After this I'm writing two endings, a 'bad end' because I don't want to miss out on the delicious drama that comes with it, and a 'good end' where Caoilfhionn overcomes even the final obstacle preventing him from being able to earn a happy ending. Schrödinger's Trahearne, if you will. : P
Soundtrack for the Mordremoth fight is Between Heaven and Earth from FE3H, both Rain and Storm but mostly Storm.
If you want the good end, skip directly to Chapter 44: The Strength to Fight!
40: Hearts and Minds
The southern end of the jungle was a chaotic mess of porous stone; of exposed ley lines; of vines and corruption, interspersed with little pockets of cheerful, flower-sprinkled, bright green jungle. The little band was trying to travel unseen around the south end of the lake, though the trail of the prisoners was practically non-existent by now. "Dragging those three all this way, so close to its power... Do you think Mordremoth knew we would follow?" asked Kasmeer.
"You smell a trap?" Rox asked.
"Just keep your eyes open," Caoilfhionn said. "We don't want to get boxed in here. Kas, scout ahead. We'll meet you at the fork in the road."
"Right away!" Kasmeer said, and vanished.
She was back not long after. "I found the rest of Destiny's Edge, but they're heavily guarded," she said. "No sign yet of Trahearne, sorry. That trail leads to Logan, the high road to Zojja."
"Are they alive?" Braham asked.
"I couldn't tell," Kasmeer said. "Your, um, orders, Caoilfhionn?"
"Marjory, Canach, Damara, you're with me. We'll go get Logan. Rytlock, Braham, Rox, and Kas, head for Zojja and watch for Trahearne."
"What if we're too late?" Rytlock asked.
"Burn the bodies," Damara said grimly. Caoilfhionn took a shuddering breath, and nodded.
They were surprised by Mordrem Guard around the next bend in the path, and for a few minutes they were fighting for their lives. Even as they thinned the enemy and won their way through, the Dragon's voice crashed over them – over him. "You are weak. Give in, and find peace."
Caoilfhionn stumbled, staggering sideways into an alcove in the rock, his head pounding. The Dragon's face seemed to float before him, beckoning with its eerie yellow eyes. Just a moment... he just needed to rest for a moment...
"Wake. Join us."
He started and jumped up. How long had he been asleep? What was he doing... why did his head feel so heavy...?
"Here you are," said a familiar voice, and Caoilfhionn looked up to see a friend smiling at him. His vision was blurring at the edges, and he was still so very tired... His nap had not done him much good, apparently. "It's good to finally see you here, Caoilfhionn."
"I'm... Where am I?"
"Safe," said his friend, reaching out his hand to support him. "Safe with the Dragon."
As he touched him, as he heard the words, his head and vision cleared. "Malyck!" Friend, yes. Safe, no. The hollow malice he felt in Malyck made that abundantly clear.
"Come! Let us hunt together. It'll be like old times. We can save your friend Canach, at least. We can't save the others... but they can still be useful."
Caoilfhionn backed away, shaking his head. It ached, and the Dragon's call snarled in it, nearly drowning out the clamour of his Wyld Hunt, but he resisted. "No, Malyck. I have not turned. I will not be a slave to that monster. Canach will not turn either. Don't try to fight us. You will die, and I don't wish that."
Malyck's face hardened, his burning scarlet eyes flaring brighter. "You still resist? Then it is as I said. Third time pays for all... and you do not know how to use that sword as I do, I think." He drew his own new sword, charging straight at Caoilfhionn – who rolled back with a trail of Air sparks, buying himself half a second of reaction time as Malyck twitched.
"I don't want to kill you, Malyck," Caoilfhionn said. "But there is nothing more important to me than getting to Trahearne. If I must kill you, then so be it."
"You will never reach him now," Malyck said. "He is already one of us."
"He would die first," Caoilfhionn said. "But he will not, because I am coming for him."
"You'll see," Malyck said, with a grin, and Caoilfhionn gritted his teeth and slashed with fire.
