Duchess Dungeon Eater - Complete Story - Chapter 41 – The Dreams of War (2 of 2)

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That did it. That taste. That rush.

Isenwrath’s hunger erupted. Her mind blanked completely under her hunger’s influence. Her instincts took over from there. She shifted from Isenwrath the Black Knight Champion of Maciendes into the Abyssal Maw of Hunger Incarnate. A chimera had been unleashed, and all hell was breaking loose because of it.

She used the incoming food to burn her body completely … exciting it to grow beyond the armor’s limits. Plates spread apart but stayed on her body. Her mouth extended until it covered the entire tear.

She clamped down, locking herself in place.  Oddly, it was similar to when she locked her jaws around the Tower’s mana capacity testing posts.  They tasted the same… electrified metal.

The power shook her — violently, electrically, cosmically. It was too much. Nothing she had ever swallowed had been too much. But she had Superion. She had Celestia. She had herself.

Now that her mouth was locked around the whole door, she raised her black war mallet high above her head, and goddess’s and god’s be damned… she returned what she was pulling in to give it all back to Amikejiret.

Her plates shot power from every inch of her body into the mallet and like a reversed lightning rod, she let it loose.

All of it.

Every watt of imaginary power. Every altered reality wavelength. Every stolen dream. Every last drop of a child’s hope.

She set it all free with only one person to tell it what to do.  And that person — the one Isenwrath trusted with every watt of stolen power — rose from the edge of her world when she sensed it all racing back to her in one huge beam of energy.

Amikejiret lifted her hands to the sky to receive her power.  Tears streaked down her face. Her smile was exquisite pain — the kind born from hope returning after centuries of despair.

The energy arced toward her like a cosmic river. It struck her, filled her, recharged her. As she recharged, she grew — her body expanding, her presence magnifying, her essence blazing brighter and brighter until she was half the size of Isenwrath the giant black knight.

Then she unleashed it upon her dream and her world exploded outward.

From the core to the surface, layer by layer, the lost half of her realm returned. The ground rippled outward in waves of rebirth. The sky healed next; the atmosphere knitting itself together, memories of better times sparking the land to remember what it once was.

Water surged back into existence. Plant life erupted in cascades of color. Flora shimmered into being real again, and fauna followed, running free across the renewed plains and expanding forests.

The black spires remembered what they were in that moment of clarity.  They erupted with renewed purpose — some branching outward, unfolding into world trees once more. Others opened their eyes, yawned, stretched long‑unused limbs, and rose to walk the land again.  The black faded into browns, greens, and every conceivable color of flower as the spires blew apart into majestic woodlands.

The Ents had awoken. They roared in joy when they reclaimed their gardens of generosity, towering guardians of life restored to their rightful places.

The Xendrites stood proud again around the world trees — their homes — then walked out into the light of their four suns and sixty moons. The moons raced across the sky, chasing one another like children at play.

The Xendrites’ faces reconstructed into young, beautiful, radiant faces made of eternal joy and limitless wisdom. They spread ethereal white wings and danced upon the winds of change.

The screaming insane spirits — the ones who’d chased Isenwrath across the dying realm — were finally touched by calm love. The green and yellow golden glows rising from the restored lands soothed them. They landed, went silent, then solidified.

Blue‑skinned Xendrite children rose from those shades — laughing in pure wonder as Xendrite adults swooped them up in their arms to show them their world from the skies.

Then the rifts — once grey and useless — swelled to new life. One by one, each gate injected Amikejiret’s reality with everlasting vitality. Old vows renewed. New faiths rekindled. World upon world remembered the divine heavens that awaited their souls.

The power shut off suddenly, throwing Isenwrath backward where she crashed into the renewed plains of tranquility. The tear was gone. The door’s massive frame cracked, chipped, then dissolved into rusty dust.

But the renewed life didn’t fade.  Instead, it intensified.

New souls flitted in to begin their journeys from afterlife to new life. Their new energy swelled the queen and dream with even more potential to do something positive again, instead of necessary evil.

