Today, I am one year older, though not necessarily wiser. I have prepared a special gift for you, my readers, to mark the occasion... umm, where is it? Oops. Never mind. You can have this chapter instead!


Chapter Twenty-Two

Within the Thunder

The Nightsilver Woods, one year ago…

'Do you love me?'

Mirana opened her bleary eyes, blinking in an attempt to clear them. She shivered briefly, aware of the coolness against her bare skin. It took her a moment to register the question asked of her. Selemene always asked the same question every time, before and after they lay together. It had surprised her the first few times, though now she was accustomed to it.

Selemene gazed down at her, already clad in Her robes once again. Mirana felt momentarily giddy, gazing up at Her, tall, shapely and curvaceous, impossibly and hauntingly beautiful.

She barely noticed the hint of menace her goddess possessed, the sharp, unforgiving angles of Her face with its high, prominent cheekbones.

Mirana struggled out of the bed and carefully knelt on the floor, still a little shaky. Being with Selemene was… unlike anything she had ever experienced. Unlike anything she had even dreamed of. 'With...' she tried again, still fatigued. 'With all of my heart and soul, my Goddess.'

Their nights of passion always left her exhilarated, but drained. So very few ever became so close to the goddess, and she counted herself as one of the blessed few. Maybe more fortunate, since Selemene favoured her to an unusual degree.

She had heard the whispers. How could she not? People stared at her and murmured behind her back, claiming that Selemene treated her differently. Apparently, it was the norm for Selemene to sleep with other members of the commune on a whim. Priestess, soldier or worker, it mattered not, though from what Mirana had heard Selemene seemed to exclusively desire women. Why, she did not know, and she had not asked.

But ever since Mirana had joined the Order, Selemene had only wanted her. Nobody else. Just her.

Selemene smiled down at her. 'And I love you too, my Princess.' There was genuine warmth in those words, and Mirana's heart both fluttered with pleasure and subtly squirmed with a twinge of guilt. But if Selemene noticed the latter, She did not speak of it.

Mirana smothered the guilt quickly. 'I live to serve you, in whatever way you desire.'

Selemene crouched and cupped Mirana's chin with Her long, dextrous fingers. Feeling entranced, Mirana rose with Her, barely aware of the goosebumps breaking out across her skin. It had all passed in a blur of pleasure and passion once again, and she had no idea how long she had been here with Selemene.

It seemed trite to call this chamber "Selemene's bedroom". It was, but the title did it a disservice. It was a magnificently appointed chamber atop the tower which formed the Temple of the Moon. The bed took up more than half of the chamber. The room actually dwarfed Mirana's chambers back in Rasolir.

She had not thought about her homeland for some time now. This was her home. Mirana smothered the twinge of guilt as it returned, focusing only on Selemene's incredible eyes. The violet irises shone in darkness and light alike, piercing and keen. Selemene's skin was cool to the touch, and Mirana's flesh tingled with the contact.

'Do you still miss your homeland?' Selemene asked. Though She did not seem to be able to read minds, She had an uncanny ability to read people.

'Yes,' Mirana confessed. 'A little. But this is my home now, and I am glad to be here. With you.'

Selemene smiled. 'Good. That makes me glad, my Princess.'

Mirana smiled too.

Selemene reluctantly looked away from Mirana's face, turning to the curtains. 'It will be dawn soon. You need your rest, Mirana.'

Mirana nodded. 'Yes. Marci… she'll be waiting for me.'

'She's so loyal to you.' There was something in Selemene's tone which Mirana could not make sense of, not in her current befuddled state. 'With her unusual strength, I sometimes wonder if she would be better off serving under Luna.'

Mirana frowned slightly. 'Marci is… she's sworn to protect me. She would prefer to stay here.'

'You do not think that her talents are wasted as a bodyguard?'

'She does not like killing people.'

'Yet she does so willingly for you.'

Mirana hesitated. 'We're friends. For a long time, she was my only friend.'

'You care about her, deeply.' Was there a hint of accusation in Her voice now?

Mirana was silent for a moment, still a little confused. 'I do. She's… she means so much to me, and she's sacrificed so much for me. She's... she's all I have left from my old life, and I'm all she has left.'

'I worry about her faith.'

'She is loyal to you, as she is loyal to me.' Mirana countered, now feeling faintly irritated on Marci's behalf. 'You can trust her, my Goddess.'

Selemene seemed to relent. 'Of course. And she does perform her duties as she should. I am still curious as to how she gained her strength.'

Mirana allowed a small smile. 'So am I. She is remarkable. But I doubt that we'll ever know.'

Selemene gestured at the untidy pile of robes on the floor. 'You had better get dressed, my Princess. As much as I enjoy seeing you this way, it would not do for you to wander around the commune naked.'

Mirana scooped up her ceremonial robes, as well as her tiara, and put them on, struggling a little due to exhaustion. It had been an amazing night, both of them eager and ready to give.

Selemene watched her, the desire still in Her eyes. She did not stop her, as reluctant as She was for Mirana to leave.

When she was ready, Selemene waved Her hand and Mirana was enveloped in silvery light. She found herself back on the ground floor of the Temple, and once again she was uncoordinated and clumsy, as if she was drunk.

There were few people around at this hour. It was customary for all save the sentries to retire late in the night and rise later in the day than most would.

Mirana staggered outside. Sure enough, Marci was waiting for her.

