing to do. I always help my friends!"
"Oh, Tia…" Vêlyma said.
Her voice wavered such that her emotions were clear though she had no tears to shed. The Ironkin leapt to her feet and ran towards Admu, wrapping her arms around her in a deep embrace. Ykkhí and Dóri followed suit with tears in their eyes, the three Kin siblings piling on Admu's towering frame. They heaped words of praise and gratitude on her, and she could only laugh and smile with a bright pink blush painted across her face.
"P-please, it was… it was nothing, I was just helping out!" Admu said, overcome with bashfulness.
"No." Dòmhnagh said, approaching from behind with a grave expression. "...it was… everything."
The High Kahl dropped to his hands and knees, his face pointed towards the ground and scrunched with intense emotion.
"What you have done… we… I cannot begin to describe what you have given us… more than hope… you've given us our future back. I-I humbly beg you for forgiveness… after the disrespect I showed you before." Dòmhnagh said, his voice trembling.
"I understand. " Admu said with a kind smile. "After spending so much time far from home, unable to return… no one could fault you for being protective of your kinsfolk. I forgive you."
Dòmhnagh looked up almost with a look of confusion, then cracked an almost imperceptible smile. He rose to his feet, wiping a single tear from his eye before returning to his usual stoic expression.
"B-besides, Mister Enoch helped too!" Admu said. "Without him keeping you three safe, I wouldn't have been able to fight the daemon!"
Leman placed a hand on her shoulder.
"You've done a noble deed here, Tia." Leman said.
"Outsiders… no, Comrades. It will take many decades to restore this place to the glory it once was… but no longer will our people scavenge in the dark, unable to return home. You have given the Kindred of the Dunmyre Syndicate back their past… and our future. There are no words, no amount, no units sufficient to describe the incalculable debt to which you are owed. For as long as a single star burns in the night sky, you will be forever welcome and honored in these halls." The voice said. "Long live comrade Tia! Long live comrade Enoch! Long live the Dunmyre Syndicate!" The voice chanted, echoed by all the Kin in attendance with their fists raised high in the air.
The Grimnyr's eyes faded, returning to a pale, dim glow in his pale irises. He rested against his staff, the weight of the events pulling down on him before he recovered.
"Tia, Enoch, from the bottom of my spirit, I think I can speak for all the Kin of the Dunmyre, living and passed, when I say… thank you." Durvald said, his usually stone-like face momentarily melting into a gentle smile that radiated boundless gratitude. "Dori… Dòmhnagh… once we return, we must commence preparations to return to Thrain II…" he turned to Leman and Admu. "...as well as begin repairing our dear friends' transportation. Though I know not the nature of their mission, it is of utmost importance to them… and will thus be our top priority."
"Aye, Lord Grimnyr." Dori said.
"However… before we depart, Comrade Tia…" Durvald said. "If you would do us the honor, the Votann wished to give you something. It is in our reliquary, not far from here."
Admu looked over at Leman, who gave a gentle nod of affirmation.
"I would be honored." Admu said, beaming.
The doors of the reliquary were sealed with an elaborate set of arcane locks, impenetrable even to the influence of the Machineblight. It was as if the place was too sacred for the daemon to touch, or perhaps something within staved off its influence even after all these decades and centuries. It took all four able-bodied kin to wrench open the complex locking mechanisms, spinning gears and releasing a set of spring-loaded hooks arranged all along the door frames. The doors themselves were made of a kind of ancient petrified wood, carved with ornate pictographs and illustrations that looked as old as the material they were imprinted upon. The immense doors swung open with a creaking sound, clouds of dust and ancient, still air streaming out from the sealed chamber.
Within was an elongated hall with a towering, vaulted ceiling, the stone-carved walls coated in all manner of artifacts and relics gathered over tens of thousands of years by the clan of the Dunmyre. Preserved heads of monstrous xenos beasts, weapons of every size, make, and model imaginable, piles of jewels and precious metals carved so intricately they scarcely looked real. Locked tomes, holo-disks, and Remembrancer tapes from the distant past, sealed in glass containers for millennia. The outsiders and kin alike marveled at the stored treasures of the Hold, none of them save the old Grimnyr ever having seen it with their own eyes before.