"It's not right!" he cried, emotions erupting out of his control. "I should never have let you go alone! You were supposed to find your family! To bring back an army to help us fight the Dragons!" The swords clashed on each other, never locking, Fire and Air crackling between them.
"Fighting the Dragons is futile... and foolish," Malyck said. "You only doom yourselves in trying – and you doom yourselves worse if you succeed."
"What do you mean?" Caoilfhionn hesitated the briefest moment, startled, and was nearly run through. No, he could not listen! Mordremoth would say that, wouldn't he! "It doesn't matter! If slaying Mordremoth slays all Sylvari, then we shall die to free the world! We will not be consumed!"
"It is inevitable. Me, you, Trahearne, your foolish flailing friends. All who were born of your Tree will come to Mordremoth, and all will be as it should be. And you will bring them."
The grip on his mind was excruciating, threading through his thoughts, interrupting them like lightning strikes interrupting a dark sky, the voice roaring in his head, twisting his sight. "I... will... not!" He lunged recklessly and stabbed – straight into Malyck's gut.
Malyck grunted a little and stumbled back. Caoilfhionn's eyes widened and he reached for him-
Malyck toppled backwards and fell from the cliff, down, down into the dark chasm below.
For a long moment, he stared, gasping for air, unable to process what he had just seen and felt. Malyck was gone... forever. No chance of redemption... and at his hand, too.
He did not regret what he had done. Mordremoth's call had lessened, for the moment. He needed to move forward – he desperately needed to catch up to the others. But another deep wound was carved on his heart.
He ran his hand over his aching head, and what was left of his leaves fell, withered, brown and dry. He was nearly as bald as Canach now, only scattered stems protruding from his scalp. He didn't care. Trahearne would still love him even if he lost his physical beauty.
There was a low call from ahead, and Damara ran to him, Canach and Marjory following behind her. "Caoilfhionn! Thank the Gods! Are you all right? We feared the worst."
With an effort, he pulled his eyes away from the abyss where Malyck had fallen and back into the present. "I'm okay. Just... ran into a little trouble back there."
Canach looked closely at him. "Back there? Or in here?" He tapped his head.
He was recovering, though. "My head is fine, Canach. I'm glad to see yours is still attached to your shoulders."
Canach gave him the barest smirk. "It gets harder and harder to keep it there, I know..."
"Just give us a call if you're having trouble," Marjory said. "It was a bit of a scare to lose you like that."
"I'm sorry," he said. "I'll try harder. How far away is Logan?"
Logan was not far away, and after fighting more snipers than Caoilfhionn really thought necessary, they cut open his blighting pod and Damara and Canach dragged him out. His armour was in tatters, his skin sickly pale, and his eyes were closed.
"Logan?" asked Damara.
"Logan, can you hear me?" Marjory asked.
Logan moaned and blinked slowly, his gaze unfocussed. "The others... Zojja..."
"We're getting you out," Marjory said.
"The darkness," Logan mumbled. "I didn't know where to stand... It was lifting me."
"You're safe now," Damara said. "Can you walk?" Logan shook his head.
"Did the Mordrem let anything slip about the Dragon? A weak spot, perhaps?" Canach asked.
"No. Nothing."
"Marjory, steady him and meet up with us," Damara said. "Caoilfhionn, we should go ahead to find the others." Caoilfhionn nodded and led the way.
"She didn't want to leave the plant with the plant food," Canach said to him, and he snorted.
"We're both at risk of turning," he pointed out. "We can steady each other. And maybe I... I don't actually mind your company."
"I don't blame you," Canach said, sardonic, yet less so than usual.
The others were in trouble as well, swarmed with even more Mordrem Guard, big heavy punishers and cavaliers. "They came out of nowhere!" Rox exclaimed.
"Zojja?" demanded Caoilfhionn – and stopped, and stared. "Caithe. What are you doing here?
Rytlock shook his head. "They stopped us; we didn't make it yet. We found her tracking Faolain, and then we were waylaid by this group of Mordrem protecting that twisted branch." Caithe nodded to him calmly.
Damara grimaced expressively. "Faolain's here too?"
