Today marks the anniversary of Ascension, which of course means a new update! I hope you all enjoy it.

Chapter Three

Landfall

Marci was cold. Cold and alone.

She thought she could hear Mirana's voice, far off, muffled like she was submerged under the waves again.

She didn't want to be here, alone, unable to breathe, suffocating in the darkness.

Marci tried to move, but she felt too weak. Helpless.

She struggled vainly in the darkness, feeling her strength ebb away. But she had to fight! She had to find Mirana. She had to!

Marci thought she saw light, somewhere above her. She felt compelled to reach it, and she fought harder, propelling herself towards it. As she drew closer, she thought she could make out a vague outline.

The light stabbed into her, and she was left blind for a moment. The golden light filled her eyes, like it did whenever she unleashed her power. Looming over her, the light awaited, calling to her, drawing her closer like a moth to the flame.

Marci reached out towards it... felt herself being lifted. She felt safer as it drew closer, pulling her into its warm embrace.

She was no longer trapped in an ocean of darkness. Now she felt warmer, and there was light around her. She started to become aware of her surroundings, familiar surroundings. A room she had known well, thin shafts of sunlight streaming through the gaps in the curtains. She could smell citrus and lavender.

She was… home. Rasolir. Her room in the palace.

Was Mirana calling to her? Did she need her?

Marci would have to go and see, but she couldn't hear her, and she felt warmer and more content, the familiar sheets soft against her bare skin.

There was something else there too, warmth close to her, against her. A familiar presence.

She smiled when she heard his voice in her ear, soft and mellow. 'I love you, Marci.'

Marci turned towards Davion and put her arms around him, pressing her lips against his, forgetting everything else as she wrapped her legs around his waist, wanting nothing more than to be with him.

'Awaken, Marci.'

She barely registered the voice. She could feel Davion around her, against her, within her, and she wanted this to last for as long as possible, maybe forever.

'Awaken. She needs you, Marci. They need you.'

But she wanted to stay with him. She needed to. She loved him.

Even as she longed to stay enfolded in Davion's arms, she thought she heard his voice in her ear.

'She needs you, Marci. You made a promise.'

Yes. She had.

Mirana needed her.

Marci extricated herself from Davion's arms and kicked back the bedsheets, swinging her legs out and planting her feet on the marble floor. In an instant, she was dressed in her servant's garb, standing in a long corridor. She could see a figure in the distance, far away. She could hear Mirana calling to her.

'It is time for me to ascend, Marci. Come to me. I need you.'

Marci started to walk, but the corridor seemed to extend, and Mirana moved further away into the light at the end. Marci started to run, slowly gaining ground even as Mirana continued to move further and further away. Marci whistled to her, the sound muted even as it echoed off the stone.

Slowly, Mirana turned, framed by the brilliant light at the end. She smiled, and extended her hand.

As Marci moved closer, still running, yet moving so slowly, she realised that the light was not issuing from outside. It was emanating from Mirana herself.

'It's all right, Marci. It's all right.' Mirana's whisper reached her, the words soothing as always. 'I'm here for you. I always will be.'

Marci reached out to take her hand. Her place was at her side. She would never abandon her, and Mirana would never leave her.

Never.

Never.

Not until death claimed her would Marci leave her.

Marci opened her eyes, momentarily lost and confused. She smelt salt, and heard the lapping of the waves against the hull of the ship, and the creaking of timbers and an odd whirring sound.

She remembered where she was: the Majestic Leviathan. She had been taken below and examined by a healer, an elf. At the healer's bidding, she had lain back on a narrow cot, waiting to be called back up on deck.

Somehow, despite her seasickness, she had fallen asleep. Now that she was awake, Marci felt queasy again, and the overwhelming need to find Mirana and her abducted friends drove Marci to move.

This was no time to be idle. Marci knew what she had to do.

She had made a promise. She was going to keep it. No matter what price she had to pay.

This was not the first time Luna had woken with a bruised head and an almighty headache. Usually, alcohol was involved.

