The Fifth Dawn

EPILOGUE

Deep in the heart of a metal world, an elf and a goblin wandered through a chattering swarm of tiny builder artifacts that chirped at them with friendly whistles. The larger combat constructs had fallen silent, their power sources gone dark, their clawed feet and deadly blades frozen in mid-strike. The Panopticon was completely gone. Not even the heavy support struts still stood. The mana core seemed just a little smaller than before, and no longer quite as bright. The ball of energy gave off soft warmth that filled the interior.

For the first time since she could remember, the Glissa didn’t have a care in the world. Just a wicked headache.

“How did you do it?” Glissa asked.

“Do what?” replied Slobad.

“I remember charging Memnarch, and he started to go over. I was still holding on-”

“Oh, that,” Slobad said. “It was pretty funny, huh? Memnarch starts going over backward, you lose grip and smack head on platform. Memnarch drops into that big ball,” he added. “Then the big boom-wave hits, and after a few minutes of that Slobad blacked out. Woke up not far from here. You were there, too. Asleep. You been out for days.”

“So we won,” Glissa said. “But if I was out for days … where is everyone? Surely they would have sent someone looking for us if the attacks have stopped.”

“Slobad thought that too, huh? Went and checked it out,” the goblin said. He produced the chain of charms Bruenna had given the elf girl and placed it in her palm. “You keep that, huh? This goblin’s been in the air enough for a hundred lifetimes.”

Glissa took wrapped the chain around her forearm and buried the urge to scream. If they’d won the battle against Memnarch, only to lose the war … “What did you see? Are they-are they dead?”

“They’re not anything,” the goblin said. “They’re gone. All the nim are dead, huh? And none of the constructs work, except these little guys.” The goblin let a small Memnarch-like artifact scuttle up one arm and down the other. “Slobad has theory.”

“Really?”

“Slobad can have theories! It’s just-the soul traps. Can’t explain exactly how I know, but when Slobad was hooked to that machine, felt a-a mana backlash. And the traps are gone, too, huh? Had a few days to look.”

“‘Mana backlash’?” Glissa said, covering a smirk. “You were in that rack for too long.” She leaned down and kissed the goblin on the forehead. “And I’m glad you got your arms and legs back. You looked terrible.”

“Well, yeah, magic. Crazy stuff,” the goblin continued, waving at the exhilaratingly close mana ball that still crackled with energy overhead. “Woke up, and there they were. Never know what magic’s gonna do, huh?”

“Wait,” Glissa said, “If the soul traps are all gone, why are we-”

“Get back, vermin! I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you all! Back!”

“Flare,” Glissa said. She drew her sword and took off in the direction of the voice. Slobad followed with exaggerated care over the carpet of scuttlers.

“Close that-get out of-ow! I’m going to tear you apart!”

“With your teeth?” Glissa asked. Geth’s head sat next to a perfect silver sphere the size of the elf girl’s fist in a large silver chest lines with a soft purple material. The leathery gray skin that clung to Geth’s skull looked fresher somehow, the black eyes a little less withered. He didn’t even stink that badly. “Geth, why are you still here? Slobad, why’s he still here?”

“Glissa!” the head exclaimed. “Get these things away from me! I was taking a nap, then one of these insects figured out how to unlatch my lid, and-”

“Why is he here at all if the soul traps are all gone?” Glissa asked no one in particular. “Why are we still here, Slobad?”

“That, I can answer,” Geth said. “Someone gave me a message. But first, you’ve got a promise to keep.”

“What you talking about, head?” Slobad said.

“I said someone gave me a message to give to the two of you. But I’ve done enough work for free. Glissa owes me a body. No body, no information.”

“No deal!” Slobad snarled, glad to have found someone he could finally kick around.

“Wait, Slobad,” Glissa said. “Geth, there’s no one else here. Not even bodies.” She picked up one of the scuttling mini-Memnarchs, which buzzed with irritation and kicked at the air with four small legs. “Just these.”

Slobad took the scuttler from Glissa and held it close to his face, whispering. He nodded a few times as it hooted a response. Finally the goblin placed the scuttler back on the ground, and it stood next to the open chest. “Okay, head,” Slobad said. “This little guy agrees to be your body. Good enough?”

Geth considered, clicking what was left of his tongue against the latticework remains of his cheek. “It’ll do what I say?” he asked.

“For now. After a while, it’ll do what you think,” the goblin said.

“Slobad, you can do that?” Glissa asked.

“Yeah, I … I can,” Slobad said, somewhat surprised. “I can talk to them, too. And this one’s volunteered, so I’m okay with it, huh?” The goblin sidled up to the elf girl and whispered, “I think they’re a little scared of you, so this one wants to do this so you won’t fry his buddies. Won’t believe me when I tell ’em you won’t. Try not to step on any, huh?”

“I don’t think I could if I wanted too,” Glissa said quietly. “It’s gone, Slobad. The spark. I can’t feel it.” It was true, she realized. She tried to reach the energy, but it had left her. She felt relieved and abandoned at the same time.

“I’ll take it!” Geth interrupted. “I can always work my way up. Look at Memnarch.”

“Good,” Glissa said, glad to think about something else. “Now talk.”

