Rhea and Remuria rested inside a tent nestled in the heart of the Red Reaver camp. Remuria had only awakened a few minutes ago, her mind still haunted by the torment she endured as a shadow beast. With tender care, Rhea sought to console her, delicately running a makeshift brush through Remuria's silvery hair. crafted from a mysterious, charred wood.
"Feeling any better?" Rhea asked gently.
"I'd like to think so," Remuria replied with a soft chuckle, "but I never want to go through that ordeal again."
Rhea couldn't help but laugh in response. "I'm with you on that. It's definitely not a pleasant experience to turn into a monster."
Suddenly, Remuria's expression changed, her weariness evident. "We need to leave. Bringing you here was a mistake."
"It's not your fault," Rhea reassured, resting her head on Remuria's shoulder.
“I’m not so sure about that, I never planned for any of this.”
“Plans don’t always go as well as…planned, right?”
"Nothing ever goes as planned when it involves you," Remuria half-joked, tilting her head to look at Rhea. "Want to know why I brought you here in the first place? My original plan?"
"Enlighten me," Rhea teased.
"I wanted to introduce you to my father, have him acknowledge you in a more formal way, and then ask for his assistance once you proved yourself," Remuria explained with a heavy sigh.
Rhea smirked. "Well, technically, I did meet Vhael."
"I guess you're right," Remuria admitted, turning to rest her head on Rhea's lap.
"By the way, he mentioned that we should return to Ishgria as soon as possible," Rhea revealed.
"What did he say?" Remuria inquired.
"He mentioned something about Ishgria being no more."
Remuria raised a brow, "You’re awfully nonchalant about this."
“I just don’t know what he means exactly.” Rhea shrugged, part of her still wondered if Vhael was speaking metaphorically.
“I doubt my father is being hyperbolic, we need to go, now.”
Rhea frowned slightly, “fine, but can we stay like this for a few minutes longer? It’s been so long since I last saw you.”
“Of course.”
***
When Rhea and Remuria left their tent, Sedris was the first to meet them, “I hope you are in good health, princess, and you are?”
"Princess, I hope you are in good health," Sedris greeted cordially. His gaze then turned to Remuria, and he gracefully bowed. "And you…miss, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."
Remuria returned the greeting with a nod and a warm smile, “thank you,” she said, her eyes studying Sedris’s form. With his composed demeanor, he was not someone she expected would be a part of the Red Reavers.
"Thank you, Sedris. I appreciate your assistance," Rhea acknowledged as well.
Sedris nodded, his attention focusing solely on Rhea. "The deathbringer wishes to see you, princess, he emphasized its importance."
Rhea's brows furrowed slightly, her curiosity piqued. "I will see him. Where can I find him?"
"Just outside the camp, at the second entrance," Sedris explained, extending his finger to indicate east.
"Thank you, Sedris. I'll make my way there immediately," Rhea affirmed.
Before Rhea departed, Sedris hesitated for a moment, a thoughtful expression crossing his features. "Ah, princess, before you go..."
Intrigued, Rhea turned to Sedris, “yes?”
But Sedris stopped himself, he shook his head, a hint of regret flashing in his eyes. "Nevermind, apologies for distracting you," he bid Rhea and Remuria farewell before turning away.
Once Sedris had vanished from sight, Remuria turned to Rhea, her curiosity getting the better of her. "He is... rather well-mannered for a Red Reaver," she remarked, her voice laced with a touch of surprise. "It is rather jarring to see."
Rhea arched an eyebrow, "you're familiar with the Red Reavers?"
Remuria nodded, "yes, it is hard not to be familiar with them if you've spent a long enough time in the underworld. I was under the impression they were ruthless barbarians who only know of slaughter."
"They are that, yes. But Sedris has always seemed to me to be more nuanced than the rest of his kindred." Rhea said.
Remuria's lips curled into a wry smile. "I'll take note of that. Never thought I'd be working together with the Red Reavers, but I suppose we are in unusual times."
Venturing outside of the Red Reaver camp, Rhea and Remuria stepped onto the pale sands of the underworld. And eventually, their eyes fell upon the figure that awaited them in the desolate expanse. Vhael stood tall and unmoving, his draconic visage as emotionless as always.
"I am relieved to see you safe, my daughter, and you as well, princess," Vhael greeted.
"Likewise, father.” Remuria replied;
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Vhael waved off the gratitude with one of his pale hands, "it was a necessary task. Now, let us delve into why I have summoned both of you. As I mentioned earlier, once I transport you and the Red Reavers to the moon, your path will diverge from mine," he explained, "your objective will be to locate the gate and confront the dragon who guards it."
Rhea’s curiosity was pique, "tell us more about this dragon."
“His name is Krithosos the Immortal. Millenia ago, far before my exile to the underworld and even before the birth of some gods, he ruled over all life in the material realm.”
“Wait, father, is this not the same dragon from the bedtime stories you used to tell me when I was younger? Remuria asked.
Vhael nodded, “yes, daughter, and he is not to be underestimated. He had the power to rival even beings as powerful as the gods themselves.”
“Then why is he in the underworld now?”
“The same reason why many others fall, daughter: arrogance. He tried to challenge the authority of the gods, boasted that he could easily defeat them. Evidently, he failed, and was condemned to the crimson moon.” Vhael explained.
Rhea's voice carried a hint of uncertainty as she asked, "So, our task is to somehow persuade this dragon to grant us passage through the gate back to Ishgria?"
