A Tale of Revenge

We are proud to present the prequel fiction that is at the heart of Ultima Online™: Lord Blackthorn's Revenge. Visit us here to get the latest news on the darkness winding its way through the land of Sosaria.

Read on, esteemed traveler, and begin to unravel one of the most intricate mysteries and legends of our land.

Chapter 1: Beginnings

"Time tramples greatness to rubble and dust, but glory is never forgotten. Elder winds sing of the past to those calm enough to listen." — Meer Proverb

Dasha lounged on a tree limb and smiled as the black army marched toward her. A small crossbow rested nearby, but she had not bothered to load it. She knew the forest would shield her from harm. So it had done for a hundred years, and so it would continue to do.

Sunrise crowned the ridge of the valley, and the black army poured down the slopes as if a dam had burst. Helmets and spear tips glinted in the dawn. The air shook with the stomp of countless armored boots. Yet the tall, tangled forest on the valley floor halted their advance like a cliff holding back the sea. So thickly woven was the barrier of trees that military formations dissolved into single-file columns. Streams of men and weapons vanished in the dark lace of the forest's interior.

Hidden near the edge of the treeline, Dasha sat up and crossed her legs under the stout branch that supported her. A veil of sunshine draped across her cheek. She smiled at the warmth. Coppery light glistened on her fine coat of fur, dappled with delicate spots in contrast to her long, athletic physique. For a young Meer woman, Dasha looked uniquely dangerous. She wore neither a dress nor a headscarf but rather an eclectic ensemble of metal and leather, identifying her as a warrior. Rosy hair spilled like blood over her shoulders. Her high, pointed ears twitched in the morning breeze.

She swallowed a chuckle and thought, So it starts again. The Juka shall attack, we shall repel them, and the eternal balance shall assert itself anew. You'd think they might learn from centuries of failure, and yet the Juka will never quit. Battle is their proper nature. So the ancestors recorded long ago.

Somewhere in the distance, she heard a screeching commotion. With ease, she sprang up from her high-flung perch through the loftier branches overhead. When she breached the forest canopy, she peered across an ocean of treetops and spotted the source of the noise. A fountain of crimson shapes erupted from the leaves to the north. Great, red wings unfurled like banners in the sky. It was a tribe of gargoyles fleeing from the woods. The invaders were driving them away. For a moment, Dasha watched the brutish creatures glide toward the low, morning clouds. They possessed a wild beauty that she reluctantly enjoyed.

Then something else rose from the leaves. It was a pillar of smoke that quickly spread. Soon, curtains of black and grey wafted up from the distant greenery. The scent of ash drifted past her. Dasha perked her ears. They're clearing a space to camp, she thought. The Juka must be planning a long battle this time. And why not? The forest is pleasant in autumn. A brisk siege will add spice to the season. I shall enjoy this. I must remember to thank Warlord Kabur before I send him limping back home.

The elders at the stronghold would be interested in this development. With hardly a sound, she ducked back into the trees and navigated toward the deeps of the forest. Like a murky sea was the vast tangle of branches through which Dasha moved unfettered. She became a spotted streak, too quick to follow. Such was the character of the nimble Meer, who were ancient allies to nature's society. Wherever they settled, they befriended the land and traveled as freely as the wind.

The magnificent stronghold of the Meer stood as an island in the center of the forest. Its towers and parapets were a wonder of sorcerous architecture. Every stone of the edifice was marked with a rune, coursing with magical strength. On rare campaigns, in ages past, the Jukan army had managed to reach the mystic fortress, yet never could their battering rams puncture its enchanted walls. The castle was the dauntless heart of Meer civilization, the center of their ancient culture.

Within its opulent chambers dwelled the grey-furred elders, the guardians of ancient lore, draped in robes of fine, flashing silk and mantles embroidered in gold. Greatest among them stood the sorcerer Adranath. Tall and proud in his silvery coat, he strode like a spirit through his people's long history, cloaked in the legend of his centuried career. Adranath was the oldest of all Lore Masters, older by half than the stronghold itself. His great age lent him an air of mystery. His moods and manners echoed a time when the world was a crueler place.

Sometimes, when he was not looking at her, Dasha imagined the years might have wearied the old man's senses. The thought made her uncomfortable. Presently, she delivered her report in his audience chamber, an austere place of shadows and incense. The undecorated walls seemed to listen as she spoke.

When Adranath heard the news, gloom deepened his sigh. His ancient eyes grew dark. "You carry the portent of doom, my child. The magic of our fortress depends upon the vitality of the forest. Without it, our walls will crumble. The more trees the Juka burn, the weaker we become."

Dasha bowed her head. "With respect, Venerable Master, they would have to burn down the entire forest before our walls might fail us. They have never attempted such an atrocity before."

"And you are confident they will not do so now?"

"They are militant and aggressive, but they keep strong traditions of honor. I know they would not betray their values. I have fought the Juka for many of their generations." She lifted her chin as if proud of the accomplishment.

Adranath leaned back in his tall chair and grunted, "You underestimate their reclusive lord. He has brought great changes to the Juka in the last decade."

"You mean the one they call Exodus? He fears to show his face to us. He is hardly a threat."

"He has taught them sorcery."

She frowned. "Healing and petty enchantments. Even I am more of a sorcerer than the Juka shall ever be. Venerable Master, I don't understand your apprehension. The ancient balance between Juka and Meer has never faltered before. What makes this attack dangerous?"

"Because Exodus is dangerous," grumbled the sorcerer. "He is an impurity in our world. I fear he will upset the old balance. A harsh winter looms ahead of us, my child, and if the Juka overcome us we shall face a catastrophe. I fear we may not survive."

At that moment Dasha knew that Adranath's age had enfeebled him. Even a legend must fade in time. With conjured grace she excused herself from the old wizard's chamber and returned to the forest, where her fellow officers had begun to organize the defense of their magical home. She tried to forget Adranath's presage of ruin, the brooding of his senile mind.

Yet long ago the ancestors had warned against dismissing the counsel of elders. For Dasha and her fellow soldiers, the lesson proved devastating.

Terror is a wall of embers rushing toward one's home. In the ensuing days the Meer battled two enemies at once: the relentless onslaught of Jukan warriors and the roaring fury of the blazes they had set. The Jukan troops drove back all efforts by the Meer to extinguish the inferno. The sun vanished behind a storm of black smoke. With horror Dasha realized that the castle was not under attack. The leader of the Juka, Warlord Kabur, intended to level the ancient forest itself. The crime was an affront to Jukan honor as Dasha had always known it.

Defeat came as a red blast of heat and a blizzard of ash and cinders. As the Meer abandoned their crumbling stronghold, the Jukan warriors charged out from the smoke and felled them like brittle timber. Dasha fled with the survivors while the holocaust devoured the lush woodland. The forest had been her home for a hundred years. It was vanishing in less than a week.

