“Don’t you recognize your best friend, Arron?” He stared at her again and she bared her teeth at him in what could, possibly, be taken for a smile by the truly unobservant.

Arron shuffled awkwardly through the knee deep snow. The chill of the wind had long since numbed his face and hands. Neither he nor Corana were dressed for the snowy mountain peak, and it showed. She looked pale and half asleep.

Cupping his hands to his mouth he exhaled in a vain attempt to warm his fingers. “We have to find shelter or we’ll never make it, Corana!” he shouted over the wind. She nodded listlessly. He worried she might be close to passing out, and that would mean almost certain death. He was too tired to carry her much further himself.

A dark spot in the wall of ice they’d been following downward gave him hope however, a cave would at least block the freezing wind.

“This way!” he led Corana by the arm, his own fatigue building by the second. The pair struggled their way down to the opening, she tripped several times along the way and Arron found himself leaning against her for support just as she leaned against him. As they stepped into the dark opening, she lifted a hand and mumbled. A sick, flickering light wobbled weakly in the air above her palm.

The cave was much larger than Arron would have liked. Large beasts and the like would be drawn to such a vast shelter. Besides, the possibility of it connecting to a larger network of tunnels seemed likely, and he did not want to get lost. Still, it was better than freezing to death.

“Over there...” Corana mumbled drowsily, pointing to a small alcove a bit further in, but close enough that the entrance was visible. They worked their way to the corner and fell to their knees almost as one, before struggling to find comfortable positions to rest. Arron decided it would be best to try and keep her awake, at least until he could warm her up.

“So, now that we’ve broken the two rituals we could find, what next?” He slid closer to her, trying to share his warmth. The stone floor of the cave seemed determined to leech it all away, even more than the air now that the wind was muted.

“G-g-go back t-to Ac-cademy... Take c-care of the city... B-b-banish Xabriar. Th-th-the usual.” Her eyes started to droop towards the end of her sentence.

“Oh no you don’t!” Arron yelled as he huddled close to Corana. “We both go home or we both die here.”

“N-n-ot sleeping... Just... resting my eyes. I can... warm us-s up...” She picked up a rock from the floor, a jagged chunk perhaps broken from the ceiling by the freezing and thawing of ice throughout the year. Before he could try to stop her, she mumbled a word and the rock turned a dull red. She dropped it on the ground between them.

“That was great, Corana, but you shouldn’t overdo it.” He held her close as she slumped, breathing softly. That last spell had drained whatever energy she’d had left to kept her awake.

---

Hours passed, Arron had kept watch only drifting off to sleep for the briefest of moments. The heated rock had died down an hour ago. It was becoming painfully clear that the weather would not lighten up. He hazarded the temperature stayed well below freezing year round here, only being hospitable at the zenith of summer.

“You there, young man!” Arron turned his head slowly towards the cave entrance, where his blurry eyes spied a white haired yeti stumbling into the cave. “Have you seen my Tinkerbelle?” Shaking his head at the nonsense, Arron groaned. Hallucinations he did not need.

“Pity, that, I was sure I’d seen him come this way. Are you alright there, boy? You look a bit pale. Should eat more, you’ll catch your death that way.” the yeti remarked as he tossed two large white rabbit furred coats on top of the two.

“You kids should dress better, too. It’s a little brisk out today. Didn’t your mother ever teach you to dress for the cold? I’ve half a mind to tie your mittens on a string!” Arron didn’t move at first, but the coat that landed on him felt pretty real. He slipped it on, then put the other on Corana. It was difficult, as limp and unresponsive as she was.

“You are real?” Arron asked, still unsure.

“Last time I checked. But you can never be too sure of things.” The old man who apparently was not a yeti patted at himself as if checking to be certain he was in fact there. “It seems I am real today. Very good, now let us get a hot meal going.” He said, nodding with a grin.

Pulling a red checkered tablecloth from his sleeve, he whipped it around wildly and tossed it onto the ground, speaking eldritch words of power. “Hocus pocus presto!” the man shouted as a puff of smoke rose from the cloth.

When the smoke cleared, a steaming basket of bread rolls, a hot beef roast and several dishes of vegetables and breads were resting on the cloth. All of it radiated warmth and comforting, mouthwatering scents.

