The next day, Relma was led out of her cell and through the gates of Del Gabor. The doors slammed shut behind them with an audible clang. Thus revealing the snarling and glaring face of a monster carved into them. To think, she had just started to like the place too. Rioletta was nowhere to be seen, though some of her spiders remained. There was a group of satyrs waiting for her.

Shren was among them. And Lucius appeared. "These warriors will take you to your friends. Messages have been sent ahead, so they know we are coming. I should advise you not to stray too far."

"My warriors and I shall protect you with our lives," said Shren. "And if we are betrayed, we shall kill you with our own hands." He paused. "Would you prefer rope or just a sword between the ribs? Or a cutthroat?"

"Thank you, Shren," said Relma. "I'll leave the judgment in your hands. Out of curiosity, where is Rioletta?"

"Tending to her own affairs, of course," said Lucius.

"And what affairs would those be?" asked Relma.

"I'm not one to inquire about my enemies' private business," said Lucius. "I know of it by other means."

"Enemies?" asked Relma. "You were working together. You are working together."

"There is no such thing as friendship among the hells," said Lucius. "Merely a mutual use that will be cast aside when that use is outlived by one or both parties. If you will excuse me, I have other business to attend to."

And he disappeared.

Shren motioned to Relma. "We must go quickly. The Dust Elves may have spies waiting for us." They walked through the Dust Lands, and as they did, Relma noticed something. The land wasn't just barren, like a patch of grass that had been trampled. It was dead. Nothing dwelled in this place or very little, and she sensed something absent. She had felt it all her life but never noticed it until recently.

"These lands are strange. It's like the spirits are asleep," said Relma.

"They were crushed beneath the will of Lucius in ancient times," said Shren. "They sought to defy him and so paid the price. And they have yet to recover from it."

All this devastation for one offense? "What did they do to offend him?"

"There are many stories. Some say they broke a contract with him," said Shren. "Consider it a warning." He paused. "If we are betrayed, I think I'd best keep things simple and run you through the heart. I want to kill at least one enemy before I die, and Dust Elves attack swiftly."

"Why are you so hurry to die?" asked Relma. The whole species seemed fixated on death.

"It is our purpose," said Shren. "Other satyrs have strayed from the path of blood and death. But we pursue it even now. Ours is the people who will wash away all over the world."

So they walked through barren lands. As they did, they scaled crags and walked through dunes of sand. The air was tense, and gradually, Relma began to sense a bit more life. "Why would the Dust Elves ever want to live here?"

"No one wanted this domain," said Shren. "The land is nearly worthless. So when they were forced out of Escor, it was up for grabs."

"So why would Lucius want to unleash an invasion of orcs here?" asked Relma. "Wouldn't it make more sense to pick somewhere that could support an army?"

"It would," said Shren. "Which is why he picked here. Fortenex is often impatient to act and sometimes makes mistakes. If Lucius could open a portal here, Fortenex might send forth the race into this world. They'd then be slaughtered in droves by the Dust Elves, and even if they won, the land they gained would be worthless."

"So he's starting an extraplanar invasion, so it will fail?" asked Relma.

"I think so," said Shren. "Orcs are not satyrs or humans, so Lucius would love it if they were exterminated. He would still love it if they took severe losses fighting the Dust Elves. From there, they'd starve to death in the wastes."

"And you're willing to give your lives for this cause?" asked Relma.

"There is no difference between a good deed and an evil one," said Shren. "They are merely a matter of like and dislike. What matters is that you commit yourself to something greater. That is the way of salvation, to give up the self in pursuit of another's glory.

"We are obligated only to our ancestors, who brought us into this world. And Lucius is the ultimate ancestor."

"What about Evoria?" asked Relma.

"Oh, she's dead," said Shren. "Though I've heard there are some shrines raised to her here and there." Then he halted. "We're nearly there. We'll move to that hill and raise the flag of parley."

"Why?" asked Relma, looking around and seeing nothing. "Who are you parleying with?"

"Someone you haven't seen yet," said Shren as they scaled the hill. Then he motioned. "See there."

"I don't see anything," said Relma, staring over a series of black rocks.

Then, she began to pick up movement. Sand moves slowly across the wastes between the rocks. Some of the sand seemed to disappear into the rocks. Others moved away, and it wasn't because of the wind. Gradually, Relma realized it wasn't sand.

It was people. People clad in cloaks like the landscapes. The rocks were tents, and they were everywhere. More and more, Relma picked out tents all around her and what looked like a market. This was no wasteland; it was a city!

"...I see them. They're all around us," said Relma.

"Indeed," said Shren. "The Dust Elves are perhaps the most dangerous creatures to hunt. If we die here, it shall be a fitting end." And he drew out a scimitar as around them emerged dozens of robed figures. They were wielding short swords and bucklers while some stayed behind with bows. These had arrows trailing on them.

