Magic flowed quickly; my power diminished. It was an almost physical sensation—it hurt. They tore away part of me. The worst was feeling that experience every time I expanded my field, every time I let my guard down, every time I wanted to help the orphan.
For now, I resided in the elves' castle. Behind it were small mountains where the last of his kind grew happily in the caves—born of a mother, with no possibility of siblings, owing allegiance to no one, with enough power to face much, yet still an infant who needed magic, a great deal of it, to grow. I felt him coming. Every moment, my uniform field diminished and wavered. Many times, I only had enough magic left to invoke the vision and not go blind. Other times, I only heard him arrive. That dragon did not know it, but with all the danger he represented, he was my best chance to reach my goal.
Lilith accompanied me this time. Usually, I was alone, but every so often her troops held a kind of stalemate between themselves, the mercenaries, and the chaos forces. It was in those moments that I saw her. She said marveling that "He"—from what I had read, he would give himself a name when he felt adult—changed. At times, he was a child, or an old man. Sometimes she said he looked like a human with reptilian features, but to me, he always looked as he was—a young dragon, brilliant black, son of the one who had kept us away from the rest of the planet. Now he learned at a forced pace, grew at a forced pace. Beyond the help we would have against the gods, he had the potential to break dimensional barriers. If he achieved that, he would have access to where my elven princess's body resided—perhaps then I could grant her rest.
Even though I did not see him, I could feel his presence, his steps, the pain they caused me. He knew I suffered but did not understand why. I would never tell him the reason. From the moment I matured his egg to give him a better quality as a dragon, we became linked. A brown or green dragon would not have used more force than I used in a day to hatch, but a black one required all the magic I had taken from the Lich and a great part of my strength just to make the hatchling reach the level of a black dragon. Despite everything, there was not enough strength for him to grow. Even though he could eat, the nutrients from meat and vegetables did not help him as much as magic—only no one could provide such power all the time. I did it at the cost of being on the verge of madness at times.
I greeted him, told him I was meeting someone. Even though they knew each other and she could sometimes be considered his mother, Lilith was not able to stay near him for more than a day. She insisted that the magic absorption was so severe it reverted her to a state of violence that only succubi at the limit of hunger could experience. Unfortunately for her, the possibility of having sexual relations was almost impossible. Since we saw the risks of pregnancy in the females of her species—the mother always dies giving birth to twins—she had forced herself to feed on darkness mushrooms. That kept her satisfied. Yet within hours of being in the dragon's presence, her supply ran out, and while she maintained control, she excused herself and withdrew. He seemed to know the reason, as he never asked me about it.
While he was here, however, she spoke with him. She explained military strategies, social strategies, food production relations, rationing, magic abilities—always showing how to use power to build, not to destroy. Ironic, given her magical nature as a succubus had applications of dark magic. Yet she worked hard. Complex enchantments were detailed; magical constructions for peaceful or violent purposes unfolded before them. In those long hours, I practiced a few meters away from them. My sword must remain sharp, as my magic was limited to what I could generate in my body and, at most, a meter outside me. I had to be able to defend myself without becoming a burden to them. They always excused me. Chapatrueno insisted on forging something to assist me in combat against the elves or even against these new dangers called gods. But I asked for something special. I wanted armor capable of facing what I would find in the Chaos Marks—something that would allow me to reach my beloved, ask forgiveness, and bury my sword deep within her being. Only then would she be free from the infernal pain she must be experiencing second by second.
Today, they spoke of magical fields and how to filter external influences—specifically the undead. The constructions were quite complex. I understood the idea, but the subtlety to carry them out could only come from the Lady of Perdition, as she was known in the towns where the agreement between the Whitecaps and us had not yet penetrated. The threads of magic were woven by her hands of black, sharp nails. Her eyes looked like deep wells, but in them lay kindness and sacrifice beyond anything anyone would ask of a priestess. She was the only one who could help the people trapped in the earth movements that occurred when this dragon's mother disappeared—the containment field she used and all the sunken terrain that had remained so for millennia to keep greedy eyes of other dragons away. Chapatrueno below and she above, bringing refugees, protecting people from bandits, doing everything I wanted to do but could not—I had no magic and was still learning about the Chaos Marks.
The Whitecaps used Lilith's constructions to keep the dead out. We used the ideas of that Whitecap—dangerous now that he knew his duty was not in the elves' toys—to keep away the elven tricks to steal magic from our people. Now, after having spoken with him, I thought the moment had come. I could not stay here any longer. The evil of these supposed gods was spreading. Lilith had too much on her hands just keeping the Dark Forest and Midnight Raven safe. Even if it meant taking risks, I had to go out to help them.
At night, my succubus friend had left. He continued reading the magic treatises she had brought on her visit. I asked him to listen to me. I told him I had to leave—people needed my help. He looked at me, knew what I was talking about, but said nothing. I explained that he would have to accompany me—he needed to know life beyond books, to see that evil lurked in many places and was not only wielded by those who sought power. But since others did not have it, sometimes it would be necessary to balance the scales. He stood and walked to the balcony. With the little magic I had, I observed him. He looked determined—I did not think he would flee. But I still did not know his capabilities; I did not know how strong his abilities were. He had to accompany me, as I was running out of time, but I thought it best he stay on the sidelines. From the balcony, he took something and returned. As he did, he brandished it as I wielded my sword—spinning it in the air while a light traveled from one side to the other. Finally, the sword came toward my face. I did not hesitate—I grasped my own weapon and parried the blow. It was a strong strike, charged with dark magic. When I could focus, I saw he had been busy on the mountain. He had an enormous piece of mithril in his hands, shaped by magic or force into a sword the size of a claymore, and there I could easily recognize runes from me and Lilith. Words echoed in my ears for the first time in five years—sweet, solemn:
"I understand, Father. I will go."