It had been two days since Taekwoon had disappeared. Two terrible days in which Chaerin had withdrawn into herself, full of pain and guilt. Fei had been at least temporarily exiled from her rider and the gold was despondent as a result. And all the dragons felt off kilter regarding the loss of Jongup and circumstances under which they’d happened. Insoo wasn’t sure he had all the answers but Gunwoo had told him everything he’d been able to. He’d let the dragons question Fei and though he hadn’t liked the answers, he had no reason to believe any of them were lying. Including the gold…

            He was annoyed with Chaerin for not sharing what had happened to her before, but he couldn’t hold it too much against her. She had not been absolved of her guilt in what happened, directly or otherwise, but it was obvious she was punishing herself enough for all of them. And her very genuine surprise at how things turned out had gone a long way in convincing the other riders that she hadn’t actually wished harm on one of their own.

            They were all still shocked about it, but there was little they could do. The fact that Tiamat had apparently taken them, with help from a silver dragon he thought might have been familiar, didn’t help any at all. In fact, it was because it was Tiamat that he’d insisted they cross the seas the next day. They’d already learned the hard way there was nothing they could do to stop the dragon god. As much as he hated to leave a dragon and rider behind, it was the only thing he could do. That didn’t make him feel any better about the situation.

            It actually worsened the feeling of seeing their home continent showing effects of a water wall as well. Talongrace was gone with only stone remains left where buildings and structures should have been. Much like in Kinshire, debris and torn trees littered the coast and as far as they’d made it inland. Since they’d only left that morning, the distance wasn’t great but it wasn’t encouraging either. And all of it made Insoo feel particularly helpless. Especially as he could practically feel the underlying fear and uncertainty taking root in the rest of his riders.

            They are worried we might act like Fei, Gunwoo sighed in mild irritation.

            Has someone said as much? Insoo wondered, careful to keep his gaze straight ahead.

            No. But the feeling is there. The dragons are worried their riders might act like Chaerin… he added hesitantly, almost afraid to mention it.

            Insoo winced and had to fight a surge of frustration. Don’t worry, Woo. I would never forsake you, he promised with all the sincerity he could muster. And I can’t speak for everyone, but I’m pretty sure at least most of our riders feel the same way.

            I know this, but it doesn’t change the fear, he exhaled, the feeling almost resentful.

            Insoo could understand the sentiment. It was very likely because they had been bound to humans that the dragons could feel that way at all. Wilds did not struggle with such emotions or thoughts after all. Well, just let me know if anything changes. Right now, all we have to do is get home. We can figure everything out from there. Whatever that’ll mean, he murmured in a lackluster voice.

            I will try, his copper agreed softly, each wing beat carrying them closer to home.

            Personally, Insoo hoped they’d be able to make it without anything else happening. After everything, he wasn’t about to hold his breath exactly, but he could hope. Unfortunately… hope was a fickle and fragile thing.

            Gain is coming, Gunwoo announced suddenly, prompting Insoo to pull his attention from the horizon.

            He couldn’t see the Aerie yet, though there was a mound in the distance that could have been it. The shadow beyond the mound was a bit more concerning though. But he needed to see what Gain’s concern was first. The fact she was coming closer without speaking through Gunwoo from a distance was significant and Insoo didn’t like what it could mean. He turned just in time to see her pull abreast of them, her golden hide dim in the overcast light.

            She is worried about something, his dragon relayed with a nod ahead. Insoo’s gut twisted when he realized it was the same direction as home and the shadow in the distance. Something is happening. She thinks we should probably land.

            Any idea what it is? Insoo asked, shaking his head.

            No. But Trance… is strange, the copper answered, tension becoming obvious in his body in turn.

            Gain made a quick snapping sound with her jaw as if to say ‘Now.’ Insoo flinched at the unexpected response but shrugged. Better safe than sorry, he nodded, patting Gunwoo with a quick nudge to let the copper signal for their descent.

            While the other dragons seemed a little confused about the call for a break, none complained. Insoo made sure Gunwoo was comfortable when he got off and then watched in nervous fascination as Gain… paced. It was the only thing he could describe it as. Her wings fluttered in agitation, her tail twitched, and she kept her gaze focused in the direction they’d been heading as if she was looking for something. He was about to go check on her in person when she suddenly stopped… and collapsed without a sound.

