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Greatsword held tightly within his grasp, Gregor exchanged glances with Daria, and found much to his surprise that the big barbarian woman was not terrified. But instead was curious as she studied the green skinned lizards, before murmuring, "gamorons."

With segmented armor much like the ones that had come before, Gregor noted tinges of red and blue within their green scaled hides. They also had a multitude of eye colors. Better equipped than the snake demons he had first encountered, Gregor began to wonder about the structure of their society. The lanky dragon rider that had first issued the command, rode up beside him.

His high cheekbones, slitted black eyes, and painted face, stared down at him with utter loathing. “You have proven your strength, surfacer, and by tradition and law, you have command of the dragon riders. I am Corlain, the Captain of this company. Shall we proceed to the temple?”

A little shocked at the speed of events, Gregor did not release his greatsword, but instead asked, “how many dragon riders are there?”

His expression stiffened into one of annoyance, the lanky lizard replied, “fifty thousand, Warleader. Most of them serve in our homeland of Gorlan to the far east, while those especially selected for their abilities are commanded to guard the temple.”

Letting out a low whistle at the number, Gregor could sense Daria’s jaw fall open, before she asked in astonishment, “And you let anyone that defeats your commander to lead?!”

His left cheek twitching irritably, Corlain ignored the woman's question, but instead directed his attention to Gregor. “Did you wish me to answer her, Warleader?” His return response, caused Daria's cheeks to flush red as Gregor chuckled, “if you would.”

His head nodded as though preparing himself, Corlain replied, “It has been our way for generations, it not only ensures that the strongest are fit to serve, but that the mother is well-protected. Blessed is She-Who-Sleeps, and will one day restore this world to everlasting glory.” The words again, resounding around him.

More at ease now that he knew that they were fools, Gregor released his greatsword, and smiled darkly. “Well that is something. You may proceed, Captain.”

His slot-like nostrils flaring, the lizard warrior barked, “Forward march!” The glistening column of steel, keeping pace with Gregor as he strode up the stairs.

His thoughts back on the temple, Gregor again prayed that he would find her there, when he noticed Daria’s nervous apprehension. Surrounded on all sides by golden eyed drakes, she met the gaze of one, and shivered. Shaped like huge red scaled lizards with bony skulls that protrude outwards, they were much like dragons, but a much smaller form with no wings, and waddled from side to side. And much like their riders, they wore segmented scales that guarded their flanks, and rear. The dragon riders themselves were equipped with spears, bows, and swords.

However, as their slow procession continued upward, Gregor's curiosity peaked. “Why does the temple need to be guarded?”

Glancing over his shoulder back at him, Corlain shook his head, and rolled his eyes. “Such is the ignorance of invaders. Does your world not remember the treachery of your kind?! For eons our people existed upon Coroleya, and then your Lightbearer came, and stole it away from us! It is from you that we guard our most sacred places!” he spat. But as it dawned on Gregor about the irony of the situation. The lizard snarled, “Mother forgive us, if we had known you would defeat our best, we would have sent an army against you.”

Half smiling at that, he shot an amused glance in Daria’s direction, but whether she was distracted, or morose over her separation from Gauldryon, Gregor did not care. He had better things to think upon, such as what he would do against an army of demons. The flocks that circled the temple above, blotted out the golden staircase like a wave of impenetrable darkness, while rising up from behind were four immense golden pillars. Carved in the likeness of dragons, their skins were covered in gemstones, their wings were folded back, and their jaws were wide open. The ruby coloured eyes that stared down at him, awakened something within him, when Daria muttered, “we cannot trust them.”

Her words of warning, echoed in his mind, before they were replaced with another. A voice far more familiar to him. “You are so close now, my sweet.” The seductive sound, drawing him into a memory he did not recall…

Standing there together beneath the light of the White Star, Gregor could hear the bridge creaking softly beneath him, and could feel the dark haired sorceress press her body close to his. Her warmth, sending a chill up his spine.

Her arm wrapped around his waist, she whispered, “Remember, you must slay my brother. If he should awaken mother before her time, the whole world will be consumed. Do this, my sweet champion, and I shall grant you whatever it is that your heart desires.” Her violet coloured eyes, her enticing scent, and her pursed red lips drew him in, until he felt a hand shake him…

Blinking his eyes repeatedly in a daze, he saw Daria stare at him in worry. “You looked like you were somewhere else. Somewhere far away from here. What were you thinking about?”

