The Lizakh had been assigned to the left flank of the expedition, told loosely to follow the Lancers of the Baleful Court and the ogre delegation from the Nordawn Mountainous Region. They marched up a low slope to top a dusty ridge in the three-day window before the portal manifested. On the exposed hill, the wind forced D’min to clutch the thick cloak he’d been given tightly around his scaled body. They had moved away from the sea, but the wind remained a constant companion.

Finally, it is time to act, he thought tiredly. He meant it as a way of cheering himself up, but it just made him more depressed. His fingers tightened on the cloak. Right now, it was hard to imagine the group of ten Lizakh could do much to help Expira.

Of course, even the chilling wind was better than the waiting had been. After a day of long and grueling arguments that D’min didn’t really follow, the group gathered at that fort on the sea had finally received word regarding a Major Calamity Rift, which would give them the time for the entirety of the seven hundred strong expedition to proceed to the source of the Calamity.

Most of the arguments concerned how much additional support the various political organizations would give the Expedition, beyond what they already had. Specifically, King Phirun, who hosted the Expedition and along whose coast the Major Calamity Rift was appearing, asked for some additional forces to help clear the path and make their entrance easier.

With the exception of Zone 32, every other Zone denied the request. And went as far as to claim that sending additional manpower was impossible. What made matters worse was that from what D’min understood, Zone 32 didn’t have many troops to spare. So King Phirun had attacked Zone 1 and Zone 7, demanding they send some of their reserves.

The representative from Zone 1 had sneered. “Why not ask for help from Kharon?”

The three-headed ogre raised his head. His eyes flashed. “As I have said, I am here as an individual to help lead my people. My presence does not reflect on the policy of Kharon as a whole.”

“Ha, who could believe that Tatiana would willingly let go of her precious secretary? Are you trying to say you are here on a vacation?” Another representative had muttered. The ogre’s left head turned and glared, earning a gulp from the speaker.

But ultimately, the pleas fell on deaf ears. King Phirun had stormed out of the meeting room in a fury, but the Expedition members didn’t seem to mind at all. Considering the powerful auras that D’min was becoming increasingly adept at sensing, he could understand why they were confident no matter what.

However, the day had been even more disappointing for the Lizakh. Under the lead of Yn’ulk, they had tried to create relations with many of the other factions preparing themselves to set out. The Lancers looked at them when they approached but didn’t bother to vocally answer. The Ogres seemed uninterested in anything but listening to the stories of their leader, Wolfram, who D’min gathered had spent most of the last five years in this strange Kharon.

The humans looked like they were sucking on lemons when the Lizakh tried to make polite conversation, although most did try to make their distaste unobtrusive. At the end of that final day in that fort, the Lizakh warriors camped alone by a small fire, doing their best to ignore the laughter and comradery they heard from the other members of the expedition.

D’min looked up at the stars and felt profoundly alone.

The group finally made it to the top of the ridge. Following the Lancers, the Lizakh flowed down to the Southeast, making room for the human warriors of the Great Sea that followed them. There was another ridge between them and their destination, but the Greater Calamity Rift pulsed with gathering power that leaked over the obstruction and warned of its coming.

The Expedition leader Tosam signaled a six-hour break; they had plenty of time before the rift would open, after all. The various groups hunkered down for a short rest before they made their approach. Meanwhile, D’min stood slightly stunned, looking over at the bleeding light of the rift. He had never seen the source of the Calamity monsters up close. Behind him, Yn’ulk began leading the other Lizakh in a ritualistic prayer to the Patron of the Sun, a tradition before the battle.

Yet today… D’min walked away from the group. He still hadn’t managed to sort out his complicated feelings toward the absent Patron of the Sun. So he let his legs carry him forward, down a winding game trail from this ridge to the next, so he could get a better view of the Greater Calamity Rift.

He clambered up the rocky surface and looked out of the edge toward the light. Even though the lizardman had mentally prepared himself, he couldn’t help but gasp when he laid his eyes on the sigils that hung in the air. Below the ridge was a wide and dry basin that had likely been a lake long ago. Now, it was ambient light and energy that pooled in the space. The runic symbols had two dimensions. They laid in a circle on the ground and also ascended straight upward in a pillar in the middle of the circle.

Those on the ground were fully illuminated, but D’min could see that the pillar slowly gathered energy, growing higher and higher-

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“It is quite the sight, yes? A pity that such a beautiful arrangement is the cause of thousands of deaths on our planet…”

D’min blinked and turned. Unbeknownst to him, several individuals had climbed up the path to join him on the rugged face of the ridge. He instantly recognized the one who had spoken to him; it was the leader of the Expedition and representative of King Phirun, Tosam. The slender man offered D’min his hands. “I don’t believe we’ve been formally introduced. You are the group that Alana is championing, yes? The Lizads.”

