 
## SOLDIERS OF LEGEND

_____________________________________

### AIELUND SAGA : Book 4

### STEPHEN L. NOWLAND

### Smashwords edition

Copyright 2013-2019 Stephen Louis Nowland

### 2019 Final Edition

Map Illustration by Cornelia Yoder

http://www.corneliayoder.com

The Author asserts the moral right to be

identified as the author of this work.

Table of Contents

World Map

Local Map

Prelude

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Epilogue

About the Author

Prelude

Fairloch may have been a city obsessed with appearances during the day, but at night, a portion of the population kicked off their boots and lived it up. One such establishment in the docklands was the Singing Siren, the favoured drinking hole for some of the less reputable types in the city, an old building with lots of "character" that appeared as though it could collapse at any moment. None of its patrons cared though, for to them, it was a home away from home.

It was particularly busy that evening as the first signs of spring started to appear, and plenty of people needed only the flimsiest of excuses to have a drink or five. The noise within the dingy tavern was a dull roar in the background to one of its patrons, a mixture of drunken revelry and the occasional fight between rowdy thugs who were too drunk to remember what they were fighting about. Regardless, everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves save for one man, who drank for entirely different reasons.

Sitting at the bar was Pacian Savidge, his blond hair cropped and the faint trace of beard stubble along his jaw. He huddled down in his dark longcoat, clutching onto an ale mug with both hands, almost oblivious to the commotion around him. The common room, lit by dim lanterns and warm fireplaces was starting to spin and his sight was blurry, yet for all the ale he'd drank that evening, it still wasn't quite enough to dull the pain.

Pacian quaffed the rest of his mug of cheap ale and slammed it down on the bar in front of him, accidentally knocking a glass onto the floor where it smashed into a hundred pieces. He peered down at the sodden mess with mild interest, and then looked at the huge, outraged man who's drink had been spilled. His dark hairline was receding and he appeared to be trying to make up for it by growing the biggest beard he could, which appeared not unlike a small shrubbery attached to his face.

"You better replace that you little bastard, or I'll put your face through the wall," the oaf growled at Pacian, standing to bring his impressive mix of muscle and fat into full view. It was a move designed to intimidate, and for most people it would have worked. Pacian's expression darkened as he glared at the man, a look that said 'I've killed before and I'll do it again right now if I have to.'

"The thing about drinking in a place like this," Pacian slurred as he watched the oaf without blinking, "is you don't really know who you're going to run into." He opened one side of his longcoat to reveal four large knives strapped to belts around his torso. The big man's eyes locked onto the gleaming blades and knew he'd made a mistake. He swallowed hard and took an involuntary step backwards.

"Never mind," he muttered, suddenly making a break for it by disappearing into the crowd. Pacian closed his coat before anyone else noticed his personal arsenal and, forgetting the encounter almost immediately, lifted his mug only to recall that it was empty.

"Another," he muttered at the bartender, a tough-looking tattooed woman with dark hair tied back in a tail, who eyed her dangerous-looking customer warily. She seemed to hesitate for a moment before pouring more ale into the empty mug. Pacian watched until it was full, trying to keep his mind still until he could drown memories lying just below the surface with another round of ale. It didn't work. The faces of those he'd killed boiled up from his subconscious, almost as if they'd come to life and were standing before him to cast judgment.

Pacian gasped and quickly gulped down his drink, continuing until his nerves finally settled down again. He wiped away foam with the back of his hand and belched, then grasped the counter before him to steady himself.

"You right there, mate?" the bartender named Cait asked in a voice made husky from long years of yelling over the crowd noise. Although she was concerned, Pacian noticed her hand didn't stray far from the handle of a hefty club behind the counter.

"Doing fine, Cait," he slurred in response, suddenly finding the woman captivating in a rough sort of way. "Fought some monsters, both living _and_ dead recently. They both smelled pretty bad, mind you, sometimes it's hard to tell the difference. Then I spent a week at the Isle of the Dead, the last place I wanted to go. Have you heard of that place? Bloody awful. Bones and rotting flesh up to my knees. I wouldn't have bothered but Nellise insisted on sanctifying the wretched place. I couldn't let her go by herself. She's too good for this world, you know what I mean?"

"Well, at least you've got someone you care about," the bartender offered mildly. "I hope she feels the same way about you."

"More, much more," Pacian slurred, though his tone was far less enthusiastic than his words. "I know things she doesn't. Secrets, bloody horrible secrets I can never tell. But it's nice to have a warm bed to go home to... if I can face her."

"Can't help you there, friend," Cait said with a shrug. "Maybe you should–"

"But then she had to bring the body of her hero from the Isle as well," Pacian went on before Cait could finish. "She couldn't leave that behind, oh no. The whole place is a graveyard and she couldn't just leave him be. I think they had a bit of a thing for each other," he added in a conspiratorial voice. "Poncy git, even in death."

"Wait, did you have something to do with that ruckus at the castle a few weeks back?" she asked curiously.

"Yeah, now _they_ were some bad people," Pacian answered, sloshing his mug around with abandon. "Proper bastards with connections high-up, so you _know_ they weren't going to see any jail time. But don't worry, I took care of it. They're all dead now."

"So, this is you celebrating?" Cait remarked as she absently mopped up spilled ale from Pacian's mug with a cloth. "I'd hate to see you on a bad day."

"I've had some bad days," Pacian muttered to himself, nursing his mug with both hands, much to the relief of the bartender. "So did some of my mates. Gone now, all gone and it's my fault." He went silent for a moment as he struggled to contain his feelings of guilt, then buried them under another flood of ale.

"I lost my hubby in the war recently," Cait confided in a measured voice, the first time in weeks of drinking at this tavern that she'd spoken to Pacian about her personal life. "He was a tough bastard and a bit rough on me at times, but I was a wreck for a week when I got the message that he was dead. Still, life goes on, you know? It gets easier over time, but they'll always be with you." At this, Pacian clutched his head and moaned, seeing again the faces of those who died by his hand. Their accusing eyes stared at him, wracking him with guilt and shame, two feelings foreign to Pacian prior to the last month.

"Alright, I think you've had enough for the night, hero," Cait advised, taking the mug away and standing there with her hands on her hips, in no mood for any backtalk. "You're in a bit of a state, so go sleep it off. But pay me first, or we're going to have a problem."

"I'm fine, it's fine," Pacian rasped as he got control of himself, then tossed a small pouch of coins onto the counter, a pile of silver worth ten times what he'd drunk that night. "Keep the change."

"Mate, you can drink here anytime you like," Cait responded in surprise after she snatched up the pouch and checked its weight. "You have yourself a good night."

Pacian mumbled something unintelligible while he tried to get off the bar stool without toppling over. Eventually, his feet seemed able to support his weight and he carefully weaved his way through the throng towards the door. It was late in the season with spring just around the corner, but it was still a shock to his senses when Pacian stepped from the warmth of the tavern into the bitter conditions outside.

The freezing wind whipped his longcoat about as he stood there, swaying slightly as he tried to figure out which way to go. Around here somewhere was the stable where his horse was waiting for hom, but it would take a couple of hours to reach the property bequeathed to Nellise outside of the city. Though he yearned to fall asleep under her blankets, Pacian was in no condition to ride there tonight.

He opted to get a room at a nearby inn, but the one across the road from the Singing Siren was a dingy place Pacian wouldn't go near even when he was this drunk. He recalled something better a few blocks away so he started heading in that direction, carefully placing one foot in front of the other as he staggered along the snow-covered streets of Fairloch.

A thought occurred to him less than a minute later, and after pausing for a moment to consider this thought, he realised that yes, he did indeed need to throw up. Pacian turned a corner into an alleyway and purged most of the ale he'd downed in the last hour. Afterward, he was feeling a little better and as he was wiping his mouth, he felt something smash into the side of his head, shoving him against the alley wall before he fell to the ground.

He shook his head to try and clear it, but failed to see the kick coming to his stomach. He doubled over and coughed, struggling for breath, yet fully aware his assailant was standing right next to him. Pacian felt someone grab his hair and pull his face up and peered up at three men standing over him.

"Yeah that's the one," said a familiar deep voice, the man from the tavern who he'd threatened after spilling his drink. Apparently it was payback time, and judging by the company he was keeping, the thug was part of a larger gang. There wasn't much light to see by, but his two friends were almost as big as he was, dressed in thick clothing to keep the winter chill at bay with the lint of metal suggesting each of them was armed.

"You're in the wrong part of town, mate," the bearded thug said, coming in closer to look Pacian right in the eye. "Nobody threatens us, least of all some scrawny drunk carrying too many knives. In fact, they looked pretty dangerous, so we'll just take 'em off you before you hurt yourself."

"Yeah, that's our job," one of the others laughed. The lead man reached for the knives under Pacian's coat while he writhed around in the snow, still trying to recover from the surprise assault. At least, that's how it appeared to them. As soon as the thug's hand grasped the hilt of a knife, Pacian dropped the act, rolled over and drew his shining vythiric dagger in the same motion.

Pacian then rolled back and stabbed down hard, driving the tip through the thug's foot. He howled in agony, which went up an octave when Pacian kicked upward into the man's groin. While he stumbled to one side, Pacian flipped back onto his feet on one quick motion and lashed out with his weapon, sinking his deadly blade into the second thug's chest.

Blood gushed out, staining the snow as the man fell backwards in disbelief, which the third man drew his own weapon and slashed it back and forth at Pacian who had the reflexes of a cat who'd had too much to drink. It wasn't pretty, but he managed to avoid the blade twice before he met it with his own, slashing the thug's arm and forcing him to drop the weapon.

All three men were screaming in pain now, and Pacian survival instincts were fully in play. He lunged forward and shoved the third man to the ground, riding him down while stabbing him repeatedly in the chest. Pacian then rolled off his dying prey, then threw his weapon at the second man to make sure he wasn't going anywhere either. The weapon struck true, sending the man sprawling into the snow which was rapidly turned red.

With the fight all but over with, Pacian wobbled unsteadily over to the fallen man to retrieve his weapon, then turned to the bearded thug who started this whole thing. The man was struggling to stand on his injured foot, and clutched one hand protectively over his gentleman's area. He stared at Pacian in fear as the blond man slowly moved towards him.

"How?" the thug asked as Pacian brandished his dagger.

"How what?" Pacian slurred curiously, before figuring out what he was referring to. He reached down and lifted his tunic and shirt, to reveal leather armour protecting his upper body.

"I felt a bit of that kick, so it wasn't all an act," Pacian confided. "Wasn't enough to put me down properly though. Here, let me show you how it's done." With that, he drove his dagger into the man's gut, and then pulled it out and finished him off with a slash across his neck, sending blood spraying into the snow with his comrades. Pacian stood amidst the scene of carnage admiring his work, then looked at the dagger in his hand.

"Look what you did," he slurred to the weapon. "All of this, plus you stabbed a friend to death too? You're a treacherous backstabbing bastard, that's what. Nellise is too good for you. I'm gonna name you something, 'cause a betrayer like you needs a name. Yeah... that'll do." With that, he sheathed the weapon and arranged one of the bodies to lie upon the other so it looked like they fought each other to death.

Then he started climbing up the side of the alleyway, using its rough bricks to grasp hold of. This way, there would be no sign of anyone leaving the scene and would throw the authorities into confusion as to who was responsible.

As he climbed, he noticed that the chorus of the dead piling up in his mind just got a little bigger, and with it, he felt his soul shrivel a little more.

Prologue

Spring had finally arrived in Fairloch. Citizens of all parts of society celebrated the turning of the seasons with a festival held in the market district of the great city. The sound of the bustling streets could be heard throughout Fairloch, reminding those mired in more important tasks of what they were missing.

One such individual was the recently knighted Sir Aiden Wainwright, seated at a desk late one night, high up in the tower of the University of the Arcane. The sun had set hours earlier, and only now were the festivities winding down for the night. There would be plenty of hard work for the citizens in the coming days as many of them returned to the land to plant the next season of crops, but for now, they took the time to enjoy themselves.

Aiden looked wistfully out the window as another cheer went up, silently cursing the work that kept him away from such a pleasant diversion. For the past month, he and other select members of the faculty had worked tirelessly, searching for something they might have missed. So far, they had found no incantation or artifact that would be of use against the mysterious construct known as the Ironlord.

To make matters worse, they had very little information to go on regarding its strengths and weaknesses, for civilisations that had encountered the thing were invariably destroyed. Only Aiden's personal account, derived from the strange dreams communicated to him over and over again, gave them some idea of its capabilities. This information had been imparted via his link with the ancient dragon Salinder, the entity who had originally trapped the Ironlord on another plane of existence.

Aiden absently touched the crystalline sphere on the desk before him, silently wondering how his otherworldly contact was faring. Salinder was slowly dying, using his last reserves of strength to contain the Ironlord and buy them time. That time was slowly running out and they may only have weeks remaining.

Initially a font of knowledge, Salinder had been in communication with Aiden several times after the events in the castle led to the arrest of the man behind a massive conspiracy against the crown. The messages came less frequently as the weeks wore on, until they stopped completely. It had been six days since he had last been in contact with the dragon, and Aiden grew more anxious as the silence continued.

Setting down his quill, he rubbed his eyes as fatigue blurred the words on the page. Part of him knew it was a pointless exercise, yet Dean Foster had insisted they go over all of the available information once more. Aiden's report would show no new findings, leaving them exactly where they had started, minus several weeks of time. He still had dozens of pages to leaf through before he could call it a night, but couldn't resist the urge to close his eyes for a few moments.

When he opened them, the room around him had vanished and Aiden found himself sitting above a rough, rocky surface amidst a violet mist surging and swirling around him. He felt disembodied, as if he did not really have substance, but it was a pleasant feeling drifting in the cloud for a time.

A clap of thunder echoed across the landscape, and a flash of energy lit up the pocket of reality for a brief instant. The ground underneath shook briefly and Aiden knew there was something wrong. The surging mists began to part, revealing the enormous form of the dragon Salinder, nestled upon the ground in this otherworldly place.

Time had not been kind to the once magnificent creature, whose slack golden scales glimmered with only a hint of their former lustre. His wings had decayed to the point that he would never be able to fly again, and his eyes were cloudy, indicating he might not even be able to see with them any longer. In his recent communications, Aiden had witnessed the vain creature in all his glory, thanks to the enhanced dream-state of this method of communication. But here, now, he was laid bare in his true form.

Behind the immense bulk rose the gates of an ancient fortress, at the edge of the island amidst the Aether. Thick metal chains glowing with heat wrapped across the front of the gate, which relentlessly shuddered every few moments from some immense force. The nature of this force was known to Aiden, and a sudden fear gripped his heart as it dawned on him what was happening.

To his left, a shimmering visage of an armoured man materialised. Although translucent and ghost-like, it was not difficult to discern details of his appearance. His swept-back hair and short beard adorned more than one portrait in Fairloch's castle, and Aiden recognised him immediately as King Seamus Roebec, Criosa's father and sovereign ruler of Aielund.

He walked towards Salinder, whose serpentine neck lifted the great, tired head off the ground to meet the King's gaze of as he strode forward, heedless of the crackling of lightning and thunder around him. Both of them seemed oblivious to Aiden's presence, and try as he might, he could not utter a sound.

"Greetings, mighty Salinder," the King intoned with a deep voice made hollow by his ghostly nature. "I have arrived, as was requested."

Hail, King of Aielund, the dragon's voice spoke in their minds, still strong despite his physical appearance. Your timing is auspicious, for my passing is at hand. Within minutes, my burden will become yours.

"I am not certain there is anything we can do to stop it," the King said, his voice heavy with worry. "My forces are diminished from months of war, and even at the apex of my power I doubt it would have been enough to do more than hinder it."

All is not lost, Salinder counselled. My agents continue to pursue other options, but they need time. I have done all I can, and it now falls upon you to stave off oblivion. The King seemed to slump at this news, the weight upon his shoulders heavier with each moment.

"Is there nothing I can do to bolster your strength a while longer?" he asked.

There is not, Salinder replied simply. A moment of awkward silence passed between them before the King spoke once more.

"It seems hollow to thank you for your sacrifice, but I offer my gratitude nonetheless. I cannot apologise for the pact my grandfather forced upon you, but I take heart knowing that it was for the greater good."

Dwell not upon past events beyond your control, or understanding, Salinder advised. I have come to look upon my time here as penance for misdeeds, the magnitude of which you could not possibly fathom. The dragon shuddered suddenly, and his great head dipped toward the ground for a moment. The King seemed alarmed by this, but he didn't have time to dwell upon it as the chains behind them finally broke, and the gate exploded in a shower of wood and stone. Salinder growled as his incantations of binding were broken, but he found the strength to rise up and face what was to come.

From amidst the rubble emerged a towering figure. With each step, it crushed the shattered remains of the gate into dust. Already distressed by what he had witnessed, Aiden could only watch in silent terror as the monster from his old nightmares bore down on the withered dragon with cold, relentless purpose.

Its appearance had not changed at all since he had seen it within the dreams he shared with Salinder. The Ironlord was just over eight feet in height, and built as a caricature of an ancient warrior. Shoulders nearly six feet wide held arms sculpted like chiselled muscle, and its legs were as thick as tree trunks. In one hand it held a sword too large for any mortal to wield, and a subtle white radiance danced along the edge. Its head was sculpted like a gladiator's helm, and an amber glow shone where a man's eyes would have been.

Return from whence you came, King of Aielund! Salinder warned. The King was as transfixed by the sight of the metal warrior as Aiden was, and did not move.

"Long hast thy meddling intemperance stymied mine inevitable triumph," the deep, metallic voice of the Ironlord intoned as it stood in the shadow of the dragon. "Thine ruinous machinations are undone, wyrm." With that statement, it raised its free arm to point at Salinder and a brilliant lance of light shot forth, surging into the dragon's chest and searing the flesh within. A bellowing roar echoed across the Aether as Salinder was slain, the massive body of the creature plunging to the ground and cracking the earth beneath with the impact.

"No!" King Seamus cried, taking a step forward and drawing his sword. He seemed to be wrestling with something Aiden couldn't see, as if an invisible man was preventing him from rushing forward, and within a moment, his visage flashed and was gone.

Aiden, still within the dream-state, watched as the Ironlord stomped past the remains of Salinder and looked directly at him. Frozen with terror, he could only watch as it reached out for him.

Then, strange images, memories and thoughts he had never experienced flashed through his mind, and a feeling of rising heat enveloped his hands. His eye was caught by a glowing object in the dragon's claw, and saw the crystal sphere within blazing like the sun. The land around them started to break up as the distant storm swept over the small pocket of reality, shattering the ground and sweeping the crumbling remains into the maelstrom of the Aether.

The Ironlord hesitated as it reached for him, but its attention was caught by the surging storm and in a moment of decision, it turned and walked into the middle of it, falling through the ground that broke up beneath its heavy, sculpted boots. The memories and images in Aiden's mind built to a crescendo and he felt himself falling — only to abruptly awake at the desk in the university's tower.

He let out a brief cry of pain, for the crystal sphere underneath his left hand was white-hot and he instinctively dropped it from his burnt hand. His other hand was clutched tightly around the hilt of his ancient auldsteel blade, which he didn't recall drawing from its scabbard. Desmond rushed over at the commotion, his brown robe and long, flowing beard whipping behind him in his haste.

"Aiden, what in blazes just happened?" he asked. Overwhelmed at what he had just witnessed, Aiden simply stared back at the old man.

"He's gone," he whispered in disbelief, looking back at the crystal sphere which had a crack running right down the middle of it.

Chapter One

"Well, you have developed quite a talent for breaking precious artifacts, Aiden," Dean Desmond Foster said as he examined the cracked sphere on the table. "I'm sorry — Sir Aiden."

"It wasn't my fault this time, and I've asked you not to call me that," Aiden murmured, wrapping a bandage around his left hand. The burn wasn't too bad, though he'd be a bit tender for a few days. "It seems the Ironlord has broken free of Salinder's otherworldly cage, and that little pocket of reality fell apart upon his death. The link between the two spheres was active at the time, so I think that's what caused this one to break."

"If the other was destroyed, I believe the link would simply disappear," Desmond stated gruffly, unceremoniously dropping the crystal back onto the desk. "I will concede we don't know enough about these devices to state that with any degree of certainty. Are you alright?"

"Well enough, aside from my scalded hand," Aiden replied hazily. "The dream was a lot to take in." He fell silent for a long moment as the full impact of what he had witnessed sank in. Salinder hadn't been a friend, as such, but the connection they had shared had been important to Aiden nonetheless and he felt the loss keenly. "The damned thing is finally free. What are we going to do?"

"I haven't the slightest clue. I shall bring this development to the attention of His Grace immediately and see what we can come up with. You should try and get some sleep, as I will need your input on this first thing in the morning."

Aiden nodded tiredly, closing the book on his desk and stretching his muscles. The long hours of study had taken their toll, even before the vision. He bid the old wizard goodnight before sauntering off to an adjacent room. It had been set up as a temporary place for him to rest during his studies, but had quickly turned into his unofficial bedroom.

Desmond's large grey cat, Major, was in his usual place in the centre of the bed, taking up as much room as possible. In no mood to deal with the grumpy feline, Aiden shoved him aside to make room for himself and lay down for some rest. Despite the shock he had received at Salinder's death, he was asleep within minutes.

* * *

Aiden awoke from a dreamless sleep early the next day, and after performing his morning routine headed down to the faculty lounge for breakfast. The wizards and scholars who populated the University tower cast furtive glances at him as he filled a bowl with oats and fresh milk, and a few pieces of buttered toast. Despite his presence in the tower, Aiden was not a member of the staff nor was he an actual student, and he was quite certain his knighthood was the only thing keeping them from casting him out.

Long had he dreamed of coming to this tower to learn the arcane arts, having spent years researching the mysteries of magic on his own. Now he was here, his placement into the crowded halls by the duke smacked of elitism. Aiden's experience over the last few weeks had proven to be disappointing, and far from the scholarly environment he had long sought.

Conscious of the muttered conversations that had sprung up at his arrival, Aiden took his breakfast back up to the lab, where he would only have to fend off the insatiable hunger of Major instead of the unspoken aspersions of his colleagues. Eager to keep his mind occupied, he continued work on the arcane gauntlet as he ate.

The alien device had proven invaluable during the events leading up to the battle against the conspirators in the throne room, but it had a habit of heating up to the point where he had to shut it down before it burned his hand.

His investigations over the past few weeks had revealed the reason for this behaviour. Created by a mysterious ancient culture, the gauntlet was without doubt several centuries old at least, and a good deal of that time had been spent lying on the ground inside a broken underground complex, rife with moisture and dirt.

After carefully inspecting the device, Aiden had discovered small vents along the back of the gauntlet that were clogged with a black sludge, and although cleaning it out had proven to be tedious and time consuming, he was certain the heat it generated while in use would be better able to escape, allowing it to work for longer. It was a sound theory for a device that defied explanation by all the known methods of magic, at least according to Desmond and the other faculty heads.

Aiden glanced at the broken crystal and thought back to the vision he had seen. There were still so many questions he had wanted to ask of the dragon, but now they would never be answered. On an impulse he concentrated his mind, shifting his vision until everything appeared grey, except for the aura that surrounded anyone or anything suffused with magical power.

The gauntlet shone brightly in his arcane sight, yet the sphere itself lay dormant, completely devoid of power. He sadly looked away from the crystalline ball as confirmation of its broken state became obvious, only to be momentarily blinded by an intense blue light. Aiden lifted a hand reflexively to shield his sight, bewildered by what could possibly be radiating so much energy. Allowing his sight to return to normal, he was taken aback by the fact that he was looking directly at his auldsteel blade.

Recovered from the hands of a dead elven warrior in the crumbling ruins of Feybourne, the worn, gem-studded sword was well over a thousand years old, and the magic within it had faded long ago. How then was it possible for it to suddenly be practically on fire with magical energy?

"Are you still fiddling with that thing?" came a young woman's voice from outside the window. Aiden turned in surprise at the voice. Sayana Arai — sorceress, sometime companion and former lover had returned once more. Several times a week, she came to him seeking answers regarding the small relic he had discovered months ago in the ruins of the old city of Ferrumgaard. As usual, she had avoided the stairs of the tower and instead simply levitated up the outside wall.

"I'm just about done, actually," Aiden said hastily, polishing the gauntlet to cover his interest in the sword. Her curly red hair had regrown somewhat over the past few months, covering her pointed ears once more. Sayana was of mixed parentage, and although Aiden wasn't aware of anyone harassing her about her elven heritage in recent days, she seemed to be more relaxed when her ears weren't on display for all to see.

"That's what you said last time," she said, gazing at him with large green eyes. She continued to hover in mid-air as casually as if she were standing on solid ground. "Have you even been looking at the Lexicon?"

"When I have time, yes," Aiden replied, glancing down at the small cube on the desk that held an incredible wealth of information within it. "The problem is translating the difficult language its creators used. Why don't you come inside?"

"I'd rather not," she replied hesitantly, understandable after her previous encounters in the university, stemming from the local wizard's distrust of sorcerers.

"You're in the good graces of the Crown," Aiden assured her. "Just get in here and stop making a scene."

"Nobody can see me from down below," she stated with just a hint of smugness. "I learned a little trick from Criosa."

"That's Princess Criosa to you, young lady," Desmond barked from the entrance to the laboratory. He was looking scruffier than usual, although Aiden was used to the sight after living in the tower for the past few weeks. "I will thank you to use the front door in future."

"Sorry," Sayana mumbled, lowering her eyes so her tumbling curls obscured her face somewhat. The sorceress climbed in through the window and alighted on the floor.

"Any news from Nel or Pace?" Aiden asked as he set the gauntlet aside.

"You can ask them yourself at the meeting," she replied, glancing around at the lab and fixing her eyes on Major, who lay sprawled at the back of Aiden's desk.

"What meeting?" Aiden asked.

"The one we're about to have in the castle," Desmond muttered absently as he gathered up various odd-smelling ingredients from a nearby shelf. "After informing the duke of the events you described, he has called for a communication with the king."

"Isn't he hundreds of miles away, fighting a war?" Aiden pointed out.

"Well, of course he is," Desmond shot back impatiently, "which is why I am going to assist in the casting of an incantation that will permit contact with His Majesty. Help me carry all of this, would you? Ah, I'll handle the scroll cases myself, actually. Bring that tome over there, the one with the blue binder."

Aiden flinched at the unspoken message — he could not be trusted around such alluring magic anymore. Desmond had learned of his recent over-use of arcane scrolls, and had gone to great lengths to remove them from the laboratory.

Putting this concerns aside, Aiden went to the old wizard's aid and ended up carrying most of the gathered materials as they descended the staircase. Sayana timidly followed along, using her legs this time.

"So, did you discover anything new?" she quietly asked of Aiden as they moved through the crowded lower floors of the tower.

"Can this wait?" he asked, practically juggling the pile of equipment in his arms. "We already have a lot to deal with."

"I've been waiting for weeks," Sayana persisted. "If you haven't been able to figure out anything more from that thing, give it to me and I'll do the research myself." Aiden held his silence as they passed through the outer doors of the tower and into the courtyard of the university. Before them, the cathedral of the Church of Aielund gleamed in the warm morning sun, a counterpoint to the arcane might of the university itself.

"Look, it's obvious that your tattoos — 'arcane conduits' being the correct term — were applied to you at some point," Aiden confided after realising she wasn't going to give up. Desmond was gaining distance from them so Aiden felt safer talking about this sensitive issue. "From what I've read, people aren't born with these markings so you weren't 'made' by these people. You were born normal, perhaps gifted even, and this was done to you."

"Why don't I find this revelation comforting?" Sayana remarked as they passed through the outer gates of the university grounds and headed towards the looming presence of Fairloch Castle.

"Step to it, quickly now!" Desmond called back to them, the old wizard apparently unwilling to slow down.

"How does someone that old move so fast?" Aiden muttered. "Anyway, the question you should be asking is, who put those markings on you, and how did they have access to such powerful magic? The people who designed those markings vanished millennia ago, so it wasn't one of them. I'm willing to bet your father's side of the family, the Akoran mountain people don't know anything about it either."

"Your answers have only given me more questions," Sayana replied somewhat despondently.

"I wish I had more time to go over it," Aiden continued. "I suspect the method of creating sorcerous markings like this was kept highly secret, and it's likely to have been lost over time. We may never find all of the answers."

They fell silent as they continued walking along the main street, with Sayana pondering this revelation and Aiden focused on the upcoming meeting. Before them, the gray stone of Fairloch Castle loomed, getting closer by the minute. Seeing he was having difficulty keeping his burden from falling onto the ground, Sayana took a few of the larger items to help him out.

They were met just inside the front gate by a small, officious woman with graying hair who had become the new castellan, replacing the man who had turned out to be a traitor to the Crown. She took her job very seriously, and was constantly buzzing about making sure those working under her aegis kept the castle in perfect working order. She bid them wait in the comfortable confines of the foyer while the duke finished up other business.

"I thought knights were supposed to have people carry their stuff for them," a familiar voice mocked him from the other side of the room. Peering past his load of supplies, Aiden spied Pacian Savidge sitting on the couch, his blond hair tied back in a short tail and his stylish goatee neatly trimmed.

"My title hasn't conferred the same privileges as some other people," Aiden replied sourly, noticing he was sitting next to Nellise Sannemann. Tired of dealing with his burden, Aiden dumped the scrolls and jars of ingredients into an empty chair and went over to greet his old friend with a solid handshake.

"When we're done here, perhaps you can fetch me a glass of water," Pacian smirked.

"Don't push your luck," Aiden replied with a meaningful look, before turning his attention to the beautiful young woman sitting next to him.

"Sir Aiden," Nellise greeted him, her golden eyes twinkling with humour.

"Dame Nellise," Aiden replied with equal mirth as she stood from the couch to embrace him.

"It's good to see you again," Nellise breathed, giving Aiden the impression she had been in need of a hug for some time. His curiosity piqued, he gave her an inquiring look and received a slight shake of her head in reply. Aiden surmised they would discuss something in private soon.

"So, how are you two faring?" he asked, pleased to see his friends after several weeks apart. "You've been keeping a low profile since the state funeral."

"I am still learning the intricacies of managing Highlorn," Nellise explained, referring to the fiefdom the Crown had bestowed upon her. "Sir William's old squire knows it all like the back of his hand, but there's a lot to learn."

Aiden felt a small pang of regret at the mention of the old knight, who had fallen in battle during the dark days of recent times. He didn't dwell upon this subject however, for he was certain Sir William would want them to move on with their lives.

"I know I've said it before, but I wish I could have accompanied you back to the Isle of the Dead," Aiden said in a quiet voice.

"You could barely stand, let alone endure the journey," she reminded him. "Besides, there was no longer any threat — the entire week was devoted to sanctifying the ancient ruins and bestowing a proper burial upon those that had died there long ago. And of course, to bring Sir William home again."

"I don't like having him buried on your lands," Pacian remarked dourly. "It's... creepy."

"He is resting alongside his family in a small crypt on the far side of the property," Nellise explained to Aiden. "They are only my lands because Sir William bequeathed them to me, so he can stay as long as he likes."

"You see what I mean? Creepy," Pacian confided in exasperation.

"Well, it's good that you've got a place to yourselves at least," Aiden continued with a dry smile. "My new title has only resulted in spending a ridiculous amount of time studying in the university."

"Do not discount the privilege bestowed upon you, sir," Desmond reminded him. "Laboratory assistants typically work their way through the ranks of the student body for several years before being graced with the position."

"A fact that the faculty and student body are sure to remind me of in an assortment of subtle ways," Aiden grumbled, noticing the castellan returning from the main hall.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the duke will see you in the war room now," she announced in a voice that rang with civic pride. "If you would care to follow me..." As one, they stood and followed the official through to the throne room, with Aiden having to spend a few moments gathering his materials once more before catching up.

The throne room had been repaired after the terrible battle that had taken place here weeks ago, and Aiden felt a flash of pain at the memories. He glanced at the place Valennia Far-Eagle had fallen to their enemies, and Aiden almost tripped as unpleasant emotions boiled to the surface. Though she had started out as hired muscle, the Akoran warrior-maiden had proven to be a loyal ally and friend, right to the end. She deserved better.

The entourage followed the castellan to another door leading into a large, well-lit chamber. Ancient shields and other heraldic devices hung from the walls, and the many tables in the room were covered in large maps. A small group of people were already talking amongst themselves in the chamber, each of whom Aiden recognised.

The distinctive form of the man known only as Mister Kinsey leaned against one table. He leaned upon a cane in one hand as he quietly studied the map before him with gray, unflinching eyes. The king's spymaster, Kinsey had been instrumental in hunting the remaining members of the conspiracy against the Crown, and now stood as aide de camp to the duke, replacing the late Sir Godfrey Davis.

Charles Montague, Duke of Fairloch, stood next to his assistant and detailed the nuances of logistical information with the accuracy and patience of one who had an abiding love of numbers. His long white beard was neatly trimmed, yet he still showed the strain of a man barely coping with his duties. He had suffered a heart attack during the former castellan's attempt to usurp power and was only now resuming the burdens of office.

Finally, there was Princess Criosa Roebec, daughter to the king and sole heir to the throne of Aielund. She was of slight build, with flowing blond hair and eyes as blue as the northern sky. Her intervention during the fight in the throne room had ensured not only their victory, but the capture of the former castellan, her former fencing teacher. He had disclosed a wealth of information about his plans.

Desmond commandeered one of the tables and bid Aiden to set the equipment upon it. The old wizard read through the large blue-bound tome, incanting magic using strange ingredients, and scratching a number of large symbols upon the floor. It was all very involved, but Aiden's keen mind paid close attention to the ritual.

"Sir Aiden, so good of you to join us," Criosa greeted him warmly, interrupting his train of thought. There was a spark in her eye when she looked at him. Aiden had tried to dismiss her interest as a youthful infatuation, yet as he had learned in the past few weeks, she appeared to have genuine feelings for him. "I trust you have recovered after last night's... experience?"

"Yes, Your Highness," Aiden replied with a quick bow. "It's not the first vision I've witnessed in this manner, though it was certainly... unsettling to see a valuable ally cut down like that. Your father was equally disturbed, from what I could see."

"My father was there?" Criosa asked in surprise. "Dean Foster neglected to mention this small fact."

"It hardly seemed relevant at the time, Highness," Desmond replied gruffly.

"Let me be the judge of that in future, Dean," Criosa advised with a measure of tightness to her voice.

"You can speak with him yourself, in a few minutes," Desmond said as an apology, something that was rare to hear from the grumpy old man.

"Excellent. Since we have the pleasantries out of the way, perhaps we can get right to it?" Criosa asked, looking to Mister Kinsey. The spymaster had allowed his gray beard to grow out a little more, and it contrasted sharply against his olive complexion.

"I'm not privy to how much you have heard about the war effort, ladies and gentlemen," he began with a quiet voice, "so you'll excuse me if I go over information you've already heard." Aiden and his companions gathered around the large table on which was a map featuring the Kingdom of Tulsone in exquisite detail. Markers were placed in various locations, apparently denoting battles that had taken place over the past few months. Aiden was dismayed to note there were a lot of markers.

"Sensing that his counterpart was stalling for time," Kinsey went on, "His Majesty tired of negotitation and sent word to gather as many soldiers as we could, and send them to Culdeny. From there, they met with the royal fleet and sailed west, to fight through to the temple where the Ironlord was supposed to reappear at some point in the near future."

"Early this morning, I received a communiqué from His Majesty, indicating that the remnants of his force had finally arrived at the temple in question, an unremarkable place in a remarkable location. Scholars say it is a point where the planes of reality intersect — whatever that means — and it is there that the Ironlord appeared." This information sent a ripple of concern through the assembly, with the exception of Aiden, who had already guessed this would have occurred.

"Does that mean my father has already fought it?" Criosa asked, her voice filled with concern.

"Yes, Highness," Kinsey confirmed, "I have no further information, so I have no idea what their situation is at this moment. I will add that Terinus, the king's wizard, postulated the Ironlord would be weakened from its journey and vulnerable to attack. When Dean Foster has finished his preparations, we will be able to speak directly to him and learn of their fate."

"If this thing is as powerful as you say," Pacian mused aloud, "what are the chances they've actually been able to stop it?"

"Slim, at best," Kinsey replied grimly. "There are too many unknown factors to make an accurate guess."

"I'm just about ready to proceed over here, Highness," Desmond called. "With your permission..?"

"Go ahead," Criosa answered, somewhat impatiently. The wizard began incanting soft words in the strange language of magic while sprinkling a fine black powder across the floor. When he was done, he stepped away from the area and stood, watching it expectantly.

"Any moment now..." Desmond murmured to himself, just before a brief flash of light flared in the centre of the arcane symbol and the visage of King Seamus Roebec appeared, translucent yet recognisable. In the half-day since Aiden had seen his image on the Aether, the king had undergone a a terrible transformation.

His hair was matted with blood, and his magnificent plate armour was dented and cracked from a number of impacts. Dirt and blood were visible on his face, and his beard was charred as if from a fire. His shoulders were slumped in exhaustion, yet in spite of all this, he managed to retain his regal bearing for the sake of his daughter.

"I take it you can see me clearly then?" King Seamus said in a voice weighed with fatigue. "I cannot see any of you, only hear you speak."

"I'm here, father," Criosa told the spectral image, concealing her concern.

"It is so good to hear you again, Criosa, alive and safe," the king replied with a nostalgic smile on his face.

"Yes, I am quite safe, now," the princess replied carefully, keeping the truth of recent events from him. "What is the situation there?"

"Things have not gone well for us, even before arriving at the temple itself," the king explained with a heavy voice. "Excuse me, could you repeat that?" he asked, looking to something unseen off to his right. "Well can't you just... I see. I shall expedite my speech then. Terinus was informing me this incantation will not last long, so I shall be blunt. My quest to eliminate the Ironlord upon its return to this realm has failed."

"Good heavens," the elderly duke breathed. "Tell us what has happened, Majesty."

"Charles old friend, it's good to hear you as well. Who else is there in the room with you?"

"Aside from your daughter, I have Mister Kinsey here as my advisor, as well as Dean Foster of course. There are also four loyal subjects here who have recently acquitted themselves well in service to the Crown," the duke explained. "Sir Aiden Wainwright, Dame Nellise Sannemann, Pacian Savidge and Sayana Arai."

"When I have the time, I want to hear about everthing that's happened at home," King Seamus said. "Who is this Sir Aiden you speak of? I have never heard of this knight, or any of the others you mentioned."

"They have recently offered exemplary service to the Crown," Criosa explained. "I trust them, and so should you."

"Well and good," the king muttered. "This information is extremely sensitive, so you are not to speak to anyone outside that room of what I am about to impart. I had my doubts the Ironlord would appear at this place, as the notion of a thin barrier between realities seemed to be far-fetched. Yet appear it did, and we fought it over the following few hours. Only when it became clear we did not have the power to stop it did I order the withdrawal, and we have spent the last hour tending to our wounded."

"It did not pursue you?" Kinsey asked curiously.

"Thankfully no, or I would not be alive to send this message," the king answered as Aiden and Kinsey exchanged a glance. "We simply lost too many fighting our way here. Damn that King Évariste, why did he have to be so intractable?"

"Where is it now?" Kinsey pressed.

"When we broke off the fight, it headed east, towards the desert," Seamus explained, his voice cracking from bellowing orders all night. "I cannot explain why it wasn't headed for any nearby city or town. It clearly has some measure of intelligence, but the logic of its course escapes me."

"Were you able to weaken it?" the duke asked.

"In all the blood and dust, it was hard to say for certain. If I had to hazard a guess, I would say any damage was minimal," Seamus explained, lowering his gaze to rub his eyes. "All of this... and we barely even scratch it."

"If it's unstoppable, then why did it need an army of metal men to assail the Kingdom last time?" Aiden asked. There was no answer forthcoming, and a moment of silence descended upon the gathering.

"He has a point," Kinsey admitted. "It must have some sort of weakness to require aid like that."

"I don't think any of us can conjecture as to the otherworldly intelligence of this relic," Desmond huffed.

"Terinus informs me my time with you is nearly up, so listen carefully," the king interrupted. "I intend to pursue the damned thing and try to destroy it before it reaches Aielund, but my men are in need of rest and I do not foresee the size of my army being enough to stop it in any case."

"It is my belief it will attack Aielund again, as it did a century ago. It cannot get through the swamplands on the western border without sinking right to the bottom, so it will come at us through Fort Highmarch. That is where we will make our stand, as our forefathers did."

"Charles, I need you to mobilise any and all reserves you can muster — take them from the City Watch if you have to, but get them together and get them moving as soon as possible. Instruct whoever you put in charge of the force to swing through Stonegaard and get the dwarves to part with as many soldiers as they can. Make whatever promises you need to make it happen."

"Actually, we recently extracted an oath of service from King Sulinus," the duke pointed out with a fond look towards Nellise. "I am certain we will have a sizeable force to bring south."

"I don't know how you managed it, but that's the best news I've heard in months," the king breathed. "Get the remaining rangers to head to the fort as well. Hell, at this point, I'd consider asking the Akoran tribes for help."

"Of course, Majesty, I will make all the arrangements," the duke assured his liege.

"I will lead them personally," Criosa added, drawing a concerned look from her father.

"No Criosa, it's far too dangerous," he responded. "I didn't send you back to Fairloch only to put you at further risk!"

"But I've already been at—"

"Blast, I'm nearly out of time," King Seamus interrupted once more. "We'll have to talk again in a few days. Charles — get those reinforcements moving, and for the love of God, keep my daughter safe. Promise me!"

"You have my word, Majesty," the duke replied solemnly, drawing an incredulous look from Criosa.

"Excellent. I feel better already, just knowing you'll be—" The visage promptly vanished mid-sentence, and the distinct odour of sulphur permeated the air as the spell dissipated. A profound silence echoed around the room as everyone present weighed the information they had just received.

"Well, this is all bloody dramatic, isn't it?" Pacian remarked. "Here's a cheery thought — the king threw an army against that thing and it just walked away. What good is sending another ten thousand to their deaths going to achieve?"

"Do you have a better idea?" Kinsey asked caustically.

"What about those fiery ballista bolts the navy uses?" Nellise inquired. "What if we hit it with a dozen of those at once? It was enough to injure the dragon over Culdeny, after all."

"We'll need an army to support siege engines," Kinsey remarked dryly. "Regardless of what we do, we'll need to organise as many men and women as possible to fortify the place. They'll need supplies, equipment and—"

"And a leader," Criosa interrupted forcefully.

"Your Highness?" Nellise asked curiously.

"I will be heading to Fort Highmarch to personally oversee the preparations."

"Didn't your father just tell you not to go?" Sayana asked. "I recall we went to a lot of effort to get you here in the first place."

"Fairloch has proven to be just as dangerous as any other place in the country," Criosa retorted.

"Out of the question," the old duke bristled. "I have sworn an oath to your father to keep you safe."

"I'm not going to give you a choice, Uncle," Criosa said with a smile that did not diminish her resolve. "Besides, if my father knew the full truth about what has been going on around here lately, he'd have a fit."

"She's got a point, there," Pacian added. "It'll hardly be more dangerous on the road."

"I'll have you to protect me, won't I?" she pointed out, looking to Aiden.

"I thought I was needed here to do further research," he pointed out rather lamely.

"I think we're done with research, Aiden," Desmond remarked. "You'll be needed down at the fort as well, I should think."

"Lovely," Aiden muttered.

"You are putting me in a very difficult position, Highness," the duke said with a shake of his head. "If your father finds out, he'll be most put out with me."

"If you think I can just sit around here in a frilly dress, playing the part of the beloved princess while my father and his army fight for our country, then you don't know me as well as you might think. Besides, who else can you send?"

"The list of candidates has grown thin of late," the duke muttered. "Very well Criosa, I submit to your authority. What do you need of me?"

"Carry out my father's instructions, and send every able-bodied man or woman capable of fighting to the fort," Criosa ordered, her entire demeanour changing as she assumed command. "Tell the navy to sail the fleet to Culdeny, leave their ships and march south. We need soldiers, not sailors. And have them bring along all of their fire bolts as well, we'll need them."

"I shall see to it, Your Highness," the duke replied.

"South? Through the mountains?" Nellise asked. "There's still a dragon blocking the highway between here and Culdeny."

"Didn't Commander Black pay it to block that pass?" Aiden countered, referring to the mercenary who attacked Culdeny months ago. "It probably doesn't know that he's dead and the entire organisation it's working for is no more."

"Are you suggesting we go and talk to it?" Sayana asked incredulously.

"Yes, and if it refuses to budge, I suspect we have the power to force it away now," Aiden replied meaningfully. "You still have Solas Aingeal, don't you Nel?"

"For now, although the Church has been insisting I return it after the demise of Sir William," Nellise answered quietly. "I am not exactly in good standing with them at the moment, knighthood or not."

"They're not going to try and take it," Pacian assured her, his voice hard and uncompromising. "We need it to protect the Kingdom, and you're the only one who can wield it."

"I shall have words with the archieros to ensure you may keep it for now," Criosa added. "You should all go and gather your equipment and meet me in the foyer within the hour." Without waiting for a reply, she swept out of the war room. As they began to file out, the duke touched Aiden's arm and took him to one side.

"I have a request, Sir Aiden," he asked formally.

"Anything, Your Grace," Aiden offered.

"Criosa is headstrong and talented, but she is somewhat naïve. If she were to come to personal harm, I would take it rather personally. I want your word of honour that you will do everything within your power to protect her."

"I will do what I can," Aiden replied slowly, "but we're walking into a war. Death, be it hers or ours, may be unavoidable."

"That's a horribly realistic view of the situation, sir," the duke admonished him.

"I'm just saying it like it is, Your Grace," Aiden said unapologetically.

"Then I suppose I will have to content myself with that answer. Good fortune to you, Sir Aiden, and to all of us."

"Just don't forget to send that army," Aiden reminded him with a meaningful look. "I could probably take on the Ironlord all by myself, but killing it would take days." The duke's laugh was a welcome sound in the otherwise tense halls of the castle.

"I'll do what I can, but I cannot make any promises," he said meaningfully. "Now you know how it feels."

"Point taken, Your Grace," Aiden said, shaking the elderly statesman's hand before he left the room and returned to the tower to gather his equipment. Despite his bluster, Aiden felt a deep sense of foreboding he could not shake.

Chapter Two

Upon returning to the university's tower, Aiden went about gathering his travelling gear for the first time in weeks. Though he was certain nobody was looking forward to the impending battle, Aiden had good reason to be pessimistic. He had seen the Ironlord first-hand.

Packing his equipment took twice as long as usual, for Major was in a playful mood and did his utmost to bat away anything Aiden went to grab. He decided to focus on his breastplate and come back for the rest later, hoping the belligerent feline would tire of the game.

Once the lightweight armour was in place, Aiden strapped on his gauntlet and reached for his auldsteel blade. His hand hesitated over the hilt as he recalled the strange power emanating from the sword. Unsure what to expect, he finally built up the courage to grasp the blade and was rewarded with silence.

Shifting his sight to the spectrum of magic, he squinted at the blinding radiance suffusing the blade as he held it before him, just as powerful as it had appeared earlier. Aside from this strange occurrence, there seemed to be nothing different about the sword, so he strapped it to his belt with the intention of further investigating it when he had the time.

Major sat watching with his sharp yellow eyes, his tail lashing about in anticipation of something to pounce upon. Tiring of the feisty cat's game, Aiden gave up any pretence of subtlety and made a move for his backpack, only to find ten pounds of clawed fury on his arm. Fortunately, Desmond showed up to separate the two.

"Major, that's quite enough of that," he barked. The cat leaped away from the scene of the crime as Desmond took note of Aiden's appearance. "I see you are ready to embark."

"I suppose so, although I had hoped to find something more substantial in our research before rushing off prematurely," Aiden lamented. "I have a feeling this will end badly."

"Indeed, though it remains to be seen who it ends badly for," Desmond huffed, reaching for his pipe and tamping some pipe weed into it. "Now then, you'd better head off. You don't want to keep Her Highness waiting."

"Quite so," Aiden agreed. "Any last thoughts?"

"I will continue my work for another week, before joining you all at the fort," the old wizard said as he handed a small jar of yellow powder to him. "I intend to travel in a manner more suitable to my vocation, once the appropriate arrangements have been made. You are familiar with my sigil, yes? Find an unused area of the fort and trace out the design on the floor with that powder. I shall use it as a beacon to transport myself and a few others, when the time comes."

"That's a good idea," Aiden remarked, looking at the fine powder in the jar. "I wish somebody would do that for me."

"Well, we can't all have apprentices running around doing our bidding," Desmond said with a chuckle. It dawned on Aiden what he had just heard, and he looked at the old man in astonishment.

"Am I really your apprentice?" he asked quietly.

"I can't very well have somebody working for me who isn't," Desmond grunted indignantly. "You have the makings of a fine wizard Aiden, and I would be most upset if you were to be horribly killed."

"I'll make it there alive, or die trying," Aiden assured him with a grin that he couldn't suppress.

"How droll," Desmond muttered. "Run along, you rapscallion." Aiden gave him an appreciative smile and headed out the door, having gained a new perspective on his role at the university. Instead of thinking of himself as the boy who ran away from home to pursue a dream, he was now an apprentice wizard at the University of the Arcane, not to mention a knight of the realm.

When he reached the castle's foyer, he found it deserted. The faint sound of metal on metal could be heard somewhere nearby. Drawing his sword, Aiden quietly moved further into the castle, heading towards the source. If there was a real problem, the Royal Guard would have been called in.

His suspicions were confirmed when he came to the castle's training room. An assortment of heraldic banners lined the walls, along with an array of shields and weapons used by the elite guard over the years. A small crowd had gathered to watch a fight taking place in the hall. In amongst them was the princess, Sayana and Pacian, but it wasn't until Aiden had pushed his way through the assemblage that he laid eyes on the combatants.

Nellise, clad in a suit of plate armour fought against a sergeant of the Royal Guard. The cleric was wielding Solas Aingeal in one hand and holding a shining shield in the other, both items formerly belonging to the late Sir William.

The armour she wore appeared to be Valennia's suit, given to the Akoran woman for her bravery in defending the dwarven king. The suit had been modified to fit Nellise, who had claimed it when nobody else would.

It was odd to see the former priestess of the Church of Aielund fully armoured like this, but her obvious skill with the sword showed Nellise had been practicing over the past few weeks. Her opponent was running her through a series of challenging strikes, apparently testing her capabilities for the sake of the audience.

Several members of the clergy were gathered around, clearly judging Nellise on her fighting capability. It probably had something to do with the sword, a holy relic of the Church that they were no doubt eager to have back in their vault once again.

Criosa, watching the duel with the others, was clad in form-fitting blue leathers of expensive design and wore an elegant rapier strapped to her belt. A number of pouches were attached to her belt, and a short bow hung over one shoulder, complete with a quiver of arrows. Her silken blond hair was tied at the back of her head.

She glanced over at Aiden and smiled. He blushed furiously, unaware he'd been staring. He turned his attention back to the fight just as Nellise raised her gleaming sword in salute to her opponent, who had yielded after a series of effective blows had sent his sword flying across the mat. Mild applause broke out from the crowd, most notably from Pacian. As Nellise took off her helm, she wiped the sweat from her brow as her white-blond hair cascaded down her back.

"I'll never get used to wearing all of this," she complained mildly as she sheathed the holy sword.

"Very impressive, Dame Nellise," a priest whom Aiden recognised as Archon Price congratulated her. The last time they had met, Price had proven to be officious and bureaucratic to a fault. "Understand that we still wish to have Solas Aingeal returned to the cathedral, as it does not belong to you, regardless of your title or skill."

"The archieros granted it to Sir William after receiving a vision, did he not?" Nellise asked. "As high-ranking members of the Church, were you privy to the details of this vision?"

"We were," the Archon replied cautiously. Aiden was about to speak up when Criosa, who had sidled up beside him quietly, hushed him with a single glance.

"I was there when Blessed Kylaris told him it was time for Solas Aingeal to walk the world again, to combat the rise of evil throughout the land," Nellise continued. "I put to you the vision did not include Sir William exclusively, and anyone of pure heart and mind may carry forth God's light."

"You dare interpret the will of Kylaris?" the other priest challenged. "Only our beloved archieros may attempt that."

"You have informed me that he is indisposed at this time," Nellise pressed. "Tell me Sir William was the only one who could possibly wield this sword, and I will relinquish it. Either that, or admit you do not want me to wield it because I have fallen from your good graces."

"I would add that the Crown has complete confidence in her," Criosa piped in, her voice carrying the sort of authority that one would expect from a member of the royal family. "Dame Nellise is a member of a knightly order devoted to the highest ideals. You have ultimate authority over the weapon of course, though if you forbid her from using it, I will take it as an affront to both myself and the throne. Here, at our darkest hour, is not the time to be playing politics, gentlemen. Choose wisely." The priests whispered amongst themselves for a while before finally answering.

"You have the complete support of the Church of Aielund as always, Your Highness," Archon Price explained with a bow. "Solas Aingeal is yours, for a time. But when this crisis is averted, it shall be returned to us once more."

"Of course, Your Eminence," Nellise replied with aplomb.

"Then the matter is resolved to the satisfaction of all parties," Criosa said with finality. "We have a great deal to accomplish in the days ahead, so if you gentlemen will excuse us?"

"Of course, Your Highness," the Archon answered in a manner which hinted the issue was far from settled. When the clergy had departed, Sayana was the first to speak.

"What was that all about?" she asked as she adjusted the straps holding her armour.

"I anticipated this occurring weeks ago," Criosa explained absently. "I've heard a great deal about the Church's lack of affinity for you Nellise, and I wanted to make sure they were unable to make things difficult for you."

"Is that what the knighthood was all about?" Pacian inquired.

"In a way, yes," Criosa nodded. "Don't misunderstand — you have both earned your induction into the Rose Eagles, yet I also considered the Church's reluctance to trifle with members of the nobility. The knighthood is a measure of political protection as well."

"What about me?" Aiden inquired.

"I knighted you so you would have some measure of authority when dealing with nobles, generals and the like," Criosa explained. "I have complete faith in you Aiden. People of rank sometimes see you as nothing more than an upstart. Now, they see an upstart knight, but it's an improvement."

"That's rather clever, actually," Aiden surmised with a half-smile at Criosa. "Here I was thinking I was just very brave and handsome."

"Well, there's that, too," she replied with a grin and a self-conscious laugh. "But enough of such things — we have a long journey ahead of us, and precious little time to accomplish it." Aiden felt himself blushing under the scrutiny of his friends, but did not press the issue.

"Pardon me, Your Highness," the castellan interrupted. "I have received a message from the City Watch regarding a matter that directly addresses to Sir Aiden." She handed over a folded piece of paper.

"Thank you," he dismissed the castellan absently as he read the note. "We have a small detour to make on the way," Aiden said to Criosa. "The Captain of the Watch has asked me to stop by on a sensitive matter. Apparently somebody they have in custody has requested to speak with me by name."

"What about?" Criosa asked curiously.

"It says they can solve our dragon problem," Aiden replied.

* * *

It was a short walk to the closest watch house, a squat, unattractive building that mostly functioned as a short-term jail for petty thieves caught stealing in the markets. Crios's face was obscured by her hood, attempting to keep a low profile as she walked the streets of her city.

The watchman standing guard saluted smartly as they arrived. He immediately recognised Aiden and waved them through without delay. The interior of the watch house was as bland and utilitarian as the outside, made of heavy stone slabs that made the place impregnable to anything short of a proper siege. Small, oblong windows permitted a modicum of light into the hallway.

"Well, this is a rare honour," greeted a burly man wearing the uniform of a Captain of the Watch. His face was heavily lined and appeared like cracked leather, giving him an uncompromising appearance.

"I would prevail upon your discretion, captain," Criosa replied quietly. "I would rather not attract undue attention at this time."

"Don't worry, I am the very soul of discretion. Sir Aiden, I'm glad you've arrived so promptly."

"If you'd left the message any later, you would have missed me," he answered as he shook the man's offered hand. "Who is it you've arrested?"

"He wouldn't give us his name," the captain explained as he gestured for them to follow. "To be completely forthcoming, we didn't really arrest him, either. He surrendered himself at the gates of the city. The duty sergeant didn't know what to make of it, so he brought him in for questioning. He was damned evasive, and only told us to get that note to Aiden Wainwright. I hope we're not wasting your time sir, but he's got a dangerous look about him and I thought I'd better try and figure this one out."

"He has my attention," Aiden remarked. "Was he armed?"

"Only with a dagger he carried in one boot," the captain answered. "He didn't have much on him at all, only a small pouch of coins and this little trinket." He held up a necklace with a piece of charcoal mounted in a surrounding of jade. Aiden stared at it incredulously, recognising the elven relic capable of averting the wearer's death.

The charcoal used to be a diamond, but it changed after the amulet's power was invoked, as it had for Sir William after facing the dragon, Vindictus Spitefury.

"Is this the one?" Aiden asked as they arrived at the barred gate of a jail cell, ignoring the puzzled looks of his friends at the sight of the relic.

"Yes indeed," the captain confirmed, banging on the bars with his truncheon. "You there! I passed on your message and Sir Aiden was kind enough to grace us with his presence. If you've got something to say, now's the time to say it." The cell was partially lit by the sun, leaving half of the tiny room in deep shadow. A dark figure sat on the simple bed, impossible to distinguish in the dim conditions until he stood and came to the door.

"So, we meet again," said Robert Black in his deep, rough voice. Aiden stood there, staring at the sight of the mercenary commander who he had last seen bleeding to death on the battlefield outside Culdeny, months ago.

"You!" Aiden shouted to the gasps from the women as they recognised the man. Black's face showed many scars, but none greater than the one that ran over his left eye. It was covered by a black patch fastened by a leather strap. His other eye was piercing blue, and it gazed out of his cell with a cold malice that defied his otherwise calm demeanour. His dark, swept hair was greying at the edges. His clothing was plain, almost austere, a far cry from the expensive armour he wore on their last encounter.

"I see you remember me," Robert said, nodding to himself. "I certainly remember you, and Pacian and sweet Sayana with her axe. Wait... is that Criosa? If I knew I was to be visited by royalty, I would have cleaned the place up a bit."

"Damnable scum," Criosa breathed, "I should have you hanged for your crimes."

"Can't say I blame you," Robert said easily as he leaned against the bars. "Not that it matters, but I was just doing what I'd been paid to. I heard you managed to defeat the ones who were paying me, so bully for you."

"How the hell can you still be alive?" Pacian growled. "I stabbed you in the neck just before we left you for dead."

"We live in a world filled with daily miracles," Robert answered with a half-grin on his unshaven face. "Is it so hard to believe that a man of means could buy his way out of death?"

"Yes, I saw your little necklace," Aiden growled. "Those things are incredibly rare — how did you come by one?"

"Anything is for sale, for the right price," the mercenary replied cryptically.

"I don't understand, what was the necklace?" Nellise inquired, clearly shaken at the return of their old nemesis. Aiden explained how Alain Dufort had given one such item to Margaret Fairweather on their journey south and how she had used it to spare the life of Sir William.

"Did you pay for it with the money you received from the castellan?" Criosa asked in a measured voice.

"Is that who was paying me? How about that," Robert mused. "But to answer your question, no. I've had that pendant for years. I bought it right after my first major command at the Battle of Burgspitze, where I'd almost been killed by a stray ballista bolt. It seemed like a practical use for my money. Which leads to the reason I came here."

"About bloody time," Pacian grunted impatiently.

"The Battle of Culdeny was the worst mistake in my life," Robert said, ignoring him. "Bartlett dangled the prospect of immense riches in front of me and I threw caution to the wind. I ended up losing everything I built over the last decade — a company of loyal soldiers, wealth, influence... everything was under control until you showed up."

"So, you're looking for revenge," Aiden mused, levelling a threatening stare at the man. "I must say, this is a strange way to go about it, surrendering to the guards like that. No wonder we beat you."

"I'm not here for revenge, you idiot," Robert spat, losing control for the first time. "You took everything from me and left me with nothing. No, I came here because I have something to offer you."

"Is it the clothes on your back?" Pacian wondered. "No thanks, we already have some of those."

"Information," the mercenary grated, clearly hating every minute of this conversation. "And a good sword arm. In short, I want to work for you."

The room couldn't have been more silent if Black had cut everyone's tongues out. Aiden was at a loss for words for one of the few times in his life. The prospect of Black working for the people that almost killed him was unfathomable and judging by the disbelieving glances amongst his colleagues, they weren't convinced of the mercenary's sincerity either.

"After everything that's happened, after declaring that we took everything from you and left you for dead, you would still work with us?" Nellise asked suspiciously.

"Regrettably, yes," Robert muttered. "I haven't come to this decision lightly, mind you, but the information I have is valuable to you alone. Besides, I'm betting you need every experienced soldier you can get your hands on.

"You must understand that trusting you is going to be an issue, yes?" Criosa put to the mercenary after a moment's consideration.

"Oh, quite," he answered. "But here's something you need to understand. I'm a practical man. I don't hold grudges and I'm completely loyal to whomever I work for. You don't survive for long in this business if you cross your employer."

"You won't divulge the nature of this valuable information until we agree to pay you, I take it," Criosa added expectantly.

"That's the way it goes," Robert replied with a wink.

"I'm amenable to hearing more," Aiden said, "only because your note hinted something about the dragon blocking the highway over the mountains. I don't think we're going to hire you for anything else, considering your last job was to kidnap the princess and sack Culdeny." Robert's response was to grasp the bars on the door and press his face against them, his one eye glaring at the visitors.

"You've already tried to kill that dragon once before, and dozens of soldiers died," he spoke with cold confidence. "The hard truth of the matter is, you can't afford to squander any further resources in a pointless battle. You are going to need every able-bodied man and woman if you are planning what I think you're planning, and I know how to make that dragon disappear without so much as drawing a sword."

"Fine, tell us and we'll pay you for your efforts," Aiden responded. "Then we'll talk about whether or not to keep you in prison or just hang you right now."

"I need to speak to her directly," Robert explained, unfazed by the threat. "Your gear suggests you're about to head west, and I'd bet a hundred gold sovereigns you think you can take her in a fight. If you don't take me with you, you'll die trying. Besides, you're lacking some muscle — I understand your Akoran savage died weeks ago along with the elderly knight, and I somehow doubt that princess stick-figure here would be much use in a fight."

"Don't get too cocky or I shall have you flogged," Criosa stated firmly.

"Just say the word, Highness," the guard captain said reassuringly.

"Relax, I'm simply pointing out the obvious," Robert continued unperturbed. "Oh, did I mention I was the one who hired Azurefang to block the highway in the first place? Sorry, my memory isn't as good as it was before you left me for dead."

"Oh, now it makes sense," Sayana said to herself.

"What does?" Criosa asked curiously.

"When we fought her, Azurefang said she 'sings and dances to the black one's gold'."

"She doesn't really have both oars in the water, if you know what I mean," Robert remarked. "Still, she follows orders when you pay enough. You have no idea how expensive it is to hire a dragon, though. I'll talk to her and let her know her job is done and the problem will be solved. If you want to handle it yourselves, go right ahead, don't let me stop you. Be sure to give her a big sloppy kiss for me."

Aiden glared at the mercenary for a long moment, weighing the desire to punish the man for his crimes against the potential benefits on offer. It was Criosa who gave him the answer, however.

"There's nothing you can say or do that can excuse your past actions," she informed him coldly. Aiden was about to say something when another voice suddenly spoke right next to his ear.

Let him assist, it said in a familiar, deep voice. I will not tolerate another loss.

"Salinder?" Aiden whispered, looking around for the source. His eyes were drawn to the sword on his hip, and he recalled the power it had exhibited earlier. The series of events from Aiden's dream vision flashed through his mind, and he realised that the spirit of the dragon must have transferred through the crystal sphere into the sword. The particulars of this astonishing revelation bore further investigation, but for the moment, everyone was looking at him strangely.

"Give us a moment," he muttered to Robert, gesturing for the others to follow him back along the dank hall.

"What was that about?" Sayana asked, eyeing him suspiciously. "I heard you say that dragon's name — is he speaking to you now?"

She never trusted my kind, the voice of Salinder said in his mind, distracting him further from the conversation. You cannot prevail against Azurefang, for I will not help you slay another of my kind.

"I'm not entirely sure what's happening," Aiden confessed, gripping the hilt of his blade in an effort to shut Salinder up. "I do think we need to talk more about Robert's offer before we cast judgement upon him."

"He's a murderer," Criosa protested.

"He's a soldier," Aiden reminded her. "Robert was paid to attack a town, and that's what he did. This sort of thing is occurring every other day in the south of Feydwiir from what I've read, and I'm not saying it excuses him, but can't we at least get his help against Azurefang? Then we can decide if we want him to join in the fight at Highmarch."

"I know what you're about to ask," Pacian said as Aiden turned to him. "I vote we let him hang. We can take this one dragon in a fight."

"Don't be so sure about that," Sayana said with a shake of her head. "She has the advantage of knowing the terrain and she'll hear us coming a mile away. I don't need to remind you of our last encounter, do I?"

"That was being run by an idiot captain who went in thinking it'd be easy," Pacian snorted. "Think about what we've faced, and the fact we're still breathing. We can do this without his help."

"From what you've described, Azurefang is a lot bigger than Vindictus, the dragon we faced down in Feybourne," Aiden mused. "And Vindictus was weakened from being confined in that place for decades. I'd prefer to avoid a fight if we can and if Black can help, all the better."

"You make a good point," Criosa conceded reluctantly. "I don't think we can trust him, but I suppose we can enlist Commander Black's aid this one time... and then I will throw him in chains."

"Satisfied?" Aiden whispered, hoping Salinder could hear him.

It will suffice, the disembodied voice spoke to him. When they returned to Robert's cell, the mercenary was still leaning up against the bars, seemingly relaxed with his surroundings.

"You will deal with the dragon," Criosa stated, "and we will decide what to do with you afterward. Do not abuse my generosity with disloyalty, commander, or I shall have Pacian gut you."

"Oh joy, I haven't been eviscerated before," Robert replied blandly. "That sounds like a jolly good time. For what it's worth, Your Highness, I give you my word of honour that I won't harm you, or work against the interests of the Kingdom."

"Your words are meaningless, Robert Black," Sayana said while looking up at him with her unflinching green eyes. "It is your actions that will prove your worth. Cross us, and this time I'll take out your other eye as well." Robert stared back at her, the tension between the two palpable as they both recalled how he had lost his eye. Criosa observed the uncomfortable moment and then nodded to the captain, who unlocked the cell and allowed Robert to walk free.

"You won't regret this," he assured the princess, who maintained a blank expression as they turned to leave the jail.

"You will not be paid for this service," she informed him. "Consider it partial penance for your misdeeds."

"I wasn't expecting anything different," Robert grunted. "But you'll need to buy me some gear if I'm to travel with you. I'm not much good to you armed with my sturdy boots and winning charm, am I?"

He spoke the truth when he gave his word, Salinder informed Aiden, unbidden. You will need him before the end.

"Excuse me a moment," Aiden suddenly told them. "I need to check on something. I'll join you outside in a minute." He ignored Sayana's curious gaze as Aiden looked for privacy. "Can I use your office for a few minutes, captain?"

"Certainly, Sir Aiden," the officer replied. "I'm going to make my rounds and will return in a few minutes." Aiden nodded his thanks and stepped through a door into a small chamber furnished with a simple desk, chair and a lonely potted plant.

"Salinder?" he asked as he drew the sword. It didn't appear to look any different, and he was beginning to wonder if his suspicions were correct.

You do not need to hold the sword to speak with me, the voice of the dragon spoke. But yes, my spirit is within this weapon. I apologize for not bringing this situation to your attention earlier. You have been rather preoccupied.

"I... am at a loss for words. How did you even do this?" Aiden asked in bewilderment.

I knew my energies were faltering as my body withered, the dragon in the sword spoke. I also suspected the Ironlord would break free before I perished, but I would then be killed shortly thereafter. I had noticed the sword you recovered from Feybourne recently and recognized its design instantly. It is an elven soulsword, dating back to their first golden age three thousand years ago. Only four were made before unfortunate events led to the destruction of their city-state, but three of them survived the destruction. You hold one in your hands.

"I knew it was old, but not that old," Aiden breathed, looking at the blade with new perspective. "The name, 'soulsword'... does that mean what I think it means?"

The idea was to empower a weapon with the life-energies of one of their kind, in order to fight their mighty foes, Salinder continued. It was never designed to contain a force as vast and magnificent as my own however, so I have staved off my demise for a few weeks, at best. In that time, I can aid directly your cause.

"How, exactly?" Aiden asked curiously. The dragon's answer came in the form of a glow of increasing intensity from the crystals embedded into the sword. The sword began to shimmer with power and the rough, chipped edge of the ancient weapon filled out with light until it appeared smooth and unblemished by time.

My power is undiminished in this form, Salinder explained in a voice that grew with intensity in Aiden's mind. On the contrary, I feel freer and more focused now than I have for a century and more. From here, I can reach out and alter the very fabric of reality to my will, and none shall stand before our combined might. There is no force on this world that can withstand the edge of this blade, and that is but a modicum of my powers. Any who stand in my way will be annihilated and when we face the Ironlord, it will taste fear and be sundered to oblivion, in the name of vengeance!

Aiden held the blade before him, almost blinded by the light shining forth and numbed by the vibrations surging along the handle. The potted plant on the desk nearby skittered along the polished wooden surface as the entire room shook and the window shattered. Then, as quickly as it had happened, the light vanished completely, leaving Aiden staring in awe at the chipped and worn blade.

Chapter Three

"What was that about?" Pacian asked suspiciously when Aiden joined him out in the crisp spring air. Pacian was leaning casually against the wall, watching the crowds of people go about their daily affairs.

Tell them nothing.

"Nothing, really," Aiden replied with a quivering voice. "I just needed a moment to compose myself after seeing Robert alive."

"Yeah... smashing windows calms me down too," his old friend remarked sarcastically.

