Slow Burn

[Eleanor Lamb]

Daenerys woke unhappily.

Firstly, the sweltering heat that assaulted her the moment her eyes flickered open absolutely repulsed her. From the looks of things, she had been transported inside a building—though the plausibility of that in the great white expanse she and her companion had been running through seemed low—and yet even still, warmth blanketed her all too thickly. Instinctively, she placed a hand on her chest, catching her breath and coughing up sweat that had begun to slip into her mouth while she slept. Disgusting.

“…she’s waking up!” someone called, and almost immediately hands were upon her, shoving her back down onto the table—not a bed?—that she lay upon. Her back crashed into the hard metallic surface and she groaned in pain, trying her best to fight back against the hold of these people who certainly did not dress like medical professionals.

“Remove… your hands… from me… this instant!” she stammered as she struggled against the grip of two women, one scarily scrawny and the other short and pudgy. The rounder woman pushed the taller one out of the way and grip Daenerys’ shoulders much too forcibly, pressing her firmly into the table and holding her in a bind that the khaleesi anticipated she would not be escaping any time soon. “This is unacceptable,” she muttered under her breath.

“Shut it, princess,” the crass woman scowled, turning her head to look at her skinnier companion, “go tell her friend she’s awake before she has a goddamn conniption fit.” The scrawny woman hurried out of the little building.

Black Mage, Dany realized almost immediately who she’d meant. In her lapse of focus, the bigger woman won the struggle and the rightful queen felt herself forced back onto the table, where she would remain until this peasant chose to unhand her. Still, that didn’t stop her from releasing a frustrated growl. Certainly this bitch would regret laying hands on her like this under normal circumstances, but as it were, Dany had no power over her, a fact that she struggled to come to terms with having been snatched so drastically from her queendom. Well, that, and in spite of herself the Targaryen princess began to think that perhaps these two women had been responsible for her care after she’d… fainted?

The memory began rushing back to her. She and Black Mage had struggled to escape the growing calamity at the Fountain of Infinity, and in their escape she had perhaps physically exerted herself more than she could handle—certainly, she had walked long distances, but even those treks could not prepare her for running for her life for what seemed like forever. The anxiety combined with the exhaustion had done her in, she supposed, and she had fainted like a pitiful, pathetic damsel.

So where was she now, then? The last thing she recalled, Black Mage crouched over her failing body in the great white void she’d come to know as the Nexus; behind him, a large gate of rocky stone stood, welcoming them perhaps into some other zone of this Omniverse. She had not stayed awake long enough to know what lay on the other side, but perhaps her guardian had simply scooped her up and carried her to safety? If that was the case, he deserved more merit than she had given him upon their first meeting. Maybe, she thought, she had been quite wrong to doubt his abilities. Certainly he had proven willing to protect her against the likes of Drake Oneir.

Finally, the rotund nurse took her hands off Daenerys. “Alright, you can sit up—slowly,” she allowed, and the khaleesi obliged. She hesitated to comply with this woman’s orders, but the returning burning sensation in her ribs kept her from straying too far from the lady’s advice. Perhaps she was just trying to help.

Dany placed a hand to her abdomen, hoping that massaging it lightly might ease the pain. No such luck, unfortunately, as the burning began to shoot up her sides. Running, she supposed, took more out of her than she expected.

“Why is it so hot?” she whispered under her breath, slowly pushing herself off the table and back onto her feet. She wobbled a little at her first steps, and the big nurse moved to catch her, but the khaleesi pushed her away. “You will not touch me unless I say so,” she ordered, and out of the corner of her eye she could see a disdainful expression cross the woman’s face. “Thank you for your help, but I must see my companion.” She moved for the door.

“You don’t need to be going anywhere,” the nurse protested.

Dany whipped around, regretting it immediately but holding fast. “I will be making decisions about what I do and do not need to do,” she growled, “I said thank you, and I meant it. Perhaps once I reach my companion you can help me further.”

She turned and walked to the door, unimpeded now. Behind her, she could hear the woman muttering comments that, to someone whose skin was not as thick as Daenerys Targaryen’s, might’ve been hurtful. But she had been through worse, and worse things had been said about her, so she shrugged them off and opened the door.

