Bellatrix

Bellatrix’s ancestors had come to the Tangled Wood long ago. Outsiders though they were, the Shadowbinder had welcomed them into the ranks of her most revered warriors: the Umbra Witches. An ancient order tasked with safeguarding the Shadow Flight’s greatest magics and secrets, they were fighters and sorcerers of great renown.

Of the Gaolers, only their descendant, Bellatrix, remained. All their strength and cunning, distilled within this terrifyingly powerful sorceress—

“And so, Bellatrix, I would have you become the Elder once I am gone.”

Bellatrix stood in the center of the Umbra Elder’s abode. Before her, barely discernible in the shadows, was an old Nocturne.

The term “Elder” suited the Nocturne well. She was shriveled with age and perched upon her throne like a craggy spider, her robes enshrouding her like cobwebs. Still, her mind was sharp, and her voice remained a velvety croon. “Ah, but you are displeased....Tell me of your troubles, my dear.”

Bellatrix’s face was grim. “I believe there is one among us who may be a threat to my power.”

“It is Vesper, yes?” And at the Elder’s words, scores of lamps came alight. The cavern was revealed in its full dimensions—as were the Witches clustered around the perimeter. Most of them were Shadow dragons, but from among them, Bellatrix picked out gleaming, Wind-green eyes. Her old rival, Vesper.

“She is of Impure blood,” Bellatrix growled, “and we have often fought before. It is unwise to let these ills fester. Better that we settle things before the transfer of power is complete.”

The Elder’s eyes narrowed. “Your second reason is sound, Bellatrix, but the first one reeks of hypocrisy. Recall you not that your Ice-born ancestors were welcomed by the Shadowbinder herself?”

“My challenge stands.” And so did Bellatrix, resolute in her drive to do battle. From across the room, Vesper advanced. She declared in a ringing voice, “I accept your challenge.”

The old Nocturne hissed in displeasure. “‘Impurity’, such as it is, should not serve as grounds for a duel between Umbran sisters.”

“But you said yourself that my other reason was sound, and my rival has risen to meet my challenge,” Bellatrix responded. Beside her, Vesper agreed with a stiff nod.

The Elder sighed. “So be it. By the tenets of our order, if an invitation to duel is accepted without coercion, then the duel shall proceed.

“But should you win, Bellatrix, you must not view this as evidence of the inadequacy of ‘Impure Blood’. In the future, you may find yourself in need of assistance from other Flights—even those individuals you would consider ‘Impure.’”

And having finished her rebuke, the Elder said no more. Still, there was no stopping Bellatrix. Her challenge had been accepted, and she was determined to win.

~ ~ ~
Had Bellatrix been more mature, she might have admitted that her challenge had arisen purely from envy. Vesper had joined the Witches as a hatchling, and the two dragonesses had grown up together. The Gaoler had watched, chagrined, as this so-called outsider had risen through the ranks almost as quickly as she had—despite having come from a different Flight.

Vesper was a dragoness of spirit and she had competed eagerly with Bellatrix. Their rivalry had grown into a bitter fire that nothing but an all-out duel could quench, and so they proceeded to the proving grounds with alacrity.

The proving grounds were on a large island in the middle of a murky channel. There were high banks on either side, sculpted into terraced seats for spectators. The island had also been terraformed into an earthen maze of arches, ridges, and caves; along its middle ran a ridge, on the opposite ends of which stood Vesper and Bellatrix.

For Vesper, her motives were simple: defeat Bellatrix, prove that even an “Impure” outsider like herself could be as good an Umbra Witch as any Shadow-born. It was a prejudice she had been struggling with all her life, and she could not endure this insult from the dragon who might become her leader.

Bellatrix, on the other hand, simply wanted to be the best. She would prove that she was right, had been right all along. Then no one would be able to challenge her leadership. There would be no challenges ever again....

The duel began. The dragonesses rushed forward, tested each other with teeth and talons; soon they began using magic on each other. Vesper hurled a bright green bolt at Bellatrix. It smashed against the Gaoler’s side, sending a wave of nausea sweeping through her.

Bellatrix shook her head, trying to clear the dizziness. Within her, a voice seemed to speak, instinct whispering through the pride: Run.

And she did. Her misgivings quickly vanished when she heard Vesper’s muttered curse. A grin shone briefly on her face.

She darted into a tunnel, narrowly avoiding another magical bolt. Under an arch and bounding over a crag, never turning to confront Vesper but with her ears alert for the telltale whoosh of Wind magic.

And then Vesper was before her again. Her magic was spent, but her rage still burned. “How dare you turn your back on me!” she screamed.

Bellatrix met her head-on this time. Again the two dragonesses fell to physical blows. With one forepaw, Bellatrix flung the Wildclaw away. Even before she got up, the Gaoler felt the air shift: Vesper was summoning her magic again.

