The Wandering Inn

Book 9: Chapter 6

Hail.

A simple greeting yet, as with everything of their kind, the nuance had layers of history behind it.

Meaning that even they had forgotten.

Hail. The other Dragons spread their wings, answering the brief comment with motion, not words. He folded his own wings as he landed. A gesture of peace among allies, however contentious their pasts. When he opened those wings againeverything burned.

Hail, Teriarch.

It was not the largest among them that greeted him. Size did not equal strength among Dragons. True potency of spirit, true danger came from the quality of scale and fang. The intensity of their eyes and breath.

Even that could fool. Many of his kind had fallen to foes who did not signal their strength. Yet the Lord of Flame nodded back to his equal among this company.

This last gathering of Dragonlords.

Khetieve-Xool.

His name was longer. Just like hail, their language was economical. A sign of the times. In the past, they would have had flowery phrases, elaborate ways to signal meaning and respect. The way you adorned your scales. The flick of a tail, almost reminiscent of Goblin language. Subvocalizations.

Not now. Not here. Hail was a word with the oldest meaning. It was a universal greeting. Many cultures had adopted it, but the Dragonlord of Flame did not know the nation that had first adopted it. Perhapsno species that had first drawn breath on this world had.

Perhaps it came from beyond, from travellers and knowledge older than the worlds soul. A simple world. Like Khetieves name.

The Dragonlord of Waters belonged in the sea. Everything about him was adapted for speed underwater; his neck bore no mane but fins. He had gills and lungs, and even his talons were different. They were serrated, to cut a foe and leave them bleeding.

His teethwhen he spokeshifted slightly. Even now, they unsettled Teriarch, and they were long acquaintances.

Not teeth, but a kind of melding between hair and bone. Like ivory which could adapt, from tearing fangs to baleen-like structures from the mouths of whales that filtered simple algae.

Water Dragonshow much of the world knew themwere not carnivorous by nature. Typical Dragons of air and land were omnivores, but they preferred meat. Most Dragons who had evolved in the water did not hunt even by nature or inclination.

Yet Khetieve was fiercest of his kind. Far more deadly than any Dragon born in the modern ages. That was why he had survived.

He was long weary of war. The Dragonlord of Flame waited for Khetieve to reconfigure his mouth to form words as precisely as he wished. The Dragonlord of Water had perfect diction, even for his kind.

Khetieve will do. Xool is no longer mine, even in name. I relinquished it. The Iron Vanguard has claimed it.

You did not contest them?

Perhaps that was an insult if he had been driven off. However, the Dragonlord simply spatsuch a disgusting gesture from an elegant personage. Yet it was how his kind expressed themselves in water.

We need it not. The Seatouched will leave land be. I hear the Dullahans even kept the name. May they keep their cities and rot.

His tone was no less bitter, despite the light way he spoke. He could have cursed them with language so powerful a [Witch] would struggle to match him with spells. Yet he was resigned.

This era is breaking down. Will we ever reconvene here, I wonder?

A Dragonlord with feathers, not scales, spoke as the two oldest Dragons exchanged words. Another timeTeriarch might have snarled at her, in pride, for there was an order here.

Hierarchy was dead. Dragons were dead. The Dragonthrones seats lay emptythe others had come for battle.

Some wore armor. One carried a glowing spear, which floated around him, dancing with disintegration. Some, like Khetieve, trusted only to their abilities.

Teriarchs armor was blasted in places. The truegold corroded. Green smoke still rose from the metal. He broke off from his light conversation. Nodded.

Whatever happens next, the Dragonthrone will be used. This is the last beach. The mortals have drawn back. Whomsoever chooses to leave

Do not offer us three times, Terrium.

A hissing retort from a Wyvern, her scales dark like shadows. Teriarch glanced at her and, for a moment, wished the last Dragonlord who could join them in this stand were here.

Dragonlord of War. But she fought seldom with allies of their kind.

In the days to comethe last three Dragonlords to survive would be he, Khetieve, and the absent Dragonlord. The others would not die here. Not all of them.

Only three would survive the following eras. When the Creler Wars began, they would not gather here. It would be a mockery, three in a Dragonthrone meant for dozens of Dragonlords and hundreds below them.

He did not know it, but he knew it. Teriarch exhaled and nodded, and the Dragonlords walked across the throne, towards the boundary where this reality merged with the next. Proudly, heads held high, lungs filled with magic.

I am weary.

The Dragonlord of Flames spoke as he walked. His head emerged from the Dragonthrone, and he saw a beach, torn by smoking craters of acid. Dead mortals, who had fought next to titans.

Weary. Let us end this. Mortals need not join this. Whatever comes of this momentwe shall settle this long war here.

The Dragonthrone shone behind him. A visiona physical presence that divided the sand and water. A gateway into one of the greatest treasures of Dragons.

The mortals were watching from their ships. Harpies, flying cover over half-Elves and the loyal Drakes. Gnoll adventurers and Drowned Folk and more.

Watching.

He was not just speaking to his kin. The Dragonlords claws crunched on sand turned to glass. Chandrars green landscape stretched out before him, and the Dragonlords began to count.

They were outnumbered. Six-to-one. Twelve Dragons and one Wyvern spread out, facing the twisting figures that turned from their feeding upon carrion on the beach.

Yet these were no monsters. No thoughtless foes. They were princes and princesses. Andmaking the Dragons seem as children before true giants

The Great Wyrms of Chandrar. The Dragonlords halted, and Teriarch spoke. To his cousins as they laughed and mocked him, as three continents armies fled in defeat. In that fragile moment of overconfidence where they gathered against their overwhelmed foe for the greatest of prizes.

They were vulnerable. All it would take was resolve. A battle with no quarter. A simple trick.

Seal the Dragonthrone once a third pass into it.

Khetieves mental voice was so quiet even the Wyrms wouldnt hear. The Dragonlord of Skies answered him with a single flap of her wings. There was nothing left to do now. So Teriarch, the Dragonlord of Flames, dipped his head once as he met the Wyrms upon the sands.

Hail, cousins.

It took but a moment. Then he was descending. And his body felt far heavier, his wings less sure, and he wore no armor and flew with no one at his side.

That was how memory worked. One second to see that particular shade of scales. Jade green, a pale underbelly like a riverbed shining bright under a path of grass.

Green eyes, green scales, not mismatched like so many Dragons. A different kind of green within, though, like the wilds of a world inside, an overgrown landscape. Capable of wisdom and intellect.

All the Brass Dragon remembered in those familiar eyesand he had seen thousandswas wrath. Contempt. Greed.

One look and he knew who had spawned the last Wyrm he had ever thought to meet. A name rose to his lips.

Zessoprica.

A single Wyrm cunning enough to let the Great Wyrms charge before her. Wise enough to fall back at their disastrous defeat.

The last Great Wyrm of this world. Or so Teriarch had thought. Another lay before him, his body undulating with threat.

He wasnt even young. This Wyrm wasif not the largest that Teriarch had ever seen, one in his prime. No Wyrm could reach that size in two thousand years.

He also had magical trainingTeriarch detected a dozen quick pulses, as adept as anything he could have conjured. It caught him off-guard, but the Wyrm probably found nothing more than the residue of teleportation and a few ward spells.

Who taught this Wyrm magic? He was unsettlingly good. If Teriarch had engaged in a battle of spellcraft, he might havewell, it would have become a contest of magical depth as much as finesse.

In that sense, the Dragon was at a disadvantage. He did not understand why Rhisveris eyes narrowed so dangerously or why he swept past Teriarchs own magical wards.

It was as if theyd met before. Or at least, some version of Teriarch had. The Dragon tried to adjust his pace.

He was walking forwards like he was preparing for battle. Calmhe lowered his head slightly, attempted to smile.

However, he felt like he was walking upon older battlefields. His wounds ached.

Was this why hed been called back? Noand no again. Humility.

The Dragon had taken a measure of Ailendamus as he flew in. A new Terandrian kingdom with merely two hundred years of backing? Hedidnt recall it.

But he didnt remember anything in the last century, only bare fragments. It was conceivable he hadnt paid attention or noticed, but in hindsight, the sudden rise to power was obvious.

No matter where he looked, he saw immortals. They had signaled him away from the capital, towards what looked like a former battlefield. Recent; it must have been the site of the last conflict between the Dawn Concordat and Ailendamus.

More and more elements made sense as the Dragon glanced left and saw a line of wary figures stalking him. Dignifiedthey had the whiff of fire, but there was more darkness about them. Even without that or the other telltale features, like the teeth, horns, and tails he could spot through their illusions, there was no mistaking their kind.

The Lucifen. Wonderful. And Agelum. When did they make peace?

That made him rethink his decisionagain. Lucifen ruling a nation seldom turned out well. Then he reminded himself he wasnt coming to dictate anything.

The Merfolk put him exactly in the opposite direction. Teriarch blinked at them. He hadnt expected to see

A Griffin was flying around him as the Dragon walked forwards. He heard whisper-spells telling her to back away. She was challenging him, but she was barely a sixth his size; a child.

It was conceivable she had been born in Kaliv or another Griffin territory. If there were no others, she was a wild royal.

Was the Wyrm kidnapping children from other lands?

Peace. Peace. Teriarch had steeled his will against whatever he might see. However heinouswait first, then act.

He could ill-afford battle. Especially here, but the world had greater issues before it, and he had no allies. Noneunless a Walled City he had no knowledge of in its current form counted. Or

The [Maid] claimed he had one of the Five Families on his side. It sounded too ludicrous to be a lie, even if shed managed the Skills. However, he was wary of whatever that had looked like.

Reinharts. A Walled City. A Wyrm-led coalition of the immortalis. Not ideal allies. And he had so many foes to contend with.

The dead rulers. Seamwalkers. The ill-fated Necromancer he vaguely remembered. And the Antinium.

He had been asleep too long. Even his note-spells, such as they were, seemed to indicate he had been in contact with this Magnolia Reinhart less and less.

A mortal weariness in my bones. I couldnt even fly to First Landing. 

Who in their right minds had chosen him as the ghost to bring back and lay the burdens of the world upon? Anyone else! That high-and-mighty Xarkouth, Saracandre, even Yderigrisel! If there was any Dragon who would relish a nigh-impossible quest against some horrific foe

All gone. How did a Dragon mourn? Teriarch had not done it yet. He had awoken in despair and duty and come here first, after seeing all that had passed. He walked towards the Wyrm until he stared up at the giant serpent, coiled upon himself as if to strike.

Already, the negotiations were not going well. The Wyrm was not even hiding his killing intent. He was, like a snake, ready to shoot forwards.

The silence thickened as the immortals surrounded him in a semi-circle. Some looked patently disbelieving. Otherswary. Why did he see fear in so many eyes?

What did my shadow do? Another stab of guilt, but the Dragon did his best.

He opened his mouth, and his pre-prepared speech came to his lips. As before, so again.

Hail, Cousin. Hail, descendant of Zessoprica. Hail, Great Wyrm of Ailendamus. I greet thee aswait. Where did you get that?

The narrow-eyed Wyrm was baring his fangs, venom-acid dripping from his furious maw, when the Brass Dragon suddenly turned, fixed Culnous, the leader of the Merfolk, with an incredulous stare, and pointed one claw.

The old Merfolk raised the trident instantly, and a globe of pale, pinkish water enveloped the Merfolk. They backed up, and half the immortals tensed, but Teriarch was staring at the trident.

Thats Khetieves Warden Trident. Youre Merfolk under his protection. What happened to him?

Culnous froze, eyes opened wide, but then, at the name of the Dragonlord of Waves, blurted a reply.

You know the missing guardian? No one has seen him since the Creler Wars! The sanctuaries were abandoned. This is his relic.

Havent seen him since theis he dead? He shouldnt be. He was only woundedvery badly, but he cannot be dead.

The Dragon was horrified. Culnous looked at another of his people, and she called out.

No one saw him. He retreated below where even we can swimbut then, an earthquake shook the entire sea floor. He never returned.

He wouldnt have been buried. Even wounded, he could call for help. Wait. Earthquakeswas that when those idiotic [Archmages] tried to sink Rhir and it backfired?

Wedont know. Only four of the Oldest were alive, then. With his passing, the monsters grew bolder and bolder. We had to flee our sanctuaries after the second Kraken attack. And after thatour tridents

Rhisveri opened and closed his mouth in the way of someone who really, really wanted to interrupt the conversation with an expletive or pure violencebut who was also aware he had no opening and was intrigued despite himself.

Teriarch had completely forgotten the Wyrm for a moment.

He cant be dead. He was so badly wounded, yes, a lesser Dragon would have succumbed. Those damn Crelers ate his first heart. But he was going to live. He wasthe Warden Tridents are nearly out of power. He didnt tell you how to recharge them?

Theyre rechargeable?

Culnous almost dropped the trident he was holding. Teriarch closed his eyes for a moment.

Khetieve. He always did favor rechargeability over permanence in artifacts to let him squeeze in more useless enchantments. Didnt you have a Moontide leypool?

