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*****

Chapter Seventy Seven

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"You stay the hell away from my family!" Revaramek snarled and unsheathed his claws as protective instincts raged inside him. "I won't let you-"

Asterbury put a hand on Revaramek's chin, a gentle touch that somehow snapped his jaws shut with unstoppable power. "I said save them. I assure you, if I was here to kill them-"

Revaramek lashed out for Asterbury's throat, only for his paw to come to a dead stop alongside the urd'thin's head. He flexed his claws in the air, but no matter how struggled he could not get any closer. The dragon opened his jaws to blast fire, only to find himself unable to exhale, his lungs frozen. Asterbury perked an ear, and as soon as Revaramek felt the smothering force ease from around his foreleg, he pulled it back. Just as quickly, he shifted his weight onto it, and struck with his other forepaw for the urd'thin's knees. Once again it was as if he slammed his paw into a stone wall. It stopped in an instant, inches from Asterbury's leg. This time Asterbury sighed, shook his head, and then stomped Revaramek's forepaw into the mud. At the same time, Asterbury tapped Revaramek's chin again, clapping his muzzle shut and stifling his cry.

"Keep quiet, won't you? Mustn't wake momma and baby. That's important." The urd'thin made a chittering noise of disapproval, tilting his head. One big gray furred ear splayed back. "Now, I shall take the blame for your little outburst, my word choice was terrible. So while I have your attention, let me make two things clear. Firstly, I am not here to harm your family." Asterbury's voice twisted into a snarl as he ground the dragon's paw into the mud. "Secondly, you will not, you _cannot_beat me in any kind of physical confrontation."

"You say that like I haven't pulverized you before. Or nearly taken your head off."

Asterbury only leaned forward, smiling. "And you say that like you think it would have been enough."

"Only one way to find out." Through grit teeth, Revaramek snarled. "If not vengeance, then what do you really want?"

"First thing's first." Asterbury stepped back, waggling a finger at the dragon. "Before we go on, I need to know. Are you quite through trying to harm me? If you require a more significant demonstration, you're welcome to try and kill me, work out some of your anger issues. But if you think it went poorly last time...well maybe this time, I'll just pull you apart like wet clay and mold you back together as something new for a while."

Unseen forces curled around Revaramek's limbs, wrenching them away from his body. Revaramek hissed and struggled, but it was a futile effort that left his legs aching from the exertion. The invisible powers hefted him off the ground, pulling his limbs, wings, and tail in different directions. All the while, black water rose into twisting tendrils behind Asterbury, like dark, glistening eels. They twined around the urd'thin, brushing him, but left no trace of moisture. One of them stretched towards Revaramek's head, then curled like a snake readying to strike.

"Or I could drown you, if you prefer." Asterbury fiddled with one of the silver buckles of his purple tailcoat. "The swamp likes that idea. Mind you, I'll save you in the end, but...it won't be very pleasant."

"Alright!" Revaramek pulled his head back from the rippling black tentacle. "I won't try anything!"

"That's all I needed to hear. I'll take you at word then, because I am, after all, a gentleman." Asterbury folded an arm across his belly, and bent forward, giving the dragon a deep bow. He straightened up, sharp teeth glinting beneath his twisted grin. "Do remember, though. Break your word, and I'll be quite cross with you."

The powers holding the dragon released him, and he flopped back onto his belly. The impact jarred his ribs, forced the breath from his lungs in a painful cough. Grimacing, and fighting the urge to grasp for air, Revaramek forced himself back up to his paws. "What the hell's wrong with..." He trailed off when he saw the gleeful gleam in Asterbury's eyes. No sense giving him the satisfaction. "Just tell me what you want with me, with my family."

"Aww, I was so looking forward to answering that particular question again. No matter." He gestured towards the cave opening. "All I want to do is help you save them."

"From what?"

An infuriating, knowing smile spread over the urd'thin's muzzle. "We'll get to that soon enough. Right now, the important thing for you to keep in mind is that I don't want to hurt them. Now that you've a son, I don't really want to kill you, either." He bounced on the balls of his feet, tail twitching. "You may or may not remember, but I've got experience with fathers and sons being torn apart. That's not something I'm keen to inflict on my old pal."

"We were never pals." Revaramek flexed his limbs, testing them. "Why don't you just get to the damn point?"

"Revaramek, old buddy..." Asterbury spread his hands, beaming. "Have I ever got straight to the point?" The swamp-water eels around him shook and waggled, as if in laughter.

The dragon growled, shaking himself. He tightened his wings against his body, his belly an anxious knot. "If you're just gonna dance around everything, at least tell me where Aylaryl is." He tilted his head back, staring at the churning gray clouds. He half-expected to glimpse purple scales flitting through the ashen ceiling, waiting for Asterbury to clap twice. "And don't try and tell me she was killed by the swamp. I know you'd never let anything bad happen to her."

"Right you are!" Asterbury snapped his fingers. "She's safe and sound. I dropped her off at our destination. Well, one of them."

"So why isn't she here? She planning to ambush me again?"

"No, if there's any battles left to be had, it's just between you and me. Or me and someone I hate more than you." He clapped his hands together. "Which reminds me, I don't really hate you that much anymore. As for Aylaryl, she doesn't need to go where we're going first."

Revaramek cocked his head, wondering. Who did Asterbury hate _more_than Revaramek? When the answer came to him, he gasped, heart pumping ice. His stomach twisted, and it was all he could do to croak out the words. "You found one."

"One what, old pal?" The smugness in Asterbury's voice was terrifying confirmation.

That was why he was here. Why he'd spared his life, all those years ago. Revaramek took a deep breath, and let it out slow, trying to calm the frantic pace of his heart. "The answer is no."

"What are you on about?" The mock confusion, the mischievous flick of the urd'thin's ears, it all told Revaramek he was right.

He didn't want to play Asterbury's game. "You found a gate, right? I won't open it."

Asterbury scrunched up his muzzle. "That's an odd thing to say. Why, you make it sound as if you're convinced I'm some sort of villain." The rippling tentacles of black water turned towards Asterbury, then the dragon, as if glancing about in confusion.

"I'm not playing, Asterbury. Do whatever you want to me, but I won't open it. And I know there's enough of Vakaal left in you to keep you from hurting my family or using them against me. Even if I die, they'll live, and you'll still be stuck here. And Vakaal won't let you take it out on them."

"And what lives they'll live!" Asterbuy waved his hand at the infinite swamp. "A few dozen years slowly starving to death, being rotted from the inside by poison. If your mate is lucky, she'll live just long enough to see him start to grow, and then...ACCKK!" He tilted his head, miming a noose. "And dear little Korakos there, why maybe he'll just die out there in the swamp, trying to find clean water. Or maybe there is another dragon out there for him to find, make a life with, and live just long enough so his own child gets to watch him die slowly from the poison mire you stranded us both in." He clapped his hands again, cackling. "Why, that sounds wonderful! Who wouldn't want to live out that life? A shame you won't let us out of here, I could sell this place as a vacation wonderland!"

Just as Revaramek was about to snarl a whole variety of foul insults at the cackling lunatic, something clicked in his head. Something insidious. "You...you...filthy little son of a bitch! You knew!"

"Never knew my mother." Asterbury shrugged. "So I can't say if that's actually an insult or not."