A great tornado erupted from the ground, so vicious that it formed a column of whirling earth and stone. But Bellatrix had timed it exactly right and leaped back, out of reach. Now she was summoning her own magic....

When the tornado dissipated, Bellatrix cast her spell. She’d been building it up all this time, and it flew true: a mass of shadows that caught the Wildclaw in mid-leap. Vesper’s talons were held out for an eliminating blow; instead, they came down on empty ground. She had been blinded. The Gaoler didn’t hold back this time, and Vesper could only shield herself as Bellatrix’s blows rained upon her. Finally, she lay on the ground, bloodied and bruised.

“Do you yield?”

Vesper held up a forepaw in surrender. “I can barely stand....I must yield,” she groaned.

The Gaoler turned to look at the Umbra Witches. The Elder nodded stiffly, and Bellatrix roared in triumph—uncontested at last.

~ ~ ~
The Elder passed on not long after that duel, and Bellatrix took her post. The duel had also satisfied the Gaoler’s bitterness towards Vesper. She did not condemn the Wildclaw; nonetheless, Vesper lost some standing, and her life in the Clock Tower (as the Witches’ lair was known) became considerably lonelier.

The Elder’s words were also a source of contention to Bellatrix many years later, when she received a mission from the Shadowbinder.

There had been a magical explosion in the Sunbeam Ruins. The blast had killed many mages, including eleven Imperials—who had risen from the dead, fused into an Emperor. The beast was now ravaging the Sunbeam Ruins, to the chagrin of the Lightweaver and her paladins, the Lumen Sages.

Bellatrix had no love for the Lumen Sages. Their orders had always been rivals, and their goddesses had also forbidden them from consorting with each other. They had prophesied, “The intersection of Light and Shadow shall bring calamity to Sornieth.”

And so when the Shadowbinder recounted the destruction wrought by the Emperor, Bellatrix laughed in derision. “Let the Lumen Sages clean up their own mess!”

But her smile vanished as the Shadowbinder continued speaking. The other Witches in the cavern also listened with bated breath as the Emperor’s route was described. It was heading west, straight towards the Tangled Wood.

If the Witches stood idly by, the Lumen Sages would battle the beast alone...and would surely perish. Then the Emperor would cross the border unimpeded and lay waste to the Tangled Wood. The Witches would of course stand against it, but they would fare no better than the Sages. Eventually they, too, would fall.

If the two orders joined forces, however, there was a chance that they could slay the beast before it attacked the Shadowbinder’s domain. The previous Elder’s words rang in Bellatrix’s mind: “You may find yourself in need of assistance from other Flights...even those individuals you would consider ‘Impure.’”

The path ahead was clear. The Shadowbinder withdrew, and to the gathered Witches, Bellatrix bellowed, “Our goddess has ordered us to prepare for battle. We shall stand alongside the Lumen Sages...and defeat the Emperor!”

~ ~ ~
The Lumen Sages were led by Balder, a Gaoler with shining white fur and radiant eyes. He watched as waves of shadows poured out of the Tangled Wood. They coalesced into Bellatrix and the massed ranks of the Umbra Witches—all of them ready to battle alongside their brilliant counterparts.

Ahead of them was the Emperor, Jubileus: fully as large as a mountain range, blotting out the sky. Staring at their deadly foe now, Bellatrix found her confidence shaken. What if their resistance only made the Emperor angrier and deadlier? Would it devour them all and go on to prey upon the rest of Sornieth? Was this the calamity that had been foretold?

She couldn’t help looking at Balder—and saw, mirrored in his eyes, the same uncertainties. The prophecy was well known to the Lumen Sages, too. Yet they had still agreed to stand with the Witches, and Bellatrix felt the first stirrings of respect for them.

She and Balder faced Jubileus once more. Together, they roared a challenge—and it was taken up by the other Sages and Witches, a battle cry powerful enough to shake the heavens.

The battle raged for days. The dragons fought on, powered by magic, and the battlefield soon became a murky haze of magic and of death. Still Bellatrix fought, rallying and defending her Witches—and alongside them, Balder and his Lumen Sages battled bravely, too. An intersection of Light and Shadow, but one that sought to save Sornieth, not devastate it.

Bellatrix witnessed many acts of heroism in that battle. There was a terrifying moment when all seemed lost: The Emperor’s magical shield was finally dispelled, but Jubileus redoubled its attacks, devouring fighters by the hundreds in a bid to replenish its magic.

It was a Sage who dared engage the beast: Alraune, the Golden Wonder, cast a mighty spell. She flew at the Emperor to draw its attention—and it destroyed her with a single blast from its eleven heads.

