49

In the days following the end of the battle, Miraveh found she had far more work to do than she had first realised. She still suffered the return of those she had wronged, in her dreams, but she had come to accept them, as the first principle of magic proposed. Accept them and cling to them, for they reminded her of Daras and Sialira. Priorities were made. Finding more fresh water was not such a problem where people who wielded magic were concerned. Rebuilding the stronghold into a place fit to live in caused more worries than anything else. She now had hundreds of people, the refugees and the turned Hunters O' The Dark, to consider. Feeding them all took much of her time.

Those Witches that could create portals were despatched to various towns and cities to seek aid and many had returned empty handed. Without money, or gold, or anything to barter with, people were wary of dwindling their own resources. The goblins assured her that they would soon find gold, or silver, or something within the mountains that they could mine. The elves, for their part, worked on starting farms close to the stronghold walls For the moment, the free-roaming goats on the plains were the only source of food.

And, through it all, a steady trickle of fresh faces began to arrive. Some finding the stronghold by chance after wandering the lands in fear of the Hunters O' The Dark. Others came after excursions by the Witches to towns and cities, desperate for somewhere to avoid persecution. The Hunters that had attacked the stronghold and the refugees were only a fraction of those that remained belligerent to those who used magic and they still held great influence beyond the stronghold walls.

"The goblins have stabilised the keep, for now, but they say it will take some time before they can make it as strong as it needs to be." With a flat piece of slate in his hand, a nail used to etch upon it, Brothimir traced down a list he had created. "The outer walls are a greater concern. Some parts will have to be completely rebuilt, but Yuknada says they have found the quarry where the original stone came from. Cutting the blocks and transporting them will take effort and time. We are vulnerable until that task is complete."

"I think we shall be safe for a while." Miraveh listened, but she had other things on her mind. "The funerals? Still ongoing?"

"Yes. Each of the different groups have their own traditions. The goblins have found a suitable cave for their dead, but they await your decision about Peknida. They know she meant something to you, but not what." Brothimir looked away to the spot where Sialira had turned to ash, saving Miraveh. No repairs had been made to the courtyard there. "I'm not sure what you want to do about Sialira's ... remains. They are no doubt mixed with ... his."

"Tell the goblins that I won't stand in the way of their traditions. Peknida's internment is up to them." She had seen Brothimir's look. She had thoughts about that spot. A tree would be a fine monument to Sialira. "Don't worry about Sialira's ashes."

Brothimir nodded, taking another look at the slate and his list and finding he had nothing more to add. He didn't need to bow or scrape before her, she was not that kind of leader and she despised the formality. Instead, he turned and moved away towards a group of former Hunters, still removing bodies of their dead out of the keep's courtyard.

Miraveh couldn't allow anyone to see how weary she felt. She climbed the steps of the keep and entered through doors that still needed repairs. It would take some time to bring the stronghold back to glory, but it would happen. She even had thoughts about a flag. A unicorn and a dragon rampant, above a purple field adorned by three rings. One of stone, one of wood and one of metal. A symbol for the future.

A side room had become her quarters until Brothimir managed to have chambers made for her, higher in the keep, and she headed to that room now, passing various people scurrying this way and that within the great hall. She didn't look towards the dais at the far end, not wishing to imagine why they had made such a thing while other, more important matters needed attention. They made it as a mark of respect, but she didn't appreciate it. It smacked of arrogance.

Before she could pass through the door to her temporary quarters, she heard a commotion from outside, shouts echoing from the walls of the great hall, and Miraveh sighed. She had only wanted an hour's rest. A few moments of reflection, at least. She hoped that she had not miscalculated the resolve of the remaining Hunters O' The Dark and her hand slipped to the newly created sheath at her back, while her other fell to Alran's sword at her hip.

She sighed again as she saw the reason for the commotion striding through the great hall, heading directly towards her, others in their wake. Yusuvur. Miraveh had wondered how long it would take the elder Witch to show her face, now that Miraveh no longer needed her help. Behind Yusuvur, Miraveh recognised the elven leader, Laloruntir, and, behind her, an exasperated, still hobbling Turotara.

"I'm sorry, my Lord, but I tried to tell this woman you were not to be disturbed." Turotara glared at Yusuvur as they all neared Miraveh, rubbing her cheek. "She slapped me. If she were armed, I'd have cut her down."

"Don't call me 'Lord'." More than a few had taken up that affectation and Miraveh didn't like it. By the sneer upon Yusuvur's face, neither did she. "You couldn't have stopped this woman if you had an army at your back. This is Yusuvur of the Green Fields, second only to the Phrenica of the most powerful Coven in the north, the Coven of Scales, and she is a force to be reckoned with. Yusuvur. Laloruntir."