Sunlight blinded her. She blinked. As the area came into focus, she saw Black Mage and the skinny nurse approaching her, though where they had come from she could not tell; the area around them seemed relatively populated; it seemed to be a small, relatively advanced village, from the looks of it. It certainly held more life in its tiny boundaries than the area outside the city limits; as Daenerys’ vision began to get clearer, she began to see the rest of the verse: stretches of sandy, arid turf, stretching far into the distance and out past the horizon line.

She let out a defeated sigh. Another fucking desert.

[Black Mage]

They reached the gate, and time slowed for a second. The Lady Stormborn clutched her stomach, began breathing heavily, and then fell over plunging to the ground. Black Mage leaned forward attempting to grab her before she hit the ground. He managed to get his fingers and the upper portion of his palm on her back before she fell completely, but wasn't fast or strong enough to maintain a good hold and the silk of her dress literally slipped out of his fingertips as she hit the ground with a thud. The Warrior of Light cursed his magish physique as he looked over her. Her chest rose rose and fell slightly and frequently, still breathing but in an exasperating fashion. Perhaps it was the quiet nature of the moment in comparison to those with Oneir, but Black Mage just now realized how striking the woman was, having a sort of grace to her even in unconsciousness. It was a sort of small luck that she had fallen here rather than past the gate, as her white dress was unsullied by the featureless "Nexus" they inhabited. The Black Mage waited for a moment as the woman regained consciousness. She was a noble sure, but she had a certain toughness to her, as if she were the "Marching with her army" type noble rather than the "stay at home queen" variety.

But for whatever reason she didn't wake up.

This was bad. White Mage would have been able to cure her ailments, Thief would likely have a rare medicine in his pocket that he'd procured from someone who didn't need it. Black Mage had neither the mending nor swift hands of either. What would Fighter have done?

Carry her to the Church or the Inn. Duhhhhh

The sound of Fighter's tactless voice rang throughout his head. Of course that's what Fighter would do. Simple problem, simple solution. Move her until you found someone qualified to handle the problem. But I'm not Fighter, I can't just sweep maidens off their feet.

Yes you can. She's not that heavy, I promise. Just squat down, put your arms under her, push up with your legs. You kept pace with us as we ran around entire continents fighting monsters at every turn. Your legs are tough enough to carry one girl. You can do this Black Mage.

Fighter's voice came back, arguing with him. Lips curled slowly. Even in death Fighter was still reassuring him. Black Mage took a deep breath, then clapped his hands together and rubbed them for a moment before squatting down and putting his left arm under her knees, his right underneath her shoulders. He tried to straighten his back but it protested, and then remembered fighter told him to lift with his legs. Pushing them upwards it was obviously an exercise he wasn't used to, but he could still do it. And once he was up there to a full stand it wasn't too strenuous just to hold her as opposed to lifting her. Taking another deep breath as he realized he was actually doing this the Warrior of Light stepped forward through the gate.

The other side greeted him with a hot beating sun and the scratching flow of sand in the wind. This was no place for a noble. He contemplated going back, but he didn't know what was happening with Oneir, the crazed man and his oversized sword, or the demonchild that had found them. Black Mage found little motivation to pit himself against that quartet, especially while having to keep track of an unconscious noble. He looked down at the woman cradled in his arms, then again at the harsh landscape. Letting out a sigh he turned around and took just a few steps. In the Nexus he looked around for a moment before establishing nothing was waiting to ambush him. He then lowered the Lady Stormborn and began to unbutton his blue overcoat. He then laid it over the noble and put his straw hat over her face. She was already exhausted to the point of losing consciousness, there was no point in letting the sun beat on her face or the sand scratch against her skin when he could help it. Content with her new fortifications he squatted once again, put her arms under her, and then pushed to a standing position, going back through the gate to the piercing desert.

It was just as he remembered it from two minutes ago. Hot, sandy, and desolate, save for a few patches if grass here or there. The trek through it would have been difficult normally, but with Daenerys in tow it seemed insurmountable. Who knew, perhaps it was. There was no guarantee that anything in Omni's realm was hospitable. This place could be a deathtrap, as could all of the other doors "out" of the Nexus. Their only sources of information thusfar were Omni and Drake Oneir, neither of whom could be trusted at their word. But the Black Mage continued anyways, choosing to fight the devil he kind of knew as opposed to going back to the Nexus and fighting the one he definitely didn't know.

