“Don’t you ever let anyone else define who you are. They’ll always tell you wrong.”

“Truth or dare?” JouKa prodded him.

“This again?” TsuYa grumbled, eyeing her from where he sat, back leaning against the base of smooth white building. The afternoon sun was growing warmer as summer came on. Not so warm as to be uncomfortable, but warm enough that they had begun to prefer sitting in the shade of the compounds and the swaying trees.

“Truth or dare?” she repeated firmly, eyes glinting in challenge.

Those had been the first words that JouKa had spoken to him after the incident under the tree. The incident that had nearly given everything away… when she had seen first-hand the grey spot of skin that turned TsuYa’s dark dreams into waking nightmares.

All of his fears did not come to pass, however. JouKa must have kept the situation to herself because no one had approached him about what she had seen. She could have told… but she didn’t. And it might have been for that reason that his level of toleration for the winged girl rose – if just a bit.

TsuYa had remained silent for many days after the incident. JouKa had given him his room… for a short while. But then on the third day, struck with boredom, she had intoned the fateful words: “Truth or dare?”

And so it had been for the past week or so. JouKa had figured out how to get a rise out of him — TsuYa could never back down from a challenge to his pride, especially not to a girl. Having nothing better to do when Suzume was napping or playing in the gardens, and knowing that they could get a few jabs in at each other, they volleyed rounds of truth or dare. They had both always chosen dare.

It started small. But soon enough, the dares got evil.

Stealing peoples’ clothes from the bath house and hanging it in the trees on the other side of the island. Releasing a hundred squeak bugs inside the sleeping quarters of one of the compounds. Raw eggs under pillows of unsuspecting individuals. Freezing glasses to the trays in the dining hall. Gluing a random shiny object (usually a coin) to the connecting island bridgeways to see how many people stopped to try and pick it up.

The topper was when TsuYa put a large gathering of Rhawn droppings inside a package, lit it on fire, knocked at the door and ran, leaving it on the door step. To watch what happened when the random victim emerged from the room and tried to stamp the fire out… was simply priceless.

It was just a wonder that neither had been caught in the act so far. And somehow, the random pranks, as childish as they knew them to be, helped to alleviate some of the discontentment that they both seemed to share about being locked up in Ceiswyr.

Even though TsuYa wouldn’t admit to sharing anything with JouKa. It was bad enough that she had begun to come and hang out around him, even on days when they weren’t in charge of watching over Suzume.

Like today. Get rid of one, then the other comes. Can’t get any peace and quiet around here!

“Fine… fine…” he finally caved in with a grunt. He added, turning the tables, “But I get to ask first today.”

“Alright. Go fer it.”

“Truth or dare?” TsuYa gave a little smirk. He knew exactly what to expect. And he had the perfect prank in mind for her that afternoon… it had taken him the better part of the evening to think up something to rival the flaming pile of droppings.

Her expression was totally composed as she shot his plans down in the dust with a single word, “Truth.”

Is she serious? There’s gotta be a catch.

His mouth fell open as the statement struck him, unprepared. She seemed amused by his sudden turn of awkwardness, watching him carefully as he fished for a question to ask. Then it came to him. “Okay… what do you have against the people of Nefol?”

You opened yourself up for that one.

Her answer came quite frank, “They are the ones that spread the Bane through our lands.”

“The bane?”

“Ya know, that power they say they control.”

“You mean magic?” TsuYa furrowed a brow and wiggled his fingers unconsciously.

“Yah,” JouKa grimaced at him, turning her head away. “Magic. Bane. It’s the same thing.”

“Wait a sec, magic isn’t unnatural,” he disagreed. “If anything, it’s an innate force in this world…something that we all play a part of balancing. There’s nothing unnatural about something that’s already a part of our very essence.”

Boy… does she have her head on wrong. Where is she getting this stuff from?

The girl narrowed her eyes back at him. “And I’m sure you were fed that load of crock since you were born. Yer father just happens to be the one that brought the Bane into our world.”