"Whatever that thing is, it's not Faolain," Caithe said. "I came to put it out of its misery."
"Get in line," Braham said.
"Behind me, too," Rytlock said.
"No time to argue," Damara said. "We have to get Zojja. Braham, she makes one wrong move, stop her."
"Sure," Braham said. "Hand over the daggers, traitor."
Caoilfhionn should have spoken up, but his trust in Caithe had been shaken too, and he had enough roiling in his own heart he could not spare any feelings for her. Caithe did as she was told and followed them.
Not a moment later, a troop of small, green, leafy Zojjas popped out of the undergrowth, wailing. "Burn... Burn us! Kill us!"
"Poor devils," Rytlock said. "Far be it from me to deny their wishes."
"These vile trees!" Caoilfhionn cried. "So that's why they were brought here!"
"Zojja!" Damara cried. "I'm going to get her out!"
"Get back, it's going to explode!" said Canach, and even as Damara reached the pod, it burst open with a sickening plop, depositing Zojja's unconscious body unceremoniously on the ground.
"She's unconscious," Damara said, as Rytlock finished off the last of the clones. "We must have been too late. She's much worse than Logan."
Kasmeer looked up quickly. "You found him?"
"They did indeed," said Logan himself, stumbling into their midst on Marjory's arm.
Rytlock grinned. "Logan! I knew they couldn't make mulch out of you."
"Rytlock!" said Logan, managing a weary smile of his own. "You came back- where were you?"
Rytlock shrugged. "Oh, learning a thing or two here and there in the Mists. You know, typical jumping-into-a-rift sort of thing."
"Anything to help me kill this Dragon?" Logan asked.
"Why don't you let us handle that?" Rytlock said, surprisingly tactfully. "This team... they're as good as we ever were. You two go and hang out with Eir. She's probably antsy for company."
"Eir's all right?" Logan said. "I see Caithe's on probation..."
"Eir was badly wounded when we rescued her," Braham said. "But she's alive. And yeah, she'd probably appreciate seeing you both also alive."
"Isn't this touching?" said a new voice from above them, an arrogant voice, and they looked up to see the horrible mutated form of Faolain crouching on a cliff a small distance away. "Destiny's Edge reunited at last. Zojja, you're looking well. Caoilfhionn, your leaves look marvelous."
"Faolain!" cried Braham.
"It isn't Faolain," Caithe said. "Mordremoth is behind those eyes."
"Whoever it is is about to be put into a grave," Braham said.
Faolain chuckled merrily. "You'll have to catch me first." With a flick of her vinetooth tail, she was gone.
"Let's go!" Braham cried, charging ahead.
"Kas, take Zojja and Logan and portal them out of here," Damara ordered. "Rox, go with. Keep 'em safe."
"With me!" Caoilfhionn cried, running in Faolain's wake. "She shan't get away!" Rytlock growled and dashed up beside him on all fours; Caithe and Braham were right behind him.
Her voice still carried to them. "You may have uprooted Zojja and Logan, but you'll never make it to Trahearne in time. Don't you see? Harmony is coming, and you will join Mordremoth."
"Your harmony is slavery, and we will not stand for it!" Caithe cried. She turned to Damara. "Commander, please! Let me fight! I can help you reach Trahearne! I only want to kill the Dragon! Its death might kill me – the entire Sylvari people – but that's better than living in its grasp! It's the only end I've been working toward."
Damara looked at Caoilfhionn. Caoilfhionn looked at Caithe. Her words spoke to his heart, and he believed them – even if she had not seemed in her right mind when she took the egg. "Fine. But don't cross us again. Braham, give her daggers back to her."
"Fine," Braham grumbled.
