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ofvindictc · 4 years

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tagging: @ofisolaticn & @ofprinciples location: levi’s apartment. description: the game comes to an end. there’s defeat, there’s victory, and a few twists you might not have seen coming.

levi stone / daniel warren

when disaster strikes, there are always warning signs. alarm bells before a hurricane, or little shocks before a devastating earthquake. little signals, little hints, that your world is about to turn upside down. he'd always thought he'd see the end coming when it inevitably came, would see the threads of his plan start to unravel before they went nuclear. none of that happens though. he doesn't see the bracelet on henrik's wrist ( after months together, he's never worn one before; so of course, he stopped looking ) and doesn't notice the confusion on his face when the compulsion doesn't connect. he's distracted, thoughts on amelia, or the horseman's insatiable hunger that throbs like a migraine you can't kick, so he misses it. ( do you want to talk about your day? henrik asks, twice, though levi's told him to leave it alone. no, he bites back, eyes flashing golden with irritation before he realizes the error of his ways. forget you saw that. it was a trick of the light. i'm just a vampire. ) if he was thinking as logically as he once had, before amelia, maybe he would have seen henrik pulling away; would have suspected that something was up. he never does though, too caught up in the never-ending fight to keep famine nourished, covering up his murders, and ensuring his wife, his family, will make it through the horrors that they've suffered. the divide between levi and daniel is so wide, so blatant, that sometimes when he looks in the mirror he isn't sure who's staring back. ( it's a problem. he knows this. ) it's because his guard is down, defences lowered, that he doesn't see the attack coming before it's too late.(edited)

henrik mikaelson

it was a blissful ignorance, henrik realized later. with little signs, little breaks in the perfect image, ones that he saw and made the choice to ignore. it was easier to ignore. a amazing boyfriend, someone who loved him fully for who he was, someone who he put his heart in the hands of. someone who made him feel loved. someone so perfect they couldn't possibly be anything other than a manipulated figment of a dream. he'd just been a fool. thinking everything is going to be okay. pure fool. the bracelet was something he appreciated. he liked arlo. it was nice making friends, even if he was a bit on the younger side. henrik didn't feel the need to console him like he did his students, arlo was an old soul. someone who understood him in a way henrik was a bit shocked at, if he were being honest. he underestimated the younger man, completely. and then, when offered a small charm of a bracelet, he appreciated it. he said yes because it was NICE and there was no reason for a no. he asked levi about his day, twice. because he wanted to know, because he felt a distance, because he loved and he cared and maybe that'd been wrong. because levi's eyes flashed GOLDEN in anger ( he angered him that much?? ) and he looked him in the eyes like a vampire did and he tried to compel. and henrik was too starstruck to say a damn thing. he'd spoken to arlo and asked, nee, begged. for the compulsion to be erased, to be undone. and then--- it was. it was an agony, and it was heartbreak and henrik hated it for making him feel like a fool. and then, he also didn't. because as foolish as he felt, that kind of love was something he cherished. he'd never felt it before and despite the fury... there was gratefulness. it was arlo's idea to orb them and henrik couldn't help but agree. orb them in and watch the spell unfold. "hey," he greeted, awkwardly.

finn mikaelson

always and forever is a pesky mantra. it means standing by the sides of your siblings when they needed you, even if it risked exposure. he'd planned on just keeping an eye on his more vulnerable siblings, make sure they were safe, but it had turned out that his youngest brother was anything but. the compelled memories tell a story that mystified even him but he's not in a position to give henrik grief, only solutions. it's why they've orbed into the man's living room, magical binds summoned with a spell to knock the man ( no, the hybrid ) to his knees.

" someone's been naughty. " his words are dry, a vial of truth serum, home brewed, gripped in his free hand. the man struggles against the restraints as he approaches, the vial poured down his throat once he's close enough to keep him still. the restraints might not hold him forever, but the aneurysm inducing spell that can split a vampire's head wide open with a powerful migraine will be equally as effective.

the hybrid's chest is heaving, fangs distended as his eyes glow golden. he's exposed himself for what he really is now; there'll be no denying it now. " who the hell are you ?" this is directed at finn, smirking in the body of arlo park. " henrik, what the hell is this? don't let him do this. " the original considers intervening, telling him to shut up, but this isn't his place; this is henrik's fight, he's just here to ensure it's a fair one.

