Rika’s eyes were fogged by tears. She was sitting in front of Mara while Branak slowly turned and growled at her.

“no..” she whispered, holding her tomahawk weakly next to her. Before the wolf could do anything Kazzok rose not far from her. She had never seen him as beastlike as he was now. Almost completely covered by fur. His greenskin turned to a thick brown leather and he was throthing at the mouth.

His eyes were staring at her and his big swine nostrils shivered. She shook her head while the fog in her eyes turned to rain. “Not you two…please..” her plea fell on deaf ears. “We are family…” Her words came weakly. She knew she should stand up and ready herself for their charge but her body wouldn’t allow it. She could never strike either of them. Her knees came closer to her body and had she still two arms she would have hugged them. Only one could, and even that one carried a tomahawk. There was nothing left but tears. She was broken. This was the end.

Suddenly she felt Mara’s arm around her. She still looked soar from her chanting fight against the sorceress. Yet she felt warm. Her arm was far from enough to make it bearable, but it was enough to not be alone.

No word was spoken, all she did was to be there, to face the end together. Be it by dragonfire, druid axe or wolf teeth. They would end as one.

But there was more in Mara’s eyes than the end. There was a fire again, not just the dragon’s blessing but what her heart commanded her to do. She had lost her niece by her own axe and she knew should Kazzok and Branak strike at them they would endure the same pain for the rest of their lives. If they would ever get their sense and life back.

Rika had closed her eyes and rested her head on Mara’s shoulder while the shaman glanced around. She couldn’t find an escape but saw how even the riders struggled with their now feral wyverns. The Dragon next to them huffed in anger while its nostrils flared. For a moment Mara thought it would end them all just when her attention was forced back to the druid and the wolf. Branak tried to jump and Mara did her best to kick him away. When Kazzok charged in, Rika stood up and tried to do the same. Mara followed her example and stood once more. As Kazzok moved in again Rika blocked his big bone axe with her small tomahawk. When they were kids they trained together, and she always won. Yet she wasn’t carrying a big sword anymore and back then it wasn’t to the death. She was forced backwards easily.

Meanwhile Branak moved in to gorge at them once again but Mara did the only thing she could to stop him and threw herself on the big wolf. He was laying on his back while she tried to keep him there. He barked and tried to bite her and she was almost thrown off by him. The wolf was both bigger and stronger than her. Finally she couldn’t hold him down any longer and was thrown at her back. Just as he was about to snap at her neck Rika kicked him off her. A hint of a yelp was his answer and the warrior’s eyes fogged by tears again. Yet she had no time to linger on her sorrow as she continued to defend Kazzok’s swings.

As the boarbeast was next to Mara he squealed and brought his axe down at her head while Branak now aimed for her leg.

“No!” Rika declared and threw herself at Kazzok to force him to the ground. It gave Mara the time to shift her leg backwards and to answer Branaks attempt with kicks at his face. He roared afterwards. The sound from his maw carried an unnatural fury. It sounded less like a wolf but more like a swarm of angry bees.

Around them, similar fights happened. Mounts and companions, druids and their friends, all of them reduced from brotherhood to bloodshed. Where blood was spilled, the ground quickly drank it in and fed the menhir’s runes. The big spider mount from the deepest south had half eaten her rider. Only a torso still hung from her gorging maw while a thousand teeth hacked her down. There was still life in the riders eyes, but they were beyond horror. They were blank. The bat that had lost her rider before was clashing with a wyvern above. And the dragon’s riders tried their best to force their beasts to stay.

Around the menhir those that had given their blood freely were the wildest beasts of them all as they all launched themself at Thick-Skin. He defended himself as much and long as he could. All the mercy he had with them before was gone. Only fury for their choice remained.

And among them all the molded giant stood watch and glanced up at the dragon. Their eyes were locked. Both of their maws were long rotten and carried the sweet stench of death. Old scars were among them both and they both still carried the fury of ages past.

