Chapter Six

From Ashes

Before…

'Are you sure this is a good idea?'

'It's a risk I must take.' Ezalor answered, keeping his gaze fixed on the field of sharp rocky spines ahead. This new world was still forming. But there was life growing already. The dragons were beginning to take shape, the first as usual. But they were not here yet.

That did not mean that he was alone. Others had arrived over the last few decades, some of them heeding his call, others just by chance.

Valora shook her head. Even sitting, she was obviously much bigger than Ezalor. The head of her hammer alone was bigger than his torso.

They had their differences, but they were natural allies, if not family in a sense. She was the creation of his creations—his children. The Golden Lords may have long been lost, but she remained, and she still remained true to the Light.

Valora shook out her long flame-bright hair as she turned her head. 'What do you think, Icarus?'

The bird-like being at her side practically composed purely of light chirped softly. The Phoenix was the one who had revived Valora after the fall of the Golden Lords, after Io had defeated Valora.

Ezalor hated to be reminded of that. Another one of his many mistakes he had tried to forget. If only Nessaj had given him more time to educate his children, the ones who became the Golden Lords. If Nassaj had not interfered, they might not have become so determined to eradicate the darkness. Though they had apparently found a way, it had bought about their downfall. If anything, that had made everything worse. Io could have been a powerful ally, but it would never trust beings like Ezalor or Valora again.

Ezalor knew that there could be no light without darkness, neither literally nor metaphorically. The brightest lights cast the darkest shadows. Even if the Golden Lords had succeeded in their goals, there still would have been shadows they could not conquer. That was simply the way of things. But there were things he could deal with in order to ensure the survival of a better world. Not perfect, but better than all of those realities he had seen fail.

'Believe me,' Ezalor felt a tremor in the ground under his feet. 'I must take this chance. And the Worldsmith has as much interest in saving this world as we do.'

The tremors were growing more intense. Valora frowned and stood, lifting her hammer. Icarus squawked and beat his fiery wings.

'Steady yourselves,' Ezalor patted his horse's neck. 'Make no aggressive moves, not unless you must.'

'Not unless he tries to crush you.' Valora murmured.

Ezalor climbed onto his horse. 'Wait here. The Worldsmith and I have much to discuss.' He clicked his tongue. His horse obediently cantered down towards the spiky wasteland below. The tremors were becoming more intense.

As he rode down, he saw that some of the rock spikes had taken on different shapes. They had been carved into new forms, odd, alien, yet pleasant and artistic. The Worldsmith was experimenting with his materials, starting small before he moved on to newer, more ambitious projects. He had been drawn here much like Ezalor himself, drawn by the potential of a new world.

There he was, stooping over one of the spikes, carefully moulding it with his massive bludgeon, working delicately despite his huge form. He was even taller and broader than Valora.

Ezalor checked his mount, slowing down and observing the Elder Titan as he worked. He was perhaps the very last of his kind, amongst the first beings to wander the universe. He and Ezalor had crossed paths on occasion, even fought alongside each other, and a few times against one another, but this time Ezalor was determined to make an ally of him. He felt that in this, they had a common cause. Both of them wanted to fix their mistakes. Now was their chance.

The Elder Titan grunted as he stepped back from his work, his hooves shaking the ground. He was not subtle, just like the Earthshaker. He slowly turned his flat-nosed, horned head towards Ezalor, seemingly unfazed. He had perhaps known that Ezalor had been there all along, just wanting to finish his work before talking.

'Greetings, Elder Titan.' Ezalor called.

The Worldsmith grunted again. 'Keeper of the Light.' He looked towards another spire, no doubt wondering how he could shape that too. 'I know that the Dawnbreaker and the Phoenix are there too. I have no intention of fighting. Nor do I wish for a debate.'

This was how he solved problems. He did his best thinking when he shaped things. As he tried to find a way to fix his mistakes, and his own shattered soul, he would form mountains, carve out fjords, delve canyons—it was no wonder he got on well with Raigor Stonehoof. Perhaps they could call upon him too, he would no doubt be drawn here from Nishai by this new world, and the Elder Titan's work.

'I'm here to help this world.' Ezalor declared.

'I wish to fix all of Creation.' The Worldsmith stated dully. 'Not just one world.'

'One may be all we can save. One may be enough.'

'For you, Keeper. Not I.'

'We both have one chance to fix our mistakes, Elder Titan. This world may be our best chance, and perhaps our last chance.'

