FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

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Chapter Seventy Eight

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"Alright." Asterbury cracked his knuckles, his oversized ears perked. "Time for my spin the globe trick. Brace yourself."

"Can't we just go there the normal way?" Revaramek groaned, unsure that his unsettled stomach could handle traveling that way again.

"That would take..." Asterbury shrugged, waggling a hand in the air. "Days? Weeks? I dunno, math and I don't get along well. The point is, we need to be there now, and it's a whole continent away." He dropped his hand, peering down at the choppy, purple-black ocean beneath the stone platform. "Well...former continent. Say goodbye to your long-lost relatives." When another large, streamlined green head surfaced to peer at them, Asterbury waved down at it. "Bye bye!"

Revaramek padded to the edge to look down at the creature. Curiosity shone in its golden eyes, but also wariness. "Is that...really what that thing is? Can they talk? Maybe we could-"

"Don't pester them. It's their world now." Asterbury turned back around, tilting his head. "If you're not going to brace yourself, I'm just going to do it."

Even before Revaramek could reply, Asterbury flicked his hand through the air, and everything spun into a churning blur. The toxic ocean stretched into a purple-black smear. Moment by moment it grew darker, until it was only black. Gray and brown blobs dotted it, rocks and trees flashing by an instant. Revaramek couldn't tell if Asterbury was moving the world, or simply moving them through it. Either way, the sense of impossible motion was horrifying. His whole body felt both pushed into itself and pulled apart, his bowels knotted, his stomach somehow in his throat and tail at the same time.

It came to a stop just as quickly as before, and with the same result. Revaramek stumbled a few paces across the mossy stone he found himself standing on, and retched with painful force. The dragon grimaced as his empty stomach tightened in wrenching pulses, leaving him gagging over and over. When he was finished, all he'd accomplished was to end up drooling. He groaned, wiping his muzzle with a paw.

"Please don't do that again."

"At least you were empty this time." Asterbury smiled, folding his arms.

"I think that made it worse."

"Aylaryl hates it, too." The urd'thin tilted his head back, peering up. "She should be around here, somewhere. Probably enjoying the sunlight."

"And where the hell is-sunlight?" As Revaramek's disorientation faded, he realized they were standing in the sun. He tilted his head back and saw not clouds, but clear blue sky, and pale, shining sun. "You parted the clouds?"

Asterbury only laughed. "Have a peek around, Hero."

Revaramek turned in place, gazing around them. The sight stole his breath. All around them, towering walls of cloud churned and spun in the distance, gray slopes from the water to the blue sky. Revaramek had never seen anything like it. The cloud walls rotated together, ever turning around a broken tower jutting from the water, in the area's heart. Wispy tendrils twisted across the water's dark surface, stretching towards the battered monolith.

"It's a maelstrom." Revaramek hissed, his spines flared. Old instincts he didn't understand made him shiver, told him he should not be here. If not for Asterbury, he would have flown far from this place and never looked back. A strange, unexplainable dread settled into his belly, cold and squirming. "We're in the eye of it."

"In the eye..." Asterbury spun in a circle, his purple tailcoat fluttering. He cast his hands wide. "Of the storm. All your world, all the great swamp is wreathed in the same weather system, and it all rotates around this place. That's why the clouds are always there, always churning. If you could fly high enough, you'd see it all spinning over what was once a great continent. And this place? This was at its heart. Everything that was unleashed by...by us..." He rested a hand across his chest. "It's all come to be centered here. Can you guess why?"

"I don't think I want too." Revaramek stared at the storm's eye-wall in the distance. The way it turned was mesmerizing. Bits of cloud fell away, crawled out in snaking lines, only to be sucked right back up into it. Other coils of mist stretched across the water and twisted around the broken tower. A memory clicked in his mind, and he glanced at the urd'thin. "I've seen something like this before. The day you attacked the village, with your storm."

"Right you are." Asterbury pressed his palms together. When he pulled them apart, a tiny storm cloud formed between them, spiraling into a miniature vortex. "Nature is inextricably linked to ancient forces, you see. Storms like this form spirals, a sort of twisting symmetry. The way the worlds are aligned also forms a spiral...The world knows what I am, even if I don't. When I make a storm, when I set myself as its eye, it follows the same rules it would in nature."

Revaramek scrunched his muzzle. He lifted a paw to rub at the base of a missing horn. "You make my head ache, you know. Did you create this place?"

"I don't think so." Asterbury blew on his hands, and the little storm cloud floated away into the swamp. Flashes of lightning flickered through it, and rain fell, splattering against the dark water. "But at this point, how can I truly be sure?"

Revaramek flopped back onto his haunches, sighing. He scratched at some moss with his claws. It looked as if Asterbury had deposited them onto the top of an old building, just barely lingering above the surface. "It would be nice if you'd make sense for just once in our relationship."

Asterbury whirled around, beaming. "We have a relationship?"

"Protagonist and antagonist, that's a sort of relationship, right?"

Asterbury folded his arms. "I dunno, Revaramek, you're sort of a hands-off type of antagonist. You may have try a little harder."

"This might be fun for you, but it isn't for me." Revaramek grit his teeth, dragging his claws against the stone. "The only reason I even agreed to come here is to save my son and mate, so why don't you-"

"If storms form a spiral around me, what does that tell you about _this_place?" Asterbury's voice sharpened, and his inky gaze pierced the dragon. Fire burned in his eyes.

Revaramek flattened his ears. As irritating as Asterbury's jokes and cheerfulness were, it put Revaramek far more ill-at-ease when the urd'thin got serious. "That there's someone, or something, like you here?" He shuddered as a chilling thought raked icy talons across his mind. "Please tell me this isn't where they buried your..." The dragon glanced away. It didn't seem right to say it, now. "You know."

"That's...not quite the guess I thought you'd make." Asterbury shivered, rubbing his arms. "Now you've got my fur all bristly. But no." He turned towards the tower, bushy tail swishing behind him. "Can you even bury such a thing? Physically I suppose, but not the existence, not the entity. That persists." He flattened his ears back, staring into the dark water. Revaramek could almost see memories of the desert drifting across Asterbury's inky eyes. "We didn't bury our lost, anyway. We made pyres, scattered the ashes to the sands." Asterbury sighed, his voice softening. "No, if he was here, I'd know it. He's been gone from this place for a long, long time."