“ENOUGH!!” the dragon commanded and roared into the sky again. It boomed loud enough to shake the earth. At the distant cliffs rocks were falling again and buried those that were close.

During a swing of his axe the roar forced Kazzok back to his mind. He fell forward and into Rika while his skin slowly turned green again. The fur retreated. He coughed heavily and blood left his mouth. Rika lost her tomahawk and stood against the soil to even hold him on two legs. Finally he could bring his eyes to look at her. Panic and concern had conquered him completely and he looked her over, while her own eyes did the same. She simply took him into a hug and he echoed her embrace. His axe fell down. And for a second the world’s end was but a distant slow thought behind them. She didn’t want to let him go. She wanted to feel his arms around her. To feel safe and to be there for him. She wanted to go back to the pines and continue their hunts. She wanted to rebuild their home and to forget the horrors of this night. Slowly she brought her face to linger on his eyes. He seemed beaten. Just like her. Their eyes met and their hearts sang the same rhythm. She wanted to bring her face even closer. To finally meet his lips after such a long time and she knew he had always wanted the same.

Just as she came close he grunted in pain again and the whispers returned to the wind.

“They. Are. Mine.” Slowly Kazzok’s hair turned to fur again. She closed her eyes in defeat and shook her head. “No.” she stated. Her gaze went down to Branak who was covering in pain again and to Mara who laid gasping next to him. And finally she looked at the molded giant and his tree with its hanging corpses.

“Go!” Kazzok grunted as he fell to the ground. His eyes turned wild once more.

Rika wasn’t listening. She grabbed her tomahawk and aided Mara up to her feet. Her eyes never left the giant. Mara followed her gaze and looked at the giant but back to the dragon as well.

Finally it took word again. “What will we do?” It asked. Even though its voice was not a roar, it seemed to turn back some of the transformation the druids and beasts went through. “Will we roar and shout until we split them in two?”

“They. Are. Mine.” the whispers answered and the giant stomped the ground with his tree. The winds rose even stronger and the druid's pain rose much more. Mara had a hard time standing as well and leaned on Rika. She wasn’t sure if it was the dragon's presence or her own newfound strength that made her withstand the whispers' pain, she was just glad that she did. “I will kill him.” Rika declared with fury in her eyes.

Mara slowly nodded while her gaze went around the battlefield. Few orcs were left. Druids and companions might have not been plenty but those that had offered their blood were almost half of the warriors, and they had made a difference in the chaos. Thick-Skin still stood and he was surrounded by a band of warriors. All of them back to back, ready to defend themselves against the next beastial charge. Yet for now, only pain lingered in the beasts.

“You need them for your ritual. I have no care for them!” the dragon's voice boomed through the arena. Mara’s gaze returned to the dragon and she saw how even the riders glanced up at it questioning. Even from a distance she could see Ur’back right next to it. She would have never expected him to be the watcher after her brother's exile, but he carried the grey cloak that marked him as such.

Slowly the dragon's throat started to glow. “We need to move!” The shaman urged. Rika remained for a second longer. The hunters eyes full of hatred and never leaving the molded giant.

Mara quickly got two pelts from the nearby healer tents and tried to pull Kazzok onto one. “Help here!” she yelled at Rika which finally forced her to look at her again. She understood and rolled Kazzok, who was still shaking in pain, onto the pelt. After she was done she tried to do the same for Branak, while Mara knotted a rope around the pelts. Finally both were on them and the two women dragged the heavy bulk of a druid and the big wolf after them. Mara did her best to aid, yet even with only one arm, Rika pulled most of them. A stench neither of them knew, sulphur, was starting to take the air and a heat started to rise.

“You. Are. Old.” The whispers taunted the dragon. “You. Were. Back. Then. You. Are. Worse. Now.”