She and her fellow soldiers had succeeded in evacuating the elders. Even now some were plotting their sorcerous revenge. But Dasha nurtured a different rage. Her obsidian eyes sharpened as she ran through the fiery gloom. She knew what must be done.

Adranath, of course, had been correct. The lord called Exodus had corrupted the Juka by some unthinkable sorcery. To craft a strategy against the enemy, Dasha had to learn what had happened to the Juka. It was a question she would put to their leader, Warlord Kabur himself. Dasha would meet him face-to-face and demand an explanation. If his answer did not satisfy her, she would meet him blade-to-blade.

In that case, she knew, satisfaction would be hers. Then the elders would return the holocaust to the Juka and the eternal balance would assert itself anew. Such was the proper course of history, which could not be diverted. So the ancestors had promised, countless generations ago. Of that, if nothing else, Dasha had no doubt at all.

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Chapter 2: The Challenge

Alone on a cliff overlooking the Jukan fortress, Dasha removed her eclectic armor of leather and polished metal. A warm wind ruffled her spotted fur. Obsidian eyes captured the valley before her, watching for a fiery signal.

The sunset at her back transformed the sky into a giant, lavish theater. Yet onlookers from the valley below would not recognize her silhouette among the high, jumbled crags. Neither could she make out individual Juka upon the fortress walls or amid the sea of roofs surrounding it. The only movement inside the city came from waking lanterns. Cook fires smudged the sky with bitter plumes. The evening air rolled around the valley in a mild, temperate breeze, late autumn's denial of the oncoming cold.

The Meer warrior crouched on a smooth-topped boulder, her armor in a neat pile beside her. She did not need it at the moment. No Jukan patrols came this far up the rocky slopes. The only inhabitants of these dry mountains were tribes of gibbering humans, whose crude weapons posed her no threat. Clothed in the wind, she called on the spirits of the exalted ancestors to guide her through this pivotal night. Once the Juka ignited the signal torch below, the trial of two races would begin.

The spirits came to Dasha as a tingle in her belly. The sensation fanned out to her limbs and face, a suffusion of power and tranquility. She welcomed the presence. The ancestors comprised the wisest of the Meer, those elders who had crafted long, fruitful lives and then passed on to a purer state. From their ethereal city of crystal spires they watched the baser realms, aiding young spirits who trod the earth and trees. Dasha was grateful for their help. Though she was an esteemed warrior and officer, her life had spanned less than two hundred solstices. She was still too fleshbound to know enlightenment. If she were to die tonight, her spirit would return in a new Meer body and continue the lessons of material existence. Only with the passage of centuries would she join her exalted ancestors in the holy spires of the afterlife.

Of course, Dasha did not plan to die tonight. She would face the mightiest of Jukan warriors and extract from him an explanation. The Jukan army had destroyed the forest home of the Meer. She would learn why her enemies had betrayed their own traditions of honor. The ancient balance of Juka and Meer depended on the answer.

A new light blinked in the city. Atop a high tower of the stone-walled fortress appeared a single, starlike flame. Dasha's heart quickened. That was the signal. Warlord Kabur had agreed to her proposition. He would arrive within an hour.

Blessed with the guidance of the eternal ancestors, she collected her armor in a satchel and crept off into the twilight.

When Dasha had lived in the old forest, dusk had fallen like long, dark eyelashes. She would miss that restful sight. Here in the mountains the night rolled in like an avalanche of shadows, swallowing up boulders and scrub. She slid without a sound through the labyrinthine gloom. Her destination was a cave pressed between two jagged rocks, where the calm breeze whistled. In the ground before the cave opening she stuck a crossbow quarrel. Then she walked into the cool, black entrance and began to don her gear. As she did so, she reviewed her knowledge of the enemy she had fought for a century.

The Juka were a brutal race, hard of flesh and hard of will. Though sophisticated in their skills and culture, they hungered most of all to enjoy life's infinite sensations. This sublime urge for pleasure was crowned by a roaring lust for combat. The Jukan clans fought each other with unrelenting fervor. And when a single clan came to dominate the others, the united Juka would turn their aggression toward the neighboring society of the Meer. The wars between the two races echoed through legend and history.

Yet unlike the Meer, the Juka did not enjoy the privilege of reincarnation. These jade-skinned warriors passed through the world only once, bound for the Great Hall of Honor if they died with distinction, bound for oblivion if they died in disgrace. And so the Juka absorbed themselves in the pursuit of glory and honor. At the core of their society lay a tradition of unshakable virtues, of courage and honesty and respect for one's enemy. Their souls depended on strict adherence to this code. The Juka called it the Way, as if there were no other.

The Jukan army had trampled the Way when they burned the Meer forest to the ground. Their mysterious new lord, the strangely-named Exodus, had commanded them to do so. But Dasha knew the Juka could neither be persuaded nor coerced into dishonor. Foul sorcery alone could account for the drastic change. She intended to confirm her suspicion by speaking to Warlord Kabur himself. Only with this knowledge could the Meer proceed with their just revenge.

Thankfully the ancestors brought calm to Dasha's mind, for her blood burned to meet the general who had destroyed her people's ancient home.

From inside, the cave mouth was a slash of fading colors. The light vanished when an enormous shape filled the gap. Dasha flinched. A deep voice boomed, "I should not be surprised by this gesture of yours. Single combat is the only hope you have left for victory."

Warlord Kabur brought a lantern into the cave. His other hand clutched the crossbow quarrel. It looked small in his grip. Kabur was a giant of a warrior even among his strapping race. Robust armor of steel and gold padding accentuated his size. Like all Juka he seemed dour to her, with no nose, reptilian eyes and a small, hard mouth. But Kabur's face revealed something more, a cunning that sharpened his glance. She felt compelled to match his stare with her own.

"Yet you have come to meet me," she said, "according to the ritual of the Black Duel. I challenge you to explain your dishonorable conduct, and to atone for it."

The general grunted, "I did receive the note and silk scarf you left me. You know much of the customs of the Juka."

"I have fought your kind since before your grandfather was born. I know that the Juka have always honored the Way. And I knew that you would respect the Black Duel and meet me in secret."

Kabur's emerald lips twisted into a smirk. "I have razed the forest of yours and you still imagine that I am bound to the old codes?"

"Your grandfather and father respected duels of honor. The reputation of your clan instructs you to do the same."

"I am forging a new reputation. Victory beckons me now."

He stepped deeper inside the tall cave and away from the narrow entrance. Dasha heard the clatter of footsteps outside. She hardened her eyes. "Your soldiers will die if they interrupt us."

"There is no Black Duel to interrupt. I have come to bring you before Exodus. Much has changed among the clans, though I would not expect a Meer to understand."

And she knew then that her life was in danger. Kabur had abandoned the Way. He had accepted the challenge of single combat as a ruse to capture her. An instant later the cave filled with sound as a stream of Jukan soldiers intruded. The tips of their spears flashed in the light of Kabur's lantern.