"You knew I'd-"

"Well I didn't once call myself all-knowing for nothing." Asterbury put a hand to his chest, smiling.

"You didn't know I'd strand you here."

Asterbury's left ear twitched. "Maybe I did, maybe I didn't. That was well played, I'll admit. But what are you suddenly so worked up about now? My, but this world stresses you out."

"You know perfectly well what I'm talking about."

"I can take a swing at it, if I were to put myself in your place." Asterbury tapped a finger against the end of the dragon's nose. "Boop." He stepped back and steepled his fingers, dull claw tips touching. "Let's see. You think I'm the villain, so you must think I had some sort of clever, long term plan. Hmmm... Well, I suppose you can assume I knew that even if I found another gate, you'd never open it for me. You'd already proven willing to die to keep me trapped here. But beyond that I...why, surely you don't think I spared your life in hopes that someday I'd have some kind of leverage to use against you. I mean, it's almost as if you think I've just been waiting for you to find a mate and make a child you love dearly just so I could threaten them to get you to open the gate for me!" He clucked his tongue and clicked his teeth. "My, Revaramek, that's cold, even for you."

"Then tell me it's not true."

"It's not true!"

The way Asterbury smiled only made him angrier. "I don't believe you."

The urd'thin shook his head. "You're impossible today. You must be tired. Maybe you're the one who should have been put down for a nap."

Revaramek lifted a paw, rubbing around the base of a broken horn. "So? Have you found a gate?"

Asterbury shrugged. "Oh, ages ago." All the water tendrils bobbed their heads. "What, you didn't think there was only one, did you? Think how important this world must have seemed to the storytellers. I bet they built dozens here. Granted, most of them are gone, and the one I found, I had to dredge up out of the swamp. Question." Asterbury wagged a single finger in the air. "If I was to say, threaten your hatchling's life, would you open the gate then?"

"No." Revaramek lifted his head, flaring out his spines, his neck arched. "No."

"Oh?" Asterbury splayed his ears back, glancing around the dragon towards the cave. "I think little Korakos is going to be disappointed to hear that."

Revaramek unfurled his wings, blocking off the urd'thin's view of the cave. "You won't hurt him. It might be about the only thing you won't do, but Vakaal won't let you hurt a child."

Asterbury's voice dropped into a threatening whisper, his fangs bared. All the swamp-water eels coiled into threat displays. "You seem awfully sure to be betting your son's life on it."

"Why don't you just drop all the bluffing and posturing?" Revaramek tilted his head, bronze eyes narrowed. His tail tip twitched across the muddy ground. "I know how much you like your games, but...I think you and I are past that point."

"As you wish, Hero." Asterbury gave him another bow, royal purple tailcoat rustling. The black-water eels slunk back into the swamp. When the urd'thin straightened up, his smile was gone, and his dark eyes roiled with fire. "No, you're right, I wouldn't kill your kid. I won't hurt him, or your mate. But the swamp will. So that'll be your big choice. You can open the gate, and watch me go free, and then you can take your family somewhere safe, and clean. Or you can keep me trapped here, and watch them die a slow, poisoned death. Make your son watch his parents slowly fade away. Like I said." He stretched out his hands, his expression blank. "I came here to help you save your family."

Everything inside Revaramek collapsed into a cold, empty pit, leaving him utterly hollow. He'd sacrificed everything to trap that monster here, to keep the marsh and all the other worlds safe from him. But in the process he'd found something even more important. He'd long ago accepted that his life here with Nyramyn would only last as long as the poison allowed it. In the years he spent with her, he'd known more joy than he had in decades spent alone in the marsh. Revaramek had even accepted that his son would not get to live as long a life here as he would in other worlds. But they were going to make sure every second he lived was joyful. Now, though...Revaramek had a chance to save them, to let them live full lives. To bring his son somewhere safe and pure, where he could swim and play and live long and healthy...

And all it would take was to let the monster loose.

"I...I..." Revaramek worked his jaws a few times, struggling even to come to terms with the idea.

"It's different when it's someone else, isn't it? When it's not your life you're worried about, but your son's? Your mother knew how that-"

"She didn't have to worry about you."

"No, she didn't." Asterbury turned to stare out across the bubbling, black water. "But she also didn't have the benefit of knowledge, and alliances. You know, Revaramek." Asterbury glanced back at him over his shoulder. "There are things in that marsh that can help neutralize, expel and counteract lingering poisons. The marsh is a very, very special place. More so than you realize. More so than even I realize, I suspect."

"I can't let you back there."

"Oh, but that's the thing, see." Asterbury nudged a bit of moss with the toe of his boot. "I don't need the marsh, anymore. I've got something better in mind. So, you let me go where I want to go, and I let you go where _you_want to go. The marsh, I assume. Where, with the help your mother never got, you can cleanse your mate and son of the poisons that would otherwise take their lives, and instead of slowly dying, they grow healthy and strong. It's a win-win, you see."

Revaramek dropped onto his haunches, pressing his paw pads to his eyes. His whole body shook, a crushing weight pressed against him. Breathing was difficult. "Where...where would you go?"

Asterbury regarded his claw tips, shrugging. "To make happy Vakaal's story come true."

"Then what?"

"Then Aylaryl and I make a little life for ourselves somewhere."

Revaramek took a trembling breath, setting his forepaws back down. "And the catch?"

"Oh, there's a hundred of them. But we've got a few things to talk about, first. Interested? You've got nothing to lose from a little chit-chat with your old pal Asterbury, after all. You can still say no."

"Thought I already did."

Asterbury gave a knowing laugh. "Ah, but you've got to give the idea time to sink in. You've got to start thinking about it. Thinking about how, ten years from now, when Nyramyn's on her last legs, and you're watching her die? When you're holding your sobbing son, knowing that same slow death is his fate, too...Will you regret not taking my offer? Will you look back at the day I gave you a chance to save their lives, and wish you'd taken it? If they ever find out, will they wish you'd shown them a way out of this terrible place?" A sneer crept into his voice. "Vakaal would be awfully disappointed if you let his gift go to waste. Why, I'd never hear the end of it from him."

Revaramek died a little more inside with every word that dripped from the urd'thin's tongue. Asterbury was right, knowing his mate and child's lives were at stake changed everything. Already, his heart was screaming at him to do anything Asterbury wanted if it meant his family would be saved. At the same time, he didn't miss what else Asterbury said.

"What was that last part?" Revaramek lifted his gaze, gazing down at the urd'thin through narrowed eyes. "About Vakaal."

"Oh, you wanna hear about Vakaal, do you?"

"You said his gift...It rained!" Revaramek scrunched his muzzle. He rubbed his head, near his broken horn, trying to put the memories back together. "When I woke up, I was...healed. It was raining. It...it continued to rain. Clean rain. For days. It kept me alive, till I heard her laughter. And...before that, I...I dreamt of him. Of Vakaal. Was that rain his doing?"

Asterbury gave a long, sorrowful sigh. "Do you know what Vakaal means? The word itself, I mean. It's a combination of things, of two words that meant hope, and story. His father named him that because...well, you don't need me to tell you why." Asterbury stared down at the backs of his hands. He rubbed his arm, ruffling the gray fur. "Short answer? Yes. I was going to kill you, and Vakaal...I guess you could say he talked me out of it. But if you want to talk about Vakaal, you're going to have to let me tell you about saving your family, too."