            Shock froze Insoo in place for a heartbeat and then propelled him forward with a startled cry. “Gain!”

            His world stopped when a whisper of sound reached him. Soo… A terrible sinking feeling cratered his stomach as Insoo whirled around just in time to see Gunwoo collapse too. Just like every other dragon in their group.

            “No, no, no, no, no!” Insoo rambled, sprinting to the copper dragon’s side. Their bond was still there. It hadn’t been severed, but he couldn’t reach Gunwoo. The copper breathed as if sleeping, but his eyes were vacant. “Woo?” Insoo called in a trembling voice, his hand caressing the dragon’s face and head. A panicked glance up showed his riders were just like him. Confused and lost and overwhelmed by the mass collapse. Except for one…

            Hyunseong raised his arm and pointed up with a frightened expression. “The sky…” he trailed off, the timbre of his voice somehow managing to draw the reluctant attention of his wing mates.

            Ominous despair rose in Insoo as he forced himself to look, to see the horror that had so entranced the former rider. “Heavens help us,” he whispered at the sight of the roiling, flashing darkness that was heading towards them. He watched as writhing tendrils of living shadow reached over and beyond them, hiding the sun as it went. His skin crawled and he shuddered involuntarily when a low, monstrous groan emerged from the apparent epicenter. As a slow moving vortex connecting the heavens and the earth appeared in the distance, it literally made Insoo feel deathly ill.

            He groaned and leaned against his dragon’s neck, what strength he had bleeding from him in a rush. “Woo,” he whispered again, numb with fear. Dancing flickers of light sparked in his periphery, the brief sights accompanied by sharp cracks of sound that skittered over his bare skin, but he couldn’t bring himself to care enough to see. Only when the sky itself moaned and all his hair stood on end dangerously did Insoo look up with a trembling jaw. “Oh no,” he mouthed as lightning frenzied in the sky above them.

            All vestiges of any defiance fled and Insoo’s body relaxed completely. He closed his eyes in defeated acceptance and waited for the end…

            Everything about Trance was madness personified. The walls, the sky, the ground beneath whatever platform the dragon gods were standing on… Billowing clouds of inky blackness flecked with brief sparks of light churned, leaving a relatively small space clear. It was not free from the effects of Bahamut and Tiamat’s combat, however. Splotches and splatters of silver, like carelessly tossed paint, stained and smeared the ground beneath them.

            Another floundering charge from Bahamut showed the makings of his patterns. Forward and back, but moving to the side first, darting at straightforward but harsh angles. All power and no subtlety, it was obvious he sought merely to overpower the other dragon. His silver eyes were for her alone.

            For her part, Tiamat deflected the silver dragon’s strike, swinging wide in a flowing arch, her eyes never still. They touched on Bahamut, acknowledging his position, but silver orbs flickered to a severed silver head and then swung wide to the expanse of the Trance space, as if she was looking for something. Hers was not the demeanor of a conqueror, but rather a protector, a guard of sorts. Her lack of bloodlust would not help her though. Neither would be able to last forever.

            Their struggle in Trance was compounded by the very real physical struggle in the world beyond. A literal war of sheer brute strength was being waged concurrently with the malleable power of their collective shared space. The dual nature of their battle was exhausting.

            One of Bahamut’s wings was severed and he was missing an eye, giant claw marks etched deep in his face. His other wing was drooping and his tail was crooked, but still he stood. Defiant and angry.

            Tiamat was not much better. The silver head was little more than a stump, lost when taking Bahamut’s wing, while a bronze and copper head swung low, unresponsive. The other bronze dragon head continued to work in conjunction with Tiamat’s, nipping at Bahamut like a wolf to a deer. Still, her power seemed much diminished for all that she’d had more when they first started fighting.

            “I’m almost disappointed,” Bahamut huffed with a rolling growl, shifting his weight from side to side. “You’ve learned nothing about fighting since our last bout.” He followed his barb with a quick biting attack, successfully chasing the bronze head away with a nip to the neck.

            “I wouldn’t say that,” Tiamat exhaled as she hopped back without taking the opening. It was too obvious and Bahamut’s sly smile confirmed her suspicion. “In fact, I would say it is you who have learned nothing,” she promised, her eyes narrowed and calculating.

