She decided it must have been a silly sight – a tiny girl, lying flattened against the beast’s vast neck.

“You think it’s that weird that I can talk?” the huge crimson Dragon chuckled. The vibration shook every bone in AsaHi’s body from where she lay flat against the massive beast’s neck.

“I guess not… now that I consider it,” the girl answered slowly. “I’ve just never… talked to a Dragon before.”

The second Dragon – a smaller bronze — winged in along side them. AsaHi could see SoYa’s slumped form held safely between the Dragon’s claws. The bronze’s eyes narrowed upon the crimson Dragon, voice barking out sharp insult, “You dolt! What are you doing? Shooting the breeze? We don’t have all day – Zento’s kid needs treatment, ASAP!”

“Go on ahead, gem. I’ll catch up,” the crimson replied, seemingly unconcerned. “Morh-AsaHi and I were just having a little chat.”

“Call me ‘gem’ again and I’ll knock that brainless look right off your half-wit face!” the bronze Dragon growled before winging off through the cloud banks.

AsaHi winced. “Ouch…”

A huge chuckle rose from within the crimson’s chest. “I love doing that to her.”

“Her?” AsaHi squinted as the bright point of bronze slipped off across the backdrop of indigo treetops. “You mean, there are girl Dragons?”

“Unfortunately,” he replied. Another deep laugh.

It seemed that everything about the crimson Dragon was oversized, even for a Dragon. From the massive claws… to the wide snout… to the great hearty laugh. However, rather than giving the creature an air of intimidation, the collective largeness made him a feel all the more jovial and friendly. His easy manner reminded one of a cheerful big brother.

Really, really big…

“Don’t mind her. That’s just Islay,” the crimson caught an upper draft, meandering along through the clouds effortlessly. “She’s my little sister.”

“Sister!?” again, AsaHi caught herself suspended in surprised.

Why should that be impossible? I mean, if Dragons talk, why can’t they have family?

“Yeah. And she says that gives her a permit thrash me,” there was a smile to his voice. Then he added, “Though I think she believes that just a bit too much.”

AsaHi smiled a little, thinking about her own brothers and sisters. “That’s just how sisters can be sometimes…”

“You’ve got some too?”

“I’m the youngest of eight,” she answered. It was too odd to comprehend. Her, there on Dragonback, conversing so easily with this huge mythic beast that she knew nothing about.

“Eight!?” the Dragon gave a whistle. “How’d you get out of that one alive?”

AsaHi was too busy grappling with the idea that Dragons could whistle to reply.

The Dragons seem so much like us? At least… this one does.

The girl tightened her grip upon the thick black mane, feeling strength even in that. AsaHi had never been much for riding Rhawns despite SoYa’s love of them. So riding a Dragon for the first time was quite the awkward feat – especially as high above the earth as they were.

If I were to fall, that would be it.

Not that she was really afraid of heights. It was just hard to get a grasp on keeping her balance as the Dragon moved. At least with the Rhawn, she had a time to watch their quick-hoofed gaits before mounting one. But the way of Dragonflight was absolutely new to her.

Though the land below… is very pretty from up here.

She decided it must have been a silly sight – a tiny girl, lying flattened against the beast’s vast neck. It was so thick that there was no way she could have reached her arms around to the other side – it would have taken three of her to accomplish such a thing. So she was resolved to cling to the Dragon’s mane, wrapping her fingers through the silky length of black, knees pressed against the crimson hide.

He seems to be taking it slow. Maybe for my sake?

AsaHi could feel the powerful ripple of muscles moving under her palms — the rise and fall of wings. Wings so huge that when extended to full length, their shadows could shelter fifty people each. Maybe more.

And yet he seems to act as if it’s as normal as can be.

“Do you have a name, too?” AsaHi called to him over the racing winds.

“Sure do,” the Dragon replied. “They call me Brunswik.”

“Brunswik… and Islay…” she repeated to herself, hoping not to forget.

“That’s it!”

“I’ve never heard names that sound like those before,” the girl said. A question hidden in the statement.

Obviously a talkative type, Brunswik picked up on it instantly. “You ever been beyond the borders of the Inner Realm before?”

“No… this is my first time,” AsaHi replied. And in that moment, soaring high above the indigo sea, the girl realized just how far from home she really was.

Her hands clung more tightly to the black mane.

“That would be the reason, then,” the Dragon cheerfully reasoned. “Islay and me, we come from the Eastlands originally.”

“Oh..?”

Just how big is this world? Every time I turn around there’s a new place being talked about.

“I tell ya, you just can’t get smoked perth the same anywhere else,” Brunswik continued conversationally. “You ever ate yourself some smoke perth before?”

“N…no…” She didn’t even know what perth was. But for fear of embarrassment, she didn’t tell him so.

“Well, it just doesn’t get any better than that!” There was an excitement to his voice. As if he was mentally reconstructing the taste. “All dark and crispy on the outside… all flakey white on the inside. Then you dip your bread in the juices when it’s all gone. Ah, what I wouldn’t give to give it just one more try.”

“Why can’t you?”

“There are some things that you just can’t do as a Dragon,” Brunswik replied. The slightest tinge of nostalgia. “Not much I miss from my person days. But eating perth is one.”

Person days..?

AsaHi leaned closer over the great arch of crimson neck. She found the Dragon’s hide to be smooth and warm, much like very thick skin. “You mean you were actually… like us once?”

“That’s right,” the Dragon chuckled. “We were all people-persons before we were Dragons.”

“All of Zemi’s Dragon Servants were…?” there was a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach.  She knew that Kudako had lived a life as a man before he vowed his services to Zemi. But it never crossed her mind that the rest of the Dragons might have been the same.

“Hrm? You didn’t know about that?” he seemed a little concerned at her reaction.

“There’s a lot… I don’t really know about… I guess,” AsaHi answered, feeling once again like a tiny speck floating in the grand scheme of things.

Just when I think I do…

“Hey, buck up, little one,” Brunswik said encouragingly. “You’ve certainly got the time to be learning it all once we get to Wyndor. We’ll be coming upon it shortly now. Just keep watching those mountains there on the edge of the land. You see them?”

“Yes,” the girl answered, though a million more questions had already sprung to mind. Namely, “What’s Wyndor?”

“Now, then… you are who you are and you’re saying to me that no one’s told you about Wyndor yet?” the Dragon asked, a hint of disbelief in his voice.

‘You are who you are’…? What does he mean by that?

“No… but I have been to the place called Ceiswyr. Is it anything like that?” AsaHi asked, trying to show she wasn’t totally ignorant about the way things worked.

“Ah, yes. Lord Zemi’s Cyngan colony, that would be. I’ve never seen it myself – I work chiefly here in the Outterlands, you know. But I’ve heard Zento did a fine job on setting the place up,” Brunswik chatted.

“So is Wyndor similar?”

“Nah,” the Dragon shook his head out. The ripple of motion jolted her slightly where she still hung to the mane. “Wyndor is what us Dragons call our home. It is the realm where all Lord Zemi’s Servants gather.”

“Really?” For the millionth time that day, AsaHi was taken aback. She never thought about a home for the Dragons. “Then it’s like a city… except for Dragons?”

Okay… What’s next?

“I wouldn’t really call it a city…” he mused before giving a short laugh. “Could you imagine the size of the buildings it would take to make something like that?”

AsaHi stared down at the colossal creature. Then she shook her head. “Impossible.”

“Not impossible, not with Lord Zemi around. Maybe just unlikely…” Brunswik grinned. “After all, we’d have to have buildings that fit him, too.”

“You mean Zemi?”

“Yeah,” the crimson swayed slightly, pushing his way downwards through the clouds, “You want big? Just wait till you see Lord Zemi full-form. None of us can hold a flame to him.”

AsaHi swallowed, “Not even you?”

“Light, no! And I wouldn’t try to!”

Totally overwhelmed at the thought, the girl fell silent. Even though Brunswik seemed friendly enough – and she was sure the others were probably just as kind – there was still something about the idea of arriving in a city of Dragons that was scary.

Not that they’d ever do anything to hurt us… It’s just…

As if he could sense the girl’s troubles, Brunswik’s voice rose to her ears, jovial once more. “Hey, you’re not scared are you? I know we seem a big, brutish lot. But truth be told, we’re here to look out after you and Zento’s boy.”

“I… know,” she fought to keep her voice steady, eyes fixing on the silvery-hued mountains that were rising in the distance. That’s when it occurred to her. “I never got to thank you… and Islay… for coming to our rescue in the forest like that. We had no idea that those men were there… and SoYa… he’s just been sick.”

“It’s no problem,” the Dragon said cheerily. “Islay probably has the boy back at Wyndor by now. He’ll be tended to.”

How..? If you’re all Dragons, then…

“I told her to go on ahead of us. So you’d get a chance to try some riding,” Brunswik told her. “If you’re going to be staying among the Dragons, you better have an idea of how to hop on and fly.”

“Wait,” AsaHi blinked. “Who said we were staying among the Dragons?”

“Lord Zemi did,” he answered. Before she had a chance to react to his words, he was already off on another tangent. “There they be! The Whitbourne Mountains. What a sight to see, you think? I remember my first time…”

Brunswik’s chatter faded to the winds as AsaHi found herself lost to the stretch of magnificence that shown brilliant from below. The mountain range unfolded out of the forest land, a sweet silvery-white standing against the deep blue of sky. Instantly, she was reminded of Ceiswyr.

It was not snow atop the mountains that gave them their color, as the girl might have first guessed. It was simply the color of the stone itself. And it all shimmered in reflected sunlight as they drew nearer. Small winding streams ran rainbow rivulets down the cliff faces, lending a certain grace to gravity and feeding the pale green-hued valleys that slumbered between the hills.

Can such a place really exist…?

The vision did not vanish when she blinked. Instead, it grew more inspiring the closer that Brunswik flew. He was still talking. But her mind was tracing the stone, looking for any signs of a Dragon city.

“Hold on tight, now,” he instructed, the first serious tone to his voice so far.

AsaHi felt them bank about. Then they were facing the side of the mountains, flying directly at it, head-on. The girl’s hands clamped even more tightly to the Dragon’s mane as the reflection of sun flamed off of white stone, leaving her vision a dazzled array of impossible colors.

When her eyes adjusted, AsaHi realized they were no longer in flight. Somehow they had passed through the stone… into the Great Chamber.

Then JouKa snorted down at him through her nose, “In fact, I bet yer one ‘o those Neffies, aren’t ya?”

