Of Truth and Beasts

The “blood of sacrifice” was clearly the descendant of Deep-Root. But Ore-Locks was gone, and she didn’t know where he was or when he would return. The “anchor” had to mean the orb itself. But the strange reference to a “shackled one,” a “prisoner,” and keeping it from a “first slave,” left her bewildered.

What did any of this have to do with the orb?

More than you deserve to know.

Wynn stilled her thoughts, for every one of them was exposed to this ancient being. She looked at Chane, and as much as she feared shattering this very fragile respite, she couldn’t accept leaving him after what he had done.

Then it is upon your life that he comes.

Again, the reply came before Wynn could speak. She carefully waved Chane to her. Without hesitation, he sidled around the creature, coming to her as quickly as he could without breaking into a run. The open relief on his face pulled at Wynn.

“Put the sword away,” she whispered. “Don’t draw it again, no matter what happens.”

Chane shook his head, his expression hardening, and the color began to fade from his eyes.

“Trust me,” she said.

He tensed at her urging. She wasn’t certain anything she said or did would get through to him. Finally, he slid his sword back into its sheath.

The dragon watched his every move.

The second one had stopped up the tunnel, as if waiting. Wynn headed after it, with Chane behind her and Shade in the lead. The first creature followed, and soon all Wynn could hear was the sound of claws scraping stone.

“Where are we—?” Chane began.

She quickly glanced back and shook her head at him. There was so much she had felt in the ancient memories of these beings. She knew they were descended from the one who’d sacrificed itself with Deep-Root. They had been here, one generation after another, guarding the orb, but for reasons she couldn’t fathom.

That they continued to fulfill their ancestor’s stand against the enemy was clear. But whether they were truly allies was not so certain. They wanted something from her, and she didn’t believe she would walk out of this seatt unless she fulfilled whatever they required.

Soon they passed the breach into the Chamber of the Fallen, but the lead dragon continued up the tunnel’s other way. Along the winding passage, Wynn saw it pause briefly ahead at turns, breaks, and splits in the tunnel. They kept on at a pace that forced her into a half trot, and soon she emerged in a pocket of deeply sloping stone.

The smaller, lead dragon settled on a rise of stone near one of the side walls. The surface beside it was strangely smooth, though it slanted toward the pocket’s roof. Wynn squinted, letting out a bit more light from the crystal in her hand.

There were ragged marks in the walls, as if clawed into the stone, but the longer Wynn looked, a pattern began to emerge.

You will wait here ... for him.

She looked back to find the first dragon inside the pocket’s opening, blocking the way.

“I don’t know where Ore-Locks is,” she answered. “How could he find us here?”

The blood will come to its own.

As if on cue, heavy footfalls echoed from the tunnel beyond the pocket.

Ore-Locks appeared at the opening, carrying the orb under one arm and the iron staff in his other hand. At first, Wynn could only focus on the orb. She remembered how heavy the orb of Water had been. She was astonished he could carry the orb of Earth with one arm.

At the sight awaiting him, Ore-Locks’s eyes widened. He backstepped, leveling his staff one-handed at the first dragon. It didn’t even look at him, but shifted to make room for him to enter.

“Ore-Locks,” Wynn said, waving him in.

He blinked at her, hesitated longer, and then cautiously crept down the passage.

“What is happening?” he asked.

The answer lashed every other thought from Wynn’s mind.

Look upon the last words, and speak them to him.

The second dragon swung its head toward the marred wall.

Wynn stepped closer, examining the claw marks. “I cannot read these,” she said, but words began filling her head. 

Chane watched Wynn’s face as she flinched. Words poured from her mouth in Numanese as if she performed a recitation.

May I be forgotten for what I do.
May I die in Eternity for the choice I make.
May the necessity never be used to forgive me.

Let my people live again, but without the horror that I am.
Let my name be forgotten by all but one.
May only my brother ...

Wynn faltered, and her breath caught sharply. She covered her mouth, and a tear slipped from her left eye.

Chane put a hand on her shoulder, but before he could speak, she went on.

May only my brother ...