Here comes LW2! Ugh it’s actually pretty well written in-game (some minor nitpicking about logistics aside) but it was actually a pain to write? It’s probably because I’m losing steam. I’ve started on LW3 in-game and so far that’s been fun! I don’t know if I’ll have the interest to write the sequel starring Damara just yet but if I decide I just don’t have the interest then I’ll put down my ideas at the end of the last chapter of this story.

With this chapter I tried to make clear more how the PCs are involved in the Pact in the Silverwastes. It felt a little in the game like the Pact Commander shows up well after Trahearne’s already got everything underway, which seems irresponsible. I also felt the final attack needed more explaining, it seems a bit hare-brained in game. Also on a character-driven note, Caoilfhionn cries when he tops but as a bottom he’s more mischievous. ;D I did use a soundtrack for the final dragon fight, Chasing Daybreak.

Thank you Tharash for beta-reading! “Can I call your plant romance ‘sappy’?”

I’ve been getting slowly more and more invested in Critical Role and I’m really upset about Molly, how dare he be so beautiful and fun and kind and also dead.

Contents:
– 1: A Leader Will Die
– 2: The Eternal Alchemy
– 3: Gathering the Cast
– 4: The Dragon’s Reach
– 5: The Silverwastes
– 6: Caithe
– 7: A Fleet of Airships

Part 4: The Day the World Ended

 

Part 5: The Dragon’s Reach

1: A Leader Will Die

Taimi was in a good mood as she puttered about Scarlet’s student room, rushing from object to object as quickly as her body would let her. “Do you realize the historical significance of this whole find?” She picked up a gear, turned it over rapidly, put it down and flipped through a pile of notebooks beside it. “Not to mention the salvage rights. I’ll be writing papers, treatises, and dissertations on this until I’m eighty!”

“I don’t understand the thrill,” Caoilfhionn said, smiling at her excitement. The others had gone out to look for someone who could tell them what Scarlet was doing here particularly, but he’d lingered, interested in her work for his own sake. She’d been insane, but she’d been Sylvari, and she’d had incredible insights into magical theory even in her insanity – those two things drew him, even if unwillingly, to be curious. But not as much as Taimi, with her obsession.

“Well, no,” Taimi said, as if she would be smug but she didn’t have time. “Of course you wouldn’t. Being… you. But for an Asura, this is the find of a lifetime.”

He knelt down next to her. “All I ask is that you handle it with a gentle heart.”

She gave him a scornful look. “Whatever does that mean? My heart has nothing to do with it. I will apply my mind.”

“I mean be sympathetic. She was a person, like you.” Not a research object. From what he saw, young Ceara had not been necessarily evil, or insane, just… wilful. And incredibly selfish, but… She deserved respect for who she had been, before. And compassion, for what she had lost.

Taimi looked at him again, and this time it was unwontedly serious. “No. She was a person like you. If she had been born Asura, with a strong Asuran mind, she might not have fallen into madness. But she was Sylvari, and therefore… prone to listening to her heart.”

What could he say to that?

---

Hope’s Legacy appeared around the Prosperity Waypoint, ready for action. Braham had sent Annhilda a note after two weeks of silence, saying there’d been trouble, and Annhilda had grabbed whoever was near her – Rhyoll, Wegaff, and Caoilfhionn, and dragged them out of the giant construction yard that was Lion’s Arch at present and to the nearest waypoint. Braham was waiting for them. “Good, you got my pigeon. It looks pretty bad. We gotta check on Taimi.”

“When did this happen?” Annhilda said, and they all stared at Prosperity in horror.

“I’m going to say early this morning,” Braham said grimly. “I got a note from one of the Zephyrites a few hours ago, and I passed it on as soon as I did. Took me all this time to get here, myself. Come on, let’s go in.”

Caoilfhionn could barely force his feet to move. It was not the first time he’d seen those vines, and nothing could ever compare to seeing Lion’s Arch destroyed, but he hadn’t expected this. He was angry with himself – he felt like he should not be so stunned, that he should have seen enough horrors that nothing should phase him again, and yet!

Huge green vines, with fat thorns the length of his arm, had burst through the town, through the solid rock of the cliffs, pulverizing stone buildings, tearing apart wooden scaffoldings. Worse, half the villagers had been killed – crushed in the coils of the vines, strangled, impaled upon thorns. The survivors were wandering in shock, some weeping, others staring blankly. The vines curled in the breeze, but they did not appear active – and yet their very presence was an imminent threat.

“Spirits,” Annhilda said in a low voice. “This is awful. Taimi!”

They dashed to the building Taimi had been studying in, and saw Scruffy in the corner, closed and still. “Taimi!” Braham shouted. “Are you here?”

“I’m here,” Taimi’s voice came quavering out of the golem. “I’m okay. Scruffy protected me. Are you all okay?”

“Phew,” Braham said, trying to laugh off his anxiety. “Yeah, we’re okay too.”

“What happened?” Rhyoll said, looking at the ceiling, where a corner of the building had been crumbled away.

“Everything started to shake,” Taimi said, popping the cover of her golem and peeking out. “I barely had time to get into Scruffy.”

Footfalls sounded outside, and Rox came panting in. “Is she okay, Braham?”

“Yeah, she’s okay,” Braham said. “She hid in her golem.”

“I didn’t hide!” Taimi cried indignantly. “I was collecting important data.”

“Uh-huh,” said Braham, who didn’t care.

More footsteps. “Did I hear you said Taimi’s okay?” Kasmeer asked, Marjory behind her.

“I’m fiiiine,” Taimi said, pouting. “Golly.”

“I feel like the whole world is falling out from under us,” Marjory said grimly.

“I think we all feel that way,” Caoilfhionn said softly. “We’ve got a new dragon to contend with.”

“It’s confirmed, then?” Rox said. “Do you know which one?”

“It’s obvious, isn’t it?” Wegaff said.

“It’s Mordremoth,” Caoilfhionn said, sharing a glance with Wegaff. They’d talked about it at length and come to the conclusion that it could be no other. The fact that the vines they’d fought before had showed signs of dragon magic, the fact that their trail had led them west to the borders of the Deep Maguuma Jungle, where no one had gone for centuries and returned to tell of it, it could only mean that the Jungle Dragon was moving in the world. Wegaff had done the analysis, putting hard evidence behind Caoilfhionn’s intuition. “Mordremoth did this. And it’s only just starting.”

“M-M-Mordremoth!?” Kasmeer stammered, and hiccoughed – she hadn’t done that in a long time.

Marjory frowned. “Raises the stakes to a whole new level of awful, doesn’t it?”

“Gods, we need a plan,” Kasmeer said faintly. “What are we going to do?”

“You really think all these vines are related to Mordremoth?” Rox asked. “All these deaths?”

Annhilda looked at Wegaff and Caoilfhionn, who both nodded. “We’re certain. But we’re going to keep following Scarlet’s trail for now.”

“Scarlet believed she had seen the bigger picture,” Marjory said. “It was part of her delusion. I don’t think bringing down the Zephyrites was part of Scarlet’s plan, but both she and the saboteur…”

“Talked about the destruction of Tyria.” Annhilda nodded. “I know.”

“Aerin said a Tyrian leader would die, on that note we found on him,” said Kasmeer. “This makes me think someone – or something – was pulling his strings. That scares me the most about him.”

“Trouble is, we have no idea who he meant,” Rhyoll said, poking the steam minotaur head on the desk.

“It could be anyone, though the biggest threat to Mordremoth is probably Trahearne,” Kasmeer said. “I hate the thought that Queen Jennah could be in danger, too.”

“He said several other strange things, too, from what you told me,” Wegaff said.

“Hm, maybe we should change the subject?” Annhilda said, with a glance at Caoilfhionn. “I think we’ve given Trahearne’s mate a scare.”

“I-I’m fine,” Caoilfhionn said unconvincingly. Of course Trahearne would be a target – it was no secret that he led the Pact, and that the Pact had brought down Zhaitan. True, Hope’s Legacy and Destiny’s Edge had also been prominent in that endeavour, so they could all be targets, but in that moment he saw Trahearne in his mind as if lit by a spotlight, alone and defenseless…

“He’s in no more danger than the rest of us,” Marjory said reasonably. “It’s all right, Caoilfhionn. He has the Pact around him, and he’s smart. Don’t look so haunted.”

“I’m fine,” Caoilfhionn said again, breathing a bit more. “Forgive me. I just can’t bear to think of something happening to him.”

“I know that feeling,” Kasmeer said, and she and Marjory looked at each other with a little smile.

“And we’ll be there to help, won’t we?” Braham clapped Caoilfhionn on the shoulder, sending him stumbling forward a little. “Sorry, forgot how flimsy you are again.”

“Okay,” Annhilda said. “We know who we’re dealing with, even if we don’t quite know what it’s capable of yet. Taimi, what have you found?”

---

Caoilfhionn trotted up to the gate of Caer Avel at Fort Trinity. “Hello! Is he busy right now?”

“He’s always busy, but you’re to go in anyway,” said the Whispers Asura guard, with an eyeroll that said ‘as usual, why do you even ask anymore, these are the least useful orders we have’.

He laughed. “Thank you.” He headed over to Trahearne’s office-tent, trying not to radiate anxiety. Trahearne didn’t need to sense that off him.

Trahearne was pacing slowly back and forth behind his desk, but he looked up and smiled at Caoilfhionn’s approach. “Hello, beloved. How are you?”

“I’m… well,” Caoilfhionn said, trying not to blurt out all his worries at once. “How are you?”

Trahearne sighed. “There’s next to nothing about Mordremoth in the Priory archives. Even asking Gixx and Ogden has not borne fruit. I’m wondering what angle I should tackle next. Would you like some tea? Wine?”

“Tea sounds lovely,” Caoilfhionn said, taking a seat on a camp stool next to the desk. One of the fort’s cats jumped on his lap, and he petted her absently.

The silence was more awkward for him than it normally was. He was glad of the cat occupying his restless hands, looking up at the seagulls crying overhead in the warm sun, breathing in the sea air that he missed, trying to release his tension now that he was here with his love as he wished to be.

Trahearne set a cup of tea in front of him and sat down with his own cup. “What’s on your mind? You seem anxious.”

“I knew I couldn’t hide anything from you,” Caoilfhionn said ruefully, bidding farewell to the cat, “not that I was trying very hard. Trahearne… I’m worried about you.”

“About me?” Trahearne leaned forward, yellow eyes filled with concern. “Why?”

“You remember the mad Soundless who destroyed the Zephyrite fleet, Aerin… He had a note on him saying ‘a leader will die’.”

“I remember.”

“Well… Kasmeer pointed out the last time we met that the greatest threat to Mordremoth… is probably you. And that you might be therefore a target.”

“Logical.” Trahearne sipped his tea, his gaze reaching into the distance. “I knew I would be a target the moment I became Marshal. Not even solely from the dragons – a position of this power is not without its dangers from other Tyrians, for several reasons. Though not necessarily lethal ones…”

“I didn’t think of that,” Caoilfhionn said wretchedly. “I didn’t think of any of that. I-”

Trahearne reached out and covered his hand with his own. The ring sparkled on his finger. “If you had known, would you have told me not to take it?”

“…No.” He relaxed, glancing at his love with a look of adoration and pride. “No. You are still the only one who could do all this. And I’m so proud of you. Just… be careful of the dragons, too.”

“I will,” Trahearne promised, lacing their fingers together. “Try not to worry about me as a target. I am aware of the danger. And you must be careful as well. I am surrounded by the Pact, by loyal allies who have become friends, but I worry about you, too – running about Tyria, always on the front lines of conflicts everywhere…”

It was an abbreviation of old discussions they’d had, about Caoilfhionn’s active role in the world, and not one he ever had a ready answer to. “I understand. I will be careful.”

“Now drink your tea, you haven’t touched it yet.”

Caoilfhionn laughed and did so. “And it would be remiss of me to leave you without so much as a kiss, wouldn’t it?”

“Indeed it would,” Trahearne said gravely, reaching out his arms to him.

---

2: The Eternal Alchemy

Dry Top was a strangely exquisite place, full of hidden wonders, once you got past its dusty and barren surface. Of course Caoilfhionn loved the oasis, to see sunbeams shooting down between great branches of the palms that reached towards the canyon banks, the sudden lush misty atmosphere after the dreadful parched feeling the rest of the valley had, the pink moas with their shining feathers, the kindly skritt and his little garden.

But there was more – and besides the soft sweeps of wind-carved red sandstone, or the towering majesty of the great pillars of harder stone. The ley line cavern was like nothing he’d ever seen before, and the first time he saw it, his breath was completely stolen away. The shimmers of magic dancing through the cool air, delighting his soul, was only the final layer of enchantment of the cavern’s beauty. He could hardly sum up in words how amazing it was. Kasmeer agreed with him, and he was glad to have someone who knew how he felt.

It had been some weeks, though, since they’d left Taimi in the Cavern of Shining Lights, and many terrible things had happened in that short time. Fort Concordia and Fort Salma had fallen to Mordremoth’s vines, shattered from within, and Marjory’s sister Belinda was dead. But their quest continued, and so Annhilda and all of Hope’s Legacy except Marjory assembled at the Cavern with Taimi and Wegaff, who had been studying the place.

Taimi, in Scruffy, led them eagerly to a great cavern on the western side, round as a dome, with a strange low black pyramid in the centre and a great floating cube overhead. “This is so amazing!” Taimi gushed, pointing inside the pyramid to a… Caoilfhionn couldn’t tell what was in there. A low platform in the middle, which looked sort of like a very hard bed, surrounded by strange emitters that still glowed a little. “Looky look look! Can you believe your eyes?”

They all stared. Rox spoke first. “Uhhhh. What is it?”

Taimi clucked. “It’s Omadd’s machine, you simpleton.”

“Hey,” Braham scolded her. “Rude.”

“Sorry,” Taimi said. “But it’s the very device that showed Scarlet the Eternal Alchemy. It still works!”

“We think,” Wegaff put in. “Everything appears to be functional, but we have not tested it, of course. Though not for someone’s lack of attempting recklessly.” He coughed and did not look at Taimi.

“Can I blow it up?” Rhyoll asked. “That thing’s gotta be dangerous.”

“Absolutely not!” Taimi cried indignantly. “Think about what we could learn. Besides, my mind is far more resilient than Scarlet’s was.”

“How do you know?” Damara said. “We could have a crazy Asura running around next.”

“I’ve been reading her notebooks, duh.”

“Umm, I don’t think you should mess with it,” Kasmeer said nervously. “I’m inclined to agree with Rhyoll. What do you think?”

Annhilda bent over and peered at it from outside, hands on her hips. “It looks like Scarlet added to it. Some of the parts look different, newer.”

