Bora Bora opened his eyes to see a canopy of leaves far above him. It was hot wherever he was, but not unbearably so. The cooling tinkle of running water sounded from somewhere nearby. A creek or small river, perhaps. The surface on which he rested was soft and springy, which made him think of the moss that grew on forest floors. So he was in a forest somewhere, he decided. But exactly where, he couldn’t be sure. He flexed his hands and feet experimentally, mildly surprised to see that they still worked.

“You’re finally awake.”

Before he knew what had happened, Bora Bora was up on his feet in a flash, his hand reaching out to call his scythe to his hand. But it did not come. Confused and slightly angry, he tried again. It was only then he spotted the weapon. It was in the firm grip of a woman, who was sitting mere inches from where he’d lain. The weapon was struggling to come to his hand, so she had a powerful grip on her. He resisted the effort to attack her right away, sensing that in his weakened state, this would be foolish to the point of suicide.

“Who are you?” He asked. As he spoke, he noticed how raspy his voice had become due to dehydration. So he’d been unconscious for at least two or three days, then. “How can you keep my weapon from me?”

“I can keep this from you,” The woman said, a coy smile on her face, “Because I can control Bahamut’s power. More effectively than you, it seems. But worry not, Bora Bora. I will not strike you down. You may rest here. You are in no danger.”

Bora Bora’s body quickly relaxed at her words. Then, angry with himself, he tensed up again, glaring suspiciously at the woman facing him. She could control Bahamut’s power? But that was impossible. Not that she could channel the dragon’s divine power, but that she could overpower his pull on his weapon. He was the mightiest of the platinum dragon’s followers, his Champion, and greatest warrior. She was powerful, sure, but he’d been told his entire life that he would be at the apex. She shouldn’t be capable of such power.

“You haven’t answered my first question,” he said after a few minutes of silence had passed between them. “You know my name, but I do not know yours.”

“True,” She said casually, and a wide smile broke across her face. Her teeth were unnaturally sharp for a human’s, he thought. They looked more like those of a dragon. All at once, he relaxed again. He’d just noticed how breathtakingly beautiful this woman was. Long black hair fell in waves to her mocha-colored shoulders, which were exposed by her simple but elegant white dress. A silk sash was draped over her shoulder, bearing a golden emblem he didn’t recognize. It was three jagged slashes, golden on a field of dark green. She was slim from head to toe, with surprisingly wide hips that were accentuated by the dress. Her feet were bare on the forest floor but smoother than the softest silk, and completely clean of dirt.

“Who are you?” He asked again.

“You may call me Khanmara,” she said, her sharp smile widening. Her eyes, deep golden color with flecks of crimson, were draconian in appearance, just like her teeth. “Surely you’ve heard of me.”

Bora Bora dropped to his knees. He’d heard of the woman, alright. Khamnara Lance. The most ancient and mighty of the mortal dragons, a powerful sorceress. She was the conqueror of so many towns and villages, her history of battle so bloody that it made Bora Bora pure and clean by comparison. She was the first Champion of Bahamut, the divine enforcer of her will. Along with her god, she’d won many great victories for her kind, single-handedly eliminating an entire race sworn to destroy her kin.

“That’s better,” Khanmara said, her smile fading to a slight pout. “It is proper form to kneel before your superior.”

He was regretting his hostile stance now. This woman before him had the power to eradicate him on the spot if she so chose. On a whim, she could tear him asunder, with his weapon, and he would have little to no chance of escape. She was the last to defeat Tiamat, forcing the Tyrant Queen into hiding to escape her death. He dropped into a deep bow at once, placing his head against the soft forest floor, abandoning any anger that was inside him.

“Please accept my deepest apologies,” he said, in a meek voice quite unlike his own. “I should not have tested you, great Khanmara.”

As he knelt, waiting for the blow that would destroy him, he heard an unexpected sound. Laughter. It started as a quiet little chuckle but quickly grew into a deep-throated cackle of mirth. Glancing up nervously, he saw her nearly doubled over with shouts of mirth, stomping on the ground in an informal fashion. He blinked in confusion, and as his confusion grew, his fear of death began to recede. Perhaps he would live to see another day.

“Oh, by the Platinum Conquerer,” she wheezed, barely able to stand with the force of her laughter. She was clutching the staff of his scythe for support. “You’re just as quick-witted as I’ve always seen. You’ve got a good head on your shoulders, little dragon-kin.”

Bora Bora rose until he was only kneeling, and stared incredulously at Khanmara. Now that he was properly aware of her true identity, he wondered how he hadn’t noticed the signs before. An overpowering amount of control over his weapon, a complete lack of awe or nerves in front of quite possibly one of the most dangerous assassins in the Kingdom, and an aura of such domineering power that he was instantly on his guard? She practically dripped with bloodlust and power now, though she’d seemed harmless at first.

