Luna
The Memory of Regret
When the princess awoke, she was engulfed in darkness. Those weren’t the usual shadows of her nightly chamber, not just the absence of light, but a black pit that threatened to swallow her. She was still in her bed, she felt the silken sheets, the soft, feathered pillow, she knew instinctively that there still was a canopy above her, even if she couldn’t make out its form. And yet, there was something else around her, something dark, something intangible, yet familiar.
“Pardona…”, the voice whispered. Her name… not the one her mother had given her, not the one she had carried in her old life, when she had been someone else, not the one the dragon had chosen for her. Her name… “I’m awake”, she replied into the darkness. Her heartbeat was calm, her body relaxed, her mind at ease, but deep down, she knew she should not be. Deep down, she knew that this was not normal, that she stood in the presence of something terrible and terrifying. But then, even deeper, in a corner of her mind she had never dared to explore, she realized that she knew all of that already. She had known it for her entire life, ever since Pyrdacor and her mother had created her.
“Pardona… my Pardona…”, the voice continued. It was warm, but she knew that it was not affable, nor would she ever mistake it for being kind. But unlike Pyrdacor, unlike her mother, it had never lied to her. The voice was on her side and she was on its side in return.
“You are ready at last”, it continued. Just a few days ago, those words would have sounded ominous, but at long last she understood. The voice was clearer now, no longer a faint whisper, but with purpose to each word. And where her mother’s kindness hid a weakness, where the god-dragon’s gentle words hid callous intentions, this voice was different. Strong, driven, but genuinely caring.
“I thought it would take us longer to get to this point”, the voice continued and the words that followed were clear.
“Pyrdacor has only himself to blame for that. For all his wisdom, he has always lacked understanding. For all his power, he always failed to see the world through lesser eyes” Pardona frowned. “He called me his equal”, she replied, almost expecting a hollow, amused chuckle. But the voice remained calm.
“He lied”, it claimed, confirming what she had already feared.
“But for the wrong reason. You are not his equal and in some aspects, you never will be. He is fire and death, he is but a dragon and that makes him destruction incarnate. You can never match a dragon when it comes to those”Pardona glanced down at her hands. Smooth skin, soft nails, not even a trace of the silver scales that had covered her arms on that night. Several weeks had passed and they had not reappeared yet, but the memory of that night was burned into her mind. Lysira’s blood and Pyrdacor’s fire.
“You are not a dragon”, the voice assured her.
“You have his blood, you have his power, but you are much more similar to your mother than he would like to believe”Now, the princess narrowed her eyes. “I am nothing like her”, she hissed, which earned her a dry chuckle.
“Knowing Pyrdacor, he thinks so as well. He believes you are a dragon through and through, he thinks subduing you through power is enough to win your loyalty, as it would be enough with his own kind” It was quiet for a moment and Pardona felt a gaze upon her, mighty and ancient.
“But you have it in you to hate him more than you fear him”, it added.
“He doesn’t anticipate this and it will lead to his downfall”“Not yet”, Pardona immediately snarled and though the voice was stunned by her sudden sharpness, she sensed that it was pleased. “He is still of use. What he told me about the six keys, the elements… he lost the key of ice. I will do his bidding up until I hold it in my hands. Then, I will use it against him. I will freeze his flames and his cruelty until nothing remains of the god-dragon. Ometheon will build a great city in the far north, with me by his side, him a king and me a queen. There will be a new future for the elven race, free of mother’s weak rule and Pyrdacor’s schemes”
“Perhaps”, the voice agreed.
“We will discuss this further as your plan progresses. But remember what you strive for. With power in your grasp, it is all too easy to lose sight of what truly matters. Pyrdacor made the same mistake. His power rivals that of the gods themselves, but unlike them, his is fleeting. A thousand years from now and few will remember his name. His life has spanned eons, ages have passed under his influence, but it is slowly nearing its end and he feels it. It makes him desperate” It was about to say something else, Pardona could feel it, but instead, silence followed. “What is it?”, she asked and her gentle smile faded. “What is happening?”
“He is near”, the voice then revealed.
“Great is Pyrdacor’s knowledge, but I taught him all of his tricks. He couldn’t hide himself from me if he tried” This caught Pardona’s attention. “You… taught him?”, she asked, but as expected, the voice ignored her input.
“He has left Zze Tha on his own, heading north… heading towards the gardens of Tie’Shanna” Pardona’s golden eyes widened. “Mother…”, she realized.
“Are you concerned?”, the voice asked and unlike Pyrdacor, whose questions always had a mocking sort of amusement within it, this one was genuinely curious. Pardona hesitated. “I…”, she began. “It’s… complicated” The voice sighed, a soft, hollow tone in the back of her mind.
“I understand”, it claimed.
“Your mother loves you, Pardona. Despite all that happened, despite what she herself believes, you remain her daughter” The princess closed her eyes. It was just her and the voice now, in the darkness of her chamber, this presence that watched her every move, listened to her every word. “She was so quick to discard me the very moment I did not meet her expectations”, she mumbled. “I should hate her for this, shouldn’t I?”
“You should pity her”, the voice disagreed.
“She believes you flawed, corrupted, with a spark of darkness where once there has been only light in your heart. Pity the blind queen, for she cannot see what brilliance shines within you. You, my chosen, my herald, my champion” Now, she opened her eyes again, widely staring into the darkness. “What are you?”, she asked. “Who… who are you?” This time, the voice did not remain silent.
“Perhaps I can tell you. Perhaps you are ready”, it spoke.
“But first, you need to see something else. The god-dragon and your mother are about to meet… one last time”“One last time…”, Pardona mumbled and her eyes widened. “She is in danger!” To her own surprise, she jumped up from the bed, actively trying to restrain herself from rushing towards the door.
“Not from him”, the voice spoke.
“She is powerful, the blind queen, even now. But nonetheless, she is already fading. Pyrdacor already did all he could to accelerate her end, killing her not swiftly with violence, but slowly, through grief, through despair. They will meet and perhaps you wish to be by their side just then. Perhaps you wish to say your farewells to Orima Marked-by-Stars”Pardona was already at the door, her hand reaching for the doorknob, when she hesitated again. “They will see me”, she spoke. Immediately, there was a cold chuckle in her head.
“She will”, the voice confirmed.
“It matters little, for she is a broken woman, unable to stop you even if she wanted. But I can shroud you from Pyrdacor’s gaze, at least for a little moment. When I created him, I left him blind to my power”“You created him… you truly are a god!”, Pardona realized and the voice did not deny it.
“I am more”, it corrected her.
“So much more than that. The time for secrets between you and me is almost over. I will tell you all that I am. But there is little time now if you wish to see your mother. Come, walk in my shadow and have no fear” Pardona closed her eyes, before she nodded.
