FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

*****

Chapter Eighty Five

*****

Korakos hung limp from his mother's jaws as she bound up the stairs. With her every step, he bobbled back and forth beneath her head, paws tucked up against his body. She reached the top floor in moments, only to skid to a halt in the bright blue light shed by the spinning rings. Mother backed away, a hind paw slipping against the top step. She caught her balance with claws scratching at the stone.

"It woke up when I touched it!" The little dragon rarely spoke up when mother carried him this way, but if she feared the ring thing and carried him away, they might never get to their new home. "Is it mad at me?"

Mother gingerly set the hatchling down and released him. She licked her jaws and lifted her head as he got his paws back under himself. "You did this?"

"I dunno!" Korakos whined, and shook his paw, his pad still hurt.

"What...what did you do it it?" Mother glanced down at him. The blue light left her copper-bronze eyes shining with an eerie glow.

"I dunno!" The hatchling whined, shaking himself. His belly was like roots in the swamp, all tangled and unsteady. "Did I break it? I'm sorry!" He whined, and nuzzled at his mother's paw.

"No, no, love, no..." Mother stroked his head, her breath coming in shallow pants. "You...I...I don't know how but...the book!" She jerked her head up. "I have to get the book! Stay here." Mother pointed at the rings and their shining, spiraling lights. "Do not go near that!"

Just as quickly as she'd ascended, mother vanished right back down the stairway that ran around the outside of the tower. Korakos rarely saw his mother move so fast. Only on the first day of their trip, when she came to save him from the crawling thorn-vines. He hoped running so fast wouldn't leave her too worn out. The hatchling whined as he waited, worried for his mother. He shifted his weight, leaning onto his other forepaw to spare his injured pads.

Through cracks and holes in the stone, and the shattered crystal dome above him, the sounds of raging water grew louder. The stone vibrated beneath his paws, as if all the swamp was angry, and ready to unleash its fury against the only human thing left standing in a world where their kind were long forgotten.

Korakos trotted towards a hole in the wall. Mother told him not to go near the rings, but she didn't say he couldn't go anywhere else. When he reached the broken stone, he peered outside. The water was higher now, boiling and frothing. Waves crashed against the sides of the tower, pouring water into old chambers. Each black wave struck the walls higher than the last. All the stone spires and slabs out in the swamp were gone, submerged beneath the churning swamp. Pale, slimy creatures with myriad tendrils and bloated bodies clung to tree tops and boughs. Dead trees cracked and went under, unable to withstand the surging currents.

Down below him, more creatures scuttled and slithered up the tower. Thorn-vines wrapped around broken stolen, dragging bulging bodies behind them. Swamp crabs clambered over battered stone in gray-shelled waves. Where the waters lashed at the tower, massive tentacles larger than any he'd ever seen emerged from the water. Thee mottled, gray-black appendages curled against the stone, digging in with the claws that tipped them. Water ran off the spiny carapace of the creature they belonged too, black eyes shifted and glinted in the moon light. Some of its eyes settled on the hatchling, staring down at it, and the creature moved, scaling the tower.

"Get away from there!"

Before he even had time to comply, Mother ran over to him and snatched him in a foreleg. She spun away from the hole in the stone, and dropped him back on the floor. The pack she carried with them throughout their journey lay on the floor, the book she brought him as a present protruded from it. No sooner had she put him down than mother spun back around towards the hole in the stone, her roar shaking the chamber around them.

"You cannot have him!" Mother sucked in a breath, and spat fire through the opening, chasing back the clawed tendrils. "You took everything from me! From us! But I will not let you take him!"

The whole tower lurched. Korakos stumbled, scrabbling at the floor. The book slid away. Mother pivoted towards him, catching the book in a paw. All around them, the swamp's creatures poured in through holes in the stone. Tendriled things slunk through larger gaps or fell in through the broken dome. Clawed tentacles slithered through crevices, feeling around. Mother batted aside a crab-like thing that scuttled too close, then scythed a slinking fang-worm in half with her tail fan. It snapped long teeth, wriggled and spouting ichor across the floor.

"Now!" Mother nudged him closer to the rings, throwing the book open. "It has to be now! But...what do we do?" She jerked her head up, staring at the spinning silver stones. Each had many sides, and each side flashed another squiggly marking. "They're...symbols. Oh, Gods, what did he call it? It had a name, a number in their tongue." She lashed at the book with her paws, tearing pages. "What was their symbol for 1? He showed me, gods, what was it?"

The tower lurched again, hard enough to knock Korakos off his feet. He landed on his side, skidding. Mother grabbed him, bracing herself against the increasingly slanted stone. The book slide away. Clutching Korakos to her chest plates, Mother went after it. She planted a forepaw upon the tattered pages, then unleashed fire on a tree-turtle sliding towards them, bright, warning colors flashing across its poisoned tendrils. Her fire seared away the dangerous parts of it and Mother shifted, letting the burning body tumble past them.

With the tower leaning, Mother dug her claws into cracks in the stone to maintain her purchase, moving towards the rings. Their blue light shone brighter than ever, as if trying to warn the dragons they were out of time. As they neared it, something unseen brushed Korakos. The feeling made him shiver, like spider webbing across his wings, a tickle across his heart. Mother settled him in the crook of a foreleg, paging through the book again.

"Where is it? What was the symbol?" She gasped, jubilant if only for a moment. "That's it! That's their sigil for 1! What was the other part...he scribed it for me...two vertical lines, one angled line...yes! How...how..." The excitement in her voice died away to confusion, and fear. "How do we set it?" She clutched Korakos tighter, hissing at the rings. "I thought we'd have time to figure you out!" Then she turned her gaze back to the book. "It has to be in here, somewhere-"

The tower pitched, and everything went sideways. Black water poured in through the holes. Mother screamed, clutching Korakos in one foreleg, bracing herself against the stone. Water caught the book and washed it out of reach. She yowled, stretching for it, but it vanished beneath the swirling eddies and gray foam.

"No! Noooooo!"

Everything shuddered, and little by little, the tower tilted over. Cracks spread through the stone. Crystal shattered and cascaded to the floor in sharp-edged rain. Mother shielded Korakos, snarling as jagged bits cut her wings. Water lapped at her paws, swirled around the stone base of the rings. Even as the tower began to crumple around them, the rings continued to spin, the blue light still shone, and the strange feeling probed at his brain. It wanted something.

"I'm sorry, Kor!" Mother hugged him to her chest, crying. "I'm so sorry! I failed you, and...now I to get us out of here, get us into the sky, or..."

"Momma!" Korakos wriggled, pointing at the rings, even as the water rose. "It wants something!"

"What?" Mother jerked her head back. The tower trembled all around them. "How...how did you...turn it on?"

"It touched it! And then it touched my brain and it felt funny and I think it wants something and I'm scared momma!" Korakos gulped, tilting his head back to gaze at the ceiling, no longer pointing completely at the sky. Most of the crystal was gone. "Fly, momma!"

Mother stared at him, her eyes shining, her jaw trembling. "Kor...what does it want?"

"I...I dunno..." Korakos whined. Tingly water tickled his paws.

Yet, just thinking about the question seemed to be enough to coalesce the answer in his brain. He gazed at the blue light, and everything started to freeze. The indigo sparks slowed their whirling, the spinning rings ebbed down to a lazy pace.

Where?

Where? The hatchling whimpered again. Where what?

"Where?" He spoke the word as a single, breathy syllable, trying to sort it out in his head.

Mother gasped, pushing through rising water, fighting against gravity, towards the now slanted rings. "Tell it, Kor! Tell it where you want to go! Anywhere, Kor, tell it anywhere! Tell it where you want us to go!"

There was only one place Kor ever wanted to go. A place he thought of every day. A place he told himself stories of.

"Where the clean water is!" Korakos stretched his paw towards the rings. "Where Father is!"

The unseen thing seized something in his brain, seized his answer, and everything returned to full speed. The silver rings clicked into position, frozen in place. The azure spiral inside everything erupted into an endless black tunnel, piercing through the world itself. Lightning crackled all along it. An immense, soundless, concussive force erupted from the gateway. It pushed all the water back in an instant without touching the dragons, and for one, single moment, their path was clear.

Mother leapt, and the tower collapsed into the swamp.

*****

In the smothering darkness, the hatchling could not breathe. Unbearable heat seared him, he feared every scale would burn away. When he tried to scream, that cold that filled his lungs froze his voice. The same cold clutched his body, chilled his bones. Fire scorched him to his heart even as his blood froze in his veins. And through it all, there was nothingness. A vast, empty void, an infinite blackness that stretched on forever. The swamp and its dark water were gone, the myriad pinpoint lights of the beautiful were vanished.

Mother had carried then through the portal, and after a blinding flash, they were cast adrift into emptiness.

Mother.

She was still with him. Korakos felt her forelimbs around him. She clutched him, tight and protective, but offered no comforting words. She was still, perfectly still. Was she even breathing? Was he? Korakos tried to suck in a breath, but his lungs remained immobilized. A sickening lurch twisted his belly. Were they dead? Was this death? Would they see father here, if it was?

No, because Korakos did not believe Father was dead, no matter what mother said.

How long had they floated here?

The young dragon struggled to focus, struggled to draw his memories together even as they drifted farther and farther apart. He was certainly mother had only just leapt into the rings moments ago, and yet he felt as if he'd been here, hurtling through an empty existence for years now. Even the image, the memory of the tower's collapse was slipping out of his grasp now.

In its place, came a thousand other memories, more than he ever knew he had. Water and mud, swamp crab and screechbirds. A string of days alongside his mother, and in each memory she was a little skinnier, a little paler. He tried to help make her strong, tried to get her to eat more, but when all his memories lay in a line, her detoriation was achingly clear. She flashed through his head, sturdy and bright and vibrant, images he'd never seen in his head in many years.

Then laughter. A smile.

His father.

A memory he knew only from his dreams, a forgotten glimpse of a smile, the lingering echo of laughter.

There was a muddy hill. Their home. Father was there. Standing between him and the dark water, before he knew why he could not play in it. Father wouldn't him in. Another image flashed through his mind, so vivid, so real he could smell his father's scent. He pounced on the older dragon's tail spines, scratched at the webbing. Then another memory of his father, and another, a cascade of images from a time he could not possibly remember. Laughter and happiness, eating from his father's paw, climbing on his back, traveling with him to places of moss and stone. Then he lay between Mother and Father, half asleep and gazing up at his parents. They nuzzled each other, and mother laughed and laughed, such a beautiful sound. She was so...

Joyful.

Momma rarely looked so happy anymore.

The hatchling struggled to reach for his parents, grasping at them in his memory. But in reality, he could not move his paw, and in his mind, they dissolved into a swirl of green mist and smoke, vanished back into the ether. A thousand more memories followed them, and none of them seemed right. Sometimes Father was still there, even as Korakos grew. They were happy and yet he knew it was wrong. In others, he was alone. Mother had gone looking for Father, and never returned. In another, he was in the water...sinking. Screams in the distance, muffled by the water. He tried to call out to them, but the water filled him.

Do you remember me?

A voice drifted through his head, and with it, another memory came, different than before. He stood on a large piece of land, near a stone wall, staring up at a being unlike anything he'd ever seen. Taller than him, but much smaller than Father. Standing on two legs. Covered in gray fur. Little horns, big ears. Smiling down at him. Something strange and unknowable in the creature's eyes, as dark and infinite as the void the gates cast them into. Words drifted through his mind. At the time, he didn't understand them, wasn't old enough to understand them. But they settled in his mind, in his subconscious, just the same. Now they came again, a memory he somehow knew he'd forget just as quickly as he remembered it.

Don't worry. One day, you'll find your way home.

Remember! Your father is alive, waiting, where the clean water is.

It's all your story, now. All you ever have to do is tell it...

Don't worry.

I won't let you turn out like me...

After that, Father was there, angry and terrified and pulling Korakos away. Even in the memory, he didn't know why. Father's fear frightened him, too, but the strange creature did not. He knew, somehow, that the furry thing did not mean him harm, just as he knew, somehow, that father had reason to fear it.

Now, the voice from his memory returned anew, somehow in his head and all around him, all at once.

You do_remember me._

I knew you would.

I knew you'd find your way here.

Now you only need to remember...

Star's Blessing. When the time is right, you'll remember it, and you'll help him save her...

Star's Blessing.

Till then, I have a gift, for you. It will keep you safe, and guide you, unto the very end of this.

All at once, there was light, brilliant, and eternal. As if every star in the sky shone, just for him, uncountable gentle suns filling him with warmth, and light. It poured through him like his mother's love, calming him, strengthening him. With the light came song, a solitary voice singing somewhere in his head. Then, just as quickly, the light withdrew, leaving just a trace of its impossible brilliance, deep in his heart. Even the memory of it faded till once more, he was wreathed only in darkness, and his mother's arms.

The darkness shattered in an azure spiral, a million fragments of nothingness spinning away, dissolving into a brilliant blue expanse. They pierced a sky brighter blue than Korakos had ever known. Mother's grip tightened around him as a new world came into being below. A sprawling landscape of green trees and water, shining blue with the sky's cloudless reflection. A whole world glimpsed in an instant, then focused into a single location. Lines of stone rising from the water, encircling other lines of stone, strange designs fixed around a structure topped with a glimmering crystal dome.

Korakos and his mother toppled across the hard floor of the gate chamber, and all his strange memories were gone as quickly as they'd come. For all the time he spent in the void, lost in his thoughts, wrapped in fire and ice, it now seemed only a moment ago that the tower was crumbling around them, and mother carried him into the impossible tunnel to another world.

Mother held him safe as she tumbled to a stop. She gasped, and burst into a coughing fit. When Korakos took a breath, he did the same thing. The air that filled his lungs felt strange, cooler, thinner, and his body was not prepared for it. Mother's body shook against him as she coughed, and he clutched at her forelimbs while he did the same. Each time Korakos wheezed in another breath, it left him coughing again. He felt like one of the fish he sometimes saw washed out of the water, flopping about and unable to breathe on the surface world. The little dragon's head swam, motes of light dotted his vision.

Gradually, his lungs adjusted. His vision remained blurry, and his head felt funny and light, but at least he stopped coughing. Once he was able, he took a few deep breaths. For the first time, he noticed the strange, sweet taste of the air. He twisted free of his mother's grasp, and as her coughing slowed, she looked him over, nudging him with her muzzle.

"Are you..." She coughed again, then took a slow breath, examining him. "Hurt?"

"No..." Korakos shook his head, then stepped back to look his mother over. "Are you?" He looked back towards her wings, hoping she hadn't hurt them in the...well, how had they gotten here? Everything suddenly seemed jumbled up in his head. "Are you hurt, Momma? Is your wings hurt?"

Mother lifted her horned head, peering back at her own wings. She stretched each wing out, flexing them. A few bloody scratches marked the pale green membranes, but other than that they did not look injured. "No...I'm...okay, I think." She pushed herself up, testing and flexing her paws and tail. "I'm alright...I'm alright. Where...are we?"

The hatchling scrunched his muzzle. That was a good question. He was certain he should know, and yet with his brains all scrambled up he wasn't sure. At first, he couldn't even remember there they'd been a few minutes ago, let alone how they ended up somewhere else. He trotted away from his mother, peering around. They were in a big cave, from the looks of it. At one end, the whole cave dissolved away into impossibly bright light. He tilted his head back, and found a crystalline dome capped the rounded ceiling. He...remembered something like that, before. Only last time it had holes. Maybe someone fixed this one.

Behind him, his mother turned around, staring at the black and silver twisting inside the stone arch. Indigo sparks whirled around it, and the rings' motion slowed with every rotation. Squiggly symbols on two of the silver stones...they meant something. He licked his muzzle, trying to force the broken pieces of his mind back together. Not all the pieces seemed to fit right anymore, but he was certain...they had...

"We made it..." Mother's voice was a trembling whimper. "We...we made it..." She lifted a forepaw, staring at it as if she'd only just realized it was part of her body. "We're...alive. This...this is..." She set her paw down and turned towards him. "This is...it's not..."

Since Mother didn't seem to remember how to make enough words to talk, Korakos padded away from her. Her brains must be all scrambled too, he thought. He decided to give her some time to make her mind work again. Maybe by then, he'd remember how they got here, and...why they came here in the first place. He licked his muzzle, thirsty.

"I'll find water, Momma!"

He gave a little chirp, and padded towards the bright light. He was sure there had to be some clean water around somewhere. The last time he saw one of those big ring things, there had been clean water down below. He paused a moment, thinking. Hadn't they...just...been there? Korakos shook his head, trying to clear the sticky webs that cluttered his mind.

As he drew near the light, its brightness hurt his eyes. He squinted and turned his head away, waiting for them to adjust. Even when his eyes had adjusted, the light still left them aching. He'd never seen anything so bright before. Even the memory of mother's flame seemed dull compared to the light of this place. At least adjustment allowed him to see into the bright area, and it no longer looked as if the sunshine was erasing the world beyond the little cave.

Sunlight.

That was what the light reminded him of. Yet the sun back home was never so bright. What could it be? Still squinting, he padded through the exit of the cave. Mother called out, told him not to wander off, but he continued anyway. He wasn't wandering off, he was looking for water.

As soon as he went outside, the scent of it hit him like blow across his muzzle. The smell of clean water was so sharp it almost hurt. He jerked his head back, half expecting rain, even with a bright, blue sky. Korakos glanced up through slitted eyes, staring at the sky. He'd never seen it so blue before. Nor had he ever seen it from the ground. Where they on a flying island? He took a few steps down the mossy trail. Stone walls rose around the place, some of them broken, crumbling, and wreathed in unfamiliar vines. But beyond the edge of land were not clouds, but water.

Clear, clean water, as far as he could see.

In an instant, it all hit him. All the puzzle pieces in his mind snapped together, and he squealed, a shrill sound of pure delight, when he realized where they were.

"MOMMA!" Korakos shrieked her name, bouncing on his paws. "MOMMA!" Without waiting for her, he charged down the mossy bank, skidding to a stop at the edge. He lowered his head, sniffing the water. It smelted cleaner, fresher, better even than the rare drinkable rains that fell across the swamp. Before he could stop himself, he waded out into the water. It sloshed around him, cool and gentle. It did not make him tingle. He pushed his muzzle to the surface, and lapped it up. It was sweet, and purer even than the water that trickled through the rocks of their cave.