"Where are the others?"

"Sy's keeping watch on Black while he gets some travelling gear," Pacian explained. "Hopefully he'll try and make a break for it and she'll burn him to a crisp. That'd really brighten my mood."

"What of the other ladies?"

"They went to fetch the horses," Pacian answered with mild disinterest. "You know, I have to say I'm in agreement with the princess about that bastard. Well, what she said before you went and changed her mind, that is."

"Robert's going to try and get rid of it without a fight," Aiden pointed out. "You fought this dragon once already, Pace. Do you really want to have a second go at it?" Pacian shifted uncomfortably against the wall, speaking louder than words about his true feelings on the matter.

"Maybe not, but do you really think this bloke is going to just ask for her to leave, and she'll go? Azurefang isn't just unstable Aiden, she's completely mad. She's just as likely to eat us as say hello. Take it from me — this is going to end in a fight whether we like it or not."

"Well, Robert's going to be the one doing the talking, so if he gets eaten you won't be too upset about it, right?"

"I suppose," Pacian murmured, losing interest in the conversation. Aiden looked at him askance and pondered whether or not to press him on his recent attitude. The decision was made for him when Robert and Sayana returned, the mercenary protesting loudly as they approached. He was wearing a new black longcoat over warm travellers' clothing. There was no sign of armour or weapons on his attire.

"The mountains can be dangerous," he was saying. "By keeping me unarmed, you're risking my life. There's no point taking me along if I'm just going to get killed in some random skirmish, damn you."

"We're more than capable of protecting you," Sayana pointed out, unfazed by his argument. "If you need me to hold your hand when we're out in the big, dangerous mountains, just say so." Robert stifled an angry retort when he saw he was being observed. At over six feet, he towered over the slender woman, though Aiden wouldn't put money on Robert to win if a fight broke out.

"I'm not much good to you if I can't fight," the mercenary insisted, turning to Aiden when it became obvious he wasn't going to win the argument against Sayana. "At least buy me some armour — I feel naked walking around like this."

"Now there's a mental image I didn't need," Aiden drawled. "I think I speak for all of us when I say that trust must be earned, not given. Even gauntlets can be used as weapons, and I don't want to give you any ideas about smashing my head in tonight."

From down the street, he could see Criosa and Nellise approaching on horseback, with four mounts trailing behind them. The princess was astride a magnificent black mare that looked like it was more of a show horse than a practical mount, but the rest of them seemed to be sturdy beasts.

"Pick a horse and climb on," Criosa ordered when she came to a halt right before them. "I intend to make MacKenner Plateau before nightfall. During this journey, I must ask you not to refer to me as 'princess' or 'Your Highness', lest I draw undue attention. I trust you have everything you need?"

"Yes, we're all set here," Sayana replied before Robert could speak up. "I uh... I've never ridden a horse by myself before, though," she added shyly.

"I wish I'd known about that earlier," Criosa remarked. "You could have spent the past few weeks taking lessons. We really can't delay, so you'll have to ride with someone else."

"I suppose I could hang on to the back of Aiden," Sayana wondered.

I will not abide the touch of that sorceress, Salinder spoke in Aiden's mind, just to make things a little more difficult.

"Before you decide on that," Aiden said, thinking quickly, "consider that Robert will be riding by himself with nobody to keep an eye on him. If you were to ride with him, you could quickly react to anything he might try."

"Is that really necessary?" Robert complained, while a sly smile spread across Sayana's lips.

Crisis averted.

They spent a few minutes securing their supplies to their horses and then mounted up. Robert easily sat astride his black stallion, clearly demonstrating his experience as a rider and he reluctantly extended a hand to help Sayana climb up behind him.

While they were settling in, Aiden noticed Criosa gazing at the crowds of people going about their lives. The princess had a wistful expression on her delicate features, and he could guess what she was thinking. There was something about the way her hood framed her face that Aiden found quite captivating.

"They have no idea, do they," she said rhetorically. "They may have heard rumours, and they certainly know of the recent attempt to seize the throne, but the people are simply oblivious to the impending doom about to descend upon them, should we fail."

"Your subjects are safe, for now," Black told Criosa in his rough baritone. "Standing around here isn't going to make them any safer, though."

"I suppose not," she murmured. She shook the reins and led them down the cobblestone streets, kicking up a light dusting of snow from what little remained.

Fairloch's main gate was especially busy these days, as with the thawing weather, merchants were back on the road, transporting their wares to towns and cities along the east coast of Aielund. Criosa was adamant about keeping her identity obscured, so they had to wait in line like the rest of the travellers, instead of using her influence to bypass the guards.

Eventually, they passed through the gates without incident and cantered away from the city. Cherry trees lined the highway, their pink flowers in full bloom and stray petals drifting to the ground in the mild breeze. The air was still crisp and cold, though noticeably warmer than the past few months had been. There was something invigorating in the air and Aiden felt right at home as he followed behind Criosa, enjoying the brisk ride despite the nature of their journey.

For the next few hours, they travelled silently, with only the pounding of hooves and the rush of wind to listen to. As they travelled southwest, they passed by wagons, as well as common folk too poor to own a horse. The road began to rise as the Stonegaard Mountains loomed before them, growing closer with each passing hour.

They stopped for a short rest alongside the highway, allowing them to stretch and have a quick bite to eat. Sayana wasn't moving much — Aiden could tell she was hiding her discomfort so as not to appear weak before Robert. Despite his position as little more than a prisoner in the group, the mercenary strode about confidently, checking the horses for injury as well as making sure their equipment was secure. If Sayana had been attempting to intimidate him, it hadn't worked.

Eager to press on, Criosa had them back on their horses and riding for the mountains within ten minutes. The altitude, the steep grade and the cold were doing a great job at conspiring to impede their progress.

As the sun sank behind the mountains, the smell of smoke could be detected in the air and from up ahead, the welcoming flicker of campfires shone in the dim conditions.

Not long thereafter, they arrived at MacKenner Plateau and found dozens of other travellers setting camp for the night. Many had tents attached to the side of their wagons, and despite all the space available on the broad, flat ground, the place was looking rather cramped.

"I hate this place," Pacian growled as he dismounted. "A perfect place for an inn and it's left bare."

"Yes, I've often had merchants and nobles petitioning the Crown to construct an inn here," Criosa explained as she looked around. "Unfortunately, this is the eastern edge of the land Aielund bequeathed to the dwarves of Ferrumgaard when they had nowhere else to go. My understanding is that it's owned by the MacKenner clan and for whatever reason, they have refused to build anything."

"It's still stupid," Pacian grumbled. Nellise went to his side to offer him comfort, but he turned away and stalked off towards one of the large fire pits that people were gathering around. Nellise watched him go, the look of concern on her face troubling to say the least. Aiden busied himself by unpacking his small tent and setting it up, while Robert tended to the horses. When Aiden was done, he sauntered over to Nellise, who was just finishing off her own tent — by herself.

"Is now a good time to talk about it?" he prompted quietly, drawing a silent nod from the worried cleric. She gestured for him to follow her away from the camp site, to an empty place closer to the edge of the plateau. Nellise held her silence for a time, gazing out over the distant lights of Fairloch that twinkled like fallen stars.

"Pace hinted at something he'd done back in Stonegaard," Aiden began when it became clear Nellise wasn't going to start the delicate conversation. "He wouldn't talk to me about it then, and I think it's pretty obvious he hasn't spoken to you about it, either."

"He's bottling it up, whatever it is," Nellise replied softly, her fine pale hair swaying in the cold breeze. "It was something special, having him live with me at Highlorn for the past few weeks. He was enjoying the chance to indulge himself and laze about, as was his want. After the first week, he started to become short tempered with me, even when I hadn't done anything to deserve it. He began drinking heavily, and spent more time brooding than anything else."

"Trouble in the bedroom, perhaps?" Aiden asked, attempting to lighten her mood.

"My word Aiden, that was rather forward of you," she exclaimed, the typically conservative young woman caught off guard by his direct question. "And as it happens... untrue," she added in spite of herself, prompting an embarrassed grin from Aiden.

"Sorry, I probably shouldn't have asked that," he said.

"It's a fair question, I suppose," she replied with more confidence. "I was nervous at first, but he was a gentle lover—"

"I really don't need to know the details," Aiden interrupted her, regretting his poor attempt at humour.

"Be careful what you ask for," she advised him with a smile that quickly faded. "Sometimes, afterward, he'd have terrible dreams and awaken in a cold sweat. I knew some of what he went through during our time in Stonegaard, but I don't think he's told me everything... and its eating him up inside."

"He told me he'd made a mess of things," Aiden mused aloud. "He said, 'I had to do terrible things. Things I can never take back.' Any idea what he might have been talking about?"

"There were times when he was away from the rest of us," Nellise said after a moment's thought. "Anything could have happened. I will ponder this, and see if I can wrest more information out of him in my own, subtle way. Anyway, I'm starving. Thank you for the chance to talk a little, Aiden."

"Anytime, Nel," Aiden replied with a reassuring smile. He was about to follow her back to the camp when he noticed Criosa approaching. He ignored the faster beating of his heart at the sight of her and tried to keep things professional. It wasn't working very well.

"Well, this is all rather exciting, isn't it?" she beamed, rubbing her hands together to warm them.

"I take it this is your first time on the road like this?" Aiden observed shrewdly.

"Of course," she admitted. "Father would never permit me to go traipsing around the countryside with the intention of battling dragons and whatnot. But it's certainly a thrilling experience, riding through the countryside, facing the prospect of danger and such."

"Yes, very exciting," Aiden drawled. He'd had enough excitement for one lifetime.

"Well, listen to you, Mister 'I've done all this before,'" Criosa chided him with a sly grin.

"You seem to have forgotten what it was actually like, being in a battle," Aiden reminded her. "Culdeny was no picnic." This struck a chord with the flighty woman, whose smile vanished as she recalled her kidnapping and subsequent rescue.

"Yes, I remember," she offered soberly. "But my country and my father need all they help they can get, and I won't let my fears control my actions. By helping to rally support amongst our allies, I am doing my part to aid in our defence. I must admit, heading out on the road this time, fully prepared, makes a world of difference. I speak of facing down challenges, testing one's mettle against the rigors of the road and of course, the romance of the whole adventure."

"Romance?" Aiden asked with a raised eyebrow. "I hadn't really thought of it that way before. Perhaps I was distracted by all the blood and danger."

"Nonsense," Criosa retorted, "I've read many novels about this sort of thing. Young, beautiful people thrust together due to circumstances beyond their control and finding love in a world gone mad."

"I think your knowledge on this subject might be just a little bit... entirely wrong," Aiden advised delicately. He hadn't forgotten who he was talking to, after all.

"I've studied this extensively and romance is a central theme on this sort of caper," Criosa assured him with a subtle grin. He suppressed a smile and gazed at the distant city as the stars came out with the fading of the light.

"So... you think there's definitely some sort of romance in the future for us?"

"Oh, absolutely," Criosa nodded enthusiastically. "I'd keep my eyes peeled, if I were you, as you never know when something good might come along." She gave him a subtle nudge in the ribs with her elbow and Aiden chuckled, glad that the dim light hid his bright red face.

"Perhaps we should have something to eat?" he advised with an abrupt change of topic. "We still have a long ride ahead of us, and we need to keep our strength up."

"Quite so, Sir Aiden," Criosa beamed, taking his arm and leading him back to camp for a hot meal.

* * *

The fine weather of the previous day had vanished by morning, and when Aiden and his companions set out once more, a heavy fog had rolled in to obscure the trail. It was slow going as they continued to ascend, with visibility reduced to a few yards for most of the day. The traffic was no help either, for many of the wagons ahead of them were fully laden and Aiden believed he could walk faster.

There was one high point of the day, however. Once they cleared the fog, the sky became a clear blue and the view over the top of the clouds below was astonishing, almost as if the majestic peaks were floating on a sea of vapour.

After a frustrating day of travel, they finally arrived at Auchlevie, a village nestled between the great peaks. It was a small community centred on a large inn named after the village itself, showing a distinct lack of imagination on the part of its owner. There were a number of wagons parked to the side of the inn, yet the majority of the merchants they had travelled with were continuing onward, hoping to make the city before nightfall.

There were still a couple of hours remaining before the sun sank in the west, but Aiden was weary and saddle-sore from the slow journey. His discomfort paled in comparison to Sayana's, who collapsed to the ground when Robert brought his horse to a halt. The mercenary had a faint grin on his face as he dismounted, though he had the good grace to help her back on her feet without comment.

"I can't go on," she informed the others with a stifled groan. "I need a night to recover."

"You're not alone in that regard," Aiden muttered, his thighs burning as he dismounted. Pacian leaned against the side of his horse, apparently also feeling the worse for wear.

"I had hoped to make it to Stonegaard and speak with King Sulinus before the day's end," Criosa remarked, "but I suppose we can stay here for the night instead of the city."

"It's less than an hour from here," Nellise suggested. "If you're willing to go on, I will accompany you while our companions rest up."

"It will be hard enough convincing the dwarves to mobilize on short notice without delaying it further," Criosa said thoughtfully. "Very well, you and I shall ride on, and return in the morning to continue our journey. If you think you can manage without us for a night," she added.

"I don't know how I'll get by with two less people oppressing me, but I'll manage," Robert replied sarcastically as he strode towards the inn, flipping a coin to a short dwarven lad, who immediately went to stable his horse.

"Seriously, keep an eye on him," Nellise advised after he had gone through the door. "We all know how dangerous he can be."

"I'll get him drunk," Pacian suggested tiredly. "That'll make him easy to deal with."

"All right, just go easy on the drink yourself," Criosa advised. "I need you sharp and ready for tomorrow. We shall see you early in the morning." With that, the two ladies rode onwards through the village towards the distant city.

Aiden made sure his horse was being cared for, and then followed the others into the inviting confines of the Auchlevie Inn. The warmth of the hearth flooded over him as he stepped out of the cold, a welcome relief from the bitter conditions outside.

The establishment was half full of travellers and locals, all of whom were enjoying the rich food and drink on offer. Within minutes, he was seated at a table and eating his fill, alongside Pacian and Sayana.

Robert sat by himself a few tables away. He showed a distinct lack of interest in his surroundings, seemingly resigned to his fate. Aiden still harboured a great deal of resentment towards the man, though Robert's quiet conduct throughout the last two days had given him something to think about.

Aiden and his two friends spoke of idle things over their meal, for they were all too tired for prolonged conversation and after they were done, Sayana excused herself and retired for the night. Pacian laid his eyes on the bar, and Aiden recalled his earlier plan.

"Do you still want to get Robert drunk?" he asked softly so as not to be overheard.

"That was to get him docile," Pacian replied. "He looks plenty docile to me, and there's a bottle of brandy with my name on it." Pacian made his way to the bar and tossed a coin onto the bench.

"Ah, my one true love," he sighed as he opened the bottle of expensive brandy and poured himself a glass. Aiden watched with concern as his friend slipped into the strong drink, mindful of Pacian's father and his problems. Aiden had raised this with Pacian before and received a testy response, so he kept quiet this time and resigned himself to a quiet evening by the fire. He was tempted to retire to his room and read more from the Lexicon, but he had become tired of ceaseless study over the past few weeks, so he came up with another idea.

"May I join you?" Aiden asked Robert, who glanced up at him suspiciously.

"By yourself?" he asked. "Are you sure you don't need backup in case I attack you with a loaf of bread?"

"Pacian can help, in a pinch."

"The only thing that kid can help himself to is a slow death from the bottle," Robert remarked caustically. "What about your little red-haired friend?"

"After two days of riding, I don't think we'll be seeing her for the rest of the evening," Aiden said.
"Good. She makes my eye socket itch," Robert muttered, kicking out a chair for Aiden to sit on. "Are you going to interrogate me, or just lecture me on the error of my ways?"

"I was curious what brought you to Fairloch, knowing what you'd face," Aiden explained. "I also thought you'd make better conversation than Pacian right now. What did you mean by that 'slow death' remark?"

Robert didn't answer right away. He reached into his dark longcoat and retrieved a cigar from an inner pocket. Leaning over towards the fireplace, he picked up a taper from a small canister and lit it, then brought it up to the end of the cigar. He took a few puffs, and the distinctive, pungent aroma of pipe weed began to issue from his mouth.

"Back at the plateau," the mercenary mentioned casually, "I happened to overhear what Nellise said about him. I don't have all the details of what's gone on around here lately, but I can see the scars on his face — the ones that leave a mark on the inside, if you know what I mean. Whatever that kid's gone through almost broke him.

"I've seen it before in young men who've been through one too many battles. He's seen too much, maybe even done some things he can't live with. Either way, he's drinking that brandy like a man looking to make the bad dreams go away." Aiden didn't need to turn around to know Robert's observation was correct.

"Let us worry about that," Aiden advised coldly, drawing a shrug from the scarred man.

"Didn't say I was worried," Robert said, grinning mirthlessly as he puffed smoke in Aiden's direction. "What about you? You went from a simple country boy, to the saviour of Culdeny, to one of the youngest knight's Aielund has seen all in the span of a few months. I know you had to do a lot of killing to make that happen, kid. Are you telling me it doesn't keep you up at night?"

"A lot of things keep me awake," Aiden replied dryly, "but killing bad people trying to do bad things makes me sleep like a baby."

"Does your perky little princess know that?" Robert chided him, leaning forward on his elbows to stare at Aiden, eye-to-eye. "Not that I think it'd matter, mind you — she's got stars in her eyes for you, have no doubt about it. You could kill a hundred men — if you haven't already — and she'd think you're a bloody hero. Do you know what the difference between you and me is? I don't pretend killing makes me a better man. I get the job done, yet somehow, killing men on the field of battle gets you knighted."

"Do you really need me to educate you on why that is?" Aiden retorted.

"I think it's because you're killing in her name," Robert continued without skipping a beat. "You didn't do it for money, or fame, or even a title, but somewhere along the way you made a choice to fight her battles. Do you love her? Not in a 'loyal subject' sort of way either, I mean proper love."

"I'm not sure," Aiden replied after a moment to consider. "I haven't known her very long and yes, I'm sure that my efforts to rescue her on more than one occasion have swayed her feelings for me. Sometimes she's just a cheeky, spoilt girl, but other times..."

"She's a princess, born to rule people like you and me," Robert finished for him. "Let me spell it out for you. Criosa needs to marry a prince, and she needs to start having babies right away, because if the king dies while he's at war and Criosa is killed or injured on this little expedition she insisted on joining, that's the end of the Roebec line."

"So, your point is that she can't be interested in me, because her first priority is to secure the throne for her family," Aiden finished succinctly.

"You're a toy, a diversion while she waits to meet whomever her father wants to marry her off to," Robert said, leaning back in his chair and puffing on his cigar. "She might be having fun with all that flirting, but nothing serious can happen between you, and she knows it."

Aiden didn't reply, for Robert's words had struck a chord with him. His feelings for Criosa were indeed mixed. The resulting complications from a dalliance with the sole heir to the throne put her seemingly harmless flirting in a new light. Seeking to regain the offensive in the conversation, Aiden abruptly changed topic.

"That's a nasty scar you have there," he observed. "It's a pity that relic didn't save your eye as well as your life." Robert gazed at him shrewdly, a half-smile on his lips.

"It was the best money I ever spent," he replied. "The man who sold it to me didn't inform me of any specifics on how it worked, mind you. Still, I'm alive, and that's what counts."

"What happened to you on that day, when we left you on the battlefield?" Aiden asked, leaning forward with genuine interest. Robert's smile faded as he thought back to that time.

"You mean after that bloody sorceress fell from the sky and almost took my head off? After your blond friend shoved his knife into my neck? After you left me to die?"

"Yes, roughly around then," Aiden clarified with just a little sarcasm.

"I vaguely remember bleeding out," Robert explained in a hollow voice, "and I was cold... so cold. The pain went away and I felt peace for a moment, but only a moment. A shock went through my body, and I felt my heart restart and begin pounding away. The worst of my wounds closed, and clarity returned."

"I was still a wreck and my left eye was completely gone. I could hear Azurefang fighting the defenders of Culdeny and I thought for a moment we might actually win. When she fled, I knew I had to get out of there. So, I ran to the east, hoping to reconnect with some of my second line reserves, but you and yours had seen to it that none were left."

"Sorry for the inconvenience," Aiden drawled.

"I kept going," Robert continued with a level stare. "The weather took a turn for the worse and I had no supplies, but I had to keep moving. I dropped my armour and travelled for another day before I reached Azurefang back in the mountain pass, and thought I'd finally made it."

"The bitch didn't lift a claw to help me," the mercenary growled bitterly. "I was supposed to eliminate the town defenders and give her a clear run to burn Culdeny to the ground, but since I'd failed, she'd suffered for it at the hands of those archers and that damned ship that showed up out of nowhere."

"She must have been angry with you, to say the least," Aiden remarked. "How are you still alive?"

"Azurefang may be crazy, but she has a code, and she follows it to the letter," Robert explained, drawing a long breath on the cigar. "Part of the arrangement was that she wouldn't harm me in any way, but it never said anything about her helping me directly, either. So, she sat back and licked her wounds, while I staggered past, starving to death."

"I'm really trying, but I just can't seem to generate any sympathy for you," Aiden sneered.

"Didn't ask for any," Robert said with a shrug. "Anyway, somehow, I managed to keep moving for another day, until I collapsed near a frozen river. The next thing I knew, I was lying in a warm bed in some monastery in the mountains, my wounds healed."

"The Keepers of the Light," Aiden recalled. "I think they were obligated to assist you, even if they did realise who you were and what you had done."

"Lucky me," Robert replied dryly. "No, I actually mean that — I spent the last couple of months with them, hiding out as my scars healed, both physically and mentally. The abbot had some interesting observations to make concerning my character, which I ignored at first. The thing about being stuck in a monastery in the mountains is you've got a lot of time to think."

"So, you came back to civilisation a reformed man, ready to make amends for his sordid past?" Aiden chided. "Please tell me you don't think we're that naïve."

"I had fully intended to count my blessings and walk away," Robert continued in a measured voice. "Not many people get a second chance, certainly not in my line of work. Then something happened that opened my eyes."

"One night, a platoon of dwarven soldiers came staggering into the monastery, beat-up and bloodied from a major battle. I didn't need to hear any details to know they'd just come from fighting the dragon. I kept well hidden when I saw that a few of your friends were in amongst them, because I knew exactly how they'd react if I showed my face."

"Seeing that group of soldiers made me realise the consequences of my actions were ongoing, and it was affecting people and families I'd never expected to." When Robert had finished speaking, a thought occurred to Aiden.

"I don't know how many true healers the Keepers have in their ranks, but Nellise mentioned they were still able to treat a couple dozen wounded dwarves well enough," Aiden said to the mercenary. "They could have had you back on your feet within a few days of arriving. If you knew the dragon was such a problem, why have you waited until now to do something about it? If you're so sure she'll just fly away at your command, why haven't you done it already?"

"Because the moment I release her from the contract, I'm pretty sure she's going to eat me," Robert explained dourly. "She's harbouring a powerful resentment after the disaster at Culdeny, and she's just biding her time until I show up, and if I delay much longer, she's likely to just hunt me down anyway. And yes, she knows I'm still alive. She has some sort of magic that lets her know."

He speaks of a blood contract, Salinder confirmed in Aiden's mind.

"So, you either needed an army, or a group of people that have faced off against dragons before to save your backside," Aiden stated coldly. "You twisted the truth of this, Black — we might have to fight Azurefang after all."

You will not, Salinder growled, but Aiden ignored it.

"Maybe," Robert responded. "One way or another, she'll be gone and the pass will be clear. I know you probably won't believe this, but it matters to me that I clean up my mess. Those monks at the monastery have been through a lot worse in their lives and yet managed to swallow their pride and make up for past mistakes in acts of charity and the like. I freely admit, it was a bad move on my part to get involved with Bartlett and the North Shore Trading Company, but I plan to make things right, somehow... if you'll let me."

"Alright, I've heard enough," Pacian snarled suddenly as he swaggered over to their table from his place at the bar. "I've been listening to you bleat on about this and that, with no bloody idea what you're talking about. Do you even realise what you did, attacking Culdeny like that? You and that crazy bitch dragon of yours killed hundreds of people."

"Easy, Pace," Aiden counselled.

"Shut up, Aiden," his inebriated friend snapped. Glancing over at the bottle of brandy, Aiden was astonished to see it less than half full already. Some of the nearby patrons, mostly stout, bearded dwarven men, turned to find out what the commotion was about. "You honestly think you can make amends for everything you've done, Black? How many years have you been a mercenary? How many?"

"If you think I'm going to help your argument—" Robert asserted, but was cut off by Pacian.

"Twenty years? Twenty-five?" he persisted, staggering closer to the table. "I'd wager you have no idea how many innocents you've killed in your bloody campaigns." Robert slowly stood up, his eye locked on Pacian with unflinching intensity.

"I wasn't suggesting I'm a changed man, only that I can direct my efforts in more constructive ways," Robert growled as he moved around the table to face Pacian directly. "Mercenaries may be the lowest rung of military life, but that life's my own. Bartlett convinced me attacking Culdeny was going to pay off and like a fool, I listened. I won't make that mistake again — you've got my word on that."

"You think you're a soldier?" Pacian drawled, his words slurring more by the minute. More dangerously, one of his hands was slowly moving towards the daggers on his belt. "A man of honour? How can you stand to look at yourself in the mirror after all the lives you've taken! You're a bloody murdering bastard, Black, nothi—" Pacian's accusation was abruptly cut of as Robert's clenched fist thundered into his face, sending Pacian crashing through some chairs stacked in the corner and sprawling onto the hardwood floor.

Aiden immediately went to his aid and quickly discovered he was out cold. The tension in the tavern was palpable, with many of the dwarves reaching towards concealed weapons. Robert stood his ground, levelling a stare at everyone present in case they had the same intentions as Pacian.

"I'll tolerate being called a lot of things," he said, "but I'm no murderer. When your friend wakes up, tell him the next time he accuses me of being something I ain't, I'll put him out of his misery for good." With that, the mercenary stalked off upstairs to retire for the evening, leaving Aiden to clean up the mess. Try as he might however, he couldn't help be impressed by what Robert had spoken of that evening.

Chapter Four

Pacian was slumped over the saddle of his horse the next day as they slowly rode through the mountains. He was also sporting an impressive black eye, a legacy of his confrontation with Robert last night. Aiden wasn't privy to the conversation Nellise had with Pacian shortly after arriving at the inn that morning, but the stony silence between them spoke volumes.

Nobody else seemed concerned about Robert punching Pacian in the face, least of all the patrons of the tavern who, when asked, all agreed that the drunken fool had asked for it.

Criosa was elated upon her return from Stonegaard that morning. She and Nellise had arranged for complete co-operation from the dwarves, who had a reputation for being difficult to deal with at the best of times. In spite of this new spirit of camaraderie, King Sulinus had only promised a thousand soldiers to the cause, the vast number of them siege engineers and support staff. Having little idea what they would face, the king could promise no more.

"I should tell the others that we may have to fight," Aiden muttered to Salinder, keeping his voice low to avoid attracting attention.

We will not, the sword answered. Tell them nothing.

"Can you be one hundred percent certain, that you can make her leave without spilling a drop of blood?" Aiden pressed. Salinder paused to consider this before answering.

I am ninety percent sure my plan will work, it said, confirming Aiden's suspicion.

"Then you need to be prepared to help us fight, because if we all die facing her today, your quest to destroy the Ironlord fails as well."

I will consider your words, Salinder responded, sounding more subdued. The weather was fine and clear for most of the day, although the wind was unrelenting. Aiden and his companions made every effort to rest their horses, and only rarely rode them at a canter. The highway was little more than a clear path through the rocky surroundings, with treacherous ground hidden beneath the snow.

As the sun was beginning to set, they began to look for a place to make camp. They had arrived at a magnificent vista, where a once-great river had carved its way through the surrounding rock over many years. The highway ahead of them descended back and forth along the side of the valley until it reached a sturdy bridge.

Although he wasn't certain, Aiden thought he could hear a faint noise in the distance, not unlike singing. It was the only thing he could hear, for the valley before them was almost completely silent, save for the soft murmur of the distant waters.

"The Valley of Silence," Criosa remarked as she took in the beautiful scene. "I can think of no better place to set up camp."

"I can," Robert muttered, drawing her attention. "We're close to the monastery I stayed at for the past few weeks. They're poor company, unless you're into discipline and silent contemplation, but they allow travellers in distress to stay for a while. I, for one, would prefer to sleep on a proper bed, even if the mattress is wafer thin."

"I second the motion," Aiden added.

"Getting soft in your old age?" Pacian remarked sarcastically.

"You want a proper bed just as much as I do — you just don't want to be seen agreeing with Robert," Aiden pointed out. The mercenary laughed quietly at this — much to Pacian's annoyance — and looked to Criosa for her opinion.

"Very well," she agreed. "You're making entirely too much sense Mister Black, and it's becoming increasingly difficult to hate you. Nonetheless, I shall do my level best to continue treating you with disdain. Nellise, lead us to this monastery."

"With pleasure, Criosa," Nellise replied with a half-smile as she guided her horse off the path in the direction of the chanting. Robert glowered at Criosa briefly, until Sayana reminded him of her presence with a flash of flame in front of his face.

The company rode parallel to the river below, until the warm glow of light shining from the monastery's narrow windows could be seen. It was a tall structure, not unlike the cathedral in Fairloch, but far more austere. Its soaring pinnacles seemed more like a fort's towers than the architectural flourishes one would expect, giving the entire building a mundane appearance. Still, the smoke rising from its chimney hinted at the warmth Robert had spoken of.

An old stable on the north side of the monastery was empty, but would offer the horses shelter for the night. After they had unpacked their mounts, a man wearing a simple, thick brown hooded robe approached, the hood covering his head and a flaming torch held in one hand. He seemed unremarkable in most respects, but for a short grey beard with an unusual cut covering his lower chin only.

"Greetings," he announced sternly. "Am I to assume you wish to obtain lodging for the night? This is not an inn. Travellers are not ordinarily welcomed here."

"Brother Owen," Robert replied in a familial tone. "They've got you on night watch again?" The monk, evidently named Brother Owen, smiled in recognition as he looked upon the mercenary.

"Robert, I had not thought to see you again so soon. You are of course welcome to abide here for a time. Who are your associates?"

"Remember those people I was telling you about?" Robert reminded the monk. "Well, here they are." Owen held his torch higher and looked over the group with appraising eyes.

"It would appear your plan to make amends is bearing fruit, my friend," Owen said to Robert a moment later. "I suspect your associates are not altogether pleased with your continued existence, however."

"We're really just a big, happy family," Pacian mocked with a hollow grin.

"We could really use a place to rest for the night," Robert said, ignoring his remark.

"Then I offer all of you the simple shelter of our monastery," Owen replied smoothly. "Follow me, and I will find lodgings for you."

"Thank you for your hospitality," Criosa thanked him as they started to leave the stable. Aiden, however, had other plans.

"I'll head inside after I've tended to the horses," he informed the others.

"Are you sure?" Criosa asked curiously. "I'm happy to have Robert take care of all that." Aiden waved her away, ignoring Roberts annoyed glance, and started to unsaddle the horses. When he glanced around and saw he was finally alone, Aiden put a hand on the hilt of his sword.

"Salinder, are you there?" he asked in a tight whisper.

Where would I go? came the rather curt reply within Aiden's mind.

"This is the first chance we've had to talk privately, and I've got a few questions that need answering," he explained as he started to brush down the fine coat on his horse. "What are you going to do that will make her leave without fighting?"

I will influence her mind to ensure a peaceful resolution, Salinder assured him.

"Is her insanity likely to get in the way of that?" Aiden inquired dryly.

You should speak of her with more respect. She was once a proud creature who soared through the skies of Feydwiir with impunity. The culling of my kind by humanity had been ongoing for many decades, and one day when she returned to her clutch of young, Azurefang found her offspring butchered and skinned. That is what shattered her mind. Your civilisation is merely reaping what was sown by your ancestors.

"I'm sorry," Aiden whispered, pausing for a moment to consider this revelation. "I didn't realise."

I can deal with her, as long as you remain calm during the confrontation.

"Can you be more specific?" Aiden prompted.

When the time comes, stand with Robert Black as he speaks with her and I will do the rest.

"And if it goes badly?" Aiden pressed, brushing a little too hard for his horse's liking and receiving a tail in his face for his trouble.

I will slay her myself, came the reply Aiden had been wanting to hear.

"That's more like it. There's something else I want to ask. Weeks ago, you showed me a dream of dragons chasing me for the Lexicon. Vindictus could smell it on me — is Azurefang likely to sense its presence as well?"

Such relics emit a distinct odor dragons can smell, Salinder explained patiently. Relics created by the ancient ones are detectable in this fashion, but you should be more concerned about that gauntlet you bear. I could smell it from five miles away, such is its power. To allay your fears, Azurefang does not seek these relics personally, but the memory of those who once wore them is deep within our minds, and she will fear you.

"I hope so, or we're likely to have to kill her, or die trying," Aiden muttered, moving on to the next horse. "You said there were other dragons remaining on Feydwiir — are they all likely to give us trouble?"

Many of my brethren have been sleeping away the years, Salinder responded, but they awaken now as the Ironlord walks amongst us again. Aiden paused in his grooming duties as he was struck by a revelation.

"It was made by the same people who built the Lexicon, and this gauntlet," he breathed, looking at the ancient relic on his right hand.

Correct. My kind will awaken and seek the means to fight it. The Lexicon is a repository of ancient lore and provides the best chance of understanding how such artifice functions.

"Do I need to worry about them coming for me?"

"Are you speaking to me, sir?" a short, dwarven monk said from the entrance to the stables, startling Aiden. The monk was carrying a large bag of oats over one shoulder, and a large water skin over the other. He was bald, and his beard was heavily plaited.

"Sorry, no, I was just talking to myself," Aiden blurted, trying to cover his embarrassment.

"You've come to the right place for that," the monk chuckled, heaving the oats to the floor and proceeding to pour the water into a nearby trough. Aiden held his silence, continuing to move amongst the horses until the dwarf had completed his task and left him alone once more.

As I have explained, Aiden, my kind is on the brink of extinction. Salinder continued. I am reluctant to speed this tragedy by helping you slay more of us. There is one exception to this, however. Whereas the others either hide or attempt to manipulate humanity, one of my cousins is actively engaged in a war with you.

He is known amongst humans is Leviachon the Destroyer, and should we be unfortunate enough to encounter him in our travels, I will help you slay him. He considers the culling of our kind over the centuries to be an act of war and he attempted to organise all of dragon-kind to obliterate humanity completely, Salinder explained.

We refused to consider the genocide of your race an option, so he has been doing it on his own ever since. His power and size rivalled my own at my peak, and his command of magic is equally formidable. Combined with his cunning intellect, he is a force of destruction in central Feydwiir.

"If he's as powerful as you say," Aiden whispered, "perhaps we could convince him to join our cause? If nothing else, he might be able to banish the Ironlord back to the Aether once more."

He would do nothing to aid us, Salinder warned. Only one thing has restrained him from conquering the entire island. For half a millennium, he has been collecting artifacts similar to your gauntlet, storing them at a secret location with a mind to using them against Feydwiir. He has been unable to understand their workings however, and is forced to fall back on his own formidable powers to conduct his war.

"He needs the Lexicon to unlock their secrets," Aiden remarked, suddenly understanding what Salinder was talking about. "What happens if he gets his claws on it?"

Mankind would enter an age of darkness, Salinder intoned ominously. Under no circumstances are you to allow the Lexicon to fall into his clutches.

"Yeah, I think that's a good plan," Aiden mumbled as he finished up the last horse. He was starting to regret asking so many questions — the term "ignorance is bliss" crossed his mind. Another thought occurred to him as he left the stables. "You know, I've heard you hint at things from your past, but you've never really explained why you're helping me, and the Kingdom." Silence ensued as Aiden patiently waited for a reply that did not come, leaving him to ponder what could have driven the ancient dragon to sacrifice all, to work with his enemies.

Aiden hurried inside, closing the heavy door behind him and silently revelling in the relative warmth of the open space of the monastery. This was definitely an improvement over sleeping out in the cold, which of course meant Robert had proven his value to the group once more. If he kept this up, Aiden might have to start trusting him and he really didn't want to go down that road. The man simply had too much blood on his hands, regardless of how it got there.

The monastery was quiet, save for the crackle of flames coming from large fire pits along the walls and the soft murmurs of hushed conversation nearby. Aiden could see Nellise and Pacian speaking with a robed raelani of advancing years. He was bald, with a sharp nose and sharper brown eyes that exuded a sense of inner contentment.

"You must be mistaken," Nellise said to the monk in a voice little more than a whisper as Aiden walked over to find out what was going on. "I was knighted by Princess Criosa and inducted into the Order of the Rose Eagle. I had been given the option of coming here and joining the Keepers, but it was never a serious consideration."

"I am sorry, Dame Nellise," the little monk said evenly, "but Archon Cain was quite adamant about bringing you here. Upon learning of your arrival, I assumed you had accepted his offer to join our order."

"I have the utmost respect for what your order stands for, Abbot," Nellise continued diplomatically. "It was not however, a path I would choose to take at this point in my life."

"The Church felt differently about that, did it not?" the abbot asked pointedly. "To break the oaths of your order so completely required some disciplinary action, the least of which was your expulsion. I see you are now caparisoned for war. Have you abandoned your faith so completely?"

"Never," Nellise said coldly. "I dispute the idea that faith and martial prowess are in conflict. Archon Cain was... incorrect in assuming I would join the Keepers for believing in that philosophy, and if he were alive today, I would—"

"He is no longer with us?" the abbot interrupted.

"The inquisitor perished some time ago," Nellise explained. "It is thought he died at the hands of the assassins and traitors who attempted to usurp the crown."

"That's right," Pacian agreed. "There were a bunch of those thugs moving through the city and he probably ran into them."

"Was he alone?" the abbot inquired curiously.

"His body was discovered in the aqueducts, alone," Nellise confirmed.

"Curious, as the archon informed me he was hiring a dozen local strongmen to assist him while in the city," the raelani mused. "Were their bodies discovered also?"

"Nope," Pacian answered with a shrug. "That's the problem with hired help — they're unreliable. They probably took his money and left him to die."

"I do recall that Valennia, rest her soul, encountered a group of ruffians near the Fair Maiden Inn on the night we returned," Nellise said, struggling to recall the specifics. "They apparently attacked her without provocation and she killed every last one of them as a result."

"They were just common thugs, I reckon," Pacian suggested.

"Why would common thugs, with poor weapons and no protection, attack an armoured warrior?" Nellise protested. "That's something that has bothered me ever since it happened. They never stood a chance and I have to believe that as the only Akoran in Fairloch at the time, her reputation preceded her."

"We'll probably never know," Pacian insisted.

"Alas, you're right," Nellise sighed. "So much was happening back then, it was difficult to keep track of it all. I'm sorry, abbot, but I have no further information regarding the demise of Archon Cain."

"I understand, and I appreciate your candour," the monk replied. "You're tired from your journey, so I will leave you to get some rest. From what Robert tells me, you will need it."

"We appreciate the accommodation," Nellise said as he bowed and walked away.

"That sounded awkward," Aiden remarked as he made his presence known.

"Oh, just a misunderstanding," Nellise assured him, although her brow was ever so slightly creased in thought. "You look cold, Aiden. There's some soup over there you can warm yourself up with."

Aiden headed in the direction she had gestured, noticing Pacian's worried expression as he went. Aiden didn't show it, but he too was secretly worried about the impending confrontation with the dragon, although a nagging voice in the back of his mind told him that wasn't what had his old friend so concerned.

* * *

After a sleepless night, Aiden and the others ate a simple breakfast of porridge and fruit provided by the monks, before setting out just after dawn. Despite Salinder's assurances, Aiden wasn't thrilled with the prospect of standing before Azurefang and hoping she wouldn't simply devour them on the spot.

As the sun rose above the horizon, the sky cleared and revealed beautiful scenery amidst the mountains, with sunlight sifting through the morning fog and reflecting from snow covering the ground. A river gentley cascaded through the lowest point of the land, and the whole area was eerily quiet.

They made good time through the picturesque valley, ascending the other side in roughly two hours before Robert called for a halt on a plateau which revealed a breathtaking view of the surrounding lands.

"This is close enough," he muttered to the others, who brought their horses to a standstill around him. They stood in the middle of the highway, deep in the heart of the Stonegaard Mountains where the snow was still thick upon the ground.

The mercenary dismounted and handed the reins to Sayana, who appeared nervous and unsure of herself sitting alone on the back of the huge stallion. Aiden also climbed down, knowing it was time.

"I'm still unconvinced that we should stay behind," Criosa protested.

"This isn't a guaranteed win," Aiden replied. "The dragon is likely to know the scent of Pacian and Sayana, and I see no point in risking your life without good reason."

"Then why are you going?" she asked.

"One of us has to keep an eye on Robert," Aiden explained, omitting the fact that Salinder had a backup plan.

"How will we know when you are successful?" Criosa asked, the tension audible in her voice.

"When we get back and tell you," Robert said with a shrug. "You'll probably hear us screaming if things don't go well, in which case, I'd run if I were you. Come on, let's get this over with." Aiden turned to follow the mercenary, hoping that they weren't walking to their deaths. The two men trudged through the snow, unable to bring the horses along for fear they would bolt at the first sight of the dragon.

"This didn't really go according to your plan, did it?" Aiden pointed out to Robert after they'd lost sight of their companions.

"Maybe, but it's not over yet," Robert answered.

"And if we're killed here today?"

"We've all got to go sometime," the mercenary replied, pausing a moment to look out over the landscape. "If this helps me atone, then perhaps some good will come of it after all." Aiden looked at him with the realisation that here, facing the possibility of death, Robert was still prepared to go through with it in spite of the risk. There was no longer any doubt in Aiden's mind that the mercenary had indeed undergone a profound change in recent months, and there just might be something left of his soul to salvage.

The first sign they were entering the domain of the dragon came when they saw a pile of snow and rock almost completely blocking the road ahead. A path had been cut through the ice, matching the description Sayana had given them. Looking carefully, Aiden could see frozen arms and legs jutting out, some of which had been bitten off completely. Robert exchanged a knowing glance with Aiden as they tried to ignore the remains of the company of dwarven warriors that had attempted to face Azurefang.

Aiden felt his heart pounding in his chest as they squeezed through the narrow gap in the icy barricade, searching for signs of the dragon. Once they emerged from the other side, the way ahead seemed clear and for a fleeting moment, Aiden thought she might have abandoned the highway after all.

On a hunch, he squinted and looked at the world with his arcane sight, hoping to see any signs of magic in the area. The place seemed normal, but he pushed his vision further still and saw the shape of the dragon come into view, a hazy blue shape of immense proportions against the dark background.

When Aiden's eyes locked onto the sight of the dragon, she instantly knew she had been spotted and slammed one of her huge claws into the ground behind them, blocking any retreat. The scene of empty land warped and twisted as her invisibility spell ended, revealing the dragon sitting there, glaring down at them with her blazing blue eyes.

Did you think you would simply walk right past without attracting any attention? the clear, feminine voice of the dragon boomed in Aiden's mind. You stink of ancient evils that cavort and caper through my mind.

Her azure-scaled body was thin and serpentine, with jutting spikes along her back which tapered off to a point nearly a hundred feet away. She was nearly twice the size of Vindictus, with glistening blue scales covering most of her body. Azurefang was beautiful and deadly in equal measure.

Do nothing, say nothing, Salinder instructed him. Aiden had no trouble following those orders.

"Mighty Azurefang," Robert intoned formally, his voice quivering slightly. "We do not come here seeking conflict, but to parley with you." The eye on the side of the great head snapped its terrible focus onto the mercenary, who somehow managed to remain calm under her unrelenting gaze.

Robert Black, she growled, the talons on her claw twitching with anticipation.

"Yes, it was I who asked you to come here and burn the town to the west," Robert nodded. "I was the one who gave you a mountain of gold to add to your hoard."

You also said the town would be helpless, Azurefang purred dangerously. You lied. They stung me with their arrows.

"I was mistaken, Great One," Robert corrected her, bowing his head low. "You still caused carnage and sowed terror in the hearts of men."

I do enjoy sowing terror, Azurefang conceded. But it has been almost entirely carnage-free since then — why did you not release me from our agreement? I have done everything I said I would, longer than I said I would do it. You have imposed upon my legendary virtue, black one.

"The task was not yet complete," Robert informed her, "but I have come to let you know your service is now at an end."

The dragon purred a low growl that vibrated the ground, and a moment later a claw lashed forward and knocked Robert over. It slammed down, pinning him completely in a cage of razor-sharp talons. Her serpentine head moved closer to Aiden, as if daring him to intervene.

Wait your turn, capering demon, Azurefang advised. I will deal with your lying friend before I cut you out of my mind.

"Are you going to just sit there and watch?" Aiden hissed at Salinder as Azurefang moved in to drool over Robert, who was desperately trying to free himself from the dragon's claw.

Brandish me! Salinder roared in Aiden's mind, and almost without thinking, he drew the blade and held it high. As it had back in the city, the blade shimmered with intense power as the spirit of the dragon within made its presence known, blasting back snow and ice all around him.

Right next to Aiden the form of a dragon twice the size of Azurefang materialised — Salinder, appearing as he had in Aiden's dreams from years ago, towered over his smaller cousin. There was no sign of atrophy or injury upon his magnificent golden hide, and although Aiden was certain this was some sort of illusion, it seemed absolutely real and he took an involuntary step backwards in fear.

Azurefang cowered before Salinder's might, whimpering and growling in the tongue of dragons. Salinder responded by snaking his head towards her until they were eye-to-eye, emitting a low growl that vibrated the ground. They faced off for several seconds, and Aiden wondered what would happen if she tried to fight him. Though Aiden couldn't understand their language, the meaning of Salinder's posture was clear — "leave".

Then, without another word, Azurefang spread her wings and leapt into the air, sending up billowing clouds of snow in her wake. Aiden watched as she wheeled around and flew away as fast as she could. Once she was a dot in the sky, Salinder's visage promptly vanished, leaving Aiden and Robert alone on the cold road. The mercenary got back on his feet and looked at Aiden warily.

"How the hell did you do that?" Robert growled as he dusted himself off.

"It's complicated," Aiden replied hesitantly, unsure where he would even begin.

"That's not an answer," Robert persisted. "I came here half-expecting to die, but you had some sort of magic to chase her away and didn't tell me? Was that even real, or was it some sort of illusion?"

"I'm sorry, but I couldn't tell you any more because I wasn't sure that was going to work, either," Aiden explained as he noticed Criosa, Sayana and Pacian approaching the area on horseback. Criosa had Robert's stallion by the reins, much to Sayana's apparent relief. The sorceress looked into the sky where Azurefang had departed, before turning her attention to Aiden.

"Why is there a dragon in your sword?" she asked, catching him off-guard.

She is clever, Salinder purred in Aiden's mind, and he was quite certain it wasn't a compliment.

Chapter Five

Aiden drove the sword point-first into the ground, around which he and the others gathered to listen as Salinder revealed his presence. He spoke of holding the Ironlord at bay in the Aether, bringing Aiden back to life after he was killed on the high plains of Akora, and finished with the channeling of his spirit into the sword when the Ironlord broke out of its otherworldly prison, and Salinder's plan to destroy it once and for all.

Silence fell over the group once the sword had finished speaking. Robert stood with a cigar in his mouth, the smoke wafting around in the wind as he processed this unexpected event. Pacian was the first to speak, bringing his usual knack for clarity to the discussion.

"That's the craziest thing I've ever heard," he declared. "Am I the only one who thinks it's strange that we're talking to a bloody sword?"

"The blade is merely the vessel," Sayana explained quietly. "It is the creature's spirit within that speaks to us."

"This is an astonishing development," Criosa said. "The very creature who banished the Ironlord a hundred years ago has returned to us in spirit, to aid our cause once again."

In spite of my impressive display, Salinder explained, _my time here is limited. Do not think that I will squander my remaining energies on pointless tasks. Get me to the Ironlord, and I will slay it._

"It just occured to me that we could have had this conversation before we confronted Azurefang," Robert pointed out blandly.

I wished to keep my presence hidden until I could determine your allegiances, Salinder explained. Your sorceress, in particular, required closer scrutiny.

"When I first saw you on the Aether, you attacked me," Sayana recalled. "What is it about me you fear?"

I fear nothing, Salinder growled. You bear the inscribed sigils that mark you as a weapon of the ruinous powers that used to hunt my kind for sport, and sow discord amongst the ancient peoples of Feydwiir. Everyone turned to stare in astonishment at Sayana, who was caught off guard by this sudden revelation. She looked helplessly back at Aiden, who wracked his mind to determine whether or not the information he'd gleaned from the Lexicon confirmed or denied this statement.

"I am nobody's weapon," Sayana retorted. "Never have I used my power to harm innocents, or betray the people close to me."

"The people you speak of — the ones who created this gauntlet and the Lexicon — disappeared thousands of years ago," Aiden pointed out to Salinder. "I don't have all the details, but the one thing I am absolutely certain of is that she was not born with those markings. Somebody had to engrave them onto her."

The origin is not important, Salinder insisted. Throughout history, sorcerers enhanced by such eldritch arcana have appeared in the middle of civilizations and gone berserk, destroying any and all around them at will. These people acted normally before going insane — why do you think yourself the exception?

Sayana struggled to find anything to say, leaving those ominous words hanging in the air. The prospect of her suddenly using her considerable abilities to destroy at random was difficult to believe. A feeling of unease settled over the group as everyone looked at her in a new light. Sayana lowered her eyes and allowed her hair to fall in front of her face.

I will concede you have yet to show signs of this change, the sword continued. It is possible you will be of use in the coming fight, so I make you this promise, Sayana — when you go berserk and begin killing your companions, I will see to it you are destroyed, quickly and painlessly. Now, we have wasted enough time in idle discussion. My time grows shorter by the moment.

Aiden reached out and pulled the sword from the ground and sheathed it, having heard more than enough, and silently angry with the dragon spirit for its blunt assessment. Sayana was coldly indignant and said nothing, backing away from the group to gather her thoughts.

Aiden noticed Nellise had stepped away from them too, appearing to be sanctifying the icy tomb where the fallen soldiers of Stonegaard laid. He walked over to join her, sensing something wrong and as she noticed his approach, Nellise turned to say something.

"Before you say it, yes, I now understand how you came back to life, and no, you weren't sent by God."

"I really wanted to tell you earlier but, how could I?" Aiden asked. "It sounds ridiculous, and nobody would have taken me seriously if I explained it in detail. Now you've heard it straight from the horse's mouth, so to speak. Are you okay?"

"Of course, I just..." Nellise answered hesitantly before continuing. "There is so much in the heavens and the earth that we do not understand, Aiden. Maybe this is all part of the divine plan, and maybe it isn't, but what I can tell you, is that a powerful spirit intervened to save not just you, but me, Pacian, Colt, even Criosa when you get right down to it, not to mention all the lives that would have been lost if Culdeny fell.

"What are you trying to say?" Aiden asked curiously as she finished splashing some holy water on the battlefield gravesite.

"I don't think I was far off when I said God sent you to save us. Powerful forces seek to aid our cause, and that alone should tell us that what we're doing is right. Everything that has gone before has led us to this point. The Ironlord will come, and we shall break it."

"I appreciate your confidence," Aiden remarked with a hint of a smile.

"My only real concern is Sayana," Nellise added, "because if Salinder is correct, she could be in serious danger."

"I don't want to jump to any conclusions about what she may or may not do, "Aiden suggested. "All I can say is that she's a friend and a powerful ally, and we need her. We'll deal with anything else as it arises."

"You have to admit; the sword made a compelling argument," Nellise pointed out.

"There's a sentence you'd never thought you'd say," Aiden remarked, drawing a brief laugh from her. "Come on, let's get back on the road."

Nellise nodded then put away her things and went back to her horse, while Aiden went to check on Sayana. Robert was already there, and the two of them seemed to be having a quiet but fierce discussion about something.

"You're not helping," Sayana said to the mercenary as Aiden approached.

"There's no comforting some people," Robert grunted, throwing the butt of his cigar onto the ground as he glanced at Aiden before heading for his horse.

"Whatever he said, he's dead wrong," Aiden assured the sorceress. "You can ride with me if you want. Robert's clearly not looking to cause us any problems, besides making insensitive remarks."

"But if Salinder is right about me—"

"He's not," Aiden interrupted bluntly. "You're not some kind of weapon about to go off and destroy everything around us."

"But if he is," Sayana insisted, brushing her hair aside, "Whoever I ride with could be the first one to die. At this point, I'd rather it was Robert. The rest of you mean too much to me."

"Whatever you think best," Aiden conceded cautiously. "For what it's worth, nothing I've read from history suggested those ancient sorcerers went crazy at a moment's notice."

"So, I've got that to look forward to then," Sayana almost sobbed. Aiden wanted to kick himself for making it worse instead of better, so he decided to cut his losses and keep them moving.

I am not wrong about her, Salinder purred in his mind.

"Shut up," Aiden growled under his breath, in no mood to hear any more about it.

Wait, there is something else, Salinder said.

"I'm not interested in your hypothesis," Aiden said as he climbed onto his saddle.

There is another dragon approaching, the sword informed him, instantly getting Aiden's attention. Do not bother looking — it is above us, amongst the clouds.

"Is Azurefang returning?" Aiden asked in alarm.

No, this dragon is smaller.

"Do you recognize it?"

No, but I suspect we will discover shortly.

"Why do you say that?"

Because it is diving straight for us, Salinder advised calmly. Aiden experienced a different reaction to this news.

"Everyone, look out — we have a dragon descending on us," he cried, looking at the skies for signs of its imminent arrival. Everyone kept a tight rein on their horses as they looked around, caught off guard at this sudden turn of events. Aiden kept looking for signs of the dragon, yet saw nothing but the turbulence of something passing through the cloud.

On a hunch, he focused his arcane sight, shifting his vision until everything appeared in shades of blue — except for anything obscured by an incantation of invisibility.

The shimmering silhouette of a dragon soared over them, heading for the ground ahead of the group, where it kicked up a cloud of snow and dirt upon landing. Aiden released his focus and allowed his vision to return to normal as the dragon became visible to the naked eye, startling their horses as it folded its wings and settled down on its haunches.

Everyone had their weapons drawn, but to Aiden's surprise, the interloper was only a small dragon, standing around ten feet in height as it sat upon the ground.

Much like the other dragons Aiden had encountered, it was sleek and serpentine in appearance. Its long jaw was filled with razor-sharp teeth and its reptilian eyes regarded them with cold indifference. This dragon's scales were different than the others — glossy and smooth, reflecting the snow around it like a mirror. Even as he watched, Aiden could see the scales change colour to blend in with its surroundings, like camouflage.

It is Spartan. Do nothing, Salinder advised calmly. Aiden wasn't sure if this was a good thing or not, but figured they could probably fight a small dragon without too much trouble. His companions had recovered from their initial alarm and managed to get their horses under control as they stared curiously at the winged creature, which began to stalk warily around them in a wide circle.

Aiden felt vulnerable as Spartan scrutinized them, taking an occasional sniff with its protruding maw. It did not seem impressed with what it saw, passing by Pacian and Nellise with indifference. The small dragon gave Sayana a piercing stare before continuing on past, and when it finally came around to Aiden, it spent a long moment examining him with its pale green eyes before sitting back on its haunches.

All who have encountered Azurefang have been destroyed, or sent back the way they came, the dragon stated in Aiden's mind. The voice was decidedly male, dry and without humour. Yet, you have not only passed by, you have somehow banished her to the skies without giving her so much as a scratch. Tell me how you accomplished this. It was not a question.

"Do you want to handle this, or should I?" Aiden asked of Salinder. There was no response from the sword, and the dragon standing not ten yards away tilted its head curiously as if listening to someone else. After several long moments, the dragon nodded its head slowly, a curiously human mannerism from such a creature. Its posture seemed to relax somewhat as it regarded Aiden with a new perspective.

You have a powerful ally within that soulsword, Aiden Wainwright, it intoned within his mind. The very fact you had a chance to slay one of my cousins, yet chose not to, bodes well for you. Had you done so, I would have been compelled to seek revenge in her name.

"If we had managed to kill a dragon five times your size, what chance do you think you would have?" Robert pointed out, the mercenary leaning forward on his horse languidly. Though he carried no weapon, this fact did nothing to diminish his casual menace.

Do not let my size mislead you, Robert Black, for I have access to powers beyond your comprehension. I have been attempting to warn away those attempting to travel here from the west, to spare their lives.

"That's very noble of you," Nellise remarked cautiously. "But she's gone, now. You can go back to whatever you were doing before Azurefang showed up."

I have been monitoring events in the southwest, the dragon explained. A being of immense power has entered to this world and its intentions are not benign. Salinder informs me you seek to destroy it, and has asked for my aid to your cause. I have accepted, to honour the sacrifice of he who was the greatest of our kind. You may call me Spartan.

"Well this is an unexpected turn of events," Criosa remarked as the tension seemed to vanish. "I am honoured that you would consider joining with my entourage. With your aid, we may yet prevail against our common enemy."

You misunderstand, Spartan said. You will all be under my command for the duration of this quest. Criosa blinked in surprise and glanced around at the others at this revelation.

"I am the daughter of King Seamus Roebec, sovereign ruler of Aielund," she intoned with her best 'I'm in charge' voice. "I am leading this expedition, and though your offer of help is appreciated, understand it is our kingdom that is under threat. I have decided to lead at this dark time, and I would ask you respect my authority."

I bow before no human, the small dragon purred within their minds, and certainly not a woman of privilege pretending to be a general. You are all little more than children, preparing to face a force that has effortlessly brought civilisations to ruin. Only one of you has the experience required to face it, and he is a man of dubious moral fibre.

"He's not wrong," Robert remarked, unfazed by the frank assessment.

"You're not helping," Sayana muttered, giving him a poke for good measure.

Continue your journey, Spartan spoke with mild condescension. I will contact you again after you have passed through Culdeny. The people there would react poorly to my presence. I will be watching. With that, the small dragon spread his wings and leaped into the air, vanishing from sight moments later as his camouflage changed to obscure him amongst the clouds.

"Smug bastard," Pacian remarked after he was sure Spartan had disappeared.

"I suppose we should be grateful," Criosa murmured with a cold glance at the sword on Aiden's belt. "What exactly did you tell him?"

That you were travelling to your doom and only his intervention would save your lands, Salinder explained evenly. Do not take offence — my colourful description was required to ensure his attention. You will need to educate him on your capabilities to earn his respect.

"Do I have yours?" Criosa asked curiously. There was no answer from the sword, leaving the question awkwardly hanging in the air. The princess, clearly offended, sheathed her rapier and stiffly turned her horse to the west, setting out at a brisk trot without another word.

Aiden wanted to have words with Salinder, but decided there was little point — the selfish ego of dragons was legendary, and having his spirit transferred into the magic sword had done little to diminish this less appealing aspect of Salinder's character.

They settled into a steady canter that ate up the miles. The road was flat and even, allowing them to keep their speed for as long as the horses could manage. By the time the sun was touching the horizon, they were nearing the western edge of the mountains, affording Aiden a splendid view of the distant sight of Culdeny. The town was still several hours away, but they resolved to continue on.

The quality of the road improved as they rode, giving the horses a chance to stretch their legs. They were lathered in sweat by the time he could see the twinkling lights coming from city as the light faded from the sky, a welcome sight after days of travel through the mountains. Thoughts of a warm, comfortable bed spurred Aiden onwards, until Robert signalled for everyone to halt.

"My horse is played out," the mercenary informed them as he stepped down. "I guess my passenger isn't as light as she looks."

"A comment about a woman's weight," Pacian remarked dryly. "That's not going to end well for you."

"We can afford a short break," Criosa said tiredly, stepping down from her horse and stretching her muscles. Aiden couldn't help but observe this procedure for a moment until he realised he was being a little obvious about it.

"Did you pick this place on purpose?" Sayana asked Robert as she alighted to the ground. He glanced at her curiously and looked at their surroundings. Aiden noticed something familiar about the place too, from the sounds of the not-too-distant sea crashing against the shore, to the swaying trees beside the road. A memory of a terrible battle flashed through his mind, and it was then Aiden recalled this was the site of the Battle of Culdeny. Robert had come to the same realisation.

"I didn't stop here consciously, but yes... this is pretty much where you killed me," he muttered.

"Oh yeah, so it is," Pacian quipped. "Do you have any profound revelations regarding mortality to share with the rest of us?"

"Nothing earthshaking, no," Robert grunted. "What the hell would I say, anyway? 'Gosh, that was unpleasant', or 'Now I've seen the error of my ways'. I didn't see any burning pitchforks, or hear angels calling for me. Sorry to disappoint."

"You don't seem too upset by your brush with death," Nellise observed. "I would have thought it'd bother you at least a little." Robert took his horse's reins and started to walk the exhausted mount towards town. The rest of them nudged their horses along to keep up with him.

"Truth be told, the defeat was more painful than the death," Black explained, sounding philosophical. "One of these days you're going to have to tell me how your hilariously unprepared little group managed to take down so many of my seasoned men."

"Faith and courage, Robert," Nellise advised him with quiet reverence.

"Don't give me that 'we won because we're righteous' nonsense," the mercenary snapped, glaring over his shoulder at Nellise. "I've seen zealots spouting those sentiments cause the worst atrocities you've never seen."

"Then I guess we're just better than you," Pacian chided him.

"Yeah, seems like it," Robert mumbled.

"This isn't getting us anywhere," Sayana advised them. "There's no point dwelling in the past."

"Says the woman who cut out my eye with an axe," the mercenary grunted bitterly.

"That isn't something I'd care to relive," she replied quietly, walking alongside Robert. "Do you realise how fearsome you were in that fight? It was like fighting a monster — you just wouldn't give up."

"I've been in fights far worse than that and come out on top," Robert responded. "There's always a path to victory, if you just know where to look. As near as I can figure, you all got damned lucky and you shouldn't count on that happening again, no matter who you're fighting."

"We don't need to rely on luck, anymore," Sayana advised him. "I could probably have taken you on my own, if I was as strong then as I am now."

"Just remember where that strength is coming from," Criosa warned, reminding the sorceress of the nature of her power.

"I'll keep that in mind," Robert said to fill in the awkward silence that followed. "Thanks for the compliments, though," he added, give her an appraising look that she missed completely.

"Mister Black, I have something to say to you," Criosa said as she moved her horse closer to him, apparently having come to a decision. "I still have issues with your past, but I can see you are being truthful when you speak of your desire for redemption. I may be young, but I have learned to recognise assets that may be useful to the Crown, and I'm a fair judge of character too. When you fight, you fight to win, yes?"

"Who doesn't?" Robert replied.

"But am I right when I say that you will give everything you have in service to your employer?"

"Of course," the mercenary answered.

"I had considered throwing you in jail when we reached Culdeny, after you had dealt with the dragon," Criosa mused somewhat archly. "Your crimes may still warrant such action, yet I feel we are in need of men like you, to fight and to lead in the days ahead. I can't believe I'm doing this," she muttered almost to herself, "but we need you. You will fight and perhaps die, in the service of Aielund as recompense for your crimes."

"Is this a second chance?" Robert asked curiously.

"Of a sort," Criosa nodded.

"That's what I was hoping to hear when we started this journey, but I guess you had to warm up to the idea. I don't suppose you're going to pay me?"

"Certainly," she beamed. "Please accept the sum of zero gold sovereigns for your services."

"That's not a number," Robert growled.

"The mathematicians at the university tell me otherwise," Criosa assured him.

"Does my employment involve you taking advantage of me, and making quirky little jokes at my expense?"

"Absolutely," Criosa affirmed. "Now then, you two can catch up with us later, as I am in need of a bath and a fine meal." She nudged her mount into a canter, and everyone except Robert and Sayana followed suit, leaving the bemused duo to walk the remainder of the distance.

As the rest of them closed on the eastern gate, Aiden noticed some major work had taken place in the town since their last visit. The outer wall was nearly twice as high as he remembered, and fresh stonework was visible upon the outer face. Sounds of ongoing construction could be heard from within the new walls as the burned Culdeny of old was reborn.

Criosa kept a low profile as they made their way through the gate, allowing Aiden to do most of the talking. The guards were surprised to see travellers arriving from the east, and inquired about the presence of the dragon in the mountains. Aiden told them it was gone, leaving the highway safe once more. When asked if they had slain the beast, he simply shrugged and said they'd never encountered it. They wouldn't have believed him if he'd told them the truth anyway.

Buildings damaged by fire and been replaced with new houses of stone construction. Cobblestones were arranged along the entire length of the street, a far cry from the muddy paths that had squelched underfoot in the past. Artisans and stonemasons went about their tasks, gradually transforming the town into a proper city, albeit a small one.

The feeling of optimism in the air was palpable, a combination of the fine spring weather and the resurgence of their scarred town.

Aiden and his companions made their way to the Seaspray Inn, which was showing signs of renovation over much of its wooden exterior. The inside hadn't changed a bit since their last visit however, and the rowdy patrons gave Criosa a moment's pause. Once their rooms were booked, they went their separate ways and spent some time attending to personal matters with the intention of meeting back at the inn within two hours.

Aiden treated himself to a bath and a meal, then headed downstairs for a meal. He shared a platter of roast pork and potatoes with the others, and when they were halfway through the meal Aiden's attention was caught by Robert and Sayana coming through the front door.

The mercenary was clad from head to toe in heavy plate armour, with a large sword strapped over his back. He carried a visored helm under one arm and stood next to Sayana, appearing confident and dangerous in his new equipment.

"Looking good, Robert," Criosa remarked with a smile as he and Sayana joined them at the table.

"Thanks for buying this for me," he replied as he pulled off his armour gauntlets. "It certainly wasn't cheap."

"Well, you need to be properly attired for war," Criosa pointed out. "But do you have to wear it at the table?"

"I'm bedding in the leathers underneath," Robert explained. "So no, I'm not doing wearing it because I enjoy weighing half a ton."

"Fair enough," Criosa conceded. The princess went on to explain that she had already spoken with the newly appointed ruler of Culdeny, an elderly local lord by the name of Talbot Matheson. He had practically tripped over himself offering aid to Criosa in any matter she brought up. All that remained was for her to speak with the local guard captain, who Nellise informed her was absent due to the war effort.

"Don't worry, his wife will be able to help us out," Nellise said.

"I'm missing something, aren't I?" Criosa murmured cautiously, unsure if she was joking or not.

"Sergeant Ariel is the captain's wife, and as I recall, was quite good at her job," Aiden clarified.

"Good, I'd like to see more women in positions of authority," Criosa remarked in satisfaction. "We'll stay here for the night, then meet with her at first light before pressing south in the morning."

With that, they finished their meal and retired for the evening. Aiden slept like a log for the first time in months, and upon waking had a quick bite to eat before joining Criosa and the others as they headed to the guard house. The weather was cloudy and there was a cold bite of salt in the air as the locals went about repairing the town.

Ariel's chainmail-clad form was standing at a table when they found their way to the guard's office. Her dark eyes turned to watch them enter, and a brilliant white smile erupted from her dark face as she recognised Aiden and the others. Behind her stood a hulking figure of a man, peering down at the table with grim determination, ignoring their presence until they came to a halt a few feet away.

"Aiden Wainwright, this is quite an unexpected surprise," Ariel greeted them warmly. "It's a pleasure to see you all again. I hope you like what we've done with the place."

"Culdeny has never looked better," Nellise replied with a smile.

"It bloody well should, considering the money they've sunk into the place," the big man growled in a familiar dour voice. Aiden burst into a grin as Dante Colt, onetime companion and friend of their little group, turned to greet them.

"Colt, it's great to see you again," Aiden exclaimed, shaking his hand. A rare smile was on the big ranger's face as he surveyed the group, his eyes almost popping out of his head at the sight of Nellise's armoured form.

"Nel, what happened? Someone's gone and encased you in a metal coffin or something," he grunted.

"I became tired of people — and other things — trying to stab me to death," she replied casually. "My peace of mind is worth the discomfort."

"Fair enough, I suppose. You're looking a bit meatier there, Sy," the ranger continued, looking at the sorceress. "Good to see you're finally eating enough."

"You're not as funny as you think you are," Sayana drawled.

"Sure I am," Colt smirked, giving her a crushing hug. His smile vanished a moment later when he laid eyes on Robert Black, who had been keeping to the rear of the group with his head down to try and avoid attention.

"What the f—" Colt breathed, before grabbing his greatsword from the wall and drawing it from its sheath. Robert immediately drew his own blade and the two former enemies stood eyeing each other, with grim purpose in their eyes and steel in their hands.

Chapter Six

"Captain, what are you doing?" Ariel exclaimed in surprise as the two men faced off within the confines of her office.

"That's Robert Black, commander of the Steel Tigers mercenary company," Colt growled, never taking his eyes off Robert for a moment. "Or should I say former commander, since we beat him and his pack of surly bastards half way to hell and back." Ariel's expression turned cold with the realisation she was standing before the man responsible for laying waste to a large part of her town.

"Easy there, Colt," Aiden warned, trying not to set him off. "Just relax, he's working for us now." To his credit, Robert did nothing further to provoke the big man, though he didn't let his guard down, either.

"How is he even still alive?" Colt asked with a sidelong glance at Aiden. "I'm sure we left him for dead on the road."

"He had some magical assistance," Aiden explained, making a mental note to describe the small relic that had restored Robert's life sometime later.

"That's cheating," Colt growled, unimpressed. "Usually when we kill someone, they stay dead."

"Don't remind me," Pacian muttered.

"Put your weapons away, gentlemen," Criosa ordered. "We are all on the same side here, and I'll not have you cutting each other into ribbons when we've greater problems to address."

"I'd be doing all the cutting, Highness," Colt assured her as he lowered his sword. Robert responded in kind, warily sheathing his heavy blade.

