The Heavenly Court has ruled the Coalition benevolently for the entire length of recorded history. The prosperity of every world was brought about by their wisdom. Only the foolish reject the debt that they owe the gracious Court that allowed them to exist in the first place.

  - Cain Beauregard, Chancellor of Phalas

  It was a giddy feeling for Apexillos. The scintillating swirl of colors surrounded him, forming a visual like a long tunnel that he was soaring through, wings spread wide. It had a very light feeling, like that of catching the perfect updraft, yet without any strain on his wings. He felt the subtle flow of magic through him, coming from somewhere deep inside and pulsing within, giving him the feeling of motion through the rainbow of the tunnel.

  “Looks like you took a hit in the side, but the damage isn’t too bad. I can probably repair the subsystems myself, but replacing the armor is going to take a lot more work.” He heard the woman let out a long breath. “I can’t believe we got out of there alive.”

  So she was with him. Apexillos did not know exactly how that came to be, but his guess was some sort of spirit that was riding along in his mind. Spirits usually did not sigh like that, though. And armor? Damage? He did feel an ache in his side, but since awakening he had not been given the chance to inspect his own body, aside from brief glimpses. Now he had to confront the wrongness he’d seen in brief flashes before.

  The dragon turned his long, sinuous neck to the side to examine his form.

  He was still a dragon. Without anything to compare with for scale, he wouldn’t even have been able to tell he was larger. The shape was right, aside from a few details – the legs were too short, for one – but it was certainly not his body.

  Gone were his shining, blood red scales, replaced by rippling plates of metal and ceramic. Worse, the manufacture of them looked… old, weathered and scarred with multiple marks of scorching and newer-looking patches where the armor had been replaced quickly. Between the plates, a faint orange glow seeped out, but several plates also showed a shining glassy surface that revealed space inside his own body.

  His wings were not as flexible, but were magnificent at least, stretching out in a show of majesty to either side. Some sort of crystalline membrane shimmered between the fingers of his wings, now alight with magical energy that reacted to the rainbow light of the tunnel. Two large, rectangular boxes hung beneath the wings, and the text in his vision helpfully identified these as the ‘boost thrusters’ he had used earlier.

  He was a machine.

  “Since you haven’t said anything, you probably don’t know how yet, do you?” The female voice asked. “It should be easy once you know how, but nobody has ever tried this before. Try looking inward, as if you could see your own insides. Speaking into what you see should come naturally. If you don’t say anything in a few minutes, I’ll guide you through trying something else.”

  When Apexillos tried that, he suffered a moment of vertigo – an alien sensation to him – before his mind adapted. He saw in his mind’s eye a vast spread of views, although some of them were dark. Each showed a room inside some structure, and a few showed the side of the tunnel… or even his tail swaying behind him. He could see from other angles without even bothering to move his head.

  Only one of the views had anyone present. He focused on that one, and it dominated his vision, revealing a perspective of the room from one of the upper corners.

  It held five aged but upholstered chairs, each capable of swiveling about freely, and each one set before a display of gleaming glass and blinking lights. Apexillos was sharp enough to recognize these as some kind of device, although he could not fathom the purpose. The chairs faced the wall his viewpoint was upon, so he could not see what they were looking at, but instead had a good view of the metal door leading into the room. He saw no hinges, so presumed it slid into the wall.

  Only one person was in the room, rising from the chair to stretch. A slender figure with long golden hair, wearing a sleek and skin-tight fabric of silver that hugged the body. A more plush, old-looking brown jacket covered her upper body, left open in front, and she wore a belt with various tools upon it.

  Apexillos was not great at distinguishing the Lesser Folk, but better than most other dragons. Most would notice the tapered point to the woman’s ears, though, and he was proud to know he would have recognized she was female even without her voice.

  “Who are you?” He willed his voice to say. It came out in the room sounding… deeper, gravelly and without the precise enunciation he was used to hearing. Not his voice, but a voice, at least. Enough that the woman understood it and paused her stretch, giving a smile toward him… so she must know where the strange clairvoyance was positioned.

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  The elf put a hand on one hip and let out a sigh. “That’s your first question? I guess it’s as good as any. Before we continue, I am speaking to Apexillos, right? The Great Dragon? I can’t imagine who else you might be, but might as well make sure.”

  He fought down the urge to growl, uncertain how it would sound in the new voice. “I am, though this voice is not mine. Now answer me: who are you, elf? Where am I? How did you come to be inside me?”

  She held up her free hand. “One question at a time. For now, just call me Sallus, or Sal for short. The rest of my name probably wouldn’t matter to you.” She took a deep breath and eased back into one of the chairs, sliding her hand through her bangs. “As for the other questions… that is a little complicated.”

