The Newt and Demon - Book 8 Chapters 49,50,51 (Patreon)

Chapter 49

Awooga

“Awooga!” Tresk shouted.

Fenian fanned himself, looking Pogo up and down. “Awooga indeed,” he said, jumping from the commentator’s chair and sweeping across the room. “I don’t believe I’ve introduced myself. Fenian Feintleaf, master duelist and potential master of your heart.”

Theo should’ve seen this coming. It was absolutely a mistake to bring the dragon straight to the commentator’s room, and he mentally kicked himself for doing it. But it was done. This can of worms was open and there was no going back.

“Dragon,” Theo said, nodding toward Pogo. “The same dragon that lurked under our town for years.”

“That means absolutely nothing to my yearning heart,” Fenian said, fluttering his eyelashes.

For her part, Pogo just looked moderately amused. It was as though a bit of attention wasn’t the worst thing in the world. If Theo was in her shoes, he’d melt, die, then turn into a pile of ash.

“New rule. No one romances the dragon,” Theo said. “Violation of this rule results in death. Don’t make me amend your contract.”

Fenian looked as though he was about to take a chance before drawing in a steady breath. “Fine. You win. For now.”

“He would not survive the mating process,” Pogo said, shaking her head. “I would crush him.”

“Oh, I just got an idea for an arena game!” Tresk shouted.

Theo pinched the bridge of his nose. He was going to get through this. Somehow. “Pogo will stick around until the end of the world, then I’ll take her and the other dragons to whatever world they want. From what I understand, they’ll pick one once they can meet.”

“May I suggest Erradon?” Fenian asked, once again fluttering his eyelashes.

“I’ll keep that in mind, weak little elf,” Pogo said. “I don’t believe your world is on our list, though.”

Fenian deflated. “What’s wrong with my world?”

“Well, there’s the war,” Tresk said with a shrug.

“What war?”

Theo turned, leveling his gaze at Fenian. “You seriously don’t know about the war? Your entire planet is a battle royale. That place is a serious mess.”

“No, it isn’t!” Fenian objected.

“It really is,” Theo said. “We’ll go after today’s games. I’m just dropping Pogo off with you guys so she can explain the dragon cultivation technique to Tresk. Pogo, if Fenian flirts with you, and you don’t like it, feel free to eat him. You can have the Throne of the Herald.”

Fenian squeaked, drawing in on himself.

Theo had to get out of the madness before he went nuts. Reminding himself that Pogo could take care of herself, he folded space and arrived back on Tero’gal. As expected, Elrin was hanging out at the same cafe they had eaten at the other day. The alchemist fell into a chair inside the building, leveling a tired look at the man.

“Today has been a day,” Theo said. “How many more shards do we need to move?”

“Just a few,” Elrin said, turning and gaining the attention of a server. They eventually came over, taking Theo’s order before scampering off once again. “Iaredin is far more balanced than I had expected. I suspect there’s a force I haven’t detected helping me out.”

“That’s the best news I’ve heard all day. Meanwhile, I’m working with a brood of dragons back on Iaredin. You’d think it’d be easier to find a group of giant lizards, but no. They’re apparently great at hiding.” Theo drew in a massive breath, allowing his forehead to fall against the surface of the table. “You have a dragon, right?”

“Not really. I have a dungeon-generated dragon,” Elrin corrected. “You found real dragons? I’ve always wanted to tame one.”

“Well, they’re sapient, so that might be impossible. Anyway, we’re homies now so you can’t have them.”

“Did you happen to see a white dragon? Scales like frost?” Elrin asked.

“Nope.”

“Damn. I have a score to settle with that one. Anyway, tell me the story. Your food will take a minute.”

Theo retold all the information he wanted to share with Elrin. His trust in the man had increased significantly, but there were still things he didn’t like about him. It was all the information he needed, which was apparently good enough. The duo then ate their food, drank the curious coffee drink, then headed out to grab a few more shards.

