Saga of the Dragon: Reign

[Izvilvin]

The Fallien sun rarely blessed the desert with a reprieve from its heat, but ever since Sasarai carved his home into the mountains, the sky had been darker. Perhaps it was the Gods' way of signaling the end of an era, perhaps nothing but coincidence, but it made the wizard's view over Nirrakal more majestic. The sun tended to make the sand too shiny, what with the shards of glass that littered the region.

"I am amused by this place," he said to himself. "Suravani made such a wasteland because of her hatred of pride and arrogance. Now here I stand, its new God. The Glasswalkers follow me, so easily controlled by their fear."

The wizard was having a moment of reflection, the first of which he'd taken since summoning the dragon, Glimmerfang. The beast's dominant strength provided Sasarai with a bargaining chip worth more than the rest of Althanas's piles. Only three days had passed, and after two of rest, Sasarai knew it was time to follow through on his threats, lest the people think his original threats were not made in earnest.

He stood atop a lavender-hued spire of stone that extended outward from the mountain, a similarly colored, jagged collection of earth that hopefully looked as imposing as Sasarai had desired. The only entrance to a groundling was the bottom opening, shaped like a dragon's maw in honor of the wizard's helpful slave. The result was a mountain shaped like the head of a dragon, deep purple in color and with towering spires extending from the head.

Of course for Sasarai and his dragon, there were multiple openings in the mountain to enter, where a boiling pit of magma kept the complex warm.

About the mountain was, naturally, miles of sand with massive shards of glass, multicolored all. For aesthetic purposes, Sasarai had created dozens of statues about the entrance of his cavern, depictions of times past. One was of his mother. Another was of a drow who Sasarai believed played a large part in unwittingly helping him summon Glimmerfang.

It all served a single purpose beyond making him grin at the audacity of it all: intimidating emissaries. Sasarai had no interest in destroying Althanas, merely ruling it, carving his own space in history and taking the world forward in the way that he thought was best. He was a thief of liberty, to be sure, but that didn't necessarily make him evil.

From his mental link came the word. "I'm ready," a mildly familiar voice said to him. It was time to test out the intimidation factor.

[Izvilvin]

A wave of Sasarai's hand opened a portal way off in the distance, barely within his range of sight. A green, swirling vortex crackling with magical energy, it closed as soon as a squirrelly-looking man appeared from beyond.

The human, an ambassador from Corone, wore fine clothing and thick spectacles. He looked about in confusion, not realizing for a few seconds that he was in Fallien. When he finally got his bearings, he began to slowly make his way toward the open mouth of the mountain dragon, seeing a dull orange glow from deep within. His feet crunched against shards of glass, and he moved slowly, trying hard to avoid injury.

"Oh, Ambassador Williams!" called a jovial Sasarai, descending a spiraling staircase of purple stone. Williams stood at the mouth of the cave, looked straight ahead down a long tunnel before meeting the wizard's gaze. "Very kind of you to be so punctual. Allow me to show you around."

Williams was shocked to be standing so close to a man who had killed so many, but was visibly relieved that the dragon was nowhere to be found. Without a word, he followed Sasarai as he made his way down the main tunnel, toward the orange glow that radiated heat into the very stone. He was amazed at the amount of detail here; the stone walls had etchings carved into them, magical phrases Williams didn't understand, and murals painted from colored rock. Sasarai was powerful indeed, but evidently he was equally as creative. One such drawing depicted Glimmerfang descending on Jya's Keep - Williams truly hoped the dragon was not quite as large as it suggested.

Eventually they arrived in what Williams assumed was the main chamber, a hollowed-out section of the mountain that looked like it could hold the entirety of Irrakam. At the far end of the huge, circular room was a hole in the ground from which an orange glow emanated - a pit that led to a pool of magma.

But it wasn't the size of the chamber that shocked Williams, nor was it the warmth coming from below. The entire cavern was willed with gold, with weapons and armor, with paintings and sculptures, all dedicated the Glimmerfang the dragon. Williams saw items that he didn't recognize, weapons curved in ways he'd never seen and had no knowledge of. Civilizations that no longer existed had left their items with the dragon, begging the question: just how old was Sasarai's creature?

"Don't let the treasure shock you, my pet enjoys his trinkets more than anything, it seems. He has no use for mountains of gold but to look at it, but he's collected all of this over generations."

"It is a magnificent collection," Williams finally said, gazing up at a hill of gold more than five times his height. At the top was a chest overflowing with gems and pearls. The man was thankful that the dragon was nowhere in sight.

