"Terendelev is... the dragon of Kenabres, right? Or was - I'm sorry for your loss."

Wenduag is more concerned with practicalities. "You really had a dragon mother? I don't have a spider mother. Does that mean your siblings all look the same?" And does it mean Lucette will live and grow stronger forever, like dragons in the stories?

"I don't have any siblings but if I did they would look like me. Technically you could say she was my father--both of my parents are women, but it was my human mother who carried me, dragons being able to take on any shape they want." 

"Dragons must be very strong, if they can choose any shape and what they choose to be is dragons." She is approving, and respectful.

"Sorry to interrupt, but we're actually in a hurry here! Some stupid kids went into the Shield Maze, because they thought the earthquake is some kind of sign for them to go crusade up on the surface. The Maze is - supposed to lead to the city, but it's very dangerous and no-one has actually made it through in living memory; there are other ways up but they take days of walking, both ways. Wenduag and I are the two best hunters in the tribe but Chief Sull forbade us from going after them, because it's too risky."

"But we could make it if everyone went. So I want to rally the whole tribe, all the tribes, to finally return to the surface. If the demons are attacking Kenabres, that's even more important! The Chief says we're 'underground crusaders', but he also says the time isn't right and we should wait and wait forever until there's a sign. Deskari attacking Kenabres has to be that sign; if we're not going to help now, then what are we waiting for?"

"What Lann isn't telling you is that he was raised on the surface as a child. He always wanted to go back and he's looking for a way to convince the rest of us to abandon everything we know."

"Most people in the tribe are fishers, craftsmen, the young and the old who can't even defend themselves in the tunnels. The weak and deformed, because being born with these bodies makes us strong hunters by comparison with the rest. They'd be massacred in the Maze. And for what? The people of Kenabres drove our ancestors underground. They drove Lann and his father back underground -"

"They did not! My father chose to go back!"

"Because there was no future for you among humans!"

"And that's why the whole tribe needs to go up this time!" Lann looks deeply frustrated.

"...I feel like where you guys live is sort of up to you but rescuing children is good?"

"When I was young and foolish, I went into the Maze with my friends. I'm the only one who made it back out alive. There were traps and monsters, and we thought we could handle those, but then there was - a darkness. Something took us, one by one in the darkness and the silence, and left only screams and blood. We couldn't fight it and we couldn't flee and -" She looks away.

"I went back a few times since. Trying to explore, to map it. It changes over time. Once or twice I saw humans, so it must lead to the surface... but I never made it that far."

"I can sneak when I'm alone." She flexes her spider-legs in demonstration. "A large group would have to fight, and the noise would attract more enemies. I'd lead a fighting party to find the kids, but Chief Sull forbade it. But I will not be part of Lann's mad idea to bring the whole tribe."

"You will if the Chief agrees to do it."

"This hall is where we keep the remaining relics of our ancestors, the first crusaders. The earthquake broke all the plinths and plaques... it's normally very well organized." Why is he apologising to the surfacers about the state of his culture's heirlooms. "One of them is an angel's sword, and - if I could find it and bring it back, it would be a symbol to rally around. And a sign, because no mongrel can grasp it. It burns us." Realistically, if it didn't, it'd be killing lizards somewhere in the tunnels, not sitting unused on display. "But I want to try - I have to try, because if I, if one of us can grasp it now, that would be an obvious sign from Heaven."

"But I can't find it, in all the rubble." He is so deeply frustrated about this.

"Uh, not that I don't think angel swords sound cool, but whether Wenduag will do the thing seems kind of secondary to whether it's a good idea?"

"If the Maze leads to the city then we need to go through it, we can't afford days of going around. Unless we don't expect to make it. And then we can rescue your kids on the way. An angel sword sounds incredible, maybe you can - loan it to one of us while we're rescuing the kids?" They're both armed with bows, while Seelah's party has at least two proficient sword-users.

"Maybe Chief Sull will let us go after the kids if we're with you. But bringing the sword would still help convince him."