"Korakos!" Mother charged out after him, half-blind in the light. "What's wrong? What is it?"

"Momma, look!" Korakos slapped the water with a paw, then giggled like mad as he dashed back and forth, droplets spraying in his wake. "It's clean, it's clean!"

"Kor!" Mother snarled, a sound that always meant he'd better do as she said, right away. "Don't play in that! Get out of that...water..." Her anger vanished in an instant, her voice trembling, uncertain. She took a few steps closer, staring at him. "It...it's real..."

"Momma!" Korakos bounced in place, then waded back up to shore. "Momma, we made it!"

Mother lowered her head to him. She sniffed him, uncertainty shining in her copper-bronze eyes. Then she licked a few lingering droplets from his scales, and sucked in a breath. Tears bloomed in her eyes, and her whole body shuddered. She nudged him with her nose, then went to the edge of the water. She sniffed it, and tears spilled down her muzzle. Mother drank from it, and cried a little more.

"We made it...This is...this is what he always told me about..." She sniffed, fighting back a sob as she gazed around. "He said the whole place is...like this...clean. Not poisoned. This is...where he came from..."

"It's Father's home?"

Unable to speak, Mother just nodded, sniffling. On trembling paws, she walked the shoreline a little way. Korakos followed at her side, wondering why she was crying. Now that his memories were working again, he thought she should be happy they made it here safe. But now she seemed like that beautiful, strange song she sang to him on their journey. As if she was somehow sad about being joyful.

A trail of square stones down the shore lead to several large flat wooden things, and a big block of stone with pictures on it. Funny looking trees provided respite from the sun's searing brightness. Mother walked up to the stone block, and dragged her paw across the images inscribed atop it. Her paw drifted downwards, and then she sucked in a startled, ragged gasp, staring at the bottom of the table. In the corner, a smiling dragon was inscribed, surrounded by books.

"Rev..." Mother's voice was nothing more than a single, broken sob. She fought for breath, tears streaming down her muzzle. "It's...it's all real...it was _always_real..."

Rev. He knew that name, though Mother never spoke if it she thought he was listening.

"It's Father..."

"It's your father. Everything he told me..." Mother collapsed at the base of the tablet, curling up. "All the stories, all his heroics here...they're all true..."

"Father was a hero?"

"Father was a hero..." Mother pulled Korakos up against her scales, shaking as she cried. "And his stories...his...resplendent stories...led us home." She buried her muzzle against him, her ears wet and hot against his wings. "We're home now, Kor. We're home."

Unable and unwilling to fight back her tears any longer, Mother curled herself around Korakos, and cried herself to sleep beneath a carving of his father.

*****

Chapter Eighty Six

*****

Vakaal wandered.

For year, after lonely year, Vakaal roamed from world to world.

He lost track of the places he'd been, and the things he'd done. After the fifth or so world he visited, he stopped counting. One world he roamed was as empty and barren as the wastelands back home. An endless, rocky land inhabited only by insects and small, scurrying things. After days roaming it, his lonely sorrow cast him out, across the void once more. Another world was caked in endless ice, and another, a hot, smothering jungle.

The years passed, and slowly he grew. Over time, he gave up hope of ever returning to his desert. After he knew now that even if he ever found his home, it would not be the same anymore. The desert was gone, the tribe was gone, Father was gone. There was nothing left for him to return to, anyway.

As time went on, Father walked at his side, and spoke in his head less and less. Vakaal tried to tell himself he'd only been shaping Father into temporary being, anyway. Just to keep himself company. The pup swore to himself that he just didn't need Father's help, anymore. But in his heart, he feared that wasn't true. In his heart, Vakaal feared he was losing track of what was real, what was memory, and what merely dream, shaped into reality.

Some days, Vakaal struggled to tell which of the fragmented memories in his head were truly_his own. He clung to his happiest, most vibrant moments, in the hopes that they were truly _his. He wanted to remember his life, to recall _his_father, and what set him on this path.

But it was difficult. Sometimes he dreamed of someone else's memories. Saw himself as a pup, sobbing, felt his father's pain. He always woke from those nightmares with screams, and tears. Some days, when he first awoke from such terrifying visions, he could not remember who he was, anymore. Was he the father, or was he the pup?

He found himself thinking the same thoughts, remembering the same things, like an obsession he could not drop. A cycle of memories, and each time he remembered them, they were slightly different until he could not remember which was real. Sometimes, he struggled just to put his mind back together after arriving in a new world. He repeated things to himself, thought them over and over, trying to sear them forever into his mind. Trying to make them real.

He was Vakaal.

He was Vakaal.

He was Vakaal.

Most of the time, it helped.

Most of the time.

Over the years, the pup practiced with his shaping, honing it like a fine tool. He understood now, why father feared to tell him that they were gods. His powers, if unchecked, could do anything, and without careful, measured control, he could have wrecked entire worlds, just as the Storytellers did. So Vakaal practiced. In populated areas, he practiced cautiously, ever careful not to harm anyone innocent by mistake. In the process, he how to wield his shaping, how to manipulate even the greatest of powers with the finest of touches.

When he found himself in barren, desolate areas, or in lifeless planes of existence, he took to trying to create his own gateways between worlds. Vakaal remembered all too clearly what happened the first time he'd inadvertently blasted himself out of one world, and into another. He feared, that first time, he had shattered the sky itself. That was not the last time that fury or sorrow took control, and hurled him across the void between worlds, but at least since then, such transitions had not been so violent.

But it was not a risk Vakaal wanted to take. So whenever he found himself in a place without lives to risk, he tried to open gates. He imagined the barrier akin to a pane of glass. If his uncontrolled exit was a hammer, shattering that glass, then instead he had to build a tiny door. Something he could open and close at will, without causing any damage. The visualization helped, and it gave Vakaal something to strive towards, while he wandered. Something to focus his mind on, and keep himself sane.

With his attempts, came distance, faded memories, like looking at pictures through smudged windows. He head the whisper of his father's voice, felt the gentle warmth of his touch, and his guiding hand. Somewhere in the past, long before Vakaal was born, Father had built doorways, too.

Doors, in doors, in the darkness.

So that was what Vakaal built. A doorway, forged of shining light, that could lead him anywhere. All Vakaal ever had to do, was tell his powers where to take him.

"No more wandering," Vakaal said, the day he stood before his doorway for the first time. He fed it with his shaping, and light spilled across him as it opened. "Time to set things right. Take me to the Storytellers."

*****

Vakaal sprinted up the side of a great, crystalline tower, one of many. A shattered castle smoldered beneath him. After months of studying the storytellers here in this strange, alien world, he had at least revealed himself. The battle that resulted was exhilarating, all the more so because they truly thought they could win. Bit by bit, Vakaal tore their palace away from the crystal strands suspending it, and cast its ruin to the valley below. Their three Grand Historians fled to their gate-tower.

They always did.

Sometimes they sought escape, other times, a desperate plea for reinforcements. Either way, it never mattered. Vakaal did not follow them the winding, spiral staircase lined with traps. He did not engage with the robed men ready to spring an ambush. Vakaal did not need to. For his shaping was complete, now. Vakaal understood _what_he was, and there was nothing he could not do.

Vakaal waited, until his trio of targets reached the top of the blue-white crystalline monolith, and then he _sent_himself there. He appeared in the air, floating between the Grand Historians and their gateway. Vakaal hovered there, his arms outstretched in open mockery of the nameless, yellow-robed man who once tortured pup and father alike. He'd been waiting for a chance to make a dramatic entrance, like that.

Vakaal smiled. "Hello."

All three Historians launched attacks. Here, in this world, they called their shaping 'magic'. By their standards, the three humans were immensely powerful. But to Vakaal, their greatest powers were nothing but a gentle breeze to ruffle his fur. One tried to bind him to the floor, another tried to pull the ceiling down atop him, and the third sought to cut him apart with focused lines of sharp power.

Their shaping melted into nothingness the moment it left their fingertips, their minds. Vakaal alighted on the floor before them, smiling. While the humans struggled to summon their powers, Vakaal flicked his fingers, and shattered the wall beyond the gate into a dozen pieces. Wind gusted around the room. Loose pages of vellum, and maps of worlds fluttered about. Vakaal lifted his hand, and tore the gate rings from their moorings, then hurled through the hole he'd made. The broken gate exploded somewhere out of site. The concussive thuds rocked the tower, and blinding, silver-white flashes reflected all across the crystal.

"And now, this world is free." Vakaal snarled at them, gesturing at the sprawling cities in the distance, and the ships that flew above them. "This story is yours no more!"

"We brought this world prosperity!" One man came forward, wrinkled hands held out as if in surrender. His golden robe billowed around him. "We taught them how to-"

"You prospered! You made _them_your servants! You built your colony upon their backs, and in their blood! You ravaged their resources, and sent what was left to help steal other worlds' stories!" Vakaal bared his fangs, shaping a change in the man's mind. "You know what horrible things you've done!"

"I know...horrible...things..." The man dropped his arms. He turned away, walking to the shattered hole at the end of the tower.

Another man ran over to him. "No, Tesa, don't-"

Tesa leapt from the tower. There was no scream.

"This story is free, now! They will prosper under their _own_power, they will not be your slaves, anymore!" He found the other men's names, in their heads. Bek, and Polsa. Both men were grandfathers. Polsa was still close with his family. Bek was estranged. Polsa, though, was not a bad man at heart. "Polsa. You can go."

Before either man could react, Vakaal sent Polsa across the world, all the way to his family. He arrived, screaming, clutching his chest, and with his shaping torn away forever. But he'd recover. And he'd spend his last years, with his family, trying to make up for his people's sins in this place.

At the same time, Bek summoned all his own power, bringing forth a great, catastrophic change to the world. Vakaal felt the change coming. He could almost hear the old man's haunted, whispery voice, almost see the words written across the vellum that was existence.

The whole tower collapsed in an unstoppable cascade. The weight of so much crystal was more than even the great urd'thin shaper could bear. Crushed and cut apart, he was at last granted peace in death.

All at once, the whole tower shuddered. Far, far below them, the lower levels cracked, a spider web of fractures rolling through the walls, the support structures. The crystal strands holding it aloft and anchoring it to the blue stone mountains unwound. A torrent of failure poured up the structure, tearing it apart.

"Brave move, old man. To sacrifice yourself, and your men, to stop me."

"We do..." The man took a deep breath, closing his eyes. "Only what we believe is right. I cannot let you reach any other worlds."

Vakaal smiled, waiting just until the floor started to give way, until the walls around them shattered. Then the pup waved a hand, and everything froze. The tower suspended in mid collapse, the anchor strands halted coming part, shards of crystal hovered in the air, perfectly still. "Oops."

"What?" Bek opened his eyes again, looking around. "How the hell..." He turned in a circle, gazing in awe at that which Vakaal had wrought. "That's...impossible."

"No." Vakaal shook his head. "It's my story. It's been my story since I came here, seven months ago. I've been studying you. Been to your archive, watched what you've done to this world. Wove myself into its fabric." He smiled, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Just like you do." Vakaal tilted his head. "You said you can't let me reach other worlds, so I'm guessing you know who I am."

Bek hung his head, sighing. "Yes. Your name's Vakaal, right?"

"That's right." Vakaal smiled. "My torturers must have kept people informed..."

"I thought..._we_thought..."

"That I died with them?" Vakaal swished his tail. "Yeah. I get that, sometimes."

"But, that was...gods, you must have been just a pup, then." Bek took a breath, and heaved a long sigh. "I know it doesn't matter, but...I'm sorry for what they did to you."

"Oh, trust me." Vakaal's voice twisted into a snarl. "It matters."

With his shaping, Vakaal reached inside Bek, and snatched at the man's spark, the source of his magic. The pup squeezed it with his shaping, smothered it, until at last it went dark.

You have no shaping.

"Aarrrrrgghhh!" Bek dropped to his knees, clutching his chest. He gasped, hardly able to breathe.

"I believe you when you say you're sorry. I feel guilt in you, so I'm going to let you live. But no more gates, no more shaping. Just you, and your guilt, and a world that will see your people for the monsters you are." Vakaal stepped towards the man. "Now, when you said I must have been just a pup, what did you mean?"

Bek struggled for breath, glancing up at the urd'thin. "The catastrophe on 3-B. That must have been at least twenty years ago."

Twenty years.

"How long have I..."

Vakaal unfroze a single piece of crystal, shaped it into a mirror, and brought it to his face. The reflection was achingly, agonizing familiar. But it was not his own. The urd'thin staring back at him was his father. He blinked, swallowed. No, it _was_Vakaal, but he was older now than his father ever was.

The realization was a knife in Vakaal's heart.

He'd spent half his youth, in that horrible place, watching his father suffer. Piecing him back together. After that, the years had slipped him by, passing in fragmented memories and empty husks of uncounted time.

The pup was gone. Long since grown into adulthood without ever truly noticing.

"No..." Vakaal's heart crumbled. He had now spent more years alone than he ever had at his father's side. "No!" His ears drooped, and tears formed in his eyes. "It's not fair. He should...he should have watched me grow up! Should have been proud of me. I don't...I don't want to be older, than him."

All around him, frozen crystalline structures dissolved into sand, his hold on the world slipping away. Broken shards fell in slow motion. Vakaal took a shuddering breath, still staring into the mirror.

Vakaal didn't want to age anymore.

So he stopped.

"You took...so much from him!" He wiped his eyes with the back of a hand as papers swirled past him, starting to pick up speed. Bits of debris bounced off the floor. "You made him watch me suffer, but you didn't let him see me grow up!" Vakaal's cracked and broke, tears soaked his fur. "That was all he wanted, that was all he wanted! Why did you take that from him? From us?" He grabbed his ears, wringing them. The knife in his heart twisted deeper. "It's not fair! Why did you do this to us?"

"I don't know." Bek's answer was more honest, and more pained than Vakaal would have ever expected. "But I'm sorry."

"It doesn't matter." Vakaal didn't even try to fight back his growing sobs. "None of this matters, does it?"

Despair and despondency clutched, dragging him deep into their cold, hopeless waters. He had wandered, and hunted Storytellers for decades now, and what had come of it? Nothing. He could slay them ten-fold, and what good did it do? It did not bring his father back. It did not give him his childhood, back. Did it even free the worlds they colonized? What stopped them from finding their way back, someday?

What good was he even doing?

What good...was he?

"I don't...I don't want to do_this anymore." Vakaal flicked his hand, and _sent Bek and all his remaining men away, back to their families. "Just..." He took a slow, shuddering breath, summoning his shaping. This time, he bound it to something new, something terrible. "Let me die."

Vakaal released his hold on the world, and tower gave way. It collapsed in on itself in a great, shrieking rush. Cacophony surrounded him. The horrible, painfully loud sounds of crystalline quartz crashing against granite, of an entire tower falling to the earth in a shattered heap. Jagged blocks of broken crystal struck Vakaal, breaking bones, cutting deep into him. He screamed, even as the agony brought with it the brief hope of death. The tower's anchor strands snapped, raining shards across the valley. Something struck Vakaal's head, and everything went black.

Some time later, Vakaal awoke. He lay amidst jagged stone and broken crystal, staring at beams of light cascading through openings in the debris. Dust swirled everywhere. He gasped, suddenly desperate for air. It was cold in his lungs, shockingly so, as if he was breathing for the very first time. He coughed, and then gasped again, a cycle that continued until his breathing stabilized.

Instinctively, he tried to rise. Vakaal pushed away tons of stone rubble as easily as he might toss aside bedclothes. He staggered to his feet, blinking at the harsh light. When his eyes adjusted, he looked himself over. His clothes were ragged and torn, but his body was completely intact. Not a single, lingering scratch remained of all the injuries he'd sustained.

"Did you save me?" Vakaal muttered to himself, as if his shaping could heal him. "Or did you just rebuild me? Stupid Godhood." Vakaal whimpered, disappointment weighing heavily upon his still-beating heart. "Can't even die right."

At last, he had discovered something his powers couldn't do.

Let him die.

In the distance, rescuers searching the debris shouted. Vakaal ignored them. He didn't care if they knew who he was, or what they saw him do. Vakaal called forth his doorway, out of the darkness, and pushed it open with a thought. Light spilled across him, and the door asked a singular question.

Where?

"Anywhere there's free urd'thin." Vakaal took a slow, shuddering breath, stepping through the door. He did not want to be a god, anymore. "I just want to live like an urd'thin, again."

*****

When Mother's tears ended, she lay around Korakos, nuzzling and licking him a while. The little dragon wasn't sure why she cried. Surely, she should be happy that they had reached their new home. She worked so hard to get them here, and they traveled so far, she shouldn't be sad anymore. Maybe she just missed Father that much. He had seen her cry before, but never for so long, with so many shed tears.

Eventually, Mother uncurled from around him and rose to her paws. She stared at the engraving of the dragon with his books, brushed it with her paw. "You were right, Rev. It is beautiful here. I can...teach him to swim, now. Just like us. He'll live...a longer, happier life than we ever could have hoped...thank you for..." She sniffed, blinking away fresh tears. "For telling me about this place."

With a heavy sigh, mother turned away from the stone tablet. She walked all around the mossy hill capped by the strange cave and its crystalline dome. It was a larger piece of land than their old home, and with every moment it revealed some new wonder as Korakos trotted alongside his mother.

Shiny, silver fish darted around in the clear water, different than the fish back home. A green and black creature sat on a broad, emerald leaf floating atop the water. Unfamiliar birdsong echoed from the boughs of the many vibrant trees all around them. The trees here were greener than back home, but not near as tall. A strange, slender creature with no legs and tiny brown and black scales slithered along the shoreline. Something akin to a poison salamander but with only four legs and black skin scuttled away from the dragons.

"Momma this place is weird..."

Mother laughed, but kept her attention focused on their surroundings. Korakos tried to follow her lead. Since she was on patrol, he'd patrol too. He held his head up high, gazing around, looking for anything out of the ordinary. Then Korakos huffed, flattening his little spines. Patrolling was hard, here. Everything was out of the ordinary. Even the scents were wrong. The smell of clean, pure water was so overwhelming it was almost uncomfortable. It was as if he couldn't pick out any other scents in the breeze because the smell of water was so strong. A flock of birds passed over head, and the hatchling glanced up. Their wings were blue. He'd never seen blue birds before.

