The silence in the aether sphere was so intense that Dallion could hear every breath and heartbeat. So far, he had done a good job pretending to believe what the other had told him. Hopefully, that was going to be enough to fool the archbishop.

“We don’t,” Simon said.

In his mind Dallion said a lot of things, most of them curses. What he voiced was completely different.

“I don’t follow.” He floated closer to the center of the sphere. “I thought you said that if someone wins, it’s all over.”

“There’s another way to achieve what you want. A direct boon, if you will.”

That’s what you told Tiallia, didn’t you? Dallion frowned. Considering what had happened to her entire race, Dallion wasn’t terribly enthusiastic about that option.

“The Moon emblem,” the archbishop continued. “All hopefuls are given one. I’m no exception and neither are all previous conquerors. Those with enough drive have even completed theirs. I heard that you’re doing pretty well with yours.”

“Don’t believe everything you hear. I’m still missing a few,” Dallion lied.

“Everyone is missing a few, but I’ve foreseen that together there are enough to make a set.”

That filled Dallion with even less enthusiasm. A voice in the back of his mind had already started urging him to reject the offer and continue with more important things. Then again, there was the matter of the archbishop’s assistance.

“You’re suggesting we team up with them?” Even his level of the music skill proved unable to hide the skepticism.

“There can be only one winner in the conventional way, but unlike what they say through their echoes and domains, no one is certain they’ll be the one to make it. Right now, Jeremy and Tiallia are engaged in a series of battles all along the western shore of the continent. Tia decided to take advantage of the minor clash between you and the emperor, so she went all out in the battle for first place. Jeremy considers you weak, and me done with, so he responded.”

“So, whoever wins there wins the world.”

“Not quite. They must win fast. If the battle grinds on, the winner might reach a point at which they’ll be weaker than you. That’s why they are putting everything on the first clash. There’s a good chance that by tomorrow, things will be clear, yet they aren’t right now.”

There was an obvious danger of allying with someone dedicated to an insane belief. The archbishop’s mania that the world—or the “game” as he believed—would end had made him a master of knowing the right time and the right actions to force a desired outcome. Compared to him, the emperor was like an apprentice, though, as the current state of the world showed, sometimes the apprentice could outwit the master.

“We form an alliance and use my Moon emblem to challenge the Moons together,” Dallion mused.

“That’s the simple version, yes. They’ll have their doubts, of course, but if we ask them right now, they’ll have no choice but to accept.”

“That’s why you surrendered to me, didn’t you?”

“The third and fourth combined might prove stronger than the second.” Simon nodded. “Or maybe the first.”

“And because they’re currently fighting between themselves, they can’t easily unite against us.”

“Oh, they could, but would they trust each other? What if this all is an elaborate plot to eliminate them before fighting continues between the remaining three?”

Only because you’re the one who made the alliance, Dallion said to himself. He was putting a lot of faith in a person who was scheming, addicted to Moonstones, and with questionable beliefs. And still, he had a lot of knowledge that Dallion could use. In the end, this is what it came to: everyone was using everyone; the question was who would gain the bigger advantage.

“Working with Tiallia and Jeremy,” Dallion said.

“Trust me, it beats the alternative.”

“And what do I have to do in exchange?”

Anger emanated from the archbishop. Clearly, he was a lot worse at controlling his emotions in his current state.

“I must be able to see some of the details,” he replied without directly answering the question. “Also, I’ll need one to heal you. You could use it in theory as well, but you won’t be as efficient.”

“Alright,” Dallion agreed. In his mind, he had gone over his options dozens of times. “One more thing, though. You’ll tell me everything before we go.”

“I can talk while I heal.”

“And if there’s a face to face, I’m not going alone.”

“It’s a bad idea. Anyone you bring will put you at risk.”

“I trust them more than you,” Dallion said in a firm tone. Then he removed his limiting ring.

Aqui, he said within his realm. I’ll need you to bring me the Moonstones. Giaccia will give them—

No! The dragon cut him off. I’m not going in the same realm as him.

Aqui, it’ll be okay. I’ll be here and—

No! she said adamantly. He bred us for our hearts! I’m not going anywhere near!

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

If there was any way for Dallion’s opinion of Simon to get any lower, he couldn’t think of it right now. The archbishop really acted as if everything was a game. It was all very calculated, refined for efficiency, and with complete disregard for the beings involved. No wonder he spent all of his existence alone on his island, separated from the rest of the world. At a certain level, he knew the consequences of what he was doing and yet felt obliged to keep doing it.

Veil, you bring them, Dallion ordered.

Are you sure? There’s no telling what he’ll do with them.

I know exactly what he’ll do with them. We made a deal, so bring them. Oh, and don’t take the cyan one.

Sure, Dal. There was not a single note of enthusiasm in Veil’s voice.

A few seconds later, the aether sphere dissolved into nothing, bringing Dallion and the archbishop into view again. The number of troops surrounding the area had doubled, all eagerly awaiting the command to attack. Such a command never came. Instead, Dallion floated back down to his room, accompanied by the archbishop.

When Veil appeared, handing over the Moonstones to Dallion, who in turn gave them to Simon, the healing began.

Under the watchful eye of Euryale and Pan, the archbishop removed one by one the permanent effects covering Dallion’s body. The magic spell he used was unlike anything Dallion had seen—“more divine than spell” as Adzorg put it.

