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Chapter Fifty

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Terror propelled Revaramek onward as he shot into the sky. It was a cold, suffocating sort of fear that pressed against the dragon’s chest, trying to steal his breath away. Revaramek refused to bow to that dread, and instead he found strength within it. It hardened his resolve, it powered his wing beats, and it drove him into the terrifying sky. He feared what laid in store for him, but he was horrified of what would happen to Mirelle, to her town, if he failed.

The whole city was smothered with an unearthly maelstrom. Churning walls of angry golden sands blasted against him as he rose. The grit got into his nostrils, stung his flight membranes, and irritated his eyelids when he tried to blink it away. Layers of scarlet and ebony swirled all around him, clouds of blood and ink amidst all the sand. Flashes of blue-white light flickered deep within the storm. Indigo bolts streaked past him, followed not by thunder, but by anguished howls, as though the sky itself cried out in pain.

Just before Mirelle called him inside with the others, he’d been watching the storm in the distance. From far away, it looked like a sandstorm caught in the sunlight. In a only breath, Asterbury’s fury was upon them. Whatever powers the urd’thin used before were nothing like this. Each time Asterbury showed up, he seemed to unleash just a little more of his abilities. Somehow Revaramek doubted he still felt bound by his people’s creed to hold back. He imagined Asterbury just preferred to keep his enemies from knowing how strong he was. But now his strength was on full display.

Asterbury wasn’t holding back anymore.

Screaming winds caught the dragon and tossed him sideways. Revaramek snarled and beat his wings, stretching them to try and ride the currents. If he fought them too hard, they might tear his flight muscles. The wind shifted and hurled him back in the other direction, only for an updraft to shoot him higher into the sky. Revaramek feared if he didn’t ride the storm currents properly, they might shear his wings right off his body.

Shards of broken wood lofted past him. Revaramek banked with the wind, hoping the storm wouldn’t tear the whole city apart. The clouds were so dense he couldn’t even see the ground below. Unless the sky cleared, the gryphons weren’t going to be able to provide cover for the soldiers. The dragon grit his teeth. Asterbury always found a way to be one step ahead. Well, Revaramek was ready to change that. He’d taken the urd’thin by surprise before, and he planned to do it again.

“Greetings, one and all!” Asterbury’s voice was booming thunder. The storm carried it everywhere. “I am Lord Asterbury, the Unstoppable Urd’thin!”

That was new. Revaramek struggled against the winds. Immense, pointed logs tumbled through the air around him. Blue-white bolts arced across them, dissolving wood into sand. The dragon cringed, banking away. His wings stung from the abrasion of flying through the sandstorm.

“I am the Prime Shaper!” Asterbury’s voice crackled over the village again. Revaramek tried to hone in on it, tried to follow it. He had to find the urd’thin. “The Teller of Tales! The Last Chief of my tribe! And to you, I am your Storyteller!”

Revaramek shivered, his claws unsheathed. Jekk told him Asterbury didn’t know the origin of the name, but Revaramek wondered if he’d discovered it after all.

“To all people of this city, I say this only once! Lay down your arms!” Even as Asterbury’s voice cascaded in all directions, Revaramek found the center of it. He rode the winds, seeking a current to carry him in the right direction. “And to the Men in Robes, usurpers of my ancestor’s flame! Surrender your colony to me! Return your stolen lands! Yield, and hand your authority to Enora so that she may rule in peace. This is your only chance! Refuse, ye men in robes, and know calamity!”

All around the dragon, the tempest intensified with a great, howling roar. The surging winds threw him back and forth as though he were little more than a leaf caught in a gale. Revaramek beat his wings, shifted them, positioned and repositioned their every surface, struggling to keep from being flung into an unrecoverable tumble through the squall. Somewhere down below, he heard something crack and shatter. More bits of wood and canvas scattered through the air. Shredded banners and roofing thatch appeared through the clouds only to vanish again. Blinding, blue-white flashes erupted everywhere with furious rending noises, staccato bursts of sound and light.

Then just as quickly, everything calmed. The worst of the winds died away. The lightning cutting through the sky faded, and the town was covered only by a twisting mass of unnaturally hued clouds, a storm of blood, sand, and shadow. With the wind settled enough for him to fly easier, Revaramek followed the rotation of the maelstrom. It seemed centered above the hill. As he flew, he caught a few glimpses of the town. Debris littered the streets, windows were blown out and pieces of roofs were missing. Guards were helping people to get to shelter, or passing out weapons to those who could fight. He was glad to see them following Mirelle’s orders, but what choice did they have? Still, the town’s resolve in the face of the impossible was inspiring.

Revaramek swore to himself his resolve would be just as strong, when the moment came. If they could find the courage to stand up for their homes and families even against the wrath of some twisted demi-god, the dragon owed it to them to make sure that courage was repaid in kind.

Near the village’s central hill, he found the center of the spiral. There, all the clouds twisted down towards the earth where misty tendrils wound around the hill’s summit. They swirled around the slope, creeping between and across buildings like red and gold snakes. The interior of the storm was clear of clouds, an eyewall rotating around Asterbury.  

Asterbury stood upon a floating platform in the center of the storm’s eye. Built out of the debris his unearthly squall tore away from the town, it hovered high above the hill’s summit. Revaramek recognized pieces of The Cathedral’s roof mixed in amongst the rest of the materials that the immense dais was constructed of.  Even as the dragon circled it, Asterbury continued his shaping.

Wide flagstones set into the hillside tore themselves from the earth, and built a stairway to a podium at the platform’s center. Atop that, Asterbury assembled a throne from the ruins of the Council Hall. Blackened beams and charred stones knit themselves together, and a single maroon cushion settled upon the throne’s seat. When it was finished, Asterbury hopped into it. The ends of the arms formed themselves into human skulls.

“Whaddya think, Revaramek?” Asterbury’s voice echoed up to him. He waved his hand over the throne. “Too cliché? Maybe it’s too much, but I’ve always wanted to sit in a villainous throne!” He leaned back. “Now, I take it you’re here for our climatic confrontation? Might be a bit early, but if you insist.”