“That ought to bring Tinkerbelle running, he never could resist a good roast!” the old man paused, briefly looking about as if expecting his animal to appear from the darkness, but nothing moved in the shadows. “Being stubborn are we? Well then no food for you! Such a waste though. You boy, eat your fill, and your girlfriend too. No point in wasting good food.” Even as the old man spoke, Arron felt Corana stir in his lap, no doubt roused by the smell of food.

Arron nodded, still unsure if what we was witnessing wasn’t just the dreams of a dying man. But dream or no, he might as well enjoy it. He helped Corana to sit up, sliding close to the cloth, and handed her a warm roll. It nearly burned his fingers, but not quite. After a few moments of hesitation, they both began to eat with the unrestrained fervor of starving people.

Arron felt better and better with every bite. He snuck a glance at Corana, and she looked more pink and less blue by the second. “Self heating meals, newest invention. Warms a person from the inside out.” the man cackled in glee.

As the minutes passed and they ate in silence, the old man wandered around the dark cave, calling out. “Tinkerbelle! Come here you stupid mutt! Oh, you rascal, you’ve gone and run away again, haven’t you? You’re not even here. Oh, bother. Say, it’s a bit chilly in here, isn’t it? Not really much of a home. Still, I’m not one to criticize where others choose to live. Maybe you two should come stand near the fire, warm up a bit.”

He pointed to a section of the cave further in, and Arron could see the flickering light of a fire, just beyond an outcropping of rock. He helped Corana to her feet.

“Can we trust this crazy old man, Arron?” she whispered to him.

“If he meant us harm, he could have just left us to die. Instead he fed us, gave us warm clothing, and somehow made a fire. He may be crazy, but he’s harmless. Besides, he just seems trustworthy, somehow.”

Corana nodded uncertainly, and allowed him to lead her toward the firelight. He didn’t notice until he passed directly under it, that the outcropping was actually a carved archway, covered with strange symbols that lit up as they passed underneath.

“Oh dear...” were the last words he heard as the world shattered like a thousand pieces of glass.

Then he saw fire, roaring, billowing white flames, so bright they hurt to look at even indirectly. So hot that he thought he might burn up. Roaring like an avalanche, only a few feet away. And then just as suddenly, the fire was gone, leaving spots in his vision and ringing in his ears.

As his eyesight cleared up, a dragon, all terrifying claws, teeth, horns and scales, stood before him. Liquid fire danced around it on the stone. Next to it stood a beautiful elf woman in white, possibly a maiden sacrifice to the beast. They all stood atop a great tower, so high in the sky the clouds looked tiny below, and the air was so thin he could hardly breathe.

The dragons eyes opened wide as it look at them, maw open wide in ravenous hunger, acid spit dribbling from its razor sharp teeth. Arron gasped then the world came spinning around as he fainted.

---

Greta held her dead friend’s hand silently. Things had been so quiet after Rana left, until the blast rang through the temple. Flashes of white and yellow flame reflected blindly off of the gray stone, and then only silence.

Larenmireil was still cold, still dead. Nothing had happened. A dark thought ran through her mind: maybe Rana had failed. A part of her denied that it could be true, Rana was too strong, too innately good to fail at something so important as this.

A rush of warm wind pulled her attention from Larenmireil’s form. Turning her head to the ceiling of the temple, she watched a distant yellow flickering light drift slowly downwards. As it approached she momentarily though she was looking at an angel. Great wings of light flapped distantly.

A heart beat later Greta gasped as the distant form came into clear view. Floating down from the sky was naked girl, wrapped in a halo of blond hair that reached down past her hips. Countless red scales speckled her sides, tracing long complex swirls across her peach skin. Wings of yellow flame spread out from her back in a wide circling embrace as she landed, surrounding Greta and Larenmireil. The wings burned, but they did not seem hot around her, just comforting and warm.

Her wings spread open wide, then vanished like the flickering flame of a candle. Kneeling down on both legs she rested her small round naked butt onto her feet. Greta could hardly believe what she was seeing. “Rana?”

