Thoron maintained his nonchalant façade, though the crystal’s change made him gleeful. It’s already happening. She and the crystal are becoming one. Perhaps she is strong enough, he thought, his mouth lifting into a wicked grin. His happiness was quickly extinguished when he felt the faint presence of his arch enemy. Thoron looked around wildly. Has Glaviar found me? If so, my time now is even shorter than I realized. It’s now or never! This woman will have to do, and I know exactly how to entice her. My lust crystal has already begun to take hold on her, therefore I have the advantage!

“You know,” Thoron began confidently, “there is a way for you to obtain what you desire, perhaps even regain some of the pieces of your life and lost dreams.”

Thoron’s words struck a dark chord within Lorayla’s heart. The glimmer in her eyes darkened, and her expression less benevolent. “I’m listening.”

“That crystal you carry is no ordinary crystal.” Thoron nodded at the purple animate object in her hand.

The woman narrowed her eyes.

“Everything you could hope for,” he continued, “you can receive through its power.”

“I doubt it could give me back my life,” Lorayla huffed, “or bring me love.”

“Don’t be so certain,” Thoron retorted slyly. “Anything is possible.”

Lorayla shook her head as her anger bubbled to the surface. “No! What man, elf, dwarf, or fymph would desire me now? I’m dirty now, filthy…and it can’t be washed away—”

“Ah, but what of a son?” Thoron exclaimed. “Why subject yourself to the pain of courtship, just to find rejection? Why not bypass the misery by having a son in your likeness. If he had great power and riches, he could care for you like no other.”

“You speak foolishness,” Lorayla snapped. “How could I bear a child without—”

Thoron pointed at the crystal in her hand. “With your deep desire to be loved and cared for, that crystal can make the impossible happen.” He lowered his hand. “All you would need is a wyrm scale and blood…”

Lorayla narrowed her eyes. “From you…” she said in suspicious disbelief.

“Take a moment and consider, woman. Do you remember what you saw when you intruded on my dream?”

“Yes. You were a ruler, a king.”

“What you saw is true! I am a wyrm king!” Thoron said proudly. “Though my kin and I are cursed in human form and sealed within the confines of the Broken Sea, we can take our original forms for a time using purple crystals. That, my dear, is how I saved you that night.”

Thoron winced from the pain in his side. He could feel his enemy’s presence growing closer. “Unfortunately, my time is running out. I’m afraid I will be unable to return to my people and free them from their confinement. But…an heir, a son, could return in time and set them free. You, woman, would be at his side, mother and son together! But should you accept this fate, there are tasks to be completed before the wyrms would receive him as their ruler.”

“Such as?” As strange as the proposal was, Lorayla couldn’t help but be interested. To receive love from a son was appealing. Perhaps joining Thoron’s world would give her a sense of direction, a sense of purpose…a new life. I could love and care for him and receive the same in return. Her heart already longed for it.

Thoron removed his hand from his side and breathed deep. “First, he’d have to master shifting into his wyrm form. He would be a half-breed, and the darkwyrms certainly will not accept him if he cannot transform into a wyrm.”

Lorayla pinched her brow. “What else?” she asked impatiently. The depths of her glowing crystal became dark and murky.

“To show, without a doubt, he is indeed of Fyros’s royal wyrm bloodline, he would need to wield at least one of the ancient wyrms’ artifact cloaks. Two cloaks would be even more convincing, and I happen to know of two. The Cloak of the Void belongs to my brother, Thoros. As chance would have it, I wield the other, the Cloak of Embers.”

“That tattered mess you’re wearing is a magical cloak?” Lorayla puffed between her lips.

“Its appearance is a magical camouflage of my design. What you should be asking is how to procure the Cloak of the Void.” Thoron reached into his cloak and held up a purple crystal ring. “This ring will allow you to communicate with some of my faithful who dwell with my brother at the Pillar of Fire. They can provide information on the cloak’s whereabouts and possibly aid you in determining a favorable time to obtain the cloak for yourself.”

Lust filled Lorayla’s heart with each passing moment as Thoron spoke. The crystal in her hand continued to darken her heart and twist her thoughts. It was doing its handiwork to perfection.

Rising from his seat, Thoron winced in discomfort but began to pace around Lorayla and the magical fire. “Once you’ve obtained one or both cloaks, my son will then have to present himself to the darkwyrms. He will, no doubt, be challenged by some, but I’m certain he’ll be strong enough to hold his own and sit upon the throne. The only other obstacle would be the Guardians of old awakening.”