Not this time.

'M'lor!' Luna groaned as she sat up, moving slowly, her head pounding like a blacksmith's anvil. 'Fuck me!'

'Don't tempt me, albino.'

Luna slowly turned her head and scowled at the speaker, a human in mail. 'Piss off.'

'Luna?' She recognised Mirana's voice and slowly turned again. The Luna of old had hated pity. It was just as well that she was trying to change, because her old self would have hated the wave of pity which bore down upon her.

Mirana looked wretched. Her eyes were swollen, red-rimmed and still moist with tears. Luna quickly examined her, as much as her throbbing head would allow. She did not seem to be injured. Her clothes were intact. All that was missing was her tiara. Still…

'Did they…' Luna hesitated, as if afraid of what she might hear. 'Did they hurt you?'

Mirana shook her head. 'That bounty hunter said they're not to touch us. He seems to be in charge. They knocked you out though.'

Luna raised her manacled hands and carefully probed the side of her head. Her fingers came away dry.

'Luna?' Aiushtha, forced to sit in the cage they now shared, held up three fingers. 'How many fingers am I holding up?'

'I thought you couldn't count.'

'Mirana can.'

Luna sighed. 'Five squillion.'

'She isn't holding up that many fingers.' Mirana scowled. 'And there's no such number as that.'

'Says who?'

Mirana groaned.

'You respond to your name, at least.' Aiushtha allowed.

'Yes, I am Luna. The screwed up goddess of drunkenness, wanton violence and whoring.'

'Luna!' Mirana chided.

'Never mind me,' Luna leaned forwards. 'What about you?'

Mirana's brow creased and fresh tears sparkled in her eyes. 'Marci… they just…' she shuddered. 'They left her to die. I… I just can't, Luna! I have to get out of here! I have to find her!'

'Easy!' Luna seized her shoulders before she could stand. 'Calm yourself. First, I need to know where here is. We're not flying now, right? Or did they knock half of my brains out?'

'They landed a few hours ago. You were unconscious for a few moments, but one of them used some sort of spell on us all, putting us to sleep. I don't think they wanted us to know where we were landing.' Aiushtha explained. 'I heard them saying that they can't risk flying out here, because they might get spotted by Imperium sphinx riders.' She frowned. 'What is a sphinx?'

'You've seen some before, at Dragon Keep. They're like lions, but with wings and feathers.' Luna answered as briefly as she could. 'They could still spot us. Any sign of Donte? Or Patrodis?'

Aiushtha shook her head sadly. 'No. I... we don't know what happened to them.'

Luna grimaced as she turned her head again, peering at their surroundings.

The ground was dry and parched, but there was still grass. They seemed to have stopped by a river, shielded by willow trees. There were other wagons bearing cages like their own. Between the bars, Luna espied captured Imperial sailors and soldiers, as well as other people and even animals.

There were Misrulians amongst the prisoners, recognisable due to their darker complexions and clan markings, as well as oglodi, elves and even a couple of centaurs.

Luna frowned at the animal cages, which contained a trio of lions, a pair of hellbears, a trio of wildwings, a juvenile thunderhide and, of all things, a magnoceros.

Luna shook her head. Magnoceroi were rare, and certainly not mere beasts. They were intelligent, and very dangerous if provoked. Ever since the eruption of Mount Joerlak, they had become unusual sights, many of them wiped out by the cataclysm, others hunted for their valuable horns—more precious than any alloy, even the ones favoured by the Dragon Knights.

The unfortunate magnoceros present had already had his horn removed, and looked hopelessly dejected. It was strange to find one out here. Luna supposed these slavers must have been using their skyships—no doubt stolen—to travel far and wide for victims.

Luna ground her teeth, then felt a lurch of guilt. She could hardly claim to be much better. She too had sold luckless souls into slavery when she had been the Scourge—those she had claimed were not worth killing. It had never been out of mercy. She'd had no mercy.

Luna sighed, turned away from the other victims, and leaned forwards to whisper. 'Do you see any flaws?'

