Approaching Apotheosis

“Though faded over the course of ten thousand years, strong preservation spells were laid over the First Hive as a whole,” Sting explained, leading us to the far side of the research lab.

“It didn’t save everything,” Naper added, walking side-by-side with the drone. “But coupled with the isolated nature of the city, there is far more intact in Nisir than what could be expected from a city whose age is measured in millennia. The whole place was hermetically sealed and forgotten, disturbed only by earthquakes and the cold blade of time.”

Luna frowned. “Earthquakes? Is that the cause of the cracking and collapse of the buildings here? I would have assumed that the damage would be more severe if the ground itself was seeking to bury this city.”

“Not at all,” Naper countered, bowing slightly to the Princess. “Earthquakes happen all the time, just rarely in the strength capable of shaking cities, which I’m sure is the kind you’re thinking of, Princess. Enough movement could cause stresses and cracks in the buildings overtime, weakening them. The fact that most still stand is a testament to ancient changeling building and enchantment techniques. I dare say that at its height, it may have even rivaled Canterlot’s macro-engineering in its complexity!”

Sting scoffed, “With the dead sun that hangs above this city? I think it’s easy to see how it shined brighter than the capital of your empire, Naper.”

The pony pursed his lips and nodded, “True! These ancient changelings have gone farther than most science fiction authors dreamed possible! Now, with other ruins, we have to resort to things like pottery, paintings on ceramics, sculptures, and surviving knowledge to piece together how those long past lived. However! Nisir is unlike most ruins; we have scraps of actual records and physical paintings that we have recovered. We recovered this one from the throne room.”

Naper pointed out to a space on the wall, where a tattered piece of painted cloth hung in a frame. Three panels stacked on top of each other of varying quality held faded pictures of changelings. The top and bottom were ragged and threadbare, the image only partially visible. The center panel only had the sides cut off, providing the most intact image. The top depicted the bottom right half of… something pink. A heart, perhaps, judging by the downward curve at the top? Rays of pink spread out from it, like how sun rays were depicted. Both ponies and changelings gathered to the side in a crowd. In the second panel, changelings were seen bringing amphoras of pink to a royal changeling who sat upon the throne, wearing the same crown as the one adorning the skeleton sitting there. The final panel showed the crowned royal before several kneeling royals. At the forefront was Princess Arista Narmer, the pale gold changeling who had recorded the four crystals I viewed when I first arrived in this city. The rest were colored dark green and light red, with another being torn away and only their bowed head visible on the surviving shred of the painting.

“One monarch, and several others below him,” Sting remarked. “That one at the front is Princess Arista Narmer, the one you described from the crystal recording.”

“Correct,” I muttered, rubbing my chin. “That must mean the crowned one is the Emperor Megatypus, who Princess Arista mentioned briefly.”

“And whose skeleton sits on the throne to this day,” Naper concluded. “At least, so we assume. There’s always the chance that a different royal took up the crown and seat at the last minute.”

“We already know that Nisir grew fat on the Crystal Heart’s love,” Luna said. “That much was revealed through the first visions. This piece of art, while resplendent in its antiquity, ultimately tells us nothing new.”

Naper shrugged, “It does hint at the existence of other royals besides the Princess that were present within Nisir. This was the first major discovery within the Palace; we started from the throne room and radiated our search outwards from there. The amount of findings has been… staggering, to the point where we have quickly run out of room to properly study and display everything. Most of it is deteriorated scraps that can only be appreciated for the very, very small glimpses into what life was like ten thousand years ago. Bits of plates, pottery, scraps of paper that hold a few words, so on. The cutlery survived mostly intact, in case you are interested in several hundred forks, knives, and spoons.”

I blinked in surprise, “Forks, knives, and spoons? These changelings were eating physical foods regularly?”

“Apparently,” Sting smiled. “Speaks volumes of their ability to afford luxuries, doesn’t it? Also makes you wonder if the other two previous Hives had that luxury, or if it was until the Fifth that changelings could eat pony foods again. We’ve also been mapping out the city as a whole, both for study and for defenses. This place had it all, King Phasma! Food stores- both physical and what we assume is love storage, ample housing, bathhouses, and… stuff! From what we can tell, the housing goes several layers under the street level. We’ve been mostly avoiding exploring those, out of fear that there might be connections to the Underhive. It’s taking some time, but we’re going tunnel by tunnel and mapping the whole underground. So far, it doesn’t seem like anything gets close to the Underhive connection in the middle of the city, but there’s no telling if something burrowed up from there.”

