FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

*****

Chapter Seventy Nine

*****

Revaramek paced before the world-gate. Terrified indecision left him paralyzed inside. Though he knew what he had to do, that did not stop him from second guessing it. Maybe, given time, he could talk Nyramyn into letting him take them all through the gate together. Surely, she would trust him in the end, wouldn't she? If he brought her here, they could live in this tower a while, let her come to terms with leaving the swamp. He could convince her she'd have a better life in the marsh, that she could still find her joy there. Revaramek knew she only wanted the best for Korakos, just as he did.

But even if Revaramek convinced her, activating the gate still meant freeing Asterbury. He racked his brain, trying to think of some way to get Nyramyn and Korakos back to the marsh without releasing the urd'thin. The dragon snarled under his breath. Who was he kidding? The only time he'd ever been a step ahead of Asterbury was when he brought him here. And now? Now Asterbury had years to plan this.

How could Revaramek possibly come up with a trick, a loophole that Asterbury hadn't already thought of? The urd'thin made it sound as if he'd investigated all possible outcomes ages ago. But now that Asterbury involved the dragon, Revaramek could change the story, right? Change the outcome? Was it possible to instruct the gate to only allow Revaramek and his family through? Maybe he could have Asterbury bring Nyramyn and Korakos here. He could explain everything to his mate, and give her a chance to come to terms with it while he worked out a way to leave Asterbury behind. It was an idea, anyway, a place to start.

Clinging to the faint hope that he still had some measure of control over the situation, Revaramek hurried down the stairs. He found Asterbury sitting against Aylaryl, right where he'd left her earlier. Together, they stared out through the missing wall into the blue sky above the eye of the maelstrom. Asterbury drew his hand across the sky. Aylaryl turned her head, following the gesture. The urd'thin must have been painting images only she could see.

"Asterbury." He padded up behind Aylaryl, just out of range of her tail.

"The answer is no."

"You don't even--"

"You're going to ask me to bring your family here, right now." The urd'thin swiveled his ears back. "And the answer is no."

"Why the hell not?" Revaramek gnashed his teeth, his spines all flared out.

"Because you have to play this the right way." Asterbury waved his hand. "Putting all that aside, there's only two ways things can go if I suddenly whisk your mate and son here." He held up a finger. "One, not only does it prove the evil, psychotic, nigh-invincible, world-destroying urd'thin you've told her so many stories about is real, but you seem to be in league with him. And while you try and explain what's really going on and why you have to go through that big scary gate right now, she screams at both us of to stay the hell away from her son, and in a panic, tries to flee with him back into the swamp."

Asterbury held up his other finger, still staring out the shattered wall. "Or two, you can be my hostages. You'll try to explain that you're only activating the gate because I'm forcing you to do it, but so long as it _is_open, you may as well leave the only home she's ever known. She, of course, will tell you that if I'm even half as bad as you've made me out to be, you cannot, under any circumstances, open that gate and let me out of this swamp. Then if you do so anyway, she thinks you're either crazy or being manipulated by me, and again, flees with your son back to the swamp. Therefore, no. I'm not bringing them here. And no. I'm not sending you home to get them. I told you how this has to play out."

Revaramek hung his head, his muzzle nearly brushing the stone floor. He wanted to be angry, needed to be angry, but after everything he'd been through that day, he just didn't have the energy left to find fury in himself. "What about...what about my spark?"

"What about it?" Asterbury shifted around to lean his head against Aylaryl, his gray fur brushing purple scales. "What are you going to do with it? Use it to brainwash your mate into agreeing to go through the gate with you? Is that really something you want to do?"

"I could...use it to keep Korakos safe." He took a step forward, easing around Aylaryl's tail. "I've used to it to save lives before!"

"Yes, you have." Asterbury pushed himself up onto his feet, rubbing the edge of Aylaryl's wing. "That's sort of the operative word, though. You saved_them. You did _not resurrect them. Your spark tends to operate on instinct. You were desperate to save Mirelle, and so you did. You wanted to help me heal Aylaryl, and so she was healed. You did not want to drown, and so the swamp saved you. These are all moments of desperation, a change brought in an instant. But creating long term, lasting change? I'm not sure that's something you can do. You could save Korakos, if you found him while he was still clinging to life. But you won't. And if he's already gone, not even your spark can bring him back."

"Yours could."

"Is that a risk you want to take?" Asterbury slipped away from Aylaryl. She sat up, nuzzled him, and the urd'thin approached Revaramek. "Let's assume, for a moment, you stay. Korakos dies. I show up, and change that. How do you think Nyramyn takes it?"

Revaramek groaned, rubbing his head with a paw. "I don't know. I don't have all the damn answers. I think...I think she'd just be happy he was alright."

"Or would she be worried about changing the course of nature? Would she feel indebted to me? Wouldn't you feel indebted to me?" Asterbury spread his hands out, grinning. "Before you knew it, you really would be stuck accompanying me world to world, while I snuff out the storytellers. While you hide the horrible truth from poor little Korakos, about the day he died, and the monster that brought him back to life in exchange for his father's loyalty." Asterbury shrugged, and examined his claws. "And that's before you even get into the impact of such a change."

Revaramek lashed his tail, shattering the rotten remains of an old bookshelf. Bits of broken wood scattered across the floor. "Do you have any idea how much I hate you right now?"

"Hate? Me?" Asterbury put a hand over his chest, gasping. "But I'm so cuddly, and lovable! Why, I'm not evil, I'm just misunderstood! I'm an irrepressible rapscallion spreading a bit of chaos and mischief in my wake, all for the sake of a good laugh."

"You're a nutball." Aylaryl snorted, flicking her tail tip against the urd'thin's rump.

"Ow!" Asterbury yelped and jumped. He glared at the purple-scaled female a moment, then turned back to Revaramek. "I've already thought of all of this, Hero. Truth is, I don't want your kid to die, and I think you know that. I assure you, I've taken pains to make sure the best-case scenario for his future is the one that's going to play out."

