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The Shadow on the Moon at Night:

 Chapter XX: 

That day, I learned from the Hammer of Doom the past that she went through. I did not hear, then, the voice of the warrior who annihilated the Outer Darkness wherever it lurked and hissed and reared forth in horror amidst primordial slime. I heard the voice of Deborah bat Omri, and learned from her the strange secret behind the name. I learned that the Lightdancer had been once a girl who knew only that she could do strange things, who went to Azarath and learned there of her invulnerability to all that was, even within the flesh of a mad God. 

Zee then smiled and told me her own past, and that the creature I had come in contact with was named Cthylla. And I learned then of ancient and horrible secrets, of a group of monsters from the far-flung realm of Xoth countless universes over that began to build a great and a dreadful empire. Of a war amongst these mad Gods of ancient days, and of a tremendous warlord who emerged full-blown from them promising a shortening of the way forward, and another who emerged to oppose him. Yet this grand and terrible prince of light, the light-bringer who promised that great new secrets were en route for his followers, father of Ythogtha, Gahatanothoa, Xoth-Ommog, and the youngest of the family, Cthylla, came to the conclusion that the best secrets were to be found by ascending into the great Kadath, in the Cold Waste, to confront the realm of the Primordial Gods, the gateway to Halls outside Time and Space. 

The monster did go there, yes. He had sought all that he would find. But beyond that gateway lurked great and dreadful monsters, the greatest of which was Azathoth's soul and messenger, the Crawling Chaos Nyarlathotep. Often a trickster, in wrath the Artist-Smith was dreaful and terrible indeed, and with a surge of awful power the entire Empire of Xoth was banished into dreaming-death in a vast necropolis, the shattered remnants lasting for a time in a war with strange fungoid beings and still stranger ones that looked like cones with odd upper elements, the former the maker of the fiendish Shoggoths that burbled in endless time and space. 

Zee told me that she had found in me a worthy opponent indeed, who relished like her the very nature of combat, and was not afraid to extend power to its greatest levels, if such was required. 

Then I asked them: 

And our elder sister? Is there nothing we can do for her? I heard her crying, reduced to this sobbing.........wreck of a colossus there by the deed of the other-you. 

Zee and the Lightdancer looked at each other. And Deborah said: 

No, there is nothing. Here Fate is at its cruelest. Were it within my power to cleanse the Azar, to make the Undying Flame of horror one that would be a perpetual light for healing and restoration, this I would do in a heartbeat. The hardest thing to do is to accept that Fate is what it is. Yet alone of us you have seen into Fate, and it is beyond you, and you it. You are unconstrained and able to defy ordinary things by perceiving them. Fate is what it is, and it is to each of us to bear. And to you, Fate gifts the freedom to be and to do as you please. 

Now, as I speak to you, it seems a great privilege. Yet as time winds on down in the eternal river that flows through space and time, it shall be what you make of it. 

She smiled. 

And you have done all that I expected you would do, and used that armor well. For that, I give to you another gift. 

And she handed me an orb that glowed as I placed it in my hand. 

A power battery, dear sister, that will grant to your armor great endurance. You and I have an appointment in a few weeks' time with our elder sister, when we go forth to see Igna of Domdaniel at home to see what she was before she became the monster. 

As I bowed formally to her, she said: L'Chaim! 

I smiled, and darkness enshrouded me and the sensation of weightlessness between worlds greeted me as an old and a dear friend. I knew, then, at last who I was. 

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