Aiushtha shook her head. Mirana continued to looked dejected and woeful.

'Hey,' Luna reached over and awkwardly placed a hand on the Princess' knee. 'Marci wouldn't want us to give up, would she?'

Mirana sighed. 'Luna…'

'Look, we've all thought the worst has befallen her before, and she's always survived in spite of everything thrown at her. For all we know, she's looking for us now. I wouldn't be surprised if she turned up the next day and massacred these bastards.'

Mirana's lips twitched into a minute smile.

'Marci's strong,' Aiushtha added. 'And she'd give Death a good kicking just to stay by your side and protect you.'

Mirana wiped her eyes. 'She would. She would.' She sighed. 'You know… it's nice to hear you being positive, Luna.'

Luna shrugged. 'Maybe you and your friends are a positive influence.' She glanced out of the cage, peering into the sky. 'Gondar said he was going to take you to somebody. Somebody who'd pay well for you.'

'Shabarra.'

'Maybe.' Luna frowned up at the sun. 'What time is it?'

'Noon, I think.'

'If Gondar was taking you to him,' Luna's frown grew more severe, 'then we're going the wrong way. I think he's taking us west.'

'What's west of us?' Aiushtha asked.

'Misrule, Qaldin,' Mirana recited from memory, 'El'Harath, the Scintillant Waste… but I can't think of anybody in any of those places who would have a grudge against me.'

'Some of the lesser Misrulian clan chiefs might be interested.' Luna guessed. 'It would be a slap in the face for the Imperium, if they had to pay a ransom to get you back.'

'That would risk a war.' Mirana disagreed. 'And Gondar said his client would pay for me. I doubt he's going to wait for a ransom.'

'True. And the Imperium isn't keen on negotiating with kidnappers.' Luna said, poking holes in her own theory. Their usual response to her ransom demands had been to send soldiers. Lots of them.

She paused when she head footsteps, watching the mercenary approaching out of the corner of her eye. It wasn't the same guard as before, this one was a pangolier, solidly built, with a cross-shaped scar above his left eye. Not a Gallant. A Gallant wouldn't be caught dead in the company of slavers. Another mercenary, Luna guessed.

She also noticed that he seemed ill at ease. He was not happy, and not because he was on patrol with nothing better to do other than count his footsteps, or stare at the captives. It wasn't unusual for pangoliers to become mercenaries, but even the most cynical and greedy of them had some sort of morality.

This could be a good thing, Luna mused. He was outside of the cage, after all.

Luna memorised his face. Not difficult, he seemed to be the only pangolier here. She now stared at him overtly, trying to draw his gaze.

The pangolier noticed. Rather than glare at her, he smiled warmly, drawing Luna's attention to the stalk he was chewing on. He was wearing an old, battered breastplate and carrying a short spear. A falchion hung from his belt, next to a parrying dagger.

Unperturbed, he sauntered over. 'Need something, my dear? Bread? Fruit? Water?'

'Wine?'

'A tall order,' the pangolier chuckled. 'But I could try. Maybe I could tread some grapes for you?'

'No, thank you.' Luna grunted.

'Does he have any hazelnuts?' Aiushtha whispered hopefully.

'I believe I could find you some, my lady,' the pangolier winked at her.

Luna frowned at Aiushtha, who shrugged. 'What? If I'm stuck here, I might as well enjoy something. I don't want to die hungry.'

'I wouldn't allow that, my dear,' the pangolier assured her.

Mirana was trying very hard to not roll her eyes. Luna could guess what she was thinking. This mercenary was no Gallant, but he wasn't all that different from Donté. They'd probably get along famously, trying to woo women together.

Mirana mastered herself, perhaps guessing what Luna had in mind. 'Some water would be nice, please.'

'As you wish, your majesty.' There was no mockery in the way he said it, and he bowed to her. Luna watched him keenly as he sauntered off in search of water.

'What was that about?' Aiushtha whispered.