“My father is a great man!” TsuYa stood up, biting his words sharply. Both hands spread wide, motioning to the Islands. “Without him, we’d all be living in those little hovel of Gatherings, scraping a crummy life out of the Upperlands! He brought our world the concept of society! He founded Nefol and the teachings there. He founded Ceiswyr and everything you see here! If it wasn’t for him, then–”

Getting to her feet, JouKa waved her hands in his face, looking impatient, “Yeah… yeah… I’ve ‘eard this story all before.”

TsuYa clamped his mouth shut with a huff of frustration. But he held on to his anger, if only to hear out the rest of her story. Curiosity gnawed at his insides – it was the first time he had ever heard an outsider to Nefol talk such a way.

“And fer yer information, I just ‘appen to ‘ave been raised in one of those little ‘ovel of a Gatherings,” she growled, jabbing a finger at his nose. “So afore a pampered brat like yerself says anything ‘bout my ‘crummy life’, ya better live it for a little while!”

He pursed his lips, bringing the conversation back to the topic of his interest, “Who in Light’s name is spreading all this ‘bane’ idiocy anyhow?”

“It’s what we were all taught as kids. The comin’ of the Bane and how it will lead to the shatterin’ of our world,” JouKa jutted her chin out.

“And you believe everything they tell you?” TsuYa snorted.

“Do you?” she challenged.

“Well, of course I do,” he leaned back with a casual hand on his hip. “Simply because everything taught at Nefol is true.”

“And ‘ow do you know that?”

“Because I’ve been there. I’ve lived in Nefol all my life! The School has been around for how long… and I haven’t seen a crack in the face of the earth for it yet,” his tone began to wear in patience.

“Isn’t the School jus’ somethin’ that follows yer father’s teachings?” she eyed him.

“The teachings that Lord Zemi has given to my father, yes.”

“And ‘ow is what yer father said to you ‘ave any better chance of bein’ real than what my father said to me?” her teeth were grinding.

“Because my father is far more educated and refined than any Gathering nomad could ever hope to be,” TsuYa smirked. Straight into her face.

JouKa’s hand twitched, held pinned against her side. As if she was fighting the slap that wanted so much to plant itself across his cheek.

Somewhat surprised that she had held back at all, TsuYa let his smirk fade. “You really believe in what they fed you, don’t you?”

There was a spark of uncertainty. She turned her head away so that he couldn’t see it. But it was too late.

“Truth,” he pressed. “The whole story about why you hate Nefol.”

“I already told you,” she avoided his eyes.

“There’s more than that,” he crossed his arms, dark eyes watching her reactions closely.

JouKa had begun to suck on her bottom lip, seemingly a nervous habit. Her voice was flat when she spoke again, “The people of my family believe in the Bane. The Gatherings we live in believe that our world will fall to darkness because people are dabblin’ in forces they ‘ave no right to be playin’ with. They want nothin’ to do with Neffies of any kind – they see people with magic as the ones that will destroy us all. And it ‘as already begun by the building of Nefol.”

Interesting.

TsuYa remained standing with his arms crossed, listening in silence. Much of this was new to him. He had known of the people who chose to live outside of Nefol and the city establishments. But he had never heard that these rustic tribes believed in anything so bizarre.

“So this is how you see it, then?” he leaned back, watching her reaction carefully. What he expected was a quick, biting affirmation. But it wasn’t exactly what he got.

“Me? Well, I…”

“You… what?” TsuYa pressed a bit, sensing that he was hitting somewhere close to home.

“I was born a magic user,” the words caught in her throat as she turned away from him. Words that held a sense of impending doom. Words that seemed to have rarely passed her lips, if ever.

Inadvertently, TsuYa pursed his lips, bringing his hand to his chin as the full impact of the situation dawned on him.

“My mum knew… she was the only one,” JouKa frowned at the sky. “She chose to protect me. Not tell anyone.”

“Why? What would they have done if they found out?” he asked.

“Killed me, no doubt,” the girl muttered, making it sound as if it had been the most obvious conclusion to draw.

“That’s… stupid!” TsuYa’s voice was incredulous and disgusted. He just stood there and shook his head. “Stupid…”

“Maybe to you,” JouKa met his eyes. “But to my people, it is the Bane. I am one marked to bring ‘bout the destruction of our world. If they can fight back at that fate, even by removing one source, they are gonna do it.”

