The first time I opened my eyes after my savage landing, I thought I was in heaven. The sky looked so blue as I looked at it with the one eye that wasn’t totally swollen over. It smelled of pine and frost, much like the valley that would become my tomb. I slipped back into darkness, wondering why it didn’t hurt anymore.

It could have been hours, or maybe even days before I opened my eyes again. That strange period of timelessness was punctuated by flashes of men made of trees, bones and antlers. They seemed to be carrying me gently, almost like a baby. A glance to the side showed another antlered bone tree man walking beside us.

An inner light seemed to burn from within the creature, almost like the red glowing patches on the nemorti’s skin.

Except for one distinctive different. This light was green.

The luminescence that burned from the skin of the nemorti and other creatures we’d encountered so far seemed to burn with anger, with hatred, with a primal animalistic fury.

The light that glowed from within these creatures felt like the polar opposite. It was a nurturing, healing embrace, and I got the distinct impression that the only reason I was still alive was because of the things that carried us.

These creatures – if they could be called that. I saw no sign of muscle or skin, just ropey vines and moss that served the same function. The only animal parts I saw were the antlers, and the bare skulls that those antlers were attached to.

Then blackness took me again. Minutes or hours later my eyes fluttered open again.

“No, now is not the time for you to be awake,” a familiar voice said.

I swung my head to the side to see the crazy man covered in furs that we’d encountered before we reached Incolti.

“I can’t remember your name,” I said. “I think I might have bumped my head.”

He laughed a deep, genuine laugh. The things carrying us seemed to creak with amusement too, or maybe I was just going crazy.

“My name is Mosul, and I knew I was right about you. The great dragon Balaur is asleep, and I am his – ahh, what do you call them? The things that rouse you humans from your tiny deaths?”

Tiny deaths?

“Do you mean sleep?” I asked.

“Yes! That is the word. My apologies, it is not a concept I am familiar with. My father can sleep, but alas I cannot until he wakes. But when I sleep it is more like a true death, and the end of Mosul Zmeiovich, I fear.”

“Alarm clock. That’s the word you’re looking for. You’re going to wake your father – the dragon Balaur – from sleep?”

“From a tiny death, yes.”

“When you say a tiny death, I’m getting the feeling that scale is a completely different thing for Balaur than it is for us humans.”

“A millennia is a blink of an eye for my father.”

“Mm, I thought as much.”

Altrighus, the reality adjacent entity that I’d encountered on Mori Island – was the same. Time didn’t work the same in her aspect of reality. Weeks and months could pass in our world, and it would be seconds or minutes to Altrighus.

Was Balaur the same? Some other entity from some other aspect of existence, somehow thrust through a tear in reality into our world?

“Now is the time for your brief death, to stave off your eternal spark being extinguished forever.”

Mosul waved a hand across my face and the thing carrying me pulsed a deep, comforting green. The light felt like a warm cup of tea on a cold winter’s night, like a dram of Lagavulin whiskey after a hard day’s writing, and a hug from my late grandmother all rolled into one.

Then the blackness took me again.

Flashes of white snow, evergreen trees, moving antlered tree men and blue skies all passed by in a cascade of moments happening simultaneously and in slow motion.

My joints ached when I finally woke, but the feeling of shards of ribs threatening to tear into my lungs every time I breathed was gone. I could see out of both eyes now too.

The blue sky was gone, replaced with the low ceiling of a cavern the glowed green. The source of the light became clear as I lifted myself into a seated position. Two enormous antlered creatures sat opposite me.

I hoped that Kaiser and the others were okay.

“You’re alive,” Mosul said. It was more a matter-of-fact observation than anything else.

“What are those things?” I asked, motioning to the two glowing constructs.

I looked at both in turn and noticed some differences between the two. One of them had an elk’s skull with accompanying antlers. The other had a bear’s skull for a face and antlers made of jagged brambles. Bearskull was a lot stockier than Elkskull. Their eyes burned green. Moss and small flowers grew from where their feet met the earthy floor of the cavern.

