Quora was pleased to learn that Stragor's war against Dreamford had already been well underway when she pledged her aid to the lord of darkness. Stragor had filled her in on the kind of war he sought to wage; he would exploit the love Dreamford's people had for their king and how safe the capital was thought to be. He would make several token attacks upon Dreamford's surrounding towns, only destroying enough to drive the citizens away. He deliberately avoided supply lines until he was ready to lay siege to Dreamford itself. Quora cared little for this style of warfare - luckily, Stragor insisted she not be involved until the siege came, where her presence could be instrumental. Until then, Quora was asked to help find a way through the magic barrier protecting the capital.

She had a few ideas.

Quora considered Myratel and wondered if rousing the goddess as she had at the start of her journey was enough to fulfil her assumed role in the Visions. As Quora had ensured long ago that Myratel did not have a body of her own, she would seek out her chosen and see how far he had come. Quora scoured the land in flight and eventually found the telltale column of smoke that betrayed the location of a camp in a small wood. Quora made her approach to the camp, Thedus' scent permeating through the trees.

He was not alone.

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"And, done!"

Thedus pulled a spit off the open flame, admiring the sizzling rabbit roasted to perfection. He set the spit aside to cool off, with Duster sitting nearby, staring with beady and expectant eyes. He grunted impatiently.

"What? I just like eating together, you know?" said Thedus, "When mine's cooled a bit, you can have yours."

Duster's stare didn't shift. His tail swished with anticipation. Thedus sighed and went to a tree where a set of ropes hung. He tugged on the ropes and down came a raw rabbit that was kept high up to prevent predators (but mostly Duster) from getting at it. Thedus threw the rabbit to Duster and sat down by the fire to enjoy his meal.

"This is the life, eh?" Thedus said between bites, "Just a guy and his dog living their own lives. I could get used to this." he nodded with approval, "No wars, no worries, and certainly no godd-"

Duster heard it first, the odd noise from the woods being the only thing that could pull him from his food. The dog stood to attention where the noise in the woods came from - and if Duster was on alert, Thedus was on his feet and getting his sword. Duster let out a low growl.

"What is it, boy?" asked Thedus, keeping his sword sheathed. A woman with glowing orange eyes fixed on Thedus entered the camp. Thedus gasped and recoiled when he saw her. Duster stopped growling.

"No, no, no..." Thedus trembled and drew his sword at Quora, "Not you. Anyone but you. Please, leave us alone..."

Quora was on her knees, and Duster was on his back, panting loudly at the belly scratches he was receiving. Thedus gawked at the sight and put his sword away.

"...You aren't here just to pet my dog, are you?" he stammered.

Quora noticed something about this place, or maybe it was with Thedus. Quora raised a hand and conjured a mote of light - magic was possible near Thedus again. Quora looked at him, expecting an explanation.

"Where is your goddess, boy?" Quora asked mockingly.

"I'll tell you where she ain't." Thedus said, sitting on his log and taking another bite of rabbit, "Here."

"What happened?"

Thedus shook his head, "Long story. Myratel dragged me around like a log and then tried to do me in. She ruined me, so I renounced her. All that's left is me and Duster. It's better this way."

Quora felt oddly saddened for Thedus, "Has Myratel elected another-" her question was interrupted by Duster plastering big kisses on her face. Thedus whistled sharply.

"Here, boy!" called Thedus. Duster rushed to Thedus and rested his head on Thedus's lap for pets, "No idea what she's up to. Don't care. Not my problem anymore."

Quora couldn't sense anything off about what Thedus was telling her - he genuinely wanted to be left alone. Quora stood up.

"You embarrassed me at Campbellton Gate, you know," she glowered at Thedus, "That's twice, now. I usually have a horrible fate in store for people who embarrass me."

Thedus sighed, "Figured that's why you came looking for me..." he put his food aside and kneeled down to hug Duster, the dog giving him a confused look.

"It's the end of the road for us, boy. Wasn't a long one, but it was a good one." Thedus put his back to Quora and shut his eyes, "Make it quick, will you? Don't make me wait for him on the other side."

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Quora crossed her arms at Thedus accepting fate at her hands. If only he had let her finish speaking.

"But not for you, Thedus." said Quora, "You're your own man now, I can tell. I'll leave you with this warning: Dreamford and the surrounding area are about to become dangerous. Tread carefully."

She turned away from Thedus, "Enjoy this life, Thedus."

Thedus heard Quora shift into a bird of prey and fly away. His eyes peeled open. He and Duster shared a look of disbelief.

"...Well, damn it." uttered Thedus, "Now I feel sad."

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In Myrellia...

Quora needed to learn Myratel's status for herself - as well as give the goddess a few choice words for her alleged maltreatment of Thedus, which left Quora with a sour taste.