Vhael's response was direct, "That is correct. Alternatively, if negotiations fail, you may have no choice but to engage in combat with him."
Rhea couldn't help but notice the lack of confidence in Vhael's tone. "From what you imply, harbinger, it seems you harbor doubts about our chances of defeating this dragon."
Vhael's reply held a mixture of caution and concern. "To be perfectly honest, it will prove challenging. If you can find a way to reason with Krithosos, it would be far more preferable."
Rhea probed further, "Have you encountered the dragon before?"
"Yes, once, centuries ago, during my research on the crimson moon's gate," Vhael replied.
“And the dragon just let you mind your own business?”
“I managed to hide my presence from the dragon for a time, though not as long as I had hoped.”
“So I’m going to assume that the dragon would have proved a challenge had you been forced to face it?.” Rhea asked aloud.
“He’s a foe that I’d rather not fight, and one you should avoid as well if possible.”
“Do you think we have a chance, harbinger?”
“Perhaps, though you must be very careful when doing so.” Vhael warned.
“So what is our next course of action?”
“Gather the Red Reavers here, I shall transport you all to the crimson moon.”
***
Soon, Rhea gathered Remuria and the fierce Red Reavers, bringing them together at the location where Vhael awaited their arrival. Most of them, including Rhea, did not quite understand how Vhael was going to transport them to the crimson moon. Teleportation magic itself was nigh-unheard of both to denizens of the underworld and the mortals who live in the material plane. However, the Red Reavers were more than eager to leave the underworld behind, to go to a realm much more flush with life.
“This should be everybody.” Rhea said.
“I have checked, there is not a single soul left in the camp.” Sedris replied.
Rhea nodded, “I appreciate it, Sedris.”
“I’m curious to see how the deathbringer is going to take us to the crimson moon.”
Zia shrugged, “I don’t know and I don’t really care, going to the moon sounds fun enough I suppose.”
“My father will cast a spell.” Remuria said. Her silver hair flowed freely down her shoulders now, and she was clad in a practical gray hood and cloak, a departure from her usual attire back when she was in Ishgria. The Red Reavers, lacking sufficient garments to spare, had offered Remuria one of their spare cloaks which had yet to be embellished.
“My daughter is right, now if you will excuse me: I shall proceed.”
Vhaels stood amidst the hushed whispers and nervous shuffling of the large group gathered before him. As the silence thickened, Vhael's six pale arms began to move with graceful purpose. On each limb, profane runes and glyphs glowed with an unholy light, they were the marks of a master, symbols of forbidden knowledge.
With a deliberate motion, Vhael unfurled his wings, then closed his eyes. The air around him crackled with suppressed energy, and the group could feel a building pressure, a force ready to be unleashed.
In the moments that followed, a low chant, barely audible at first, escaped Vhael's mouth. The words echoed through the gathering, resonating with ancient power and arcane knowledge. The incantation wove a web of mystic energy, intertwining with the very essence of those present.
With one final, resolute syllable, Vhael thrust his arms forward, his voice reverberating through the very fabric of reality. The gathered crowd gasped as a blinding light erupted, a beacon of pure magic that engulfed them all. In that instant, Vhael's spell took hold, and the group felt a profound shifting sensation, as if their very beings were being torn away from their surroundings. And within seconds, they were gone.
“It is done.” Vhael said out loud.
"I must admit, harbinger, your attempts at interference amuse me to no end," a voice jeered from afar, carrying an unsettling echo.
Vhael turned to face the source of the taunting voice, his dragon skull visage betraying no emotion as he spoke, "prophet, I knew you to be a resilient creature, but this charade grows wearisome."
Standing tall, the prophet's blue robes billowed in the otherworldly breeze. The golden mask they wore bore numerous cracks and fractures, the unmistakable signs of damage from their previous encounter with Vhael.
"You are nothing more than a pawn, deathbringer, just like me," the prophet taunted, their mask radiating an ominous power, slowly piecing more of itself together as time passed.
"I am well aware of my ties to the underworld. I do not require your lectures on the matter," Vhael countered, refusing to be swayed by the prophet's words.
The prophet scoffed, "And yet, despite your knowledge, you persist in your attempts to thwart the will of the underworld. You continue to aid the Princess of Ishgria, hoping that she will find her way. But even you must acknowledge the futility of your efforts."
"I understand the schemes of the underworld, the grand design they seek to unfold. That is precisely why I must strive to stop it."
The prophet's mask cracked, forming a wicked smile. "But you cannot," they sneered. "The underworld may grant you limited freedoms, but you remain trapped within their grasp. Everything you have done has merely been within acceptable parameters. You are but a slave to darkness, deathbringer, and deep down, you know it."
Vhael's hollow gaze did not falter from the prophet, his voice filled with defiance. "And where is this leading, prophet? I highly doubt you came here solely to taunt me."
"I am here to inform you that you have outlived your usefulness. Once the Princess of Ishgria departs from the underworld, her path as the chosen one will be sealed."
"I have shattered Nemaia and pacified the Night Terror. When the princess departs, she shall no longer be tainted by the underworld's influence." Vhael declared, the runes on his six arms glowing with arcane energy.
The prophet's response was filled with mocking disdain. "You have merely delayed her transformation, harbinger. There will come a time when she will be forced to embrace her power, to save the one she loves. She will have no choice."
Vhael prepared himself, his hands already forming the intricate gestures of a spell. "I have heard enough," he stated firmly.
The prophet's golden visage seemed to brim with malevolence. "So have I."