Everything was cold. No matter how many times Maia tried to open her eyes she failed, as if her eyes no longer existed. The last thing she remembered was someone who looked like her and Gurk, bipedal and tall, a new sister and two new brothers, a family. Then she re-lived the pain.

Maia screamed.

Her evisceration played, visible through her mind’s eye as three humans tortured her, cutting open her eyes, then taking her hands. She reached for her hands, trying to fold them in her lap. A small meaningless gesture to sooth her spirit, to tell her she had respawned. Her fingers never touched, couldn’t touch.

Maia screamed.

Why would her family do that to her? Was family another word for pain? Why would they cut off her snakelocks and stab her? Why had the man stuck his whole arm inside of her? She had begged him to stop, cried out for him to stop but he ignored her, why didn’t he listen? Why had the pink shirt dragged out her torment with healing? A million more questions ran through Maia’s mind, endlessly berating her young faculties. She screamed again, crying for daddy Tantalus to save her, rescue her from the humans.

Why hadn’t he stopped them? Where was Tantalus when she needed him most?

Maia screamed, cursing the humans who had violated her.

—

A heavy hand pounded on their door, startling Hattie, and sending Nara’s hand to her belt of throwing knives. Konrad had retrieved her bow from Goblinville, but she refused to carry it until three smiths could rework it, reinforcing the weapon’s manastone and guaranteeing that the string would never blind her again. A loss she compensated for by obsessing over her weapons, each knife was sharpened, honed, stropped, and thrice polished. Each and every buckle or clasp was cleaned and oiled, while every scrap of leather had been maintained with a nourishing scrub. Nara had gotten lucky with Lord Crowell’s healing, a boon that fate had gifted her once, but she could not count on a third chance.

“Who is it?” Called Nara.

“It’s Konrad, I need a word with Hattie, you too. Something… Something has come up.”

Hattie pulled open the door so they could talk more freely, Konrad entered the room, his plate armor and shield bumping into the frame and door with a thud.

“Good, you two are dressed. The black ships that destroyed Fallbrook are headed our way. Two of them are marching- uhm flying and burning every building they come across, homes, farms, even the shithouses are getting blown apart by pillars of fire.”

Nara’s eyes narrowed at the mention of black ships; she had been present when Hattie had interrogated Dorian on their nature, using her newfound oracle abilities to enter his thoughts and see the city fall.

“Damn them to Hades, we aren’t ready Konrad! What do you expect us to do?” Growled Nara.

Konrad turned to Hattie, “I was hoping you could tell me, we have one catapult and two ballistae, gifts from Lord Crowell’s temples. Can you tell the crews where to aim? Do the black ships have any weakness we can take advantage of?”

Hattie’s spine went ridgid. “Me? Konrad- I… I’ve never seen one! I don’t know-”

“You’re going to see two in about five minutes.” Snapped Konrad.

He spun, clumsily managing to bounce off the door and doorframe in his heavy armor on his way out. Hattie’s wide eyes watched him leave. Gawking at the empty doorframe.

“Arms up.” Ordered Nara, holding a complete breastplate over her head.

“I don’t know how to fight, or if my eyes will-”

“Doesn’t matter. Your job is to go out there and try, now arms up!”

Hattie obeyed, her mind seemed to leave her body, watching as Nara armored her with a breastplate and shield, following them as Nara dragged her into the guildhall. Konrad stood at the door, issuing crass orders to adventurers that were better summarized as ‘we are under attack, fight or flee’. Everything was a blur to Hattie, Hattie could not hear the orders he gave to Nara, his voice too low for her to hear.

When her mind finally snapped back into her meatsuit they were standing behind the catapult, with the artillery crew rolling a stone into the waiting spoon. Her breastplate pressed against her soft skin, gnawing at her shoulders and chest and making Hattie lament the absence of her gambeson. Without the soft armor to cushion a blow she would only be safe from arrows, a sword slash could still break her ribs with blunt force, even if it did not cut her open.

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“Here they come.” Whispered Nara.

She pointed over Hattie’s shoulder, pressing their cheeks together as her elven eyes competed against divine sight and won. Her heart began to beat faster, she could not see the ships themselves, but their auras were visible. Clouds of boiling darkness rolled forward, dwindling slightly as red bolts of flame streaked away from them, disappearing behind the mountains of Tuxford. Soft flashes of candlelight could be seen, each flicker meant another home lost to the undead scourge.

“Loaders stand clear! Engineers, take aim!” Bellowed a man in Fallbrook blue.

Another flash, another soul lost. Hattie swallowed as the ships drew closer, their clouds dwindling with each bolt of flame, if she were to wager a guess, they had a few thousand more fireballs to throw.

“Oh gods…” She whispered, understanding precisely how fucked she was about to be.

“My Lady, where should we aim?” Asked the Fallbrook officer.

“I- They don’t have a weakness-”

“You just need to try, then we can run.” Whispered Nara.

A lump sprang into her esophagus, events were playing out exactly the same way they had played out back in Dianthus. Death was coming for her home a second time and all she could think about was running away.

— Five minutes later.

Fire hammered the palisade towers, snapping the foot thick logs like they were toothpicks. Wood splintered and broke faster than it could burn. The second torrent of fire pounded the Tuxford yellow guards to dust and set the terraced rice patties ablaze. The inferno slew the militiamen faster than they could think, raising the alarm with a pillar of fire instead of a horn. Humans fell to their knees as they saw the inferno engulf their defenses. They had been prepared to fight and maybe even die, but this wasn’t a battle, humanity could not fight against the raw power displayed.