The Crelers

Oh. Oh no. I see. They would have attacked that first. What a compounded disaster. The tridents naturally recharge on ambient mana, but to bring them to full strength, Khetieve probably made them artistically annoying. They only gather mana actively under the full moon or underwater or what not. I can take a look after this and

Teriarchs mouth kept moving, but suddenly the Dragons scales rippled as if he shivered slightly. His right eye swiveled over to the Wyrm, and his voice adopted a slightly stilted quality, as of someone who realized hed gotten way, way off topic.

naturally, the last Dragonlord of Waves fate is one of my deepest concerns. He was practically like a brother to me. It overwhelms my sense of propriety, which is why I greet this gathering of the immortalis with even more profound respect. For you harbor those under my kins protection. Hail, Cousin. I thank you twice, then, for your gracious role as protector.

He swiveled the rest of him back to Rhisveri, and the Wyrms glower practically reflected itself in Teriarchs huge smile with all his teeth. As pivots wentwell.

Ryoka had seen worse.

She wasnt standing next to the immortals. For one thing, Rhisveri didnt trust her. For another, Visophecin himself didnt trust her.

She was a bargaining chip, so they left her with the younger immortals like Paxere and the young Merfolk. They were watching via scrying spell, and Ryoka was about to pee herself with nerves.

It was him. And yetit wasnt quite him.

The distraction from the main topic? Entirely Teriarch. Yet she felt like he was still a bitoff. He was sowell.

Humble. She had never, ever, seen Teriarch do anything like bow to someone, and even the head-bob he did was entirely awkward. But aside from that, he looked like she remembered. He didnt sound like Eldavinwrong from the first words out of his mouth.

Her heart was squeezing itself against her ribs, and Ryoka squeezed so tightly she heard a bah. Then the Sariant Lamb bit her.

The Wind Runner loosened her grip, and the lamb glared up at her, but even it was watching the moment. Azemith kept glancing at Ryoka.

Its a Dragon. A Gold Dragon?

No. More likebrass. A Brass Dragon? Does that mean its weaker?

The other Lucifen were debating. Ryoka turned and stared.

Weaker?

Gold surely beats brass in terms of metallics. Let me seeyes, Brass Dragons. No such thing as bronze. Silver, Goldno Platinum. Perhaps were dealing with a weaker variant of the kind?

Weaker? His simulacrum nearly stormed Ailendamus!

Paxeres eyes gleamed with triumph. Ryokas were filled with indignation.

Aha. So it was the same Dragon. We Lucifen have battled their kind, you know. Rhisveri has fought them before.

She looked triumphant at getting this tidbit out of Ryoka and immediately began whispering to Visophecin. Ryoka just stared at Paxere.

Youre no Visophecin. I told everyone that.

Paxeres triumphant look faded. She opened her mouth, but Visophecin himself spoke through the stone in their link.

Brass Dragons are merely a type. They have no hierarchy metallically, Paxere. This is no ordinary Dragon. No younger Lucifen are to approach if an altercation begins. Sophridel has confirmed Ryokas name. This is Teriarch, a Dragonlord. One of the greatest Dragons ever to fly the world over. Do not let Ryoka Griffin approach him. Silence your communication spell.

Yes, Visophecin.

Paxere fumbled with the stone, and Ryoka experienced a moment of vicarious pride. Right until it shifted back to worry.

They recognized him. Yes, some of them did. Many immortals, from Paterghost to Paxere, didnt know the name. But the old ones did. They knew Teriarch like Ryoka knew of them.

Legends unto immortals. Sophridels masks, hanging in the veil of shadows, all turned to Teriarch with expressions of unease. Visophecin adjusted his posture as the Lucifen spread out into a battle formation. Rhisveri was still tensed, snarling.

I wish we had a dragonslayers sword. We had a nice one before that damned Goblin King attacked.

Uzine planted the eighteenth blade fifty paces away from the last one. He was still in his wheelchair. When he stood, hed fight. But he might need even the scraps of energy it took to stand right now.

Dragonlord. Even the Agelum had few in their number who had met oneanymore. But then, they did die; their immortality was tainted by their shattered health.

Some of Visophecins predecessors had known Dragonlords, Uzine well knew. Not just met them, but had relationships both adversarial and amicable.

Damn. This wouldnt be like fighting a regular Dragon. Eighteen blades, and each one was one of the finest weapons in Ailendamus armory, meant for their [Generals] or champions. Rhisveri had made three of them; the other immortals all but two.

Each one might break if it came to battle. Hence, Uzine spacing them out. The Dragon was alone, but Uzine didnt want a war.

Not now. Theyd all already lost enough. Fithea

And Razia.

No one said she was dead. Not yet. Rhisveri had interrogated Ryoka and kept claiming she had something to do with it, but Uzine doubted it. Ryoka Griffin was not the sort of person who would or could do something like that. Make Razia disappear without a trace. The Human might be related to what had happened, but Uzine was a warrior.

He knew, already, what had happened. If not why or how.

Now we might waste more lives in a battle against the last Dragonlord of Flames. It would not come to that. Could not.

If he fights, it will only be because Rhisveri loses his temper. See how he comes to us. He agreed to take this away from the capital. He spoke to Culnous as a friend.

Did you believe that part about the Dragonlord of Waves being his brother? I nearly shat myself laughing.

The other Agelum smiled as she rolled her wheelchair forwards.

Humility. He is trying to be reasonable.

They were speaking, now. All the Agelum could hear it. Rhisveris voice was over-loud and full of ire, as much as theyd ever heard him speak.

do not suffer Dragons upon my land lightly, Dragonlord. Or is itEldavin?

The Agelum stiffened. The Archmage of Memory was alive. The fact that the Dragon could maintain such a powerful simulacrum and be hereperhaps the other one was weakened, but he had already shown his intentions. They waited, and Gadrea, holding a single axe in her frail hand, looked up sharply as the Dragon responded.

Who? That is not a name I would go by. Do you meanimposter? In the old tongue? I assure you, I am the Dragonlord of Flame.

Youdeny being Eldavin?

Rhisveris voice sounded strangled. The Dragon hesitated.

Icannot deny my actions of late. If I was this Eldavin, I take full responsibility. However, I do not know what occurred. A magical incident robbed me of my memories. I am afraid a simulacrum with some of my knowledge went rogue earlier this year. Everything it has done islost.

Uzines lips moved as Gadrea looked at him.

You mean, we were afraid of an amnesiac Dragons alter ego?

The female Agelums lips twitched. Uzine gave her a wry smile.

I told you we were losing our steps. First Curulac, now this. Are you really going to abandon us at this moment? You, Gadrea?

The other Agelum turned her chair to face Uzine and sighed. Thenshe stood up. She shifted a pack from her lap onto her shoulders, and Uzine saw her stretch her body.

He loved to see it. Relished the way her skin didnt seem transparent any longer. Would have cried aloud with joy to see one of his kind stand and not break like glass.

Yet his smile was bittersweet. For Gadrea had a pack on, enchanted for holding, and she put the axe on her belt as she looked towards where Rhisveri was visible, rearing up in the distance. Past the illusion spell they were skirting, and it would look like an ordinary day.

Now is perfect. If I hear Ailendamus is in flames, Ill rush back. OtherwiseRhisveri will be so distracted he wont notice me gone. Visophecin as well.

Well claim youre sick for a month and quarantining with the [Healer]s orders. I doubt it will fool Visophecin more than a day if things are normal. Are you sure?

He reached out to her, but Gadrea gripped his hand gently. Her eyes, so odd to other species, turned, and multiple pupils stared into the distance.

I hear something, Uzine. Something calling me. Maybe this is what Razia followed. I must go. I am the second. Perhaps you will be third.

He shook his head, tears spilling from his eyes.

Someone has to dream of our people. We may have a future, Gadrea. A future after all. Will you not stay and watch? A Dragon comes to Ailendamus.

He looked up, and an Angel smiled. Not gently. Kindlybut with the same visage as a warrior of faith on a quest. Like an adventurer staring up at a distant mountain.

Full of life.

And yet, I must go. I have always, my entire life, wished for a mortals lifespan to live fully, not waste away in kindness and frailty, Uzine. To death or whatever Razia found. A great purpose.

He averted his gaze for a moment as Gadreas smile brightened. Then he heard the flap of wings. Just for a second. When he looked back

She was gone. Uzine wiped at his eyes. Then he turned back to his home. The world was changing. Even immortals changed.

Or died.

I did not come here to resume hostilities, Wyrm of Ailendamus. Any transgressions I have madeI intend to make recompense for upon this hour. Allow me first the chance to prove my sincerity and greet you as Dragonlord. To the last of the Great Wyrms of this world.

He spoke well enough. Each line was a deliberate calculation, mixing the Terandrian formality with direct enough language so as not to provoke the venomous bile in Rhisveris chest.

Greet you as Dragonlord. Acknowledging him as a Great Wyrmoh, so calculated. Suitable recompense for the damage hed caused?

YetyetRhisveri longed with each passing second to attack, and it was more than even his hatred towards Ryoka. This was a rivalry bone-deep. Wyrm and Dragon. Even Teriarchs presence was like an intrusion into Rhisveris lair.

We are more than beasts. So he had claimed to Ryoka. Proving that nowwas far harder.

You boast well for someone claiming the name of a famous Dragonlord. Have you any proof of it?

Endless proofs. The least of which I may share with you now. Yet I do not know your name, Great Wyrm. Will you not at least speak it, that all and sundry might bear it the rest of their days?

The Brass Dragon was too flowery. Now, it reminded Rhisveri of the other Dragons hed met. Arrogance in silver. Youtha total ignorance of the rest of their kindand in some, the same terrifying age as he beheld now.

If anyone belonged to Terandria, it was this Dragon. For he bore all the hallmarks of the kingdoms Rhisveri intended to tear down.

Clinging to past glories and a dead grandeur. Yet Rhisveri replied grudgingly.

You speak to Rhisveri Zessoprical. Wyrm of the Great Zessoprica of Chandrar. Wyrm Queen of the Withering Age.

He had looked up the rest of that long ago, yet he might never have claimed her. But for that conversation with ghosts.

Wyrm. Art thou mine?

The first thing she said to him was a question. He stared up at a Wyrm even grander than he, who seemed graceful and made his writhing about seem like energy wasted.

I was born of your corpse. As were the thousands of others. Are you truly her ghost? Not one of our kin ever found youand we see the dead! Why are you here? What is happening?

For answer, Zessoprica lowered her head as the Dragonlords fought something he couldnt see.

Each of us a minute. Each, an explanation. To Baleros I went, with every other kin of scales. The last Elves died there, and their secrets are what we pass to you now. Listen, spawn of mine. Or just as you were born from my fallturn and face your true foes. They command even deaths pall.

She nodded left, and his scales burned with unease. Yet Rhisveri had so many questions not at all useful.

Whatwhat wisdom have you, Zessoprica?

Mother? Nothere was so little affection in those eyes. Just an intensity. And as if she heard that word unspoken, the Great Wyrm threw back her head and hissed like laughing waves.

My words are these to the spawn of my blood and flesh: we are Wyrms. Remember that, and do as you will. You will not die a noble death.

He had not seen Fithea before the ghosts vanished. He wondered what she would have said. Something lessquintessentially useless.

We are Wyrms. Now that he thought of it, Zessoprica had much of Teriarchs air. A world-weary superiority and refusal to

I will remind you of what you have forgotten, then, oh mighty Teriarch. Your Archmage, your simulacrum has made war on Ailendamus. He has slain thousands of [Soldiers], and he was, in part, responsible for the death of my Great General, Dioname. But for his interference, thousands might live and a wars course changed. He even kidnapped one of the immortalis under my aegis. The Lucifens own. You claim you remember none of it?

Teriarchs eyes flickered left to Visophecin, but his face betrayed no emotion.

I do. I will amend these ills as best I may, cousin. I can only claim the madness of magic misused. I, myself, do not know what went wrong. If I could but guessI attempted to do something so dangerous it backfired. Piercing Archmage Zelkyrs last test comes to mind. Whatever guards Wistram may be more dangerous than I anticipated. Enough to wound a Dragons mind.

Rhisveri hoped his own poker-face was good enough to keep his thoughts from revealing themselves. Archmage Zelkyrs test? He said it so casually. Then again, Rhisveri had wondered if he, in his true body, might not break it in twain as well.

These were all good-faith statements. However, it was making the prickling ire worse. Rhisveri did not like feelinglooked down upon. But that was the effect he was getting, as a ruler entertaining the guest who had strode into his inner sanctum and demanded an audience.

Yes, that was what the Dragon had done wrong. He had teleported into Ailendamus and forced this meeting. His demeanor now was humble. No, wait.

He spoke as if one were supposed to be humble, but without a shred of it actually evident. Rhisveri decided he was losing control of his own tongue. He made a subtle signal, and Visophecin stepped forwards. He might have done it anyways.

The Infernal Court greets thee, Dragonlord. I am Visophecin, First of Lucifen. It has been long since our kinds last met.

His bow was careful and refined. Different from any other formal salute that Rhisveri had ever seen. It must be designed for Dragons, and as for those titlesRhisveri hadnt heard Visophecin claim that since their first meeting.

The Infernal Court was dead. House Shoel didnt refer to themselves like that. Not after a Goblin King cut down their already thin numbers.

However, it was a probing greeting. Unfortunately for Visophecin? It seemed the Dragon was either fast on his feet or used to dealing with the Lucifen. Both, probably. The Dragon lifted a claw and drew it across his breast in a five-pointed star which made one of the other Lucifen catch their breath sharply.

