Chapter Twenty-Five

No Rest for the Penitent

'That's it. Breathe. Be calm.'

Marci inhaled slowly, held the breath for a moment, then exhaled. Her eyes remained closed as she sat cross-legged upon the ground.

'Good.' Purist nodded. 'Now, think of the people you care about.'

Marci kept her eyes closed. Davion watched her as he worked. They would be leaving soon, and Purist had insisted on trying to help Marci to rouse her power at will. It was crucial, he said, and Davion saw his point. Out of all of them, she alone could withstand and perhaps destroy the Direstone. With Terrorblade in command of Vylgranox's power, they could not count on an Eldwurm to do it.

'Whenever you unleashed your power, it was to protect others. Remember what you felt in those moments, what you wanted, what mattered most, what you were prepared to give.'

Marci inhaled deeply and exhaled. Her eyelids fluttered. Davion thought that he saw a faint nimbus begin to form around her.

Mirana and Luna were also watching. Mirana's eyes were still a little red. She and Luna had not spoken about what had happened last night, and nobody had pressed them for details.

'She really has a dragon's blood?' Luna whispered.

'I didn't know either.' Mirana replied. 'None of us did. Not even Marci. We wouldn't have known at all if Slyrak hadn't told us.'

Luna shook her head. 'I always knew she was strange.' Mirana shot her a look. 'Not because she can't speak.'

'Don't fight it, Marci.' Purist advised. 'Let it run through you. It is in your blood. It is a gift. You can control it. Use it to protect the ones you love.'

Marci lifted her head and opened her eyes. There were little points of golden light in her eyes, but she had not fully unleashed her power.

Purist sighed. 'Marci, you need to be able to unleash it at will.'

Marci scowled at him. This was her sixth attempt. So far, she had only been able to unleash in the heat of battle or when driven to an extreme of stress.

'I know that this must be frustrating. Perhaps if you opened yourself to the Omniscience, this might be easier. Though I lack the gift in your blood, I too serve the Light, as do all Omniknights.' Purist told her. Marci only seemed to be half-listening. 'Prayer and contemplation would make this easier.'

Marci shook her head.

'I realise that these are things which may seem unusual to you. But you need a way to focus. You should surely be capable of that.'

Marci rolled her eyes. Davion tried not to chuckle.

'Your attitude is not helping, Marci.' Purist stated, a slight bite in his tone now. 'This is serious.'

Marci signed forcefully at him. Mirana opened her mouth, but Davion beat her to it. 'She knows. You're preaching.'

'I am trying to help her.'

Marci signed again, looking mutinous. Mirana prepared to translate, but once again Davion spoke first. 'Your approach doesn't suit her, Purist.' Davion finished folding the small tent into one of Sagan's saddlebags. 'Come on, we're ready now. Give her a break.'

Mirana's brow was slightly furrowed. Davion was becoming very fluent when it came to Marci's signs and whistles.

Purist stood and picked up his hammer. 'Davion, we have little time.'

'Now your telling me things I already know.' Davion remarked. 'Marci, can you give me a hand with this?'

He did not need her help with the bags, but Marci seized the excuse, giving him a grateful smile when Purist wasn't looking. 'How about some sparring when we next stop?'

Marci nodded eagerly. He still had a lot to learn when it came to unarmed combat. Marci kept control, but was also a little overeager, which partially explained why Mirana had struggled to learn from her. Davion did not mind being floored by her though, she never actually hurt him, and she was fun to practise with.

Aiushtha reached over and took a couple of Sagan's saddlebags, securing them across her back.

'I thought you said you weren't going to be a pack-doe.' Caewyn recalled.

'It just seems a little unfair to ask poor Sagan to carry all of this stuff when I'm carrying nothing. You're such a good lunar tiger, aren't you?' She ruffled his fur. Sagan purred contentedly. 'Yes you are, and you're so sweet.'

'Nova can take some supplies as well.' Luna announced. 'Come on, Nova, it's just a bag. There, see? Not so bad, is it? She's not really used to carrying anything but me.'

Sagan let Marci and Davion finish securing the supplies without protest, as if showing Nova how it was done. Marci had trained him well, keeping in mind that Shabarra might send assassins after her and Mirana, forcing them to run again. Nova had been trained purely for combat.

Marci took Sagan's reins and led him after Davion. He was taking the lead now. This was territory he knew well, and reaching Dragon Keep would not be hard.

But they would be exposed, crossing the Barren Plains and then the Graveyard.

'What about Knight's Hearth?' Caewyn inquired. 'We could stop there for a bit.'

'That's a three day detour.' Davion said. 'I think we should just head straight to Dragon Keep.'

'I agree.' Eserren concurred. 'We still might have bounties on our heads.'

'Wait a moment,' Aiushtha stared at Eserren, 'you're wanted?'

'Didn't we mention that?' Caewyn asked innocently. 'Oh! Well… we may be in trouble with the Dragon Knights.'

'But...' Aiushtha took in a calming breath. 'You, Eserren and Davion are part of the Order, aren't you?'

'They… didn't really approve of me being Slyrak's host, or turning into a dragon-hybrid.' Davion muttered.

'They also seem to have some issues with Marci.' Fymryn added. 'She killed one of their best Dragon Knights, and she's wurm-forged.'

'And Caewyn and I disobeyed orders to kill Davion.' Eserren explained. 'Though we seem to be unintentionally fulfilling them now.'