'Don't count your dracoturtles,' Luna murmured, 'but we may have just made a friend.'

Marci stepped out of the longboat, her queasiness starting to abate at last. According to the elven healer aboard the Majestic Leviathan, she would suffer no long term issues from her ordeal. She had been extremely lucky where her lungs were concerned. A few quick healing spells had been enough.

They had loaned her some spare clothing which more or less fit: a brown tunic, green jerkin and baggy grey breeches. She was still wearing her old boots. They were mostly intact, and they had nothing else which fit her small feet.

Kunkka had been more than a little surprised when she had only taken a dagger from the armoury. Donté had assured him that Marci had nothing against keenish or claddish craftsmanship, she simply preferred to fight unarmed.

Kunkka more than likely thought she was mad. She didn't care. She would likely have a chance to prove herself, but that did not matter. All she cared about now was saving her friends.

The landing party was disembarking. Most of them were keen, making up for their stature and lack of physical strength with firepower. The vast majority of them were armed with arquebuses, pistols and short swords. A couple of them were carrying odd looking handguns with wide, trumpet-like barrels. Donté had called them "blunderbusses". The name did not fill Marci with confidence.

Marci had learned about the keen from Kashurra, alongside Mirana. They had struggled to keep oglodi warbands from conquering their lands for centuries. They were little match for them in close combat, and they had no magic. But they were inventive, and generally very intelligent. The invention of the gun had given them a substantial advantage, and they had used technology to defeat their enemies ever since. But they were reluctant to share they inventions with others. They feared them being misused, or turned against their inventors. If the Red Mist figured out how to make guns of their own, they would likely conquer everything in their path. So they kept all but the most harmless of their inventions to themselves, and generally remained isolated and wary of others. The only exceptions were the Cladd Isles, whom they were allies to.

Marci sighed as she looked up at the cliffs, inhaling the warm salt-laden air and listening to the gulls wail overhead. She was reminded of her and Mirana's flight from the Imperium. Back then, she had doubted that she would ever be able to see her homeland again, much less return to it.

Marci looked down, then crouched and touched the sand, scooping up a handful of fine golden grains in her palm.

She was home.

No. Not home. Not yet. This would be a true homecoming when she and Mirana entered Rasolir. Together.

Marci stood up, her jaw clenched. She would find and save Mirana, or die trying. Simple as that.

Donté ambled to her side, getting used to the weight of the cutlass he had taken from the ship's armoury. 'I was hoping for a better homecoming for you too.'

Marci sighed sadly. At least she was not completely alone.

Once again, her hand found the dragon fang about her neck without conscious thought. She wished Davion could be here now. He would have known exactly what to say. He would have been as determined as she was to save their friends.

'We have an advantage now, Marci.' Donté assured her. 'We have the gyrocopter. They won't escape us.'

Kunkka chuckled as he approached, having overheard Donté. 'Aurel is eccentric, but he is good at what he does. We also have Rattletrap and his clockwerk armour.'

'Pardon?'

'You'll see.' Kunkka said. 'It's a match for those golems Stonehall builds, I can assure you of that.'

Marci looked over her shoulder at the landing party. Aurel's gyrocopter had been brought ashore, along with a wagon containing what appeared to be… junk. It made no sense to Marci. A small keen, smaller than most of the others, was bustling around, making marks on a scroll and muttering to himself.

Marci eyed the gyrocopter, wondering. The skies were relatively clear, and even if their quarry used the skyships, they would not be hard to find in the air. She whistled to get Kunkka's attention, pointed at the gyrocopter, then the sky, and mimed looking for something.

'If you're thinking of using the gyrocopter as a scout, that was the idea.' Kunkka confirmed. 'Aurel! Get ready for take-off. Take uh… Marci here as your spotter. She'll know what to look for.'

Marci's eyes widened. Travelling by sea was one thing. But flying? She knew the sphinx riders could do it easily enough, but Aurel's contraption wasn't a flying creature. And she had never flown before. She may have jumped on a dragon's back, but that had been… well, madness.

