A chapter entirely from the point of view of anyone but Caoilfhionn, because he’s taking a damn nap during LW3.

Contents:
– 1: Putting the World Back Together
– 2: Four Moms and a Dragon
– 3: Sassafrass

Part 9: The Strength to Fight

 

1: Putting the World Back Together

Damara sighed contently over her hot chocolate in Salma’s Mug. It was so good to be back home! And the world would take care of itself for at least a few weeks – at least, it had better, because she didn’t want to go anywhere for a bit. And she knew everyone else in Hope’s Legacy felt the same.

She’d missed Wintersday, but Petra had forgiven her, was just glad to have her back, especially after she described everything in the Heart of Maguuma. And she was really, really glad to see the rest of her pets, to introduce a couple new ones to the farm, a tiger named Will and a couple of young wyverns named Night and Force. She hoped they would do okay outside of the jungle, where it was a bit colder and less humid in the winter. But as she lavished love and affection on them, and listened attentively to their needs, they didn’t seem to mind the change in location. That was the key to having so many exotic companions – to listen to them, and tell them what was unacceptable behavior, and cuddle them when they wanted it. That went for people too, she supposed.

They’d sent the Pact home; some had asked if they were getting a new Marshal, with Trahearne taking his very well-deserved nap with his loving husband, but there hadn’t been any consensus between senior leadership when they met to discuss it before splitting up. Annhilda had shook her head. “I’m not sure I want to even retain second-in-command privileges. This campaign was incredibly stressful. Kudos to Trahearne for running two of them, but I might withdraw to save the world in my own way from now on.”

“I don’t believe I’m eligible, as I’m already second-in-command of the Vigil,” Laranthir had said. “What about you, Damara? Phiadi?”

She had blinked. “Um. I don’t think I’m cut out for that sort of all-powerful role.”

And even Phiadi had hesitated. “I would love to! …But I need to talk to some people first.”

“Well, there’s no need to make a decision right now,” Annhilda had said. “We’ll each lead our respective Orders home and take a rest. The Order heads can decide if they want to do this again. There’s no new Dragons being belligerent yet.”

“Don’t jinx it,” Damara had teased her, and then when they reached Lion’s Arch, had helped Laranthir bring the Vigil back to their Keep before heading west to home, finally. She was really excited to catch up with Petra and Andrew, and a bunch of fanmail had built up while she was away. It was still thrilling to get fanmail, even after almost three years since she’d become a hero.

The chime sounded on the door as she sipped her hot chocolate, and a customer came in, stamping snow from his boots and blowing on his hands. “Ahh, what a wonderful thing it is to be in out of the cold… Lady Damara!”

“Lord Faren,” she said, with as much surprise as him. “What brings you here?”

“Why, I was visiting on your behalf, of course! You asked me to.” He came to grab a stool at the bar beside her, beaming proudly.

She was still confused. “I asked you to let them know I was okay, and that was weeks ago. Did you not get around to it until…”

“No, no, I came as soon as I got back! And since then, I’ve been visiting to keep your lovely friend company. She’s very charming, and I had to come reassure her that you would be fine. But of course, now you’re back! Why didn’t you come let me know?”

“Hey, Petra,” Damara called. “Has Lord Faren been a pain?”

“No,” Petra said, bringing over a glass of wine to him – without being asked, Damara, noted suspiciously. “He’s been very friendly. But not, you know, too friendly.” Damara relaxed again.

“Thank you, fair Petra,” Faren proclaimed, and raised his glass to her. “I aim only to please!”

“Anyway, I only just got back a couple days ago,” Damara told him. “I’m glad you made it back safely. How are your… companions?”

“We all made it back safely, thank the Six,” Faren said. “Through trials and dangers we emerged unscathed! -Through the aid of the Pact in the Silverwastes, as well as my courage and skill, naturally. Jasmina, however, has given over association with me. I think she’s still mad. I don’t really know why, I said I was sorry… Merula, though, is an absolute jewel-”

Damara tuned him out for a bit. It was enough to know that all the silly ponces who’d gone into the Heart of Maguuma had come back out, and Divinity’s Reach had not been thrown into grieving or unrest based on Faren’s foolishness. It was still a bit distracting, to have him sitting right next to her, so cheerful and loquacious and broad-shouldered, even if he was currently talking about people who didn’t interest her.

“But enough about me!” Faren eventually said. Had he switched back to talking about himself? She hadn’t noticed. Oops. “Tell me of your struggle with the Dragon! Was it fearsome? Were you dashing? Of course you were dashing.”

She had to laugh a bit. “I didn’t actually get to fight the Dragon myself. I held off the Mordrem while Caoilfhionn and Caithe and Canach and Braham went in. It was kind of scary, yeah, especially when we all thought it was going to take over Trahearne and we’d have to fight it all over again and lose Trahearne in the process… but Caoilfhionn saved him too, the absolute madlad.”

“You told it better yesterday,” Petra said. “Go on, start at the beginning.”

Damara gave Petra a ‘what gives?’ look, because while she could have told the story better, she didn’t think Faren was worth starting from the beginning for, but Petra egged her on with her own looks, so she shrugged. “All right, well, back when the Pact launched, we were actually trying to find Caithe because she’d run off with something very important…”

---

Annhilda strolled up to the Stonewright’s Steading with her welcome-back gift tucked under her arm – smoked meats from her family, and a new chisel she’d wrangled from a colleague at the Priory. Many Norn and others were already gathered there, skaalds, sculptors, havrouns, and Knut of course. Though, as she looked around, she didn’t see Braham anywhere.

Knut greeted her. “Hail, Slayer! Good to see you. I knew you wouldn’t miss this.”

“Of course not,” Annhilda said, smiling. “Where’s Eir? Is everyone mobbing her at once like you did me that one time?”

Knut cleared his throat. “No, we’re trying to keep everything orderly. She’s… well, perhaps you’d best speak to her yourself. She’s inside right now. But before I forget, congratulations on your victory! That’s two now!”

“The Spirits smiled upon us,” Annhilda said. “Long may the skaalds sing of it!”

“Forever and a day! But don’t let me keep you. Help yourself to food and ale!”

“Thanks, Knut,” Annhilda said, and moved on, grabbing a mug as he suggested before moving on to the conspicuous blindfolded Charr holding forth near the door.

“She had him dead to rights, and we all knew it,” Rytlock boomed. “And what was he going to do? Beg? Plead? Wasn’t his style, and Eir wouldn’t buy it anyway, so he just jumped off the ledge! Well, she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of escape – even to his death; she shot him before he hit the ground!” He laughed and slapped his leg. “Damn, that Norn knew how to exact revenge!”

The youngsters he was regaling laughed too, and cheered. “Well-told,” Annhilda told Rytlock. It wasn’t in the style of the skaalds, but what did it matter? It was a story from Eir’s own pack-mate.

“Yeah, well, everyone was getting a little too hung up about Eir’s new disability, including Eir,” Rytlock said. “Thought I’d remind everyone she’s had a life-time of taking no tripe from anyone, and I don’t expect her to start now, legs or no.”

“Sounds about right,” Annhilda said. “Have you seen her already?”

“Yeah, but I’ll come in again with you. I’ve got stuff to talk to both of you about, anyway.”

“All right.” Annhilda went in, and others graciously made way for her and waved her in, even though they were lined up already, calling her Slayer.

There was Eir, sitting in a wheelchair, out of armour, Garm’s head resting on her knee. She didn’t look right, just sitting there in normal clothes, and there was an air of defeat about her, though she was trying to hide it. But she brightened to see Annhilda. “Annhilda! Good to see you. Get over here.”

“Eir!” Annhilda cried. She ran forward to give Eir a hug. “Brought you a token of my regard.”

“Why, thank you,” Eir said, accepting the package. She heaved a sigh. “I’ve got too many gifts. And I didn’t even do anything.” She glanced towards a table piled high with similar packages. “I won’t walk again. I intended to retire, but to have my legend cut short like this… I can’t talk to just anyone about it, but I can tell you – it sucks dolyak sweat.”

“You killed Faolain,” Rytlock said. “You survived the jungle, even if you never fight again.”

“And that’s more than many can say,” Eir said, nodding. “Doesn’t mean I deserve all this… adulation.”

Annhilda crossed her arms, disagreeing. “I know you’d wish for your retirement to be on your own terms, but no one can drag you out to fight any more bloody dragons now.”

“True, true. Except Braham thinks he has to do it for me, and… well, I’d hoped we’d be able to spend more time together, but he’s run off to do just that.”

“Huh? Is that why I haven’t seen him?”

Eir nodded. “He’s out in the wilderness somewhere, trying to find a way to take down Jormag. I tried to tell him to slow down, but he’s as reckless and headstrong as I used to be.”

Annhilda nodded. She could imagine Braham seeing his mother, once proud and strong, now helpless and upset over being helpless, and seizing upon the thought of continuing her legacy with both hands. He probably didn’t want to come to the party since it was, in a way, an acknowledgement of Eir’s fall. “He’ll calm down eventually. We just have to be patient.”

“Well, I have lots of time to practice that now,” Eir said. “This is probably the end of Destiny’s Edge, though.”