The sun was beginning to set when Quora arrived in the holy city. As she flew over Myrellia, the city's demeanour had changed drastically since her last visit. The city was still a stinking pit, but now it nearly crawled with patrolling Papal Soldiers, silently and brutally enforcing order upon its people. Despite their protestations, peasants were being all but corralled into the buildings, even into homes that were not their own. When someone fought too hard, they faced the mailed fists of the Papal Soldiers until they were broken enough to comply.

Myratel...you...

Quora felt the stifling power of Myratel's influence in the city - she would have to remain in her bird form until she left the city. Luckily, Myratel was one Quora didn't need to be human to speak to. Quora flew to the cathedral over scores of Papal Soldiers performing marching maneuvers in lockstep, seemingly mindless in their execution. She flew up to the great statue of the goddess and perched on her head. To Quora, the multiple arms sculpted to look like a grand puppeteer were starting to look uncanny.

The voice of Myratel spoke, Begone from here, beast.

Quora replied telepathically, I just wanted to watch you move your little pawns around. Is that so bad?

Your audience is unwelcome.

Quora's bird form squawked mockingly, Was a pawn with a mind of its own too difficult for you to control?

Thedus was useless.

Her feathers ruffled, He tells me you ruined him.

And why is that blasphemer confiding in you?

Simple, replied Quora, We worked together to escape Stragor's clutches. I've clearly helped him more than you have. He trusts me more than he does you.

...Leave this place, at once.

Quora let out another mocking caw, What good is an army that is forced to obey?

Let me show you.

In unison, all of the Papal Soldiers armed with crossbows turned their eyes to the statue and aimed at the head. Quora took flight to a cacophony of snapping as the soldiers rained bolts upon the statue of their own goddess. Quora cawed with laughter as she left the holy city, looking back only to see the statue's face, now a caved-in mess. Myratel becoming a faceless, uncaring goddess seemed apt to Quora.

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In Dreamford...

"...Our supply lines remain intact, but there is another problem: the passenger boats coming to the island have been filled to capacity of late."

"Refugees...," King Dreamford muttered to his general, Carter Strait. General Carter Strait of Dreamford was a man of average build, with his blonde hair kept back in a tight bun. If it were not for the scars on his right cheek that gave his face the appearance of taut leather, Strait would be handsome. He wore dark silver armour over blue cloth and black leather, with a blue tabard at his waist that depicted the white hippocampus rampant. Across his back were sheathed two magickly-charged longswords.

"My scouts haven't spotted any means of bypassing the shield over the city," said Carter, "Still, precautions will need to be made in case the shield fails. What are we to do with the influx of refugees?"

Dreamford put a hand to his chin, "We will open all of the inns to refugees and offer a pittance to citizens who can accommodate them in their homes. General, continue your efforts against the Shadow King."

"Yes, sir," Carter saluted and took his leave of Dreamford's court. Next, an older woman in dirty clothes came before Dreamford - a refugee.

"Milord," she started, "We are grateful for your hospitality, but the nights in the city are cold, especially in the slums. Some of us have taken to starting fires to keep warm, and we're quickly running out of things to burn...I don't want to think about what would happen when we do."

Dreamford nodded intently and called one of his viziers, "The people are cold. Commission production of blankets from any weavers who will listen. Duly compensate them for materials and manpower," he turned to another of his viziers, "In the meantime, begin distribution of firewood and establish safe burning spots for the refugees."

The two viziers bowed low and hurried off to their tasks. The refugee woman thanked Dreamford and took her leave of his court. He felt a slight tug on his sleeve and saw Princess Cordelia's blue eyes looking up at him. She wore a lovely blue silk dress, and her light blonde hair was tied in a halo braid.

"Are you coming to dinner like we planned, father?" asked Cordelia.

Dreamford rubbed the bridge of his nose and shook his head, "I'm...afraid I cannot. The war with Stragor is proving more difficult than expected. Please, eat without me, we'll make plans another time."

Cordelia sulked. She said nothing and left the court. Dreamford sighed deeply and saw who was next to approach his throne: an old man with wispy white hair.

"Good evening, Lord Dreamford," said Cyrus. He produced his journal to Dreamford, to which the king merely raised an eyebrow.

"A book with a gold dragon," said Dreamford flatly, "Care to elaborate?"

Cyrus revealed his brooch. The king's eyes widened.

"You have made a grave mistake coming here, Scion of Fafnir," declared Dreamford, "Captain, arrest this man at once."

"W-what?!" Cyrus stammered in protest. Captain Jonns came clanking behind the old scholar and forced his arms to his back, making him drop the journal. Cyrus was clapped in irons.

"Your grace, wait!" Cyrus shouted, "Be reasonable! The information in that book is...is..."

"It is mine, now." Dreamford picked up the journal, "Careful with him, Jonns. Better he be in one piece when I drag him before my people and turn him into two."

Cyrus shook his head frantically, "...No! No!!!"

"Be quiet!" Jonns growled, smashing an armoured fist into Cyrus's head.

The old scholar's world went black to the clattering of his glasses on the floor.