Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Natharil awoke with something tight around her neck, itching and scraping against her scales. She tried to remove it but that’s when she realized she was strapped down. Strapped down like some animal! If she wasn’t distracted by the movement of a human in her peripheral vision who tilted the bed she was on up and undid the clasps that held her ankles and wrists to the bed, she would’ve been highly offended. As it was, she was still offended and her hands went up to grip at the itching on her neck, discovering an offending collar on said body part.

The lizard in her was suddenly disgusted, the audacity to trap her neck and remove her family’s clothing in replacement of these rags made her feel like a slave. And she detested slavery with every fiber of her being.

She growled and would’ve lunged for the woman who told her to head upstairs, but her soldier training held her back, telling her she had to figure out her surroundings and assess her situation before attempting to do anything brash.

Then she was left alone. That was perplexing. She was a soldier, a cleric. She could cast magic with a wave of her fingers and they just...let her wander the ship? Of course, she wasn’t stupid enough to try burning the ship down until she knew what was going on, but the point was still there.

Resigning herself to her current predicament, she finished searching the floor she’d been on before heading to the next deck.

There she was told that the collar on her neck was there to prevent her from using Source magic — not that she used it much in the first place, she was aware of the dangers it posed. But until then she’d been so focused on assessing her situation that the emptiness that arose from not having access to her Source magic hadn’t hit her until then. A light panic swelled within her as she tried not to vomit at the empty feeling, but she choked it down.

She was one of her people’s powerful Generals; she would not break here in front of these magisters.

After she’d gotten her barings from discovering her lack of Source, she wandered around the ship to where she was supposed to get registered. It perplexed her that she would have to be registered when she didn’t even want to be here. She hadn’t signed up to be shackled and shipped off to Fort Joy.

While she was looking around, she met a strange elf who, after licking her skin, remarked that she had been thinking of someone she was close to in her sleep. Her tail drooped and she felt a pang of sadness hit her at the painful reminder of her situation. Yes, she had been thinking of someone she’d loved. But she didn’t know the fate of him as she’d been captured and taken against her will.

As she continued searching around, she found a human standing in a corner. He had an air about him that made her want to salute, but she didn’t. They had a conversation about why a magister nearby was giving him the stink eye while he adjusted her collar to make it more comfortable. She was grateful and dipped her head in thanks to him.

Walking away from the human, she suddenly heard the tone of a male who sounded annoyed as he snapped at a cook for something like a five-course meal. Moving her way towards the sound, she spotted a male lizard talking to a female lizard who was the cook. She frowned. While Natharil did enjoy a good meal, many a times on the battlefield she had to make due with military rations. 

“I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation,” she said, stepping closer, her tail swaying behind her. As she looked at the other female lizard, a spark of recognition hit her. This cook had been one of her own. She felt sorrow within her at the fate of one of her loyal servants stuck to the same fate as herself.

That’s when male turned toward her, his scale color hard to see in the flickering fire light, and she was struck by the handsomeness of his features. Of course, his appearance didn’t improve his attitude as he suddenly reached up and grabbed her chin, examining her.

Slightly in shock, she didn’t move, and her gaze was drawn to his. Such beautiful eyes, and his focus….damn. She could just imagine how well he would do on the battlefield, scrutinizing his opponents with his sharp gaze.

He then stepped back and began to ask her some questions about her cooking skills, fashion sense, and finally grooming habits. Wondering where these lines of questions were going, she answered him. She was a decent cook, was semi fashionable, and only kept up a good appearance when she had to.

He frowned at her before nodding. “Alright then, from now on, you are my slave.”

It took a moment of shocked silence and staring before she felt anger stir within her. He dare call her a slave? She was a soldier and a general at that! She would not let some pompous lizard who seemed to think the world owed him his existence call her a slave. Although, thinking about it, she guessed that whoever this lizard was, he must be pretty high in society to declare one of his kinsmen as a slave.

“Listen here,” she said, her voice coming out sweet but with a small hint of venom in it as she tried to rein in her anger. “I am no one's slave. Least of all yours. And last I checked, you were chained and collared much like myself, which makes you a slave just as much as myself.”

“You’re a feisty one, I’ll give you that. But nevertheless, my mind is made up. I doubt any of the rest of this lot would be more qualified to be my slave than you.”

Her tail lashed behind her in anger. “I. Am. Not. Your. Slave. If I wasn’t aware of how many magisters are watching us, I would certainly put you in your place. But alas, I would rather not get taken into custody again. But next time once we get to Fort Joy, I won’t hesitate to put you in your place,” she growled softly.

He gave her a look that seemed to spark with as much venom as her voice, and he reached a hand out, his arm moving quickly to aim for her neck. Instinctively, she reached out and gripped his arm, moving her body nimbly before twisting his arm in an uncomfortable position. “Watch yourself,” she hissed softly before she let him go and headed to go get registered.

She vaguely felt eyes watching her back, but she didn’t turn around for fear that if she did, she might very well do more than lock his arm.

The Red Prince watched the female lizard who had just assaulted him walk away. If he wasn’t rubbing his arm from the move she’d pulled, he would’ve made her pay for that. Be that as it was, he was slightly intrigued. The way she walked, even when angry, seemed to radiate an air of good breeding with the hint of a soldier lying beneath.

While he hadn’t been on the front lines before, he recognized her movements when comparing it to the soldiers that he saw around the palace. She was a curious one.

He was still furious with her. Why was she, a fellow lizard, seeming to be so distraught over slavery? Granted, slavery of kin was no longer practiced, but her reaction seemed to suggest she was against the Empire’s Ancient Laws. She made no sense to him.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts. He didn’t know if he wanted to see her again, or steer clear of her. Deciding it would be useless to dwell on the notion, he then turned around, focusing his attention back on the cook who was scrambling around in the drawers for food and various cookware.

Chapter Text

She was in darkness, her body weightless. And then, a voice. A voice which called to her and brought her out of darkness.  “I have plans for you, my child” the voice said.

The next thing she knew there was blinding light assaulting her eyelids. She cracked open her eye before shutting it tightly. For a moment, she wondered where she was, until she felt sand beneath her accompanied by the aches of what could have been severe bruises if not for her hardened scales which helped protect her from damage. She groaned softly and finally opened her eyes, spotting blue sky above her.

“Ah good, you’re awake. Would’ve been a pity to see you die after dragging you to the shore.”

That voice. She recognized that voice, it was the male lizard from the ship. Bracing her hands under her, she pushed herself up and turned a bit, spotting him. She felt a surge of anger slice through her and she very well thought of attacking him, but she didn’t feel like she was in the best shape to do so. He gave her a glance with his yellow eyes passing over her body as if scrutinizing her. She huffed and got to her feet, shaking the sand from her scales.

It was then that she finally got a good look at him. His red scales shimmered like rubies in the sunlight and she recalled hearing about a lizard who looked just like him. She’d never been able to see him in person before considering the Empire worked so hard to keep him hidden and safe from harm.

“Forgive me if I don’t bow, Red Prince. I’m afraid any attempt to do so could end up with me on the ground in an embarrassing position, most likely eating sand,” she said, trying to be respectful but refusing to demean herself more than he’d tried to do earlier on the ship.

“I suppose it would make you look more of a fool than your unbecoming appearance does already,” he said, turning his gaze out to the ocean. “Since you came back for the rest of us on the ship and have yet to attempt your foolish attempt to attack me that I will spare you the decency of being my slave.”

She bristled at that comment but chose to say nothing about it, knowing it would be fruitless and a waste of breath. She turned back to the water and looked out at the great vastness of the sea, thinking about times long past on the sea sailing across its surface. A soft, warm ocean wind brushed past her, filling her nose with salt. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply.

“Tell me, what do you see when you look out across the water?” he asked, glancing at her again and his voice pulling her from her reverie.

She opened her eyes and shook her head to clear her thoughts and focus on the present. “I see times spent at war and peace, sailing across the ocean. I see soldiers both leaving and making their way to and from their homes and families.”

He hummed. “Memories, quiet so. I see a vast Empire spanning across the horizon,” he said as if she’d even asked him what he’d seen. Not that she had.

“As the Prince of the Empire, I suppose you intend to return to it if we figure out where we are and how to escape?” she asked, glancing at him.

He turned to focus his attention on her. “We?”

She turned her gaze from him and began combing the beachfront for weapons -- even if there were makeshift, as well as using subtle healing spells to lessen her aches and pains. “Yes, we. It would benefit us both to travel together for the time being. If the stories I’ve heard are correct, your skills are best with close quarters combat. Meanwhile, I am both a magic caster and a healer.”

His gaze became critical for a moment as he observed her. Then he nodded slightly. “I suppose you will be needing my help,” he said.

She rolled her eyes as she finally found what she needed to make makeshift weapons. She then began to craft what she needed. “I can take care of myself just fine, Prince. I am a soldier after all,” she said.

“Well, you do come off as quite a brute, yes.”

She sighed. Zorl-Stissa, give me patience , she prayed silently, willing herself not to get irritated like she had on the ship. “I only come off as a brute when navigating testy nobles who seem to think everyone owes them a favor for merely being in their presence. It tends to get tiresome when they believe everyone and everything else is below them. It also makes them appear incompetent and foolish,” she said as she finished making her shield. To top it off, she also had made him a shield and simple bladed weapon. She stood to her feet and faced him, giving him the smile she used when trying not to get annoyed.

“Here, you can have these since you don’t seem to have any weapons of your own. It wouldn’t do to get the Prince of the Empire killed after being exiled now, would it,” she said.

He eyed her for a moment before he looked at the weapons. “I suppose these will do. Although I will require much better weapons and armor once we reach somewhere civilized.”

“As will I. But these will have to do in a pinch from what I had to work with,” she said before she turned.

“I should take the lead, it wouldn’t do to let a mere soldier lead me around,” he said, taking strides to try to move past her. Unfortunately, because of his shorter frame, his legs didn’t have quite the same reach as her, making it harder for him to stay ahead of her if she strode at her normal pace.

“Oh, by all means, Your Highness . I won’t stop you.” While she knew she could very well lead, it might be for the best to have her at the back to heal and support him if a fight broke out. And this would be a great opportunity for her to study him in person in a fight. She’d heard stories that he was good, but she’d obviously never seen him fight herself and the soldier in her was curious.

As they wandered the beach, they had a few skirmishes with voidwoken -- small larva that reminded her of beetles. She didn’t have a weapon yet herself, so she used her shield to shove them away before casting some necromantic spells on them to keep them away from her. Meanwhile, Red Prince stabbed and sliced the ones attacking him.

Once they were dead, she scanned the area before crouching down and observing the voidwoken, taking anything that seemed useful. After that, she looked over at a dead magister and walked over as something glimmering caught her eye. Smiling to herself, she picked up the wand she found and slipped it into her makeshift rope belt.

“It is troublesome that these voidwoken came to shore with us,” Red Prince said.

She glanced at him as she stood, looking at the bodies. “It is. With our Sources muted, you would think they wouldn’t appear. This bares ill tidings,” she said softly, subconsciously reaching up to tug on her collar.

He nodded. “Quite so. Now, if you are done digging around in corpses, let's be on our way,” he said before he turned and started heading back away from the beach.

She sighed softly and followed after him, making sure to stash anything useful that they could trade in a backpack she’d found.

They’d set out from the beach in the late morning, and by the time they reached the stony walls of what Natharil guessed was Fort Joy, it was early evening. She stopped when they spotted a group of magisters confronting what appeared to be a lizard magister. They were accusing her of helping sourcerers escape. At the mention of the escaping sourcerers, she couldn’t help remembering briefly the two they met earlier that day who had been speaking of a Magister helping them escape.