“Hoping to prevent it, actually!” Revaramek winged his way around the inside of the storm’s eye, trying to size everything up.

“Oh, what a shame!” Asterbury clambered up onto the back of his throne, sweeping his hand across the platform around him. “And after I’d gone to so much trouble to assemble a dramatic stage for our battle! I’ll admit, I’m feeling a little insulted!”

The dragon ignored the babbling madman for the moment. He circled the platform in the clear air. Tentacles of cloud crept up over the edges of it, as if desperate to reach the one they held aloft. Somewhat to the dragon’s surprise, he saw Jekk was still alive. The old man was sitting on the platform, with his head in his hands. Asterbury must have had something unpleasant in mind for him. The dragon growled. Where the hell was Aylaryl? She must have been out in the storm, somewhere. Damn it, he hoped she wasn’t already burning things down.

“I came because I have an offer for you, Asterbury!”

“How intriguing!” Asterbury twisted around, lifting his arms over his head. “Allow me to present my counteroffer!”

Asterbury clapped twice.

Shit.

Revaramek folded a wing and banked as sharply as he could. Aylaryl rocketed out of the sloped cloud wall, vortexes swirling off the tips of her wings. She shot past him in a purple blur, her claw tips tearing through the edge of his left wing. The hot pain made him suck in a breath as he dove away.

Once well beyond him, Aylaryl wheeled about for another pass. At the same time Revaramek pumped his own wings, ascending sharply in an attempt to come up beneath her. He met her just as she finished her turn and snapped at her throat from below. Aylaryl lashed at him with unsheathed claws to drive him back. She pounded her wings against the air, taking a deep breath. Once more Revaramek dropped away. Fire followed him. The painful heat of washed across the back of his wings.

“Get back here, traitor!”

Instead of replying, Revaramek clamped his jaws shut. He was a better flier, and he always would be. Let her lash at the air, let voice her rage. He wasn’t taking her bait this time. No, he was setting the trap. Revaramek banked around and flew up under her again, baring his fangs as he shot for her underbelly. Just as before, Aylaryl spat flame at him. Revaramek went into a short dive to get back out of range. As soon as Aylaryl did the same, Revaramek beat his wings to soar past her. He lashed his sharp-edged tail spines for her face.

The purple dragon snatched his tail in her forepaws. Claws cut through scale as he pulled it free. He swallowed back his pained cry. Rather than accelerate away from her, he back-winged. Revaramek slowed just enough to smash his hind paw right between her horns. The force of the blow snapped her jaws together and left her wobbling in the air. Blood dripped from both her muzzle and his tail to paint the land below with crimson splotches.

“Bite your tongue?” Revaramek folded his wings, dropping away. “How will you lick Asterbury’s boots now?”

Snarling her fury, Aylaryl dove after him. She blasted fire in his wake. Her flames singed the sensitive membranes connecting his tail spines. Revaramek cried out against grit teeth, hoping his poor tail webbing wasn’t too badly burned. Not that it was going to matter for long if it was. At least that rage was just what he was trying to drag out of her.

Revaramek pulled his wings tighter, steepening his dive. Behind him, the purple dragon did the same, descending even faster than he was. She was getting careless, Revaramek thought, she must have really wanted to conquer him once and for all. That carelessness was just what he needed. He flared his own wings to bleed off speed as they approached the hill’s summit. The dragon knew he had to slow down enough to avoid tearing his flight muscles with his next maneuver. Aylaryl roared as she overtook him, her claws out and aimed for his wings. If she sunk them into him, she could ride him into the ground before he was able to break off his dive.

But she’d never get that chance, because that was his plan. That was the trap he’d set. At the last moment, he threw his wings open as wide as they’d go to cut off his dive, then beat them once, sharply. He hurtled up past Aylaryl, his tail striking her jaw with a jarring thud. As she shot by beneath him, Revaramek folded his wings and dropped. In an instant he crashed into Aylaryl’s back, his weight slamming against her.

The force of the impact knocked her out of her dive, and into freefall. Aylaryl screamed, a sound of abject terror as she plummeted. Shit! He’d wanted to ride her down, not knock her out of the air completely. It wasn’t as if he’d ever tried this before. With Revaramek on her back, Aylaryl thrashed and struggled and screamed again. In a moment of sudden, cold fear, Revaramek realized she was panicking. If she’d use her damn wings, she could help slow their drop enough to save herself.

If she died, Asterbury’s grief might…

“Wings!” Still clutching her, Revaramek flared his own wings, scooping the air. Their combined weight was too much, tearing at his flight muscles, but he refused to let her go until he had no choice. She might not recover. “Aylaryl! Wings, damn you, use your wings!”

Revaramek released her, unable to hold on any longer. Aylaryl threw her wings out again, arresting her dive just before she would have shattered herself against the ground. But she couldn’t pull up fast enough to avoid smashing into the outbuildings that dotted the landscape around the council hall’s charred husk. Wood exploded all around the female dragon. The impact flipped her over and she crashed through the remnants of the palisade that once surrounded the summit. Logs cracked and broke as she toppled through them. Aylaryl screamed.

So did Asterbury. “Aylaryl!” For the very first time, Revaramek heard real fear in the urd’thin’s voice.

Revaramek circled around and dropped onto the trail of debris she’d left in her wake. His back throbbed, but his sore flight muscles scarcely even registered when he saw Aylaryl. She lay in a crumpled purple heap, halfway down the hill, beyond broken outbuildings and the shattered hole she’d punched through the wall. Blood splattered broken logs, trailed across the flattened grass, and caked her scales. One wing lay twisted at an unnatural angle, hints of bone showed through torn membrane. A foreleg bent the wrong direction, its paw twitching and bloodied. A hunk of fractured wood as big around as Revaramek’s foreleg pierced her deep in her underbelly, jutting from her like a spear.

Oh, no.

Aylaryl tried to grab at with her other forepaw, only to cry out. She lifted her paw, staring at the blood that caked it with wide, silver-white eyes. All the anger was gone from those eyes. Now only terror filled them.