“Sure we haven’t missed any space elves?” Elrin asked, pressing his hands against one of few remaining shards.

“I’m certain. I don’t feel anything here,” Theo said. “And the stability of the island is almost nothing. Once we get down to only a handful of your special shards, this place will crumble.”

“Good riddance. This island is an affront,” Elrin said, looking at the landscape with disdain. “The sooner we set this right, the better. This place is a strain on the system.”

“Sounds about right,” Theo said, affixing the tracker-thingy to the shard. “Last trip of the day?”

“Yup.”

Thank god. It wasn’t super taxing, but heading back and forth between the island and the mortal realm always brought with it a foreboding sensation. Especially now that the void island was getting less stable, Theo wanted nothing to do with it. The feeling would fade. Eventually.

“Just leave me here,” Elrin said. He had planted the last shard of the day, and was touching it. Theo suspected this was a way to nurse it back to health, or something along those lines. “I need to visit them all before the day is done.”

“Sounds good. Just send a carrier pigeon or something if you need something,” Theo said, vanishing before he could respond.

Theo arrived back in the commentator’s booth, and paused. “Did he try it?” he asked, gesturing to the prone form of Fenian on the ground. The elf was being attended by a few healers, returning his insides to their rightful place.

“Yup,” Tresk said, not looking away from the window. Pogo was in the seat next to her, giving lively commentary on the current fight. “He made a pass, she tried to eat him, we all had a laugh. Good times.”

“Worth it,” Fenian groaned, giving Theo the thumbs-up.

The alchemist leaned against the commentator’s table, watching the fight play out below. It was one of the last of the day, meaning it was one of the intense ones. Two fighters were standing off, flashing with movement every few seconds but otherwise appearing motionless.

“That human has a way about them,” Pogo announced. “Their fighting spirit can’t be denied. They shall win.”

“I dunno, he’s looking tired to me,” Tresk countered. “A couple more hours and one might actually make progress in killing the other.”

“Bah, we shall institute a point system or something,” Pogo said. “No one has time for such nonsense. I declare blue the victor.”

“Ya can’t do that,” Tresk said. “There’s a judge down there. Don’t discount the will of the judge.”

The point system came into play shortly after that and the red fighter was declared the winner. The judge then announced the point system would be the norm going forward, since the battles would otherwise take days to complete. It wasn’t a feature of the fights Theo had a problem with, so he refrained from voicing his opinion. It was, after all, not something he was willing to dip his toes into. The staff running the games had done such an excellent job so far, and interfering would only sour the games.

“You good?” Theo asked, looking down at Fenian.

The elf had his torso exposed, bright pink streaks across his abdomen still visible. Pogo had really torn into him, and it was a shock that there was anything left of the man.

“He’ll be good enough to walk, but he needs to heal up,” the attending healer said, shaking her head. “Seriously. Who flirts with a dragon?”

“This guy,” Fenian said, pointing at himself with both thumbs.

“You went from dealing with time-related sickness, to getting your ass kicked by a dragon,” Theo said. “Great work, buddy.”

“Thanks,” Fenian croaked. “Shall we get going?”

Theo nodded, pointing at Tresk and Pogo. “You guys coming? We’re gonna show Fenian how his world is currently burning.”

“Sounds fun,” Tresk said, pushing herself off from her seat. “Can we get snacks?”

“We can get snacks,” Theo confirmed.

With everyone in agreement, Theo wrapped them all in his aura and folded space. Even Alex came along, blipping from her position flying above the arena and arriving in the imagined world Fenian had been born into. They appeared far outside a central city, named Vesta, and looked upon the assembled army.

“When did this happen?” Fenian asked, groaning as he rose to his feet. “What in the hells are they fighting over?”

“Land or something,” Tresk said with a shrug. “I stop by every so often to check out who has the upper hand.”

“What happens when they die?” Theo asked.

“Depends. Some go to Death’s place, but others stay here,” Tresk said. “I don’t know the logic behind it.”