There wasn’t even a fight -- in the blink of an eye, the female kin was dead, her body seeming to have exploded internally. She frowned softly and looked at Red Prince. He seemed indifferent, but she could’ve sworn he had a slight look of sympathy in his eyes for a split second.

Then the kin’s killer turned and walked away with the monstrosities that were with him following. She couldn’t help but narrow her eyes, trying to get a good look at the monstrosities as they left -- she’d never seen anything like them. They looked very dangerous and deadly. She shuddered internally, she’d hate to have to fight them, but odds are, she probably would have to.

She didn’t have time to dwell on it as the Red Prince moved passed the body without a second glance and into the fort. Natharil followed silently, trying to take stalk of the fort as best she could. There were several stone walls around one edge of the fort, all guarded by magisters, but as they stepped further in, no one took a second glance at them.

Fellow sourcerers with collars around their necks wandered pretty much freely wherever they wanted. Of course, there was the watchful eye of the magisters around the entrances, making sure they weren’t causing trouble -- or trying to escape.

The sound of someone yelling obscenities and demanding payment from someone brought her out from her observations and she noticed a human male cornering an elf. Ignoring Red Prince, who at this point had probably decided to look for something more akin to his tastes in terms of comfort, she walked over.

She noted as she approached the soldier from the boat, the one who had readjusted her collar, stepping in to defend the elf. Without much thought, Natharil stepped in. “I suggest you leave the elf alone, human,” she said.

The human turned to look at her and the fellow soldier. He narrowed his eyes before he backed off with a grumble, realizing he was outmatched. She couldn’t help but smile. She hadn’t wanted to fight, but she would have if it had come down to that.  She then turned as the elf thanked her and said that if she needed anything, to come see her in a cave nearby.

She gave her a nod. “It was my pleasure,” she said.

The elf beamed at her and wandered off.

The soldier then turned to her and looked her up and down. “You handled that situation pretty well,” he said.

She shrugged. “I couldn’t just stand by and do nothing. In a place like this, race should be the least of our worries.”

He nodded in agreement. “Name’s Ifan ben-Mezd. I remember you from the boat -- I probably wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t come back for us.” He stuck out his hand for a shake.

She took it and gave him a grin. “Natharil. And it was not a problem. I can’t condemn people when there’s a chance I could save them.”

He grinned and shook her hand once, his grip strong. “I have some business to take care of here, but if you’re willing, we could team up and escape from this place together.”

She tipped her head as he let go of her hand, considering the offer. He appeared to be a capable fighter and his company was definitely easier to deal with than the Prince.

“Alright, you have yourself a deal,” she said.

“Good. I’ll speak with you later. I suggest you find somewhere to settle until we’re able to figure out an escape plan.”

She nodded. “Agreed. Although, I do think it would be easier to escape with more than just the two of us.”

“I’ll keep my eyes out for anyone who could help out,” he said.

“And I will do likewise.” With that, she and Ifan parted company and she stepped away. She noticed Red Prince hadn’t wandered off, but instead watched the whole exchange. He was looking at her with scrutiny.

“Why did you feel so inclined to help someone of the lesser races?” he asked.

“I felt inclined to help because I don’t see the point in seeing others as below me when they are in the same situation as I.”

He narrowed his eyes just a tad but he said nothing to that.

“You seemed awfully comfortable with if not interested in that human male. Pray tell, what was so interesting about him?”

She gave him a glance. “So I’m not allowed to find those not like us interesting because they are different?”

“It just seems odd.”

“Well, you’ll be happy to know that he wants to break out of this place as much as I do, and as much as I assume you do. He offered to help us escape. If you have a problem with his presence, we can discuss that after we are out of this place. And until we have an escape plan, I’m going to get a lay out of the land and hopefully get us something better to wear and fight with than what we have now. If you want to join me, that’s up to you, I won’t stop you or force you to join me,” she said.

He paused. “Escape Fort Joy, what a novel idea. I suppose I will allow him to accompany us.”

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.” Then she set about wandering around the fort, getting the layout of the land.

Chapter Text

He came to her in her dreams. Out of reach but looking at her with loving eyes. He approached her and gently placed one of his scaled black hands on her cheek, wiping away the tears that started to run. ‘I’m sorry, my love. I cannot be the one for you, my time is up, and your true destiny is closer than you think,’ he said softly.

‘Wait, Anolis!’ she called as he pulled away. She tried to move towards him, but he kept walking away, eventually fading from view. The last thing she saw of him was his onyx tail swaying from side to side. Then he was gone, leaving her cold and alone.

She sank to her knees, not caring about whether she was crying or not in her dreams. It was one of the few places she could ever truly let herself be weak. That’s when she started to feel a pleasant warmth coming from off to the side. Stopping her tears, she looked up and squinted as she saw sharp yellow eyes that reminded her of fire, gleaming out from the darkness. She stood and looked toward them. The eyes and their owner began to make their way towards her, starting to look confused. As she started to make out the owner of said eyes, she awoke from her dream to early hours before dawn, when darkness still blanketed the land.

She rubbed groggily at her eyes and looked around, trying to remember where she was. Spotting the form of a male Lizard next to her, she instinctively called out, “Anolis?”

When the Lizard didn’t stir, she came back to reality. Sitting up, she rested her head in her hands for a moment before she stood to her feet. She glanced once at the sleeping form of Red Prince and Sebille in their small area at the Sanctuary of Amadia.

They’d escaped Fort Joy a few days ago after finding Sebille and Natharil decided her skills would be useful, so she’d requested her to come along. Then they’d spent several days wandering the hollow marshes, killing undead and any other manner of beast they’d stumbled upon. They’d even killed the witch who had been the cause of the ship being attacked by voidwoken.

Shaking the remnants of her dream — despite not being of the House of Dreams — she headed down to look out across the water from behind the smithy. As she approached, she noticed Ifan was also there.

“Hello, Ifan ben-Mezd,” she said as she stopped beside him.

He glanced over at her and gave her a light smile. “Natharil,” he greeted. “I see I’m not the only earlier riser.”

“Yeah...I couldn’t sleep, and you?”

“Yeah. Nerves?”

“Sort of, I guess.”

His gaze became curious, and she sent a quick thank you to Zorl-Stissa when he didn’t ask. Perhaps one day she’d tell him and the others. “How are you feeling about this plan of Gareth’s?” She asked.

He became thoughtful. “It sounds like it could be suicide, but with the purging wand, it might work.”

She laughed lightly. “And escaping the Fort wasn’t?”

“You have me there,” he chuckled. “I just hope that we are able to make it out alive.”

She smiled. “I’m sure we will. I have faith.”

He grunted in acknowledgement before the two of them fell into silence, staring out across the waves. Eventually, as the sun began to rise, she turned to leave. “I’m going to say a prayer to the gods and hope that our luck holds out.”

He gave her a nod and a pat on the shoulder. “I’ll go help Gareth with preparations.”

She gave him a light grin and headed to the statue of Amadia. While she would have preferred Zorl-Stissa, she prayed to any god if she felt the need to.

While she knelt and began her prayer, she became aware of a presence behind her. She didn’t move or turn around until she was finished and when she did, she caught Red Prince watching her with a scrutinizing look in his eyes.

“You come to mock me for my faith, have you?” She snapped, not really in the mood to deal with his superior attitude after the dream she’d had which she was still trying to figure out. It didn’t help that his eyes were the same ones as the ones in her dreams. She briefly wondered if those eyes had been his, but then she wondered why he would even be in her dreams in the first place. It made no sense to her.

“No, I just don’t see much point in prayer. The gods will do as they want. We are but nothing to them but champions and pawns in their elaborate game.”

She gave him a look, observing him for a moment before sighing and getting to her feet, brushing non-existent dust from her armor. “I suppose you are right. But it is hard to break years of a habit one learned in childhood.”

“Hmm. I confess you have a point there,” he said with a dip to his head.

She snorted lightly and shook herself. “Well, I think it’s about time to head out. I’ll check up with Sebille and Ifan,” she said before she headed off to find their two companions.

His dream had started with images of a female lizard he’d seen quite often in his dreams. But then the dream had shifted and he heard the cries of another female and his curiosity got the better of him. As he approached, she glanced over and had noticed him, getting to her feet. He hadn’t gotten a very good look at her before the dream ended, but her blue eyes shimmered like moonstone and her scales had an off-red color. In the light of his dream he couldn’t make out the exact colors, but he knew it wasn’t exactly red.

He’d awoken after she’d faded from his dream, their eyes having met, to the sky beginning to lighten from the rising sun. He had sat up and stretched before deciding to take a walk around the base to stretch out his limbs before the assault on the Shriekers that would no doubt take place today.

While on his walk, as the sun had risen high enough that people were beginning to get up and pack, he noticed a form crouching amongst the blessed waters that surrounded Amadia’s shrine. As he approached, he noticed that the figure inside was the female lizard, Natharil. Her scales seemed to glow slightly amongst the healing waters, which made her normally magenta scales seem a much lighter color. He suspected that part of her glowing might have to do with the fact that she was a healer -- he’d seen her glow like that quite a few times when healing himself and the others while in the midst of a fight.

That’s when she’d noticed him watching and had made a snide remark, seeming a bit irked about his presence. He hadn’t been judging her in that moment, but had been observing her, of course he’d never admit that out loud. Then she’d left him to go check in on the others. It was probably just as well. He wasn’t the religious type and didn’t really care to have a conversation about it with her.

With a glance around briefly, he turned and headed to go wait for the others to head out so they could deal with the Shriekers and get off this blasted island once and for all.

Natharil, Lost Princess by Frostbite711

Chapter Text

The sky was dim and eerie as if the Reaper’s Coast was waiting for a storm to break as Natharil headed toward Driftwood with the others. She was worried at the presence of the voidwoken along with the poisoned fish. Both of those concerned her immensely.

While they walked, she thought back to her encounter with the gods back in the Hall of Echoes before they had arrived here, recalling what had happened:

Looking around her, she realized she was in the Hall of Echoes and she tried to figure out what she was doing and why she was here, at least until she saw a tree of some kind which was holding several figures aloft.

For the first time since she had been declared Godwoken, she spotted Red Prince nearby the tree, looking up at one of the figures. His tail swaying back and forth lightly. She then headed down toward the tree herself to see what had his attention.

As she approached, she sucked in a deep breath. “Zorl-Stissa...and the other gods. By the Seven,” she said softly, stepping forward.

He glanced at her, seeming surprised as to why she was next to her. “I find it interesting that the two of us are here now together while the gods lay tied up and strangled like prisoners being hung for crimes they committed.”

“I would assume it’s because Zorl-Stissa does not have the strength to meet with the two of us individually. That tree must be sapping her strength,” she said and without thought, she stepped forward, summoning the source within her and casting “Bless” on their god.

The bindings on Zorl-Stissa loosened and she gasped a bit. 

Then the god spoke to them. “My Champions, you must hurry. The Voidwoken draw nearer. They seek to destroy both of us. One of you must ascend and become divine.”

Natharil glanced at Red Prince who met her gaze. Whereas she felt unsteady and weak at hearing this, he seemed to accept this like the destiny he already had of being Emperor. They said nothing to each other before they found themselves back on the Lady Vengeance where the souls of the fallen Godwoken wandered before they found Malady and she brought them back to the mortal realms.

She considered bringing up what happened, but it seemed the others' faces echoed her thoughts. But unlike her, their minds were also occupied with other things: revenge, answers, and destiny. Even though she had her betrothed she wanted to find, she knew she wouldn’t find him here. She wasn’t a dreamer in the slightest, but she had a feeling that he had gone to the Hall of Echoes -- permanently.

