The oldest guard immediately saluted, fist to heart.

“I am Lucian my lord, Centurion of the First Guard. You have been down here for thirty hours. Are you well, my lord? You have been in much pain and were screaming up until just a short while ago.”

Toric chuckled and then coughed as the laugh made his throat burn. He could actually feel the itching in his throat as it continued to heal the damage at an accelerated rate.

“I will be fine, Centurion. Remember this; anytime power is gained in such an accelerated manner, the price will usually be pain. I was aware of the agony, but when things hurt that badly, time becomes a liquid concept. Do you know what rooms are mine; I can feel my bed calling for me.”

The Centurion smiled uneasily. He was not yet accustomed to speaking so informally with this young man, and he was thoroughly disturbed by what he and his partner had just observed. They had listened and watched for hours as Toric’s body had crackled and popped, bones breaking and elongating and then healing again. He was seven inches taller than he was before and massed a considerable amount more. His eyes were a very deep blue now; they seemed like a flickering black fire in the dim light of the shrine. Suddenly the Centurion realized he had been asked a question and replied quickly.

“You are in the Princeps quarters, my lord. Marrick is still waiting at the top of the ramp and can show you to them. A team of engineers are up there now installing a stout door and the Legatus has informed everyone that no one gets access here unless you or Daath Himself permits it. We will escort you out if you are ready now?”

Toric just nodded and gestured for them to precede him.

The two First Guards saluted him again and turned to head up the ramp, falling into the easy marching gait that they had learned many years previously during the first training they received as recruits. At the entrance to the shrine they kept marching up the ramp and Toric spun quietly to face the shrine that was falling into darkness as the fires winked out. Toric quietly saluted the altar at the center and mumbled a short phrase.

“I am the sword of Daath. May all that meet me either cheer or flee. I will not fail You or the world, my Lord.”

With that Toric spun and in several long strides caught up to the Legionnaires without them ever noticing his pause.

It was a silent walk. The Legionnaires had no desire to interrupt the young dracuman’s thoughts, and Toric was in deep thought indeed. He was becoming accustomed to his new body, and had already decided he needed to spend some time sparring with someone to get used to his reactions. The next time he slept would be an interesting session with the Instructors. It seemed that he was able to incorporate the changes into his movements at a near instinctual level, but every once in a while he caught himself moving jerkily or nearly stumbling. Time was going to be a necessity, and from the way Daath and the Others were pushing him; it did not appear like time was on his side. Neither Daath nor Artur not the Instructors had told him who the enemy actually was, but using his newfound speed of thought he went over all the details he knew - which was a lot of information considering his expanded memory - and arrived at a single conclusion. It made sense that Daath was pushing His Legion to combat the threat, as it was Daath’s actions that created the problem. The Forces of Shadow that Daath had banished to the northern lands seemed likely to be the enemy he was being groomed to face. In examining his memories there was only one ancestor that had seen the Forces of Shadow, henceforth to be called the Foes in his mind, and that was Camnorous the Devourer, the Elder Dragon. He had seen the Foes marching across his hunting grounds and had destroyed a few of them just for fun, but mostly he just ignored them. They were an army made up of many races, but with one thing in common holding them together. They all feared and served their leader, a Fae Shadow mage. He could recall Camnorous attacking their camp at one point and the Fae had emerged from his tent and locked eyes with Camnorous, sending a threat in a mental communication that basically said, “Leave us alone and we will leave you alone, but fight us and I will summon a Lord of the Inferno to fight you.” Camnorous had killed a few more of the ogres and then huffed a ball of fire into the center of the camp, sending a mental reply to the Fae, “I fear nothing little fae, and have slain Infernal Lords before, but if you cross these grounds without poaching from my herds anymore, then I will leave your little army alone.” The Fae had agreed and they had crossed in peace. From that little information that dated back nearly thirty thousand years, Toric had gauged the strength of the forces. They had been comprised of many different creatures and dark mages, with a huge baggage train and millions of the camp followers which attached themselves to all large armies. There were plenty of females and males; so they wouldn’t have all died out in the frozen north lands, and the Fae was immortal unless he was killed. He could not die of old age or sickness.