Rytlock nodded. “With Zojja and Logan out of the field, and Snaff gone, and Caithe… Well…”

Eir looked up at him unhappily. “I’m sorry, Rytlock. We were the best team.”

“Yeah, but there’s no sense in looking back.” Rytlock shrugged.

“Maybe it’s time to start again,” Eir said, looking between him and Annhilda.

Annhilda looked confused. “If Rytlock wants to join Hope’s Legacy, he’s more than welcome.”

“I’m not joining a guild named Hope’s Legacy,” Rytlock growled. “Who named it, Caoilfhionn?”

“He was the strongest proponent of those particular words, but we all had a hand in it, the original five of us,” Annhilda said. “We modeled it after Destiny’s Edge, because why not?”

“Yeah, but Destiny’s Edge is badass. Hope’s Legacy is… foofy.”

Annhilda put her hands on her hips. “Do you have any other objections than the name? We can change the name. I’ll ask everyone. Except Caoilfhionn, since he’s out of commission right now.”

Eir laughed. “Rytlock won’t admit it, but he’s dying to join you. I’ve gathered he enjoyed fighting at your side through the Maguuma.” Was that what he wanted to talk about?

“Oh, shut up,” Rytlock said. “They’ve got good fighters, and you’re a good guild leader, Annhilda. Probably better now that you’re dropping the Pact Commander thing.”

“Thanks,” Annhilda said. “How about… Dragon’s Watch?”

Rytlock snuffled. “Acceptable.”

“I’ll ask the others,” Annhilda said. “Can’t imagine most of them will object. You’re right, Caoilfhionn might, but who knows when he’ll be back? He’s a loyal Wolf pup, though, he’ll stick with us even if he doesn’t like the name.”

“Good,” Eir said. “Your guild has done great things, Annhilda, and I know you’ll go on to do many more.”

Annhilda smiled at her. “Thank you, Eir. But I don’t think you’re really done yet, either. Once you find your bearings, you’ll be a force to be reckoned with as you always have been – just in a different way.”

“That’s… kind of you to say,” Eir said, looking away. Garm whined at her. “Can’t say I can see it just yet, but Raven is with you, so I’ll trust you… Like you used to trust me.”

Annhilda shook her hand. “Raven himself would be proud to tell your legend. I’ll visit as often as I can, if you would like.”

“I… would like, yes. Spirits go with you, Annhilda.”

---

Annhilda, Damara, Phiadi, and Rhyoll had convened with Rytlock to visit Taimi and Wegaff in Rata Novus; as Annhilda had thought, none of them was fussed about the name change, and everyone was excited about Rytlock joining, especially Rhyoll. Mostly. “He’s gonna ride my tail about getting into the field more, isn’t he?”

Damara was easy enough with the name change. She’d liked the old name, but she liked the new name, too, and it sort of reflected better what they did? And the guild had changed from when it was just the five of them starting out.

The lab in Rata Novus was bustling with Asura; they had to do a bit of a song and dance to evade Phlunt and his lackeys and go to the mysterious dragon lab that Phiadi had told them about, where Taimi could talk to them freely about Dragon magic and chak organs and other weird things. And fight off the chak when they found their way in and attacked, which left Damara worried for Taimi. Without Scruffy, Taimi was an easy target for the bugs, even with her new, grown-up armour. Sure, Wegaff had a bit of experience as an adventurer, and he could protect her with his elemental magic, and the lab had point defenses built in, but… the chak had gotten Asura before.

But Phiadi didn’t seem worried about it, so Damara tried not to worry too much. It was just her nature to worry about small squishy things, and Asura collectively counted as those, even if they didn’t like it.

They came out of the secret lab to find another Charr making a lot of noise. “I was told I’d find the Pact Commander here. Anyone? Were they wrong?”

Annhilda stepped forward. “General Soulkeeper, this is quite a surprise. What brings you to Rata Novus?”

The head of Damara’s Order, Almorra Soulkeeper, came to shake her hand in greeting. “You do, Commander. I’ve come here to offer you a new position within the Pact. The Marshal rank is… uh… vacant. And we want you to fill it. At least until Trahearne has recovered, if he ever does.”

Annhilda smiled wistfully. “This is an honour.”

“I’m glad you view it in that light. The Pact is hanging on by a thread.”

“I see…” Annhilda traded glances with Damara and Phiadi. Were the Order heads squabbling again? Couldn’t agree on a new leader besides Annhilda? Surely Laranthir would have passed along their impasse from before, to Almorra at least – but maybe Almorra thought that some pressure from higher-up would help her to a decision.

“I can tell you’re having your doubts, so let me just be up front about the role. Certain Pact elements feel like Marshal Trahearne’s mistake was going out into the field personally and getting himself incapacitated. The new marshal would be planted safely in an office in Lion’s Arch. Still leading the troops, but out of harm’s way.”

“Oh, wow, that kills any interest I had in the job,” Phiadi said to the side. “They better get someone who isn’t a monster on the battlefield then, or that’ll be a waste…”

“Not to mention, how’s communication going to work at that distance?” Wegaff whispered to her, and Phiadi nodded.

Annhilda was much more tactful. “As flattered as I am by your offer, I’m going to have to respectfully decline, General. After our battle with Mordremoth, I believe that our guild – renamed Dragon’s Watch, with the addition of Rytlock – would be more effective operating independently.”

General Almorra nodded gravely. “I understand your decision on your early retirement, although I’m disappointed. I still believe in the Pact’s goal.”

Annhilda nodded. “I do too, and I’ll always be ready to lend a hand. It’ll just be outside the system.”

Rytlock laughed. “Out from under a mountain of paperwork, you mean!”

General Soulkeeper grunted. “Laugh it up, no-eyes. I have something for you, too. A letter from the Black Citadel. You must’ve really brushed some higher-ups the wrong way.” She handed him a letter. Rytlock didn’t even drop his blindfolded gaze to it as he crushed it and tossed it over his shoulder.

“Are you sure you want to just crumple that up and throw it away, sir?” Rhyoll asked.

Rytlock shrugged. “Why not? It’s what I did with the last two.”

“Wish I could do that,” Rhyoll said. “I always seem to get interrupted just when I get to the fiddliest bits.”

There was a clatter and shouting from below, and the Peacemaker guards began heading quickly in the direction of the ramps down. Damara listened, and caught something about ‘crazy Sylvari’.

“Hey, we should go follow them, see what’s going on,” Phiadi said, and headed off down the ramp. Damara and the others followed her.

They arrived to see several Peacemakers pointing guns at Canach, who had his hands up and a more disgruntled expression than usual. “What happened?” Phiadi demanded.

“Hi, Canach!” Damara said, and waved.

Canach huffed. “I came in through the caves because I couldn’t find the gate. I wasn’t expecting such an… enthusiastic welcome.”

“All right, stand down, everyone,” Phiadi snapped, and the Peacemakers retreated.

“Did you see that?” Taimi said, and chortled. “Phlunt was so mad, even his fleas jumped ship. Canach, you’re my hero!”

“So why the surprise visit?” Damara asked. Phiadi had told her that Agent Zildi had configured the point defense turrets to only register more-than-two-legged creatures – which meant chak – as hostile, which was great for Canach sneaking in without getting molested and all; she just hoped no one forgot and invited a centaur in someday.

“I’m here answering the call…” Canach wiggled his fingers at her.

Annhilda flinched, her hand going to her sword. “But Mordremoth’s dead! You killed-”

Canach snorted. “Oh, it’s not the Jungle Dragon’s call. This time it’s Anise’s.”

“Still holds your billet, huh?” Damara asked.

“She does. But certain messy events have transpired, and I’m assured that if I clean them up… my billet will be released, and I’ll once again be free from any yoke.”

“That’s great!” Damara said. “How can we help?”

“Minister Caudecus recently, ahem, ‘left’ the queen’s protective custody. Anise sent me and a squad of Shining Blade to help the good minister find his way back to Divinity’s Reach.”

“Any idea on his whereabouts?” Phiadi asked.

“There’s been a flare-up of White Mantle activity in northern Maguuma, and intel points to him possibly heading there.”

“That’s the crazy magical hot spot we saw!” Taimi cried. “Up by the Bloodstone!”

Rytlock frowned under his blindfold. “I thought the minister claimed to not be in bed with those mursaat-lovers.”

Canach sighed expressively. “Didn’t we all?”

“We’ll be happy to assist,” Annhilda said, and turned to Rytlock. “Rytlock, you mind sending word to the others? Marjory, for one, might be getting a little restless in Divinity’s Reach and want in on the action.”

“All right. Gives me a chance to poke Logan, too.”

General Soulkeeper cleared her throat. “Annhilda, if you like, you can hitch a ride on my airship. It’s not far out of our way; we can drop you off.”

Annhilda smiled. “Now that’s an offer I can’t turn down, General.”

“Perfect,” Canach said. “I’ll grab my Shining Blade detachment and meet you there.” He turned as if to go back through the cave.

Damara grabbed his arm. “Hold on, you don’t have to go back out that way. It’s much more comfortable to take the teleporter.”