When they completed their circuit they returned place where Father's picture was carved in stone. Mother huddled in the sheltering shade beneath a tree, and Korakos settled next to her. The shade made his eyes stop aching, but it was harder to look out into the sunlight. Mother studied the large picture inscribed on the flat stone. "I think this...I think this is a map."

"That's a funny word." Korakos flopped on his haunches. He grimaced when his belly rumbled. "I'm hungry, Momma! I want swamp crab!"

Mother turned her head, gazing down at him with a smile. "So do I, love. I don't know if they have those here, though."

Korakos gasped, his jaw dropping. No swamp crab?! "I wanna go home!"

That made Mother laugh. She shook her head. "We are home."

"Is this where we live now?" Korakos hopped from one flat stone embedded in the earth to another, towards the big stone building. He paused atop the stone at the edge of the shaded area. "It's bright here!"

"Yes, it is. I think we'll get used to it, but...it may take some time."

The hatchling pointed to the cave they'd first arrive in. "Is that our home now?"

"No, love. I don't think that thing is safe." She waved a paw towards the wooden things set up around the rock tablet. "And...people made these. Humans, maybe. So we can't stay here long. We'll find somewhere else, a safe for you. But first...first, I think we need to eat. Then I need to rest, and...perhaps tomorrow we'll look for a place to live, a while."

Korakos turned back around, hopping across the flagstones again. "What are you gonna catch to eat?"

"Whatever I can, I imagine." Mother laughed, a pretty sound. Korakos was glad she seemed happy again. "Your father used to say everything here tasted delicious, so...I'll see what I can catch us. But you have to promise me you'll stay out of the water. And away from any animals you see. You could wait inside..." She glanced back at the stone structure atop the hill. "No, I don't want you go near that gateway." Mother sighed, then swept her wing around the shaded area. "Just wait right here."

"Yes, Momma." The hatchling clambered up onto the flat wooden things, and settled on his haunches.

Mother padded away from him, and out into the sunlight. Her pale green scales glittered and shone, the color almost too vibrant. In a strange way, this world seemed so pretty that his eyes just couldn't take it. Mother flexed her wings, hopped into the air and glided back down. She laughed, though Korakos didn't know what was funny.

She glanced back at him, gesturing at her eyes with a single clawtip. "If you close your membranes, it helps with the sunlight. I'll be back soon." Mother leapt, beat her wings, and squealed. "Aaaaaahh!"

Faster than he'd ever seen, Mother shot into the air. Korakos did as she told him, flicking his membranes closed over his eyes. Though translucent, they cut down the glare, and helped keep his eyes from stinging too badly. He tilted his head back, watching Mother ascend. She spiraled towards the sky, and within a few wing beats, she was already out of sight. Her laughter echoed back to him. Maybe the funny air in this place was just making her light-headed.

While Mother was gone, Korakos wandered around the shady area. He walked down to the shore, and drank more water, savoring the sweetness. It was strange to be able to drink his fill right from the swamp. Never before had he been able to drink without waiting for it to filter form the rocks, and fill their little puddles and shells. As much as he wanted to wade out and paddle about, he promised he wouldn't. Now that mother seemed happy again, he didn't want to start disobeying her as soon as they'd arrived in their new world.

For a little while he contented himself chasing the world's strange bugs. There were shiny beetles everywhere, and long bugs with two sets of wings. He'd never imagined such strange creatures before. While momma told him not to go near any animals, bugs didn't count, he was sure. Another bug with many sets of legs sat in a spiraling web, woven between corners of broken stone that edged the little plaza. It was dark gray in color, blending in well with the old rock. It was big, too, as big as his part. Part of him wanted try and jump up and bat it down from its web. Another part of him was afraid it might bite him if he did.

It did not take long before mother returned. He heard her wing beats first, the sound as familiar as ever. He hopped around in place, tummy rumbling. Even before he could see her, he called out. "Momma! Momma, momma, momma! I'm hungry! What did you find!"

Her wing beats were louder, here, clearer than before, almost as if he was hearing them for the first time. Maybe all the clouds that used to smother the world muffled the sound. He swiveled his ears, following the noise, and turned his head when he honed in on her. She swept in over the treetops, carrying something furry in her jaws. There were not many furry creatures back in the swamp, and he wondered what she'd caught.

Mother touched down on her hind paws first, then dropped her front feet down, and trotted a few paces. She came to a stop, and spat her prey out in the shade. "I have no idea what this is, but there's whole groups of them out there!"

Korakos bounded over, as eager to see just what she'd caught as he was to eat it. It was several times his size, with skinny legs ending in hard feet, spindly horns, a long face, and pale brown fur, spotted with black. He paced around the thing, sniffing it everywhere. It didn't smell like any creature he knew, but the scent of its blood leaking mother's teeth and claw marks made his stomach complain even louder.

"I wanna eat it!"

"So do I," Mother said, laughing. With her claws, she started stripping away sections of furred hide to expose the meat beneath for him. "Your father used to tell me about the creatures of this place, but...that was years ago, and...I can't really remember them anymore. I don't think it's a...girrfin...they have beaks. Maybe it's a peeg? Or...a dog? Or...well, it doesn't matter, as long as it tastes good!"

And taste good it did. Korakos dug into the exposed flesh, rending it with his sharp teeth. The blood spilled across his tongue, hot and strong. It was unlike anything he could remember tasting before, and yet it spurred him on to eat more. The flesh was warm, juicy, and compared to much of what he was used to eating, it tasted cleaner, richer. So often prey tasted a bit like the swamp, but this...it tasted like meat.

"It's good, Momma!" Korakos giggled, licking blood from his muzzle.

"Yes!" Mother gulped down mouthfuls of meat, panting between them before going for more. "It is!"

Korakos batted at her with a paw. "Don't eat so fast, Momma, you'll make yourself sick!"

Mother laughed and gave him a strange look. It was the same expression he saw from her often, happy and sad at the same time, somehow proud and worried all at once. "It doesn't matter anymore, love. There's so much food here...we...we can eat...as much as we want...you're going to grow so strong..."

After that, the hatchling ate and ate until his stomach hurt. It was rare for him to feel totally full after a meal, especially lately when he'd been sharing his food with his mother. Now that there was more than enough for both of them, he didn't stop eating until his little belly could take no more. Mother kept eating after that, and even when she seemed ready to stop, he swatted her with his paws, giggling.

"Eat more, Momma! You gotta be strong again!"

Mother smiled at him, licking blood from her pebbly green scales. "Not long ago you were telling me to eat less."

"Nuh uh! Just slower!" He grinned up at her, tail swishing across the mossy ground. "Eat your meat, Momma!"

Without a complaint or a sad look, Mother went back to feeding. Finally, she eased away from the mangled carcass, and gave a loud belch. "That is all I can hold, my love."

"Good!" Korakos gave a happy chirp. "You won't be skinny for long!"

"I fear its too late for that, Little One, but..." Mother licked one of her paws clean, then glanced at the water, gently lapping at the mossy shoreline. "Perhaps feeding well will allow me to squeeze out a little extra time with you, to teach you how to live." She rose up, and walked towards the water, beckoning with her tail for him to follow. "Even if...I have to learn how to live here, myself. Now, let's get you cleaned up." She paused, staring out over the marsh. "You know what? Do you...do you want go swimming?"

Korakos gasped. Mother never let him swim. He'd tried it before, when she wasn't looking. Then he got yelled at when she saw him. And the water left him all tingly anyway. "Yes!" He hopped up and down, then in a circling. "Swimming, swimming, swimming. Wanna go swimming!"

Laughing, Mother led him to the water's edge. "Swimming it is, then. Just let me make sure it's safe, first."

The hatchling followed his mother to the water, so excited he could hardly wait. As she waded out slowly, sniffing the water and probing the bottom, Korakos paced the bank. As soon as she motioned him to join her, he charged into the water as fast as he could. Fans of spray flew up on either side of him till the water reached his chest, and his paws lost their grip on the silty bottom. He plunged under the surface, but even before Mother could grab him, he popped up on his own, gasped, and then paddled around in a little circle, webbed paws propelling him through the water.

"Look Momma, I'm swimming!" He laughed and chirped, splashing and paddling. The water felt cool and welcoming against his scales. Instincts helped him find the motions easily enough, a natural act that poison water had always denied him. "I'm swimming, I'm swimming."

Mother only laughed, shaking her head. "Yes, my love, you certainly are! Don't go too deep, now..." Mother dunked herself, and the wave rocked the hatchling on the surface. She came back up, wiping away the blood from her wet scales. "We can swim together, now..." Mother took a shaking breath, watching him splash around in a circle, her eyes shining and damp. "Every day...I'll teach you how to dive, and how to hunt...well..."

"I'mma catch swamp crabs now!" He took a breath, and with his flight membranes closed, dunked his head under the water. Even with the dragons stirring up the silt, the water still seemed clearer than back in the marsh. Korakos didn't see any crabs, though. He popped his head back up, snorting water to clear his nostrils. "Where's the crabs?"

"I don't know." Mother stretched a wing, shielding him from the bright sunlight filtering down through the trees. "I don't think they have swamp crab here, but...I'm sure they something else wonderful in their waters."

"I'mma catch it!" The hatchling grasped the edge of his mother's wing, where it brushed the water, and used it to anchor himself in place. He peered around the marsh, seeking out this mysterious prey. "Where is it?"

"I've no idea, dear, but...we'll find it together."

*****

Chapter Eighty Seven

*****

Her name was Airn.

Vakaal saw her for the first time at night, at an old stone fountain. Water bubbled from the mouth of a fish into a knee deep pool. At the time, he was still learning the city, and learning to live like one of it's people. He had bade his powers to bring him to a place with his urd'thin, and so they had. To a great city, with a great castle at its center, and more urd'thin than he'd ever seen in one place.

Though they lived in the margins of a human society, Vakaal saw fierce determination in each and every one of them. The oppression that often relegated them to sewers and tunnels did not diminish their spirits. Life was difficult, for them, and yet they thrived. The sight of so many of his own people living together swelled his heart, and left him regretting all the more his attempt to end himself.

Vakaal sat on the fountain's marble lip, dressed like a common beggar, in a ragged tunic and breeches. He listened to the soothing burble of the water, savoring its scent above the smells of grimy alleys and garbage. To think there were places where water seemed so rare. Here, it poured up from ancient waterworks all throughout the city, even in the districts most citizens had long since forgotten.

As lost in his thoughts as he was, he scarcely noticed her until she was standing in front of him. The female's fur was layered with rich earth tones, and her clothes bore more patches than original fabric. She carried a basket woven of willow boughs, filled with clothes and things to be washed. Though Vakaal hadn't been in the city long, he already knew the urd'thin often used fountains and public water supplies to bathe in and wash their belongings. This particular fountain was in an old plaza, and no one ever visited it after dark but urd'thin.

"Hello!" She smiled as she greeted him in the local urd'thin tongue.

"Hello." Vakaal returned her smile. Like every other language in the world, he knew hers by heart.

The female walked right up and sniffed at him, then set her basket down. "You smell like a foreigner. No wonder I haven't seen you before."

His scent. There was always something in it only other urd'thin ever seemed to be able to tell apart. Vakaal thought about changing it sometimes, but why bother? "Sand. I smell like the sand. I'm from the desert."

"Oh!" The female perked her ears, giggling. "Never smelled sand before. You sort of smell like..." She scrunched her muzzle and sniffed him again. "Burnt paper."

Vakaal blinked, and sniffed at his arm. Did he? Was that new? He tilted his head, and flashed a few teeth. "I think it's because my story's changed so many times, all my blood's been turned to ink."

The female giggled and gave him an odd look, her ears splayed. "You're either very poetic, or completely insane."

Vakaal tilted his head. "Can't it be both?"

"I suppose it can." She narrowed her eyes, looking him over. "As long as you're not the dangerous of crazy."

A grin slowly spread across Vakaal's muzzle. "Only to my enemies."

She giggled again, pulling clothes out of her basket. "I hope I don't become your enemy then. Or my brother will be your enemy." She inclined her head back down the alley she'd come from.

Leaning against a moldering wooden wall was another urd'thin, a male with dark fur and larger horns than most. Tall and well-built by urd'thin standards, he thumped a large hammer against his palm. Vakaal waved, and the other urd'thin returned a polite nod, but kept smacking the hammer against his palm.

"Looks protective," Vakaal said. "As family should be."

"Mmhmm, so if you try anything I don't like, he'll crack your skull open before you can even apologize."

"Well, I sure don't want that." Vakaal hopped off the fountain, and gave her a little bow. "Shall I leave you in peace?"

"You've no need to leave, unless you've got ill intent."

Vakaal shook his head. "Never in my life have I intended ill for my fellow urd'thin."

"Oh? So you only intend your ills for the other peoples?"

"When they deserve it."

The female turned to face him, tilting her head. She splayed her ears, looking him over. "I hope you don't act on any of these intentions. Around here, that's likely to get you tossed into a cell and forgotten. At best."

"I see." Vakaal shuffled his feet. He didn't like lying to other urd'thin, but he didn't want to give her the wrong idea, either. "So I better not play hero and stand up to the guards, or break our people out of prison."

Laughing, the female shook her head. "I'm leaning more towards poetic than crazy. Play hero." She swished her tail, and retrieved a small bar of fresh, flower-scent soap. She shook it at him. "Not if you want to live, anyway. I don't know where you're from, but around here, half the urd'thin who stand up to the guards vanish, and they don't come back."

Vakaal bristled. "I'll remember that."

"See that you do." She stripped off her shirt, and tossed it into the fountain. Beneath her clothes, her fur was lighter brown, growing darker towards her ears, and her hands.

Vakaal turned away to give her some privacy. "Should I wander somewhere else?"

"Only if you want too. It'd be more helpful if you stripped off and got in here with me. Looks like your clothes need to be washed as much as mine do. And maybe we can get some of that burned ink smell off of you. What'd you do, rob a burning book store?"

"You want me to bathe with you?" Vakaal turned around as she pulled off her pants, and tossed those into the fountain too. He pulled some of her clothes out of basket and put them into the water.

"I'd rather you helped me wash my clothes. Gets done twice as fast with two of us." Naked, the female climbed onto the fountain, and stood under the pouring water. It slicked her brown and white fur down against her body, rinsing away dirt and grime. "Besides, as long as my brother's nearby, I haven't anything to worry about, right?"

"Right." Vakaal glanced at the other male again. He'd moved closer, and while he had turned away to give his sister privacy, his ears remained swiveled towards her. The big male was ready to spring to his sisters' aide if the stranger so much as put an unwanted hand upon her. Vakaal liked him immediately. "If you really want the help..."

"Do you not bathe together where you come from?" The female turned around, rinsing the other side of her body. "It's common in the city. Clean water can be tough to come by, so it's not unusual for us to bathe together while we have the chance."

"Where I come from..." A flicker of a beautiful oasis pond flashed through Vakaal's mind. For a moment, he could smell the hot, desert breeze, feel the sun on his fur. Memories drifted through his head, the tribe bathing together, splashing each other. "Yeah, we did. Just...been a while."

"Come on then." The female waded back to the edge of the fountain and offered him her hand. "Get in. You can keep your clothes on, if you're shy."

Vakaal took her hand, and climbed into the fountain. "That won't be a problem." The water came up past his knees, and was colder than he expected. He stripped off his dirty shirt, and dropped it into the water. "Is this how you always bathe?"

The female laughed. "Mhm. I like this fountain, because there's almost never guards here at night. I get to take a bath a lot more often than most. Which is nice."

"It is. I like being clean." Vakaal took off his breeches and stepped out of them. He picked up the bar of soap sitting on the fountain's wall, and sniffed it. It smelled like flowers and fruit rind.

"That's called soap." The female took it from him, then looked him over. "Oh! You're gray everywhere."

Vakaal looked down at himself. "Since the day I was born."

"Never seen an all gray urd'thin." She tugged at a few stray tufts of fur. "Must be a desert color."

"You could say that." He took the soap back and walked to the stream of water. "And I know what soap is."

"Wasn't sure they had it in the desert." She crouched down, wringing each article of clothing under the water.

"We didn't." Since she hadn't stopped him, Vakaal rubbed the soap into his fur, getting himself nicely lathered. "I wouldn't think the urd'thin here could afford it."

The female burst into laughter. "Afford? Oh, you are new. Or you're teasing. I can't tell which, yet." She stood back up and joined him near the water stream. She held her hand out, and when he plopped the soap in it, she gave him a playful shove out of the way, then took his place in lathering up her wet fur. "I stole it. There's more than one way to stand up to the guards than a prison break, after all."

"I see." Vakaal worked his fingers through his fur, cleaning everything. "You steal a lot of things?"

"Depends on whether or not you have a problem with it."

A lopsided smirk crossed Vakaal's muzzle. "If I had a problem with stealing, I probably wouldn't be bathing in a fountain with a stranger."

"In that case, yes, I steal all sorts of things." The female wriggled around under the fountain, rinsing her fur. "My brother and a few friends and I. Some we steal for ourselves, the rest we save up. Eventually we give some away, and use the rest to barter with in the market."

"Is that normal here?" Vakaal stuck his hands in the water above her head, gathering some to rinse his face. "I'd shove you out of the way like you did to me, but your brother might not like that."

"Guess you'll have to be patient then." She laughed and turned away, her tail brushing him. "Yes, that's normal. Normal for us, anywhere. So, how did you end up here in the city?"

Vakaal smiled and shrugged, and cast his powers to the weave of the world. He skimmed its history, and soon concocted a believable backstory for himself. "The short version? Lying nobles."

"Aacckk!" She made a disgusted sound. "I hate the nobles. They think they're so far above their _own_laws, let alone above us. What happened?"

"I lived out in the desert, where the red stone spires are. Don't know what they call it here." When she moved aside, Vakaal took her place, rinsing his fur in the cold water streaming from the fish's mouth. "A trade caravan came through, owned by some nobles. They needed more laborers, offered a lot of coin to help. Talked a couple of us into joining up, put coin in our hand and everything. Thought we'd be able to return home and give all that money back to the village."

