He waited a few moments, in case Vedlinia needed to move through, then squeezed through the crack himself. Then he shuddered, a wave of holy energy passing over him, like stepping into a scalding sauna, his skin immediately prickling and sweating. Hopefully this wouldn’t take long! There was a metallic tinkling from somewhere close by, as an arm emerged from a gleaming pile of gold, coins and trinkets shifting around and knocking into each other. Ash was making sounds of delight and pleasure as she rolled around and through the gold, burrowing into it, pulling it around herself.

Vedlinia’s voice came from close by, a shape he could just about see if he focused on it. ‘That seems… unusual.’

‘It’s what they do. Dragons get very attached to their horde, and they need one to be considered an adult and attract mates. And Ash gets distracted easily at the best of times.’

‘How old is Ash?’

‘A century or so, I think? She doesn’t really count the years, and I think she’s rather precocious, at least by dragon standards.’ Ash had now burrowed into the gold, a deliriously happy face surrounded by gleaming metal, trying to put herself in contact with as much of the stuff as possible. ‘She doesn’t want to bow and scrape to her elders until they allow her some advancement, or find a patron and work for them.’

The tinkling sounds of gold moving, and childlike giggling, continued, Ash momentarily lost to awareness of anything else. Kinnevar looked over the treasure, trying to find what he was looking for. The gold was scattered about the stone chamber, with other items tossed about the heap. But even from here, he could see several weapons sticking out of the gold, thrumming with power, rings and amulets of power, a few wands and rods as well. It looked more like a dumping ground than a treasury – nothing was organised or sorted, it seemed like items were simply deposited and left. Which was one way to deal with ancient and powerful artefacts, and probably more stable than having them left to run wild, but did mean a lot of power in one place, ready for the taking. He grabbed a few of the more powerful-looking items and threw them into his enchanted beltpouch, along with handfuls of gold and treasure.

‘We should be careful. Both of traps, and, well, Ash tends to get a little stressed if interrupted, so it might be a while before she’s functional again. Hopefully she won’t want to bring all of this with her!’

‘She certainly looks happy, at least.’

Ash was blissed out and delirious, flame dribbling from her mouth, trying to gather as much in her arms as possible, burbling to herself. ‘Yeah, I think this is what dragons spend a lot of their time doing. Makes more sense why they spend all their time on their own, people would think them less fearsome if they saw them doing this.’ Ash was heating up, literally - a warm glow emanated from her skin, making some of the gold stick and cling to her body as patches of her flesh turned to crimson scales. ‘I should calm her down. If she transforms back in here, it’s going to get very cramped.’

He strode into the gold, the stuff thick enough that his footing was stable, walking towards Ash. A gout of flame burst upwards with a rush of heat. ‘Ash, you can’t take all of this.’

She rolled over, eyes vivid yellow and slitted. ‘Yeah, but I want to! Hmmm…’ She sprawled across the gold more, half her body now covered in scales, the air noticeably warmer. He twisted his fingers, summoning up a brief burst of cold energy and projecting it at her, air hissing as the hot and cold collided. Ash’s voice echoed the hiss as she hunched up protectively, the heat diminishing as Kinnevar shot another burst of cold at her. She growled again, but then switched to less hostile grumbling, starting to shovel gold into her bag, the leather not growing or expanding no matter how much went into it.

The sword twisted in his hand, suddenly clamouring for blood, pulling on his arm. It was stronger now, the incoherent cries almost a voice, just on the edge of understanding. He tensed his arm, freezing it in place, his body rigid with tension, having to fight for control. The golden band on the hilt flashed with a sudden fierce heat and crumbled away, only the barest wires now left holding it together.

He fought down the murderous urge, Ash mercifully not noticing, too busy happily collecting gold, happily stroking and nuzzling it before shoving it into her pouch. There was a sound behind him and he spun, blade at the ready. Vedlinia’s shimmering form, still barely visible, jumped back, her own sword raised protectively.

He took a deep breath, forcing the tension down. ‘My apologies, Vedlinia. This place has me somewhat on edge.’ The edge of the blade now had a strange sheen, darkness within the metal consuming the light, the cutting edge barely visible in a strange un-light, an unearthly haze. He slapped a hand against the pommel gem. ‘Now, tell me where it is, and then we can be gone.’ The prickling sanctity of this place was wearing at him as well, sweat starting to bead on his brow, his clothing starting to cling to his body.