The chase led them onward, across jagged rocks, ever closer to the gigantic tree. Faolain was fleeing there... undoubtedly leading them to trouble. And they came upon it, small pockets of Mordrem Guard, but they blasted through, unburdened by anything but the need to overcome. Over on their right, across the lake, they could see the battle of the Pact against the Dragon, gliders fluttering and zipping over the lake of enchanted mist, coasting on ley-lines and buoyed by strong wind currents, hopping from island to island of weathered ley-stone. The Dragon threaded through them like a great armoured serpent clad in violet-green plates. They could hear its cries, hear the mumble of magically-amplified orders, and the sharp reports of blackpowder weapons. The sounds echoed off the massive tree and the cliffs around the lake; Caoilfhionn could have closed his eyes and still sensed exactly how large the lake was.
Faolain came to the trunk of the tree and disappeared into it. They followed, lower down, finding their way in through a channel cracked in the ley-line-weathered rock. The interior of the tree was unbelieveable; two ramps winding like a helix up out of a pool of dark water up to near the top of the tree, far above them.
Caoilfhionn gazed up in grim wonder. "We're here. This thing. This tree must be the Dragon's... epicentre."
"Yes, I feel Mordremoth's eyes bearing down upon me," said Canach.
Braham looked confused. "Where is the beast? Isn't everyone else fighting it?" He pointed back north-east, where they had just seen the army fighting.
Caoilfhionn shook his head. "It's not one thing out here, Braham. It's everything! That's... only a small manifestation of it. If they kill it, we will be no closer to victory than when we began."
"The entire time we were traversing this jungle, we were afoot on its back," Canach said. "Like fleas on a hound."
"Eugh," Damara said. "But I guess bombarding the entire jungle wasn't as crazy as I thought it was."
"If that's the case, then..." Braham yelled and whacked the tree, leaving a heavy splintered crater in the soft, partially rotted wood. "...I know it doesn't really hurt it; just something I had to do."
"What will hurt it, then?" Marjory said. "If it's in another dimension, that's cheating."
"We'll figure it out," Caoilfhionn said. "But first we must free Trahearne from whatever fate Mordremoth has in store for him here."
"I've spent much of my life hating the Firstborn, always being compared to them," Canach said beside him as they started up the closest ramp. "In our Mother's eyes, Trahearne was perfect and none of us could live up to him. But now..."
"And now...?" Caoilfhionn asked, looking up at him.
"With Mordremoth pounding against my willpower, I'm barely holding on. And yet Trahearne... he flew his airships straight at it. I can only admire him now. We must find him."
Caoilfhionn, in this late, desperate hour, laughed. He hadn't done that in a while. "He was never perfect. He has made mistakes... but he tried his hardest and he overcame his fears. What else can any of us do?" Trahearne had not known Mordremoth's strength. His boldness was not from bravery this time.
But had he known, he probably would have done it anyway. Trahearne never turned back once he had set his sights on a goal.
Canach let out a sigh. "I worry that it's already too late. Mordremoth will have its hooks in Trahearne's body and mind much deeper than it did in Zojja and Logan. It's what we Sylvari were designed for."
Caoilfhionn clenched his fists. "We'll find a way. We... have to."
They climbed the ramps, fighting Mordrem and vines, up, up, up to find where Faolain waited for them, in a hollow in the wood, a hollow filled with blighting pods. The monster paced back and forth before them, animalistic and menacing, but Caoilfhionn's attention was fixed solely on the blighting pods, upon one encasing a tall, slender figure.
"You cannot stop the inevitable," Faolain hissed. "You cannot silence the pulse of this world."
"Trahearne!" Caoilfhionn sprinted for the blighting pod, heedless of Faolain. He reached it and struck it with his fists, scraped at it, trying to tear it open. "Trahearne! I'm here!"
A blow from the side knocked him to the floor of the hollow and Faolain's horrifyingly gigantic face was looming over him, inches away, her head more than half as tall as his entire body. She leered with scarlet eyes as big as his handspan, her mouth large enough to bite off his whole head. "Trahearne is ours!"
He drew his knife with his sword-hand and slashed it between them, terror warring with fury within him, blowing fire into her face and making her reel away with a squeak of pain. "Trahearne is mine! And I am his! While I breathe you shall never have him!"
"Oh, don't be so possessive," Faolain cooed, darting back from him and watching them all with a predatory smile. "There's room here for you both."