"Why don't you just fix the swamp?" Frustration boiled through Revaramek, erupting in a blast of fire he spat across the ceiling. Red-orange flames rippled and cascaded, scorching the stone. "You can, can't you? Clean the water, cleanse the clouds, turn this whole place back into a marsh, just like the one we lived in on 1-N. It could be perfect for all of us." He glared at Aylaryl. "If you two could get over your revenge fixation, even you could live a peaceful life here together."

"As much as I hate to stomp on your happy daisies, it won't work." Asterbury shook his head, leaning up against the female dragon again. "It's a fine theory, but in practice it won't happen."

"No, I guess neither of you could ever give up your hatred, could you." Revaramek's voice was flat.

A smirk tugged at Asterbury's muzzle. "Clever. Not what I meant though. There's two reasons why we can't just fix the swamp. For one-"

"You sure have a lot of explanations bottled up in there." Revaramek dropped onto his haunches, grunting. "Guess you've been waiting a long time to feel important again."

Asterbury shrugged, his ears perked. "I've had some time to think about a few things. You remember Enora?"

Revaramek cringed. Her name was suddenly an anchor around his heart, dragging it into the depths of his soul. After his mother, she was one of the first people to truly care about him. She'd been his best friend and more for a long time. Enora even saved his very life, when she talked Jekk into sparing him in return for the truce. Revaramek licked his nose, and curled his tail, staring at his webbing.

"I'll take that as a yes. Enora and I used to talk about things like that." Asterbury turned and stroked Aylaryl's scales when the woman's name left the female dragon's ears drooping. "I'll spare you the long monologue, but suffice it to say we theorized that too much change to a single story is like a hammer through the glass. I did that once before, and it made this." He swept his hand across the opening in the wall, gesturing at the swamp. "If I try and change this all at once, what do you think is going to happen this time?"

"Then fix it a little at a time. Clean the water bit by bit, and--"

"The other problem is that you want me fix it." Asterbury bared his fangs, growling his words. "There's nothing to fix. It isn't broken anymore. Just because your kind can't easily survive here doesn't mean the world is ruined. On the contrary, it's starting to find its new balance. It's coming back to life. There are plenty of creatures living out there now. All the strange things you hunt, all the odd beasts in the water, the things that saved you when you were drowning? Even your relatives out there in the ocean where the desert used to be?"

Asterbury flourished his royal purple tailcoat, and swept a hand across the distant swamp. "This is their world now. Life goes on for them. They adapted to what I did to this place, what I did to them. If anything, you lingering dragons are in the way of the story's return to symmetry. You don't adapt or change easily, and for the first time in your existence, that's become a detriment. If I turned this place into a marsh you could survive, I'd be condemning all the creatures that thrive here to their own slow death." The urd'thin flattened his ears, and shook his head. "I think I've ruined enough worlds. I'm not going to do that again."

Revaramek sighed, feeling as if his whole body was deflating. Every idea he had, Asterbury had a way to puncture it. Every hope he clung to, the urd'thin wrenched from his paws. Though Asterbury's reasoning was unexpectedly noble, it didn't make the dragon feel any better about it. He dragged unsheathed claws against the floor, scratching at the stone.

"You really have thought of everything, haven't you?"

"I do try to think ahead." Asterbury stepped away from Aylaryl, crossing towards the dragon. "Barring any unforeseen betrayals, of course. So. Have you made up your mind?"

Revaramek locked his eyes with Asterbury's, staring into dark, inky oceans. "You wouldn't let me go home now, even if I wanted it, would you?"

"You really wanna let your child die?" Asterbury gazed right back at him, unblinking. "I don't think you do."

"That's not answering my question."

"Why ask for an answer you already know?" Asterbury brandished a hand in front of the dragon's face, waggling his clawed fingers. "I've given you all the time with your son I dare. But this will not save him, if he remembers you when you're gone."

"But why the hell not?"

"Because then all the stories he tells are of himself playing games with the father he so dearly remembers. As touching as those stories are, they do not lead his mother to the gate. They do not lead him home." Asterbury's ears drooped, and his voice drifted, growing somber. "You have to be a phantom in his dreams, and a haunted, longing memory in his mother's eyes. Your son must see her sadness, to tell himself the story where she's happy again. Where she finds her way back to you. It's the only way this works."

Asterbury reached out and gently set his hand upon Revaramek's muzzle. "So, no. I won't send you back to watch him die. If you want to try and find your own way back to him, I won't stop you, but I'll tell you right now, you'll never make it. You'll die out there, and so your son will still tell the story that guides them to the gate. They just won't find you on the other side, anymore."

"So...as long as they think I'm dead, they make it to the marsh?" Revaramek took a deep breath, easing his head away from Asterbury's hand. "So what if I try and use my spark for something else? Since we're being so honest, tell me. If I use my spark, if I give up my own life in the effort...can I kill you?"

"You want honesty? Very well." Asterbury's eyes darkened, as if casting shadows across his face, and all at once, indigo lightning crackled across his fur. "You're but an ember dancing above my flame, Hero. Your light would wink out long before my radiance fades. Don't make me end you. Live long enough to see if your son's spark will grow into a fire of its own. It's the best choice you can make." Asterbury sighed, and the darkness and lightning faded from around him as quickly as it came. "Don't make Korakos grow up without you. Don't let him grow up into someone like me."

Revaramek stood tensed for long moments, fighting back his anger and his instincts. As much as it pained him, he knew Asterbury was right. He never could beat the little monster in battle, even with his spark. Revaramek only managed only to beat him before with his brain, and a great sacrifice. If only he could...

Wait. Maybe he had an idea.

The dragon narrowed his eyes. He pushed his muzzle right up against Asterbury's. "I still beat you."

"Yes, you did."

