"How much further is it?" Nidalee asked, keeping her voice low.

Patches grinned, "Not much longer now, lass."

Nidalee frowned, but didn't respond. She wasn't sure what to make of her old mentor. He had changed in the years since she'd last seen him. When she had known him as Gothos he'd been a wise and patient scholar whose life had been dedicated to studying the history of Teon.

Now he was a madman, tainted by the blight and obsessed with achieving some secret goal. His eyes glowed with an unnatural blue light, and he spoke of strange things, not to her but to the crows that seemed to follow him everywhere.

One of the crows landed on Patches’ shoulder and tilted its head to watch her.

"Don't look at me, you evil bastard," Nidalee hissed.

The crow squawked in response, and Patches’ laughed. He pointed up ahead, "We are nearing the top," he said, to either the crow or her, she couldn't tell.

Nidalee paused to catch her breath. The hill was a steep one, and she had to lean forward against the weight of her pack to keep her balance, but if she stopped leaning she felt like she would tip over.

Malachi's griffins would have made easy work of the hill. The thought of Malachi brought a pang of regret. He still believed in their master. So much so that Gothos had taken him aside and given him a personal mission. She had tried to speak with Malachi afterward, but he had changed. He was cold and distant, and it had felt as though there were no part of him left that cared for her.

Patches tugged on her leash, urging her to keep moving. She pushed the thought away and concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, the memories too painful.

"You'll have to hurry, Nidalee," his voice rang with madness. "My brothers are waiting for us, and trust me, you don't want to keep them waiting."

She quickened her pace, struggling up the hill as fast as she could. Patches had never hurt her before, but she knew he was capable of it. It was only when she'd seen him defeat the genesis floor boss that she understood how dangerous he really was.

She was beginning to wonder if she'd ever truly known him. He was not human, that much was clear, but neither was he a zorin, or a sliven, or any of the other races of the Tower. She wasn't sure what he was, but she had a feeling it was something not of this world.

That thought terrified her.

She'd tried to find answers in his dreams, but his mind was an impenetrable fortress. No matter how hard she'd tried, she couldn't find a way in. He'd refused to tell her much about himself or his goals, but from the orders he'd given her, she knew that whatever his plans were, they would have repercussions for the whole Tower.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't realize she'd reached the top of the hill until she felt a cold breeze on her face.

"How can you be sure we're going the right way?" she asked.

"The birds are guiding me," Patches said.

Nidalee shivered, thinking of the flock of crows that had followed them. The sight of them always unsettled her, their beady eyes and harsh cries sending chills down her spine. They all carried the blight, they were the antithesis of life, a corruption that spread like a disease, and yet they lived.

The first day she had tried to escape, but had quickly learned that the crows were everywhere, always watching, and she was no match for their blight tainted beaks and claws.

So, she followed Patches, hoping that when he was done with her, he'd release her from his service. She couldn't bear the thought of being a slave to the madman, but she didn't have any choice.

She looked up at the sky, her breath catching in her throat as she saw the sun rising in the east. It looked like the first stage of Patches' plan had worked, Tiamara had been set free from her prison and the sun had returned. But as Nidalee watched, she noticed that the light of the sun was a sickly, greenish hue.

The sight of it filled her with dread.

The sun wasn't what it should be. It was tainted by the blight, a mockery of what it had once been. What had Patches done, what magic had he used to set the Mother Dragon free?

Nidalee's thoughts were interrupted by a sharp tug on her leash. She stumbled forward, barely keeping her balance as she was dragged along behind Patches.

"We're almost there," he said, his voice filled with excitement. "Soon, you'll be able to see the fruits of my labor. Soon, you'll understand why I had to do what I did."

Nidalee didn't reply. She wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer.

They crested the hill, and Nidalee saw the village and above it, in the sky, was a red slash of light. A tear in the sky itself, a rip that bled fire and rage.

"What is that?" she whispered.

"That, my dear Nidalee, is the beginning of the end."

As if in response, the rift tore wide open, spilling forth horrific creatures that fell like deadly rain, each one screaming with hate and madness.

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Nidalee stared in horror, unable to believe her eyes.

Patches chuckled. "They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, but I think it's the sight of the end that makes us realize what we truly value."

"You're insane," Nidalee said, her voice a whisper.

"Perhaps," Patches said, "but let's see how far you will go to save the people you love."

With a jerk, Nidalee's leash pulled her forward, forcing her to stumble after him as he descended the hill towards the village.

***

When life returned to me, my body was frozen. Magma had hardened around me, encasing me in a solid prison. I had no idea how much time had passed, or if Eliaria and Flint had survived. My thoughts were dark, and my mind filled with despair, and I could do nothing but stare at the endless darkness of the cavern.