Marci quickly jumped to her feet and gently took Mirana's arm, guiding her towards their lodgings. The brief walk passed in a blur for Mirana, still remembering the time she had spent with Selemene. What a night it had been! How she longed to be with Her again!

Mirana tripped on the threshold. If Marci had not been there to steady her, she would have fallen. She was really drained today, more so than usual. She was tempted to ask Marci if she could bring bedding downstairs, because she doubted that she could manage the steps.

It was funny how the effect struck her, usually as she was leaving Selemene's chambers. She had never questioned it. She supposed that this was what happened when you became intimate with a goddess.

She almost collapsed again as they neared the stairs, struggling to keep her eyes open. Marci sighed.

Mirana was not so sleepy that she failed to noticed Marci's arm move around the back of her legs. She was aware of being lifted, and realised that Marci was carrying her.

She felt her cheeks flush. Marci was carrying her bridal style. She managed to drape her arms around Marci's shoulders, suddenly very aware of how close she was.


Marci dutifully carried her to her bed and lay her down. She carefully lifted Mirana's legs again to draw back the covers, pulling them over Mirana. She looked down at her, taking in the mess which was her long hair, the dilated pupils almost filling her irises, the way her limbs still shook a little.

Marci did wonder about this. She had figured out what Mirana and Selemene did together years ago. She may have been inexperienced, but she was not stupid. She too supposed that this was the effect a deity could have on people. But she did worry a little. She had seen similar effects in those who had taken potent narcotics back in Rasolir.

Bandus had once tried something like that. How her father had yelled at him when he had figured it out. He'd then gone on something of a rampage, all but tearing the hovel apart in the search for more illicit substances, intending to throw them away.

Bandus had been less than happy when Marci had uncovered his stash. She'd been there when her father had burned the substances, telling her that such things could never bring true happiness, only misery.

"They may please you for a short while," he had told her, "but it is only temporary. True joy is something which lasts, and it is something you must find yourself."

Marci felt her eyes brim. She missed him. She missed all of them.

She had left them to die.

They were dead because of her.

'Mmm,' Mirana groaned sleepily. 'Marci? Marci, are you upset? What's wrong?'

Marci wiped her eyes, annoyed with herself. Mirana came first, that was one of the few things which had allowed her to cope.

Mirana blinked up at her, her pupils starting to return to their normal size. Marci knew that she needed to sleep and turned to leave.


Mirana reached out and tried to catch Marci's hand. She partially succeeded, wrapping her fingers around Marci's thumb instead. Marci halted at once. 'Don't go,' Mirana pleaded softly, still slurring a little. 'Stay. Please.'

Marci dithered for a moment, then nodded. She made to sit down on the bedspread, but Mirana pulled back the covers and slid over to give her room. Marci slipped into bed beside her and pulled the covers back into position.

For a long moment, Mirana did not speak. She just gazed at her handmaiden, wanting to cheer her up but struggling to think rationally.

They had not done this for a few years now. There had been times during the early days, when Marci had been plagued almost every night by memories of the attack which had robbed her of her voice, when Mirana had slept at her side, holding her close, promising to keep her safe. When they had fled Rasolir after the Bloody Dance, they had often held each other as they slept, if only to keep warm in the wilderness. They had sometimes cried themselves to sleep, one comforting the other, both drawing strength from each other.

She shuffled a little closer to Marci, draping an arm across her shoulder, her fingertips brushing her neck and passing through tufts of feathery auburn hair. Her skin was warm, unlike Selemene's. Her eyes were softer, gentler. She could look upon Selemene and know that She was powerful, capable of inducing fear in others. But with Marci, even though Mirana had seen her kill, usually with just fist and foot, she struggled to believe that she was dangerous at times like this.

She was Marci. Her Marci. A friend when all others had been distant. The most loyal and devoted soul she had ever known.

Though Mirana tried to deny it, and had hidden it for over four years now, a part of her still could not deny the truth: that her feelings of love for Marci were still there, deep within the halls of her heart. Marci was always there for her. Always. She wanted her to be happy, more than anything else in the world, she just wanted Marci to be happy.

Was she? Mirana didn't think so, and it broke her heart to see her struggling to overcome her sorrow, knowing that she could only help her so much, not knowing what else could bring her joy again.

Maybe she should have told her how she felt before the Bloody Dance. If only she'd had a sibling. If she'd not been an only child, she could have confessed her feelings for Marci to her parents, and they would have had another Princess or a Prince to take her place as heir. And perhaps she and Marci could have been together. But the only other option had been Shabarra.

Well, he'd gotten what he wanted regardless.

Mirana gazed into Marci's lovely amber eyes, noticing that she was starting to drift off. She was not like Selemene. She was slim, petite and athletic rather than tall and voluptuous. Selemene's skin was perfectly smooth and unblemished, cool to the touch. Marci had scars, but her skin was always warm.

In her current state, Mirana found herself recalling those old feelings again. She found herself thinking just how beautiful Marci was in her eyes. She was no Selemene, not a goddess. But she was perfect in her own way.

This was what she had to hide, from both Selemene and herself, and from Marci too. Yes, she did love Selemene. She truly did. But though she had suppressed her true feelings for Marci, her love for her, it remained, and she feared that one day she would not be able to hide it.