"I'm sorry." Revaramek lifted a paw and set it on the urd'thin's back. "Part of me...wishes he was here, for you."

"I know." Asterbury sighed again, then folded his arms. "You're a softie, at heart. That's why you make such a good hero. Because deep in your heart, you care. You're like Vakaal, in a way. You want to do what's right, even when you don't realize it. For all the stories you heard about dragons growing up, for all the beasts you modeled yourself on, which side did you choose, when you started to emulate them?"

Revaramek eased his paw back. "What do you mean?"

The urd'thin turned around, smiling. "Even when you played at being their conqueror, you always called yourself their benevolent overlord. That says more about you than you realize. I think, if it came down to it, you'd have stood up to protect those people even without Mirelle and her truce, or the old promise you made. That's why the story chose you. She just made the first move, and that's why it chose her, too."

"I dunno." Revaramek flattened his frills, turning his gaze towards the damaged tower. He wasn't sure how much of that he wanted to think about. "Maybe I would have. Are you gonna tell me about this tower, or not?"

"So eager to change the subject? You know, this might be your last chance to have these enlightening conversations with me."

"And thank the gods for that."

Asterbury smiled, flourished his tailcoat, and gave a little bow. "You're welcome."

Revaramek snorted. "Just tell me about the maelstrom before I push you in."

"It's a place of old power." Asterbury straightened up, staring at the blue sky. "Very, very old. There was life born here, in what was once a great marsh, just as there was once life born in the desert. I think this is where life in the marsh began. There is a primal force here, a power older than the desert, older than the marsh. Maybe we forged it when we made this place...or maybe it forged us." His voice wandered, lost and adrift on the endless black water. "I think I understood, once. Then I wished I didn't. And so that knowledge was lost." Asterbury swallowed, and pointed up to the sky. "You can't see it, but above us, there's a tear in the great veil beyond the sky. The wall between worlds is crumbling. This place? This power? This is where existences brush together."

The very concept left Revaramek's spines bristled and his sharp-edged tail fins on full display. "Then I'm guessing this is where you found the gate. I remember Jekk said something about...their first gates being built at places where old forces still held sway."

"And they did." Asterbury traced lines in the air with his finger. "Long before they discovered us in the desert, they built a city here. Not sure if this is it, or one pulled from another world when I merged all my stories. But if not for the water, you could probably see the sigil walls."

"What are those?" Revaramek eased up alongside the urd'thin to stare into the water.

"They're walls lined with shadowstone, or similar elements. Some of the storytellers used build their cities around the sigils the walls formed. Remember the gate back in the marsh? It had sigil walls around it. Five, seven, nine."

"What does that mean?" The dragon licked his nose in thought. "Right before we left the marsh, weren't you and Jekk were talking about that?"

"It's a control sigil, from another world, with a different sort of..." He waved his hand in a circle. "Power, you could call it. Like what the storytellers' call the spark, and my full flame. With the right materials, these sigils were used to help guide that's world's primal forces, or to help keep them from..." He bared a few fangs, snarling. "Dissipating. The sigil concentrates that that ancient, elemental power. So, the people there once used immense sigils to keep towns safe and thriving. Or so went the storytellers' theory. Of course, reality proved a different beast. Anyway, with all the places the storytellers have been, they've picked up a lot of different techniques, a lot of theories. Some factions believe in them, others don't. But some of the gate-builders used such sigils to help channel the old powers to their gate."

Revaramek slowly tilted back his head, following an invisible line from the tower up into the sky. It was so strange to see the sky from the earth again that it almost felt like a dream. If only he could wake up, he thought. "So, shall I assume that was as dangerous as it sounds?"

"Of course! But they had to pierce the veil somehow." Asterbury only shrugged. "Don't worry. Firing it off another time or two probably won't shatter the sky completely."

"Nice to see you're still good at inspiring confidence." Revaramek tried to put that thought aside. It left the blood running cold in his wings. He stared down into the water. "This water looks different. Not as black, or sludgy."

"It's cleaner." Asterbury held his hand out, and water poured up into the air, like an inverse waterfall. It formed a dark, rippling sphere beneath his hand. He waggled his fingers and the sphere of water rolled up onto his palm. "Thanks, I believe, to the power of this place." He sniffed at it, and scrunched his muzzle. "Still wouldn't drink it, though."

Revaramek grimaced, tightening his wings against his sides. "So, is this where you and Aylaryl have been living?" He gazed around. Aside from the tower, there were a few other sizable ruins jutting up from the water that looked large enough to house a dragon. "Out in these ruins?"

"What? No." Asterbury scowled and tossed the sphere of water over his shoulder. It scattered in the air into a thousand tiny droplets, splashing against the surface. "No, this wasn't here when we first arrived. Well, it was but..." He pointed to the water. "Was down there. But this?" The urd'thin circled a finger at the sky. "This drew me here. The only part of the tower visible then was very top floor. I dredged the rest of it out of the water, and shored it up so it wouldn't need my power to keep from collapsing or sinking again. Brought up some of these other ruins at the same time."

"You pulled all this up out of the water?"

"Aside from what was already peeking out, yes. I was awfully curious, after all. Wanted to know just what they'd built here. So, I cleaned it up inside, and had a look around."

The dragon lashed his tail. "So where have you two been living?"

"Wouldn't you like to know." Asterbury laughed, then tilted his head towards the tower. "Meet me over there. There's a part of the wall that came down when I pulled it up. I stabilized it and left it there. Makes a good ramp for Aylaryl. See you inside, old pal!"

In a single, impossible leap, Asterbury crossed the swamp in an instant. A wave of concussive force rocked Revaramek back. In Asterbury's wake, the stone now bore a concave indentation, a strange scar left by whatever force he propelled himself with. Revaramek flattened back his ears, hissing. The urd'thin alighted atop the tower, and disappeared through a hole in the broken, crystalline dome capping it.

Revaramek jumped into the air, beating his wings. He ascended in a tight spiral, still in awe of the monstrous storm ringing the place. He wondered if such a constant maelstrom existed even back when the world was pure, before the storytellers ever found it. Given what Asterbury said, perhaps the powers he and his father unleashed had altered even the way the ancient forces affected the world.

The dragon banked towards the tower. Tendrils of fog dissipated beneath his wings, spreading across the water. More misty coils twisted in the distance. Others curled around the base of the tower, climbing it like gauzy vines. When Revaramek circled it, the wind billowing beneath him blew the snaking lines of cloud apart, but more soon replaced them. Once he spotted the stony ramp built from the broken wall, he spun around and aligned himself for a landing. Revaramek touched his hind paws down on the stone, relieved it did not shift beneath his weight.