The heat struck more than just his skin, his sweat, but his very vision, distorting the air around him. It was worst upon his arms and chest, where the body he was carrying laid. More than just a simple load or weight the heat from her body caused him to sweat terribly. He it was being absorbed by his robe that she might not be soaked in his stench when she awoke. And she would wake. This trip would not be in vain, the noble would be safe, and Black Mage would ensure it as any Warrior of Light should. All he needed to do was make it to that town on the Horizon. Just another mile, a couple more hills, another pint of sweat. His steps, having been slowed for a while now, pressed on with new energy as he made out the buildings in the distance, and the faintest of figure moving between them. There were people there. One of them could figure out was wrong with the Lady Stormborn. One of them had to.

"Please. Help her." Black Mage spoke softly as he finally arrived in what wasn't a mirage. The people looked at him skeptically, some of them drawing weapons. Outsiders didn't seem to be appreciated.

"Help her!" He spoke now, his voice struggling to attain a greater volume.

"Why would we use our medicine to help an outsider?" One of them finally spoke.

"Because I need you to." The Black Mage replied, and a woman stepped forward.

"We can help her, but what you ask is not without a price." The woman spoke firmly, without compromise.

"Then let it be done." Black Mage said, accepting the deal of loosest conditions. A heavier set woman took Daenerys and gave him back his outer garments.

"Take him to inn for the night. She'll be healthier in the morning. " She said and he was escorted to the "inn", really a house with a couple spare rooms. As he moved his arms to put on his robes he realized the extent of the damage the sun had put on his arms. Moving was painful, let alone the scratch of the inn's bedding. Between the realization of the new world he lived in, the loss of his companions, Daenerys' possibly injured status and the insufferable sun poisoning sleep eluded the Black Mage entirely.

"Your friend is awake." One of the villagers said after cracking his door just far enough to speak.

"Where is she?" Black Mage asked as he put on his hat and stood to his feet.

"I'll take you to her." The woman said, and scurried off. The Warrior of Light followed suit, keeping his arms at a standstill as he wandered through the town to meet Daenerys. She looked exhausted, as if she were bearing a heavy weight.

"Are you alright?" His voice was soft, groggy, and tired. What a powerful couple of primes they looked like now.

[Eleanor Lamb]

Daenerys had felt low before, but rarely in her life had she feel this desolate. Stranded in the middle of a small desert civilization with no one to accompany her except a strangely-dressed wizard; she supposed she had been in more dire situations before, but something about this felt altogether unfamiliar. Perhaps it was the lack of any tangible connection to her homeworld; she would admit that she had only been in the Omniverse for a matter of hours, but thus far she had seen no evidence that this realm had anything at all to do with Westeros or Essos. For all she knew, her presence here was the only connection between her old home and her new one.

She shuddered at that thought. Her new home. Had she given up hope of finding her way back to Westeros already? Did the idea seem so hopeless? Had she really resigned herself to figuring out how to make this Omniverse work rather than trying to find her way back to her people, the people who so welcomingly accepted her as their queen?

Yes, she was forced to admit, she had; she didn’t know what it was, but something told her this predicament would not be a temporary one.

At least, she supposed, she did not have to worry about danger. The Black Mage had proven himself quite capable of keeping her safe; not only had he stood fast against Drake Oneir, prepared to fight back if and when the secondary had launched an offensive against them, but he had also successfully gotten her to safety when she’d been overtaken by exhaustion. Truly, the wizard would make a welcome addition to her journeys, wherever her travels happened to take her.

“Yes, I’m fine,” she responded to him, noting the weary quality in his voice. A good bodyguard and traveling companion, but not invincible, she supposed. It would do them both good to rest in this town for a little while. She approached him, tentatively. “…thank you,” she said, standing up as straight as she could muster and trying to look the part of the appreciative princess, “Thank you for bringing me here.”

The Black Mage simply nodded in response. Of course he would bring her here, she supposed—after all, they were in this together now, whether they liked it or not. She sighed, turning back to the nurses.

“My companion and I…” she glanced back at the Black Mage, and then again at the women who had helped her. Begrudgingly, she continued. “My companion and I require your assistance,” she folded her hands in front of her, her eyes darting back and forth between the skinny woman and the rounder one. “You see, we are… new to this place, and have no way of knowing where exactly we are.” The bigger woman chuckled a bit. She nodded at the skinny woman, and the latter scurried off to go do something. The Black Mage’s glowing yellow eyes followed her, suspicious.

“New to the Dunes, or to the Omniverse?” the rotund woman perked an eyebrow. Daenerys considered lying for a moment.

