Let it be known that the Cortana of the undying flame has forsaken the covenant of dragons and joined forces with the hellspawn creation of the Progenitors, those known as the Dragonkin. For her crime, Cortana is banished from Dragath, and none may grant her aid. Only death awaits oathbreakers.

  Arcturous, Dragon Emporer & God of Dragons

  said before the High Council of the Fae

  in Sparkle Kingdom, Dragath

  This story begins with not our protagonists but with their mother. Her name is Ausrine, and she is not exactly what you would call normal. Ausrine reigns over the remnants of a once-vast empire and is a mother to her children. Her firstborn child was named Kruonis after the goddess of time, and he was the named heir to her throne. Kruonis has a fraternal twin sister named Kruonai, often referred to as the golden child for her kinder, gentler disposition. The twins had been born several years ago and were old enough to begin their training on ruling an empire. Their primary watcher is a specially appointed maid, a fierce dragon named Cortana. She has leveraged her magic to take the form of a young human female with fiery red hair. On this warm summer afternoon, the twins napped peacefully under Cortana’s watchful eyes as Ausrine tended to the needs of the empire.

  Ausrine maintained a steady breath as she dashed down the passageway with a fleeting swiftness despite her heavy plate armour, stirring up dust with each step of her passing. The wind swirled around her and tainted her long blonde locks of hair with dust. She allowed her hair to flow freely, unrestrained in the dusty breeze of the corridor. Ausrine never bothered to have her attendants put her hair up unless she expected to become embroiled in fierce combat. The sound of loud huffing and puffing came from behind her as two of her most trusted guards – her bodyguards – struggled to keep up with the rigorous pace on the uneven ground of the ancient corridor. Like her, they wore their armour even within the safety of the castle. Their footsteps echoed off the old and decrepit walls of this passageway.

  Ausrine was as familiar with each part of the castle as she was with her own body, with every stone seemingly teeming with life to her senses. Her ancestors had built the castle using their immense talent for elemental magic, and it had been her home for most of her life. According to the official records kept in a special vault, the structure had stood for over thirty thousand years. The dragonkin had built it when they had first united all races under their banner. Yet, in this unmaintained wing of the castle, you could feel the oppressive silence of the deep earth, the long memory of stone. The halls smelt of dust and rust, stonework stained with ancient blood giving off a faint odour reminisce of exposed iron.

  The sconces on the walls emitted the soft and faint glow of enchanted gemstones, blessed to provide light in these corridors for all time. In eras past, this passage would have been carpeted and decorated, very well maintained – but it is now just an unpreserved relic, carpets long since rotted to dust. A reminder of past glory but only useful now as a quiet meeting place away from prying eyes and ears.

  As Ausrine glanced over her shoulder, her grim thoughts of the approaching task vanished as if they never existed. Instead, a grin threatened to split her face in two as she observed the status of her guards. They were out of breath, faces flushed from exertion. The pace Ausrine kept was too much for them in their heavy plate armour, despite the benefits of being of the much-touted dragonkin bloodline – as thin as it may run within their veins. She realized that they could not maintain her harsh pace much longer, and she slowed down to a brisk walk. They quickly caught up and flanked her. Kastytis, the guard on her left, smiled slightly to show his relief and thanks. Jurate was as silent as usual, aside from the clanking sound of his armour as he marched alongside Ausrine. Since her days as a youthful princess, both Kastytis and Jurate had been Ausrine’s attendants. They had witnessed her marriage and ascendance to the throne at her father’s death.

  They were both proven warriors, survivors of many battles. But, while they were hardy, Ausrine was even more potent. Like them, she wore armour, but hers was made of thicker, heavier titanium plates adorned with woven silver and enchanted gemstones. While Ausrine could barely feel the heaviness of her armour, its weight would crush her guards. Ausrine carried a large shield and a bastard sword into battle. She was a terror to her enemies, smashing through their armour as though it were glass. On the battlefield, she appeared as a titan; massive, strong, and unstoppable.

  An ancient stone wall with illegible cryptic runes written upon it marked the end of the passageway. Ausrine closed her eyes, reaching out with her mind to sense any life in the courtyard beyond the wall. When her magic felt nothing of note, she reached out with her right hand and pressed firmly on a stone brick in the center of the wall. The wall shivered as if the stones were alive and quickly faded into an ephemeral mist. Ausrine let out a tense breath that she did not know she was holding. She and her guards entered the abandoned courtyard cautiously.

  Kastytis tapped a stone to the left of the exit with his dark hands, sealing the passageway. Ausrine glanced around, her eyes searching for observers while her magic searched for life. As with most of the abandoned courtyards within the castle, the area had fallen into complete disarray. The flowers had overgrown their once orderly gardens, with rosebushes lining most walls and magically shaped stone benches scattered at regular intervals covered with moss and lichens. Lilacs and tulips sprouted from the center garden creating a lush and intoxicating fragrance that filled the air. As Ausrine settled upon a bench, Kastytis and Jurate moved to stand on either side of her. Now, they waited.

  Luckily, they did not need to wait for long. Footsteps echoed from a distance and quickly approached. A short and lithe human guard came forward wearing the lighter leather gear of a scout and the shifty countenance that would typically be associated with an inept thief or assassin. His armour was damaged and bloodied from his journey, and he walked with a limp, holding his cloak close. The young man could not help but spot the Empress immediately as he entered the courtyard.

  He had entered the castle through one of the servant entrances, minimizing those who had seen him return and made his way here to give his report. Under normal circumstances, the scout would have made his report to his commanding officer before seeking medical attention. This scout had been given particular orders by Ausrine to not be seen and report only to her. He had triggered an emergency beacon that had translocated him to the castle from where he had been assigned.

  Ausrine’s sapphire eyes pierced him like cold steel daggers, transfixing him and intruding upon the darkest recesses of his mind. He could feel her magic tugging at him as he approached and met her eyes. Her magic demanded the answers only he could provide, a nagging suspicion that only he could affirm. Ausrine would tolerate no lies, no falsehoods, no evasive replies. He trembled under the pressure of her gaze as he approached her spot on the bench, kneeling five strides away. Ausrine spoke first, breaking the awkward silence with her impatience. Her voice was soft and gentle yet filled with unyielding strength.

  “Jason, my blessing is upon you,” Ausrine said. “I was surprised when the magic of your necklace was triggered, teleporting you and warning me that you brought news. What happened? You are slow to report and obviously severely injured.”