“It’s me.“ she said with smiling face. Greta simply nodded, at a loss for words. Rana had changed, but it was rather subtle really. A million tiny changes added together to transform her from a cute city girl into a breathtaking goddess. But that’s not what grabbed her attention the most, it was the change in body language.

She no longer seemed out of place in her own skin. Every breath, every movement seemed natural. It was like someone had taken all her self doubts and cast them away like dirty water from the window. She was at home in her own skin, and the realization for Greta seemed profound. “What happened to her up there?” she thought for a moment.

“The wind goddess gave me this.” She held up a small whirlwind, the tiniest storm imaginable in the palm of her delicate clawed hand. “She said it was the breath of life, and I had to breathe it into Larenmireil.”

Greta could only nod in wonder. The goddess truly was powerful, to produce such a thing! She watched as Rana put the whirlwind to her mouth, then leaned forward and gently kissed Larenmireil. It reminded her of the moment in many stories, where the kiss of true love would break some horrible magical spell. And just like the stories, Larenmireil drew a deep gasping breath as her eyes fluttered open. Swing to her side she then proceed to cough clearing her throat and lungs of blood and other unpleasantness in a splattery mess.

Greta watched in disgust at the scene as Larenmireil spat out the last bits. But Larenmireil ignored it and reached up to put her arms around Rana’s neck, drawing her into a far more serious kiss. Rana didn’t seem to mind. By the time they were finished, even Greta was breathing heavily.

“Thank you for bringing me back, Rana. And Greta... There’s something I’ve been meaning to give you, and after what just happened, I don’t want to wait any more.” She untangled herself from Rana, who leaned back with a dazzled sort of smile. Greta realized at that moment that she had lost Rana to Larenmireil. She held out her hand for whatever consolation prize Larenmireil might have to offer, but was surprised when Larenmireil took her hand and drew her down into a kiss to rival the one she had given Rana! When she drew away, Greta had to lean against Rana to keep from falling to the ground.

“Wha...?” Rana was giggling next to her, and Larenmireil looked much like a cat with a feather hanging from its mouth.

“I thought we had all the time in the world to decide how we felt about each other. I was wrong. We have now, and we might not even have tomorrow. Rana, Greta, I love both of you, and I can not keep my silence about it any longer. I know it is not the human way, b-”

“Larenmireil, you’re babbling. We know.” Rana’s voice was gentle, caring, and it made Greta want to melt almost as much as the kiss had.

“Greta, do you think you would be willing to try, the three of us, even though you’re human, Larenmireil is elven, and I am now fully dragon?” Greta nodded almost without thinking, before the full import of Rana’s words caught her attention.

“You’re a dragon now? Completely?” Rana nodded.

“Not a normal dragon by any means, but yes. This form is me now, I’ve accepted it. I think I can be happy, happier than I ever could have as Rall, so long as I have Larenmireil and you, Greta.”

Larenmireil leaned into Rana shoulder. “Your name was Rall?” she half asked, half stated. “ I like Rana better, it suits you.” Greta nodded her a agreement

Rana grabbed the two of them in a hug. “Yes, I think it does... But I should still ask Mom and Dad, just to be sure.”

----

The hug felt like home. Rana could hold these two and never let them go. But she did let go, after long minutes.

A distant rush of wind caught her attention and interrupted her moment of serenity, to her annoyance. Nothing ever seemed to slow down for even a moment! What she wouldn’t give for just a day to laze about with Greta and Larenmireil, to make up for lost time.

“What about Granth?” Greta asked her. She had been thinking about how to answer this question, knowing it would come up soon.

“She’s right here with me, inside me. We share everything now, thoughts and feelings. We’re still working on our differences, but it will work out. Can you still love me, knowing you have to accept her as well?” Rana suddenly felt smaller, less confident. Greta grinned at her and put a hand on Larenmireil’s shoulder.

“If I can put up with this dragon, I can put up with Granth.” Larenmireil laughed at her and swatted her hand away, and Rana smiled. She knew then that it would be alright. Then another voice interrupted.

“I believe you forgot something in your rush.” tsked a distantly airy voice from above. A flash ran through her mind as she briefly remembered the group of people that suddenly appeared before her at the apex of the joining.