What would Selemene do if She found out that she still held such affection for her handmaiden? She had been reluctant to allow Marci to stay in the first place. Though She seemed to have accepted her, would She cast Marci out if the truth came to light?

Soft, warm, gentle breaths wafted across her face now. Marci had fallen asleep.

Mirana smiled, starting to feel more like herself. She moved in closer, allowing herself to give in to a tiny desire, just to alleviate the guilt a little. It would be a small thing, an innocent moment if anybody asked.

Mirana gently touched her lips to Marci's forehead. Marci shifted a little and moved in closer, embracing Mirana as she slept.

Mirana held her, the conflict in her heart settling just a little. Perhaps one day, she would make her decision. Perhaps one day, Marci would find somebody. She had been eyeing a couple of the soldiers recently. Maybe one of them would become interested in her, and she might have a chance of being happy with somebody. That would make things easier for both of them.

Mirana would always love her, but she wanted her to be happy.

And if Selemene ever discovered the truth, if She ever cast Marci out, then Mirana would follow her, no matter how difficult things became, no matter how much she missed Selemene.

She would gladly suffer an eternity of torment for Marci. She would do that and more, because she loved her.

More than anything else in the world.


Now…

Mirana gazed down at her bow, aware of the glow exuding from it once again. She had been right. Emotion clearly roused the magic Aiushtha had coaxed out of it, and her, and it seemed that her love for Marci was the most potent catalyst.

She deliberately drew her thoughts elsewhere, thinking of Selemene, the time they had spent together, their passion for one another, how she had possessed such faith for Selemene, how grateful she had been for Her protection, Her love.

The glow diminished a little. It remained, but was fainter now.

Mirana sighed and thought of Marci again, how Marci had sacrificed so much to protect her, how much Marci had suffered. Mirana thought about what she would have willingly given, had she the power, to save Marci from those choices, from the wounds of the past, to give her a chance of finding true contentment.

The glow intensified.

Mirana blinked and wiped her brimming eyes. Had it all been a lie? She loved Selemene, she really did. At least, that was what she told herself. She had convinced herself of it, or so she had thought.

Yet once again, it seemed that the truth could not be denied. Her heart truly belonged to Marci. It had always been her.

It always would be.

She turned her head, gazing down at Marci. She was asleep next to her, one arm draped across Davion's chest.

Mirana knew that they could never be together, not really, not in the way Marci wanted to be with Davion. Though this made her heart ache with longing, she knew that she would have been content for her handmaiden to love Davion, so long as he loved her in turn. She just wanted Marci to be happy.

But it was not to be. Marci was going to lose him too.

It wasn't fair! She deserved better! She deserved him if she wanted him!

Mirana looked up at the heavens, the bleeding moon catching her eye. She wanted to scream up at the sky, rage at whatever gods dwelt amongst the stars. 'Hasn't she given enough? Hasn't she sacrificed enough for you yet? What more do you want of her? Enough! Let her have the peace she deserves! You've taken too much from her!'

She sighed and lowered her head. She became aware of Purist watching her and started to blush. Did he know what she was thinking? Did he even sleep?

Could she blame the gods for everything? Maybe. Maybe not. Shabarra was the one who had driven them from the Imperium and killed their families. He might have claimed to be descended from divinity, as Mirana was, but she was certain that no god had told him to murder his way to power. That had been his choice alone.

Fymryn was sitting on the edge of the camp, her back to a tree. She had betrayed them for Mene's sake, and Mirana was angry with her for it. But if Selemene had asked the same of her, would she have done the same?

It scared her to know that she might have done. The only person she would never have betrayed, even for Selemene, was Marci. She had been all too willing to abandon Davion to his fate twice, with Marci being the one to persuade her to help him. Mirana would have left him to fend for himself alone just for the vague chance of finding the lotuses sooner rather than later, just to return to Selemene's side as quickly as possible. Of course, she had wanted to help Marci redeem herself, but her desire to be with Selemene again had been a major factor too.

Mirana hung her head. There had been moments when she had felt resentment towards Marci. If she had been faster, more aware, they would still have been safe and sound in the Nightsilver Woods. She hated herself for letting those thoughts rise. Marci had given up so much, and she had been right to save Davion, because if she hadn't…

It still filled Mirana with shame to recall their disastrous crossing of the Broken Peaks. If Marci had not convinced her to save Davion, if he hadn't been there…

Mirana would have lost her, and she could never have lived with that. Mirana may have been descended from divinity, but in her eyes Marci was the better person. She was so selfless, kind and caring, but also steadfast, loyal and willing to fight for what she believed in and those she cared about. If she had been royalty, she would have made a good Empress. No wonder Terrorblade had tried to tempt her with an offer of power. But she had still refused his offers, as tempting as they had been, and Mirana was not sure she would have had the strength to do the same.

Mirana wiped her eyes. It did her no good to think like this. This was now, not then, and nothing could change the past.

Perhaps their failure was for the best, as twisted as that seemed. The Invoker was a resourceful and determined man. If Fymryn had failed, if Marci had caught her, he would have found another way to achieve his goals. Perhaps Marci would have died defending the Temple from his forces instead, and Mirana might have fallen with her. Besides, she too had failed to stop Fymryn. The blame lay with her too.

Kashurra had spent many years trying to teach her of the burden of responsibility, but it was Marci who had truly opened her eyes. She could not help but feel that she had forgotten some of her decency and compassion when she had become Selemene's Princess of the Moon.

