Chapter Twenty-Eight
Before The End
Carliven continued to lean on his staff throughout, eyes fixed on Davion. A few times, his penetrating gaze wandered to Marci. Mirana remained tense, wondering just what she would do if the Dragon Knights attacked.
Die, she suspected. She was unarmed and without armour. Maybe if Davion transformed, they would have a chance, but… if this went wrong, they would all die sooner or later.
The dragon skeleton hanging from the ceiling did not put her at ease. Nothing in this place did. They would either be executed here, or this would be where they made what could be their final stand.
By the time Davion was finished, Jorsen and Bram were both pale with fear. Ritterfau was sceptical. Carliven just continued to stare.
'You expect us to believe any of this?' Ritterfau demanded.
'Father,' Bram spoke up, 'I've never known Davion to lie.'
'Eserren certainly wouldn't go against her orders without good reason.' Jorsen added.
'And the things we saw...' Bram shuddered. 'Everything we've heard, the fall of Knight's Hearth… Fathers, Davion has to be telling the truth.'
Ritterfau waved a hand. 'This is just as ridiculous as what those women told us!'
'What women?' Luna frowned.
Carliven jerked his head. Two of the Knights snapped to attention and left the chamber.
Mirana noticed the heavy tome on the desk, filled with what seemed to be anatomical diagrams, and they weren't of dragons. They appeared to be drawings of humanoids.
She couldn't read the words, they were in a language she did not know. But the drawings alone, accompanied by Carliven's intense stares towards Davion and Marci, made her uneasy.
Luna and Purist seemed to be aware of it too. Luna had barely blinked since entering the room. Mirana wasn't sure if Purist had blinked at all. Marci's eyes ranged over every Dragon Knight in the chamber, taking note of every movement, trying to spot weaknesses, assessing dangers.
'What women?' Luna repeated.
'Two strangers turned up before you did.' Jorsen answered. 'Both women, claiming to be from Icewrack.'
'And they made claims similar to your own,' Ritterfau muttered. 'Father Carliven, surely we should investigate Knight's Hearth? In all likelihood, Vylgranox or another Eldwurm is responsible.'
'Vylgranox is dead.' Purist stated. 'His corpse is possessed by Terrorblade.'
Ritterfau scoffed and folded his arms. Carliven said nothing.
The two Knights returned, escorting two women. One was of average height, with long blonde plaits, grey eyes and wearing fur-trimmed blue robes. The other was tall and slim, with dark azure eyes and long blue hair, clad in simpler robes. Of the two, the latter seemed calmer, despite the Knights watching them as if they were angry vipers.
The blue-haired woman smiled when she saw Davion and inclined her head. 'Greetings, Davion. And to you as well, Slyrak. It's good to meet in person, at last.'
Mirana raised her eyebrows.
'Uh… do I know you?' Davion frowned. Something about her voice was familiar, but the rest was not.
'Oh! Of course! I looked… different the last time we spoke. I am Auroth.'
Ritterfau scoffed again. 'See what I mean? Auroth is long dead.'
'Maybe she just has the same name?' Bram suggested. 'A daughter perhaps? That might explain why new books under Auroth's name keep turning up.'
'Good reasoning,' Auroth approved. 'But the truth is simpler. I am Auroth. The Auroth.'
'It's true,' the blonde woman nodded. 'You'll have to take our word for it.'
'Forgive me,' Auroth indicated her friend. 'This is Rylai, my student and friend.'
'I find it hard to take the word of people who showed up here with Warlocks and Fell-Speakers in tow.' Ritterfau said.
'We can explain,' Rylai murmured. 'If you'd let us.'
Auroth sighed and walked towards Carliven, ignoring the Knights who drew their weapons. 'Sheath your weapons. I am no danger to you. But it's time I showed you the truth.'
Davion knew what was coming. Auroth strode past Carliven, into the open space in the middle of the chamber, turned to face them and closed her eyes. Her form started to change.
Mirana was reminded of how Davion changed. Scales, blue edged with white, emerged from Auroth's skin, but without blood. Her arms elongated, thick membranes unfolded from them. Her body swelled, a tail unfurling from the end of her spine, her legs changing shape and growing larger. Her face extended and became a draconic snout.
It was as Davion had said: Auroth was a wyvern.
Auroth angled her head towards Ritterfau. 'Now do you believe me?'
Caewyn gasped softly. 'Her scales are so pretty!' she whispered to Eserren.
'She's a bloody wyvern!' Jorsen exclaimed. 'How… how can she...'
Auroth closed her eyes again. She shrank back into her human form, her wings and tail folding away. 'When I decided that I wanted to become a scholar and study other cultures, I realised that I would need a disguise, so I studied polymorphy. It's easier to write in human form too. As I'm sure you can imagine, wyverns aren't built to hold quills.'
'This explains a few things,' Carliven spoke at last. 'And I had my suspicions.'
'If you're a wyvern, why would you publish so many books devoted to killing dragons?' Ritterfau demanded. 'And how come you are intelligent? Wyverns are just like every lesser dragon: soulless beasts.'