Naturally she had accounted for such a betrayal. Without hesitation she leapt among her attackers.

Like all Meer warriors, her skill with weaponless combat overmatched the Jukas' clumsy polearms. She moved like mist around and between them, striking at the joints of their leathery bodies, crushing steel plates against veins and bones so that their own armor became a weapon against them. When the soldiers clustered together, she scattered them with quick spells that flashed away the shadows. In seconds their bodies strewed the rocky ground.

More soldiers shouted outside. Dasha caught her breath. She could not defeat an entire army, but her objective was now at hand. No Juka blocked the way to Warlord Kabur. She sprang at the giant warrior. He bellowed in response and whirled a fallen soldier's halberd in her path. She ducked its lethal blade, then latched a grip on the weapon's long haft. With a lightning move she dropped to the ground and threw Kabur deeper into the cave.

He vanished the instant he passed over a blink rune that Dasha had inscribed on the cave floor.

She followed quickly. The magic spell wrapped her in light. She appeared inside another cave, deeper within the mountain. With her boot she erased the matching rune underfoot, to prevent other Juka from coming through. Then she rose to her full, proud height, facing the startled warlord who was regaining his bearings.

They stood inside a ring of candles that defined a dueling space. A vast, dark cavern hovered around them. In the dense stillness of the underworld Dasha crossed her arms and murmured, "I invoked the Black Duel so we might talk unhindered. I intend for us to do so whether you spurn me or not."

The fluttering candlelight revealed fury in the Juka's eyes. He snapped two fists around the shaft of his halberd. "If you wanted to persuade me to fight, then you have succeeded, Dasha. By the Great Mother, I shall cut you down like I did the forest of the Meer!"

Like a storm he roared upon her with a series of attacks she did not recognize. She was forced to somersault backwards to evade the strokes of his blade. Then he prepared another charge. For a brief moment Dasha wondered if she might not have misjudged Warlord Kabur again. The exalted ancestors remained inside her, but even they had not encountered a dishonorable Juka before. Could ancient wisdom overcome this strange, black renaissance of the Jukan enemy?

Dasha grumbled to herself, Fight first, then interrogate. If he would rather die than explain his misdeeds, it shall not pain me to oblige him! And she charged as furiously as the hulking warlord himself, her eyes ablaze with a lust for revenge.

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Chapter 3: Clash in the Darkness

In a ring of brassy candlelight, the Meer and the Juka charged one another with howls of animal rage. The dense gloom of a forgotten cavern echoed the furious sounds.

Dasha, unarmed as per the Meer style, struck Kabur like a hailstorm. Her blows pounded the warlord relentlessly, echoing through the cavern. Every kick ignited the fury of her burning memories, her anger an inferno like the forest Kabur had destroyed. She tasted the tang of Jukan blood and the sharp sting of adrenaline. The primal percussion of combat fueled her hunger for vengeance, a dangerous thrill that spread through her body.

Yet Kabur's heavy armor turned her attacks aside, deflecting the force with a brutal efficiency. His massive body absorbed her strikes with an ease that left her frustrated. In response, the warlord wheeled his halberd in a deadly arc. The weapon lashed toward her like a serpent, and she danced away, her reflexes barely keeping her out of harm’s reach. But she knew the truth: one mistake would end the battle.

That mistake came sooner than she anticipated. Kabur’s halberd surged toward her, and though she leapt, the blade caught her hip. The strike sent a sharp pain ripping through her side, and she retaliated with a desperate kick to his face. Tumbling into a crouch, she pressed a hand to her burning wound, her breaths coming fast and shallow.

Kabur, bloodied but unbowed, spat on the ground. "Where is the mouth of this cave?" he growled.

Dasha glared at him. "You're retreating?"

"Another blow finishes you. I don’t intend to waste time searching in the dark."

Gritting her teeth, she rose to her feet. A soft light spread from her fingertips as a healing spell soothed her pain. The spirits of her ancestors quieted her rage for a moment, allowing her to study Kabur through calmer eyes. Streaked with sweat and blood, the towering Juka looked more animal than warrior under the flickering candlelight. Yet despite his arrogance and brutality, she could not help but admire the strength of his will. The Juka were brutal, yes, but proud. In their finest moments, they rivaled the sophistication of the Meer.

But those moments were fading. Something had corrupted the Juka, dragging them back to savagery. Adranath, the Lore Master of the Meer, had warned that the sorcerer Exodus was to blame. Dasha had come here to confirm that truth. Only by understanding the Jukas’ fall could her people hope to rise again.

"Tell me, Kabur," she demanded. "How did Exodus destroy the Jukan Way?"

Kabur’s reptilian eyes glinted dangerously. "It is not the concern of a Meer."

"Has he enslaved your minds? Nothing else could sever a Juka from his honor."

The warlord snarled. "The honor of the Juka is intact! It has evolved. Your kind clings to the past, pretending that time cannot erode it."

Dasha smirked. "If that’s true, why ambush me? Using the Black Duel as a trap is far from honorable."

"As you used it to force this conversation," Kabur retorted. "The Black Duel is obsolete—a relic of a dead age. The Way you revere is gone, and the Meer will follow it."

Her eyes narrowed. "Exodus has poisoned your mind. But perhaps this corruption can be undone."

"Enough of your delusions!" Kabur roared. "Take them to your grave!"

He charged, halberd raised. Dasha dropped into a defensive stance, prepared to meet his fury. But before their weapons clashed, a thunderous growl rippled through the cavern. Both warriors froze as the sound reverberated in the darkness. Something massive stirred in the shadows. Dasha’s ears twitched. It seems that humans are not the only beasts lurking in these mountains, she thought grimly.

But Kabur took advantage of her hesitation. The halberd arced toward her, slicing through her armor and the flesh beneath. She cried out, stumbling backward as blood spilled down her chest. The next blow struck her shoulder like a landslide, throwing her to the ground. Pain surged through her limbs, rendering them useless. She lay in the dirt, her vision swimming.

Above her, Kabur loomed, his weapon poised for the final strike. Despite her agony, she met his gaze with defiance. "You’ve defiled everything the Juka once stood for," she rasped.

The warlord sneered. "I am preserving their future. But you Meer are too blind to see the truth. What you call 'balance' is nothing more than stagnation. While we fought your endless wars, the humans and gargoyles grew stronger. Soon, they will threaten us both. Exodus showed us the path forward. To survive, the Juka must dominate."

"Dishonor wears noble plumage," Dasha murmured, "but the wise are not deceived."

Kabur’s lip curled. He raised the halberd high—but paused. His pointed ears twitched as the sound of heavy, lumbering footsteps drew closer. A snuffling breath filled the air, accompanied by the sharp scrape of claws against stone.

"Judge me how you will," Kabur muttered. "Delusions will not save you."