So she kept her thoughts to herself for now, focusing on the task at hand. They needed a place to stay and needed to find the Meister. They had a decent amount of gold thanks to the looting they’d done and their gear wasn’t in the worst shape. Natharil lightly reached down and played with the neckline of her armor unconsciously as they approached Driftwood.

On the way, they discovered a damaged caravan. She tried to console the poor dwarf who looked scared out of her wits as she coaxed her to tell her what happened. They discovered that the caravan had been carrying sourcerers so the dwarves had tried to free them -- but then the Voidwoken had arrived and attacked the caravan, carrying the sourcerers away. Natharil placed her hands on her hips and tapped her claws on the belt of her robes as the dwarf ran off.

She took a quick look over and couldn’t help but recall how she’d been on the road back to the Empire when she’d been captured and thrown into a caravan. The magisters had been lucky she’d been too exhausted from the night before to fight back. She lashed her tail angrily at the memory of them drugging her while she struggled to fight, her source clawing mixing with her magic in a weak attempt to fight back before she’d fallen unconscious.

“Come on, we need to get to Driftwood and get ourselves a room,” she said, trying and failing to keep the anger and pain of the memory out of her voice.

She caught the glances of the others and it seemed they’d heard it. Or at least Ifan and Sebille had. If the Red Prince had, he didn’t let on that he had.

It wasn’t too far from the attacked caravan when they saw the city and a young boy ran up to Ifan telling him that someone named “Roost” wanted to see him and that they were north of the city.

By now, the clouds had moved on, leaving the town in sunlight. As they walked through the town on their way to the inn, Sebille and Ifan slipped off to find out more information about Roost, Red Prince went to go find out where Brahmos was, and Natharil was left with getting new supplies and rooms for the night as well as find out what she could about Meister Shiva. 

They’d all agreed that since Natharil had no business in this city to attend to, she would be the one to gather information on the Meister. She’d decided to camp down in the inn, listening to the chatter around her to figure out if anyone knew anything about her. It wasn’t too long before Red Prince came in from the streets and sat beside her quietly. She huffed softly, resting her chin in her hand and swirling the drink before her around a bit.

“Brahmos was said to be here in this tavern. I have yet to find anyone here who knows about him.” He said eventually, his gaze watching her hands which had shifted to lightly tapping the table with her claws.

“Mmm...I heard there was a secret place under this inn called the Under Tavern. Perhaps someone down there would know,” she said slightly absent mindedly. As she caught a glance of his yellow eyes, she couldn’t help but think of her dreams she’d been having with a pair of eyes just like his coming towards her but disappearing before she could figure out who they belonged to.

“An under tavern? Yes, perhaps he is there.”

She nodded quietly. “I have news as well, but i think it would be best to wait for the other-” she broke off as his gaze had seemed to become annoyed. “What?” She asked.

“Are you nervous about something? You’re hand gestures are distracting.”

“Oh!” She stilled her hands and moved them into her lap, beginning to pick lightly on the frills of her robes. “I don’t mean to. I have a hard time keeping still when I’m anxious. I’ll do my best to keep it from being distracting,” she said.

“There’s a lot to be anxious for. Anything in particular bothering you?”

She gave him a curious look. “Why do you care? I’m just some brute to you who is also very opinionated.”

“Well, there’s no one else listening to us and I’m a bit curious. Besides, if I can help you stop your infernal fidgeting, our mission will be that much smoother.”

There was the rude comment she was expecting. She sighed softly and leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest, staring at the drink in front of her. “There’s a lot of things going on in my mind. It’s hard to put a pin on just one thing upsetting me. But at the moment, the most pressing matters for me are the Meister, being chosen as a Godwoken, and…” she hesitated, not sure if she should say anything about what haunted her sleep.

“And?” he prompted, leaning forward with his elbows on the table and his head resting on his hands. He watched her with that intense stare he had.

She stared down those eyes for a moment, not wanting to give in. She wouldn’t let his sharp gaze convince her to reveal her fears. The others didn’t need to see her weak, they needed her strong, and if she had to choose fidgeting over revealing her secrets, she would fidget. His stare seemed to become more intense as he narrowed his eyes, as if he was trying to pry her thoughts from her mind. It was becoming harder to keep silent.

Fortunately, that’s when Sebille and Ifan returned, looking pleased. “We have information on Roost. So, how was your guys’ luck?” Ifan asked.

She cast a look at Red Prince who gave her one last intense look before he leaned back and looked to the others. “I found out that the dreamer I’m looking for had visited this tavern and Natharil believes he is in the under tavern,” he said.

She gave a nod. “I haven’t found much on the meister except where she lives. It’s not very far from here. I don’t know how long it will take to do either so we should divide and conquer again. Ifan, Sebille, would you go check out the Meister’s place? Red Prince and I will head down to the under tavern while you are doing that.”

The group looked at her before agreeing. They then had a quick meal which Natharil paid for, being the one carrying most of the party’s gold, before setting out on their new assignments.

Standing, she ventured towards the under tavern, taking the lead in getting clearance to enter. Then she waved for Red Prince to lead since he would know better than she who he was looking for. Part of her wanted to talk to the dreamer herself, see if her dreams could be explained better, but she would allow the prince to speak to Brahmos. While she would like more clarification of her dreams, she felt her dreams were probably less important than Prince’s quest.

As the two explored the under taverns, she felt a light tap on the shoulder. Turning her head, her gaze met with a male Lizard. “Excuse me, ma’am, are you traveling with the Red Prince?” he asked.

She gave him a cautious look. “Who wants to know?”

“I have a message for him from Brahmos,” he replied.

“Ah, then allow me to bring you to him.” She set off with the male following her as she weaved her way through the under tavern to where the prince was speaking with a dwarf . “Your Majesty,” she said with a slight dip of her head. “He has a message for you from Brahmos.”

The prince looked up when she spoke, his eyes catching hers for a moment before drifting to the male lizard next to her. He gave a nod to the female he’d been talking to and walked over. Natharil stepped back a few paces to give them privacy as she took a look around the room.

There seemed to be an arena of some sort. She recalled briefly the one they’d fought in at Fort Joy and wondered if this was similar. While Prince was still getting information from the other lizard, she spoke to the dwarf that had been with Prince earlier and asked. He nodded and said that this was to find “the One” whatever that was -- all she knew was that “the One” was supposed to save the world. Having won the Fort Joy arena, she felt uncomfortable with the idea of being “the One”.

Religious as she was, she didn’t care much for prophecies as she liked to think she had the choice to make her own destiny. This was also why she didn’t like being called “Godwoken” or finding out she had been chosen by Zorl-Stissa herself to try to become the divine. She’d seen what power did to some people and she didn’t want to end up that way herself. Sure, she was noble by blood, but she’d never really felt like much of a noble her whole life.

She crossed her arms, thinking. She would like to know more about this arena, but she wouldn’t fight in it without the others. While she could handle herself well in a fight, she was not usually a front-line fighter unless she absolutely had to be.

She was so lost in her thoughts, that she didn’t notice Red Prince was done speaking to the other lizard until he walked up to her and lightly touched her shoulder to get her attention while he spoke her name. “Natharil,” he said.

She blinked and looked down at him. “Ah, sorry. I was lost in thought. Did you get what you needed?” she asked.

He gave her a curious look. “Yes, come, let’s head up to go find the others.”

She gave him a nod and followed him silently back up to the main tavern where the others should be waiting.

Chapter Text

Ifan and Sebille explained the situation: Meister Siva had been captured and was being hanged a little ways north of Driftwood. Natharil sighed lightly. It would seem they would have to go save the meister then.

They didn’t hesitate, and immediately set out to go help the Meister. It was getting close to evening when they found her. The lizard was hung up in the air with a rope around her wrists. Natharil couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for her. It must be very uncomfortable. She couldn’t and didn’t want to imagine what her shoulders felt like.

She glanced at the others as they approached and waved to Sebille. “Think you can cut her down while the rest of us distract the magisters?” she asked.

“Of course I can, dear. But I can just as easily attack the guards.”

“Yes,” Natharil agreed, “but you are the best at staying under the radar which is what is needed to make sure she can get out of here safely. I suspect if she doesn’t require a massive amount of healing after this that she will try to make her way back to her place. The magisters wouldn’t have ransacked her home for no reason after all.”

“Alright, fine. But I will help you once she’s free.”

“Should we even let her free? What if she decides to attack us or not give us the information we seek?” Red Prince chimed in.

Natharil sighed and rolled her eyes. “I seriously doubt she’s in the right physical shape to fight us. Her arms must be screaming in pain. Arms aren’t meant to be held aloft like that.”

“Hmmm…I concede to your point,” he said reluctantly.

She gave him a nod and looked toward him and Ifan, moving into position while Sebille approached the Meister from the shadows.

Natharil shouldered her shield off her back before she stepped toward the soldiers, casting infect on the nearest magister who shouted in pain and collapsed to one knee. There was a moment of confusion from the other magisters before Ifan and Red Prince joined the fight and one of the other magisters whistled, calling for more. By this point, Sebille had freed the meister and she darted forward, stabbing the nearest enemy who had their back turned.

There were a few more cries of pain from the surprised magisters as well as a few hisses from Natharil and the others before the magisters lay dead at their feat. Natharil walked over to the others, checking to see if anyone had wounds that would need her to cast a spell, while Sebille began to loot the bodies. Luckily, no one was injured to the point of needing magic, although Ifan had a minor burn on his arm while Red Prince had a cut on his cheek. Natharil set to work pulling out ointments and bandages to care for their wounds.

Ifan gave her a nod and smile. “Thank you, that feels much better,” he said.

“Your magic could make the healing go by much faster, is there a reason as to why you are instead patching up our wounds like someone with no magical talent?” Red Prince asked.

She smirked just a tad and rolled her eyes. Of course he’d ask. She was about to respond before Ifan spoke up.

“Sometimes it’s best to let the body heal naturally instead of relying on magic,” he said. “Besides, there’s something about the slower process that is more...intimate.”

Ifan gave Natharil a look that made her want to squirm, but she kept her attention from his look and instead finished tending to Red Prince’s wound. She wasn’t opposed to being looked at with admiration or even something deeper, she just...didn’t know how to deal with it at the current time. She still felt part of her heart belonged to her betrothed, although she had a bad feeling about his fate. “Ifan is correct. Besides, sometimes it’s best to try healing naturally for some wounds so the body doesn’t forget how to heal itself. I won’t always be around to cast magic,” she said, stepping away from the Red Prince and putting her things back in her pack.

“When you three are done, we need to go speak with the Meister, I saw her make her way back to her house,” Sebille spoke up, having completed her looting.

“Right, of course,” Natharil said before the group set off to the Meister’s house.

When they reached her house, the four of them entered, looking around at the ransacked rooms. The magisters had been searching for something, as to what, Natharil could only guess. The meister was picking some things up, but she appeared to have an injured shoulder.

Natharil moved to help her, but the meister snapped at her and told her there was no time. The meister then directed them to remove a painting and push a button before entering in a very specific code to undo the lock on a hatch. Once that was completed, the lizard led the way down to a basement where she explained they would be doing a ritual and she explained how to do it.

Natharil was finally allowed to tend to Siva’s wounds, but only just basic healing without using magic while the others took out the required items for the ritual. The three of them got started while Natharil finished tending to Siva. When she was finally done, she herself went through the ritual.

Upon completing it, the next thing she knew was she was standing in the Hall of Echoes. This time, Red Prince was not with her. She was alone. Or so she thought.

Ahead of her, she spotted a golden light. Both curious and wary, she approached and paused in her steps at the sight of...herself. She frowned, confused at this. How was it possible?

