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Tora has brought a plague.
That is the most common whisper, but Dain hears others in the walls, the ones that arrive before the notices- they are whispers and drunken mumbles, but people believe those.
It sees the papers, and thins their lips. His form is no longer completely Toran looking, but it cannot stop the sting of offence that it feels at those words. The bitterness that rises as he continues to read it. That is all it is, offence. Not frustration at the suspicious looks, nor worry as Doom’s gaze becomes stone, as trust gives way to fear.
Dain grimaces. They have always been a good liar, but it knows that he cannot keep it up for long. Dain shuts themself in its room and begins working on marks. There is little effort in the task, as he had learned how to sew before meeting Doom- something that would make the story of the lost heir more believable.
Once they are alone, away from the whispers and glances, he lets the torrent of emotions bubble to the surface. How quickly people forget that disharmony will only lead the Shadow Lord to victory, how quickly Doom and the other resistance members forget that Lief had proven Dain’s loyalty with the Belt. How quickly they forget that they-
Dain blinks as it looks at the needle, now bent in their hand.
He sighs, placing the completed masks in a box to give to one of the guards. The woman looks at it as an enemy, and the masks as if they are the poison instead of the protection. Dain looks down. It knows, it knows that is to be expected, yet…
Dain can never go home again, because he has sided with Deltora.
They do not regret the choice, but that does not make the longing vanish.
He cannot blame the people for being suspicious of Tora. A part of him still holds contempt for them, for choosing and being forgiven for being human, even if he cannot blame them completely.
Dain does not need rest as much as humans, so they continue, mind wandering through the night. Whoever made those papers is not completely aware of Dain’s species, only its origin. Many know that they are not human, and few know Dain is an Ol, but all of them are within the resistance. With the whispers, soon, everyone will know, and that will be… unfortunate.
But whoever is spreading the rumours is aware that Dain has power that was obtained from the Shadow Lord, and not aware that Lief had tested him with the Belt. That means they are not of the resistance.
That means that, if the traitor is the one writing those notices, it is not a member of the resistance.
Something within Dain calms at that, and his shoulders drop ever so slightly.
It knows who he can trust, but only for now. None know what the future holds, and Dain…
Dain closes his eyes, keeps its head down, and continues to sew.
There is a knock, and Dain blinks, slowly.
“Dain? It is Lief. I have news, may I enter?” A voice calls from beyond the door, and Dain allows himself to blink once again before answering.
“You may,” He keeps any suspicions away from his voice, and narrows his eyes as Lief enters. Lief looks tired, but nowhere near as exhausted as everyone within Del. Dain themself only looks well because they lack anything that could make them ill.
“Doom warned you away, did he not?” Dain asks with a bitter smile, “It is unwise to board a sinking boat, Lief.”
“I must be here, as the last Sister lies within Del,” Dain’s eyes widen at the words, although- it does make sense. The illness could be caused by the Sister’s accused magic, now that the others have perished, “And I believe that there is no Plague at all.”
Dain follows Lief’s gaze to the small pile of masks, “What do you suspect?”
“Poison,” He replies simply, and Dain freezes. That was not the answer that it expected, but… it does make sense, “Tell me, did you eat or drink anything during the feast of my mother’s return?”
“I did not,” They answer before it can process the words, “I did not see the need to eat at the time- but if this is poison, then how did it spread so fast? The one who caused it-” For a moment, he falters, as it realises that this will only implicate it more- “The one who caused it would need to move around the palace undetected.”
“There is much to discuss- We are meeting in my mother’s bedchambers- and must hurry. Will you join us?” There is a panic in Lief’s eyes that Dain has not seen before, and they find himself nodding and following Lief before even thinking of it.
Dain allows itself to feel some rage. If it had known it was was poison, he would have been able to spend their time helping Doom. The man has not slept more than a handful hours in the last few days.
The chamber is silent and Lief finishes his explanation. The Sister is within the palace, the guardian, a shape changer, is within the palace.
Despite the Belt’s warmth in their chest, Dain feels cold.
He can feel the eyes of Gla-Thon, Steven, Zeean, Manus, Gers, Doom, Barda and Jasmine on it. A silent accusation. A fair accusation. Dain looks, almost desperately, to Lief.
With no hesitation, Lief unclasps the Belt from his waist, and holds it out. Dain places it’s hand on the belt, and like long before, Lief tightens the Belt around Dain’s arm, waiting.
The room itself seems to hold its breath.
Nothing happens.
“Now that we have proven that the guardian of the south is not Dain,” Lief begins, removing the Belt as Dain gives Lief a thankful smile, “I believe they are a human with powerful gifts of sorcery. The two-faced beast, the black slime sliding away into the palace- those are merely forms that the guardian finds… convenient.”
“Are you certain it is not an Ol?” Steven asks, eyes flickering, and Dain shakes their head.
“It is unlikely. Those forms are far too complicated, and higher level Ols have failed the Shadow Lord too many times,” Dain removes a folded yellow paper from his pocket, “And it would make sense, considering the accusations made against me.”
They hold it out for the others to see. A few of them look surprised, but many have seen it before. Written on it is:
#TRUTH! The Toran Dain has held a position of power in the resistance, even as the rest of Tora was banished and at the mercy of the Guardian.
