The Nidhogg swoops.

It dives towards them, jaws wide open and droplets of spit dribbling from its mouth. The beat of its wings sends gales sweeping the fields, whipping up a mini snowstorm and uprooting a few of the Duskbells. Ren leaps aside, tumbling into a cluster of flowers and crashing into another soldier. Gridel shoves Tiv towards the frozen soil, using her body to shield him from the storm of snow.

A sudden yell tears through the air—one that Ren doesn’t recognise—only to gradually fade. The rest of the soldiers scramble, digging up whatever last Duskbell they can, before taking off towards the ledge.

“Wait, not now!” Mavell shouts. “Come back, or—!”

The Nidhogg circles the mountain, roaring and snapping up the fleeing soldiers. It tears men from the ground by their arms, throwing screaming soldiers into the air and gobbling them up whole, armour and all. Ren can only watch as the frantic soldiers push and shove, caring not that they are sending their friends plummeting to their doom.

“Those fools!” Mavell hisses. He glances back at his men who remain on the summit. “Attack! Distract it, now!”

Ren pulls himself to his feet just as the archers send their arrows flying at this menace of a lizard. The projectiles sail through the air, following arcs that just barely miss the Nidhogg. The creature roars, flapping its wings and taking to the skies. Ren lifts Ifrit, conjuring a fireball, and hurling it towards the Nidhogg. However, the creature dodges it as easily as it did the arrows, bellowing and sending another rush of wind towards them.

“It’s coming down,” Gridel calls, shooting a bolt which misses the lizard. “Get ready!”

The Nidhogg aims its jaws at one of the soldiers, diving low and snatching him up with a snap to his forearm.

“No!” Gridel cries, rushing forward and throwing herself at the soldier.

“Gridel! What are you doing!” Penny cries.

Gridel grabs a hold of the soldier’s legs, but her weight alone is less than enough against the strength of the wyrm. The soldier is screaming, trying to wrench his arm from between its jaws, even as they soar higher and higher into the sky. Ren charges up a ball of flame. He knows what happens to grabbed soldiers. He’s seen it happen first-hand.

And he’s not going to let that happen to his friend.

Ren slings the fireball at Nidhogg, only for it to miss again, and soar off into the distance. He grits his teeth, gathering his magic again, and channelling it into Ifrit’s orb, which now burns a bright crimson. If fireballs don’t work, then…

The Nidhogg throws its head back, releasing its grip on its prey. Gridel and the soldier are tossed into the air, bodies tumbling like rag dolls as gravity takes them prisoner. However, Gridel’s got her crossbow aimed at the wyrm’s mouth, and she lets the bolt loose before she could land in its grasp.

The arrow lodges itself in Nidhogg’s throat and the lizard screeches and ducks its head. Gridel barely clings onto its neck, having landed astride the lizard. The soldier comes crashing down on its back too, almost sliding off as he presses himself flush to the Nidhogg’s scales.

The Nidhogg rears and bucks, and Gridel almost loses her balance as it thrusts and tosses in the air. It flies overhead, lower this time, its wings scratching the tips of the tree. It would have soared higher if not for the spear that comes hurtling out of nowhere.

The spear stabs into the Nidhogg’s belly, piercing between its scales and drawing blood, splotches of black splattering to the ground. The Nidhogg shrieks and crashes into the field of Duskbells, spraying snow up everywhere. It groans, thrashing about, tail swiping at the soldiers and punting some of them over the edge of the mountain.

“Kristalle, Dirvael!” Mavell shouts, turning his head for a mere second, and he watches as his screaming subordinates are whipped off the mountain and to their deaths below. Penny runs up to the Nidhogg, alongside a tiny shape. The latter yanks the spear from the Nidhogg’s chest and the wyrm bellows once more in pain and rage as the ooze of blood from the wound now turns into a gush of black.

Penny leaps towards its neck, and slams Mira’s blade into its tender flesh. Gridel fires a bolt at the back of its head, and Ren fires forth a jet of fire that completely roasts its wings. Try as the Nidhogg might, it cannot free itself from the onslaught wrought upon it from the people on the ground.

Mavell screams one last battle cry, a sound filled with both hope and desperation, and he stabs his sword into the Nidhogg’s skull. The blade pierces deep, and if Ren listens out for it, he can almost hear the grind of metal against bone. Very soon, the Nidhogg goes limp, and its head slumps to the field, nestled amongst the Duskbells.