  “My Empress. Please forgive me; I have failed you.” Jason whispered, his tired voice screaming his pain within each syllable. His cloak slipped to the side for a moment, revealing a badly bandaged gash across his side. It was evident from his limbs trembling that his injuries were critical and in need of urgent medical attention. Ausrine used her magic to probe his wound and realized he was hurt beyond even the most potent restorative magics.

  Despite his grievous wound, Jason prioritized his message’s delivery over his own life and well-being. He had taken it upon himself to decide that his news was of paramount importance. Unlike many of the guards’ human malcontents, Jason remembered his oath of service as a royal guard member. Few lacking the dragonkin bloodline had the honour or opportunity to serve alongside the royal guard, making Jason a rarity. He had been hand-selected as the guardian and watcher of the oracle by the Empress herself. Yet merely being chosen for the duty did not inspire trust from the two royal bodyguards that were ever-present at the side of the empress. They stood, stone-faced, watching Jason with cold eyes. They stood on either side of the stone bench, hands on their swords, ready to draw if Jason merely blinked wrong.

  In the silence, Jason’s laboured breathing was a sickening wheeze, rattling and rasping forth from his chest. Kastytis looked upon Jason with disgusted impatience. Taking his cue from the bodyguard, Jason shook off his lethargy to meet Ausrine’s eyes.

  “What happened to you?” Ausrine said, choosing to start with the most obvious question.

  “The oracle was attacked by unknown assailants. I tried to protect her by your order, but they easily killed the priestesses and guards. My strength was insufficient to defend her. The attack triggered something deep within her as if something had burst forth from her soul as she breathed her last.” Jason replied. “I used the magical scroll you gave me to scribe her words as the oracle herself spoke them. Her words carried the weight of prophecy, my Empress.”

  Jason reached into his blood-splattered breastplate with trembling hands and retrieved a sealed scroll case he had secreted. Jason nervously rolled the scroll case forward. Kastytis moved forward from Ausrine’s left side, mumbling and muttering, casting minor protective wards and detection spells within his power. Kastytis picked up the scroll case firmly and moved back into position. He moved to open the scroll case but froze as Ausrine raised her hand to halt him. He paused in his actions, alert to her every wish.

  Ausrine studied Jason, meeting his eyes. Her voice, soft and light yet tinged with worry and anger, sounded loud in the quiet courtyard. “I will review the written recording in a moment, Kastytis. For now, I wish for Jason to illuminate why he has appeared before me half dead and distressed, laggard in his duty.”

  Upon hearing the displeasure in her voice, Jason’s shoulders sagged under the weight of her disappointment. He spoke quietly. “I saw the immortal high priestess die; her body pierced by a darkened arrow made from void-tainted steel. Never again shall she utter a guiding prophesy, and it was my unworthy hands that failed her in her final moments.”

  Kastytis cursed loudly, earning him a brief look of annoyance from Ausrine. Jason faltered for a moment as he collected his breath.

  “As the oracle died, she gave me her last words, laced with traces of arcane power, a final prophecy etched in soul magics. But every word she spoke cost her dearly. She was consumed by her own power.” Jason continued, stammering. “Her final death scream will haunt me forever, even into my own grave. Every word she foretold seemed to rend her spirit and strip the life from her until there was no more. Bleeding, bloodied from the attack, she withered away into dust before my eyes.”

  “One prophecy is given and one fulfilled,” Ausrine whispered to herself. The sound of her voice was ever so slight as Jason’s words echoed softly in the quiet courtyard. The echo of his words was filled with the horror that had imprinted itself on the scout’s soul. Ausrine seemed to fold in on herself, with her shoulders slumped and her head bowed. Her eyes glistened with sadness and pity. The oracle had once been a close friend and confidant of hers.

  Kastytis spoke, his deep voice sounding too loud in the space. “If the ancient one is dead, will what she foresaw for our people come to pass? Will we fade from memory?”

  “Not quite yet, or at least not soon, but her death was foretold as the beginning of our end. Kruonis may well be the last full-blooded dragonkin to be born.” Ausrine’s voice was as clear as a bell and yet filled with sadness and anxiety for her children. She took the scroll case from Kastytis and tucked it into a pouch at her side. Looking down at Jason, she spoke again, sounding perilous. “Jason, as close as you can recall, recite the prophecy as you believe that you heard it.”

  “Every word is burned into my mind, my empress,” Jason said. “She spoke of the rise of great darkness, a figure rising from the depths to smother all of the lands in a shadowy death. We are chained to our fate, and the differences that keep us apart must unite us so that we may face the darkness that comes. She spoke of the twins, of their fate. One will forge a blade; the other will forge a people. It was confusing, and at times it was as if two voices were there.”

  Ausrine nodded carefully, memorizing Jason’s summarized interpretation. Jason had served the dragonkin for about twenty years and was quickly entering his elder years – humans lived such brief lives to those of the longer-lived races. For the first time in his life, the castle’s ancient stone walls around them felt heavy and oppressive, no longer the safeguards they once were. Ausrine’s eyes seemed to glint like steel as she broke the seal on the messenger tube and read the magic-etched, elegant, flowing script.

  Even within the depths of darkness,

  There is a light that is not godless,

  A shadow stands strong to protect,

  The light which we may reflect.

  Forged in blood and fire, a newly made blade is imbued with a soul.

  Lost in blood and tears, a forgotten soul shall rise once more to glory.

  Even lost in despair,

  Life endures with a prayer,

  While death may yet approach,

  The void cannot encroach.

  A shadowy bargain is struck, and destiny’s wind blows ever onwards.

  The chains of destiny lie broken amidst the winds of war and glory.

  The differences that make us unique,

  Must not make us weak,

  United we stand,

  Ready to face whatever is planned.

  Only through unity can they overcome adversity. But is it worth it?

  The dragon rises ever higher against the darkness seeking godhood.

  Before the Guardian,

  Even the void can be overrun,

  The pantheon chose wrong,

  Yet, in faith, we stand strong.

  Seize the mantel of the goddess lest it is forgotten.

  Forge allegiances with both the dark and the light.

  Lives may be broken,

  Truths left unspoken,

  Bereft the sands of time,

  Their bond shall shine.

  The guardian is bound by the sands of time no longer.

  Power to yet defy all of the gods in the heavens.

  She committed the words to memory. Ausrine thought back to Jason’s remarks about the oracle’s prophecy, and a sad truth dawned on her as Jason met her eyes. It would be both a mercy and a necessity for the ageing scout.

  “In life and death, I serve you, my empress,” Jason said, his voice calm.