“I’ve heard plenty of tales of that place from your kind,” Luna said, glancing downward at the floor beneath her. “I can’t imagine you could sleep soundly at night knowing there might be an open passage to that Tartarus…”

“We’ve seen no signs of wildlife native to the Underhive,” Pharynx said confidently. “Trust me, I know what that looks like.”

Suddenly, I was reminded of the fact that hundreds, if not thousands of changelings had died down there in the past year, working to tunnel all the way over to Canterlot. It’s a damn shame their sacrifices are for nothing, as there is no way to secure that tunnel against burrowers for future use. Nor was there any reason to go back to the Fourth Hive.

“The structures of the homes have revealed something rather peculiar,” Sting moved the conversation along. “They seem to be stacked, vertically speaking. There are many tunnels that connect the warrens, but by and large all the underground chambers lie beneath the hoofprint of the estate above.”

“We believe they are servants,” Naper added. “Or changelings pledged to the manor’s owners. The city is divided by loyalties to the upper class.”

I shifted on my hooves uncomfortably, “This is the first Hive we’ve seen with nobles, then. I wonder, were these nobles all royals?”

“As a matter of fact,” Sting began with a wide smile, “the proportions of all the doors and halls in the manors fit that idea!”

“There must have been dozens of royals, then,” Luna remarked. “At least a hundred!”

“How far down do they go?” I asked.

Naper licked his lips and glanced beneath my chest, “We’ve been seeing how far down we can go, but it’s slow work. Takes a lot of practice and patience…”

String shook her head, “For the love of– at least a dozen levels. We haven’t been able to go further than that yet. There’s also evidence of some larger chambers down there: common rooms and the like.”

“Like… the Fifth Hive?” I ventured.

“Precisely!” Naper beamed. “There is a whole city beneath this city! We are merely scraping the surface of it all!”

I whistled, “Damn. Just how many lings lived in this city?”

Sting glanced at some charts on one of the desks, “That depends on how compact the drones’ living situation was. If it was like Canterlot, easily ninety thousand. If it was like the Fourth Hive, we’re looking at half a million.”

“Half a million,” I echoed. “... And we’re what, fifteen thousand now? Seventeen? Half a million in this city, and there were six other cities just like it across the globe…”

“We haven’t found anything to do with the other cities mentioned in the record you saw,” Sting said. “Sorry, My King.”

“Perhaps in time, we might find those lost civilizations, too,” Luna offered a smile, “What else can you tell us about these ancient people?”

Naper scratched his neck, “Uh… they ate physical food?”

“Perhaps it’s best if we move on,” Sting suggested. “We’re still piecing everything together, and getting this place habitable takes up more time than you’d think.”

“What next? Adamantium?” I asked.

“Adamantium, My King,” Sting smiled. She grabbed a necklace from a nearby desk and tossed it over to Naper, who caught it in his hooves. “I’ll go get the others. You cover the basics and bring ‘em over, Naper.”

With that, the drone made for the door.

“You got it,” Naper winked at Sting before turning his attention to us. “This here is one of the disguise necklaces recovered from, uh… from Lantern Night.”

The reminder froze me in place. It was only when Luna stepped closer to me and brushed against my side did I let out the breath I was holding.

“The other copies are being transferred up from Canterlot,” Naper continued, “the ones that aren’t going to be used, at least. We’ve recovered all of Division-P’s research notes on them. They are… mostly functional, as you’ve seen. But mostly functional comes with plenty of problems. But! You’re not here to hear about the necklaces, you’re here to hear about Adamantium.”

“There’s not much info we have on it,” I admitted. “The records were… thin, and the knowledge that Chrysalis was willing to share was even thinner.”

Naper held out the necklace, letting the segmented green pieces of metal dangle, “With patience and hard work, and a lot of getting our hooves nice and dirty, we’ve managed to coax out a load of information.”

“Ugh,” I gagged, immediately trying my best to ignore the mental image the pony was putting in my head. “Less innuendos when talking about my mother, please and thank you.”

“Sorry,” He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “But uh… Yeah she has talked a lot more since you last tried to pry that information from her. In exchange for some amenities– all authorized by Princess Celestia, Princess Luna, or Princess Cadance– we’ve learned the process for smelting Adamantium.”