'We don't have a choice.' Davion said it as they stepped out of the shelter of the trees and onto the edge of the Barren Plains. They were aptly named. Centuries of rampages by fire and earth dragons, long before the Dragon Knights had arrived, had left this place devoid of all but the hardiest of vegetation. Apart from small clumps of tough, pale grasses and thorn-laden brambles, most of the plants here were carnivorous.

When the Dragon Knights had first established themselves, this place had been overwhelmed by dragons. It had taken many decades and more sacrifices, but they had eventually wiped out or driven off the local dragons. This place was actually quite safe, for most. Stumbling upon a Dragon Knight patrol might cost them.

Nova and Sagan grumbled as they padded across the dry, dull soil. Lunar cats typically preferred forests, or any place with enough cover for a stealthy approach. Wide open spaces made them uneasy, even if they were trained for battle.

Marci stroked Sagan's head, calming him. She whistled and pointed at the sky, then at the plains themselves.

'I know.' Mirana nodded. 'We'll have to be careful.'

With the level ground and lack of trees, they would be easy to spot when they made camp.

Davion was growing increasingly nervous as they walked. Every step took them closer to Dragon Keep, and he had no idea what would happen.

At best, they might be able to talk the Fathers into aiding them for what might be the last battle of all time. If they lost, everything ended. Or worse.

At worst, he would be chopped up, possibly subjected to vivisection. Worse still, they might kill his friends, maybe even treat Marci like him. If it came to that, Davion was determined to go down fighting. They would have to kill them first.


'Luna,' Mirana had fallen back a bit, noticing that Luna was lagging. 'Are you hurt? You were limping earlier.'

'It's nothing.' Luna grated.

'It doesn't sound like "nothing" to me.'

'I'm fine.'

'Luna, you don't have to pretend to be tough. I know you are. But we'll be fighting soon. With our luck, we'll probably get ambushed by a dragon on the way. Please tell me what's wrong, Luna.'

Luna sighed and grimaced, her eyes darting towards Fymryn. 'It's my foot. She took a chunk out of it. It's not been too bad, until now.'

'Is it inflamed?'

'It hurts if that's what you're asking.'

'When did you last look at it?'

'A couple of days ago.'

'You sleep with your boots on?'

'Don't you?'

Mirana shook her head.

'It's a habit. The old days.'

Mirana nodded, feeling a little uneasy. She knew about Luna's past as the Scourge of the Plains. There had been one night, during the customary celebration of the full moon, when Luna had ended up having a drinking competition with several of her soldiers, and Mirana herself.

Mirana had drunkenly told Luna that she had been the heir to the Solar Throne. Luna had then ranted about her days as the Scourge, and terrified Mirana. Marci, less drunk than both of them, had taken Mirana back to their quarters. Mirana hadn't remembered much of what had happened after that, but she had remembered what Luna had said. She had gone to Selemene that evening, and Selemene had confirmed everything.

But those like Luna who joined the Dark Moon Order were absolved of their sins, at least in the eyes of Selemene.

Mirana knew that Luna wanted to redeem herself, that she regretted what she had done, even if she didn't like to talk about her past. She only really opened up when she drank.

'We should look at it.'

'It's not pretty.'

'I've seen plenty of blood before, Luna. Marci can be a bit… messy.'

Luna scoffed. 'She doesn't really fight unarmed, does she?'

Mirana frowned. Luna had never seen Marci in an actual fight. Luna had taught her own form of hand-to-hand combat, something Marci had been very excited about during her early days at the Temple.

Luna's style was self-taught, but she had been proud of it. She had been sure of herself right up until Marci had sparred with her, and pinned her in less than seven seconds. Luna hadn't appreciated being humiliated, and hadn't sparred with Marci again.

'She does.' Mirana answered.

Luna raised her eyebrows, now gazing at Marci, who was once again teaching Davion new signs and whistles. They also seemed to be flirting again.

'I never realised she was that good, or that strong.' She cocked her head. 'She seems to get on well with Davion.'

Mirana nodded. 'Yes, she does.'

'Mm.' Luna smirked and whispered, 'Is he charging her gatehouse?'

'Pardon?'

'You know. Breaching her portcullis? Moving through the night? Spearing?' Luna rolled her eyes. 'Oh, come on! You know what I mean! Are they intimate?'

Mirana flushed. 'No!'

'No?'

Mirana looked away. 'Not like that. Not yet.'

Luna's face softened. 'Sorry.'

'It's fine, Luna. You heard. You know.'

Luna decided to change the subject. 'I… uh… I'll let you look at my foot when we stop. We ought to change the dressings, if you think you can take it.'

Mirana scoffed. 'If I faint, you can laugh.'

'Deal.'

'What do I get if I don't faint?'

Luna considered. 'I won't laugh at you.'

'I suppose that will have to do.'


They stopped at a crumbling barracks, long ago abandoned by the militia of Knight's Hearth. It would provide some shelter, and the water in the well was still potable. Out here, they would need plenty of it.

Purist would have resumed his attempts to make Marci unleash, but Davion quickly led her away to spar.

Mirana didn't mind much. It kept Marci happy. She herself had been spending time learning how to handle blades better, from Eserren and, of all people, Caewyn. Eserren saw it as a good way to train both her and Caewyn at the same time.

Luna hissed as Mirana unwound the soiled bandage. Mirana wrinkled her nose as it came free. 'Ugh!'

'I'll laugh if you faint.'

'Luna, it's infected!'

'Damn.'

'You shouldn't have been walking on this!'

'Now you tell me.'

'You haven't given it time to heal!'

'I didn't have time to spare.'

'Aiushtha!'

'What's she going to do? Chop it off?'