  Her eyes softened slightly. Jason had known, and yet he still came. Ausrine moved like a lightning bolt, drawing her blade so quickly that even her guards did not see the sword leave its sheath. Before either of her guards or Jason could react, Ausrine leaped forward with the tip of her sword leading. Jason made a soft gurgling noise as he died, choking briefly on his blood before the blade ended his life. Ausrine had tears running down her face but felt no regret at her actions – it was an unfortunate necessity. With a whisper, she incinerated Jason’s remains, leaving nothing but a fine dusting of ash scattered on the wind. Kastytis and Jurate started and sighed as Ausrine turned and vaulted over the bench, halting briefly to tap the wall before it opened. She quickly disappeared into the shadows of the passageway, barely pausing to wait for them to catch up with her. Her guards swiftly followed, and the wall slid back into place soon after they were hidden from view. Soon the stone garden was empty once more, unchanged but for a few scorched blades of grass and the addition of a small amount of dust.

  Neither guard spoke of the death they had just witnessed. They knew that Jason had fulfilled his duty and that Ausrine had granted him a swift end by her hand as a merciful reward for his service. Void-tainted weapons left wounds that few had the talent to heal. Better to be killed and purged than to risk becoming one of the Fallen.

  Ausrine’s woven silver and titanium plate armour seemed to slice through the air with a swish-swish, glittering, as she set a demanding pace back through the winding passageway. As Ausrine vaulted up ramps and pivoted around sharp corners, her guards rushed furiously to catch up with their empress. They managed the feat barely, and then only because the young empress was pacing herself accordingly. As they came up alongside her, she gave them their instructions.

  “Jurate, Kastytis,” Ausrine said. “Fetch me all of the members of the high council that you can find on such short notice. The high nobles’ representatives, the elves’ and dwarves’ ambassadors, and the royal commander – immediately but discreetly. I do not need to stir up the common folk.”

  “Yes, your highness.” They murmured in unison; voices tainted slightly with exasperation. This ask would take them a few hours to track down all the needed individuals. The representatives would balk and whine, resisting the summons and dragging out the request.

  The two guards moved to split up and begin the tedious job of finding the various politicians and their commanding officer. Still, Ausrine raised her hand to forestall them and keep them at her side. The group arrived at a seemingly dead end, a barren stone wall. Raising her slender hands, Ausrine drew arcane patterns on the wall causing the wall to become semi-transparent. Ausrine crossed the threshold into her royal chambers, walking through the translucent doorway.

  The opulence of the room was almost overwhelming. While most of the castle walls were depressingly desolate, the empress’s chambers were draped in red velvet and various layered silks. The floor had a soft, plush rug that occupied much of the room, centred under the enormous oaken bed. The twins were absent from their small beds, cuddled with Cortana in a blanket nest in the corner. Kastytis and Jurate followed Ausrine through the passageway door and moved to stand near the room's actual entrance. Ausrine quickly began to pace across the luxurious rug, her body filled with unrest and anger from the prophecy.

  Quietly, Ausrine gave the guards additional instruction. “Bring me the young wolf as well. Lord Ulric may be newly raised to his rank, but I believe he can be trusted with my plan. Let him know to stand quietly off to the side during the general meeting. He should hang back as the others leave to meet privately with the ambassadors and me. It would not do for the other representatives to think that he is special in some way.”

  Both Kastytis and Jurate nodded and headed to carry out their mission. Ausrine continued to pace, to devise her plans. Things would need to move fast once everyone was gathered. She was dealing with two prophecies, somehow interwoven. Plus, the older predictions linked the death of the oracle to the end of the dragonkin. According to it, when the ancient crones’ sight has seen its last, so too shall the dragon’s reign fade into darkness. Suppose the castle was to be attacked, and her life probably ended. In that case, Ausrine must plan for the safety and continuance of the bloodline. She was fiercely determined that her children must live.

  “Power to yet defy all of the gods in the heavens,” Ausrine muttered. “No power exists to defy a Celestial unless it is the freedom to choose as taught by the Progenitors. Could it be as simple as that? Or is Arcturous involved somehow?”

  Prophesied fate was fickle. For the lives of Kruonis and Kruonai to be guaranteed, the world would soon need to believe them to be dead. Ausrine knew that the void-tainted weapons used to kill the Oracle and injure Jason indicated that a demon planned to kill her and her children to take the throne. They would want all the loose threads cleaned up. When the twins grew into adulthood, they would need steadfast and trustworthy allies.

  Ausrine signed heavily, feeling the heaviness of her duty as a parent and a ruler. She would ensure that her children have the tools they need to survive. Lord Ulric would be amendable to hiding them away in his lands and facilitating their training in the arts of war. Humans were easily susceptible to demonic influence, so the enemy was likely to drive the elves and dwarves from the capital. Therefore, they should be warned of the coming darkness and sent away. A warning might elicit a promise of future friendship and aid for her children if the elves and dwarves managed to survive the coming evil.

  Everything would come down to ensuring that her children would have a future. The twins came and went as the hours passed quickly as she considered each option. Then, the doors to the Empress’s chamber creaked as they opened again, signalling the return of Kastytis. He entered the room, sliding through the partially opened doors.

  Looking at Ausrine, Kastytis sighed. “They are all here. Lord Ulric is in a shadowy corner, as you suggested.”

  Ausrine nodded at him, acknowledging the information. Weariness settled upon her shoulders like a veil and filled her with exhaustion. Ausrine glanced towards the blanket mound tucked into the corner of the room where the twins were sleeping and thought about joining them for the briefest of moments. Cortana lay beside them, wrapped in several blankets. Her fiery red hair hid her face in its tangles. Cortana’s proper form would strike fear into the hearts of most, and outside the castle walls, she would be hated, feared, and treated like a demonic monster. Ausrine had saved her life when the draconic maid was younger, so she served Ausrine with fierce loyalty despite the covenant of dragons.

  Ausrine paused when she noticed that the maid’s hand was holding the hand of her son, holding tightly onto each other even in sleep. Maybe Cortana’s allegiance had changed, Ausrine pondered with a smile. Ausrine walked to the ancient oak doors of her chamber. They were open just ever so slightly, allowing her to see the waiting crowd beyond the doorway. Kastytis stood off to the side of the doors, waiting on his empress.

  “May the goddess of time guide my words,” Ausrine whispered. It would be foolish to keep them all waiting.