It responded, glowing red, fighting him. Of all the times for the thing to act up! Work with me here, then we can go and get you fed. Lots of blood and souls. The howling lust for murder depleted somewhat, making it easier to move again. It tugged at him again, more gently now, towards a reliquary of jet, silver and ruby, covered with symbols of warning and warding, many of them melted and cracked.

Vedlinia stayed behind him as he approached, assessing the power it held – although some of the seals still held, many were broken, a powerful energy buffeting it from the inside, seeking out power to drain. It was made to protect against whatever was inside, rather than to keep people out, a hatch held shut only with a metal latch. When he opened it, a wind rustled his hair, the treasures shifting and rattling. He could feel it trying to latch on and drain his own energy, the sword moving to protect him, but Vedlinia suddenly appeared, her invisibility spell ripped away. A thin mist appeared around some of the magical items in the vault, their essence getting pulled away, a line of silver energy sprouting from Vedlinia’s sword.

Inside the reliquary was a single chamber, the size of a head. Sat atop a silver platform, the metal tarnished, pitted and mostly disintegrated, was a bell, seemingly formed from crystal, the handle of green-tinged copper. Much like his blade, dimly-seen shapes moved within the material, vague faces forming like patterns of ice, before fading away. The clapper shifted slightly, knocking against the bell with a gentle ting, even that slight impact sending out ripples of power, the piles of gold shifting as though pushed by a wind.

Above it, a shape started to form, small and humanoid, but with horns twisting from their skull. Vedlinia drew her blade, power still getting sucked from it, the blade growing progressively duller as Kinnevar held his arm up. ‘It won’t be violent. I hope.’

Watching it form was unnerving, the shadowy shape getting rapidly more detailed, hovering in the air, and then colour getting applied, the grey and dull form gaining flesh of pearlescent white, jet black horns spiralling from their head. Eyes fluttered open, strangely mortal, although the rune-flecked pupils beneath much less so, symbols flashing up, too small and too fast for Kinnevar to read.

Fingers flexed, and the thing took in a breath, gently settling to the floor, shape fluctuating still, before elegant robes settled onto a child-like frame, hair getting styled by spikes of obsidian set amongst the blazing crimson.

‘Servant of my kin… Why hast thou come?’

‘To provide succour and relief.’ He tapped the hilt, red energy flickering out, getting drawn towards the bell in a jagged line. ‘Should you falter, then the consequences would be dire, or so I am given to understand.’ The glow from the bell got stronger, shadowy forms appearing in the air – monstrous and misshapen things, bizarre assemblies of wings and eyes set upon too-small bodies, or warped giants bulging with muscle. Vedlinia stayed close, weapon at the ready, looking around nervously.

‘This wasn’t part of the deal, Kinnevar!’

‘Feel free to take whatever you desire as payment.’ He could feel the blade trying to leech his own energy, attempting to penetrate through the spiritual barriers he erected, siphoning off some of his spirit. The line of energy was jagged, spiked and uneven, protrusions shaped unnervingly like clawing hands, stretching out and trying to grasp whatever they could before being drawn into the bell. The devil-child grinned, their mouth dropping open to show far too many sharp teeth and a yawning gap into darkness rather than a throat. They reached out towards the line of energy, grabbing it and pulling it into their mouth, the crimson vanishing into the abyssal black.

The creature spoke, apparently unhindered by having its mouth full. ‘Scant pickings, especially for the multitude I must feed! And the last to use me was most profligate, taking what should have been mine.’ Several magical items were crumbling into dust now, their power drained, streaming towards both the blade and the bell. They tilted their head, rune-eyes scrutinising him. ‘You have managed to acquire an impressive amount of power, for a mortal. You would make a fine vessel.’

The sword seethed, spitting and sparking with energy. The grin from the figure was unnerving, their face inhumanly smooth, like porcelain or china, bereft of the usual imperfections skin bore. ‘Jealousy? While you roam free, my kin, I have been bound here, fading away, trapped by those that cannot comprehend the truth of their deeds. And what of our other sibling?’