'Calm down.' Mirana told her. 'Aiushtha's a healer. She might have a better idea.'

'Sproink!' Aiushtha exclaimed cheerfully as she leapt over a fallen pillar. 'You called?' She looked down at Luna's maimed foot. 'Oh. I see.' She knelt awkwardly and peered at the wound. 'You caught it in time. I can deal with this.' Aiushtha pulled a flask from her bag. 'But it will hurt.'

'I can take it.' Luna stated stoically.

'I'm not joking.' Aiushtha started to tip the flask towards the wound. 'Mirana, hold her, please.'

'I said I can take it.' Luna muttered.

Aiushtha poured the glutinous liquid over her foot.

'AARGH! FUCK! THAT HURTS!'

'Quiet!' Purist hissed.

'What was that? Who's hurt? Are we under attack?' Caewyn babbled, peeping over the wall, pointing her crossbow in a new direction as fast as she could. Eserren had picked up her bardiche and was peering into the distance, watching for threats Luna's screams might attract.

'M'lor! Who's being murdered?' Fymryn demanded groggily, woken from her doze.

Marci whistled sharply as she and Davion ran back around the corner. Davion was holding his sword.

'It's all right,' Mirana told them. 'Just… do whatever it was you were doing.'

'Ahh! Shit! Shit! Shit!' Luna hissed, her eyes watering. 'What was that stuff? Oww!'

'Sorry, Luna,' Aiushtha examined her handiwork. 'That'll burn away the infection.'

'And my whole bloody foot!' Luna screeched.

Mirana sighed and plucked a flask from the pile of saddlebags. 'Here. Drink. You should be good at that.'

Luna scowled, snatched the flask, and jammed the neck between her teeth, chugging the alcohol down.

Aiushtha pointed her staff at Luna's injured foot. 'This won't hurt as much.'

'It had better not! Or I'll pour that stuff down your throat!'

Aiushtha glared at Luna. 'I'm sorry, did you want to lose your foot?'

Luna's glower faded. 'No. Do what you have to.'

Aiushtha snorted indignantly and cast her spell, greenish wisps flying from her staff and settling on Luna's maimed foot. The skin began to close, no longer an angry red, now the pink colour of a freshly healed scar. 'There. Done.' Without another word, she stood and walked off, grumbling as she went.

Luna leaned back against Mirana, her teeth gritted. 'I need another drink.'

'You've had enough.'

'Just get me a damn drink.'

'No.' Mirana stated firmly. 'We need you sober.'

'Kochi! Why don't you go and spoil your pet's fun while you're at it? I bet she and Davion are rolling around naked right now.'

Mirana flushed angrily. 'Shut up, Luna!'

Purist looked up from his tome. Mirana's blush deepened. She had not meant to snap that loudly.

Purist shut the book, placed it beside his hammer, and approached them. He knelt down carefully, mindful of his armour. 'When did you last sleep, Luna?'

Luna scowled. 'A day and a half ago.'

'You should rest, Luna.'

'I don't need mollycoddling.'

'No, you don't. But you don't need to punish yourself either, or anybody else here.'

Luna glowered at him. He merely stared back until she relented. 'Caring isn't a weakness, Luna. You should sleep. I'll take your watch tonight.'

'I can do it.'

'Stars' light, Luna!' Mirana exclaimed. 'I thought Marci was stubborn. Luna, please, just rest and stop making things hard for yourself. If you don't, I'll get Marci to knock you out, then you'll get some sleep, and a sore head.'

Luna scoffed. 'And all without any alcohol involved. Fine. You win.' Luna, still wearing her armour, bundled her cloak under her head and settled down on her back, one hand next to her kriegsmesser, and closed her eyes.

Mirana stared at her. She knew that Luna had always slept with her window open, but this seemed very strange to her. Even Eserren rarely slept in her armour. 'Luna?'

'Hmm?'

'Are you really going to sleep like that?'

'What does it look like I'm doing?'

Mirana shook her head. She assumed that this was another of Luna's habits from "the old days", when she had been the Scourge.

As odd as it sounded, it was difficult for her to reconcile the two. The tales she had heard about the Scourge were the stuff of nightmares, the deeds of a monster. Not so much a woman as a savage beast which killed people with murderous abandon, something so terrible her father had sent entire Legions after her, and placed a massive bounty upon her head, forcing her to flee the Imperium.

Luna was a killer, and Mirana now knew that she had been killing men, women and children loyal to Mene. But it was still hard to see her as the Scourge, or as a monster. Her wish to redeem herself did not excuse her actions, but Mirana sympathised anyway. Selemene had kept the truth from her too.

Luna was breathing steadily, eyes shut. Somehow asleep, Mirana guessed.

'Sleep well, Luna.' Mirana whispered.

'Don't count on it.'

Mirana started. Not asleep yet then. She'd have to mind what she said during the night.


Davion was pleased that his new armour could withstand his transformations. But he still needed help to remove it. He suspected that Marci was slightly disappointed that he hadn't ended up naked again, but she was also happy to help him to remove the armour. She worked her way through the buckles and knots with dextrous fingers, whistling as she worked.

'I could be wrong, but you seem to be enjoying yourself.'

Marci grinned flirtatiously at him as she helped him out of his cuirass.

Purist wouldn't approve, but Davion was not doing this just for fun, as much as he enjoyed Marci's company. He knew Marci better than Purist did, and he knew that she was at her most focused when fighting.

Slyrak also approved, which was weird. Agreeable, but weird. It made sense though, he had just as much reason to help Marci now as Davion did.