‘What of these mortals?’ Granth’s mental voice echoed powerfully in her head. “Lower your voice, Granth, you’re making my head ring! Arron?” She shouted suddenly, seeing her best friend fall from the sky in a heap, alongside a woman with one hand.

“Umm, do I know you?” Arron said as his face turn red. For a moment Rana couldn’t understand the odd stare he was giving her. It was a cross between embarrassment and hunger. She realized what was wrong when he took off his rabbit fur coat and settled it over her shoulders.

“Miss, you shouldn’t walk around naked like that. What would you have done if someone less honorable saw you like that? Here, cover yourself, woman!” The woman with the one hand offered him a wry glance that he didn’t seem to notice at all.

Rana paused, something about the way Arron lectured rubbed her the wrong way. Clenching her first tight enough to feel claw tips against her palms, she fought the impulse to roar for half a heart beat, until Granth start screaming in her ear to rip the little gnats head off for insulting her perfect form. Startled by the sudden vicious impulse, she stopped and thought about her response a moment.

“Don’t you recognize your best friend, Arron?” He stared at her again and she bared her teeth at him in what could, possibly, be taken for a smile by the truly unobservant.

“R... Rall?” He sounded uncertain. “That can’t be you...” He trailed off as she breezed across the floor, paying no mind to the coat falling from her shoulders, and punched him in the face.

“In the flesh.” She offered, as he reeled and put a hand to his face. He had his sword half out of its scabbard, but did not strike back.

“I’ve been through some changes. It turns out I’m a powerful sorcerer, and now I’m a dragon too. Oh, and a girl.” She smirked as he spit blood on the floor from a split lip. Larenmireil looked shocked by the violence, and Rana remembered suddenly that she was not supposed to do violence here.

“But... That isn’t even possible! Is it?” He looked at the one armed woman, who shrugged at him.

“You’ve dug your own pit here, I’ll have no part of it.” She seemed to be a smart woman.

“So, what do you think then? Since you got a good look at *all* of the changes.”

“But...” He looked confused still, and she grew yet more frustrated.

“Remember when we snuck in to the brewer’s shed and got drunk on brandy? How my mom paddled us both senseless? It’s me. But, I’m still going by Rana.” She let go of her anger from before, this was her friend alright. Only he could so stubbornly refuse to see the obvious.

“Rall... Rana! You’re definitely different. Wow are you different...” The one-armed woman slapped him in the back of the head at that point.

“And I am Corana, High Mage of the Academy of Magic at Gaerbron. Are you the apprentice who suffered under Xabriar then? If so I very much apologize. I should have seen it, and never allowed him an apprentice.” She nodded her head in a graceful gesture somewhere between greeting and apology.

“There’s no need to apologize for what he did. If it wasn’t me it would have been someone else, and look where I ended up.” Rana indicated the girls on either side of her.

“A dragon now you say? That must be an interesting story...” Corana remarked as she gave Rana a good looking over, her eyes briefing pausing over her scales. Flashing her talon-like red nails for Corana’s viewing pleasure, she smiled towards the woman. “All dragon, kind of. Granth says the dragon form takes too much energy to maintain for now, so this is what I look like when in a humanoid form.”

“I’m still confused... how did this happen Rall?” Arron questioned. “You were dressed as a girl leaving for Lussax, last I saw.”

“It was the sword all along, Arron. That rusty sword Xabriar sent to be melted down? It was some kind of ancient seal used to imprison Granth, and he damaged the seal to draw out her energy and use it to make these... spells.” Arron nodded, and Rana shrugged. “I broke it when the wind goddess broke the spell above us, and Granth sort of... became part of me.”

“A sword?” Corrana muttered “Was it a short sword covered in runes, made of silver steel, in an old Imperial design?”

Rana nodded “Not sure about the metal, but there were a lot of fire runes and it was Imperial, according to Martello.”

Corana clutched her fist, a bitter rage flashing across her face. “That sneaky old bastard stole it, from the Academy vaults. He framed my mentor, an archivist working within the vault, as a false witness who claimed my teacher stole and sold it across the northern border! That was nearly four years ago, and Master Sortel is still trying to rebuild his life from the shambles!”

Shaking her head in shock, Corana continued, “To think the sword that ruined my friend’s life and brought to my attention Xabriar’s wickedness would be the very same sword that has drawn you into this affair...”