As each wound was burned out of existence, leaving smooth skin behind, a green rectangle flashed, informing Dallion of the result. And during the entire time, Simon explained the intricacies of the plan. For safety and security reasons, a bubble of silence had been cast around the room, maintained by none other than Pan. The copyette trusted the archbishop as much as Dallion, still maintaining hundreds of magic symbols all over his body.

After close to an hour, all the bleeding wounds had been removed from Dallion’s body. Now it was time to restore his feet.

“I’ll need you to hold him down for this,” Simon told Euryale.

“It will hurt, I take it,” Dallion said, preparing himself mentally.

“It will if you want it done in a minute.”

Dallion didn’t, but he also didn’t want to delay. A minute in intense pain. For an awakened, that sounded like an eternity. Hopefully, Simon was using a metaphor and it wasn’t actually going to take a full minute.

“Pan,” Dallion said as he lay down on the bed so that the stumps of his legs were beyond the end. “Did you go through this when you tried to conquer the world?”

“The leg healing bit? No.” The copyette responded with a touch of humor. “The other stuff… at this point, I can say I did.”

“You can only tell someone who already knows,” Dallion said reflectively. “How come you could tell me?” He raised his head, looking at Simon.

“I didn’t vow not to.” The archbishop was rubbing his hands, covering them in a pale green glow. “Unlike him, I never tried to take over the world.” He took a step closer to the bed. “You better get ready now.”

The pain came in waves. The first few seconds there was almost none at all. Yet as time went by, it kept building up more and more until soon it was more than Dallion could bear. Concentrating, he tried to use his music skills to negate the effects of the pain, or at the very least, decrease them. That lasted for possibly ten seconds more, when his body reflexively made an attempt to break free. It was only Euryale that kept him from succeeding. The gorgon held his hands firmly pinned to the bed, while Simon pulled out, bit by bit, a new set of feet from Dallion’s legs.

Half of Dallion’s body had gone completely limp and unresponsive, yet the pain felt as if someone was stretching every muscle, nerve, and tendon in his legs far beyond their breaking point. The only thing preventing him from yelling for the archbishop to stop was the burning desire not to give him the satisfaction. Sweat covered his entire body. Magic threads emerged from his pores in an attempt to create a protective mesh over his skin.

The pain seemed to last for hours, simultaneously knocking Dallion out and forcing him into consciousness again. Finally, he felt a slight decrease. It wasn’t much, but a sure sign that his suffering had peaked.

“There you go.” Simon wiped the sweat from his forehead. Clearly, he had also exerted himself. Even so, he seemed in a markedly better state. If nothing else, the bags beneath his eyes were gone. “Rest a bit. I’ll send my offer to Jeremy.”

“Not Tiallia?” Dallion asked through gritted teeth.

“Tiallia has already accepted. I suppose having her sister helped.”

“Wait! Tell me—” Dallion tried to voice the question, but his stamina had reached its limits. Once his body realized it wasn’t fighting for its survival, his consciousness shut down. After what seemed like a second, Dallion woke up.

Looking up he saw a star-filled night sky. Panic set in, along with the fear that Simon had gone to the meeting without him.

“Eury!” Dallion jumped to his feet. “Pan! Who left…” his words trailed off.

There was a person in the room. Funny that it was only now that Dallion noticed. The person was a dryad, standing at the window, looking outside.

“Vihrogon?” Dallion asked.

“Close.” The dryad turned around. It didn’t take Dallion more than a second to figure out who it was.

“Felygn,” he whispered. “I thought it was strange that the room was removed again. How long was I out?”

“Eleven seconds, give or take. Simon did a number on you. After your latest bout of recklessness, you deserved it, though.”

“Everyone’s a critic.” Dallion shifted the weight on his legs. His feet felt normal and completely pain-free. Given that it was a dream, there was no other way for it to be. “Was he right?”

“Is that what you want to ask me?”

“Will you answer if I do?”

The Green Moon laughed.

“You’re learning.”

The room suddenly shifted. Dallion didn’t notice it happening, yet he knew the difference between where he had been a moment ago and where he was now. The present room was identical to his university dorm, at least as far as he could remember. The only thing that remained the same was Felygn, who stood at the window in his dryad form.

“This brings back memories, doesn’t it?” the Moon asked.

“I’ve never known you to be sentimental.”

“Who said I can’t be? Don’t worry, you’re not in any trouble as far as we are concerned. I just thought I’d take this chance to have a few words with you. There’s no telling whether I might have another.”

“So, things are that bad?”

“Only one can own the world. There’s no telling if that someone would be you.”

A farewell from a Moon. It was the last thing Dallion expected, but he appreciated the gestures. His opinion and relationship with the Moons had gone through many stages. Initially there was awe, then fear, then annoyance that they let mass-scale pain and suffering happen before their eyes. Now, he felt them distantly close in a way that words could barely describe.

“Thanks for bringing my race back,” Felygn said. “I appreciate it.”

“You know I didn’t do it for you.”

“I know. But you also did it for them. Many were given an opportunity, but you’re the only one who not only tried, but did it. For that, I’ll give you a final boon.”

“Isn’t it a bit late for that?”

“Maybe. But no matter what, I’ll always be with you as long as you call.”

“What does—” The scene disappeared. Instantly, Dallion opened his eyes, lurching his upper body upwards.

He was back in his bedroom with Euryale sitting on the bed next to him.

“Don’t rush,” she said, gently caressing his cheek. “You can rest a bit longer.”

Dallion smiled, relaxing back down. Yes, he had a bit longer. Yet deep inside, he feared that he’d never see Felygn again, not as a friend in any event.