A vision came to Satharis, an echo of his past lives, or maybe a herald of his future. He could see himself fighting the enemy, using talents and spells in new ways that complimented their effects, synergistically enhancing the effects of both. This was the key, and he could not do it alone.

He wanted to breathe fire at the thought. To burn it from his mind. Capricious Morpheus, giving him the answer on a platter of distilled poppy.

Light greeted his eyes, Satharis struggled to focus as brightness flooded his evolved eyes. Everything was so bright, so sharply defined that his eyes were not the problem, his consciousness was failing to comprehend the world around him. He extended his neck, snout encountering the inside of an egg. A primal instinct ordered him to break it, to peck at the egg until it cracked and shattered. His mind could catch up later.

Satharis flexed his claws, the vorpal diamonds slashed through the eggshell as if it were paper. Thrusting the tip of his tail into the opened shell he used his newly formed stinger to lever it apart, unzipping the shell until his stinger slipped.

Sharp claws, an armored snout, and a stinging tail, all he was missing was mighty wings. Satharis pushed the eggshell open and wiggled his hips and shoulders, rotating them in small circles as he unfurled his wings. The egg confined his wings, making him growl in frustration. Who was this shell to confine him? He was the illustrious Satharis Phearyllos Illemby! Activating his talents he strengthened his claws and stinger, reinforcing them with blue energy.

The shell crumbled and shattered under the enhanced assault, Satharis beating the remaining scraps aside with empowered wings. He found himself in a cavern lit with luminescent moss, no brighter than a few candles, yet his eyes felt as though he was staring into the sun itself. Enhanced senses seemed to come with his evolution, as well as a doubling of all his stats. Based off the eggshell fragments around him, as well as his relative perspective, Satharis extrapolated that he was slightly smaller than he had been before.

Stooping low, he examined a fragment of eggshell with his teeth, nibbling at the shell. It sparkled and danced in the light, reflecting his glowing eyes as sharply as a mirror. He swallowed the egg in his mouth, finding its crystalline lattice to be delectable. More shell snacks followed and soon he was left to preen his translucent scales.

Where his scales had been a hard blue, they were now transparent gems, harder, tougher, thick, and paradoxically lighter than his scales had been. He was exquisite. If he could say so himself.

The dungeon core appeared in front of him. Of course the newborn would be drawn to him, it was only right for the lesser beings to appreciate a dragon’s glory.

You… Look impressive. Lethal even.

“A fitting description for a Zirconian Dragon.”

Come with me, Maia was killed by humans and she isn’t respawning. My talents won’t target her, and I can’t force a respawn.

“Humans intruded while I was-”

GGRRRRrrrrrr rrrruuummmbbllll

The sound of shifting stone silenced the dragon, reminding him of his unforgotten raison d’etre. Satharis padded after Tantalus, unhindered by the shifting stone as he scrolled through his talents. A split mind had come with his evolution, allowing him to read and walk with different streams of consciousness.

“That rumbling is portentous. If the Leviathan were awake, we would be inside of it already. Speak quickly, for our lives may depend on it.”

Save the attitude, we both know what will happen when the Leviathan wakes up. Do you have the strength or talents to attack it?

Satharis gnashed his fangs, experimentally testing how his crystalized teeth interlocked. It sounded like glass grinding against glass and a few specs of glittering crystal fell from his teeth.

“My strength is brittle. I would need… Bah, I would need the human girl to temper my hide.” Growled Satharis, displeased by his reliance on another, yet ceeding his pride for his raison d’etre.

Tantalus stood a little taller, recognizing the dragon’s uncharacteristic humility.

I’m impressed… oh, Gurk is already scouting the Leviathan, but I need your help with Maia. I’m just going to teleport us, something isn’t right about her.

Satharis examined the body, taking in Maia’s mutilated form in a glance. Her slashed open eyes and severed hands told a story he had read before. The wound in her gut, just below her rib cage, confirmed it.

“They took her mana core. This is what will happen if the humans seize your dungeon core. No more magic, no respawns, no second chances. We die when we are killed.”

What?!

His heart fell into a lake of despair, plummeting deeper than all the dungeon tunnels if they were stacked into a single shaft.

“She’s dead. At least they killed her before we got attached, just buy another gorgon. Do us both a favor and make sure it’s an adult this time.”

