The Cradle of Eternal Night

Praise

THE CRADLE OF ETERNAL NIGHT encapsulates both the beauty and terror of sapphic love at its purest. Two wayward souls forcing love to bloom in the most inhospitable of conditions, under a bleak and unyielding darkness that seems hopeless to penetrate. Ladz keeps you on tenterhooks wondering how Hanka and Basia could possibly prevail through this brutal landscape before delivering you to the sweet promise of a romantic end.

—Camilla Andrew, author of

THE ESSENCE OF THE EQUINOX trilogy

THE CRADLE OF ETERNAL NIGHT asks the question of if love can exist in a Bloodborne-esque world of darkness, corruption, and monsters, and you’ll be pleased to know the answer is a resoundingly sapphic YES. This is a dark treat for those who take their romantasy with a spoonful of monster flesh. You’ll come back begging for second-helpings, I promise.

— T.D. Cloud, author of OSSUARY and INFAUST

THE CRADLE OF ETERNAL NIGHT is imaginative and darkly beautiful. Ladz seamlessly blends lurid horror, dark fantasy, and sapphic romance. Perfect for fans of the eerie aspects of ELDEN RING.

— Morgan Dante, author of PROVIDENCE GIRLS

Unrelenting in its descriptions and ambitious in scope, THE CRADLE OF ETERNAL NIGHT is a grim adventure that blends the visceral gut-punch of horror with the sweetness of romance, creating a tale of bittersweet hope that is as revitalizing as the dawn that follows the dark.

—K.M. Enright, Sunday Times Bestselling author of

MISTRESS OF LIES

In THE CRADLE OF ETERNAL NIGHT, Ladz crafts a chilling dark fantasy that captures the bloody body horror of Bloodborne and the rotting, frozen worldbuilding of The Painted World of Ariandel. One cannot help but to root for Hanka and Basia to succeed in bringing back the light to such a cursed place.

—Luna Fiore, author of

WHERE WILLOWS WEEP

An exploration of the beauty, and horror of a powerful love, THE CRADLE OF ETERNAL NIGHT is a gorgeous, sweeping, and ambitious triumph within the dark fantasy genre that seduces the reader to engage with a brutal world, versatile characters, and a romance so bittersweet and alluring that it stays with you, even when you put the book down.

—DC Guevara author of A VERMILION CURSE

This chewable, gripping sapphic horromance has everything: monstrous lesbians, epic combat, mind-blowing lore, and decadent prose. THE CRADLE OF ETERNAL NIGHT is a triumph—perfect for anyone looking for their next dark romantasy fix.

—Olive J. Kelley, author of

JUNKER SEVEN

Ladz builds worlds that are freshly unfamiliar and they never treat their audience to excessive hand holding. THE CRADLE OF ETERNAL NIGHT is fantasy for readers who are well-versed in the genre and have the fortitude to seek out the new places it can go.

—Brent Lambert, author of A NECESARY CHAOS

Also by Ladz

The Fealty of Monsters Series

Illustrated by Soren Häxan

Volume 1: The Fealty of Monsters (2024)

Volume 2: The Institute of Manners (Forthcoming)

Volume 3: Fever Dreams of Blood (Forthcoming)

Novella

Ice Upon a Pier (2023)

The Cradle of Eternal Night

Illustrated by Pom Poison

Ladz

Robot Dinosaur Press

Robot Dinosaur Press is a trademark of Chipped Cup Collective.

www.robotdinosaurpress.com

The Cradle of Eternal Night

Copyright © 2024 by Ladz.

All rights reserved.

Publication history

First Edition: October 2024

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, magical, photocopying, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the copyright holder.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, and events portrayed in this work are either products of the author’s or authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Book Cover & Interior Illustrations by Pom Poison (https://linktr.ee/pompoison)

No AI generated content was used in the creation of this book or its cover.