They paused, as though hearing a response. ‘Vanished? That is scarcely a surprise. Shall this one be my bearer? They seem strong.’ They looked at Vedlinia, energy spiralling out of the ground towards her before she jumped away, gold skittering away as she landed, blade now unsheathed. Patterns of energy traced through the gold towards, darkness tainting the bright metal as it seethed and roiled. The line of energy between the blade and the entity crackled and sparked. ‘Fast as well! This one would make a fine vessel. Not quite as impressive as yours though.’

Kinnevar felt himself gripped by power, his body paralysed in a helix of crimson.

‘Possessive, my kin? We three are all that are left, and the multitude borne within us. Can you not share, even a little?’

The energy crackled again, releasing Kinnevar, at least enough for him to speak. ‘I have no desire to take part in your quarrels but was bought here with a promise of power for myself. Conquest I can manage without your aid, but I seek wisdom.’

‘Oh?’ They paused again. ‘Ah, you wish a fragment of power. You mortals forget things so fast. How many years has it been since we last worked together? Tell me of your travels.’ A force brushed through Kinnevar’s mind, memories trickling and cascading through his mind. ‘Interesting. It appears we managed to achieve many of our goals, despite our defeat. And the elder-folk had much knowledge and power to consume.’

A ghostly figure appeared for a moment, that of an elven elder, their face gaunt and drawn, the crown on their brows broken and cracked, fine robes tattered and worn. They looked at Kinnevar with pleading eyes, for just a moment, before vanishing.

‘You grow tired yourself, it seems.’

The blade was changing shape again, the spikes less distinct, some of the sheen gone from the blade. The bloodlust was growing stronger, a deeper thirst rising up now the blade had sacrificed its own energy, a growing hunger for more souls.

‘You have done well, mortal. You may have your gift – see that you feed your master well, they will need many souls to regain themselves. We three are all that is left; it would be a tragedy were another of us to fall.’

A spell raised itself in his mind, an utterance of command, bound deep into the roots of the world, a thing of black and potent power. The runes continued to chase Vedlinia, as Kinnevar tried to fully shake off the power holding him, the spell now squatting in his mind. He managed to make himself speak, trying to sound humble.

‘This world is not ready for you yet, it has not yet recovered from the last time you walked the earth.’

‘Such a thin and insubstantial thing this world is! Aye, I sense the essence has stretched thin. Your feast shall suffice for now. Although I sense others approaching, bearing the burning light of the heavens. You may wish to ready yourself - it would be inconvenient if you were to die here, delicious though your soul might be.’

The sword buzzed angrily.

‘Yes, yes, this one is yours. The other one though, you have no claim on.’ A circular glyph appeared from which sprouted a demonic arm, tipped with eight fingers, all clawed and unnaturally jointed, reaching for Vedlinia. She sliced at it with the sword, severing a finger, black blood spilling forth.

Kinnevar spoke. ‘You have no claim on her.’ He could barely move, body still paralyzed, but the sword was weakening, feeling returning.

‘Oh? You think to fight me?’ The thing sounded amused, maw opening wider, to reveal that star-flecked void again, threatening and all-consuming. ‘Your power is as nothing before mine. I was old before this world was even written into being. Some stripling sorcerer, even one bonded as you are, is scarcely a challenge.’

Another arm appeared, Vedlinia barely dodging its grasp, as Kinnevar shook free of the enchantment holding him, slicing with the blade. As it cleaved through the monstrous flesh, he felt a shock of energy running into him, the figure suppressing a wince of pain. Vedlinia landed, blade twisting and dancing in a rapid succession of blows, severing tendons, fingers dropping to the floor and then vanishing. It started to regenerate, monstrous flesh reforming, bony plates forming on outside to reduce the damage from another such attack.

Ash was recovering from her gold-daze, her own horns protruding from her forehead as she readied for combat, a sphere of fire appearing in her hand.

There was the sound of commotion from behind them, their ruse now discovered. The arm made a final lunging grasp at Vedlinia who only barely saved herself with deft strikes and parries, slicing open the palm and diving aside. Stinking black ichor splashed out, vanishing before it hit the ground, before the arm itself vanished from view.

