Jackal Among Snakes

Lorena had become the diligent watchdog of the world, and she relished that task. To employ the omniscience the Heralds had so abused in her time toward thwarting them; no revenge could be sweeter, no role more satisfying. The fight had been a little dodgy at first, but the arrival of unexpected allies had turned the tide and she’d been pleased to see Jaray’s efforts unravel.

Lorena had neglected to consider, however, that the god of politics would play all sides.

The lull in the fighting had been but a prelude to an unimaginable resurgence. They’d thought that, when the tide retreated, it signified the end of the turbulent waves. But however far the tide retreats, it comes back twice as strong. That metaphor held true here as all of their opposition converged at one point: Berendar.

Argrave had slain scores of undead in preparation for this day, but for every one he'd given a true death was another that now walked up out of the sea. Rotten leviathans rose from the ocean, led by golden knights akin to Lindon’s silver knighted form. Marching alongside them were the few automatons that they'd failed to disable from distant continents. Giants of dead flesh, processed metal, and broken will slammed against their battered defenses, and already some coastal cities began to falter.

And all of this neglected to include the presence of Gerechtigkeit. Even with Argrave’s desperate struggle against the tide, the city of Jast had already been entirely lost. The golems hunted down evacuating inhabitants like boars herded by hunters. Even S-rank spellcasters couldn’t hold their own against these creatures for long. This embryotic tissue was but a prelude to the true power Gerechtigkeit could exert—the power to end the world.

She reported all she could to Elenore, trying to lose herself in the monotony of the task to distract herself from the hopelessness of the situation. They’d been caught off-balance, and though Anneliese was intelligent and resourceful, Lorena had doubts about her ability to rally a force capable of fighting back against the calamity that had come weeks early.

“Mother!”

Lorena broke her connection with the moon beneath her body and opened her eyes to see her daughter standing before her in humanoid form. She had designed her form in the likeness of Anneliese—they were very similar, barring her draconic markers and red hair. Her daughter kept a very close eye on the happenings of the surface, watching through their connection to the moon. All of the dragons did, these days. How could they not?

“Return,” Lorena responded, speaking in the draconic tongue. She maintained her ordinary form. “I cannot be distracted for even a moment.”

“I won’t,” her daughter answered, staring up at her towering dragon form without flinching. “I’ve spoken to all of the others. Six hundred of us are prepared to depart to the surface.”

“What?!” Lorena slammed her tail against the ground of the temple she rested within. “You’d die! All of you would.”

“As do millions as we do nothing!” Her daughter protested passionately. “You’ve taken a stand, mother. Sophia is down there—we can be fixed. We can be adapted to the world we came from and walk upon it freely once again.”

Lorena’s nostrils flared, and fire and smoke billowed around her snout. She’d kept a diligent eye on the world, and in so doing, lost track of what took place within her own home. The idea of losing her daughter frightened her beyond compare.

“Even if it came to be that we were permitted to exist on the surface once more, none of you have seen battle. I would not have you fight against the most potent enemy in the world as your first conflict.” Lorena slammed one mighty arm against the ground and rose imposingly. “I will not allow it.”

daughter said defiantly, matching her mother’s fire with a flame of her own. “And you can’t stop us. Whether we should die while making the journey, or be saved by Sophia upon our arrival… that is solely up to you. You can be our leader, or you

of the temple until the rock beneath her turned to dust, and fires of anger rose from her nostrils as she watched

smoky sigh. “But I will inform them of your coming, and when the time

from her parent rather than approval to go off

girl!” Lorena slammed her tail again. “And leave

#####

to Elenore in her head. “That’s a blessing. But Sophia is unprepared to adapt them to this world. Raven says

Ail, god of couriers. Despite the internecine warfare breeding enmity among the remaining deities that’d taken Jaray’s side, the Bat remained an ever-persuasive figure. They won more and more allies by the second to fight against

for her to

rightfully on Amazon; if you spot

from Shadowlander flesh. That form had once been host to the horrifying mind of Traugott, but now he’d taken the name of Guy and wore a tremendous amount of brown coverings to hide his Shadowlander-esque body. He now supported their cause

wasn’t enough with the world in the balance. Raven had planted a mark on him of the same kind on Durran. With a thought, Raven could obliterate the man who’d once been Traugott—a harsh measure, but one that ensured compliance. They could brook no disobedience. Mercy could come when the world was improved enough to permit it. Guy

on the other side,” Guy informed her. “When I

writhing from an intense headache and fatigue both. “Breach the Shadowlands. Let’s see if the seed

moments after, like stepping out of parchment into a third dimension, the white-haired revolutionary woman that they’d fought in the Shadowlands walked out. At once, the air seemed to shift. Her hunger began to eat away at all sensations in this world—a proper signal that the Shadowlanders still

said firmly. “We have reason to

interrupted the woman. “We’ll fight the Hopeful here, should he arrive, and Gerechtigkeit after that.” She bowed her head. “It’s been

unnerved by how readily she agreed, and her

Hopeful, enlarging our ranks. When the time came, and they found themselves withering away… we offered to inherit their memories, consuming those legendary heroes with our hunger.” She raised a hand. “About half of them agreed. I’m the product of their sacrifice… and the heir to their memories. I will fight for the land that was theirs, and for the people that are mine.” Her eyes

one of Argrave’s memories—now, it seemed this woman had done the same for the heroes of old they’d

our strength for the final push,” the revolutionary continued. “The Hopeful will be doing the same thing. He is the single last agent for the

needed now,” Anneliese argued. “Our cities are dying. Jast has already fallen, and Mateth

calm demeanor that was rather unlike the brash, berserker tendency she’d exhibited the last time they’d met—evidence that she’d changed, or that she was lying. “The Hopeful will

fighting even now in the heart of the calamity. She didn’t need to ask him