Faolain roared out like a wounded animal, loud enough for Asterix to catch the noise from afar as he kept running. Adrenaline rushed through his veins as he dreaded getting found by that monster. His concern wasn't for nothing – the egg was safely hidden in Caithe's backpack, now with him. Despite its size, the egg was shockingly lightweight. He could only imagine why.

He had to get it to safety, that was all he understood. If Mordremoth wanted it, then it was clearly very important. Far too important for it to end up in its claws.

There was no doubt left in his mind. That egg is a dragon egg. Why else bother being so secretive about it? Was it Mordremoth's? Or perhaps it belonged to another? Again, the words rang in his head: you don't know her.

Speaking of Caithe, he wasn't sure why she was suddenly so eager to change her mind and entrust him with it, either. Perhaps the threat was so dire, she knew it would be safer with him, while Faolain chased after her, still thinking she had the egg. There was something very strange about that object, for sure. The longer he carried it, the more its awareness began to seep into his mind. He was sure this must be something akin to dragon corruption, but the creature inside did not have malicious intent. At least, it didn't feel malicious. Not yet.

Safety… He had to bring it to safety. Just like Caithe told him. A heightened, or rather, an enhanced sense of direction told him where to go. It felt like a pull, or a stream, tugging him along in its currents towards only the gods know what exactly that place was that he was looking for. No, it wasn't really direction either. It was a different, new sense; unlike any other. It was like a strange pressure all around him. Dense. Walking along with the unseen, unheard flow of force. It made his hair stand up.

Magic… It was the first thing that came to mind. This must be the egg's doing. It was leading him to the source. To safety. And it was absolutely clear to him that it wanted this. And Mordremoth did not.

But after running so hard for who knew how long he was at it now… He enjoyed a good hike every now and then, but he was unaccustomed to this environment. Muscles were still sore from the fall, and he was thirsty. Eventually, he had to stop to catch his breath.

He didn't plan to pause for long. Faolain was no doubt looking for him. Any other Mordrem in the area would probably be doing the same. And with his sword gone too, he was completely at the mercy of whatever may catch him. And so would the egg be. Standing around like this was surely going to get him caught, so he readjusted the backpack and quietly started again with a brisk pace, just so he wouldn't be going at the tempo of a tortoise.

Suddenly a sound, closer than all the others, surprised him. He stopped only for a second to turn around and look for its source. There was nothing he could see, yet the rustling kept going.

"Gods…" Was it Faolain? Could it have already caught up to him?

Whatever it was, it was approaching fast. At this point, he wouldn't even trust a harmless bird to come near him. The Gaul turned and couldn't care less if he was still tired – he had to keep away from that thing no matter what. He ran as fast as he could, forgetting all about the burning in his muscles as the adrenaline started numbing out the pain. His new awareness of the magical energies pulled him closer towards his destination; a magnet pulling him in a straight line. He barely focused on anything else.

Perhaps that was his biggest mistake. Running blindly in a straight line didn't usually work in places with such uneven ground. One inconveniently placed root tripped him over, and before he could realize what exactly had happened, his tumble along the roots and dirt into the shallow river had ended. He could only tell because suddenly, besides his entire body hurting, he was now also wet.

Wait, where's the egg? Startled by the realization that his backpack was slack and weightless, he scrambled up again, persevering through the aches because he had to. His backpack was empty. The egg must have slipped out when he fell. And indeed, there it was nearby him, rolling along the shallow, gentle stream. Asterix quickly rushed towards it, clasping his hands onto the round shape to stop it from catching a stronger current.

He let out a sigh of relief. Thank the gods. It was still okay. The egg displayed that colorful glow again, its light reacting eagerly to him holding on to it. It had to mean it was still healthy. From a glance, he couldn't find any cracks or damage done to it. However, that might've been hard to accomplish anyway with its crystal exterior.

But, the pursuer…

"Hey, you."

Asterix hissed a cuss under his breath. This was starting to feel like déjà vu. It wasn't Faolain, but the cold but urgent tone of a male voice left him with a sense of dread anyway. He was not taking any chances this time, swiftly taking his empty rifle from his back and turning around in a single swift motion to face his enemy, hoping to scare him off. It caused a dull pain to sharpen as he twisted his back, but he grit his teeth and bore it. The rifle clashed with a sword. A terrifying, black greatsword adorned with ornate metal needles and a deep blood-red gem in the center of the blade.

