#broken oaths

They traveled south for a while longer, and as they did, the peaks grew taller and thicker, capped with fresh snow. The summits finally gave way to a hidden vale. Stagthorne pointed to twin claws of stone that jutted from the earth. A strange glow resided in the mist between the two. “There,” he said against the wind, “Anvil Rock.”

A chill ran spidery fingers over Glaw’s skin as they touched down on the frozen lake beside Anvil Rock’s mouth. They gazed up at the glowing split, and a hollow feeling carved a home in their chest. Jormag was in there, they were sure of it.

As if summoned by their thoughts, an all-too-familiar voice hummed through the air. “Ah, my dear child. I was wondering when you would show up.” An icy horn emerged from the mist, juxtaposed blue against the orange glow. Two brilliant points the shade of rime frost marked Jormag’s eyes, and their maw appeared to be grinning as they slunk out of the fog. Their form took up most of the cavity between Anvil Rock, and the spines of their back brushed against the craggy stone above.

Whatever words Glaw had mentally written for this encounter abandoned them. They swallowed thickly, panic and nausea gripping their chest.

“Norn,” Stagthorne hissed, darting a glance at them. “Whatever plan you had for Jormag, I suggest you do it. They aren’t looking that pleased that you’re here, and we don’t really have an army to take them.”

Glaw bridled the panic before it could run loose and nodded. They steeled themself and slid out of the saddle. With a motion to Stagthorne to stay with Frigg, they marched through the thin blanket of snow covering the frozen lake. Jormag watched them with lidded interest as they came closer; they stopped in the middle ground between Frigg and Jormag. Here goes nothing. Glaw drew their sword in a single motion, and flames licked up the dark blade. “Jormag! I challenge you.”

Silence reigned. And then: laughter. Quiet at first, a susurrus tickling the ears like the taunting of winter bitterness, and then it grew cavernous and bellowing, so loud that it made Glaw’s ears ache.

“I knew you were stupid, dearest Glaw, but not so much as to show it off so boldly.” Jormag jeered. “I could crush you like a fly.” The bravery that had lit a fire in Glaw’s chest dwindled and died as Jormag stretched, looming ever taller until they threatened to eclipse the low morning sun. “Perhaps I will, for all the insolence and disrespect you have shown me.”

Glaw felt the panic return, lapping at the edges of their resolve with the hunger of an incoming tide. They took another step forward, the tip of their sword now kissing the snow. It sizzled at the contact. “Wait! Then let me make a deal with you.” Jormag paused, and Glaw got the feeling they were amused like how one might find an ant funny. “I--I give you my life, everything I am and ever will be, on two conditions.”

“And what are your conditions, little norn?” Jormag purred.

“You help free Braham Eirsson of Primordus’ corruption to where he is no longer the dragon’s champion. Ensure that he is safe.” Glaw’s voice cracked. They coughed and continued louder. “And secondly, you give up your crusade, let Primordus return to his slumber and terrorize Tyria no more.”

Laughter erupted again, this time before Glaw finished speaking. It echoed around them in chittering cries, bouncing off every fractal of snow and ice within the vale. “This is your wager? A paltry sum for such a large ask. Your life means nothing to me, dear child. Even less so. You have already betrayed me once; what is to keep you from breaking it a second time?”

Glaw’s heart hammered in their chest. They swallowed in the hopes that it would not leap out their throat when they next spoke. “I will let you complete your corruption.” They held up their icy arm now, letting it catch the dawn light. A rainbow array of color flittered across the snow.

“No.”

Breath hissed from between Glaw’s teeth. Jormag considered them with glittering and cruel eyes. “You stand before me, Glaw Oathbreaker, and offer me things I can already take. Your efforts are misguided, and you make deals, not even to seek forgiveness, without any of the friends you gave it all away for.”

A crackling of light splintered the air to Jormag’s right as a rift opened, and Ryland emerged from the shifting blue, followed by a horde of icebrood. “You should run while you still can, little one.”

Glaw’s feet felt leaden, but they kicked them into action, panic giving them wind as the icebrood caught sight of them and began a charge with a roar. The distance to Frigg suddenly felt massive, and their breath heaved painfully in their lungs.

Two meters from Frigg, and Glaw stumbled as the ground shook. The keening whine of rock breaking against rock rent the air, and a creeping heat crawling across the snow where Glaw found their feet again. Glaw watched, slack-jawed, as magma sloughed off the shape larger than Jormag that had emerged from the frozen earth.

“Primordus. Shit.” Glaw nearly stumbled again, but they reached Frigg and almost wrenched their good arm out of its socket as they hauled themself into the saddle.

“Get us out of here.” Stagthorne bit out over their shoulder, now on the tail-end of the saddle.

“I’m trying, shut up,” Glaw snapped back. They grabbed for the reins, and Frigg sprang into the air. Frozen claws slashed at the space where her tail had been. They lurched upwards. Glaw wheeled Frigg away from the sudden battlefield, where icebrood and destroyers were clashing together.

Steam rolled across the frozen lake, and Glaw cursed when they could no longer see much of anything. They set Frigg down on a small hillside and tossed the reins to Stagthorne. He protested loudly. “Wait, where are you going? You can’t be thinking of going in there!”

Among the steam and lines of dragon minions, Glaw spotted Braham. Cold talons curled around their heart as they took in the unnatural glow that laced over him and the molten rock that dripped from his touch. “Jormag was right,” they called to Stagthorne as they descended the hill, “I am stupid.”

“EIRSSON!” Ryland’s shout echoed across the battlefield, and he bore down on Braham with his sword drawn. Glaw stopped at the edge of the lake, watching helplessly as the two champions braced against each other, neither gaining any ground. The minutes dragged on before reprieve came.

‘I see you started the party without us, Glaw.’ Rook’s dry tone crackled over the comms. Glaw scrambled for the little device; they had forgotten they had stashed it in their satchel.

“Commander, where--?”

‘Coming down behind you. More reinforcements are inbound; we’re just the welcoming party.’

Glaw turned and watched as Ace landed with Rook. Several choppers descended behind the Commander, as well as Froki with Bryn and Sari on his back. “Commander,” Glaw said as they went up to meet Rook. She leveled a look at Glaw.

“We’re going to talk about your stunt later, don’t worry. For now, make yourself useful. We had a plan, but it seems you beat us to the punch on drawing the dragons here. We’ll just have to catch up.” Rook waved a hand to a crowd of people who Glaw dimly recognized as members of the Crystal Bloom. They guided a large crystal to the edge of the lake and began tinkering with the strange device looped around it.

Glaw looked back to Rook. “What can I do?”

Rook surveyed the battlefield. “Neither Elder Dragon will engage so long as their champions are there to do the dirty work.” She fixed her gaze on Glaw, the hardened look softening. “Can I trust you to get Braham out of commission?”

The vice around Glaw’s heart lessened its grip. “Of course,” they said immediately.

“Be safe out there, Glaw.”

Glaw mustered a half smile. “You, too, Commander. See you on the other side.”

 The battlefield was a mess, far worse than the aftermath that had been at Wolf Crossing. Mist shrouded fallen bodies of icebrood and destroyers alike, and the surface of the icy lake was rutted and pocked from crashing molten rock and ice shards.

Sweat clung to Glaw in a thin layer, borne from the heavy steam springing up from the slowly-melting lake surface. Their breath was labored as they plunged their way into the thick of the fight in search of Braham. They found Primordus’ champion still locked in an arms race with Ryland, although Braham had succeeded in pushing Ryland closer and closer to Jormag’s side. If either party had exchanged any words, they were now reduced to strained grunts and guttural bellows.

“Braham!” Glaw called out once they were within earshot. They got Braham’s attention, and Ryland snuck in an attack. Glaw winced as A heavy blow from Ryland’s sword staggered Braham back a few feet. Braham roared and fixed his gaze on Glaw.

“Shit,” Glaw muttered, backpedaling as Braham bore down towards them. They narrowly dodged a heavy blow from Braham’s now-molten mace. The ground beneath their feet splintered. “Braham! It’s me, Glaw! I’m not your enemy!”

An ugly scowl disfigured Braham’s face, one now cracked with fire that pulsed beneath his skin. He swung again, this time clipping Glaw on their icy shoulder. They hissed and clutched at the steaming impact. “Stop, I don’t want to fight you!”

The next blow faltered before it could land. Once again, Ryland used Braham’s hesitation to his advantage. Jormag’s champion slammed his frosted sword against Braham’s pauldron. Braham bellowed in pain, and he stumbled to his knees. Glaw watched in horror as Ryland, with a grin twisting his muzzle, raised his sword for a killing blow.

Glaw surged forward and thrust their arm out. Flames licked up their sleeve and flew from their fingertips. Ryland recoiled as the fire bit at his face and scalded his armor. The attack did little other than slow him down. He recovered quickly, looking more annoyed than gleeful. Glaw fired off another burst, gritting their teeth as their corrupted arm began to ache. Clenching their icy fingers until the frozen flesh groaned in protest, they coaxed the flames hotter, brighter, and lobbed it at Ryland.

Ryland snarled, and Jormag’s voice came from his throat. “Careful, child. Burn too hot and you’ll lose everything.”

Through bared teeth, which Glaw was pretty sure were streaked with blood at this point from biting their tongue, they managed a breathy chuckle and a tight-cheeked grin. “That’s the idea.”

They felt it start at the elbow, a thin crack that quickly lanced upwards to the shoulder. It widened with a stab of white-hot agony. The ice of their arm hissed and steamed, and on top of the glistening ice-melt, crimson and blue flames danced.

“Do this, and you will never regain the memories I took from you. They will be lost to you forever. You can still finish your oath; the Commander isn’t too far away.”