As Aiden examined him closely, he could see Colt had actually cleaned himself up. Gone was the perpetual three-day growth around his jowls, and even his hair had been tidied. Most importantly, his eyes no longer had the bleary, unfocused look of a heavy drinker.

"Is that all you've got to say for yourself?" Colt asked of Robert.

"Don't mind me, I'm just a flunky now," Robert said deprecatingly. "A comedy foil, if you will. Just don't ask me to do any juggling and we'll get along fine."

"Don't give me that bullshit," Colt grunted. "You don't go from head of a merc army to some kind of nobody. It doesn't work that way."

"Well, I have two things to say to you," Robert said calmly. "Firstly, I'm helping Princess Criosa and her companions save this country and as such, I answer only to them. Secondly, shut the hell up." Aiden groaned inwardly at his choice of words.

"That does it," Colt bellowed, raising his sword up once more. Robert didn't respond this time, and simply stood there regarding the angry ranger as his blade rose above his head. On the verge of cutting Robert down, Colt's sword was suddenly flung out of his hands, falling upwards until it hit the ceiling, where it was held fast.

"If following the orders of your sovereign's daughter isn't enough to keep you civil," Sayana said quietly as she gripped her staff, "I'll have to take care of this myself." Colt gazed up at his huge sword that was held just out of reach, and then eyed the sorceress ruefully.

"You sure know how to crush a man's pride, Sy," he muttered.

"I'm enjoying this for all sorts of reasons," Pacian chimed in, drawing a warning glance from Aiden.

"He's with us for a reason," Aiden said to Colt to assuage his feelings. "The same reason we're here, actually. But what about you? You're a captain now?"

"Yeah, how about that eh?" Colt chuckled, easing back from his belligerent posture. Robert also relaxed, though he kept to the rear of the group and remained silent as the ranger explained things. "They needed an officer of the rangers here to help out during the rebuilding, and my commander offered me for the job."

"So, this had nothing to do with the issues between you, Commander Wise and Mona?" Nellise asked, referring to the elven subject of Colt's affections.

"Never could fool you for long, Nel," Colt nodded. "She was still being a bit aloof with me around, which is probably why the commander sent me off. I know she's got a thing for me, if I can just prove myself. Anyway, enough about my situation — what brought you back to Culdeny with an untrustworthy bastard like him in tow, Highness?"

"Desperate times, Captain," Criosa replied with quiet emphasis. "We all had our doubts about Robert's intentions when we started out, but he's proven himself loyal so far, and I'm going to need every able-bodied man and woman in the country if we're going to survive the next month."

"What are you talking about, Highness?" Ariel asked, taken aback by her tone.

"We're gearing up for a major battle at Fort Highmarch soon," the princess explained to her. "I need you to send everyone you can spare to the fort as soon as possible. Culdeny will also see thousands of dwarven and Kingdom soldiers passing through over the next week, so I need you to billet them and ensure they have adequate provisions for the journey south, and enough supplies to last them for a week upon their arrival at the fort."

"I... that is a huge ask, Highness," Ariel stammered. "I'll do what I can, but the king already stripped the garrison months ago. I have barely enough men to keep the peace as it is."

"If we don't win this fight, there won't be any peace left to keep," Criosa warned.

"Alright, after the rest of the reserves leave Culdeny, I'll send along half of my remaining guardsmen," Ariel relented. "If things go as badly as you say, I'll need help maintaining order."

"Good enough," Criosa nodded. "Captain, I need you to round up the rangers and send them south as well."

"Figured you might," Colt grunted. "I can head out right away."

"The sooner the better," Criosa agreed. "I'm truly sorry to drop this on you at the last moment, but the events of the past few months are coming to a head, and we need to act swiftly."

"I won't stand around flapping my gums any longer then," the big ranger muttered, grabbing a large pack from the wall and slinging it over his shoulder. "Sy, do you mind?"

Colt's sword, which had been stuck to the ceiling all this time, floated down at his request. He grabbed the hilt and sheathed it over his back. "I'll get my people moving right away, and we'll be at the fort within the week. You lot be careful, now, you hear me? If things in the south are getting rough, events could spill over into Aielund very easily."

"We know what we're doing," Pacian assured him condescendingly. Colt glared back at Pacian and the two locked eyes.

"You haven't changed a bit, Pacian," the big ranger remarked. "More's the pity. Kind of impressed someone hasn't buried you six feet under by now."

"Why, you want to take a crack at it?" Pacian chided him, and for a moment Aiden thought Colt might take him up on the offer. The big man glanced at Criosa, who shook her head slightly.

"Well, I'm done here, "Colt grunted. "Good luck, sarge, I think you're going to need it more than I will," he said to Ariel on the way to the door, ignoring Pacian but shoving his shoulder into Robert on the way past. The mercenary wasn't impressed, but managed to keep control of himself.

"As charming as ever," Nellise murmured.

"What he lacks in charm he makes up for in talent," Ariel said. "If he can get control of that temper, he'll be a decent commander some day."

"Sooner rather than later, I hope," Criosa finished. "Alright, we need to keep moving south. Carry on, sergeant."

"I won't let you down, Highness," Ariel assured her with returning confidence. Aiden gave her a quick nod as they filed through the doorway and back into the street.

"I think she took that rather well," Criosa remarked to the rest of them, as if seeking approval. "It's not every day you hear you might have a month to live."

"I'm just glad I made it out of there," Robert muttered. "I thought she was going to hang me for sure."

"I'm surprised she didn't recognise you on sight, what with you running security for the North Shore Trading Company a couple of months back," Aiden said.

"I never met her before, though I did meet her husband before he was whisked away by the king earlier in the year," Robert replied. "So, she was the one in command of the defenders when my mercs were attacking this place?"

"Yes, she was."

"Huh. She did alright, you know," Robert mused. "Even though we attacked in the middle of the night, she was on the ball faster than I'd hoped. Never left a hole in the town defences for me to exploit, either. Worked well with what she had, and to cap it all off, she's beautiful too."

"If you think she's so great, why don't you marry her?" Sayana asked sarcastically.

"That'd be something to see," Robert laughed, turning to look down at the diminutive sorceress with a gleam in his eye. "Can you imagine? 'So, where were you during the Battle of Culdeny, dear? I was killing your men, love.' No, I was just appreciating her finer qualities. I like strong women with interesting features."

"Robert, my face is up here," Sayana advised.

"Sorry, my mind wandered," the mercenary apologised with barely a hint of embarrassment. "It's been a while, you know. Being captain of a mercenary company doesn't lead to stable relationships."

"Can we please make him shut up now?" Pacian begged of Criosa.

"I have a better solution," the princess replied. "We've still half a day ahead of us, and I'll not waste it sitting around here a moment longer."

"I love it when you take charge like that," Aiden observed dryly. "I do so hate to sit around resting after a week of travel." She flashed him an wry grin as they made their way back toward the stables. On the way, he overheard Robert and Sayana talking nearby. He probably shouldn't have been listening to a private conversation, but he still hadn't learned to fully trust the mercenary just yet.

"You're a lot different than I thought you'd be," Sayana told Robert quietly. "I wasn't looking forward to working with you at all — for obvious reasons."

"Life can be surprising sometimes," Robert grunted laconically. "Here I was, thinking you were a savage, axe-wielding maniac who enjoyed cutting people's eyes out of their sockets. Turns out you're actually less of a barbarian than you seemed."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Sayana replied with a slight hint of a smile on her lips.

"As it was intended," Robert assured her. Aiden was almost beside himself with curiosity, for the last thing he would have expected was to see these two get along. It was quite possible that spending a week together on horseback had restuled in some interesting and unforeseen effects on their relationship.

Setting aside such trivial concerns for now, the group took to their horses and set out from Culdeny. Despite his reluctance to press on so soon, Aiden relished the feeling of the warmer air rushing past him as they cantered along the highway. This feeling of peace ended abruptly when Salinder voiced some concerns in Aiden's mind.

This journey is taking too long, the sword informed him. Even now, I feel my strength beginning to ebb.

"The horses are going as fast as they can," Aiden responded, garnering a curious glance from Pacian, who rode alongside him.

At this rate, I will be all but gone by the time you face the Ironlord. Do you relish that prospect?

"I don't see that I have a lot of choice in the matter," Aiden muttered, unsure what the dragon spirit wanted him to do about it.

I will have to expedite matters, Salinder stated. Remain calm.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Aiden asked, feeling decidedly un-calm at the statement. His answer came in the form of a violet mist that encompassed the entire group, followed by a flash of light and the feeling of riding through absolute darkness for a fraction of time. The strange experience disappeared almost as soon as it began, but the horses, skittish beasts at the best of times, sensed something odd had occurred and skidded to a halt, screaming and kicking at the air.

Aiden was overcome with a sense of twisting nausea, and he struggled to control his mount without falling from the saddle. When he finally calmed his horse down, he checked on the others to make sure they were still in one piece. Pacian appeared a little green around the edges, and Nellise's horse staggered around as if drunk.

"What did you do?" he demanded of Salinder, his companions glaring in his direction as they realised who was responsible for the strange effect.

I moved us forty miles to the south, Salinder explained in its deep, clear voice. It was as far as I could take you without risking your lives in the Aether. Astonished at this news, Aiden looked around him and saw the same towering pines lining the highway.

"Did you all hear that?" Aiden asked the others.

"If you're talking to your sword again, I didn't hear anything," Pacian replied with a weak voice. "What happened?"

"It claims we've been moved forty miles south, which would put us just north of Bracksford," Aiden explained.

"One way to find out," Robert grunted, turning his horse south once more and heading off at a gallop.

"He's proactive, I'll give him that," Nellise sighed before reluctantly following along, with the rest of them hurrying to catch up. Aiden knew that if they were close to Bracksford, they'd be able to see the town somewhere nearby. After a few minutes at full speed, the forest around them began to thin out, and up ahead, the familiar sight of Bracksford's northern wall could be seen in the distance, just beyond the bridge over the Stormflow River.

"I'll be damned," Robert muttered as he looked out over the scene. "If that sword-dragon thing of yours can just transport us around like this, why not take us straight to the fort?"

"For safety reasons, I imagine," Criosa remarked. "I have come across such an incantation in my studies of magic. My understanding is the further one wishes to travel, the greater the chance of becoming lost. There is also the risk of never arriving at all. That was quite a risk you took, actually," she murmured, glancing at the sword on Aiden's hip.

It was necessary, the voice said, apparently heard by everyone.

"So, we're a day further ahead in our journey," Nellise observed. "We should make good use of the additional time and continue onward."

"Or we could stay at the inn for the evening," Pacian said, clearly wishing to recover from the jarring experience. "Why sleep on the ground when we don't have to?" During all this discussion, Robert had been gazing towards the distant town intently, uninterested in the conversation around him.

"Something's wrong," he remarked quietly, silencing the rest of them instantly.

"What is it?" Criosa asked perplexedly.

"The gates are closed in the middle of the afternoon," the mercenary replied.

"Is that so strange?" the princess asked, unsure if this was normal procedure.

"There's no sign of movement," Sayana observed shrewdly from the back of Robert's horse. "I remember seeing guards on duty at all times, even with the gate open."

"I don't like it," Robert growled. "It's just too damn quiet over there."

"I'm not convinced, but perhaps somebody should go in for a closer look," Aiden answered with a meaningful glance at Pacian.

"Me?" he balked. "If you're right about this, there could be anything in that town. There might even be another dragon in there."

No, I would sense it if this were the case, Salinder said, ending that line of thought. I can tell you that there are hundreds of people still in that town, yet their exact nature is beyond my ability to determine.

"See? No dragons or other monsters," Robert assured Pacian as his voice dropped to a low growl. "Now get in there."

Without further protest, Pacian dismounted and threw the reins to Nellise. He shot Robert a dangerous look and began walking down the road towards the town.

"You needn't be so callous toward him," Nellise chastised the mercenary. "I understand the two of you don't get along, but you need to remember your place."

"So does he," Robert replied absently, his focus entirely on the town before them. There were many small trees and bushes along the road leading towards Bracksford, which Pacian made full use of as he closed in. Although lazy for the most part, he was an expert at avoiding detection when he put his mind to it.

He vanished for a long while, with minutes passing by before he emerged on the other side of the river. There had been no sign of any movement along the wall, which was starting to worry Aiden.

Aiden wondered how Pacian was going to get past the tall wooden gate, when he saw the faint shadow that was his old friend clamber up the outside of the wall. Wedging his feet and hands in the cracks between the logs, he gradually ascended and poked his head tentatively over the top.

Without warning, Pacian suddenly dropped back to the ground and scampered back towards the river. He managed to disappear under the bridge at the same moment that half a dozen helmeted heads appeared over the wall — men armed with crossbows, aimed and ready to shoot. Aiden realised the town was occupied, but by whom, he had no idea.

"I knew it," Robert growled, his armour clanking as he shifted in his saddle.

"Bracksford has been raided?" Criosa breathed in astonishment. "Who would have the audacity to take an entire town in the middle of our Kingdom?"

"A few ideas spring to mind, but we should hear from Pacian before I say any more," Robert finished. The discussion ended when a crossbow bolt shot past them, missing Criosa by several feet.

"Get to cover, we've been spotted," Robert barked, turning his horse around and quickly guiding it into the nearby trees. Although they took time to reload, crossbows were accurate over long distances — particularly with no wind — and Aiden had no wish to stand in the open. They stopped their horses in a dense copse of bushes and saplings. Aiden was concerned for Pacian, who was still out there somewhere.

A few tense minutes later, the branches of a nearby tree shifted and Pacian stumbled into view, sopping wet but very much alive.

"I guess you got your answer, then," he croaked.

"Were you followed?" Sayana asked cautiously, to which Pacian shook his head.

"How many are there?" Robert asked without prevarication.

"Over a hundred, easily," Pacian replied. "They look like proper military, but I guess they're not ours."

"Were any of them wearing tunics emblazoned with heraldic devices?" Criosa asked.

"Most of them, yeah. Looked like a big cat of some kind, but with wings."

"A griffon," Criosa breathed, glancing at Nellise meaningfully.

"The Tulsonites have invaded Aielund," the cleric stated in reply.

"Sounds like two full companies, assuming they have support," Robert mused thoughtfully. "I'm sorry, Your Highness, the town is already lost. We'll have to go around, unless Salinder wants to teleport us past the town."

I do not wish to waste energy unnecessarily, it replied. Travel around the area if you must.

"There's more," Pacian added. "I saw a group of people being herded into a building by some soldiers, and they're also trying to break into another house near the main road. There's some sort of commotion going on in there, but I couldn't stay around any longer to find out what."

"They took captives," Criosa noted, slumping visibly in her saddle at this news.

"They'll be interrogated, at the very least," Robert grunted without emotion. "I'd hate to be them right now — the Tulsonites aren't subtle."

Aiden thought about the people he had met in Bracksford months ago, during the lockdown that had nearly starved the town. Mostly farmers, traders and shop-owners populated the town, good people who didn't deserve this.

"We can't just sit around while innocent people are being held captive," Nellise said.

"We could wait for the rangers to arrive," Criosa suggested, but then seemed crestfallen as she came to a realisation. "No wait... they're days behind us."

"If we want to save those people, it's just going to be us," Aiden explained grimly. Everyone remained silent, unsure of how to take on more than twenty times their number and survive. Robert glanced around at everyone, his piercing blue eye settling on each of them individually, as if weighing their worth.

"You, sword," he grunted. "Is your friend Spartan still around, or did you leave him behind when you teleported us here?"

I never left you, came Spartan's voice in their minds. To Aiden's surprise, the winged form of the small dragon appeared only ten yards away, startling everyone except the mercenary commander.

"Were you going to keep hidden while our countrymen and women suffered?" Nellise scolded Spartan, who gazed back at her with cold reptilian eyes.

I was curious to see what you would do in this situation, the dragon explained. Will you leave your fellow humans to their fate, or risk everything to save them?

"I have an idea, if you're willing to listen," Robert offered. "We don't have much time, but if we all pull together, I think we can do this." Aiden stared dubiously back at the mercenary, disturbed at the gleam of confidence that had appeared in his eye.

* * *

Aiden sat amongst the thick bushes near the edge of the bridge, peering at the town wall across the Stormflow River nearly a hundred yards away. Beside him was Criosa, her bright blue eyes following Aiden's, keenly observing the movements of their enemies as they stood guard over the north gate of Bracksford.

"Any moment now," Aiden whispered absently, waiting for the pre-arranged signal. His heart thudded in his chest, yet he was still surprisingly calm, despite what they were about to attempt. The sound was mimicked over the landscape as the sound of pounding hooves could be heard approaching along the road.

Aiden turned and saw the armoured form of Robert Black, astride his warhorse, thundering towards the main gate, his sword and shield held ready as he closed in. Behind him, almost invisible was Sayana, holding tightly onto the mercenary, his shield protecting them both on their deadly approach.

Riding just behind him was Nellise, the two of them riding the only combat trained mounts in the group, forcing the rest of them to move into the fight on foot. As if on cue, the archers on the wall spotted the approaching horses and loosed their bolts.

Bolts bounced off Robert's shield and armour as he pressed forward, and Aiden hoped the incantation Criosa had bestowed upon the horse would protect it as well as she promised, for it was unarmoured and vulnerable to attack. His hopes were confirmed as a flash spectral armour intercepted a bolt that would have taken the horse in its chest.

As soon as Robert reached the bridge, Aiden knew it was finally time to act. He stood up from amongst the bushes and pointed his ancient sword towards the distant gate. A crackle of energy appeared along the edge of the blade, growing in brilliance until it shot out towards the wooden structure with a blinding flash of light.

The bolt of energy struck the solid oaken logs of the gate and blasted it to pieces, sending a rolling clap of thunder echoing across the landscape. Shards of the gate whirled through the air, leaving the path clear for Robert, Sayana and Nellise to charge straight into the unsuspecting defenders.

"Time to move," Aiden advised, as he and Criosa emerged from the bushes and headed across the bridge as quickly as they could. He summoned his magical force shield to protect him from stray arrows, and then pressed the glyphs on his gauntlet to activate its power. Somewhere around here was Pacian, though he was nowhere to be seen as they moved quickly across the bridge towards the sounds of battle. Looking ahead, Aiden saw Sayana vault high into the air from the back of Robert's horse, using her talents to soar fifty feet above the fight and hover.

Her next move was predictable and as effective as always. She brought her hands together and sent a ball of fire through the air into the ranks of the surprised defenders below, with the explosion hurling burnt and smoldering bodies through the air.

Robert and Nellise were almost as effective, charging through the scattered ranks of Tulsonite infantry, leaving a growing pile of fallen enemies in their wake. The initial strike had proven successful, surprising the enemy with explosive force and giving them little time to respond. It now fell to Aiden, Criosa and Pacian to make the best use of the diversion to free the captives.

As expected, the tide of soldiers followed Robert and Nellise as they rode full-tilt towards the eastern side of town. The soldiers were rapidly overcoming their shock at the sudden attack, and the officers were restoring order. Sayana sent another ball of fire into the greatest congregation of enemy soldiers, charring nearly a dozen men, but those remaining were quickly learning to spread out and seek cover.

A flurry of crossbow bolts shot up towards Sayana, but the combination of her protective magics and armour protected her from harm. Aiden and Criosa reached the sundered gate and carefully made their way inside. Three soldiers, recovering from the initial assault, spied them entering the town and moved to intercept.

Criosa raised her short bow and loosed an arrow, taking the first one in the chest, while Aiden held Salinder before him to engage the other two. He hadn't tested his repaired gauntlet before the battle, but wasn't disappointed with the results.

It seemed to be working perfectly as he strode in, cutting down one of the chainmail armoured men in a single bloody stroke, and punching the other in the face so hard Aiden felt the man's skull crack underneath his conical helmet. Pacian appeared from around the corner of the nearby house and gestured for them to follow.

"About time you showed up," Aiden growled, keeping an eye on their surroundings for any soldiers not following the diversion.

"I don't do frontal assaults," Pacian replied with a tight voice. "It's the third building on the left."

"That's the barracks," Aiden voiced with mild concern. "If they've got it locked up tight, we may have trouble getting in there."

"Can't you just punch the door?" Criosa asked, her bow held at the ready.

"I can at that," Aiden agreed, flinching reflexively as another distant explosion reminded them of the battle taking place only a few hundred yards away. The three of them hurried along the main road, stopping short of rounding the corner to where the barracks stood. Pacian leaned against the wall and peered around the edge, then pulled back quickly.

"There are ten of them guarding the place," he whispered, hefting his repeating crossbow. "You head in and fight, while Criosa and I shoot from back here."

"Just aim carefully," Aiden advised as he gripped the hilt of his sword and charged around the corner. The barracks guards, alert for any sign of their enemies, reacted instantly to his appearance. Shields were raised as they formed a phalanx in front of the door, yet they had no way of being prepared for what was about to hit them.

Aiden pointed Salinder at the middle of their ranks and a blast of sound engulfed the enemy soldiers, forcing them to clutch their ears in distress and drop their weapons. Their defence shattered, Aiden swept in and began hacking away at them, the strength of his arm and sharpness of his blade more than enough to defeat their chain armour.

He paused at the end of the fight to catch his breath, and then turned his attention to the door beyond the pile of broken bodies. Aiden had become accustomed to shutting down his emotions during a fight, lest the sight of so many dead by his hand fray at his resolve.

"Anyone in there?" he yelled through the thick wooden door, hammering on its surface twice for good measure. He thought he heard a muffled response, but when he tried the handle, he found it stuck fast. "Stand back!" he barked, hoping that whoever was on the other side could hear him. Aiden pulled back his arm, clenching his gauntleted hand into a fist and struck the door with such force it shattered in one blow.

Without taking any chances, he raised his sword and stepped into the barracks, unsure of what to expect. Splinters and dust covered the entrance, but as it began to clear he could see a large group of civilians huddled by the back wall. There must have been thirty of them, including a few familiar faces.

One of them was in the middle of strangling another man clad in the colours of Tulsone. As the soldier died, the middle-aged heavy-set man Aiden recognised as Tom Ballard, innkeeper of the Bracksfordshire Arms, released the body onto the ground without ceremony.

"Aiden?" asked Mayor Olaf, the elderly statesman of the town, standing nearby amongst the crowd.
"Was he the only one?" Aiden asked of Tom, ignoring the Mayor for the moment.

"No, he had a few sadistic friends we took care of when the fighting started," the innkeeper replied grimly. By his side was his daughter Aislin, who clutched her father's leg and watched the proceedings silently.

"We need to get you out of here," Aiden explained. "We're heading north, outside the gate and over the bridge. Take cover in the nearby trees until we have the situation under control. Let's move."

Without complaint, the people of Bracksford started moving towards the door, when Pacian and Criosa burst in, diving to either side as crossbow bolts began raining through the doorway. One bounced off Aiden's magical shield, forcing him to take cover. The townsfolk did likewise, moving further into the barracks in fear as the situation changed.

"How many are there?" Aiden asked of Criosa.

"At least thirty," she replied with a trembling voice, a thin sheen of perspiration on her forehead, despite the cool spring air. "They must have been covering the south gate when we attacked."

"Robert and Nel have their hands full already," Pacian said, changing out the cartridge on his repeater. "We'll have to hold them off until they can get to us."

"Spartan was supposed to be helping," Aiden muttered, risking a peek out through the broken door to see dozens of soldiers taking up position across the street.

He has been watching the battle unfold, looking for the right time to strike, Salinder explained. The time is now. The silver form of the small dragon appeared just above the street as Spartan dived. He opened his maw and issued an ear-splitting roar that rooted his enemy's feet to the ground. The sound was primal, latching onto a part of the human mind that still dreamed of monsters in the night. Only at the last moment did he extend his wings and talons as he crashed into a group of terrified Tulsonite archers.

The appearance of the dragon threw the reinforcements into a state of chaos, with half of them staring in horror, while others kept their heads and brought their weapons to bear upon him. Aiden watched as Spartan raised his head and took in a deep breath, but instead of fire spewing forth from his maw, the crackle of electricity danced across his teeth as a stroke of lightning cascaded across the assembled troops.

As soon as the electricity had dissipated, Spartan reared up on his hind legs and strode forward, tearing and clawing at the enemy with six-inch talons. It wasn't long before the last remaining officer called for mercy, indicating his men should lay down their weapons and surrender. Sickened by the slaughter, Aiden headed outside and ordered for an end to the fight.

Of the several hundred Tulsonite men who had taken the town, only twenty-two remained. Bracksford was a slaughterhouse, with bodies of their slain enemies piled up in the streets. He moved in for a closer look at the remaining soldiers who cowered under Spartan's aegis, and found them to be little more than boys, some of them younger than Aiden. All of them seemed underfed, unkempt and dirty, and some of the older ones were unshaven.

"What does this mean?" he whispered to himself. Criosa came over to stand next to him, equally at a loss to understand the situation. It was only when Robert's horse came to a halt and the mercenary looked down at the scene that it all made sense. He leaned heavily to one side in his saddle and his right arm hung limply from his side, a crossbow bolt protruding morbidly from his shoulder.

"I think we just did Tulsone a favour," he grunted, reaching into a pouch to produce a cigar and a spark box. "Unless I miss my guess, they're deserters," he explained as he lit his cigar with his one good arm. "If we didn't kill 'em, their own army would have, if they ever found out."

"They're so... young," Criosa said in an empty voice.

"Reservists, probably," Robert replied, then spoke a few words in their native tongue to the assembled troops. Their officer replied hesitantly in the same flowing language, going on for some time in a shaking voice. "Damn, it's worse than I thought," the mercenary muttered after the officer had finished speaking. "The Tulsonite forces were decimated by the Aielish army, so they called up their reserves... right before they ran into the Ironlord."

"These men were all that remained out of a thousand, and that's why they deserted. They came into Aielund through the fens, which goes to show how desperate they were. They lost over a hundred men in that bloody swamp, and most of their supplies as well. By the time they got here they were in no mood for negotiation."

"Dear God," Criosa breathed as Nellise arrived on the scene, her white robed similarly bloodied. "An army of young men, little more than boys, forced to fight that monster in their first battle. Little wonder they ran." Aiden noticed there were more defeated soldiers trotting along behind her, bringing the total survivors to nearly fifty.

"The first thing they did when they arrived here was to kill most of the defenders and then pillage the town," Robert explained. "We ran into the remains of some women over on the eastern side who met their end at the hands of some of these 'innocent boys,'"

"What a bloody mess this war is," Pacian spat, visibly disgusted with the whole thing.

"Welcome to my world," Robert grunted. Looking around, Aiden didn't envy the man his previous existence.

Chapter Seven

"So, what do we do with them?" Pacian asked, looking at the assembled prisoners.

"I'm open to suggestions," Aiden drawled.

"We can't simply let them go," Nellise insisted, having just removed the bolts from Robert's shoulder. "Are you sure you don't want to sit down for this?"

"I'll survive," he grunted. "Just get it done. I'm all for incarcerating the enemy, but they'd have to be guarded, and we're a little short on prison guards right now. We can't leave the civvies here either, as there's no telling if this is going to happen again. I also want to put these prisoners to work digging a mass grave for these bodies, before disease starts to spread."

"That's a good idea, get them started on that," Aiden agreed, recalling his home town, not far to the east. "After that's done, we move the civilians to Coldstream. It's only a day's journey, and they'll have supplies and accommodations for everyone."

"The rangers will be coming this way soon," Criosa added. "Perhaps they would be inclined to do something with these prisoners?"

"There aren't many of them," Nellise reminded her as she bandaged up Robert's shoulder. "Their skills will be needed at the defence of Highmarch."

"Then we bring the prisoners along as well," Aiden said. "The guards at Coldstream can keep watch on them."

"East it is, then," Robert agreed. "I'm not sure we have enough people to guard so many, but Spartan's presence will keep them in line."

"I don't know about that," Sayana said, pointing to where the dragon was resting on his haunches before the assembled prisoners. "I think his terrifying mystique is being eroded somewhat."

Peering over to see what she was referring to, Aiden could see Aislin Ballard, the innkeeper's daughter, standing next to Spartan. She gazed up at the dragon gleaming in the midday sun with wide, dark eyes. An expression of wonder was evident on her little face, and Spartan didn't seem to mind when she touched his flank, as if to make sure he was actually real.

"Aislin, get away from it," Tom Ballard called to his daughter fear in his voice. Reluctantly, she backed away from Spartan, who looked at her curiously as she returned to her father's side.

Robert stalked over to where the prisoners were awaiting their fate and barked out some orders to their officer in Tuscara. The blood drained from the man's face as he understood what was involved, but Robert didn't take no for an answer. Soon, the entire contingent of prisoners was picking up farming implements and shovels provided by the locals, and with Spartan vigilantly watching over them began the grisly task of burying the bodies of the fallen.

Olaf, the Mayor of Bracksford, walked past the scene and approached Aiden and the others.

"Your Highness, what are you doing here amongst all this?" he inquired with a polite bow.

"Doing my part to help the country," she replied. "For the sake of their safety, we need your people to travel with us to Coldstream. Please make sure they're organised and ready to move as soon as possible."

"I will see to it, Highness," he said, bowing once more. "Good to see you again, Aiden."

"That's Sir Aiden to you," he informed him. Olaf gave Aiden a nervous look and turned back towards the gathered townsfolk.

"Finally feeling comfortable with your title, I see," Criosa teased.

"I don't trust that man," Aiden muttered, ignoring her jab. "He was up to some shady dealings when we last met."

"You'll have to tell me about it some time," Criosa suggested curiously. "For now, we have enough to deal with."

They set about organising the locals while Nellise chanted some prayers to heal the wounded. Despite her earlier comments regarding the value of their lives, she tended to most of the prisoners with the same care she showed the wounded civilians. Aiden caught a glimpse of two men who had been interrogated by the Tulsonite soldiers prior to their rescue, and shuddered at the injuries they had sustained. Pacian was watching Nellise carefully, and brought Aiden's attention to something that caught his eye.

"She hasn't healed those five prisoners," he whispered, pointing to some large, rough looking men at the edge of the group busily digging a big hole. "I don't like the way she's looking at them, either, and I don't blame her — I know a bunch of thugs when I see one. I guess they weren't too picky about the kind of people they recruited."

"Were they responsible for interrogating the civilians?" Aiden whispered back.

"Without a doubt, and from what I've seen, they had their way with some of the local women too. I'm going to have a quick word with her," Pacian advised, moving over to pull her aside for a brief word. Aiden hovered nearby, just within earshot.

"Don't even think about it," Pacian whispered to her as he locked eyes with one of the thugs.

"Think about what?" she replied, somewhat confused.

"Treat those prisoners the same as you would any other," he suggested. "I know what you're thinking, and that's not the sort of person you are." Nellise let out a sigh of frustration at this.

"You know me so well, my love," she whispered to him. "It's... difficult for me, you know that."

"Believe me, I do," Pacian assured her. "Don't go down that path. One of us has to stay pure." Nellise's hard visage softened with a smile as she looked at him with adoration. They were an odd couple, to be sure, yet somehow, they found a way to make it work.

Once the grisly task of burying the dead was complete, Robert set about moving the large body of people along the road out of town. A couple of locals had taken up arms to assist, notably Tom Ballard and David Patel, a weather-beaten old man who happened to be a retired ranger wielding a longbow. With Aiden and Nellise riding to either side of the column of bedraggled people, they left the scarred town of Bracksford behind as they set out for solace of Coldstream.

The prisoners, cowed by their defeat, gave them no trouble as they trudged along the narrow highway. The men and women of Bracksford kept their distance, walking far ahead of their former enemies so they didn't have to look at them. The memories of their town being invaded were fresh in their minds, and it would no doubt take a long time to recover from the anguish they had suffered at the hands of the Tulsonite conscripts.

The weather held fair as they travelled, the road becoming gradually steeper ascending into the foothills. As the sun sank in the west, lanterns and torches were lit, providing light for the solemn procession to continue through the encroaching darkness. Nellise and Aiden both invoked their less mundane light sources, as did Sayana. The sorceress even went one step further, sending a dozen small flames hovering over the line of captives in case any of them made a run for it.

Aiden suspected they were in no mood to break free. War had been especially cruel to them, and the prospect of spending the rest of the conflict being fed and sheltered in the country might be very appealing. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of crying from up ahead. The experience of the last few days, combined with the journey was proving to be too much for some of the younger children.

Criosa rode closer and picked up two of the little ones, allowing them to ride with her. She spoke softly to the small children, too quiet for Aiden to hear but they soon settled down. The princess was tireless, using her boundless energy to raise the flagging spirits of the townsfolk with reassurances and encouragement. Watching her give what aid she could to the people, Aiden felt a sense of admiration for her he'd never before experienced. The image of the spoilt rich girl of recent months was fading, replaced by one of a confident, courageous young woman doing her utmost to save her country.

It was several hours after sunset by the time the weary group reached the gates of Coldstream, much to the surprise of the half-dozen or so guardsmen stationed there.

"Don't just stand there gawking, son," Robert grunted at one young soldier from atop his horse. "Get your commanding officer down here, and probably the Mayor while you're at it."

"Yessir," the startled man replied automatically, turning to bolt up the road into the town.

"The rest of you get over here and help these people out." The other five guardsmen followed his orders without question, rushing to help the exhausted men and women who had struggled to make it this far.

"Thanks, for everything," Tom Ballard said to Aiden, pausing to shake his armoured hand briefly before helping some of the older people into the town. Criosa followed the townsfolk in, leaving the rest of them to deal with the prisoners. The defeated men began to file into town as more guards arrived from the other end of Coldstream, accompanied by an officer and a middle-aged woman quickly wrapping herself in a thick blanket.

"What's going on here, and why is it happening in the middle of the night?" she asked of Robert as the captives filed past her. Aiden suddenly recognized her as the Mayor, Saorise Bathurst, although he had never seen her in nightclothes before.

"I'll answer this one," Aiden replied, climbing off his tired horse and stepping forward.

"Is that... Aiden Wainwright?" she remarked in disbelief. "How are you involved in all this?" Aiden took the time to explain the situation to her and the nearby guardsmen, focusing on the invasion of Bracksford and their subsequent liberation. He didn't bother trying to mention anything about the dragon, since she wouldn't believe him anyway, and Spartan seemed to have vanished as soon as they reached Coldstream. She took it well, all things considered, though her reply was interrupted when Robert swore out loud.

"Excuse me?" Saorise rebuffed him, one eyebrow raised archly.

"There are five men missing," Robert clarified without apologizing for his outburst. "I counted forty-seven back at Bracksford, but only forty-two have entered the town. Some wily bastards must have slipped away en route."

"That doesn't seem surprising, considering how spread out we were," Aiden pointed out.

"They'll likely turn to banditry and start raiding nearby farmsteads," Robert continued. "Your men will have to keep an eye out for trouble over the coming days."

"They'll do just that," Saorise assured them. "There's nothing that can be done about it now, however, so why don't you all get to the inn and get some rest. We'll see to the prisoner's welfare."

"Thanks, Your Honour," Aiden replied, suddenly realizing how tired he was. "We can talk more about this tomorrow." Saorise nodded and turned to speak with her guards, while Aiden led his tired horse up the road with the others. It was yet another strange homecoming as the familiar streets came into view, still encrusted with snow even at this time of year. The implications of meeting his parents flashed through his mind briefly, but he was too tired to ponder it further at the moment.

After bedding down their horses in the dark stable, they headed to the Sleeping Bear Inn. The common room was filled to capacity with the refugees of Bracksford, and it was going to be a challenge to find enough rooms to accommodate everyone. Criosa had taken charge of the scene, assisted by a very bemused Mayor who found herself in the presence of royalty while garbed only in her nightclothes.

Platters of bread, cheese and water were brought out to the crowd, so Aiden found an unoccupied corner and slowly eased himself down against the wall. Before he knew it, a plate of food appeared in front of him, held forth by a pale and tired-looking Aislin Ballard. Her hazel eyes seemed larger than usual against her dirty skin, but she held the tray of food with determination.

"There are other people around here to do that, you know," Aiden pointed out to the little girl, as he accepted the plate of cheese and toasted bread, lathered with butter.

"But my Dad said I could," she protested, her confident veneer cracking at the slightest problem. Aiden understood then that Tom had put her to work because serving people was what she knew, and it kept her from thinking about the horrors she had witnessed of late.

"Well, he knows what he's talking about," Aiden relented as he began to eat. "I mean, you're probably better at this than anyone else I know, actually."

"Thank you, Aiden," she said, lighting up at the compliment.

"It was very brave of you to walk up to the dragon back in town," Aiden continued, curiously. "You weren't scared of it like the other children?"

"He saved us from the bad men," Aislin replied. "Why would I be scared? He's so sleek and shiny, I couldn't resist."

"He is at that," Aiden agreed with a tired grin. Without further prompting, Aislin darted off into the crowd to continue helping out, her confidence bolstered by the memory of her encounter with Spartan. "Little victories," Aiden muttered to himself, hoping for a few minutes to let his mind relax after the events of the day.

The background noise was almost soothing, although there was still an undercurrent of tension in the voices of the refugees. Glancing over, his eye was caught by the sight of Criosa sitting on a large couch, almost obscured by a small crowd of children snuggled up against her. Her golden hair shone in the dim firelight, and when she happened to look over to Aiden there was a gleam of contentment in her sleepy eyes.

He gave her a knowing smile as she shrugged helplessly, trapped for the night lest she awaken the little ones. It was a cosy scene that made Aiden's eyelids heavy, and his thoughts turned to finding a place to lie down for the night. He briefly considered his parent's house, but he had no wish to replay the scene from his last visit. He'd take a small space of floor at the inn rather than face them again.

"I've half a mind to get back out there and hunt those bastards down," Robert grumbled as he stormed inside, interrupting Aiden's line of thought. He headed straight for the bar, where Pacian had already found himself a seat. He was sipping a large tankard of ale while staring in contemplation at his shining vythiric dagger on the polished surface of the bar.

"You'd never find them anyway," Pacian counselled without taking his eyes off the weapon.

"Maybe, but it's the principle of the thing. They did a runner on my watch, but I'll be damned if I knew how they managed it."

"There were dozens of them," Pacian said. "There's no way we could have kept an eye on everyone at every waking moment. Forget about them — we've got bigger problems."

"I suppose," Robert grunted. "They'll get justice, sooner or later."

Pacian remained silent, but looked over at Aiden with a blank expression as he continued to toy with his dagger. Aiden went cold as he spied some blood on the weapon's blade, and the mystery of the missing prisoners suddenly wasn't so mysterious. Overcome with a need to be away from everyone else, Aiden slowly got back on his feet and headed upstairs to find a place to sleep, so he could put the grisly work behind him.

* * *

Aiden awoke just after dawn the next morning to the sounds of snoring men. The Sleeping Bear was overcrowded, so people were being unceremoniously crammed into rooms in order to accommodate everyone. Having used his bedroll on the floor of the room, Aiden had been comfortable enough, though his sleep was plagued with nightmares of blood and daggers in the night.

The question was not 'if', but how Pacian had managed to kill those men. They were enemies of the Crown, and criminals as well if Pacian's insight was anything to go by. Aiden wasn't certain how he could justify murdering captive men, regardless of their crimes.

Quietly gathering up his gear, he crept downstairs to the far more pleasant sight of Criosa asleep on the couch, her head reclined against the cushions and a half-dozen sleeping children still gathered around her. The rest of the common room was similarly occupied, and although people were starting to move about in the morning light, Aiden stood contemplating the young woman and allowed her beauty to banish his bad dreams. It was a guilty pleasure, yet he couldn't help himself.

Aiden took his breakfast at the bar and waited for his companions to awaken while the locals started to arrange more permanent accommodation for their guests. Pacian seemed to be his usual self when he came downstairs to eat, and Aiden found himself watching his old friend from time to time, pondering if he should broach the subject with him. Ultimately, without hard evidence, the accusation might serve to divide up his friends once more, and this was hardly the time or place to do that. He resolved to keep a close eye on Pacian in the near future.

It was well over an hour later, after everyone else had eaten, that they finally had time to speak of things privately, just outside the rear entrance to the inn.

"You appeared quite content, sleeping amongst all those children," Nellise remarked to Criosa with a faint smile on her face.

"It was not unpleasant," she replied shyly. "I asked you all out here to talk about something of far greater importance. Fate has led us here, and I had plenty of time last night to consider the opportunity that has been presented to us."

"What are you talking about?" Pacian asked suspiciously.

"The Akorans," Criosa explained. "Their lands are a day's journey to the south of here and I feel we should seek their aid for the imminent confrontation." Silence reigned as her words sank in, and Aiden glanced at Nellise and Sayana to see predictably tense expressions on their faces. Both women had experienced traumas at the hands of the tribal folk during the course of their lives, and Aiden expected their answers to be weighted accordingly.

"Don't all respond at once," Criosa murmured.

"When your father suggested speaking with the Akoran tribes during the meeting back in Fairloch," Aiden ventured cautiously, "I don't think he was being entirely genuine. I believe he was simply trying to convey how desperate things were becoming."

"All the more reason for us to meet with them," Criosa countered. "Look, I know about what happened between you the last time you went to their lands, and I'm not unsympathetic. But they have new leadership now, and if there is a chance they would be willing to assist Aielund in the fight, I need to investigate."

"They bear no love for the people of Aielund," Nellise offered grimly. "Were it not for our intervention, a large number of their warriors would have pillaged their way across Bracksfordshire with no remorse. Nor are they mercenaries — there is little you can offer to entice them to join our cause."

"There is a strong feeling of disdain seething beneath the surface," Sayana added. "Their lands have slowly been taken from them over the centuries, and many would enjoy watching Aielund burn. I don't think there is as much opportunity for an alliance as you might think."

"All of that was true a century ago and they still came to our aid when asked, so I will try anyway," Criosa insisted. "Should they prove hostile, I believe you are all more than a match for whatever they could throw at you."

I doubt it would come to that, Spartan's voice spoke in their minds. They turned to see the dragon snaking his way through the trees, his hide reflecting the greenery around him making him very difficult to spot through the morning mist.

"We're having a private conversation here," Robert hinted bluntly to Spartan.

Then perhaps you should have chosen a place with a little more privacy.

"You have an opinion, oh glorious leader?" Aiden drawled as the dragon stood before them.

I overheard you speak of a need for allies — I know some people who might be interested in an exchange of services.

"You're not certain?" Aiden asked.

They are an unpredictable people, Spartan explained. I cannot make guarantees, but if you are willing, I can arrange a meeting.

"Who exactly are we talking about here?" Robert inquired with undisguised suspicion.

It would be hard to explain with mere words. As with many things in life, you will need to see with your own eyes.

"Your timing is a little too perfect to believe you happened to mention this on a whim," Robert growled.

"Who exactly are you referring to?" Criosa asked.

I have sworn not to reveal the location or even the existence of my associates to anyone, and I am in danger of violating that oath even with what I have told you thus far. I can only say that my knowledge of worldly matters is greater than you think, and the people I speak of in such roundabout terms are worth your time. Criosa pondered this, and then looked to Nellise for advice.

"Give me a moment," she replied, her eyes becoming unfocused as she sought divine aid to their odd dilemma. After a few moments, the cleric looked with astonishment at Spartan, who merely stood there awaiting their response.

"What is it?" Aiden asked curiously.

"He speaks the truth," she breathed, "but there is more to this matter than even he knows."

Such is the way of those I represent, Spartan muttered. Ever are they mired in secrets and plots. Yet on this matter, they are resolute — a meeting is what they asked for, though the results will be entirely up to you. Do I have your answer? Everyone looked to Criosa for her response.

"I can't very well pass up an opportunity to gain a valuable ally," she mused. "Are they far?"

We should be there before nightfall, if we leave soon, Spartan replied.

"Then we will meet with your 'associates', and see where it leads from there," she answered.

Excellent, the dragon purred. Gather your equipment and meet me here in twenty minutes. Leave your horses, for we are travelling into the Cairnwood where such creatures are more of a burden than benefit. Spartan vanished into his surroundings as the group broke up to gather their things.

By the time they set out, lumberjacks were already hauling back their first load of wood for the day, having started their work at the crack of dawn. Spartan remained invisible to them, expertly gliding through the trees with his camouflaged hide keeping him obscured from the locals.

Pacian, who had always been more popular around town, struck up a quick conversation with one of the passing workmen whom he recognised and received some unexpected news.

"Sorry to hear about the death of your father, Pace," a lantern-jawed older man with thinning grey hair named Jacob Peters said. "Bryce had a troubled life, to be sure, but I wouldn't wish that sort of death on anyone. He will be missed." Pacian froze in place, staring back at Jacob with a stunned expression on his features.

"When... how did it happen?" he asked heavily, swallowing hard.

"You didn't know?" Jacob blurted. "I'm so sorry, Pace, I thought you'd have heard. Yeah, he drank himself to death a few weeks ago. He'd always been a heavy drinker but he seemed to double his efforts of late. If you want to know more, you'd best head to the chapel and speak with the priest. I have to keep moving mate, but again, I'm sorry for your loss."

"Thanks Jacob, I'll look into it," Pacian replied, clapping the old man on the shoulder as he went past.

"Are you okay?" Nellise asked softly, rubbing Pacian on the back in a comforting manner.

"We can remain here for an hour or so if you want to pay your respects," Criosa offered. Pacian's mood had been one of shock, but as the princess spoke, he seemed to shrug it off.

"No, I'm not going to hold up something of this importance just to cry over his mouldy corpse," he answered. "The stupid bastard couldn't stop drinking to save his own life, and I'm not going to shed one bloody tear over his death. Let's just keep moving."

Criosa looked at him dubiously and exchanged a brief glance with Nellise, who exhibited the sort of concern one has for a loved one going through a difficult time. Aiden shared their apparent doubts as to his course of action, but it was his choice, after all. They didn't speak of it again as they continued on their way, although Aiden made sure to keep an eye on Pacian as they travelled.

After some time, Aiden's sense of homespun calm slowly began to diminish. Although the fields east of Coldstream were still buried under snow, the undulating landscape was all too familiar to him. They gradually closed on the distant tree-line and Aiden's mind was flooded with the memories of running through the long grass all those years ago.

In many ways, it was his first memory, for he had lost most of his early experiences when Salinder had saved his life on the high plains of Akora, months ago. Combined with the repeated dreams of this event, Aiden felt like he was walking through his own mind, detached from the reality of the moment. A soft touch on his arm brought him back from his daydreaming, and he turned to see Criosa looking up at him with concern.

"I'm fine, I'm just remembering things from years ago," Aiden assured her, unsure of how to go about relating the strange experiences of his youth. He was touched by her concern though.

The stumps of fallen trees dotted the landscape long before they reached the tree line, and Aiden realised they had already passed the point of entering the forest. The landscape had changed over the years, and he was immediately on his guard. Pacian seemed equally nervous, but Spartan continued onward confidently, wending his way through the thickening boughs of the Cairnwood without concern.

"There it is," Pacian said to Aiden a few minutes later, pointing to mound of dirt at the base of one of the trees. Aiden nodded silently, taking a moment to walk over to the place where he had fallen. He hadn't been back here since he'd been pulled out of the hole, and mixed feelings stirred within his chest.

"Why are you looking at that pile of dirt?" Criosa asked curiously.

"It used to be a hole, but was filled in to prevent anyone else falling through," Aiden explained, his thoughts going to a very dark place.

"Anyone else..." she repeated. "I presume you fell in at some point?"

"Yes, and there's plenty more of these death-traps dotted all over the forest," Aiden warned. "I hope you know where you're going, Spartan."

I do, and I know the location of every single one of these artificial caves, so you needn't worry about falling to your deaths, the dragon explained. Follow behind me in single file. Step where I step, and you will all be quite safe. Come, we still have a long way to go. Filled with doubts and dark memories, Aiden reluctantly followed, with the rest of his companions falling into step behind him.

Chapter Eight

The forest became more densely packed as the minutes turned into hours, with fewer tree stumps to remind them of their proximity to human civilisation. Scattered sunlight filtered through the thick canopy above, and the sounds of wildlife became louder and more frequent as they journeyed deep into the forest.

True to his word, Spartan led them on a winding path through the trees, avoiding any sign of hidden caves or other treacherous terrain underfoot. At one point, they came to a large crevasse twenty feet across which split the earth for a hundred yards in either direction. Vines and roots could be seen poking out of the walls of the chasm, but upon looking closer, the distinct gleam of a metal structure could be seen amongst the dirt and stone.

"What is this place?" Sayana breathed, gazing down into the depths in wonder.

All will be revealed, Spartan explained impatiently. Aiden couldn't see the bottom of the artificial chasm, and exchanged a dark look with Pacian — rumours of the dangers of the forest were evidently not unfounded.

"I told you years ago it was a dangerous place," Aiden muttered to his old friend.

"You would have to be blind to have fallen down this one, if that's what you're worried about," Pacian chided him, showing no signs of grief from his recent loss. "There's probably a dozen or more hidden ones we've passed that would have killed us both before we ever got this far."

"That doesn't really make me feel any better," Aiden replied. Spartan spread his wings and flew over the chasm, alighting on the other side before turning to observe them. There was a massive fallen tree which formed a rudimentary bridge to the other side, not far from where Spartan landed.

It was safe, though that didn't stop them from walking across it very cautiously anyway. Small creatures skittered across the thick trunk, scurrying out of the way of the interlopers passing overhead. After crossing the log without incident, Aiden noticed a change in the forest, as if they had just passed some sort of border.

As they continued onward, they were astonished by the beauty of the deep forest around them. The leaves seemed to be a more vibrant green, and the trees themselves towered into the sky, ancient beyond knowing. Butterflies danced across wildflowers that grew in-between the massive trees, and sunlight streamed through the boughs in shafts of golden brilliance.

No human has ever ventured this far into the Cairnwood, the dragon informed them. The inner forest was protected against such incursions, centuries ago, but the defenders of this place have slept through recent decades. The collapsing underground structures in the western forest perform that duty now, though with far less subtlety or finesse.

The greater implications of what was just said were lost on Aiden as he slowly walked through the forest, which felt like a sliver from an earlier, simpler time before humans had encroached upon the natural world. Glancing over at Criosa, Aiden saw her more entranced by the scene than any of them. After a moment, she noticed his attention and blushed, seeking to regain her composure.

"This forest is beautiful," she said in a hushed voice. "It's so very romantic."

"Yes, it's very... leafy," Aiden replied, almost slapping himself for his choice of words. She didn't seem to notice however, and if anything, suddenly seemed nervous. She took him by the arm and led him away from the others, seeking to keep whatever she was about to say between the two of them.

"Aiden, there's something I've been meaning to ask you, but the time has never been right... until now."

"You can ask me anything you want, Highness," Aiden replied, somewhat formally.

"I was wondering if, perhaps, you'd consider kissing me," she asked bluntly, again keeping Aiden on his toes. This time, however, he kept his wits about him.

"I remember you saying that romance could happen at any time on a big adventure like this," he recalled. "If I start kissing you, won't I disappoint whoever it is I'm supposed to meet?"

"Oh, stop that," she exclaimed, almost laughing as she swatted his arm. "Don't play dumb with me, Sir Knight. You know exactly what I'm talking about."

"This seems rather sudden," Aiden replied in a more serious manner. "I'm not sure it's appropriate, given your station. I'd be lying if I said I don't have any feelings for you, but—"

Before he could say anything else, she stepped in and planted her lips upon his. It was a brief kiss, filled with a heady mixture of anticipation and trepidation. Aiden's mind went silent for the duration, allowing him to experience every tiny sensation of the moment. When he stepped back, their eyes were locked on each other, almost as if seeking approval from the other.

"So, how was that?" Aiden asked quietly.

"Very... appropriate," Criosa whispered back with a faint smile. "You're both brave and smart, and clearly love this country as much as I do. Being as handsome as you are doesn't hurt either, mind you. I could stare into those blue eyes for hours..." She seemed to compose herself before she continued speaking.

"We're at war, Aiden. We've all seen how life can end in an instant, and the time we have can be over all too quickly. Regardless of what may happen tomorrow, we can be happy here and now, do you understand?" Her words reminded Aiden of what Robert had warned him of, days before. She might be using him for her personal enjoyment now, because in time she would end up betrothed to another, for the good of the Kingdom. At that moment, Aiden no longer cared.

"We can at that," he replied, tousling her golden hair for a brief moment. She took his hand in hers, and together continued walking through the enchanting forest. Aiden expected a million thoughts and feelings to be swirling through his mind, but to his surprise, he found himself idly enjoying the moment, just as she had suggested.

They weren't the only ones to be swayed by the beauty of Cairnwood. Pacian and Nellise held each other close as they walked along, finding a moment of peace in a turbulent life. Criosa nudged Aiden in the ribs, drawing his attention to Robert and Sayana. Although his feelings for the sorceress had diminished long ago, Aiden was intensely curious about their growing respect and admiration for one another.

"Look at that view, ain't that something," Robert was saying to the diminutive sorceress, whose red hair flowed in the cool breeze drifting through the forest.

"I feel a strange connection to this place that I cannot describe," Sayana replied. "It is truly magnificent."

"Yeah, magnificent," Robert reiterated clumsily, "that's the word I was looking for. Magnificent."

"Are you alright?" Sayana asked. "You seem nervous all of a sudden."

"I do? Damn, I'm usually a lot calmer when I go into battle."

"I don't see any threats around us," Sayana replied hesitantly, glancing around with uncertainty. Aiden felt a little self-conscious to be eavesdropping, and gestured to Criosa that they should move further away, but the princess would have none of that. If anything, she moved them in a little closer. Apparently, she had as much desire to know what was happening between the two as Aiden did.

"That's not what I meant," Robert muttered. "Look, you and the others have every right to hate me, but you've treated me with respect, always. I wanted you to know I'm not ungrateful for that."

"Was that so hard to admit?" Sayana inquired curiously. "Are you always this awkward around women?"

"Hey, I get along just fine with the ladies," Robert bristled, "Most of them, anyway. More than once some tavern servant has been paid to stick a knife in me by a rival, so I tend to be kind of wary around women. It's just that... you're different. Special, even."

"Really? Tell me more about how special I am," Sayana said, the closest thing to flirting Aiden had ever heard from her.

"Our little lost lamb is growing up," Criosa confided to Aiden, leaning in to speak softly into his ear.

"Well, you're courageous," Robert went on. "I've fought alongside a few warrior women in the past, but they're hard on the inside as well. Whereas you seem to be more like a woman when it counts." There was an awkward silence between them for a moment, before Sayana answered.

"Listen, Robert," she replied hesitantly, "I think I see where this is leading, and I want to stop you before it goes further. I'm sorry if I was leading you on, but I've actually sworn off men. My last lover ditched me when he was done, and the one before that, well, he's standing right over there." Aiden and Criosa suddenly turned to look away as Robert glanced in their direction.

"I see," Robert mused. "If I was too forward with you, I apologise. I thought we were getting along well, but I probably read too much into it. I'll get out of your hair." Without waiting for a reply, he started striding through the undergrowth faster, easily outpacing the red-haired woman. Sayana sighed, clearly realising she'd unintentionally hurt his feelings.

"Perhaps that was for the best," Criosa whispered as she nudged them along a slightly different course through the forest, to give Sayana some space. Aiden had mixed feelings about the results of her encounter, but in the end, Sayana was responsible for her own choices.

They continued at a leisurely stroll for another hour, pausing briefly for a quick meal, before pressing onward. Aiden and Criosa spoke a little along the way, but for the most part, they simply enjoyed the magic of their surroundings in each other's company.

Spartan came to a halt at a particularly large oak tree, one that had sent its roots deep into the earth over the centuries. He reached up and placed a claw upon the trunk, and then took one step beyond the tree. To the astonishment of everyone present, he promptly vanished.

"Was that supposed to happen?" Pacian blurted, glancing around for any sign of the dragon in their surroundings. Startled, Aiden rushed over to look closely at the place where Spartan had disappeared for any sign of what happened.

"He must have used some sort of incantation," Criosa suggested, following closely behind. The rest of them gathered around as they attempted to figure it out.

"He didn't say anything, nor did he make any gestures typical of incanting," Sayana corrected.

"Spartan did touch the tree," Robert pointed out. "Maybe it's a magic tree?"

Aiden stepped past the tree as he'd seen Spartan do, but apparently remained quite visible to the others. Criosa took a different approach, choosing to inspect the tree a little more closely.

"I don't see anything here," she murmured, "wait... it's hidden. Yes, a sigil engraved upon the trunk, hidden to the naked eye but visible to those who can see beyond such limitations." Understanding her meaning, Aiden focused his vision and shifted his sight further along the visible spectrum, a trick he had learned from Sayana, and perfected by Criosa.

The world around him changed colours, eventually ending up in shades of dark blue, but with a bright orange hand print imprinted upon the bark of the tree. In the centre of the palm was a curious glyph, one denoting a passageway, or path.

"This is some sort of spectral doorway," Aiden surmised, seeking to retrace the dragon's actions. "Spartan touched it and then stepped forward—" The sudden feeling of stepping through a fine mist descended over him, and when he released his arcane sight and looked behind him, the surprised figures of his companions stared at the place he had been standing, their images slightly distorted, as if looking through glass.

They weren't the only thing that appeared different. The plants and trees in the forest around him seemed darker somehow, as if the light wasn't as strong here. Strangling vines weaved over the trunks of many nearby trees, giving the place a wild, unkempt feeling, as if everything here was struggling for life.

Well done, Spartan congratulated him from the deep shadows, as the others came through the spectral doorway one by one.

"You could have just told us how to pass through that," Aiden retorted, unimpressed by the apparent test of their abilities.

I had hoped you would be able to figure it out yourself, Spartan informed them with dark amusement. If you couldn't find a simple runic gate like that, my associates would have no desire to meet you. Thank you for validating my suspicions. Come, we aren't far from our destination. The dragon set off at a brisk pace through the forest without waiting for them to keep up.

"I don't think I like where this is headed," Nellise remarked, glancing around at their ominous surroundings.

"Where exactly are we?" Robert asked nobody in particular. "This feels like a completely different forest."

"We couldn't see any of this from the other side of the 'door', either," Sayana said. "Perhaps we have been transported to another part of the country?"

"I'll ask the expert," Aiden replied, placing his hand on the hilt of his sword. "Salinder, where is this place?"

We have passed into a pocket dimension on the prime material plane, the sword replied. There is a field of energy surrounding this entire region of the forest, separating it from the rest of the land. The sheer scale of it would require immense power to maintain, and the amount of growth around us suggests it has been in place for centuries. Little wonder I knew nothing of this — whoever dwells here has been hiding behind this shield for the entirety of its existence.

"Who could accomplish such a feat?" Aiden asked, a little taken aback by this revelation.

"They possess great power, that much is clear," Criosa remarked. "I am less concerned about who they are, and rather more alarmed at what they are doing in the middle of our Kingdom."

"They pre-date Aielund," Nellise pointed out. "Perhaps they are more concerned about the kingdom that has sprung up around their home?"

"Uh... You know Spartan isn't waiting for us to catch up, right?" Pacian pointed out, peering through the forest to try and see where he went.

"I suppose we shall have our answers somewhere ahead," Criosa suggested, gesturing helplessly at the vague trail leading onwards. Aiden considered the path before them for a moment, then drew Salinder and held it before him as he took the lead. The peace everyone had felt over the past hour evaporated as they took their cue from him, readying their own weapons in case something unpleasant waited ahead.

There was no sign of Spartan's passing in the soil, despite Sayana's best efforts at tracking him. Still, it wasn't difficult moving through the undergrowth, and after a few minutes of travel signs of civilisation could be seen. Soaring columns of white marble were arrayed along what was once a promenade, almost completely buried beneath vines and other aggressive plants. The canopy above thinned out a little, and ahead Aiden could see a larger space, less cluttered but awe-inspiring to behold.

Massive, thick trees battled each other for a place in the light above, resulting in a tangled web of greenery that had completely taken over what was once an ancient city. Half of the large, tree-like structures around them were actually buildings, covered in plant life yet still standing despite extensive damage to the intricate stonework. The ground beneath was flat and level, and cracked flagstones of some ancient design could be seen through the soil.

Faint hints of movement could be seen in amongst the trees and buildings of this alien place, enticing Aiden to go in for a closer look. A few men and women of little more than five feet in height were carrying baskets of berries and other fruits in their arms. They were thin and wore simple, faded clothes that looked as though they had once been magnificent and colourful. The most obvious feature about them, and the most profound revelation, was the graceful, pointed ears on each of their elegant, almost gaunt heads.

"Elves," Sayana breathed, as astonished as the rest of them at this information.

"An entire city, hidden in the middle of the country for centuries, populated by elves in faded clothing," Aiden noted. "I have so many questions right now."

Then we shall have to find you some answers, Spartan replied, the colours on his hide shifting to reveal his location in the nearby undergrowth. Welcome to Acadia, the forgotten shadow of a once-great elven city.

"I thought elves lived in forests, not cities," Sayana pointed out.

"This place is a little of both, when you think about it," Pacian replied.

Now, perhaps, Spartan agreed, but when it was new, Acadia was the pearl of civilisation. This is the city centre, or what is left of it, and despite appearances still harbours a modicum of its great heritage.

"When exactly was that?" Aiden prompted.

Over three thousand years ago, Spartan replied soberly. The few elves nearby paused for a moment and bowed fervently to the small dragon, to which he inclined his sleek, serpentine head ever so slightly.

"How did you know of this place?" Aiden asked the dragon.

I have visited here many times over the past decade or two, Spartan replied. My friends in this city have requested aid, and I have delivered you. The possibility exists for an exchange of services, or possibly an alliance. Please do not disappoint them, as it would reflect poorly upon my judgment.

"Perish the thought," Aiden murmured, glancing knowingly at Criosa.

"If we have been invited, then we would do well not to keep our hosts waiting," she declared, sheathing her rapier and gazing up at Spartan with an equally cool demeanour.

This way, Spartan instructed curtly, issuing a purring growl from his throat at the same time. He set off at a stately walk, weaving amongst the decaying ruins and rapacious forest with familiarity. Aiden led the rest of his companions until the forests parted and revealed an astonishing sight.

Before them, rising out of the murk of the surrounding forest, was a tall, faceted marble spire easily a hundred feet in height, gleaming in the evening light streaming through the canopy. Stained glass windows provided a splash of colour to its austere outer shell, which had an air of cold majesty about it. Unlike the rest of the surrounding buildings, this one was almost completely free of overgrown plant-life.

The chancellery, Spartan declared. Although they are cut off from the world, they know much of what is happening out there. You would all do well to heed their counsel.

as Spartan approached the great double doors leading into the building, two guards, resplendent in ancient, elaborate armour, came to attention, then opened the doors to permit entry. Their eyes locked straight ahead as they performed the rigors of their duty without question or deviation. Neither of the guards looked at Aiden or his friends as they passed.

Criosa fell into step next to Aiden as they entered the vast hall of the acadian elves. It was far more impressive on the inside, with high, vaulted ceilings and walls decorated with beautifully rendered portraits of majestic leaders, faded with the passage of time. Small spheres of glass dotted the walls, shedding a soft luminescence into the hall. Despite all this finery, ancient, dusty cobwebs were visible in the corners and the higher areas of the room, and dust blanketed many surfaces around them. This place wasn't just old; it was one step away from becoming a museum.

There was no sign of any other elves, be it guards or otherwise, and Spartan was once more resting on his haunches, as if awaiting something. Seizing the opportunity, the princess took a moment to attempt to tidy up her appearance after a day's travel in the wilds.

"You look just fine to me," Aiden whispered, leaning in closer to her for a moment. Their proximity set his pulse racing.

"I can hardly trust your opinion," Criosa replied with a sly look. "We are meeting very important people here Aiden, and I want to represent Aielund as best as I can."

"That's a nice way of saying you want to look pretty for the new people," he surmised wryly.

"Hush," she whispered back as an entourage of six guards entered the hall from the large doorway ahead of them. Like the two outside the main entrance, these were dressed in heavy, shining ceremonial armour and moved with military precision. Their cloaks were a faded royal blue, but their demeanour was crisp and disciplined. The lead guard spoke in his flowing native tongue, which Aiden could not understand.

The chancellor will see us now, Spartan told the rest of them, the dragon snaking his way forward as the guards formally parted to either side. Before Aiden could move, Salinder's voice spoke within his mind.

Keep this sword out of sight, and do not tell them of my existence, he warned. Aiden didn't dare speak, lest he draw unwanted attention to the weapon. He overcame his hesitation and fell into step behind Criosa as she led them into the central ruling chamber of Acadia, guessing only that since the sword was of elven design, they might lay claim to it.

Focusing on his surroundings, Aiden was astonished at what he saw. He had been expecting something grandiose beyond the doorway, something that would complement and accentuate the alien beauty of the rest of the forgotten city, but Aiden wasn't prepared for what awaited him.

The ceilings were as high and vaulted as the waiting room had been, but there, the similarities ended. Huge stained-glass windows tapered upwards along the walls, lighting the central chamber in subtle colours. If he looked carefully enough, patterns and shapes could be made out on the windows.

When backlit by the sun, the light shed patterns across the floor and walls, in a tapestry of light on the otherwise plain interior. The artistry of these people must have been truly incredible to create such tiny scenes embedded in the glass, knowing what they would look like projected to many times their normal size.

The scene depicted in the multi-coloured tapestry of light was of the construction of Acadia, if Aiden had guessed correctly. Familiar shapes and structures could be seen amidst the surrounding elves, who appeared to be assembling the city with magic instead of traditional labour. What really caught his eye however, was the scene that appeared to have occurred before the founding of Acadia itself. It was hard to understand what he was looking at, but there was fire, death and a light from above borne from some dark star in the heavens.

Aiden wasn't the only one captivated by the display, with the others showing varying degrees of respect for the elvish art. It was an impatient grunt from Spartan that brought them back to reality and focused their attention on the centre of the room, where an ornate throne embedded with crystals sat upon a raised dais. Perched upon the gilded chair was a withered old elf draped in the faded raiment of his office. Saying nothing, his face was pale and drawn, and his eyes were coal dark as he surveyed the visitors to his hall.

Behind and to one side of the throne stood an elven woman, just shy of five feet in height and robed in flowing, faded garments similar to that of the chancellor. She seemed far more youthful than her counterpart, yet there was a hard edge in her bearing that made her seem cold and uncompromising. Her angular eyes and pointed ears reminded Aiden of Mona, Colt's paramour from the Calespur ranges, although Mona was easily a foot taller than any elf Aiden had seen within Acadia since their arrival.

"Criosa, Princess of Aielund," the aged elf in the throne spoke in a dry and husky voice, his accent thick. "I am Lomir, Chancellor of Acadia. Our enlightened friend Spartan has spoken eloquently of you, and I bid you welcome on behalf of all who dwell in our city. I did not know if you would respond to our invitation."

"Thank you for your kind words, Chancellor Lomir," Criosa replied formally, "and also for your invitation. I offer greetings on behalf of myself and my father, Seamus Roebec, King of Aielund. I found the prospect of a civilization hidden with the centre of our lands intriguing, chancellor, and could not in good conscience refuse such a magnanimous offer."

"Yes... quite," Lomir replied coldly. Although Criosa didn't miss a beat, Aiden suspected her reference to these lands as belonging to Aielund had prompted the diffident response.

"I am filled with a sense of sorrow for the state of your once-great city, Chancellor," Criosa went on smoothly. "I had hoped to find a vibrant community here, only to discover the faded remnants of an ancient people. I have a hundred questions and more concerning this place, but I will start with something pertinent. We seek allies to aid us in a battle against an implacable foe. Thousands are gathering on the southern border of our country in preparation for this conflict. I have seen power here I scarcely knew was possible, and so I would ask if you are able to provide aid to our cause, please, do so."

"Our purpose here prevents us from interfering with the concerns of those outside our borders," Lomir explained indifferently.

"I must confess to being rather confused," Criosa replied. "Spartan rather cryptically mentioned you wished to speak of an exchange of services. What prompted you to break centuries of isolation by bringing us here?"

"Isolated we may be, yet we see much of the surrounding world," Lomir said with heavy words. "We have some few allies who keep us apprised of smaller details unseen through our arcane art. Spartan is our most recent aide and he has served us well. Although dragons are not known for their peaceful dealings with mortals, he has proven to be a powerful asset over the decades."

The woman behind Lomir had said nothing, yet Aiden could see her large green eyes had not left Sayana since the start of the meeting. The sorceress practically squirmed under her scrutiny, and Aiden wondered if her elven blood was a benefit or a problem in their current situation. Despite the undercurrent of tension, Lomir continued speaking to Criosa as if nothing were amiss.

"For years, we have sought a very specific kind of aid from the outside world, focusing our will and our vision to the task. Our agents have been unable to locate any sign of hope... until now." He spoke to the dragon in the elven tongue briefly, seemingly asking a question, and received a slight nod of confirmation from Spartan. Lomir's gaze drifted across the small group until it finally settled upon Aiden. His eyes narrowed and he felt self-conscious, until he realized Lomir was using the same sort of magic he used to sense the presence of magical auras.

"Come forth, young warrior," Lomir said, beckoning with one finger. Cautiously, Aiden stepped forward until he stood beside Criosa, a few feet from the withered elf. To Aiden's surprise, Lomir arose from his throne and stepped forward, graceful despite his apparent age. When he stood before Aiden, he suddenly reached forward and grabbed him by his gauntleted hand and stared at the ancient device.

"How did you come by this relic?" Lomir asked, his grip strong despite his physical atrophy. There was a terrible intensity in his voice which was previously absent.

"I discovered it in an abandoned underground sanctum," Aiden replied quietly, unsure of the relevance.

"Can you make it work?"

"Yes," Aiden confirmed hesitantly, glancing at Criosa who didn't have any advice for him. Aiden went through the motions that activated the ancient gauntlet, and within moments a dull hum could be heard, accompanied by a surge of strength through Aiden's body. The reaction from Lomir was astonishing — he breathed a few words in elvish and turned to the woman, who rushed over to see for herself.

"You are able to read these glyphs, yes?" she asked of Aiden, equally astonished by the display.