I greet thee, First of Law. Unto the Infernal Court, I come as supplicant only in hospitalitys sacred name. My admiration for the Infernal Court extends also to the Radiant Host. May I greet their Visionary?

Visophecin only paused a second as he straightened out of his bow.

Heis arriving presently. We regret that this meeting does not take place under more suitable auspices.

The Lucifen acknowledged the simple battleground, and Teriarch replied.

It is not the first time I have met the Infernal Court out of splendor, Lord Visophecin. Nor, I pray, shall it be the last.

The two nodded, and Rhisveri thought Visophecin had lost that bout handily. Normally, that would really cheer him up, but it only added to the feeling in his chest. The Dragon was taking the time to greet everyone with names or titles he clearly remembered.

Warden Culnous. A Keeper of Masks. May I know your name? Sophridel of Many Faces, a rare honor to meet one of your nature so diverse. And

He came to Lady Paterghost, and the touchy, supercilious suit of armor spoke up quickly. Of the immortals present, she was probably aware her nature was the least august.

I am Lady Paterghost by dint of my long service to Taimaguros royal palace. With me stands Nube, my sworn companion, Dragonlord.

The mimic waved one hand as Paterghost tried to bow. Now, how would he address her? The Dragons eyes fixed the animated suit of armor that had been around for a thousand years before it decided to start giving its opinions to everyone it saw.

Ah, a Lady-of-Arms. You are well met indeed, Lady Paterghost, and Ailendamus could want for no finer a noble protectorate of the throne. Taima be with thee, and Gura shield you and your companion. A Treasurewarden and Lady-of-Arms is a potent combination of dignity.

Paterghost looked delighted by the appellations. Rhisveris teeth ground together audibly.

She was going to refer to herself like that every time they gathered, wasnt she?

However, that confirmed it. Rhisveri was almost, almost completely certain that Teriarch was making up names at this point. He based that on the convenience of the addressthey were such obvious titles, ones that made sense, that Rhisveri suspected that if you had a fancy way to refer to an intelligent suit of armor or mimic, it wouldnt sound like Treasurewarden but some obscure name.

Secondly? If there was a grander way to refer to herself, Paterghost would have found and have been using it long ago.

Etymologically, Rhisveri had to admit he was a bit fascinated by this. Was this when the lexicon changed? Just a Dragon spouting bullshit? Actuallythat was how most words developed.

Time to end the pleasantries. Rhisveri hadnt just been simmering with active hostility. He had been planning a retort.

I trust Lord Uzine and the other immortals will have time to meet you, cousin. However, I must insist that our business is concluded here first. Ryoka Griffin herself is my guest, and until you provide assurances to back up your insults to Ailendamus, she must stay out of sight.

Teriarchs head came up at that name. He turned to Rhisveri, and the Wyrm smiled. Right up until Teriarch spoke.

AhRyoka Griffin? I believe I have met her. Hail once more to the Rulers of Mountains. The royal line does not die so long as their people remain.

He gave a very respectful nod to the Griffin perched in a tree, ignoring her elders telling her to get lost. Rhisveri and all the immortals looked left, and the Wyrms mouth opened as he saw Teriarch addressingGilaw.

Gilaw looked confused and offended. Teriarch noticed and coughed.

Erwas I perhaps mistaken?

Ryoka Griffin? The Wind Runner, the Human youArchmage Eldavin seemed to hold in some regard? The thief who stole the scrwho helped return you to your body?

He didnt want to mention the Scroll of Resurrection, although Visophecin and the others might have learned of its existence. Teriarch blinked at Rhisveri.

Ah, Ryoka. Forgive me, Featherfriend.

He nodded at Gilaw and then turned back to Rhisveri.

I would be interested in meeting with her, briefly. I understand she is a prisoner of Ailendamus. Her own crimes I would also like to amend and see her returned to her life without grudge nor enmity. I shall repay that debt, but we need not hold her between us as a point of issue, cousin.

You dontwish to speak with her?

Rhisveri hesitated. The Dragons face was still almost completely unreadable, but his nonchalant attitude didnt seem forced. Once more, Teriarch paused.

I believe our acquaintance may also have been memories lost to me. It is regrettable, but as such things have come to pass, I hope simply to make amends. Come now. Let us not discuss mortal foibles.

It was there Teriarch made his first mistake. It was all too likely that the Dragonlord said that after carefully considering how to speak to Rhisveri. Analyzing Ailendamus and so on.

However, his comment did not pass well among Visophecin or any of the other immortals. In factRhisveri found his own mouth moving despite himself.

The Wind Runner of Reizmelt is a Courier who broke into Ailendamus own vaults for you, Dragonlord. She not only bested several of my finest [Knights], but saved the life of an Ailendamus [Princess] and has the respect of the Faerie King.

Visophecins mouth opened slightly as he looked sideways at Rhisveri. Technicallytrue? Beating Dame Chorisa in a footrace counted, and Ryoka had saved Oescaeven if the bomb were meant for her.

However, that last comment made Teriarchs head snap up.

The Faerie King has contacted this world? Truly?

Only through a gateway for Ryoka Griffin. And myself. I have exchanged words with him and had some business with the Lands of the Fae.

Rhisveris comments would have been true under most truth spells. Teriarch actually backed up a step, and when he spoke again, his tone was quite different.

I had no knowledge that Ailendamus was in contact with the travellers of the Tuatha D. Truly, then, this kingdom has the potential to shadow even the great gatherings of old. I only hope it shall be ruled with wisdom and foresight for the mutual dangers to come.

Rhisveri twitched.

Shadows of the great gatherings of old? It seems as though you find the Kingdom of Glass and Glory less than magnificent, Dragonlord.

Teriarch hesitated, and his wings opened slightly.

I misspoke, cousin. I merely mentioned this in reference to the previous Wyrm-Empires I have had thepleasureof visiting. Or making regrettable war against. Do not hold it against me. I walked the last Cormornest of Harpies. I have spoken to the rulers of half-Elves, whose palaces are but dust built upon by the later rulers of this land. Ailendamus is a powerful nation in this era. But as I hope we both knowsome foes can humble even the Faerie Kings court. And theirs is the fount of all legends, myths, and stories.

The immortals exchanged glances at this, but Rhisveris blood just ran colder and colder. Now came the hints, the threats, even implicitly.

And if we do not make peace, how long does Ailendamus have to last?

The Dragon lifted one claw, his mismatched eyes focusing on Rhisveris. He didnt blink as the Wyrm and Dragon locked gazes.

Be it forever, as I intend to raise no claw nor speak against it so long as we can come to an accord. Cousin. I do come in peace, personally. LookI bear no armor nor blade.

As you would know, cousinwe need neither.

Somewhere behind them, Ryoka Griffin was crying. Hiding it in a Sariant Lambs wool so no one would hear her unless you had a scrying spell monitoring her reactions. Looking at the Dragon who didnt even remember her name.

Challenge a Wyrm, steal a scroll, all for him. The Wyrm hissed.

One last thing. You claim you can make amends, but your ally, Ryoka Griffin, slew a vassal of mine. Of the immortals you see present. She wassuborned by foreign powers. Yet Fithea, the last Dryad of the world, is dead. Will you answer for that, Dragonlord?

Teriarchs eyes flashed, and he raised his head.

A Dryad? One still lived? Andno child, no mere Sapborn as some might find, but a true Dryad of the great forests? Dead?

Rhisveri nodded. There were some Dryads the world knew. Fithea likened them to half-conscious manifestations of trees, incapable of speech. Give them a hundred years and they might become the basis of what she was. But she was the last of a Great Forest. Even the Vail Forest of Izril could not produce her kind anymore.

Dead. By your Wind Runners hand, in self-defense.

The Dragonlord closed his eyes.

I take responsibility for that. Never could I condone such actions. I offer my greatest regrets. The last child of the forests upon land is gone.

Rhisveri slowly nodded. The bubbling anger in him began to subside until he saw Teriarchs eyes open slowly.

Just remember, cousin. Such is the price of rulership over mortals. I hope we may discuss governance ere I leave. I would not wish Ailendamus to mirror some of the flawed nations I have seen before. Even mortals cannot suffer silently forever.

He glanced to the side. Before Rhisveri could speak, Teriarch nodded at the Lucifen.

I make such comments only out of familiarity with the Infernal Court, of course. They have attemptedtheses of proper ruling that have gone astray in the past. As even they would admit.

Visophecins red gaze fixed on the Dragonlord without a word. Rhisveri actually lifted one corner of his mouth as he bared his fangs.

A principled Dragon, then. One who came with charm but also that arrogance of old. Power and what he probably thought of as dignity.

A statesman of older lands. A champion of dead peoples. A mentor of the past.

Now, the Dragon moved a claw in the air, tracing what looked like a simple unlocking spell for a vault or some other holding device.

If I may, I would like to speak now of a concrete gift to the Great Wyrm of Ailendamus and the immortals gathered here. A worthy bridge over the hostilities.

The Wyrm smiled. He uncoiled from his striking posture and nodded.

Naturally. Tribute to the tyrant, to appease. Will we swear friendship or merely a truce between cousins, Dragonlord Teriarch? After you inspect my kingdom for faults? Or shall I sign a pact not to invade other kingdoms?

Rhisveri

Culnous whispered, but Teriarch glanced up, and again, the air actually turned darker as the two locked magical stares.

I do not overestimate my power, Great Rhisveri. I am well aware of the historyand reasons behind your war with the Dawn Concordat. I trust that you and I both know there are greater foes at hand.

This time, Visophecins eyes locked on Rhisveri. He had not heard the Dragonlords warnings. Rhisveri had.

There might be no finer ally than this Dragon, yet Rhisveris mouth exposed all of his fangs.

So you intend to interfere not at all with Ailendamus business? Very well. I intend to repay each and every nation that has troubled my borders soon enough.

Noelictus, Pheislant, even Desonis and Nadelthe entire south of Terandria would be engulfed in flames. Even his other immortals looked alarmed at that, but Teriarch didnt call the bluff.

I am sure a Great Wyrm will choose his enemies as he wills. I only hope this: the safety of Ryoka Griffin and that the wrongs I have committed will also be a prelude to peace.

The vault was opening. Rhisveri caught sight of a cave and realized the Dragon was transporting something from a continent away. The immortals tensed, but Teriarch spoke.

A great tragedy has occurred, as I am sure all are aware. The ghosts of every age are gone forevermore. That they died once is tragedy enough, yet the peoplesmy peoples, yours, Great Rhisveriare gone. There are not enough of our kind left to mourn a species. Hundreds would be equally insufficient. But there is a tradition amongst Dragons I thought long on when pondering my journey. You seein times of old, to mark the passing of our kind, we would give up a gift that mattered to us more than any other.

Slowly, something began to move through the air. Visophecin didnt even bother at a pretense of casualnessthe immortals moved back and magical wards began appearing. Yet Teriarch was just focused on Rhisveri.

The Wyrms eyes were locked on something being drawn through the air. Teriarch continued, his voice low, solemnand, yes, pained.

This war has been bitter. One of forevers children is dead, and her species dies with her. Let this be an end to it. The mortals need not trouble you, cousin. Allow them their hollow homes, built on our legacy. I offer you this in its place. Calanfer was built upon another, but that was gifted to Marquin the Radiant for her deeds by my peers. Thisthis Dragonthrone was never taken. It was home to the last gatherings of Dragon, Wyrm, and Wyvern. Let it be a fitting place for the last Great Wyrm of this world.

He held a glowing orb in one claw. Noa contained world, so vast that it could hold hundreds of Dragons and still have room. Rhisveri saw tiny thrones made of material so powerful he had not more than scraps for his [Wizards] to research. The immortals around him gasped in pure shock. Visophecins own voice shook slightly.

You are offering usyour Dragonthrone?

The Dragonlord of Flames stared down at one of his greatest possessions. A sign of his authority. The legacy of Dragons.

Even his claw shook, so minutely only Rhisveris eyes saw it. Yet he let the Dragonthrone hover in the air, waiting to be unbound or entered. You could bring it into reality or use it as a hiding spot, have an inner sanctum no one could enter in the heart of your palace

Every reason Rhisveri had used to convince the others to make war on Calanfer came back to him in a flash. This was the mark of power that no species could deny. The crowning jewel of Dragons.

Teriarch offered it to Rhisveri, and the Wyrm looked at the old Dragon.

This is your gift? Truly?

He couldnt hide the surprise, the incredulity from his tone. Teriarch inclined his head slowly. A bow from Dragon to Wyrm.

I do. I can offer no greater mark of my sincerity.

The Wyrms gaze stared upon a wonder even he had not seen in eleven thousand years. A treasure to replace even a Scroll of Resurrection. His body trembled as he bent down to stare at the Dragonthronethen up at Teriarch. He nodded slowly.

I refuse your gift, Teriarch. I have no need of it.

The Dragonlords eyes went wide, the first unguarded sign of true shock, and then narrowed a second before he resumed his mask.

Rhisveri!

Azemith called out, but the Wyrm was slithering back.

Does something about it displease you, Rhisveri? This is my Dragonthrone. Home to the Dragonlords, and yes, even Great Wyrms. It was a shelter when magic died. A bastion to fight against

I know. I do not want it. I do not want the leavings of an old Dragonlord too cowardly to do more than pay me off. I do not need a worn relic. And most of all, I scorn the notion that you could buy me as if I were as greedy as a lesser Wyrm.