"Fine." Revaramek swallowed hard, gazing back at the cavern entrance. "But not here."

"No, I agree. If mommy-dearest sees me talking with you, it'll throw the whole thing out of whack. I've a better place in mind to talk about Vakaal." Asterbury clapped his hands, grinning. "So off we go! Take a deep breath."

Oh, Gods. That didn't sound good.

Asterbury swiped his hand in the air, and existence spun into a dizzying blur all around him. Everything inside Revaramek twisted and lurched, as if he was falling, hurtling through the air, and ascending faster than he'd ever imagined possible, all in the same instant. The whole world was like a globe, spinning for Asterbury. Black water, half dead trees and crumbling ruins all flashed by, one glimpse of reality melting into the next. His stomach flopped and churned. Then all at once everything was still again, and they stood atop a battered stone platform.

Before Revaramek had time to process anything else, he heaved his guts out over the edge of the platform.

"You know, Aylaryl had the same reaction the first time I traveled with her that way." Asterbury folded his arms, chuckling. "Guess you dragons just aren't meant to move that fast."

Revaramek retched again. And again. And again, till at last his belly was empty. "What the hell...did you just...do?"

"I just sent us halfway around the world, that's all. I wouldn't worry too much about it."

Revaramek lifted his head, wiping his muzzle with the back of a paw. "Guess you've been practicing."

"Oh, you don't know the half of it, old pal. It's been a long time since I've been this in control." Asterbury turned and crossed the platform. "This way."

Once he caught his breath, Revaramek gazed around. The platform they stood atop was a tower, jutting up from a dark ocean. But where the water in the swamp was black, the water here had a strange, purple hue to it. No trees stood out, no hills or rises, just an endless stretch of choppy, purple-black water. At the base of the tower, red-green algae clung to the stone bricks where they protruded from the surface. A faint, golden watermark circled the tower, hints of old sediment stirred by the waves. Other ruins dotted the ocean around them, the only evidence left of a city lost beneath the poisoned tide.

The sound of lapping water and crashing waves was everywhere. It rose and fell, rolled and cascaded in all directions at once. The smell of the water put him ill at ease. He knew, from the stories, that oceans should smell of salt. But this one smelled of sand and of bitter poison as much as it smelled of water. Hints of rot permeated the air.

The dragon cocked his head back, staring up at the sky. The clouds were different, too. Darker, but at the same time, less angry. Rather than churn, they drifted. They threatened poisoned rain, but none fell. Here and there, Revaramek even saw the sky. Pale and blue. He glimpsed the sun through a hole in the clouds, and for a moment he could have sworn it looked fractured. He swallowed hard, tearing his eyes away. He wasn't sure he wanted to see what else lay beyond those clouds. When he looked again at the ruins, all bore golden watermarks, hints of sand washed up against the stone.

"This is your desert, isn't it?"

"Was my desert." Asterbury gestured at the water below. "I'm not sure what it is, now. I can't tell if it's growing, or drying up. Or if it's all just...draining south, into the swamp."

In the far distance, something immense and green breached the surface, sending up a faintly purple plume. The color and movement drew the dragon's attention, but by the time gazed towards the horizon, there was only a streamlined head, and bright yellow eyes peering back at him, just above the waves.

"What the hell is that?"

"The new natives." Asterbury shrugged. "One of your people's descendants, maybe? I'm not entirely sure what happened after everything went..." He flicked his ears back. "Crazy. Suffice it to say that...some creatures adapted faster than others, depending on how my...our...powers touched them. Anyway, come along, may as well go indoors to chat."

Asterbury walked to the edge of the tower, tailcoat rippling around him. In a breath, a myriad collection of broken chunks of stone shot up out of the water, assembling themselves into a bridge. The walkway built itself just ahead of Asterbury, insuring that no matter how fast he walked, his boots would always set upon secure rock. Revaramek flicked his ears back, his unsettled belly twisting again. That didn't look safe. The wet stones looked slick, and covered in slime. He unsheathed his claws for traction as he followed the urd'thin. Just as he was about to ask where this bridge to nowhere was going, the water boiled and churned.

The stone carcasses littering the water moved and shifted. Some of them rose from the depths, revealing themselves as sections of an entire citadel. Like puzzle pieces, they put themselves back together, building a fortress from a shattered ruin. Not all of them seemed to fit quite right. Some pieces looked different than others. Some walls bore scars their neighbors did not. Others were a different kind of stone, or had strange sigils carved into them. It was as if Asterbury was reassembling a fortress not from one ruin, but from many. Purple water ran down slime-crusted walls, and gushed out of holes and broken windows.

Jekk's voice drifted through Revaramek's mind, a memory stirred from a long time ago.

The sky shattered like glass. The building he was in, it dissembled itself, then built back up again, different somehow. A storm of red and gold grew and swirled around it, vaporizing things. Blasting apart stone like crumbling sand. When it was all over, he was gone, the building was a ruin, and the broken sky poured black rain.

"I know where we are." Revaramek's paws went cold. "This is..."

"This is where they dragged Vakaal and his father." Asterbury swept his hand over the stitched-together fortress, a monstrous collection of towers and walls, crystal domes, walkways and shattered skylights. "This is where I broke the world."

Revaramek stared at it for a little while, but Asterbury's words left his ears perked. "You don't even know who you are anymore, do you?"

"The more I think about, the more confused I get." Asterbury ran his hands back over his ears, sighing. "I broke the world, and when I tried to fix it, I think I broke something else..." He waggled his fingers alongside his head. "Up here. I...I solved their riddle, that day, but I can't quite remember what the answer truly meant, anymore. It's as though the answer damaged me, somehow. I think mostly I'm Vakaal, but sometimes I think I'm Father. I have..._all_their memories, they're all part of me now." He turned back towards the dragon, confusion etched across his furry face. "I think...I think I told you, years back, that...they weren't all rattling around up there."

"That's not true, is it?"

"I thought it was true at the time, but...I'm not so sure, now. It's...Vakaal, he...who he was, who I was...It's like he's crystalized, the only part of me that...can't change. Sometimes I hear his voice. He...he sings to me. It's like he locked himself up inside my brain, just to make sure I'd never go completely rotten." Asterbury sighed, and then smiled again, turning around. "Come on, let's go inside."

Revaramek swallowed, following the urd'thin. The walkway continued to build itself before them, stretching towards a yawning chasm where an entry way once stood. "I'm not sure I want to."

"No, you're right, it's going to be a mess in there. Lemme fix that." Asterbury thrust his hands out before himself, then glanced at the dragon. "Might want to look away."

No sooner had Revaramek turned his head then a great gust of howling wind burst from Asterbury's hands. The wind screamed so loud it hurt the dragon's ears. It whistled and shrieked through the patchwork castle, blasting back out through every opening, a chorus of furious voices. Where the wind led, brilliant light followed. A fire burst erupted all along the wind's path, and beams of eye-searing light cascaded through every open door and broken window. Even at a distance, the light's heat singed his wings and frills.

It all faded as quickly as it began. "There." Asterbury dusted off his hands. "Now it's dry inside, at least."

"Why the hell are we here?" Revaramek only felt even more unsettled than when they'd arrived.

Asterbury only laughed as he followed the walkway to the entrance. Behind them, the stones fell back into the purple sea, splashing down one by one. "Because you wanted to talk about Vakaal. And what better place to talk about him, than the place where he came so close to fixing everything, before it all went so terribly wrong. Before the others...I suppose they died, in a way. And they all led to..." He waved at himself with a trembling hand. "This."

