With These Wings I Soar 2

The trek taxed Adaklies’s patience, not her stamina.

She kept her distance from Greyemeid. The general seemed to know a little too much and her eyes were too observant, like she was soaking in all Adaklies’s subtle tells and assembling them into some kind of weapon. People like that were too concerned with their own complexity.

Over her shoulder, Adaklies saw Jonas and Greyemeid talking. There was no hugging, no touching, and Greyemeid’s stride kept a careful distance. Adaklies wondered if Jonas realized it.

As their voices drifted over to her, she was tempted to slow her step and listen in, but that wasn’t worth getting into another tangle with Greyemeid today. Instead, Adaklies kept her attention on the trail ahead. The army’s fresh trail soon diverted from their destination and the three were back in the wilderness.

Once the path cleared up a bit, Adaklies took wing to confirm their destination. Barely visible in the haze of the horizon was the distinctly-shaped mountains they were headed for: the Dragon’s Horns. The mark the Mother had left on the world upon the advent of the dragon race. No one knew for sure why’d she done it.

They would soon get a chance to ask her herself, if they wanted.

They traveled at a strained pace until nightfall. Adaklies had already laid out her bedroll and started setting up a firepit by the time Greyemeid and Jonas caught up.

“I was a little worried since we didn’t see you all day,” said Jonas, “But you kept leaving tracks to follow so I figured you were fine.”

Adaklies gave him a blank look. “I’m perfectly fine looking after myself.”

“I—ah, never mind. Let’s get a fire going.”

Adaklies stood up. “I’ve got the kindling, just need to find a few larger pieces of dry wood.”

Before she could take so much as a step toward the nearby trees, Greyemeid spoke up. “I’ll help you. Jonas, can you get our tent?”

“Sure,” he said, clearly used to following her orders.

Once they had wandered out of earshot and Jonas was busy with the tent, Adaklies wasn’t surprised when Greyemeid started talking.

“Jonas tells me you can be trusted.” The dead leaves crunched beneath Greyemeid’s steps as she surveyed the ground with Adaklies. “Jonas is also more gullible than he would admit. Who are you with?”

“You think I’m a spy?”

“There was surprisingly little information available on you. You were abruptly introduced into Jonas’s life and have clung onto it for a reason you’ve divulged to neither one of us. Your information on the Mother’s location is yet to be verified. While espionage might be presumptuous, with the given information, you must forgive me if that’s my first conclusion.”

How eloquently said. She detached herself from the facts, treating them if they were sled hounds pulling her unwitting self toward the present conclusion. Like her words were a shield blame could only bounce off of.

Adaklies hated it.

“I’m with myself, general. Your sources didn’t come up with anything because there’s nothing notable about me. What you see is what you get.”

“Then why are you here, Adaklies?”

“Maybe I was bored.”

“While I may understand the power of a dragon chasing her whims, one does not go hunting the demon queen on one.”

Adaklies’s face twisted in thought. That sounded familiar. Where had she heard it before?

“I don’t care what you think I do or don’t do on whims. What I am is here and, until we’ve found the Mother, that is what I’ll be. How about instead of scrutinizing me like Jonas’s overprotective nanny, you grab some wood and do something useful.”

Greyemeid’s glare sparked. While she said nothing more, she did click her tongue, sure to be loud enough for Adaklies to hear.

“I don’t know if you noticed, but he’s halfway decent at looking after himself. He doesn’t need you hounding everyone that crosses his path,” said Adaklies.

Snatching one last piece of wood off the ground, she stomped back to the firepit. The Dragon’s Horns can’t come soon enough.

Jonas crawled out of the tent he’d just finished setting up, sharing an encouraging but somewhat forced smile with Adaklies. “We made a pretty good distance today.”

“Could’ve been better,” she said.

Shrugging, he walked over to the now plentiful pile of kindling. He squatted, reaching in his pack for flint and steel, but paused, looking at Adaklies. “Do you think you could…?”

“Ask the general,” she said, lying down.

“Ah.” He looked up at Greyemeid. “Don’t worry about it, I can get it.”

“It’s fine, dear.”

Instead of lighting the pile with a blast of breath, however, she took the flint and steel from Jonas and set their fire the more traditional way.

“Out of curiosity, why are we not flying to the Dragon’s Horns? You are both dragons—”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed,” said Adaklies.

He shot her a glare and continued, “—and while I know I cannot fly, I figured you—the both of you, that is—would be capable of carrying me.”

Greyemeid pat Jonas on the shoulder. “I believe that’s not something that would happen except in an emergency.”

“Why?”

“A person is a heavy load for two dragons. Furthermore, I do not suffer other dragons carrying you.”

“I appreciate the concern, but I hardly think Adaklies would drop me.”

“You are mine. Not hers. Nor ours. Mine alone.”

“So dragons don’t…”

“I don’t share.”

“I see.”

When neither Greyemeid nor Adaklies picked up the conversation from there, Adaklies could see Jonas struggling to find something else to bring up. He tried to hide the quick looks he gave Adaklies and Greyemeid, but the man was never as subtle as he thought he was.

“What’s the Mother of Dragons like?” he asked.

“Strong,” said Adaklies, “Tall. Beautiful.”

“Overwhelming,” added Greyemeid, “Among other things.”

“So you have met her,” said Adaklies.

“Once.” A smile grew on Greyemeid’s serene face.

“There are a hundred stories of you doing the most outrageous things. Some say you defeated her in combat, but we both know that never happened.”

“True.”

“What drove you to even challenge her?”

“We were to break through a pass and catch up with the bulk of the Second Army on a rush offensive. The Mother was at the pass and refused us entry. The next nearest path was days away and would’ve ruined our plans. I knew better than to have the entire battalion challenge her and risk significant losses, so I challenged her to single combat.”

“Hmm,” said Jonas.

Both dragons looked at him.

“Sorry for interrupting, it’s just that it’s so rare to hear you talk about your time as an officer. Before you were a general.”

“You rarely ask,” said Greyemeid.

“Maybe I should try to ask more often, then.”

Greyemeid laid her arm over Jonas’s shoulder and pulled him in.

He accepted her affection, his posture relaxing as he leaned against her. A second later, however, he winced. While Greyemeid may have appeared endearing at a glance, Adaklies noticed her tail had snuck around Jonas’s leg and was squeezing with a rather unforgiving tension. It was revolting, really.

Speaking of the Mother reminded Adaklies of her drekhel. The fiery, sinister blade that eluded Adaklies still.

Adaklies laid out her hand, opened just enough to hold a hilt, then closed her eyes and concentrated. The memory fresh in her mind, she concentrated on the heat. The way everything fried in a single instant, a single breath. The intensity of the Mother’s glare. The tingling on Adaklies’s skin. The void of power right before the blade appeared and the abundance the moment after.

Adaklies breathed in.

She brought up the heat, the inner fire. Forged that fire to steel. Saw a blade, wicked and fierce, in her hand. Felt the weight and closed her claw around it.

And exhaled.

A puff of smoke and taste of ash filled her mouth and she quickly spat it out. Fortunately, she’d been able to train herself not to cough any more. She opened her eyes, frowning at her still-empty grasp.

When she raised her head, she found Greyemeid’s attention squarely on her. While Jonas was still comfortable on her shoulder, staring at the fire, Greyemeid was in another world entirely. Her eyes were locked on Adaklies’ as if anchored there by some invisible force.

Adaklies swallowed and turned away. Whatever Greyemeid was thinking, she wanted none of it.



**



Such it was all the way up to the Dragon’s Horns. When the massive stone horns finally loomed above them, Adaklies put her hands on her hips, admiring the sight. Jonas walked up to one, placing his hand on it. The base of the horns were several times wider than him, making him look much smaller from a distance.

“It is smooth,” he said.

“Interesting,” said Adaklies. She’d figured time had worn them down to some extent, but apparently not.

“I’m not familiar with the process the Mother used to create them,” said Greyemeid, touching one herself. “But the craftsmanship has endured. Where is the Mother, Adaklies?”

“Not sure where to go from this point,” said Adaklies. “She just said if I wanted to find her to come here.”

“Very well,” said Greyemeid. “We shall wait.”

“Mmmhmm,” said Adaklies. Part of her wanted to make a snide comment, but she’d been enjoying the lack of attention.

Jonas busied himself with exploring the area and Greyemeid followed. Adaklies took wing, settling down on one of the horns at the curve. Miles of forest stretched out in a verdant blanket, clear as day from her perch.

It was nice to lean back and let her legs dangle and sway in the wind like branches. She could see why the Mother might choose to live here. It was peaceful, quiet, and away from the rest of the world. Adaklies wouldn’t be able to stand it more than a few days, but she could appreciate the need to get away. Looking over the mountain range to the north, she drifted off for a moment in thought. Home was right on the other side.

Blinking, her attention diverted and she looked down at Jonas and Greyemeid. Greyemeid was certainly more relaxed around Jonas compared to when they’d first set off. Jonas, too.