Maia was dead, truely and permanently dead. She would never call him dad again, never ask how he was. It was fine. Maia was a monster, a creature of his imagination, not a human who needed him. No one depended on her for their survival, she was only an XP farm.

It wasn’t fine.

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

Satharis, I don’t care what you have to do, bring her back. Burn the humans to ashes, eat them, tear them limb from limb until they give her back.

“Finally!” Hummed Satharis. “My dungeon core has grown up. Send me your memories of the humans, then teleport me to their last known coordinates.” Purred Satharis, stretching his crystalline claws against the dungeon’s floor.

Deep gashes marred the stone, as if granite were pliable clay to the dragon’s evolved claws. He vanished, appearing at the dungeon’s atrium, he sniffed the air, scenting the dank dungeon and the odor of month old sweat. There was a mingling of something bitter, something bruised, battered, and bloody, the scent of a cursed core. Maia would be easy to find. Unless the humans had already broken her core, or drained it of her soul. He needed to be swift, kill the humans and recover the core before they could appraise it.

Ten buffs appeared in Satharis’ mind as the double dungeon doors swung open. Excellent, the core is finally proving his worth. A column of blue fire engulfed the Tuxford stockades, incinerating wood and human flesh like a jet engine’s exhaust evaporated unfortunate birds.

—

Hattie stirred in her sleep, scootching closer to Nara as another vision troubled her mind. Since reaching level one hundred she had been plagued with nightmares of men and women dying. Kendra guessed they were a side effect of her Divine Foresight talent. Which did nothing to ease her rest.

At Hattie’s request Nara had pushed their beds together, displaying her level one hundred strength. It might only be her secondary stat, but Nara had carried the bed and frame with one hand. A dense wood frame made from a Whispering Oak that Hattie failed to lift at all.

Nara slept facing the door, always positioning herself between Hattie and potential threats. Hattie slept tucked against her back, the same way she had slept against Diana’s back growing up. It made her feel safe, as if she weren’t the only living member of the Quades. Memories of her parents intruded on her nightmares, chasing her to wakefulness. She missed her mom and dad, missed the way Diana would sing her lullabies and stroke her hair before then fell asleep. A hand found her hip and squeezed, so soft it was almost imperceptible.

“What’s wrong?” Whispered Nara.

“Nothing…”

“Okay.” Answered Nara, granting her wish.

They both knew it was a lie, but Nara would not force her to face her demons. A small sign of her endless trust that only intensified Hattie’s wakefullness.

“How do you find a lover?” Asked Hattie, thinking of something from her nightmares only to realize she had never seen a ring on Nara’s finger. “Oh uhm, I don’t mean- if you uh- are a virgin…”

Nara let her squirm, not moving a hair as Hattie kept digging the oblong hole.

“I mean, you’re pretty enough, and I keep seeing men glance at you… So I was wondering… I want to be like you Nara!”

“No you don’t.” Said Nara, she inhaled deeply. “What you want is to be loved, to find a husband with abs that can chase away your nightmares.” She teased, pinching Hattie’s stomach gently.

Hattie swatted at her, wiggling away and getting tangled in the blankets until she was frantically caterpillaring away from her guardian. Nara couldn’t help but giggle at the girl, and gave her a playful kick to the butt, bringing her to the edge of their extended bed.

“Ah! How would you know what I want? You’ve never been married!” Grumbled Hattie, her youth overriding her tact.

Nara cocked her head. “Oh, I haven’t? Then what’s this?” She asked, producing a silver band from inside her camisole.

Hattie’s eyes lit up, curiosity and embarrassment mingling on her face in a war for her mouth.

“You have a family? Where are-”

“Dead.” Interrupted Nara, disappearing the ring back into her pajamas.

Hattie winced, her petulance vanishing as she saw the sorrow cross Nara’s face. It seems that they both had nightmares they were hiding from.

“Want to… Talk about it?”

Nara signed, a sound that declared she did not, ‘want to talk about it’.

“Do you know why people say half elves are cursed?”

“Uhm… he, he,” began Hattie awkwardly, unsure if she should mention the mule analogy that Nestor had once given her. “Not really, grandpa said some mean things, said half elves were like mules…”

Nara chuckled. “No, you can’t ride me.”

“That’s not what-” Hattie began to shout, stopping when she saw Nara’s mischievous side. She grabbed one of their many down pillows, fingers sinking into the softness as she made ready to throw it, only to stop. This pillow was too expensive to abuse, and she would not throw away Konrad’s generosity so frivolously.