“They are leshies,” Mosul said. “Servants of my father, guardians of the forest. They watch over when we cannot. They ensure that the power of my father’s blood remains dormant while he sleeps. Even eternal dragons have nightmares.” Mosul took a breath and his normally aloof countenance shifted. “That’s why you are here, why you were saved. Roughly one month ago a nightmare rose from my father’s dream. A nightmare in the shape of a man. I believe you met him in the resort above.”

I nodded. “Yeah, and I killed him.”

Mosul laughed. “No, you killed a shadow. The so-called dragonslayer still lives. He burns with the stolen blood of my father, but there is something else. Something I do not understand.”

“Do you have word of my team? Did they survive the fall?”

Mosul nodded as he pulled a leather canteen from inside his furs. “Here, drink this. The light of life can fix your body, but you still must drink. This is dew from Balaur’s purest spring.”

I took the canteen and lifted it to my lips. If this guy wanted to kill me, he’d have done it already. He wouldn’t have brought me back just to poison me now.

I’d come to terms with the fact that I’d survived, and I owed it all to Mosul. Now that I was alive, my mission still stood, and Kaiser was out there somewhere without me.

“My team-” I began, but we were more than that by now, weren’t we? “My friends. They survived?”

“Yes, yes. Very much alive, but none are as important as you.”

I scoffed. “Seriously?”

“You doubt? You still carry the blessing of another like Balaur. Your spark burns much brighter than the others, and your system is the only one strong enough to withstand my father’s blessing.”

I raised a hand to my chest. The anima battery supercharge Miranda had given me back on Mori Island. Was that why I’d been able to accrue so much experience – so much anima – and not experience those negative side effects Miranda mentioned during system induction?

“What system are you talking about? My anima system?” I asked. I needed to understand.

Mosul scrunched up his face quizzically. “That is a strange name for it. We call it esenta.”

“Okay, this esenta, does too much of it kill someone normally?”

“Yes. All creatures have a certain amount of innate esenta, and my father can bestow a boon of more on those he deems worthy of his blessing. This dragonslayer has stolen this ability too, making a crude imitation, a mockery of the power of my father. He gives esenta to those who cannot handle it, and they become monstru. Monsters, in your tongue.”

“Because their anima systems can’t take it,” I said, finally understanding a little. “He injects them with anima – this esenta you’re talking about – and that anima changes them into nemorti, prykolics, capcauns, and all those other monsters, right?”

Mosul nodded excitedly. “You know much for a stranger.”

“Maybe this isn’t so different after all. So you can see my anima system? You’re saying that it’s stronger somehow?”

“Seeing would not be the right word. I can sense it, and like an ancient tree with roots that run deep and strong, you can handle a much greater esenta load than any other human I have ever encountered. Greater than anyone except for the dragonslayer. Although I do not think he is human. He might have been once, but is no longer. What they did to him in the mountains I do not know, but none of Balaur’s creations may enter the dragonslayer’s keep.”

“He’s got a castle somewhere?”

Mosul nodded. “This is where you must go if you wish this to end. Until then, the dragonslayer will continue to send his shadows after you.”

“So how do we fix this? How do we kill this dragonslayer for good?”

“You must destroy his heart, which is under guard in his castle. You cannot do this without Balaur’s help. He is still sleeping, but he stirs. He has recognised in you someone who may be able to live through his blessing.”

I swallowed nervously. “Because of my strengthened esenta/anima system?”

“Exactly.”

“How do we do this?”

“You know much about Balaur already, and you know that he has seven heads, yes?”

I nodded.

“The legends call them heads, but they take the form of obelisks. They are the focal points of his great power in this world, where his influence can cross over into this realm of existence and watch things through the eyes of his creations. These obelisks are hidden in deep and secret places, but the dragonslayer has found one. He has infected it with his own corruption, and if it is not purged, then he will soon know the locations of all seven.”