And then he was gone, vanishing into the shadows. The monstrous presence grew nearer, its breath thick in the air. Dasha struggled to move, but her injuries chained her to the ground. The ancestors’ whispers offered no comfort. This mission had failed. Kabur was too deeply corrupted, and now he had left her to die alone.

She glanced toward the faint glow of the candles, the only barrier between her and the approaching beast. Reincarnation awaited her, of course, but in what form? She could not guess. Perhaps the Meer would no longer exist if Kabur’s genocide succeeded. But she dismissed the thought. Her people would endure. They always had.

As the creature's scaled body glistened in the dim firelight, Dasha exhaled one final sigh, her obsidian eyes closing against the darkness.

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Chapter 4: The Beast

Said a voice in her mind, Wake, child of earth, for the reckoning day is at hand.

Dasha knew the ancestors had called her to rise again. Yet the cry of her wounds informed her that she had not moved at all. She lay on the ground in the forgotten cave, a helpless meal for a dark-dwelling predator. The huge beast slavered nearby.

When her eyes cracked open, she saw the warm gold of the candlelight. It sparkled on the reptile's glassy scales. It gleamed on two rows of serrated teeth. This was her fate as rendered by Warlord Kabur, the greatest warrior of a race beset by the tragedy of dishonor. The Juka had embraced savagery again. Her hatred became an ember inside, stoked by each of the beast's rancid breaths.

Said a voice in her mind, Delusions will not save you.

But it was Kabur's voice she heard. Those were his last words before abandoning her.

The beast thumped closer, materializing from the darkness. It was weighty and low, its tail dragging, its talons chafing the cavern's stone floor. Dasha tensed her body. Her strength was gone. She was too weak to heal herself, too weak to fight, but perhaps not too weak to flee. In the beast's own lair she had little hope of escaping, yet she resolved to die on the move. The ancestors had presented her a few more seconds of life. She would honor the gift.

Her spine arched as she prepared to stand. The monster, startled, drew back into the gloom and exhaled a sultry hiss. Dasha got her feet beneath her and rose to a half-crouch. The exit lay beyond the creature. Escape hinged on the first move she made.

Something behind her glinted in the firelight. She glanced back to see a long weapon lying in the dust. It was Kabur's halberd. Her blood painted its steely edge.

The Juka had left her a weapon with which to defend herself.

Her heart quickened. She did not have the strength to fight unarmed, but the halberd gave her a chance to ward off the reptile. With a backstep she retrieved the polearm. The monster parted its mighty jaws and crept forward, its putrid hiss announcing an attack. Dasha gripped the halberd's shaft, tested its weight, then slashed the blade across the beast's eely tongue. A percussive roar thundered in the cavern.

She sprang past the long-bodied creature and stumbled into the darkness. A muscular tail lashed about her. She knelt beneath it and chopped the meat with a desperate stroke of the halberd. The beast howled and spun around. She thrust with the spike at the tip of her weapon, which met the reptile's open maw and punctured the softer flesh within. Dasha expended the last of her strength to push the spike deeper and deeper. Then she scrambled away. The monster howled and thrashed behind her.

Through the pain of her injuries, she forced herself to stagger on. Through the blackness she groped for the exit that lay ahead. When the predator did not give chase she felt a surge of relief, though she did not allow it to weaken her pace. A single thought burned in her mind: Kabur did not leave me to die. He left me alive to prove I was wrong. There is honor in him yet, damn that cunning snake!

And onward she reeled through the rocky gloom until all sense of direction had passed. Then black stone turned to glimmering crystal and she found herself in the arms of Meer healers. They brought her to the hollows under the mountains where her displaced people had sought refuge, where long ago the ancestors had dwelled in the crystalline bosom of the earth. In a flashing hall they dispelled her wounds. Then they led her to Master Adranath's emerald chamber. There she recounted her tale to the wizened sorcerer, who answered with a doleful sigh.

"Do the Juka know honor? Little does it matter, child. Their lord Exodus has loosed a fell wind over Ilshenar that cannot be retracted. Our people are devastated and winter is nigh. We must strike down the Juka for their crime."

"But Venerable Master, I tell you that they are not irretrievable. They are more brutish than before, but not greatly so. Exodus has led them astray. Let us kill him and restore the Juka to their proper state. The ancient balance need not be foregone."

"You are an officer, Dasha. Take what action you will. But our spells are prepared and our warriors stand ready. Tomorrow our enemies learn the price of disdaining the natural order."

Morning came unseen in those glittering temples of crystal and fire. She spent many hours among the Meer troops, surveying the ranks of armored soldiers hungry for revenge. Never had she seen them gathered in such a vast display. When they moved, they glided in perfect unison. Magic lustered around them like stars. Her heart swelled with dark joy at the brilliance of her people. Indeed the Juka would regret their deeds when the battle roared upon them.

Yet the Juka were not the truest enemy. The ancestors themselves had forced her to learn that lesson. Rather the one called Exodus had brought this nightmare to the world, and it was he that Dasha would hold accountable. When the Meer army set forth, she would take her grievance to the Juka's mysterious lord. Perhaps then might real justice arise from this chaos. Perhaps then might she quell the embers that still smoldered and sparked inside her.

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Chapter 5: Revenge

The army of Meer rose above the Jukan city like a second dawn. Over the crest of the mountains, they came in mighty numbers, silent and sure on the jagged terrain, resplendent in a halo of magical light. From the ridgeline, they surveyed the valley below, where a field of grey rooftops surrounded an immense fortress. The buildings seemed small in the radiance of the gathering Meer. The wind itself shrank from the luminous invaders, turning the valley somber and still.

But a darker force collected at the base of the mountain range. In troops, the Juka outnumbered their enemies six to one, massing in the fields between the city and the slopes, swarming the passes through the steep, towering cliffs. Countless shields and spears stood ready. Catapults squatted amid a legion of archers. Standards flashed proudly in the morning sun, a testament to the Jukan hunger for battle.

The stillness of the valley faded as the Jukan army murmured, then rumbled, then roared its impatience at the cowardly Meer who hesitated before attacking.

From a high peak, Dasha smirked at their exuberance. The Juka had not risen far above their savage roots. Their zeal was endearing in a childlike way. But like children, they did not comprehend the enemy they had wakened. The Meer would beset them like a brilliant storm. Revenge would be satisfying, and mournful as well. She would lament the death of Jukan innocence. Yet they had robbed her people of something more precious. They had summoned the storm upon themselves.

She prayed it would not mean the end of their race, for they were pawns of a genuine evil. Exodus was the true enemy of the Meer. Today she meant to prove it in the fires of combat.

When she was satisfied that the Jukan army had arrayed itself for battle, she lifted her hand and cast a spell. A golden beam shot into the sky. At the signal, the Meer called upon the first of their allies.