'You are too hard on yourself.'

Mirana was unsurprised to hear Purist say that. 'I don't think so.' She shook her head. 'You can read minds, I suppose?'

'No.' Purist sat down at her side. 'But I have a gift for reading people, and the Omniscience told me a little of your suffering. Yours and Marci's.'

'If your Omniscience is so gifted, why doesn't it try to stop this?'

Purist looked at her pityingly. 'You served a deity too. You know why.'

Mirana sighed heavily. 'The Covenant.'

The Covenant was almost as old as creation itself. When the Primal Mind had fractured, it had left myriad pieces of itself to form into new deities, each holding tiny motes of its awesome power.

Arguably the most powerful, or at least the most aware, had been the Omniscience. An accord had been struck, decreeing that no deity could directly interfere in the ways of the world except in certain circumstances, nor were they permitted to directly oppose one another, for the destruction they could cause would be terrible, and perhaps absolute. Their wars were instead fought by proxies who served in their names, proxies like Luna and Fymryn.

Selemene had come close to breaking the Covenant a few times. She interacted directly with mortals, which some gods frowned upon. Then again, so had Mene, and Mene had planned to conjure the Dark Moon. Even now, She was blinding the Omniscience with Her newfound power, taking advantage of the weakened state it suffered from, induced by a lack of faith. Selemene had stopped Her once, but now She could not do so again. Mirana was not sure how the Covenant was enforced, but there were apparently harsh penalties for a deity who broke it. The Covenant had kept an uneasy peace between the gods. If they ever ignored it and fought, they would likely end up destroying each other, and maybe all of creation. It was tenuous, but it worked.

Unfortunately, it seemed that the Covenant might be the undoing of creation anyway, for Terrorblade clearly knew that the gods could not stop him directly, lest they break their own rules. Perhaps there were even those amongst the pantheons which approved of Terrorblade's plan.

'Indeed.' Purist confirmed. 'Believe me, nothing would satisfy the Omniscience more than being able to right the wrongs of this suffering world personally. But it is not to be. That is why I am here. That is why people like you and Marci, Davion, Eserren, Caewyn, and Fymryn and Aiushtha are here too.'

'Fymryn?' Mirana whispered, glancing over at the unusually pensive and silent elf.

'She has chosen to fight Terrorblade too. She fights for what she believes is right. I have no more love for Mene than you do, and perhaps she will become our enemy in time. But for now, she is on our side.'

'I should hate her.' Mirana muttered.

'And do you?'

Mirana sighed. 'You know the answer.'

Purist nodded. 'Some bonds transcend all else. You know this.' He indicated Marci, who was sitting up and yawning widely.

Mirana smiled at her handmaiden. Marci rubbed her eyes, smiled at Mirana, then nudged Davion.

Davion twitched, but did not awaken. Marci frowned and nudged him again, a little harder this time. He twitched again, but remained asleep. Mirana frowned as she noticed his eyelids fluttering. She could also see something moving under his skin.

Was he about to transform?

'Marci,' Mirana hissed, picking up her bow. 'Stand back.'

Fymryn must have noticed that something was amiss. She roused Aiushtha and padded over. 'What's wrong? Is he changing again?'

Marci reached out to nudge him again, even as Mirana told her to get back.

'No,' Purist did not bother to whisper. 'He will wake when he's ready, or rather when Slyrak is ready.'

Marci stared at him, her eyes full of fear.

'No, he isn't taking over.' Purist assured her. 'They are communing in the Thunder.'

'How do you know?' Fymryn demanded.

'I have been told.' Purist answered evenly. 'My patron's sight is clouded, but the Omniscience tells me what it can.'

'Is it… dangerous?' Aiushtha asked quietly.

'That remains to be seen. It depends on what they decide.' Purist answered. 'And that is something the Omniscience could not tell me even at the height of its power.'

'I thought it was omnipotent?'

Purist sighed. 'There are some things that can never be known, even by those who see all.'

Marci remained by Davion's side, watching him as he slumbered.

He was a good man, and he really did care for Marci. It was such a shame that he would be lost to them one day.

Mirana sighed. If she'd had the power, she would have tried to help him, if only because he would bring Marci happiness.


'It is time. Do not interfere. Not yet.'

He found himself in that strange space again, swirling with colours he could not name.

There was no ground, but there was a dragon waiting patiently. Davion recognised the violet scales, bulky form, wide head and mace-like tail instantly: a void dragon.

He had never seen one in the flesh before, but he wasn't sure if he was actually present. He felt more like an observer, like he was elsewhere.

'Be silent.' Slyrak ordered. 'Still your thoughts. Watch.'

Curious now, Davion did as he was bidden. He had the feeling that the dragon was no ordinary void dragon. There was a palpable sense of raw power emanating from it, and those glittering eyes were not the eyes of a simple predator. This dragon was intelligent.

An Eldwurm. Byssrak.

Out of the eddies of colour emerged another dragon, this one crocodilian and sapphire scaled. She came to rest next to Byssrak and began to pace restlessly, snorting and snarling. This had to be Lirrak, the Eldwurm of Water.

Now Davion knew what this was: the Thunder. It was said that the Eldwurms could somehow commune over vast distances. This was how they did it, sending their minds into the Thunder as their avatars slumbered.