Satharis dashed forward, his newfound claws using the burning wreckage as a ramp, his wings beat the air dismissing the inferno with a maelstrom and hurling him into the clear sky. Two more beats and he rose above the town scanning it for any sign of Maia’s core, he snarled in annoyance. He had no talents for detection, every talent, every attribute point, and every spell had been tuned to hunt Leviathans, creatures who were easily found!

A snarl erupted from his throat, rage boiling the air in front of him. He would have to sense the mana without talents, it was like bumbling through a cave at midnight, relying on the chirping of crickets to echolocate tripping hazards. A feat made possible by his evolved senses, tuning out the human screams he closed his ears and mouth. His scales lifted, splaying out from his body to feel the ebb and flow of mana, seeing rivers and streams with his soul. Roughly a dozen mana cores appeared in his mind, the nearest one was his own, followed by a core greater in size than his own.

He twisted his head to scan the ground beneath him, eyes falling on the orange haired girl. Against a field of green and brown her hair stood out like a red herring, only a fraction less startling than her enormous mana core. How could a human girl possess such raw mana?

“Hattie!” Thundered Satharis, voice reaching the girl’s ears as he tucked into a dive and flew towards her. “Give Maia back!”

Hattie jumped in alarm, stunned by the arrival of the Zirconian Dragon plummeting towards her, if a diamond the size of Luna had been falling to earth, it would have been less frightful. Nara stepped forward, arms open with palms upturned.

“We have safe passage.” She enunciated, writing the words with her lips.

A white light enveloped Satharis, a spell he recognized an instant before fifty feet of hell engulfed him. Flames rose through the air, licking his scales with charnal intentions, the white aura held fast, shielding him from the enemy spell. Hattie’s mana ran pure, unmingled by a gorgon’s core. Wings snapped open as Satharis redirected his dive, spinning on the wing and angling upward. The fire spell had come from the direction of five mana cores, two undead and three he could not place.

Twin black wooded ships floated towards him, silently challenging a dragon’s dominance of the skies.

“Ha ha hahaha! I was born to kill Leviathans, do you think a cursed bough will save you from my wrath?” Howled Satharis, gnashing his draconic teeth, sparks ignited from the Zirconian fangs.

Mana coalesced around the nearer ship, a spell forming, no doubt another fireball. Satharis opened his scales once more, attuning his senses to the incoming violence. A jet of flame pierced the heavens, a millisecond too late. It missed the dragon as he tucked one wing and flapped the other, completing a single barrel roll.

If you are going to take a shot at me, you had better not miss. Thought Satharis. He activated his talents, reinforcing his talons as his wing muscles burned. He needed to fly more often, the dungeon had evolved his body and talents, but neglected his wings.

Black wood appeared in front of his face, his claws rent the ship’s side, ripping the belly of the black ship apart with twelve blades of lightning. It buckled under his weight, yanking him to a stop as the skip listed and spilled human bodies onto the distant ground below. His tail stinger aided their fall, bisecting bodies and skulls with a mind of it’s own. Satharis knew this ship was beyond repair, but they had challenged him in his home. These interlopers would be made an example. He unleashed dragonfire into the ship’s open belly, pouring hell into the wooden vessel until he felt the ship crack. Then he kept pouring.

The frigate’s fore began to list to port while its rear tilted aft, its mast buckled and swayed, breaking loose as the black frigate exploded. Satharis ignited his claws once more , coating them in blue light, the encapsulating wood rippled and boiled, falling free of his god slaying talons. He sneered at using the talent on wood, but enjoyed the sensation of solid material vaporizing between his toes.

Somewhere in the bowels of the earth, a Leviathan sneezed.

Tuck, twist, and flap, simple thoughts guided Satharis’ actions. Flight was as natural as walking, though he now had to dodge burning wreckage. If Maia’s core was aboard that ship, he could recover it later. A column of fire interrupted his thoughts, splashing across what had once been the frigate’s poop deck.

He chuffed at the futility of trying to use fire against a dragon, flapping hard as he maneuvered behind and below the second frigate. When would humans learn their place?

—

Nara saw the killing intent in Satharis’ eyes, her elven eyes picking out his fury across the sky. She did not need to be told of his evolution, as the evidence condemned two black ships to their doom. The humans of Tuxford guild watched like bound prisoners, captivated by the dragon flying through a half dozen fireballs to rip the frigates into splinters. Bodies fell as draconic talons tore into the ships, white and blue arcs of energy slicing through wood like it was wet paper.

Satharis made the slaughter look easy, effortless even. They had scored direct hits with the catapult and ballistae, only for the ships to ignore the attacks entirely.

“What’s a ‘Mayas core’?” Asked Hattie.

A puzzled look crossed her face, her eyes unfocusing as she activated her strange oracle talents. Nara spared a glance around them, walking behind the oracle so she could see any approaching threats. Undead had fallen from those ships, most likely breaking their legs or falling onto trees and being skewered, but a few might have survived. A lich or banshee or wight could have survived the fall, she needed to stay vigilant while Hattie was incapacitated. Hattie convulsed, falling to her knees and heaving.

“Gods, make it stop!” She screamed.

She shut her eyes and thrashed her head, trying to escape the vision. Nara caught her by the waist, squeezing her hard enough for Hattie to take notice. The orange haired girl spat, clearing the iron taste from her mouth.

“Satharis is going to kill everyone.”

“What? Why? We’ve had a truce- It doesn’t matter. How can we stop him?” Said Nara, shaking her head halfway through and helping Hattie rise.

“The mustachio from the guild, we need to find him and Hector. Quickly! Before Satharis finishes killing those ships!” Gasped Hattie, already staggering towards the guildhall.