The top half of the old stone wall rested against the tower, and as promised, made for a suitable walkway into an opening. The idea of crawling into a yawning chasm in a decrepit tower left his ears pinned back and his spines flattened. Trying to ignore a growing sense of gnawing fear, Revaramek ducked his head and climbed through the opening. Just inside, the ramp ended in a jagged line. He peered over the edge, and saw only water, with a few broken walls jutting from it. Above him was more mossy stone. At the far side of the chamber, a large staircase followed the curve of the outer wall.

Revaramek licked his muzzle. There was a time he'd have been ever so excited to get to explore the inside of an old tower big enough to fit a dragon. Now, though, the only thing he felt was a sickening chasm in his belly.

The dragon didn't want to jump down into the water without knowing how deep it was. If he plunged in over his head inside a ruin like this, he could get stuck beneath the surface. He took a breath, and spat a long gout of fire, using the glow to illuminate the water. Beneath the surface, a stone floor was barely visible. The water looked nearly chest deep. As cautiously as he could, he crawled over the end of the broken wall, and down into the water.

The water inside the tower was cooler than he expected, and left the dragon shivering. Compared to the tepid waters of the swamp, this was genuinely cold. Despite wanting to get out as quickly as possible, he took his time crossing the half-submerged room. He felt around with his paws before every step. There was no way to know how stable the floor was, or how many sharp edges might be hidden in the darkness.

Walls throughout the expansive, circular chamber suggested it used to be divided up into smaller rooms. Some had stone foundations that remained partly intact. Other walls had only traces of rotten wood remaining. Though normally Revaramek would be quite curious about such a place, now he just wanted to get this over with. Whatever Asterbury thought he could do to save his family... Just the thought made his stomach twist. If the urd'thin was right...could Revaramek really condemn his family to early deaths just to keep Asterbury trapped here?

Revaramek knew Asterbury was manipulating him. Yet he also got the feeling the furry little lunatic genuinely wanted Korakos and Nyramyn to survive. Then again, what if that was just so he could manipulate them, someday? He hissed, shaking his head. He couldn't start thinking like that.

A gentle burbling sound drew his attention near the other side of the room. The dragon swiveled his ears towards it. A raised stone spout carved like a dragon's head jutted from a wall in what was once a separate chamber. Revaramek sloshed closer. A steady trickle of water poured from the broken stone dragon's muzzle. Likely, there was once a basin beneath it for the water. Why humans would want a fountain depicting a vomiting dragon, Revaramek would never know.

Revaramek lowered his head and sniffed at the trickling water. It was still fresh, and clean. Still drinkable. That meant dragons could live here. He filed that knowledge away in case he'd ever need it. He tilted his head under the fountain, lapping at some of the trickling water. It was cold, and must have fed the flooded chamber. Whatever spring the water came was deeply buried. Revaramek was surprised the mechanism that drew and channeled the water here wasn't lost to the swamp. He paused his drinking to catch his breath and lick his muzzle in thought. Asterbury must have restored it.

When he'd quenched his thirst, Revaramek waded over to the stairs. The cold water sat heavy in his unstable belly. His stomach wasn't happy with being filled again, even just with water. The dragon hoped he wasn't going to imitate the fountain. Sunlight poured in from the stairwell, and he squinted as he peered up the stairs. Revaramek never seen stairs big enough for a dragon before. He pulled his wings against his body, and ascended the stone blocks. The stairwell was a tight fit for an adult dragon, but the fact he could pass through it at all left him with unpleasant theories about the tower's origin.

The next floor was comprised of multiple smaller rooms that had survived the years better. Some of them even had lingering furniture. He saw a moldering old desk, rotted and covered with dried out swamp slime. A collapsed bookshelf lay on another part of the floor. A few ruined tomes crusted with sediment and marked with mold and water damage were scattered around. Revaramek wondered just how long ago Asterbury had dredged this place up. Large holes in the wall let in plenty of sunlight, some of which cascaded across the stairwell. Some of the holes were surely the remains of windows. Others looked like extensive damage the place had suffered, but where that damage came from, Revaramek did not know.

Revaramek took the stairs to a higher floor. It had a central hall, divided into former rooms and chambers. At the far end of the hall, a large piece of wall was missing. Aylaryl was stretched out on the floor, sunning herself in the light streaming through the gap in the stone. It looked as if she'd torn down a few of the dividing walls to make room for herself.

The sight of her tightened Revaramek's heart. Aylaryl looked beautiful in the sunlight. Her dark purple scales held an iridescent sheen, and her black markings a glossy, ebony splendor. As gorgeous as she was, she was no match for Nyramyn's emerald brilliance. Still, seeing Aylaryl again after all these years reminded Revaramek of just how close they'd once been. Part of him still missed her.

Her purple ears swiveled at the sounds of his approach. When she glanced back at him, she sucked in a breath and her silver-white eyes widened_. She must have missed him, too_. She tried to cover it with a snarl and a toss of her head, dragging her claws against the floor. Alyaryl flicked her tail at him, a half-hearted greeting before she turned her eyes back to the sky.

"Aylaryl." Revaramek bowed his head to her, even if she couldn't see it.

"Revaramek." She did not look back again. "He's at the top."

"Nice to see you too." Revaramek shifted his weight. If she could get over her grudges long enough to conduct a civil conversation, he'd have been happy enough to catch up with her a little. He sometimes wished she hadn't gotten stuck here, but she was as deserving of such a fate as Asterbury. "You look well. I'm sure he takes good care of you."

Aylaryl gave a low snarl, still not looking back. "Enjoying the swamp?"

The way she phrased it set him on edge. It sounded as if she meant it as an insult, as if to belittle his sacrifice. He was perfectly content to play nice, but if she was going to act like that, Revaramek was going to be brutally honest. "Yes. As a matter of fact, I am enjoying the swamp. My mate and I are very happy here. With our son."

Aylaryl stiffened, her wings tense. Then she sagged, sighing. Her voice was flat. "So I hear. Congratulations."

Revaramek couldn't tell if she was being serious or sarcastic. He dipped his head either way. "Thank you."