‘When people are bored, a little something of their true nature comes out.’ That’s what Father had once said, long ago. Maybe that’s why TsuYa rarely allowed himself to become bored if he could help it.

He sat on the lower slope of the hill, as far away from JouKa as he could. Every now and then he would catch himself subconsciously scratching at the spot of his shirt-front that lay right above the darkened area on his chest. Time and again TsuYa would find himself caught in a suspended moment of dark memory… and most of all, dread. Dread that someone would take notice. But no one ever did.

In fact, JouKa seemed to be totally ignoring him. She had found a random stick and was entertaining herself by poking at the ground in a vicious manner. Though the two of them were forced to be together most of the day, nearly every day, little in the way of words ever passed between them. It was the only way to keep the peace, which more often than not, tottered on the edge of nonexistence.

Somewhere in between the two, Suzume sat in the grass, trying to braid her own hair. It was something that Aunt SaRa had attempted to show the girl, now that her hair was growing out again. And it only managed to win the child a headful of knots and snarls by the end of the day.

“Suzume,” TsuYa lifted his voice. Not gruff, but letting her know who was boss. “Stop that.”

The child dropped her hair instantly. Veiled face turned to regard him. It was hard to tell if there was fear there or not. So far, she had not spoken to anyone again.

“Suzume,” JouKa countered. “There’s nothin’ wrong with braidin’ yer ‘air. Go on ahead, missy.”

The child paused, face turning towards the winged girl. Then Suzume turned back to TsuYa, as if confused.

“Stop undermining me,” he grumbled back over one shoulder with a deep frown.

“And why don’t ya leave the little girl alone?” JouKa retorted with a few more sharp jabs of her stick to the ground. “She can braid ‘er ‘air if she fancy well pleases!”

“What a waste of time,” TsuYa hunched his shoulders with a quiet huff. “Tell me what good in the Seven Universes is teaching a kid to make knots in her own hair?”

“Braiding is plenty useful!”

“Coming from you and your no-hair?” he gibed, his frown slipping into a self-amused expression. She was the only girl that he had ever seen who had a guy’s haircut by choice.

“What did you say?” JouKa was suddenly on her feet, the stick discarded in the grass.

Suzume sat there, watching with an expression of curiosity.

“You heard me,” TsuYa pretended to be engrossed with observing the toe of his boot. Still, he was watching the girl out of the corner of his eye for the next undercut that she might try to pull.

“Well the men of my Gathering wouldn’t be caught dead wearing girl’s ‘air like yours,” her fists were clenched tightly at her sides, retort echoing sharp in the air. Then JouKa snorted down at him through her nose, “In fact, I bet yer one ‘o those Neffies, aren’t ya?”

“Neffies?” his eyes narrowed as he turned, for the first time focusing sharply on her face. One thing he didn’t abide by was being insulted with a word when he had no idea what it meant.

“Seein’ that you don’t even know what I’m talkin’ about, I assume so,” with a slightly smug look, the winged girl leaned back, arms crossed.

“Assume so?” he held his voice level, the best attempt at keeping his irritation from showing. But he had turned around now, facing her with his full attention. And she knew it. “You don’t know your finger from you heel when it comes to assuming things about me.”

“And you don’t have a clue about what a Neffie is,” she taunted.

Suzume was staring back and forth between them in wonder. Or amusement.

“Neffie,” TsuYa muttered, “Sounds like something you’d name a dog.”

“Then it’d be quite fitting for you, wouldn’t it?” she smirked, flipping one stray lock of short hair over her shoulder. It was one of those annoying habits that she had. But only when she was irritated.

“And just what is your problem?” TsuYa’s brows drew down sharply, lips pursed. Instantly he knew what the answer would be.

“You are!” she retorted without hesitation, faithful to predictability.

“Listen, I don’t have to take this crap from you,” he jabbed a finger forward. Seeing no ground being won in this matter, he decided it was time to pull rank. “I bet you don’t have any idea of who you’re talking to.”

“A lout with an over-inflated ego?”

He ignored that, rising to his feet to give his statement extra prominence. “I am TsuYa, son of ZenToYa who was the founder of this city. As well as the founder of the School in Nefol.”

Apparently, no one had informed the girl of his position. For the first time, JouKa hesitated as an expression of surprise and dismay flooded her face. After a moment of self-collection she said, “You are not.”

“Don’t believe me if you don’t want to,” reassuming his dignity, he turned his gaze the other way, both hands planted on his hips. “You’re only fooling yourself.”

“If you’re the son of ZenToYa,” the girl’s face contorted, as if struggling with what she could not deny. “Then why the ‘ell ain’t ya got any wings?”

“And how did you ever manage to swipe yours?” TsuYa sneered. “I would have thought Lord Zemi would have better taste. Guess even he gets a little desperate sometimes.”

“That’s not any of yer business!” JouKa’s voice had grown absolutely solid.

“Then, likewise,” he told her.

“I shoulda known. You really are a Neffie — in the worst way possible! To think, yer infernal father founded that awful ‘eap of a School!” she suddenly blurted, as if trying to find any way to move the topic beyond that of wings.

“Don’t talk about my father like that!” TsuYa hissed through bared teeth, his eyes growing momentarily darker.

By his will or by his words, a shadow fell over the hillside as a sweep of grey clouds drew over the sun. JouKa shivered in the sudden dimness of the day, weighing her words far more carefully than before. Even Suzume stopped plucking at the tall-stemmed weeds to peer at him.

TsuYa froze, caught in the grips of a panicked silence. Every ounce of his will bent towards reclaiming control as something dark and terrifying writhed inside. The spot on his chest had begun to burn.

Seemingly unaware, JouKa remained fighting to hold her ground. She lifted her chin up, forcing her gaze to meet his. “And what are you goin’ to do to me if I do? Bring the fires rainin’ on my ‘ead? Make the ground swallow me up?”

“Don’t be stupid,” TsuYa found his voice quiet to his own ears. Anger drained quickly from his limbs at the suggestion that he would stoop to such abominable actions.

“That’s what yer kinda people do,” she insisted, still a bit shaken. Her eyes flicked over his face rapidly, as if trying to decide how true the statement was.

“My kind of people?” he echoed, voice hinging on incredulous. “I told you… you know nothing about me. I don’t belong to any people. Not up here. Not down there.”

Suddenly she had nothing to say. Her green eyes simply remained fixed on the stern lines of his face. As she turned her head to peer away, the silent, almost imperceptible statement of ‘me neither’ was there. Just for a second, despite the fact she had not said anything.

“I find that ‘ard to believe,” JouKa said. There was a grudging sound to her voice. It was the first time she had spoken in a calm, non-aggressive manner towards him.

“Why?”

“If you are ‘oo you say you are… the son of ZenToYa. ‘Ow can you not belong to yer own School?”

“Because, the School’s changed a lot since Father… disappeared,” TsuYa told her. “And I hate what it’s become — run by some lousy Council of know-it-alls. All the stupid new rules they’ve been slapping on people. And how the Searchers have been instructed to go out and forcefully recruit people that have Talent.”

JouKa’s eyes flicked up, meeting his gaze.

“It’s all a big mess… it’s all straight out wrong! And it would have never happened if Father had been there,” he buried one fist into the palm of his other hand.

“Then why didn’t you do somethin’ about it?” the expression on JouKa’s face hardened again. Her blame was very clearly spoken and certainly aimed at him. For what, he did not know.

“It wasn’t my place,” he frowned, spreading his hands.

“What, yer ZenToYa’s son, right?” one hand planted on her hip as her feet dug in firmly in the ground. She was up and ready for the next round.

“The youngest son,” TsuYa said ruefully. “My brother, SoYa, was the one next in line to inherit the position of command in the School.”

“Then ‘ow come ‘e didn’t do anythin’?” she was starting to sound like a broken record. Trying to ferret out any point of fault that she could.

“Neither of us was old enough to be taken seriously by the Council,” he gave a grouchy look. It was really none of her business, but for the sake of his brother’s good name, TsuYa explained, “Personally, I don’t think they had ever planned on giving SoYa his rightful position. But there would have been some serious issues coming from my direction if they ever tried to rip his rank.”

The winged girl fell silent, now, looking as if she was mulling over what he had just told her. Picking it apart. Trying to see how well it stood up against her own precooked perceptions of the world.

TsuYa leaned against a nearby tree stump and waited for her response, determined to let her make the next move. But JouKa did not speak again — except to intercept Suzume in the act of resuming the braid in her hair. “Don’t do that, missy. Yer goin’ to tie it up in knots.”

“Now, this will be an easy game to play,” Zento told him in a low voice.

They broke from the shadows of the forest – two winged harbingers of doom!

Zento landed lightly on his toes, shrugging the last of the moss from his shoulders. In the future he would choose his ambush spots better, away from dangling moss, spider webs and ant hills.

Caught within the jaws of a two-pronged attack, the foe was swept up in a wave of dismay.

Kudako’s huge form burst into the narrow gully from the other side, his vicious roar shaking the leaves off the nearby trees. His normal fighting staff was too small for him to wield, thus the Dragon had gone for hand to hand while in beast form. As much as he complained about his lack of fighting skills, Zento had yet to see a weapon that could match Kudako’s claws in speed and strength.

This was all topped off by the Fear Aura that bled from the Dragon’s very presence — a power that could twist an opponent’s fear into a weapon more devastating than a sword. Zento had seen a full brigade of men paralyzed under Kudako’s stare alone. Most of them hadn’t realized their fate until it was too late.

The brave… no… no. Magnificent..? No… more like… The glorious warrior, a noble hero of the people, loved far and wide across the Inner Realms, leapt into battle with his blade ready!

The yellow-haired warriors instantly puddled together under the pressure of fear as battle fell upon them. Their weapons hung loose in their grip. Legs grew weak and wavering as the men staggered back, seeking any form of escape from the massive beast that locked their mind in a waking nightmare.

No one could capture the speed and prowess of the mighty warrior, the illustrious warrior, the exalted warrior! His feet danced out a rhythm that only his own mind could comprehend. And the enemy fell in his wake!

Zento kicked the groaning warrior in front of him while blunting the next across the back of the head with a deft motion of the Bhinod’s grip. Striking at things that barely had the will to fight back wasn’t much of a challenge… hardly more difficult than picking flowers in the field.

In countless numbers they fall. The inevitable. And in glory, his name will be sung in songs far and wide!

