Slurping back the tea Rall stared at the sword. “We need to talk I think.”

(A little note from the authors: Next week there will likely be no posting, we're taking the week off to recharge, and maybe catch up a bit on the lead that helps us be sure of continuity. Bear with us through the postponement, more will be forthcoming the following week.)

High above the mountains the moon shone brightly in the heavens. Then a dark shape crossed the light, casting a terrible shadow on the land below. Hideous leathery wings beat with a sulfurous stench, the twisted body to which they belonged glowing with a hateful red sheen. On its back, a man in black robes held up a clawed staff in defiance of the night sky and the bitter chilled wind.

A night and a day had passed since he had summoned the creature into the world and began his trip across leagues of land deep into the western mountains. These were unexplored lands marked simply as unnamed mountains and forests on maps of the world. But legends spoke of a great volcano deep in the wilds where demons once ruled the land and unspeakable horrors walked the earth. A natural gateway into the hells. As the story went the First used this very volcano for his own ascension at the dawn of man; stealing it away from the demon hoards who claimed ownership he turned its awesome forces to his own purposes, and in consuming his body in its fires his essence transcended the mortal plane. It was said that even now the demons hated all mankind for the trespass and theft of the energies from their own demesne.

It was from there that he could open a gateway safely into the hells to bargain with the Lord of the forgotten names.

---

Rall struggled to cast off the thick wool blanket that he had curled up into like a cocoon. Once free he rubbed the blurriness from his eyes and stretched. “Ah, the child awakes from her sleep of death.” called a voice from the corner of the room obscured behind drapes of silk and wool.

“Hello? Where am I?” He wanted to ask more but his head still felt a little groggy, like he’d slept far too long and his voice felt weak and breathy

“You’re in the healing home at Windrunner Village. I am Eludrale, the elder healer. How do you feel? Any aches or pains lingering?” Rall took stock of himself, he did feel a little different, but nothing hurt really. He just felt somewhat disconnected.

“No... I feel a little weird, but not hurt.”

“Good, good, that would be the calming tea. You thrashed around quite vigorously for a time. You should be more careful with things that are so closely tied to your life.”She smiled at Rall’s confusion then nodded towards the sword laying next to his side.

Rall pushed himself away from the decaying sword “I threw it away on purpose. It hates me, and I’d rather die than share my life with something that hates me. But I guess I can’t get away from it that easy.”

“Oh no you could, Larenmireil nearly sung her throat raw to find your sword. A reckless thing that you did with the hearts of those that love you, throwing that sword away. A life is never owned by she who lives it, it is shared by all those who care for her. Do you understand?” Rall nodded reluctantly.

A deep feeling of shame washed over him, clenching his chest like a vice. He hadn’t been thinking about his friends or family. Just the anger at being turned into the personal slave of an over sized reptile .

“What am I supposed to do then? Make friends with a dragon in a sword? Is that even possible? She’s a monster, if I help her she’ll just kill people.” Eludrale bent to collect a pot of hot water and a tray, and poured sweet-smelling tea for both herself and Rall as she eased herself into a chair next to the bed.

“A monster, you say? Why don’t I tell you a little story from when I was young. You see, nearly a thousand years ago, dragons roamed the land as freely as we do now. They had homes, they mated, had families and had a place in the tapestry of life. Elves, men, dwarves, we were new to this land, and the dragons paid little mind as we carved out pieces of the land they called home. They didn’t mind sharing, and some even looked fondly on our kind, in the way you might look fondly of a pet dog. No, they did not consider us their equals, but hubris is part of the nature of all thinking beings.

So, as the numbers of men grew, more and more of the dragons’ land disappeared. They came to us then, demanding that we cease our theft. Some, such as the elves and dwarves, chose to stop and simply hold what we had. But humankind, with your ever increasing numbers, could not stem their growth and expansion. I do not mean to cast blame, it is simply the way of things. Had humans stopped their land expansion, countless of your people would have died of starvation.

The dragons continued to pressure humanity, razing farms and livestock, and tension grew on all sides. War was unavoidable. So, the human mages planned ahead for the war to come, creating weapons and spells to combat the great dragons with their mighty fire and magic.