With each word, Rhisveri felt himself shaking. With glee. With satisfactionpurely for the anger now travelling across Teriarchs face, no matter how hard he tried to hide it.

Lesser Wyrms? Do you mean Zessoprica or the Wyrm Kings and Queens who made war for this very Dragonthrone? Every single species has set foot in this Dragonthrone as supplicants or enemies.

And? I have not ever moved within it. So until now, there is little to boast of. If you wish, I will do a circuit of the Dragonthrone before you leave that you might boast of it from now on.

Duke Rhisveri. We must speak to you now. Dragonlord, we will not scorn your gift so lightly.

Culnous interrupted urgently, and the other immortals surrounded Rhisveri, but no one could just drag him back, even if Menorkel were there. And Teriarchs eyes were glowing. Was that smoke in the air?

Great Wyrm. I have beenI hopenothing but respectful in my address. I had hoped you would reciprocate the courtesy. I do not pretend to take no offense from your comments.

Rhisveri hissed, and the laughter was bubbling in his throat.

You pretend to be humble and graceful well, Dragonlord. All I see is old peacockishness befitting of a preening [Earl] expecting half the court to bow to his rank and bursting midriff. You are old, out of shape, and deluded if you think I am impressed by mere words and pageantry. You claim to be here for peacebecause you know what would happen if you tempted my wrath, let alone those gathered here.

The Dragonlord blinked slowly as the immortals of Ailendamus froze and then began moving away from Rhisveri. Slowly, Teriarch exhaled, and there was smoke on his breath.

I sense a challenge, Rhisveri. The young often sought to prove themselves in the past. I came to find a ruler, not a hatchling. May I speak to the Great Wyrm, not his impetuous pride?

Rhisveri spoke with a giddy laugh.

I would have thought you knew Wyrms, Dragon.

Teriarch stared at Rhisveri, whose fangs were beginning to drip with venom that ran onto the dirt and cut holes into the earth. He nodded.

I do. I have looked for changebut I see I was only speaking to a memory. Hail, cousin.

The two, Wyrm and Dragon, rested there, Teriarch on his claws almost sedately, tail curled, reminiscent of a cat or Sphinx of old. The Wyrm was slightly relaxed, uncurled from his striking pose, head lowered so as to be of a height with the smaller Brass Dragon.

The silence was broken by Rhisveris smile. Wide and unadorned by pretense. He said:

[Blood Demons Lightning].

You know, as conversations between Wyrms and Dragons went, this one had been on the better end of interactions.

The first bolt of crimson lightning struck the Brass Dragonor tried to. It evaporated inches from Teriarchs chest as it hit a ward spell and broke into fuzzy filaments. Which was impressive, because that was at least a Tier 5 spell.

Tier 6?

The problem for Sophridel, the Elemental of Masks, was that the categorization of magic gotsilly when it came to higher tiers.

[Blood Demons Lightning] was an exceptionally advanced spell that was a curse melded into a lightning bolt. However, it was meant for a single, small target, and was thus not like [Valmiras Comet Storm]. It was harder to cast than [Valmiras Comet Storm], though, but less mana-intensive.

Did you call that Tier 5 or Tier 6? Tier 6 in complexity, Tier 5 in scale. Anyways, the Elemental would have liked to know how a Dragon took the spell head-on without protections.

Knowledge was a wonder. Sophridel watched as the Dragon took into the air, and Rhisveri lunged like a striking snake. Even for his size, he was faster than a viperyet he missed. Teriarch popped out of existence and wavered into place a hundred feet up.

Then the fight began. Sophridel was aware of Visophecin organizing the other immortals to support Rhisveri and stop the conflict, but as he understood it, this was almost inevitable.

Wyrms and Dragons hated uncertainty. They would often fightnot even to the deathto determine who was stronger if they were in close proximity. Perhaps this would be for the best if they came to a mutually respectful end.

He suggested this to Visophecin, and the Lucifens cursing indicated what he thought of the idea. However, Sophridel maintained his calmmostly because he had retreated to a safe distance and he had fourteen ward spells on him.

My book is quite clear that Teriarch, the Dragonlord, often engaged in such duels for supremacy.

Your what?

I have a book on him. House Shoels libraries are quite replete for ancient texts, even if they have lost many entries. As is my own collection. Although this may have come from Rhisveris stolen library. Would you like to borrow it later?

He was staring at Teriarch as the Dragon roared. Yes, this was definitely Teriarch, Lord of Flames. The Dragonthrone proved it.

It was justSophridel stared at the book with his many masks. Each one was his face, so he read the text from many angles, but it said the same thing. He glanced up at the Dragon, stared at the book.

A few frowning masks clustered around the text. There was a passage here, one of the first ones, that really described him in this book of tales about Teriarch, among other famous Dragons.

One eye shone like the violet skies of the Continent of Glass whence evening fell. The otherthe deep, clear skies of autumns repose. He strode through the Palace of Seasons, each scale flashing under sunlight. His mane flowing copper, his lithe stance unto Dragons as [Swordmasters] were to half-Elves with no knowledge of war.

Sophridels masks swiveled upwards to watch the Dragon as he dodged a shower of acid. He hadnt attacked back yethe seemed to be trying to cease the fighting.

The eyes fit. Heliotrope and cerulean, quite magnificent. The mane? Check. The scales? Yes, most definitely.

Thepicture the [Artist] had captured of the Dragon was where it became a problem. Oh, all the other elements were the same, and so Sophridel decided this book might have a lot of historical accuracyeven if you had to take into account historical bias.

He wouldnt have even noticed the discrepancy if hed met Teriarch normally. This was the first Dragon that Sophridel had met in safety at any length. It was just

The Dragonlord in the picture looked a bit more lithe than the one flying through the air. A lot more. Maybe it was also the [Artist] clearly defining muscle groups, but Sophridel saw a lot less of that.

The Elemental of Masks was fairly sure Teriarch was out of shape. He watched, unconcerned, as a shower of acid splashed off glowing shields like armor coating the Brass Dragons body.

This was unto territorial marking and disputes between hyenas and Needlehounds in Chandrar. All species save his were ruled by biological impulses.

Even Elementals knew arrogance. Sophridel heard Rhisveri chantingwith two voices? He was splitting his magic up into increasing complexities that only Sophridels best masks could follow. He twisted up into the sky, flying, the Wyrms head striking like a snake. The Dragon flapped left, swearing and neutralizing spells.

Prepare to support Rhisveri. [Teleportation] lockdown

Visophecins terse voice interrupted Sophridels notes. The Elemental of Masks spoke.

The fighting will end within fifteen minutes, Visophecin. Do not

Rhisveri finished his spell overhead.

[olcanic Ashtorm].

The Mask Elemental looked up just in time to see the first fiery column pouring out of the sky. Ash and fire, like the fury of a volcano. And it was coming down straight athe slowly swallowed his book to keep it safe.

Sophridel?

No one was raising the Elemental of Masks via spell. Seeing him was impossible; a wave of ash was billowing across the ground, followed by a heat so intense the grass and earth were bursting into flames.

Ryoka would have long been in the air and flyingbut the Lucifen were shielding their location. The ash billowed in front of ruby shields of magic, but even at a distance, Paxere lookednervous.

That spell hit us. What is he doing?

She shouted, to Ryoka more than the other immortals shouting at the others to take cover. Ryoka just stared up as a howling Wyrm burst through the maelstrom like the city-destroying nightmare out of a monster movie.

By contrast, the small Dragon was merely the size of the largest commercial airplanes known to man. He flew left, swearing at Rhisveriboth their voices were loud enough to be heard over the dull roar of the spells.

did not come here to do battle! Desist, Wyrm! This will end poorly for both of us!

So you claim. [Grand Lightning]!

A bolt blasted into Teriarchs shields, and Ryoka saw it disperse over shimmering, overlaid plates of magic. Like a rainbow. However, that was just a feint; Rhisveri lunged, and his mouth was so wide he would have bitten deep into much of Teriarchs body.

Save for the Dragon flickering out of existence again. His magical shields ate three more lightning bolts, two brilliant white-yellow, another crimson. Rhisveris next lunge slammed Teriarch back in the air; the Dragon caught himself with two wingbeats, and Ryoka heard him snarl.

A Dragon and Wyrm fought. For petty reasons, for no reason if you were uncharitablebut Ryoka had seen this coming.

Rhisveri was too prideful, too hurt. Even if Teriarch had given him two Dragonthrones, it might have come to this. Because, what Sophridel wouldnt have understood was that, feelings aside, incentives aside

Here was a Dragonlord. The legend of old. Rhisveri was comparativelyand it was really comparativelyyoung. He had bested his own kind and maybe other Dragons, but this was him proving how strong he was. Like how a hotheaded young boxer might rashly challenge the world champion.

How serious it got and how far Teriarch was past his primeit could go a lot of ways. That uncertainty was why even Ryoka was hugging the Sariant Lamb, Lady Heppe, to her chest. Actually, the Sariant Lamb might have been hugging Ryoka on the basis that the Wind Runner could carry her to safety.

The striking Wyrm cleaved the air, leaving passages in the smoke as Teriarch kept dodging. He ate another strike, and again, the magical barrier howled, but resisted the strikes.

Whos winning?

Menorkel was staring up as an ash-covered Gilaw came flapping into the protective barriers. Some of her feathers were on fire. Ryoka realized Paxere and the others were looking at her.

I donttheyre not fighting hard yet. I think.

Thats not fighting hard?

It was about perspective. Rhisveri had been firing off low-tier spells for him, and he was attacking with his body. Teriarch?

How would she describe this? ToAlber and Fierre? Yes, if she were trying to relate it

Rhisveri was the younger fighter, taking a lot of wild swings at Teriarch. Too amped up on emotion and, perhaps, nerves. He kept lashing out with his body. He was big and had an immeasurable weight and size advantage on Teriarch.

On the ground, the Dragon would be in trouble. In the airRhisveri was trying to ground him to use his full weight.

Teriarch, on the other hand, was far older, smaller, but he had all the magical power of a Dragonlord, and he was turtling, blocking everything with his magical shields. He didnt maneuver muchhe mostly kept airborne, teleporting out of the way of attacks.

Impeccable footwork, still trying to calm Rhisveri down. It lasted right up until Visophecin locked down teleportation.

Ryoka saw Teriarch try to teleportand then Rhisveri slammed into him and opened his maw.

Die, Dragonlord!

And he unleashed his venomous acid at point-blank range. Ryoka saw a cloud deadlier than even the volcanic ashstorm fill the skies, and the roar of pain was followed by a thunderous impact.

Teriarch slammed into the ground and got up just in time to see Visophecin chanting.

[Summon: Avatar of the Wyrm Queen].

The skies began to open. The battle went from about 21 to 100 in a moment. Teriarch looked up and roared.

If its a fight you want, upstart, then

Rhisveri whirled around, and his serpentine body cracked out like a whip. Teriarchs magical shields finally exploded as a ghostly Wyrm began drifting out of the heavens. The Dragon went tumbling across the ground, and Ryoka cried out.

[Arise, Forests of Estiphole]!

The Wyrm of Ailendamus had been practicing for battle against foes like Teriarch all his life. Ryoka had seen his workout routine onceshe realized, as giant trees sprouted from the ground, what he was going to do.

Towering trunks of wood, every color from light beige to new greenwood, as large as the ancient redwoods of her world. And this was a spellthey formed entangling canopies, a network of vast columns.

Rhisveris body shot into the trees as Teriarch tried to fly and found the branches and trees stifling his mobility. The second Wyrm descended, and the coils of their body danced from tree to tree.

Like a snake, encircling the arena, able to strike from any direction. How they fought undergroundadapted for an aerial foe.

Two Wyrms circled the Brass Dragon, and Ryoka saw Teriarchs head turning left, right as he tried to gain altitude.

But soslowly. Ryoka Griffin could fly faster than that. The Brass Dragons laboring wings were slow. He was so heavy that he really couldnt zoom through the air.

And Rhisveri? He could fly as fast as a striking snake, amplified by his thousands of feet of body. He had caught her.

The two Wyrms struck in tandem, one going low, the other high. Teriarch saw the [Avatar of the Wyrm Queen] coming at him and dove downstraight into Rhisveris jaws.

No!

Ryoka didnt know how strong his scales were, but nothing could take the impact from Rhisveri like that. The Wyrm slammed into the Dragon unable to teleport

And then the sound that rang through the air made Ryoka and all the immortals clap their hands to their ears. It was followed by an ear-splitting shriek from Rhisveri.

The Wyrm writhed, howling, on the ground, and Ryoka Griffin looked up just in time to see a Dragon land on Rhisveris body and slam the Wyrm back into the ground. Ryokas eyes went round.

Thenshe realized shed never seen Rhisveri fight. Eldavin?

Rhisveri could have probably killed Eldavin. Especially with his true body. Especially against the Archmage of Memory who fought like a Dragon, with a Dragons arrogance and none of his qualities.

Teriarch was a Dragonlord. And as his scales flashed and he roared, Ryoka realized

She actually knew squat about Dragons. Because Rhisveri had hit Teriarch, biting, put the full weight of his body into the blow. He hadnt missed, nor had Teriarch attacked back.