He followed her without resisting… much. “I’m not sure I completely agree, but if you insist…”

---

And then Bloodstone Fen exploded, and then… reverse-exploded, and wow it was dangerous out there, and there was an incredible amount of magic just floating around. Damara was pretty sure this was out of her league, but thankfully Taimi had stowed away some sort of communication device in Annhilda’s pack and was constantly spying on them. Not that Damara minded when it meant she could let Taimi and Wegaff sort out the magic and the math way off in Rata Novus, safe and able to concentrate, and leave Damara to shoot things as necessary.

And the White Mantle was there, and not even bothering to hide. She’d picked up horrifying journal pages, mentioning human sacrifice, souls bound eternally to the Bloodstone, backstabbing and infighting… Why couldn’t they just be normal? What was this all supposed to accomplish, really – what was so important about world domination? Why did cults have to be so incredibly creepy?

On the bright side, they made it to a temple complex that had been ripped from the ground and now floated aimlessly in the air, where Annhilda nodded to the spiky Sylvari leaning against the nearest wall. “Canach, glad to see you’re alive. I was afraid you’d been caught in the blast.”

He stood and came to greet them with a sardonic eyebrow. “We almost were, but then… not.”

“Us, too. Your troops?”

“Some of them are still looking for you, and the rest are forming a perimeter around this place. I wanted to deal with the minister privately; I really only need you there to corroborate events, should they go south. Plus, I ran into these two delinquents and figured they may as well join in the fun.”

Rhyoll gave the ‘delinquents’ a cheerful wave. “Marjory, Rytlock. Showed up just in time to help us track down Caudecus.”

“It was all anyone could talk about in Divinity’s Reach,” Marjory said. “Canach, you’re here under the orders of-?”

“Countess Anise is very concerned about Caudecus’s well-being,” Canach said, with the faintest smirk. “I’m to return him home unless the innocent-until-proven-guilty minister does something to change those plans.”

Damara giggled. “She must be very hopeful your plans change.”

The smirk grew fractionally. “I was instructed to be tight-lipped about it. But I will say this: Yes.”

Phiadi held up a hand for attention. “Before we look for him: Caudecus may have been the someone who consumed the Bloodstone’s magic. If it’s true, he may be a little stronger than we all remember.”

Marjory frowned. “If he did, we can’t just let him loose on Kryta… or maybe all of Tyria is his prize this time.”

Canach shrugged. “I only want to be off Anise’s leash. Saving the world would just be a corollary benefit.”

“We already saved the world like a month ago,” Damara said. “By Melandru, it gets messed up fast. I wish people would stop messing with it.”

“The Dragons are bad enough as it is,” Phiadi agreed. “Delusional fanatics really just need to get slapped down as fast as possible or you end up with this nonsense time and again.”

“Then why is the Inquest still around?” Canach asked, with another eyebrow.

“Because I’m not on the Arcane Council… yet,” Phiadi said, with a toss of her head. “And given what I just said, you probably shouldn’t trust me with a private army. Even though I wouldn’t use it for personal gain… much.”

“My confidence is overflowing,” Canach said, deadpan.

“Then you’re one of the smart ones,” Phiadi said in kind.

Up the hill they went, following the winding stair as it looped slowly towards the summit, dodging traps and White Mantle who didn’t seem terribly perturbed that their base was now floating. Soon they came to a large double door, closed, maybe locked, there were no handles though.

Canach turned to them. “Let me take the lead, Rytlock. I was given specific orders on how this was supposed to be executed, and I don’t need you to defile it with your inclination to blindly smite.”

Rytlock growled. “If that’s a blindfold crack…”

Canach ignored him and gestured to Annhilda. “Care to take the door, Comman- Annhilda?”

“Absolutely,” Annhilda said. “And yeah, no more Commander for me.” She took a couple steps and put her boot squarely in the middle of the double door; both halves flung open simultaneously. It hadn’t been locked.

Canach ran in. “Minister Caudecus, you’ve obviously… Oh. He’s not here. Rytlock, smite away!”

Rytlock chuckled and brandished his blazing sword at the shocked and angry Mantle cultists. “My pleasure!”

Damara was already loosing arrows at the magic casters in the back, her raven Orion swooping forward to stab their eyes with his big beak. “Go for the eyes, dear,” he said, quite clearly, and prompting startled looks from several people on both sides of the fight. Maybe she’d said that too many times in training, and he was stuck with saying it now whenever there was something to peck at. Oops!

The battle was fierce, but short. The White Mantle were determined to protect their master with their lives, but despite their strange bloodstone powers, they were not… that great at fighting? Their group was probably just really strong from having fought an Elder Dragon and surviving the jungle. And they also weren’t high on bloodstone, so they still had all their mental faculties.

“Why do you think Caudecus wanted them to collect bloodstones?” she asked, looking around at the carnage and shattered crystals when they’d struck down the last cultist.

“Hopefully to weigh his pockets down while he jumped in a lake,” Rytlock said.

Damara laughed. “I wish! I knew he didn’t like Queen Jennah but I didn’t think he was actually Evil with a capital E.”

“Most politicians are Evil with a capital E,” Rhyoll said. “How do you think they get to be politicians?”

Canach snorted. “You, I like you. Well, hopefully he hasn’t flown the coop.” They’d walked a little further up the hill, and were now at another set of ostentatious doors.

“Oh yeah, he’s in there,” Damara said; she didn’t even have to listen closely to hear Caudecus yelling impatiently at his underlings from behind the doors. “Dwayna preserve us, he sounds like a delight to work for.”

“Everyone ready to crash his party?” Canach asked. “Time for your foot key, Commander.”

Annhilda grinned and did the foot in the door again, and it slammed open with just as much a satisfying bang as before.

Canach stormed in, sword and shield at the ready. “Minister Caudecus! You’ve obviously been taken prisoner by these White Mantle zealots. I’m here to rescue you and return you to the Royal Palace.”

Caudecus was standing at the top of a majestic platform overlooking the circular courtyard, wearing White Mantle grand leader robes, scowling at the intruders. At his side was a young noblewoman whose face Damara vaguely recognized, and all about them, on the wall and in the courtyard, were heavily-armed White Mantle zealots. “Let’s drop the charade, shall we, you ignorant leaf! I will not be returning to Divinity’s Reach until I wear the crown!”

Damara was really impressed with Canach’s self-control. He was coolly poised, not the slightest hint of a smirk on his face, though somehow he was still radiating smugness more than ever. “So I’m clear, you’re admitting you’re associated with the White Mantle?”

Caudecus flushed a darker shade of beetroot and he gesticulated wildly. “Are you quite touched? I’m their supreme leader! And they will carry me all the way to the throne of Kryta!”

Now he started to smirk, just barely. “Members of Dragon’s Watch, did you witness that?”

Annhilda let out a tight grin of her own. “I did.”

Canach pointed his sword in an exaggeratedly formal manner at Caudecus. “Then by the providence granted to me by Countess Anise, I hereby pass sentence on you, Caudecus Beetlestone. Today is your last day on Tyria. Allow my blade to bid you farewell!”

Caudecus yelled at his minions, and one of the big violet jade constructs rose before them, raising its arms to bash Canach, who sidestepped with a bored look before flicking his whipsword across it. “I believe it’s safe to assume Caudecus didn’t absorb the bloodstone’s magic; otherwise he’d be down here himself,” he said.

“I’m trying to figure out who did,” Phiadi said, directing her largest flesh golem to grapple one of the construct’s arms.

Damara had been looking up and around – there were White Mantle all along the walls, armed with bows and staves, but they had not begun to shoot down into the ring yet. Waiting to see how good their crystal golem thing was first, she guessed. Well, it was… slow, and it might have been powerful, with its big punishing stone arms and its beams of magical energy, but it was… slow.

Until those annoying red beams arced out of the crystals around the arena, zapping each of them. Damara winced as it struck her in the chest, sapping the life force out of her… and then she flexed her innate magic with a grunt, breaking off the beam and shattering the crystal. Her arrows appeared to be just skipping off the surface of the dark purple jade, and it was starting to get frustrating, even if it was also chipping away at the spell that powered it. She really didn’t like being in the middle of things with her sword, like the others; she lost track of things on the periphery that way, and there were enough of her friends in melee anyway. So she and Orion hung back, dodging magic, watching the White Mantle to see if they would attack, and let Rhyoll blast away with his shotgun and Rytlock hack with his magic sword. Maybe she should get a magic sword. What had Eir done with Magdaer again?

Rhyoll guffawed as he blew the head off the construct, ancient magic crumbling against raw explosive power. But suddenly Damara gasped as she felt magic seize them all and freeze them in place; whether from the dying construct or from the mesmers around them, she couldn’t tell. Caudecus was ranting already. “You cannot stop me! The Krytan throne was built upon White Mantle blood, and we are its rightful heirs!” The doors opened again, and more White Mantle rushed in to surround them, ready to execute them. Oh, that wasn’t fair! Her poor raven was fluttering slightly on the ground beside her and she couldn’t even pick him up. She glared at Caudecus, up on his wall, sticking out her tongue at him.

Suddenly, an inhumanly tall figure rose from behind Caudecus upon trails of green and red magic; he had a halo of shadowy tentacles on his back. “You are a heretic, Caudecus! And you shall lead no White Mantle, for I am their god!” He raised his arms heavenward, and Damara made a horrified face, because that could only mean…

Caudecus gasped as he whirled to see who was interrupting him now. “What? It… It can’t be…!”