"Get her!" Damara yelled, loosing an arrow that lodged in Faolain's branch-like leaves.
"You can't run forever, Faolain!" Braham said, charging forward with the rest of them. Caoilfhionn jumped up and joined them, spinning fire between Rytlock and Canach.
"Braham, how is your mother?" Faolain asked, spinning and knocking Marjory down with her tail. "Do give her my best."
Braham snarled and swung, missing, at her clawed foot. "By Wolf's breath, she will be avenged today!"
Faolain chortled. "I know Eir and I had our differences, but I hope she didn't think I was a thorn in her side." Braham's only reply was an enraged scream.
"Faolain, please!" Caithe begged. "If there's any part of you left... let us free Trahearne!" Futile, but he understood. She could not but love, deep down.
Faolain turned on her, focusing the full power of her attacks upon Caithe alone. "You still don't understand. There was never Faolain, there was never Caithe, there was never Trahearne... There was always Mordremoth!" Caithe gasped under the onslaught, vanishing and reappearing a little further away. Faolain prowled after her, but Braham got in the monster's way. "Caithe, don't you know it's dangerous to rebel against your creator?"
Caithe spun, daggers flashing, dancing between the monster's feet and carving deep into its chest area. "I don't care the cost! The Dragon will fall, and we will be free – in life or in death!"
Faolain screamed and reeled back, swatting at Caithe, but she was no longer there, dodging away, Marjory coming up in her wake to slash with her long sword. Rytlock roared, channeling magic through his flaming sword, hemming Faolain in from the other side. Faolain snarled, springing high and away from them, then charging back in to knock them down with the power of her passing. Canach swung into her path, Moon shield high and immoveable, and she drove him back with her head but could not knock him down. Caoilfhionn shot past him, crashing into her with the force and fire of a meteor, and she stumbled. Damara's hawk stooped upon Faolain's head, pecking at her eyes, and Damara's arrows sank into her neck.
Faolain screeched even louder, rearing back to slam down upon them all, and Caithe leapt up, taking flight from Rytlock's shoulder, and slashed through her throat. The monster gurgled, clawing at the air, and collapsed before them heavily. Her claws scrabbled at the wood for a moment before she sighed and lay still, scarlet eyes still open and staring eerily.
"It is done," Caithe said, breathing hard. She closed her eyes and swayed a little.
"Caithe, are you...?" Marjory began.
"Fine," Caithe said, opening her eyes again. "I made my peace with Faolain's death when I saw what she'd become. Now I must destroy her body."
"And-" The blighting pod cracked, and oozed open. Caoilfhionn turned to rush to his beloved, but Mordremoth was one step ahead of him. Trahearne was hanging limp from a vine that had swallowed his lower half, and it yanked him away, just as Caoilfhionn reached out for him. "No! Trahearne!"
The vine thrashed and pulled back into the whirlpool under the tree. Without pause, Caoilfhionn leapt after.
He had sunk through the water at the bottom of the tree and fallen into a tunnel full of air – as if the water had only been a layer. But now here he was in a dark tunnel full of tree roots, made of tree roots, smelling of bitter earth and stagnant water, and Trahearne was nowhere to be seen.
The others were following after. "What a strange place this is. Either this is a trap, or the Dragon's getting desperate," Marjory said as she landed in a ready crouch, reaching for her nodachi.
"Doesn't matter," Rytlock grunted. "Trahearne's here, and even if he is just bait, he'll still lead us to Mordremoth."
"Mordremoth's here too," Caoilfhionn said. "I can feel its mind all around us." He breathed slowly, fighting its pressure. His mind was all a jumble between the Dragon's call, his Wyld Hunt, and his heart's cry for his love. There was no need to be led anywhere. They had come to the end of their journey.
"Yes," Canach said. "It's like some great fist... And it's squeezing."
Caoilfhionn looked at him and offered a hand. "I don't know about you, but I'm ready to get this Dragon out of my head for good."
Canach shook his hand with a fierce grin. "Agreed. Mordremoth must pay. And the world needs to see a Sylvari exact payment."