"It inspires in me the point of our meeting, Ambassador," Sasarai said, walking deeper into the cavern. A pathway between hills of coins was there, littered with gold that had tumbled down to the stone. "As wealthy as my dragon is, I myself am a mere pauper. As you can imagine, since I am merely only beginning to build my empire here, gold is necessary to create a civilization."

Behind him, Williams listened intently, but was also careful to take close inventory of the cavern, determined to remember several of the items he saw strewn about the piles of gold.

"Moreover, a universal tax from each of our world's countries would benefit the world as a whole. I am not a selfish man, and I plan on using my new leadership to benefit all. For instance, the abolishment of war! There would be no purpose in the army, and maintaining peace would be the highest demand of Althanas' people. It doesn't sound so horrible, does it?"

Williams took brought his attention back to Sasarai just in time, as the wizard stopped at the edge of the magma pit. "Not in the slightest. We all dream of peaceful days, of the end of war. But why this way? Controlling the world with power is akin to threatening death to those who don't follow you, and how is that any better?"

Sasarai pursed his lips, seemed to look through the Corone emissary. "It just is. Nobody needs to die as long as my rule is accepted. Ending war is only the beginning; one day all cities will be as wealthy as Radasanth, as beautiful as Eluriand, as industrious as Ettermire. Without my leadership, this could never be. All will benefit!"

Wary that he might anger the wizard, Williams took a moment to carefully choose his words, pushing his thick glasses up on the bridge of his nose. "The people would lose their individuality. Mixing our cultures to make us all the same, it's almost as inhumane as death would be."

An amused expression crossed Sasarai's face. "You don't understand now, but you'll see in time. I am beyond certain that my way is right, and you'll thank me in the end."

He waved his hand, summoning another green portal behind Williams. Gold around the portal vibrated in response to the magic.

"The tax will be five thousand gold pieces a month, the same for all the regions of Althanas. It is relatively cheap when you consider it. Tell your supervisors my price, and that their first payment is due in three weeks' time."

Williams nodded, bowed, and said nothing. He passed through the portal back home, a handful of assorted coins hidden carefully from Sasarai's line of sight.

[Izvilvin]

The sound of the arrow's impact echoed against the Keep's west wall. Izvilvin lowered his bow and examined his own shot, saw that his arrow had pierced the bullseye precisely where he'd wanted it to, and notched another one at the leader's command. Alongside him, a dozen female guards did the same and prepared to fire.

He hadn't been using the weapon for very long, but it had come as naturally to him as any melee weapon would. He was especially swift in drawing and preparing to fire new arrows, for the movement and aim required was suited to his nimble fingers. He fired another, but it missed the target entirely - he still couldn't aim as quickly as he would have liked.

With that, the captain called for a break and the line of archers dissolved, light conversation breaking out in small groups. Izvilvin sighed, looking up. The day was young and yet it was cooler than usual, the sun hiding behind clouds and casting a dull glow over the island of Irrakam. Sweat moistened his dark skin, pasted white hair to his forehead - but it was cool.

The days had seemed short ever since his return to Fallien, mere hours after Sasarai and Glimmerfang's visit to Jya's Keep. The entire region had fallen into a catatonic state as the people waited for the next step to be taken, to even be decided upon. The natural inclination was to rebel, but the Fallien population was scared, and rightfully so. Glimmerfang the dragon had been all but invulnerable when he had brought Sasarai in, spears and arrows bouncing harmlessly off of his golden scales. Even the weapons that managed to pierce his underbelly brought not even a wince from the creature.

Izvilvin still hadn't witnessed it, which might have explained his anxiousness to find and kill the wizard. Perhaps ignorance was his biggest strength at that time, but it wouldn't last.

He was still willing to practice with this new form of combat, but it was about time that he met up with the Jya, Mazoo and the others. It had only been a day since the dragon's appearance, but plans were already being formed to find a way to assassinate the wizard. Izvilvin knew he would be a necessary piece of the puzzle.

[Izvilvin]

In moments he was inside the Keep once more, feet treading the lush red carpet the lead up the stairs, then down the hall to the Jya's room. Golden embroidery framing the hallway, Izvilvin passed by two female guards and opened the heavy wooden doors to her room, joining a small congregation of Irrakam's most influential people. They greeted him with nods, smiles, whatever each individual deemed as appropriate - and then the Jya spoke.