Her other self spoke to her before teaching her a new spell. She then told her to cast it. With a frown, she cast the spell, curious to what it would do. When her “second self” disappeared to be replaced by Zorl-Stissa, she wasn’t all that surprised, but she was more surprised that she had been given this power. The power to see spirits that lingered in the mortal realm.

She felt her heart stop for a moment. Spirits that still lingered? If Anolis was still alive, perhaps she could find him. She bowed her thanks to the god before taking her leave. Appearing on the other side, she noticed the others were conversing with Meister Siva. She tried to tune in, but all she could think about was this chance. This one small chance to make sure her beloved was well and truly dead. Of course, she believed she would have to find where he would’ve been slain, but she now had a chance.

As the others left and headed upstairs, she couldn’t help but feel slight excitement within her. Her tail swayed behind her happily and for once, she didn’t care about any of the other’s odd looks that they cast in her direction at her behavior which was usually not so cheery.

Then the four of them headed back to the tavern for the night. Sitting around the table, Natharil finally pulled herself from her thoughts to focus on their next tasks.

“Sebille and I need to speak with Roost and the Red Prince needs to speak to his dreamer. Natharil, what about you?“ Ifan asked, glancing at the magenta scaled lizard.

“I...I don’t have any business here. But if we again divide and conquer like we did earlier today, I can head down off with Red Prince while the two of you head to confront or talk to Roost. And then whoever finishes first can join the others or we can meet back at this tavern.”

“I believe it would be better to do the former of your proposition, Natharil,” Red Prince said.

Sebille nodded in agreement. “If we run into more trouble than we can handle, we will try to retreat and wait for you two to show up. Not that I don’t think we can’t handle ourselves, but it would be better if we didn’t die. I still need to kill the Master,” she said with a wicked grin on her face.

Natharil eyed her slightly but said nothing. “They only had one room available unfortunately, so we will all have to share,” she said.

They all looked at her and then sighed. “I suppose this is the best we can do for now,” Ifan said, standing up.

Natharil nodded and stood, leading the way to the room where she unlocked the door and let the others inside before closing the door behind her. The room wasn’t the largest, but it also wasn't the smallest. It had two beds and one chair which sat by the window..

Without saying a word, the Red Prince immediately took one of the beds where he laid down. “Not the most comfortable thing, but it will have to do,” he said.

Nathari shook her head and sat down on the floor near the window. “I’ll let you two decide who wants the bed. I’ll be fine on the ground for the night,” she said to Ifan and Sebille. She wouldn’t try fighting over it. She was used to sleeping in much worse conditions while being on the road, or even before she became a soldier.

Sebille and Ifan looked at each other. The two of them had trouble deciding before they both opted to sleep on it together. Natharil smiled, watching them for a moment before curling up to sleep.

Chapter Text

She awoke early, her dreams haunting her yet again. She had no idea what they meant -- why Anolis kept leaving her,  and why she kept being haunted by golden eyes who she did not yet know who they belonged to. Perhaps Brahmos could help her. She would have to try asking, but she did not want to tell anyone of her dreams.

Now that she was awake, she stood and stretched out the kinks in her muscles that had formed due to laying on a hard wooden floor and walked toward the window. It was still dark out. She sighed, remembering again another night back at Fort Joy where she had awoken early due to the same dream. But this time, her dream had not shown Anolis, but instead the golden eyes pouring into her, searching her, examining her. Her name coming to her as whispers on the wind. And not the name everyone else knew, but her true name. The name that her parents had given her upon birth. The name she had been sworn not to use often in order to not bring shame to her family.

She looked up to the starry night sky, remembering nights long past camping or looking out and wishing for a different life while she remained trapped in the cage of her birth. She closed her eyes and lowered her head, sighing deeply.

Then she stiffened as a sleepy voice that somehow still seemed to hold a sort of mocking, arrogant tone that made her hackles rise spoke to her. “Pray tell, what makes you sigh so loudly in the morning?”

She lifted her head and turned around to face the Red Prince who was watching her, blinking sleep from his eyes.

“Why do you want to know?” she asked.

“You have been mostly preoccupied since yesterday. It’s not hard to guess that your mind has wandered and you have been thinking about someone or something important to you,” he said.

She tipped her head to the side and crossed her arms, her tail swaying to and fro as she considered what to say. She didn’t know if she wanted to reveal her thoughts, especially with Sebille and Ifan. Not that she didn’t trust them, but...her dreams were best not told to someone who was not her kin.

“It’s hard to say. And not something I care to speak of in front of...present company. Even if they are asleep,” she finally responded, nodding to them.

He was silent as he watched her before he finally got himself up. “I suppose I can ask you once we are on the road and away from these two. Although I would prefer you spoke your thoughts now, I can wait,” he said.

“I appreciate it.”

He gave her a nod and began to put on his armor which he had taken off the night before. She nodded and also began to put on her armored robes. While she could wear armor or robes, she preferred to wear clothing that was a mix so it provided protection, but also wouldn’t prevent her from casting spells as some armor tended to do.

It was around then that Ifan and Sebille woke. They seemed a bit surprised and embarrassed to find themselves hugging each other in their sleep, but neither Natharil or Red Prince made a comment about it. Natharil assumed that Red Prince didn’t really care, and as for herself, she saw no need to bring it up.

The four of them headed down to the main room where they sat down where Ifan and Natharil went over the plan to make sure they were ready. Once they were done, the group headed to the entrance of Driftwood where they would travel with each other until they needed to split off.

As they approached the Paladin camp, Natharil gave a glance at the Red Prince as he took the lead, not waiting to say goodbye to the other two. “I wish you luck, Sebille, Ifan,” Natharil said with a dip of her head.

“You as well, Natharil,” Ifan said with a grin before he turned and followed Sebille.

Natharil watched them for a brief moment longer before turning and catching up to the Red Prince who was already weaving his way through the Paladin’s camp, looking for the dreamer. They couldn’t find the lizard, but she did recognize a familiar face from Fort Joy, a paladin they’d fought alongside magisters with. “Paladin Cork!” she called out.

The man in question turned and for a moment seemed to be having trouble recognizing her before he broke into a grin. “Ah, Natharil, my friend. It is good you made it out of that fort. Tell me, what brings you here?”

“Well,” she paused and glanced towards Red Prince who upon noticing her glance, walked over. “We’re looking for a Dreamer. A lizard named Brahmos. Have you by chance seen him?”

The man cocked his head to the side in thought. “Not that I can recall, but I believe our leader has. Here, let me bring you to him,” he said before he turned around and led the way through the camp to where an important looking paladin with blond hair sat in front of a desk. The man was hovering over stacks of paper, seeming to be trying to puzzle something out.

At their approach, he looked up at them.

“Sir Hardwin, these two are looking for a lizard named Brahmos. I thought you might have an idea as to his whereabouts,” Paladin Cork said.

“Ah, the dreamer. Yes, he was here. He left a short while ago to head towards the graveyard. Right over here,” he said, handing the two of them a map and circling the area.

“Then that will be our next destination,” Red Prince said.

“Hold a moment, since you will be heading out, if you have the time could you find out what’s going on in the Black Pits. I don’t have the manpower here to send Paladins to look, but if you two could take a look and report back, I will reward you for your effort,” he said.

By now, Red Prince seemed to be getting a bit antsy, he was already starting to leave. “Yeah, I’ll do it. Even if he doesn’t join me, it’s the least I can do for helping us,” she said with a dip of her head.

“Thank you,” Paladin Hardwin said with a smile.

She gave him another nod before she followed Red Prince who was already on his way out of the camp.

The two of them hadn’t gotten far before an arrow suddenly whizzed passed her, missing her by inches. She whirled and looked for the source, immediately casting Mosquito swarm in the direction of the attack. There was a yelp of pain before a lizard appeared, having been cloaked before. While that was happening, she heard a grunt from ahead where Red Prince was to see him striking at another Lizard.

Before she could cast another spell though, she felt the sting of a blade pierce her side where her armor wasn’t as protective. She let out a hiss and whirled, spinning her the blade she’d purchased recently at her attacker who jumped out of the way of her attack. She narrowed her eyes and quickly cast Hail Strike upon her attacker who was then pelted by ice ice shards that killed him as one struck through his skull. She felt a slight burst of triumph before she focused in on the one she’d attacked earlier who had recovered from her earlier attack and sent another arrow toward her.

She wouldn’t be fast enough to dodge as she saw it hurtling towards her, not with the wound which was sending jolts of pain through her side. She closed her eyes and tried to bring up her shield to defend herself, but there came instead a “Ching” and no impact hitting her shield.

Opening her eyes, she spotted Red Prince in front of her for a moment before he cast impalement and spikes of rock shot up from the ground, piercing the lizard. She watched him with wide eyes before a jolt of pain had her clutching at her wound. She forced herself to stay standing, despite her legs and the pain threatening to make her collapse.

Spotting some more movement she quickly cast Ice Fan, shooting blasts of ice from her free hand towards the lizard. There was a screech before the lizard went down.

Pulling her hand away from the wound so she could look, she noticed not just the regular tinge of her blood, but also a drop of poison mixed with it. She swore softly.

“Who were these people?” she asked, trying to conceal the pain.

“If I had a guess, the House of Shadows.”

“Wonderful. This day just keeps getting better,” she said before the poison finally made her succumb and she fell to one knee, dropping her sword.

“Natharil, you’re wounded!” he said.

“Thank you for stating the obvious,” she said. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, trying to heal the wound. It didn’t work. “ Akorl thak illeem !” she swore loudly. “This wound won’t close with magic. I assume that the poison on the blade they used is counteracting healing spells.”

“Here, let me see,” he said, sheathing his weapons and crouching down.

She gave him a look and a frown before relenting and moving her hand away from her wound.

Gently, his fingers brushed against her scales as he moved her robes out of the way. She sucked in a breath at his touch. It had been so long since she’d felt the touch of another -- especially a male lizard -- that she felt something inside her flutter. She refused to squirm. She wouldn’t show what effect his touch was having on her, and she certainly didn’t have the energy too as she felt the poison working its way through her system.

“The wound isn’t too deep. Luckily you both have light armor and scales to protect you. But the poison is the worst thing,” he said before he moved away, looking around in the grass.

She didn’t bother asking him what he was looking for, she had a feeling she already knew. “The blade is over there,” she said, pointing to the offending metal gleaming in the grass.

He nodded in acknowledgment before he picked up the blade and observed it. He looked carefully at the poison before walking back over. “What medical remedies do you have in your pack?” he asked, knowing well that she stored many herbs and other medical supplies with her.

Without a word, she carefully shrugged off her pack, handing it to him before taking several deep breaths while he looked through her pack. “Do you know what you’re looking for?” she asked.

“Certainly, I’ve seen this poison before after some of the many assassination attempts on my life,” he said. His tail flicked happily behind him as he found what he needed and began working on creating a tonic.

She watched him carefully, having never learned of this before. “Where did you learn to make the tonic,” she asked as he finished and began to apply it to her wound. She winced lightly and he gave her a slight look before returning to his work.

“After the 7th time that they used this, I asked some of the kitchen staff if they could teach me how to stop the poison to help myself in case of another attack. While I haven’t taken the blow this time around, it seems that knowledge has come in handy. You’re welcome,” he said.

“Why?”

“Why what?” he asked, giving her a curious look.

“Why are you helping me? I certainly haven’t done much to earn your favor -- neither am I trying to. You owe me nothing,” she said.

He was silent for a moment while he seemed to be thinking of a response. “Because you saved my life on more than one occasion. And...I have a feeling about you. Besides, you still haven’t told me about the dreams that woke you up.”

“I…” she fell silent before glancing away. “I don’t really know how to describe them. Only that they have me concerned.”

