《A Dragon's Wish for Mortality》


 Chapter 1: The Coming of Fear

    ¡°Fear, it holds us to this mountain. It binds us to our stagnant god. It suffocates us in ignorance. But we mustn¡¯t be afraid. We must rise and challenge these fears. Don¡¯t be afraid of change, my friend. Don¡¯t be afraid to live.¡± ~Prince Orvit


    In the wastelands of Mur lie the mountain of god, Dathagruin and twenty others raised by mortal men. Not men like us but arkybes, gray-skinned men with inky black eyes. The youngest of these mountains is Vaskmarr raised by Soltimork first son of Orkastal in the year 1984 as of the Kye Marah Calendar. It is a popular mountain, most known for being the tallest mortal mountain. Only God¡¯s mountain Dathagruin stands taller. This is a title of great respect among the arkybes. For before Mount Vaskmarr, only the first mountain, Mount Fyreing, had held the title. However, being the tallest is not all Vaskmarr is known for. There are many curiosity atop the mountain, which draw arkybes both to and away.


    ¡°It is a strange place, Vaskmarr,¡± is an opinion often heard among the inns and taverns of Mur. Rumors like King Soltimork collects strange beast and he has them battle one another in an arena, are popular topics of discussion. Others would talk of the king¡¯s company, ¡°He befriended the gora tribes, I heard. He¡¯s building an army, they say. He even made a grimmora chieftain his general,¡±


    These rumors refer to intelligent war-loving race, who live in the wastelands of Mur. Fierce creatures are the gora, most noted for their long arms, which reach down to their ankles and their faces, which resemble those of hairless hyenas. Fiercer still, the grimmora are the strongest and largest of the gora tribes. To the peace loving mountain dwelling arkybes, they are a race not to be trifled with. So to surprise, the response to such rumors are always, ¡°Only a fool would trust a grimmora.¡±


    Others would talk of a large lizard man he houses. They would say, ¡°There¡¯s a banished Drikyn living in Vaskmarr Palace, one with iron horns and the feathers of a dragon priest. They say it¡¯s the one who killed the last dragon, Diadric. Stab her through the heart, I heard.¡±


    Such gossip would always be challenged by the greatest rumor of Vaskmarr. More often than not, from the mouth of a younger arkybian would come, ¡°He didn¡¯t kill the dragon. Diadric lives in Vaskmarr. She has taken mortal form.¡±


    ¡°Ridicules,¡± is often the response.


    ¡°No it¡¯s true, I¡¯ve seen her.¡± Some of the young would say, but most said, ¡°many have seen her.¡±


    They would go on to describe a pale young woman similar to an arkybe, but different. ¡°She has horns, smooth straight one. And her eyes resemble beautiful emeralds, just like in the stories of Diadric.¡±


    Some even said, ¡°if you¡¯re lucky and get close enough, you¡¯d see scales on her cheeks and forehead; not rough scales like those of a Drikyn, but soft like a snake¡¯s.¡±


    More gossipers would speak of how a dragon can be seen flying around Vaskmarr, covered in feathers made of white fire. Often the old folk would scoff at this.


    ¡°Dragons don¡¯t have feathers or scales,¡± they¡¯d say, ¡°dragons are made of stone.¡±


    Other would chime in saying, ¡°The woman is just a conjurer fooling people into believing Soltimork has a dragon.¡±


    ¡°Why do that,¡± someone would inevitably ask. To which, the response is always fast and always the same, ¡°To make the people think it¡¯s safe.¡±


    This would lead to an old argument, one far older than Vaskmarr; an argument as old as the first mountain Fyreing. It would start, ¡°fool raised his mountain on the path, and we all know what that means. They¡¯ll have to deal with the Kye Marah at the end of peace.¡±


    ¡°When the millennium ends, the challenge will be met.¡±


    ¡°When that day comes, they will pay for their arrogance.¡±


    ¡°But Orvit built his mountain on the Path.¡± Some would declare.


    ¡°Orvit was mad, right down to his name,¡± they would say, ¡°And King Soltimork is much the same.¡±


    ¡°No surprise there,¡± others would agree,¡±just look at his father, king Orkistal. Man names his mountain Slasker. It¡¯s such a mean and angry name, not proper for a mountain. It¡¯s not proper at all.¡±


    ¡°No wonder Mount Slasker is so unpopular,¡± more would finish. As of late, these rumors had grown in popularity, all due to a flyer. It read: Come one, Come all to the Vaskmarr New Year¡¯s Festival. The Great King Soltimork has prepared a banquet of which the races of Mur have never seen. Eat, drink and be merry atop Mount Vaskmarr. Watch as the gora tribes do battle from morning light to the releasing hour.


    It would not have been so great a topic, if not for one fact. This year was the last year of the millennium. Ever Arkybe of ever mountain, except Vaskmarr, was planning to spend the last hours of the last year in silent prayer. They would pray to the mountain god, Iuee, for his protection from the Kye Marah¡¯s wrath. The thought of celebrating the end of peace was taken in bad taste by arkybes all across Mur.


    ¡°He mocks Iuee, just as Orvit did,¡± they¡¯d say, ¡°And no good will come of it. Mark my words, his arrogance will have a price.¡±


    Despite it all, every inn in Mount Vaskmarr is filled to the brim the night before the eve of the new millennium. Curious young arkybes, from across the mountains, come to see the heretic¡¯s festival. And just as the flyer said, it begins at first light and would continue until the releasing of the dilok. The inhabitance wake to trumpets and bells. The markets are cleared and tables after tables are piled with delicious sweet pastries, juicy salted meats, and fruits from every mountain of Mur.


    Children watch gremgars wrestle in the streets. No larger than house cats, the gremgars are the smallest of the gora tribes. They are seen as amusing ugly little creatures by the arkybes. Besides the gremgars, the morning festivities are slow and uneventful. This is how the arkybes like it.


    The days of Mur are short, only about eleven hours long. Six hours belong to the sun and five hours to the night. On a normal day, the arkybes are quick to action, not wasting a moment. To them, a festival means a lazy day where they are to be entertained by others. They enjoy lounging in the early hours of daylight. It is not until midday; they are truly ready for anything active. At noon, the arena is opened. Arkybes quickly fill the stands. Gremgars wait on the audience. Some pass out cups, while others fill drinks. Most carry heaped plates of either: bread, meats, fruits, or cheeses. While the arkybes eat only two large meals a day, they snack almost religiously.


    On the west side of the arena, a large three-story building is erected in place of stands. This building is used for storing and preparing food and drink. Gremgars are seen entering and exiting it frequently. The king and guests relax on the second floor. A patio is carved into the structure. Stone columns support the floor above them. King Soltimork sits a large comfortable chair. His wife, Queen Aslog, lies in hers at his right side. Their three children sit in smaller wooden chairs beside their mother. To the king¡¯s left sits a one-eyed grimmora, a pale woman with horns, and a large elderly drikyn.