Adaklies couldn’t help but wonder what they were saying.



**



It was difficult, Jonas decided. Far too difficult. Hardly fair, either. But he’d been putting it off for the entire trip and with the Mother hopefully about to join their party, his chances to do it would only become sparser.

“Dear,” said Greyemeid.

Jonas looked at her.

“Please say whatever it is you’re thinking about saying before you choke on it.”

“Ah.” She did always seem to be able to read his mind. Or was he just that easy to read? “I’m sorry.”

Greymeid leaned in, putting her claws behind her back. “Yes?”

“I’m sorry for asking from you what I did in the way I did. In retrospect, it was hasty. And harsh.”

Tilting her head, she focused her gaze in on Jonas. He wanted to look away from her, but kept himself steady. It felt like it was taking forever for her to respond.

“Yes, it was,” she said.

“I was focused on Livoetian, on the task, and convinced myself this was the best solution. I did not realize what I was asking of you.”

Pacing around to his other side, Greyemeid scratched her chin. “No, you didn’t. This is very strange, coming from you.”

“Is it really so weird for me to apologize?”

“Not that.” She sighed. “Jonas, while you have many wonderful qualities, self-cognizance is not one of them. I’d come to accept it. Yet here you are apologizing for something I would not expect you to give a second thought to.”

“If I’m being honest, I did not. Originally.”

“Hmm?”

“Adaklies had to point it out.”

“Adaklies.” Greyemeid’s eyes narrowed. “Really.” Her tone was getting dangerous.

“Back in the camp while we were still prisoners, she brought me around.” He tapped his cheek. “With more than a little strength behind it.”

Greyemeid chortled. Chortled! A smile grew on Jonas’s face, but it died as soon as Greyemeid’s did.

“I’ll accept any punishment you have for me,” he said, lowering his head.

Crossing her arms, Greyemeid gave his hunched over figure an unamused frown. “Punishment is fitting for insubordinate officers, not my partner. But you will tell me where this haphazard idea of yours came from and what sort of merit you saw in it.”

“I’m not sure exactly where it came from. It was not from any one event, if that is what you are wondering. I thought it was simple, direct, and something we could accomplish quickly. And I’m sick of us not having a plan on how to figure this out.”

“You always had the choice to join me.”

Jonas’s expression soured. “I gave up fighting for Aezerin for you, but I will not accept Ir continuing to fight this war.”

“You’d be accepting me, not the war.”

“And the fact you are actively working to advance it. I’m not so bright-eyed to think the two are separable. We have had this talk before.”

“You know I don’t want this war to go on any longer than it needs to.”

“Then end it. Retreat back across the Vallivun. Send a request for a cease-fire.”

“Livoetian rejected the proposal.”

“Then tell me, Greyemeid, why are you fighting for her? Because if you do want to be with me, you want peace, and that is quarter the Demon Queen will never give.”

“Realize that my presence here has effectively doubled as my resignation. Or betrayal, as Livoetian will see it.”

“Then why—”

“Sit.”

Jonas sat.

Greyemeid clasped her claws behind her back. “Thirty-eight years ago my hometown was burned to the ground. Marauders from Aezerin’s border guard. An entirely human force with nothing but disdain for the monsters of Ir. Hundreds died.”

“I’m sorry,” said Jonas.

“Don’t be,” said Greyemeid. “The offenders earned their due that very day. Livoetian showed up too late to save the town, but not too late to punish each and every one of those who dared to attack her people. She wasn’t queen yet, but when she showed up, a savior who’d taken down a force of hundreds, it was understandable that many of us joined her. Border life was hard back then. The capital, Malivus, was so far away that Ir rarely sent support. Ir hardly had the capital to maintain its cities, never mind its borders.”

“That sounds like the kind of excuse an neglectful governor would come up with,” said Jonas.

Greyemeid smiled. “You understand. For months, she continued her border enforcement tour, fortifying towns, cleaning out Aezerin deployments, and arranging logistics. We felt useful. In retrospect, the whole campaign may have been a simple vie to accrue soldiers and support, but she was never one much for politics; her strength had always given her what she needed. I still believe she was truly there to help.”

“And when did she become queen?”

“Not long after. I was an officer and Livoetian included me among many others to participate in the raid that took the capital. Knowing how powerful she was, she may have not even needed us, but back then, she was adept at making people feel like a relevant part of something bigger.”

“What happened next?”

Greyemeid waved off his question, taking a seat and scooting up next to him. “It matters not. What’s important is that you know why I fought for her. She was a dreamer. Convictive. Genuine, though rough around the edges. Still dreadful at politics.”

“I can see the appeal,” he said. “Of fighting for her.”

Greyemeid peered at him, hopeful. There was something he was supposed to say here. But how was he to know what?

He went with the first thing that came to his head. “I understand the weight of your decision to join me.”

Greyemeid ran a claw gently through his hair. “You are quite hopeless without me.”

He shot her a sarcastic look. “Really? I think I managed just fine, given all the assassins you sent after me.”

“On that subject: Adaklies may have been right about something else. Livoetian won’t long be blind to my desertion. She will send assassins for us. She may even seek us out herself.”

“Then we will just have to kill them. And if she comes to us, our job becomes easier.”

“I am telling you to remain cautious. Do not underestimate Livoetian.”

“I know.”

Smiling, Greyemeid kissed him on the head and he decided he’d be happy with that.



**



Seeing Greyemeid kiss Jonas, Adaklies rolled her eyes and started looking for something else worthy of her attention. She quickly found it.

A figure was approaching from the north. Whoever it was, they were far too short to be the Mother. A cloak prevented Adaklies from making out many details, but there was a touch of familiarity to their step. Grunting, Adaklies got to her feet and leapt to the ground

If the Mother was here, he would be too.

He broke into the clearing and the second the sun was on his face, Adaklies grinned.

“Folsomar!” she yelled.

Pausing, he took in the sight of Adaklies. And grumbled.

“Adaklies.”

She jogged up to him, the grin still plain on her face. Crossing his arms, he grimaced at her. They held that stalemate, apprehension against enthusiasm, each trying to infect the other and break them down.

For the tiniest breath, Adaklies’s expression flickered. What if he’d heard the accusations? The bounty on Adaklies? The lies about her claiming the Mother’s bounty? But just her face started to ache from the grin, Folsomar broke down and smiled.

“Been a bit, hasn’t it?” And, without another word, hugged her.

Adaklies broke.

Pure instinct saved the hug and her arms went around him but her mind froze. Panicked. She was expecting a quip, a glare, or some kind of dry humor. Dismissal, at worse. But a hug? Who was this man?

Folsomar released her, putting his hands on his hips and nodding to Jonas and Greyemeid, who had just walked up. “Who’s the dead weight?” he asked.

Adaklies scrambled to catch up with herself. “This, uh, this is Jo… Jonas. And Greyemeid, his partner. Greyemeid, Jonas, this is Folsomar, the Mother’s husband.”

Folsomar tilted his head. “The Greyemeid?”

Greyemeid extended a claw. “Yes, it’s a pleasure.”

“Of course,” said Folsomar. He took her claw and gave it a good shake, then turned to Jonas, nodding to Adaklies. “She dragging you along?”

Jonas laughed. Cautiously, Adaklies noticed. “No, I’m actually dragging her along for this adventure.”

“Really?” Folsomar shrugged. “Guess I’ve got no room to talk.”

“It involves your wife,” said Adaklies.

“It always does. Welp, can’t speak for Istoladrek as for whether or not she’ll be open to your request, but if you’ve got Adaklies with you, at least she’ll listen.”

Adaklies saw Greyemeid flinch. She probably wasn’t used to someone using the Mother’s name so casually. Or maybe it was because she was realizing the only reason the Mother would hear her out was Adaklies.

“Follow me and I’ll take you to our place,” said Folsomar.

As they fell in behind Folsomar, Greyemeid shot Adaklies a curious glance. “So, Folsomar, it seems you and the Mother have some history with Adaklies.”

Can that dragon not let anything lie?

“Oh, yeah. She helped me out a couple years back. Well, both of us, now that I think about it.”

“How?” Jonas piped up this time.

“It was more… introspective help. And she looked over the Mother and I while we were incapacitated.”

“Incapacitated? What on earth could have possibly incapacitated the Mother and you?” Greyemeid asked.

“Ourselves.”

“You fought in Keian, then,” said Greyemeid.

“Sure did, though most of the circulating stories about exactly what happened there are nothing more than hearsay.”

“Speaking of circulating stories, you are aware your companion Adaklies has a sizable bounty on her capture?”

Folosomar laughed. Not a soft laugh, but a full-bellied one, and he clapped along with his amusement. “I did hear about that! Course, anyone who’s known Adaklies for any amount of time would know that’s complete hogwash. My wife and I had a good time trying to guess why the district adjudicator would come up with a story like that.”

