Zuzia watches from Neith’s back as the dragon soars over the battlefield. Upturned dirt, shattered rocks, and glistening shards of glass are scattered around the cataclysmic impact crater of the titan whose corpse dwarfs the two large male dragons flying together.

“I appreciate you going easy on me, Lady Zuzia,” jokes Neith over his shoulder. Wind magic carries his voice perfectly to her, making him easily audible.

The young woman scoffs. “Just remember that right there if you ever have to choose between me or Daniel.”

The dragon laughs, and Magnir lets out a whistle, since he doesn’t have the mana pool that Neith has, replenished a bit by the strong, unappealing alcoholic potations used by the Fievegal. She’s not sure why a “magic liquor” would be more effective than the ‘safer’ potions, but apparently they’re effective even on a being as large and powerful as Neith.

The blue dragon, who has to be more efficient with his aerodynamics, subtly gestures with his foreclaw, which is folded in close to his chest while he cruises.

Neith nods, saying to Zuzia, “We have a handful of people. Be ready to move quickly, Magnir and I can only delay small swaths of the fire at most.”

“Right,” replies Zuzia quickly. She braces against the handholds on his armor, feeling her stomach float a bit like a rollercoaster cresting the peak of its first and biggest hill to descend towards the ground. Naturally, she feels a rush watching the ground come at her, since she’s approaching it faster than if she were simply falling. Zuzia’s brain knows she would probably survive diving head first into the ground at this velocity, but her very human Earthling human human instincts belonging to a humanly human desperately want her to scream and brace for impact, as if she could do anything to save herself in the event of a fall. Before Amalaskae chose her, Zuzia was basically as average as an average person could get; average job, average hobbies, average fitness, and average skillsets. And, Earth humans instinctively know that approaching the ground at hundreds of kilometers per hour is a recipe for learning one kind of magic; the one time use of transformation magic into paste.

Minus the magic.

But, like a rollercoaster, as long as she holds on, she is safe. That much, her brain and body agree on, even if her heart is racing. Neith banks hard to the left away from the mana fire, and she notices that his armor changes color in line with the angle the intense radiative energy is washing across it. Though she doesn’t seem to have the same adverse reaction the human has been hearing about, she can tell the mana fire is similar to Hekate arriving from a teleport; a mass of intense energy like a hot wind sprinkled with a cool mist, clashing with her senses and making itself unignorably known. It’s an unnerving, ever-present feeling like an oppressive silence or a thick, lingering fog. She can put it out of her mind, but she can definitely see it slowly whittling away her sanity.

Neith lands on all fours, coming to a slower walk as he approaches the site Magnir indicated. The blue dragon lands near him, while the grey General lowers his head towards the ground.

Zuzia has to come to grips with what she finds directly ahead of the two dragons, and her eyes are locked onto the scene ahead.

Many of the people at the triage center at the temporary command post fell out due to over-exposure to the intense mana radiation before they decided to retreat on their own.

But, that was when there was only one near-apocalyptic event occurring.

Several bodies are buried by disrupted soil, indicated only by gloves or armored gauntlets and boots sticking out of the soil. Other armor pieces without their wearers are scattered all around. There isn’t an abundance of blood, but the implications are clear.

Blinded by her inhuman strength and the arrogance giving her tunnel vision on her task, Zuzia took action to defeat a single enemy. But, in the process of doing so, she didn’t even remotely ponder the collateral damage.

Neith steps up beside her in his humanoid form once more, and he places his hand on her shoulder, pulling the human out of her trance. “Try not to blame yourself, Zuzia. You did what you could to stop him.”

“Will God forgive me for saying I didn’t even once consider the possibility I could harm my allies?” asks Zuzia quietly and bitterly.

“I would assume so,” replies Neith. “At least, so long as you don’t let their deaths be in vain, and you make greater efforts to avoid it in the future.”

The human scoffs, feeling disgusted and disappointed with herself. She wants to break down and cry, but they have a mission, and it’s her fault. She must face this head on. She can mourn once the survivors, if there are any, are rescued.

Magnir, who remained in his true draconic form, sifts through the dirt while Zuzia and Neith jog in to start collecting the bodies.

“Interesting…” remarks Magnir while letting dirt sift through his massive claws. Zuzia and Neith look at him, and Neith asks, “What is it?”

“I’m not finding any bodies.”

“What?” asks Zuzia. She jogs to one of the arms sticking out of the dirt and pulls on it. The gauntlet comes out, but there is no hand underneath. Just the armored forearm and fingers that are bound together.

