"All stories are about wolves. All worth repeating, that is. Anything else is sentimental drivel."

― Margaret Atwood, The Year of the Flood

"You're screwed now... the way out is gone, you're stuck in here!"

A net of chains closed around them, the space between less than enough for a single arm. Only one way remained, a path slightly off-center from the dragon's light.

"If I'm screwed, then so are you!"

Ven lunged into the mouth of the web, into a passageway that shrunk by the second. Hungry metal snakes, the chains came to an inch from his skin.

"I'll be fine," Dante shrugged, safe within a purple sphere. "But you're about to have problems..."

"Shit..."

A flick of his wrist brought a wave of runes, a wall that turned to ash as it met the black-iron cage. Hands a blur, he wrote every rune he knew. The barrage of words did nothing, dandelions on the wind.

"Oh!" Dante slipped close, the chains driven back by his strange spell. "You're a runemaster, very rare!"

"And useless, apparently," Ven scowled at the simple black chains. "What a waste of time..."

"Certainly not," Dante clapped his hands. "The runic words are the greatest form of magic, these chains are created from similar spells."

"Runic constructs..." Ven edged closer to the wall, careful as he examined the metal. "I don't see any runes."

"They're inside, within the spaces between the matter," Dante drew a single chain into the safe zone. "A rune for every atom, quite the marvel!"

"That would make for... trillions of runes in a single chain, more than that even."

The number of chains made Dante's claim a ridiculous one, but why would he lie? The focus needed for such a thing would be extraordinary, not to mention endurance. How long would it take to place a rune on every star in the sky? A shorter time than to make these chains...

"The work of the Lord of Balance and the Master of Evolution," Dante shrugged. "A relic from a different time, before the War of the Titan."

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"Thanks for the history lesson, very interesting," Ven patted Dante on the back. "Now how about you tell me more while we walk in this direction..."

"Bwahahaha!" Dante brayed. "You are a funny one indeed, but why should I help you?"

"Well," Ven led them forward a step. "You're the one who thinks I'm interesting. If you don't help me, I'm as good as dead!"

"That's true, but when you're dead I can clone you using your cells," Dante held up a strand of black hair, stolen from Ven's head. "The only value the current you has, is in what you have in your pockets!"

"When did you seal tha..."

"Nevermind, boy!" Dante patted both of Ven's shoulders. "Now tell me, what do you have to trade?"

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"We've come to address the destruction of one of our trading vessels," The milk-toast 'ambassador' from the Ori nation smirked. "This kind of attack is a near declaration of war!"

"What attack?" Mara spread her hands wide. "You're missing a ship, that means little to us."

"This vessel held a prince and princes of your county, yet your notoriously vengeful king has done nothing in response," Milk-toast tapped a well-groomed fingernail against Mara's desk. "That means his children are home safe, only the guild has the reach to accomplish such a feat."

"Well, our attention has been elsewhere, as of late..."

"Ah yes, your fallen Grandmaster," Milk-toast grinned. "A tragedy... tell me, have you found someone to replace him?"

The guards behind him projected their powerful auras. Two human Semi-divines, both bound in thick metal collars. They stood at the middle of their tier, but had the stances of practiced warriors. They leaned their might onto Mara's shoulders, an obvious threat.

"We can't accept the escape of any prisoners without compensation..."

"YOU DARE!"

The walls pressed in and vanquished the energies of the guards. Aangor's bulk appeared between the two men, fists above their heads. Mountains fell and Aangor planted the slaves into the floor.

"This is the principal guildhall of the Knights of the World, not some back-alley tavern!"

"How dare..."

Milk-toast scurried back, terror in his eyes. Aangors bulk swelled to fill the room, a wrathful ape with eyes of blood.

"SILENCE," Aangor hefted the man by his shirt. "Go back to your masters and tell them that a new Deity is on the horizon!"

A toss, followed by two kicks, deposited the three Ori outside the guild. Piled into a tangled mess, Milk-toast strained to lift the guards off his tattered body.

"You'll regret this, you arrogant fools!" His guards too heavy, Milk-toast sank back to the earth. "The Emporer will never forgive such an insult!"

"You're not the Emperor," Aangor slammed the door shut. "Ignorant human..."

"They're not all bad," Mara patted the ape's shoulder, a bright smile on her face. "Admit it, it felt good to send them packing!"

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"This is interesting, but not worth much..."

Dante tossed aside the razor-edged rocks Ven collected in the insect's world. They joined a large pile, all of Ven's current collection. All except three objects, which he'd rather keep out of sight.

"Fine then," A deep sigh billowed from Ven's chest. "How about this?"

A long metal rod appeared, a luminous glow that competed with the dragon. Ven had found this on his first day, the bar of an intricate, runic door. He'd considered its use as a weapon, but never found the time to put it to the test.

"Hmmm..." Dante snatched up the rune-inscribed staff. "This is old, almost corroded away..."

The devilish man drew his pale, white tongue across the metal surface. His eyes shifted, a flicker of the blackest flame.

"So... is it good enough for a trade?"

Ven wanted to finish this deal as soon as possible. The chains around them had grown restless. Angry snakes that hungered for the two of them.

"Perhaps," Dante shrugged as the staff vanished in a swirl of fire. "Let's go talk to that boorish dragon, we'll see if you think the trade was worth it."