henrik mikaelson

the memories were both like a romantic comedy and a horror movie played out through his eyes. they picked apples, they had romantic evenings, and henrik fell in love. and as much as it was fake, it also wasn't. not all of it. being aware of the facade didn't take back those whole feelings of love he felt. it didn't erase every wanting moment. every kiss, hug, comfort. what it did was on a level, worse. leaving a dark poisoned shroud over them. it was funny thing, when the thing you love most was a detriment. he remembered all those compulsions, every single one. from the ones to tell him to shut up, to go away, to not care when levi took bites out of him. god, he'd been a human blood bag for so so long and he thought it was OKAY. so yes, as much as there was love remaining there was also fire building. or maybe gasoline. the fire had yet to ignite. he'd spoken to arlo more then he planned to. confessed all the emotions that hurt so fucking much. he'd bee surprised at the man's sympathy as henrik went on and on and on. he considered a lot of things. telling a friend, boarding himself up at magic school, even telling his family, begging klaus to rip him to shreds. that idea had been appealing until he realized how much it would hurt. because his seething betrayal didn't shatter his LOVE. henrik sort of fucking hated that bit, admittedly. it'd be easier if he could straight up hate levi. he remembered the utter terror of running from the man, of him killing his own neighbor and compelling henrik that dreaded night. that... wasn't easy ( he kept flinching at loud noises now and he'd defeated THAT response at 19. he would need to defeat again, he would. )

. but, as much as he knew he didn't want to see levi die. some things did change. he used to be one of them, one of the most important people, one of the people henrik would do most anything for. from ignoring the wrongness of something, to helping commit atrocities if it meant keeping them safe and happy. that didn't apply anymore. he couldn't erase his feelings but he could erase that. he couldn't choose to not love, but he could choose not to care. he'd never heard arlo speak with such dryness. not that henrik could blame him all too much. golden eyes glow and henrik is... unsurprised. he knows what he knows, and he feels TIRED. he wants this over with, but he knows it's not that simple. the truth serum, arlo guaranteed it would work. which was why it was easy to ask such blunt questions. "do you love me?" he asked the words gently--- weakly, both dreading and expecting the answer all too well. "and..." better to rip off the band aid, right? "whats your name?"

levi stone / daniel warren

tw: suicidal ideation

he doesn't bother pulling at the restraints once his knees hit the floor. he squirms away from the witch that's prying his mouth open, tries to growl but simply ends up choking on whatever they pour down his throat. the restraints burn his wrists, likely some kind of vervain derivative cooked up to keep him down. he thinks maybe he could break them but not without great sacrifice. ( famine's already weak. he hasn't fed today, he won't be able to help; he has no get out of jail free card. ) there's a quiet desperation in his voice as he pleads for henrik to stop this, for him to free him, but when he starts asking questions — that mask slips. he knows now; henrik knows the truth. there's no sense arguing, or begging for mercy -- for compassion. he's been found out, there's no absolution here. " no. " the words come out through clenched teeth, one last attempt at keeping this charade from imploding. he fails, like maybe he always knew he would, and hammers the final nail into his coffin. " i never did. i've only loved one person and she's not you. " it's not said maliciously, just honestly. maybe the most honest he's ever been with him. the second question is more complicated. it draws a laugh, wrists tugging against the restraints and inhaling sharply when they burn. ( he tugs again — maybe he deserves this ) " that depends. it's getting a little crowded in here these days. " he feels compelled to tell the truth but he's been running from it for so long ... it feels like he's poking something fractured; something damaged. " my name was daniel. then, it was levi. oh, and famine. it's a regular party in here. "(edited)