"Was that the first time you'd ever been beaten?"

"That depends on how you define a loss." The urd'thin smiled, just a little. "Don't expect it to happen again."

"I'm not going to fight you, Asterbury." Revaramek flexed his wings, and pulled his head back. "You're right, I couldn't win."

Asterbury's gratingly cheerful tone returned. "Glad to hear you've come to your senses, old pal. Shall I take it then that you've made up your mind?" He swung his arm and snapped his fingers. "So, what'll it be? Going to fire up the old gate, or should Aylaryl and I be on our way and leave you here to try and find your way home? Hint!" He poked the air. "You'll never make it."

Revaramek bore his antics with as much stoicism as he could muster. He flared his wings, displaying their copper splotches. "I will activate the gate for you, on one condition."

"Oh, I don't think you're in any position to be bargaining."

"Then I won't open it." Revaramek sat back down on his haunches, glancing at Aylaryl. "You may as well take your crazy boyfriend and go."

"Don't be a fool, Rev." Aylaryl hissed at him, waving her paw in the air. "Think of your family!"

"I am." Revaramek just cocked his head, staring at her. "I'm confident that even if I defy him, Asterbury won't harm my mate, or my son. I don't think Vakaal will let him." He narrowed his eyes at Aylaryl. "And I _know_you won't let him."

Aylaryl flattened back her ears, glancing away. That told him all he needed to know. His family was safe from Asterbury, at least.

"So that just leaves this story my son has to tell, for his spark to guide them here, and activate the gate. Well..." Revaramek stretched a wing forward to scratch his neck. "Let's see." He leaned into the scratching, and gave a very thoughtful murmur. "Hrrrmmm...the way it sounds to me, it doesn't matter if I actually go through that gate or not. As long as they don't know what happened to me, Nyramyn will start looking, and Korakos will start telling his stories. So, I can just wait here till they arrive, can't I?"

Asterbury's expression went blank. His ears twitched. "You'd never survive that long here. This part of the swamp is different than-"

"Maybe." Revaramek shrugged his wings, curling his tail around his paws. "Maybe not. Not really your concern. Besides, even if I die here--"

"You do." Asterbury grit his teeth, curling his fingers into fists. "I've looked. You make it about a year before you--"

"Doesn't matter." Revaramek wasn't interested in his explanations, anymore. These were his decisions to make, not Asterbury's. "What matters is that it sounds like they make it here anyway. If the swamp kills me, that just makes it more likely my family escapes, right?"

"That still means your son--"

"Stop talking about my son!" Revaramek's voice rose to an angry growl. His fire glands ached, ready to spray flame across his enemies. If only I could. "I understand the risks, Asterbury, and I understand what you're asking me to do, what you want me to sacrifice. I would do anything, anything for my son. But you're not going back to the marsh."

Asterbury tilted his head, ears splayed near his horns. "Waaaait. I already told you I wouldn't be going back there. So just what is this condition?"

"Oh, now you want to hear it? I thought you didn't want to bargain."

With a growl, the urd'thin folded his arms. He flicked his tail back and forth beneath his tailcoat, waiting. "Go on then."

Revaramek gave Asterbury his most infuriating, self-satisfied, benevolent overlord smirk. "Ask me nicely."

The urd'thin sneered, then gave a grumbling sigh. "Oh please, Mister Hero, won't you share your big important condition with the wicked villain?"

"Since you put it that way." Revaramek stretched his wings. He gazed at them, then made a show of yawning before folding his wings once more. "You'll only go where I send you. You don't get to tell me what world to set the gate for. I set it, and you go wherever it leads. That's the condition. That's the only way I do this."

"Oh?" Asterbury's ears perked, and he glanced back at Aylaryl. She flattened her frills, flexing her wings in uncertainty. The urd'thin spread his hands wide. "Tell us, then. What wonderful destination do you think you have in mind? A different poisoned swamp? Going to try and banish us into another version of this world where we won't have you to open up the gate anymore?"

"The thought crossed my mind. But no." Revaramek lowered his head till he was muzzle to muzzle with Asterbury again. This time rather than growl at him, he offered him the friendliest smile he could muster. "I'm not going to decide at all. I'm going to let Vakaal tell me where to send you."

Asterbury recoiled, his eyes wide and ears up. "What?"

"You basically admitted he's still up there, right?" Revaramek stretched a forepaw and tapped the urd'thin between the horns. "That he wouldn't let you hurt me. That he wants to heal, instead of harm. Alright then, let's see where he wants to go." Revaramek turned and walked away, and without another word, made his way up the stairs.

"Hey! Hey!" Asterbury called after him, increasingly agitated. "That isn't how it works! You can't just call him out and ask him where he wants to go. Besides, he's probably just going to want to go home! To the desert! Which would be perfect, so if you think this is victory over me, think again!"

Revaramek didn't reply. He was more than happy just to let Asterbury rant and rave as he came to terms with the dragon's condition. Once back on the top floor of the old tower, he settled near the gargantuan gate. Revaramek gazed up at it, trying not to think too hard about what he was going to have to do. It was bad enough he had to trust Asterbury, but...Gods, what if Asterbury was wrong? Or lying?

The dragon groaned, clutching at his chest with a paw. Revaramek suddenly felt as though his sternum was crushing his heart against his spine. He had half a mind to leap off the tower, take to his wings, and try to fly home. But Asterbury was right, Revaramek had no idea where he was. He wouldn't know which direction to fly. He tilted his head, wondering for a moment if his spark could guide him. Maybe, but was it something he wanted to risk? And even if he made it, could he talk Nyra into coming? Could he even guide them back if--

"Alright, Hero." Asterbury's voice preceded him up the stairs. Aylaryl followed him, a large, leather pack clutched in her jaws. The urd'thin approached the dragon, waving at the gate. "Vakaal's recommendation, is it? I'm curious. How do you think this is gonna work?"