For untold centuries, the mountains had numbered among the Meers' closest friends. The exalted ancestors had shared in crystalline secrets hidden from the rest of the world. When the Juka destroyed Dasha's forest home, her people had taken refuge under the welcoming earth. Now they called upon that ancient alliance once more. The mountains answered with a rocky growl.

The Juka silenced when the cliffs began to shake. Then great slabs cracked loose high above the mountain passes. The Juka fled like a receding tide as boulders and rubble smashed atop them. Giant stone pillars split from the mountainsides and fell like thundering hammers. A cloud of dust engulfed the Juka, then the attack vanished into echoes.

The Meer watched silently as the dust rolled away. The Jukan forces assembled at the edge of the landslides. Their numbers were cut by a quarter.

With a peal of rage, they challenged their enemy to face them once again.

The second attack was louder than the first. Where the cliffs had grumbled, the earth bellowed as it rose under the Jukas' feet. In a flash, the earthquake raced across the valley floor like ripples on a giant pond. Great rifts sheared the ground and swallowed men and buildings. Segments of the city disappeared into swirls of dust and debris. What remained of the Jukan troop formations scattered into chaos and death.

Then from the ragged fissures in the earth flew many dark clouds that poured across the valley. From her high vantage, Dasha flinched at the sight. This was the most nightmarish attack of all. The elders had summoned a host of stinging insects. Their venom struck like poison arrows. They were refugees from the forest as well, and so their wrath was doubly terrible. Dasha knew no Juka would escape their fury.

She closed her eyes when screams and smoke arose from the ruined city.

But she took a deep breath and steeled herself. The time had come to march on the Juka and finish the morning's work. The city and its fortifications would fall quickly. When she looked out at the great fortress, she saw only spare damage to its walls. There was no doubt that sorcery had saved it from the earthquake. With narrowed eyes, she thought, I trust that means you're at home, Exodus.

Around her, the ranks of the Meer quietly descended the mountainside. So gentle was their step that the treacherous footing posed no danger. The landslides had left behind high slopes of rubble, creating an easy path to the bleak battlefield. The glow of the warriors' enchantments bathed the valley in magical light. The army of insects drew back from the oncoming glare.

The Jukan soldiers, bloodied, disarrayed, poisoned, and devastated, greeted the invaders with dauntless ferocity. The two sides clashed in a chorus of war cries. The earth would drink much more blood before the day had ended.

But Dasha did not join the advance Meer companies. Their purpose was to secure a path to the center of the city. Once this was accomplished, the Lore Masters and Matriarchs would enter the valley and cast the final stroke. Master Adranath had prepared an ancient ritual to seal the defeat of the Juka. Once it was performed, the old sorcerer promised, the threat to the Meer would cease.

Dasha thought better of the Juka than Adranath did. She would not see them destroyed forever. One last time she brought her case before the wizard, as he watched the battle from a high-flung ledge. With a bow, she murmured, "Venerable Master, I beg you. Please delay your spell until I have reached Exodus. If we remove his influence, I am confident the Juka will return to their proper role."

The old man grunted. "Today shall witness the end of the Juka."

"They have already been punished. Surely they deserve to be freed from Exodus's control, to heal and reflect. The balance between the races—"

"We have been decimated! The old balance has ceased to exist. All that remains is revenge."

She lowered her tone. "I must respectfully disagree."

He opened a grimace that chilled her. "Your eyes betray your prejudice. You believe that my mind is addled, that old age has sapped my wisdom. But let me tell you the nature of age, Captain Dasha. Wisdom is an artifact of experience. Wisdom respects the inevitability of change. But the young know only established orders and customs, and so you are reluctant to accept change. This is why the young are trapped in the cycle of reincarnation. Your spirits are not yet confident enough to stand on their own." He regarded her with a disapproving sigh. "You must let go of the past. The Juka are not who they once were. Neither are we. Today the old order is finished."

She had no answer for the ancient wizard, yet her convictions remained. The Juka were not irredeemable. If she was simply being young and stubborn, the ancestors must judge her accordingly. She conjured the strength to match Adranath's gaze and said, "I shall try to reach Exodus unless you command me otherwise. If I have to do it before you cast your spell, then I respectfully ask to be on my way."

The grey-furred master twitched his ears. With a frown, he muttered, "Do what you must, child. The passing of your soul will be sorrowful indeed. You might have been a great leader, in time."

"I shall yet be, Master."

Adranath ignored the boast with a grave expression. Dasha sprang down the mountainside with a prayer to the exalted ancestors: Take Master Adranath among you soon, for his earthbound soul is afflicted with gloom. Perhaps the crystal spires of the afterlife can restore his vigor.

A band of fifty warriors met her at the base of the slope. She led them into the clamorous horror that one hour before had been a city. The ground was ruffled and cracked, buildings lay toppled and burning, the victims of the stinging insects wailed in swollen pain. Yet the Jukan warriors fought on. Quick and brutal were the battles Dasha met. Before she reached the fortress walls, two hundred Juka lay slain in her path. A dozen of her own company had fallen as well.

Before them loomed the mighty fortress, its stones barely marked by the day's terrible events. She gathered her warriors to scale the high wall. Their enchantments still shone in the smoke of war, repelling the arrows of the Juka who manned the parapets. As the Meer started to climb, another light appeared. Dasha did not recognize the spell. So, Exodus, she smiled, you are inside! But what trick do you have for us now? The light seemed to encompass the entire valley. She braced for some effect, when her spine suddenly tingled. The valley was not aglow. She was aglow. The spell was directed at her.

And a moment later, she stood in a chamber she presumed was inside the fortress. A ring of Jukan warriors surrounded her, their spears penning her at the center of the floor. They looked unaffected by quakes and insects, save for the largest among them. Warlord Kabur must have returned here from the front lines. His armor was pale with dust from the landslides. His emerald skin cascaded with angry stings. Blood painted his massive form. Dasha knew that it was not Jukan blood.

"You are mad to come," snarled the giant warrior.

"I am here because of your own honor," she replied, "since you left me a weapon in the cave. You gave me life and I thank you for it. And yet you did not cast the spell that reeled me into this room. Where is your lord Exodus? It is he with whom I have business this morning."

"And I with you," boomed a deep voice. It emerged from the shadows of an alcove. Dasha could not see into the darkness, except for the sparkle of a few gemstones. "Forgive an improper welcome, Captain Dasha, but the day has been a busy one."

"Surely you know why I have come. You have corrupted the Juka. I mean to restore the old balance between our peoples."

"Yes, you must save the Juka, but I am not the target you want. There is greater treachery afoot at the hands of your Lore Master Adranath. He seeks to restore a balance, as well. The ritual he intends to perform will erase the Juka from Ilshenar. And Captain Dasha, the Meer shall fall with them. Adranath seeks the tranquility of oblivion for both races. Time runs short for us all."