    King Soltimork stands from his seat and addresses the crowd, ¡°welcome to my arena. Today, we celebrate the beginning of a new millennium. Many accuse this festival of being in bad taste. They say I should spend that last of my days in fear and prayer. I say, if I am destined to die tomorrow, then I better celebrate today.¡±


    Applause rings out from the stands. The king laughs, ¡°It brings me great joy to see so many arkybes as enthusiastic towards life as myself. The gora share a similar enthusiasm as well. They believe one can only truly live if in the face of death. They are hunters and warriors alike. Nine great tribes and you will see them all today. For the first event, I give to you, the hobgargen.¡±


    Five thin lanky gora enter the arena from the north. Their skin is a dark brown, nearing black. They stand taller than the average arkybe and walk on all fours. A quiver filled with javelins is tied to each of their backs.


    ¡°As a show of speed, they face the dreaded loreteoc serpent,¡± King Soltimork announces. From the south entrance of the arena, a giant snake slithers in. Its body is coved in colored feather, which forms a repeating pattern of black, yellow, red, and blue rings. The drikyn seated to the king¡¯s left scoffs at the snake.


    ¡°You couldn¡¯t find one with all its feathers.¡± The drikyn asks. He points to his own headdress, which is made of similar feathers. Its repeating pattern has black, yellow, red, blue, purple, green, orange, and white. He then laughs, ¡°Really, where¡¯s the honor in killing a pup.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s hardly a pup,¡± the king replies, with a note of humor, ¡°besides; I need a much deeper arena than this if I ever caught an elder loreteoc, Kynthelig.¡±


    ¡°True enough, your majesty,¡± the drikyn agrees.


    The fight is short lived. Two of the hobgargen are swallowed whole, before the serpent''s life is brought to a close. One of the swallowed hobgargen carves its way out. It dies from the creature¡¯s internal toxins moments later. The arkybes sent to clean the arena are hesitant to touch either the dead hobgargen or the loreteoc. Fearing the loss of their skin, the arkybe workers decide to drive spikes into both bodies and pulling them off with ropes.


    The second festivity is fought between three reptilian sand hounds called cuibmurs and twelve gremgars. A sense of pity waves over the crowd, though it is mistakenly for the gremgars. The cuibmurs are quick to attack the small goras. The slowest of the gremgars are snatched up, but before the cuibmur kills it, the other gremgars just atop the hounds and begin digging deep into the creature flesh. The cuibmur drop their prey and try to pull off the little attackers. The gremgars burrow into the bodies of their prey, and soon each of the hounds falls dead. Blood soaked gremgars emerge from the bodies. Screeching howls emite from the little terrors. The arkybe are stunned by the brutality of the gremgars. The arena workers try to remove the dead ciubmurs, but the gremgars hiss at them. The small goras leave the arena drag the corpses with them.


    The third event is between three grimmora and a morcaisel, a stone-backed boar. The grimmora are broad-shouldered gora. Their legs are thick with muscles. Their skin is dark dirty blue with sandy white patches. Each carries six long spears on their backs and wields one in their hands. The grimmora begin with one attacking the boar face on; while, the other two race to either of beast¡¯s sides. The one, attacking the face, keeps slightly to boar¡¯s right. This is to avoid the inevitable charge. The other two throw spears into the morcaisel¡¯s back.


    The spears cannot pierce the large stone like calluses growing on the beast, but some find soft places between the growths. When the first two spears find a home deep in the morcaisel, it writhes in pain and charges forward. The boar''s tusk catches the grimmora distracting it. He thrust into the air. His gutted body falls limply to the ground. The morcaisel turns to the other two, its right tusk dripping with the blood of the slain grimmora.


    Again and again, the morcaisel charges the two grimmora. While one avoids being gutted, the other throws spears. Soon seven pierce the flesh of the beast. Its blue fur turns crimson as blood flows from open wounds. It breaths heavily, drained by the bleeding and constant charges.


    Keeping to the beast¡¯s right, one of the remaining grimmora stabs at the morcaisel¡¯s face. He growls loudly, showing his fangs and wrinkling his snout. Too weak to charge again, the morcaisel desperately swings its tusks at the attacker. The other grimmora silently sneaks to the boar¡¯s left. He creeps in close. Holding his spear low to the ground, he thrust up into the belly of the morcaisel. Blood pores over his hands and face as he pushes the spear deep into the beast.


    The morcaisel cries out in pain. As it stumbles forward, the other grimmora runs his spear through the creature¡¯s throat. A roaring applause echoes from the audience. The two grimmora hold their blood soaked weapons far above their heads and give a cackling howl of victory.


    With that, the midday events come to a close. Arkybes leave the arena to find a rare supper waiting in the courtyard. Roasted stone-backed boar, fried sand hound legs, and a verity of Loreteoc serpent soups are served before the people. The king and his guest eat their supper in the privacy of the king patio.


    ¡°The midday festivities were splendid, father,¡± Prince Riedulf complement.


    ¡°Yes, I had my concerns,¡± King Soltimork admits cutting a bite from a slab of cuibmur leg, ¡°I didn¡¯t know how the people would react to the games. I¡¯m grateful to see such enthusiasm from them.¡±


    ¡°So you¡¯ve said,¡± the drikyn Kynthelig indicates. He goes on to say, ¡°I don¡¯t see the pleasure in such killing.¡±


    ¡°Pleasure enough, when it was the loreteoc being gutted,¡± the one-eyed grimmora states stuffing chunks of morcaisel and red wine down his throat, ¡°and you carry such pride in a hat made from death.¡±


    ¡°My feathers are a symbol of protection, Drahg¡± Kynthelig argues, ¡°we drikyn kill only to protect ourselves. The loreteoc like to nest in our barrows and eat our young. My slaying of a loreteoc was far different than these games.¡±


    ¡°Aw, but there I must disagree,¡± King soltimork says, ¡°these games are to show the people the strength of our new allies. I want them to feel protected, now more than ever.¡±


    ¡°Oh If that¡¯s true, perhaps I should put on a show,¡± the pale woman speaks. A face of delight swims over Prince Reidulf, who says, ¡°that would be splendid, Diadric. You could fly and¡­¡±


    ¡°No,¡± the king interrupts, ¡°the people must learn to stop relying on the gods for aid. Today is a show of the strength of mortals, not gods.¡±


    ¡°So will I not be helping with the Kye Marah,¡± Diadric asks.


    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ that¡¯s different. It¡¯s¡­not about whether the gods actually aid us, but the expectation that they will. Do you understand?¡± King Soltimork explains before taking a drink.