Isenwrath slowly shrank back to her normal size, lying still within the crater. Her body ached. She felt drained.  She wasn’t hungry, just… emptied.

Amikejiret appeared beside her, smiling in triumph, but she looked vastly different.

White hair now flowed from her head, waving as if she floated underwater. Her skin had deepened to a rich blue, with golden sigils glowing faintly across her arms and legs. Her old black leather‑like outfit was gone to be replaced by a simple green dress that matched her star‑shaped irises.

Her smile was still beautiful.

She knelt beside Isenwrath, kissed the side of her visor, and whispered:

“I thank you for saving me and my dreaming. I want to say so many things to you, but none are worth what you did for me. My people are living again. Yours and all others who come will live again too. This healing is spreading to the rest of my world, Isen. Laiken failed all because of you.”

Isenwrath exhaled, exhausted but steady.

“You’re welcome. What now?”

“I guess I need to send you back to where you came from,” Amikejiret said softly, still kneeling beside her. “I’ll have to let you deal with the aftermath. Sorry, but I shouldn’t interfere with that.”

She hesitated, then smiled with a spark of mischief.

“However, I do have something that might help you. Wanna hear about it?”

Isenwrath nodded.

Amikejiret leaned in close, whispering into her ear — a secret, a gift, a blessing. When Isenwrath heard it, she giggled. Actually giggled. A bright, delighted sound that echoed across the newly reborn dream.

“That’s perfect,” she said. “What about the dungeons?”

Amikejiret shrugged, her new white hair drifting like silk in water. “Up to you. If you keep them, just know that once a core gets destroyed, it’s gone forever. In time, I do hope your world relegates them to myth and legend.”

Isenwrath shook her head. “Too much is built on their existence now. I think we should leave them. Let us wipe them out on our own in time.”

“Very wise,” Amikejiret murmured.

Isenwrath turned her head, gazing up at the sky — the four suns, the sixty moons, the dancing winds, the reborn world breathing again.

“It’s pretty,” she said quietly. “I like it.”

Amikejiret’s smile softened even more. “I think I can give you one reward if you want.  Since you’re still trapped within Celestia, I can let you come back whenever you want. Would you like that? Just to come and sit with me? Let me get to know you properly?”

Isenwrath nodded. “I’d like that too. I like having friends.”

“You’re still my first,” Amikejiret whispered.

“I won’t be your last,” Isenwrath promised. “I’ll find a way to bring a few more with me.  Hey, when I come back, can I bring a lost spirit with me?”

Amikejiret laughed softly.  It was low, warm, relieved.  “Any of them you bring me will be taken in and treated with the best of dreams.  It’d be my honor.”  Then she leaned in and kissed the side of Isenwrath’s helmet again. When she did, their agreement became manifest. A permission. A promise. A bond.

Isenwrath slowly stood, planting her feet firmly in the renewed soil. She hefted her mallet onto her shoulder, feeling its familiar weight.

“I’m ready,” she said. “Send me back to my Sweetheart.”

Amikejiret bowed a queen’s bow, full of gratitude and respect. Then she simply snapped her fingers.

Isenwrath expected chaos.  She expected death.  She expected blood.  She expected to stand within a huge mess of fighting and demand for peace.

She appeared on the rise overlooking the valley … forty feet tall, armor gleaming, hammer in hand and froze in absolute, abso‑fucking‑lute confusion. Her hammer slipped from her limp fingers and thudded into the ground.

Toys everywhere.  Naked soldiers and mages… every-damned-where.  The whole valley and the plain beyond were filled to the brim with people lining up to receive meager clothing and food while trains of them were beginning to make long treks home.

As she stood there dumbstruck at her forty-foot height where she could see all of the madness, she felt a tap on her arm.  She turned to see the original Shinenoor Trapmaster, Malganneth looking at her with glowing blue amused eyes.

“Malganneth?  What’s going on here?  What happened?  Why is everyone naked?  That’s not how you fight a war, is it?”

Malganneth laughed loudly enough for it to echo around the place.  The other bosses from Shinenoor had been close by and were surrounding her while she spoke to the one spirit she held that was so very much more than he ever seemed.