Auroth scowled. 'Those books were meant to help people to understand dragons, not kill them. I had hoped that knowledge might help people to coexist with my kind,' she sighed. 'I was wrong, obviously. As for my circumstances, I am unique: my father...' she paused for a moment, her face creasing with sadness. 'My father was Aethrak. Lirrak is my mother. I am the child of two Eldwurms, the first in history. I overcame the Madness when it struck and mastered myself. And now we are here. I know that you probably want to kill me, the usual reaction of those who do not understand, or are unwilling to understand, but now is not the time for us to fight amongst ourselves. I imagine that Davion has told you why he is here, and why Slyrak has fused himself to his soul. I brought the Fell-Speakers here for the same reason: to defeat Terrorblade and end the threat he poses once and for all.'
Jorsen frowned. 'You mean there's more to it than say… cutting off his head?'
'Demons cannot be slain.' Rylai stated grimly. 'Only banished.'
'And Terrorblade is unique in his ability to not only consume souls, but also to harvest any power they may possess. It's why he was imprisoned in the first place.' Auroth explained. 'Even if you destroyed his avatar, he would be able to return, and he would retain the power he stole. He would only need to possess another dragon to use them. Unless we can seal him away for good, defeating him serves no purpose.'
Davion rubbed his forehead. 'How do we do that?'
'That's why I went to the Ultimyr Academy: to find out how. Happily, it was not a trip made in vain. Just as well, really, I hate that place.' Auroth cleared her throat. 'Anyway, Rylai figured it out. According to Demnok Lannik, Terrorblade's prison, Foulfell, is filled with mirrors meant to torment him and other prisoners kept within.
Somehow, Terrorblade has figured out how to use them as windows into this world. If we destroy them, we can trap him for good. That's why we need the Fell-Speakers: they will allow us to enter Foulfell.'
'Then it falls to others to keep Terrorblade busy here, I assume?' Jorsen supposed.
'No. Terrorblade is not fully within our world. No Demon ever is, even when summoned.' Rylai said. 'He is still in Foulfell, controlling the corpse of Vylgranox from his sanctum. Whoever travels into Foulfell will have to face him there.'
Davion sighed. 'That falls to me and Slyrak.'
Marci tapped his arm and indicated herself.
'That's very noble of you,' Auroth approved. 'But we'll need to create the opportunity. The Fell-Speakers will find it easier to open a portal if we can defeat Terrorblade's avatar. According to the Warlocks, if Terrorblade is banished, it will weaken the barriers between our world and the Hells for a short time.'
'What about the Direstone?' Mirana inquired.
'There are Radiantstones,' Bram muttered thoughtfully, 'if we could find one...'
'There's no time for that,' Fymryn shook her head.
Marci nodded and signed. Mirana translated for her. 'Fymryn is right. Terrorblade is almost upon us, and Radiantstones are just as hard to find as Direstones. Marci stumbled upon the Direstone in the Broken Peaks by accident. I can only imagine that Terrorblade has not sought out others for similar reasons.'
'Orrak could destroy it,' Auroth answered. 'As the Radiant Eldwurm, she is an opposing force to the Dire. No doubt she's waiting for Slyrak to call for her. But with Vylgranox's power, Terrorblade can stop her.'
'Then how do we destroy the stone?' Ritterfau demanded.
Marci whistled, lifted a fist and tapped it.
'Seriously? We punch it?'
'No, Marci does.' Aiushtha corrected. 'She has some sort of… something.'
Marci sighed and signed again. Davion nodded and explained for her. 'Marci is a radiant wurm-forged. And she has Orrak's blood.
I've seen her resist the Direstone's power. Twice. You all know how she defeated Kaden. Thanks to Slyrak, she has now mastered her power. If we can get her to the Direstone, she can destroy it.'
'By punching it?' Carliven sounded sceptical.
Mirana couldn't help but smile when she heard the admiration in Davion's voice. 'You haven't seen what Marci can do, Father.'
'We came here for your help, Fathers,' Eserren said. 'You've already summoned every available Dragon Knight. This is the best place for a stand against Terrorblade and his army.'
'Fathers!' another Dragon Knight came hurrying into the Sanctum. 'There is a survivor from Knight's Hearth here. He's Galiman's squire!'
Ritterfau gawped for a moment. 'Bring him in!'
The Knight hurried off, quickly returning with Galiman's squire. The poor boy looked terrified.
'Galiman?' Caewyn whispered. 'Have I heard that name?'
'I met him when I first joined the Order.' Eserren told her quietly. 'He was a friend of Kaden's.'
'Tell us what happened, squire Tomos.' Carliven instructed.
Tomos shuddered and proceeded to tell them, falteringly, how an army of revenants led by what appeared to be a maimed dragon had massacred the city, joined by chaos, sky, ionic and earth dragons. Galiman had not returned, which meant that he had likely fallen during the battle.
'It's just as we told you, Fathers,' Eserren stated. 'Terrorblade has bolstered his army with those he has slain at Knight's Hearth.'
'The garuda riders we sent out have also returned,' one of the Knights reported. 'They have all brought the same tidings: an army at least one-hundred thousand strong is marching this way, with dragons. And Vylgranox is leading them.'
'How many times do we have to say it?' Fymryn grimaced. 'Vylgranox is dead!'
'We cannot hold against such a force!' Jorsen exclaimed. 'We have seven thousand men, maybe less!'
'You have us.' Luna muttered.
'And I sent two of my Pangoliers to bring reinforcements.' Donté added. 'With luck, they will be here in less than a week.'