“It… It’s dead, right?” Gridel breathes, her arms still wound tight around the Nidhogg’s neck. Mavell’s pants loudly, fixing the wyrm with a glare most intense. Ren keeps a watch out for any signs of movements, for any indication that this monster is still alive.

“We… The Nidhogg’s dead.” Mavell staggers back, his sword still planted deep in the creature’s skull. “It’s… dead… at last.”

The lizard that’s terrorised the mountain for years, and it’s gone. They killed it with an arrow to the mouth, a spear to its chest, and a sword to its head. To be honest, neither Ren nor Penny helped much. The people who did are…

“That was amazing!” Penny cries, sweeping Tiv up into a hug, the latter so surprised that he almost drops his bloodied spear. “You totally rocked, Tiv!”

“I… What…?” Tiv stammers.

“You threw that spear, didn’t you?” Gridel says, arms folded and flashing him a smile. “That’s impressive, for someone your age.”

Penny puts Tiv down, and the boy scratches his head. “Oh, that. Well… I mean… I’ve done it lots, just nothing any bigger than a bear.”

“A bear!” Ren’s eyes widen comically. “You actually—?”

“Although, it’s the first time that it hit the Nidhogg,” Tiv says, expression remaining stoic, but the upward twitch of his lips belies his elation. “But we didn’t usually need to attack it, so…”

“The first time it hit the Nidhogg?” Ren asks. “You mean you came up here before?”

Tiv nods. “Yeah. We were trying to take the Duskbells. Hal always shielded us with his magic, so we never needed to fight it.”

“Did you say Hal?”

Ren glances over to where Mavell is approaching them, having sheathed his sword. He looks down at Tiv with a guarded expression, eyes narrowed, and his lips pulled taut. Tiv ducks behind Gridel, his fingers clenching around his spear.

“You mean to say that you are acquainted with the man?” Mavell asks. “And that he made you come up here to collect the Duskbells?”

Tiv falls silent, and he only nods in response.

“I see.” Mavell averts his gaze. “And you… brought him here with… without that knowledge?”

“We rescued Tiv from Hal’s clutches,” Gridel says. “If the boy remained, he would have perished.”

Mavell laughs, voice deep and rumbly. He turns his back to them, and back towards the dead body of the Nidhogg, where it lays amidst a field of flowers.

“Do you know how many people you killed, dear soldier of Hal?” Mavell asks quietly, his voice almost lost to the howling of the wind.

“I didn’t kill anyone,” Tiv replies adamantly. “I only kill the Bugbears.”

Mavell shakes his head. He drops to one knee, and he begins to pluck at whatever Duskbell that still grows. Gridel joins him as well, though Tiv stays standing to the side. Near the edge, but too near it either. The soldiers that are still alive help as well, gathering up the meagre remnants of the flowers into their arms.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“It’s time to go,” Mavell says.

He leads the legion down the treacherous ledge, where so many of their men had fallen in the battle that ensued. Ren doubts that the Nidhogg would threaten them anymore, and, perhaps, they’ve just made the journey a little less hazardous, and a little more achievable.

*

They end up making camp in one of the chambers in the mountain, bathed in the light of shining crystals. Water drips from the soda straws above their heads, plopping to the ground and forming puddles. Most of the soldiers sleep without even removing their armour; some of them lie on the ground, curled up against the wall, and others huddle with their knees drawn up, Duskbells hugged to their chests.

Tiv sinks into slumber as quickly as Ren expected—he was a boy who did help to fell the Nidhogg. His spear was the final straw that brought the Nidhogg to the ground, to the same level as themselves. Now, he lays his head against Gridel’s arm, arms at his sides, eyes closed, with the most peaceful expression on his face. Back in their world, Tiv would have looked like a normal child, exhausted from playing too long in the park or something.

Their world, huh? It feels like such a long time ago that Ren’s been back home. His real home.

His parents… are they doing well? Are they looking for him? Does time even move at the same rate in both worlds? Have they even realised he’s gone? It’s probably been… weeks? A month? Two months? Since they were whisked into his world. All it took was just Penny’s strange fascination with the occult and fantasy, to hurl them into a completely new environment.

“Are you all right?” Penny asks, snapping him out from his thoughts. She peers over at him, with a sort of softness in her eyes that he’s never quite seen before.