When the first true attack came to the nations of men they held firm, parrying the attack. With the aid of some of the greatest spell casters of their time, they held the dragons’ fire back. But the cost in lives was dreadful. The dragons are a force unto themselves, but they are arrogant creatures and most never cooperated with each other even in a common goal. It was this very trait that allowed mortal men to hold back the flames, but despite this slim advantage the magic of mortals could do little to hurt the great beasts.

The war raged for 200 years, a very short time for dragons, but an eternity for men. Generations of men lived and died fighting in a hopeless war that would not end. Most did not understand that the dragons would not band together, so the humans saw their death looming over every horizon, thinking the dragons simply toying with them before the final strike.

It was in these desperate times men turned to the old faiths, inviting the gods of their ancestors to these new lands, and those gods did come. ‘Dies iudicii’ is what I believe what your people called in your old tongue, it means day of judgement. The sky split open as the avatars of the gods walked the earth calling the stars down from the heavens like rain. The world burned that day and much was lost. In the span of hours the dragons were reduced from thousands to hundreds then to dozens. It was the wholesale destruction of an entire race, a fate unthinkable to all. When all was done only a handful of dragons still walked the land.

But, as the dragons began to understand their loss most fled, finding new homes. The last few who remained were those who still saw hope for the humans. They understood what drove the two races to such ends, and rather than flee or die, they took up the form of humans. I met one such person, his name was Basarth. He took the form of a large man, and joined a farming community recovering from the war. This farming community was not far from here, just across the River Tessarill, so I came to meet this dragon and recognized him for what he was. He pleaded that I not reveal him, so I watched as he helped rebuild the community, fell in love with a human woman named Jora, and sired three children.

Baranth was a man of honor and integrity, not a monster, and when a dragon driven mad by loss attacked the village years later, it was he who fought that dragon. He transformed back to his original form and drove his mad cousin away, at the cost of his family, for they could not accept him once he gave himself away. Only a month later, his family was murdered, for the other humans could not accept them either. When Baranth found out, he did not take the revenge some feared he would, and instead flew over the horizon and has never returned.

So you see, child, it is not the form that makes someone good or evil, man or monster, it is the actions taken by that person. Humans are just as capable of becoming monsters as any thinking being, and dragons just as capable of compassion.”

As the elf healer came to the end of her story, Rall realized he hadn’t moved, had scarcely dared breathe as she spoke. Her words carried the weight of lifetimes of experience, and the message imparted left him breathless.

“I never knew... The myths speak of murderous beasts destroying whole cities! The human gods killed them all?”

“Killed them, drove them away, or trapped them in devices such as yon sword. Such craftsmanship is beyond mortal hands. But someone has gone and broken that seal, and your dragon is dying, just as surely as are you. The question is, will you spend your remaining lives hating each other?” Having said her piece, the healer woman finished her tea and stood up.

“You should drink your tea, it will soothe your worries and allow you to truly think clearly. It’s also quite a pleasant flavored blend, I drink it every day.” She smiled and left the room again, leaving the door partially ajar.

Slurping back the tea Rall stared at the sword. “We need to talk I think.”

---

The small mountain of ice creaked and groaned, filling the air with a chill mist and turning Arron’s breath into fog. The fairies did not break free as he stood, stunned for the longest moment, though the queen’s eyes glared hatefully at him through the clear crystal of her prison.

Arron turned to walk away, but stopped as he approached the bank of the pond. A young-looking fey woman struggled with her foot frozen into the iced waters. At his look she froze stiff not from the cold but unrestrained fear, still like a wild animal as a predator approached.

“Please! Don’t kill me. I...I...I...” she half whispered with fluorescent green tears running down her face. “Please...” He couldn’t bear the terror in her eyes, and paused to answer.

“I don’t want to hurt anyone. You all forced this, I just want to find Corana and leave. You have nothing to fear from me, if you won’t stop me leaving.”

