When the world enters its Netherdeath, silence will seep from the fissures of Edenspring to pool like venous blood from an odious battle wound.
Then will come the Darkness Bearers.
They will march from the land that some call ‘East,’ whereof the Fathers write that Lastsun lies frail upon her deathbed.
Across the five day desert they will come, like the soldier ants upon the Redrock. Heeding neither thirst nor exhaustion of limb, their column will stretch back into the Known-not, further than your eyes can see.
You will hear the drum beat before you see them.
You will smell the brokenscent before you hear them.
You will feel their march-step shake the ground before you smell them.
Carried high upon standards above them they will bear chalices.
And should you wish to take your sight with you to Secondlife, turn away.
This will be your only warning.
The Elders teach that the Darkness Bearers have no business in Hereabouts. Let them pass in silence, it is said, and they will be gone, like the Godsbreaths that howl through the canyons, and then are silent. For they are bound for Blackwest, it is said, where they will empty their chalices, pouring darkness into darkness.
Pity them, my son. For ever shall they bear the Darkness from East unto Blackwest.
Thus it is they supplicate to free the Last Sun, that she may rise again.
Pray long and hard upon your bed, my son, that you might witness Lastsun’s Secondrise.
Pray that you do not live long enough to see the ever widening shores of Blackwest draw near.
Pray most of all that you never witness the Darkness Bearers empty their chalices into Hereabouts.
For then you know that Lastsun sleeps with me in the Hereafter, never to return.