Luna frowned, “I authorized no such exchange.”

Naper froze, “No? Uh. You may need to… audit the security in and around her holding cell, then.”

“Vicious snake,” I heard Luna curse under her breath. “I see. Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Naper. Please, continue.”

“Right! Anyways, we’ve recorded that info and made copies in triplicate. One copy for up here, one copy in the Royal Palace’s restricted archives, and one extra copy for the Fifth Hive’s Crystal Caverns’ library.”

“We have a library?” I asked. “Wait, we made copies of that information? Isn’t that… supposed to be a state secret?”

“The making of the copies was approved by your office,” Naper frowned.

“It was?!” I gasped.

‘Wait, is this some deep conspiracy and plot by Division-P to coax out information from the changelings again? Are they plotting to get all the information on processing Adamantium so they- oh wait.’

“Wait, no, it was,” I said, relaxing again. “Sorry, I've been signing a lot of paperwork recently. I think I was worried about that knowledge being lost to time, and figured that the metal being so scarce would mean that the knowledge itself isn’t exactly important enough to keep secret.”

The pony nodded before continuing, “This metal is nothing short of a miracle. Other comparable materials, such as gold, enchantable silks, and gems lack the longevity, purity, and strength offered by Adamantium. This wondrous metal you changelings discovered is nothing short of the world’s only perfect palimpsest; any number of enchantments can be placed, erased, and written over on Adamantium without losing any potency of the enchanting medium. It’s the perfect blank slate! And that’s not even getting to the amount of enchantments it can hold, which we have yet to discover an upper limit on!”

This piqued Luna’s interest, whose ears shot upwards, “No upper limit? Not even the most pure of diamonds can boast that. What are the drawbacks of Adamantium?”

Naper set the necklace down, “The obvious: aside from the mountain of the stuff lying in the middle of the city, the occasional artifact from here, King Phasma’s war hammer, and his broken-down peytral that Division-P divided up, there exists no significant quantity of Adamantium. What we have is all we’ll get. That is unless you were planning a trip to the Underhive?”

“No!” I said a bit too loudly.

“Definitely not,” Pharynx agreed. “We lost so many soldiers just scraping by the top layer of that underworld. Adamantium and Mithril are found only in the lowest layer.”

“Oh, Mithril,” Naper said, looking longingly at the ceiling above him. “What we’d all give to study that mysterious substance…”

“I’m not breaking God-Splitter,” I shot him down.

“I know, Your Majesty. Moving on, I believe it is time for our two-fold test!”

“What kind of test?” Luna asked.

Naper made for the door, “... Can I use my innuendos again?”

I grunted, “I’d prefer it if you didn’t.”

He turned to face me while walking, “Pleeeeeeeeea–”

“Fine!”

“Yes!” He pumped a hoof. “So this test has some walking to get to. We– and by we I mean ponies and changelings who like metal, rocks, and gems a bit too much– have been looking at the old forge district of the city. Judging by the information from Chrysalis, we have positively identified an Adamantium forge. There’s more, too, with an iron forge and an alloy forge. Bronze, maybe. Looks like Nisir had very successful mines down below, sourcing not only iron, but also coal, copper, and a little bit of tin. Mostly coal, though. We’re still scratching our heads when it comes to how they got all the materials to match their coal production… maybe stole it from shipments from Griffonia?”

“Where’s the innuendo in all of that?” I found myself asking.

Naper smiled coyly, “It lies with the answer to the question: where were the changelings bringing in resources from? Currently, it seems as if the city was entirely hermetically sealed from the outside world. But there simply must be an entrance! The changelings must have been discretely receiving loads through a back door…”

“Alright,” I sighed, “I shouldn’t have asked.”

“You really should not have,” Luna agreed.

Naper must have run out of talking points as the rest of our trek passed along in silence. I took the time to admire the forlorn ruins of this ancient Palace as we walked through its halls. The kind of decoration and life it saw in its hay day must have been something to behold. Eventually, we passed through the Palace’s threshold and entered the proper, crossing a bridge over what had once been a canal or moat.

We walked up to an abandoned train station, a small open little platform that sat flush against the edge of the former canal. Naper hopped down onto the track, and we all followed suit. An assortment of guards joined us as we trotted across the rail line. The tracks cut above what used to be the wide park below, the one that separated the three inner districts from the massive sprawl hugging the edge of the cavern. It was raised above the ground, like a speed rail or aqueduct, giving us a gorgeous view of the snow-covered tomb. Our destination was the nearby forge district, filled with low, square-ish buildings and countless trail lines. The re-sealed entrance to the Underhive loomed nearby, like a large open plaza, leveled flat and paved over in metal.