"Mostly," Aiden said, "although my knowledge of the language—". Before he could finish his sentence, the woman pulled Lomir aside, and the two of them spoke quickly in their native tongue. Their body language seemed to hint at desperation — about what, Aiden could not know.

"What did you do?" Criosa whispered in his ear, to which he answered with a bewildered shrug. The two elves spoke with each other for a little while longer, then finished their private discussion and returned to the meeting.

"Forgive our rudeness," Lomir said, his tone somewhat more respectful than before. "This is my confidant and arch mage of the city, Gwynne Sudina."

"We are pleased to make your acquaintance," Criosa offered, attempting to regain control of the conversation.

"The relic you bear, Sir Aiden, belonged to an enemy of all civilisations, whose name we will not speak aloud," Gwynne said, all but ignoring Criosa. Her voice was aged like a fine wine, despite her youthful appearance. "We had our doubts as to your usefulness, despite Spartan's assurances, but we see now his purpose in bringing you here."

"I don't understand," Aiden responded.

"Suffice it to say, your worth to us has been confirmed," Gwynne explained, her eyes alight with excitement that had been previously absent. "Your arrival here at this time is fortuitous in ways we will explain momentarily. To answer your original question, princess — I believe we may be able to aid you after all, and if our information is correct, you will need all the help you can get."

"I am very pleased to hear that, though I find the implications of your words troubling," Criosa replied politely.

"What information are you referring to, exactly?" Robert interjected suspiciously.

"I could describe it to you, though it is better to see for yourself," Lomir replied ominously, stepping to one side and casting his gaze to Gwynne. The arch mage extended an open palm before her and whispered an incantation. Aiden touched Criosa on the elbow and gently guided her a few steps backward, in case something untoward took place.

A soft orange glow descended from the ceiling, and lit a large circle upon the floor, which was made of highly polished black glass. Aiden and his companions gathered around the edge as a scene sprang to life before them. It was almost like looking through a window, so real it seemed, and Aiden surmised that it was in fact some sort of vision.

"What I am showing you here is happening at this very moment, for this building was constructed to permit remote viewing of distant places in real-time," Gwynne explained, her face softly illuminated by the orange glow. The scene was that of a desert, with hot winds blowing sand across the dry surface in patterns that were only visible to those looking from above.

The view moved closer towards the ground, to where a figure could be seen trudging through the sands. Aiden thought it was a man travelling through the desert, but as their point of view moved in closer, a feeling of dread came over him as he looked upon the familiar iron warrior relentlessly marching across the wastes.

"There it is," Aiden murmured, looking down upon their enemy. "The Ironlord."

"We have been monitoring it ever since it emerged from the Aether," Gwynne said, her eyes transfixed on the vision. "Hundreds have already perished in a futile attempt to destroy it, and many more will surely die unless it is stopped."

"Doesn't look all that tough to me," Robert grunted. "With a proper defensive plan, the army we've already gathered should be enough to drop it. Thanks for the visual, though, chancellor. This little meeting hasn't been a total waste of our time."

"How can you speak so casually about something that has plagued the land for centuries, destroying cities and entire civilizations?" Nellise challenged.

"They clearly didn't have a proper strategy for dealing with it," Robert replied casually. "I'm willing to bet a gold sovereign all those primitive cities just sent a long line of brave soldiers to their deaths, hoping to overpower the thing. I'd like to see how well it fares against modern siege weaponry."

"There is more," Gwynne interrupted, adjusting the vision's point of view once more. Now they could see the Ironlord from the front and all of the lands behind it. To their collective astonishment, they could see at least a dozen similar constructs stomping along through the sands in its wake, marching in lockstep with their master. The sands under their feet seemed to be dotted with the bleached bones of thousands of long-dead people, which broke under the relentless strides of the metal soldiers.

"Okay... that changes things a bit," Robert breathed as he took in this new information. Even as they watched, another golem clawed its way out of the sands and joined the others.

"It is awakening the Iron Legionnaires," Gwynne explained with a tremor in her voice, "arcane constructs of legend, designed to protect the ancient city of Sohcareb, now lain to waste and buried beneath the poisoned sands of the Hocarum desert. It is unknown how many of these golems survived the destruction of the city, but any that remain mobile will come to the Ironlord's call. This, in fact, is how it came to be named."

Aiden recognized the metal creatures from his dream of the Battle of Fort Highmarch, and knew the destructive power they could bring to the fight. They were in more trouble than he had previously thought.

"It is walking with purpose through that wasteland," Sayana observed shrewdly. "Adjust our vision so we can see where it is going." Gwynne complied, and their point of view moved until they were practically looking over the Ironlord's shoulder. Jutting out of the sand ahead of the monster was a number of artificial structures, perhaps the rooves and pinnacles of buildings that had mostly been buried in the sands over the years.

"I suspect it is simply calling up more legionnaires on its way across the old city," Lomir surmised. "Once it has gathered enough allies, it will likely turn north towards Highmarch."

"How can you possibly know that?" Pacian asked, entranced with the scene before him.

"Because a century ago, it attempted to break through into Aielund with the intention of destroying the nation," Lomir replied grimly. "Once it starts a task, it does not stop until it is complete. Being banished to the Aether only delayed its mission."

"Something is happening," Gwynne interrupted, pointing down at the rubble surrounding the Ironlord. It had stopped before the ruins and around its feet the sands began to vibrate. Suddenly, a large chunk of stone emerged from the sands, as if an ancient building were being lifted up by some unknown force. More shapes began to emerge, until the structures of the building itself began to rise up high over the landscape.

It became obvious what they were seeing was not the resurgence of an ancient city, but rather a massive construct, ten times the height of the Ironlord itself, which slowly arranged itself to stand before its new master. It was basically humanoid in shape, like most golems, but its exterior was marred by massive dents and scars. Its bulk was immense and otherworldly in design.

"It is the Lassitus," Gwynne remarked, trying to keep her voice under control, "the last guardian of Sohcareb. When all other defenders had fallen, it stood alone against the Ironlord. They clashed for a day and a night before it finally fell, but the ancient engine is tougher than I would have thought."

"Is that thing going to work with the Ironlord now?" Sayana asked, clearly alarmed at this development.

"With its masters dead, there is nobody else left to command it," Gwynne confirmed. "I don't know how it is possible, but our situation has become more tenuous than I first thought."

"Okay, now we're in trouble," Robert growled despondently. Criosa had a somewhat different reaction.

"Whatever you desire of us," she said quietly as her shaking hand reached out for Aiden's. "Whatever it is you want us to do, we will do it, if you will but aid us."

"Agreed," Lomir replied in a way that made Aiden wish Criosa hadn't made that offer.

Chapter Nine

Later that same night, they all dined in the hall of the Chancellor of Acadia under the soft luminescence of strange, yellow lanterns arrayed around the chamber. Spartan was the only one absent, choosing instead to hunt in the nearby forest for his dinner.

Two servants brought out platters of fruits, salads and roast venison, along with some kind of herb bread that filled the room with a tantalizing aroma. They ate in silence for a time, for the magnitude of what they had witnessed in Gwynne's vision weighed heavily on them all.

Aiden had thought the monsters in the dream he had shared with Salinder would not be involved in the coming fight, but clearly his speculation had been incorrect. Dozens of the ancient contraptions had been buried beneath the sands, simply waiting for a command to call them back to service. It was the height of irony that those constructs had been built to defend the old world against the Ironlord, yet were now enslaved to it.

Lomir ate sparingly from his modest plate and spoke of idle things with Criosa, the sort of topics one would consider polite to discuss at the dinner table. Gwynne ate in silence, though her eyes constantly drifted to Sayana throughout the meal. The sorceress grew increasingly flustered by this behaviour until she could stand no more.

"Why do you keep staring at me?" she blurted, glaring at the elven wizard. The idle chatter around the table immediately vanished as all eyes turned to her. For once, Sayana didn't seem to care that she was the centre of attention.

"Forgive me," Gwynne replied quietly. "I found your countenance familiar. Clearly you have inherited the blood of our people and I am wondering who your parents were?"

"I don't think this is an appropriate conversation to be having—" Nellise started to say, most likely to give Sayana a polite exit from the impeding topic. To Aiden's surprise, the red-haired woman interrupted her.

"No, I want to resolve this right now. My father was Kerik White-wolf, of the Akoran mountain people and I never knew who my mother was, save that she was of elvish blood. Does my half-human nature offend you?"

"No, though I do find it intriguing that your mother is not known to you," Gwynne remarked calmly. "Can you recall the image of her face?"

"Vaguely," Sayana replied dubiously.

"Hold it within your mind, if you please," Gwynne continued. Sayana's attention seemed to turn inwards and a moment later, the arch mage held out her hands and whispered a soft incantation. A shimmering visage of a kindly woman's face, with long red hair appeared over the oak table. It was clearly an elven woman, judging by her angular eyes and pointed ears, but the most astonishing thing about it was the uncanny resemblance to Sayana.

"How did you do that?" she whispered, staring at the visage of her mother.

"Your mind is an open book to me," Gwynne replied. "If you have time, I will teach you how to shield your inner thoughts from people such as myself."

"She looks sad," Pacian said, pointing at the image. There was a catch in his voice that Aiden picked up on, most likely to do with the tragic death of his own mother, years ago.

"I don't know why, but this is the last memory I have of her," Sayana replied simply. "She was killed by the ignorant men of Akora — that much I know. Perhaps she saw it coming and was saying goodbye to me."

Gwynne was looking at Lomir. The chancellor stood up from the table and stared at the face for a long moment, then turned to Sayana.

"You are the daughter of Sarissa Arai," he stated with icy coldness. "She was exiled from Acadia for breaking our most sacred law." His leaden words hung in the air, stifling all levity from the room as Gwynne dispelled the offending visage.

"You threw her out for taking a human lover?" Sayana asked incredulously. "Are you so ignorant, so racist..." Her words trailed off as Lomir left the table and stalked around to where she was sitting. Sayana reflexively raised an arm, as if to ward off any attempt to harm her. With surprising strength, he grabbed her by the arm, unstrapped the bracer she wore as part of her armour and threw it to the floor. He then pulled back the sleeve on her arm, revealing the intricate tattoos that flowed over most of her body.

Lomir spoke a sharp word under his breath, something Aiden guessed was not meant for polite conversation.

"This abomination is why she was exiled," Lomir explained through gritted teeth. "You must leave here by the end of tomorrow and never return." He glared meaningfully at Gwynne, then released Sayana and stormed out of the room.

"What the hell was that all about?" Robert growled. Gwynne appeared to be disturbed at the sight of the markings, yet held her emotions in check as she spoke.

"Sarissa had already ventured outside of Acadia acting as our agent, having spent many years amongst humanity, when she became pregnant. We have no quarrel over mixed race couplings Sayana, for we are an enlightened people, but for reasons unknown to me, your mother broke into the reliquary and stole the means to instil those eldritch markings onto you, her newborn child."

"To use magic of the enemy is forbidden in the strictest sense, and to this day I cannot fathom why she did so. Lomir was tempted to execute the child as soon as he found out, though I managed to persuade him into exiling you both from Acadia."

"He was planning to kill a baby?" Pacian asked in disbelief.

"His concern was for when the child grew up," Gwynne replied, giving Sayana a look tingled with fear.

"Back to this again," Sayana whispered, her distraught emotions evident upon her face. "Lomir wants me gone before I destroy what remains of the city, am I correct?"

"Yes, and I see you already know of your true nature. The only reason you were not immediately expelled is that we have made a deal with you to exchange services, and Lomir is beholden to it," Gwynne said. "You will have to head into the old city immediately if you are to aid us before your time runs out."

"Perhaps I don't want to help you anymore," Sayana muttered, glaring at her counterpart.

"We bear you no ill-will, Sayana," Gwynne tried to assure her, "but we have to protect this city. Proving to Lomir and those like him that you are not simply a disaster waiting to happen would go a long way towards generating trust between us."

"Okay," Robert said, wiping his mouth with a napkin and pushing his chair back. "I think it's time you explained to us exactly what it is you want done."

"Of course," Gwynne nodded, regaining her composure as she started to speak. "Acadia is old, even by our standards. When it was constructed over three thousand years ago, it was never intended to be a city in the conventional sense, but rather a secret location to store the wonders of our civilization and to continue researching the most advanced magic and science ever devised. This was at a time when the human civilizations of the south were still very primitive."

"You have seen the tapestry of light in the ruling chambers — it depicts the destruction of our old civilization at the hands of our enemy, and the beginnings of Acadia. But that was not the last time we crossed paths with our terrible foe."

"This is the same foe that created the Ironlord, this gauntlet and Sayana's arcane tattoos, correct?" Aiden inquired thoughtfully. He had always loved learning of history, but none of the books he'd ever read covered anything like Gwynne was telling them now.

"Indeed," the Archmage confirmed. "It was one thousand, four hundred and thirty years ago when the factions controlling Acadia had a falling-out. The scholars wanted to keep the city safe behind the barrier you encountered when crossing into our lands. The warriors who guarded this place tired of our reclusive nature and wished to use the power stored here to strike back at the enemy, perhaps destroying or crippling them once and for all."

"Part of the city was a massive citadel, constructed in such a way as to be completely sealed off from the rest of the world, if need be. The warrior faction had secretly been augmenting it so the citadel could actually lift off the ground and take to the skies."

"Bullshit," Pacian blurted, then quailed under the stern looks of everyone around him. "... Sorry, go on."

"If you have issues with the exotic nature of this account, you had best cover your ears for the next part," Gwynne advised archly. "The power of the artifacts secured in the old citadel was enough to tear it from the ground, whereupon the warriors of Acadia soared into the heavens to meet with our old foe on equal footing. Or so they thought."

"A day and a night of the most terrible fighting imaginable lit the skies, occasionally sending chunks of searing rock hurtling down onto the forests below. When it was over, the shattered Acadian citadel crashed to the ground, utterly destroying the western half of the city in the process."

"Is that what all of those artificial caves are?" Aiden asked, fascinated beyond measure.

"Some of those are of old Acadia, yes," Gwynne confirmed. "It has long since been covered by the growth of the forest, but I digress. The consequences of the battle in the sky fractured what remained of our unity. Fearing a reprisal from above, many of our people fled Acadia and sought refuge with our cousins in Arebec, far to the west. Others, paranoid of the horrors that awaited us, descended deep into the earth and collapsed the tunnels behind them, so eager were they to escape retribution."

"It was left to us, the last guardians of Acadia, to deal with the aftermath," Gwynne continued, sipping from a delicate cup in her equally delicate hand. "Our enemy did come for us, but the irony is they were greatly weakened from the conflict and had our people remained united, we might have finished them off once and for all. Instead, a year-long siege ensued, where our two peoples were locked in a struggle for control of Acadia."

"This is all fascinating stuff, I'm sure," Robert sighed, trying to hold his impatience in check. "What does it have to do with this task you have for us?"

"I beg your indulgence a moment longer sir, for all I have said leads me to that very topic," Gwynne replied. "The siege was broken when our reliquary master and his apprentices went into the ruins of the city and activated an ancient device, capable of bridging the gap between worlds. What monsters were unleashed into this realm I cannot say, but they drove off our enemy, killing the only people capable of understanding the enemy's devices in the process."

"Sounds like a happy ending," Robert grunted. "I don't see why you need us."

"Not 'us', Robert, me," Aiden said quietly, the magnitude of the situation becoming starkly apparent. "They never turned off that bridging device, did they?"

"But... that was centuries ago," Nellise protested. "Are you saying it's still open, after all this time?"

"I'm afraid so," Gwynne nodded soberly. "The artifice of our enemy is such that even after one and a half millennia, their relics still function. Your gauntlet, Aiden, is an example of that. The only downside to their devices is the language used to operate them. It is complex enough on its own, but additionally all known texts also appear to be encoded in a crypic cypher, one we have never been able to break."

"Hang on, if this 'bridge' is still working, why aren't we being eaten by monsters right now?" Pacian asked.

"Although we pale in comparison to the arts of the old enemy, our magic is still formidable," Gwynne explained. "We erected an arcane barrier around the old city, to hold back the scourge within. The demands of maintaining this barrier have consumed our society ever since." Gwynne leaned forward to gaze directly at Aiden with her penetrating eyes, lending weight to her next words.

"We are a dying people. The few dozen wizards who maintain the barrier are old, and I was the last of our people born in this city, over four centuries ago. When we are no more, the barrier will fail and the scourge within will be unleashed upon the world. Somehow, you have come into the knowledge of how to operate their devices, Aiden, and you already know what I am going to ask of you."

"You want us to go in there and turn off the bridge," he surmised without enthusiasm. Gwynne simply nodded once in silent reply.

"If we do this — and there's no guarantee that we can, mind you — your wizards and guardsmen will come to our aid, yes?"

"The demands of maintaining the barrier are the only thing holding us back," Gwynne confirmed, her large green eyes having never left his despite the tumult.

"When Spartan returns from his hunt, you will take us to this barrier of yours and give us every single piece of information you can about that part of the city," Aiden instructed firmly. "Do you have any idea of the conditions beyond the barrier?"

"None at all, but the area is not large, and I can provide you with maps showing the original layout," Gwynne answered.

"Anything could be in there," Nellise remarked quietly. "Is there any account of the creatures that were brought through this device?"

"Only that many of them were large, and possessed great claws and teeth that could chew through iron."

"Well, sure they did, otherwise it would be too easy," Pacian growled sarcastically. "This is a really bad idea."

"It needs to be done, though," Aiden reminded him. "What good would it do to defeat the Ironlord if this place comes apart in a few years?" Criosa nodded, but her silence spoke her true thoughts louder than that simple gesture could convey.

* * *

It was some time later when Spartan returned with the faintest hint of blood on his fangs. Aiden and the others made use of the time to gather their equipment and their courage. Sayana was subdued, and didn't respond to any attempts to engage her in conversation. It was understandable, Aiden supposed, considering the information revealed about her mother, but the implications had given her more questions than answers. Despite her treatment, he had finally agreed to assist, more to help her friends than the elves of Acadia.

Gwynne ignored her brooding and spoke with Spartan nearby in a manner that led Aiden to believe they knew each other quite well. The feeling of being manipulated danced on the edge of Aiden's mind, but he knew the reasoning was sound. In a few years, the city would have fallen, and whatever awaited them on the other side of the barrier would be unleashed upon the world.

"I shall teleport us to the barrier site, to save time," Gwynne explained to them when they were ready. She then incanted a series of obscure gestures and words culminating in the entire room vanishing. The effect was similar to that which Salinder had used back on the highway south of Culdeny — the same sense of being nowhere at all permeating all of Aiden's senses. A moment later he found himself on solid ground once more, standing in a dimly lit artificial cavern.

The ceiling of the chamber was easily twenty yards above, and only barely visible in the light of small magical globes dotting the area. Stalactites hung like inverted columns from above, and the steady drop of distant water could be heard. One wall seemed to consist of crumbling old buildings mixed with rock and soil, while the other was clearly the remains of an ancient fortification, leaning ominously over the area.

They stood in the centre of a circular stone platform, covering most of the open area of the cavern floor. Intricate designs were etched into the smooth surface, arrayed in circular patterns. Around them, roughly two dozen elven men and women of advanced age sat in simple chairs, their eyes closed and their attention focused elsewhere.

Like most of the other people of Acadia, their garments were thin and ancient, and Aiden pondered the thought their society was so far gone that they could not even produce new clothing.

The coterie of wizards, as Gwynne had described, were ancient. What was more disturbing though was the number of empty chairs, easily outnumbering the casters two to one. Near the perimeter of the barrier itself stood half a dozen elven guards, armed with the finest equipment Aiden had ever seen. What they lacked in quantity, they made up for in quality.

"Is that the barrier?" Nellise asked, staring out across the cavern. Turning to look, Aiden saw what she was referring to — a reflection of the platform and all who stood upon it, only darker and distorted. It completely closed off the western side of the chamber and was similar to looking upon a lake of water.

"I can scarcely believe it has stood for so long," Criosa remarked, her voice joining the faint chants echoing in the huge space. "Incantations like this generally last a few days, at best."

"It exists only through the sacrifice of our people," Gwynne explained. "We all take turns in maintaining the incantations, on twelve-hour shifts. We used to do eight-hour shifts, long ago, but our numbers have slowly diminished with time. If you are successful tonight, our long vigil will finally be over. Come, let me give you some idea of what you will encounter."

The arch mage led them to a nearby marble table, upon which sat neatly organised sheaves of parchment. Gwynne selected two and carefully spread them out over the table's surface.

"These are copies of the originals, which have long since faded," she said as they crowded in for a closer look. "The device was on the ground floor of the old librarium, where such relics were stored. That building resides in the centre of the protective barrier, which is itself a hemisphere one hundred and twenty yards in diameter."

"That's only sixty yards we have to cover in order to get to this thing," Robert surmised, examining the map closely.

"It has been a source of some frustration on our part," Gwynne said, "knowing how close we are to it physically, yet worlds away from being able to close it."

"A lot of houses were built around the tower," Robert continued, "although I'm guessing they're all ruined by now."

"Our construction methods have stood the test of time, Robert, even if the method of design has long been forgotten," Gwynne replied. "Once, when I was younger, I was bold and foolish enough to try and see beyond the barrier to what lies beyond. I created an aperture ten inches across and peered into the gloom." A haunted look crossed her timeless features.

"What did you see?" Aiden prompted when she didn't continue.

"Total darkness," she said, snapping out of her reverie. "More than that, while I was peering inside, I felt something was looking back at me. Something... terrible. A brief moment of darkness came over me and I shut the opening before anything else could get out."

"Something got out?" Aiden asked incredulously.

"I believe so, though I never encountered anything strange around the city afterwards," Gwynne answered. "Needless to say, I counted my blessings and resolved to never do that again."

"Okay, so we get to this portal device," Aiden surmised, "then I see if I can figure out how to switch it off. If, at that point, we have company, the rest of you will come to our aid, yes?"

"Yes, you have my word," Gwynne promised.

"I don't know how long it's going to take to make the translation," Aiden warned. "We might need to hold the portal device for half an hour or more, and there's no telling what's going to be coming through in the meantime."

"After fifteen hundred years, the thing is probably like a bloody highway to these monsters," Pacian muttered.

"Has there been any indication the residents have been trying to break through the barrier?" Nellise asked of Gwynne.

"Yes," Gwynne confirmed. "It is rare that a week goes by without a challenge to the strength of our magic." She turned and spoke to one of the guards, who replied with a brief comment in elvish. "Yes, thirteen hours ago there was a disturbance in the barrier."

"They may be surprised at our incursion," Nellise surmised, "but that won't last long, and we have no idea of how quickly they will be able to gather their forces."

"Can you teleport us anywhere inside the area?" Sayana asked of Gwynne.

"That would be dangerous, as I have no idea of the current layout beyond the barrier," Gwynne warned. "My plan is to open an aperture large enough for you and Spartan to fit through

"We've two options, then," Robert surmised. "We attempt to use stealth and sneak through to the portal, and hold it while Aiden does his thing. Or we can send through all the explosive power you can muster and blast our way forward. They both carry risks."

"I say we fight if we have to, not because we can," Nellise suggested. "Stay quiet, keep low, and guard Aiden while he does his work." Everyone seemed eager to avoid a fight where possible, and agreed with this plan.

"I defer to the judgement of my knights," Criosa informed Gwynne. "When you think the time is right, open the aperture and we will get started."

"As you think best, Princess," Gwynne replied with a slight inclination of her head.

You will not be required to accompany us, Criosa, Spartan said, catching her off guard. Your value is to your Kingdom, and it would be a waste of your potential if you were to fall in this fight.

"You think my capabilities inadequate to the task?" Criosa countered.

Compared to many of your companions, yes, the dragon replied bluntly. Abide here with our friends, until we return victorious.

"Thank you for your concern, but in spite of your repeated statements of command, I am the one leading this expedition. Nothing you can say will dissuade me from my task."

"With respect, are you sure you want to be in charge for this?" Robert said, adding his concern to the conversation. "I don't think you've had much experience commanding in the field. Let me be your sergeant on this one, Criosa. I'll keep everything together if we come under pressure."

"That's a sensible suggestion," the princess agreed. "But when I give orders, I expect them to be obeyed. This means you, dragon — don't let your seeming arrogance prevent you from acting as part of the group."

As you wish, Spartan purred in their minds, seemingly unperturbed by the confrontation. Aiden joined the others as they drew their weapons and checked their equipment.

"You there, guardsman," Robert called to one of the nearby elven warriors. "Show me your sword, son." Momentarily confused, the guard drew his weapon and presented it to the mercenary, who inspected it with an expert eye. Robert plucked the elegant blade from the elf's hands and replaced it with his own, heavier blade.

"I've never seen a finer sword," Robert breathed as he swung the elven weapon back and forth with a display of his expertise. "Are all of your weapons of this quality?" The guard nodded mutely as he looked with disdain at the mundane weapon now in his hands.

"I'm just going to borrow this one for a little while," Robert confided. "I promise to bring it back when I'm done." The guard glanced at Gwynne, who silently nodded her assent.

"May it bring you honour in the coming battle," the elf intoned with a bow.

"That'd be nice, but I really just need it to kill the monsters," Robert grunted. "Okay, I'm all set."

"If you are ready, please stand before the barrier," Gwynne instructed. Aiden felt his heart beat faster as they gathered near the shimmering magical wall. Their darkened reflections looked back at them as they awaited the signal to go through.

Robert and Spartan stood at the van, with Sayana close by. The glowing outline of elaborate magical protections covered her from head to toe, and she held her staff with its tip pointed towards the barrier. The staff glowed with a brilliant light, reminding Aiden and Nellise to summon their own lights, for where they were going there was only darkness.

"When you are ready to return, strike the barrier three times in rapid succession, and I will reopen the aperture," Gwynne said as her brows knit in concentration. "I will also peek inside at five-minute intervals to monitor your progress. May fortune be with you."

The distorted mirror-like surface parted, revealing the darkness on the other side of the barrier. Robert stepped forward, clearly braced for anything but upon stepping inside the breech, discovered only silence.

"Clear," he called from beyond, signalling the rest of them to follow inside. Aiden drew Salinder and clutched the hilt tightly, then with his companions, stepped through the aperture into the darkness beyond.

Chapter Ten

Their lights revealed little about the terrain within. There were few buildings still standing, in what had once been a thriving section of the city. Most appeared to have been knocked down, leaving little more than charred remains. The architecture was identical to the forest city, though blackened and corrupted by time, lending an otherworldly feel to the place. There was no plant life at all, and the silence was deafening.

"It stinks in here," Pacian whispered, as if to avoid gaining the attention of anyone — or anything nearby.

"Sulphur," Aiden remarked. "The ground underfoot seems to have melted from intense heat."

"Possibly from trying to burn through the barrier," Sayana suggested.

"We press on and get this over with," Robert growled. "If we don't meet anything along the way, so much the better. Spartan, you're in the lead. Everyone else, form up on his flanks and stay sharp." They all moved to obey as the dragon stalked forwards, his senses alert for any sign of trouble. Behind them, the aperture shrank and closed, leaving them locked inside the barrier for the duration.

You should not have brought me here, Salinder said within Aiden's mind as they crept along, his voice heavy and clear.

"Can you sense threats that we cannot?" Aiden whispered back.

The signs are everywhere — whoever the occupants of this place are, they have enough power to burn through stone. They passed by more buildings as if walking along some ancient promenade, each one blackened from the same heat that had scoured the entire area.

The portal is just ahead, Spartan remarked. I can sense the its presence. Aiden couldn't see anything within the confines of their light, so he shifted his vision to the spectrum of magic and saw what the dragon was referring to. In the husk of a fallen building was a large object, glowing fiercely with magical energies against the background of darkness.

Cautiously, they moved closer until it came within range of their lights, at which point Aiden relaxed his sight to see it better. Standing against the opposite wall was their objective, a large rectangle of blackened stone twelve feet high and seven across. The space between was filled with a glowing red curtain of light, rippling as if under the influence of a soft breeze.

"This is it," he said quietly, noting the design of the portal's frame to be very similar to the arcane generators he'd seen at Fairloch and Bracksford. Satisfied it was indeed from the same creators, Aiden sheathed Salinder and pulled the Lexicon from his pouch, then began searching around the base of the portal.

"The lights are mesmorising," Criosa remarked softly, staring at the shifting red curtain.

"Don't let your guard down," Nellise warned, her voice sounding hollow in the echoing darkness. "I'm sensing the presence of something nearby."

"Can you be more specific?" Criosa asked, turning to face her, but Nellise shook her head.

"Perhaps we should scout the perimeter to make sure we're alone here," Sayana suggested.

"No, don't split up," Robert protested. "We hold position and protect Aiden while he does his thing."

"Agreed," Criosa decided, continuing to keep an eye on their surroundings. Taking his cue, Aiden licked his lips and crouched next to the portal, where a small panel was visible on the side of the device. He flipped through the ephemeral pages of the Lexicon, certain he'd seen something similar to the shape of the portal device within. Sure enough, he found what he was looking for — several pages of information accompanied the diagram of the device, and now all he had to do was figure out the sequence of runes to shut it down.

Soot and grime covered the panel's runes, forcing him to remove his gauntlet to wipe down the surface with his trembling hand. There was a combination of seven runes to activate it, and he recognised four of those at a glance. The other three he hadn't encountered before, and he was torn between looking them up in an attempt to reverse the activation procedure and continuing to look through the notes for a specific sequence.

Absorbed by his work, Aiden flipped through the pages of the Lexicon scanning for information. He gleaned a general understanding of their meaning and decided to make his first attempt. If his guess was right, the sequence involved targeting the portal to some other place, and the runes represented various markers to identify the exact nature of that destination.

He wiped the grime from his hands as best as he could, then tapped the glyphs visible on the panel in a similar sequence to what he could see in the Lexicon before him. When he was done, he stared at the shifting luminescence of the portal for any sign that it was about to close, but nothing had changed.

"What's happening?" Criosa asked Aiden, the tension evident in her voice.

"Still working on it," he mumbled in reply, his mind more focused on the problem than his surroundings. When he heard a sharp intake of air from Nellise, Aiden glanced in her direction and from out of the darkness, saw a humanoid figure approaching. As it stepped into the illumination, it seemed to drain the light from around it, as if it were cloaked in a mantle of darkness itself.

The figure was female, and overtly so, made obvious by an almost complete lack of clothing. Looking upon them with glowing, angular eyes, she surveyed their approach. Her hair was short and jagged, rising from her scalp in a strange, flame-like manner. Although her skin was fair and smooth, it ended at her wrists and ankles where black scales covered her extremities. Her hands and feet were in fact vicious claws, and her entire demeanour was that of sultry hunger as she swayed towards them.

Aiden had studied much of the lore regarding the planes of existence, and the bizarre forms of life that dwelled on each one. He recognised this as a succubus, a demonic creature able to sway the minds of those it wanted to manipulate, or kill those it could not control.

Solas Aingeal, held in Nellise's hand, suddenly flared with brilliance, a sure sign of impending doom. In response, the strange creature let out a guttural scream, forcing Aiden and the others to clutch at their ears from the terrible noise. Spartan didn't seem to be affected however, and the dragon leaped forward and savaged the inhuman creature with tooth and claw.

"What was that thing?" Pacian gasped, shaking his head to clear the after effects of the piercing cry. Before there could be an answer, there was a change from the portal. A dull rumbling noise, as if a thousand horses were galloping in the distance was coming from somewhere beyond the red curtain of light.

It flared brighter than before, and from his position right next to it, Aiden could see an immense claw wreathed in flame come through the shimmering curtain. It was followed by another, and a huge creature covered in red scales squeezed itself into the chamber, its back alight with huge wings of flame. Aiden scrambled backwards as an immense demonic monster towered before them.

In one hand it held a vicious blade, and in the other was a metal shield fashioned to resemble a man's face screaming in agony. It was clad in black plate armour and an intense aura of heat suffused it.

Its head crunched into the ceiling, sending chunks of crumbling masonry falling onto the ground. It let out a tremendous roar that instilled a sense of raw terror into their hearts, but instead of fleeing, Nellise moved to stand before the walking nightmare with her blazing white sword held aloft.

"This blade has beaten far worse than you, spawn of darkness," she called fearlessly up to the towering creature. "You will have to do better than scream and roar to shake the pillars of heaven." In response, the demon inhaled sharply and spat out a torrent of flame that engulfed the area. Aiden rolled to one side, using the bulk of the portal to protect him from the worst of the heat, yet still found parts of his longcoat charred and smouldering afterwards.

Expecting the others to have been burned in the blast, Aiden glanced around and saw Sayana deflecting the flames to either side, like a ship's bow cutting through the water. In reply, she raised her staff and sent a storm of lightning bolts crackling across the demon's body, which bellowed loudly enough to shake the ruined building.

The others moved to support each other, weapons held in trembling hands as a host of smaller beasts charged through the portal to join the fray. Spartan let out a roar, issuing his challenge to the oncoming foes, and inhaled sharply before breathing a bolt of lightning into the horde.

"Hold position!" Robert roared over the noise as the rest of the enemy joined the fray. The monsters were easily ten feet tall, with massive limbs tipped in huge claws. Their faces were more animal than human, with gaping jaws lined with sharp teeth. Tiny red eyes glared at them in undisguised hatred.

Sayana sent a ball of fire into their midst that exploded with impressive force, knocking some of the monstrous creatures off their feet. They did not appear perturbed by the flames themselves however, and quickly regained their footing. Criosa and Pacian shot arrows upon the advancing foes, but it was Solas Aingeal's blazing light that sent a ripple of fear through the ranks of the enemy.

Through this, Aiden tried to focus on the task at hand, for he knew right away that if he didn't figure out how to close the portal, the number of creatures coming through it could be unlimited. His companions slashed and cut at the beasts, lacerating their thick hides and leaving a bloodied mess in their wake. Robert's elven-crafted blade sliced through them with ease, but those he cut down were quickly replaced by a dozen more succubi stepping through the portal.

Witnessing their arrival up close, Aiden knew his friends were going to be hard-pressed to hold off the hoard. Abandoning his work on the portal, Aiden activated his gauntlet, and felt the surge of power running through his body as he drew Salinder and whispered a word to bring his shield into being. The newcomers hadn't seen him to the side of the portal as yet, and were surprised when Aiden brought his sword to bear on their flank. Although each blow struck with immense power, he didn't seem to be dealing the killing blows he had expected.

"Are you holding back?" Aiden shouted at his sword, ducking under a flurry of claws as his enemies struck back. He positioned his shield to deflect as much as he could, but he took several blows before being forced back.

If I squander my energy now, I may not have enough left when we face the Ironlord, Salinder warned.

"If you don't help me out, we might not make it out of here alive!" Aiden shot back. Ahead, Spartan leaped upon one of the larger demons and crashed to the ground, sending the two of them tumbling around as they clawed and bit at one another.

A blast of crackling green energy soared over his shoulder as Sayana unleashed her might upon them. The monster she struck lit up with the crackling green energy before being blasted into a million pieces, leaving a cloud of ash and cinders falling to the ground.

Robert was distracted for a moment by the sudden explosion, more than enough time for his opponent to bash him with a heavy strike sending him rolling across the ground. Two other huge demons were upon him in moments, their massive limbs pummelling the fallen mercenary with terrible force.

Sayana saw this and immediately brought her staff to bear. With a brief flash of blue light, Robert disappeared from under their fists and reappeared right before her, where she offered him a hand to help him back on his feet. Aiden noticed the hole in their defensive line and rushed towards it, uncertain if he was going to be able to hold back the enemy by himself.

Very well, came Salinder's reluctant assent, and Aiden immediately noticed the sword in his hand began to glow with a sharp, white light. The rough edge of the ancient blade smoothed out and a dull hum could be heard from it, along with the powerful rumble from his gauntlet.

Although fearsome in appearance, the monsters seemed unintelligent and fought with bestial ferocity, a fact that Robert Black was exploiting to his advantage. While Aiden, Nellise and Spartan used supernatural might to dispatch the demons, the mercenary feinted, riposted and manoeuvred his way through the ranks of the enemy, slashing at whatever vulnerable places he could strike with his elf-crafted blade.

Gritting his teeth, Aiden charged at the largest of them all and slashed upwards with all of his considerable might, his heart racing and his mind screaming at him to run in the other direction. The demon moved his hideous shield to block the attack, even as Salinder sent out its deadly beam. Aiden was momentarily blinded by the intense flash of light, and when it was done the monster's shield bore a glowing red line across the front to show the impact.

"Spartan, help me defend the flanks — everyone else, drop that damned thing," Robert bellowed.

The gauntlet on Aiden's right hand was becoming hot, and he knew that his simple cleaning efforts weeks ago weren't enough to make the device completely reliable. Feeling time working against them, Aiden moved closer to the demon lord and began chopping at its legs. The demon's sword swept to and fro, sending a shower of sparks skittering across the ground whenever it glanced off Aiden's armour.

Spartan suddenly skidded across the ground on his back, having been thrown by one of the many demonic beasts he had sought to block from closing in. The small dragon had deep gouges along his flank, but Aiden and the others couldn't afford to go to his aid, leaving Robert standing alone against half a dozen succubi.

Nellise moved forward and brought Solas Aingeal to bear, the plumed blade searing the flesh of the monster with each strike. Of all their attacks, the cleric's blessed sword proved to be the most effective, and when the demon's own sword descended, Solas Aingeal easily absorbed the immense strength behind the blow.

The glow of Sayana's tattoos could be seen through the rents in her outfit, and this time a blast of icy cold air engulfed their mighty opponent. It roared in agony and actually threw its sword at her. Startled by the sudden attack, she barely managed to move as the point of the blade struck her shoulder, spinning her around and dropping her to the ground. They were slowly but surely being ground into a pulp by the monster, and Aiden couldn't let that happen.

"Sal, I need more," he breathed to his weapon.

I will not be held responsible for the consequences—

"Just do it or we're all dead!" Aiden snapped, then raised the point of his blade up towards the demon lord. Instead of a fine beam of white light, a ball of crackling purple energy erupted and shot towards the monster. It brought its shield across to block the strike, but was engulfed by an explosion of purple flame. Aiden revelled in the use of such power, feeling stronger than ever before.

When the light faded a moment later, he saw half of the shield had been vaporised, along with all of the flesh of the demonic creature's left arm, leaving only blackened bones gruesomely still attached to the body.

This stunning blow had the effect of rallying Aiden's companions. Pacian shot a bolt at the chest of the monster, only to see it easily deflected away by its impregnable armour. He spat out a curse and rushed forward, dodging around the others to take up position right between the giant's legs.

Aiming straight upwards, Pacian sent bolt after bolt right into the nether regions of the crippled creature until the cartridge on his repeater was empty. It howled an octave higher than it had before and raised its leg to stomp on him. Pacian was too quick and easily scurried away before the foot came down.

Eager to end the fight, Aiden brought Salinder to bear one more time, and without a shield to absorb the impact, the violet energy engulfed its chest, burning through its armour and vaporising most of its torso in the process. It didn't even scream this time — the demon lord simply stood there for a long moment before toppling to one side, crashing through part of the wall to collapse on the scorched ground.

Their momentary elation disappeared as flames engulfed the corpse of the monster, increasing its intensity with each passing moment.

"Get back!" Nellise cried as the body exploded, sending fire, rock and dust throughout the chamber. Aiden dived for cover as it occurred, keeping his eyes tightly shut as the heat roared over him. When it had dissipated, he rolled around on his back to douse the flames flaring up from what remained of his longcoat.

"Aiden, shut that bloody thing down already," Robert shouted through the cloud of smoke. Taking advantage of the break in the fight, Aiden sheathed his sword and rushed back over to the portal's control, noting that Criosa was standing nearby with her weapon at the ready to protect him.

Without warning, the crack of several whips split the air right in front of them, and Criosa screamed in pain as two of the whips latched on to her arms and legs, and pulled her from her feet, then began dragging her screaming and kicking towards the portal.

Aiden scrambled forward and grabbed her outstretched hand, but there was too much grime for him to gain any purchase. All he could do was lay there and watch as she disappeared through to the other side.
"Criosa!" he shouted, then picked himself up and quickly drew Salinder with every intention of going in after her. A metal hand touched his however, and restrained him.

"You need to close it, Aiden," Nellise reminded him, staring at him with her golden eyes. "I will bring her back, I swear." Aiden could only nod at her as he moved back to the panel, his thoughts jumbled with a mixture of fear and rage. Nellise held Solas Aingeal tightly and stood before the portal, closing her eyes in a moment of quiet prayer. When she opened them, she stepped through the portal without hesitation.

"Nel!" Pacian cried in protest. He started to move towards the portal as well when Robert Black stopped him with an armoured hand on his chest.

"Hold your position, goddamn you!" Black roared. "If we lose anyone else, we will not hold this side of the doorway. Aiden, get on with it already, or so help me I will kill you myself!"

"I can't close it while they're in there," Aiden protested.

We will hold as long as we can, but you must unravel the secret of the device in the meantime, Spartan said in a calming voice that belied the snarling dragon's visage just yards away.

Aiden took a deep breath and returned to the controls, doing his best to focus on the task at hand. Again, he went through the sequence with some minor changes, and succeeded in determining what wouldn't work, giving him some insight into the thinking behind this strange encoded language. He glanced up at the portal once more, hoping to see Nellise and Criosa come back through, but the shifting red light revealed nothing of their fate.

Although difficult to focus with the sounds of continued fighting in the background, Aiden flipped through the Lexicon until he saw more of the relevant runes, and with a sudden flash of inspiration, he knew he'd figured it out.

"I can close it!" he called, noticing the light around them dim once more as Sayana pulled on the last reserves of her strength, unleashing a storm of lightning through the ceiling to burn the gathering succibi. A few of them made it through and cracked their whips at her, while Robert struggled to keep fighting.

"We're just about done here, close the damned thing!" Robert bellowed as he rushed to stand with Sayana. Aiden looked back and forth between the fighting and the portal, hoping to see Nellise anc Criosa emerge. Nearby, Pacian fought off a succubus trying to finish off Spartan, and Aiden realised if he waited any longer, none of them would survive.

Then, as he was about to press the final sigil, Nellise finally emerged from the portal, half-carrying, half-dragging a bloodied Criosa underneath one arm. Most of her armour and clothing had been torn away, and great welts and lines of blood were present on most of her exposed flesh.

"Close it," Nellise gasped before the two of them collapsed onto the ground as two huge, clawed arms reached through the portal after her. Aiden, with trembling fingers, touched the sigils in the correct sequence, and watched as the red curtain flickered and vanished, with the dull hum coming from the machine fading by the moment. The limbs of several demons who had been lashing at Nellise at the time fell to the ground, severed from their bodies, and spreading a pool of blackened blood.

His task complete, Aiden hurried forward to protect his friends, who appeared all but spent in their efforts to hold the portal. Only five of the brutish monsters remained, and before Aiden could lunge forward, he caught wind of fresh forest air gusting through the chamber.

A bright light appeared from the east, growing in intensity by the moment, and as the succubi turned to see what was approaching, they were struck down by a flurry of arrows and bolts of lightning. Aiden looked past them and saw a dozen elven warriors entering the ruins, along with the ancient wizards of Acadia.

"The barrier is down," Aiden sighed in relief as the few remaining demons were easily routed by the unleashed might of the elves. He fell to one knee and leaned on Salinder to keep from falling over, too exhausted and relieved to form coherent thought.

* * *

Aiden sat on one of the plain but comfortable chairs on a platform, not far from the reclaimed ruins. He sat with Criosa, who held him close as her injuries were tended by an elven priest. She was wrapped in a blanket, and had not spoken a single word since her ordeal on the other side of the portal.

The rest of their companions sat around the wide platform in various states of injury, as the few elven priests walked between them saw to their injuries. Spartan was heavily wounded, and laid with his eyes closed, curled up in a ball not unlike an oversized, reptilian cat.

Nellise and Pacian also held each other close, as she aided healing underway Stripped of her armour, her expression was as serene as it always was when she channelled divine energies, but Pacian's dour expression could only be described as haunted.

Sayana sat next to Nellise, her head resting on her knees and her red hair draped around her like a curtain, as if to shut out everything around her. This puzzled Aiden for a little while, until he realised that the elves around them were giving her some very strange looks. Word of her true nature had apparently spread amongst the small population.

As for Robert, he sat on a chair with his badly damaged armour in a pile beside him, while he smoked a cigar. His eye focused on nothing in particular, but there was a slight tremor to his hands as he puffed out a cloud of smoke. When one of the austere elven guards walked past bearing Robert's other blade, the mercenary snapped out of his inner contemplation and abruptly caught his attention.

"I think this belongs to you," he said, presenting the elegant sword he had taken from the guard, hilt first.

"I can acquire another," the elf replied with subtle admiration. "I believe you have earned it, sir. Wield it against your enemies in the name of Acadia."

"I'll do that," Robert rasped with a nod, offering his hand to the elf. The guard shook it firmly, before continuing on his patrol. From amongst the crowd, Aiden noticed the arch mage Gwynne, who accompanied Chancellor Lomir as they finished a cursory inspection of the area formerly behind their mystic barrier. The two elven nobles approached Aiden and Criosa, flowing through the throng with eerie grace.

"You have accomplished what was asked of you, and for that, you have our immense gratitude," Gwynne said. "It seems Spartan had correctly surmised your capabilities, though I must add that you seem to have been withholding information from us, Sir Aiden."

"We all have secrets," Aiden replied absently, already guessing what she was talking about.

"Not many would be carrying one of our rare artifacts, however," Lomir chastised him. "Your sword is known to us. It was last seen in the hands of Taniir, one of our warriors who departed Acadia a hundred and forty years ago. Tell me, where did you recover the weapon?" Aiden briefly informed the Chancellor of the encounter with the dragon Vindictus at the old ruins of Feybourne, and the long-dead elven warrior he had taken it from.

"He died at the mercy of a dragon, then," Lomir muttered, glancing over at Spartan, who was obviously listening with keen interest.

Do not associate me with the poor choices of my cousins, he simply stated, lowering his head once more to rest.

"There is also the matter of the soul that resides in the weapon," Gwynne interrupted before Lomir could say more. "I observed some of the fight and was transfixed by the power you wield, Sir Aiden. Who or what resides in the soulsword?"

"An ancient gold dragon by the name of Salinder," Aiden replied evenly, even as he felt the ire of the spirit rise at the mention of his existence. "It didn't want me to reveal his presence in your weapon for fear that you would attempt to repossess it, but let me assure you all, any attempt to take this blade from me would cost you dearly."

"There is no need for threats," Lomir replied coldly. "I would only ask that you return our blade when the soul within is expended."

"They were never designed for a creature as powerful as a dragon," Gwynne added. "I am surprised the blade did not simply melt when he found his way inside. If it has lasted this long, you should have several more days before Salinder's energy is diminished and the blade is mundane once more."

"Days?" Aiden whispered, shocked at the possibility of losing his secret weapon so soon.

"Of course. My understanding of these relics is the energy captured from the sacrifice is very limited. Such power is not sustainable."

"I see," Aiden mused, more disturbed than he cared to admit at the news.

"In any case, you have all suffered greatly in this exercise and are in need of rest," Lomir continued. "Before you do, I wish to pledge the aid of Acadia to your cause. I can also offer you some of the finest equipment we have at our disposal, should you desire it.

"I can also offer you access to our vault of knowledge, if you wish to learn some of our more potent incantations," Gwynne added. "The vault stores ancient scrolls that date back to a time when Acadia was whole, and strong."

"I'll think about it," Aiden replied in a strained voice. He had no intention of going anywhere near arcane scrolls ever again, after the results of the battle of Fairloch castle weeks before.

Do not be a fool, Salinder whispered in his mind. Take what power you can, for you will need it when you confront our enemy.

"Aiden shouldn't be using those," Sayana added, raising her head to speak to the arch mage. "He lacks the discipline to control such power."

"Something you seem to have in abundance, yes?" Lomir retorted rudely. "Gwynne informed me of your prowess, and I assure you, despite your ascertains of control, you will one day destroy everything around you. You can thank your mother for instilling within you the sigils you bear. My order to vacate this city still applies, despite your valiant efforts this evening. Fear not, Princess, Acadia will leave here within three days for the defence of Fort Highmarch, as per our agreement. But you will leave tomorrow morning, and take your wretched sorcerer with you."

Sayana lowered her face between her knees to hide from the stares directed her way, and Aiden wished they could leave at that moment, to spare her more suffering at the hands of these obnoxious people.

"So, to defend this place, your predecessors opened up the gates of Hell," Robert observed, drawing attention away from Sayana. "Not the smartest strategy I've ever heard of."

"Hell is a state of mind," Nellise remarked as she absently stroked Pacian's hair. "For all their appearances, those were simply mortal creatures like us. They were twisted and devoid of compassion, or many other qualities we use to describe people such as you and I, perhaps, but existing on a blighted world that was just as real as this one. I do not believe it was their original home, but God only knows where they came from. The whole subject is abhorrent to me — I will not speak of it again." Aiden held Criosa close and hoping that with time, her memories of that terrible place would fade.

Chapter Eleven

Despite his hostility towards Sayana, Lomir was nonetheless grateful for the service rendered to his people, and allowed them to stay the night to recuperate from their ordeal. Spartan remained back at the portal chamber, too injured to move for the evening, but everyone else was more than eager to find a comfortable bed for the night.

Lacking any desire to speak of the battle, they retired to rooms that had been allotted to them. The upper floors of the chancellery held accommodations for dozens of functionaries and servants, most of which were empty, and it was to these that Aiden and his weary companions were escorted to by elderly servants. Stained-glass windows somehow magnified the moonlight and projected it along the austere walls of the long hallway in a soft, blue-white radiance.

Peering through the doorway, Aiden saw the rooms were designed with subtle curvature on the walls, giving them an organic appearance keeping with the style of the entire city. He bid the others a good night as they entered their own rooms at various places down the vaulted hallway. He was about to step inside when a light touch on his arm brought him up short.

"Stay with me tonight, Aiden," Criosa whispered when he was certain they were alone.

"Wouldn't that be a breach of protocol?" he whispered back.

"Only if someone at the royal court finds out about it," she insisted. "I just want some else around for the night, that's all." She was afraid, and seemed more like the inexperienced young woman she was instead of the leader of a nation as she would one day become. He wordlessly agreed, and followed her into her room.

Resolving to stay in his own bed that evening, he set Salinder down on the floor beside a plush chair and made himself comfortable, while Criosa ducked into the large wardrobe to change out of her tattered clothes. Aiden averted his eyes, but he did catch a glimpse of long red welts on her back, reminders of her brief time on the other side of the portal.

"I wanted to compliment you on your bravery this evening," Aiden said, both as an effort to cheer her up, and to break what he felt was an uncomfortable silence. "For a moment, I thought you might have simply let Spartan or Robert take over, but you didn't falter."

"I was never going to let that happen," Criosa answered, "but I'm not ashamed to admit that I was scared out of my mind, even before being dragged into that terrible place." Her voice noticeably changed as she spoke about her experience.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Aiden inquired as she emerged from the wardrobe in a long, flowing green nightgown cinched at the waist with a thin cord. She sat down on the bed and ran a hand across the smooth, silken sheets, her eyes flinching at the memories going through her mind.

"It was a bleak, desolate place, filled with misery and death," she whispered pensively, her gaze upon the floor. "I didn't have time to take in the scenery, as it was all I could do to keep those horrid creatures off me, and there was so much pain I thought I would pass out. Then Nellise came for me... I shall have to thank her properly tomorrow, when we've had a chance to rest. I dare not think of what would have happened to me if she hadn't come to my rescue."

"If it wasn't her, it would have been me," Aiden assured her. "With Salinder's aid, I would have destroyed anything that came near you." Criosa smiled wanly at him, but clearly could not keep her eyes open much longer. "You should rest, now. It's been a hard day for all of us," he suggested.

Criosa nodded sleepily and reclined upon the bed, gingerly covering her body in blankets until she was comfortable. Aiden leaned back in his chair and laid his sword across his lap. He didn't suspect that he'd need to use it during the night, but having it nearby was comforting after what he'd just experienced.

"You're not going to leave me, are you?" she whispered.

"I'm right here," Aiden assured her. Before long, the sounds of contented breathing could be heard from the bed, and he leaned back and tried to relax. While resting, he contemplated the warning Salinder had given him during the fight. Any attempt to speak with the dragon spirit about this resulted in silence, however.

While he was pondering this, he heard a muffled cry through the wall. Aiden grabbed his sword and quickly got out of his chair. The noise was quiet enough that it hadn't awoken Criosa, and he wouldn't bother her until he discovered the source of the cry.

He emerged into the hallway and saw Robert a few doors down, shirtless and also holding a sword in one hand. He was sporting a large number of bruises, particularly where he had broken some ribs.

Aiden silently pointed at the door to the room next to his own, and received a confirming nod from Robert as the two men converged. A faint moan emanated from the room as they stood before it, and the mercenary acted instantly — he opened the door with one hand and rushed inside, sword at the ready, with Aiden hot on his heels. What they discovered inside the room shocked them enough that they could only stand there, staring in horror.

Sayana was crouched upon her bed, half-covered in blood, with a dagger in one hand. Numerous wounds were visible on her arms and torso — long, gashing cuts that she had made to herself. She glanced briefly at the doorway to see the two horrified men staring at the grisly scene, before plunging the blade back in.

Robert dropped his sword and leaped forward to grab her, holding her blade-wielding hand away from her body as best as he could. To their collective astonishment, she used her other arm to punch at Robert. The mercenary took it stoically, even when she landed a blow on his face. What Aiden had assumed was some sort of suicide attempt, was clearly something else altogether.

"Let me go," Sayana cried as she continued to struggle. "I have to get them out of me."

"Don't just stand there," Robert growled to Aiden as he found the young woman's strength more than he had anticipated. Together, they managed to pin her down and force the dagger from her hand. When it was obvious that she couldn't continue, she went limp and began sobbing into her sheets.

By the soft moonlight filtering in through the windows, Aiden could see she had indeed been attempting to cut the tattoos out of her body. He exchanged a grim look with Robert, who was just as upset by this development. While he was wondering what to do next, Nellise glided into the room, wearing a similar robe to that which Criosa had found in her wardrobe. She lit the place up with a quick prayer and went down on one knee by Sayana's side.

"Dear God," she breathed upon first inspection. "Sy, what have you done?"

"She's trying to cut those damn markings out of her body," Robert grunted, covering any emotions he was feeling with his usual tough façade.

"Alright, I want you two out of here, right now," Nellise ordered as she stroked Sayana's wild hair softly.

"Are you sure?" Aiden hedged, releasing Sayana gently.

"Very. I have a lot of work to do here, both physically and mentally, and I don't need any distractions."

"You heard the lady," Robert said, as Aiden stood up and slowly began backing away. The mercenary released Sayana from his iron grip but made no further move to leave.

"That goes for you too, Robert," Nellise advised.

"I'm not going anywhere," he responded firmly, his eyes never leaving Sayana for a moment. Nellise heard the resolve in his voice and relented, taking out her crystal as she began whispering a healing prayer for the poor woman. Feeling like an intruder, Aiden picked up Salinder and quietly closed the door on his way out.

When he returned to his room, he went to the basin of fresh water that had been provided and quickly washed the blood from his hands, his mind still reeling from the experience. Until tonight, Sayana had always seemed to accept the price of her power.

Clearly, the prospect of transforming into some kind of monster was plaguing her, leading to this crude attempt to remove the sigils from her body. He could only trust Nellise and Robert could talk her back to some semblance of sanity.

A whimpering sound emerged from the direction of the bed, catching Aiden's attention as he dried his hands. Criosa had slept through the whole incident, but judging by the way she writhed about under the blankets, she was having a nightmare. He could only imagine what horrors were lurking in her mind, the one place he couldn't protect her.

Throwing caution to the wind, he took off his shirt and quietly climbed into the bed. She cried out in her sleep as he wrapped his arms around her, but then settled back into a more peaceful slumber as he gently stroked her blond hair. Criosa relaxed as he held her close, and he continued to stroke her hair until the events of the long day caught up with him and he too drifted off into a restless sleep.

* * *

Criosa had already left the bedroom by the time Aiden awoke the next morning. As he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, he had a vague recollection about fighting nameless horrors in the darkness. He found clean clothes awaiting him on the chair, and quickly set about his morning routine while trying to ignore the persistent ache in his body. When he strapped on his sword, he recalled Salinder had not responded to any of his attempts at communication last night.

"Salinder, are you alright?" he inquired softly. Once more, there was no reply. Becoming increasingly concerned at the sword's continuing silence, Aiden shifted his vision into the realm of arcane auras and drew the blade from its sheath. He had been expecting the same brilliant light that had surrounded the sword when Salinder had first occupied the soulsword, but now he stared at the barely noticeable aura of blue suffusing the blade.

A feeling of dread descended upon him at the implications of having depleted the dragon spirit's reserves in the recent battle. Aiden had been relying upon the blade to destroy the Ironlord when the time came, but that was clearly no longer possible. He couldn't even tell if there was anything left of the dragon within, and could only hope that with time to rest, its power would resurface once more.

When he was presentable, Aiden went next door to check in on Sayana but the room was already empty. Aiden hurried downstairs to find the rest of his companions sitting around the dining table, enjoying a casual breakfast.

"You could have woken me," Aiden reprimanded them as he sat at the table and began filling his plate from an array of fruits, cheeses and bread.

"I allowed everyone to move at their own speed, today," Criosa replied, speaking as if they hadn't actually spent the night in the same bed. Glancing at Sayana, he saw any remaining sign of her self-inflicted wounds were covered by a clean tunic. She ate with gusto, so the previous night's "event" had not soured her appetite at least. Sayana flashed Aiden a quick look with haunted green eyes that showed she wasn't quite through her ordeal just yet.

Robert and Nellise sat to either side of her, carrying on as if nothing had happened, but keeping an eye on the sorceress nonetheless. Both seemed to be very tired, a sure sign the night had been long for them all. Only Pacian had good reason to be well rested, but even he was sporting dark smudges under his eyes and seemed paler than usual. They ate in a silence.

Lomir and Gwynne entered as the servants were clearing away the remains of their meal, with half a dozen servants following closely behind, bearing all manner of armour and weaponry in their arms. Sayana responded to the arrival of the elven nobles by averting her eyes from them. Nobody else seemed inclined to show any respect for their hosts, and the tension in the air increased as the elves picked up on the fact.

"I wished to express my gratitude once more for your efforts," Lomir said formally. "As a token of our appreciation, it is my pleasure to bestow upon you gifts from the vaults of Acadia. You may choose from some of our finest armour and weaponry, and I have granted you access to our vast store of arcane knowledge, should you desire it. When Spartan is fit to travel, he too shall be rewarded before he rejoins your cause."

"Thank you for your generosity," Criosa replied, maintaining a veneer of diplomatic restraint. "I'm sure we will make good use of the equipment." An awkward silence ensued, broken only by the clink of cutlery on fine ceramic plates.

"I can see you are busy recovering from your efforts, so we shall leave you to prepare," Lomir said to cover the silence. "When you are ready, come to the ruling chambers, and Gwynne shall teleport you wherever you wish, to expedite your journey." Without further ado, they left the group to their meal.

"So, I'm not the only one who wants to punch him in the face?" Robert drawled after they had left.

"You'll have to wait your turn," Pacian muttered.

"Settle down, gentlemen," Nellise scolded them. "They are still our hosts, as well as new allies, so please show a little respect."

"I appreciate the show of support, though," Sayana added quietly. "If I ever do go berserk, please, do what you must to stop me. Also... I'm sorry if I scared you last night, I just... I've had enough persecution to last a lifetime. Thank you both for bringing me back from the brink," she said to Robert and Nellise.

"All I did was to remind you of the truth," Nellise replied with a wan smile. "You aren't broken in any way, shape or form. You are whole, and in control of your own destiny. There is always the possibility that your mother knew what she was doing when she gave you those markings. Perhaps she found a way to prevent the destructive rage that in the past overcame others like you?"

"I'm confused," Criosa interjected. "What happened last night?"

"I'll tell you about it later," Aiden confided. "I'd like to get out of here as soon as possible." They shared his sentiments and finished their meal without further discussion. When they were done, everyone went over the equipment on offer and was impressed with what he saw.

There were several suits of leather armour of a faded blue-grey colour, but clearly crafted with expert hands. The only metal armour present was chainmail, but it was so lightweight and exquisitely woven that it seemed more like clothing than armour. Finally, swords of varying shape and size adorned a rack, along with several fine bows.

Aiden decided to stick with his current gear, which had served him well thus far. What really caught his attention were a dozen scroll cases hanging off the side of the rack. He stared at them for a long moment, pondering the risks involved with using them once more. For the most part, he had survived without incident in the recent past — it was only when he had unleashed the power from over a dozen arcane scrolls that he had risked his own life.

He could have walked away. Aiden had enough self-control to do it, but given the possibility of Salinder's early demise, and the prospect of facing off against an army of golems, it left him feeling vulnerable. Aiden reached out and took all of the scroll cases and slung them over his shoulder, without giving it a second thought.

He quickly browsed through the scrolls within, reassured the language of magic had not changed over the course of centuries. Aiden was able to recite nearly everything he could see, and was pleased at the selection available to him. He was surprised, however, when he saw that one of the cases contained a leather belt instead of parchment. Retrieving it from within, he noticed a number of crystals embedded within the buckle, infusing it with some kind of incantation.

When they were all sorted out, Criosa was wearing a suit of grey leather and held an exquisite short bow in one hand. Sayana's light plate armour was heavily damaged from the fight, so she discarded it in favour of the chainmail, which she wore underneath her clothing. Pacian declined everything there, reminding them that he already had a suit of dwarf-crafted chain under his leathers.

Finally, Nellise and Robert declined any further equipment, choosing to stick with their somewhat battered plate armour for the time being. When they were set, they returned to the chancellery and found Gwynne and Lomir awaiting them.

"You look splendid, Princess Criosa," Lomir remarked at the sight of Criosa wearing their armour. "I hope you will make good use of our gifts in the coming days."

"We shall, and hope to see you on the walls of Highmarch within the week."

"You have my word," Lomir intoned. "Now, where do you wish to be sent? Gwynne is capable of transferring you as far as Highmarch itself, should you desire it."

"No, send us to the northern borders of the Akoran highlands," Criosa instructed, drawing dark looks from Nellise and Sayana. The princess ignored them and awaited a response from the arch mage.

"A curious location, but easy enough to accomplish," Gwynne responded. "Gather around in a circle if you would and I shall begin the incantation. I will see you again in few days." They formed a circle as she directed and linked their hands together. Aiden was positioned next to Nellise, and when he took her hand in his, he was surprised at the strength of her grip and the film of cold sweat upon her skin.

* * *

The change from the inner chambers of Acadia to the stark, snow-covered grounds of the Highmarch Mountains was jarring. Aiden squinted against the light reflecting off the snow, and wrapped his battered longcoat more tightly around his body. They seemed to be several miles south of Coldstream, at what must be the current border with the Akoran tribes.

"I'll never get used to that," Robert grunted, checking his gear.

"It just occurred to me our horses are still back at Coldstream," Criosa remarked as she took in the bleak landscape around them. A brisk wind stirred up the snow which skittered across the surface in a swirling white cloud. There were hardly any trees visible at all on the white plains, and the sky above was clear and blue, ringed by the high peaks of the surrounding mountains. The Highmarch Mountains were almost perpetually covered in snow, except for a few weeks in high summer.

"We won't have to walk far from here to find Akorans," Aiden replied grimly. "If all goes well, we can head west through the mountains, directly to the Fort."

"I fail to see how this could possibly go well," Sayana said rather pessimistically.

"I am hoping that their new chief, Morik Far-Eagle, is more amenable to negotiations than his predecessor," Criosa muttered. "Let's not waste any more time standing around in the cold than we have to." As the others started to move ahead, the princess held Aiden back a little so they could speak privately.

"What was all that Sayana was speaking about at breakfast?" she whispered. "I apparently missed something important last night."

"Sayana... tried to cut the markings from her body with a dagger," Aiden replied hesitantly, and Criosa gasped in horror at the thought. "Nellise and Robert stayed with her to help her through what must have been a difficult time."

"Why didn't you stay with her as well?" the princess inquired curiously.

"Nellise told me to get out, for one thing," Aiden answered wryly. "As it turned out, you were having some nightmares so I—"

"Yes, about that," Criosa interrupted somewhat self-consciously. "When I asked you to keep me company for the night, that wasn't exactly what I had in mind."

"Oh, did I overstep my bounds?"

"That was, in fact, the first time I'd ever had a man in my bed," Criosa said, blushing furiously and glancing around to make sure nobody else was close enough to overhear. "Not that I'm complaining, mind you. It was just rather surprising to wake up in your arms like that."

"Ah," Aiden coughed.

"Well spoken," Criosa smirked. "It's alright, but it's not something I'd like the others to know about. One must keep up appearances, after all."

"I understand," Aiden nodded, somewhat embarrassed. Criosa didn't labour the point, thankfully, instead gesturing for them to catch up with the rest.

Sayana found recent tracks in the snow underfoot, indicating that there were patrols somewhere nearby. Sure enough, within the hour, four heavy-set men could be seen approaching them across the icy ground, their hands upon the hilts of the weapons on their belts. They wore heavy skins and furs, their faces lined with thick beards.

"Outlanders, you are trespassing," the oldest of the men challenged in a halting voice when they were close enough. His gruff voice was laced with impatience. Criosa went to move to the front of the group to address them.

"Greetings, warriors of Akora," she said respectfully. "We represent the Kingdom of Aielund, and would speak with your chief on matters of importance to both our peoples." The four tribesmen stood there in the wind, unmoving and silent for a long, tense moment.

"Chief Morik has long sought the ear of Aielund," came the slow response from the lead man as his eyes examined the group in detail. "He was expecting you to come sooner."

"We've been a little busy," Pacian drawled, unabashedly caressing his weapons before them.

"Yet, we have made the time to speak with you now," Criosa added, just to be sure there were no misunderstandings.

"Come," was the only reply they received as the four Akorans turned and began to jog.

"Sure, I love jogging in armour," Robert growled as he reluctantly clanked alongside the rest of them.

It was approaching noon by the time they saw signs of life, and Aiden was surprised to see the war camp they had encountered weeks ago still intact. Smoke from dozens of campfires wafted into the sky, indicating the presence of a large number of people within. The city of Akoramark, their only real permanent edifice of civilisation, lay another thirty miles to the south, deep within the mountains. Why this camp still existed was one of the many questions they would be asking of Chief Morik.

A rudimentary wall made of tall wooden logs hewn from what trees could be found in this sparse land encircled the camp, easily solid enough to repel all but the most well-equipped armies. The huge gates were heaved open by other warriors as the patrol approached, barking out commands to their comrades in loud, husky voices.

There were at least thirty Akorans guarding the wall, and despite the power they had gained over the intervening weeks, Aiden felt intimidated by their mere presence. Glancing at Nellise and Sayana, he could see they harboured similar feelings, though for very different reasons.

As they moved through the camp they finally slowed to a walk, a fact Robert was silently grateful for. The mercenary was breathing hard, his brow glistening with sweat as Aiden lamented leaving their horses behind.

Akoran men and women gazed cautiously at the group as they moved between large tents and campfires. To Aiden's surprise, he could hear children laughing and playing nearby, something he hadn't noticed on their previous visit. Although a hardy people, many of the women seemed undernourished, and the few children he saw were also somewhat underweight.

A nagging sensation at the back of his mind told him there was something else going on here, and it was with great anticipation that they were led to a large pavilion guarded by several Akoran warriors.

Without ceremony, the flap was cast aside and their escort led them into the great pavilion. Although still cold, the shelter provided by the tent was a welcome relief from the brisk conditions. Furs and animal skins adorned the interior of the pavilion, along with large, exotic cushions. The guide announced their arrival in the Akoran language, and then stepped aside and allowed them to pass.

A big man of familiar appearance, clothed in cured hides adorned with metal fastenings arose from amongst the comfort. He was mostly bald, except for a short topknot of grey hair, and his blue eyes gave the impression of a man who had fought long and hard to get where he was in life. The scars on his face were testament to that fact.

"I am Morik Far-Eagle, Chief of the Akoran tribes," he said in lightly accented Aielish, after he quickly appraised the small group. His eyes lingered on Sayana for a moment before he continued. "I know many of you from your last visit to our lands. I bid you welcome, and offer my thanks for your role in returning me to power. For many weeks, I have awaited word from the north, and today I believe that word has finally arrived. What say you, Outlanders?"

Criosa stepped forward and stood before the huge man without fear. Morik towered over the diminutive young woman, and the curious expression upon his features indicated that he hadn't expected her to be the answer he was looking for. Behind him, seated upon the fine cushions, was an older Akoran man with a white beard and roughly-cropped hair. His dark eyes watched the scene before him with great interest, as if taking his measure of the two.

"Greetings Morik, I am Princess Criosa Roebec, daughter of Seamus Roebec, King of Aielund and ruler of the north." To his astonishment, she offered her hand. Hesitantly, he reached out and clasped it, pumping his wrist briefly as if he was holding onto an eel.

"It is strange that a woman was sent to speak with us. I respect that you are the daughter of a powerful man, and he shows great faith to entrust you with this task."

"It wasn't his decision, believe me," Criosa smiled ruefully. "I am here in an official capacity to discuss matters of great importance to both our peoples, but I regret to say that I am the bearer of grim tidings. I had the recent pleasure of meeting your daughter, Valennia, who was recently working alongside some of my companions. It is with great sorrow that I must inform you of her death, some five weeks ago."

Morik's stoic visage crumbled upon hearing this information, and a look of haunting emptiness crossed his rugged face. Aiden felt sorry for the man, for Valennia had been a valiant companion and her death had weighed heavily upon them all for weeks after the events in Fairloch.

"How did she perish?" Morik asked in a hoarse voice. Criosa explained the nature of the enemies they had fought, and of Valennia's courage in facing them. She left out the part where her anger had led to her demise at the hands of the death priest, mentioning only that she had been bested by dark powers that had almost destroyed them all. This seemed to offer some comfort to the Akoran chief, who managed to get hold of his emotions and return to some semblance of his stoic façade.