Adaklies’s vision got fuzzy. Her arms started floating away too, so she clasped her hands and shoved them behind her back, else they reach out and hug Folsomar to death.

“And what did you settle on?” Greyemeid asked.

“Money. Probably heard my wife was defeated and didn’t want to pay out the bounty. I mean, a thousand gold is a hell of a lot. They probably posted it never expecting anyone to be crazy enough to try to claim it.”

Adaklies tried to ignore Greyemeid’s iron gaze on her.

Folsomar led the three of them up the slopes of a nearby mountain. The trek was a bit longer than Adaklies expected, taking them through aggressive terrain before they arrived at the mouth of a cave hewn out of the side of the mountain.

“Welcome to our home,” said Folsomar.

The entourage walked inside.

Adaklies’s first question was whether or not the Mother had hollowed out the entire mountain. The place was massive. A few, no, several dragons could fly around in the vast emptiness with ease. Smooth stone carved out the bowl-like ceiling, a ceiling so high up Adaklies missed a breath. The walls were crafted similarly, but hewn with impressions of many different things. Swords, wings, goblets, tails, claws, gold… opulence, really.

Jonas whistled.

“Likewise,” said Adaklies.

“It does have a touch of Mother’s… ardor, I‘ll say,” said Greyemeid.

“Well, when you’re finished gawking, come along,” said Folsomar.

Adaklies didn’t think she’d ever be able to regard a room like this with the sort of dismissal Folsomar had. Yes, he lived here, but even after seeing this every day for years, Adaklies had a feeling she’d still be impressed.

As the four made their way across the cavern, Adaklies realized there was more to the cave. Two tunnels curved away from the cavern. And the main cavern wasn’t just spectacular ceilings and walls. A grid of chests, displays, and lounging furniture filled up a fair portion of the floor including an extraordinarily long dining table. Adaklies appraised what she could as she walked by, but in truth there was too much to take in.

“Is this not a bit… lavish?” asked Jonas.

Of those who heard his question, Adaklies did the worst job of covering up her laugh.

“This is the Dragon Mother’s dwelling. This is precisely what one should expect. In truth, I’d be disappointed if it was anything less,” said Greyemeid.

Folsomar led them down one of the tunnels. It soon emptied out into a room that Adaklies could actually call reasonable. Somewhat. An extravagant bath to one side and luxury furniture on the other all culminated in the plush palatial bed overwhelming the room. But far more imposing than the furnishings was the dragon currently lounging upon them.

Adaklies’s impression of the Mother was both completely different and entirely the same as when she first laid eyes on her. Her broad wings and towering height pushed the rest of the world into the background. Her near-suffocating presence pressed down on Adaklies from all sides. Yet, her lackadaisical posture along the bed, lightly swishing tail, and the eyes she gave Folsomar were disarming. Almost mortal.

“I thought I heard more than one set of footsteps,” said the Mother. Her voice sang as flowy and illustrious as Adaklies remembered.

Folsomar made it to the bed and the Mother got up, giving him a kiss before standing. With their arms on each others’ backs, they walked up to the group. Folsomar’s average stature looked dwarfish next to the Mother.

Greyemeid kneeled at their approach. Adaklies went with an awkward bow.

“Adaklies,” said the Mother, smiling. “I welcome the sight of you once more.”

“Likewise,” said Adaklies.

“I see Folsomar does as well. You have given him a thorough teasing already?”

“Not yet,” said Adaklies.

“Don’t feel obligated,” said Folsomar.

“Nonsense.” The Mother rubbed Folsomar’s head. “You are at your best when at ends with a woman.”

“Oh? Is that why you never stop torturing me?”

The two shared an all-too-sappy grin. Adaklies, meanwhile, couldn’t seem to find the right way to stand.

“Greyemeid. Many a year has passed since we crossed paths,” said the Mother. Neither her voice nor her face had the smile she’d given Adaklies.

“I am honored you remember me.”

“Stand. I am not your commanding officer.”

“Thank you.”

Eyes narrowing, the Mother approached her, emphasizing the difference in their height. A claw drifted to Greyemeid’s chin and pointed her face upward at the Mother’s. “Many a year indeed.”

The Mother’s piercing gaze landed on Jonas. “And one I recognize not.”

He bowed. “Jonas. An honor to meet you.”

“Formal. But unnecessary.” The Mother offered a claw. “You are one of my Daughters not. A handshake will suffice.”

A tiny sliver of hesitance snatched his composure, but he took her hand anyways. The sweat dripping down his face told Adaklies the grip was a touch more than he was comfortable with, but his hand came away intact.

“Now,” said the Mother, sitting down on the bed beside Folsomar, “Speak, Adaklies. What is the nature of your visit?”

Adaklies thumbed Jonas. “I’m afraid he’s the mastermind here.”

The Mother cocked her head, turning to Jonas.

“I want to kill Livoetian. I need your help.”

“Yeesh. There’s gotta be a lot to unpack there,” said Folsomar.

“Continue,” said the Mother.

“There’s nothing more to it. I know I can’t do it without help.”

The Mother shook her head. “You misunderstand. Convince me. Preceding your arrival, my husband and I were enjoying a lovely time together, something I prefer over engaging one of the mightiest monsters alive for a cause I have aught of knowledge nor investment.”

“I mean to end the war. My cause is the life of my countrymen.”

The Mother gave him a look that spoke incredulity. “One may’st cut off the head, but war has been life for both those nations for some time. Naught are those who avoided its miasmatic touch. Passions run deep.”

“If the plan was to kill Livoetian and nothing more, yes. But if we killed her and replaced her with someone, someone the people would recognize and respect…”

“Indeed, Greyemeid is known of many and would be seen as a worthy successor, in spite of your means.” Her attention shifted to Greyemeid. “Speak, Daughter, what do you think of this? You have been fighting for Livoetian many a year.”

“It is complicated. Livoetian offers Ir and the monster lands a powerful leader. They have advanced the front lines considerably since the war began. Clearer laws have been enacted and enforced with minimal disruption. However, Livoetian has also allowed the bureaucracy of many internal organizations to bloat out of control due to her disinterest. Corruption is beginning to take root and the farther one travels from the capital, the worse it becomes.”

Her voice echoed throughout the room a moment before the Mother replied. “You have relayed the full of it?”

“Yes.”

“My Daughters may deceive themselves as much as they wish, but direct that deception not toward your Mother,” she said, her voice coming out cold.

“I apologize.” Greyemeid bowed deeply. “Jonas will not accept my continued participation in the war. My decision was between peace and separation. I have chosen peace.”

“Aww,” said Folsomar. He hugged the Mother tighter and gave her a warm smile which she returned.

“Whilst I recognize love as a worthy cause,” said the Mother, “this love is your own to fight for. Not mine.”

“Countless lives would be saved,” said Jonas.

“Think not that I value lives as naught, but Ir and Aezerin have chosen this path for themselves and my care is first for myself and my own. Thou’st both young and capable. Greyemeid herself is the head of an army. Surely one can find the resources and aid one needs to defeat Livoetian without my involvement?”

Greyemeid shook her head. “An army would be the worst approach to defeating Livoetian. Not only does it allow her to effectively mobilize her own armies against it, her specialty is dealing with numbers. A few capable fighters would be much more potent than many passable ones. That aside, I cannot say for sure if my army would join me in marching against Livoetian.”

“True, Livoetian’s Castle would slaughter an army. But you have come straight to me, to the Mother of Dragons. Are there no other worthy fighters?”

“You’re by far our best option,” said Jonas.

Folsomar chuckled. “Keep flattering her, she loves i—ah!” He hopped up, holding his rear. “Those claws can pinch, woman!”

Adaklies crossed her arms and looked away. One second this was a diplomatic negotiation, the next a circus.

“Thou hast a fine cause, Jonas, Greyemeid,” said the Mother. “I find it most touching to see my Daughters working to change what suits them not and I cannot deny that the prospect of helping a dragon to the highest seat of Ir has its appeal. But this conversation has led me to another question: Adaklies: why are you here?”

Clasping her claws behind her back, Adaklies shrugged. “Bored, I guess?”

The Mother strode toward her. “Truly, your answer is boredom?” She eyed Adaklies, pacing slow circles around her.

Goddess, I feel so small next to her!

“Neither Jonas nor Greyemeid mentioned a single connection to you. Nor do their motivations seem to intersect with your own. Taking a country? My instinct says that appeals to you not.”

She wasn’t entirely wrong. Adaklies felt a bead of sweat drip off her chin. She tried to meet the Mother’s gaze and failed.

“Boredom can drive people to do some pretty crazy things,” said Adaklies.

“I know. I’ve had my bouts of it. But you are not one to find inspiration within it.”

“I understand why you’d think that, Mother, but we didn’t know each other for that long.”

“Why do you maneuver about the question? Have either your compatriots helped you somehow? Perhaps you are returning a favor?”

“No, that’s not it. I guess...” Adaklies wracked her brain. “I’m here to prove I’m not the criminal everyone thinks I am. Or, at least, give them something else to remember me by.”