The city had been in tatters the last time Theo had seen it, but he didn’t think it was this bad. The army assailing the gates was making good progress, destroying the carefully laid stones Fenian had assembled to make his dream world. When the alchemist had visited it before, there were a few fights here and there. But there had been nothing to this scale, which was beyond concerning.

“Seriously, what’s got them whipped up?” Theo asked. “Every other world is peaceful.”

Fenian scratched his chin. “I can’t imagine what’s gotten into them.”

Pogo was swiping her hands through the air, as though going through many screens. She scoffed, looking at the elf with an expression Theo could only describe as concern. “Might be in the fact that you set the rules for your world to include ‘fighting all the time,’ but, hey. I’m not an expert.”

“I don’t recall that specific line of instruction during the creation of my world,” Fenian said, laughing nervously. “How can you see that, by the way?”

“I’ll bite you again,” Pogo said, showing her all-too-human teeth.

“Yes, ma’am. I might’ve had the idea to turn this into a gladiator world to create the sector’s best fighter,” Fenian said. “But I didn’t expect them to destroy my toys.”

“You told them to fight and be the strongest, and you didn’t expect them to fight?” Theo asked.

“Not everyone can make their world into a utopia. We’ll just have to correct the locals,” Fenian said. “Except, they’re not locals. These are migrants from the other worlds.”

“Congratulations, you’ve created a convict planet,” Tresk said, patting Fenian on the lower back. “Maybe we can strike some fear in their hearts or something.”

“Or something,” Theo muttered. “Pogo, want to discuss our draconic venture while these chuckleheads sort the warring armies out?”

“But of course,” Pogo said, walking off. Fenian looked after her as she went, breathing a heavy sigh.

Once they were out of earshot, Theo shook his head. “I wanted to avoid stuff like this. The four worlds were supposed to be stable. But now we have some post-apocalyptic hell to contend with.”

“It isn’t as bad as you think,” Pogo said, shaking her head. “We could seed a Dragon Flight on this world to restore order. That assumes we can generate new clutches. And then, those dragons will be whelps.”

“The issue is generating draconic energy, right?”

Pogo shook her head. “That’s the short version. Generating it isn’t as much of an issue. Spreading it and ensuring it integrates into the world is the biggest problem.”

“Sounds like something we can work on,” Theo said. “But you’re right. There won’t be enough dragons to police a world like this. Maybe that’s not the right approach.”

Theo found himself including these Dragon Flights into his plans. Pogo had always been reliable, if not a bit mysterious. What he knew was that the dragons were powerful. They were far more powerful than they had any right to be, which meant they could be used a defensive force. Attackers entering the sector might think twice coming up against a bunch of angry dragons.

“I think there’s a creepy jungle in this direction,” Theo said, nodding westward.

“The Inf Forest,” Pogo said. “I’m quite familiar with it.”

“Oh! Maybe you can teach me some more old Iaredin lore,” Theo said. “I’m interested in the history around here… And, yeah. I understand this is just a copy. But I’m finding myself wistful for a culture I was never a part of.”

“You have an interesting way of expressing your desires,” Pogo said. “Come, I’ll teach you about the beastmen hordes and how they almost destroyed the planet.”

“Cool.”

Chapter 50

You’re a Quick One

Apparently, the Dragon Flights were silent watchers of Iaredin. Theo remembered hearing from Elrin the way he had encountered a dragon. It was a beast he had never tamed, although it had quickly become his life’s desire. The intelligent creatures, appearing as monsters to most people, did their best to stay out of the way. Only when they were truly needed did they alter the course of history.

That only made Theo question why they hadn’t jumped into this new iteration earlier. Surely there was something they could’ve done to help out the new version of this world? But Pogo was quick to explain it away.

“You’re from Earth, aren’t you?” Pogo asked.

Theo looked into her yellow eyes, finding a depth in there he found hard to imagine. It was the gaze of someone who had watched the sands of time slip through her fingers without blinking. He couldn’t even guess how the dragons had survived for so long without going insane. “I am,” he confirmed after a short pause. “Why?”