“It was only a game!” she cried out. “Your lover comes this way, please, if you’ll release us none will bar your way. You can’t leave us trapped like this forever!” Arron thought about it, but he wasn’t really sure how he managed to freeze the water or control it the way he had. Besides which, he didn’t trust any of them. Still, he couldn’t help feeling sympathy for the diminutive blue-skinned faerie woman. He tried to imagine the water around her trapped foot flowing, dripping, melting away, and it seemed to work.

“The rest will be freed when the ice melts. I intend to be far gone from here before then. You will let me pass?” He asked warily, half expecting her to attack. She stepped aside meekly, not apparently harmed at all from the freezing of her foot.

“You will find your mate if you follow the black lilies. When you do, flee, for the king and queen are both wrathful! They will find you and punish you if you remain in the Fair Lands!”

---

Rall sat on the bed and drew the sword onto his lap. The sheathed weapon looked much as he remembered it, but somehow seemed more fragile, less solid. He drew the blade and found it marred by deep cracks and new lines of rust and tarnish.

“Are you a monster? Or do you know compassion? I need to know. I would rather die than become a monster. What will I become?”

Closing his eyes Rall waited, the room was silent but for the soft breathing of another sleeping patient and the light breeze that blew through the room. He listened harder, tuning out the sounds around him, it was a bit like what Martello had taught him about trying to see past the world. He tried to listen past the world to hear what couldn’t be heard.

With each breath he listened and slowly the world drained away until only one sound remained. His own heartbeat faded slowly into silence, as he listened to the sword.

“So, you’ve finally come to listen to me, girl child?” whispered a ragged voice.

Rall nodded “I didn’t know how. But now I can hear you.”

“It was a terrible thing you did casting me away. Your life is all that holds this seal together now.” It replied, slightly stronger.

Rall whispered bitterly, “I already threw my life away once. Is it worth keeping, knowing you will live too?”

“You could choose to end my existence with a single flex of your arm, the blade will part. Will you finish what your kind started?” He could feel her sadness, even though the whispered voice betrayed none of it. She was weary, and afraid, but mostly she felt remorse.

“I didn’t start it. Nor my father, nor my grandfather, nor anyone I can even imagine ever having met. Until this month I thought dragons were stories to scare children to bed”

“Would it be so easy for you to forgive? My mate was killed by human magic, before my eyes. Even after centuries in this prison I yet long for him. Would you not seek vengeance if your woman were killed?”

“I don’t know, Granth. But if you’re willing to try, I am willing to try to understand. But do I have to become a dragon? It scares me.”

“Girl child... Rall. it is not by choice, neither of us can stop what has begun. But it is nothing to fear, you will continue to be you, regardless of the form you take. I can in time show you ways to change your form if you wish to hide some of your improvements... If we live that is.”

Uncertain, he took a breath. “So we are still dying then? But i feel better now...”

“We are at a crossroads. We live or die by your choice. But I am desperately weak, and will need more of my own life energy back, if you choose to live with me.”

The the idea of being part dragon seemed bearable, given the alternative, if he could remain himself at least. “I am, I think, willing to live with you. But must I be a girl?”

Granth pause at the question almost uncertain “Is that not who you are? My nature is to bear new life, so must your nature be of the same... If your nature were that of a male, our energies would consume each other violently. Our bond would not be.”

Rall felt the blood pound in his ears as he realized what that meant. The sword wasn’t changing him into a girl? What *was* doing it then? A roaring gale filled his head, rattling breaths grinding in his ears agonizingly, and then it was gone, only the gentle snore nearby and the rustle of the curtain in the breeze breaking the silence. He drew several gasping breaths before his pounding pulse settled into calm again.

A knock at the door sent it right back up, before Greta peeked inside the still-open door.

“Oh, you’re awake! Eludrale said you might sleep more. May I... come in?” Larenmireil’s face appeared above Greta’s, looking just as anxious.

“Yes, both of you, please. I need to apologize to you both anyway.” Greta rushed into the room diving into Rall chest crying.

“You idiot, don’t you dare go and die on me again!” Larenmireil followed close behind her, with a thoughtful expression and eyes red-rimmed from crying. When she spoke her voice sounded hoarse and raw.

