I sat on a stone, helmless, and exhausted. My memory of entering the cavern was hazy, glimmers of light and steel. When my mind had cleared, I was leaning against a wall of one of the shabby buildings of the port, parched and drained. One of the shield sisters, Arnja, stood vigil over me. When I had awakened, she had seen to my care, providing water and rations. She had been kind and patient with me, even as I questioned her if everything that had happened was real. That it hadn’t been some fitful dream my mind had concocted to stave off the tortured madness of my captivity.

“You are safe now, Sune Elgar,” she had said then, her smile both understanding and sad. “You’re not the first former prisoner who has thought that deliverance was a dream. Gods, we all thought that once. But he has a way of making dreams come true.”

She had said the words with such devotion and reverence that I found myself believing her utterly. My heart calmed, my mind entered a more peaceful state, and I just slumped back. It was over. I could go… home. Wherever that was.

And I could go back to Eir. Tree fend, she had been just a little girl when I had left to try and get us some coin. How… how long had it been? Would she even recognize me? Would she forgive me for staying away so long? I leaned back, chewing on those thoughts, excited to see her yet horrified of what she might think of me.

I chewed on those thoughts for a long time, long enough to see the sun beginning to rise.

“Sune,” Arnja said, gently poking me with the butt of her spear. “It’s time. You’re going to want to see this.”

Dumbly, I followed along, wandering to the beach where the god’s champions had the surviving pirates all in chains kneeling before them.

“What is this?” I asked, hatred putting some motion back in my mind.

“Justice,” Arnja answered, her fingers tightening on the grip of her spear.

The steely witch stood directly before the crowd. She had a scroll in her hands, her features ice-cold and harsh.

“Your sentence is thus,” she proclaimed, some power causing her words to roll across the shore. “Those of you who have raided the shores of Atrea and Silverwald shall be delivered to their respective courts, to face the justice you have temporarily evaded. Your stolen goods shall be returned, your ships given over to the wronged kingdoms.” Her features twitched, collected spite twisting them. “For those of you who have dared to raid the holdings of Valtrium, especially crews who were primarily slavers, you shall be brought to Valadonia to face a republic’s trial. And those who preyed on Merriwick,” something smug entered her voice, “shall also be brought to Valadonia to face true, free justice.”

I saw the despair and horror in the face of the pirates. Especially when some of the mages under the horned woman approached, opening portals to great and distant cities. The crews had already been divided and shackled together, taken away in groups to face their respective brands of punishment. I felt myself smiling, especially when I saw Vant and the other remnants of the Stalker being marched to Kilead. I had hated them for so, so long. But I had feared them as well, was terrified of them. I had been their prisoner, their captive, and I hadn’t been able to do anything about it. But when they had been put under the notice of someone more powerful than them, they slinked away to their fates with cathartic cowardice.

“Thank you,” I murmured, watching as the beach was cleared of the crews.

Arnja smiled. “C’mon, Uherion and Bergunn want to see you.”

I was led into the ugly alehouse that had been set up on this shanty town. I was led inside, where the woman and the giant were speaking frantically.

“You saw what he’s become,” the giant, Uherion, argued with crossed arms. “He doesn’t need us.”

“If anything, he needs us more than ever!” she snapped back. “He’s isolated himself, Uherion. Made himself more alone than ever before. He should come back to us.”

“As a god?” Uherion asked, one eyebrow raised. “Do you expect him to walk down the streets, living as a mortal man? Shall we give him his seat on the council back, so he can debate tax, trade and legality with us?”

“Yes!” she replied, exasperated. “We need to bring him home, before he becomes consumed in wars he can never escape. How long before he gets it into his head to think that he can save everyone?”

“Can’t he?” Uherion asked softly. “You saw what he fought, as well as the power he summoned to combat it. Is there anything he cannot defeat?”

“Plenty,” Bergunn whispered dangerously. “He has to stop somewhere, even he knew that. Otherwise our war would have spilled over into Merriwick after we had put down Mohandra! Maybe he won’t be our councillor again, but he could become the patron deity of the republic. Let him stand as a divine shield that legitimizes our newfound way of life. He could stand vigil over our people, ensuring peace for us in these critical stages.”

Arnja coughed into her hand, causing both figures to whirl on them.

“Sune Elgar, the paladin of Ca… Aurvandus,” Arnja declared, standing at attention.

Uherion grinned, though it was somewhat awkward. “Ah, yes. Come in, come in. My, uh, apologies for how I treated you before.”

“No need,” I replied, feeling sheepish. “It was well earned.”