“Hmm. Understandable.” Giving Adaklies a knowing grin, the Mother turned on a heel and returned to Folsomar. She nodded to him. “I am willing.”

Adaklies and Jonas exchanged glances.

“Great!” said Jonas. “We should—”

The Mother raised a claw. “However, the say is not mine alone.”

Jonas, Greyemeid, and Adaklies all turned to Folsomar.

“Of course you put it on me,” he said, grumbling. Adaklies could see his blush, however. “You’re really with these two?” he asked Adaklies.

“I guess so,” she said.

“You ‘guess’...” Folsomar tucked his lips in. “You’re not making this any easier, you know.”

“When have I ever made your life easier?”

The Mother chuckled.

Folsomar looked between Jonas and Greyemeid, thinking. The gears in his head churned in a stilted silence, dragging each second along as a cripple would his feet. His eyes flicked over to Adaklies again and, for just that moment, saw through her.

“Alright.”

Jonas leaned forward, waiting for the other foot to drop. It didn’t. And that drove Adaklies even further into madness. There was something missing here, and she hadn’t a clue what it was.

“Thank you. I have planned for us to head due east to keep us south of most of the battlefields. Once we cross the border into Ir proper, we can head north to the capital.” He looked at Greyemeid. “That should avoid all the army movements, correct?”

“As far as my knowledge reaches,” said Greyemeid. “Livoetian may already be aware and adjusting, however.”

“It is the best we have to go on. Tonight we can—”

“Tonight,” said the Mother, “We eat and we rest. Ir’s capital beckons from weeks away. Best start on the right foot.”

“Fair enough,” said Jonas.

Folsomar and the Mother left the room, chatting with one another about what meal to prepare. Once out of earshot, Jonas walked up to Greyemeid and put his hand on her shoulder. “One step closer.”

“Indeed.” Her body loosened when Jonas touched her and she pulled him close. “You’ve much more a past with those two than you divulged,” she said to Adaklies.

Adaklies narrowed her eyes at Greyemeid. Another implied question. Eventually she was just going to start ignoring them. “I guess they just held more gratitude than I thought. I didn’t lie about anything, though.” She jabbed a finger at Greyemeid. “And would it kill you to get off my ass every now and then?”

Jonas tugged at Greyemeid, who met eyes with him.

“Very well.”

Jonas smiled. “Thanks. Now, I think we should go check out what we’re going to eat tonight. I’m hungry.”

The meal was quickly ready. Greyemeid and Jonas chatted while Adaklies watched her hosts go back and forth, cooking and bantering. It was simultaneously endearing and sickening at the same time. She didn’t know why she forced herself to watch it.

Dinner was served on the ostentatiously-long table. The five of them hardly used up any of it, but from the wear Adaklies figured it was the most use the table had ever seen.

Folsomar started the dinner conversation between the crunch of chewing and gulps of satisfaction. “What have you been up to these last few years?” he asked Adaklies.

Adaklies immediately stuffed her mouth, giving herself a moment to digest the question. Swallowing, she said, “Getting by.”

“I’m surprised I’d have to pry to get an answer out of you. What does ‘getting by’ involve?”

“Errands,” said Adaklies. She wasn’t thrilled about going into detail, but even she knew there was a limit to how rude you could be to a host. “Killing wolves preying on livestock, hunting down petty criminals, gruntwork, the like.”

“Really? Sounds like you stayed local. Keian?”

“Yeah.”

“Why no bounties?”

Adaklies took a deep breath. “Because along with that bounty on my head, they blacklisted me as a bounty hunter. No one would honor any bounty I tried to turn in and believe me, I tried. More than once.”

“What happened when you tried? They just refused to pay you?”

Adaklies grumbled and poked at her food, nodding.

“That’s terrible,” said Jonas.

“I should’ve realized sooner. Least I learned that lesson quick.”

“There is a minimum respect people should show others. Especially people that you just helped,” said Jonas.

Adaklies almost smiled. She would’ve agreed with him before, too, but she was just another bounty hunter, another nameless face to those people. Why would they treat her with any preference?

“You didn’t deserve to be treated like that,” said Folsomar.

Teeth grinding, Adaklies stared at her food. Unfortunately for him, it wasn’t him who got to decide that. The world had made up its mind about Adaklies a long time ago.

Three clicks on the dinner table from a dragon claw everyone’s attention. “We have a mighty task before us,” said the Mother. “Livoetian is a Pillar.”

Adaklies looked around to see recognition from everyone, making her the only one confused about the Mother’s meaning. “What is a Pillar?” she asked.

“They are the four mightiest nonhumans of the world. Benethia, the angel; Corriva, the kitsune; Livoetian, the lilim; and I. Benethia is ‘The Watchful Guardian’ and heads the official church of Aezerin, making her the de-facto ruler of the country. Corriva deigns to secrecy. That is a mere half of the story of the Pillars, however. We are typically averse to divulging more.”

“Given you brought it up, I’m assuming you’re willing to now,” said Jonas.

The Mother nodded. “The power of a Pillar comes straight from the sister god Qia. After defeating her brother Qos in the War of Conception, Qia took him to the center of the planet, swallowing him thus. Even today, Qos is held captive at the center of the planet within Qia, though she must use the greatness of her power to restrain him. With what she yet holds, she governs the living.

“But that be not the end of it. Qia let her power—tiny scraps to her, but bountiful wells to us—come forth in four particular beings. I was one. Benethia, another. The two remaining monsters… I shall let memory alone hold their names. Livoetian and Corriva were not the first to hold their power, but Qia’s might must always manifest in four monsters and four monsters exact.”


“How long ago were the first Pillars created?” said Jonas.

“Long enough,” said the Mother.

Adaklies stared ahead, her face blank. She’d never given too much thought to gods. Did this story change anything? Should she start following Qia’s faith? Did Qia herself care? Resting her head in her hands, she sighed. This kinda stuff wasn’t her territory.

“Why did you decide to share this with us?” Greyemeid asked the Mother. “I can see its relevance, but at the same time, it doesn’t really change our objective.”

“Because you mustn't underestimate Livoetian. One might think her naught more than another powerful monster. You especially, cognizant her personally, might somehow be deluded by the thought she shares some sort of normality with you. I assure you: she shares naught. You are snowflakes; she an avalanche. When time comes and we must fight her, there will be a moment where you will be forced to come to terms with this. If you are able to accept it and fight in its spite, you will live. If not, you will hesitate.

“And Livoetian is not someone one can hesitate against.”

Adaklies found it comical that the Mother’s gruesome warning bugged her less than the realization Qia and Qos were real. It was true that Livoetian was a terrifying opponent, the strongest she’d ever faced, and death was almost certain if she failed, but that was that. An ordinary dragon wouldn’t be swinging the scales of that fight.

Thankfully, the conversation steered away from Qia, Qos, and Livoetian. As their plates emptied and the candles burned down, the five of them spoke of livelier things. Or stories, myths, and jokes. Jonas had plenty of tales from his time as a mercenary. Greyemeid had wild stories as a colored soldier over the years and Folsomar and the Mother bounced back and forth off each other like they were both one half of a single talker. Adaklies listened. And that was all she did. Nothing she’d done was worth sharing.

Those grander fates weren't for her.



**



Adaklies was the first to wake the next morning. Finding the cave silent and not wanting to disturb anyone else, she wandered outside, found a seat and watched dawn swallow the sky orange. A shallow wind pushed up from the base of the mountain, washing over her and whistling across the cave entrance, using it like a flute.

It was mornings like this that she thought too much.

Last night’s conversation pinged around her head. Livoetian seemed more like a mountain to conquer now more than ever. Adaklies hadn’t made any progress toward summoning her drekhel, assuming she even would at some point.

“Alone out here?”

Folsomar emerged from the cave, taking a seat next to Adaklies.

“I was.”

“You know,” said Folsomar, watching the horizon, “Istoladrek told me she doesn’t have much appreciation for sunrises and sunsets any more. Seen ‘em all in a thousand ways in a thousand places. But when I get her in a high-up spot with a nice clear view at just the right time, something tells me that’s a lie.”

“Would she want you telling someone else that?”

“If I did it in front of her, she might roll her eyes. Blush if the mood was right. But no, she wouldn’t mind. Especially you.”

Adaklies had a hard time imagining the Mother blushing. “You two are being way too appreciative of what I did. I gave you and Mother a place to sleep for a couple nights—that’s all. I didn’t even feed you.”

“Is that what you think? Anyways, how much appreciation we show is up to us, isn’t it? And I think we’re showing just enough.”

“I have a question for you. It might seem a little abrupt.”

“Oh yeah? Go for it.”

“What the hell happened with you?”

Folsomar blinked. “What?”

“You were a total grump last time I met you. Getting you to do anything was like pulling teeth! Yet here you are, making jokes, smiling at everything, playing around with the Mother, and letting her play around with you? I don’t get it.”

