Hiro's eyes opened to a blizzard, and a flurry of motion as Maggie, Wispy, and Venus were slamming attack after attack into Shenlong, the Silver Dragon, who was dancing through the freezing air gracefully. Each sinuous weave of the dragon's form deflected one attack after another, whether it was Wind, Lightning, Light, or Fire.

  More importantly, Shenlong was taking the whole thing in stride and giving tips.

  Venus, your form is good, but be less timid, small hunter of evil. Shenlong kindly asked of the fulgent feline. Your teeth are as much a weapon as your claws. To use them will not make you like the being that hurt you so.

  "Luxleopard!" it cried.

  "Yeah, you show him!" Sylphie - or rather, one Sylphie - cried, as she lunged at the Dragon, her greatsword cloaked in deep darkness as she tried and failed to spear the massive Legendary. "Venus, I believed in you from the moment I found you!"

  The other, more normal Sylphie nodded. "What I said. Venus, you're a great friend, and a great fighter. Believe in the me...or we?...who believe in you!"

  Hiro snorted. He'd seen that anime, and got the reference. Seems Sylphie is secretly a woman of culture!

  Hiro pulled out two capture capsules. "Lord Shenlong, do you have enough on your hands, or do you want some more?"

  The Dragon laughed hearty laugh yet again; it was almost pants-darkening. By all means, add Flubber, Marnie, and Katori to the mix. I haven't had such a delightful brawl in centuries!

  Hiro sighed. "You're just as bad as Ondun, you know that?" He sent out his Mons. "Join in, apparently he's giving tips out."

  All of his Mons charged, except Flubber, who instead impersonated Shenlong. The Dragon's eyes narrowed. Now this will be fun!

  "Hey. Aenora. Wake up. Ondun made you some supper again. It's going to be cold!"

  Aenora's eyes lifted slowly, then much more quickly as she took in shelf after shelf of books. "Mmm...I had a dream. I went to another world to save Ondun." She carefully pried a bit of sleep from her eyes, before looking down at a book that was open: On Interdimensional Mechanics, by Archmagius Timothe Enshandeur.

  Odd. I don't ever remember reading this... she absently picked up a small sandwhich and bit into it as she began taking in some unusual details about teleportation between sheafs of reality. Some of this is pretty basic, the Sorceress mused. After all, shifting oneself into the Riversoul is how Displace works. The issue, as Sid and I learned the hard way, is getting out.

  "This is actually quite good...never have I had anything like this." Aenora said. "What is this called?"

  "Ondun said it's a 'Hot Dog'. It's apparently a Monastrian delicacy," her small Talden friend, Cyria Iria said kindly. "Also, hot dogs are for the dining halls, not the library." she added with no small amusement.

  Aenora grinned and got up. She was wearing some more traditional robes, and not her traveling gear. I could've sworn I was just on a cold mountain. She looked outside, and saw that the sky was red.

  "Cyria...why is the sky red?" she asked cautiously.

  The Talden woman sighed. "You have spent too long in the books. Remember? You and Ondun chose to stop fighting. The violence got to him...and it was getting to you." The small woman strode to the windows. "None can blame you...but the Grand Calamity has basically made this one of the last safe places on Arcanis. If not for Ondun's Mons, we wouldn't be able to get food."

  Aenora tapped her chin, trying and failing to remember. "Wait. What Grand Calamity is this? Surely I would remember such a thing? Also...why do I get the feeling you shouldn't be here?"

  Cyria's eyes wettened. "How could you say such a thing!?" Aenora's eyes narrowed.

  "I remember no Grand Calamity, but I do remember Ondun setting out for the Allemandian Tower to find a possible lead on why the Knowing Circle wouldn't awaken from their slumber. I find it impossible to believe I would just sit here in the library back on the Aeneid Isles and read as the world died about me. More to the point...you were among the sleepers. Something is not right about all of this."

  Everything stopped in its tracks. The lights of the various candles stopped flickering. The crimson, ruined skies stopped roiling. The small noises that lived in even the quietest spaces stopped.