"Where is it?" Yusuvur stood before Miraveh and gave her the kind of stare that would once have sent shivers down Miraveh's spine. "Give it to me and we'll make sure someone competent learns its secrets. Gods know you've made a mess of things as it is, allowing the Candidate and my apprentice to die, I will not allow you to ruin a weapon such as that."

The unicorn horn. Miraveh didn't even bother to wonder how Yusuvur had found out about it, though she had an inkling. Of course Yusuvur would think that only she and her brothers and sisters in the Coven of Scales should have it. Miraveh thought if she accepted the gift, created for her at the end of the great hall, she would appear arrogant. Yusuvur made arrogance a thing of pride. As Sialira once had and that Yusuvur had not even mentioned the young Witch's name inflamed Miraveh's ire.

Miraveh ignored Yusuvur's question and moved past her, feeling the swell of anger build within the elder Witch. She took the hands of Laloruntir and bowed her head, touching their foreheads as the elves within the stronghold had taught her. A sign of respect to a beloved elder. Laloruntir spoke elven words that the elves had also taught Miraveh. "Ayukleth Ü Tirripeth". "Respect is returned".

"Laloruntir, my friend. I did not expect your arrival. Have you spoken to any of your kin, yet?" Keeping hold of one hand, Miraveh began to lead Laloruntir toward a table at the side, where a water bucket and a ladle sat. "How goes the search for your ancient home?"

"Not well, my friend. It is nothing but a ruin. I came because Yusuvur said you held my kin here, but they do not appear under duress." Even Laloruntir ignored the furious intake of breath from Yusuvur. "They seem ... content. Determined. They look alive."

Yusuvur, unused to anyone ignoring her, moved before Miraveh and Laloruntir. With her hands balled into fists, pressing against her hips, Yusuvur made certain that Miraveh could not ignore her again. Miraveh had known this day would come. The thought of it had tickled the back of her mind for some time and she had pushed it aside, not willing to think about the time she would have to face the woman that had been the architect of so much pain and sadness in Miraveh's life.

"The horn. It is not for a child like you to bear." A finger raised and began to wag in front of Miraveh's face as Yusuvur continued to berate her. "It is a weapon that Witches can use in the coming days and you are not a Witch. Not yet. We will set up a Coven here and begin your training. Who knows what parlour tricks you have learnt from these barbarians."

"There will be no Coven established here. There are no Witches within these walls." Miraveh had put it off long enough. "We are building something new here. Better than Witches. Better than Hunters O' The Dark. The horn does not exist anymore. Cut into a hundred relics, ready to be given to a new army. Tell me, how long have you had a relic?"

Miraveh had sensed it as soon as Yusuvur had come near enough. Not a dark, corrupted relic, but one that Yusuvur had taken for herself from the unicorn, and she had not freed the imprisoned creature. Not as pure as the relics Miraveh had created with the horn, Yusuvur had her dark intentions, but far cleaner than a Hunter's relic. Yusuvur began to deny that she had the relic, but then her eyes narrowed and Miraveh felt that shiver return to her spine. All bluster had vanished, revealing Yusuvur's true self.

"Since before I met you and Kayrian. I heard tales of magic, followed the clues and found the unicorn. It felt unimaginable to wield magic. It felt right." A smile came to Yusuvur's lips, tight and cold. "You think we could have defeated the Shade of Xirasir without the aid of magic? So, girl, if there are no Witches here, then who are here? Not Hunters."

"Magi. I thank you for that. Making me read so much." Miraveh circled Yusuvur, as though keeping out of range of a springing viper. She had only seen Yusuvur like this on few occasions. Calculating. Dangerous. "An ancient order of magic wielders that were as proficient with the sword as with a spell. An army that helped people, instead of sitting behind Coven walls, hoarding knowledge. More will come. More will follow me and become Magi and you and your Witches will become nothing but ineffectual worriers in your towers. Go, Yusuvur. You aren't welcome here."

"Follow you? Very well, girl. Sit on your throne and play 'King' to your thralls, but know that you will need my help before the end and another Candidate awaits you." Yusuvur sneered at the throne created for Miraveh at the end of the great hall. "Miraveh Arachild. Your father would be disappointed in you."

Miraveh's hand reached for the sheath at her back once more and realised Yusuvur had played her once again. A knowing smile came to Yusuvur's lips as she glanced toward Miraveh's hand. She knew Miraveh still had the unicorn horn. Or, at least, a part of it. No-one would ever give up all of that power and Miraveh had proven it. Yusuvur turned her back to Miraveh, shooing Turotara out of the way, but Miraveh knew she had not seen the last of her. She took a swallow before turning back to Laloruntir, smiling.