“Both,” she replied, deciding eventually to tell the truth, “We are… uh, what did he call it, Mage?” she asked, turning to her companion. The wizard and Dany pondered for a moment, trying to remember the word Drake Oneir had used.

Eventually, Black Mage remembered it. “Primes,” he said.

“Yes, that’s it, we are primes,” Dany smiled, turning back to the nurse, “We are primes and we require your assistance.”

The big nurse scoffed. “Y’know,” she leaned onto one hip, exuding sass, “It’s funny that you think I’m gonna do anything for you when you haven’t even deigned to share your goddamn name with me, princess.” The khaleesi scowled. Who the hell did this woman think she was? Still, she supposed, she needed her on her side, for the moment, anyway.

“My name is Daenerys Stormborn of the House Targaryen,” she began to rattle off her titles, “and this is my associate, the Black Mage—”

“And you’re both coming with us.”

Dany spun around. Standing just ahead of them was a coalition of men—four soldiers, it seemed—in stark-white, metallic uniforms. Their faces were covered by helmets of the same white color, accented by black lines here and there. Each man cradled a strange-looking weapon in his arms; the princess shuffled a bit further behind her companion, not knowing whether or not these men intended to harm them. Off to the side of them, the skinny nurse—who’d obviously gone to fetch them—stood with her eyes on the sandy ground. “And exactly who might you lot be?” she asked, peeking out from behind her bodyguard.

“We represent the Empire,” the leading soldier said, his voice sounding strangely mechanized through the helmet. “Welcome to Carrefore, Miss Targaryen.”

[Black Mage]

Daenery's skin had patches of sand stuck here or there, but it kept it's normal white tone, seemingly undamaged by the beating sun of the desert. He supposed that meant his hat and robes did her some good. His lips attempted to curl into a smile but were swiftly reminded that they were not undamaged by the sun, the pain causing them to return to their normal position. Though she answered positively he could hear the difference in her voice. She may not have been injured or sick but she was tired, and there was a twinge of defeat of in her voice. Or perhaps it was not defeat but "settling". Settling into the idea that they were really gone. Settling into the idea that they were in a mostly lifeless desert, to fend against the elements or risk fending it's inhabitants.

Rather than acknowledge her somewhat disheartened status the Black Mage simply nodded. He didn't know Daenerys well yet, but he'd have wagered that going into action and finding a solution would be better than talking about the problem. Mayhaps he'd be proven wrong, but he'd figure one way or another soon enough. That and he was hesitant to exercise any muscles of his face more than he had too. Daenerys might have detected this, taking point in discussion with the locals, but she was one to take point on such things either way. Help was asked for, to the laugh of the burly nurse. Her slighter companion kept quiet, ever switching her gaze between Black Mage and Daenerys and her companion. He suspected that she was fearful of the new arrivals, and awaiting some sort of order or signal from her. One she got with a nod, then she headed out. Black's eye's followed her walk as it accelerated slightly, with undeniable purpose. Eyes kept near her as they moved slightly, looking for a possible destination.

"What did he call it Mage?" Daenery's said in the corner of his ear, and the Warrior of Light turned his head for but a moment before hearing a bit of scuttling. He turned his head back to find the lighter nurse had left his sight. Black Mage let out a sigh as he realized she was gone, before pondering Daenery's question.

"Primes." He said, and Daenerys continued her speech, listening to her words as Black Mage tried to read her face. Her words held a tone of scorn, but her body language seemed to imply otherwise. The disgust was present in her face, but it seemed masked by another emotion. Fear? No, it was something else. Nervousness. Impatience. She was waiting for something, until at last her lips began to curl. Whatever she was waiting for she saw it.

"And you're both coming with us." The artificial voice came from behind him. Daenerys began with questions, but Black Mage was not so patient as to wait for answers. Minor crackles could be heard from his fingers as he turned and raised his outstretched hand towards the strangely equipped knights behind them.

"Air that stri-" His sentence didn't reach halfway before a swift right hook came to his solar plexus. To a man who'd always cast his spells through verbal incantations to have the wind knocked out of you was terrifying, but the Stormtrooper was not done. The knight's left hand went into a vicegrip around the Black Mage's neck, before the right came out of a fist and went to grab his right fingers, pushing them back until an audible snap could be heard. The Black Mage's body wished to scream, but the hand around his neck simply wouldn't permit it, pained coughs managed their way out of his mouth as he visibly shook to the pain.