  "Cyria" sighed. "I suppose it was too much to ask to give someone so intelligent...not to mention, neurodivergent...a hidden test of character. Your mind is a fascinating one; never have I listened to such a unique place." The Talden avatar...of Shenlong! Aenora happily filled in, stepped beside her and leapt onto a chair, before sitting down, legs crossed.

  "So. Shenlong. What did you want to know about me, anyways? Perhaps a direct question would be better than obfuscated observations." Shenlong's Cyria avatar just laughed at that.

  "In your case...yes. You're delightfully straightforward and honest...let's see some of the highlights..." The entire mindscape blurred as the clock turned back to one of Ondun's earlier adventures. He had just earned the blessing of a company of mercenaries to attack Fenrir, the Astral worshiped by one of the Beast Tribes near Roguescove.

  "That, Admiral, is exactly why a stable peace needs to be forged with the Beastfolk. Ever have Roguescove's people simply taken more and more land. It is that very greediness that keeps leading the Gnomes to summon Lady Fenrir over and over and over again."

  The massive albino Garlon woman, frowned. "What would you have us do, Lady Aenora, fall upon our messers? I concede we are the cause of their woes, yet what other path is available to us but to stop the summonings by force? One and all know the ravages that the Astrals cause. Mayhap one day, we can do things differently...but for now? Corporal Ondun must sally forth and follow in the Argent Company's footsteps. Mayhap he and his adventurer friends will only inflict minimal casualties in their push to the Astral's lair."

  This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

  The scene froze yet again. Cyria was still there.

  "Yet you didn't argue further, did you? And was it not the aftermath of this that saw the Knowing Circle culled of most of its members save a few? Those were the first wounds your friend bore...and the wounds you bear, though you admit them not."

  Aenora's eyes were wet with tears. She had to switch to magic sight to try to see past them, but she saw only blackness. That's right...there is no magic to see through here.

  "I have never been anything less than honest with all I have spoken to. Only recently have people begun to listen to me," the Shamaness said mournfully. "The division between Civil Folk and Beast Folk has created more problems than anyone cares to admit...but they simply can't bring themselves to do things differenly...no matter the cost." She looked at stoic, stony-eyed Ondun, in a much less elaborate suit of chainmail, with a much more humble lance across his back.

  Cyria took her hand gently. "That's what hurts you most of all, isn't it?" Aenora nodded.

  "The Wayfarer's Brand is a gift from the All Mother herself. It's a boon far greater than any weapon, and it was bestowed on a gentle young man who just wanted to see the world. I have watched the light die from his eyes, and the deaths of people around him, and I've seen what it has wrought." She shuddered.

  Cyria tightened her tiny grip. "I wasn't asking about Ondun. I was asking about you. What marks has all this strife left upon your soul?"

  Aenora shook her head. "As a Shaman, we are taught that life and death are a dance ever in motion. Healing arts cannot work unless there is spiritual power to bind wounds with. Damaging arts cannot work unless there is life to inflict wounds. From a purely academic point of view, the lessons were easy, to the point I can use spells with Shamanism that both Dawn and Dusk Mages would have trouble with. Even so...it was only when I started working with Ondun that I began to see more and more death...and more and more struggle for people to live." She paused. "I...I am not okay with it."

  Cyria patted her hand. "Yet, you cannot avoid it. Tell me: Is doing nothing in the face of crisis prudence?" Aenora shook her head.

  "No. It is indolence."

  The Talden removed her hand. "Then, it seems to me that there's a contradiction at work. You face a foe who throws life away like one would a bottle of water. You - and your friend - also takes lives, in order to save them, yet much like the Admiral..." she gestured to the tall, tricorne-adorned woman, "...you too see no better way to move forward."

  Aenora nodded in shame. "That is so. I am such a hypocrite..." she growled in self-aimed frustration. Cyria hugged the Shaman's legs gently as the Felinian wept tears of rage, guilt, and an anguish she had shown to no one.

  When the tears stopped Cyria looked up. "Aenora, I find you worthy. Your friend has already taken the first step you must take: You must find a new vision, a new dream to realize. Only when you change your focus, can you change the actions you must take to achieve a new reality. Begin by imagining a world where you can find the knowledge you want, and where truth is not obscured. Dream of what makes you and those around you happy."

  Aenora nodded. "You are very wise, Shenlong. I see why the people of Monastria revere you so."