Glaw laughed, teeth clacking and sweat dripping down their face. Their right arm was racked with tremors as the fire consuming it grew greater. “I broke that oath long ago, Jormag...” they rasped, “you and I both know it. I’m tired of you lauding it over my head.”

With a raucous scream that scraped the back of their throat raw with embers and ash and snow and ice, they felt fire lick up the rest of their being, and they descended on Ryland. They gripped his wrist until the sword clattered from his grasp, and they didn’t let go after. If they did, they would surely collapse. Pain almost consumed them, tunneling their vision black until only the memory of shapes flooded their sight. A tremor ran up their arm, and they fell away from Ryland. Away from Braham. Away from consciousness.

 Wakefulness came back with radiant colors, fuzzy edges, and pain. A slow, throbbing, aching pain that originated from their right side. They were propped against something--a rock?--and a thick blanket was wrapped around their shoulders.

“You with me, Glaw?” Glaw knew that voice. Sybi... Siri... Sari. Glaw blinked and reeled as Sari’s face swam into view in front of them. They made a gurgled noise of assent. “Good, good. I’ll let the Commander know you’re not dead.” Sari’s fuzzy shape disappeared, and was replaced by Rook’s.

“Glaw, good to see you.”

Glaw grinned softly, some of the background shapes swimming into view. “Told you I’d see you on the other side,” they said gruffly. “This is the other side, right? We won?”

Rook pulled on a smile, and Glaw felt the weight of her hand on their shoulder. “We won.” Rook’s voice sounded close to breaking, like she’d yelled herself hoarse.

Glaw furrowed their brow, and the sharp acuity of realization brought the world into focus. “Where’s Braham?”

Sari’s paw gripped Glaw’s other shoulder, the one wrapped in sticky bandages and poultices. The one that ached with the memory of something more cold and bitter. The rising jerk that Glaw attempted was cut off, and they hissed in pain.

“Where’s Braham?” they asked again, voice ragged and raw. The taste of blood haunted the back of their tongue. “Commander?”

“They’re still looking for him,” Rook said like the admittance pained her. “Jormag and Primordus didn’t go out quietly, so there’s a lot of rubble to sift through.”

“How could you get me out but not him?” Glaw snapped, wriggling again under the duo’s dual grip. It only brought them another chastising ache.

“When we found you, we didn’t see Braham anywhere. I promise, we’re not giving up. We’ll find him, Glaw,” Rook soothed. Glaw fell back and closed their eyes, letting the pain wash over them. They snapped out of the fugue when a voice called from a distance. It came like a saving grace.

“Commander, we’ve got him!”

In an instant, the hands that held Glaw down were gone. No one stopped them from rising, and Sari just watched with disappointment and a shake of her head as Glaw followed after Rook. Their breath rattled in their chest, and they hugged the blanket tighter around their shoulders as a chill beset them. The path into the crater that stood where the lake once sat was treacherous; Glaw slipped at least twice.

Rook didn’t seem surprised to see them appear at her side as they rounded a pile of freshly-moved boulders. “Braham!” Glaw wasn’t sure who said the exclamation.

“How am I... not dead?” Braham’s voice grated out roughly, and he looked as he sounded: covered in dust and ash and far too many burns to be healthy.

“You’re... yourself?” Glaw croaked out. Oh, they sounded awful, too. Braham met their gaze, and Glaw couldn’t keep the tears from forming. They traced tracks through their ashen face as they fell.

“As far as I can tell, yeah.” Braham looked down at his hands, ones that were bruised and battered and webbed with the memories of molten rock. “How-how many did we lose?”

“Far less than we would have if you hadn’t done what you did,” Rook said. Her gaze was searching as she swept it up and down Braham. “Are the Spirits of the Wild still with you?”

“They’re the ones that kept me from losing myself completely. They’ll need some time to recover.”

“You need time, Braham. To rest. To heal.” Rook flicked her gaze between Braham and Glaw. “You, too, Glaw.”

Braham huffed, and the noise turned into a cough. “You’re a hypocrite, Commander.”

Rook smiled softly. “The biggest one,” she agreed. “Go on, get your wounds looked at. And you need to go with him, Glaw. Sari will give me an earful later for letting you run around looking half dead.”

“I will, Commander.” Glaw said it with tired sincerity. Since finding Braham, whatever last few fumes they had been running on had bottomed out, and they felt themself swaying on their feet. They helped Braham stand, leaning on him as much as he was leaning on them, and together, they limped their way back up out of the crater. Sari greeted them at the top with reprimanding words and a scathing glare, but she made no move to separate them. She wouldn’t have been able to, had she tried.

Glaw balked. “What? Why?”

Rook wetted her lips. “I don’t think you’d be going into this mission with a clear head. We need everyone at their best right now.”

Indignation stole the breath from Glaw’s lungs. “I--how is it just me who won’t have a clear head. What Braham did--”

“Is exactly why you’re staying here.” Rook finally met Glaw’s gaze; her amber eyes were blazing with conviction. Glaw averted her stare when she spotted the wetness of tears glimmering alongside the conviction. Rook took the movement as acquiescence and continued on her way to the chopper. Glaw watched her go, anger and bitterness beating in her chest like a hailstorm.

She turned on her heel sharply and made back for the Hall. She wasn’t sure where her feet were taking her in their fervor, and when she reined in the frenetic breathing making her lightheaded, she found herself midway through packing her old satchel. Glaw swallowed and rolled her knuckles before continuing. If she couldn’t attend the fight, she’d go start a new one. All the way at the top. Jormag was out there, and the waking of Primordus probably had them weak and scared. Glaw just had to find them and end it. That would fix everything--every damned problem that had been plaguing them since the beginning of this mess.

Glaw roused Frigg; the skyscale rose with a discontented rumble, but she was soothed with chin scratches and a piece of old jerky from Glaw’s pack. Putting the saddle on was muscle memory, almost a balm to the rampant thoughts coursing through Glaw’s head. She grabbed Frigg’s reins and lead the skyscale into the Eye of the North’s courtyard, doing her best to appear inconspicuous. She was definitely supposed to be sneaking away on some secret mission.

She got as far as the courtyard’s edge, in a quiet corner behind some crates, and had one foot in the stirrup when a voice her made her shoulders jump for her ears.

“Going somewhere?”

Glaw recognized that smarmy voice. She turned towards Stagthorne. The sylvari reclined against the crates, his arms crossed and his eyes sweeping over her and her saddled skyscale with lazy interest. “Just... going out for some fresh air.” Spirits, Glaw wished she could lie as smoothly as Rook.

“Really?” Stagthorne drawled. Glaw was beginning to get the notion that the sylvari liked the sound of his own voice. “Because I was under the impression that you were grounded.”

Glaw swallowed and found her throat dry. “What’s it to you?” she asked; that definitely didn’t sound defensive at all.

Pushing himself off the crates, Stagthorne shrugged. He approached Frigg and held out a tentative hand to the beast. Frigg sniffed the proffered palm, and upon finding it empty of treats, snorted into it. Stagthorne recoiled, his face scrunched in disgust. He wiped his hand on his tunic and schooled his expression. “I get the feeling that you’re going off to do some derring-do that may or may not involve a certain Elder Dragon.”

Glaw squared her shoulders. She stood a good four heads taller than the sylvari, and she cut an imposing figure in her own right. Stagthorne shifted back a step. “Again, what’s it to you?”

“I’m going with you.”

Glaw’s eyebrows shot up. She hadn’t been expecting that answer. “What? You are? Why?” was all she managed.

“I’ve been stuck here for over two months; I’m tired of having to do menial tasks for priory members who will never be satisfied. I want out.” Stagthorne said. He rocked on the balls of his feet as he talked, appearing as restless as Glaw felt. Glaw narrowed her eyes. After a beat, Stagthorne added, “and I want to keep my sister safe.” For the first time since Glaw had known him, he spoke candidly. “If that means taking down Jormag, so be it.”

Glaw tilted her head. “Alright, you want to go with me, but why should I let you? That’s both my ass and your ass in trouble if we get caught, and somehow I feel like I’ll be blamed for it, especially if something goes wrong. And you’ll weigh down Frigg.” That last part was a lie; Frigg was perfectly capable of carrying two fully grown warrior norn; Stagthorne’s scrawny frame would be nothing to her. Glaw was reluctant to let the sylvari go with her, though.

“Well, I’ll let Rook know that you’ve snuck off if you leave me behind. Collateral, you know. I also know where Jormag is.” Stagthorne stepped forward, although he stopped as Glaw whipped her head up to stare incredulously at him. “I may have... spoken to the Dragon a while ago. I stumbled across them during my travels, and it’s how I knew about you and your oath... issue. But that’s not important. What’s important is that Jormag did their whole spiel about granting power, blah blah.” Stagthorne flapped his hand. "And promised to tell me the location of a potent leyline nexus if I did them a favor. They made good on their promise and let me in on the secret. Bastardous snake failed to mention that trying to tape a leyline raw is maddening, so it was useless to me in the end.”

Glaw snapped her fingers. “Only maddening to a mortal; to an elder dragon looking for power, it would be the perfect place to lie low.”

Stagthorne grinned, all teeth. “Precisely. All I ask is that I am allowed to accompany you on your errant mission, and I will show you to Jormag’s doorstep.”

Doubt still gnawed at Glaw. This could all be an elaborate ruse pieced together by the Dragon; it certainly wouldn’t be the most complicated thing Jormag had played. Glaw met Stagthorne’s gaze, his eyes almost as golden as Rook’s, and she swallowed her doubts. “Alright, climb on. I think that magister over there is starting to get suspicious.”