    ¡°I suppose,¡± Diadric answers, ¡°though it feels you¡¯re trying to rob me of credit.¡±


    The king chokes on his wine as he stumbles over his words, ¡°of course not, the world will know what you¡¯ve done for us. The world must know, for the sake of Orvit. They just can¡¯t know yet. Mortals must be willing to fight this war without a goddess.¡±


    The youngest of Soltimork¡¯s children, Princess Abi, only two years old, walks over to Kenthelig with a plate of boar meat, ¡°would you like some? It¡¯s really good.¡±


    ¡°No thank you, little princess,¡± Kynthelig answers with hushed, gentle tone, ¡°my people don¡¯t eat meat.¡±


    She looks at his plate, which is filled with fruits. A sad looked of disappointment crosses the princess'' face. Her older brother of five, Prince Rosarr says, ¡°why not, meat is so tasty.¡±Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    ¡°It¡¯s not about it tasting good, my prince. My people get quite ill if we eat meat,¡± Kynthelig explains, ¡°similar to how the gora cannot eat fruit.¡±


    ¡°Yes, drikyn are like horses and gora are like the hounds,¡± Drahg adds. Though certain the grimmora meant it as an insult, Kynthelig simple smiles and says, ¡°indeed there are similarities.¡±


    The meal goes on until night falls, the crowd returns to the arena. Torches are set and light up the arena. The flickering firelight against the night gives the arena a mesmerizing atmosphere. Before the games begin, Queen Aslog sends her two youngest back to the palace. The two are reluctant to leave, and Princess Abi asks if Kynthelig would come with them. Happily, the drikyn agrees, and the three take their leave.


    They head down the king¡¯s path. It is an underground tunnel linking the arena and the palace. Kynthelig lights the company¡¯s way with a beautifully crafted copper torch. He smokes from his pipe while humming an ever-changing tune. Princess Abi rides comfortably on Kynthelig¡¯s shoulders hugging his neck. His feathered headdress protects the princess¡¯s fair skin from the drikyn¡¯s rough scales. Prince Rasarr walks beside the drikyn. Constantly, the boy peaks back at the arena, envious of the cheering crowd.


    ¡°No point in looking back, young prince.¡± Kynthelig murmurs between puffs. Prince Rasarr sneers at the drikyn, ¡°I should be down there; I am nearly a man. There are others younger than I who stayed.¡±


    ¡°You speak of Diadric,¡± Kynthelig asks, ¡°do you?¡±


    ¡°I do, I do speak of Diadric,¡± the prince declares ¡°she¡¯s younger than me and Abi.¡±


    To this Kynthelig gives a deep bellowing chuckle, ¡°Diadric is thousands of years older than you. She may have only had that form for one year, but it is not the body of a child. If I were to guess, I say her body is as mature as your older brothers¡¯.¡±


    ¡°Still, I should be down there.¡±


    ¡°Kyn,¡± Princess Abi interrupts, ¡°what¡¯s the Kye Marah?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a giant slug monster filled with dead things,¡± Prince Rasarr answers before Kynthelig can; but the drikyn is quick to correct, ¡°Not quite so, young prince. The Kye Marah is made of a black slime, much like tar but even thicker. It is filled with nothing but wields Dentae¡¯s power of creation. From it is born many short-lived horrors.¡±


    ¡°Short-lived,¡± Prince Rasarr entreats, to which Kynthelig illuminates, ¡°Yeas, very short lived. The creatures born from the Kye Marah seem to provide only an immediate service. It¡¯s as if the creature cannot plan for the future; its creations are made from fear and desperation. Often the beasts are born missing essential parts to live long lives.¡±


    ¡°What parts,¡± Prince Rasarr continues to push.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know, faces, stomachs, lungs, any number of things,¡± Kynthelig answers.


    ¡°Where does it come from,¡± Asks princess Abi.


    ¡°The east,¡± answers Prince Rasarr once again. To which, Kynthelig elaborates, ¡°True, but there is more to that question than just a direction. Tell me, Abi do you know the three children of Iuee.¡±


    ¡°I do,¡± answers Abi quite eagerly, ¡°there once were three dragons born of stone, the daughters of Iuee. The oldest was Bethicha, who cared the great forest upon her back. The second was Dentae, who crafted all the beasts, tribes, and races of Mur. The youngest and smallest was Diadric, who wielded the powers of destruction and lived eternal bound to Mount Dathagruin.¡±


    ¡°Very good, Abi,¡± applauds Kynthelig, ¡°Well this is the story of how Dentae died. As you said, Bethicha was the firstborn of the three sisters. She was also the first to pass. When she did, Dentae began to feel her age. She did not want to die and leave her creation. She also felt her work unfinished as so many more creations still stirred in her mind. She pleaded to Iuee to grant her eternal life, much the same as Diadric. Iuee would not grant her request.¡±


    ¡°Why,¡± both the children asked.


    ¡°Well, I can¡¯t say for sure; however, it is widely believed that Iuee would not allow Dentae both eternal life and the power of creation. Only God made wield both. It is said she left Mount Dathagruin that very day and headed far to the east.¡±


    ¡°Why did she leave,¡± asked Princess Abi.


    ¡°I don¡¯t know. Maybe she was upset or felt what she was about to do, may anger Iuee.¡±


    ¡°Because she was creating the Kye Marah,¡± Prince Rasarr insinuates.


    ¡°No,¡± Kynthelig sighs, ¡° No, no one believes she left intending to create what she did. The Kye Marah at its core is an unfinished creation. Most believe Dentae was trying to forge a successor. Something capable of creating a verity of life, as the Kye Marah can. Others think she was trying to create a new younger body and obtain her own form of immortality. But, what is agreed on by all is she died before it was finished. What happened next, only Iuee could say.¡±


    ¡°Most choose to believe that when Dentae died a part of her soul, those of fear and regret, bond themselves to the unfinished creature. Diadric herself believes this is what happened. You see, of Diadric¡¯s many powers, one is called the god tongue. It is the power to speak without words, but with thoughts and feelings. It is the language of absolute truth. And Diadric swears when she faced the Kye Marah all those years ago she could feel fragments of Dentae within it.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t mean she didn¡¯t want to create the Kye Marah. Nor does it mean it wasn¡¯t created out of revenge. All it means is that whatever Dentae was trying to do she failed.¡±


    ¡°Enough, as far as Diadric is concerned, the Kye Marah is just the unfortunate outcome of a tragic situation. She does not feel malice in that creature just fear and regret. Besides, Dentae loved us, all of us. Even if she hated Iuee in the last of her days, she would not threaten the lives of her creations.¡±


    ¡°But every thousand years, it returns and attacks the temple of Iuee. Father says it¡¯s drawn back to Mount Dathagruin. If not for revenge, then why?¡±


    ¡°Why, you ask. It is carried thereby Dentae¡¯s pleas for eternal life; a simple memory trapped within the Kye Marah. You, arkybes, have made an enemy out of a poor misfortunate animal. Diadric kills it out of pity.¡±


    ¡°That not true,¡± Prince Rasarr states, ¡°she told me she hates the Kye Marah more than anything. She enjoys seeing it die.¡±


    ¡°Oh, you foolish boy, she only hates it, because it reminds her how Dentae suffered alone in the wastelands. Its existence is a dreaded reminder of how her sister will never be at peace.¡± Kynthelig corrects. A long silence fills the air. The cheering from the arena has vanished. Not another word is spoken until the group reaches the palace. In the bedroom of the prince and princess, the two lie in their beds. As Kynthelig is leaving, Princess Abi asks, ¡°why a thousand years.¡±