I wondered if I'd be trapped in this place forever, dying of thirst, only to be resurrected and die again. Would I be cursed to an eternity of death and resurrection, or would the magma finally consume me, burning away my flesh and bone until there was nothing left but dust?

My mind raced, I thought back to the moment when the magma had washed over me, to the look on Eliaria's face as she'd climbed through the door, to the last sight I'd had of the crow flying above us.

The crow. Why is that important?

I concentrated on the memory, trying to recall every detail. The crow had been circling, cawing madly, but it was its eyes that stood out to me, they were blue, a piercing, electric blue.

Something clicked inside me, and the pieces began to fall into place.

The bird belonged to Patches, I strained against the hardened magma, trying to break free.

The crow was here, in the dungeon, and if it was here, then Patches might not be far behind. Fear surged within me, and I strained with all my might. If he found me here, trapped and defenseless, he would finish the job, he would kill me and rip the foundation card out of my heart, and this time, I wouldn't come back.

I can't let that happen.

As I strained, I heard a crack, and the magma began to give way. My heart raced, and I pushed harder, feeling the rock splintering under the pressure.

I have to get out, I have to warn Flint and Eliaria, I have to save them.

The magma shattered, and I stumbled forward, the hot air of the cavern hitting my skin. I was free, and there was no time to lose.

I looked around, expecting a dragon, or Patches, or something to emerge from the shadows and attack me. But the cavern was empty, and the only sound was the echo of my own breathing.

I have to get out of here, and find the others.

I started towards the exit, my steps echoing in the silence.

With each step, the fear grew, the terror of what might await me. The dragons were waiting for someone, a guest. Was it Patches?

If it was, didn't I have an obligation to find out what he was planning and try to stop him?

I stopped and looked back at the throne room. It would be safer to leave, to try and find Flint and Eliaria, but I couldn't leave without knowing what was going on.

I gritted my teeth, and walked towards the throne room.

The doorway was dark, and the room beyond was cloaked in shadow. The two thrones were silhouetted against the wall, the shapes of Lunaris and Tiamara barely visible.

I stepped into the room, my pulse pounding in my ears.

"This is just the first step in repaying our debt to your master," Lunaris' voice echoed through the room.

"We will not fail him," Tiamara said, her voice smooth as silk. "The essence we have stored from fallen adventurers is yours."

A figure moved towards the throne, his footsteps heavy, his cloak shifting like living shadows. He stood before them, his back to me.

"This will do, the master will be satisfied with the offering," the speaker spoke with a strange accent, his words sounding clipped.

My breath caught in my throat. They were talking about Patches, I knew it.

"Where is your master that we might thank him in person?" Tiamara asked.

"He has business in Kel'Veth. I am his emissary, sent to collect the tribute," the man's voice was cold and hard."

"Very well," Lunaris said. "Is the debt now paid in full?"

"Not quite," the figure said.

I took a step forward, the need to know what they were talking about burning in my veins.

"Then there is more you wish for us?" Tiamara asked, her voice like honey.

"There is, I have a task for you, one that will require your full cooperation."

"What is it?" Lunaris asked.

"We need a distraction," the figure said. "Something to draw the Tower's attention away from our true target."

"A distraction?" Tiamara purred.

"Yes," the figure said. "And the Tower will have no choice but to send its strongest forces to deal with it."

I took another step forward, the need to hear their plans overwhelming my caution.

"We will do whatever it takes," Lunaris said.

"I know you will," the figure said, turning and stepping out of the shadows.

My heart stopped.

The man began to transform, his body shrinking. Black wings sprouted from his back, his features elongating, until his mouth had become a beak.

"Holy shit," I whispered.

The crow's eyes glittered as he spoke, his voice now a harsh caw. "Let the fun begin."

The crow lifted off, soaring up and through the hole in the ceiling.

Lunaris and Tiamara were quiet, their eyes tracking the bird as it flew into the distance.

"Who does that bastard think he is?" Lunaris said, his gaze never wavering. "Sending a crow messenger like we are one of his fucking minions."

"The game has changed," Tiamara said, her voice barely audible. "The age of the old gods is over."

"Not if I can help it," Lunaris spat.

I backed away, not wanting to draw their attention.

I had to find Flint and Eliaria. The crow's plan had nothing to do with the dragons, and everything to do with the Tower. I still had no idea what they were going after, or how to stop them, or even who we were up against, but there was no time to worry about it. The only thing that mattered now, was getting the hell out of this dungeon and warning the others.

Something smashed against a nearby wall, and fire flared brightly behind me.

I turned and ran, the weight of the knowledge pressing down on me, the sense of impending doom filling my soul.

I had no idea how I was going to stop them, but I knew one thing for certain. If Patches was involved, then we were all in trouble.

***