That sword belonged to a human. A man whose thinly-bearded, sun-tanned face was the only bit of skin visible from underneath his hood and robes colored in a deep but muted violet. Honestly, how did he not see this man approach him so closely, with how much he was standing out from all the green? The man gave Asterix an intense, clenched gaze as if to quietly convey he had just made a huge mistake. The man shoved the rifle out of his face with a swift swing of the enormous blade, then freed one of his hands to make a sinking motion with it.

A powerful hum buzzed through Asterix's head, and he felt the blood suddenly drain away, making him feel more faint by the second. He realized, the robed character had taken control of his blood! Although he tried to resist, his head denied of something so precious swiftly put an end to the struggle, and he had to give in, nearly fainting and collapsing into the shallow water again.

"Wait… I… I'm unarmed," he gasped. "No b—bullets… No sword…"

Once he was defenseless, the necromancer dropped the spell and allowed the Gaul to get his bearings back. He tried to climb to his knees, but his balance was gone. Nauseated, he quietly waited for the dizziness to go away. As if on cue, once it was finally dissipating, the foe prodded him in the side with his boot.

"No sword. So this is yours, then?"

The stranger removed a small lifeless sword from his belt and displayed it in his gloved hand, then let it slip out of his fingers, dropping it into the water with a splash. The Gaul squinted at it resting on the river floor, trying to distinguish it in his daze. Eventually, he recognized the shape and color of its handle. It was definitely his. On one hand, he was grateful that the man found it and brought it back to him. But on the other, he was not in the mood to thank him. Before he would forget it again, he quickly grabbed the sword and pulled it to himself.

"Where did you…"

"Found it while tracking someone. Now tell me. Why do you have that egg?" the robed man asked.

Asterix pulled himself up, giving the necromancer an irritated leer, but not without struggling to keep his balance. "Why … do you want to know?"

"That egg belongs with me. A sylvari stole it."

"Caithe?"

"And when I finally caught her, she didn't have it," the man continued, indirectly confirming that it was indeed Caithe who had stolen it. He was probably thinking the same thing of Asterix right now, judging by the glare emanating from his cold eyes.

"If you must know…" Asterix began, climbing to his knees and pausing to rest some more. "…I didn't steal it from her. She entrusted me with it so Faolain wouldn't take it."

The stranger perked up with interest at the explanation. "…I see." He looked around, seemingly checking for things spying on them, then eventually stared out the same direction Asterix felt the still strong connection and urge to head to.

"You did good," he confirmed calmly. "I'll take it from here."

"No way!" the Gaul snapped back. "I don't know you, and I don't care if you know Caithe. I'm not letting some stranger take off with a dragon egg."

"Dragon…"the necromancer commented, shocked. "What else do you know?"

"Well…" But then, the Gaul started to second-guess himself. He really did not know a thing about this egg. He only had assumptions to go by, and the little bits of 'knowledge' it fed him. But his hesitation was not about to satisfy the necromancer. Suddenly, the man lifted his boot and dropped it down on Asterix's back, forcing him down and hitting the water again. He struggled for a moment, trying to keep his mouth and nose from going under from the weight put down on him.

"Hey! What gives!"

"Listen real good now," the tall figure threatened darkly, looming over him. "I'm your Pact commander, and the egg is my concern. Not yours. Matter of fact is, neither of us have time for this, so simply fall in line and cooperate, or stay out of my way."

"Some Pact commander you are," Asterix angrily growled at the man, struggling to get up again once the foot was lifted. The pain continued to cripple his movement, but he didn't want to reveal it, so he powered through it. "What are you planning to do with it?"

"That's none of your business."

"And you really think I'm gonna buy that?" Asterix retaliated. He watched the Commander's expression darken, clenching his fists around his greatsword's handle. It would be easy for the necromancer to beat him up again and take it by force, and he looked ready to do it too. But a terrible roar caught the both of them off guard.

