Trust not in your own arms, but in the Great Wyrm. No chick falls from its nest without the Wyrm s knowledge. How much more then does the Great Wyrm know your needs. It alone knows all, and has all power.

— From the Wyrmling Catechism

Lord Despair was impatiently touring his armory when his Knights Eternal returned that morning, three hours after sunrise.

He was studying the wyrmling weapons mounted on the walls-axes for chopping, hooks for grabbing one s prey, battle darts in various weights and sizes, war bows and spears. All of them were overlarge for a human.

But Despair wasn t interested in weapons for humans. The Emperor Zul-torac had opened a door to the netherworld, and now the Thissians were negotiating with a murder of Darkling Glories. The Darkling Glories normally hunted with only teeth and talons, but Despair felt that they might benefit from wyrmling technology.

All day, his unease had been building, like the static that builds before a storm, waiting to be unleashed. He wanted to know what was happening at Caer Luciare. He wanted his shipment of forcibles. Three days ago, it would have been no small thing to look into the mind of his Death Lord and learn what was going on in Luciare. But now his Death Lord there was gone, and Lord Despair had no idea which of his warlords now ruled in Caer Luciare.

The Knights Eternal stopped outside the armory, and both of them hesitated at the door.

They looked haggard, bleary-eyed.

"Yes," Despair demanded. "What word do you have of my forcibles?"

The Knights Eternal cringed, a rare thing. Their kind were usually fearless. Lord Despair knew instantly that the news would not be just bad, it would be horrific.

"We have returned from Caer Luciare, and the news is not favorable," Kryssidia said. "But we have brought a gift of blood metal, in hopes of turning aside your wrath."

The Knights Eternal each dropped a heavy black sack at their feet, and pushed it forward. By the size, it had to represent a hundred pounds of blood metal, perhaps enough to make a thousand forcibles.

I shall have to send it to my facilitators immediately, Lord Despair thought. A thousand endowments will give me the strength I need to resist the coming attack.

Inside, something eased. The Earth s warning was not as persistent. But it was still there.

"Your gift is appreciated," he said, turning away from the wall of weapons and drawing closer. "Now, tell me of the ill news."

Kryssidia knelt. "Master, your warriors at Caer Luciare have discovered the pleasures afforded by the forcibles. The Fang Guard have taken over the fortress, and they are taking endowments from many warriors. The place is filled with carnage, with fallen warriors strewn about by the thousands. They have not been felled by axes-but with forcibles.

"The Fang Guards imagine that they are a great nation, and that Caer Luciare now rivals Rugassa in power. We demanded forcibles, but their leader, Chulspeth, brandished a weapon from the small folk at us-a powerful staff filled with runes-and said, Tell your emperor that I have sent him all of the forcibles he will get. We have taken many endowments, and we have a weapon now that will kill the Death Lords. Tell him to surrender. If he wants to live, he will do so under my rule. Tell him to come himself-and grovel before me. Perhaps I will let him lick my boots." Kryssidia added. "Since they would not give us forcibles, we dug some blood metal ourselves."

Despair s blood rushed from his face, and he stood for a moment fighting back a cold fury. He had not received a single forcible from Chulspeth.

The fool.

He considered how to fight, what warriors to send. It had to be someone he trusted, and it had to be someone who could battle a Runelord with hundreds of endowments.

Lord Despair had no warriors with endowments to match, but he had servants with other powers.

Vulgnash. He felt inside himself, and felt peace. He had used his Earth Powers to choose Vulgnash, put him under protection. And so he could send the Knight Eternal into battle. The Earth did not warn against it. Vulgnash s skills as a flameweaver would do nicely. And with his endowments of metabolism, he could fly to Caer Luciare and back in only a few hours.

Yes, he would do nicely. It would give him a chance to atone. This mess, after all, was his fault. He had gifted the Fang Guards with endowments of bloodlust, and had left them untamed.

But Despair could not spare his pet at the moment. The human attack was imminent, and Vulgnash would be needed here.