  Taking a steadying breath, Ausrine grabbed the edges of the doors in her armoured hands and thrust the doors wide open. The doors hit the walls with a resounding boom, silencing the room and drawing the gazes of all present in the room. As Ausrine strode into the room, she met their looks one by one. It was easy to take note of the divisions in this group of supposed equals. The various representatives of the high nobles stood on the right side of the room in several gathered bunches. Despite the lateness of the hour, they wore the formal retinue of their respective houses. Only one genuine member of the council of nobles was in attendance – the High Lord Nathair Spidersilk. Nathair was a shorter man but with broad shoulders. Balding early, he had shaved his pale head and took great pride in his salt and pepper beard. According to the empress’s informants, Nathair was a source of trouble and then some. Nathair’s family was a scheming bunch of murderers and plotters made rich from exporting silk. The spider was an excellent sigil for his house. The other council members were proxies, appointed by their representative house lord or lady.

  On the left side of the room stood the ambassadors for the elves and the dwarves. The dragonkin had subjugated their races into the empire by force like the humans. Few kingdoms could withstand assault even by a small number of the dragonkin. The elves and dwarves came to flourish under the watchful eye of the dragonkin, despite initial animosity that had lasted for thousands of years. The ambassadors were frequent allies for Ausrine’s reforms. While there was little that Ausrine could do to right the wrongs of her ancestors’ colonial past, she could acknowledge their atrocities. And she could do what she could to improve the lives of all races while respecting their cultures.

  In the center of the room stood the Lord General Blair of the Royal Army – a giant bear of a man. With the general stood Incinera, the Royal Magus. Incinera was a pest of unbelievable magnitude but commanded great magic to match the irritation he caused. High Cardinal Irving was standing next to Incinera. Irving was perhaps even worse than Lord Nathair in some ways – he found god in everything; therefore, everything was divine ordinance. Irving had protested every reform or change that Ausrine had put forth, saying that the changes were against the will of Dievas and the natural order. His sect worshipped Dievas, the leader of the Celestials and often called the god of magic and kings.

  Hidden deep within the room’s shadows stood the Lord Ulric Wolfsbane. The young lord stood in the back-left corner, and Ulric was partially obscured by a curtain in the corner of the room. Either Kastytis or Jurate must have fetched him first and ensured that he was well placed. His black skin was complemented by the silver wolves etched into his armour and white wool cape. He was a first-generation noble, granted a title for his deeds in combat.

  Ausrine halted a few steps into the room. Behind her, Kastytis and Jurate closed the doors to the Empress’s chamber. Ausrine knew it was time to walk a carefully thin line between truth and falsehood. The first battle in a war that would outlive her was about to begin.

  “Good evening to all of you,” Ausrine said. “I am glad that you were all able to make it despite the hour.”

  “Indeed, it is quite late but not late enough to prevent you from sending your thuggish soldiers to disturb us from our meals and businesses.” Nathair impatiently interjected. “An urgent meeting, bah, could we just get on with it? Some of us have more important things to be doing at this hour.”

  “You have more important things to be doing at this time than answering the summons of your Empress?” Blair demanded angrily, his dislike and displeasure for Nathair evident to all in the room. “Like traitorous dealings and treason?”

  “Silence your baseless accusations or find yourself answerable for your slanderous lies.” Nathair replied quietly. “The hour is late, I have yet to eat, and my hunger makes me impatient to return to my abode. Something I would have thought a mind as simple as yours would understand.”

  “Let it be you two,” Irving said as he tapped his staff on the floor, producing an unmistakable ringing thud. “Empress, perhaps you could outline why we are here? It may help to quell our irritation at this most unusual of summons.”

  “I would be happy to – I am not pleased about missing out on a meal any more than anyone else. An Empress must somehow fuel her strength or fail to serve her people effectively.” Ausrine grinned, leaving Nathair fuming in outrage.

  “Serve mere mortals?” Nathair said, anger tinging his words. “Finished lording your strength over us now? Finished dictating how we are to care for our lands and our people? I doubt it, unfit as you are to rule over us mere mortals, fed or unfed. How the mighty dragonkin have declined in the dotage of their bloodline. It would be better to appoint one of our kind to rule us.”

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  At his words, many of the proxies of the council of high nobles nodded. The rule of the dragonkin was not welcomed by the other races, least of all humans. With few of the dragonkin still living, Ausrine’s continued governance relied on the fear and respect most humans always carried for her kind. Despite Nathair’s thinly veiled treason, Ausrine did her best to remain unperturbed.

  Irving spoke up again, speaking calmly. “The rule of the Empress is ordained by the gods, and none may replace her, lest we anger the gods themselves. Let us cease unnecessary discourse immediately and hear her out.”

  “Thank you, High Cardinal Irving,” Ausrine said graciously. “I have called you all here today to discuss a prophecy that has been given. That a new prophecy has been spoken is not unusual unto itself. The urgency arises from the focus this new prophecy has on my twins and because a relevant prophecy may also be applied.”

  Alafeikra, the elven ambassador, looked up sharply. “Which prophecy do you mean?”

  Ausrine smiled slightly as the elven ambassador played his part to add merit to her cause. He would have heard the stories from his king. As a member of one of the longer-lived races, Alafeikra would be more familiar with lore and history than any present except Ausrine. The prophecy about the oracles’ death was once widely known, and the elves are much longer-lived than humans.

  Ausrine decided to get on with the telling quickly; a thorn hurts less when swiftly removed. Ausrine replied to the elf simply. “The oracle has died.”

  Gasps filled the room, and the council members could not help but allow their eyes to widen. Even Lord Nathair’s sullen mask seemed to crack a bit, albeit his eyes seemed to smile. The news was shocking – as well it should be since the oracle had been old when their great grandfathers had lived. Of those gathered to hear the story, only Irving seemed unmoved. The high cardinal had most likely accepted it immediately as the will of the gods.

  “What prediction did she make regarding the twins before her death?” Irving asked calmly as the others reeled from the news. “And, what of is this about another related prophecy?”

  Alafeikra said, “I believe the related prophecy is simple and connected with the death of the oracle. While I cannot recall the exact wording, I believe the prediction went something like this.”

  The birth of dragons was a wonder,

  As the world was torn asunder,

  Only the guardian can partake,

  In power the gods themselves forsake.

  When the blood splits,

  Even more shall be spilled,

  The ground will drown,

  And all for a crown.

  The blade forged in the light,

  Tainted by the demons’ blight,

  By the hand of darkness,

  The gods are heartless.

  Time itself shall be sundered,

  In the darkness the void hungered,

  They gaze into the vortex of time,

  Their eyes forever wrapped in the nighttime.

  Alafeikra looked upon Ausrine seeking affirmation of his guess in her eyes. “Is my guess correct, my Empress? My king has always believed the final line related to the Oracle’s ability to see the future.”

  “Not quite the right words, perhaps, but the meaning is still there,” Ausrine told him with a smile. The words were hauntingly close to the truth of the new prophecy, wherein lay their danger.