“I was at the end of a very long time without my wife, and you were threatening to complicate things. So I guess I was a little grumpy. But I’ve had her all to myself for these past couple years now and I’ve really enjoyed it.”

“Yeah, I can tell.”

Folsomar smirked. “Jealous?”

“Go to Hell.”

“Alright, my turn. What the hell happened with you?”

Adaklies mulled over the question. “Life showed me a few harsh truths.”

“I heard. But don’t you think that’s a bit weak an excuse?”

Adaklies gaped at him. An excuse? Had he not heard her at all last night? “What exactly are you talking about?”

“Adaklies, last time we met, you were planning on taking on my wife. And enthusiastic about it. That’s not the kind of person—the kind of dragon—I would expect to be hampered by a few money-hungry vermin and hellscum clients.”

“A few? Folsomar, it was almost everyone I met! Everyone who knew my face couldn’t run to the guard fast enough! It took a good ten bloody scraps and twice as many broken bones before they stopped bugging me, and they still get ideas every now and then!”

Folsomar just crossed his arms and smiled.

Face going red, Adaklies charged on. “And don’t get me started on all the rejected bounties. I lost out on a good fifty gold before I learned not to complete the bounty before working something out with the client first.”

Folsomar laughed.

Adaklies was soaring past fuming at this point. “What the hell are you laughing about!? Because I’m sure as demons not trying to make a joke!”

Scratching his temple, Folsomar considered his reply a moment. “I’m not really sure what I could say to show you what I mean other than you’re still exactly the dragon I remember while being nothing like her at the same time.”

“Real helpful.”

“When did you start caring about how other people saw you? What they thought about you?”

“Since always? Folsomar, I have to care, I interact with people. They pay me.”

“You didn’t use to. Or, at least, if you did care, you didn’t let it change how you acted. Let me ask—how did your first interaction with Jonas go? He seems like an upstanding guy.”

“An uptight guy, maybe. I wanted to punch him.”

“But you didn’t.”

“Of course I didn’t! The guards already have enough reason to come after me again, I didn’t need to give them more! Plus, who punches someone they just met?”

“And when did he change your mind?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, here you both are, with him thoroughly un-punched, as far as I can tell.”

“He didn’t earn the punch until later.”

“Heh, I’d like to hear about that one. But later. Don’t deflect.”

Adaklies shrugged. “I dunno. He had a good argument.”

Folsomar raised a finger. “There. There it is. Think about that. And tell me when you have the answer.”

A new voice entered the conversation. “The answer to what?”

The two turned around to see Jonas stretching and walking out of the cave. “Heard you two chatting. Up pretty early.” He put his hands on his hips and looked out toward the dawn. “Nice morning.”

Folsomar laid a hand on Adaklies’s shoulder and let it linger for a moment before getting up. “It is, but I think it’s about time we got everyone up and moving. We’ll want to get going bright and early.”

Jonas nodded. “I’ll get Greyemeid, then.”

Adaklies’s eyes followed Folsomar until he disappeared back into the cave. How Jonas convinced her? Didn’t seem like that mattered too much. In truth, it was probably just a combination of the things he said alongside her own boredom that made her leave.

It wasn’t too long before the men reappeared, the Mother and Greyemeid along with them. The Mother greeted Adaklies with a smile. Greyemeid offered a curt nod.

“From here, we head east,” said Jonas. “On foot, it’ll be a couple weeks to get into Ir proper, and from there we head north to the capital, Malivus. That’s where we’ll find Livoetian.”

“Are you certain she remains there?” asked the Mother.

“She should be there another month still. Assuming nothing comes up.”

The Mother nodded. And with that, they were off.



***



While not leisurely, the trip wasn’t too taxing, either. And, much to her own annoyance, Adaklies couldn’t stop herself from thinking.

Had she really changed so much? Not as much as Folsomar, surely. He was an entirely different person in many ways. Adaklies grumbled to herself, remembering what he said: ‘You’re still exactly the dragon I remember while being nothing like her at the same time.’ Meaningless. She’d adapted to her circumstances, that’s all.

The journey went without event until they reached the Vallivun, the great river that had marked the divide between Aezerin and Ir. While borders and battlegrounds shifted wildly, the Vallivun had always been a marker of significance. At the moment, Ir had pushed Aezerin back well past it, but it was anyone’s guess as to whether things would stay that way.

“So,” said Jonas, looking up and downstream, “the nearest crossing is a ways north, at—”

“Don’t be silly, young one,” said the Mother. “We’ll be flying across.”

“I, uh…” He trailed off, gauging the width of the river.

It was no small crossing. At least several hundred feet if not a thousand or more. For a dragon with strong enough wings and enough momentum, however, it wasn’t beyond reason to think they could cross it holding a person clad in armor.

Greyemeid seemed to be considering this as well, staring out over the river. “Take it off,” she said to Jonas.

“What?” said Jonas.

“Your pack. Take it off. I can get you across, but only you. I’ll come back for it.”

“A-alright.”

Jonas did not look comfortable with this, but kept up as much a front as he could. With a clatter, his heavy pack hit the ground. He presented himself to Greyemeid. “Alright, so what do I—ah!”

Greyemeid scooped him up, holding him like she wanted to carry him over the threshold. Her expression wasn’t too far off, either.

“Put your arms around my neck and hold tight.”

Jonas did so.

Greyemeid’s wings extended to their full breadth, hanging there a second in anticipation before flapping hard enough to blast Adaklies with a gust. Adaklies’s wings tensed with empathy.

She watched the two cross, urging them on all the way up until they touched ground on the other side. She shook her fist in celebration, though just a little. For Jonas, of course.

Adaklies glanced at Jonas’s pack. She could take it over herself, but Greyemeid had already said she’d carry it over. In front of Adaklies and Jonas, too. However, Greyemeid had been acting stuck up and, frankly, rude to her most of the time they’d known each other. Maybe seeing Adaklies could’ve helped her but didn’t would help readjust that attitude. No, Adaklies thought, shaking her head. It would just make things worse.

Squeezing her claws into fists, Adaklies growled. Was this what Folsomar was talking about? Adaklies letting what people thought about her affect her?

“Gaah!” Adaklies kicked the dirt. Now she was overthinking overthinking it! Stomping over to the pack, she snatched it up, threw it on her back, and made the flight across the river.

Landing a few feet away from Jonas, she took off the pack and offered it to him. “Here.”

“Oh!” He brightened up. “Thank you.”

“I said I’d be able to get it just fine,” said Greyemeid.

“I’m so terribly sorry for helping,” said Adaklies, then walked off.

She caught the Mother carrying Folsomar across, though she was clearly having none of the trouble Greyemeid did. Her wings, while still beating to a strained pace, weren’t the violent flourish of activity Greyemeid’s were. Also, the two were kissing mid-air.

Adaklies gagged and turned away.

They set up camp not too far from the river, ending the day a little early. Adaklies took the opportunity to rest her legs, sitting with her back up against a tree, enjoying the shade and the breeze.

Everyone else was busy with something else, giving her privacy for the moment. Like many times before, she rested her claw in her lap. This was not the first time she’d tried summoning her drekhel on this trip, but each time had been a failure. She wasn’t even sure if she was getting any closer.

Closing her eyes, she slowed her breathing. She concentrated on the heat, the raw burning from that day with the Mother.A heat that could spawn flames from nothing. Her entire arm tensed. Her lungs burned. The forest faded away and her world became nothing but the air in her lungs and the heat of her fire. She became fire.

And she breathed.

Smoke caught in her throat, forcing her to hack and bend over. A vile taste of ashes soured her tongue once more as she coughed. As soon as she got her breath back, she bit her lip, glaring at her empty hand. What was she missing?

“Holding up?”

Adaklies turned. Jonas was standing over her, hands at his hips, his face even but hopeful.

“Yeah. I’m used to long trips, though they’re usually by wing,” said Adaklies.

He took a seat against the tree and pulled out a waterskin. “Thirsty?”

Adaklies raised her own. “I’m good.”

Jonas took a swig before putting his waterskin away. “We’re making pretty good pace. We should be in Malivus in another ten days or so. I will say, I was a bit worried we’d run into trouble from Ir spies or assassins.”

“Actually, I think we already did.”

“What?”

“How many people from Ir know about you? You’ve been dating Greyemeid for a little while now, right?”

“We’ve been pretty clandestine.”

“So you don’t know.”

He conceded the point with a shrug.

“I think that lamia’s group in Keian were there to kill you.”

“Why would you think that?”

“They attacked way too readily. You weren’t exactly helping things, brandishing your sword and answering their questions in the most combative way, but if they were bounty hunters looking for me, they would’ve brought a flier with them. It’d be downright stupid to go after a dragon without someone that could find and pursue them effectively. Plus, they had a lot of humans with them. Getting ambushed in a bar or back alley by a bunch of bloodthirsty humans would be harder for Greyemeid to track back to Livoetian than monsters doing the same.”

