Tenebroum spent more and more time in the well of darkhat had been Bckwater. Now that Abenend had fallen, there was little point in being anywhere else. At night, it would still leave briefly or take to the eyes of its watchers, which were nothing more than zombified owls that had been givera eyes so they could see even more clearly in the darkness. This was so that it could gaze upon the moon and bask in the certainty that one day, the ey of her fine white surface would grow dark.

  What would happen after that? It wasn’t sure.

  Would the thing vanish or die? Would it have tle whatever foul creature was born from her corpse in its crib lest it bee a rival? The Lich could not say, but even if the method of assassination birthed new challeenebroum would still be happy to see her go.

  The Moon Goddess was even more slippery and elusive than Oroza, and it had learned more about her from the souls of the mages it had devoured than everywhere else bined. A minority of those very souls seemed to think that magic might cease to exist when she did, but most of them thought that it would simply grow more dangerous for mortals to use without her purifying light.

  The Lich was very skeptical that anything could snuff magic out in a single day. It was a natural force that permeated everything, but even so, it had begun to stock extra essen its dread ring just in case things should go awry.

  Still, these tiny excursions were no different than the way a farmer might sit on his pord watch the su or a noble would stand at his window and watch his serfs toiling away. They were a reward for a hard day’s work, and the Lich was toiling now night and day.

  Well, at least its servants were. The dead city of stantinal, on the far side of the Wyrmspire mountains to the north, might be sving away to build an eide of war zombies for all the battles to e. The desert kingdoms had fallen without much fighting, but initial reports suggested that would not be the case even further to the north.

  All that had done, however, was free up the fleshcrafters and the feweights of Bckwater to do other things. Those other things, at least sihe fall of Rahkin, had been to make sure that it never faced humiliation otlefield again.

  The Lich loathed being forced to take the field at all. It was demeaning that it should ever have to do so, but the only way to prevent that iure would be to make more powerful servants. As much as it loathed the idea of being forced to take ons into its own hands and fight its enemies, it hated the idea of giving any of its minions enough power to rival a god even more, for obvious reasons.

  So, day after day and week after week, its most clever creators hammered rare metals and stitched together alchemically treated leathers to create new forms that were optimized for all future sarios that it could imagihis was something it had worked on long before now, even before its first god-syer form had been finalized. Still, most of these had not made the cut.

  Even a few years ago, it had only a few different corpses it could wear on the field of battle should the need arise. In addition to its preferred form, there were a few rger versions of simir designs. One had been built like a six-legged taur to favor speed as much as anything else; it had been given four arms so it could fire poison arrows from two different long bows simultaneously, but the Lich had never gotteo the gait. There were a few flying forms, but all of them were tile for its liking, and it doubted it would ever find the o wear them.

  Of all its early forms, only the chorus had stood out as truly u, too, was terribly fragile, but the ability to sing in the voices of a dozen dead casters wearing a body clothed in the faces of the dead was a terribly powerful thing. Sorcery, as the humans preferred to use it in the heat of battle, involved one man ting a words, but the Lich found that too stifling.

  It generally preferred to show up otlefield with every are triva expected to need already ented into objects and ons, ready to be used. Though this option was less flexible, the results were generally much more powerful. Ihese triumphs of darkness had bee so onpow that frost bdes were regurly handed out to its most powerful death knights to make them even more fearsome.

  This did have the disadvantage of leaving it unprepared for certain situations, though. A chorus of bound mages could summon a twister or two or even rain fire or disease down on its enemies before their vocal cords frayed or their minds gave out.

  That was why, thanks to Brother Verdenin’s inspiration, it was having a staff that funed on the principles of a pipe an crafted. The priest had issioned a rge version of that strange instrument to be built in the inner sanctum, and over the st year after much effort it had finally been structed. It was evehan the ohat had existed and Siddrimar, though all of the notes were tuwo octaves lower, and most of the hymns were pyed in minor scales with ft keys instead of the sharper ohat the Lord of Light’s worshipers had preferred.

  It still wasn’t as beautiful as it should have been, but the sound of its terrible low notes could be heard a almost anywhere in the ir at this point, which the Lich found to be quite pleasing, especially when a choir filled with men and women who had each had their vocal cords surgically altered so that they could sing only a sie, sang in apao it.

  Brother Verdinan had vowed to rip out his eyes ohe uemple was plete, and the giant brass pipes were fully decorated and engraved with all the words of the scriptures of darkness, “because after that, he never o gaze on anything less perfect again.”