Revaramek snorted, flaring up his spines. "I hope you've got everything you wanted to bring, cause I'm tired of listening to you talk." He turned towards the gate, and stretched a wing forward. With a quick swipe of his claws, he drew a little blood from his wing membrane, gathered it on his pads, and then smeared it over one of the silver stones. He barely even paid the gate notice as the rings separated, and the whole thing whirred to life. Instead, he glanced back at the urd'thin, his voice soft. "Vakaal, if you can hear me. Thank you for helping me survive. I need your help again, and I'm sure you know why."

Asterbury folded his arms. "You make it sound like you expect him to take over and start chatting away with you."

Aylaryl sat the pack down near Asterbury, then nudged him. "Are you sure this is wise?"

"Bit late to be questioning." Revaramek turned away from the gate to snap his jaws at Aylaryl. He glanced at the urd'thin. "C'mere."

Behind him, the gate's rings whirled and spun round each other, casting blue light across the floor. Sparks and indigo motes danced at the edges of Revaramek's vision. Bolts of crackling azure twisted and writhed inside the rings. The swirling cerulean spiral left its shifting glow cascading across the floor, and over the dark walls. Above them, the crystalline dome shone with the reflected hues of a thousand shades of blue.

Though it had been years since the last time he activated a gate, Revaramek again felt the strange unseen question, tugging at his mind, coiling around his heart. This time he answered it, willing his spark, his buried ember to respond. A warmth spread through him, coaxed by the world-gate's power, imbued into it by hands never meant to possess such ability. Soon, he felt the question, caressing his consciousness, pulling at him. A wordless query.

Where?

_Patience._Revaramek thought the word, imagined the machine hearing the answer. The tendrils of its power eased around his thoughts, giving him time to consider his destination. Behind him, stone rings clicked and clattered as they aligned themselves, runes and numbers displayed for a moment before changing again.

Asterbury took a few slow steps towards the dragon, his tail fluffed up and sticking straight out behind him. Good, Revaramek thought, he was nervous. That meant Asterbury wasn't sure how this was going to play out, either. But this was the only gambit Revaramek had, and he was damn sure going to play it. He glared down at the urd'thin for a moment, then tilted his head.

"When you made me see things earlier, you put your hand on me." Revaramek flicked his spines back, grunting. "That makes it easier for you, right? That connection?" Asterbury nodded, and as soon as he opened his mouth to reply, Revaramek cut him off. "Does it work both ways?"

"Probably, but-"

"Good. Then I wanna see Vakaal." Revaramek set his paw on Asterbury's head.

"So be it, Hero." Asterbury smiled under Revaramek's paw. "But don't blame me if you can't find your way back."

Asterbury reached for Revaramek's hand, and electricity surged through the dragon in an agonizing pulse, searing every vein, boiling his blood. Everything flashed white, and then complete darkness consumed him.

The darkness lasted for moments. Or hours. Or years. Revaramek could not tell. For a time, he wasn't even aware there was existence beyond that singular darkness. Eventually, a single pinpoint of light appeared, far above him. The point of light traced a line across reality, leaving a streak of blazing white in its wake. The light turned at a right angle, cutting through infinity itself. Then it turned again, and again, forming a rectangle, like a doorway in the darkness.

The doorway opened, and blinding light streamed through. It snatched at Revaramek like a physical thing, pulled him through the door. Yet behind it was only more darkness. Soon, a new light appeared, a new door was formed, and once more it opened and drew him in. The process repeated, doors in the darkness. Beyond each new doorway was only ever another door.

At last, came something new. Above him shone a single, lonely star, the only one like it. With its light, came sorrow, and sadness. The star was alone, and afraid, with no way out of the dark. The lonely star drifted away from him, and Revaramek followed it deeper into the endless night.

In the distance, another point of blue-white light blinked into existence, far up in the sky. Revaramek wandered after it for time unknown. One by one, moment by moment, stars began to paint the sky. As each star spread across the canvas of night, a little more light shone down upon the world.

For the first time, Revaramek realized there was ground beneath him. Soft, warm, shifting beneath his paws. Sand. A whole ocean of sand, rising and falling in infinite dunes illuminated only by star light. The dragon climbed a few dunes and padded back down, and soon, there was song.

Revaramek followed the music. He'd heard the song before, on the day he should have drowned. Somehow, he knew the melody, knew it's meaning. An ancient song, of a time and a place beyond memory, a song of life, and rebirth. He sang to himself as he climbed another dune. The stars above grew more numerous, brighter and brighter until at last they burst into flame. A thousand fiery suns, each in a different hue, gazing down upon the desert. Yet the heat was pleasant, the light they cast gentle rather than blinding.

In the distance, there was an oasis. Myriad suns glittered in different shades upon the large, blue-green pond. Lush reeds ringed it, along with trees of a sort Revaramek had never seen. They had broad leaves and long, narrow trunks. Clusters of bright red fruit clung to them, just under the leaves at the top. Ruins dotted the sand beyond the desert. Ancient buildings of stone that resembled the place Asterbury put back together all around them. Fallen towers not unlike the one he'd stood in only...moments ago?

Revaramek wasn't sure, anymore. Nearer the oasis itself, more relics of old fortresses lay half buried in the sand. All around them, along the water, were simpler buildings of wood and hides. Some were constructed around trees, others were free standing. There were enough of them there to house an entire village.

But the village was empty.

The only inhabitant was a single young urd'thin, little more than a gray-furred pup. He wore hide breeches, and had a few bone-carved runes woven into his fur. A leather pack leaned up against a tree. A name was stitched across the front of it. Revaramek did not know the language, but he knew what name was spelled out upon it. The pup knelt in the wet sand alongside the oasis, sculpting little houses. He sang to himself as he built a tiny city.

Revaramek sat down near the oasis.

"Hello." The pup spoke, but did not look up from his sand shaping.

"Hello, Vakaal."