“Nestor was right, we half elves are like mules, impure, and internally broken. We can’t bear children, not healthy ones at least. But mom never knew that, she raised me like a human daughter, chasing off those who would speak of half elven curses. I wish she hadn’t.” Nara paused, reaching for a pillow and pulling it close, clutching it against her stomach.

“I got married… Took us years to conceive our first. She didn’t make it, a stillborn.” Nara’s voice fell to a whisper. “We didn’t know any better, so we kept trying. Ha,” Gasped Nara, laughing to keep from crying. “We should have stopped. If only someone told me I was a mule… The next nine were the same, stillborn or broken. We halfies are different on the inside, my pelvis is too strong for human children.”

Hattie’s talent’s activated, showing her Nara’s memories. A shudder ran through her body, she felt what Nara felt, lived the experience of feeling an infant’s skull grind and pop against her pelvis. The only relief came when the midwife told her the baby was already dead. At least she hadn’t killed it.

Hattie dry heaved, flopping off the bed as visions entered her mind. She pounded her head against the planks, pain brought adrenaline which carried clarity, allowing her to deactivate her talents.

Nara remained on the bed, pulling the blankets tighter around herself.

“You did… something. I felt it.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean too! It’s these talents, they turn on when they want to-”

“I know.” Interrupted Nara.

Hattie shivered, climbing back into their silk sheets so she could hold Nara’s hand. Human contact eased their minds, collectively blunting their sorrow. They laid there, not speaking until the morning light began to peek through the shutters. Nara stirred, struggling to recount her deepest failings.

“After eleven we gave up… It- it wasn’t meant to be. By then we had heard of the curse, . My husband was grey, I married him knowing he was older than me. Didn’t even know what an immortal was back then. I was young and didn’t realize what the age gap would mean. All I saw was his smile, and his wit. Our twelfth child survived the delivery…” Nara paused, swallowing hard.

“I would like to meet him.” Said Hattie, trying to comfort her half angel.

Nara winced, then gave her a forgiving smile. “I buried Alexander next to his father. He never grew up… His bones weren’t- they were different. Not quite human but not elven either, little Alex never had a chance… Not with a mule of a mother.”

Hattie shook her, and shook her hard. “Stop it! What happened isn’t your fault! You didn’t choose to be born this way!”

Nara didn’t budge, her heightened stats naturally dampening Hattie’s plea. She wasn’t finished with her story, there was one more detail that could not be concealed.

“Nestor has been to the elven lands. I tried to go once, but they do not allow half elves to trouble the gods with our mortal mud or our short lives.” She sneered, mimicking the tone the elven guards had used to banish her. “Nestor met the demigods, conspiring with them regardless of their heritage.” A sickly grin crossed Nara’s face, one that warned of an impending emotional collapse.

“Half elf men can evolve once and have kids, the evolution process changes them enough to turn their mules into thoroughbreds. Half elven women have never conceived, not even the senarian Artemis could conceive. Six evolutions, and her babies died like mine.” Finished Nara.

She broke down, sobs racking her potent body. Hattie tackled her, wrapping Nara in her arms and squeezing with every ounce of her mortal strength. The demigod in her arms barely felt it, but it was enough. They laid there as the guild came to life, adventurers forming parties, returning from missions, and accepting new bounties. Minutes dragged into hours as Hattie dried Nara’s tears, consoling the woman that appeared young enough to be her close sister, yet older than her great grandparents.

Eventually, Nara’s tears slowed, crying herself dry. Hattie leaned in to plant a kiss on her forehead. Her talent’s activated, showing her Nara’s evolution requirements. A three part list, two of the requirements were already met, so Hattie only focused on the third option. million MP required for body alteration.

1,000,000 ? Wow… How is that even possible?

The reason Nestor had never evolved dawned on Hattie, why he had journeyed to Mount Olympus, why he concealed his true level. Facts and divinations appeared in her mind, shifting the meaning of her nightmares. The screams of agony she had heard did not belong to Hattie, there was a way to pay the evolution cost, a ritual that could evolve Nara inside of a month.

Though, it would hurt more than anything else the half elf had ever endured.

“You are my family. If six evolutions wasn’t enough, then you’ll just have to evolve seven times.”