[Hereford Eye]

Caverns unlit, caverns barely lit afford momentary hiding places while the general’s squads storm up and down the lower places looking for the Koldred, more afraid for the moment of the certainty of the general’s wrath. Well, any true Gnarled Folk soldier could deal with the general’s wrath; he’s only a general after all and generals come and go. But the power behind this general gives added impetus to his orders. Not one member of the six squads running up down the caverns wishes to confront the presence.

The Koldred manage to reach the levels of the presence before they must show their progress. The good news is that general cannot operate too openly beyond this point. Loyal forces will be strewn here and there in the upper passages making it more difficult for the rebel forces to conduct their business.

At this level, the Koldred discover a squad they cannot avoid. Twelve Gnarled Folk stand or kneel in the passage fully intent on preventing any passage upwards. Those kneeling are moving their blades back and forth to the front at about 1 foot above the ground in a pattern that shares ground covered between the dwarves. There is no cadence to the movement. Each moves in a rhythm peculiar to its own mind making it impossible for the Koldred to time an attack, even at their increased speed.

When one tires or when the leader feels it to be time, a kneeling soldier is replaced by one of those waiting in the second rank. The replacement is random enough to also prevent the Koldred from taking advantage of the time it takes to move the person into the kneeling ranks. This squad leader knows his business.

He also knows the Earl’s daughter when he sees her and knows that she recognizes him as well. He was a late arrival, though, unaware that the presence also seeks Harsh. His orders are to capture or kill the Koldred. He assumes it is because they killed some of his comrades and that is enough reason for him to commit himself to the task. The sight of Harsh marching up the tunnel is of little concern to him. “Steady, lads,” he orders his squad. “Keep your paces with those blades. The Koldred could be anywhere and we might not know it.”

The Koldred have hung back, watching Harsh stumble forward, hoping for a diversion they can exploit.

Harsh rumbles up the tunnel, almost stepping on a blade before she seems to notice anything at all. “What’s this?” she asks, her manner indicating complete detachment from the world around her. Gravel, the squad leader, tells his team to hold steady. “You see any Koldred, Young Miss?” he asks.
“You do not want to know what I have seen, Gravel. I do not want to know but I cannot erase it from memory.”
Gravel is not dense; he immediately surmises Harsh has had an encounter with the presence and he sympathizes with her plight. “Ah, Young Miss, you have no business dealing with the likes of that. Your sire should have kept you from it.”
“My sire knows?” there is wonder in her voice.
“O’ course not, Young Miss, the time has not yet come for him to know. He should just keep you close where he can protect you.”
“I want to be close to him,” Harsh agrees. “That’s where I’m going now.”
“You need to wait, Young Miss. I have to keep this passage closed. Can’t be letting anyone through.”
“How long?”
“Can’t rightly say, Young Miss. We’ll be here till the job is done.”
“What job?”
“Stopping some Koldred folk from getting back up the tunnels.”
“I have to wait for that?” Harsh is incredulous one moment and then sitting on the cavern floor sobbing the next. No Gnarled One can long abide the sight of a crying woman, particularly a young woman. The swords droop, the soldiers mutter but Gravel orders them back to alert. “Keep them blades moving, lads. Keep them moving now.”
Harsh sobs. The soldiers' muttering takes on an edge.
“Ah, well, then, lads. We don’t see no Koldred folk about, now, do we? Let’s let the girl through and then get back to our business.”
Three soldiers stand and make a passage. Another stands and helps Harsh to her feet and then escorts her through the line. Harsh has barely cleared the entrance when a blur streaks up the corridor, splitting in two as it approaches the young dwarf.

Tari and Tuli each grab a leg, hoisting Harsh onto their shoulders and continue sprinting up the cavern.