A sinuous golden dragon appeared next, undulating and slithering in the air. Orrak.

For a moment, Davion wondered if he could somehow communicate with these dragons. Of all things, he was tempted to ask Orrak if she knew how Marci had inherited a radiant dragon's blood.

Orrak glanced in his direction. Davion forced his mind to go blank shortly before Slyrak reminded him to be quiet. So they could sense his thoughts. Yet they could not detect Slyrak's. Either he was somehow able to conceal himself, or he needed Davion to "speak" for him.

Orrak continued to stare at Davion, though she did not see him. The golden eyes of the dragon were unsettling. Radiant dragons were the most tolerant of all dragons, but were incredibly dangerous when provoked.

Orrak's gaze was intimidating, yet very much like Marci's whenever she unleashed her latent power. But he knew that he could trust Marci. In a way, he thought, Marci reflected the nature of a radiant dragon, beautiful and lethal in equal measure.

He stilled his thoughts again as the dragons glanced in his direction.

A winged shape landed next to Lirrak. Davion assumed it was Aethrak at first, catching only a vague glimpse of white out of the corner of his eye.

Looking more closely, he saw that he was mistaken. Though the latest visitor had scales edged with white, they were mostly an azure blue in colour. The dragon was built like a sky dragon, but Davion noticed the gills on the neck and the webbing between the dragon's feet. It did not have a beak either.

No, it was not a dragon. This was a wyvern, a cross-breed of two different types of dragon. At a guess, this one was half water dragon, half sky dragon. But what was a wyvern doing in the Thunder?

The wyvern glanced around with starry sapphire eyes, head lowered. Davion watched Lirrak pace angrily, looked to the wyvern again, spotted the resemblance, and wondered what was bothering them.

They both glanced in his direction. Davion blanked his mind again. Slyrak growled in warning.

A black shape exploded into being, flashing red evil eyes on its wings as it landed. Vahdrak.

Davion felt uneasy as he looked upon the Eldwurm of Chaos. Chaos dragons had that effect on people, their presence alone was unnerving.

This was obviously a meeting. Davion waited for the Eldwurms of Air and Lightning to appear. He knew that Uldorak was gone, and Slyrak was part of him now.

But Byssrak did not wait. 'They are gone.'

'We know!' Lirrak snapped, her voice a watery gurgle. 'We felt them pass.'

'Pass?' Vahdrak sneered. 'Pass what? Wind? Leave the poetry to your strange, strange daughter.'

'Be silent!' Orrak glared at Vahdrak. It was not unusual for radiant and chaos dragons to fight and kill one another. To Davion, it seemed as though one wrong word from Vahdrak would result in a scuffle.

'Ooh! Touchy today, aren't we?' Vahdrak chuckled. 'So our flighty friend is dead,' Lirrak and the wyvern glared at Vahdrak, 'and our flashy friend is dead. Why worry? We just have to wait for replacements, however boring they may be.'

'Silence.' Byssrak rumbled.

To Davion's surprise, Vahdrak obeyed instantly. Byssrak was supposed to be exceptionally powerful, second only to Vylgranox in the Eldwurm hierarchy before his demise. He must be in charge now.

'Lirrak,' Orrak turned her long snout towards Lirrak and the wyvern, 'Auroth. I am sorry for your loss.'

Davion could not help himself. Auroth? He knew that name! She had been one of the most prolific writers in history, she still was, a reclusive but wise scholar as well as a poet. The archives of Dragon Knight castles and outposts around the world were filled with her texts regarding dragons. He'd read more than a few of them.

All eyes turned his way again and he stopped thinking. Slyrak hissed angrily.

'Is there another here?' Lirrak asked.

'No others were summoned.' Byssrak grumbled.

'But there is a presence here.' Orrak noted. 'Familiar, yet strange.'

'Show yourself.' Byssrak demanded.

'Yes, do!' Vahdrak called gleefully. 'Make this dull, dull, dull little commiseration session a little more interesting. Come now! I need to kill something!'

'You can't actually kill anything here, you know?' the wyvern, Auroth, stated, lifting her head and flaring her nostrils as she sniffed. 'We're just mental projections. You could attack the interloper, but you would just look stupid.'

'No more stupid than your poetry, half-breed.'

'The intruder must be part of the Thunder.' Auroth continued, as if Vahdrak had not spoken. 'A dragon, most likely, one of the lost Eldwurms. Whoever it is, their soul must be mostly whole and able to use the mind of its new host to speak into the Thunder.' She glanced at the spot where Davion "was". He still wasn't sure if he was actually present. 'And if Vylgranox's theory was both correct and incorrect, then it seems logical that our visitor is Slyrak, and whoever is acting as his vessel.'

Orrak hissed. 'Then show yourself, abomination!'

'Patience, Orrak.' Byssrak advised. 'Slyrak. Explain yourself.'

'Do it.' Slyrak commanded.

'Very well,' Davion spoke aloud. 'I'm here.'

They all looked down. He felt insignificant and vulnerable, even though Auroth claimed that they could not harm one another here.

'A human?' Orrak whispered. 'Slyrak chose a human?'

'Not just any human,' Auroth mused. 'A Dragon Knight. Did you kill him, Dragon Knight?'

'No,' Davion answered, still feeling tiny and vulnerable with these dragons facing him. 'That was Terrorblade.'