“Yes, I recognize Omadd’s work,” Phiadi said. “Wait, if she rebuilt it, did she go in it again? Sheesh. Should’ve quit while you were ahead, lady.”

Rhyoll growled. “That makes me even more nervous. What exactly do you know about this device?”

Wegaff cleared his throat. “It was allegedly designed to affect the mind, to open it to new awareness. Scarlet wrote that when she got into it, she claimed she saw what we Asura call the Eternal Alchemy.”

“What else?” Annhilda asked.

“It broke Scarlet’s mind,” said Kasmeer. “After she used it, she was never the same. It’s as if it opened the door to insanity.”

“She committed her first murder after using it and escalated quickly after that,” Wegaff said.

“Yes. This machine started her on a very dark path,” Caoilfhionn said.

“So what are we going to do?” asked Kasmeer. “We can’t let Taimi near it.”

Damara nodded. “For her own good, I agree-”

“Taimi!” barked Rhyoll, and they turned to see Scruffy slip through the opening on the side of the pyramid.

“Oh no!” cried Kasmeer. “We have to-” A wave of energy emitted from the machine, knocking them all back.

Rox bounced up, hurrying back forward. “Don’t touch anything. We don’t know what – Taimi!”

Taimi screamed, and Caoilfhionn could not tell if it was a scream of pain or excitement, but either way – they could not let her subject herself to these unknown horrors, even if she were eager to! He ran forward, ducking as another wave of energy blasted out from it.

“Can’t get close,” cried Braham. “That thing is shooting off too much lightning.”

Caoilfhionn had skidded, but he hadn’t been sent head-over-heels like he had the first time; he threw his own shield of lightning around him, hoping it would protect him. Kasmeer saw what he was doing and added her powers to his, doubly protecting him. He charged into the chamber, past everyone else’s anxious shouts, grabbed Scruffy’s arm, and threw all his body weight into it. The golem weighed many times as much as he did, and he had no business moving it, but he’d found the right torque and put magic into it, and Scruffy went tumbling out of the door again.

But then the emitters in the chamber, glowing brightly, fired all at once-

---

He was surrounded by… by darkness filled with lights, all coming at him too fast to take in, and yet slow, as if he were wading through deep water, stumbling along an invisible road in a void of blue and green and black. Ahead of him was the brightest light of all, filled with patterns he could… almost… make out…

It was his Mother! Beautiful, strong, symmetrical, she seemed to beckon to him – and then he was falling, falling swiftly, into her, through her…

He and she were joined, at the centre of Tyria, and the dragons orbited them. He could see everything, as if he were no longer flesh and bone but a spirit – a god, even. For an instant, he almost understood-

There was a growl that shook the foundations of his perception, and Mordremoth dove out of orbit, hurtling towards him-

He heard a cry in his mind. “Caoilfhionn! Caoilfhionn!”

“Mother!” he called back, reaching out, he didn’t know where. “Help me!”

He had the sensation of warm, soft petals closing about him, embracing and protecting him, just before something like gigantic teeth snapped at his heels. And yet those teeth were so much stronger than the petals…

And the world became a poisonous green.

---

Awareness was a strange beast – one moment he was experiencing the entire cosmos, filled with unimaginable terror and elation, and the next he felt a cool dry sandy floor beneath him, and the voices of his friends overhead.

“Hey!” Annhilda was calling him. “Caoilfhionn, are you okay?”

“I think he’s dead,” Braham said from further back.

“What? No.” Kasmeer sounded indignant. “He’s alive. Don’t be silly.”

“Don’t even joke about that,” Damara said. “Oh, Gods, he doesn’t have a pulse!” He felt her fingers on his wrist, then his neck.

“Sylvari don’t have a pulse,” Annhilda reminded her.

“Oh, right…”

He opened his eyes, carefully. “I’m… I’m all right. I don’t appear to be dead, at least.”

“Oh, thank the Gods,” Damara said. “We were so scared.”

“Tell us everything!” Taimi shouted from atop Scruffy. “What did you see?”

“Take it slow,” Rox said. “Once it had you, we were afraid to just yank you out.”

“Then you started screaming, and we had no choice,” Kasmeer said.

He sat up, and Annhilda helped him. “Take deep breaths,” she said. “Relax. We got you.”

“It was incredible,” he gasped out, shaking.

“What was? What are you talking about?” Annhilda sat down beside him, keeping him grounded against her body as if he had hypothermia, and the others clustered in closer until she glared at them to give him some breathing space.

“I had a vision. I saw it. The Eternal Alchemy.” He knew he sounded like a raving lunatic and yet nothing mattered but getting the words out as swiftly as he could.

“You what?” Phiadi demanded.

“You’re going to have to explain,” Rox said. “We don’t understand.”

“I’ll try,” he said, staring at his outstretched hands as if they could help him. He hadn’t even perceived that he had hands while in the vision. “I saw how Tyria is woven, and… I’m tied up in it. Somehow.”

“Okay, I think you need to rest a while,” Damara said, overly gently. “Do you hurt anywhere?”

“Do you think he’s lost it?” Phiadi muttered to Wegaff. “Think he’s gone like Scarlet?”

“Maybe we shouldn’t have stuck another Sylvari in there,” Wegaff muttered back.

He mustered his strength, sitting up straight and staring intensely at them. “Listen. Vast energies flow through and around Tyria, and I saw a dragon. It… um…” The terror came back to him in a flood, and he swallowed.

“It what?” Braham said. “What did you see?”

“It was part of the workings of the world,” Caoilfhionn stammered out. “It came at me.”

“That sounds like a terrible nightmare,” Kasmeer said sympathetically.

“If it hadn’t been for my Mother – I saw the Pale Tree at the heart of a vast moving puzzle.”

“Like Scarlet,” Phiadi said.

“Yes… But she protected me. She called out to me.”

“What do you think that means?” Taimi said eagerly.

Finally, his shaking was starting to subside. “It means we need to talk to her.”

“What can she do?” Rox asked. “She’s a tree.”

“She’s the Pale Tree,” Caoilfhionn said, smiling. “She’s magical beyond imagining. She can access the Dream.”

“And what exactly will that do?” Taimi asked, making notes.

“Er… I’m not sure yet. But she will surely know a little more than we do now.”

“All right,” Annhilda said. “Sounds good to me. In fact, let’s get all the leaders of Tyria in. Knut, Queen Jennah, Trahearne, everyone. It’s time to talk about Mordremoth.”

“We’ll have to have them meet at the Grove, then,” Damara said. “She can’t exactly go anywhere, can she?”

“She has an avatar which she can project to talk with us her children within the Grove,” Caoilfhionn said, “though she mainly keeps to the Omphalos Chamber – she has too many children to speak to all at once.” He managed to laugh. “But I don’t know that she can send it traveling, no.”

“Then we drag the bear out of his den, and nicer invitations for everyone else,” Annhilda said. “Who’s staying with Taimi?”

“Thank you for realizing I’m not going anywhere,” Taimi said.

“I am, again,” Wegaff said. “Caoilfhionn, I’m going to need you to give me as detailed an account of your… experience as you can before you go, because I’ve got a new theory about dragon magic and it’s not a pleasant one.”

“I will do my best,” Caoilfhionn said sombrely.

“Everyone who wants to help chivvy world leaders, we’ll meet at the Grove tomorrow,” Annhilda said. “Caoilfhionn, you better rest. See you all later.”

---

Caoilfhionn led his friends towards the Omphalos Chamber, but nearly all of them stayed below. Only Annhilda, as his guild leader, came with him. Warden Lochin gestured them forward with a most warm welcome.

“My child,” said the Pale Tree. “What a delight to see you looking so well.”

“Hello, Mother!” Caoilfhionn said, bowing; Annhilda copied him. “I am glad to see you too.”

“It is a joy to see you again. Your visits seem to grow longer apart with each passing season.”

“For me too, Mother. But I have been very busy. This is my guild leader, Annhilda.”

“Greetings, Annhilda,” said the Tree. “You are most welcome here. I hear you take good care of my son.”

“He’s a valued member of our guild, and a good friend,” Annhilda said. “Thanks.”

“But tell me, what brings you here seeking my counsel?”

“Two things,” Caoilfhionn said. “First, I had a vision. You figured prominently in it.”

Her large expressive eyes widened. “I’m intrigued. Tell me more. What was it about? Where did you have this vision?”

“In an Asuran device Scarlet used to see the Eternal Alchemy. I saw it too.”

Distress crossed her face. “What dangers have you been toying with? Such things were not meant to be seen. They will crack your mind.”

“Do you not remember it yourself?” he asked anxiously. “I heard your voice, and called out for you.”

The Pale Tree knelt before him to look into his eyes. “Well, my child, the one thing you must never forget is that I stand between you and the greatest darkness you’ll ever know. A vast darkness intent on consuming all that we hold dear.”

“What do you mean, Mother?”

“There are those who reject my protection. It leaves them vulnerable in ways they cannot imagine, in ways they never were before.” She shook her head, and pollen fell from her petals in a faint sparkling shimmer. “I shield you as best I can, and will for as long as I can.”

“I know, Mother, and I love you for it.” He smiled at her, then remembered. “But wait – you’re talking about dragon corruption. We’re immune to it, aren’t we?”

“Yes, in the past, my children have been immune. But Mordremoth’s corruption is powerful, and just as Zhaitan created the undead from so many creatures, so Mordremoth’s corruption can change you.”

That sent a chill through him like nothing else. “Is that what happened to Scarlet?”

“I believe she opened herself to it when she let down the wall of her mind. Mordremoth’s corruption seeps in through the cracks in our willpower. Do not follow in her footsteps.”

“I won’t, Mother. I will be on my guard.”

“Yes, I know.” She smiled and stood again. “So tell me, what is the second half of your quest here today?”

“We need to discuss Mordremoth’s activities,” Annhilda said, and summarized all they’d witnessed in the last few weeks. “It’s reaching incredibly far, incredibly soon – Scarlet only woke it up a couple months ago. I recommend getting the world’s leaders to join ranks against it now, while it’s still sleep-addled.”

“I see,” the Tree said gravely. “A summit, then. I could host such a gathering, if you can convince them to come. Who do you plan to invite?”

“Knut Whitebear, of course. And a leader from each of the other races.”

“And Trahearne, as Marshal of the Pact,” Caoilfhionn put in.

The Tree smiled. “Of course. He has been away even longer than you have. Though I imagine he will not be able to stay long. But I will leave it in your hands while I prepare here. I am glad you brought this to me. I am happy to help you.”

“Thank you so much, Mother,” Caoilfhionn said. “We’ll get it done.”

---

3: Gathering the Cast

“Whoo, yeah!” Braham cheered, cavorting through the snow and the ice. “I’d almost forgotten what it was like to fight in the cold. It’s invigorating!”

“It’s good to fight with fellow Norn, and thrash some Svanir scum,” Annhilda said. “It’s been too long since I did that.” Her thoughts turned to her younger brother, who used to compete with her on hunting expeditions. She’d be able to outhunt him twice over now. She hoped he didn’t feel too overshadowed. But anyway.

“Well done, Braham,” Eir said warmly. “That was impressive.”

Braham immediately blushed and stumbled. “Uh. Thanks. That was the first time I’ve ever seen you fight. I guess the legends are true.”

Eir blushed too, and mother and son stood dumbly, avoiding eye contact. “Oh. Thank you. Um.” Annhilda smirked. The ice between them was melting, slowly, but unstoppably, like the spring thaw in Wanderer’s Foothills. In time, they’d be closer than she had ever been to her family.

“Yeah. Umm. So.”

“So… who else is starving?” Eir cried. Garm jumped and barked. “Besides you, Garm, haha!”

Braham laughed too. “I could eat a whole dolyak… and its harness!”

“I could eat two dolyaks,” Annhilda said, elbowing him.

Eir snorted. “Let’s head back to Hoelbrak, and we can celebrate with a feast. What do you say?”

“I say that sounds like a fantastic idea,” Braham said.

“I’ll be there for sure,” Annhilda said. “And you’ll let me talk to Knut, right?”

“Absolutely,” Eir said. “You don’t have to wait for me to do that, do you? But I’ll back you up when you go. And thank you for destroying the totem.”

“We’re always happy to send Svanir home crying,” Braham said. “Even if it wasn’t for a greater cause.”

“That’s exactly how I feel,” Eir said, smiling at her son.

Braham ducked his head, but he was grinning. “…Yeah.”

“Let’s start heading back to Hoelbrak,” Annhilda said. “We’ve got a lot of ground to cover, and I’m just going to be more hungry by the time we get back!”

---

Divinity’s Reach was as splendid as it had ever been – and Caoilfhionn was dressed for the occasion, for Damara, Kasmeer, and he were going to a party! But it was no idle party for relaxation. There was intrigue afoot, and Damara, who didn’t interact with the nobles if she could help it, had asked for his help. But he’d never seen his guildmate so handsomely dressed, no longer in her usual scaled leather, but a poofy blue silk shirt with a striking gold vest over top, black pants, and tall boots. Caoilfhionn himself was wearing the elaborate outfit Blathnat had gifted him after he had helped defeat Zhaitan, and Kasmeer looked as lovely as she always did.

At the behest of Countess Anise, they were looking for someone who was spreading ugly rumours about Queen Jennah, but as they approached the countess, Caoilfhionn was shocked to see the terrorist Secondborn Canach with her, armed and armoured, leaning against a pillar behind her with his arms folded forbiddingly. Countess Anise seemed completely at ease with his presence, and welcomed them warmly. “Kasmeer! Come over here. Don’t look so glum. Hello, dear. Don’t worry your little face over what the herald’s papers say. You’ll always be a noble in my eyes.”

Kasmeer looked a little shocked for a moment. “Countess Anise. That’s direct… and kind of you to say. I’m afraid I don’t feel particularly noble.”

Caoilfhionn waited a moment for the others to get deeper into their conversation, then turned to Canach. Damara could tell him anything he missed. “And what are you doing here?”

Canach gave him a mocking smile. “I’m on the job. Bodyguard for a countess. A somewhat more glamourous position than my last, I must say.”

Caoilfhionn frowned with confusion. “You mean your position… as prisoner?”

Canach scowled. “Yes, and thanks for stating the obvious, painful truth. Technically, I’m still a prisoner. It’s just now my bars are lined with velvet. Don’t let that fool you, though. I’m definitely not free.”

“Are you planning on behaving yourself?”

The mocking smile returned. “Absolutely. I’m no fool, sapling. I could be in a much worse situation than this. I guess you could say I learned my lesson. I know I have a reputation for acting rashly, but those days are behind me.”

“Pardon me if I don’t entirely believe you.”