"That makes sense."

It would be really neat if she had Detect Magic but oh well. She can move rubble around, that's still helpful. 

That's pretty much what he's been doing! But many hands make light work, and they can cover the whole room fairly quickly.

It is in fact Lucette who stumbles on it first: a swordhilt sticking out from under a rock, and when she moves it out of the way she will see the blade itself is embedded inside another stone.

Now that she has seen it, even if she turns around or closes her eyes she'll feel it faintly, like a presence hovering just behind her shoulder. Not saying or asking for anything, only making itself known, and impossible to mistake for an ordinary sword.

She more-or-less automatically grabs the hilt. 

As soon as she touches the hilt, she is pulled into a vision. She could resist and it will not be forced on her against her will, but the vision pulses with desperation and a yearning, a plea to be heard, to have its existence acknowledged.

There was an angel once, called Lariel, who stood in this cave or another like it and held this sword. Except it's not really a sword, it's a part of him, the Light of Heaven an essential piece of the being and meaning that is 'angel' and 'Lariel' and 'of Heaven', all intertwined and impossible to separate without leaving parts whose sum is much lesser than the whole.

He is wounded, in the vision, and tired, and more than that he is hurting, because he was betrayed. Betrayed and left to die, by some of the allies for whose sake he left Heaven. And now the last of them to remain loyal lies wounded at his feet, perhaps dying, while the others lurk in the shadows beyond his sight.

A shadow moves forward out of the darkness and resolves into swarms of locusts that outline a shape. Deskari, but not; not quite the same as she saw this morning, not as big or as menacing. Not a full demon lord, to the angel's apprehension, but more than enough to kill him.

He cannot flee. He can spend his last strength attacking, and it will hold no meaning; or spend it healing his last and faithful ally, and have the demon kill her again.

What should he do? What can he do? The vision demands an asnwer. The angel seems to suffer from the pain of indecision as much as from his wounds. 

There is no indecision in Lucette's heart. Healherhealherhealher

Run, the angel pleads as he heals her. Live, as he stands between her and the approaching monster, but he knows he cannot stop it from killing her as well.

The monster speaks, mocking and threatening. Lariel hears its words, and forgets them. It is ugly, and Evil, and nothing it says is decision-relevant; and he does not wish to remember these details of his final moments or to prolong them.

He strikes at the monster and his sword flares for a moment; but there is no strength left in him, and the demon grasps him by the throat and lifts him bodily off the ground.

You will kill me, Lariel says / thinks / remembers. This I know. But another will come. They will come and lift up my sword. And he plunges the sword into the stone below him, shapes his own dying essence into a tiny fragment of miracle, a sword (a light, a spell, a spirit) that only the worthy can pick up, and he gives it all that he can of the remainder of his power but he cannot give it his self or his purpose, for those must die with him -

Take me, the sword pleads with her. Use me, shape me, become me.

What will you do? Some angels work to prevent suffering while others heal it; some do battle while others nurture or teach; there are as many ways to be an angel as there are souls in Heaven, and all are valid and necessary and Good. But the sword-shaped torn essence of an angel is too small and has been alone for too long, and so above all it wants a clear purpose, and to be used again.

What will you do?

Tears stream down Lucette's face. 

Heal heal heal heal--there are so many dead--she wants to fix it all--

You will heal, the Light of Heaven promises her. We will heal them together. Everyone we reach, everyone we can. 

It does not say, thank you. It simply gives of itself, gives itself, in thanks for being there and wielding the Light and for being and wanting and planning what she is.

And for a moment it shines brightly outside her own mind, for everyone in the room to see. It touches their eyes and their hearts - lightly, not in a vision, not in words, just enough to help dispel doubts and fears. Just enough to let them know they are seen and they are loved and they will be healed if they need it, they will be healed and helped and loved until all strength fails.

Shiiiine.

Yeah she hasn't stopped crying, at this point. 

"Lariel..." she whispers.