“Excellent. You understand the concept of electromagnetic wavelengths, right? Radio, x-ray, so on and so forth.”

Theo blinked a few times, never expecting a science lesson from a dragon. “That’s right.”

“Imagine the energies of the world like radio waves. The primordial energies, something most people call celestial energy, occupies a narrow band right in the middle. The local system takes up a lot of the higher waves, and draconic energies settle down near the bottom.” Pogo reached out, plucking a leaf from a nearby branch. The forest they had found themselves in reminded the alchemist of the old Pacific Northwest, only far more humid. “The system is maintaining a certain form to keep the temporal field activated. Over the years, her waves have expanded in both directions. That forced the celestial energy down, which is blocking our energy.”

“That’s actually an insanely good description,” Theo said. “I don’t think anyone has explained a magical concept as well as that before.”

“I have experience,” Pogo said. “What this means is that we can produce as much energy as we want, but it won’t soak into the world properly for us to reproduce. If we generate more dragons forcefully, perhaps we can expand our occupied range just a bit. Enough for a clutch or two.”

Theo had concerns. One thing he knew about radio waves back on Earth was what happened if one signal tried to force the other out of the way. One would be met with hissing static and the overlap of voices and songs that joined to create a garbled mess no one could understand. Although he was concerned, he had to cede to the more experienced person in the conversation.

“Any way we could reach a better solution?” Theo asked. “How far does the radio wave analogy go? Can we create repeaters of some kind out in the void?”

“The analogy is finite in that regard,” Pogo said, seeming to dismiss the idea entirely. “But I like the way you think.”

“There’s nothing saying we can’t put load balancers on this planet or another. We could do all of them if we really needed.” Theo cupped his chin, looking skyward. There was a more pressing question on his mind. “But what do we get out of this? Not to be selfish, but I feel as though I need to ask. The protection of the dragons is nice, but that’s far down the road.”

“You’re more shrewd than I remember.” Pogo looked him up and down, shaking her head. “Where’s the timid alchemist I met in the cave?”

“Dead, unfortunately,” Theo said. “I’m slightly more competent, but only because I snatched at a tiny thread of power. Give it time, and I’ll go back to the old version.”

Pogo blew a ring of smoke from her nose, jerking her head in a vague direction. “Get on my back. I’ll show you something.”

Theo tilted his head to one side, pointing at her human-sized frame. Pogo rolled her eyes. In a flash of light and a puff of dramatic smoke, she assumed her massive form. In the light of the sun, he could see the details of her scales. They were a brilliant shade of gold, intermingling with reds in places. Although it was awkward, he climbed up her side and sat behind her slender neck.

“Off we go,” Pogo rumbled, taking to the skies in such a quick fashion that Theo felt his stomach drop out his ass. They dashed into the clouds, banking hard enough that the alchemist hardly had time to look at the landscape below.

What fleeting glimpses he got of the land below didn’t tell him much. He saw the war-stricken lands outside of Vesta, thick with smoke and teeming with people that looked like ants. The green landscape faded to brown, then settled on a muted shade of brown-yellow. It had changed startlingly quick, and Pogo descended just as fast. Theo held on for his life, counting on the fact that the dragon knew what she was doing.

“Welcome to Vulca,” Pogo said, shrugging and ejecting Theo from his seat.

“Nice,” Theo said, looking around. It was a desert. The area looked as though it hadn’t seen rain in forever. What trees once grew here were now dead husks of their former glory, and a few monsters lingered in the distance. It was good they were smart enough to keep their distance, the lizard-like creatures dashing to whatever holes they used to avoid the blazing sun overhead. “There’s a lesson here, isn’t there?”

“You’re a quick one,” Pogo said with a wink. “Welcome to one of the largest follies in history. A dragon pretending to be a mortal is to blame here. When my Dragon Flight extended a helping hand, he swatted it away and plotted something of his own. Vesta was besieged on all sides. His people were starving. When given the chance to gain supplies from the skies, what did he do?”