“But, one of their own tribe?”

“Yeah, even one of their own,” she squinted, face flushed in pained. Her fists clutched the sides of her trousers.

TsuYa just shook his head again. He couldn’t find the words to express how preposterous the whole thing was.

Suddenly, JouKa’s expression cracked, her eyes fixing on the ground. It all came out in a rush of shivering breath – sorrow, fear and uncertainty that had marked her thoughts from the first day that her terrible truth had become understood to herself, “I never ‘urt noone. I’m a ‘ealer… I can cure sick people! Tell me ‘ow that is going about bringin’ the downfall of everythin’?”

His dark eyes peered over at the strange sound of her dismay, voice quiet and measured. Bordering on sympathetic. “It won’t.”

She covered her face with one hand, sucking in a small gasping breath. As if she realized how far her mask had slipped.

“They’re wrong,” he added. Words of experience that he had learned long ago – the truth about the people of the world around him. “Don’t you ever let anyone else define who you are. They’ll always tell you wrong.”

She simply stood there, unresponsive to his wisdom.

“Listen,” he urged further. Something about her emotion was too close… to close to his own anger. “You’ve got two eyes to see with. Use them. Judge things for yourself because you’re the only one that you can really trust in this world. See yourself for who you really are — not for who they want you to see.”

When JouKa peered back up at him, her eyes were misty. Her voice fought for strength, “Well, now the Neffie knows a pretty string o’ poetry. The sky might jus’ fall afterall.”

TsuYa fell silent with a grimace.

So much for trying to be helpful.

“I better go see what I kin do to ‘elp with lunch,” the girl began to walk away. Her steps were shaky, almost hurried. As if she needed to put as much distance between herself and the person who had seen behind her mask, though it had only been a peek.

“Yeah,” TsuYa said and watched her go. Leaning against the wall of the compound, he muttered to himself, “You’re welcome…”

“You’ve got to eat! You’ve got to drink!

“He’s not responding to anything,” AsaHi’s worried eyes lifted as SoYa entered the room. “What do we do?”

“Still?” the Apprentice frowned, setting a tray down on the stone wall-table. He brought in a small bowl, the scent of warm herbal soup rising with the shifting of steam. And a pitcher of drink. Not as if the first drink had even been touched yet.

“What do we do?” the girl repeated, turning to peer at the bed where the strange man lay. Simply laying, nothing more. And so he had been for days.

As soon as they had arrived in Wyndor, Zento and Zemi had brought the sandy-haired stranger to one of the side chambers and placed him in bed. AsaHi had been charged by Zemi to watch over the man. And she had quickly agreed, stationing herself loyally at the stranger’s bedside as he slept. At least, she thought he was sleeping – though the manner in which he lay was wrapped in motionless that seemed almost ethereal.

Ever since he woke up, he had not spoken. Like one that did not understand the language, his face showed no change, no matter what she said to him. He simply watched her with calm, hooded eyes of gold.

Golden eyes. The mark of Zemi’s Servants.

Over time, his silence began to seem more defensive than offensive. There was a sense that one got when looking at the man that gave the impression of someone misplaced, one taken from a proper abode and forced into a place totally unfamiliar and new. Maybe it was for this reason that it had been days since the man had accepted food or drink. AsaHi wasn’t certain as to his intentions… but she had begun to feel increasingly frantic.

Searching for Zemi yielded no finds. He seemed nowhere within all of Wyndor.

Figures… Just when we really need him, he vanishes!

SoYa’s abilities had come back without results. As much as he said he hated prying, the Apprentice had already tried to “read into” the stranger’s mind, hoping to find some way of helping the situation. Afterwards, he had told AsaHi that there had been a mind block there – something he described as a mental wall that even he could not reach beyond.

And so they had been left to find normal conventions of tending to the stranger.

“Please, Mr. Aur…” AsaHi said to him, using the name that she was told that he went by. She held a cup to his lips, “Just drink a little something. You’ve got to be thirsty? It’s only water.”

Normally, liquid in the mouth would cause a person to swallow. And yet, no normal response came. The water simply trickled away, a little stream down his chin, which she caught with a towel while fighting with frustrated defeat.