“No pardon necessary. You’re in a crowd of many watching me like hawks. So far, Countess Anise has treated me with respect. I have no reason to betray her trust. Besides, she amuses me mightily.”

Caoilfhionn took a step closer. “I’ll be at the front of the hunting party if you mess this up.”

Canach’s smile widened. “I would expect no less, though I do believe you might have a hard time catching me again. No offense intended.”

Caoilfhionn gave him one last glare and went to catch up with Damara, who had already started heading off with Kasmeer. “Anything I should know about?”

“Nothing new,” Damara said. “Just keep your ears open, around ministers, about ministers, anything to do with ministers.”

“One of them is our culprit, and we have to catch them and discredit them,” Kasmeer said. “I’ll be behind you, watching for liars.”

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Damara said to Caoilfhionn. “I hate these sorts of things.”

He smiled. “I think it’s quite exciting. Not in the same way as a fight, of course.”

“Oh Gods, it’s not exciting at all, and this mission is exactly the kind of stressful that I hate. Go on, be a social butterfly, I’ll buy you… um…”

“Wine?” he teased, eyes dancing. He didn’t lack for wine when he wished for it, but he also liked gifts, so…

“Sure! Have at it. I’ll try not to mess things up on my end.”

They passed that particular noble, the handsome, rather gormless one, Lord Faren, who accosted them with a beaming smile. “Ah, Damara! You fancy up nicely when you knock the dirt off your boots! Although, the tough adventurer look suits you.”

“Thanks, Lord Faren,” Damara said flatly.

“Mind, beware the ministers. They’re on the prowl.”

“Great,” Damara said. “Why can’t they just get along for one party?”

Faren laughed lightly. “Humans. What can I say? We’re an inscrutable race. Turn half the world against us, and we still find ways to argue amongst ourselves. Frankly, I think it’s boredom that makes us do it.”

“And what are you doing here, if you’re not looking to argue like the others?” Damara asked.

“Me? Oh, I’m just here for the delicious desserts and ladies. I’m eyeing a few of both, but I can’t quite decide which I’m hungry for.”

“Ugh!” Damara said, and stalked off abruptly.

“W-wait – Damara? Where are you going?”

“Choose wisely,” Caoilfhionn said, smoothly filling the gap in the conversation. “Too much of either can give you a bellyache.”

Faren chuckled, Damara already forgotten. “Truer words were never spoken. Have a good time at the party!”

“Thank you,” Caoilfhionn said, and offered him a slight bow.

“What’s the matter, do you dislike him so?” he asked Damara, hurrying to catch up with her.

Damara sighed and rolled her eyes. “No, he’s harmless, I just despise how flighty he is. And I can’t understand how new women keep letting him near them with his reputation. Naivety?”

“I don’t understand any of it,” Caoilfhionn said mildly. “To fall in love with so many… is that truly love?”

“No, it probably isn’t,” Kasmeer said. “But then, Sylvari probably don’t have the same psychology that humans do. Speaking if which… perhaps you’d better brace yourself.”

“For what-”

He quickly found that he stood out more than he’d intended to, and people just gravitated towards him, particularly women – he was beautiful and exotic and looked wealthy, and that was all most of them needed. Under ordinary circumstances, he would have been more than happy to simply chatter at the centre of such a large circle, making all sorts of new acquaintance, learning what they thought about all sorts of inconsequential things – for inconsequential things added spice to life! But not tonight; and indeed, tonight so many of them wanted to talk to him about things that were definitely not about political scandal, and even telling the forward ones that he was married only put off a couple of them. “Goodness, my dear Marisa, surely you’re not trying to lead me into scandal myself?” The fair Marisa only tittered, as did many of those around her, and batted her eyelashes more. They didn’t understand his bond, and probably never would no matter how many times he tried to explain, so he moved on, ostensibly in search of pastries.

A circle of ministers did give him some relief, and a chance to tease some information out of them, under the guise of laughter and the topic of gardening. Caoilfhionn was further amused, every time he walked by Canach, to hear his fellow Sylvari becoming more and more bored and disgruntled.

“Am I to intimidate these ministers and aristocrats, to put them off guard? …Surely you can’t imagine that these dandies pose some kind of threat to you.” And a while later: “If there’s nothing in particular you need me to do, would you mind if I helped myself to some of your refreshments?”

“Hmph.” Anise remained in an air of contemplation, ignoring her companion entirely.

“Am I really so dull? Well, here’s something interesting. Would you like to know how long a severed head remains conscious? …I suppose not. Do let me know if you need me for more than making debutantes and fops uncomfortable.”

Caoilfhionn continued circulating, not exactly made uncomfortable by Canach’s declarations, but irritated, hoping no one would be prejudiced against him thanks to his fellow Sylvari’s actions. But still he had to smile and laugh and glitter, ask innocent questions and get less-innocent answers, and he played his part well, though with more effort than normal.

He was closing in on their suspect when he heard Canach yet again. “In absence of your orders, I’ve been occupying myself by planning the extermination of this entire gaggle of preening fools. I’d thought maybe some well-placed bombs here and there among the topiary, hm? Or perhaps I’ll pick them off one by one with my blade. And hide the bodies in the pantry. I wonder, would that reflect poorly on your office? I imagine I’d become a hero to the Krytan people. …And still no reaction. I wonder, Countess, are you even at all with me?”

“Mmm?”

Caoilfhionn gave him another glare, no longer even a little amused, to which Canach coolly stared back. He wasn’t particularly worried that Canach would follow through – there was no way he would reveal his plans before executing them. He was, even as he said, just trying to get a rise out of Anise. It was just… uncouth to speak so.

Still, he had uncovered enough for Damara to draw the trap shut about Minister Estelle, and then withdrew to where the real Countess Anise had been waiting. Canach joined them a minute later, after the Countess had congratulated them on helping Queen Jennah help them.

“Ah, there you are, Countess. I trust I played my part in your charade this evening?”

Anise laughed. “There, there, blossom. You did very well as the sore green thumb at my affair. I’m sure everyone was far too intimidated by your glowering menace to notice it was an illusion standing beside you the whole time.”

Canach smiled toothily. “Yes, I thought you seemed rather vapid.” If Anise were offended by that, she gave no sign.

“And Queen Jennah can come for certain?” Damara asked eagerly.

“Yes, of course. I’ll be there as well, though… incognito.”

“Thank goodness,” Damara said. “Well, thanks for inviting us – the food was good, even if the rest of the party was stressful.”

“It was highly entertaining,” Caoilfhionn put in.

“Of course, pet. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

---

Knut Whitebear was coming to the summit, thanks to Annhilda, Braham, and Eir. Queen Jennah was coming to the summit, thanks to Damara, Kasmeer, and Caoilfhionn. Imperator Smodur was coming to the summit, thanks to Rhyoll and Rox. All that was left was the Arcane Council, but between Taimi, Wegaff, and Phiadi, they still had not swayed Councillor Phlunt to behave in the interests of the greater good.

So all of Hope’s Legacy was present in the Cavern of Shining Lights as Taimi prepared to demonstrate her completed Waypoint Recalibration Device, though… Caoilfhionn wondered if that might not be any more effective than they’d already been. Unless they wanted Braham and Rox to try intimidating the councillor… which would probably be a bad idea. Caoilfhionn had already heard bad things about Phlunt’s attitude from Wegaff, and Mabbran, who had stopped by to visit Phiadi, actually privately said to him: “If I could drop him over a cliff, I don’t think anyone would miss him. I’d drop his whole party, actually.”

And yet he was still not prepared for how callous, how greedy, how utterly outrageous Phlunt was. He cowered while the Mordrem attacked, while the others protected him and all his equally-arrogant and equally-cowardly cohort, and while they protected Taimi, more importantly. But the moment that everything hostile was dead, he cautiously lifted an ear and an eye… “Is it safe to emerge? You’re sure – absolutely sure – that there aren’t any more coming?”

“I’m sure,” Annhilda said, impatiently. “The big one was the last one.”

Phlunt straightened, adjusting his robes haughtily. “Yes, well… the big one, as you so quaintly put it, may have friends.”

“There won’t be more,” Wegaff said, pointing at their miniature waypoint models. “We successfully recalibrated all the waypoints.”

“So as you can see, Councillor Phlunt, my device will save the entire waypoint network,” Taimi said. “You can thank me now, and later.”

“Was this demonstration to your satisfaction?” asked Annhilda.

Phlunt grinned and cackled a little. “Yes, I believe it was. The waypoints are protected. Wonderful!”

“So you will agree to come to the Grove summit?” Braham asked.

“Not so fast, my muscular friend.” Phlunt held up a cautionary hand. “In light of this new development, I have decided to add further stipulations to the deal.”

“What? Why, you-” Taimi squawked.

“Silence!” cried Phlunt, but he’d already set Caoilfhionn on edge. “Taimi, as a ward to the College of Synergetics of Rata Sum, you are required to hand over all inventions for study and documentation. I hereby claim proprietorship over this waypoint recalibration device. I will hold it in trust for you until your graduation.”

“What!?” exclaimed Caoilfhionn. That avaricious–

“No!” cried Taimi. “I made this, on my own time, outside of Rata Sum!”

“Irrelevant. Hand it over like a good progeny, and we will see you at the summit.” Phlunt beckoned.

“No! I won’t let you take it!” Taimi hopped into her golem and backed away a little towards her device.

“Taimi, no!” said Phiadi.

“No, that’s not right!” Caoilfhionn cried, stepped a little in front of Taimi. “You can’t just take her hard work from her!” He still found Taimi abrasive, but he could not sit by and watch this happen.

Phlunt waved at him impatiently and angrily. “Stay out of this, Sylvari! You know nothing! Taimi, you wouldn’t dare disobey your superiors, would you? Just hand it over.”

Caoilfhionn took another step forwards, his gaze hardening to stone. “I will not stay out of it! I will fight injustice wherever I find it!”

Phiadi grabbed his belt and yanked, hissing at him. “Caoilfhionn… shut up!”

“No, he’s right,” Damara snapped, drawing her bow and standing next to him, her hawk leaning forward aggressively on her shoulder.

“I told you, it’s mine!” Scruffy scooped up the device and fled with it out of the cave.

Phlunt growled and pointed. “Agh! Krewe, after that delinquent.”

“She’s not a delinquent!”

“Caoilfhionn! Damara!” Phiadi held him back by the belt as the others ran out. “Listen to me. Phlunt may be the most colossal walking pile of hylek droppings to parade about Rata Sum – though I can think of a few others who also fit that description – but he’s correct, if untactful. Progeny don’t get to keep their own inventions until they’ve graduated. Even I didn’t – I had to give mine to my boss, Varkk. You do get them back later, if you even want them by the time you’ve graduated. It’s to keep progeny from dabbling too deep in unsupported fields by themselves. It’s for their own safety.”

“But… to such a person!” Damara cried. “Is person the right word? Self-centred, greedy wurm husk!”

“I know it’s aggravating-”

“It’s more than aggravating!” Caoilfhionn said. “It’s wrong, and cruel, and infuriating!”

“You can go through the entire thesaurus, but that doesn’t mean he can’t do it. And if you plan to fight him on it, you can say goodbye to Asura participation at the summit. Is that what you want!?”

“Your people are thoroughly unreasonable,” Caoilfhionn said bitterly.

“And your people are massive unscientific nitwits, like everyone else, but we still need to work together to fight those dragons,” Phiadi said. “Stay here and abstain on principle if you must, but the outcome will still be the same. And you know, she might be in danger out there.”

Caoilfhionn silently followed her. After a moment, Damara did as well.

He caught up to Mabbran. “If you drop him over the cliff, I’ll kick him on the way down.” Dishonourable, and he’d never actually do it, but satisfying to think about.

“Deal,” Mabbran said, equally seriously.

---

4: The Dragon’s Reach

The Grove was a blaze of magical lights on an evening a week or so later, crowds of Sylvari and others gathered to see the world leaders come through the Asura gate from Lion’s Arch. Caoilfhionn saw many people he knew, though one of them was Canach… Oh well! He would not let the grouchy Sylvari interfere with his enjoyment of the evening. Besides, Trahearne showed up before the delegates, with Laranthir and less fanfare.

Caoilfhionn ran to greet him; Trahearne did not change his own pace, but he smiled warmly at him. “Caoilfhionn! How are you, beloved? You look stunning, as always.”

Caoilfhionn took his hands and leaned up to kiss him. “I am well! And you do too-”

“Not like you, you know that.”

He was wearing his very best outfit again, and laughed bashfully. He still thought Trahearne unbearably handsome. “Anyway, Annhilda and I are representing Hope’s Legacy at the summit. They talked me into being the one to speak of our discoveries. I hope you are well too?”

“Yes, very well. Very curious. I’m looking forward to hearing what news you bring.”

“I’m glad you’re here. You of all people should be here.” Caoilfhionn linked an arm with Trahearne’s as they continued on to blend into the crowd, Laranthir and the other Pact escort trailing behind.

Trahearne shook his head. “I’m not planning to say much. I’m only here to give you moral support and to answer any questions about the Pact’s current plans. It’s bothersome, you know, when we were drawing up plans to go after Kralkatorrik, and then Mordremoth decides now is a spendid time to awaken.”

He spoke lightly, and Caoilfhionn answered in kind. “If only they’d line up politely and let us smack them before anyone got hurt… By the way, are we ready to take on Mordremoth?”

“Not yet,” Trahearne said, sobering. “But we will be soon. No matter the outcome of this meeting, I’m directing a forward camp to be set up in the Silverwastes. I already have scouts looking for a suitable location. I’m hoping I’ll see you there?”

“I’m sure the others can spare me for a while,” Caoilfhionn said happily. “Will you need the others?”

“Perhaps not until everything is in place. You must tell me what you have been up to, besides herding politicians!”

“I should love to,” Caoilfhionn said, but at that moment Caithe slipped by.

“Hello, Trahearne, Caoilfhionn. You look good. Healthy. Mostly. I hope you let them all know how dangerous Mordremoth is.”

“Of course,” Caoilfhionn said, and then she was gone into the crowd, and the Herald was beginning to speak.

When the world leaders had gone by, Trahearne kissed Caoilfhionn’s hand and stepped away. “I should go now, as Marshal. I’ll see you up there.” Caoilfhionn fondly watched him make his way to the lift, so tall and noble with Caladbolg at his back.

Then those of Hope’s Legacy followed, which was nigh-everyone except for Taimi, for her golem was too heavy to take the lift, and Wegaff and Rhyoll, who were less interested. There was the Pale Tree’s avatar, as beautiful as always, and Caoilfhionn smiled to see her with Caithe at her right hand and Trahearne at her left. She waited until Hope’s Legacy had taken places respectfully to the side, then spoke. “Esteemed leaders, welcome to the Grove. Your attendance at this critical summit is appreciated. We are here at the behest of the honoured group you see before you. I would like to invite their representative, Caoilfhionn, give us a summary.” She gestured to him to stand forward. “Please begin.”