Oh, no, no. Revaramek ran down the hill towards her. He hadn’t wanted to kill her. He’d known since she tried to kill Mirelle that he might have to take her life. But to actually see her lying crippled and broken, frightened, in pain…dying…

In a sundering blue-white thunderbolt, Asterbury was there. The brilliant light seared Revaramek’s eyes, the roar of it pierced his ears, and the sheer concussive force lifted him off his feet and hurled him backwards. He thrashed at the air for a second before he hit the earth, tumbling across it. Pain thudded through him. His claws caught grassy ground, and he righted himself, plated chest heaving with his panted breath.

Asterbury knelt alongside Aylaryl, stroking her scales with trembling hands. The small creature’s shoulders shook, and he pressed his muzzle to her body. She lifted her head, staring down at him. He looked up at her, gesturing with a bloodied hand. Asterbury lay his head upon her, an ear pressed to her chest.

Heal her. Revaramek hissed through sharp teeth. Just heal her already!

As Revaramek took a few steps towards them, he realized he wasn’t even sure what he was hoping for anymore. Part of him wanted the little rat to make himself vulnerable so Revaramek could try and slay him, end this here and now. If he could save the village without sacrifice, all the better. But if he killed Asterbury too early, Aylaryl would die too. He knew she’d brought it on herself, but that didn’t make it any easier. The dragon slunk closer, staying cautious in case Asterbury was just trying to lure him in.

“Asterbury…” Alyaryl’s voice was taut with pain and horrified fear. “Please…don’t…”

Revaramek froze. Was he just going to let her die?

“I have too.” Asterbury’s voice was soft, cracking with barely restrained sobs. “You’re dying!”

“No! What if…what if you…”

“It doesn’t matter!” Asterbury reached for the stake jutting from her body. “I won’t let you die!”

“But…you…you know…what will happen…if you lose control…”

“I won’t!”

Oh, Gods. Revaramek’s jaw dropped, his spines all hung limp. An icy knot tangled itself in his belly. She wasn’t begging him to save her. It wasn’t herself she was worried about, at all.

“But…he’ll come for you!” Aylaryl wheezed, fear and agony stretching her voice taut. “You can’t do both…it’s too much…”

“Yes I can!” Asterbury glanced back at the dragon, dark eyes aflame. “Was this your plan, Hero?” His voice was a twisting serpent, writhing with both wretched sorrow and bitter anger at the same time. “To make me watch her die slowly, in the hopes of striking me down while I save her life?” Asterbury balled up a fist. “What a noble effort! Wouldn’t mother be proud.”

“That’s…” Revaramek wanted to bite his own tongue. He almost said, that’s not my plan. But Asterbury didn’t know what his plan was, or he wouldn’t have asked. “I didn’t want this.”

The urd’thin ignored him. “Aylaryl, take a deep breath. I have to pull this out, and-”

“No! If I’m…meant to die, and you change it, you’ll…”

“I’d rather ruin this world to save your life than watch you die! But I won’t! I can do this, I promise you!” In that moment, Asterbury sounded like nothing more a terrified pup, struggling to save his family without tearing the sky asunder all over again. “You have to trust me!”

Revaramek gasped, his eyes widening, frills flaring. He bound towards them, suddenly fully aware of what Aylaryl was afraid of. She knew. She knew, didn’t she? She knew the pup tore the sky to save his father, the father tore the sky to save his son, and she feared it was all about to happen all over again. That her world would be the next to crumble, just because Asterbury refused to let her go.

Surely, Asterbury had the power to save her, but, with all those emotions roiling within him, all the self-doubt after what happened last time, could he safely harness it? And now, even Aylaryl didn’t seem to believe he could do it without the worst happening. The more she feared the end, the more he feared bringing it about, the more his powers slipped his grasp. It was like a prophecy that just kept fulfilling itself.

Revaramek knew he had to make a choice. “Wait! You have to let-”

“NO!” Asterbury screamed the word, the sound a shockwave erupting from him. The ground rippled in all directions. An unseen force thumped into Revaramek, driving him back. “I don’t have to let anything happen!”

“Revaramek!” Jekk’s voice drifted down to him. He jerked his head around, staring up at the cobbled platform. He’d almost forgotten the old man was still up there. “The full flame! It’s not just anger that brings it out, it’s fear! When he’s afraid, he starts to lose control-”

“I have all the control!” Asterbury’s voice was a roar that brought lightning to the sky, and belied his own words. It roiled above the town, coalescing into a sphere high above the eye of the storm. Clouds drifted towards it, spiraling into the growing dark within. “I can save her!”

Something clicked in Revaramek’s head. Asterbury would never let her die like this. The urd’thin was prepared to defend himself against the dragon, keep his storm going, and heal Aylaryl at the same time. Yet the more he was forced to do at once, the greater the chances he’d lose control. As the urd’thin put his ear back to Aylaryl’s chest, and reached towards the sky, Revaramek had a sickening realization. All his ideas about taking Aylaryl down to get to Asterbury were horribly, horribly wrong.

One of the few things Asterbury couldn’t do was accept loss.

The pup always tried to save the father.

The father always tried save the pup.

They all lead to Asterbury.

Asterbury could never let go. He’d never choose the greater good. No matter what happened to Aylaryl, Asterbury would save her even if it meant ending the world.

“Asterbury, you-”

Asterbury snarled and flung his hand towards the green dragon. Palisade posts flew out of the ground and shot towards him. Revaramek leapt into the air. One sharp post slammed into the earth, another barely missed his underbelly. The third was aimed for his head. Revaramek beat his wings harder, rising high enough to kick the immense spear off-course with a hind paw.