“If that happens, I’m guessing that it’s going to bad news for this area and the rest of planet Earth, right?”

“You would have noticed that the esenta in the dragonslayer’s creations is illuminated with a different wavelength of light in those purely of Balaur’s power. Green and red. One to heal, and one to destroy.”

I shifted uncomfortably. “Yes.”

“This power to dominate the power and will of one who only wants to heal the world will eventually corrupt everything. It is a voracious appetite which will never be sated. If you are hungry and you eat, your cravings are satisfied. The dragonslayer’s hunger only grows with every new soul he touches.”

“Eventually, that’s going to be everyone in the world.”

“And still he will not be satisfied.”

“Looks like I’ll need your father’s blessing if we’re going to stop this.”

Mosul stood and beckoned for me to follow him deeper into the cave. “Come.”

I followed him through twisting, turning cave passages. Vein-like vines that glowed green with Balaur’s anima guided us until we came to a grand chamber. The obelisk in the centre was a living thing, incorporating stone, vines, moss and bone into its form. It was pentagonal, and there was a large glowing eye on each of the five sides. Each eye swung towards my location as I entered the chamber and followed me as Mosul guided me in a circular pattern around the obelisk.

Green light pulsed up the obelisk in a rhythmic pattern, almost like this energy travelled through it like blood travelling through veins and arteries. The anima the cult mined from Altrighus on Mori Island was from her crystalised blood, so it made sense that Balaur’s anima would take a similar form.

Six months ago, before I’d ever heard of EDGE Force, I was mostly happy in my ignorance. Now I’d passed beyond the veil and couldn’t go back. Our entire universe was a simulation, and there were powerful beings that for whatever reason wanted to cross over into our world.

Altrighus did it because she couldn’t imagine or create anything for herself, but through humanity she finally could.

What did Balaur have to gain from this?

“Why did your father come here?” I asked Mosul as we crossed into the centre of the cavern.

“He is a healer and cannot help himself. He saw a world torn apart by war and bloodshed, one ruled by superstition and fear, and chose this as a place that needed his touch. The beauty of this natural world is bolstered by Balaur’s grace.”

“But why here? If there’s one thing that humans are good at, it’s finding excuses to kill each other. What made this place different from every other land stained with the blood of men and women?”

Mosul shrugged. “I cannot know why, only that my father acted as he did, and now it is up to you to stop his power from falling into the wrong hands.”

I laughed. “What makes you think my hands are any better?”

“Balaur will judge you before you are bestowed with his gift.”

I cocked an eyebrow. “What happens if we finds me wanting?”

Mosul shrugged. “That is for him to decide.”

I sighed. So that’s how it was going to be, huh? An ancient interdimensional dragon was going to judge me, and might end up killing me if he didn’t like what he saw?

Closing my eyes, I shook my head. Could I really risk my life on a gamble like this? If I touched that obelisk and opened myself up to judgement or corruption or blessing or whatever-the-fuck Mosul wanted to call it, there would be no coming back from it.

Miranda had fundamentally changed me on Mori Island, and it was only because of that action that I could ever survive what Balaur wanted to do to me.

Was I destined to be the plaything of Gods beyond my comprehension?

Was what Altrighus did to me even that bad? The last six months had been up there with the favourite times of my life, and it was all thanks to that otherworldly power.

What if I actually had a chance to make the world a better place? To save it for my kids, and my grandkids that I hoped I could spoil rotten one day?

I’d put so many of my own characters into situations just like this in my books and screenplays. It’s called the crossing the threshold, which is the moment the hero of the story commits to the task, enters a world beyond their original imaginings. A point at which, when crossed, there is no coming back.

I raised my hand and walked towards the obelisk. Three of the glowing green eyes towards the top of the pillar were focused on me as the distance between us disappeared.

The air thrummed with power, like there was some unseen seal around the obelisk. I pushed my hand through this resistance and placed it on the warm stone beneath.

Light bloomed in front of my eyes as I was taking to another place and another time.