Her only response was a grunt. She kneaded her forepaws against the stone, and tried to hide her long sigh with a shift of her wings. "You need to get your son out of here. If you don't, he's going to-"

"If you finish that sentence, I'm going to push you out into the swamp."

Aylaryl shot her head around, anger flashing in her silver-white eyes. "Don't say that like it's my fault! You know you were meant to die here. Another story saved you, instead, so now it falls on him. I don't want anything bad to happen to your child! You and I have history, but I am not some monster that wants to take it out on a hatchling. Just get him out of here while you can."

Revaramek clenched his muzzle, grinding his sharp teeth. He forced himself to swallow back his retort. His rising emotions left his fire glands tingling. Hints of bittersweet fire bile warmed his tongue. "Why do I get the feeling you and Asterbury have been plotting how to manipulate me?"

This time, Aylaryl did not try to hide her sigh. She curled her neck and laid her head down upon her forepaws. "He's waiting for you upstairs. Just go talk to him."

"Yes, wouldn't want to keep the mighty god waiting." Revaramek tossed his head and turned back to the stairwell. "He might accidentally break the world again."

Revaramek followed the stairs as they spiraled around the outside of the tower. Again, he wondered why the place seemed built to accommodate creatures of all sizes. Somehow, he doubted any dragons who wandered this place in the past were here of their own volition.

The stairs lead to a single voluminous chamber that took up the entire top floor of the old tower. The walls here were line with smooth, dark stone. A cracked crystalline dome spanned much of the ceiling. Several crystal tiles were missing, and sunlight shone through the holes in radiant beams. The light glittered off bits of shattered crystal littering the floor.

Most of the room was occupied by a world-gate much larger and far more elaborate than the one back in the marsh. This gate's silver ring section had even more individual stones cut to strange angles, each with more runes, letters, and numbers than the previous gate. The archway that held the gate's rings stood almost floor to ceiling. A familiar phrase marked the arch, with the storytellers' emblem of hands around a book on either side.

Revaramek stared at the gate, chest tightening. The dragon had half a mind to hurl himself into this one and smash it just like the last to ensure Asterbury remained imprisoned here in the swamp. If the only life at stake was his, he would destroy the gate without hesitation.

"I know what you're thinking." Asterbury leaned against the wall behind the gate, obscured by shadows. "You want to tear it down to keep me here. And who can blame you? I've been a very bad boy. The odds say, I'll be a bad boy again. You must be wondering if I'm trying to manipulate you, if I'm lying. Maybe your kid will live a full life here. Maybe he'll live long enough to watch his parents slowly rot away from the inside out. Get to hold you while you die, just like you did for you your mother. And, a few decades later, the poison will start to rot him, too." Asterbury tilted his head. "Because that's what a full life is here, isn't it? Struggle to live almost as long as a human. See your child grow old enough to hunt, if you're lucky. And if they're lucky, they might not die of thirst when you're gone."

Asterbury eased away from the wall, walking around the gate towards the dragon. "So, if that's all you want for your son, you may as well smash this gate just like you smashed the last one. But I promise you, you never_get to see him grow up, here. I wonder, when you hold his lifeless body in your arms, and cry into his soft little scales, will you be proud of your sacrifice then? Or will you wish you'd listened to _me?"

"How dare you!" Snarling, Revaramek advanced on the urd'thin, all his claws unsheathed, his fangs bared. Every word left the dragon's blood hotter. "How dare you use my son-"

In an instant, Asterbury was before him, a hand upon the dragon's muzzle. A sudden flood of vivid imagery overwhelmed Revaramek's mind. Golden sands. An urd'thin pup clutching his bloodied father. A citadel of stone, in the middle of a desert. A father, shackled in a little stone vestibule. Knives. An ear missing. A foot. A sobbing pup putting him back together with unfathomable power. A whole set of worlds dissembled and reassembled into one in only a heartbeat. An urd'thin pup in the snow. Then in a city built of crystal. Then in a crowded city. Wandering, alone. Growing up, alone. For decades. Or longer.

"That was my life." Asterbury's voice was taut, a noose around the dragon's neck. "This will be yours."

The images shifted again, and Revaramek saw himself and his family. Their cave. Nyramyn, frantic, screaming. Revaramek in the water, searching. Pulling out Korakos from the depths. Limp. Trying to help him. Trying to save him. Trying to use his spark. Too late. Then, years later, Nyramyn and Revaramek. Withering away. No more joy. The swamp took their son, and soon it would take them.

"He drowns." Asterbury's voice sharpened into a claw cutting into Revaramek's heart. "Trying to follow you, wanting to catch the big swamp crab just like father. Nyramyn looks away for a moment, and he's gone. In the black water. Deeper than he knew. Panicking, sinking, drowning before you even know he's there. He drowns, Hero. Like you would have. The death you avoided comes for him, instead. The story seeks balance. Terrible, terrible balance."

When Asterbury pulled his hand back, Revaramek hit the floor. The dragon couldn't breathe. His heartbeat stuttered, every drop of blood froze in his veins. He tried to speak, and only gagged. He shook his head, a violent, thrashing motion. He gasped again and again until finally he could force air into his lungs.

"Noooooooo!" The dragon's cry was a long, ragged howl.

"Yes." Asterbury folded his arms. "There are four stories, Revaramek. You know which one this is. Everyone-"

Revaramek launched himself at the urd'thin with every intention of smashing him right through the wall. Instead, a crushing, invisible force flattened the dragon into the floor. It pressed him there, squeezing the strength right back out of him. He tried to squirm free, but couldn't even move his paws. Each breath was its own challenge.

"That's enough, Hero." Asterbury's tone softened, his ears drooped a little. "I understand your anger. More than you know." Asterbury crouched down and picked up a broken shard of crystal. Images of an urd'thin father and son drifted across it. Blood dribbled down the crystal's edges. "What would we not do to save our families? No matter the consequences." With a sigh, he stood back up and tossed the crystal aside. "I'm going to let you up now. Catch your breath."

When the pressure eased, Revaramek took a few breaths. He slowly pushed up onto his haunches, still glaring at the urd'thin. "You can't talk about my son that way, and not expect me to-"

"Which is why I didn't hurt you." Asterbury tugged on the lavender-edged sleeve of his royal purple tailcoat. "I've told you before most of your stories ended here, in this swamp. Your mother broke the rules, you know." Asterbury pointed to the gate. "Tipped the balance. Took you out of the story where you die, and into the story where you become the hero."