The pup giggled at the sound of his name.

"What...what are you building?"

"A new village." The pup eased back, then glanced around at the larger village surrounding them. "This one's empty, now." Sadness weighed down his ears, and hung heavy in his voice. "Everyone's gone. It's lonely here."

Revaramek swallowed, his own ears and frills sagging in sympathy. "I know. I'm...I'm sorry."

The pup smiled at him, blinking away a few unshed tears. "Why? You didn't do it."

"I'm sorry anyway."

"So am I." The pup sighed, and began to sculpt little people out of sand. "Father used to tell me it was my story. And all I ever had to do was change it."

"It was...it was true, wasn't it?" Revaramek licked his muzzle, taking a slow breath. The air smelt clean, and fresh, as if the breeze blowing across the oasis was real, as if he was genuinely there. "It was...his way, I think, of...telling you who you really were. Or...who you came from."

Vakaal swallowed hard, looking away. His tail went limp. "I can't do it, anymore. Not like this." Vakaal circled a finger around one of the tiny sculpted urd'thin. "Not by myself."

"Do what?"

"Build a family. For...for the village." Vakaal picked up one of the figurines. It disintegrated in his hand and the sand scattered in the wind. "I can't make them real, anymore."

"Is...is that what you did...before?"

Vakaal gave him an odd look, half swiveled ears, half dopey grin. "You ask a lot of questions."

"I'm a curious dragon."

"Father tried to save me." Vakaal shrugged, his village of sand melted away into the shoreline. With his hands, he dug fresh wet sand, stacking it together. "I didn't want him to be alone." The pup glanced back at the dragon again, a glimmer of hope shining in his eyes. "Do you think he wants to build with me, now?"

Revaramek furrowed his eyes ridges. "Who, your father?"

Vakaal giggled, a bubbly, joyful sound. "No, silly. You know. The one you're here about." His smile faded, and sorrow flickered in his eyes. He pointed to the sky. "Him."

Revaramek looked up, and the sun went dark. One by one, the stars winked out of existence, and darkness cascaded across the land. Only the single, lonely star remained, faintly glittering just above Vakaal. Asterbury's voice echoed in Revaramek's head

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.

"I tried to get him to stay." Vakaal whined, and the sand rippled around him. "I tried to...to make things better for him. I wanted to fix him!" The pup sniffled, hanging his head. "He's just so...broken. But he made himself a monster, and the monster tore down every star I tried to shine for him, till there was nothing left I could do."

"I know, Vakaal." Revaramek took a deep breath, then let out a long sigh. "It's not your fault."

Revaramek set his paw on the little urd'thin's back, wanting to comfort him. But soon as Revaramek touched him, Vakaal crumbled into sand, and blew away into the darkness. The last, lonely star winked out, and the world was plunged once more into endless night. Revaramek cried out, stumbling away. He still felt the sand beneath his paws, still smelled the desert air, but the dragon may as well have been blind.

"Vakaal?" Revaramek took a few deep breaths, trying to keep calm. What had Asterbury said, about not making it back? "Vakaal? Where are you? I...I don't think...I should be here, alone!"

"Don't worry." The pup's voice was everywhere, now. "I won't let the monster find you. We'll go to my secret place..."

A faint star flickered into being in the distance, shining a single beam of pale blue-white light onto the desert. Revaramek hurried towards it, and saw the light illuminated a sand castle. At first, it looked so small he could have flattened it with a single swipe of his paw. But the closer he drew, the larger the castle became, and brighter the light grew. Soon enough that lonely star became a blue-white sun, and the castle loomed above the dragon. From atop a sand-carved tower, Vakaal waved to him.

In an instant, Revaramek stood atop the tower next to the pup. As his mind struggled to comprehend what was happening, Vakaal signaled for silence. Revaramek forced himself to keep his muzzle shut, trying to suppress all the questions whirling in his brain. The sand beneath his paws was like stone, he scratched at it with claws but could not so much as scrape the surface.

Vakaal took a deep breath, and began to sing. The pup's voice was soft at first, but grew louder and louder with every breath he took. Each note he sang, every phrase and melody, pushed the darkness away from the castle, and birthed a new star in the sky. Vakaal's song grew stronger, his voice louder, and then in a shimmering cascade, the whole world was illuminated in golden light. Beautiful, pure sands stretched as far as Revaramek could see.

Above them, all the vast cosmos was on display. Millions of stars shone and twinkled everywhere he looked. Galaxies twisted in blue-white spirals. Nebulas painted the sky with red-gold clouds in fanciful shapes. Spheres with rings, and blue planets with orbiting moons drifted across his vision. Comets streaked past, some leaking flames in their wake, others left trails of ice. Revaramek blinked, and everything was different, as though in that half-second, the entire universe had shifted around them.

Again, Asterbury's voice lingered in his head, haunted and uncertain.

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.

"Is...this his dream?"

The pup giggled, and answered only with a shrug. "Isn't existence beautiful?"

"It...it really is..." Stunned, and only half able to comprehend what he saw, Revaramek turned his head. All of reality seemed to shift with him, as though the sky were but a window he could point anywhere. In one place, lines of identical looking blue-crystalline spheres stretched on, curving towards infinity. "Are those..."

"Uh huh!" Vakaal giggled again. "They're a story, told again, and again, each a little different than the last. You see..." Vakaal waved his hand at the sky, and existence spun past them in a staggering blur of impossible beauty and color. "It's all part of the great spiral. It expands, infinitely, I think." The pup turned towards the dragon, smiling. "Do you know why they come in cycles, sometimes?"

Revaramek forced himself to tear his gaze away from the depths of the universe, and back to the pup. "I've...no idea."

"Come on." All at once, they were back in the desert. The cosmos was gone, and in its place was a startlingly blue sky, with a singular sun painting the sand gold. Where before infinite stars dotted the sky, now, uncountable sand castles covered the desert, each a little different than the last. They stretched on in all directions in uneven lines, vanishing over the horizon. "Father says the idea of the cycle was to keep life going. So that no matter what happened, or what went wrong, there was always another story to be told, and life would continue."