henrik mikaelson

despite it all, despite every single thing levi had done. from gaslighting him, to sinking his teeth into his skin, it still pained henrik to see him in this state. to see him held down with chains, his jaw pried open, he had too look away as arlo poured the truth serum down his throat. he felt guilt, guilt he knew was unwarranted considering the situation but still, horribly, there. he never heard his boyfrie--- no he couldn't call him that. calling him that would only make him feel even more of a fool then he already did. henrik had too much self respect for that. a slip, he could manage. but he wouldn't willingly say the words or think them. there it goes. expression changing so easily, it broke henrik's heart to watch the man he loved dying right before his eyes. a metaphorical death, but death nonetheless. lips pressed together because it was easier then letting out the shaky raw breath gathering in his throat from the confirmation of such a thing. he was so sure, that levi was the first person who loved him. no obligation, no strings tying them together beyond their hearts. and now? it was all a lie. and yeah, it hurt like hell. henrik knew the man would be able to see it all over his face, levi obviously knew him well by now. even if the man himself was a stranger to henrik. he hadn't been the one with the mask on the whole time, after all. he nodded his head, expression betraying him. it was irrational heartbreak, he knew. rationality and emotions ran parallels, lines that never met. "you didn't even care, not for a moment." it was silly threads he was holding onto, but he wanted to hear it from levi. maybe then, it would be easier.

. the laugh sent shivers down his spine. so unlike the man he thought he had known. his face brittles with confusion because DANIEL he remembered from his memories. but famine? "like the horseman?" yeah, he knew some mythology. not all of it, but enough. it was practically courses in magic school, henrik did pick up some things.March 24, 2020

levi stone / daniel warren

maybe he's not a complete monster. maybe somewhere, buried deep under layers of anger, or resentment, of hate, he can find an inch of compassion for this person he's hurt; he's wrecked. maybe he's capable, but even in the end, in the revelations of his own failures, he doesn't regret his choices. his plan was good, it was flawless even — and maybe if he'd been less human, more monster, it would have worked. ( he's not sure if he's angry or relieved about that. maybe some mix of the two. it's complicated. ) " i didn't. " he agrees, mostly because he has to. whatever they've given him, it won't let him say anything but the truth. ( ironic, given, he's not sure even he knew some of these truths. ) " you weren't a person to me. you were a chess piece. the mikaelsons are a fortress and i needed an in. " henrik, human henrik, was an easy mark and he'd exploited that. " — but don't take it personally, i didn't care about anyone. i just wanted revenge. " he still does, he still feels that undercurrent of anger that runs through him, but it's diluted; he feels other things, too. has, ever since amelia came back. " my switch was flipped. mostly, anyway. " it's — not something he considered, not really. he felt anger, felt vindictive, but never considered a world where you could blot out half and focus on the others. it was ... a surprise, even to him.

* " yeah, him. " his smile dies on his lips, feels the horseman restless in his head. like a siren's song, mere mention of him has him stirring. " i was out on patrol when a mysterious fog rolled in. it was him, and he needed help. " his visage cracks, exhaustion bleeding through. " he said we needed each other. " maybe they had, maybe he wouldn't have gotten this far without him, but right now he just feels tired. tired, angry, and caged. ( he pulls hard on the restraints again, just to feel something else )

henrik mikaelson

he felt used. and it hurt. he was so sure everything was going so well. he had his family, he had his friends, he had his boyfriend. it'd been so perfect, so flawless. henrik should have known better. a life of hardship didn't seamlessly disappear like that in favor of being happy. and now here he was. broken hearted for so many things, so many losses. the loss of love, the loss of trust, the loss of faith in his very self. the loss of the person that made him so so happy... it hurt. a nod of his head, glassy eyes and fragile expression. "i... i figured that." still needed to hear, still painful to hear, to know. but then levi--- daniel, he went on. and oh. henrik didn't know it could get worse but then there it was. getting worse. daniel hadn't felt a thing for him, because you can't feel things for pawns. and that's all henrik had been to him. all those late night movies, apple picking, candle lit dinners, the way he made him feel--- none of it was real. and fuck. there was a desire to ask arlo to change the plan. hold him down while henrik got out a piece of wood. he could stab levi right in the heart, the same place levi stabbed him. watch the man fall apart before henrik's eyes, like henrik was falling apart in front of his. but no. because it'd be a second later in which he'd realize what he'd done. and that love he felt for levi stone would become even more of a burden then it already was. and trust him, it was plenty of a burden. "that's sad." he didn't say it with judgement, with empathy or sympathy. there was sorrow in his tone, not for levi. but for himself. for his hopes, his dreams, his future which was now something he never expected or would have dreamed of. finally, his eyes met levi's and henrik spoke. words he hadn't expected to admit, let alone feel. "i almost feel sorry for you. you spent so much time on revenge, so much time using me and... and it was a waste." it wasn't even gloating. just a melancholy statement.