Jonas crossed his arms, tapping his armor. “It makes sense. I had been wondering if, or when, really, I would start seeing tails or assassins. Why didn’t you mention this earlier?”

“I wasn’t very sure of it. Things didn’t really come together until you mentioned how much thought you gave to getting to Livoetian as quickly as we could after joining up with Greyemeid. It made me think you suspected someone was on to you. The ‘bounty hunters’ in Keian fit that role well.”

“Then why would they—” He cut himself off, dipping into thought. “If they knew I was looking for you, which they probably did, then I bet they thought pursuing your bounty would be a great cover story for my ‘accidental’ death. We fell right into their trap.”

“You did, I was just trying to have a drink. Good thing they underestimated you.”

He shook his head. “The people they hired were just poor fighters.”

“Stop being modest. You were fighting four on one. They would have had to be spectacularly bad to make that an even fight against an average fighter, and I could tell they knew what they were doing. I suppose you’re lucky you had me to back you up.”

He absentmindedly nodded.

“I want to know how you do it.”

“Do what?”

“You fought in a bloody war seeing Hell knows what, then decided the best course of action was personally pursuing the most feared of Ir’s generals. And you not only took on Greyemeid, you ended up making her fall for you. Then some time later you decided it wasn’t enough and figure the next most logical course of action is to take on Livoetian, picking up Greyemeid and the Dragon Mother herself for your campaign. You’re pitting two Pillars together for the first time in probably centuries and I bet you intend on jumping right into the middle of that fight, too.”

“Yes?” he replied, confused.

“Aren’t you worried?”

“About what?”

Adaklies set her jaw. About what? “You’re walking headfirst into a fight between powers far beyond us. Livoetian could end us with a harsh glare. And even if she didn’t kill you, you could lose everything. Aezerin. Greyemeid.”

“I know I could. Do not think it has not crossed my mind.”

“Doesn’t it bother you?”

“When I think about it, yes, it does. I try not to.”

“Oh, well, what a wonderful solution, just don’t think about it! Why didn’t I think of that earlier?”

“Solution? What was I supposed to be solving?”

“Do you ever think this whole thing may have been a bad idea?”

“No.”

Adaklies narrowed her eyes at him. “Even knowing the consequences?”

“The alternative is leaving Greyemeid. I cannot accept that.”

“So you’re killing Livoetian.”

Again he shot her a confused look. “Yes. Was I not clear the first time?”

Shaking her head, Adaklies left. Jonas wasn’t going to be any help.

Night brought cold. Eventually even the light of dusk faded and the moon wasn’t bright enough to pierce the forest canopy. She wondered if she used to be more willing to talk with others, but as soon as the thought ended, she grew angry. Why was she comparing her present self with her past self?

She would’ve been perfectly content keeping to herself for a while, but the Mother waved her over. Everyone was gathered around the fire, and as Adaklies sat down, the Mother spoke up.

“Tomorrow morning I shall depart for a time. I must fetch an enchanted weapon for my dear husband who conveniently departed without one.”

Adaklies glanced at Folsomar, noting the sword on his hip.

Folsomar’s grin was wider than his face. “Is there any chance—”

“Dear,” said the Mother, cutting him off.

The two stared at each other, the Mother entirely humorless and Folsomar almost bursting with energy. Several lone, dry moments passed before Folsomar collapsed back into his chair, grin dampened but still there. “You’re no fun,” he said.

“What in Hell are you talking about?” said Adaklies.

“Oh, I was just about to ask Istoladrek if I could use the sword I’ve got now. It’s my favorite.” He patted it. “Nothing but trusty steel. Seen me through quite a few battles and never let me down.”

“You have a hundred other much more useful weapons you could use,” grumbled the Mother.

“Yes, but you knew I wasn’t interested in those without me even saying so, didn’t you?”

The Mother clicked her fingers against her scales before sitting back up straight. “I raise this particular discussion owing to its relevance.” She looked at Adaklies and Jonas in turn.

Adaklies spoke up. “I’m betting Livoetian’s just like you in that she won’t care much about steel.”

“Precisely. Beheading, impaling, immolation, whilst all useful and to some extent effective against Livoetian, will gain us naught. Qia’s power is intensely attached to Livoetian as a Pillar and will regenerate her body after some time if not separated from Livoetian in a particular manner.”

“How do we separate Livoetian from Qia’s power, then?” said Jonas.

“That knowledge remains with me and me alone. It is possible. What I will divulge is that the deed will take minutes. As such, it is nothing that can be achieved amidst a fight with an unwilling participant.”

“Can’t we just strike a fatal blow first, then do the separation while she’s helpless?” asked Jonas.

“Were it so simple. The well of power I must needs access to for the manner of separation disappears if the host is killed. It retreats to Qia’s bosom until the body can heal or is reconstructed.”

“So we need to capture her? Alive?” asked Adaklies.

“Not truly capture her. Incapacitate,” said the Mother.

“And what would be the best way to incapacitate her?” asked Jonas.

“Thus we come to the origin of this discussion: weapons. Enchanted or magical weapons would prevent her access to her magic. My drekhel, for instance, is the manifestation of my magic. If I were to thrust it into Livoetian and leave it there, the chaos of variant magical pulses flowing through her body would leave her helpless. Folsomar and you both would have access to the same effect with an enchantment.” She raised a finger. “But no matter the weapon: magical, enchanted, or plain steel, you must remember to leave it in her body after you strike.”

“So I could use steel if I wished?” said Jonas.

“What decree of faith do you accord your precision? Such a thing is possible if you can pierce the heart and only the heart. Only then would the entirety of her magic be compelled towards sustaining her life. Other wounds would not have the necessary effect with plain steel. Dare you the risk?”

Adaklies scratched the back of her neck. Just fighting and defeating Livoetian would be a marvel on its own. Fighting and incapacitating her while taking care not to kill her? Borderline madness.

“What do you know about her Castle, Mother?” said Adaklies.

“It is a boundary of magic that attacks anyone within, holding a will independent Livoetian,” said the Mother. “Though in this area, you may be better served asking another.”

Her face severe, Greyemeid leaned forward. “It’s as you say. The Castle is hard-limited to a precise distance. I haven’t measured it to the finger, but it’s somewhere around three hundred feet. Step inside and you get attacked. Stay outside and you might as well not exist to it.

“As for methods of attack, it’s straightforward. It spawns projectiles that vary from the shape and size of a stone to a ballista bolt and everything in-between. A direct hit is lethal to most anyone, excepting protection like dragon scales. Common steel is borderline useless for blocking, though if you’re lucky you might deflect a single blast before your weapon shatters.” She looked at Adaklies, then Folsomar. “The Castle terminates several broad strides from Livoetian herself, likely to prevent it from accidentally hitting her. That’s its only vulnerability.”

“I can see why she’s been so hard to kill,” said Folsomar. “Is there a certain amount of time she can hold it?”

“If there is a limit, it’s far longer than we can hope to outlast. I’ve seen her maintain it for days before.”

“There has to be some kind of trick to it,” said Jonas. “A barrier that large and that powerful being maintained for days? It breaks the limits of reality.”

“She was a venerable font of magic energy before she became a Pillar,” said the Mother. “Does your belief truly stretch so little as to think this is not possible in the wake of a Pillar’s power?”

Sighing, Jonas turned to Greyemeid. “Seems we’ve quite the fight ahead of us.”

“You intend on challenging her Castle? With bare steel, human speed, no wings for maneuverability nor scales for protection? This is not your fight,” said Greyemeid.

“I will not watch others risk themselves for a cause I started.”

“Consider the practicality, dear,” said Greyemeid. “We’ll already have four people on the offensive. Having someone back to make a distraction or help with anything else that might come up would be invaluable.”

“I would be useless outside the Castle. Do not try to dress it up to make me feel better. I will be in this fight.”

“If you know how—”

“Greyemeid,” he said, looking around at everyone else. “I am… let us talk about it later. Somewhere else. I am tired right now.”

Greyemeid frowned, but conceded. “Very well. It is getting late.”

As the two walked back to their tent, Adaklies looked down to her empty claw. Jonas and her were in the same boat. Shoulder to shoulder with legends, how was a simple dragon like her without a drekhel supposed to help?



**



The Mother was gone before Adaklies awoke the next morning. She was surprised to find she was the last one to wake with the sun already cresting the horizon and the smell of breakfast thick in the air. Being the first to rise was a small thing, but upon finding the privilege gone, she was a little more annoyed to lose it than she thought she’d be.

The tone was different now with the Mother gone. While Jonas may have been the one to bring the group together, the Mother had been the one with all the knowledge and power. She was the force that made this group and their hopes real. So when Greyemeid teased Jonas by tickling him with the claw she placed on his hip, when Jonas tried to ignore it and talk seriously about logistics, when Folsomar cracked jokes and made observations, and when Adaklies smiled along, she knew why the cadence of their voices seemed to clash. Why their rhythms rang stilted and hollow.