"Your...father told you that?" Revaramek padded after the urd'thin as Vakaal wandered across the desert, checking in here and there on his castles.

"A long time ago." Vakaal paused to prop up a crumbling tower. "Do you know why Everyone Dies always comes last?"

"I guess because after that, everyone's dead." Revaramek chuckled, glancing at his paws. He didn't want to accidentally step on any of Vakaal's creations. Somehow, he doubted they were only sand castles.

"Yup!" Vakaal giggled and bounced on his toes. He swished his tail. "But it's bigger than that. It's...why the cycle exists, I think. Why he set it into motion."

"Why who--"

"It's why he tried to teach him to let go. You can live among them, or you can guide them, or you can protect them, but you have to make a choice. In the end, the only right thing to do, is to let them decide, or so father thought. So he tried to teach his son to understand that one day, he must let go of all he loves, to let the cycle turn. Because only when everyone dies, can everyone live again." Vakaal paused, and turned back towards Revaramek. "Do you understand?"

Revaramek scrunched his muzzle, flattening back his spines. "I'm...not sure."

"They could not let go, and so the cycle got stuck." Vakaal crouched down, and used a claw tip to scribe little doors and windows into a building made of sand. "It was never meant to be an endless loop. Stories must_end. And that's alright, because when they do end...then a new story could be born, in their place. The cycle, it was meant to bring a beginning, an end, and then to bring a _new beginning, for a new story. Life continues, anew."

The dragon scratched around a missing horn, trying to sort through it all. "So...somehow, they...broke it?"

"The design was always meant to be renewal, not repetition. New life, in a story that ended. But they...forgot who they were. What they were. What they were meant to do. And they refused to let go, until at last, one remembered why the riddle existed, and let the other solve it."

Revaramek paused, cocking his head. "I'm sorry, I...I don't know what that means. Asterbury talked about it, but...Can you...explain that?"

Vakaal smiled, but sorrow flickered in his eyes. "No. I'm sorry, but if I tell you, the monster might find out. You'll understand, someday. But for now, I have to keep the answer hidden from the monster. Like this."

The pup crouched down, tapped a sculpture's window, and suddenly, Revaramek could see inside it, as though it were a real place. Inside the castle was a great, and endless marsh. A hundred or so va'chaak, all in ceremonial robes, bowed before an urd'thin in fanciful clothes. Asterbury. Something looked off about him, though. He looked confused, as if even he did not understand what was happening, or why they bowed.

"He remembers this, but he doesn't know why it happened. Doesn't know why they recognized him." Vakaal hopped to his feet, and once more the sand castle was only that. "I know why. And I know why I cannot let him understand."

The dragon gasped as a sudden realization hit him. "It's you. You're the holes in his memory. You're why he can't remember what that riddle meant. You're..." His eyes widened. "You're why he can't use the gate. You stop him, don't you?"

Vakaal only shrugged. "Father made me pure once, but he did other things, too." The pup turned away, his voice softer now, fearful. "Imagine what the monster could do, if he could go anywhere."

"No, you're right, you can't let him how to do that. But..." Revaramek reached towards Vakaal, then hesitated, unsure what would happen if he touched him again. His paw trembled, and instead he set it down. "He said he's starting to remember things. Are you losing control, here?"

"He's calmer, now. That makes it harder." Vakaal turned towards the dragon, smiling. "Did you know I like to sing?"

"Yes, I did." Revaramek chuckled, shaking his head. "I guess you've always jumped around topics, just like he does."

The pup only giggled. "The monster won't admit it, but he likes it when I sing, too. It touches him, inside." He put a hand upon his chest, ruffling his fur. "In his heart. He almost forgot he had a heart, for a while. So, I sang louder, and louder, to help me hide the things he shouldn't know."

"Like what?"

"His memories." The pup waved at a line of sand castles, all surrounded with tiny moats, and spiky walls. "The dangerous ones, mostly. I always feel guilty, because he wants to remember so badly. He knows he solved the riddle, but he doesn't understand what it means, anymore. When he made himself the monster, I had to hide the truth from him, again. Because if the monster remembered the riddle's answer now?" Vakaal shuddered, his fur bristling. "_Nothing_could ever stop him."

"I thought he knew the answer? He talked about solving it..."

Vakaal nodded, striding between lines of buildings in the sand. "He knows the answer, but he doesn't remember what the answer means. The answer is the truth, and understanding the meaning is...it's like a key. It unlocks what we really are. So, I keep that knowledge hidden, along with so many other things."

"So are these..." Revaramek lifted his head, gazing across the horizon. He could not even begin to count the sand castles, and just like the planets he earlier saw in the sky, they stretched on forever. Each time he shifted his gaze, the castles seemed to reorganize themselves. Different structures, different arrangements. "Are these all...hidden memories?"

"Not all of them." Vakaal pivoted, and the whole world turned with him, presenting an entirely new and equally endless set of sculptures in the sand. Castles, villages, cities, people, even worlds. "Some of them are stories, or cycles."

Before Revaramek could even come to grips with that concept, Vakaal danced a few steps through the sand, and all of existence danced with him. Castles bobbed and weaved, dunes rose and fell, the sky shone and dimmed, and soon Vakaal stood upon a hill, overlooking a valley with yet more fortresses built from the desert itself.

Vakaal rubbed his hands together, giggling to himself. "Did you know, the va'chaak thought it was him! They must look so alike, now. But as soon as they told him, I had to hide that, too. And sometimes he remembers her face, his first love. And he remembers where he took his new name, but he doesn't truly remember why, or what he meant to do with it. What he hoped to accomplish after. Someday...someday he will, though."