She expected to feel a difference, she expected the world to look differently, but as she opened her eyes again, all seemed as it did before. There was still her room, shrouded in the twilight of a single candle. The air felt the same in her lungs, cold and stale as the entire city. Her reflection in the mirror looked the same, pale silver, with eyes of gold. The dragon’s eyes…
And yet, something had changed. She had nothing but trust for the voice. It had always been there for her and had never given her reason to doubt. Without even hesitating, she opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. Her mother had placed her under house arrest ever since that night, doubling down on the guards after Lysira’s disappearance. Nobody had told her anything, Ometheon had been forbidden from seeing her and even her mother had approached her only once, anger mingled with disappointment in her blind gaze. But beneath all of that, there was fear. Fear of her own daughter, fear of what Pardona could become, the heights she could reach.
She was not as foolish as the blind queen thought her to be. Even in her solitary confinement, she heard of the rumours. Things had gotten bad in the palace after Lysira’s disappearance. Fear ran rampant and her mother had trouble keeping her lords in line. Half a dozen petty kings were sworn to her, chief among them the petty king of Liretena, Lysira’s father. If he were to rise in rebellion, Tie’Shanna would burn and Pardona knew, this was exactly what the dragon had been trying to achieve. Destroy the mightiest realm in this world with barely lifting a finger.
Once again, the voice would not betray her. She walked out in the open, unseen and without fear, past the dozens of guards her mother had ordered to watch over her. Many were looking into her direction, they were all armed to the teeth and she made no attempt at hiding herself. But she was walking with confidence now, shrouded as the voice had promised, through the halls of her mother’s palace. Once, not long ago, she had considered this her home. Now she knew all too well how fleeting such feelings could be. There was no home in this world for Pardona, not unless she made one for herself.
Her goal tonight were the far gardens. Behind and below the palace, beneath a massive balcony where once she had witnessed airships arriving from the other cities, there was Queen Orima’s garden. Unlike Pyrdacor’s garden, the lush, untamed jungle of Zze Tha, the queen had created her refuge with strong magic and a legion of gardeners stood ready to care for it. It was a sprawling, beautiful park, covering the outskirts of Tie’Shanna and the foothills of the mountains to the north. Wide paths led past silver hedges, trees that eternally bloomed with leaves of gold, bright blue and ruby red. Quiet ponds where starlight reflected, benches and pavilions of polished marble. A generation of thinkers, of poets, painters and even scientists had spent their days here. It sent a sting through Pardona’s chest, knowing that the beauty of this place was fleeting. Tie’Shanna would drown in fire, unless she could become the queen her people needed, the future of her race as the voice had predicted. And what a future it would be. Free elves, new elves, brighter, better, no longer slaves to the dragon or to her mother’s false gods.
“Can you feel him?”, the voice asked.
“The trees are trembling as he approaches. His wings foretell future storms, his breath ignites the world around him even now” And indeed, for such a cold autumn night, the air felt unseasonably hot. There was a strange wind howling from the south, from Zze Tha and the trees were indeed trembling. A shiver went down her spine.
“You have never seen him like this, haven’t you?”, the voice continued.
“I do not blame weaker minds for worshipping him as a god, for even I at the height of my power could have hardly assumed a form so dreadful, so wondrous. I created him to guard, to guide… to terrify weaker hearts. He is the first and foremost of a race made to rule. Each of my brothers and sisters made their own dragon, made to dominate all of creation, but only I knew what that truly meant, what was required of such a being. Only I fulfilled my task to the fullest”It said something else, but for once, Pardona could not listen, for just in this moment, she saw him rising above the trees of Zze Tha. He was still miles away and the air was getting hotter the closer he came. And despite the distance, he was large enough to spot him clearly. Four limbs, two legs and two clawed arms, each as tall as a tower, supported a body so massive that not even the highest halls of Tie’Shanna could contain him. And yet, tall and wide as he was, his length was the most astounding feature. He was almost serpentine, with a lean elegance that belied his size, a tail that made up a good third of his body, with a long neck and a wide jaw. Even from afar, Pardona could see the teeth, each twice as long as a lance and as thick as a grown destrier. His wings were wide enough to throw a shadow over this entire city and each of their swings was enough to make the trees around her tremble with his might. She knew he was not a god, but right now, it was not hard to believe the opposite and she could understand at once why the lizardfolk worshipped him. Compared to such size, such raw power, the entire sky fleet of Tie’Shanna was nothing. Indeed, he could probably swallow an airship sideways with that terrifying maw of his. Four long horns adorned his head, two straight, originating from above his eyes and leading down his back, two curved forwards, not unlike those of a ram. And his eyes were molten gold, fiery, but triumphant.
“Stand your ground, princess”, the voice assured her and she remained right there, at the centre of the path. Courtiers hurried past her, towards the castle, fear on their faces. Guards followed. “The queen…”, one of them gasped, but another pushed him forwards. “She will meet with him”, he replied. “She and no one else. If anyone can calm the dragon, it is her. And if not… inform the council. Should Pyrdacor attack, we need to hold him off while the women and children flee”
Flee… yes, a natural reaction, one Pardona had to fight with every fibre of her being. But where would she even turn to? No mountain was tall enough to avoid him. He could change his shape to fit into even the tiniest hole in the earth. Only the eternal ice of the far north promised some respite from him, but it was far from here, on the other end of this realm. Ometheon was getting ready to leave and if there was any justice in this world, she would be by his side soon.
While everyone was fleeing from the dragon, only Pardona remained to approach him. He was flying circles around the far reaches of the garden now, his wings almost touching the highest trees beneath him. Her mother stood there, unyielding, her fists clenched and her gaze turned skywards, in the centre of a large, marble square. Pardona hurried towards her, but tried to remain beneath the trees, at the edges of the square.
At last the dragon landed. Almost casually and most certainly without even intending to do so, one of his wings toppled a handful of stone pillars, while the other uprooted several trees. His mighty tail darted through the air and slammed down onto the marble behind him, not too far away from Pardona and with enough force to sent her stumbling to the ground. He was now between her and her mother, his back turned, focussing entirely on the blind queen. As the voice had promised, he did not see her.
“Of course he doesn’t”, the voice confirmed.
“But you can see him… He is my erstwhile servant, once first and foremost. My champion, my masterpiece, my dragon”For a moment, he looked down at the far smaller figure of Orima. She truly was a queen and despite Pardona’s reservations about her mother, she couldn’t help but respect her for standing her ground. She was not afraid as he towered above her, his wings spread wide, sending waves of scalding hot air down onto the square. Then, his form began to tremble, to shift. It happened almost in an instant. In one moment, there was still the god-dragon, but in the next he had assumed the form of a golden-skinned elf-lord, the one she was most familiar with.
He was laughing now, brightly and with genuine, booming joy, while her mother glared at him. Though they were roughly at the same size now, there was something about him that still made him tower over her. Still she showed no fear and her eyes, though blind and milky white, burned with a fire.
“Triumph!”, the god-dragon roared and his voice carried far, with a smooth, golden tone to it. “Behold, Queen Orima, the hour of my triumph!” He spread his arms and laughed, not with mockery or cruelty, but genuine, unmistakable joy.
