Doomwing approached the final stop on his trip. Below him, the open plains and rugged hills had given way to the coast. An estuary filled with mangrove trees and brackish water lay below him, the twisted forms of the mangroves far taller and sturdier than they ought to be. Merfolk swam through the water, some heading out to sea whilst others went upriver.

The merfolk who lived in the lightless depths of the ocean could not survive for long in freshwater. However, their coastal kin were better able to handle the transition. Some could survive for days at a time in rivers, lakes, and streams. Others, however, were blessed with the ability to live freely in both freshwater and saltwater.

He had encountered his fair share of merfolk over the many years of his life. He had even spent time with them since he knew dozens of ways to breathe underwater using magic. After the debacle of the Third Catastrophe, he had endeavoured to shore up his weaknesses and had learned all he could from their tide mages and water weavers. They had been in no position to refuse, not after their involvement with that overgrown eel.

He glided closer to the surface of the sea and flew in a lazy circle around the titanic mangrove tree that stood sentry over the estuary, its proud roots forming great arches that spanned the mouth of the river whilst its branches cast shadows that spread for miles. The merfolk huddled amidst the roots, watching him with wary eyes. Many of them were children with all manner of trinkets clutched in their hands – pieces of coral, shells, and even scales from various aquatic creatures.

The dryad sitting with her legs dangling into the water and a merfolk child on either side stared up at him. Her skin was the colour of freshly cut mangrove wood, and her eyes were the blue-black of the deepest reaches of the sea. A floppy hat woven of dried seaweed sat upon her head, and her hair hung like kelp past her shoulders in varying shades of brown, yellow, and green.

"You are being obnoxious," she drawled. "And you are scaring the children."

Doomwing took a moment to make sure that there were no merfolk beneath him and then landed in the waters nearby. "You remain as eccentric as ever, Rhizophora. Are you not worried that I will attack?"

The dryad shrugged. "And if you attacked with your full strength, what could I do? I am not one of the First Daughters who might, at least for a time, stand against you. I am a Third Daughter – a great-granddaughter of Mother Tree. I was born at the beginning of the Sixth Age. Even on my best day, I could not beat you on your worst day."

"True."

"And you are no coward who strikes down helpless children and those who have not wronged you." Rhizophora smiled faintly. "Your temper may burn hot, for you are a dragon, but you are no butcher."

"There is that."

Doomwing looked down at the merfolk children. How easy it would be to slay them all. It would take scarcely a thought to stain these waters with their blood. There had been a time when the pain of Ragnar's death had still cut deep when he would have been tempted.

His friend had died as nobly as any dwarf could wish for, but he had died all the same. Doomwing had wanted him to live, to die an old dwarf in a gilded hall filled with his children and grandchildren. But Ragnar had died screaming his defiance, with no wife or children to speak of. They had perished before the final battle, their sky ship struck down by the Lord of Tides himself when he first emerged from the depths of the ocean.

Ragnar had lived, at least in body. But Doomwing had seen the grief clawing at his friend's soul, and he had known that Ragnar's heart had died alongside his wife and children. Only vengeance had kept him going. Yet at the end, Ragnar had forgone his chance at vengeance to buy Doomwing less than a heartbeat of time.

Doomwing had used that time well. Ragnar had been avenged, and Doomwing had screamed his hate and rage and sorrow into the very face of the Lord of Tides.

In the aftermath of the battle, he had looked upon the merfolk who had cast their lot in with his enemy, and he had been filled with wrath. The urge to strike them down, to boil the seas, and unleash runes of devastation upon them had been almost more than he could bear. Why should they live when his friend was dead? Why should they be allowed to return to their cities when Aurai was gone and the elves and dwarves who had sought the skies were no more?

But Dawnscale had stayed his hand. What choice had the merfolk really had? To defy the Lord of the Tides would have meant death for them all. There had been enough bloodshed. Let them slink back to their cities of coral and monolithic stone, let them grieve for the countless losses they had already taken.

In time, Doomwing came to understand that there was some truth to her words. Some of the merfolk had undoubtedly joined the Lord of Tides with great enthusiasm, revelling in the chance to drown the world and expand their domains. Others had looked with horror upon the devastation being wrought upon the surface, but they could not afford to rebel. They would have been slaughtered if they had tried.

That did not excuse them. A dragon would have preferred death than forced obedience. The First Age had shown that. His fellows had died in droves fighting the Broken God, but they had died rather than kneel. Merfolk were not dragons. Their hearts were not forged of sun fire. They were weak and fragile. They feared death where a dragon would instead fear a life of servitude.

And he had come to know them better in the years he spent with them. There were good merfolk amongst them, those who were worthy of his respect. His fury had cooled over the years, his wrath reserved now for his dead foe and any who sought to repeat his mistakes.