‘The world was fair in Durin’s day…’

Rows of statutes of changelings stood across the walls as we entered the largest forge. They lacked any holes seen in drones of this age, instead each statue was as solid as the stone that they were carved from. With enough hard angles and straight lines to remind me only of a Tolkien dwarf hold, the forge’s interior was a spacious temple that stole sound with its majesty. The snow covered the grounds near the chimney chutes, open gateways, and near holes in the ceiling, but the rest of the workshop had been left exposed.

Bare from the beginning, it lost no luster or glory in ten thousand years of abandonment. Burnished copper, iron, gold, and more coated the walls, floor, and ceiling in intricate lattice work patterns. The statues were adorned with oversized suits of armor that matched the ones we liberated from the Palace’s armory, but with far more adornments of gems: beryl, pearl, and opal pale studded barrel plates, vambraces, grieves, and boots like kings of Earth could only dream of Diamonds, rubies, gold, and more wreathed iron peytrels, helmets, and spears and swords gripped in unmoving hooves, gleaming bright in the light spells cast by our party.

Then there was the forge itself. It cut the vast space in three parts, taking up the majority of the center. On either side, smaller workstations, forges, anvils, tool sets, unfinished works of armor and weapons, tools, and construction materials lay where their masters had set them down before their doom, never to pick them back up. Carts full of ore had been pushed against the low circular forges, ready for processing. Many more empty carts stood quiet on tracks, awaiting their duty and cargo.

‘This is more than a forge. This is a temple. To what, to whom, we may never know, but this was where the changelings of ages past made their proudest works…’

“They were cut down by the hundreds,” I whispered, my voice carrying across the empty hall.

Savage rends, gashes, and blown-out walls littered the sacred space. Spellfire had scorched many walls and floors black, crystalizing where the dark magic coalesced. Many of the completed suites of armor had been ripped to shreds, punctured and cut through, and sorted by the dozens in one of the corners. Beside the tomb of hundreds of suits, broken spears and swords lay in neat lines.

The archaeologists had cleared the remains of an ancient massacre from this hall. Nothing had remained, nothing save for the armor and weapons where the ancient heroes fell. Here, in a room that held more glory and splendor than I had ever seen on Earth, and would never see again until I stepped hoof in Canterlot’s Palace. Here, where the greatest works of an entire civilization were forged into being. Here, where hundreds fought for everything they knew and were cut down by the Nightmares that must have flooded the city.

“They were cut down in the thousands,” Luna corrected me. Her eyes scanned the room, picking out details that I missed in my reverence, “Look there. And across that wall. And these gashes across the metal grate beneath our hooves. These were directed attacks. This is… this is not just a slaughter, it was a battlefield. That workstation right there, that was a holdout. This main thoroughfare, a killing ground. That gate right there– blown inwards– a bulwark fallen.”

I twirled around, following her hoof as she pointed out each and every detail. In my mind, the phantom sounds of ringing anvils and the hiss of molten metal were dashed away, replaced with the clattering of swords and spears, the crying of the dying, and the wicked hellfire of spells.

“This was a last stand,” I realized, feeling my chest starting to hurt. “The guards of Nisir made their stand here– not the Palace! This is their tomb! But… why? Why here?!”

“Noling knows,” Pharynx answered, stepping forward to admire an even gash through the stone, as deep as a pony’s foreleg. “This was the only large battlefield we found. Everywhere else… the guards died in squads. But here? Hundreds.”

“Thousands,” Luna corrected him, slowly spinning around as she gazed at the chaos.

Pharynx grunted, “We recovered over three hundred sets of destroyed armor–”

“Thousands of souls met their end here!” Luna insisted. “The fights– the battles– the sheer destruction speaks of no fewer!”

“... Then where are the rest?” Naper asked. “Prince Pharynx is correct, we’ve positively identified the equipment for five hundred thirty-two soldiers.”

I felt a chill stab through my body as I spoke the words, “They marched to the Crystal Empire. He took them, all of them.”

Pharynx squinted at me, “What do you mean?”