Revaramek's head ached, and he rubbed at the base of a horn. "You're telling me I have to do the same."

Asterbury's face tightened. He pinned his ears back, and shook his head. "No. Your son does."

"What?" Revaramek scrunched his muzzle. The aching in his head grew stronger. "What are you talking about?"

Asterbury tilted his head, ears swiveling forward. "Do you know how your mother saved you? I mean, how she opened the gate? Knew where to take you?"

"Gods, Asterbury." Revaramek snapped his jaws, growling. He curled his tail, webbed spines brushing his scales. "It would be a damn godsend if just once you'd answer a question without asking another question."

"I'm trying to make you think." Asterbury tapped his head, alongside one of his little black horns.

"I don't want to solve your damn riddles. I just want to save my family."

"Don't we all." Dark clouds drifted behind Asterbury's inky eyes, storms behind a black veil. He twisted up his muzzle, huffing. "Your mother opened the gate because like you, she had the spark. At least as strong as your own. And she knew how to operate the gate because she came from storyteller slaves."

"Is that why they built this place big enough for a dragon?"

"Wouldn't do them much good to have slaves if the slaves couldn't get anywhere." Asterbury turned towards the gate, his gray tail twitching out from under his purple jacket. "Plenty of dragons would have seen their masters set the gates, would have heard them talking about which worlds were promising." He trailed off, murmuring to himself. "I knew some of them, briefly. Told her how to escape..."

"Her?" Revaramek pulled his head back, frills flared. "My...?"

"Don't know." Asterbury waggled his fingers alongside his head. "Was just a fleeting memory, just now. I...I think I saved her, some years earlier, after our battle. I don't know that the timeline is right. But she could have been...Or an ancestor, maybe..." The urd'thin trailed off, then whirled around to face the dragon again, his tailcoat flourishing. "She saved your life in more ways than you know."

Revaramek clutched his head in both forepaws, just around his broken and missing horns. "You're going to rupture something in my brain if you keep jumping around like that."

"Your mother, Revaramek." An unexpected reverence crept into Asterbury's voice. "Until the very end, her only thought was of you. She was already weak from the poison, and knew her spark would sap her waning strength, and still she used it. Your mother used her spark to open this gate, and then she used it again, and again, until it drained her dry. Her spark ensured you bore no lingering effects of the swamp. It helped you learn to speak their languages faster when they read you stories. And at the very end, she used it to make sure you'd keep your promise."

Revaramek's jaw dropped. That was one thing he hadn't expected Asterbury to know. "How...how did you..."

"Do you really have to ask?" Asterbury tilted his head, smiling. "You never even told Aylaryl, did you? You always said you gave your world to the village. If you told her the truth, she might have understood."

"That was the truth."

"Yes, yes, you made your truce, and you upheld it because that's what heroes do. They keep their word." Asterbury paced back and forth, tail swishing. "But it wasn't your word to the village you were keeping, was it?" He waved his hand at the dragon. "It was a promise to your mother."

Revaramek swallowed, and glanced away. An old memory echoed through his head, from the last day of his mother's life.

Promise me. So I know you'll be alright.

I promise, Momma. I'll be a hero. I'll make you proud.

The dragon swallowed hard, blinking away tears. He struggled to keep breathing through his tightening throat.

"Your word was to your mother, all along." Asterbury reached out and put a hand on the dragon's neck, stroking his scales. The tender gesture surprised Revaramek, but he did not pull away. "On her dying day, she made you promise to be a hero. And then she asked you for a story...and while you spoke, she wove that story around you with her spark, to ensure that one day, it would come true. You would be a hero."

Revaramek sucked in a breath, his eyes widening. "What?"

"She knew that heroes survive. From the moment you arrived in that marsh, she started weaving you into that story's fabric. To make sure that new world would take care of you. Promising to be its hero was the final stroke. The day Mirelle came and asked for your help, it all took hold. When you saved her life, you became the hero your mother made you into. It's no wonder you beat me."

Revaramek groaned, unbidden memories of his last day with his mother rolled through his head. It was a sunny day, beautiful and warm. They both knew her end was upon them. She'd gotten much weaker lately. He promised her to be a hero. Then he lay his wing across her, held her paw in his, and told her a story to ease her passing.Gods, he missed her. A few tears ran down the dragon's muzzle. He didn't even care if Asterbury saw. Revaramek fought off the sobs that threatened to take control, and wiped his eyes.

"How...how did you know...?"

"I see things a lot of things more clearly now, your story included." Asterbury turned back towards the gate, staring up at it. "And your son's story. Now it's his turn."

All Revaramek could do was stammer. "Wh-what?" He sniffled, and tried to clear his throat. "I don't understand."

"Your mother had the spark. You have the spark." Asterbury held out a hand, and an image of Korakos appeared above it, romping and playing. "Your son has the spark."

"That's good, right?"

Asterbury nodded once. "Yes. His spark will be far stronger than yours." Nyramyn appeared in the image. She picked up Korakos in her jaws and carried him around. "It can save their lives, but you have to give him the chance to use it."

"So, what?" Revaramek tilted his head. "I go back home and try to teach him about his spark?" He sucked in a breath, spines flaring. "Wait. Why does he have to do it?" Cold dread trickled into Revaramek's heart. "What happens to me, Asterbury?"

"Now, that depends."

The dragon's wings drooped, and he gave a heavy sigh. "What is it? Are you going to kill me if I refuse to help, then wait for Nyramyn and my son to find this place? If he has the spark..." The trickling dread became a clenching horror. "You get out either way, don't you? That's why you let me live."

"I'm not going to kill you, Revaramek." Asterbury pivoted, staring into space. "That would make Vakaal very unhappy. You should see the way he's glaring at me, just for suggesting it."

Revaramek snorted, half-wishing he could see the pup himself. "I don't suppose Vakaal knows a way I can keep you trapped here forever."

Asterbury only shrugged. "Is that what you want?" The urd'thin tilted his head, and gave the dragon a long, hard look. "I will send you home to your family. You can hug them, lick them, hold them tight, and never let them know that you've seen their deaths coming. You can fight and scratch and claw against the story, you can use your spark and struggle to keep Korakos safe. But in the end, the story will come for him. If he doesn't jump in, he'll slip and fall off a log. Or some creature will drag him into the depths. A flood will wash him away. Maybe knowing it's coming means you can prevent it until the swamp takes you. Or? Maybe trying to prevent it just makes it happen faster. Forbid him from swimming? You know how rebellious young dragons can be. But at least I'll be trapped here, right? For a while, anyway."