But Alraune’s spell was blown back over the Sages and the Witches. And it was a healing spell: Suddenly all the fighters were energized, their wounds instantly mended. When Bellatrix realized this, she looked for Balder, saw him slumped nearby.

“Alraune has bought us more time!” she coaxed him. “Let us end this battle now. There will be time to grieve later,” and, briefly, her face was as sorrowful as his, “but our mission remains.”

It took Balder some time to respond. When he finally spoke, his voice was unsteady but sincere: “You and your Witches have been a tremendous help to us. I am grateful that my Sages and I were granted the privilege of fighting alongside you.”

“Fighting now, speeches later, Balder,” Bellatrix growled. But she was grinning back.

The two leaders rallied their dragons once more. At their commands, the Sages and Witches worked together, hurling spells at the Emperor or raising magical shields. For each blast they threw, Jubileus deteriorated. Its body fell to tatters, and its eyes grew dim.

“Ready for attack!” Balder roared. Bellatrix ordered her Witches, “Prepare yourselves! We will strike when the Sages do. Ready...”

“NOW! STRIKE!”

And together, the Sages and Witches sent their magic surging forward. An intersection of Light and Shadow...

But there was no calamity that day. Instead, there was triumph. Jubileus fell, defeated at last, and the Witches and Sages stood together on that battlefield. Exhausted, decimated...but victorious.

~ ~ ~
The Sages and Witches returned to their homes. There would be long periods of mourning, for both orders had lost a lot of comrades. But when the time for mourning had passed, the Witches and Sages reached out to each other again. Their battlefield camaraderie soon blossomed into an alliance.

Due to the divine prophecy, the alliance was strictly controlled: the orders would defend each other in times of crisis, and they would exchange knowledge. Commerce between the two orders was forbidden, and they did not meddle in each other’s politics. Friendships were encouraged, but rivalries and romances were strictly barred.

And so while Sages and Witches could visit each other’s homes, the Elders were very careful in choosing who should go and for what purpose. Bellatrix also made sure to interview her Witches as they returned to the Clock Tower—one of those interviews was happening today.

“Step forward,” she rumbled, and a Nocturne fluttered into view: a graceful creature with jewel-bright eyes. She bowed to her Elder and demurely folded her forepaws.

“How fared your visit, Charlotte?”

“I would consider it a success, Elder,” the Nocturne responded in a soft, clear voice. “The Lumen Sages have granted me the use of their training facilities, and I have been partnered with some of their journeydrakes, including a Sage named Stefan.”

“And what have you to say about these young ones’ fighting abilities?”

“They show promise.” And Charlotte paused, thinking carefully. “While I have not been granted the privilege of seeing her in action, I have heard that Balder’s adopted daughter, Himiko, is growing in power.”

“And doubtless in wit as well,” Bellatrix responded wryly. Himiko was Balder’s child, a gift from the Lightweaver herself—and a budding warrior mage who showed every sign of surpassing her father. Deep within Bellatrix, the old envy stirred....She had to work hard to suppress it.

There were more questions for Charlotte, mostly about the techniques she had learned. She gave demonstrations of them, which Bellatrix praised her for.

“Your visits always bear fruit, Charlotte. Some well-earned rest is in order....A vacation, perhaps?”

Charlotte looked up sharply. And then she shook her head, hastening to explain, “I think the stay at Isla del Sol already qualified as one!” Her merry laughter rang through the hall. “I feel I’ve barely scratched the surface of what I can learn there. I thought to go back, request access to higher-level spells...”

“You wish to return?”

“If you think it proper for me, Elder.”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Bellatrix couldn’t help wondering about that strange turn of phrase.

Nevertheless, she answered, “Your industriousness does you credit. If Balder permits it, you may visit the Lumen Sages again.”

“Thank you, Elder.” Charlotte flashed a radiant smile.

~ ~ ~
Many years passed, and groups of Sages and Witches continued visiting the Clock Tower and Isla del Sol. The two orders learned much from each other, even battled together against the rising Beastclans...

Yet it appeared that trouble was brewing. Bellatrix crouched in the great cavern as Balder’s image coalesced before her. He quickly got to the purpose of their discussion—

“I worry that your Witch, Charlotte, may be consorting...in the most traditional sense of the word...with one of my Sages, Stefan.”

“What makes you say that?” Bellatrix couldn’t help sounding indignant. Charlotte was one of the order’s most talented Witches; she was loyal and industrious, and Bellatrix couldn’t believe she would do anything to endanger the alliance—let alone anything as foolish as taking up with a Lumen Sage. They were allies, but such relationships had been strictly forbidden by the gods.

“They have been spending much time together. And Stefan seems...changed. Even his fellow Sages have remarked upon it.”