“The Third Hive… The Nightmare there, The Prophet, he commanded a legion of the dead. Hundreds of skeletons rose to unlife, with the sole intent of killing us.”

Naper glanced at the stacked ruined sets of armor, “All the armor sets we found in here were completely destroyed.”

“There was nothing left for their users to be reanimated,” I hissed. “That bastard!” I stomped, ringing the metal track underhoof, “He slaughtered the people of Nisir and used their corpses as soldiers in his army of Nightmares!”

“What?!” A new voice gasped from the door.

I turned to see Sting leading a large group of changelings and ponies inside. I stood up straighter, burying the hatred and fear as I addressed them.

“This is the final resting place of Nisir’s finest. This forge complex was where the changelings made their last stand.”

“We knew there was a fight here,” Sting nodded as everyone filed in. “But a last stand? As in, for the entire city?”

Luna chimed in, “It has been eons since I’ve seen a battlefield of such caliber. Of this, I am certain.”

“Why would they fight here and not the Palace?” One of the new drones asked.

The changelings and ponies were caught between bowing to me and Luna and discussing the new disturbing finding amongst themselves.

‘We are standing in history. This room, this building, witnessed so much and stood for so long… It feels thick around me, like I’m swimming in water. With a nudge, I push away someone’s last moments. I turn my head and catch a glimpse of a heroic sacrifice. I know my drones and the ponies here are professionals and carefully cataloged every detail before moving the armor, but… Recolonization has never felt so wrong.’

“... This isn’t why we were brought here,” another pony mumbled.

“No, it isn’t,” I agreed, turning back to Naper. “We will have to leave questions for later. We have so much to learn about Nisir’s last day. What was it that brought us here, Naper?”

“The, uh… forge,” he said quietly, staring at the archived armor sets. “Sting…”

Sting hurried over, “We are ready to restart the forge, My King. This place used to forge iron primarily, with one central forge dedicated to Adamantium. Naper is suggesting we may need to consider studying the room with our new understanding.”

“It is important to have a full study of any archeological sites…” I agreed, trailing off. “You all did your duty, did you not? Every item cataloged, every detail recorded, pictures taken, videos recorded?”

Sting looked up at me, “Yes, King Phasma. We are ready to begin forging as soon as possible. Shall we proceed?”

“But we may need to reexamine certain finds!” Naper insisted.

The two started bickering, and a slight shrug from Luna told me that she had no opinion on the matter.

‘Restarting the forges. A nice gesture, a symbol for starting anew. But is it worth compromising the forge’s ancient battleground? We’ve already cleared out most of it… What are we ultimately gaining from the forge being fired up today?’

I looked past everyone, towards a pair of open doors at the far end. The sealed gate to the Underhive lay beyond, illuminated with the lamps that were cropping up around the city. Its new makeshift center faintly glowed purple with arcane energy.

‘There’s no telling how strong the temporary seal is. If we can reforge the Adamantium door, we can safely secure the main entrance to the deep. I’d rather not have this place go the way of Moria, but that means ensuring that the colony isn’t slaughtered.’

“What do we do, King Phasma?” One of the drones called out, ending the small arguments that had cropped up.

As all eyes turned to me, I answered, “Safety is our number one priority. The temporary seal on the Underhive entrance may eventually prove itself not up to the task, and the entrance is too large to collapse safely. Nisir is to start repairs on the gate immediately. The forges shall be brought to life and the Fifth Hive will station no less than two hundred of its finest monster hunters on guard, to protect everyone against enemies below… and above.”

“As you command,” Sting bowed deeply.

“Pharynx,” I addressed the Prince. “You will pick out the best warriors for this assignment.”

“Most of them are already in your little cooperation project with the Royal Guard,” he pointed out.

“Then pick the next best.”

“As you command,” he said, half-heartedly. “But I don’t need to be here to do that.”

I was growing increasingly uncomfortable with the idea of this place not having a heavy-hitter such as a royal or an alicorn. But with Pharynx throwing in the towel, there simply was no choice but to accept this.

“Now. With that settled, it is time to breathe life into this old forge once more. Sting, Naper, let’s get this ball rolling.”

The main control room was stationed right next to the doors we came in through, sitting high and overlooking the whole forge. It seemed frivolous and useless in the grand scheme of things, but perhaps whoever was in charge of this clearly-considered holy place wanted a clear view of every workstation. The controls themselves consisted of one large panel at the front of the room, sitting in the middle of a wall-sized window out into the workshop. Levers, smashed and faded gems, and a few unidentified contraptions were torn to shreds. Whoever had died here long ago had put up one hell of a fight.