Lorayla looked away from Thoron, the mention of guardians causing her emotions to spike. “Once in a while, the adventurers at the tavern spoke of the guardians, but only in passing. Magic or dragons were also subjects of guardian discussion.”

“The guardians are dragon protectors of magic from a time long past,” Thoron said matter-of-factly. “Many thought them dead, but we wyrms know better than to forget the days of old. No, they sleep in a shadowed slumber, each under one of the peaks of the Foghorn Mountains of the Northwest.”

“Why should there be any concern for dragons who sleep? If they are asleep, they are no threat.”

Thoron raised a hand and clenched it. “Because they are the ones who denied us the honor of being guardians! They sealed my people within the confines of the Broken Sea! I warn you, do not underestimate them. Should they awaken, they will pose the greatest threat to you and your son’s ascension to power. Think about it…once the darkwyrms fully support you, what could possibly stop you from controlling all the territories of Kaelethin?”

Lorayla had never yearned for power, but the crystal’s influence made the notion enticing.

The man glanced down at his wound. “I would have done it myself and claimed much power and glory, but I’m out of time.” He stopped moving, standing within an arm’s reach of Lorayla. Now it is time to test the waters.

Lorayla fidgeted as Thoron looked her over with narrowed eyes.

“Yet, now that I think about it,” he continued, “I don’t feel you’re completely ready for this. After all, you are grieving major personal losses. Because of this, no doubt, you appear broken…frail. The idea of my son being raised by you…well, I believe this was a mistake. I think it’s time you handed back my crystal. I should never have proposed anything to you. You’re too weak.” He extended his hand to Lorayla for the return of his crystal.

Thoron’s crafty words kindled a fierce anger within Lorayla, intensified by the crystal’s influence. Her heart hardened. She would commit unspeakable acts to protect the crystal. The light emanating from the crystal darkened, and Lorayla’s countenance became sinister. The woman pressed the crystal to her chest and raised from the ground, the rays from her crystal bending and turning into wind around her.

“Try and take it from me,” she taunted, her tone matching the villainous look on her face. “Son or not, I’ll kill you before you even lay a hand on it!” Lorayla raised her arms and clenched her fists, readying herself for a lethal encounter. The influence of an imaginative thought from her crystal entered her mind, and a surge of power tingled through her arms. The purple wind about her churned around her hands. The chain latches on her gloves glowed with a dark purple radiance as they came alive with power.

Thoron stepped back from Lorayla. “You’re ready to kill me, aren’t you?” he asked with a subtle smirk.

“It’s mine!” Lorayla shouted, flicking her wrist at Thoron as if throwing a rock. The churning currents of wind around her hand collapsed into a single stream and extended like a whip. The purple light within the stream warped and bent, eclipsing into a chain of glowing, purple crystals. The whip whirred through the air with deadly intent. It wrapped around an arm Thoron raised to protect himself and Lorayla pulled it taut. A burning sensation pulsed throughout Thoron’s arm as his life energy began to drain. Lorayla’s eyes widened with excitement as evil energy reverberated in her body.

“Now you’re ready.” Thoron wickedly grinned. With an imaginative thought, magical tendrils of purple wind surrounded his arm, and his war-gauntlet materialized, shattering the chain links around his arm into glowing fragments that dissipated in midair. The gauntlet disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. Thoron lowered his arm, the purple streams around it dying out. He flinched from the growing pain in his side, but a new, hot pulsing pain drew his eyes to his arm, which was now branded by the pattern of the chain Lorayla had bound him with.  

The excruciating pain Thoron experienced would be unbearable for lesser creatures than him, but he remained focused on the woman before him. Most darkwyrms of the Broken Sea were adept at tolerating pain, having survived much brutal training that would leave most others dead. Despite his training and focus, however, Thoron was on edge. He looked at the dark tunnel leading to Vauxton, then trepidatiously at Lorayla, who was drawing her chain back for her next attack.  

“I won’t be with you for much longer,” muttered Thoron. “It’s time…” He trailed off as smoky mist intermixed with purple particles of light materialized and engulfed him. The mist expanded, then dissipated, and there, before Lorayla, stood the magnificently terrifying wyrm she had seen Thoron shift into in his dream. With desire still overwhelming her senses, the woman prepared to strike.