“So you have no proof, then? Nothing but gossip?”

Balder’s eyes hardened. “Bellatrix, I assure you that this is not mere gossip. If Stefan and Charlotte are defying the terms our goddesses have set, we shall have to take steps.”

“I’m hearing a lot of ‘seems’ and ‘ifs’ in there, Balder,” Bellatrix retorted. “Without proof, your accusation comes across as downright delusional.”

And now Balder’s ire arose. “Watch your tongue, Witch. We have labored alongside each other for centuries; you know I would not consult you over something so trivial as gossip.”

“If your suppositions are true, then you are not entirely blameless either.” Bellatrix’s glare bored into Balder. “As Lumen Elder, you are responsible for your Sages’ conduct. Your training of them must be flawed if this Stefan lacks mental fortitude.”

Balder inhaled slowly, deeply. When next he spoke, it was with immense dignity—but Bellatrix could still hear the anger in his voice: “I believe we’ve reached the end of this discussion. My purpose in contacting you was to air my concerns, and I have done that. What you wish to do about your wayward Witch will be none of my business. Good day.” And he vanished.

Bellatrix slumped down, flexing her claws in agitation. The nerve of that sanctimonious, self-righteous Balder! Thinking that even his flimsiest suppositions ought to move the moon and stars...

“But what if he’s right? Charlotte has been spending much time with the Sages. She is learning much from them...but are the Sages gathering information from her? That Stephen, is she sharing our secrets with him as well?”

She brooded on these thoughts for a long time. Finally, she descended into the depths of the Clock Tower. Here the Witches kept their dungeons, and Bellatrix ordered the guards, “You are to fortify the deepest prison cell. Ensure that it is warded from within against Shadow...and Light magic.”

She could be wrong about Charlotte, and so could Balder. But if they weren’t, then dark times, darker even than the Witches could endure, were ahead of them.

~ ~ ~
The night Stefan’s and Charlotte’s relationship was discovered was one of the most shameful Bellatrix had ever known. Knowing that the problem could have been mitigated if she’d paid closer attention to Balder...as Elder, she had failed her order and her goddess. Charlotte had broken faith with the Shadowbinder, and now the alliance was no more.

There was no hope for reconciliation with Balder, either. He was enraged as Bellatrix was, and they exchanged some harsh words. Any misgivings Bellatrix might’ve had were eroded by her mounting fury; how dare he maintain that sanctimonious self-righteousness!

The Witches who had been sent to Isla del Sol left the Sages’ enclave that night. They carried Charlotte with them, and when they arrived home, she was cast at Bellatrix’s feet.

“Good. You’ve stopped sniveling at last,” Bellatrix spat. “Have you decided that your precious Sage wasn’t worth your tears?”

Charlotte’s face remained sorrowful, but she said nothing. Oddly, that infuriated Bellatrix more. “Why sacrifice our alliance for this? You have shamed the Witches, you have shamed me. You have shamed the Shadowbinder and all Shadow-born! Why did you allow yourself to be swayed towards Light?!”

“Not for Light. For...love...”

Charlotte’s voice was a ghostly whisper. Bellatrix heard it clearly, however.

“Love?” she sneered. “A worthless fairytale, nothing but calf-eyed looks and canoodling in the dark! If it were my decision,” and now the Witches shrank from the chilliness in Bellatrix’s voice, “you would not be imprisoned as the Shadowbinder has decreed. I would destroy you, Charlotte. I would break you...”

But the Shadowbinder had given her orders, and so Charlotte was taken down to the dungeons of the Clock Tower. She gave Bellatrix one last look, weak but unafraid. “My love—he’s been taken away....You can’t break me any further, you hateful old hag.”

Bellatrix snarled, but the guards were already forcing Charlotte into the cell. Immediately walls of pure magic sprang up around her, so thick that they were translucent. The magic would preserve Charlotte exactly as she was now. She would not age or decay—but neither would her heartbreak heal, no matter how many centuries passed....

“We shall see,” hissed Bellatrix. And she turned to the Witches and began issuing more commands.

~ ~ ~
The divinely dissolved alliance sent shockwaves rippling through dragonkind. Suspicion weighed more heavily upon the Umbra Witches; unfortunately, it always did. “They’re tricksters, you know,” other dragons whispered. “ Wouldn’t surprise me if it was a plot to steal knowledge from the Light Flight...”

Bellatrix was beside herself with rage. The Umbra Witches had always had an ominous reputation, but at least they had been respected, even revered. Now they were being painted as common thieves.

“Comport yourselves with dignity,” she exhorted her Witches. “We cannot lend any credence to these slanderous rumors!”

And so the Witches went abroad on the Shadowbinder’s business. But the rumors hounded them, and worse yet, occasionally they encountered traveling Lumen Sages. Inevitably they exchanged insults, then accusations.