. there was no interest in his life story or even why levi wanted revenge. henrik couldn't bring himself to care. what's done was done and what scarred him would never be erased. well, it could be. but he wouldn't want it to. as much as it hurt, it'd remain as a reminder. a reminder to be smarter, a reminder to be stronger, a reminder of how much he loved his family, a reminder of how stupid he had been. and to never be so stupid again. at least, not anytime soon. he bit his lip, because the horseman did change things. the plan had been simple enough but this was a new factor. he had planned not to tell his siblings of what happened, not have them condemn him or pity him. it would have been easier that way. but what if his plan wasn't enough? this was a horseman. and if not telling his family could put them in danger--- he couldn't do that. fuck. "and he wants to help you with your vengeance." the confirmation was needed, if only purely for henrik himself.

finn mikaelson

there's an amount of pride that finn feels as henrik stares down the hybrid. he didn't know him very long, or very well, in the short period of time he'd been back but his restraint is remarkable. by mikaelson standards. his other siblings, save maybe freya, would have painted the walls with this creature's blood if they'd have deigned to be played as such. ( this speaks to his humanity. something the whole family is sorely lacking. )

he only intervenes when the hybrid snaps forward, the restraints pulling and crackling. they're powerful; he figures, if push ever came to shove, they could even hold one of his siblings. all the same, he tightens his hand into a fist. hybrids might have accelerated healing but those pesky little blood vessels popping in his head ? it'll hurt like a bitch. " don't interrupt. " he says simply, eyes on levi. " let him speak. " after all, doesn't henrik deserve his moment in the sun ? he sure thinks so.

levi stone / daniel warren

* the pain rocks through levi's skull, forcing his eyes shut as he growls. his eyes are blown wide, pupils bright yellow as he snaps at nothing. he's unable to break free, to do anything but fight, and what was once apathy is now pure rage. ( he thinks this is famine's doing; he has the reigns now, is pushing daniel down. so far down, all he can feel, all he knows, is the horseman's anger. ) " tha fios agam dè a th 'annad. no an àite, cò. " the horseman spits the words at the witch, using gaelic to mask his words. " tha thu a ’coimhead nas fheàrr na nuair a chunnaic mi mu dheireadh thu. " he knows the witch understands, sees the recognition and the fury pass over his features. i know you, i know what you are. you look better than when i last saw you. ( he wonders, idly, if the youngest mikaelson knows about the imposter masquerading as this witch. he bets no, but decides to keep that to himself; a bargaining chip. ) " you'll have to forgive your boyfriend. " famine's eyes flutter back to their natural hues, look up at henrik with interest. " he can't come out and play right now. i'll let him know you feel pity for him though. * GREAT* stuff. " lips twitch, a hint of a smirk at play. he doesn't bother tugging at the restraints; he knows he's too weak to break through them. he's a pragmatist. " when his interests and mine aligned, yes, i helped him. " which is true, for the record. " — but he's proven his WEAKNESS. he deviated from his plan, got sloppy and that's not really how i play the game. " the horseman shrugs, cavalier twist in his tone. " just consider me a silent partner. or a gatekeeper, if need be. "

henrik mikaelson

the hybrid snapped forward and henrik didn't even flinch. he didn't know where such bravery came from, or if it was bravery at all even. perhaps, it was foolishness. regardless of what it was, he didn't back down. eyes connected to daniel's, and staring him down with strength henrik needed to dig into. ( he didn't typically have it, only stored on behalf of other's. this was the first time, in a long time, he was using that streangth on behalf of himself ). "thank you arlo." he spoke, tone even but kind nonetheless. watching levi, daniel was something of an experience. in his memories held few times with those golden hues faced at him. but to see him and be aware, not be running or on the verge of being compelled, it was something else entirely. there was chanting, and henrik was lost. he didn't enjoy the feeling, not after all that had happened. he lacked so much control for so long without having known it. he wasn't keen on staying locked out of the loop for so long. "he's not my boyfriend anymore." and he said the words so fast without hesitation because if not for famine's sake, but his own, he needed to remember that. " a gatekeeper." henrik echoed, not quite convinced. he read about the horseman with a student once. they were having troubles with their studies and henrik volunteered to give a helping hand. he read about the horseman bringing forth the end of days, each bearing a ring upon their finger. a source of their power. famine, not the most powerful but powerful nonetheless. no, henrik couldn't take the risk of a changed mind and such power in the hand's of a man who hated his family. brazen, he crossed forward and wasted no time in sliding the ring off daniel's hand. eyes set on him, seeing how such a loss would effect him and hoping it'd be the right response.March 30, 2020