'You'll be fine, lass,' Aurel had obviously noticed her unease. 'This one hasn't crashed. Yet.'

Marci closed her eyes and tried to calm herself. If it helped her to find Mirana sooner rather than later, she'd take the risk. Besides, Aurel seemed to know what he was doing.

Aurel ambled around his craft, inspecting it. Finally, he nodded and jumped into the front, his baggy clothing rustling as he climbed in and lowered his goggles. 'Bundle up, lass, it'll be colder up above. And here,' he handed her a pair of goggles, simpler than his, with clear lenses. 'You'll need these.'

Donté pressed his cloak into Marci's hands. She nodded gratefully, then approached the gyrocopter.

'Oh, and give her a parachute.' Aurel called, prompting one of the keen to hurry off and return with what looked like a backpack. Marci stared at it, baffled.

'Put it on, lass.' Aurel instructed. 'If we run into trouble and have to bail out, pull that cord five seconds after leaving the 'copter. That should save your life. If it doesn't work, pull the little toggle on the other side. If that doesn't work… then it doesn't work.'

Marci gulped. She'd always hated the idea of being unable to save herself, or fight back against death. It was part of the reason why the thought of drowning scared her so much.

She shuddered. One thing was for certain, she would not be unhappy to stay away from the sea now.

Marci shrugged on the pack, then carefully climbed into the bowl-like compartment behind Aurel. Even though she was petite, it was a squeeze for her, and she sat with her knees almost level with her chest, squashed awkwardly with the parachute on her back.

'Buckle up.' Aurel told her. 'And hope the harness fits.'

Marci did her best. The belts were uncomfortably tight, pressing into her hips, stomach and breasts. She doubted that Aurel had built this thing with women in mind, or anybody taller than the average keen.

'Welcome to the future, lass.' Aurel announced cheerfully as he pulled and pushed levers, flicked switches and pressed buttons. 'You know, one day, I hope to build a bigger version of this 'copter. One which can carry dozens, maybe hundreds of people, through the sky. It'll be glorious! Might be a while though. Got to serve out my commission with the navy first. And of course, the prototypes take time to refine. Only took me… what? Ten years and three hundred attempts to make the first working prototype of this machine. Contact!'

Marci grimaced. The rotors mounted on the front and sides of the craft had started spinning, the latter two seemed uncomfortably close to Marci's head and she shrank back in her seat. She pulled the goggles over her eyes before the assault of displaced air dried them out, and to keep out the clouds of sand the rotors were kicking up. She decided then and there that she would only use one of Aurel's flying transports if she really had to. She already felt that she was better off with her feet on the ground.

She felt something move as she adjusted her position, and heard an odd clicking sound. There was a long object behind her, boxy at the back near her, with three tubes extending from it. Two vertical handles stuck out near her head.

'Don't touch that!' Aurel warned her. 'Not unless I tell you to.'

Marci guessed that it was a gun of some kind. Keen and their guns. Sitting this close to a weapon she didn't understand, capable of spewing fire and death with a simple pull of a trigger, only increased her misgivings.

Still, this did present their best chance of finding Mirana and the others. She would endure the gyrocopter, provided it didn't crash, or fall out of the sky, or explode and kill her and Aurel.

The gyrocopter rattled and shuddered as it began to lift off, kicking up sand around its rotors. Marci clung to the sides of the compartment, gritting her teeth. She realised that she was actually terrified.

She had never been scared of heights. She knew that. Living in the Rasolir palace with Mirana had proved that, it the was the tallest structure in the entire Imperium, and could be seen for miles around. But there, she had been on her feet and in control. Even a few hours ago, when she had been fighting for her life beneath the waves, she had possessed some semblance of control.

All she could do now was jump, and she wasn't sure of that either, not with the side rotors so close. They would probably slice her in half.

She felt her stomach drop as the gyrocopter took off, and she screwed her eyes shut. Aurel was actually enjoying himself, his cheerful humming obscured by the rattling, roaring rotors.