The Elder Titan gazed down at him, inscrutable, not even blinking. Ezalor gazed back, refusing to budge. His horse snorted and shook his mane, but did not back away either.

Finally, the Elder Titan huffed. 'Suppose I did agree to aid you, Keeper. What did you have in mind? What could you possibly do differently to ensure the prosperity of this world when we have failed so many others?'

Ezalor answered without hesitation. 'I have a plan, Worldsmith: we are going to build something together. It will take all of our skill and much of our power.

Together, you and I shall forge a weapon unlike any other in this universe.'

Now...

Marci had never been scared of heights. A good thing, since she and Mirana had lived close to the very top of the Rasolir Palace. In fact, it was often remarked that those who lived and worked in the palace were amongst the fittest in the Imperium, because of the many stairs they had to deal with.

Nevertheless, Marci was far from enjoying her current predicament.

She had fallen out of the gyrocopter a few hundred feet in the air. Or had she jumped? It had passed in a blur of madness and fear.

She had yanked the cord Aurel had told her to. Her parachute had leapt out and detached completely. For a few moments of near-complete panic, Marci had tumbled helplessly, nearly deafened by the wind rushing past, screaming silently and pointlessly before remembering the secondary parachute.

Luckily, that had actually worked. But Marci had no idea how to control a parachute, and she had drifted aimlessly, straight into a tree close to the riverbank. Now the evening found her dangling a good forty feet in the air, like an abandoned string-puppet.

Marci was still trembling. She'd been in danger a great many times, especially since that chance encounter in Barreltown. But leaping from a stricken gyrocopter was not something she had ever expected to have to do. She never wanted to do it again.

Of course, she might be falling again soon. Not that she wanted to. She might survive a fall from this height, but would probably break both her legs at the very least. She wasn't sure if unleashing would save her either, and she would only resort to that if she had no other choice.

This was a tree. She had climbed trees before.

Marci twisted in the harness, ignoring the burning in her shoulders, and saw a sturdy-looking branch close to her. She started to swing, building up momentum, until at last she could reach out and seize it, wrapping her legs around it.

Very carefully, Marci freed her right arm from the harness, took hold of the branch, then drew her left arm clear. The harness and parachute swung back, stuck in the foliage, as Marci scrambled onto the branch, practically hugging it. Marci exhaled, relieved, removed her goggles, then set about climbing down. That at least was not difficult.

Finally, Marci dropped the last five feet and landed on blessedly solid ground. She had no time to celebrate though. She could still see the smoke rising from where the gyrocopter had crashed, due south of the Vitrus, and Mirana had likely been taken into that compound she had seen earlier.

Marci considered her options. Obviously, she wanted to rescue Mirana. But her captors clearly wanted her alive and well, and she did not want to abandon Aurel. Besides, he might be able to help her, if he was still alive.

Sighing, Marci stepped off the bank and waded across the Vitrus. She was glad that it wasn't deep. After the attack on the fleet, she wanted to stay well clear of deep water for a while. Maybe forever. She certainly never wanted to see anything resembling a shark again.

After stubbing her toes a few times, Marci clambered onto the bank, and set off towards the rising smoke. It wasn't that far, so she started to jog. She wanted to find Aurel and get under cover as soon as possible, and maybe get a fire going. It was a risk she had to consider. There were plenty of anubi, vhoul, giant spiders, kobolds, hyenasaurs, hellbears, even zealot scarabs… she and Mirana had been exceptionally lucky when they had fled Rasolir. Shabarra had let the priorities of the legions shift after the Bloody Dance. Dragons might not have been as big a threat out here, but there was still plenty of danger. Mirana was going to have a lot to do when she took the throne.

Mirana… please hold on. I'll save you, I promise.

Finding the remains of the gyrocopter was not hard, even as the sun went down. It had left a trench behind, and torn through a number of trees on the way down. Now Marci made a mental note to watch out for warpines.

She quickened her pace, running alongside the furrow. She could hear something hissing now, not a snake—she hoped.

Marci finally found the fallen craft. It had come to rest against a boulder, and seeing it she was now very glad that she had jumped out. It was… the only word Marci could think of was crushed. If Aurel was in there, he was now pulp. The hissing sound was coming from one of the engines, which was belching smoke.

Marci grimaced and moved to examine the cockpit. She couldn't see any sign of Aurel, but the opening was now a slit narrower than the visor of a jousting helm.