“No, my Lady.  That’s how you end a war immediately.  Blame your pet dragon and his brother, sister, and their kin.”

“Bubblescale did this?” she asked incredulous.

“Aye, they did.  They did exactly as you wanted.  If I recall, you told him to help take Daniella back and then help your Sweetie-pie end the war.  Well, that big boy did exactly that.”

Isenwrath lowered her head and put her hand over her helmeted face. “Maddock is going to pinch my ass for this; I just know it!”

“No, Isen.  He’s going to be happy you’re home safe.”

Isenwrath took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. People were already noticing her return — pointing, shouting, running to inform Maddock and the commanders. She didn’t have much time before she’d be swarmed to do something important while she had the chance.

“Thank you for helping,” she said firmly. “I’m proud of you all. I’ll return you to your rest now.”

Their tired cheers made her smile and laugh softly. With a gentle wave, their de‑spawning circles appeared beneath them, returning their memories to their resting places within her.

When they were gone, she turned her magenta gaze to Malganneth.

“I now know who you really were.”

“Doesn’t matter.  I’m just a memory.  You should return me just the same.”

“No.  That’s where you… you’re the only one I’ve been holding who isn’t just a memory.  I killed you horribly and I’m sorry.”

“You did,” he said. “But you won. You beat the trap.”

“No, I didn’t. I realize now I fell into the same one you did. Amikejiret confirmed Celestia was also a trap. Forevermore I’m trapped in this cage created by a dying deity for her survival. And while it’s useful… it’s still—”

“It was never a cage,” Malganneth said gently. “Don’t think of it like that. It was simply a means to an end. They suit you better than me anyhow. I can tell.”

Isenwrath stepped closer. “I want to know right now, what would you wish for.  I think that it’s only right to grant you the wish you were never given.”

“You know what I’d wish for,” he said softly. “But you can’t grant it.”

“I can’t,” she agreed. “But Amikejiret is my friend. If I ask her nicely, she’ll help me. So make that wish, Malganneth.”

The Black Knight reached up, unclasped his helm, and removed it.

He revealed an old, weathered face — the face of a man who had lived every day in the wilds. His glowing blue eyes were gentler without the helmet. His beard was unkempt, but his smile was brilliant.

“I wish to be Laiken’s gentle man again,” he said. “She still needs me so she can be a better goddess. I still need her to be… a good person. I need her to be with me. Just me.”

Isenwrath placed her hand on his shoulder.

“Wish granted.”

His armor dusted away, leaving him in simple brown woolen pants. The armor had been a copy of Celestia, not the wish. The wish was what she did next.

She leaned forward, opened her maw, and sent the actual flesh of Malganneth — the god‑flesh she had consumed — back into the dream‑made flesh she held in her gauntleted hand. It wrapped around him, replacing what he had been made of.

When his body was remade, she retrieved Amikejiret’s gift.  It was a fresh dungeon core, blank and full of potential. A seed of reality. A memory engine. A rebirth.

She pressed the core into Malganneth’s chest.

He sucked in a breath as his whole body flared brilliant white. Streaks of light shot outward, circled back, and reabsorbed into him. The sound of the magical infusion silenced thousands of conversations across the valley.

Twelve armies watched in awe as a god was brought back from the dead.

When it was done, Malganneth stood with his eyes closed, breathing deep cleansing breaths.

Thirty seconds later, he chuckled.

Then laughed.

Then erupted into loud, genuine mirth — holding his head and belly.

Isenwrath giggled too. It was infectious.

Finally, he wheezed out, “I just remembered what the hell we were fighting about. It was so stupid!”

Isenwrath leaned in. “What was it?! You have to tell me!” she demanded.

He wiped his eyes, still laughing.

“Laiken can’t admit she’s ever wrong. I told her she gave the trolls pointy teeth, but they weren’t mainly meat eaters. I suggested she introduce a little evolution to help them out. She wouldn’t admit she’d forgotten and instead dug her heels in saying they needed those teeth for defense and threat displays. I got so frustrated I had to go take a walk.”

