When Kali awoke, she almost didn't realize where she was. Everything felt like a dream. Her head thundered and pulsed from pain, furthering the belief that this wasn't real. And yet, she could feel the soft bedding. The rapid clicking of claws beside her finally forced her to open her eyes.

Only to nearly leap off the other side of the bed when she saw a skull staring at her with a startled cry.

“I'm so sorry,” Methir grabbed the skull and pulled him back. When Kali saw that it was just a mask, annoyance beginning to build. Was this some sort of cheap prank?

Running her eyes over the small cream scaled dragon, she saw that his peridot eyes were wide with wonder. He fought against Methir's grip, brown wings flapping in excitement. Was he just an adolescent? Certainly looked that way.

“This,” Methir indicated to the dragon, “is Kyrik. The one I told you about last night.”

“That really wasn't funny,” Kali frowned at Kyrik.

“What wasn't?” Kyrik tilted his head.

“She means you scaring her with the mask,” Methir explained. “I tried to stop him from barging in, but once he gets going, he's impossible to catch.” She said to Kali.

“Oh.” Kyrik felt his mask, blinking a few times. “Sorry. I forget it's on half the time.” He seemed to shrink out of what appeared to be guilt.

“Is he shy?” Kali asked, still annoyed but also genuinely curious.

“Something like that. He almost never takes it off.” Methir once again explained his behavior. “He'll only do so if he trusts you entirely.”

Kali wouldn't have expected such a thing after seeing his excited movements, which started up again. Now that Methir wasn't holding him, he was pacing back and forth while his wings flapped slowly. How strange yet endearing in a way.

“How do you know our language?” Kyrik suddenly blurted out.

Kali opened her mouth a few times, each time drawing a blank. How did she know? “Truthfully, I do not know. I simply…know it.”

Methir laughed softly as Kyrik stifled any further questions relucantly. “Anyway, how are you feeling today?” She asked.

“Sore.” Kali admitted, wincing as she now brought attention to it.

“Physical? Or did you mean emotionally?” Kyrik asked abruptly.

“Physically. According to Methir, I did fall from the sky.”

“I can do something for that, if you want.” Kyrik managed to wiggle free from Methir’s grasp, but didn’t approach. Kali regarded him curiously, but detected no ill intent. Despite his strange appearance, he didn’t seem to be a threat. With some reluctance, she nodded her consent.

When she did, he bounded over to her and stood on hind legs. Opening his palms, she saw a strange symbol on them. A gentle breeze escaped from them.

“Not sure if it’s the same where you come from, but we have physical ways of telling what element someone is attuned to.” Kyrik babbled as he charged strange runes in the air. “Fire has markings on the neck and tail, electricity with shoulder crystals. Tempest, my element, has the symbol. It’s strange, I know, but I think it’s interesting and-”

“Kyrik,” Methir called his name in sing-song. “Slow down a bit. You’re throwing way, way too much information at her.”

“Oh. Right, um, hold still.”

Before Kali could question, a soft green light emanated from his claws and enveloped her like a blanket. Slowly, she could feel her headache recede. A moment later, all the other aches began to slowly disappear.

“When did you learn that?” Methir asked with surprise.

“Little while back, but I never really did anything with it. It shows, doesn’t it?” Kyrik picked himself up. “Anyway, I have necromantic powers, yes? It comes from Lifeforce, and all I had to do is reverse the runes. Way easier than going through the other means.”

“Well, there goes my future lessons.” Methir muttered jokingly.

“Anyway, how are you feeling?” Kyrik asked Kali, who flexed the previously aching parts of her.

“Much better.” Kali said with more positivity than before. “Thank you.”

“Well, if that’s the case, I have an offer for you.” Methir said. “If you’re up to it, we can show you the city. I’m sure you’re as curious about this world as we are you; Kyrik here is going to burst if he doesn’t talk to you more. And honestly, asking questions with you in here feels like an interrogation. If not, I completely understand and will keep this one in check.”

Kali shifted her eyes between them and the door a few times. “I think I’ll come with you.” She decided. “I think I can trust you two; you found me, and you brought me back from near death. And, I am very curious as to how this world works.”

“Oh dear, you said the word ‘curious’.” Methir grinned as Kyrik’s fins perked. “Kyrik, slow. Don’t throw everything at her at once again.”

“I wasn’t going to.” Kyrik puffed his cheeks out.

“Actually, would it be alright if I got food?” Kali made it out of bed, finding Kyrik to be much shorter than he appeared. He made it up to her shoulder at most.

“Sure!” Methir nodded enthusiastically. “I’ve been meaning to ask that myself. About what you can or can’t eat, I mean.”

“I’m not sure myself, but I am willing to find out.”

“That’s the spirit!”

* * *

The throne room still astounded Kali.

It was quite spacious and empty; the circular design strongly reminding Kali of an arena. The walls were lined with thick pillars made of obsidian, holding a few balconies. Royal red carpet trimmed with gold extended to the door from the throne. The floor, made of some sort of silvery material, waxed and polished to the point where Kali could use it as a mirror.