“I am the last Mursaat,” said the figure regally. “Many years ago, you knew me as Lazarus the Dire. I have returned from the brink of existence!”

Caudecus made a slashing gesture with his hand. “No! You are a false god! The White Mantle is mine! Don’t listen to him!” The White Mantle soldiers looked back and forth between them, some of them dithering, some of them quickly choosing sides, one way or another.

“Empty words formed by the forked tongue of a snake. The Human seat of power and its current monarch are inconsequential. We are destined to face more virtuous pursuits. My true believers, you’re welcome to seek shelter in my light. To those who doubt… you’re welcome to burn.” Fire rained down from above, indiscriminately targeting everyone in the arena. Damara gasped and tried to dodge, though she didn’t know where to dodge to. At least the White Mantle seemed to be getting the worst of it, but what if-

“Canach!” Marjory cried, casting a set of bone stairs from the ground towards Caudecus’s platform. “Go now!”

Canach leaped up the stairs, really dramatically, but all his charisma didn’t do anything, because the mesmer standing next to Caudecus waved her staff, and both of them disappeared in a blink. “No! …Bah! Mesmers!” Canach sheathed his sword and waited for the others to join him on the now-empty platform – Lazarus had also disappeared; the fire storm had stopped, and the other White Mantle were dead or fled. “Sorry, Marjory, no offense to Kas.”

Marjory nodded good-naturedly. “Helpful if they’re on your side, annoying if they’re not. I understand.”

“But now he’s gone,” Canach grumped, and put his hands on his hips, glaring at Caudecus’s last spot.

“We can help catch him,” Damara offered. Her raven landed on her shoulder and offered her kisses with a hearty ‘mwah!’. “Not now, Orion. Love you too.”

“Doesn’t look like there’s any sign of Lazarus, either,” Marjory said. “A Mursaat alive… We should immediately warn the queen, but he appeared to be disinterested in Kryta.”

“Surprisingly different from the last time the Mursaat were sticking their creepy bird feet where they didn’t belong,” Rytlock rumbled.

Annhilda tilted her head at Marjory with a half-smile. “Marjory, weren’t you just saying something about people not being able to change?”

Marjory met the look with a level stare of her own. “A ‘virtuous pursuit’ could mean a lot of things to a Mursaat. But I’ll admit, I’m curious.”

“Yeah, they might think it’s noble to make a necklace out of your teeth,” Rytlock put in.

“I think we’re all missing the point here, and it’s this,” Phiadi said. “With Caudecus not displaying any signs of excess power, I think we have to assume Lazarus was the one behind the blast. We need to find him and get an idea of what he’s planning to do with all that magic.”

“Caudecus will want to hunt him down too,” Canach said, his stern look relaxing into a calculating smirk. “He won’t readily surrender control of the White Mantle. One will inevitably lead us to the other.”

Annhilda nodded. “This’ll be a good way to start the new guild: a crisis, but hopefully not a world-ending crisis.”

“It’s how I prefer my crises,” Canach said dryly.

“Hey boss, can you read me?” Taimi’s voice broke in from Annhilda’s pack. “I have some news!”

“I’m here, Taimi,” Annhilda said. “What do you have?”

“Something possibly… slightly… marginally… cataclysmic,” Taimi said.

“Dammit!” Phiadi said to Annhilda. “You invoked Murphi!”

Taimi gulped. “I managed to finally get detailed ley readings from the map, and determined… well… Primordus is active.”

Phiadi swore with more descriptive words, but quieter.

“Um, I can still hear you,” Taimi said. “Also, I agree.”

Phiadi sniffed, instantly on her dignity again. “You heard nothing. But I’m coming down to the lab to get the numbers. Are we done here? I’m done here.” Without waiting for an answer, she teleported away.

“I understand your priority will be the Dragon,” Canach said, and grimaced. “Mine, however, is unfortunately spoken for.”

“Best of luck,” Damara said. Ooh, she really wanted to help track down Caudecus! But this was exactly what Dragon’s Watch was for, watching Dragons, so she had to go do that.

“Thank you, and to you,” Canach said gravely. “Farewell.” He teleported.

---

2: Four Moms and a Dragon

Damara ran into the egg chamber of Tarir, her jaguar Maidy bounding beside her. She and Annhilda had both received such a disturbing dream about the crystal egg that they’d decided to leave behind Hope’s Le- that was, Dragon’s Watch for a few days and go to Tarir to check on the egg, and Marjory had volunteered to join them from curiosity. Ruka had greeted them with an almost un-Exalted flutter of excitement. “The egg is hatching! Glint’s second scion will soon be here.”

Damara nodded impatiently. “Okay, cool – hi, Caithe – can we go in?”

“I think you are the only ones who can go in,” Ruka said. “The barrier will not allow us who are not attuned to the chamber.”

And so she ran up the golden steps to the centre, in time to see the egg spin into a shattering explosion. She flinched and covered her eyes, but it seemed the crystalline fragments dissolved instantly – were they made of magic? Well, dragons were made of magic, so that tracked… She didn’t have a lot of time to think about it anyway, because coalescing into physical permanence where the egg had been was an absolutely adorable baby dragon, with a square head, gigantic green eyes, and a perpetual playful grin.

“Oh my Gods!” she squealed – and then the golden barrier around the baby dragon fell. “Umm… is it supposed to do that?”

“On your guard!” Annhilda cried beside her, drawing her sword. “Are those… destroyers? Primordus destroyers?”

“But why are they green?” Damara asked, whipping out her bow. “We gotta defend – Aurene!” She didn’t ask where the name had come from. There wasn’t time. She just knew it.

There was a flash of light, and the Luminate appeared beside the dragon, holding out her hand to blast away a couple little destroyer crabs that had dodged Damara’s arrows. “Something’s wrong! Please, hold them off while I right this!” She projected a small white shield over the little blue dragon, and began to cast something bigger.

“We can do that, by Raven’s beak,” Annhilda said, and threw herself towards the nearest destroyers, ducking their hideous claws and stabbing the nearest one clean through with her longsword. She smacked another one out of the way with her shield, and Maidy sprang on it, raking it with her claws. Damara had turned her attention to one of the other openings, because the destroyers were fast and trying to get around Annhilda. A volley of arrows deterred them for a moment, but then they surged forward again.

A figure appeared by the stairs, a big, floating figure who was no Exalted. Damara yelled between arrows. “Lazarus! Leave! Immediately!”

“I do not come with ill intentions!” said the Mursaat, and Damara had to admit he wasn’t throwing spells at them yet so…?

“Then earn our goodwill,” Annhilda said, pointing her sword at him in the half-second she had between destroyers. “Don’t let the destroyers up those stairs.”

“And give the dragon a wide berth, Lazarus!” Damara called. “It would be a pity to have your second life be short-lived!” Yeah, she didn’t know how to kill a Mursaat, but if he dared touch this precious wee bab she’d have his head on a plate!

But she had to admit that with the three of them to hold the three openings between the ‘wings’, defending the tiny dragon was much easier. And still nerve-wracking. Attackers weren’t supposed to get this close! She was supposed to be able to shoot them from up above while they struggled to reach the ascending ramp! And they were relentless, stomping and skittering past Maidy with single-minded focus. She couldn’t shoot fast enough, and Maidy’s claws and fangs weren’t that great against their rocky shells!

“Arrgh!” She gave a frustrated cry and dropped her bow to the ground, grabbing at her sword and her warhorn, blowing a sharp blast that made them flinch momentarily. Not much, but enough, and then she could hack at them, ducking around razor claws, stabbing them right in the glowy bits. Maidy scratched them from behind, sensing her intent, giving her easier targets.

“Doing all right?” Annhilda called.

“Eengh,” Damara grunted, kicking a small destroyer crab like a football. “Can’t they just quit?”

“That would be too easy,” Annhilda said. “Keep it up! Their numbers are falling!”

Damara gritted her teeth. “C’mon, Maidy.”

How long did the Luminate need? She’d feel less desperate if she had a countdown or something, assuming that the destroyers got vapourized when the defenses were restored. And the humidity was just as bothersome as it had always been in the Heart of Maguuma, making her sweat intensely, drops rolling down her brown face and into her cleavage. Kryta might have been humid and semi-tropical but it wasn’t like this! She slashed and parried, trying to avoid their return swipes, Maidy clawed and bit, but slowly the defenders were being driven back.

Just when she thought one of them might get past her and make a run for the dragon, there was a whoosh and light flashed over them. The destroyers did not drop dead, but at least there weren’t any more coming up! Now that was a countdown she could handle!

When the last of them had died to Annhilda’s sword, Damara looked around the room, which was as wide as the civic square under the jellyfish in ‘new’ Lion’s Arch, and saw Marjory and Caithe entering, looking around in wonder. Damara beckoned them over, and they broke into a run. “Sorry, we got held up outside,” Marjory said. “What’s happening?”

“It’s done, Commander!” the Luminate said. “The barrier has been restored. The scion of Glint is safe.”

Annhilda took a step towards the mursaat floating quietly on one side of the platform. “Not until that Mursaat is out of here.”