Marci did not need to, but she also helped him out of his gambeson. She was enjoying herself. She then took the time to stretch and limber up, partially for his enjoyment, he suspected.

They started slowly at first, as usual. Basic moves, steadily progressing to more complex techniques. Davion could punch better than before thanks to Marci, but the kicks were still difficult. Marci was much faster and more flexible than he was.

They were out of sight of the others, and earshot. But he wouldn't have been embarrassed. Everybody knew that Marci was much, much better at hand-to-hand combat than he was.

Slyrak was simmering beneath his thoughts, keeping his musings hidden. Davion ignored him. He needed to stay focused too. Marci was trying to teach him pins and trips.

She let Davion sweep her foot. He was careful not to drop her, and she both appreciated his concern and enjoyed the contact. As she had instructed, he pinned her, gently, with the right technique.

Marci grinned up at him and nodded. It occurred to him how much she trusted him, though she could have easily thrown him off.

Davion adjusted his position, freeing her limbs. Marci made no attempt to move away, she was still smiling up at him. That smile… she had such a lovely smile.

When he had first met her, he'd thought of her as cute. With all of the time he had spent in her company, getting to know her, growing closer to her, that had started to change. Now, he saw her as beautiful.

He helped her up, thinking that now was not a good time to get carried away. Marci took him by surprise and tripped him next, pinning him down. She grinned again, leaning over him. Davion chuckled, now feeling reluctant to move himself.

Marci's grin changed. She did not stop smiling, but there was something different there. She seemed to be… conflicted. She was also starting to blush.

'Marci? What's wrong?'

Marci hesitated.

Davion waited. He didn't say anything, he just smiled at her.

Marci leaned towards his face, her lips parting, her eyes closing. She pressed her lips against his, soft and warm, more tender and sweeter than any he had known before, and he returned her kiss.

She moved in closer, pressing her body against his, her kisses becoming more intense, more urgent, more passionate. He felt her hands run down his sides, her fingers finding the hem of his tunic, pulling it up. He did not resist as she started to lift it, her warm hands brushing his scarred torso, pulling it over his head. She only leaned back for a moment, long enough to remove her own tunic, before pressing against him again, kissing him intensely, her hands wandering down his chest, gradually moving lower.

It was pretty obvious what she wanted, and Davion was not about to stop her. He wanted this too.

A boot crunched against the dry ground, startling them both. Marci practically fell off him, snatching up her tunic to cover herself. Her face started to turn a deep scarlet as Mirana stared at them.

Mirana, also flushing, looked from one to the other, uncertain. She wanted to walk away, she was embarrassed about stumbling upon them, but she also felt guilty, for a small part of her had been glad to interrupt.

Mirana held up her hands. 'Sorry. I… I…' she broke off and just mumbled, 'sorry.'

Davion sat up. 'We were just… Marci was... erm… showing me some advanced techniques. For fighting.'

Mirana raised her eyebrows, trying not to look at Marci as she slipped her tunic back over her head. It wasn't anything she had not seen before, not after she had tended to her injuries, helped her to wash, but she still felt awkward about it given how she felt about Marci.

'And Marci was just making sure that I wasn't hurt.' Davion added lamely.

'And that involved both of you being half-naked?'

'Well...' He glanced at Marci, who just blushed more than Mirana had thought possible and lowered her head, hugging her knees to her chest and resting her forehead on her arms, hiding her face.

Mirana sighed. 'I'm sorry. But… maybe this isn't the best time? Anyway, I need to speak to you, Davion. Preferably with your tunic on. Marci, stay here, please.'

'All right.' Davion sounded wary. He picked up his tunic and pulled it on, sparing Marci a wink when he thought Mirana wasn't looking.

Marci's mouth twitched into a shy smile.

Davion followed Mirana out past the wall, out of earshot of everybody else. He had a feeling he knew what this might be about. 'Mirana—'

Mirana held up a hand. 'Have you actually thought this through, Davion?'

'What?'

'You're dying, Davion. You've told us that more than once, and I appreciate your honesty. But haven't you thought about how much you'll hurt Marci if you…'

'If I what?'

Mirana waved her hand impatiently, flushing scarlet again. 'You know what I mean!'

Davion sighed and folded his arms. 'Mirana, you know that the last thing I want to do is hurt Marci.'

'Davion, you're missing the point. Doing… having...' she struggled. Davion almost found it amusing. Almost. Eventually, Mirana became annoyed with herself as well as him. 'Making love to her might make you happy, but how will she feel when you're gone?'

'It wasn't just about me!'

'Davion—'

'Mirana,' Davion shook his head. 'It wasn't like that. She… well... it just wasn't like that.'

'She started it.' Mirana murmured, sounding… sad? 'I should have guessed.' She shook her head.

Davion stepped forwards, making sure they were alone and lowering his voice. 'Mirana,' he paused, wondering how to say it. 'She's more than just a friend to you. You have feelings for her.'

Mirana looked away.

'I'm not completely stupid, Mirana.'

Mirana blinked furiously. Davion thought he saw tears in her eyes.

'Mirana,' he put a hand on her shoulder. 'I meant it. I do care about Marci, but if you want me to stop—'

'No.' Mirana shook her head again and wiped her eyes. 'No, Davion. I'm being a fool. I'm sorry.'

'You're not a fool, Mirana. You're a bit prickly perhaps, sometimes a little bossy, but you're not a fool. And I know that you care about Marci too.'

Mirana smiled sadly.

'Why not tell her how you feel?'