"You should smile," Rhizophora said. "It might soothe the children."

Doomwing smiled. The children wailed and hid their faces with the two beside the dryad clinging onto her and burying their faces into her sides.

"Or not. I had almost forgotten how toothy a dragon's smile is." Rhizophora sighed. "Fear not, children. Doomwing means you no harm. He is simply here to visit me. We are old friends, you see, or at least old acquaintances."

"I can sense your tree folk nearby. May I see them?" It was a courtesy. He could use magic to force them out into the open or to cancel their concealment, but there was no need to be rude when she had been accommodating so far.

Rhizophora smiled. "If you like."

Several mangrove trees stood up, and Doomwing tilted his head. They were not the largest tree folk he had ever seen, but their concealment had been excellent. From the looks of them, they could extend their roots and branches like great spears or shoot spines of hardened wood at more distant foes. Most intriguing, however, were the many, many, many toxins they were able to produce, some of which even he hadn't encountered before. How fascinating.

"You've adapted toxins from aquatic creatures and then combined them with plant toxins to create completely new varieties. Impressive." And he meant it. Too many dryads were content with minor improvements. To create entirely new toxins was no easy feat, especially for a dryad born in the Sixth Age.

"The seas are home to many interesting creatures, a great many of which are either venomous, poisonous, or sometimes both." Rhizophora waved around a fishing rod. "I also enjoy fishing although I have to be mindful, lest any of the children find themselves caught on my line." She smiled. "You'd be surprised by how many of them forget themselves when they see the bait I use."

"I can imagine." Doomwing could remember getting into trouble many times as a hatchling, quite often because of his desire to fill his belly. Young dragon grew swiftly, but that growth meant they were almost always hungry.

"You're here for plants and tree folk, I suppose." She sighed. "Anthracia told me you might be headed my way."

"Did she now?"

"Every now and then, one of her elves will get curious about the sea. It's not unusual for them to find their way here. I look after them, and they bring me gifts." Rhizophora smiled. "I love my mangroves, but there are not many flowers here."

Doomwing peered at the merfolk children. Now that he looked more closely, many of them held flowers in jars. She must grow them elsewhere, and the merfolk were bound to find them interesting since flowers of that kind did not grow underwater. "I am indeed here for certain plants and to ask if there are any tree folk that might wish to join me."

"Does your territory include mangroves?" she asked. "The tree folk here would not do well upon the plains or in the mountains."

"The southernmost part of my domain has access to the sea. There are mangroves there. I suspect it will be quite some time before the influence of the dryad I have obtained reaches that far, but I think she'll get there eventually. In the meantime, any tree folk I bring with me will be tasked with watching over that area and tending to the plants I hope to obtain from you."

"That seems reasonable enough, and a few of the younger tree folk are curious about new lands. I suspect at least a few will join you." Rhizophora shifted slightly as the merfolk children on either side of her slid back into the water. They swam toward Doomwing, curious but cautious. "I don't suppose you have anything you could give me in return?"

"As a matter of fact, I do." Doomwing produced a number of charms. "These are charms made from the feathers of a griffin. When used by merfolk, they allow merfolk to breathe on land as easily as in water." He produced another set of charms. "And these are charms made from the scales of a water salamander. When used by merfolk, they prevent merfolk from drying out on land."

"A most potent combination," Rhizophora said. "You know how fond I am of merfolk, and you brought charms that would allow the more curious amongst them to more freely explore dry land. Out of curiosity, how did you get a griffin's feathers?"

"The fool led his followers against me when I awakened for the first time after the Sixth Catastrophe. He thought me weak enough to be slain. I stripped them of their feathers and ate them for lunch. They coveted my hoard and wished to take my lands for themselves."

"Even half-dead, I find it difficult to imagine even a hundred griffins troubling you."

"There were fifty of them, and they paid for their temerity with their lives." He paused. "At least they tasted good."

"And the water salamander?"

"Nothing quite so troublesome. She was an ancient water salamander, and she had recently shed many of her scales. I offered her a slab of leviathan meat in exchange. She had several hatchlings, so she was eager to accept. Consuming the meat hastened their growth and increased their power." He gave a low rumble. "And I will admit to feeling a certain satisfaction in killing the leviathan. He was an old foe, one who escaped the fate he deserved at the end of the Third Age."

"I see." Rhizophora nodded. "Well, I agree to the exchange. I am quite pleased with what you've brought. By the way… I had a visitor recently. She is currently visiting the merfolk not far from here. They occupy a portion of the shelf before the long drop. I'm sure you'd find her interesting."

"Is that so?" Doomwing nodded. "Then I will seek her out." He was about to turn and swim out to deeper water when one of the merfolk children drifted over with a seaweed hat, not unlike the one Rhizophora wore. The child smiled and offered it up to him. "For me?"