Stagthorne clambered ungainly onto Frigg, and the skyscale huffed at him in annoyance. She settled, and Glaw climbed on behind Stagthorne. The wind whistled in her ears as they launched into the sky. Glaw closed her eyes and dragged in a deep breath. For the first time that morning, her thoughts were silent, consumed by the wailing of the wind and the feeling of Frigg’s wing beats beneath her. She was reluctant to open her eyes once more. “Okay, point me in the direction of the Dragon.”

Stagthorne’s voice almost didn’t register over the harsh mountain gale ripping past them. “South. I don’t suppose you’ve heard of Anvil Rock?”

Glaw racked her brain. She came up empty. “Nope.”

Stagthorne’s sigh was audible, and he muttered something about norn and dwarves. “South, just head south for a while. You’ll know it when you see it.” The sylvari lapsed into silence, his hands gripping the horn of the saddle so tight that Glaw thought his fingers might splinter. She nudged Frigg southward and let her gaze wander over the frozen mountain peaks. The anger in her gut began to die, curling into trepidation. It was too late to turn back now.

 They passed over swathes of golden grasslands littered with patches of snow, a scene unlike one Glaw had seen yet. She remained silent in her awe, her mouth set in a thin line as they pressed onwards. She couldn’t afford to go gawking over things now; if she succeeded in her mission, there would be plenty of time for that later, hopefully with Braham at her side. The golden hills petered into snowy mountains once more as they adjusted their course, and on the horizon Glaw saw a cloud, gray and menacing and dark, rolling towards them with the impassiveness that only a storm carries. Hot winds met them before the thunderhead did, bringing with it a foreboding smell of ash and ozone.

Glaw squinted as small white flakes began to pelt her cheeks. She darted her tongue out to taste them; it was a stomach-churning mixture of ashen snow, cold despite the thermal breeze buffeting them. Frigg gave an anxious rumble. Glaw patted her flank and tucked them into a stoop. She tried to get beneath the cloud, away from the pervasive taste of smoke and ice, but the roiling mass of gray encompassed them fully now. They were flying blind. Frigg narrowly rolled away from colliding with a mountain peak that suddenly loomed out of the haze. Stagthorne squawked at the action, clutching at his handhold tighter. Glaw pulled her shirt over her mouth and yelled to Stagthorne, “I’m going to have to set down somewhere. We can’t fly in this. Frigg’s going to end up colliding with something.”

“Please, do!” Stagthorne’s yelp was a far cry from the normally composed and collected tone the sylvari usually used. Glaw clicked her tongue to Frigg and pointed her into a dive. Ash and snow made Glaw’s eyes burn and water. Relief flooded her bones when Frigg alighted on solid ground: a rough outcropping of rock and dirt with a few sorry evergreens making up a small copse. Glaw slid off of Frigg and Stagthorne followed, unsure on his feet. He kept a hand pressed against Frigg’s side, although Glaw wasn’t sure if it were to keep his balance or to keep from losing them in the growing gray.

Glaw squinted against the ashy-snowy wind and picked out a small shelter made from an upturned tree. “Don’t get lost,” she shouted to her companion and started for the root ball. She felt coated in a sludge of ash and cold water by the time they reached it, and she slumped down against the tip-tilted roots with a sigh of relief. Behind the shelter, the air was clearer and the wind lessened. Glaw pulled a rag from her satchel and wiped the ash sludge from her brow. She tossed the rag to Stagthorne, barking out a laugh as he startled when it hit him fully in the face.

“We’ll have to weather the storm here and hope it passes soon. Best get comfortable.” Glaw settled her back against the roots and continued to slick off the worst of the muck. Frigg, well accustomed to the ritual of ‘sit and wait’, hunkered down beside Glaw and offered herself as another wall against the blowing snow and ash. Stagthorne shook off whatever stupor gripped him and began to towel himself off with the old rag. Glaw watched him while she rummaged through her satchel. She had definitely thrown a few fresh strips of jerky and a parcel of bread and cheese in there somewhere...

The food was found by the time Glaw’s sylvari companion had finished his rub down, and she offered some of the goods to him. He wrinkled his nose at the cheese but accepted the bread and meat. After a forethought, Glaw got a muttered, “thank you.” She grunted in response and began to process of chewing through her own stringy meal. They ate in silence, and the quiet persisted long after. The storm still raged on for what felt like hours, and Glaw was sure the sky had gone and gotten dark and filled with stars somewhere beyond the roaring gale of cold ash.

She was halfway through a doze when Stagthorne spoke. Curled up against Frigg’s warmth, Glaw cracked open an eye. The sylvari was hunched in on himself, lanky arms curled around his knees as he stared absently at the patch of dirt between them. “Before a few months ago, the last time I had seen Rook was before she became the Commander. She was still a valiant back then, bright-eyed and so naïve to the world... always did believe she could save all of it.” He huffed a humorless laugh and looked up at Glaw. “We never really got along even then. Me, the pragmatist and her the dreamer. Literally. She was the one with the legendary Wyld Hunt, and I was her dreamless podtwin. I let jealousy push such a wedge between us.” Stagthorne swallowed. “I--I’m hoping once Jormag is gone, I can... reconnect. Perhaps if I make myself useful, it’ll make things smoother.”

Glaw blinked the rest of her dozing and a little bit of ash from her eyes and sat up straighter. She cleared her throat, unsure of what to say to the suddenly vulnerable display from Stagthorne. “I don’t remember any of my family,” she said lamely and immediately winced at the bluntness. “I mean that--” she sighed and started again. “I only recently got to re-meet Bryn, my sister. It hasn’t always gone smoothly.” She might have sent Stagthorne a glare. Just a little one. “But one thing remains: she’s my sister, and I think as long as I make the choice to maintain that relationship, it will always mend itself in the end.” She paused, feeling Raven’s wisdom guiding her tongue. “Building family takes effort, but once you’ve forged those bonds, nothing can break them, no matter how much they are battered. I think the Commander--Rook has helped me realize that.”

The rest of the conversation was lost to Glaw as he narrowly avoided the kiss of an icy blade to his neck. Blood rushing in his ears drowned out the hum of words, and acting more on instinct than reason, he summoned a dagger of ice in his hand. The weapon sat familiar and cold in the curve of his palm, and the Svanir he faced died with a wet gurgle as he shoved the frozen shard into the concave between his neck and his chin.

Glaw fell back with a muffled gasp, spouting steam in short bursts of breath. His nerves tingled with the use of the ice magic he had ignored for so long, and his corrupted hand ground sharply over itself–ice against ice–as he closed the frozen digits into a tight fist. He didn’t have the luxury of getting lost in his head. The Svanir he downed was replaced by an angrier, larger brute.

“Fuck off,” Glaw snapped, placing his good hand on the Svanir’s bare chest. The Svanir, caught halfway in a downswing with his axe, fixed Glaw with the most perplexed look. His surprise was short-lived as fire began to lick from Glaw’s hand onto his skin and clothes of unwashed furs. Glaw could hear those screams, and he swallowed a wince at the shrillness of them. The Svanir abandoned his axe to the snow and turned tail, half slipping and sliding in the slush as he rushed to extinguish himself. He only made it a few steps before his screams were cut short by an arrow piercing his unprotected back. The snow almost swallowed him completely where he fell.

That one appeared to be the last of the Svanir from Svannijem Hold, and the woods howled eerily at the sudden emptiness. Glaw shivered. His hand fell to the comforting familiarity of his sword’s hilt as he slogged through the snow to join the rest of his companions.

“Braham.”

Glaw stopped cold as the faint voice–so faint that it was only not passed off as his imagination when the others stiffened in place as well–wafted over the landscape.

“I heard that one.” Kasmeer was the first to break the silence.

“Owl?”

“I feel you near.” Owl’s voice strained, almost fading out entirely. “Hurry. I cannot hold against Jormag’s champion much longer.”

“Is there a village nearby?” Kas’ question was directed at the Claw. The kodan shook her muzzle.

“There are no living out this way–only the memories of one who once was.”

Braham’s unease was palpable. His hand curled around the shaft of his mace until his knuckles bled pale of their color. “We’re almost there.”

With the Spirit’s desperate words to bolster them, they walked with haste to their step. The haste turned to fretful jogging–full running on Braham’s part, but there was only so fast even a norn could travel in thick snow–when a shriek split the air, foretelling of pain and suffering. Pins and needles prickled at Glaw’s exposed skin.

The visage of a half-collapsed shrine, all rotting wood and frozen bolts, crested the hill at the end of the path, and Braham raised a hand to point out the structure. The twist of his brow looked unnatural on his face. “There. It’s coming from there.”

Their arrival was far from sneaky, and as they neared the shrine, more Svanir with icebrood charr at their sides appeared from the wrecked longhall.

“I didn’t ask to be the Norn of damn Prophecy!” Braham’s declaration was accompanied with the sound of steel against steel–and then a bellow as the weaker blade gave way under sheer determination.

Glaw swallowed the words bubbling up in his chest and prepared himself for another fight. Thankfully, the Svanir weren’t as populous as they had been at the Hold, and once their numbers dwindled, the remaining began to flee. The charr lingered, sharing glances with each other, before retreating into the shrine.

“Voices have no say when a higher purpose calls.” The kodan Claw let her weapon dip into the overturned slush underfoot. Her shrewd gaze was pinned on Braham. “They allow the honor the mold them–just as you must.”

Braham scoffed, and Kasmeer chimed in. “Or, maybe he’s the Norn of Prophecy because of everything he’s done. Spiritual direction–I get it.” Kas shifted. Her expression wavered. “But it’s your choices and actions that mattered, Braham. They’re what made you who and what you are. Not some destiny or prophecy.”

