Drago Alters his Plans on the Fly

The Silvergrey Sea

Part Four: Elementals and Dragons

Drago Alters his Plans on the Fly

* * *

When he’d incarnated three centuries ago, Drago had successfully stopped the process that would have made him a slave to Poseidon’s plan to recreate the Templars. Though he had anticipated it, this unfortunate meeting with another Element, the Erthe Woman, threatened his scheme to undermine the Sea God’s intent.

Becoming a prisoner of the Hermetists, the very people whose help he’d sought to enlist, looked to be a blessing in disguise. Fate had provided another opportunity to further his goal, if only he could grasp it. The Hermetist Abram knew him and might be sympathetic. The other two, Elects of the Order, were the ones he really needed, and Abram could help argue his case.

It would be tricky, for the Great Soul would also need to get the Erthe Woman to help him, while preventing her from knowing what he was about. That goal already seemed beyond reach, for the change Drago had made to hide himself from the Hermetists only served to expose him to his fellow Element. She knew something was off about him.

She had been a Hermetist named Rayne. Now, she was the victim of the same binding that had almost happened to him three centuries previous. Drago had had the advantage of jumping the gun, coming to the surface well before he was supposed to. Surprise, more than any of his efforts, had prevented him from being bound to the Sea God’s purpose.

The Great Soul that had taken Rayne must have been sympathetic to Poseidon’s wishes, for she acted the perfect devoted acolyte. Drago wondered which Great Soul she had been.

Currently, the Erthe Woman was kneeling, hands on thighs, head down, staring at a spot a few feet in front of her. He needed to behave in a friendly way toward her for his subterfuge to work. Professing ignorance seemed the best way.

“Rayne.” No response. “Help me, Rayne Hermit. Help me understand what’s happened to me.”

Slowly, she raised her head. She didn’t turn to look at him. “Rayne Hermit is dead.”

“Who are you?”

Now she looked at Drago. He recognized the light in her eyes. He had occasionally seen it in the mirror on Noir before merging with the Hyborean Drago. He had needed to seek the help of the elf, Dævara, to merge the two minds in him to keep one from re-emerging and fighting him for control. The Element before Drago obviously hadn’t needed so drastic a measure. The feral glint of an Element in the eye of the former Rayne Hermit was steady, unwavering. The woman Rayne was one with the cause now. “You know.”

No harm in admitting it. “Was Rayne part of the Meraculus Mercurius?”

A chilling smile. “Yes.”

“You were unexpected.”

“As were you.”

“Why are we here? If it was not the M. M., at whose behest?”

“Do you really not know?” Did she doubt him? Was she merely testing? Drago had to continue his role as ignorant rube and hope to bluff her.

“I have no memory of my exit from the Sea.” True enough, but misleading.

“They must have realized their mistake and tried to return you. You would have been like me before that attempt.”

“I would have known?”

A nod.

“I want to know. Tell me, please.”

“We were sent by Poseidon.”

Drago feigned shock and fear. “Who is it, this Poseidon?”

“The father of the Ten Kings of Atalanté.”

“That’s just a myth…isn’t it?”

“A myth, yes. Also, a reality. The word ‘myth’ is a convenience of nomenclature.”

“So, not really a god, just a god’s name for something else. What is that reality?”

“The Templars.”

“The Templars came from the Silvergrey Sea?”

“The first of them did. Poseidon caused it.”

“Poseidon wants it to start the Pleroma again.”

Another nod. Another disturbing smile. “Will you help? It’s what you were made for.”

Success. Drago could subvert her mission while pretending to aid it. His part had to be played to the hilt, though. “Not that long ago, you wanted to ‘end’ me. Why the change of heart?”

“If you’re willing to help, it will save the time that finding you a new vessel would take.”

“You’re on a schedule?” He knew she was, but his ‘ignorance’ had to be convincing.

Only the smile. This one told Drago it was worth more than his life to make another wiseass remark. Some of Mr. Tranker’s manner had evidently rubbed off on him—Drago smiled right back. “Do you expect me to believe you would trust me?”

“You must understand your purpose on some level. You were chosen for this.”

“Will I be allowed to return to my rest when this is done?” Playing the innocent victim. There was no way to return him since he had absorbed another psyche unless the new psyche earned that right.

“Your return will be effected by the climax of the rite itself.” She bought it.

“I will help. What’s the first move?”

She responded by standing and walking out of the square. Drago expected something to happen along the lines of what had happened to them when they had first tried it—pain. She showed no sign of that, however. She’d certainly seemed to feel pain before the Hermetist inquisitors had arrived. Either she was faking pain or more likely, she could ignore the pain of her host. Drago felt pity for the woman who had been Rayne Hermit.

She turned and walked right up to Drago, into his square. She held out her hand, her smile looking much less lethal.

Drago rose and took it. Together, they walked out of his square. Drago himself felt nothing, but a shudder in the Erthe Woman’s hand told him that something like pain must be happening to her, or her vessel.

—Gideon Jagged
Innsmouth, September 2026

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