“Please don’t do anything so rash again, Rana. I would be... very sad to lose you, after only having just met you. Life is fragile and short enough without ending it early.” Rall nodded, holding Greta as she sobbed into his chest. He knew his choice to try to work things out with Granth had to be the right one now, he couldn’t bear to make either of these girls cry over him ever again.

“I am sorry. I promise I won’t do anything like that again.”

Punching Rall in the shoulder Greta lifted her face, her soft lips hovering inch from his own “You better not, or else I beat you to a bloody pulp-” she suddenly lurched forward, eyes wide, and her lips met his. It was explosive, she was angry but at the same time not-angry, and once it started she kissed him like she might keep him alive with her passion. When she finally pulled away he found himself breathless and filled with some burning need he couldn’t quite fully comprehend.

“You... You!” Greta turned around to glare at Larenmireil hotly.

Larenmireil simply smiled, “Turnabout is fair play as they say. Besides, you two seem to have enjoyed it...” Greta might have lunged at her, but Rall’s next comment drew her up short.

“There’s more. Granth says she’s not the one changing me. That she couldn’t have ever bonded with a boy in the first place. I don’t know what that means for sure, but it sounds like I’m going to change the rest of the way and stay that way. So, maybe you don’t want to kiss me like that or something...” He hung his head, feeling ashamed and sad and upset but mostly confused. Larenmireil’s slender finger under his chin lifted his head back up to face her directly.

“Among the elves we have a saying, developed since we met humans and realized your strange ways. ‘You love who you love, not what they are.’ We do not restrict such things the way humans often do.” Greta nodded from the side.

“Besides, compared to watching you die, what’s a little change like that? I’ll take you however I can get you, so long as you don’t die again.” Rall wasn’t sure what to say to that, on top of everything else. It didn’t matter to them, they would accept him even as a girl? It wasn’t like he wasn’t pretending to be one for months now anyway. Maybe it wouldn’t be as bad as he thought.

---

Cale lay still breathing slowly, his mind was abuzz with a hundred muddled nonsensical thoughts. The healing tea was a powerful sedative, but he had trained his body to resist toxins and it left his mind clear enough to understand the discussion going on so close to him.

The chattering of the girls in the far end of the room bothered him for the longest time. It took several minutes to recognize the voice. Xabriar’s order reverberated in his mind; he was here to kill this girl and her friend. But a small part of his mind not muddied by the drugs kept him silent and still.

The conversation between the three was very informative if not quite shocking. The one with the sword, Rana, she was a boy before and turning into a girl? In his cloudy mind he couldn’t quite make sense of it, nonetheless it sounded quite useful. Maybe he could use it to drive a wedge into her companions to separate them. But this was a thought for later when his mind was clearer, he need to recover first, gather his things and prepare... Closing his eyes he allowed himself to drift back to sleep, confident in the knowledge they would not be leaving any time soon.

---

The earth god moved fast, faster with each step it seemed. Corana could scarcely keep up, especially with the illusion taxing her strength. She had to get him far enough away that he could not easily return, though likely the fairy king would not again grant him entry anyway. But as her energy ebbed, the fairy illusions grew less and less substantial, fading like mist into the air.

The Earth god raged and roared, but no fairies presented themselves, and she was cautious to keep well away from him, hiding as she tried to catch her breath in the chaos of his anger. Long minutes he raged, the ground trembling and rolling under his feet, uprooting trees and disturbing creatures, but slowly he settled down to a low grumble.

Slipping from behind a tree she walked into the clearing. The earth god silently observed as she hesitantly approached. The earth god stood still for the longest time, for a moment then nodded its head. She approached then, taking that for permission, and placed her hand on the stone where it resembled a shoulder.

“Did the fairies cause you any harm, great Earth God?” She thought it couldn’t hurt to show him due courtesy. The earth god nodded, turning over it hand exposing a long thin crack through the gray rock. Dark muddy water dripped from the opening in a way the remind Corana of blood.

“That looks awful... I am a sorceress, perhaps I can heal it with my magic?” The great stone god shook his head again, then pointed to the east. In the distance, the mountains dominated the horizon, sharp like jagged teeth protruding from the earth against the darkening evening sky.