  Apexillos waited. His anger was suppressed now that the confusion and immediate crisis was over, and he realized that he knew nothing. He couldn’t trust the elf, but right now he needed whatever information he could get.

  “First, where you are is less important than when,” she began. “And even I’m not completely sure of how to say that. I’m also not sure how intact your memory is, but you were defeated and… killed… several thousand years ago.”

  She held up a finger. “Before you ask, you’re a legend, but we don’t know the exact date. But you did die, and I’m sure you realize how that complicates a lot of things.”

  This explained so much. Apexillos had many questions, but just this amount of information clarified his situation in ways that the elf likely did not realize. The strange craft, the exotic clothing, the flippant and disrespectful way Sallus spoke to him… the weight of the ages had changed the world, and he could understand that. He also understood that he would need to approach everything cautiously.

  “So you somehow pulled my soul across the ages and put it within this metal body.” He spoke bluntly of his conclusion, and was certain enough that he did not make it a question. “It appears to have been well-worn even before the battle. Hardly suitable if you wished to have my cooperation.”

  The smile fell from the elf’s face. “I do apologize for that. Finding a mostly-intact Draconis was hard enough. Very few were made, and that was centuries ago. We’d intended to fully refurbish and update the entire ship before summoning you into it, but we were found and attacked before we’d completed that.”

  This sort of thing Apexillos could understand. Being caught unprepared and doing things without full readiness? That was a mirror of how he’d died. In a way, this had been a second chance, one that he had used to escape with his life.

  Though he fully intended to find the craft that had injured him and pay them back tenfold.

  But first, he needed more information.

  “And why did you choose to bring me back, elf?” The rumbling voice was not his, but Apexillos was not averse to using the deep notes in a way that lent more gravitas to his question. He was a dragon, but he was also unaware of just how limited his strength was right now. Until he had a chance to explore his limits, he would be cautious.

  She crossed her arms. The elf stared at him through that strange viewpoint, her lip twitching. “I realize that you are not used to this, but if we are going to work together, you need to call me by my name. Without me, you would not even be speaking, remember. And for the time being, you need me to explain how you work, and to repair your body. You can’t heal naturally any more.”

  That gave the dragon pause. He mulled that thought about in his head, and as a test, reached for his magic. Not his true Essence… just the normal magic that he could use.

  He found his reserves… pitifully depleted. Even when he had died, he was sure he’d had far more than what little power coursed through this cold body of steel. It was not what he wanted to find, but it was one test of many. He was in an unfamiliar world, an unfamiliar body, and this Lesser Folk… this elf was the only one who could provide answers.

  His pride was great, but not so great he would let it get in the way of what needed to be done.

  “Very well,” he replied in a deep growling tone. “Sallus, why did you bring me back? I have no love of your kind… even less, now that I died by the hand of some like you.”

  The smile came back to Sallus’s face, but she did not relax. “Better.” She paused to breathe in and sort her thoughts. “Dragons are all but extinct, now. Some of your lesser cousins remain on the homeworld, but that place…”

  She trailed off, shook her head. “No, that isn’t the right place to begin.”

  Pushing herself to her feet, the blonde elf walked away, hands tucked behind her. She tried again to explain. “Sorry, I’ve dreamed of doing this speech for years, but always thought I’d have more time and you’d be more prepared.”

  “And how long will we be in this strange tunnel?” Apexillos asked, his attention briefly flickering back to the swirling, ever-changing phlogiston outside.

  Sallus looked toward his ‘sight’ again. “Oh yes, the Etherglide. We have a few hours, but I will need to eat and try to catch some sleep. Once we exit I’ll work on some repairs and we’ll plot our next move.”

  Explaining the immediate plans seemed to center the elf, and she straightened up with more confidence.

  “I called you here because the legends say you were the last,” she stated firmly. “In my research, I learned of a small, hidden fact that the Coalition has tried very hard to purge. If it is true, then you and I have a common goal. Perhaps different reasons for it, but I can’t hope to do it alone.”

  She stopped herself from pacing, straightened again, and gave an almost apologetic smile. “And you could not pursue yours, either, since you were dead. You might say that favor of fixing that problem was a gesture of goodwill. Horrifically expensive for me, of course, and… in lives of those lost at the hideout. But I expect nothing in return there, except that you listen to my proposal.”

  Apexillos let out a snort, and was surprised to hear that his projected voice echoed the noise, even without his lungs to carry it. “And you did not have the power to remake my body after all this time, so you put me into some kind of star-sailing craft shaped like a dragon. I have doubts we have any goals in common, and wonder what ancient lore would suggest such.”

  Sallus clucked her tongue. “Now, now, Apex. I know you have a dim view of my kind, but I was very thorough in my research. I’m sure we want the same thing.”

  The elf’s smile widened, one side of her lip curling up into a smirk.

  “Much like you… I want to kill the thirteen heroes.”