“– lava pools beneath the city. From our magical scans, it seems that the whole mineshaft into the Underhive is surrounded by the magma,” Naper was explaining. “A nice, warm space, wrapping around the shaft and keeping it snug.”

“Like a moat?” I suggested.

“Precisely!” He beamed. “We can’t tell how thick the mineshaft walls are, or if there are magical protections keeping them secured against the magma cavern. None of us dare to breach the temporary seal to get a better look, so our initial scans are all the info we have.”

Luna looked out into the forge by my side, “And the warrens that the changelings inhabited do not intersect with this lava cave?”

“They all seem to end at least halfway into that empty area between the outer ring and the three central circles,” Sting offered. “Long before approaching the magma.”

“Deeply penetrating scanner spells suggest the presence of canals throughout that would channel the magma underneath the city,” Naper continued explaining. “Your Majesty is welcome to try his own deep penetrating spells, if he wants to see for himself…?”

“Yeah you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” I said under my breath. “I wonder if that’s a system to heat up the entire city. What are the odds of us flooding the warrens with lava if this pump system works? Surely in ten thousand years breaches would have formed due to earthquakes and shifting rock.”

“It is very likely,” one of the ponies, a geologist, chimed in from the crowd at the back of the room.

“You said it yourself,” Pharynx told me, “the Adamantium gate must be reforged as soon as possible. If we lose a few tunnels, then so be it.”

“So be it,” I agreed. “I am ready to begin.”

Sting levitated over a large scroll, placing it before me on the control panel.

“Here’s the ceremony Chrysalis uses for the Fourth Hive’s forge. The instructions are written between the passages. Pull those three levers on the left side, twist that knob, and push the red ruby on the right side. That turned the pumps on in our test run.”

“... They had big red buttons ten thousand years ago?” I asked, eyebrows raised as I stared at the gargantuan ruby.

“Big red buttons?” she echoed.

“Nevermind. Electricity stuff,” I dismissed her. “Another hallmark of civilization, I guess. Farming, religion, permanent settlements, and big red buttons… Roll cameras!”

Behind me, two separate teams of changelings and ponies turned massive camera units on. Film rolls clicked as they churned, the devices quietly thrummed to life. One pony, wearing a headset, gave me a nod. I turned back to the panel and scroll, scooting a large, old-timey ring-and-spring microphone closer to me.

Gently, I picked up the large scroll, and slowly unfurled it, falling to my haunches so I could use both forehooves. Clearing my throat, I read the words loudly for everyone to hear.

“By the grace of Panarthropo, Weaver of the known universe, under the aspect of creation, I, King Phasmatodea of the Fifth Hive, Pontiff of the Hive Eternal, consecrate this forge!”

I paused, pulling the three levers on the left side. Alone both sides of the forge, small hatches ground open as steam escaped into the air.

“Let her hoof guide our hammers. Let her voice inspire greatness. Let her will be done, here and now, forever and always!”

Turning the dial, the floor beneath our hooves began to rumble. Massive metal gears began to turn along the walls. Belts wrapped gears shook to life, straining under pressure as they moved. A few snapped, the renewed strain proving too much for whatever ancient, enchanted material they were made from. One set of gears creaked loudly before tipping to the side and falling off entirely from the wall. Yet overall, the entire forge slowly began to come to life.

“We thank the Goddess for the bounty she has provided. We honor the sacrifices made to bring it to our anvil. And now, we shall reshape the heavens. As it is woven, so it shall be!”

I gave the big red button a dramatic slam, the ruby clicking as it was pushed into a recessed position. Great sluice gates ground open, rusty metal flaking as they scraped against their guards. The glow came first; distant, growing in luminosity, and unmistakable orange. When the molten rock emerged, it flowed slowly, pushed along by the magma pumped up behind it.

It flowed freely into thin channels into the stone paths, splitting off into the side forges. Each forge began to glow yellow and orange as the molten rock began to pool in the metal and stone vats. The white light given off by the lamps mixed with the orange, red, and yellows of the lava, bathing the forge in a flickering spectrum of warm colors.

“The Great Weaver dwells in all realms. May she dwell within our great works once more!”

And for the first time in ten thousand years, the forges of Nisir roared to life.