Bellatrix’s anger towards the Sages deepened. If they were so righteous, why did they initiate these fights so eagerly? And why didn’t their revered leader do anything to stop them?

“These rumors must have been started by them. They’re relying on their reputation for truthfulness—they’re using it to tear us down!”

Indeed, hadn’t this crisis begun in Isla del Sol? Hadn’t it happened entirely in the enclave, under Balder’s watch? Who was to say that Balder wasn’t encouraging the Sages to spread these rumors? They needed to deflect the blame, after all....

Soon the Sages and Witches were attacking one another on sight. It didn’t matter when or where—and woe betide any dragons caught in the crossfire. Lairs were destroyed, whole clans forced to flee. Witches and Sages came to be seen as omens of doom, for wherever one appeared, their enemies would follow, and death would not be far behind.

Bellatrix was done being a diplomat. Where had armistice with other Flights gotten her? To her, the war with the Lumen Sages was just another challenge to face. She would surmount this one, just as she’d surmounted all the previous ones, and she would be triumphant once more.

~ ~ ~
The Clan Wars raged for a century. And then, on the longest night of the year, the Umbra Witches destroyed Isla del Sol.

The Lumen Sages, who weren’t expecting to be attacked on their own turf, were caught unprepared. Many of their greatest warriors, including Balder and Himiko, were at the Light-Shadow border, where the fighting was concentrated. And so the remaining Sages found themselves unable to counter the Witches’ attack.

The Witches hammered on the magical barriers with their spells. When the Sages came out to confront them, they cast shrouds to hide themselves. Their strength was magnified by the complete darkness, and their mastery of Shadow magic was absolute. Even on their own lands, the Lumen Sages were unable to dispel the all-consuming night.

Soon the shields came down, and the Witches extinguished all light within the enclave. In the darkness, the Lumen Sages were unable to mount an effective resistance. Many of them were slaughtered as they groped blindly for their weapons. Those who tried to flee were swiftly cut down. Some of their ancient texts and artifacts were destroyed; most were taken instead. For the Umbra Witches had need of these—at last, they had been blessed with a prodigy of their own.

Jeanne, she was called. When her egg had been laid, Bellatrix had paid no attention. Life went on despite the war; there were still Witches being born and trained. She had nonetheless been present during many of the child’s training sessions. And soon, it was apparent that the future of the Witches lay with Jeanne.

There was nothing noteworthy about Jeanne’s background—yet from her earliest days, her potential had been undeniable. She was incredibly intelligent and quickly picked up spells and fighting techniques. She was adept at reading her opponents and readily concocted counter-strategies. Even now, as a young adolescent, she was fierce, cunning, and resilient....

Jeanne had progressed even faster once Bellatrix had begun training her. By now, the Elder had made her decision: Here, at last, was the dragon who would restore the Umbra Witches to their former glory—a worthy successor to Bellatrix herself.

~ ~ ~
Isla del Sol was destroyed. The enclave had been completely purged, the surviving Sages scattered across Sornieth. The Witches continued hunting them down—particularly Balder and Himiko.

Bellatrix and her Witches tracked them to Dragonhome. Himiko had grown into a fierce warrior, as dangerous as she was dazzlingly beautiful. Balder, however, was now shockingly haggard. The Clan Wars clearly had not been kind to him.

But when he realized that the Umbra Witches were here to do battle, his eyes flashed, and suddenly he was as powerful as he’d been when Bellatrix had last seen him—and many times as vicious. She smiled to see this, for it would not have been entertaining to battle some doddering old Gaoler. Now he seemed a worthy opponent.

It was Himiko who was more troublesome, however. She was incomprehensibly fast, seeming to jump from one spot to another in an eye-blink. Thanks to the manuscripts pillaged from Isla del Sol, Bellatrix understood that it was because she wielded the Right Eye of the World—and more importantly, they now knew how they could defeat her.

One team of Witches fended off Himiko and the rest, including Bellatrix, battled Balder. Despite his fierceness, the old Gaoler was clearly the weaker of the two. It was easy enough for the Witches to gain the upper hand.

Bellatrix herself struck the final blow. Balder stared up at her, mumbling words she didn’t care to understand, and then he fell. Blood stained his snowy fur, dyeing it crimson, and his radiant eyes dimmed at last.

“It’s done, then,” Bellatrix muttered. She turned, saw that Himiko had frozen. The young Pearlcatcher was staring, aghast, at her father’s motionless form.

“You will be spared, child. Come quietly, and you will not be harmed.” Bellatrix beckoned with a paw, and Himiko focused on it with terrible intensity. She stared, trembling with horror as she watched her father’s blood drip off the Umbra Elder’s claws.