Caoilfhionn smiled brightly, stepped forth, bowed, and took a deep breath. “Greetings. My name is Caoilfhionn. Thank you for coming. We are grateful to you all and your leadership in this time.” His words, much-rehearsed, flowed from his lips easily. “We’ve all been hearing about Mordremoth’s awakening and the damage the Elder Dragon has already wrought. In the time that this dragon has been awake, it has been sending out vines as far as the Iron Marches. Soon Tyria will be nothing more than a giant briar patch.”

He grew more solemn and more intense. He could not be comforting about this threat. “These vines are malicious. Fort Salma has been destroyed. Fort Concordia as well. Their defenses could not keep out an enemy that rises from beneath, shaking the very foundation of their walls and towers. We can’t know where it will attack until it does. No one is safe. Our families, our people, our trade routes, and most recently, our waypoints were threatened. They may be again someday soon. This is why I stand before you and ask that you, the most powerful leaders of Tyria, link arms and armies and work together to keep one and all safe and secure. It’s up to us. There is no one else. We must unite. We are all Tyrians.”

He caught a glimpse of a proud smile on Trahearne’s face before his lover schooled his expression back to impassiveness.

There was some discussion then, a surprisingly civilized and orderly discussion. Smodur the Unflinching was wary of committing much, if at all, but Knut and Annhilda agreed that many Norn would find a dragon a worthy hunt, even if it wasn’t Jormag. Phlunt grudgingly acknowledged, after some firm words from Trahearne, that the Asura could not stand alone, and Queen Jennah pledged an entire task force to fighting Mordremoth – which seemed to twig Smodur and Phlunt a little.

“You have all given me hope for Tyria,” said the Pale Tree at last. “It seems we-”

There was a rumble from below that shook the whole tree, and everyone looked around. Then the Pale Tree screamed out in pain and reeled, sinking to her knees, as her body creaked about them.

“Weapons out!” roared Smodur, drawing his sword and shield. “We’re under attack!”

And Mordrem burst from the Pale Tree’s flesh, wolves and husks and thrashers, charging towards them. “Defend yourselves!” Trahearne cried, stepping forward to stand with him.

For a while, all about him was chaos, teeth and weapons and spells, warcries and monstrous screeches. He could hear Phlunt whimpering again, but it was nigh-drowned out by Knut laughing boisterously and Smodur snarling furiously. And below was not much better; he could hear the sounds of battle with Mordrem echoing up from the Upper Commons. But almost everyone in the Omphalos Chamber could defend themselves, if not fight back, and Kasmeer had created a portal in the centre with Marjory defending her. One by one, the monsters fell and gave them some breathing room, and one by one, each of the leaders and their escorts stepped through the portal to join the city below, where they would not be isolated and easy to target.

“That’s all of them!” Kasmeer cried at last. “Come on through! I’ll keep the portal open as long as I can!” She stepped through and vanished with Marjory; Annhilda was after her.

“Wait,” the Pale Tree called, faintly, from where she huddled in her favoured alcove. “Caoilfhionn, I must speak with you alone. Come closer…”

He hurried to her side. “Mother? Mother, are you all right?” Her avatar was shivering, looking about, frightened.

She caught his arm, her gaze focusing on him. “Here you are… I can sense you clearly now. I am… weakened.”

“What happened? How can I help?”

She clutched at him in a way that wrung his heart with worry. “I… I can’t take much more. These Mordrem tore at my roots and battered my branches. And… be warned. There is another…”

“Another Mordrem?”

“Yes. One of the most dangerous… it comes directly from Mordremoth. You know it from your Dream. Before it comes, I must tell you-” She broke off with a wince and a shudder. “It draws nearer! If I die…”

“You will not die today, Mother!” Caoilfhionn cried, daring to put a hand on her shoulder. She was warm, though somehow both solid and insubstantial simultaneously. Of course, for her true body was the Tree beneath and above and around him. “Where is it? Tell me!”

“Shh… Listen.” She was wilting quickly. “You will hear it approach.”

He stood, daggers in both hands ready, and stood before her, small and fierce. “I will stand in its way. Forgive me if I scratch you a little?”

---

Trahearne stared up at the Omphalos Chamber from below; Mordrem were rampaging about him, and his people were fighting back valiantly alongside the representatives from the other races, but he could not concentrate on them. What was taking Caoilfhionn so long…?

The screech and shadow of a dragon stilled the breath in his lungs, and Kasmeer’s portal vanished. Caoilfhionn was alone up there! “Warmaster!”

“Marshal!” Laranthir cried, at his side, ready to follow him.

There were hidden paths up to the Omphalos Chamber and beyond, if one was a good climber. He might not have spent as much time in the Grove as his siblings, but he still knew them all, and he climbed now, fretting at how long and difficult it was while the dragon swooped about the Pale Tree, occasionally diving in to land heavily on her side and cram its head into the Chamber, breathing poisonous vapours within. As long as it kept focussing on the Chamber, he could be certain that Caoilfhionn was still inside, defending their Mother.

He clambered over the edge of the Chamber and dropped to its floor, taking Caladbolg in his hands and running forward. Caoilfhionn was darting through the centre of the space, dodging the flailing dragon’s claw, torching the vines that tried to ensnare him. “Caoilfhionn!”

“Trahearne!” Caoilfhionn did not even look up, concentrating on the dragon as it pulled back and swooped around to another corner. “I’m glad you’re here. I don’t think I could slay this beast alone.”

Trahearne rolled away from a blast of poison and slashed a charging Mordrem wolf in half. “No, it’s a bit on the large side, isn’t it?”

“Last time I fought it, Caithe was there to help…” Last time? He’d never mentioned this before?

“Here I am,” Caithe said coolly, dashing up the wall to take a slice at the dragon itself. “Yes, I had to dive into your Dream, I remember.”

“Yes, exactly.”

“If you can kill it in the Dream, you can kill it in real life,” Laranthir joked. Just at that moment, the dragon thrust its head even farther into the chamber, snapping at Caoilfhionn’s leaves. Trahearne lunged forward to protect him, but the dragon had reached its limit and begun to pull back – and caught, wedged between two large branches.

This was their chance, as it thrashed and choked! “Forward!”

---

Caoilfhionn needed no further encouragement, crashing forward with lightning and then striking it with flame, channeling his fury and determination into it. Before he had been born, he had been afraid of this dragon, but still charged into battle boldly as a knight ought. Now he was older, and more experienced, and he knew why he ought to be afraid, but he was not. Caithe was there with him on its other side, her venomed daggers dancing along the bark of its branches, and further back, Laranthir loosed arrow after arrow, aiming for its eyes. And Trahearne was beside him, the light of Caladbolg gleaming in the darkness of the Omphalos Chamber, stabbing forwards with all his might.

The dragon screeched as Caladbolg struck it on the nose, yanking itself from the Tree and shaking its head rapidly, and then flying off quickly. He heard its cries dying into the distance, and turned to run to where the Pale Tree’s avatar lay crumpled on the ground. “Mother! Mother, it’s gone, the threat has been quelled – for now, at least.” He struggled to catch his breath.

“Then come,” she whispered. “Come closer. I must share something with you…”

He knelt beside her and – his eyes no longer saw the waking world, but another vision. “I’m fading…” said his Mother’s voice, distantly, echoing, and he saw golden boughs in the Caledon shed their leaves, gathering the snows of winter. The land drew past him, to a landscape of golden clouds; the Shadow of the Dragon flew past it, and golden lights shone out of it – and then it fractured into a vision of crystals, shining sharp-edged crystals, that shattered, revealing for a single moment an egg – then vines choked it, choked off everything, smothering everything in writhing spikey blackness.

He woke with a gasp, finding Trahearne’s hand on his shoulder. “I-I don’t understand…”

“I’ve summoned the menders,” Trahearne said, kneeling beside him. “Come, we must leave her to them and discuss what to do next.”

Caoilfhionn followed him in a daze, through the new mesmer portal and to the Upper Commons, where the others of Hope’s Legacy clustered around him. “Are you all right?” “You got to fight a dragon, I’m rather jealous.” “I’m lost for words. That was a real dragon!” “I wasn’t able to take any readings, but if that thing was just a sample of its master’s power…” “Twig! Why didn’t you come down with the rest of us!?” He could hardly tell one voice from another and covered his eyes and ears.

Trahearne put an arm around him, grounding him. “Give him some space. He’s been burdened with yet another vision.”

“Another?” asked… Braham. “What kind of vision?”

“I don’t know,” he murmured. “There was a golden light and crystals everywhere.”

“You sure that dragon didn’t just give you a bump on the head?” Wegaff inquired.

“I’m sure,” he said, taking a deep breath and recovering himself, standing up straight and looking at them full on. “The Pale Tree showed me. It felt like a call to action.”

“What action?” Kasmeer asked. “What was she talking about?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know.” He looked away. Not much help, that was.

“It’s okay,” Rox said. “We’ll figure it out.”

“Yeah, and the first thing is to learn all we can about dragons,” Annhilda said. “Kas, Jory, Wegaff, I want you three to go to the Durmand Priory. I’ll be by as soon as I can, but I think I’ll be busy here a while longer.”

“Research is right up my alley,” Marjory said. “We’ll go straight there. One of us will mail you when we have enough information to share.”

“Thanks! Taimi, you need to continue your own research.”

“But keep it quiet,” Damara said.

“Yeah, we don’t want any more nosy councillors butting in and derailing my work,” Taimi said. “I’ll be discreet, boss. Everyone will think I’m just doing schoolwork.”

“And I am leaving now,” Trahearne said, giving Caoilfhionn another squeeze about the shoulders. “I am eager to return to Fort Trinity and continue our preparations against Mordremoth.”

“This reminded me of the dragon at Claw Island,” Rhyoll said. “Similar size, similar strength.”

“Poor Lion’s Arch,” Trahearne said. “It has had more than its fair share of bad luck these last few years. But there is an intelligence to this attack that does not fit what I know about Elder Dragons.”

“Agreed,” Phiadi said. “It was too well timed.”

“Who knew about the summit?” Annhilda asked.

Damara looked around. “Only those present and anyone they told…”

“And anyone helping to set up for it here,” Phiadi said.

“Too many,” Trahearne said, frowning. “Information like that leaks like water through cotton. Not helpful. Someone sent the Shadow of the Dragon after us.” He turned to Caoilfhionn. “You said that creature was from your Dream, did you not?”

“It was indeed.” Caoilfhionn said. “I’ll never forget it.”

“Wait, you saw this thing in a dream? You foresaw it happening?” Braham exclaimed. “Why didn’t you do anything?”

“It wasn’t a premonition,” Caoilfhionn tried to explain. “I fought it there. It had no connection to this attack today.” Had Mordremoth been so strong that its champion attacked him before it even awoke? Had it known of his Wyld Hunt in the womb?

“I don’t understand, but it doesn’t matter,” Braham said. “All that matters is that it’s still out there. It could come back at any time or attack someplace else.”

“It could, which is why I will be establishing a forward camp tomorrow,” Trahearne said. “Caoilfhionn, a moment?” He steered Caoilfhionn away from the guild and took him by the shoulders, looking down at him with concern. “The things we see in our Dream have a way of coming around. Your Wyld Hunt… Do you feel the call yet?”

Caoilfhionn searched himself, then raised his eyes to Trahearne’s. “I hadn’t for some time, but I feel it now. Is it a new one?”

“I don’t know,” Trahearne said. “Is it?”

He felt again. “No. It is the same.” Perhaps his Wyld Hunt had not been to fight Zhaitan at all? Perhaps it had been to fight Mordremoth from the start? Oh, but then he would not have felt relieved in such a way when they had killed Zhaitan.

“You helped to destroy Zhaitan, but that must not have completed your Wyld Hunt,” Trahearned summarized without knowing his thoughts.

“Wonderful,” Caoilfhionn said wearily. “Of all Sylvari, my Wyld Hunt is to slay every dragon in existence.”

Trahearne drew him into a close embrace. “I’m sorry, beloved. I thought mine was impossible until it was not, but yours… That does seem a tall order. Not impossible, perhaps, but… very difficult. Long. Wearying. But I am here beside you to see it through.”

Caoilfhionn embraced him back. “Thank you, beloved. You give me such strength and comfort.”

Trahearne kissed him sweetly. “Then I will see you soon in the Silverwastes?”

“Yes, of course.” Caoilfhionn managed to smile at him. “We’ll sort ourselves out. You’d best get to Fort Trinity. I’ll see you soon.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

---

5: The Silverwastes

While the others went their separate ways from the Grove on the morrow, Damara, Rhyoll, and Caoilfhionn went to Fort Trinity to help. He also caught sight of Canach, which left him feeling disgruntled, but what could he do about that? The great airship fleet, repaired after the liberation of Orr, was being loaded, and the Pact forces were reassembling from their three Order headquarters. Trahearne was too busy to talk much, and Caoilfhionn made himself useful as he could, spending time with the medics. Rhyoll joined the engineers, and Damara was put in charge of several units of Vigil forces.

The Glory of Tyria was the first to launch, ready to make the several-day trip west and north; it landed in a small canyon east of Brisban Wildlands with a vast quantity of building supplies and materiel, and a small force to protect them. The next ship brought engineers to start assembling the base, and over the next few weeks, ships came from Fort Trinity, bringing more and more soldiers, not only Order soldiers, but Charr centuries and Human squadrons, Sylvari Valiants and Norn hunters, even Asura Peacemakers. Watching Trahearne coordinate it all was splendid; he’d truly grown into his role, giving orders with no hesitation or doubt, a leader of people to be reckoned with. Caoilfhionn rather adored hearing him be bossy, even – perhaps especially – when he himself was the target.

“Ho there!” cried a familiar voice one day, and Caoilfhionn turned to see Eithne and Ruadhan grinning at him from the airship dock stairs. “Caoilfhionn! Brother!”

“Eithne! Ruadhan!” He ran to them and embraced them. “What brings you here?”

“We came to help!” Eithne said, laughing, her yellow skin shining in the sun as befitted her nickname. “I know I am more a hunter of beasts than of monsters, but my arrows fly true just the same!”

“After what happened in the Grove, how could we stay behind?” Ruadhan said. “We wish to do everything we can to protect the Mother Tree, and we decided that purpose would be well-served by coming here. And you rushed away without staying to commiserate with us!” He made a comically sad face.