ISBN Data

eBook: 9798224885770

Paperback: 9798989398713

Contents

Author's Note

Dedication

Introduction: Kolebka Wiecznej Nocy

Part One: The Stars

1.The Bard

2.The Witch

3.The Lit Road

4.The Tower of the Stars

Part Two: The Moons

5.The Night Sky

6.Old Tale

7.Constructs

8.Departures

9.The Castle of the Twin Moons

Part Three: The Sun

10.The Prophet's Cathedral

11.Resurrection

12.The Altar of the Sun

13.The End

Glossary

Acknowledgments

About the Author

About the Illustrator

About Robot Dinosaur Press

Author's Note

Much like my other works, there might be some content that will be distressing, so I encourage you to read the content warnings below. Unlike my other books, there will not be a bibliography. This is a work of pure fantasy, horror, and romance, and I hope you enjoy your time in Kolebka Wiecznej Nocy.

At the end, there is a glossary featuring the place names and terms used. Most of these are terms loaned from the Polish language, and, as a native speaker, I couldn't help myself in making use of the declensions.

Content warnings

Body horror, cannibalism (both of self and others), vomiting, burning bodies, blood, gore, death of loved ones, depiction of a panic attack, trypophobia, explicit sexual content (including fingering, cunnilingus, massaging), and dubiously consensual monsterfucking

In Memory of Rekka Jay (1980-2023)

Slack message from October 2019

Thought of you this morning: If you can’t handle me at my cunnilingus and strap-ons, you don’t deserve me at my nasty monster fuck.

Introduction: Kolebka Wiecznej Nocy

Basia: The one who made it to the Kolebka

The world hasn’t always been darkness.

Long ago, the Kler waged war against the technomancers, whose masterpieces of magic and engineering grew a sentience beyond simple programming and the execution of tasks. These constructs, powered by light, wreaked a havoc so great and bloody that the Kler sealed away the stars, the moons, and the sun—the Nadziemscy—from their sovereign land, the Kolebka, smothering the world in a darkness they called the Wieczna Noc.

The Kler exiled the technomancers as punishment for the crimes of their creations, commanding them to either destroy or decommission the remaining constructs. It took several generations, but the technomancers upheld their end of the bargain. In the lands beyond, constructs no longer wander free; they stay anchored to keep the artificial lights on.

The darkness, however, continues on.

Oświetlona Droga, the lit road, is the only light in the Kolebka not anchored to any city or town. The bright trail connects the hubs where humanity still resides, and its primary function is that of a highway for the Kler and their merchants to use. It’s not for laypeople, and it’s especially not for technomancers.

Basia had arrived at the Kolebka with a fellowship of twelve others who quickly learned that technomancers were not to touch its sun-embraced pavement despite it having been their ancestors who built it. Immediately alerted to their presence, the priests of the Kler had descended upon them with dark magic and sharp blades. Only half the group survived that encounter. The rest of them fell one by one to the night-kissed beasts and the roving priests.

They’re all gone now, and Basia races alone alongside the grand, brilliant highway. She thought it would be her and Mirek making their way to Tawerna, a town very close to one of the chapels where the Kler sealed away the lights, the Nadziemskie Kaplice: the tower of stars, Gwiedzna Wieża. His screams follow her instead.

No matter how hard she pumps her arms and lifts her legs along the snowbank tucked away from the Oświetlona Droga where the stone glows with white light, Tawerna, the enormous residence shining through the darkness like a beacon, grows no closer.

She doesn’t stop running until the snapping jaws and clicking chitin of the night-kissed beasts grow fainter, until she’s certain they have lost interest in following her. Exhausted by her flight and giving in to grief, Basia collapses forward into the frost. Her sword falls from her hands as she braces her fall. The ground’s coolness soothes the anger gathering in her eyes and cheeks. Its cold sting almost staunches the tears but fails.