"Mazoo leaves in only a few minutes," she said, soft eyes drifting toward the Keep's wizard, who stood in red parachute pants and an orange vest. "Have we decided upon anything concrete?"

Hushed voices all around. Mazoo was to be Fallien's ambassador, but the opportunity for him to gather information to be used against Sasarai was lingering heavily over his head. A short human who merely looked as if he had cherubic blood, Mazoo was uncharacteristically silent.

"So then he will do as Sasarai asked, merely go to the wizard as an information carrier, and come back with whatever information he can." She decided. "With some more knowledge, we'll have a better vision of our options."

Izvilvin could feel the dread in the room, thicker than the desert humidity ever was. He saw the captains of the guard, the most skilled women Fallien had, and the lack of power in their stance unnerved him. These were warriors who didn't falter during the siege, when hundreds died and the roads were painted with blood. If their confidence was gone now, it was caused by something dire.

"We should go too," Izvilvin said, his common thick with a distinct rural Alerian accent. "A small group. Mazoo can bring us there, and we can attack Sasarai."

The response was a series of low murmurs and shaking heads. Izvilvin was going to express his disappointment in Fallien's best, but the Jya's firm stare silenced him. "The risk of that would be too great, dear elf. If our force failed, Sasarai could rain destruction upon the cities as punishment. Besides, perhaps the wizard's demands are sensible, and we can com-"

"Sign over our lives?" Sneered Mazoo, who drew the shocked attention of everyone in attendance. "I refuse to accept that this is our future! The indomitable land we inhabit cannot be so easily handed over. He is a minor wizard, not our God!"

"All the same, Mazoo," said the Jya with a raised hand, "we will not risk so many lives on a hastily-assembled force. Our best plan is to slowly form a plan and move from there."

Mazoo responded after a brief moment, visibly irritated. "Understood, my Jya. I will prepare for my departure now, and will return with as much information as possible."

The human gave a shallow bow and headed for the door, making brief eye contact with Izvilvin as he went. When the wooden portal was shut once again, the feeling of dread in the room had doubled. Izvilvin couldn't fight the feeling that the longer they waited, the more Sasarai got settled, and the harder it would be for the wizard to be dethroned. The Jya and everyone else within the room shared that feeling, but everyone understood the wisdom of the Jya's words. For the time being, Fallien had little option.

[Alvakar]

Ettermire was in a state of recuperation two days after Sasarai's assault on the city. On the back of his immense dragon the wizard had opened a portal to the Great Nether, beckoning forth dozens of fearsome demons to attack the dark elves.

Hours of struggle eventually left the city safe once more, but the damage had been done. Entire buildings had been broken down or burned to ash, at least a hundred and fifty casualties were recorded, and the spirit of the elves was low. Production in the industrial sector of Ettermire was halted completely while the city rebuilt itself, recovering as quickly as possible before business could resume. It would not be 'business as usual' for some time.

Even now, as Alvakar looked in the distance, he could see rows of homes that were damaged. A roof's corner was missing, melted away by black flames of a dimension the elf could not comprehend. It was all so far out of his understanding: this summoning, the dragon, the wizard, the magic. He was just a simple soldier, a family man who walked these streets every day to keep an eye out for thieves and strife. Sasarai's otherworldly power had an impact on the drow that not even he was aware of, the promise that fearsome, enormous power existed in Althanas. Subtle as it was, this promise had taken a hold on his nerves.

"The reaction was too slow," said Bieksa, Alvakar's patrol partner and friend of three years. It was he who had helped Alvakar fight off a large, winged demon just two days ago, though Bieksa initially tried to convince his friend to hide with him in safety. "When the demons descended from the sky, from that crimson portal atop Valshath d'Isto, our defense was deplorable."

Alvakar nodded, shifted slightly so the shield on his back was more comfortable. "Our soldiers were sluggish and divided, many lives could have been spared."

The two walked along the main road of the residential district, wary eyes casting glances their way as they moved. It was quiet without the distant rumble of machinery, as if the city was made docile.

"This division we have," Bieksa began hesitantly, "it's what kept us from mounting a stronger defense. How long has it been since Ettermire has had a unified defensive strategy against an attack?"

"The Battle of Valinatal."

