There was a lift at the end of the tunnel. Imagine my surprise when I emerged above and found the moon hanging low overhead. I was atop the crystal plateau somehow. I could have laughed, but I was afraid of the Frenzied Flame taking me.
I made the dragon's sign.
The earth rumbled beneath me, and a trail of crystals ran over the ground like a wave. In a burst of glimmering, the strange sea-dragon rose from the earth.
"I imagine you are not so zealous for the fight
that you would challenge a god after only one night.
That the touch of yelough came near you is clear,
yet how is it that the Three Fingers reach even here?"
Praying was an innovation of the Golden Order. Formalized begging. Confession too, a form of thought control. Yet what I said next felt much like confession. My relief at the end was great. It is little surprise that most fall for the trick earnestly.
I ranted and raved at an archdragon which could have silenced me forever. She sat and listened and asked questions. She didn't empathize. It was clinical, like the sorcerers she had called her grandchildren.
At the end, she smiled. Have you ever seen a dragon smile? The smirk of the ultimate apex predator? It shook me sober.
I agreed to the pact on behalf of myself and the knights and whomever else would join us. My former family was below our very feet. We could protect the Academy from attack perhaps, but not the caves which were our water supply. The creatures of the Rot hated water and would certainly taint it if the opportunity was presented. The auspices of an archdragon would make them think twice.
For her part, our new patron seemed interested in our cause. No. She seemed interested in how the Rot and the Frenzied Flame had comingled.
She didn't feel uncaring to our danger or to my wife's betrayal. She felt appropriately patronizing. She was concerned about us in a vague sense of obligated empathy.
I do not know if she could not recognize her own tone or if she simply did not care. But the way she spoke of her fallen child, and the way she spoke of us were worlds apart. She longed for the rebirth of her child, and we were unfortunate surrogates until that day.
That suited me fine. If my own blood would betray me, then why should I expect more of an ancient beast?