"The sun rises and sets," Regg said. "So be it. I will lead."
Cale noticed the cold first, an unearthly frigidity that settled in his bones and chilled him to his core. Wind assaulted his ears, the sound the anguished howl of a trapped animal as it surrendered to death. He pulled his cloak tight as the darkness that had brought them dissipated.
"Ephyras," Rivalen said, glancing around.
They had materialized on the decaying corpse of a world. Black, barren earth with the consistency of sand stretched out in all directions for as far as he could see. Dry gullies cut deep, jagged lines in the dead earth but he saw no water to form them. The wind blew up dust cyclones here and there, little black spirals that frolicked on the grave of the world before losing their coherence and collapsing. If there had ever been vegetation on Ephyras, Cale saw no sign; it had long ago dried out and crumbled away.
The air smelled faintly of ancient decay, like the memory of rot. Long ribbons of shadow floated through the air, squirming in the wind like worms. A tiny, exhausted red sun hung in the sky, ringed by a collar of absolute black. Its wan, bloody light made no real attempt to light the world, merely colored it in a hue that hinted at slaughter.
As Cale watched, the darkness ringing the sun expanded slightly, reducing its glowing core to an even smaller circle. The darkness was choking off the sun.
"Dark," Cale oathed.
The dimness of the light allowed him to see stars twinkling faintly in the black-gray vault of the sky, appearing and disappearing behind the long columns of ink-black clouds that streaked across the heavens. Cale did not recognize any of the constellations. Lightning flashed now and then, long, jagged bolts of green that seemed to stretch from horizon to horizon, as if they ringed the world.
The sight of it all caused an ache in Cale's head, made him dizzy. He felt pressure building in his ears, numbness in his extremities, then realized of a sudden that his feelings had nothing to do with the sight of a dying world. Something was wrong.
He turned to Riven and Rivalen but his body answered him awkwardly and he stumbled and nearly fell to the black earth. He felt heavy, dulled. He grabbed at Riven's cloak, tried to speak, but found his mouth stuffed with cloth, his lips numb.
The expression on Riven's face suggested the assassin was experiencing a similar feeling. He staggered backward, out of Cale's grip, and slumped to the ground. Cale's legs failed him and he, too, fell. He hit the ground on all fours, collapsed, rolled onto his back in a bed of dead earth on a dead world looking up at a dying sun.
The shadows swirled around him, but neither they nor his regenerative flesh could combat the effect. He knew it for what it was. He and Riven had experienced it in the Shadowstorm. Ephyras's air drained life. He should have known.
Clutching his mask, he tried to invoke a protective ward, but his numb lips garbled the words. Rivalen appeared over him, golden eyes staring out of the black clot of his hood. The Shadovar appeared unaffected by the life draining effect of the air, of the world. He must have kept permanent wards on his person.
The shadows around both of them roiled and touched. The prince reached down for him, took him by the arm, and pulled him easily to his feet.
"You need to ward yourself," Rivalen said. "I assumed you had."
The prince intoned a spell and energy flowed into Cale, enough to let him stand on his own feet. He shook off the prince's touch, wobbled, gathered himself, and managed to mouth the words to a ward before Ephyras again stole his strength.
The moment the spell took effect, the numbness began to leave him. He felt his heartbeat return to normal, inhaled a deep breath. He pushed past Rivalen to Riven, kneeled, and cast the same ward on the assassin. Riven's wide eye cleared. He blinked, breathed, sat up with a grunt, and spit.
"Negative energy," Cale said. "Same as the Shadowstorm."
A thought tugged at him, but flitted away before he could pin it down. He stood, pulling Riven to his feet after him.
"How can there be a temple here?" Riven said. "No one could survive."
"It must have been different here, once," Cale surmised. He looked at Rivalen, who surveyed the world as he might his own domain. Shadows leaked from him in long strands.
"Rivalen?" Cale asked. "What happened here?"
Rivalen seemed not to have heard him.
Cale started to ask again, but Rivalen spoke, awe in his tone.
"Another Shadowstorm is what happened here."
The words took Cale unawares. He and Riven shared a look.
Rivalen's hand went to the black disc at his throat, a symbol not unlike the one Riven wore, a symbol eerily reminiscent of the dying sun and the black collar choking it to death.
"In the darkness of night," Rivalen said. "We hear the whisper of the void."
Cale felt chilled. "How can there be another Shadowstorm?"
"There are many worlds," Rivalen said, his voice distant, the shadows around him dark. "Ephyras is older than Toril. Here, the Lady has already triumphed."
"Triumphed?" Riven asked.
Cale thought of Sembia, of Faerun, of all of Toril. "You're telling us that the Shadowstorm withers a world, and kills its sun?"
"And more still," Rivalen said, his voice the disconnected utterance of a man in a trance. "Nothingness is the end. Soon Ephyras will be gone entirely. Annihilated."
Cale echoed the word, said it softly, the way he might a blasphemy. "Annihilated."
He found himself looking at the dust, the death, the darkness, wondering if there were still more worlds that Shar had killed. He supposed there must be. She was responsible for the deaths of millions.
"There were people here," he said, not a question.
Rivalen made no comment, though the shadows around him whirled.
"Dark and empty," Riven oathed. "A whole world? A whole world."
"All worlds die in time," Rivalen said. "In time, all existence ends."
"How can you look upon this and offer prayers?" Cale asked. He took the prince by the shoulder, pulled him around to face him.
Rivalen's eyes flashed. He took Cale by the wrist, for a moment they tested one another's strength, but determined nothing. They released one another and Rivalen stared into his face.
"How can you not feel awe as you watch a sun die?"
The shadows around Cale swirled. "Death does not awe me. Death is easy."
"You are broken, Shadovar," Riven said, contempt in his words. He advanced to stand beside Cale.
Rivalen stared at Cale, at Riven. "I acknowledge the truth that the fate of all worlds, of all of existence, will be the same as Ephyras. Is that broken?"
"You don't acknowledge it," Cale said. "You elevate it to an article of faith. You worship it."
"That is broken," Riven said.
The shadows around Rivalen whirled, as if stirred by the wind. "We are here because I wish to stop the Shadowstorm on Toril. To prevent this." His gesture took in Ephyras.
"And I cannot figure that out," Cale said.
Riven eyed the Shadovar, and said to Cale. "I trust him about as far as his blood will spray when I cut his throat."
Rivalen leaned forward, his golden eyes ablaze. He towered over the assassin. "If I wished you dead, you would already be so. Do you think there is anything that I would do that you could thwart?"
Riven had both sabers free in a heartbeat. "Why don't we find out?"
Cale shook his head. "Why stop it, Rivalen? This is what your goddess strives for."
Cale's question diffused the tension between Riven and Rivalen. The Shadovar prince stepped back and said, "My reasons are my own."
"Not good enough," Riven said.