"Two years, then," Bieksa said, his voice taking on a more anxious pace. "If this wizard had appeared in the time of Vordutin, our unified military strength would have repelled the demons with ease. The drills back then, the intense repetition of code and conduct under those circumstances, that is what our land was known for. Nobody dared come to the land of the drow with such a purpose! Now, we've grown so disorganized that we-"

"You still speak for the Kyorl, Bieksa?" Hissed Alvakar, who kept himself composed enough that none of the nearby citizens heard him. "Their battle lust would have us training our sons already. You are truly foolish if you believe the Kyorl are interested in defense. They want blood, elvish blood, and would have us send our children to get it."

Bieksa stopped his walk, looked behind and around himself in utter disbelief. "You defend the singers, now?"

Alvakar stopped as well, faced his ally and carefully narrowed his eyes. "The Kyorl would send my son into Raiaeran territory to spill the blood of seasoned elves. They would call it training."

There was a moment's silence between them, before Bieksa looked to the sky, checking the sun. "We're about done our patrol for the day. I'll see you come morning, Alvakar."

They nodded to each other, and Bieksa began to walk away, his black eyes looking at the ground before him. Alvakar was wrong about the Kyorl, he knew, but arguing with that stubborn elf was pointless.

They would not see each other again for a long, long time.

[Alvakar]

Only a short time later, Alvakar was with Laziv, having met the young adolescent outside of his school for some valuable time. He'd brought the boy his hook blades, and had him strap them on his hips for their patrol. In the wake of the attack, Alvakar felt it necessary to make sure his son was stable and secure in their city, able to defend himself.

As they walked along the residential road, homes on either side of them, pedestrians flanking them, Alvakar made occasional glances at his boy, wondering when he'd gotten as tall as he had. Laziv had grown without him noticing, so focused had the warrior been on his work, on defending the city. The realization struck him, made him think he had been working too hard for the last few years. Laziv was almost as tall as he was, now.

"What did you do in school today?" he asked suddenly, and the question spawned a wry grin on Laziv's face.

"You never ask that," he responded curiously. "We studied architecture, pretty much, basically why the palace is so appreciated, our ancient methods of art in architecture, blah. I had a spar with Zak, though, and totally outclassed him."

Alvakar's expression didn't change, but inside he had concerns about Laziv's focus. "It is an inspiring sight, the palace. It reminds me of why I protect this city as feverishly as I do."

The drow rarely spoke this way, if ever, and Laziv attributed it to concern. It was a kind of weakness that Alvakar, who was constantly sure of himself and his decisions, seemed to overcome at all times. The youth decided to keep his thoughts to himself on the matter, a showing of maturity on his part. Now was not the time to pester.

Their lack of communication over the next half hour was not uncommon for the pair, as Alvakar's relationship with his son was grounded in silence. He was a disciplinarian more than a friend, thought it best to provide boundaries and sense over comfort.

"What did you and your mother do when those demons attacked?" he asked after some time. By now, they were near a central hub of the city, near Rilya's bakery and a host of other shops.

"She forced me to hide out in the cellar with her, though I wanted to go with you and help. I thought I c-"

"What would you have done if one of them came down there?"

"We'd have fought."

Alvakar didn't like the answer, didn't like that situations such as that could arise. He didn't voice his concern, since he approved of the response -- what else would they have done? In moments they came upon a collapsed building, a massive black form atop it, splayed out with a pool of black blood around the perimeter. There was a cleanup crew there, but the mission was a tough one because of the sheer weight of the dead beast.

Grey, billowing smoke wafted up from the creature, from the blood, from the entire scene. They were beginning to cut it into pieces for easier removal, but had to use industrial-sized titanium saws, hence why the demon had yet to be removed.

If that was our home, Alvakar thought to himself, images flashing into his head. Ettermire's shaky defense was becoming more and more of a concern to him as the hours poured by, enough so that speaking with his commander at the Old Alerian outpost seemed like a wise choice. A sidelong glance at Laziv only motivated him more.

Tomorrow, then.

[Izvilvin]

Mazoo was somewhat experienced in extradimensional travel, and as such did not find the swirling green vortex disorienting as he passed through. He willed himself toward a bright white light at the end of a sense-bending tunnel, and eventually stepped out of the portal and back into the desert, the heavy humidity smacking him hard.

While Sasarai's vortex spell had brought Mazoo through a dimension of loud, swirling wind, Nirrakal was silent save for a light breeze that washed that sands of shards of glass. The mage looked beyond rows of glass statues to the dragon-shaped cave, saw a figure near it that stood patiently among the orange glow.

Sasarai was smiling as Mazoo approached, dodging tiny shards of glass with small hops and swerves. "Fear not, good wizard, I've cleared away the dangerous bits. I can't have my followers getting injured on their way to palaver with me."