It’s reasonable to assume that people trying to flee would shed their armor on the run, so the gauntlets and even discarded torso armor makes sense. Weapons are scattered about, a few small-footed boots that likely belong to the gatonines or shenwulves, and even helmets are all around them.

The trio quickly searches in a widening area, with the blue dragon able to rake tens of meters at a time, mindful to not move too fast, but quickly searching as the mana-fire creeps closer and closer.

“Wh-... Where are they?” asks Zuzia. Her mind starts to fear the worst; did they already burn? Is the mana radiation disintegrating bodies even before the flames reach them? Some part of her even hopes God claimed them in a manner like the mostly-American concept of the “Rapture” or something, sparing them the end, even if she doesn’t expect such a thing if and when the End of Days truly comes to pass. 𝗳𝗿𝐞𝕖𝘄𝗲𝕓𝗻𝚘𝚟𝕖𝐥.𝚌𝕠𝕞

“Can you smell anyone nearby?” asks Magnir, which seems odd, other than Neith is a dragon as well.

The disguised dragon looks around, replying, “No. Though, my sense of smell is still recovering from our old ‘friend’s’ lava expulsion.”

It’s odd, given the glowing light and black flames that are only a half kilometer or so away from them, since there is no noise from the mana fire itself. Even the ground that crumbles mostly evaporates instantly, since the “top” layer is the fastest to ignite, meaning very little material is ever “falling” or “crumbling away”.

But, after finding yet another helmet with no body anywhere nearby, Zuzia is convinced of the same thing the two dragons are as well; all of the bodies have disappeared.

Big, black, foxy ears and the bushiest black tail with streaks of glowing blue highlighting them both flash through Zuzia’s mind. She gasps as she looks around them.

“Uh… Guys? Is… Is it possible… that Hekate did this?”

The two dragons look at each other, and Neith replies, “Hekate can indeed teleport, but to transport so many people spread out like this?”

“She would have been fighting the strange mana as well,” replies Magnir.

“But, if anyone could…”

“Indeed…”

Zuzia feels a rush of true hope at these words. They won’t know until they hear a head count and know that everyone is accounted for, but…

Hekate… If… If you saved them… I owe you everything. Dear God, please let it be true. I… I don’t know what I would do…

The Polish woman sinks to her knees feeling a massive amount of pressure lift off of her. She hasn’t forgiven herself yet. In fact, she likely never will. It’s not proven that she didn’t kill anyone, even if it was a necessary evil. Even if she could rationalize it, she never wants to dismiss someone’s life so easily.

And, she will never, ever let herself forget what could have been. Twice, now, her over-reliance on her God-given power has nearly caused a massive tragedy.

Zuzia looks at the titan that rests in a massive crater. Its form has changed from the impact, with its upper torso and head seeming to have liquified from the intense forces before crystalizing in spike-like protrusions that glisten in the bright light coming from the mana fire ‘nearby’.

But, there’s more than that. The more distinctly crystalline-looking portions seem to have a glow of their own. It would be easy to dismiss it as refraction of the intense light around it, or even a sort of fiberoptic effect if the crystals have formed “channels” to carry the light with minimal distortion.

The problem is the color.

It’s hard to tell, but Zuzia would swear the colors of some of the ‘reflections’ or ‘glints’ doesn’t match the ‘rhythm’ of the light and the small streaks of mana color that race through the air. And, that doesn’t account for the light that seems to be emanating from the eclipsed sides of the spikes and deep within the shadows near the dragon’s torso.

“Do you guys see that?” asks Zuzia as the three regroup together. Magnir continues searching with his nose, but he does look to where she points at Sayrdarralouche’s humongous corpse looms over them.

The blue dragon replies first, “It’s hard to say for certain from this distance, but I would say that glass formed from the impact or the residual heat in his body. Just our ignityal breath alone can leave glass behind.”

“Given his weight and the crater, I wouldn’t be shocked if some of it is diamond or starfall powder,” adds Neith speculatively.

Starfall powder? thinks Zuzia. She clarifies for the dragons, though, “No, I mean the glowing. Is… Is he still alive?”

Both dragons look again, and Neith answers, “I don’t know much about starfall powder, but diamonds function as more powerful magic crystals and store mana, which causes them to glow. And, glass tends to glow in the presence of mana, but it doesn’t store it the way magic crystals do. I would say we’re seeing the mana interacting with the glass.”