            He snorted at her dismissively and pulled himself up to his full height, imperious even now. “You lost your first child to aggressive stupidity and two more fled shortly after,” he scoffed, single wing flapping in agitation. “And you seem to have failed to realize our meeting here has granted me greater control in the world beyond.”

            “Perhaps,” the dragon god nodded once before leaning forward and settling on all fours. The change in position made it look as if the two unresponsive heads started to move on their own again.

            “Even if you could defeat me here, the ones you pitiably wished to save would be no more should you return to them,” he taunted, a shake of his head prompting a burst of lighting to skitter outward, disappearing into the blackness.

            “My dear, you are powerful,” she conceded, taking a breath and tilting her black head as if listening. The bronze remained focused on Bahamut. “But you are only one dragon. Thus, there is a limit to what you can accomplish.”

            “Foolish woman,” Bahamut spat, leaning to the right as he shifted his weight once more and then leapt forward.

            Tiamat waited until the last moment to rise up and fall back. Three heads moved to latch onto Bahamut’s neck, stalling him before he could reach Tiamat’s. Momentum carried the silver dragon forward though and he grabbed her with his claws, digging into weak flesh when he landed on top. Tiamat keened and stretched her wings to enfold the silver dragon, trapping his remaining wing within the circle of hers.

            Bahamut struggled against her fiercely, trying with all his considerable power to break free. But his claws were held in place by Tiamat as she used her body as the anchor. With no solid ground to push off of and three dragon maws holding him close, the silver dragon god had nowhere to go. Tiamat closed her wings tighter and wound her neck around the other four, binding them together. Then she took a deep breath and closed her eyes as power hummed, through them, around them, and into the furthest reaches of Trance itself.

            Their collective world convulsed, the seemingly endless space condensing to swallow the dragon gods, ensconcing them in an unimaginably large spherical cage. The surface fractured quickly, fine cracks appearing everywhere like a dragonling hatching from an egg. Darkness exploded into light, the center expanding in motes of warm luminescence that floated away like the seeds of a field of dandelions in the wind. From the heart of the sphere, four figures were thrown free, limp forms illuminated by an immeasurable sea of glowing orbs. Where each mote landed, soft gray clouds emerged, sanctifying the space in warmth and serenity.

            “Ugh…” Bahamut groaned first, weakly pulling his human limbs under his body so he could try to get up. “What did you do?” he demanded, fury evident but the power lacking.

            In her human form, Tiamat laughed without making any effort to rise. She simply stared at the peaceful sky from her vantage on the ground. “I merely leveled the field, my dear.”

            “This doesn’t change anything,” the dragon god growled, stalling on his hands and knees when the bare effort of standing proved to be too much in that moment.

            “Oh, I think it does,” she whispered, pulling her hand to chest and trailing her fingers over her heart with a bittersweet smile on her face.

            “What…?” he murmured, confused by her utterance. But then Bahamut felt it. Something else was stirring behind him. Something that made him feel the uncomfortable sensation of uncertainty in that moment. He turned his head enough to catch a glimpse of a human wreathed in a blue dragon’s ghostly shadow.

            “Jongup,” the human voice whispered in a wan face that the dragon god had worn for a short time. Brown eyes gave way to amber orbs glowing in a dragon’s face transposed over the man’s. It was the dragon that lunged forward and grabbed Bahamut’s shoulders in inhumanly strong hands.

            “No!” Bahamut denied, the sound sharp but short.

            It was the dragon that severed his cry, ghostly but corporeal jaws biting down and twisting with a bone crunching snap. And it was the dragon that stood up when Bahamut’s lifeless body crumpled to the ground. But it was the man that emerged with a breathless cry when he saw a familiar form lying nearby.

            “Taekwoon!” Feeling almost transparent and grounded only by Jongup’s presence in him, Jinki stumbled to Taekwoon’s body. “Woonie?” he called as he fell beside the other man, one hand supporting him so he didn’t tip over and the other smoothing the wavy hair from the downed rider’s face.