“Ah, shite, lads. Now we’ve done for it. That was them, you know. Ain’t no point in remaining here and I have no desire to report back to his lordship, the general. Have no wish to join the presence. You lads do what you think best. Me, I’m about to apologize real sincere to the Earl and hope he needs my help bad enough to accept it. Y’er all welcome to come with me, but you lads do whatever you feel you must.”
It was a long speech for Gravel to have uttered. His words sank deeply into his squad’s consideration but the sight of him running after the now vanished Koldred and Harsh was the greater spur. It less time than it takes to think it, the entire squad is streaking up the tunnel hoping for redemption but preferring whatever might await in the Lower Realm to what certainly awaits with the general and the presence.

[Holbrook]

George had survived, his friend had not, many had not. Metal kept the creatures at bay. Strong doors of metal and walls of stone. Beyond the hope of many. Villages vanished. Or took to living in the hall of their Squire.

For George, living ws not enough. He took the fight, organised, prepared. The creatures were hard to kill and were aware, George swore they were. As he prepared he listened, to old wives tales and legends.

It fitted so much fitted with tales of the end of everything and the beginning of something. George prepared and waited. He was a good second in command, he could put into detail the ideas of leaders.

George waited for a leader, he knew one would come he had heard talk and looked to High Peak.

A squad of men tried to push there way with familes making there way into the hall. The Earl had summoned and the familes came.

The men breasted the gates and screamed as one. Pain racked, their bodies twisting, they came under the eyes of loyal captains. The were questioned as they screamed. Words bitten off, sharp, brutal. Their betrayal outlined for all to hear. And their repentence. As they asked to be forgiven as they spoke of Harsh and two fast swirling figures the pain in thier limbs vanished.

"Loyal men now..." Anna said softly.

"Till death." Lucas added.

"My daughter!!!" The Earl screamed as the child appeared before the gates.

[Hereford Eye]

The crowd in the Earl’s chambers continued buzzing at the extraordinary events unfolding. A ‘thing’ in the caverns? Disgruntled Gnarled Folk? Harsh returned to safety by the Koldred. The woman Anna, all huffed up with self-importance and her man deferring to her. Harsh part of some grand scheme? A teenager? A girl?
Harsh ought to be crying in relief or shock but she stands in front of her father to deliver an unemotional account of recent events, what she has seen, what she felt, what she thinks it all means. She thinks it means she has played her part, fulfilled the prophecy. She had not started out to accomplish such an enormous task but the enormity of what befell seems, in her mind, the fulfillment of all she knew of the prophecy.
She thanks the Koldred for her rescue, freely admitting to all in the room that she had been of marginal use in the trip up the caverns. Without the aid of the wee folk, she might now be in the hands of the foul being lurking below.
The debrief goes on for quite some time, each answer breeding new question. Through it all, Harsh stands tall and straight, unflinching in the probable assessment she perceives must come from her foolishness in following her father down the caverns. Her surprise, when the Earl stands to recognize her accomplishment, threatens to bring tears that her adventure could not.
The Earl stands behind her, hands resting on her shoulders, and they are topic of his address. “We Gnarled Folk are not accustomed to laying heavy burdens on our daughter’s shoulders. We might reassess that thinking. Look at the marvels they can accomplish. A few minutes ago, I did not believe there could be some foul demon resting below the Lower Realm. My general and I made the trek to discover that demon. I returned to you convinced the demon is myth. My general did not return and from these reports we know why that is so. I was wrong.
Look who proves me wrong. The outcast, the derelicts, foreigners (he bows to the Koldred) and….my daughter. I dare not deny the veracity of their reports. We need plan a strategy to deal with this danger. And we will.
For now, I give you m daughter, the latest but by no means the least of the Gnarled Folk heroes.”
Applause rings in the Earl’s chambers for long minutes, the Gnarled Folk relieved to cheer rather than face the horror below and the further horror outside their caverns. Harsh stands amidst the acclaim unmoved, certain she did not earn it, further certain she has accomplished no more than prove herself to be a typical child, willful, lacking proper obedience, and terribly certain of the wrongness of her actions. She knows her continued existence is due to the Koldred actions, their bravery, and their skill. When the applause settles, she bows to the Koldred couple, whispering her meager thanks for her life, an action that causes the rafter to once again ring with applause. This time, shouts of Koldred bravery and beauty and such accompany the cheers for Harsh.
Anna stands, approaches Harsh, and wraps her in a loving embrace. Only Harsh hears the terrible words she utters: “Your task has not yet begun, little one. It will not bring this praise, not in your lifetime, but, later, much later, the Gnarled Folk will wonder at the deeds you accomplish.”
Anna withdraws a step from Harsh, and then engages the Earl with her unrelenting gaze and tortured explanations.
“They call it the presence and it is the lesser of two evils we face but face it we must. Preferably, before we take on the horror outside your gates.
We cannot accomplish the task unaided. You are aware of why Lucas and I are here and it is not to build your gates though Lucas has completed that task, as a decent guest in your domain ought to do. Now, we arrive at the true task: the devising and constructing of twin spirit blades. One will deal with presence; one with the horror. Both will cost the lives of the ones inspiring the blades and the ones wielding them.
Four lives must be committed to the defeat of the presence and the horror. Two women must inspire the blades; two other folk must carry them. Before you and brave people volunteer for this task, remember the prophecies.
She who was lost – Harsh – must inspire a blade. It will steal her heart. This is not punishment for what she has accomplished. Do not demean the girl. If anything, what she has accomplished proves her merit as blade spirit.
I too was lost and now found. My spirit also goes into a blade….”
“I think not,” Tari interjects. “You misread your prophecies, madam.”
Shocked at the Koldred’s audacity, Anna whirls to confront her but before the words can explode from her throat, Tari calmly continues: “was it not the Koldred who had been lost for generations? Did you surprise anyone with your presence as we did?
My people suspected Tuli and I had larger roles to play than mere messengers. I see now what they could not. Tuli and I are prepared to do perform our duty as certain as you and Lucas may be.”
Lucas, in the background smiles at Tari’s words but Anna is stunned. Realization of the accuracy of Tari’s assertion sends all breath from the seeress, who ends up seated at Harsh’s feet, her face a picture of sudden realization that all she thought she knew now needs to be re-thought.