“I’m grateful to see you here,” Caoilfhionn said, patting his brother’s shoulder. He’d met with Cathaoir after the attack, but it was true that the meeting had been brief and he had been focused on following Trahearne to Fort Trinity. “If there’s anything I can do to aid you, tell me and I shall do it.” They were not often out of Caledon Forest, he knew.

“Well…” Eithne looked around uncertainly. “This is all very strange to me. I could certainly use…”

“A tour!” Ruadhan cried. “Yes, if you show us around, surely we will understand better all this clamour and confusion.”

In the midst of it all, they ran into Trahearne, who greeted them courteously. “Have you heard anything from our Mother? Is she recovering? I’ve been so worried.”

The two other Sylvari looked at each other anxiously. “I believe she’s still in danger,” Ruadhan said. “Her mind was… damaged.”

“Oh, our poor Mother.” Trahearne clenched his fists. “This feeds my desire to stop this Elder Dragon in its tracks. It will know the burn of my wrath.”

Caoilfhionn put a hand on his arm. “Do not leave caution behind in your hurry to take revenge.”

Trahearne took a deep breath and unclenched his hands, turning away slightly; Eithne and Ruadhan pulled back. “No. No, of course, you’re right. I have too many lives in my hands. Thank you for being the voice of reason. I occasionally fall victim to my rage.”

“It’s hard to believe of you,” Caoilfhionn said, a half-smile crossing his face. “When I am angry, I become hot. When you are angry, you become cold. It’s harder to see.”

“That’s because you are the sun, and I am the moon,” Trahearne said, leaning against the wall behind Caoilfhionn with one hand and reaching up to touch his face with the other. “But surely you know me well enough to know I’m not always as calm as I seem.”

“Oh, I know now, but others may still not. But I’m angry too, and just as determined to destroy Mordremoth.” Even had not the call of his Wyld Hunt been growing ever more insistent in his mind, he was determined. Although he was rather distracted by Trahearne leaning over him like that, his sap running fast; was he not thinking about how much he loved it when he loomed? Or was he doing it on purpose?

“I’ll confess. This particular dragon inspires a dread in my heart that none other has. I’ve never felt so personally attacked. That it would go after her… It’s unforgiveable.” Trahearne paused, and lowered his voice even more, his gaze distant. “Some mornings, I awake, and for a moment, I’m afraid that when I look outside I’ll see the world destroyed. That image is so clear in my mind. It’s the most desolate feeling I’ve ever had.”

“You carry such weight on your shoulders,” Caoilfhionn said softly. “I’m here to take some of it when you can spare any.”

“You already do so much,” Trahearne said, his attention focusing on him again, so close and so intense. “I beg you to be careful, if you wish to ease my burden. Our Mother Tree needs you. I need you.”

Caoilfhionn reached up and kissed him. “I will do my best. …Would you like to help me show Eithne and Ruadhan around camp?” He’d nearly forgotten his siblings standing near. How utterly rude of him!

Trahearne had apparently also almost forgotten, and quickly stepped back from him, turning to include them all in the conversation. “I fear I have not the time, but I am grateful for their presence.” He approached them and bowed. “Thank you for coming to aid us.”

“We’ll do the best we can,” Eithne said, nodding. “For our Mother, and for Caoilfhionn, and for you, Trahearne.”

“In that order, I suppose,” Ruadhan joked, and Trahearne laughed.

---

Annhilda had gone to check on Marjory and Kasmeer and Wegaff; she had been in the middle of a strategy session with Trahearne, Phiadi, and Damara when the message came. Her eyes had lit up at the mention of the Special Collections, which was when Phiadi said “Go on, then, just promise to bring back some useful intel.” She had almost forgotten to say goodbye before heading out.

Access to the Special Collections was highly restricted, and every opportunity was exciting. There were enough legends collected there to make songs you could sing for years without repeating yourself, and that was quicker than reading the books and scrolls they would be taken from!

There was something different about the main hall today, as she walked up the stairs past the looming stone figure of Abaddon – funny how the Priory ended up collecting things that were supposed to be lost forever. It took her a while to find Archivist Ernswort, who was flustered as she always was, fluttering around her crates and packages. “Are you delivering something?” asked the old archivist severely. “I’m already buried in magic items. I don’t have enough scribes, and every piece needs to be catalogued.”

Annhilda pointed upwards. “I really have to ask. Is that Zhaitan’s tail?”

Ernswort turned quickly, taking in Annhilda and her pointing finger, and chuckled. “As a matter of fact, it is. We brought it here after Zhaitan’s death. We had to construct special rigging to get it in here. It took months.”

“Huh, I must have been busy,” Annhilda said.

“We wanted his head, but it was in too poor a condition to recover.”

“Oops,” Annhilda said completely unapologetically. “Oh well, you probably would have had to fight several Norn who wanted to pin it up on the Great Lodge at Hoelbrak. Anyway, I’m looking for some particular books…”

The books led her to Ogden, who tricked her into a… place in the Mists? The crystalline dreamscape could only be Glint’s Lair, and Annhilda felt a shiver run down her back as she looked around. Two and a half centuries ago, the heroes of the Flameseeker Prophecies passed through these same paths, seeking Glint’s wisdom.

It was… rather… bright, though there was no harsh lights to bounce off the crystals and blind her. And it was rather pastel, between the bismuthian ‘ground’ and the quartz ‘walls’. Caoilfhionn would have loved it, she couldn’t help but think. He did enjoy frivolous, sparkly things. She, on the other hand, appreciated more the clever puzzles and traps, the way the place made you question which way was forward and which was back. It took Raven’s wits to design such a place. She strode ahead, sword in hand, alert for danger. Wegaff trotted behind her, equally uninterested in the view, torn between jumping at every sign of danger and attempting to quantify the magic suffusing every bit of the place. Marjory and Kasmeer had been separated from them, but they could at least hear each other’s voices echoing through the crystals.

As impressive as it was, the biggest riddle remained Ogden’s reason for it all.

---

Camp Resolve was an ever-increasing buzz of activity with every passing day. With the camp a now heavily fortified bastion, sheltered from the natural elements, Trahearne was ordering offensives on foot right up to the edge of the jungle, where massive vines spilled over the edge of the cliffs separating the dry from the wet. Everyone was constantly on edge lest vines of that size invaded the camp from below, as with Fort Salma or Prosperity Village. Though the ground appeared to be solid stone, that hadn’t protected Prosperity…

But the fleet was assembling, more than half-gathered in the last six weeks, and now things would accelerate until finally they launched in all their strength and splendour, to… do things. Caoilfhionn was not officially privy to the battle plans, but everything Trahearne knew, he knew – and what he didn’t know, either. Any scouts sent past the edge of the jungle did not return; they still knew almost nothing further west, where the dragon’s lair was, what lived in the jungle besides Mordrem, anything at all.

So their current strategy was to hold the Silverwastes, to keep the plants at bay until they were ready, and then plunge boldly ahead, bombarding the jungle before them to keep the vines down, until they found the dragon. They’d head west first, where the vines seemed to be coming from, and if it wasn’t there, they’d sweep around to the unknown areas to the south.

“It’s a dreadful plan,” Trahearne said privately to him one night. “I hate it.”

“But our fleet is half again as large as before,” Caoilfhionn said, sitting behind him on their cot and massaging his neck; he was rewarded by Trahearne melting under his hands with a relaxed sigh. “The Glory of Tyria is not our only large ship anymore.”

“But to put our trust in strength alone is foolishness. Knowledge is far better. We could not have defeated Zhaitan without knowing his weaknesses, and Mordremoth is likely stronger. Nor do we have the knowledge to weaken him yet. He has been strangely docile about our base here, but I don’t trust it. Not at all.”

Caoilfhionn soothed him. “I agree, but we can’t have that knowledge now, so at least we have overwhelming strength. Besides, I’m sure once we launch, everything will become clear. It’s the waiting that’s the hardest part.”

“Yes… But not only that, I hardly like to lay waste to the entire jungle. It can’t solely be the provenance of the Elder Dragon. And the Dragon is the target of my vengeance, not the jungle.”

“It doesn’t sound like one of your ideas, no. But then why are you going along with it?”

“I’m not just going along with it, I’m taking responsibility for it,” Trahearne remarked with disgruntlement. “It was Logan’s idea, actually, and half my commanders, including Phiadi, backed him up. I will say it’s provisional, but I don’t believe I can come up with a better one while we’re still losing scouts. I don’t like losing so many scouts. It feels like a death sentence to send them out.”

“At least we’ve determined that making our way through the jungle on foot is not really a feasible option,” Caoilfhionn said, embracing Trahearne and pulling him back to rest against him. “Annhilda said she’s coming back tomorrow, perhaps she’ll have learned something to help.”

“Aye, surely there’s something about the Heart of Maguuma at the Priory, even if there was none about Mordremoth. Not that it would be recent information…”

“Better than nothing. Come, beloved, let us talk of lighter matters before we sleep.”

“I have too much to think of to allow myself to-”

“Then we don’t have to actually talk-”

But Trahearne didn’t struggle too hard against his lips, against his adoration of Trahearne’s lean, angular shins and forearms and shoulders, letting the smaller Sylvari push him down and pull his clothes off. As usual, Caoilfhionn only made it partway before he was overcome with awe and gratitude, simply holding his lover, pressing kisses to each of his spinal marks, breathing in his greenness, trying not to weep with how amazing he was, feeling his sap sing in his veins.

“Are you all right?” Trahearne asked, trying to look over his shoulder.

“More than all right,” Caoilfhionn replied with a sniffle. “Just let me worship you, my beloved.”

“As you wish, my prince…”

---

Annhilda, unfortunately, did not have information on the Heart of Maguuma or Mordremoth, though she brought news that was nearly as exciting – if top secret. The dragon Glint had given an egg to the Master of Peace of the Zephyrites, and now they were back on his trail. Surely he was long gone after all this time – but no, Hope’s Legacy and Caithe caught up to him in a hidden labyrinth of stone and vines beneath the Silverwastes, mortally wounded by a pack of especially vicious Mordrem.

“You’re our only hope now,” he rasped to Annhilda. “Listen… closely. I have something… I can no longer protect. You must… understand… its importance to Tyria’s future…”

“The egg,” Annhilda said. “I know its significance. I’ll guard it carefully-”

The Master of Peace breathed his last breath, sagging in her arms, and the egg fell from his grasp.

“No time to explain,” Caithe said, dashing forwards and scooping it up before anyone else could react.

“Caithe! Wait!” Marjory cried. “What do you think you’re doing!?”

But she was gone, only a few fluttering leaves falling to the sands where she had stood. “What was that all about?” Damara said. “I thought taking care of the egg was your job, Caoilfhionn? Didn’t the Pale Tree ask you?”

Caoilfhionn looked around, confused. “I thought so too. But it’s true Caithe is a very good guardian. Perhaps she thought it best to get it safely away as quickly as possible. I’ll thank her when we catch up.”

“Then let’s do that,” Annhilda said, rising with the Master of Peace’s body. “We need to take this one back to his people, and I’m not comfortable lingering here.”

“Me either, boss,” Braham said. “I hate the heat outside, but sooner we get back out of these caves, the better.”

“Really? I like how hot it is outside,” Rox said.

“I don’t get it, you’re covered in fur. Shouldn’t you be warmer than me?”

“It’s short fur. You’ve got all that extra padding for cold climes, it’s not helping you here.”

“Did you just call me fat!?” Braham gasped, pretending to be offended.

“It’s no more than Taimi would have done,” Rox said, grinning.

“Hmph. You’re not wrong.”

“Fourteen Kasmeers, wasn’t it?” Damara said.

“Nineteen,” said Marjory, “but that was including Scruffy who was at least ten of those Kasmeers.”

Kasmeer was blushing. “I’m not a unit of measurement!”

But Caithe was not at Camp Resolve, and everyone they asked – Logan, Eir, Zojja, Trahearne – were just as mystified by her actions; they’d seen her for a moment and then she’d been gone again. “I have no idea why she would take this task on herself, when she knew the Pale Tree had given it to you,” Trahearne said to Caoilfhionn. “Perhaps you should ask Mother yourself? She may have some insight that we lack.”

“That’s a good idea,” Caoilfhionn said. “I’ll do that – if she’s well enough to speak with me.” He looked around at the others. “I’ll go alone, I’m sure the rest of you are needed here. I’ll send a message if I need assistance.”

“Come back soon,” Trahearne said. “We’re finalizing launch preparations in the next two weeks.”

Caoilfhionn nodded. “The sooner the better. Mordremoth doesn’t need any additional time.”

“My thoughts exactly. Annhilda! I’d like your opinion on the state of our outposts.”

“I have several,” Annhilda said. “Most of which involve me providing personal instruction in Mordrem-bashing.”

---

6: Caithe

The Grove was still subdued when he arrived, much of the natural luminescence from the Mother Tree that had illuminated the village among her roots not currently gleaming. He’d sent word ahead to the Menders to ask for an audience, and Cathaoir met him at the gate to the Grove. “Mother has been fading in and out of awareness, the Menders say. But she said she was able to protect the Dream from the assault.”

“Oh dear,” Caoilfhionn said. “That is good, but I fear for another attack.”

“So do we all. You should see the Wardens stationed in the upper boughs, watching for that creature to return.” He put a hand on Caoilfhionn’s shoulder. “Do not be afraid for Mother – at least, not anymore than her current state warrants. She will be protected from future attacks.”

“Thank you all,” Caoilfhionn said. “But I suppose I will have to wait for an audience.”

“Yes, though I understand you’re to be allowed in the first time she feels well. Your quest must be special indeed.”

“It is, though slowly am I beginning to understand it… Oh, I should let you know that Eithne and Ruadhan are well, and making themselves of great use.”

Cathaoir smiled. “That is good to hear. They are very brave, to join your Pact. I should have liked to myself, but I felt myself called more to defend the Mother Tree. But my thoughts go with you as you journey to slay Mordremoth.”

“Thank you, Brother.”

“No, thank you, Brother. Ah, here comes Mender Aine – perhaps your wait will be brief indeed.”

Mender Aine greeted him courteously and brought him to the Omphalos Chamber. The light was still dim, but soothing now. The Pale Tree’s avatar lay on the ground as if in sleep, but as Caoilfhionn approached and knelt beside her, she sat up with Aine’s help. “Good. I was hoping to see you soon. The vision… have you made any progress… with it?”

“I believe so,” Caoilfhionn said. “I found the egg, but-”

The Pale Tree breathed a sigh. “What a relief. You may have just saved Tyria. The struggle is far from over, but if you had failed to find and protect the egg, it would have been over before it began.”

Caoilfhionn looked away uncomfortably. “But… Caithe has the egg in her custody. Do you know where she might have gone?”