"So, my friend, if you have no place in your ancient city, perhaps you could make a home here? We have much to build and few resources, but, one day, this will be a welcoming place for all." Miraveh took Laloruntir's hand once again, intending to lead her to her fellow elves, but a booming pain wracked her mind. Only for a second. "Excuse me, please, Laloruntir. My friend, Turotara, will show you to your kin. Don't decide anything until you have spoken to them."

Concern etched upon her face, Laloruntir allowed Turotara to lead her away, toward the doors of the great hall. Miraveh waited long enough for them both to leave her sight before she turned and stumbled into her quarters, slamming the door behind her. The pain that had almost caused her to vomit was not only pain. It was a summons from the dragon of Jukunashar.

"Miraveh Arachild! Come to me!"

She could not refuse.

-+-

The perch of the dragon, upon the remains of the castle of Jukunashar, looked little different from the first time Miraveh saw it. The destroyed structure looked a little more flat, great stones that once were walls and towers and buildings were now arranged into something more akin to a nest. Of the dragon, Miraveh saw nothing and that irked her. It had called to her, yet left her waiting in the heat of the mid-day Sun.

After waiting for almost an hour, craving a drink of water, Miraveh considered reopening the portal and returning to the stronghold. She did not have the time to play games of hide and seek with the immortal creature. With a kick of some loose stones, Miraveh prepared to open the portal, her magic enough to do so, now, without the aid of the length of unicorn horn she had kept for herself.

She had not lied to Yusuvur completely, yet she had not told her the truth of it all. She had, indeed, cut two feet of the horn into a hundred relics, but had kept a foot of the length for herself, hidden in a sheath at the small of her back. Never would she find herself unprepared against any foes that could challenge her. The losses she had suffered had ingrained that desire upon her soul and she would not stand for more.

Before the portal could open, Miraveh heard the roar of the dragon and she could not help but think it had waited for her to show her impatience. A shadow passed across her that seemed to last forever and wind from the dragon's wings buffeted her as the dragon circled once before dropping to the ground within the circle of its nest. It turned around and around before settling down, folding its wings along its back and curling its tail about its body.

"You called, I came." The purple energy of her magic dissipated from her fingers and she stretched her neck to look up into the face of the dragon. "I am not your servant, or your vassal, dragon. Next time, ask me to come. Do not demand."

"I speak as I wish. As do you." The dragon's chest rose and fell as it settled upon its perch. It appeared to have flown from somewhere without using a portal. "You made your choice and such a choice has consequences for the world at large. That choice affects everything around you, including me."

The golden, cat-like eyes stared down at Miraveh and it felt different from before. A caution towards her and that caused her to furrow her brow. Even had she kept the entirety of the unicorn horn, she doubted she could challenge the power of the dragon. Yet, something spoke to her of a fear within the great, immortal beast. Its mouth opened, revealing long teeth that could tear Miraveh apart with the barest of bites, and its tongue flicked out once, then again before the dragon lowered its head to rest upon the ground.

Even then, Miraveh had to strain to look up at the dragon, so enormous was the beast. A halted, inadvertent step backwards caused Miraveh to curse herself in silence. That had revealed her own fear of the dragon and she had resolved never to show fear before anyone, mortal or immortal, ever again. It would not happen a second time.

"I cannot stand here all day, dragon. I have much to do and little time to do it." She curled her lip as she looked around the dragon's perch, seeing various tributes left by the people of Jukunashar for their erstwhile protector. "We can't all sleep while others bring gifts."

"Have a care, Miraveh Arachild. You interest me, but I tire of interesting things easily." A hot gust of air passed over Miraveh as the dragon snorted from its nose. A warning, for certain. "We must talk of your task. The Candidate you sought is dead. Another has emerged and you have not returned to your role as a Seeker. This must change."

"I'll find the new Candidate. In my own time." It didn't surprise her that the dragon knew of the fate of Peknida. It seemed she was the only one that did not have a network of spies. That would change. "The stronghold must be made secure. The people need feeding, shelter, water and training. No longer will those who wield magic lie beneath the boots of oppressors. I ..."

"The Pillar of Grace is also dead, girl! There is a world beyond your limited vision!" The dragon returned to its feet, towering far above Miraveh's head, causing a shadow to cross her and a shiver in her bones. "The barrier between this world and the gods holds, but the gods will test its strength each day. A new Pillar must take their place and strengthen the wall between this world and the next or all will become lost. Even for immortals."

Miraveh did not expect to feel shock at the passing of the Pillar of Grace. She had met him only once, upon the island of Him-Na-Sul, home to the tower dedicated to Himitar, the god of Grace. He had seemed a kind man. Ancient as the mountains. As wise as the ages. He had tasked Miraveh with finding the next Candidate to follow him as a Pillar of the Gods and she had rejected him. As she did with many things.