[Holbrook]

All are stunned by the words said, by the ideas sparked by the prophecies. Anna sits head in her hands, confused and lost. Lucas moves and squats before her, his hand on her shoulder.

“Things are not always as you see them.” He says partly to her, partly to the others. “This matter of souls, hearts and swords must not be decided in a moment, in a whim, when one is tired and aching. We all need rest,” his eyes roam round those gathered. “If I am to forge these blades, rest I must have a plenty, for I have had little since we came here.”

“You said if…” The Earl’s voice quivered as he put his arm round his daughter.

“There is no if, you have demon in your tunnels, its arms slither over the lower lands and the other….”

“Has always been here, you know that Anna.” Lucas said softly. “It, like its opposite number has been here from the beginning. Sometimes one wins, sometimes the other. This time it is hearts and swords, last time it was spears and souls. The tools just have different names, are forged by either side, used by one or the other against each other. Stolen by one from the other, made by one for the other, it is a game of give, take, turn and turn about. The game is played out and races fall, continue or come into being. It is the way the world grows and challenges those in it.”

“But it is worth fighting?” Tuli asks.

“Yes…” Anna says placing her hand on Lucas’ where it lies on her shoulder. Her eyes look into his as if seeking an answer to a question she does not know.

“Yes, but this time Anna you will not give yourself in the same manner.” Lucas

“You have done this before?” The Koldred say together their faces a mirror of each other. Both feel Anna knows more than she has said.

The Earl too feels this and barks “Tell us all.”

“I have, as much as I remember, I was a ghost….”Anna’s words falter and she trembles. Lucas goes down on his knees and pulls the woman into his arms, shushing her. He rocks her like a child or lover in need of comfort.