"Yes, I can see where this is going." She sat down in the fountain, water up nearly to her chest, and rubbed her soap into her clothes.

"Worked us half to death for months of travel, barely kept us fed. Made us buy our own supplies whenever we stopped in town. Used up all the coin they gave us to start with." Vakaal turned around a few times, then worked his fingers through the bushy fur of his tail. "Other two urd'thin cut and ran at the last town. Only I was dumb enough to stick around, and when we finally got here, guess what?"

She flattened her ears. "They cut you loose without ever paying?"

"Mhm. Told me, that coin they gave me before the trip was my full pay." He heaved a very convincing sigh, his ears drooping. "I tried to argue with them, but a couple guards roughed me up pretty bad and tossed me on the street. By the time I crawled out of the way of the wagons and carriages, the nobles were gone."

"That's horrible." She inspected him, fresh concern in her eyes. "Were you badly hurt?"

Vakaal smiled at her, rinsing his tail in the water. "I'm fine. Lotta bruises, but nothing broken. That was a few weeks ago now."

She shook her head, returning to her scrubbing. "You've done well to last this long without ending up vanishing, then."

"Lucky, I guess." Vakaal turned a slow circle under the fountain. "Not really sure what I'm going to do now, though." This time, his hesitant, uncertain pause was genuine. Vakaal swallowed and glanced down at her. "You still want some help with that laundry?"

"That is why I invited you to join me, after all." She poked her tongue out between her teeth, a playfully insulting gesture likely acquired from local humans. "But if you'd rather spend the whole time preening like a gryphon, that's fine too."

Vakaal sloshed over to her, and settled down in the fountain. He snatched a grimy looking blouse on the water's surface, and when she handed him the soap, he scrubbed it into the fabric. "How's this?"

"Good enough." She watched him, head cocked. "Never washed clothes before?"

"Not with stolen soap in a fountain, anyway." Vakaal rinsed the blouse when it looked clean. "Used to do it an oasis pond, outside the village."

The female gave a heavy sigh, ears sagging. "I'd love to tell you that you'll make it back to that pond, but the odds...they're not good."

Vakaal whimpered, his chest tightening, a flash of the oasis in his mind. "I know. I've accepted that, for now."

"If you want to survive here, in the city? You're going to have to learn to live like we do." She held her hand out, and Vakaal passed the soap back to her. "I can teach you, if you like. We all could, there's a whole community of us here, living together under the streets."

"Like..." Vakaal's hands stilled. "Like a tribe?"

"Very much like a tribe, actually. Supposedly the Warrens were modeled after the the old tribes used to live, before the humans came. No idea if it's true." She laughed, wrung out a torn blue skirt, and laid it out across the stone. "If you'd like to come back there with us, you can."

"I'd like that. I'd...like that a lot." Vakaal swallowed, splaying his ears. He glanced away. It would be nice to belong to a tribe again, if only for a little while. "Thank you."

"Of course. Urd'thin have to look out for one another, around here." She scrubbed another piece of clothing with the soap, then looked up and gave him a beautiful smile. "I'm Airn, by the way. What's your name?"

He paused, searching his mind. It was on the tip of his tongue, but for just a moment, his own name felt foreign. "Vakaal, I think."

"You think?" Airn giggled, returning the soap. "Must have gotten sunstroke out there in your desert. But it's nice to meet you, Vakaal."

"And meeting you, Airn," Vakaal said, his voice soft. "Is a warm sunbeam in a dark, cold time."

"Thank you!" Airn perked her ears, smiling. "You are poetic, aren't you? Can you read, by chance? Written words, I mean."

"Oh, Airn." Vakaal put a hand to his chest, offering a mock bow. "I'm very literate."

"Wonderful!" Airn stood back up, gathering her clothes. She draped them over the lip of the fountain. "After we get dressed, I'll show you how to get to the Warrens. We'll see if we can find you a place to sleep. Otherwise, you can stay with my brother and I for now."

"That's awfully generous of you, considering we only met." Vakaal sloshed out of the fountain. He wrung out his shirt and breeches.

Airn sat down on the fountain's lip, letting her fur air out. "You're urd'thin. I'd like to think that makes you family. We all have to stick together, in this city. Besides, step out of line and-"

"Skull bashed in." He waved at Airn's brother. "I remember."

"Keep it in mind, too." Airn laughed, swinging her feet. "Besides, I've some books I'd like to have read, if you're willing. And...truth is." She shrugged, then flattened ears. "Sometimes people come and go in this place, often without any warning. A friend one day may be gone the next. A father..." She swallowed, pinning her ears. "May never return home."

Vakaal cringed, turning away. Deep inside him, something withered. "I'm sorry. I...I know how that feels."

Airn nodded, and then offered him a smile. "So around here, we like to think if you see a chance to help someone, to make a friendship, you seize it. Because neither of us may make it home next time."

"I understand that better than you know." Vakaal pulled his wet clothes on, then offered her his hand to help her off the fountain's wall. "And I promise you, you'll never have to worry about that again."

Laughing, Airn took his hand and hopped down. "Aren't you optimistic. Sweet, too." She backed away and shook herself, then wrung out each piece of clothing. She dressed, put the rest of her clothes into her basket, and then beckoned for him to follow her. "Come on, Mister Optimist. Let's show you how to get home."

_Home._Vakaal liked the sound of that.

*****

True to her word, Airn took Vakaal to the place she called home. She lived deep beneath the city, where thousands of urd'thin had built a society within a network of tunnels and catacombs. They called the placed The Warrens. The place was older by far than the human city built atop it. There were aqueducts and water works, sewer systems and a vast labyrinth of tunnels connecting to every part of the city above.

Evidence of the urd'thin existed even before they reached the Warrens themselves. Rickety bridges and walkways spanned slick ledges, dangerous drops, and deep channels with forgotten waterways or sewer systems. Piles of trash washed down from above were picked over by organized groups, sorting out anything of value, or use. Markings and phrases written on walls on chalk or paints gave directions in a local urd'thin dialect.

Stolen lamps in elegant bronze fixtures marked the official entrance into the Warrens. Beyond them was a piecemeal built of boards lashed together across broken carriage walls. A few guards outside it in patchwork armor of leathers and bits of chainmail came forward to greet Airn, and soon they opened up the gates. They welcomed Vakaal, but did not seem especially suspicious. He could only imagine how many urd'thin must find their way down here, to live amongst their kin.

The Warrens had nearly anything Vakaal could imagine a society would need. They were homes built of plundered materials, and discarded debris. Rugs formed walls, or doors. Guards they called Watchers kept order, like an urd'thin police force. They had a simple system of governance, ruled by a collection of elders, but their actual laws seemed few and far behind. A great market offered a place to barter for food, drink, clothing, building materials, weaponry, and so on. Many available things were stolen, or forged, while others were made down here, by the urd'thin. Their society seemed entirely barter-based. Vakaal found the place both fascinating, and heartwarming.

Here, against all odds, his people had truly built a place for themselves.

As Airn led him through their hidden city, the scents were almost overwhelming. Layers of dirt and mold, and fur that wasn't washed often enough. Mildew and moss, old water, trash, but more pleasant scents too. There were searing meats and mushrooms, stolen wine and ale, acrid lamp oil, herbs being smoked, and incenses burned.

Each urd'thin's scent was tinted by old bloodlines. Some smelled of earth and forest, others of stone and mountain. As Airn led him past them, Vakaal touched their stories, their ancestry. There were at least a dozen tribes here, and though they formed one single society now, tribal affiliations still lingered. Some bore notched ears, or bands woven into their fur, or tied ribbons around their horns and tails, all indicating a different tribe.

So different, and yet so familiar.

Vakaal loved the place at once. He knew from touching their stories that many of the urd'thin resented living here, resented being trod upon and spat at by the humans who ruled the land. They didn't like being pushed to the margins, forced to live in the buried remnants of the people who held this land first. Eking out a living in the ruins of those who came before. To many of them, this place seemed like hell, but to Vakaal, it felt a little like home.

Despite that, he understood their pain all too well. For a moment, an ever so brief moment, he considered the simple fact that he could upend all of this. He could set them all free, and make them the rulers of this place. But what good would it do? All it would do is flip the cycle of oppression around, and the pain would continue. No, for a change in their collective story to truly matter, they had to affect it themselves. Besides, he had no come here to overthrow tyrannical nobles. He had come here to escape that life, and live like an urd'thin again.

When they arrived at Airn's home, she gave Vakaal a brief tour. The place Airn and her brother Deg lived in was little more than a circular stone room. But Airn had divided it into sections with swaths of stolen fencing draped with cloth so that she and her brother both had a private area to sleep. Mats filled with straw served as their beds. Ratty animal hides hung across open corridors that led to other urd'thin homes, along with a communal cooking space.

Airn invited him to stay with them, and Vakaal did not refuse her kind offer. She brought out a few cushions and a tattered blanket, and made him a bed upon the floor, at the front of their house. After she bid him goodnight, Vakaal got comfortable on the cushions. He stared up into the darkness, long after the other two had fallen asleep. For the first time since Vakaal lost his father, he felt like he was home.

Vakaal decided in that moment, to build a life here, and make it last as long as possible.

*****

Airn and Deg knew only the life Vakaal invented for himself. That he was a desert villager, born to a tribe that traded often with a cultured human city. His tribe all learned to read and speak a variety of language from the humans they traded with. They forged a strong relationship with that city, but as a result, it left them too trusting of humans in general. Their literate nature, combined with their naivety, made them easy targets for cruel nobles looking for cheap labor, or worse.

Airn and Deg had no trouble believing the stories he fed them, so with a little misdirection, and a few detailed stories, he built himself a life anew. In his studies of the Storytellers, he learned their ways, using misdirection, controlling knowledge and information. People believed what they wanted to believe, saw only the reality with which they were presented. It helped the Storytellers build secret colonies, and conquer worlds from within. And it helped Vakaal weave a shroud of mortality to hide who and what he truly was.

As promised, Vakaal read Airn's books to her. She could read, but only in urd'thin, and most of her books were in other languages. It began with a chapter or two at a time, but soon enough they were spending entire evenings, lounging on cushions, and drinking stolen wine while Vakaal read her stories of a world she was never meant to see.

Word of the strange, gray-furred urd'thin's literacy spread through the Warrens. Soon he was reading books to pups and adults alike, in homes and communal spaces. He dubbed himself a Teller of Tales, just to ensure no one ever called him a Storyteller. Vakaal dearly loved being able to socialize with other urd'thin again.

Airn took him everywhere. She introduced him to the important urd'thin she knew, instructed him in the basics of their bartering system, told him which of their local Watchers had a mean streak, and so on. Whenever Airn, Deg, and a few others went to the surface, Vakaal went with them. Airn taught him what he could safely steal from where, which places to avoid, which city guards were most dangerous, and which humans had enough kindness in them to stand up for the urd'thin.

Vakaal took every lesson to heart, learning as any true newcomer would. Not because he needed too, but because he wanted to. And in return, Vakaal taught her to read. Each time he read a new story, he showed her the letters, the sigils, the runes. Taught her how to speak them, and what they meant.

Airn proved a quick study. As weeks turned to months, she progressed enough in her studies that she too, was reading to the local pups. Yet even then, Vakaal would tell her stories at night. By then, it was not the tale that held her enraptured, but the teller. Day by day, and week by week, Vakaal and Airn grew ever closer.

Each day, they ventured together into the city. When they ran into trouble with guards, Airn showed him the easiest ways to escape, and how to reach the places the guards couldn't follow. Such chases were strangely exhilarating, and he was pleased to see she was so savvy.

Vakaal she should know how to fight, too, really fight. So he talked some of the Watchers into giving her lessons. He even secretly tweaked their own knowledge in the process. He made them more dangerous, more skilled combatants, both to help keep the Warrens safe, and to pass on that knowledge to Airn and Deg. Airn learned how to handle a knife, from where to strike to how to deflect a blow. She also learned how to disable to temporarily disable someone or even kill them, if it ever came to it. temporarily. Deg learned how to properly utilize the hammer he always carried, so he could do more than just angrily lash out at skulls with it.

As the seasons turned, and months melted into a year, Vakaal's friendship with Airn grew. Laugh by laugh, smile by smile, friendship blossomed into unspoken love. One night, she invited him into her bed for the first time, but Vakaal was hesitant. He did not want her to plan a life she could never have. Vakaal did not want Airn to give her heart to a lie.

So he brought a great confession to his tongue.

But Airn spoke first. "I need you to know, I fear to ever call you my mate, whatever we become." She took a slow, deep breath. "For I have always held a foolish, but profound superstition. I fear that the more we admit to love, the closer we come to disaster." She squeezed his hand, brushing her muzzle against his. "So...I would have you as mine, Vakaal, but...I may never be able to put it to words. If that is...too difficult for you, I will understand."

Vakaal only smiled at her, bumping her nose with his. To Airn, that was every bit as profound a confession as that which he had near given. This was vastly important to her, and he would treat it only with the utmost respect. "Words don't change what's in your heart, Airn, and I'll always know what's there."

"Thank you, Vakaal." Airn twined her arms around him, kissing him.

Vakaal returned the kiss, but then eased back. "A confession of my own, if I may. I need you to know something, before we go any further."

"Anything." Airn took his hand again, gently squeezing it.

"There are things..." Vakaal took a slow breath, shaking deep inside. "Things I may never be able to tell you, about myself, but...firstly, I promise to try." When Airn only smiled at him, patient, he forced himself to go on. "Secondly, you have to know that one day, I will vanish. I do not know when, I only know that there is..." He swallowed. "Something terrible in me, and one day, it tear me from this place forever, and you will never see me again. So, before you decide to take me as-"

Airn silenced him with a gentle kiss, then eased back and squeezed his hand. "I know you're hiding terrible mysteries, Vakaal, but you'll tell me when you're ready. And whoever you were, doesn't matter." She patted his chest. "This, the person you are now? That's who I care about." She took a breath, then rested her head against him, sighing against his fur. "And, of course you'll vanish someday. Our people _always_vanish. It's what this city does to us. But thank you, for...for trying to warn me, just the same." She tilted her head, staring up at him. Tears glittered in her eyes. "I understand that we won't have our whole lives, together. Few urd'thin do. So I will have you now, and I will cherish you, for as long as I can." She kissed his nose, sniffling. "All I can ask is that you do the same for me."

For all his long life, Vakaal could never remember meeting someone so deeply understanding. "For every moment we're together."

And as long as I can remember, after.

After that, Vakaal slept at her side every night, for all the years they were together.

*****

Chapter Eighty Eight

*****

Airn decided she wanted to try writing her own stories. She wished to spin heroic tales of heroic urd'thin. Vakaal thought that a wonderful idea. By them, the two of them had every book available in the Warrens, and Airn wanted fresh stories to serve as inspiration. Vakaal decided that rather than try and steal them, they should visit someplace new. So he surprised her with a pretty blue dress, tailored to fit her. He also got himself a fine gray vest, darker than his fur and edged with gold, with pants to match. Airn assumed he'd been saving stolen coins, and that was good enough for him.

While well dressed, they were able to visit the parts of the city with shops that would treat urd'thin fairly. Using his power, Vakaal sought out the places with the kindest owners, who would most benefit from their business. Visiting such places also gave them access to newly published tomes, or rarer books still in good condition. Not only were they able to bring dozens of new stories back to the Warrens that way, but they also built relationships with shopkeepers and merchants who would be more open to helping urd'thin in the future.

One such shop was located in a district of the city that seemed far more receptive of their people than others. That district was filled with refugees of some great war from the world's past, their lands long-since conquered by those who ruled the city. A great, roiling, ancestral anger fomented in that place. Dark schemes and plans of rebellion bubbled in some of the minds around him, and Vakaal did what he could to steer clear of them. It was not his place to take up their fight.

That district was filled with striking banners. A common one depicted a bright silver raindrop, the bottom of which formed the blade of an axe. Airn seemed wary of it, telling him to be careful of the people who displayed such banners. Their unusual kindness towards urd'thin was a double edged sword. They might treat urd'thin better, but only so they could sway them towards their rebellious causes. Her concern was a great relief to Vakaal, who feared what he might be convinced to do, should she have taken to their dangerous cause.

Yet it was in a bookshop with just such a teardrop banner that Vakaal stumbled upon a book called The Uncaring Sky. The book was by a woman named Amira Brightcloud, and was about a female dragon. The concept fascinated Vakaal because in all his travels, he had so rarely seen stories about dragons. He happily purchased it, and took it home to read to Airn.

Although Airn could read almost as well as Vakaal by then, they adored their traditions. Airn herself told him she much preferred to hear a story told in his voice. They each found The Uncaring Sky mesmerizing. Together the cheered the dragon's triumphs, and sobbed for her tragedies. Airn found it a heartbreaking tale, yet satisfying in its grief. Vakaal, however, thought differently.

To Vakaal, The Uncaring Sky was a transcendent revelation.

For in its vengeful, blue-scaled anti-hero, Vakaal saw himself mirrored. Just like Vakaal, the female dragon in the story grew up with a loving family, and a wonderful tribe. And, just like him, she had everything torn away from her. She had her very heart ripped out, but through tragedy, she grew stronger. The pain that could not break her only forged her anew in fire. The world cast her as the villain. Yet, in her heart, the dragon who called herself The Wind That Carries knew she was the hero. Yet, by the end of the book, the line between hero, and villain, was no longer clear.

As they neared the end of the book, Vakaal wondered the same thing about himself. Brave Vakaal had slain the monsters, but had he truly set things right? Who took over for the monsters, when they were gone? Who was left to guide those worlds without their oppressors? Who was left to stop the Storytellers from returning someday? Had he truly made those worlds better, or had he been too blinded by vengeance to realize he was only making things worse?

Vakaal was no longer sure if h_e_ was hero, or villain, either.

He tried to push the thoughts, and the question away, in fear that it would inevitably lead him to the moment he had warned Airn about. Since he'd been with Airn, all the disparate versions of himself in his head had finally fallen silent. His memories of this place, of Airn, were entirely his own. For the first time since he'd been dragged through the sand, away from his home, he knew peace again.

But the seed was planted, and Vakaal could not help but question his place in things. The riddle was posed, and the voices in his head were already trying to answer it. They whispered, in his dreams, and in his waking hours, their words sometimes echoed. When his time with Airn ended, would he leave here as hero, or as villain?