Still, she felt the loss. To the side, she saw a rock large enough to sit upon and took her rest, leaning her elbows upon her knees and holding her head in her hands. She had thought she had more time. Time enough to secure the stronghold, to begin training of those that had decided to join her army of Magi. She could not leave them at this critical time. Had Sialira lived, she didn't doubt she could task her with preparing the Magi. She had no-one else. Except Brothimir and his previous actions decried him ever taking on such responsibilities. For now.

"There are others. Other Seekers. Everyone told me so. Why does it have to be me?" Shifting upon the rock, she gazed out to the south where she had felt the emergence of a new Candidate. She couldn't see the golden tower of light from here. "I just want to do something worthwhile. To create rather than destroy. To nurture life instead of wallowing in death. Am I wrong for wanting that?"

"In ages past, perhaps you could have allowed others to take on your task, but fell beings stir in the dark. Powerful beings that require power to match them." Once again, the dragon settled down. It tilted its head, assessing Miraveh as it had done before. "The Candidates require protection only those as powerful as you and your kinsman can provide and it is my task to urge you to continue to search for those that can save the world."

"My kinsman? You mean Kay? Kayrian of Donsa village?" She almost jumped from the rock at mention of her kinsman. She asked, though the dragon could not have meant anyone else. "He's alive, then. How fares he? Is he well?"

"He lives." The dragon turned its great head away and Miraveh caught the impression that it had said something it should not. "There are those that oppose him, but we are certain he will prevail. Regardless. You have a task laid before you, Miraveh Arachild. Perform it before all the Candidates become lost to the enemy."

Now Miraveh wondered whether the dragon had let slip things she should not have heard by accident, or purposefully. Things began to fall into place. Implications between the words of the dragon and Miraveh fought to understand their meaning. It did not appear the dragon withheld information under its own choices. The dragon, in its own way, tried to help her. It had already mentioned others that it considered more powerful than itself. Miraveh wondered whether they held sway over what the dragon said.

The dragon had said before all the Candidates became lost. That implied that at least one had become found by people the dragon considered an enemy. Enemies of the dragon? Of the world? Miraveh couldn't imagine. There were cults, of course. Fanatics that would see the world burn believing themselves the only ones righteous enough to survive, but they were in scattered groups. Not worth a thought. Or had more things changed in the years since she had left Donsa than she had noticed?

Miraveh also noticed the dragon had not answered her other questions about Kay. How he fared and whether he was well. Words omitted often said more than those shouted. Now Miraveh wanted to find her old friend, to support him and lend him her strength, her recently gained power. Together, she did not doubt they could accomplish anything they set their minds to and it could prove faster if they sought the Candidates together.

"I will. I'll perform that duty by helping Kay." Her path decided, Miraveh stood. She had had enough of this discussion that had not merited such a demanding summons. "After I have finished securing the Magi and the stronghold."

"No! Now!" Again, the dragon reared up, but, this time, Miraveh could not mistake the menace in that deep, rumbling voice. Smoke billowed from the dragon's mouth and Miraveh reached for the unicorn horn. "Enough of this prevaricating! You will perform your duty! Find the four Candidates! Restore the Pillars of the Gods!"

"Four?" Miraveh's hand fell from the unicorn horn and she stepped toward the dragon. "There are three Pillars. Three gods. Three Candidates. Three!"

"No. There are four and the fourth god is the worst of them all." It was something Miraveh would relate to others, in the future. The day a dragon sighed. "Bidbes. The god of Malice and they are stirring. Should Bidbes reach this world, they will make the actions of the others appear like the play of children. Seek out the Candidates, Miraveh Arachild. They are the only ones that can hold back the darkness."

Miraveh looked away. She needed to think. To assess what the dragon had said. Taking the remnant of the unicorn horn, she touched it to her skin and allowed her senses to reach out across the world. With the powerful magic at her disposal, she searched for Candidates and found more than she expected. Hundreds of them, in every corner of the world. Some more compatible to becoming Pillars than others.

She focussed her thoughts, reaching deeper into those Candidates until she began to sense which Pillars they could become. A Pillar of Himitar, or a Pillar of Xirasir, of Pailai. And then she felt it, the sense among a small number of the Candidates. Malice. Not the malice of the Candidates, but the presence of the god within them. To bind the gods, they needed a part of the gods within them. Miraveh found that part within some of these Candidates and she knew the dragon did not lie. There were four gods and they all wanted to enter this world.

Miraveh had no choice. She had to continue to seek the Candidates, though where that would take her, she could not imagine. She only hoped Kay had had better luck than her and prayed she would meet him again, soon.