The dragon groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. His belly churned. All the water he'd gulped down not long ago threatened to come right back up. When something clicked in his head, he opened his eyes to narrowed slits. "What do you mean, for a while?"

"I think we're both starting to understand what I am. What I really am. Aren't we?"

Revaramek gave a single nod. "Opening that gate is about the only thing you can't do."

"For now." Asterbury took a deep breath. "But my fury and my grief alike have punched holes through the veil, Revaramek. Aylaryl keeps me bound here, because traveling through those holes would kill her. Here, I can keep her alive, I can keep her young, for as long as she wishes it. But what if, one day...she..." Asterbury swallowed, hints of pain flickered in his dark eyes. "She's had enough of this place? What if she's ready to let go? I could not...could not ask her to stay, if she was truly ready to die." He gave a shuddering sigh, and a ragged snarl crept into his voice. "You think then that this broken world could somehow contain my grief? You might have stranded me here for a few lifetimes, but..."

He waved his hand, and the entire top of the tower peeled away, leaving only the floor and the gateway. Blocks of stone and crystalline tiles spun into the air, lazily spiraling around them. Bright sunlight shone down upon the gate, gleaming on its angled silver surfaces. "Someday, after you're gone, after your family is gone...after Aylaryl is gone. I'm going to tear my way through that damaged veil and find myself in whatever existence lays beyond. And I'll be alone again. And angry."

The dragon shuddered, his scales clicking. "So keep her happy. So that she never wants to...let go."

"That's the thing about immortality, though. When everything's the same, day after day, year after year, the shine wears off after a while." Asterbury flourished his hand at the gate. "Now, if we were, say, able to visit other worlds safely-"

"You mean ruin them."

Asterbury turned back towards the dragon. "It's strange, don't you think? That I can't open the gate? I've all this unfathomable power, and yet, I can't do a simple thing that you can. It's as if I can punch a hole through a wall, but I don't know how to turn a doorknob. Don't you think that's odd?"

"I thought it might be like a failsafe, so you couldn't-"

"I think you're right, and I think it's up here." Asterbury circled a finger around one of his horns. "Like the holes in my memories. The things I wished I could forget, and so I did. But the longer I've spent here, the more those holes start to fill. And sooner or later...I might remember how to open that door."

Revaramek twisted up his muzzle, and flattened his spines. That was a very disconcerting thought. "Even so. That could be a hundred years from now. You'd have no one left to take revenge on. I'd still have succeeded."

"And your family would still be dead because you refused to listen to me." All the stones and crystalline tiles flew back and snapped into place in an instant. Somehow, the room looked far darker than before. "Wouldn't you rather have bested me, and saved them?"

The dragon held up a paw, his pads to the urd'thin. "Let's...say for a moment, I believe you. What would I do? Just...go home and bring them all here, take them to the marsh?"

"Ah." Asterbury's gaze fell to the floor for a moment. "That's the hard part."

"It won't be as difficult as accepting that I have to let you free. And we haven't even talked about where I'd send you, yet. The hard part?" Revaramek snorted. "That's letting you out of here."

"No, Hero." Asterbury shook his head. "It really isn't."

Revaramek pulled his head back, lowering his eye ridges. His tail curled around his paws. "What are you getting at?"

"You never knew your father." Asterbury waved his hand, and part of the wall behind Revaramek dissembled itself, once more revealing the stretch of open swamp surrounding the tower. Beyond it, the wall of gray clouds ever-churned. "He left, shortly after you hatched. There wasn't enough water for three of you, and he wanted you to have his share." The floating bricks built themselves into a family of dragons, two asleep, one awake. The father pressed his muzzle to the others, a tender goodbye, and then he flew off. Brick, by brick, the father fell apart. The other two brick dragons rose, and walked together across the swamp. "He tore himself away, to make sure you'd both survive. And now?" Out beyond the tower, the stone blocks formed themselves into a series of rings, and soon, a lone dragon stood before them. "You must do the same. That is the hard part."

Revaramek gasped and stumbled back, panting. "No! No, no! I can't just leave them! Why...why would I even...what would that accomplish?"

"When you came back to the swamp, you put yourself back into the story's shackles, back into its cycle." Asterbury ruffled the fur on the back of one hand with the other. "But you have a very rare opportunity. By completing this loop, you give your son the chance to shatter those shackles, and with them, the cycle."

"I don't understand." Revaramek's mind whirled. Just that morning he was so happy to be taking Korakos to play in the ruins, and now everything was falling apart. "Why would I have to leave them, to save them?"

"You put this in motion the moment you came back to the swamp. When you-"

"Stop!" Revaramek gave a clipped roar, frustration nearly overwhelming him. "Aarrrgh, just...stop! I don't care about cycles and stories, I don't care about why or how, I just want to save my family! Why won't you just tell me how to save my family?" He stomped a paw against the ground, snarling. "Every time I talk to you, I just end up wanting to bite your head off, or throttle you till your eyes pop out! You're maddening! Stop with the riddles and the nonsense and just tell me how to save my family!"

Asterbury only stared at him. The bricks all put themselves back together in the wall behind the urd'thin. He lifted a hand, and pointed at the gate. "Activate it, and go home to the marsh. Go hug Mirelle, and all your other friends. One day, you'll see your family again."

Revaramek gaped, fighting back his fury. He wanted to rip the little bastard's limbs off one at a time and scatter them across the marsh. Somehow Asterbury made it all seem so damn simple without ever explaining any of it. "Why the hell would I do that? Why don't I just-"

"You have to go by yourself." Asterbury's voice softened into a sympathetic whisper. "I'm genuinely sorry, Revaramek, for what it will put your mate and child through. Part of me would enjoy seeing _you_suffer after what you did, but another part of me...another part me wishes there was different way. But there isn't." He thrust a finger at the gate again. "You have to go through, alone, without ever telling Nyramyn, without saying goodbye, without going back to her for even one more night."

Breath by breath, heartbeat to heartbeat, Revaramek's anger melted away into lonely despair. The dragon felt cornered. If Asterbury was telling the truth, his only options were to stay and watch his family die, or abandon them to save their lives. "Is this..." His throat tightened, his chest constricted. He forced himself to suck in a breath. "Is this your plan? Is this how you get revenge?"