He didnt have to. The Brass Dragon stood as Rhisveri writhed, weighing down the Wyrm as Rhisveri fought to get free. He was so heavy the Wyrm couldnt lift him off easily.

Becausehe was made of metal.

He had always looked like his scales were metallic. Now? It was like a statue of a Dragon. Solid metalsolid enough for a Wyrm to chip his fangs on impact.

Brass Dragon. Rhisveris head came up. He aimed at the Dragon, and his mouth opened.

Wyrms venomous breath. Teriarch inhaled. Ryoka saw his mouth open, and againhe surprised her. Because what emanated from his maw, as Rhisveri began to exhale, was faster than any fire.

A storm of lightning engulfed Rhisveris face. Bolts which, like Dragonfire, were tinged purple, clinging to the scales as they discharged their energy. The Wyrm reeled backwards.

Hed lost the exchange of Dragonfire. Ryokas mouth was wide open.

He could do that? But firelightning was another kind of energy. It wasnt as vivid as his fiery breath. But the Dragonlord had done what Rafaema hadnt against the Wyvern Lord.

Practiced.

Wyrm and Dragon opened their mouths again. This time, the flames hit a stream of venom, and the explosion of steam engulfed both. Ryoka saw the vibrant flames pressing towards Rhisveris face. Equal in intensitybut Teriarch projected his like a spear of flame.

Rhiveris head dodged the flames, which still clung to his face as he screamed. He opened his mouth and exhaled black bile. Teriarch blasted it out of the air. He exhaledthen stopped. Ryoka saw him dodge aside.

The panting Dragonlord leapt away as the Wyrm followed him, still breathing acid. Neither seemed to have a limit to the Dragonbreath they could produce. But Teriarch was panting

He was out of breath. Smoke trailed from his mouth as he ran on the ground. Ryoka recognized the blur of movement as [Haste]. Or [Greater Haste].

You pathetic Dragon! Die!

The summoned Wyrm dove straight down as Teriarch looked up. He opened his mouthand exhaled.

This time, it was a ball of fire. It had been gathering in his mouth, compressingand he spat it straight up into the open mouth of the Avatar. Ryoka saw the light enter the artificial Wyrms body.

Then she went blind. And deaf. Ryoka stumbled around until someone slapped her, literally.

[Remove Blindness]! [Remove Deafness]!

Ryoka could see again. The sunspots in her vision faded, and she felt the ringing in her ears clear up. Paxere pointed up.

Look!

Rhisveri was dueling in a firestorm of spells with Teriarch, shredding the magical forest. He was advancingTeriarch was retreating, knocking down the magical spells.

Much like he had in Wistram. Only, this timethe Dragon was under attack from multiple sides.

The Lucifen had entered the fight. Azemith shot one of the deadly black bolts that had gone through Eldavin when he was first ambushed in Ailendamus. The Brass Dragon didnt see the attack. It struck his scales

And bounced straight into the dirt. Paxere choked.

But that worked on

Pathetic! Is this the best a Dragonlord can do?

One of Rhisveris spells, a swarm of [Shatterbolts], struck Teriarch. Rather than evade or block, the Dragon just put his head down, and the bolts glanced off him. Ryokas eyes were wide.

Was Rhisveri better than Teriarch at magic? Once again, Teriarch seemed to be on the back footuntil Ryoka saw he was retreating out of Rhisveris battleground of trees. The Dragon backed into a boulder and grunted as one of the Lucifen sent a [Fireball] blasting into his side.

Fall back. Lower-tier spells are completely ineffective.

Visophecin met Teriarchs gaze as the Dragon glowered his way. The Dragon glanced at the boulder, nearly his size, unearthed by the fighting. He slapped it once with his tail.

I can use this. Are you done venting your pique, Rhisveri?

I have not even begun to do battle. Do you think your fire has even injured me?

The Wyrm came slithering out of the forest. He was scorched and burnt from the fire and lightning breath. Hed hurt himself striking the metal Dragonbut besides that, he was truly unharmed.

Worsehe was getting angrier. Rhisveris scales began to ripple ominously, and this timehe began chanting his first self-enchantment spells.

[Crackling Armor of the Lightning Emperor].

Ah. Void take it.

Teriarch swore mildly. He looked up as a bolt of lightning shot downand encircled Rhisveris body. It formed a helmet, a jagged lance of lightning at the top, and armor, oscillating with every microsecond.

The kind of armor that would deliver a fatal charge to anyone, especially a conductive Dragon, on impact. The Wyrm dove at him, and Teriarch flapped his wings. Flames swirled around him as he took to the air again.

He cannot teleport. The network is holding.

Visophecin had switched back to containment after seeing the ineffectual attacks. The Dragonlord glared at the Lucifen staying far behind their shields, but he didnt have time to fight them.

The Wyrm was coming straight at him. The Dragonlord saw the Great Wyrm twisting through the air like a lance of lightning. If it hit himwell, he was sure hed survive one impact. Whomever Rhisveri had beenhed fought other Wyrms. This was a move to pierce their hides, tear even their infamously tough forms, and rend them apart.

So Teriarch opened his wings and flew. He raced for the skies. Immortals around him. The charging Wyrm.

Gilaw, dont!

The rising Dragon was under attack by a tiny form. A screaming Griffin, heedless of the danger. She dove in the classic hawks dive, the second-fastest creature in the skies aside from the Wyrm.

She missed. The diving Griffin aborted her charge, and Rhisveris glowing body nearly struck her as he lungedthen twisted around.

What the?

They were both going at post-Ryoka speeds. If it had been Ryoka, she would have been splattered by the impacts. Yet Teriarch was gone.

Teleportation?

No, it was stillRhisveris eyes climbed. And there was the Brass Dragon, flying upwards.

How? Rhisveri shot into the air as he teleported Gilaw into the palace. The idiotic child appeared in his quarters as the Wyrm lunged again.

You

This time, he slowed enough to see what happened. The Dragon saw him coming. Did he use the Dragonthrone? Was it a clone? An illusion? A spell?

Nohe flapped his wings and rolled out of the way of Rhisveri. Then, as the disbelieving Wyrm turned to catch himTeriarch sped up.

Impossible.

When you said things like thatyou knew you were in trouble. Rhisveri lunged, striking across five hundred feet in a second.

Teriarch was already twice that distance away and accelerating faster. Impossible! The Wyrms eyes bulged. How fast were his wings moving? They were flapping so fast that they looked like they were

Not moving at all. Then Rhisveri felt the hot air. Then he saw

The burning blue flames blasting from wingtip to wingtip behind the Dragon. The Dragonlord of Flames shot away as his fire burned behind him.

Like aRhisveri didnt have a good analogy.

Ryokadid.

A fucking fighter jet? What? What? WHAT?

Teriarch wasnt even flying anymore! Not with his wingshe just spread them like an airplane and let combustion do the rest. He accelerated as the disbelieving Wyrm fell into the distance. Then he turnedand Ryoka saw him circling like a fighter plane.

Ready for a dogfight. A dragonfight. 

The Brass Dragon came roaring back through the air, and Ryoka saw a shockwave of air travelling behind him. He had just breached the sound barrierand he was coming right at Rhisveri in a straight-on charge.

The Wyrm of Ailendamus howled as he charged, encased in his lightning-armor. Willing to trade the impact.

The Dragonlord stared at the Wyrm coming at himthen he did a twisting corkscrew up and down through the air. Rhisveri was locked onto him, refusing to let him get around the Wyrm. They were going to collide! Ryoka cried out

And then saw something flash on the ground.

Visophecin was so engrossed in listening to Ryoka and seeing the Dragon fight, he hadnt realized the other effect of the Dragons speed. He looked up sharply and shouted.

Rhisverihe escaped the teleportation lock! Watch

Too late. The Lucifen felt the Dragons magic flow past him and whirled. He turned, and the boulder that the Brass Dragon had tapped flashed. Visophecin stared at it.

Between the moments when the Dragon had evaded the Wyrm till now, a subtle spell had been coating the stone. Chipping bits of it away, contouring it like an automated [Sculptor]. It was still mostly a giant block of stone.

Only, someone had shaped it into a giant claw. A Dragons clawcurled into a fist

The Brass Dragon popped out of the air. He appeared in front of Visophecin at a complete stand-still. In his place, in the air, appeared a block of stone shaped like a giant fist.

It hit Rhisveri at about Mach 1. The thunder nearly deafened Ryoka again. But when Rhisveri landed, even the mortals in the capital, blissfully ignorant of the fighting, felt the tremor run through their houses and homes, sending valuables clattering off shelves.

The stunned Wyrm lay on his back and tasted his own blood. He was up in fifteen seconds with one thought in his mind.

That. Hurt.

His brother had been the last person to wound him that badly. He might have broken bones in his face.

And yethe twisted around and saw the Dragonlord in the air. Rhisveris howl was followed by a lunge

Teriarch shot up. did a vertical roll, and flew over Rhisveris back. His mouth opened. and he coated Rhisveris entire body in Dragonfire. The screaming Wyrm rolled around and then shouted.

[Crimson Storm of the Blood Demon]!

This time, he unleashed a thousand bolts of lightning which criss-crossed the skies. Teriarch contemptuously dipped one wing.

Dragonlord of Flame! He performed an aileron roll followed by a dizzying diveall pushing the sound barrier, still accelerating as he built up speed. As Archmage Eldavin, so Teriarch.

He was second to none in the skies. He had brought down every foe, even other Dragonlords of the air, with a Fire Dragons speed. Rhisveri was larger, tougherbut he couldnt even begin to catch Teriarch.

The Wyrm saw a flicker, and [Valmiras Comets] began to slam into him as he tried to cast a spell and hit Teriarch. They were more like the lightest of punches thrown by a child, even with the Dragonlords power behind them, but the Dragon kept throwing them.

And he was speeding up again. Rhisveri was in a mortal terror of the second object the Dragon threw at him. All he had to do was swap places with a rock, and the impact could punch a hole through a fort if it were fast and heavy enough.

Or him. The Wyrm began chanting barrier spells, but the Dragon blazed past him like a living comet. He dove low to the ground, one wing snapping out to turn him at an angle. A Garudas Reversal, as precise as a 45 angle. He winced at the pain in his wings. Then the near-vertical ascent, dodging the immortals spellsthey couldnt even catch him with homing spells.

The Harpy Empress diveTeriarchs wings opened as flames shot below him to send him into the stratosphere. And he felt a muscle give.

Oh

Ryoka Griffin hadnt been breathing at the greatest display of aerial combat in this or any world. Right up until she saw Teriarch open his wings, saw one falter and close slightlyand him slam into the ground.

No. No. Slam was not the right word. Slam was hitting a door that closed in your face at a mild jog. Slam might break your nose at the worst.

This? This was a train engine crash. A runaway impact from an airplane crashing into the ground at the speed of sound.

The Brass Dragon twisted as his wings failed to open. He rotatedhit the ground along his backand then went crashing across the ground, head over heels, sideways, wings and face and claws tearing up the dirt.

He skipped like a stone for a thousand feet, hitting the ground each time before he finally slowed, rolled over, and came to a stop.

Dead gods!

Oh. Oh! Oooooh!

Even the other immortals were groaning. Ryoka saw Paxere covering her mouth. Ryoka was half-screaming, half gasping. Was he?

Even Rhisveri looked uncertain. The Dragonlord lay there, mouth slightly openand then he rose. He got to his feet, and Ryoka thought at least one scale had been torn; there was some red on him. Teriarch gazed around dizzily, then whirled to face Rhisveri.

The Wyrm was encased in protective magic. The Dragonlord spoke after merely a half-second. He coughed and then nodded.

Youwell done. You knocked me out of the skies. Few can boast of that, Wyrm.

Rhisveris mouth opened. Ryoka saw him stare at Teriarch, then reply.

No. You did that to yourself.

Nonsense. I felt the spell. I will not underestimate you twice.

The Dragonlords face was completely straight, but Ryoka saw a familiarlook he was trying to hide. Rhisveri saw Teriarch cough into one claw.

Shall we continue? We have both dealt the other a blow. Be warnedmy next attack shall not take you so lightly.

Bluff or not, the Wyrm hesitated. He saw a plume of smoke escaping Teriarchs nostrils, and the Dragonlords eyes burned. Embarrassed he might be, but if he did that again

Had he begun to fight?

What the Wyrm didnt know was that Teriarchs own facade was hiding a world of agony. The Wyrm hesitatedthen snarled.

Looking for mercy now? Show me something to be afraid of, Dragonlord of Flames.

I cant feel my face. He kept swallowing blood, and Teriarch was sure that was not a good sign. Yet the rest of his body was intact. The Dragonlord of Flames crouched as Rhisveri called his bluff. The Wyrm charged, only to realize the mistake of young warriors.

The wounded Dragon only became deadlier. Teriarch flickered, and Rhisveri traced the magic straight up. He looked up. Then up.

Then

Up. The Dragon was still flying higher, flames blasting above him, and the air was growing cold. He was hurt. The Wyrm could kill him.

So. He had flown like this before. The Dragon whispered no magic. He cast no spells. The Wyrm might be his equal in the magic he knew, which twisted like Dryads and had been learned from other immortals.

Yet he had never seen this. He had never fought in wars where Dragons were as footsoldiers in number. Teriarch had seen armies as dreadful as the Seamwalkers he had glimpsed in the lands of the dead.