“Not until-”

“Geth, he’ll do it. But talk. Now. Or I put that ball through your skull and out the other side. What is that, anyway?”

“Okay, okay,” Geth said. “Who else am I going to tell? There was a golem. Said to make sure you got the ball.”

“Bosh?” Slobad gasped. “Bosh is alive?”

“Don’t be stupid,” Geth said. “This golem was big and quicksilver, as you well know. Like he was melting and frozen at the same time. Friendly fellow. Said that you two were supposed to hold onto that ball for him, and he’d come back. You’re supposed to wait for him, if you want. And one more thing. Two, really. Lift me up.”

“No,” Glissa said. “Slobad, is that true? Do you remember a golem?”

“Maybe,” Slobad said and scratched his head. “Sounds familiar, but …” He shrugged. “Sorry.”

“Lift. Me. Up,” Geth said. “It’s part of the message. This box has a false bottom.”

“And a false top, if you ask me,” Slobad muttered, but Glissa did as Geth asked. She set the head wet-end down atop the patiently waiting memnite. Geth fit atop the tiny construct like a gelfruit on a juicing tool. She lifted the soft lining of the chest and found two small, glowing rectangular objects that felt warm to the touch.

“Slobad, these are our soul traps,” Glissa whispered. “Can you feel it?”

“Yeah,” Slobad said. “Kinda like hearing yourself talking in another room.”

“So the golem-hey, you know, this doesn’t look to bad on me-so the golem said that Memnarch had kept those in a safe place. They were protected when everything went off,” Geth said.

“So why you still here?” Slobad said. “There’s only two traps here, where’s yours?”

“I’ve been dead for years,” Geth said. “No soul to trap.”

“Do you know what this means?” Glissa said. “We can go back. Back to the world Memnarch took us from. If we break these.”

“The golem said that was your choice,” the head continued. “Break these and disappear, or wait for him.”

“Sounds like a trap,” Glissa said.

Slobad leaned over and scooped up the silver ball. He looked at it for a long moment, then tucked it into his satchel. Then he slowly closed the lid on the chest. “Think we should wait. Slobad’s spent his whole life hiding from the world. We know everybody’s safe, huh? Now there’s no need for Slobad to hide from anything. And something … Slobad don’t know why, but he want to trust that golem.” The goblin leaned down to pat a scuttling artifact. “Besides, don’t want to leave all these little guys alone with Geth, huh?”

Glissa stared at the box. She could leave this world, return to a home she’d never known. Or she could stay with her friend and explore Mirrodin as she’d never been able to before. Maybe, someday, she’d get some answers. “You sure there’s not anything you want to tell me?” she said. “You’re acting stranger than usual.”

“Course not,” Slobad said. “Just a weird feeling. Slobad just glad to have legs and arms and eyes, huh? Want to use them a bit.”

Glissa took a long look at the mana core, and then took Slobad’s hand in hers. The carpet of scuttlers parted, forming a long path that led to the entrance of the green lacuna. “You know, we never did come up with a name for that new moon,” she said. “I think I like ‘Lyese.’”

“Good name, huh?” Slobad said.

“Wait, where are you going?” Geth shouted. “Goblin, I’m not hooked up yet! Construct, I order you to follow them! Move, you stupid thing. Move!”

“He should learn to ask more nicely,” Slobad said. “They don’t like to be shouted at.”

“He’ll figure it out,” Glissa replied, “but let’s get to the surface before he does.”

Bruenna smiled as the leonin zauk riders come over the rise and descended down the path into the seaside village of Lume. The large flightless birds looked out of place this far from the grasslands, and she noted a few of the younger-looking leonin riders gaped at the dazzling blue sea beyond the settlement. She wondered if what she’d heard about cats and water applied to cat-people as well.

The goblins had also agreed to send envoys, and she expected Dwugget would arrive before long. The signing ceremony was mostly a formality, but it would be the first time the leaders of the elves, goblins, leonin, and humans had assembled in one place. The treaty had taken her months to hammer out with the other leaders, but her earlier experiences with the elves had proven quite valuable. The alliance would see an end to thousands of years of pointless conflicts. The humans and elves had shown the other peoples that it was possible. Still, she was glad Yulyn had honored her wish that he go hunting this morning. Bruenna would rather greet the leonin without the old elf there-he was a good and honorable man, but could be abrasive at times.

“Lyese,” she said, calling her apprentice from the study. The elf girl staggered out under a pile of bound leather books, which she half-dropped, half-set on the heavy wooden table in the center of the conference hall.

“They’re almost here,” Bruenna said.

“They’re magnificent,” Lyese gasped.

“Keep your awe in check,” Bruenna said, smiling. “We don’t want to scare them away.”

The leonin riders reined their mounts to a halt, and the leader slid easily from the saddle. He removed his silver helmet and shook free a flowing mane that was a little darker than his golden fur.

“Kha Raksha Golden Cub,” Bruenna said as she walked out under the golden sun and met the leonin with a deep bow, “on behalf of my people, the humans of Lume, and our allies, the elves of Jilad, I welcome you.”

“The honor is mine, Lady Bruenna,” Raksha said. “We are pleased to finally meet you.”