And she knew that Exodus spoke the truth, for he had identified the nature of Adranath's despair. Now she understood the Lore Master's statement, All that remains is revenge. Her body shot through with icy panic. The ancient wizard had indeed gone mad. And she was the only Meer who would dare to stop him.

Her tone was sharp and low. "Damn you, sorcerer, for putting this on me! But I'll need help. Come, Warlord Kabur, if you have the courage to stand against a Meer elder."

The Juka seemed trapped between a frown and a laugh, but he answered by lifting his bloody spear in an abbreviated form of salute.

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Chapter 6: Inferno

The explosion shook the fortress and hurled Dasha to the floor. The Jukan warriors around her toppled in a clatter of armor and spears. She regained her bearings and glanced about the room. The stone walls had cracked. The floor shifted. The fortress verged on collapse.

Master Adranath's ritual had begun. The demise of the Juka and Meer was at hand, unless Dasha and Kabur acted quickly.

She rose to her knees and barked, "Exodus! Do something to give us time, sorcerer!" From her fingertips leapt a spell that illuminated the shadowy alcove, but the Juka's mysterious lord was not there. He had left behind a curious altar or pedestal, studded with flickering gemstones and inset with silver, geometric patterns. She muttered, "Where is your revered master, Kabur, in the face of danger?"

The warlord growled, "The Juka do not hide behind wizards. We fight with our own hands!" Then he charged through a doorway. Dasha followed him. They emerged atop the high wall at the front of the massive fortress. From this vantage they saw the Jukan city spread around them, devastated by the earthquakes of the morning's battle. Chaotic melee poured blood through the streets. And a new terror began to engulf the wide valley.

Several dozen Meer elders formed a ring around the fortress, shining fiercely in the thick of a magic spell. The northern point of the circle was occupied by Master Adranath himself. At his gesture great rings of fire rippled out from the elders, blazing through the city in a brilliant conflagration. Dasha threw up an arm to block the heat from her face. The fortress rocked at the hammer impact of the flames, which sprayed and tossed like a hellish ocean wave. Then black smoke swallowed everything and Dasha pulled away from the edge.

Her heart slammed painfully. Exodus had been right. Adranath was conducting the slaughter of everyone in the valley, both Juka and Meer. The holocaust pounded the city in relentless surges. So terrible was the heat that her fur began to singe. She knew it was already too late to save the countless thousands trapped on the ground. Her head swam in despair. Ancestors, do not forsake us! We do not deserve this end!

From out of the smoke reached a powerful hand. It plucked her into the air and held her there. She saw Warlord Kabur's green face, twisted with a terrible rage. "My people!" he screamed. "What have you done? By the Great Mother, you have killed us all!"

She saw Kabur's face, the face of the man who had organized the destruction of the Meers' home forest. He was a hapless pawn of Exodus, perhaps, but he was guilty nonetheless. His naivete had initiated this war. He owned responsibility as much as Adranath. Her horror turned into a blast of anger and she howled as she kicked him in the chest. He let go of her, then tumbled off the wall.

She peered over the edge. He had not dropped into the inferno, but had landed on a narrow, stone bridge that connected the fortress to a freestanding tower. He sprang to his feet and hurled his spear. She leapt aside with a margin of inches. But when her feet touched down again, the wall vibrated at the crash of Adranath's spell. Large blocks of stone fell free. Dasha careened through the air and landed beside Kabur. The warlord unsheathed a heavy sword and lunged at her.

Blind fury drove her now. To her perception Kabur's blade moved like molasses. She dodged it and smashed blow after blow on his injured body. The warlord staggered but she did not stop. With each strike the fortress shook, the flames roared, the smoke clogged her aching lungs. Then Kabur's sword found a gap in her defense. The point shoved into her belly. But the pain meant nothing to her. To his smoky form she bellowed, "Your gullibility has ruined us! Is this how the Juka face eternity?"

Warlord Kabur knew his own part in this nightmare. She could see the mad anguish in his reptilian eyes. With a scream he pushed the sword deeper inside Dasha's abdomen. For an instant her body faltered. Her eyesight flickered. Then the blade was gone from inside her.

The miasma of pain and fire and smoke made time drag slowly. She saw the stone bridge crumble under the Juka's feet. He flailed his arms for balance as he dropped into the flaming air.

A voice in her mind said, Is this how the Meer face eternity?

With strange detachment she watched her hand reach for Kabur. She grabbed his wrist and he gripped hers. His great weight almost jerked her off the bridge, but she pulled him up from the hungry flames as her own strength faded. Then she collapsed in a whorl of heat. She felt the warlord hoist her in his arms and run to the tower at the end of the bridge. There they knelt behind a fallen stone.

"The Juka live with honor," he growled.

"Let's make sure that we live at all." Her fingertips were bloody. In the dust and soot of the tower roof she inscribed a blink rune. With a prayer to the ancestors she activated the spell. Light blanketed them, pale and cool.

They appeared in heavy darkness. Sounds echoed from the hard walls of a cavern. Dasha lit a magic glow to reveal the same cave in which they had conducted their duel several nights earlier. A single glance was enough to agree them. Quickly she healed the worst of their wounds, then they ran for the distant mouth of the cave. On a high slope they emerged to see what damage Master Adranath had done.

The valley was a bowl of flame that slopped over the mountainous edges. Smoke rose from beyond the ridgeline where the inferno was proceeding across the landscape.

No one had survived in the city or on the mountainsides. So proudly had each race mustered its forces that few Juka or Meer remained alive in other places. In the best of circumstances, survival would have been difficult now. And the deadly frosts of winter lurked weeks or days away.

In silence they watched the column of smoke billow from the valley, like a giant monument on an unthinkable grave.

Inside the cave they found the huge predator that had nearly eaten Dasha. It was close to death from its wounds, weak from blood loss. Together they killed it. The meat would sustain them until the fires diminished.

Two days later they left the cavern again. Side by side they gazed down at the black valley. Little remained now but piles of stone that had once been the walls of the great Jukan fortress. Already the humans had begun to pick through the rubble. Scavenger gargoyles circled the cold, greying sky. Dasha did not want to think what they might do with the charred remains of two fallen races.

Warlord Kabur's frown was heavy. He lifted his chin with defiant pride. "Though the flesh passes, honor is eternal. The Juka carved their place in history."

Dasha said nothing, but her thoughts would not rest. Master Adranath had once told her, Wisdom accepts the inevitability of change. But even now she refused to believe him. The Meer had founded their spiritual beliefs on the truth of reincarnation. Dasha knew her people would appear again. Their form might be strange but their spirit would not die. They would always look ahead, but they must never fear what lies behind them.

That, she suspected, was the real essence of wisdom. The lesson had come at a horrible price, but perhaps the ancestors themselves were a party to this fate. Hers was not to judge their motives. She would simply look ahead and never fear again.

Time tramples greatness to rubble and dust, but glory is never forgotten. Elder winds sing of the past to those calm enough to listen.