Still, there was a reason to fight those of the Spiral. These were the people who trained their children to become Annihilators. They sent these terrible creations to the Inner Realms to hunt and destroy all – men, women and children. Innocent people all cut away under the flash of a sword.

This history Kudako taught him from the very beginning, when Zento was still a young boy. The Dragon brought him up with knowledge of the art of war as it was passed along through the generations of the people in the Outterlands. And from Zemi, Zento discovered how use the power of magic that lay dormant inside of him.

Between these great wells of knowledge, ZenToYa had grown into a man of immense stature and destiny.

…And a mighty warrior, an illustrious warrior, an exalted warrior!

“Zento,” Kudako’s deep voice rumbled over the gully. “Hold.”

Hark, the warrior stops!

The winged man paused, the blunt end of his weapon poised to strike the last standing Spiral warrior that stood shaking in the Dragon’s shadow. Zento’s green eyes turned to regard his companion with a hint of curiosity.

“We need one conscious,” the Dragon explained, eyes narrowing on the lone warrior. There was a low note in his voice that hinted terrible things, “We could use information.”

“Oh, all right…” Zento lowered his weapon.

…the great and merciful warrior! He spares his final foe – what virtue!

Zento pulled a length of rope from the packs that they left hidden among the tall grass. Carefully, he disarmed the terrified, pale-faced warrior and tied his hands behind his back. Then leading him away from the battle glade, Zento secured the man to a branch of a tree – not so much that it would be uncomfortable, but enough so that the man had only enough slack to stand.

Kudako paced behind them, a hulking shadow slipping through the forest. The man of the Spiral stared with horror at the Dragon, the whites of his eyes rolling in fear until Kudako was well out of sight.

Zento leaned leisurely against the trunk of the tree, palm of one hand holding him up. “Guess this is your lucky day, friend. You’ve officially been promoted to prisoner.”

The warrior turned his blue eyes on his captor, seeming to notice the wings for the first time. There was fear in his face, a fear too strong for his pride to overcome.

“Now, this is an easy game to play,” Zento told him in a low voice. “We’re going to ask you a few questions, each varying in difficulty and topic. For each of these questions you get right, I’ll give you a hundred points. But should you get one wrong… or should you decide to tell us anything less than the truth… my Dragon friend will have a plentiful meal tonight.”

There was a grumble from Kudako in the depths of the forest. He was obviously staying out of sight so that the prisoner wouldn’t be scared into silence. “Just get on with it.”

“You understand the rules of the game?” Zento eyed the prisoner sharply.

The warrior nodded, looking even paler.

“Good,” the winged man murmured, turning towards the shadow in the trees. “He’s all yours.”

Kudako’s voice was level, neither harsh nor gentle. “What is the nature of the banners that fly over the outposts?”

As if he had expected something much more complicated to answer, the prisoner began to blather, very eager to please, “It is the mark of the High Clan.”

“High Clan? That is ridiculous! They are nothing more than a Ghost Clan.”

“N-no, Master. They are the High Clan,” he stuttered, sensing Kudako’s displeasure. Probably wondering if he had answered wrong and would soon find himself devoured.

“Define the term ‘High Clan’.”

“It is the Clan that has been designated to lead us.”

“Are you saying that the Spiral has been united under the command of a single Clan?” the Dragon growled.

“So it has been for many hundred years,” the warrior nodded vigorously. There was no doubt that he was telling the truth.

“I see,” then, silence from the forest.

Something’s not right with that, I suppose? It’s got Kudako pretty agitated.

“Who was the one to identify this High Clan?”

“Why, the Great Lion, of course. It has been discovered that SugiRu is a Speaker of mighty talent and wisdom,” the prisoner replied, squirming a bit at his ropes.

“And what of UragiRu?” Kudako’s questions were quick. Closing in on something.

“He is the Armsmaster while his sister is the Speaker.”

A low growl rose from the forest. “Their Clan should have been destroyed for the acts that were committed against fellow Clans. And yet, these are the ones that have taken power in the Spiral?”

The warrior gave a blank, frightened stare. Just to look at him, it obvious he was far too young to know about the times that Kudako spoke of.

As the Dragon stewed to himself, Zento decided to pull out a few questions of his own. “What was your business in this forest?”

“We were to hunt and kill the intruders…”

“Intruders?”

“Yes,” the warrior replied fearfully. “The ones who made a camp in the forests.”

AsaHi… SoYa!

“Were you successful?” Zento grasped the warrior by the front of his armor, yanking him forward roughly.

“No!” the prisoner flinched away, as if he knew the trouble he was in. His dirt-stained face was desperate, a glint of terror flickering in his eyes. His words stammered over each other, “The Dragons c-came… and fought on the side of the intruders. We lost all our scouts in retreat!”

The Dragons we saw earlier… oh… thank the Light..!

“Where are the ‘intruders’ now?”

“I don’t know,” he shook his head, slumping a bit. Fear stold his strength away. “I don’t know…”

Zento sighed softly, looking into the face of the frightened warrior. His enemy. One that would have slain his son and his future daughter-in-law. One who would have not spared a second thought in cutting himself down if given the chance. Yet, just beyond the edge of boyhood… hardly older than his own sons.

Then, the winged man peered back towards the forest. “Is that all you need to know?”

There was a long silence. Then finally, “Yes. That is all.”

“So whadda do you want to do with him now?” A hint of loathing trailed in his voice.

The shadows began to move forward, as the Dragon emerged from his spot. Everything about his manner spoke his displeasure. The prisoner stared up with glassy eyes, paralyzed at the vision before him. Every inch of his body shook, but the rope did not allow him the convenience of falling to his knees.

“You will return to the Spiral. And you will bear a message for UragiRu, the Armsmaster,” Kudako’s gold eyes shown in two thin slits. “You will tell UragiRu that his enemy, KudakoRe, has returned to avenge the murder of his Clan.”

Zento’s breath came in a quiet hiss as things began to fall into place.

Avenge… the murder of his Clan? This is one story I haven’t heard yet.

“Is that clear?” Kudako growled.

The prisoner nodded vehemently, eyes never leaving the shape of the Dragon before him.

“Good. Zento, release him.”

A sense of slight relief fell over Zento’s mind as he flipped out his dagger, slicing through the rope. The Spiral warrior reclaimed his freedom by falling flat on his face. With a wild-eyed look, the yellow-haired man stared over his shoulder at the two. Then without another sound, he staggered to his feet and dashed away through the forest with the speed that spoke of nightmares burning his heels.

As she walked past the Arweinydd on her way out, she pointed a finger towards his midsection. “And you behave yourself, Zemi!”

“Zemi… made all this?” AsaHi gasped as she slipped from Brunswik’s back into the light of the Great Chamber. For a moment, she was far too dazzled to even think, the prismic embrace wrapping around her in a symphony of warm light.

“Well, he pieced together a bit of this and a little of that, but overall, yeah. He made it,” the Red Dragon lifted his great head to study the room along side of her. “Pretty cozy, you think?”

I don’t think that cozy would be the word I’d pick…

AsaHi felt herself shrink as she walked into the hall.

The Great Chamber was the centermost point in the realms of Wyndor, a place of mystery that was nestled into the heart of the mountain itself. It reminded AsaHi of the gardens that Zemi had kept back on Ceiswyr. Except it was bigger… maybe a hundred times bigger. It was hard to tell — the way that the light reflected from the multi-faceted walls made reality blend with illusion.

Wyndor…

It seemed as if some gentle hand had reached into the center of the highest mountain in the range and coaxed the earth into a new form. Huge spiraled pillars of sparkling stone rose from the black-glassed floor to tickle the underside of a vanishing dome. The walls reflected in myriad-patched colors, a sweeping mural of gem-stone and earth crystal more wondrous than any Earthian hand could capture in paint.

So beautiful… can it be real?

At the top of the room was the grandeur of the sky’s vast dome. Even though AsaHi knew they were tucked away deep in the mountainside, when she looked up towards where the dim stone roof should have blocked the sunlight, a pastel blue sky shown through. It seemed as if from the inside, the stone was invisible… though from the outside, it had looked like a solid rock mountain.

Everywhere that the girl looked the sunlight illuminated the vast Chamber, setting it a blaze of opalfire under dapples of capering cloud-wisp. A wide circle of tall stone platforms ringed the center of the room. Great globes of clear white hovered just above each, humming softly with their own, slumbering power.

And I thought Ceiswyr was something that couldn’t be rivaled. But here… now this…

Smaller archways branched out from the Chamber’s walls, leading off to what AsaHi figured must have been separate living quarters for the Dragons that took up residence in Wyndor. Some areas of the Chamber had surrendered completely to carpets of soft plant life. This seemed to be mostly gathered around the single trickle of waterfall that pooled cheerfully in one corner, ringed in flowers of many colors.

AsaHi found herself drawn towards the pool. The flowers reminded her of Zemi for some reason. Maybe… it was the strange, comforting scent.

He must really like plants a lot.

Her eyes brushed over the quilted brilliance. Most of the flowers were unlike anything she had ever seen before… except…

“Oh!” the girl leaned down quickly. “It’s a cred! What’s this doing here?”

The strange flower of the mountaintops… the one that Apprentices used in their meetings with the Dreigiau in the Host Gate. The flower she had quested after for many days, so that she, too could enter the Gate and…

…Try to prove that Zemi didn’t exist…

“Ah, that. It would be one of Zemi’s favorite,” a silvery, warm voice came from the other side of the pool.

“I… I…?” AsaHi jerked back, feeling at first as if she might have been caught doing something wrong. After all, cred were very, very rare. But here, they dotted the vine-like grass just as common as all the rest of the flowers.

A small woman sat watching her from a mossy rock next to the pool. Her skin was a warm, golden color, a few shades darker than the long stream of pale-gold hair that trickled down her shoulders like a wave of pure sunlight. Her eyes were bright violet, shining with a friendly, welcoming light. And though she didn’t look much older than AsaHi, there was a feel of timelessness about her that gave the impression of wisdom that ran the depth of the ocean.

She smiled, a kind smile, gathering up her simple white robes as she rose to her feet. “Zemi only lets certain people find that flower, you know.”

AsaHi blinked a few times.

“Usually people he wants to meet,” her feet didn’t so much as crush a leaf of the vines as she walked through the carpet of green. She lifted a graceful hand in a way of greeting. “And now, it is my honor to finally meet you, AsaHi.”