levi stone / daniel warren

it's as the ring's twisted from his finger that levi feels one last surge of overwhelming anger from his passenger as its ripped from him. it feels like someone's sliced open his sternum, reckless fingers ripping famine from his psyche as he screams. ( he has a high pain threshold. he thought he'd known pain, thought he'd known suffering, but this is somehow WORSE. ) he loses consciousness at some point, likely his body's way of protecting the fragility of his mind from the abrupt splintering. the last thing he feels is anguish mixed with revulsion as the black seeps in and sucks him under.

finn mikaelson

with more warning, perhaps finn would have cautioned his brother from angering a horseman. it's inevitable that the ring find its way back, the essence of famine returning to whatever withered husk it had left behind when it chose this body. he doesn't though, simply makes one of those 'yikes' faces teenagers constantly make before turning back to henrik. " with the ring off, he won't be able to access famine's powers. " he smiles, because to henrik this is a victory -- even if it's likely only temporary. " i can take it if you want, for safekeeping. " this face looks innocent, looks trustworthy. " we've got this thing that traps powerful cursed objects. i can put it in there and lock it away. it'll be safe. " behind him, he hears the hybrid start to stir. he debates whammying him again but knows this is a fight henrik needs to finish, no matter what he chooses.

henrik mikaelson

the sight of levi, daniel, before him--- bellowing in such pain and agony. henrik couldn't help but FLINCH at the sight. even now, after all he'd done. it made him feel something to see him in such pain. he felt guilty for that. he should be able to ravish his enemy's wildering pain ( enemy, the world felt wrong in his mind. unfamiliar and uncomfortable ). and yet, watching him in pain, henrik needed to look away. there was no regret. even if it made him feel some type of way to see daniel in pain, henrik didn't regret a single thing. a firm nod of his head, relieved at the loss of power's. the last thing he needed was daniel enraged and coming after his family. ( yeah, a very loud FUCK THAT in the back of his mind. ) "actually that'd b great." he wouldn't have known what to do with it anyhow, probably would have given it to niklaus or magic school. both of which options would demand explanation, which he wasn't keen to give. he didn't want klaus to know how he'd been duped, nor magic school to think he was a liability. maybe it was selfish, probably was. but he wouldn't risk it. so yes, letting arlo have the ring was his best option. "thank you." daniel begin to stir, and henrik had some words left. harsh words, that would not be easy to say. but he would do them anyway, he needed to. "after we finish how long could you keep him down?" he couldn't stay in that apartment. and he wouldn't risk getting everything in case of running into daniel or daniel finding wherever he lived next. wherever that would be. ( he'd figure it out ).

finn mikaelson

he takes the ring when its offered, securely tucking it into his pocket. he might not be as consumed with a thirst for power, for status as some of his siblings, but he knows not to underestimate an opportunity when it falls into his lap. ( better in his hands than someone else's. ) he watches as the hybrid stirs, glancing over at henrik when he asks the question. " that depends. i can keep him down for a few hours, put him in a suspended state, or we can put him down for good. " it certainly wouldn't be any skin off his back to eliminate the hybrid from the world. it's beyond an abomination; a bastardized creation from niklaus' bloodline that should never have existed. " whichever you'd prefer.

henrik mikaelson

"we aren't putting him down for good." it was said in a more demanding tone than henrik was used to using, but he couldn't help it. the idea of it, despite everything, made him sad. for all the bad memories daniel (as levi) had given. he also had given kind ones, warm ones. it didn't make his actions lessen or null. but it did change some things. "a few hours would work, thank you." his tone switched to something far kinder, and more appreciative. arlo was doing a lot for him, after all. a deep breath as he watched levi--- no, daniel, begin to open his eyes. "i have some things to say to you," he preempted. "and you... you're gonna listen." a deep breath. "anyone else in my family would slaughter you. they would make you hurt in ways you wouldn't dream and make you regret every single thing you've ever done." he stood straighter, with more conviction. "but i'm not my family. if you'd done this to one of them... maybe. but you did this to me, your life... it's mine." he took a step forward and knelt closer. eye level with daniel. "i'm letting you keep it. no more death, no more manipulation, no more anything. i'm letting you live." he emphasized. "this time, that is." more somber, he said. "there will be no next time. what saved you, was the happiness you brought me. lies or not, compulsion or not, i still remember it." and a spiteful part of him hoped daniel would hate that. you live by the grace of my will. "but... if you so much as go near my family, go near me... i'll tell them everything. and i know my brother's reputation, i know you do too. and my older sisters, my other brothers, all of them. my family, if they know what you attempted. they'd end you. there would be no place for you to hide. and this time, i won't stand in the way." it felt like a threat. henrik didn't know if he wanted it to be one, how he wanted daniel to feel. but he felt strong. and that was all that mattered in the end, in this moment.

