Dungeons are a law unto themselves. Never assume that the rules of nature you are familiar with will remain true.


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    Before they could talk to the grand-patriarch of the Mercurios, they first had to traverse the entire dungeon and reach its core. Which meant climbing stairs. A lot of very large stairs.


    The panels of pictures went on and on and on as they advanced up the hall. Ryenzo''s brood was only one of the family lines being followed here. Dozens of dragons, born, fought, bred, died. Similar scenes, different scenes. Always the mountain in the background.


    Several of them died to the sea, but always with the mountain still within sight.


    Five hours later they were still in the first room. It wound back and forth in grand sweeping curves, perpetually climbing upward, as the tales of dragons upon the walls grew more distant and ancient.


    By now they were several generations back, with Ryenzo''s many-great ancestors and their feats which looked startlingly similar to those of their modern descendents.


    The backward march of progression within the human towns in the old friezes was fascinating to observe. Jair often stopped to look at one more closely, those that weren’t fully focused on dragon lairs but depicted the outer world.


    The world hadn''t always been broken into tiny continents. At one point, Almas had been a single united continent rather than the divided engaldria it had become. Around the time that the divisions happened, a huge amount of technology and magic was lost. Global trade became nonexistent, and each culture had to rapidly adapt to the loss of information and resources they''d been relying on.


    But here, history was preserved perfectly. The story of the Draconis Mercurios continued back unbroken.


    There were pictures of them flying between landmasses, with water beneath them in a way that made Jair''s instincts twinge. Pictures of them hauling strangely smooth seascourge out of the depths, ones with fins instead of tentacles and only two eyes. There was even a depiction of one dragon flying to the moon.


    He couldn''t help but wonder how many of the similarities between native Neptian creatures and those on the moons had been facilitated by dragons in their long, long history.


    This wasn''t just a few generations ago. This was a visual history predating human civilization. He saw the first humans come to the dragon mountain where they worshipped at the patriarch''s feet, and he gifted them fire and magic. He watched in reverse the growth of the oases from simple geographical features to the thriving base of industry they''d become today. The regression from Veor''s sprawling walled cities to simple encampments just far enough away from the oases to be safe to sleep in.


    The friezes weren''t in perfect order, but ran in sets. The ones about a given generation were generally within the same area, but only some were in full chronological order. Sometimes it would show a dragon’s birth and death together and then followed by its feats, or start with an adult dragon already doing things and only show their birth later.


    Despite the alien logic, Jair found himself drawn into the narrative. He moved steadily through the hall, not lingering overlong on any one image, but as he moved back and forth from side to side to absorb the full story of countless generations of dragons, he found his sympathy for Ryenzo''s family growing.


    Most dragon rulers weren''t depicted nearly so coldly. In every one of her images she was shown either angry, sad, or emotionless. Her father was shown in celebration, in play, in destruction, in fear. His father, and his mother, and hers back and back, most showed a fully expected range of emotion.


    Ryenzo was not the norm.


    Which made sense. Dragons and humans had been sharing the continent since before they built cities. If all dragons were as keen on destroying humanity as Ryenzo apparently was, there would be no remnant of non-draconic life in Veor.


    Even more interesting, though, were the panels from the separation of the world. Before the war with the seascourge that showed dragons dying and retreating inland, when they still flew over water without concern, the landmass that Almas had once been before it split into its many continents began to break apart.


    Jair wasn''t sure what to think of this development. He paused on those images, walked back toward the entrance to see the later progressions, then forward again. He could come to only one conclusion.


    "The seascourge prioritized breaking up the land before claiming the skies."


    "They do not own the skies. They only forbid them. One day they will overstep and we will take back what is ours." Skyclaw spoke with such calm conviction that Jair had to raise an eyebrow at her. "What? It''s obvious." She wrapped her tail around his waist and tugged him back to a particular image. "See?"


    It was one of the earliest confrontations between dragon and sea, and ended with both parties limping away. The seascourge missed three of its eyes and half its tentacles, while the dragon was scarred across the chest and missing half his tail and one entire rear leg. His wings were ragged and hung weakly at his sides.