Absolutely dumbfounded, the girl could only stare. Such a beautiful vision… such a wondrous place… everything far beyond her imagination… yet…

Everyone knows who I am before I even meet them. It’s as if people here were waiting for SoYa and I to come.

AsaHi had never learned much in the way of etiquette. But she did the best that she could to give a polite bow to the strange, golden woman.

“No need to do that, child. If there’s one thing I agree with Zemi on, it’s that formality is for the birds,” she smiled. “And as you can see, we are Dragons. Not birds.”

“You’re… you’re a Dragon?” AsaHi’s mouth almost fell open, her green eyes staring at the woman in disbelief.

“It seems pretty unlikely, doesn’t it?” there was a hint of laughter in her voice. “Don’t you ever let the world only go as deep as your vision can see. It will deceive you of the best, most wonderful parts.”

What should I say…? I’m just making myself look silly now!

“My name is KaiShi,” the woman offered, as if sensing that AsaHi was having a hard time figuring out what to do. “And I am certain that you and I will come to know each other very well.”

“Oh..?” was all that the girl could manage. Feeling dumb, she tried to force more words from her leaden lips. “Why… why do you look like a person if you’re a Dragon? Are you like Kudako… or do all the Dragons shift shape?”

“Like Kudako? You mean Old Somber-pants?” KaiShi laughed. It was an inviting laugh that somehow made AsaHi feel a bit more easy. “No… Kudako is different from all the other Dragons. Even myself.”

“Oh…” AsaHi found herself saying again. Then chided herself for it.

“As for me, I’ve been gifted a form that the rest of my kind do not have. It is simply because I lead the Dragon Servants here in Wyndor. And to have an Earthian form may prove useful should I ever need to spend time among the people.”

“You’re… the leader?” the girl blinked, heart sinking.

Great… she’s the leader and I’ve done nothing but been a bumbling dolt around her. She must think I’m a real dim-wit.

“That’s right. But to look around this place, sometimes you wouldn’t know it,” the woman wrinkled her nose. “Some of these guys are no better than a bunch of little boys who haven’t learned how to play in the sandbox together.”

AsaHi found herself smiling in spite of herself.

KaiShi smiled back, and gave a beckoning wave. “Follow me. SoYa is resting, but it would probably do you good to have a look at him, yes?”

Does she know about that, too?

A bit taken back, AsaHi followed the Lady Dragon as they strode across the black-glass floor towards one of the tall archways on the other side of the Chamber. The girl made to wave her thanks to Brunswik, but she found that the huge crimson Dragon was already in a state of deep slumber… right where she had left him only minutes ago.

“That’s Brunswik for you,” KaiShi shook her head, then tapped her finger against her temple with a slight grin. “Nice enough fellow… sometimes a bit more muscle than mind. But well-meaning at heart, all the same.”

A soothing dimness fell over the girl as she walked under the archway into a long, smooth stone corridor. AsaHi had expected that the adjoining passages might not have been as polished as the main Chamber. But she found herself proven wrong. It was as if every inch of Wyndor had been crafted with the most exquisite detail and care.

Only a few doorways down, KaiShi turned, leading AsaHi into a small side room. It would have hardly fit Brunswik’s head should the vast Red Dragon have wanted to peer in. But it was quite comfortable for someone like AsaHi.

The stone walls were draped with soft flows of off-white cloth. A large bed-like structure had been coaxed out of the dip in the far wall. AsaHi wasn’t certain what was being used for a mattress, but the way that SoYa was sleeping, tucked between folds of cream on white, it certainly looked to be very comfortable.

“SoYa…!” her voice came, unattended. AsaHi rushed over to the bedside, placing her hand against his forehead.

He didn’t stir as she touched him. But his sleep seemed deep and untroubled. As if somehow he was being healed, very slowly, as the moments of slumber passed him by.

“He’s going to be okay, right?” the girl peered up at the Lady Dragon.

“It’s only exhaustion,” KaiShi answered. She reached her slender fingers out, combing them slowly through SoYa’s curls. There was a sad, but familiar manner to her touch.

AsaHi watched, uncertain as to what the exchange meant. Something about it stirred a feeling deep inside her. A feeling that was completely unknown.

Finally, the woman peered up, soft violet eyes drinking in AsaHi’s image. “He should be fine after a bit of rest. You should see that you get some rest if you can, too. We will be serving a welcome dinner as soon as the both of you are well enough to attend.”

A banquet… with Dragons? That would be a sight to see…

Her thoughts were interrupted by the slow motion of KaiShi’s hand as it lifted and gestured across the room. For the first time, AsaHi realized that there was a second huge, comfortable bed. And this one practically had her name written on it.

AsaHi crossed the room, smoothing her hands over the bedding, face lit up with great cheer. The knowledge that SoYa would finally recover, that the both of them were somewhere safe and beautiful… on top of the sight of the big cozy bed… allowed all the tension of the dark journey to drain away.

“For me!?” she squeaked, sounding much more like a little girl than she would have liked to.

That’s when she first heard the sound of laughter – familiar laughter. The girl jerked her head around and saw him standing in the doorway. Her heart leapt into her throat, unbidden, every inch of her body suddenly going quivery and weak.

“Zemi!?” AsaHi managed to speak his name.

He leaned against the archway, looking much the way he always did in Ceiswyr – she had half expected him to have taken the vast, majestic Dragon form that Brunswik had described. Instead, he stood there, dressed in his normal overrobes, hands tucked into his pockets, a smile made just for her.

Nothing at all like that night she had found him, scrabbling to hold on to his senses in the midnight forest.

“Well, look who’s poking his nose in where it doesn’t belong,” KaiShi scrunched her face at the Dreigiau, breaking AsaHi’s daze. “Hasn’t anyone taught you to knock before you enter a bed chamber, Lord Dragon?”

“Sorry, not yet,” he gave a quick grin.

“Well, you certainly don’t look sorry,” the lady Dragon scolded gently, picking up a pile of washing cloth that was on a platform next to SoYa’s bed. “You should leave these children to their sleep. They’ve had a hard time of it.”

“That’s exactly why I was checking in on them,” Zemi’s smile widened.

“Of course it is,” KaiShi sighed, then turned to look at AsaHi. “I’m going to get some wash done, but I will return shortly. Is there anything that you need?”

“No, I’m fine. Thank you,” AsaHi shook her head.

“Get some rest then,” the lady Dragon nodded. As she walked past the Arweinydd on her way out, she pointed a finger towards his midsection. “And you behave yourself, Zemi!”

AsaHi gave a quiet smile, watching KaiShi vanish through the doorway. That’s when she realized she was now all alone with the Dreigiau. And he was looking right at her.

“Hi… AsaHi..?” he sounded strangely uncertain of himself. As if now that the girl had seen part of his secret, he wasn’t sure if she wanted to talk to him again.

But she did.

“Zemi..? I’ve been worried about you!” she knew how childish it probably sounded to the Dreigiau. But she said it anyhow. Mostly because it was the truth.

“You have?” there was a hint of delighted surprise to the words. As if it was a cue, Zemi began to make his way from the door towards where she was standing.

“Yes… I didn’t know if you were okay. You simply vanished…” AsaHi swallowed, fighting the apprehension and happiness that battled to get the best of her.

The warm, pleasant scent filled her senses as it always did when Zemi was near. Her mind could now picture the little sunlit pool garlanded with flowers, knowing that was where the scent had come from. And she couldn’t help but smile.

“No worries. Everything is just fine now, Sunshine!” a large, hearty laugh rippled along his words.

It made her wonder how much he was really holding back.

“So… what do you think about the digs, eh?” Zemi eyed her and changed the subject. Possibly sensing that she had caught on to him. “Pretty hi-res, you think?”

AsaHi found a pathetic lack of words to describe anything, her mind still trying to wrap around the immensity of the place. “It’s… it’s really something else, Zemi. I wish I could tell you how amazing it is. I never even imagined something like this could exist… I just…”

The Dreigiau raised a finger, giving a simple nod. She knew he understood her, words or not. Zemi was just like that.

“Well… I’ll leave you to your rest, then. I just wanted to see if everything was okay on your arrival,” Zemi turned and began to make his way back towards the door. His steps were slow, obviously unwilling.

AsaHi’s throat tightened as she watched him. Her hands clutched at the white bedsheets, eyes never leaving the Dreigiau’s back. Finally, she managed to peep, “Zemi?”

The Arweinydd paused, peering over his shoulder. His face was questioning. And hopeful.

“Thank you..?” she offered. Simply because she didn’t know what it was that he really was hoping for. And it made her feel bad.

“Sure thing,” he gave a wide, fangy grin. And looked for all the world like the Kaze she remembered.

Just as he went to step out the door, she found herself calling again, “Z-Zemi?”

Again, the Arweinydd stopped. A quiet patience was written on his face. “Yeah?”

“I’m going to see you again, right?” AsaHi found herself asking, though confused as to why. “I mean, you’re going to be staying here in Wyndor for a while?”

I really never got to know you that well… and it’s not every day that someone has the chance to have conversations with the Arweinydd.

“I’m gonna be staying here. Yes,” he answered, face brightening. “We can hang out anytime that you want. Anytime is good, okay?”

“Okay..?” she gave a small, uncertain smile.

“Sleep well, AsaHi,” Zemi said softly, as if he understood anything about the concept of sleep. Then he turned and left the room, a swirl of crimson and gold.

“You see this? Do you know what it is?”

“Can I look yet?”

“Not yet! Keep walking!” AsaHi shuffled SoYa along, covering his eyes with her palms.

He managed a full ten steps before he asked again, playfully, “How about now?”

“SoYa! Keep going. I’ll tell you when!” the girl nudged him in the back.

She wanted the Great Chamber to be a surprise. The Apprentice had been unconscious at the point when he had first entered Wyndor. But now that they were both awake and well rested, AsaHi thought that the marvel of the Dragon Realm would help to cheer SoYa a little.

He’s still not talking about what’s on his mind. Maybe it was just the shock of the Passage. Or maybe it is just this whole journey. It’s not been easy for any of us.

SoYa was looking far better than he had in days. AsaHi knew it had to be something in the way this place worked. And because of Zemi’s influence. As un-Earthian as the Dreigiau was at times, he seemed to have a very strong grasp on things that afflicted the Earthian’s day-to-day life.

I still can’t help but really wonder why Zemi chose to become more like us… why he would take the burden of banishment. Are we really that important to him?

