Al’vathazen led us down a series of corridors, each ever so slightly narrower than the last. For me and the children, it made little difference, but the same couldn’t be said about our guide. By the end of it, the azure dragon’s posture had become hunched, his head bowed as he struggled to pass through the cramped tunnels.

It made me wonder if there was some meaning to this display. Some sort of show of deference before the dragon monarch? A way for her to force her supplicants to bow their heads? Such a measure seemed odd, given that it only worked on other dragons.

Was there something I was missing?

I nearly stepped on his tail as he halted. I peered past him, identifying the reason for his pause. We’d reached a literal bottleneck, and the young dragon could go no further. Al’vathazen turned his head and scrunched his nose.

“I’m really sorry,” he said, and his air of haughtiness was gone, replaced by the awkward gangliness of youth. It quickly became obvious that under his scales, his cheeks were red with embarrassment. “I was going to show you all the way to Mother, but I didn’t realize I didn’t fit through the tunnels after my last growth spurt.”

“Aww, don’t worry about it,” Alexis said, patting him on the back. “It’s okay. I’m sure we can find our way, if you tell us where to go.”

He nodded. “It’s not hard — the tunnel leads all the way to Mother’s chambers. My kind, we usually take the flying route. This tunnel, it’s meant for hatchlings…” At this point, the blush in his cheeks had defeated the blue of his scales, turning his whole face an odd shade of purple.

Hatchling routes. That did make more sense than a display of dominance, I supposed.

Al’vathazen shuffled backwards, squeezing past us with remarkable dexterity. “I’ll go back and come the other way. Please wait for me!”

The sound of claws clattering on stone disappeared shortly, and David finally let loose the laughter he’d been holding back. Sarah punched him in the shoulder.

“Don’t be mean. He’s a good guy,” she said, her grin reaching her ears.

Sarah’s voice was nearly a shrill as she said, “But he’s so cute!”

“And older than you,” Cam pointed out.

Shiro disagreed. “Doesn’t matter; still a baby dragon.”

“Honestly, guys, I can die happy now,” Sarah said, lifting her visor to fan her face.

We continued down the tunnel, in silence aside from Sarah’s occasional whisper shouts of ‘Baby! Dragon!’

A few more minutes of walking later, the tunnel opened wide, blinding us with the sudden light of day. Once my eyes were finally adjusted, I was met with the most beautiful creature I had ever seen.

I wasn’t sure when I’d activated my Soul Sight, let alone when I’d empowered it with Origin, but magic shone around the crimson dragoness, it’s intensity rivalling the sun. Flows of all aspects danced around her, along with thick ropes of Origin — more than I’d ever seen before, and infinitely more than I could handle. If that was her might, then she could end us all with a stray thought.

A cold pang of fear ran through my spine, and for a moment, I wondered if perhaps I’d just killed us all.

But when she spoke, the Matriarch’s voice was kindly, soothing — like the soft tones of the mother I’d never known. She spoke quietly, but even so, I felt her voice echo in my chest. “You can see them, can you not? The chains that bind me here?”

A haze of confusion took me. Chains? Who would bind one such as her? Who could bind the Queen of Dragons?

The answer became evident as I focused again on the flows of magic.

The thick ropes of Origin I had seen were ropes in truth. She was bound, though the bindings were somehow gentle. To my magic enhanced vision, she was bound to the ground, the ropes tying her wings tight to her body, and her arms and legs to each other.

“They took away your wings…” I whispered.

She smiled, a throaty chuckle escaping from her lips as she raised a wing and gave it an easy flap. The casual gesture sent a strong gust of wind our way, and I had to squint to keep away the dust. “Only in a sense. I can fly with my body, still. I have that much left to me. But everything else…”

“They did this to you, didn’t they?”

She tilted her head. “Who is this ‘they’ you speak of?”

“The gods. It was them, wasn’t it?” Pieces were beginning to fall into place.

She chuckled again. “So quick you are to jump to conclusions. Perhaps it was them. Perhaps it was not. Don’t be so quick to assign blame where you lack all the facts. I will answer your questions, but let us do things in their proper order, shall we?”

“Of course. You have my apology.”

“Oh my god, you’re so pretty,” Sarah stammered out, peeking from behind Winnie. I hadn’t even noticed the children as they stared wide-eyed at the Matriarch.

The dragoness smiled at the knight. “Hah! Thank you, child. But right now, there are things we need to discuss.”

Sarah motioned her lips shut and took a step back.

“I have heard your introduction when you set foot on this island, Julian Crane, Archmagus of the Continent, Dark Lord of Ravenrock — and I shall meet it in kind.” She spread her wings out, rising to her full height — as tall as my tower, and then some. Her wings were like gossamer in the light, and her eyes sparked like rubies. “I am Miranavisr, Matriarch of the Dragons, First of my kind and the eldest being on this wretched rock. I welcome you and your kin in my humble abode.”

As she said the last words, I finally realized where exactly we were. Surrounded by rocky outcrops on all sides, the cracked, vitreous ground beneath us could be only one thing — the caldera of the Dragon’s Eye.