Revaramek cocked his head. "I can't tell if you mean that literally, or metaphorically."

"Maybe it's both!" Asterbury spun around before the entrance, hints of pain and anger alike glinting alongside fiery madness in his inky eyes. He held out one hand. "Someone lives." He raised the other. "Someone dies." He spread his arms, and pivoted atop the platform, casting his voice across the purple-black ocean. "They both live, they both die, they're always torn apart, and Vakaal..." He came to a stop, voice dropping, ears drooping. "Me..._my_Vakaal...he always tries to fix it. The spiral turns again. Anyway, shall we go on?"

Revaramek grimaced, flattening back his ears. The cold dread coiled inside him still left his paws half-numb. Wherever this was leading, he wished they'd just get there already. "I don't suppose I can just...sacrifice myself and kill us both to end this, can I?"

"You still seem to think death stops me..." Asterbury shrugged, swishing his tail. "You know, I think in another story, you try just that. It doesn't work out well for you. Come along." He walked through a grand archway that led into the main building, then paused to rest his hand against corroded stone. "Didn't this used to be on the ground floor?" He glanced at the dragon. "Not that you'd know, but I don't think I put this back together right." He leaned over the edge, peering at the dark water sloshing against the walls. Most of the stone was discolored by decades beneath the surface. "Suppose it doesn't matter."

"I am struggling to resist the urge to push you in." Revaramek lashed his tail, hissing.

Asterbury gave him a bright smile over his shoulder. "How very kind of you."

"It's only because I know it wouldn't work, and I'd end up being in the one swimming in poison."

"Seems to me, you and Nyramyn do a lot of swimming in poison." Asterbury straightened back up, and walked into the citadel. "You know, that can't be good for your long-term health."

Revaramek bristled, spines flared. He wasn't surprised the little monster knew so much about his family, but that didn't make it sit any easier with him. "I'm starting to remember why I never liked you very much."

"Oh, bollocks." Asterbury was at his side in an instant, standing on his tip toes to try and punch the dragon on the shoulder. "We were best friends, and you know it. Think of all those good, funny times we had together! You tried to burn me, I hurled you through a bell tower, and we all had a good laugh at the end."

The dragon turned his head to hiss his retort, but Asterbury was already gone. He looked around and found the urd'thin striding across the room, far ahead of him. "How'd you do that?"

Asterbury replied without looking back. "Is that really a question you need to ask?"

Revaramek grit his teeth, damning Asterbury in his head. Was it too much to ask for him to just die out there in the swamp? He gazed around the room they were in. It looked as if it was once some kind of grand meeting hall, but without any furniture it was hard to tell. The whole place stank of scorched algae and bitter, poisoned water. It had a very high, curved ceiling, and a raised dais at one end that might have once held a great table. An immense stone arch spanned the curved ceiling, with words cut into it. Though Revaramek did not recognize the language, he could tell they were the same words carved above the gate, back in the marsh.

Who tells the Storyteller's story?

Stone columns lined the room in twin rows. Something about them looked off. Revaramek padded closer to one of the columns. Vines with heart-shaped leaves were carved crawling up the limestone length. The dragon walked to the other side of the expansive room, his footsteps echoing around the barren space. Though heavily discolored by the water, the columns there looked to be cut from granite. They were also wreathed in stone vines, but rather than leaves, these bore thorns and flowers.

"They're different." Revaramek returned to the center of the room, looking back and forth a few times.

"Yes, they are." Asterbury twisted around to face the dragon, a knowing smile on his muzzle. "Now why do you suppose-"

"Just shut up." Revaramek snapped his jaws, lashing his tail against the floor. "Your mind games give me a headache."

"Awww, that wounds, dragon." Asterbury clutched his chest, then put the back of his hand against his head, feigning a swoon. "I spent months preparing these tricks and mind games, and now you're just tossing them all aside. It's like you don't even care about me at all!"

Revaramek ignored him. He unsheathed his claws, and scratched away some of the golden-hued sediment and gritty crust that coated the flat, square stones composing the floor. Beneath it some of the tiles were limestone, others granite. Again, Jekk's voice tumbled through his head, a frightened memory from a man trying to make sense of what he saw as a child.

The building he was in, it dissembled itself, then built back up again, different somehow.

Revaramek's stomach dropped away, pooling in his hind paws. Oh Gods. "You...you didn't just...break the world..."

"No." Asterbury's voice softened, and stared down at his boots. "No, I didn't. I...I broke all the worlds." He worked his jaws, his ears drooping. He lifted a hand, reaching for memories. "I didn't mean to. I was just...I wanted to help." The urd'thin sniffed, turning away. He walked to a wall, ran his hand over the layers of sand coating it. "I went to set my father free. And then...I did what should have been impossible, because I wanted to fix things. For him. We had nothing left, it was...all I could think to do, to try and make him happy again. And in that moment...I'd always had visions, but not like this. I saw...I saw all of us...stretched out, across the horizon, over and over. And we were all their prisoners. I thought...I thought I could balance it! I thought if I could set one free, I could set us all free! We could all be happy..."

Asterbury's hand balled up into a fist. Blue sparks fluttered around him, scorching little black spots into the stone. "So I...I re-wrote every story, all at once...and the world couldn't take it. None of the worlds could take it. They all..." He folded his fingers together, then wrenched them apart. "Fractured. Into...every possible variation, and...so...so I tried to put them back together. I tried to fix them! But everything was scrambled, and the pieces never fit. There's..." Pain cracked his voice. He wiped his eyes, then grasped his big ears and squeezed them. "There's always too many fractures. The only way to fix it was...was to put them all together..."

Fear and horror were a heavy weight upon Revaramek's heart's. His legs wobbled and he flopped back onto his haunches. He knew Asterbury was unimaginably powerful, but to do something like that? To every version of his story, all at once? That was unfathomable. It was as if...No. Gods, no. He didn't even want to think about it. And yet...the myriad ruins in the swamp, the strange creatures, mountains beneath an black ocean... Again, Jekk's voice whispered in the back of his mind, a concept that was chilling back then, and terrifying now.

The father, I...I think he knew what he was. What they were. We had an ember of The Storyteller's power, but those two? They had his full flame.

"You...merged them." Revaramek gaped, struggled just to take a breath. "You...you're...him."

"Maybe." Asterbury twisted his ears back and forth, then gave a shuddering sigh. "I don't...really know what I am. I think I knew, once, and I think that knowledge damaged something inside me. So, I hid the memories away to try and...protect myself, I suppose." He lifted his hand towards the wall, and a window appeared in the stone, gazing out over the choppy, purple-black sea. "When the book showed me where you were from, when Jekk told me what happened here. That...that we did this, Father and I, Vakaal and his father. The memories started to...to free themselves. Whatever in me that held them back, it's...breaking apart, like everything else. The longer I'm here, the more I start to remember the truth. And the more I remember I was just...some scared little pup, trying to make it all better. And then..."