A wild, animal shriek burst from Himiko’s throat. She tore forward, leading with her claws—suddenly she was no Lumen Sage, but an enraged beast going in for the kill.

Still, Bellatrix met Himiko’s attack with a smile. There was no fun in defeating an unbalanced opponent, but then again, her goal was not to slay Himiko. It was to capture her.

And capture her they did. In her blind fury, Himiko was unable to defend herself. The Witches trapped her in a dark sleep, and they took her back to the Clock Tower. Thus the Clan Wars ended—and the Umbra Witches, at last, were victorious.

~ ~ ~
Victory was the Umbra Witches’, but there was no peace: While the Shadowbinder had not forbidden their war, neither had she supported it—and there was also the possibility that the Lightweaver would seek revenge.

But chastisement came from neither the Shadowbinder nor the Lightweaver. Instead it came from many other sources—

“The Lightning dragons have declared war against us. They say we damaged the Lightning Farm during our battles...”

“The Tidelord’s forces seek vengeance against us, for their ships that were accidentally sunk in the war...”

“The Ice drakes have been sent against us. They say it is in reprisal for disrupting trade with other Flights...”

In their vicious war, the Lumen Sages and Umbra Witches had destroyed other dragons’ lives. And now that the Sages were gone, the other gods’ exalted forces were rallying against the Witches. Soon it became horribly clear that the Witches weren’t facing another war, but an extermination.

The Witches were ordered to scatter throughout Sornieth. To defend themselves as best as they could—or go into hiding. Some of them carried precious artifacts, hoping to hide these in safer places. Others sought to negotiate peace with the other Flights. They were unsuccessful.

Bellatrix and most of her strongest fighters remained in the Tangled Wood. There they made their own preparations. There was no need for them to go out into the world—in time, the war would come to them.

~ ~ ~
By the time Bellatrix decided to grant Jeanne leadership of the Umbra Witches, the Dragon Hunts, as they’d come to be known, had been going on for some years. Bellatrix reflected bitterly to herself that it was high time someone else became Elder. Nobody else could possibly do worse than she already had.

Now her face, as she looked down at her apprentice, was haggard and grim. “I would have you take up the mantle of Elder once I am gone, Jeanne,” she intoned.

“It is an honor, Elder,” Jeanne said with a bow. Bellatrix was about to smile, but she paused, troubled by the bleak expression on the Ridgeback’s face. “No...could it be...?”

She managed to say, “But you seem concerned. Tell me, is there one among us who...worries you?”

“Indeed, Elder.” And the young Witch turned. “I issue a challenge to Charlotte!”

At these words, there was a great groan from the foundations of the fortress. The flagstones buckled—and Charlotte’s cell burst through them, a chrysalis of glittering magical wards. Within the barriers, Charlotte unfurled her wings. She peered out at the Witches, her face as haunted as it’d been when they’d first imprisoned her, her eyes still as stony and dark.

“Charlotte? But she has been imprisoned all this time. How can she be a threat to you?” Bellatrix demanded.

“The magical barriers put her in stasis, but they did not dampen her magic. She is as strong as she was all those years ago...and she also has knowledge gleaned from the Lumen Sages. Her past transgressions make her untrustworthy. We should not have any traitors under our banner, not with the crisis we are facing now.”

Bellatrix’s fur bristled. “Jeanne, cease this foolishness. Cast your doubts aside and take up my mantle now.”

“Let us hear from Charlotte first. Will she deny my challenge or accept it?”

Jeanne hurled a dagger of brilliant starlight. It hit the magical barriers of Charlotte’s prison, and a gap opened, revealing the Nocturne’s face.

“Am I free at last?” she asked in a low voice. Jeanne retorted, “Only for as long as it will take you to deny my challenge...or finish it.”

But even as Jeanne spoke, they all felt the air shift. They strained to understand what they were hearing...and then they realized, horror dawning on their faces, that it was the beat of many wings.

The gods’ exalted forces were upon them at last.

~ ~ ~
The Dragon Hunts swept through the Tangled Wood like a wildfire. The Witches were able to beat back the first attack, but only at great cost. With heavy hearts, Bellatrix and Jeanne ordered the remaining Witches to disperse. Some of their strongholds still remained, and these would need to be defended as well. Other waves of invaders would soon follow. And eventually, they did....

“Fall back!” Vesper motioned for her squad to hurry; she herself went last, her green stripes blending into the shadows.

The squad had gone out on a supply run, but they had been spotted by a group of Wind warriors and been forced to flee. While they knew the Tangled Wood well, more exalted warriors were now closing in. There was no way out: Hereabouts, the only safehouse was the Clock Tower, and they couldn’t lead their enemies there.

