Editing The Gathering of The Promise (section)

==Fraternal Cooperation==

[[Song of the Silver Wind]] whispered, "Is this what Malfeas is like?"

Protected by a friendly sylph from the worst effects of the heat, Rivers Between Us still sweated as he looked about the sanctum.  It was a barren plain, dark as a starless night, where even the soil was an ashen black.  The only illumination came from the blood of the earth, for as far as the eye could see the ground was cracked like mud flat baked by the sun, and in those cracks pulsing maga flowed.

The only landmark on the plain was the brothers, and they were working as they always worked.

[[The Ravages of Time]] wielded a spade as broad as two men standing side by side and equally as tall.  He drew the wide blade behind him and suddenly it was full.  In the dim light, Rivers could scarcely see what was in the spade, but he thought he saw a few vague shapes in the heap: broken children's toys, a half eaten skull, a torn flag, a window frame.  He threw this heap into the crucible, a bowl eight paces across settled into the magma plain.  As the weight filled the bowl, ribbons flame jetted from beneath the sides of it and a fresh wave of heat washed over the Lawgivers.

[[Spring's Inevitable Betrayal]], the taller of the two, though thinner, lifted one hand pulled down the edge of the bowl.  A thin trickle of light, blindingly white, poured from it's lip into a trough, flowing down into a stone mold in the shape of a straight sword.  Almost immediately the god flipped the mold onto the anvil and began hammering.

Rivers looked at his companion and waggled his eyebrows meaningfully.  Song stepped forward.

"Excuse me, sirs.  Allow me the honor of introducing myself.  I am Song of the Silver Wind, chosen of the Unconquered Sun, and this is my companion, Rivers Between Us."

The Ravages of Time drew back his spade, and it was full once more.

"We have come to ask for your assistance.  A sword must be forged to unite the Murakan and defend the Mandate of Heaven.  Will you assist us?"

Spring's Inevitable Betrayal finished the sword and tossed it, still smoking, into a trough of water.  It still gleamed white.

"Err... what is it that you are forging today, brothers?"

As he tilted the bowl to fill the mold, the tall one spoke.  "Conviction."

"Ah.  Excellent.  Good stuff."

"I do not see the value, only the work.  And there is much work."

"More than usual?"

"Not since the end of the first age has there been so much in need of forging.  This new age will mean the end of many things, and from those things many new things shall be forged."

The shorter one stepped torwards them, and as he did his appearance became visible in the blood-light.  He was squat and thick as his spade, with a flat, manlike face and two eyes covered in milky cataracts.  His greasy apron was the only clothing he affected, and it only partially concealed a mortal wound that began at his shoulder and extended deeply through his chest, nearly cutting him in half.  It was ragged, but did not bleed.

"Who needs our aid?"  His voice was thick as bubbling pitch.

Rivers stepped forward.

In a single swift motion the god plunged his spade into the sorcerers chest.  Rivers looked down in horror at the blade, shrunk to merely a hands-breadth across, as The Ravages of Time drew it out again.  On the blade four small jewels glittered, of varying size and color.  He picked at them with one finger while Rivers stood paralyzed.

"No good.  Too soft.  You only half believe in the cause and you've no stomach for real battle.  The sword would be a waste."

The god stepped forward and pinched the copper spider's nose, pulled open his mouth, and tossed the gems down his throat.  Rivers swallowed with a painful sob, then shouted, "I know!  It's not for me.  Nameless Ravine!  He is our general, the son of an immaculate and defender of righteousness."

The god looked at his taller brother.  "What say you, Sib?"

"I remember him, Rot.  He's a pissant, but with a little tempering, some heat and pressure, he could do it.  He needs a sword, though."

"Right,"  Rivers panted.  "A new age needs a new leader, a new sword."

Song stepped forward.  "It's settled then."  The four placed their hands together, and the agreement was made.  A sword to end the Age of Sorrows would be forged.