'The Demon Marauder? The Devourer of Souls?' Lirrak gurgled. 'Was he not imprisoned?'

'He was,' Auroth stated. 'And probably still is. A Demon cannot physically manifest on this plane. They need vessels. But Foulfell was meant to keep Terrorblade contained.'

'Why? Davion asked, feeling stranger still. He was talking to somebody who had been a mystery to many. Auroth's first texts had emerged centuries ago, yet she had continued to produce more books over the years. Many scholars had wondered how new books kept appearing, though they had assumed that Auroth was mortal. How did a wyvern write?

'His own kind could not control him.' Auroth answered, ambling closer and sniffing at Davion. 'Terrorblade gained his power by stealing it from his kin, by consuming their souls. They created Foulfell and lured him into it to stop him. Or so the legends say.' She leaned in close to Davion, one eye filling his vision as she peered into his own. 'Demon legends are not my speciality. They're not very keen on sharing, such is their nature.'

'Erm...' Davion began, perturbed by having a wyvern in his face. He wondered what Slyrak wanted here.

Auroth moved back. 'Slyrak is a part of you now.'

Davion swallowed. This might not have been why Slyrak had brought him here, but he had to ask. 'Can he… can he be separated from me?'

Slyrak grumbled. 'If it was that easy, Little Mouse…' Was that regret in his voice?

'No,' Auroth answered softly. 'One soul will consume the other. It is only a matter of time.'

'I see.' Davion lowered his head, listening as Slyrak explained his ideas. 'Slyrak wants to speak with you, through me.'

'Then speak.' Byssrak rumbled.

'Yes, do,' Vahdrak whined. 'I'm bored now!'

'Then be silent and listen!' Orrak snapped.

Vahdrak mimicked her silently, snapping his jaws. Orrak glared, but said nothing more.

Davion listened to Slyrak as he outlined his plan, his intention to put an end to Terrorblade's machinations. The strange thing was that he and Slyrak actually seemed to be in agreement, despite the risks they would face.

'Your plan has merit, Little Mouse. With Aethrak, Uldorak and Indrak lost to us, and with Vylgranox slain, we will need an army. Your Dragon Knights are a potent force, more than capable of fighting Terrorblade's deathless hordes.' Slyrak explained. 'Tell them of our plan.'

Davion cleared his throat, though it probably wasn't necessary here. Vahdrak looked bored again, and was eyeing Davion as if he was a tasty snack, even running his tongue over his sharp teeth. 'Slyrak wants me to go to Dragon Keep.'

'That's madness!' Orrak protested. 'The Dragon Knights will kill you both!'

'Terrorblade has a Direstone. He's been using it to create an army.'

Auroth lifted her head. 'So it is true! I'd heard rumours of un-dead being sighted. Direstones are forces of destruction and death. The more thralls it can gather, the more powerful it will become.'

'Why hasn't it affected Terrorblade?' Lirrak grumbled.

'He's a Demon.' Auroth stated simply. 'They are of the same… energy, I suppose you could say. Demons spawned from fragments of the Primal Mind which were dedicated to negativity and destruction, not powerful enough to become gods, but able to develop sentience and their own forms of power. That, and Terrorblade is still not technically on this plane, not wholly.'

'I've seen what the Direstone can do.' Davion continued. 'I have friends, but we cannot overcome his army alone. Slyrak wants me to rally the Dragon Knights for battle. He says… he says that if we win, what happens to us doesn't matter. If Terrorblade wins, we all lose anyway.'

'You will need more than Dragon Knights to destroy the Direstone,' Orrak stated. 'No living creature can approach it without falling under its sway, and they are difficult to damage with mortal strength alone. My kin and I are beings of light. We have an affinity with the Radiance.'

'Oh, how I hate the Radiance.' Vahdrak muttered. As a force of Chaos, he and his kind had a stronger affinity with the Dire. Davion wasn't sure if he could trust Vahdrak to help them.

Orrak ignored Vahdrak. 'What does Slyrak wish of us? Surely he will need us to destroy the Direstone.'

'He does want you all to come to Dragon Keep when the time is right.' Davion replied. 'But it will be a risk. Terrorblade wants your souls.'

'Let him try to take them!' Lirrak spat. 'Together, we can defeat him!'

'Defeating him isn't the problem. Stopping him is.' Davion argued. 'Like Auroth said, Terrorblade is a Demon. He cannot die. Even if we destroy whatever vessel he is using, he will return sooner or later. We need to trap him in Foulfell. Permanently.'

'And how do we do that?' It was worrying that Auroth did not know the answer herself.

'I… I don't know.' Davion admitted.

'The lesser radiant dragons will not be able to resist the Direstone if they stray within its influence.' Orrak mused. 'But I can, and I have the power to destroy it.'

'So does Marci.'

'What?'

Davion cursed quietly. He had not meant to say that aloud. Slyrak rumbled within his thoughts. 'Tell them. She may present the best solution.'

Davion sighed. 'One of my friends is… she's wurm-forged. She has a radiant dragon's blood.'

'She murdered one of my kin?' Orrak exclaimed, light flaring around her form. 'She must be punished!'

'No!' Davion waved his hands, trying to calm the angered dragon. 'No, she didn't. She just inherited her gifts. Slyrak believes that she's the last of the wurm-forged.'

'Even if that is true, she would not be able to resist the Direstone's corruption or its siren call.'

'But she has. Twice.'

