Winter 4994, 22 Ginmoth

King Conar was new to the thrown, having succeeded his late father only five years previous. Descended from the blood of Saint Giorgos himself, Conar had learned statecraft at the old monarch's knee. Destined to serve. For the betterment of all humans.

The young King had naturally gray hair that he wore traditionally long under a simple steel crown. In his palace audience chamber, King Conar sat proud and tall on a plain thrown, listening patiently to his citizens' grievances. This close to the Winter Solstice it was mostly well-to-do merchants and their sponsoring nobles -bitching about trade regulations. It took a considerable amount of effort to make it seem like such mundane issues held his absolute interest. Especially since he'd had much more significant concerns laid on his plate in recent days.

He gave his verdict calmly, and though the noble and her small entourage were less than pleased, they still bowed respectfully and made to exit just as someone much more welcome entered. The Master Archmage of the Mages Guild swept in, the General of the Army of Saint Gorigos at his side. The King sighed, relaxing a fraction in his seat and taking a gamble when he greeted the Archmage informally, "Brother..."

Prince Corwin didn't return the smile, "Sire," and King Conar straightened once more. So it wasn't a pleasure visit. He should've known.

"You have news from Swailand?" he asked. The noble hesitated at the door, but the King made a gesture with his fingers, and the guards -Oathsworn Paladins of Saint Giorgos- escorted them out, closing the door before the council members answered.

"Yes and no, Sire," the General said.

The Prince sniffed, "Our agents returned to the Warlock tower but found its contents either removed or destroyed. We are excavating what we can from under the collapsed portion. Still, even that appears to have been cleared of any useful evidence."

"So we've hit a dead end." The King stated.

His brother nodded but added, "We are still working to translate the single tome retrieved, but that points to a greater, more widespread, problem."

The General cleared his throat, and the King nodded his permission. "With all due respect, your majesty, we should have pursued this seven years ago. When we first received news of Warlocks working across province lines."

King Conar tapped the arm of his thrown, a minor show of great frustration. "Father thought to give the provinces their sovereignty in this issue," He met his brother's eyes, noble gray, exactly like his own, and received a nod of approval, though not for their late father's actions. The two of them had spoken extensively after the incident in Swailand.

"Warlocks pose a threat to the kingdom as a whole and should be dealt with as such. Especially now that we have solid proof of their practices. There is evidence that they have spread like a plague across the kingdom. Their goals in particular..." The Master Archmage let those goals go unstated.

The three men of Saint Giorgos, Dragon Slayer, Savior of Men, nodded in unified understanding.

"Summon the council." The King announced, "We will not permit the existence of Warlocks in our kingdom."

"Sire," The General saluted sharply, and the Prince bowed. They took their leave but would meet again with the rest of the kingdom council to settle on a plan of action.

***

"We need more time..."

Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

"Soon, sister,"

Yonin and In'nin spoke in private, safe in the hidden caverns that were the Central Talon.

"The kingdom knows..."

"Not enough,"

"Enough to be a problem,"

"A problem we have faced before."

They clasped hands, In'nin's black onyx skin a stark contrast with Yonin's white marble. Together they chanted over the mirror that was the floor of this room until the glass seemed to disappear. No longer reflecting the ceiling's mirror or the Warlocks standing on it, the floor instead showed stars in a violet void that spread up the walls and into the ceiling mirror.

Indistinct shadows moved in the distance, and a voice whispered in their joined minds, My children have their Chosen...

Yonin took a shuddering breath and spoke out loud -though she need only think for their master to hear her here- "The temple outside time..."

Has yet to be completed. I grow impatient with their plan... And yours...

In'nin's stone skin tightened on his sisters, "We continue to make progress, master..."

Teeth as tall as the walls appeared out of the stars at their side, and when their master hissed, it caused them both to fall to their knees, though they didn't break the spell. Humans. This world was created for my children, by my children. And you destroyed them. Taking their divine essence for your own and claiming their place in the Heavenly planes. You have given my children the link they need to their world. But if neither you, nor they, can return it to balance, then I will unmake it.

Ryuugen, the embodiment of creation and destruction, father of the gods of dragons, broke their link to the Outer planes, returning the room to that of mirrors. Yonin and In'nin released their hands and rose once more.

Yonin's eyes, black voids in their sockets, searched her brother's face, "We can't stop. If the Chosen can't summon the temple..."

"Then it will be up to us." In'nin finished for her, "The experiments must continue. Contact the Talons and protect the Wyrms. We cannot lose any more of them."

"And the Chosen?" Yonin asked.

In'nin shook his head, "Are human by necessity. If they cannot help their gods, then we will do what we can."

"We have to bring back the dragons. Restore the balance..."

"Nothing else matters."

***

"I want a team." King Connar sat at the head of the leading members of the kingdom. Nearly every major organization had a representative on the senior council. He was flanked by his brother, the Master Archmage, the youngest in history, on one side, and the General of the Army of Saint Gorigos on the other. Beside them were the Generals of the Armies of Hengist and Horsa, and beside them were the heads of the Church of Soliel and Grove of Cathbad.

"A Paladin of Saint Giorgos will act as its head, and they will answer directly to me, to us." The King informed them, "Each of you will provide a representative. Sir Johnrik, Sir Bretna," He addressed the heads of the Temples of Hengist and Horsa directly, "This team needs to work as a cohesive unit. Neither of you will provide a Paladin or Cleric." The two Generals proved the wisdom of his decision by glaring at each other across the table, but both nodded in agreement.

King Connor inclined his head, "These Warlocks must be stopped. Before any of their experiments can harm any more of our citizens, or worse, bare fruit."

"And if they already have?" Prince Corwin asked.

The Head of the Church of Soliel bristled, "You have evidence that these people are anything more than victims? You would take the word of mad Warlocks of this?" She was the most companionate of the council members but wasn't the only one who'd voiced their opinions on these 'Wyrms' in the Warlock tome.

"Then we will deal with them as justly as we can." The King answered his brother, "You know my opinion on this Archmage. Until you have proof that these supposed 'successes' are such, and not merely the ravings of insane Warlocks..." He sighed. This wasn't the place, or group, for this discussion. He shouldn't have even mentioned the Warlock's goals. Spreading his fingers out on the table and speaking to all of them, the King assured them, "We will endanger no legal citizen on the word of a Warlock. Bring the woman in, quietly, and hold her in the Guild until we have more information."

"Sire," the Archmage conceded, bowing from his seat.

"The existence of Warlocks of any type is a threat to humanity the kingdom over. They cannot be allowed to exist." The King reiterated and stood, leaning over the table, "I expect to meet with each of your recommended members by the new year."

They would stop these madmen once and for all. The General of Saint Giorgos met the King's eyes and gave a single nod. The rest of the council might not understand the depth of the issue, but those descended from Giorgos knew... There was nothing more dangerous to humans than dragons. The Warlocks couldn't be allowed to succeed.

Nothing else mattered.