A gentle voice answered her, “Things of great power tend to affect many lives in various ways.” Rana watched in awe as a gust of wind twisted and turned from behind Corana, slowly becoming more solid until it took the appearance of the elven woman that had helped her not an hour before. “It is fate that has drawn all of you to this place and time. Now that the four rituals drawing magic from the land have been broken, the sorcerer who has done all of this has become desperate, and made a contract with the enemy of all life.”

Corana bowed respectfully towards the goddess. “What has Xabriar done?” Rana could hear the resolve in her voice. She had determination and an obvious grudge against Rana’s old master. But she suspected many people did, herself among them.

“The one you call Xabriar has given himself to the services of those beings from the realm of suffering for the power he needs to breach the heavens.” She sighed in disappointment, “It is beyond my ability to act against him. My winds, my lands, are being threatened by the ones who sleep in the heavens as we speak. To act against the sorcerer now would forfeit my lands and all of the protection I offer from the threat of the mortal gods of the north. Xabriar has done greater harm with his rituals, his distractions and damages to the natural powers have broken our front. We nature gods must now rally our forces to stave off attack.”

Rana nodded, “I have heard and seen of the damages the mortal gods can do. The seal that trapped Granth was made by one such.”

“Do you mean this?” the wind goddess held forth a short sword, the very rusted sword that caused the whole thing, out to Rana. It was whole again, but the runes were different now, and it shone golden instead of silver, with not a single blemish of decay. Six gems studded the crosspiece on either side, stones Rana recognized: they were the stones she picked up by the river travelling to Lussax! She reached for it hesitantly.

“Do not fear, it is no longer a trap for your other-self. It seemed a waste to discard such a puzzling piece of magic, and those stones called out to it.”

Her hands jerked towards the sword suddenly as she caught sight of the ember red stones. “They are *mine*.” She wasn’t sure how else to explain it, but both the wind goddess and Corana nodded as if they understood.

“That sword is no longer a seal, it is a focus. It will help you as you learn and grow into your power, and may save your life in the days to come.”

Rana nodded as she grasped the sword by its hilt. She marveled at how easily her fingers fit the leather bound hilt. And the sensation of the sword’s well-balanced weight pulling her muscles taut was so familiar that she wondered briefly how she could ever have thrown such a magnificent thing off the side of a ferry.

“So what now?” Greta voiced, catching Rana’s attention from the twinkling stones again.

“Umm, can we get Rall... Rana some clothes?” asked a red-faced Arron. She chuckled in response.

An amused mental nudge from the back of her mind gave her pause for a moment. “Hang on, I think I can do something...” She focused on her body, her scales, envisioning them covering more of her, like armor. She could feel Granth working in unison with her, just as she could feel the scales shifting and growing from her skin.

“How’s that?” She looked down at her form then up at Arron who nodded, a stunned expression dominating his face.

Sliding her hand over the skin-tight red leather-scaled breastplate, she rolled her shoulders back and stretched out to get a feel for how it moved. She had once tried on Arron’s guard armour; besides it not fitting properly the biggest impression she had of it was how it limited her movements. But this moved just like her own skin. It left her arms and hands uncovered save for scaly bracer that covered her whole forearms with sharp-edged scales that stuck out at wicked angles. And she couldn’t help noticing it subtly emphasized her curves.

The leggings where made up of countless overlapping scales that moved with seamless fluidity, the scales so soft and fine it it seemed more like a second skin than any sort of protection. The boots though, felt solid. They wrapped tightly over her knees, the leather as thick as her breast plate, but the scales were much larger, almost like metal plates. A couple of quick steps forward assured her that the fit was perfect, and her balance unaltered.

“That’s some armor, Rana...” Greta whistled appreciatively and Arron looked determinedly straight into Rana’s eyes. His face had turned a shade of red that Rana was certain perfectly matched her scales.

Grabbing his discarded coat he quickly draped it over her. “We must get clothing for Rana!”

She shrugged the coat back off and handed it to him. “Arron, I know it’s a big adjustment for you, but I am who I am and clothing isn’t going to change it anymore.” He stood there with a kind of frustrated and confused expression. Sighing she patted him on the shoulder. “We can deal with this later.”