“Something stupid, I’m guessing. The landscape here doesn’t match the surrounding area.”

“Indeed, it doesn’t. Instead, the good archduke dug a tunnel. But we all know what happens when you dig too deeply.” Pogo nodded toward the southwest. “The Ekor Catacombs now house the damned souls of around two-thousand soldiers of the archduke’s civil corps. Well, I don’t know if Fenian recreated them, but you get the point.”

“Is the point that the ghosts poisoned the lands, or that this archduke refused your help and paid for it?” Theo asked.

“Both,” Pogo said with a shrug. “My point is that we’ve been around for a very long time, and we know good ideas from bad.”

Internally, Theo knew this was his weakness. It had been something he was working on, but that didn’t make it easier to stomach. Why was it so easy to think he was always right, even when faced with the obvious nature of things. Eventually, he nodded. There was enough on his plate that he couldn’t afford to solve the problems of the dragons at the same time.

“Okay. Do you at least have a plan that goes further than turning me into a dragon?” Theo asked.

“Not really. We’ll know how to respond when we have three new true dragons in the system,” Pogo said. “Well, your once-goose is pushing closer to the power of an elder dragon. Do you think you could reach those heights?”

“In barebones terms of energy storage?” Theo asked. “Easily. I think I can push well beyond that. Tresk might have trouble hitting the true dragon stage, but there’s only one way to find out.”

“Excellent. Let’s help your friends with the armies. I’m sure a giant dragon overhead would do them wonders.”

***

“We almost had it sorted,” Fenian complained. He folded his arms, looking over Theo and Pogo with a cautious expression.

“You killed like twenty dudes,” Tresk said. “They weren’t listening.”

“They still aren’t,” Theo said, nodding to the fighting that had broken out in the distance. “Seriously, what’s wrong with these people?”

“The world may need some reprogramming,” Fenian said with a nervous laugh. “It seems mortal souls are driven a bit mad when they come here.”

“Yeah, he created a death planet,” Tresk said. “Good job.”

Alex hadn’t been enough to quell the fighting, and even Pogo had some trouble. She used some dragon magic to calm them down, but it was fading quickly. It was impossible to tell if there was some way to permanently disable the compulsion of each mortal to kill each other.

“This might be above our paygrade, guys,” Theo said. “Is your interface for the planet working?”

“Yes, but it isn’t listening to me. Erradon wants to do its own thing, and I can’t stop it,” Fenian said. “It has locked me out of the interface, only showing the most bare features. The only thing it will tell me is that the fighting will stop in time.”

“This is a lot of complex, system-level magic,” Pogo said. “Considering how hastily it was constructed, the planet might be seeking to balance the forces of nature with the artificial energy you’ve injected here.”

“Which means what?” Theo asked.

“We can’t do anything,” Pogo said. “The people here will keep fighting, and that’s fine. I’ve noticed they aren’t dying. If I had to guess, the planet is absorbing that energy to power monster-related generators. Erradon will then direct the attention of the fighters to the monsters, creating a cycle that makes stronger and stronger monsters. I suspect it wants to create another reset after the main one.”

“That’s insightful,” Tresk said with an approving nod. “Pays to have a dragon around, huh?”

“This information I offer freely, because of the agreement Theo made.”

“We’re gonna be dragons,” Theo said, clarifying what was going on. “Well, something like humanoid dragons. Dragonoids?”

“Oh, that sounds cool.”

“I want to be a dragon, too,” Fenian said with a pout. “Why can’t I join the Tara’hek?”

“Stop whining. You’ve got your own training to do,” Theo said. “Infusing our bodies with the draconic energy isn’t going to be easy. We’ll need to control the changes so we don’t turn into quadrupedal dragons like Pogo. Sorry, I know you have a humanoid form, but I’m attached to my thumbs.”

“Fair.”

“I’m also interested in how our racial biology mixes with that of dragons. Do you guys have hybrids?”