  “What is the meaning of those words, precisely?” Irving asked quietly. “Prophecies are notoriously difficult to interpret to begin with due to the shifting nature of the future. Even in their giving, they shift the future direction of our lives, sometimes driving folks into madness.”

  Ausrine glanced at the various individuals scattered around the room. The room reeked of their uncertainty, worry, and fear. Knowing what was to come could cause problems with some of the council. Lord Nathair already looked hopeful. “That particular prophecy was labelled ‘The Death of the Dragon’. It is not one of my favourite predictions for obvious reasons. Its meaning has been pondered several times over the past eleven thousand years. Unfortunately for my predecessors and me, the meaning of that prophecy has always been clear to us. The Oracle will die when dragonkin twins are born within the royal family, splitting the blood. Her death shall herald the end of the dragonkin rulership. Her death is an advent of war. We can assume war is coming.”

  “And do not worry, it gets better,” Ausrine tells them gaily as Lord Nathair’s face lights up at the thought of her death. “There is more, aside from this being a sign of my impending death and defeat. We managed to secure a final prophecy regarding my children before her death. One of my royal guards was attending her when the oracle was murdered. He managed to record her final prophecy.”

  Everyone in the room held their breath, caught up in the web of suspense and eager to hear any guidance that a prophecy might provide. The actual warning must remain lost to the sands of time to preserve the twins’ lives. Ausrine needed to weave a simple yet effective false prophecy with hints of the truth within it. With everyone intent on her words, Ausrine recited a short false prophecy:

  Death walks the land of the living,

  Darkness yet unforgiving,

  The line of the dragons is ending,

  Its blood spent past saving.

  The last drops of the blood,

  Torn asunder by a grudge,

  Bonds anew shall be forged,

  But life itself shall be scorned.

  Silence echoed back at her at the end of her recital. The range of emotion displayed by the council was intensely varied. About half of the councillors seemed nervous; a few seemed perturbed but interested in the puzzle. Nathair was lost in thought.

  Irving was the most clearly disturbed by the news. He sank to his knees and placed his head in his hands as he considered the impacts and implications of the dragonkin’s imminent demise. Blair reached forward and lay a supportive hand on Irvings’ shoulder – it was difficult to tell who was shaking more, and the cardinal was nigh on trembling.

  Ausrine smiled and spoke quietly to the group. “I hope that this news does not shake your faith in my rule – I do not plan on faltering until I breathe my last on the field of battle.”

  Irving whispered a reply, too quietly for anyone to hear except Ausrine. “I will not falter in my faith, young Empress. I am shaken and crushed by this doom upon you, and I shall soon fear for the future of this kingdom should the wrong high noble claim your throne.”

  Ausrine was visibly relieved and heartened by Irving’s response. Irving had been ruthlessly opposed to the Empress’s motions and advancements throughout his career as the high cardinal of the realm. Her dedication to educating the general masses had been taken unfavourably. Educating the farmers and the labourers was considered bad for the sanctity of the upper class. Irving had preached that reading and writing were harmful to the people's faith. Nathair had joined Irving in his cause, maintaining that education was a tool for the upper class alone. Educating the lower classes would cause issues and rebellions. Pushing schooling had been a hard-won battle for the Ausrine, with all the council of nobles against the policy. It was only through a proof of concept demonstration that the procedure became adopted. Lord Ulric rolled out the reforms in his lands. The increased knowledge had a massive impact on the region’s productivity, fueling an enormous increase in wealth for his population. Surprisingly, more peasants went to church than ever before. They tended to donate more of their income to charitable causes.

  The silence in the room was palpable and growing tense with a tinge of despair. The Empress stepped forward to draw Irving’s hands into her own and helped him up from his knees. Ausrine spoke loudly in the silence, aiming to end the audience. “I think that we should reconvene tomorrow to continue this discussion after it sinks in, or perhaps the day after. This is a lot for us all to digest.”

  Lord Nathair rallied to the chance to escape from the room and begin spinning his webs around Ausrine’s potential death. He spoke first. “I agree with Empress Ausrine. Thank you, my Empress, for quickly delivering the information regarding your fate – you have given us much to consider. If I may be so bold, then I would suggest waiting three days before reconvening.”

  “Why?” Ausrine asked.

  “Three days should barely give enough time for the appointed proxies and their governing nobles to settle on a position. That is the fasted they can get word back and forth, even using magic and messenger relays to deliver the messages. The dwarven and elven ambassadors will also need time to communicate with their kings.” Nathair said. “Such communication is necessary to obtain the opinions of those absent from the capitol.”

  Ausrine translated his words internally. Nathair probably did not honestly care about the proxies ensuring that they would act as their lords and ladies. After all, he was a higher-ranked lord and would directly influence the decisions made in the coming days. He wanted time to persuade the lords or their proxies toward the resolution that he wanted to propose.

  It did not matter – Nathair was right. The council deserved time to communicate and recover from the surprise of the announcement. “As you suggest then, Lord Nathair. We will plan to reconvene at noon three days from now.”

  The high council members murmured their thanks quietly and made a slow dash for the exit. Most were undoubtedly heading to their chambers to document this meeting while the session was fresh in their minds and to prepare missives for their masters. Lord Nathair nearly pranced from the room, barely containing his excitement behind a calm demeanour. He had left with a purpose-filled skip to his step, which was concerning. Irving stumbled from the room, whispering prayers to his gods.

  Soon the only ones who remained in the audience chamber with the Empress were a chosen few. This included Alafeikra, the elven ambassador, Gressica, the dwarven ambassador, Lord General Blair, Lord Ulric, Kastytis, and Jurate. Lord Ulric finally stirred from the shadows and closed the doors to the room once more. Ausrine twirled her hand in a speedy arcane motion. With no discernable effort, seven chairs were conjured forth from the nether. Everyone, even Kastytis and Jurate, grabbed one of the chairs.

  “Beware the shifting rock, for within its movements lie your destructions,” Gressica said, speaking for the first time in the evening. Her gravelly voice sounded like a rockslide in the quiet stillness of the room.

  With everyone seated, Alafeikra spoke quietly. “Not to jump into the fire, but what is your plan, Ausrine?”

  “And tell us where we fit in with your plans if you do not mind,” Gressica added, smiling.

  Ausrine’s laughter, clear as a bell, echoed throughout the room. It felt good to be amongst individuals who could be dealt with in honesty and lack of pretense. “I do not mind, actually. I did not tell the council the true prophecy – I could not risk one of them being a traitor. This group I trust implicitly, and I know you will aid me in my wish.”