She frowned. “Caithe has the egg? Why? You, you’re the one who must care for it. Not Caithe. That’s why I gave you the vision.”

“I know, but for some reason I don’t understand, she ran off with it.”

“Oh.” He had never seen his Mother so blank, but she had so little energy to respond with. “Well, you must find her. I can help, but my powers in this regard are… limited.”

“What can we do?”

“Maybe if you knew… more about her past. I can give you memory seeds. They will… allow you to search her memories for places that are significant… to her.”

Caoilfhionn’s eyes widened. Those were not lightly given. “Mother, I… thank you.”

“Aine, if you please…”

“Rest, Mother,” Caoilfhionn said. “Thank you very much. I’ll fulfill this quest, I swear it.”

He rose, putting three of the seeds in his jacket, cradling the fourth in his hands, following the soft pull on his mind. He’d never used them before, but he knew what to do – the Dream told him. He approached Ventari’s Tablet, and nodded to it. “Where life goes, so too, must you,” he murmured softly, and bent to plant the seed.

---

He woke again and by the angle of the sun, he had been in the memory for some time. Mender Aine was beside him. “How do you feel?”

“I feel… fine,” he said. “I saw the youth of the Sylvari – when the Secondborn had just Awoken.” He had seen Trahearne, looking exactly the same as he yet did, heard Caithe tease him for thinking too much. Some things never changed. He’d seen Faolain, eager and impetuous but not sinister, in love with Caithe as Caithe loved her. He’d even seen Ceara, already tinkering with Asura trash, a glow of fascination in her eyes.

“A long time ago to you, and a short time to us, but time is relative,” Aine said. “Do you know where to go next? I dare not inquire into your quest too closely.”

Right, his quest was supposed to be a secret – except from Hope’s Legacy and Destiny’s Edge. “I do. I think. I’m going to call on my guild for help, I don’t think it would be a good idea to use these without someone to watch over my body.”

“I think that would be wise,” Aine said, helping him to his feet. “May Ventari guide you.”

“Thank you, Mender Aine. May Mother’s recovery be swift.”

---

The core of Hope’s Legacy – Annhilda, Damara, Phiadi, and Rhyoll – were needed still in the Silverwastes, defending the outposts and leading attacks on the Vinewrath monster that lurked on the edge of the jungle, and Braham, Rox, and Kasmeer stayed with them and Destiny’s Edge, but Wegaff and Marjory came with him to watch over him when he went to Metrica to plant the next seed.

When he woke, he had tears in his eyes. He sat up abruptly, shaking, crying with anger. “H-how could…”

“What’s wrong?” Marjory asked, kneeling beside him. “What did you see?”

“I… the Secondborn…” He clenched his fists and took a deep breath. “Some Asura kidnapped some Secondborn and did horrible things to them. They experimented on them until they died.”

“That’s terrible,” Marjory said. “Was it Inquest?”

“It wasn’t even Inquest! It was… It was Vorpp. And if I see him again I will kill him.”

Wegaff was doing an awkward shuffle. “Well… you’re not supposed to test your subjects to death, but some Asura are like that…”

Caoilfhionn glared even at him, one of his oldest friends. “They were begging for mercy and received none! Even if those Asura had thought them naught more than sentient plants, surely their speech should have shown them to be thinking, feeling beings! …Even you, when we met, you wanted to study me!!”

Wegaff stumbled back a pace. “W-w-wait, hold on, now, I knew Sylvari were people! I just wanted to check your concentration of magical energy – readings you were happy enough to participate in!”

Caoilfhionn dragged himself to his feet and angrily wiped the tears from his face, though more flowed to replace them. “Perhaps you are an exception… but many of your people are very cruel. …I no longer blame Canach for seeking such violent revenge on that Consortium director. He was there, too, one of the victims.”

Marjory stepped into his field of vision, her gaze anxious. “Hey. I get it. But it’s long past. Take some deep breaths and try to calm down. Do you know where we’re going next?”

Caoilfhionn breathed out and bowed his head. But she had not seen it before her as if living it. “Yes. To the Silverwastes, to a centaur village.”

“Hm. I haven’t heard about any centaurs living out there.”

“Then we will have to find where one used to be.”

“Caoilfhionn,” Wegaff said to his back. “I’m not going to apologize on behalf of my people. It was twenty-five years ago and I wasn’t born yet. But I’m not going to make excuses for them either. I’m… sorry you were… er… hurt by this.”

Funnily enough, that helped. “Thank you, Wegaff.”

---

They made it back to Camp Resolve several days later, and Caoilfhionn was still emotionally exhausted, going straight to Trahearne’s tent and brooding into a pillow rather than going to find his lover immediately as he might normally. It was well dark before Trahearne himself came in, stopping short in surprise in the opening. “Caoilfhionn! What are you- Oh dear.” Caoilfhionn had turned to look at him, and he supposed his eyes were still yellow-rimmed and tragic in the candlelight. Trahearne crossed the tent and sat next to him swiftly. “What’s wrong, beloved?”

Caoilfhionn sat up and crawled into his welcoming embrace. “Mother gave me memory seeds for Caithe… I think the thread through them is Faolain’s obsession with Wynne, but the second memory was so horrible…”

“Hm.” Trahearne held him tighter. “I remember a little of that. Faolain was gracious enough to leave me out of it.”

“I saw you, in the first memory. You were just as beautiful then as you are now…”

Trahearne exhaled an almost-laugh. “I was just as boring then as I am now.”

“You’re not boring! I love you.”

“Thank you, beloved. But what did you see after that?”

“Some Asura kidnapped some Secondborn and tortured them to death.” He inhaled, and then the words came tumbling out without stopping, luminescence surging with emotion. “They didn’t even think they were people, they called them ‘creatures’ and kept them naked in cages, and inflicted pain upon them mercilessly even when they were pleading for their lives… And they gloated over it! Caithe and Faolain went to rescue them. But the one who did it escaped. I’ve met him, without knowing what he’d done. He’s still horrible. If I meet him again…”

Trahearne sighed, lost in thought. “Yes, I remember. It was the second time they’d done that – and the last, thank the stars. Niamh and I were assembling a group to follow them, though I was afraid to lose yet more newborns, but by the time we were halfway to Metrica, Caithe and Faolain were returning with the survivors already. But we lost so many…” Trahearne’s grip tightened yet more, this time not for comfort. “I was so angry. As angry as when they’d taken my brother Malomedies. I wanted to kill them, as many as I could, to get revenge for all the meaningless pain they’d inflicted upon us.” He shuddered, and Caoilfhionn felt that he was holding back still.

“But you didn’t.”

“Mother said not to – that we would need their help to fight the dragons. So I swallowed my rage. And it has paid off – we would not be where we are today if we had begun an equally meaningless war with our closest neighbours.”

Caoilfhionn sighed long, letting out his anger and frustration into Trahearne’s narrow chest, and Trahearne relaxed around him too. “You are right. But I do not like Asura as much as I did before. And I was none too fond of them before, Wegaff and Phiadi excluded…”

“I understand.” Trahearne stroked his back, his leaves, pressed a kiss to his forehead. “It will pass as you remember your friends among them. They are not evil.”

“Most of them.”

“Most of them,” conceded Trahearne. “I will readily admit the Inquest are unapologetically evil, and the Arcane Council certainly knows how to drop bugs in everyone’s breakfast. But the rest are quite decent. If varying degrees of incomprehensible.”

“You’re right,” Caoilfhionn said, with another sigh. “But thank you for understanding.”

“I understand all too well,” Trahearne said sadly. “I wish this could have been kept from you. I don’t like to see you upset this way – by something so long past, especially.”

“I’ll recover,” Caoilfhionn said, making a wan smile. “I’m only three-and-a-half, after all.”

“Such a sprout you are,” said the twenty-eight year old eldest of the Firstborn, and kissed him.

---

The third memory led him out to the North Silverwastes, even more north than anyone had been before. It was infested with giant beetles, but this time, Damara joined the party – Trahearne did not like the idea of Caoilfhionn unconscious and underdefended so close to Mordrem territory. He explained to her on the way, and she asked many questions about the memory seeds. Humans were so disconnected from each other. He felt a little sorry for them – for all of them, not just Humans.

He woke up weeping again, and did not even open his eyes. The righteous fury he’d felt after the previous vision was nowhere to be found, only incredible grief and disappointment, shame and sympathy, an almost physical pain in his soul.

“What did you see?” Damara asked, and put her arms about him. “Oh no. Are you going to be okay?” Her jungle stalker rubbed its head and body against him, purring, trying to soothe him.

He shook his head. He had no breath except to weep, for the shame of what he had seen was overwhelming him. “Faolain… Faolain and Cadeyrn murdered all the centaurs. And Caithe helped.” He sobbed. “It was dreadful. So many dead…”

“And what about Wynne?” Marjory asked.

“She ran away in grief, and rightly so… into a cave near here. Ah, Faolain tried to tell her it was her own fault! How despicable can she be!?” And to hear her call the centaurs ‘animals’, when not long ago she had been enraged by her own people being called ‘creatures’ – she had no awareness, did she?

“Gaslighting bookah,” said Wegaff. Caoilfhionn didn’t know exactly what he meant by that, but it seemed accurate.

“Gods. I’m sorry you had to see that,” Damara said, and Caoilfhionn cried harder, her sympathy enabling him. It was just so… painful to see someone he looked up to, doing something so wicked and wrong! How could Caithe do such a thing without trying to stop it? And what would he have done in that situation? Could he have stopped it?

Such thoughts were unhelpful, and he struggled to bring his emotions under control.

“You said she ran into a cave?” Marjory asked. “Can you show us?”

“I think so.” He tried to wipe his eyes and got up unsteadily. “Just down this canyon and to the left…” They followed him. The land had not changed much in the intervening twenty-five years, and the cave was easy to find. The back wall of it had a strange symbol carved all over it. “Wynne somehow activated this symbol and passed through.”

Wegaff went up and touched the stone. “Feels solid enough… let’s get some energy readings here.”

“I’ll make a sketch of that,” Marjory said, pulling out a notepad and a paper-wrapped charcoal stick. “I haven’t seen anything like it before, but perhaps there will be something at the Priory.”

Caoilfhionn grimaced. They didn’t have time to go all the way to the Priory and back. But they didn’t have much choice, either.

“Hmm…” Wegaff was muttering to himself. “Did your Wynne have a key of any sort?”

“I was too far back to see,” Caoilfhionn said. “I suppose it’s possible.”

“Yes… yes… All right. I’ll come with you and Marjory to the Priory. I think, between the three of us, we can crack this puzzle open. You have to get in there, yes?”

Caoilfhionn touched the last seed inside his coat. “Yes. I must see the end of this tale.”

---

Trahearne, of course, noticed the moment he saw him, in his tent again. “Another painful memory, I take it.”

“I have decided not to tell you about this one,” Caoilfhionn told him. He was stronger this time, not flinging himself into his lover’s arms, even though he rather wanted to. But he always wanted to, whether or not he needed comfort, so that was nothing new.

“But you’re in pain-”

“I don’t want to distract you now,” Caoilfhionn said. “We’re launching in a few days, and it’s… I know you would think about it.” And think about it, and think about it – he didn’t think Trahearne would lose focus, but this was a burden he didn’t need right now.

Trahearne frowned. “I’m going to worry about you anyway, you realize.”

“Better that than this,” Caoilfhionn said. “At least you know where I am.”

“Very cryptic,” Trahearne said dryly. “Are you learning from me?”

Caoilfhionn managed to laugh. “Am I? Maybe. I promise to tell you afterwards, when we have leisure to let our emotions run more freely.”

“Thank you. I will hold you to that.”

“As long as you also hold me. Anyway, I cannot get into the place where the last memory is, so I have to go to the Priory for answers.”

“We’re launching in only a few days.”

“I may not have a choice, beloved. This is so important. But you can’t delay for me.”

“I know. In fact, I’m going to send the rest of your guild with you.”

Caoilfhionn blinked wide-eyed at him. “But you need them.”

“Just in case. I’ll keep an airship back for you to bring you all up quickly…”

“No, those you need even more than Hope’s Legacy. Trahearne, you’re letting your heart cloud your judgement.”

“Hm.” Trahearne thought. “I’ll think about it more carefully before I decide. And in the meantime, I’ll pray that you are able to find your answers and return in time.”

“There’s a good chance that I will, after all,” Caoilfhionn said. “Now… I’m tired. This tale is exhausting.”

Trahearne chuckled and stroked his leaves. “Get some rest, my prince. Your knight will guard you.” Caoilfhionn laughed and laid his head down.

---

Caoilfhionn appeared beneath the Camp Resolve waypoint, a little out of breath from having travelled all the way from the Durmand Priory in one go. He’d gone with Marjory and Wegaff, and with Ogden Stonehealer’s help, found an answer to the door’s riddle in what Caoilfhionn thought must be record time. They’d been gifted with a magical torch that burned cold with white fire, a memory of the Forgotten who had apparently carved the rune. And now they were back, just in time. The fleet was going to launch the day after tomorrow, if Caoilfhionn had kept track of the days right. While he was at the Priory, he’d overheard several novices chattering excitedly about the new look of Lion’s Arch – but he had no time to visit now. It would have to wait.

He walked up to the two guilds standing about chatting in the middle of camp, Marjory and Wegaff following him. Marjory bore the torch for now. Annhilda waved them over, and Logan Thackeray turned to him with a big smile. “You all made it. Great. We’ve just been introduced to this young Norn here. He, apparently, is Eir’s son – a fact I didn’t know when I first met him.”

“I… I saw no point in mentioning it,” Eir said awkwardly. “Braham was raised by his father.”

“Braham has made quite a legend for himself,” Annhilda said. “You should be proud.”

Braham saluted them, equally awkwardly. “It’s my great honour to meet you all. I’ve heard stories of your deeds since I was young.”

“What’s that?” Zojja asked, pointing at the torch. “Looks… arcane.”

“It is,” Marjory said. “A torch of divine fire, to light the Forgotten runes.”

“Poetry doesn’t explain much,” Zojja said.

“Oddly, I was being quite literal,” Marjory said.

“Shall we head out, then?” Annhilda asked Hope’s Legacy.

Caoilfhionn started. “This instant? But it’s evening…”

“Good time to travel, in this environment. Trahearne’s called us all off active duty so we could assist you as soon as you got back. We’re all ready to go.”

“I’d like something to eat first,” Caoilfhionn said. “We’ve been buried in Special Collections for the last three days and food was not a priority.”

“Acceptable,” Annhilda said. “Damara, can you rustle that up?”

Damara waved and ran off, and Logan turned to them with an air of curiosity. “So really, what is the torch for? Is it something to do with the thing you were talking about before? You know… the… the egg?”