“Not that I’m aware of. Other than Alexandria,” Pogo said.

“So, we’re going into untested territory here. Which means caution, and a lot of time in the time-dilation realm. In exchange for balancing the draconic energy in the world, the dragons will help us afterward,” Theo said. “I think that’s a fair trade.”

“Is it?” Tresk asked. “Whatever. Don’t care. I wanna be a dragon. What’s better than killing a dragon? Becoming one.”

Pogo winced. “At least you’ve stayed your dagger against me. That shows great restraint, little one. Perhaps your marshling heritage will help with the transformation. Who knows?”

“Can I call you mommy?” Tresk asked.

“No.”

There was little else they could do on Erradon. With so little time left on this plane, Theo had to make sure everything was good for everyone else. Before heading back to the mortal plane, he stopped by Tero’gal to issue a warning. Anyone going to Fenian’s planet wouldn’t be leaving. They’d be locked in an endless cycle of battle until the first reset, and perhaps the second. Even then, he didn’t know if they’d be able to leave. Travel between the worlds was still a vague thing.

“We need someone to cover us at the arena,” Theo said after the group arrived back in Broken Tusk.

“Oh, I know just the persons!”

“People,” Pogo corrected.

“Yes, mommy.”

As much as Theo wanted to be there to commentate the games, he couldn’t spare a moment. He fell back into old habits, resigning himself to working too much. But the end of the world didn’t come every day, now did it?

Chapter 51

Owie

Tresk picked the worst possible people to commentate. Xol’sa and Zarali were timid most of the time, and neither had a lot of experience in combat. But there wasn’t much of a choice. Everyone else was too busy, so it had to do for now. The makers of the arena games were informed about the truncated timetables, and scrambled to rearrange everything to fit the schedule. Theo doubted they could get to everything they wanted to do in time, but the fate of the sector was just a tad more important.

The bright side was they now had a nice battery of draconic energy to draw on. Theo had quite a few ideas on how to use it to empower the Tara’hek, but that would only come to light through experimentation. His goals for the next few sprints through the time-dilated paper world were simple. Fenian had to infuse himself with celestial energy, and the Tara’hek needed a combination of draconic and celestial energy. Once they did those two things and the shards were in place, the stage was fully set for a transition.

Theo sat on a paper log with Pogo, watching as Fenian struggled to draw in any energy, let alone enough to make a difference. The dragon had become a great source of information, and he picked her brain about everything system-related while he could. The downside to everything was the time they spent in the paper world. It sucked, and even the dragon had trouble adjusting with a brain shield like the rest of them.

“He really isn’t good at this, is he?” Pogo asked.

“No, but he’s got what counts. Determination,” Theo said.

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Fenian said, releasing a massive breath. Sweat was dripping from his forehead as he strained to remove the influence of the system. “I just can’t get it!”

Theo rubbed his chin, an errant though flashing through his mind. But his concentration was broken when Pogo spoke.

“Now, start slow. I want to see how you weave my energy with the celestial energy,” Pogo said. “No, not the lizard. Keep working with the idiot elf.”

“Hey,” Fenian groaned.

Theo nodded. He didn’t know how to weave the energy himself, but he didn’t need to know how. Alex had already done it, and while her technique was crude when compared to what he had expected, he could work with it. He took the principle of what she had done and changed it slightly, pulling lighter threads from both energy sources and weaving them into a rope. It was all a matter of visualization, but eventually he had a perfectly balanced blend that he brought into his chest.

The effects were immediate and brutal. Pain raced through his body, stinging every nerve as the energy passed through his soul. Once he had it through the first processing phase, the pain lessened but didn’t vanish. Just like the Celestial Cultivation technique, it was now a matter of breaking pieces of that rope off and distributing it through his system in an even fashion. He needed equal parts of the blend to go to his bones, tissue, muscle, organs, and soul. They had found that an imbalance set everything off.

“Interesting,” Pogo said with an approving nod. “I expected you to die when it passed through your soul. But since you already infused it with some celestial energy, the draconic energy came through with minimal effort.”