Vesper and her squad looked bleakly at each other. Other Witches hadn’t returned from gathering runs; it looked as though this was why. In a small clearing, they prepared to make their stand. They held their blades high, ready to go down fighting...

But instead, a great flash of light ripped through the canopy. The Witches heard the warriors scream in consternation before flapping blindly away.

“You!” Vesper gasped as an Imperial emerged from the trees. His clothes were ragged, his face deeply marked with hardship—but there was no mistaking him; she’d seen him before, on the night of Charlotte’s banishment.

“Witches,” the Imperial rumbled. As the Witches sheathed their weapons, a glimmer of hope shone in his golden eyes. “My Charlotte...does she still live?”

~ ~ ~
After the first exalts had attacked the Tangled Wood, Charlotte and Jeanne had cast aside their animosity. They had joined forces against the exalts and defeated them, and Charlotte had been reinstated as an Umbra Witch.

Her reunion with Stefan was silent, but fraught with emotion. The way she looked at him, almost as though she couldn’t believe he was here...and then she embraced him, burying her face in his mane. He held her close, murmuring soft words, his wings folding protectively around her.

“Did you allow me entrance only because I aided your gatherers?” Stefan couldn’t help asking Bellatrix later on.

The Gaoler laughed harshly. “You’re no longer our rival, child. The Lumen Sages excommunicated you long ago.”

“There is a true Sage fighting among you though, is there not?”

Bellatrix nodded stiffly. When the Witches’ losses had become intolerable, she had ordered the release of Himiko, bearer of the Right Eye. Though she now wore a Witch’s uniform, Himiko was still very much a Lumen Sage, and she fought alongside her enemies only because she’d been bound with some powerful enchantments. Bellatrix had hoped that her aid would turn the tide of the war. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to be working.

She said as much, adding, “My successor has already been named. I remain only as an advisor—and a combatant.” In a rare moment of candor, sorrow and self-loathing burned together on her face. “I got us into this. It is more fitting that I battle on the front lines, rather than stand back as an overseer.”

Stefan agreed to fight alongside the Witches. He would do it, he said, for Charlotte. In the past, Bellatrix would have sneered at that, but now she only sighed, “Thank you.” It was a measure of how much she had changed that this time, she truly meant it.

~ ~ ~
The Dragon Hunts continued plaguing the Tangled Wood. One by one the Witches’ strongholds fell, and Bellatrix saw the loss of many of her finest warriors. Vesper, her old rival, lived long enough to become one of her most trusted lieutenants. The Wildclaw led many dangerous missions, supply and scouting runs. But one day, she and her squad didn’t return. They were never heard from again.

Charlotte and Stefan defended one of the Witches’ fortresses together. When the gates were breached, Charlotte was one of the first to fall; the exalts now recognized her as one of the Umbra champions, and she was quickly swarmed under. Stefan fought through them to get to her. The last anyone saw of him, he was cradling his lover’s body, heedless of the merciless warriors closing in on him.

Finally, there were no more strongholds left to defend—except the Clock Tower. The Witches’ headquarters, the ultimate symbol of the Umbran Way. The Witches had kept it concealed using myriad enchantments, but for every one of them slain, the enchantments weakened. Soon the Tower would be completely vulnerable, and then...

“Fall back! Back to the Clock Tower!”

The last of the enchantments crumbled, and the Clock Tower, at last, was visible to the Witch hunters. At its base gathered the Witches, ready for their final stand.

The battle around the Clock Tower raged for days. Bellatrix fought grimly on, shepherding the wounded to safety when she could and dispatching her enemies without mercy. Soon her coat was soaked with blood, her antlers splintered and cracked. But she carried on fighting. She pushed all thoughts of defeat or even victory out of her mind. She couldn’t afford to be distracted by possibilities; she had to concentrate on now—

She blinked, and the sky lit up. For a moment, Bellatrix thought she’d fallen asleep from exhaustion and that the sun was rising. But the battle was still raging around her, and she realized, “That’s not the sun...!”

With a deafening explosion, the fireball smashed into the Clock Tower. Witches and invaders alike were burned to death in the blast; Bellatrix was flung some distance away.

“No...” Eventually, she forced herself to get up. She stared, aghast, at the place where the Clock Tower had been.

The Umbra Witches’ citadel was no more. All that remained was a smoking crater and the scorched foundations. Bellatrix groaned in horror, staggering instinctively towards it.

And then she shrieked in pain as a lance drove into her side. She turned, flung away the warrior who had stabbed her. Once again the invaders were converging on her. The Clock Tower had been destroyed; all they needed to do now was eliminate the Witches.

Bellatrix bared her fangs. “Come on, then, if you dare!” she roared. She backed towards the crater, striking at her foes with her claws and teeth. Building up her strength, summoning her magic all the while...

