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By Root 452 0

dream serpents, and creatures who walked like men but fought as insects. And she’d hunted outlanders who sought to plunder the ancient ruins. Sometimes her tribe fought these foreigners, as they had battled this Daine when he had first appeared. Other times, they simply followed the strangers, shadowing them and striking only if the spirits demanded it. Though the humans were rarely worthy prey, Xu’sasar enjoyed these long hunts, and over many cycles she had even come to understand their common tongue, though she found it painfully slow and clumsy.

Xu’sasar did not know what she would find under this moon. Nonetheless … this was the hunting ground, first of the final lands. Here she would prove herself. Here she would earn her passage to the next realm, and the next, until she joined her kin on the fields of endless struggle. She was the last of her tribe, and with her death the Jalaq Qaltiar left Eberron behind. Now it was her duty to honor her tribe in death and make her way to the last battle. As she moved through the night, she studied the stone faces buried in the earth, and she took pride in the fact that none were Qaltiar.

The wind whispered again, and Xu’sasar saw motion in the sky. A trio of glittering sparks had come loose from the firmament and were streaking toward the ground.

Wandering wisps. Even as she took cover against the stone face of the closest tor, she recalled the words of the Teller of Tales as he spoke of the many dangers of the final lands. Remnants of the fallen, bound in the sky as others are buried in earth. They are deceivers who will lead you into bog or battle. Do not underestimate them; they burn with jealousy, and this fire is as deadly as any blade.

These wisps had no interest in deception. They overshot Daine and Lei, then shifted trajectory, darting back toward the humans.

Xu’sasar never thought of leaving the outlanders to their fate. Whatever she thought of their graceless motions and foolish ideas, these were her companions on her final hunt. A hunter who leaves her comrades to die is no worthy warrior.

From that moment forward, all of her thoughts were focused on her prey. Distance was irrelevant. Xu’sasar was one with the wind, and she leaped into the air with no concern for height; her passion for her prey pulled her forward. Reaching within, Xu’sasar summoned the darkness that was the birthright of the drow, the cold night that consumed light and life. Shadows wreathed her fist, and she struck at the heart of the glowing sphere.

This was no creature of flesh and blood. Xu’sasar felt the barest resistance as her hand passed through her prey, as if she had struck a ball of water. Flesh or not, she could feel a pulse of agony radiate from the spirit as the darkness passed through the light. Xu’sasar twisted in the air and fell, spinning to face the wisps as she braced for her landing.

Three arrows sang through the air, reducing the weakened wisp to a shower of burning dust. Surely this archer thought he was doing her a favor, but Xu’sasar was not expecting the blow. She had yet to learn the tactics used by these three, and one of her own kin would not have stolen Xu’sasar’s prey in this way. For an instant she lost her focus, and that was all the wisps needed. There was a flash of light, swift as the lightning itself, and a wisp crashed into Xu’sasar, passing through her chest.

Agony lashed through every muscle. The pain redoubled as the second wisp passed through her. She could feel the raw fury of the spirit, and this anger seared her thoughts even as its blazing light scorched her flesh. The torture might have forced a scream from the throat of a soft outlander, but Xu’sasar was a war-wraith of the Qaltiar, a hunter hardened by ritual. She had undergone countless trials, and the elders had burned the spirit-wards into her skin with the sacred venom of Vulkoor himself. Xu’sasar called on the memories embedded in these pale tattoos, and the strength of her triumphs dulled the pain of her current wounds. Her vision cleared, and she turned to face her foes.

The spirits split,