            A low and vibrating croon reverberated through him as he felt Jongup calling to his mate in turn. And then Taekwoon inhaled sharply, body flinching as if waking from a deep sleep. “No…” he spoke, one hand drifting out like he was trying to ward something away.

            Jinki reached out and grabbed it, pulling it to his chest. “Taekwoon. I’m here.”

            The dragon rider stilled with a shuddering breath. His eyes remained closed, almost like he was afraid of opening them. “My heart?” he asked in a broken voice that sounded like a lost child.

            “Yes, love,” Jinki whispered back, kissing Taekwoon’s fingers as he stared at his other half’s face, willing him to look up. And then he did, the wonder in his eyes even more brilliant than the rising sun.

            “Jinki,” he breathed, the name a reverent utterance. “You’re alive…”

            “So are you,” Jinki smiled, tears making his smile quiver.

            Taekwoon seemed frozen, mesmerized by the man before him, but Jonghyun was under no such compulsion. The copper dragon’s shadowy form emerged to pull his rider into an upright but still seated position. He crooned and Jongup appeared a heartbeat later. Freed from his thrall, Taekwoon reached for Jinki and they fell into each other’s arms, holding as tight as they could. Overlaying their forms, their dragons intertwined their necks and a fulfilling sense of wholeness wound through them.

            “I thought I’d lost you,” Taekwoon gasped into his other half’s ear.

            “You almost did,” Jinki responded, sniffing and burrowing harder against the rider.

            “How…?” It was almost too quiet to hear, but Jinki did and he smiled.

            “Jonghyun. When Bahamut-”

            “Bahamut!” Taekwoon nearly choked, tensing up and apparently ready to fight. A tremulous growl followed from Jonghyun.

            “Easy!” Jinki called, clinging to the rider to keep him from trying to bolt away. “He’s gone,” he promised, lips brushing against the nearest ear.

            “Gone…?” the rider trailed off in stunned disbelief. When Jinki nodded, Taekwoon suddenly turned boneless and sank into the supporting arms holding him tight. “And… Tiamat?”

            “She’s still here… but…” Jinki hummed, carefully turning his head to look at the strange woman lying down where she’d fallen. Ebony flesh torn and stained with silver, she looked like she was simply watching the sky. “I don’t think… she’s going to hurt us.”

            They both flinched when Tiamat chuckled and shook her head. “No. I won’t.” The dragon god turned her head to look at them and then beckoned with her strangely long fingernails. “Come, my children. Yes, all of you,” she added, eyes flickering up above Jinki’s head and then back down.

            Should go, Jongup’s voice floated into his mind, making Jinki jump again. He’d forgotten he could hear the dragon now.

            “Love?” he murmured, cradling Taekwoon’s head against his chest.

            “I heard,” the rider whispered, taking a deep breath as he hugged Jinki around the waist tightly and pressed his face against his bone. “Just, let me stay here for a little longer,” he pleaded, his voice a ghost of sound.

            “Of course,” Jinki laughed fragilely, hugging the other man to him tighter as he pressed his lips to the wavy hair. He couldn’t imagine what his other half had gone through to get here. His own experience was harrowing enough… The feeling of fading away, of losing himself to the overwhelming presence of Bahamut… it had been terrifying and suffocating. And then Jonghyun had appeared. A shadow of himself but when he found Jinki, they’d anchored each other. Taekwoon was their shared goal after all, and Jonghyun could hide their presence from Bahamut with a fold in Trance, allowing them to simply exist until something could change.

            And change it did… but at what cost? He’d almost lost himself again, carried away on the waves of Trance, until Jongup showed up. It was because of the blue dragon that he’d been able to survive whatever had happened with Trance. He almost didn’t want to know, but because of Jongup, he’d been able to find Bahamut and then Taekwoon as a result. At last, they were together now. Somehow. And Bahamut was gone. Though Tiamat remained, it felt… temporary. He glanced at the waiting dragon god once and she seemed frailer than before. Almost like she was wasting away… Still, Jinki did not try to move until he felt Taekwoon’s arms relax enough to allow them to attempt to stand up.

            “Come on, love,” he encouraged, supporting the rider with all his strength. Taekwoon leaned on him hard as they staggered to the supine dragon god. He also remained stoically and uncharacteristically mute, though the tension in his arms let Jinki know he had plenty of thoughts going through his mind.