“I must find my companion before we leave, he will be helpless in the hands of the fairy queen. I only hope he has been able to last, if she makes him speak his name to her, I may never be able to save him...” She turned west to follow the black lilies growing from the ground, and came face to face with Arron.

“You might be surprised how helpless I’m not, against the wiles of a woman I do not love. But we don’t really have time to talk about it, she will be following and I don’t know how long we have.” He looked over his shoulder as if expecting the queen and her court to appear from the setting sun at any moment. She could not help but take him seriously, even as she wondered how he accomplished an escape.

“The earth god is wounded, that may mean some harm has befallen the land. I think if we travel with him, they might be cautious about approaching us, and perhaps we can help him to heal.” The great stone man beside her nodded, startling Arron, and began to walk to the east. Corana shrugged, motioned Arron to follow, and joined him.

---

Hours passed as they walked thought the undergrowth. Arron took the lead, thrashing away tree branches and vines with his sword to help clear the path. In the distance he could see the mountains through the top of the tree canopy, slowly growing in his field of vision.

Turning back towards Corana and the stone giant to ensure that they where both in sight. He didn’t quite trust the stone giant alone with her. Turning back his eyes caught sight of the sun, already rising in the east. He was quite certain it had only set a couple of hours ago. He watched as they continued, curious at the strange turn of events, and the could almost imagine he saw it moving across the sky.

“Corana, the sun...” She nodded at him behind the earth god’s back.

“I noticed too. Time does not flow the same in the lands the fae have claimed as it does in our lands. It is... chaotic, much like the fae themselves.” Arron watched the sun in glimpses, until he tripped over a tree root and rammed his cheek into the larger part of the root.

“Are you alright, Arron? We have to be careful. This place is still quite dangerous.” Corana offered tactfully.

“I’m fine, I just misstepped.” he replied uncertainly. He was no awkward oaf, in fact he had some of the best balance and foot work of his squadron in the city guard. Examining the root he wondered how he had approached so quickly, when he last looked it was three paces a head of him. Dusting himself off he picked up his sword and took point once again, the streaking sun across the sky falling into the background of his mind.

The pace continued, with the forest getting thicker as they progressed. The undergrowth was a hindrance but Arron’s sword made progress easier. “Should we make camp?” Arron called. Turning back when no one replied he was meet by an empty trail. “Corana?” he called out, his heart suddenly dropping around his knees.

Gripping his sword he slowly began to backtrack, the taste of copper on the back of his tongue. “CORANA!” he shouted to no avail. It was then that he noticed the forest was far too quiet. In the dead silence of the forest the creaking of wood sound like a thundering bolt of lightning.

Jumping to the side in a flash of instinct he gasped as a thick tree root whipped at terrifying speed below his feet. It cut through other tree roots and brush like a knife, leaving a jagged line of destruction in its path. He dove aside again as a branch whipped through the space he’d paused to look, heavy and deadly.

Before he could even catch his breath the earth it self shook, splitting open the forest floor. A deafening sound of rock crushing rock echoed ahead of him. Grasping his sword tight, Arron ran across the shacking ground towards the sound, hoping desperately it was what he thought it might be. A great stone hand erupted from the earth right in front of him, causing him to skid to a stop to avoid a collision, and then the earth god pulled himself from the ground, hand over hand. When he cleared the opening, Corana followed, covered in fine dirt.

“Tree god or something, trying to kill me!” he summed up, rushing past the earth god, who simply stood and waited.

The tree approached quickly, roots pulling up and carrying it around like feet, limbs swinging ponderously, heavily in Arron’s direction. But the earth god somehow was in the way, no matter where it swung. The tree seemed uninterested in attacking the earth god, and the earth god simply did not move, and yet the clash of wills filled the air with an electric intensity.

In an instant the decision was made, the tree lashed out against the earth god. The stone man took the strike with a shudder, chips of rock flying off with a crack, then unfolded again and one stone fist took hold of the branch and twisted. A deafening snap left the large branch broken at the trunk of the tree, hanging limply by the flexing fibers connecting it still. The tree lashed out again, and another branch broke against the rock’s strength. The tree kept attacking and the earth god simply kept breaking branches off until the tree lay trembling, a ruined trunk on the forest floor.