And into sight came a Dust Elf. He was very tall for his kind, making him of average height. His eyes were narrowed, and over his mouth was a scarf. One of his long ears was notched, and he held a spear toward them. On his head was a helm of steel with silver ornaments. Shren quickly put a sword to Relma's throat, though not unkindly.

"Speak your terms, satyr. Then prepare to die," snarled the elf.

"We are not here for battle. We have come to return a prisoner." Said Shren.

"Have you?" asked the Dust Elf. "I know of no prisoners."

Obviously, Lucius would have talked with Aunt Pan about any such arrangement. There must have been a meeting where it was decided on, and if Aunt Pan had not told this elf, Relma wouldn't either. That is not the full truth. "I am Raleen. I was in the company of Lady Pandora as a serving girl. I was captured by Lucius, whose servants mistook me for another.

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"He wishes to return me as a show of goodwill."

The Dust Elf raised an eyebrow. "Goodwill? His armies are moving into my lands?"

"I don't believe he was sending his goodwill to you, though I mean no offense by it," said Relma. "He is returning me to my Mistress."

The elf scanned over Relma, then the satyrs. "I see.

"Give her into my custody, and I will return her. You will then return to your own kind, where you may live longer."

"We will breathe our last when your veins are empty," replied Shren with a laugh.

Then, ruffling Relma's hair, he shoved her toward the elf, who stepped aside and let Relma pass. Shren and his warriors left, and Relma was taken into the city. She saw all kinds of strange things. There seemed to be some sort of ritual before a small forest of scrub trees.

"What is that?" asked Relma.

"We are performing the duties of Laevian," said the elf from before. "Lucius devastated this land long ago. We are attempting to restore life to it. But healing requires both the restoration of the spirit and the body. Without one, the other cannot live.

"They are attempting to draw out the weakened spirits into those lands we are working on. It is a long process, but we have been able to make parts of this land grow food."

"How do you survive in this place?" asked Relma.

"We import most of what we need," said the elf. "Our people are great warriors, and we earn great fortunes abroad in the wars. We also provide shelter to merchants moving through the regions. That guides them for payment. The artists among us also fashion glass from the sands. One can make a living virtually anywhere; you need only know where to look.

"Come, we will speak in my tent."

As it turned out, his tent was more ornate than the others. Within it were all manner of weapons and riches. Relma gazed at them with wonder as the elf offered her a cup. "Now then, what errand is it that Lucius sent you on? Seldom have prisoners left Del Gabor unchanged?"

"So Lucius has prisoners often?" asked Relma. "I didn't see anyone else in my time there."

"...He has only recently taken up residence," said the elf. "Answer the question."

Relma paused. "He would have me deliver a message regarding the Heir of Kings."

"And the Heir of Kings, where is she?" asked the elf.

"Relma isn't captured to my knowledge," said Relma. "But... Lucius seems like the sort of person who would do anything. I'd hate to think what might have happened to her."

"Then you believe her to be dead?" asked the elf.

"I met Lucius," said Relma. "I think... He would have killed her instantly if he thought she was a threat. And she was a threat to him."

He nodded. "...Excellent.

"That is one more problem solved. Come, we will bring you back to the Lady Pandora, and you may explain matters to her."

Relma shuddered at his tone. "Thank you. May I ask your name?"

"I am King Drakaran of the Dust Elves," said the elf. "I am pleased to hear that the enemy of my ally is dead. It is one less obstacle to my plans."

"How is it that your people hide so easily?" asked Relma, trying to change the subject.

"It is a rare talent our race was blessed by in the beginning of all things," said Drakaran. "Granted to us by Laevian in our forming."

"Laevian is feared by humans," said Relma. "And everyone else, for that matter."

"She is feared by us as well," said Drakaran. "However, she tolerates us more than she does other mortals."

"Why does she hate mortals?" asked Relma.

"She was against their creation at the beginning of the world," said Drakaran. "She desired that the universe be one of the wild animals without any mortal races. We were created to counteract the damage they did to the natural world."

"That sounds dull," said Relma.

"Have you ever been stranded in the wild?" asked Drakaran.

"Once or twice," admitted Relma.

"Then you should know such a realm would be dangerous," Said Drakaran. "Mortals brought about things like order and harmony. Nature is not harmonious. Nor is it chaos.

"Nature is a sea of competing interests.

"We mortals are unnatural because we bring meaning to a meaningless world. We may consume far more than we need simply out of greed. Likewise, we may keep ourselves in check or help other races."

"If she hates us so much," said Relma, "why is she your god?"

"It isn't practical for a god to not have a race," said Drakaran. "Dark spirits might be her favored species. But mortal races are an important part of any divine hegemony."

"And why do you worship her?" asked Relma.

"Our ancestors did, and we want to be reunited with them when we die," said Drakaran. "Many of them have become dark spirits who serve in her eternal wood."

Relma felt in danger here. "May I ask you something, King Drakaran?"

"Of course," said the King.

"Why do you want the Heir of King's dead?" asked Relma.