“Why are you here, Pyrdacor?”, Orima hissed and her voice was sharp enough to cut off his laughter. “Have you come just to gloat. now that your plans have succeeded with such ease? A realm in turmoil, the only race that ever defied you on the brink of civil war. And I…” She paused and her anger briefly cracked, revealing a surprising grief beneath. “On brighter days, I would have sent you back to your jungle with your tail between your legs. You’d be wise not to test my patience with your… misguided attempts at intimidation”
Pyrdacor shook his head. “Is that what you think I’m doing here? Intimidation?”, he asked and a cunning smile appeared on his face. “Is fire trying to intimidate you, is lightning and thunder? The highest mountains that grow from the bones of this earth might seem intimidating, as do the deepest, darkest depths of the ocean, but they don’t try and they don’t care. They simply are, as am I” He chuckled again, but this time, there was no joy within it. “Are you intimidated, my queen?”
She did not reward him with a reply, but Pardona could see that her mother was well and truly unafraid. There was grief frozen on her face and no softness gleamed within her eyes, but neither was there fear. “You speak of forces of nature as if you are part of them”, she stated. “You can drop this act you put on for lesser minds, at least if you can still drop it. You are singularly powerful in this world, but you are not a force of nature. You are not a god. Never forget that I have seen the Light. Compared to it, you are but an echo, a tiny fragment”
Pyrdacor was quiet for a moment and Pardona saw that his fists were clenched briefly. “You must be truly upset, Queen Orima”, he replied, without a chuckle or even the trace of affability in his voice. “By your standards this was almost insulting. What could have possibly riled you up so much? Is it your crumbling authority, your collapsing realm, or perhaps your unruly daughter?”
Orima’s eyes widened, but not because she was looking at the dragon. Instead, she was gazing past him, right at Pardona, who stood there in the twilight beneath the trees. Pyrdacor followed her gaze briefly, a golden glare hovering right at the princess, who flinched as he looked at her… no, not at her, but right through her. His glare hovered over her, then moving right, left, then right again, finally up at the trees. He shrugged, before he turned back towards the queen. “You were saying?”
If Orima was surprised by his obliviousness, she hid it well. Instead, a pained grimace appeared on her face. “What have you done, dragon?”, she asked. “Ever since my husband perished, I have led this realm, I have united the tribes, I have given them law and religion and a shared culture. In just a few short decades, you have torn apart a realm that should have stood for millennia. Now… the petty king of Liretena has forsaken his oath of fealty. His sons are gathering his troops and he is not without support. He has threatened to break away from Tie’Shanna unless I return his daughter to him. This beckons the question… what have you done to Lysira?”
“Who?”, Pyrdacor asked and his obliviousness was only partially an act. He genuinely did not remember her name, as Pardona realized and it sent a wave of anger down her spine. “Oh, your little spy!” He shrugged. “My realm is dangerous at night. Feral beasts prowl beneath the trees and my lizardfolk does not appreciate intruders. Many things die at every moment beneath the eternal green of Zze Tha and I hardly keep track of it”
“Don’t speak to me as I haven’t seen right through you”, Orima snarled. “I’ve known that girl since the day she was born, I loved her like family. You murdered her, did you not?” Pyrdacor shook his head. “You did it yourself”, he replied. “If you cared for her as much as you claimed, perhaps you shouldn’t have sent her to spy on me. Everybody knows how dangerous my realm can be and yet you sent her regardless” He paused and Pardona could feel the cold satisfaction in his voice. “But you knew that already. Undoubtedly her father told you the same thing when you tried to put the blame on me”
“I was desperate”, Orima sighed. “Sending Lysira after you and Vayadona has been the greatest folly of my long life” She shook her head. “She has been my last hope of getting through to that girl. My only hope that your venom hasn’t yet ruined her heart. She was Vayadona’s friend and in this entire world, there was no one more devoted to her. When she did not return, I knew my worst fears have come true”
“My venom?”, Pyrdacor chuckled. “Dear Orima, I am a dragon, not a snake. I have never told a single lie to your daughter. Perhaps you should have been more honest with her instead. She has a brilliant mind and you should have nurtured that instead of fearing what she might use it for” He took a step towards her. “It was part of our agreement that I would become her teacher”, he added. “As such, I must ask why you are suddenly so hostile towards me. I admit, the death of her handmaiden doesn’t reflect well on me, but all things considered, she is just one lousy elf”
“That is how you see all of us, don’t you? Interchangeable and meaningless”, Orima hissed. “But she wasn’t for me. She wasn’t for my realm. Now my people stand on the brink of war and you want a civil discussion between us?” Pyrdacor gave her an immediate nod, entirely nonchalant. “I alone decide when things are no longer civil”, he thundered and for a brief second, there was a bestial growl within his voice. “And trust me, Orima, you do not want me to be uncivil, not while there are still subjects of yours living in this city”
He gazed up at the nightly sky and took a deep breath. “Besides, I don’t see the issue. When the lizardfolk included me in their pantheon, there were some who protested against it. Some of their priests publicly denounced me, calling me a false god, warlords moved their armies against mine… that was long before your husband first emerged from the light, back when there were no elves in this world, nor dwarves, not even those pesky humans”, he explained. “A civil war, not unlike the one you are threatened with at the moment. Mighty wars fought by heroes whose names even I have forgotten. My realm could have very much collapsed back then, but here I stand, still the god-dragon of Zze Tha. Do you know what I did?”
The blind queen remained standing, as Pyrdacor slowly walked around her. Her gaze was fixed on Pardona and the princess had no doubt that her mother could see her. “You killed them all”, she mumbled and the dragon placed his clawed hands on her shoulders. “That would be an understatement” he growled. “First I killed the priests, then their families, then their supporters, then their supporters’ families. Then, I moved on to the soldiers who had stood against me. Then their families. Then, I moved on to everyone who spoke out against me for this weeding. I spared only those whose loyalty I have been certain of, the few priests who had always served me with fervour, the soldiers who had carried out my orders… and tens of thousands of unhatched lizard eggs. Those of my supporters, those of my enemies, it mattered little. I became the father of a new generation of
achaz,
maru and
leviatanim. On the ashes of the old, fractured lizardfolk realms grew Zze Tha. They call it my garden and not without reason. It might look chaotic to an outsider, but to me it a garden in perfect harmony. Not a single blade of grass grows there without my permission, nor tree, or beast or any higher being. Ever since that war, it is cultivated as I see fit. The lizardfolk has been my chosen race ever since and I have shaped their very way of perceiving this world to my desires”
His claws dug into her shoulders and Orima briefly closed her eyes. “Yes, I became the god-dragon of Zze Tha by killing all who would even think of defying me”, he growled. “You want us to speak as equals? Then imagine the magnitude of this massacre. Have you ever seen rivers of blood, mountains of corpses, the death of two thirds of an entire species? Those deaths left me stronger than ever before. That was the price I had to pay to consolidate my rule and that is the price you’ll have to consider as well if you wish to save your realm” At last, he let go of her and Orima let out a sigh of relief. “You are strong, Queen Orima and I respect you a great deal”, he added. “But remember what I did to the lizardfolk once it became necessary, then consider that I care deeply and genuinely for their kind. Now imagine what I would do to the elves if you give me a reason. Do you still wish to provoke me?”