"Mage Prime disabled." The distorted voice of his opponent screamed, and the Black Mage thought he saw the sight of other white-knights pointing strange weapons at the Lady Stormborn, but between the lack of sleep, the sun poisoning, the wind knocked out of him and his fingers being broken the Black Mage's pain tolerance finally gave out, the Black Mage's vision being encased in a veil of darkness before he finally went to rest.



__________________________________________________________________________________


When the Black Mage awoke he was in alone in a cell, his shirt and hat taken from him, revealing a gaunt ebony frame, short black hair, and yellow pupils that seemed to light in the darkness. Mechanisms restrained his mouth and fingers, not allowing for any speech or complex finger maneuvers. While he was alone in his cell a look across the way indicated that he was still with the Lady Stormborn, though she had her own cell and restraints. Though she didn't see him initially he could see that she was awake. Perhaps she'd been awake during their transport, or perhaps she'd simply woken up before him, he didn't know. Walking over he hit the bars of his cell with the metal restraints on his hands, making a clanging noise that drew her attention. Unable to speak he looked from one side of the room to the other and shrugged his shoulders. Where were they? What was going on? Hopefully she had a clue, anything that would help them get out. Anything.

[Eleanor Lamb]

Like usual, her help jumped the gun.

The Mage’s attacks wilted in the face of the Empire guards and their superior fighting prowess. Within a few quick blows, her bodyguard had been disabled and the white-armored troop turned their futuristic-looking weapons on Daenerys. Never one to be outwitted even when she was outgunned, the princess quickly lifted up her hands. “I surrender,” she said, taking a cautious step backward. Her eyes flitted down to the Mage, crumpled on the ground. Certainly she couldn’t just leave him—he’d saved her life. But she couldn’t just stand by and let these guards capture her this easily. She was a prize.

Her offer to relinquish herself to them worked exactly as she planned; the guards lowered their weapons, content to take her in without a fight. That had never been the khaleesi’s plan, though, and she quickly spun on her heel and sprinted off. Within seconds, she could feel the weight of her earlier fainting spell plaguing her, but this time, it wasn’t her own body that betrayed her.

A three-pronged projectile struck her in the back moments after she’d taken off running, and like a true fighter, she fell to the ground, spasming from the shockwaves pulsing throughout her body. Her vision darkened as the Empire’s soldiers approached her, until finally, it went black.

* * *

When her eyes flickered open, she wasn’t imprisoned. Rather, she seemed to be sitting in a rather comfortable chair, staring at a man in a finely-pressed gray uniform, hands folded behind his back. He stood against a railing a few meters away from her, his eyes tracing her figure with a strange sense of interest. Daenerys immediately felt herself being violated, and so she very quickly pulled herself together, straightening her stance and crossing her legs.

Surprisingly enough, they hadn’t even bound her. Her hands remained her own, and if she wanted, she could’ve gotten up and walked out of the room, provided the only other occupant let her. As it were, she decided to not take that chance. She would admit that her spitfire personality got the best of her.

“Release me at once,” she demanded, determined to prove to the man that she was the authority here. Perhaps she was free to walk out, but she wanted to make it clear that he had no right to bring her here in the first place. She had more titles attached to her name than he could probably have ever dreamed of. “And tell me where my companion is,” she tacked on, remembering all of a sudden the Black Mage. She would ensure that the boy accompanied her wherever she went, no matter how reckless he may have been; he had only been trying to protect her, after all.

“I’m afraid that’s not possible,” the man’s slimy voice oozed, and Dany let out an obviously-annoyed sigh, “Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Captain Renalds, one of the men in charge of the Empire’s outpost in Carrefore.”

This man didn’t seem to realize that she still had little idea what the fuck the “Empire” even was. At this point, they were nothing more than a bunch of boringly-dressed soldiers with interesting firepower to Daenerys. Well, that, and obviously enemies. The princess tried to stand, but found herself having a bit more trouble than usual—still feeling the effects of the shockwaves, she supposed. Hmph. They would pay for their insolence.

“I really don’t care who you are,” the rightful queen spat back, her words laced with venom, “All I want is to know what you want with me.”

“Well, Miss Targaryen,” Renalds tilted his head to one side, “you see, we here in the Empire take a special interest in Primes such as yourself. There are considerably less of you than there are of me—secondaries, if you will—and so when we stumble upon one, especially one with as much spirit as you and your companion, we like to… observe your behavior for a while.”