They were all too eager to set out again. They left the chatter of the river and drove headfirst into the thickness of the forest.

“Does it ever get exhausting being married to the Mother?” Jonas asked Folsomar.

Folsomar grinned. “Careful not to ask that too loud, she might hear you.”

“I thought she already left.”

“Can never be too cautious with her.”

“I’m actually a bit curious about your relationship myself,” said Greyemeid. “You two seem to fit so well together. How do you do it?”

“And what sort of adventures do you go on? You’re quite the duo, I bet you could do anything,” said Adaklies.

Chuckling, Folsomar put up his hand. “Woah, that’s a lot to hit a guy with at once.”

“Your wife has hit you harder,” said Adaklies.

“You’ve got me there. But as for how we do it, I suppose it’s because we’re always honest with our intentions.”

“What do you mean by that?” said Greyemeid.

“We both had to learn how to be actively open with each other, though for entirely different reasons. For her, it was because it’d been so long since her last relationship that she had trouble getting back into the habit. Not to mention there was a gulf of new life experiences since then, so naturally her opinions about how to do things had changed. For me, while it’d been a time since I’d had a lover, it was more adjusting myself to find where I could compromise with her lifestyle, where I had to admit defeat, and where I could not relent.

“But once we understood how the other viewed certain things, what our logic was, and, as I said, how we angled our intent, finding common ground and respect was much easier.”

“Why do you say intent was the most important?” asked Greyemeid.

“Intent’s at the core of action. The tricky part of action, the part that causes hurt, is misunderstanding where the desire to take that action came from. At least, that’s what we figured out.” Folsomar shrugged. “It’s worked for us.”

“And what was the first time you decided you could not relent to her?”

Folsomar scratched the back of his neck. “I still get nervous thinking about it. I mean, you all know the difference in our strengths.”

“And heights,” added Adaklies.

“And heights. Back then I was thinking I was crazy, challenging her. But I knew I’d be even crazier to give her up, so I followed through.

“A congregation of sorts had camped out under the Dragon’s Horns. It wasn’t exactly a small gathering either, several hundred people. It was a religious gathering. Or, perhaps, a gathering under the guise of religion. They were proclaiming they were worshippers of Benethia and had her symbols scattered about, but their revelry was much less… appropriate than I believe Benethia would approve of. Of particular note to Izzy was how they climbed on the Horns themselves like children up trees.”

“Wait,” interjected Adaklies. “Did you just call the Mother ‘Izzy’?”

Folsomar stared blankly at her. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Anyways—”

“No, you definitely just called her Izzy.”

Folsomar coughed. “Anyways, she wanted to storm the gathering, raze their tents and their symbols to the ground, and immolate anyone she caught climbing on her Horns.”

There was a short pause before Adaklies hopped in, saying, “It sounds like she was a lot colder before she met you.”

“She was. I asked her to, well, not do that. Don’t get me wrong, I was pretty angry with them, too, but I figured I could talk them out of it. I asked her to let me try and she did. I wasn’t successful.”

“So she followed through with her plan, then?” said Greyemeid.

“She wanted to. I asked her not to.”

“Brave,” said Greyemeid.

“That’s what I was hoping it was: bravery, not madness. And that’s when we had our first fight. And all of you are, of course, very familiar with how dragons settle fights.”

Everyone, even Jonas, nodded.

“Given that you ended up married, I assume you won that fight,” said Greyemeid.

“Yup, sure did.”

Adaklies thought back to Keian. Folsomar had told her about that fight while they were on their way to meet the Mother. “You said it took you two years to come up with a way to win,” said Adaklies. “Did she really wait two years for you to resolve that? I mean, the congregation would surely leave by then. How would she know who to hunt down?”

“Do not underestimate a slighted dragon that has nothing but time,” said Folsomar.

“Two years?” asked Jonas. “What exactly did you do?”

“That is something for Adaklies and I to know. But I’ve given you one of my stories, I think it’s only fair you give me one in exchange.”

“A war story, then? I have seen a fair number of battles,” said Jonas.

Greyemeid wrapped a wing around Jonas, pulling him close. “I believe he wants one of our stories.”

“Is that truly a good idea?”

“I think it’s a wonderful idea.”

The smile she gave Jonas made him shrink.

“How about Brenville?” she said.

“How about not Brenville?” said Jonas.

Greyemeid sighed, shaking her head. “Archmed, then.”

“I don’t think—”

“Believe it or not,” said Greyemeid, talking over Jonas, “Jonas loves mountain climbing.”

“It is good for keeping fit and lets you learn your limits. Very strenuous.”

“That’s not the only strenuous thing you enjoy doing.” said Greyemeid. “But as I was saying, Jonas loves climbing. So, on one of our earlier dates, he proposed we climb one of the mountains to the north. I agreed. We arranged a meeting as we had a few times before and made our way out.

“Jonas picked a less intimidating mountain, knowing I was a beginner, though it had a beautiful view nonetheless. He was a fantastic guide, telling me how to find the right places to grip, how to use my limbs, how to tell when I was getting too tired, putting together a resting schedule, everything. And our climb went quite well, wouldn’t you say?”

Jonas crossed his arms. “I suppose I would,” he mumbled.

“We camped in a cave on the side of the mountain near the top, then made it to the summit early the next day, giving us most of that day to make our way down. And about halfway down, do you know what Jonas asked me?”

Folsomar was smiling now, too. “What?”

“‘You are picking this up really well for your first time, Greyemeid.’”

Adaklies and Folsomar broke into laughter, although Folsomar was much better at keeping it to a more polite tone than Adaklies.

“What did you expect?” said Adaklies.

“It was my first time dating a dragon. The first time Greyemeid let me pick the activity, too. I was nervous and did not think things through. That aside, climbing still requires a lot of stamina and it is difficult to make much use of wings while on the slope itself.”

Adaklies laughed again.

“Come now, enough. I merely wanted to tease him, not insult him.” said Greyemeid. “We still had a good time, didn’t we?”

“Yes,” said Jonas, brightening. “We did. A lot, actually.”

“What do you think you took away from it?” said Folsomar.

“That things like how well you can find a grip or whether or not you have limbs that trivialize the exercise matter less than the company,” said Jonas.

“Indeed, though you do seem to forget that at times,” said Greyemeid, and kissed him on the forehead. “Come.”

The two picked up speed, leaving Adaklies and Folsomar alone. Adaklies dropped into a leisurely pace and concentrated on the path. Or at least tried to.

“You ever feel out of place?” she asked Folsomar.

“Yeah. Even now, I’m having some of those feelings. I see them in you, too.”

“I hardly think we’re having the same thoughts. You’ve taken on the Mother twice and won both times, so you’ve got experience against someone like Livoetian. You’re valuable. Not to mention you’re married to the Mother.”

“Is it really so hard to believe I think I don’t deserve being married to Istoladrek sometimes?”

Adaklies put her hands on her hips. “No, I guess it’s not. But you have to admit my position is a lot different.”

“Different in ways, yes, but the thoughts come from the same place. It doesn’t matter why you or I feel out of place, just that we do. You feel like you don’t have a role? Hop on board. You can be ‘the overlooked one’ and I’ll be ‘husband of the dragon we really wanted’. We make our places in this, Adaklies. Or we learn to be happy with the ones others give us.”

“So it’s not your first time with something like this.”

“Nope.”

“How do you deal with it, then?”

Folsomar crossed his arms and looked up in thought. “The exceptionals—the prodigies and the powerful—their life is not lived like ours. They see a goal, walk straight to it, then grasp it. The possibility that it was more than a stroll away or that it was beyond their reach never enters their mind. For us, however, it’s an odyssey. A pilgrimage. And even if we reach above and beyond, we still may fail. The first thing I learned to do was accept it.”

“I think I’ve accepted that well enough.”

“Adaklies, if you stop there, you’ve trapped yourself in a valley of self-pity. There are times we can succeed and, if you’ve made it this far in life, I suspect you’ve already have. In fact, I know you have because I was there to witness it. I’ve known my moments of success too. And at some point along my journey it occured to me that the exceptionals, once they’ve seized that goal and they look back, all they see is footsteps. You know what I see?”

“No.”

“A mountain.”

A mountain, huh? Adaklies wasn’t sure if she had any of those behind her.

“Let me ask: have you figured out the answer to the question I gave you when we set out?” said Folsomar.

“I’m not even sure I figured out the question.”

“Jonas convinced you somehow. At the core of the want that brought you here is a reason and not knowing that reason is what’s making all this frustration. Be here because you made a conscious choice. People are too specific to do something for a vague thing like want.”

Adaklies wrinkled her face in a frown, gaze wandering away from Folsomar. The Mother would’ve been ashamed to call her a dragon as she was right now.

“Adaklies.”

Folsomar’s tone sent a chill up her spine. She followed Folsomar’s gaze and saw they’d caught up to Jonas and Greyemeid.

And they were not alone.