The wizard took great pride in the word. Followers. Mazoo had worked alongside Sasarai when he was pretending to be the Jya's aide, fetching spell components and doing other menial tasks while Sasarai did the valued work. Mazoo always suspected the greater spellcaster of having ulterior motives, but few took him seriously. It was delicious irony for them to meet once more under these circumstances; Sasarai did not regret demanding that Mazoo be Fallien's ambassador to him.

"I suppose not," Mazoo responded in as jovial a tone he could manifest.

Together they entered the maw of the cave, going through the same ritual that Sasarai led Ambassador Williams through. "Irrakam fares well, I hope. The Jya seemed healthy when I saw her, a great thing."

Mazoo saw the words as prodding. Sasarai had fooled them all, taken advantage of the hospitality offered to him in order to create this situation. Now he was rubbing it in the mage's chubby face.

"All is well on the island," muttered Mazoo. "Can we get down to business? These walls offer no comfort, and I tire of them."

"We are not yet at my designated discussion area, my stubby friend," Sasarai chuckled. "I'll not have you ruin your initial visit with impatience."

Seething, Mazoo silenced himself until they walked into Glimmerfang's cave, golden light reflecting from the mountains of coins. A cleared walkway brought them to the center of the chamber, a massive clearing that Mazoo didn't get the point of.

"Impressive, isn't it? This is generations worth of dedication to my pet."

"What do you want with me?" asked the mage impatiently, causing Sasarai to turn and cast his steely blue stare at him. "We meet for business but you derive pleasure from your mountains of gold. I have other things to do with my day aside from meeting with you once more, things I would gladly do with a fire under my feet, if it meant a moment less I'd have to stare at your face."

"Oh, Mazoo," came the pained response from the wizard. "I only deceived you so I could become the new shining light of this world. Althanas has been at war with itself for decades, it needed a new ruler to provide guidance. Don't take it so personally that I d-"

"Spare me your righteous vile! Tell me what you called me here for, so I can leave."

Sasarai's patience was wearing thin, and it showed. From beneath messy blue bangs, the wizard stared at the shorter spellcaster. "Very well. The tax will be five thousand gold pieces a month, paid to me personally by you."

"Five thousand!? For what, you gouging swine?"

"For your lives, twit," sneered the wizard. "Your life, the life of your precious Jya, the lives of all your friends and people. Do not challenge me, I have had enough of your pestering for one day."

Waving a hand, Sasarai spawned a green vortex behind the mage, beckoned him to go through it, and turned to leave. Feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders, the wind of the vortex pulling his curly hair back, and that he'd never have a better opportunity, Mazoo summoned his will and spawned a spear of ice from the air that he let fly.

[Izvilvin]

With the force of a speeding wagon against the side of a barn, the projectile smashed into Sasarai's back and promptly exploded into harmless dust.

Mazoo was frustration personified, spawning another, identical weapon as Sasarai whirled around, fire burning in his eyes. This spear was met head-on, as it smashed harmlessly into the wizard and broke apart. The cherubic mage, normally a fairly squirrelly fellow, didn't back down or try to rush into the vortex portal. Better to die here than to let Sasarai rule the rest of his life.

"You would condemn your land to death?" mocked the wizard.

"I won't need to worry about that if you're dead."

Sasarai rolled his eyes, waved a hand to close the vortex and bring silence to the cave once more. "You've always been a lesser user of the arts, Mazoo, so much so that your spells have no effect against me. What makes you think you have a chance to kill me here, in my domain, with no help from your Jya?"

"Simple," said Mazoo coolly, "you have no idea of what I'm capable of."

Quickly weaving a complex pattern with his hands, Mazoo summoned up an intense wind of searing heat, melting the nearby golden coins as he thrust his hands forward. A raging, burning air shot forth, washing over Sasarai who fell back with his hands over his face. The wizard's aqua blue cloak withstood the blast, magically defending against the heat, as one of Sasarai's rings protected his flesh from harm.

Throwing his cloak about to dispel the flames, Sasarai reached into a hidden pocket in the lining to produce a lock of hair. Chanting a quick incantation and throwing it forward, the lock became a series of huge hair strands, reaching for Mazoo. The mage responded with a quick incantation of his own, spawning another fiery wind to consume the attack.

They both began casting once more, Sasarai clutching three small pieces of bone he'd produced. As one they finished, the bones dissipating as three undead skeletons appeared from a black mist between them. Mazoo's spell covered him in a black aura that eliminated his features, making him like a specter with empty white eyes.