“Listen to me!” The dragon flicked a wing, spinning away from another wooden missile. Gods-damn it, he had to get Asterbury to listen. Revaramek dropped back to the earth. “This…this wasn’t what I wanted! This wasn’t how her story was meant to end! I came here to-”

“And it won’t be!” Asterbury snarled, his ears back, his fangs bared. The lightning sphere above them all grew larger, engulfing the opening of the storm’s eye. The sunlight that poured down through the hole in the clouds dimmed. “I can save her, and if you think you can slay me while-”

“No!” Revaramek shook his head. “I can’t!” He thrust a forepaw up to the sphere in the sky, tendrils of blue lightning coiling over each other, growing larger. “I know if she dies, your grief will ruin this beautiful world! And if I make you fight me, you’ll use too much power trying to defend yourself and save Aylaryl! You’ll lose control, and either way, all your anger, all your fear, they feed that hole in the sky!” His voice dropped away. “So just save her. I won’t fight you. Let everything else go.” He settled on his haunches, his head low. He waved his paw at the writhing storm swirling around the hill. “Let all this go, and just save her. I know you can do it.”

Asterbury stared at him in shock. He dropped his hands. His big ears drooped, and his dark eyes shone with uncertainty. The urd’thin blinked, and there was someone else in his eyes. In that moment, it wasn’t Asterbury staring back at him, but Vakaal, terrified of being alone. The urd’thin turned away, stroking Aylaryl’s bloody scales. Her breathing was getting more labored by the moment. Asterbury murmured to her, then glanced back at Revaramek. He wrung his hands, his tail twitching. He whimpered, tears brimming in his eyes. For at least that moment, everything dark in Asterbury was gone, and there was only Vakaal, uncertain and afraid.

Revaramek shivered, and rose to his paws. He kept his voice soft, easing closer. “You can save her. But you have to act now.” Gods, what else could he say? What…what would the father in the story, say? He knew it was a risk but… “It’s your story, Vakaal.” Revaramek took another slow, cautious step forward. “All you ever have to do is tell it.”

Asterbury sucked in a breath, his whole body tensed. At first Revaramek feared he’d said the wrong thing. But then Asterbury lifted his hands to the sky. For the first time, Revaramek heard him speak his changes aloud. “The storms ebbed away. Quiet settled over the land.” His voice was changed, softer.

All around them, the raging storm died away. It dissipated as quickly as it had appeared, wispy walls of red and gold clouds collapsing. Sand blew into little dunes in the streets running down the hill and below it. The makeshift platform with Asterbury’s throne sunk to the earth. The crackling lightning faded, the sphere shrunk as Asterbury pulled his power back, pulled his anger back. Let his fear ebb away.

More and more, Revaramek understood him. Mind of a grieving father, heart of a frightened child, soul of a vengeful god. Draw any one of them too far into the light, and chaos ensued. Fury brought out that chaos behind Mirelle’s tavern, but this time, it was fear. Fear that he’d once again lose the one he cared for most. Fear that he wouldn’t have his chance to save her because Revaramek would attack. Fear that he’d be left utterly alone, all over again. Bring out the fear and the fury, bring out the grief and the vengeance, and you got the full flame. And not even Asterbury could stop such power from scorching the earth.

So Revaramek only encouraged him. “Go on. You can save her. It’s easy for you. You’re safe. You won’t be alone.”

“Like a great spear, the stake had pierced her.” Asterbury put his hand around the haft of the bloodied hunk of wood. “But it did not pierce so deep, after all. It did not rupture her liver. She was not bleeding to death.”

The green dragon cringed when Aylaryl screamed. He pinned his ears back, and before he could stop himself, he settled near her head. He took it in his forelegs, stroking her muzzle. “It’ll be over soon, Aylaryl. He’s gonna save you. The world will be fine…”

Asterbury pulled the stake from her belly. It came out in one smooth motion that even Revaramek wasn’t sure he could have managed. Deep, red blood gushed after it, and Aylaryl’s back arched. The female dragon’s shriek bubbled with so much agony it made Revaramek’s belly hurt too. Asterbury pushed his hand to the gaping wound. More blood poured over his fingers, staining his fur, his clothes. He whined and turned his head to stare up at Revaramek.

“Will you help me?” He still sounded like that lost pup, frightened and alone. “Please…She’s lost too much blood. I don’t want to lose her. Help me?”

Revaramek flattened his spines, wondering just how lost in his own consciousness Asterbury was. “How?”

“The story thinks you want her to die. It will fight me. The sky will…” His words trailed into a whine. “But…It listens to you, now. If you want her to live…it will listen. So…help me tell a story of her survival.”

“How…how do I…do that?”

Asterbury tilted his head, one ear up. “The same way you told me to do it. Just tell her story…like I do. Just…say what I say.” The urd’thin took a deep breath, splaying his fingers against her scales. “Her bleeding eased.”

Revaramek clutched Aylaryl’s head, uncertain but willing to try. If he was right about himself, if this was why he was able to harm Asterbury before, how he saved Mirelle… “Her…her bleeding eased.”

A hot coal ignited in his heart. He cried out, and the heat poured through him, into Aylaryl.

Asterbury looked up at him, smiling. “She had not lost too much blood.”

Revaramek sucked in a breath, forcing out the words. “She had not lost too much blood!”

The coal in his heart exploded. Searing agony ran through his veins. He cried out alongside Aylaryl as it poured out of him and into her, coaxing another scream. She thrashed, but the blood gushing from her body eased. The winds shifted, and everything smelled hot, and acrid, vellum burning all around him. Aylaryl’s lifepulse thudded in her neck, beneath his pads.

“Her wounds closed!” Asterbury’s voice twisted, fear ebbing away, strength returning.

In the back of his mind, Revaramek wondered if he was letting a chance to slay Asterbury slip through his claws. Could he have ambushed him while that frightened pup inside had put his trust in the dragon’s paws? Maybe. But in his heart, Revaramek knew he’d be no hero then. He’d be no better than the monsters who once tortured Vakaal, or the beast that Asterbury became. And if he wasn’t a hero, he couldn’t save this story.

“Her wounds closed!” Revaramek snarled his words. In his mind, he saw a light inside himself, a spark, an ember, burning away. It shone so brightly he feared that when this was done, it would be gone as quick as it came. The gaping wound in Aylaryl’s belly slowly closed itself up.