The heat rose to an almost unbearable height, to a point where it almost scorched the skin. While they dragged the two behind them, Kazzok fell off the pelt. Rika huffed annoyed and desperate while she turned to roll him on it once more. Meanwhile Mara looked back up and saw that the Dragon’s throat had a glow brighter than a torch by now. It lit the arena below with the promise of doom. Maybe it was its growing fire that started to protect her more and more from the immense pain the voices brought, but it still meant death. For she saw, they wouldn’t make it in time.

She looked back at the cliff where they were trying to hide and finally saw the ogre legions again marching into the Arena. “Rika!” She whispered back. “We need a cave!”

As Rika looked at the cliff she huffed but took both ropes over her shoulder again and started to drag their pain ridden companions to another direction. When she saw the next cliff it was filled by Ogres too. Some living, some fed by the black clouds above.

Once again she shifted and dragged them towards the mesa wall itself.

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The heat started to burn dried incense behind them, while at the western gate they could see the floating shadow of the sorceress above the main legion of Ogres. In front of the legion was a man with a red cloak and an obsidian curved sword. Next to him walked what could have looked like a shaman were it not for the rot of sorcery he carried with him. Dark crystals, dried heads and tattoos of runes that twisted the ancient tongue. A grim smile was carried on that man while the other remained stoic.

Mara panted as she did her best to aid Rika in dragging the ropes and pelts. “We need to hide..” she said breathlessly.

Rika glanced around, the fury in her commanded her to fight against that thing that brought her family such pain. But she knew the shaman was right. “Below the stands and into the caves.” She huffed to stifle a roar as she put all her weight and strength into the ropes to drag them further.

Behind them the sorcereres’ voice was echoing through the arena. “Oh, what a grand moment we have chosen my sons.”

Rika didn’t stop but she recognised that ugly “fair” voice from before.

“Run ahead.” Rika told Mara. The shaman's eyes glanced over to hers with concern and a raised brow but Rika continued before she spoke. “If she sees you are still alive you will be the first to die.” Her words and their truth weighed heavy on Mara’s heart. Not because she feared death, but because she was reminded that only a shaman was a true match for their sorcery. She breathed in slowly and nodded.

She wanted to answer “Be quick, if the Dragon unle~” “Go!” Rika barked at her. The two shared one last look that was far softer than the words spoken. Mara nodded and rushed ahead. It hurt to leave them behind, made her sick to the core to not aid them as they had aided her. But Rika’s words rang true.

While running she could hear the dragon unleash its breath and saw its fire from the corner of her eye. It blinded her, and its heat even at a distance was burning. Just before it started to reach the arena the sorceress unleashed a banshee’s cry that rivaled the dragon’s roar in its ear splitting doom. Mara fell to her knees, both for the pain in her ears as well as the pain of sorcery that coursed through her once more.

Behind her the black clouds from both above and from the undead were shot at the dragon's breath. They circled around each other. They fought each other. The dragon continued to breath and roar while the clouds shooting at him slowly emptied the sky. Even through the stars and moon the night remained black. The battle had taken long enough that it was close to twilight by now and the night at its darkest hour.

While sorcery and dragonfire both fought to consume the arena, Mara forced herself back up and lumped forward.

“A Fight. We continue.” The voices echoed through fire and darkness. “A fight. Halted. For so. Very. Long.” After its words the winds circled around the menhir and started to aid the sorceress’ clouds until finally, the dragon lost its breath. The night was emptied of darkness and the dragon of fire.

While she ran Mara could hear it huff and breath like an old man climbing the mountain. It would lose a fight against both. Even though its fire could mean their doom, their ascension would as well. She glanced around. A cave wouldn’t do. She needed to get up on the mesa again. She needed to sing once more. Yet the cliffs were filled with ogres and climbing was not an option. Even if she wouldn't need to hide it was such a lot of ground to cover and she was weakened from running, singing and battling. Her muscles burned and her entire body demanded her to sleep. Soon they would have fought the entire night and it was long due to end.

