Why the archons hunting me would want to go to Frostwind Dale was easy enough to understand. Zadkiel knew that was the land I hailed from, so his wives would know that, too. At the time I fought Zadkiel, I was still Eriksdaughter, not Rimedancer. Between that, and the protections against divination I had, it could look to many as though I was hiding, if they searched for me by that name. And people in hiding often went back to areas that were familiar to them.

Honestly, the only questionable thing about the whole affair was why they were only now meeting with Lord Emberlash. However, that could also be explained fairly easily. These were hound archons, after all, and hound archons were hunters.

These hunters were looking for prey, but they did not want to frighten the prey and have it run off. Doubtless they spent much of the last two years traveling, and trying to gather information about me. A task made more difficult due to the fact that Torm was not the most widely-beloved deity in the northlands, even before Tormfall. That would force them to be careful who they trusted, and who they spoke to. Even if they were not aligned with me, or Auril’s faith, there were plenty of forces in the northlands that would not take kindly to archons meddling in their territory, and may seek to hinder their efforts.

That much was easy to guess, just from a moment’s look at the mirror. But scrying allowed for more than just a visual. It allowed one to hear what was going on, as well. This was a good chance to get information that would allow us to more easily defeat them.

Lord Emberlash looked at the three archons with a frown. “And what brings three beings of the higher planes to Frostwind Dale? Especially ones bearing the symbol of Torm? The Loyal Fury is not widely celebrated in these lands. Tempus, Lord of Battles, is the chief god worshipped by the barbarians of the tundra. Here in the Nine Towns, Lathander and Shaundakul are most widely venerated, though none save those who have oaths preventing it pass by the shrine of Auril without offering a fearful prayer to ward off the Frostmaiden’s wrath.”

The hound archon in the middle of the group of three nodded once. “Greetings, Lord Emberlash. I am Zophiel the Seeker. With me are my daughter, Mumiel the Sage, and my son, Zarall the Singer. We have been given the task of tracking down an enemy of Torm who has shielded herself from divination magic.”

“Yes,” Emberlash replied, “but that does not tell me why you came to the Dale. Do you have some reason to believe that this enemy has come here? The Morninglord has not given me any sign that any threat grave enough to require a trio of archons has come near those under my protection.”

Mumiel stepped forward. “In truth, our quarry has gone to ground. With divinations not being able to track her, and the chance that she has taken on a new name and likeness, we decided to turn our attention to our quarry’s past haunts, in hopes that she has either returned to familiar ground, or that we can pick up a fresh trail. Other groups are using other means to try and draw out our foe, but we are hunting them the old way.”

“I see. And you have some reason to believe that this quarry you seek is in the Dale, or came from here? Who is it that you seek?”

Zophiel nodded. “We know that the one we seek came from here. She was open about her origins when speaking with those she met in the northlands, and so the information we have on her early life is mostly confirmed. We seek a Twice-Born by the name of Melinda Eriksdaughter.”

That caused the old paladin to start. “Well, there is a name that I have not heard in many a year. Yes, young Eriksdaughter did live in Frostwind Dale, but she spent only a single winter within the walls of Sleetmouth. She left to the South, and has not returned since then.”

“You are sure of this?”

The paladin nodded. “Yes, I have no reason to lie. Though I could already see that the girl was set on the path of wickedness, none could doubt the power that she had, even at such a young age. I knew that, should she return, she would be a potential threat to those under my protection, so I had special ward-stones placed, to alert me should a Twice-Born come within a day’s ride of any of the Nine Towns.”

“Just the Nine Towns? Why not cover the entire Dale?”

“Hah!” Lord Emberlash laughed, bitterly, shaking his head. “As if I could control all the Dale? No, my power, and authority, does not stretch past a day’s ride from any of the towns. Within that sphere, I am a respected authority, but each town has their own leaders. But I have no control over the rest of the Dale.”

The archons frowned at that, and looked at each other. Finally, Zarall, who was introduced as a son, despite being dressed as a woman, said, “Perhaps, then, the Loyal Fury could help push those boundaries further? With the right aid, you could take the entire Dale under your banner, and ensure the safety of all who dwell here.”

Emberlash shook his head, resolutely. “No. That path leads only to war, and the Dale does not have enough soldiers to enforce that kind of plan. All it would do is unite the barbarians and the goblin tribes against us, or put the Dale under the sway of whatever outside force provided that ‘aid’, making them little better than conquerors. We value our independence too much to allow that to happen.”

“So, you allow evil to persist, because you do not have the strength to fight it?”

The paladin’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Zarall. “That kind of short-sighted thinking is no doubt why Tormfall happened, don’t you think? The way I’ve heard it explained, Torm was attempting to conquer a portion of the material plane without drawing the wrath of the other gods, and it ended up exploding in his divine face.”

Now, it was the archons’ turn to narrow their eyes, as they clearly took offense to the way Emberlash phrased that. Zophiel snarled, “You would be wise to choose your words more carefully, Paladin. We respect your virtue, but we will not tolerate disrespect of our Lord.”