Asterbury swallowed, and set a trembling hand on the stone, his voice shaking. "Then it wasn't just the worlds that merged. It was me. Us. I was _all_of them. All their fury, all their grief, their loneliness and pain and anguish and sorrow like you'll never know! It was all...part of me. The terrible feelings, and all that power they unleash...all their memories, scrambled inside me. Just because...just because the pup wants to fix what's broken. Just because the pup wants to do what's right. He...he just...wanted to make his father happy again. I just..." He sniffed, whimpered, and dropped to his knees, fighting back a sob. His voice changed, younger now, lost and alone. "He was...so lonely. So lonely. I just wanted to build him a family out of sand, so he wouldn't be alone..."

A family out of sand?

Once, Asterbury told Revaramek that Vakaal was life. Only now was Revaramek starting to truly understand what that meant. A thousand emotions whirled and fought inside of him. Pity and sorrow and grief on behalf of that lonely pup, fury on behalf of all the people Asterbury had hurt, and terror over what this meant. He wasn't even sure who was talking, anymore. Asterbury might be some amalgamation of all of them, given life of his own, but somewhere inside that tangled knot of crazy was Vakaal.

On trembling paws, Revaramek approached Asterbury. The urd'thin hunched over upon his knees, arms wrapped around his middle. His shoulders shook, and sobs he could scarcely quell rocked his body. Till then, Revaramek had never imagined Asterbury could look so frail, so fragile. He was like a scared, lonely little pup, hugging himself while he cried because there no one else there to hold him.

Revaramek extended a shaking foreleg, and curled it around Asterbury's shoulders. The urd'thin leaned into it, then jolted upright, his ears up and eyes wide. He bared his fangs in a snarl of surprise, as if for a moment he'd thought it was Aylaryl hugging him. Revaramek hugged the urd'thin anyway. When Asterbury went limp against him, the dragon rubbed his back.

For long, quiet moments, Revaramek cradled him while he cried.

When the urd'thin's sobs had eased, he glanced up at the dragon. He wiped away a tear from his dark eyes, and a hint of a smile crossed his muzzle. "Told you we were old pals."

"For the record, I was only hugging Vakaal." Revaramek snorted and eased his forelegs back.

"I'll be sure to let him know." Asterbury swallowed hard, wiping his eyes again. He leaned back onto his hands, staring up at the dragon. "Your ability to surprise me continues to prove a thorn in my ass."

Revaramek curled his tail. "That's not the expression."

"But wouldn't it be far more irritating to have a thorn in your ass, than in your side?" Asterbury waved a single hand. "You couldn't even sit down!" He glanced away, splaying his ears. "Thank you, though." He flicked his bushy tail, then cradled it in his lap.

"It's what heroes do." Revaramek arched his neck. "Besides, I couldn't just let Vakaal sit there and cry with no one to comfort him."

Asterbury smirked, tilting his head. "He'll appreciate knowing that."

"I get the feeling he hears me when I talk." He lifted a paw, brushed his pads across the fur between Asterbury's ears. "He's still in there, isn't he?"

"More than I care to admit, I think." Asterbury pulled his legs up towards his chest, hooking his arms around. He laid his muzzle on his knees. "Perhaps even more than I realized."

"You look like him, right now." Revaramek tilted his head, gazing down at the urd'thin. "More a lost, confused pup than a confident demi-god." He flattened his ears, grimacing. "You're...not just...a demi-god, are you?"

Asterbury only shrugged, flicking an ear back without lifting his head. "Thought I was, for a while. But the more I remember, the more...the more I wish I could forget again. Right now I_feel_ more like that lost, confused pup. You know..." Asterbury swallowed, shrugging. "I wandered alone, confused, and scared for...so many years, I honestly struggle to remember who I am. Who I was before...before Asterbury. There are times I remember Vakaal beside me. Holding me, comforting me. Other times it's Father alongside me. Maybe I just...remember it all, from every point of view..." He wiped his eyes with the back of a hand, then set his muzzle on his knees again. "I think at heart, I was Vakaal, first. And...that innocent, kind-hearted version of him, he's...crystallized, in a way...inside my head. I used to dream of him. Or maybe he was dreaming me, and I was just his nightmare."

"If you're his nightmare...maybe it's time you let him wake up."

A smile twitched at Asterbury's muzzle. "Sometimes I wish I could."

The urd'thin waved his hand, and walls of the room broke apart around them, as though Asterbury was dissembling the same puzzle he'd just put together. Some of them fell back into the poisoned ocean. Other walls took their place as a circular chamber built itself all around them. At one end was a vestibule with corroded shackles clinging to the stone. A broken skylight let in gloomy light. At the opposite end, a familiar arch and set of black and silver rings lay broken upon the floor, a lifeless gate. A few hints of crystal still clung to the dome above them. All around the large, rounded chamber bits of rotten wood pieced themselves into something resembling shattered bookshelves.

"This..." Asterbury peered around the place. "This design isn't right, but...I have memories of these places." He swept a hand around the room. "They had a library. More books than I'd ever seen. There was this...horrible man, in a golden robe. He used to make me read all the books. When I think about him, the memories are blurred, and I can never remember who he was. Can't even remember his name. But he wanted me to learn all about the other worlds and what befell them. They wanted Vakaal to know what they expected him to save them from. Made him...me...write my own stories, too. So, I learned all about stories and tropes and archetypes and all that other nonsense. Their leader taught me we were all ink on a page, waiting to be re-written." A smirk crossed his muzzle. "But he didn't know it was my ink."

Revaramek turned his head, looking around. His gaze fell on the shackles, rusted and ready to crumble. "I can probably guess what the rest of this stuff was."

Asterbury tilted his head towards the shackles. "I left the shackles there, the day I decided I couldn't let them hurt him anymore. I just opened them. But that wasn't what scared..." He trailed off, muzzle scrunched and ears flattened in thought. "I just can't remember his name. Doesn't deserve to be remembered, anyway. What scared him was when I took off my shadowstone collar and shattered it. It wasn't supposed to be possible. That was when he got scared." He smiled to himself, then glanced at the broken gate. "The storm I shaped must have ruined that." His shoulders sagged. "Wonder how long they lasted, after I was gone. If Jekk saw it happen, and survived it, my storm must have been fairly localized here, in the citadel. Unless...Unless he wasn't my Jekk."

The dragon tilted his head, confusion roiling in his mind. "What do you mean?"

"I can't be certain anymore that the Jekk you know is the boy _I_knew. He recognized me, and I knew his name, but..." Asterbury licked his nose, waving a hand. "They always think I died that day. Lately I wonder if I'm just the version who lived. Or the only one to break the cycle. I think I've crossed so many worlds and so many timelines, that the old man and I could be from different...well, it doesn't matter, in the end. They had a whole city built up around this place. If Father lived, and thought I was dead, who knows what he might have done. Suppose that doesn't matter, either. One way or another, it always turns out the same."

"So it does, Vakaal."

Asterbury cringed, flattening back his ears. "Please don't call me that. It's not fair to him."

A trickle of icy sorrow ran through Revaramek's heart. "As you wish."

"You know, it's sad. We used to tell these stories." Asterbury ran a hand over his muzzle. "Parables, really. All about our powers, and our first chief, and on and on. They were meant to teach us why we shouldn't abuse our powers, and why we had to learn to let go. I think Father started it, without ever understanding why. That his stories were teaching us about a loop, a cycle, meant to rejuvenate the world, after everything ended. That we were meant to...keep life going, no matter what befell it. I used to think the storytellers broke our cycle, but sometimes I wonder if we broke it. Twisted it into something else. Because we couldn't let go. We just...loved each other too much."

