Very soon, the portal back to the Blackflame Empire would open.
And they would be there.
Lindon flew Windfall north, beyond the Blackflame Empire, back to the Trackless Sea. Where their battle against Malice had begun.
In the distance, he could see the clouds flickering with blue-and-gold lightning that signified the coming of the Weeping Dragon. If he stretched his perception, he could feel the Dreadgod coming, but he didn’t need to. His arm ached in sympathy with its power.
Lindon turned to a door in his home. It was a perfectly ordinary door; in fact, it led into a closet that he’d emptied out for this purpose. He carved runes into the doorframe to prevent it from deforming.
Then he shoved the pocket world construct into the door.
It unfolded in strange dimensions as he guided it with his will. While he did, Dross spoke.
[This is calibrated for the seven of us, so don’t sneak in any stowaways, all right? Oh, but do bring everything we told you to gather. Unless you don’t want to become more powerful than anyone has ever dreamed. Then stay outside. It’s not too late to run from the Weeping Dragon.]
Lindon fixed the last borders of the door and it began to shine. “When we come out of here, the Dragon will be running from us.”
Then he pulled open the door.
THE END
Cradle: Volume Eleven
Dreadgod
BLOOPERS
Dross projected the images of their goals overhead as Lindon pointed to each one of his friends.
“Orthos and Blue, all you need is enough power to withstand my madra and I can power you up myself. We can figure out how to unlock Mercy’s Book, and Yerin, the Blood Sage has already agreed to help you advance. Ziel, we’re going to give you the power to control time. Now, I’m sure you’re wondering where—”
Yerin made a choking sound. “Run that by me another time or three. We’re getting me a pile of scales, and he gets to freeze time?”
“I want his!” Orthos declared.
Even Blue chimed in.
[I too desire the power to bend time like a green branch,] Dross said.
Lindon was getting a headache. “You know not just anyone can use this Array. You’re the one who told me that, Dross.”
Dross slipped out of Lindon’s spirit and stared him in the eye. [Dig deep into your soul and tell me you don’t want to stop time.]
“…fine,” Lindon muttered. “Let’s all go.”
They had all gathered in the central room of Windfall, discussing their plans for the future.
Ziel leaned on his hammer. “Of course, this is only an issue if we’re staying in this world.”
Once again, everyone looked to Lindon.
“Staying?” Lindon repeated. “Obviously not. Let’s get out of here.”
Far away, Reigan Shen felt a weight leave his shoulders. “Well,” he said to himself. “That was easy.”
Across the Ashwind continent, through relays of constructs and messengers usually used to declare emergencies, Akura Malice personally delivered a message.
“By the authority of the Akura clan, let it be known that the sacred artist formerly known as Wei Shi Lindon Arelius has been corrupted by the power of the Silent King,” she announced. “To recognize the extraordinary threat he represents, he is to be considered a fourth Dreadgod. As he is but a child spitting in the face of his betters, let him be known as the Whiny Child.
“…what, Charity? Yes, I know. You think I want him to sound intimidating?
“Fine. Call him the…Slobbering Fool. No? Idiot Man-baby. The Cowardly Snail. Gluttonous Goblin. The Slippery Leech.
“Here we are, I’ve got it. Let him be known as the fourth Dreadgod: the Whimpering Flea! What?”
As Suriel worked to restore the world beneath her, Ozriel floated next to her and sighed. He pulled something from within himself, a construct of such little power that no one had taken it from him.
It resembled a small purple-red diamond, and as he activated it with a thought, it produced his own voice. “Of course, I saw this coming.”
Suriel looked to him curiously. “What’s that?”
“Oh, it’s nothing,” Ozriel said. He sighed again, and activated the small construct once more.
It was another sentence in his own voice. “What? How could I understand the mysteries of the Void Icon?”
“Why did you keep a recording construct with your own voice?” Suriel asked.
“It was for Lindon,” Ozriel said wistfully. “He was planning to silence me with a working, so I predicted what he might say and recorded a few responses. You know how much I love to be one step ahead.”