'Up and away!' Aurel declared happily as the craft finally stopped rising. 'Hey, lass? Huh. Guess flying's not for everybody. Need you to open your eyes though. You're supposed to be my spotter, remember?'

Marci carefully and slowly opened one eye, then the other. She gasped.

Now she thought she understood why Aurel had made this contraption, why he wanted to fly.

It was beautiful up here, and breathtaking to be defying gravity, to be in the sky, an expanse of soothing blue and swirls of cloud as far as the eye could see. Even the rotors had quietened. She could see so much now, her homeland far below.

To the west, the vast deserts of Misrule glittered in the sunlight. Further still lay El'Harath and Qaldin, and the diamond sands of the Scintillant Wastes. To the east of the Imperium lurked jealous Stonehall, ensconced within the looming, dark peaks of the Bulwark Mountains. Even from this far away, she thought she could see a plume of black smoke, marking the remains of Mount Joerlak. And south, she could make out the distant silhouettes of the Sovereign Peaks, knowing that beyond them lay the Keening Canyons.

Marci continued to gaze southwards, and felt her heart ache with longing.

She could just about see it, a vast city, contained within a circular wall, mighty towers extending at even points in the circle, protrusions jutting from them to make it into a sunburst. She could even make out the great doors of the Sunrise Gates. The buildings within the walls were indistinct, but she could make out the roofs of temples and the ring of the colosseum, and the circles of the inner walls. Roads and thoroughfares would wind between them, alongside canals and aqueducts. She could make out the Causeway leading to the outer wall.

Above it all, she could see the familiar, vaguely pyramidal shape of the palace, towering over everything else.

Home.

Marci sighed, her fingers relaxing, unaware that she had slightly bent the metal with her desperate grasp.

'It's quite something, isn't it?' Aurel remarked, his long, bushy moustache billowing in the wind. 'Got a job to do though. Now, those slavers won't be heading into Imperium territory. They'd be spotted by your lot, and probably forced to land or brought down. They might not have used the Helios Sentinels for a while, but I bet they still work.'

Marci peered out again, wondering whether she could spot one. But the Helios Sentinels of old were mostly located along the borders, and it was probably best if they avoided them.

'Here,' Aurel held out a boxy object. Marci took it uncertainly, noticing how it was lined with dials and buttons, with lenses on both ends. She looked at Aurel, whistled and raised an eyebrow.

'It's like a spyglass. Use those dials to adjust the view.'

Marci put the box against her goggles. Everything seemed small and far off, and adjusting the dials didn't help.

'Other way around, lass.'

Marci turned the box around. He wasn't wrong, it was a bit like a spyglass. Though with all things keenish, it was both more sophisticated and more complicated. Keenish symbols, which she couldn't read, kept appearing seemingly at random on the lenses, and the ground was much too close. She fiddled with the dials until she could see more clearly.

Better than a spyglass, she thought, zooming in on a small herd of thunderhides ambling across the plains below. They looked up as the gyrocopter passed overhead, its engines a distant throbbing to them.

Marci kept scanning the plains and the sky, looking for any signs of the skyships or a caravan. The latter would be harder to spot, but slower.

She frowned, lowering the box. Their attackers had possessed great firepower in the skyships, but according to Kunkka, they were held aloft by bladders full of air. Even though they were sheathed in metal, it was a relatively thin alloy. Sphinx riders could bring them down, especially since they would be faster, more agile and more manoeuvrable.

Even with all the recent trouble, and a regent she didn't know personally in charge of the Imperium, Kashurra was apparently still the Viceroy. He was smart. He would ensure that patrols kept an eye on the borders, that included sphinxes. Skyships would stand out easily here, like green drakes in a desert.

If they had an ounce of logic, and Marci guessed that they did, they would go on foot, probably with wagons. A wagon train was not an unusual sight out here, something a sphinx rider, eager to get his patrol duty over with, could understandably and easily overlook.