“She was not bent or broken!” Asterbury’s fingers dug into Aylaryl’s scales. “She was whole!”

“She was not…bent…or broken!” The more he spoke, the more he envisioned Aylaryl whole again, the more the pain stole his voice. The ember poured its heat from his heart one last time, and with rasping effort, Revaramek howled the last words. “She was whoooole!”

Aylaryl’s broken limb and wing twisted themselves back into shape. She squealed, thrashing in agony Revaramek suddenly understood far too well. Whatever spark it was that he called upon to help mend her body, it was as if it came at the cost of being burned alive. Fire licked at the inside of his own foreleg, and all across his sensitive wing membranes. His vision blurred, and his whole body went limp. Revaramek flopped back against the ground, banging his one-horned head against the blood-stained earth.

Everything went white.

*****

The pain inside him, and the blank whiteness in his vision faded breath by breath. Revaramek thought he’d passed out for a few moments, but he couldn’t be sure. When his sight returned, he saw Asterbury throw his arms around Aylaryl’s neck. He hugged her tightly, murmuring to her, stroking her scales.

In his weakened, half-conscious state, Revaramek’s thoughts wandered. Had Asterbury had only called upon Revaramek’s help so he wouldn’t wear himself out? Or maybe it was just healing himself that sapped his strength. Maybe healing someone never truly weakened Asterbury at all, and it was just another part of his act, to lull his enemies into lowering their guard.

Revaramek tried to roll over, but all his limbs were like rubber, wobbly and half numb. He couldn’t even rise. Aylaryl turned her head down to stare at him, looking as confused as he’d ever imagined a dragon could look. Her muzzle parted, and her jaw trembled. She flicked her ears back, and lowered her head, a minor show of draconic contrition.

“Thank you, Revaramek.”

I didn’t do it for you! I did it so he wouldn’t annihilate our town! Was what he wanted to say. But all that really came out was… “Iiarrrdingnfrryoo! Iiiirdidsooowoooden…enhilaaaah….”

“Awww, look at poor Mr. The Resplendent.” Asterbury eased away from Aylaryl to smile down at the green dragon. “All tuckered out from his first story-change. How adorable.” He cackled, but his laughter died after a moment. “But, yes. A genuine thank you, for…pulling me back. And for teaching me something about myself…”

Revaramek worked his tongue over his muzzle, taking his time to form the words. “Don’t suppose…that means…you’re going to be a nicer person, now.”

That drew another round of cackling laughter from Asterbury. “Oh, by all means, I’ll clean up my act! I’ll feed the homeless and shelter the poor.” He rubbed his hands together. “Why, I’ll feed the poor to the homeless. And speaking of the homeless, where’d I leave old Councilman Jekk? I wasn’t done with him.” He gazed around, shifting debris in the distance with a wave of his hand. “Off rooting about in the ruins of his council hall? Or digging for a treasured memory perhaps? Oh, and on the subject of memories…” He whirled around, snatching Revaramek by his unbroken horn. Growling, he lifted the dragon’s head up to eye level. “Don’t ever call me Vakaal again.”

“Why not?” Revaramek glared right back at him. All his cackling, all his bad jokes, they just seemed like an act now, as if desperate to cover up what just happened to him. “Don’t like what it brings out?”

“Vakaal is dead.” He let the dragon go. “They’re all dead. Given the way you spoke to me, I’m guessing you already knew that. You knew just what to say, didn’t you. So was that your plan, Hero?” He returned to Aylaryl, stroking her neck. “Mortally wound the person I care most about, try to draw out poor little Vakaal? Not a bad plan, but flawed. You see, they’re not just…” He waggled a few fingers alongside his head. “Rattling around in there, waiting their turn. I may lose myself in a memory, but, it’s all me now.”

“I know who you are.” Revaramek eased himself up to his haunches, groaning. “And I know who I saw in your eyes.” He gazed down at his forepaws. “It…makes me very sad, actually. I think at heart, you’re more Vakaal than anyone else. Or maybe his memories just haunt you the most.”

“I’m not Vakaal.”

“I know, I know…you’re Asterbury. I understand.” Revaramek slowly lifted his gaze to the urd’thin. “More than you think, I suspect. I know what it’s like…to be alone, to…lose yourself in something you wished was real. But for you, you could…make anything real. I know you’re not Vakaal, but I think there’s a version of him that’s become the biggest part of you. The first one to see it…to feel it…all. But I…I understand. I know what you are, now.”

The urd’thin took a deep breath, then let out a long sigh. He leaned against Aylaryl, folding his arms. She circled a foreleg around his waist. “You know, I think you’re the first to say that. People always ask me what I am. Once they start to see what I can do, then they start to wonder. They start to ask.” He stared off into the horizon, his voice softening. “Do you know what Vakaal was? What he really was? He was different, you see. Different from all the rest. Vakaal was life. Pure and innocent, and…unlike any other. He could heal with a thought, with no trouble. Didn’t hurt him, didn’t take anything out of him. Just a smile, and all your wounds were gone. All he ever wanted was to…to dance and…make music, and sing. He just wanted…to share his happiness. With everyone.”

Asterbury sniffed, swallowed, and wipe away a tear. “And they broke him. They took his father apart, to see how strong his healing was. Put a knife in his heart, right in front of him. Just to make him stronger. There was nothing he couldn’t do, but they put fear in him, made him wonder if he’d be strong enough. All he really wanted was for the pain to end. But they…they never knew. Never knew that he was already strong, stronger than they could imagine. They took his beautiful soul, and they…they…” Asterbury’s voice twisted into a snarl. “He was life, and they broke him!” He clasped the strange medallion woven into the fur of his chest, his fingers clenched. “So now you’re stuck with me. And me? I’m death.”

“I know.” Revaramek arched his neck, gazing down at the urd’thin. “Just look at you, covered in blood. In the middle of a ruin, in a city you want to conquer. I know what you are, and I know why I have to save this place from you. It’s…sad. It’s unfair. I think I would have liked Vakaal. But Asterbury’s a real asshole.”

