Several minutes after the implosion, Big John was still calming the volatile space where the Dread Lord had been erased from existence. It was a far more tedious and draining task to restore the dimensional fabric than it was to collapse it. He easily used up three times the amount of energy fixing the spatial rift than he had used to create it. Instead of teleporting back to Adah and Sheut, who were now locked in a tight embrace, Big John decided to walk. He needed to ground himself, to not further disrupt the space around him.
As he got closer to the pair, he noticed an eerie, tar-like ball hovering just above Sheut's left hand. It was a swirling mass of inky blackness, and from within its depths, he heard a faint, high-pitched wail. A cold shiver ran down his spine. He thought to himself, "Am I that depleted of mana that I'm hearing phantom screaming?" It wasn't the sound of pain, but a sound of pure, unadulterated torment. The echoes of a soul in the throes of utter dissolution. The sheer malice emanating from the tar-like ball was so thick and palpable, it felt like a physical weight settling in the pit of his stomach.
Stopping in front of Sheut, Big John asked, "What is that inky black ball in your hand? He asked himself, "Why can I feel it screaming rather than hearing it with my ears? It's honestly disturbing."
"This unsightly thing is the Dread Lord's shadow, soul, or mana organ. It is up to what you wish to call it," Sheut replied, his voice a low, somber murmur. He looked at the swirling, tar-like ball with pure disgust. "I grabbed it after the dimensional explosion Big John created because I felt innocent vessels fighting consumption and asking for help."
Adah shuddered, a look of discomfort on her face. "But why can I feel it screaming?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly. She beat Big John to the punch. This was his next question.
Sheut's expression was one of guilt. "Because they're not screaming with their voice, my love. They're screaming with their very being. Unfortunately, I don't have a less torturous way of freeing them than to forcefully pull them apart. If it wasn't due to the consuming nature of veil shadows like this one, it would be an easy job. Shadows do not have a consciousness, but they can feel emotions such as fear, pain, love, and regret. Remember the shadows are what make you, you."
He held the ball up, and the wailing intensified as he started the process again. The malice emanating from the tar-like ball was so thick it felt like a physical chill in the air. He then intensified his efforts to separate the shadows, seeing that his previous effort failed. The shadow was far stronger than Sheut, because it hadn't lost the energy stored when it was the dread lord yet. Sheut could rip the other shadows out, but that wouldn't help them. That would instead make it more difficult for them to move on.
Big John, his face pale, stared at the swirling mass of darkness. He had fought countless battles, faced down creatures of unimaginable power, but he had never witnessed anything like this. It was a humbling reminder that true wisdom lies in acknowledging one's ignorance. Two proverbs came to mind. The first being, "A wise man never knows all, only a fool knows everything." The second was, "I become aware of my ignorance as I learn."
"Wait, if that is what you say it is, then why can we see it? We've never been able to see anything like this before?" Big John asked, his eyes wide with a mixture of awe and scientific curiosity.
Seeing the curiosity practically leaping from Big John's eye. Sheut let out a soft, light chuckle. "That's because of my powers, of course. You can say that I'm outlining it with shadow. As I explained earlier, I'm trying to release the innocent souls fighting consumption by the Dread Lord's former shadow. In order to do this, I am wrapping my shadows around it to try and do so. If your next question has to do with why. I would like to tell that I want to help them find peace and a path forward and release them to the strings of fate. Whether that'd be judgment, damnation, or reincarnation, I cannot know for sure. But that would be a bold-faced lie. The truth is, because they asked me for help, coupled with fact that they are innocent. Even after conveying through shadow that the odds of successfully separating them are one in five. They welcomed the odds. So, I gave them my word that I would help."
Adah, thinking of how to assist her companion, had a sudden spark of inspiration. "I don't have cleansing fire or a cleric's blessing," she said, her eyes gleaming with the idea. "But if we combine our magics, could we speed this up or make it more successful?"
A slow smile spread across Sheut's face, one that reached his eyes and made the crimson gleam within them warm and gentle. "My love," he said, his voice filled with awe, "that's… an extraordinary idea. I've never considered it. I've never known shadow to be able to be mixed with light, nor has it ever been done, but it might be possible due to our connection." He went silent for a second, thinking about it. "To join my shadow with light… it's a concept that defies everything I've ever known. With the uniqueness of my shadows, I believe we could make this work."
He held up the tar-like ball, and with a subtle shift in his aura, a small mote of her light energy that she had used to mend the guards was drawn to it, hovering tentatively just outside the inky blackness. The ball of chaos pulsed erratically, as if in pain or protest.
"It's true, you don't have cleansing flames," he continued, his gaze now fixed on the swirling energy, "but your light is pure and untainted. One could even say that you are the same as the sun. The bringer of light. The sun isn't a ball of light, but a ball of plasma. And, unlike light has a shadow, believe it or not. Which means you possess the ability to cleanse a shadow but no way to target or affect it." His eyes were serious and full of a profound hope. "Yes," he said, his voice gaining strength. "I believe we could. We could create a synergy that could cleanse the Dread Lords and allow me to free the shadows within it."
Sheut held out his right, palm faced up, and asked Adah, who was now standing at arm's distance in front of him. To put her hand, palm faced up, on top of his hand. Understanding what Sheut wanted her to do from the instructions she received through their connection. She made the hottest flame that she could make. The flame was mostly a clear orange color, with white being the color at the center of it. Sheut studied the flames shadow.
Their first attempt was to use Sheut's shadow to empower Adah's plasma. He poured shadow into her flames shadow but that didn't work, but it was a bust. The second attempt, Sheut directed shadow to mix with the flame. He was hoping that the shadow would act as a combustion catalyst, but this also failed.
Finally, Sheut had an idea. "Adah, try fueling the shadow instead."
Of course. Here is a combined version that incorporates the best elements of both options.
Adah nodded and concentrated, shaping her plasma until it flowed like a weightless gas. She carefully funneled it into the shadow copy of her flame that Sheut had held in place. The moment her gaseous plasma infused the shadow, a single, deep blue flame ignited. It didn't roar or crackle like a normal fire; instead, it hummed with a soft, otherworldly resonance.
The oppressive chill that had filled the air instantly vanished, replaced by a profound and unfamiliar warmth. As the flame stabilized, the surrounding plants began to catch fire, their forms shimmering and warping in the presence of the new energy. Without a moment's hesitation, Sheut reacted, casting a thick, protective cloak of shadow over them, saving the surrounding plant life from the volatile energy.
The deep blue flame was a paradox. It was cold yet warm, a manifestation of both pure light and utter darkness. It was a fire that both consumed and purify. Sheut, with a grim determination, held the tar-like ball of the Dread Lord's soul out and brought his other hand, now engulfed in the new blue flame, close to it.
The moment the flame's energy made contact, the tar-like ball recoiled as if in agony. The phantom wails intensified, a horrific, soundless shriek that could only be felt with ones being. But as the blue flame enveloped the mass, the wails began to change. They softened, becoming a chorus of mournful whispers, and then, slowly, a symphony of peaceful, relieved sighs. From within the inky blackness, faint motes of pure, shimmering light began to emerge. Each mote was a soul, freed from the torment of the chaos that had consumed it. They didn't rush away, but hovered for a moment, bathing in the serene blue light before ascending slowly into the heavens, their passage marked by a soft, ethereal chime.
Adah watched in silent awe, her eyes wide with wonder. She had never felt such a profound sense of purpose. Her power, once just a tool for combat and comfort, was now an instrument of salvation. Big John, his face a mask of shock, simply stared at the spectacle, his earlier exhaustion completely forgotten. He was witnessing a new type of skill. He was watching history in the making.