    Kynthelig turns back, ¡°Ah, now that is an interesting story.¡±


    The princess sits up in her bed, ¡°tell us.¡±


    Kynthelig thinks for a moment. He has no desire to return to the game so suddenly. And the children don¡¯t seem all that tired. And it is one of Kynthelig¡¯s favorite tales. With a smile, he says, ¡°Well, just as the arkybe have their Orvit, we drikyn have ower Maglia Lasiad.¡±


    ¡°Who,¡± the children ask. Kynthelig takes a seat against the wall of the room between the children¡¯s beds. Then with a deep puff of his pipe he begins, ¡°She was the first mortal to make a deal with Iuee. You see, when the Kye Marah first came it appeared endless and covered much of Dathagruin. Even Diadric could not destroy it all. Whatever gave it such regenerative power remains a mystery. In the midst of this peril was a young drikyn named Maglia Lasiad. While the other drikyn ran and hid, she traveled to Iuee shrine. She should have died to try to reach the temple, but through some miracle, she didn¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Maybe Iuee protected her.¡± Prince Abi suggests. Kynthelig gives another hearty laugh. Stuffing some new weeds into his pipe, he chuckles, ¡°Maybe he did, indeed.¡±


    ¡°So what happened then,¡± asks Prince Rasarr quite impatiently.


    ¡°I¡¯m getting to that.¡± Kynthelig answers as he lights his newly-filled pipe. After a few good puffs, he continues, ¡°When she got there, she offered him a jewel. Not a sparkly or well-cut jewel, like the drikyn jewels of today, but a raw uncut emerald with pieces of dirt and stone still clinging to it. She asked Iuee ¡®Oh, my fair god, will you not save us from this peril? Please, take this stone. It is so beautiful and rare. It is the greatest of my treasures and all I have to offer.¡¯ Iuee looked at the emerald and said, ¡®for such a treasure, I will give you one year, but only one year. I will seal the Kye Marah far away, back from which it came. For one year, and only one year, I will do this. And, if you should come across a treasure even more beautiful and rare, I would take it and give to you another year.¡¯ And just like that, the Kye Marah stop regeneration. Three days and three nights late, Diadric had destroyed all that remained of the Kye Marah.¡±


    ¡°Maglia Lasiad told the drikyn what Iuee had promised and every drikyn, except the den mothers and hunters, began to search Mount Dathagruin for beautiful stones. They found, not one, but many in that first year. But they did not give Iuee the most beautiful of the new stone, only one more beautiful than the last. You see, the drikyn were as crafty then as they are today. They save the more precious stones for the years to come.¡±


    ¡°Iuee took the jewel and gave another year of peace. Over the next year, the drikyn continued to gather even more precious stones. But as time moved forward, the drikyn found less and less on the surface of Dathagruin. They had many years worth of stones; though, they knew more would always be needed. Some thought they should leave Dathagruin and others thought more stone would appear if they waited.¡±


    ¡°Is that when the Drikyn started mining,¡± asks the prince.


    ¡°Yes, yes, I¡¯m getting to that. Maglia decided to ask Iuee for guidance. She offered him all the stone less precious than the one he had, but he refused her. Defeated but not lost, Maglia then went to Diadric. Back then the drikyn did not worship Diadric as we do today. She was seen as the powerful guardian of Iuee. Most drikyn lived in fear of her and Maglia was no exception. She approached Diadric slowly, crawling before the great eternal dragon. Maglia offered the same stone and asked, ¡®Oh, great guardian of Iuee, wielder of destruction, I plea for your wisdom. We seek colored stones like these, but know not where to find them.¡¯ Diadric did not care for the stone but did not reject the gift. She said to Maglia, ¡®If you¡¯re looking for colorful rocks, there are countless prettier ones than these buried within the mountain.¡¯ This filled Maglia with such glee; though, she could not imagine how to reach such buried stones. She asked Diadric what they should do; to which, Diadric bit off the tip of one of her claws and offered it to Maglia. She said, ¡®This is harder than any stone. It should help you get started.¡¯ And it did. Using the tip of Diadric¡¯s claw, which came to be known as Barbenaid, the drikyn began to mine the mount Dathagruin.¡±


    ¡°Over the next several years, the drikyn mined into the mountain. We began to worship Diadric and in turn learned much of fire. Soon, with Diadric¡¯s aid, we began to forge our own tools to better dig into the hard black stone of Dathagruin. It changed much of drikyn life. A family¡¯s status became based on the size of the cave they dug and the wealth of its stones. Because of this, the drikyn had large families with generation all living in the same cave. The children dug their tunnels branching off their parents¡¯ tunnels which branched off their parents¡¯ tunnels. We began to wear these metal-plated robes. You see, it¡¯s a map of the metals we found in our tunnels.¡± Kynthelig says running a finger over the different colored plates on his chainmail robes. He then continues, ¡°But the most prominent change was the birth of the Dragon Priests. Besides being the voice and ears of the tribes, the dragon priests were entrusted with valuing the gems found in Dathagruin. It was a ruthless profession, as the misvaluing of even a single stone could cost the drikyn years or decades of peace. It took nearly a lifetime just to become a Dragon Priest. I, myself, only earned my horns at the ripe age of one hundred and six. Of course, I had spent my youth as a hunter, and I might say a great hunter I was.¡± Kynthelig states.


    ¡°Kynthelig, what about the Kye Marah,¡± the prince asks.


    ¡°Yes, well I was getting to that,¡± Kynthelig replies, ¡°Now, where was I, oh yes, for a time, the drikyn felt very safe. With all they had learned and all the jewels they had gathered, the drikyn believed they would never again see the Kye Marah. But as the years turned to decades, and decades turned to centuries, it grew ever more difficult to find stones, rarer than the last. Giving all the stones deemed unworthy to Diadric, became a tradition for better or worse. The drikyn themselves kept only one jewel for themselves. Each was allowed an emerald, which traditionally was given to one true love.¡±


    ¡°The Kye Marah,¡± Prince Rasarr pleads.


    ¡°Yes, yes, well, nearly a thousand years of mining for precious stone past before the drikyn could not find one rarer. On that day, the Dragon Priest Arnem Dith offered one last stone. It was an enormous opal, bigger than a newborn arkybe, and perfectly round. Arnem begged this be enough to free the drikyn of the Kye Marah. ¡®No,¡¯ was Iuee¡¯s answer. The Kye Marah would rise come the next year; however, Iuee was merciful for the Kye Marah coming would not last forever. ¡®Hear me now,¡¯ he said onto Arnem, ¡®the first year of every millennium will belong to the Kye Marah. The other nine hundred and ninety-nine, it will slumber.¡¯ The next year, the dilocs flew without lights, and the Kye Marah did indeed come. The drikyn hid in their holes and the arkybes in their trees, while Diadric burned the creature to ash. For three days and three nights, she rained a great inferno upon the monster. And as Iuee promised, it did not appear again until the end of the first year of the new millennium, in which Diadric dispensed of the creature in much the same fashion. There now you know.¡±


    ¡°Are you afraid of the Kye Marah, Kyn?¡±


    ¡°No. The Kye Marah is a slow creature. It moves like a slug over the wastelands. Even if Diadric and your father should fail, there is plenty of time to escape. And with only four of the twenty mountains in the Kye Marah¡¯s path there are plenty of places to flee to.¡±


    ¡°Father says true Arkybians never run from a battle. They face enemies head-on.¡±


    ¡°Pride, young prince, is a vile thing to die for.¡± Kynthelig states before leaving the room.