Isenwrath shook her head sadly.

“Is that how you ended up in Shinenoor? An accident?”

Malganneth looked embarrassed.

“Something like that. I was so mad at her stubbornness I didn’t know what to do. Then I heard about the new dungeon that spit out treasure. I got curious. I looked into the lives of the people around it and got confused. So, I entered it alone. Being what I was… am… I jumped to the end and saw it. The armor and the hammer. It looked so nice… I thought maybe if I came home looking magnificent, she’d stop ranting and… listen again.”

“Oh,” Isenwrath said softly. “It was just a stupid accident then.”

“It was so stupid. I—”

“You have a second chance,” she said. “Forget the trolls. Go home and make her be a better goddess. For all our sakes.”

Malganneth grinned, winked, and squeezed her shoulder.

“I think it’s long past time I reminded a certain goddess that kindness and forgiveness are supposed to be her strengths, not her weapons.”

“I’d like that too,” Isenwrath said solemnly.

He stepped back, looked around at the naked armies and scattered toys, and chuckled.

“Good luck cleaning up this mess. I’m rooting for you.”

“Thanks. Good luck keeping her in check. I’m rooting for you too.”

The thunder giant god smiled widely before shimmering away, his echoing chuckles drifting across the valley.

It made Isenwrath smile rather happily.

She didn’t have to help Laiken, the Goddess. But that wasn’t the point of doing what was right. You didn’t always have to do what was right. Sometimes it just felt good to do it anyway. Besides, Isenwrath did kind of feel bad for literally eating him.  So, this little unexpected opportunity helped a little with atoning for that guilt.

Isenwrath finally saw them.  Maddock, his commanders, as well as a few other commanders from the other nine realm armies were racing towards her as she stood tall and proud among the milling crowds.  Apparently, she was causing a stir again and after what just happened with The Gentle Man, she was certain she was going to get interrogated a lot more than she’d be comfortable with.

--- Earlier within Maddock’s Command Tent within the Hagensdamp Forest ---

Grand Marshal Maddock Devonshire had a massive migraine.

He squeezed the bridge of his nose, rubbed his temples, and opened his eyes again to stare at the hastily written reports his field commanders had brought him. Organized chaos… that was the only phrase that fit what was happening out on the plains of Deshaun and the valley below.

His counts and viscounts had responded well, hauling in rations and homespun clothing from every village that could spare it. But of course, it wasn’t enough. Outfitting his own people — Maximillian and his mages included — after they’d been struck naked had stripped Maddock of most of his uniforms, tents, and even food sacks. Anything that could give the soldiers even a shred of dignity had been repurposed.

Food was worse.  No one and especially an army can’t march for very long on an empty stomach.

One small meal for everyone had depleted everything Maddock had… plus most of the readily available game in the area. Magic helped, but conjured food wasn’t nourishing enough to sustain thousands.

Thankfully, Queen Devellina Goldenspire of Seraphelle had ordered her entire army into the skies, making long flying runs to Everthane and Maciendes to bring reinforcements from every village and even the capitals. The relay gates were great but they couldn’t handle this many people. The mages couldn’t handle this many people without burning themselves out. 

Thankfully, Princess Hayleigh had been no slouch back home.  Maddock was heartened to hear how she helped King Henry rally all of those second and third generation mages alongside the Princes’ eldritch cadets to get the word out, to get the supplies moving, and keep tabs of the promises that would need to be collected later.  Hayleigh had stepped up and Maddock was sure her parents were going to be both astonished and proud of her.  Maddock sure was.

At least the Drakhulder and Nivorathians were taking clothing only and marching home. That did help the food situation somewhat. They could fend for themselves with their natural weapons and instincts.  They’d also been far too humbled to stick around for any longer than necessary.

The dwarves had made a hastily written, half‑assed treaty with Maddock and with the Dark Elves’ Under‑Generals signing as guarantors. Holes in the ground opened to allow them passage into the underdark, leading them through Ezzerbenenian territory. Maddock could only imagine how much Queen Ursletta was going to use that against the Ashenuard King in the coming years.

