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Lyn Rivers, the Destroyer, sat in tense silence as she waited for Thomas – the Knowledge hero who had just committed himself to her cause – to unveil whatever hidden learning he had unearthed in the Ruins of Elent.
Thomas let out a shaking breath, “I read a passage. A prophecy. One written by a prominent Elenthian researcher. Quote, ‘In the age where the heroes vanquish the Destroyer, whatever form it may have taken, a new vessel will rise. Thus, the cycle will continue endlessly, until all are combined.’ We know, now, that a Destroyer when killed does come back in a new form…you’re living proof.”
Lyn swallowed, guessing at the meaning of the last bit. “Until all are combined…the cycle will continue until I consume every hero core.”
Thomas nodded his head slowly, “That’s what I’d guess. I didn’t know it could happen, since it hadn’t happened before. There was never a record that I came across where the heroes had ever won, except for Raevan’s defeat. The first Destroyer. The literal deity of destruction, counterpart of Aelor the Creator. And the heroes that did slay Raevan all died of various causes before the new Destroyer, the Demonic Dragon, rose to power. And, well, that thing went undefeated until you.”
A rush of emotions went through Lyn. She knew how to extract a mana core from a living person; she had seen Misty do it when they had stopped a madman together. It left him a shell of who he once was; no mind…just an empty husk that barely survived and required explicit commands. Less than an animal. “I can’t extract the other hero’s mana cores…I can’t do that do them.”
Thomas nodded, having been at the same event Lyn was thinking of, “I know. There must be something I missed. Some…hidden room, or chamber, or…something that gives more information. But I left before I could explore that place fully. So many years, and so much left to uncover. Especially the main complex.” He shook his head, “I mean, I cleared out the first five stories, but the basement levels were sealed off. I didn’t have nearly enough mana to use the inscriptions that would have opened it up…you might.”
Lyn tented her fingers and stared at them. Well, we have to go there soon anyways to keep Cecily from getting this soul/consciousness transfer spell Thomas used. “We need to wait a little bit longer,” she replied. “I should hear back about Trisk very, very soon. My Diplomat’s last report brought good news in her efforts to arrange a preliminary understanding, and vassalization of their kingdom under my rule seems plausible.” She smiled and met Thomas’ gaze, “Especially since we now have even more heroes in the fold.”
“Right,” Thomas said leaning back in the chair. “Just make sure that you and I going to the ruins is on your priority list.”
Plus, I can stop by Misty along the way. The Mage hero, her best friend, had not reached out to contact her at all since their last short conversation. I should talk to her in person. Lyn began to stand up, but Thomas grabbed her arm, “Yes?”
“One more thing,” Thomas muttered. Lyn sat back down and saw the emotion welling up in the man. “I want your help killing James.”
“What? Why?! I thought you two were tight. Best buds!” Lyn couldn’t believe the words Thomas had just uttered. The two were not the closest friends pre-summon, but after arriving they really stuck together.
“James killed Hector…”
“Who?”
Thomas looked away for a moment as he wiped his face with a kerchief. “My…best friend. My wyvern. I raised him. Flew on him…he kept my mind off the past.”
Oh fuck. James killed his emotional support animal?! That sick fuck! Lyn had never held a love for James, and the fact he had stolen credit for the blow that killed the Demonic Dragon had soured her view of him even more. Seeing the sorrow that washed over Thomas as the tears came forth brought out a hatred for the Paragon hero she didn’t know she had in her. Even more oddly, she felt a protective instinct wash over her. Almost unconsciously, she got up and grabbed Thomas, pulling him into her embrace and silently reassuring him. The fuck am I doing?
Thomas wept in her grasp, and she just let this…nurturing instinct guide her to continue the reassurances. Makes sense in a way, she thought, since Raevan felt compassion enough to save the whole Ari race from destruction. Maybe maternal instinct comes along with being the Destroyer.
The Knowledge hero composed himself a few minutes later and looked up at Lyn. “Thank you…I’m good.” He pulled himself back and Lyn sat back down. Thomas gulped and stared at her with a resolve she had only seen in the most battle-hardened veterans who were prepared to die on the field of combat. “I need to pay him back for what he did.”
Lyn nodded, “I’ll help you get whatever revenge you want,” she replied.