Death. Blood ran in his lungs like poisonous vapors. He flew higher until the air vanished and the cold sting of starlight burned across his scales.

He flew through the Harpy Wars, roaring. Coming down as Wyrms fled. A charge, alone, with the last three Dragonlords against the Crelers.

He would die when he landed. Not before. The Dragon turned and began dropping through the skies. Claws outstretched.

The air, so cold on his scales, began to warm again as he re-entered the atmosphere. It grew hotbut no hotter than the bursting fury in his chest. It grew hotter still as Dragonfire engulfed him.

A manifestation of his rage. He was wounded. Yet he was the oldest of Dragons. He had seen them all die. He had killed far too many.

The Dragon descended faster. Now, he felt his scales turning to metal. Heavierthe weight of age. Gold was heavier than lead. He was denser still, a meteor coming down to earth.

A Djinni had once seen a Dragons killing blow and copied it. This? Fire and metal. It could wipe out a city.

Or burn a wound across a continent. 

The Elemental of Masks looked up. Some of his masks were cracked, but he barely felt the damage. He looked upand tried to find somewhere to run or hide. But where?

The book. The bookRhisveri was flying upwards, and it seemed like an ocean of magic was distorting the world around him. He was trying to open a hole in the world. Sophridel shook as he looked up.

It was just like the book.

The Dragonlord of Flame took wing. He burned with the last three Dragonlords, gouging a hole across the sands. Across Chandrar. Sand fused to glass. The very desert caught fire, and Wyrms burned, screaming. Eight days and nights, the fire burned. Even now, the wound remains. The Glass Straits, endless miles carved by Dragonfire. 

Down, like armageddon. A blow so powerful it would crack his own bones. The Wyrm had made a mistake. He wasnt fighting Teriarch. He was fighting a memory.

The Dragonlord of Flame was coming. Visophecin pointed, and Menorkel ran into the door he had opened. Everyone was evacuating. Sophridel rushed past Ryoka, flowing in a mass through the door.

Stop!

She had heard them shouting it at Rhisveri after Teriarch had crashed. Ryoka wasnt saying it. She was gazing upwards, head craned back.

Was she smiling? The Devil looked at the young woman insane enough to dance with him, to befriend immortals. He began to understand how she had befriended a Dragon.

Ryoka Griffin. Come with me.

Even Uzine wasnt mad enough to stay in one spot. The Agelum turned, and Visophecin shouted.

Where is Gadrea?

Already gone! Ryoka

I have to stop it. Tell Tyrion Im ashes if he asks. And Erin

The Wind Runner spoke dreamily. Visophecin was so astonished he was too slow. He grabbed for herand she was already leaping into the air. He stared upwards. The climbing Wyrm shrieked at the Dragon carving a blazing path through the skies.

Even the mortals of Ailendamus looked up and pointed at and feared the comet falling to earth. Yet the wind rose, and a Human shouted as she drew her sword.

Neither one could hear her. Ryoka knew that. Even if they could hear the wind howling in their ears, her voice was like a whisper before two colliding planets.

Who could stop them by force? No one. Yet Ryoka flew up, the air tearing at her flesh, trying to get close enough. She had mere seconds as the Faeblade burned with flame.

Yet even plasma seemed paltry before the fiery Dragonlord. Even alien technology could not warp space like the Wyrm twisting through the void.

Ryokas other hand reached down for the only weapon she had. She tore it out from her belt pouch and screamed.

Dragon and Wyrm fight, and both will fall! And upon their bodies, I, Merlin, say to build a castle tall! Upon their bones, in King Arthurs name! Just as plannedOberons twisted game!

She did the rhyming just in case it helped. The single piece of paper tried to tear itself free as she held it aloft. Just asignature. From King Arthur Pendragon.

The most famous Dragonslayer. The Faerie Kings name. But most of allwhat she hoped and prayed a Dragon would remember.

A famous story, yes, from another world. But a famous story about how two Dragons died.

The autograph was just a name. So was the Faerie King. Neither element could stop the collision, but the most primal, instinctive motivation in both Rhisveri and Teriarchs heads might. She thought she saw the Wyrms eye flicker as he shot past her. And she saw that brief, welcome flash of the thing Dragons and Wyrms shared, besides their arrogance, greed, immortality, and pride.

Paranoia.

Atrap. Ryoka felt the searing heat baking her skin and thensuddenlydisappear. The Wyrm twisted in midair, and Ryoka saw a twisted land opening in a cut in the sky aimed at her. A dirt path and a really scared-looking white Gnoll appeared before her eyes as Rhisveri screamed

Traitor!

The dimensional hole vanished. Ryoka saw Teriarch flash down, leveling off and away as Rhisveri howled. She sighed in relief a second before Rhisveris tail slapped her out of the skies.

The Wyrm of Ailendamus came back to his senses as the fear this was all a ploy by Visophecin to get him killedsome long conturned into a realization of what Ryoka had done. He saw Teriarch flapping back and exhaled as he looked up at the vapor trail in the clouds and realized how close hed come to

Then he saw the falling Human and hesitated.

Oh.

He might have broken her ribs. All of them. And he was staring at part of her lungs. From the outside. The Wyrm caught her gently on the tip of his tail. He whispered a healing spell as Teriarch turned to stare at the strange young woman. Rhisveri heard him murmur.

That wasimpressive. Especially for a mortal. Is thatan autograph?

Some might think that the greatest politician, the most implacable, devious, and impossible-to-read being in the world would be a Dragonlord. Orfailing that, perhaps a Wyrm so used to cunning and subterfuge he had built a kingdom to rule in secret. Failing that, what about a being of literal masks, or a Devil?

Whoever thought that was, of course, a fool. For the being whom even Sariant Lambs could not match in the art of faking his emotions was none other than King Itorin II of Ailendamus.

He stood at the windows of his palace where the comet had landed. A comet out of thin air, along with a minor quake.

The moment Itorin had felt the quake, he knew Ryoka Griffin had something to do with it. In that way he had learned to survive his own immortals, he was aware today some judgment was being carried out.

He hadcarefullyexpressed his desire that she live to Rhisveri, but Itorin II had only been able to hope for the best. Now?

The court was ashambles with minor alarm. The [Geomancers] thought something heavy had impacted the ground or an unnatural cause, because this was no tectonic tremor. As for that comet

Every eye was on the King of Ailendamus. And what did he do?

He turned, quirking one lip, and held up a hand, as of a man trying to hide a self-evident smirk.

I must apologize to the royal court. I was aware, of course, of our [Mages] trialing a new spell. They assured me it would be private. Evidently not. The throne shall make its statement later today.

What genius. What improvisation. Just the slight hintthe glance of evident regret and biting of his tongue to suggest hed let slip some secret project in a moment of indulgence, and the court calmed down. The [Spies] composed frantic reports, and Itorin II hoped there would be an afternoon for him to do the cover up in.

He returned to his throne, the lone performer deserving of every award. He hoped Ryoka was alive.

Near-apocalyptic events had a way of diffusing the situation. Once you saw someone actually, accidentally slap the big red button, you reconsidered very quickly whether you actually wanted to get to this point or if there were another way out.

When the Dragon and Wyrms fury cooled, they both had minor heart-attacks at how close theyd both come to killing each other and, more importantly, themselves.

The only person closer to having their heart actually pop out of their chest was Wer, who decided he was never going to use this damn Skill ever again. First the Witch, now?

It was not worth whatever the damn <Quest> was offering.

At any rate, everyone stood down. They waitedmostly watching and commenting on the young woman lying on the ground.

Just push it back in, Paxere.

Push it backits not supposed to come out. Those are her lungs!

Move aside, Ill do it. Is thishealable?

[Restoration]. [Restoration]bodies are incredibly resilient. Her heart stopped onceexploded, ratherand I was able to return her to life.

Canceling my puppeteeringlungs are working. Heart is beating, blood seems to be contained in veins without help. Ribs areone, two, threetheres a bit of bone there. Someone pull it out. [Pain Null] is still working? You would think that if you could heal this, whatever that other Human had with the crossbow bolts wouldnt be so dire.

Indeed. Well, magic has deteriorated to the point where [Stasis Field] was not even an option, apparently. As for freezing a body solidthe aftereffects were so severe even the Potion of Regeneration hadnt fully dealt with the issue when I did a checkup of the individual. The bodily possession did not help, frankly. A Drake was using the other Humans muscles as if they were galas-muscle and possibly starting development in said body. Throw that all together and then have the body try to go back to normal functionality

Fascinating. Gilaw. Stop that. I said, stop

A claw was poking her in the face. Ryoka could see it, but not move her head. Nor, thankfully, feel any pain.

Incidentally, the feeling of someone maneuvering an internal organ back into your body with all the delicacy of someone stuffing a sandwich into a bag was unforgettable. Ryoka Griffin resolved never to buy Barbie dolls or any other toy where you forcibly assembled or disassembled them.

It was only as bad as getting a tooth pulled under anesthesiaaside from the mental trauma. However, unlike modern medicine

I think shes good. Someone, check her body. Not like that, all of you disgustingno younger immortals. Wouldnt [Restoration] have fixed it?

That was Rhisveri. The second voice was familiar. Teriarchs.

Er[Restoration] only assumes a set amount of damage. And it merely restores.

Ah, of course. [Restoration] one more time. Canceling [Pain Null]

A second later, after the scream had finished ringing in the air, Rhisveri spoke very calmly again.

and it is back. Erwhat caused that?

Maybe a stone was lodged in a nerve? Is she still?

Someone poked Ryoka in the head. Azemith, and the worlds ills became so wonderfully inconsequential, and the young woman began giggling.

[Delirious Happiness]. Oh, look. Flip her over. One of the ribs you broke is sticking out her back. The spell must not push it out of the body. Want me to yank it out?

Ah. That might be the culprit. But lets make sure theres no other causes.

Here was the thing. Was this the foundation of all the nightmares and trauma therapy for the rest of her life?

Absolutely. Did she regret her actions?

No. Seeing someone else in that level of pain really brought people together. If only in mutual sympathy. And most importantlywhen Ryoka Griffin got up and assured everyone she felt fine with all the enchantments dispelled, even Gilaw gave her a pat on the head.

There was nothing like watching someone get cracked open like a clam to make a tiny bit of amends. Menorkel looked like hed been sick at least once, and even the Lucifen were a teensy bit sympathetic.

She looked up at Rhisveri and Teriarch. The Wyrm withdrew his head, and the Dragon harrumphed as he realized all eyes were on him again.

I hadapparentlysaved your life once before. Miss Ryoka Griffin? Please understand. To me, this is the first time we have met. Yet I am aware of your deeds.

She looked up into that familiar face and almost asked him to break her ribs again. This was harder still, but Ryoka stared up at the Dragon and nodded.

Iyou did. And we did know each other.

Teriarch looked sadly down at Ryoka.

Indeed? I would say that is astonishing, surprising, and unlikely. But I cannot profess that after that last moment of bravery. I am sorry. I understand this Eldavin has caused you much grief.

He did. I meanhe was confused.

Teriarchs head bowed lower as Rhisveri watched Ryoka with the other immortals. He was longing to jump in, but he had calmed down, vented his pique, and was just observing. Ryoka looked up as Teriarch stared down.

Did I do the right thing?

Hm? Ohyes. I was dead. The backlashsomething occurred. I do not know what, but it must have disrupted the connection enough to slay the host, myself. You brought me back.

He said it gently, even, Ryoka thought, trying to thank her. But there was a note of accusation there he couldnt hide.

If they were in his cave, she would have asked him to explain it to her. Yet the Dragon here did not elaborate. He simply nodded.

I am in your debt. I shall repay it, Miss Griffin. I intend firstly to return you to Izril or the place of your convenience. Allow me a moment tosettle matters.

He glanced at the immortals of Ailendamus, and Ryoka almost nodded. He was so aloof. She called out to Teriarch.

Are you still planning on changing Wistram?

He glanced over his shoulder. It was the only thing she could think to say to him. The Brass Dragon gave her a puzzled look, then a rueful laugh.

Restore it to glory? So that was what I was attempting to do, I assume. No, no. I am pressed withgreater tasks.

She wondered what they were. She wondered if she knew or could help. Yet the Dragon smiled at her in that fake way, and Ryoka almost reached out. She put her hands behind her back.

Then I guess youll make Eldavin vanish too, in time.

Visophecin was listening sharply to their conversation, and Ryoka assumed Teriarch would give her a light response if anything. The Brass Dragons placating smilefroze on his face.

Make him vanish?

Then, Rhisveris returning ire, the writhing pain in Ryokas stomach and urge to blurt out the last message from his daughter, the fear over conflict with Ailendamus

All of it became a side-show to the look of dawning horror in Teriarchs eyes. Pieces, falling together. Rhisveris comments, a familiar namebut that was the thing about arrogance. He had assumed his simulacrum was dead. As if his mistakes were so easy to erase. The immortals of Ailendamus gazed upon the Dragons true moment of fear and realized this new world would be trickier than they thought.

Teriarch had not known Eldavin was alive. Or rather, he had not known Eldavin was him. He had been asleep most of his travel across Izril, and he was not used to the television that was now commonplace in the world.

He also could tell everyone, instantly, that the Dragon and Archmage were not connected. One lookand the Dragon began to be very worried indeed. Very worried, guilty, and tired.