“Why won’t you drink?” she implored, as she had done over and over and over. “Do you think we’re trying to poison you or something?”

The golden eyes simply watched her, unmoved.

SoYa had strayed to the other side of the room, pulling the curtains closed to block the glaring of the late afternoon sun. Experience told him to keep a safe distance from the heat of the girl’s ire.

“You’ve got to eat! You’ve got to drink! You’ve gone without either!” AsaHi demanded. Over the long afternoon, her patience had been chipped away slowly while a pounding headache had begun to throb in the back of her head. “I don’t know if you’re sitting here trying to kill yourself, but you’re under my care and I’m not going to let you waste away!”

“AsaHi…” SoYa coaxed, looking taken aback by the fire in the girl’s voice.

“No,” she retorted sharply. Then she fell silent, the silence before the storm. When her voice returned, it left no room for bargaining, “SoYa, come over here and hold him for me!”

“What?” he stared with a round-eyed expression. “What are you going to do?”

If he won’t drink it by choice, I’ll make him drink it!

“Help me!” the girl ordered. That no-nonsense voice.

Even the Athrylith knew better than to challenge the no-nonsense voice. With an apologetic look, he came around to the other side of the bed. He placed his hands firmly against the stranger’s shoulders, holding him back against the upright pillows. Though the golden eyes flickered to observe SoYa for a moment, the man did not attempt to fight against the hold.

Quickly, AsaHi grabbed the man’s nose and held it in a pinch, forcing his mouth open. He gave a slightly startled sound, responding for the first time yet, pulling his head back. But the girl had him firmly, fingers on the nose, cup at his lips, using his recoil as a means of tilting his head back further. Aur’s exclamation turned into a gurgle as the water filled his mouth. Then he started to cough, water spilling out over AsaHi’s hand.

Undaunted, she clamped his mouth shut, fingers forcing his chin up, “Swallow it! Come on… swallow it!”

He struggled, hands reflexively clutching up at his throat. His expression was blank, as if lost as to what she wanted him to do. Then, as his reflexes suddenly kicked in, he swallowed. A dry, painful swallow. Like someone swallowing for the first time.

AsaHi released his nose as he doubled over, still coughing. SoYa supported him on one side. The girl attempted to hold him on the other, her face flushing with sudden guilt.

Maybe I shouldn’t have done that…

“What’s going on here?” a concerned voice rang through the room from the doorway.

She looked up into the strained expression of ZenToYa.

“He… he wouldn’t drink… or eat… or anything!” AsaHi attempted to explain. “He hasn’t since he’s gotten here. I’m trying to take care of him, but how am I supposed to do that when he won’t even take some water?”

Zento’s mouth opened in surprise, “What did you do?”

“I… forced him to drink it?” she admitted meekly. Wondering at the severity of the winged man’s reaction.

“Forced him?” the warrior echoed, face paling.

“Father,” SoYa interjected, “He won’t respond to anything we’ve tried to do for him…”

“Of course not,” Zento let out a long breath, eyes never leaving the stranger’s face. “He doesn’t know how to.”

AsaHi, too, stared at the man. “What do you mean?”

“He’s never eaten nor drank before — I don’t think he’s ever needed to,” the winged man was picking his words carefully. “He’s never had a physical body to maintain before.”

“Uh…?” SoYa’s face was blank.

“This is Aur,” Zento explained. “He is the creature that came from the Time Before… you know, the one that lived in the center of the Spiral? The Golden Lion?”

“WHAT?” AsaHi jerked back, pulling her hands away from him. Fearful that he might blast her away for her insolence, right there.

“Hedd-ynad!” SoYa’s voice echoed her shock. “How can that be?”

“Zemi gave him this new form… because… well…” the warrior sighed. “It’s a long story.”

WHAT did I just do? Forced a glass of water down the throat of a being that came from an Age of the Time Before!

“I… I.. didn’t know!” the girl hiccupped, eyes wide as she shrank back away from the creature.

Any moment now…

Having finally recovered, Aur’s hooded eyes fell upon her again. No sense of malice came from the gaze. Just a steady, silent observation.

“I’m sorry!” she told him, voice tremulous.

