“She is quite strong. Too strong for me to ignore,” Blackthorne lashed his tail like a cat while he kept his eyes on Dallen. “More than her life was on the line. She thought herself the last of the kind and did not want everyone she knew and loved to be forgotten after she too was forgotten.”

“She fought so fiercely, not to defeat me, but to protect that last shred of herself that she thought to be worth a damn,” said Blackthorne.

During this entire monologue, the crowd remained silent. It was as though they hung on the dragon’s every word. The city militia had arrived a few minutes earlier, but they did not get involved. The captain ordered his men to stand by, but he was not about to jump into the situation given what he had heard.

A short moment of silence ensued and then passed. Dallen almost believed that he might be allowed to leave, but the dragon began to speak once more.

“Did you know that deep inside of each of us there is an image of who we truly are?” asked Blackthorne.

Dallen did not answer. Blackthorne did not care. He continued to speak. “This is who we are, or who we are supposed to be.”

“This image is a pure existence, the definition of who we are. Yes?” asked Blackthorne.

Dallen nodded, though he had no idea what the fake dragon was talking about. At this point, he wished the thing would just stop torturing him.

“That image is surrounded, held fast, by chains of purest darkness. Not the comforting blanket of night, but the other kind of darkness. The kind of darkness that people use to mean evil, or wickedness,” said Blackthorne.

“These chains are made of our own sense of guilt and the stains on our soul from the vile actions that we commit throughout our lives,” said Blackthorne. “Even more, those chains also include things we have done in previous lives.”

“Do you know why I am telling you all of this, Dallen Davrin?” asked Blackthorne.

Dallen slowly shook his head, though the action main pain shoot throughout his shattered body. He did not wish to speak.

“One would think that it would be to prepare you, but it isn’t.” Blackthorne took a breath then sighed. “You see, it is for my sake. I needed to come to terms with what happens next.”

“You see, Dallen.” Blackthorne offered him a nod of his head. “These chains are something of a metaphor. When a soul has become too enshrouded in its own corrupted existence, it reaches a point of no return. It begins to break apart and will inevitably dissolve into the chaotic sea of potential that exists outside of reality.”

“I was not aware of this until recently, and even after I learned of it, I was not sure that it was true,” said Blackthorne. “Even then my memories are… suspect at best. Fragmented. Yet, I feel this to be true.”

“You see, as we live our lives, we accumulate these chains. Eventually their weight grows too heavy and we inevitably fall too far into the viscous mire that surrounds each of our souls.” Blackthorne took a breath then nodded to Dallen. “There’s a system in place to prevent the worst ending for a soul from happening, but…”

Once again, Dallen said nothing. What he could say about this situation?

“This system is a terrible place, but it is also a blessing.” Blackthorne gazed solemnly at Dallen. “You see, it is like a safety net set in place to capture souls who fall too far into their own depravity. In time, a lot of time, that soul will shed itself of its corruption.”

“As it breaks the chains that surround it, pierce it, that soul will slowly rise and eventually rejoin the rest of the souls in the cycle of reincarnation.” Blackthorne shook his head slowly. “It is a place of redemption, but the price to pay for that redemption is pain. Forced to relive every terrible thing that the soul has ever done, the soul will scream out into an endless void.”

“No one will answer, and even if they did answer the soul would no doubt wish that they had not…” said Blackthorne. “Even so, it is a place designed to help souls find their way out of the hell that they created for themselves throughout their lives.”

The strangest thing imaginable occurred. Tears welled up in the dragon’s eyes and slid down his scales. “You want to know what I intend to do?”

“I…” said Dallen at last, obviously confused by the sight of a crying dragon. From what he had heard, he did not want to know anything anymore!

“I am going to help you, Dallen,” replied Blackthorne softly.

“Wha—” began Dallen, only for Blackthorne to interrupt him.

Blackthorne raised up one paw slowly and then with heavy gravitas he thrust it toward Dallen. In a strong clear voice, he intoned the only words that needed to be spoken.

~ Death’s embrace need not falter. Abominations of the wasteland; return to thy eternal reward. ~

Clearly some sort of magic was afoot, but Dallen knew nothing of what it could be! “What is this?” he cried.

“Dark Judgment!” spoke Blackthorne in a cold and authoritative tone. The tears dried on his serpentine cheeks. The decision was made. Now it would be up to Dallen to decide his own fate.

Lightning skittered along his scales. His eyes blazed with a fearsome red light.

Dallen tried to crawl away, but despite his desperation he could not. His shoulders were dislocated.

A massive circle of flame rose up around him. The circle of flame burned a hole in the stone floor…. No in the world itself.

The stone of the floor fell away into an endless darkness below, but Dallen did not fall. Beneath his writhing body there appeared a bright red symbol. This circle of power began to rotate, slowly at first, and then with great speed. The air whirled, and soon its song became a roar similar to that of a tornado. Dallen hovered above the symbol for a moment, confused, and beyond the idea of simple terror.

However, that gravely disturbing sight and the roaring of the wind were not the strangest thing to happen. A crackle of electricity and a loud snapping sound rose up from the simple. Like gleaming serpents, jet black chains blacker even than the darkest night erupted out of that symbol. They shot into Dallen. Tore into his flesh. Yet, it was not his husk that those chains sought. They twisted within his flesh. They writhed and pierced deep, and deeper still.

Dallen shrieked in mortal terror as those night black chains ripped through his psyche and then into the core of his soul. They shredded his defenses, tore through his many layers of existence, and pierced to the heart of who he had become.

His body fell atop the symbol. Something semi-visible was drawn out of him, but it struggled mightily to deny what was to come. This ephemeral wisp of a man, an image covered in rot and festering wounds, it clawed at his ruined flesh.

It screamed.

It pleaded.

It begged for one more chance.

A chain snapped. He struggled harder. The soul of Dallen Davrin gripped his flesh, tore at it with his spectral hands. The lice in his hair, not true lice to be sure, cheered him on even as the puss filled lesions on his face ripped open and then ran black with the wickedness stored therein.

Another chain snapped and then another. Dozens of chains had pierced his soul. He was able to resist three of them. Viscous fluid poured from his semi-transparent eyes as the chains ripped him down past the seal. They took him deep into that darkness below, and down… Drawn ever downward into the abyss by the weight of his own corrupted nature.

The hole in the world slowly closed. The bit of leftover meat that was once the house for Dallen’s soul was all that was left behind to mark the event. Of the dozens of chains of vile corruption that had pierced him, he had shown the resolve needed to face and break only three of them.

No one spoke. No one knew what to say. Even the cheering weirdoes were taken aback. Was this lord of darkness the real deal?

Blackthorne shifted back into the form of a man, or his normal near proximity to that appearance at least. Slowly, he turned to look at the eyebrows that were peeking out at him from behind the judge’s podium.

“It’s time,” said Blackthorne.

He walked toward the judge. The man’s bushy brows rose skyward. “No! Please! No!”

Blackthorne walked over to the man, unmolested. No one wanted to go anywhere near him in that moment. Even Sonja was taken aback. He had never shown her that power before, but he had mentioned something about a Dark Judgment. Now she knew why he never used it!