For the first time that day, Glaw saw Braham smile. It was small and worn at the edges, threatening to dip back down into a frown that would inevitably put another crease in his brow, but it lingered for a moment. “Thanks, Kas.”

The smile was wiped away as another heart-rending scream rang across the icy vale, and they remembered where they were. Why they were here. Braham hefted his mace and started into the dilapidated shrine. Glaw followed, fingers still curled around his hilt. Somehow, the interior of the longhall was chillier than the arctic air outside. A miniature blizzard wailed at the shrine’s center, shrouding the totem of Owl from view. The Spirit’s voice still pierced the air.

“I exiled myself once!” The voice tapered off into a sound of agony. Glaw’s heart clenched at the noise. “—but I will go even further if I must, to keep power from Jormag.”

Through the blizzard, Ryland’s timbre also rang loud and clear. “You’re gonna help us, one way or another, so why not make it easier on yourself?”

“There is no ease in corruption,” Owl hissed.

“He’ll pull the life from her!” Braham echoed notes of Owl’s pain in his words, and Glaw thought back to the way he was acting earlier. As if he could feel the Spirit’s anguish. Glaw pressed his lips into a thin line.

Ryland seemed to realize he had an audience, and the blizzard cleared enough for Glaw to find him amongst the swirling snowflakes. He stood towards them with his arms spread, the chained spirit of Owl cowering behind him. “This one promised herself to Jormag once. Jormag is merely collecting on an old debt. My dragon doesn’t take promises lightly–ruse or not.”

His eyes seemed to linger for a moment, cold and burning, on Glaw. The look sent something horrible burrowing for Glaw’s core, and he shivered again. In an instant, the blizzard picked back up.

“We’re not going to be able to bring him down,” Kas called over the gale.

“We can’t leave Owl like this!” Braham protested, “Jormag can’t have her.”

Rook rested a hand on Braham’s arm. “We don’t have to kill him. Focus on the connection, Braham. We’ll split his focus.”

Braham pursed his lips before nodding. Rook’s touch fell away from his arm, and she turned to address the rest of them. “Kas, you and the Vanguard take care of the remainder of the charr. Don’t let them anywhere near Ryland.” Kas dipped her head with a wry smile and waved a hand at the company of human soldiers. The sounds of battle began to fill the cramped space. “Claw, you, Glaw, and I are going to make Ryland’s life a living hell.”

Glaw couldn’t help but give a small grin as well, and he drew his sword. “With pleasure.” The Claw murmured similar sentiments, and Glaw would be lying if he said he didn’t get enjoyment out of the way Ryland’s eyes bugged from his skull as their trio bore down on him. The charr split from Owl with a growl of frustration. With an alteration of blades and arrows, they drove him away from the chained Spirit, and Jormag’s champion was forced to duck and weave between the rotting columns of the shrine.

Their force dwindled to two–Glaw and the Claw–when Rook split off as Kas gave a call of alarm. The vanguard soldiers were scattered, and a hulking brute of a charr bore down on those still standing. Ryland laughed, a grinding wet noise like two frozen stones rubbing against each other. “A whole company of men is no match for Jormag’s finest,” he jeered.

Baring his teeth, Glaw swung at the gloating charr. Ryland stayed out of reach, and Glaw’s sword sunk into the snow-sodden wood of a pillar. The structure shook, and displaced flakes wafted from the patchy roof. Glaw tugged his blade free with a grunt. It was replaced with a frozen axe that had been destined for Glaw’s neck. The corrupted charr it belonged to howled in annoyance and was beaten back by the kodan Claw.

Then there was one.

Glaw sized up Ryland, sword held loosely at his side. In his other hand, he allowed a long shard of ice to form. Ryland eyed the elemental weapon. His lips pulled up in a smirk. “Your little icicles will do nothing to me.”

“Spirits, don’t you ever shut up,” Glaw said. He crossed his sword with Ryland’s own. The charr’s was heavier and spat ice magic that licked at the corruption of Glaw’s own right arm. It might have been his imagination, but the frozen limb began to feel leaden. Glaw parried the sword with the length of ice; fine shards sprayed in his face as the blade carved down the glacial pike. Ryland was growing frustrated, and Glaw barely had time to block the charr’s next blow as it came bearing down at his unprotected head. The ice shard caught the larger sword at an angle, and Glaw gasped as something in his wrist went crack. His moment of weakness earned him a clawed boot to the chest, and he sprawled backwards into the slush.

He brought an arm up to protect himself from a killing blow that never came, and when he pushed himself upright with a throbbing limb, Glaw saw that he had lost Ryland’s attention as soon as he was down. Jormag’s champion made a b-line for Owl Spirit–and Braham. Gritting his teeth, Glaw pulled himself upright and snatched his sword from the ground. He rolled his right wrist, biting out a hiss as it smarted. Not broken but likely sprained. Useless.

Rook joined him as he hurried towards the central shrine. She was as breathless as he felt. As they moved closer, Glaw heard Braham speak to Ryland. “What you’re doing is cruel.”

“What I’m doing is necessary,” Ryland replied in an indifferent tone. Rook’s arrows met him before he could land any blow on Braham, and his attention snapped back to them. His unnaturally-blue eyes blazed with anger. “Like annoying little flies,” he spat.

Neither Glaw nor Rook said anything in response. The exhaustion saturating the air was palpable, oozing from all parties. They began the dance anew, sprays of melting snow coming up from their muddied boots as they side-stepped, dodged, parried, lunged. At some point, Rook had switched her bow for twin daggers. Her dark face was twisted in concentration. Ryland kited them, and somewhere along the way, he had picked up a limp from some stray blow. As they neared the totem again, Braham joined the fray, only slightly more lively than Glaw or Rook. A sneer contorted Ryland’s muzzle as he knocked aside a heavy stroke from Braham. “Maybe if you stopped whining about yourself, you’d actually be someone worth fighting.”

Braham seethed. “You entitled bastard...”

Glaw’s step faltered as Owl’s voice, nary more than a whisper at this point, drifted to meet their ears. “Don’t stop now–he’s winning.”

“If I force a break–” Braham stumbled back from a sweep of Ryland’s sword, his attention divided between Jormag’s champion and Owl. “—I won’t be able to control the backlash!”

“Free me. It’s the only way.” A great fatigue painted Owl’s tone. “The Wild together can direct the fall. You are the harness, Norn of Prophecy. Tell them.”

Braham screwed up his face, looking between Ryland and where Owl was pinned. With a yell, he raised his mace and brought it down on the Spirit’s bindings. A blast rang through the molding shrine. It buffeted Glaw back a few steps, and he watched as Rook and Ryland staggered as well. Glaw’s eyes widened as Owl burst free with a shrill cry–for once triumphant rather than pained–and all of the air in the shrine seemed to follow her ascent as she disappeared in a burst of blinding light.

Glaw dragged in a few ragged breaths and levered his sword once more, but Ryland was backing away from them. A look of nettled defeat held his expression in a vice. “Just stop,” he spat, “You’ve released Owl. Take the win and go home.” He pulled up a lip to reveal a blackened fang, a ghost of a smirk. “We still have three more corrupted spirits we can leverage. Might take longer, but we’ll get there. Soon, Jormag will be strong enough to face Primordus head on–and win. I’ll see you in the world that comes after.”

Before any of them could get in a word of protest, a rift opened behind Ryland, and he disappeared. Glaw let his sword dip into the snow as the extent of his exhaustion made itself known in his limbs.

“Owl’s actually gone... for good.” Braham’s hollow words filled the void in the air.

“Willing to sacrifice herself. Again.” Kasmeer joined their small group, the Claw and a handful of remaining vanguard soldiers trailing her. “Shouldn’t be in vain.”

“I opened the gate under Jormag’s ice citadel. That’s what brought Owl back. Made her vulnerable.” Glaw remembered the elation and fear of realizing Owl was still alive. He swallowed and stared at the frozen ground.

“You aren’t responsible for Ryland–or Jormag,” Rook reminded Braham gently.

“Not their choices, maybe. But I am for mine.”

Glaw bit his lip. He raised his gaze, chewing on his words before he spoke. “What did Owl mean, the Wild together can direct the fall?”

Glaw’s query deepened the lines on Braham’s face, and he instantly regretted asking them. “I don’t know,” Braham murmured in a hushed tone. His volume picked up alongside the frustration in his voice. “Why can I sense destroyers? What does Owl’s message mean? How do we fight two Elder Dragons at once?”

“Calm down, Braham,” Rook, ever the level head, chimed. “We’ll figure it out together–we always do.”

“Together, yeah.” Something turned in Glaw’s stomach at the disbelief on Braham’s breath. He murmured another string of words, too quiet for Glaw to hear, and his expression shifted. Settled like stone. It only heightened the unease squirming in Glaw’s gut. Setting his lips in a thin line, he put a hand on Braham’s arm and walked alongside him out of the old shrine.

During the ride back to the Eye of the North, Glaw kept himself pressed next to Braham, always with some point of contact. If it garnered any looks from Rook or Kas, he found he didn’t care. The pang of malaise never left him, unable to shake the chill no matter how warm and alive Braham felt under his fingertips. No one spoke on the journey, as if uttering a word might break whatever gentle respite they found themselves in. That it might kick the next cog into motion.

Once they reached the Eye of the North, Rook and Kas drifted away like water, exchanging quiet promises to keep each other updated. Glaw tailed Braham as he started towards the central chamber like a norn on a mission.

They were in the antechamber by the time Glaw caught up. “Braham–Braham, wait!” He ignored the flutter in his chest when Braham actually stopped and turned. “Where are you going?”