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Chapter 7: Change

The explosion shook the fortress and hurled Dasha to the floor. The Jukan warriors around her toppled in a clatter of armor and spears. She regained her bearings and glanced about the room. The stone walls had cracked. The floor shifted. The fortress verged on collapse.

Master Adranath's ritual had begun. The demise of the Juka and Meer was at hand, unless Dasha and Kabur acted quickly.

She rose to her knees and barked, "Exodus! Do something to give us time, sorcerer!" From her fingertips leapt a spell that illuminated the shadowy alcove, but the Juka's mysterious lord was not there. He had left behind a curious altar or pedestal, studded with flickering gemstones and inset with silver, geometric patterns. She muttered, "Where is your revered master, Kabur, in the face of danger?"

The warlord growled, "The Juka do not hide behind wizards. We fight with our own hands!" Then he charged through a doorway. Dasha followed him. They emerged atop the high wall at the front of the massive fortress. From this vantage they saw the Jukan city spread around them, devastated by the earthquakes of the morning's battle. Chaotic melee poured blood through the streets.

As Dasha strained to maintain her composure, her keen eyes darted across the landscape, searching. Adranath, no! Her hunter’s vision found the elder far below, working his hands deftly at the northern point of a circle of other eternals. A hellish glow began to shine forth from the ring of mages, and Dasha knew the fortress would soon be hit by another blast of vengeful power.

Her senses suddenly dulled as if submerged in icy water. The valley before her seemed to freeze, and the silence of a still night engulfed the chaos. Adranath far below appeared trapped in a blurry painting. A small plume of fire, in the infant stages of a chaotic inferno, hung from his fingertips like an ornament. Only Kabur and the structure on which he stood appeared clearly in her sight.

Her body moved as if covered in lead. Simply turning her head required concentration. Streams of dull violet light started to trace along the surface of the floor below her, like tears in parchment. They increased in number, covering every surface faster and faster, until the entire fortress glowed with the strange energy. The streams gathered below Dasha and Kabur, engulfing them until nothing could be seen but blinding light.

Dasha lost consciousness.


At the peak of the circle of elders, Adranath ceased his enchanting and froze in horror. As the wave of violent fire dissipated, he could see the Juka fortress fade completely from sight. No rubble remained, no ash, no trace of life. The fortress was simply gone.

Exodus and the Juka had escaped. Adranath fell to his knees, tears streaming down his wrinkled face.

Amidst the smoke and fire, the battle between the few remaining Juka warriors and Meer halted for a moment as a deafening cry of agony echoed across the valley.


Ancestors, do not forsake us! We do not deserve this end!

By the Great Mother, you have killed us all!

... fire...

... smoke so thick...

Is this how the Juka face eternity?

Is this how the Meer face eternity?

The Juka carved their place in history.

Wisdom accepts the inevitability of change.


Through utter blackness, a crease of light sliced through Dasha’s vision, stirring her mind. Her limbs felt weak, as if she had run for days, and her head pounded. A strange wind blew around her, carrying scents her sharp senses had never known. Slowly, she managed to pull her eyes open, wincing at the sunlight from above. As her vision focused, she saw that she was still in the same fortress—yet something was different.

As Dasha turned, she saw a figure standing nearby in a dark cloak, floating slightly above the ground. Before she could react, a huge clawed limb emerged from the folds of the figure’s cloak, unleashing a hellish blast of fire. The force sent her flying backward over the edge of the fortress wall.

Kabur groaned, beginning to stir. The grizzled warrior reached for his weapon as he rose to a kneeling position. "You will not find me so easy to defeat," he strained to remain upright. "Rest, Kabur. You have been saved," a voice droned in his head.

"Lord Exodus?" Kabur stood shakily and looked around at the valley below him. It was as if the entire fortress had been moved to another world. Nothing but the structure itself looked familiar.

"Where... where is this place?" he asked, turning to examine the cloaked figure again.

"You stand in the fortress you have always known, Kabur. This is Ilshenar." The voice of Exodus buzzed in Kabur's mind.

"This is not the land I remember... I saw fire... death... Only Dasha and I remained. I saw these things like a dream... but not a dream."

"You saw a fate undone, Kabur. You felt time unwinding around you. Your fate begins anew, here, in my service again."

"You... you brought the Juka back from death?" Kabur sheathed his weapon.

"I have undone your death. I spent many centuries gathering the magical power to bring you forth from the past, Kabur. With the assistance of Lord Blackthorn, I was able to gain the last strength needed to spare you from the insanity of the Meer. You now look down upon a new Ilshenar, with new enemies for the Juka to challenge. I will guide you as I always have."

"Lord Blackthorn?" Kabur stared at the stranger. The cloaked figure pulled back his hood, revealing a face part flesh and part armor. An eye like a glowing jewel glimmered, highlighting grotesque features marred by metal. His face held no expression.

"You will begin by exploring the land surrounding the fortress," Blackthorn ordered. "Gather your weapons and kill anything you encounter."

Kabur stood still, curious who this being was that suddenly gave him commands. The voice of his master echoed again in his head. "Obey him, Kabur."

Slowly, he turned away from Blackthorn and walked into the depths of the tower. He could feel the strange one’s eyes on him as he left. He did not look back to see the sneer on Blackthorn's face. One by one, Kabur gathered his men, distributing weapons and organizing parties to examine the fortress and the lands around it.

From the top of the tower, he had seen signs of life in the distance. What he thought might be humans seemed to lurk near marsh areas, and in another direction, he was certain he had spotted a gargoyle. He selected two bows he often used for hunting such prey and a hefty supply of arrows.

He walked out of the fortress doors with a group of his warriors. They stood for a moment, gazing over the strange landscape, trying to absorb this new world. Kabur turned to them and barked, "Forward! Weapons at the ready!"

As he strode at the head of the party, his eyes focused on the horizon, ready to strike. One thought burned in his mind.

Dasha survived.

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Chapter 8: The Watcher

"You!"

Dasha tried to rise, but her trembling limbs pierced her with pain. The shadow of the figure cast down over her as it approached slowly. She scrambled on the ground, struggling to get upright, though unsure if she could even keep her balance. Quickly, she attempted to cast another healing spell on herself.

Her head spun and her vision blurred from the effort, but through the confusion she saw a faint light spread from her hand and wash over her body. The effect was slight, but a small pulse of strength worked its way through her legs and arms. Pushing away from the ground, she managed to spring into a shaky standing position just as the figure grew close and stopped an arm’s length away.

"I won't let you... you almost destroyed..." she gasped between short breaths, her knees buckling. As she fell forward, two gray hands caught her shoulders. "No... I won't allow..." Her vision was filled with dancing points of light, and she felt her strength vanish like fog in the morning sunlight. The last thing she saw was the face of Adranath, tears streaming down his face.