'Knight's Hearth is but two days from Dragon Keep!' Ritterfau snapped. 'By then, it will be too late!'
'Then we must hold until then.' Eserren stated.
'Eserren is right.' Davion agreed. 'We have a strong position here, and we have the means and the weapons to fight off Terrorblade's dragon thralls.'
'Why should we do any of this?' Ritterfau demanded. 'If you ask me, we should leave. This Terrorblade wants Davion, does he not? Why not give him what he wants?'
Marci whistled sharply, made a series of rapid gestures, her eyes narrowed, then stuck her middle finger up at Ritterfau. Ritterfau fumed and reached for his sword.
Purist moved between them. 'Father, you'll have to forgive Marci. But she is right to be angry. We've told you why we have to fight. If we abandon Davion, we allow Terrorblade to claim a victory.'
'Slyrak made a great sacrifice to keep Terrorblade from dominating Creation.' Auroth agreed. 'If we don't stop him here and now, we never will.'
'Fathers?' Yet another Knight hurried in.
'What now?' Ritterfau groaned.
'We have more visitors.'
'Survivors from Knight's Hearth?' Carliven supposed.
'No, Father Carliven. They're… they're soldiers from the Helio Imperium.'
'What?' Ritterfau spluttered.
'That was fast!' Donté exclaimed. 'Very fast!'
'Can somebody please explain?' Ritterfau demanded.
'They turned up at the gates not long after Galiman's squire did. They came from the coast. There's ten of them.'
Luna scowled at Donté. 'I thought you said they sent a cohort!'
Donté nodded. 'I saw them myself, Lady Luna. Perhaps they sent scouts ahead.'
'Their leader says that he needs to speak with some Princess of the Sun immediately. Since I don't know who that is, I had him brought here.'
Carliven sighed. 'Call him in.'
The doors opened once again, allowing a tall man in Imperium lorica to march in, his plumed helm under his arm. His eyes widened when he saw Mirana and he advanced towards her, ignoring everybody else, and dropped to one knee before her, his head bowed. 'Princess Mirana, I am happy beyond words to see you alive and well.'
Marci whistled softly, her eyes wide.
'Commander Garrisan?' Mirana breathed. 'Donté said you were serving with the First Legion, but I didn't expect you to arrive so soon. Please, rise,' she smiled warmly at him. 'It's so good to see you again!'
Garrisan remained on one knee. 'I failed you and your father six years ago, Princess. Though I can never hope to redeem myself, I would be honoured to fight for you.' He reached down and drew his spatha, now polished and honed. 'My sword is yours, as is my life, if you would have them.'
Mirana crouched, took his arm and guided him to his feet. 'You never failed me, Garrisan, or my father. You did your duty. You never betrayed us. If you wish to fight alongside us, you are more than welcome to do so, as a friend. If we survive this, I would be more than happy to name you as the Commander of the Sun Guard once again.'
'Nothing would bring me greater honour than to serve you, Princess.'
'I don't think I can find the will to follow any more of this.' Ritterfau muttered.
'Why are Imperium troops here?' Jorsen asked. 'And why is this soldier offering to serve a Dark Moon Priestess?'
Marci mimed Mirana's tiara. Davion decided to explain. 'Because Mirana is the heir to the Solar Throne. The Legions are here for her.'
Jorsen shook his head and sighed.
'Davion, fate must have a weird sense of humour.' Bram remarked.
'Yeah,' Davion half-smiled grimly. 'I just don't get the joke.'
'What about the others?' Mirana asked. 'Are the rest of the troops with you?'
'No, I came here with a few men ahead of the fleet.' Garrisan explained. 'We met Sir Donté's men at the coast, and they've gone to bring the rest of our soldiers. They'll be here soon.'
Carliven exchanged a significant look with Ritterfau. 'We will consider everything you have put before us. Knights, escort them outside. Find chambers for them. Davion, stay for a moment. We have important matters to discuss.'
Marci glanced at Davion, then shook her head.
'It's all right, Marci.' Mirana frowned when she heard his tone. He sounded resigned, as if he was marching to the gallows whilst putting on a brave face. 'Go on. Look after Mirana.'
Marci hesitated.
'This conversation is not for you, handmaiden.' Carliven stated. 'Leave now, or we have no alliance.'
He meant it. Mirana couldn't believe it, nor did she like leaving Davion with the Fathers, but they had little choice. Davion nodded to her. Mirana returned the nod and took Marci's hand. 'Come on, Marci. He'll be fine.' She glowered at Carliven. 'I'm certain of that.'
Carliven said nothing, nor did he seem to be intimidated. But she had made her point. Reluctantly, Mirana and Marci left with the others, leaving Davion alone with the Fathers.
Marci was barely distracted from her worrying by Garrisan, who was telling Mirana what had happened in the Imperium after the Bloody Dance. Much of what had occurred, they had been told by Donté in broad strokes. Garrisan had more detail for them, including more about the Regent, Lina.
'She sounds… interesting.' Mirana noted.
'She has a good heart.' Garrisan said. 'But little patience for subtlety.'
'I can't believe that Drysi is there!' Luna uttered once again, shaking her head.
'You know her?' Aiushtha guessed.
'I knew her.' Luna shrugged. 'I haven't seen her for… at least ten years now.'