“Relax,” she said, finally recovering from her laughing fit. At once, her bloodlust seemed to dissipate, leaving just the image of a beautiful woman with strange eyes and an amused grin on her face. “As I said, you’re in no danger here.”

And finally, he did allow himself to relax. He rose to his feet once more in a graceful movement and regarded her with something close to awe. He wasn’t exactly rude to everyone, but he did consider himself to be above many people in the world. There were some that he regarded as equals; the captain of Issho-Ni and the Champion of Arcana, for instance, but there were precious few who he regarded as above him. There had only been one, and that was Bahamut. But there was no mistaking the position this woman held. She was hopelessly out of his reach.

“You healed me?” He asked, sure of the answer before he even spoke. “How long have I been unconscious?”

“Yes, I am the one who healed you,” Khanmara replied. “I watched your fight by Mount Murgan and came to you when you were thrown from Tiamat’s back. You have been out for four days.”

“Four days?” Bora Bora spluttered, one hand rising to scrape nervously through his hair. “That’s too long. Do you know where Tiamat is?”

“I do not,” she replied, which surprised him. “But you cannot go rushing off just yet. Your bones have healed, but they are still very fragile. You will need one more night of rest before I allow you to leave here.”

Bora Bora opened his mouth to argue, seemed to think better of it, and closed it again. Khanmara raised an eyebrow at his visible struggle and smirked. Unable to think of anything to say just yet, he paced back and forth. Now that she mentioned it, he did feel a dull ache radiating through his entire body. He felt as if he’d been shattered beyond repair, but she’d managed to put him back together anyway. Such things were not only possible but easy for beings with her level of power. He stopped mid-stride as a question occurred to him.

“How do you know who I am?” He asked. “Did Bahamut tell you?”

“At first, yes. I was curious to see who had replaced me. But for the past few years, I’ve been watching you from afar. You interest me greatly, you know. I can see your great potential, and the future that you will have.”

Bora Bora tried not to look too pleased with her words. He could feel his cheeks flushing, the first time since he’d been a child that he was so embarrassed. “Why are you watching me so closely? And what have you seen of my potential?”

At this, her face darkened slightly. It wasn’t a dangerous look, yet it sent a shiver down his spine. “I watch you because of your great power. It has been a long while since I last saw one as young as you with such strength. And you cultivated it on your own, which is even rarer.”

“And what of my legacy?”

“I see a future filled with blood,” Khanmara said simply. “You stand atop your enemies, the greatest of them all.”

An eager grin spread across his face at that exciting prospect. The greatest of them all. He liked the sound of that. But then her next words wiped the expression from his face. “But it does not last long. You grow too powerful, and the ancient forces of the world combine to put you down.”

“Who?” He asked at once, thinking of striking first. “Who is it that kills me?”

“One who you cannot hope to defeat, no matter how fast you train,” she said, her voice firm. “He is known to the ancient ones as The Wanderer. You may know him as Grimr Lonfang, God of Nature.”

Bora Bora took a step back in shock. “You’ve seen him kill me? Why?”

“It is simple. The Wanderer is dedicated to keeping the balance. You grow too powerful, and your power corrupts you. In order to keep the balance, he must kill you, and does. You stand no chance, for he is stronger even than I was, in my prime.”

“Oh,” Bora Bora said, feeling suddenly weak. “Well, that’s unfortunate. Is there no way to avoid that?”

“There is,” she said, her smile coming back. “It is a path I think you will find quite agreeable. I have watched you long enough, and I know that you are worthy.”

“What must I do?”

“You must leave behind a legacy.”

“A legacy?” He blinked at her as if she’d taken leave of her senses. “As in father a child? No. That idea is disgusting in its own right.”

“You think many beneath you,” she said wisely, nodding her understanding. “You cannot conceive of a worthy mate to carry on your bloodline.”

“Of course,” he said tersely, resuming his pacing. “I am a chosen one, with power beyond the hopes and dreams of nearly all mortal beings. What creature in the world could match me?”

“Me.”

Bora Bora stopped again, so violently that he nearly fell over. He gaped at her with his mouth agape, quite certain he’d misheard her. “You want-”

“I want to create your legacy,” she said simply. “You will continue to attain the greatness you seek. But your power will be grounded in your legacy. You will never rise to the point that the Wanderer is forced to hunt you.”

“You want to bear a child for me?”

“Of course,” Khanmara said, with the calm certainty of someone reaching an unassailable conclusion. “I have lived many years now, and I need something besides my battles to be remembered by.”