"All of the treasures in this hall combined would not be enough to repay you for your honorable deeds… but we hope that you will accept this as a token of our unfathomable gratitude." The Grimnyr said, gesturing towards the terminus of the expansive corridor.
There was a grand stone pedestal in the center of the hall, simple yet elegant in its design. It appeared to be the oldest and least refined part of the entire Hold, like a roughly hewn chunk of stone torn straight from the peak of a mountain. At its zenith, atop a polished flat surface of white marble, lay a strange, alien artifact.
"Long ago… there was a famed and legendary Brokhyr-turned-Hernkyn of the Dunmyre Syndicate… He traveled the stars beyond the inner core many times, bringing an untold wealth of knowledge and experiences back to the Votann with every expedition. He journeyed farther and wider than any Kin before him. Peculiarly, he came from a line of Forge-masters, his wanderlust expressed as a recessive trait within his cloneskein…" The Grimnyr said.
"Feldryn… Feldryn the Voidtreader?" Dori said, breathlessly.
"Indeed, Dori. The same cloneskein from which your blood was drawn. Your ancestor was a great Kin, perhaps the greatest yet to come from our Kinhost. This relic… was his last testament." The Grimnyr said.
"I've read all the tales of Feldryn's journeys… but I thought the record of his final voyage was lost." Dori said.
"Not lost… withheld. It is perhaps the greatest secret of our clan, kept from all but those deemed worthy by the Votann. It was meant to be revealed to you, Dori, upon your ascension to the office of Forge-master… but the calamity of the Machineblight prevented it. It is a story that only the ancestors remember, and only partially. The Grimnyr said, his eyes flickering slightly as he tapped into the Votann's ancestral knowledge.
"Many millennia ago, the Voidtreader returned from his final journey… as a corpse. He was brought to us, carried in the arms of a strange, alien figure. Who or what he was is lost to ancestral memory, but what we do know is that he and Feldryn had met one another along their journey. Once allies, they had formed a deep and unbreakable bond of friendship, a bond forged through strife and struggle. He spoke of a great battle against a nameless star-god at the edge of the known universe, one which Feldryn had helped vanquish, saving the life of his alien comrade… at the cost of sacrificing his own. The alien was deeply moved and sought to repay this debt to his departed friend, so he delivered his body here, to be buried with full Kin honors… and entrusted us with this:"
Lying on the pedestal was a long and slender object, crafted from an iridescent, pearly material. It consisted of three tightly intertwined tubes that were partially fused along its length, forming a long, cylindrical staff. Near the head of the artifact were two dark metal prongs similar to a crossguard inlaid with a murky red gemstone. A short, misshapen edge jutted from the head of the staff between the crossguards, the only hint of imperfection in the otherwise expertly crafted relic. Its surface was carved with intricate patterns and symbols, far more detailed and exquisite than any of the Kin artifacts they had seen thus far, such that it appeared they were grown directly from the material rather than inscribed by any hand. If it weren't for the vaguely metallic sheen of the object's surface and its overall intelligently planned design, it would have appeared to have been made of wood or bone.
"We never understood its purpose or mechanism, for it could only be wielded by the one it was intended for. It was not a symbol of gratitude, but one of trust. The alien said that this was a weapon of great power, and that he had searched for many millennia for a safe place to keep it. He believed that, through his unparalleled bravery and unwavering loyalty, Feldryn had shown that our clan was worthy of protecting this artifact until the time that it could be given to the one it was meant for. We accepted this duty in honor of Feldryn's sacrifice, and the bond he shared with this alien outsider. I had feared that by losing Thrain, by losing the Votann… that we had failed in this duty."The Grimnyr said. Then, the old Kin looked to Tia.
"...but I had neglected to recall the last of the alien's parting words. A promise… that the weapon's chosen wielder would come to us in our darkest hour, and gift us with a treasure beyond our wildest dreams. Tia… the Votann have determined that you are the one the alien spoke of. The one whom the artifact was meant for." The Grimnyr said.