"I hope you don't expect me to keep up with--"

"You see, the monster is rage and sorrow." Vakaal spun back towards the dragon, and the world rippled around them. The sculptures in the sand all melted away, and once more, they stood on the shore of an oasis, in the middle of an empty, desolate village. "So I used that anger and grief to help obscure the truths he was never meant to know. But he's calmer, now. He's starting to remember. In his growing tranquility, he's starting to find things he didn't even know he was looking for. He's filling in the holes, and he doesn't even know it. But...but maybe that means..." Vakaal waved his hand at the empty, uninhabited buildings. A strange sort of hopefulness slipped into his voice. "Maybe he's ready." He bounced on the balls of his feet, giggling. "Do you think he'll build with me now?"

Stars flickered into being, shining even in the daytime sky. Revaramek glanced up at them, and when he looked back at Vakaal, the pup was gone. The dragon turned around, but all he saw now was drifting sand, illuminated by starlight.

"I don't know. But, you know why I'm here, right?"

"Uh huh." Vakaal's voice drifted over him like a cool breeze, quelling the desert heat. "You want to help your family. Just like me."

"That's right." Revaramek pivoted on his paws, looking everywhere. When he turned around again, the oasis was dry, and broken bones littered the crack earth where water once lingered. All the buildings were crumbling. "Where...did you go?"

"Everywhere." The voice rolled across the sand, a whisper of thunder that rattled the dunes. "I want to help, too. I want to help him put things back together. He's always been so angry, but anger never helps us heal." The sky darkened, and the sand grew colder beneath his paws. A single, lonely star drifted just above him, flickering in time with Vakaal's voice. "He's lost, in the darkness he brought upon himself. But if he'd let me, I'd paint him the stars anew, to shine for him, and guide him home."

"Then you know where he needs to go, right? Where I have to send him? If I...if I do this..." Revaramek tilted his head back, staring up the star. It grew, and grew, until it was all he could see. "What you call the monster...can you shackle it?"

"If this works? I won't have to."

"Vakaal..." Revaramek squinted against the ever-growing starlight. "That's...not good enough. Wherever we send him, I have to know. Can you keep him there, forever?"

"I can try. But he needs a song to follow..."

"Can you sing it?"

Vakaal giggled, and the sound was happiness that echoed through the dragon's bones. "I always sing to him, but he so rarely listens anymore." The giggle faded. "I know where he needs to go, but I can't promise he'll follow the music."

"I understand." Revaramek closed his eyes, and let out a long sigh. "It's...the only chance we've got, I think. Tell me, is Asterbury right? Is this the only way Korakos survives?"

"It's your son's story, now." The starlight twisted, and grew into sharp angles. A doorway in the darkness. "All he ever has to do is tell it. Goodbye, Revaramek. Thank you for being kind to me. Thank you, for calling my name, and being the star that guided me home when I was lost..."

"Wait, I need to know--"

The doorway opened, and Revaramek awoke to cackling. Had he been asleep? He remembered everything, from the timeless, infinite void, to the doors within doors within the darkness, and the vast cosmos Vakaal showed him. Though he was certain he'd talked to the pup for a long time, when he awoke it seemed he'd only been gone for seconds at most.

"That's your plan? That's your big, important condition you're imposing?" Asterbury swatted his paw away from his head, laughing. "Fine, I'll go there. In fact, I'll be happy to." A snarl twisted his voice, and blue sparks fluttered around him.

"What?"

Revaramek shifted away from the furry madman. Aylaryl gazed up in confusion at the gate. Revaramek turned towards it, and saw that the silver key stones had already settled into coordinates. Many of them displayed symbols he didn't understand. Some of them looked like warnings, in bright red. Others looked like dates. Still more were unfamiliar, secondary coordinates alongside odd sigils. Whatever they meant to the storytellers who built the gate, they were meaningless to the dragon. But in the center, the stones that indicated which world and which version of it displayed symbols he absolutely understood.

1-A.

"Weren't you going to ask Vakaal?" Asterbury waved at the symbols, beaming. A concussive thud shook the whole tower when the gate opened, an infinite black line drawn to the crystalline dome, a chasm-like tunnel wreathed in crackling, azure lightning. "This is perfect!"

"I...I did ask Vakaal." Revaramek stared at the world designation. "But I didn't tell the gate yet. Vakaal must have, or...it must have sensed what he wanted, through me."

"Well, no take backs!" Asterbury clapped his hands, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "The home of the storytellers it is!"

Aylaryl hissed at him, nudging him with her muzzle. "I thought...I thought we were done with this?"

Asterbury grimaced. "And when I end them where they began, we _will_be. I mean look at it, Aylaryl!" The urd'thin thrust a finger at the gate. "If even Vakaal wants us to go there, it's a sign. A sign I'm meant to end them after all."

Revaramek took a few steps back from the gate, lowering his head. "I don't think that leads where you think it does."

Aylaryl turned her head to give Revaramek a long look. "What are you talking about?"

"Has Asterbury ever told you how the worlds are designated? Why his world was 3? It was the third place they tried to inhabit. And the first time they realized there's more than one version of every world. Which means-"

"Which means that 1-A is the original home of the Storytellers." Asterbury picked up the pack and slung it over his back.

Aylaryl stared down at him, her spines flattened in worry. "But didn't they ruin that world?"

"They ruined damn near every world." Asterbury clacked his teeth. "But not so badly as they couldn't keep sending people out from there. We're gonna find whatever enclave they've got left, and then-"

"But what do we do when it's over?" Aylaryl glanced at the gate, her tail coiling around a hind leg. "If it's ruined, we-"

"We build ourselves whatever paradise we want!" Asterbury took a step towards the gate, then tapped his head, just below a horn. "Sooner or later, all those holes are going to be filled in, and I'm going to remember how to open gates myself. Hell...maybe I won't even need a gate, to show you my desert."

Aylaryl gave a whimper, licking her muzzle. She looked at Revaramek, and he gazed back at her, impassive.