“He doesn’t seem to be moving or showing any other signs of life,” replies Magnir in turn. “Regardless, it’ll obviously be irrelevant in an hour or two.”

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“It’s almost a shame to let that much diamond vanish,” jokes Neith.

“Don’t even think about it,” growls Zuzia. “Even if Hekate saved my dupę in this case, and we don’t know that yet for sure; I don’t ever want to be so stupid again. And, I definitely don’t want a reminder of how far up my own dupie I was hanging around your neck or studded into your armor.”

The two dragons manage to laugh lightly. Zuzia knows both of them have seen more deaths in their long lives than people she has met, most likely. At least, the possibility is there. And, in those long lives, they’ve developed a far thicker skin than she has to be surrounded by potential death, the annihilation of the world, and just general tension such that they can joke rather easily. She is trying to keep her spirits up, especially now that it seems almost certain that Hekate saved her bacon. Zuzia wishes to kill no one, and while she accepts that she had to in several instances already, she definitely didn’t want to kill anyone on her side.

Throwing Sayrdarralouche towards the mana fire was an obvious ‘seemed like a good idea at the time’. She wanted to kill the overtly evil dragon quickly, and the mana fire is already present. It may be her ‘enemy’, even as an unthinking, non-sapient entity, but what is truly more efficient than pitting one’s enemies against each other?

That said, never has the phrase “the road to hell is paved with good intentions” resonated more with Zuzia than this day. She threw a video game boss in order to defeat him. She created a potential cataclysm bordering on breaching the veil to hell itself in the process of doing so.

Neith replies with his warm and ‘knightly’ tone, “I know not what a doopeh or doopyeh are, my Lady, but I wasn’t planning to decorate my armor with them. The diamonds would make good mana storage, though.”

“Have we heard anything from the kobolds and Ahok about our “mana battery” armor?” asks Magnir.

“Not yet. Though, it hasn’t been very long since we’ve started this campaign.” Neith looks at the mana fire, which is looming ever closer to both themselves and Sayrdarralouche’s corpse. “I fear we will have our most useful new tools after we need them.”

Zuzia scoffs. Hers was an era of relative ‘peace’ established through the overwhelming firepower the “superpower” nations of the world had aimed at each other at all times. There was always the combined darkness formed of violence, crime, and skirmishes. But, the scope was always rather contained in the grand scheme of things.

“So, where to next, gents? Should we keep digging? Push ol’ Smok Crystalski into the fire? Or, do you guys have some magic to try on stopping the fire?”

“Stripping away the surface works to a degree,” states Magnir. “But, both of us have expended most of what we have fighting Sayrdarralouche. We would need a wind storm on par with a hurricane to strip away meaningful portions of the mana fire, and Her Greatness Hekate is probably the only one with enough mana to do so.”

“And, not enough experience to handle it,” adds Neith.

“You say that rather confidently. If that’s the case, why haven’t you oh-so-wise and experienced dragons taught her?”

Magnir becomes noticeably awkward, but Neith explains without the same level of discomfort, “Hekate was a slave for most of her life and sequestered by the former dragon lord. It’s only since meeting Daniel that she has been afforded the increase in strength and the books she studies anytime she’s not with him. If and when a spell I am a greater master is on Hekate’s mind, I will gladly help her see to its mastery. Until then, she is learning to be an Empress, learning to be a warrior, learning to be a hero, and learning to be a free teenage girl for the first time in her life. Time is on her side in the absence of calamities. Unfortunately, I am also woefully unprepared for the current calamity. As are we all. It is, if Daniel’s nukes, as you call them, can stop this mana fire, sheer luck that our Emperor is paranoid enough to have build more of his so-called god-smiters in the off-chance another Devourer came into existence. Uh! No-No offense meant to your God, of course, my Lady.”

Zuzia nods in understanding. She knows that the denizens of Zenkon have their own culture, their own religions, and their own beliefs. The dragons don’t seem to have strong beliefs in their own god or gods, but do seem to view Amalaskae and Ryukana as “lower-ranking gods that can be interacted with”.

And, by that measure, since Hekate apparently possesses the capacity to grow ever-stronger, she may end up in a “demi-goddess” role before she knows it.

“I suppose Mała does work hard, the little dummy.”

“Indeed,” agrees Neith. Though he’s a loyal knight of the Fievegal, he doesn’t shy away from treating Hekate as what she is; a young girl bordering on the edge of womanhood, but burdened with a heap of responsibilities she’s not ready for and bolstered by an army of friends that she has no choice but to trust.