“Thanks. I’ll…I’ll see you later. I need some time…When I’m good, I’ll find one of your council people and start helping.” Thomas put his head onto his arms and sagged into the tabletop, sobbing silently.
Lyn left the audience hall and was silently followed by her bodyguards, Gael and Vael. She trod through the conclave hidden within the citadel at the center of Lynhold, arrived at her chambers, went in alone, and flopped onto the bed.
She looked at herself in the mirror on the ceiling. What are you doing? She asked herself.
She wanted to rule Ghomar. She wanted an empire. She wanted a land where everyone was treated equally, had the same opportunities for advancement, and where everyone was treated justly. But…realistically…that would be extremely difficult to accomplish, let alone ensure was happening across Ghomar. She couldn’t be everywhere at once.
And she would have to rely on her allies and those she appointed to run things on her behalf. I have to keep Thomas on my side. He can provide so much that no one else could. If killing James is the price for Thomas’ help…well, I’ll consume his core and send him along his way. The taboo of consuming another person’s mana core had vanished for her, at least when it came to the Hero cores; since she knew they could either come back on Ghomar in some way or go back to Earth as they were promised on their first summon.
She looked over at the ornate perch and platform that Whisperwing, her intelligent raven, was sleeping on. I should see if Rashanna sent word yet. She slowly stood up, being quiet as to not wake her feathered companion, and left her room.
Rashanna was her Diplomat and tasked with arranging a meeting between Lyn and King Skir of Trisk. Lyn had already acknowledged that she would have to make some concessions to the strictures and laws she wanted to put in place, but once a few decades had passed, she could implement larger scale changes. Play the long game, she thought, knowing that she could practically live forever due to the internal regeneration spell that only the Destroyer core could use.
Once Trisk was in the fold, she could fortify the Flontar River, and utilize Trisk’s military to man castles along the coastline, and the large walls she would erect, just as she had done for The Rill. After Trisk…she could examine the situation developing in the South.
Khrelardia, ruled by James Marshal, the Paragon hero, and Valagonia, ruled by Cecily Valagonia, the Ruler hero, were on the brink of war. From the recent report she had received, Valagonia had some provinces and duchies that were fomenting dissent. Khrelardia had already sent her a statement of non-aggression to Lyn’s empire – but it was likely that they were gearing up for war with Valagonia. The two nations were destined for conflict, as Cecily and James had bad blood.
I can just bide my time, make alliances here and there, and then swoop in and take out the winner while they are weakened. She grinned as she ascended the tower where Finala, Keeper of Ravens was located. “Any news from Rashanna?” she asked the woman.
Finala turned to her from tending a few hatchlings, feeding them scraps of ripped-up meat. “No, My Lady. Melody – her raven – is due any day now for the second report. I will bring you news as soon as I have it.”
Lyn nodded and went to the nearby balcony, looking down upon Lynhold. The town was developed in an orderly and excellent manner. A large lake stood on the outskirts of the town, and a river led off to a triple-fork which led to larger lakes, which then fed the rivers that went under the mountains and left the Valley.
There were two buildings that stood out to her as relatively new additions. An enormous, three-story hospital where Trisha Baxter, the Healer hero, had set up her medical school, and on the opposite side of Lynhold, near the soldiers’ barracks and training grounds, was a large, single-story building that looked akin to a Viking longhouse. Ben Baxter, the Guardian hero, had set up his boxing and bodyguard school there.
She leaned on the railing and smiled. Everything is going according to plan, she thought. They had been upset at learning about Volio’s death at her hands – the Archer hero who had tried to manipulate her mind – but ultimately, they seemed to understand. Using mind magic to bind someone’s mind to your own was a fucked-up thing to do, one of the biggest taboos that one could commit. That bought her a lot of latitude from the other heroes.
That, and none of them were real friends with Volio. Especially after the Demonic Dragon was slain, and they went their separate ways. He was a loner. A stranger in a strange land. Apparently, his obsession with Lyn post-Demonic Dragon defeat were enough to chafe at and abrade away the good-will he had with the other heroes. That and his general, creepy factor that he exuded. Good riddance, she thought.
She jumped on the rail and leapt off, the cloak ingrained into her armor billowing out and slowing her descent as she landed. Hearing a caw, she glanced up as Whisperwing landed on her horn, “Hi! Oh, my gosh! I slept sooo well. It’s nice and quiet in your room!”
Lyn reached up and scratched the bird’s head, “Yeah?”