Asterbury settled his muzzle on his knees again. "All Vakaal had to do was let go. He'd have lost his father, but his people would be safe, and none of this..." He waved at the building around them and the purple ocean beyond. "And none of...this." He sneered, tugging on his golden vest. "Would have ever happened. But he'd never let his father go. He was too young to understand the lessons his father tried to teach him. And when he couldn't let go, neither could his father."

Revaramek stared at his paws, scratching at the stone floor with unsheathed claws. "I understand that feeling all too well now."

Asterbury looked up, smiling. "I know you do. That's why I waited. When I...when Vakaal...talked me into letting you live, I knew...if I waited long enough, someday you'd understand. That's why I brought you here. So you'd understand that all...this." He waved his hand again, and the walls crumbled away, block by corroded stone block, revealing the purple-black sea beyond. "Was all because a father and son loved each other too much to let go."

Something about that sent trickles of ice pouring down Revaramek's spine. He shuddered, spiky tail webbing rattling against the floor. "You're...you're going to ask me to do something unthinkable, aren't you?"

"All I'm going to ask you to do is save your family." Asterbury watched the walls tumble into the ocean. "Whether you do or not will be up to you."

"You say that like I don't have to let out you of this place as well."

"You won't have to worry about me, after this. Your marsh will be safe."

Revaramek tilted his head. He didn't like that Asterbury kept evading the topic of his plans, should he escape. The dragon thought perhaps it was time to try a new tactic. "Do you love Aylaryl?"

Asterbury's ears perked, and he straightened. "That is...not...something I want to talk about."

"So yes, then." Revaramek shrugged his wings.

"It had been..." Asterbury's ears drooped right back down. His tail twitched under his purple jacket. He took a deep breath, and let it out slow. "A long, long time, since I knew love, before Aylaryl. The last time I knew it was...." A wistful smile spread over his muzzle. "It was in the place I took this name from. I lived like an urd'thin again there, at least for a while. Her name was..." Asterbury splayed his ears, mouthing a few syllables to himself before he settled on one. "Airn, I think."

The dragon lowered his head, his voice soft. "Another urd'thin?"

"Mm." Asterbury shifted, resting his muzzle against his palm. "I have trouble remembering her. I don't know why. I'd like to think she became queen among her people." He furrowed his brow, ears flattened. "Unless she's gone. I...I don't know how long ago that was, anymore. Decades? A century? Everything's a muddled blur."

"She must have been special." Revaramek dragged a single claw across the ground. "The reason I brought Aylaryl up is because I hope whatever you're planning takes her into consideration, too. There's no revenge left for her, or for you. Let it all go, and just...make somewhere beautiful for the two of you."

Asterbury grit his teeth, and looked away.

"Can I ask you something else, as long as we're not trying to murder each other?"

"Doesn't seem like anything's stopped you so far."

"You talk a lot about your father." Revaramek curled his tail, picking at one of the spines with his claws. "What about your mother? I never had a chance to get very far in that book about you. She-"

"Died when I was born." Asterbury settled his muzzle on his knees, gazing at the waves rolling across the purple-black sea. "In another place, another part of the desert. Or another world, maybe."

"I'm sorry." Revaramek blinked. "But does that mean you weren't from...?"

"My memories are hazy, but...when we were held captive here, my father confessed that he could have saved her, but...he didn't want the tribe to know what we were. It haunted him ever since. And then...then they came for us, and...and he fled with me." He waggled a few fingers near his head. "I used to have these dreams, about wandering the desert with him. He was always lonely. Like I wasn't even there. I didn't want him to be alone, so I shaped him a family out of sand, and then I gave them life. And that family became our tribe. It was only ever a dream, but...when we were here, bound in this place, he...He told me..."

Asterbury snarled, flattening back his ears. "Everything's so broken in my head I can't even tell which memory is real, and which are but dreams and stories. Sometimes I feel like...I had the answers, once, and I...I took them away from myself. Like they're still up there but I...I just can't reach them anymore. But I think Father told me those dreams were real. I wonder if...if I even had a mother, or if I...." He lifted a hand, staring at the back of it. "What if it was only ever me? What if_I_ was the lonely one, and I shaped my father into being, just to ease that loneliness? And then he was lonely, so I made him a family...gave him a memory of a mate he lost, a son he loved..."

Deep inside Revaramek, pain squeezed his heart. Whatever monster Asterbury had become, there was a time he was nothing more than an innocent child. Or at least, something akin to it. He lifted his paw, and set it upon Asterbury's shoulder. "Whatever you were, whatever your father was? His love for you was real. You know, Jekk told me he thought your father planned to give himself up, so they wouldn't find you."

The urd'thin glanced up at the dragon, frightened ghosts drifted across the swirling ink of his black eyes. All at once, golden sand dunes spread throughout the room. Revaramek stiffened but did not withdraw his paw. Warm sun beat down upon Revaramek's wings. The desert breeze and the scent of sand drifted across his muzzle. A tall, tightly muscled urd'thin in hide breeches stood atop one of the dunes. His tracks left sand tumbling down. A pup half his size clambered up the dune, sometimes on all fours. When he reached the top, the father put an arm around his son's shoulders.

"Father knew who they were. What they wanted." Asterbury stretched an arm towards his father. "My memories are all scrambled but...the longer I've been here, the clearer some of them become. He fled with me here, because he knew what the storytellers wanted. I think he discovered something worse. That it just...kept happening. Like a loop. In the end, we'd...try to start things over, even...even if it ended everything. But it always turned out the same. As if the cycle had a purpose, once, but somehow it became corrupted." Asterbury fidgeted with the straps of his tail coat. "So, he tried to break the loop for us, tried to escape it, tried to move sideways, instead of just resetting things. But there were ruins there, too. Like wherever we went, it had happened before. A, B...just another part of the cycle. When the end came..."

Asterbury trailed off, tilting his head back to stare up. Above them, the sky tore apart. Blue lightning crackled and split the world asunder. Revaramek ducked his head, fighting his frightened instincts. He told himself it was only an illusion, and yet he felt the static charge of the lightning, heard the urd'thin screaming atop the dune. All the sand spiraled into the sky, consumed by the gaping chasm far above. The pup was torn from his father's arms, vanishing into the darkness. Then, just as swiftly, all the sand around them turned to pure, white snow, spanning in all directions. The pup hit the snowy ground, charred and burned, but whole again in an instant. The way the pup screamed for his father left Revaramek cringing.

"I wonder..." Asterbury closed his eyes, and the illusions were gone. Once more, they sat together atop a crumbling ruin in the middle of a purple-black ocean. "I wonder if part of him was happy that I'd finally shattered the story's shackle."

Revaramek took a deep breath. "You are an entire maelstrom of whirling crazy." Revaramek rumbled to himself. "I wouldn't even know where to begin with all that, but for whatever it's worth, I don't think you deserved the things that turned you into the monster you've become."

"Thank you." Asterbuy opened his eyes again. "I think...my father would have liked you."

And he'd have hated what you've turned into. Revamek kept that thought to himself. No sense spoiling the temporary good will they shared. "Do you dream of your father a lot?"