Suddenly Toric realized they were approaching the top of the ramp and pulled himself away from his memories to focus on the screaming and yelling he heard up in front of him. A few moments later and they stood in front of a brand new door, made of wood and banded steel, with a few planks not yet in place, he could see the solid steel core of the door and approved. Standing on the other side of the door were twelve Legionnaires facing outward and in front of them were three priests, including Brother Augustus and four of the Temple Guards. Temple Guards were pulled from the Legion and selected by the Priests; only the truly pious were permitted to join them. One of the priests was yelling at someone Toric could not see off to the side.

“I do not care who you are or who sealed off this entrance; I demand those Legionnaires move aside and allow us to enter. There was a massive surge of Daath’s energy somewhere down there and we need to find out what is going on!”

Toric recognized Marrick’s voice when he responded, and the sheer stubbornness in his tone made him chuckle softly.

“No.”

The priest sputtered in indignation when Marrick casually denied him. There came the sound of booted feet from behind the clerics and then the priest spoke again.

“Now that there is more of the Temple Guard here I am certain you will be more reasonable. Tell those Legionnaires to move aside, or I will have them moved forcibly.”

Before Marrick could respond, Toric reached forward and pulled the two First Guardsmen away from the door and stepped forward himself. He laid his hands on the shoulders of two of the Legionnaires forming the barricade and gently urged them apart to let him through.

The Legionnaires just about jumped out of their skin, but they did part to allow him and the First Guardsmen through their line. As soon as he walked out of the shadow of the tunnel everyone spun to face him. He was remarkably different looking than when he had entered. His face was older and while he still looked young, he most definitely did not look like a child. He was much larger and the darkly flickering flames within his eye sockets sent chills down the spines of everyone that looked at him. A thought from him flicked the dread enchantment on at a low level; making it just active enough to cause everyone that looked at him a bit of discomfort.

Marrick was shocked to his core. The boy was gone and in his place stood a man; a man that had been through unspeakable pain and trauma that would have broken most men, but had somehow only made him stronger than he was. For just a moment he thought he was going to break down and cry; the boy he had raised and loved as his own flesh and blood was now a tool of Beings of great power and that was never a safe occupation, but he managed to control himself and sent Toric a welcome fatherly smile.

The priests looked nervous and even a bit guilty; well all but Brother Augustus who just looked at Toric in terror. He was even edging back toward the rear of the group and looking around to mark his escape routes. He had been confined in that cage of fire for six hours, unable to even sit down without burning himself on the molten bars. His legs were still shaking from the exertion. He had gone immediately to the Temple and reported to his superiors who had insisted he return to this new tunnel with them. They had elected not to inform the High Priest and to act to discover what was down the tunnel by their selves before taking the find to His Holiness. Unfortunately they had not been able to get past the Legate Marrick for the past few hours and their leader, the Priest Adolphus had summoned additional guardsmen to force their way past. At the moment the guards arrived; so had the never to be sufficiently damned Toric.

Toric ignored all the shock and awe and frowns and rage. He simply walked up to the priest that had been yelling at Marrick and stopped within arm’s reach of him.

“I was very clear with Brother Augustus. This is not an area that is open to those of the Temple. These are not my rules, but those of Daath. At a later date I will personally take the High Priest within so that he might see it, and understand the reasons. However, that will be all. The Temple administers to the religious needs of the Legion. What is contained within the chamber at the end of this tunnel is precious to the Legion. It will be guarded and protected from all that seek it with either ill intent or selfish purpose. You are not acting out of altruistic reasoning. You think that I have barred the Temple because I am jealous of the contents. The thing that drives you to seek it is your own jealous nature. I have neither the time nor the inclination to pander to your ego. Now be gone, return to the Temple and take the Temple Guardsmen with you. Pray that I never again hear that you even threatened to pit the Temple Guard against Legionnaires; as that would present a wonderful reason to disarm the Temple.”

Priest Adolphus sputtered and gnashed his teeth before finally settling on a frown before he spoke.

“Who the hell do you think you are? The Temple is outside of the Legion’s chain of command and I do not even see a Legate rank tab on that ridiculous armor of yours. You have no right to command me!”

The First Guards bristled, but a stilling gesture from Toric calmed them.

“The Temple exists only because of the First Legate’s judgement that his men needed a structured religion. Daath was perfectly happy with each man being responsible for serving Him in their own way. The Temple was created and made equal to the Legates, but answerable to the Commander or his Heir. As to whom I am; perhaps you should have discovered that detail before you challenged my orders. In the old way of speaking I am the Legion Princeps; should that be too difficult for you to understand you may address me as Lord-Heir. Although I find myself liking the old title better.”