They had been shown to temporary lodgings, simple rooms with simpler furnishings. But after spending so long sleeping outdoors, exposed to the elements, Marci was happy to just have a proper mattress to sleep on. She would be happier when Davion showed up.
If the Fathers had done anything to him… she curled her hands into fists.
'How are you supposed to wear these?' Aiushtha wondered, holding up a pair of cuisses.
'I don't think those will fit you, Aiushtha.' Mirana said carefully.
At Purist's suggestion, some of the more lightly equipped of them had gone down to the armoury, watched over by more Dragon Knights.
Marci had never seen so much armour and weaponry in one place before. Even the armoury of the Sun Guard had been smaller. Stands covered in armour lined the room, and most of the space was taken up by racks of weapons.
There were smiths on hand to adjust any armour they chose. Orders had been relayed that exceptions were to be made for their guests.
Although Luna had some armour, she was now being fitted with additional plate. Marci could not fault her practicality, though she preferred to remain light on her feet.
Mirana picked up a breastplate and held it against her torso, frowning. She caught Marci's eye and they both smiled, remembering how poorly their stolen armour had fitted back in Weiß Wache.
Davion was still absent as Marci took a newly adjusted plackart over to the others. Aiushtha was very much out of her depth, mostly fitted with armour meant for a destrier.
'I can't believe it's come down to this.' Mirana murmured.
Luna grunted as she strapped on her cuirass. 'Believe it, Princess. Denial won't help.'
'Sensitive and sympathetic as always, Luna.' Caewyn remarked. Out of all of them, she had struggled the most to find anything even close to her size. As she had explained to Luna, Eserren had made her brigandine vest for her.
Marci expected Luna to snap, make some nasty remark, maybe even hit Caewyn. But Luna half-smiled grimly instead.
Marci looked up to see movement, something red, in the armoury doorway. Davion was back at last, looking troubled. She smiled at him.
Davion nodded to them, then carried on down the hallway. Marci looked to Mirana, who nodded, and she set off after him.
Davion was not moving quickly. Perhaps he had hoped that Marci would follow him, or he was occupied.
Marci touched his arm when she caught up, noticing that he was carrying the Trestaine greatsword, and was escorted by a pair of Knights with their weapons partially drawn.
'Hey, Marci,' Davion tried to force some more cheer into his voice.
Marci raised her eyebrows.
'I'll explain later.'
Marci wasn't happy about that, but she did not press him for details. He'd respected her wishes in the past. It was only fair. But still… what had he and the Fathers agreed on? Whatever it was, she felt uneasy.
The walls became rough-hewn and the air grew stiflingly hot as they descended more steps, heading into what must have been the depths of the Keep. Marci found herself wiping her brow as sweat stung her eyes.
'The Forge,' Davion announced as they entered a vast cavern filled with baffling contraptions, which could only have been of keenish design. 'If I'm going to face Terrorblade, I'm going to need a better weapon. I can't leave everything to you.' He winked at her. 'They say that size doesn't matter, but there's always an exception.'
Marci huffed, her sides twitching a little. If size did matter, he had nothing to worry about.
Davion approached the oglodi whom Marci assumed was in charge of the Forge. The man looked like he could bend steel with his bare hands. He frowned at Davion as he laid the Trestaine greatsword on the anvil. 'Didn't expect to see you again.'
'I didn't expect to see you with, Grores.'
'I don't think Torrhorn would have wanted you to come back. Not after what you did.'
Marci frowned and moved closer, eyes fixed on Grores.
'Now is not the time, Grores.'
'Aye. I know.' Grores examined the sword. 'Not bad steel. I can make this into a Dragon Knight's weapon. Won't be too remarkable though, not without dragon scales.'
'I know.' Davion nodded. 'But I'll take what I can get.'
Marci tapped his arm as she reached into one of her pouches. She held out her hand.
Davion raised his eyebrows, taking one of the crimson dragon scales and examining it. 'You kept them?'
Marci shrugged. In truth, she wasn't sure why she had picked up some of the scales Davion had shed. She had thought that they might be useful, or could at least serve as mementos.
Davion smiled at her as he handed the scale to Grores. 'Will these do?'
Grores examined it with a slight frown. His eyes widened as he touched it to his anvil, which caused the metal to thrum. Not an ordinary anvil then, but what was ordinary in here?
'Where did you get these?' Grores demanded.
'I shed them.' Davion stated simply. 'Or Slyrak did, I suppose.'
'Hmm,' Grores rumbled. 'I can make you a weapon with these. A fine weapon it would be too. Very fine indeed.'
'Too fine for a traitor?'
Grores grunted. 'I don't make shoddy stuff, Davion, and if what they've told me is true, now is not the time for grudges. You'll have a weapon worthy of these scales, I swear it.'
Marci mopped yet more sweat from her brow as she reached the next flight of stairs. Rasolir had been warm. This place was hotter than Misrule. Her throat was already parched.
Davion had suggested that she wait for him somewhere cooler. He would be a while. As much as she mistrusted the Fathers and their lackeys, she had realised that they did not want to kill him. Not yet, anyway, and she would not let them.
They had been given the run of a common room too, watched over by Jorsen. He seemed especially wary of Marci, despite the fact that Auroth was now known to be a wyvern.