Asterbury shook his head once, then ran his hands back over his oversized ears. "This is how you save your family."

Revaramek stared at his paws. Now, he wasn't so sure urd'thin was manipulating him. If anything, Asterbury almost seemed legitimately upset. Maybe it was because a father and son were involved.

"Why don't..." Revaramek lifted his head. "Why don't I just...go and get them? Bring them here? We can all go together."

"You know the answer to that as well as I."

The dragon's gaze dropped right back to his paws. "Nyramyn wouldn't go."

"Nyramyn wouldn't go." Asterbury crossed the room, looking down the stairwell. "She has her joy here. She knows how to live, how to enjoy her life, and how to teach her son to enjoy his. Though she adores your stories, she's not sure how much of them to believe. And the idea of actually crossing to another world terrifies her. Doesn't it?" He glanced back at the dragon. "I suspect you've broached the idea."

An icy claw dug into Revaramek's heart. "I asked her once, if she had a chance to leave this place, would she have taken it? And she said, no. She told me, this was the life she was born to. This was the life she learned to love, and she...she was afraid if she lived anywhere else, she might not be able to find her joy, there. What joy was there in the rain, if it always fell clean? What happiness was there in the crab, if everything tasted sweet? She...she'd never want to leave, but...she doesn't understand, she doesn't..."

"If you ask her to leave, she'll refuse. Fear will keep her bound to this place. And then what?" Asterbury waved his hand in the air, showing his sharp teeth. "Argue with her? Roar and scream that she doesn't understand? Fight until it drives her away? She won't want you to take Korakos, either. So then what, snatch him away, flee to the gate without her? Maybe then your son lives, but your mate dies lonely, betrayed by her love."

"So...maybe...maybe I just explain I've found a gate, _tell_her...I'm going home, and I want...I want them to go with me..."

"She'll try to make you stay." Asterbury lifted a block of stone from the stairwell with his power, and set it near the gate. He padded over and hopped atop it, his feet hanging just above the floor. "And then the same thing happens. You fight. In the end, your choice is the same. Either stay and watch them die, or leave her behind, resenting you. There's only one way you _all_make it out of here alive. You have to go first, and leave her wondering."

Revaramek whined, his whole body sagged. His drooping wings touched the stone floor. He put his head in his paws. "How does that save them?"

Asterbury shaped the stone beneath him into a reclining chair. Stone turned to soft cushion. He leaned his head back against it. "Your son."

"What about him?"

"He starts to grow up without ever really knowing you. You're a ghost of a smile, a whisper of a laugh, a glimpse in a dream." Asterbury curled his tail into his lap, kneading it. "But he hears all about you from his mother. She tells him stories. All the stories she heard from you. If they weren't about you before, they are now. It's her way of helping her son get to know his father. He grows up like you did, weaned on stories. Only, his stories are of a great, resplendent green dragon."

Pieces started putting themselves together in Revaramek's head. "And he has...you said he has the spark."

"Yes, he does." Asterbury flicked an ear. "In your absence, Nyramyn takes fanatically good care of him. She won't let him near the black water till he's old enough to swear to her he won't go into it. She never stops watching him. When he goes in, she saves him. He doesn't drown, anymore. But then the clean water starts to dwindle."

Revaramek jerked his head up. "No..."

"She doesn't tell Korakos, but she knows she has to try and find a new home, with more water. So when he's old enough to look after himself a little while, she leaves. Searches for water. Searches for you."

"Me?" Revaramek whimpered, ears drooping. "Poor Nyra. She must think I..."

"She thinks the swamp took you. Knows you can't navigate well here. Nyra comes to believe you got lost, and died in the swamp. Never tells your son. But for the first time in her life...she's lost her joy. She cries when he's asleep, curls and sobs as softly as she can."

"No! I can't do that to her!" Revaramek shook his head a few times, tears welling up in his eyes. "I can't!"

Asterbury just went on. "She swears to herself that she won't let the swamp take her son, too. And one day, while she's out looking for water...she stumbles upon an old ruin she's never seen before."

The urd'thin held out both hands. A stretch of muddy land appeared above them. Atop it formed a few broken walls, and a shattered arch. Revaramek recognized it. It was all that was left of the gate he entered this world from with Asterbury, where they'd had their battle. Asterbury moved a hand around the image, and it shifted, growing larger. The focus changed to a corner, where broken wall met broken wall. There, wedged in the mud, was a strange silver stone, with odd runes carved on each of its many angled surfaces.

"And she finds this." Asterbury smiled, and gestured at the silver stone. "And it strikes her then, that without a doubt, you were telling the truth. She'd suspected, but never allowed herself to truly believe. And in that moment, the idea of going to another world isn't terrifying, anymore, for the only joy she has left to lose is her son. Now, fleeing the swamp becomes her only hope of saving Korakos. She doesn't know if it will work, doesn't know if they'll survive it if it does. But it's all she has left to cling to. She swears to herself she will not let this wretched swamp take her son. So, she starts to search for something new."

"Then she comes across this place..." Revaramek tilted his head back, staring up at the immense gate.

"Only with your son's help."

The dragon splayed his ears. "About that. You said earlier-"

"Your son loves stories." Asterbury waved a hand, and the image shifted to one of Korakos, curled and alone. "As much or more than you do. So when he's lonely, when his mother is gone for days at a time, he starts to tell them to himself. All his stories are about his favorite subject. The great, resplendent green dragon, who conquered many things, and was beloved by all. Without ever truly knowing it, he starts to tell himself stories about his father."

A shudder racked Revaramek, his wings rustled and his scales clicked together.

"Even as a child, he sees his mother's great unhappiness." Visions of Korakos catching his mother crying flickered above them. "Knows she used to be happier. Sees her getting weaker. But he sees the sparkle in her eyes, hears the joy in her voice when she talks about you. And so, his stories start to change. Soon, he tells himself stories about his mother, finding a way to the land of clean water. The place his father came from."

Revaramek sucked in a breath, his jaw hanging open. His spines rattled. "His spark..."

Asterbury gave a single nod. "His spark. Awoken by his emotions, and his desperation to see his mother happy again, his spark takes shape. Raw, undeveloped, but strong. It seeps into the world, into his mother, into..." He flourished his hand. "Their story. Nyra cannot find this place without him. Old instincts steer her away. You felt them when you arrived, didn't you?"