A smile twitched at Asterbury’s muzzle. He lifted one of his hands, staring at the dragon blood caking his fur. “So he is. And you still think you can kill me?” He tilted his head, dropping his hand back down. “Why didn’t you try? While you had the chance.”

“Because I’m not a monster.”

Asterbury flicked his ears back, blood-stained muzzle curling into a sneer. “Oh, is this the holier than thou moment? Going to tell me how you’d never stoop to my level? Save it!” He snapped his teeth, then held a hand out towards the council ruin. “Oh, there’s the old man! Now, what say we get this party back on-”

“I didn’t come here to kill you.” Revaramek stared down at the urd’thin. “I didn’t even come here to fight Aylaryl. But she ambushed me, and-”

“Actually, you’re right.” Asterbury spun back again, jabbing a finger at Aylaryl. “You’re done fighting with Revaramek. You’ve had your fun, now I’m pulling you out. This was far too close a call. So next time, Hero, you’re dealing with me, and we’re gonna play for keeps.”

“No, we aren’t.” Revaramek sharpened his tone, lowering his head. “You can’t kill me, Asterbury.”

“You don’t think so?” Asterbury held out his hand, a dangerous glint in his eye. The jagged piece of wood he’d wrenched from Aylaryl’s belly flew into his hand, still stained in her blood. He spun it around his fingers, then aimed it at Revaramek’s chest. “Bet you old man Jekk’s head that I can punch this right through you.”

“You won’t.” Revaramek flattened his ears back, refusing to be intimidated now. “I’ve figured it out, Asterbury. The thing you can’t do.”

“Oh?” The makeshift spear lowered ever so slightly. “And exactly what is it you think I can’t-”

“Travel.” Revaramek spat the word like excess fire bile. “Between worlds. The one who made your people and gave you your powers? He saw how the storytellers ruined the world you inherited, ruined it with all their gates, and so he never gave you that ability. No matter how hard you try, you can’t travel between worlds. You can’t build a gate, and you can’t open one that already exists. The only time you ever travel is when you accidentally blast yourself out of one existence, and into another. Or until you change the story so much it casts you out. Seems to be awfully close to happening lately, so I don’t think this story likes you. It wants to be a comedy, and you’re…disturbing.”

Asterbury gripped the hunk of splintered palisade in both hands. The wood bent beneath his bloody fingers like clay. “Is that what you think?”

“It’s why you’re so obsessed with how I got here, isn’t? Because you’re trapped in this world, and you want out. You want to get back to your desert.”

Asterbury snapped the pole in half, snarling. “The desert’s gone.”

“But I bet with all that power, you’ve wondered if you can start it again, haven’t you?” Revaramek shrugged his wings, sighing. “It’d what Vakaal would want, I think. If he was life, than maybe he can build your people anew.”

“Get.” Asterbury tossed the broken wood aside. Both pieces dissolved into sand before they even reached the ground. “To the point.”

“I talked to Jekk. He told me the gates will only open for someone with what he called the spark, the ember. You were testing me, weren’t you?” Revaramek matched the urd’thin’s snarl with one of his own. “When you tried to murder Mirelle.” His growl deepened. “My friend. After what just happened, I’d say I passed the test. The point, Asterbury.” Revaramek lowered his head, muzzle to muzzle with the urd’thin. “Is that now I know why you need me alive. The storyteller gates will open for me, but not for you. So I came here to offer you a deal.”

The urd’thin just glared at him. If Revaramek wasn’t so worn out by what he’d just done, he’d be clapping his paws and laughing on the inside.  Asterbury didn’t seem to appreciate that Revaramek had figured it out. Which, the dragon hoped, meant he was right. It sure felt good to finally get one over on the cackling lunatic. But he knew he shouldn’t rub it in.

Well, maybe a little. The dragon smiled, perking his ears. “What’s the matter, you didn’t see that one coming? Didn’t know I was going to figure that out on my own? Guess you’re not so all-WHAAAAH!”

A startled yowl cut off his words when Asterbury hurled him into the air so fast he was afraid he’d left his stomach behind. Revaramek flailed, beat his wings, but could not stop his ascent. As the town fell away, the platform with Asterbury’s makeshift throne upon it rose back up into the air. Revaramek jerked to a stop, and then fell right back down to thump against the floating dais. The impact knocked the air from his lungs, left stars fluttering in his vision. Asterbury reached the platform in a single impossible bound, with Ayaryl following just behind. She settled onto the structure as gently as a hatchling would be set into bed by its father.

“What’re you proposing?” Asterbury wiped his hands against each other. Water materialized from his fingers, rinsing away the blood.

Revaramek lifted his head, groaning. He rubbed the base of his broken horn, a dull pain throbbing steadily in his skull. “What the hell…thought we were havin’ a moment.”

“Tell me what you propose, or I drop the old man.” Asterbury gestured behind the dragon with a half-cleaned hand, stains fading from his fur.

Revaramek turned, and saw Jekk suspended upside down off the edge of the platform, struggling against the air. He cringed, flicked his ears back. “First promise not to drop him anyway.”

“Suppose I could keep him around a little longer.”

Revaramek scrunched his muzzle. That would have to do for now. “If you agree to my terms, then from now on, I will work for you.”

Aylaryl jerked her head up. “What?”

He glared at her a moment, unable to tell if she was happy, angry, or just shocked. “You’re the one who gave me the idea. You offered me a place at your table, remember?”

“And you said you’d never-”

“I don’t think I can kill Asterbury.” Revaramek dragged claws over flagstone and wood, cobbled together beneath him. “I’ve tried enough times to realize I’m probably going to keep failing. But I refuse to yield this town, this world, or my friends to you. So you leave this village alone, forever, and I’ll…” He stared at his paws, sighing. “Help you. I’ll open the gate my mother and I came here through, and help you go to any other story you want.”

Asterbury ran his hands down his vest, cleaning it with a swipe of his fingers. “What happened to your poor memory?”