#( interactions )#( henrik )#( finn )

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azvolrien · 6 years

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Anchored Tempest - Chapter Four

I would like to say I was busy or got distracted but I actually just forgot about this. But I’m back on it now.

~~~

“You’re sure it’s a good idea to take them to the Warren?” asked Ikara, watching dubiously as Una rubbed some of Karash’s healing salve over the welts the bindings had chafed into the dragon’s hide. “I mean… All right, this pair does seem harmless enough, but is everyone else going to believe that?”

“No, I doubt it very much,” said Karash. “Nirali will be fine right off, and most of the other Memory-Singers should at least hear them out. But the warrior types, and especially the other Windkindred…”

Ikara gave a small hum of reluctant agreement. “So we keep them a secret until we can get them to the Warren?”

“No! No. The land between here and the Warren is too populated for there to be any hope of that, and if they’re only seen as some… some shadowy figures lurking in the mountains, people will get scared, someone will do something stupid, and someone – possibly the same someone, possibly our guests – will get hurt as a result.”

“So… you do want people to know they’re here?”

Karash folded his arms. “Yes, but… in a controlled way. We take them back to the village first, so a few people can get used to them and see that they aren’t a threat. That way, whatever gossip starts to spread will at least start with the right information. Still, you might have to fend off some of the more hard-line Windkindred.”

“I’ll be honest,” said Ikara, “I’m not looking forward to explaining this to Tagra. You know what she’s like where the g- where the dragons are concerned.”

“Mm. In the meantime, it can’t hurt to find out a little more about our guest.” Karash rocked onto his feet, stood, and walked over to crouch near Una. She gave him a friendly, if somewhat wary smile and tied a clean bandage over the worst of the welts on Star’s muzzle.

“Tell us,” said Karash in slow, careful Orcish, not too taxing for the little Una had picked up so far, “about your name.”

Una frowned. “My name?”

“Names are very important to the orcs,” said Karash. “What does yours mean?”

“Um… Think ‘one’. ‘First’, ‘oldest’.”

“That sounds more like a cradle-name,” muttered Ikara.

Karash gave her a stern glance. “And are you?” he asked Una.

“Is what?”

“The oldest.”

Una made a vague well-maybe gesture. “Is oldest… need younger. Is only.”

“Huh. Is that normal? It’s quite unusual amongst orcs.”

Una shrugged. “Not normal. Not strange. Just… is.”

“I see.”

“Me bringing… is mother… almost death. Parents is… not want danger other.”

“I don’t even know what she was trying to say there,” said Ikara.

“Be nice, you didn’t speak much better once. I’m pretty sure she means her birth almost killed her mother, and her parents didn’t want to risk it again.”

Una nodded firmly.

“See?” said Karash. “She’ll improve with practice.” He stood up and pointed downhill, along the stream and out of the old charcoal-burners’ camp. “We are going to the village now,” he said, enunciating each word as clearly as he could. “Follow us down the path.” He pointed downwards. “On the ground. Not in the air.”

Una nodded again and vaulted onto Star’s shoulders, stowing her helmet in a bag tied behind the saddle. Ikara sighed but mounted Tsheer without vocal complaint. Karash loaded the last few bits of their makeshift camp into the panniers and, with a bit of help from Rohone’s trunk, climbed up behind his bond-beast’s head. Rohone gave a relaxed sigh and began to walk down the trail, still hauling the now-empty sledge behind him with effortless strength. Every so often he paused to ram shrubs and small trees with his tusks, widening the trail for Star and Tsheer. Neither of the other beasts seemed happy about being stuck on the ground; they weren’t built for walking, and had to crawl awkwardly along on their taloned feet and the claws at the wrist-joints of their wings. Beside them, Swift River grew broader and lazier; up ahead, the trees thinned out as the hillside levelled out into the wide valley floor. Smoke from the chimneys of Crooked River Village reached their nostrils.

“Down here,” said Karash. Rohone grunted an acknowledgement and turned off the trail and down into the deep, mossy depression of a small and long-disused quarry. Una slid down from Star’s back and kicked around in the fallen leaves, uncovering the stone-circled scorch mark of an old fire. “The village youngsters have parties down here sometimes,” Karash explained at her curious look. “You and Ikara stay here. I’m going to go and talk to the village. Rohone will make a sound when you can come out.”