“Goddess, would you be pleased?” she thought as, at last, an Imperial warrior managed to drive his spear through her chest. She barely felt it; so deeply caught up was she in her spell. Too late the exalts realized their peril as the air suddenly darkened and turned deathly cold.

“The shadow...remains...cast!” Bellatrix declared through blood-flecked fangs. And finally she unleashed her spell: A great shadow erupted from the ground, swamping all the exalts who’d set themselves against her. It drowned them in darkness, tearing them from the world, flinging them into Oblivion’s void....

Bellatrix finally gave herself over to death. She had fought well, she was sure. Now she would gladly go and meet her goddess.

~ ~ ~
The Gaoler lay in the darkness. There were many parts of her life that she wanted to forget, but a sibilant voice whispered, “Remember.” Deep in the shadows, Bellatrix stirred. And so did memories, unbidden, in her mind....

“Why did you not save us?” She remembered now, hours she’d spent prostrated in the darkness. During the Dragon Hunts especially, pleading, then demanding, that the Shadowbinder save them.

“We fought for your glory—and you left us to rot!”

“Left you?” the familiar voice, at last, responded. “I never left you, child. I fought alongside you. I defended you this entire time.”

“You lie!” Bellatrix roared. But even as she said it, the gates of her mind were opened. At last she perceived the terrible truth....

The Shadowbinder was right. The Witches had battled against the exalted forces of the other gods—and the Shadowbinder had protected them. She had struggled against her fellow deities, thwarting their attempts to interfere in the Dragon Hunts and eliminate the Witches directly. The Shadowbinder had heard every prayer, answered every plea. Yet in the end, all the Witches had been lost...

Hadn’t they?

“Your time here grows short. The long years have healed your body; now it is your soul that must be mended.”

Bellatrix didn’t understand. She stirred restlessly, feeling as though she were struggling against great bonds....

“A great light has risen anew in Sornieth—and so must the darkness meet it. Go, Bellatrix...” And then a chuckle, so deep it made the very earth shake. The goddess whispered, “Cast thy shadow upon the earth once more!”

~ ~ ~
And the earth was shaking. Bellatrix awoke with a gasp. She felt the ground pressing in on all sides, nearly crushing her...

And she erupted into brightness, roaring her confusion and rage.

Her voice was echoed by another roar, one she knew well. Bellatrix, blinking in the blinding sun, could hardly believe it, but there he was: her old rival Balder, emerging from the ground just as she had. His fur gleamed like new snow; his eyes were even more brilliant.

And he was as enraged, as ready to do battle. When the two Gaolers beheld each other, they assumed fighting stances. The Shadowbinder’s final words thundered in Bellatrix’s mind; indeed, she would cast her shadow. She would rid Sornieth of this arrogant Gaoler once more...

But before either of them could move, a Pearlcatcher descended from above, her long mane and robes swirling around her. Bellatrix paused, dumbfounded, as she recognized Himiko. And beyond her...

Towers, a city. Dragons from all Flights. All of them unfamiliar. And the air...Bellatrix inhaled deeply.

The air was...

Balder was still blinking groggily, but Himiko looked back at her now. The Pearlcatcher’s golden eyes were grave.

Bellatrix’s own eyes narrowed. “Child,” she rumbled, “how long have I been locked in slumber?”

~ ~ ~
Some days later, the Sectonian Council of Crowns reached a decision regarding the Gaolers. They could stay, but only if they agreed to reconcile—or at least keep their old grudges from overtaking them. The intersection of Light and Shadow had indeed brought calamity to Sornieth, and Bellatrix and Balder agreed that it should not happen again.

Bellatrix had many things on her mind. When she approached Balder, she greeted him civilly. She was surprised at how easily the soft words came to her now. They spoke of a new beginning, of rebuilding their orders. Under the banner of the Sectonian Empire, they would be allies, fighting against the Beastclans and the Shade....

“Is this why we have been reborn? To aid this empire against their enemies?”

“Perhaps. They fight for a greater cause, and the Lightweaver has welcomed them into her lands. I serve the Lightweaver, as I’ve always done.” Balder closed his eyes reverently. “I will gladly continue doing so.”

Bellatrix murmured words of idle agreement. She did not trust herself to make a more committed statement, for there was a thought she did not wish to share with Balder—

Could our goddesses have made a mistake?

Not now, but in the distant past, with the prophecy and their orders. Had the calamity passed? Were Light and Shadow free to join forces once again?

But Bellatrix also understood how rare it was for one to have been granted a second life. She would seize this new one gladly. There would be challenges ahead, she was sure, but she didn’t doubt that she would surmount those too—just as she always had.

~ written by Disillusionist (254672)
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