When she saw that, Ryoka Griffin almost burst into tears herself, because that

That was the Teriarch she knew.

My demands yet stand. Ryoka Griffin is to be exiled. Send her back to the palace and then out of my lands.

Without a geas. I must insist. The threat of death is unacceptable.

The Wyrms jaw clenched, but he inclined his head very slowlyall without ever looking at Teriarch.

It occurs to me, purely based on the initial wording of the geas, that emergencies do occur. Psychologically, it would not do for Princess Oesca to inadvertently murder Ryoka Griffin by sending her a [Message] spell. That tends to disrupt development in young minds.

The young woman looked between Dragon and Wyrm.

Rhisveri

Get out of my sight. More pressing matters have arisen. Dragonlord, we shall discuss matters. Alone.

The other immortals didnt like that, but it beat the two brawling. It was the young woman that the Dragon noted. She wanted to say something to the Wyrm, but now was not the time.

When she looked at himhe found himself avoiding her gaze.

They had known each other, that was what his notes told him. He wanted to believe that it had not been much of a relationship. That he had mingled little with the mortals of this age.

Yet he looked at her and saw too many similarities to the other children he had met. It was, then, notable that he never met her eyes. Perhaps he was more afraid of speaking with her than Rhisveri.

Teriarchwill I see you again?

My business on Terandria will not last long. I shall seek you out at least one last time, Miss Griffin. You have my word.

He nodded stiffly to her. The look she gave him before she bowed back was

In silence, she walked back to the palace with Visophecin and the other immortals in tow. The Wyrm and Dragon watched, both pretending to be aloof. Glancing at each other.

Stalemate. Or at least, a mutual understanding that neither could bring down the other without unacceptable cost. Or preparation.

Yet it seemed that even Rhisveri wasnt about to grab a metaphorical half-brick, stuff it in a sock, and come back swinging. The Wyrm spoke, tracing a truth sigil in the air.

I call a truce. Give me five minutes?

The Brass Dragon inclined his head. Rhisveri slithered off towards the palace. He shot into the air and cloaked his body in a moment.

He can turn his entire body invisible. The Wyrm really was good at magic. Even if you had the mana of a Great Wyrm, turning that much mass invisible seamlessly was a trick.

What really rankled Teriarchslightlywas that Rhisveri didnt make any amateur mistakes, like forgetting to hide his shadow or concealing his presence in the clouds.

What was he going for, an artifact? A magical scroll contract? Healing himself?

Paranoia was a terrible thing, and Ryoka Griffin truly had figured out how to unnerve a Dragon and Wyrm. Yet the Dragonlord forced himself to wait, trying to stretch out a wing and accelerate his own healing. The trouble with being so magical was that, while you could put together a Human like a puzzle[Restoration] on a Dragon was more like spitting on a wound and hoping it helped.

The Wyrm returned in three minutes. He came twisting back through the air, landing lightly, and faced the Dragon. They both sized each other up, then Rhisveri deposited something on the ground with his mouth.

Here. One of the small benefits of ruling a nation. I do not propose we do something as mundane as downsize to crack open some ancient vintage likenobility.

He sneered lightly, and Teriarch was glad he hadnt proposed doing just that. He blinked at what Rhisveri had brought.

Namelywhat turned out to be two massive silos, the kind one used in a brewery. Rhisveri had taken two malt beers, and he offered one to Teriarch.

Given the size differential, one was more than enough for Teriarch. He watched Rhisveri use his claw to puncture a hole in the top of one silo, pour the frothing drink into his maw, and drain over half in one gulp. He produced two more silos and set them down next to the Dragon.

Hardly elegant. If he were with another Dragonlord, it might have been wine. Or, depending on the Dragon, a roasted yak. Beer?

Then again, it was fairly sweet, and Teriarch found it novel to drink with his actual body. He was so used to adopting a smaller form that he understood the appeal after several foamy mouthfuls.

Thisis not entirely unpalatable. Does this particular, ah, beverage have a name?

Glassmalt. The theme of Ailendamus, you know? We created enough dedicated barley and hop fields to supply the nation, ohsixty years ago? All vineyards up till then, but the popular drinks werent wine in taverns. So we made an agricultural push.

Ah. Naturally. You know, I did not, in my study of your nation, ever inquire as to why Ailendamus was the Kingdom of Glass and Glory. Why glass?

Rhisveri snorted lightly as he glanced down at his cup. He drank, tossed the first one aside, and reached for another.

Glass? The first cities I personally oversaw featured glass windows in even commonfolk homes. Im sure you know how poorly glass is blown outside of dedicated cities? I merely introduced proper refining techniquesAilendamus doesnt even have that much sand! A decade later, we were supplying glass to nations around the world.

Teriarchs brows rose.

Is that why I noticed so much glass even in Drake cities like Liscor?

Rhisveri looked quite pleased.

Its not all from us. Diffusion over two hundred years means the techniques resurfaced worldwide. But yes, that is likely Ailendamus influence. Its quite a lucrative market[Repair] spells are the best most [Mages] can do, so glass contributes to a substantial amount of our exports to some countries.

I see. You know, it reminds me much of this Chandrarian kingdom I visited, oh, five thousand years ago? They were also glass experts. Glass homesopaque, naturallybut wonderfully colorful from sand. Glass roads, smooth as could be. Glass Golems

It must have been as hot as a volcano there.

Rhisveri commented. Teriarchs brows rose.

Oh, entirely. That was how they destroyed themselves, or so I heard. Someone built an edifice that was too reflectiveand it started melting everything around it. Then that glass became reflective and

Rhisveri chuckled at the notion of an entire kingdom literally refracting itself to destruction.

That is the stupidest construction Ive everno, wait. I can top that.

Indeed?

Rhisveri inclined his head as he glanced sideways at Teriarch. Still slightly challenging, but he kept his tone pleasant. As pleasant as Teriarch was trying to sound. Casual, that was it.

Not that Im a Dragonlord of such age, but I have seen a few amusing buildings in my time. Have you ever seen Sariant Lambs try to build a tower?

No.

Even the Brass Dragon smiled. Rhisveri nodded slightly northeast.

The Lucifen and Agelum love the damn things. Well, Agelum. We had so many at one point that they had an entire colony in secret. When Visophecin tracked them back, he found a damn tower being built by Sariant Lambs out of scrap.

These are Sariant Lambs, yes? Tiny? No opposable digits? No mutations?

Rhisveris mouth opened wide.

None. Imagine a lamb trying to swing a hammer. I dont even know how many casualties they took getting it that high. It was fifty feet tall, and it looked like weather had knocked it over three times.

That is actually ridiculous.

Despite himself, Teriarch felt himself snorting. He was moved to contribute a story of his own.

Ive seen similar stunts, you know. Wyverns have built their own structures.

No. Those inbred lizards?

Ah, the greater species are intelligent, and their royal versions can shapeshift. But regular Wyvernsindeed. It is amazingOgres, trolls, even monkey tribes do far better jobs when they have the time.

Rhisveri chuckled.

I wish I had seen that. It reminds me of when we decided to take apart the damn tower. The Sariants kept trying to fight anyone dismantling it. So I set fire to the building, and they ran around shrieking as if we were broiling them. Sariant Lambs, trying to form a bucket chain

That sounded more like cruelty to Teriarch. And he knew full well that Sariants were the most devious, untrustworthy little monsters you could find as pets. He bared his teeth and chuckled politely.

The Wyrm noticed the forced smile. He took a longer sip from his drink, and Teriarch did the same.

Forgive me. I forgot I was addressing the noble Dragonlord, champion of a thousand kingdoms. Youve probably seen countless cyclical events before.

I would not go that far. Its true that events repeat themselvesbut seldom in the same way. Species love to build tall towersI suppose thats just a general consensus many come to. Height breeding authority and whatnot

Teriarch waved a wing and winced at his sore muscles. Rhisveri nodded, listening. Teriarch went on.

But the way species return to the same idea is always unique. For instance, if you recall our healing of Miss Griffinit was lucky she had no actual galas-muscle or unique bones. Even so, the best [Healer] on Izril is simply capable of casting [Restoration].

Hah. That beats Terandria in large.

The Brass Dragon nodded, smiling ruefully.

Yes, well. Theyve forgotten almost all shapeshifting and bodily manipulation magic too. When I was in Liscor healing that other individualI saw the most extraordinarily muscled Drake. All manually developed.

How muscular are we talking about? If you mean bulky

No, no. I meanhe had muscles along his neck, just sohe didnt just have trapezius muscleswhen I saw him move, his sides had muscles. And his legs! It was like an anatomy course every time he flexed. And he did flex. He even was touting some kind of physical regime with suspended weights. All of this commendable effort when you could justshape muscle.

The Wyrm snorted lightly.

That sounds like modern mortal mindsets. Not that training with blades is wrong

No, of course not. But building muscle? I was almost tempted to tell him to visit Actelios Salash.

He was still the same Dragon. He made the same observations, ignorant of the fact that hed actually said as much before. Teriarch saw Rhisveri was smilingalmost as politely as he was. It was that kind of conversation. Forced amiability over a drink after a fist-fight. If they were anything like mortals. Which they werent.

Galas-muscle, now. I would respect it if the Drake advanced into building that. If he were trying to shapeshift those muscles into his bodyhah! People have tried compressing mana into muscle.

Ive heard and even looked into the practice, but I heard it was ineffective?

Teriarch grimaced. He actually found he was halfway through the silo, so he took another drinkRhisveri seemed to have quite a number in stock.

No, it works. At least, it can work. You could build a body out of galasI didnt, even for my simulacrum, Im sure. Regular muscle. One mistake in building even a strand of it and thats a good way to blow half the scales off your body. Let alone our sinew and bone.

Not worth the risk. Although I noticed you had a bit of a paunch, Dragonlord. Threw out your wings a bit? You might want to do a few laps around a mountain each day.

Teriarch chuckled lightly.

Oh, I intend to. A millenia or two of rest will do that. Although I notice you were fighting head-first. Good form on your striking, but you were entirely too stationary until you grew that forest. Not classically trained in any academy.

There were academies for Wyrms to learn fighting?

Only a few. But those that did take the time to learn avoided the simplistic, natural way of Wyrms fighting. Rather like a self-taught [Barbarian] versus a [Blademaster] practicing non-naturalistic fighting forms.

This time, the Wyrms laugh had a slight edge to it.

Well, I havent had many foes of my caliber before. It was quite the trick you pulled in the sky. Do all Flame Dragons fly like that?

Only myself. It was considered a technique far beyond most Dragons.

I can see why. Watching you smash yourself into the ground like that was the most amazing self-inflicted wound Ive ever seen.

The Brass Dragon took a second to take a longer drink before laughing loudly.

Yes, quite! I could go faster, you know. But I wouldnt have wanted to injure you that severely.

Or yourself. Hahahahaha.

Ohohoho. Quite.

The laughter was getting less natural and more likesomeone imitating the sounds. The Wyrm and Dragon stared at each other over their drinks. The convivial air, never that strong to begin with, faded away. Teriarchs mouth opened wider, showing all his teeth. Rhisveri calmly crunched one of the silos and tossed it to one side while picking up another with his tail.

The Brass Dragon dropped the smile.

Take my Dragonthrone.

No. I dont need it nor want it.

Rhisveri spat, and the Dragonlord of Flame growled.

Dont play games with me, Rhisveri. You wont find a treasure equal to my Dragonthrone anywhere in this world.

I dont want it. Id cherish it if it were a prize taken from you in battle. A gift? A bribe? A patronizing little gesture for the ghosts? Give it to the Sariant Lambs. Ailendamus refuses.

You are arrogant beyond belief.

Teriarch hissed. Rhisveri flicked his tail, rising slightly.

Do you want to try again, elder Dragon? I am not the one feeling my age. Nor will you stop Ailendamus from doing as it wishes.

Do you think your nation is the largest Ive seen burn? Mortals struck down your vaunted armies, my help or not.

The Dragon paced left, and Rhisveri slithered, uncoiling slightly. The Great Wyrm snarled.

If you want to back the other nations, be my guest. Shall we make it a proxy war or will I see you on the battlefield? Ive defeated other Dragons. I fought in the Creler Wars and before that. Do you remember the Silver Dragonknight? I sent him crawling away in battle.

Teriarch snorted a gout of purple flame in amusement, and Rhisveri hesitated, uncertain.

Yderigrisel? He loses to everyone. Lost to. I remember a Necromancer beat him nearly a hundred times in a row. Yderigrisel was a Silver Dragon. Better at escaping or illusions. That idiot wore armor and fancied himself a [Knight]. He was no Dragonlord. Unless you fought him with an army at his back, that would be the last Dragon to boast of defeating.

Rhisveris eyes narrowed.

It must be so convenient to be the famous Dragonlord. No one can ever match the foes youve met, nor live up to some ancient kingdom of Crelercrap that existed two hundred thousand years ago and built Adamantium towers out of mud sticks. You have no right to demand anything of me. I am the last Wyrm.

And I am the last Dragonlord of Flame. I did not come here to make demands on Ailendamus nor you

Oh, no. Just to assume I was a tyrant and tell me to change my ways or face rebellion. Do not prevaricate with me, Teriarch. I understand nuance.

The Wyrm and Dragon narrowed the gap. Teriarch was trying to draw back from another heated exchange, but he was a fire Dragon.