“Yes a ghost Anna, you were a wisp left over from last time. What you had been was scattered in the Arian metal. As I and others worked it in your presence you returned. You know the legends because you were there when they were written; you know what has to be done for your side in this because you were part of it before. You want to finish it this time, for you that is, for you to be released from the cycle like the others that have served. That is way you claimed the right to give your heart to the blade. But you can’t Anna,” Lucas’ voice drops low so only she hears. You can’t give your heart, because it belongs to another, it always has, always will, win, lose or draw, time after time. You are a part of this from the beginning and will be till the sun grows as cold as this mountains’ heart.”

Anna clings to Lucas and allows him to lift her and carry her away to rest. She lies in his arms, sleeps in his arms, dreams in his arms, dreams of the world below the mountain. Speaks in the dreams to George, telling him to guide the people, keep them safe, the worms are the arms of the lesser evil, the thorn in the side, the distraction from the larger foe. She or another will remove the head and the worms will fade….

George wakes from his sleep smiling, plans forming in his head.

Anna’s dreams change, she shifts in her sleep, clinging to the man close to her, half wakes feeling his lips on hers and hearing his voice. “One night lady, one night where we are not what we are, but just two that are one.”

Her answer is yes and is said in the pressure of her lips on his.

[Hereford Eye]

In the caverns beneath the Lower Realm, the temperature is beginning to rise, at least in the rooms where the disgruntled, disillusioned, and displaced Gnarled Folk serve the presence. The news of their discovery spreads as a foul odor from room to room immobilizing folk. No one dares the passages because no one dares to cross paths with the presence.
Six must. The five assigned guard duty for this shift and the general stand in the room where the presence swells and deflates in an unpredictable cycle, as if rage drives his breath and then sanity takes told to be driven out by another surge of raw anger. The hissing, unsettling on normal days, now carries a flavor of unbound rage and not one of the six seeks to draw that focus towards themselves.
Each inspiration of new anger causes the presence to expand to fill the room very nearly driving all air from the small enclosure. There is barely enough warning to allow the six Gnarled Folk to draw breaths before being squashed against a wall by the force of the presence’ expansion. Like a cat playing with dinner, the presence’ moods are not predictable. Sometimes a guard draws enough air, sometimes he gasps for air when the presence finally subsides. The perspiration from this new agony fills the room with an odor just short of that found in the jacks.
After a time, the hiss becomes focus, words are intelligible in the noise, words directed at the general. “You cannot go back?”
“No,” the general agrees. “If I go back I will be arrested and killed. The earl knows about me and my treachery now.”
“You did not capture the girl?”
“We tried; we truly tried. We should have been successful. Do not know how she got back that squad. Should not have happened.”
“You did not punish the incompetents/”
Wryly, the general admits this also to be true. “They knew for certain what their failure meant here in the caverns,” he says.
“Yessss, they would join me for certain.”
“That knowledge causes folk to do things they ought otherwise not do,” the general explains. “Come a point when fear makes a man do strange things.”
“Are you afraid, general?”
The general’s first response is “No!” uttered confidently, proudly. But, the tenor of the message and the sight of the presence beginning to swell once more, not rapidly but very insistently cause him to re-think that answer. “Yes,” he quickly adds, “yes, I am afraid.”
“As you should be, general. After your failures, why do I need you?”
“Because I can command those who remain.”
“Who are afraid of me?”
“Yes, and afraid of me as well.”
“More than they are afraid of me?”
“Well, no, but enough to allow them to take orders.”
“Did you not remark that frightened people do strange things?”
“Yes.”
“And did you not also state the you are frightened?”
“Yes.”
“But you will not do strange things?”
“No, I am your man. You know that. I have done everything you’ve asked and more.”
“No, general, you did not capture the girl. You did not discipline the people you sent to capture the girl. You have made my presence undisputed to the Earl. You have not done everything I have asked you to do.”
The general is not stupid. He would run if he could. The presence expands more swiftly than the general can decide to move. Protests, oaths of fealty, even undying love flow from the general’s mouth with no visible impact on the presence. In good time, the general is absorbed into the presence. While this happens, five guards unobtrusively depart the room and began to run with wild abandon up through tunnels, screaming their warnings as they go. Their departure gathers in its wake every other Dwarf in the area. The presence is at last abandoned. No member of the Gnarled Folk remains.
The presence expands to fill its room, a jubilant hisss flowing from the entity carrying scornful words and defiant exclamation: “I need none. I will join with all. They cannot stand against me.”