“I am not your lab rat,” Daenerys growled, marching toward him.

“No, no, no,” Renalds smirked, “At least… not yet.” The khaleesi quirked an eyebrow, and Renalds revealed one of his hands, holding a long, intimidating-looking syringe. With one swift motion, the captain jammed it in her arm, and her eyes went wide. “We needed you conscious in order to be able to properly complete the experiment,” he explained, “and someone told me you like dragons, hm?”

“I… I am the Moth… I am the Mother of Dragons,” Dany stammered through gritted teeth as she clawed for the syringe. Renalds nodded, condescension painting his expression.

“Yes, when my people were taking a look at you while you slept, they found tidbits of dragon DNA on your skin and clothes,” he said. “We’ve been having some dragon issues ourselves here in the Omniverse, so… I decided to see how you’d react to being injected with some of their code.”

Dany coughed up blood. “Their… what?”

But she didn’t hear the answer. Her vision blurred over. Her hearing went fuzzy. And once again—for the third time since she’d been in this fucking place—she blacked out.

* * *

When she woke up again, she was in a prison cell. Leaned up against the wall, this time she couldn’t see anyone observing her in a creepy fashion like Captain Renalds had; she simply found herself alone, behind some metal bars.

A quick glance to the cell next to her revealed the status of her companion. Black Mage remained unconscious, lying shirtless and hatless on the ground. He looked… different than she had imagined him. Not altogether unattractive, but most definitely not what she had envisioned when she thought about what lay underneath that thick layer of robe and straw hat. She began to feel a wooziness taking over inside her skull, and pressed her palm to her forehead.

Ouch, she thought, the pain of her fingers touching her head strangely poignant. She glanced down at them. She was not prepared for what she saw.

Scales.

The cell was dark, true, but she could see just enough to note that emerald-green dragon scales covered her arm from the tips of her fingers, past the wrist restraints, to just below her elbow. From her elbow up, her alabaster skin remained until she reached her shoulder. Her shoulders, collarbone, and neck were also blanketed by the green scales, stopping just above her breasts; she reached up with a clawed hand and felt her face, noticing that just over half of it had been transformed into the skin of a dragon, and the other half remained perfectly pristine, just as it had been before being injected with the essence of dragon.

She took a deep breath, and a long, serpentine tongue rolled out of her mouth. She recoiled it, tried to scream and realized the metallic thing in her mouth muffled it. She bit down and felt her abnormally-large fangs crash into the metal thing, shattering it.

She felt tears begin to roll down her scaly cheek, and now that her voice had been freed, she had the loud sobs to accompany them.

Her white dress was ripped and torn where the scales had poked through; below her chest, no part of her had yet succumbed to the genetic infusion’s side-effects, but the princess had a feeling that perhaps, within a short amount of time, her entire body would look like that of one of her beloved pet’s. Ugly, deformed, misshapen.

In the adjacent cell, the Black Mage stirred. Dany looked over at him, stifling her wailing for a moment, and watched as he fruitlessly slammed himself into the bars. “It’s no use,” she said, shifting into the light and allowing him to glance upon her scaly visage, “The bonds are breakable, but… I don’t know how.” She clenched her hands in fury, and suddenly the scales began to glow a bright shade of orange. A chill ran through the remainder of her body as her hands heated up, and the metal melted, freeing her.

“…well, that’s one way,” she sighed. She set to work on Black Mage’s own bondage.

[Black Mage]

The Black Mage continued to try rattling the iron bars in front of him to no avail. Backing up for a moment he looked around at what was in his cell, finding nothing he could use as a pick or pry bar. Thief’s dexterous hands would have done him well, but for now he was left only with his might, and magic he couldn’t cast without releasing his mouth. Kicking the bars this time he tried to find a weak point, a bar that clung or clang in a higher pitch than the rest but found none. He feel the ghost of Fighter telling him to put a little more elbow grease into it. With a deep breath the Black Mage backed up and looked at the bars, focusing in front of him. Letting out three short breaths he charged forward learning his shoulder into the bars. A big louder thunk resounded as the shock of the impact recoiled through his bones.

C’mon Black, that was weak! Just start doing push-ups and sit ups and pull ups every day and you can get in prison shape and knock it down next time. We could call you the Black Fighter Mage! Black Mage heard the shadow of Fighter’s memory speak in his ear. Letting out a sigh he laid his head unto the bars. He didn’t have time for that kind of training, and neither did Daenerys.