He sat back from applying the tonic and looked her deep in the eyes, fixing his golden gaze on her. His stare was sharp, and it struck her once again how intelligent he was, how his eyes seemed to pick her apart, even when she was good at hiding her true feelings. “I’m listening,” he said.

She sighed. There was no escaping that gaze. And part of her didn’t want to. “Fine. Well, before I was captured, I was betrothed.”

“Betrothed? That would mean you were high in society. A noble.”

“It’s...complicated. Anyway, when I was taken by the magisters and sent to Fort Joy, I was forced away from him. We had been travelling back to the Empire after a successful battle with some humans. My dreams as of late, have shown him walking away from me. Leaving me alone. I’m left with emptiness and darkness. At least until…” she hesitated, not sure if she should say the last bit while she was staring into the golden eyes of the male before her.

He crossed his arms, looking at her intensely. He wouldn’t back down.

She sighed and shifted, feeling the pain in her wound had gone. “Until I see a pair of golden eyes. Eyes that burn like fire but do not hurt. Eyes that are so intense, I feel like I’m being analyzed. Eyes I suppose, that are like yours,” she paused, realizing what she’d just said. She broke her gaze with him. “And then I wake up.”

He was silent for a moment. “I see. Since when have you been having these dreams?”

“Since Amadia’s Sanctuary. But they’ve been coming more frequently as of late, and Anolis has been appearing less and less. Every time I think I’m about to figure out who the owner of the golden eyes are, I wake up.”

He nodded silently and then began to put her things back into her pack. “One thing before we set off,” he said as he handed her her pack which she took. Then he held out a hand for her to stand.

She hesitated before she took it and stood up. She moved to pull away, but before she could, his grip tightened and he leaned down, using his free hand to brush away her clothing. “Forgive me, this is going to hurt,” he said before he leaned down and she felt sudden searing pain on her side. She screeched and moved to push him away, but he was already stepping away.

“What the hell was that!”

“I cauterised your wound. You’re welcome, again,” he said before he turned and started off again.

She blinked and then peered down at the wound, noticing the now burn mark on the wound. She would have to fix that later. For now though, she grabbed her blade and sheathed it before catching up with him. She was silent for a moment before she spoke. “Thank you.”

His only response was to catch her gaze and give her a nod.

Then the two of them continued on their way in silence to the graveyard that Sir Hardwin said Brahmos had gone.

Crumbling Identity - Ambush by me (this is my sketch of the fight scene from earlier this chapter)

Chapter Text

It was getting dark by the time the two of them approached the graveyard, and Natharil couldn’t help but notice that there were storm clouds which rained down around them, causing the graveyard to look even more eerie than it probably usually did. As the two of them entered the steel gates, she couldn’t help but glance around and notice some silent workers either digging or standing around, silently watching them.

The workers said nothing to them, but they seemed...hollow. She didn’t like it, and with a glance at Red Prince, she noticed he was also giving them an odd glance as if he suspected something.

It wasn’t long before they came upon a female lizard who seemed to be tending to the workers, singing with a sad look in her eyes. The female spotted them and walked over. “Greetings, kin,” she said with a slight bow to her head.

Natharil gave her a nod in return. “What is wrong with these people?” she asked.

The lizard gave her a look before glancing toward the mansion in the center. “The lord of the manner did this to them. They are not free. Please,” she said, suddenly, grasping Natharil’s hands in her own, “please set them free.”

Natharil was caught off guard but after a moment she nodded. “I will do my best,” she said.

The lizard nodded and smiled slightly. “Thank you.”

Red Prince then spoke up. “If you would be so kind, we’re looking for a dreamer named Brahmos. Have you perhaps seen him?”

She tipped her head to the side for a moment. “I believe I saw some over by the Lizard graves. South that way,” she said, pointing behind her. “It’s not far, you’ll be able to see it by the flames.”

Red Prince nodded and headed off toward where she indicated without saying anything.

Natharil rolled her eyes. “Thank you, we’ll do what we can for these people after we’ve spoken to Brahmos,” she said.

The lizard nodded and then stepped away, going back to her singing. Natharil cast one last glance at her before following Red Prince.

As they approached where the lizard grave was, they noticed a string of fresh lizard corpses leading off to one side of it. With a frown, the two of them followed the trail.

When they reached the episenter, Natharil noticed a familiar looking female lizard kneeling on the ground, her head bowed and her hands resting in her lap. The lizard looked up at their approach, and she turned her body towards them as she stood. Her black scales gleamed in the fire light and her piercing emeral-green eyes focused on the two of them.

“Zetheryn?” Natharil questioned at the same time the Red Prince said “Kamitha?”

Natharil cast him a curious gaze which he echoed while the lizard in question chuckled.

“It took you two long enough to come here. I suspect you both have questions, which I will be more than happy to answer once the prince has spoken to Brahmos,” she said her voice thick with an accent, as she lifted her hands and cast the very same spell that they had just learned from Zorl-Stissa.

Red Prince and Natharil shared another look before he went to the spectral dreamer. The two of them conversed for a moment before they went to sleep.

As they did so, Natharil rushed over and hugged Zetheryn. “It’s good to see you. How have you been? Is Anolis alive? After I was taken I…” she trailed off, not wanting to finish the sentence as she felt her throat clog up.

Zetheryn gave her a knowing look of pity. “I am doing fine. As for Anolis...I believe you already know the answer to your question,” she said.

Natharil was silent for a moment before she closed her eyes and bowed her head, her hands dropping to her sides. So he was dead. Now she had nothing and no one to look forward to. The future she’d wanted had been destroyed all because of her being born the way she was. “How?” she asked quietly, partly afraid to hear the answer.

“Once father found out about his betrothal to you, and his desire to try saving you from the magisters, he was executed.”

Natharil felt like the ground had disappeared from beneath her and she tried not to sink to her knees. A bitter smile on her lips. “Anolis, you fool...I warned him that no one would understand,” she said softly.

Zetheryn gave her a soft look and lightly reached out, touching her shoulder in comfort, helping ground the grieving lizard.

It was then that the Prince came back from his dream-speak with Brahmos. He seemed in awe of what he’d learned and giddy to speak.

Natharil steeled her nerves and looked at him. “You seem excited,” she pointed out, even though her heart just wasn’t in it.

“Of course I am, I just found out that the woman of my dreams is real. Since I was a child, I’ve been dreaming of the Red Princess. My Red Princess. I’ve always known I had a destiny, but never in a million years would I guess this,” he said wistfully.

She rolled her eyes slightly. “What is it?”

“Apparently, she and I are supposed to bring about an age of dragons. I am to be the father and she the mother,” he said happily.

“Dragons…” she said softly and she glanced at Zetheryn who was watching the Prince like a hawk. “And this Red Princess, what is her name?” she asked, partly out of curiosity, partly to humor him.

“Her name is Sahda.”

Natharil felt a cold stone of dread nestle into her belly and she stepped back and looked away. “Sahda,” she said softly under her breath, feeling old emotions of hate and jealousy rise within her.

Red Prince apparently didn’t hear her as she spoke the name that held so many bad memories for her. Memories of being forced to be something she was not, of being hit and whipped when she refused to do as she was told. She wrapped her arms around herself and took several deep breaths. “There’s no point waiting around here. I want to have a chat with the owner of the manner and then we can discuss this elsewhere,” she said.

He gave her a strange look, before glancing at Zetheryn who seemed to nod at Natharil. “Speaking out of this dark place is preferable,” he said.

Natharil ignored him, having already set off as she tried to bury the memories that brought her so much pain. It didn’t take long to reach the mansion where the strange door allowed them to enter. She then walked into the room where the elf sat and he told her he wanted her help retrieving a tablet that was in the black pits. In exchange, he would teach them how to use source.

She sighed but agreed, casting glances at the silent workers as they went. Part of her felt sorry for them, but she said nothing as they left.

Once they exited the graveyard, she couldn’t help but sigh in relief. “That place gives me a very ill feeling. Let’s get away from it as far as we can before camping,” she said, taking the lead again.

When she felt they were far enough away and at a good camping spot, she settled down in the grass and began pulling out supplies for the night. She felt burdened by the emotions from what she’d learned today. That Anolis was indeed dead -- killed because he had loved her. And that the Red Prince was supposed to birth dragons with Sahda. She only paid half attention to the conversation going on while she prepped a fire.

“So...Kamitha, now that we are away from that place, why are you so far from the Empire? And what’s with this ‘Zetheryn’ that Natharil keeps referring to you as?”

Zetheryn chuckled. “Officially, my name is Zetheryn, of the House of War. Unofficially, I gave myself the name Kamitha so as to keep my identity hidden. As both of you know, I am not what I seem,” she paused, looking at the two of them. “Born to the House of War, but given the gifts of prophecy and battle prowess.”

“Are you saying you are a Dreamer?” Red Prince asked in slight awe.

“Yes and no. Much like the two of you, I am a sourcerer and Godwoken. My unique ability of source allows me to see the possibilities in my future clearly. In order to see others, I must dream with them.”

“A Godwoken?” Natharil asked, glancing up from the fire she’d managed to create.

The black lizard nodded. “Only recently. Amadia came to me and chose me as her champion, as her previous one died. I have no intention of becoming the Divine, despite her wishes for me as I already know my destiny and the path I must take.”

“So you are here because of being Godwoken?” Red Prince asked.

“That is part of it. Another part of it is because of my father executing my brother.”

Natharil stilled and cast her gaze to the flames, watching the orange tongues lick at the wood.

“Why was he executed? He must have done something to deserve it.”

She narrowed her eyes. “My brother was killed because he wanted his father to help him free his betrothed from the magisters. He wanted to prevent her from being ‘cured’ just for being born able to use source.”

“So a sourcerer then. I assume she was sent to Fort Joy. Perhaps she is dead already or…” he paused and glanced over at Natharil who was staring at the flames as if she wanted them to swallow her up. Her tail swaying behind her. “I see. Well, I’m sorry, Natharil. It’s a pity that he died trying to save you when you were able to save yourself.”

She closed her eyes for a moment before opening them and fixing her gaze on his. “Do not apologize to me. He didn’t just die because of me being a sourcerer. He died because no one understands. I am not who I appear to be, despite what you may think.”

His gaze was intense as his curiosity was piqued. “Pray tell, what do you believe I think about you?”

She sighed and looked down. She didn’t want to have this conversation.

He wouldn’t give up. He leaned in and reached out, his hand brushing hers. She felt her throat hitch as his fingers wrapped around her hand. “Tell me.”

The warmth of his hand in hers broke down her resolve. It had been so long since she’d had any sort of touch like this. She missed it. Not looking up, she spoke. “You believe I am just a soldier. Probably just someone of low ranking in the hierarchy of the Empire. You’d be wrong,” she said. “You see…” she paused, shifting just a tad, “I was born a noble. But my parents practically disowned me. All because I wasn’t born the way they wanted. They forced me to be raised by servants and told me never to use my true name. When I tried to, they would...punish me.”

She looked up to meet his gaze to see him looking at her with shock. “Why would someone do that to their child?”

“Because I was born a sourcerer. And because I wasn’t born with red scales,” she said, her eyes narrowing. She felt a deep seated anger swirl through her as too many memories of pain and torment rose again to the front of her mind.

It took him a moment before it dawned on him. “Red scales? Does that mean--What’s your real name?” he asked.

Natharil paused and glanced towards Zetheryn who had been silent this entire time. The black lizard fixed her with a look and nodded. With that encouragement, she looked at the Red Prince again. “Histhara,” she said.

He frowned and let go of her hand for a moment, closing his eyes as he tried to puzzle over the name. Then his eyes opened as a look of confusion and disbelief passed over his face. “I heard rumors of a Histhara. I heard she was dead,” he said.