The grey dragon adds, “But, as Sir Magnir said, I believe we may benefit from returning to the forward operations center to get some rest. Magnir and I can withstand total mana depletion, but with the scope of our enemies, such as Sayrdarralouche, who could appear at any time, I believe we should conserve what we have for the moment.”

“That’s reasonable. I just…” Zuzia looks to the mana fire. “I… hate that we’re just going to rest while… this is still burning.”

“Please allow me to speak of old dragon wisdom, my Lady. ‘A dragon bone is just a bone.’”

Zuzia looks up at the grey dragon knight, who stands a few centimeters taller than her in his human form.

Sensing her confusion, he smiles gently and explains, “If you’re dead, your bones can be used, but they’re still just bones. We’re far more useful alive.”

“Ah…” mutters Zuzia as she realizes it. “Alright… You’re right. But… We’re sure no one is here?”

“No one we can help,” replies Magnir. “Even if they were alive and hiding from us, there would be signs of their sweat or mana. If they have the mana to hide from Sir Neith, then they should be suffering in agony from this accursed strange mana.” The blue dragon shakes his head with a flicking motion that reminds her a bit of a gigantic dog. He doesn’t have floppy ears, of course, but he sends the ripple through his body in an effort to “shake off” the feeling, by the looks of it.

“Are you both feeling alright?” Zuzia can’t help but notice that the two dragons and their armor seem to have mostly become glowing rainbows of moving color, like a chameleon on all of the hardest drugs at the same time. Sharmellkolle, which isn’t indestructible enough to withstand Zuzia, seems to react to magical energy rather directly.

“Our armor diffuses most of it, my Lady,” replies Magnir. “Or at least, it’s more like being in a freezer, I suppose, but with heat instead of cold.”

Neith scoffs. “Human-kin call them ‘saunas’ I believe.”

Zuzia manages to chuckle, She hasn’t seen a sauna yet on Zenkon, but she’s quite familiar with the steam baths popular on Earth. “For lizards that can breathe fire, you sure have been stingy, haven’t you? Sir Neith, tell your Emperor, Lord Idiot of the Nine Realms, that I’ll accept a sauna for now in lieu of the beer he owes me.” She points at the grey dragon fearlessly, adding, “But know this, I won’t forgive the beer debt. A beer debt is unforgivable.”

The two dragons laugh, and Magnir approaches to allow the other two to climb onto his back. Neith can essentially change forms at will, but for now, he remains in his human form.

Zuzia notices one of the shuttles flying over Sayrdarralouche’s body, and she asks, “What are they doing?”

“Looks like a survey of our old comrade,” retorts Magnir. “Grendel Six and those new mercenaries are onboard.”

“Wulfsten and his guys!?” asks Zuzia excitedly. “Wh-Why would they be surveying his corpse?”

“Because some things ARE too good to be true,” replies the blue dragon. “And, the mercenaries know they can’t fight him, so they have no good reason to lie about what they find. Other than pocketing a few diamonds and some of that starfall crystal he seems to have become.”

“Give me a block of coal, and I’ll punch it as hard as I can,” jokes Zuzia. “You can have that one.”

“Hahaha! Thank you, my Lady. I’ll graciously accept if that day comes. If you’d like, I can bring you to your friends.”

“I’d recommend you take a break,” interjects Neith before she can answer. “The mercenaries know their own limits, and you, me, Magnir, Hekate, Senn, and Serrentuk are crucial to whatever strategy we collectively come up with. Others will likely be important as well. But, we have a momentary lull and we’re all exhausted.”

“You’re right, General. Forgive me,” offers Magnir.

“No forgiveness needed, Brother. It is an offer I would make myself if I hadn’t the life experience I have.”

Zuzia listens to them, and she can’t help but agree. As much as she would love to adventure with Wulfsten, Verbert, and Halkadon again, she knows that she’s a heavyweight in this battle. Neith and Magnir would likely respect her decision to abandon the “heroics” in favor of her own whims, or even if she decided that she couldn’t handle all of this chaotic, apocalyptic nonsense and wanted to run away entirely, by the sounds of it, they wouldn’t bat an eye.

But, that’s not who Zuzia is. She didn’t join the Polish military, nor has she ever really aspired to save lives in her normal life. But, she was chosen because she fit a specific niche that Amalaskae found suitable, and she was granted God’s blessings.

Hah. Fine. Even God rested on the seventh day. Even if it’s only the seventh hour, I’m only human, right? These two have a point.