Bergunn snorted a laugh. “At least this one recognizes his haste.”

Uherion chuckled. “Now, now Bergunn. You have no ground to stand on. I was there when we freed your mining camp, remember.”

Bergunn turned a deep crimson. “That’s not the same thing.”

“It is, and we both know it,” Uherion replied cheerfully. “But that’s not the point.” He turned back to face me. “Thank you, Sune, for your valour. For staying aboard that hell ship when you could have escaped far, far sooner. For helping to save him. You have the gratitude of the republic. If there is anything you need, ask it, and it will be done.”

“My sister,” I responded immediately. “I need to see her.”

“You will,” Bergunn responded, the red gone from her face. “Arnja has been the one primarily seeing to her care. With what you’ve done, I’m sure comfortable accommodations could be arranged for the two of you. That being said…”

“We’d like to extend you an offer,” Uherion finished, smiling despite Bergunn glaring daggers at him.

“An offer?” I asked, wary despite myself.

“Two, actually,” Bergunn went on, showing one last annoyed look at Uherion. “Firstly, that you become a citizen of Valtrium. This is completely optional, though your sister has already accepted. That being said, the second offer requires you to accept the first.”

“Join our forces,” Uherion said. “We’re a growing country, and we need strong sword arms. Especially those gifted with such unique armaments. We would offer you the knowledge and expertise required to hone your skills to a lethal level, and in return you would turn those talents to the defense of the republic. What do you say?”

“Yes,” I replied immediately, hoping something like this would be coming. I had never felt any particular national pride towards Atrea. The king and his court had never done anything for me, whereas the councillors of this new nation had saved me and my brethren from slavery and sacrifice without demanding a thing. “It would be my honor to accept both offers.”

Uherion smiled widely and clapped his massive hands together. “Excellent! Once we return, we can begin-”

The door suddenly opened, causing me to jump, and the red skinned witch walked in. Her expression was calm, yet she moved with what I could only assume was agitation. Despite my awe of her, I couldn’t help but glance at the monstrous scars and stitches running along her limbs and face.

“Yrsa,” Bergunn chided, “does knocking never occur to you?”

“No,” she replied matter-of-factly. “He wants to see us. All of us.”

Both Bergunn and Uherion stood up immediately, and I found myself joining an ever increasing group of the councillors and their cadres. We all returned to the depths of the mountain, passing through the now well-lit caverns back to the sacrificial chamber. It still made me shudder, even with all those eyeless things now dead. To think, that for a chance encounter, I would have been offered up to whatever thing those creatures worshipped, my soul forever lost to their darkness,

My nerves calmed as I saw the god standing near the back of the chamber, talking to that wondrous dragon that had saved us all from that terrible shadow. Its radiance was such that even the light of the morning sun seemed dim in comparison, its rays filling me with a sense of wonder and calm.

“Where will we go now?” the dragon, Syron, asked curiously.

“Where I will go,” the lord Aurvandus replied. “You are under no obligation to follow me, Starborn.”

Syron huffed out an amused breath, filling the cavern with warmth. “You claim as such, yet my freedom is owed to you, new god.”

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“There is no debt,” chided the saviour. “We fought together out of Muspelheim, and your aid was critical in banishing the Prince. If anything, I owe you now.”

The dragon laughed. It was a strangely beautiful sound, yet it still made my heart jump for all the power behind it. “There is no debt. You called upon me to aid in a worthy fight. And I still intend on being there when you descend.” Syron took notice of the approaching group, then bobbed his head. “We will have that conversation later, company has arrived.”

“Well, well, well!” Uherion boomed, arms outstretched. “To think you’ve outdone yourself on showboating yet again! First you come to us as a liberating kingslayer, and now you’ve returned as a dragon riding god!”

Aurvandus laughed, the sound oddly… mortal, despite the notes the mask gave it. “What can I say, Uherion? Politicking ill suited me, so I decided to find myself a promotion.”

Uherion snorted, but then a shadowy woman in a dark cloak stepped forwards.

“Wait,” she said, her tone hostile.

Aurvandus tilted his head. “Yes, Eudoxia?”

“We still have no definitive proof it’s really you,” Eudoxia said, hands resting on her knives. “Oh, you’ve made a good showing. But our leader vanished with barely a trace, last being seen at the titanic battle in Kilead. How are we to be sure that you are not some entity masquerading as the Liberator, attempting to take advantage of us?”

“What proof would you require?”

“Take off the mask,” the assassin said with false mildness. “Let us see your face.”