They had logic. Why else would they have used skyships against the Imperial fleet? They had known that they wouldn't be able to easily counter them. Maybe they hadn't organised or expected the levianth attack, but had been able to take advantage of it and scoop up their prey easily enough.

And even before that, they had apparently stolen the four keenish skyships from their docking cradles back at the Aerial Enterprises Academy. Four skyships, stolen in keenish territory. Whoever these people were, they were audacious, skilled and probably well financed. Not average slavers.

With all this in mind, Marci kept scanning the ground. She would leave the sky to Aurel.

Surely they couldn't have gotten far.

'Hope we find them soon, lass.' Aurel called. 'We've only got two hours of flight before we need to refuel. I have fuel aboard, enough for eight hours total, but we can't stray too far from our pals below. And if we press too far, we might attract attention.'

A fair point. The Imperium might be interested to know why a gyrocopter was flying around in its territory.

If they did run into sphinx riders, they would just have to hope that they asked questions before they tried to bring them down. She didn't want to test this parachute at all if she could help it.

Davion winced as he pulled another loose scale from his arm. Caewyn was shivering next to him.

They had been forced to take shelter in a cave, little more than a fissure in the side of the mountain. The dragon was still prowling, and the blizzard had intensified. If they risked moving now, they would probably be blown off the cliff. Auroth and Rylai could ward off the cold, but the rest of them could not.

Poor Caewyn was shivering next to him. Eserren and Auroth were watching the entrance, where Rylai had created an icy barrier. The ionic dragon was too close, and they couldn't fight it here.

Auroth lifted her arms, winced, sighed and lowered them again. She might be able to fly, but not well. Probably not well enough to take on a dragon. She knew some healing magics, but Aiushtha had better mending spells.

Bram settled down next to Caewyn and draped his cloak around her shoulders. Caewyn smiled and nodded shakily. She lifted the cloak and put it around Bram's back too, squeezing in closer so they could share it. Davion noticed the flush on Bram's face as Caewyn rested her head against his shoulder.

Davion glanced at Eserren. So far, she had shown no signs that she was aware of Bram's attraction to Caewyn. She had to know though.

Right now, that wasn't an issue. Everything else was.

Auroth strayed from the entrance and sat opposite Davion, unconcerned by the cold stone against her back. She noticed the bloody scale on the ground next to him. 'Any better?'

'Worse.' He kept finding loose scales sticking out of his skin every time he awoke now. Plucking them out had become a daily chore. Slyrak was barely communicating, mostly because he was trying to keep the change from overwhelming Davion.

He was also becoming harder to understand, because he was dying.

Davion sighed. 'Auroth?'

'Hmm?'

'What exactly is the Madness?'

Auroth regarded him curiously. Eserren half turned her head, obviously listening.

Finally, Auroth leaned forwards a little. 'Most dragons are little more than beasts, practically mindless. But we are creatures of purpose. We need a reason to exist.'

'Most dragons are potential vessels for the Eldwurms,' Eserren recalled, 'guided by the Thunder.'

'Yes. But they also have the potential to be more than that. A dragon is a vessel capable of containing some of the universe's most powerful beings. Though they may seem like mere animalistic creatures, they are intelligent, they can learn, adapt, think.

For some, it goes further. As dragons age, they become more likely to suffer from what you call the "Madness". What happens is that such dragons become aware. They begin to think like you or I, they become sentient, they become individuals. But that's only if they overcome the Madness.'

'They become an Eldwurm?' Caewyn exclaimed.

Auroth shook her head. 'No. Most dragons, even if they regain their sanity, lack a soul. I'm an exception, because I am the daughter of two Eldwurms. My children likewise have their own souls. But we are not "pure" dragons. We cannot act as hosts to Eldwurms, partially because of our souls, but also because our bodies are not suitable.

When the Madness afflicts a dragon, they become suddenly aware of what they are and what they could be. Their bestial instincts war with the growing sentience within. Often, it's too much for them. They remain insane, driven to suppress their newfound awareness with violence. It's like they need to kill the rational and logical sides out of themselves.