"I will send Vulgnash tonight. Tell him what you ve seen. You will go with him to punish the Fang Guards. Tell him to burn Chulspeth. There is to be a new lord at Caer Luciare, one who will do my bidding…" Despair considered. He needed someone he could trust, but someone whose presence he could spare. Kryssidia had been gifted with a dozen endowments in the past two days. Over the last few millennia, Lord Despair had elevated his Death Lords to the highest positions because he could commune with them from afar. But having a physical body, it seemed, now offered more substantial benefits. "You, Kryssidia, shall keep the order at Luciare. You shall take endowments there, no less than two hundred, and you shall hold the title of emperor of Luciare."

"I am honored," Kryssidia said, bowing low.

Despair had taken some endowments already-brawn, stamina, metabolism, and grace. He would need more for the coming battle. "Take the blood metal to my facilitators quickly, and have them begin making forcibles and extorting endowments. I want a thousand endowments in the next five hours."

The demand was outrageous, impossible. There weren t enough facilitators to do the work. But the need was upon him.

Despair felt inside himself, listening to the Earth s warnings.

Yes, the danger was still there, but it had grown less. The humans were coming soon, but not with sufficient force.

Deep inside, he heard the voice whispering. "Now is the time. Choose to save the seeds of mankind."

But Despair had no desire to choose further. He d tried to use the newfound protective powers to choose his Death Lords, but they were so far gone toward death that he was powerless to save them.

All right then, he thought, I will choose.

The Knights Eternal had picked up the blood metal and were racing to take it to the facilitators.

He turned to the fleeing Knights Eternal. "I choose you," Despair whispered.

He felt a connection made, weak and tenuous. With one foot in the grave, and one foot out, the Knights Eternal were almost beyond his powers to reach. He wondered if, when he sent them word of danger, they would even be able to hear his call.

That is the Earth Spirit s problem, he thought, and laughed.

Human flesh. That was what the Earth wanted him to choose.

Lord Despair opened a latch to the nearest door and found one of his guards. "O Great Wyrm," the guard said, "we have brought more small folk to give you endowments, as you requested. They await you in the Sanctum."

"Well done," Despair said. "I shall be there shortly."

The small folk. They could be both a cursing and a blessing. He considered the Wizard Fallion. There was a slight chance that the small folk would succeed in rescuing him.

But there was a way that Despair could keep track of him.

The Earth Spirit wishes me to choose, Despair thought, and so I will choose.

He immediately called his guards to escort him to the dungeons-to the cell of Fallion Orden.

Vulgnash sat over the wizard, a forcible in hand, filing a rune at its head. The room was as cold as an ice field with the north winds lashing across it. Vulgnash leapt up as Despair neared; he raised his wings to full span, as if in salute.

"What would please my master?" Vulgnash asked.

Despair peered down at Fallion Orden, who lay sprawled unconscious upon his belly. Frost rimed his collar, and he was barely breathing. Using his Earth Powers, Despair looked into Fallion s heart.

Here was a man who dreamed simple dreams. Fallion did not want to rule the world. Lord Despair had never wondered what the young wizard might desire most of all, yet Despair knew that he would need to know.

There it was in his imagination-a small fishing boat, a coracle that he could row out onto the sea at dawn, and there cast his nets and hopefully be done with work for the day by noon. He wanted a cottage at the edge of the sea with a fine thatch roof to keep out the winter rain. He wanted children sitting on his knee as he told them bedtime stories. He wanted a wife to hold at night, and to cherish.

Such simple things. So repulsively wholesome.

"Yes," the Earth s voice whispered deep inside him. "This one is worthy to inhabit the world to come."

Despair raised his left arm to the square and said, "The Earth hide you. The Earth heal you. The Earth make you its own. I choose you through the dark times to come."

When it was done, Despair stared down at the wounded boy.

Now you are truly mine, he thought. Wherever you might go, I will be able to find you.

"Vulgnash," he said. "It is time to begin the tortures in earnest. Give another hundred endowments of compassion to Fallion Orden today. It is time to force Fallion to tell us what we need to know."

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