A shadow darkened Braham’s face, and he glanced towards the chamber where Aurene rested. “I wanted to ask Aurene some things.”

“Can’t it wait? Until tomorrow at least.” Surely Braham was as drained as Glaw, if not more.

That dreadful expression was back. Glaw wanted desperately to smooth the lines of worry beneath his thumb. He settled for grasping Braham’s forearms; his sprained wrist twinged as he tightened his grip. The pale green of Braham’s eyes softened. “What if Jormag attacks tomorrow? Or even tonight? Or Primordus? I think–I think I have an idea about why I can sense the destroyers.”

Glaw grimaced. “You heard Ryland; it will take Jormag a while to wrangle the other spirits. But–” he sighed, “what about the destroyers? I thought you said you didn’t sense them back on the mission.”

“I didn’t, but Owl’s words made me realize something.” Braham paused. There was silence as he mulled over his thoughts. A swallow, then: “I think I’m meant to wake Primordus."

“No.”

“Glaw–”

“No! How did you get that from Owl’s words?” Glaw broke away from his grasp, running his good hand through his tangled hair. “Braham, that’s ridiculous. That’s–that’s... suicide."

“Owl called me the harness; we’re going to need power, lots of power, to bring down Jormag. If I can harness the Spirits of the Wild and channel it to wake Primordus, then that’s a hell of a lot of power and a whole Elder Dragon to boot. More than enough to bring down Jormag,” Braham said in a rush before Glaw could interrupt, “and maybe, I don’t know, I’d even be able to help take down Primordus too. Why else would I be able to sense the destroyers?”

Glaw’s fingers caught in his hair, and he clenched his corrupted fist. He brandished the icy limb in Braham’s face, expression tightening as the sprain in his joint throbbed in protest. “This is what happens to people like us who try to harness that power. You’ve seen what happened to Ryland and Bangar. What almost happened to me. We don’t win from it; we get fucked up. You can’t do that to yourself Braham, ability to sense destroyers or not.”

Silence stretched between them, and Glaw’s heart leapt into his throat as Braham slowly took his raised hand. Gentle, calloused palms encircled around his own icy one, and the tell-tale sting of tears wet the corners of Glaw’s eyes. He allowed Braham to close the distance between them and hold Glaw gently against his chest. “Promise me you won’t do anything stupid,” he muttered into the other’s skin, Braham’s warmth dampened by his tears.

Braham’s voice rumbled in his ears. “Nothing stupid. I promise.”

Glaw was pulled roughly from her dreams the next dawn. She tossed a bleary good morning to Frigg as she extracted herself from her small sleeping nook. Something in the air felt... off. Glaw danced aside as an asura weaved past her, muttering to themself. Squinting after the small being, Glaw made her way to the central chamber. In it, she found Rook talking with Aurene. The dark look on Rook’s face and the way Aurene worried the stone underfoot with her claws exemplified the feeling blossoming in her chest like a rotten bloom. “What’s wrong?”

“What happened?” he asked. Since the Commander had left, two emotions had warred in his chest: one self-righteous in the fact that he had been right about Jormag and the inevitable betrayal, and the other a gnawing worry as to what it meant now that Jormag had played their true hand and was no longer aiding them with Primordus.

“Ryland was attacking the people of Lake Doric. Encasing them in ice.” Glaw digested the information as the worry overcame the vindication. He swallowed. “Did you manage to stop him?” The look Rook leveled on Glaw hollowed him to the bone, and he broke the stare with the haunted amber gaze.

“Not soon enough,” was all Rook muttered. Glaw followed her into the central chamber, where they were met by Braham. He looked almost as harrowed as Rook.

“Commander, something is wrong. Really wrong.”

Rook glanced at Aurene. She released a heavy sigh. “I know. The ice dragon has shown their true colors.”

“Not only that. There’s a cry coming from near one of the kodan’s settlements. I just--” Braham broke off with a frustrated sound. “I need to be there.” His gaze flicked between Rook and Glaw. “And I think you do, too.”

The village’s Claw met them as they landed, and Kasmeer stood beside her. “Kas!” Rook greeted, “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

Kas shrugged and glanced at the Claw. “Heard about Lake Doric on my way back from Ebonhawke. Figured I’d spread the word to potential allies.”

The Claw rumbled and crossed her arms. “Without her warning, more would have fallen to agents of Jormag. Our sanctuary is open to all in need of refuge. When the enemy comes, we’ll be ready.”

A clamoring drew their attention to the village’s gate. “Icebrood on the path!” The cry went up, echoing throughout the village.

“Looks like the enemy is already here,” Rook said, drawing her bow. “Glaw, help the warriors get the young ones to safety. Kas, you and I will secure the path. Braham--” Braham was already on the move, nearly out of the village by the time Rook noticed. “Braham!” Rook sighed as her call went unheeded. “We’ll catch up with him later.”

Glaw split off from Kas and the Commander, his gaze lingering on the village gate for a moment. He tore his eyes away and started down the icy slope deeper into the village. A few of the icebrood were scaling the walls, and the warriors were doing their best to beat them back. Their weapons did little more than annoy the corrupted beasts, though, but the icebrood skittered away warily as torches were thrust in their faces.

A squeal grabbed Glaw’s attention, and he spied a kodan cub turning frantically in the slushy snow, separated from their family. He cursed under his breath and started towards the little one. The kid regarded him with watery, scared eyes, scrambling back as the firelight glinted off Glaw’s icy arm. Glaw paused in his step.

“Hey, I’m not here to hurt you. I’m not one of them,” he reassured. The words were a paltry band aid to slap over the gleaming brand of corruption on his right side. “Look-” He was grasping at straws before an idea struck him. Lowering himself into a crouch, Glaw extended his corrupted hand. He tried to ignore the ache in his chest as the kodan cub flinched back. 

An itch began beneath the icy surface as he coaxed a small flame to burn along the frozen fingertips. He couldn’t maintain the magic for long, and he shook his tingling hand as it winked out. “Think an icebrood could do that?” He gave the kid a strained grin.

It was a painfully-slow few seconds before the kid finally shook their head.

“Besides,” Glaw continued, “I know the Commander. You know who the Commander is, right?” The kid’s expression brightened, and they nodded enthusiastically now. “Well, the Commander gave me a-- uh, quest.” Glaw could see the kodan cub’s interest growing; they took a minute step towards Glaw. “Do you want to help with the quest?”

The little kodan gave one last small nod, nearly at Glaw’s knees now. They reached their arms towards Glaw, and he rocked back on his heels a bit. “Ah--” He waffled for a moment, sending furtive glances up and down the small alley he found himself in. Distantly, he could still hear the sounds of fighting, but there were no allies in sight.

With a sigh, Glaw picked up the kodan cub. As soon as the kid was in his arms, he shifted them to his left hip. The kid still seemed wary of his icy arm, squirming a bit as he used it to gather them up.

“Now--” Glaw edged to the end of the alleyway and peered around the corner of the kodan house. He drew back as he spied an icebrood slinking through the shadows farther up the street. “My... quest is to find, uh, your parents. Do you know where they are?”

The little kodan blinked at Glaw with wide, dark eyes. Glaw resisted the urge to sigh again. “Do you have a name, kid?”

The cub hesitated, their face half buried in Glaw’s shoulder so that when they did speak, Glaw almost lost the words to the wind. “Gentle Snow.”

“That's a nice name.” Panic began to settle into Glaw’s chest now. He won’t be able to fight much with Gentle Snow on his hip, and the kid wasn’t being chatty. He spared another glance out of the alley. The icebrood had disappeared from view, but that thought doesn’t soothe Glaw’s nerves much. He stepped slowly from his hiding place. No one gave a cry of alarm, nor did any angry icebrood bear down on him; he took that as a good sign. He started the way opposite of the icebrood. Gentle Snow shifted, and Glaw almost dropped them from his one-armed grasp.

“You!”

Glaw almost gave himself whiplash as he whirled to face the speaker. The icebrood was back and had definitely spotted him. “Shit,” Glaw hissed. The icebrood bellowed, and Glaw broke into a run. His feet nearly slipped from beneath him, and Gentle Snow wailed as his grip on them faltered. “Hold on, kid,” Glaw said between clenched teeth. Gentle Snow’s claws dug into Glaw’s arm, and he suppressed a wince.

The icebrood gave chase, easily gaining on them without a kodan cub burdened them. A gasp escaped Glaw as he felt the waft of cold steel almost kiss his back. Too close. He turned abruptly around a house, nearly slipping again. The icebrood did slip. Glaw took the opportunity, muttering a thanks to the Spirits as he brought his hand up in a claw-like motion. Earth crawled over the fallen icebrood, who howled in fury as they found their boots melded to the frozen ground by rocks and icy dirt.

Glaw swallowed and held Gentle Snow closer to him. He turned away from the trapped enemy and continued on. He followed the sounds of voices--kodan voices--and they led him to a kodan warrior directing the village’s inhabitants towards higher ground away from the icebrood. Glaw felt like crying in relief. He settled for a huff instead and plodded towards the group. The warrior eyed him warily, but the guarded look fell when she saw Gentle Snow half asleep against Glaw.

“I don’t know where their parent’s are,” Glaw told the warrior as she took Gentle Snow from him.

“Don’t worry,” the warrior rumbled, “I will find them.” A pause, and then, “Thank you.” The kodan bowed her head to Glaw. Glaw returned it, unable to rouse his tongue, and he backed away from the cluster of kodan. He gazed around.

The turmoil in the village was winding down, but Glaw could pick out the fallen forms of kodan, quaggan, and icebrood alike. He started as his comm crackled to life. Kas’ voice rang through the line.