“The Lizakh,” D’min corrected nervously. A strong gust of wind buffeted them as they regarded each other. But since this was the most recognition that his people had received, he didn’t take offense. He shook Tosam’s hand. Then his spine tingled as another recognizable figure stepped forward and offered his hand as well.

“I’m Glendel. You… have a very piercing sensitivity to images. I apologize if I briefly flared my image when I felt your observation; you took me by surprise” After shaking D’min’s hand, the ominously solemn Glendel rubbed the back of his neck. His eyes went to the rift. “...based on the energy, we have about nine hours until it opens up. I’ll begin gathering the souls for our assault.”

Tosam nodded as Glendel turned and left, toying with his seashell necklace. Compared to the other human warriors, he was less muscular. He only had a few, modestly colored tattoos that ran across his arms and back. So despite the fact he led the human group that would assault the rift, D’min felt that this Tosam was reasonable.

Even if he chose not to wear any covering, while the wind continued to suck away warmth.

Which was why, after Glendel had left, D’min cleared his throat. “May I ask you something?”

“Oh? Sure.” Tosam nodded and turned to him. For the first time, D’min noticed the almost frosty blue intensity of his eyes.

His thin tongue flicked out briefly as he gathered his thoughts. “We… my people have noticed that others are somewhat reserved in our conversations with us. But from what the Savior- Alana Donal, explained to us, we need to be accepted by the people of Expira. Do you find the way we look off-putting? Or-”

“Ha!” A new arrival’s laughter pulled D’min around. The Lizardman felt a flush of shame. For someone with a sharp perception, I am continually being surprised today…

This was the bald and thickly muscled man who always was bickering with the knife-wielding man back at the fort. Sensing D’min gaze, the man chuckled. “No one cares what you look like. Compared to the Ogres and some of the frog Lancers, you lizard people are a pretty welcome addition to the group. The problem is we thought you were all a bunch of religious nutjobs. Worse than the Frost Dragons. Your group dropped and began praying whenever you had the chance. But you are a little different, huh?”

D’min felt his heart tighten. Even beyond doing nothing for us… the Patron of the Sun is the reason they don’t want to speak to us? Perhaps Expira had some bad experiences with Patrons?

Ultimately, he nodded. “Yes. I am different from them.”

*****

Perhaps it was due to the blurring of the boundaries between states, but Randidly’s walk to Clarent seemed to stretch and meander. His presence wavered and flickered. He felt like his person had a strange sort of emotional ‘drag’ as he carried the black and the red gauntlets forward, charged with all of the intensity he could muster.

His very passage dug a furrow in the Aether of this place. His potency left Neveah’s working fizzling and trembling in his wake.

This much should still be fine. After a slight pause to inspect the damage gathering up so much emotion inflicted, Randidly resumed his approach.

He didn’t waste that extra time by trying to inject tranquility into his movements. He focused his mind and let the ripples spread out as they will; Neveah’s construction could withstand some abuse.

He dug deep into the actions of D’min, upping the desperation of his pleas. The Lizakh held Clarent and prayed even as black frost crept down his fingers and over his trembling wrists. He was still barred from experiencing temperature, but Randidly felt the sharp frigidity as he watched the swaying of that lonely figure on the black moor.

The layers of the world fluttered and suddenly Randidly witnessed the slow and sputtering end of the hero. The ice-covered his shoulders and head, steadily marching to cover his mouth and seal off his prayers forever. Frost had won. Just as it would win and claim the entire planet.

Still, the voice persisted. Please. Oh Patron of the Sun, hear the prayers of your people. Without you… we…

Randidly sighed. The red gauntlet hummed in sympathy. Without interference from some outside force, you will be nothing. Your people will vanish.

The layers of the world shifted again and Randidly traveled far forward. D’min’ hands had been reduced but bones, corroded by the touch of Clarent, while the rest of him was stuck in the same horrified posture, his flesh perfectly preserved in the ice pillar. Meanwhile, the black tendrils that stretched out from the hilt grew, running down his finger bones and squeezing. Beneath his frozen feet, the ground trembled. The center of this planet had been tainted; it was only a matter of time before it all collapsed.

Randidly shifted his focus; his expression softened as D’min revived before him, once more shivering and begging as he slipped through the fluttering layers. The red gauntlet of righteous fury hummed again, so he reached out with that powerful emotional accumulation and squeezed his hand around the hands of D’min. His grip was crushing.

A wave of red emotion erupted down and surrounded Clarent. Randidly two glowing orbs of observation brightened; he could feel the pleas resonating down the connection to the Patron of the Sun. There was no response from the other end of that System tether. So he allowed that pent-up fury and helplessness of his gauntlet cut that tie and seized upon those released prayers.

Randidly eased his voice into the ear of D’min. “There is a way… but you’ll need to act as a conduit for my power. Are you willing?”