  They waited patiently for more, and she did not make them wait long. “The prophecy – the true prophecy, that is – means that demonic influence remains a threat to our civilizations. A demon, probably an archdemon, still lives. That demon will probably kill me. I will do what I must to ensure my children’s survival – but they will be somehow separated. The latest prophecy implies that my children will be like a light in the darkness to combat the demonic threat. The war will be long and bloody. Success is not guaranteed. It sounded like they will need allies to help them overcome their foes.”

  “Then allies they shall have,” Gressica said. “Alafeikra and I will return to our people and prepare them for the coming darkness. Our kings will be able to withdraw our people into our respective borders for the safety of our people. It will put us in a good position to defend ourselves from attack.”

  “You are suggesting that we abandon Ausrine entirely?” Alafeikra demanded of Gressica.

  “Yes,” Ausrine said, interrupting Gressica’s response. “I will die. Those of the dragonkin will follow; they will be hunted down and eliminated by the demons or those who worship the void. So, it makes sense to alert your people to be safely away. And I have a request that I would like you to carry to your kings.”

  Gressica looked at Ausrine closely. “What request do you have for my king?”

  Ausrine hesitated, unsure of what exactly she wanted to request quite yet. “If my twins survive, I would appreciate it if your people would extend a hand to them in friendship.”

  Alafeikra and Gressica looked at each other. Alafeikra spoke slowly. “Highness, we would never turn your children away. With the kindness that you have shown us, our people will likely defend their lives. Even to the last of ours.”

  Gressica just nodded her agreement.

  Ausrine looked at Ulric. “If Ulric agrees, I will plan a mechanism to ensure the twins arrive in his territory. It is near to elven and dwarven sanctuaries.”

  Lord Ulric chimed in. “I will treat your children as if there are my own if the time comes, my Empress.”

  “Ulric, I…” Ausrine paused, feeling touched by Ulrics’ warm sentiment and support. “Thank you.”

  Blair stood and spoke confidently. “I will inform the guards to prepare more security for the castle and tell them that it is for practice drills. Perhaps I will even set up some traps. Just because something has been foretold does not mean it will come to pass.”

  ***

  Nathair fled the castle immediately after Ausrine’s gathering for his villa in the surrounding city. He sported a cruel smile as he paced around his moderately sized accommodations. The conditions were nearly ideal for him to make a move against Ausrine’s rule. Her allies were weakened, the oracle was dead, and her strength was faltering. For the first time in the long history of dragonkin dominance, a chance existed for a new bloodline to take over the empire’s rule. Nathair could see the shadows moving in a mirror out of the corner of his eye. His associate was stirring from its watchful slumber. Slowly the dark mist seems to take form and separate from the shadowy haze of the wall. Haze took shape as the archdemon took formed in the mirror. Nathair turned around to speak with this treacherous ally of his news.

  As Nathair met the archdemon’s gaze, he trembled. Even as a high lord with a sizeable army at his back, he could not help but be nervous. As the shadows thicken around the archdemon, it stepped forth from the mirror, its massive size and sheer strength becoming brutally apparent. The archdemon would stand head and shoulders above a very tall man and was draped in heavy grey robes. Arcane symbols appeared to wink in and out of existence along the garment. A pair of leathery grey wings protruded from its back that emitted barely visible purple flames. Its’ exposed flesh was cracked and blackened, with a purplish flesh visible beneath the cracks. The cracks seemed intentionally formed through protracted rituals.

  “Mincatu.” Nathair acknowledged the archdemon’s presence politely. “How are you finding your accommodations?”

  The archdemon’s voice echoed sibilantly around the room, its lips curled upwards in a semblance of a smile, exposing several large mandibles. “It is tolerable, but the nearness to the empress is causing my skin to itch.”

  “I may have good news on that front.” Nathair said, his voice tinged with a touch of nervousness. He understood that the archdemon could kill him accidentally with a mere twitch. “I have just returned from an emergency meeting that the Empress summoned.”

  Mincatu nodded. “I heard the dragonkin messenger summon you earlier. And the racket of your retinue returning a short while ago. My hearing is quite good. What was the messenger’s name?”

  “Kastytis, one of Ausrine’s bodyguards and a commanding member of the royal guard.” Nathair answered. “He has inherited some of the dragonkin bloodlines but very little. His blood runs thin, and the dragonkin influence wanes.”

  Mincatu stretched its arms, flexing the muscles. “Does he suspect my presence? He seemed perceptive and on edge while he was here and unusually sensitive to the taint that my kind leaves. Or perhaps he just hates you?”

  “Likely a bit of both. Kastytis dislikes my opposition to his beloved empress. He would likely infer from his discomfort here that I was up to something.” Nathair said. “However, I doubt that he could imagine in his darkest dreams that you would be here.”

  “He was likely exposed to one of my kind before, though, Kelth’aziar, the winter wolf sent to misdirect Ausrine by my servant Bicarous,” Mincatu seemed to reflect upon this. “We should be wary against his interference, even if he is a weakling. Ausrine is my prey. What did the girl want tonight? Is she weary of your treachery?”

  “Weary? Undoubtedly.” Nathair replied. “She summoned all of her advisors to announce the death of the oracle and to make us aware of the related prophecies. I think that she had wanted to have them summon additional forces to shore up her army as a contingency plan. Still, I have delayed her wishes by asking for the representatives to have a few days to share her news with their lords.”

  “A wise ploy. It will perhaps buy us the time we need to end Ausrine before help can arrive. She will die, her head will be ripped from her body, and her corpse will be defiled and desecrated.” Mincatu said, mandibles chattering. “Which prophecy did she discuss with the council?”

  “There were two prophecies discussed. The first had to do with the oracle’s death – supposedly, her death marks the end of the dragonkin’s rule.” Even now, the thought of Ausrine’s death brought a smile to Nathair’s face. “The second was regarding her twins, implying that they would survive her death and help prevent the death and darkness that would come.”

  Mincatu seemed to muse this over for many moments. “I am glad the Oracle is finally dead – I tried to kill her once but failed. I will need to thank Shacharka for her excellent results. The Oracles’ foresight would have made her a formidable opponent. With her out of the way, a major hurdle has been overcome with no effort on our part. Regarding the second part, though….”

  That pause continued for what seemed like an eternity as Mincatu sifted through Nathairs’ memory telepathically before he continued. “It seems from what you remember of the second prophecy that they know that a denizen of the void realm walks the land openly once more. Therefore, they know what if not who will attack them.”