It worried Vakaal that one answer always seemed louder than the other.

A few days after they finished The Uncaring Sky, Vakaal knew it was time to tell Airn the truth.

He framed it first as a story he wrote only for her. Each night, he read to her his latest chapter. Little by little, bit by bit, Vakaal built the truth before her unknowing eyes. He told her about his tribe, about his father, and about shaping, and the silly misadventures of his youth. He even told her about his affinity for handfruit, and how he used to share it with his father, by the oasis. But then the time came, for him to tell her men in robes, and everything they did to him. Airn was horrified by the story's tragic turns, crying for the terrified pup and his tortured father. When Vakaal could not speak the hardest parts without sobbing, she at last began to understand, that the urd'thin in the story was him.

Vakaal took her Airn back to the fountain where first they met. There, he finished the story. He told of his lonely travels, his fractured mind, his years of vengeance, and of the emptiness it left in him. And then, at last, he told her how he tried to end himself, and proved unable. Airn hugged him, as fiercely as he could ever remember. She cried against his shoulders, sobbing for all the pain he had endured. Vakaal sobbed with her. Together, they cried until all their tears were spent.

"I told you, before," Airn said, her voice a ragged whisper. "It doesn't matter to me, who you were, before." She squeezed him tightly, her face buried in his chest fur. "I care about the person you've become."

Such profound acceptance was more than he could have ever hoped for. "Thank you, Airn, for...for understanding. I was...afraid you'd-"

"Shush, now." Airn pressed a finger to his muzzle, sniffling. "No more fear. Whatever time we have left together, we cherish it, remember?" She kissed him, then stepped back, gently squeezing his hands. She smiled. "Now, if you're really what you say you are...show me something wondrous."

Vakaal laughed. "I'll start small, then." Behind him, all the water in the fountain turned to purest gold.

Airn gasped. "Is that..."

"Is what?" Vakaal looked at the fountain, but he'd already changed the gold back to water. "I don't see anything."

"You brat!" Airn punched him on the shoulder, giggling.

"You're brave, to punch a god." Vakaal turned back to her.

"Is that what you really are?" Airn wiped the last of her tears away, managing another smile. "Seemed a fairly minor miracle for a god."

Vakaal did not reply. Instead, he gently cupped her chin, and tilted her eyes up to the night sky. While she stared at the star-scape, he sent his shaping far, far away, deep into the infinite cosmos whilst all around them, everything froze. Specks of light in the night sky shifted, moving together, and little by little, miracle by miracle, Vakaal wrote her name with the stars themselves.

"Better?"

Airn's jaw dropped. She shivered and pressed herself to him. "Did...did you? Is that even..."

Vakaal only laughed, and let the world flow forward again. Airn's name remained written in the skies until she blinked, and then all the stars were back in their proper places. "Was that wondrous enough?"

Airn shook her head, rubbing her eyes, then stared at the sky again. "Did you really just...?"

Vakaal only shrugged, gently circling an arm around her. "What do you really want, right now? Give me something more tangible to work with."

Airn considered it, and then gently twined her fingers through his. A smile spread across her muzzle. "Hand-fruit."

Vakaal blinked, splaying his ears. "What about it?"

"It was your favorite, right? As a pup?"

He nodded once. "It was, but-"

"Then I want to share it with you." She bumped her nose against his, still smiling. "That's all I want, Mister God."

Somehow, Airn just kept staggering him. She could have asked him for anything, and he would have granted it. She could have asked him for riches beyond measure, or an army of dragons to do her bidding, or a world that called her queen. And she wanted none of it. All she wanted from the god she loved, was to share in some small, treasured part of the life he'd lost.

Vakaal had never loved her more.

"Hold on, tight then." He wrapped his arms around her, and waited as she did the same. He was not sure how safe his doorways in the darkness were for mortals, and he dared not risk her. But he a plan, just the same. "Ready?"

"I think so-"

Vakaal sent them far across her world, to a vast desert, its red-gold sands painted by silvery moonlight. Grand spires of red stone towered in the distance, like ancient sentinels, ever watchful. They arrived in a blink, and yet Airn clung to him, squealing. There was no fear in her, however, only exhilaration and wonder. Though it was not his desert, the feel of sand beneath his pads, and warm winds in his fur were achingly nostalgic. But he was not there for himself. He was there for Airn.

She finally pulled away, gazing around. She took a few wobbling steps, then fell to her knees, clutching at the sand. "It's...I've...we're in..." She lifted a hand, and sand fell through her fingers. "It's...so fine. It's almost soft."

"Mhm." Vakaal crouched next to her, scooping some sand as well. A thousand memories played through his mind, moments of joy and sorrow, laughter and tears. "This is the closest your world has to my old desert. Now." Vakaal pointed to an open stretch of desert. "Watch."

From barren sands, Vakaal shaped an oasis before her eyes. He filled it with the purest water. Hand-fruit trees sprung up all around it, growing from saplings to mature and bearing fruit in an instant. Vakaal showed her how to climb the trees, collect the fruit, and then to peel it. Airn gleefully followed his lead, determined to collect all her own fruit. When they had enough for a meal, they sat alongside the oasis, their feet resting in the cool waters.

As much as Vakaal relished getting to enjoy his favorite childhood food again, it wasn't quite the same. He had simply shaped it into being, and as such, it did not quite feel real to him. But none of that mattered because Airn was there, and Airn was as happy as he'd ever seen her. Airn rested her head against his shoulder, savoring the exotic sweetness of a fruit her world had never known.

"I've never seen anything like this." Airn stroked his arm, sighing. "Never dared imagined I'd ever _get_to see anything like this." Suddenly, she jerked her head up, sucking in her breath. Her ears perked. "Vakaal..."

Vakaal took a slow breath, flattening back his ears. He feared the question she was about to ask. She was going to ask him to use his powers, to help her people. It terrified Vakaal to realize that her city would burn, if she but asked him to set it alight, to set her people free. Instead,

"We can never tell anyone." She cupped his chin, pulling his head to stare into his eyes. "Ever."

Relief settled over him. "I know, Airn. But I couldn't keep deceiving-"

"You should have!" Airn slapped the back of his hand enough to sting. "I am genuinely moved you trusted me enough to tell me, and...I'm glad I know but..." She held up a single finger. "Promise me something."

Vakaal took her hand in his. "Anything you want, Airn."

"That's the problem, exactly. I don't want anything." She paused to offer him a little smile. "Well, maybe a little coin to spread around the Warrens, but...promise me this. If I'm ever anger at the way we're treated, if I yell that I wish the humans would all just die, or if I've ever had too much to drink, and I ask you to help us overthrow them...Don't."

"I promise, Airn."

"Thank you." She kissed his cheek, smiling again. "Our world, my life, it's...it's what we've made of it, and for better or worse, it's the life I'm meant to live. If I'm to better my place in this world, I want it to be on my own terms."

Vakaal pressed his head to hers. "That is...exactly the sort of lesson my father would have wanted me, to learn."

Airn nodded, swishing her tail across the sand. "Exactly. No one else would understand. She waved her free hand. "They'll want you to conquer the city. Or worse."

"Father used to say, once they know, they know." Vakaal scrunched his muzzle. "At least, I think he did. Sometimes I can't tell if that's his memory, or mine. But it means, once they know what you can do, they'll always want you to do more. It's why he never told the tribe."

"He sounds like he was very wise." Airn sighed, leaning against him again. "I don't want to be their conquerors, I don't to overthrow them. But some of the others would. They're just like those rebels. They don't understand that if we conquered the city with blood, and flame, we'd be no matter than the nobles themselves. Trust me, Vakaal, I want urd'thin to be seen as equals just as badly as anyone else, but not like that. Not through bloodshed, and not through..." She brushed her fingers across his head. "Some god's power. It has to come from...from..." She thumped her fist against her own chest. "From within, from their hearts, or it's meaningless. I think we just...maybe we have to help affect that change."

"Yes," Vakaal said, his voice barely more than a whisper. "You do."

Gently as he could, he touched her world's story, to see what lay ahead. What he saw made him shiver, but he also saw a great opportunity. One day there would be blood, and flame. And that would be her people's chance. To cast off their oppressors, and watch their city burn...or stand alongside them, and fight for a shared future, together. He stroked her ears, staring at her with a smile. One way or another, he knew she'd make the right choice.

Airn tilted her head. "What are you looking at me like that, for?"

"Just savoring your beauty." Vakaal kissed her muzzle.

"In that case, savor away." Airn pushed her muzzle to his, kissing him.

Vakaal returned her kiss, and eased her down onto the sand. They mated there, at the edge of the oasis, beneath the starlight. When they were spent, they slept curled together in the sand, until the sunrise woke them. They ate more fruit, and then swam in the cool oasis waters, before at last it was time to return to their home.

In the years that followed, Vakaal lived every day with Airn to the fullest. They wrote stories, they read books, shared meals and baths, and adventures untold in the city. They wrote stories, read books, shared meals and baths, and adventures untold in the city. They mated often, drank and plundered from those with riches undeserved. They lived together as urd'thin, and Airn never once asked him for anything more. Those were some of the best days of Vakaal's life.

On special occasions, Vakaal asked her permission to take her to all the beautiful and exotic places the world had to offer. They visited lands they'd only read about in stories, like the place where the rain fell in silver curtains, across green hills and spires of stone. They spent three days relaxing near a great and beautiful spring, where crystals nearly the size of dragons jutted from the ground. Together, they explored a swamp larger than most countries, ruled by a dragon who fancied himself a king. At each place, Vakaal sensed the pull of ancient powers, where primal forces still held sway. He discovered something, buried in the swamp, and had a long talk with the dragon about it, while Airn feasted on brambleberry tarts. He showed her deserts and oceans, forests and mountains, all the places the urd'thin of the city could only dream of.

They were never gone for more than a few days. As much as Airn cherished her chance to see such places, it was clear to Vakaal that her heart lay in that city. For all its cruelties to her people, it was nevertheless their home. It was the life she knew, and the life she was always happy to return to, even if it was a little less difficult with Vakaal around. More coin found its way to the Warrens than before, with more supplies, more food, better clothing and bedding, and so on. Never so much for anyone to become suspicious, just enough to improve their lives for the better.

Eventually, Vakaal sensed that their time together was growing short. He found himself strangely accepting of that fact, as if he'd known all along that peace was only an illusion for him. That one day, even here, in this place where he found acceptance and family, something would one day shatter that illusion.

"You know," Vakaal said, one night while laying in bed with Airn. "I could make this last forever, for us."

Airn only sighed and snuggled up to him. "No...you can't. It wouldn't be..." She fell silent, searching for the word. "Real. I would rather remember a beautiful life spent with you, then lose myself to some illusion of eternity. We cherish our lives, precisely because we know that one day, they'll be over."

Vakaal turned and cradled her, his voice soft. "Father tried to tell me the same thing. That...that all stories, have to end."

Airn kissed his muzzle. "And look what happened, when neither of you could let go."

"I know, it's just..." Vakaal closed his eyes.

"When the time comes, Vakaal." She kissed him again, then lay her head against his. "Promise me, you'll let our story end."

All at once, there was a voice in his head, somehow achingly familiar, yet foreign at the same time. Our story together, it has to end here. There was love, in that voice, love and sadness and inevitability. It sounded a little like Airn, but it wasn't her. Vakaal wasn't even sure if it was one of his memories. But who's, then?

You're not losing me, you're just...

Letting go of me a while.

That voice. There was something lovingly, intimately familiar about it, and yet he could never recall hearing it before. Somewhere, in his head, someone wept. Was...was that his Father's memory? Then who's voice was Father remembering?

The realization hit him in an agonizing flash. The words were his mother's, the day she died birthing him. All of Father's lessons rushed back to him, the things Father tried so hard to teach him, long before they were ever dragged from the desert.

This time, it was Father's voice in his head.

Vakaal, remember. Stories end for a reason. Sometimes we must let go, no matter how badly it hurts.

Vakaal sighed. Father had to let go, once, and so would he. Vakaal kissed Airn's head. "I will, Airn. I promise."

*****

Chapter Eighty Nine

*****

In a narrow alleyway, Vakaal leaned against a grimy wall. Generations of moss and lichen clung to the brick. The alley was cobbled, once, but what few broken cobblestones remained were buried beneath mud and filthy puddles. The alley rarely knew the sun's warmth. Shoddy wooden walkways spanned the dilapidated housing buildings on either side. Even when the sun was at its zenith, the walkways obscured it. The alley stank of refuse and urine. Vakaal doubted the humans who lived here had anywhere else to go.

In a funny way, the warrens were cleaner, more sanitary. But beggars and thieves had to operate on the fringes of human society to take advantage of whatever they could. The urd'thin he was with today were on street duty, along with some of the upper city locals that often worked with Airn. Together, they collected coin wherever they could. They'd beg from those willing and able to give, and they'd steal from those with more money than they deserved. Most of it was spent on food and drink to distribute amongst the warrens.

Vakaal was there to keep watch. Get caught by the wrong guard, and an urd'thin could get tossed in jail just for begging. If he was lucky, he'd get out again a few months later. But few urd'thin were ever lucky when it came to the jails and guards. Before Vakaal arrived, most jailed urd'thin never returned. Vakaal saw to it that their luck improved. Though he'd sworn not to make any fundamental changes, that didn't mean he could not help at all.

Counting Vakaal, there were six urd'thin in their group. All were male, as Airn and the females were in a different part of town today. Vakaal did not need to be near her, to keep her safe. Those hew watched over were part of her ancestral tribe. Most of them had brown fur, like she did. One had beige markings, and another black. Another had gray hands and feet.

Earlier in the day, they had made a good deal of coin, begging on some side streets. Now they lounged around on old crates, and a crumbling planter housing a long-dead tree. A couple of them counted their earnings, while a few more had a playful fight, pushing each other around and laughing.

"Hey Vakaal!" One of the other urd'thin called out, and pointed down the alley. "Fresh marks!"

The group all scrambled into place. They put away the coins they'd earned, and made themselves look extra haggard. One snatched a clean cloth out of a pack and stuffed the pack back into a crate. While they got ready, Vakaal appraised the mark. It was unusual for anyone worth begging from to wander down the alleyway. Nor were they muggers who would steal from someone equally down on their luck.

At the far end of the alley walked a short, somewhat pudgy man dressed in extravagant, colorful garb. A billowing, royal purple cloak flowed behind him as strode down the alley. A fancy, gold-hilted knife was strapped at his hip. He was flanked by four of the biggest humans Vakaal had seen in ages. All four of them wore plated mail, and bristled with weaponry.

"Look at this place, it's filthy!" The man paused to jab his finger against a guard's armor.

"You said you wanted a shortcut."

"No, I said I wanted to avoid the peasants, because I didn't want to be mobbed by beggars again!" The man waved a hand at the alleyway. "But this is worse! It's disgusting here."

"But it'll get you through town faster, and you won't have to deal with the peasants."

"Oh, you're right about that, all I've got deal with here is vermin." The man flicked his fingers at the urd'thin, then shook his head. "Wonderful. Get them out of the way."

Vakaal growled under his breath, his fur bristening. "Stay away from that one, and his men."

"But that's a nobleman!" Nork, the urd'thin with the clean cloth, trotted forward, speaking in their own tongue so the humans couldn't understand. "They'll do anything to get rid of us. Bet I can get an extra coin just cause he'll want us gone!" Before Vakaal could stop him, Nork trotted towards the noble and his bodyguards. He lifted his cloth, and switched into the human tongue. The urd'thin in the warrens rarely learned the nuances of the common language. "Nice boots, nice boots! I polish, very shiny! Two coin, two coin!"

Vakaal followed Nork, ready to intervene if required.

"Ew, it's coming this way!" The noble pulled his purple cloak tight, covering himself up as if to ward off the urd'thin. "Get rid of it! I don't want to share breath with that thing."

The nearest bodyguard stepped forward, a hand on the hilt of his sword. "Clear the way. Now."

As soon as the human touched his weapon, Vakaal was at Nork's side, with a hand on his shoulder. "Go back to the others."

Nork ignored Vakaal's warning. He clutched his cloth to his chest, and stared up at the humans with his ears drooping. "Much please, kind noble! Urd'thin have many hungry pups, not eat for days! Only one coin, one coin, yes? Good polish for nice boots!"

The noble sneered at him over his cloak. "If you've that many pups, maybe I ought to have you neutered!" Then he raised his voice, snarling at the group. "Maybe I ought to string you all up by your filthy little furry balls! Be less of you mongrels left to spread your verminry."

Nork growled, raising up his hackles. He had a knife hidden under his clothes, and he was good with it, but not good enough to take down four armored and well-trained men twice his size. Vakaal pulled Nork back, and turned him towards the rest of their group. "We're done here. Let's go back to the others." He walked Nork back a few steps, switching to the human tongue. "Have a nice day, Sir."

"Oh, this one actually speaks like a person!" The nobleman gave a derisive snort. "In that case, rat-dog, take your grubby brethren back to your hovels, and consider yourself lucky your pelts are too filthy to be of value, even as a doormat." The noble flourished his purple cloak, then wiped his hands on his golden shirt, as if they'd somehow become sullied just by being so near the urd'thin. He glanced at Vakaal. "And hurry out of the way, vermin, or I'll have your ears, to feed to my hounds."

Father screamed against his muzzle as the man in gold sliced away his ear.

Vakaal froze. The memory set his blood alight, and left angry things whispering in his head. Something in him cracked, some bulwark against the angriest of all the voices.

Vakaal pushed Nork towards the others, and turned back towards the noble. "You know, you remind me of someone I knew a long, long time ago."

"I don't care who I-"

"Funny though, I can never remember his name. Father erased it, I think." Vakaal folded his arms. He tilted his head, smiling at the noble. "But you're a lot like him, either way. It's not just the colorful threats. It's the attitude, it's the way you look down on us. Neither of you ever saw us as people. To him, we were tools to broken and molded anew into something useful. And to you, we're just rodents to be exterminated, because you don't like to remember we're here. I'm not sure which is worse."