Admu stood in shocked silence, unsure of what to do next. She looked around at the other Kin, who shared her look of astonishment at the revelation. She turned to Leman, her eyes expressing doubt and uncertainty.
"What… what should I do?" Admu whispered.
"Fate… is a fickle mistress. I cannot say that I have found much of a difference between following the whims of destiny nor struggling against them. Whether this 'alien' truly knew that you would end up here, or whether it was an inevitable role simply waiting for one worthy enough to fill it… who can say for sure? The choice is ultimately yours." Leman said.
"Very well… I will accept it." Admu said with a determined expression.
She slowly ascended the steps of the pedestal, towering over the old Grimnyr and looking down at the large staff before her. She tentatively reached out her hand, then suddenly found her fingertips alighting with a ghostly flame. She yelped and retracted her arm, yet realized she felt no pain nor bared any marks from the fire. Steeling her resolve, she reached out again. She reached through the ghostly fire as it engulfed her entire hand, then her lower arm before she could finally grasp the artifact. She raised it in the air, the pale flame subsiding.
"That's strange…" Ykkhi said. "It's got a hilt and a crossguard… but the blade's missing."
"Perhaps it was broken… or left unfinished." Velyma said.
Suddenly, the fading flame erupted in Admu's hand and turned bright red. It cast an ominous crimson glow all over the hall of relics, and Admu began to feel a searing pain in her palm. The sound of the roaring fire was deafening, yet within the howl of the blaze another noise could faintly be heard: the unmistakable sound of hammer falling upon anvil. Shadows danced across the walls, forming shapes and figures that moved as if they were alive. The events they depicted were indecipherable to the eyes that beheld them, echoes of the weapon's creation and history playing out in rapid succession.
The artifact trembled and shook in Admu's hands, threatening to fly out of control and unleash all of its accumulated power in a single, destructive burst. Instead, she gripped the weapon tightly with both of her hands and willed it to submit, to accept her as its wielder. Sweat poured from her brow, the muscles in her arms clenched, and her palms burned like she was holding hot coals. Gradually and with great effort, she reigned in the fire bursting from the weapon and the conflagration slowly died down. The flame withdrew from her arms and hands, climbing up the hilt of the staff before shooting out the top in a concentrated, blue-green jet. The jet reduced further and further, growing thinner and thinner until it formed a solid blade of crystallized warp-energy. The bladeless weapon had transformed into an elongated glaive, crackling and steaming with residual power.
"The weapon's chosen wielder has been found… and our promise to Feldryn fulfilled." The Grimnyr said, his voice softened by emotion.
"That's quite an impressive polearm…" Leman said. "Though I've never seen quite that style of weapon before."
Admu handled the weapon, shifting it in her hands and feeling its weight. It felt strangely natural in her hands, so perfectly balanced it was as if it were an extension of her own body.
"I've never held a weapon like this." Admu said. "Although, it almost reminds me of the time I went boar hunting with my uncle… but that was with spears."
Suddenly, the crystalline blade erupted into a jet of flame once again, causing Admu to yelp. The flame quickly subsided, re-forming itself into the flattened tip of a spear.
"Well, isn't that something…" Dori marveled.
"I wonder…" Admu said.
She closed her eyes and concentrated on something, a memory of fishing along the coast with her father. The blade quickly re-formed itself into a three-pronged trident, complete with inward-facing barbs.
"Incredible…" She said.
The blade dissolved into flame once again, then retracted back into the hilt of the weapon; the latent power within awaiting to be called upon by its wielder when it was needed.
"Much has transpired in the last few days…" The Grimnyr said, his voice remaining grave yet carrying an undercurrent of hope. "It will take time for our people to resettle the Hold, restore its functions and return to our rightful home. There is much work to be done… but now, there is only one thing left for us to do before that long and arduous task can begin."
"...and what is that, Lord Grimnyr?" Dòmhnagh said.
To his surprise, the grizzled old Kin cracked a wry smile.
"What else? We must celebrate! The ancestors decree it!" Grimnyr Durvald said, his arms oustretched.