Damon gave up any lingering hope of maintaining his sense of direction as they continued forward. The corridor remained relatively contained, a single path that twisted and turned and eventually began to slope in a spiral downward, much as how it had in the dungeon’s beginning.
But they weren’t at the beginning, and he knew that no maze, however complex, was without end. As they made their way around the last curve of the spiral, a long, open corridor stretched out ahead of them, lit at the far end by an intensely bright sphere of energy, floating atop an obsidian pillar.
“There,” said Myr, voice trembling. “That’s it. The Ocean Klykia.”
Damon was about to grin and announce the triumph to the others when someone stepped out into the open on the far side of the hallway, moving to stand between them and their goal. Malon’s hair hung loose, unbraided, and her eyes gave off a faint crimson glow.
“…Aesta?” called Damon. He already knew, if not from her appearance, then from that horrible heaviness in his heart.
“The game is over, solas,” she called back. “I let you have your fun for as long as I could. Despite my own reservations, I even joined in. It was naïve of us all to believe that this endeavor was a thing worth pursuing.”
“Aesta, what are you saying?” shouted Vel.
“She is saying whatever Lascivious chooses to have her say!” snapped Ria.
She surged forward, making to sprint down the hallway. Damon got his arms around her shoulders and pulled her back, lifting her off her feet.
“The condensed essence was enough to attract Seffi’s attention,” said Malon. “This is true. She is too far away to affect the passage of events here in person, but through her will, she made the situation clear to me. I don’t wish to cause any harm, but I cannot allow you to meddle with the Ocean Klykia.”
“You bitch!” hissed Ria.
She thrashed, trying to pull free of Damon’s grip. He squeezed her tighter, bringing his mouth in close to her ear.
“This isn’t her!” he said. “Lascivious has taken control. Aesta is being used as her puppet.”
“She took that crest willingly!” shouted Ria. “She made her choices! I warned you of this, Damon, again and again.”
“Leave this place,” called Malon, ignoring their struggle. “Head back onto the ship. I’ll join you in a few hours’ time, and we’ll make the journey home without bloodshed.”
Damon finally managed to pull Ria back. He took a step forward, glancing over his shoulder to make sure Ria wouldn’t charge past him and further complicate the situation.
“No,” he called. “Aesta, you should know by now that I’ve already learned my lesson in making deals with the Forsaken.”
“Solas,” she whispered. “Don’t do this. Don’t throw your life away.”
He took another step forward. “That’s not what she intends by forcing you to make this stand, is it? She’s using you as a hostage. Forcing us to choose between confronting the source of the Forsaken’s power and staying whole as a family.”
“Damon!” shouted Ria. “You can’t face her alone!”
He gritted his teeth and gave her a stern look. “I’m the only one of us who stands any chance. Ria, I know you want to be a part of this but… stay back. You’ll only get in my way.”
It was a hard truth, but one he desperately hoped she could accept. She’d seen Malon use her magic more than enough to understand what she could do in a narrow corridor with so much space separating her from her targets. Damon knew he was the only one who had a chance at matching her strength.
He took another step forward, holding his arms in front of him, primed but unthreatening. He approached his aesta like he might have a startled animal, though the power she could bring to bear was on an altogether different level.
Malon closed her eyes, bowed her head slightly, then glared at him, eyes blazing. She thrust her hand forward, sending a skull-sized ball of fire hurtling down the corridor and straight at his chest.
Damon had plenty of time to make a shield of ice. The fire hissed into a wave of humid steam as the two elements collided and nullified. He wasn’t sure what to make of her apparent restraint. He wanted to think that the real Malon, his aesta, was fighting back from within. It was dangerous to think that.
“Stop with this foolishness,” she called, almost tauntingly. “Turn around. Walk away. Seize your chance to abandon this quest with your life.”
“Tempting,” he said, forcing a smile. “But… I think not.”
He took another step forward, moving his leg slowly, setting his foot down as though testing tile for a hidden trap. The danger which resulted from that step was just as pronounced, if more immediate and obvious.
Malon unleashed a larger fire blast, a full-on body of flame that hissed down the hallway with twice as much speed as the previous. Damon crossed his arms as he formed another ice shield, wincing as he struggled to match the heat with cold. The steam stung his face and forced his eyes closed as it blew over him.