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The merfolk child nodded. It was difficult for merfolk to speak out of water, but they had developed a sort of sign language to use instead. He was familiar with it from his dealings with them in the past, and it was amusing to see how little it had changed over the Ages. The child signed that it was for him and that he should take it as a sign of friendship, after all, if he was friends with Rhizophora, then he was their friend too. It was a childish way of thinking, but they were children.

The hat itself was no great treasure. He could easily have made a better one himself, but it was still a gift freely given, and he could barely remember the last time a child had given him a gift. Yes… it would have been Hikari. The young kitsune had once asked him when his birthday was. He had just given her a gift, and she had wanted to return the favour, especially since he had given her a gift each and every year. She had even gone so far as to say that she would make up for any birthdays she had missed.

Naturally, her enthusiasm had turned to absolute horror when she'd heard just how old he was. She'd thought he was joking, but Dreamsong had confirmed his age. Doomwing had just smiled toothily and reminded her that as a princess, she should always keep her word. She owed him a present for each year of his life. She had responded by trying to kick him – thankfully, Elerion had grabbed her before she could break her foot on his scales – and then proclaimed that her gift would be so awesome as to make up for all those years.

Her gift had been an illusion made solid – a fascinating display of her progress in the magical arts that the kitsune specialised in. He still had it, tucked safely away in his hoard, and he had very generously released Hikari from her oath. Naturally, he'd brought it up every single birthday thereafter, right up until things had taken a turn for the worse.

"Thank you," Doomwing said. "I shall add it to my hoard." And he would, albeit only after layering protective magic on it, so it wasn't destroyed by the raging heat of the volcano.

Swimming out to deeper water, Doomwing took a moment to cast magic that let him breathe underwater and then dove. He soon passed the reef where some of the merfolk made their homes in houses of living coral. They watched him go, cautious but not alarmed. Rhizophora must have sent word to them.

Deeper he went, and the beasts of the sea hurried to make way. As huge as he was, there were larger things in the sea than him, but few of them would have the audacity to challenge him. Only the very oldest of leviathans and krakens would dare, along with the great island-whales that dwelt on the bottom of the depths for centuries at a time, dreaming of the past and future.

Further down, in houses of black stone carved out of the great shelf that bordered the long descent into the lightless dark of the true deep, was the person he had been told about. It was easy to tell her apart from the blue-scaled merfolk. After all, just how often did a vampire choose to go into the sea?

He used magic to let them converse clearly despite the water, and the vampire turned as he approached. The merfolk hung back, curious but wary, all too aware of the ease with which he could crush them and their homes. Their leader, a shaman who wore an intricate necklace of enchanted seashells, came forward.

"You are known to us, great Doomwing." The merman inclined his head. "What brings you to our seas?"

"Curiosity." Doomwing nodded at the vampire. "I wish to know what a vampire is doing underwater." He bit back a chuckle. "I also wish to know just how long your preparations took."

The vampire before him was clearly an ancient vampire, yet even ancient vampires were not immune to the effects of living water. They were not completely immobilised or drained of their strength as lesser vampires were, but it was still far from pleasant. In order to go this deep beneath the sea without being harmed, this ancient was absolutely covered in protective charms, had donned plenty of protective clothing, and had several protective runes and spells in place. All of them were saturated with her power, which spoke volumes of her skill. There was also something vaguely familiar about her…

"Ah." Doomwing realised her identity. "You're that crazy vampire Marcus invited to live with him for a while. Faustina."

The vampire stared at him. She had the look of a demure beauty with dark hair, pale skin, and doe-like eyes. But the moment the words left his mouth, she snarled.

"That son of a bitch!" she hissed. "Is he ever going to get over that?"

"Your little experiment caused an explosion large enough to leave a crater two miles wide." Doomwing snickered. "Although I'm not surprised, given your alleged mastery of alchemy."

"There is nothing alleged about my mastery," Faustina snarled. "I have spent my entire life studying the secrets of alchemy. There is no vampire alive who knows more about it than me, and only a select few can claim to be my better."

Doomwing cleared his throat.

"Tch." Faustina huffed petulantly. "You are not that much better than me at alchemy. Besides, you hardly ever use it."

"Because I have an array of awesome powers, I rarely need to rely on alchemy, unlike you." Doomwing grinned. "I still remember the look on Marcus's face when he came back. That was his manor you were conducting experiments in. It was a miracle nobody was killed. Oh wait. It wasn't a miracle. I made sure nobody was killed because I'm awesome unlike you."

"…" Faustina made a face. "I told him I was sorry. It was way back in the Fifth Age too. Is he still not over it?"