“It’s no use.” He heard the Lady Stormborn’s voice from the other cell, but it sounded somehow distorted. Curiousity got the better of him and he looked up as the Mother of Dragons slided into the light, revealing a new and corrupted form. Emerald scales covered her forearm and shoulders, moving around her collarbone and into her neck. The most surprising feature was her face, half being covered in the same emerald scales and half maintaining the near-pristine visage he had come to expect from her. Triangular fangs extended from her mouth, hiding a tongue that’s motion could best be described as slithering. In another time the Black Mage’s shock might have been obvious, but now it was less his shock and more his pain. He had allowed this to happen, he should have found a more secure place to bring her. Anywhere but a prison in the middle of the fething desert would have been better for the noble in retrospect.

“Well that’s one way.” The ‘damsel in distress’ proved she was anything but as she melted the bars on her cell, her viridian scales turning a shade of orange as her newfound power prompted their escape. A bar was melted, moved, and the Black Mage was freed from his cell. Though it pained him he put up with her removing his shackles, then removed the bondage restricting his mouth. Finally free and Daenery’s hands turning back to an unnatural emerald the Warrior of Light put his hand over Daenery’s scaled and clawed hand and looked her in the eyes.

“We’ll fix this.” He said, putting up a weak smile before letting her go. Her eyes showed a bit of sorrow after he said it, as the prospect seemed to become more and more real to her. She tried to put up a weak smile but couldn’t seem to push one through. Sensing it was time to go the Black Mage let his hand slip off her scales and began to head towards the door. Stopping before the door he put an ear to it and listened through the iron structure. Silence for a moment, but then he could hear a gentle tap, proceeding in a consistent rhythm.

“Air sharp as any blade.” He whispered as he pulled his right hand up, letting Daenerys see the crackle of lightning that began to dance around it. A glance back showed her emerald talons begin to emit the orange hue he had seen as she melted the bars. Three fingers popped up from his electricity channeling hand, then two, then one, then his left opened the door. Two white-armored knights were on either side, another on the far side having just entered the room from an opposite door. The Black Mage took a step left towards one of the hostiles.

“Bolt.” He said, releasing the current of electricity in a point-blank shot. Chattering could be heard as a slight burning smell came from the stormtrooper, the edges of his skin being charred the spell finished. Pushing his left hand forward he let out another torrent of electricity, amplifying the pain the guard took before he slumped down to the floor, unconscious or worse. Turning to face the white guard who’d just entered he spotted his raised weapon but didn’t have the time to stop or evade the bolt of energy it summoned. Scorching his right shoulder he found the recovering sunburn to be incited to add on additional pain. Rather than try to push through it the Black Mage raised his left hand to try and fire another lightning bolt. His accuracy suffered for using his offhand and the stormtrooper took advantage, sidestepping to the right of the bolt. The Lady Stormborn had already bested her stormtrooper by this time, and had closed the gap to swing a heat-infused claw at the other.

She dispatched him with a fury he hadn’t expected from a noble. Back on his world nobles let their knights or other warriors fight while they sat at home. While he wasn’t sure how many times she’d fought she’d clearly witnessed battle before, and knew what she needed to do to survive. He wondered what brutal world she’d come from, but decided that it didn’t matter. All that mattered for the moment was the brutal world they stood in and how to escape it, or at least this prison.

“Do you remember the way out?” The Black Mage asked as he stretched his right shoulder, letting the pain echo through him and giving him an idea of how strong the strange weapons of the Empire were. Looking around he saw the room was essentially a square box with a door on each wall. The doors each held a sign above them, but Black Mage couldn’t read the language. He was hesitant to simply follow the trail the newer stormtrooper came from as it could simply lead to more combatants, but on the other hand the other doors could just lead to more cells.

[Black Mage]

Daenerys looked at the Black Mage for a moment, then turned to look at one door, then another, then another. There was a strained look on her face, and she didn’t have to say anything for him to realize that she didn’t remember.

“We’ll just go forward then.” The Black Mage declared as he knelt down and picked up one of their magic sticks and tossed it towards Daenerys. She had her claws yes, but the weapons were ranged and perhaps they’d help her feel more human, if not more safe as well. Walking forward he put a hand on the doorknob as he leaned his ear across the board. Turning his hand he creaked the door slightly forward, trying to keep the barrier between him and possible enemies. He held it there but no magic bolts came to the door, nor could he hear the footsteps of charging knights. Slowly pushing the door open he revealed to the duo an empty hallway.