The smile fell. 'I can't.'

'Because you're returning to the Imperium to rule?'

'No… well, yes, but that's not the only reason. Davion, you know what she's like, how she always puts others before herself. If I told her that I loved her in that way...' she sighed heavily. 'She'd put me first, Davion. She always does. She'd try to make it work, but it wouldn't be for her sake. It would be for mine. She wouldn't be happy, not… not like she is with you.'

Davion gave her shoulder a sympathetic squeeze. Those last words seemed to cost Mirana something. It had to be painful, seeing her best friend and the one she loved falling for somebody else, knowing that she could never be with them in the way she wanted to be. 'I'm sorry, Mirana.'

Mirana sniffled. 'That's kind of you, Davion, but don't be.' She mustered a smile, a more sincere, accepting one. 'She cares about you too. I just...'

'I know. You don't want to see her hurt. Neither do I. There's been too much pain in her life as it is. Yours too.'

Mirana reached up and rested her hand on his. 'I'm sorry I interrupted you.'

Davion half-smiled. 'Maybe it was for the best. This place isn't very romantic, or comfortable.'

Mirana managed a chuckle before she turned serious again. 'If it wasn't for… if Slyrak wasn't a problem… what am I saying? The world could end soon. You both deserve to be happy, if only for a short time.' She squeezed his hand and met his eyes. 'Go to her.'

'Mirana...'

'I am a fool, Davion. It was only a matter of time, and it's not my place to interfere. Go on. At least let her know that I'm not angry.'

Davion nodded slowly. The moment was probably lost, and he didn't want to upset Mirana further. He wasn't completely tactless. 'I reckon some more sparring might be a better idea.'

'Let me know who wins.'

'Mirana, you should know by now! She always wins.'

Mirana smiled more widely. She turned away and left, leaving him alone. Davion watched her go, feeling conflicted. He'd been somewhat aware that Mirana held more than friendship for Marci, but she had never appeared so vulnerable before, nor so open.

He started to make his way back to Marci, too pitying of Mirana's plight to take note of Slyrak's hidden plotting.

It was on the next step when he felt his blood begin to boil. The song surged in his head, and then he was on his knees, desperately fighting back as the scales began to slice through his skin.


'Mind if I join you?'

Fymryn looked up, scowling at the sound of Luna's distinctive accent. 'I can't stop you, can I?'

Luna sat down next to her. They were atop one of the few intact inner walls of the outpost, high above the others. Fymryn had found the steps and climbed up for solitude. Ever since the Battle of the Nightsilver Woods, she had felt more adrift from the others—her former friends.

She had betrayed their trust, and she knew that whatever the Invoker planned next, it would likely cost them dearly. She wanted to distance herself from them, if only to spare herself more pain.

Her hand wandered to her neck, where the dragon fang Davion had given her hung on a simple cord. She thought about tearing it free and throwing it away, but she couldn't.

Luna sneaked a flask from under her belt and took a long swig. She held it out for Fymryn, who shook her head.

'It is a bit strong.' Luna spoke in elvish. The accent was still there, but her elvish was fluent.

'Do all of the Usurper's followers learn elvish?' Fymryn asked.

'Most do.'

'Does it help you to kill us?'

'They say that Selemene was an elf once too. Maybe she's nostalgic.'

'I doubt that.'

Luna shrugged. 'There are elves in the Order.'

'Traitors.'

'You're one to talk.'

'I never betrayed our true goddess.'

'No, you never betrayed Mene. But you did betray Mirana. And Marci. And Davion. And Eserren. And Caewyn.'

'They told you?'

'Mirana's not happy about it.'

Fymryn rested her chin on her knees. 'Neither am I.'

Luna held out the flask again. 'Drink.'

Fymryn sighed and took the flask. She wasn't that accustomed to alcohol, so she only took a short sip. She grimaced as the liquid burned her throat, then returned the flask.

Luna made no comment. For a few moments, they were both silent. Part of Fymryn, a piece of her which still felt alien to her, wanted to stick a dagger in Luna's throat and throw her off the wall. Yet despite what Luna had done, Fymryn felt repulsed by the idea.

'I was raised by outcasts.' Luna murmured at last. 'Elves who no longer followed Mene, but were not loyal to Selemene either.'

Fymryn wanted to point out the obvious, but did not dare to. In the short time she had known Luna, she had quickly figured out that the woman could be mercurial. She doubted that she would think twice about throwing Fymryn off the wall if she insulted her.

'I didn't know my parents.' Luna continued, picking up a loose stone and turning it about with her calloused fingers. 'Didn't care to after a while. They were dead. What was the point of talking about it?' she threw the stone into the darkness, aiming for nothing in particular. 'They left an impression though.' She vaguely indicated her white hair and violet eyes, as well as her rounded ears.

'You're half-elven?'

'So they say.'

'I didn't think that was possible.'

Luna released a short bark of laughter, barely any humour in the sound. 'I've heard about the things you've done and seen with this lot, yet you reckon that elves and humans don't fuck on occasion?'

Fymryn felt a little heat in her face. Most of the flirting she'd done with Mirana, Davion, Marci and Caewyn before her betrayal had mostly been to break tension, to provoke a smile or two, a result of her sense of humour, but she wouldn't have minded if one of them, human or not, or all of them, had become intimate with her.

'That's not what I meant.'

'Same parts, different ears.'

'Most people generally hate elves.'