“But why me?” Bora Bora asked, certain that he was testing his luck, but unable to keep the question to himself. “I’m sure there are other, more powerful options for you.”

Khanmara frowned at him. “Are you telling me that you’re not worthy after I have already said so? Are you telling me that I’m mistaken?”

The tiniest bit of her coy amused mask slipped, and he flinched at the anger that was boiling underneath. He put his hands up in a gesture of surrender. To tell the truth, if he had to pick, he’d choose to leave a legacy behind. He wasn’t so brazen as to think that he stood a chance against the God of Nature. “No, you are not mistaken. I am honored to accept.”

“Good,” she said calmly. “Now that I have your word, you may have this back. It is too weak a weapon for me in any event.”

She released the grip on his scythe, and it instantly flew back to him, almost as if it were glad to be free of her clutches. It vibrated warmly in his hand once again, and he felt a little more confident. He glanced around as if expecting some other development, but of course, he was faced with only one option. Suddenly, he had a flash of doubt. He’d never struggled to pursue his desires when it came to the brothel he owned in Milagre. What if, now, for the first time in his life, he was unable to properly act the part? But then he glanced back to Khanmara, who was lying on a conjured bed, gazing invitingly across from him. She was a dangerous beast, to be sure, but at that moment her pull was irresistible

He tossed in his sleep. Something was wrong, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. A general unease clouded his mind, filling him with an overwhelming surge of power. It was intoxicating, but he knew in his core that it was dangerous. He was surrounded by darkness on all sides. Not darkness, he corrected himself. It was a thick dust, through which he could sense other beings. Weaker beings. Then the dust parted, and the scene was revealed to him.

He saw himself as if through another’s eyes. He was rippling with power. It rolled off of him in waves, a palpable chill that filled him with dread. It had the same effect on those gathered around him as well. Hundreds were before him, and only a few were left standing. Behind him, what looked like the ruins of a great city were visible, countless columns of smoke rising from countless fires. It was clear that he’d just lain it to waste, along with the hundreds of corpses that scattered the battlefields around him.

One figure stood, facing him. It was that foreigner Tokugawa, he noticed. He was holding a long stout wooden spear, its tip glistening with fresh blood. But the man holding it was weak, his body host to many grievous wounds. It was just as clear that Bora Bora himself had inflicted those wounds. Tokugawa was the last challenger before him, and as he watched, his legs gave out, and he fell to the ground without another sound. His dream self lifted his head to the heavens and let out a fierce roar of victory. The greatest of them all.

Then, he came. He arrived with no sound or light, appearing virtually out of thin air, a mere three feet away. The roar was cut off suddenly, and he glanced down. The Wanderer gazed up at him with something akin to pity, no sign of malice or hostility in his stature. He looked ridiculously small by comparison, but, knowing what he did, Bora Bora finally understood what it was he saw.

“You have grown quite powerful, former Champion of Bahamut,” The Wanderer said, his voice deep and gravelly. He could have been there to pay tribute if it weren’t for the obvious weapon clutched in his hand. He lifted the dagger and pointed it at Bora Bora. “But for the sake of the balance, and to pay for your crimes, I must take your life.”

“You think you can kill me?” His dream self said. He was shocked to hear the voice. It was high and clear, with no sign of the usual sibilance. “I am the mightiest! I have killed far greater foes than you, Ancient! I am the killer of the Platinum Dragon!”

A wave of shock, so powerful that it could have stumbled him, ripped through Bora Bora’s mind. This was the future that Khanmara had foreseen? A future in which he kills Bahamut? That would explain the waves of power, he thought. If he were to kill his god, he would, as Champion, inherit his divine powers. This was known. But he’d achieved it the wrong way, he now realized. This was why the Wanderer had to kill him.

And so he did. The Wanderer wasted no words and moved in a blur. Before he could blink, either in physical or dream form, the small Ancient had closed the distance and struck with his knife, plunging it deep into his chest. It sank to the hilt, drawing no blood, but emitting something. Bright green light coursed out of it, enveloping Bora Bora’s body in an instant. Then he was no more.

He expected to jolt upright when he woke, but his dream faded away like smooth silk through his fingers, leaving nothing but darkness in its wake. It was crushing upon him, exerting so much pressure that he was certain death was near. Then, just when it became too much, his eyes opened once more, revealing the forest clearing around him. His breathing was even and his pulse was quite calm. Glancing over, he saw Khanmara regarding him with her calm, golden eyes. Everything seemed sharper now as if he’d previously worn a blurred mask that had limited his vision.

“What has happened to me?” He asked. He knew that something was different. “Am I still me?”

“Your nature is a tiny bit different now,” she said gently. “It was unavoidable in our joining. But I imagine you will not be disappointed with the effects.”