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Looks like there's another person to convince now. And also a bit more violence.

Icon art from the Fardon reference by Billie/FeatheryFlukes

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Chapter 24 - Bad News

"So, what are you going to do?" Fardon demanded, staring at Lord Thurr with his head tilted in suspicion. "Let us go? Kill us while we're distracted with your Zeelah act?"

"You're free to leave," Thurr sighed. "I will see to that personally. Though I do have two requests to make of you."

"...I see. What are your terms?" Fardon asked cautiously.

"First, I want to open a diplomatic channel with Taria," the dragon-lord said. "Also, since it seems I'm going to be stuck here for the foreseeable future, I would like the belongings brought here from my lair in Eastgate. I will reimburse the cost myself."

"Those are definitely points in your favour," Fardon admitted.

"Thank you. I'll try not to let you down, Sir Fardon, but please remember, Thurr has been steering this ship for nearly 22 centuries. Changing course will have to be done very carefully to avoid a coup or some other kind of power vacuum. But if I can mandate vegetables as part of the state-promoted diet, that should at least calm the majority down and make them more accepting of future, more progressive reforms."

"What about the Pax Draconica?" Vinny asked.

"If I could, I would sign it tonight," the lord sighed. "But if doing so triggers a civil war, what have we gained?"

"I understand," Mermul said. "And I believe you now, Zeelah. Thurr would never plan for such an event."

"But remember, there are other dragon supremacists out there, too..." the dragon-lord said. "Even if peace is declared with Taria, there are still others who would threaten the Pax Draconica..."

"Aaah!" Fiskul screamed. The Devourer had awoken to the sight of Mermul's piked head - the other having fallen to the floor. They sprang up and turned to face Lord Thurr, eyes blazing with fury.

"I'll destroy you!" the small dragon raged. "You murdered my f-friend! My lover! I'll devour you, and all of your..."

"STOP!" Mermul roared.

"M-Mermul...?!" the Devourer turned to see the blue-grey fluff dragon standing there, and his eyes bugged. "But... but..."

"Calm down, Fisk," the fluff-dragon said in a soothing voice, "Calm down, dear friend. It's okay, it's okay. I'm fine, but please calm down. Attacking him would ruin everything."

"But... NO!" the Devourer wailed. "You've gone over to Lord Thurr?!"

"Don't be silly," Mermul said firmly. "But things have changed while you were out of it... a compromise has been reached. Lord Thurr is sending us back to Taria to open diplomatic relations with him. I will explain the details on the way home, as the situation is still a little delicate."

Fiskul just stared, eyes narrowing suspiciously. "Firstly, that sounds too good to be true. Secondly, that's definitely Mermul's head on the pike," he added stubbornly. "And you're not acting like him... even if you do sound like him. Who are you?!"

"I am Mirmjolnar the Slain," the frost-dragon said, sadly, picking up his other piked head, and propping it next to the one that Fiskul had seen. "But am I also still Mermul... and I do still love you, Fisk...."

Fiskul's jaw dropped open. "You mean...? You... got sent back...?"

"Once you thanked Alkrash for sending you a friend," Mermul said. "And I know how much you feared I would leave you forever, going where you can't follow, as so many of your friends have done before.
"But now the Great One has sent you, not just a friend, but a partner, who can stay by your side for as long as you need."

Fardon stared, astonished, as the Devourer of All Things lay on the ground, sobbing uncontrollably.

* * *

"So, let me get this straight," Fiskul sniffed, as they padded out of the castle. "Alkrash gave you powers like mine, but to heal instead of destroy? And Lord Thurr now has Zeelah's soul?"

"Yes," Mermul said. "The real Lord Thurr is trapped in the invulnerability bracelet, where he can contemplate his folly for the foreseeable future. And the other souls he devoured have been freed, may Alkrash guide them home. Vinny was shot in the face, but I breathed life back into him. I killed Narkath in a duel, brought him back, and now he insists on serving me. So I've asked him to keep an eye on Thurr for me."

"It's a lot to take in," Fiskul said, eyeing Mermul with an expression of awe. "And you renew when you die..?"

"You've seen my heads," Mermul sighed. "It took a few deaths before Lord Thurr got the message. If it's all the same to you, I'd rather not demonstrate that particular ability."

"Later maybe," Fiskul joked. "If it's true, we've got plenty of time ahead of us."

"Mermul, I do have to ask," Fardon interrupted worriedly, "We've seen Lord Thurr undergo a mind transplant. But what about you? You're so... different! Are you still the same Mermul I knew...? Did dying so many times affect your mind...? You're not sharing souls with someone else, or damaged or anything?"

"No I'm not," Mermul said. Then looked a little flustered. "Er... Not sharing souls, I mean! I really am Mermul, Fardon. Some of it was a brave front to keep Lord Thurr off-balance, but I really do have more control over my emotions, and I do have a lot less to fear now."

"I believe you," Fardon smiled. "Yes, that flustered look is definitely the Mermul I know. But... Well, you have changed."

"It's like growing up," Mermul said. "And I'm sorry if my childishness was part of the charm. Though that is still in there too," he grinned nervously. "But you're right, that... well, things have changed.
"Before, I looked up to you as my protector, and you said that you would do that until I found my wings. Now I have, and I no longer need your protection. In fact, you are more likely to need mine, and I will gladly provide it," the fluff-dragon finished, placing a red-clawed hand on Fardon's shoulder.