"Well, aren't you the talker!" The noble glanced around at his bodyguards. "This one must be an educated rat! Probably sold off by his whore of a mother, to a circus, for some scraps of bread! Oh, or let me guess..." The nobleman flourished a hand, returning his attention to Vakaal. "Was a brothel she sold you to? I'm sure there's sick people out who can't wait to fuck a rat. Did they teach you to talk real nice, and put that muzzle to good use? Hell, maybe I oughta have you sold back to them."

The guards all laughed. They all had hands on swords, now.

Vakaal only smiled at him. "You've done things like that to my people before, haven't you? You're like a real villain, from an old story. Flamboyant, colorful, a way with words..." Vakaal looked him over, splaying his ears. "And a cold heart full of colder cruelty. This world would be better off if I killed you. But if turn around, right now-"

"If we turn around?" The nearest bodyguard uttered coarse laughter. "This little ratdog's a nutter, boss."

"So he is." The noble's lips curled in twisted smile. "Let's see how well he speaks when you cut off one of his ears."

In one swift, smooth motion, the man in gold yanked Father's ear upright, and sliced into it with his knife.

The angry whispers in Vakaal's mind grew louder. His ears twitched. All the anguished memories he'd long hidden away were crawling out again, slipping through the cracks the noble was opening with his every word. He glanced at the bodyguard. "You reach for me, and that hand will never work right again."

The human didn't listen. He drew his sword in one hand, and snatched for Vakaal's ear with the other. Vakaal caught the man's hand in a flash. It was twice as big as his own, and Vakaal dug his fingers through flesh and bone as if they were but soft clay. The man screamed and dropped to his knees, his sword clattering against the muddy ground. Vakaal let him go, and he clutched his ruined hand to his chest.

"Warned you."

"You little monster!" The noble screamed, indignant fury reddened his blotchy complexion. "How dare you assault my bodyguard! Do you have any idea who I am? I am Lord Asterbury, of the Twenty Fourth Province of Illandra! Little rats like you aren't even worthy to polish my boots with your blood! Somebody put steel in this rat's belly, I want to hear him scream!"

Father screamed against his bound muzzle. Again. And again. And again.

Vakaal twitched, the ground rippled around him. Angry music crept to life in his head. Something deep inside him finally broke beyond repair, and from the broken thing crept a monster.

The nearest bodyguard thrust a sword at him, and Vakaal met it with a roar. Windows blew out all down the alleyway. Brick walls cracked and shuddered. The sword stopped just before his belly, and dissolved away into sand. It's own dissolved with, staring in incredulous silence at his disintegrating arm before the rest of him crumbled.

"What the-"

The third guard never even got a chance to finish his exclamation before Vakaal flicked his fingers, hurling the man into the sky and across the city, like a stone from a sling. He too, decayed in an instant, and was soon nothing but deserts sands carried away on the breeze.

With a grunt of effort, the fourth guard snatched up the noble's arm, yanking him down the other way. They took off running together back the way they'd come. Vakaal until they were nearly out of the alleyway, then sent himself into the path, barring their way. This time, the last bodyguard standing dropped his sword, and held his arms up.

"I surrender! Please, whatever magic you're..." He glanced at the suddenly pallid noble, clawing at his arm, then shook him loose. "Look, I only took this job cause I needed the pay to take care of my kid! I'm sorry, please-"

"You were still gonna do it, weren't you?" Vakaal walked towards him, grasping the threads of the man's story. "You really hate urd'thin. I can see it. But..." He hesitated. The man wasn't lying about his child. Somewhere, across town, a six year old boy played with a wooden knight figurine, pretending it was his father. "But a boy needs a father. So I'll tell you what. I let you live, and you remember that urd'thin love our families too. You teach your kid what's right. You teach him to respect us, or I come back for you. Got it?"

The guard, as pale as any man Vakaal had ever seen, nodded once.

"Good. On your way then. Go hug your son." As soon as the guard sprinted away, the noble tried to follow, but Vakaal stepped in front of him. "Oh, I'm sorry, I got distracted. You wanted to hear a scream, right?"

Vakaal flicked his fingers, and hurled the noble right back down the alley. The nobleman screamed as he tumbled through the air, his purple cloak billowing behind him. He crashed into the first guard with the maimed hand, leaving them in a tangled, groaning pile.

Humming the song in his head, Vakaal hopped and skipped down the alley, dodging the muddy puddles. "How was that for a scream? About what you had in mind?"

Further away, the rest of the urd'thin had already fled. It was better that way. Vakaal already knew there was no coming back from this.

The injured guard pushed up onto his hands and knees just as Vakaal reached him. Vakaal kicked him in the head, flipping him over through the air. He hit the ground and rolled, coming to a stop in a crumpled heap. Vakaal pivoted back towards the noble, and stepped on his chest.

Vakaal leaned forward, grinding his foot against the man's sternum. "Now, what was it you said your name was, again? Lord...?"

"Asterbury!" The man wheezed, scrabbling helplessly at the urd'thin's foot, unable to dislodge him. "Lord Asterbury! Please! I'm...I'm very wealthy! I'm, a very important man, so whatever-"

"See, that's the problem with people like you." Vakaal snarled, and removed his foot, only to drop into a seated position on the man's chest, instead. He yanked the noble's knife free, then tapped the blade against the man's cheek. "People like you always think your lives are more important than ours. What was it you called us? Vermin?"

"I'm sorry! I...I didn't know-"

"You didn't know what, that I was powerful?" Vakaal swished his knife in the air. "Power and wealth don't change the value of a life! But people like you, they'll never see it that way, will they?" Vakaal leaned forward to snarl into his face. "To you, importance only comes with power, and wealth, and..." Vakaal tugged on his purple cloak. "Fancy clothes." He snorted, straightening up. "Bet if I was dressed like you, you'd have listened to me before it was too late."

"But...but..." Lord Asterbury panted, trying to wriggle free. "It's not to late. I could make you rich! Tell people you saved me from a mugging! You'll be renowned across the city, you'll be a gods-damned hero!"

"Funny you should say that." Vakaal swirled the knife in the air. "Because I thought I was a hero, once. I slew men filled with evil, for year after year, and yet, what good did it do? What stopped other evil men from taking their place? All I ever wanted to do, was set things right, but I went astray."

Vakaal's shoulders sagged. "Vengeance, all by itself, doesn't really change anything. And that's what I have to do." He lifted the knife, staring at his haunted gray reflection in its shining blade. "I have to make it meaningful. I have to push them, to make a change for the better, on their own. I wondered, for a while, if I would leave here as hero, or villain. And I...I think I know the answer, now. I know what I have to do."

"Please...I'll give you anything you want! Money, power? I can make you a very important little urd'thin!"

Vakaal pinned his ears back, growling. "Oh, you poor fool." He snarled, spittle flecking the man's face. "You have nothing to barter with. There's only one thing I want from yu."

"Anything!" The man held up his hands, shaking. "Name it!"

"That's just it!" Vakaal only laughed. "I want your name! Your name, and your title!"

"S-so you do want power!" The noble's eyes drifted towards the knife, wide and terrified. "I can get you a title, any title you want! Just let me go, please!"

Vakaal shook his head. "No, I want your name." He brushed the back of his hand across the noble's cheek, cooing to him. "I can see your life, you know." There were dead urd'thin, in his past. He really did see them as vermin. "You really_hate us, and that's what makes this perfect. I'm going to make people like you _tremble_before me. Everywhere I go, your name will be _terror. Your name will be known from world, to world, and it will be feared...as the name of an urd'thin." He lifted his voice, mimicking a frightened nobleman. "What was that horrible urd'thin called? The one who dressed like a noble!" Vakaal lowered his head, hissing into the man's ear. "Lord Asterbury."

Laughing, Vakaal straightened up again. "And best of all? Here, in this city?" Vakaal circled his knife in the air. "You'll only ever be remembered as the cruel, greedy noblemen who died the ignoble death, shanked by an urd'thin in an alley. I just wanted you to know that, before I killed you."

"No, wait-"

Vakaal plunged the knife into the noble's chest, then again, and again, and again, once for every urd'thin whose torture or death the man was responsible for. When his arms were aching, and his breaths came in heaving pants, he staggered to his feet.

"Alas, Lord Asterbury." Vakaal tossed the knife aside. "Murdered, by some filthy urd'thin beggar, in an alleyway. It's the ending you deserve."

Vakaal staggered away from him, his head swimming. Voices argued with each other in his head, one louder and angrier than all the rest. With the voices, came an old song. It was the same song he used to hear in his head when he as little, when he danced upon the dunes. If he remembered right, Father used to sing it to him as a lullaby, when he was but a tiny pup.

He sang it to himself now, as he stumbled home, and put his plan together.

*****

It was dark when Vakaal returned home. Airn was waiting for him, pacing before the tunnel entrance near their favorite fountain. When she spotted him coming, her eyes widened, and her white-tipped ears shot up. She gasped, and sprinted towards him, calling his name.

"Vakaal! Vakaal!" Airn skidded to a stop just before him, grasping his bloodied hand in hers. "What happened to you, are you hurt?"

Her fear shocked him out of the terrible reverie he'd been locked in. Only then did he realize he hadn't even bothered to wash the blood from his hands, or his clothes. He tried to reply, but faced with her terror, all the words fled him. She checked him over, gently brushed her hands over his body, examined his arms, and finally, her frightened eyes met his.

"It's not yours, is it?"

Vakaal shook his head.

"Are...you hurt?"

He shook his head again.

Her ears drooped, and she sagged against him, heedless of the blood. "It's...happening, isn't it? The moment you warned me about."

Vakaal took a shuddering breath, and managed a few words. "I didn't want it to happen, like this, but...I couldn't help it, he...said he was going to cut off my ears, and I..." Vakaal blinked back tears, his throat tightening. "I think there's something terrible in me, that's been...waiting. And-"

"You don't have to explain." Airn took his bloodied hand, squeezing it. "Nork told me what happened, before he fled. I was...scared for you, but I know I shouldn't be."

"I'm sorry, Airn." Vakaal wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tight. "I have to go, before it gets worse. Before I lose control of myself. I can't risk endangering you, or anyone else here."

Airn sniffled, easing away. "I know. But...stay with me, one more night?"

"Of course."

Airn took his hand, and led him back to the fountain where they'd first met. She stripped off his bloodied clothes. She threw them into the water, then took off her own clothing to bathe with him. Half in a daze, Vakaal sat in the cool water while Airn washed all the blood out of his fur, softly crying. She had always been kind, and understanding, and a soul as sweet as hers deserved a better life than this. Vakaal closed his eyes as she worked her hands through the fur of his neck. He whispered her story in his mind, and wove it into the world's fabric.

Airn lived a long, happy life. She accomplished great things, and all her people were proud of her. Airn great strides for all urd'thin in this world. She would be a hero, or a queen amongst her brethren, if she but wished it. Whatever she chose to do, she would succeed, and whatever happened...

"Airn lived a long, happy life." Vakaal, speaking the most important of the change aloud. A breeze rustled their fur, blew the fountain's spray against them, and his wish was woven into her story's weave.

"That's a sweet thought." Airn pressed her muzzle to his cheek, a gentle kiss.

When he was clean, Airn walked him home for the last time. Nearer the warrens, a few others came up to ask if he was alright. Word spread that he'd been in a fight with a noble and his bodyguards, but no one seemed to know what had happened. If Nork and the others saw him use his powers, they hadn't told anyone.

Once they were home, they undressed and lay in bed for a while, sharing each other's other's warmth and presence. As the hours grew later, they mated, held each other, and mated again till they were spent and exhausted. Vakaal cradled Airn, nuzzling her and licking her ears. He found her hand with his, and squeezed it.

"I'm glad I found you, Airn. Thank you for showing me happiness and hope, again. I had almost forgotten such things could exist in me."

Airn turned towards him, kissing his muzzle. "You deserve so much better..."

"I did." Vakaal sighed. "Once. Not anymore..." He lifted his hand. The blood stains were gone from his gray fur, but in his mind, he could still see them. "But Vakaal, he...he deserved so much better. And my father, too. But I think this is where Vakaal's story ends."

Airn lifted her head, pressing herself to him. "You say that as if Vakaal is someone else."

"I'm starting to feel like he is." He clutched her hand, lifting it to his muzzle to give it a tender lick. "But you quieted the noise in my head, Airn. I've been very happy here, with you. But there's a monster in me, and I don't think I can control him forever. But I have a plan to bend him towards something better."

Airn rested her chin against his shoulder, sniffling. "What plan?"

"I'm going to forge heroes, Airn." Vakaal scooted closer, waving his free hand in the air, as if painting a picture for her. "Heroes to guide their worlds, after the villain is gone."

"What do you mean?"

"I wondered, for a while, if when I left you, it would be as hero, or villain, and I've realized." Vakaal rolled to his side, to stare into her eyes. "I'm both. There is good in me, Airn, and there is evil. And I'm going to use them both." A snarl crept into his voice. "I'm going to let the monster loose, but I'm going to put a collar on him, he'll never even know is there." The snarl faded, and a smile replaced it. "I'm going to make myself the villain, because the story, the world, the universe, it all seeks balance."

Airn scrunched her muzzle. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Vakaal laughed, a happy, musical sound. It was good to laugh with Airn, one last time. "Airn, if I want to be, I am unstoppable. Imagine the kind of heroes it would take to try and beat me." Vakaal sat up, his tail wagging.

"So..." Airn tilted her head, concern in her eyes. "You're going to do...horrible things, to...try and find good people?"

Vakaal grimaced, rubbing his head beneath a horn. "Sort of? I'm...not explaining this very well. But that's what the collar will be for."

Airn giggled, cocking her head back the other way. "You'd look cute in a collar."

"A _metaphorical_collar." Vakaal laughed again, resting his back against the wall. "Let me try and explain it better. I'm...I'm going to use my powers, to turn myself into a villain."

"Like from a story?"

"Exactly like from a story." Vakaal held his hand out, and above it an image sprang to life, of himself dressed in golden clothes, with a long, purple coat. "I'm going to base him off that hate-filled, murderous noble I killed. Going to use his name, and everything. And everywhere he goes, the villain will be hunting the Storytellers, just like I was. He'll have...my memories, more or less." The image flickered, and then there were two of them, and then four, each a little different. Another flicker, and they folded back into one another. "But I can't let him remember everything. He can never remember how strong he _truly_is. He...he has to believe, some things are difficult for him. And he has to believe that he can make it home..." Vakaal licked his nose, sighing. "To his desert, and to his father."

"Why?" Airn gently squeezed his hand.

"It will keep him going. I...I can't let him open doors, to other worlds." He returned her squeeze. "But he has to think that's part of his goal. To tear the Storytellers, off their thrones, and make his way home. But he'll only be able to transit, world to world, when he loses control, like I used to. So I'll have to make sure his gates are...more stable than he thinks they are. But that's the collar's job." He shifted towards her, smiling. "I'm going to hide things from him, memories, abilities. I won't let him open doors to other worlds, I won't let him get _too_strong. And I'm going to give him directives to follow, even if he never knows it. Hunt the storytellers, but don't harm the innocent, things like that." He drummed fingers against their meager bed. "I just hope he doesn't slip the collar, but...one thing at a time, I suppose."

Airn rested her head against his. "How...how are you going to make sure he doesn't? Slip the collar, I mean. How do you make sure those hidden memories stay hidden?"

"That's...a little more complicated." He murmured to himself, splaying his ears. "I think I'm going to have to ask Vakaal."

Airn snatched his chin tightly, yanking his muzzle around to face. "You're Vakaal. Whatever you...you're going to do to yourself, you haven't done it yet. You're still Vakaal. You'll always be Vakaal, to me."

"Sorry, Airn." Vakaal kissed her nose. "I meant, I have ask..." He trailed off, tapping his head. "Father...did something to my head, when the world was ending all around me."

His Father's voice echoed in his head. The pup should always be pure.

"I think I'm starting to understand what he did." Vakaal listened for a moment, to all the distance noise inside his head. Somewhere, far, far away, a pup was a singing. "I think there's some version of happy child I was, once, that Father crystallized inside my head. Safe, peaceful, and waiting. I'm going to ask him to help me. He's going to have to be the one who keeps the collar on the monster, because I..." Vakaal trailed off, unable to say it aloud.

"Because...because what?" Airn stared at him, then gasped when it hit her. "Vakaal, no!"

"I told you, Airn." Vakaal cupped her head, wishing more than anything he could just shape her pain away. But even if he did, it wouldn't be real. "This is where Vakaal's story ends. What I'm going to do, there's...there's no coming back from."

"Oh, Vakaal..." Airn pressed her face to his chest, crying again. "Vakaal, no..."

"I'm sorry, Airn." Vakaal stroked her ears, fighting back tears of his own. "But the monster is growing in me, one way or another. I would rather erase myself and bend him to a purpose, then let him devour me." He took a slow, shuddering breath. "So I'll make myself a great, and powerful villain. I'll set in motion a grand confrontation, I'll hunt down the storytellers, and the story will choose its heroes. And then I'll know."

Airn lifted her head, wiping her eyes. "Know what?"

"Who is truly fit to rule that world." He leaned his head against hers, sighing. "Although I'll never remember it, that will be my real purpose. I'll be making heroes, and handing them their world, to forge anew."

"Do you..." Airn stroked his arm. "Really think it will work?"

Vakaal's ears drooped. "I don't know. But...I spent far too many years tearing the storytellers out, without ever stopping to think about what would fill that void. If I can balance that, now, if I can help put good people into positions of power, then...then I have to try."

Airn took a long, slow breath, and then heaved a great sigh. "It must be so frightening."

Vakaal sagged, all at once, slumping against her. He had been so busy considering the details, the implications, trying to plot things out in a hurry, he hadn't really stopped to consider what it meant. What was going to happen to him. Every part of him quavered, cold and trembling. "It's...terrifying, actually."

"I can't imagine." Airn snuggled up to his side, still sniffling. "Can I do anything to help, before you go?"

"Just hold me, tonight. When the years pass me by, again, and I'm lost in the darkness..." In that moment, there was nothing Vakaal wanted more, than to be loved, while there was still something in him worth loving. "I want to remember, that I was loved, once."

Airn cradled him in her arms, a sob breaking through. "You are. You are. And, I want you to hear it, before you go. I love you, Vakaal. I love you."