"Not anymore. I used to have this recurring dream, but it was about Vakaal." Asterbury murmured, and hugged his knees tighter to his chest. "And about me. We're together, out in our desert. Me, as I am now, and Vakaal, as he was back then. It's nighttime. Our world is gone. Our people are dead. Ruined. All that's left is the endless golden sand. Above us is the brightest ocean of stars I've ever imagined, all the great cosmos on display. And in the dream, every star is another story, and I can visit any one of them. I can follow the Storytellers everywhere they go, and set my wrath upon them. And just as I'm about to do it..." Asterbury's ears drooped, nearly obscuring his face. "Vakaal starts singing."

Revaramek blinked, and cocked his head. "Singing?"

"Vakaal likes to sing. He loves music. It's..." He waggled his fingers alongside his head. "Always been there. In my head. Vakaal likes to sing along, and dance. Especially when he thinks no one's watching. And now he...he sings to me, in my head." Asterbury glanced away, blinking back tears. "So...in the dream, I'm ready to unleash my revenge, and Vakaal starts to sing. I pause to listen, and he takes my hand, pulls me back towards him, and tells me to stay. To stay with him. Promises if I give up my anger, he'll make it all better. Tells me, he'll turn every unforgiving word, every horrible thing they ever did into another beautiful star. That if we just...step back from it, it'll all seem better. That...that pain is what reminds us we're alive, and that even the greatest sorrow can birth new joy, if we give it time."

Revaramek took a few slow, shuddering breaths. "Then what?"

"Then I roar at him. I roar at him, because it makes me angry. Because I know he's right. But I roar, and roar, and he wilts away. He's...he's just a pup, trying to help. He doesn't like being yelled at. And when he pulls away, again I turn to the stars. Ready to rend them apart, to shatter every world the storytellers ever built for themselves. But before I can go, he starts singing again. Louder now, more determined than ever to stop me. To pull me back."

Asterbury balled up a fist, and slammed it against the stone. The pitted surface dissolved into sand, drifting away on the breeze. His voice twisted into a snarl. "I get angrier, and I roar at him again. I roar and scream that we need vengeance, that we have nothing left, and all there is now is our war against the storytellers. That I will spread eternal war across their skies, and tear even their stars down from their nighttime canvas." Asterbury sighed, shaking his head. "And Vakaal just sings. Takes my hand, braver now. Tells me that if I tear out the stars, there will be only darkness, and if I lose myself in it, I can never find my way home. And I roar, because I know he's right, and because I know I'm going to do it anyway. So he sings, and I roar. My fury blots out the stars, his forgiveness brings them back, and in the end, I always drown him out. And then his song fades, and it's dark, and I'm alone, with the darkness, and the silence. And then I wake up."

"Gods, Asterbury." Revaramek wanted to bury his head under a wing. He swallowed a few times, then rubbed his muzzle with a paw. "I think if I had dreams like that I'd cry myself back to sleep."

"I usually did." Asterbury stretched his legs out, then curled his tail into his lap, idly brushing his fingers through the fur. "You know, I've only told two other people about that dream. I think when I finally took this name...I did something to myself I cannot recall. It's like there's a piece of my puzzle missing. But I think that's when all of Vakaal's stars went dark, and there was only..." He swallowed, closing his eyes. "Asterbury."

"How long...how long did you...?"

"No idea." The urd'thin grimaced, his eyes still shut. "A long, long time. I can't even remember if I spent more time wandering as Vakaal, trying to set things right...or longer as Asterbury, tearing down the stars. By the time I ended up in the marsh, I think...whatever was left of Vakaal in me was lost in that same darkness. Hiding, or asleep, maybe."

"How...how long were you there? Why didn't you go after Jekk right away?"

"I was tired." Asterbury flopped back against Revaramek, and the dragon did not pull away. The urd'thin waved a gray furred hand, purple sleeve rustling. "Enora and Aylaryl, they showed me...comfort. Friendship. Things I hadn't known in a long time. So, I gave it all up, for a while. To live in peace again. Got to know the va'chaak tribes." He blinked, glancing up at the dragon. "Earned their loyalty, by saving them from a plague decimating their people. I cured it, healed those who were sick, and then wiped the plague from existence. Strange..."

"What's strange?" Revaramek cocked his head, content just to let the urd'thin talk in hopes he might pick up something useful. Whatever Asterbury had planned, he wanted to be prepared.

Asterbury flattened his ears, muzzle scrunched in thought. "A memory, just now. At the edge of my consciousness. Almost as if it's...hiding. I think some of the va'chaak thought they recognized me from tales their elders used to tell about some savior. As though I'd saved them before, a long time ago. It seemed...so odd, back then. But my memories are so scrambled and unreliable, I must have just...discounted it. Even now, it's ephemeral. Fleeting."

"Maybe they're descended from slaves you freed, somewhere. Castoffs, who found their way to the marsh like the rest of us." Revaramek licked his muzzle.

"Suppose it's possible. Enora used to call the marsh a refuge, once I told her the truth about me."

The dragon nodded, then splayed out his frills. "So why _did_you decide to give up your peaceful life? Why go back to vengeance and-"

"To test you." The words came out so soft, so aimless it was as if Asterbury hadn't even realized he spoke them. Then he took a breath, and let it slow. "In the end, it was Aylaryl. Seeing my agony mirrored in her, knowing all her pain came from the storytellers, just like me..."

"You couldn't let it go." Revaramek tilted his head back, peering up at glimpses of broken sky beyond dark clouds. "Guess it runs in the family."

"So it does." Asterbury tilted his head, staring at the dragon. "You drew his attention, I think."

"Vakaal?"

"Yes." Asterbury nodded once. "I used to see him, now and then. Dancing around me, or sitting on a table, kicking his legs, singing to himself. Sometimes I talked to him, but...I could never be sure I wasn't just seeing things again. Whenever I went a long time without hearing his voice, or seeing him...I liked to imagine he was just sleeping peacefully. It must have been a very long time since he heard someone call to him. Though I told Alyaryl and the others about him, I asked them not to speak his name. Seemed cruel to wake him for no reason."

"Or you just didn't want him trying to light up the stars, again."

"That too." Asterbury stared out at the horizon.

Revaramek could almost see Vakaal dancing behind the urd'thin's dark eyes. "What about when I helped you save Aylaryl? I felt like I was talking to him."

"I suppose you were." Asterbury shifted his attention to his tail again, tugging on a few strands of fur. "I'd almost gotten to the point where I convinced myself I was only imagining seeing him, but I wasn't. It's like he..." He circled a few fingers around the base of a horn. "It's like he lives up here. Just...waiting for his chance to sing to me again. Waiting to offer me his hand, to pull me out of the darkness. And when you...spoke to him, directly. It changed something, somehow. Like he'd been sleepwalking for decades, and now he was wide awake. It was almost dangerous, at first. It was as if the first thing that surfaced was his long-forgotten terror. I didn't want to lose Aylaryl, I knew I could save her, but...I was so scared."

"The stronger your emotions get, the more you lose control of your power, right?"

Asterbury only nodded. "It was always doubt and fear that held Vakaal back. Until there was no reason left to doubt himself, and nothing left to frighten him. For me, emotions like terror and rage used to take control of my powers. They'd pour through me till I could not keep hold of them any longer. That same fear took control of me when Aylaryl was dying. I was ready to shatter that world just save her, when...If I'd just been calm, if I'd just...wished her to be whole again. When you spoke to Vakaal, it gave him strength, gave him a chance to...take over, so to speak. Together you saved Aylaryl, while I was...paralyzed, in a way. So afraid for her. It was as if waking Vakaal brought me back to..." He waved his hand at the world around them. "This terrible place, and my great failure."