Caewyn was bombarding Auroth with questions. Eserren had suggested that she allow Auroth to have some peace, but Auroth had no objection to Caewyn's curiosity. She found it refreshing. Bram was likewise curious, listening to Auroth as she spoke, though his eyes seemed to linger on Caewyn even when she wasn't asking something.
The door opened at last. Marci jumped to her feet as Davion walked in, looking weary and grim. Marci approached him quickly, restraining herself from running, staring up him with obvious concern, and laid her hand on his arm.
'I'm fine, Marci.' Davion assured her, forgetting their audience for a moment as he caressed her cheek. 'There was… we just had to sort a few things out.'
Marci raised her eyebrows expectantly, still concerned.
'Slyrak wants to summon the other Eldwurms, and more dragons. And… if we survive I...' he stopped. Marci continued to stare up at him, urging him to finish with a silent plea. 'Well, we have to survive first. But they'll let you go when it's done. They don't want to antagonist the future Empress of the Helio Imperium.'
Marci wanted to ask what would become of him, but was interrupted by Fymryn. 'How many dragons?'
'As many as can reach us in time.' Davion answered, releasing Marci. She noticed the Dragon Knights outside, still watching them warily.
It made sense, Marci supposed. But where would they go with the enemy almost on top of them? The fortress was as much their prison as their refuge now.
She was starting to realise just how scared she really was. She had been in plenty of fights. But a battle such as this? It could very well be the last the world ever knew too.
At least it would be over soon, one way or another.
Davion ran a hand through his hair. 'Did they leave us anything to drink? I could murder a beer.'
There was a man behind the common room's bar, who was watching them curiously as he pretended to clean a flagon for the umpteenth time.
Davion approached the bar with Marci. Once again, she leaned on the wooden surface the same way she had back in Barreltown, which brought a melancholy smile to Davion's face. Mirana joined them.
'What will it be?' The barman lowered the overly clean flagon at last.
'I don't suppose there's any point in asking for an Icewrack White?' Mirana muttered.
'I've got a couple of bottles here.'
'You're joking!' Mirana exclaimed. Marci had perked up at that.
'Nope.'
'I could kiss you!'
'Steady on, love,' the barman placed two bottles before them. 'Might not be the best vintage, but it's still cold.'
Marci whistled and eagerly indicated herself.
'Two then. Easy enough.'
'I wouldn't mind seeing what all the fuss is about,' Davion remarked. 'Count me in.'
'I'll have one as well, please.' Eserren added. 'Caewyn? Do you want some too? All right, make that two for us, please.'
'Take the bottles,' the barman suggested. 'I hear we might all be dead soon, so you might as well enjoy it while you can.'
Mirana took the two bottles and they returned to their somewhat cramped table. Aiushtha looked very out of place, unable to sit on a chair, her legs folded under her body.
'Do you drink, Aiushtha?' Donté inquired.
'I have eaten fermented berries before.'
'I'll take that as a "yes".' Davion chuckled. 'Trust me, you'll want at least one drink before we get started.'
'I ought to keep a clear head.' Purist stated.
'Don't be like that, Purist,' Fymryn chided, rolling her eyes. 'We could all be dead soon. Let's enjoy a little peace and quiet together.'
'For once, I agree with Fymryn.' Luna concurred. 'And I really need a drink.'
'Not too much, Luna.' Mirana warned.
Luna scrunched up her face and stuck out her tongue like Marci did, making them all burst out laughing. They passed around mismatched flagons and goblets of wine, with Purist eventually accepting his, if only to stop Fymryn and Caewyn from whining at him.
'It's only fair, Purist.' Davion remarked. 'If you sit at this table with us, you have to drink.'
'This is the strangest company I have ever found myself in.' Rylai commented. 'But having a taste of home is nice.'
'It's not bad.' Davion said. 'I think I could get used to this stuff.'
'I remember trying it for the first time.' Mirana smiled at the memory, chuckling as she lowered her goblet. 'It went straight to Marci's head.'
Marci blushed.
'It's not that strong.' Purist smiled. 'Otherwise I'd be in trouble.'
'Not accustomed to drinking, Purist?' Luna guessed.
'No, he is not.' Donté started to laugh. 'Forgive me, my friend, but I do recall the last time we found ourselves in a tavern. You ended up performing a very woeful rendition of a love ballad, vomited on the barman, and knocked yourself out with the door!'
Purist smiled ruefully. 'Indeed, I did. I don't suppose Marci did anything worse than that?'
Marci's blush intensified. Oddly, Mirana blushed too. 'Well… she decided to show off by carrying my bureau around the room, because I thought she couldn't, then she fumbled a handstand and smacked her head against the table.' Mirana smiled. 'And when I went to check how she was, she tried to kiss me.'
Fymryn's eyebrows shot up. 'Aww!'
Marci sighed and signed.
'It was just going to be a peck on the cheek.' Mirana recalled. 'She missed.'
'It went a bit further than that for Bram.' Davion raised his flagon in a mock salute as his squire flushed scarlet. 'But he passed out before he could take his hosen off.'
'Thanks, Davion,' Bram muttered. 'Does anybody mind if I find a rock to crawl under?'
'I would!' Caewyn trilled. 'We all do silly things when we're drunk.'
Luna scowled. 'I don't. I usually end up hitting people.'