She shook her head. “In a way, she is dead. She died many years ago the moment her sister was born and declared to be the Red Princess. If I had been born with red scales or she had been born without them, my life might’ve been much different,” she said.

His gaze stilled and he focused on her. “You...you are Sahda’s sister?”

She nodded. “Her older one. I have not told her and I don’t know if I want to.”

“Why not?”

She shook her head. “She’s grown up her entire life not even knowing she had a sister. Even if I resent her for getting everything and for being treated like she was the entire world, her knowing who I am wouldn’t help her and it wouldn’t change anything.”

“How would you know that? She could very well embrace you like a sibling.”

She laughed wryly. “No, she wouldn’t. She’s been raised as a princess, treated by our parents like an only child. She thinks I am just some servant girl who was raised in the same place as her. Almost like her personal maid -- which I suppose is what I became until I became a soldier.”

He eyed her as if trying to see if she was telling the truth. “If you were raised as a servant, then how do you know you’re not? And furthermore, how am I to trust what you say?”

She gave him a look. “I remember a very short time when I was the only child, treated like my station. And even if I didn’t, the servants all treated me with respect. If you truly want to tell we are related, go ahead and take some of my blood. Have it tested. Blood does not lie,” she said. “Besides, in all the time you’ve known me, have I ever lied to you? Look into my eyes and tell me that the pain I’ve witnessed for being forced to be a servant is a lie.”

He focused her gaze on her eyes and she once again was struck by how intelligent and sharp they were. His golden eyes narrowed for a moment before he sat back.

“Your eyes tell the truth, unless you are a very good liar. Very well,” he said, leaning back and crossing his arms, still watching her. “Even if she doesn’t believe that you are blood related, you should tell her. She deserves to know.”

Natharil fixed her moonstone eyes on him, silent in thought. Then she sighed and glanced away. “I know she should know, but I doubt it would make a difference.”

“I believe it would. Even if she won’t accept it, I do. And as she is my betrothed, I won’t let her treat you as a servant,” he said.

Natharil’s tail swished at his words as mixed feelings stirred within her. Part of her was glad that he trusted her and that he would stand up for her, but another part of her felt a stab in the gut at the word betrothed . She understood why she felt that way, and she didn’t like it. She’d been coming to realize through their traveling that she had a growing attraction to him, and knowing that he was betrothed to her sister made things a lot harder for her.

She glanced at Zetheryn who had been silent pretty much the entire time, listening to them speak. She felt another pang inside as she remembered Anolis, her now deceased betrothed. Perhaps if she hadn’t been captured by the Magisters then he wouldn’t have died. Then again, she would continue her mundane existence with only two people who didn’t raise her knowing her secret. She might not have even been chosen as Godwoken -- not that she was eager to be one in the first place, but still.

She glanced again at Red Prince who was watching her, seeming curious. “Penny for your thoughts?” he asked.

She sighed. “Just thinking about how different my life would be if I hadn’t been caught by the magisters. It’s both a blessing and a curse. If I hadn’t been caught, I probably never would have met you, and I might never have been chosen by Zorl-Stissa as Godwoken. Mind you, I have no desire to be the Divine. That power, like all power, comes at a great cost.”

He gave her a curious glance. “You don’t want to be Divine?” he asked.

She shook her head. “No, I don’t. No one should have that power. Power corrupts. Power is dangerous. I don’t like thinking about all the lives that rest on the Divine’s shoulder. It’s...too many to count. And the Divine is the only thing standing between us and the Void. Whoever becomes Divine is going to have to make sacrifices bigger than anyone else,” she said.

“Interesting. I suppose I never really thought of that before. It’s not that different from ruling an Empire,” he said, a slight gleam in his eye.

She looked at him warily. “I know you are capable, but I don’t think you should be Divine either. You have the lives of every citizen of the Empire on your shoulders already. Not to mention you will be the ‘Father of Dragons’.”

His gaze smoldered into her before he turned to Zetheryn. “And what of you? What do you think about being the Divine, Kami-Zetheryn?”

She smiled lightly. “Being Divine is not in the cards for me. As much as Amadia wishes it to be so, she is just grasping at straws. I know my destiny, and it is to serve whoever becomes Divine as an advisor.”

“I see. So do you know who the Divine will be? You are a Dreamer, are you not?”

She tilted her head. “I have an idea for who the next Divine could be, but it is not in my place to say. When the time comes, I will be supporting the one I deem most worthy to become Divine, even if it is not you two,” she said.

Natharil nodded. “Let’s just hope whoever becomes Divine is not as corrupt as Alexander. I don’t care if he was trying to save Rivellon from the void, purging source from sourcerers is despicable.”

“While there are probably some who deserve that fate, I would have to agree that it is quite barbaric,” Red Prince said.

The two females shared a look and smiled. Natharil then glanced toward the night sky. “It is getting late, I think I will head in for the night. We have a long day ahead of us,” she said.

“Indeed. Let us hope that Ifan and Sebille have had the same good luck we have.”

“There are a few things we need to do before we can join up with them, but we can discuss it in the morning,” she said before she found a comfortable spot and curled up, falling asleep.

Zetheryn the Huntress, by Frostbite711

Chapter Text

The slight throbbing of her side drove her from her sleep with a groan. Despite the pain, her vision was foggy as she sat up and tried to wipe away the recesses of her sleep, only to grimace as a slight stab of pain shot through her. She recognized the pain was coming from the cauterized wound and she moved around, shifting the fabric of her robes so she could peer at the wound.

It wasn’t infected, which was good, but the wound would take some time to heal without using any spells. She refused to use spells. Grunting softly to herself, she reached over to where her pack was and began looking for something to soothe the ache.

She searched through her bag thoroughly, taking every single herb and random bit and bob she’d collected to either sell or use, but came up empty. She sighed to herself, her tail curling around her legs as she began the painstaking process of putting everything back where it came from.

Her head shot up as she heard rustling behind her and she turned to notice the Red Prince sitting up. He looked annoyed for some reason.

What’s gotten his scales in a bunch now? She wondered, rolling her eyes at his expression. Then he stood up and stretched and she couldn’t help but admire how his muscles shifted and his scales gleamed as the sunlight caught on them. Quickly, she turned her gaze back to her bag and checking her robes were fitted correctly, started to get to her feet.

The ache in her side twinged and she hissed softly, her tail swaying, but she pressed on, grabbing her pack and swinging it over her shoulder on her uninjured side. She then grimaced as she tried to grab the other strap, but her side protested, shooting pain like hot coals through her side.

“Josarni!” she cursed as the strap slipped out of her limited grasp.

Before she could attempt to reach behind for the strap again, she suddenly felt warm hands touch her shoulders lightly before brushing against her back to grab the strap and bring it closer to her and at a better angle. She stiffened at the touch, her mind falling blank for a moment. “You look like you need help,” said the familiar voice of the Red Prince.

“Uh...yeah...thanks,” she mumbled out, looking at her feet and she allowed him to help her.

She felt herself grow warm -- not just from him being so close, which sent monkeys jumping in her stomach, but from embarrassment that he had to help her. She’d grown so accustomed over the years to having to take care of herself, it was odd...when someone else helped. Even Anolis didn’t help her. He’d always looked up to her and held her in high esteem, not just from her blood, but also because her rank in the militia was higher than his.

At the thought of her now-dead betrothed, her tail drooped slightly and she closed her eyes, wrapping her arms around herself.

He was silent for a moment, his presence solid against her back before he spoke. “Why don’t you try using a healing spell on that wound of yours?” he asked.

She was still as she felt his breath lightly on her shoulder and she slowly turned to face him, realizing just how close he was, his head having to tilt up so he could meet her gaze. “I don’t know if whatever is in the blade that gave this wound is still active. I’d rather not risk wasting the energy to heal a wound like this unless I absolutely have to…” she trailed off, feeling a sort of magical pull towards him. Something intense and all consuming. She could tell he felt it as well as he leaned towards her, his eyes meeting hers intensely.

She wanted to reach out and touch him, to feel his scales against hers. As she reached out to do so, she felt a slight prick in her side and she grimaced. Realizing suddenly how close they were and how inappropriately wrong this was, she stepped back from him, looking down and away. She turned from him and grabbed her shield and sword, carefully attaching them on while trying not to hurt herself. “You should probably get your weapons and armor, Prince. We still need to meet up with the others and plan our next move.”

She felt his burning gaze on her back and the air of disappointment hung between them. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She had to remember, he was betrothed to her sister. It didn’t matter if she suddenly found she liked him, she couldn’t have him.

Just another thing my sister can have that I can’t, she thought bitterly.

She shook that thought away, trying to keep it from clouding her thoughts, but it still lingered, like an unwelcome visitor waiting in the corners of her mind. She turned and glanced around, remembering her friend that they’d picked up, only to find her not where she’d been last night. A spike of fear shot through her, and she spun around, looking for the black scaled lizard.

She relaxed upon seeing the shimmer of scales and a tail shifting to and fro as it hung from a tree. Craning her head up, she spotted Zetheryn watching their little camp and beyond, her expression unreadable.

Then the other female climbed down the tree and looked at the two of them as she easily picked up her bag and threw it over her shoulder. “Are you two ready then?”

Natharil nodded while the Red Prince let out a grunt as he strapped his shield and sword on.

Zetheryn grinned at the two of them and then looked to Natharil. “You said we had some things to do before we met up with the rest of your group?”

“Ah...yeah...Paladin Hardwin wanted us to check out the Black Pits, but Sebille and Ifan might be waiting for us or in trouble.”

Red Prince frowned and glanced towards Zetheryn before meeting Natharil’s gaze. “Ah yes, the two of lesser races. Sebille and Ifan can take care of themselves fairly well I’m sure. But these Blackpits seem dangerous, who knows what is going on down there,” he said.

Natharil narrowed her eyes. “We’ll go help our companions. Who knows what they’ve gotten into while we were here...plus, if I’m going into an unknown place, I’d rather have all of us if we can.”

“I see your point. Let’s get going then, shall we?” he said before he turned and began to lead them through the woods back towards the Paladin Camp. As soon as they reached the other side, he looked a bit lost as soon as he started heading North.

Natharil sighed softly and took the lead, pulling out her map and looking at where Ifan had told them they would be going. Natharil was silent for the walk while Red Prince dropped back to speak with Zetheryn, catching up on a lot of things as well as asking her questions about her experiences with Amadia.

It was approaching the evening by the time they reached where Ifan and Sebille had headed. They three of them had run into some void-possessed scarecrow which had attacked them after they failed to get them to cooperate into “going to sleep”. All three of them had come away a little injured but still able to fight.

Now the three of them stood before a maze of some sort which the two of them stood in the middle of, frowning across at a bridge. Upon the sound of their footsteps, Ifan and Sebille immediately had their weapons drawn and were spinning towards the lizards before stopping, realizing who they were. Sebille’s eyes narrowed as she spotted Zetheryn behind them.

“Oh look, another one…Does she intend to insult us too?” she said, giving Red Prince a pointed look.

The red lizard just shrugged and glanced away, looking toward the bridge.

Zetheryn looked between them all and dipped her head. “I mean no harm to any of you unless I absolutely have to. I am here to help and to advise.”

Sebille cast her a withering glance. “I don’t trust you,” she said.

Zetheryn shrugged. “I’m not asking you too. But I’m traveling with Natharil and the Red Prince, so you will just have to deal with me,” she responded.

Sebille said nothing but then turned to look back toward the bridge.

“So...why are you two standing out here?”

“Roost is in there...but he has a whole lot of Lone Wolves with him. Sebille and I are good, but not that good. We would never be able to fight our way past them if we end up killing Roost,” Ifan explained.