“Fine. But, I’m counting on you two to keep me in the loop. If Geirahoel is to be believed, Daniel would lie right to my face if he believes he’s protecting me, right?”

Both dragons laugh, and Magnir spreads his wings for takeoff. Neith replies warmly, “Yes, that is unfortunately the case. I certainly mean no disrespect, but our Emperor is the weakest of us, yet he is so quick to place himself at the very snout of our operations, it makes it most stressful to be charged with his protection.”

“Don’t want to make your little sister cry, is it, Sir Neith?” teases Zuzia as she braces herself on Magnir’s back.

But, without a hint of embarrassment, shame or reservation, Neith replies, “Of course. I did not attack Morthybargaron when I was weak because it would have meant her certain death as well. I instead waited until I had the power I was confident could kill him, and…” The dragon balls his hand into his fist as he clings to Magnir’s back beside Zuzia. “I was robbed of my revenge by the most magnanimous, foolish brother I could ever ask for. I would not dare request the resurrection of my sworn enemy, but I can’t deny a certain frustration that I will never know the taste of his blood on my tongue as his heart beats his last. I will defend the killer of my enemy with my dying breath, but I will regret my own follies and my lack of haste all the same.”

Zuzia smiles bitterly. She has no deep-seated desires for revenge. The closest would be Yaulander, but even so, she escaped him relatively unharmed, in no small part thanks to the dragon sitting next to her.

But, she wholly understands Neith’s desire to hate something, and to, in turn, destroy that something with his own hands. For Zuzia, it was the cancer that claimed her father’s life when she was a child, the depression and withering her mother experienced as a result, and the old age that finally caught up to her invincible grandpa.

But, because her enemies were so intangible, Zuzia learned that revenge isn’t a desire of the heart, but of the blood that flows through it. Blood, hatred, and revenge can be shed. But a person can’t live without their actual heart.

“The desire for revenge feels like it comes from the heart because that’s where it burns most, Sir Neith. Having lost my family to causes that could not be halted by any means of my own hands, there was no revenge to be had. There was only the realization that life is worth protecting the people who are alive. I know you both probably know that several times more than I do, what with your million-year lifespans, but in just twenty eight years… no, far less than that…” She swallows the thought that she lost the words to even finish. She knows what she intended to say, but it doesn’t need to be said.

Rather, she continues, “On Earth, there are sayings like ‘those who seek revenge should dig two graves’ and other philosophical whatever to describe how self-destructive it is. But, revenge on a dead man, er… dead dragon won’t protect Geirahoel, or Enya, or Daniel, or even your fiancee. Revenge is a personal matter. For those of us committed to doing the best we can for the people we love… life is worth focusing on them. A-At least… That’s my opinion.”

The two dragons are quiet as Magnir carries them into the air with his massive draconic form.

Neith replies softly, “You’re right. And, I have no resentment in my heart for Daniel. That is the truth. In time, I am confident that I will come to surprass my thirst for revenge. In time.” He smiles, adding, “But then, if I have done my duty by my fiancee, Roestren… I suppose I will soon need to focus on my son or daughter, hm?”

Zuzia smiles at him. Neith is always seemingly upbeat, though he takes himself seriously as well. And, that energy is infectious. Minutes ago, Zuzia was in despair at the thought of all of the lives she destroyed. And, while she still has lingering fears and doubts about that very subject, she will absolutely kiss and hug Hekate until the fox-eared girl tries to vaporize her.

But, Neith and Magnir brought her this far, and though she has far less rapport with Magnir, she can tell he similarly values a very ‘humble’ lifestyle, considering he’s a literal dragon. He cares about his own beloved partner in life, the Fievegal’s future under which his children will grow, and defeating the enemies of his family and friends, assuming he dissociates his role as a knight from the actual honor-bound code Zuzia would cite from Earth.

Neith and Magnir are both respectable and respectful, speaking highly of Daniel who, so far, has let Zuzia act as a free agent allied with him, rather than the slave she technically is. Her heart remains skeptical, but she does have a small inkling of hope that, if these two dragons, particularly, can find purpose, contentment, and meaning within the Fievegal, than little ol’ Zuzia can as well.

And, if they can so readily forgive him for using a nuclear weapon on their world, even knowing how devastating they are, then perhaps they can forgive Zuzia for what is about to befall them all.

Whether or not a job was ‘finished’ is irrelevant while the cliff of apocalypse continues to crumble away.

***