“Good to know you’re looking out for me,” Theo said sarcastically.

Pogo offered him a warm smile, with none of the normal dragon-related toothy grins. “Loosen the binding. If you pull it that tightly, your body will have trouble accepting the power. If you leave it loose, it’ll soak deeper.”

Theo did as he was told, pulling a few more ropes from the air and processing him. It took about a day, but time had a strange way of moving in the paper dimension. It felt like a few hours, but the alchemist knew better. Thoughts of Fenian’s problem, and his own desire to infuse this new form of energy into a potion flitted through his head. But he stayed focused on the task, never wavering when time was so limited.

“I think that’s time for a break,” Pogo said. “Am I to understand that Tresk can just steal the knowledge from you and do this herself?”

“That’s right,” Theo said. “No need to teach us twice.”

Theo spotted Tresk yelling at Fenian in the distance and cocked his head to the side. The elf wasn’t exactly stupid. He had mastered a lot of intricate techniques in his time, including coming arguable the best swordsmen on the planet. Stripping away abilities and attributes, he was the best. So why was he having such a hard time getting the technique down? Standing, the alchemist crossed the distance between them, narrowing his eyes to look down at the mewling elf.

“I’m trying my hardest, master!” Fenian shouted. “Don’t use the whip again. I beg you!”

“Fenian. I think you might be a moron,” Theo said.

“I give up,” Fenian said, shooting to his feet. “That’s one insult too many, my not-so-dear alchemist.”

“You wound me,” Theo said with a smile. “That’s not what I’m talking about. You are a genius in many areas. Trade, guile, and swordsmanship to name a few. You’re a very adaptable person who I’ve seen wear many masks in your time. You have to ask yourself why you can’t disable your own system, and I think you know the obvious answer.”

Theo had figured it out only just then. When he considered the things that could’ve possibly blocked the man from moving forward, the alchemist decided it was nothing within his control. And if it was something that rested outside of his control, that could only mean one thing.

“By the gods,” Fenian said, letting out a shuddering breath. “I think I might be the dumbest person in the universe.”

Theo shook his head. “Don’t blame yourself. How long have you been seeing that message?”

“Since I arrived,” Fenian said with a laugh. “Hold on, this might be painful.”

Fenian had left the system message he received when arriving in this world in the corner of his vision all these years. It was his trump card. If his back was against the wall, he could call on a sudden boost in attributes to see him through a fight. With the end of the world around the corner, there was almost no reason for him to hold onto it. That was the blocker that kept him from moving forward, and true to the elf’s word, he doubled over in pain a moment later.

“Owie,” Fenian said.

“There, there, little guy,” Tresk said, patting his back. “Just get it all out.”

Fenian was shuddering, but didn’t let that get in the way of making a good quip. “It had just been in my sight for so long,” he said, groaning on the ground. “Truly an idiotic move.”

“Maybe not,” Pogo said. “If he was battling against the system holding him back, there’s no telling how quickly he’ll move forward. This is a good thing.”

“If you say so,” Theo said with a shrug. “Let’s get back to it.”

Pogo had a lot of guidance on cultivating the draconic power. After a while, Theo’s body didn’t reject the energy at all. If anything, it hungered for it. Once that technique was refined, Tresk and Alex joined in. Tresk, Alex, Theo, and Fenian were all sitting in the paper dimension, infusing themselves with foreign energies. There was absolutely no change for the elf, but the others noticed subtle changes.

Alex got bigger the more draconic energy she accepted. The power she now held was easy to read, coming off of her in waves. The changes for Tresk and Theo were minimal, though. On the surface of their skin, a more prominent scale pattern appeared, and Theo’s horns grew a bit longer than normal. Tresk got some nubs atop her head, but they didn’t sprout into full-fledged dragon horns quite yet. Pogo had an explanation, of course.