    Kynthelig takes his time returning to the arena. He enjoys the peace of the night and smokes heavily, humming his rhythmless tune. It nears midnight when Kynthelig takes to his seat next to Diadric. Unfortunately, he arrives in the middle of the last event. It is a battle between ten of the gora night tribe nersaw and a large armored beast called briserr. The nersaw are the only gora to have hair. Thick dirty gray mangles droop from their heads down to their feet. Only slightly larger than the gremgars, the nersaw resemble small dead bushes. The briserr resembles a giant tortoise, with a long clubbed tail and a sharp black beak for a mouth. Three of nersaw looked dead to Kynthelig. The other seven kept their distance from the beast. They stayed far in front of it. Briserr are not fast moving creatures, but their tails protect both their sides and their back. A single swing from it kills most anything.


    ¡°I think they¡¯re outmatched,¡± says Kynthelig. King Soltimork replies, ¡°Patients, I¡¯ve seen them win this fight before.¡±


    Three nersaw rush the briserr. The beast slowly turns to its side. As it does, the other four sprint around the arena. When the beast finally swings at the first three, the other four a safe to move in. They dash toward the tail. Too slow, two of three nersaw are struck by the tail. As the tail twists back, it takes only one of the party of four. The other three are close enough to the briserr¡¯s body not to be struck. The pull out hidden toothed blades and begin sawing off the beast¡¯s tail. The briserr has a deep hollow cry. Once the tail is detached, the nersaw begin cut off the legs. They leave the beast to bleed to death. The arkybes do not cheer this victory. Instead, they talk amongst themselves.


    ¡°Perhaps, to brutal a kill,¡± Kynthelig states. To which, King Soltimork say, ¡°The world is brutal drikyn. I think it¡¯s time they remember that.¡±


    When the arena is cleared, he stands from his seat. With a gesture of his hand, there is silence. He holds up before the crowd a lantern. Within it, black beetles hatch from white round eggs. King Soltimork opens the lantern, and the air is filled with faint buzzing. Lightless, the releasing of the beetles resemble an ominous black shadow flowing out from the lantern. An uneasiness falls over the crowd. As the buzzing fades, whispers grow. Reality strikes the audience. Soon, some begin to cry. Others simply stand to leave. King Soltimork pulls from his side a silver hammer. He strikes the handrail before him. A thunderous roar devoirs all other sounds. Blue light flows down from the king¡¯s balcony into the arena floor. The sand rises into a mountain peak before collapsing back into itself. The crowd is silent once more. Their eyes fixated on the king.


    ¡°My fellow arkybes,¡± he begins, ¡°do not be afraid. The Kye Marah comes, but we knew it would. We have known all our lives. When I was young, the thought frightened me. I thought why me, why in my life must this happen. I felt I didn¡¯t deserve this. I told this to my father, and he said to me, ¡®it doesn¡¯t do you any good thinking about what you deserve. All that matters is what you do about what is.¡¯ It took me time to realize what the old conger meant. The Kye Marah comes whether we deserve it or not. People will die, whether they deserve it or not. But we have the advantage, we have known for a thousand years the Kye Marah is coming. So tell me, what have you done with that knowledge. I¡¯ll tell you what I¡¯ve done.¡±


    ¡°sixteen years ago, I brought forth this mountain. It is the furthest mountain east of Dathagruin. It lies directly on the Kye Marah¡¯s path. I did this knowing, in my life, the Kye Marah would rise once again. Why do such a thing? Was it arrogance, madness? No, when I raised this mountain I had one thought. I refuse to be afraid. I refuse to run or hide from a challenge. With that thought, I struck the ground and raised a mountain greater than any mortal had. This mountain, which surpasses even Orvit¡¯s, is the embodiment of my unwavering spirit.¡±


    ¡°My wife and I waited five years to have our first child. We did this, so the responsibility of killing the Kye Marah would not fall onto our son. Killing the Kye Marah would fall on me. I knew I would need Cladimait to do this. In one year, I will pass down Cladimait to my son, Prince Reidulf, and he will raise his own great mountain. But before that, I will do what no arkybe,¡± King Soltimork pauses, ¡°No, no mortal has ever done. I will kill the Kye Marah.¡±


    ¡°Many say I can¡¯t. Many say I¡¯m mad. Mad like Orvit they say. I take this as a great compliment. And perhaps I am mad, but no fool. After the birth of my son, I left Vaskmarr. It left to build an army. One I knew I¡¯d need. The gora, strong and proud, are they. I knew if I united the five tribes, I would have an army likes of which none ever saw. In only six years, I accomplished that goal. For those six years, I battled chiefs and beast and things the likes none of you will ever see. It was a harsh time and more than once it nearly killed me; but, it was worth it. I had my army. And I told that army to gather all that kills: tars, oils, weapons, toxins, and poisons. They spent the next five years gathering supplies for the greatest battle the history of Mur would ever know.¡±


    ¡°While my army prepared, I finally returned home; I found my mountain flourishing under the guidance of my beloved wife, Queen Aslog. That very night, we conceived young Prince Rosarr. Now my children are grown, and the enemy is awakening. I know you are all afraid, but hear me. I stand before you with an army of ten thousand to my back and the god hammer Cladimait in my hand. And I say to you again, do not be afraid!¡±

 Chapter 2: Overwhelming Hatred

    ¡°I hate you. I hate you for what you are, and I pity you for not seeing what you are. Someday you will though. You will see exactly what I do. On that day, you will hate me. You will hate me almost as much as you hate yourself.¡± ~Prince Orvit


    As the new millennium begins, life goes on mostly unchanged. Soldiers watch for the Kye Marah day and night. Stories of King Soltimork¡¯s festival are heard across Mur. They gossip about the strength and brutality of the gora. Some go so far as to say; they believe such ferocious beasts could slay the Kye Marah. They speak of King Soltimork¡¯s speech and his army of ten thousand. The mountains are ripe with this gossip, and King Soltimork knows it. He sends envoys to ever mountain. They carry the king request for soldiers. The message is heard, but few follow the call. Arkybes are a careful people; they do not run into danger if it can be avoided. Disappointment strikes King Soltimork when only a few hundred arkybes are sent to aid him. The reality of his people begins to set in.


    In a hundred day, the month of Airigid ends. Prince Reidulf trains with cladimait under the supervision of his father. He works with clay to shape his own mountain. Tirelessly, Reidulf trains to become a king. His younger brother, Prince Rosarr watches him intently every hour of every day.