The skeletons charged Mazoo as Sasarai began another spell, taking advantage of the preoccupied mage's inability to weave a spell under the pressure. Mazoo, however, took advantage of his new form by leaning forward and blowing out a breath that spawned a black fire, consuming the skeletons easily.

While doing so, though, Sasarai cast his spell. From behind Mazoo, a slab of stone from the ground rose and fell down on top of him, crushing the mage's diaphragm and everything below before disappearing, also bringing Mazoo back to his regular form. The man's cry of pain caused Sasarai to cringe.

"I should sink your entire island, you fool," hissed the wizard. He bent down to grab Mazoo by the hair, dragging him across the rocky ground, causing the mage to scream in pain. "But there's just too much to gain from leaving it there."

Stopping at the end of the chamber, Sasarai pulled Mazoo's head over the ledge of the drop to the magma pool. "Say hello to your friends Laix and Palmer."

With a stomp on the mage's broken legs for good measure, Sasarai dumped Mazoo over the ledge, not waiting for the satisfying plop before he started to make his way back toward the hall. Looking over the many rings on each of his hands, he decided it was time to send the Jya a message about her choice in followers, and a warning alongside it.

[Izvilvin]

Izvilvin had only been in his chambers for a few minutes when the Jya's pained cry rang in his sensitive ears. Pulled from his contemplation, he rushed out of his room and down the marble hallway, bursting into the Jya’s bedroom a few seconds before a score of guards followed. He could see that she had been sobbing, but composed herself almost immediately.

She looked weaker then than ever before. Even during the siege by the harpies and sun clan, she had always kept the steely, strong façade that reflected strength upon her followers. As those very followers pooled into her chambers, that strength slowly returned, though they could see the remorse in her eyes.

“Mazoo is dead.”

The news was sobering. Mazoo had no warm relationships with anybody since the death of his closest friends, but his dedication to the country was unmatched. Fallien had lost a distinctive piece of itself, and the entire room felt the weight of the loss.

“Sasarai communicated with me just now,” she said to widened eyes. “He said that the next time a Fallien ambassador attacks him, he would not have mercy. I… can’t help but think we haven’t taken him seriously enough. This is more than Fallien can handle. There will be no plans to attack Sasarai’s Eastern base in the near future. I’m afraid that for the good of everyone, we have to temporarily lie back, and move only when we have allies to aid us.”

“Kneel,” sneered one of the female guards, frustration and hatred etched into her sand-stung face. “It is the way of cowards, but I will do only as you command, mistress.”

Izvilvin watched on, somewhat detached, somewhat enraged that he was being ordered to sit back. It was like a slap, especially so considering his history with the murderous sorcerer.

His thoughts were interrupted, along with the thoughts of the others in the room, by a high-pitched chime. The Jya shook off her grief and approached an orb in the center of the room suspended there by a thin strand of mithril that descended from the ceiling. A wave of her hand brought the face of Emien Harthworth, Corone’s Master General, into view. The look on his grizzled face was grave, concerned, perplexed.

“I greet you, Emien.”

“Our spy has returned, but he brings little information,” Emien responded with staunch brevity. “He has a vague idea of the cave’s location in Nirrakal based on the patterns of the mountain ranges, believing it to lie at the southern tip of the mountains. It seems that the wizard has no followers to speak of, save for his dragon, but our man didn’t catch a glimpse of the creature.”

“Then now is our chance!” Interjected the drow, who clutched at the hilts of his swords with such ferocity, his ebony knuckles turned white. The Jya shook her head.

“What’s more is he returned with a few coins the likes of which I’ve never seen. Just a moment.”

Emien’s face left the jade orb, replaced by the Corone emissary’s. He revealed three golden coins, each with designs not attributed to any of the modern civilizations of Althanas. “Any idea what any of these are?” asked the general from somewhere beyond.

A moment passed before one of the Keep’s maidens spoke, though she did with a quiver in her voice that revealed her doubt. “The middle one looks much like the coin of Ghadashi Pota, an independent county in Western Salvar, but it hasn’t existed for a few generations, as far as I know.”

The Jya, typically knowledgeable in things of the nature, couldn’t confirm or deny the claim. “How in the world do you know that, Freya?”

‘Freya’, a look of unease on her face, shrugged. “I just know it, somehow. I probably read it a long time ago when I was visiting Ankhas. The strange thing is, that coin hasn’t been seen in at least two hundred years.”