[Holbrook]

Anna woke to the sound of voices, shouts, screams curses.She and Lucas looked at each other and knew the night was gone, what had been shared was locked away, not to be acknowledged by either.

The Earl held court, munching on a slice of toasted bread, the butter running onto his chin. Harsh was there, the Koldred.

It is time for choices to be made. Already forge has been set up in the mightly hall. Lucas fires the hearth, preparing the coals, checking tools and picking lengths of Arian metal, selecting which he will work. His eyes against his will look at Anna, he sighs and continues his work.

"Time, " Tuli says.

"Time, " Tari repeats and looks at her fellow Koldred. The rattle of charcoal being added to the forge's hearth and the hiss of the bellows blanket her, making her shudder with a chill, yet sweat with a heat she knows will soon come.

"Father?" Harsh says.

"No.. "The earl snaps.

"Then it is me." Anna says, grasping at the straw offered.

"No!" Lucas almost bellows as his hammer slams on the anvil. "Work the metal I must, but not into your heart, not part of you."

"Then me, " Harsh says her young frame shaking. "I will do it."

"You don't understand." Her father says.

"I understand I saw it...." He words are lost under screams as a soldier, red-faced scrambles into the hall.

"Speak," The earl commands.

"It moves through the tunnels, families gone, expanding..." His words add to the confusion.

"You are out of time." Lucas says softly as he places the first length of metal into the glowing bed of the forge.

[Hereford Eye]

Beneath the snow carpet at the base of High Peak, the Elders sit in random order and fashion. The subtlety of the their organization, though hidden from ordinary Koldred eyes, is as real as the snow above them. Based on the knowledge stored rather than the age of the Elder or the time of their arrival in the Elder ranks, the hierarchy flows from knowledge of the world outside the snow warrens down to the best way to dry wood for a fire.
With each Elder a vital tidbit of lore is kept along with the myriad other facts deemed important enough to commit to limited memory. Each Elder there carries a smattering of prophecy or hard earned wisdom concerning the other races in the world, races whom the Koldred have learned to avoid. Just one Keeper holds the ‘why’ of the Koldred insist on remaining hidden from the other races, a knowledge not accessed for six generations of this Keeper, but now at the forefront of all Elder consciousness.
“We knew when we sent Tari and Tuli to the Gnarled Folk, they would not return.”
“We knew nothing,” the High Keeper responds. “We suspected strongly, strongly enough to alert the two, but none of us nor all of us together know everything.”
“First Law,” several others mumble in agreement.
“Not the time for quibbling over details. This is a time for action.”
‘A new voice enters, speaking with the Voice, repeating hard earned lore: “Koldred are more suited to avoid than confront.”
Another Voice responds “Life is an active process; retreating from the process is death.”
The High Keeper interrupts the incipient competition among the accumulated wisdom of the Koldred. “Let’s not try to outdo one another with our assorted lore. Let’s try to deal with the issue.”
“What is the issue, then?”
“Malliss is the issue.”
A stir spreads through the Elders, astonishment drawing them nearer to the High Keeper. One remembers that Malliss is an ancient enemy; another remembers Malliss defeated before the Koldred moved to High Peak. Still another remembers that Malliss is not easily defeated.
The air turns sour in the Koldred meeting place. Fear runs in small rivulets down a few Elder bodies, curiosity sparkles in the more adventurous eyes, caution in the most experienced eyes, and resolve in the eyes of the High Keeper.
“Malliss lives. Malliss has always lived. Koldred have won the battles but the war continues.”
“That is why we are at High Peak, isn’t it? To avoid the battles?”
”Our Ancients knew the battles were not ended. They simply wanted time to build the Koldred into a force capable of winning the next battle. The last meeting with Malliss was more terrible than most wished to remember.
The Elders of that time committed the memory to the High Keeper to let the Koldred have a time of peace, a time of replenishment. That time is over. Malliss moves again in the world.”
One more timid than the others, more frightened, asks in tremulous tone whether this means war is coming? Others, slightly less timid but perhaps more concerned look to the High Keeper for an answer.
The High Keeper responds with the Voice: “The battle brews, the weapons are being gathered, the assault begins. Look to Koldred to fight but not win. Look elsewhere for the hope of victory.”
A mind quicker than most concludes “than Tari and Tuli are not to be the weapons to save the Koldred.”
The Keeper of the Knowledge of Spirit Swords responds, he who warned Tari and Tuli: “Battles are won in haphazard fashion. What seems logical, b following a, somehow never happens in a battle. Little things twist and turn the conflict. Tari and Tuli have roles to play in saving the Koldred but, if I understand the lore properly, not as the heroes who defeat Malliss. Those roles fall to others, most likely not Koldred at all.”
Nodding agreement with this observation, the High Keeper brings Elder attention back to himself. “Till now, our roles has been to answer questions. Now, we must prompt questions so that our Koldred will want to know and be prepared for what is coming.”
The next few hours are spent in preparing the Elders for their new role.