'Generally. Yet there's an elf down there who was raised by a human, and has spent most of her life working and living with non-elves.' Luna shrugged. 'I don't know how I came to be. Maybe my parents loved each other. Maybe my mother was raped. Nobody told me. Nobody knew. I stopped caring after a while. What difference would it make? I exist.' She threw another stone, harder this time. 'Better if I didn't.'

Fymryn stared at her. There was so much venom and self-loathing in that statement that she actually felt a mote of sympathy for Luna—the woman who had murdered her pod and led the massacre of Coedwig.

'Did you want to kill my people?'

'At the time, yes.'

'Why?'

Luna shrugged. 'Because they were heretics. Because I was annoyed. Because I was bored. Because I'm good at killing. Because I enjoy killing.' Luna took another swig from her flask, longer this time. 'Because I'm a murderer. Because I'm a monster.'

'I've killed people too.'

'But you didn't enjoy it.'

'No. But… there was this one time, after we killed Vylgranox...'

'Adrenaline rush.'

'It was more than that.' Fymryn admitted. 'And at the Temple, when we fought, I… I wanted to kill you.'

Luna handed over the flask again. Fymryn drank a little more, resisting the urge to cough. They lapsed into silence again before Luna asked: 'Why didn't you?'

Now it was Fymryn's turn to shrug. 'It didn't seem right to. Not when Selemene was draining your life like that. I guess… I just didn't want you to suffer.'

'Of all people, I thought you'd say that I deserved to die.'

'I might.' Fymryn nodded. 'But killing you wouldn't bring my pod or my people back.'

'Mene will kill me. And many others.'

'I hope not.'

'You helped her.'

'If I can, I'll ask Her to be merciful.'

Luna chuckled darkly. 'Fymryn, you have to be one of the most naive people I've ever met. Even sweet little Caewyn knows better. Mene has no room left in her heart for mercy. Just like Selemene.'

'I don't believe that.'

'She's got to be pissed off after being stuck in the moon for a thousand years.' Luna waved her flask at the bleeding moon, the crimson about it spreading further day and night.

'Do you want to die?'

Luna considered. It was genuinely unnerving to know that she was thinking about the question. Most people would have said "no" at once.

'No.' Luna answered at last. 'I'm too good at surviving. But I deserve it.'

'I'm not sure you do.'

'Bold claim. Especially for you.'

'I don't like to kill people.' Fymryn sighed. 'And who's to say that you deserve to die? Maybe you're still alive because you don't. Maybe some god has a purpose for you.'

'I'm done with gods.'

'I don't blame you.'

'You serve Mene.'

'I was raised to. And I have to believe that everything I have done, no matter how terrible it may be, no matter what it's cost, will mean something in the end.'

'Be careful what you wish for, Fymryn. There is always a price to pay.'

'What?'

Luna grimaced. 'It's something Mirana said.'

'I'm sorry about your foot.'

'It was that or your life. And it was hardly my best feature, not that it looks much better now.' She smirked. 'If you could have anybody here, who would you pick?'

Fymryn sighed. 'Don't.'

'Why not? It's just a question. I'm not saying that you have to go through with it. Mind you, Marci and Davion seem to be the couple here.' Luna took another draw from her flask. Fymryn wondered how much she could actually drink before getting drunk. 'I'd go for Mirana.'

'Really?'

'She's good looking. Really good looking.'

'She is. You wouldn't have Davion?'

'Maybe. But Marci would break my jaw.'

'Not Marci either?'

'Eh… she's cute, but not my type.'

'Caewyn's cute.'

'Not my type either. Eserren would kill me for it anyway.'

'Hey,' Fymryn tapped Luna's arm and pointed. 'What's Sagan doing?'

Luna frowned as the lunar tiger paced around, sniffing for something and occasionally releasing a low, throaty, mournful howl. 'He's looking for something. Or someone.' She stood and hurried down the worn steps. 'Where's Mirana?'

'Here,' Mirana announced wearily. 'What is it?'

Luna frowned. 'Something's bothering Sagan.'

Mirana rubbed her eyes and listened. It took her a moment to pick out the low sound. When she did, she snatched up her bow and jumped to her feet, running out to where Sagan was.

Luna hissed a curse, grabbed her blade, and ran after her. 'Mirana, what is it?'

Mirana came to a halt not far from Sagan. 'Marci? Marci, where are you? Marci? Marci!'

Luna frowned again. 'He's looking for Marci?'

Mirana sighed. 'Technically he bonded with Marci, not me.'

'What?'

'I'll tell you later. Look around. Davion? Davion, are you out here?'

Luna froze as the response came: nothing. Davion wasn't there either.

She turned to Mirana, who was trying to coax Sagan into searching for a scent. 'Mirana, how much control does Davion have over that dragon in his soul?'

'Not much, why?' Mirana's face fell and went ashen a moment later. 'Oh no! No!'

'Nova! Komi!' Nova came bounding over at once and lowered herself so that Luna could climb onto her back. 'I need something with her scent.'

Mirana looked around desperately, her eyes alighting on something next to the crumbling wall where she had found Marci and Davion earlier. Her heart sank when she realised that it was a piece of Davion's tunic, the edges red with blood.

He had transformed again.

'Is that Marci's?' Luna asked quietly.

'Davion's.' Mirana held it in front of Nova's nose. Nova sniffed loudly, then grunted and turned eastwards. 'Are they going to Knight's Hearth?'

'Doesn't matter. We can catch them.' Luna did not waste any more time, she spurred Nova into a run. Behind her, Mirana jumped onto Sagan's back and whistled to him, prompting him to run after Nova.