  “Perhaps we should guard against any contingencies. I would like to propose something.” Nathair said, preparing his dangerous gambit. An archdemon walking the land with no partner is supposedly easier to kill, likened to a wild and feral beast. This changes if a pact is formed, where a demon is bonded to a mortal partner. This would grant both parties significant benefits – if Nathair died, Mincatu would be banished back into the void by his death, resulting in the need for Mincatu to ensure protection for Nathair. For Mincatu, the pact would ensure that neither death nor banishment would end him. And Nathair had heard whispers that depending on the true strength of the archdemon, other perks may be available. “Will you forge a pact with me? If my understanding of your kind is correct, a pact will guard our plans if our assault fails.”

  Mincatu laughed, a sinister hackle. Purple flames seeped out of the cracks in his skin in rhythm with his laughter. “You are right – a pact would prevent my death if we fail to assassinate the girl and shield you from me in the future if your bid for the crown succeeds. Shield only, not prevent you from feeling my wrath or displeasure. Unlike a lower-class demon, I can survive your death if I need to, and your pain is nothing to me.”

  Mincatu made a jagged cut across his left hand using a finger, drawing forth a rotten smell and blackened blood. The blood welled from the gash, pooling in the archdemon’s hand. Slowly Mincatu extended his hand toward Nathair.

  Mincatu spoke slowly. “Nathair. Drink deeply of this offering that I make to you. Together we shall work to purge the dragonkin from existence. Your goals shall be mine, as shall your life. I offer to empower you and aid you in forging your destiny. Drink of my blood and let my taint into your soul.”

  Nathair did not hesitate to drink Mincatu’s wretched blood – he knew to pause would be to die. The archdemon’s blood tasted fouler than foul as Nathair drank deeply. He swallowed, taking in three large gulps. Nathair felt a sensation colder than ice and yet hotter than fire spread throughout his body as he stood back. He fell to the ground, writhing, while Mincatu laughed.

  Nathair spasmed on the floor for several minutes that stretched into hours, pain wracking his body. As the pain faded, Nathair felt different. Physically stronger but also sharper of mind. As he moved from the floor to stand again, he saw Mincatu leaning against the wall – waiting and observing for his reaction. Nathair realized that he could sense the presence of the archdemon and its intent. Nathair looked at himself in the mirror and let out a gasp. His body had been transformed. The lines of age were smoothed out from his skin. The colour and thickness of his hair had been restored as well. But the most striking change was his eyes. The irises of Nathair’s eyes had changed from a crystal blue to a light purple, with his pupils being a blackish purple.

  Meeting Nathair’s eyes, Mincatu grinned. “Take your time to discover your newfound powers. You have a unique skill to master. If your soldiers drink your blood, they will become tainted and bound to your will. You will be able to control them as you will it.”

  A nasty smile emerged on Nathair’s face as he realized what Mincatu meant. He wiped his face clear of remnants of vomit and spit. It was time to begin his ascent to the throne, and a few loyal soldiers would help it start off right.

  ***

  It had been two days since Ausrine had first learned of the oracle’s death and prophecies. Two days since, the council of nobles had been informed of her fate and given time to reach out to their lords for guidance. They were a noncommittal bunch, asking for more time and inventing delays for creating a robust contingency plan. Ausrine sighed as she ate lunch with her kids, Cortana, Blair, and her bodyguards. Even watching Kruonis throw pickles and cheese at his sister with magic could do nothing to improve her mood. His natural talent for magic was beyond even the legends of the strongest dragonkin mages.

  They could not be more different. Kruonis inherited the dragonkin bloodline and showed astonishing mastery over his innate gifts. He was a kind yet mischievous child, willing to break any rule to get what he wanted. There seemed to be no limit to his combat potential. Kruonai had none of the dragonkin blood and was an average human child with gorgeous golden blonde hair and a keen mind. She was a tactician, always looking to negotiate a resolution in her favour. A stern and stubborn child, she would make an excellent leader and advisor when Kruonis took the throne.

  Kruonis concerned her with the rapid development of his skills. With his magic and strength, he could already defeat most guards and mages in the training yard. The kid could fly, breathe fire, and hold his breath for several minutes underwater. Ausrine had never had this kind of raw talent or power growing up; as far as she knew, none of the dragonkin before her had either. He might grow to have a power that would rival a god. She pondered if he was what the dragonkin of old always sought to be – a dragonoid. Like most young dragonkin, he looked wholely human.

  Blair waved at her, trying to get her attention. Ausrine summoned up an apologetic grin and spoke. “Sorry, my mind wandered.”

  “I serve at your leisure, my empress,” Blair said, his lips twitching with amusement. “I was asking if you had a word of any reinforcements from the noble houses.”

  “Not yet,” Ausrine said. “I think they are going to try to wait it out.”

  “It makes sense, I suppose,” Blair said. “If you are doomed to die, why should they waste the lives of their soldiers when they may be needed more in the aftermath or protect their domains?”

  “You are a ray of sunshine today,” Ausrine said, grinning to remove any sting caused by her sarcasm. “Ulric has about two weeks still to travel with hard riding. Caroline will be glad to have him home. She has never cared much for me, nor the time he spends here.”

  “Can you blame her?” Blair asked.

  “No, I suppose not,” Ausrine said. “It is unfortunate that the two are married. She is the wild card in my plan – I do not know how she will react to hiding my children.”

  “I do not envy Ulric,” Blair said. “Caroline will skewer him for endangering their children.”

  “I heard from Kastytis that Caroline gave birth to a healthy daughter just before my summons reached them. Ulric barely had time to name the girl before my summons arrived.” Ausrine said. She turned to Kastytis. “What did you say they named the girl?”

  “Zaria,” Kastytis said.

  Ausrine laughed. “That must have ticked off Caroline! It is a beautiful name, though.”

  “I believe that Caroline named their firstborn,” Blair said. “Felix?”

  “Right!” Ausrine said. “Felix and Zaria. I wonder if they will risk having another child?”

  “Quiet.” Cortana’s voice cut through their conversation. “Something is wrong.”

  The room fell silent, listening hard for whatever had caught Cortana’s attention. The maids’ hearing was sharp. It was minutes before anyone else could hear the shouting. Something had roused the palace guards.

  “Blair, go to your men,” Ausrine ordered. “Kastytis, Jurate. Guard the door against intruders. Cortana, take this token – if anything happens here, break it in half.”

  “Empress.” They all acknowledged her instructions and moved to carry them out without hesitation. Ausrine could see soldiers greeting Blair in the hall as the doors to the chamber closed. She closed her eyes and took a steadying breath. With her eyes closed, she could hear soldiers screaming as they encountered the intruder.