"It's nothing personal, you understand," said Drakaran, removing his helm. His dark hair fell around his shoulders. "We Dust Elves stand on a razor's edge, and only our alliance with outside powers allows us to remain free. We play one side against the other and make alliances as we see fit.

"But if the Heir of Kings achieves their destiny, they will have control of the three kingdoms. Baltoth will be dead. With Calisha in chaos, their next step will be to reclaim their old dominions. The Dusk Lands have only recently come into our hands, and the Heir of King's has a claim to its rule.

"Having outlived our usefulness, they would surely destroy us."

"But maybe they wouldn't even consider doing that," said Relma somewhat weakly.

Drakaran drew off his cloak, then his chain shirt. Beneath was a toned body, visible even beneath his garments. "Then their descendants would. Humans change constantly. It is their great strength and great weakness. Because their kings change so often, their policy is constantly shifting.

"You can't rely on humans for more than twenty to fifty years," He turned and motioned to the guards. A servant brought forth two cups. "That was our mistake in Escor." Taking a cup, he offered it to Relma. "Will you join me for a drink?"

Relma took the cup and noted Drakaran's eyes on her. "...You don't believe me, do you?"

"No," admitted Drakaran. "I met with Lady Pandora some time ago. I know she keeps no servants, and I've had your description for some time. Varsus was very helpful here."

"Was he involved in this?" asked Relma.

"Oh, far from it. He doesn't need to know, and he never will," said Drakaran. "The whole thing is somewhat distasteful. But when one is dealing with the fate of entire races, one must, on occasion, be a little ruthless.

"You'll feel no pain.

"Your eyes will droop. You'll drift off to sleep and then simply never wake up. Your body will be buried in sand, and the world will continue as if nothing happened. Of course, you will reincarnate, but the bloodline will be severed. The threat will have ended."

Relma paused. She needed to stall. "...You were very open about the fact that you wished me harm. Why?"

"Well, the bloodline of Elranor has a... sixth sense," Said Drakaran. "They can divine the nature of those they meet fairly easily, see below the surface.

"So I thought I'd put my intentions upfront as a cover for a smaller lie. The lie: I believed you in the first place.

"Did it work?"

"Very well," said Relma. "You do realize this isn't work, don't you?"

"You're just stalling," said Drakaran.

"There is a prophecy," said Relma. "It has to come true in some form. If the Heir of King's bloodline is wiped out, it can't happen. And I'm the last.

"Look, this plan was very good.

"But I think we both know that something is going to come completely out of nowhere to stop this from happening."

"A true enough assessment if you are the only heir," said Drakaran. "Unfortunately for you, there is another bloodline."

Relma paused. "What?"

"Yes." said Drakaran. "Have you heard of a man named Tuor?"

Relma knew the name, though she felt very little for it. "...Yes. He killed my parents."

"He was a bastard son of Anoa the Bright, taught by Gail Arengeth alongside Lady Pandora. He was granted the same immortality," said Drakaran. "He later stole a powerful artifact and fled east to take up service with Baltoth.

"A man who betrays one master will surely betray the other.

"It is possible that the prophecy refers to Tuor overthrowing Baltoth. From there, he could later conquer Harlenor."

"Won't that be worse than me becoming King?" asked Relma.

"In the short term, perhaps," admitted Drakaran. "But his reign would be unstable and shortlived. Harlenor will never submit to rule by an outside power. They are a proud and savage race, unwilling to accept slavery to anyone. Let alone one who betrayed their god.

"The bloodline of Anoa the Bright will be destroyed. The dream of Harlenor Reunited will die. And people will cheer-"

And then, a guard rushed into the room. "King Drakaran! Black dragons are coming right toward us! Dozens of them!"

"And that will be Adrian Wrynncurth," said Relma.

"Wrynncurth?" asked Drakaran.

"Yes, I asked him to help us against Lucius a little while ago," said Relma. "A very powerful sorcerer with a great many friends.

"Now, I'm sure you could poison me before he lands. But then someone might happen to stumble in here. After all, Elranor is probably going to be slightly upset. Gods who get angry can give you a run of bad luck at the very least." Then she raised the cup. "Conversely, you could take this cup from my hand and tell me it's the wrong drink.

"Then we go out there; I introduce you to Wrynncurth. From there, I turn the discussion to the possibility of a Black Dragon, Dust Elf alliance. If that works, we'll naturally bring Telix, a son of Baltoth, into the discussions.

"In one move, you'll have access to the beginnings of a powerful league. And when I inherit Gel Carn, we will completely control Southern Antion.

"You won't be breaking with House Gabriel or De Chevlon; this is just a side deal. And if they happen to backstab you later, well, you'll have a solid backup plan."

Drakaran looked at her, stunned for a moment. "...You are neither as clever nor as naive as you pretend to be, Relma Artorious. We'll play things your way for the moment."

"Thank you." Said Relma.

Well, that had all worked out well; now she just had to get Lucius involved. Once she managed that, the plan would be well underway...