I've… been there. When the Madness struck me. Having a soul didn't make me as I am now.' Auroth shuddered. 'It's like I was a captive in my own body, a prisoner in my own mind. I was aware of everything around me, everything I did, but I was practically powerless to stop it.

But if a dragon overcomes the Madness, as I did, they become more than what they were. They're aware, capable of reason, intelligent.'

Eserren was clearly intrigued. 'Is there a way to stop the Madness?'

Auroth shook her head. 'Short of killing dragons as wyrmlings, no.'

'You misunderstand me,' Eserren stated. 'I was asking if there's a way to…' she considered, trying to pick the right word. 'Cure it. To make more dragons as you are.'

Auroth raised her eyebrows. 'You'd want that?'

'We all know that dragons are a part of this world, that we need them as much as the Eldwurms. But people fear what they do not understand, and they fear that which is a danger to them. Most of the dragons I slew were suffering from the Madness. The same goes for a great many Dragon Knights.' She paused, her gaze fixed on Auroth. 'Suppose we could ease the transition for any dragon? If more dragons were capable of understanding logic and reason, perhaps there would be a chance for peace between us, or at least understanding.'

Auroth smiled sadly at her. 'You are a marvel, Knight Commander Eserren. If only there had been more Dragon Knights like you in times past.' She shook her head. 'There is no easy way to overcome the Madness, I am afraid. I did find something which helped me, which I believe can help Davion, but I cannot guarantee that it would work on every dragon. I don't know if it will work for you, Davion, but it might be your best chance.'

'She is right, Davion.' Slyrak rumbled. 'Even when I allow myself to end, you cannot hope to contain the power of the Eldwurms, not without my help. Without me, you will be overwhelmed. But I believe that Auroth and her stone can help you.'

'Stone?' Davion murmured aloud.

'What?' Bram frowned.

'I know of what she intends,' Slyrak continued. 'To expose you briefly to the power of a Radiantstone—the opposite of the Direstone. It is not without risk, but it saved her from Madness. It may be enough to save you too.'

'You're sure of this?' Davion asked. Auroth noticed the confusion and mouthed Slyrak at the others.

'You deserve a chance to live, Davion. And I know that Marci would want you to try. If nothing else, it is worth taking the chance for her sake.'

Davion sighed. Even though it means…

'I am old, Davion. Immortality is… tiring. This is my decision, and it is final. I knew that there would be consequences for my actions. But it was worth the cost. Let that be a consolation for my passing if you will.'

Davion looked up at Auroth. 'He mentioned a Radiantstone.'

Auroth nodded. 'That is what helped me to overcome my Madness. The one I found, the one I am taking you to, helped me to find clarity. It allowed my newfound sentience to reach the fore. But though Radiantstones are the opposite of Direstones, they can still be dangerous.'

'Isn't Marci connected to them?' Bram asked.

'Not exactly, though she would likely have an affinity with them because of her blood.' Auroth answered. 'There was a mistranslation, long ago, and certain terms were mixed up. What you call "radiant dragons" should actually be called "luminous dragons", or "light dragons". So, technically, Marci is a luminous or light wurm-forged.' She shrugged. 'An easy mistake to make, I suppose, when translating a dead language.'

'The storm is abating, Auroth.' Rylai announced. 'We should move before that dragon returns.'

'Yes,' Auroth agreed. 'We still have a long journey ahead of us.'

Davion picked up his sword as he stood. He was willing to take the risk of exposure to a Radiantstone. He trusted Slyrak now. There was no more enmity or deception between them.

And Davion too had made a promise. He intended to keep it.

My thanks to WhereverMySITakesMe for letting me borrow the term "squillion" for Luna. My thanks also go to Annbe11 and one of my friends for helping me to settle some doubts. Ambition in creating stories is both a strength and a weakness of mine. I want this to at least be good, as subjective a term as that is.

Feedback would be most welcome at this point. If I wasn't far away from the canon plot before, I most certainly am now.