“A Mursaat?” The Luminate flinched, as if she’d only just noticed. “The Forgotten passed on tales of these creatures. I never thought I’d encounter one… You are the dragon’s champion and shepherd, but may I suggest purging this impurity directly.”

Annhilda opened her mouth to object, but Lazarus broke in smoothly. “The mursaat I was in the tales of the Forgotten is dead. I have been reborn, and rising from the void brings with it a new perspective. We previously sought power through treacherous means, only to save ourselves when the Dragons rose. But now I see we must all stand against the Dragons to save everyone.”

Damara gave him a side-eye. “Can I get a ‘no kidding’? But why do you hope to align with us?”

“You have killed two, have you not? Our interests are the same. The Fire Dragon is rising. I cannot stand idly by and repeat past mistakes. My actions since returning prove me a useful ally.”

“Like when you destroyed the Bloodstone?” Marjory asked skeptically.

“The Bloodstone was destabilized by years of misguided White Mantle tinkering,” Lazarus said reasonably. “I did absorb the blast to repower myself, yes, but also, how many countless lives were saved?”

Like their own lives, Damara realized. Aurene looked back and forth between them, looking confused and utterly adorable at the same time. Damara really wished she could cuddle with her! She looked like a smaller, slightly different, bluer version of Night, her electric wyvern friend.

“What’s the angle you’re running?” Marjory demanded. “What’s in an alliance for you?”

“The salvation of this world,” Lazarus said. “The White Mantle is splintering. There are those who follow Caudecus, and those loyal to me. I can make them a force for good, another spear in an army against the Dragons.”

“This is the same accord the Mursaat struck with the Forgotten,” said the Luminate. “Then, they simply broke their word and disappeared.”

“That was a cowardly act of self-preservation, and something I will not repeat,” Lazarus said.

“You won’t have the chance,” Annhilda muttered to herself. “You seem earnest enough, so I hope you’ll understand when I tell you there’s no way I can agree to this. I can’t keep an eye on you at all times.”

“I have an idea, boss,” Marjory said. “I’ll do it. I’ll dig into his claim, and if Lazarus has truly changed, we can reassess the situation.”

“I welcome any inquiries,” Lazarus said placidly.

“Oh, it’ll be much more than that,” Marjory said with an eyebrow. “I’m going to be embedded with you, shadow your every move.”

“Can we talk about this for a minute?” Annhilda said, and the four of them huddled together, well away from the Mursaat. Damara glanced over her shoulder at him. She didn’t know how good his hearing was. “Okay, first of all, he’s absorbed the Bloodstone’s power. We obviously can’t just easily put him down if his story doesn’t check out.”

“He’s touched death, boss,” Marjory said. “And now he’s back… There’s something… The necromancer in me wants to find out more. And… who knows?”

“Damara?”

“Well, it could be a trap. It’s probably a trap. It’s almost certainly a trap.”

Annhilda nodded. “I agree. You remember those tablets I was translating, back on the Fire Islands?”

“Yeah. It’s absolutely possible he’s just behaving sweet until he sees a chance to go all revenge/conquer the world on us… The Mursaat were absolutely no-holds-barred racist imperialists in the worst sense of all the words, and I wouldn’t put it past a single one of them to think he could do the job on his own. On the other hand, I really like a good heel-face turn story.”

“This isn’t a story,” Caithe said. “Not yet, anyway.”

“Sorry, my point was… I’ll side with Marjory. We should take a good hard look at him, not write him off with no chance.”

“I appreciate you looking out for me, but I won’t be told what I can and can’t do,” Marjory said. “I will be careful, I promise.” She turned away from them and walked cheerfully over to the Mursaat. “Lazarus, let’s move out,” she said, and Damara had the feeling that if they’d been on the same height level, she would have looped her arm companionably through his. “We have a lot to talk about, my floaty new friend.”

The Mursaat did not respond, but followed her to the door.

“I can’t help but feel like I’ll be explaining this to Kasmeer shortly,” Annhilda said, rubbing her forehead. “Given what happened today, I’d feel a little better if someone I knew was watching the chamber.”

“Someone you trust?” Caithe said.

“Yeah, so can you ask Taimi to get here right away?”

Caithe paused, then finally smiled. “You’re joking with me. I take that as a good sign.”

Annhilda let out a small smile of her own. “I was pretty pissed off when you interfered with Caoilfhionn’s quest-thing, and refused to explain anything, but even that… you’ve never been an enemy of this dragon.”

“I’ll lay down my life for her,” Caithe said.

“Wow, Aurene has a lot of moms,” Damara said, joking. “You’re her mom, and you’re her mom, and I’m her mom, and the Luminate is also a mom, and I guess Caoilfhionn probably is too since, you know, he was one of the ones who got her here in the first place.” She approached the dragon, who had flopped comfortably on her pedestal and was watching them. “Hey! Are we all your moms?”

The dragon trilled and tilted its head on one side, then looked around like she expected someone else there.

“Sorry, he’s probably still having a big long nap,” Damara said. “He’s been through a lot. But I’m sure he’ll come visit as soon as he wakes up!”

The dragon mumbled and blinked.

“Oh, man, I really want to cuddle with you,” Damara said, and reached out to pet the dragon.

“You can’t treat the scion of Glint-” began the Luminate, and stopped when Aurene closed her eyes and trilled happily.

“She likes it!” Damara said. “Look, you gotta give babies lots of care and love and attention. It’s probably been a really long time since you’ve been human, and maybe I don’t know anything about baby dragons as opposed to baby anything else, but oo just need lots an’ lots of neck-scratchies, don’t oo?” She gave the dragon a big hug and lots of scritches. “Come on, you guys, give her some love!”

“I don’t want to scare her,” Caithe said, moving closer cautiously.

“Sure, we don’t want to overwhelm her, on her first day of post-egg life, but she’s bonded to all of us, right? Give her a li’l rub, she’ll like it.”

Caithe did so, and her whole face lightened up in a way Damara hadn’t seen on her before. Annhilda came close and also reached out to the baby dragon, and Aurene shoved her head at her for pets too.

“Who’s a good girl, huh?” Damara cooed. “You’re the bestest little dragon in the whole world!”

“She’s the only little dragon in the whole world,” Caithe said dryly, stroking her tail.

Aurene, pampered from head to foot, stretched and yawned and laid her head down to sleep contentedly.

---

Damara wasn’t able to stay in Tarir for long, but only a few weeks later, she was on the other side of Tyria, chasing down some Flame Legion bastards with Rhyoll, when she saw something out of the corner of her eye. She looked, and saw… Aurene? But… like a ghost. She managed to keep herself from jumping, and when she looked again, the dragon was gone.

But a few minutes later, she was back, frisking around Damara and her red moa, Delia, while they were trying to keep undercover. “Aurene! Stay still, just for a minute!” Aurene vanished.

“What? What’s going on?” Rhyoll asked.

“I thought I saw Aurene!”

Rhyoll scratched his black fuzzy head. “What’s she doing out here?”

“I don’t think she really was, but… There she is again! Aurene, can you wait, like, an hour? It’s really distracting! I might get hurt!”

Aurene sat down in front of her, trilled, and disappeared.

“Okay, I hope she doesn’t pop up again until we’re done here. But I’d better get back to Tarir afterwards.”

“Aww. I wish I could come meet her.”

“You can come, why not?”

“I’ve got another job to do for Tribune Goreblade – he’s been putting me to work ever since I got back from helping you chase down that Caudecus. Not that I mind, of course. It’s been good to be home! Smell the oil and all.”

“Yeah, I’ll stick with the baby dragon,” Damara said, peeking out to see if there were any Flame Legion nearby. “But you can come visit anytime.”

---

When she arrived in Tarir, she found Annhilda had arrived before her. “Oh good, you’re here. Apparently we’ve got work to do with Aurene?”

“Work!?” exclaimed Damara, aghast. “You can’t put a toddler to work!”

“For now, Aurene is just an infant, forming her first pictures of the world around her,” said the Luminate. “But make no mistake: she’ll one day achieve great power. As her guardians, it’s our duty to set her down the right path.”

“Okay, but…” Damara thought. It really depended on the species. Baby moas, kittens, and puppies were blind and helpless for weeks after their birth, but once they opened their eyes, they could already be directed… even if that direction usually tended more towards ‘house training’ than ‘save the world’. But human babies, they needed… well, more than a month or two before learning ‘right’ and ‘wrong’! But she would admit, she was no expert on dragons, and the Exalted were trained by Glint. “Well, fine. What do we need to do?”

“A bond already exists between the three of you and Aurene,” the Luminate said. “It is unfortunate the Sylvari Caoilfhionn could not be here, but the three of you should be sufficient. Our goal is to nurture and strengthen this bond. To that end, we’ve prepared a series of challenges meant to demonstrate virtues to the hatchling. In the chambers ahead, you will help the needy, defend the weak, and train Aurene for battle. In the final chamber waits the truest test of your bond: a foe that you can only defeat with Aurene’s trust and help.”

“That sounds pretty complicated,” Damara said. “Is she really ready for this?”

“She’ll be fine,” the Luminate said confidently. “Just be patient with her. Aurene’s at a… rambunctious age, and she sees everything as play. Step through the portal when you’re ready.”