“Since you wove the draconic energy with celestial energy, the changes aren’t visible on the outside.” Pogo drew herself up, thrusting her chest out with her hands on her hips. “But I can feel it inside you. You’re developing the heart of a dragon.”

“That’s a good thing, right?” Theo asked, exhausted from the many months of power infusion.

“It is an excellent thing,” Pogo said. “This should only take a few years.”

Tresk groaned, falling onto her back. “How long is a week?”

“Seven days,” Theo said.

She counted on her fingers. “We only got about 7 to 10 more years of this? Easy.”

“Speak for yourself,” Fenian said, who looked absolutely drained. “I think I’m going to die.”

***

Armel Batteux had died in the war. He didn’t mind it. In fact, he was proud to have given his life for the cause. He had defended his homeland and moved on to die on a street in Vesta. The last thing he had expected was to awaken in such a dark place. It wasn’t the lady’s light he had expected, and it certainly wasn’t comforting.

Groaning to his feet, Armel rubbed his head. He found his long, golden hair still intact, along with all his appendages, fingers, toes, sight, smell, and so on. “Hello?”

His voice rang hollow through the darkness, but there was a light. Without an idea of anything else to do, he walked toward it. A moment, or perhaps hours, later he moved through something that felt like thick sludge. Naked, both of his clothes and his weapons, he stepped onto an unfamiliar road. An archway hummed behind him, droning with the sounds of magic and something grim. Behind a pale, shimmering barrier he saw people. The souls of the damned.

“Give me a sword, father,” Armel said, rolling his shoulders. “I’ll see your fetid realm done in a few strokes.”

“That won’t be necessary.” A familiar voice rang over the road, like a broken church bell being rung in his mind.

“The shade?” Armel asked, crouching into a combat stance.

“Jesus Christ, put something on,” another familiar voice called.

A lump of clothes fell at his feet, and Armel looked up to see one of the warriors. “Meya? What in the name of the light are you doing here? The shade didn’t capture you, did it?”

The woman crossed through the darkness, appearing in her telltale leathers. She had her hair shorter than last time, meaning at least some time had passed.

“Seriously. I don’t wanna see your bits, put that one,” Meya said, kicking the clothes.

Armel tentatively dressed, keeping an eye on the dark shape in the distance. He’d recognize that voice anywhere, but had sense enough to know something more was going on here. Once he was fully dressed, the woman withdrew a familiar sword from nowhere, holding it out for reverence for him to take.

“They were talking about you for quite some time,” Meya said, a broad smile on her face. “I’ve got your armor, too. Polished it up and everything.”

“I’m afraid I have a serious lack of information here,” Armel said. “This is Death’s domain, is it not? Where is my father?”

“Yes, you have a lot to catch up on,” Kuzan said, still lurking in the shadows. “For the sake of your realm, and the legacy of your people, you’ll need to adapt.”

“This was part of my plan,” Meya said, coming closer to Armel and placing a hand on his shoulder. “You’ll need to drop your old grudges for now. We’ve got another war to fight.”

Armel’s laugh was boisterous. He unsheathed his sword, holding it out to check the condition of the blade. It was pristine. “I can feel the Lady’s light in my chest. Point me in the appropriate direction, and I’ll slay your enemies.”

Meya shook her head. “First thing we gotta do is some family therapy.” She jerked her head toward the archway. “We’re bringing Silvain back next. You two need to help your father.”

Armel’s face contorted into an expression of rage. He pushed the feeling down for a moment, gaining control of his impulses. “Your plans always worked. So, I’ll trust you this one time.”

The process of watching his uncle get resurrected was strange. Armel observed a gaunt man with dark, long hair stepping through the gate. The once-prince’s hand was locked onto the handle of his sword, knuckles white and arms trembling. The instant Meya handed over the slender sword the height of a man, Armel sprinted forward.

“Answer for your sins, bastard!” Armel shouted, sparks illuminating the darkness as their blades collided.

Meya slapped herself in the face. “I should’ve seen this coming.”

“Let them get it out of their system,” Kuzan said. “It’s good for them.”