    Diadric spends most her time playing with the young princess or listening to Kynthelig¡¯s many stories. As of Soltimork¡¯s request, Diadric does not leave the palace. On rare occasions, Princess Abi convinces Diadric to take to the sky in her dragon form, with the princess riding on her back. When Diadric refuses, Abi mopes about the royal guardian.


    The king busies himself with preparations against the Kye Marah. Most meetings include just General Drahg and himself, sometimes the chiefs of the five tribes. Diadric is rarely called in as her part never changes. It is always fly and burn. She also knows very little about the Kye Marah¡¯s weaknesses other than fire. The only strategy she knows is to burn the Kye Marah to death with overwhelming magical power. With the king so busy, it falls on Queen Aslog to see to the daily needs of the people.


    It isn¡¯t until a little over half of the second month on the fifty-eighth of Athidal, that the Kye Marah is spotted far off in the distance. At first, it resembles a thin black line on the horizon; but as the days pass, the black line grows more and more. It seeps forward at a snail¡¯s pace. Another month will pass before it reaches Vaskmarr. During this time, moods grow tense. The people find themselves watching the great shadow inch ever closer, like a blade slowing being pushed into their hearts. Their faith in Soltimork fades as the shadow only grows ever larger, its end yet to pass the horizon. Not until the eighty-first of Athidal, do the arkybes final see the tail of the beast. The kye Marah resembles a great black lake in the form of a slug.


    In the morning of Athidal, the ninety-third, Diadric rests in the lap of Kynthelig under the first tree of Vaskmarr. It is a beautiful tree with a smooth purple-red bark and light blue leaves which hang from drooping branches. When in bloom, lovely pink flowers cover the tree. These flowers have the softest peddles in Diadric¡¯s opinion and smell sweeter than sugar tastes. Even out of bloom, the tree holds a pungent scent, which reminds her of honey.


    Kynthelig smokes a potent mixture of herbs while telling Diadric a childhood tale, ¡°It was my uncle Ilbani Catreppa who finally pulled me from the cave in.¡±


    ¡°How fortunate you survived,¡± Diadric says while fiddling with a collection of her favorite fabrics. The collection is held together by a gold ring. It contains several fur patches, three types of wool, and one silk. As a dragon, Diadric knew only sight and sound. She could not feel the world through her thick stone body. She had no tongue to taste the air, nor nostrils to smell it. In the single year of life she has lived, Diadric found the world far fuller than she had imagined.


    ¡°Indeed it was,¡± Kynthelig replies. He begins muttering to himself searching his mind for an untold tale. It amuses Diadric, Kynthelig¡¯s desire to entertain his goddess. It is for this reason, no matter how many stories he tells she is always willing to hear another.


    As Diadric¡¯s head lies on Kynthelig¡¯s lap, her white hair spreads out around them. It glows with overflowing magical energy. Much like the tentacles of an octopus, Diadric¡¯s hairs have minds of their own. They slither through grass and float in the air. They expand and detract to great length at will.


    Before Kynthelig begins his story, Princess Abi appears in the garden. As soon as she sees Diadric, Abi sprints up the grass laid path. Diadric¡¯s hairs open a way for the girl. She drops to her knees at Diadric¡¯s side, who greets her, ¡°Good day, would you like to join us for a spell?¡±


    Princess Abi shakes her head, ¡°Pampa sent me.¡±


    ¡°He did?¡±


    ¡°Un-huh,¡± Princess Abi says gasping for breath, ¡°he¡¯s with Reidulf in the mountain room.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I see,¡± Diadric says, rising to her feet, ¡°well let¡¯s not keep them waiting.¡±


    As Diadric walks, her hair floats behind her. It swims through the air like an eel in water. Kynthelig follows a few steps behind and to Diadric¡¯s left.  As he smokes, he hums somewhat of a waltz. Princess Abi holds Diadric¡¯s hand and smiles up at her, ¡°Can we fly there?¡±


    ¡°But it¡¯s indoors, and we¡¯re almost at the palace,¡± Diadric says, ¡°and what of Kynthelig. It would be rude to leave him.¡±


    ¡°Alright,¡± the princess says as she looks at her feet in defeat. Kynthelig humming quickens and grows harsher. It pulls Diadric¡¯s attention and advises caution; however, she can¡¯t stop pity from falling upon her face as she looks down at the princess. Against her better judgment, Diadric says, ¡°Well, how about after. We can fly through the night sky, and I¡¯ll take you right to your bedroom window.¡±


    ¡°Really,¡± Abi asks. Her head jolts back up with a smile twice as large on her face. Diadric laughs and Kynthelig¡¯s humming slows and dissipates into the background. Giggling, Diadric responds, ¡°Of course.¡±


    The mountain room, as Abi calls it, is a large circular room in the center of the palace. On its walls are paintings of all twenty mountain erected by arkybes so far. In the center of the room is a sandpit. There, Prince Reidulf practices with Cladimait. He kneels before the sand. Cladimait raised above his head. With his eyes closed, Reidulf takes a deep breath. Quickly he brings down the hammer and strikes the sand. Blue light emits from the hammer. The sands begin to rise and shift. A tiny mountain starts to form. As it rises, the mountain shape alters frequently. Without a solid form, the mountain grows more unstable as it rises. Ultimately, it collapses in on itself.


    ¡°That¡¯s enough for today,¡± King Soltimork says. He sits outside of the sandpit to Reidulfs right. His arms crossed, he observes his son, ¡°go and rest, and think over what we talked about.¡±


    ¡°Yes, father¡± Reidulf replies, defeat heavy in his voice. He leaves the sandpit and hands Cladimait back to Soltimork. Diadric notices blood on the hilt. Reidulf walks pass the three silently. Diadric turns toward him and considers saying something. Kynthelig, knowing better, steps between her and Reidulf. She hears the door open and soon close. Diadric then turns back around and heads over to the king with Abi and Kynthelig.


    ¡°I bought Diadric,¡± Princess Abi yells to the king. He smiles at her, ¡°Yes Abi, you did very good. Now go along and play; I must speak to her alone.¡±


    ¡°ok,¡± Abi replies. She looks up at Diadric, ¡°don¡¯t forget you promised.¡±


    She then grabs Kynthelig¡¯s hand. Pulling him, she says, ¡°Come on Kyn, we have to go.¡±


    Kynthelig looks to Diadric, who nods her head. The two leave the room out the same door as Reidulf. As Diadric approaches the king, he asks, ¡°What promise?¡±


    ¡°Oh, nothing, I just promised to play with her before bed,¡± She then asks, ¡°what happened? I thought Reidulf already knew how to form mountains.¡±


    ¡°Any mountain sure, but not his mountain,¡± King Soltimork says wiping the blood from the handle of Cladimait, ¡°Different mountains are better for different things. Reidulf still doesn¡¯t know what kind of king he wants to be, and what type of people he wants to lead. So how could he know what type of mountain he wants to make.¡±


    ¡°I thought that¡¯s what all the clay sculpting was for. Are none of those good enough?¡±