Orrak stared at him. It was impossible for him to tell what she was thinking, but he was certain that she was shocked. The others also seemed to be flabbergasted.

'Right,' Vahdrak recovered first, sneering at Orrak. 'Who last killed you and when?'

Orrak growled. 'A group of Misrulian and Imperial warriors, over two centuries ago by mortal reckoning. I believed them all to be slain before I was forced to seek out another avatar. It seems that I was mistaken.'

Davion frowned. 'What does that mean?'

Orrak snorted and glared at him. 'It means that your friend is not an ordinary wurm-forged, if there ever was such a thing. She has the blood of an Eldwurm. Mine, it would seem. Obviously her mortal form and soul limit her abilities, yet even so...'

'This is not relevant.' Byssrak stated. 'If she can resist and destroy the stone, that is all that matters. The plan, Dragon Knight. Tell us more.'

Davion struggled to pick up on Slyrak's thoughts. It had been a shock to learn that Marci was wurm-forged in the first place, but to learn that she had the blood of an Eldwurm too… no wonder she had such power. Kaden had never stood a chance, and it explained how Marci had been able to beat down Slyrak's half-dragon form with just a fraction of her power unleashed.

Davion tried to look Orrak in the eye, ignoring Byssrak's demand. 'Orrak, my friend wouldn't harm one of your kind without need. She's a good person, she always means well. I've never known anybody with such loyalty or compassion. I would ask you not to harm her. It was not her choice to be born as she was.'

Orrak rumbled quietly, still facing him even as she sinuously twisted in mid-air. She said nothing, but he had the impression that she was willing to leave Marci alone. If she wasn't, he knew who he would side with, even though Orrak would probably disintegrate him.

'Aww! Love!' Vahdrak turned away and imitated retching. 'I'm going to be sick.'

'The plan.' Byssrak prompted a little more forcefully.

'Right.' Davion nodded. 'Terrorblade is hunting me. Slyrak and I will draw him to Dragon Keep. Once we're ready, we'll summon you and… try to beat him, I suppose.'

'And then?'

'I don't know.' Davion glanced at Auroth. 'Do you know anything which could help us?'

Auroth considered. 'I don't. I barely studied Demons and their ilk. But there is somebody I know who has.' She exposed her fangs briefly, grimacing with distaste. 'I don't particularly want to see Demnok again, but he is the foremost expert in Demonology—in the mortal world, at least. I'll ask Rylai if she can find him.'

'And what of Slyrak?' Lirrak asked. 'Will you take the human as a vessel? Until you die, there will be no true Eldwurm of Fire again.'

Davion was confused, and Slyrak's response did not help. 'He knows. That's all he will say.'

'Very well.' Byssrak did not elaborate, as usual. 'We part now. Prepare yourselves. We go to war.'


Davion sat up, confused, his eyes still swimming with unnamable colours and his head thumping painfully. He could feel liquid on his skin, and he could smell blood.

Something soft and warm touched his shoulder, a hand with lightly calloused fingertips. Marci's hand.

Davion's vision started to clear. He could see that the scales had sliced through his skin in places, leaving a few malformed ones behind again. The others were all watching him warily. Marci just appeared to be relieved.

'What happened?' Purist asked without preamble.

Davion swallowed, now aware of how dry his throat was. Marci plucked a flask from her belt, uncapped it and tilted it towards his mouth. He drank and smiled in gratitude when he was done. 'I spoke to the surviving Eldwurms.'

'Some of them are dead?' Eserren frowned. 'Besides Uldorak and Vylgranox?'

Davion nodded. 'Aethrak and Indrak are gone.'

'The Eldwurms of Air and Lightning.' Caewyn explained, noticing confused looks amongst Mirana, Marci, Fymryn and Aiushtha. 'But how? Neither of them would have gone down without a fight.'

'They didn't say.' Davion said, rubbing the back of his neck.

'Maybe the Dragon Knights killed them.' Fymryn suggested.

'No. Their souls would have migrated to new avatars. Terrorblade must be responsible.' It didn't answer Caewyn's question, but for that, Davion had no answer. Terrorblade did have an army of undying thralls at his command, but he wasn't sure how they would take down an Eldwurm. Maybe with sheer numbers, it was possible, but he still had doubts. The Direstone perhaps?

'What else?' Purist asked.

'I told them of the plan to head to Dragon Keep. Slyrak approves. And so do they. They're going to join us there.'

'But the Dragon Knights will never agree to that!' Mirana protested.

'We have to make them agree to it.' Davion stated firmly. 'There's nothing else we can try, not with the little time we have and Terrorblade on the loose, especially if he's managed to kill more Eldwurms. The Dragon Knights have the means to fight Terrorblade's army. With the Eldwurms on our side, we have a good chance. And Marci might be able to break the Direstone if Orrak can't.'

'The Eldwurm of Light.' Caewyn whispered to Mirana. 'I wonder if she knows about Marci.'

Davion shifted guiltily.

'Davion?' Mirana probed warily. 'Tell us.'

'I… may have mentioned you, Marci. It was a slip of the tongue, I'm sorry.'

Marci shrugged and patted his shoulder.

'Orrak is said to be forgiving,' Eserren noted. 'And it's not like Marci has actually killed a radiant dragon and stolen it's power.'

