Ruinous Return

Lyn woke up in a soft bed. The ceiling above was worked stone. If not for her Duskari vision, she would be blind as the room had no light sources. Looking around, she observed a small bedside table with a cup and pitcher sitting on it and a simple chair with clothes thrown over the backrest. She sat up, wincing in pain, and reached out with her right hand towards the cup. She paused. Someone healed me. She examined the place where her hand had been lopped off and couldn't even see the mark where it was re-knit with magical power. Whoever healed me must be a master, she thought. The healing was impeccable, as good as Trish's healing.

She reached out and grabbed the cup, quaffing down the water, before grabbing the pitcher and chugging that down. The water woke her groggy body up the rest of the way, and she could feel the slight pulse of pain in her extremities. As soon as I get up…gah, this is going to hurt. She slowly turned in bed and stood up – feeling the pain shoot down through her legs as she let out a short yelp from the sudden, jarring agony. Even expecting it didn't help much, and she fell back on the bed.

The door to the room opened, and an ancient, wizened looking Duskari came into the room. Vael – the Duskari who had seemingly saved Lyn – was standing in the doorway behind, spear at the ready. The older Duskari pulled the chair closer, "Now, now." She shook her head, "Don't move. Your mana channels seem to have suffered trauma."

Lyn shifted slightly to allow her to relax her full body on the bed. "Who are you?"

"I am elder Vehenna," she muttered. "One of the three who guide the Conclave of the Fortress."

That puzzled Lyn. We never fought Duskari inside the fortress. The heroes had fought monsters, elementals, magical constructs, and dealt with traps. But no Duskari once they had fought against the army outside. "How long have you been here?"

The woman chuckled, "Since the beginning, young one." The woman hoisted a small bucket and set it on the bed next to her. "Lie back, please. We need to wash you. Can't have bed sores."

Lyn nodded and tried to relax. But she felt her mana core roil, and rolled on her side as she doubled over in pain. The heat continued to build. "Run!" she gasped out.

The elder stood rapidly and ran to the door. Vael entered and pointed a spear at Lyn.

"Get out of the room!" Lyn screamed as she felt the mana boiling over. I have to release it! She held her right arm out and gritted her teeth as she tried to gently open the mana channel, trying to restrict the flow. It was useless, as the moment she even opened the channel, the mana rushed through and blew it wide open again, cascading lava across the room as her mana surged once more.

Vael's eyes went wide in terror as she backed away to the door. The elder let her pass, before moving forward and chanting a spell, "En ethiel an le / thalion min / gorthon I thalion / a bartho han / uin del." A soothing, light-blue bubble appeared around the lava and Lyn's hand.

Lyn tried to force the mana channel shut, and slowly, excruciatingly so – she was able to feel the aperture despite the roiling mana cascading through it. Just like slowly controlling a muscle that she wasn't used to flexing, she tightened the channel until the torrent ceased. She still felt the roiling inside…but she had it under control. Barely. If not for the older woman's spell, the room would have filled up entirely; but it was somehow condensing down the lava. Gravity? Holy hell, that takes a lot of mana to pull off.

Elder Vehenna's spell persisted as the lava cooled. She turned to Lyn and fell prostrate on the floor, "Oh mighty one! You return to us!"

Lyn looked at the woman, confused. "Come again?"

Vael tossed her spear aside and followed Vehenna's lead, "You have returned…that power is unmistakable."

Lyn was about to say something but paused. They think I'm the Demonic Dragon. I could play this to my advantage. Play dumb or pretend…Lyn knew she wasn't a good liar. Playing the amnesiac was the way to go in her mind rather than owning up to the role. "I don't recall being the Demonic Dragon."

Vehenna raised her head and turned to Vael, "Go, tell the other elders to meet me at the council chamber." She bowed her head once more, "Please, oh mighty one, stay still!" She stood up, grabbed Vael's dropped spear, and the two left the room rapidly.

Lyn glanced over at the clothes on the chair that were thankfully unmarred. I'm not going to sit around nude this whole time. She eased her way out of bed, trying to ignore the pain she felt from the mere act of standing up. Just out of curiosity and to confirm her certainty, she dipped her foot into the cooling lava on the floor. Yup. I'm immune to it. I wonder if that makes me immune to all fire. She shook her foot off and dressed in simple garb – a pale, cloth jerkin and pants with a cord to tie everything in place and keep it put. Just having something covering her gave her a feeling of civility. She sat back on the bed and waited, focusing all her willpower on keeping the mana channel shut tight against the boiling within.

She wasn't waiting long, as Vael returned after a minute with an amulet on a chain held in her outstretched grip. "Here, oh mighty one. This should help."

Lyn took the offered amulet and examined it. A single loop of metal that had no seam but was intricately carved with an inscription, with a chain running through it. Reading the inscription, she could tell it was not a mana suppressor like the cages the heroes had used to restrain criminals. This was like a battery that she could divert excess mana into. "Thank you," she said sincerely as she put the amulet on and tucked it under her shirt. The cool metal felt refreshing on her skin, and she felt her mana core simmering, under control. Just like her Scout hero core felt like a calm, contained wind; this destructive flame was now contained. Well, not contained, but it was being diverted. I'll have to dump the mana from this thing probably…every few hours.

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"Please, come with me," Vael said as she offered her arm to help Lyn walk.

"Okay," Lyn replied as she stood up, putting her weight on Vael. This other Duskari was slightly taller than her – maybe by an inch or two – and was very similar in build. Save for her muscles; those were more developed than Lyn's current form. And her skin; having the tell-tale, slight visual texture of body enhancing concoctions. That explains the lighter armor, she thought as she recognized that specific bark-like appearance. Lyn felt giddy, knowing that this body could be hardened. That the Ari were like the other races. I know so little about them, she realized. She had only learned their language because it was the best way to know their battle strategies. Beyond that, and some other basic information…she didn't know much.