The Apprentice stumbled as they moved out into the wide black-glass floor of the Chamber. Both hands shot out to grasp the wall. “Woah! Slippery!”

“You’re just trying to peek!” AsaHi accused, pulling her thoughts away from Zemi. Far too often she found herself thinking about the Dreigiau rather than about the time she was supposed to be spending with SoYa. And that bothered her.

“I’m not… I promise!” he quivered in mock fear.

AsaHi smiled, just a bit.

Maybe it’s because I’d rather not think about SoYa…

She let the smile fade. The girl had promised not to judge SoYa on the name the world had given him for his abilities. But it still chilled her to have seen him work that power over other people. Sometimes her mind replayed the image of the pale blonde warrior who had come for her from the forest, his blade reflecting the image of her startled face as it dropped from his hand. In her memory he crumpled, once again clutching his throat.

I wonder if he lived…

And she could see the look of resolve on SoYa’s face, the Athrylith hand still outstretched. A command so powerful that it had wrenched the other man’s mind and left him helpless there upon the forest floor.

What did it mean?

She had never seen such grim determination on her Promised’s face.

Maybe because he was protecting me?

No matter how she looked at it, the whole situation still left her hair standing on end with chills. And though AsaHi wasn’t going to go back on her Promise to SoYa — she certainly cared for him just as much as ever now — it was still one thing to talk about Mind Magic and quite another to witness it being used.

“Okay,” she murmured in his ear. Then she pulled her hands away from his eyes, revealing the majesty of the Great Chamber, painted in a cloak of twilight hues.

It was just as beautiful as it had been during the day, though night had transformed it from a vibrant brilliance to a peaceful serenity. The globes that had been plain clear stone during the day now gave off a dim, blue glow, filling the room with a calming illumination. The sky was huge above them, the stars dazzling beyond anything she had seen. One of the moons was fading off into the speckled horizon, huge and mystical in its sinking silence.

“Hedd-ynad…” SoYa said, eyes round as they struggled to make sense of the impossible vision that swept up around him.

He’s been saying that a lot lately. Not that I really blame him…

AsaHi pursed her lips, folding her tiny hand into his. She leaned lightly against his shoulder. “So what do you think?”

“Is this place for real?”

“That’s what I said when I first saw it, too,” she almost laughed.

It had also been her first reaction. Despite SoYa’s magical nature, he was nearly as well grounded as she was. It was the quiet level-headedness that AsaHi loved about him.

“And this is where the Dragons live?”

“Yes, though… I guess they’re all off doing something. Or maybe they’re sleeping,” she squinted around the Chamber with a little frown. “I’ve only met a few of them…  I really don’t know how many Dragons there are.”

“You’ve met some of the Dragons?” SoYa gave her an incredulous look.

“Well, sure,” AsaHi smiled for him, tugging him across the room towards the flower-lit pool. “You’re one of Zemi’s Apprentices. Surely you have, too?”

He shook his head with a swallow, “Kudako… but that’s all. And I had never seen Kudako’s Dragon form before this either. Considering all the years I’ve known him…”

“The other Dragons don’t look much like Kudako, though. So don’t worry,” she told him. Carefully making her way through the vine-grass, AsaHi led him to one of the flat mossy rocks at the waterside. Folding her tunic fringe she settled down and gave him an inviting motion. “Come on?”

“What is this place…?” SoYa was staring at the cred flowers. He knew exactly what he was looking at. And his shock was very evident.

“It’s called Wyndor. You already know it’s where the Dragons live?” And that summed up about everything AsaHi really did know the place, she realized.

“No, no… I mean this place in particular?”

“Oh, this… I don’t really know?” she frowned. “But it’s pretty and I think…”

He was gazing around, still trying to digest it.

“And I think it’s a nice place to just sit,” AsaHi encouraged. She didn’t know why she suddenly felt like holding on to something familiar. But at that point she did. “Come sit with me, SoYa?”

The Apprentice’s eyes met hers for an instant. No further words were needed — a silent understanding connected between them. As it always did with SoYa. And now she knew why…

The same powers that can crumple a man to his knees with agony… can also reach out in understanding to someone in fear and pain. He’s always been there for me. He’s always been able to understand.

SoYa climbed up and sat beside her on the stone, his motions a bit clumsy after having only just recovered from his illness and sleep. His breathing was raspy and irregular, as if he was far more scared than she was.

“How do you feel?” AsaHi put her hand on top of his, watching the last reflections of the falling moon dance upon the faint ripples of the pool.

“Like I’m in some sort of children’s fairy-story,” he said softly.

The girl’s head tilted towards him. “That’s not what I was asking but… I know what you mean. It all seems so impossible, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” SoYa rasped slightly. “I remember when I was really young, Father used to tell Tsu and I stories of his own childhood. Stories of him and Kudako and the other Dragons… back before there was a School in Nefol. We’d laugh and tell him there had never been such a thing as a time before the School. It was far too hard to imagine. But…”

AsaHi kept silent, allowing him the time to pick his words. She traced her fingers over the back of his hand, watching how the light motion from the pool’s reflection played across his face.

“But now, it’s as if everything’s become one of those stories. Maybe Father and Tsu are good at these sorts of big adventures, but I’m not. Not really…” he finished, looking at her for feedback.

“I always thought adventures would be great fun, myself,” AsaHi admitted. “But most of this has just been plain scary.”

“Scary? For you?” SoYa smiled gently. “You’re the bravest person I know, AsaHi.”

She felt a flush rise in her cheeks, mostly because she could tell he wasn’t just saying that to make her feel good. “Me?” I don’t know about that…”

“It’s true,” he protested.

“Well…”

“It is true,” a second voice joined the conversation from behind, startling them so much that they both jumped.

A familiar, fangy grin greeted AsaHi’s startled stare. Dressed down in his usual red robes, hair a bit wild as it always was, Zemi looked very much like he had when he last talked to the girl. That had been a few days ago… and AsaHi realized that she had never gone to visit him as she promised.

“L-Lord Zemi?” SoYa beat her to the exclamation. His face had fallen very pale. It was quite obvious that the young Apprentice was not at all comfortable in the presence of the Dreigiau.

“Sorry if I interrupted?” Zemi quipped, not looking very sorry. In fact, he strode over and sat down on the other side of AsaHi his grin wide and easy.

SoYa was absolutely silent.

AsaHi suddenly felt quite uncomfortable herself.

“It’s such a beautiful night, I thought I’d steal myself a walk. I didn’t think we’d see the two of you up and roaming around. But I suppose you rested long enough,” the Arweinydd said, leaning back to peer at the stars with a casual air.

Something in his expression changed. Something about the way the starlight fell upon him made him seem somehow more unreal. As if he belonged amongst the pulses of silver, red and blue… and it was only a matter of his vast  will alone that kept him from bursting into a nebula of wondrous, devouring light.

SoYa was still tongue tied. Not wanting to be the only one to hold a conversation with the Dreigiau, AsaHi began to encourage subtle interaction. “SoYa and I really want to thank you for your wonderful hospitality…”

The Apprentice nodded his head, eager to please.

“Hospitality?” Zemi snorted. “I’m offended!”

The Apprentice shook his head just as quickly, face suddenly afraid.

“Hospitality is what you give strangers and people that you know but you’d rather not see,” the Dreigiau grumbled.

By this time, SoYa was too bewildered to be able to figure out how he should look.

Zemi eyed the Apprentice with a soft chuckle, “Relax, SoYa. You act like I’m going to strike you down with a spare meteor or something.”

“Um..!” SoYa’s frightened breath.

“Zemi,” AsaHi gave a gentle reminder, “SoYa’s had a rough time just lately.”

“That’s right,” the Dreigiau leaned forward so that he could peer past the girl at the frightened Apprentice. “I heard about what happened at the Passage. I’m sorry it was so difficult for you. There’s always been a lot of tricky stuff going on in that place.”

“I… believe it…” SoYa attempted to reply.

“It must be hard, especially now that everyone knows that you’re Athrylith,” Zemi flipped a hand forward, nonchalantly.

AsaHi hissed in her breath.

Zemi! How could you say that to him?

The Dreigiau’s eyes alighted on her with a ‘trust-me’ look. Then the gaze turned back to the pale-faced Apprentice.

SoYa looked about ready to hyperventilate. “I… didn’t want to be…”

“You didn’t want to be what?” Zemi’s voice was coaxing, as if he was pulling words from the depths of the Apprentice’s mind that SoYa would not normally say.

A soft sound of grief broke from his lips in response, “Why couldn’t I have been a normal mage like Tsu? Why did I have to be an Athrylith?”

“And why did I have to be Zemi Dreigiau? Why couldn’t I just be a normal, boring floating blob of unstructured light like the rest of the Arweinydd?” Zemi imitated the Apprentice’s anguished tone. And though it had been meant as a gentle joke, the pain in the Dreigiau’s voice sounded too real to be funny.

It was enough to get SoYa’s attention away from himself. Just for a moment.

“You see this?” the Dreigiau reached his hand forward, over AsaHi’s lap and towards the Apprentice.

SoYa shied back, uncertain what an open palm of an Arweinydd pointed in his direction might mean.

Zemi simply repeated himself, “You see this? Do you know what it is?”

“A… a hand?” the Apprentice answered meekly.

“Close… It’s a potential.” The Arweinydd didn’t miss a beat, “It’s the potential of ‘Esgor-ar. The ability for something without a natural solid form to Make itself on a physical plane. And it represents a power that my people are so afraid of that they would far rather destroy it than find any way to come to terms with it.”

SoYa just stared at the hand. As if trying to see how it was such a terrible thing.

“Mind Magic,” Zemi snipped the words off at the end, his speech no longer a casual drawl but an intense line of thought, “It’s rare and unusual. It takes a special person to grasp such a thing. It’s the potential of Athrylith. And it represents a power that your people are so afraid of that they would far rather destroy it than find any way to come to terms with it.”

AsaHi’s face shifted into an expression of slow understanding.

“My people have banished me, SoYa,” the Arweinydd admitted.

“What!?” the Apprentice’s head jerked up. Impossibility was smeared across his face.

I can’t believe Zemi actually told him…!

“That’s right,” the Dreigiau nodded. “Even the world I come from is that afraid of things that cannot be defined. If there’s a potential that is out of the norm, it should be destroyed. It doesn’t seem to matter that there’s just as much of a chance that the knowledge can be used for good as it could be for harm.”