“Damon!” screamed Vel.
“I’m alright.” He blinked his eyes open, aware Malon could have killed him in that moment if she’d truly wanted. Malon, his aesta, or the Red Sorceress… which was he even facing?
“I know it’s you,” he shouted down the corridor. “Not completely. I can see it in your eyes, aesta. Not the glow, but what lies beneath it. Fight her, not me!”
“You can think what you will, solas, but…” She blinked, wincing and clutching a hand to her chest. “…changes nothing. I’m afraid you simply don’t understand as much as you think you do.”
With a wave of her hand, she sent an entire wall of flame charging toward him, the type of attack suited for torching a city, or incinerating a battalion. It was too much for him, impossible to block given how thin he’d have to spread his ice.
He risked a glance over his shoulder. Ria and the others had pulled around the corner to safety. It was just him, his body, that he would need to worry about, but protecting that would still take some doing.
He froze himself in a statuesque shell of ice, ignoring the bite of the cold, the whisper of claustrophobia of being encased so tightly. He still felt the heat of the flames, and the sensation demanded his attention in a way that would have made him scream, had his mouth not been frozen shut.
Steam hissed as the flames passed beyond him. Water and bits of ice dripped from his face and clothing. A loose corner of his undershirt had been partially outside the ice shell and was now smoldering, the smell like burnt hair. He quickly patted it out.
“You fool!” snapped Malon. “Turn back!” Her eyes pulsed red, flickering momentarily. “Please, solas…”
“I can’t,” he said. “We both know that.”
Slowly, Damon drew his sword, haunted by the sound of the naked metal sliding loose from the sheath. It hurt in a way that went beyond anything he could have imagined, a living, waking nightmare.
Malon shook her head, face scrunching up in a manner that mirrored so much of what Damon was feeling, himself. Her hands jerked forward as if drawn by invisible strings, a puppet twitching to its master’s tune.
Flames filled the hallway, an inferno of pain and emotion. Damon clenched his teeth, pushing so much cold and ice that he could hear the echo of Myr gasping with effort. He had to hold that level of power, as though he was forming the shield anew every second, just to survive.
Blisters bubbled across his palm and knuckles. He shut his eyes, the heat too much for them, though he doubted he would have seen much even if he’d forced them open. He took another step forward, despite the intensity of the objections coming from every exposed inch of his skin.
And then, he was through to the other side, no more than a stride away from her, sword still at the ready. He lifted his arm, staring into those familiar, yet unfamiliar eyes. She lifted her hand, wisps of condensed essence swirling to do her bidding as she readied another spell.
Damon knew how fast she was, how quick it would be over. He pulled his weapon back, aching in the face of what he knew must come next. He opened his hand and let the blade clatter to the stone just as his aesta cast her spell.
I won’t fight you, aesta. I love you too much. If you have to kill me, so be it.
The moment stretched into a dreamy, indecisive haze. Tufts of fire formed around Malon’s hand, the first stirring of what would surely be fire on a level above anything she’d previously released. Her mouth fell open, as though she couldn’t believe what she was watching herself do. Damon gave her a small, forgiving nod.
Malon gasped, yanking her hand up at the last possible instant. Fire shot upward, though much of the spell’s force was already lost in the face of her waning focus. Damon hurled himself forward, arms outstretched, and hugged her.
“Aesta,” he said. “I’m right here.”
She seized and trembled within his arms. She brought her mouth down on his shoulder, biting into it like a soldier might bite a piece of leather under the pain of a surgeon’s saw. Damon held her tight, as though his arms could protect her from the world. From herself, if need be.
He heard footsteps, but he was still caught off guard when another set of arms wrapped around the two of them, and then another. Vel and Ria were hugging him and Malon with just as much fear and concern. They were both crying, breathing raggedly, emotions pooling and overflowing.
“We’re here, aesta,” said Vel.
“All of us,” said Ria. “Aesta.”
“Damon!” cried Myr. “The Ocean Klykia! Do it now!”
He gently extricated himself from his family, hoping they could manage without him for a minute. “Do what?”
“Ice!” cried Myr, her voice verging on a screech. “Cover it with ice!”
He was skeptical, to the say the least, but she could have told him to take a piss on the glowing sphere that was the Ocean Klykia and he would have believed her. Trust was a pathway in moments of crisis.