"Don't look at me." He flicked a claw at Asterbury. "Somewhere in that twisted knot of tangled insanity, there's a very lonely pup. And wherever this gate truly leads? That's where Vakaal wants him to go. What happens there is...well, it's up to you two."

"So it is, Hero." Asterbury strode towards the gate, close enough for it to start pulling at him. His fur wavered, and his purple tailcoat billowed around him, tugged towards the gateway. "You've been a worthy nemesis, and--"

"I hope I never see you again, Asterbury." Revaramek glowered at him, then smirked. "But tell Vakaal he's welcome to visit anytime."

The urd'thin snorted. "Will do. Remember what I told you." He thrust a finger at the gate. "After we go through...set it back to 1-N. Go to the marsh, and wait for your family. Don't try and go home, because you'll never make it. As difficult as it is, this is how you save your son. But the choice is yours, now. Goodbye, Hero." Asterbury gave him a deep bow, and then beckoned for Aylaryl. "Shall we, my dear?"

Aylaryl took a few trembling steps forward. Asterbury waited for her.

Revaramek glanced at Asterbury one last time. "Goodbye, Vakaal." Revaramek lashed out with a paw and shoved Asterbury into the gate.

The urd'thin gave a startled cry. "You son of a-"

The rest of his curse was swallowed up by the gateway. It rippled, blue and black, and a deep, rumbling thud left the whole tower shaking. In the distance, the swirling clouds undulated. More clouds erupted from nowhere, circling around a flash of searing light that pierced the sky. A deep, resonating thump rattled Revaramek's chest.

When the sound and the shuddering force faded, Aylaryl hesitated. She swallowed, her silver-white eyes trembling as she gazed at Revaramek. "Where am I really going?"

Revaramek flexed his wings, sighing. He stretched his neck, pressing his nose to hers. "I don't know, Aylaryl. But it won't be what Asterbury thinks. You don't have to go, if you don't want to. I'll send you back to the marsh, if you prefer. Or anywhere else you want to go."

Aylaryl rested her muzzle against his. "That's kind of you, but I could never let him go alone. Without him, there's nothing left for me in the marsh but pain. I don't really care where we're going anymore, as long as we're there together."

"Then I'm glad you found someone, Aylaryl. And as crazy as that furry little nutball is, he loves you. Wherever you end up, he'll keep you safe. Just...whatever comes next?" Revaramek stared into her eyes, his ears back. "Promise me you'll try to pull him out of the darkness now, not push him deeper into it."

"So be it, Rev."

"Thank you. Before you go, I..." Revaramek closed his eyes. He lifted a paw and gently stroked Alyaryl's neck. "I'm sorry I didn't treat you better, when we were younger. And I'm sorry you felt...betrayed. I never meant to hurt you like that."

"Thank you." Aylaryl sniffled, nuzzling him. "I should have treated you better, too. We both made a lot of mistakes."

"You made more." Revaramek opened his eyes, giving her a hint of a grin.

"You're an idiot." Aylaryl smiled back at him, then nipped his nose.

Revaramek grunted, pulling his head back. "I'd also like to apologize that things didn't..." He took a breath, and let it out slow. "Work out the way you wanted them to. For us, I mean."

Aylaryl put her paw on his cheek, cupping his green scales. "Life...rarely leads us down the path we hope it will. And if it had worked out for you and me, I'd have never found Asterbury, and..."

"Then he'd have just raged and destroyed the marsh?"

"I was going to say who knows what might have happened to him then, but...yes, something like that." Aylaryl caressed his cheek, and Revaramek leaned his head into her touch, his breath trembling. "You know, if you'd told me it was your mother? That...that you were keeping your word to her, not the village..."

"Keeping my word to the village was keeping my word to my mother."

"Stubborn to the very end."

"No one would recognize me otherwise."

Aylaryl heaved a sigh, shaking her head. "I wouldn't have called you a traitor, if I knew it was your mother you were so insistent on keeping your word to. So...I'm sorry, too. For all of it. I think the only real traitor here is me."

Revaramek shrugged his wings. "We both did what we thought was right at the time."

The purple dragon tilted her head, smiling. "You must have one hell of a wise mate rubbing off on you." She put a finger on his muzzle. "No jokes. But you sure as hell weren't this wise before we came to the swamp."

Laughing, Revaramek gave her paw a gentle lick. "You should go before your boyfriend gets jealous. I hear he's the crazy sort."

"That's the rumor." She eased back, tilting her head. "I'd consider kissing you goodbye, but I doubt your mate would appreciate that."

Revaramek smiled, and shook his head. "She would not."

Aylaryl bowed her head, and trudged towards the gate. "I know it will be...hard for you, Revaramek. But if you do what Asterbury says, I promise you'll see your family again. He showed me. You just...have to hang on, till then."

"I will...do what I think is best." Revaramek gulped, and returned her bow. "Thank you for your friendship, when we young. I don't know what awaits you, so...good luck, Aylaryl."

"Thank you." Aylaryl stared at him for a few long moments, her silver-white eyes wet and shining. "Good luck to you too, Revaramek. May you see your family again sooner than you expect."

And then in a brilliant, blue-white flash, she was gone. Once again, the tower trembled and the sky was pieced. When everything was quiet once more, Revaramek approached the gate on shaking paws. It reached out to him, posing the only question it ever asked.

Where?

Revaramek stared at the gate, wondering how many versions of this moment were being lived right now. Just him, or were there others? If the others all died in the swamp, then...then the choice was his alone. He had to make the right decision. His heart thundered in his chest, his paws all went cold. Again, the gate asked its solitary query.

Where?

"Forgive me, Nyra. Please, please, forgive me."

Where?

Revaramek answered.

*****

Thank you for reading. If you've enjoyed, please click the FAVE button, and leave a comment with your thoughts on the latest developments and crazy happenings.