"I love you too, Airn." Vakaal buried his face against her body, and for the very last time, cried into Airn's fur. "This is as good a place as any for Vakaal's story to end. Because if it ends with you, at least it ends happily."

*****

Chapter Ninety

*****

In his dreams, Vakaal stood on familiar golden sands. Dunes stretched endlessly in impossibly perfect lines. A warm breeze ruffled his fur, and hot sands shifted beneath his toes. The sky above him was as blue as he'd ever imagined it, and yet curved lines of spheres spanned it, glimpses of distant worlds and parallel existences. Somehow, a weave of infinite stars shimmered in the sky, radiating soft music.

Starlight glimmered on water on the horizon. From afar, it shimmered like a mirage, and yet Vakaal knew it was not. Vakaal crossed the sands quickly, his heart swelling at the sight of the familiar oasis. It was just as he remembered from his childhood. All the handfruit trees and other plants were in just the right place. Water lapped at the wet shoreline in tiny waves. The only things missing were the ruins they once sheltered in, yet he who dwelled here had no need of them.

At the waters edge knelt a tiny pup. Pale, gray furred covered him head to toe. His ears were too big for his body, his horns but tiny nubs. The pup piled wet sand with his hands, building a tiny castle. He sang to himself as he built, a familiar song Vakaal once sang to himself as he danced across the dunes. The same song father used to sing to him as a lullaby.

"Hello." The Pup spoke without glancing away from his work.

Vakaal reverently knelt down across from him. Even kneeing, he still towered over the younger urd'thin. Vakaal could never remember being so small. "Hello."

"Are you here to build with me?" The Pup finally looked up, hope shining in his eyes and in his smile.

"No," Vakaal said, shaking his head. He scooped up went sand, and let it fall from his fingers in clumps. "I don't think so."

"Oh." The Pup's ears drooped, and his smile faded. He glanced down at his work, sighing. "I guess it's not time, yet."

Vakaal rubbed damp grit between his fingers. "Time for what?"

"To build together." The Pup picked up more sand, and worked it into a little wall around his fanciful keep. "I'll keep waiting, then."

Vakaal splayed his ears, suddenly unsure how he'd gotten here. Had he come here to ask The Pup for help, or was it the other way around? "What would we build?"

The Pup lifted his head again, a little smile returning to his snout. "Everything. But if it's not time yet, if you're not ready, then I can't tell you."

"You know, it's funny." Vakaal shifted, sitting cross-legged on the sand. "Growing up, I never even knew what a castle was. I probably would have liked making them, though. At least, the ones made of sand."

The Pup swept a hand over his creation, and the castle was gone. In it's place was an entire tribal village. There were dozens of circular homes of various sizes, walls built of wood, and bricks of baked straw and clay. Reeds covered their woofs. Dozens and dozens of urd'thin walked amongst them, living, working, cooking, playing with their children. Others trekked off into the desert to go hunting, or towards the oasis to fish. Compared to their diminutive size, the real oasis may as well have been an entire ocean awaiting them.

"That's..." Vakaal trailed off and chuckled, swishing his tail across the ground. "I was going to say impressive, but I guess it's easy for-"

"This one's us!" The Pup pointed to a miniature child, riding on his father's shoulders. A female urd'thin walked alongside them, laughing.

Vakaal leaned in, inspecting it. "Is that..." He swallowed, staring at the tiny, moving sculpture of his mother. "Is that what could have been? The life we should have lived?"

The Pup only shrugged, smiling. He picked up a few urd'thin, shifting them around. When he set them back down, they moved of their own according, carrying out their daily lives as if they were real people, totally ignorant of the god-pup pulling at their strings. Vakaal watched a while, tracking the progress of the ones who represented his lost family.

"You know, I can't quite tell." Vakaal traced a few fingers in the sand. "Did I send myself here, or did you call me? I thought I brought myself, but..."

He gazed across the oasis. Suddenly, it's sparkling blue-green water stretched on further than he could see. He blinked, rubbed his eyes, and still the expanse of water, seemed endless. Vakaal looked up, only to see two great urd'thin looming over him, one larger than the other yet each the size of a mountain. Starlight painted them shining, silvery hues. He gasped, pivoting on his heels. Houses of wood, clay brick, and reed thatch surrounded him. Dozens of urd'thin walked everywhere, chatting about their daily lives, about harvests and hunts, about a couple's engagement, a child on the way, the coming rains. None of them seemed to notice him.

"I don't know if I can do it." The Pup took his hand, walking at his side. "What you need me to do."

Vakaal took a slow, deep breath, unsure of who was guiding who. With his free hand, he felt his face. It felt a little different, a little more angular. Was he just unused to the feeling of his own face? How long had it been since he'd paid it any attention? At least since the day he stopped aging. Or...was he walking now, as his Father?

Holding the pup's hand, he walked on. "You already know what I need you to do? I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. I wasn't sure if you were even...separate? Awake? I..." Vakaal shook his head. "I don't really even know how to describe it, but...somehow I knew you there." He tapped a finger to the side of his head, then lifted his gaze again. He stared at the sky, far beyond the frozen forms of the towering, silver-white urd'thin. "Or...are we somewhere else, now?"

"We're everywhere." The Pup squeezed his hand, smiling up at him. "We're always everywhere. And I've been awake a long time, now. Waiting for you to come build with me. But...it's not time yet." He glanced down at his feet, his tail hanging limp.

"I don't know what you mean, but..." Vakaal licked his nose, following a trail towards the water's edge. The urd'thin he passed stirred memories of his days in the tribe, but none of them seemed truly familiar. He was not sure if he had forgotten their names, or if they never existed at all. "I do need you to build something, for me."

"I know." The Pup gave his hand another reassuring squeeze. "You want me to build a collar, so you can a build a monster."

Vakaal tapped his chest, just over his head. "The monster's already here, and I think he's been there a very, long time. All I'm going to do is let him out."

The Pup shook his head, sadness hanging heavy in his voice. "No. It's going to be worse than that, but I know you have to do it."

Vakaal stopped to stare down at The Pup. "You already seem to know even more about it than I do. So..." He swished his tail a few times. "You must know the voices, in my head, the...the other versions of me..." He let go of The Pup's hand to ruffle the fur between his ears. "Of us. They're...louder again, lately. Angrier. And _listening_to the angriest part of us, with the deepest pain. After what happened with that noble, I know I can't hold that monster back forever, so I have to try to shape him into something useful while I still can. Will it work? My idea. If I guide him in ways he'll never know, will his presence help forge heroes to take the storytellers' place?"

A smile flitted across Vakaal's muzzle. "It will. A story seeks balance, and it will always seek a hero, to balance a villain. And the greater the villain-"

"The greater the hero." Vakaal nodded. "I know. That's the idea. I'm going to base him off some urd'thin-hating noble." He took a breath, then let out a long sigh. "I doesn't matter what happens to me, in the end, does it? I'm going to end up a monster, one way or another. But as long as something good comes of that monster, I can live with that." Vakaal lifted his hands, stared at them, then gave a bitter laugh. "Or not, as the case may be. I guess I won't die, but...I won't really exist anymore, either." He lowered his hands, turning towards The Pup. "But you will."

The Pup sloshed out into the water, his tail swishing. "Uh huh! I'll be waiting, till it's time for us to build together, at last."

Vakaal chuckled, sloshing after him. "I still don't know what you mean."

"You will, but not until you're meant to." The pup flopped down into a seated position, the water up to his chest now. "So what do you want me to do? How do I collar the monster?"

Vakaal settled down as well. Somehow, the water seemed deeper for him, than it did for the pup. Waves washed across his shoulders. The waters were warm, and calming, soothing him. "I gave it a lot of thought, last night. I thought of...of a keystone, for him to follow, like I told Airn. So that's first." He lifted his arm from the water, gesturing with a dripping hand. "His base goal is to make it home to his desert, and reunite with his father. Other than that, he wants to end the storytellers forever, and liberate their colonies. Basically, I was doing, years ago."

"Uh huh." The Pup waggled his fingers over the water, and a tiny, cloaked urd'thin sprang up from the waves, battling armies of robed men. "But what if the storytellers have changed, and are doing good things now? Or what if they only colonized a world that was empty? Or what if there's innocent people in the way? What if he tries to hurt-"

Vakaal held his hands up for silence, smiling. "Guess now I know how father felt whenever I'd ask him more questions than he could answer all at once. One thing at a time. So first, we have his goals. Second, we address how he pursues them." He lowered his arms, drumming fingers against the water, making little splashes. "He can't just show up and wipe out the storytellers, then vanish. It'll leave a void, with no way of knowing who, or what, may fill it. The world, the story, they need time to choice their heroes. So everything will be a game to him. He'll start small, act like a bandit, or some small time criminal, or some foreign noble scheming for power, it'll be different every world, I think. But he'll cause more trouble, make himself a threat, and eventually, heroes will rise to try and stop them. And he'll test them, even if he doesn't know he's testing them. They'll think they can beat him, he'll seem to have weaknesses..."

"Healing." The Pup rubbed a soaked arm, ruffling sopping fur. "Healing always gave us gave trouble, when they made us heal Father. We could always do it, but...because we doubted that, it might it difficult."

"Right. Good thinking, Pup." Vakaal reached out and tapped The Pup's nose with a single finger. "Boop."

"Hey!" The Pup giggled, clutching his muzzle with both hands.

"You'll make healing difficult for him, sometimes, so that even he's not sure if he can do it." Vakaal scrunched up his muzzle, growling under his breath. "Until he has to. That'll give the heroes something they think they can exploit. And when they've been tested, when they've proven himself...I'll weave something into his very presence, some...grand, world-altering shaping that will ensure the people who try the hardest to stop him, just because it's the right thing to do...they'll take the storyteller's place, one way or another. It won't matter if they stop him, or not. And then, when it's done...he'll cast himself into another world, in search of more storytellers, and start the process over."

The Pup scratched at the nub of a budding horn. "I don't think you should let him travel like that."

"Actually, that's going to be one of the rules for the collar." Vakaal swirled a finger, and a black collar appeared in the air, carved with ancient sigils. "These things, they could never truly bind us. But if he doesn't know it's there, he won't try to cast it off. So rule number one, he can never know you're actively working against him."

A smile spread over The Pup's muzzle. "All he'll ever hear is my song, just like when I sing to you."

"You...you sing to me?" Vakaal blinked, rubbing the back of his head. "I guess I hear the song, now and then, but...I never realized..."

"And neither will he." The Pup slapped his hands against the water, just to watch the splashes. "He can even talk to me, if he wants."

Vakaal eased back onto his hands, sinking up to his neck. "Perfect. Then rule number two is, he cannot ever open a doorway like I do, or activate a gate like the storytellers do. Remember how, when I was little, my powers got away from me, and tore a hole in the sky?"

The Pup shivered at the moment, nodding in silence.

"When the time comes, you have to tear a hole, for him." Vakaal tilted his head back, staring at the sky. The lines of spheres and the blanket of stars looked immeasurable, now. "You can keep it safe, keep it under control, but it has to frighten him. Let him think if he loses control, he'll shatter the sky, and ruin everything." His voice dropped to a whisper. "Just like we did before."

"So...make him think his anger, or sadness, or...even his excitement, over killing the storytellers has...made him lose control?" The Pup scrunched his muzzle. "That sounds difficult."

"It will be." Vakaal turned his attention back to The Pup. "But I know you can do it, pup. I believe in you."

"Thanks, Father."

Vakaal blinked, glancing at his reflection. His own father stared back at him. He blinked a few times, till his blurry vision shifted, and he saw himself again. "That's not funny."

"But you _sound_like Father."

Vakaal took a deep breath, holding it till his lungs burned. "I suppose he's part of me, now, anyway." He straightened up, to slap a hand against the water and splash The Pup, making him giggle and shield himself. "Anyway, you have to open the gate, in the sky, because you can keep it stable. Pull him through it, toss him into a new world with storytellers, and set him to starting up his game again. But never." Vakaal shook a single finger at The Pup. "Ever let him open up a door, or activate gates. He can't be allowed to travel freely. Even if it means you have to scramble up his memories to keep him from wondering why he keeps ending up somewhere new, each time he wins or loses. Which...brings us to rule three."

"He can't remember who he is." The Pup wiped down his face. "Right?"

"Right. In a basic sense, and a..." Vakaal waved a hand. "Cosmic sense, for lack of a better term. The first part shouldn't be hard." He stared down at his reflection again. Each little wave that swept across the water shaped it anew, from Vakaal, to his Father, and back again. "Even I don't always remember. I'm...sort of every version of us, I think, so you may as well embrace that. Let his mind draw from bits and pieces of everyone's memories, and let him fill in the blanks, or stumble over them as needed. But, he can never, ever remember what he really is. It's like the riddle. Once I knew it was all my story, once I accepted that, then there was no part of it I could not change. Let him think he's a shaper, or an old story's hero, or hell, even a demi-god. But you must always conceal his true power. He can never know he was a god."

The Pup nodded, splashing his hands against the water's surface again. "No godhood. Got it."

Vakaal tilted his head, grinning. "Are you really paying attention over there?"

"I'm never _not_paying attention." The Pup giggled, glancing at Vakaal. "That's why Father left me in charge of you, and that's why you're leaving me in charge of The Monster."

"That's right, so..." Vakaal blinked. "Wait, what? Father left you in charge, too?" He splayed his ears, then grunted. "You know what, forget it. So, rule four. Also memory related. I'll...leave that up to your discretion, but beyond his godhood, there's some things he can't ever remember. Like the extent of his powers, some of his abilities, and so. You're going to have to hide a lot of things from him, make him forget about them, keep him from accessing some of his powers, and so on. And he can't know things like the fact he's...basically a construct, we shaped into existence. Or that he can't really die, I don't think. He'll guess, and that's fine, but...I think you understand the sort of things he can't remember."

"Yup, yup, yup." The Pup lifted both his hands, and water flowed up after them, coiling around his fingers in fine tendrils. "What about hurting people, though?"

Vakaal shook his head. "I don't want him hurting anyone who doesn't deserve it, but...you're gonna have to do the best you can. Keep him focused on the storytellers, remind him that plenty of other people who work for them are innocent. Most of their colonists are probably just looking for better lives, for themselves. Try and get him to focus on liberating worlds unjustly conquered, like ours was, or slaying storytellers who are truly evil. Like...that golden-bastard who used to torture us. Nudge him towards letting the innocents, or redeemable go, whenever you can. I know it will be difficult, but I believe in you, Pup."

For the first time, The Pup looked worried. He wrung his hands, whined, and looked away. "I'll try. But...he's going to become very, very strong. And the more I hide things, the more he'll start to notice. I'll go well, at first, but world by world, The Monster is going to get stronger..." The Pup swallowed. "We can't forget, forever. Someone always has to remember."

"I know, Pup," Vakaal said. He reached out and squeezed The Pup's shoulder. "I'm sorry that has to be, but...you'll remember for both of us. We should...build a failsafe, though. When you feel yourself losing control, or when you're feeling worn out, do what I did." He pulled his arm back, smiling. "Guide him somewhere he find peace, for a while. Let the monster rest, a while. And while he does, you rest too. While he stops pulling at those threads, you sleep. Sleep, and get your strength back. Because when the monster wakes again, you have to be ready. He's going to be stronger, and you...you have to be ready to stop him."

The Pup swallowed, turning his eyes back towards Vakaal. Fear shone in them. "What if he's _too_strong? What if...I can't wake up?"

"That's what our failsafe, is for." Vakaal scooted closer, cradling The Pup's head between his hands. He called to his power, his shaping, and he wreathed it around The Pup. "One day, when a Hero calls your name, calls your true name, you will wake. You will wake, and you will be stronger than ever. And you will stand before The Monster, and The Monster will back down. And...and then you'll know it's time."

The Pup closed his eyes, leaning into Vakaal's touch, like a child savoring his father's gentle and loving affection. "Time for what?"

"Time to end all this. That there's no more storytellers to slay, no heroes to raise, and no more stories left for us to tell ourselves." Vakaal rubbed The Pup's ears, then leaned in and kissed his nose. "And you know, it's time to bring The Monster home, Pup. Time for this to end."

"You're right, Pup." All at once, it was Father looming over him. Father cradling his head. Father, gently pushing him down, beneath the water. "It is."

Vakaal sunk beneath the water, and through its murky, waving depths, saw his father smiling. He wondered, as he drew the water into his lungs, who was truly unleashing who.

*****

Vakaal jerked awake, just before dawn. He was still in Airn's bed, and she was still fast asleep. His whole body trembled. He grasped for the dream, but it's images, words, and wisdom fled from him like dew beneath the sun. He knew, at least, that The Pup was ready. But what else had happened? The harder he tried to remember it, the less he could recall. It left Vakaal wondering if The Pup had already started erasing things.

In that case, he thought, he'd better move quickly.

Vakaal leaned down, and gently kissed Airn just between her horns. He kept his voice soft, and used his shaping to ensure she remained asleep. "Thank you for sharing your life, with me. One day, a choice will to come you. Whether to flee this place that so mistreats you, and let it burn...Or to join with your oppressors, and help them save your home." He eased back, taking her hand between his. "I know you'll make the right choice, and I promise you, you'll live to a see a better world, for urd'thin." He knew, because he had already woven it into her story. Vakaal took one last look at her, sleeping so peacefully. "Good bye, Airn. Thank you for showing me love, again."

He took a shaking breath, and sent himself far, far outside the city. Vakaal found himself in the middle of a field, dotted here and there with trees. It was storming heavily. Winds whipped driving rain against his fur. Bolts of blinding white lightning tore through the sky, followed by bone-rattling rumbles of thunder. It was as if the world itself was angry over what Vakaal was about to do.

Fear filled Vakaal like he'd rarely known. This was it. This was where his story ended. After this, there would be no more Vakaal. At least, no more him. One day, if things went right, this form, this...physically body, it would be The Pup's, again, ready at last to live a full life of his own. But for now...

"L-Lord Asterbury..." Vakaal's voice came out a trembling rasp. Cold fingers squeezed his heart. A empty pit filled in his belly, filled only with an overwhelming desire to return to Airn and live at her side, forever. But it would never work, the monster was coming, one way or another. All he could do was bind it to a greater purpose. "Now, or never, Vakaal. Just...get it over with." He took a few deep breaths, steadying himself.