'That's what I said.' Davion held back on telling them what Orrak had told him, for now. He chuckled. 'You're not going to believe this, Eserren, but I actually met Auroth. It turns out that she's a wyvern—she's the daughter of Aethrak and Lirrak.'

'What?' Eserren gasped.

'Amazing!' Caewyn gushed. 'Did you tell her that I love her poetry?'

'I didn't know that.' Davion admitted. 'Maybe next time.'

'Auroth is a dragon?' Mirana stared at him. 'I'm not sure how many more revelations I can take. Can we at least spread them out over a few years instead of a few months?'

Marci whistled and made a few signs.

'I know,' Mirana nodded. 'We even read a few. Kashurra really admired her work. He said that she was the most accurate historian he knew of. I guess we know why now.'

Aiushtha cocked her head. 'I wouldn't know. I can't read. I don't suppose these dragons and wyverns told you how to stop Terrorblade?'

'Auroth said she'd look into it. She says she knows somebody who might be of help.'

Marci nudged him and raised her eyebrows, miming a dragon and pointing at his chest.

'Oh.' Davion sighed. 'I'm sorry, Marci. There's nothing they can do.'

Marci's face fell. Her eyes started to moisten and she turned her head away. Davion slid his arm around her shoulders.

Mirana moved closer and held Marci's hand. 'I'm so sorry, Davion.'

'It's all right, Mirana.' Davion said. 'Hey. I'm not giving up, Songbird. You wouldn't let me anyway, not after all the times you've saved my life.'

Marci managed a small smile. She leaned towards him and pecked him on the cheek.

'I'm not going anywhere, Marci, not if I can help it. I wouldn't want to let you down.'

Mirana knew what he meant. He wasn't feeling sorry for himself. It was Marci who would be most hurt by his passing, and she had suffered enough as it was.

Eserren spared Davion a sympathetic nod. Sensing that he wanted to be left alone with Marci and Mirana, she drew the others away to discuss their route. The most direct path was via the swamps. Not the safest or easiest way, but they had few options.

'I have another surprise,' Davion spoke quietly. 'Not such a bad one, perhaps. It's about you, Marci.'

Marci glanced at Mirana, then nodded. 'If you're sure, Marci.' Mirana acknowledged. 'Though I'm not sure I can take any more surprises.'

Davion chuckled. 'Better prepare yourself then, Mirana. It turns out that Marci has an Eldwurm's blood—Orrak's blood.'

Mirana stared at her handmaiden, who was gaping at Davion. 'No wonder Selemene kept asking me about you! Seriously though, no more shocks if you can help it. Both of you!'

'No promises, Mirana.' Davion smirked. 'We're not done yet.' He turned to Marci, who was still trying to process what he had just told her, though she was obviously taking it better than that first revelation about the origin of her abilities.

He smiled at her. 'I did say that you were full of surprises, Marci.'

Marci huffed. She leaned forwards and rested her forehead against his. She still wasn't going to give up on him, and he knew better than to argue with her.

'We'll find a way, Davion.' Mirana promised. 'Somehow, we'll find a way.'

Davion still couldn't see how it would be possible to preserve his soul, and now he was even feeling some sympathy for Slyrak. He knew that even if they somehow separated their souls, Slyrak's would be damaged, maybe even destroyed. In a way, in many ways, he had helped them. This was his fight as well.

Slyrak had gone quiet again, but Davion had the distinct impression that he now felt the same kind of pity too.


Right… that got a little heavier than I intended. The trouble is that once I really get into a character's head, especially if it's someone I sympathise with, like Marci or Mirana, it's hard for me to get out of their heads, and it all gets a bit deep. That, and I think we can all agree that due to their tragic pasts, Marci and Mirana both have a lot of pain to overcome as well as their ongoing struggles.

Now then, I expect that I'm going to be asked questions about "The Covenant" (cue the Halo theme). It's not a thing in DOTA, but I needed some sort of explanation as to why the various deities—and as with DOTA, there are many of them here—so rarely, if ever, get directly involved in events. This led to my idea of the Covenant, which may as well be a fancy term for a form of mutually assured destruction. As a force which can usually see everything, the Omniscience essentially tries to keep the deities honest. Obviously, Mene can deceive and blind it, but if any of the other deities try to make a move against Her or Terrorblade, their opponents will jump at the opportunity to attack them, their enemies will do the same, and you pretty much get the apocalypse. Of course, they are allowed to defend themselves, as Selemene does when challenged directly. Otherwise, it's a lose-lose situation. Of course, if either Mene or Terrorblade win, they may ask the survivors, mortal or otherwise, to serve them, so some deities may believe it's in their best interests not to interfere anyway.

It's not a perfect system by any means. In fact, it's meant to be imperfect, otherwise how would Mene and Terrorblade take advantage?

As for how the deities came to be, in my mind they're all pieces of the Primal Mind when it split into fragments, each developing into a new, full being over millennia. This would have been after the world was created, along with the Eldwurms who form the Pillars of Creation. Mene became the Goddess of the Moon and Night, the Omniscience grew in the heart of the world and eventually became the All-Seeing and so on and so forth.

Anyway, apologies for all the waffling. Stay tuned for further updates, and please leave a review if you can, it would be much appreciated. The work and the adventure continue!

Once again, thank you, Annbe11, for helping me to get all of this sorted. And yes, Unazaki, it seems that you were right about a certain somebody. Well guessed!