The dragon's voice trembled. "I...I wanted to...to flee."

"And so will Nyra. Instincts tell her subconsciously to steer clear of the maelstrom, and whatever powers keep it churning." Asterbury spread his hands, and a new image of Korakos sprang to life between them. The hatchling was curled up, alone, his head upon his tail. Pictures from stories he told himself swirled around him. "When his mother is gone, he lays alone in the cave. To ease the loneliness, he tells himself a story about his mother finally finding you again. Finding her joy. He tells those stories a lot, because they make him happy. And bit by tiny bit, his stories guide her here." A new image appeared, of Nyra flying towards an immense wall of churning clouds. One by one, dreams of clean water and green dragons drifted from Korakos, past his mother, and inch by inch they parted the great clouds to reveal a broken tower. "In his head, the story may take different roads, but one way or another, she always finds her way back to you. And that is the part of his stories his spark brings to life."

The dragon struggled to hold back a tearful whimper. He sniffled, all his spines flat around his head. He blinked, and several hot tears ran down his muzzle. "That's...that's..."

"That's the only way. Only his spark can overcome her instincts and show her the way to this place. Only his spark can guide her back to you." Asterbury's voice was gentle. His dark eyes glistened, wet. "You should know, Hero, that if there's one thing I wouldn't lie to you about, it's your son. I think you know why."

Revaramek managed a half-hearted nod. "You...you swear to me...on Vakaal, on your father's soul...that you're telling me the truth."

Asterbury's gaze locked with Revaramek. The urd'thin did not blink, or turn away, or smile. "I swear on Vakaal's pure heart, and Father's loving soul, that I am telling you the truth. I have followed the threads of all your son's stories, and this is the only one that leads him to a long, happy life."

After a few shuddering breaths, Revaramek forced himself to look at the gate. "So...they come...here? This one's...different."

"Yes, it is." Asterbury turned to regard the world gate. "Different builders. Older. Stronger, too." A smile tugged at his muzzle. His right ear twitched. "Let's just say this one's got a lot more options."

"She...Nyra, she..." Revaramek licked his muzzle, trying to keep his voice steady. "She won't know how to work it. Does she have...? I mean, you keep talking about Korakos, but...they won't know what to do."

"No, they won't."

"I've told her stories, but...Oh, god, have I ever mentioned 1-N? What if they go to the wrong place?" A thousand fresh and terrible fears whirled in Revaramek's mind, a vortex of sudden panic. "What if they can't activate it?" He panted, looking around the room as if he'd find answers. "What if it doesn't work? What if they break it? What if-"

"Calm down, Hero." Asterbury hopped off his chair, and padded over to Revaramek. He put a hand on the dragon's foreleg. "You won't do your family any good if you give yourself a heart attack. The gate will work for him. Maybe not his mother, but for the hatchling? It'll obey." Asterbury patted Revaramek's scales. "That's why it must be him. His mother might not know where to go or how to use it, but it won't matter. When the time comes, it'll sense his spark. As long as they get out of there in time, he'll-"

Revaramek's head shot down to Asterbury. "What do you mean, in time?"

The urd'thin only shrugged. "A story wants what it wants. Stories, they're...almost like living things. They grow, they change, they adapt. It's a lesson even I had trouble learning. And this one...it's my fault, I suppose, but...this is a dark story, bitter and angry. It doesn't like being escaped..." Asterbury smiled and turned away, tailcoat brushing the dragon. "Look, as long as the hatchling tells his stories, those stories will guide them here. And once the gate activates, it will reach to his spark, just as it did yours."

Just as Revaramek was fretting over the idea that the story itself might not want them to escape, Asterbury gave him something new to worry about. "Korakos won't know where to go!"

"Of course he will." The urd'thin offered an oddly reassuring smile. "There's only one place he'll want to go." Asterbury turned away, and swept his hand across the room. A mural painted itself over the crystalline dome above them. A beautiful image of the marsh Revaramek once knew, of blue skies reflected on endless, drinkable water. "The place with the clean water, that his mother tells him stories of. The place where his mother will finally be happy again. Because that's where he thinks his father will be waiting for them." Asterbury pivoted back towards the dragon again. "And his father will be waiting for them there, won't he?"

"I...I..." Revaramek could not find words. He searched his head, his heart, desperate for an answer yet terrified of what it meant. "I don't..."

Asterbury bowed, then straightened up with a smile. "You give it some thought, Hero. I'm going to go have a little chit chat with Aylaryl." He walked to the stairs, then paused, turning back towards the dragon. His chair reverted into a stone block, and returned to its place in the staircase. "But don't think too long. If you decide you want to stay, then you open the gate for me, I send you home, and that's the end of it."

"Wait!" Revaramek took a step after him, snarling. "That wasn't part of the deal!"

"Oh?" Asterbury perked his ears, grinning. "Wasn't aware we'd _made_a deal yet. But consider those my terms. You open the gate, and then I let you have your choice. Stay and die, or leave and see them again someday."

"Every time I start to hate you a little less, you pull something like this!"

"Consider it a talent. But these are your options, Hero. Option one. I send you home, to your family, and you spend your last years with them, awaiting the inevitable. I'll warn you now, your family will never find this place if you return to them. Option two. You refuse to open the gate, I _don't_send you home, and you die in the swamp, lost and alone. At least then your son still tells his stories. Maybe they still find the marsh, but if they do, there's no father waiting for them. And the gate still opens, and I still leave." A smile stretched across Asterbury's muzzle. "Or option three. You open the gate, and after I'm gone, you travel home, and wait for the day you get to hug your family again. And you watch your son grow up."

Revaramek grit his teeth, his spines flattened. "Where the hell _are_you planning to go, anyway?"

Asterbury pressed a hand to his chest. "I'm flattered you're thinking about me. But we'll talk about that when you make up your mind."

"And if I decide I have terms of my own to offer you?"

"Well, I dunno, Hero." Asterbury folded his arms, fangs bared. "Last time you offered me a deal, you didn't exactly keep your word. But tell you what. You give it all some thought, and when you're ready, you come and find me and we'll continue this discussion. I'm sure you'll more questions and loopholes you'll think you've found. But let's be honest. I think we both know your mind is already made up."

As Asterbury disappeared down the stairs, Revaramek sighed. His fury soon melted away. Much as he hated to admit it, Asterbury was right.

In his heart, Revaramek already knew he'd save his family, no matter the cost.

*****

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