Food and clothing aside, things weren’t too bad, all things considered. Everyone was on equal footing, pun intended, and grateful for every kindness given.

King Henry’s latest communication had been light on Summit details but heavy on aid coordination. Ironically, he hadn’t been needed to protect Maciendes or Everthane.  Instead, he’d been needed to coordinate the largest humanitarian relief effort ever demanded of a monarch.  And he was doing a far superior job of that than Maddock thought even Tobey could provide.  It sure helped that he still had a strong relationship with the Angellicines.

The next round of Angellicine flyers would prove it when they brought in their first shipments of rations and sacks of fruits and vegetables.

Maddock also signed off on the Kharvoss Dominion’s request for Thyeriand to escort them through their territory — and to haul an enormous amount of toys with them. Maddock had laughed at first but then realized it made sense. Orcs and goblinoids didn’t normally have fancy toys for their children. Their culture was still brutal, still barbaric, but they loved to laugh and tell funny stories. If they wanted to fill their realm with joy and help clean up his battlefield; Maddock wasn’t going to question it.

He even added a note allowing them to use abandoned wagons to load up the toys.  A gesture like that made him feel good as well as earning him and Tobey some orcish gratitude.

Maddock sighed heavily before he waved at the last stack of signed documents.

A Thallyessain elven general, a Sylvarinth Tower Mage, and a Vaelorian Battlemagi stepped forward, took their packets, saluted silently, and left as quietly as possible.

No one wanted to wake the sleeping girl behind Maddock nor the twenty‑one rainbow dragonlings curled around her. No one in their right mind wanted to piss off those magical dragons to see what else they could do besides turn all your shit into nonsense.

Maddock looked back at Daniella, curled up holding Bubblescale, breathing deeply. The dragonlings were piled on top of them, purring in their sleep. It was sweet. It didn’t help that both he and Daniella were still worried about Isenwrath, who had yet to return.  She’d tried her best to stay awake, but she’d been up for almost 28 hours by the time she and her dragons landed, so Maddock told her to rest.  She passed out almost immediately.  The dragons hadn’t let her out of sight since they’d landed and had surrounded her to do the same.

The sight of them was something he hoped Isenwrath would see because of how sweet it was.

Maximillian Maciendes quietly opened the tent flap and smiled winningly. Maddock held a finger to his lips. Maximillian nodded, stepped in, and sat in a folding chair, studying Daniella and her dragons.

“I received word from the Summit,” Maximillian whispered.

Maddock leaned forward, gripping the edge of the table, knuckles white due to his need to know.

Maximillian put his hands behind his head, smug and satisfied. “They did it. All nine rulers have had their spirits purged. Diegan killed Richard. The whole place is set to restart tomorrow with fresh minds. And I’m betting Tobey is dancing a jig with all the political capital he’s got now.”

Maddock barked a laugh, relieved at hearing the news. “Oh, the concessions they’re gonna have to make to Maciendes… ooohhh boy, I wish I was there to hear it.”

“Sebas apologized to you and Isenwrath,” Maximillian added. “He’s been cowed. I believe we have a new era ahead of us. Maybe even one where Tobey can unite all lands under his wisdom.”

Maddock shrugged.  “Wouldn’t be the worst thing. And whatever Sebas says or doesn’t say is moot because he probably knows by now that if he comes at me again, it won’t be me that will say anything, it’ll be Tobey and that’s very dangerous, especially after what just happened.”

He caught the glint in Maximillian’s eye but ignored it. Whatever political machinations Maxi had brewing, Tobey would tell him to shove it if he didn’t like it.

Maddock rolled his eyes a little, then changed the subject.  “Any news about Duke Forthington?”

Maximillian’s eyes twinkled this time. “King Henry ordered his lands transferred to his youngest son. The Duke himself will be tried for treason. The youngest wasn’t involved so he’s being spared to married into the Destriscue house as already contractually agreed to. His father… not so much.”