“I think it suits her.” Larenmireil offered weakly from her position on the ground, head still pillowed in Greta’s lap. “She is strong and beautiful, and it shows.”

Corana nodded her agreement and Arron threw his hands up in defeat. Corana smirked a bit at Arron’s frustration then turned back towards the group “We do have more pressing matters than discussing fashion. I speak of what to do about Xabriar.”

Rana nodded uncertainly. “What is it that my former master is trying to accomplish?”

Corana paused for a moment, stunned. “You mean you didn’t know? You’ve been undoing his work just as I have...”

Rana shrugged her shoulders. “Not intentionally, Greta and I have been on the run for months. Things just sort of happened, you know?”

“Hmmmm...” Corana mused for a moment. “You might have been attracted to the dragon’s flames unknowingly. Perhaps her own life force drew her, and through the sword, you.”

“In any case, he means to become a new god. We’ve destroyed four of his rituals, all together, but there should be a last one by my calculations, somewhere in the western mountain range. Even with only one of these rituals he can rebuild the rest else where, and will be a truly dangerous opponent.”

“If we have destroyed all his rituals that should make him weak, right?” Greta piped in.

“Possibly.” Corana acknowledged. “But I feel it may be more a set back than anything. It might be enough to give us a fighting chance. The rituals have been sending a staggering amount of energy to his tower for a while now, who knows what he might have done in that time to prepare?”

“Should we return to Gaerbron and inform the council?” Arron asked.

“Or seek aid from Lussax?” Greta echoed Arron thoughts.

“Time is short, he grows in power with each passing moment. Xabriar has allied himself with those beings who despise all life, and through that alliance all may be undone. You must go now to the burning mountain in the west and face him. I shall send you, but it is all I may do.” the wind goddess told the group, silencing everyone.

“You, daughter, must return to your village and recover, for the ferryman very nearly took payment for your passage. Such things are hard on mortal bodies.” she directed Larenmireil, who was crestfallen at the command, even though her exhaustion was obvious.

Sheathing her newly reforged sword Rana addressed the group her voice shaking. “I’m going. I think I’ve messed up enough of Xabriar’s plans that if he isn’t defeated, then I’m as good as dead anyways.” shrugging her shoulders at Greta half convinced look. “Besides, I’m a dragon, right?”

“If you’re going, then I’m going.” Greta said decisively as she marched up next to her. “You will not leave me behind, do you hear me?” Rana smiled and nodded to her, quite certain the fiery girl meant it.

Arron was about to protest, but Corana intervened before a word left his mouth. “These two are already known to Xabriar by now, there is no point in them hiding. And they have already shown that they are capable enough. If they are willing to accept the risks then we are better for their aid.”

Rana could tell that he still wished to argue, but the steadfast look from Corana checked his tongue. “He must really like her.” she whispered into Greta’s ear.

Corana turned to the air goddess with a quick bow. “I believe we are all in agreement. I wish to humbly ask, goddess of the winds, for your aid in sending us to Xabriar. ”

The goddess’ body dispersed into a powerful gale that swept through the temple, forcing Rana’s eyes shut. “So be it. I will provide you the means to reach him, but it is left to you to face him. Do not fail.” The winds hissed and shrieked through her ears.

Cracking open an eyelid, Rana watched with blurry vision as the winds began to twist through the temple and a miniature white cyclone took shape. Gasping she watched the top reach upwards toward the ceiling. In a blink of an eye it curved down, ramming itself into the temple walls. The winds beat against the stone almost as if trying to drill though. For a moment Rana thought her eyes had begun to play tricks as she watched the the stone wall slowly start to melt and twist like thick cream soup being stirred.

The winds pounded relentlessly against the misshapen wall until something gave. To Rana it sounded a lot like a loud plop, kind of like a the stones she and Arron use to skip in the river. Tentatively stepping forward, Rana inspected the site curiously. Where the winds had struck was now a kind of hole, its edges blurred and magnified and seeming to ripple in the light. Beyond the edge was a pale blue color, with wisps of white.

Corana spoke up, her voice tinged with awe. “She... made a link through the ley lines! It will carry us along them like water through an aqueduct. I never would have imagined such a thing could be done...”