They both nodded. Karash unhooked the sledge from Rohone’s harness, took a deep breath, and rode out of the quarry and towards the village. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary; a breeze stirred the long grass in the fields, while the chime of Ragla’s hammer rang out from her forge. A herd of about twenty shaggy goats trotted out to their pasture, driven along by a little boy in a woollen kilt.

“Hi, Karash!” he said, waving his staff in the air as Rohone plodded closer. Only a few tufts of fur around his shoulders hinted at the cape he would grow as an adult, but his tusks were already half-grown at the corners of his mouth. “I’m herding the goats!”

“So I see,” said Karash, climbing down from the longtusk’s back. “I know you’ve got a very important job, Rekki, but before you head down to the river, can you do me a favour?”

“Like what?”

“Can you go speak to your parents, and tell them that I’d like as many people as possible to gather in the middle of the village? There’s something I need to speak to everyone about.”

“Yeah, I can do that!”

“Good. I’ll keep an eye on the goats for you while you do that.”

“All right. Don’t let them get away!” Rekki shouldered his staff and ran back to his house at the edge of the village. Karash spent a few minutes keeping the very determined goats away from the river until Rekki returned. “They said they’ll gather some people and see you in the meeting-place,” he said with great solemnity.

“Good work,” said Karash. “I’ll let you get back to your herding now.”

“The goats will try and go in the river if I don’t watch them,” said Rekki as if confiding a great secret.

“I noticed,” said Karash. “Go on, now.”

“Bye, Karash!”

Karash watched for a few more seconds until certain the goats were behaving, then sighed and made his way to the meeting-place with Rohone walking steadily behind. Rekki’s parents, Ragla and Chanag the smiths, Fireesh the baker, Jari the council spokesman and most of the other adults in Crooked River Village as well as about half of the youngsters were already waiting for them.

“You’ve been gone for a while,” said Jari. “Where did you and Ikara vanish to?” He looked around. “Come to that, where is Ikara? Didn’t she come back with you?”

“Yes, she did,” said Karash. “She and Tsheer are down in the old quarry, with… Well, that’s what I need to tell you about.” He climbed onto the stepped base of the story-stone, the better to see over the crowd and to let the crowd see him. “But before I start, I will have your words that you will listen to what I have to say, and not run off with your pitchforks halfway through before you have the whole story.”

The villagers shared a few doubtful glances, but Jari nodded. “We will listen,” he said.

“Good.” Karash laid one hand on the story-stone, tracing the carved outline of a dragon with the tip of one claw. “Several days ago, Ikara and Tsheer were flying a routine patrol up near the Grey Watcher when they sighted a creature you would recognise from the songs and the images as a god. A live god, bearing a rider.” A frisson ran through the watching orcs. Jari opened his mouth, but closed it again without speaking.

Karash went on. “Ikara trailed them south from the Grey Watcher, past the Garden of Bones to the cave on Swift River. There, she and I successfully captured both the god and its rider.”

“Are- are the Sky Kings returning?” asked Fireesh, tearing a loaf of bread in her claws. The others shushed her, but Karash shook his head.

“They are not. I spoke with the rider. She and her dragon – the ‘god’, though they are not gods and never were – are here alone, and they say there are very few left in the north. Too few to conquer us again, even if they wanted to.”

“How do you know you can trust this – this rider?” demanded someone at the back of the crowd.

“You swore,” said Karash, “that you would listen.” The mutters subsided, if only mostly. “I have been this village’s Memory-Singer for more than ten years now,” he continued. “I know the stories. I can recite the Dirge of Shattered Earth, the Lament of Chains, the Song of the Silenced Voice and many others besides. I and the other Memory-Singers understand the horrors of the Sky Kings’ reign better than anyone else alive; only those who were there to see them in person could know better. So you know that I don’t speak lightly when I say that I believe the newcomers’ account. They are not Sky Kings – they are descendants of a separate faction, as different as Islanders and Mainlanders – and they are not here to take up their whip. They were sent to find the rest of the dragons, if any remain, and take them back to the north.