            “My children,” Tiamat crooned as she raised her hands to the space above Jinki and Taekwoon’s head. “You did so well,” she promised, a beautiful smile lighting up her face when the copper and blue heads dipped down to press against her palms. “And so did you,” she added, some of the warmth in her smile fading as she changed her focus to the humans, but not all of it.

            “I thought you hated humans,” Taekwoon muttered darkly.

            Tiamat took a breath and sighed, snorting once. “A mother can’t ignore her childrens’ choices forever.” Even as she rolled her eyes in remarkably human gesture, she motioned for them to sit closer and then clasped her hands together over her stomach. “Your bonds may have been created out of force and lies, but your feelings for each other are very real. There is hope in that,” she smiled, placing a light hand on Taekwoon’s nearest knee.

            He shifted uneasily and shook his head. “I don’t trust you.”

            “Nor should you,” she laughed, clearly delighted by his comment. “But you can believe I did everything I could for my children. And the ones they love…” she added with an almost playfully distasteful grimace.

            Jinki tightened his embrace around Taekwoon just a touch, the action seeming to help his other half relax. “Why didn’t you just kill Bahamut?” he wondered, still lost about that part.

            Tiamat’s smile was bitter. “Because I couldn’t.” She closed her eyes and then looked up enough to glance at the mostly translucent body; without the dragon god’s power, his form was simply fading away. “He was my mate. He needed to be stopped, but I couldn’t do it.” The dragon god shook her head and then stared up at the sky. “We should have gone to the Heavens ages ago. Should have let this world run its course. So many things might have turned out differently…” she exhaled with a heavy sigh. “Now I am tired. Man… has much to make up for,” she stated, eyeing Jinki and Taekwoon. “But… I think you four… five,” she corrected herself with another glance at Taekwoon. “Might be able to start moving this world in a better direction.”

            “What do you mean?” Jinki asked uncertainly, a quick look at Taekwoon showing the other man felt very much like he did.

            “I mean,” Tiamat started, a slightly mischievous smile tugging at the corners of . “It’s up to you now.”

            “Wait,” Taekwoon blinked, one hand reaching towards Tiamat’s body as she seemed to be fading before them. “What’s happening?”

            “For what it’s worth,” she murmured, ignoring his question. “I do wish things could have ended differently.”

            “What do you mean?” Jinki demanded, the sentiment making him uncomfortable.

            “Heavens watch over you,” Tiamat smiled, her black eyes with silver pinpricks drifting up to focus on Jonghyun and Jongup before she vanished completely, leaving nothing but silver pools of liquid in her wake to show that she’d been there at all.

            “What… just happened?” Jinki asked while he looked at Taekwoon. But the rider didn’t seem to hear him. He was looking at the spot where Tiamat had been with nothing but lost confusion.

            “She’s gone,” he mumbled, fingertips tracing the empty space and drawing senseless patterns in the dragon’s blood.

            Jinki resisted the urge to ask Jongup what might have been wrong and reached for Taekwoon’s hand instead. “Hey,” he called gently, curling his fingers around the questing ones and then drawing them close. “I don’t understand everything that happened, love. But we’re still here,” he promised, leaning over enough to catch Taekwoon’s eyes. “Aren’t we?”

            Taekwoon looked up and some of the focus returned as he really saw Jinki again. He blinked and took a small breath as a grateful smile graced his lips. “Yes,” he nodded, cupping Jinki’s cheek in his palm. “We are.”

            Willingly, Jinki followed the hand that guided him close. He felt their dragons subside for now as they pressed their foreheads together. His hands were warm against the sides of Taekwoon’s neck. The eyes he stared into were a little strange, as if he hadn’t quite settled his thoughts yet, but they were Taekwoon’s. And they were filled with wonder and affection. “I am yours,” Jinki spoke, the words a mere whisper as they escaped his lips.

            A beautiful smile lightened Taekwoon’s face, the expression preceding the disappearance of his remaining tension. “And you are mine,” he finished, leaning forward to press his lips against Jinki’s, tender and reverent and full of unquestioning love.

            And Jinki returned it in full.

            There were still so many things they didn’t understand or know, but right now, they had each other. After everything that had happened… it was enough.