“Oh, I plan to get what I want out of him, even if I have to kill him,” Sebille remarked, casting Ifan a look.

The man frowned but then glanced towards the three lizards.

“You just waited for us then?”

“Yes. I didn’t want to risk them running or hiding anything which they might’ve done if we’d left to go find you two -- er, three now I suppose.”

“Naturally having us along would make this so much easier,” Red Prince cut in.

Natharil sighed and glanced at him before fixing her gaze back on Ifan. “What’s the plan?”

“Well, us Lone Wolves have a contract to bring in Sourcerers. So, my idea was that the rest of you follow us. I’m not planning to turn you in, but we need to get what information we can from him.”

Natharil nodded. “Sounds like a plan. Let’s just hope it doesn’t blow up in our faces,” she said.

“When do our plans not backfire?” Red Prince asked.

“Rescuing the meister and escaping Fort Joy seemed to have worked,” Sebille countered.

“Alright, we get it, let’s go and get this over with,” Natharil said. She glanced back at Zetheryn. “Oh...Ifan, your plan was made back when we didn’t have Zeth...what would you like her to do?”

The man paused and looked back at the black lizard who watched him calmly. “She should stay here as backup, only come in if we end up needing the help,” he said.

Zetheryn looked at him and dipped her head in acknowledgment. “I’ll keep a look out then,” she said.

The group all gave nods of acknowledgement and Ifan took the lead into the Lone Wolf’s encampment.

Chapter Text

The fight had been bloody and brutal. They’d made it out by the skin of their teeth, and better yet, they’d saved one of the Source Masters. An elf. The very same elf that had been in Fort Joy with them. Saheila, if Natharil remembered correctly.

Roost was dead, as were the rest of the Lone Wolves stationed in the camp. And they’d discovered there was a group called The Black Ring who had hired them to try to kill any Godwoken they found.

After this discovery, Ifan pursed his lips and was silent on the way back to the elven camp.

The elves thanked the group in their own way before revealing that Sebille has the destiny to be the heart of scions. Natharil didn’t know much about the elves, but she could tell it was something that meant a great deal to their kind...like being the emperor.

She glanced towards the Red Prince as the news was given. He didn’t seem to care in the slightest about this.

The group then agreed to stay with the elves that night. Despite what many of the other races thought about elves, they were actually a kind race and they both mourned their dead while celebrating the return of their scion: Sahelia.

Natharil watched the celebrations for a short while before wandering over to where they’d buried their fallen conrad. She hadn’t been there when it had happened, but Sebille and Ifan told her they had done some sort of ritual.

She raised a hand and focusing on the source at her center, she cast her “ghost sight” spell Zorl-Stissa had given her. Below and above her appeared a glimmering blue tree. As she stared at it, she felt not just sadness at the passing, but also joy from the tree.

She heard a voice come from the soul and she closed her eyes, listening to his words. He was happy to become a tree. Sad to change his mortal life for the immortal one, but overall happy.

She crossed her arms and her tail swayed slightly while she listened to him. She wondered what it felt like to know what your future was.

“Not one much for celebrating, I take it,” said the familiar voice of the Red Prince.

She turned her head and glanced at him, giving him a slight nod of greeting. “I celebrate when I’m in the mood. But not tonight.”

He tipped his head at her as he came to stand besides her. “Why not?”

She frowned at him but he didn’t seem to be judging her, merely curious. “I guess I just have a lot on my mind. I only just found out that my first love was executed and I realize that the only plan I had for my future has died with him.”

“Mmmm. Not very ambitious are you,” he remarked.

She shrugged. “I did say I don’t want to be divine. I don’t care if the lady I worship says I have to. I’m not after any prestige or power.”

“Then why not just leave? Why stay and continue on this journey to become divine?”

“Why stay?” she paused and tilted her head to think. Why should I stay? What reason do I have to do so? “I...I suppose I want to help. I want to help people less fortunate than I. I want justice for all the wrong doings. It’s true I don’t want power, but I do recognize that those with power have the ability to change things either for better or worse.”

She turned to look at him, one side of her glowing with the light of the ghostly tree while the other burning an almost red color from the fire light. “Not only that, but I’ve found myself growing attached to you all. I’ve never really had many friends, but I would consider you all very close to me. I wouldn’t want to see any of you hurt.” Some more so than others , she thought to herself as she met the golden gaze of the Red Prince, once more being drawn into his piercing and intelligent eyes.

He looked at her thoughtfully, silent while he seemed to think over his words. “How very noble of you,” he finally said.

“I don’t know if it’s noble, but it’s what I believe is right.”

“I think you are more than deserving of your rightful title, and name. Histhara, your family doesn’t deserve you.” He stepped closer to her so they were only a foot apart.

She froze as he spoke her true name. Her heart skipped a beat and she stared at him. “Say it again,” she said.

“Pray, tell, what do you want me to say?”

“Say my name.”

A small smile spread on his face and he leaned down and she felt the ruggedness of his scales along her own as he whispered in her ear and wrapped one arm around her waist. “Histhara.”

She closed her eyes as he spoke her name. It sounded so beautiful coming from him, it made her feel things she’d never felt before. “Red Prince,” she said softly.

“You can call me Kalvoron,” he said just as softly.

She opened her eyes and looked at him as he had pulled back close enough that their breath still mingled, but far enough that they had some space between them. “Kalvoron?”

“It is one of the many names I have been given. And only a chosen few are allowed to know it.”

She blinked and smiled. If her scales weren’t such a dark pink, she probably would have been blushing. “Kalvoron. I like it. It suits you,” she said, tipping her head slightly.

“As Histhara does you,” he responded, moving one of his hands to lightly cup her jaw, despite her being just slightly taller than him.

Everywhere he touched she felt the heat of him. And for the first time in what felt like a long time, she wanted something. She wanted him. And as she heard him speak her name, she knew that the phantom eyes she’d been seeing in her dreams had been him. Closing her eyes, she leaned down and lightly nuzzled him, tentatively at first.

It took him but a moment before he nuzzled back and then he pulled away before kissing her. She felt her heart stutter again and it took her a frazzled moment before she returned the kiss. She felt like she could suddenly do anything. That there was no limit, that she could perhaps love again.

Then she snapped back to reality as she remembered something vital. She pulled away from him and glanced away. “I’m sorry. We shouldn’t do this,” she said, her heart breaking even as she spoke.

“Histhara…”

“Don’t. Please. You’re betrothed to my sister. She’s the one who gets the happy endings. Not me,” she said. “I think it would be best if we pretend this never happened.” She turned and started to walk back towards the others.

“Histhara, Stop!” he said, his hand catching her arm.

“Why?” she said, stopping just slightly although she didn’t turn around as she felt silent tears begin to snake down her face.

“I didn’t want to say anything. But you said you’ve been having dreams of someone since Fort Joy. I have as well.”

She glanced at him.

“They start off with an image of Sahda before it changes and I find you kneeling on the ground. I don’t know what it means, but after just now I believe it means something about the two of us is tied together. Our fates are linked somehow.”

“Yeah, we’re both Godwoken. And you’re to marry my sister,” she said.

“I don’t think that’s it…”

“Please, Prince. Please just drop it. I can’t handle any more disappointment.”

He opened his mouth as if to say something but then his eyes seemed to catch onto the tears making their way down her face. He let go of her and lowered his head, dropping his arm.

“My apologies. It won’t happen again,” he said

She turned away from him, feeling her heart once again tear in two. She weaved her way through the others and found Zetheryn watching in the corner. Walking over, she sat down and leaned against the tree her friend was.

Zetheryn said nothing but reached out and grabbed her hand, giving it a light friendly squeeze as the two of them watched the celebrations. At one point, Natharil noticed the Red Prince approach the group for a few minutes, watching before he turned and headed into one of the tents.

Chapter Text

Natharil awoke early again -- as seemed to be the trend for her since escaping Fort Joy. The tent she was in was dark, but she spotted a slight sliver of light coming from the tent openings as she sat up and stretched. She looked around her tent, noting Zetheryn was still asleep.

Quietly so as not to disturb her friend, she crawled out of her tent and headed outside, careful to make sure very little light came through as she exited. The sky was mostly dark, but there was a hint of the rising sun peeking from between the trees. The fire from last night was nothing more than smoking coal, and some remnants of last night’s festivities lay strewn here and there.

A few of the elves were up, talking or picking through their supplies as Natharil looked around the camp. Her gaze then caught onto the gentle Saheila who was sitting next to the pit where the soul of the tree was. Glancing around at the other elves, Natharil approached the woman.

“It is a good morning, my friend. Or perhaps it is not so good. You seem troubled.”

The magenta scaled lizard blinked in surprise for a moment before she sighed and sat down next to Sahelia. “I shouldn’t be surprised that you’d notice. You are pretty perceptive.”

Saheila’s response was only a smile, it seemed she was waiting for Natharil to speak her mind.

Huffing softly, Natharil glanced behind her towards the tents, making sure no prying eyes were watching before she returned to facing the same direction as the elf besides her. “It’s complicated, if I’m honest. And I’m not even sure what to make of what’s going on around me and in my mind.”

Saheila nodded. “There are many uncertainties in your future. But I believe you will make the right decisions down the line. Just have faith in yourself and your friends.”

“So you mean to say I shouldn’t worry so much about the future?”

“The future will unfold itself. Focus on the here and now and what you can do.”

Natharil was silent for a moment as she considered the elf’s words. “Thanks Saheila,” she finally responded, glancing back as she spotted movement and noted Ifan exiting the tent he shared with Sebille.

“Anytime, my friend,” Saheila said as she continued to stare forward.

Natharil smiled and then stood, patting some dirt off of her clothing before she headed back to the main part of the camp. “Morning to you. Did you sleep well?” Natharil asked Ifan as she approached.

The man looked over at her and gave her a smile. “As well as I could. And you?”

Natharil shrugged and glanced away. “Could be worse. So, once the others are up, do we have a plan of action for what to do next?”

“Well, we still need to find more source masters. Meister Siva may have answers.”

“Oh! That reminds me, Red Prince and I met one of the masters when we went to the graveyard. He wanted us to find something for him in the black pit. The Paladins we encountered also needed help with searching the black pit to find out if something bad is happening there. But…”

“Spit it out, Natharil,” came the brash response of Sebille as she exited the tent behind Ifan.

“I don’t trust that master. Something about him felt...wrong. His workers were husks of what they used to be, their souls separated from their bodies and bound to the earth.”

“The fate of the world could be coming to an end and you’re worried about something as trivial as that? We don’t have the luxury to just pick and choose which master we go to for help,” Sebille responded. “I get that it rubs you the wrong way, and maybe in a different circumstance we wouldn’t have to go to him, but he’s the first master we’ve found.”

“I…” Natharil looked away. “If it were you who was trapped, a slave to another, wouldn’t you want freedom? Look, all I’m saying is I don’t trust him, and if possible I want a way to free them from his tyrannical grasp. No one should have to be a slave.”

“Well, unless we find other Masters, besides him and Saheila, we’ll have to make a deal with the devil,” Ifan said calmly.

“After we get what you guys need, we can always kill him,” Zetheryn chimed in as the black lizard slipped out of the tent she and Natharil shared, yawning in the morning light.

Sebille eyed the female with what could have been a new appreciation. “I like the way you think,” she said with a smirk.

“Always a pleasure,” Zetheryn replied with a mock bow, grinning as well.

“What are you chatterboxes prattling about so early in the morning?” grouched the Red Prince as he emerged from his tent.

“Our next move,” Ifan answered. “Natharil was telling us about a source Master you guys met and the Black Pit.”

“I see. Is that to be our next destination?” the lizard asked.