    ¡°Of course not, those sculptures were just to show him the different things he could do, not the final result. And it¡¯s about more than that. The shape of his mountain will decide what his people can do: pottery, fishing, hunting, farming, mining, forging, and so on? He doesn¡¯t want a hunting mountain like mine. No surprise there. The boy never had the stomach for killing. It seems farming and pottery are his desired fields. Pottery is easy enough; just need clay, water, and heat. As for farming, he doesn¡¯t know what type of crops to grow, and not all crops grow in the same field. ¡°


    ¡°What happened to his hand?¡±


    ¡°Oh that,¡± The king laughs, ¡°well, for us mortals magic has its price. When one uses Cladimait, it turns their skin to dust. Not much, mind you. We¡¯ve been at this all day and he just now started to bleed. It does get more intense the more you ask of the hammer. My hands were all but skinned when I raised Vaskmarr.¡±


    ¡°Really, it¡¯s a fair price. To raise a great mountain, one must endure great pain,¡± Soltimork¡¯s looks down at the hammer, and his voice grows somber, ¡°It does beg the question, what would it cost to surpass Iuee. I doubt he suffered the same when he raised Dathagruin, aye¡±


    ¡°Fascinating, I wonder if I have such limits now,¡± she says so plainly Soltimork raises an eyebrow.


    ¡°Yes, Diadric, that would be a fine thing to know,¡± The king states far more seriously, ¡°And I know just how to test it. You see, several days ago, I sent a party to practice some of our poisons on the Kye Marah. They should have returned by now.¡±Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    ¡°There probably died,¡± Diadric says just as plainly.


    ¡°Yes, I have no doubt of that,¡± King Soltimork replies, ¡°But I still need to know which poisons work and which don¡¯t. So I¡¯m sending out another party. And to make sure they get back alive, I want you to accompany them.¡±


    ¡°It would be my pleasure,¡± Diadric says delighted to be leaving her gilded cage, ¡°but you¡¯ll have to tell Abi why I can¡¯t play with her tonight.¡±


    ¡°It was just playing, right,¡± King Soltimork asks.


    ¡°Well, playing, flying,¡± Diadric answers, her eyes wondering about the room. A spark of rage strikes the king, but quickly fades as he sighs, ¡°Really, I should be proud to have such a fearless daughter; but I don¡¯t care for all that flying, and I could do without the rumors of conjurors and dragons and those flames.¡±


    ¡°I think she¡¯ll make a great queen someday,¡± Diadric reassures, ¡°besides there not hot flames, more illusions than anything.¡±


    ¡°Fine, I¡¯ll talk to her,¡± King sighs, ¡°You should leave for the east road at once. The party waits for you across the bridge.¡±


    She leaves Soltimork. Once outside, her hair lights on fire and grows rapidly. It forms the frame of her dragon body. Her mortal self is pulled into the cavity of the chest as it closes. Scales and feathers grow from the strands of hair like leaves on a branch. Thin capes of light make the folds of her wings. She takes to the sky.


    Within moments, Diadric reaches the east bridge. She lands on the other side of the moat, which surrounds the mountain. As she touches the ground, her dragon form dissolves. It flows back into hairs, which float behind her as she steps.


    The wasteland of Mur is a hard, cracked floor covered in a thin coat of sand. A party of four waits for her nearby. Two arkybes ride atop feathered horses. The riders wear thick robes and long hoods. Wool scarf¡¯s mask their faces. Slouched over the moat, a hobgargen fiddles with a bronze spear. He dresses far less than the arkybes, wearing only a morcaisel fur skirt. Diadric is greeted by a grimmora pulling two horses, ¡°I are Drahger, eighth son of Drahg. You come to hunt?¡±


    Diadric smiles at him. He wears a heavy fur-coated bronze armor, a bronze plated fur skirt, and skull cap. A long red feather, from a Loreteoc serpent, sticks out from the tip of the cap. Given his appearance, the grimmora is high ranking in his tribe. Diadric can¡¯t help but wonder about his name. Normally, gora names are meaningless sounds. They hold no greater value than the gora thinks it makes for a good war cry. It is possible this is true of Drahger, but to choose a name so close to his father¡¯s is odd. Diadric resists the urge to ask. Instead, she greets him, ¡°Good day, Drahger, eighth son of Drahg. I am Diadric and, yes, I do come to hunt.¡±


    ¡°Magic hairs,¡± The grimmora nods.


    ¡±They are not hairs, Drahger,¡± Diadric corrects, ¡°but thousands of magic strings, which once pulled a great marionette.¡±


    ¡°Now they can only mimic its form,¡± She says softer as she walks past him. Diadric hops onto one of the horse and yells, ¡°come now while the sun is still up.¡±


    The party rides for the rest of first the day and through the night.  They break for a midday meal on the second day and continue riding until night. They rest for the second night. As they sit around the fire, the taller of the arkybes, Eyskip, offers Diadric a blanket. She feels the fabric, which is rough and itchy, before refusing the offer.


    ¡°Won¡¯t you be cold, Diadric,¡± the other Arkybe, Lygaug asks looking at her apparel. Diadric wears far less than any arkybe would in the wastelands. Her outfit consists of a top, which is but a thin strip of fine green silk covering only her chest, and a skirt, while full length is made from the same thin green fabric and split into four wide ribbons, the rest of her body is bare. Given the lack of an offer the night before, Diadric wonders if her comfort is the men¡¯s only concern.


    ¡°No,¡± Diadric states, ¡°I never get cold, and I enjoy the feeling of cold on my skin. I never know such a tingle when I was a dragon.¡±


    ¡°So you are Elder Dragon,¡± the hobgargen, Crogg, asks. Diadric nods her head. Crogg ponders this for a moment before he says, ¡°Why you become this?¡±


    ¡°It is not your right to ask, hobgargen,¡± Eyskip yells. Crogg growls back at him. With the arkybes and Crogg watching each other, Drahger is the only one looking at Diadric, who is merely staring at the ground. ¡°Because a man once said I would grow to hate myself. And he was right.¡±


    Now, she had the entire party attention, all except Drahger. With his back to the fire, He curled up, like a sleeping dog. ¡°Time for rest, so sleep.¡±


    Crogg slept in much the fashion of Drahger. The arkybes lied on their backs, wrapped in their blankets, their heads to the fire. Diadric did not sleep. It was something her body did not do. She stared deep into the flames. Her hair danced about her head, mimicking the campfire. While she could not sleep, Diadric could slow her mind allowing time speed up. Slowly Seconds turned to minutes and minutes turned to hours. In what felt like only a short break, night turned to day, and the party began to rise.


    For three more days the party traveled across the wastelands. Crogg sung songs of his people in his native tongue, which to the arkybes sounded like a trapped hound and seemed to aggravate the horses. The arkybes told stories of the twenty mortal mountains. An argument broke out between the arkybes and Crogg on the fourth night of their journey. It was regarding the granddaughter of Orvit, Trunadhir. It is known she did not agree with her grandfather in many ways. Trunadhir was the first to raise a mountain outside the Kye Marah¡¯s path. Crogg accused her of being a coward. The arkybes took exception to that. The argument was ended by Drahger. Diadric spoke little but was asked many questions. Only Drahger spoke less than her.