The urd'thin took a deep breath, let it out in a long, shuddering sigh. "So instead of my fear running rampant, you and Vakaal saved her. Then you just kept calling his name. Even after our battle. And every time, he grew a little stronger. After I tried to drown you, and I found you on that mud pile, I went there expecting to end you. But you called his name again. You meant it to spite me, but when you spoke it, there he was."

Asterbury waved his hand, and an image of Vakaal stood before them, gray fur rippling in the wind. "Standing between you and me. It was just like in the dream. But this time, for all my anger, for all my roaring, he did not wilt or shrink away. He stood there, as if ready to take the punishment for you. He took my hand, and he told me, no more. No more. And...for the first time, I couldn't override him. My lightning was healing you before I even knew it, and then it was raining. I sat there for stunned, trying to figure what was happening. And _that_was when I knew you'd truly beaten me. You'd woken Vakaal, and he had taken your side."

Revaramek stared at him, incredulous. His jaw hung open. After a few moments of trying to come terms with that, he broke out into incredulous laughter. "That's what saved me? Calling his name? I was just trying to get the last word and piss you off!"

"I know." Asterbury folded his arms over his chest, clacking his teeth. "That's what made it so infuriating. Of course, as time passed, I started to think about what else that might mean for you, for the future. I roamed the world a while, found this place, built a few homes for Aylaryl and myself. Made sure she'd be well taken care of. And the longer I was here, the more peaceful I felt. The more the memories, and my greater powers filtered back to me. I am...so much stronger than I ever remembered. Now, your spark was nothing, no impediment to me having a peek at your life-ink. So I did. I saw you'd have a child someday. And I realized what that meant for you, that coming back here-"

"You really can't hurt him, can you!" Revaramek laughed again, clapping his forepaws. "Vakaal won't let you!"

Asterbury grunted, flicking his tail. "I told you that already! You told me that!" He gasped, flattening his ears and displaying his teeth. "Don't tell me you were bluffing!"

"You're the one babbling about reading my life-ink, you tell me." Revaramek snapped his teeth right back at the urd'thin. "I wasn't bluffing, I just...I didn't believe you would harm him. It's nice to know my belief was warranted."

"I still knew you'd want my help, someday." Asterbury's voice sharpened.

"It sounded to me like you wanted my help."

"Oh, I do. There's still...too many pieces missing. I haven't figured out yet why I can't force the gate to activate. It's like there's something blocked off, inside me. So I still need you to do it." The urd'thin pushed himself up to his feet, walking to the edge of what was now only a stone platform, jutting from the water. "But trust me when I say, you need my help, too."

"No, I don't, Asterbury." Revaramek shook his head, his heart tightening. "We have happy lives here, now. I've long accepted that we won't live as long as we would in the marsh, but we are just as happy. More so, even, and we'll teach our son the same. You know what they say about-"

"Yes, yes." Asterbury waved his hand. "Half as long, twice as bright. And I believe you, that you were perfectly with that option. Until today."

"I'm still happy with-"

"Until it popped into your head that maybe, just maybe, your little sonny boy's life could be twice as long and twice as bright." He snapped his fingers, grinning. "My, that sounds great, don'tcha think, old pal?"

Revaramek grit his teeth, holding back a snarl. An angry tingle lift his spines flared. "Why is it that whenever you and I seem to have a breakthrough, you start acting like an asshole? You were talking to me like a perfectly normal person and now you're back to acting like a cranky jester again."

Asterbury folded his arms. "I am not cranky."

"But you won't dispute the jester part?" Revaramek snorted and made a show of looking the urd'thin over. "Not that you could dispute it, when you're dressed like a pirate mated with a box of crayons."

"Ah hah!" Asterbury jabbed a finger in the air. "So you _do_know what crayons are!"

"I'll admit, it's still an improvement over what you used to wear."

"You didn't like my cloak and noble's clothes?" Asterbury put a hand to his chest, feigning indignation. "I'll have you know, I stole those off an actual noble!"

"No wonder they were so hideous. I'm surprised you didn't kill him for his lack of fashion sense."

"Oh, I definitely killed him, but that was for a lifetime of stepping on my people." He gave a low, threatening growl, then perked up again. "See?" He waved his hand back and forth between them. "Didn't you miss our banter?"

"Our banter?" Revaramek shook his head, hissing. "No. I was perfectly happy not thinking about you. Now Mirelle..." A thudding echo of heartache rippled through him, twisting up his guts. "Mirelle, I miss."

"But you don't have to." A smile crept over the urd'thin's muzzle, his ears perked. "You can see her again. Today, even. Why, all you have to do is-"

"No." Revaramek lifted his head, gazing down at the urd'thin. "I'm sorry, Asterbury. I'm sorry that I have to tell Vakaal that he's stuck here, but my answer must be no. After everything you've done, I can't risk letting you out. You have a life here with Aylaryl. I suspect you have far better food and far more comforts than we do. You should just spend your days with her, enjoying your time together."

Asterbury's smile grew in a way that sent shivers under Revaramek's scales. He remembered that look. It meant Asterbury was holding something back. Something terrifying. "Don't be so hasty. You haven't even heard my pitch, yet."

"It doesn't matter. Nyramyn and I are happy together. Even if our lives are short, we'd rather spend our time enjoying every moment. My son..." Revaramek whimpered as icy claws dragged across his heart. He wanted his son to live as long as any dragon could, but... "He will live the longest life this world will allow him, and he'll learn to savor every second of it."

"But that's just it, Hero." Asterbury turned away, his ears drooping, his tail sagging. "Your son never makes it to adulthood."

Hot anger and cold fear alike washed over Revaramek. He snatched Asterbury's arm in a paw, snarling. "That isn't funny, you little monster!" He tried to shake the urd'thin, but it was like trying to move a mountain. "How dare you even say that to me!"

"Revaramek." Asterbury's voice was flat. He reached over and pried the dragon's paw off him, then folded his arms. "If you've learned anything about me, you should know that's not the sort of thing I'd joke about. When I looked into your family's stories, they all end sooner than you expect. Just think about it. Remember, you were meant to die here ages ago. You told me yourself, long ago, that Mirelle would win because that story was a comedy, that it would end happily. You told me the story wants what it wants, and you're right. But your story, the one your mother saved you from? It was not a comedy. It was a tragedy."

The whole platform spun beneath Revaramek. He wobbled back and forth, legs unstable. The dragon dropped onto his haunches, unable to support himself anymore. "No. No. No, no, no..."

"Yes." Asterbury stared at him, a hint of sorrow drifting behind his inky eyes. His ears still drooped. "The story remembers you, Revaramek, and it knows your bloodline. So now, you all die here. That's the story you brought yourself back to, the story you brought your son into. Everyone dies. Unless, of course..." Asterbury shrugged, tilting his head. "Are you willing to hear me out now?"

Revaramek stared at his paws, stomach churning. He fought the urge to retch again. It took all the strength he could muster just to nod once.

"Good! But I'll warn you right now. Letting me out of here is just the start of it. There's something else you have to do to save your family." Asterbury smiled, and patted the dragon's cheek. "And you're not going to like it."

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