"I thank you for bringing me this information. It is a terrible thing to have wronged someone and missed the chance to make things right. With her death, I can never undo what was done, and must now live with that feeling for the rest of my days."

"Yes, I wouldn't wish that upon anyone," Nellise remarked with a poignant glace at Pacian. He mirrored Morik's despair for a brief instant before he bottled up feelings about his father's recent death once more.

"Perhaps you should have thought of that before banishing her from your lands," Sayana suggested coldly. Morik stiffened at her retort, and Criosa gave her a look that seemed to suggest the sorceress should have remained silent.

"I expect a naïve remark like that from an outlander woman, not from one who understands our ways," he rumbled, visibly attempting to keep things civil, a sentiment Criosa shared, even if Sayana had to bite down on her lip to remain silent.

"We all miss the presence of your daughter," she interjected, "yet we are better for having known her. We can celebrate her memory later. I must speak of my reasons for being here. A few months ago, our two peoples were on the verge of conflict. I am glad to see you have maintained control over your people, but I must know if you are willing to provide us with aid."

"It has not been easy," Morik replied, gesturing to the cushions and setting himself down. Criosa complied, alighting on a cushion just across from the chief. Robert, assuming he wasn't needed here, gestured to the door and took out a cigar. Aiden nodded his understanding, and noticed two of the big Akoran warriors followed him outside.

"Many of my people wish for conflict, that we might take back lands we have lost to Aielund in the past," Morik went on. "This was the reason I was deposed as chief, for I refused to consider war. Through your intervention," — he looked at Aiden directly as he spoke — "Erag and his closest supporters were vanquished, allowing me to solidify my hold as chief. But many other supporters of Erag remain, and I have fought off two challenges in single combat in the last two weeks alone."

"That doesn't sound at all promising," Criosa murmured thoughtfully while Nellise shook her head at the brutal politics of the Akorans.

"My repeated victories have earned me great respect, even from my enemies," Morik declared proudly. "I have even swayed many members of the tribal council to my way of thinking, something that was made easier with the deposing of Tald Black-Tiger, a man who wielded immense sway over the council." Aiden flinched at the memory of facing Tald's might, and silently wished he too could be gone from Akoran lands as soon as possible.

"Yet you remain here in a war camp," Sayana observed, unable to stay silent, in the face of the people who had cast her out when she was a child. "Your people are hungry. Why do you not return to the hunting grounds further south?"

"You are very observant," Morik noted in a flat voice. "Those in this camp are loyal to me, while the city of Akoramark remains devoted to the tribal council. Although I have earned their respect, we still differ on many issues. We must keep our two factions separate while I mediate our position, or face the prospect of a bloody war amongst our people. I will not let that happen."

"The situation here is far less amenable than I had hoped," Criosa sighed. "Alright, I shall speak plainly and let you decide if you are in a position to assist. Just over a century ago, our two peoples formed an alliance to stave off an invasion from the monster known as the Ironlord. Your chief, Reikthor, led an army of your warriors against this foe and won the day, even though it cost him his life."

"A life lost defeating a mighty foe is the finest way to die," Morik intoned proudly. "Reikthor was a hero to our people even before that battle, but since then he has risen to become a legend."

"Our enemy has returned, Morik," Criosa said to him, leaning in closer to gaze directly into his eyes. "We had thought it defeated, but the Ironlord walks the earth once more. Will you honour the memory of Reikthor, and stand with us against this implacable foe?"

"It lives?" Morik bellowed, thunderstruck at this news. He turned to stare incredulously at the grey-bearded man, who was similarly taken aback at this revelation.

"Yes, and even now it gathers its forces for a strike against Fort Highmarch, as it did a century ago," Criosa pressed. "We are not the strength we once were, Morik — can you aid us?"

"Were Akora united, it might be possible," Morik replied after some consideration. "But we are divided, and those who recognise my rule depend upon my hunters to provide for them. There is also the matter of our century of conflict to consider. Many tribes have men and women who have felt Aielund's betrayals more keenly than the rest. They will be reluctant to shed blood on your behalf."

"Besides, if the Ironlord destroys Aielund, you and your people could have your old lands back," Pacian drawled. "All you'd have to do is sit back and watch, then swoop in afterwards."

"We are not cowards," Morik growled menacingly. "Nor do we let others fight our battles for us. Legend tells us the Iron Destroyer leaves nothing standing in its wake, but it also has never struck at the Akora. Yes, there is much bad blood between Aielund and Akora, and I cannot come to your aid because I must resolve our own problems first."

"I'm disappointed to hear this, but I understand your position," Criosa sighed. "Should we survive the coming crisis, I want to find better ways of communicating with your people, and perhaps even make amends for our past affronts."

"Standing aside for this battle will not work in your favour," Sayana remarked caustically, drawing a curious look from Morik. He turned and spoke a few words in his native tongue to his assistant, who chuckled to himself. "You mock me?" Sayana accused, clearly very sensitive to their actions.

"I was simply remarking that your manner reminds me of somebody I used to know," Morik replied evenly. I am pleased that you have returned to Akora, Sayana Arai. Perhaps we can take some steps to remedy the rift between you and your people."

"I don't think you're suddenly going to become accepting of sorcery, especially in a woman," she replied defiantly. Although Aiden was listening, he was distracted by the astonished look on the older Akoran man's face.

"Sayana... is it really you?" he breathed in a heavy accent as Morik looked on with a knowing smile. The sorceress stared back at him and then turned as white as a ghost.

"Forgive me, I have been rude," Morik said smoothly. "This is my most trusted advisor and shaman, Kerik White-Wolf, soul of Akora, beloved of Sarissa and father of Sayana." The expression on Sayana's face could not be expressed in words, though Aiden was moderately concerned she might dislocate her jaw if she gaped any harder at the old man, who evidently shared her astonishment.

Chapter Twelve

Watching Sayana and Kerik talk together over food was an awkward experience for everyone, filled with awkward pauses and subdued conversation. The freshly roasted venison that had been provided became something of a distraction to the two Akorans, who toyed with the food in an attempt to give them time to think of things to say.

Despite having lived only a few days journey from Akora for most of his life, Aiden knew little about their daily practices and rituals. Of course, having lost a good portion of his childhood memories, it was entirely possible he once knew of such things, but the experiences had been discarded when Salinder saved his life. He sometimes wondered what had been put in its place.

Even as they sat on the comfortable cushions enjoying their food, Criosa continued to press Morik for aid. The chief, clearly unused to speaking with a woman of equal authority, was choosing his words carefully. Despite this, the chief of the Akora was adamant about his position — they could not help others before sorting out their internal issues. Robert, who had returned in time for the meal, wasn't concerned.

"From what I could see," he said quietly, "Morik couldn't send more than a few dozen men to help us anyway. In spite of appearances, most of their warriors are further south. This camp is primarily comprised of women and older men. But he's right — those to the south must have a world of respect for the chief, because I don't see what else is stopping them from rolling right over this quaint little picnic."

"He certainly seems quite worldly," Nellise added in little more than a whisper. "Judging by what he and the princess are speaking of, I must assume he's done some travelling in his youth."

"You sound surprised," Robert remarked dryly. "Akora is close to many places that store knowledge, such as Culloch in the east, or Trinity on the other side of the mountains. Actually, what I find surprising is that more of these people don't take advantage of this. It's almost as though they revel in ignorance."

"There is still a great deal of this culture that offends me," Nellise retorted. "Their treatment of women is little short of institutionalised slavery."

"I never said they were perfect," Robert suggested as he sank his teeth into the last slice of meat. "They're much like any other, in that they have their good and bad people. Morik's one of the good ones, and I'd wager that most of the people in this camp are like him."

"That reminds me, there's something I'd like to go and investigate," Aiden remarked. "It seems the talks will be continuing for a while, so I doubt I'll be missed."

"What are you going to look at?" Pacian whispered.

"The cave," Aiden replied. "My memory of our last visit here is a little blurry and I want to take a closer look at the walls. I think they might be the same kind as the hole I fell into years ago. If so, it means the entire Acadian city is buried under the Cairnwood."

"I'll come along," Pacian offered as he wiped the grease from his hands.

"Count me in," Robert added, yet when they looked to Nellise, it was clear what her answer would be.

"I can't go back there," she whispered in a haunted voice. "To be honest, this entire visit is becoming a little too much for me. I think I'll go for a stroll and get some fresh air." Clearly, Aiden had underestimated the effect their return to Akora was having on her. It wasn't lost on Pacian either, who suddenly experienced a change of heart.

"You know, that cave thing actually sounds pretty boring," he said with a shrug. "I'll saunter around with Nel and see the sights." Despite his flippant attitude, he wound his hand into hers and gripped it tightly, bringing her some measure of comfort.

"I guess it's just you and me, kid," Robert grunted.

"Oh, fun," Aiden drawled, giving the others a perfunctory wave as he stepped through the tent flap into the crisp mountain air. The warriors stationed outside gave Robert a friendly nod and let them pass without question.

"Making new friends?" Aiden asked of the mercenary after they were out of earshot.

"I have a lot of respect for the men in this place," Robert replied easily. "I wouldn't say that around Nel or Sy, of course. They're men of their word, and some of the toughest fighters I've ever fought, or fought alongside. It'd be nice to have a few of them with us at Highmarch when the time comes, though as I said, a few dozen probably won't make a difference."

"Personally, I want all the help we can get," Aiden remarked as they continued in the direction of the cave. Three warriors were stationed at the entrance and they also recognized Robert, permitting the two men to enter without comment.

"What exactly did you say to these people?" Aiden asked curiously, looking back at the relaxed guards.

"The truth," Robert replied simply. "I'm a warrior from the south, come to take my measure of the legendary Akorans on behalf of my employer. They seemed to enjoy that turn of phrase. We spoke a little about some battles we'd fought, compared notes, that sort of thing."

They continued through the tunnels until they came to an open area, lined with haunches of meat hanging from the ceiling. The frigid conditions made it an ideal place to store food, though Aiden recalled it had a different use a few months ago.

"This is where Colt and Nellise were held, and over twenty of our people slaugtered," Aiden muttered grimly, noting the barred doors had been removed. "Morik was held here too, in that space over there. Hopefully, he'll remember his time in captivity and stay focused on improving the lives of his people."

"Or kill anyone who threatens to take his job," Robert added. "You never know how people are going to react to this sort of experience." Aiden nodded absently, and then walked over to the nearest wall. He scraped away at the layer of frost with his gauntlet, then balled up his fist and smashed it into the wall, shattering the ice and sending out a ringing 'clang' sound that echoed throughout the complex. Curious glances from the guards at the entrance were directed their way.

"Found what you're looking for?" Robert asked sarcastically.

"It's just as I thought. Whatever this metal is, it looks identical to what was used in most of Acadia," Aiden replied quietly as he peered closer.

"Funny, I don't see many elves around here," Robert commented dryly.

"Precisely. Given the age of the place, it begs the question of what this complex was before the human tribes came along. Some kind of ancient elven bunker?"

"They don't strike me as the type to dig holes and live in them," Robert grunted. "In fact, they frown on that sort of thing, in a general sense." Aiden pondered this for a moment before drawing some interesting conclusions.

"Either the elves were acting very much out of character, built this place, occupied it for a time and then left for some reason. Or they didn't build it at all — which means they also didn't build Acadia, either."

"I fail to see the point," Robert grunted.

"Well if it's true, then they lied to us about a lot of things," Aiden pointed out. "This makes them dubious allies at best."

Your supposition is correct, Salinder suddenly spoke within Aiden's mind.

"Sal, you're back," Aiden remarked in surprise. "I had thought you were gone completely."

I was refocusing my energies after the demands placed upon me, the sword said, sounding less energetic than it had in the past.

"Wait, was there a problem with that weapon of yours?" Robert interrupted shrewdly.

"I had thought I overtaxed it in the fight under Acadia," Aiden divulged. "Apparently I was misled."

As I was saying, the construction method of this place is similar to the labyrinthine undercity upon which Acadia is built, yet neither place was fabricated by the elves.

"Who, then?" Aiden asked. "That mysterious enemy they spoke of?"

I...thought I knew this. I used to know this. Give me a minute. Aiden frowned at this odd comment, for it was not like the dragon spirit to be forgetful.

"You've forgotten?" he pressed when there was no answer forthcoming. Even this comment elicited silence from the sword, confirming Aiden's dreadful suspicion. "What else have you forgotten?"

Was I saying something? Salinder inquired. Aiden groaned and rubbed his forehead, having concluded the spirit contained within the sword was beginning to fade.

"What the hell is this?" Robert growled to the weapon. "The plan was to get you to the Ironlord so you could kill it. Now you can't even carry a conversation?"

It was not my idea to battle an army of infernals, Salinder chastised them with an intense voice. I warned you there may be consequences. Robert's single eye snapped on to Aiden and tried to bore a hole through his head with its cold stare.

"I underestimated the power of those demons we were facing," Aiden tried to explain, battling feelings of guilt. "If I hadn't drawn on Salinder's might, we wouldn't have survived."

"So, because of that bloody fight, we've lost our secret weapon," Robert stated bluntly. "You'd better hope the trade was worth it, because as far as I know, the elves can't kill the damned metal man either. That decision might have just cost us the battle before it's even started. We're both scrambling around to gather up allies for the fight, and you've practically handed it over to the Ironlord."

"Now you're just ranting," Aiden observed calmly. "Let me know when you're done."

"I'm done, but you ought to know that if this fight goes badly, I've got no problem with deserting your doomed cause."

"Noted," Aiden answered. Robert continued to stare at him, fuming, but once they stopped talking, they could hear some sort of commotion coming from outside, echoing faintly along the metal tunnels.

"Does that sound like—" Robert began.

"Nellise," Aiden finished the sentence as both men rapidly headed for the exit. Her voice became more distinct as they travelled and found the guards glaring at her. Nellise was harassing an Akoran over near the tent city.

"Is she trying to sabotage our diplomatic efforts on purpose?" Robert growled in disbelief. Aiden didn't have an answer, though he did spot Pacian following along behind the outraged cleric, cautiously monitoring the situation yet doing nothing to calm her down.

"What happened?" Aiden asked of his old friend when he and the mercenary caught up. Pacian observed the scene with grim focus, one hand idly toying with the hilt of his vythiric dagger.

"We were walking along, talking with some of the local women when she noticed that man," Pacian confided without taking his eyes off Nellise. "She seemed to recognize him immediately and followed him around the camp. When he told her to get lost, she started screaming at him, calling him a coward and a murderer."

Aiden didn't recognize his face, but the scars upon it seemed very familiar to him — burns arranged in long strokes, similar to those of the magical sceptre he had used to battle the savages. He knew then at least one of those men had survived, and Nellise had the misfortune of running into him.

"Your face is burned into my mind — I shall never forget it!" Nellise yelled at him. "How is it you walk freely among the people of Akora? Where is the justice in that? How many others have you slain in cold blood?" The scarred Akoran glared down at her, his outrage at this public humiliation growing by the moment.

Men and women around the area whispered to each other as they watched, a fact the big man was very much aware of. Pacian had moved away from the others and was slowly making his way around the back of the distracted man, the cold look in his eyes chilling even for Aiden to behold.

"You talk too much, woman," the Akoran growled in halting Aielish. "You should know your place. Woman not tell men how to fight war!"

"I will not be silent," Nellise snarled, the angriest Aiden had ever seen her. "You are using that word as an insult. The women of Akora are better than that, you barbarian." She hustled over to the nearest tent and grabbed one of the women by the arm, pulling her to her feet. She was several inches taller than Nellise, with robust arms and a full figure, apparently used to work and hardship.

"From what I have seen, women do most of the work around here," Nellise declared loudly. "They cook, clean, bear and raise your children, yet have almost no say in the internal workings of your society." Aiden appreciated that Nellise was an educated woman, though he suspected some of the longer words were being lost on her target audience.

"Yet you take every opportunity to belittle them, tell them to stay quiet," she pressed. "What do you contribute? You lord yourselves over the rest, taking your assumed rightful place at the head of your world, but from what I've seen, you have no better claim to rule than any other tyrant. The women of Akora could easily run this society. They are just as strong and determined as the men, yet they do not treat others as lesser people, or I'd wager, put helpless captives to death."

Engrossing as her confrontation was, Aiden noticed the imposing figure of Chief Morik storming across the compound with Criosa struggling to keep up. His anger was understandable to some degree, but it was the look on the princess's face that had Aiden worried.

"Dame Nellise, you overstep your authority," Morik growled at her, the control evident in his voice. "How dare you accost one of my people in public! If you have a problem, you should have spoken to me first."

"You knew of what happened to us at the hands of your people, yet this man continues to walk freely amongst you?" Nellise shot back, undaunted. "What manner of man are you who will not defend the honour of innocents? By permitting crimes of this nature to go unpunished, you are little better than the tyrant you replaced, sir!"

"It is not your place to dictate how I govern my people!" Morik roared.

"I can only hope you learn the lessons your own daughter was trying to teach you," Nellise pressed. "You strike me as an enlightened man by the standards of your people, but if you hadn't been so wrapped up in tradition and bowing down to the whims of the ignorant, perhaps Valennia would still be alive today. You have dishonoured her memory."

There were a number of Akoran men in the area who listened to her tirade with growing outrage. Those who could not speak the language had others translate for them, and the environment was growing increasingly hostile. With her attention firmly upon Morik, Nellise failed to see the scarred Akoran man draw a hatchet from his belt, but fortunately, Pacian was on the alert. With a quick slice from one of his daggers, the hatchet fell to the ground, along with a line of blood that stained the snow.

The scarred warrior clutched at his hand and whirled to face Pacian with rage in his eyes. Before it came to blows however, Morik intervened.

"Enough!" he bellowed. "The Outlanders are expelled from Akoran lands. I give you one hour to leave before I have you removed."

"Perhaps we are better off without your aid," Nellise remarked quietly, eyeing the man who had participated in the slaughter of helpless men and women. "If you cannot treat your own people with respect, I cannot expect you to show respect for others, let alone a desire to support the pillars of civilization. May God have mercy upon you if we fail in our task." With that, she turned and with Pacian in tow and stalked away.

"As much as I'm disappointed with the outcome of this meeting, I must say I am in total agreement with her message, if not the method of its delivery," Criosa said quietly to Morik, whose stoic features were unreadable. "I still believe there is a brighter future for both of our peoples, but it is further off than I had hoped. I will take my people and leave immediately. You will have no further contact from us, and I expect the same from you."

Morik remained silent as Aiden and his companions turned and followed Nellise back to the large pavilion, watching cautiously as the crowd of Akoran onlookers slowly dispersed. Unaccustomed to public displays of a controversial nature, they seemed stunned by Nellise's words, and more than one woman looked at her with respect as she strode past.

Sayana stood watching the proceedings with her father at the entrance to the pavilion, concern evident upon her face even as her eyes were brimming with tears. As Nellise approached, Sayana moved forward to embrace her. At first uncertain of the reason, Aiden looked at Kerik and noted that his jaw was set in an obstinate line, and he looked upon his daughter with hard, flinty eyes.

"We're leaving," Nellise whispered to the sorceress, who sniffled and wiped the moisture from her eyes. What few supplies they had left in the tent were quickly gathered up by the ladies, while Robert stood across from Kerik, observing him meaningfully. Kerik made a move towards Sayana, possibly to get her attention, but one raised gauntlet from the steely-eyed mercenary stopped him in his tracks. Once they had left the tent and moved away from the area a little, Robert stepped in and stood nose-to-nose with the shaman, one hand on his sword.

"I didn't hear what you said to her, but I can take an educated guess," Robert growled quietly. Kerik didn't back down, but neither did he make a move against the dangerous man. "Akora's hatred of magic is well known, despite the crazy bullshit I've heard shaman's like you perform. You've got a bit of a double-standard there, but I'm not going to judge you on that. Treating your own flesh and blood like a monster, now that's something I take issue with. That daughter of yours has more courage in her thumb than half of your goddamned people put together. I ought to know, because she kicked my sorry behind halfway to hell and back."

"I have no power," Kerik retorted in surprisingly clear Aielish. "I am simply the conduit for the will of our ancestors. To compare Those Who Walk Among Us to the unholy power Sayana is afflicted with is an affront to all the generations that have come before me. Hers is a power without heart or soul, the living energy stripped of anything found in nature, and corroding everything it touches."

"What about your wife?" Robert pressed. "Was she an affront to you as well? Or did you try and 'cure' her of her 'affliction'?" His voice dropped to little more than a whisper. "Do her screams haunt you at night?"

"Enough!" Kerik spat. "I will not be lectured to by an Outlander on the manner in which we conduct our lives. Your people have done enough harm here today — begone, and take your uncouth women with you." Robert sneered back at the old shaman as he slowly turned and began to follow the path taken by the rest of them, with Aiden falling into step beside him.

"Don't ever tell Sayana I did that," Robert asked of Aiden as they trod through the snow.

"What, defend her honour? Yeah, women hate that," he drawled as they hurried to catch up to the rest.

* * *

They headed west, leaving the flat country of the High Plains and entering the frozen, rocky slopes of the Highmarch Mountains. Towering pine trees, all but absent on the plains, appeared with greater frequency as the day wore on, and signs of life were returning to the frozen slopes as spring finally began to impact the higher altitudes of southern Aielund.

It was Criosa's intention to cut directly across to the fort, which lay over forty miles away. Given the difficult conditions, this would probably take them nearly two days. Aiden walked apart from the others for a time, hoping to speak privately with Salinder without the others overhearing. Thankfully, Robert hadn't mentioned anything he'd learned in the cave, for Aiden dreaded the discussion that would erupt if the rest of his companions learned their primary weapon against the Ironlord was broken.

"Salinder, we need to talk," Aiden whispered as he carefully moved through the brilliantly lit snow-covered landscape.

I am listening, the sword replied in his mind with a strong, deep voice. If Aiden hadn't heard of the dragon spirit's faded state back in the cave, he wouldn't have guessed Salinder was on the verge of truly dying.

"How much time do you have left?"

That cannot be quantified, given the unknown variables in such an equation, came the glib response.

"Stop avoiding the issue," Aiden whispered harshly. "We may face the Ironlord and its army within days — will you last that long?"

Even if I do, I no longer have the power to destroy it, Salinder admitted.

"Do you know of any other way to harm it?"

If I did, do you not think I would have tried other measures already? I had a limited window of opportunity to exact my revenge upon it, and that window has now closed. I... The dragon's voice trailed off for a moment in mid-sentence.

"Sal?" Aiden whispered, alarmed at the sudden silence which grew longer until he realised Salinder wasn't going to continue. A chill ran along Aiden's spine as he came to realize just how far gone his ally was.

"Go back to sleep, Sal," he whispered, then he hurried to catch up with the others while he pondered the implications.

As the sun sank below the horizon, Sayana suggested they make camp for the night in a sheltered copse. It was the first time she had spoken since leaving Akora, for nobody had tried to force a conversation with her during the journey.

Later, they sat around the campfire and ate a simple meal Sayana had cooked for them. There was a measure of caution amongst the group following the events in Akora, and a certain weariness that cast a pall over the meal. So, it was a surprise when Sayana began to speak.

"I lived in this area for many months after I was abandoned," she began, her green eyes catching the light of the fire. "There are some caves around here that provide good shelter in the winter, and small game is plentiful. I think my people expected me to starve out here, but my father had taught me to hunt and survive, because he knew what would happen to me if my true nature was discovered."

"If he saw it coming, why didn't he stop it?" Robert asked.

"My father was torn between his love for me, and the pressure of dealing with the impact my mother and I were having on our society," Sayana explained. "At least, that's what he told me. He reminded everyone that killing a witch would bring a curse on the killer, just to make sure nobody tried to murder me in the night. I suppose I should be grateful for what little he did for me, but he thinks I'm just as tainted as the others believe me to be. I don't think I'll ever return to Akora not after today."

"It's their loss," Robert said with a shrug.

"What did happen to your mother?" Pacian asked of Sayana. "She was alive when you were kicked out, right?" She didn't answer immediately, and Aiden suspected she was steeling herself to deal with some unpleasant facts.

"I never knew, until I spoke to my father about it," she said without emotion. "When Sarissa learned of my exile, she went berserk, slaying the men who had thrown me out and threatening to destroy a good part of the tribe if she didn't get her answers. Alone, she was no match for the combined might of the Akoran shamans. She was burned at the stake that very evening." Nellise and Criosa gasped at this revelation, and Aiden could barely believe it himself.

"I bet Kerik was watching the whole thing, too," Robert grunted. "He could have at least had the courage to stand by his woman until the end."

"You must have been furious," Pacian remarked, simmering with rage. "Why didn't you take revenge on that despicable bastard when you were alone together? He must have known what his people were going to do to his wife."

"I'd be lying if I said I hadn't thought about it," Sayana whispered back, "but if I were to do so, if I summoned all my power and scattered his body to the winds, I would only be confirming their opinion of me. Ultimately, I have to be better than that if I truly want to effect change and honour my mother's memory." Nellise put her arm around Sayana's shoulder and held her close, a tear trickling from her cheek.

"You two have had an eventful day," Criosa remarked, wiping moisture from her own eyes. "I have a world of respect for you both, for things could certainly have turned ugly had you decided to seek revenge. I don't think any of us would have objected. I only wish I had known everything that happened to you in the past prior to coming here, for then I might not have been so forceful in my desire to gain the Akorans as allies."

"It took a lot of effort to tell you of this even now," Sayana explained with a tired voice. "I'm still not entirely used to sharing such personal information, but you've all done so much for me over the past few months — if I can't trust you, who can I trust? Anyway, I am utterly spent, so if you'll excuse me I'm going to sleep."

"I think we should all turn in, for tomorrow, we arrive at Fort Highmarch, where the real work begins," Criosa said.

"We should set guards through the night, this close to Akoran lands," Robert advised. "I'd volunteer, but I could use some kip first."

"I'll take the first watch," Aiden offered, adjusting his sword belt as he stood up.

"I'll relieve you after midnight," the mercenary agreed as he settled down by the fire. Pacian and Nellise found each other, as expected, and curled under a blanket together, while the other two women settled into their bedrolls for the night.

Aiden stepped outside the range of the firelight and magically shifted his vision so he could see by the faint moonlight coming through the overhead clouds. Finding a nearby tree to lean on, he craned his neck around and made sure all was safe before taking out one of the scroll cases strapped to his back and retrieving the belt that was coiled up within.

Precious gemstones embedded into the buckle indicated it held a powerful incantation, and shifting his vision once more he could see the aura of power suffusing it. A number of runes were etched around the edge of the buckle, and with a simple word Aiden knew he could invoke the power of the device. He recognized several of the sigils upon it as protective designs, and silently thanked his benefactors for allowing him to use what was clearly an ancient and powerful device.

Aiden was suddenly jolted out of his reverie by the sound of somebody approaching from the camp. He relaxed when he saw Criosa creeping through the snow-covered forest toward him, her blond hair visible even in the dim light.

"You should be sleeping," Aiden advised in a quiet voice, releasing the hilt of his sheathed sword.

"I tried, but there are things waiting for me in my dreams," she whispered back, wrapped tightly in her blanket and appearing exhausted. "Do you mind if I stand watch with you for a while?"

"I could use an extra pair of eyes," Aiden replied with a wan smile, his concern for the woman he had grown to both admire showing in his voice.

"We didn't do well today," she continued. "Akora has several thousand warriors deep in their territory, none of whom will be coming to our aid this week."

"You couldn't have known they'd be on the verge of a civil war," he suggested. "I also think it'd be the height of hypocrisy to accept the aid of a people whose laws and traditions we find so abhorrent."

"Right now, I'd ally with Tulsone if it would save our Kingdom."

"Your father tried that already, remember?" Aiden reminded her. "Don't worry, we've a thousand dwarves and a hundred acadian elves coming to our aid. We can win this yet."

"The dwarves are mostly engineers, and the elves haven't fought a war since they took refuge behind that shield of theirs," Criosa sighed, leaning against Aiden for comfort. "After what Gwynn showed us in Acadia, I don't know if it's going to be enough."

He was about to put his arm around her when the sound of heavy footsteps on the earth shook the snow from the trees around them. They turned to see something large moving through the forest, with the glint of metal reflecting moonlight off its body.

Criosa crouched behind Aiden as he drew Salinder and summoned his arcane light, so that he might better see what they were facing. His heart was racing at the prospect of some great monster coming to fight them, but to his relief, he saw that it was Spartan wending his way through the trees.

Fear not, it is only I, the dragon reassured them in his mind-voice.

"Why didn't you say something earlier," Aiden breathed, feeling Criosa slump against his back.

I like to make a dramatic entrance wherever possible, the dragon drawled, surprising Aiden with his heretofore absent sense of humour.

"Well, it's good to see you restored to full health, and then some," he mused, taking in the sight of the dragon clad in metal armour. It was similar to the plate mail barding one might find on a knight's horse, adapted for Spartan's serpentine physique. It was intricately carved with sigils and runes upon its glittering surface, and a quick scan with his arcane sight revealed the tremendous enchantments that lay upon it.

"Good God," Criosa breathed as she viewed the spectacle of the armoured dragon before them. "That armour must be worth a small fortune."

The people of Acadia are generous of spirit, Spartan replied. They had long promised me payment worthy of my stature, and in finally seeing the task to a successful conclusion, I was thusly rewarded.

"It's a pity they didn't give it to you before we went in to close that portal," Aiden mused. "You were lucky to survive that fight."

A fact which is not lost on me, the dragon growled, craning his neck around as if to show off his gift to the best effect. This leads me to a rather troubling admission. Despite my natural talents, I am not invulnerable. My arrogant presumption almost led to my death, and that is a humbling realisation for one of my kind. Never again will I underestimate our enemies, or my allies.

"What exactly are you saying?" Criosa pressed, clearly looking for some sort of concession from the great creature.

We are about to fight a war. In war, there can only be one leader, for disunity brings defeat. I had presumed only I would be capable of leading you to victory, but one can only lead if one's followers permit it. Your companions believe in you, Princess Criosa. They do not know or trust me and as such, I am useless in this role. To stand a chance at victory, we must be united. Criosa stepped out from behind Aiden and moved to stand before the armoured dragon, peering up at his sleek jaw with a slight smile making its way across her petite features.

"Are you saying you will no longer contest the leadership of this mission with me?"

No, I will not, Spartan replied gravely. Despite your lack of experience, Criosa, your bravery in the face of overwhelming evil has impressed me greatly. You have earned my respect, as well as my honest and unswerving loyalty until the end of the impending war. It is mortals such as yourself that renew my faith in your species.

"I accept your oath of service," Criosa whispered formally, an expression of wonder upon her face as the dragon bent down on one foreleg and bowed his great head in submission to her authority. The majesty and spectacle of this moment was not lost on Aiden, who watched as Criosa gently laid one hand upon Spartan's head, sealing the pact between them with a simple, heartfelt gesture.

Chapter Thirteen

Aiden jolted awake shortly after dawn, the fleeting images from a nightmare at the edge of his consciousness. It was then he noticed his arms were wrapped around someone within his bedroll.

"Stop squirming," Criosa mumbled from under the blanket, rolled over until she was nose to nose with him, her hair a captivating golden tangle shining in the cold light.

"I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't be here with you," Aiden whispered apologetically. "To be honest, I don't even remember getting in."

"This is your bedroll, dummy," Criosa whispered back with a sleepy grin. "I was having trouble sleeping, so I threw caution to the wind. I hope you don't mind."

"Oh," Aiden replied lamely, gazing into her blue eyes while trying to come up with something else to say.

"Could you two speak up a bit?" Robert called from across the camp. "My hearing's not what it used to be." The sound of Nellise's quiet laughter made Aiden roll over awkwardly, to find the rest of their companions already dressed and preparing breakfast a few yards away.

"Our secret is out," Criosa laughed, blushing a bright red as she buried her face into his chest. Reluctantly, Aiden climbed out of the bedroll into the freezing mountain air and stretched, trying to ignore the inquisitive expressions of his friends. Criosa dressed herself under the covers, while Aiden hopped around on the freezing ground looking for his boots. After he was fully dressed, he helped out at the campfire by stirring the thick soup, keeping his eyes to himself and feeling very self-conscious for the duration.

Spartan observed their morning rituals from a few yards away, the metal-clad dragon uninterested in any food or conversation, seemingly content to watch in silence. While the others marvelled at the appearance of their ally, Aiden noticed Pacian appeared quite haggard indeed. His blond hair was slack and he hadn't shaved in days. It was his eyes that were of greatest concern to Aiden, for they were lacklustre and flat, rimmed with red and pouched in black.

Aiden recalled what Robert had said about him days ago, that Pacian was dealing with something dark within. Nellise wasn't oblivious to this fact, and even after the taxing events of the previous day she doted on him, bringing him food and even going so far as to use her crystal to channel energy into the exhausted young man.

Eager to finally reach their destination, the group kept their usual chat to a minimum and set out as soon as they were ready, walking through the frozen forest with a spring in their steps. The effect upon their morale of Spartan's return was tangible, especially since he had rejoined their group to serve, not undermine Criosa's position as leader of their small group.

He even made an effort to speak with everyone in the group as equals instead of as lesser creatures. Spartan listened intently to the events that took place in Akora, offering sympathetic comments to not only Nellise, but Sayana as well. His acceptance of her, sorcery and all, was astonishing considering his earlier reticence, yet her reaction to the dragon was one of deep suspicion. She eventually told him in no uncertain terms that she had no interest in becoming friends. Spartan did not take offence, and gave her the space she clearly wanted.

In spite of this, for the first time since they had set out from Fairloch there was a tangible feeling of camaraderie within the group, a sense they were a cohesive unit, ready to deal with any challenges that lie ahead. Sayana set a blistering march that ate up the miles.

It was well after the sun had passed its peak when they emerged from the depths of the forest onto a relatively clear path through the mountains.

"Sy, can you make out any recent tracks along this road?" Robert asked. "I don't see much to indicate an army of dwarves has moved past here recently."

"Give me a few minutes," she replied, crouching to investigate the snow for signs of recent passage.

"I think it's probably too soon to expect the dwarves of Stonegaard to have arrived at the fort," Criosa mused.

"They'd better move their asses then, or they're going to miss all the fun," Robert muttered, evidently in a bad mood.

"By 'fun', I assume you mean 'our deaths'," Pacian retorted.

"... Yeah, basically," Robert conceded. Aiden caught his eye and glared at the mercenary, trying to indicate he didn't want Salinder's deteriorating condition known by the entire group. Robert rolled his eye and went silent, an exchange that was not lost on the sharp-eyed Pacian.

"What was that about?" he inquired suspiciously.

"I just don't want people giving up hope," Aiden interjected before Robert could speak. "Keep your mind open to the possibility that we can win this fight, until all options are exhausted."

"Well spoken," Nellise murmured.

"There are recent tracks here, less than a day old," Sayana called from around twenty yards away, on the bridge itself. "Ten, maybe as many as twelve people in heavy boots went through here very fast, carrying a lot of equipment."

"The rangers, perhaps?" Aiden suggested.

"That would be my guess," she replied, "but there is no sign of an army. If there were, you would have seen their passage with your own eyes."

If you desire to know their location, I can scout to the north, Spartan offered.

"I think it'd be wise to know if they're actually coming or not," Robert advised, to which Criosa nodded thoughtfully.

"See what you can find, but meet us at the entrance to the fort around sundown," she instructed the dragon, who immediately spread his wings and took to the skies.

"It's rather nice of him to simply do what I ask without a fight, for a change," Criosa remarked wistfully. "Come, I wish to sleep in a proper bed tonight." She gestured at Sayana to continue on ahead, and they fell into place behind her along the cold highway.

The sun was hovering over the western horizon as the walls of Fort Highmarch came into view at long last, a dirty grey bulwark of stone jutting out of the frozen peaks around it.

Spartan timed his return perfectly, just as Aiden and his companions were approaching the gates of the fort. The waning sunlight reflected off his shining armour as the dragon descended from the heavens. He flared his wings and sent up a storm of white powder snow as he set down on the road behind them, to the sounds of alarm from inside the gates.

"We all knew that was going to happen, right?" Pacian remarked as the sounds of the guards readying their weapons could be heard.

"I was rather hoping my presence would allay their fears," Criosa sighed.

"I don't think they're looking at us," Aiden remarked dourly.

"Who approaches the gate?" called a tremulous voice from the top of the wall.

"I am Sir Aiden Wainwright," Aiden shouted back, "escorting Her Highness Princess Criosa Roebec, heir to the throne, and her entourage from Fairloch. Tell your men to lower their weapons, for the dragon is an ally, come to bolster our defence at the fort." There was silence from the wall, interrupted only by the faint whispers of a heated discussion from the guards drifting on the winds. Several men peered down at them to confirm this with their own eyes before the huge gates cracked open, parting to allow the strange group to enter the fort.

The guards clearly had their doubts about this story, for while Aiden and the others were permitted entry, the bailey was lined with men armed with pikes who watched their progress into the fort cautiously.

A clean-shaven man in officer's garb stepped through them to confront Aiden's party directly.

"I recall the name Aiden Wainwright, but the last time we met you were no knight, sir," the captain said to him warily. Aiden recognised the man from their brief meeting at Bracksford, right after the attack from the Steel Tigers.

"Your Highness, it is an honour and a privilege to have you within our walls once more," the captain said with a bow, "though I must confess I was not expecting your visit, especially with such diverse companions in tow."

"Events require my presence here at this time, Captain," Criosa explained, her tone and language shifting into a more formal expression. "Allow me to introduce Spartan, a valuable ally who has deigned to assist us in the coming days."

"... Hello," the captain said hesitantly, looking at the dragon with something akin to awe. Spartan didn't 'speak' in his usual fashion, instead choosing to reply with a throaty purr that did nothing to calm the nerves of the assembled men.

"Have you, by chance, admitted entry to a group of rangers in the past few days?" Criosa asked as she took the captain by the arm and began moving the group towards the inner gate.

"Yes, Commander Armin Wise arrived with a number of rangers recently, though he was tight-lipped concerning his orders for coming here."

"Good. He and his people are the first of many more allies we anticipate arriving here within the next few days," Criosa confided. "See to their needs, Captain."

"You can count on it, Highness," Marshald replied dubiously, "I'm curious as to why we are receiving reinforcements."

"I'll be sure to have you briefed on the situation before the end of tomorrow, Captain, but for now I wish to see Lord Alastair at his earliest convenience, to speak of some delicate matters."

"I will see to it that your request is conveyed, but to be honest, I don't know when he will be free for an audience, Highness," Marshald responded delicately. Criosa looked at the captain in mild disbelief at this news, stopping their slow procession just before the main gate.

"Is there some reason the baron would be unable to meet with the king's daughter?" she asked with the slightest hint of displeasure. This wasn't lost on Marshald, who suddenly became quite uncomfortable.

"Forgive me, Highness, but I suppose you haven't heard yet," he said. "It is with great sorrow that I have to inform you that his beloved wife, Lady Saffron, passed away a week ago."

"Oh no," Criosa breathed. "I knew she had been ill, but... the priests were unable to do anything for her?"

"None of their prayers had any lasting effect and, in the end, she simply couldn't go on," the captain explained sadly. "The entire fort has been in mourning, though none has felt her passing as keenly as His Lordship."

"Understandably so," Nellise offered in sympathy. "Nobody would expect him to continue working under these circumstances."

"I will see him at once, whether he wants to or not," Criosa insisted. "I must offer my condolences to the poor man immediately."

"At once, Highness," the captain agreed, nodding to men on the inner wall who controlled the gate before them. With a shudder and a clank of heavy chains, the gate opened.

With Spartan bringing up the rear of their contingent, the group entered the inner courtyard and saw the grey stone of the keep rising up before them. It wasn't nearly as large as the castle at Fairloch, but it was covered in crenulations and other defensive structures permitting a thorough defence of the inner courtyard, should the walls ever be breached.

There weren't many people braving the freezing conditions inside the walls, except for the few guardsmen on duty, or a local resident out on some important task. So, it was that their entourage went largely unnoticed amongst the small, squat stone buildings constructed against the inner walls.

It was a cold, austere place that would be hard to live in under the best of conditions. Aiden didn't envy anyone forced to dwell here for the long term, but such was the price paid to secure the vital southern approach to the Kingdom. While the others seemed vaguely unimpressed with the old fort, Robert was taking an intense interest in his surroundings, especially the walls. He moved forward to walk alongside Captain Marshald and caught his attention.

"My sight isn't what it used to be captain, but it seems to me your walls aren't looking too solid."

"Nothing wrong with your vision, sir," Marshald remarked to the mercenary. "We were supposed to shore up the defences months ago, but the baron had been preoccupied with his late wife's welfare of late. I've done what little I can with the supplies at hand, though I don't have the authority to carry out the extensive repairs needed to properly secure this place."

"All the more reason for me to speak with Lord Alastair right away," Criosa pressed. "I know the way from here, Captain. Perhaps you could take Robert on a tour to inspect the defences and make notes about any emergency work that needs to be done?"

"Certainly, Highness," Marshald agreed, shaking Robert's offered hand.

"Nellise, Aiden and I shall meet with His Lordship, but the rest of you can find lodgings at the Bulwark, on the western side of the courtyard. Spartan, I'm not sure what to do with you, frankly. I don't think the stables would be an appropriate place for you."

I will go and hunt, and return this evening, he replied, to the shock of Captain Marshald. I do not need to sleep for several more days, so I will sit watch over the fort during the night. Captain, please inform your men that I am no threat to them. I would not wish to harm anyone in my own defence.

"Yes... yes, I'll let them know," the captain mumbled in reply.

"Don't let him intimidate you, captain," Robert offered in reassurance, putting his arm around the man's shoulders and leading him away. "I think Spartan just likes to keep us mere mortals on our toes. Now, we'll start with the north wall, but it's the southern defences I really want..." His voice trailed off as they moved away.

"Did somebody say alcohol?" Pacian asked nobody in particular, rubbing his hands together as he headed directly for the tavern.

"Pace," Nellise moaned softly, clearly disappointed that he was looking to dive into the bottle once more. He either ignored her or could not hear her plaintive voice, leaving the two ladies and Aiden to head inside to see the Lord of the Keep.

"He's getting worse, isn't he," Aiden asked of Nellise, who nodded sombrely.

"When this is all over, he and I are going back to my property and we're not leaving until I resolve whatever crisis is eating at his soul," the cleric assured him.

"What if he can't wait that long?"

"I'd prefer not to think in those terms," Nellise whispered. Criosa touched her arm reassuringly as they approached the large door to the keep itself. The two guards stationed there recognised the princess instantly and opened the way for them.

The inside of the keep was dark and dreary, with precious little light coming through narrow windows set in the grey stone walls. Torches helped to provide a bit of illumination in the long hallway, but did nothing to dispel the oppressive mood. Having spent months wondering what the place was actually like, Fort Highmarch turned out to be something of a disappointment.

Their footsteps echoed along the empty hall as Criosa led them towards their destination. They ascended a narrow set of stairs and emerged on the upper level, where another guard waved them through without question. Finally, they arrived at a metal-rimmed oak door with a solemn-looking guardsman of advancing years on watch.

"Hello Sir Leonard," Criosa greeted the guard sadly. Aiden found it curious that this man standing watch like a common soldier was in fact a knight of the realm.

"Your Highness," the knight replied, creaking as he bowed low before her. "As always, your presence sheds light on our grim existence."

"I believe you are almost due for retirement, Sir Knight," Criosa mused. "Perhaps I could find a nice little fiefdom in warmer lands as payment for your long years of service."

"You couldn't drag me away from His Lordship's service with a dozen horses," Sir Leonard answered firmly. "My place is here, until the walls of this place crash down around me."

"Hopefully it won't come to that, my friend," Criosa suggested, then glanced at the door before them. "Is he in there?"

"My Lord grieves for the loss of his beloved, as anyone would. He hardly eats, and sleeps most of the day. He has ordered me to turn away all visitors, though I suspect you're about to overrule him."

"I most certainly am," Criosa nodded resolutely. "Would you be so kind?" The knight bowed his head slightly and leaned forward to open the door.

The room before them was as austere as the rest of the fort, but it had a woman's touch to it. Thick blue carpets covered the entire floor, and numerous vases filled with flowers of varying colours dotted the room. Several large paintings, depicting brightly coloured scenes of the countryside in spring were hanging on the walls.

Criosa quietly led them into the room, towards a man whose back was turned. He stood before a crackling fireplace, richly attired, and appeared to be gazing at one of the portraits hanging above the mantle. One of them was of an older man dressed in regal garb, which Aiden recognized from the history books as Alaric Roebec I, first king of Aielund.

Aiden suspected the man's attention was focused on the portrait of a beautiful, winsome lady with dark hair and innocent eyes, wearing a green dress. Several candles were arrayed before it, shedding a soft, warm light over the painting,

"Alastair?" Criosa said quietly, catching the man's attention at last. He was of average height, with pale green eyes, fair skin, and a regal bearing.

"Princess, I had not expected to see you again so soon," the baron mumbled, inclining his head ever so slightly.

"You have my deepest condolences over the passing of Saffron," Criosa said, stepping forward and taking his hand in hers. "She was a charming lady, beloved by everyone, and she will be missed."

"Thank you for your kind words," the baron replied without emotion. Aiden had seen some distraught people in his time, but nothing like this. "Why have you returned?"

"My father will be here soon and he wanted the place prepared for a fight," Criosa explained softly. "Allow me to introduce three friends — Sir Aiden Wainwright, Dame Nellise Sannemann and Sayana Arai. They're here to assist with the defence of the fort."

"I see. Carry on then," Alastair replied, drawing a curious glance from Criosa.

"They are here to assist you sir, for it is your duty to oversee the smooth running of this place and protect it in times of war."

"My head agrees with you Highness, but my heart can find no strength for such a task," the baron sighed, rubbing his unshaven chin listlessly.

"I'm deeply sorry for your loss, but more lives than ours are at stake,' Criosa said, putting it as delicately as she could. "If you cannot put aside your feelings and perform your duty, I will have to appoint somebody else to do so."

"Do as you wish, I care not," the baron muttered. "The light in my heart has perished along with my love, and nothing will change that."

"I understand," Criosa nodded sympathetically. "Get some rest, and I'll see to the daily tasks of the fort while you mourn."

"I appreciate that Criosa, you always know what to do," Alastair mumbled as she stroked his hand.

"If I may ask something before we depart," Nellise interrupted delicately. "Your wife... I find it strange that your priest was unable to heal her illness. If it's not too much for you to answer, I'd very much like to know how she died." Lord Alastair seemed to stare right through Nellise for a long moment before he finally replied in an empty voice.

"Saffron was always frail of health, the one flaw in a lady whose temperament, grace and charm were always there for people to see. She stole my heart, years ago, so I married her and brought her here to live with me. She was from Bracksford, you know... not the best climate to dwell in but far warmer than this cold, cold place."

"Living here did nothing to help her strength," Nellise remarked. "Still, it would not have been difficult for a half-way competent priest to mitigate the effects of a cold climate such as this."

"Saffron was doted over by Earnest, the fort's ranking priest, and she survived the winters well enough. We would usually try to get away for a few weeks where possible, but this year we never had the chance. She just... wasted away, and nothing Earnest did could change that. Perhaps God didn't want her to live?"

"That's a terrible thing to suggest," Nellise admonished. "I cannot explain what happened, but I assure you, God loves all of us and wants only the best for us."

"I don't really see it that way, so please, keep your proselytizing to yourself, dear lady," Alastair said politely but firmly. "Now if you'll excuse me, I would be alone for a while." Sayana put her hand on Nellise's arm to stop her from saying anything further, while Criosa watched the downcast man slump off toward his bedchamber.

"The poor man," Criosa sighed after the door had closed. "It could not have come at a worse time, either."

"His faith is faltering," Nellise added. "I suspect that if the truth of what happened to his wife is not resolved, he will be forever lost." Aiden sauntered over to the mantelpiece and looked up at the painting of Saffron. Up close, the individual brush strokes could be seen upon the canvas, and the skill of the artist was obvious even to Aiden's uncultured eyes.

Sayana appeared by his side and joined him in appreciating the painting. She barely had a chance to examine the work when a startled look crossed her features, and a familiar eldritch light appeared from underneath her clothes.

"What are you doing?" Aiden hissed.

"I'm not causing this," she protested, holding her hands up before her in disbelief as energy crackled and discharged from her skin.

"If you can't control it, you'd better get out of here," Aiden advised cautiously, slowing backing away from her. Sayana turned and made for the door with the sounds of snapping electricity crackling over the carpet with each step. Before she reached the door however, the display subsided and she paused and looked down at her body as if it were not her own.

"What's going on with you?" Criosa asked, as cautious as Aiden had been.

"I have no idea," Sayana whispered. "I just went over there to look at the painting up close, and all of that happened."

Come back over to the mantelpiece, Salinder voiced, speaking for the first time in days. Sayana reluctantly did as she was bid, and once more power began to erupt from her body wherever it could. She backed off, and it vanished as quickly as it came.

As I suspected, the dragon spirit mused. There is something on the mantelpiece causing this occurrence. Curious, Aiden looked at the wooden shelf above the fire and saw a few flowers, a number of candles, and a small amulet on a fine chain coiled up at the bottom of the painting.

A small golden gemstone was set in the heart of the amulet, sparkling brightly even in the dim light of the room. Adjusting his vision slightly, Aiden could see a blue aura of power suffusing the amulet, the intensity of which he had only seen when he had first set eyes upon his blade after Salinder's spirit had entered it.

He reached over and picked up the amulet, and immediately saw some familiar runes etched upon its surface. They were the same kind that could be found in the Lexicon and upon his gauntlet, and he stifled a curse as he realized the source of the problem.

"This device was made by our ancient friends," Aiden muttered, turning it over in his hands. "It carries with it an aura of great power, though what it does, I cannot say without taking some time to study it."

"It was placed at the foot of Saffron's portrait," Criosa remarked. "Perhaps it was hers? Some sort of arcane, protective talisman?"

The aura is pernicious in nature, Salinder hissed. Its mere presence is enough to cause harm to those without appropriate protection. Aiden immediately dropped it back down on the mantelpiece and stepped away.

"If Saffron was wearing that thing for long periods of time," he said, "I suspect it had something to do with her ill-health." Criosa walked over to the baron's chamber door and knocked twice.

"Forgive my intrusion, Alastair, but where did you come by the amulet sitting upon the mantle?"

"It was a gift from a man in Trinity, to the south," Lord Alastair replied from within his room. "I had settled a land dispute in his favour, and he bestowed that talisman upon me as recompense. I found it to be rather ostentatious, but Saffron was rather taken with it so I gave it to her for her last birthday."

Aiden glanced at Criosa meaningfully, but kept his silence. Whatever the true nature of this relic was, it had surely brought about the untimely demise of Lady Saffron.

"My associate tells me that it carries an ill-omen upon it, and wishes to study it further," Criosa explained to the baron.

"Ill-omened?" he asked with mild interest.

"It is possible this was responsible for your wife's death," Aiden called into the room. "Just to be safe, I would like to remove it from here and study it further."

"Do so," Lord Alastair replied with heavy emotion, "but let me know your findings. If it was the cause of my beloved's death, I shall have to pay a visit to the man who sent it to me."

"Indeed," Aiden said as he gingerly picked up the talisman once more. "Sal, can you protect me from the effects of this thing?" A globe of faint green energy appeared around the amulet, which Aiden held by its chain as if it were a snake.

"Do you have somewhere I could study it privately, My Lord?"

"There is a library on the eastern side of the keep, just down the hall," the baron replied.

"That's where I'll be," Aiden said to the ladies as he carefully walked away, dangling the dangerous relic before him.

"We shall remain here and speak further with His Lordship," Nellise advised as she began to take off her heavy armour, with Sayana's assistance.

Sir Leonard directed him to the library, taking care to keep his distance from the glowing artifact. A couple of minutes later, Aiden found the keep's small library. Shelves of musty-smelling books lined the walls, and a large desk sat opposite the doorway, complete with a lantern and writing implements. A thin layer of dust had settled over the room, indicating it had not been used in some time.

Aiden suddenly remembered the task Desmond had set for him before the journey to the fort had begun. Taking out a small pouch of powder, he began tracing the personal sigil of the wizard upon the floor at the far side of the room, so that he would have a marker to teleport to when the time came. After that was complete, he took off his encumbering breastplate and sat down at the desk, taking out the Lexicon so he could begin his examination.

"Is maintaining that shield going to tax your strength?" Aiden asked Salinder as he stared at the amulet's markings.

That hardly seems relevant now, the sword replied grimly.

"You sound stronger anyway."

My remaining time is counted in hours, Aiden. I am close enough to sense the presence of the Ironlord however, and it will be here within that span of time. If I am careful, my remaining energies will last long enough to join the fight, for what it's worth.

Aiden had nothing to say about the prospect of facing the indestructible monster without a means to finish it off once and for all, so he set his mind to the task before him. The runes upon the amulet's surface were tiny, but clearly visible upon the slightly worn metal it was made from.

Flipping through the ephemeral pages of the Lexicon, he eventually managed to locate the same symbols, though the real trick with this language was understanding the context and arrangement they were used in.

Time passed without notice as Aiden delved into the mystery of the amulet, slowly connecting the runes together in order to decipher their meaning. It was when he stumbled across a related diagram that he suddenly put it all together.

"It's a power source," he mumbled absently, "one that is highly toxic to living creatures. There's no doubt anymore this thing slowly destroyed the Baroness' health, for according to this diagram, it was supposed to be encased in something larger."

To what are you referring? Where am I? Salinder asked in a weak voice, distracting Aiden momentarily with its ongoing deterioration.

"Never mind, just rest," Aiden advised tiredly. The glowing green sphere vanished from around the device, so he decided to put it at the far end of the desk while he continued his study.

His best guess was that this was a smaller, more portable form of the arcane generators he had come across in his travels, though what it was supposed to power was still a mystery. All he had to go on was a diagram of a staff, atop which was depicted the image of the amulet, surrounded by a circular brace that apparently kept the amulet from harming anyone.

Curious about the staff, Aiden followed the references to it on the side of the page and found another diagram, depicting various arcane devices linked to it somehow. His eyes widened as he saw a sketch of the Ironlord, a hulking construct of alien design. The staff was somehow connected to it, though the nature of this connection was not clear.

Aiden spent the next few hours scouring the Lexicon for more information about this, but in the end, found little more concerning the connection between the two. His eyes were becoming blurry and his stomach had been rumbling for some time, so he dismissed the glowing pages of the Lexicon and leaned back in his chair, uncertain of what he had found yet knowing, deep down, it was significant.

A faint rush of air swept over him, and Aiden turned around to see a figure dressed from head to toe in a black robe, the hood pulled low over its face and a staff held in gloved hands. It was standing upon the sigil Aiden had traced out on the floor, and for a moment, he thought it might have been Desmond. As the figure turned around to face him, however, he knew he was looking at a complete stranger.

Although he couldn't see the person's features, Aiden knew he was being scrutinized closely, and suddenly the figure raised his staff and without warning, a glowing green sphere encapsulated Aiden and the desk he sat at.

"You will tell me your name, why you are here, and how you came by the cursed device you bear, or I shall end your life," the figure demanded in a rasping voice.
Chapter Fourteen

Aiden stared at his captor through the green-tinged field of energy. The last time he had seen a black-robed figure, it had been a death cultist determined to eliminate a dozen senators. If this stranger was a cultist, Aiden was certain he'd be dead by now.

"I am Sir Aiden Wainwright, of the Order of the Rose Eagle," he said, using his full title to impress upon the man exactly who he had encased within the arcane shield.

"The recently knighted man whom Criosa vouched for," the robed man remarked, seeming to relax a little. "I assume the relic on the table is yours?"

"It belonged to the baron's deceased wife, actually," Aiden replied, glancing at the amulet. "Evidently you can sense its nature, something which I was investigating this very evening. Who are you, anyway?"

"Terinus, the University's representative to His Majesty, King Seamus Roebec," the wizard explained. A light appeared on the end of his staff, fully illuminating the room, though it yielded little information about the man himself. He was of thin, below average height and a number of pouches were strapped to belts around his body. A layer of rust-coloured dirt stained the robe, and his black hood covered most of his face.

"I've heard your name mentioned at the tower," Aiden said, relieved that he was an ally, although the shimmering green barrier remained in place. "This sigil was meant for Desm- Dean Foster, not you."

"I am familiar with the sigils of all the Deans at the University, and I am not above using them for my own purposes."

"... The deans, or their sigils?" Aiden asked hesitantly. When no reply was forthcoming, Aiden fidgeted a little and continued to speak. "I wasn't expecting to meet you yet, as your place is by the king's side is it not?"

"I have been sent ahead to oversee the preparations of the fort," Terinus explained. "But to the matter at hand. Where did Lord Alastair come by such a dangerous relic?"

"He said a man in a place called Trinity sent it to him as payment for services rendered," Aiden replied, stifling his growing anger at being held inside the sphere. "I understand your concern, but do you think you could let me out of here?"

"I am sensing something odd about you as well," the wizard stated, leaning upon his staff. "You bear with you a weapon of remarkable power, which seems to have a mind of its own. I am attempting to determine if it is exercising control over you in some insidious way."

"It's quite safe," Aiden said in a level tone. "I would point out that it would allow me to destroy this barrier and be at your throat in a heartbeat, should I desire it." With a swift gesture, the barrier around Aiden suddenly shrunk, wrapping around him tightly until he could not move.

"Do not threaten me, child," Terinus rasped as Aiden struggled to breath.

"I was just pointing out that if I wanted to kill you, I could have done it already!" Aiden gasped. Reluctantly, the wizard gestured again with one hand and the barrier vanished, allowing Aiden to fall onto the desk as he took in deep breaths.

"I sense the power of your weapon flickering like a candle in the wind," the wizard remarked. "Whatever its true nature is, I would not rely upon it in battle if I were you." The green sphere reappeared tightly around the amulet, and with a wave of his staff, Terinus pulled the relic through the air to hover before him.

"Such toxic power," he remarked quietly, almost forgetting Aiden's presence for the moment. "I do not think some commoner sent this to the baron. Even without its eldritch aura, the gem in the centre is worth a small fortune. Something else was at play here." The sounds of approaching footsteps could be heard echoing down the corridor outside, and within moments, Criosa's head appeared around the corner of the entrance.

"What on earth is going on in here?" she asked curiously, followed by an expression of dreadful recognition crossing her features.

"Princess Criosa," Terinus stated flatly as he turned to face her. "You were to remain at Fairloch, were you not? I wish I could describe to you the magnitude of your poor decision, though I fear you will soon learn for yourself."

"I refused to sit idly by while my home is under threat," she replied hotly. "If you are going to try and send me away, you might find that more difficult than you suspect."

"I will do no such thing, for while I would not wish to see you harmed, my time here is limited and you have already chosen your fate," Terinus explained. "Tell me, Sir Aiden; have managed to understand the nature of this relic?"

"I have been researching all evening," Aiden said warily, having a new appreciation of just how dangerous this man was. "I believe it is part of a larger device that may be useful against the Ironlord."

"Curious, then, that it was sent to the baron," the wizard mused. "Perhaps someone wanted it in safe hands? More likely, someone wanted to inflict a slow death upon the baron to weaken the defence of this fort."

"I hadn't considered that," Aiden mumbled absently, realizing that the amulet itself would be an insidious weapon to use against an enemy.

"You would do well to consider all possibilities," Terinus rasped, then appeared to ponder something briefly. "I have a contact in Trinity who is an expert at dealing with the sort of relics excavated from deep in the Hocarum Desert. Not only would she be able to shed more light on this device, she may well know the individual who sent it. If you are set upon the task of investigating the mystery of this relic, you would do well to travel to Trinity and speak with the sage known as Sahar."

"We have to oversee the restoration of the fort's defences," Aiden pointed out.

"So, in addition to your apparent knowledge of the arcane, are you also an engineer?"

"Well, no, but—"

"Then you will not be missed," Terinus stated. "I urge haste in the resolution of this matter, for our enemy will be here sooner than I would prefer."

"Is my father well?" Criosa asked in a small voice, clearly intimidated by the presence of the brutally honest wizard.

"The king lives, and continues the fight in an effort to slow the Ironlord, thus buying the time required to prepare the defence of this place," Terinus explained curtly. "I have wasted enough time on these matters — I must see to the condition of the fort immediately."

"Captain Marshald is the man to speak to," Criosa advised. "You will find him—"

"At the local barracks, yes," Terinus interrupted, setting the relic down on the table and dismissing the protective green sphere. "I suggest you find a way of transporting that device safely, when you go to Trinity, Sir Aiden. Though it would not make you ill within the next few days, it would certainly shorten your lifespan in the long term." Without further word, Terinus slowly walked out of the library, the staff he leaned on clicking on the stone floor with every step.

"That man scares me," Criosa breathed quietly after he was well out of earshot. "He always has."

"He's completely unlike any of the other wizards at the University," Aiden observed. "I can only assume his power is such that the king puts up with that caustic attitude."

"Enough about him," Criosa said, eager to change the subject. "Tell me what you've discovered so far."

Aiden informed her of the connection between the amulet, the staff that it came from, and the Ironlord.

You seem familiar to me, the sword said in a weak voice. Do I know you?

"What was that?" Criosa breathed in disbelief.

"Salinder in't doing too well," Aiden explained quietly, aware that the sword was overhearing everything they said. "Whatever is sustaining his life within the sword is dissipating faster than we thought."

"Is he still able to... no, he isn't strong enough to defeat the Ironlord anymore, is he? I can see it in your eyes."

"He comes and goes," Aiden answered soberly. "It's heartbreaking to hear him like this, to be honest. This is why we have to go and find out more about this amulet and staff, in case we need them after all."

"As if we didn't have enough bad news," she sighed. "Alright, we'll head out at first light to follow this up. We don't really need to be here anyway, as I've given Sir Leonard the authority to oversee the repairs to the fort. Hopefully this contact of Terinus's will have some more information. Why don't you head to the inn and rest up for the night? I'm going to check in on Lord Alastair and see if I can lift his spirits." Aiden nodded and reached out to give her a quick embrace and a peck on the cheek, before they went their separate ways.

* * *

"I don't know what they've been doing around here for the past few decades, but this place is lucky to be standing at all," Robert Black was telling Aiden as the two men sat at a table enjoying the warmth of the Bulwark, Fort Highmarch's inn. The mercenary was enveloped in a cloud of cigar smoke, and occasionally sipped from a tall glass of beer. He had dispensed with his armour and leaned forward in his chair, the back of which was facing towards the table.

"This fort is the premier defensive structure on the southern border of Aielund, and you're telling me they've been neglecting it for the better part of a century?" Aiden whispered incredulously, hoping their conversation wasn't being overheard. The inn's common room was less than half full, but he was hearing more and more information lately that just shouldn't be discussed in public.

"I'm just telling you what I saw," Robert said with a shrug, puffing on his cigar. "Marshald's a good man, but he's no engineer and he's never been in a siege. The walls would last two days at best, under those conditions. Of course, that's assuming a regular army equipped with modern weaponry. An army of metal monsters powered by magic might smash through in minutes.

"There's one piece of good news," Robert added. "The southern gate is in pretty good condition, at least compared to the rest of the walls. With minimal attention it'll be as good as new."

"Okay, so we just need to make sure the giant contraptions coming this way only attack that section," Aiden replied sarcastically. Robert grunted with bleak humour, then reconsidered his position.

"Look, it may be in bad shape, but I reckon our industrious friends from Stonegaard will have a few tricks up their sleeves. With the southern buttresses reinforced, the walls should buy us enough time for us to do what we have to. In this case, you'll be dying heroically and I'll be making a run for it."

"Actually, I think I might have found something that could prove useful," Aiden confided. "We're leaving tomorrow morning to investigate."

"Care to enlighten me?"

"I'm not sure if it's a weapon or something else, but I've come across a relic that is somehow connected to the Ironlord," Aiden said. "We'll know more when we get to Trinity."

"Well, it beats sitting around in this icebox for the next few days waiting to die," Robert grunted.

"We'll be leaving early, so go easy on the beer, okay?" Aiden advised, having steered clear of the amber liquid himself all evening.

"There's someone else you should probably mention that to," Robert said with a casual glance over at the bar. Aiden knew what he was going to see as soon as he turned to look, and his fears were confirmed when he saw Pacian sitting there with an empty pitcher and half a glass of ale before him. More than that however, was the shining dagger he was toying with in one hand, slowly using it to drill a hole in the bench top as he stared at it in a drunken stupor.

Aiden wasn't the only one to have noticed this. Dante Colt was at a table across the room, seated next to the elf Mona, a tall, exotic woman with tanned skin and long, golden hair tied back at the nape of her neck. Across from her was an older, bearded man with olive skin and stocky build, wearing the heavy leathers of a royal ranger. There was a piece of insignia on his lapel that indicated the rank of commander, and his dark eyes watched Pacian closely. Aiden walked over to meet them, and to head off any trouble that Pacian might be walking into.

"Sir Aiden Wainwright, it's a pleasure to meet you," the burly old ranger greeted him in a gruff but friendly voice.

"You must be Commander Armin Wise," Aiden replied respectfully, shaking hands with the ranger. "I've heard a lot about you."

"I'm sure you have," Armin chuckled, glancing at his two companions, revealing that while they were sitting together, there was still some tension in thie midst. "Colt told me of your accomplishments, both recent and back in winter. Impressive work from all of you, I must say, though your friend seems to have some unresolved issues."

"You wouldn't know it from all the things that are going right in his life lately," Aiden muttered, wishing Pacian could get his act together. "I'm glad to see you made it here. How many rangers did you bring along?"

"Twelve, not including Mona, who decided to neglect her duties to join us."

"It's nice to see you again," Aiden said as she gazed at him with her large, angular green eyes that seemed to stare right into his soul.

"I hope you are keeping well," she replied with a slight inclination of her head.

"I see you've still got whats-his-name with you," Colt remarked, nodding towards Robert.

"He's not as bad as you might think," Aiden answered.

"Yeah, lots of mass-murderers are actually really nice people underneath," Colt grunted sarcastically, drawing an alarmed look from his two companions.

"Who is that man?" Commander Armin asked suspiciously.

"Just a former soldier who's advising Her Highness on military matters," Aiden replied hastily, with a meaningful look at Colt.

"He's a mercenary, not a soldier," Colt growled. "There's a difference, mate."

"Mercenaries," Armin snorted derisively. "The king frowns upon employing such people, unless absolutely necessary."

"It is absolutely necessary," Aiden replied emphatically.

"I'll take your word for it. I've spoken with Sir Leonard about our role here," Armin said, looking at Aiden shrewdly, "and for the next few days we will be patrolling far from the fort, keeping an eye out for enemy movements in this region. If something is coming our way, the fort will have plenty of advance warning. But we still don't have definitive information about this threat we're facing. I don't suppose you can shed some light on the situation?"

"If you haven't been told already, I don't really have the authority to explain more," Aiden sighed.

"What's the use of a knighthood if you're kept in the dark just like the rest of us?" Colt snorted.

"Some of us may just be naturally ignorant," Mona remarked, drawing a dour look from the big ranger.

"I'm sure you'll be told when the time comes," Aiden assured Colt, noticing the tension return among the three. "Thanks for bringing your group here. I'll leave you be and go have a word with Pace."

"I'll give you a hand," Colt grunted abruptly, rising from his chair without looking back at the others.

"What was all that about?" Aiden asked quietly as they headed towards the bar.

"You remember that business between me, Armin and Mona, right?" Colt responded under his breath, drawing a nod from Aiden. "I spent the past month or so cleaning up my act. Quit drinking, cut down on the swearing and well, just showed her that I can be a better man."

"You're a saint," Aiden drawled.

"Thanks for humouring me," Colt answered. "Anyway, I finally got sick of her silence so I put her on the spot, told her to choose one of us and put the matter to rest. She hasn't answered yet."

"That explains the tension at that table," Aiden remarked. "What if she chooses neither of you?"

"Huh. I hadn't thought of that," Colt muttered as they leaned on the bar next to Pacian. He was completely focused on his vythiric dagger, twirling it slowly and doing untold damage to the counter top.

"Pace, you've been pretty busy I see," Aiden observed, tilting the empty pitcher over to peer at the remaining foam inside. "Maybe you should go easy on the beer while we're at war?"

"Bugger that, I can hold me drink," Pacian slurred before turning to regard Aiden with a drunken leer. "Aiden! I thought I was hearing voices. Is great to see you, I'm pretty bloody hammered just now, wot."

"Was I ever this bad?" Colt whispered self-consciously.

"You're a bit of a mess, Pace," Aiden lamented, ignoring Colt. "What would Nellise say if she saw you like this?" The smirk disappeared from Pacian's face and he looked sad all of a sudden.

"She's always telling me to stop drinking, but she doesn't know what's going on in here," he confided in a harsh whisper, tapping his head with one finger. "The beer shuts up the voices for a while, helps me keep it together."

"And here I was thinking it was woman troubles," Colt grunted. "Are you telling me that Nellise and he finally got together?" Aiden nodded absently. "Mate, you don't know how great you've got it," the big ranger said to Pacian, roughly clapping one hand on his shoulder. "Women are tolerant to a point, but if you keep acting like this, you're gonna lose her. Take it from me." Pacian seemed to wobble unsteadily on his bar stool, staring at the dagger morosely.

"She can't ever find out," he whispered to the weapon. "I'll lose her for sure if she learns the truth."

"Lying to her will lose her almost as quickly," Colt confided from his years of experience. "If you can't be honest with each other, it's doomed from the start, mate. Now, let's get you to bed." Pacian ignored this comment and kept on talking.

"How do you do it, Aiden? How do you sleep at night with the faces of those you've killed staring at you from the darkness?" Aiden couldn't answer right away, as he sometimes wondered how he could do it as well.

"Somehow, I get by," he finally said, "but you were never the squeamish type, Pace. You were the one who slept like a baby after putting some shady bastard six feet under."