[Holbrook]

The Presense moves through the tunnels, seeking life, seeking to expunge it. It hisses and slithers. It takes all life in its way, man, woman and child, animal from rat to small insect. By taking life it grows, by growing it becomes more. By being more it believes it cannot be stopped. But stopped it will be, if those now in the Earl's mighty hall find the courage to do so.

The Earl seeks to protect his people, orders are given, This tunnel blocked, that bridge destroyed over this gaping cavern. People and moved, herded this way and that, ever upwards, the hall and surounding area is filled with families. The Earl orderes the Arian gates removed and placed on the main tunnel between where the presence is now and the people.

The Presense rolls against the metal and is rebuffed, thrown back in pain. It's anger explodes, blowing away rock, but still the gates hold it back.

This grim battle has reached a stalemate. The Presense is halted for a while. It needs to find another way forward.

It summons the worms from below the mountain, these are attacked by George's forces. George is a hero, yet even heros need help. Help comes from a strange source. Men and other creatures, clothed in red, with the symbol of Malliss on their chests. The flames, silver flames.

Men battle the frozen earth is blood stained, the cost is bitter, yet there is hope, the worms numbers fall.

As for Lucas, it takes time to forge a blade, each stage must be done with care, working alone, with only basic help from others 5 days. 5 times the sun outside will rise. 5 days to counter the Presense by what means at hand. 5 days for all involved to think on the matter.

Worms are attacked and destroyed again and again, but still many slither over the snow, answering the the Presence's call. George and his men follow, The followers of Malliss follow, but for their own reasons.

The last stage of the forging of the swords grows close, cross pommel and grib are ready to be placed on the blade. Two blades now lie hardening in the flames of the hearth, one small a mere bodkin of a weapon, the other long sleek and light. both await to be plunged into the heart of those that will be their spirit and power.....

[Hereford Eye]