She bet Aurene saw everything as play! And she should be allowed to see it as play! Damara refrained from giving a loud, exasperated groan, but it was a near thing, even when she’d gone through the portal. “More trials?” she couldn’t help saying, though. “Really?”

“Set in their ways, I guess,” Annhilda said, sardonically. “Everything can be proven through trials, can’t it?”

“Aurene?” Caithe called. “Aurene, are you here?”

Aurene came frisking out from behind a pillar. She grinned when she saw them all, wiggled her tail, and disappeared behind another pillar.

“Oh dear,” Caithe said. “She wants to play hide-and-seek. Let us split up.”

The trials were not challenging, thank goodness, and in fact, were pretty morally simplistic. Which Damara appreciated. Aurene didn’t need to know the real world was agonizing shades of grey a lot of the time. For now, it was enough to know that helping others was good, whether it was to make their lives easier or to defend them in battle. Though even that rankled with her, a bit. Yes, Aurene was a dragon, not a person, and she had claws and teeth and scales and deadly breath, and she needed to know that they could hurt people should she choose to use them… but teaching a baby to fight still bothered her.

But Aurene seemed happy, just to be spending time with all her moms, and Damara resolved to try and visit more often if she could.

---

3. Sassafrass

Annhilda snickered to herself. “Raven’s with me today!”

“Is this really okay?” Damara said, fussing over her Norn friend’s disguise as a big, brutish Son of Svanir. Annhilda had had to adapt her stolen armour a bit to hide her body type – female – including a big, bushy beard to cover her face.

“Of course!” Annhilda said. “I just love it – the Svanir think they’re the greatest people in Tyria, that they don’t need the Spirits, that women are weak and stupid, and watch this: one of those dreaded women is just going to waltz in and pick up their secrets under their nose. Not so great after all!”

“Well, obviously,” Phiadi said. “But to know how much you know, you have to know how little you know, and they don’t even know that they’re dumb.”

“Truer words were never said,” Annhilda said. “Do I look stupid enough yet?”

Damara giggled. “You look pretty burly. Let’s hear you grunt.”

“Ugh,” Annhilda said, trying to sound deep and masculine. “Dragon is good. Women bad. Ugh.”

“I really, really hope this works…” Damara said. “I mean, your acting is fine! You sound fine! But if anything goes wrong, you’re going to have a really tough fight on your hands.”

“I know. But I’ll be careful. You two sit tight and keep watch; I’ll shoot a flaming arrow if I need a distraction.”

“I’ll be more than ready,” Phiadi said. “Go steal those bookahs’ ears.” Damara gave a thumbs-up, and Annhilda shouldered her battered axe and stomped off into the snow.

---

They caught up to Braham and Garm and Rox in a cave to the south of the Kodan ice ship, fighting off angry Svanir – as Damara had been afraid of when she heard the news from the quaggan. “Are you two okay?” she cried as they crashed through the back of the Svanir, smashing them between a rock and a hard place.

“Hey, guys!” Rox said. “We’re all right, thanks. What brings you here?” Garm gave a happy bark and let Annhilda rub his head.

Braham grunted and slung his bow on his back. He was using a bow these days? Interesting. …And then she saw it was Eir’s bow. Now she was worried, especially when he began speaking. “Fine. Wonder what that was all about.” She couldn’t see his face under the heavy mask-helm he was wearing, but his voice was grim enough.

“Did you steal something from them?” Rox asked Braham, and he shrugged in confusion. “They kept calling you a thief.”

Annhilda interjected with an apologetic look. “I’m afraid I have to take responsibility for that. I had to pose as a Svanir to get their thaw elixir recipe. They must have thought it was you for some reason.”

“Probably because they don’t want to believe they could possibly have been tricked by a woman,” Phiadi said mockingly.

“You had to wh-?” Braham stopped midsentence and shrugged again. “Well, it’s over now. Rox and I need to keep moving.”

“Okay, let’s go,” Annhilda said, smoothly leading the way.

Braham stared at her for a moment longer before following. “Sure… Yeah, sure.”

“It’s good to see you,” Damara said, trying to bring some warmth and friendliness back to the atmosphere. “How’s the hunt for the scroll going?” There was supposed to be a scroll that would grant a weapon enough power to hurt Elder Dragons, which was pretty neat.

Braham huffed in impatient aggravation, his tread heavy. “Almost at its end. Or maybe a frustrating beginning. If it’s not in this cave system, all my info was wrong and I’m back at square one. Did Taimi get my letter?” he asked abruptly. “I assume that’s why you’re here.”

Damara nodded. “She did. It was quite a surprise after she learned that… Well, how much do you know about what’s happening?”

“With Jormag? Plenty,” Braham said.

“Well, that’s not the only one,” Phiadi told him and Rox. “Primordus is active, too.”

“I heard,” said Braham. “These dragons won’t rest until we’re dust.”

“That’s why we’re here,” Annhilda said. “Collecting research. Taimi has a plan…”

Braham nodded. “I do too. I find a way to kill all the Dragons or die trying.”

Rox looked at him with a sympathetically furrowed brow. “That’s a little extreme.”

Braham glared at them through his mask. “Talk to me after your mother gets taken out by one.”

There was an awkward pause, and then Damara began to babble nervously. “Well, the Dragons aren’t the only threats. A Mursaat, Lazarus, is back… and seems to have changed, but, you know, you never know… And the human minister, Caudecus, escaped custody and came out as the leader of the White Mantle. He’s currently MIA.”

Rox nodded. “Canach says it looks like he’s making his way up to the Isles of Janthir.”

Damara brightened. “Oh, you’ve heard from him? Good to know!” She was grateful to Rox for trying to respond to her.

And then Braham brought the mood down again with a pouty thud, stomping further down the tunnel. “Sounds like a bunch of trivial Human matters I don’t care about.”

Phiadi audibly rolled her eyes. “Well excuse us for having a lot of work.”

“It’s not trivial to me…” Damara protested quietly. Why was he being such a jerk? Weren’t they friends? Was he really that upset about Eir not being able to fight anymore that he would take it out on them? Or was there another reason?

Braham grunted angrily and stomped into a nest of spiders, and for a few minutes everyone was distracted with squashing. Damara’s owl, Wiggins, soared silently through the melee and the arrows to slash spiders apart with his needle talons and razor beak, and for a minute Damara was afraid inside. Braham was definitely not being friendly today, and if he missed a spider and hit her owl – she’d shoot him back if he did! She almost called Wiggins back just for this fight, but tried to quiet her fears and let him fly. And Braham did not shoot him… though it seemed close, to her, a few times.

When the skittering had stopped, Annhilda turned to Braham, trying once more. “Braham… the reason we came to find you… I don’t know if you heard, but we started a new guild. It’d be great to have you.”

Braham lowered his head like a bull, shoulders hunched, voice harsh. “Didn’t feel like joining Destiny’s Edge and continuing their legacy, huh?”

Annhilda blinked in confusion. “Rytlock said… We decided that might be… might come across as disrespectful.” Annhilda wasn’t Eir. Phiadi wasn’t Zojja. Damara wasn’t Logan. Ohhh, no, she was not Logan at all, despite her experience with the Vigil and as a commander of the Pact. Logan was that rare breed of ‘muscley dork who somehow managed to be cool too’.

Braham snorted. “Disrespectful? To keep the legend of my mother and the memory of Snaff going? You and I must have different notions of respect.”

That stung deeply, all of them, and Annhilda spread her arms in confusion. “Braham, I’m sorry. This isn’t the reaction I expected.” Guilds reformed all the time. Why was he taking this so personally?

Braham’s voice was more bitter and sarcastic than ever. “It’s okay, Commander. Maybe it’s for me to keep alive; another thing thrown on my pile of obligations now that I’m back home.”

Rox’s brow furrowed deeper. “Braham…”

Braham turned away and kept walking. “This scroll isn’t going to find itself. Let’s go.”

Deep in the cave was a wide cavern with… strange magical things in it. Damara couldn’t make heads or tails out of it, but she was with two smart people, so she trusted Annhilda and Phiadi to figure it out. She was more concerned with the strange minotaur-ish monster that was beginning to stir within an icy prison.

“The scroll!” Braham cried. “I’ll take that, thanks!” He ran forward, and the monster broke free with a roar.

Everything happened so fast. “Braham, move!” Rox cried, and shoved him to the side – and was frozen solid by the monster’s breath.

“By Grenth!” Damara exclaimed, loosing an arrow at the monster. “Stay out of that thing’s way!”

“Watch out above!” Annhilda said, holding her shield up as the monster roared louder and charged with an earth-shaking tread, bringing bits of ice and rock down from the ceiling. Annhilda and she rolled out of the way, and the battle was on.

There was so much to keep track of, in that dark cavern – the monster, the ceiling, the other little monsters running around, her friends… Damara spent more of her time running than loosing arrows. The monster charged again, this time running down Annhilda and stampeding over her shield. Phiadi, who had been sheltering behind the Norn, barely had time to jump out of the way, and her minions were stumbling towards the beast in confusion.