“So… what… what are you going to do now that you’re… banished?” SoYa swallowed, hands shaking a little where they gripped the caps of his knees.

“Me?” Zemi leaned back. “Well… at first, it tore me all up inside. Just like it’s ripping at you.”

The last of the moonlight reflection faded into the peaking midnight. Only the soft glow of the orbs lit the room between them. SoYa’s eyes were bright from within, a soft green shimmer in the shadows, fixed upon the Dreigiau as if pleading for an answer to all the troubles of his world.

“But the more I thought about it, the more I decided that they had no business telling me what my intentions were when they didn’t know the first thing about what I was doing to begin with. All they ever tried to do was quantify me by the same means they wanted everything in their society to be measured by,” the Arweinydd murmured. “And I just don’t work that way.”

AsaHi took in a deep breath.

“And what’s more, I don’t ever plan on changing myself to work their way,” Zemi poked his leg repeatedly with one finger, accenting the words as he spoke them. “Because I am the way I am for a reason far beyond anything they could ever dare to dream. And in the end, the same can be said for you, SoYa.”

The Apprentice’s mouth hung slack, as if no one had ever told him such a thing before. And certainly never Lord Zemi Dreigiau.

The Arweinydd glanced a moment at AsaHi and gave a playful grin. “A little girl once told me…. that the rest of the world had no idea about what they’re losing out on. And I think, maybe it’s true for the both of us. What do you think?”

Still too dumbfounded to get his thoughts in order, SoYa stuttered, “M-maybe so..?”

But AsaHi couldn’t contain her pleasure. Her small hands slipped encouragingly around the Athrylith’s arm. Then around the Arweinydd’s. “I know so…. I know so!”

“Hot-roll!” he exclaimed, embarrassed again at the sudden turn of childishness that colored his voice.

“Ah, so you’ve found your way to the Outlook, have you?” the gentle, melodic voice came from somewhere behind.

SoYa peered back over his shoulder, realizing that someone had followed him. Strangely enough, he was not startled by the Lady Dragon’s sudden appearance. He decided that there was just something about the kindly woman was too serene to startle anyone.

“Yes, Ma’am,” the Apprentice answered quickly. “Is it wrong of me to be out here?”

“No, not at all,” KaiShi smiled. A golden smile. “I come to sit out here quite a bit myself. It’s the best view of the mountains over, don’t you think?”

“I haven’t had a chance to look around all that much, but it seems very beautiful from here,” SoYa felt a strange sensation tickling the back of his mind as she drew near. The Lady Dragon had some sort of basket hanging from one arm. Alarmingly pleasant smells rose from within, making his stomach gurgle, much to his embarrassment.

It only made KaiShi smile all the more, looking pleased. “Ah, I’ve come at a good time?”

“Yes, Ma’am, you certainly have?” SoYa smiled back, trying hard to relax. There was still a bit of jitter in his relations with the Dragons, despite having been in Wyndor for a number of days already.

Has it been three… or four days…? A week..? It’s really hard to tell. Time feels so strange in this place.

Not that time mattered to the Dragons. If they were anything like Kudako, none of them ever aged.

KaiShi pulled a small blanket from over her shoulder and unfolded it over the quiet white rock. “I was always amazed at how warm it was here. Being so high up, with snow everywhere else, you’d think it would be freezing. But it’s not. The Outlook always seems to be the perfect temperature, no matter what season it is.”

“Lord Zemi probably had something to do with it?” SoYa suggested, trying to sneak a look into the basket.

She paused in the middle of folding down her robes, “Do you still refer to him as ‘Lord’? I would have thought he’d broken you of doing that by now.”

SoYa swallowed. The mental picture of the Dreigiau breaking him across his knee came to mind.

When he didn’t answer, she left the question and turned her attention to the basket. Her slender hands reached inside and pulled out a small, rounded package, wrapped in a papery napkin. Cupping it within both of her hands, KaiShi lifted it, offering the first one to SoYa.

He gave a pleasant sound as he reached to retrieve it from her, his fingers closing around the still-warm wrap. Instantly, the scent filled his senses and SoYa found himself keeling over from a wave of powerful nostalgia.

“Hot-roll!” he exclaimed, embarrassed again at the sudden turn of childishness that colored his voice. “Oh, wow… these are my favorites! I haven’t had one in forever!”

“I’m glad,” she said simply, smiling as she watched him.

SoYa had already pulled the paper wrapping, biting into the bread and cheese. The thin crust had been browned to a soft perfection. The meat and cheese that mingled inside were an unusual combination to his tastes. But it was good. Very, very good.

He tried to tell her so, but his mouth was too full.

She only laughed, “Don’t forget to chew before you swallow or you’re going to choke. I’ve made a full batch of these, now. And they’re not going anywhere, I promise you.”

A flush rose in his cheeks as SoYa realized how he must have seemed to the Lady Dragon. But for that passing moment, he had forgotten who she was – AsaHi said that KaiShi was the leader of Zemi’s Dragon Servants. And for just that moment, he had the fleeting sense of comfort and home. Though he didn’t know why.

Maybe because… something about her is familiar.

SoYa paused to ponder the sudden thought as it rippled through his mind. Before that, he hadn’t even considered such a speculation. But now that it had been formally stated, he couldn’t shrug the thought off.

“We used to have these all the time when we were kids,” he finally ventured to talk after slowing down his wolfing pace. “Father used to say that there was a hot-roll for every occasion. I guess it was because you could put anything inside of them and it could still taste good!”

“Ah… your father,” her eyes peered at him intently. “How is the old rascal?”

For some reason, the question didn’t surprise him. It seemed like the Dragons all knew quite a bit about himself and AsaHi. Not to mention that Father had always talked about his time and adventures with the Dragons when he had been younger.

Maybe she’s an old friend of Father’s that I’ve seen visiting once? Like Kudako used to from time to time?

“He’s doing pretty good, I suppose. Considering everything that’s been going on lately,” SoYa answered, remembering to swallow before attempting to speak. “I hope we’re not going to worry him when he finds we’re missing.”

“I wouldn’t be concerned about that,” the Lady Dragon told him. “I believe Islay was sent to relay the message that you were brought safely here.”

“That’s good to know,” the Apprentice gave a sigh of relief. It had really been bothering him that they hadn’t had a chance to inform Father of what had really happened at the campsite.

Espcially since I know he’s under enough pressure with trying to find help for Tsu. I would have liked to have helped but… I suppose in the end, I would have only gotten in the way.

“And what of your brother?” KaiShi inquired, offering him another roll.

“Tsu? Well he’s doing f–” SoYa froze, caught up in the Lady Dragon’s gaze.

He had almost said “fine”. Almost. But something about the way she was watching him made him second-guess offering her the easy, fictitious answer.

Tsu wasn’t fine. And that was the thing that scared SoYa the most.

The silence fell around his shoulders. Awkward. It was pretty obvious to them both that he had almost lied to her. And he wondered if he had not just lost a lot of respect in her eyes because of it.

When KaiShi finally spoke again, it was in a kindly, supportive tone. “I know your brother has fallen ill. I know he’s being taken care of in Ceiswyr while you and your father have been looking for a way to help him.”

SoYa let out a deep breath, “Lord Zemi probably told you?”

“Considering I’m supposed to be some sort of leader around here, I need to keep on top of things?”

“Yes, of course…” he couldn’t look her in the eye.

“Sometimes untruths are spoken… not to harm… but because there’s a deep, unconscious desire to make that hope come true,” her musical voice was soothing. Not angry. Not even disappointed.

As if she somehow understood.

“You must love your brother very much,” KaiShi said.

“I do..!” SoYa heard his voice crack slightly. He peered up, almost childlike, pain scrawled across his face. “I’m so scared that we’re going to lose him…”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because I saw…” the Apprentice’s words faded on his tongue. The image that had haunted his memory since the trip through the Passage rose once again to his mind. So far, he had not spoken to anyone about it.

I couldn’t have told Father… he would have been upset by it. And if I told Kudako, Father would have heard from him. And AsaHi… she’s got enough to think about just dealing with me. But…

SoYa’s gaze fell on the Lady Dragon where she sat, hands folded in her lap, face warm and inviting. There was concern in her eyes, he could sense it. Concern and true sympathy for himself and his family. Something about her forthright honesty and that faint tickle of distant familiarity made him want to believe in her.

AsaHi did say that she was the one that nursed me while I was sick. And she’s brought meals for us. And clothes… And she’s kept our chambers comfortable…

He drew in a deep breath, green eyes focusing on the Lady Dragon. Very slowly, he started at the beginning, telling about AsaHi’s adventure to the Host Gate… and about all the things that started to happen in Nefol. About the darkness that had taken Tsu… and how everyone in the School found out about the Athrylith…

Once SoYa had begun to speak, he found it easier and easier to do so. KaiShi was a quiet and dedicated listener, her face mirroring just the right responses, offering just the right encouragement. And though the story was deep and involved, the Apprentice found himself finally detailing the encounter in the Passage… and the fear that was welling in his heart for what he had seen.

Then, he fell silent, having nothing more to say. All the words had drained out of him, leaving him feeling strangely tired, as if he had just run a very long distance. But there was another feeling there too. One of peaceful release.

“SoYa…” KaiShi said, voice full of gentle lament. One hand trailed up, touching his cheek gently, the prints of her fingers tingling. “I’m sorry to see that you bear such a heavy burden. There’s so much that you try to do on your own, but there’s only a certain amount that any one person can manage.”

“But… I’ve been no good,” SoYa shook his head. “See, even now… I’m here, whining to you about what I saw and not doing a thing to help Father find a cure for Tsu.”

“There are other ways of helping, SoYa. Even if they are indirect,” she replied.

“Like what?”

“Your vision, for instance. I do not think it was a mere illusion of the mind that should be dismissed,” KaiShi pursed her lips.

“What do you mean?”

“Athrylith don’t have visions without a purpose,” she told him. “Not even induced visions like this should be overlooked. Not with the detail you described seeing. I believe it’s something important, SoYa. And I think we need to tell Zemi.”

“Really?” he swallowed. “You don’t think it means that we’re too late, do you?”

“Truthfully, I can’t tell you what it means,” her violet eyes met his. “But I feel it’s very important that we bring this to someone who might be able to find out.”

SoYa looked down at his feet thoughtfully. Then he blinked up. “Maybe you’re right. We should tell Lord Zemi…”

“You mean, you should tell him.”

“What?”