Four sit watching Lucas work his magic in the Arian metal. Their conversation winds around the measured beating of the metal and the breaks Lucas must take to rest his body, his legs working as hard as back and arms. The conversation winds but is directed towards a pair of decisions already known but still disputed.
“Tell me again why I cannot become a spirit in a blade,” Tuli demands. Three women turn on him with equal impatience. In unison, they answer “the prophecy” as if a chorus well rehearsed in its role.
Tuli is not impressed.
“So you say,” he begins, his anger bolstering his words with uncommon bite. “ So you say. But how can you know you have it right? What makes you so overbearingly certain that you have all the answers?”
Anna attempts to be reasonable, her voice a measured counterpart to the fury in Tuli’s questions. “Listen again to the prophecy, Tuli. Tell us what you hear.” Suddenly, silence fills the smithy as each bends forward to hear Anna’s recounting:
“When the future rests in the strength of his hand
His mightiest blade will be needing
Uncommon ingredients, uncommon sand,
And the power of two women bleeding.”
Tuli answers the prophecy with honest disgust. “I hear it say that Lucas needs uncommon ingredients, uncommon sand. I am uncommon and I have sand.”
Harsh jumps in before Anna is able: “But two women bleeding, Tuli. Spirit blades need women bleeding. That’s what I hear.”
It is Lucas who speaks next. “The blades need blood, true. Whose blood is more in question. My understanding of the forging of the blade goes so far as to include the change of a spirit from corporeal to material form. The spirit moves from the person’s body to the sword’s Arian body as their blood washes the sword.”
Anna whirls on the smith, disbelief apparent: “Are you saying the prophecy is wrong?”
Tuli answers for Lucas: “No, he’s saying the last line may not be dealing with the forging of the blades but something else altogether.”
“What else could it be but women’s blood?”
Before Lucas’ voice fills the silence, his hand crosses the space between he and Anna, taking her hand, comforting. “You were wrong about yourself being the spirit indicated for the larger blade, Anna. You could be wrong about the smaller as well.”
Tari, silent thus far, enters now with a bemused quality, as if things long confused are beginning to gel in her mind. “When we carry the blades, Anna, will we not bleed? Can we carry blades holding the lives of those we know and care for and not bleed inside? Every time we feel its weight, draw it and wield it in battle, will we not know who we are drawing and wielding?
“For myself, I do not believe I can. I have known Tuli for many years; we are of the same generation. We were not lovers nor mates, just friends. Yet, now, should he inspire my blade, will I not remember how he stood here today demanding his right to make his own choices? Will I not look at the blade and see the man?
“It is the kind of bleeding most often associated with women, is it not? Women stay home while men go to war as if staying home is the easier of the two roles, as if suffering is not native to any role played in time of war.
I hear the prophecy talk not of who inspires the blades, but who carries them.”
Anna is not yet ready to yield the argument; desperately she repeats the earlier stanzas:
"A lost woman must be found,
An alliance of strangers must be wound.
Before they can steel their hearts
They must steal her heart.
The mightiest blades of them all
Are forged from the smallest of small.”
Even as she finishes her oratory, understanding fills her soul. The first verse refers to Harsh as they have already established; the second to the Koldred rescuing Harsh from the lower caverns. The third is non-specific, applicable to Harsh and either Tari or Tuli. This means the last verse may well be interpreted as Tari suggests.
Anna bows her head in submission. Her role has shifted so drastically from what she expected it to be, she now feels unfit for any role. She expected to tell folk what needs to be done and they would follow her orders because she knew what to do and they did not. She knew the prophecies and they did not. Now, Anna realizes that, while she remembered the prophecies where others did not, memory is not understanding. Here, at what should be the end of her adventure, she has much to learn.

[Holbrook]

[Malliss watches, waits, listens and understands. The very thing in the making, a sword, two edged. Both in its metal structure, in its nature.

The blades are both a curse and a blessing, to him and to those who seek to use them against him. Bitter irony. Like a love shared once and laid aside.

Malliss knows he could have stopped the forging of the blades before they even begun. He is aware that the four lives that are bound to the blades could have been snuffed out at any time these past few days.

Why not? A question Malliss asks himself as he watches. Because, though the blades could destory him, they could also serve him. They could grant him victory this time and this time he would claim more than power, more than worship. He would claim a heart.
******

Lucas is ready, it is time. The act must be done soon. He looks at Anna, the pain and confusion, the realisation that she knew everything, yet understood nothing weighs heavy on her mind and heart.

His hand reaches out and his finger gently touches her chin, tilting it, so he can look into her eyes, her soul.

"Time now, the deed must be done soon else the moment is past. Who shall plunge the ready blade into the heart of another. Who shall carry the burden of that life cut short. To what use lady, to what end will the blades be used? This Presence in the tunnels first I think, but what after? Have you the courage, have you the strength or is everything just talk and dreams?"