Marci flexed her fingers, then took hold of the warped metal. Carefully, she began to peel it back, enough to see into the cockpit.

There was nothing inside. Marci breathed a sigh of relief. Aurel was still missing, but he might still be alive.

Marci stepped back and folded her arms, wondering. Aurel could be anywhere, but she doubted he would leave his precious gyrocopter unattended, even if it was wrecked.

Not all of it was ruined though. The flak turret looked relatively intact.

Marci peered at it, then leaned into the cupola and examined it more closely. It looked like it was fed by a belt of large metal tubes. What had Aurel called them? Shells?

Night was falling. The noise alone might scare off bigger predators, not to mention the fact that it made things explode.

Marci knocked out the pintle bolt and lifted the weapon clear, twisting the wire-frame sights into a crude grip. It wasn't that heavy, not for her anyway. She wasn't sure how she would fire with one paddle-grip missing. She could always throw the gun at anything hungry if she had to.

Moving awkwardly, more due to the gun's size than its weight, Marci set off into the deepening gloom.

Mirana normally took her time whenever she bathed. Old habits, maybe vanity, she supposed, and she liked to be clean. Marci had sometimes gotten a little impatient waiting for her to finish with the bath back in the Rasolir palace.

This time, Mirana barely spent any time in the bath. Just enough to get the dirt, sweat and blood off her skin and out of her hair. She wanted to get out of here, sooner rather than later.

Smelling faintly of citrus, Mirana went looking for her clothes, then realised that they were long gone. Aridin had probably had them destroyed.

'Princess Mirana?' the maid Aridin had assigned to her was waiting outside the door. 'Is everything to your satisfaction?'

No. I'm a prisoner and Marci isn't here. Mirana almost said that, but kept control. 'I need something to wear. Do you have any clothes for me?'

'Yes, Princess. Shall I assist you?'

Mirana frowned. She was no stranger to being dressed by a handmaid. But aside from her first handmaids, it had always been Marci. And during much of their time on the road, she had dressed herself. She hadn't wanted to be more of a burden on Marci.

Mirana sighed. 'Pass me the clothes, please. I'll take care of it myself.'

No doubt confused, but obedient, the maid opened the door a little and passed the clothes through to Mirana.

It was odd, Mirana mused. She had always felt comfortable letting Marci help her dress, even though she had later fallen in love with her. She supposed that it was because she trusted Marci so much.

And Mirana also realised that she was making a complete mess of this. Tunics and leggings were one thing. Fancy laced kirtles and overlays like this… another matter entirely.

Eventually, Mirana had to concede defeat. She was doing this all wrong. Her kirtle was maladjusted, her shift was sticking out, and the whole thing was sagging off her shoulders. She called the maid in to help her.

She was quick and efficient. Marci would never have let Mirana be late for anything, but she'd never been so businesslike.

Now dressed in the same pale blue as the sigil of House Nesrius, she followed the maid out and through to the solar. Night had fallen now. The chandelier and candles had been lit, illuminating a richly appointed room looking westwards, towards the sandy expanses of El'Harath and Misrule. Glittering on the table was her tiara.

Aridin was waiting for her. He bowed as soon as she entered. 'Princess, I am honoured to receive you.'

Mirana did not deign to reply. Instead, she stooped, picked up her tiara and set it in place.

'I have called for a light supper,' Aridin continued, seemingly not bothered by her behaviour. 'It's mostly seafood here, as I'm sure you can imagine.'

Mirana remained standing, grinding her teeth. Propriety demanded that Aridin remain standing until she took her seat.

'Princess, I would gladly make my home yours. Whatever you need is yours, you have but to ask.'

'Really?' Mirana arched an eyebrow. 'Then if I were to ask you to release me and my friends, would you do so?'

Aridin did not even hesitate. He'd anticipated that response. 'I would if I could, Princess, but sadly I cannot. You have seen the dangers outside these walls. Here, you are safe and protected, and that is how I intend to keep you.'

Mirana frowned. 'What do you mean by that?'

'Only what I said, Princess.'

He was lying, or at least omitting something.

Mirana's frown deepened. 'Stop pretending to be innocent, Aridin. Your thugs showed no restraint when they attacked the fleet. They killed Imperium citizens.' She paused, biting the inside of her cheek. 'My best friend… was left behind.'