'What about that time you got blind drunk and tried to take my clothes off?' Mirana asked.
'Did I?'
'You don't remember the Full Moon Celebration?'
'I thought I said I'd knock your teeth out.'
'That was the first one we attended together. This was the last one, before… before we left.'
'Oh.' Luna's cheeks went a little pink. 'Oh! Yes, I think I do remember. I… what did I say?'
Marci sighed again and made more gestures.
'You wanted to see what Selemene was so interested about.' Davion translated, taking Mirana by surprise.
'You're a fast learner, Davion.' Mirana remarked before turning back to Luna. 'I was a bit tipsy too, so I didn't try very hard to stop you. But… well, we were in full view of everybody else when you tried to take my robes off. Marci had to drag you away.'
'I passed out after that, didn't I?'
Marci signed again. 'Before she reached your quarters.'
'Right,' Luna paused before taking her next gulp of wine. 'Did you tuck me in?'
Marci nodded.
Luna frowned. 'Why?'
Marci shrugged, as if the answer was obvious.
'It was… kind of you. I wasn't nice to you, not after you embarrassed me during that first training session. Actually, I was never nice to you at all, was I?'
Marci shrugged again.
'Well...' Luna sighed. 'I know it's not really worth a damn, but I'm sorry.' She grimaced. 'I hate apologies.'
'Cheer up, Luna,' Fymryn poured some more wine into Luna's flagon. 'And I almost did the same as Bram when I first got drunk.'
'Really?' Caewyn grinned.
'Almost. But I went through with it. I slept with someone.'
'Really?' Caewyn repeated, looking intrigued.
Fymryn smiled sadly. 'Dyfed. I'd been struggling to pick the right time to… I was very shy about it all at first.'
'You could have fooled us!' Mirana chortled. 'You almost drove me mad with all of your flirting. Davion and Marci were bad enough.'
'Hey!' Davion put on a mock look of consternation. 'I thought my attempts at courtship were very refined and gentlemanly.'
'You have this bad habit of staring at Marci's...' Fymryn paused.
'I was looking to her for inspiration.' Davion claimed.
'Really? And were you inspired by her...' Fymryn sipped her wine, giving herself time to choose a word, 'hindquarters?'
Marci arched an eyebrow.
'You must have noticed.' Eserren said.
Marci blushed again.
'Oh, she did.' Mirana said knowingly. 'Didn't you notice the strut?'
'Only when Davion was watching. Very entertaining!' Fymryn grinned. 'Anyway, it was my first time.' Her face fell and she sighed sadly.
Luna hesitated, then reached over and awkwardly patted her shoulder. 'I'm sorry. If I could take it all back… but I can't, can I? No matter what I do, I never change.'
Marci shook her head.
'Perhaps it all happened for a reason.' Purist suggested sagely. 'You're here with us now, about to fight in the Battle for Creation. That means something.'
'There's always a price to pay.' Mirana muttered.
'You say that a lot.' Luna noted.
'Kashurra did too.'
Davion must have noticed the dip in the mood. 'What about you, Eserren? Any humorous tales you'd like to share with us?'
'I'm not one for being amusing, Davion. You should know that by now.'
'You can be, Mum,' Caewyn smiled. 'What about when you tried to show me how to use a crossbow safely, then nearly put a bolt through your own foot?'
'I'm not sure that was funny.'
'You laughed.'
Eserren smiled. 'I laughed because you did. You always manage to make things brighter, Sweetheart.' She lowered her flagon. 'Caewyn, you don't have to be here if—'
Caewyn didn't let her finish. 'There's nowhere else I'd rather be than at your side. Besides, what kind of squire would I be if I abandoned you now?'
'You should be a Knight too, Caewyn.' Mirana said. 'You stand up for what you believe in, and fight for the people you care about.'
'I had a good example to follow.' Caewyn beamed at Eserren.
'If we had more time, I would have loved to write all of this down.' Auroth said. 'It sounds like you all have some tales to share.'
'If we had more time, I… would have liked to see Lina again.' Rylai murmured. 'My "big" sister. She treated me like I was much younger, but we were only born a few minutes apart.'
'You're twins?' Donté was surprised.
'I know, we don't look alike.'
'But that is not a bad thing, fair lady.' Donté purred. 'You both have your own exquisite beauty.'
'You owe me five crowns.' Purist remarked.
'Can you blame me, my friend?'
'I would have liked to see my herd again.' Aiushtha murmured.
'Maybe you will.' Caewyn told her. 'Who says we're going to lose?'
'Caewyn has a point.' Fymryn agreed. 'Gathered around this table are some of the best warriors in the world.' Her face fell. 'For what it's worth, I'm sorry that I tricked some of you. It had to be done, but… I didn't enjoy it.'
'I don't want there to be any resentment between us, Fymryn.' Mirana assured her. 'Not now. Not even if we survive. And as Purist said, perhaps it all happened for a reason.' She paused. 'I would like to see Rasolir again. One last time.'
'All the more reason to survive, Princess.' Garrisan spoke at last. 'And I will do whatever it takes to ensure that. You will see your homeland again, I promise you that.'
'I appreciate that Garrisan. But watch over Marci too. I want us to return home together.'
Marci smiled and tapped Davion on the arm, her expression hopeful.