  Cyria simply waved one hand. "Nonsense. I'm merely an ancient fool. Olympus is my grandfather...of a sort. I've tried everything - living among Mons and humans alike. I have so many failures to my name it beggars belief, and my body count would make both you and Ondun shudder in fear." The tiny form of the ancient dragon paused. "You are doing better than I did in four times as long of a life. Please: Keep trying to find the new dawn your Knowing Circle seeks. Know that while you must fight for your beliefs, it is never the battles that will secure the ultimate victory. It is the acts of mercy, the truly intelligent, win-win decisions, that will do that."

  Aenora nodded. "Then...I believe Stumpy needs some training. I will need to ask Ariel." Cyria grinned. "By all means. Wake from here. Know that your All-Mother looks upon you with pride." The false Cyria paused. "She said to pass that message along centuries ago, to Lord Olympus. It seems she foresaw all this."

  On that puzzling note, Aenora felt the cold of Mount Yinshan, and consciousness, envelope her.

  Ondun found himself in a comfy log cabin, with Sylphie wrapped about him, and his arms about the sleeping monster coach. Outside their combined team of Mons was frolicking in bright sunlight, which brought a smile to his face. It's a shame this isn't real.

  Sylphie's eyes opened. "Huh, you got that immediately. Well, that saves some time." She sat up, still in his arms. Ondun couldn't find it in himself to let go, even knowing that this wasn't the Sylphie he loved.

  "Much have I seen in your mind, Ondun," the false Sylphie said. "Yet, of your friends, you are the one most ready to buy into this illusion. Even Aenora, when faced with the massive libraries of her homeland, wouldn't pass those up for reality. Why would you abandon reality so easily? I know you feel no arousal from Sylphie."

  Ondun held the false Sylphie in his arms, staring outside. "I suppose it's because I'm rethinking everything. Not about saving Monastria, of course," he added hastily. "Nor Arcanis. I really want both worlds to be safe. It's just...the encounters here on Monastria have shown me that what worked early in my adventuring career doesn't."

  Sylphie nodded. "Considering a career in politics?" Ondun scoffed loudly. "Oh hell no!" She laughed so convincingly it could've been real laughter from the real woman.

  "Hiro is toying with that path. In a way, it's a wiser course; less risk, more reward and possibly more change achieved. He who wields a blade is ever at the beck and call of those who give clear orders. Yet...that power is no less risky than the strongest spell or the sharpest weapon."

  Ondun nodded. "I've noticed. That's why I need to continue to travel," he concluded simply. "I don't know enough to know a better way. I know that I want a world Sylphie and I, along with the others, can all travel freely in, but that's not nearly a good enough goal. A safe world for travel may help the Beast Folk not feel the need to summon Astrals. A safe world might help the Civil Folk not constantly expand their dominions. An open world might make borders irrelevant. These are all good goals, but they're all predicated on something much more basic...and something I can't yet put my finger on." He looked down at the beaming Sylphie. "That's what I want to find, with Sylphie and the others at my side."

  She beamed widely. "Now I know you are truly worthy. You seek not the thrill of winning a single battle. You enjoy not the culling of a powerful foe. No, you recognize the need for something deeper: A sense of safety for all, and not the poisoned proclamations of a dictator who guarantees safety at the expense of liberty or self-expression. Ondun of Arcanis, I foresee that you will change many worlds before your travels end...with Sylphie at your side."

  Ondun nodded. "I need to talk with her about things, too. I know she feels...physically...for me. I can't keep ignoring that part of her forever."

  Shenlong's avatar nodded. "Then, save the words for her. Negotiate together. She loves you, despite you only being around each other for a week. There is fertile soil for something amazing to grow, not based on lust, but based on true appreciation. Take the time to let that love grow like the amazing tree it is. If you do, I guarantee you will go far beyond being mere friends; you will be the truest of companions."

  Ondun nodded. "I'd like that. Now...can I wake up? I think I need to hit the real you with pointy objects, and maybe a few spells. I have some ideas for some Shinobi jutsu that you may be the ideal opponent to work out the kinks on."

  The log cabin dissolved. Very well. You have all passed...the true battle begins now!