“This cave had within it a cavern filled with mountains of gold that rivaled your dunes,” mentioned ‘ambassador Williams’, as he’d called himself. “There must have been thousands of these very coins, I merely grabbed one as a sample.”

Emien returned to the picture, eyes steeled. “This horde of treasure our man spoke of, it just isn’t possible to amass in a single lifetime, even for a dragon. This thing must have survived for thousands upon thousands of years before it reemerged. I can hardly wrap my head around all of this.”

“It’s a situation we all need to come to terms with for now, general,” said the Jya. “Fallien will take a passive stance for the time being, as we gather more information and try to figure out a way to deal with this threat. Thank you for your update.”

With that, the orb faded back into its typical jade structure, and the room was silent.

“It’s getting late,” the Jya said after some time. “Get what rest you can, we awaken tomorrow with as much energy as possible. This is a battle unlike any we’ve ever fought, and it won’t be won with hard steel or burning magic.”

[Izvilvin]

Izvilvin couldn’t see the Jya’s perspective. He’d never been a leader. If he wasn’t spending his time following orders, the drow was acting on his own in a way that he believed was right. As the sunlight creeping into his chamber window slowly dimmed, he looked upon his weapon belt, strewn out against his bed, wondering just what he thought was right.

A decade of assassinations, theft and stealth had hammered a sense of independence into the drow, a feeling of belief in his ability. The longer the Jya waited to act, the more people would suffer at the hands of Sasarai, who Izvilvin believed wanted to rule with an iron fist. Despite a lack of evidence, the drow couldn’t shake away the memory of a single moment in time, when Sasarai had just killed Laix by draining the life directly from him. No person with that kind of capability could be anything but a murderer. If left to his own devices, so many more would suffer a similar fate.

And yet, he realized with a deep sigh, if he failed to do what he now considered doing, Izvilvin would bring ruin upon Irrakam. Sasarai wouldn’t tolerate two attempts on his life so close to one another. It was something the drow thought on for no more than a few minutes, before he strapped on his belt and casually, quietly made his way outside.

With the sun disappearing slowly over the horizon, Izvilvin examined the greatsword of his old friend, Palmer, who was killed by Sasarai. Embedded in the dirt behind the Keep, only a few meters from the water, the sword remained a testament to the wizard’s cruelty. It only emboldened the drow, who drew Icicle to rest against the greatsword’s hilt. Icicle had belonged to Laix, Palmer’s best friend of many years.

“Your time has come,” he whispered to the wind. He would head East to Nirrakal, and start his search in the mountains beyond. His midnight horse, a creature he’d owned since his first month in Step, would carry him only that far.

[Alvakar]

The morning was dark, foreboding.

Alvakar woke after Rilya for the first time in years. He could smell the welcoming warmth of fresh buns, but his body was stiff. It took profound effort to sit up and whirl his legs over the side of the bed, where he sat for a moment before lifting his eyes to the window.

Either the sun was rising late or it was shadowed by heavy clouds. A grand effort had him standing, and a greater one had him downstairs for breakfast. His presence wasn't acknowledged until Rilya emerged from the kitchen, placing a small platter of fresh bread in front of him. She looked every bit the image of beauty, but Alvakar looked at her with defeated eyes.

"You've never looked at me that way before," she said cautiously. "Not in our many years."

He nodded, tried to restore his vitality by sheer force of will, but ended up shrugging instead. "The city bleeds. Everywhere I look I see the disheveled remains of Ettermire, not my home. It's been torn from my grasp."

She sat, but her eyes remained transfixed on him as if she were in some trance. It was eerily silent. Rilya's thoughts seemed loud in her head. "The city is your passion. This is the time when we need you most - if not Ettermire as a whole, then Laziv and myself. Your strength, love, is not enough to save everyone and everything. All you can do is your best, which is more than anyone will ever need from you."

"Mm?" Alvakar raised an eyebrow.

Rilya nodded and took a bun from the pan. "Laziv should be down soon. Make sure he gets to school on time." She rubbed his head, kissed it and left.

Alvakar reached out and took one for himself, taking in the scent before he dared bite it. He wondered if Rilya, who was surrounded by the smell every day, even enjoyed the taste of fresh baked bread anymore.

The telltale sound of stirring upstairs knocked him from his contemplation.

[Alvakar]

Alvakar walked the streets of Ettermire with more weight on his shoulders than he'd ever felt before. A doomcloud promising rain was approaching from the east, a blanket of darkness that kept the already dimly lit city moody.