“Since when has stating facts been seen as disrespect? Or is what I said untrue in some way, or that the Morninglord was untruthful when his priest communed with him? Did the forces of Izrail not try and conquer the mage-kings of Thedra, holding open a portal from within Izrail itself to the material plane? Was not Tormfall related to the closing of that portal?”

As the archons and paladin postured, I looked to my fallen archon servant. “Sanvi, you have the ability to use the Message spell as an innate ability, do you not?”

She chuckled. “Yes, my Queen. And I could easily connect all of us to all of them. Once I pass the first whispered message, you can ‘reply’, and they’ll all hear your words.”

“Perfect. It is time that we stir this pot somewhat. I know the perfect spot to force a final confrontation with these three. We just have to bait them into position.”

Sanvi nodded, and took a moment to cast the spell, pointing at each of us in turn, as well as each of the individuals shown in the mirror. When she whispered, her voice was audible, as though it were whispered directly in my ear, even though she was looking at the mirror to do so. “Harken now to these words, for I convey a message from one who wishes to speak.”

That caused everyone in the mirror to stop their arguing, shocked. Time for me to do my part. I whispered, trusting the magic to convey my words.

“Well, well, well. A pack of rabid dogs has gotten loose from their Master’s side. Listen well, little dogs. I am the one once known as Melinda Eriksdaughter. That is the name I held when I killed your Master’s mortal form, and sent him back to the higher planes in disgrace. I believe he still has the scars from that fight, does he not?”

Zophiel snarled, as she looked around the room. “I’ll show you ‘dog’, bitch! Where are you? Come out and face us, so that we can properly drag you before the Master and Lord Torm. They wish to see to your punishment personally!”

“Oh, dear. You really are the dumb one of the group. But, I shouldn’t be surprised, since you did get in a relationship with that pompous fool, and share him with your sister-wives, and your own children. By the way, Zarall, how does it feel to be away from your Master, and not being forced to serve as his bitch-boy cocksheath? It must be a welcome relief for your backside, no?”

Zarall squinted, and looked around. “This is wrong. She knows too much about us, even though we haven’t met before. She shouldn’t know our names to find out about our relationship, even if she knew she was being hunted.”

Mumiel also looked around, until her eye focused upon the sensor, looking directly at it. “A scrying sensor. We are being watched.”

“Yes, very good, Mumiel. You’ve been under observation for a while, but I waited until you were with an old acquaintance of mine to make contact. Lord Emberlash, I remember well our last meeting. You strove to uphold your oaths, even though they could have come into conflict, and walked the line between them. Because of that, I have stayed away from the Dale, to not draw undue attention to my homeland, and put you in a position where you might be forced to make that choice again.

“However, since the events of Tormfall were being discussed, I think it best to make the truth plain. Torm allowed the portal from Magika to Izrail to form, and held it open in part with an altar blessed by his own hand. However, an invasion of the higher planes into the Material threatened to spread into a wider war, as eventually someone would think to open portals to the lower planes, or the elemental planes, to combat that threat. The best way to reduce those casualties was to close the portal.

“Unfortunately for Torm, the energies of the portal’s sudden closure struck the altar like a bomb. Because that altar was blessed by Torm himself, the blast echoed through every temple, shrine, and altar to Torm throughout the material plane, just as you saw on Tormfall. Oh, and it was all made possible due to a traitor in the ranks, part of Torm’s own Inquisition, who aided us in disabling the protections that kept the portal from being destroyed. That traitor is also the reason that Magika now resides in the Abyss.”

The paladin nodded slowly. “Either you have gotten vastly better at deception since last we met, or your words ring true, young Eriksdaughter. Perhaps both. And yet, the look upon these archons’ faces tell me that there is a great deal of truth in your words. So, what is it you want?”

“First, it is no longer Eriksdaughter. I am Melinda Rimedancer, now, and I am taking time away from the land I rule as Queen to deal with threats to Myself, and the Realm. Threats like the archons, there. Already, three trumpets loyal to their Master have fallen silent. Three dogs will soon be whipped, and then three suns shall fall into shadow. Then, the blade shall be broken.”

“Impossible!” Zophiel snarled. “The trumpet archons are more than strong enough to handle some mere mortal! There’s no way they have fallen!”

“Oh, really? Then you have nothing to fear from this mere mortal when I come to deal with you, right? But, out of consideration for Lord Emberlash, and the people of Sleetmouth, I won’t come for you in the Nine Towns. Instead, you can meet me at Indsamling. There, in that place of power long venerated by the tribes, you may test whether this mere mortal has what it takes to bring you curs to heel and break you.”

And, with that, I signaled Sanvi to cut both connections, severing the spell before the archons could respond. I looked at my companions, and returned their smiles. “It seems we have a target, my friends. Time for me to introduce you to the lands of my birth.”