"Things have changed," Pacian whispered. "They're all waiting for me, out there in the shadows... Nel was right, you know. That old argument of ours? She won, and I'm paying the price." He suddenly leaped to his feet and grasped Aiden by the lapels on his longcoat, a bleary intensity in his green eyes.

"How was I supposed to know?" he spat, enveloping Aiden in a fog of beer-breath. "The bitch lied to me, and it all made sense at the time..."

"What the hell are you talking about," Aiden coughed, trying to pry his friend loose.

"I was tricked! There was so much going on there, secrets within secrets, and I made a mistake, Aiden. You've gotta believe me! So much blood... I'm swimming in it... Tosh, I'm so sorry..."

"Easy, Pace, I believe you!" Aiden shouted as his friend finally let go and staggered around, trying to find his balance. He pulled the dagger out of the wooden counter and swung it around wildly, almost cutting Aiden in the process. As soon as Colt saw this, his eyes bulged in shock and he responded with his fist. Pacian probably didn't feel a thing as he crashed to the floor, which was probably for the best.

"That was inevitable, I suppose," Aiden sighed as he looked down upon his comatose friend.

"Once someone draws a weapon, yeah, it's nap time," Colt growled unapologetically as he flexed his fingers. "Give me a hand to drag him up to his room, would ya?" As they marched him off towards the stairs, Aiden caught sight of Robert chuckling at the scene through a cloud of cigar smoke.

After the two men deposited Pacian in his bed and closed the door, Colt took hold of Aiden's arm and brought him to a halt in the hallway.

"You and I went through hell together, mate," he whispered harshly. "We don't owe each other anything when you get right down to it, but if you know something about what we're facing, I wanna hear about it, for old time's sake."

"Alright, but you have to keep this to yourself," he said in a low voice. He took the time to explain the nature of the events that had taken place in Fairloch, and how he'd learned of the Ironlord's existence, including the king's effort to stop the thing before it entered the world.

"So, we're going to be fighting a bunch of these walking metal men?" Colt summarized.

"Now you know what to look out for when you're on patrol. If you do see them coming, don't engage them — they're as tough as they look, and we'll need to combine our efforts to take them down."

"You've got a plan though, right?" Colt insisted.

"I have the beginnings of something that might lead to a plan, sure," Aiden hedged. "I'll know more in a few days."

"I hope you find what you're looking for, for all our sakes," Colt growled as he slowly walked back down to the common room. It was a sentiment Aiden felt all too keenly as he went off to his own room to get some rest.

Whether it was the lack of warm company between the sheets that night or the impending journey outside of the Kingdom's borders, Aiden tossed and turned, unable to drift off to sleep. The wind outside had picked up and was howling through the streets, adding to his discomfort. Pacian's words were echoing in his mind and for the first time in many weeks, he considered all the people he'd killed in the name of the Crown.

The words of his father came back to him, some of the last word's he'd spoken to his wayward son, months ago. Aiden had killed people, and regardless of whether or not they deserved it, he could never go back to the innocent young man he'd once been.

While he was pondering the implications of his path in life, a shadow crossed his window, obscuring the feeble moonlight enough to cause Aiden to jump out of his bed. A serpentine head was present just outside the frost-rimmed glass, peering inside with one large eye.

"Spartan," Aiden breathed, collapsing back onto his bed in relief.

I wish to speak with you, came the dragon's disembodied voice within Aiden's mind.

"I'm trying to sleep, can't this wait until morning?" he replied, hoping he could be heard through the window.

Pacian is a liability, Spartan continued without heeding Aiden's request. Our quest is of the utmost importance and his instability may bring us trouble.

"What would you have me do about it?" Aiden asked. "He's got problems, yes, but he'll deal with them as he always has. We've all got problems, you know."

Speak for yourself, the dragon admonished. When the time comes to face our intractable foe, can you really trust Pacian to stand with us?

"What's the worst he could do, run away and hide?" Aiden retorted.

He might take matters into his own hands, like he did with the prisoners from the brief skirmish at Bracksford.

"What are you saying?" Aiden asked, sitting up in bed and looking at the head hovering just outside his window. "Are you talking about the men who escaped on the way to Coldstream?"

You know I am.

"You haven't told anyone else, right?"

Why would that concern you? Spartan purred. Those men were evil, were they not? The worst aspects of humanity on display for all to see, and Pacian saw to their demise with cunning and stealth such as I have rarely seen. A perfect assassination carried out right under the noses of you and your companions. Surely your friends would rejoice in his methods, particularly Dame Nellise?

"How did you figure it out?" Aiden inquired.

I witnessed his actions. Little escapes my notice, Spartan explained.

"Then you'd know Nellise would never allow him to get away with it, if she found out."

He holds so many secrets within him, he may yet be driven mad by the chorus of voices calling to him from beyond the grave, Spartan taunted.

"Pacian is my friend Spartan, I know him like nobody else does," Aiden answered firmly. "Whatever he's been through, he's had it far worse in the past. He'll pull through it, I know he will."

You cannot even recall most of your childhood, Aiden. You may not know him as well as you suspect.

"He stays with us, until I decide otherwise," Aiden declared with finality. "How did you know about my memory loss, anyway?"

I have spoken to Salinder about a great many things, the dragon explained. It has helped me to find my place within your group for the duration of this quest.

"I see. Just before I go back to not sleeping, I have one question for you," Aiden said. "You've been awfully nice to everyone lately, including Sayana. I thought dragons and sorcerers hated each other."

There are other factors at play here, Spartan answered cryptically. She does not frighten me as she does lesser creatures.

"Salinder seemed very upset whenever she showed up," Aiden pointed out. "What's different about you?" When no answer was forthcoming, Aiden suddenly had a flash of insight and pressed the dragon on this point. "You're being kind to her so you can stay close," he said in little more than a whisper.

She is a weapon of the ancients, Spartan declared. We do not know why she was imbued with these powers by her mother, but regardless, there is always a chance she will fulfil her destiny and destroy everyone and everything around her. At the first sign of this, I am tasked with eliminating that threat.

"You're going to kill her..." Aiden breathed.

Only if it is required, Spartan clarified. It is my fond hope that she maintains control so I do not have to obliterate her, a service I will gladly extend to Pacian, should he too stray from the path on which we are set.

"Get out of here," Aiden almost yelled, dismayed at the frank admission but unable to deny the reasons for it. The dragon's head receded from the window, allowing the cold moonlight to stream inside once more. Aiden buried himself underneath his blankets, angry with Spartan regardless of the logic of his argument. A darkness lingered within two of Aiden's closest friends and he had no way of knowing what was going to happen to them.

Chapter Fifteen

The ground was encrusted with a fresh layer of snow the next morning, and the freezing cold wind sweeping through the fort made Aiden long to return to the warmth of his bed. The sun, well above the horizon, shed light but little heat upon the courtyard as they saddled their mounts, and strapped on bags filled with supplies.

The horses provided to them had come from Lord Alastair's own stable, and they were fit and strong, trained to fight, and high-spirited to say the least. Robert seemed very satisfied with the new acquisitions as he went about ensuring his new horse understood who was in charge.

Sayana climbed on the back of his saddle with hardly a thought. When their journey had begun, she had chosen to do so to keep an eye on a potential traitor, but over time, Robert had shown he was a man of his word and now the sorceress rode with him seemingly out of habit. Despite rebuffing the mercenary's tentative advances back in the forest, she seemed more comfortable around him.

Sitting astride his sleek warhorse, Aiden put a gloved hand on one pouch to ensure he still had his precious cargo. The baron had provided the small box his cursed amulet arrived in, fashioned from lead and quite heavy for its size. Once safely inside, Aiden was surprised to find no sign of the amulet's pernicious aura visible to his arcane sight. Whoever had sent the relic to the baron had clearly known of its terrible power, and had taken steps to ensure that only the person receiving the 'gift' would unlock its true purpose.

Of Terinus, there was no sign. Sir Leonard had reported the wizard had entered the library just before dawn and not yet emerged, so it was safe to assume he had teleported back to the king's side, wherever he may be. Aiden was glad of this, for he found his brief encounter with the man to be very unsettling, a fact that was completely lost on Sayana when she learned of his visit.

"Is he gone already?" she protested, glancing around in the faint hope of finding the black-robed wizard walking past somewhere.

"He did say his time here was limited," Aiden informed her as they prepared to set out.

"You should have come and told me of his arrival," she berated him. "I've wanted to meet him ever since I learned of his existence."

"I'm sorry, that was the last thing on my mind," Aiden apologized. "Besides... I don't think you really missed all that much. He's a rather unique individual."

"That's putting it mildly," Criosa muttered. "I'm sure we'll meet him again in the near future Sy." Sayana had to be content with that answer for the moment, though she clearly chafed at the delay in potentially learning more about herself.

Pacian was the last to mount up, for he was sporting a black eye in addition to his wicked hangover. He'd spent the last hour retching in his room, and finally seemed ready to join them. Aiden briefly considered asking him to stay behind, but he didn't want to give Spartan the satisfaction of being right. Besides, he knew his friend would pull through this sooner or later, and leaving him to sit around and drink himself to death in the cold, barren fort wasn't an option. Unsurprisingly, Nellise was unimpressed with his slovenly appearance and barely spoke to him at all.

Finally ready to depart, Criosa led them to the south gate at a steady walk. Chains clattered and gears turned as they approached, raising the two portcullises and lowering the outer drawbridge. Aiden noticed with a passing interest the wall around the gate was in much better condition than the rest, and he could even see the seam where the old and new had been stitched together.

This was the gate that had been built to replace the one Salinder had taken with him to the Aether, when he enacted his mighty incantation at the last confrontation with the Ironlord long ago.

The wind whipped the powdered snow into clouds as they left the fort behind them. Looking out over the frozen landscape outside the gate, Aiden was struck with an intense feeling of déjà vu. Within the dreams he shared with Salinder via the shard of the broken communication sphere still hanging around his neck, countless times he had stared across this field and witnessed the Battle of Fort Highmarch unfold.

This is the place where thousands of men had fallen in a desperate attempt to stop the metal army, and riding across the plain Aiden worried if history was soon to repeat itself.

I was surprised to see you, a boy of thirteen standing on the hillside observing the battle, Salinder said, correctly guessing what thoughts played upon Aiden's mind. I could not recall seeing you during the fight, but I assumed I had been too preoccupied to notice. It wasn't until Sayana's appearance, years later, that I realized something deeper was occurring.

"I was terrified of you," Aiden muttered, recalling his recurring dream. "You might have done something to reassure me you weren't a danger. I was only a boy, facing a monster I couldn't fight or escape."

Some of my enemies are able to walk in dreams, and I could not be certain you weren't one of them in disguise, Salinder explained. For what it's worth, I do apologise.

"Better late than never, I suppose," Aiden answered, trying to force the images out of his mind and focus on the trail ahead. The tallest mountain in Aielund and according to an old map of Feydwiir he had once examined, the second highest in all the land, Threepeak, came into view.

It seemed to reach up into the sky like a three-fingered hand clawing at the heavens as they rode in its shadow. Aiden briefly caught a glint of silver in the air, and glimpsed Spartan gliding easily overhead, shadowing their path through the mountains.

The highway through the mountains was the easiest path and from here, they began their descent. The view was quite distracting, for all the lands to the south could be seen in the distance with breathtaking clarity, topped with white clouds seemingly painted on top of the expansive scenery. A distinct reddish haze marked the lands of the Hocarum Desert they were soon to enter.

As the land levelled out, the view vanished behind a wall of rock. Below, a vast gorge cut through the side of the mountain running across their path, easily a hundred feet across and disappearing into the distance on either side. Their horses slowed as they approached the only way across, a natural bridge of grey stone formed over countless years of wind and rain.

The distant rush of a turbulent river cutting its way through the winding rock could be heard from two hundred feet below them. The sides were almost sheer but for sharp rocks jutting out of the walls at irregular intervals. Aiden gripped the reins tightly and fixed his gaze on the opposite side of the chasm, regretting the curiosity urging him to look down into the hungry chasm waiting to devour any who fell into it.

They crossed the bridge without incident, and paused for the midday meal amongst the sparse greenery of the mountainside. Pacian was the only one showing signs of strain from the journey, although he had looked the worse for wear before they had even started out. Aiden noticed him surreptitiously take something from Nellise's pack, though the object of his theft wasn't clear. She didn't notice as he slipped it back just before they set out again, and it left Aiden curious as to what Pacian had taken.

Criosa was eager to reach Trinity by nightfall, but Robert, who was the only one of their group to have travelled this path, told them it was unlikely.

"The maps make it look closer than it is," he explained. "What they don't show in great detail is the escarpment we'll need to descend before we reach the desert. It'll take a couple of hours at best, so be prepared to spend an evening enjoying the bracing cold of a spring night in the desert."

Merchants leading mules and wagons laden with supplies passed them on their way north and there was a distinct change in the scenery during the ongoing descent, revealing the dry and dusty ground underneath.

A short time later, their journey came to a halt when the land before them ended at the escarpment Robert had warned of. A warm wind kicked up dust from the parched ground beneath their horse's hooves, and there wasn't a cloud in the sky as Aiden looked across the expanse of red dirt dominating the view. As far as the eye could see there was nothing but flat ground, without any sign of life to be seen amongst the dusty red expanse of the Hocarum Desert.

The distinct trail they had followed for most of the day continued along the side of the cliff, slowly weaving back and forth until finally meeting the ground far below. The trail wasn't too steep, though it did seem quite narrow in places. Other travellers ascended the trail, appearing like ants from this distance. It was obvious it would take most of the remaining light to reach the bottom.

They began their final descent without further delay, mindful of the considerable drop to one side. Aiden's ears popped twice as they went, but he hardly noticed as he focused all his attention on navigating the treacherous path. He was lathered in sweat by the time they reached the plain below and bone-tired from the immense concentration he'd used in ensuring he didn't fall to his death.

The others were similarly worn out, and set about making camp for the night in near silence. Spartan, having avoided the rigors of the descent, alighted on the ground before them and folded his wings.

Sayana lit a fire using wood Robert had brought along with him in anticipation of their need. With their bedrolls set up near the campfire, they settled in for the night under the open sky. Aiden stared up at the stars as he ate sausages Nellise quickly fried in a pan, marvelling at the thousand points of light staring back at him from the heavens.

He'd never seen them with such clarity, and found his mind wandering through the possibilities of the future. One such possibility crept across the camp and sat beside him on the cool red sand.

"Can't sleep?" Aiden whispered to Criosa.

"They're still waiting for me behind my eyelids," she replied despondently. "Those damnable creatures with their fiery claws."

"I'm sure the memories will fade with time," Aiden assured her, leaning on one elbow to look directly at her. "Is there something else on your mind?" Criosa toyed with a small rock on the ground before answering.

"My mother died when I was very young, something you've probably heard of," she answered.

"Yes, I read about it," Aiden answered softly. "You must have been devastated."

"I was. It was such an unpredictable way to go, too. With all the clerical help we have thanks to the Church of Aielund, it was tragic that she simply fell off her horse while riding and broke her neck. Her death was instant, which is something to be thankful for, but if she had lingered even for a short time, the priest might have made it there in time to heal her injury. But what's done is done," Criosa mumbled, having long ago made peace with the loss. "What I've learned from her passing is that death can strike at any time, without warning."

"Morbid, but relevant," Aiden murmured. He was reminded of something Robert had said to him back in Auchlevie, and decided this was as good a time as any to press the issue. "I have to ask you something — as the only heir, aren't you destined to be married off to some prince?"

"I was supposed to be, yes," Criosa replied archly. "To Prince Osric Davignon of Tulsone, son of King Évariste Davignon the third. We were to be wed in two years, although that information had been kept secret. I think you can figure out what happened to that arrangement."

"The war started. I had no idea the two royal families were so close before hostilities began."

"All the royal families of Feydwiir keep in touch from time to time, and many of us are distant relatives," Criosa confided. "Mother was a cousin to Évariste, as it happens. I've known Osric for many years, and although he is intelligent, handsome and wealthy, I found that beneath all that, he has a darker side."

"Such as?" Aiden prompted.

"He has certain unseemly appetites I was not looking forward to experiencing first-hand," she explained tentatively. "Suffice to say, I shed no tears at the dissolution of our marriage arrangement."

"I see," Aiden said, morbidly curious about these 'appetites' but unwilling to inquire further. "So, how do I fit into all this?"

"What exactly are you referring to?"

"I'm wondering if you really have feelings for me, or if you're just looking for a diversion until your father arranges another marriage," Aiden explained with a catch in his voice he could not cover, parroting Robert's earlier thoughts on the subject. "Or are you looking to escape your commitments altogether, using me as an excuse to avoid a potentially disastrous arrangement?"

By the light of the campfire, Aiden could see she was clearly distraught at this question, and a long, awkward silence passed before she finally answered.

"I'm tired, and should try and get some rest," she mumbled, standing up quickly and walking back to her bedroll on the other side of the camp. Aiden almost rose to go after her, but then gave up and fell back on the ground once more, silently kicking himself for his thoughtlessness.

* * *

Aiden had a restless night under the stars, experiencing a cold he'd rarely felt, even in the mountains. Shortly after dawn the heat began to rise, as Aiden and his companions saddled up and continued on their way. Criosa made no mention of Aiden's misstep the previous night, and he wondered just how much she was willing to put up with from him before the illusion of a romantic adventure was shattered completely.

The sun beat relentlessly down upon the vast expanse of red sand as they trudged onwards, periodically shedding layers of their warm clothing as they went. The climate was bone-dry and far warmer than the cold of Aielund, and it was still early spring. Aiden shuddered at the thought of what this barren realm would be like at the height of summer. Both Nellise and Robert seemed to be bearing up well, for they were both clad in iron and were no doubt suffering as a result.

"How can this place be so hot, when Aielund experiences none of this?" Pacian moaned, lathered in far more sweat than anyone else.

"The mountains channel most of the heat to the east, as I recall," Aiden mused, recalling books he'd read on the subject years ago. "Why this desert exists at all is beyond me, however."

It wasn't always like this, Salinder reminisced, his voice evidently heard by everyone nearby. Long ago it was a verdant place, with forests and grasslands stretching for miles. Food was abundant, and hunting easy as dragonkind filled the skies above, taking our fill from the denizens of the land without challenge. The calamity which rendered Hocarum a desolate wasteland came without warning...although I cannot recall the nature of the disaster.

"These 'denizens' you hunted back in the day," Robert pondered suspiciously, "there wouldn't have been any humans amongst them I suppose?" Salinder did not answer, but Aiden could hear the murmurings of the dragon spirit caught up in memories of his past, rapidly vanishing from what remained of his mind.

"I thought so," Robert muttered, taking the silence for guilt.

"So much desolation," Sayana remarked in a haunted voice. "What could possibly cause all of this to happen so suddenly?" Nobody had an answer for her, leaving Aiden to bleakly ponder on the magnitude of what had befallen Hocarum.

There was a path of sorts through the desert, a road of parched and cracked earth through the sea of red sand. Rock formations of curious shapes dotted the landscape, shaped by centuries of natural forces. At least, that's what Aiden thought until they passed by rocks with their south-facing sides blackened as if from an intense heat. It was a disquieting sight, much like the rest of this unnatural landscape.

Shortly thereafter, the road descended into a dry riverbed, meandering through the wasteland like the skeleton of a long dead serpent. Heat radiated off the parched landscape and Aiden ached for respite, but their only choice was to continue plodding through the lifeless land and hope they reached their destination soon.

An hour or so later, the road emerged from the riverbed and to Aiden's astonishment, the familiar sight of towering pine trees could be seen not far ahead. Before long the mystery became apparent, for they had arrived at a populated settlement built around a lake, a sliver of verdant green and blue amidst the sea of red.

"Welcome to Trinity," Robert declared, bringing his horse to a halt on a small rise overlooking the sprawling town before them. "Three nations have been vying for control over this little pocket of civilization for the past century or so, and two of them are currently at war. You might have heard something about that."

"How droll," Criosa remarked.

"It's currently an independent city-state, and there is absolutely no tolerance of fighting within sight of Trinity's gates. The city guards are the best money can buy, and they answer only to the First Lord. The less time we spend here, the better our chances of avoiding trouble are, so do what you came here for as quickly as you can."

"We need to speak to a sage named Sahar," Aiden said.

"I've heard of her," Robert nodded. "She has a small shop on the west side. Let's head in, but keep an eye on your money while you're here, okay?" With that, he nudged his thirsty horse in a steady walk along the final stretch of highway towards Trinity.

The outer wall was twelve feet high and almost as thick, built of the heavy red stone that most of the region seemed to be composed of — aside from the red sand, of course. The guards recognized Robert and allowed them to pass after a brief exchange, but their hands never strayed far from their weapons.

The locals were a made up of people from near and far. Dark and olive-skinned men and women walked amongst the fairer northern folk, and Aiden was reminded of Ariel, the sergeant from Culdeny who obviously shared a heritage with some of these people. Practically everyone carried a weapon of some sort, including the women heading to the lake for water.

"Where do these people come from?" Sayana asked, looking around at the population of exotic men and women.

"Most are from Aielund or Tulsone, those who didn't want to live under the yoke of the 'tyrannical rulers of the north' as they say. Present company excepted, of course." Criosa raised an eyebrow but remained silent. "Anyone with a bit of colour to their skin is related to the former slaves of the old Ramidian Empire, most of who escaped during the Kurhanir invasion a few decades ago. You've heard of the Free State of Lyden, right?"

"Indeed," Criosa nodded, "father has been attempting to replicate their senate to replace our House of Lords, but the old ways linger on beneath the surface."

"The escaped slaves took that province from the old empire and made it their own, but they've had a lot of political infighting over the years, and that sort of thing tends to get on one's nerves after a while, so many of them head north. Hocarum is a desolate place and not for the faint of heart, but at least it's politically stable."

Their group turned a corner and saw before them the splendour of the lake at the heart of Trinity. The glistening waters stretched a hundred yards and more in every direction, sheltered by the pine trees on the edges that had managed to survive the devastation that surrounded the city-state. Unlike the rest of the region, the soil underfoot was rich and dark, covered with lush grass immediately around the lake.

Within sight of the western gate, they came to a halt at a modest abode made of the same orange-red rock as all the other buildings in this exotic city. They dismounted and took a moment to stretch their legs, with Aiden watching cautiously as two dozen heavily armed soldiers marched right past them along the parched street.

"Mercenary companies use this place to find work, and I'd wager they've been finding a lot of it lately," Robert remarked as he watched the warriors pass by. "I've got a few contacts in town. I'll see if I can find out some recent news about the war."

"And if the Ironlord has been spotted recently," Nellise added grimly. "We can't be all that far from the location we saw in the vision back in Acadia."

"This is Sahar's place — speak with her and I'll find out what I can," Robert instructed, turning to depart.

"I'll water the horses... and myself," Pacian offered, gathering up the reins to lead their thirsty mounts to the edge of the lake, where many other horses were drinking their fill.

Aiden took stock of the small abode before them. Two heavily armed men stood at the entrance, watching them with stoic calm and weapons at the ready. Criosa walked up to them with confidence in her step, looked up right into their faces and addressed them.

"We have come to speak with the sage Sahar," she declared with authority. The guards neither moved nor responded to her words, but the oak door just behind them opened and a dark-skinned woman peered through the gap.

"I do not normally speak to visitors without an appointment," she informed them with a husky voice. "It is plainly obvious that you have travelled from the north, and I would ask how you came to hear about me."

"A wizard named Terinus told us to meet with you," Aiden volunteered. Her expression changed to one of surprise, tinged with what he suspected was fear.

"Terinus sent you? Please, come in," she breathed, opening the door wide to permit them entry. The guards parted to either side and allowed them to enter.

The house was pleasantly cool inside, dimly lit by small windows, along with a few candles that filled the room with a musky aroma. Decorative curtains lined the walls in blue and green, no doubt to provide respite from the pervasive red glare throughout the region. Books and scrolls were neatly arranged on tall bookshelves, surrounding a large desk with curious oddities placed along the far edge.

"It isn't often Terinus sends anyone to meet with me," Sahar mentioned as she breezed across the room towards her desk. She was dressed in blue silk robes which flowed in her wake, and her black hair was tied back in a simple arrangement to keep it out of her dark eyes. "Those that do come here always have something interesting to say." Criosa went through the usual introductions, but if Sahar was impressed to be in the presence of Aielish nobility, she did not show it.

"I find it curious an esteemed sage would take up residence in this rough, frontier town," Nellise remarked, glancing with longing at a comfortable seat that would probably crumble under the weight of her armour.

"Trinity isn't so bad, except when there is a war being fought and the place fills with mercenaries," Sahar explained with a warm smile, revealing beautiful white teeth contrasting against her dark skin. "That seems to be happening more and more these days, and I have spoken with the First Lord about expanding Trinity's standing forces so he could dispense with hiring mercenaries. They can be a rough bunch, I'm sure you understand."

"Some of them aren't so bad," Sayana said, gazing idly at the curtains and knick-knacks that filled the room. Aiden exchanged a quick glance with Criosa, who couldn't conceal her smile.

"I spent the early years of my life learning from what little knowledge remained in Lyden after the uprising," Sahar continued. "Then I spent a decade working out of the city of Kai in the east, which is a great repository of knowledge and the last true city of Hocarum."

"What brought you here, then?" Nellise prompted curiously.

"I remember uncovering some strange relics in the fields I worked as a little girl, which fascinated me no end," Sahar went on, sitting down on a well-worn chair at her desk. "The idea that precious artifacts could simply be tossed away or lost was abhorrent, so I resolved to dedicate my time to recovering as much as I could."

"The wasteland around us covers an entire civilization, and if I can save even a small amount of information about what happened here, then I will have served humanity well. So, tell me, my young friends, what brings you to my door?"

"Clearly you are an expert with all manner of artifacts," Aiden suggested, pulling the small lead box out of his pouch. "I think Terinus did the right thing by sending us to see you. You should probably stand back a bit, Sy," he cautioned the sorceress, who quickly put some distance between the two of them. When she was clear, Aiden opened the box to reveal the cursed amulet. Sahar leaned forward and peered curiously at the amulet before a look of recognition passed over her face.

"Oh, I remember this one," she hummed, taking the box and examining the contents with an expert eye. "Yes, a very unique amulet, bearing the markings of an ancient people who have long since vanished from the world."

"You've seen this before?" Aiden asked with intensity.

"Yes, around seven months ago I believe," Sahar replied, confused as to his reaction.

"Do you recall to whom you sold it?" Criosa inquired with a little more diplomacy.

"I did not sell it, but I did identify it for a man who brought it here," Sahar replied defensively. "What is this all about?"

"This is a cursed relic that bears a poisonous aura," Aiden explained heavily, snapping the box shut. "It was sent to the Baron of Highmarch as a 'gift', but it recently took the life of the Baroness Saffron."

"I am at a loss for words," Sahar breathed, her eyes wide as she looked back and forth between them. "Let me assure you that I had nothing to do with such a heinous act. If this relic bears some sort of curse, it was unknown to me."

"She is speaking the truth," Nellise informed the others after gazing at the sage with her golden eyes for a long moment.

"I had hoped that would be the case, but we had to make sure," Aiden assured Sahar, pulling a chair over and sitting on it. "Do you happen to know where we can find this man?"

"I haven't seen him since he departed, shortly after I verified the authenticity of the relic."

"A pity, I would have liked to catch him and find out his reasons for attempting to take the baron's life, although that isn't the primary reason for our visit. Perhaps I should show you rather than try and explain with words." He reached into his pouch and pulled out the Lexicon, flipping open the top and pressing the nodule that made the ghostly pages appear above it.

Sahar was entranced as she gazed at the section Aiden pointed to, showing the image of the amulet glowing brightly at the centre of a torus atop a large staff.

"What strange magic is this?" she whispered, attempting to touch the page with one extended hand, which simply passed through the glowing image as if it weren't there.

"Whoever those people were, the ones who made the amulet, they also made this little wonder," Aiden said. "Tell me, have you ever seen either of these pieces — the staff or the headpiece?" Sahar peered at the image closely, and then became quite excited all of a sudden. She turned around in her chair and reached into a drawer on her desk, rummaged around for a moment, and then pulled out a large metal object.

It was round, flat, and inscribed with the runes of the long-deceased race Aiden had become so familiar with. To his astonishment, it bore a striking resemblance to the head of the staff within the picture, down to the hole in the centre. His pulse raced as he glanced back at Criosa, for they had found what appeared to be the first piece of the staff connected to the Ironlord.

"I found this in the desert, years ago," Sahar explained, caressing the surface of the headpiece with delicate fingers. "Long have I wondered about its purpose and origins, but now..." she gestured to the lead box Aiden had put aside and with trembling hands, he opened it, withdrew the amulet, and handed it to Sahar.

She grasped it eagerly and carefully slotted the relic into the centre of the headpiece, finding the two were a perfect fit.

"Remarkable," she whispered, looking upon her treasured piece with new eyes. Aiden had hoped something else might happen when the two came into contact, and was crestfallen when nothing unusual occurred.

"It must need the staff section to be complete," he mused, scratching his chin in thought. "Do you have any clues as to where it might be located?" Sahar pulled her eyes away from the relic to regard Aiden thoughtfully.

"The original dig we undertook to recover this headpiece was in a cave, roughly halfway between here and the ruins of Sohcareb," she said. "I felt we only scratched the surface of the secrets the place held, and resolved to investigate it further at a later time."

"You never went back?" Criosa pressed.

"Not personally, though I did hire an excavation team to shift some of the collapsed stone to see what was underneath," Sahar went on. "They never returned, and the desert hunters I sent to find them also did not return. It is my thinking that something important lies in that cave, though I cannot persuade anyone else to travel there and discover what happened. For all I know, the staff could be in there somewhere, waiting to be uncovered."

"What sort of dangers exist in the desert?" Nellise asked.

"Aside from the more mundane threats like nomadic hunters and the like, there are great creatures that dwell in the sand and worse, from what I have heard. You're not considering travelling to the cave, are you?" Aiden looked at the headpiece of the staff and considered the implications of what they might face, weighing it against the possibility that this staff was going to prove useful against their foe.

"Ma'am, you just found yourself a new team of excavators," he informed Sahar without a trace of humour.

Chapter Sixteen

"Thanks for volunteering me," Robert grumbled when Aiden explained their task a short time later. He and his other companions sat in a crowded tavern, eating the most expensive meal Aiden had ever seen. The price of everything in this place was so high that he felt Trinity may be an interesting place to visit, but he wouldn't want to live here.

"Actually, I did that," Criosa said with a mirthless grin. "You are still beholden to your promise to serve Aielund until the threat has ended, remember?"

"Yeah... right," the mercenary muttered, clearly chafing at the restrictions placed upon him. "I don't think you know what you're in for. We have twenty miles and more to cover to reach this excavation site, and there's no telling what we'll find when we get there, let alone who might find us before then. It's damned risky."

"I know, but the sooner we leave, the sooner we get it over and done with," Aiden said. As he stood and reached for his dusty longcoat, he noticed a tall, intimidating warrior standing before the table, blocking their exit.

"Robert Black, I never thought I'd see your face around here again," growled the large man, glaring past Aiden to where the mercenary sat. He wore heavy armour encrusted with the ubiquitous red dirt of the region, and carried a large warhammer over his shoulder. Despite his receding grey hair, his eyes were like iron, and his rigid jaw gave the impression of a man unwilling to compromise. Robert puffed on his cigar for a moment before turning to address the newcomer.

"Brian, fancy meeting you here," he drawled. "Have you lost weight? You're looking fit."

"That's Captain Brian to you," Brian grunted. "And I think I'm doing a bit better than you. Lost yourself an eye there, mate. I hope it hurt, you cheating bastard. Let's cut the bullshit," he growled, leaning on the table with two clenched fists. He smelled of strong wine and anger. "You still owe me for those siege engines you bought, months ago. You're weeks overdue, in case you hadn't noticed, and you're not leaving here until we settle accounts."

"Yeah, I was thinking about you when I arrived," Robert remarked blandly. "I was thinking 'I need to find Brian and pay him back, 'cause he's such a pauper he couldn't live without the five grand I owe'. The bloody trebuchets weren't half as good as you promised. We had to do a lot of repairs before they were even usable. The way I figure, you owe me for the work my lads did, so we're even."

"Okay, if you fixed 'em up, hand 'em back to me and I will," Brian suggested.

"No can do, mate," Robert responded, "they were destroyed in the siege of Culdeny."

"That's on me," Pacian added helpfully. "What can I say? I love my work."

"Well then you do owe me. A deal's a deal, mate," Brian suggested ominously as three other large warriors stepped in behind him to add their weight to what was rapidly becoming the prelude to a fight. "I see you've got some new friends here. Pretty ones, too. Don't see too many armoured women walking about, but them that do aren't to be taken lightly. Maybe one of them could loan you some coin so you can pay back your good friend Brian, before he takes out your other eye as payment?"

"Do we have time for this?" Sayana asked quietly, receiving a brief shake of Aiden's head in reply. She stood and raised her hands, and suddenly Brian was tumbling up towards the ceiling. He smashed through the tiled roof and disappeared in a cloud of dust and debris. His associates, taken aback by the unexpected exit of their boss, hesitated for a moment in confusion, which was all Sayana needed to act.

Taking out her staff, she pointed it threateningly at the three large men towering over her. The rest of the tavern's patrons, a motley assortment of brigands, mercenaries and soldiers were staring at the scene, whispering to each other in fear at the woman who could work powerful magic with a simple gesture.

"The next man who moves against us will find himself torn into fifty different pieces by my friend here," Robert growled at the assembled warriors. "The rest of you will have to figure out how to put him back together again." His words had the desired effect — Brian's associates backed away, though the tension in the room could be cut with a knife.

"We're leaving, now," Aiden muttered under his breath. "If this excavation site doesn't contain what we're looking for, we head straight back to the fort and make sure it's ready to withstand the coming siege."

"Much good that'll do if we don't find something useful," Robert grunted. "By the way, thanks for the assist, Sy. I had a feeling I'd run into some old friends down here, but you probably shouldn't have done that. Brian has powerful friends who'll avenge him."

"He's still alive," Sayana corrected him. "He's just going to be stuck on the roof for a while."

"That's probably not going to make much difference in the long run," Robert answered, glancing around at the unfriendly faces glaring back at him as they left the tavern.

They hastily assembled their gear and made ready to depart. A number of Trinity guardsmen were heading in the direction of the tavern so Aiden and the others quickly moved out of the area. Shortly, they were astride their horses and cantering out of the southern gate, just as the sun was passing its zenith. The guards only seemed to care what was coming into the city, for they made no move to stop or investigate them on the way through.

The road south of Trinity was empty, leading directly into the deep wasteland. Only when the road veered to the west did they stop for a short rest to water the horses. When they set out once more, they altered course, leaving the road far behind. Their heading took them directly toward distant rock formations Sahar had pointed out on the map.

Travel became difficult in the shifting sands of the Hocarum Desert, and it was especially trying on the northern horses, unused to the heat and uneven terrain. Not long afterward the winds picked up, adding to their discomfort as the fine gritty sand blasted them mercilessly.

Aiden took a spare shirt and wrapped it around his head to provide some relief, but more than that, he was concerned about losing their way in the desert, for every sand dune seemed the same as the last. Only Sayana's uncanny knack for direction provided them with reassurance, and even then, it was more a measure of faith than of hard fact.

Tall spires of rock began to appear as they continued on, more of the same curious formations that had been sculpted by the fierce winds over the years. They towered over the landscape, providing Aiden with the hope they were nearing their destination. A glint of shining light in the sky indicated Spartan was shadowing their course, but as Aiden squinted up into the sky, he thought he saw the dragon flying down towards them with increasing speed.

There is something wrong here, Salinder said with a weak voice in Aiden's mind, adding to the feeling of disquiet welling up in his chest.

"Can you be more specific?" Aiden asked, signalling for the others to halt as he brought his horse to a standstill.

Reality has been altered, came the cryptic reply. A falsehood stands before us.

"That doesn't help," Aiden mumbled, glancing around at their surroundings to try and fathom what the sword was talking about. There was only the sand and rock formations, some of which seemed over a hundred feet in height. As he looked, however, Aiden thought he noticed that one of the formations directly ahead of them was closer than before. It must have been a trick of the heat rising from the parched surface, for it almost appeared to be moving.

The rock formation seemed to warp and distort, reforming into a different shape. The rippling increased until it began to resemble something other than mere rock. His horse suddenly reared, screaming in terror as the illusion vanished and a dragon sat before them, not fifty yards away.

It loomed over the small group, impossibly large, as if the side of a mountain had been hewn from the rock and given form. Its wings were folded neatly along its back as it sat upon its haunches, staring down at them with eyes the colour of flame. Scales like armour plates lined its serpentine body, the same hue as the red sands around them.

It is Leviachon, Salinder informed Aiden, who detected a faint trace of fear in his voice. Aiden was doing all he could to control his mount, while his friends were having similar difficulties. Through all this the dragon sat, observing the impact of its sudden appearance impassively, like a cat watching a trapped mouse try and scurry away.

Ordinarily, I do not talk to my food before I eat it, but one of you is in possession of something... interesting, the sound of Leviachon's voice rumbled in Aiden's mind like an erupting volcano. The sound of the dragon sniffing at them with its gargantuan nostrils could be heard as Aiden finally brought his terrified horse under control.

He recalled the warning Salinder had given him about Leviachon earlier in their journey, and knew they were in serious trouble. He tucked the Lexicon deep within his pouch and hoped the dragon wouldn't notice it. If ever there was a dragon that lived up to the winged creatures' fearsome reputation, it was this one.

"What is it you want?" he shouted up to it, doing his best to keep his voice strong and firm in spite of the terror welling in his heart. Instead of answering, the dragon's head snaked down towards him. The head was over fifteen feet high and sported a mouth filled with teeth as long as a man was tall. Long scars adorned its head and neck, a sure sign of many years of battles survived. He felt the moisture of its breath which stank of rotting meat.

I have sensed your approach across the mountains and the burning sands, Leviachon purred. For long weeks I have awaited your arrival. You are dripping with ancient power and something else, something weak, yet alive within the marvellous sword you carry at your side. I will take it all, human — thank you for delivering such treasures to me. The great maw opened revealing a cavernous mouth lined with a forest of immense teeth.

A flash of silver suddenly appeared before them as Spartan struck the ground, rearing up between Aiden's companions and the bulk of the gigantic red dragon. Leviachon's head snaked back in surprise and alarm, until the two dragons were staring at each other. Spartan could reach fifteen feet in height when reared up on his legs, but he was tiny compared to the colossal monster before them, whose head must have been fifty feet above the ground.

A series of low growls and snarls passed between the two dragons, clearly a form of communication. Although Aiden was unable to comprehend their dialogue, Salinder took the liberty of translating for them, speaking within the minds of all of his companions.

These are not for you, Spartan warned their immense adversary. We seek to destroy our mutual enemy. Let us be.

I find your fascination with these tiny creatures amusing, Leviachon retorted. You know what they are capable of, yet you would stand against your own kind in their favour?

They are not all monsters, Spartan stated clearly. You would do well not to treat all creatures with such disdain.

You have been shackled, dragonet, Leviachon growled. You stand before me draped in their vestments of war, daring to speak to me as an equal. They will not rest until every last one of us is dead, our race extinct. Clearly you have been manipulated into becoming their pet. Perhaps you even let them ride you like a common horse?

I respect them, no more, Spartan corrected. I do not ask you to do the same, for I know your heart is as scarred as your body, but you need to step aside.

This is my land. Nobody tells me what to do, Leviachon snarled, spreading his wings. They were easily over a hundred feet across, and their shadow fell over the group sitting on their horses, clutching the reins as their fate was decided by the two dragons before them. If you care for these insignificant mortals so much, let us see if you can protect them.

RIDE! Spartan's voice roared through their minds, as the small dragon leaped into the air and charged directly at his gargantuan cousin. Spartan crashed into the chest of Leviachon, biting and clawing at the larger dragon's exposed underbelly. Leviachon, taken aback by the sudden move, thrashed about as Spartan's teeth sank into his flesh, shaking the ground when he toppled over.

Aiden, momentarily awed by the scale of the fight before them, snapped out of his trance and dug his boots into his horse's flank, leading the rest of his companions as they tried to flee the fight.

Without really knowing where he was heading, Aiden spurred his horse onward. He scanned the area ahead, looking for somewhere to hide from the colossal dragon, for as much as he respected Spartan's courage, his foe was many times larger and Aiden had little hope he would achieve anything more than a brief delay.

His thoughts were proven correct a moment later as Spartan was thrown in front of them, plunging into the dunes with a dull thud. Aiden glanced behind him and saw the towering might of Leviachon rise up from the sand, his wings beating down a hurricane of wind as he took to the sky, a demonic silhouette against the fierce light of the desert sun.

While Robert focused on riding hard, Sayana turned in the saddle and shot a crackling bolt of electricity, striking the huge dragon squarely in the chest. The blast only seemed to annoy Leviachon more, causing him to alter course towards them. As the huge dragon's maw snaked closer, Spartan emerged from the sands and flashed past, clawing at the larger dragon's eyes.

Leviachon roared in anger and pivoted in the air, pursuing the small dragon. Aiden was forced to keep his attention on the land ahead, scouring the horizon for a place to make their stand. A large abutment of rock rose from the sands as they crested a rise and, lacking any better objective, Aiden pointed it out to the others and pressed on.

Glancing back to see how Spartan was faring, Aiden's eyes widened at the sight of their ally diving through the air, with the gigantic spectre of Leviachon right on his tail. So, intent was he on catching Spartan that when the small dragon veered sharply to avoid a tower of rocks, Leviachon was unable to pivot in time and crashed into the formation.

The ground shook as the immense serpentine body ploughed through the sands, sending a storm of red dirt and rock into the air as he tumbled over. A sense of elation surged through Aiden at the fall of the monster, though it was short lived, for Leviachon was on his feet a moment later and made straight for the horses.

Their horses scattered to avoid the snapping jaws, and Sayana summoned and discharged a blast of crackling green energy right into Leviachon's nose, searing flesh and leaving blackened tissue in its wake. He roared in agony and veered away, streaming smoke from the vicious wound. Aiden hoped that might be enough to make the dragon break off the attack, but it seemed Leviachon was only positioning himself for something else.

The immense dragon wheeled around in the sky and took in a deep breath, then aimed directly for Sayana and Robert. As the dragon's maw opened wide, intense fires building within were on the verge of erupting, but Spartan appeared from above, a shining sliver of steel diving towards Leviachon's head, pushing it straight into the ground.

The roar of the flames was muffled as the sand absorbed most of the fire, turning the sand into glass and sending a wave of heat washing over Aiden and the others, riding far ahead of the conflagration. Leviachon's speed upon contact with the ground was such that he flipped over lengthways. His tail stood over a hundred feet in the sky above, before crashing down to the right of Robert and Sayana, shaking the ground and sending up a cloud of red sand.

Spartan pressed his advantage, clawing and biting at his opponent's exposed underbelly once more until he was thrown backward by a powerful sweep of Leviachon's tail. As the smaller dragon attempted to right himself in the air, his foe uttered a series of low growls, and suddenly Spartan froze in mid-air — neither falling nor flying, encased in some sort of rippling sphere of magic.

Aiden returned his focus to the rock formation they were approaching and to his relief, saw that a small gash on the side of the stone appeared to be the entrance to a cave. Steering his horse directly for it, he realized they needed another minute to reach safety — time they might not have. An ominous roar erupted from behind them once more, and with dismay Aiden knew that Spartan was no longer able to help them.

"Ride for the cave!" he called to the others as he coaxed one last burst of speed from his tired horse. With his heart pounding in his ears, Aiden and the others covered the final distance to safety, fully expecting to perish in flames at any moment. Once within the relative safety of the cave, he turned to see what had happened and suddenly realized how they'd survived.

Nellise had turned around and headed back towards the imprisoned Spartan, still frozen in time above the ground. Leviachon had given chase and was almost on top of her as she slowed down and chanted a prayer. Aiden cursed loudly, understanding she had chosen to save Spartan at the cost of her own life. Pacian cried out her name in a futile warning as Leviachon swooped towards her.

The sphere encasing Spartan suddenly vanished and at that moment she was obscured by Leviachon's bulk. Pacian let out a strangled cry as a trail of blood soaked the desert sands where her horse had been a moment earlier. Leviachon continued through the air, crunching down on his bloody meal as Spartan wheeled around in the air and gave chase.

Aiden gaped in horror until he glimpsed light reflecting off armour. Nellise emerged from the sand, still very much alive, but without her horse. Glancing around briefly, she spotted the others looking back at her from the cave entrance and started towards them as quickly as she could.

Spartan continued to harass the red dragon as they soared through the air, all attempts to injure or distract the huge monster being shrugged off. It was when Spartan came a little too close that Leviachon acted, reaching out his claws to grasp the smaller dragon firmly in his talons. The creatures bellowed as they struggled in mid-air, with Leviachon pummelling his cousin, slicing through his armour to rain dragon blood over the desert.

Leviachon had finished savaging Spartan and simply dropped him onto the red sands, where he laid unmoving. Aiden's heart pounded in his chest as he saw the immense dragon bank in the sky towards Nellise, who was frantically attempting to reach the cave.

"That's it, I'm getting her safe," Pacian snapped, pulling out his repeating crossbow and making ready to ride back out onto the field. Robert put a gauntleted hand across his chest, and gave him a scathing look with his eye.

"If you go out there, you'll both die," he warned. Pacian glared back at him and for a moment, Aiden was certain they'd come to blows.

"If she can come a little closer, I can teleport her here," Sayana interrupted, her eyes fixated on the scene outside.

Nellise clearly knew what was approaching, for she suddenly gave up trying to escape and drew Solas Aingeal, turning to face the oncoming nightmare with calm and steady nerves. The sword flared into radiant brilliance, as bright and long as Aiden had ever seen it, and the power of the blade was not lost on Leviachon.

The dragon flared his wings and landed heavily on the ground before Nellise, who slowly began backing away. Leviachon, his blackened snout still smoking from Sayana's attack, regarded the cleric curiously.

If you think that weapon is going to stop me, you are sorely mistaken, the dragon purred as he slowly began moving towards her, evidently savouring the moment.

Leviachon struck at Nellise, knocking her from her feet and tearing off some of her armour plates, easily crushing them into scrap with one mighty claw. She struggled to regain her footing while the dragon watched, before he again slammed her to the ground. Unwilling to die on her knees, Nellise crawled back to her feet and when the claw flashed towards her again, she swung Solas Aingeal and struck a telling blow against the dragon who bellowed out a roar at the flash of pain.

He stopped toying with her and ripped the sword from her grasp with one swipe of his claw. Smoke arose from the claw as the blade burned his scaled skin, but he simply sneered down at the Nellise as he tossed the sword into the desert. Robert and Sayana spurred their reluctant mount towards the scene of the fight, until they were close enough for the sorceress to point her staff at Nellise. With a violet flash, the cleric vanished, and Sayana swung the staff over her head and pointed it towards the cave, whereupon Nellise reappeared on the hard, stone floor, bloodied but intact.

Leviachon looked towards Robert with undisguised hatred, but before the dragon could make his next move, a flash of silver shot past, leaving a trail of blood across his chin. Leviachon reeled backwards, his immense head turning to regard Spartan's reappearance with a derisive snarl.

Spartan, wielding Solas Aingeal in one claw, flew along the length of Leviachon's body and held the holy blade out, cutting a searing line along his scaled flesh. Roaring in pain and anger, Leviachon snapped at the smaller dragon's tail, but Spartan was simply too fast.

Robert rode hard for the cave, with Spartan flying just above him and the wounded Leviachon kicking up a storm of sand in furious pursuit. Aiden knew it was going to be close, so he took out one of his scrolls, and after Spartan and Robert's horse were both within the confines of the cave, read the ancient parchment.

With all the discipline he could muster, Aiden intoned the words correctly and the scroll turned into fiery ash in his hand. He pointed towards the rocky formation above the cave entrance. The earth shook as the magic took hold, and sent a familiar thrill of energy surging through him.

Rocks the size of buildings were torn from the side of the small hill and dropped over the entrance. First one, then an avalanche of dislodged boulders fell from above, forcing Aiden and the others back a few steps as the rock fall blocked the cave entrance and showered down upon Leviachon who rushed towards them, only twenty yards away.

The agonized bellow of the dragon could be heard even over the noise, until the light faded and the rockfall ceased. When all was quiet once more, the entrance was completely closed off, separating them from the monster. Aiden slid off his horse and slumped to the ground, breathing hard as he waited for his heart to slow down.

A small tongue of flame appeared in the gloom, lighting the small group and their current plight. Everyone seemed to be alive and more or less intact, but for Spartan was clearly very injured.

"Now do you see why I hate dragons so much?" Sayana said with tired cynicism. "Present company excepted, of course."

Leviachon does not represent my kind, Spartan replied, his voice sounding strong within their minds even as Aiden winced at the sight of his damaged armour. The dragon had been sorely beaten in the fight and lay curled upon the cave floor, with Solas Aingeal still held in one claw.

"Thank you for saving us," Aiden said to him with genuine gratitude. "I can't imagine what it took for you to stand against your cousin like that."

"Are you going to be okay?" Criosa asked tentatively.

With time, my wounds will fully heal, Spartan replied. Thank you for your concern.

"Why did you have to be so damn brave?" Pacian said to Nellise in admiration.

"Call it a character flaw," she replied, unused to such attention. She withdrew her healing crystal and whispered prayers, allowing a healing aura to flow over the small dragon.

"Nice work," Robert said to Sayana, who nodded a smiled faintly at his genuine praise.

While recovering their strength and their nerve, Pacian explored through the cave a little to see if there was a way out, and before long reported an opening into a tunnel on the far side. The floor slanted down on a gradual slope, descending into the earth. Its construction was definitely similar to the ancient tunnels running under Acadia and Akora, with a strange metal structure built into the rock.

"This place looks like the sort of thing we're searching for," Sayana remarked as she examined the walls. "Could we have just stumbled upon the place Sahar was speaking of?"

"According to the map she gave me, we had another half a mile or so before we reached the place she was talking about," Aiden replied. "That door back there hadn't been opened in a very long time, whereas the excavation site she spoke of had been visited previously."

"We need to find out where we've ended up, because there's no chance we can go back the way we came," Criosa said from somewhere next to Aiden. "Spartan, are you able to move yet?"

I am recovering, though slowly, the dragon's smooth voice said in his mind.

"I need some more time with him," Nellise explained to Criosa. "Give me an hour and I'll have him back on his feet."

"Alright, we'll go ahead and see where this passage leads," Criosa responded. With a gesture, she indicated for Pacian to lead the way, and she placed a grateful hand gently upon Spartan's flank as she went past.

With Pacian in the lead, they moved further in, unsure what to expect. The metal walls were in relatively good condition, although Aiden had no way of knowing just how old this underground edifice was. It continued on at its unusual angle, descending into the earth for a few more minutes until they came to a metal door.

"Be my guest," Aiden said to Pacian.

"What am I, a set of lock picks on legs?" his old friend hedged.

"Oh, let me do it," Criosa hissed. The princess pulled out her own set of lock picks from a pouch and headed for the door.

"Since when have you been able to open locks?" Pacian asked suspiciously.

"The king's spymaster thought it would come in handy," she replied archly, selecting the correct tool and leaning in. Just before she touched it however, Pacian's hand shot out and restrained her, less than an inch from the lock itself.

"Hold perfectly still," he whispered tersely. Criosa stared back at him, unsure what had just happened. Pacian pointed down at the ground, where in amongst the dust the outline of a pressure plate could be seen — with Criosa's foot planted firmly upon it. Pacian dropped to the ground and peered closely at the floor, blowing away the dust and attempting to discern what she had just triggered.

"Cunning bastards," he breathed, tracing a line in the dirt back towards the wall nearby.

"What is it?" Criosa hissed, not daring to move a muscle. Pacian was peering intently at the wall, where he saw something he didn't quite understand.

"Aiden, you'd better take a look," he warned, prompting him to lean in and see what he'd found. Hidden behind a tile on the wall was a series of runes, all of which were in the increasing familiar language of the ancient builders.

"Oh," he groaned, certain it was an advanced security mechanism created by the brilliant minds behind the Lexicon. Fetching the small device from his pouch, Aiden began flipping through the glowing pages of the tome until he found something that matched the inscription upon the wall.

"Yeah, it's a trap left when the residents deserted this place eons ago," he explained grimly. "If you lift your foot off the floor, it will unleash powerful energies that will incinerate all of us in an instant."

"Lovely," Robert grunted. "Nothing personal mate, but we're just gonna back up a little..."

"Can you disable it?" Criosa asked in a tiny voice with perspiration evident upon her brow.

"Maybe, but maybe it's not even working after all these years?" Pacian wondered, trying to peer through the cracks in the wall.

"You might have a point there," Aiden mused. "When I first found the Lexicon, it didn't do anything until I exposed it to an old generator of theirs. I think the power dissipates over time, and given the age—"

"Are seriously thinking about taking that risk?" Criosa interrupted, almost hysterically. "Disarm it first, please!" Pacian nodded soberly, and then pulled off his gloves and reached into the gap. Tense moments went past as Aiden watched his friend slowly feel his way around the internal mechanism. It didn't help his nerves at all to notice Pacian's hands trembling as he worked.

"There's a wire connecting it to the floor plate," he mentioned quietly, "but it feels sort of rusty. I don't know if cutting it will set it off or disable it."

"Well I can't stay like this forever," Criosa said.

"Cut it," Aiden suggested.

"What are you basing that on?" Pacian asked suspiciously.

"Nothing lasts forever, not even their magic. Just do it."

"Yeah right," Pacian muttered as he fetched a small tool out of his pouch and carefully shoved it into the gap. Aiden offered a hand to Criosa, who gripped it tightly as their fate was decided by chance. They both flinched as the sound of the wire being severed cut through the air, and Aiden breathed heavily with relief when he realized they were all still alive.

"See, nothing to worry about," he said with a sheepish grin as Criosa stepped away from the door and practically collapsed into his arms.

"I don't think I'm cut out for this sort of thing anymore," Pacian mumbled as he mopped sweat from his forehead.

"Compared to that, getting this door opened will be a cinch," Aiden suggested as he stroked Criosa's hair. Pacian set to work on the lock, and within a minute he managed to get the stubborn door open.

Hot, stale air washed over them as they looked into another ancient passageway, in relatively pristine condition compared to the passage where they stood. Aiden took the lead, pleased there was no sign of life along the metal hallway. The passage soon came to a junction, and one way seemed as good as another, so he turned left and continued on, the footfalls of his companions barely audible behind him.

On the floor up ahead, Aiden saw the remains of several people, decaying amongst their equipment. He'd seen enough dead bodies recently to guess that they'd been here for only a few years, which he found curious.

"They must have found another way in, because nobody's been along that corridor in centuries," he mused.

"Do you have any idea how they perished?" Criosa asked uncomfortably.

"That would be Nel's area of expertise," Aiden replied, glancing around the area. Ahead, he saw a stairway leading up from the current floor, upon which he could see sandy footprints.

"Damn this place is hot," Pacian remarked as he poked his head into one of the nearby doors. "A bit of a mess, too. Whoever left here did so in a hurry. I don't understand why some of this furniture is broken, though. Maybe there was an earthquake sometime in the past?" The sound of approaching footsteps put them on edge until Nellise came into view, with Spartan lumbering along behind her.

"You scared me half to death," Criosa admonished her, lowering her bow.

"Terribly sorry about that," the cleric said as she took in the scene around them. Aiden noted that what remained of her armour was dented and scratched, much like Spartan's. Sayana went to investigate the footprints, while Nellise took a closer look at the desiccated cadavers that leered lifelessly at the ceiling.

"Those people came in from this stairway," Sayana said, interrupting Aiden's train of thought. "They went through that passageway just ahead, and then returned at a later time to die here."

"As to the cause of their deaths, there are no signs of fatal injuries on any of those present, so I can only conjecture that it was some sort of poison," Nellise added after her initial assessment.

"This tunnel has collapsed," Sayana's echoing voice called from above them in the stairway. "I think it might have led outside."

"We may have to come back this way and try to dig our way out," Criosa said, "but by a strange twist of fate, I think we've ended up at the place we were looking for anyway."

"Are you up for this?" Aiden asked Spartan who loomed in the corridor at the rear of the group.

I will do my utmost to keep up with you, the dragon replied stoically. Try to avoid angering anything especially large, if you can.

"We always try," Aiden said blandly, creating a magical light to glow from the tip of his sword, which he held high as they began to descend the stairs into the gloom below.

Chapter Seventeen

"We're in the middle of a desert landscape, yet this place is somehow filled with water?" Criosa remarked as they looked at the two feet of water covering the floor of the lower level. Her voice echoed throughout the chamber, along with the subtle sloshing of the otherwise calm waters.

"There must be an underground lake or river nearby," Robert mused. "I hope what we're looking for is around here someplace, or someone's going for a swim."

"Do you remember the waters under Ferrumgaard?" Nellise asked of Aiden.

"All too well I'm afraid," Aiden replied quietly as he recalled the vast underground lake in the ruined dwarven city.

"Even underground, those waters had life growing within them. If this place has been flooded for at least as long, I would have expected to see lichen and other simple plants growing here. It's... barren."

"What are you suggesting?" Criosa inquired suspiciously.

"The insights I received from on high suggested a water-borne toxin was the demise of those poor men upstairs."

"So... don't drink the water?" Aiden suggested.

"It's more than that," Nellise answered. "There's something very strange here, but I can't put my finger on it. I recommend that we complete our task and be gone from here as quickly as possible."

"Well, I could have told you that," Robert scoffed mildly. "Get on with it, Aiden." Resigned to their fate, Aiden took the first steps into the cool water and began wading through the passage.

Doors appeared at regular intervals to each side of the wide tunnel, each of them opening into a large chamber bereft of anything more than scattered flotsam from long decayed furniture floating on the water. There was a haunted feeling about the place that made Aiden's neck hair stand on end.

"No matter how many of these ancient places we find," he murmured, "I can't shake the feeling we're walking through memories of something that used to hold great importance, but has been long forgotten."

Nothing lives forever, not even the people who built this place, Spartan added in his mind-voice, looking up at the cracked ceiling and wondering at the possibilities.

An intersection gave them a choice of directions, each of which looked the same as the other. Aiden chose the path to the left, for it seemed to rise at an angle out of the waters, and he was hopeful of discovering something that hadn't been destroyed. The bleached bones of a former visitor drifted past, serving as further reminder of the peril they faced.

The waters became shallow as they continued on, and soon they arrived at a very large door, made from solid stone and ringed with many sigils in the ancient language only Aiden had a chance of translating.

"That's going to take me a while," he muttered, noting without relish the sheer volume of text inscribed on the door.

"Can't we just ignore it and see what's inside?" Pacian prompted impatiently.

"For all we know it says 'never enter this door on pain of death'," Aiden warned.

"This place has been abandoned for a long time," Pacian retorted. "If there's anything of value still to be plucked from what remains, it'll be behind the door that says 'do not open this door.'"

"He's got a point," Robert said with a shrug. Aiden sighed and took out the Lexicon, while Pacian began feeling his way across the door with sensitive fingers, looking for any sort of locking mechanism.

"While you're doing that, Sayana and I will look around some more," Criosa said, gesturing for the sorceress to accompany her back down the hallway. Aiden nodded absently, already deep within the arcane pages of the Lexicon seeking clues as to the nature of this ominously inscribed door.

"Wait... it's already open," Pacian declared, pushing against its stone bulk. A vertical crack appeared in the middle of the door, but it opened no further. Pacian suddenly stumbled and only avoided falling by grabbing the wall with one hand.

"Are you okay?" Nellise asked, coming to his side.

"Just feeling a bit weak is all," he muttered with a strained voice. "I'll be alright in a minute." Aiden put the Lexicon back into his pouch and investigated the crack Pacian had discovered.

"This isn't an opening, it's damaged," he murmured as he traced a gloved finger along its length. Robert came in for a closer look and came to the same conclusion.

"Something hit it from the inside," the mercenary confirmed.

"If these words indicate some sort of security measure like the other one, I'd say they've been inert for just as long," Aiden suggested. He traced the glyphs on his gauntlet and took a firm hold of the door, then heaved with all the strength he could muster. The gauntlet whirred in protest, but after a few moments of strain, the stone door suddenly collapsed inwards, slamming onto the floor with such force it broke in half on impact.

As the dust cleared, Aiden held his sword aloft to shed its light and saw a vast, circular chamber extending beyond his sight. Alcoves twice the size of a man were cut into the wall at regular intervals and lines of metal ran along the walls like shining veins. Metal fragments were scattered over the floor, through the middle of which ran a large crack, glowing with a white light shining from beneath.

"Now this is more like it," Aiden breathed as he walked into the chamber, noticing a metal block four feet high in the centre of the room. Moving cautiously towards it, he saw the alcoves within the range of his light contained metal pieces of what could only be golems, shaped as they were to resemble legs and arms. "This must be where they built their constructs," he mused thoughtfully, taking a closer look at the pile within one alcove.

"Don't get too close," Robert warned as the rest followed him in. "We don't know if something's going to wake up and rip your face off."

"This place is long dead," Aiden assured him, crouching down to peer at the solid metal foot of a golem, unattached to the rest of its body.

"There is something at the far end of the chamber," Nellise called, having walked along with Pacian through the middle of the room.

"I'll be with you in a minute," Aiden said, taking one last look at the various components lying around, before continuing towards the centre of the room to investigate the metal block. He was not surprised to find more language on the top, similar to the sigils he had seen on the type of generator he'd encountered several times before.

Aiden instantly recognized the glyph that would activate the relic, but upon touching it, found it was just as dead as the rest of this place. Whatever power had been used to operate this entire edifice had long since vanished.

"We've found little else of interest back there," Criosa called as she and Sayana entered the chamber. "Oh my... this is more like it," she added in awe upon viewing the vast chamber. Next to her, the sorceress began to glow faintly, much as she did in the presence of the baron's cursed amulet.

"Not again," she muttered. "I'm going to wait out in the hall."

"Probably a good idea," Aiden nodded, glancing at the glowing crack in the floor. "This light probably has the same properties as the amulet."

"That might explain why the water here is contaminated," Criosa suggested, but was interrupted by Nellise from across the room.

"Come and look at this, we've found something interesting," she called, prompting them all to hurry over and see what she had found. Nellise and Pacian were standing before one of the alcoves, which appeared to be completely empty. As he drew closer, Aiden could see why — the floor in the alcove had crumbled away, revealing a rocky chasm leading straight down, far beyond the range of their lights.

"That's quite a drop," Nellise remarked, her hair tousled by the mournful wind that blew from below. She then pointed at some language on the wall next to her. "Do these seem at all familiar?" Aiden took a closer look and felt his chest tighten as he recognized the symbol of the Ironlord in amongst the words. As he glanced around the alcove, the symbol took on greater meaning, and his quick mind put it all together.

"It was here," he exclaimed in sudden understanding. "This is where the Ironlord was resting, long ago."

"How can you know that?" Pacian said.

"I've seen it up close all too often, thanks to the dreams I shared with Salinder," Aiden explained. "It would fit inside this alcove perfectly, and some of this iconography suggests this is where it would regenerate when it was not out obliterating cities. In essence, this is the Ironlord's throne room."

Nobody spoke as the implications of that statement sank in, and his companions looked around at the chamber in a new light. Spurred on by this discovery, Aiden held his sword forward, illuminating the alcove as best as he could manage. If there was anything further to learn on these walls, he couldn't tell. If the place still had power, they might be able to find out more, but where was he going to find more power?

"Damn, I'm an idiot sometimes," Aiden muttered to himself as he pulled out the small box containing the amulet. He rushed back over to the central relic and started feeling around for some sort of hatch. A few moments later, he was rewarded as part of the side flipped open, revealing an identical amulet set into a small mounting of the same dimensions. The amulet within didn't glow at all in Aiden's sight, hardly surprising since the control appeared to be inactive.

He carefully took out the old amulet and placed his own inside it, then closed the hatch. Returning to the front of the device, he saw a faint red glow from one of the glyphs and touched it with his hand. The entire chamber was suddenly lit in a cold white light, forcing Aiden to cover his eyes momentarily at the sudden brilliance.

"You might have warned us," Pacian called from nearby as the rest of his companions adjusted to the harsh light.

"Sorry, I wasn't expecting that," Aiden apologized absently, absorbed by the glowing glyphs on the cold metal surface before him. Although he was pleased with the result, it would take more time to translate the full meaning of these symbols, time he was unwilling to spend. He hurried back over to the alcove, hopeful that something more interesting had occurred and was thrilled to see a small panel had opened at the back of the space.

"We need to see what's in there," he said to nobody in particular. Twenty feet of empty space separated them from the rear of the alcove, with the yawning abyss below.

Stand aside, Spartan ordered as he walked over to the alcove. The others made room for the dragon as he stood at the edge of the abyss and extended his long serpentine neck, his snout just reaching the opposite wall.

Spartan nudged the small door open further and peered inside with one eye. He then shoved his mouth into the space and wrapped his jaws around something. When his head emerged, he held a large, circular piece of metal and very slowly retracted his neck until it was safely above the solid floor, then placed it at his feet.

"What is that, a shield?" Robert asked nobody in particular, picking up the metal disk and inspecting it closely. It did indeed appear to be a shield, three feet across and with a strap fashioned from some strange material in the back side. Robert grasped it and held it like any other shield, clearly impressed with its balance. The surface was inscribed with the Ironlord's sigil, and it occurred to Aiden who the shield belonged to.

"That's its shield," he stated as Spartan craned his neck forward to take another look in the aperture. "It seems to be made entirely of auldsteel. It's probably worth more than all the gold in Aielund's treasury."

"That's not saying much at the moment," Criosa muttered under her breath.

"It's light, for its size," Robert commented. "I wonder why it was left behind? Never mind — its loss is my gain."

"Is there anything more in there, Spartan?" Criosa called as the dragon once more shoved his nose into the aperture. This time, he withdrew a four-foot staff in his jaws. When he deposited it in Aiden's outstretched hands, he stared at the staff for a long moment in triumph, and then fumbled around in his pack for the head piece they had secured from Sahar in Trinity. With trembling hands, he took the staff from Spartan's maw and put the two together.

Nothing happened. They didn't even fit together all that well.

"Am I missing something?" Aiden muttered in exasperation as his companions looked on in anticipation. "Was there anything else in there?"

The aperture is now empty, Spartan replied. Aiden thought about this for a moment, then headed back over to the generator to retrieve the amulet. The lights in the room went out again when he withdrew it, but even with all three pieces of the staff, none of them really seemed to hold together.

"We're definitely missing something," Aiden surmised.

"I don't think we should stay here any longer," Nellise warned.

"Alright, we have what we came for, so let's get out of here," Criosa ordered. "We'll consult Sahar, and possibly Terinus to figure out the rest. We make for that stairwell and see if we can clear our way out. Aiden and Spartan have the strength to get it done, while the rest of us fetch the horses."

"Hooray, more work," Pacian groaned as the rest of them struggled to their feet and slowly made their way out of the chamber.

It wasn't long before they had reached the stairway once more, guarded in silent vigil by the remains of three former explorers. Although Aiden was tired from the long day, he stripped down to his ragged trousers and activated his gauntlet, easily tossing aside the rocks blocking their way. He could only manage a few minutes at a time before the gauntlet overheated and he had to let it cool, so Spartan lent his strength to the task while Aiden rested the device.

He lost track of time as he worked to open the underground complex, and when he finally felt a whisper of fresh air coming through the cracks, he felt a surge of energy and redoubled his efforts. Criosa and the others arrived with their very nervous horses, just as Aiden was tossing aside the last of the heavy rocks.

They all breathed deeply of the fresh cold air, and Aiden noted it was now long after sunset. The entrance seemed to open into a short passage, at the end of which he could see the star-filled night sky of the Hocarum Desert. But there was something at the edge of his hearing that gave him cause for concern as he pushed aside the final rocks.

"What is that sound?" he asked absently. It was a low, constant droning sound he'd never heard before. "It's like a swarm of a million bees."

That is a distant sandstorm, Spartan replied gravely. They sweep through this region of the world and plunge entire regions of the wasteland into stinging darkness for days on end.

"I heard there was one west of Trinity when I was making enquiries about the war," Robert added. "If it gets to Trinity before we do, we'll never get to Highmarch before the Ironlord does."

"We cannot rest," Criosa stated with waning determination. "We have to reach the fort as soon as possible."

"You have got to be kidding," Pacian groaned quietly. "I can barely stand, let along ride back to town."

"I have something that will keep us on our feet," Nellise offered, reaching into one of her pouches.

"Not the Kahve again," Aiden sighed, recalling the awful after-effects of the potent herb. Nellise nodded in understand, but continued searching through her bag without finding what she was looking for.

"I had a good supply of it," she murmured. "I don't understand where it all went."

"Maybe you lost it when the dragon stepped on you?" Robert suggested.

"The rest of my equipment is still intact... wait, here's the satchel I kept it in — it's empty." Aiden leaned over and saw this to be true as she turned it inside out. "This is so strange, it's almost like someone has been stealing it. Perhaps some thief in Trinity took it?"

"No, I don't think so," Pacian sighed, nervously rubbing his scalp. "I have something to confess... I took it."

"Well, hand it over," Nellise insisted irritably.

"I can't, there's none left," Pacian muttered, drawing a disbelieving look from his lover.

"Are you telling me," she asked with in a measured voice, "you have been taking Kahve on a regular basis without my knowledge?" Pacian nodded lamely in response. "Pacian, there was enough there to cover our needs five times over. You had all of it?"

"I've been having trouble keeping up with you, so I started taking a little to keep me on my feet," Pacian explained hastily to the growing ire of his companions. "I found the best cure to Kahve withdraw is more Kahve."