Vakaal cast his arms to the sky, and this time, his voice came out a roar. "Lord Asterbury was a great and powerful villain!" With his words, came shaping, and power, of a strength had had scarcely ever dared summon. He turned it all inwards, wreathing himself in his shaping, bidding it to change him, to erase him, and remake him anew. "There was no more Vakaal!"

Indigo lightning erupted all around him, and not from the storm. It seared grass, burned trees and brushes. The same lighting streaked through his mind, slicing through his very being. Cutting away pieces of his mind, reassembling them as something else. Something new. His cold terror only grew and grew, yet still he pushed on. There was no other way. It had to be done.

"Everywhere...Lord Asterbury went, heroes would rise!" More indigo lightning crackled across the sky. The earth rippled and twisted around his feet. Reality itself shimmered, as everything changed. "All stories would change for Lord Asterbury! Great heroes would always follow in his wake, and guide their worlds forever after!"

Pain poured through him like blood, steady and constant. Again, he forced his power to change him completely. Words were getting difficult. "There was no more Vakaal! There was no more Father! There was...only...Asterbury! Wherever he roams, whatever worlds...he walks! Heroes are forged! Their worlds...theirs to guide...and shape anew!"

Somewhere, far above him, the deep blue lightning coalesced into a writhing sphere. With his last conscious thoughts, Vakaal sent his shaping to it, opening a doorway, deep in the sphere. With the gate opening, trees were torn free, and cast into the void. Scorched earth and stones were torn free as well, hurtling into the sky.

As the gate's power lifted him from the ground, as Vakaal tumbled towards the sky, he gave in at last to the darkness, to the madness, and to the monster, waiting with him. By the time the gate cast him into the void, there was no more Vakaal, no more Father.

There was only Asterbury.

A villain, to forge a hero.

*****

Chapter Ninety One

*****

Mother waded ashore, dragging Korakos through the water with her wing. "I know, Love, I know, you want to keep swimming. But we have to find a place to sleep for the night. I don't wish to linger by that gateway any longer. It makes me uneasy."

Korakos clutched the edge of Mother's wing in a forepaw, paddled his back feet against the water until he felt the soft marsh bottom beneath them. He released her wing and sloshed up onto the bank, shaking himself. "Where are we going, Momma?"

"I saw a rock outcrop I think we can shelter under for the night." Mother shook her body, waves of droplets flying through the air. "After that, further south. If that stone is a map, than I think the markings on it indicate human settlements."

"Humans?" Korakos bounced on his paws. "There's humans here?"

Mother flattened back her spines, glancing at the wound along her underbelly. It was better healed these days, but still looked an angry reminder. "Many of them I suspect. Your Father..." She swallowed, and lifted her head. "They made him their slave, once. Though...later, he befriended them. Saved them. But that was a long time ago, and...I would dare not venture close to such creatures, now. Not with you still so young. And I know not their language. So for now, we go south. Are you ready, love?"

Korakos nodded, tightening his wings against his body. "Uh huh!"

The hatchling squeaked when his mother scooped him up in a foreleg, and clutched him against her chest plates. She glanced down at him, smiling. "Brace yourself, Love. The air here is different, and ascension is...intense."

As soon as Korakos was prepared, Mother leapt into the air. She rose faster and sharper than she ever had before, and the hatchling's stomach tumbled into his tail. He squealed, the sound short and clipped, and clutched his mother's forelimb tight as he could. The ground dropped away in an instant, spiraling beneath them in a dizzying array of blue water, green vegetation, and gray stone.

"It's...so different here!" Mother's voice was strained, as if all her attention was drawn to her flight. Her body wobbled a little in the air as she worked her wings, fighting with her flight. "The air is thin, almost _too_thin! Every...wing stroke is...too much!" Mother leveled off, and stretched her wings out to their limits. "But I feel like I could glide here forever!"

Once mother's flight had steadied, Korakos stared over her foreleg, and out across the world. The marsh spread on endlessly, clean, pure water as far as he could see. In one direction, a thick, lush forest covered them marsh. Wooden structures peeked from the trees in one place. Mother banked, and in the distance, gray mountains smudged the horizon. He had never seen mountains, before. Back home in the swamp, mother told him they used to be there, before the poisoned water swallowed them. Korakos wondered if this was what his home looked like, before the water rose.

Towards the west, the sun sank towards the earth. It shone, brighter and more vibrant than anything Korakos had ever imagined. Its brightness was so intense he half feared it would burn away his eyes, sear away his scales, and yet the warmth of its light brought comfort. He stared at its reflection, a golden beacon glimmering on the wavering water.

Mother banked away, and two shapes moved in the sky, back towards the north. At first he thought they were birds, but if so, they were the largest birds he had ever seen. And though they were very far, it looked as if they had too many legs to be birds. On rare occasions, mother brought back birds with legs for them to eat, but these things were much larger than that. Whatever they were, they were almost as large as his mother.

"Momma..."

"I see them." Mother's voice sharpened. "We'll land soon, and hope they haven't seen us." She tightened her wings a little, descending. "If they have, I'll put them behind my wings, and see how fast I can really fly in this place's thin air."

"What are they?" Korakos whimpered. He didn't like it when his mother sounded nervous.

"I don't know. Your father had a word for them, I think. In the human tongue. He called them Gear Fins, maybe. Some of them were his friends. "

"Maybe they're father's friends." Korakos strained his neck, trying to keep watching the gear fins as mother banked away. They flew low, swooping back and forth, as if searching for something on the ground. "What are they looking for?"

"Hunting, probably. I don't want to have to..." Mother sighed, shifting her to her other foreleg. "I'm tired, Love. It would be easier for me to keep you safe through flight, than battle. I can't talk to them, anyway, I have...I have to assume they're dangerous. I have to keep you safe."

As they neared a small, rocky rise jutting up from the water, Mother extended her hind legs. She touched down in the shallows around the rocks, then stumbled a few paces on three legs. When she stopped, she set Korakos down, and gestured with her head. "There's a little cave of sorts under that big ledge. But don't go in there yet. Let me make sure it's safe."

Korakos clambered over mossy stones as he waited on mother's word that everything was safe. He peered up at the sky, but could no longer see the gear fins hunting in the distance. The hatchling wandered around, climbing atop a large, rounded boulder crusted in yellow lichen. The place they landed as not much more than a stony hill in the middle of the water. Strange creatures hopped around in the shallow waters around it. The largest of the stones jutted up above the rest, creating a small cavern that would shelter them from the elements, and also from prying eyes in the sky. Most of mother vanished under the rocky ledge, with just her tail jutting out.

The hatchling skulked up over the other rocks, approaching her tail. It's spiny, finned tip waved back and forth in the air, daring him to catch it. With a little snarl, he leapt from his perch and snatched Mother's tail in his grasp. She yelped in surprise, jerking her tail up, and Korakos hung from it, hind legs kicking. "I got you now, momma!" He laughed and gnawed at her finned tail spines.

"Yes, love, you certainly do." Mother curled her tail as she carefully turned around inside the little cavern. "It's safe in here, and there's enough room for us to spend the night." She set her tail against the ground until the dragon climbed off of it, then settled onto her belly. "There's a path to the water there, between the rocks, if you get thirsty."

Korakos walked to the edge of the little cave, staring down at the water. "Can I go swimming again Momma?"

Mother shook her head. "Not right now, my love. You'll have plenty of time to swim later. Mother is very tired." She lay her head against the ground, smiling at him. "The sun is setting. It'll be dark soon, and I need to sleep. I don't want you wandering around out there without me, alright? We don't know what is safe here and what isn't, yet."

"Yes, Momma." Korakos turned back towards his mother. "Tell a story? Before you sleep?"

"Hrrrmm...I could try." Mother shifted onto her side, crooking a foreleg in invitation. "Come get comfortable. I know you're excited, but you need your sleep, too. You can't have had much last night."

The little dragon padded over and settled in between his mother's foreleg and her body. He snuggled into her warmth, then lay his head against her. Between her warm comfort, and the reminder of how little sleep he'd gotten recently, drowsiness quickly settled over him. But he wasn't going to give up that easy.

"Story time!" Korakos swatted her foreleg. "I want a happy story!"

"Alright, alright." Mother curled her neck to lick him. "A happy story, hmm? I know one with a surprise happy ending, if you'd like that."

"Yeah!" Korakos clapped his forepaws. "Happy ending!"

"Very well. This is a story your father once told me, long before you were born. About a world very different from ours, with cold, and ice, and snow. It's about a human."

"Ooooh!" Korakos gave a little trill. "I wanna see the snow!"

"Maybe you will, someday. This world..." A wistful smile spread over Mother's muzzle. "Our new home...it may yet know snow. So, the story. In this tale, the human is a female, and she's hunting a dragon."

The hatchling gasped. "She's a bad guy?"

Mother laughed, flexing her wings. "If I tell you that, it will spoil the story. Now..." She nuzzled him, and licked him a few times, bathing him in her loving warmth. "If you can stay awake for the whole story, I can stay awake long enough to tell it."

"I can stay awake longer than you, Momma!" Korakos grinned and swatted her again. "I'm a good stay awaker!"

"Your father would be so proud to hear you, already trying to compete with me." She nosed him once more. "Now, close your eyes, and picture another world, covered in snow." Korakos did as she asked, and mother lay her head against him. Her voice rolled through his body in soothing waves as she began her story.

"Everything was white..."

Long before the story reached its heartwarming conclusion, Korakos was fast asleep.

*****

Deep in the night, Korakos awoke. He was uncertain, at first, unable to remember where he was, or how he'd gotten there. He'd been dreaming, images of a great, resplendent green dragon. In the dream he was...listening to a story. His father's story. He lifted his head, staring out into the night. For nighttime, it was surprisingly bright out. Silvery moonlight glimmered on the water beyond the stones. Stars sparkled in the sky. He gasped, shocked by the lack of clouds churning above the swamp.

Only...they weren't in the swamp anymore.

As the pieces fell back into place in the hatchling's head, he glanced at his mother, curled around him. She was still fast asleep. That was good, Korakos knew she needed her sleep. Now that they could eat till they were full every day, drink all the clean water they wanted, surely she'd get better again. Surely she'd be happy again. He liked it when mother was happy.

A strange sound drew his attention. It sounded like...mother's wing beats. Only, different somehow. Bigger than any bird. Bigger even than mother, maybe. He sucked in a breath. What if it was the gear fins, coming to eat him? His belly twisted up, and his little claws unsheathed. Should he wake mother? She could outfly them, he was sure. But momma needed her sleep. Maybe the gear fins would just keep flying.

Korakos wriggled free from his mother's foreleg. She murmured and pulled her limb up against her body, but did not wake. Quiet as he could, he crept towards the exit. The cave was small, smaller even than their home back in the swamp. He slunk forward till he had a better view of the starry sky, beyond the jutting rock ledge that sheltered them. He swiveled his ears, following the sound. It grew steadily louder, till something large soared overhead, a winged silhouette against the stars.

The hatchling pulled his head back in under the rock. He hoped he hadn't been seen, but the fact the wingbeats grew steadily louder told him otherwise. Korakos eased away from the opening to the outside world. Whatever it was, it circled back around. Just as the hatchling was about to wake his mother, something heavy landed in the marsh. Water splashed and sloshed, the sound steadily rising.

"Momma!" Korakos hissed at her, lashing his little tail. "Something's here!"

"What?" Mother blinked awake, her eyes little more than bleary, copper-bronze slits. "What is it?"

"I'll find out." Korakos crept back towards the entrance.

"Kor, get back here!"

Ignoring his mother, Korakos pushed his head as far outside the cave as he dared. He turned his head towards the sloshing sound, and realized it was not a gear fin splashing about, but a dragon. He'd never seen another dragon before, aside from his family. He was male, and larger than mother. In the moonlight, the dragon's green scales shone with an ethereal, silvery hue. Copper markings dappled his wings, and striped his limbs. His head was crowned not in horns, but broken stumps.

The hatchling's heart froze in his chest, and his breath caught in his throat.

He...he recognized that dragon.

Something about him...some instinctual familiarity...

A dragon he saw only in his dreams, glimpsed in memories...

The ghost of a smile...

The whisper of a laugh...

"Father..." The word fell from his tongue like a drop of rain, clean, pure, and wonderful. The whole world fell away from the hatchling. Father _was_here, where the clean water was. He was _really_here, just like Korakos knew he would be. "Father!"

Father's head jerked around at the sound of the hatchling's voice. His eyes lit up, glowing with silver-bronze fire in the moonlight. He took a step towards him, his whole body shaking. The older dragon's jaws worked, but no sound came out. Father lifted a forepaw, stretching it towards Korakos, as if trying to convince himself that what he saw was real.

"Momma!" Korakos squealed, sprinting back towards his mother. "Momma, Momma, Momma! It's Father! It's Father! Father, Father, Father!" He spun around just as fast, intent on jumping into the water and swimming to meet his father.

Instead, Mother snatched his tail and dragged him back, her voice a snarl. "It's not Father! He's gone, Kor! If there's a dragon out there, then we're in his territory! I'm in no condition to fight, we have to fly from here, and-"

"Nyra?" The dragon in the marsh found his voice.

At the sound of his voice, Mother gasped, deep and ragged. "No! No, it can't be..."

"It is, Momma!" Korakos nudged her foreleg with his muzzle. "It's father! Just like you tell me in the stories and like I remember him in my dreams and..." He trailed off. For all the times she spoke of him with a smile, for all the tears she tried to hide from him, the hatchling knew it was _Mothe_r who should go and greet father, first. "Go see him, Momma!"

"Nyra...Nyra, it's...it's me." Fear and pain hung heavy in the dragon's voice, the worry and anguish echoing around the little cave, a trembling sound. "It's Revaramek..."

Mother walked towards the water on limbs that shook so badly Korakos feared they'd give out and send her tumbling over the stones. When she saw the dragon standing in the water, she froze. For long moments, Mother did not speak, or move. She barely even breathed. If not for the tears that burst from her eyes and dripped down her green-scaled cheeks, Korakos would have feared for her. He clambered over a rock to stand up near her shoulder, butting her with his head.

"It's...it's Father!"

Just like his father, Mother seemed frozen in time, staring across the water. Staring at his father.

"I told you, Momma! He'd be here..."

All at once, it was as if time wound forward again. Mother sucked in wheezing breath, and cried out a single, anguished syllable. "Rev!?" She took a few steps into the water, struggling just to breathe. "You're...you're...alive?"

"Nyra! I...I've been...hoping...waiting..." Tears dribbled down Father's muzzle, glittering silver in the moonlight. "I'm sorry! I'm...I'm so sorry!"

"You're alive!" Mother squealed, a sound as filled with agony as it was with joy. Whatever forces held his mother back, shattered in an instant as she charged through the shallow water. Father's eye widened as she streaked towards him. "REV!"

Mother launched herself off her feet, slamming into Korakos' father so hard she lifted the bigger dragon clean off his feet. Together they tumbled through the water, splashing and throwing up waves. When at last they came to a stop, Mother clung to father as though she was drawing in the marsh, and only he could keep her float. By then, she was crying harder than Korakos had ever seen in all his life. She buried her head against his father's scales as he wrapped his wings around her, water running down them. Mother sobbed and sobbed, and soon, Father sobbed with her.

"Nyra! I'm sorry! I'm so, so sorry! I had too! I had...too, or-"

"Shut up!" Mother shook her head against him, squeezing him against her body. "I don't care, I don't...care! You're...you're alive! You're alive! I thought...I thought it...took you! I thought it took you from me, and...it broke me, Rev, it finally broke me, and, I couldn't...I couldn't let it take him from me, too, and...you're alive?" As if struck by a sudden realization, she jerked her head up away from Father's body, swiveling it towards the hatchling. "Korakos!" His name came out as a ragged, twisted sound, barely intelligible. "Your father! He's alive!"

The little dragon could not stop himself from crying, either. He wasn't even sure why. They should be happy, not sad. But they both cried so hard. He should be excited, not crying, and yet he shed his tears at the water's edge. He sniffled, nodding. "I know, Momma! I told you!" He whimpered, but found himself smiling just the same. "I told you! I knew where to go! Where the clean water was...where father was. I told you he'd be here..."

Slowly, Mother's face went slack. Her jaw hung open, and for a moment all she could do was gape at her son. "But...but that's..."

"He told the stories..." Father hugged her head against his chest, licking her face, her ears. "The stories...they guided you home...It was him, all along..."

"Now...I know you're real..." Mother squeaked out a laugh between her sobs, nuzzling Father's throat. "Because you're babbling nonsense."

Father laughed at that, squeezing mother tighter. "Gods, I've missed you two." He lifted his head again, staring over her, across the water to the hatchling. "He's...he's so big..."

Mother took a shaking breath, and slowly pulled herself away from his Father. She opened a trembling wing, and gestured with it at the hatchling. Water dripped from her wing tips. "Go to him, Rev. Go to him."

His father needed no further encouragement, and neither did Korakos. As soon as the older dragon started through the water, towards the shore, Korakos took a flying leap into the marsh. He plunged under the surface, popped back up, and paddled his way towards his father, bobbling about.

"Look Father, I can swim!"

Father started with a laugh, and his laughter broke into a fresh sob. "Yes...you can!"

The moment Father reached him, he scooped Korakos up in both forelegs. He hugged the hatchling tight against his chest plates and flopped onto his haunches, crying. Korakos tried to hug him back, but could fit neither forelegs nor wings around the bigger dragon. He settled for nuzzling and licking his father's scales. Something in his scent awoke buried memories, a hundred wonderful moments with his father, all frozen in time, glimpsed and gone again, and soon, the little hatchling was crying into his father's chest, happy just to be with him again.

"Welcome home, Korakos." Father curled his head down to lick his son, warm tongue bathing him in comfort and joy. Mother eased up alongside Father, and he cradled her under his wing. For the first time, in a very long time, Korakos saw nothing but joy on his mother's face. "Welcome home."

***** Thus ends Book 3 of Revaramek the Resplendent. Thank you so much for reading! Not only for reading these latest updates, but for sticking with this very long, very strange, journey. Rest assured, there's an entire novel left to come...as Revaramek has one great adventure left...

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