“Nothing. I still scarcely remember the details. I was barely even old enough to speak back then.” Revaramek flexed his wings, then flicked his tail at the old man in the distance. “But when I told Jekk I remembered a device, he told me about the gates. And why my mother and I were able to open one.” He narrowed his eyes, hissing. “And why you can’t.” When Asterbury just glared at him, he smiled. “I’m guessing your infuriated silence means I’m right. So, agree to the terms, and I think I can lead you there.”

“I can find it without-”

“Doesn’t matter if you can’t open it.” Revaramek shook himself, and stalked towards the urd’thin, growling. “There’s only two endings here, Asterbury. You agree to all of my terms, and I help you open whatever gates you want. Or, I keep trying to kill you until you’re forced to end my life to save your own. And then you’re stuck here. Forever. No desert, no more storytellers to-”

“Then maybe I tear this world apart, just to spite you!” Asterbury’s fists shook.

Revaramek lifted his gaze to stare at Aylaryl. “I don’t think so. For a wicked little monster, you sure care about an awful lot of people here. Aylaryl, Enora, the gryphons, your va’chaak. You ruin the world and all your friends die. And then you’re stuck here. Alone. I’d wager that scares you even more than losing your chance to make it home, or…” He swished a paw in the air. “Murder more storytellers and whatever else you dream of.”

Asterbury toyed with one of the silver bracelets around his wrist. He glanced up at Aylaryl. She shrugged her wings. The urd’thin looked at some of the symbols and runes he’d woven into his fur.  “Maybe I’ll just tear you apart, and conquer this world, instead. Why, I could make myself a cloak out of your hide, and wear your head like a helmet. Call myself The Resplendent and go banter with Mirelle.”

The dragon scratched his neck with a wing tip talon, staring down at the urd’thin. “You do want to go home, don’t you?”

“My home is gone, so don’t-”

“You turned a desert into a swamp. Maybe you can turn it back. And Jekk said…” Revaramek glanced back at the old man. Poor bastard’s face was redder by the moment. “Will you put him down? Gently!”

“Not till we’re done here. Continue.”

Revaramek dragged his claws against the platform, trying to tear up a bit of wood. “He said they used to have something called a fracture gate. It let them travel not just world to world, but…A to B, B to C…and to the points where they change. If you found one of those, maybe you could…” Frustration boiled in Revaramek’s belly. He waved his paw, then spat a burst of red-orange flame over the urd’thin’s head. Asterbury didn’t even flinch. “Well, you figure it out! Are you interested or not?”

“Let’s say I am.” Asterbury traced a finger across a black rune. “What would you expect in return from your help?”

The dragon blinked at the rune. “Is that my gods-damned horn?”

Asterbury peered at it, shrugging. “Not anymore. Your terms, Hero?”

Revaramek took a deep breath. “That you leave this village alone. You leave all the villages here alone. You leave Mirelle alone. You don’t conquer her town, you don’t harass it, and you sure as hell don’t try and trick my friends into staging a coup on your behalf.”

“I’d never dream of it.” Asterbury put a hand over the emblem above his heart.

“Good, because I’ve already staged one. I kicked out the council and put Mirelle in charge. And since you’d never send our mutual allies to do your dirty work, you’ll be happy to know Mirelle’s already recruited our gryphon friends to her village’s cause.”

Asterbury only sneered, flicking an ear back. “Aren’t you all proactive lately.”

“To sweeten the pot, Mirelle will negotiate with all your lizard friends and discuss terms to let them return to their home lands. To build villages of their own here, or become citizens of Mirelle’s city.”

“Oh, doesn’t that sound like a good deal!” Asterbury waved his hands, scowling. “Sorry we took your lands and murdered your families, but we’ll make it up to you by letting you live in our filthiest slums! I’m not sure I can advise them to accept that.”

“That’s a shame, because Enora thinks otherwise. She’s offered to help Mirelle negotiate with…what were their names?” He tilted his head. “Rekrek and Gavak, I think?”

Asterbury’s ears perked. “What about them?”

“Enora knows them, right? She won’t let them get screwed over.”

“Well, I don’t know.” Asterbury twisted one of his bracelets around his wrist, smirking. “Uncle Rekky was really looking forward to getting to do a little looting. And poor Gavak will be heartbroken if he doesn’t get to make things right for his ancestors’ honor.”

“He’s gonna get something else broken if Mirelle has to use her maul on him.” Revaramek lowered his head again, muzzle to muzzle with Asterbury. “They’d better not push their luck with her.”

“Yes, I’m sure her farm implement will strike some real fear into their warrior hearts.” Asterbury sneered, flicking an ear back.

“What was it that happened last time?” Revaramek tilted his head, tapping a claw against a flagstone. “Oh, right’s right. She pinned his hand to his chest with a knife, and you had to heal him. Just like you had to heal Aylaryl after Mirelle found that maul. And now she’s got an small army backing her up.” He shrugged his copper-splotched wings. “By all means, just keep underestimating her. If she has to rout them in battle, that’ll just give her more leverage to negotiate with.”

“Maybe if she’s that much of a threat…” Asterbury traced a finger around one of the runes made from the dragon’s horn. “I ought to invite her up here to the VIP section with us. Or maybe she’s about due for a sudden onset of old age…”

“No.” Revaramek gave a one-horned head a single shake. “She’s off-limits. That town needs her, and that’s part of the deal. She stays in power, and unharmed. You try anything else, and one of us ends up dead today. Then you’re screwed either way. I’d advise you to tell your lizards to negotiate with her, but if they attack anyway, that’s their problem.”

“So you’re telling me I can give them the order to invade, and if they kill Mirelle, that won’t violate your terms?” Asterbury glanced up at Aylaryl, clucking his tongue. “I don’t know about you, dear, but I don’t think Revaramek quite understands the concept of bargaining.”

“They won’t kill her.” Revaramek curled his tail, spines scraping against the platform. “She and I are the heroes this story chose. And this story, it wants to be…no, it is a comedy, and that means the heroes win. If they invade, they’ll lose, I promise you that.”

“You must be awfully sure to be betting her life on it.”