“This is your mind illusion, after all. Not mine,” she pointed out.

SoYa swallowed deeply, shakey at the thought of approaching the Dreigiau alone. “Will you… come with me, at the least?”

KaiShi peered at the Apprentice for a moment. Then she nodded gently, “Of course.”

Jerking back, AsaHi gave a little cry of alarm.

It had become an everyday habit for AsaHi – an early afternoon walk with Zemi.

Sometimes he would take her through the deep caverns of the expanses of Wyndor. Other times, he’d introduce her to the tall mountain ranges and the sparkling waterfalls. For days they planned to picnic, they would hike down into the valley below.

Something about it invigorated her. Reminded her of simpler times when she would travel across the wilderness around Nefol. It reminded her of happier childhood days and the walks that she would sometimes take with SoYa – only when he wasn’t too busy dealing with the School.

Sometimes AsaHi would tell these things to Zemi. Sometimes she would talk about herself and the short-lived time of her past.

But most of the time he would talk… because she always had a million questions waiting just around in the corners of her mind. It was much to her surprise that the Dreigiau would speak quite freely to her, even of things that were far beyond her comprehension.

She loved it most when Zemi would talk about their world and the Earthians from his perspective — everything took on a magical hue as he described them. There was always something within his voice, something within the words that he chose… AsaHi knew, without a doubt, the Arweinydd held overwhelming compassion for her people.

Today she sat waiting for Zemi outside on the Ledge — a rock shelf that hung out over the face of the mountain. It was a small area in comparison to some of the rooms that burrowed deep into the heart of the mountain, only about three Dragon spans wide. In the past, AsaHi had seen the Dragons using the Ledge as a place to take off into flight.

I wonder why Zemi wants to meet me here.

Compared to the rest of Wyndor, the Ledge had very little to offer in the way of beauty. It was a flat, white table of stone. To one side, a single Dragon-sized arch opened back into the face of the mountain. She could just make out the dim winding hall that eventually connected to the Great Chamber. To the other side, there was nothing but the spread of blue sky and the whistle of the wind.

He’s always up to something strange.

She gazed at the arched doorway with a little sigh. Zemi was late.

I suppose I’ll just have to wait and see.

Settling down on a small rock outcropping, she stared up at the passing cloud fringe. Just as she was allowing her mind to drift off into daydream, a tremendous sound shattered the peace of the quiet afternoon.

“Surprise!”

A large white Dragon head suddenly thrust from the arched doorway. Great fangs gleamed as the lips peeled back, the maw opening wide… in what appeared to be a Dragon’s laugh. The voice that came from the beast was Zemi’s, though a bit larger and more gritty in sound.

Jerking back, AsaHi gave a little cry of alarm. It took a moment before the situation registered on her. Then all she could do was shake her head, “Z-Zemi!?”

“That’s right!” Big Dragony smile again. “Are you surprised?”

“Surprised… is not the word for it…” AsaHi let out a long, deep breath.

“Did I scare you? I didn’t mean to,” the great head lowered, chin plopping on the ground. Like an enormous puppy-dog. The large teal-flecked eyes watched her, strangely expressive for being so animal like.

“Just startled,” she told him, getting slowly to her feet.

Until that moment, AsaHi had only seen Zemi’s Dragon form from afar. Except for the one time in the Host Gate, though that had only been a hazy illusion.

Still, there’s something about him that is completely Zemi-ish, even as a Dragon.

The white Dragon seemed to be physically built very much like the others. Though his mane was wild and unkempt, falling across his forehead in mischievous clumps, his form was sleek and strongly made. Despite the overwhelming feeling of power that he bore, his manner remained playful and openly friendly.

Even as a Dragon, it’s hard not to like him.

“Disappointing,” AsaHi teased, crossing her arms and pushing her own feelings out of the picture.

“Whaaaaat?” Zemi’s ears perked, tail lashing playfully. “I know you’re not talking about me! I’m the finest Dragon around!”

“I was told that you were supposed to be absolutely gigantic as a Dragon,” the girl grimaced at him, spreading her hands to accent the words.

“I can be?” Zemi told her.

“You aren’t now,” she pointed out.

“That’s because I don’t need to be,” he gave a snort. “My form isn’t limited in dimension, thus I can choose how I want to appear. Sometimes it’s good to be a small Dragon. Sometimes it’s good to be a big Dragon. Today, I’m somewhere in between.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because we’re going flying!” Big fangy Dragon grin, again.

“Flying?” AsaHi stared at him, caught up in the sudden adventure of it all.

“Brunswik told me you didn’t have any flying experience before this. Which is a real shame. You’d make a fantastic Dragon rider,” he encouraged brightly.

“Why do you say that?”

“Just because I know you will,” Zemi answered. Then added as an afterthought, “You and Dragons get along. You know that, right?”

“Yeah…” the girl peered up at him quietly.

No one had ever spoken it aloud before. But somehow, she did know it. There was something unusual between her and the Dragons. She had felt it for the very first time when she had met the Dragons on the Cleft. But she hadn’t known why she felt that way.

“So it would do you some good to know how to ride, don’t you think?”

“I guess so?” AsaHi answered after a moment of thought.

“Or do you not want to learn?” Zemi asked, sensing her hesitance.

“Yes, yes, of course I do!” she covered her tracks quickly. She really was very interested. Not everyone was offered the chance to learn how to ride a Dragon in their lifetime, after all.

“Well, then, what are you waiting for? Hop on,” he grinned at her.

AsaHi walked forward slowly, running her tongue over her lips. The closer she came, the bigger Zemi seemed to loom. Even though he was sprawled haphazardly, harmlessly there on the stone floor. Even though he claimed to merely be a medium-sized Dragon.

I’d hate to see what he considers to be large…

The girl squinted, trying to figure out how to make her way to the great ridge of the Dreigiau’s back – it was a startlingly long way up. AsaHi reached out and gingerly braced her palms against the crook of one of Zemi’s forelegs. But feeling the warmth of living Dragon under her fingers, she couldn’t bring herself to climb, thinking about the pain of boot scrapes along his skin.

“AsaHi,” Zemi tilted his head back at her, face strangely endearing and amused. “Let’s start on page one, shall we?”

“Okay…?” she answered, not knowing what page one was about.

“I’m a big, growly, nasty, thick-skinned beast,” he grinned brightly. “If you step on me, it’s not gonna hurt. And besides that, I’m Arweinydd. You can’t hurt Arweinydd. So just relax and climb up. Okay?”

“Okay…” AsaHi drew a deep breath, then began to scrabble up the side of Zemi’s shoulder on her hands and knees. She quickly found that catching the hinge where the wing met the shoulder blade was an excellent place to hoist herself up. So she did.

For a moment, she was suspended, stomach balanced on the crest of the Dreigiau’s back. Her head was tilted down the other side. Her feet still dangled, pushing from behind. Struggling to grab hold of the thick white mane, the girl managed to gather herself up into a mounted position.

Finally, AsaHi lay sprawled there, a little spot of tension on the Dreigiau’s wide shoulders. Her hands were shaking slightly.

“There you go,” Zemi said. “Now just relax… calm your mind and let it all go.”

His voice rumbled, the vibration rippling under her and up through her entire body. She could feel the welling of great, deep breaths and the vast thrumming of his heart. Then every little motion, every shift in balance, became one with her own.

Within that moment, AsaHi felt more connected to the Dreigiau than she had ever been to anything else in all her time.

“Ah… now you see… you’re beginning to find it,” he murmured.

His voice did not need to be loud for her to hear it. Perhaps Zemi didn’t even need to speak. The connection between them was so gripping, she wondered if she might even begin to sense his thoughts.

“It has been waiting for the right time, AsaHi. It has been there inside you all along,” the sound was now within her ears. She couldn’t tell if it was a real voice at all. “It just needs a certain situation to waken it.”

“Waken what?” she ventured. Her words were groggy and distant to her ears.

This feeling, he means. But what is it… how do I know about…?

AsaHi simply knew – it was as if she had been riding Dragon-back her whole life. Her hands gripped the mane firmly, her knees knew the balance, her body moved easily with the Dreigiau as he rose and stretched his wings wide.

As if her mind was opening, releasing secret things. Things that had always existed but had never spoken to her before.

“You share a special bond with Dragon-kin. It is known as Drei’distau,” Zemi answered as his great wings began to sweep back. Very smoothly, he lifted up from the ground, rising gently towards the brilliant sky.

AsaHi watched the world shrink away beneath them. There was no fear. There was no worry. There was only herself and the Dreigiau… and the glory of Dragon flight shared between them.

The scent of clear air mingled with the warm fragrance of the Dreigiau. His sweeping white mane blurred through her vision, shifting across the deep azure skies. It only took a moment before they had risen above the pillared peaks of the clouds. Then they were hidden away in their own private realm, far above the vibrant curve of the earth.

Neither of them spoke. Neither of them had to. Motion of Dragon and motion of girl were one and the same. They were locked into a single thought. Feeling with the same heart.

As the emotion rushed through her, the vast realization rang through. It came, both terrible and wonderful at the same time, leaving a mark of numbness imprinted upon AsaHi’s mind.

I have feelings for Zemi.

"I thought I didn’t have any magic,” AsaHi told him, hands bunching up the front of her tunic.

AsaHi’s mind had unfolded for Zemi like a map. A map to vastly extraordinary things.

Her abilities were so easily unlocked due to all of the time AsaHi had spent with the Dragons in Wyndor. That had been the chief reason that Zemi had sent his Servants to bring the girl to stay the realm to begin with. Enough exposure to the Dragons would have eventually triggered something. It had been obvious to them all that she had been right on the edge of finding it for herself.

Now that Drei’distau had finally been revealed, the Arweinydd sat expectantly next to AsaHi by the flower-shrouded pool. AsaHi’s excitement of the discovery seemed to have faded upon their landing. Strangely enough, a mixture of quiet apprehension and anxiety had replaced it.

The look upon AsaHi’s face had been deeply troubled when Zemi had return to his Earthian form. Her replies to his prompts were shaky and she seemed to almost refuse to meet his gaze. This brought a wave trepidation washing over the confused Dreigiau.

Zemi couldn’t understand this strange reaction. After all, AsaHi seemed to have taken the news of Drei’distau so well — if only everyone woke so easily to their calling. He figured that the cause of her apprehension couldn’t have solely come from the revealing of her innate abilities.