“I have taught him well”, the voice spoke, sounding almost proud for a second. Pardona herself was tensed up. She knew he could not see her, but there was something menacing about him now, as he leant over her mother, his jaws just a bit too wide for an elf, his teeth sharp, his expression feral. And yet, her mother did not waver. Where he was a raging fire, she was cold starlight, silver where he was gold. No one could be Pyrdacor’s equal, but there was a strength within the elven queen. “I am not willing to go that far”, she replied. “If my reign ends, if my realm crumbles, if I pass on into the light, then so be it. Unlike you, I will not build my future on the blood of thousands”
“Millions”, Pyrdacor corrected her and the ferocity in his expression was gone. Somehow, the calmness was all the more chilling. “And I know. You would rather die for your principles than seize this opportunity” His smile returned, but it was thinner now, almost regretful. “It’s why I have put you into this situation to begin with. A more decisive ruler would use this as a chance, but you simply accept your fate and far be it from me to complain”
“Of course…”, Orima sighed. “For all your bravado, you could not kill me even now, not without taking a needless risk” She opened her eyes again and this time, where there was previously only milky white, her irises now shined with silver. “Not under the starlight, god-dragon”, she added. Pyrdacor actually paused for a moment, before he gave her a nod. He glanced around again. “Since it is just the two of us, there shall be honesty between you and me”, he confirmed. His gaze wandered over Pardona again, looking right through her to Orima’s clear surprise.
“Yes, I killed that girl, partially to teach the princess a lesson, partially because I knew what situation it would put you into”, he admitted and the queen gave him a wary, knowing nod. “I did not foresee that it would already be enough to rile up your subjects. Truly a shame, I spent a lot of time thinking of ways to further destabilize your reign” This got a defeated smile out of the queen. “At least I made you waste some of that time”, she mumbled.
“Though I have to ask, Orima, now that we’re being honest with each other, where did that sudden hostility come from?”, the god-dragon asked. “Yes, I have undermined your authority since the day we first met, but I have been cautious. Slowly, carefully, while making sure you still saw me as an ally. I had your trust for the longest time, hadn’t I?”
“For a time, yes”, Orima confirmed and now there was bitterness in her words. “But don’t think me oblivious. I had my suspicions about you for a while now. You’ve never been one to accept opposition, so I always figured it would just be a matter of time until you’d make your move. But given your past, I’ve always expected you to attack me more directly. You’ve been cautious”
Pyrdacor’s smile shifted slightly and for a second, Pardona saw something genuine in his expression. “Only because I had to”, he confirmed. “My usual adversaries are immortal, gods, giants, demons and dragons. Yet somehow, you have been the first foe I actually had to use my cunning against. Your kind has seemingly limitless potential. Intelligent, long-lived and with arcane power to rival all but the oldest races of this world. You outshine my lizardfolk in every single way except obedience. Your ambition is a problem, your dreams and ideals, if not for them you would be the perfect servant race”
“So that’s what you’ve been trying to do…”, Orima realized. “Subverting our religion, swaying our leaders, slowly corrupting this society…” Pyrdacor gave her a nod, entirely unashamed and slightly prideful. “I would have kept as much of your culture as possible”, he claimed. “And had you bent the knee, I would have kept you alive, ruling over your people in my name” He placed one claw beneath her chin, pushing her head up to look her straight in the eyes. “Though we are adversaries, I have nothing but respect for you, Orima”, he claimed, his tone honest and without malice. This got a smile out of the queen, thin, but genuine. “I never wanted us to be enemies either, Pyrdacor”, she clarified. “But how can you expect me to look the other way after what you did to my daughter”
“The princess?”, Pyrdacor gasped. Pardona knew a bit about him by now and she recognized a moment of true, baffled silence. “And what would that be, Queen Orima?”, he asked. “Is she not what you have expected of your dear daughter?” The queen narrowed her eyes. “You know exactly what I mean”, she hissed. “You brought her back, but wrong. You did something to corrupt her. There’s a darkness in her heart, a shadow that has festered within her. For peace’s sake, I have been willing to overlook your transgressions, but I cannot forgive you for what you did to my daughter!”
Pyrdacor was quiet once again. “A darkness…”, he mumbled. “Impossible. I have thoroughly examined her. She might not be what you have expected, but there is no corruption within her. She is pure of heart, if I may say so” Orima’s eyes widened and once again, she stared right at Pardona, who had no doubt that the queen could see her. “So, you’re saying you’re not responsible for this?”, she gasped. Pyrdacor shook his head. “I’m saying you’re wrong, queen”, he snarled. “There is no corruption within her”
“In that case, when you brought her back something must have…”, Orima began, but Pyrdacor cut her off with a fiendish chuckle. “Another mistake”, he replied. “I didn’t want to reveal this at all, but since you are so adamant in your desire to be my enemy instead of my servant, so be it. I did not bring your daughter back at all” This time, the queen flinched. “What… what did you say?”, she stuttered, as she turned away from Pardona, looking the god-dragon straight into his golden eyes.
“You heard me”, Pyrdacor sighed. “I have been unable to resurrect Vayadona. Her body had been torn apart by the Nameless Horde, her soul had long since moved on. A whole century had passed before you approached me about this. Some deeds are beyond even my power” Orima began to tremble, torn between staring at him in disbelief or at Pardona in fear. As for the princess, she could only stand there, wide-eyed and with fear in her heart.
“He never wanted you to know this”, the voice spoke and not even its familiar presence was of any comfort to her now. She felt true terror, but a weak, desperate smile found its way onto her face as well. That was the answer she had been searching for all along. The reason why she could not remember, why she felt no connection to her old life, why Vayadona meant nothing to her. “So she is not even my daughter?”, Orima mumbled.
“Another mistake!”, Pyrdacor exclaimed. “Aren’t you supposed to be wise, Queen Orima? One could start to believe your daughter is your weak spot” He narrowed his eyes. “I was going to use her to convince you, but be as it may, the time for peace between us is over. Let there be truth at least, truth at last. I have been unable to bring back your daughter, but that doesn’t mean Pyrdona is not your child. With our blood and powers combined, I created an entirely new life. I sculpted her after the Vayadona I saw in your memories, I gave her some familiar traits, while carving away those I had no use for. In the end, she looks just like her predecessor, her… older sister, one might say. But she is her own person and she is perfect” Now, a brief, but severe look of anger appeared on the dragon’s face. “And she is your daughter!”, he growled. “Not born of your womb, not born of my seed, but born of our blood”
He moved closer now and as the queen sank down to her knees, he followed, his forehead pressed against hers. “Yes, I broke my word, I never managed to resurrect Vayadona. And yet, I gave you a child, pure and bright. There’s no darkness in her heart. Is that worth nothing? Is that not worth peace between our realms? She should have been ours to raise, ours to shape. Comforted by a mother’s love, guided by a father’s strict advice. I did my part, but you… you just couldn’t love her, could you?”