  This pleased the Lich, too. It had already decided that when the man died, it would bind the high priest’s soul to the an so that it could sing the Lich’s praises for the rest of time. That was the only fitting reward for a man who had spread his fervor to so many.

  Even more important than the man’s devotion or the stream of missionaries he was sending north to preach the truth of the darko the benighted desert kingdoms and beyond, though, were the meics of how that musical instrument worked. It was ohing to have it pying soothing melodies at a volume that might deafen anyone who waoo close to the main chapel oain days, but it would be something else to use it as a on of war.

  The e was a sort of music box hidden ihe golden skulls that topped the staff. There were five of them, each from a dead woman or child. They had all been gilded and fixed in such a way so that when the elemental fire and water that were hidden iaff itself were mixed, the ensuing steam would boil up and fore or more of them to screech the words of a spell at a volume suffit for the mages that were bound itle devices to unleash havo demand.

  It still wasn’t a perfect solution, but it was a flexible one, and it doubted that any enemy could anticipate su odd neon that might be wielded by any of its bodies. However, other than cheg on the Lunaris’s failih and making progress in the slow work of undermining the All-Father, all that Tenebroum did most days was swirl through the darkness of its own hive, iing the craftsmanship of the various vessels that were in produ for imaginary fights, and nameless future enemies.

  It would be ready, no matter what it faced. Tenebroum had promised itself that.

  All of these abominations tained a golden core to hold as much of its grand, swirling soul as possible, but that was where the simirities ended. Past that, eae was uhe most ret corpse to have been pleted for it was built so that it could not be ambushed, and topping its seven-armed form of imperfect radial symmetry was a of eyes that looked in all dires at onbsp;

  It was nothing special, though. Not when pared to the spidery body that could unch alchemical webbing that was as sticky as it oisonous, or the aquatic body that it some day hoped to hunt down Oroza with. It was the evidehat he had not fotten about her and that wheime was right, it would devour her whole so she could never escape again. Truthfully, her disobedience deserved much greater punishment than that, but it would be self-indulgent to ensve her to some menial task iuity, just to risk her escape a sed time so that it might make her suffering worse.

  All of these forms were just the tip of the iceberg, though. It had built a gilded skeleton that could be used just like Krulm’venor’s multiplying goblin form, though because it feared what a copy of itself might do if allowed to get free, it had ested it before. Still, should the need arise, it could bee a hundred-fold army all on its own, so it would never o fear that another army might try to ambush it.

  Most of its forms were more practical than that, though. One had been made to be entirely fireproof for obvious reasons, while several were built to withstand ever-increasing amounts of light, corrosion, or force. By trast, some were built to radiate heat, cold, or even disease. More than one was only a tainer and an anchor for the army of shadows that it could unleash to devastating effebsp;

  Eae was beautiful in its own terrible way. It even had some forms built solely for aesthetic reasons in case it ever wished to graortal kingdom in person for diplomatic reasons. Those had beeed long ago, though, and it thought that trying to cater to such lesser beings now would be embarrassing. Instead, it decided it might split the Voice of Reason’s soul the same way it had doh the Dark Paragon upon her return and turn those bodies of gold and ivory to other purposes.

  That was why all but the rgest bodies now decorated the uemple and the area around it. In alcoves between mosaid on plinths above, the parishioners below they stood there like humanity often did with saints. Each vessel was just another aspect of Tenebroum, though, which was entirely fitting given the character of the worship it demanded. It was a jealous god, and it would never accept another as ally or enemy.

  Only the rgest bodies were stored elsewhere. To date, the rgest one was a draiade in homage to the s dragon that had served it so faithfully and for so long. Its bckbirds had found the partial skeleton of another long-dead drake, and its workers had bored tirelessly to create a body using those magnifit parts. It still didn’t fly, of course. Of all the magics out there, flight was the trickiest, and you had to give up so much to obtain it. Even so, each scale had been runed and warded, and in time, when it decided which terrible breath on to install, it would be a force to be reed with.

  Taken as a whole, the Lich was tent. If it was ever forced to fight again, it would certainly have the right on for the job.

  Author's Note:

  As you all know, I mentioned some troubles with my Tenebroum unch. Two weeks ago, the paperback released, st week the audiobook released, but LAST NIGHT amazon finally agreed that I am allowed to publish my own book on kindle. So, if you want to pick book 1 up digitally, you find it here.

  This final draft is 15% lohan the inal version, and it's a lot more polished. No major events ge, obviously, but it foreshadows future events better and gives some of the cooler moments more space to breathe. I'd love it if you gave it a shot!