“Yes,” Caoilfhionn said. “You still haven’t heard from Caithe?”

“No, not at all,” Zojja said. “Don’t be too angry with her. She’s independent and stubborn.”

Caoilfhionn cast a skeptical eye on Zojja, who he considered to be so twice as much as Caithe, but moving on… “Caithe is one of us,” Eir assured them. “She’s saved all our lives at least once. I don’t think you have to worry. She’s just… rash.”

“Ah, she’s not the only one,” Annhilda said indulgently. “But it is rather bothersome that she’s leading us about on this goose chase when we’re about to launch our greatest attack yet.”

“Yes, I-” Logan began, when there was a cry from the south gate.

“We’re under attack!”

“Blast it,” Rhyoll grumbled. “Why now?”

“Stations, everyone!” Trahearne cried from behind them in the Seraph camp, running out to join them, Caladbolg shining in his grasp. “Hello, Caoilfhionn.”

“Hello, Trahearne!” His hunger and weariness were forgotten; adrenaline flooded his body as he ran with his lover to the south gate to fight the Mordrem surging against the cannons there. There were so many! Even with the cannons, with the archers and musketeers on the low wall, the Mordrem came up as fast as they fell, coming on so swiftly – and there were vines behind the wall! He blew a breath of fire across the ground, and many of the shorter vines withered and shrivelled in the flames – but more came. How could one fight an enemy that continuously replenished itself thus!?

Trahearne observed them coolly, then looked to an Asura nearby. “Tell the fleet to ready an air strike.”

“On our own camp!?” gasped the Asura.

“As a measure of last resort – but we must be prepared.”

“Yes, sir!” The Asura scampered off.

Not a minute later, the charging Mordrem husks were at the wall, pounding on it, forcing the archers and musketeers back from the edge. The mages were picking up the weight, elementalists and mesmers and necromancers blasting arcane death indiscriminately into the seething torrent of living vegetative matter. The melee fighters took a staggered formation in front of them, ready to defend with cold steel while allowing space for spells to pass between them.

But then all eyes turned skyward, and the formation broke and scattered as a massive thorny vine plunged from the darkened sky into their midst. As it met the ground, clusters of vines only slightly smaller sprang up about it, tearing the cannons from their housings, rending tents, coiling about unlucky soldiers and strangling or impaling them. The air was filled with screams and creaking sounds. A Charr near Caoilfhion cursed roundly.

“Fall back!” Trahearne cried over the din, somehow keeping his voice steady – Caoilfhionn knew his own would not be – and pointing towards the centre of camp. “Rally to me!”

“The north gate is under attack!” yelled Braham, repeated a moment later by Damara, as an actual Pact officer.

“Annhilda, to the north, push them back! We’ll hold them here!”

“Got it, Marshal! Hope’s Legacy, move it!”

He followed in her long-legged wake, casting spells of Water as he ran to give his allies some relief before they got there. Things were just as desperate to the north as they had been to the south, though. If they could hold out here, then reinforce the south, they could retake the camp, but that was a big ‘if’ right now…

“By the Pale Tree,” gasped a voice beside him, and he looked to see Eithne, her green eyes wide with uncertainty. She lifted her shortbow, but her hands were shaking. “There are so many!”

“Keep shooting,” Caoilfhionn advised her. “Just keep shooting until we prevail.” Though it was fully night now, and Caoilfhionn could barely tell friend from foe – especially with the smoke from the guns and cannons and accidental fires, and the gaseous clouds given off by the Mordrem. At least the Mordrem had those ghastly shapes to distinguish them. “I’ll protect you.”

“I’ll not disappoint you,” she said; that was all she needed to hear to take heart again, it seemed.

“Incoming!” shouted Rhyoll, and another of those massive vines arced down right onto the gate, shattering it instantly, sending up vines to rip apart the cannons and snake threateningly towards the defenders.

“Fall back to Marshal Trahearne!” Annhilda called. “Defend the armoury!”

The Pact ground forces were pressed into a semicircle in front of the armoury, giving as good as they got, but Caoilfhionn couldn’t see an end to the Mordrem. Determination was fading to desperation, hope flickering in his heart… the Mordrem couldn’t have unlimited reinforcements, could they?

“Someone grab a flare,” Trahearne ordered over the din. “Call in the air strike! Everyone else, get to cover! Get to the cliffs! Protect yourselves and each other!”

“I’ve got the flare,” Phiadi cried, jumping forward, darting around and under the masses of husks. When a wolf got in her way, she sent her minions to tackle it and ran on by. Caoilfhionn found Trahearne grabbing his arm, dragging him north to the shelter of the cliff, blocking a wolf that lunged at them with the flat of Caladbolg’s blade. Phiadi’s flare went up, a red rocket arcing into the night from the watchtower rock.

The fleet was moving, stooping low over the camp; the belly guns unfurled on the lead ship, and the camp exploded. Not all at once, but south to north, one ship after another, heavy ordnance chewing through the huge vines and tossing the Mordrem units around like rag dolls. Splinters flew everywhere like chaff, and Caoilfhionn covered his head.

Trahearne cheered as the airships passed by and the bombing run ceased, most uncharacteristic of him – but there were no more moving plants in the camp besides Sylvari. The soldiers picked themselves up slowly, looking around at the destruction; even the Charr seemed dumbstruck by what had just happened. The giant vines had withdrawn, and the remains left behind were scattered across the cratered ground – along with not a few Pact bodies. Most of them had been dead before the bombing run and were now extra-dead and blown apart, but perhaps some of them were still alive-! “Medics!” Trahearne shouted. “Anyone who knows anything about first aid, move! Now!”

Caoilfhionn ran out with the others, channelling Water to help. Trahearne was near him, weaving his own healing spells. Ruadhan was already there; this was his calling, his main skill, and he was putting it to use, his gentle hands binding wounds and soothing burns, with a quirky smile and saucy word to keep his patients’ spirits up as he did so.

They’d lost so many, yet not as many as they might have. The camp was a grim scene, completely destroyed from one end to the other, though fortunately the armoury and docking stations still stood untouched. They worked hard in the darkness of the night, trying to find everyone who still breathed and take care of them, even if they were not going to be in any shape to fight. And the Asura waypoint had been hit during the attack; they would not be able to use it to move wounded in or out right now.

Trahearne assembled the leadership after half an hour of frantic medical work. “All right, everyone. We got lucky that we were mostly loaded up for launch. We won’t get lucky again. I want all the wounded headed east to Ulta Metamagicals and Mrot Boru by sunrise. Don’t bother repairing the camp unless something’s actively about to explode, finish loading the ships instead. I want a final headcount and complete update at sunrise too.”

“Yes, sir!” chorused the officers, and hurried off.

Trahearned turned to Phiadi. “Thank you for getting the flare. You’ve been invaluable.”

“Of course I have,” Phiadi said. “But anyone could have done it.”

“But you did do it. Now – will you be here for launch?”

“Destiny’s Edge absolutely will,” Logan said. “It would kill morale if everyone went after Caithe and her burden.” Zojja cleared the throat in an exaggerated fashion, and Logan levelled a finger at her. “Don’t even start.”

“I have to go after Caithe,” Caoilfhionn said. “It’s my responsibility. And I don’t know if I’ll find her there. But if anyone would rather be certain of catching the launch, don’t let me stop you.”

Trahearne took his hand. “Caoilfhionn, you know I can’t stand the thought of you being vulnerable in unknown territory. Take your whole guild, if they’re willing.”

Annhilda gave him a hard look. “Yes, you don’t know what you’re going to run into out there. Our target is too important to leave to chance. And, the more of us there are, if we do run into trouble, the faster we’ll get out of it.”

“Yeah, Wolf pack!” Braham cheered. “I’m going.”

In the end, almost everyone said they would come with him. Rhyoll did not, saying he’d rather stay with the fleet and keep it in the air.

“Thank you,” Caoilfhionn said, bowing to them all. “I am grateful.”

“And look,” Logan said to him. “Caithe is a linear thinker. She takes everything literally. If she took the egg, it’s because she felt it was necessary. She does nothing without a reason.”

“Thank you, Logan,” Caoilfhionn said. “That’s reassuring.”

“Then get some rest,” Trahearne said. “You’ll want to start early tomorrow to have any chance of getting back from the Far Silverwastes before launch hour, especially with the waypoint destroyed.”

“And you?” Caoilfhionn asked.

“I’ll rest tomorrow,” Trahearne said. “I have to shepherd this army through the night. I’ll wake you if there’s another emergency. Go sleep.”

---

And when Caoilfhionn woke in the ashen grey of dawn, Trahearne was just stumbling into his still-intact tent. “Good morning, beloved.”

“Good morning,” Trahearne said, his words not quite as precise as usual. Caoilfhionn finished putting on his boots and went to embrace him, his affection stirred by his lover’s hard-working weariness.

“Rest well,” he said to him with a fond smile. “You’ve done so much for everyone.”

“Mm,” Trahearne mumbled, and kissed him. “At least we know that bombing will work as expected on the vines, now. Tuck me in?”

Caoilfhion laughed, and steered him to the cot, where Trahearne sat heavily – and then dragged Caoilfhionn into his lap. “I can’t stay long. You know that.”

“How are you so energetic with so little sleep?” Trahearne asked.

Caoilfhionn laughed again. “Cycle of Dawn, beloved. I’ll be cranky later, but right now it’s a new day, and I have important things to do.” But it was tempting to stay just a bit longer, to feel Trahearne’s arms about him, his warmth against him, his bitter green scent musky with smoke and dust and a tinge of blood. To look into those sleepy yellow eyes, tracing the rougher patches of bark on his face with his thumbs, and kiss those firm lips, just one more time… and perhaps one more time after that…

Trahearne let go of him and lay back; Caoilfhionn got up, and true to his word, covered him with the light blanket and kissed him again. “Sleep well, my knight. I’ll see you when I’m back.”

“Have a good adventure, my… prince…” Trahearne murmured, and fell asleep in the middle of the next kiss.

---

7: A Fleet of Airships

It took longer to get to the Far Silverwastes than Caoilfhionn had anticipated, and he began to worry that they would not make it back in time… but that had always been a possibility, and Trahearne knew about it, and understood, so he tried not to worry too much about it. Lighting the runes with the magic torch opened a portal to them, revealing a tall, pitch-black tunnel that wound deep into the ground. They went slowly, following Annhilda with the torch, conversing in low murmurs that echoed through the tunnel, their footsteps scrunching on the sandy floor. Caoilfhionn caught sight of large cobwebs and – yes, they had to fight spiders briefly to get by. Caithe, if she was here, had probably just run by them unseen.

Wegaff tugged at his sleeve partway down the tunnel. “Hey, while we have a moment, I wanted to talk to you. You remember the vision from the Eternal Alchemy device?”

“I do,” Caoilfhionn said in a low voice. It had been imprinted on him indelibly, and he still didn’t understand it, still found his mind a wash of confused feelings to think about it.

“If it is true that Tyria is, essentially, a vast mechanism and the dragons are part of it, then shouldn’t it stand to reason that killing them is not necessarily the right thing to do?”

“Huh?” Of all the people he thought might be a dragon apologist, Wegaff had not been one of them…

“No, no, I know what you’re thinking, I mean machines generally don’t work so well when they’ve parts removed. And yes, I’m aware of all the things they do that threaten our civilization, including the fact that the world will end when they consume all the magic, and that the world will also end if there’s too much magic. And we know that the dragons were defeated ten thousand years ago, but we don’t know at what cost. What if killing these dragons makes the surviving ones stronger? How are we going to defeat the last one? What other issues are going to come up as their number dwindles?”

“We can’t just leave off,” Caoilfhionn said. “They already threaten to consume us all. If the world is out of balance by our actions, we cannot stop halfway.”

“Aye, but I wonder if we’ll come to regret it in the end.”

“I can’t think that way,” Caoilfhionn said. “What if – we have Glint’s egg, right? Glint was not evil, and her child would not be at birth, either. All things have a right to grow! So if we, through the years, centuries, however long, raise this egg to become a dragon who understands us as she did, then when it becomes old and strong enough to be an Elder Dragon, perhaps we will find a way to live in harmony with it, to break this harmful cycle. And we should need the children of the other dragons as well, to keep the balance. And seek to find a balance without leading to deadly static.” Maybe not even to break the cycle, just to tone it down so that neither dragons nor mortals had to lose their lives.

Wegaff scoffed. “I don’t think that’s possible. Us non-dragons don’t live long enough to keep such a relationship going. It would go wrong eventually.”

“Maybe that’s what we Sylvari were born for,” Caoilfhionn said. “No one knows how old we can live, yet. Perhaps we will live long enough to turn from slayers of dragons to wardens of dragons.”

“I’m not saying we can or should stop fighting dragons,” Wegaff said. “But I think we should also not be surprised if the Eternal Alchemy suddenly flips on its head at some point because of what we’re doing.”

“I will be surprised,” Caoilfhionn said, smiling. “I won’t be able to help it.”

“Oh yes, I will probably be too, when it happens. But I won’t be surprised that it happened.”

“What’s that up ahead?” Annhilda said, lifting the divine torch yet higher – but there was a strange gleam from ahead, that did not come from reflecting the light she bore.

They rounded a corner, and everyone stopped in wonder. “Oh, what is this place?” Kasmeer cried.

They’d come out into a massive cavern, and everywhere they looked was gold. The stones were gold, the ruins across from them were gold, even half the jungle plants about them were shining gold. It was all lit by some unseen source of light, perhaps from the sheer concentration of ancient magic there, soft and even and warm. There was a shimmer in the air, as if each gasp set the stones to ringing harmoniously.

“Hmm,” Wegaff said. “This will bear analyzing. Surely these stones are not actually solid gold.”

“I wish it were, though,” Braham said. “Can you imagine what Hoelbrak could build with it?”

“A new lodge honouring one of the Spirits, maybe,” Annhilda said.

“It’s so beautiful,” Caoilfhionn said. “I hope I can show Trahearne, later.”

“Didn’t your vision have a golden location in it?” Marjory asked.

He shook himself. “It did. But I don’t think it was here. It was far greater than this. This is… a taste of what I’m looking for.”

“What we’re looking for,” Damara said. “Well, we’re on the right track, then! Weird, how all these things are intersecting. We went to find a clue about Caithe, and found a clue to the egg instead.”

“Well, Caithe has the egg, so that works for me,” Phiadi said. “Can you get on with it? We still have a launch to catch.”

“Right,” Caoilfhionn said, drawing the last seed from his coat and following where it led him – to an alcove with a sleeping sack tucked in it. Caithe’s, perhaps? There was nothing to mark whose it was, but this was the place. He bent to plant the seed…

---

He woke not very much later, though the magical light had not changed down here, and sat up, tired and confused and upset.