A blast of wind, hot, fetid and stinking, escaped the hole as it pulsed with energy.”Go now, I can not hold this passage for long.” A whirling distant voice beckoned.

Pinching her nose Rana wondered briefly how she had gotten herself into this whole little adventure. But she didn’t allow herself to dwell on such thoughts, running past Corana, Rana jumped. “No looking back now!” she shouted out as she passed through the opening.

“No fair!” Rana heard Greta call from behind her.

The air current in the tunnel gently pulled Rana along. It felt like slowly drifting down river in a fishing boat. Beyond the transparent wall of the tunnel Rana could almost make out blurred outlines of mountains and rivers as they drifted by so... far... below...

She gulped, trying not to see, but it was obvious everywhere she looked that she was *far* above the ground, held aloft by nothing she could see or even really feel. And she was going faster now than when she started. The mountains approached from the west at startling speed, then zipped below her like the elves’ arrows when they were chasing that assassin. Until finally the images blurred into a stream of color that stream across the sky.

Rana could feel herself panicking, her heart raced and the only coherent thought in her her mind was to escape. Grasping on to the power the reside within her she tried desperately to spread her wings.

“Calm yourself.” Granth deep throaty voice soothed from a deep corner of their combined mind that she had taken up residency in. “Release our power here and you will not only kill us but your companions as well. This is magic beyond your understanding as of yet, and you dare not disturb it.”

Rana tried to close her eyes and ignore it, but she could still see. In fact, she only just then realized that she couldn’t close her eyes or look away because she didn’t have them. Or anything else except her sense of self and her perceptions. As the realization struck her that she did not in fact have a body, she suddenly did. And she banged several bits of that body painfully, landing on hot hard jagged stone. The air reeked with the stench of sulfur and decay, a choking miasma that clung to her lungs disgustingly. A noise behind her caused her to turn around.

Greta neatly crested though the air like a behemoth breaking water. Then she fell directly on top of Rana, screaming with glee. “That was incredible,” she gasped catching her breath while crawling off of Rana’s chest, “... we have got to go again!”

“No!” Rana yelled, both at Greta’s suggestion, and the descending Arron. Rolling to her side she barely vacated Arron’s landing spot. Corana quickly followed suit, fortunately for her Arron made a nice landing mat.

“It’s not exactly home...” Corana commented as Rana looked around the expansive crater. Shards of sharp black volcanic glass littered the crater like countless stone knives. A distant bubbling orange lake of thick liquid radiated an intense heat that could be felt even from where they stood.

“Oh gods, this heat is unbearable!” Greta complained from beside her, fanning herself. Rana could feel it but didn’t find it uncomfortable; if anything it was almost pleasant. ‘Although the smell could be better,’ she thought while wrinkling her nose.

Rana tried to ignore the stench as she took in the true horror of the landscape. Foul creatures wandered the crater, twisted and cruel-looking, no two similar but all alike in their expressions of hateful glee. Some battled each other, others tortured the rare living thing found scuttling the crater. And the nearest had begun to notice the group. In the distance, straight ahead, Rana could sense something dark and malevolent growing.

“Demons” Rana heard Corana’s light voice whisper with utter contempt. “Lesser ones, but quite deadly. We must fight.”

Gripping the hilt of her sword Rana slowly unsheathed. “There’s so many...” she muttered as her eyes darted across the broken landscape. Countless creatures that darted back and forth wildly between outcroppings of rock, hunting each other for sport in the distant darkness of the great caves that ran along the sides of crater. Rana thought she could see movement in the blackness, outlines of vast things that she had once seen in a nightmare while sleeping in Xabriar’s library.

“The lesser ones don’t fight as a team, and are as likely to destroy each other as to attack us. Focus on one foe at a time, and guard each other’s backs. And for the First’s sake, stay away from the big ones.”

They moved forward as a group, trying not to make more noise than necessary on the broken stone. As they approached a rock outcropping, the first demon struck from a shadow. It pounced and struck faster then Rana could properly follow, its hideously deformed arm stretching beyond natural limits. Rana suppressed a urge to throw up as its arms finally split open from the stress, flesh and bone parting while black blood sprayed wildly about. It then whipped its self-mangled arm towards Arron. Rana watched in horror as it stretched like a whip, the flesh growing and healing as its black claws reached unnatural speeds.