A gleam caught Damara’s eye – the scroll had been knocked to one side of the cave, and Braham, for all his impatience, had not managed to get to it and pick it up yet. “Wiggins, go, buddy! Braham! Incoming!” Wiggins swooped between falling icicles, snatching up the scroll in his claws, and carrying it over to Braham. An icicle struck his wing and he tumbled. “Wigg!”

Braham caught the scroll and retreated to open it. “For the night of the fire lives in my heart and in this bow. No chill with extinguish its light.” His voice was raw with fury and determination. He nocked an arrow, drew, and loosed, and the beast stumbled, bright fire sparkling from the strike.

“That did it!” Damara cheered. “Keep it up!” And now her own arrows began to bite, as Braham’s melted its icy armour.

Annhilda picked herself up, groaning. “I’ll draw its attention. Take it down!”

“Its time has come,” Phiadi said, brandishing her axe.

Braham growled – apparently they were being too upbeat for him – and loosed another arrow, striking it square between the eyes. The monster moaned, and fell heaving, triggering one last shower of icy shrapnel.

Damara rushed to pick up her owl, cradling her fluffy baby, pouring healing power into his broken wing. In a moment or two, he was alert again, healed enough to perch on her shoulder.

Rox, too, was free of her ice, coughing as she sat up and looking around. “What happened?”

“You were frozen,” Phiadi told her.

Rox looked at her with an incredulous smile. “I was frozen? So weird. It was like a dream, and I was on the beach. You think it’s be the opposite…”

“Well, we’re glad you’re back,” Annhilda said, walking painfully up to her and putting down a healing ring on the ground, then extending her hand to Rox.

Rox took her hand and let her haul her to her feet, groaning and dusting herself off. “Did we get the scroll?”

Braham nodded, and for the first time he didn’t sound completely pissed off. Just a little pissed off. “Sure did, Rox. Thanks.”

Rox smiled. “And now?”

Braham tapped his bow before slinging it on his back. “This is similar to the scroll Asgeir used in his great victory, so now I test the bow on the tooth in the Great Hall. If I damage it, it’s time to rally the Norn and lay Jormag to rest.”

Annhilda stepped towards him, holding out her hands as if to stop him. “Braham, wait a minute. A direct assault on Jormag puts a lot of lives on the line. I think the Pact can tell you that may not be the best idea.”

Braham growled. “The Pact you commanded. Look, Jormag is my problem, and I’ll deal with it my way – with or without you.” He jabbed a finger at himself, then at Annhilda.

Annhilda crossed her arms. “Jormag isn’t just your– You think leading the Pact didn’t maybe teach me a thing or two? Look what happened to Rox when you rushed in and bashed something!” Rox shuffled in embarrassment.

Braham snarled, leaning forward like an angry dog, shouting back. “Oh, I forgot your calculated plans always work out perfectly, like when you posed as a Svanir to get some potion!”

Annhilda sighed, clearly taking her temper in both hands and lowering her voice. “Okay, okay. Can we back up? Taimi thinks there may be a way to pit Primordus and Jormag against each other without raising a single sword.”

“Taimi thinks, huh?” Braham huffed and shrugged dismissively. “If the tooth chips we have hard proof.”

“Hard proof of what?” Annhilda rejoined, her voice calm but her words cutting. “That you can battle a tooth?”

Braham’s voice rose again, his body taut as a bowstring. “So only you get to decide when we take down a Dragon? Only you’re allowed to kill them?”

“I most certainly did not say that.”

“Well, figure out what you’re saying, because that’s what it sounds like.”

Annhilda sighed again. “I’m only asking you to wait – maybe just a few days. See if Taimi can do this. There could be no need to put lives at risk.”

“With every moment we wait, someone else’s mother dies! I won’t give Jormag a few days! I won’t give Jormag a few minutes!” He clenched his fists and his voice cracked. “You don’t care, clearly!”

Annhilda’s eyes snapped blue sparks. “You do not get to speak to me that way. I’ve been working just as hard as you, only I’m expected to care about the entire world, not just my own people-”

“You’ve abandoned your people, you’ve abandoned Eir-” Braham interrupted her, talking over her, but Annhilda would not be talked over.

“-I need to factor in Human issues and Asura issues, I can’t just do what I want-”

“-Well it sure seems like you do!”

“After listening to everyone!”

“Listening doesn’t kill dragons! We’re past listening!”

“Situations change and I have to know about it-”

“Guys, please!” Rox begged. “We’re all on the same side!”

“Are we?” Braham spat. “It’s our fault Eir can’t fight anymore!”

Was that what this was about? “It’s not,” Annhilda said quietly. “It’s not your fault.”

“Maybe if you’d been spending less time fussing over the Pact and more time looking for her, she wouldn’t be stuck now! I’m not going to make that mistake again!”

Annhilda took a breath. “I grew up with the legend of the tooth, but I’ve also been out in the world and faced two of these things – one with you! You can’t just run in without making a plan!”

Braham sputtered. “You think I… You know what, Commander? I’m glad you didn’t join Destiny’s Edge. My mother wouldn’t want you there. I’m going back to Hoelbrak. Garm! To me!” Garm whimpered, but followed Braham as he stormed out the way they had come.

Rox looked back and forth between them uncomfortably in the sudden absolute un-echoing silence, broken only by Braham’s retreating, crunching footsteps and Garm’s soft pad. When Braham and Garm had disappeared around a bend in the cave, she looked back at Annhilda. “…So…”

“Go ahead,” Annhilda said, tired but without resentment. “He certainly doesn’t want to be around me right now. Any of us, maybe.”

Rox lowered her voice and leaned closer. “Do you think… he’ll do it?”

Annhilda shrugged. “I hope cooler heads prevail. He has to see this isn’t the way to go, not when we have options, and we still have time.”

Rox nodded. “I’m sorry. He’s… not been taking any of this well.”

“He’s a young pup still, has a lot of growing up to do. But you don’t have to apologize, Rox.” Annhilda offered a small smile.

“Well… okay. I hope you guys find the answers you’re looking for. And thanks for helping us fight the thing.” Rox waved, then dropped to all fours and ran after Braham as Damara and Annhilda waved back.

Phiadi watched her go, and then a few minutes later said: “…Braham never was good at arithmetic, was he.” She sounded angry, too.

Annhilda sighed. “I can sympathize. Eir is crushed by her disability, and it’s painful to see her struggle with her body and her feelings. He thinks that the only way to make her happy again is to give her his legend, as if she was still fighting through him.”

“But he was so mean, and we just want to help. It’s like we’re not even friends anymore,” Damara said, almost wailing. She felt tears in the back of her eyes. Braham’s feelings… hurt, a lot.

“Injured people can be like that,” Annhilda said. “We will have to be patient. Which is easier when he’s not present and slinging venom, I’ll grant you…”

“I can’t understand why he would ignore Taimi’s results in favour of fables and some kind of… revenge,” Phiadi said. “I thought he was fond of Taimi. And she hasn’t been wrong… much… yet.”

“Yeah, but he thinks she’s a kid,” Damara said. “And he’s never been in the Vigil. I used to think like him, a bit, I think. But I learned. Sometimes you have to wait a little and lose a few more soldiers earlier, in order to achieve victory in the engagement. You know? Like, you can’t spring an ambush early.”

“Well, you don’t have to try to convince me about it,” Phiadi said. “It’s stupid he won’t just go talk to her and let her tell him what a bookah he’s being.”

“Pride,” Annhilda said. “And guilt. I know. He should. I can’t imagine she would agree with anything he just said. But until he goes with open ears and closed mouth of his own accord, we can’t force him into it. And it’s going to take a while now that he’s got that scroll.”

Phiadi grinned a sharp-toothed grin. “Then we’ll just have to be faster.”

“I hope he’ll be okay,” Damara said, still hurting from his words and for his unhappiness. “I’m glad Rox is there to help.”

---

Breaking into Caudecus’s mansion from the back was pretty exciting, but wow it was horrifying to Damara to see the White Mantle just… hanging around, in the heart of Kryta, with all their magical construct doohickies and their uniforms. Like, what was subtlety? Sure, they were in the caves and tunnels under the mansion, out of sight of all normal people, but how did they get there without people seeing them? Wasn’t it inconvenient? She wondered whether the others with her, Annhilda, Phiadi, Rhyoll, Demmi Beetlestone, and Countess Anise were having similar thoughts… probably not. They seemed focused on more important things.

And it was sickening to come across an impromptu torture chamber, covered in blood and full of Shining Blade bodies, and White Mantle, one of them ranting feverishly. “All must confess! Be freed of the burden of your secrets before we free you of your life!”

There was a defiant shout that made her heart race with hope. “Thank you, but I’ll show myself out!” Canach had torn free of the Mantle who held him, seizing a sword and stabbing his guards.

“Canach!” Damara cried, alarmed at how close he’d been to death, or at least harm. “Are you all right?” She shot the man sneaking up on him.

Canach inclined his head to her briefly as he took a ready stance, watching the Mantle around him. “Hello, Damara. If you and your friends would be so kind as to help me kill the rest of these cretins.”

“You got it!” she said, but was immediately forced to duck as a spell came crackling over her head and struck the wall behind her with a shower of sparks.

