Prologue: From the Darkness Steps….

"My Lady..." The words, as always, were groveling, expecting a previous pain as a result of their utterance." We beg you reconsider." The woman turned, regarding the sniveling man, frozen eyes bright. Frightening intelligence, tempered by the determination resonating in those eyes.

"I have reconsidered." Her voice was unflinching. "No matter how I avoid, I wrangle, I struggle, the conclusion is inevitable." She closed her eyes. "I do not make my choice lightly." The untrained eye could clearly see the weight upon her shoulders.

"I understand that." The man sounded braver, seeming to understand his end was not nigh. "There must be another who could carry out the duty in your stead? The Lady of Naga will undoubtedly cross your path..." There was a pause. The man seemed to pale at the thought.

"I am aware of that." The woman's expression gained a measure of worry, before returning to cold indifference. "My journey is different from the perilous trek she undertook, and no different." The woman touched a hand to the blade at her hip. "I know what must change. And I will change it." The confidence did not extend to her eyes, if one was aware of how to look, but her companion remained ignorant. His eyes were downcast, almost those of a servant losing his master, an impression his deferential stance was quick to reinforce.

"Yes my Lady." The man knew the futile nature of his case, from the tone of her voice. "I shall prepare an honour guard." The woman shook her head once again.

"No. I make the journey alone." The command was absolute. Her brow furrowed. "I will not Damn another soul." The man did not miss the inflected capital letter. He bowed.

"Very well. Everyone wishes to see you a final time." His words in turn were commanding, and the woman did not refuse, offering a simple bow of her head in agreement, although her mouth thinned with displeasure.

-FE:FDUL-

Howling winds rose, a bitter challenge to the woman's presence. Aside from pulling her cloak tight, the woman gave no indication of noticing the natural assault. Cold was a small impediment, not worthy of notice, in comparison to the trails in her past.

Certainty of purpose was a shield almost as great as plated forged in dragon's fire, the woman thought. For a brief moment, she was assailed by memories of those wars that foisted such lessons upon her. The howling wind provided the small mercy of drowning the remembered voices.

"Halt!" The booming command shattered her reverie. Eyes draining of feeling, the woman turned toward the speaker. She had no time for sure idiocy.

A Hero, wielding a great sword, stuck a figure most would have found terrifying. For her part, the woman was unimpressed. Years of war had left her immune to such petty posturing. "Who are you?" The Hero demanded. The woman gave a snarl of annoyance under her breath.

Flipping the hood of her cloak back, the woman leveled a glare. Black smoke welled up within her eyes, burying the natural grey in moments, writhing with her inner rage. The Hero backpedaled, fear flaring in his eyes.

"I am sorry my Lady." He dropped to one knee. "My life is yours." The woman growled, flicking her wrist. A snap of energy lit the windswept peak momentarily, and the man was sent flying. Without a word, the woman continued her trek.

She encountered no further resistance as she entered the shrine. Ancient magics beyond the ken of any living mage pushed back at her very presence. The walls of the room lit with runes, a visible sign of the temples displeasure.

"Sanctum." The woman mumbled, flicking her wrist, a long earned tick of casting magic. Energy danced over her cloak, runes imbued with an equally ancient power fighting the shrines guardians, before fading from the visible spectrum. The woman bowed her head, advancing to stand before the Altar.

From beneath her cloak, she produced a shield, five points gleaming on the metal.

"Naga." The woman's voice was rough. "Divine Dragon. I beg your ear." The runes on her cloak flared orange under renewed assault. "Seized from your champion I return to its rightful home." Magic of her own rising the woman floated the shield to rest upon the Altar, before closing her eyes.

Only the sharpest eye would have noticed the tremor in the woman's fingers as she knelt, hands clasped before her. The wards on the temple flared with rage, unable to bear the idea of the woman paying homage within their walls, redoubling the force of their assault.

"Naga! By the ancient covenant submit myself to judgment! I lay before you the Emblem of your champion, and my blackened soul. I ask neither honor nor mercy, only fairness in your judgement." The woman took a readying breath. "Naga! Once before I stood before this altar as the Falchion shone with Divine might again. Now, I return the Emblem of your Champion, slain-."

"By your hand, Fellblood." The sudden presence in the room was stifling. Gasping the woman lowered her hands, eyes closing. Tears pricked at their corners.

"Yes." The word struck with force, both upon Naga, and the woman.

"Most surprising, Fellblood. You accept the action as your own." The woman shook her head, unwilling to meet the eyes of the one called to be her judge.

"It was my hand, my spell. He might have influenced my action, but that does little to diminish my role." Her voice cracked. "I understand and accept that fact."

"So you do." The words were amused, more than anything. "And you feel this absolves you of crime?" The woman responded, gesturing violently. Magic hissed and spat as the temples wards lashed out, detecting the rage, and rising in attempt to strike down the intruder. The woman's cloak blazed with light as her protective runes rose to the challenge.