She knew why she was afraid. This was nothing like facing Zemi. Even the Dreigiau had more of a feel of humanity about him than this creature did. Zemi could laugh, could show anger, could show pain.

This creature showed nothing. As if emotion was as inaccessible to him as his vast knowledge of the cosmos would be to her.

“The girl’s right, Aur,” Zento seemed to be sticking up for her. But at the same time, his concern for the sandy-haired man was evident, “This is a game you’ve never played before. In an Earthian body, you’ve gotta do certain things to sustain your form. She was only trying to help.”

AsaHi nodded, quickly. Repeatedly. Frightened. Again she apologized, “I’m sorry!”

The golden eyes closed, slowly. Heavily. When they opened again, they focused squarely on the girl’s face. She could see the reflection of her apprehension from their metallic depths.

“I understand,” Aur spoke, for the very first time. His voice was solid and deep in a rich way, the distant sound of thundering waves upon the seashore.

The girl’s breath caught in her throat. “You… do..?”

“Do not fear,” he replied in almost a resigned manner. If he even knew what passiveness was. “I wish no harm against you… or anyone else.”

SoYa was staring, wide-eyed and uncertain. “You’re a Servant of Lord Zemi, now? But if you were the Golden Lion, then… how did…?”

Aur fell silent. Unresponsive again.

“Zento,” AsaHi pulled her gaze away from Aur. “What happened?”

The winged man simply motioned for them to follow him. When they did, he led them out to the hallway a few paces away from the door. His face seemed troubled.

“I don’t know how Zemi did it,” were his first words. Obviously this was something he had been thinking about. “He made me leave the Keep after I broke the wards. All I know was… when I first saw Aur, he was something that resembled a small golden light. And now…”

“He’s a person?” AsaHi finished for him. “And a Servant to Zemi? Does Zemi really have so much power to do something like this? And why would he want to make Aur a Servant?”

“One question at a time, Sweetie,” Zento lifted his hands, wincing. “I don’t know everything, obviously. But I can confirm that Aur was very weak when I saw him. Zemi told me that he didn’t have much longer to remain. I suppose in essence, Aur was dying. And Zemi said that he wanted to preserve him, to help him… to link to him. Whatever that meant.”

“It’s like the Dragons,” AsaHi heard herself say. Not sure of how she made the connection. But there it was.

“What do you mean?” SoYa turned to her.

“Zemi told me about the way he makes the Dragons,” the girl tried to explain. “That he will come to a person right upon the brink of their passing… and offer to give them a second chance at life. He makes a Dragon form for them… and they become his Servant. Wouldn’t that be sustaining their lives in the same way as he’s doing for Aur? A linking?”

“Possibly…” Zento mused.

“Aur… doesn’t seem very happy…” AsaHi said quietly.

“He seems to believe Zemi is up to no good in our world,” Zento frowned, scratching his chin. “I’m not sure exactly what all he’s seen in his time… But no, I don’t think he’s too happy to think that he’s here under Zemi’s hand. I think he would have rather wasted away.”

“Really? It’s that bad?” the girl asked, face growing sad.

He sighed, “I plan on talking to Aur once he’s a little more settled. I hope in time we might be able to bring him around. He doesn’t seem like a bad fellow… just… he’s probably the furthest thing from our kind as it gets. It’s not gonna be easy for him to adjust to this.”

“So, now he’s… Earthian, just like we are?” SoYa asked.

“As far as I know, yes,” Zento’s eyes glinted as he peered at AsaHi. “So try not to drown him, okay?”

AsaHi flushed.

“It’s alright,” the warrior gave a soft grin, clapping one hand on her shoulder. “Just keep in mind he’s gonna need all the help he can get right now.”

She nodded, “I’ll do what I can…”

“I know. That’s why Zemi left him to your care.”

AsaHi blinked at this statement, taken aback.

“Anyhow, I’ve got a few errands to run,” Zento told them. “You think you can hold the fort down for a little while longer? I’ll try to be back as soon as I can. And I’m sure Zemi will be coming around, too.”

“What… should we do?” SoYa gave a concerned face.

“The best thing to do is simply… show him what our people are really like. What life is about,” he shrugged, turning on his heel.