The Mantle Inquisitor guy cackled theatrically. “Excellent! More have come to confess! Get them, but save their dying whispers for my ear!”

“What a B-list holo-villain,” Phiadi said. “I’ve got some dying whispers right here for you!” She sent her minions scampering forward, following them with a curse.

The White Mantle had been prepared for the Shining Blade, but they had not been prepared for a guild of heroes, even with their smuggled jade constructs and things. After all, Dragon’s Watch knew how to deal with those constructs now. Annhilda called a couple orders, focusing their fire, and methodically they took down their frothing opponents.

Demmi Beetlestone looked around at all the bodies, now equally of Shining Blade and White Mantle, panting. “That all of them? Looks clear…”

Canach straightened from his combat stance, dropping his borrowed blade carelessly on the ground. “Good to see you, Dragon’s Watch. Hopefully we can finally finish this and I can be out from under that horrible woman’s thumb.” He turned his gaze an inch to the right. “Oh, hi, Anise. I didn’t see you standing completely within my line of sight.”

Damara almost actually choked on suppressing a giggle, but Anise rolled her eyes. “To think I almost missed you.”

Canach shrugged and headed for a pile of gear on the side of the cave, digging through it to find his own wooden armour and his whipsword and moon shield. Demmi followed him. “Have you seen my father – Caudecus?”

Canach looked up from pulling on his big spiky pauldrons. “Brutish man with aggressively unsettling facial hair? Yes. He seemed upset that he wasn’t on the Krytan throne… to the extent that he was – Is he really your father? I’m so sorry.”

Demmi wrung her hands. “What was he doing?”

Canach finished dressing in his armour and gave her a sympathetic grimace. “Well… he was consuming bloodstone his lackeys gathered from the explosion. He might be unrecognizable to you, my dear.”

“I stopped recognizing him as my father long ago,” Demmi said, with an angry breath. “We should move before he turns his scorn towards civilians. He’d rather see Kryta burn than not rule it.”

“We’ll stop him,” Damara said to her. “He won’t get either of those things.”

“I know,” Demmi said. “I’m glad you’re here.”

---

Caudecus had almost escaped, but for a fatal mistake – shooting Demmi, in his madness, had turned Valette against him, and she had helped them access the portal in the fireplace through which he’d escaped. And now their group simply stood and stared at the horror that awaited them.

Anise broke the silence first. “Are you kidding me? The ego on this man.”

Valette winced. “This is his ‘inner sanctum’. Every time he came back from here, he was slightly more unbalanced.” They were standing in an apparently-doorless circular chamber, surrounded by gigantic sculptures of Caudecus’s old wrinkly face. They were really disturbing, and it took Damara a minute to figure out why – they weren’t sculptures that pushed inwards into the room, but reliefs that delved outwards – like the backside of a mask, but horribly detailed. Damara leaned back and forth, confused by the lighting, trying to help her eyes make sense of what they were seeing.

Canach looked at her. “How do you think the conversation with the sculptor went when he ordered these? ‘I need at least six reliefs of my face. No, no, bigger. Like, eight feet tall. Something that really captures my essence: a catastrophically misguided, swagger-sodden plague sore.’”

Damara had been trying really hard not to react – Demmi was mortally wounded upstairs! – but she broke down halfway, ducking her head and pressing her mouth against her shoulder to smother her giggles. Ugh! He just knew she’d be the one to laugh at whatever he said, she was certain of it.

“Hang on, he’s got riddles,” Annhilda said, peering at the pedestals around the room, trying to figure out how to move forward. “Raven help me, they’re nonsensical riddles – whoops!”

“And the room spins,” Canach said acidly. “He somehow managed to make this place sickening in more ways than one.”

“How much craftsmanship did he waste on this?” Rhyoll asked as the walls began to slow from their manic merry-go-round whirl.

“Welcome to ‘rich Humans’,” Canach said. “Wasting their money on their vanity is everything, because what else are they going to do with it?”

“It just doesn’t seem like it would help him rule the world,” Rhyoll said. “Think I could blow up a wall instead of waiting for riddles?”

“I’ve got it, cool your steam engines,” Annhilda said, and a door slid open at one side of the room.

A horrible behemoth was within the next chamber, thrashing and chomping on bloodstone. “You did this to me! You ruined everything!” it howled.

Canach raised his eyebrows. “Uh… So, he’s slightly larger and more unhinged than our last encounter…”

Even Anise looked disturbed, and she’d been more or less unflappable to this point. “Gods! Canach, let’s end this lunacy.”

“My pleasure,” Canach said with a tight grin. “Given due process by the Krytan throne, you are hereby sentenced to… oh, forget it. Let’s just kill him.” Damara laughed. There was always time to mock Human formality.

“You’re coming with me!” raged the creature as they charged at it, swords drawn.

---

Their mission was accomplished – Caudecus was dead – but there was more to do. Canach was free, and Valette would be Anise’s new community service ward… but Demmi was dead, too badly wounded for magic to stabilize her. And they still had to figure out if Caudecus had anything on Lazarus.

Canach joined them as they headed upstairs. “I was going to leave… but I’m dying to see his room after the splendour that was his private dungeon.”

Damara shivered. “Ugh. Normal nobles are said to have eccentric private lives. I’m not looking forward to this.”

“Humans in general have such an odd culture,” Phiadi said. “Though in some respects it’s not too far off what we do in Rata Sum… I mean, we also seem to hand out power to those least suited to wielding it. They at least pretend to dedicate their lives to science, though.”

“All of you are mad,” Rhyoll said, jokingly. “Only the Charr have any sense.”

“You know what? In many respects, I’ll give that to you,” Damara said. “Although I’m not sure I’d call those massive warmachines ‘sensible’.”

“Hahaha, I’d call them ‘awesome’, myself!”

“Think I get to kick in another door?” Annhilda said, as they came to the top of the stairs where Valette had directed them.

She did, and they ventured in carefully. Canach turned to their left and began to laugh. “Oh, Minister Beetlestone, you did not disappoint. Why on Tyria do you think he has a painting of Captain Thackeray in here?”

Damara stammered. “That’s… Maybe because… If he thought…”

Rhyoll laughed louder. “You know what? We should probably never tell Logan about this.”

Canach nodded. “Agreed. That man’s been through enough. And this would probably scar him worse than being stuffed in a blighting pod.”

They spread out and went through the rest of the room. While it was largely filled with just a nobleman’s collection of eccentric art – including a mirror over the bed – there was a diary, and a definite object of magical import, a small chest that Damara dared not open. Phiadi took charge of it, to hand off to a Shining Blade.

Room ransacked after an hour, they went down to the garden for some fresh air and a look at the sky – slightly cloudy, chance of rain in a bit. Annhilda and Phiadi still had to talk with the Shining Blade, and Rhyoll sat on the doorstep under the arches, resting his leg, but Damara wandered down to the fountain, and Canach followed her.

“Hey, thanks for fighting with us again,” she said. “Or… well… I guess you were there first.”

“Yes, I should be thanking all of you for coming when you did. You distracted them enough I could get a sword into my hand.”

“Glad we did! I’d hate to think those creeps could get the better of you.”

He shrugged and breathed deeply of the warm Krytan air. “Well, I’m off, then,” he said. “Your adventures have been fun, but it’s time for broader horizons.”

“So… no Dragon’s Watch in your future?” Damara asked, hinting-wise. “You’ve worked so much with us, you’re practically part of the group already.”

Canach shook his head resolutely. “Regretfully… I’ve been under someone’s yoke for too long. It’s high time I walk as my own Sylvari for a while.”

Damara smiled. “Okay. Thanks for everything, Canach. You’ve been a good friend and it’s been really good to work with you some more.”

Canach snorted, looking away from her. “Oh, don’t start weeping about it. I’m sure our paths will cross again.”

“I hope so!” She leaned in and gave him a quick hug. “I know you’ll enjoy your freedom, so… take care!”

He looked startled, and settled for patting her on the shoulder as she stepped back. “I certainly will. And you too.”

---

Lazarus was Balthazar.

No. Lazarus wasn’t involved at all, if he even still existed. Balthazar was Balthazar, disguising himself until Kasmeer and Taimi had jury-rigged a solution to break his glamour.

What did that mean? The non-Humans in the guild had been alarmed and confused, but she knew Marjory and Kasmeer were reeling as much as she was, if not more. She was sitting in a corner of the Rata Novus lab, hugging Velvet, her patient jungle stalker, trying, trying her hardest to wrap her brain and her heart around it. It didn’t make sense. Why would Balthazar return when the other gods were silent? Why would he disguise himself? Why was he trying to kill the dragons?

She could hear Phiadi in the background, finally giving Phlunt a clapback over the secret dragon lab. She could hear Annhilda talking with Marjory, trying to figure out where to go next. She could hear Wegaff bossing around researchers, trying to clean up the massive mess of broken glass they’d made in breaking the illusion.

She was never good at being devout, except to Melandru whom she related to; she offered prayers to the others when appropriate, but Melandru was her guide. Still, this was a god and he had… not wiped them all out instantly. The god of war had tried to hide himself and couldn’t kill them. But it was really him. She felt it. She was so confused…

What was he doing now? And was she going to stop him?

 

Part 11: Cracks