That wasn’t covering the throne itself atop a small set of stairs. It could allow her to lay down upon it, recline, or sit up straight. Red – Kali began to wonder if it was Azulia’s favorite color or it was because vampyr – silk cushions lined it. Kyrik described it as the softest bedding. How he got away with sitting on it was beyond her.

The sides were filled with weaponry; all of which were used to try and kill the queen. Spears and blades mixed with silver daggers and the like. Some still had dried blood on them. Whether or not it was Azulia’s or the attacker’s was anyone’s guess, but mostly likely the latter. The rest was made of spikes, extending up the back of the wall. Behind it, large window panes allowed moonlight to filter in. No doubt they would be shut during the day.

The biggest surprise was that no one was in here. Just in case, she snuck to the back corner near the throne. No one would really consider looking for her there given the proximity to it.

She rubbed the crystal three times and it began to glow before taking off into the air. A strange, almost indescribable sound emanated from it as the environment turned hazy. Like looking out of an abstract painting. The details were all there, but much like before when she and Kyrik got sucked into the vortex, it existed but it didn’t.

This one was recent. Azulia sat upon her throne, reclining. Witherwing next to her, discussing some sort of matter involving a pantry. It was the first time Kali had heard Azulia laugh. It was somehow both mirthful and sinister, capable of sending multiple shivers down her spine.

They stopped talking as a bat flew in through the door. Azulia’s eyes followed it, her face unreadable before a small ‘hpmh’ as the bat landed on the carpet before it. Witherwing began to approach it, but Azulia raised a claw.

Before Kali’s eyes, the bat transformed into a bipedal figure. Dulled, golden scales grew upon a shrikian body. Ebony wings and curved horns clashed with her blue, white-slit eyes. Her black chest was bare, wearing only silver leggings and gloves that glowed with red under the plates. Strangely, despite being battle ready, the newcomer did not carry a weapon.

Kali recognized the being to be the demi-god, Aura, from the pulsating crimson shield on her left wrist; the Spellbreaker. Supposedly, it could cancel any spell so long as the artifact held power. In her time here, Kali never saw a god, alive or dead. Until this moment, she hadn’t even seen a demi-god like the one before her.

“I don’t know if you intend to appease or mock me Auraith, but you could have simply knocked.” Azulia smiled slightly. “Honestly, I’m surprised to see you at all.”

“You know why I’m here.” The shriker-dragon hybrid – a Shrigon - walked to the base of the stairs, bladed tail swishing and flicking through the air.

“Have you finally come to your senses, Auraith?” Azulia leaned forward, resting her head in palm. “Or are you out of options?”

“Don’t pretend that you don’t have a stake in this.” Aura pointed to the shut window. “I bet you hate that you can’t go outside without discomfort these days. How long has it been since you were under the moonlight again?”

“Yes, I wish to drive my spear into Ephiral’s heart for that reason alone.” Azulia’s eyes narrowed. “But, tell me, how do you expect my aid if half my army cannot use their full power in the sunlight? I will be limited in your battle unless you can get Ephiral to turn off the lightshow.”

“My brother can create wards.” Aura answered simply. “I know you’ve heard the legends; why else would you fixate on him?”

“Ah yes, the primitive campfire stories that the mortals tell each other.” Azulia laughed. “Tell me, is it true that he single-clawedly slew the basilisk by reflecting its gaze back? Or if he really stole the gauntlets of Aquaris?”

“There’s truth to every myth,” Aura shrugged.

“Ah, then the stories of his Wrathblade causing a volcanic eruption has some merit.” Azulia grinned wickedly. “The powers of that sword are no doubt exaggerated, but if just a fraction of it is true…”

“He’s not giving that up.” Aura answered flatly, crossing her arms. “You know better than that.”

“I do, and I’m not asking for it now.” Azulia leaned forward. “When Aurgal dies - and we both know demi-gods aren’t unkillable - I want that blade for myself.”

Aura stared as if Azulia had just killed her best friend. “You’re joking, right?”

“I don’t jest with propositions like this.”

Aura scowled. “He’s not going to agree to it. Even if he does, what’s to stop you from turning around and killing him?”

“Am I so distrusted?” Azulia growled. “Aura, when have I ever set out to harm you? In fact, wasn’t it I who brought the cavalry to your salvation not too long ago?”

The shrigon glowered slightly, tail swishing again. “I will ask. Don’t be surprised if Aurgal blasts down the door to your throne for suggesting it.”

“I certainly hope he does. I miss his cute face. Did he ever tell you about that one night?”

Aura seemed to ignore the comment, starting to turn away. “One last thing.”

“Yes?”

Turning her head over her spiked shoulder, Aura spoke in deathly calm. “If he dies, and I find out you were the slightest bit involved…I will kill you with a stake.”

“I expect no less.” Azulia grinned wickedly.

Aura smirked and transformed into a bat again, flying out of the room as the vision began to peel away like parchment.