#TRUTH! The Toran Dain made a deal with the Shadow Lord to escape the just fate of his kin. The toran Dain is a sorcerer who plots against the good of Deltora!
There is a heavy silence, so Dain takes the opportunity to speak. “If it were one who knew my species, they would have simply stated the truth to plant doubt,” Dain smiles ruefully, “It seems they assumed I am similar to them.”
It makes no effort to hide the bitterness in its voice.
Dain flies though the palace, scanning the halls, the gardens, and other such areas. The form of a bird is useful, but not as much as it once was. The people know that Jasmine can communicate with animals, so it knows that the guardian of the south will not be foolish enough to be caught.
In addition, sorcery seems to drive away sorcery, as areas that would make easy targets are left alone under Dain’s watch.
It feels- repetitive, almost. Dull. Familiar. The danger is something that Dain has dealt with far too many times to find fear within it.
Then, there is chaos.
There is chaos, and screams, and fear, but Dain hears something else.
Music.
Something within him begins to hum with the music, and its form shifts, not caring that others may see. They run- they need to- The direction of the music. Something important is in the direction of the music-
The Sister. Dain remembers, but that does not seem important, because the hum becomes a buzz, and the buzz becomes a kindling.
It finds the hole within the chapel, the darkness below.
What form is it in? He cannot remember- it hardly matters. None of that matters because Dain is burning. The warmth of the Belt was never anything compared to this. It would be comparing a candle to a forest fire.
Sound pours out of Dain’s mouth as he descends to where the Sister is, where the guardian is.
Dain is burning, and it feels wonderful.
With strength they did not possess before, they continue forward- so many are falling to their knees, weakening, but Dain feels powerful. It is little wonder why Prandine and Fallow were Ols- This is what was beneath the palace, and it resonates with everything within Dain.
The world around it is a blur and completely clear. He see them- humans, all at the guardian’s mercy, all weak, and Dain is not scared.
It is burning.
Dain lunges forward and pulls- not a human, an gnome- Gla-Thon out of the sludge, and flings her away from the creature. It pulls the two humans- Jasmine and Barda- away too. Then Lief. Dain grins, another sound rising from what remains of its throat.
Dain had spent so long bathed in the Belt’s gentle light, that he has forgotten what it is like to burn.
The form is shifting, liquid to solid as the guardian realises it cannot suffocate a creature that does not breathe.
The sister is singing and the Belt’s magic is tearing within Dain, but oh, they are fighting, and Dain is burning-
The room shakes with a roar, and they cannot care, not when the creature is almost solid. Not when his tearing into it is finally yielding results-
The guardian attempts to lunge at the dragon, aiming for the throat. Dain grips it by the wrist as it begins to turn again to sludge. In a rush, Dain drives part of its body into the guardian’s new form, not completely solid, but not completely liquid, either.
Everyone may have forgotten, but Dain has not. Ols are not just deceivers, and it does not even try to stop himself as he rips into its enemy. It is burning and this is the thrill that comes with it, everything within it is right and burning and filled with energy that he can use to ruin.
The guardian is recovering, the guardians is recovering, but it does not care, there is a cracking sound, the sound of something being crushed as it strikes and does not stop, and they cannot tell if it is them or the guardian being torn apart, because everything within it is burning-
Another pair of hands join in. Golden. Nevets.
It is surrounded by goldGoldGOLD-
But they are not the enemy, the guardian is as it attempts to reform again. The recovery is slower, but it does not stop tearing. He will stop when the creature is nothing-
The creature is rotting. Rotting to nothing, and everything is burning…
The fire within it cools.
He shudders, and slowly takes form.
Dain feels cold.
A small sound rises from their throat at the thought. He had gotten so used to the Belt’s magic that now that most of it was needed for something else…
Dain realises, far too slowly, that there is sunlight. Sunlight enough to feel as if he has energy, almost-hungry as he is. Sunlight and the sound of people in what should be an underground area. It looks upwards, and-
The top of the cave had been torn through, and crowds gathered above it. The golden dragon had returned, and was not next to Lief.
Dain stares, searching for a face among them.
It shakes themself for a moment. Foolish. Doom is moving the victims, as he should be. If Doom had seen…
Dain feels his throat dry as Lief approaches, alongside Jasmine and followed by the beast.
“Everyone- Everyone has seen-” While most of Del do not know of Ols, seeing Dain’s form and abilities in such away, especially after the false information-
“They saw you attack the creature which was harming us,” Jasmine scoffs, “If they have not learned from their attack on the dragon, there is truly no hope for them.”
Dain gives a smile that he knows is grateful and not pained.
“I-” They glance from Lief to Jasmine, from Jasmine to Leif, and sees the questions across their faces. He will explain in time, but for now, “I am cold, and tired.” That is all they say before curling up, closing their eyes, Tremouring. It is too much right now to remain in human form, and almost by nature, he takes the form of a much smaller creature.
It hears Lief sigh, and place Dain in his pocket. Dain’s noise twitches as it leans against the side closest to the Belt. The natural energy will not be enough after- after burning, but the Belt will help them recover what has been lost. It is exhausted- almost enough so that taking the form of a weapon might be better, but it would also be unnecessary in this situation.
Dain feels the soft warmth of the Belt begin to flood his core again, and allows themself to drift.