Behind her the sorceress left the dragons stare and looked at the molded giant. Slowly she floated to him. She looked different than before. Fatter, closer to an ogre.

The giant didn’t move but just looked at her with grey eyes. She floated high enough to be at his face. A quick glance was given to the Dragon who still huffed from its roar while one of his riders next to him seemed to speak orders. She didn’t care and brought a hand to the giant's cheek. Grey mold was growing over it like moss and its stench carried the same biting rot as her land and her sons. “Oh it has been so long my love..”

Once Mara heard those words she turned. Like all shamans she had heard the old tale of the two sorcerers. The tale of how the dragon was wounded ages ago, a tale the elders hated to tell.

“Time. Has been. Good. To you.” The whispers carried with a sweet bite through the winds.

She chuckled. “Oh I wish I could say the same.” She removed her hand from his molded cheek and glanced back up at the dragon. Once her eyes returned to him her voice carried the sweet fair of innocence again. “Last we lost because we were divided.” A dark smile spread across her face.

“It has cost. Us. Centuries.” It whispered.

Mara knew where their conversation would go. The Dragon would stand alone. Maybe the riders could be of aid, but it wouldn’t be enough. By now Rika was close enough to her that they could share a glance again. She hid Kazzok and Branak beneath the wooden stands and fell to her knees next to them. She held a hand on each. Their breathing was slower. There were too many reasons for why it could have been, yet Mara wasn’t to speculate.

Rika looked at her next to the cliff with a raised brow and Mara’s eyes spoke of goodbye. Even though the sorceress voice lingered through the night and was answered by the whispers, they couldn’t hear it. Their eyes spoke all that was needed. Sorrow, but gratitude. For everything that was, and still might be. For a friendship that bloomed so quickly and for a morning under a tree.

Unsure if she would ever see them again Mara turned to climb. It was a hopeless effort but she was a daughter of the mountain afterall. Daughter of Ara’Gash the mountain on wings, and shaman of the hollowed. She was a voice among Frostsong and carried the valley’s melody inside her. It gave her purpose, it gave her strength yet it didn’t make it much easier. The cliff was an almost plain rise up. Sometimes she tried to hold herself on a small savannah tree that tried to grow there, other times she could actually take a second of rest as she reached one of the many caves. For a moment she thought if they could lead up, but she knew better. They wouldn’t have fought so hard for the path down at the cliff if that was the case.

Behind her the dragon slowly gathered itself again while the sorceress spoke once more. “What about your children, my love?”

“Their blood. Is mine.” The giant answered and stomped his tree on the ground. Roars and screeches and barks were the answer.

The sorceress smiled. “So they are for the sacrifice.” She smiled back up at the dragon. “So are my sons.” One Ogre shifted at those words while most of the legion remained dim and happy about their mother.

Her gaze returned to him. “We protect them, and this time we share its power.”

“Sharing?!” the dragon boomed. “I am not to share, witch!” It roared and with its roar the riders finally started to move and swarm the arena. They tried to breath fire at the two dark figures of sorcery yet her voice echoed in the twisted tongue. The pain cast by it almost made Mara fall, but she huffed and grunted through it, like her brother would, like Rika would, like Kazzok and Branak and all of them would, and moved on.

Behind her a fight of fire and sorcery started. She felt the earth shake when the dragon moved and heard cloudless lightning be cast above. Winds that carried the menhir's illness of mind and soul were rushing through the arena behind her, but she didn’t look back. She continued. Despite how much her muscles burned, despite the pain of sorcery and the lack of strength her previous fight had left her, she continued. One hand after the other. One foot after the next. She grabbed the earth tight and whispered a silent prayer in the ancient tongue that the stone would hold her.