“Oh, my, yes! It’s just so, so loud with the rest of the ravens. They can be so chatty at night.”
Lyn chuckled and made her way into town. She had designed the ‘awakening’ spell for her raven companion to give it a distinct personality. The enthusiasm of a Golden Retriever, and the attitude of a Husky. And it worked, as Whisperwing kept chatting away about random visual elements of their small jaunt interspersed with small gaps for Lyn to provide commentary which was then complemented upon. It was a nice change of pace in conversation that Lyn didn’t realize she had craved. A yes-man. The Iago to her Jaffar.
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Duskari and Newen that she passed by would bow or dip their heads in reverence, and Lyn loved the attention. It feels good having this level of respect. The type of respect I would have had if I had been given credit for defeating the Demonic Dragon. But that was a secret she had to keep to herself. Only she, the heroes, Gael, Vael, and Bolvon knew the truth of Lyn’s first summoning; that she was the Scout hero that killed the Demonic Dragon and returned from Earth with its powers. In a turn of events she could never have anticipated, the memory-altering, world-encompassing spell the other heroes had used after her death had turned Lyn’s prior existence into a blur. Even if anyone did tell other people…they would have difficulty convincing them.
“Lady Rivers,” a Duskari scout ran up to her and bowed. “My Lady, a report from The Rill.” He pulled out a scroll and handed it to her. The Rill was one of the rivers that flowed out from the Valley of the Volcano which cut a course between Trisk and Valagonia.
She cracked the seal, unfurled it, and read it. Three thousand troops? Why? We haven’t taken any hostile action. She handed it back to the man, “Inform Marshal Remora and Admiral Naila.” Fucking plans going to shit already and it hasn’t even been a day.
The Duskari bowed, “By your will,” and ran off towards the barracks.
Lyn turned to the East, “Find Marshal Remora and deliver the news,” she told Whisperwing.
“Oh, okay!” The raven lifted off.
Lyn took a deep breath and cast an internal spell, "Gothron i gwanno / min enni / na rem in edin nin: / na nin togwath, athano hain thron, gwelu, throneth, a nîn rath; / na nin inath, cirad nin hoth; / na nin inedhil, athano nin thîr a cirad nin; / na nin rhaw, hathol han uin del."
Her muscles bulked up as the mana surged through her mana channels, her blood pumping harder as her vision sharpened, reaction time and reactivity improved, and every aspect of her physicality was amplified – her go-to, internal spell to augment combat capabilities. She pulled Cataclysm, her artifact blade, from the socket on her armored hip, willed it to transform into a bow configuration, and reached into her storage choker to draw an arrow. Pulling back, she let fly towards the mountain wall. Counting with the tap of her foot, she timed out when the arrow would impact.
"Adhano na phain nin galu." She teleported, swapping places with the arrow. She stood atop the two and a half mile tall mountains ringing the Valley of the Volcano. Looking down, she relied on her enhanced vision to scour the landscape. Spotting the encroaching army was not difficult. A force was approaching from the South of The Rill, and had come to a stop, arraying themselves before the fortress that stood on the large river. They have no siege equipment. What were they hoping to accomplish?
She smiled and drew back another arrow, letting loose and teleporting once it impacted the top of the ramparts of the fortress below. Several Newen were standing at the ready, the serpent-folk armed with shortbows, arrows, and extra quivers stacked high along the crenellations. Duskari squads were inside the gates leading out to Valagonia’s side of the river, a small detachment of Sloren ram-riders were preparing their steeds in their heavy armor, and Ari marines were preparing longboats to sail out of the river gate. “Report,” Lyn ordered, directing her words to the Duskari on the wall.
The squadron leader saluted her with fist to his chest, fingers curled in like one of her draconic claws. “My Lady, they have just arrived. No exchanges have occurred. What are your orders?”
Lyn smirked, “Let me investigate.” She pulled back the blazing bowstring once more and let loose, teleporting to the middle of the ground between the walls and the army. She switched Cataclysm to its Greatsword form and poured her mana into the blade. It ignited with neon-blue lava, swirling with water, wind, lightning, rocks, miasmic poison, shadowy tendrils, and shifting hues of golden light. She switched her language to Shereldian – the language of Valagonia. “I am Lyn Rivers, the Destroyer!” Her tone was that of the Demonic Dragon, echoing out across the possible battlefield in an intimidating, growling roar. “I will ruin any who attempts to harm my people.”