Rather than respond, the Aurvandus reached up and lowered his hood. He then tapped a finger against the back of his mask, causing the icy visage to vanish in a puff of light.

And I say the true face of my god.

He was fair skinned, with short silvery hair upon his head. His ears were slightly pointed, his eyes green as grass, a faint yet perpetual smile on his face. He appeared youthful, absent of any blemish or scar. At a first glance he almost appeared delicate and frail, but there was an energy in his gaze that quickly disabused me of the notion. There was such passion in him, something that was only barely masked by his casual expression. Yet for all his energy and strength, there was something… sad about him. I couldn’t place it exactly, but he seemed to be in a state of mourning.

All of the councillors around me had different reactions. Bergunn sucked in a breath, Frodan let loose a sigh of relief, Gamma simply nodded, Uherion laughed, Yrsa choked on what sounded like a sob, Diantha’s eyes narrowed, but Eudoxia remained silent.

“Is there any glamour?” she asked, looking to Diantha and Yrsa.

“None,” Yrsa managed, recomposing herself. “It is… it is truly him.”

Eudoxia nodded, relaxing her stance. “Apologies, Liberator. It was best to be certain.”

“No apologies needed,” Aurvandus said, nodding in understanding.

“With that out of the way,” Uherion said, stepping forwards, “why have you summoned us?”

The god smiled, almost mischievously. It was an expression that seemed all too familiar to him. “To bestow a gift.”

He waved his hand, and the wall behind him opened up to reveal a vast chamber full of treasure chests. Most of them were overflowing with gold and silver, whereas others contained fine works of art and jewelcrafting. My heart raced, seeing so much wealth just open on display. But my eyes noticed a glint, reflecting off the light of Syron, and I blinked.

“Are those, black crystals?” I asked, trying to peer at the spikes of it jutting out from the walls..

Frodan followed my gaze and sucked in a breath. “Those ain’t no crystals laddy. That’s… void stone.”

Aurvandus nodded. “Indeed. I hope this wealth will allow all of you to further see to your duties back in Valadonia. Our people are still relatively poor, last timed I checked.”

Diantha, the steel witch, seemed to be the most awed by the treasure. “We could pay our merchant fleets, raise new shipyards, finalize road construction, complete our urban development projects, allow our economic strength to flourish and so much more.”

“Nerd,” Uherion mumbled, grinning despite taking another elbow in the ribs from Bergunn.

“And… the void stone?” Frodan asked, narrowing a bushy eyebrow.

“My only request is that you use it wisely,” Aurvandus answered, passing a meaningful look over all of them. “And most certainly not for conquest.”

Diantha didn’t meet his gaze.

“Well, what are we waiting for?” Uherion laughed. “Let’s get this all packed up and teleport back home.”

“Actually,” Aurvandus said, smiling, “I had a different idea.”

I walked through the sanctuary of Valadonia, feeling restless. Bergunn and the others had departed almost a day ago, with no word of their return. I had tried to keep myself busy, to distract myself. It hadn’t been hard to achieve the former, but the latter was always just beyond reach. I helped around my temporary home, serving food, helping tend to the needs of the newly arrived or those who needed more time to adjust than I had. Then there were the hours I spent under Master Kurvin’s tutelage, relearning much of what mother had taught me before she had… passed.

I continued to busy myself, lest more memories overtake me.

It was late afternoon and I was assisting with lunch cleanup. Truth be told, I should have been back with the alchemist. But Bergunn would likely return here before anywhere else if she had news, and I didn’t want to miss any chance of news. It did mean more work, as the majority of the senior officials in the sanctuary were Bright Shields that had gone after my brother. But that didn’t matter. If anything, it motivated me more. I had been trapped for too long in that basement, shackled to a chair and unable to anything more than endure Halfor’s abuses. I needed to prove I could be something more than a damaged, mousey girl who needed help from everyone around her.

I had to.

Originally, I had no idea what I wanted to be. Survival seemed fitting enough an objective to achieve each day. But after Bergunn had told me of what Aurvandus had been and what he was now, I found myself discovering this brittle determination. If he had been as much the victim of abuse as any of us, yet still found the strength to lay the foundations for all of this, then surely the least I could do was learn how to do hard work. I had come to believe that through each day of working at my tasks, I was making myself more competent. That I could be someone… more, one day. It was a frail belief, barely even formed in my head. Yet it was both emboldening and comforting all at once, so I kept it as safe as I could amidst my own fears, doubts and scars.

I will prove that I was worth rescuing.