'Your friend?' Aridin looked mildly concerned. 'I heard a rumour about a Dragon Knight in your company. I'm sorry my men weren't able to rescue him.' He did not sound sorry. In fact, there was a faint undercurrent of joy in his voice.

Mirana shook her head. 'No, he… he wasn't with us. I'm talking about Marci, my handmaiden.'

Aridin frowned a little now. 'Forgive me, Princess, but I thought you said that your friend was left behind.'

'Marci is my friend. My dearest friend.'

'But you said that she was your handmaiden.'

'She's that too.'

Aridin was silent for a moment. He'd been in the palace plenty of times before his exile. Surely he'd heard about Marci? Most people who had worked or lived in the palace had.

Mirana folded her arms. Aridin seemed to be having trouble comprehending that Marci, a lowborn servant, was Mirana's friend. Her opinion of him sank even lower.

Aridin was spared the need of a response by the arrival of supper. Oysters, Mirana noted with a grimace. She hated oysters. She also noted that he did not thank his servants, or even speak to them if he could avoid it. Her opinion sank even further.

'Please, join me,' Aridin requested, gesturing at the oysters. 'I hope you like wine from El'Harath.'

Mirana remained standing. 'I want to leave. With my friends. Now.'

'We've discussed this, Princess. Your safety is paramount.'

'I was perfectly safe before your mercenaries attacked.'

'They saved you from the levianths.'

Mirana rolled her eyes. 'I am many things, Aridin, but I am not a fool. Do not treat me as such. You know full well that we could have repelled them. I know what I am capable of. I know what my friends are capable of. I have faith in the Imperium's soldiers. We would have survived.'

'Perhaps, but Gondar told me that Claddish privateers were on their way, no doubt to take advantage of the chaos. Believe me, you are much better off here, with me.'

Mirana actually snarled. She was that frustrated. 'I am better off out of here, on my way to Rasolir, with my friends!' She sighed and lowered her gaze. 'And I need to find Marci.'

Aridin blinked. 'Princess, I am sorry,' he was not, 'but your servant is gone. I understand that you may have been attached to her. It sounds like she was loyal, a good trait in a handmaiden, but I have some suitable maids here who can replace her easily enough, you may choose whoever you wish.'

Mirana glowered at him, gritting her teeth. 'How dare you? No-one can replace her. And I refuse to believe that she is dead.'

Aridin was silent for a moment, gazing down at his oysters. Eventually, he picked one up, tipped it back and slurped it down. Mirana grimaced.

Aridin discarded the empty shell. 'I still have two pegagriffs here. Sadly I lost some to that rogue keenish contraption. But I can easily send the other two out at first light.'

Mirana frowned. Could she really trust him to do that? Probably not just out of the goodness of his heart. But he would not let her leave, and the fact of the matter was that pegagriff riders could probably find the site of the attack in hours. It would take longer for her to get there, even on horseback.

She sighed. 'Very well. Do that, and I'll… I'll send a reward once I have access to the treasuries.' The Senate probably wouldn't approve, but she considered it a small price to pay for finding Marci. She would have gladly given more, anything, there was no price she would not pay for Marci's sake. 'And the others?'

'Others?'

'Luna, Aiushtha and the soldiers your men took. And the other prisoners.' She had an uneasy feeling about how Aridin had found the money to buy Nivanese destriers and pegagriffs.

'The Scourge must be judged and sentenced for her crimes, Princess, I'm sure you understand.'

'Luna is my friend.'

'Did your friend tell you what she is? Luna isn't even her real name.'

'That doesn't matter. As far as I am concerned, she's more than redeemed herself. She saved my life. She helped to save the whole bloody world.' Mirana shook her head at Aridin's sceptical look. 'Aiushtha too.'

'Another one of your servant… friends?'

Mirana scowled. 'She's the cervitaur Gondar brought here. And there were others who were lost during the attack on the fleet. A Pangolier—one of the Nivanese Gallants—two lunar cats, and a great many Imperium soldiers, including a Legate. I want them found too if possible. Once their safety is assured, I will make sure you are rewarded. I will even have the Senate reconsider your exile.'

'I am honoured to serve, your highness.'

Mirana doubted that. 'I would like to see Luna and Aiushtha and make sure they are being treated well.'

'I'm afraid that won't be possible just now, Princess. Please, why not join me for supper?'

Mirana shook her head.

'I can have something else brought for you.'

'Not until I've seen Luna and Aiushtha.'