“And the Carlisles?”

“House arrest,” Maximillian said, shrugging this time. “Nothing they can be pinned for.”

“Good,” Maddock said grimly.

Maximillian raised an eyebrow but didn’t get time to ask.

The tent flap opened.

Endria Lokian, leader of the Thanigrellan Mercenary Corp and rescuer of Daniella Delancy, stepped in quietly.

“You sent for me, my Lord?” she asked, bowing low.

Maddock sat forward, pulling over a sealed scroll and a black bag cinched tight with wire.  “I did. Please sit. I want to discuss something with you.”

Endria bowed to Maximillian, then took the last folding chair, sitting with her hands on her crossed knees.

“I’m listening.”

Maddock slid the scroll over.  “This is something I want you and your team to handle. Because of your success, I’m entrusting you with this. If you succeed, we’ll discuss a minor royal title besides the payment.”

Endria sucked in a breath.  A minor royal title was truly a larger reward than any sack of coin. She broke the seal with shaking hands and read quickly. Her necromancer’s half‑hood hid very little of her emotion, she was that stunned.

She pulled her hood back so Maddock could see her eyes.  A true trust exercise for her. “You trust me enough to give me this assignment? There’s a lot of potential backlash if we fail or if it gets out or—”

“I do,” Maddock said warmly. “I also know you won’t fail. Nor would you betray me — or Isenwrath.”

Endria smiled. “I did ask a stupid question. Of course I’ll accept. With pleasure.”

Maddock handed her his quill. She signed without hesitation, slid the scroll back, and tucked the black bag into her robe without even checking its contents. 

Maddock rolled the document up then put it away into his own inner pocket under his chest armor.  It was a personal contract, so he’d keep this special contract on his person until he was safe at home.

“ISENWRATH IS BACK!”

Maddock, Maximillian, and Endria shot up to their feet when they heard the shout from one of the messengers screaming at the top of his lungs.

“IT’S OVER!  ISENWRATH IS BACK!” came the excited shout that’d gotten closer.

Maddock shot a look over his shoulder and saw Daniella up and rubbing her eyes quickly.

The tent flap flew open and one of the young mages under Thena’s command burst through.

“Grand Marshall!  Lady Isenwrath is back!  She’s standing in the battlefield…. She was with The Gentleman!”

Maddock held up his hand.  The young black-haired mage stopped with his mouth open before he shouted again.  He gulped down whatever he was about to say and went silent.

“What do you mean, she was with The Gentleman?”

The mage smoothed his hands over his face then nodded affirmatively.  “I saw it.  My lord, the Black Knight she sent to help us was in fact the Gentleman God.  We heard him.  I… I heard him.  He’s real.  The story never said he was a thunder giant!  They’re still talking!  Please!  You must come!”

Maddock looked back at Daniella.  She looked up at him.  “My matron is home.  Nothing else matters.  So, we going to go welcome her back or what?”

Maximillian laughed first, loud and infectious.  Maddock scooped Daniella up in his arms laughing with Endria as he did so.  “Yes, Daniella.  I do have a promise to keep, after all.”

Daniella hugged him quickly then pointed out the tent flap.  “I get first hug!  Move it, soldier!”

A Grand Marshall carrying a young beast-kin personal maid, a Tower Master Arch Magister, a Mercenary Necromancer Guildmaster, twenty-one rainbow scaled dragonlings ran out of that tent followed by a young ducal mage grinning widely.  They were the first to get on horses and charge out of the basecamp to welcome Isenwrath back home and see the Gentleman.  And the rest of the camp followed.

Maddock let Bonfire have her head and let her set the pace.  She raced ahead as if she too wanted to see Isenwrath.

After clearing the valley, their pace slowed because what they saw was more than unexpected… it was just incredible.

Isenwrath was touching a god.  Her hand was on his chest with bright light flaring all around it and the huge giant. When the light show ended, the Gentleman was surrounded by a gleaming aura that made it clear that he was no mortal being. 