Just as I was wrapping up stacking some plates, the door to the sanctuary slammed open.I turned, suddenly hopeful, and froze when I noticed Arnja standing there. She was clad in gore stained armour, clearly damaged in places, but she had the widest smile on her face.

“Eir!” she said, delighted. “I thought I’d find you here.”

I rushed over to her, forgetting my tasks entirely. “Is he back? Are they all back?”

Her smile was warm and comforting, practically maternal. “Follow me, there’s something you should see.”

We practically ran down to the docks, followed by others workers of the sanctuary who had also been awaiting the return. I had no idea what to expect. Had the others returned via ship? If that was the case, had my brother been even closer than I imagined? Part of me feared some elaborate joke, that I was just dreaming and would soon awaken to find that they had all perished far away.

Yet we continued onwards, and I did not awaken. I was all too aware of how tired my legs felt, running down the cobbles, and how sore I was from working since near dawn. But my cautious excitement kept me going, powering through my exhaustion.

We reached the docks to find… nothing unusual. There was no massive crowd, cheering the victorious return of their leaders and heroes. There was no new ship, sailing in from the horizon. There was no gathering of people being celebrated down at any of the piers. As far as I could tell, it was just another day in the life of this newborn city.

That was when I saw it.

A line of light, splitting through air in the bay. I could tell that others had seen it as well, for gawkers were being drawn closer to get a better look, where arriving ships were quickly giving it a wide berth. I was about to ask if Arnja knew what it was, when the line exploded open.

And out flew the dragon.

It was a brilliant creature of starlight blue scales, with black webbed wings dotted with constellations. It flew up into the air, clearly radiant even under the noonday sun. It was immense, the largest living being I’d ever seen. Rows of fangs that glittered even from this distance, claws longer than I was tall, and rippling with muscle and power. Yet where many screamed or backed away in terror, I found myself transfixed. Though it hurt my eyes to look upon, the creature was the most beautiful thing I had seen in my life.

“People of Valadonia!” it roared, hovering in the air over a disc of light, its voice melodious and mighty all at once. “Your leaders are returned to you!”

The light burst, and suddenly, there was a fleet of ships sailing through the bay towards the docks. They were ugly ships, some with torn sails and battered hulls. Yet despite their harsh design and clear damage, they all flew the flags of Valtrium, with each vessel also having a banner belonging to one of the members of the council.

“Come on, girl,” Arnja said, smiling. “Let’s go meet your brother.”

I was pulled along by the woman in a daze, barely noticing the world around me. The fear of the people turning into awe and wonder. The way Arnja politely told people to fuck off as she lead me by the hand down towards the docks. The ever heightened sense of salt as we got closer and closer to the sea. The way the dragon began to make circles above the city, creating dazzling displays of light with every wingbeat. All I could see were vague memories of my last true family member, gone for so long, yet suddenly with the promise of return.

What if he’s not there? What if he died out at sea? What if this is just some elaborate trick, or I’m dreaming. Nothing this good has ever happened to me before, so why I should I accept that this is real?

Before I could become lost in such thoughts, Arnja gently tapped on my shoulder. Her smile was gently, her expression… I hadn’t seen that kind of expression since before my mother died.

“It’s okay, child,” she murmured, her firm hand on my shoulder anchoring me to the moment. “You’re safe. And you’re not alone.” She turned her head to the nearest ship. “He’s here.”

I watched in stunned yet sane silence as the black vessel approached the pier. My mind rapidly took in every detail, the bad condition of the hull, the tattered sails, the crew working aboard, the man leaning over the railing, the-

The man.

I knew him.

He was armoured, a little taller, older, gruffer, more… scarred. But despite the changes, I knew that face. It was one of the first I had ever seen.

“Sune,” I whispered. The sight of him, the recollection of more innocent, better days, lent a strength to me that I hadn’t previously known. I felt tears spill down my face as I felt myself smiling more widely than I had done in a long, long time. I shouted now, clear and true. “SUNE!”

I saw it when he recognized me. His face became a mask of utter shock, almost comical in its sheer surprise. But then it shifted into a broad, full smile.

“Eir!” he shouted back, laughing and waving.

His voice.

It was still his voice.

The moment the ship pulled up close along the pier, he threw himself over the railing and onto the stone. Within a second of righting himself, he was barelling down the pathway with such speed. Eir had only a moment to blink before she was caught in his embrace.

And she embraced him in return, just as fiercely. She could hear someone crying. Was it him, or her?

It didn’t matter. For the first time in as long as she could remember, she had family again.

I’m home, she thought, closing her eyes. I’m finally home.