The sphere was hard to look directly at, like the sun on a clear summer day, and it emitted a constant, low hum of power. Damon channeled ice around it, feeling, more than observing what he was doing. Myr whispered advice in his ear, though it was vague and somewhat unhelpful.
“More,” she whispered. “A little deeper. Almost… There!”
There was a loud crack like splitting timber accompanied by a flash of bright light, and a naked woman was suddenly on the ground in front of him. The Ocean Klykia let out a soft hiss like a recently quenched fire, giving off only a dim light compared to a moment earlier.
“What just happened?” he muttered.
The woman groaned and sat up. She had blue hair and mostly familiar features. It was Myr, except Myr in human form, rather than as an ice elemental, pale skinned and youthful.
“It worked!” Myr started laughing and rolled around on the stone floor like a girl in a pile of leaves. “I have a body!”
“Um… Who is that?” asked Vel. “And why is she naked?”
“Two naked, reborn women in one day,” muttered Damon. “If this keeps up, I’m going to start running out of clothing.”
He took his undershirt of and handed it to her, though she seemed completely unconcerned by her exposed state. Damon flexed his hands, attempting a quick test to see if he could still use his magic. Nothing.
“Solas.” Malon was sitting on the floor, and she brushed a few strands of hair from her face. “You did it.”
She gave a smile, small and knowing, full of wonder and love. Damon walked over and crouched down in front of her.
“You’re… sure?” he said. “My magic seems to be dampened, but is your crest…?”
“Look for yourself.” She turned around, lifting up her tunic to reveal her lower back. Lascivious’s crest, which had once looked like a surreal tattoo, shiny and smooth, was now closer to a faded scar. He traced a finger over it, causing Malon to suck in a breath and arch her back.
“Your hand is cold,” she said.
“Well, some things never change,” he said, grinning.
Vel and Lilian were helping Myr up and figuring out how to best parcel out their clothing to cover everyone. Ria watched Damon and Malon, brow scrunched up into a suspicious furrow.
“We have done it, then?” said Ria. “This feels… simpler than the final conflict I was expecting.”
“We didn’t set out in search of a fight,” said Damon. “If we had… Where would we be right now? We won through love and trust, as a family, rather than through fighting and weapons. It might not be as climactic as what you envisioned, Ria, but to me it feels…”
He shrugged, searching for the right words.
“It feels fitting, for us,” Malon finished for him. “I agree, solas.”
Damon put an arm around her. Lilian and Vel brought Myr, now clad in Damon’s undershirt and possibly Vel’s girlshorts, over to the two of them.
“You did so well, Damon,” said Myr, flashing a surprisingly dimpled smile.
“Thanks. We did it together, though.” He reached out to shake her hand, which felt small within his. “What’ll you do now?”
“To be honest, I never expected that this would actually happen,” said Myr, shaking her head. “I have no real plan for what comes next.”
“Come with us, then,” suggested Vel.
“I also think that’s a fine idea,” said Lilian. “I suppose the two of us share a birthday, of sorts. I’m still considering what I’ll do with my newfound humanity.”
“Hold on…” said Damon. “If I can’t use my magic, how, exactly, are we going to get past the lava blocking the pathway out?”
He felt several sets of eyes lock onto him in response to his rather troubling question.
“That was a side effect of the Ocean Klykia,” said Myr. “Do you truly think I would have led you through this only to be trapped forever? It won’t be the only effect that the dampening will have on the world.”
“No, it will not,” said Ria quietly. “Much has changed for everyone, with this. The revenants… they will truly be gone from Veridan’s Curve and the Malagantyan?”
“Not as much gone as, well, defeated,” said Myr. “I’d say dead, but by most definitions, they were already dead. Someone will still have to clean up the bodies.”
“Better cleaning up the bodies of monsters than the bodies of innocent men and women,” said Damon.
“If that truly is so, I suppose I will help my people resettle our lands,” said Ria. “In time. I think I deserve some time to rest. Would you not agree, husband?”
Damon grinned and put his other arm around her, drawing her close. “Whole heartedly.”
He looked from Malon on his other side, head leaned against his shoulder, to Ria, with his matridai marks on her face, to Vel and Lilian and Myr, the three of them whispering like teenage girls in an expensive marketplace.
“Come on,” he said. “Let’s go home.”