"You fool!" Nellise yelled, shocking them all with her sudden anger. "You're lucky your heart is still beating! You could have taken too much and simply fallen over dead, but worst of all, you've lied to me!" Pacian was silent in the face of her fury, guilt and shame etched upon his haggard features.

"I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry," he sobbed, reaching out to touch her arm only to have her snatch it out of his reach. He fell to his knees and Nellise began to cool down a little, but the simmering anger remained in her golden eyes.

"No wonder you collapsed downstairs, not to mention your general state of misery lately. First alcohol, now Kahve... Pacian, you're falling apart at the seams, and there's nothing I can do if you won't let me help you."

"Enough," Robert barked gruffly. "We don't have time for you two to sort things out. We have a long journey back to Trinity and we have to leave right now. If Pacian can't keep up, I suggest we leave him behind." There was no dispute from the others, which made Pacian seem all the more miserable.

I shall rest here overnight and catch up to you as you travel for the fort, Spartan informed them. Pacian will rest here with me, and I shall bring him along with me tomorrow.

"Fair enough," Robert nodded. "Don't feel too upset if you accidentally drop him, by the way. I'm sure we'll get over it."

Pacian said nothing as the others turned away and set out into the desert. Sayana stared at the sky for a few moments to get her bearings, and then they started their ride towards Trinity with the ominous howl of the sandstorm lending strength to their steps.

* * *

The red sands of the Hocarum desert stretched on before them. Aiden's horse trudged onwards through the hot sun, bent forwards against the dry wind blasting the fine sands into his face. The shirt wrapped around his head provided a modicum of relief, but the rest of his body wasn't so lucky.

Aiden lost track of the others as he focused on moving onward, until he crested a rise and saw the towering figure of Salinder sitting on his haunches amongst the sands. The dragon teetered slightly in the strong winds, his wings tattered and frayed against the side of his enormous serpentine body.

Even as Aiden approached, he could see the sands slowly dissolving the dragon's body, which almost seemed to be made out of sand itself.

"I thought you were gone," Aiden called to his draconic ally in relief.

My time fast approaches, Salinder whispered back, his words slurred and uneven. I conserve my strength for the confrontation. When the battle is joined, call my name and I shall unleash what remains of my strength. When this occurs, know that I will be gone forever after.

"We found something in the desert, a weapon of some kind," Aiden said over the increasing roar of the winds. "A staff, with a powerful gemstone in the headpiece. It's connected to the Ironlord, but I don't know how, exactly."

I have no memory of such a device... or of anything else, for that matter, save for one fact. Salinder turned his dissolving head to the right and looked out over the sands. Aiden was suddenly flying high above a verdant plain, with clouds streaming past. Far below, a city smoldered and burned with hundreds of fires raging through the streets. Thousands of people ran before him in terror, as he swooped in low to bathe more of the city in dragonfire.

To his right, another dragon flew — Leviachon, younger and free of scars, but no less terrifying. Aiden exulted at the sight of his ally setting people aflame and toppling tall buildings with a swipe of his tail.

Time shifted forward suddenly, and Aiden could see human knights mounted on powerful steeds storming into an ancient ruin in the mountains, heading straight for a clutch of tiny dragon hatchlings no more than two feet long. The leader of the humans, a fearless warrior and king, slew all but one of the small creatures and held the last up into the air, demanding Aiden's service in exchange for the life of the last hatchling.

Devastated at the loss of his family, he agreed and gave his word. He is ordered to spend the next year defending Aielund from his brethren, and during this time he learned more about the ways of humanity. Aiden felt a strange new emotion previously unknown to him — remorse. His merciless slaughter of humanity during his long years was wrong, for they felt the loss of their sons and daughters in the same manner that he felt the loss of his hatchlings and mate, years ago.

The scene flashed forward again, and Aiden attempted to explain this revelation to Leviachon. The two dragons came to blows, and the red dragon is seriously wounded yet allowed to go free, for Aiden no longer wishes to kill. The stain of his past actions, slaying countless lives over many years weighed heavily on him, and it is when the king asks one final service of him that he realized the only way to atone for his sins is through sacrifice.

Aiden suddenly staggered backwards as he found himself on horseback, standing upon the shifting sands of the desert once more. He had experienced the vision it as if he were Salinder, a true memory the dragon had been preserving against the entropy of his fading existence. Aiden was momentarily speechless in the face of such bloodshed.

"You should know that I'm grateful for everything you've sacrificed to keep the Ironlord at bay," he said mournfully, "but the scope of what I just saw... I'm not even sure a century of service could make up for that."

I was a monster, Salinder explained simply. I wanted you to know that before the end. The winds picked up and the dragon effigy recoiled from the blast as more of his body dissolved. Remember me, Salinder whispered as the sand evaporated him completely.

Chapter Eighteen

Aiden awoke to the feeling of a deep cold penetrating his body. His face was partially buried by sand, so he picked himself up and spat it on the ground. The vision of Salinder was gone, and only then did he realize it had been a dream. The darkness of night still cloaked the desert, lit only by the moon and the stars above. The distant roar of the sandstorm was louder now, and reminded Aiden of the urgency of their journey.

Exhausted, they had stopped for a short rest after hours of travelling through the night. Aiden had been unable to keep his eyes open, and judging by the others lying around nearby, neither had they. Haunted by the dream message from his dying ally, Aiden used the staff they'd found in the ancient tunnels to struggle back on his feet and woke everyone, spurring them on for the final push to Trinity.
Criosa was twisting and turning in her sleep, cringing from something only she could see. The princess let out a short scream when she finally awoke, and glanced at her surroundings while catching her breath. If anything, she seemed more tired now than before she rested, and the weary expression on her face was heartbreaking. But they simply didn't have time to recuperate.

The shifting sands hampered their progress through the desert until they finally reached the highway south of Trinity. Although the ground was dry and cracked, it was also firm and hard, allowing them to ride at a canter towards town. As the pre-dawn light began to lighten the sky, the ominous pall of darkness to the west became obvious.

"It has to be a hundred miles across," Aiden breathed in fear.

"We're nearly there," Robert grunted, pushing him on the shoulder to keep him moving. "It looks like the northern edge of the storm will hit Trinity within the hour, but we should be clear of it as we head back to Aielund."

When they were finally within sight of Trinity's south wall, the sand was being whipped up by the increasing winds and their visibility was slowly reduced. The guards had abandoned their post at the south gate to seek shelter, and Aiden couldn't see any signs of life on the dusty streets when they entered.

Stung by the sands and buffeted by winds of ever-increasing strength, he despaired they would have to continue onwards without rest to escape the deadly storm. First, he needed to speak with Sahar, in case she knew something about how the staff was put together.

Aiden gestured for the others to follow him to her abode, and proceeded to lean into the wind as they rode through the empty streets. Most of the houses were built of the same red stone, so locating a specific address proved to be difficult in the deteriorating conditions. Aiden eventually stumbled upon a familiar place and came to a halt under the meagre shelter of Sahar's veranda, where they all but collapsed against the wall.

"We can't stay here!" Robert yelled over the howling winds. "This isn't even the worst of the storm, not by a long shot."

"Sahar might know more about the staff, we have to speak with her!" Aiden called back, receiving a mouthful of sand in the process. He hammered on her door with his armoured fist and awaited a response. A long moment later the door cracked open slightly.

"This is a bad time, come back later," she called through the gap, her voice tight. Aiden was about to reply when he noticed Sahar's eyes looking at him strangely, almost as if she was afraid. He assumed it was to do with the sandstorm, but then she glanced at something over his shoulder for just a moment, and he knew something else was wrong.

Robert was suddenly thrown against the wall of her house by a big armoured man, with one of his hands clenched around the mercenary's throat. Aiden was startled by the sudden assault and the women backed towards the doorway as half a dozen more armoured men closed in around them, three of whom carried powerful crossbows now levelled at Sayana. The one holding Robert opened the visor on his helm and revealed a familiar face, fixed in a gloating sneer.

"Thought you could sneak back into town under cover of the storm eh?" the mercenary Robert had referred to as Brian growled. The door to the house opened further and Sahar was escorted outside by another heavily armed man.

"I'm so sorry," she apologised as the mercenary thug shoved her along.

"You couldn't have picked a worse time," Robert growled. "We can talk about this later, man to man, once the storm has died down."

"Not good enough this time, Black," Brian snarled, giving him a solid punch in his gut for his trouble. Robert doubled over and was allowed to collapse to the ground as he struggled for breath. "I want what's mine, you shifty bastard. You and your friends have a lot of expensive gear — I'll take my payment from them, if you don't mind. And if your pretty little witch even lifts a finger, my boys will shoot her."

"I didn't appreciate your meddling in my affairs, girl," he continued, turning to Sayana with greedy eyes. "I could have let it slide, but putting me on the roof like that really hurt, so I'm going to get my payment from you, personally. Play nice and you'll live." He suddenly pulled out a dagger held it up against her throat, and began tearing off her tattered clothes with his other hand to reveal the finely-crafted and expensive elven chain mail underneath.

"You lot sure are ugly, but not half as ugly as you're going to be in about ten seconds," Robert managed to growl as he struggled for breath. Brian sneered back at him, as if daring Robert to try something while protected by his comrades. Aiden was momentarily puzzled at the empty threat until he saw the shadow of something massive moving through the swirling sands behind the mercenaries.

A metal fist the size of a melon suddenly appeared where one of the crossbowman's head had been a moment before, showering his comrades in blood and shattered bone. The body slumped to the ground, and Sahar screamed as a huge golem stepped into view, swinging its arms with devastating power as it killed the other two crossbowmen. One of them managed to shoot at his metal foe, though the bolt simply bounced off its impenetrable hide.

Aiden's eyes widened as he realized it was one of the constructs similar to those they had discovered under the desert sands, and he couldn't figure out what it was doing here until he heard the distinctive sounds of houses being destroyed nearby and the heavy metal feet stomping through the streets.

The Iron Legion had arrived with the storm.

Nellise tore herself free of her stunned captors as they were turned into bloody corpses a moment later, when another of the towering constructs appeared out of the stinging sands. The remaining mercenaries, unfamiliar with the true nature of their opponents, snapped out of their stupor and drew their weapons, charging to avenge the deaths of their comrades.

Sayana saw her opportunity to act and invoked a burst of fire. Brian raised his hands to shield himself from the flames and Sayana pushed herself away, diving to the ground as Robert charged at Brian with a bloodthirsty roar, falling to the ground where Robert knocked him unconscious with a single blow to his head.

"Get them out of here, now!" Aiden instructed Criosa, who grabbed Sahar by the wrist, pulling her clear of the fight. Nellise hurried over and did the same with the Sayana. Their horses had run screaming into the storm, both from the smell of blood and the burst of flames, forcing Aiden the the others to run on foot.

"Don't fight, just run," Robert yelled over the cacophony of Trinity being reduced to rubble as the heel of the Iron Legion came down upon it. The two men raced through streets that were no longer empty, threading their way through hordes of screaming civilians, who ran in terror from the metal army that had appeared out of nowhere.

Aiden and Robert caught up with the Criosa and the other women as they ran through the throng, heading towards the north gate with their strength flagging. The soldiers of Trinity rushed past, finally engaging the enemy in a brave but futile effort to protect the dying town. Robert hesitated a moment as more men rushed past, and he grabbed one of the officers by the arm and brought him up short. His fury was evident on his swarthy face, but it didn't deter Robert in the slightest.

"You have to get everyone out of here," he exclaimed to the man's face. "Don't even try to fight those things, you don't stand a chance!"

"I will not abandon my post and leave this place undefended," the officer roared back. "I am no coward!"

"If you want to beat these things, get your people to Highmarch — that's where we make our stand. If you try to fight them here, you're just going to throw their lives away."

"If we leave, Trinity is doomed," the officer declared.

"Trinity is already dead," Robert roared. "Now do your duty and save these people!" He didn't wait for an answer, leaving the man to make his decision on his own.

An odd sound cut through the din, like nothing Aiden had ever heard before. It was almost like a cross between a boiling kettle and an avalanche, and when he turned to find the source, he froze in place as he saw the monster from his nightmares made manifest.

Seven constructs of the Iron Legion were moving through the town, scattering terrified civilians and with the unyielding might of their metal fists, crushing the soldiers. Behind these was another construct Aiden was all too familiar with.

It was shorter than the others, but no less massive in its own way, styled in the caricature of an ancient gladiator from a lost empire. The Ironlord strode through the carnage oblivious to the plight of its population, observing the methodical destruction of the town with cold disdain. In one hand it held a sword the size of a man, its edge ringed with a thin line of arcane light.

Four of Trinity's defenders broke through their ranks and ran straight at the Ironlord, swinging a variety of weapons at its rust-coloured hide with no apparent effect. The construct's sword swept in a vicious arc, cutting through iron and flesh with ease and leaving the smouldering husks of broken bodies bleeding on the ground.

Aiden was transfixed, unable to move or look away as the Ironlord stomped closer and closer. It paused in the shadow of one of Trinity's larger buildings, raised its empty hand, palm forward, and unleashed a beam of light as bright as the sun. The light turned the ancient red stone into bubbling lava.

Then, it looked at him. It had no real face and its expression did not change, but Aiden knew instantly that it recognized him. It started moving again, straight towards him with surprising speed and an apparent single-minded determination.

Before it could close upon him, a horde of mounted warriors thundered past, blocking his view as they engaged the constructs with warhammers that rang with a hollow 'boom' with each hit.

Aiden snapped out of his trance and stumble backward as more cavalry appeared through the storm of fire and sand. He recognized the heraldic device of Aielund on the banners of the brave horsemen.

"It's the Aielish army," Aiden exclaimed as he huddled with his beleaguered companions amongst the chaos. Criosa cried out in adulation at the arrival of her father's army, and she waved both arms frantically to try and gain their attention. Three heavily armoured horsemen broke off from the fight and rode over to them.

The knight brought his horse to a standstill and for a long moment looked down impassively at the princess through his iron helm. He raised the visor and revealed a square-jawed man of middling years sporting an unkempt red beard. He stared down at Criosa in disbelief, and when he spoke Aiden recognized him as Seamus Roebec, King of Aielund and Criosa's father.

"Criosa? What in blazes are you doing here?" he thundered as the battle raged on around them. "Don't bother answering, we don't have time." With that, he reached down, plucked her from the ground and threw the surprised woman her over his saddle. "Bring these people any horses we can spare," he instructed one of his companions. "We make for Highmarch, now!"

"Yes, sire," a knight replied in a voice made hollow by his helm. Within moments, two warhorses were led over to their position and offered to Aiden and his companions. They would have to ride two per horse, but given their size, the mighty horses would have no trouble carrying the burden.

Robert lifted Sayana onto the saddle and then climbed up to join her, while Aiden and Nellise clambered on to the other giant horse. She was clearly shaken from the experience, so Aiden handed her the precious staff and took the reins as the king led his army in a withdrawal through the winding streets of Trinity, towards the north gate.

The wind was unrelenting for the first hour, sending the biting sands of Hocarum high into the air as the sandstorm bore down on Trinity. It was all Aiden could do to keep pace with the others during this time, as the adrenaline rush from the chaotic battle began to ebb and fatigue set in from the long journey.

Eventually the winds began to ease as they cleared the path of the storm, and looking back, Aiden could see nothing but the dark, angry skies blotting out everything behind them. He could also see the 'army' consisted of perhaps two dozen mounted soldiers, some of whom were clearly wounded. At the front of the column rode the king himself, with Criosa sitting on the front of his saddle.

Beside them was a familiar figure in black robes, riding upon a roan charger — Terinus, the king's wizard.

They continued past the rocky terrain and red soil as the small army cantered on, slowing to a walk every now and then to preserve their mounts, but Aiden knew they were pushing them to the limits of their endurance.

During one of these brief respites, one of the others riders handed him a pouch containing some trail rations, and while the dried meat was tough and bland, it was filling and restored some of his vigour. Nellise nibbled some herself, but didn't seem to have much of an appetite.

"Are you going to be okay?" Aiden asked out of concern.

"I'm just a little shaken, that's all," she replied quietly. "The further we travel from civilization, the more likely it is to run into people such as Brian," she clarified. "There's something about men knowing there's little or no authority to keep them in check, that makes some of them go a little insane. If the Iron Loegion didn't show up right then and there, who knows what would have happened to us."

"Seems that way," Aiden muttered, unable to dispute her point. The casual walk was over all too soon and they were off at a canter once more as the Highmarch Mountains loomed before them. The sun was beginning to dip towards the western horizon when they reached the escarpment, passing the site where Aiden and his companions had made camp several nights ago. The dangerous cliff soared above them, a natural bulwark against the ravages of the desert, and serving as a deterrent to those who sought to escape the desolation of the south.

The company formed a single line and began walking along the narrow road that wound its way up the side of the cliff. Aiden groaned inwardly as he realised there would be no rest until they had climbed the escarpment.

He lowered himself to the ground and walked the tired horse for a time, for the poor beast had run for most of the day after having fought for god knows how long before that. Looking around at the faces of the king's soldiers, he could see fatigue, loss and despair.

As the column slowly navigated the escarpment, Aiden looked to the south where he could make out pillars of black smoke billowing into the sky, mixed with the red sands of the desert. Trinity had most likely been destroyed, but he was pleased to see a line of survivors traveling along the road, just clear of the sandstorm and making for the escarpment. Of the Iron Legion, there was no sign, but it could only be a matter of time until the ancient war machines emerged from the destruction and made their way towards Highmarch.

The tired party trudged onwards, knowing the relative safety of the top of the cliff wasn't far away. It was just before sunset they finally reached the end of the ascent. Soldiers who had made the climb without complaint almost fell from their mounts, and it was then Aiden noticed that almost all of them were wounded.

Nellise noticed this too, and after having rested on the back of the horse for the entire climb, she dismounted and moved amongst the wounded, providing care for those in need. Aiden left her to it and made his way over to see Criosa, noticing the king had slumped to the ground as well.

"Are you alright, Majesty?" Aiden asked as he approached. The king glanced up at him, pulling off his helm and tossing it aside as he appraised the young man crouching next to him.

"Forgive me, but I do not recall your name," he croaked in a voice heavy with fatigue.

"Sir Aiden Wainwright," he replied as Criosa sat beside him, pale and wan. She took his hand in hers, eliciting a raised eyebrow from her father at the rather obvious statement of her affection.

"I am well enough, considering," King Seamus finally answered, running a hand through his hair. "We should be safe enough here, allowing us a chance to rest before the final push to Highmarch tomorrow."

"I wanted to thank you for rescuing us," Aiden said. "If you hadn't arrived, those damned constructs would have killed us all."

"Our arrival was no coincidence, Sir Aiden," the familiar rasping voice of Terinus stated as the wizard appeared from behind them, appearing just as he had inside the fort days before. "Trinity is of little value to anyone, save those who live there. Do you not find it strange the Ironlord decided to assault a town of such minor significance?"

"I hadn't given it much thought," Aiden answered dryly. "I've been busy riding for my life, as have you."

"We needed to buy Highmarch time, and for our forces to withdraw back to the fort," the king explained tiredly. "The cursed things never sleep, never tire. They don't stop until their target is destroyed, so to survive, I had to make a hard choice."

"You led them to Trinity," Criosa whispered in disbelief. "You sacrificed that entire town so you could escape."

"They perished to serve the greater good, Highness," Terinus pointed out somewhat callously. "The Iron Legion would be right behind us, hounding our every move until we toppled over from exhaustion, were it not for His Majesty's decision."

"I haven't slept in three nights," Seamus rumbled. "We've been at each other's throats for so long now, it's all a blur. So many casualties..."

"You should rest while you can, sire," Terinus softly advised from the obscure depths of his hood. "Further questions can wait until the morning."

The king's head slumped against his chest and he was asleep within moments. Criosa sat looking at her father, a mixture of a daughter's love and a princess's disappointment upon her fine features. Seamus was beloved by his subjects, but if they heard about this atrocity, they might be far less accepting of his decisions.

Chapter Nineteen

The hustle of the busy camp woke Aiden just after dawn, his eyes sandy and his body aching from the punishing journey. Around him, horses were being saddled and campfires extinguished as weary cavalrymen prepared to move out once more.

Dozens of newcomers had doubled the size of the camp overnight; the beleaguered survivors of Trinity. Seeking to flee the war, they seemed unaware that by joining the Aielish forces, they were headed directly for the fulcrum of the conflict.

"The enemy is ascending the escarpment!" cried one of the men positioned near the edge of the precipice. "They are mere minutes away."

"Relentless," King Seamus muttered as he was assisted back into his armour, an island of calm amidst the sea of activity. He was a towering figure of a man, barrel-chested and solidly built. The black-enamelled surface of his armour showed signs of being damaged and repaired, over and over again until the golden dragon emblazoned on his breastplate was barely recognizable.

Men, women and children, along with many of Trinity's soldiers picked up what little possessions they had brought along and immediately started heading north, unwilling to wait for their metal foes to reach the camp.

Aiden helped Criosa with her equipment, as she and their other companions prepared to move out. Criosa was subdued and appeared to have missed another night of sleep. Aiden knew she was still plagued by nightmares, but he couldn't spare a moment to console her now.

"Majesty, I have recovered enough to teleport us directly to the fort," Terinus advised the king in his rasping voice. The wizard was a disconcerting sight as always, for nothing was visible underneath the darkness of his hood, save for his chin and mouth.

"I don't want to leave my men," the king replied firmly, testing the straps on his armour.

"Sir Nigel is more than capable of leading the army to the fort," the wizard counselled, leaning heavily on his tall staff. "There is no further need to risk yourself on their behalf. I urge you to return to the fort and rest more before the battle is upon us. If nothing else, think of the safety of your daughter."

"Very well," Seamus reluctantly agreed. "Sir Nigel knows what is required of him?"

"I have already made the arrangements," Terinus assured him with a slight bow.

"Why am I not surprised," Seamus rumbled. Aiden, sensing an opportunity, stepped forward with Criosa in tow.

"I'd like to request my companions and I accompany you," he asked of the wizard, who stared back at him.

"Sir Aiden, we meet again," he remarked. "I have already spoken with Sahar, who mentioned your excursion into the desert. I am eager to discuss your findings, but I see little reason to bring along others when such numbers would further tax my strength. I..." his voice trailed off as he caught sight of Sayana, her tattoos starkly visible on her exposed skin.

"It's impolite to stare at a lady, mate," Robert offered in a friendly voice edged with a subtle warning. He'd been given a spare breastplate the army carried, and he looked every bit the soldier once more as his piercing blue eye settled on Terinus. Sayana, ordinarily self-conscious of her tattoos, straightened and stood proudly, defiantly gazing at the black wizard.

"If you have something to say, just say it," she dared him. His response was not exactly what they had expected, however.

"We need to move you all out of here immediately," the wizard suddenly declared. "Gather around, and I shall transport us to the fort." Aiden exchanged a confused glance with Sayana, but kept silent as he linked hands with the others. Terinus stood at the centre of the circle and after speaking an incantation for nearly a minute, the sight of the departing cavalry was replaced with a brief, purple sensation and a jarring sense of being thrown in two directions simultaneously.

As quickly as it began, the brief transit ended, and Aiden recognized the surrounding confines of the small library at Highmarch where he had first met Terinus.

"My word, that was unsettling," Sahar breathed as she reeled from the effects of the incantation.

"I'll never get used to that," Robert added, rubbing his forehead thoughtfully. The black-robed wizard staggered to one side and leaned heavily on his staff to avoid falling. The king grabbed him by the shoulders and looked at him with concern.

"You accuse me of pushing myself too hard, when you can barely stand yourself, old friend," he said reproachfully. "Why did you bring along all of these people as well?"

"My motivations will become apparent in due course," Terinus whispered as the familiar bearded face of Desmond appeared around the corner of the doorway.

"Your Majesty," he offered in a low bow to cover his surprise. "I had not anticipated your return quite so soon."

"Time waits for no man, Dean Foster," Seamus responded, straightening himself up to cover his fatigue. "Is Lord Alastair decent?"

"The baron is indisposed at this time, Your Majesty," another man answered as he entered the library. Aiden recognized him as Sir Leonard, whom Criosa had placed in command when the baron had been overcome with grief.

"He is well, I trust?" the king asked warily.

"There are many things we need to speak of, sire. If you would come this way, I will bring you up to date on our current situation."

"As you wish," Seamus answered cautiously. "Come along Criosa, I want to hear more of your story, too."

"Yes, father," she replied, giving Aiden a quick look as she scurried along after the thumping armoured steps of the king.

"We're going to track down some fresh clothing," Nellise mumbled, hugging herself to ward off the sudden chill of the mountain fortress. Sayana accompanied her out the door, glancing at Terinus with a mixture of curiosity and wariness. Robert followed directly behind with a similar look at the wizard, while Aiden took out the staff, its headpiece and the lead box containing the amulet.

"We've found something of importance that might be useable against the Ironlord," Aiden said to the two wizards.

"What, so now you don't even have a greeting for your tutor?" the old wizard blustered.

"I'm... sorry, Dean Foster," Aiden stammered. "It's good to see you again."

"We don't have time for chit-chat man, show us this damnable relic you've found."

"Er, right, of course," Aiden replied hesitantly. "Sahar and I have determined these pieces fit together in some fashion. I might be able to figure it out with time, but I thought I'd run it past you."

"Wait, didn't your little box explain how to assemble it?" Sahar interjected.

"The translation is more challenging than usual," Aiden admitted. "What little direction I could understand, I followed. I'm not even close to figuring it out. Maybe I'm just too tired. It's been a rough week," he added as he recalled the incredible sights — and dangers — of his journey.

"We'll take a look at it," Desmond offered absently. "We could really use your insights though, lad. How about we get you a nice hot meal, and you can sit down next to the fire?" Without waiting for a reply, he called over a servant and ordered a platter of food. Resigned to his task, Aiden took off his breastplate for the first time in days and settled into a comfortable chair.

After the food arrived, Aiden ate his fill, and then took out the Lexicon and began a careful study of the information concerning the staff. At a small table nearby, the sage and the two wizards conducted their own examination, drawing upon their combined knowledge of the arcane arts to find any clues as to its function.

Aiden lost track of time as he delved deeply into the mysteries within the glowing pages. His weeks of study of this ancient language had proven useful time and again, but the detailed explanation of the staff seemed to be written back to front and upside down. He was constantly forced to reference the language section, as well as his own notes to unravel meaning from the Lexicon.

When he took a moment to stretch his muscles and yawn, he noticed Terinus sitting across the room, looking in his direction.

"A curious device you have there," he remarked, gesturing at the worn little magic box with a gloved hand. "You seem to be full of surprises, Sir Aiden."

"Not as many as I'd like," he replied. "I haven't been able to decipher the purpose of the staff yet. Have you had any luck?"

"Our work has nothing to do with luck," Desmond remonstrated absently as he scrutinized the headpiece. "But as to the meaning of your question, I think it's safe to assume that the headpiece has been damaged."

"We haven't agreed on this point," Terinus rasped.

"I can find no other reason why it won't fit," Desmond insisted in exasperation. "Was it damaged when you found it, Sahar?"

"It is now as it has always been, while in my care," she answered. "I can't speak as to whether or not it's damaged, given that we have no other example to compare it to."

"We have not yet attempted to fit the gemstone to the centre of the headpiece," Terinus pressed.

"Wait, I have an idea," Aiden interrupted as the conversation started to take a turn for the worse. He picked up the Lexicon and hurried over to the table, then turned it to the page where a diagram of the staff was displayed. He reached over and picked up the headpiece and held it close to the image, and felt a sinking feeling in his stomach as his fears were confirmed.

"They look different," Aiden explained sombrely. "The neck where it connects to the top of the staff is bent out of shape."

"The headpiece is made from auldsteel," Terinus remarked gravely. "It would take considerable force to bend, and more than a blacksmith's hammer to repair."

"So... what do we do?" Aiden asked, receiving silence from those around the table.

"We still aren't entirely certain what the connection to the Ironlord is," Desmond remarked. "I'm not certain it's worth wasting further time upon, given the situation."

"The situation is that monster is on its way here and nothing anyone has ever thrown against it has stopped the damned thing," Aiden reminded him gravely.

"I do not believe this to be a weapon," Terinus interjected. "The Ironlord is already sufficiently armed, and a staff makes no sense. Furthermore, its shape suggests that it was not designed to be held by the Ironlord, but by individuals of roughly human size."

"... Its creators?" Sahar suggested.

"Its controllers," Terinus affirmed. On a hunch, Aiden peered closely at the staff, taking note of the runes he saw etched upon its surface. Then he searched through the Lexicon's pages for those symbols, and finally located them in a reference section. The meaning was not entirely clear, but one of the words did stick out from the rest.

"That series of runes roughly translates to the verb of 'order'," he said. "Whatever the rest of them do, it seems to me it's the last rune to be lit in any sequence. It must be to command the Ironlord in some fashion."

"I have heard enough," Terinus declared, picking up the artifacts. "I will teleport to the University in Fairloch and see what can be done to repair this relic."

"You have taxed yourself enough already," Desmond reminded him. "I shall take us both there, that I might assist you in your efforts."

"If it isn't too much to ask, I would like to accompany you further," Sahar added.

"Of course, my dear, your input would be most welcome."

"Very well, inform His Majesty of our task, Sir Aiden," Terinus rasped. "It is my hope that we can return before the setting of the sun."

"Do be careful, my boy," Desmond added. "Try not to get yourself killed before our return." The three gathered together and the old wizard spoke the incantation to return them to Fairloch. Before Aiden knew it, they were gone in a rush of air, leaving him standing by himself.

Raised voices could be heard as he made his way to the lord's chamber. It was Criosa engaged in a heated discussion with her father, and Aiden was fairly certain it would be poor form on his part to walk in on a family meeting. While he stood mulling over his options, the clanking of Robert's armour could be heard ascending the nearby stairs.

"There you are," the mercenary said as he spied Aiden in the hallway. "There's something out here you've got to see."

Curious, Aiden hurried after the mercenary and met up with Sayana downstairs. She was now wearing a new set of simple but warm clothing. Together, they headed out the northern entrance to the keep and straight on towards the gate through the freezing mountain air.

Captain Marshald waved them over as they approached, and moments later Aiden found himself at the northern gate of the fort. Nellise was already there, properly attired in a warm robe in addition to the remainder of her plate armour. The look on her face was one of wonder, and Aiden thought he saw a tear falling trickle down her cheek.

The gate itself was open, but half a dozen guards held their pikes across the entrance, barring passage to a column of rough-looking people dressed in heavy furs lined outside on the frozen road.

"Morik?" Aiden breathed as he laid eyes on the Akoran chief. His appearance at the fort was a surprise, but it was the people behind him that astonished Aiden, for queued up outside the gates were several hundred Akoran women, standing tall and proud behind their Chief.

"Aiden, it is good to see you once more, my friend," Morik called to him upon spotting him.

"I hadn't expected to see you here, let alone with an army of women," Aiden answered as he moved closer.

"Before your recent visit to my homeland, neither would I," Morik remarked. "We have come to make amends for past wrongs, and to stand with you in your darkest hour."

"Let them through," Aiden advised the captain, who nodded to his men to stand aside. Morik hefted a great axe over his shoulder and led the women of Akora through the gate.

"They remind me of Valennia," Nellise said wistfully. "Remember her strength? Imagine and army of her."

"We don't have to, it's right in front of us," Aiden replied with a smile. The Akorans carried an assortment of heavy weapons on their backs, and the glint of armour was visible underneath the animal skins. More obvious than this, was the glint of proud resolve in their eyes, something Aiden and his companions hadn't seen on their last visit to the frozen highlands. Morik stopped before Nellise and gave her a curt bow.

"I would never have dreamed you'd ask this of your women," she said quietly.

"I didn't," Morik replied simply. "They insisted on helping when I would not, much to my shame. Long have the women of Akora conducted their own affairs far apart from the men, and to my surprise, they are more proficient with combat than I ever gave them credit for. The past few days have been a learning experience for me, my friends. We are small in number, but filled with courage."

"It all helps," Nellise replied with a warm smile as the women marched past, each giving her a look of unabashed admiration along the way. Sayana was similarly emotional at the sight of her cousins marching to defend the realm, but Robert had a thoughtful expression on his face.

"I'd feel better about this if I knew what they were capable of," he confided to Aiden. "You saw the kind of punishment the legionnaires can dish out, and I don't relish the thought of these people on the receiving end of that."

"Whether it's them or us, someone has to do the fighting," Aiden reminded him. "The more we have in this fight, the better our chances of surviving."

"You should get used to the fact that a lot of people are about to die," Robert warned.

"They will do us proud," Sayana assured them confidently. Captain Marshald led the newcomers toward the southern area of the fort, with Aiden and his companions in tow.

"Any sign of Spartan yet?" Aiden wondered, glancing up at the skies.

"No, nothing," Robert answered. "I hope he can make it in time or he'll miss all the fun." Aiden suddenly spotted Colt and some of the other rangers talking with the local guardsmen and a group of sailors from the Royal Navy.

Standing near the big ranger was the tall, willowy figure of Mona. She seemed perfectly at ease amongst the other rangers, yet there was still some tension between her, Colt and Commander Armin.

In contrast to the sparsely populated fort they'd left a few days ago, Highmarch was teeming with activity. There were thousands of people working away, the most prominent of whom were the dwarves of Stonegaard. Aiden had been expecting two thousand of them to come and it appeared as if they had kept their word. Roughly a third of the fighting longbeards were finishing up on the buttresses, heaving reinforced supports for the wall into place with a system of pulleys and ropes.

A team of masons were inspecting the walls themselves, which appeared as if they had just undergone extensive repairs. Finally, the mainstay of the fort's defences was being tended to by the remaining dwarves — the ballistae and catapults which would be instrumental in defeating the Iron Legion.

A dozen of the oversized crossbows sat atop the battlements, with teams of engineers ready to operate them and rain down spear-like missiles. In the courtyard behind the walls, half a dozen catapults sat beside mounds of large rocks, ammunition that would soon be sent hurtling through the air.

"Not bad, eh?" Robert smirked as Aiden took in the frenetic scene with astonishment.

"Maybe we have a chance after all," he murmured, noticing a large tarpaulin covering something in the compound near the catapults. "What's that all about?"

"Not rightly sure. It might be more ammunition for the catapults, but let's ask the man in charge." Robert led Aiden over to a group of the stout engineers who were busy discussing matters in their rumbling native language. The catapults towered over the surrounding defenders, a reassuring sight as one could hope for. One of the dwarven engineers was listening patiently to the others while puffing on a pipe.

"Aiden, this is Sergeant Gordon MacTavish of the Fifth Stonegaard Engineering Corps," Robert said as way of introduction. "Sarge, meet Sir Aiden Wainwright. Don't let the title fool you, he's a pretty decent bloke."

"I'll try not to hold it against 'im," Gordon chuckled in his deep, gruff voice as he appraised Aiden with squinting eyes. His beard was brown and wrapped into a single plait which ran down the front of his chest. "Young, for a knight o' the realm. Inherit it from yer daddy or somethin'?"

"My father makes wagons," Aiden corrected, drawing a look of surprise from the burly dwarf. "Are you a cousin to King Sulinus?"

"Aye, he's my uncle's uncle, as it happens," Gordon nodded. "Don't go thinkin' I'm royalty or anythin' though, there's a few thousand MacTavishes and we're all related in some fashion. Look, it's nice to meet ya and all, but we've still got some calibrations to do here so..."

"I'll keep it brief," Aiden assured him. "I'm curious what you've got under that tarp."

"Ah, that'd be our secret weapon," Gordon said with a wink. "We've been experimenting with some of the minerals we dig out 'o the ground deep under t' mountain. More than that, I canna say."

"It's just barrels," Sayana called from behind the curious mound, having sneaked around while the others were talking to peek under the tarp.

"What th— get 'er out o' there!" Gordon barked at his men, who quickly ushered the sorceress away from the sensitive area. "Alright, that's enough gawkin'. We've work to do, so if you'll excuse me..."

"Thanks, sarge," Robert offered in a conciliatory manner while exchanging a wry glance with Sayana as she rejoined them.

"You planned that?" Aiden inquired as they walked away from the bustling engineers.

"Have you ever noticed that nobody really notices her?" Robert said. "That's what we in the business call a 'tactical asset'."

"They've noticed me," Sayana remarked, pulling a hood over her head and staring up at some short, thin men in robes walking the battlements.

"The elves of Acadia," Robert grunted with a nod. "Well, we know they've got a stick up their arses about your talents, so take it as a compliment."

"I could probably beat them all anyway," Sayana huffed. "They're little more than a stuffy bunch of old men and women."

"They're ancient, but that's a good thing when it comes to wizards," Aiden suggested. "Their archers, I'm not so sure of. They better have some trick up their sleeves or they'll be just as useless as every other archer against an army of golems."

"They really don't like me," Sayana muttered.

"Don't start getting paranoid on me, Sy," Robert advised, putting an arm around her waist. "Sure, they're strange and obnoxious, but I'm grateful they showed up. They might end up turning the battle in our favour." The sorceress glared back for a long moment before leaning her head against Robert's shoulder. Aiden found their sudden affection for each other endearing, but suspected neither of them would appreciate him pointing it out.

The doors to the fort opened and Criosa emerged, appearing distraught. She looked around and noticed Aiden and the others peering in her direction and quickly moved to join them.

"What's wrong?" Aiden asked when he saw her tear-streaked face. When he reached out to comfort her, she pulled away, almost unconsciously.

"I don't mean to alarm you," she confided, "but my father has collapsed."

"What?" Nellise exclaimed.

"Not so loud!" she hissed, glancing around to make sure nobody was listening in. "The prelate says it's exhaustion. I shouldn't have become mired in that foolish argument — it's my fault."

"Is he going to be okay?" Nellise asked.

"Apparently he'll be back on his feet within the hour, but he needs extensive rest after months of war."

"May I ask what you were discussing with him at the time?" Aiden inquired delicately.

"You and I, and why I'm even here in the first place," she answered brusquely before her flash of anger slipped away again. "My God, what have I done? I should never have decided to leave Fairloch in the first place. All that pain and suffering for what, so I can give my father a heart attack right when we need him the most?" Aiden's heart went out to her, but when he reached for her, she pushed back.

"I can't deal with you now, Aiden. I have too much to do. Everyone just... be ready for the fight. Please excuse me, the captain needs my counsel." With that, Criosa turned and began speaking with Captain Marshald as he pointed to the walls.

Aiden's thoughts were interrupted by the distinctive sound of wings flapping in the brisk mountain air. Along with thousands of others, Aiden looked to the sky and saw the silvery glint of Spartan, descending through the clear skies towards the courtyard. The dwarves in charge of the ballistae immediately began training their weapons on the dragon, accompanied by the alarm of the Akoran women.

"Ballistae, stand down immediately!" Robert roared at the top of his lungs, the sheer volume of his voice jolting Aiden. The dwarves halted their preparations and stared in confusion as Spartan spiralled down into the courtyard with Pacian clinging to his back for dear life. After a finally flurry from his wings, the resplendent dragon alighted on the ground and Pacian slid off.

"We sure are glad to see you again," Robert said with a grin.

"Thanks, it's nice to know how forgiving you are," Pacian answered, dusting himself off.

"I wasn't talking to you," Robert responded. "We were starting to get worried you wouldn't make it, Spartan." Pacian gave him a sour look, and then lost his confidence as he glanced at a disapproving Nellise.

I made all haste to join you here for the impending fight, Spartan intoned within their minds, ignoring the staring hordes of castle defenders. Judging by the approaching horde to the south, we only have a few minutes before it begins. His strength had clearly returned, and most of his wounds seemed to have healed over, although his armour was still in poor shape.

Pacian and I have had time to speak of many things, Spartan went on. I believe he has something important to say to you. All eyes turned to Pacian as he looked up at Spartan for reassurance. His eyes were troubled, lacking the belligerent glare that Aiden had grown used to seeing upon his friend's face of late.

"Look, I'm sorry," Pacian mumbled. "I'm really sorry for being such a tremendous ass these past few weeks."

"You've had issues, Pace, I don't blame you," Nellise replied to placate him, stepping to his side and laying her hand on his arm affectionately.

"No, it's not right," he insisted. "I've been rude, cranky and just plain stupid to you all. It wasn't until recently I realized just how poorly you all think of me." Nobody spoke to dispute this comment, and Pacian chuckled mirthlessly. "I'm not going to be the one to contribute to anyone's death through drunken stupidity. I swear, I can do better."

"You have no idea how relieved I am to hear that," Nellise said, planting a kiss on his cheek.

"Words are cheap," Robert grunted. Sayana jabbed an elbow into his ribs and managed to squeeze a little more out of him. "But everyone deserves a second chance," he added. "Nobody knows that better than I."

"You mean everything to me, Nel," Pacian whispered to her. "I don't know what I'd do without you, and I can't protect you if I'm a complete wreck."

"We'll talk more about it later," she assured him with a relieved smile. Although he still looked haggard, the smile he gave her was the most genuine thing Aiden had seen from him in weeks. Pacian turned and started to say something, but he hesitated, his mouth partially open as if the words simply refused to come out.

"Well don't just stand there gaping, speak to me," Aiden said as Pacian continued to hesitate. Aiden's smile vanished as he realized Pacian wasn't moving at all, and his concern spread to the others.

"Pace? What's wrong with him?" Aiden asked Nellise as she stepped back, suddenly alarmed at his frozen expression.

"Sy? Sy! Wake up!" Robert said, drawing their attention away from Pacian for a moment to see that the sorceress was also frozen stiff, one foot in the air as if she was about to take a step. Heavy, thumping footsteps caught their attention as five large, heavily armoured men pushed Aiden aside.

"Secure her," the largest of the five instructed the others in a flat voice from beneath his white hood. Heavy metal shackles were placed around Sayana's wrists and chains were wrapped around her, and when Robert moved to stop them, two of the newcomers roughly grabbed him and held him back.

Spartan let out a growl as his head snaked down to draw level with the lead man's eyes. It would have been enough to force most men to stagger backwards in fear, but he held his ground and looked back at the dragon with unflinching eyes.

"You would do well to keep to your own affairs, dragon," he said calmly.

"Who the hell are you?" Robert ordered as he struggled against his captors. Aiden quickly took stock of their apparel, noticing the pure white robes underneath their plate armour. Huge sledgehammers were slung over their backs and various religious insignia adorned their breastplates.

"The Holy Inquisitors," Nellise hissed in recognition.

"Correct," the leader purred. "We have come to defend our homeland in the name of the Church, and to settle some other matters. I am Archon Morgan White, and by the authority bestowed upon me by the Church of Aielund, these two individuals are to be incarcerated for their crimes."

"What crimes?" Nellise demanded, as she and Robert looked on helplessly while their two companions were literally dragged away. The inquisitor reached into a pouch and withdrew a sheaf of parchment, then held it before her.

"While she reads that, I shall explain our actions for the rest of you," White continued gravely. "After an extensive investigation, we have concluded that Pacian Savidge was responsible for the death of Archon Cedric Cain."

"What?" Nellise exclaimed.

"His body was recovered, and with a combination of study and divine guidance, we determined his throat was severed by a dagger, and his body dumped into the sewers. Cain's journal detailed his encounter with Pacian, who had broken into his office and threatened him with physical harm if he continued to investigate Nellise. This evidence is sufficient to warrant further investigation, so he is being secured in the fort's jail until the situation here is resolved."

"What about Sayana?" Robert bellowed. "She hasn't done a damn thing to anyone who didn't deserve it!"

"Cain's journal also made note of her actions in Stonegaard during an uprising by the local population," White went on, his calm voice a stark contrast to Robert's. "Evidently, the wizards of the University have grossly underestimated her capabilities, a matter I will be discussing with them at length when the situation permits. She clearly has the potential to destroy a large part of this fort on her own, and her presence makes a delicate situation even more tenuous. She too is being locked away until we determine what to do with her."

"Chains and shackles won't hold her, you callous bastard," Robert spat.

"Ours will," the inquisitor assured him with an empty smile. "We are well-versed in dealing with rogue wizards — those shackles are blessed by Kylaris, capable of nullifying the sorcery of whoever they are attached to. She is as harmless as the young woman she appears to be."

Nellise had finished reading the parchment, and in contrast to Robert's fury, her expression was devoid of emotion. She handed it back to the inquisitor and lowered her eyes in resignation, consumed in thought.

"I've had enough of this bullshit," Robert growled. "People have been accusing her of being some sort of crazed killer, thinking her guilty with no real evidence. If you want to arrest someone, it should have been me. I'm the one who attacked Culdeny and burned it to the ground!"

"And you would be joining them, if Princess Criosa had not spoken on your behalf," the inquisitor explained. "Once this conflict is over however, I would advise you to leave Aielund, lest a tragic accident befall you. Now, there is one final matter to resolve before the fighting starts." He reached over and drew Solas Aingeal from the sheath on Nellise's hip before she could protest.

"That weapon is mine to wield," she insisted as White held before him. Aiden had seen others of less than pure intention — namely Pacian — grasp the sword with terrible effect, and although he seethed with rage at the actions of the inquisitor, the sword didn't seem to have any ill-effect upon him.

"Solas Aingeal was bequeathed to Sir William Bryce-Clifton, Dame Nellise," the inquisitor corrected. "You righteously took up the sword after he had fallen and avenged his death, but now the archieros has decreed that a member of the Church should be the one to carry it into this battle. You are an aberration madam, not truly a member of the clergy, and your good standing with the Crown does little to assuage our concerns.

"You may take solace in the knowledge that the full might of Kylaris shall be brought down upon Aielund's enemies. May Her favour shine down upon you all." With a gesture, the inquisitors released Robert and stomped towards the battlements. Robert spat a number of curses at them as they departed, until Nellise raised a hand.

"Robert, please, you're burning my ears off," she begged, rubbing her temples. "They have the full backing of the Church, as well as the Crown... there's nothing we can do. Oh Pacian, what have you done?"

"Maybe this explains his strange behaviour of late," Aiden suggested, despondent at the sudden loss of two valuable allies.

"No, he was never distraught at the death of someone he considered an enemy," Nellise mumbled. "I fear there is more to this than we've learned." Before Aiden could answer, the sound of horns echoed across the landscape, drawing the attention of everyone present to the south."

"Oh my God," Nellise breathed. "They're here."

Chapter Twenty

Aiden crowded alongside the defenders on top of the wall, looking out over the frozen ground to the south. A few hundred yards away, dozens of men, women and children — the survivors of Trinity — ran for the supposed safety of the stone walls while a twenty armoured cavalry followed at a distance, their hooves churning up a cloud of white powder.

"Is this all that remains of the army?" Captain Marshald asked in disbelief as the beleaguered masses, at the limits of their endurance, stumbled on through the snow towards the southern gate.

"God knows how many perished back at Trinity," Aiden muttered despondently. "This might be all who live to tell of its demise."

"I count only thirteen riders," Robert added, "less than half the number we left at the escarpment. I'd wager they held back to fend off the enemy, the poor bastards. By the way, Captain, I trust you've been briefed on the nature of what we're facing here?"

"Yes, though I can scarcely believe it," Marshald replied gruffly. "Everyone knows what we're up against, but it's nothing I've been trained to deal with."

"Where did Criosa go?" Aiden asked him.

"I sent her inside the keep to watch over her father, right after she gave me complete authority over the defence," the captain replied. "I guess she didn't think too hard about that one. Much good it does me, mind you."

"I refuse to believe we've come this far and endured so much, only to fail at the moment of triumph," Nellise said resolutely, standing with her repeating crossbow in her hands. "God isn't so cruel, I think."

"I pray that you are right, my lady," the captain mumbled in reply.

"I wish Clavis was here," Aiden remarked suddenly, the crossbow bringing back memories of fallen comrades.

"He is, Aiden," Nellise told him. "So is Valennia, and Sir William... I carry the spirits of our fallen friends with me — their memories guide my hand and steel my resolve."

"That's a nice thought," Aiden said wistfully, wishing Salinder had the energy to reassure him of his presence. The survivors had nearly reached the lip of the moat, nearly a hundred feet from the gate.

"Lower the bridge!" Marshald shouted to the gatehouse, and within moments the clanking of chains accompanied the descent of the massive wooden gate. By the time it slammed into the ground, the survivors of Trinity had gathered at the edge of the moat, and immediately hurried across its length. Amongst their number were a dozen or so of the Trinity guard, and their captain looked up to see Robert salute him as he led his people through the gate.

Shortly after they staggered into the courtyard below, the remaining cavalry trotted along the bridge, their exhausted mounts bearing their wounded riders behind the patched-up walls of Highmarch.

I'll go and see if I can offer some healing," Nellise said, setting down her crossbow before heading down the stairs, along with five other robed priests, and began to provide them with whatever aid they needed.

As the drawbridge was slowly closed, Aiden noticed the five inquisitors kneeling in a semi-circle nearby, their hands upon their huge weapons before them and their hooded heads bowed in prayer. As the closest thing to a militant arm of the Church, Aiden suspected they were incapable of the same sort of divine healing he'd seen Nellise and a few other priests perform, but the simple fact they refused to assist the others didn't sit well with him at all.

A subtle, jarring vibration ran through the wall at that moment, followed by another, and another until the ground was practically humming with movement. Turning his gaze to the south, Aiden knew what he was about to see but was still taken aback by the sheer spectacle of it.

From over the windswept horizon came the first of the Iron Legion, their centuries-old metal bodies dark against the pure white snow upon which they walked. Each footstep drew them inexorably closer to the fort, and upon viewing their advance the defenders of Highmarch quailed in fear.

"Steady," Marshald bellowed, "hold your positions and do not engage until ordered!" Aiden was struck with a sudden sense of repeated history, having seen all of this happen before over and over in his dreams. This time, they didn't have a golden dragon to save them, nor a legendary warrior armoured in black.

"What's the range on your catapults, sarge?" Robert asked the dwarven engineer, who stood on the parapet with one of his younger men assisting him.

"I wouldna think they'd go much past three hunnerd yards with any degree o' accuracy," Gordon mused. "I'll give the order to shoot when it feels right. The ballistae will hit out past five hunnerd yards, but they lose penetrative power long before that so I'd be inclined to keep 'em in reserve 'til we see the whites o' their eyes... which I'm guessin' they don't have."

"They look a bit different than the others we've seen," Aiden mused, squinting at them over the brightness of the snow. "There's something odd about their shoulders."

"Looks like they're carrying something... oh hell," he cursed in realization. "Get those people out of here!" he bellowed down to the civilians and wounded in the courtyard below. "Move them to the north end of the fort — don't think, just do it, now!" The giant golems stopped a few hundred yards out and dropped a pile of boulders at their feet, each one roughly three feet across. Then, one by one the war machines picked up a rock and with a mighty heave of their powerful metal arms, hurled them towards the wall.

"Incoming!" Marshald yelled as the rocks sailed through the air and thundered into the walls. The defenders took cover behind whatever they could find as the constant rumble of stone impacting on stone echoed through the mountains. Up close, as Aiden was, the noise was deafening. He covered his ears and crouched behind a crenulation as broken stone flew through the air around him.

One of the incoming rocks crashed into a ballista and its crew further along the battlements, obliterating it in one hit and killing all three of its dwarven engineers. More and more people were struck as the punishing assault continued unabated for several minutes.

"Are the walls going to hold against this?" Marshald asked Sergeant MacTavish from the shelter of the gate tower.

"My boys did what they could for the walls, but I wouldna expect them to last a day under this sort of assault!" the engineer shouted back. At that moment, Captain Marshald's decision to take cover behind one of the two gate towers proved to be ill-fated when two giant rocks smashed into it simultaneously, levelling the small tower and tossing the broken bodies of the captain and three of his men into the courtyard. Aiden watched them fall, unable to look away as the captain was taken from them.

"Sergeant, get those ballistae shooting, now!" Robert roared. Gordon nodded his understanding and frantically signalled the nearby ballista turrets to commence. They took careful aim and began sending bolts of iron through the air towards the distant enemy. Aiden didn't dare risk peering over the protective stonework with the barrage of stone still crashing into the old wall, and he could only hope their counter-attack was having some effect.

I could slow their assault for a time, if I was to fly out and attack, Spartan offered to Aiden from just below the wall where he sat waiting for orders.

"If the Ironlord is out there, it might use that death magic on you," Aiden called back, hoping he could be understood over the noise. "You're too valuable a target to lose this early in the fight." Spartan growled a low purr of frustration but continued to wait.

A minute later, the barrage ceased, leaving only the cries of the wounded and the howl of the wind to break the silence. Aiden risked a peek over the wall and saw the fifteen legionnaires had finally run out of ammunition and were advancing on the fort, one lumbering stride at a time. Robert also took stock of the situation and rose to his feet, a figure of resolve amongst the chaos of the siege.

"In the absence of proper leadership, I am taking command," he roared across the battlements. "I'm not your king or your captain, and I'm sure as hell not your mother. What I am is a survivor, and if you follow my orders, we just might make it out of this in one piece. I'm also a hell-spawned son of a bitch, and if I see anyone deserting their post, I'll personally chase you down and cut your bloody head off. We are making our stand right here, right now! Sergeant MacTavish, hit 'em with what you've got. Everyone else, be ready for my order to engage."

His speech had a powerful effect upon the defenders, who steeled their resolve in the wake of the brutal opening assault from their enemy. The dwarven engineer conferred with one of his assistants and within moments, shouted out co-ordinates to the catapult crews.

The mighty siege engines were loaded with metal balls the same size as the rocks that had been thrown against the walls, and within moments, were sent hurtling through the air with a snap of the reinforced wooden arm. One by one all of the catapults unleashed their deadly payload and Aiden watched from the wall, transfixed by the sight as they rained down upon the legionnaires.

Only two of them struck true, but the impact was loud enough to be heard throughout the area. One of the war golems had its head caved in completely, and the other took the blow on its oversized chest. Both of them staggered under the force of the impact, but quickly recovered. Neither of them stopped their advance, leading Aiden to the obvious conclusion that their heads were purely ornamental in nature. They closed in on the gaping hole in the ground that served as the fort's moat, and Robert decided they were now close enough for a proper response.

"Archers and wizards, engage the enemy!" he bellowed, pointing his sword at the enemy. The defenders of Highmarch responded to his call — the archers of Acadia and the Royal Rangers shot their armour-piercing arrows, showering the golems in sharp metal, and the elven wizards invoked bolts of lightning and bursts of acid which slowed and scorched their armoured skin.

"I think now be a good time to try our secret weapon," Gordon suggested to his bearded assistants. One of them raised a red flag and waved it back and forth, a pre-arranged signal to the catapult crews. The tarpaulins were drawn back from the barrels underneath, which were quickly loaded onto the siege engines. Adjustments were made and within moments, the barrels were hurled through the air towards their unsuspecting targets.

Again, less than half of the barrels actually struck their targets, but each and every one of them exploded with terrific force, blanketing the area in fire and thick black smoke, and stunning the defenders with the force of the detonation. Aiden's ears were ringing from the blast, but he heard the riotous cheers from the dwarven crews well enough.

"Sarge, what the hell was in those barrels?" Aiden asked, shouting over the noise in his ears. The stoic engineer simply winked at him, a faint smile visible on his bearded face. Eager to see the results, Aiden leaned over the wall and waited for the thick black smoke to dissipate.

There was movement in amongst the cloud, and several legionnaires strode forth, smoke and fire billowing from their armoured hides. But as the air cleared, two of the war machines appeared to be little more than twisted hulks of metal, standing rigidly amongst the melted snow.

"Nice work, Sarge," Robert said.

"Sayana should be up here," Aiden lamented, silently cursing the inquisitors for taking her away. Glancing towards the courtyard, he saw them standing patiently near the main gate along with three hundred Akoran women, waiting for when they were needed. They'd never notice him.

"Robert, I'm going to break Sayana out of jail," Aiden informed the mercenary, who gave him a wolfish grin before turning his attention back to the battlefield before him.

Aiden rushed down the stairs to the courtyard behind the gate, and then weaved through the throng, making his way toward the keep. The catapults hurled another barrage of explosive barrels as he headed past, and this time he covered his ears as the deafening report echoed across the frozen courtyard.

He went through the huge, thick doors into the keep, and made his way to the stairs leading down. The walls were grimy and thick with mould, giving the impression this area hadn't been used a great deal in recent times. The air was moist and cold, and the only light was from sputtering torches set into the walls in metal sconces.

Aiden hadn't seen the keep's jail on his previous visit, so he wasn't entirely sure where he had to go. There were several passageways leading off from the central hall, any of which could lead to the dungeons. On an impulse, he checked the flagstones below and noticed fresh scuffmarks on the unclean surface, surely the result of the inquisitors dragging magically bound people through the hall.

Trusting his instincts, he followed the trail along the left passageway which continued on for fifty yards or so, before arriving at a heavy metal door. It was locked, of course, but that wasn't going to stop Aiden. Tracing the glyphs on his gauntlet, he felt the surge of power wash through his body and simply ripped the door from its hinges.

The metal squealed in protest as he tossed it aside and stepped into the jail. Rows of barred cells were arrayed across the far side of the room, their depths obscured by long shadows cast by the sole torch on the wall. There were no guards — everyone who could hold a sword was out on the battlements, leaving any occupants unattended. Aiden summoned his arcane light and moved in, peering into each cell in the hope of locating his friends.

"Oh Sy," he whispered mournfully when he saw the sorceress in the central cell. She had been chained to the wall several feet from the floor, her limbs restrained by an assortment of restraints crossing her body. A look of hollow despondency was on her face as she looked up to see Aiden outside.

Without hesitation, Aiden pulled on the door until the lock ripped away, and hurried in to take stock of her situation. Her expression was heartbreaking, but he focused his efforts on the chains themselves.

"Don't worry, I'll get you out of here," Aiden assured her, though he found her silence troubling.

Upon closer inspection, he could see an assortment of runes and sigils upon the shining manacles. They appeared to be fashioned from vythir, and were far stronger than mere iron. He recognized some of the glyphs as suppressive in nature, preventing the wearer from manipulating energy by any means.

"You can't speak because of the manacles," Aiden explained as he examined them closely. "I guess they can't abide rogue wizards being able to use their tongue. I don't see any way to get these off you — did they take the keys with them?" Sayana nodded with some difficulty, so tight were the chains around her head. He tried to use his augmented strength on the manacles, but they resisted his efforts and Sayana's eyes went wide with pain. They were simply too tight.

"I need something to get these open," Aiden explained softly, trying to reassure her that he wasn't about to give up. A dull explosion could be heard echoing from the courtyard above, reminding him of what was going on above.

Sayana's eyes glanced to her left, as if she was trying to indicate something. There was nothing helpful on the wall she was gesturing to, so Aiden peered around the corner into the next cell and saw a lump of darkness upon the floor. Looking closer, he saw a crop of blond hair and realized who it was.

"Pace," Aiden muttered, his feelings for his old friend mixed since he'd learned that Pacian was a murderer.

"I would have thought you'd be too busy to come and gloat, what with that battle going on," he murmured from the floor.

"I've come here for Sayana, but they've got her properly chained up. I need you to break her out, and I don't have time for speeches, drama or trying to wheedle your way out of this mess. If our friendship still means anything, please, help me out." Pacian rolled over and looked directly at Aiden. He could see bruises, cuts and welts where he'd been beaten. The inquisition was not known for its subtlety.

Aiden tore the door open and then dispelled the gauntlet's power before it became too hot — he'd need it for later. Pacian was slowly beginning to rise from the floor, his sluggish movements suggesting his face wasn't the only wounded part of his body.

"See if you can find my gear," he suggested to Aiden as he hobbled out of the cell. Aiden looked around and saw his equipment hanging from a hook on the opposite wall. The inquisitors had clearly been in a hurry. He handed it over to Pacian, who quickly sifted through one of the pouches and produced a set of lock picks.

Aiden assisted him into Sayana's cell, and watched as he went to work on the myriad locks that held her against the wall. The near-silence seemed awkward, because there was an unanswered question hanging between them.

"Did you really kill an inquisitor?" Aiden asked quietly, unable to stop himself. He had to know.

"Yeah, though I had my reasons," Pacian replied soberly as he continued his work to free Sayana. "This right here? Sayana being locked up? This is one of them. The bastard must have followed us to Stonegaard and kept an eye on her or something."

"No regrets then?" Aiden pressed, sensing something else going on.

"...I didn't say that," Pacian hedged, then fell silent as he opened all of the locks imprisoning Sayana. She dropped to the ground and rubbed feeling back into her tortured limbs.

"I've freed you because we need your power fighting these things," Aiden informed her. "But those inquisitors are in the courtyard, so you're both going to have to keep out of sight or they'll just haul you back down here again."

"I'm not going to be much use in this fight anyway," Pacian muttered.

"Thank you for freeing me," Sayana finally said, "but I don't think there is much I can do against those golems, either. They seem resistant to most of my attacks, like the one down under the desert."

"I've got some good news for you, then," Aiden said as he escorted his friends to the door. "They seem to be vulnerable to heavy impacts." Sayana seemed to consider this for a long moment as they headed towards the stairs.

"I can work with that," she responded, leaving Aiden to wonder what she had in mind. When they reached the exit to the fort, she stopped them and began weaving her hands together as he'd seen her do many times before.

"I think I can copy Criosa's incantation," she mumbled absently, and then promptly vanished. "Okay, just head back onto the wall and I'll follow in your wake," she added with a disembodied voice.

"I'll blend into the crowd well enough," Pacian said, "don't worry about me."

Aiden once more weaved his way through the busy courtyard and the restless defenders, taking extra care to avoid the inquisitors near the gate, until he was finally back atop the wall. Looking over the battlefield, Aiden saw the wrecks of three more golems, with the rest of the legion withdrawing back towards the horizon chased by a flurry of arrows.

"You turned them back?" Aiden asked Robert, who watched the scene with grim satisfaction.

"I don't think it was anything we did," he responded. "They just couldn't figure out how to get over the moat. A thirty-foot drop, half-filled with light snow is practically impossible to walk through, especially for something that weighs three tons. Just the fact that the Ironlord needs these things to soften the defences tells me it's not invulnerable. And that gives me hope. Was your mission successful?"

"Our friends are with us, even now," Aiden replied somewhat cryptically, hoping Robert would understand. He nodded slowly, glancing around in a vain attempt to spot his invisible girlfriend. His search was interrupted when the sharp-eyed elves warned of more incoming boulders.

"Here it comes again," the mercenary winced as everyone took cover. Again, the wall took a beating from a shower of boulders. For long minutes they endured the assault, and Aiden was alarmed to notice great cracks appearing in the wall. The barrage stopped abruptly however, and when he peeked over the parapet, he almost didn't believe what he saw coming their way.

Towering over the battlefield came the Lassitus, a towering construct of vaguely humanoid shape, but hunched over, with massive shoulders and arms ten feet thick. Great scars rent its metal hide, and its right leg and arm didn't seem to move as freely as the other side, a legacy of the battle against the Ironlord it had lost ages ago.

Each of the Lassitus' plodding footsteps shook the earth, and a cry of dismay went up from the defenders at the sight of the colossus bearing down upon them.

"You will hold this wall," Robert roared over the tumult. "We are not done here yet, ladies and gentlemen."

"But it's huge!" Colt shouted back from his position further down the wall.

"Then you shouldn't have any trouble hitting it!" Robert bellowed.

"As if the Ironlord wasn't enough by itself, we have to deal with this thing too," Aiden muttered, briefly considering unleashing Salinder's last energy upon it.

"Sergeant, send a volley at that behemoth, if you please," Robert interrupted. "If you hit it with every shot, I'll buy your lads a beer when this is all over."

"Right you are, Commander," Gordon answered, and signalled his catapult teams to ready another barrage. The engineers worked quickly and when ready, the catapults sent their payload high into the air, sailing through the sky and smashing into the front of the Lassitus.

The barrels exploded upon impact, covering its gargantuan torso in fire and smoke, but it kept on walking towards the fort, heedless of the fires wreathing it.

"You didn't mention I had to fight that thing," Sayana hissed next to Aiden's ear. He didn't answer, transfixed by the sheer scale of the construct as it balled up its fists and took its first steps into the moat.

"Sarge, give it another volley of the solid rounds!" Robert roared over the top of the deafening sounds of the battle. The catapults, already loaded, sent their payloads high into the air once more, and this time not a single shot missed the giant target, pummelling it with boulders.

Arrows and lightning were unleashed at the chest of the Lassitus, and Sayana appeared next to Aiden, her arms raised as she added her own power to the assault, sending a bolt of crackling green energy flying towards it. Spartan, sensing an opportunity to strike, leaped down from the wall and dove straight at the towering construct, hitting it with enough force to stop it in its tracks.

Pummelled with everything they could muster, the ancient war machine stopped moving in mid-stride and ever so slowly began to fall forwards. The cheers of the defenders were deafening as the battered Lassitus crashed into the ground with a thunderous boom, its head just short of the drawbridge itself.

"That was bloody brilliant," Pacian chortled, watching the scene from the safety of the remains of the gate tower, clutching on to Nellise's discarded crossbow. Aiden pumped a triumphant fist at Spartan as the dragon soared overhead, a shining symbol of defiance against seemingly impossible odds.

"That was easier than I thought," Robert muttered once the noise had subsided. Sure enough, in the distance, the remains of the Iron Legion could be seen stomping inexorably towards the gate once more. "Reset your catapults, Sarge," Robert advised as he took in the scene.

"Aye commander, but we've a bigger problem'n that," the engineer warned.

"What are they going to do, fly over the moat?" Pacian asked.

"Nay, lad, that looks like a pretty serviceable bridge to me," Gordon remarked, looking down at the gigantic fallen construct. Aiden peered over the wall and realized he was correct. The Lassitus spanned the entire moat, and was easily wide enough to accommodate its smaller cousins.

"They're going to walk right up to the gate and smash their way through this time," Aiden said grimly. He looked out at the dozen legionnaires heading their way, and saw the Ironlord was moving along with them, its massive sword held ready and a mask of inhuman resolve on its ancient metal helm.

Chapter Twenty-One

"Hit 'em with everything you've got!" Robert Black bellowed hoarsely as the Iron Legion closed in on their makeshift bridge. Armour-piercing arrows rained down upon the advancing constructs, accompanied by bolts of lightning and showers of acid from the elven wizards.

Sergeant MacTavish ordered another volley of explosive barrels loaded, and before the first legionnaire set foot upon the charred bulk of the Lassitus, the thunderous report of nearly half a dozen direct hits echoed over the picturesque mountain landscape.

When the smoke cleared from the scene, the mangled remains of one construct was sliding down into the murky depths of the moat, leaving an even dozen to deal with. Sayana, nestled in amongst the elven wizards to hide her presence, began lifting up the boulders the legion had hurled at them earlier using only her mind, sending them hurtling down at the enemy. Although she had lost her staff in the ruins of Trinity, her innate talents were nothing short of formidable.

The solid impacts from the massive chunks of stone left great dents in the chests and arms of the war golems, for Sayana ensured that each boulder hit exactly where she wanted it to. When the first legionnaire was halfway across the makeshift bridge, a solid hit from one side sent it plummeting into the sodden ground below.

At the rear of the advancing column came the Ironlord itself, directing its iron soldiers with silent orders.

"I don't care what history says," Robert confided to Aiden over the din. "If that thing was truly immortal, it wouldn't bother sending in its disposable minions first. Sarge! Can you send a present to our uninvited guest?"

"Happy to oblige, Commander," Gordon replied before shouting co-ordinates down to his teams.

"Why don't you see if you can hit it as well, Sy," Aiden called to the sorceress. He wasn't certain she could hear him, for she simply stood there, staring out over the battlefield at their nemesis. Aiden snapped his gaze to the Ironlord, and saw it staring impassively back at her.

"Something's wrong," Aiden muttered to himself, unsure what to make of this. He felt a tinge of relief as she snapped out of her trance, and darkened the area around her as she drew in energy from the atmosphere itself. Whatever she was planning to do, it was going to be big, Aiden thought with satisfaction.

When the darkness lifted, she was glowing with power. Expecting her to unleash something impressive at the Ironlord, she instead pivoted around and sent a massive ball of fire hurtling towards the nearest catapult. The fireball erupted with catastrophic force, sending the charred bodies of siege engineers in all directions, and obliterating the engine itself.

But more than that, the flames from her sudden attack enveloped the remaining barrels of ammunition, which exploded with concussive force, sending a pillar of flame two hundred feet into the sky. Dozens of people died in the attack, but Sayana wasn't finished.

Before those around her could react, she sent a bolt of lightning through the acadian wizards, killing more than half of them in one stroke and leaving the rest smouldering on the parapet, trying to regain control of their limbs.

"What the hell are you doing?" Robert roared, unable to grasp what had just happened. The defence of the fort faltered as the defenders were thrown into chaos. Some of them stood still, unsure if they should fight her, while others ran for their lives as she sent a wave of fire over the wall. The Royal Rangers were caught in the blast, but Mona saw the flames coming and on instinct, grabbed Colt around the waist and tumbled into the courtyard below.

The eastern half of the wall had been completely cleared, and Sayana turned towards the other half, only to find the five inquisitors rushing up the stairs towards her. Robert stood there staring at her, still unable to grasp her betrayal. Sayana's actions were blatantly hostile, but her eyes were devoid of any emotion, as if her mind was no longer her own. Aiden had a flash of intuition and suddenly knew what was going on. He cried out in frustration at his own short-sightedness and grabbed onto Robert, shaking him out of his stupor.

"The Iron Lord," he shouted. "It got the name because it controls other constructs!"

"So? Sayana isn't a bloody golem!" Robert shouted back.

"Her tattoos, they were made by the same people that made the damned golems in the first place! It's controlling her like it's controlling them! All the warnings we've heard over the past few weeks have proven true, and I let her out of the bloody cell!"

Both men turned to stare out at the column of constructs, now marching over the ruined Lassitus unimpeded towards the gate. The Ironlord stood on the ground at the lip of the moat, and raised its empty hand up towards the wall, palm first.

A brilliant beam of yellow light sizzled through the air, well above the heads of the advancing column and blasting the massive wooden gate to pieces. Aiden and Robert recoiled from the shock of the explosion as pieces of stone, metal and charred wood flew through the air.