The dragon turned his head, gazing at the town below them. There was damage everywhere. Guards were helping people, or waiting in defensive positions, or patrolling the streets. A few groups looked as if they’d already seen combat. He saw men being carried by their comrades towards the areas Mirelle set up the medical staff. Isolated va’chaak were limping through back alleys. A few more were dragging their own bloodied companions. They must have slipped a few raiding groups in first. From the looks of things, they’d met more than their match.

Men on horseback waited in plazas near the two largest gates. Va’chaak massed around the same gates, more than he’d ever seen in one place. Orderly lines of soldiers stood in position on the other side of the wall, ready and waiting to meet their enemy. Chir’raal circled above them, making his new allegiance clear. Mirelle herself rode on Kurekka’s back, speaking to the gathered men. A little bit of warm pride swelled the dragon’s heart, puffing out his chest plates.

“I am.” Revaramek swung his head back around to the urd’thin. “If Mirelle has to fight them, she’s going to win. You should know that. After all you’re the one who convinced me it’s all a story.”

“Maybe I just used my powers to trick you. Put that whole Gorpalorp nonsense into your heads. Maybe I only use stories as a metaphor, and you’re all the bigger fool for believing it so completely.”

“I think you believe it, too.” Revaramek turned his bronze gaze back to the urd’thin. “After all, not long ago you were the one asking for my help, telling me the story is listening. And you know what? It is listening. Maybe it’s about time you start listening to me, too. Because Mirelle is going to win.”  He glared at Asterbury, tapping a single black claw against the wood. “You should take the deal.”

Aylaryl flattened her ears and lowered her head, murmuring something into Asterbury’s ear. He reached up and stroked her jawline, whispering back to her.

Revaramek shifted his weight. “You’re getting almost everything you want. You just don’t get to murder anyone else.” He swept his wing out towards the edge of the floating dais. “Including Jekk. So put him down already.”

“I’m confused, then.” Asterbury walked to the edge of the platform, glaring down at Jekk. He twisted his hand in the air, and the old man spun upright, gasping. “What exactly are you getting out of this? Seems like Mirelle and her village are the beneficiaries here.”

“Do you just not understand that sometimes people can act in others’ best interests?” Revaramek tossed his head, sighing. “Everyone lives, Asterbury. That’s what I get out of this. I’m not proud of it, but I’m willing to capitulate to make sure everyone survives.”

“Well, you do have a history of surrender under pressure, don’t you?”

Revaramek bristled, his spines standing on end, his sore tail webbing splayed. “You’re hilarious. We both know I’d rather kill you, but so far that hasn’t worked out. So this is the only way I can think of to save everyone. This is what I’m offering. You get what you want, a way back to your story, and any other. But this world, this story, the one that chose me to keep it safe? It stays safe. No more terrible things happening. My friends…Mirelle…they get to live their lives. This is the best ending I can offer. Everyone lives.”

“That’s awfully optimistic.”

“As long as they’re safe and free from you and your revenge obsession, I’m willing to call that a victory.” Revaramek arched his neck, unsheathing all his claws. “You know what? I’m tired of talking to you. Make your choice. Are you taking the deal, or should I try and kill you again?”

“It occurs to me this might all be a trick.” Asterbury folded his arms. “It also occurs to me the chance exists that you can’t actually open the gate.”

Revaramek shrugged his wings. “Suppose that’s true. Jekk thinks I can, but…if I can’t, I guess I’ll just have to find a way to kill you after all.”

“Perhaps a trial run is in order. To prove you can-”

“Wouldn’t it be funny if I couldn’t?” Revaramek cocked his head, then broken into long, tension relieving laughter. “Oh, gods, you’d have wasted so much time! You’d be sooooo angry! And you’d still be stuck here.”

“Yes.” Asterbury tapped fingers against the medallion at his chest. “Wouldn’t that be a lark? Very well, then. We’d best go find out, don’t you think?”

Revaramek, still laughing, tossed his head. “Whatever you want, you little fluffnut.”

“I have fluffy…” He trailed off, waving his hand. “Nevermind. Very well then, no deal till I know for sure, so a trial run it is. Shall we be off?”

“First Jekk.”

“Fine, fine.” Asterbury flicked his fingers, and Jekk dropped onto the edge of the platform, coughing. “I could use a hostage anyway.”

“Are you…insane, Dragon?” Jekk rose to his knees, wobbling. “You can’t…help him. If he’s trapped here, at least…he can’t hurt…any other worlds.”

“I can’t save them all, old man.” Revaramek shook his head, sighing. “I can only save this one.”

“Off we go, then!” Asterbury clasped his hands, smiling. “Which way to your gate, Revaramek?”

“Southwest, I think.” Revaramek gazed into the horizon. All the water sparkled beneath the brilliant sun. “Where the marsh grows deeper, and wilder. To what the people in town call the swamp. But first tell your va’chaak not to attack the city. Tell them Mirelle wants to negotiate.”

Asterbury waggled a finger at the dragon. “Oh, I’m afraid we haven’t struck our deal yet, so I won’t be telling them anything until we return. If they get anxious and invade before that, that’s Mirelle’s problem.”

“You rotten little…” Revaramek took a deep breath, then let it out in a long growl. “Fine, fine.  It’ll be their loss, anyway.” Revaramek sighed. “So are you riding Aylaryl there?”

“No, we’re all going together.” Asterbury walked back to his throne, and hopped up into the seat. “Shouldn’t take long, but you may as well settle in for the ride.”

The whole platform lurched through the air, picking up speed by the moment. It took all Revaramek had not to stare down at the town, not to watch it slide by. He was afraid if he watched the city fade into the distance, then his thoughts would be all too obvious in his sorrowful gaze. So he glanced at Jekk, instead. The old man gave him an angry glare and muttered about his betrayal. Revaramek sighed, staring at his paws.

The truth was, whatever happened next, the dragon knew he wasn’t coming back.

So far, so good.

Revaramek closed his eyes, and thought about his friend.

Goodbye, Mirelle.