    "What about it? They''ve been aggressive for generations, taking more and more."


    “And we will never give in to it.” Skyclaw puffed out her chest and imitated the pose of the retreating dragon, tense shoulders and proud neck despite the trailing wings and limping stride. “We will reclaim the seas.”


    “When?” Jair pointed further inward to the image of a dragon soaring over the continent pre-separation, the volcano cozily in the middle. The Almas here depicted was easily half again its current size, even if all the current continental channels were filled in. “You’re going to run out of land.”


    “We will not.” A new voice echoed, deep and vibrating like a thousand drums in unison.


    Jair and Skyclaw both froze.


    The voice continued, reverberating from all around. “The Enemy knows better than to encroach on what is mine. Though the rest of the world may drown, I will remain. My children will always have sanctuary here.”


    “Grand-Patriarch Mercurios?” Skyclaw asked, looking around. “Is that you?”


    “It is. I welcome you, daughter. Come, sit with me.”


    Two of the panels on the wall slid away from each other, opening into a golden haze over a pit into darkness. The edges around the pit were broad enough for dragons to walk without fear of falling, but sloped with obvious intent for funneling downward.


    Shapes moved in the dimness, stately elven or beastkin silhouettes that shifted to the sides and disappeared into dark openings as Skyclaw moved forward.


    She edged up to the side of the pit, then sneezed as she inhaled the sparkles of gold. “Down there?”


    “Yes. Come. Let me see you properly.”


    Skyclaw paused and lowered one wing for Jair to climb up onto her back, then hopped into the shaft and glided down. At first she drifted slow, then started to dive, then pumped her wings to throw them down at increasing pace.


    They descended for minutes, and only as the passage curved and narrowed did the voice of Mercurios speak again. "Slow your descent, daughter, the landing is close."


    Skyclaw flared her wings to slow them down, then tucked her wings in and came to a landing on a shelf of gold that glittered like diamond. Perhaps it actually was diamond, over a layer of gold. The clink of claw against crystal echoed as Jair and Skyclaw advanced.


    The Grand-Patriarch of Draconis Mercurios lay sprawled on a pile of sparkling gems of impossible size and flawless clarity. He looked barely twice the size of Skyclaw, more like a dragon in his early young adulthood than an ancient.


    But as he opened his eyes and raised his head, Jair saw the depths of this creature''s soul staring back at him. Even without his soulspell active, Mercurios'' power resonated through the room, absolute and undeniable.


    Jair felt light and unsteady, like an autumn leaf staring at a hurricane.


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    He''d faced dragons—fought and killed dragons. He''d faced dungeons and survived more or less intact.


    Mercurios was far, far more than the sum of his parts. Despite his small size as far as dragons went, the sheer power of his presence hit Jair like a deluge.


    The ancient dragon rose to his feet and took a step.


    Instinct screamed at Jair to run. He felt the same as when he was about to face down an army, body and magic amped up to instant readiness.


    If he’d been anyone else, he’d be gone already. But this was someone new, someone he’d never even heard of, let alone met before. How could he walk away from this kind of discovery? It didn’t matter how dangerous it may be. If he left now, he’d be haunted by the potential forever.


    He stayed unmoving.


    Mercurios paced down to them, completely ignoring Jair’s presence as he walked around Skyclaw. Skyclaw stood proudly, but her eyes were concerned as she followed her grand-patriarch’s progress.


    “You are beautiful, daughter, but something is wrong. What have you done to yourself?”


    Mercurios leaned forward and traced one claw over the intricate carvings of the Unsevered Pact. They would disappear once she shed her scales next, the power imprinted into her very being rather than her body—though now he thought about it, Jair wasn’t sure if dragons still shed after being eaten by Maelstrom.


    Skyclaw looked down at herself sheepishly. “I don’t know. It stopped the blood-venom curse from killing me though.”


    “May I look?”


    Skyclaw nodded, then squeaked in shock as she immediately floated up into the air, body stiff except for her neck and rapid heartbeat pushing her chest. Her wings were drawn up and fully open, providing full access to her marked body.


