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.”

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 can be my mother. We can all see which is needed most at present. Myself most

and fires of anger rose from her nostrils as she watched her daughter… until, begrudgingly, her body

Lorena let out a smoky sigh. “But I will inform them of your coming, and when the time comes… lead

smiled happily, like she’d been given a gift from her parent rather than

tail again. “And

#####

speak to Elenore in her head. “That’s a blessing. But Sophia is unprepared to adapt them to this world. Raven says the toll using her power is taking on her should fade, but… I’ll be ready for

more and more allies by the second to fight against the rampaging hordes Gerechtigkeit invoked. These allies of convenience still

came for her

narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if

who wore the shell of Good King Norman fashioned from Shadowlander flesh. That form had once been host to the horrifying mind of Traugott, but now he’d taken

come

the other side,” Guy informed her. “When

stirred in her grip, writhing from an intense headache and fatigue both.

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 didn’t belong here on this

for courtesies,” Anneliese said firmly.

here, should he arrive, and Gerechtigkeit after

her feet uneasily—she was almost unnerved by how readily she agreed, and her

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

all people, knowing the value Sophia held. In the Shadowlands, the Hopeful had eaten one of Argrave’s memories—now, it seemed this woman had done the same for the heroes of old they’d left behind. It sounded like

is the single last agent for the Heralds in the world—he’ll attempt

you’re needed now,” Anneliese argued. “Our cities are dying. Jast has already fallen, and Mateth is being pushed

of your world,” the woman said, maintaining her 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.

at Argrave, fighting even now in the heart of the