Uncertain how to proceed, I decided to play it safe. “I thank you for your hospitality, Your Majesty.”

Again, she smiled. “I’ve long grown tired of formalities. Please, you may call me Miranavisr. Or Mira, if you prefer.”

“Miranavisr, then. And you may call me Julian,” I said with a nod.

“Perfect. Now, I’m sure you have questions — but first, I would like to know how much you have uncovered by yourself, so that I may correct any misunderstandings.”

I told her what I’d learned from Renaris, and what I’d managed to piece together on my own — how the gods summoned Heroes from another world and twisted them to their purpose, the links between Origin mana and the System, and even about the dungeon cores and how the System interacted with the world. My words flowed freely, my forthcomingness surprising even myself. For whatever reason, I found it easy to talk with the Dragon Queen, and she listened patiently as I regaled her with my tale.

Throughout, I felt a handful of slight tugs on my cloak, but the only one near me was Alexis, who was paying no attention to me, focused instead on studying Miranavisr.

Every so often, the dragoness would interrupt me to ask a question or two, but she otherwise listened patiently.

Once I was done, I felt as if a burden had been taken off my shoulders — a burden I’d never known was there. I had never realized how tense I’d become since the beginning of this… adventure, so to speak — how much stress had built up in my mind. Yet now, simply the act of opening up to this dragon I’d never met before—

And like a broken dam, the spell broke — not even a real spell, as I couldn’t feel any Mind mana near me, or in fact, any mana at all. But something had taken hold of me, that was for sure. Why else would I spill so many of my secrets to a being I’d only known for minutes? The tugs on my cloak suddenly made much more sense — Alexis’s knack for resisting mind control must have alerted her to Miranavisr’s manipulations.

The sense of calm disappeared as if washed by the tide, and I took a step back as I whispered, “What did you do?”

Miranavisr’s eyes widened fractionally — surprised to see me break free of her manipulation? But her voice betrayed nothing — nothing but confusion. “What do you mean?”

Behind me, I felt the children tense, shuffling quietly to ready their weapons.

A million questions swam through my mind. Why the duplicity, when she was already so much more powerful than me? What did she stand to gain from this? Why would she pretend not to know?

Alexis stepped forward, anger seeping from her voice. “You were controlling us. You… you made him tell you all that.”

Miranavisr’s eyes widened further. “Child—”

“You’re still doing it,” Alexis edged in. I noticed, then, that the young archer was trembling. From anger, I wondered? Or was it—

Fear.

“Cease whatever you are doing now,” I ordered, drawing Mind and Origin to my limit, forming a quick but sturdy shield around our group. I still wasn’t sure what her strange magic was, but surely a shield this size would stop it.

And it did. The sense of calm I’d had since I entered the room disappeared, and I realized just how insidious whatever magic she’d worked had been. Its effect was singular — it eased worries, making them melt into nothing. And like that, she created trust where there was no reason for any to exist.

I could feel the effect being held at bay by my magic, and through this contact, I could just barely taste it. I had missed it at first because none of the usual aspects were involved — it was a construct of pure Origin. And more importantly, this Origin mana did not belong to the dragoness.

Miranavisr’s face was still a mask of confusion — was she truly not responsible? But just as I began to wonder if perhaps she was innocent, the spell disappeared.

The Dragon Queen closed her eyes. “I am truly sorry. I only now just realized what you were speaking of.”

My shoulders tensed. “It was your spell, then?” It was gone, now, but I kept the shielding in place.

She tilted her head from one side to the other and sighed. “What you felt was not a spell, not in the proper sense of the word — but it was mine, yes. I apologize.”

“You tried to control us,” Alexis said through clenched teeth.

“Please believe me, that was never my intention. This aura is something I’ve had for so long I’ve forgotten to ever turn it off. Its purpose is not to control, but to soothe. To bring peace.”

Alexis looked ready to give the dragoness a piece of her mind, but Sarah tapped her on her back, shaking her head when Alexis glanced over her shoulder. She relaxed just a smidgen.

“You’ll understand if we can’t simply accept your words so easily. You know what these children have been through,” I said with more than a little bitterness. She’d gotten that out of me, but it hadn’t been my story to tell.

Miranavisr sighed. “I do. I wanted to do things in their proper order, but it seems to be too late for that. I will explain to you, then, this ability of mine, and show you why Renaris sent you to me. Please do not be alarmed.”

She raised one of her arms and I tightened my control on the shield. Whatever she was going to do, I wanted to be ready.

Yet no attack came. Instead, a blue box appeared before Miranavisr — much like the ones I’d seen before, but sized for a hundred-foot tall dragon. She flipped it over so that the text faced us.

Soothing Presence — A mother knows best, and may her brood never forget that. Class Skill — Active (Status: Off) — Level 20 An aura surrounds you, easing the burdens of all friendly creatures in its area. You may control its radius and intensity. Maximum radius and intensity scale with skill level.

“You see,” she said with a small nod, “Heroes and Villains aren’t the only ones on this world who know of this secret. Let us speak, then, of levels and Systems.”