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The men around Vinic exchanged whispers and mutters at the sudden appearance of a Duskari described in the reports, wielding a blade of oscillating, pure mana cascading with several elements. We don’t stand a chance, Vinic thought as he turned his mount around and signaled to the few sergeants that had accompanied him.
Vinic Lancet was the child of nobility, a knight of Ishtok, the duchy of Valagonia that bordered The Rill. He had been charged by Cecily Valagonia herself to hunt down the Ari people, who he had learned fled the Arin Isle, sailing upriver. When he arrived at one of the river crossings that provided trade paths between Trisk and Valagonia, he found walled fortifications that had been erected for miles in either direction on the North side of the river. His contingent of soldiers had continued, following the non-fortified, Valagonian side, until they had come upon an enormous citadel, built astride the river itself. One gate stood firmly on Valagonian territory.
With walls manned by Duskari, Newen, Ari, and Sloren. Fucking non-Humans, Vinic thought with venom as he stared daggers at the Duskari woman who had taken his hand. He still felt the phantom appendage as he tried to grip his steed’s reins and cursed her under his breath. He watched as two of the sergeants rode out, pulling up a few dozen feet from the woman. “Parlay,” they said in Shereldian – the language of Valagonia.
The Duskari woman lowered her blade, and the deep, draconic tone switched to the honeyed, sweet voice he had heard before. The one that let him live in exchange for his hand and conveying a message to Princess Cecily. “There is no parlay. Only death.” She spoke in his language, and that disgusted him. That a vile Duskari was speaking his language. She raised her blade and carved through both men and their horses with a single flick of her weapon.
The men around Vinic yelled in outrage and began to charge, but he stayed back – and his personal contingent did the same. The armored woman placed her blade point-down, and it sank slightly as she leaned her weight on it. The mana fluctuated and stabilized as it connected with the ground, and the steeds skittered slightly as the ground began to quake near her as twisting streams of raw energy erupted from the ground in small geysers. The charge wavered slightly but continued forward.
For the second time in his life, he felt helpless outrage. This person before him could obliterate him in a moment, and nothing at his disposal could hurt her. He signaled to his men to retreat.
“Sir,” one of the sergeants whispered to him, “We can’t let this lone Duskari scare us off!”
Vinic looked at the man with sympathy, “Don’t fight her. You will die. And anyone who fights her will die.” He shook his head and watched as the chaos unfolded.
The ground between the charging forces and the fortress had cracked and split asunder, forming a large chasm with jagged, stone spikes at the bottom. A ten-foot-wide walkway was raised and led from the front of his host to the fortress entrance. The Duskari woman stood in the center of the new path, cascading flickers of blue energy flicking from her body as the mana of her spell dissipated into the air.
Men screamed and horses neighed out as they fell into the chasm, landing with sickening crunch noises as they died on impact from the drop. Many were impaled, and Vinic winced as he heard the loud shlick of pierced flesh and armor. The group that was lucky enough to be on the central spur of land lived for a few seconds longer. But only a few seconds, as the Duskari woman charged forward and carved her way through them, swinging her long blade left and right. An unstoppable, inexorable force of destruction and ruin. The few that turned to run were cut down.
He looked at his men, ripping his own eyes away from the carnage. Their faces told Vinic all he needed to know. They were terrified. Every one of them had just witnessed a spell on a scale unimaginable. A whole battlefield, altered and changed in moments. Almost as one, the group turned and went into a rout. Damnit. At least look orderly, he thought as he galloped through their ranks, heading straight toward the capital of Cecilaria far to the South. The Princess must be informed. Only a hero could take on this Duskari.
But…that also presented an opportunity. She can’t be everywhere at once. She’s just one Duskari bitch. After the men had regrouped a few miles away, he began issuing orders – they were to go across the bridges to the East and go into Trisk, leaving their colors and standards behind. I’m not returning without some Ari ears to show to her highness.
And an Ari was an Ari, whether they were under this bitch’s protection, or if they were from a rival kingdom to the North – who could tell the difference?
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Lawrence Powder, Shifter hero, sat on a large rock as James assailed him with questions. He held up his hand, putting a stop to the Paragon hero’s current inquiries. “The short answer is that yes, I was eaten alive. Thankfully, I fired off a quick shifting internal spell and turned into a turtle, so it didn’t really bite down on anything. Then…eventually…I exited the hard way.”