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

Penny hums, and Ren isn’t sure whether she’s satisfied with his answer or not. Gridel seems to have dozed off, her crossbow between her fingers.

“You looked like you were in deep thought.”

“Huh?” Ren chuckles. “I was just… thinking about home, is all.”

“Home, huh?” Penny mumbles, burying her face between her knees. “I haven’t… seen home for a while. I’ve been trying not to think about it.”

Now, that’s a first. Ren thought she was perfectly content remaining in this kind of fantasy world. After all, it’s her dream, wasn’t it? To live in a world of magic, a world of selkies, genies, fairies, and elves? What changed? “I thought you liked living here.”

“It’s not that I don’t like it. I mean, I’ve probably had the most fun here in, like, my whole life,” Penny mumbles. “But there’s something… it’s missing something. Like, that… that homey feel. You get what I mean?”

Yeah, Ren does. Absolutely.

“I know we’re going home after we’re done defeating all the Horsemen, collapsing the Pandora’s Citadel, and all, but…” Penny sighs. “It’s not like I want to leave Zenthos behind for good. I just wanna go home once in a while.”

Ren bites his lip. He’s heard of it from Betty, back in the Selkie tribe’s dungeons. There is one way to get home, one that is rather near, in fact. They could probably ask the Bevillians about it, or even Tiv. If the rumours were true, that some forest in the Frosgott region could lead them to another dimension, another world, then the least he could do is to try.

But at the same time, if it does work, can he abandon their quest? This world? He, Penny, Gridel, and Vane have slain two out of four Horsemen, ridding half of Zenthos of their plight, and bringing smiles back to its denizens’ faces. Sure, there had been tragedy, but where there was despair, there was also hope. Hope that once the Horsemen’s reign of terror ceased, that life could go back to how it was like two to three hundred years ago.

And not to mention that he’s the Lumina—

Ren glances over at the head that’s flopped onto his shoulder, Penny’s cascading locks tickling his neck. The day’s adventure must have worn her out. Ren sighs, leaning his head back against the rock wall. He can mull over this another time. For now, he should be getting some sleep.

And so, to the harried sounds of the blizzard outside, and the scratching of ghouls’ claws farther down the maze-like caves, Ren falls asleep. He answers to the enticing voice of slumber, and soon relinquishes himself to its embrace.

*

“Hey. Sleepyhead. Wake up.”

Ren blinks away the drowsiness from his bleary eyes, and Penny, who was naught but a blur of colours, soon comes into focus. He stifles a yawn with a hand to his mouth.

“We’re preparing to leave already,” Penny says. “Come on. Up on your feet.”

Ren does as he’s told, his mind still plagued with the fog of sleep. He yawns again, mouth open wide. The soldiers—what few of them who survived—are gathered at the mouth of the cavern, standing by the tunnel that should take them down the mountain. Ren and Penny soon join Gridel and Tiv, the latter duo standing at rapt attention. When Mavell gives the order, the soldiers move out, the bushes of Duskbells clutched tight in their arms. Their spoils from yesterday.

The trip down to Drasil Mountain’s base is uneventful. Ghouls did try to attack, but they were prepared. No longer did the creatures take them by surprise, for they stayed out of the shadows and kept to the light of the crystals. It is only when they reached the mouth of the cave that Mavell stops.

Peering over his shoulder, Ren sees it as well. Or, rather, sees them.

A middle-aged man blocks the path, and behind him is a crowd of children, all dressed in animal furs. The grown man sports curly locks of white, his wild beard held in place with a purple ribbon that matches his lilac robes. He holds a staff of gold, one that looks like the kinds that monks carry, fitted with a sparkling lotus atop it.

“Greetings, old friend. Fancy seeing you here,” the man says. His tone is serene, and his expression, calm, in stark contrast to the children in Tiki masks behind him.

“Halva, you traitor,” Mavell hisses, his hand on the grip of his sword. “How dare you stand before me, and the people that you have betrayed?”

The man, Hal, clucks his tongue. “I could ask the same of you, Mavell of the Clocktower. How dare you stand before the people you have betrayed.”

Mavell snarls. “Me? Betrayed? I didn’t betray anyone.”

Hal sighs, one hand coming up to stroke his beard. “I suppose I shouldn’t have expected someone of the Clocktower to understand my just cause. Minister Berg has blinded you.”