"The wait has ended," he said, holding Dasha close like a child. His tears flowed faster, and he began to sob. "You have returned to us... at long last, you have finally returned to us!"


A twinkling of firelight made orange flowers bloom behind Dasha's closed eyes. She squinted, rubbed her temples, and slowly cracked her eyes open. Across the small campfire, she saw Adranath sitting, staring at her with a gentle smile. She sat upright quickly, her body tensing.

"What have you done? Where am I?!" she demanded. She was done showing the eternal respect after the chaos she had witnessed at his command. The image of his spells smashing through Ilshenar during the battle would haunt her dreams for a lifetime.

"I worried for you, young one. It took days for your strength to return," Adranath said, as if not hearing her. "We will be complete again. We must be on our way soon. The wait has been so long." He smiled and stared at her.

Dasha sat silent for a moment, trying to make sense of his words. She wasn't sure if the eternal was insane or trying to manipulate her. "Tell me what you have done, Adranath! To what consequence has your madness condemned us? Where are we?" She tried to find some sign of understanding in his eyes, but they seemed vacant, as if he were in a dream.

"The mountains, Dasha. Do you not recognize the mountains? Have they changed so much after all this time?" He stood and looked around at the majestic landscape. "All this time..."

"I have never seen this place before." She spoke slowly, uncertain of her own words. This place did look familiar. "This land... it reminds me of home. But this is some mockery of our world. A poor imitation!" She walked to him, gripping his shoulder tightly, forcing his gaze to meet hers. "Tell me what has happened here! Where is our homeland? How did you bring the Juka..."

"The Juka!" His eyes widened, and he grasped her hand. "The time has come, Dasha. I have been watching for so long, and the time has come again. Our chance to restore the balance begins anew!"

"The balance?" Her heart softened slightly at his words. "Only days ago, your thirst for vengeance consumed you. Now you again find hope for the balance?"

"Days?" His face wrinkled in confusion. "I have had... centuries... you do not know! My child... you do not know... gone for countless centuries. The destruction averted... sit, child. Sit." He took her hand and led her back to the fire. "You must be told."

She slowly lowered herself to the ground and relaxed. The eternal's behavior concerned her deeply. "What must I be told?"

"You have been lost, Dasha. You were taken from time. You and the entire Juka fortress, all taken in an instant. Pulled from history! It was Exodus!"

"But I saw you from the fortress... you were casting your spells, and then everything was lost in light." Her memory strained to recall the event fully, the madness that had transpired around her.

Exodus! Do something to give us time, sorcerer!

The insanity of Adranath's explanation suddenly began to make cold sense to her. This was home. The mountains had dulled over time, and the landscape had shifted. New, strange plant life flourished where fire and explosions of magic had been days before. But... it was more than days, wasn't it?

"How long?" Dasha crossed her arms and felt a chill in her body. Her world was now gone. The magics once controlled by her people had faded and changed. No wonder her spells felt weak. Her home was now hopelessly lost in history. "How long have I truly been away?"

"Thousands of years... so very... very long..." He stared into space as if reliving every moment of the wait. "For so long I have been watching... and now the time has come."

"You have... you could not have been waiting for this long! How?!"

"You forget the very nature of an eternal, child?" Adranath smiled gently. "I became the watcher. The responsibility was mine. I... I had to atone for... what I had done..." His smile faded into dread. "Such madness... was I really so foolish, Dasha?"

"Please... Adranath..." She held him gently by the shoulders, speaking in soft tones. "Where are the Meer? Surely our race did not allow oblivion to take us? What happened after I... after I was gone?"

"The dreams came." A tear rolled from his eye. "Such destruction I caused... everything was gone. The Juka, the fortress, the Meer... we dreamt of our end, yet... we were spared from it. In the dreams I... I killed everyone. Everyone dead because of my sickening vengeance!" He calmed himself, remembering the carnage had been reduced to a displaced memory. "That was when we knew. We knew what Exodus had done. The Juka, stolen away in time to keep the balance tilted! You... stolen away."

"But the Meer... what became of our people, Adranath? Are we the last of our race?"

"The time has come!" He stood quickly and smiled once more. "Come, come child! You have returned to us, and now the time of the awakening is at hand!"

He took her hand and helped her rise, then immediately began walking away at a brisk pace. With nothing else to guide her actions in this strange place, she followed him, unsure of what awaited her. They walked in silence for nearly an hour until they reached the base of the mountains. A small clearing in the grass lay not far from the Juka fortress she had barely escaped days earlier.

Adranath moved his hands in complicated arcs, small motes of light falling from him like dust. He clapped his hands together, and the lights swirled into a bright point on the ground. The light spread and formed the shape of a square stone platform before fading. A wooden platform inset with blink runes appeared, neatly fitted atop the carved rock.

"Come." Adranath offered Dasha his hand, which she cautiously took. Together they stepped onto the wooden platform and vanished. When they reappeared, Dasha saw they were in some sort of crypt. Tombs in rows stretched endlessly, illuminated by small dots of torchlight. It was clear the Meer had built this place, though she had never seen it before.

"What is this place? These are not death tombs, Adranath."

"No, child. It was the only way we could follow. The sleep of eternity holds the Meer here." He walked to a tomb whose lid was ajar. "But someone had to stay. Someone had to watch for the Juka." He turned to her. "The duty was mine. After what I had done... what I had once done and was undone... I had to atone."

"You have been watching and waiting... for thousands of years?!" She understood the madness that seemed to plague the old eternal. After centuries of solitude, even an immortal mind would suffer.

"The Meer gave up their home so that we could wait for the time when the struggle for balance could begin anew. The fortress has returned. The Juka have returned. You, my child, have returned." He turned in a full circle, taking in the hundreds of tombs. "Now rise, my people! Rise and continue the fight!"

He slammed his staff onto the floor and held his hand aloft. A bright blue light shot forth from his fingertips, enveloping the chamber. Dasha shielded her eyes as the light bathed every surface before fading. At first, nothing happened. Then, the sounds of movement filled the chamber. Beside her, a tomb cracked open, and the lid drifted aside. An eternal rose from the sarcophagus and turned to meet her gaze.

"Dasha! Upon awakening, I could have hoped to see nothing so wonderful as the sight of you returned to your people!"

Dasha could only stare in amazement. The entire race had slept for centuries, waiting to devote themselves to the balance once more. All was not lost.

"Watcher, you have done well," the eternal said to Adranath. "Your devotion has saved us all, and we are in your debt."

Adranath turned to Dasha with the look of a frightened child. "I... am I forgiven, Dasha? After all I have done, all that I would have done... all of this that has occurred... I can be the only one to blame. Had I not been such a hasty fool in that time, we would not have had to bring ourselves to this new world. After all this time... have I been redeemed?"

She smiled and took his hand gently. "You once told me that wisdom accepts the inevitability of change."

One by one, the tombs opened, and an entire race awoke from their sleep.

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