Caoilfhionn nodded and turned to lead the way down the tunnel. It twisted and wound its way through the roots, and he could not see very far before him, nor hear – it was as if the roots absorbed all the sound around them.
They had not gone far when the tunnel shook. "Armies cannot stop me."
Canach looked up. "The Dragon is focused on the battle outside. We'll never get a better chance."
The tunnel was opening up, and Caoilfhionn could see in the slightly larger space – there ahead of them was a figure, upright now, blinking awake... with burning red eyes.
"Trahearne!" The cry was torn loudly from his throat, and he ran to his love, heedless of the danger in those eyes. "I'm sorry I took so long, I'm sorry for all you've suffered..." He went to put his arms about him, but Trahearne put out a hand to stop him. "Trahearne?" Had he fallen? His body had been half-hardened from soft leafy flesh to jagged wood, his face half seized by corruption.
The expressive side of Trahearne's face was yearning, his breathing unsteady, and he reached out as if to touch Caoilfhionn's cheek, but pulled back. "I cannot... I dare not touch you, beloved, else I lose my concentration. But you look as though you've suffered just as much as I have... I'm sorry for causing you such pain."
He shook his now-bald head. "I'd endure much more for you. But I'm here now, and together we will fight." Caladbolg lay nearby, notched and splintered in two, wedged into a half-cloven vine, its light dimmed. He must have fought desperately, alone, to the last of his strength. Oh, how he loved him!
Trahearne swayed, a hand to his head. "It's too late. I know – I am part of the Jungle Dragon now. It is everywhere."
"Trahearne," Caithe said softly. "...Faolain is dead."
Trahearne nodded. "I felt it. You have been so strong, Caithe. And you are free now. I'm happy for you."
"So how do we kill it?" burst out Braham. "Burn every field and fell every forest?"
"No," Trahearne said, to Damara's relief. "It can't be defeated that way. It'll just grow back. Its roots have spread too far, too deep."
"Then we destroy the root," Damara said. "Mordremoth is the Dragon of the Mind. Its strongest attacks come from its mind. That's our target."
"Sound strategy, Commander," Canach said. "Turn the tables and attack the Dragon the same way it's been attacking us? Brilliant." There was a distant howl, and the tunnel shook. "You don't need a translator to understand that – the Dragon doesn't like this idea."
"Or the army just struck a good hit," Damara said.
"They have slain the Dragon's body," Trahearne said, looking upwards as if he could see to the surface. "It is in pain, and full of rage, preparing to grow a new body to destroy them with."
"Then let's kill it before it can," said Caoilfhionn. "Kill it, and free you."
"Yes..." Trahearne said softly. "Strike at the Dragon's mind through the Dream. It can work. And my connection will provide the access you need." He breathed, gathering himself. "I'm ready. If I concentrate, I can open a path into the Dream... into Mordremoth's mind. Your minds will make the journey, but your bodies will remain here in the cavern."
"Just like Mother does," Caoilfhionn said. "Incredible!"
Rytlock grunted. "I've seen enough metaphysical landscapes lately. I'll stay behind to keep the Mordrem at bay."
"I'll stay too," Marjory said. "If something goes wrong... or Trahearne isn't what he seems to be... I'll be standing by."
"Trahearne is strong enough," Caoilfhionn said fiercely. "And so am I."
"You don't have to be so defensive," Marjory said.
"Let me fight," Caithe said to him. "You may not trust me, but we both know Mordremoth will enslave us all, just like Faolain. Let me help you end this. The Pale Tree may never recover... but someone has to destroy Mordremoth and lead our people out of the misery it created for us. I know you can do it. I want to help."
Caoilfhionn looked at all his friends and companions. Caithe wanted to come; so did Braham, and so did Canach, and so did Damara. But Damara stepped back. "I know how important this is to all of you. I'll watch your backs out here."
"Really?" Caoilfhionn asked, unsure if he were grateful or regretful. Both.