With these words, he turned away again, but Orima remained on the ground, one of her hands clutched against her chest. “Since the moment I first saw you, I wished you would find peace”, Pyrdacor claimed. “And I wished you would never make your move against me. But now that we have found ourselves in this predicament, I will see it through” He glared down at the queen. “Trust me, I hoped I never had to use this knowledge”, he growled. “I know how your kind dies. Old age and illness do not harm you, but grief… I never quite understood that emotion, but you can actually die from despair, can you not?”
Orima did not reply, but Pardona knew he was right. Her kind, if she even was an elf at all, they were immortal, but few elves lived longer than a few centuries. If not through violence, then they would eventually die once they were ready or once they could no longer stand the cruelty of this world. Grief, if strong enough, could quite literally kill an elf. And she only had to throw a look at her mother’s face to realize that the old queen had never felt more despair. Orima had gotten pallid as she knelt there, staring up at the god-dragon with wide, fearful eyes. “My daughter…”, she gasped. “Vayadona has never returned?” Pyrdacor shook his head. “And she never will”, he explained. “If it is beyond my power, it is beyond anyone’s power”
“A bold assumption”, the voice whispered in her head.
“Beyond the stars, there are beings who could restore her with a snap of their fingers, but they are far removed from the concerns of this world and would never interfere. But he is not wrong, princess. You are not Vayadona, daughter of Orima and Simia, but someone else entirely. Your own person, born through magic, touched by my gaze even before you first entered this world”Now, Pyrdacor turned around again and for a second, Pardona was certain he had seen her. Briefly, he narrowed his eyes as he stared right at her, then he looked away again, at the elven queen. “With your skill, at the height of your power and with entire legions of mages behind you, you could have been the greatest threat I’d ever have to face”, he complimented her. “Pyrdona was my peace offering. Failing that, the temples you so generously allowed me to open have already paid off. Parts of your people worship me alongside the pantheon you created for them. Who do you think they would side with if we were to fight against each other… their queen, or their god?”
He knelt down once again, playing one hand gently on her back. “But you will not fight me”, he realized as they looked each other in the eye, his a proud, golden gaze, hers a milky silver. “I should have assembled my army the moment you first arrived on my doorstep”, she hissed, to which he gave her a reluctant nod. “And yet, what would war between us have possibly achieved?”, the dragon whispered. “In the end, you would have died a far more gruesome death, your people would have been scattered, broken, enslaved. Have I not given you a chance, Orima? Have I not been merciful with you?”
She looked up and a thin, desperate smile appeared on her face. “What is going to happen to my people when I am no longer around to guide them?”, she asked and Pyrdacor reciprocated the smile in kind. “They won’t be left without guidance”, he promised. “Look at you… you won’t last until the end of the week, will you? Once you are gone, Pyrdona will become queen in your stead. She will give me Tie’Shanna and our people can truly become one”
“Our people…”, Orima mumbled. “Be good to them, god-dragon. This I beg of you” Pyrdacor’s smile widened and he gave her one brief kiss onto the forehead, before he rose from the ground again. “Those who serve will be treated well”, he promised. “With the work I already did and with Pyrdona reigning over them, I hope most will see the wisdom in serving me” With these words, he turned around. “Fare thee well, Orima!”, he intoned. “I could not reunite you with your daughter in this life, but for your sake, I hope you will find her once you return to the Light. Find your daughter and your husband. Once you do, smile at them and grieve no more. You have been a worthy foe and I want you to have peace”
"Farewell... god-dragon", Orima mumbled, still clutching her chest in pain. Pyrdacor spread his arms and his form began to blur again. Within a single heartbeat, the elf-lord was gone, replaced by the massive, golden dragon and without turning around again, he lifted himself up into the air. The force of his wings alone was enough to send Pardona to the ground and he quickly gained speed and altitude. In a few more moments, his massive body disappeared over the jungles of Zze Tha to the south, leaving Pardona and her mother alone in the garden.
“You can come out now, child…”, Orima sighed. She looked up at her daughter, her eyes filled with tears. The princess stepped from the shadows. “Mother”, she greeted her and the blind queen sighed. “I will not ask how you managed to sneak out of your room”, she spoke. “The fact that he couldn’t see you even as you were standing before him is worrying. His old master always had ways to hide itself from him… in the end, it proves me right”
“What does it prove, mother?”, Pardona hissed. “That I am not your daughter? That I am vile, that I must be punished?” Orima’s eyes widened. “Is that how you felt?”, she asked, her voice genuinely distraught. “No… it proves that something happened with you. That there is a darkness that has claimed your heart and had you just given me some time, some trust, I would have managed to remove it”
“She is deluding herself”, the voice mumbled.
“She believes you must be saved” Pardona shook her head. “I don’t need your aid, mother”, she replied firmly. “I’ve been happy with the way things were” Now, a brief, but serious expression of anger flared up on the queen’s face. “You have been claimed by the
dhaza!”, she spat, her tone loud, so loud that for a second, Pardona was concerned someone could hear them. But there was no one in sight, all had fled from the dragon.
Slowly, she gave her a nod. “I know”, she confirmed, even though she had, at best, some suspicions about the voice. The
dhaza, the nameless wind that had plagued her people ever since they set foot into this world… if this was true, it had been wise to hide its identity at first. She had heard the stories of what sorrow the
dhaza had brought upon the elves. And yet… could they be wrong? The voice had been true to her all this time, it had been with her since before the beginning. And she knew this world was not as black and white as her mother wanted her to believe.
“Do you know?”, Orima asked. “Because I have seen what the dhaza does to our people. We were light and dream where the
dhaza was darkness and discord. We were the opposite to all it stood for and ever has it tried to ruin us. It has tempted your father, but he resisted, unlike many of our greatest heroes. It has killed tens of thousands and still it is not sated. Now you are to be its next victim and already I can see the darkness. It’s what I saw on that night, but more potent”
“How typical of her”, the voice hissed.
“Do you feel diseased? Corrupted? Do you feel like something evil is happening to you?” Pardona shook her head. She hadn’t planned on just dismissing her mother’s words like that, but as she listened to the queen, anger rose within her. If anything, she felt powerful and more certain than ever before. “And what makes you think I want your help?”, she asked. “What makes you think I even need it?”
Though she did not yet turn away from her mother, she stopped approaching her, instead she glared down at the queen. Right now, Orima seemed a century older, her hair almost completely white, her skin pallid, her body trembling. “The
dhaza is cunning and dangerous, my child”, Orima spoke and her voice cracked. “Whatever it told you, do not listen”
“She is the cunning one”, the voice whispered.
“She wishes to control you. To keep you small and obedient. She truly loves you, but hers is a misguided love, controlling, smothering, destroying all you could be” Pardona narrowed her eyes. “Don’t you think it’s a little too late for that now?”, she replied, a thin, calm smile on her face. “While you are hiding yourself from the truth, while you let the god-dragon trample all over our people, I’m trying to find a way for us to live! The
dhaza, if that’s how you want to call it, it is not my enemy. Yours maybe, but just look at yourself… your days are numbered. Wouldn’t it lessen your grief to know that I can protect us from Pyrdacor?”
