Krala woke up in her mother's arms, and she could no longer feel the whistle of winds buffeting her.

But everything was so much hotter. She coughed as she took in air that felt like it burned her insides.

"Easy breaths, my moon. Calm. You are unused to the air outside the palace, and all the destruction has driven up ash and mold that has made it even worse. But you are strong, you can handle it. Calm," said mother.

Krala felt calm flow into her again, and she nodded.

She looked down and realized they were on the ground now. She looked up at her mother's smiling, gentle face, and behind her, far in the sky, there were huge chunks of broken metal wreathed with crackling electricity and big shards of wood floating in the air.

And…and Krala thought she could see bodies between the debris, but before she could begin to make them out, mother blocked her view with her face and gave her a kiss on the forehead.

"We are here, my moon," said mother, and when she drew back, there were small tears lining the sides of her amethyst eyes. "Just a little more."

A little more until what? Krala wanted to ask this, but she still felt so tired, and before she could rouse herself, mother moved again.

Mother floated just a little bit above the ground as she passed under an arch of rock. She put her sandaled, clawed feet down on the shadow the arch casted, atop a large growth of glowing black fungal matter, and the matter parted to reveal a deep pit.

They floated down the pit, in complete and utter darkness, until mother's body jolted as she landed on solid ground.

Krala saw in the darkness ahead a seemingly unending tunnel, but that distance shortened quickly as mother flew forwards at high speeds.

Mother stopped a minute later in front a tall human man built wide and sturdy like a boulder.

It was the very first time Krala had ever seen a human, and she widened her eyes in wonder.

He was wrapped up in robes very much like mother's.

While mother's robes were black, the man's was brown like the dirt and speckled with a patch with six stars on it, matching his grizzled, dirt-caked and bearded face.

Despite how scary he looked, Krala could see his eyes were sad. Very sad as they looked down at mother.

"Thorian," said mother with a nod as she brought Krala down to the ground. "Say hello, little moon."

Krala nodded and waddled up to Thorian, not even reaching his knee, and bowed her head politely.

"Hello," she said, feeling shy and nervous. Was this the right thing to say to humans?

"She has not heard of me?" said Thorian to mother. A hint of disappointment leeched into his voice.

"Of course, she has. You think I wouldn't let her know about my boneheaded partner in the Order?" said mother.

"Those were…better times," said Thorian. He knelt down and put a rough, hard hand on Krala's head, and she recoiled backwards because it felt like a brick was scraping her head.

She hid behind mother.

"She's just shy. She loves new people and new things," said mother. "But she hasn't talked to anyone that doesn't look like her. It might take some time for her to adjust and talk to others, but I know you of all people can teach her that. Sometimes, I think you talk too much."

Mother paused. "Though I suppose we have not talked face to face in how many years is it?"

"Ten years. Not since the Red Night," said Thorian. He shook his head and trembled, his cracked lip quivering.

Mother walked forwards and embraced Thorian, patting his broad back once before pulling away. "Don't go crying on me like this. It truly does not suit those muscles and looks of yours. Come now."

"Khalanna, do you…you do not have to do this. You are a decorated sorcerer with eight rings: one of few Zeniths across all the realms. Your knowledge and power could rival the Ascended.

If you explain to them like you explained to me that you were being controlled, no, that all the daemons were being controlled, then would they not grant you lenience?"

Mother pointed to Thorian's head. "Your hair is thinning and graying."

"Khalanna, please, be serious-," began Thorian.

"That means you are old. Both of us are nearing sixty, even though time may show its marks far slower on my kind," said mother. "You and I both know from experience that Common Life does not easily forgive and forget.

The Red Night slaughtered countless millions across all Common Realms. Even Aetheria itself came under attack.

My kind will never be forgiven." Mother sighed, but then nodded down to Krala with a smile. "But she is blameless and miraculously unmarked. And she is mine.

At the very least, I want her to have a happy life resembling something normal."

"You can still come with me," said Thorian. "That mark of yours, I swear I can find a way to erase it."

Mother put a finger to her forehead, where a black crescent moon mark lay etched. The same that was on most of the important people mother talked to back in the castle.

"I am a genius among geniuses, I will not shy away from acknowledging my skills," said mother. "But this, even I cannot find a means to remove. It is divine magic from a Gatekeeper – there is hardly anything that can touch this.

The best even I could do was sever my will partially from it so that I was no longer under the thrall of Kinthas.

But it is already pre-ordained. When Kinthas falls, so do the marked. You know this. You have always known it. I told you from the very beginning, the very first time I reached out to you to plan this a year ago."

"I have some sway with the Sorcerer's Order now, Khalanna, I can make something work with you. With you and me, I know it," said Thorian. "I am privy to the higher plannings among the Order.

This full-scale invasion may seem like vengeful retaliation, and I do acknowledge there is much vengeance among the armies, but we ultimately are not here to destroy Kinthas.

I am sure you have thought about this too. Kinthas is a Gatekeeper. Without him managing one of the Five Origin Gates, the world will fall out of balance. We are here to capture him alive, and then we are to capture at the very least one of you from the origin-touched royal bloodlines."

Thorian pointed a big finger to mother. "Like you. I can have them keep you alive. You daughter, too, and then we can remove the mark."

"Thorian, you know this is idiotic," said mother. Her words were harsh, but her tone was soft. "Kinthas is king of daemons, lord of the seven courts, Gatekeeper of Chaos, and wielder of Duskfall.

And he is completely and utterly insane.

You think he will ever submit willingly? You think the Common Realms can afford to try to keep him alive?

Five realms. Five world's worth of military might. The full might of the Sorcerer's Order with eleven Zeniths among them. The Adventurer's League including the vast majority of their seven to ten star adventurers. The Ascended. And even the aid of the avatars from the twelve gods of the Protectorate.

All of this against Kinthas in his full manifest with the curse of Undeath fueling him." Mother shrugged. "The odds are five to one in favor of Kinthas, I should say."

"Solarion is with us," said Thorian. "And he is also in his full manifest. Wielding also the Dawnrise.

With the shielding around the castle down, Solarion should now be making his move.

We have time, Khalanna, time to decide."