She doesn’t want to be left alone in these forbidden lands. She had never been exceptional, and no one counted on her to survive in any skirmish. Her gift is her cleverness which more often than not preserved only herself with no regard for others. She had been chastised for it, but that selfishness helped her make it this far into the Kolebka. Poor Mirek told her to run, so she did. There were no second chances for him, not with his spent resurrection stone, and Basia had saved hers for herself, not that she can administer it on herself now she’s alone.

There are no technomancers in Kolebka Wiecznej Nocy. The Kler made sure of that.

Basia rolls over onto her large backpack and stares at the black, vacant sky above. The ceaseless darkness no longer instills a bone-deep fear. When she first came to the Kolebka it felt like a great maw, ready to swallow her whole. Having been in the Kolebka’s wilderness long enough for the sight to grow familiar, however, she knows it’s the Kler she should be afraid of, but it’s the kind of fear that fuels a fight, rather than fleeing to safer shores. Nowhere is safe for her here, especially as the Kler likely has a presence in every enclave. Even Tawerna.

All she needs is to get inside undetected, assuming the Kler is not in the process of strengthening the darkness in case any technomancers still roam the Kolebka. The laity doesn’t know the Wieczna Noc is an oppression crafted by magic, not a natural disaster. She hates having to shoulder the responsibility of dispelling the lie on her own. Generations of lies will be crashing down under the weight of her sword.

She slides out from within her bag’s straps, undoes the tie, and searches for her notebook. The fellowship’s notes are incomplete, but it’s enough to get to Tawerna. From there, she can get the directions to Gwiedzna Wieża. It cannot be far off, but she knows the Kler can’t have made it easy to find one of their holy sites. It can’t help that Basia has never had a talent for finding things, either. She’s spent so much time with the texts that these notes appear behind her eyes when she shuts them. If the notes are right, Tawerna will have the missing details somewhere within the Mistrz’s studies and offices. She doesn’t doubt that the Kler will be there to receive her.

What she knows of the priests is that they never intended to bring the light back. They have never acted of the goodness of their own hearts; it’s time someone demanded answers and undid their perpetual reign. All things must come to an end, and that includes this night, even if it has already cost her a dozen people she considered friends and comrades, claimed by the Kler’s magic or the sharp claws of their beasts roaming these darkened lands.

As much as she fears fighting the Kler and their Strażnicy guards all by herself, she knows it won’t be where her life ends. She is determined to die to the violence of something worse than the night-kissed beasts that have been hunting her since her fellowship arrived in the Kolebka, something awakened by the sun’s oppressive rays.

Part One: The Stars

Chapter one

The Bard

mirek: the noble fool whose heart had no place in the outside

In the town called Tawerna, its bard, Hanka, sits atop the banquet hall’s rafters and drops a lively ditty on the diners’ heads below. It is a feast like she has never seen.

At the center of the titanic central table lays a glistening swine much larger than the beasts typically served at dinner. In a wreath around it are several heaps of crisped potatoes, drowning in a pool of gravy dolloped elegantly with jam and cream. The crunching of crisp, fresh breads mingles among the idle conversations. The enticing smells give her some trouble with the words and the tune falling out of her mouth. It’s a complicated piece, and a fitting finale to her tenure as one of Tawerna’s many singers and musicians. She might be missed, but she hopes they’ll forget about her as the final note leaves her lips.

Hanka hops off her perch. As much as the rumbling in her stomach wants her to partake and indulge, this meal isn’t for her.

The feast honors the visiting Kler, the world’s aloof caretakers. From their bastion in Katedra Wieszczów, they worship and wait for an eventual return of light to this realm swallowed in darkness. They sing praises to the Nadziemscy—the sun, the moons, and the stars which no one in Kolebka Wiecznej Nocy and the lands beyond have seen in generations. They beg. They pray. They encourage others to beg and pray.

What the Kler hasn’t told anyone is this: it is entirely up to them whether the light returns or not.