"Damnit…!" the man hissed, and he turned around swiftly, taking on a defensive stance. The monster had finally caught up and revealed itself through the thicket, enraged by Caithe's earlier trick. The spines on its back were flaring out, and fangs were visible in the maw of an otherwise humanoid face. Still, sylvari once or not, its snarling form was a terrifying beastly image.

"It's Faolain… You can't fight it!" the Gaul tried to warn. The Commander turned his head toward him, scoffing.

"You can't fight it. Just take the egg and run! There's an ancient city nearby. It'll be safe there. Follow the golden structures!"

Asterix's doubt remained, but he nodded. He spared no moment and immediately did as he was told. He collected the egg, stuffing it into the backpack one more time and lifting it up. The tears and holes in the bag could give its presence away, but damned if anyone saw it. He couldn't waste any more time.

"For the love of— Go!" the Commander roared impatiently. Faolain was already nearly there, screeching and reaching out for them both. Would it not be for the necromancer swinging his dark blade to make the beast flinch and think again, it could already have achieved its goal. Asterix only glanced back once before pulling the bag to himself and making one last effort to run to safety. While he did run, he was considerably slower now, his motivation to stay alive pressured by fatigue.

The golden structures – an ancient city – that has to be the place. Even the golden pillars dotted across the jungle were now radiating with a much more intense energy. The noise of the fight behind him was fading. Still, he couldn't stop here, even with the strong desire to do anything but all this running. He would pay for it if he did.

Finally, his stumbling was at an end when a wall blocked his path forward. It was the city's, no doubt. Tall as the trees themselves, its smooth golden sheen and strangely shaped patterns were clearly visible underneath a thin cover of vines. But even if it was a sign that he was close, how was he going to get in if a damned wall was standing in his way? Asterix stopped and leaned his whole body against it, taking a moment to recollect his breath. While he rested, he scanned the surface, and a thin, suspicious crease caught his eye. Just wide enough to peer through to the other side and reveal small golden glimpses, it ran straight from top to bottom.

"Hey… Let me in!" Asterix called out, leaning against the door and pounding it with a fist. Yet he couldn't get a response out of it, let alone get the heavy thing to budge. In frustration he started tearing at the vines instead, seeking conclusions to as to why the gate might not open. Perhaps nobody was at the other side. Perhaps the plants or rust had blocked its mechanisms. Or maybe, the people behind the door, if there were any, simply did not care.

The Gaul's head was spinning. In his stupor, he was beginning to wonder if this was some elaborate prank being played on him just so he could suffer. Worn out from literally everything, his body sank to the dirt and refused to do more. He didn't have any solutions left. He could only wait.

He was waiting, still. When his body allowed more than feign death, the Gaul had retreated into the dense thicket growing against the wall near the gate, and taken cover there. He was sure nothing could see him. The egg was as safe as he could make it. Wrapping his arms around it and resting it in his lap, it was still inside the backpack to make sure its light didn't catch any attention. The warmth that radiated through its covers helped ease his aches, but he remained on high alert. He realized dragon minions may not be fooled by his hiding place, sensing the egg's magic regardless of where it was, but so far it had worked for the other predators, and nothing else had approached him yet.

Then, the same character in purple robes appeared into view from beyond the green. Asterix had hoped he would come, and he had planned to call for him once he was near. But the human necromancer was approaching him with such single-mindedness that there wasn't any need. He already knew he was there. No doubt he was utilizing his strange magic to track his life force down, or something similar to it. If anyone was able to control others' blood, or the dead, it had to be necromancers. They still made him shudder, imagining what else they were capable of. Although looking a little worse for wear, the man appeared to have gotten through the fight alright. But had he really slain Faolain? She— It might have just gotten away.

When the man quietly stopped closely in front of him, Asterix found himself somehow waiting with bated breath. The Commander kneeled into a squat, making eye contact almost immediately. Despite how calm he seemed, his icy blue gaze was something intense.

"I'm surprised you listened," the man commented. The Gaul sighed listlessly as a response.

"I still need that egg back, though."

"Why is it that everyone is so defensive about this thing?" Asterix began with a sudden question. "To the point where they don't trust anyone else?"