‘Is it just me, or did this feel like a distraction? Like, not the main event.’

Rook joined the line. ‘Braham called during the attack; he said there was something else going on outside the kodan walls.’ A voice grumbled in the background, and Rook replied in return, not clear enough to be heard over the comms. ‘Glaw, are you there?’ she said intelligibly once more.

“Yeah.” Glaw felt a little ridiculous speaking into the hand-held device, but the others’ voices were coming from it, so it couldn’t be that strange. He spared a glance towards the kodan still filtering out of the camp. “All clear over here.”

‘Any trouble?’

“Not... much,” Glaw hedged. “I’ll meet you by the gate?”

‘We’ll be waiting.’

Glaw clicked off the comm and roused his feet into action. He had been enjoying the warmer locations, he now realized. For once, he felt the chill, and his boots were heavy with snow. A shiver slithered down his spine. As he made his way towards the village gates, Glaw longed for the fur-lined armor that had once protected him from the biting winds.

Kas and Rook were deep in conversation with the Claw when Glaw reached them. Their voices tapered out, and Rook gave Glaw a once over. Glaw caught her gaze, expression inquiring, but whatever thoughts Rook had, she didn’t give tongue to them. Instead, she followed the Claw as the kodan led them out of the village.

They were a few minutes down the path when Braham spoke through the comm. ‘Commander? Getting close to Song of Exile.’ A small bud of relief formed in Glaw’s chest as he heard Braham’s voice.

“We’ll meet you on the path, Braham. We have some friends.”

‘Kodan?’

“Some of Kas’ Ebon Vanguard friends.”

“Well, I--” Braham began. Glaw punched him lightly in the arm. “Hey! That was a leading question.”

With a snort, Glaw leaned against the railing. The asuran gate in the distance fluctuated, and Glaw watched as a figure emerged from the undulating purple. They knew that silhouette. “Is that the Commander?”

Rook greeted the pair as they crossed the forum to meet her. “Braham, Glaw. I didn’t realize you two were still out this way.”

Glaw shared a glance with Braham. “Taimi put us to work helping the scientists. This place has been bleeding destroyers left and right,” Braham explained.

“Most of the portals in the city have been closed. Can’t afford destroyers getting into the heart of the city,” Glaw added, “It’s been a long week.”

“Have either of you spoken to Taimi recently?”

“No, why?” The three of them paused outside the Hydrone Unit.

“Taimi called earlier, saying there was a signal beneath Metrica Province that was steadily getting stronger. I came over to help with evacuation efforts,” Rook said. She paused for a moment, squinting up at Glaw. “I like the haircut.”

“We could use all the help we can get, Commander. Have you ever tried to herd asura?” Braham’s tone betrayed his exasperation. Glaw hummed in agreement. Most of the asura they had had to cajole to leave their projects behind and find safety in the city had been civil, if not a bit rude, but there were one or two who had definitely tried to bite Glaw. One had succeeded until Braham had threatened to smash their hydro gun.

“I believe it will be a first,” Rook murmured. She was the first one into the Hydrone Unit, and she clapped her hands to get the attention of the asura inside. “We’ve got destroyers incoming! Time to evacuate. Everyone, get to the city!”

The asura grumbled, but most of them filed out with minimal complaints, many with machines and spare parts tucked under their arms or being toted along by golems. A few lingered, claiming they would be fine; they had security built into the lab. With a sigh, Glaw looked at Braham.

“Are you sure we can’t just leave them here?” They weren’t serious. Not... fully. But they had yet to meet another race that was as ornery and stubborn as the asura, save for maybe norn themselves.

Braham quirked his lip up in a half smile. “I think the Commander would have some strong words against that.” Another ten minutes passed before they managed to convince the last asura to leave. She went but not without a mouthful of foul language tossed over her shoulder at their trio.

“Right,” Rook said, dusting off her hands, “Taimi said she was out at the Hinterlabs. Shall we?”

Glaw wasn’t sure what to make of Taimi. She had introduced herself to Glaw as Braham’s best friend, and Braham seemed fiercely protective of her in turn. And as with any sibling relationship, they constantly annoyed each other. Glaw had witnessed the pint-sized asura fall into a full fit of yelling at Braham when he had accidentally broken a knob off of a machine, but in the same breath, she thanked him for keeping her lab free of destroyers. The large golem that dogged her every step was as equally intimidating as Taimi’s temper.

“Great, you’re all here!” Glaw heard Taimi before they saw her. She loaded herself into her golem and began to parse through things scattered around the lab. “We have a perfect sized-force to head into the caverns.”

“An expedition? At a time like this?” Rook sounded doubtful.

“Half these folks will guard the portal and help with the evacuation. Besides, this is the perfect time to go collect some rare data!” Taimi stopped in front of them. “All ready to go?”

Sighing, Rook waved a hand towards the caverns. “Let’s head out.” The four of them and a small collection of asuran peacekeepers ascended the slope up to the grotto that delved down beneath Rata Sum. From the mouth of the cave, Glaw spied a few destroyers milling around. They grimaced. Hopefully this venture would end without the need for another haircut.

“So what’s down here that’s so important?” Braham’s voice echoed strangely off the pockmarked walls.

“There’s a signal coming from deeper in the caves. I’ve not been able to duplicate it successfully in the lab. Ryland and Jormag are waiting on my analysis--my findings could help kill the fire dragon.”

“You’re okay with this alliance?” An incredulous note entered Braham’s tone. Glaw side-eyed him.

“If it means stopping Primordus... yeah,” Taimi replied. “You’re not?”

“An Elder Dragon is an Elder Dragon, Taimi. Jormag can’t be taken lightly.”

“I’m not taking it lightly,” Taimi soothed, “but Jormag’s not the one pinging my instruments. Primordus is. And at least Jormag can be reasoned with.”

“Have you ever tried to reason with an icebrood? They’re not big on talking,” Braham countered.

“What about the Svanir?” Glaw wrinkled their nose. They turned their attention away from the conversation, not wanting to hear the asura’s defense of the Sons of Svanir. They joined Rook who was trailing at the back of the group, picking off any destroyers who tried to stray too close.

“Got tired of the bickering?” she assumed as she fired off another arrow.

Glaw hummed. “Are they always like this?”

“Not usually, actually. I think they’re both just... worried. They come from similar backgrounds, so they do have a tendency to butt heads.”

“Similar backgrounds?”

Rook sighed. “Taimi was a brilliant progeny. She’s always had the pressure of living up to greatness. Braham is the son of Eir Stegalkin who is arguably the most famed norn in the modern age, and he’s always tried to measure himself by that standard. Both grew up with the expectation that they would be able to fix everything.”

Glaw looked back at the two who were still locked in debate. They broke off for a moment to crush a few bursters who had the misfortune of trying to attack them. As soon as the destroyers were dead, they were back at it again. “And who do you agree with?”

Rook considered the question. “Jormag is dangerous, and we shouldn’t trust anything they promise,” she began carefully, “but Primordus is the active threat at the moment, and Jormag is one of the few beings in Tyria capable of countering him.”

“I think Ryland’s planning something else,” Glaw admitted. They had known Jormag too long to believe the Dragon would suddenly play along after months of attempting to kill all of them.

“So do I,” Rook agreed as she joined Taimi and Braham at the front of the escort as they came to a halt. Glaw swept their gaze across the cavernous walls before following the Commander.

“This is the spot,” Taimi was saying as they approached, “Strongest readings yet.” She let her machine run, turning to Braham once more. “Look Braham, I get where you’re coming from. I do. But even if Jormag is lying, the data isn’t. Jormag isn’t the one who’s currently burning our world, killing our people, and destroying our homes. Primordus is.”

A look of hurt flickered across Braham’s face. “Jormag terrorized the norn. Made us run--remember? Run or die.”

Glaw couldn’t read Taimi’s expression from inside her golem, but her words relayed her anger. “But you’re still there, in the mountains and the snow. We had to abandon everything, and we’re not the only ones.”

“Jormag--” Braham started.

“Isn’t. Threatening. You!” Taimi exploded. Braham pulled away. “That is.” She pointed to a large destroyer roaming the cave they entered through.

Braham was silent after her outburst. He set his jaw and drew his mace, eyeing the large molten beast. Glaw huffed and unsheathed their own weapon. They followed Braham, listening as Rook urged Taimi to gather her data faster.

“You alright?” Glaw asked as they squared off with the massive destroyer. Braham’s mace slamming into its carapace was answer enough.

“Fine,” he grunted. Glaw wasn’t going to get anything else out of him, they knew. They swallowed some of their own ire they felt at Taimi’s tirade and got to work crippling the destroyer. It was easiest to deal with them, they had found, when they no longer had any of their legs to evade you with.

The creature shrieked as the steel of Glaw’s sword sliced through the ligaments of its jointed leg. The limb fell severed and twitching to the ground. One down, one to go. The beast toppled slightly before catching itself on its dagger-like arm. It swiped at Glaw with its free arm. The acrid taste of smoke hit the back of Glaw’s throat, a little too close for comfort. They muttered a curse and lurched out of the destroyer’s reach. Braham was making short work of the thick shell, and Rook and a few of the peacekeepers joined the fray.

It wasn’t long before the creature was on its knees. With a roar, Braham brought his mace down one last time onto its head. The carapace crumpled inwards, and the destroyer tied with a fizzing whine.

The tension eased out of the air, but when Glaw looked to Braham, they found him still standing beside the destroyer, mace in hand. “Everything okay?” they asked as they neared.

“Yeah,” Braham breathed, sounding distant. “I just... it was like I could feel it for a moment. I knew where it was going to be.”

Glaw glanced between Braham and the corpse. “The destroyer?” Braham nodded. “How?”