“What in the hells was that all about? I didn’t do anything to that tree!” Arron gasped from behind the earth god as the downed trunk shuddered again in a broken attempt to get up and fight still.

“It is an aspect of the forest god. Perhaps driven mad by the fairies and the encroaching of the boundary of the savage land. I can not guess why it came for you, but I would prefer not to wait for it to grow again and explain to us.”

---

“Wow, this place is amazing!” Rana remarked as she spun around slowly to take in the vast gorge cut deep into the mountainside. To the left and right of her were sheer cliffs lined with caves, all linked by an interlocking network of roped bridges connecting both sides of the vast gorge. Greta watched her excited friend with a small smile, more entranced by Rana than by the scenery.

Larenmireil smiled and continued to explain the history of the Windrunner caves. “The caves were carved in the cliff before even we elves settled here, by the wind.”

Rana nodded as she looked up the cliffside where many hundreds of natural wind-carved caves dotted its face.

“We’ve added our own touches of course, but we used mind magic to do so. That’s why there are no sharp corners, everything is smooth and flowing like this. We try very hard to keep the natural beauty of this place alive, as a way of venerating the goddess of the wind who visits the mountain top constantly. It is her home, as much as wind can ever have a home.” Larenmireil explained, as she guided Rana and Greta among the caves. Sculpted walkways zigzagged up the face of the cliff from one cave to another, much like streets in a city, but far cleaner.

Greta listened quietly, watching the two of them discuss the mostly-natural architecture. She’d heard the explanation when she was younger and seen it several times since, but it still amazed her. Even so, most of her attention was on Rana and Larenmireil. She was so grateful Rana was alive, and she really did love both her and Larenmireil. She just wasn’t sure *how* she loved them anymore. She couldn’t deny she was jealous of the way Rana felt about Larenmireil, but was it friendship jealousy or love jealousy? Could she even love a girl like that, since Rana was apparently going to be a girl regardless of her wants?

Larenmireil grabbed both their arms, pulling them past a series of turns up the mountain path. “This is my favorite spot!” she giggled while waving towards Mount Erdrissar. Greta watched Rana’s eyes bug open as she took in the view. From their position they could see the entire back side of the mountain with its frosted snow-covered peaks.

“It’s so tall...” Greta heard Rana mutter in awe.

“And beautiful... at night if you watch the peaks you can sometimes see the Goddess dance. She fills the sky with swirling colors and lights, like a great shining curtain hanging from the sky! She tells us things, too, the elders spend weeks just listening to her. She brings news of all things, great and small.”

“Is she visiting now, Larenmireil? It would be wonderful if we could all watch her together tonight.” Greta asked, with a glance to Rana, “If Madame Eludrale allows it of course. Remember, we can’t keep Rana out here long or she’ll come looking for us.”

“I’m afraid not, the goddess has not been seen for many months now.”

“Many months? Isn’t that strange though? I thought she visited often!” Larenmireil shook her head at Greta’s question.

“She usually does, but the gods do as they will, and occasionally she does not come for years even.” Laenmireil answered. Rana still seemed overwhelmed by the beauty of the space, or maybe just stunned by the towering cliffs hanging overhead.

Greta felt her heart sink, the goddess dance was something she had seen only once when she was a child. She had hoped this year she final be able to catch it. “We’d better get back then, I’ll bet you’re hungry Rana.”

“I wish she was here too. That dance sounds like a really wonderful thing to see. I bet even Granth would enjoy it.”

Greta paused for a moment “She can see and listen to us?” For some reason the idea that a dragon had been spying on them their whole trip was unsettling

“I’m... not sure. I hadn’t really thought about it, but... Hmmm, she couldn’t even talk to me until the other day, so I guess probably not. I don’t know though. I mean, I had this weird dream where I met her face to face, sort of... I don’t know how much of it was real or a dream even.”

“Come on, let’s go eat. Essinobria makes the most wonderful baked goods in the village, and she always has extra to sell to travellers. Her longfruit and nut bread will make you want to stay forever!” Larenmireil took up both Rana’s and Greta’s hands and led the way, and Greta decided not to worry about the dragon for now.