“Caithe has a lot of rough memories, huh,” Damara said. He nodded mutely. “She’s here, by the way.”

He jumped up and ran out to where the others were staring; she was standing on the other side of the cavern, near the tunnel entrance, carrying a large backpack woven of leaves on her back. No doubt the egg was inside.

“Caithe,” he said, as he got closer, and stopped. He didn’t know what to say.

“How did you find this place?” Caithe asked, though she sounded more curious than angry. But still wary. She was not here to give him the egg, he could tell that much.

“Mother gave me memory seeds.”

She stiffened. “Then you know. What Wynne told me, and what I did.”

“Yes. Is it true?”

“Which part?” She shook her head regretfully. “Yes… it’s all true.”

“Why was Wynne the only one to know?” he cried. “How do we not all know?”

“Caoilfhionn, what are you talking about?” Annhilda asked quietly from behind him.

“Her Dream revealed it to her,” Caithe said. “Protecting us from that truth was her Wyld Hunt. If we all knew, everyone in the world would know – and then they would hate us and kill us.”

“You’re not who I thought you were,” he said, angry and upset – he’d looked up to her so much, and her selfishness, her mistakes had destroyed what he had known of her.

“None of us are who others perceive us to be,” Caithe said steadily. “My actions put the future of our race squarely on my shoulders.”

“Now that burden is on me as well,” he said. “And what do I do with it? Do I guard it like you?”

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” she said. “The secret will come out on its own soon enough. Already, Sylvari have been losing control of themselves. Mordremoth won’t stop there.”

He bowed his head and took a deep breath. “Then it is all moot. But I need you to give me the egg, right now.”

“It must be protected,” Caithe said, backing away.

“I will protect it! This task was given to me.”

“You and I are on the same side. Don’t ever forget that, Caoilfhionn.”

“Caithe-” He was cut off by a resounding snarl, and the same dragon champion that had attacked the Pale Mother squeezed through the tunnel, hurling itself towards them.

“The Dragon’s Shadow is upon us!” Caithe cried, and ran, vanishing from sight.

Third time paid for all, he minded himself as the dragon crashed into their midst, summoning minions from the sands and roaring at them. Vines sprang up around them, not the prickly strangling sort, but they formed barriers around them, separating them all from each other. But he was in the ring with the dragon, with Annhilda and Phiadi. It would not escape this time; it could not fly in here. They’d never get a better chance.

He didn’t take his eyes off it as it crept around the edge of the ring, dodging as it lunged to swat at them with a hefty claw, as it lowered its head to breathe corruption at them. His sap thrummed in his veins as he slashed with fire and stone at the vines in his way, getting up close to it – but it drew back, drawing vines before itself, as if to taunt him. Laranthir’s arrows were still stuck in its face around its eyes.

Annhilda lifted the white torch high and swung it with a shout, scorching the vines away, opening a path to the dragon. He didn’t need a second invitation and bolted forward, slamming into the dragon’s shoulder with lightning, rolling away before it could turn and bite him. Phiadi’s minions rushed past him and launched themselves at it mindlessly as she cursed the ground beneath it, trying to drain its lifeforce.

It slammed down its foot nearly on top of him; he dodged but was sent tumbling back, rolling over and over on the cool sand. He picked himself up to see Annhilda running forward with her sword and the torch. It really didn’t seem to like that torch much – if only they could spread its fire-!

He skidded forward on heels of flame, reaching out to the torch to see if he could channel its particular magic, for a time at least, and felt its unfamiliar flow pass to him, like a piece of a cloud. “What are you doing?” Annhilda exclaimed.

His hands were glowing white and his fire sparkled like diamonds. “Let’s force it into a corner! Block the exit so it can’t get away!”

“Haha! I like the way you think.”

“It thought we were trapped in here with it, but really it’s trapped in here with us!” Phiadi said.

“It’s a good thing Trahearne insisted we all come along,” Kasmeer said from the other side of the vines. “Imagine if it had only been the three or four of you.”

“No, let’s not imagine that,” Rox said. “Teragriff on your left!”

“Thanks!”

Caoilfhionn had been carving a huge arc in the sand with his dagger, leaving a trail of white fire; Annhilda was ahead of him, burning away vines before him, and Phiadi was fighting strangling shadows and more vines beside him. The dragon was lunging at them, but still shying away from the fire, screeching at them – no, at him. He was the one it wanted; could it have remembered him from the Grove? Was it connected to the egg?

Well, he wasn’t fighting for mere survival anymore. He was fighting with his friends to slay it for good.

The circle was perhaps three-fourths complete when the dragon roared, slamming its paws into the ground and sending up a wave of stone towards them. Annhilda backpedalled before it struck her, but there were more vines coming up in the wake of the stones, big ones, thick ones. Phiadi summoned a new set of minions with a venomous hiss – and was slapped away by a vine.

The dragon roared and sprang forward, and its left foot landed on Annhilda, crushing her to the ground. Caoilfhionn shouted in concern; the torch rolled away from her limp hand. The dragon’s eyes were on him, and it took a couple more steps towards him, tensing to spring.

He struck first, taking back to Lightning and tearing towards the torch, snatching it up and rolling under the dragon’s jaws. Determination surged through him with every breath, and he sprang to the attack, thrusting the torch into the dragon’s face and letting loose with all his power.

White flame erupted before him and washed over the dragon, which screamed and stumbled away, wings flapping uselessly in the enclosed space. Its face was horribly charred, and he pursued it as the vines gave way before him, as it fled towards the ruins at the back of the cave. It tried to climb them, but lost its grip and tumbled to the sandy floor again. Its exposed throat was right in front of him and he stabbed the torch into the twined branches there, channelling through the torch, and the entire dragon caught ablaze like a pyre.

He stood there a moment, panting, watching it burn from nose to tail, making sure it would never rise again. Then Braham whooped from behind him. “Awesome!”

“Well done, pup,” Annhilda’s voice said creakily from behind him, and he turned to see her sitting up with Damara trying to heal her injuries. “Stop fussing, I’m just bruised and winded.”

“You got stepped on by a dragon,” Damara pointed out. “It could have been a lot worse.”

“But it isn’t.”

“The perfect warm-up to take down Mordremoth!” Braham said.

“Are you going to be all right?” Caoilfhionn asked anxiously, hurrying back to them.

Annhilda grinned. “Yeah. Really. Just bruised.”

“But we lost Caithe,” Kasmeer said. “I’m glad we won, but we didn’t really gain anything…”

“We gained some revenge for the Pale Tree,” Caoilfhionn said. “Every Sylvari will be pleased. Surely Mordremoth cannot summon another lieutenant like that in a hurry.”

“True,” Marjory said. “But now where do we look for her?”

Braham growled. “I’ve had it with her secrets. I know my mother trusts her, but I don’t. She took the egg and we need to get it back.”

“Perhaps Destiny’s Edge will have an idea where she’s gone now,” Kasmeer said. “I know they didn’t before, but perhaps they will now? With the new things we’ve learned?”

“I doubt it,” Phiadi said. “You heard Logan earlier. They didn’t talk about personal things.”

“Either way, we should get back,” Damara said, helping Annhilda to her feet. “I have no idea what time it is in here, but we’re pretty late. And we can’t use the waypoint, it’s broken.”

With no warning at all, there was a burst of intrusive pain in his head – and a burst of tight fear in his chest. He fell to his knees, clutching at both, gasping at the suddenness.

“Caoilfhionn! What’s wrong-?” He could hear a confused cluster of voices around him, dimly.

Slowly, he recovered himself as that rumbling pain in his head left him, but the fear in his chest remained. And he recognized it, though before such feelings had been faint. “Trahearne!” He was bonded to his love, even at this distance, and shared dimly his joys, his sorrows… and now his pain and stress, sharp and clear in its intensity.

“What?” Annhilda knelt in front of him. “Caoilfhionn, please tell us what’s going on.”

He looked up at her. “Something’s happened to the fleet. Trahearne is in danger.”

“They must have launched,” Braham said. “We’re really late.”

“What else?” Annhilda said. “You and Caithe were talking about secrets, and she said it was all going to come out. Can you explain, or is it not time yet?”

He sighed. “Mordremoth created the Sylvari. We are not susceptible to it because we are plants like it is. We are susceptible to it because we are intended to be its minions.”

“What,” chorused most of the group.

“The Dragon called… and I fear many of my people answered against their will.”

“Is that what happened with Aerin and Scarlet?” Phiadi asked.

“Yes. The Mother Tree protects us with the Dream,” Caoilfhionn said, thinking back to what she had said before, thinking back to his vision of the Eternal Alchemy. “Aerin was one of the Soundless, and Ceara too rejected our Mother, so they did not have her protection. But even with her protection, the Dragon is very strong.”

“Can we trust you?” Annhilda said, looking closely into his eyes.

He looked back steadily. “Yes. I know who I am. You know who I am. If I cease to be that person, I trust you will be able to kill me before I hurt anyone.” He didn’t allow himself to think too closely about what that would be like. He couldn’t let anything distract him from the goals setting in his heart like steel. His Wyld Hunt baying like a pack of hounds, his vital quest to protect the dragon egg, and most insistent of all, his heart’s unyielding desire to see Trahearne safe again.

“Kill you!?” Damara cried. “There’s no cure?”

“There wasn’t a cure for the Risen,” Caoilfhionn said, pushing himself to his feet. “I think as long as we fight, we can be saved. But it’s like the Nightmare – once we are lost, we are lost forever.”

“That’s terrible,” Kasmeer said. “I’m so sorry.”

“This is our punishment for being immune to the other dragons, I guess,” Caoilfhionn said. “But first and foremost, I have to get to Trahearne. I fear something terrible has happened.”

“You don’t think he’s been taken over…” Phiadi said.

“No. He has a very strong mind, and loves the Mother Tree. But he’s in danger in other ways.”

“Well, I trust you,” Annhilda said. “You’re part of Hope’s Legacy, to the end. Now let’s go!”

---

They could not go so far without stopping to rest for the night, but even from where they were, they could see the smoke rising from the Heart of Maguuma. Caoilfhionn could not sleep, watching it through the night. He could smell it even from where they were camped. But on the next day, they made it to Amber Sandfall – and found the Pact abuzz with frantic activity there. “Thank goodness we established this position for exactly this purpose,” Annhilda muttered as they looked around.

“You! Sylvari!” Two Norn and a Charr ran towards Caoilfhionn, pointing weapons at him. “Get in the corner with the others!”

Caoilfhionn gasped, taking a step back. He’d known they might have figured it out, but to see all the soldiers looking at him with fear and hostility-

“No,” Annhilda said, stepping in front of him. “Caoilfhionn’s in my guild, and I’m taking him with me.”

“But Commander-”

“No objections!” Annhilda cried. “I trust him and so should you. You all know Caoilfhionn – if he turned it would be quite obvious. Mordremoth’s corruption is not subtle.”

“I… yes, Commander.”

“Now what’s going on over here?” In the corner was a group of Sylvari, sitting with their hands on their heads, while several Charr and humans pointed rifles at them.

“I don’t understand,” said one of the Sylvari, plaintively. “You know us too. We’ve fought and bled alongside you for the Pact.”

The Charr growled. “So did the Sylvari aboard the fleet, and most turned without warning. We’re not taking any more chances with you.”

“But I don’t feel any different. I’m still me, still a loyal member of the Pact.” The other Sylvari nodded.

The rifles didn’t move. “You’re also a dragon minion. You could be an enemy and not know it.”

“This is preposterous. We’re not a threat!”

“Maybe not, but we can’t take that risk. You’re all confined to quarters until this is over.”

“Hello,” Damara said, stepping in, and the Charr turned and saluted her.

“Commander Damara!”

“We don’t have time to deal with this now,” Damara said. “We’re needed where the Fleet went down. But don’t mistreat them. Remember every one of them is here because they wanted to fight against Mordremoth.”

“Yes, Commander.”

Caoilfhionn followed Annhilda, his stomach churning with nerves. She stopped only long enough for them to gather fresh supplies and what sparse intel they could get, and then headed back out to the canyon that led west through the cliffs into the jungle. The sooner, the better – they were all watching him with unfriendly eyes and it made his skin crawl. The Pact had looked on him fondly before, as the Marshal’s lover, and this aboutface shook him deeply.

“This all has… Frostbite a little anxious,” Rox muttered to Braham as they headed out. “I mean, because Destiny’s Edge was on board. I hope they’re okay…”

Braham nodded and muttered back. “I’m with Frostbite. Hope’s Legacy, Destiny’s Edge, and airships killed Zhaitan. How did it go so wrong this time?”

“We’re about to see for ourselves,” Marjory said.

“Oh, look who it is!” Kasmeer cried, and waved.

Taimi was standing near the canyon mouth on top of her golem, waving at them. “Hey, boss! Rata Sum was all abuzz over the Pact Fleet disaster. I knew you’d be going in, so I came to pitch in. Scruffy and I gave these locals a lesson in Mordrem bashing while we waited for you. Oh, and Canach here helped, too.”

“Yes… I ‘helped’,” Canach muttered darkly. “And I thought the Firstborn were full of themselves.” He huffed and looked at Annhilda. “Commander. Countess Anise sent me to support you and represent the Shining Blade in the fight against Mordremoth.”

“Understood,” Annhilda said. “You’ll probably be safer with us, anyway. How did you hear about it so quickly in Rata Sum, Taimi?”

“Good chain of communication, I guess,” Taimi said, and shrugged. “By now, probably all of Tyria knows about it. I mean, this is top-priority news, and Rata Sum’s awfully close to the Heart of the jungle if things get worse.”

“And some news takes months to disseminate,” Phiadi complained under her breath.

“And how’d you get here so quickly?” Braham asked.

“A few friends in the right places, and Scruffy runs faster than you might think.”

“The jungle won’t contain Mordremoth for long,” Canach said. “I also have an obvious personal stake in defeating the jungle dragon. In any case, I am at your disposal.”

“Good,” Annhilda said. “We’re going in. Follow me.”

It took an eternity – or an hour – to traverse the tunnel that led from the desert of the Silverwastes to the humidity of the Heart of Maguuma. He could smell it halfway – and smoke, stronger than before. Finally, finally, they came out into smoggy clouded daylight. A promentory was before him, jutting bare over the jungle depths, and he ran ahead of the others to see.

The jungle stretched out before him, a twisted mass of gigantic vines and burning airships. He had not imagined – could not have imagined – the extent of the destruction. He could not hear the others’ shock and horror through his own fear and grief. “Trahearne!”

 

Part 6: The Agony of Hope