Hanka was never supposed to find out—her own reckless curiosity led her to it. Afterward, she had escaped Katedra Wieszczów, making her way into Tawerna around when the Kler last visited on a pilgrimage to Gwiedzna Wieża, which she also wasn’t supposed to know about. Their paths hadn’t crossed then. She wonders why they’re crossing now. If they’re crossing now; she can’t tell if she’s what they seek. It’s likely. It’s an encounter she’s been waiting for since she arrived. Thus, she needs to leave before they discover her presence. It’s a matter of when, not if.

In addition to the feast and the excitement, there are other signs of their visitation. Night’s kiss—a miasma dark and unseen by those who cannot wield it—pools around their feet, trailing behind them like a veil. They dress in uniforms: funereal black hoods with white, collared surcoats of different cuts and shapes. Some wear black skirts, others black trousers, while others parade around in just black smallclothes and tall socks. Silvers chains and belts keep the articles of clothing from falling off their frames, while the silver eye-shaped pendants on each torso tells the world that they are the vigilant Kler. Despite the Kolebka’s ceaseless darkness, they protect their eyes with charcoal gray bands so as not to be blinded by the celestials they worship so fervently.

She had removed hers when she left the Katedra. Her eyes afforded her special vision within the darkness, though she had worried that the Mistrz of Tawerna would report her to the Kler upon her arrival. He hadn’t; there was too much pity. Lone wanderers were upsettingly common—night-kiss beasts often attacked those who traveled along Oświetlona Droga. Tawerna’s ministry took her in exchange for her musical services, and she performed well enough to be hired. Her continued musicianship allowed her to blend in with the others. No one questioned her slit pupils or bright blue eyes. No one suspected she wasn’t human.

There is only one person who knows that truth about Hanka, and he eats with Tawerna’s Mistrz on the opposite end of the hall along with four other priests. Pale yellow hair swoops across the left half his face like a crescent moon. Though his eyes are obscured by his own band, she knows he shares her cerulean irises. She recalls him wanting jewelry threaded into his skin, and it glints now in the banquet hall’s many torches. A ring in his lip connects by a chain to the ring on his ear on his left side. Another ring graces his brow—she hadn’t expected that one. In the time since they had last seen each other, his face has only grown more severe, cheeks and chin sharpening, but she recognizes him by demeanor and posture.

Patryk was her broodmate. Both of them are night-kissed beasts who were born to masquerade as human.

Should she have stayed with him to become a priest herself? Probably. But Patryk had aided her escape, neither of them knowing what would happen if the Kler found out that a creature they had made knew their truth. It’s his presence that now convinces her that this pilgrimage is definitely to retrieve her, to take her back to Katedra Wieszczów. For punishment or execution, she doesn’t know.

As she turns to leave, one of the bards calls to her. Oi, Hanka! She hopes he didn’t just expose her to Patryk.

It’s never been important to know all the other bards by name; if she guessed Jan, she would have a significant chance of guessing correctly. She closes her eyes and gives him a smile. That was a wonderful performance you gave earlier, Jan.

He doesn’t correct her on his name. Thank you! I have a message from the Mistrz on behalf of the Kler to share with you, if you’ve got a moment.

She swallows. She does not have a moment, but a message from the Mistrz might be worth taking one. Let’s have it.

Jan leans in, smelling sharply of samogon and pepper, and whispers into her ear, There is a technomancer in Tawerna. They’re telling us to keep an eye out.

This catches Hanka by surprise. She’s not human, but she’s no technomancer. They had been long exiled from the Kolebka at the behest of the Kler. It happened during the Zaćmienie—the event which sealed away the stars, the moons, and the sun—long before Hanka spawned. I’ll keep an eye out.

She will not. She has somewhere else to be, anywhere but Tawerna.

She politely bids him a good rest and puts her focus into hiding her haste. She briefly debates leaving her balalaika behind in the feasting hall, not even bringing it back to her room—it likely won’t survive another journey through the night. Though it’s a technomancer artifact that the Kler clearly didn’t mind her stealing, too many years have passed since she last cast a spell with it. Perhaps the little bulb at the top of its neck no longer works. She decides to