James’ face went white for a moment as he made a disgusted look, “That…why not come back to us after surviving?”
Lawrence kicked a rock with his foot, adjusting the scraps of clothing hanging off his body. “Why would I come back to you all? You all left me to die.” He felt some genuine sorrow, but the years of solitude had allowed him to process well enough. I’ve found my inner peace. Seems like you’re still conflicted as hell.
“It was flying off with you inside!” James shouted. “We couldn’t follow it!” He sounded angry. Perhaps at himself, Lawrence couldn’t really tell.
“Really?” Lawrence jumped off the rock spryly and paced around James, “You got here at the speed of light, flying from Kor’s Hold to get here, did you not?” James fumbled for words for a few moments, and Lawrence held his hand up again, “You had the ability to follow the dragon that fucking ate me, and you didn’t have the courtesy to follow it? To avenge me?”
“I didn’t know if it was working with the Demonic Dragon. We didn’t know if it was just a regular dragon or a true dragon.” He shook his head, “I couldn’t reveal my trump card in case it was an ally of our enemy.”
Lawrence sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, “Well, to answer the earlier question of ‘how did you turn into a dragon’, not only can I turn into anything that I take a bite out of…anything that eats me also counts.” He chuckled and shook his head, “Still was gross. A dragon’s digestive tract was not pleasant to experience. Why not come back? Simple. I had a new power to master. It took me two years to figure out how to turn into a dragon fully, and another six to master the size changing aspect of it. Plus, I got stuck for a year and went ‘feral’ until I snapped out of it. By then…I was already forgotten.” He smirked, “And it seems like a certain someone you made everyone forget about is equally as pissed off as I was.”
James nodded and put a hand on Lawrence’s shoulder, “I can’t fight Lyn on my ow-”
Lawrence slapped the hand away, “Fight her? Why? She just wants good shit.”
“She wants to take over the world!” Again, he became incensed.
“And what’s so wrong with that?” Lawrence sat back down on the rock and stared at James. “What is wrong with a single, powerful ruler who is making the world a better place?”
“The Destroyer is evil. It always has been. The Duskari have always been a cult that worships it and seek to destroy all of creation!”
“So, what, this is just some type of subversive way to that goal? Take over the world then destroy it?
“Yes!”
“What makes you so sure?”
James took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He was silent for several seconds before he let the breath out and made eye contact with Lawrence once more. “Aelor told me so.”
Lawrence sat up, feeling actual, genuine shock for the first time since his voluntary seclusion. “What? The Creator deity? But he’s dead. Shattered.”
“Yes.” James held his hand to his torso, “The consciousness of Aelor lingers, a tiny, whispering fragment, inside the Paragon core. When I come across a tough situation, it gives me advice. And this Destroyer is evil. I know that within my heart.” He stood at his full height and a confidence took over his tone, “We are the heroes, we kill the Destroyer and save the world.”
“But you killed the Demonic Dragon. The thing came back.”
James shook his head and held up his sword, “This must get the killing blow. There’s no other explanation. Since…Lyn actually killed it…it came back.”
Hmm…that kind of makes sense…but something’s off. “You’re hiding something. Be fully open with me, and I’ll consider helping you.” See if that shakes something loose.
James frowned and nodded tersely, “I…I have a family. I need to protect them. And I can’t take the chance that Lyn will take over the world and then turn on everyone and ruin it all.” He shook his head, “I can’t take that risk.”
“Fine. Let’s go.”
“W-what? Really?”
“Yes,” Lawrence replied as he mentally cast the shifting internal spell to turn into his full dragon size. The only hero that could cast spells by thought – as far as he knew – if they were shifting-related. “Come on, climb aboard. Let’s get back to Khrelardia.”
As James clambered on his back and nestled between two of his spines, Lawrence took off and soared up toward the clouds, beating his wings heavily to gain altitude. As he settled into a cruising height and just coasted, he thought of his different options. He had few, granted, due to his years in hermitage. For now, sticking with James is the smart play. Use his resources, get reacclimated to the world, and learn some of the going-ons of Ghomar abroad.
The whooping cry of excitement from his back brought a small chuckle to him. Fucking nerd, always wanting to ride a dragon. It’s not that impressive.