    On the evening of Athidal, the ninety-eighth, the party set up a camp roughly half a league from the Kye Marah.             Before calling it a night, they decide to test one poison and ride over to the monster. The Kye Marah is a large pool of thick black slime. It reaches only ankle height. Huge Bubbles pop on its back and bits of unfinished creature grow and dissolve throughout it. The party dismount and Drahger grabs a glass bottle tide to his horse. He shows it to Diadric, ¡°From the guts of the Loreteoc.¡±


    Diadric nods. Drahger opens the bottle and splashes some over the Kye Marah. The ooze sizzles for a second; before the poison is swallowed into the mass. The party waits, but nothing else happens. Drahger walks closer to the creature and begins to empty the bottle over it. This time, something rises from the ooze. It¡¯s a giant faceless monster with only one arm. The arm is overgrown and has a club for a hand. The monster drags it through the ooze as it runs toward Drahger. He tosses the bottle at the monster with such force it burst. The monster seems unfazed even as its skin begins to bubble around the splash.


    Drahger pulls a bronze sword from his belt. He readies himself for the charge but is pushed out of the way by Diadric. A whirling beam of fire erupted from the dragon head already formed from her hairs. The flames incinerate the top half of the monster instantly. Diadric turns to Drahger, who throws his sword into the ooze. It strikes the head of an already forming large mouthed hound. Diadric helps him up and pushes Drahger toward the party as five more hounds rise from the Kye Marah. As she burns them all, Diadric says to the party, ¡°Head back to camp and rest the night. You won¡¯t be able to properly test any more poisons today.¡±


    ¡°What of you,¡± Drahger asks.


    ¡°I have my own test to see to,¡± she answers taking her full dragon form. The party leaves as instructed and head back to camp, half a league from the Kye Marah. Diadric remains destroying abomination after abomination. Soon, she flies above the Kye Marah and begins dusting it in fire. As she does, giant serpents with heavy bone covered skulls rise from the Kye Marah. To kill them, Diadric concentrates her flames into a single beam, which slice through the snakes. They burn and blister as they fall dead back into the Kye Marah¡¯s slime.


    Hours pass and day turns to night. A new feeling flows through the dragons. Diadric grows fatigued and even hot. Unfortunately, a far stronger and older feeling stops her from leaving. A dark primal hatred for the Kye Marah pushes the onslaught. Diadric continues to fly over the monster. Coated in flames, the Kye Marah folds into itself over and over.


    Soon, a familiar creature rises from the ooze, a great black wyrm. Only a fraction of its girth and length, the wyrm still dwarfs Diadric. She appears no more than only a tiny bird in its wake. Even her most powerful flames only cut so deep before the ooze heals wounds. Greater grows Diadric wrath for the wyrm is so closely resembles her sisters. She sees her sister¡¯s six red eyes and a mouth of bristled teeth. An eater of sand was her sister. From the earth, she formed life. Now this monster takes her form and twists it.


    Pointlessly, Diadric cuts into the wyrm again and again. In return, the monster vomits black ooze at her. Diadric engulfs herself in flames to burn the ooze. Creatures soon fly with the ooze and grab at Diadric as they fall back into the Kye Marah. The two continue to fight until the light of morning. Pain burns into Diadric¡¯s skull as she fights. Only when her vision begins to fade, Diadric chooses to flee. She flies north toward the party. She finds them a mile from the Kye Marah on their return. As Diadric lands, the world turns black. She feels a sharp pain as she strikes the ground with a thud.


    When Diadric wakes, she finds Kynthelig looming over her. He is pouring a shiny gold oil over her hair. When she tries to rise, Kynthelig pushes her back down, ¡°Rest goddess; your hair must soak.¡±


    ¡°What are you doing,¡± Diadric asks in a daze, ¡°What is that.¡±


    ¡°You don¡¯t recognize it,¡± Kynthelig asks. She stares up at him questioningly. He continues, ¡°it is blood from your old body. When I pulled your heart from your chest, this gold liquid flowed from the wound. I gathered as much as I could for safe keeping. I don¡¯t know if it really helps, but it is all I could think to do. These hairs held your heart to that stone; I think they are veins in some way. Not like mine, but like the roots of a tree. I thought, if I soaked your hair in this blood, you might wake up sooner.¡±


    Diadric smiles up at Kynthelig. Tears fall from the old drikyn¡¯s eyes, ¡°I¡¯m glad you¡¯re awake, goddess.¡±


    Shortly, King Soltimork enters the room. He is accompanied by the Queen and his three children. Princess Abi races to Diadric¡¯s side. Her face is swollen from crying. Diadric puts a hand to her cheek to console the poor girl but finds her arms bandaged. She looks to Kynthelig, ¡°Your arms and feet were burned. It seems your fires were moving up your body. It is the price of overusing your magic, I fear.¡±


    Diadric thinks back to Reidulf¡¯s bleeding hand. She then looks to the king, ¡°It seems I failed to test your poisons. I am sorry.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯ve learned something far more important. Your powers have their limits and their price,¡± He states, his voice heavy, ¡°It seems you can only battle the Kye Marah for a single night before fainting. And it takes four full days for you to awake.¡±


    ¡°Four days,¡± Diadric asks. The king nods, ¡°Yes, it is the second of Carcech. Drahger brought you back as fast as his horse would allow.¡±


    ¡°But time may not be the only factor. How much Kynthelig¡¯s treatment helped is unclear,¡± the king states glances at Kynthelig for a second, ¡°It is possible that only this blood can wake you. As for your hands and feet, we still don¡¯t know how long those will take to heal.¡±


    ¡°As of right now, I can only use you for an hour at a time,¡± Soltimork continues, ¡°and we have no idea how long you must rest between uses.¡±


    Diadric looks down at her bandaged hands; tears swell in her eyes. Kynthelig places his clawed hand over hers. He says, ¡°Magic is a dangerous thing in the hands of mortals. Destructive magic is even more dangerous than the rest. Many Drikyns have died in the pursuit of mastering fire. Those of us, who know how, use the power sparingly. I was unsure if you would be bound by the same laws. I apologize for not being there when you needed me. But you are fortunate. The firee did not take your tongue or eyes. It did not kill you, and I am sure your hands will heal quickly now that you are awake.¡±


    ¡°But what can I do now,¡± Diadric asks, ¡°I gave up all my power to help Orvit¡¯s children; but, what can I do now.¡±


    ¡°What do you mean? You can still fight,¡± says Prince Riedulf in a strong loud voice, ¡°that¡¯s more than I¡¯m allowed. I saw you battle that thing. Your fires lit up the night and the giant it was forced to summon. Who knows how much you hurt it. Who knows how much closer it is to death. Even if it is just an hour a day for the rest of the year, I bet you could kill it alone.¡±


    ¡°And we¡¯ll kill it much sooner than that,¡± King Soltimork declares, ¡°but we¡¯ll need you, Diadric, now more than ever.¡±