Jak Koke - Stranger souls

The spirit Lethe hung in astral space and looked down upon the Dragon Heart-a solid, pulsing orb of immense power that rested in the center of an ornately carved circle. The lines and shapes of the circle had been etched into the smooth stone floor of the small chamber. Intertwining runes formed the perimeter, while intricately designed dracoforms filled the interior.

The physical design gave rise to a translucent blue and silver curtain in astral space. The hypnotic weave danced and moved, blending and shaping around the Dragon Heart. The item itself was made of a magical metal, a dull bronze color and shaped like a real four-chambered heart. Its surface was smooth and flawless, embedded into the stone, flush with the floor, right at the very center of the etched circle. The design immediately surrounding the heart was a petro-glyph of a great dragon. The image had been cut into the stone with such detailed strokes that Lethe recognized the dragon and knew him.

Dunkelzahn.

But Dunkelzahn was dead. Lethe had learned of his death by overhearing conversations. He had learned of the great explosion in a physical place called Washington FDC. But when he had gone to investigate, he had discovered a storm over the explosion site-a magical storm centered over the crater created by a bomb. At least that's what people said.

The storm had looked like a vortex of purple lightning and magenta clouds. It spanned worlds, from the physical to the astral and into the metaplanes, as though the fabric of universal reality had been torn in that tiny spot. There was no sign of Dunkelzahn, no trace or echo of him that Lethe could detect.

Now, deep in Dunkelzahn's lair, Lethe looked down at the Dragon Heart. It was his last hope to help Thayla. Perhaps Dunkelzahn's participation wasn't absolutely necessary, perhaps Thayla could use the Dragon Heart to stop the darkness from spreading.

There was only one problem; Lethe could not touch the item. Since leaving Thayla, he had grown, learned that he had many abilities, many powers. Like when he slipped past the spirits and metahumans who guarded the lair. He could move through the hypnotic curtain and interface with the power of the Dragon Heart. And when he did, it felt something like the power of Thayla's song coursing through him. The same but different; the song of the Dragon Heart was rougher, coarser. And he could tap into its power if he tried; he could use it to expand his awareness. He could use it to manipulate the temper of the ward, the very nature of the magics that made up the dragon's lair around him. But Lethe avoided using the Dragon Heart; it was like wielding the sun. Awesome and terrifying.

But despite all his new abilities, he still could not touch the smooth metal composite of the item. He had no way to physically manifest and pick it up. So it remained on the floor, firmly entrenched in the physical world. Useless to him. Useless to Thayla.

Time passed as Lethe considered his dilemma. He could try to enlist the help of another spirit or a metahuman with magical power, but he didn't know any who would come to his assistance. He didn't know anyone. Except Thayla. And she couldn't leave her place at the bridge.

Maybe another dragon? he thought. But he had no way of knowing if the other dragons could be trusted.

How much time passed before the group of metahumans entered the small chamber Lethe had no way of knowing. Four of them, tall and thin, moving quietly. Suspiciously.

Two of them glowed brightly with jewels and flares, showing power in astral space. Mages or shamans, Lethe guessed. But the others were mundane, anchored in the physical. In fact, part of each one was transparent, patches of blank spirit as though they had lost parts of themselves. Lethe saw that they appeared to have metal and plastic

permanently implanted into their bodies. He had seen a few others like that, but none so much as these two.

The two mages surveyed the perimeter of the circle, stepping along the edge as they peered at the hypnotic weave of the translucent curtain. At the ripples in the fabric of space created by the Dragon Heart.

"This is where the tracer said we should find it," one said.

"Can you break the ward?"

"I said I could, didn't I? Just watch the entrance, Liner." "How long?"

"It'll take time, even with both of us working on it."

The two mundanes stood by the entrance to the chamber, while the others started to work on the hypnotic curtain. One removed a bag from her belt and pulled fistfuls of green sand from it. She spoke some words over the sand, using Sperethiel-the language of elves. "Tan'ath lie armma diesk cycampeth waregram 'cen."

Lethe understood the words. "Obscure the power of this ward. Dull the images, the potency of what you cover."

The other magician had fashioned a spell, looking in astral space like an elaborate key made of fire and lightning. He was trying to integrate the key into the weave of the ward's curtain. Time passed as the spell advanced and retreated, advanced and retreated until it had opened a small hole in the ward.

The woman threw the green sand through this hole, the grains filling up the etched images. The fluctuating curtain grew less solid there, darkening where the sand covered the petroglyphs. Until there was a narrow tunnel through the ward.

All the way to the Dragon Heart.

"I'm in," said the woman.

"About time," Liner said.

The woman created a simple spell that Lethe watched eagerly. The spell reached out and lifted the Dragon Heart from its place, cradled by a bower of magic. Telekinesis. If Lethe could learn that magic, maybe he could move the item. He watched the item float on the spell's current, hovering over the trail of green sand, through the tunnel-the weakened space in the ward-and out into her hands.

"Got it." She carefully turned it over in her two hands for a

minute, mesmerized. The Dragon Heart looked large in the elf's cradling grasp, easily the size of her head. "Seems to be solid orichalcum," she said. "Sheila will be pleased."

"Does it include the charmed orichalcum we sold to the wyrm?"

"Most likely, but it's impossible to tell now. When this item was created, the tracing charm was destroyed." "The item is active?" "Most certainly." "Good. Let's go," said Liner.

"Yeah, I'm getting edgy," the other mundane warrior agreed.

The mage put the item into her shoulder bag and nodded to the others. Then they were gone, moving rapidly through the twisting tunnels, the maze of corridors in the depths of the lair. Lethe followed, unsure of what to do. Should he stop them? Should he follow them? Who were these people?

Something happened then. An alarm sounded and many guards and spirits came. Total confusion. Shots fired and lots of magic. Lethe watched attentively, keeping close track of the Dragon Heart, but he did not interfere. The elves who had taken the item made quick time out the maze of tunnels to a narrow staircase that climbed up through the rock.

They killed anyone who tried to stop them, something that seemed wrong to Lethe. The meaningless destruction of lives. They were nearing the exit, preparing to fight the small group of guards, when Lethe caught sight of someone…

Someone different.

She was an elf, seemingly, and she was in a position of authority. Lethe was inexplicably drawn to her. Such charisma, such beauty.

She stood in an adjoining corridor at the center of a group of people. Drawing him to her with her commanding presence. In the physical, she was unadulterated, lovely. Elegant with her porcelain skin, emerald eyes, raven-black hair.

She was fully in command of those around her as she spoke to an ork, tall and dark with more of those blank patches in his corporeal spirit. "What's going on, Jeremy?"

"Brooks says that a small group has infiltrated the lower levels," Jeremy said. "But the treasury seems untouched."