As the first of the constructs climbed into the gatehouse, Spartan flew past at speed, clipping the top of the legionnaire's head, sending it over the edge into the pit below. The dragon pivoted in the air, flying low over the wall where it had been breached earlier, avoiding any chance for the Ironlord to use its devastating weapon against him.

A blast of fire from nearby caught Aiden's attention, as the battle between Sayana and the inquisitors played out only a dozen yards away. True to their nature, they were well versed in battling rogue wizards. Sayana sent a bolt of crackling green energy at Archon White, but it was deflected harmlessly into the sky as he stalked ominously towards her with Solas Aingeal in hand.

"There's nothing we can do here," Robert growled, watching as the inquisitors traded blows with the woman he had only just come to know, and possibly even love. "The wall is lost, defend the gate!" he shouted to the remaining defenders, drawing his elven-crafted blade and directing the battle from above. Aiden was caught between trying to do something for Sayana and fending off the horde of constructs about to burst into the fort, but ultimately, there was little choice in the matter.

Leaving his former lover to her fate, Aiden pulled out the few scrolls he had left and quickly rifled through them. He vividly recalled the last time he'd failed to interpret the obscure language of magic, and his hands were shaking as he selected a scroll and began to recite it aloud.

Aiden shut out the sounds of the fighting and the cries of the wounded, focusing only upon the words before him. When the scroll disintegrated in his hands, he felt a surge of power run through him like never before, and knew he had succeeded.

Two golems had already passed through the entrance to the fort, and the roar of the defenders moving to hold it in the bailey was deafening. The column of constructs seemed vulnerable, so Aiden formulated a plan and raised his arms.

Power surged through his veins and rushed out to the rock faces that formed the east and west walls of the fort. Highmarch had literally been carved into the mountain, and Aiden was going to borrow some of that ancient earth to defend it. With a gesture, he ripped a piece of stone five square yards in size from the rock face, and sent it soaring into the air above, leaving a trail of fragments cascading to the ground below.

When it was two hundred feet above the ground, he enacted the second part of the mighty incantation and sent a charge of power at the stone, shattering it and igniting the pieces with blue flames. With a final gesture, Aiden pointed at the Ironlord and watched as the slabs of molten rock plummeted through the air with immense speed.

A brief flicker of satisfaction crossed Aiden's features as the Ironlord looked up at the oncoming storm of rock just before it hit. The first deafening impact shook the earth like an avalanche, closely followed by other smaller impacts as the fragments struck the ground in quick succession. The Ironlord disappeared amongst the debris along with two of its closest minions, buried under tons of rock.

Even though Aiden had been anticipating the impact, he instinctively flinched and covered his face as a cloud of dirt and snow loomed over the battlefield. Robert stood beside him, speechless at the display of power, before both men turned their eyes to the mound of rock in the slim hope their enemy had been destroyed.

The Iron Legion kept fighting, and Sayana was still battling the inquisition, leaving Aiden with the hollow feeling his incantation had been for naught. Sure enough, long moments after the rocks had settled to the earth, the largest pile exploded outwards as the immortal construct within shattered it with stupendous power, striding forward onto the Lassitus Bridge with cold fury.

"You have got to be kidding me," Robert growled in frustration, smashing his gauntlet into the wall. Sayana, holding whips made of fire, lashed at the inquisitors as they struggled to contain her.

Below, the Akorans led by Morik Far-Eagle faced off against two legionnaires, slamming their great two-handed hammers and axes into their metal hides while the balled fists of the constructs swept the brave warrior women aside as if they were kindling. More and more of the legionnaires broke through the line, stomping into the courtyard and tossing aside anyone that stood in their way.

"We're getting overrun," Robert growled.

"I'll buy us some more time," Aiden said.

"Time for what?" Robert snapped. Aiden ignored him as he pulled out another scroll. The incantation wasn't nearly as complicated as the last one, and he felt confident he could manage. He grabbed the mercenary by the arm and pulled him away from the gate tower, then read from the scroll.

The wall shook as the parchment ignited and crumbled away, and suddenly the stonework around the bailey exploded, caving in on several constructs and blocking the entrance. As the dust cleared, Aiden could see six legionnaires were in the courtyard, meeting the full might of the combined defenders head-on.

"I think I got three with that one," Aiden calculated quickly. "They'll dig themselves out soon enough, but it's three less we—"

Before he could finish, the brilliant yellow lance formed once again, blasting through the collapsed rock and three of the Ironlord's minions in the process. Their metal bodies were simultaneously melted and blasted apart, coating the pathway with molten metal. It formed an entrance for their leader, and the Ironlord stomped unimpeded through the opening into the fort, its titanic sword held ready in one hand.

A nearby scream of pain drew Aiden's attention away from the advancing host, and he saw that Sayana had killed two of the inquisitors. She didn't appear to be harmed at all, despite the ferocity of their attacks. Her protective magics deflected or absorbed most of what they could dish out, and the ferocity of her return attacks was terrifying to behold. Aiden had never seen her kill with such emotionless detachment, as if her enemies were merely obstacles.

The battle came to an abrupt end when she raised her arms and sent the three inquisitors flying into the air, only to plummet back down to the wall with a sickening impact. She stepped over their bloodied remains and was heading in Aiden's direction when her protective layer of blue flame suddenly vanished.

Behind her, one of the robed acadian wizards stood and pulled back her hood, revealing the Archmage Gwynne, charred but otherwise still alive. Her eyes were narrowed with terrible focus on the sorceress, and when she raised her arms once more another layer of magic was stripped from Sayana's form. She responded with a casual flick of her wrist, sending a bolt of lightning towards the arch mage, but it reflected off a protective shield surrounding the wizard and struck Sayana instead.

She screamed in pain as the electricity crackled over her body, the first sound or expression of emotion she had made since the Ironlord had taken control of her. Gwynne didn't wait for her to recover, invoking a giant magical hand the same size as her, which grabbed hold of Sayana and started to crush the life out of her. Sayana couldn't move, but she managed to resist the pressure upon her and lifted a finger, pointing at the elven wizard.

A bolt of crackling green energy shot out, blasting away the wizard's defensive sphere and knocking her to the ground. The crushing fist vanished, and Sayana paused for a moment to catch her breath. Smoke rose from Gwynne's body as she struggled back to her feet, and before Sayana could prepare a response, the wizard raised her hand and with an invisible force, lashed out at the sorceress.

Sayana flew through the air, soaring over the battlefield and landed heavily amidst the wreckage of the catapults she'd already destroyed, disappearing into the flames. Aiden wasn't sure if he should be pleased that his friend had been taken out of the fight, or worried for her safety, but he couldn't expend any more thought on her plight.

Below, the battle raged on as the combined might of the Akorans and the soldiers of Trinity clashed with the five remaining legionnaires. It was hard to judge who was winning the fight, but both sides were taking a beating. The fort's defenders were flesh and blood, and each blow from a clenched metal fist had devastating results, yet the men and women fighting for their lives landed blow after blow on the constructs, slowly grinding them down.

Gwynne recovered from her fight and invoked another incantation, forming a tall, humanoid shape from the pieces of stone that lay strewn around the courtyard. The stone elemental was nearly the same size as the legionnaires, and it began to smash at them with its rocky body.

"Rally around that rock monster!" Robert bellowed to the defenders, who quickly formed up on its ranks as it smashed into the golems with both fists. Gwynne summoned more of her energies and held her open palm towards the Ironlord itself, knocking it into the wall.

Aiden grinned mirthlessly at the sight, feeling renewed hope that it could indeed be damaged, until it pivoted around and sent a lance of brilliant energy at the Acadian wizard. She was vaporised instantly, and the beam melted stone where it struck the remains of the wall. The elemental crumbled apart as her life was snuffed out, and the defence of the fort once more hung in the balance.

"We've got to neutralize that thing or we're going to lose this fight," Robert growled.

"I'm waiting for the right moment to take my shot," Aiden assured him, fighting the urge to summon Salinder's last energies and attack the damned thing. "All of my remaining power will only last a few minutes, so if I miss my chance, it's all over." He glanced around for signs of the black wizard's return, but of Terinus, there was no sign.

Sergeant MacTavish had joined up with one of the remaining ballista crews and repositioned the weapon to point inwards. Once they had it loaded, they began sending spear-sized projectiles down at point-blank range, right into the backs of the Iron Legion.

Though they were massive and heavily armoured, the legionnaires could only take so much punishment. A group of Akoran women, led by Chief Morik and armed with great sledgehammers, combined their efforts and felled several golems with a repeated succession of crushing blows.

Spartan appeared out of nowhere and leaped upon one of the more heavily damaged golems, sending them both tumbling into one of the ruined buildings nearby. The fight was hard to follow, obscured by the smoke and wreckage as it was, but the crackle of lightning, accompanied by the sound of claws on metal, emerged from the ruins as the dragon tore the heavily damaged war machine apart.

Hundreds of defenders had fallen in the battle, bashed to death by the fists of the golems, or simply crushed underfoot as they ploughed through the defensive lines. Through it all, Robert Black called down orders, keeping the defence organized and pointing out weak spots in the golems. Without his commanding influence, the front line would have faltered long ago and the fight would already be over.

A streak of fire emerged from the ruins of the siege engines as Sayana soared into the sky once more. The brief surge of relief Aiden felt disappeared as he realized she was undoubtedly still under the influence of the Ironlord. She hovered over the battlefield, ignoring the occasional arrow that bounced off her protective spells, before unleashing a torrent of fire upon the defenders.

Dozens should have perished in the flames, but for the influence of Nellise, who used her prayers to protect the defenders. A flash of silver darted past them as Spartan leaped from the ruins of the buildings and shot through the sky to tackle Sayana head-on. His claws slashed away at her spectral armour, tearing up her clothes and drawing blood. She responded with a blast of sonic energy that stunned the small dragon for a moment, allowing her to break free of his grasp.

When he recovered, Spartan dove directly at her once again, a blast of lightning engulfing Sayana right before he impacted, sending them both wheeling through the air. The dragon latched onto her with his jaws and bit down hard, causing her to scream as they plummeted towards the wall, his claws tearing at her as they fell.

He flared his wings at the last moment and arrested his fall, just before setting down on the broken stone of the wall. Sayana lifted her arms and two massive pieces of rock lifted from the wreckage, slamming into the dragon from both sides. He staggered backwards, a rib gruesomely emerging from his bloodied chest.

Sayana stood up, her torn clothes revealing the full extent of her injuries. Blood flowed freely from dozens of wounds, and the glow of her tattoos was plainly visible. Incredulously, Aiden could see the flow ebbing, and some of the minor wounds beginning to heal over. She raised her arms and drew in the surrounding light, focusing her power for another massive invocation. The wounded dragon knew what was coming and leaped into the sky.

The familiar sight of the green energy shot out from her hand once more as light returned to the area, and although Spartan had moved quickly, it wasn't fast enough to avoid the brunt of the impact. His left wing vanished and he bellowed a mournful howl as he plummeted to the courtyard, leaving a trail of smoke and blood as he crashed to the earth.

Sayana stood unsteadily, looking down at her fallen enemy briefly before turning back to the fight, only to find Robert Black standing in her way, his weapon drawn and a cold, uncompromising look on his face.

"A lot of good people have died because of you, and I don't know if you're still Sayana or not, but this end—" he began, but was interrupted as she sent a bolt of lightning towards him. Robert had anticipated the attack however, and brought his auldsteel shield up to protect him. The bolt actually deflected off the shield completely, blasting harmlessly into the air. Robert spun around and brought his sword in high, slicing down towards the unsuspecting woman. A shield of force intersected the cut, however, and two lashes of flame sprung to life in her hands, with which she lashed him.

"Damn it Terinus, where are you?" Aiden muttered as he continued to watch. More than once, Robert smashed Sayana with his shield, stunning her briefly and giving him the opportunity to finish her off with a quick stab to her unprotected body. But each time, Aiden saw that he hesitated, and with a sinking feeling in his chest he knew Robert had indeed fallen for her and simply couldn't bring himself to deal the killing blow.

She sent both of her lashes around his right leg and pulled him from his feet. His defence was down and it gave Sayana the chance to summon enough energy to throw him backwards with telekinetic force. Robert smashed into the battlements and fell on his back, his sword falling over the wall as he struggled to breathe.

He looked up at Sayana with his one good eye as she walked forward to stand before him. Aiden was about to leap forward to his defence, when he saw tears streaking from her eyes. Somewhere deep inside, she was still Sayana — the person and not the weapon — and it occurred to Aiden she had been forced to watch, unable to stop herself as she killed hundreds of people and beat the man she loved half to death.

"Since when did you learn how to fight like that?" Robert croaked. "I can still see you're in there, Sy, somewhere. Now would be a good time to tell that iron bastard to get someone else to do his dirty work. For some reason, I can't bear the thought of the woman I love being the one to kill me." His words caused more tears to flow from her face, mixing with the dirt and ash from the fires she has started.

Before she could unleash whatever killing magic she had planned, the points of two daggers emerged from her midriff along with a fountain of blood. Sayana looked down at the mortal wounds with astonishment, and the light went out of her markings as she slumped to the ground.

Behind her stood Pacian, forgotten in the ferocity of the fighting, holding his bloodied daggers with shaking hands. His expression was one of horror, and he dropped both weapons to the ground as he fell to his knees.

"Pacian, I..." Aiden breathed as the full impact of what had just happened hit home.

"Not again... not again," Pacian sobbed, and Aiden rushed to his side.

"You had to do it, Pace," he whispered to his friend, but he might as well have been talking to a wall. "There wasn't any other way to stop her." Pacian continued to mutter to himself quietly, oblivious to Aiden's presence.

"He's the least of our problems," Robert said from nearby, coughing blood as he spoke. "I need you to signal for a retreat." Aiden turned to face him, hardly believing what he'd just heard.

"We can't give up now, not after so many have sacrificed to get us to this point."

"What point is that?" Robert snapped, wincing from the effort. Aiden winced at the sight of him — the mercenary was a mess, covered in blood and burnt flesh after his confrontation with Sayana. "The defence is broken and each moment that passes is paid for with the blood of the men and women down there. Tell them to get out while they can, they've done enough. Too many have died already." His voice broke as he said this, his bloodshot eye drifting over to Sayana's unmoving body.

"We need just a little more time for Terinus to get here," Aiden pleaded. "If he's fixed the staff, it'll—"

"Do what exactly?" Robert coughed. "Hoping the solution is going to appear out of thin air is short-sighted, Aiden. Terinus isn't coming, mate. Either get everyone out of here, or unleash that secret weapon you've been hanging onto all this time and take your shot."

Aiden had hoped against hope it wouldn't come to this, but looking around at his fallen comrades, he couldn't justify holding back any longer.

"Are you going to be okay?" Aiden asked as he stood up, the path before him now clear.

"Probably not," Robert mumbled. "I'm just going to stay here and keep Sy company for a little while. She'll get cold up here without me." Aiden nodded, a tear finding its way down his cheek as he took out his remaining scroll and held it before him.

He carefully read the obscure language from the parchment, his mind focused purely on the task at hand. As the incantation took hold, the parchment crumbled in his hands and Aiden's mind was flooded with new information. Tactical knowledge, warfare and fighting techniques filled his memories as centuries of fighting secrets of the long lost acadian battle-masters poured into his mind.

He noticed Robert was staring up at him, and looking down at his hands, Aiden could see a dozen or more ghostly hands moving along with his. Spirits of the Acadian warriors whose knowledge he was borrowing followed his movements, lending their strength. He drew Salinder in one hand and on an impulse, reached down and picked up Solas Aingeal from the remains of Inquisitor White from nearby.

A feeling of serenity washed over him, as if he was being held by a loved one and told that everything was going to be okay. The holy blade glowed softly in his hand, its beautifully crafted design a counterpoint to the incredible power of the sword itself. With both of his weapons ready he jumped down to the courtyard, twenty feet below. Aiden landed lightly on his feet with barely a sound in spite of the distance, only a few yards behind the nearest war golem.

It was being challenged by two Akoran women, wielding massive sledgehammers who kept attacking it from alternate flanks. It was a delaying move at best, and both women showed signs of flagging strength.

It never saw him coming.

Aiden activated his gauntlet and strode in, brimming with power. When he struck the golem's flank with both swords, he literally sheared off a layer of its armour from the force of his impact. He spun and twisted, using the borrowed knowledge of the acadian elves to bring both of his weapons to bear with maximum effect.

Each blow slammed into the golem with thundering force. Sparks and chunks of white-hot metal flew around the courtyard as Aiden drove his weapons into the tiny seals on the golem's joints, prizing apart the structure. Parts scattered to the ground until he was able to finish it off with a double-slice that cut through the remaining part of its torso and sent its twisted upper half falling to earth, leaving its legs standing there like some sort of half-finished statue.

A scream from nearby caught his attention as the final legionnaire crumbled to the ground amidst the wounded and dying of the battle. Nellise, leading the last detachment of defenders, was backed up against the walls of the keep, a plain sword in her hands as she faced the implacable Ironlord bearing down on her.

Aiden took one last look around for Terinus in the vain hope he would arrive with good news, but there was no sign of him. With a grim smile, Aiden threw caution to the wind. He might be about to give his life away, but it would be a hell of a show. Gripping both of his auldsteel weapons tightly, he gritted his teeth and spoke the words that would bring the fight to an end, one way or another.

"Salinder, now!"

Chapter Twenty-Two

Nellise and the dozen or so remaining Akoran women literally had their backs to the wall. They were wounded, but showed no fear as the Ironlord moved closer.

"Thine brothers and sisters fought with passion and fervour," it said in Olde Aielish, its voice deep and metallic. "I will make thy deaths swift and merciful."

The titanic sword was raised above its head, and Nellise slashed at the Ironlord with her sword in a gesture of defiance. It had no real effect, and she closed her eyes, her expression serene as the end loomed before her.

Aiden had waited for a sign from Salinder that the dragon spirit had heard his signal, and been disappointed. But at that moment, an ominous, throaty growl came from the elven soulsword and the Ironlord froze in place. It then slowly turned its head to stare at Aiden with blazing amber eyes.

Did you think I would be vanquished so easily? Salinder's voice snarled at his old foe. The Ironlord turned away from its prey and began moving towards Aiden, circling around to take stock of this new threat. The sword hummed in Aiden's hand, the blade etched in brilliant white light.

"Thine continued survival is of no moment, cursed wyrm," the Ironlord said, speaking more to the sword than to Aiden. "When I have reclaimed what is rightfully mine, thy winged brethren will be purged from existence. To you, puppet of dragons, I say step aside — I would have words with thy false king."

"If you wanted to talk, you should have done that before slaughtering thousands of people," Aiden spat. He leaped forward and brought both of his powerful blades to bear on the ancient construct, but both were blocked by the massive, light-edged sword. Sparks of electricity flew from the weapons when they connected, and the Ironlord swung the massive blade back at Aiden with surprising speed and power.

Aiden flipped into the air, soaring over the top of the arcing blade and landing lightly on his feet, before driving both of his swords into the construct's exposed side. Just as the points connected with the armoured flank, one of the monster's fists came swinging around, slamming him heavily on one side and throwing him to the ground.

Aiden only had a moment to orient himself when he caught a glimpse of its massive sword arcing high through the air, and he managed to twist his body out of the way just in time. He arched his back and flipped himself back onto his feet, then rushed past his opponent's thick metal legs, using its body to provide himself with a moment of cover.

The legionnaires had been slow and clumsy in spite of their power, but the Ironlord was proving to be nothing like its lesser cousins. It was agile, fast, and possessed an intelligence the others lacked. With blazing speed, Aiden pivoted and struck with each of his swords, slicing the armoured fiend again and again before he had to withdraw to avoid its blade.

A quick glance told him his assault had little effect upon its metal skin, aside from some minor scoring. The light around the edge of the soulsword wavered for a brief instant, before returning to full strength. Salinder was struggling to generate the power needed to pierce its armour, leaving Aiden to make up the difference.

A brief glimpse of light from the corner of his eye indicated Nellise was channelling divine power, and a feeling of growing confidence infused his being. Emboldened by the support, he charged in once more and spun around, holding his blades wide to repeatedly strike at his towering metal foe.

The clash of their weapons was furious as Aiden stepped up the speed and ferocity of the fight. The techniques and skills he had been infused with came to him easily now, and he whirled and cut at the Ironlord with precision and power he'd never felt before.

Aiden suspected the Ironlord's alien intellect was struggling to deal with his speed and agility, until it suddenly went on the offensive. During the opening of the fight, it had clearly been testing him, looking for weaknesses and planning a strategy. It began stepping in with each swing of its blade, shoving Aiden backwards again and again as it gained the upper hand.

He blocked the sword with crossed blades, then dashed backward as its fist came directly at him from the side, missing him by inches. Aiden was almost backed up against the wall of a building, but the furious assault of the ancient war machine was unrelenting, and he needed every bit of his borrowed skills to keep its savage weapon at bay.

Sensing he was cornered, Aiden ducked underneath a wild swing, only to be on the receiving end of the Ironlord's boot. He crashed through the wooden walls of the charred building and rolled to a stop, his head spinning from the impact. He felt that one of the warrior spirits mirroring his movements had vanished, taking the brunt of the blow with it.

The Ironlord's massive sword sundered the walls, bringing him back to reality in an instant. It was a lateral stroke, which would only have been a problem if Aiden had been standing at the time, but the meaning of this attack became obvious when the supports holding the ceiling up were sundered. Aiden scrambled backwards as wood and other heavy building materials came crashing down on him in a cloud of dirt and splinters.

He'd managed to avoid most of the debris, but gained a few bruises in the process. Realising the bad position he was in, Aiden burst out of the carnage and leaped over the shattered frame of the building, rolling in mid-air and landing lightly on his feet. The Ironlord crashed straight through the rubble and found itself on the receiving end of a flurry of sword strokes.

Aiden snarled as he delivered each stroke with immense force, and actually forced the Ironlord to stagger backward from the onslaught, raising one arm to protect its increasingly scarred torso.

It finally put an end to his cascading strikes when it caught Solas Aingeal in one armoured fist and tried to pull it from Aiden's grasp. He held fast and found himself hurled through the air, stopping only when he struck the stone wall of the keep, yards away.

Still held by his metal foe, Aiden brought Salinder down in a cutting strike, hoping to sever its arm but found the massive sword of his foe blocking his way. They held together for a long moment, the whine of protest from Aiden's gauntlet indicating the immense forces at work in their struggle.

He finally faltered, unable to maintain his grip on the holy blade as the immense power of the Ironlord's grip actually cracked the ancient auldsteel sword down the middle. It flashed with light one last time as the sword was tossed away.

With one hand free, Aiden pushed himself away and spun around, just in time to see the Ironlord raise its empty hand, palm first, and send a brilliant lance of light straight at him. Aiden felt Salinder take control of his arm for a moment, putting the soulsword into the path of the beam. The sword emitted a high-pitched squeal as the deadly ray was deflected up into the sky, shaking Aiden to the very core of his being.

The light around his sword went out completely for a long moment, and Aiden thought that might be it for his dragon ally, but it came back on again, dimmer than before.

"Thank you, old friend," Aiden murmured as he refocused upon his enemy, all too aware that next time that yellow beam came for him, there would be no protection. Trying a different approach, he noted some rubble from a ruined catapult nearby and charged directly at it. He ran up its length, sprang into the air and with both hands on Salinder's hilt, and dove at the Ironlord from above.

His sword sliced straight through the armoured shoulder and came out the other side, almost severing the arm used to shoot its deadly weapon. Aiden landed like a cat and continued the assault, wailing away with his sword in a style not seen in the world for centuries, keeping his slower adversary off balance with masterful strokes. Sparks began to spout from the great gouge he'd made in the Ironlord's arm, and with grim detachment he suspected it would soon be fully repaired.

Aiden felt a twinge of pain from his right hand, noting that the gauntlet was spewing increasingly thick smoke as it continued to heat up. Gritting his teeth, he continued the assault, scoring hit after hit as Salinder sliced into the chest and legs of his foe.

A brilliant beam of light suddenly engulfed Aiden, and he felt as if he was on fire. He screamed as the heat and light seared him, and when it finally ceased, he collapsed onto the ground, struggling for breath and wondering how he had survived it.

His answer came a moment later when he realized the knowledge and experience of the acadian elves was gone — the warrior spirits had protected him from the blast, sacrificing their existence to protect him. Aiden staggered to his feet and after deactivating his gauntlet, cast his eyes around, frantically searching for the immense bulk of his enemy.

Sensing it unwise to remain stationary, Aiden rushed through the smoky battlefield, using the fallen rubble as cover as he sought every advantage he could find. As he crouched down behind a pillar of charred brickwork, the remains of the building exploded as the Ironlord charged through, its sword sweeping towards him.

Aiden sprawled forward, barely avoiding the blade but falling flat on his face in the process. Its heavy metal boot kicked him, sending him skidding across the ground. Salinder slid from his hand, coming to rest several yards away while he clutched at his leg gasping in pain.

"Thy stolen power has fled thee," it intoned with its inhuman tenor as it loomed over him. "Left to thine own reserves of courage, thou findst thyself... lacking." Aiden peered up at the monstrous construct, noting with dismay all the damage he had inflicted upon it slowly diminishing as the Ironlord repaired its carapace.

Aiden was about to respond when a soft radiance filled the smoky air with light. He twisted around and looked in the direction it was coming from, as did his metal foe. What they saw, was quite simply, beautiful.

A glowing feminine figure hovered ten feet off the ground, wreathed in a white light that seemed to form wings around it. Aiden lifted a hand to shield his eyes from the intensity, and gaped in disbelief as he noticed the face of the being was familiar to him.

Nellise, empowered by a force Aiden didn't understand, lifted her arms and bathed the battlefield in a refreshing breeze, which blew away the stench of smoke and death. Aiden felt a resurgence of strength as the pain in his body subsided. Around the courtyard, the wounded and dying were feeling the same effect, healing over their wounds and bringing them peace and comfort.

The Ironlord evidently didn't appreciate this show of power, for it began to raise its hand towards the angelic figure, with the obvious intention of obliterating her with its devastating weapon. In an instant, Nellise's expression turned from peaceful, to one of anger.

With a sound like a chorus of angry angels, a bolt of heavenly fire exploded from her raised hands, engulfing the Ironlord and blasting it from its feet. A second bolt came at it with similar intensity, searing its metal hide and charring the ground around it. With this display of incredible power, the light faded from Nellise as she gracefully descended back to earth.

Above her, a glowing ball of light hummed for a moment, before completely vanishing from sight. She smiled faintly for a moment before slumping to the ground, unconscious. Aiden lay upon the battlefield, which, aside from the distant howl of mountain winds, had fallen quiet.

Scrambling to his feet, he rushed over and grasped Salinder by the hilt. Upon picking it up, the sword flared to life one last time. Aiden could practically sense the ebbing energy of the dragon spirit within, so he activated his still red-hot gauntlet, turned about, and with firm resolve charged at the still prone Ironlord. Sparks flashed as it began to repair itself, but Aiden wasn't about to give it the time it needed.

He leaped as high as he could, with the blazing light of Salinder raised above him and with a roar of defiance, brought the point of the soulsword down on the Ironlord's face.

Salinder flashed with light as the last of the dragon's energy crackled into the monster's head. The blazing red eyes went out as a shower of sparks shot forth, and after a moment of twitching, the Ironlord lay still.

Aiden wobbled unsteadily as he struggled to catch his breath, his eyes transfixed on the prone form of the immense construct before him. He dispelled the strength from his gauntlet, which was whining and smoking to an alarming degree. The rough old soulsword that had contained Salinder's spirit these past weeks seemed mundane once more, lacking any sign of power or life. A quick scan with his enhanced sight showed Aiden that it was completely devoid of magical energy. Salinder was no more.

Unsure what to do with himself, Aiden glanced around the courtyard, taking in the sheer destruction the Iron Legion had visited upon the fort. The twisted hulks of the constructs dotted the landscape, surrounded by piles of bodies, the fallen heroes of Highmarch who had given their all to end this threat to their homelands.

Aiden turned to regard Nellise, who seemed to be sleeping peacefully as she lay on the ground next to the keep. Sounds of life could be heard amongst the carnage as dozens of men and women stirred, saved from death by Nellise's intervention.

From behind, the sound of grinding metal caught Aiden's attention, a familiar sharp racket of sparks and metal fusing together. With a dreadful premonition, he slowly turned to see the Ironlord reach up with one hand and break the weathered old soulsword in half, tossing the hilt aside like so much garbage.

Aiden took a step backwards as the immense construct slowly regained its footing, its eyes blazing with light once again as it gradually repaired the damage it had sustained. Aiden couldn't take his despairing eyes from the damned thing, unable to comprehend the artifice required to create a machine that could survive such punishment.

"A worthy attempt," it grated through its metal helm. "But all for naught. The war goes on, as it always has."

On a reflex, Aiden touched his enchanted belt and spoke the word of power that would activate his spectral armour. Without the benefit of the acadian warrior spirits, his senses seemed sluggish in spite of the adrenaline pumping through his veins. The Ironlord swung its fist at him in an almost dismissive fashion, impacting directly on his chest.

Aiden was thrown aside, kept alive only by the protective enchantment. He landed heavily on the ground and skidded across the uneven surface, gasping for breath as the unstoppable juggernaut stomped towards the keep.

Unsure if the king had retreated by now, or if he and Criosa were still within the confines of the keep, Aiden reactivated his gauntlet and steeled his resolve before charging back in once more, leaving a trail of thick black smoke in his wake. He narrowly avoided its fist and connected with his own.

The ring of metal on metal echoed across the courtyard as the Ironlord crashed to the ground. Aiden kept moving, hoping to avoid any retaliation from his mighty foe and felt one of its arms narrowly miss him as he lunged forward.

He hurled himself physically at its chest, but his weight was insignificant and he simply fell on the ground as it stood. Sensing his vulnerability, Aiden rolled to one side as its fist slammed into the earth, then rose to one knee just in time to be punched in the chest.

Aiden flew through the air and crashed into the wall of the keep, momentarily stunned from the power of the impact. Aiden shook his head and snapped out of his stupor just in time to see the Ironlord raise its palm towards him. Hurling himself away from the wall with his augmented strength, Aiden was only clipped by the brilliant lance of light that shot past him, tearing up the keep and destroying his spectral armour in the process.

As he picked himself up off the ground, smoke rose from his charred clothing, a sure sign of how close he'd come to oblivion. He had risen to one knee when suddenly, the Ironlord was upon him, a huge metal fist drawn back ready to end his life in one swift blow. As it plunged toward him, he lifted his arm and caught the incoming fist with his gauntlet.

Aiden gritted his teeth as he held it in place, while the Ironlord put its full weight behind the assault, trying to crush him into the ground. Aiden's feet lost their purchase on the ground and he was pushed backwards, as the might of the construct simply overwhelmed him. His hand was beginning to burn from the heat of his gauntlet, which was screeching like a hornet under the load and he knew he had only moments left.

Aiden reversed his approach and pulled down on the immense metal arm, while stepping in and lifting with his other. The sheer weight of the construct hurtled forward and Aiden roared loudly as he heaved with all of his might, lifting the Ironlord over his head and sending it crashing through the wall of the keep.

The sound of the impact was deafening. Already damaged from the brilliant lance, the wall of solid stone bricks came tumbling down on top of the ancient war machine. Aiden stepped back as the entire southeast corner of the keep crumbled, burying the Ironlord under a small mountain of broken grey stone.

A cloud of dirt and debris erupted from the ruins, enveloping half of the courtyard in the process. Aiden coughed and struggled for breath, but as he stood amongst the destruction his gauntlet, white-hot and smoking, suddenly exploded.

Aiden screamed in pain and clutched at his charred arm. He fell to the ground, struggling for breath in the smoke-filled air and stifling the urge to cry out. Looking down, he saw his arm severely burned from the explosion and one of his smaller fingers missing.

As the smoke and dirt began to clear, he could see a few robed individuals moving amongst the wounded, doing what they could to keep people alive. As much as he wanted to seek aid, Aiden knew the fight wasn't over yet. Far worse had been thrown at the Ironlord before, yet it had risen up to continue fighting.

Aiden hobbled over the ruins and into the keep, down along the main hallway to see the king and his daughter rushing downstairs to see what had just happened.

"Aiden!" Criosa cried, rushing to him with her arms wide. He winced as she fiercely embraced him, but thankfully pulled back after a brief moment. "Dear God, you're a mess," she breathed as she took in his appearance.

"That hardly matters now," he croaked. "It's going to get back up again at any moment — you've got to evacuate the fort."

"I already ordered those of the cavalry still able to ride to escort civilians to Fenwick," King Seamus rumbled, drawing his sword as he leaned on Sir Leonard for support. "I will not retreat one step further,"

"He's right, Your Majesty," the stoic knight informed him. "No further good can come from your presence, or that of your daughter."

"It's bad enough I wasn't able to direct the fight, man — I won't bring shame to my family name by backing out now. Get Criosa out of here though, she doesn't need to be here any longer."

"I told you, I'm not leaving you, father!" she protested as she led Aiden over. Before anything more could be said, the rubble exploded upwards as the Ironlord arose from its tomb, sending broken pieces of stone and wood tumbling across the flagstone floor.

"Back away!" Aiden ordered, forgetting who he was addressing in his distress. He could barely walk, let alone continue the battle against a force that never tired, never stopped. Their small contingent hobbled through a nearby door into the Baron's chambers as they heard the Ironlord slowly approaching, the stone under its feet cracking with each step.

"No corner of this vast land will shield thee from mine righteous wrath," it intoned with a hollow voice, walking straight through the wall of the cosy sitting room. Criosa stifled a scream as it towered over them, its head bowed slightly to avoid the ceiling. Seamus grabbed her and pushed her behind him, trying to shield his daughter with his body.

"You have an intelligence I never expected from a soulless machine," he said, quelling his fear as he stood toe to toe with the massive construct, glaring defiantly up into its blazing amber eyes. "Will you listen to reason?"

"I cannot abide thy continued breath," it informed the king emotionlessly. "Long have I waited for this moment, locked away in the darkness for a century and more."

"Why are you doing this?" Criosa whimpered, her stoic façade crumbling.

"It was so ordered, and I must obey," the Ironlord intoned. Behind it, out in the hallway, Aiden saw the movement of a black robe. He struggled to maintain his composure at the sight of Terinus, returned at last. The black wizard held a finger to his grey lips, signalling for quiet. In his hand, he held the staff Aiden and the others had recovered from the desert, intact and fully repaired.

"Ordered by whom?" Seamus demanded, oblivious to the events taking place behind the Ironlord's immense bulk. Before it could answer, Terinus lifted the staff and pressed his fingers upon some of the runes upon its shaft. A strange whirring sound emerged from the construct, and for a moment Aiden held his breath, wondering what had just happened.

The Ironlord, sensing movement, turned and spied the wizard standing there. It swung a massive fist at him, impacting spectral armour Terinus had wisely incanted to protect himself. He still went tumbling through the air, losing his grip on the staff as he fell. While this happened however, Aiden noticed that something had changed on the construct's back.

A hatch had opened, revealing the dark innards of the machine standing before them. Aiden and Criosa stared at it in astonishment for a fleeting moment, until it turned around again and struck down the king and a robed priest in one swipe.

"What hast thou done?" it bellowed, attempting to reach around to its back with its oversized hands. Aiden wasn't exactly sure how to answer that question, but he suspected a weakness had just been revealed, a fact that was not lost on Criosa.

Distracted by the opened hatch, the Ironlord swung its bulk around at random, with the agile woman ducking and diving to avoid contact as she drew her rapier and maneuvered for position. From out in the hall, Terinus began an incantation and a moment later, Criosa began zipping about even faster than before, augmented by the wizards' powerful magic.

Aiden stumbled over to the king and saw he was still alive, although barely. The priest who lay next to him had been partially crushed in the attack, ending the poor man's life instantly. Aiden grabbed hold of the king's arm and pulled him over towards the fire, away from the continuing battle taking place only yards away.

Terinus was back in action, sending a bolt of lightning at the Ironlord. Not only did it have the usual effect of causing its limbs to judder and shake uncontrollably, but this time it arched backwards and let out a very human roar of pain. Aiden was dumbstruck for a moment, until it occurred to him that the construct's voice, along with its intellect seemed to point to a very obvious conclusion. Some aspect of the machine was human — and that meant that Robert's initial assumption had been right all along. It could be killed.

The Ironlord flailed ineffectually at Criosa with its massive arms, sundering brick and stone as her magic kept her one step ahead of the staggering construct. She suddenly winked out, and reappeared on its back, with her rapier poised to strike.

With one swift motion stabbed her weapon into the darkness of its interior. The Ironlord screamed as the princess withdrew her weapon and gasped. A deathly silence descended upon the scene as she took an uncertain step back, and a moment later a pale, claw-like hand emerged from within the cavity.

As Aiden watched, a thin, emaciated old man clawed his way out of the construct's unmoving metal shell, blood spilling from a wound in his chest as he gasped for breath. His tiny, withered frame collapsed on to the back of the Ironlord. A number of black cords wound their way from his bald scalp, back into the depths of the machine itself. With rheumy, squinting eyes he glared at the king with unnerving hatred for a long moment.

"Usurper... blaggard... I will never yield," he whispered with a broken voice, just before the light faded from his eyes and he moved no more.

There was naught but silence as everyone present stared at the scene, trying to make sense of it all. Terinus stepped into the office and stared down at their defeated enemy without a hint as to what he was thinking.

"I know that face," Criosa finally said, breaking the eerie silence.

"This man must be over a century in age, judging from his appearance," Terinus supplied in his rasping voice.

"Of course, that's who it is," Criosa said, pointing at the wall above the fireplace. Aiden looked and saw the portrait that still hung there, at an odd angle to be sure and clearly much younger, but without a doubt it was the same man. The caption on the portrait's frame read 'King Alaric I, founder of Aielund'.

"How can this be?" Aiden breathed, looking around at the others for answers that did not come.

Chapter Twenty-Three

As the sun sank below the horizon, Aiden and Nellise walked amongst the devastation of Highmarch. She had used what little strength she had left to heal the worst of his injuries, ensuring he wouldn't die from blood loss.

Light snow was falling onto the battlefield, dusting in white the twisted wrecks of the war golems, stopped at such an immense cost of life. The bodies of the fallen were gathered near the chapel, one of the few buildings within the courtyard to remain standing. Everyone able to move was herded inside the keep itself, for nightfall was fast approaching and the temperature was plummeting rapidly.

After the adrenaline had worn off, Aiden felt the full measure of his wounds. The sting of his lost finger hurt the most, but the burnt arm was a close second. The scrolls he had unleashed had filled Aiden with such energy as he had never known, and the abrupt cessation of the incantations gnawed away at his mind. Criosa had ordered him to rest in bed while she organized the clean-up operation, but there were a few important matters he had to attend to.

Amongst the survivors was Morik Far-Eagle, though he had been grievously wounded in the fight. Of his warriors, more than half had been slain during the fight. The women of Akora had willingly paid the ultimate price to stall the enemy advance, and Aiden looked at them with admiration.

"I've rarely seen such courage as they displayed today," he murmured to Nellise as the tall, proud women helped their chief move into the keep. A few of them saw Nellise and Aiden, and raised their hands in respect.

"They come from a resilient people," Nellise affirmed. "Few could have done their task better, and their return to Akora will undoubtedly have implications for their culture. For the better, I should hope."

"They can hardly get any worse."

"There is that," Nellise agreed. "Where are we heading?"

"Towards the battlements," Aiden rasped. "I need to know if our friends survived."

"I saw Robert moving around already, though I can't vouch for the others," she supplied. "Sayana least of all..."

"I know, I can't believe what happened either," Aiden whispered, stifling his sense of grief for the moment. They ambled around some of the wrecked constructs, whose broken bodies loomed over the scene as the survivors went about their work. Above, Sergeant Gordon MacTavish assisted the remaining members of his engineering teams to repair the wall. The dwarf glanced down and exchanged a nod of respect with Aiden before turning back to his work.

"Our elven friends are leaving," Nellise remarked, nodding towards the half-dozen elderly wizards who had survived the battle with Sayana. A glowing doorway of light had been created in the courtyard, through which the levitating bodies of their fallen where being sent. The price had been high, considering they were a dying people, but their efforts had bought them valuable time in the battle.

As the last of the Acadians was about to depart, he paused and turned to regard Aiden from beneath his grey hood. Nothing was said and no gestures were made, yet he had the distinct feeling he would never see them again.

"I think their debt to us is paid, and then some," Aiden said as the last of the wizards stepped through the glowing portal and vanished, the light from the portal leaving an after-image on his eye similar to if he had been looking at the sun.

"I had hoped we would foster a new era of cooperation, but I suspect they want nothing more to do with us," Nellise mused.

"Always with the best of intentions, aren't you?" Aiden said with a faint smile. "If I may ask... what happened to you during the fight?" he prompted curiously, recalling the strange power that had overcome her. Nellise hesitated for a long moment before answering.

"It's hard to describe in words," she eventually said. "I felt my weariness disappear and a voice spoke to me. I can't quite recall exactly what it said, but it needed to borrow my body for a few moments before it left. The presence merged with my mind and I experienced a feeling of such peace and tranquillity... it was an angel, Aiden, of that I am sure."

"Not that I'm complaining," Aiden remarked as they slowly made their way towards the wall, "but it just happened to show up at that exact moment, right when we needed it?"

"You didn't recognize it?" Nellise asked in surprise. "Aiden, it had been with us the whole time, living within Solas Aingeal. That's where the blade's power came from — the 'Angel of Light'. Only when the weapon was broken was it free to help in a more direct manner. It couldn't remain here for long, as it was depleted from so much time spent within the weapon, but it gave of itself so that we might endure."

"Solas Aingeal was one of the elven soulswords Salinder mentioned," Aiden breathed in sudden understanding.

"There can't be many of those swords left. Salinder is gone too, I presume?"

"He conserved his energy right until the end and struck a mighty blow," Aiden nodded, thinking of the last few times he had communicated with the dragon. "It wasn't enough of course, but it was a worthy effort. He was atoning for some mistakes he made in the past. I hope he can rest in peace, now that his task is complete."

"I heard mention that there was a man inside the Ironlord?" Nellise asked in disbelief.

"King Alaric the first," Aiden nodded. "I don't understand it either. Terinus is looking into it. We'll go have a word with them after we check on a few things. Over there, amongst the debris I think." They headed closer to the wall, to the last place he'd seen Spartan after his ferocious struggle again Sayana.

To his relief, they found the dragon still lying amongst the wreckage, his chest rising and falling slowly. He was a pitiful sight, having lost an entire wing and gained a lot of scars on his body.

"Spartan, I had thought the worst when I saw you fall," Aiden greeted the dragon, who cracked open an eyelid to regard him sleepily.

It would take more power than she had to destroy me, Spartan blustered, his voice sounding strong despite his appearance. I will confess that she had me worried for a moment. Please do not look at me with such pity, my wing will regrow in time, and my wounds will heal.

"I'm pleased to hear that," Nellise said. "If you're able to walk, I'm certain you'd be welcome within the keep. It's getting quite cold out here."

I shall avail myself of your hospitality, though it will be strange to take shelter with people who may have hunted my kind for sport in another time.

"Perish the thought," Aiden scoffed. "I overheard a lot of people talking about you on my way out. Your presence was inspirational, and without your aid I doubt we would have survived."

Thank you. Tell me, have you seen Pacian?

"Yes... I think he's around here somewhere," he hedged, unsure what condition he would be in. "Pacian appeared to have some sort of breakdown after killing Sayana, I don't think he's in a good place."

For what it's worth, I am sorry about Sayana, Spartan apologized. Her betrayal was inevitable — it was only a question of the timing. Do not blame her, for her actions were not of her choosing. Now, I will avail myself of shelter for a time, until I feel recovered enough to depart, Spartan declared, standing up and slowly moving towards the keep itself. A thought occurred to Aiden as he watched the small dragon limp towards the heavily damaged fort.

"Before he died, Salinder confided some of his secrets to me," he said, though the dragon did not stop. "There was only one of his young left alive when he was forced into service with Aielund. How old did you say you were again?"

I never mentioned my age, Spartan said, pausing for a moment to look back at him. But to answer your unasked question — yes, of course that was me. Without further comment, he continued onwards to the keep, where he was welcomed by the people making their way inside.

"How times change," Nellise murmured at the sight of a dragon abiding with humans. "A century ago, they would have been at each other's throats."

"I'll have a word with the king about this," Aiden mused. "I think it might be time for a ban on dragon hunting within Aielund's borders."

"That won't go down well with the Lords," Nellise suggested sadly, "but that's a battle for another day. Let's try and find Pacian, I need to speak with him."

"I'm right here," came the abrupt reply from the deepening shadows. Aiden turned to see Pacian's eyes glinting at him from the darkness, while the rest of him was hidden from sight.

"Thank God you're alive," Nellise breathed, setting Aiden aside so she could move to her lover. Pacian had other ideas, however.

"Don't come any closer, you might give away my location," he whispered harshly. "Besides... you wouldn't want to be seen consorting with a murderer."

"You had to do it, Pace," Aiden said, trying to reassure him. "Sayana was out of control and would have killed us all, if you hadn't stopped her."

"I wasn't talking about Sy," Pacian sobbed. "Those inquisitors are right — I killed one of their men."

"Oh Pace, why did you do it?" she asked.

"He was going to send you to the monastery whether you wanted to go or not, and in the end, he didn't give me a lot of choice in the matter. The bastard set a bunch of thugs on to me, so I had to kill them all. God... what have I done, I'm covered in so much blood."

"The inquisitor might have overstepped his authority," Nellise suggested, struggling to control the tears that began to run down her face. "We will have to investigate fully to—"

"I killed Tosh," Pacian blurted, interrupting her.

"... What?"

"Sloane MacAliese told me he was working for them, right before I rescued you. I ran into him, he was dressed in their clothes and I was so angry... and tired, God I couldn't even think so I just... I was lied to and manipulated because I'm just too stupid and paranoid. I believed her, that conniving bitch, and so I killed Tosh thinking he was a traitor, and I lied to you to cover up my mistake. I can't do it anymore, I just can't. I killed him, and the inquisitor, his thugs, those rapists back in Bracksford a little while back. It was all me — I'm a monster."

Aiden was speechless, as was Nellise. They could only stand there as Pacian poured his heart out, sobbing in the shadows as he confessed his many crimes.

"Yes, you are," Nellise finally said without emotion. "I knew something wasn't sitting well with you, but I never would have guessed you'd fallen so far."

"Well, you always knew I was a mess," Pacian chuckled morbidly. "You were right about everything, you know. All those things we talked about months ago when we first met. Here I was, trying to show you the error of your naïve ways, and all I did was destroy my soul."

Nellise stepped into the shadows and embraced him, allowing him to cry on her shoulder as all the pain came out in ragged gasps. Aiden felt rather self-conscious witnessing his epiphany and confession, and averted his eyes for a few moments.

"I wish I could have done more to help you," Nellise confided to Pacian as she stroked his ragged blond hair. "But your fate is out of my hands, now. When this comes out, they'll hang you for your crimes. Unless..."

"Unless what?" he asked.

"When you arrived here with Spartan before the fight, you spoke of wanting to do better. Do you truly wish to atone for your sins?"

"Nothing I do can bring back the people I've killed," Pacian sniffed. "I know that much."

"That isn't what I asked," Nellise insisted firmly.

"Yes, I want to do better, but it's too late now."

"There is a way," the cleric assured him. "Inquisitor White survived the battle, and as soon as he's well enough, he will discover that you've broken out of jail," Nellise explained hastily. "You will have to leave immediately, but if you are committed to redemption, there is a place for you with the Keepers of the Light."

"That place I was trying to keep you out of?" Pacian remarked in disbelief.

"It's the only way. You will have sanctuary there, so long as you do what the abbot says."

"The Stonegaard Mountains are a long way from here," Aiden cautioned.

"If you leave now, you might get enough of a head start to stay one step ahead of White," Nellise said.

"I can make it," Pacian responded, clearly at the end of his rope. "We won't be seeing each other for a long time, will we?"

"No Pace, I'm afraid this is the end for us. Go, now."

Pacian stood there considering his options for a long moment, staring back at Nellise. There was no mercy in her eyes, no more comfort to be had, so he withdrew into the shadows and disappeared. She turned away from the darkness and returned to Aiden's side. Mere moments later, her stern façade crumbled and she fell into Aiden's arms, crying her heart out.

"He made his own choices, Nel," he counselled her softly. "There was nothing more you could do about it." She didn't reply, but held onto him tightly as she dealt with the depth of her feelings. Aiden didn't envy their relationship, for even at the best of times, it had been tumultuous.

A large pile of broken wood and debris shifted nearby, as if someone underneath was struggling to find their way out. Aiden set Nellise aside and pushed the detritus away until a dusty hand appeared in the gap, then grasped hold and pulled the man free.

"Thanks, mate," Colt grunted as he slowly stood amongst the rubble. He reached down and grasped hold of someone else, and within moments the elven ranger Mona arose from the wreckage. They were both sporting a number of injuries, and her hair was matted with blood, but they were both still alive. "Are you okay, Mona?"

"Intact," the elf murmured, gingerly touching her head as she glanced around. "Did any of the other rangers survive?"

"Only five," Aiden informed them soberly. "I'm sorry for your loss. They were good people."

"It would have been less if I hadn't thrown us off the wall," Mona said ruefully. "I only had time to grab one person."

"... and you picked me?" Colt remarked uncertainly. "Commander Armin was next to you as well, if I recall correctly."

"I only had a heartbeat to make a decision," she informed him, gazing at him with her large green eyes. "I chose the person I couldn't live without." This hung in the air for a long moment, until Colt finally wrapped her in a huge bear hug.

"Easy there, you don't want to break anything," Aiden advised, though he was fairly certain his words were falling on deaf ears. When Mona was finally released, Colt turned to Aiden with a far more serious look on his grizzled features.

"What the hell happened to Sy? I can't believe she was working with the enemy."

"I think the Ironlord took her over," Aiden attempted to explain. "It's a long story, but those tattoos of hers are linked to it, somehow. She couldn't stop herself, so don't take it personally."

"The poor woman," Mona empathized.

"And Pacian was the one to bring her down, why am I not surprised."

"Easy, Colt, there was no other way," Aiden said.

"Don't stand up for him, mate, I overheard everything he said just now," Colt growled, drawing a gasp from Nellise.

"What are you going to do?" she asked hesitantly.

"He's a murderer and escaped criminal," Colt grated. "I'm going to do my job and bring him in. That bloody inquisitor will have to get in line, 'cause when I get my hands on Pacian, he's going to remember what I said to him back in Culdeny when you left for Fairloch. I'm a man of my word, Nel, so don't give me that look."

"You can barely stand up," Aiden pointed out.

"Neither can he," Colt assured him with cold clarity. "Why don't you head back inside Mona, I've gotta get on his trail or I'll never catch him. I hate it when I'm right about people..."

"I'm coming with you, idiot," Mona chastised him. "I didn't save your life just so you could run off again."

"No objections here," Colt replied. He gave Aiden a brief nod as the two rangers quickly set off towards the north gate.

"Pace has a bit of a head start on them," Aiden assured Nellise. "They'll never catch him."

"That's not what I'm worried about," Nellise whispered. "If they find him, he might try and kill again."

"It's out of our hands now. Come on, we're not quite done here yet, and I'm going to have to fall over sometime soon," Aiden said, nudging her to continue half-carrying him through the debris.

Eventually, she regained some semblance of self-control and without saying a word, began to help Aiden towards the parapet stairs. Most of the wall on the eastern side had fallen during the battle, but there was one location that still stood, and was now the resting place of someone very dear to him. Aiden wasn't sure how he was going to react at the sight of Sayana's body, but he had to see her, one last time.

Ahead of them, just past the stairs, was the southern gatehouse — or what was left of it. Dwarven engineers were clearing some of the rubble, allowing travel to resume through the southern entrance. To Aiden's surprise, he saw Robert Black attaching saddlebags to a powerful warhorse. The survivors of the soldiers from Trinity were gathering near him too, and Aiden could sense something was going on.

"I wasn't expecting to see you on your feet so soon," Aiden remarked as they approached the mercenary. Robert half-turned and took a puff from his cigar, regarding them for a moment before continuing to secure the leather straps.

"I always keep a little healing draught on hand for emergencies," Robert explained gruffly. "I was going to give you a hand against the Ironlord until I saw the magnitude of your fight and thought, 'bugger that'. That was the most impressive fighting I've seen from anyone ever, mate. Except maybe yours truly, of course."

"The benefits of centuries of tactical training distilled into a potent incantation," Aiden explained deprecatingly. "Not to mention the sword I was carrying. I was merely the vessel for greater powers. Are you leaving so soon?" Aiden asked, pointing at the filled saddlebags. "You still need some time to recuperate."

"I've served my time in hell mate, now I get to reclaim my life," Robert explained gruffly. "The princess just informed me that I've been officially pardoned for my part in the attack on Culdeny. I'm a free man. I'll get some rest when I'm clear of this place."

"You're kind of a hero to these people," Aiden pointed out. "I think there would be an opening for you in the Kingdom Guard, if you wanted it."

"I don't," Robert answered simply. "That bloody inquisitor has it in for me, and I'm not sticking around to see if he's going to make trouble. Captain Freeman wants some help securing Trinity from looters, and he wanted to get back there as soon as possible, and frankly I need the money." The dark-skinned captain nodded his accord from nearby, giving Aiden a salute as he did so. "Besides," Robert added, "the war is over now. I'll get bored pretty quickly in peacetime."

"How can you be so quick to rush back into another conflict, after everything you've been through?" Nellise asked incredulously.

"I know what I'm about, Nel," Robert stated, looking over the ruined battlefield with his piercing blue eye. "'To thine own self be true', yes?"

"'Each to his own' would also apply," Nellise nodded. "I may not understand, but I respect your decision.

"The Crown could probably supply you with some gold if that would change your mind," Aiden offered.

"Your Kingdom is flat broke," Robert snorted. "You'll be lucky to survive the next month without riots in the streets of Fairloch."

"Fair point," Aiden muttered, realizing there was still much to be done in the aftermath of the war. "Look, we seem to be dancing around the subject, but I wanted to offer my con—"

"Don't say it," Robert growled, glaring at Aiden, sensing he was about to discuss Sayana's death. "It wouldn't be the first time I fell in love and had it snatched away. Look at it this way — if she was alive, do you think they would let her keep living, after all the death she caused? And what about her? She'd have to live with those deaths on her conscience."

"I suppose you're right," Aiden was forced to agree.

"Just remember this, mate — they can't get to her now. She's as free as I am," he said with a wink. He paused for a moment as he gripped the saddle, his head bowed as some form of human emotion made its way to the surface.

"Take care of yourself, Robert," Aiden said with a wave. "As it turns out, you're not quite the heartless killer we thought you were."

"Yeah I am," Robert confessed. "I was just working on your side for a while. Look after yourselves — you're good people. Don't forget what I told you about Criosa, Aiden, she could still break your heart. I'll see you around, maybe." Then he mounted up and with a nod to his former companions, nudged his horse forward with the men and women of the Trinity guards following along in single file.

"He's suppressing his feelings," Nellise confided to Aiden after Robert was out of earshot. Aiden was thinking over what Robert had said, and noticed something strange with his choice of words. With a sudden surge of hope, he pushed himself away from Nellise and hobbled up the stairway to the top of the wall.

"Aiden, what's wrong?" Nellise cried, following along as fast as she could. When he reached the top of the stairs, he was forced to invoke his arcane light to see properly, but what he saw took his breath away.

Sayana's body wasn't there. All that remained on the stonework was Pacian's vythiric dagger, and a dark bloodstain on the ruined wall. His mind working rapidly, Aiden looked over the wall and saw the column of men walking towards the south. Trusting his instincts, he narrowed his vision and shifted his sight, staring at Robert's horse. There, on the back, was a small, feminine figure with her arms wrapped securely around the mercenary's waist.

"She's alive," Aiden almost laughed as he recognized her silhouette. "I don't know how, but she's alive." Nellise joined him on the parapet but couldn't see what he could. "Don't bother, she's invisible," Aiden confided.

"Perhaps it was our angelic friend, who sent out a pulse of healing energy before departing?"

"She was regenerating with unnatural speed once the Ironlord took over her, too," Aiden agreed. "Robert was double-talking the whole time, the wily bastard."

"Then what he said about Sayana is all too true — the inquisition thinks she's dead, yet she can never return to Aielund," Nellise surmised. "She's going to have to live with her actions today, even if she wasn't responsible."

"She'll make it," Aiden said. "They're together now.

"Love finds a way," Nellise said with a wan smile.

On returning to the keep just after sunset, Aiden headed directly for the lord's chambers. Along the way, he passed through the huddled throng of survivors who occupied the keep's inner chambers, far from the southern wing which was exposed to the elements. There weren't any celebrations or cheers — there was only a sense of relief that they had survived a battle they hadn't expected to live through.

When they reached the room where their fallen enemy was being examined, he could see Desmond and Sahar making notes and examining the metal construct closely. Alaric's body had been laid on the floor nearby and covered with a blanket, the bloodstains still evident from where Criosa's rapier had ended his life. Desmond noticed Aiden and Nellise peering in through the doorway, and advised them to rest while they continued their post-mortem, closing the door to emphasize his point.

"You know, I can still see you," Aiden called through the gaping holes in the stone wall made during the final battle against the Ironlord. "And this door is hanging by one hinge. I could walk right though—"

"Confound your impertinence, Sir! Go and sleep!" Desmond commanded grumpily, cursing under his breath and shooing them away. Resigned to waiting until morning for answers, the two knights found a place to rest in a small guest room and slumped against the wall near the fireplace. They each took solace in the company of the other, although Aiden's thoughts were of Criosa, and he was certain Nellise was thinking of Pacian, running for his life through the cold night.

* * *

Aiden awoke to the restorative prayers of his beautiful companion, and found the room packed with wounded dwarves and Akoran women. When the healing was complete, he was pleased to find he could move around without her aid once more, though the burns on his arm itched horribly.

Nellise suddenly found herself the centre of attention as the Akoran women around her began asking about the astonishing transformation she had undergone. Her conduct back in the Akoran lands had, in a way, spurred a liberation of the women in their society from their traditional roles, and they had endless questions to ask of her.

Leaving Nellise to speak with her new friends, Aiden hurried through the keep towards the lord's chambers. The place was bustling with servants and civilians hurrying to provide food and supplies to the wounded, and Aiden almost collided with more than one person on the way to his destination.

Curtains had been placed over the gaping holes in the wall surrounding the lord's chambers, but Aiden braved the rickety door itself, which groaned ominously as he made his way inside. To his astonishment, the Ironlord had disappeared, replaced with a rather tidy morning breakfast scene, arranged on several small tables.

"Typically, it is customary to announce one's presence before barging into a king's chamber," Seamus remarked dryly from a large chair near the fireplace, sipping on a cup of hot broth. Criosa sat next to him, a bemused look on her face. "But in your case, I shall make an exception."

"My apologies, Majesty," Aiden stammered, bowing low. "I wasn't expecting you to be here... I mean, I thought you'd be resting in the bedroom, not that I thought you were dead or anything."

"Are you sure he's as smart as you said, sweetie?" the king casually asked Criosa. "He sounds like any other young man I've met."

"You're an intimidating presence, father," Criosa chastised him playfully. "Give him some credit — he faced off against the same foe you fought for weeks and lived to tell about it."

"Yet he finds me intimidating?" Seamus grumbled as his daughter gave him an imperious glance.

"Good morning, Sir Aiden," Criosa greeted him pointedly. "I trust you are feeling better?"

"It'll take more than one night's rest to recover," Aiden replied politely. "I am pleased to see you're well, Majesty. After last night, I feared the worst."

"Thanks go to God' servants for providing me with healing in my time of need," the king said dismissively, rising from his chair to stand before Aiden. He seemed even taller than when they had first met somehow, and his still-visible bruises added a certain hardness to his features. "You are no doubt wondering what happened to the metal fiend. Rest assured, it hasn't gone far. Terinus and Dean Foster were able to move it with magic early this morning, relocating it to a place more appropriate for study."

"Of course," Aiden nodded, wishing he could think of something more relevant to say.

"Their findings so far are limited, but I think we can easily figure out how the first king of Aielund wound up inside that monstrosity."

"We can?"

"Yes, please have a seat," Seamus offered. Aiden sat close to Criosa, who reached over and began lightly caressing his hand.

"History tells us that Alaric, having founded the Kingdom, learned of an archaeological find out in the Hocarum Desert. Despite the wishes of his advisors, he gathered together a group of learned individuals and sought this place out, leaving the realm in the hands of his eldest son."

"Clearly, what they had discovered led to the Ironlord itself, in that old edifice Criosa mentioned you recently explored. He climbed inside of it and was corrupted, either instantly or over time. That part of it I do not fully understand, nor do I know why it took nearly eight decades before he started to destroy the surrounding lands."

"The floor had given away under the place where the Ironlord would have been standing," Aiden explained, forgetting his place in his enthusiasm for the subject. "If he was inside at the time, he would have fallen deep into the earth. Perhaps it took him that long simply to escape. I don't understand how it turned him into a monster either, and none of this explains how it has shown up time and time again throughout history, long before Alaric found it."

"Terinus may uncover more in the coming days and weeks," Seamus suggested, moving to change the subject. "For now, there is a more pressing matter to discuss, that of my daughter's questionable taste in men."

"Father, please!" Criosa protested as Aiden suddenly felt very uncomfortable.

"Forgive my levity, Sir Aiden, I find myself filled with a lightness and joy I have not known in years," Seamus explained with a sly grin. "Criosa had been betrothed to the eldest son of King Evariste of Tulsone, but since we came to blows, that is no longer an option."

"Are we still actually at war with Tulsone?" Aiden inquired.

"Technically yes, but neither side has much of a standing army left," Seamus explained. "I will do what I can to extend an offering of peace to our western neighbours, and hope they will see the wisdom in leaving this unpleasant business behind us. This does however, leave my daughter without a suitor."

"How will I ever survive?" Criosa murmured sarcastically. Her eyes sparkled at this news, however,

"I don't appreciate your tone, Criosa," her father said grimly. "It is of paramount importance to the continuation of our family line that you wed and produce an heir. Preferably, several heirs, something I failed to accomplish in my years as monarch. That's where you come in, Sir Aiden. My daughter seems to have taken a liking to you, which undoubtedly played a part in her decision to bestow a knighthood upon you."

"In her defence, I did save her life on more than one occasion," Aiden pointed out, then wished he hadn't spoken as the king gave him a dark look.

"I was also trying to honour Sir William, and keep his Order alive," Criosa added delicately.

"In any case," the King went on, "this is the first time we've had to meet and talk, Aiden. I am hardly going to allow my daughter to marry a man who is something of a stranger to me, and frankly, even a knight is beneath your status, Criosa. What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking that I love him, father," she stated plainly. The king's weary eyes softened at this statement and he mused on this silently for a long moment. Aiden took Criosa's hand with his own and exchanged a look of profound adoration with her that made him blush.

"Children," Seamus ruefully muttered into his beard. "Fortunately, a solution has presented itself. Lord Alastair wishes to retire to his family estate, leaving Highmarch without a lord. Due to your stellar conduct over the last few months, and your apparent desire to sacrifice all for Aielund, it would give me great pleasure to bestow the title of Baron of Highmarch upon you, Aiden. It's still not worthy enough for my daughter, of course, but it will give you a chance to learn what you will need to know if you are to become Criosa's husband someday."

Aiden had no words to respond with, and simply stared back at the king in silence. Criosa had a different reaction, however. She leaped out of the chair and engulfed her father in powerful embrace, almost crushing the poor man to death in the process.

"Furthermore," Seamus went on after he had extricated himself from Criosa's death hug, "it would be unseemly to simply wed a princess of the realm out of the blue. Therefore, should you accept this offer, when you can find time away from your duties here at the fort, you will publically court Criosa for a time, perhaps a year or two, and then we will have another discussion about a wedding. Do you find these terms agreeable, sir?" Aiden nodded silently, overwhelmed at the scope of his reward.

"Well speak up man, don't just nod your head like some sort of dog!"

"I accept, Majesty," Aiden blurted, and then found himself on the receiving end of Criosa's crushing embrace.

"Easy now, girl, you don't want to kill the man before you have a chance to bear me some grandchildren."

"Father!" Criosa exclaimed, blushing bright red at his statement. The King simply rumbled a loud chuckle and for a moment, Aiden could forget about the horrors he had witnessed. With the fall of the Ironlord, he felt a great weight lifting from his shoulders, an onerous presence he didn't even realise he was carrying around. Against the odds, he had survived his ultimate challenge more or less intact and with a bright future to look forward to.

"Now then, that's enough of such talk for now," Seamus said. "We have all been through dark times, and I would put all of that behind us. I will have a proper breakfast brought out for you, Aiden, while we get to know each other a little better. You can start by regaling us with the story of how you came from nowhere to become a pivotal figure in this conflict."

Aiden reclined in his chair and gathered his thoughts for a moment, then pulled out the crystal shard that was still hanging around his neck and the worn little box that was the Lexicon, inside of which were so many secrets yet to be discovered.

"It all started on my thirteenth birthday," he began...

Epilogue

Later that night, Terinus, the king's wizard waited somewhat impatiently in the library, his eyes hidden within the shadows of his hood as he paced back and forth near the remains of the Ironlord. The fire burned low and the sound of the mountain winds could be heard through the windows, enough to convince any ordinary man it was time to seek out their bed.

Terinus was far from ordinary, however. He had dismissed Desmond and Sahar hours before, and continued the examination of the relic on his own until the darkest hour of the night, driven to unravel the secrets of the construct before him.

The sound of soft footfalls and the flicker of candlelight down the hallway signalled the approach of his guest.

"It is late Terinus, and I am weary from my long trials," sighed King Seamus as he entered the fort's small library. He was wearing his nightclothes and was attempting to rub the sleep from his eyes. "Make it good."

"My apologies, Majesty," the wizard rasped, bowing respectfully. "I assure you, my reasons for summoning you at this late hour will become apparent."

"Are you still fooling around with that thing?" Seamus muttered, glancing with distaste at the inert construct that lay upon the floor. "You should finish up your examination and determine a way to destroy it, or at the very least dismantle it. It could still be dangerous."

"We are quite safe," Terinus assured the king. "Without Alaric to control it, it is no threat. In fact..."

"I am far too tired for your usual theatrics, Terinus," Seamus sighed in exasperation. "If you have something to say, say it."

"Very well. I have concluded the Ironlord is not like any other golem we have encountered."

"We already knew that — golems generally don't have men riding around inside of them."

"Correct," Terinus agreed. "This means that what you see here is nothing more than an advanced suit of armour. You could, in fact, wear it yourself with no ill effect."

"Are you serious, man?" the king hissed, trying to keep his voice low. "The last person to sit inside of it was insane. You cannot know for certain that this... device didn't drive Alaric mad."

"The man had been wearing it for centuries, not to mention trapped on another plane of existence," Terinus pointed out. "I believe it is far more likely that events drove him over the brink, rather than some deleterious effect of this ancient contraption. I have sat inside it myself with no ill-effects to speak of."

"I have my doubts, but even if this is true, why summon me here now?"

"Because we have a unique opportunity," Terinus explained in his dry voice, walking around the metal bulk to stand before his King. "We have captured, intact, a war machine from a long-forgotten people. If this was to fall into the wrong hands, we would face a new war, all over again."

"But you have the staff," Seamus pointed at the ancient staff Terinus carried in one hand.

"And if someone were to take this as well? How then would we stop the machine next time?"

"What are you suggesting?"

"Take it for yourself," Terinus implored him. "With this power under your control, you could use it to ensure the peace. Tulsone wouldn't dare face us with this at the vanguard of our armies, and we would be secure from any other form of attack for the foreseeable future. This security could usher in a golden age for Aielund — all you have to do is try it on."

Seamus looked down at the construct with disdain for a long moment, weighing up the possibilities in his mind.

"Considering what we've just gone through, I think it behoves us to acquire the means to defend the kingdom against future threats," he stated, his voice still hinting at an unspoken concern. "The image of myself or one of my knights—"

"No, only you, sire," Terinus instructed. "You cannot allow a lesser man to wield this sort of power."

"Alright, the sight of me walking around in this might cause problems in the long term. I believe your idea has merit, but I want a more thorough examination conducted upon our return to Fairloch."

"Of course, sire, anything you wish," Terinus replied with a bow.

"Get some sleep, then have it prepared for transport tomorrow night, when nobody will see. I want this information to be held in the strictest confidence, and if I feel it's too risky, I want you to destroy it. Am I clear?"

"Indeed, Majesty," Terinus rasped. "Rest well, and we will speak of it again tomorrow." King Seamus turned and left the library, returning to his chambers to sleep for the remainder of the night. Terinus waited for his footsteps to recede, and then pulled a small, gleaming metal box from a pocket in his dark robes.

With a flick of one gloved finger upon the immaculate, reflective surface, the image of an ephemeral book appeared above the box, filled with pages of the ancient language belonging to the people that crafted it. He leafed through the glowing pages until he came across a diagram identical to the Ironlord, and resumed his research. Only the empty room saw the mirthless smile crease his ancient features.

About the Author

Stephen L. Nowland resides in Frankston, Australia, where he spends his time creating stories, games and art to astound and entertain.

http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/sln

Further information on this novel and upcoming titles can be found at his website, and you can follow his progress on Facebook and Twitter.

https://www.facebook.com/stephenlnowland

 www.stephenlnowland.com.au

@stephennowland

The Aielund Saga

Soldiers of Winter

Soldiers of Avarice

Soldiers of the Crown

Soldiers of Ruin

Soldiers of Legend

Soldiers of Tyranny

Soldiers of the Heavens

Other titles by the same author

The Ballard Trilogy

In the Wake of War

The Fortress of Gold

Upon the Ashes of Empire