Still, it was obvious that there was something bothering her… something more going on behind the light of her eyes. After floundering together in an uncharacteristic puddle of awkward silence, Zemi decided it was time to unravel the source of the unfathomable feminine mystery.

“What’s wrong? Did you think my landing was off?” Zemi gave an easy, fangy grin. Tilting his head forward, he peered into the girl’s down-turned face, trying to snag some of her attention for himself.

“What?” AsaHi seemed a little surprised at the abruptness of his question.

“I’ll have you know it was a perfect 10 point 0! Never less than the best from this Dragon, yes-no?” he thumbed back at his chest, turning up the charm now that he had finally managed to get her to look at him.

“Ah… sure..?”

“You don’t sound so sure?” he prodded playfully. But all his efforts to lighten the mood seemed to be about as futile as the flight of a dust mote upon a beam of sunlight. So he changed his approach. “I bet I surprised you real good, eh?”

Perhaps that was the trouble, Zemi mused. Perhaps she was recovering from surprise. After all, it seemed that sometimes Earthians didn’t always emotionally react to a situation until the aftermath.

“Surprised..?” she blinked over at him. Again, rewarding him with eye contact.

“About Drei’distau?” he grinned encouragingly. If there was anything that captured AsaHi’s interest, it was the search for knowledge.

She gave a watery laugh. It was weak… but it was a start. “I don’t think ‘surprise’ quite covers the whole of it, Zemi.”

“Is it such a bad thing?” the Dreigiau inquired, baiting up the topic.

“N-no. Not at all. It’s just… I thought I didn’t have any magic,” AsaHi told him, hands bunching up the front of her tunic.

“It’s not exactly what I’d call magic,” Zemi replied, picking his words carefully. “Not in the sense of the word as you know it. Drei’distau is something more… deeply innate.”

“What do you mean?” the girl’s hands dropped from her tunic as she peered at him. Her usual steadfast curiosity was trickling down to overcome the troubled expression on her face.

“Well, for starters, it’s not so much a skill that you command. Not like tossing around a fireball or turning something invisible,” the Dreigiau scratched at his chin. “It’s more like… part of what you are. Part of your nature. Part of your existence.”

“Isn’t magic part of a person’s nature, too?” AsaHi asked.

“Somewhat, but in a different way. Magical ability is a talent, a special sensitivity to the world’s forces,” Zemi spread one hand, grasping for a way to bring his point home. “But the Drei’distau is something that is inherently a part of your being. Something you were born to become. You could no more avoid being Drei’distau than you could change the color of your eyes.”

“So you’re saying this would have happened no matter what? Even if I had never met the Dragons?” she asked, slowly becoming more and more engrossed in the conversation. Loosening up as the words began to flow between them.

“You would have met the Dragons,” he told her resolutely. “You would have sought them out eventually. You may not have understood why. But you would have been called to do so. Why do you think you were so drawn to the Host Gate?”

“Because I thought that the whole Zemi Dreigiau thing was just a big pack of silly stories?” AsaHi answered. Then with a sense of someone taking the first steps into the vast unknown, she gave a nervous grin.

Zemi was taken off guard for a moment. Then he grinned in return, fangs showing at the corners of his mouth. “I sure fooled you?”

“If that’s what you want to believe.” Slowly, the final strands of tension seemed to be draining from her limbs, leaving behind something else. When AsaHi leaned back, there was a mysterious look on her face.

“Heh… well…” Something about the look was intriguing. And strangely delightful. But Zemi couldn’t figure out why such thoughts should cross his mind when there were other, more pressing issues to be thinking about.

He knew that Drei’distau had done more than just brought AsaHi a new understanding. It had created a new-found balance between the Arweinydd and Earthian realms of their world, a sense of semi-equality that he now offered to share with the girl. For Zemi knew it was only through the power of AsaHi’s compassion that he would be saved from the Chaos.

The Chaos was something he had decided not to tell AsaHi about. Not just yet. Some things were far too complicated for him to explain this early into the game. Besides, the girl always found the hard questions to ask even without his encouragement.

Eventually he knew he would have to tell her about the forces that fought for control of his soul. And how it was only by the solace of her presence that his heart had been soothed. How he was fortunate to have been bound to the physical laws that drove the Dragon-kin when he had chosen to take on a Dragon form… for otherwise, even the Drei’distau may not have worked.

And then Zemi Dreigiau would have been lost. Devoured by the Chaos.

But none of this she needed to know. Not right now.

The only thing that mattered was that she remained nearby. That she belonged to him as Drei’distau.

“Brunswik told me that the Dragons had once been people,” she spoke suddenly. It wasn’t a question. But it held the hints of one.

One of those hard questions — AsaHi never gave up seeking for the highest truth.

“That’s right,” Zemi nodded, giving a half-answer in trying to skirt the issue.

“But they don’t have a people form? Like Kudako?”

“No,” he buckled a little, “Only Kudako and KaiShi have an Earthian form. The rest of them are pure Dragons.”

“But how can they be pure Dragons if they were once people? What… did you do to them, Zemi?” her eyes focused on him with new intensity.

He winced thinking that perhaps his efforts to get AsaHi to loosen up had worked a little too well. There was no getting out of answering this one. So he went for the charm.

The Dreigiau stretched his hands out in front of the girl, cupping palms together as a soft blue-white light began to grow between them. In a gentle sweep of rainbow colors, tiny glowing images of Dragon-illusions took flight towards the sky.

The distracted expression of delight on AsaHi’s face was just what he was hoping for. Transfixed, she watched the tiny illusions wing away and vanish into the blue.

She was one of the few people that loved Dragons as much as he did. That in itself had been enough to connect them from the beginning.

“The real Dragons of your world… actually died out a very long time ago,” Zemi’s voice was heavy-hearted.

AsaHi’s head jerked up with a look of surprise. “They did? I didn’t know that!”

“Yes. I’m not sure what caused the weakening and eventual death of the Dragons as a whole. There were only a few left even when I first came to visit your world,” the Arweinydd peered at her with a somber face. “I did manage to have the time to study and associate with them before they vanished. They were the first type of creatures that I had any real contact with here. I was stricken by their raw magnificence…”

“So you decided to make yourself like them?” she asked. She reached down and idly plucked a small red flower, pinching the stem and pulling it away.

“Yes,” Zemi answered slowly. The illusion of rainbow Dragons began to fade away. “It was before the rise of the Earthian peoples. I thought it was a terrible shame that the Dragons should vanish from this world. So I decided to construct my first form in replication of the creatures. Thereafter, I also chose to make my Servants in the forms of Dragons as well.”

“But they were people first?” she went back to her original question. Not detoured for long.

“That’s right,” he sought to find the easiest way to explain it. “But they decided to become my Servants. So I gave them the form of a Dragon.”

“They decided?” AsaHi tilted her head, picking a second flower, a white one. She began to weave the stems of the two flowers together between her fingers as she listened.

“Yes. I could not make such a vast, permanent transformation without their permission. They had to be willing to make the change.”

AsaHi seemed to mull over that for a little while, plucking more flowers and adding them to the little chain. White and red, alternating. The silence was unnerving. He knew the longer she remained silent the more questions would come.

“They just decide to leave their life behind… and become Dragon Servants? I think that would be rather… awkward…”

“Not if that person was at their final moment of life,” Zemi’s sharp eyes turned towards the girl. Now they were getting into rocky territory.

“What do you mean?” she asked, one white flower in her hand as she paused to look at him.

“Each Servant was once a person who lived a full life and then passed from this world for one reason or another. In that last moment, I came and offered them a chance to carry on,” the Dreigiau spoke slowly. “In life, each had some special spark in them… something that I knew could bring light to this world if nurtured in the right way. I offered them a choice — a new form and a new life. So far, I’ve never been turned down.”

“But they knew they’d become…”

“A Dragon?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t hide it from them,” Zemi shrugged. “And the Dragons here, they don’t seem all that unhappy after making that choice, do they?”

“No…” she was thinking again. “No, I guess not.”

There was silence for a moment. Unease.

Zemi surprised himself when he asked, voice full of uncharacteristic meekness, “You think it is wrong of me to do these things… even with their permission?”

“I don’t know,” AsaHi answered, truthfully. “I suppose it depends… you don’t make people Dragons simply because you want more Servants, do you?”

“No. Otherwise, what would stop me from having many hundreds of Servants around here?” he chuckled at the thought. Then his face grew strangely compassionate. “I choose the people who are to become my Dragons for special reasons. Often there will be things that were left unsettled in their former lives… that I wish to offer them a chance to complete.”

“Like Kudako?” She wove a red flower into the chain.

“Exactly!” Zemi smiled, cheered at her keen observation. “In his previous life, Kudako died as a miserable, defeated creature that had never been given a chance to live a life with feeling or emotion. He was used for terrible things by the Spiral, transformed into an Annihilator…”

“Though what is the difference between him being used by the Spiral and being your Servant?”

His eyes lowered as he gave a great sigh, “AsaHi… I care about Kudako. He may carry out my orders, but I don’t use him like they did. I try to give him missions that will help break the chains of his past.”

“Like?”

Zemi chuckled lightly. “Oh, you should have seen him when he was first assigned to be Zento’s teacher.”

“Did Kudako not like Zento?” the girl finally connected the two ends of the flower chain, making a loop.

“Well, it’s not that. Just, Kudako thought he was going to train this great, talented young warrior,” the Dreigiau smirked at the memory of it. “Young was right. Zento was merely a child when he and Kudako met. And I’ll have to say that raising Zento and Sara from a young age did a lot to soften old ‘Dako up. It really was a good experience for him – even if he didn’t appreciate it at first.”

“Really? Kudako raised them from children? That’s hard to imagine,” AsaHi was now grinning, too. It was quite the sight to see. “There was actually a time when Kudako was more stern than he is now?”

“You have no idea,” Zemi smirked even more. “So… you think you can trust me to run these Dragon affairs? I might just have an idea of what I’m doing every now and then, yes-no?”

She looked up into his face, then down at the finished ring of flowers in her hands. Seeming not to know what else to do with it, she placed the ring of flowers on his brow. A crown of red and white upon the wild mane of hair. Her words were slightly teasing, “Do we really have much of a choice, Lord Zemi Dreigiau?”

“That just depends,” Zemi laughed warmly in return, lifting his head with the delight of his newly acquired adornment.

That was when he caught the distant form of KaiShi standing in one of the doorways, watching them. There was a stern look of disapproval on her face as she turned and walked back the other way.