“We believe that there may be answers somewhere in the Tempest Spires, beyond the storm. That is why Ikara and I are going to take Una – the rider – and Star – the dragon – to Nirali in the Warren, who knows more about the old powers of the Sky Kings than anyone and may be able to help break through the storm.” Karash folded his hands behind his back. “Any questions?”

“Several,” said Jari into the stunned silence.

“Una may be able to answer some herself,” said Karash, and patted Rohone’s leg. “Make some noise, pal.”

Rohone tossed his head, lashed his trunk from side to side, and let out a trumpet that sent birds scattering from the village roofs. For a few seconds, nothing happened. Jari took his fingers from his ears and looked around.

Leaves rustled in the forest as if stirred by a sudden gust. A few more birds took flight. Karash’s ears cupped forwards; he pressed one fist over his mouth to hide his smile, and two huge shapes erupted from the trees. Ragla and Chanag grabbed Fireesh’s arms to stop her running back to her house in a panic as Star and Tsheer circled out over the village, the rukh close behind the dragon, and landed in the meeting place to either side of the story-stone.

“Was the dramatic entrance really necessary?” Karash asked out of the corner of his mouth. Fireesh, still in the smiths’ hold, seemed to be vibrating with terror; the rest of the villagers were outwardly calmer but still rooted in place, every eye fixed on the dragon.

“Probably not, but it was fun,” said Ikara, propping her forearms across the back of Tsheer’s neck.

Karash sighed. “Now would be a good time to look friendly,” he said to Una in Balaurin.

She nodded, took her helmet off again, and climbed down to the ground. The tense crowd relaxed a little when they saw how small she was. Star sat up on her haunches to inspect Jari’s weathervane, but quickly crouched back down at some unspoken word from her rider.

“My name is Una Falkari Smith,” she said in correct, if somewhat halting Orcish. “This is…” She paused for a moment, frowning, then shook her head and kept going. “This is Star. We are… not danger.”

“Dangerous,” corrected Ikara from Tsheer’s back.

“Not dangerous,” repeated Una. “We look for other dragons. If find, take back to north land.” Her Orcish grammar continued to falter and she lapsed back into Balaurin. “Am I just repeating what you’ve already told them?” she asked.

“Yes, but it’s probably good for them to hear it from you as well,” said Karash. “I might be straining their trust in me a little,” he admitted more quietly. “But nobody’s picked up a spear so – what is she doing?”

Una turned. Star crawled forwards, her nostrils twitching as she picked some scent out of the village’s usual mixture of fires, livestock and people, and stopped in front of Fireesh, who had ceased shaking and was now completely frozen. Star sniffed again, lowered the tip of her snout close to the ground, and delicately snapped up the pieces of the loaf Fireesh had nervously shredded. She gave a slow blink and stepped carefully back to sit beside the stone once more, a soft croon rumbling in her throat.

Una rolled her eyes and roughly combed her fingers through her short red hair. “Star say,” she said, in Orcish again, “‘very good bread’.”

The villagers collectively released the breath they had been holding. Jari gave a nervous laugh. Fireesh moved for the first time in a couple of minutes. “Um. Thank you?”

“We’ll set out for the Warren the day after tomorrow,” said Ikara, still on Tsheer’s back. She climbed down, gave the rukh’s neck a scratch, and headed for their home. “We’ll need more supplies for the trip, and I want to sleep in my own house for a couple of nights.”

“Will you be staying with Karash and Ikara?” Jari asked Una with great politeness.

“Yes, they will,” said Karash when Una just looked blank. “Apart from anything else, we’re the only ones with enough room in our barn for the dragon.” He looked up just as Rekki sprinted into the meeting place, waving his staff in the air. “In the meantime,” said Karash with a sigh, “I think we’re going to have to fish some goats out of the river.”

~~~

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