Standing a short distance before them was a lilim, tail and wings a white so stark the green of the forest recoiled from it. While shorter than Adaklies, the lilim’s stature lost no such authority. She wore a casual dress wrinkled below the waist, light enough to catch the breeze. Black stained the tip of her tail, a unique marking held by only one lilim they were familiar with. Though she held no weapon, Adaklies knew she was armed.

Greyemeid stood at attention. Jonas, while tense, still had his wits about him, one hand on his sword and ready to draw.

“This is what you betrayed me for?” said Livoetian, eyes grazing over the group.

“You should know that the thing I betrayed you for isn’t something you can see just by looking at us,” said Greyemeid. She spoke with no hate, no anger, even. Just respect.

“You aren’t the first soldier I’ve lost to love, I suppose. I thought you’d have more sense than this, however.” Livoetian’s eyes darkened when they lingered on Jonas.

Greyemeid took a step forward. “This is hardly my doing alone.”

Livoetian’s face flashed anger. “You could have spoken to me about this instead of eloping like an adolescent.”

“Is that what the assassins were for? Negotiation?” said Greyemeid.

Livoetian flinched. “They were to stop an annoyance before it became an issue. Too late, unfortunately. A common Aezerin soldier. I would be insulted if there was room for it next to my fury. If you wanted one as a concubine, you know you were always free to take one.”

“I—” started Greyemeid.

“Yes, yes, you never wanted a concubine. Come, Grey, I’m not blind. I’m merely venting at you, trying to think on what I might have done differently to avoid this situation so it does not come up again.”

“There is one obvious answer,” said Jonas.

“I imagine things are quite clear to you, living in the weeds underfoot,” Livoetian spat at him. “You are fortunate you won’t live long enough to see beyond them.”

“You’re quick to hand out death threats standing out there by yourself,” said Adaklies.

When Livoetian turned to her, it was like she was noticing Adaklies for the first time. Her stare was stone. It hit Adaklies like a punch. Why did I speak up? This is Livoetian, the Demon Lord, the Queen of Ir, the Pillar, not some bar thug I can scare off.

“And you’ve devolved to recruiting random citizens, Grey?” She frowned at Adaklies. “Istoladrek’s husband I recognize, but I must admit I don’t know you. Don’t speak again, you might singe me with your… conflagrative normality.”

Any other person, any other day, Adaklies would’ve hit her back twice as hard with a quip.

“Why is everything always so heated with you dragons, anyways?” Livoetian asked Greyemeid. “Given more raw power than almost all other monsters, you have all the opportunities in the world, yet all you seem to want to do is spew it about aimlessly.”

Before Greyemeid could get out an answer, Livoetian flicked her wrist at her.

A pink blast of magic erupted from the ground at Greyemeid’s feet, catching her in the chest and flinging her backward like a pebble in a slingshot. Had Greyemeid not covered herself with her scaled arms a second before the impact, the blast likely would’ve left her stomach with a gaping hole instead.

Jonas and Folsomar had their swords out instantly. Adaklies took a stance, waiting for another attack, but Livoetian didn’t press.

Livoetian peered at Folsomar. “Leave. I will deal with my traitorous general and her cohorts. Once done, there will be no reason for you or Istoladrek to get involved. She’s intelligent enough to know that pursuing a fight between Pillars would be rash.”

Folsomar turned to Adaklies. “What did I tell you? I’m just her husband.” To Livoetian, he said, “No, thanks.”

“You have no chance of winning this fight. Leave. I will not ask again.”

“I’m kinda with Adaklies here. You’re very quick to hand out threats.”

“Fine. I’ll leave Istoladrek four bodies instead of three.”

Before the last word even left her mouth, Folsomar was in motion. Adaklies was a step behind him.

The air grew thick.

Pink energy, the same that had thrown Greyemeid back a moment ago, coalesced before Adaklies, formed into a glowing arrow and launched at her all in the space of a second. Sucking in a breath, she twisted to the side and it zipped by. It missed by inches. Just as she came out of that dodge, however, another arrow was forming above her. She leaned back. It killed her forward momentum, but the arrow went wide as well. She planted a foot to regain her balance. The dull hum of magic alerted her to another arrow forming behind her and she scrambled to the side.

A rush of air brushed by Adaklies and she dared to look at where it came from. Livoetian had leapt to Jonas and, before he could bring his sword to bear, landed a punch on his temple so hard even Adaklies flinched. He went down hard.

Adaklies growled in frustration as arrows of magic formed and shot, forcing dodge after dodge. Some flew close enough for their pulsating power to tickle her skin. Livoetian herself was now unleashing a fuschia barrage of death upon Folsomar, making the air so thick with her magic it almost blinded Adaklies. Somehow he was avoiding it all.

Greyemeid broke the stalemate.

She came in so fast Adaklies hardly realized it was her. The Castle’s energy buzzed around her, but subtle adjustments of her wings and careful swings of her tail moved her right past it and into Livoetian. Yelling, her weapon came down.

And the sight of it paralyzed Adaklies.

Just as the arc of Greyemeid’s attack began, the air turned to fire. Her scales hissed. Her skin cried out. Piercing, familiar heat swallowed Adaklies and spit her back out stunned. An impossible two-headed battle-axe formed in Greyemeid’s claws, a form of wicked, curling dragonfire made steel.

Greyemeid had a drekhel.

Her strike came in high and fast, connecting with Livoetian’s shoulder. It should have cleaved the entire arm off. Instead, Greyemeid’s drekhel bounced off with a clang, throwing her weapon back and her arms along with it. While she was reeling, Livoetian spun and thrust out her open palm, nailing Greyemeid with a fierce blast of air so dense Adaklies could see it. Whatever grunt of pain Greyemeid had let out, it was lost in the following concussion.

Folsomar and her were essentially paralyzed in the Castle, spending all of their energy just dodging. Greyemeid, who had some semblance of surprise, had actually landed a hit with a drekhel, and it had bounced off Livoetian as if made of rubber. Even if any, or hell, all of them made it through, what were they going to do?

What were they missing?

One of the magic arrows aimed at Adaklies blasted the earth in front of her, throwing up a cloud of dirt. Some of it got in her eyes and she stumbled.

This was not a place she could afford to stumble.

The next arrow connected with her arm, melting the scales straight off and searing immeasurable pain into her body. Screaming, she clutched her arm and threw herself upward.

This was where a common dragon with no spectacular bloodline, nor wealth of power from Qia, nor mythical weapon had to stop and watch. This was her place.

She heard Folsomar curse and his sword cut through the air. He sprinted, dodging the arrows as they came at him, forging towards Livoetian. He earned each step with a blur of calculated steps and spins.

But for one single attack, he was too slow. The blast disintegrated his hands. His sword flew away from the force of it. Livoetian turned to him. As he searched for his sword on the ground, Livoetian gathered her magic and unleashed it.

It took him in the stomach and went straight through.

The shock froze him in place, letting two more arrows hit him before the barrage ended, taking out an arm and a leg. He crumpled in a smoking, foul-smelling heap.

Adaklies shrieked and dove for him.

The Castle immediately obstructed her, but she didn’t care. She buzzed by arrows right and left, ignoring the pain in her arm, desperation in her eyes. When an arrow the size of a log spawned directly in front of her, she finally had to kill her flight, hitting the ground and rolling. The Castle assault pinned her once more.

She roared with each dodge, aggravated beyond words at her own weakness. She couldn’t even get to his side!

Another roar eclipsed her own.

The Mother fell like a comet, shrugging off arrows from Livoetian’s Castle left and right, and descended upon Livoetian with claws, tail, and drekhel in a storm of motion.

Nothing got through.

However, Livoetian couldn’t get even a second to summon more magic to drive off the Mother, and with her Castle already pierced, she couldn’t rely on it without making some space.

The drekhel came down. Livoetian sidestepped. The Mother’s tail swung for her head. It glanced off. The Mother’s claws snatched Livoetian’s wings as she went to lift off and threw her into the ground, but the follow-up thrust still left Livoetian unharmed.

With the terrifying density of raw power being thrown about, Adaklies was shocked their struggle went on as long as it did. Eventually Livoetian squirmed just far enough away to ready a spell. As the Mother went in for another attack, Livoetian disappeared and with her, the Castle.

Adaklies sprinted over to Folsomar.

One arm was a smouldering stump. His gut was a bleeding hole. Burns covered almost all of his skin and Adaklies could only make out his face. He barely had the strength to breathe.

His eyes found Adaklies, however, and locked onto her. With his one good arm, he grabbed hers and said a single word.

“Fly.”

And moved no more.

“Folsomar! No, no, no!” the Mother knelt at his side, running her claws over his body, hoping to find some response, some sign of life. But he had spent the last of it with that word. There was nothing for the Mother to find.

Istoladrek squeezed his chest where his heart would be, one last doomed hope shimmered on her face. But even that died.

The twin bells of her lungs rang, and Adaklies knew the sound of fury.