The battle behind her slowly took to the sky where the sorceress and the dragon casted fire and darkness at each other. Even though the dragon was withstanding the darkness, the winds came and shoved it too and they were filled with more than whispers. Every bird around the savannah, everything that could fly followed them. From vultures, to bees, to bats to the most colorful birds, they swarmed it. It roared in an attempt to free them from the giant's shackles, but left itself open to the sorceress darkness as it did. It started to fall but roared through the pain a thousand pecks and stings tried to leave on its scales. Yet when it tried to dash at the sorceress they instead went for its eyes. Once again it was falling down and this time shattered down at the savannah ground outside of the mesa. The earth shook so much by its weight that Mara could do nothing but hold herself in place for a moment. But she knew it needed her now the most. The two couldn’t be allowed to take its corpse for ascension. So despite the shaking earth and falling stones she continued. Sand and dust was falling into her face. She had to close her eyes for a second, she had to spit out dust that was drying her tongue, but she continued.

Behind her the riders had started a fight with the ogres and the ogres with the small rest of the greenskins. Some were still driven by the bloodlust of the hunt, others by just the simple but strong attempt to survive. Or just by the urge to die with honour.

She wondered and longed for Rika below. If she was well or fighting once more. If Kazzok and Branak were being taken by the shackles of bloodlust once again. But it made no difference to her quest. She needed to reach the top and sing to the skies and the ancestors. To the close savannah and the distant mountain, to her father and to Kara.

As the Dragon was laying on the savannah ground and tried to get up, stampedes of the beasts rushed for him. Once again they seemed as if in chaos at first before they got to his old wound and eyes. They tried to bite them, to scratch them, to charge their horns into them, but with a last breath it unleashed fire from its mouth and snout. The beasts that were going for its eyes were turned to ash in an instant and the savannah started to burn. But its opponents gave it no rest. Unrelenting the sorceress unleashed lightning at it while she sang the twisted tongue with the wrongest tones only to be aided by the swarm and stampede of animals.

Finally Mara reached the top. With her very last strength and while grinding her teeth she pulled herself up. She couldn’t move. She needed to breathe. But there was no time. She stumbled up to her feet and to the edge towards the fight of the dragon and the sorcerers in the east. Her gaze went along the destruction they caused. The fire, the death, the black ashes and dark lightning that all conquered the horizon. But she needed to aid him, and destruction was what she could unleash.

Slowly she breathed in and out. Calmed her heart and breath while raising her arms.

She needed to gulp down to dry her sore throat before slowly and quietly she began to sing. Over the destruction of it all, over the screams and roars and charges, her voice was slowly carried with the wind. The ancient tongue that once created the world, the tongue of the dragons, of the land, the ancestors and the elements themselves, went over the battlefield. A low melody that sang about the end of it all.

Some stopped their flights to gaze at the winds, some lost their bloodlust as the whispers were fought by her melody and slowly she turned the song up. It became louder and from her sore throat, from melancholy and sorrow it turned into defiance and the land answered. There were no clouds but the fire around the dragon rose and with it the first sunless hews of dawn were cast above the eastern mountains.

The sorceress unleashed another banshee's wail as she saw the shaman sing. It gathered the smoke of the burning savannah and unleashed it from all that distance back to Mara at the mesa. Mara shifted her song and moved with the winds. She made the black smoke her own and released it back to the winds. Yet after it a swarm of carrion birds led by another giant bat were charging at her. She tried to call to the fire around the dragon and burn the swarm but it wasn’t enough and the Dragon only had eyes for his own enemies.

She opened her eyes and saw the swarm, the bat, her end coming for her when with a crash a wyvern landed next to her. It breathed fire into the swarm and went into a fight with the bat. She staggered in her song as her heart pounded a louder drum when saw it was her brother on its back. Before the bat could fight properly a grand desert wyvern dashed by in unison with a swarm of riders. Still Mara’s eyes continued to look at her brother, defending her life. With newfound strength she sang louder once more. Her song suddenly aided by the horn of the Khan.