Aridin managed to suppress a sigh of irritation. Just. 'As you wish, Princess. Please, come with me.'

Mirana followed him out of the solar, keeping some distance between them. She also took note of the two guards who walked ahead of Aridin, and the two who fell into step behind her.

That made things harder, if not impossible. She was a prisoner in all but name.

If only Marci was here… but she was not. Mirana would have to make do, yet this just emphasised how reliant she was on Marci. If Marci was alive and they met again, Mirana was going to be even kinder to her, and much more grateful.

Mirana was led downstairs, along a well lit corridor with thick rugs. She noticed sigils of House Nesrius all over the place, and the various mercenaries and guards standing at their posts.

This place was pretty isolated, Mirana supposed. It probably made a tempting target for brigands.

She revised that idea a little when they stepped outside. Having a few guards to deter bandits was one thing, but Aridin had a sizeable force. Hardly a Legion, but large all the same. She wondered what had become of the skyships, and how Aridin had managed to steal them.

'That gyrocopter killed three of my pegagriffs.' Aridin complained. 'When the time comes, we should launch swift and brutal reprisals against the Mingin Accord.'

Mirana frowned. We? What did he mean by that?

As in most Imperium settlements, the gaol of House Nesrius was located underneath the guards' barracks. Though it was dwarfed by the house itself, and the temple, the barracks were pretty big.

The two men outside saluted and opened the doors for Aridin. Mirana followed him inside, noticing that there were enough cots on the ground floor for about thirty men. It was much more cramped than the Sun Guard barracks, and very plain. If the same could be said of the upper floor, Aridin had at least sixty, maybe eighty soldiers here, probably more. There might have been more, his personal guard, lodging in the house. There might even be a secondary barracks elsewhere.

'Down here, your highness.' Aridin led her down a flight of stone steps, into a dull chamber lit by torches fitted in sconces. The cells were small and unfurnished. They didn't even have blankets, just a bucket in the corner.

Placed in separate cells were Luna and Aiushtha. Both were secured to the walls by strong chains, with just enough movement to move a few feet and lie down on the floor, but they couldn't reach the bars. They had both been stripped of their clothes and given plain sackcloth shifts and, in Luna's case, breeches.

'As you can see, the prisoners are quite secure.' Aridin declared, as if he had done a good deed by locking up two of Mirana's friends in this place. 'Gondar very wisely suggested we thoroughly search the Scourge, given her reputation.'

Luna glared at him. 'Come closer. I don't need a weapon to kill you.'

'You will not be so defiant when your judgement is rendered, Scourge.'

'Aridin!' Mirana snapped. 'They're my friends.' Luna seemed taken aback, but Mirana continued regardless. 'Release them at once!'

'Princess, these brigands intended to hold you for ransom.'

Mirana seethed, seeming to literally swell with rage. 'You… how… Are you a complete idiot or are you really so deluded?'

Aridin blinked. It was hard to tell whether he really was deluded, but whatever he was, he was not a complete fool.

'Release my friends at once.' Mirana ordered. 'We're leaving. Now. We'll search for Marci ourselves.'

Aridin narrowed his eyes. 'Princess, it really is in your best interests to stay here, as my guest. It is most certainly in the best interests of your… associates.' He paused, his gaze now blatantly malicious. 'And it would certainly ensure that your missing handmaiden comes to no harm should she be found alive.'

Mirana blanched, momentarily lost for words.

'I take it that I am understood, Princess.'

Mirana shuddered. 'Is there no low to which you will not stoop?'

'You will thank me in time, Princess. I want what is best for the Imperium, as do you. Our desires will align.'

Mirana glared at him, disapproval and disbelief harshening her face. 'If you harm my friends—'

'They will be fed and will remain untouched if you stay as my guest.'

'You haven't fed them?'

'No meat for me, please.' Aiushtha piped up. She caught Luna's scowl and shrugged. 'I'm still hungry and we're not going anywhere.'

'Your friend understands.' Aridin observed. 'Now, let us return to the house, Princess. We can retire to the solar with drinks.'

Mirana scoffed and turned away. 'To the hells with you!'

Aridin shook his head. 'You are tired, Princess. Perhaps you should sleep. Come, let us return to the house. I'll have the maids see to your needs.'

Though his tone was light, and he could have passed for deluded once again, Mirana detected the undercurrent of malice in his voice. He would brook no argument.

