This weapon was proportioned to the creature it had killed—three hundred feet long, its shaft as thick as ancient trees, its blade the size of a building. It was made from materials that gleamed even after what must have been millennia of exposure, suggesting either incredible craftsmanship or magical properties that prevented decay.
"What is that?" Jorghan whispered.
Sash moved to the cliff edge, her violet eyes wide with awe and horror.
"That's the Pantheon of Beasts. The god of all animal creatures. One of the primordial entities that existed before elves, before any of the civilized races. They say it was worshipped by ancient humans as a deity, feared by early elves as an unkillable monster."
"See the shape on its skull. I'm sure it's the Pantheon. I heard stories, tales of the Sol'vur clan, of how they slew the beast."
She seemed to be in a daze, watching the beast, what remained of it.
She pointed at the skull, at the spear driven through it with terminal finality.