The Black Mage let out a deep breath of release as he saw its contents, then pushed forward, attempting a quiet though hastened pace. The Lady Stormborn didn’t need any signaling from him to follow with caution rather than speed. They were in hostile territory with no idea of floorplan, and neither of them wished to find themselves in a cell the next morning. At the end of the hallway was another door, but this one stopped at turn. Locked.

“Heat of the Light, show your flame. Fire.” The Black Mage whispered and melted the lock. A glance back showed Daenerys aiming the magic-stick at the door. Keeping his right hand on the door he held up three fingers, then two, then one, and then the door was thrust open, to reveal what appeared to be the barracks. At least a dozen of the Imperial Knights were there, half in uniform while the other half lounged about in their undergarments. The Black Mage threw a fireball then rolled forward, attempting to get behind a nearby bed as Daenerys came forward firing the magic weapon as she similarly found cover. The surprise of the door opening bought them a moment of surprise, and a couple of kills, but around nine soldiers darted for cover as they took their arms in hand and exchanged fire. He threw a few more fireballs as Daenerys continued to retaliate with their strange weapon, but in the stalemate of using simple beds as trenches their situation was dire. A plan had to be made.

“Lady Stormborn, get into the hallway. I’ve got them.” He yelled, but she just kept relaying coverfire.

“There are too many, you can’t handle them yourself!” She replied as wood splintered around them from their cover being destroyed.

“This mage has a spell or two up his sleeve, but you need to get out of the blast. Go now!” The Black Mage yelled and Daenerys held for a moment before heading back into the hallway, shooting as she backpedaled. The Black Mage knelt down and put his left palm on the ground and closed his eyes, magic surged through his hands and began to craft runes onto the prison floor.

“Mother Earth, see my foes and unleash your wrath. Quake!” The Black Mage yelled before punching his right hand to the ground. A seismic wave rushed through the room, knocking the troopers back before stalagmites erupted through the ground, skewering the imperials. His enemies felled the Black Mage let out a small chuckle, thinking it was over.

But one did not shake the earth inside a cave without disrupting it’s foundation.

The walls shook and the ceiling began to crumble. “Lady Stormborn, get back!” He said and tried to rush back to the hallway with her, but a rain of boulders blocked his path. Walls still rumbling the Black Mage ran to the direction of safety, away from the Lady Stormborn.

“I’ll be back for you.” He yelled as he ran, heading out of the barracks, away from the cave-in, and luckily into the harsh sun once again. Circling the underground prison he tried to look for another way in, but was quickly assailed by blasterfire from Imperial reinforcements. With no other options the Black Mage ran away from the prison, the Empire, and the woman he’d sworn to protect.



“What are you running from kid?” The Black Mage heard some hours later and turned, ice shard ready, to attack whoever might come. What he saw seemed a simple merchant, dressed in brown covering garb from the sun.

“Woah there, woah there, I’m not trying to hurt you. Now, where are your clothes?” The Black Mage paused.

“They were taken from me. I upset some folk because I was a . . . prime.” The Black Mage said as his shoulders slumped a bit.

“A prime hunh? On the run from the Empire I take it. Well, I wish you luck, but you’ll not get far in the Dunes with no clothes and no help. Why don’t you try conjuring some clothes?” Conjuring clothes? His magic couldn’t- but Omni said-

“I will try.” The Black Mage said and held his hands out, focusing and crafting a simple straw hat in his mind. A few moments later and it was formed, and a smile came over his face for only a moment before it disappeared, the shadows of his hand enveloping it. Another moment, another focusing, and his blue coat was formed once again.

“Not bad kid. Now,if you’re fightin the Empire you’ll need some friends. Head to Camelot. You’ll find a tournament there, filled with those with no love of the Emperor. That’s where you’ll find your new Warriors of Light.”

“How do you?” The Black Mage asked, but the man evaporated into sand, flowing in the wind. Was that Cid the Lufaine, like in his dream? Why couldn’t he just help him rescue Daenerys proper, rather than sending him to Camelot? He supposed it didn’t matter now. He couldn’t save Daenerys by himself, not as strong as he was now. The Black Mage decided he’d head to this tournament, and find himself the help to save her, or the strength to get the job done himself.