Toric turned his attention toward the Temple Guardsmen.

“I am fairly certain that in spite of the priests orders you men would not have attacked your brothers here. However, just to remove the temptation from this garrulous priest, please return to your duties at the Temple.”

Each of the Temple Guards saluted him and spun on their heels to march in an orderly formation back to the Temple. Brother Augustus was right behind them, and Toric let him go without a single glance in his direction, turning his attention back to the other two priests. His eyes bored holes in them as he waited for a response. Finally after several minutes of whispered conversation between the two of them, the one that had yet to speak answered.

“Very well, Princeps, we will return to the Temple. I am taking you at your word here, and I hope for your sake you haven’t been spinning any lies. Please excuse Brother Adolphus’s fervor in this case, he was not acting selfishly, but he was perhaps a bit imprudent. He is the Temple’s Archivist and gets quite overwrought at the prospect of mysteries. I am Brother Liam, the Temple Linguist, and was asked to come along as a student of ancient history myself. I have only one question for you, and the answer may well explain many things. Does this tunnel lead to the templum Domini aqua?”

[Shrine of the Lord of Water.]

Toric recognized the ancient tongue of the Legion from their previous world and appreciated the priests attempt to keep the question as private as possible. He smiled and responded in the same language.

“Etiam ita et lingua bene comitatus.”

[Yes, and I appreciate the courtesy of the language.]

Marrick and the Legionnaires and even Brother Adolphus looked at the two of them, completely mystified. Brother Liam and Toric shared an amused smile, and then Brother Liam took Brother Adolphus by the arm and led him away.

Toric turned and looked at the trio of engineers that had stopped work on the door to watch the drama and issued a quick order to continue along with thanks for all their hard work. Then he turned and looked at the Decurion in charge of the men guarding the entrance.

“When the door is complete, see that a lock is installed, one that can be opened without a key from the inside. Make certain there are only two keys for the lock, and destroy any duplicates. Take one key to the Legate First and bring the second to me. Then tell whoever is in charge of guard postings within the Fortress to establish a two man rotation on this door.”

The Decurion saluted and replied in the affirmative.

Toric turned to look at the two First Guardsmen with a tired smile.

“Please for the love of Daath; get me to my bed without any more drama or bullshit.”

The Guardsmen surprised themselves by laughing along with Marrick and led the two down the hall a short distance to a set of stairs. Two landings up they entered a short hall with only three doors. The second door opened into a spacious suite that looked to have been recently cleaned. The suite was magnificent, sitting on the top level of the Fortress, and having a balcony that showed a truly breathtaking view of the city and harbor. The main room had two fireplaces and comfortable looking couches and chairs along with a massive twelve place dining table. There were three smaller bedrooms off the main room and each room had a small bathing chamber with indoor plumbing. Toric stumbled into the master bedroom and even in his exhaustion had to stop and just take in the well-appointed room. Various different weapons adorned one wall, and it was obvious that these were battle ready weapons, not just wall-hangers. Next to the bed was an armor rack in the shape of a mannequin along with a wooden rack that would easily hold his personal weapons. It was an easy matter to unbuckle his weapons and hang them on the rack, but it was more difficult to strip his armor off and get it onto the mannequin. However, he managed it in only a short time, with the minimum amount of cursing possible. Finally he stood there wearing only his soft leather pants and ran his hand along his belly. If he looked closely at his skin he could spot the overlapping scales and if he focused hard enough the color of his skin shifted to a different hue. Experimenting he found it relatively easy to shift the scales to one different color scheme, which had black scales running in a wide line down his back and branching off from that band were tapering red stripes that curled around his body from his back to terminate at a point a hands width from meeting on his front, all the rest of him was colored a very dark charcoal grey. He found a mirror in the bathroom and was startled by his own appearance. One detail of the changes that he had not noticed was that his hair had changed color, it had been a deep brown, but now it was shockingly white. With a mental sigh he relaxed from what he thought of as his draconic persona back to his human and the scales changed back to his normal skin tone. He was fairly certain that with enough practice he could make his scales change color to blend into the background, but he was far too tired to try and figure that out now. After using the restroom he stumbled back to the bed and fell in a heap onto the soft feather mattress. Very shortly he was fast asleep.