    Mercurios sat back and peered at her with intense focus, one claw twitching ever so slightly as he rotated her gradually this way and that to examine the pattern Jair had carved into her.


    The grand-patriarch’s expression grew more and more unhappy, the atmosphere in the room growing heavier by the moment. He started to move the younger dragon more abruptly, peered closer, scanning one section then another.


    “Grand-Patriarch Mercurios?”


    He ignored her as though he hadn’t even heard, fully absorbed in his perusal.


    Skyclaw squirmed uneasily while she hovered upside down, and Jair decided they’d gone far enough. With a thought, Maelstrom flickered into his hand and he dismissed Skyclaw back into their soul.


    Mercurios snapped out of his focus with an angry snarl. “Who are you to dare lay a finger on my grandaughter?”


    “Jair Welburne, Unsevered Pact brother to Skyclaw and her clutch.”


    “Unsevered? So that is it.” Grand-Patriarch Mercurios took a step forward. The room shook with his ire. “A pact of absolute submission. Promises of loyalty without restraints. I do not permit this. Return her immediately.”


    “No. You were hurting her, and unless you’re going to apologize, I won’t be returning her to you. I’ve had enough of watching people hurt their children, and Skyclaw is under my protection which makes it very much my problem. I don’t care what your relation is, no one hurts my friends in front of me.”


    Mercurios stalked closer, and Jair’s body screamed that he should be anywhere but here. Yet his fingers couldn’t quite press down, held in place. “Release her from your service or be destroyed.”


    “You can’t kill me without hurting her, and her whole clutch with me.” Force pressed in around Jair, body and soul held in place with a grip beyond anything he’d ever experienced before, but he maintained defiant eye contact with the irate dragon. He could only hope the mad patriarch had that much family feeling. If he truly cared nothing for his relatives, there was nothing Jair could say to hold him back.


    “Bring her back.” The threat in the air grew stronger, sharper.


    Jair had no intention of surrendering Skyclaw and her clutch to their patriarch, and the longer this went on the more likely Mercurios was to do something drastic. The chance of catching him unprepared was minimal, but better than simply waiting around for the inevitable.


    “She chose this. Chose to save herself and her whole family from destruction. You don’t get to override that decision.” Jair couldn’t move his body, but he silently activated Bladewalk. Maelstrom slid slowly from his hand.


    “And now they are saved. I do not permit you to continue this desecration.”


    “The Unsevered Pact is a simple contractual—” Jair hurled Maelstrom forward with all his mental strength. Forcing Bladewalk to move at full speed from a standing stop was incredibly difficult; it was intended to gradually accelerate so its rider could adapt, but that didn’t make for a very effective attack.


    The sword sliced into Mercurios’ side. The dragon looked down at it for one moment, as Jair activated Darkflame.


    It felt like throwing his soul against an unmovable wall.


    And then the wall hit back.


    Something slammed into Jair across every layer in an instant. Mercurios’ fury shredded his manabody, tore it free of his physical body and scattered it through the air. In the same instant, it dragged Jair’s physical body forward, leaving his soul behind, and crushed it against the floor, killing him instantly.


    It was so sudden he didn’t have a chance to react. Maelstrom clattered dully to the crystalline floor as Jair’s perception dimmed to shades of grey.


    In his fading soulsight, Mercurios shone out as an unspeakably white glow against the dull inorganic surroundings. Most people wouldn’t even be able to perceive that much as a disembodied soul, but he’d died more times than most and developed quite a few skills that couldn’t be obtained any ordinary way.


    “Now, I will take back what is mine.” Pressure surrounded his naked soul, pressed down on him and yanked.


    His soul, scarred and tested again and again over hundreds of lifetimes, was strong enough to keep him together much longer than the normal dissipation for things that had been killed. Strong enough to win a soul war against any human, most vampires, and even a few elves.


    Jair’s hard-won strength was nothing to this force.


    Mercurios unwound Jair’s soul and spread it out across the sky as easily as a housewife shaking out a tablecloth.


    Maelstrom? Temporal Reversion? Help?


    His silent pleas flickered through his soul in a pulse of silver, gold, and green.


    “Enough of that. Be still.”