"You could have offered to pay for it."

"I used all of my money on alchemical ingredients." Faustina shook her fist at him. "I was so close to creating sanguine-steel." She glared at him viciously. "And then you just had to go and make that stupid sword of his completely out of the stuff."

"I got sick of watching you fail. It was funny for a while, but then it just started to get sad." Doomwing laughed. "Have you worked out how to make it yet?"

"Yes," Faustina hissed. "It took me another five hundred years, but I worked out how to make it."

"I notice that you're not carrying any around with you," Doomwing pointed out.

"It turns out you need the scales of a primordial dragon to make the best quality sanguine-steel." She batted her eyelashes in what was probably supposed to be a beguiling manner. "So…?"

"Not happening. I actually like Marcus, which is why I made him his sword. I tolerate you, which is why you get nothing," Doomwing said. "Why are you even down here?"

"I am trying to make flow-steel." Faustina folded her arms across her chest. "It is a material that can alter its shape at will yet harden to take on the same physical properties as the very mightiest of metals. I have reason to believe that several of the key ingredients can be found here. I have purchased them and intend to try my luck at making it."

"You know, I could tell you…"

"Don't you dare!" Faustina shrieked. "There's no sense of accomplishment if you just tell me the answer!" She scowled. "Why are you here anyway? Are you here just to torment me?"

"Do you really think I'd go out of my way to torment you?" The flat look she gave him told him exactly what she thought. "If you must know, I'm running a few errands. However, I am curious… do you not know what's happening in the far north?"

"The far north?" Faustina shook her head. "Not a clue, and I don't really care. Apart from flow-steel, I'm also investigating a number of interesting materials that can only be crafted using components from this region. That dryad has been surprisingly accommodating in exchange for me making a few things for her."

"An umbral veil has formed in the far north. It covers several kingdoms' worth of land."

She stared at him in disbelief. "Bullshit."

He laughed. "Not at all. It was created when I killed a shadow dragon and dumped the body."

"…" She squinted at him. "Do you know how much of the body is left because there are a lot of things I could do with the body of a shadow dragon?"

"Since an umbral veil has formed, I would say the body has been consumed to create it. However, the area is currently being fought over by almost every ancient of reasonable power, including Marcus."

"An umbral veil, huh?" Faustina rubbed her chin. "I've never seen one before. The vampire homelands were destroyed before I was born. I would really like to study it…" She grinned craftily. "Do you think Marcus would give me free rein to study it and carry out my research if I helped him win?"

"You'd have to ask him." Doomwing managed to keep from cackling. This was exactly what he wanted. Ah… if only he could watch the chaos unfold when Faustina showed up. His criticisms aside, Faustina was one of the most brilliant alchemists he'd ever met. She was definitely the best vampire alchemist he'd ever met, and the only people he knew who were more skilled and knowledgeable were people like him who had Ages of extra experience to draw on.

"Hmm… the far north is pretty far, but if I leave right now and I use that thing I made…" She trailed off, muttering to herself incomprehensibly. She shook herself and then nodded to the merfolk shaman. "I'm afraid I'll be leaving a bit early."

The shaman, who had watched their exchange with amusement, laughed. "You have already settled payment with us. You may leave whenever you wish."

"Thanks." Faustina grinned. "If I help Marcus win, he'll have to reward me. I have been running low on funds lately, so I can get him to set up a research academy for me. I'll have my own minions, and I can probably badger him into coughing up regular funding. Heh. This solves all my problems." She nodded at Doomwing. "Thanks for telling me." Her eyes narrowed. "But what's in it for you?"

"Your eccentricity aside, you will be of great use to Marcus." Doomwing could probably finagle his mirror into letting him observe Marcus without the vampire knowing. Yes, with the right modifications, he should even be able to broadcast what the mirror saw to his location, so he wouldn't have to stay in his volcano all the time or bring his mirror with him. "That is reward enough for me."

"You big softie," Faustina said before she vanished in a sudden burst of magic.

The shaman blinked. "What just happened?"

"She used a teleportation charm. It brought her back to the surface not far from the mouth of the estuary." He sharpened his senses further. "And now she's transforming into a group of bats and flying north."

"Can vampires do that?" The shaman made a face. "I've only met two vampires, but that seems very strange."

"Different vampire lineages specialise in different things." Marcus's lineage specialised in illusions, mind control, and leadership. It was one of the reason he hadn't fallen prey to Kagami's pre-emptive strike. "Her particular lineage is known for shape-shifting, usually into bats, wolves, or other such animals."

"Interesting." The shaman stared at Doomwing. "Do you need anything from us? We'd be happy to help if you do."

Doomwing considered the question. He did have a few things he wouldn't mind picking up while he was here. "Actually…"