“What does Minister Berg have to do with this?”

Hal shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter now.” He slams his staff to the ground, and around each individual child, a shield of pink encases them. They are spread out now, each clutching their own spears, ready for battle.

The Bevillian soldiers draw their weapons as well, the sounds of blades singing against their sheaths in the silence of the snow. Ren looks from soldier to soldier, lips parted. What are they doing? How can they ever think of fighting children, of all things?

“Shame on you,” Mavell says, holding his sword out in front of him, “for forcing mere children to do your bid—”

“Watch what you say around Hal!” A girl strides up to Hal’s side, her spear pointed at them. Ren cannot see her face under the Tiki mask, but from her voice… she’s one of the children who were ordering the others around, back during the sacrificial ritual. “Or be prepared to die!”

“Now, now.” Hal reaches down and pats her head. “Control your anger, Zan. You don’t have to worry about me; I can take it.”

“But—” Zan lowers her spear.

Mavell grimaces. “This is despicable. You lie to the children and…” He cuts himself off, and he grunts. “Surrender yourself, and your army, to the authorities, Hal, and no blood will be shed.”

The corners of Hal’s lips turn up, but there is no mirth to be found in that smile. “Surrender your lives, old friend, and I will not decimate you nor your troops. I thought I made that very clear the last time we met.”

“Wait, Hal! We don’t have to fight!” Tiv squeezes through the Bevillian soldiers, joining Mavell at the front of the legion. “These people, they’re good—”

“You have no right to speak!” This time, it’s a boy who marches ups to Hal’s other side. “You are nothing but a failure, and you have—”

“Wax, that’s enough. How many times must I tell you? Tiv is always welcome in our sanctuary,” Hal says sternly. He turns to Tiv, gaze warm. “How would you like to return to our great family, Tiv? After all—”

“Um… I…” Tiv glances back at the Bevillian soldiers, but Mavell would wait no longer. He steps forward, shoving Tiv behind him, and the boy stumbles back into Gridel’s arms.

Mavell raises his sword. “To arms, men, and charge! Cut the children down if you have to!”

“Wait, what!” Penny exclaims, but her voice falls on deaf ears. “How can you—! Stop!”

Gridel grabs Tiv by the waist and drags him away from the stampede of soldiers. Ren raises his staff and conjures a wall of fire, just before the two sides meet. The Bevillian soldiers halt in their tracks, inches from the column of flames. From behind it, Ren can hear a few screams and shouts from the children.

“What is this?” Mavell whips his head around and shoots Ren one of the most intense glares he’s seen. “Why are you getting in the way?”

“Because we shouldn’t be fighting each other!” Ren cries. What is it about killing-children-is-bad that Mavell doesn’t understand? “Look, we have a common enemy! Can’t we just put our differences aside and—”

Before Ren can finish speaking, the wall between the children and the soldiers fizzle away, almost as if nothing was ever there to begin with. The snow under the fire had melted, revealing nothing but black soil underneath. Hal’s staff is pointed at them, the last cinders of Ren’s fire curling around the staff’s lotus.

“How very cute,” Hal says. “So, you have a mage with you, don’t you?”

“This man does not belong with the Bevillian army,” Mavell insists. “He’s nothing more than a bystander.”

“You mean… a Luminary?” Hal says, eyes twinkling. “Surely, you know of the boy, and the girl’s, true title?”

Mavell gapes. “The… Luminary?”

“Indeed.” Hal nods. “Have you journeyed with them for so long, and not known this fact? How utterly… stupid of you.”

“Stupid? They were mere travellers to me. Would I just go up to any person I met on the streets and ask if they were the Luminary?”

Hal presses his lips together. “In any case, that doesn’t matter now. For the sake of my family, I must destroy the Luminaries.”

“D-Destroy?” Penny stammers. Ren’s throat dries. Why does he—

He holds out his staff, and a sphere of light glows, and pulsates around it. Energy radiates off it in powerful waves. Ren throws his arms up to shield himself from the sheer amount of energy, and his jaw clenches as he plants his feet firmly into the ground, to avoid getting pushed back. The sphere grows large, almost the size of three Horsemen and their horses.

“It’s nothing personal, Luminaries. I pray to Sylph that you forgive me, and that your souls find the peace they deserve after death.”

With that, and nothing more, Hal lets the massive sphere fly.