"Wait... so everyone going into Mordremoth's mind is a Sylvari except Braham?" Rytlock said. "Does anyone else see a problem here?"
"Nah," Braham said. "I'll do it myself if I have to."
"We will all support each other," Caithe said. "Be strong, everyone."
"You are ready?" Trahearne said. "I... I want you to know... I'm so proud of you all. Thank you."
"We're almost there, beloved," Caoilfhionn said to Trahearne, and found his eyes closing before he could see or hear Trahearne's response.
He was falling into a void, a void filled with vines, grasping and choking all light. A voice thundered around him, echoing through his head as if all that existed were pure sound. "You should not have come here. I am everywhere. I am all."
"Only in your mind," Caoilfhionn said, as he landed on a small fragment of coherent reality in this chaotic void, an island made of leystone and vines. "And I will reduce your mind to ashes before I'm done."
The dragon's ghostly face loomed before him. "Bold words. But empty ones."
He drew his sword and pointed it straight at the Dragon; his blade flamed as fiercely as Rytlock's with the strength of his passion. "We'll see how empty they are in a minute."
The Dragon snarled and vanished, and in its place they fought spectres – of Eir and Garm, of Canach, of the Pale Tree, all blighted and turned to the Dragon's control. But they were only illusions, and as they fought each of the phantoms, Mordremoth left itself vulnerable in its eagerness to destroy them. One by one, they brought low the illusions, and the Dragon growled in rage each time.
"We're weakening it," Caoilfhionn said in the first breathing space they bought for themselves, pointing to where the vines that made up this strange pocket dimension had begun to wither and crumble. "Breaking its grip on the mindscape gives us the chance to take control. Our minds have power here, too. Let's use it!"
A deep laugh cut him off. "I am the only possible victor. Become part of me and endure... or fall forever into oblivion. We are the same. Let your mind merge with mine."
Caoilfhionn stumbled to his knees as the full force of the Dragon's power bore down on him and him alone. "I can't... I can't concentrate... can't think... Help me! Mother... Trahearne...!"
Canach grabbed his shoulder. "You're stronger than this, Caoilfhionn! Focus your mind! Reject the Dragon!"
Caoilfhionn's only answer was a tortured scream. His head was bursting, his vision swimming and fading to shadows, and he could feel his skin crawling and hardening. All he could see was the Dragon – not the newly summoned draconic champion stomping towards them, but the true Dragon, the spirit of darkness and hunger, ready to consume his soul.
"Listen to me!" Caithe cried, running to one of the glowing pools that marked a hole in Mordremoth's mind. "There's another tear here, in the mindscape. Come close. I can help you."
"Braham, distract that thing for a minute!" Canach shouted, putting Caoilfhionn's arm over his shoulder and half-dragging him towards the rift, though Caoilfhionn felt himself struggling, dazed.
"Got it," Braham said, charging towards the huge, bipedal, ogre-like manifestation of the Dragon. "C'mere, ugly! Payback's only just started!" It swung a huge fist at him and he grunted as he caught it on his shield, getting driven back a pace, then gave it a crack with his mace.
Canach got him to the rift and dumped him headfirst into it as Caithe channeled its energy. With one more scream, Caoilfhionn felt the pressure of the dragon recede from his mind and body. "I... I think it worked. My head is clear again."
"Good," Canach said. "Glad we could return the favour. Now let's kill that thing."
Mordremoth summoned other illusions to attack them – Rytlock, Marjory, Damara... even Sieran, who had been dead for years. How insidious! But every time they opened a rift and defeated another illusion, the illusion joined their side.
And then he sensed an enemy from behind and whirled with a slash, to find himself facing... Trahearne. "This won't end well... for you."
"Trahearne!" He should have expected it, and yet he could not help his body freezing up. He could not lift his hand against his beloved...
But this wasn't his beloved, only an image of him, and he remembered it as the doppelganger swung his sceptre; Caoilfhionn ducked and slashed, rippling a wave of fire over his attacker, buying himself enough time to look around for the inevitable rift. But it hadn't manifested yet, so for the moment, he had to fight the one person he would never be able to fight in the real world. And Blighted Trahearne was just as good as the real one. Caoilfhionn ducked and wove, elemental magic sparking off of death magic, love and defiance flowing through him like a river.