  “It is going to be an archdemon,” Ausrine said. She looked sadly at the twins before glancing out the window. “At least it is a good day to die.”

  “Do not speak like that.” Cortana chided. “Get your armour on and kill it. I will help you rip it limb from limb.”

  “No, you are needed here with them,” Ausrine said, indicating the twins. “Besides, my people would panic further if you fought in your true form.”

  Cortana sighed. “This is how prophecies become self-fulfilled.”

  “Even so,” Ausrine said with a sad smile. “Keep them safe.”

  Ausrine donned her heavy plate armour, unabashedly changing in front of her guards. Both Kastytis and Jurate adverted their gaze as Ausrine changed. Once she was done, Ausrine headed out onto the balcony, where the sound of combat had become a loud ruckus. She could see Blair and a squadron of guards tossed aside by the archdemon and slaughtered by possessed soldiers in the courtyard below. The archdemon looked up and met Ausrine’s eyes.

  Ausrine gasped. “Mincatu.”

  “What?” Cortana asked.

  “The archdemon Mincatu is leading this attack,” Ausrine said blandly. Her hands trembled. “He is a cunning and stealthy hunter but averse to risk. He has always been quick to retreat to safety. I have faced him before; he always takes refuge in the shadows using void magic.”

  Ausrine looked back at the courtyard just in time to witness Mincatu surging towards Blair. The archdemon batted aside Blair’s defence and ripped the man in half, his entrails scattering across the courtyard. Blair screamed and thrashed as he died from the grievous wound.

  “No.” The words fell from Ausrine’s lips. Shock and white-hot rage warred within Ausrine as she stood there, witness to the death of an old friend. With the possessed soldiers in pursuit, the remaining castle guards scattered with Blair’s death. Mincatu looked up at where she was standing and laughed. A few of the possessed soldiers remained nearby, guarding him.

  Ausrine leaped from the balcony with her sword unsheathed, hair glowing as her draconic fury burst free of her restraint. Neither Kastytis nor Jurate could move from their place guarding the doorway as Ausrine hurtled to the ground like a meteor, cracking the elaborate stone pathways with her weight. Ausrine charged into combat, wind magic extending the reach of her blade as she slashed horizontally, cutting down Mincatu’s tainted soldiers as if they were toy soldiers.

  “I will end you, Mincatu!” Ausrine snarled, pressing forward with unbound rage powering her ferocious strikes.

  The archdemon was immediately put on the defensive, with Mincatu struggling to stop the dragonkin empress’s advance. As he attempted to meet her empowered blows, Mincatu grimly realized he may have grossly miscalculated.

  ***

  Cortana left the twins with their lunch to ensure that the empress had survived the fall, with Kastytis joining her. Jurate continued to nervously guard the doorway on his own.

  “How is she?” Jurate asked them.

  “She has engaged the demon,” Kastytis reported. “Looks like she slaughtered possessed soldiers that had accompanied it.”

  “Mincatu looks hard-pressed to stop her advance,” Cortana said.

  Kruonis approached them, nibbling on some cheese, to look through the balcony railing at his mother. Cortana put a steadying hand on his shoulder. The young boy’s keen eyes watched as Ausrine struck at the demon’s defences repeatedly.

  “Why is mother striking that thing so aggressively?” Kruonis asked.

  “It is here to kill her and us,” Kastytis said.

  “I get that,” Kruonis said. “But wrapping herself in light magic would be a better counter to the demon than wind magic enhancing her blade?”

  “Mother cannot use light magic, dummy,” Kruonai informed him, joining Kruonis at Cortana’s side.

  “Her power has always been more in her physical strength,” Cortana added, looking at Kruonis. “Your mom has an elemental affinity for wind magic, so she typically uses that in combat.”

  “It has good alignment in melee combat,” Kruonai said, biting into a pickle.

  “What do you mean?” Kastytis asked.

  “Wind magic has direct uses for offence and defence,” Kruonai explained. “She can use it to extend her blade's reach and increase the cutting power of each strike. Defensively, she can nudge the opponents’ strikes to prevent them from reaching her, slow down their blows with wind pressure, or use it as a shield wall.”

  “Excellent tactics,” Cortana said. “You will make a good warrior or mage one day.”

  “I did not know that wind magic was so useful!” Kruonis said.

  “That’s because you just use it to fly,” Kruonai said, scowling. “I wish I could fly.”

  The ancient oak doors next to Jurate suddenly cracked and splintered, exploding inwards in a deadly hail of wooden shards. Cortana incinerated the threat with a fiery breath, creating a constrained firestorm where the door once stood.

  As the remains of the door burned to ash, Jurate darted to block entry, but he was too slow. An assassin dressed in black robes had flashed past and ran towards Kruonai at full speed, a sinister dagger leading.

  There was no time to hesitate. Cortana snapped the token in two – and everything went white as its magic whisked the five of them away.

  ***

  Mincatu had leaped backward, trying to jump onto the courtyard wall to escape Ausrine’s onslaught. He was glad of his deal with Nathair just then, knowing that even if the empress killed him, he would endure the death to live another day.

  Blade leading, Ausrine propelled herself upwards. She would be damned if she let the archdemon escape. Her sword sought Mincatu’s demonic core. As her sword began to pierce his chest, Ausrine felt a hefty blow from all angles; the strike winded her, dimming her vision as if a grey fog covered everything. Despite the strength of her vicious onslaught a mere moment ago, now her power had abandoned her to fate.

  Then the realization hit her – Cortana must have used the ensorcelled token she had been given to magically translocate herself and the twins.

  “Live well,” Ausrine whispered as she weakly collided with Mincatu, his mandibles seeking her throat.

  ***

  As Mincatu decapitated Ausrine, Nathair could feel the archdemon’s euphoria. He had his sword drawn, bare steel glimmering in the flickering light of the hallway. Nathair’s blade did not tremble with unbridled fear, unlike the lesser nobles accompanying him.

  As Mincatu hacked and desecrated Ausrine’s corpse with glee, Nathair ran forward to challenge the archdemon. As he approached, Mincatu spun around in fake surprise, hissing. Nathair stuck at Mincatu, his blade appearing to pierce through the archdemon’s form with ease. Mincatu let loose a horrific shriek, summoning purple flames to blind onlookers and incinerate the empress’s corpse. He faded into Nathair’s shadow, safely hidden from view as the purple fires spluttered out and the smoke wafted away on the breeze.

  A dark smile crossed Nathair’s face as the lords and soldiers kneeled before him one by one. Kneeled to their saviour standing over the ashen remains of their dead empress.