"NO!" The woman exploded. "Do not," she hissed leaning forwards, posturing shifting from shame to anger, "ever, insinuate that again." The woman rose to her feet, cloak flapping in an unseen magical gale. Naga regarded her with cold indifference, unimpressed by the display. "Nothing will absolve me of crime." The woman spat, hand falling to her blade. "A thousand years might pass, and that won't change." The temple's wards howled, their assault falling upon a wall of magic, the woman's cloak shining with incredible brilliance. "I cannot sum the lives lost as a result of me." The woman glared at the goddess. "I see I was wrong to come here." Magic blazed nearly white, interspersed with black tendrils, the first sign the woman was losing her control. "I leave you the Emblem, and the knowledge that while I will destroy every aspect of him, I will not hesitate to paint you just as much the villain." The woman spun to leave. The temples wards glowed white along the walls, ancient runes spewing magic into the night, as determined to end the woman as ever.

"Wait, Fellblood." Naga's tone was gentler. "Your heart is black with loathing." The goddess paused. "Your soul writhes under the weight you place upon it." The woman paused midstep. "Regret. Rage. Abandonment. Sorrow. Despair. Your agony must have tasted wondrous just after his awakening." The woman snorted, her lips twisting into a pale mockery of a smile. The black fire in the magical typhoon around her flickered in delight.

"My soul bled dry." Was the only response. Naga bowed her head.

"Yes." Naga was silent. "You have lost your strings." The meaning was not lost on the woman. "What boon do you seek, Fellblood?" There was an obvious battle within the woman, between the sensible side of her, that knew leaving was the better course, and the idealist, that wanted to stay. The idealist seemed to prove victorious.

The woman faced Naga squarely, eyes flint chips. "The Falchion's bearer is back, at the beginning." Naga nodded. "She lacks knowledge that will prove vital." Naga didn't move. "Send me back." Naga frowned, her own eyes turning cold.

"She is not within this continuum, Fellblood." The woman waved an impatient hand, expression cold, seeing an evasion for what it was.

"Spare me. She was sent back. Although the continuum is different the chronology is the same. Events will, if unaltered, play out the same. She lacks enough knowledge to write a different page." The woman retorted. She had come too far to be balked now, when within the cusp of victory. Years of refining her arguments would not be wasted on such a trivial thing.

Naga frowned. "Knowledge you have?" The dubious note in the divine beings voice was apparent. The woman flicked her hair, a motion of impatience, and annoyance.

"At risk of sounding arrogant, yes. She doesn't have the knowledge of how your Champion died, for example. I can go on for days with knowledge she lacks." The woman spoke with conviction. "This is not a flippant request, Divine Dragon."

"No. You have considered it often. Nearly since he cast you aside." The woman laughed, a bitter, marrow chilling sound. Naga shifted her weight, obviously uncomfortable. "Suppose I agree, Fellblood. How might I know your sincerity?" The woman spread her hands.

"In the same way you know the purity of your Champion's heart." Naga's eyebrows arched. "Although I will omit the bit about making me your true son or daughter." There was a note of dry amusement. "I imagine my blood is too tainted for magic to like such a pronouncement."

"A bold claim. One that will undo you." To the goddesses surprise the woman released another bone chilling laugh.

"Unless you burn away the very soul, I have known worse pain." Her eyes closed. "Be done with it." The command was final. Naga bowed her head, knowing the woman's will was unbending, and wishing she did not have to doom the last chance for an entire world's survival.

"So be it Fellblood." She rumbled. Magic swelled, a Divine crescendo building.

The woman's muscles snapped taught from pain. Naga watched, impassive on the surface, as the woman's eyes narrowed, focusing upon the Divine Dragon, never losing clarity or intensity. Slowly the woman stepped forwards, once them twice. Naga clamped down upon her surprise. Dozens had endured the ritual of Awakening, and none of them had been able act beyond screaming while undergoing it.

"He described this to me once." The words were conversational. "I admit his words understated that feeling."

"Few Champions of mine have led lives as yours." Naga point out, watching the woman relax, the pain having subsided. The Divine Dragon was awed by the woman, although the emotion did not show upon her face. Few could face the trial of Divine Fire without so much as flinching, and fewer still without the slightest notion of pain.

"Indeed." Naga mused. "I shall grant your request, Fellblood. My Champion's daughter shall arrive a short time after your arrival in the timeline." The woman nodded. "Also, a gift, Fellblood." Naga closed her eyes. A musical roar filled the room, alongside a nimbus of magical power. The runes along the temples walls flared to life, as did the runes on the woman's cloak. Both defenses, however went unused, as the magic pooled inwards, as opposed to outward.

A brilliant white flash filled the chamber, revealing a blade suspended by magic. The woman's eyes widened. Even from a distance, she knew that blade by sight, without question. Although many decades had passed since she last saw one, the pale radiance of the bone white weapon casting odd shadows about the room.

"Falchion." She murmured. Naga nodded.

"Falchion. The mark of my Champions, Fellblood." The woman stared. "By bond not by blood I name you a wielder." The Dragon bowed. "You have earned my respect Fellblood. Carry my blade with honour." The woman bowed in return.

"Thank you." It was clear from the tone that woman didn't find herself worthy of such a weapon.

"Indeed." A whirlwind of white grew between them. "I wish you luck Fellblood, on your quest. Watch over them." Naga murmured, as the woman vanished in a swirl of white.