For some reason, the Commander started to smile. It wasn't a warm one, but with a pitying tinge to it. "Well, I'm no expert, but I can imagine it's the only way a lonely, vulnerable baby dragon knows how to defend itself."

"Knows…" the Gaul repeated, slightly confused by what exactly the Commander meant.

"You noticed it, right? That desire to keep it from danger no matter what?"

"Yeah."

The Commander placed an index finger against his temple, hinting at the mind. Suddenly, it clicked in Asterix's head. It was some kind of mental manipulation.

"If you know it's tricking us into cooperating with it, then why are you just going along with it?" he asked.

"Believe me, there's more to this one than meets the eye."

"Really… How?"

"I'll explain when we have the time for it, but for now…" the man stood up, lifted one hand palm-side up and eyed the egg, nodding his head once.

Asterix stared for a while, pondering the Commander's words. Finally, his embrace around the egg cautiously loosened. "…Fine."

"You're doing the right thing."

"Yeah… I hope you're right," Asterix made sure to affirm after the Commander, watching on with a distrustful tension as the man secured the egg for himself. The Commander inspected it thoroughly, smiling finally at the glimmering object in his arms, reunited with it at long last.

Somehow, it was his touch that finally triggered the city to respond with a rumble, catching the two by surprise. The plant growth that grew on the gates over the years gave way as they were either stretched until they ripped in half, or their roots were pulled out of the ground. The doors were larger than the Gaul thought, and he stumbled backwards with shock as the door no longer allowed him to rest against it. When he rebalanced himself and turned to watch on as the wall split and made the way clear into the city, the gatekeeper, a tall, floating and glowing figure, approached them.

"Thank Glint. You've made it," it praised.

There was something very tranquil about the night sky.

An incredible view of a million stars, some far apart, others packed densely together like schools of fish. The surface was an endless stretch of dunes, with small pieces of colorful glass mixed in its sand.

This wasn't the usual nightmare he had become so familiar with, but he knew it was still a dream regardless. The one thing that was still the same was that there was a dragon. Except this one wasn't so large it could touch the clouds. It reached only the height of a young tree. Nor was it baring its fangs and setting everything on fire. It was in fact lying in the sand with its back turned to him, looking longingly at the sky. At night, it would be easy to not see it in the dark. But its long crystal spines glowing faintly, and glimmering scales and wings reflecting the light of the stars gave its shape away.

Crystal, just like the egg…

Although he was aware that this wasn't real, he was approaching the dragon outside of his control anyway. He didn't know for sure if it would turn against him if he got too close, but something told him it wouldn't, and his intuition was right. So far, it wasn't paying any attention to him, even when he was eventually standing right there next to it.

After a minute of silence, the creature paused a moment to turn its head to him. It had an ancient and tormented, but kind face, and its blue radiant eyes were scanning him up and down. He stared back, doing the same. So many scars on its battle-exhausted body. Some looked like they must have been so large and severe that it couldn't possibly have survived them. The webbing of its wings were in shreds. Impossible to carry its bulk. It made sense why it seemed so obsessed with the sky, missing the freedom of flight.

Eventually, it lost interest in him, and turned its head to gaze at the sky again. It made no effort to scare him away, instead its silence inviting him to join it. And he had to agree, the view was awe-inspiring. The voice that followed cut through the air and immediately disrupted all the serenity.

"Alright, that's enough. Come on. Wake up!"

"Huh…" Asterix was suddenly finding himself grounded back in reality. He hadn't opened his eyes yet, but he could feel the sleep lingering like a thick mist. In his entire stay in Tyria, he only ever had that one dream of his people tormented by a dragon. This new one was going to be on his mind for a while with a strong desire to decipher its meaning.

He sat himself up and stretched out, absorbing his surroundings only through sound cues of exotic birds singing and the torrent and scent of a nearby waterfall. When he opened his eyes, he was finally met with the view of a long sunlight filled room without a ceiling, tiled with gilded bricks, and fountains of fresh water at the center where blooming moss gathered. He was in fact quite high up, closer to touching the canopy than ever, finally seeing the sky again as only the tallest trees could reach this far up. Stationed on one of the gilded buildings' balconies, he could spot the same waterfall descending through the windows. He had never quite met a sight like it before. He was together with a sitting norn that smiled and waved at him. It was hard not to recognize him with that bushy brown beard and vigil armor.