Mirana sighed. Before allowing herself to be led out, she turned to Luna and Aiushtha. 'Please stay strong.'

Aiushtha folded her legs under her body. 'I miss the sky already. But I'll try.'

Luna remained standing, and she looked Mirana in the eye before nodding curtly. 'As you command, Princess.'

There was no mockery in her tone.

Mirana wanted to stay, but she had no doubt that Aridin would find some way to return her to the house, either with barely veiled threats or force.

If only Marci was here…

But she was not.

Gods, how she missed Marci!

As she started to climb the stairs, Luna called out to her in elvish. 'When we get out of here, let me kick this bastard in the teeth.'

Aridin looked confused. Evidently Luna's guess had been spot-on: Aridin did not speak elvish.

Mirana half-smiled grimly. At least Luna's spirit would not be so easily broken. 'You're first in line.'

Mirana was glad that Aridin did not attempt to talk more, or drag her along to supper. The less she saw of him, the better. Unless she was looking along the shaft of an arrow she was about to stick in him.

He'd given her a finely appointed room, and unsurprisingly the bedding and rugs were all in the pale blue of House Nesrius.

Mirana gravitated towards the balcony doors, and found them securely locked. The window latches were also locked, and she wouldn't do her friends much good by throwing herself out of a window two floors up.

She also knew that there were two guards right outside her door—the only door into the room, which she heard being locked as soon as she had stepped inside.

Mirana searched the drawers and wardrobes, just in case there was anything she could use as a weapon. But there was nothing, not even a hairpin. Aridin was perhaps smarter than she had expected, or someone else, probably Gondar, had thoroughly inspected the room. All that was present were clothes, mostly expensive and frilly dresses, most of them in that same pale blue.

Aridin's use of we kept bothering her, almost as much as his threats. Just what did he want from her? He was a disgraced Senator, he had been banished from Rasolir, the court, any settlement really, hence why he was out here. What could he possibly gain by taking her hostage?

Maybe he intended to force the Senate or Kashurra to reinstate him. He obviously had more than money on his mind, and it seemed that he had plenty of it.

We…

We…

"Our desires will align."

Our…

Mirana gasped. She knew what Aridin had in mind now, and why he had gone to the trouble of abducting her, why he had decided to keep Luna alive.

Aridin was going to bring her back to Rasolir himself, claiming to be her saviour. The people would hail him as a hero if he did, especially if he brought back the infamous, reviled Scourge of the Plains for judgement. No doubt he would use his newfound popularity and influence, and more threats towards Mirana, to ensure that any changes made in the future would benefit him.

Mirana seethed at the thought of Aridin being celebrated in spite of what he had done. The man was a traitor. He deserved to be treated as one.

And she had the horrible feeling that if his men found Marci, alive, he would gain more power over her. He wanted to control her by threatening her friends.

She had to escape. She had to!

But how? She couldn't abandon her friends. So long as Aridin held them, he possessed a dire advantage over her.

How could she save them and herself, alone, unarmed and so heavily guarded as she was?

Mirana sat down on the bed and held her face in her hands. For that question, she did not yet have an answer.

Aurel had never liked to abandon any of his stricken craft. He worked on them personally, striving to create the perfect gyrocopter.

But he couldn't do that if he died, so he had reluctantly jumped from the gyrocopter a couple of minutes after Marci. By then, the gyrocopter had carried him further away. He'd wanted to parachute out closer to the crash site, so that he could salvage what he could, launch a flare and hunker down until Kunkka and the rest of the landing party arrived.

Unlike Marci, he knew how to steer a parachute. But he had still been subject to the whims of the wind, and had drifted towards the cliffs before landing, and he had botched the landing, twisting his ankle.

Aurel had limped in the direction of the trees and found a broken branch he could use as a makeshift crutch. Pistol in hand, he had started to limp towards the crash site.

Unfortunately, he was a tempting target.

Aurel heard it before he saw it. Whatever it was, it was big. Really big.

Aurel turned and levelled his pistol. Experience had taught him that most animals hated loud noises and flashes of fire, not to mention the bullet which followed. Even a hellbear could be cowed by the sound of a handgun discharging.

But the second he laid eyes on his foe, he realised that his small pistol would probably just annoy it.

'Oh… shit...' Aurel breathed.

He stood rooted to the spot before the massive form looming up before him, a single point of sulphuric yellow light blooming in the darkness.