The city was being steadily repaired around him, but the people maintained their melancholy way of moving. Only the children showed true signs of life as they ran through the streets, already having forgotten the scary noises outside of their windows only a few nights ago.

On his back was the Old Alerian shield, bouncing proudly with the emblem of Alerar emblazoned on its surface. Every morning for years, he had donned it proudly - now it was just a lump of steel against his spine. Something had changed in the drow, a realization that struck him like a train. He'd been wrong to support a single division of the army for so long. What Ettermire needed was unified defense, a single commander, a collective purpose and mantra.

Time passed and he was at the edge of the city, mid-noon with the ominous sky quivering, struggling to maintain each drop. He was in front of the Old Alerian outpost, a bunker of grey stone and a rugged oak door bearing the scars of old wars. Long blue drapes decorated with the Old Alerian emblem hung against either side of the door, and below them, two heavily-armored drow.

"Alvakar Kalizva, senior soldier rank six. I've need to speak with the commander," he said, his voice carrying the strong husk of a man forged with fire.

"Time is fleeting in the wake of the demon attack," responded one of the guards. "Do not take much of it. Commander Vadam has little to spare."

Vadam's outpost was as unimpressive within as it was without, a mere chamber as long as the street was wide, decorated with suits of armor, an amber desk and all manner of war memorabilia and awards. Alvakar approached the desk with stoic determination, stopping a few paces from it as he watched Vadam write feverishly. A moment passed as the drow tried to follow the writing, but it was in a language he didn't recognize.

"Yes?" Vadam finally asked, his writing not slowing. He had the raspy voice of an elderly elf, but was only a century older than Alvakar. He'd merely sustained a throat illness at an early age that he'd never fully recovered from.

"Commander, I am Alvakar Kalizva," he paused, unsure of how to proceed. Vadam continued to write as if he wasn't listening at all. "I've served the old army for all my days, sticking to the old rules and codes. I believe them truly, as much as I know how, but this recent attack exposed a weakness in our city that cannot be ignored."

"Mm," murmured the busy commander. "You propose a solution, soldier?"

Alvakar struggled, bothered by his commander's lack of interest in the conversation. All the same, he went on. "Re-unification of the army. A united defense against future threats, a united purpose and an end to this civil war."

Vadam finally stopped writing, looked up steadily. His face was leathery, creased with a mix of wrinkles and scars, with high cheekbones and shiny soil skin. His eyes were sunken and black, but his chin was strong despite the lack of meat on his face. "A pipe dream. As long as we both live, Alerar will not have a single unified army. The Kyorl live for war and the fight against the singing elves, not in the interest of defense. A lovely thought, but an impossible feat to accomplish."

"Not if we all remain silent!" responded Alvakar, somewhat vitalized by the positive response. "The Old Alerian army may be the first to step up and show a desire to reunite the armies. Now, as this wizard looms over us, is the perfect time."

"The others would take the sign of weakness and exploit us, through politics and word of mouth. We'd lose support from our city and look weaker still." Vadam sighed, revealed reading glasses from within a shirt pocket. Why he'd ignored them while he wrote, but produced them to get a better look at Alvakar, was anyone's guess. "It would be seen as a desperate attempt to end the strife, and we'd be tested. At this time, we can't pass a test from an army like the Kyorl, especially if they thought they could destroy us with one powerful swoop."

"Then what? Our options are a desperate few. Another attack will destroy our city and families, generations of legacy would be erased. Unless Alerar returns to the way it once was, the gaps in our barrier are easily exploited. Think now of what the Raiaeran singers will think, when they get word of how much impact those demons had. If they come seeking war, Ettermire will easily fall."

Vadam let it run through his head. He'd realized it himself, of course, but hearing it from the mouth of an elf whose name he'd already forgotten made a different kind of impact on him. "We've little chance of such unity. For years to come, the loyal would remain loyal to their cause. The city will take generations to come together once more, regardless. What are your daily duties, soldier?"

"City patrol, sir." Alvakar's passion seemed to explode from his eyes as he obliviously squeezed his hands into fists.

"I'd like you come by as a communicator-of-sorts to me. Patrol will still be your main duty, we simply have nobody to take your place there, but I'd like you to report to me on every second day, midday. I want you to tell me what you see and hear. As for now, I'll give it some thought."

Alvakar nodded, but still felt heavy. It wasn't enough. As Vadam looked back to his writing, however, the drow knew his time was over.