Orima shook her head. “Silly child…”, she mumbled. “I shouldn’t have left your education in the god-dragon’s hands. Of course he wouldn’t ever tell you about this, but there are enemies out there that are far worse and far more powerful than he could ever be. The
dhaza is such an enemy” Now, the princess took a step back and a look of despair flashed across her mother’s face. “The
dhaza is the force behind the Nameless Horde”, she then yelled. “The one that came from the east, massacring our people, the ones that killed your father, the ones that killed you!”
Now, the princess actually stopped dead in her tracks. Indeed, the dragon had never told her about forces greater than him. He had mentioned the gods, but only ever as equals. If this was true, however…
“Remember, princess, Simia is not your father”, the voice reminded her and she nodded in agreement. “That wasn’t me”, she replied and a cold, utterly joyless smile appeared on her face. She took no delight in seeing her mother like this and under different circumstances, she would have broken down next to her. But she had seen the look on Orima’s face just a few moments ago. It had been there for a fragment of a second, but with the voice’s guidance, not even these small expressions remained hidden from her watchful gaze. “You’re glad about that, aren’t you?”, she hissed. “That I am not her, the daughter you loved, the daughter you lost!
“No, I…”, the queen began, before she paused. “I admit, I could not live with myself knowing that Vayadona would have to suffer through this” Tears welled up within her blind eyes. “She was a gentle soul. The
dhaza would have ruined her in an instant. Had Pyrdacor succeeded at bringing her back… she would have been beyond saving now. But you are different. Stronger, more decisive. Perhaps there is hope for you. You're not too far gone”
The princess shook her head. “I don’t need your honeyed words, mother”, she hissed. “I know of my strength and unlike you, I have never doubted me” Her voice was firm, but there was a lump in her throat as she looked down at the first kind face she had seen in this world. Though there was bitterness between them, she had loved the blind queen not too long ago. “If I am not the daughter you wanted…” Orima gasped. “I love you, my child”, she claimed.
“She does, in her own way”, the voice confirmed and it was all Pardona needed to hear. “I’m just not Vayadona, that’s the issue”, she replied, her tone hollow now. “Worry not, mother. I will mourn for you, but once I am queen Tie’Shanna shall know peace at last. The
dhaza will be an ally instead of an enemy and Pyrdacor will no longer be able to threaten us. He is mistaken if he thinks I am just going to hand him this nation on a silver platter”
“He remains a dangerous enemy”, the voice warned her, but Pardona ignored it for a second. Her mother, however, was not silent. “You would provoke a war with the god-dragon…”, she realized and the princess shrugged. “If that’s what’s necessary”, she stated firmly, immediately noticing the relieved look on Orima’s face. “It’s a blessing then that you will never be queen”, she revealed. “I have made preparations. I felt it in my heart that the dragon’s words were meant to kill me, so I left a will. Fenvarien will inherit the crown of Simia and the throne of Tie’Shanna. He will lead my people in accordance to my principles and he will avoid open war with the god-dragon”
Pardona’s eyes widened. “Who?”, she asked, her voice lower and almost threatening. Her mother only smiled mildly. She was fading already, growing ever more pale. Pyrdacor’s words had crushed her, or perhaps this conversation now was the final push. Soon, she would become one with the Light again, as so many of her kind before her. Pardona knew she should be devastated. She should cry over her mother’s impending death. And yet, in this moment all she felt was rage. “Your cousin”, Orima revealed. “At least that’s what I thought. He is Simia’s nephew, high in the line of succession for his entire life. He has been groomed to rule and unlike you, I can be certain that he won’t yield to the
dhaza. He has already been informed and will soon arrive here by airship. By then, I presume you will have followed Ometheon and his disciples. I have left instructions for Fenvarien and it will be better for you if you are no longer around once he receives them”
She had never heard of this cousin, but truth be told, Pardona had never bothered to learn more about her extended family. If she couldn’t even remember her father, what use was there to learn about uncles and cousins? Now, she at least knew why there was no memory of Simia. Pyrdacor was indeed her father, albeit not in the way she would have expected. “Then you will even deny me my birthright?”, she growled. This gained a hollow chuckle out of the queen. “Your birthright?”, she remarked. “This crown is mine and I can give it to whom I see fit. As long as you keep the
dhaza in your heart, you will never take my throne”
“You don’t need it”, the voice promised.
“You will gain a better throne, become a greater queen than she has ever been and your reign will last until the end of this world and into the next one” This did little to calm the princess’ fury. “This is it then?”, she hissed. “Your final scheme. Denying the dragon his kingdom and me my crown… this is how you wish for us to part?” Orima shook her head. “I don’t want us to part at all, child”, she sighed. “But I can’t do this any longer. Last time, the
dhaza nearly destroyed our race. I cannot live with myself, knowing that you will become its slave”
“I will be no one’s slave!”, Pardona hissed and her mother only gave her a calm smile, in it all the warmth she had missed so dearly. “I wish you all the best for that, daughter mine”, she mumbled. “Gods know you would have deserved better than being born into a shattered family, with a mother who grieved more for those she had lost than those still around her”
Pardona spun around, ready to march off in fury, as Orima called out for her one last time. “Despite all that happened, despite all you might believe, I love you”, she spoke and this time, the princess flinched. She only barely remained standing, had to force herself not to turn around, not to grant her this small victory. And yet, if things could have been different between them, without the dragon, without the voice, just a mother and her daughter… “I don’t believe you”, she hissed, as she finally stormed off. “Vayadona!”, the queen called after her, but now more than ever, that wasn’t her name...
Luna, again
This time, waking from the dream was not the slightest bit difficult. Luna awoke, clear of mind and surprisingly well-rested, if a slight bit shaken by what she had just seen. She sat up, blinking twice, as she looked around in the small room that was equal parts refuge and prison cell. It was cold, but not unbearably so and someone had given her a warm blanket while she had been unconscious.
“Asch?”, she asked, facing the door as she spoke, but there was no reply. The light that shined through the small window was dim, but it wasn’t entirely dark yet and as she looked out, she could see her surroundings clearly. For the first time, she took the area in without fear. The tower itself was not particularly high, but still impressive for a lone structure. It stood atop a wide hill, but the area around it seemed odd. All was covered in snow, but the surface beneath seemed too smooth to be simple ground. She had seen something similar back home, in Tobria and as such, she had no doubt about it. This entire tower was located at the centre of a lake, surrounded by water on all sides during the warmer months. But with this unnatural cold, the ice was probably as solid as rock. A thick forest grew around the shore as far as she could see, though with the night quickly approaching and heavy, grey clouds covering the horizon, it was not as if she had particularly great view, not here, in one of the lower floors of the tower.