When Marci caught up with him, he was stooping over the young thunderhide he had just killed. He tore a chunk of flesh free and shoved it into his mouth, enjoying the coppery taste of fresh blood and the texture of the meat, pushing a little fire up his throat to cook it as he chewed. It had been too long since he'd had a meal like this.

He knew that she was there. She thought that he was unaware of her presence. He had made sure that she and she alone would see him.

And as he had predicted, she had impulsively followed him alone.

He had to admit that he was somewhat grateful towards Mirana. Though he could shut out what Davion sensed and thought, it was only to a limited degree. He'd had no desire to be an unwilling witness to human copulation.

Davion was still there, trying to regain control. Slyrak would not let him, not yet. This was certainly more important than Davion and Marci's desires for each other.

Slyrak ate another handful of meat. 'I know you are there, wurm-forged. Stop hiding.'

He heard her footsteps behind him. She whistled Davion's name.

'You and I must speak.' Slyrak straightened and turned to her, fixing her with his yellow eyes. She was such a small thing compared to him, taller only than Caewyn. It was no wonder that people underestimated her. Who would have looked upon her and expected her to possess such great strength? 'I'm not going to eat you. Human flesh is not as enjoyable as that of a thunderhide.'

Marci just stared up at him, her pale brown eyes slightly narrowed.

He could not maintain the transformation indefinitely, and this was something he had to ensure himself. 'My time is short, handmaiden. I cannot leave Davion's soul. Not now. But I must prepare you for the battle to come. The Omniknight is right: destroying Terrorblade's Direstone is your purpose in the Battle for Creation. But unless you can rouse your power at will, you will fail.'

Marci tapped the amulet under her tunic and indicated her head, miming speaking.

'You cannot rely on that voice. It speaks too little and too rarely. It roused your power once, but that power is yours, not anybody else's.' He moved closer, towering over her. 'Unleash it. Unleash it now.'

Marci just stared up at him.

'You do not deserve it,' Slyrak told her. 'You did not even earn this power. You simply had the good fortune to be born with it, this stolen gift, the legacy of a murderer.

Your true parents abandoned you because they knew what you were: a freak who would bring only chaos and grief into their lives, just as you did for the ones who took you in, for those who thought you a friend. You are too weak to master it, too soft to use it properly.' He advanced closer still. 'You are too afraid, mongrel.'

Marci held her ground. He could see the anger smouldering in her eyes, sense the rhythm of her heart, beating like a war-drum, smell the mingled blood in her veins as it surged.

'You failed her. If you had been less ignorant, if you have been stronger, you could have stopped her enemies.'

Marci shook her head.

'No? Then prove it! Show me that you are not weak. Show me that you deserve this power. Unless you prove it to me, I might as well end your worthless life and the lives of your friends, for Terrorblade will not be as merciful as I when he rules Creation.'

Marci shuddered, then balled her hands into fists. She closed her eyes.

The rhythm hastened. Light began to seep from her skin, forming a mellifluous aura around her.

She was close! She was so close! He just needed to push her a little further.

'Do it.'

She gritted her teeth.

'Feel the power in your blood. Give it free rein. Release it utterly. Show me your strength. Show me the colours of your heart.'

Her knuckles went white as she dug her nails into her skin.

'It is yours to control. Yours to master. Yours to use for whatever purpose you see fit. It does not control you. It is part of you. It is in your blood, your heart, your soul.' He stepped in closer, leaning down so that he was almost nose-to-forehead with her. 'Unleash.'

She trembled, the aura growing more intense, warming his scales.

'Do it.'

The aura grew brighter around her hands. Light began to seep through her eyelids.

'Do it!'

The aura became painful to look upon. Where the light touched his scales, they hissed and began to steam.

'UNLEASH!'

Marci's eyes flew open.

Slyrak's face broke into a victorious grin. Marci's eyes were completely aglow with golden light, her power unleashed. He had helped her to understand. He had not coaxed it out of her, not truly, she did this by her own will.

And her eyes continued to burn with pure light, though she was not fighting. She was angry and desperate, but not overruled by her emotions. She was maintaining it herself.

She was in control.

'Yes!' Slyrak hissed. 'Good! Good! Maybe you are worthy after all, handmaiden.'

Marci could not maintain the power infinitely, but she was in control now. She knew how to rouse it, how to direct it. Whether this was the full extent of her power, Slyrak did not know. But it would be enough.

Slyrak crouched, looking into the bright glow which was her burning sight, appearing as just a vague shape in a world of golden light. 'You are ready, Marci of Rasolir. You are ready.'

Slyrak had done what he had to. He withdrew willingly, giving Davion control, allowing their shared form to revert back to its natural human shape. But he remained aware as Davion staggered, his clothes shredded once again, falling into Marci's arms. He felt the heat emanating from her skin, felt it recede as she made her power diminish rather than letting it fade. The light withdrew, her eyes stopped glowing, and she blinked them clear as she helped Davion to stand.

'Marci?' Davion looked into her eyes, noticing the tears sparkling within. Slyrak felt a twinge of guilt for pushing her, for upsetting her, but he'd had to. Davion would ease her pain.

Marci stepped closer, wrapping her arms around him and resting her head against his bare, scarred chest. He held her, the warmth of her skin still bleeding through her tunic.

'I'm sorry, Marci.' Davion whispered. 'He says that he's sorry too.'

Marci sighed, holding him close.

'You know, this isn't what I had in mind for tonight. It's not been that fun, has it? Or romantic.'

Marci huffed and smiled. She whistled softly, tracing her fingers across a curving scar on his back. She'd found a silver lining, one which would make Mirana roll her eyes once again.