Davion smiled sadly at her. 'I'd like to see the Imperium too, with you.'
'I think that's enough wine for me, my friends.' Purist announced. 'Now, I must pray for guidance, and prepare for battle.'
'I'm going to check the archives,' Auroth decided. 'Knowledge is always useful.'
Bram and Rylai decided to go with her, if only to take their minds off the coming battle for a while. Most of the others decided to rest. Luna knew that she would not be able to sleep, so she went to walk the battlements. Fymryn dithered, not sure of what to do, far too nervous to try to sleep. Instead, she remained with Eserren and Caewyn, awkwardly silent.
Davion drained his flagon. Marci looked round at him, blushing a little. Either it was the wine, or…
She swallowed. She knew where she wanted to be. Who she wanted to be with. But how?
Davion's face creased. He was hiding something, she was sure of it. Whatever it was, he didn't have the heart to tell her.
Instead, he leaned over and pecked her on the cheek. 'I'm going to catch some sleep,' he said quietly. 'If I can.' He stood, cast one last, resigned look at Marci, then left the common room.
Marci sighed and dithered with what remained of her drink. She didn't want to leave Mirana alone, even if she wasn't really alone, but nor did she want to leave Davion to dwell on his uncertain fate either. And she didn't want there to be too many regrets if any of them died during the battle.
She sighed again. This felt like the end of something. It could very well be the end of everything. She was afraid, so very afraid, but also resigned to the inevitable. In the end, she just wanted to get it all over with. At least when the battle began, it would be all she needed to focus on. None of this interminably horrible waiting, fretting, dwelling on all that happened and what might happen.
Some of them might die soon. They might all die soon.
Mirana nudged her. She did not say anything. She did not need to. She just smiled sadly, knowingly, and nodded once.
Marci gave her a hand a grateful squeeze, drained the last of her wine, pushed her chair out and strode from the room before she could have second thoughts.
If she was going to die tomorrow, then she knew where she wanted, needed, to be tonight.
Luna leaned on the stonework as she watched the Knights preparing below. No more sparring. Now they readied themselves for the defence of Dragon Keep. Men were outfitted with full armour, equipped with the best weapons they could find.
'You regret what you have done.'
Luna looked round as Purist approached. 'I thought you were praying.'
'I was.'
'And? Any insight? I don't suppose the Omniscience is going to tell Terrorblade to sod off and die?'
'That falls to us. Are you afraid?'
'A little. Maybe not as much as the others.' Luna shrugged. 'I'm a dead woman either way, Omniknight. Either I die in battle, or I get executed.'
'Mirana won't let them execute you.'
'She doesn't need me.'
'I disagree. But even if she does not, she's not ruthless.'
'Not like me.'
'You wish to atone.' Purist stated, as if that made all the difference in the world. 'I hope you get the chance, Luna.'
Luna sighed and lowered her head. 'You and me both, Purist.'
Bram wasn't sure of many things right now.
He wasn't sure how Davion had ended up in such a mess, or how he had ended up bringing that mess to Dragon Keep.
He wasn't sure how Auroth and Rylai could concentrate on whatever they were researching, not with a bunch of jumpy Dragon Knights watching over them.
And he wasn't even sure what he was looking for down here. Anything to take his mind off the battle, he supposed. Yes, that might explain why he was staring unseeing at the pages of A Layman's Guide to Farming. And he wasn't sure what this book was even doing in the archives of Dragon Keep. Since when did Dragon Knights farm anything?
'Oh, hello!'
Startled, Bram dropped the book on his foot.
'Sorry!' Caewyn darted forwards and retrieved the book as Bram leaned against the bookcase, massaging his foot. 'I didn't meant to startle you.'
'I'm fine,' Bram gingerly lowered his foot. 'I was miles away.'
'I didn't think you'd be interested in farming.' Caewyn remarked, peering at the book. From the way she held it, he guessed that she was long-sighted. He also took note of her eyes: soft, pearly grey. 'A secret hobby? I won't tell anybody!' she winked.
Bram wasn't sure what to make of Caewyn either. She was a tiny little thing, less than five feet tall, with a lively smile, hardly anything like her surrogate mother.
'You were Davion's squire, weren't you?'
'I was.' Bram confirmed, still taken aback by the petite elf.
'It must be nice to see him again.'
'Yes,' Bram rubbed the back of his neck. 'And surprising.'
Caewyn smiled. 'He mentioned you a few times. He thinks very highly of you.'
'Thanks,' Bram accepted awkwardly. 'I've heard a few things about you and Lady Eserren too.'
'Good things, I hope?'
'Erm… sometimes?'
'Oh well,' Caewyn shrugged. 'Some is better than none.' She put the book down. 'Great minds?'
'I thought there might be something useful down here. I don't think Auroth would appreciate us throwing books at the enemy.'
'I wouldn't!' Auroth called.
'Her hearing is excellent.' Rylai added.
'I don't think there are many books which would be helpful for this.' Caewyn peered at the rows of old tomes on the shelves. 'Hmm… how about this one?'
'How to Cook Dragon Steaks?'
'I didn't write that one.' Auroth interjected. 'And don't get any funny ideas.'
'Unless it's instant, I don't think that would help us either.' Bram said. 'Honestly, I don't think I'd be able to read right now.'
'You're scared?'