He clenched his teeth as he dodged nimbly, twisting around spells and slashing his own back in return. How dare he!? How dare Mordremoth use the Sylvari – how dare he take Trahearne and twist even his image into a being of hatred and destruction!? And outside the real Trahearne suffered, fighting corruption with all his beautiful strength and will, struggling to remain himself just for a few minutes longer – how dare the Dragon!?
"I've got it!" cried Caithe, reaching into the rift that had formed by now. "Hold on, Caoilfhionn!"
Abruptly, Blighted Trahearne was yanked away from him, tugged into the rift – and with a flash, more vines fell from the mindscape as it unraveled just a bit more around the edges, and Trahearne's illusion lay there, unBlighted and with determination in his eyes. Caoilfhionn reached out and gave him a hand up.
Trahearne gave him a firm nod. "This is it, beloved."
"I'm with you, beloved," Caoilfhionn answered. "Time to end this." He turned back to Mordremoth's physical avatar, currently engaged in beating back Canach and the illusory Rytlock with its mighty arms. "Mordremoth!"
"I am power itself," Mordremoth answered. "I am life itself. To deny me is to embrace oblivion."
"Then I embrace it!" Caoilfhionn cried, defiance igniting to an inferno within him, protective rage surging through his sap. "I know dragons are supposed to be above us mortals... never knowing our small concerns... our cares, our joys... so old and powerful that any concept of mortality has ceased to matter. Well, if you want to take my love from me so badly, take it! Take it all, take my love, my joy, my hatred, my rage! May you know what it means to be a mortal! May you suffer every drop of anguish we have suffered before you draw your last breath at my hand! Come find what it means to give your life for everything you held dear!" With tears in his eyes, Fire blazed around him, and he charged.
Mordremoth growled, focusing upon him yet again, yet Caoilfhionn barely slowed, blasting through the interference with a gutteral yell, throwing himself at the Dragon's avatar, scorching it, overshooting and whirling to attack again from another angle. The world blurred before him, from tears, rage, and the Dragon's call, yet he powered through, striking at the largest target – the Dragon.
The Dragon's fist struck him full on and he was smashed to the ground with a cry of pain. The Dragon reached back to punch again, and Braham jumped in front. "Nope! Denied!"
And Trahearne and Canach were dragging him to his feet as Braham caught the blow upon his shield. "Up you come," Trahearne said. "Once more. Well done!"
Caoilfhionn was past listening even to Trahearne's voice, filled only with greater fury, his flames burning yet brighter. Magic surged through him, amplified by his feelings, on the verge of losing control and yet at the very pinnacle of his ability – every ounce of his power perfectly directed into destroying this being of destruction. Twice, thrice, and again, he charged and slashed, making the Dragon stumble and falter. With every strike, his focus sharpened as he disrupted Mordremoth's control over him.
The Dragon's avatar reeled and stumbled, trying to shield itself from his rage, and Canach gave a cry of triumph. "It's stunned! Hit it with everything you've got!"
The ground was shaking as vines crumbled, as leystones shattered, the arena shrinking smaller and smaller around them at an increasing rate. Every one of them, Canach, Braham, Caithe, Caoilfhionn, and the freed illusions of Rytlock, Marjory, Damara, Sieran, and Trahearne, was giving their all. The Dragon screamed as their swords bit into it, stumbling back until it fell down, helpless before them.
Caoilfhionn held his sword high, blazing as a torch. "You've failed, Mordremoth. For the Pale Tree! For Tyria!" He leapt forward – jumped off the shield Canach held for him – and plunged his sword to the hilt in the Dragon's avatar's chest. Fire rippled out in a wave, incinerating the entire avatar.
"What have you done!?" Mordremoth roared, its avatar crumbling, the entire arena crumbling, and they were falling, falling past the thorny vines that petered out into ashes, falling into a bright light...