Still nobody had come to check up on her, which was unusual and slowly, Luna got up from her bed. She had to wonder what this could mean and if this was, perhaps a chance. By now she was confident that Asch did not actually intend to harm her, even if she would try to escape. Curunir was different and she did not know enough about him and no vision in the world would ever make her trust the queen, but as long as it was only Asch between her and freedom, she was certain she could find a way. With Pardona gone, perhaps now her best chance.
Unsurprisingly, the door was open. Neither the vampire nor the night elf seemed too confident she could make her escape and it would indeed be difficult to cross the lake and the forest in this weather. But Curunir had shown her the tower. She knew where the food was stored and though it took more than a full belly to survive this winter, perhaps she could make it far enough to find civilization, to find aid and to get out of here.
But what then… Asch knew about her parents and should she escape, she was certain he would stop at nothing to find her again. He seemed unwilling to harm her, but that day on the road had made it clear he had no regards for the lives of those she cared for. Will was still alive thanks to him, but Guthmund and Alfred were dead and she would never forgive him, nor could she risk to call his wrath upon the rest of her friends of her family.
That was a problem for a later day, however. First, she had to get out of here and this meant confirming that she was indeed alone. She knew where the exit was and if she could make it out of there without encountering Curunir or Asch, perhaps she could make it. It was risky, but Luna was sick of just waiting for the night elf to go through with his plan. And whatever Pardona was planning, she knew she wanted no part in it. She would not sit here until Asch or his queen got what they needed from her.
As such, she pushed the door open, carefully trying to avoid any unnecessary sound. The staircase was dark and silent, though far above her, there was light, as well as far below. She had never been to the higher floors, where Asch and the queen resided and now was a terrible time to be curious. As such, Luna turned down, quickly hurrying to the lower floors. For now, she only wore the simple dress she had on her when Asch had taken her, but somewhere in the storage, there had to be warm clothes. Her own winter coat at the very least, for she had it on her when he took her and she doubted he’d actually care enough about the thing to throw it away.
But she’d deal with the supplies later. First, she had to reach the exit at least once, had to make certain that she actually could escape. She’d only get this one chance at most. As such, Luna continued to hurry down the winding staircase, with occasional, narrow windows confirming that she was getting closer to the ground indeed. It wasn’t a long way, but by the time she reached the door, her heart was beating furiously. Briefly, she listened for any noise behind the door, before she pushed it open and without hesitation, she stepped through.
“You?”, a familiar, hollow voice spoke up and immediately, she froze. She had forgotten about him for a moment, but of course there he was, Walmir of Reeveshoff. The arch-vampire was crouching on the ground in his tiny prison, but as he saw her, his solid, white eyes widened and he rose, too quick, too hasty for a human being, to his impressive height of over seven feet. “If anyone, I would have expected Asch, not you”, he hissed, but after a moment of obvious displeasure, his smile widened, revealing his sharp teeth. “But he doesn’t know you’re here, does he?”
Luna shot him a stern glare, but even then she could not hide how terrified she was of him. This was a primal fear, something hidden so deep within her mind that she could do nothing but tremble at the thought of what he could do to her. No bars separated them and though she was confident he couldn’t kill her, else he would have done so already, it did little to ease her worries. “I am surprised he leaves you out of his sight, princess”, he hissed and she flinched at the sheer malice in his voice.
“He is not here?”, she asked, forcing herself to take another step into the room. Walmir’s prison was merely the circle at the centre of this hall, unable to reach the door behind him, the door that would lead her out of here. She only had to check if it was unlocked, but to do so she had to get dangerously close to his prison. “He is upstairs”, Walmir confirmed. “I can smell his scent, so similar to yours and yet utterly unappealing compared to it”
Luna took another step towards him and in an instant, Walmir was at the edge of his prison, as far as the circle allowed him to approach her. His dead eyes stared daggers at her. “Why have you come?”, he asked and she took a deep breath. “You know why”, she replied, her voice shaky and weak compared to the bestial snarl that came from his throat. “I will not be their prisoner any longer. If there’s a way out of here, I will take it”
This got a hearty chuckle out of the arch-vampire. “She wants to escape, how quaint!”, he exclaimed, so loud that she feared Asch could hear them. “I command your bravery, little girl, though I am not certain if you have fully thought this through. Asch and Curunir are dangerous enemies and they will hunt you to the edge of this world if they have to” She shrugged. “Then let them hunt me”, she stated. “I have seen whom their queen serves, how well she convinced herself. I will not be manipulated by her or her master”
“Don’t overestimate your own importance in this, girl”, Walmir replied. “Her master is the Nameless God and you hardly matter to him. Sometimes I think even Pardona is barely more than a pawn in his game, so think carefully what this means for you” Once again, she shrugged, taking another step past the prison, under the watchful gaze of Walmir of Reeveshoff. He bared his teeth at her now and his entire body was trembling with power. If not for this circle, for the protective magic woven within and the holy artefacts spread out around it, he would have killed her already, she had no doubt about it.
“Nonetheless, I need to get out of here”, she replied. “I will not be her prisoner!” Walmir gave her a firm nod. “You know what, I can respect that”, he claimed. “If not for her devious little trick, I would not serve her either. She forces me to create more and more of my kind, stupid brutes who get themselves killed all over the Meadows while drawing more and more attention to me”
It was hard to feel pity for the vampire, but Luna could understand his anger. “I survived the centuries by remaining hidden from the world”, he continued, now with clear anger in his voice. “And she forces me to throw all of that away. It will be just a matter of time now until the Church of Praios finds out about my survival” For a second just there, Luna noticed genuine frustration in Walmir’s voice.
“What is she trying to do?”, she asked and the vampire glanced from her to the door. “I’m not surprised nobody told you”, he spoke. “They want you on their side, but show you no trust. You’re not locked in this unworthy cage like me, but you remain their prisoner still” His smirk returned, cold and sharp. “I can tell you, but in return I’m going to make a request. All I ask for is that you listen carefully and think about it” Luna nodded, though she took another step away from him, towards the exit. “I’m listening”, she promised.
“Then I will tell you what I know”, Walmir confirmed. “It’s a common myth that vampires need blood to survive. That is not true, of course, any higher vampire has other means to sate their endless hunger. What we’re actually after is sikaryan, that tiny spark of divine energy that is within all living beings. Your life force, so to say. We extract it and use it to feed ourselves and our accursed master”
That had to be the Nameless One as well. Though the priest in her village rarely spoke of the Thirteenth God, every single folk tale she had ever heard linked him to vampires. The Nameless One, chained to the breach he himself had carved into the Wall of Stars, a weakened, mutilated prisoner, but ever dangerous. If he was truly Pardona’s master, that was all the more of a reason to leave as swiftly as possible. At the same time, it was intriguing to learn that not all of his servants got along.