He finally let out a long yawn. "Hey, Olaf."

"Morning!"

Asterix refocused his gaze at the sky, noting the height at which the sun stood. "How long did I sleep?"

"About 16 hours now," the norn answered, grinning.

"Wow..."

"Yep, seemed like you needed it."

That was true. He hadn't had such a good night's sleep in a long time, and he was thankful that he finally did. He felt incredibly well rested now. Even the soreness he felt before had gone away like magic. But suddenly, he took notice of the norn's beaten-up appearance.

"Wait, what happened to you?" Asterix asked. Olaf sighed with resignation.

"After that last scuffle with the Mordrem, I'm not in the condition to fight no more. So I stayed behind in the city. I know when I'm a dead weight in the team." The norn was pointing at his shoulder. His armor plate was removed so that the wound could be bandaged. However, there were other things clearly not right; a stab through the shoulder wouldn't stop a norn. A broken leg could, evident by the splint and linen tightly bound around the man's exposed shin. It brought back some memories the Gaul would rather shake off.

"Yeah…" he answered quietly. "I'm sorry, I locked up back there. You're hurt because of me."

Olaf blinked, then he roared out a laugh. "Yeah! You owe me! Next time, I expect you to buy me a beer." He had a big grin on his face.

"When this is all over, I'll buy you one anyway."

"I'll take you up on that!"

Asterix took a long look around, slowly recollecting memories as the tall golden structures reminded him. This was the safe place – better known as Tarir, the Forgotten City. It wasn't quite a city, but rather a bastion, now safekeeping the egg that had been on his mind ever since he first came across it. Its nearby presence had reawakened the city, turning it from a dormant ruin into a secure fortress powered by ancient magic. Even now, he could feel the fine warm vibrations of its energy all around him. Either it was so powerful that he too could finally sense it, or the egg's… gift… had lasting effects on him. Asterix didn't know if everyone else knew about it by now, but it seemed wise to keep quiet about it.

He remembered when the gate opened, and its inhabitants greeted the Commander and him as heroes. They called themselves the Exalted. He could see them from the high vantage point even now, going about their business maintaining the walls and patrolling the area. The Exalted were something else, entirely. Sentient, floating magical constructs with intricate art carved into their golden armor. Each of them was once a person, who proved themselves worthy of having their souls and bodies converted into pure energy, then encapsulated in these strange metal suits. It allowed them to live as nigh immortal beings, forever bound by a great purpose.

But… that's where things became fuzzy. Soon after he was surrounded by the city's safety, the chatter of them explaining who and what they were was turning into a blur. He got overpowered by fatigue fast, and he must've conked out before he realized it was happening. But this he knew: the egg and this place were related to each other. They were meant to be united, and it was meant to be cared for here. Perhaps even to raise a dragon and teach it benevolence.

To him, that seemed like the most logical conclusion. It also seemed like that was what the Commander was implying. It definitely wasn't a dud or some lifeless artifact, even though it hardly looked organic to begin with. It was alive, no doubt about it. Speaking of the Commander…

"The Commander, is he still here?"

"Moved on. Most of the Pact followed. They're getting ready for the big fight."

"What about our squad?"

"Blademaw's squad is still in Tarir, but they're preparing to leave soon," the norn explained. He pointed down to the southern gate located in the distance, difficult to miss, and one was even able to see the armies making preparations to leave. For a city, its infrastructure was amazingly straightforward. One outer gate at each cardinal direction. Near the center, another wall with four more gates surrounded the central field, barricading the inner chambers. The place was strategically built to protect its precious contents. Yes… He could feel it. The egg was going to be perfectly safe there.

"Go ahead and take my gear; whatever you need. There's ammo in the left-side pocket." The norn warrior smiled one more time as he said so. "If you're still coming with them, give Mordremoth a fistful for me, will ya?"

"I'll do even more than that…" Asterix responded as he began checking over his gear and weapons. An intense glare spread on his face. "I'll finish the job for you."