Of Truth and Beasts

Chane ran into view, and Wynn pushed herself up to sit. He had his sword in one hand, and his eyes sparked without color in the light of his crystal. His features were twisted with panic and blind rage, like that night back in First Glade.

The first dragon snaked its head back toward him, and Chane raised his blade.

“No!” Wynn shouted. 

Chane saw Wynn on the tunnel floor with the reptile’s massive head hovering over her. The sight magnified his fear until even the beast within him struggled to rouse from under the violet concoction that kept him awake. He raised the sword, ready to strike once and slip past to Wynn.

Shade snarled and whirled the other way.

But then Chane saw the second winged monster up the tunnel, and his self-control drained away completely. He lunged as the first one turned its head his way. Wynn cried out, but he only heard her panic and not her words. As he swung, the nearer creature drew its head aside, opening its maw with a hiss. Not even the threat of all-consuming fire cut through Chane’s madness to get to Wynn.

“Chane, stop it!”

He heard Wynn’s call at the edge of his awareness, distant and echoing, like something tapping him awake from dormancy.

“He’s not what you think,” she shouted, her voice echoing in the tunnel.

Chane faltered before he swung. Those words had not been for him—but for whom?

The question awakened reason, and Chane stopped no more than a sword’s reach from the creature’s jaws. He smelled its breath, hot and stinking like something akin to smoke and oil. The stench cleared his thoughts a little more.

Rushing in blindly would not save Wynn. Somehow, he knew this.

Chane fought for reason, struggling to swallow down the hunger and rage and the half-awakened beast inside him. The reptile’s maw slowly closed, but it did not turn from him. He kept his sword cocked upward as he looked at Wynn.

“Did you find it?” she called to him, her voice desperate.

It? What did she mean?

Wynn glanced once down the tunnel, beyond him. She appeared less afraid of those creatures penning her in than of something else.

Chane remembered the orb.

“Where is Ore-Locks?” she asked in alarm. “Where’s the wraith?”

Chane’s clarity sharpened, and he cowed the stirring beast inside him.

“Ore-Locks ...” he began. “I sent him.... He took the orb into stone before il’Sänke could take it.”

Wynn’s eyes widened. “Il’Sänke? What are you—?”

“He is here. He tried to take it.”

“You gave the orb to Ore-Locks?”

Chane faltered in shame, not knowing what to say. He had let Ore-Locks take the one thing she sought at all cost, because reaching her mattered more to him than anything.

“I had to,” he finally answered.

To his surprise, Wynn nodded. “It’s all right. He’ll come back.”

Chane stared at her, dumbfounded by her sudden calm. She knew no such thing.

“You did everything right,” she said. “Everything.”

At a complete loss, he stood there looking at this small woman who had brought him halfway across the world. He understood only that she was alive, whole, and unharmed. This was all that mattered. 

Wynn watched in relief as the soft but pale brown color flooded Chane’s irises. He lowered his sword. Before she could take a step toward him, multitongued words exploded in her head.

There is more to learn ... and to discern.

As before, she felt emotions—hesitation and suspicion and doubt. She spun sharply to see the second dragon coil and turn, heading back up the tunnel. Shade rumbled, backing up, but then she turned, rounding Wynn with a nudge. Yet when Wynn looked back at the first dragon, she found it still blocking Chane’s way. Before she could say anything, more words filled her head in every language she knew.

Not this unliving thing. It will no longer defile this place of sacrifice.

The dragon had seen all her memories. It should know better.

“You know how I see him,” she answered. “Without him, I wouldn’t be standing here. And the orb wouldn’t have been saved without him.”

You saved nothing!

At those sharp words, Wynn heard Shade yelp, and everything darkened for an instant before her eyes. The dragon swung its head away from Chane and turned on her. Its jaws parted in a hiss as spittle struck the tunnel floor.

We have no faith in your kind, no trust in you to keep a prisoner of Existence out of the claws of the first slave. The shackled one is not for you! We give the anchor of Earth only to the blood of the sacrifice. It is now his to protect. Move on ... or die with your walking dead!

Wynn forced herself not to flinch at a flickering flame sparking between the creature’s grinding teeth. Her mind raced over its words.