    The force holding him twitched the slightest bit and disruptive tremors shook him apart.


    Every last shred of coherent thought fled Jair’s desperately struggling soul. Golden light flooded out across the twisted network of stars and lines, coils and patterns, shapes and memories. Everything that formed the essence of who Jair was took up the glow, but it was diffuse and soft, like an unformed manabody leaking out in clouds of glittering fog, and faded away without activating.


    All he could do was perceive.


    Mercurios effortlessly vivisected centuries of growth, strength, and improvement, separating all that he was and ever had been as effortlessly as drawing a finger through sand.


    “Hmmm. I’m surprised you’re even alive. No wonder you wanted to bind my children. The power you steal from them is enough to live on another few days.”


    Jair’s soul was a tattered thing, pieces all but disconnected from the rest, torn gaps reminiscent of Maelstrom’s initial soulmap back when it was only at 10% integrity… but where Maelstrom was bounded and comprehensible, incredibly complex but limited in form, Jair’s soul was like staring at a night sky torn apart by a cosmic painter spilling fragments of life across everything.


    He’d never seen it like this before. Even his most invasive soul surgeries had treated the whole thing as a single object, like a heart or a statue. He could carve pieces off, push it into different shapes, but doing too much would destroy its integrity.


    Spreading it out like this… it felt like epiphany. Wordless, ephemeral. He could barely comprehend the experience even as he was within it.


    It was also the most terrifyingly helpless he’d ever been.


    Mercurios prodded and clawed at his soul, casually tearing new pieces free and tossing them away, leaving Jair with a wordless diminishment. Distant, barely perceptible. Red light rippled across various sections as Mercurios worked, but even that Jair could only distantly perceive. The ancient dragon had somehow separated his soul and his self, things that were normally synonymous torn apart.


    Only once he’d been thoroughly examined did the dragon speak again.


    “Hmph. You weren’t lying. Your pact is flawless. Looks like I’ll have to keep you alive. But no one desecrates my family without recompense.”


    Jair’s soul was abruptly shoved back together into a crumpled ball vaguely approximating its normal shape.


    Before he could even wonder about the fact that his old body had been destroyed, or consider that this was a dungeon he was within, not merely a dragon lair, Mercurios waved a claw and created a small newt.


    “This should suffice,” the old dragon said, malicious glee in his voice. “If you survive, I’ll consider letting my daughter keep you as a pet. Or you can release her to me at any time, and I’ll let you go.”


    Mercurios held out Jair’s faltering soul, still disembodied and technically-dead as it struggled to hold itself together, but didn’t drop it into its new intended vessel. He watched a moment as the edges of it gradually broke apart and faded away, and if not for the fact that Jair held seven of his descendents he probably would have continued to watch until final dissipation. With a look of irritation, the dragon flicked him down before he could dissolve entirely.


    “I may not be able to destroy you, but defy me again, and you’ll find I have been merciful until now. This is my domain and you will never leave until you give back what is mine. How long it takes and how much you suffer in the process…” the dragon leaned down until his huge eye was all Jair’s little newt eyes could see. “That depends on how stubborn you insist on being. As much as I want my children back, they are safe enough where they are. I hope you last a good while. It’s so much more fun with the ones who think they’re strong.”


    Jair understood the words, the intention behind them, but his soul and self were so disoriented still that he could barely even process the sensations his new body was giving him. If the dragon expected any sort of response from him, he’d be waiting a while.


    Mercurios chuckled, a sinister echo that rebounded from the walls and chorused from the ceiling. “I look forward to seeing that soulspell of yours in action. I don’t think you’ll last a day without it.” He leaned back on his pile of treasure and flicked one claw.


    A tall elven man with feathered wings and extra arms walked forward and picked up the newt that was now Jair. His hands were warm, comforting after the chill of the crystal. Jair’s body instinctively curled up in the warmest spot, while his mind and soul struggled to return to anything resembling coherence.


    Even as the man carried Jair away from Mercurios’ throne room and out into the dark tunnels of the dungeon, the dragon grand-patriarch’s voice still echoed out after them.


    “I do wonder… how many tries will it take before you’re ready to accept the truth?”


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