Braham heaved a breath. He met Glaw’s eyes, and their heart constricted in their chest at the lost look on his face. “I don’t know. I don’t know what’s going on with me.”

“Glaw!” Aurene chastised sharply. Glaw jerked back as if scalded by their own magic and released their hold on the cage. Shame burned their cheeks, and they lowered their head. They began to walk away from the cage when a croaking voice rasped out of Bangar’s throat: not Jormag’s, but his own.

“If you are the same as me, norn, then you would know just as well that I… didn’t have much of a choice, did I? Not against the whispers.” Bangar said softly.

Glaw paused in their step. They looked up as Rook, Braham, and Rytlock entered the chamber, chatting between each other. The trio’s conversation halted when they spied Glaw at the foot of Bangar’s cage. Glaw threw a glance at Bangar. “We’re not the same,” they finally retorted, “I chose to stop listening.” Glaw turned away and joined the other three at the edge of the scrying pool.

“What was that about?” Braham whispered once they stood beside him.

Glaw shook their head. “Nothing important.”

“Something’s coming,” Aurene said, looking far more worried than Glaw had ever seen the crystal Elder Dragon. “And not just Jormag. Something else… have you felt it?”

“There’s reports of earthquakes all over Tyria,” Rook replied.

Braham spared a glance at Bangar’s cage. “That thing’s awfully close, isn’t it? Won’t Jormag hear us?”

Aurene shook her massive head. “They cannot hear anything unless I let them hear it. We are safe to speak freely.”

“Now might be the time, though,” Rook said, “Braham has some things to work through.”

Bangar broke in with a raspy cough and a growl. “You think Jormag’s going to tell you anything you don’t already know--?” He broke off, grasping at his throat, and when he straightened, Glaw knew it was as Jormag instead of the former imperator.

“Ah, Aurene… amassing warriors, are you? They won’t be any use, I’m afraid.”

Rook stepped forward. “You mean against the earthquakes.”

Jormag clicked their tongue. “My brother is… not the best at subtlety. He stirs, and when he awakens, it will not be with the same grace as I.”

“Grace? You call corrupting Spirits and killing hundreds grace?” Braham cut in, incensed.

Jormag seemed nonplussed. “I have a will to live. If that is a crime, then none of us are innocent. Least of all you, Commander.”

“I never claimed as such,” Rook said curtly.

Jormag hummed. “You will never reach your full potential surrounding yourself with the likes of these, Aurene. Oath breakers, cowards, and hypocrites… you are much better than this. And reach your potential you must, for the sake of all of Tyria. The time has come to end Primordus.”

“I can’t,” Aurene protested, “The balance must be maintained--”

“The balance--” Jormag began hotly, losing some of their cool. They stopped and collected themself. “The ‘balance’ is nothing but a fantasy. Primordus will ruin this world. And your little ragtag group is not ready. You need me. Only with my help will Primordus be stopped.”

The chamber fell into silence with Jormag’s declaration as everybody digested the ice dragon’s ominous words. The crackling of the comms broke the quiet.

‘Uh, Commander, you’re not busy right now, are you?’

“Taimi?” Rook answered. She shared a glance with their small group. “I mean--What is it?”

‘So we’ve been keeping an eye on the Mist rifts and leylines, like you asked, and there’s been no sight of Jormag, but well… It’d just be easier to show you the data. How fast can you get to Rata Sum?’

Rook sighed. “We’ll be right there, Taimi.” She clicked the comm off. “Let’s go see what Taimi’s got for us.”

Glaw’s first time travelling through an asuran gate was an… interesting experience. They stumbled as they were spit out onto the stone streets of Rata Sum, and their head spun as they straightened. The strange view of the new city didn’t help their vertigo, either. The bustling streets were crowded with very small figures that reminded Glaw of a runty, bipedal rabbit. They blinked as one of the small figures cursed them out, weaving between their legs with ease.

Beside them, Braham laughed under his breath. “They’re asura,” he explained.

“They’re so small,” Glaw commented, mystified.

“Don’t let them hear you say that. Their egos are bigger than they are,” Rook said as she stepped free of the portal, “And they will bite.” Rook gave Glaw an easy grin and patted their arm as she passed. Glaw snapped their mouth shut, unable to tell if Rook was pulling their leg or not. They decided not to risk it and didn’t speak a word to any of the asura that eyed them as Rook led them through the crowded, intricate streets.

Rook finally stopped beside one of the small creatures. The asura was one of the taller of his species, with a shock of mussed blond hair and square-framed glasses. Rook spoke to him as if they were old friends. “Everything okay, Gorrik?”

Gorrik sighed. “Apparently, the Arcane Council thinks the sanctity of independent research is superseded by other priorities. Nothing to worry about. Taimi’s out at the Advanced Metamystics Lab. I’ll get you over to the portal.” He talked as he walked, leading them deeper into the city. Glaw caught a calculating indigo eye for a second, and it lingered on their corrupted arm before he returned his attention back to Rook. “Picking up new friends, are you?”

Rook glanced back at Glaw. “They’re a good person,” Rook reassured Gorrik, and Glaw couldn’t push back the blossoming heat that painted their cheeks red. They ducked their head. “I actually wanted to talk to you about them later,” Rook continued, almost out of the range of Glaw’s hearing. Whatever she said next was cut off as she and Gorrik stepped confidently through the next portal. Glaw balked a bit until they were the last one standing at the portal’s landing platform. Sighing under their breath, they stepped through the swirling purple gate.

“Tell me I’m not seeing Frost Legion.” Rytlock’s annoyed growl was the first thing they heard as they broke free of the portal. Glaw blinked off the remaining vertigo, and their heart sank as Rytlock’s words rang true. Stood beside more gathered asura was an icy Ryland and a smattering of other corrupted charr.

“The Arcane Council invited them and Ryland,” Gorrik chimed as he led them up to the others.

“You could have led with that,” Rook said, exasperated. She greeted one of the asura who introduced herself as Councilor Zudo. “Do you have any idea who you’ve let in here? What he’s done?”

The councilwoman shrugged. “Ryland Steelcatcher, Champion of Jormag. He is the commander of the ice dragon’s forces.”

Another asura, whom Glaw assumed was also a council member, added, “The Arcane Council does not deal with matters of the past. What’s done is done, and Jormag is awake--” 

“Yeah, because of him,” Braham grouched.

The councilor fixed Braham with a disapproving glare at the interruption. “--which means Primordus will not be far behind. When facing a common enemy, an alliance is the most logical course of action.”

“The asura have studied Primordus for ages. It would be foolish not to seek out their knowledge, and Jormag is no fool,” Ryland spoke up for the first time since their arrival. “Jormag and I keep our word. When Primordus rises, we will wipe him from existence.”

“And what happens after Primordus is dead? That’s a hell of a power vacuum he’ll leave behind. One Jormag will fill, I presume?”

Ryland merely blinked blithely at Rook’s statement. “As Jormag told you, all they want to do is live. Primordus is threatening everything now. The fallout can be… dealt with later.”

“I’m sure it can…” Rook muttered.

“Hey, since we’re playing nice, how about you return my bow? You know, the one you stole.” Braham’s voice cut in over Rook’s muttering. Ryland pulled a sour face.

“Now why would I hand over the weapon that you think can harm Jormag? ‘Act first, think later,’ right?” He drawled. “But don’t worry, I’ll keep it safe for you.”

Under his breath, Glaw heard Braham mutter, “Oh, I’m getting it back.”

Glaw snorted as Rook jumped in between the conversation that was obviously gearing up towards a fight. “Braham! Why don’t you go help Gorrik with his delivery at the docks. We have it handled here.”

Braham fixed a glare on Ryland. “Sure thing, Commander.” He stalked away, following Gorrik as the asura led him away, chattering on. Glaw watched him go, half wanting to follow. Something stayed their steps, however. They turned back to the others as the tension eased out of the air. The group was moving to enter the lab building, and Glaw hurried to catch up.

Before they could enter, Rook caught them by the arm. “Would you actually mind staying out here, Glaw?”

A pang of hurt lanced through Glaw’s chest at the implications, and they drew back. Their expression must have betrayed their thoughts, because Rook rushed to explain herself. “Nothing like that. Something is… off. I’d feel better with someone on our side staying out here in the open where they can keep an eye on things. Raise the alarm if you see anything suspicious.”

Glaw let their hackles fall. “Of course, Commander. You don’t think Jormag would try anything here, would you?”

Rook surveyed their surroundings, suspicion clear in her gaze. “At this point, I’m not sure what to expect,” she admitted honestly. “Hopefully this won’t take long.” Rook gave Glaw a warm smile and made her way into the lab building. Glaw puffed out a breath and reclined against the side of the building.

The climate of Rata Sum was unlike any they had previously encountered -- at least post-Jormag amnesia. Even the forests of the Woodland Cascades hadn’t been this oppressive. The humidity in the air clung to them, and the midday sun beat down with the intent to burn their pale skin. Glaw grumbled and pulled their collar up to better cover their neck. Braham and Bryn would never let them live it down if they came back from Rata Sum with a sunburn.

They extended their left hand in front of them and let a small fire dance across their palm. They were getting better at controlling the new element, but calling upon it still made their corrupted arm itch like mad if they let it go for too long. The flame licked at the warm air, and Glaw snuffed it out with a roll of their hand. They extended it again and spread their fingers. This time, they focused on the anxious buzz roiling in their chest, and they called back to the frustration they had felt earlier at Bangar’s cage. A few arcs of electricity fizzed between their fingers, and Glaw considered it with curiosity.