Vael led her down a tunnel that had the same architectural style as the rest of the dreaded fortress. How did we not detect this? She thought as they moved deeper into what she imagined was the mountain behind the citadel. They passed by many side-tunnels with various labels for the domicile, kitchens, some type of sally port – she assumed a hidden exit out of this location – and other denotations of function. Their short journey led them to a circular chamber, richly appointed with rugs and cushions.

There were no lights – the same had been true for their whole entire journey, and Lyn's legs gave out as she collapsed in Vael's grip. The woman gently set her down on one of the cushions, and Lyn felt the tell-tale crunch of some type of dried grass as she relaxed on the seat.

In front of her was elder Vehenna, another female elder who looked like her twin with a long braid of hair, and a middle-aged male with deep-set eyes that seemingly bored into Lyn's soul. Eyes that were pale pink. She knew that all Duskari had shades of red eyes, but the paler and less vibrant, the older they were. The man spoke, "I am elder Bhelarm."

The woman she was not familiar with spoke next. Her voice was raspy, "And I am elder Velenna."

"You have the power of the Demonic Dragon within you; the Destroyer mana core," elder Vehenna stated. "And yet, you state you have no memory of your past life."

Lyn nodded, "That seems right."

Elder Bhelarm scoffed, "Agh. She claims to have this power. Where is the proof?"

Vehenna shot him a withering glare, "I saw it with my own eyes!"

"As did I, esteemed elders," Vael said from behind Lyn. Glancing back, she noticed the woman standing at attention, spear held upright.

Velenna nodded, "Our Lord had not been killed since ancient times." Lyn had to bite her tongue to keep from blurting out 'how?'. "I imagine having had so long since his last fall, he – ahem, she – would be confused and out of sorts."

"How can this Duskari be the almighty reborn?" Bhelarm shouted. "The eyes aren't even correct! They're…disgusting!"

Lyn glared at the man. She felt the sizzling, piping, roiling energy in her mana core. She felt the same anger and frustration as she did when she was summoned as a hero. The doubt and dismay at her hero core. She would not let them do the same here. You want proof? "Togo corch ar naur min ganuin / a leithio han sír enni / galad en-du." She felt her mana channel open a tiny bit and was able to direct the flow of mana into her palm at a slow, steady rate – her anger and frustration getting a response from the mana core and enabling stronger control.

A warm, blissful heat spread through her arm and soothed the aching pain as a gout of lava blasted up and into the roof before dripping back down on her, igniting the cushions aflame. This thing responds to anger. But it wasn't like Kory's Berserker core, which grew in power the angrier he got while becoming harder to control. The power was there, and plentiful, but the anger seemed to help direct it within her. I've always been good at focusing my anger. This suits me.

"En ethiel an le / thalion min / togo lin athrad," Vael shouted as a torrent of water shot out from her palm and sizzled against the lava, cooling it to shining, black obsidian.

All three of the elder's jaws dropped. Bhelarm prostrated himself, "Forgive me! I swear, I am your faithful servant forevermore!"

Lyn dismissed the orb. Okay. Keep the façade going. You're the new Destroyer. Act like a ruler. "You are forgiven. Now, I have some questions."

Bhelarm nodded and gestured to Vael, "Fetch us refreshments." He looked at Lyn, "Anything you desire, oh mighty one?"

"What can you tell me about my last death? What exactly happened?"

Vehenna nodded solemnly, "The heroes defeated our Lord – you – in a great battle that shook the fortress. Their leader – the Paragon – struck the final blow of our master."

"Are you serious?!" Lyn blurted out. He took the goddamn credit? James wasn't malicious – she knew that much about him. He was just a fantasy nerd who got the best mana core because he was 'chosen' by some old statue. I'm the one that killed it! Lyn felt anger boiling up in her, and her mana core responded to her anger. She felt it boil up inside before she redirected the mana flow into the object. It glowed with a bright, neon-blue light before fading slightly.

The elders' faces paled in fear, and they flung themselves prone in front of her, "Forgive us!" Bhelarm cried out. "We didn't mean offense!"

Lyn took several deep breaths trying to calm herself. "How many heroes were in the party?"

Vael spoke from behind her, "If I recall correctly, there were ten."

"Describe them," Lyn ordered as she turned to face the terrified younger Duskari.

Vael nodded, "I'll grab the reports!" She ran off, and Lyn sat in a tense silence with the elders still laid prone. A few minutes passed and Vael returned, throwing herself on her knees in front of Lyn and holding up a series of twine-bound, parchment scrolls. "The reports, mighty one."

Lyn grabbed the scroll and pulled the twine off. Damnit. I don't know how to read their language. I only know how to speak it. She cleared her throat, "My recollection of our written language has not returned to me yet. Read it aloud." Treating the Duskari as lessers left a sour taste in her mouth, and brought back the vivid memories of when her father treated her like a lesser being. But she pushed those memories back. I have to keep up the charade. They think I'm the Destroyer, I have to make them keep thinking that.

Vael sat up and nodded, gently and reverently taking the scroll before unrolling it and speaking, "There were ten heroes who entered our Lord – erm, your fortress…" she went on to describe from the report, in detail, the attire, weaponry, equipment, and spells. Whoever was taking those notes from afar had excellent reporting skills.

They got all the descriptions down perfectly; she thought as the vivid language painted a picture in her mind that perfectly matched the gear and demeanor of the other heroes. Nine of them were described in great detail, but the tenth was seemingly a blot. A grey mass that eluded the descriptive detail of the report-taker, as if the person were a placeholder.

Why am I not mentioned?