“No one else has any other leads at the moment, unless you have something to share.”

“No, I don’t,” Red Prince responded.

Natharil snuck a look at him, she had been with him at the graveyard. She knew he had to meet Sahda in the North, so why wasn’t he saying anything? She considered telling the others, but decided against it as it wasn’t her story to tell. But she wondered if he had something to gain by withholding that information. Especially considering how often he talked about himself and his destiny.

It was then that he turned his focus towards her. Quickly, she snorted softly and stood. “I’ll begin preparing for our departure. You guys can figure out who’s going to make breakfast,” she said before she turned and went inside her tent to collect her things.

Chapter Text

After the group had breakfast and had packed up their things for the next part of their journey, they all met with Sahelia where she waited calmly for them. As payment for saving her from Roost, she was going to show them how to master their source.

First the elven woman crouched low to the ground, then she had them breathe in and feel the source flowing through them as well as the roots of the trees. Feel the life and connection between them all.

As Natharil crouched to the ground and reached deep into herself for source as she spread it out through the ground, she felt it. A sort of tingling that spread from her to the living things around them. She felt her lungs take in a deep breath as she began to draw some of the source into her. Her eyes were closed as she pondered the connection and wonder of it all.

Eventually, she was drawn back into her body again and she blinked open her eyes, once more conscious of the world around her. Standing, she looked at her clawed hands, noting the faint glow of source slipping around her hands before it faded, her magenta scales as bright as they ever were. The lizard then moved her gaze to look at the others who all seemed slightly captivated for a moment before they too looked back at Saheila.

“Thank you for your help,” Natharil said as she placed her hands together and gave a slight bow.

“You saved me from Roost and brought me back to my people. This is the least I can do. Go in peace, my friends,” the elf replied with a bow.

“You as well,” Natharil responded with a wave as her companions set off, heading back south where Red Prince, Natharil, and Zetheryn had come from.

While on the road, Natharil pulled out her map to help them figure out where they were going. Luckily, Paladin Harwin had marked the location of the Black Pits on her map, so that would help them. As the sun started to make its descent in the sky, signaling that evening was coming, the group came upon a path that led up to a house which sat precariously close to the edge of a cliff.

“Hold up,” Ifan called out before Natharil could move any closer. The pink lizard paused and glanced back at the Lone Wolf as he gestured for them to crouch down in the flora. “We should proceed with caution. While we aren’t at Reaper’s Isle anymore, we are still being hunted. And not just by the Magisters.”

“The Voidwoken and the Black Ring, for example,” Sebille brought up.

“The House of Shadows is also quite formidable,” Red Prince interjected.

Natharil looked at her companions and nodded. “Alright, so what’s the plan?”

“We could send a scout ahead,” Sebille suggested, looking very much like she would volunteer if it came to that.

Ifan nodded slowly, considering. “That’s not a bad idea…” he mused.

“Then I’ll go ahead,” Sebille declared as she began to stand.

“Wait!” Zetheryn hissed, one arm grabbing lightly at Sebille’s clothes to stop the women while she gestured towards the house with her other. All four Godwoken turned their attention back towards the house to see a man in familiar looking armor exit. They couldn’t see his face from this distance, but Natharil recognized that armor as the ones Gareth wore.

Sharing a look with her companions, she spoke up. “It looks like Gareth…”

“But it could be an imposter. Whatever the case, we should be ready for anything,” Red Prince responded.

The group made sounds of agreement before they all stood up, hands on their weapons as they began to approach the man and the building behind him. Once the rag tag group of godwoken were close enough, the man noticed and he too reached for his weapon for a moment before he stopped.

“Godwoken?” he called out.

The group shared looks with each other. Natharil lashed her tail in both surprise and suspicion, her body tensing. They didn’t move any closer, but the man did.

As he began to close the distance, she realized it was Gareth and she relaxed. She didn’t wait for the others as she approached him. “Gareth, fancy seeing you all the way out here.”

The man gave her a nod and held out a hand for her to shake, his face grim. “This is my family home...unfortunately the Magisters have already been here.”

She shook his hand and tipped her head slightly. “What do you mean? What’s happened?”

His gaze darkened and he turned his head to where some Seekers were using shovels to cover what the lizard could easily guess was the deceased. By his expression, she also guessed that Gareth had been close to the very people being buried.

“Oh….I’m sorry.” Natharil sympathized.

“They will pay for what they’ve done...I’ll destroy them all.”

“Hold on now, you shouldn’t be so quick to vengeance,” Ifan spoke up, stepping next to the pink lizard.

“The Magisters won’t get away with this, but you can’t go around half-cocked. That will get you killed and put everyone else in danger,” Natharil reasoned.

The Seeker looked between Ifan and Natharil and the fire in his eyes dimmed. “You’re right. There’s too much at stake for me to try to take them on at this point in time. But they must be held responsible.”

“And they will, so long as Alexander doesn’t become Divine,” Red Prince chimed in from where he stood nearby. “Speaking of, we need to get moving. We need to continue on to the Blackpits.”

Gareth’s gaze snapped to the Prince. “The Blackpits? What about it?”

“There’s a source master who wants something from inside a cavern there. That and some Paladins asked us to scout out the place. They say something wrong is going on down there.”

Gareth nodded. “That place is a Magister stronghold...and a day's walk away. Why don’t you stay here for the night.”

The group exchanged glances as they considered his offer before Zetheryn spoke. “It would probably be better to scout a place like the Blackpits in the daytime. Especially since we have no idea what’s in store.”

Red Prince nodded. “I agree. If there are magisters, there are bound to be silent monks, and maybe even shriekers, if those abominations are beyond shores of the Reaper’s Isle.”

Natharil, Ifan and Sebille shared glances. Sebille seemed like she would argue, but the other two agreed with Zetheryn and the Prince.

Gareth gave a wry smile and a nod. “Alright then, you’re free to enter the house. I’ll be in there soon,” he said before he headed for the graves.

Without waiting for anyone, Red Prince headed for the building. The others followed closely behind, aside from Natharil.

Instead of following the red lizard, she headed for the graves. She was silent for a moment before she stepped towards Gareth and the people burying the dead. “May I?” she asked.

Gareth looked up at her in slight confusion but then waved his hand for her to go ahead.

With a nod, she pressed her hands together and lowered her head. She reached inside herself, internal fingers brushing against the source of her soul, feeling Zorl-Stissa shifting within. Calling upon her source, she felt as if a cooling water was spreading across her scales, seeping into any aches and pains she felt, even while she pressed it outwards toward the air around them.

She didn’t open her eyes, but she felt the presence of the restless dead. She heard their whispers and she knew that Gareth’s parents were begging him to live his life and not allow himself to succumb to grief. They wanted him to continue to better the world. They were proud of him.

“Love is an amazing and painful thing. It can spur us to create or strive to be better, but it can also be the cause of destruction. In death, our loved ones live on through us and through the people whose lives they touched. They will live on in the Hall of Echoes and find peace with the Gods,” she said before she opened her eyes.

Spotting the souls of Gareth’s parents, she sensed their gratitude for her words as well as the love for their son. The cleric smiled at them before looking towards Gareth who seemed to be eased by her words as he sat crouched.

“Thank you,” he said after a moment as he stood and faced her. “I needed to hear that.”

She gave him a nod. “Your parents are proud of you. Always strive to make the world better, listen to those around you and follow your heart so long as it does not lead you into darkness and the void.”

He nodded and gave her a pat on the shoulder. “Let’s head in then shall we?” he suggested before he turned and headed towards his house.

Natharil made to follow before she heard two distinct ghostly voices whisper “thank you”. As she turned towards the sound, she noticed Gareth’s parents disappear and she knew that they had gone to the Hall of Echoes, feeling as if their job was done. Again, the lizard smiled, only this time due to knowing she’d helped Gareth and his family.

Chapter Text

The next morning the five of them set out with Gareth telling them he’d explore a bit more before heading back to the Lady Vengeance. Natharil wished him well and he likewise as they parted ways.

Looking at the map, Red Prince took the lead as he began to lead them further south. The hadn’t actually gone far when they stumbled upon the body of a magister. Zetheryn and Natharil paused to examine it and the black lizard growled as she pulled some of the torn fabric from the fallen.

“What’s the matter?” Sebille asked.

Natharil’s lips pulled back from her teeth in disgust and even some fear as she noted the wound marks on the magister. “This man was killed by a voidwoken.”

The rest of the group paused and looked at each other. “That could mean a sourcerer was here,” Red Prince mused.

Natharil stood but didn’t respond to him as she thought about it. If that was so, then things were in bad shape here. But perhaps if there was a sourcerer, they could help them learn to channel source, then they wouldn’t have to work with Ryker.

“That is a possibility. Let’s keep our eyes sharp,” Ifan replied.

They all murmured agreement before collectively resting their hands on their weapons in case they happened upon a fight before continuing on.

It was that long before they heard the sounds of fighting and quickly realized that a group of Magisters were being attacked by Voidwoken.

Some of the group seemed to hesitate, mainly Red Prince and even Zetheryn as they watched the fight. Natharil glanced at them and narrowed her eyes. “If you guys want to move on, go ahead, but if we don’t stop these voidwoken, they could attack innocent people. I won’t let that happen,” she declared before she raced forward, unsheathing her sword and striking at the nearest beast, slicing off a leg.

Green bile spurted out and began sizzling on her sword, although she didn’t have time to examine what happened before the creature made a screech and it spun around, tring to bite at her. Luckily, she pushed her shield up in time to stop it from actually getting its maw on her, but now it scrambled along her shield, legs scuttling and wings beating as it tried to over power her. She felt her arm shaking and she began to buckle before suddenly the thing was on fire.

It shrieked again and backed up, before looking around for the source. Natharil didn’t waste the chance to reach heer hands out and cast infection. Green ooze leaked out of the beast as it shrieked once more and then collapsed, its green blood sizzling as it hit the ground. Natharil backed up to stay out of its way as she realized that it wasn’t blood spilling out, but acid.

“Watch out for their blood! It’s acid!” she called out. She glanced at her sword to see it sizzling, although mostly still intact. Sheathing her weapon, she kept her shield out as she switched to using long range attacks, taloned fingers flickering with frost or necromantic magic as she cast spells until all the voidwoken were dead.

Pausing to catch her breath, she glanced around the clearing, noting that the magisters were still alive, speaking with Ifan and Sebille. She then looked at the piles of dead voidwoken and slowly made her way forwards, avoiding the acidic blood as she did so.

As she approached, she caught some of the conversation. The Magister explained how a sourcerer was the cause of this destruction and chaos. They’d been hiding with a family nearby and had fled the scene, but not before bringing Voidwoken down upon them. The Magister then grumbled upon how the only good sourcerer is one either collared or dead and how they’re the cause for bringing the void down upon them.

They wisely said nothing to that as the Magister thanked them once more for their assistance and then walked off to do something or other. Once he was out of earshot, Ifan turned towards the others, a grim look on his face. “Source can be used for good or bad, depending upon who wields it,” he said.

Natharil nodded. “Just because the voidwoken are drawn to sourcerers doesn’t mean that killing or chaining us will be the solution.”

“Although I’d rather die then become one of their twisted abominations,” Sebille cut in.

They all grimaced in agreement, remembering some of the many monstrosities they’d stumbled upon which had once been sourcerers.

“Well then, we should probably work harder towards one of us becoming the Divine,” Red Prince remarked.

The group fell silent then, watching each other for a moment before Natharil straightened. “First thing’s first, we need to find out more about the Black pits, the sourcerer who caused this, and possibly helping Ryker...although I still would rather see if we can find someone else.”

They all nodded in agreement before Ifan began to lead the way further into the black pits, the others following close at his heels.