A rumbling beneath their feet broke their focus, and the small zaps of lightning disappeared with the faintest scent of ozone. Glaw pushed themself upright and drew their sword as the ground continued to rumble and shake. They had to dance back as less than three feet from them, the ground began to crumble inwards as scaled, smoking legs pulled themselves from the earth.

A strange molten beast finally pulled itself free of the hole, and it clicked and snapped its mandibles at Glaw. Glaw pointed their sword at it, and it hissed in return. Behind it, more fiery creatures began to emerge. Glaw swallowed. “Uh, Commander! We’ve got trouble!” They called over their shoulder into the lab, praying to the Spirits that someone could hear them.

The metal of their sword hissed as it sliced through one of the legs of the first molten creature. The beast lurched back, sputtering and hissing at Glaw. Glaw raised their sword and assumed a fighting stance. The creature held a similar position, limping in the wake of its absent leg. Not that it really needed it -- it still had three other ones. Glaw bared their teeth at the thing, daring it to attack. Its compatriots crawled ever closer, chittering just like the first. Glaw inched back until their heel hit the wall of the lab. They cursed and slashed as the first creature tried to lunge again.

It died with a squealing squelch as Glaw’s blade cleaved it in two. Well, mostly in two. The dark sword got stuck in its carapace, and Glaw had to tug it free. One of the flying molten imps took advantage of their distraction and swooped down. It snagged the shoulder of Glaw’s shirt, and its blazing coal-like talons steamed as they came in contact with the icy shards of Glaw’s corrupted arm. It kept its grip firm, however, and panic began to set in as Glaw felt their feet leave the comforting safety of the ground.

Suddenly, they were thrown back to the ground in a heap. The creature trying to carry them off landed beside their head, an arrow sprouting from its chest.

“Destroyers!”

Glaw breathed a sigh of relief and righted themself as they heard the Commander’s call. They beat back a pair of crab-like destroyers and joined Rook’s side.

“You alright?” She asked as soon as Glaw was within earshot.

Glaw deflected the slashing claw of a bipedal fire creature. “Yeah,” they panted, “what are they?”

“Minions of Primordus. Taimi has been tracking energy spikes, and well…” Rook answered.”

“One was here,” Glaw guessed. Rook hummed in acquiescence.

The last destroyer finally fell with a squabbling cry, and Glaw let their sword drop. They rolled their right shoulder. Thankfully, the flying imp had only scored their icy arm and none of the tender skin, but another one of their shirts was near ruined. They weren’t sure how they were going to explain the burn marks and scalding to the tailor.

Rook’s comm crackled to life with a strangled, ‘Help!’ There was more crackling, and faintly, Glaw could hear Braham urging the asura to hurry.

“Gorrik?” Rook asked, “Braham? Talk to us. What’s happening?”

‘Destroyers on the docks! Could use some back up.’ Braham’s breathless tone was quick to answer.

“I’m on it -- one sec.” A new voice to Glaw’s left, one Glaw found to be coming from a strange upright machine, said, “I’ve programmed the gate to give us a one-way trip to the docks.”

“Let’s go,” Rook said. She led the charge through the asuran gate.

Glaw wasn’t sure if it was their newness to the unorthodox method of travel, or if it was the stench of burning wood, pine pitch, and oil that set their stomach to churning once they landed at the docks. Destroyers were crawling everywhere amidst the fires that littered the field.

Ryland growled, and he turned and slammed the tip of his sword into the ground. Magic split the air, and Frost Legion soldiers began to spill from the rift.

“The hell are you doing?” Rytlock called over the din.

“Don’t need your permission,” Ryland snipped back. He swept an arm out to the swarming destroyers. “Clean this up,” he ordered his soldiers. The Frost Legion charr got to work, hewing through the destroyers like firewood. As much as Glaw loathed the sight of them, they had to admit that they were effective. And deadly.

“There’s no sight of Braham or Gorrik on this side.” Rook said, and Glaw thought they heard a breadth of fear in the Commander’s voice.

“There’s an upper deck,” Ryland called, pointing out a pair of shapes threatening to be overwhelmed by destroyers.

“Burn me,” Rytlock cursed. Glaw echoed him in agreement. They followed Rook up to the upper deck, cutting down any destroyer that strayed within reach of their blade. The fray thinned as the three of them cut through to reach Braham and Gorrik. Glaw locked eyes with Braham over the burning carapace of a destroyer, and they offered him a toothy grin, well aware that there was likely a large streak of soot covering half their face. Braham returned it, albeit tiredly.

Glaw pushed aside the carcass of an imp with their boot and sidled up beside Braham. “Thanks, Braham huffed, “Thought we were going to be roast dinner there for a second.” His mace crunched into the scaly hide of a destroyer, and it hissed as he tugged it free.

“Couldn’t let that happen,” Glaw quipped, unable to keep their grin from growing larger as they pierced the hide of a small, skittering destroyer. They wrinkled their nose as it released a noxious sulfuric gas as it died, and they jumped back with a startled yelp as it erupted into flame.

“Burster,” Braham said sagely from their back. Glaw shot him a glance, and he held it. He had also gained a streak of soot across his nose, and it made the green of his eyes stand out. The corners of his eyes crinkled with mirth, but his expression froze after a beat. “Uh, your hair’s on fire.”

“What,” Glaw said dumbly. They patted vigorously at their head, cursing as the smell of burnt hair met their nose. They beat out the small flame, but the damage was done. Glaw sighed and looked wearily up at Braham.

“Well, it’s certainly a statement,” he joked weakly. Glaw huffed a laugh and looked around. The sounds of battle had died away, and they found that the last of the destroyers were being put down. The still-burning carcasses littered the docks, and the air smelled acrid with smoke.

Glaw and Braham picked their way over to the others. The council members were farther up the dock with wrinkled noses and looks of annoyance on their pinched faces. Rook was mid-conversation with Ryland. “Can’t say I expected you to have our backs,” she said to Ryland.

Ryland curled his lip. “You dying doesn’t help us kill Primordus, Commander.”

“Of course it doesn’t,” Rook sighed. She nodded to Glaw and gave Braham a once-over. “Where did all these destroyers come from?”

Braham shrugged. “One moment, we were checking crates, and the next, they were bubbling up from the water. Never seen…”

Glaw saw it in the same instant Braham did, a massive destroyer beast emerging from the water like Braham described. Rook blinked at Braham’s sudden silence and looked over her shoulder. “By the Dream…” she murmured. They all watched as the beast pulled itself onto the dock and shook off the solidifying rock from its molten skin. The creature let out a bellow and pulled a chunk of burning rock as round as its head free from its chest.

“Shit…” Glaw breathed as the beast let the rock fly free, aimed for their small crowd. Something tugged at Glaw’s core, and they let instinct guide their hands. They bunched their hands into fists and pulled upward. There was a tearing of magic in their chest, and a solid wall of earth coalesced over their group. It shook but held firm as the molten boulder slammed into it. Glaw’s arms shook with the effort of maintaining the shelter as smaller bits of fiery debris rained down after the larger chunk. They finally couldn’t hold it any longer, and the wall came down in a shower of dust that tickled Glaw’s nose and threatened to make them sneeze.

They ignored their companions’ surprised expressions and flexed their stiff fingers. “That’s a new one,” they muttered. Their mysticism at their newfound ability was overshadowed by the massive destroyer belting out another ear-shattering roar.

“What even is that thing?” Rook shouted over the noise. She had an arrow nocked and aimed at the beast, ready to loose it once it got too close.

“Does it matter?” Rytlock replied, “It’s trying to kill us.”

Another sigh escaped Glaw, and they unsheathed their sword once more. Their limbs were beginning to feel like they were weighted with lead, and the last burst of magic had drained them.

The ground shook as the beast lumbered closer. It lobbed a few more molten rocks at them, but none were as large as the first. They were easy enough to dodge, but fatigue was dragging at Glaw’s actions, and one nearly scalded their arm when they reeled out of the way almost too late.

Glaw rolled past the beast’s feet and stabbed their sword through its heel. The molten rock of its body spit as it came in contact with the cooler metal of the blade. The beast began to totter, and it fell as a last arrow pincushioned it alongside the twenty other arrows already pockmarking its hide. Glaw barely had time to free their blade and stumble out of the way before it came crashing down.

With the danger out of the way, the council members and Gorrik descended from their perch. Gorrik circled the still-smoking corpse. “This specimen varies wildly from any recorded archives of destroyers. Also, it’s massive.”

Councilor Zudo poked at the dead creature before pulling her hand back into her robes. She regarded Gorrik. “Spearhead a study on these creatures. Catalogue the evolutionary discrepancies and identify any weaknesses,” she instructed. She gave the corpse a last look before wandering over to where her other colleagues were talking in hushed tones with Ryland.

Glaw watched her through lidded eyes, leaning against their sword. They startled out of their doze when Braham prodded their shoulder. “Hey, you alright?” he asked in a soft tone. Glaw cracked a tired smirk, eyes tracing over the soot and dust streaking Braham’s face. They knew they looked little better. Possibly worse.

“Mm,” Glaw hummed, “I feel like I should be asking you that.” They sheathed their sword and curled into Braham’s lingering touch. They rested their face in the crook of Braham’s neck, sagging against him.

“Oh!” Braham sounded surprised. His voice pitched higher. “You’re cuddly when you’re tired,” he teased.

Glaw’s ears burned, and they buried their face further into his shoulder. “Shut up,” they said. They reluctantly opened their eyes, but they left their head where it was, too comfortable to disturb their positioning. “So what now?”

Braham’s voice rumbled in their ear as he spoke. “I’m gonna stay in Rata Sum for a bit. Keep an eye on things.” There was a pause, then, “You’re welcome to join me.”