She couldn’t help but laugh. “That’s it? That’s your best line? You’re not even going to tell me how a war with the Twelve would reunite Galifar and bring us all together again?”
Drego didn’t smile. “I could. But perhaps I’m tired of this game, of hiding my true feelings behind this childish flirtation. Maybe it’s time to set aside the masks.”
“Fine,” Thorn said, mystified. “You first.”
Drego shook his head. “There’s no point. Have you ever been in love, Lantern?”
This certainly wasn’t where she had expected the conversation to go, but she followed the path. “Once, yes.”
“And what became of your beloved?”
“We served together. One mission, I came back. He didn’t.”
“And do you still think about him? Do you see him in your dreams?”
“Yes, I suppose I do.”
“Now imagine you were asked to serve with a doppelganger, someone who looked just like him but who was nothing like him. Someone with the mind of a child, filled with foolish beliefs. What would you do?”
Thorn frowned. “Aureon’s Word, what are you talking about?”
Drego laughed, and just like that, the mood was broken. The mischievous gleam was back, the sly smile. “My apologies, my lady. I thought a little pathos might make for an interesting change from the schoolyard antics.”
Thorn studied his face. She had a knack for reading people, and he seemed utterly sincere. On the other hand, he’d fooled her in Droaam. She wanted to press the point further, but before she could speak, Daine emerged from the cathedral. Xu’sasar was with him, leaning on her bone staff to keep weight off her injured leg.
“We must go,” Daine said. “Drego, do you know a path to the Cardinal Point?”
Drego glanced over at Thorn, a curious expression in his eyes-a combination of mischief and curiosity. “Yes, I believe I do.” He rose to his feet and held out a hand. “Lady Thorn, are you ready to fight your second angel?”
She stood on her own, ignoring the proffered hand. “Always. What about Brom?”
“There’s nothing more to be done for him,” Drego said. “At least, with Vorlintar defeated, the souls of his victims can finally rest.”
“So we’re just leaving him here?”
“This is war, Thorn, even if it is only the first day of it. There will be time to mourn the fallen when it is done. This place was his home, and through his actions it is a better place. He will be at peace here.”
Thorn nodded. He was right, of course. It wasn’t the first time she’d had to leave a body behind. She turned to Xu’sasar. “Will you be all right?”
Apparently Xu’sasar’s people had no custom of the sentimental farewell. “Fail him, and I will hunt your soul in the final lands,” she said. She looked back at Daine. “Die well.”
He turned to Drego and Thorn. “Come. Destiny awaits.”
Thorn’s hand slid down to Steel’s hilt.
I hope you know what you’re doing, Lantern Thorn.
So do I, she thought.
CHAPTER TWENTY — EIGHT
Fallen Lharvion 22, 999 YK
To Thorn’s surprise, Drego led them back into the cathedral. He summoned a sphere of silver flame to light his path and walked through the nave. The cold fire cast pale light across the dead children spread around the hall. It was a strange and horrible sight, mitigated only by the beatific expressions on the faces of the fallen. Thorn hadn’t been able to save them, but at least they were free of Vorlintar.
Drego paused, closing his eyes. Thorn drew Steel. Surely no one could fault her for keeping a weapon ready in such a place.
I’m certain he’s using some form of divination, but I’m still sensing no mystical energies, Steel whispered. Whether it’s training or a tool, it’s a powerful abjuration. I wonder what else he’s hiding.
“Yes,” Drego said. “I thought so. Follow me.”
He made his way along the western wall, passing by chapels dedicated to individual Sovereigns. With the death of Vorlintar, the angel’s illusionary influence over the cathedral was fading. When the angel was alive, the hall had appeared to be pristine. Now Thorn could see the cracks in the walls and the shattered benches. The statues of the Sovereigns were still intact, and freed from Vorlintar’s influence, their expressions were those Thorn knew from her youth. Stern Aureon, loremaster and lawmaker. Gentle Arawai, source of nature’s bounty. Mischievous Olladra, fortune’s queen.
What made you think Daine wanted to you fight a dragon? Steel said.
Thorn rubbed her thumb against his hilt. What do you mean?
The Angel of Flame. When Daine used the name, you asked if you were going to fight a dragon. Why would you think such a thing?
Thorn brought the blade up to her mouth. “Sarmondelaryx,” she whispered. “What can you tell me about her?”
There was no response from Steel. Thorn was momentarily distracted as she navigated a narrow flight of spiral stairs down to the catacombs of the church. The ancient steeps were thin and steep, often slick with moss or half-crumbled away. Once they reached the bottom of the stairs, Thorn repeated her question. “What can you tell me?”
This time she’d spoken too loudly. Both Drego and Daine glanced back at her. “About our destination,” she continued. “This ‘Cardinal Point’.”
The crypts below the church were narrow and dark. Thorn had expected it to be cold, but instead, there was a definite warmth in the air.
“It’s where the walls between Syrania and Eberron are the weakest,” Drego said. “The mystical center of the city. It’s the energy of Syrania that sustains the flying buttresses and the other forms of levitation so common in Sharn; ultimately, that energy flows from the Azure Sky of Syrania.”
“Fascinating,” Thorn said. She tapped Steel.
It’s irrelevant to our mission.
Thorn tapped his hilt twice. Usually Steel loved a chance to play Morgrave scholar. “Tell me,” she whispered.
The Angel of Flame is one of the titles used by the dragon Sarmondelaryx, but it’s only mentioned in Bal Thurin’s treatises. She was generally known as the Red Wyrm, or more infamously as the Bane of Thrane.
She tapped the hilt a single time. When Galifar was still a young kingdom, the Bane of Thrane carried out a campaign of destruction across Thrane, razing village and castle alike. The young prince raised a host of heroes, and they met the dragon on Toran’s Field, near the Golden Forest. The army was laid low, the prince was slain, and the Golden Forest was henceforth known as the Burnt Wood.
But Sarmondelaryx…
She tapped the blade again.
Some say that it was her defeat of the prince that paved the way for the rise of the Silver Flame, Steel whispered, sounding vaguely annoyed. The people of the land were deeply loyal to the Sovereign Host and Dol Arrah at the time. Many scholars say that the devastation wrought by the Angel of Flame-along with her defeat of the man seen as the Sovereigns’ chosen champion-caused many to lose faith in the old gods. It’s only one factor, certainly, but an interesting possibility.
They’d continued to descend as Steel spoke. There was a pleasant warmth in the air, though Thorn noticed that Daine and Drego were sweating profusely.
Steel was continuing the history lesson. Though best known for her actions against Thrane, Sarmondelaryx mostly targeted individual heroes, slaying the greatest champion of an age and then disappearing for decades. Some stories say that she’d made deals with the Keeper, and that she devoured the souls of heroes as part of some gruesome pact. Her last recorded appearance was her battle with our friend Harryn Stormblade, and that was hundreds of years ago. Most likely she’s long dead… certainly no threat to Sharn or Breland. Much unlike our friend