As they galloped, Maddock could almost understand their voices even when still so far away.  As they galloped closer, Maddock could almost hear their voices. Two‑thirds of the way there, the Gentleman touched Isenwrath’s shoulder, said his farewell, and shimmered out of existence. But Isenwrath was and she must’ve sensed him coming because she turned to watch the whole entire basecamp coming hauling ass her way.

Daniella loudly proclaimed, “She’s not a black knight anymore!  She’s a white knight!”

Maddock agreed with Daniella’s awe.

Isenwrath had changed.  Her armor gleamed white with silver edges and red fanciful designs on the larger plates as well as silver feathers on the side of her helmet and off of her shoulders.  Yet Maddock noticed the true change.  Her eyes were glowing almost purple instead of red.   Something bigger than saving the Demon Queen had to have happened for something so fundamental Isenwrath to be different now.

Isenwrath began to shrink when the whole train of people slowed to a stop in front of her.  Her helmet disappeared and so too did the purple glow of her eyes.  She was smiling brightly when she knelt and held her arms out.  Daniella had hopped off Maddock’s lap before Bonfire had completely stopped to run right into her arms.  She was followed by a dreadflight of rainbows and purrs that barreled into both of them causing not just joy, but a blinding light show that almost hurt the eyes to watch.

“Isen!  You’re back!” screamed Daniella happily as she got her first hug in.

Isenwrath held her up and squeezed her tightly, then said, “I am.”  Then she looked around her and asked loudly, “Where the blazes did you all come from?”

Bubblescale climbed up on her shoulder, nuzzled her head, then whispered into her ear, “I called them from Bahamut’s heaven where you summoned me from.  Seriously, did you really think a whimsy spell could create me? On no, you called and Bahamut answered.  He’s been amused ever since.”

Isenwrath looked at Bubblescale with wide eyes of wonder.  “You can talk?”

He chirped a laugh then put his nose right to hers, “I tell you that Bahamut the Dragon God noticed you and the first thing you ask me is ‘you can talk?’”

Isenwrath barked a laugh.  “Well, yeah.  I don’t know who Bahamut is.  Is he your dad or something?”

Bubblescale snorted, shaking his head sharply, then looked down at the unruly mess of his kin and friends. “Told you she didn’t know!  When we get back, we’re gonna raid the pastry shop!”

Daniella popped his head lightly.  “NO!  Bad manners! Tell him, my Matron!”

Isenwrath pulled Bubblescale’s head to hers and nuzzled him back.  “Thank you for the warm welcome.  No raids, though.  I’ll bring you and them all something yummy when we get settled.  My promise.”

Bubblescale nibbled her cheek and hair before hop flapping down to join in on the game of racing around everyone’s feet just to be annoying.  Dragonlings do crap like that because they think it’s funny.

Isenwrath let Daniella down because someone had stepped up to her.

When she turned, she saw him and her breath caught.

She tilted her head and quirked an eyebrow at him, staring at his snow-white hair.

Maddock rubbed the back of his head, suddenly nervous for some undefined reason that he was ashamed to admit he was feeling.

Isenwrath asked gently, “Hoarfrost?”

Maddock nodded shyly, not looking at her.

She saw his half-grin and jumped right into him, embracing him tightly.  “We match!” she squealed in delight as he swung her around twice laughing in the joy of having her in his arms again, armor and all.

He set her down and sighed.  “Welcome back.  Did you win?”

She nodded.  “I saved her.  She’s already closed the rift.  It’s just a fuzzy spot for now that only the spirits can move through until a long time has passed or something like that.”

“Good.  No more incursions.”

Isenwrath pulled back and moved her hands up to both sides of his handsome if a bit dirty face.  “No more incursions.  The demon menace is over.  And guess what?”

Maddock held her around her waist and studied her face closely. “What?”

“I’m Isenwrath.  No more am I two essences in one body.  We merged fully and… what you see is what you get.”

Smiling wider, Maddock asked, “So, does this mean what I think it means?”

She nodded, eyes even more overjoyed.  “It does.  A white dress.  A gold chain.  A temple priest telling us we’re bound forever in front of everyone.  The sooner the better, Ice Duke, or else…” that last was said with her fist threatening him playfully.