"Thanks," Fardon said, looking embarrassed. "You... You could always go back to Arcaia, you know..." he added, "Now Lord Thurr is unlikely to invade it, now that you no longer have to fear his wrath..."

"It's tempting," Mermul said, sighing wistfully, and looking a lot like his old self. "But... I think I have outgrown it. I have a luxury villa in Taria now, friends there, and a calling. I think I can do more good in Taria, than trying to relive my youth in Arcaia, so to speak. "Though I will definitely visit there to give my thanks."
"As I told Lord Varl, I wanted to be a healer, a medic... and now I am. I want to put that power to good use - the gods have given it to me for a reason, after all... Oh!"

"What's the matter?" Fardon asked, looking at the fluff-dragon curiously.

"Fiskul, Lord Thurr killed two of your friends, didn't he?" Mermul said. "Vulthur and that Roberts guy...? If we can get to their bodies quickly, I... I can try and use my power on them."

"Oh!" the black dragon looked astonished. "I... I would like to try that."

"I can't make any promises," Mermul said. "I don't know how long I have before resurrection is impossible. But if you want me to try..."

"We'll go there as soon as we can," Fardon promised.

"I just thought of something else," Mermul added nervously. "About my powers. Bishop Ferdinand might try to have me killed as a force of darkness or something, if I raise the dead! Is it safe for people to know about this...? Is Fiskul going to get a demonstration of my self-healing when I'm executed for necromancy or something...?"

"That would suck," Fiskul said. "But I can make it suck for him too, if he tries a stunt like that. Go ahead and use your powers, Mermul. Mine aren't really geared to make the world a better place, but yours are. At least for some."

"Please don't hurt him," Mermul said anxiously. "I'd have to put him back together and that won't help allay his fears."

* * *

Narkath watched from his usual spot in the throne room as Lord Thurr summoned Marshall into his presence. Her presence? Their presence? The enforcer was no longer sure. Nonetheless, The Lord Mermul had instructed him to keep an eye on things in his absence, and he was sworn to obey.

The Hunter arrived, causing a shiver to run down Narkath's spine, like most dragons present. This was the man who would send them to a painful demise if Lord Thurr saw fit to command it, and he enjoyed it far too much.

"Ah, Marshall..." the red dragon said, eyeing the Hunter dispassionately. "I am afraid I have some bad news for you. Your services are no longer required."

The human looked stunned. "You what?!"

"Oh don't give me that," Thurr said, eyeing the human with an expression of mild contempt. "You know that in every dictatorship there will be purges as people fall out of favour... Well, now it's your turn. And I am being generous... for while purges are usually messy, bloody affairs - in recognition of your long service, you'll get to keep your head!"

"...But why?!"

"I am changing strategy," Thurr said simply. "New alliances have become necessary, and your presence in this realm will hinder those policies, I'm afraid. You will have to leave this land, I'm sorry to say... But I shall give you time to settle your affairs."

"You... You treacherous worm!" Marshall shouted. "After all I've done for you?! I should never have trusted a fucking dragon!"

Lord Thurr scowled. "Do not test my patience, Hunter. I want you out of my realm in two tendays. Or else."

"You've gone mad," the human snapped.

"One tenday," Thurr hissed dangerously. "Now get out, before I bite your head off."

Marshall stormed out of the throne room. The guards looked at each other, and cast nervous glances at Thurr.

"Lord," Narkath asked. "I have a question..."

The other guards backed away, trying to distance themselves from the champion in case Thurr killed them too for this impertinence.

"...Right. Who will replace Marshall as lord high executioner?" Thurr prompted, without looking. "Something like that, yes...?"

"Yes, Lord. If I may be so bold..."

"You may," Lord Thurr shrugged his wings. "I am expecting a sharp drop in the number of executions going forward, and should be able to manage them by myself. After all, if we dragons are such superior creatures, our lives should be protected, not wasted, right...? I should have..."

At that moment, Marshall ran into the room, brandishing a dragon-spear.

"Die, worm!" he shrieked, lunging at Lord Thurr's face as he tried to stab the spear into the dragon-lord's eye, to force it through to the brain.

Lord Thurr jerked his head instinctively and the spear missed its mark, skittering over the scales of his long snout. Narkath's wing lashed out and knocked the Hunter aside, the spear's long blade scraping down across Thurr's face before the the haft finally snapped under the human's weight as he fell.

"Do not kill him!" Thurr roared, as Narkath and the other guards prepared to disassemble the Hunter.

"But he tried to assassinate you!" Narkath protested. "He must die for this treason!"

"You forget, as he did, that I wear a protection bracelet," Lord Thurr said, raising one hand. "But as for dying..." the dragon-lord laughed evilly, causing the guards to cringe visibly. "Believe me... he will."

* * *

A massive crowd of dragons had gathered in the square outside Lord Thurr's palace, as Marshall was led up the scaffold by a pair of dwarf dragons, each about the size of a car. A small guillotine awaited him, and the words "Human Splitter" had been scrawled across the top in white paint.

He surveyed the crowd for a moment before the guards pushed him, and he was soon lying face-down, staring into a waiting basket.

I guess I did this to enough of them, Marshall thought. Fair's fair...

Mere moments later, he was lying in the head-basket, vision tunnelling to black and the judgement of his gods. The last thing he heard on the mortal plane was the triumphant roar of a hundred excited dragons.

Standing beside Lord Thurr, Narkath looked at the dragon-lord in wonder. Lord Mermul will never believe this, he thought. Perhaps there can be peace with Taria after all...