Bram flushed.
Caewyn was not mocking him though. She held up her hand, and Bram saw that it was shaking.
'Great minds.' Bram murmured, lifting his own shaky hand.
'Yeah, great minds fear alike.' Caewyn half-smiled. She noticed something on the shelf and gasped excitedly. 'Songs Upon The Breeze! I love the poems in this!'
'I wrote that!' Auroth called happily.
'We know!' Bram and Caewyn both replied at the same moment. When Caewyn looked at Bram, he blushed again.
'You like poetry too?' she asked, sounding hopeful.
'Erm… some. One or two,' Bram mumbled, remembering how a few of his fellow squires had mocked him for his interest in poetry. He sighed. 'Yes, I do like poetry. Especially Auroth's.'
'Thank you!' Auroth called.
Caewyn smiled. 'You have good taste, Bram. What say we read a few of these? Just to make things a little cheerier?'
Bram smiled and nodded. 'That sounds like a good idea, Caewyn.'
Caewyn beamed at him. 'Great minds think alike.'
Sleep? He could wish for it, but it wouldn't oblige.
Davion instead sat on the edge of the bed, dreading the coming battle.
So much rode upon his shoulders, on all of their shoulders. And he could not see how they would all make it out alive. Going to the Dragon Knights had seemed like the best thing they could do at the time, but…
The fact of the matter was that the Dragon Knights had never, ever fought such a battle before. They slew dragons. They had never fought an army before, especially not one like the horde Terrorblade was leading.
One-hundred thousand against maybe seven-thousand. Even if the Legions arrived soon, they would still be horribly outnumbered.
His only consolation was that the bulk of Terrorblade's army likely consisted of revenants, which were slow and clumsy. A single Dragon Knight could probably kill a dozen of them.
But Terrorblade had dragons too. And who knew what else?
At least if they did win, his friends would be allowed to walk away unharmed and unhindered. Even Marci would be permitted to leave, despite having killed Kaden.
It would hurt her. He knew that. But at least she would live, and she would heal, like she had done before. It hurt him just to think about losing her, in any way. But it had to be this way.
He had made the deal with his eyes open. Slyrak was in agreement. So long as Terrorblade was defeated, it did not matter what happened to them in the end. Death would end their union.
Davion sighed, stood and began to pace aimlessly about the small room. He had been sorely tempted to try to bring Marci here, to talk to her, to explain everything, maybe even to invite her to stay with him—it could be his last chance to tell her, or show her, how he felt about her. But he wasn't sure if that would make it worse in the end.
He heard the latch lift.
Davion paused and faced the door, wondering if one of the Fathers or a senior Dragon Knight was about to enter. Had Terrorblade arrived already? Jorsen was supposed to be watching the corridor, so…
He stared, both surprised and glad, as Marci closed the door behind her. Jorsen must have noticed her, he must have guessed why she was here, which meant that he was turning a blind eye and a deaf ear. Maybe he wasn't so bad after all.
Marci stepped closer, seemingly small and vulnerable. Yet there was no hesitation in her soft, warm eyes, the depths of which he could happily have lost himself.
She smiled, a little shyly, colour rising in her neck and cheeks. Even now, at what might be the eve of the end of all Creation, that smile warmed his spirit and lifted his heart.
He still thought it a shame that they had not met sooner, in better times. But she was here now, with him. Yes, it would hurt when they parted, yet he would go content to his fate, simply for having known her.
Marci stepped in closer still, her lips parting slightly, her breathing quickening. She reached out slowly and took his hands in hers. He did not stop her, he did not want to. If these were to be his last good moments in life, there was nobody else he would rather spend them with.
She looked up at him, straight into his eyes.
He wanted to tell her how glad he was to have met her.
He wanted to tell her how grateful he was to her for saving him so often, for holding on to even the slimmest hope that he could be saved.
He wanted to tell her how much he cared about her, how much she meant to him.
He wanted to tell her that he wished for her to be happy, more than anything else.
He wanted to tell her that he loved her.
He could not find the words. They were both silent. Marci did not need words. Tonight, neither did he.
Marci tilted her head, standing on tip-toes as she slowly closed her eyes. Davion moved to meet her lips with his, savouring the soft, tender touch and the sweetness which followed.
Still holding his hands, still kissing him, she led him to the bed, guiding him to sit with her. He did not resist. He did not want to. He needed this too.
She was warm to the touch, warmer as her kisses became more intense and passionate, guiding him down further, lying down next to him, holding him close.
They paused for just a moment, side-by-side, entwined, staring, their eyes reflections as they gazed at each other.
Marci smiled at him again. Her smile told him so much. He forgot his worries, Terrorblade, everything. Right now, it was just the two of them.
Just her. Just Marci. Right now, nothing else mattered but her. Only her. Only them.
He smiled back, hoping she knew what he wanted to say.
She moved in again, pressing her lips to his. They barely parted as they removed their clothes, gradually becoming more and more lost in each other, giving in to each other gladly, savouring every touch, every kiss, every breath, every moment together.
Tonight was for them. Even if the world ended tomorrow, they would at least know some happiness before the end.
Well... for the record, the last scene in this chapter is the sort I find really awkward to write. Many thanks to Annbe11 for lots of advice on this chapter. Next time, we move back into territory I'm more familiar with.