But Arron was prepared, his sword at the ready. The whip-like attack’s timing was easy for him to predict. Half-stepping to the side the moment before impact, he swung downward into the creatures arm. The strike cut through cleanly, forcing the demon to an awkward roll as it landed.

“Idicium Divine!” Corana spoke words that felt familiar to Rana, and a flash of light lanced out from her wand to the creature, which erupted into motes of blackness that themselves faded into nothing.

“More will come.” Corana affirmed. “Arron prepare to defend me as I destroy them. Greta, your knife should prove effective, as should your sword, Rana. Now might be a good chance to practice some combat magic, if you know any such. If not, learn quickly.”

Rana could see Greta clenching her teeth, and even hear the slight grinding sound. It was perhaps a bit presumptuous of Corana to simply take command like she did, but then, none of the rest had any experience fighting such creatures. A high pitched whining cry pierced the air from the distance as a creature seem to finally take notice. Slowly turning, Rana listened as more cries echoed all around her.

“They are gathering...” Arron whispered, his sword held at the ready.

Before she could think any further on the matter, a black claw lashed out at her. She took it on her scales, but Greta seemed to take personal offense at the attack.

“You filth, get your claws off of her!” Rana watched as Greta savagely slashed at the thing; her knife flowed effortlessly with her strikes, parting black demonic flesh like thick cream. A clawed arm dropped to the ground as Rana brought her sword to bear. The demon, leaking purplish ichor and grimacing with pain and hate, tried to turn tail and flee but Rana’s sword sank into its skull with a wet crunch.

Back to back, the four inched forward, fighting demons and other creatures of nightmare as they approached. None of the demons stayed close for long. The cowardly beasts gathered just out of blade’s reach, until shoved forward by their own numbers to be chopped to bits by blade or blasted into nothingness by Corana’s magics. The fighting was actually not too difficult for each individual enemy, and they never attacked together. In fact, several times Rana was quite certain one of the demons shoved another forward directly onto her sword, intentionally.

But the constant influx of enemies was wearying, and there seemed no end to the demons. Somehow in the chaos, Arron and Corana became separated from Greta and Rana.

“There are too many! We’ll never make it!” Greta called over her shoulder, and Rana shook her head grimly.

“We’re so close, we just have to reach him and..” She didn’t know what would come next. All semblance of a plan had dissolved under the relentless onslaught. But she was certain she would do something.

Just then Greta cried out in pain behind her. Rana chopped with the sword, cutting cleanly through four demons that had rushed forward to capitalize on the downed girl, and clearing a small space around her. She glanced back to find Greta cut deeply along her ribs, the wound already an angry red color as blood leaked slowly out.

The demons cackled at her, jeering from a distance in a large circle, darting in to attack from her back. Confident in their own safety they cackled and taunted. She hated them! She felt as if her soul itself were burning with hate. “Destroy them!” Granth’s voice seethed in her mind.

Gripping her the hilt of her sword she allowed the anger and frustration to pour into her focus. White hot runes etched themselves across her blade as power pulsed with the beat of her pounding heart. The ground vibrated and the air thumped more powerfully with each passing second. “Now!” Granth’s voice called, without thought or reason Rana thrust the sword deep into the ground.

Pillars of white flames cracked then burst through the earth, radiating out like ripples in the surface of a pond, but more destructive than a tidal wave. The shattered bodies of demons flew about like ragdolls, others burnt to nothing in the flashes of white light. It seemed to last forever, crashing with a horrific sound and fury. When the earth once again settled, only Rana and Greta remained, unmoved by the destruction around them.

Greta was working her way to her feet, her shirt torn to improvise a bandage over her side. She looked horribly pale, but she stood firmly once righted, and held her dagger with confidence.

“That was... pretty amazing, Rana. Let’s go, they won’t want to face you again for a while, so maybe we can reach Xabriar.”

“You’re hurt!” Rana couldn’t help stating the obvious.

“I’ll be okay,” Greta lied badly, “Focus on what we came here to do.” Sliding in next to her, Rana compressed her hand over Greta’s midsection to help stem the bleeding.