Caught in a spiral of emotions, Gregor snapped, “that is none of your concern! We are nearly there!” And as he said those words, he was surprised to find out that he was right. With the great temple rising up before him, surrounded by its four guardians, Gregor felt himself shivering, and wondered if he was being led here on a string. What if everything he knew was a lie? The sorceress had done something to his mind, his memories, and yet in his heart he hoped he was wrong.

Nearing the whirl storm of blackened flesh, Gregor raised up Lost Flame, when like a veil of mist blown by a gust of wind, they split apart. The gusting breeze, flapping wings, and screeches of the demons, filled his senses as he strode along a well worn path. It was also then that he realized that the lizard riders and Daria were not with him. But instead of being deterred, he thought, that's how it should be, and continued on alone through the eye of the cyclone. Each purposeful step, taking him closer to the golden walls that shone with light, a pathway etched with runes that glowed white underneath him, and an intricately carved doorway that showed the face of an old woman, but one with no eyes.

Nearing it, he could feel her eyeless gaze upon him, when a female voice aged with years boomed out, “Speak, child. What is it you desire?”

And in the cacophony of sound as the demons swirled frantically around him, Gregor replied, “_____.”

The golden doorway split down the middle, Gregor could feel his heart beat a thousand miles per minute as it gradually slid open, before he stepped inside. The dawning silence that overwhelmed him, echoed in his mind as balls of light flooded a long hallway. With suits of armor that stood watch to either side, Gregor could feel his frustration beginning to boil at the thought of searching this entire complex. The sudden gust of air that threw him back, pounded against him like a warhammer, its voice, arrogant, and self-assured. “I should have known those worms could not keep you, but it is too late, Champion of Sarsonel. Soon I will have the power to re-awaken her. Then together we shall remake this world, and rebuild it the way it should be. Leave now, and I shall allow you to live.

Flooded with uncontrollable rage as the voice reverberated around him, Gregor roared back, “Where is she?! Where is Kira?!”

The mocking laughter that bounced off the corridor’s walls and ceiling, was his only response as the hallway became silent again.

Chest heaving at the thought that she was in danger, Gregor began to stride forward again, his mind a whirl storm of images. The hallway that stretched out before him was engraved with strange pictograms on the tiles. Distracted by his thoughts to really take notice, he took another step forward, when Sarsonel’s voice spoke to him. “Stop! The way ahead is laden with traps. Watch your step!”

Teeth gnashing at the thought of another delay, he took a moment to study the tiles in front of him. At the beginning of each row was a different character. The first was the image of a crown, the second of fire, the third of a dragon, and the last was of a bleeding eye.

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Careful to avoid the others, he lightly pressed one foot down on the tile he had chosen, and heard a soft click. Assuming of course that he had triggered a trap, he waited for a moment, and readied himself to dive. But once nothing had happened, he pressed on, and skipped over to the next, and the next one after that. And each time, he heard a soft click. Reaching the end, he leaped the last two, and arrived at a round domed chamber.

With carvings etched into the stone walls around him, he could see a simple fountain that burbled water in the middle of the room. Sure that it had to be another trap, he examined the walls, and saw a robed figure kneel down in supplication, gaze up at the ceiling, then drink from his cupped hands, pour water over his head. Only they did not seem to be in the correct order.

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Scratching his head as he released a heavy sigh, he was beginning to think he should have brought Daria along with him, when it occurred to him what the answer might be. Completing each action in turn, he let out a gasp as part of the wall vanished. But it was not the shock of seeing magic at work that took his breath away, but it was the much larger chamber ahead of him with criss-crossing streets, dozens of square white buildings, and a great orange globe that hung in the air. It reminded Gregor much of a town with different districts, architecture, and smells. Or perhaps a college of mages.

Distracted by his own thoughts, he didn’t see the white robed figure as he was beginning to walk past, when the lizard saw him, and cried out, “intruder!” The dozens of acolytes that filled the streets, immediately scurried away like rats as they screamed in terror. Not really caring one way or the other that they knew he was here, he continued through the opening in the wall. The heavy clatter of footsteps that thundered from around a corner, revealed black armored warriors in spiked plate. The slits of their horned helmets showed burning red eyes as they closed ranks, and advanced forward with polearms extended. However it was the middle ranks that Gregor was worried about, as he saw dozens of figures weave their arms in complicated spells.