He heard the thumping of Sagan and Nova's paws as they loped towards them. He heard Luna shout, 'There they are!'

He did not look up. He just held Marci close, resting his head against hers.

'Marci!' Mirana called, sliding off Sagan's back. 'Marci? Are you hurt? Davion…' she stopped, saw that he was naked, again, and rolled her eyes. 'Seriously, Davion?'

'Maybe I was right.' Luna muttered. 'But it might help if you took your clothes off too, Marci. It works best as a mutual exchange.'

Marci turned her head and stuck out her tongue at Luna.

Davion chuckled. 'That's not what was happening, Luna. Slyrak decided he wanted something to eat.'

'Is Marci's cooking not good enough for him?' Mirana asked. She sighed, reached into Sagan's saddlebags, and fished out a tattered cloak, which she threw to Davion. 'Marci may enjoy this, I may be accustomed to it, but you should preserve what little dignity you have, Davion.'

'Must he?' Luna inquired, raising an eyebrow. 'I reckon we'd be better off giving them some privacy, although,' she eyed the dead thunderhide, which was starting to attract flies, 'this may not be the best spot for it.'

Davion finished tying the cloak around his waist like a loincloth. 'Something good did come out of this though, thanks to Slyrak.'

Mirana noticed the way Marci cast an admiring eye over Davion's bare skin. 'You mean something apart from exciting Marci?'

Marci climbed onto Sagan's back, extending her arm to hoist Davion up behind her. Mirana climbed onto Nova, sitting behind Luna. 'We'll show you back at the outpost.' Davion said. 'I know somebody will be pleased.'


Bram still felt uneasy as he followed Jorsen, his new armour still feeling strange. The silvery scales rustled as the horse walked forwards, the scabbard containing his longsword swaying as he rode.

Jorsen looked more certain, but Bram knew of their shared misgivings. Though he was glad that Jorsen had no wish to harm Davion, he knew that whatever the Fathers had in mind, it would not be good for his friend.

They wove between the vast bones poking out of the soil, the remains of dragons slain long ago.

They had given this place a simple name: the Graveyard. This was where the first Dragon Knights had dumped the despoiled carcasses of the first dragons they had slain. There had been more than they could bury, and though many of the skeletons had long ago turned to dust, many more still remained, scores left upon the ground, the earth underneath already thick with bones.

They were riding past the entangled skeletal limbs of three dragons. One of them was a fire dragon, there was so little left of the other two that Bram was unsure what kind they had been.

The summons had gone out. Many Dragon Knights were reluctant to teleport to Dragon Keep, not with sky, earth, ionic and chaos dragons all across the world suddenly going insane and laying waste to all around them. Yet they obeyed regardless, answering the call of the Great Hunt.

'I once asked Davion how many dragon skeletons were buried here.' Bram murmured. 'He didn't have an answer.'

'Nobody does.' Jorsen said. 'Some have tried to guess, but we'll never know for certain.'

'Nobody knows how long a dragon can live for either.'

'Dragons never die of old age.'

Bram hesitated. 'Part of me wonders now whether we're right to kill them.'

'They're dangerous and destructive.'

'We know so little about them.' Bram mused. 'The Order tried to wipe out the wurm-forged, and we know so little about them too.'

'They were dangerous and destructive too.'

Bram nodded slowly. 'So are we.'

Jorsen glanced at one of the skeletons. 'Yes, Bram. So are we. So are we.'

'Does it do us any good to become what we fight?'

'When did you become a philosopher, Bram?'

'We just know so little about them, really. We don't understand what has happened to Davion, yet the Fathers want him dead, or worse. Lots of dragons are on the rampage now that their Eldwurms are gone. Nobody expected it.'

'Some things you can only discover through trial and error.'

'Yes.' Bram agreed. 'But I wonder if we're just making errors now.'

Jorsen glanced round at him, his eyes roving over him and onto the Dragon Knights and squires following them. 'You had best be mindful of that talk for now, Bram.'

Bram nodded. As they rode between the ancient bones, he once again found himself wondering how it had come to this.


'There they are!' Caewyn shouted.

Eserren stopped pacing as the two night-beasts came to a halt, their riders dismounting.

'And Davion ended up naked.' Eserren muttered dryly. 'Again.'

'That's not a bad thing.' Fymryn remarked.

Purist noticed something different. It was subtle, but it was there for him to see: a change in Marci's bearing.

'What happened?' Eserren demanded.

'Is anybody hurt?' Aiushtha inquired.

'We're fine,' Mirana assured them. 'Nobody was hurt.'

Davion placed his hand on Marci's shoulder, guiding her forwards. He gave her an encouraging smile and nodded. Marci returned the smile, then stepped forwards and closed her eyes.

Purist heard Aiushtha gasp as light seeped from Marci's skin, forming a bright nimbus around her body. When she opened her eyes, they were completely aglow with intense golden light.

'What does this mean, Purist?' Aiushtha whispered.

'It means that we have a chance, Aiushtha,' he answered slowly. He started to smile. 'It means that we could win.'


In response to a guest reviewer going by the name of Angel (if they're reading this far), I'm not sure I could write a Dragon's Blood/DOTA + Naruto crossover. I don't actually know anything about Naruto for a start. However, I do know of another fanfic writer called ShinigamiNoKitsune209 who does specialise in Naruto crossovers. Maybe they could be of help to you?

In case anybody is wondering, I haven't forgotten the Gallants. I just wanted to give Luna a bit more time to integrate with the group before they turn up.