Maddock liked that look in her eye and that smile on her face.  “As you wish, Duchess Dungeon Eater.”

She squawked at him, then said indignantly, “That’s not my title!  I’m the White Knight Champion of Maciendes now!  Damn it!  You ruined it!  You ruined the mood… AGAIN!”

Maddock guffawed loudly.  “I had to!  This is a battlefield, Isen!  We don’t do mushy stuff on the battlefield!  You know that!” he said with loud sarcasm.  Their banter just kept drawing in the laughter from hundreds.  All of those people were watching, laughing, making snide comments, and basically enjoying having their Lady Isenwrath, the White Knight Champion of Maciendes back.

“Daniella, hold him still!” Isenwrath commanded.  “Crap! He’s wearing armor too!  I can’t tickle him right with it on!”

“Matron!  We need more hands!” Daniella announced loudly, trying her best to help her matron tickle the big smug lout between them.

“Right!  Just wait, Maddock!  When I get you back, me and Isarrvashj are gonna strip you down and turn you over my knee!  I’m grown up now and it’s my right to pop your butt… you butt!”

“Stop threatening me with a good time!  It won’t work!” Maddock rebuked laughingly which caused a riot of men to laugh so much louder and jeer with him.

Isenwrath grabbed him by the collar and pulled him in. “I knew it!  You do want to have more than one wife!  Yes! Isarrvashj is approved!  I’ll have three babies and she’ll have three babies!  This is great news!  Thanks, Sweetheart!”

Maddock’s mouth was agape in shock.  So was Daniella’s.  And most everyone else’s. Except those who rolled their eyes to the heavens like Harmony and Beatrice behind Maddock.

“Uuuhhhhh!  That was a euphemism, Isen!  That’s not what I meant!” Maddock protested.

Isenwrath took firm hold of his waist and Daniella’s hand.  “Oh shush!  Momma Barla told me she wants us to have six babies.  If you split the load, we’ll have more help and more fun.  We can’t disappoint Momma Barla, now can we, Sweetheart?”

Maddock looked around for support.  None of the men looked at him with anything but amused jealousy.  The women were eyeing him like he was next on their hit list with a few of his other soldier gals openly threatening him by smacking fists into their palms. 

He turned to Isenwrath and said loudly, “We’ll discuss this when we get back and after I tell that evil woman Barla to stop filling your head with crap!  Let’s go before you say something else that’ll get me in deep shit!”

Isenwrath laughed even more at how red Maddock’s face had gotten.  Daniella was snickering at him openly at her side, which was wonderful to hear again.  So, she decided to heap just a little more on her future husband because it was just funny.  “You do know that if you marry Isarrvashj as a second wife, your children will then have a chance to be a true queen of Ezzerbenania since my adoption doesn’t count?  Or one could be king of Maciendes.  OOO! Or both, right?!  I mean, who says the crown wouldn’t choose one of our children next? So, I’ll just tell Isarrvashj the good news after our wedding and…”

Maddock looked up at the heavens and screamed in joy, “I’M DOOMED!  HILL SPIRITS SAVE ME FROM THIS WOMAN!”

Beatrice and Harmony both being way too happy at making their Grand Marshall’s life even more interesting, yelled from behind him in unison, “REQUEST DENIED!”

The roar of laughter from all around them followed Maddock a long way back towards base camp.  His whole face was hurting from smiling and laughing with them.  His heart though… that poor muscle in his chest hurt in the best way when Isenwrath pulled him in close and kissed him in front of everyone right in the center of the camp. 

She wasn’t a child anymore.  She wasn’t a monster either.  She was a woman that Maddock had promised his heart to, and she promised hers in return almost from the day they met.  That kiss was better than any kiss before between them.  Why?  Because Isenwrath was just Isenwrath and Maddock knew the difference and fell in love with her all over again.  Even if she had way too much fun trying to drive him crazy.  And eating basilisks for fun, let’s not forget that little tidbit.