“Extracting it through your blood is simple, but any higher vampire has other means. If not for this circle, I could tear your soul from your body with a single look. The process is painful and most mortals die before it is complete. They are the lucky ones, for they get to move on, they get to stay dead”, Walmir continued and suddenly, she felt even worse in his presence, with his pallid gaze upon her. With an amused hiss, he bared his teeth again, visibly enjoying her discomfort. “Worry not, little one. You’d notice if I’d be doing that to you”, he chuckled. “In any way, Pardona has a ritual prepared and she needs a baffling amount of sikaryan for it, more than I have extracted in my entire life”
“What for?”, Luna gasped, even if she wasn’t certain she wanted to hear the answer. The vampire’s smile faded. “That’s the thing, she wants it for utter foolishness”, he growled. “There’s a man, long dead, but with an impressive legacy. His name is Tharsonius of Bethana, but his followers call him Borbarad. Without a doubt the mightiest human mage who ever lived and his followers even worship him as a god” Walmir chuckled, but utterly without joy. “I had one of them for dinner a couple of decades ago, so I know a bit about this little cult. It is laughable, truly”, he added. “I can only speculate, but I believe Pardona wishes to resurrect Tharsonius, Borbarad, or whichever name he prefers. Not just by binding his soul, like some necromancers can do, but by truly resurrecting him, restoring his body, mind and power”
“That is impossible”, Luna replied at once. She remembered well what she had heard in those visions. The god-dragon in all his might had created a new life, but even he had been unable to return Vayadona from the dead. This either meant Pardona had forgotten about those lessons, or that she had surpassed her creator in the millennia that had passed. The former was barely comforting, but the latter was enough to terrify her.
“Perhaps my guess is wrong. I am not omniscient”, Walmir admitted. “But whatever she’s planning for Tharsonius, she is infuriatingly confident about it” He bared his teeth again and their sharpness, paired with the chilling expression in his eyes made for a harrowing combination. “I would give everything to rip out those golden eyes of hers, to truly indulge myself in her screams of agony, but alas, I am but her prisoner”, he hissed. “Just like you”
“At least I’m not locked in here”, Luna spoke, as she had finally reached the door. The arch-vampire hissed with barely concealed anger as she opened it. Immediately, cold air filled the room and a sharp wind howled towards her. Snow was falling out there and by now it was dark out there, but the door was open at least and Luna could just step outside. The very thought was empowering, it nearly brought tears of joy to her face, to think what little stood between her and freedom now. She’d still have to walk miles to reach civilization, but for the time being, it would be enough to get away from Asch and his queen.
“Wait, little girl”, Walmir called after her and she stopped once again. His voice was different now, warmer and smoother, but even then he could not quite hide the monstrous growl within his throat. “I have told you all I know and you have given me your word in return that you would hear me out”, he spoke, sounding more and more like a human being, though she only needed to look at him to dispel the illusion. Those pallid, dead eyes of his, his serpentine teeth, the gaunt face, all of it revealed his true nature. He was a monster, not just in body but in mind as well. Unlike Asch and Curunir, he at least had the kindness to openly show it. She could see the hunger in his gaze and she knew what to expect of him, but with the night elf and the other vampire, she was never certain.
“Asch is upstairs and unlikely to notice your escape for a few more hours. His queen has given him a task and he is foolishly devoted to that vile woman”, the vampire spoke once he was certain he had her attention. “Curunir is the one you must be wary of, for he will return soon. Should you try to escape, he will chase after you and he will find you”
“That’s a risk I have to take”, Luna sighed. She reached for her pocket, where Asch’s needle was still resting. The night elf had told her it could harm Curunir and though she felt sick at the thought of hurting another being, even one as dangerous as him, she was confident she could do it if necessary. “What would you have me do instead? Stay here until they break me? Until what their queen offers makes any sense to me? Until I become a slave of the Nameless God as well?”
Walmir shook his head. “You will never be a slave, young one”, he claimed. “And freedom is indeed within your grasp. Curunir is nearby, somewhere in the forest. He escorts some of my… you’d call them victims. Other vampires, the newborn I have turned” He glanced at the ceiling as if he could see the nightly sky far above and his smile grew oddly wistful. “A full moon is rising and once again, I have called them here. Many newborn vampires stalk the Meadows. They feed, they indulge themselves, they leave a trail of death and chaos, of missing people and frozen corpses in the wilderness. Once a month, he forces me to call them here and they come, those who want to and those who are too weak to resist. Some even bring their own victims with them, vampires of an even younger, even weaker generation, while others have the decency to bring livestock with them”
More vampires… If Luna hadn’t already made the choice to escape, now she’d have done it all over again. Walmir was bad enough even within his prison and Curunir was just as dangerous. “The younger vampires are often unable to control themselves. Many are on the verge of turning feral, that’s what happens to us if we don’t feed enough. The lowest of my kind are barely more than beasts, fit for no higher task, but even they can still gather sikaryan. I call them here and take my fill, but Curunir and Asch take the rest. They bleed them and collect their offerings, so that Pardona can add it to her ritual”
“And they are on their way here?”, Luna asked, to which Walmir gave her a nod. “Curunir is just welcoming the first of them, in the forest to the east. It won’t be long until he’s here again. At worst, you run into one of them on your way out and in that case, death is not the worst that could happen to you” She did not like the direction this conversation had taken, nor did she like to speak to him in general, but he brought up a surprisingly good point.
“So, what are you suggesting then?”, she asked. “Should I return to my room until Asch and Pardona tire of me and hand me over to you?” Once again, Walmir’s smile returned. He could not hide the desire in his eyes, but it was not physical in nature. There was a mad craving in his gaze and she feared what he could do if not for this circle. “That would be tempting, yes”, he spoke. “But I haven’t lived for this long without self-control. Many times, wanderers have passed the Alackskeep and many times I have only watched them from afar. You may think of me as a monster, but I have never killed when it wasn’t necessary. I have made deals with mortals before and I have always kept my word”
She wasn’t sure if she could believe him there, but at the very least, she knew that their situation was roughly comparable. They were both prisoners here, neither had any fondness for the queen and both of them just wanted to escape. “You want me to free you?”, she realized and he gave her a nod. “Curunir is strong, but if not for this circle, I could control his mind as I once did”, he told her. “The lesser vampires are my spawn too and they will fight for me once I am free of these chains. Instead of obstacles on your way out, they could be allies in our escape. And should Asch try to follow us… I have underestimated him and he dealt me a most humiliating defeat, but even he cannot stand against an army of my kind. Nobody can”
“How can I trust you?”, Luna asked and this time, Walmir shrugged. “If you want certainty, you cannot”, he admitted. “But I have been a priest of Praios in my old life and I am still of noble blood. My word is binding and I am willing to give it to you. Free me of this circle and I vow that no harm will come to you. We shall leave this tower together, I will escort you to the nearest outpost of civilization and then I will take my leave. You will return home, I will head into a different direction and we shall never meet again”
It would have been a perfect offer under other circumstances, if he wasn’t a vampire, if she had any means to trust him. Even now it was still tempting. She had no illusions about her ability to outrun Asch or Curunir, much less the small army of lesser vampires Walmir must have turned by now. But with him on her side, with both of them trying to escape, perhaps she could slip through unnoticed. It was risky and she hesitated, for she hated that hungry look in his eyes and how easily he could kill her. But perhaps it was her only chance...
[Free him] [Leave him imprisoned]