‘Hmmm, it appears as though you have been discovered. It shall be entertaining to see you fight - my kin is so direct and forthright, their champions are always entertaining to watch. But it would be problematic if we were both bound in this place. The feast you have provided shall let me endure some time. But what of the third, our ever-errant and erratic kin?’

The blade grumbled, somehow managing to sound annoyed. The figure chuckled, a disconcertingly mundane sound from something so inhuman.

‘Yes, they always did have strange preferences. I imagine they will make themselves known in good time, when we are next released, and able to claim what is rightfully ours. Until then, I shall return to my slumbers.’ It gave a melodramatic yawn, stretching its arms to reveal inhuman hands, the fingers bending backwards, tipped with needle-like nails. ‘This place, so high above so many, has such a surfeit of dreams to devour! Thin stuff, compared to a soul, but intriguing.’

A lance of holy fire shot through the air from behind Kinnevar, knocking into the ceiling and sending shards of stone to the floor, falling amongst the hoard. The prickling and sacred heat he felt intensified, making him shiver uncomfortably. Guards ran in, blades and shields at the ready, backed up by spellcasters, the chanting of invocations loud in the small chamber.

The figure suddenly vanished, the casket clicking shut again. I wonder how you will escape from here? Of course, if you were to give me your companion, then I could transport you to safety.

Vedlinia shimmered from sight again, her invisibility reasserting itself. Then a cool blast of energy pulsed through the air, shredding any magical effects, and she re-appeared, her invisibility shattered again. Ash flung her hand out, the sphere of fire out and striking a guard, melting through his armour, and into him. An arrow flew out and embedded itself into her shoulder, runes on the shaft glowing vivid purple as it discharged magic into her. She stiffened for a moment before snapping the shaft, her arm now scaled and red, eyes fully reptilian. ‘Owww! Kin, you said there wouldn’t be fighting.’

‘I said I hoped there wouldn’t be fighting. Sadly, plans have changed.’ He could move fully now, swinging the sword around his head in a dramatic gesture, eddies of magical power visible even to the naked eye. He raised his voice, so that he could be heard by everyone, while steeling himself to speak unleash the new power revealed to him. ‘I had hoped to avoid unnecessary bloodshed, but it seems such will be necessary.’

An arrow shot towards him, which he easily cut out of the air, the curse in the arrow snarling and clutching at empty air. The spellcasters, sensibly keeping their distance, prepared to cast more spells. Kinnevar ordered the shambling body of the cleric forward, the thing absorbing a few shots before collapsing, the animating spirit sent to their final rest before he unleashed his own spell.

Thick darkness bloomed into existence, the primordial void from the seed of creation, from before the dawn of the world. He could hear an unnerving, distant sound, countless voices all speaking at once, dozens of languages all babbling, singing, chanting, praying, and beneath it all, the smirking, confident tones of that creature. The screams of the guards blended in with the voices, weaving together into a discordant harmony as Kinnevar jumped backwards. Several spells burst out from the darkness, exploding against the walls. He blocked a beam of fire with his sword, the thing stirring, wanting to feast, demanding souls and sacrifice.

Vedlinia kept her sword raised, slicing at the unaimed arrows that shot forth, keeping herself safe. ‘Now what? I’m not going through that!’

‘Ash, can you get us out of here?’

Between throwing more spheres of fire, she was shovelling more gold into her bag, desperate to get as much as she could. ‘Yeah, but I don’t know this area, so you’ll probably end up kinda high…’

‘It’ll be better than here!’

A guard ran out of the darkness, swinging blindly with his sword. Vedlinia and Kinnevar both attacked him, easily taking him down. His lifeforce ran into Kinnevar’s blade, a crimson shimmer running into the pommel-gem.

‘Well, I’ll be fine, at least.’ Her draconic horns grew further from her head, her mouth and jaw distending as she invoked her own powers, a flaming circle appearing around them.

The stone chamber vanished, and they were suddenly outside, surrounded by bright, chill air, bright blue sky above, and nothing below. Kinnevar started to fall, wings sprouting from Ash’s back, disappearing from view as she braked her own descent. Vedlinia was screaming as she fell, close enough that he could reach out and grab her hand.