He went in hot.

If you keep conquering Terandria, I will not have to do anything. I came here seeking an ally. You know whats coming back. Deadgods.

He spoke it into the silence, and the Wyrm recoiled. Rhisveri looked at Teriarch, and the Dragons pulse thundered.

Even saying their nature was anathema. Their naturesRhisveri nodded slowly.

I know. Its impossible to fight what doesnt exist yet, though.

There are ways to combat them. On this continent alone, no less. And more, in places even I do not know, hidden. Perhaps the new lands.

If so, Ailendamus will find and use them. We do not want your meddling. My advisors, my allies I trust. Not you. If you had come here with even the shred of humility

I offered you my Dragonthrone.

Your agent killed Fithea, the last Dryad! Ryoka Griffin stole my Scroll of Resurrection and used it on you!

The two roared at each other, so close they could taste each others breath, close to igniting or spraying acid. Teriarch had the sudden desire to copy a trick hed seen the Dragonlord of War do. Which was plant a kiss on the head of a Dragon howling in her face. Then kick the upstart into the sea when they charged.

Not his style. The Brass Dragons voice turned into a low growl, and Rhisveri backed up as Teriarchs body changed again.

Metal scales. Metal eyes. Only this time, it was pure Adamantium. That was what Rhisveri had collided with midair. Flames seethed from the gaps between Teriarchs scales, coating his body in glowing magenta fire.

Listen to me, boy. The Lucifen are not your friends. Do you think theyre fine allies? They twist and manipulate and predate on mortals by their very nature.

You generalize. I expected better of a Dragonlord. Are all species defined by a single individual?

Rhisveri backed up. Teriarch growled as he took a step; he was sinking into the ground with his weight.

I remember all their sins. Ask yourself thiswhere were the Lucifen before they came to Terandria? You dont know, do you? The Infernal Court werent always allies with the Agelum. Did they ever say what drove them into hiding as petty Human nobles?

The Wyrms silence was all the answer Teriarch needed. He hissed.

They were on Rhir. Before the Blighted Kingdom! Before the Crelers! Another failed containment for whatever is buried down there. But unlike the current guardiansthe Lucifen were exiled from Rhir. Do you know how depraved you have to be for that to happen?

Rhisveri backed away, uncertain. Teriarch shifted back to normaleven that was draining, but the effect had worked.

Count your allies alongside your enemies, Great Wyrm. Dont think the Glorious Host is any less dangerous. An Elemental of Masks? A Dryad? Not all of their forests were kind, you know. The mortals drove Treants into the sea to their shame, but some Dryads spilled blood like water and sacrificed innocents upon their groves.

Do not speak of Dryads to me.

The Wyrms voice was deadly calm. Teriarch backed down a stepRhisveri had gone still, and the Dragonlord realized another word on that subject and this would escalate beyond the realms of mere anger.

The two moved apart and glared at each other. Rhisveri spoke first, laying his body like a line in the sand.

Stay away from Ailendamus, Dragonlord. Stay out of my affairs.

Make your peace with mortals and relish your kingdom as it is, Rhisveri Zessoprical. Your nation is grand for this era. I have seen wondrous civilizations burn before threats greater than Crelers. And worse is coming still.

The Dragonlord turned. He spread his wings, and the Wyrm watched him begin to fly away. Rhisveris teeth ground togetherthen the Wyrm shouted.

Dragonlord! WHO IS KASIGNA?

He saw the Brass Dragon flinch in the skies. A head turned, and two ancient eyes burned down at Rhisveri. But the Wyrm saw the fear.

You arent ready to battle them. Not yet. If they find their full fleshmy fire will barely scratch them.

He whirled and soared away. Rhisveri was left staring up at the sky. The Wyrm bitterly drained the last of his drink.

So theres the hierarchy? Mortals before Wyrm, before God?

Rhisveri spat onto the ground, and the venom hissed and bubbled away, eating at the firmament of the world.

In time, neither Dragonlord nor dead specter will threaten my kingdom. Flee back to Izril. Ill even let you have the Wind Runner. She can run wherever she pleases, until all she ever sees will be Ailendamus banners, hanging from shore to distant shore.

If Ryoka Griffin had heard Rhisveris oath, she might have been less surprised by how she left Ailendamus.

Not in a bag. Nor teleported. Nor while being herded through the streets as people spat on her while being beaten with sticks by sock puppets. And yes, amazingly, that was one of the outside options.

Even she was surprised by her exit, though. However, it was entirely in keeping with Rhisveris nature.

Pridebut also cunning. Perhaps Teriarch had forced him to release Ryoka Griffin unharmed. Somehow, she thought that this had been planned from the outset.

Especially because it was no easy task to convene thousands of peoplein the throne room, no less. Ryoka stared at her bare feet and wished, for the first time in her life, shed put on shoes.

Viscount Visophecin looked surprisedor he had in the first moment when shed been summoned. Now, he watched her from the ranks of Ailendamus nobility.

Queen Oiena of Ailendamus had a smile on her lips, but her eyes were searching Ryokas face. Yet it was King Itorin II who spoke and beckoned Ryoka as Oesca and Ivenius stood next to the throne.

Oesca had her hands folded in her dress, very demurely. Ivenius jiggled slightly with impatience, but hed done quite well.

Baron Regalius had spoken for nearly ten whole minutes, and in royal time, that was a lot. Ryoka Griffin walked forwards in a bit of a daze.

Um. What was going on here? Dame Chorisa, standing among the many [Knights] flanking her approach to the throne, looked like she felt like she was having a fever dream.

Such was Rhisveris plan. King Itorin II spoke into the silence.

We recognize the Wind Runners exemplary service in no less than our personal token of esteem, to be granted from our own hand. Kneel, Courier Griffin.

She kneltsomeone would have kicked her in the legs otherwise. Ryoka stared up at Itorin as he accepted a medal made half of glass, the other half of some shining metal representing glory. He placed it around her neck, and the applause and cheering began on cue.

Ryoka Griffin stared at the Signet of Glass and Glory and then at Itorin II. He gave her a rueful smile of amusement before he schooled his expression and rose.

And that was how Ryoka Griffin left Ailendamus. Exiledand also with the highest medal of honor dangling around her chest.

Because, like Itorins ability to bluff, Rhisveri had a simple choice. Pretend Ryoka had been a mistake, an enemy, and all the things shed done had been out of his control.

Or pat her on the head and claim her deeds as Ailendamus own. Not least of which was muddling the claims of House Veltras and Archmage Eldavin.

It was really, really going to make Ryokas life complicated. And that, she thought privately, was probably the principle reason the Wyrm had done this.

She might never return. Viscount Visophecin walked her towards the border after a silent ride in his portal-door.

You have guests waiting for you, Ryoka. Time will tell whether or not you answer Rhisveris demands. I trust you will. It behooves Ailendamus to haveinterestingmortals like yourself in its company. I believe even Rhisveri understands this.

It was the most straightforward way of saying things Ryoka could expect from the Lucifen. She turned, and Visophecin held out a hand. Ryoka shook it.

Ill try. IIll come back, Visophecin. Once Ive settled my debt. I hope Ill be welcome. I want to make amends and

And. The Lucifen nodded, and Ryoka took one more look at the strange kingdom of Ailendamus. Terrible, gloriousand she wondered if Rhisveri were out there, watching her leave.

She walked, slowly, towards the border, glancing up at the sky every now and then for a flash of crimson lightning.

None came. Nor sock puppet. Nor Wyrm in any other form or fashion. When she looked backVisophecin was gone too.

Was it all over? Ryoka felt disbelief, sadness for her meeting with Teriarch, uncertainty for the future, and general worrystandard emotionsrunning through her veins. And she saw a reflection of that in the group of people she saw gathered as she climbed a small hill, waiting for her.

Lord Tyrion Veltras and the Five Families saw the Wind Runner slow as she jogged forwards. Pellmia pointed, and Buscrei shouted.

There she is! Look at the damn traitor! Put five arrows in her and lets go home!

She loosed an arrow, and Ryoka yelped as the shaft thunked into the ground a good ten feet wide of her, but Buscrei was already riding forwards. Swey, grinning, followed. But it was Lord Tyrion Veltras who got there first.

Ryoka Griffin stared up at the young man sitting in his saddle.

Uh

She didnt recognize him for a moment. Who was this guy? Jet black hair, a serious face, dark blue eyes

Then she realized who it had to be. Only, instead of the middle-aged man, she found herself looking at a younger man, under thirty years.

Tyrion Veltras dismounted as Ryokas mouth opened and stayed there. She had known about Dionames last gift to Tyrion, but seeing him up close?

Ryoka. I imagine I lookdifferent. I was apparently made more youthful. ByPellmias Skill.

The [Lord of Love and Wine] sighed as Ryoka Griffin turned her gaze to himthen caught onto the lie. She goggled a second, then blurted out what she needed to say.

Tyrion! Im sorry that I gotSammials fine. Hes with two Couriers and headed to Izril.

Yes. He arrived in First Landing four days ago. He is in our peoples care. Miss Ryoka. Good job.

Jericha rode over, lookingwell. Almost as bewildered by recent events as everyone else. She actually nodded to Ryoka, and the Wind Runner hung her head.

She was going to apologize to Tyrion for, well, everything that had happened since Pellmias manor was attacked. Explain, or try to, how she had ended up on Ailendamus side. Say something about this war, the death, the bloodshed, and her culpability in all of it.

Tyrion beat her to the punch. The younger man removed his helmet and then, adjusting his armor slightly, sank down to one knee.

Oh no. Oh, dead gods.

Ryoka turned white. Before anything else could happen, Pellmia kicked Tyrion in the back slightly. The [Lord] turnedthen coughed and stood back up.

He stared at the sky, then at Ryoka, then glanced at his cousins, who were watching him with both deep reservation, and, at least for Buscrei, great excitement. It could be terrible, despite all their advice.

It could be gloriously horrible or great. The [Lord] spoke after a moment, looking Ryoka straight in the eye.

I have a number of things I would like to discuss with you, Ryoka. But I feelrather foolish at this moment in time.

She blinked at him, and Tyrion went on, staring at Ailendamus quiet borders. At leastfor now. The war was going on, but here was House Veltras last quarry. He glanced at his hands, felt the youthful energy in his body and a far weaker class hovering above him.

I set out to right a wrong, in my eyes. A simple cause that demanded no further inquiry beyond the need to act. NowI must ask myself a question. Did I make everything worse for my people? Did I do what was best? Could I have saved more lives, done better, another way?

He glanced at her, and Ryoka Griffin saw, to her amazement, Tyrion flush.

Forgive me. This is my responsibility. I set out to make the world better in some small way, and I do not know if I did. I hope you are well. I fear I had little involvement in your trials.

This was not what hed meant to say to herbut it was exactly why Pellmia sighed in relief. Ryoka Griffin stood there, looking at Tyrion, and in his guilty expression, the uncertain look in his eyes, the difficult future

Well. She sighed and nodded.

I know what comes next. At leastfor me.

Oh?

The [Lord] of House Veltras waited, hopefully, and Ryokas smile was entirely crooked as the Wyrm watched her covertly. He saw her look down at her feet, brush some hair blowing into her face, and then reply.

What you do next, Tyrion, islie.

Lie?

His face turned to ice, but Ryoka went on.

You lie. To other people, but yourself as well. You saynext time. Next time, Ill do it better. Next time, I wont make as many mistakes. Then, of course, you do them all over again.

Ryoka looked back over her shoulder at Ailendamus.

I really thought I was on the right track for a second. Its hard to really change. Next time

She broke off.

I guess Ive got to try again. So. What happens now?

She looked at the members of the Five Families. Lord Tyrion Veltras gazed at Ryoka and then nodded to Jericha and the others. He turned and pointed south. A ship was waiting for them in Calanfers ports.

We go home.

The company sighed, and the Five Families immediate part in the war was over. The Wind Runner looked up, and Pellmia gave it a perfect score.

Just 10/10. 11/10, really, not on an objective basis, but for the people involved specifically. He was about to rest easy, levelless, but content in the future, when Lord Tyrion turned.

Would youcare to ride side-saddle with me on our journey back, Ryoka?

Pellmia eyed Ryokas expression, and Buscrei and Swey began laughing so hard they both nearly fell out of their saddles. And yetthe [Lord of Love and Wine] had to admit

It was a start.

Authors Note: 20,000 words.

They were harder to write than twice that much last chapter. Not because the other chapter was easierbecause I was far, far, far more tired for this one.

Thats the energy-flow of a web serial. You have to manage it like a gauge in a video game. If I draw too heavily one chapter the next has a deficit.

However, I am content with a shorter chapter because, as I said, not needing to push for 30,000 or even 24,000 per chapter lets me regain power. I only wish I could do it Dragonball Z style and scream in a field for an hour. Or do it like Kirby and half of manga protagonists and eat weird food.

Alas, all I get is energy from good sleep, healthy eating, exercise, and wholesome activities. Bleh. Thats all from meI hope you enjoyed this semi-follow up to last chapter.

Can you believe I thought this all would fit in the last chapter? Even with cuttingwell, thats classic me. See you next time! Not sure when Im taking my break, but theres that AMA on the 26th, so itll definitely be around then.

Take it easy!

Outside The Wandering Inn by tobinkusuma!

Stink Squad by pkay!