That’s hard enough to do for myself…

AsaHi took a deep breath as she watched the winged man disappear around the far corner.

But we owe it to Aur to try.

“Come on,” the girl looked to SoYa. “Let’s see if we can get him eating. Maybe if he finds out food tastes good, it won’t be so hard?”

“I hope not,” the Apprentice didn’t look convinced. He quietly followed her back into the room.

He propped himself against her tail, letting out a long breath.

“Alright, how’s that feel for you?” ZenToYa asked as the blue healing glow faded from the edge of his fingertips. He drew his hands back away from the creature’s leg.

A pair of bright golden eyes shown down at him from within the face of the young, green Dragon. Shaking out his dark mane, the youthful voice replied quirkily, “You still got it in you, Ole Man.”

Zento grinned, leaning back against the white stone wall of the overhanging cave with a casual air. “Glad to know I haven’t lost my touch.”

Purk was possibly the youngest of all the Dragons who had come to take up residence in the realms of Wyndor. Though Zento never pressured Zemi to talk about who the Dragons had once been and why they were chosen for their tasks there, it was not hard to figure out the young Green’s special talents.

Once you got past all the flack-mouthing, of course.

“So what happened,” Zento asked, teasingly putting a finger to his bottom lip. A single mock-critical glance was all it took. “I thought you never went down in battle?”

Finned ears rose to the challenge as a wide Dragon-grin crossed the creature’s maw. “Give me a break, Ole Man. I just got knocked by a bit of ricocheting fire. That’s all.”

“Suuure,” the winged man waved one hand in return. “That’s what they all say.”

Known for a quick and clever mind, in life the young Green Dragon might have stood a chance of becoming one of the best battle tacticians of his nation. Zento didn’t know what had happened to him to have brought him into Zemi’s service at such a young age.

“Hey, it’s true! Blame it on Brunswik’s bad aim,” Purk snorted and glanced the other way. “Don’t know why we bother dragging him into such a delicate operation to begin with. He just bungles everything up!”

‘Purk’ was originally a nickname, just a jest that happened to stick. That much Zento did know about him. The winged man could also sense that a lot of the Green’s light verbal animosity was mostly for show — nothing more than a perpetual teenager wanting to play the part of the know-it-all-punk.

Despite that, Zento couldn’t help but extend his own naturally fatherly tendencies towards the young Dragon. For the long time that he was unable to have contact with his own sons, Purk had often unknowingly served Zento as an outlet for his misplaced longings.

“Now, then…” Zento chided softly. “Brunswik does what he can. Just like the rest of us do.”

“Yeah well, it was my battle plan that pulled down the defenses of the Spiral,” Purk bragged, nostrils flaring wide with pride.

“I don’t doubt that it was,” the winged man replied in all seriousness.

“Though I heard that you kicked a lot of tail, too, Ole Man,” the Green’s fangy grin returned as the Dragon stuck his nose straight into Zento’s face. One snuff sent the silvery-white hair scattering over the warrior’s brow.

“What do you mean by that?” Zento arched one eyebrow, rearranging the misplaced hair.

“Only that you happened to be the one to take down Aur – the Creature from the Time Before!”

“I wouldn’t exactly say that,” the warrior grimaced deeply.

The Dragons seemed to have little thought about the situation that happened in the Spiral besides the idea that victory had been won in Zemi’s name. To them, the war towers had been brought down and the enemy scattered. Aur had been captured. And the day belonged to the Dragons.

“ZenToYa,” Purk flicked his tail with an incredulous tone, “Since when have you ever been modest?”

Zento responded with a shrug and thoughtful silence.

Seeing that he wasn’t going to get much more of an answer than that, Purk shook his mane out. “You fret yourself too much, man.”

“You’re probably right,” the warrior nodded in agreement. “Just comes with the territory.”

If I don’t, who will?

There was a familiar shifting sound of Dragon scale and claw-upon-stone from down the narrow corridor that led to the white-walled caves. Purk turned with a careless rustle of his wings, making a bit of room as a second, larger Dragon shape filled the mouth of the cave.

“Lady KaiShi?” Zento could pick out the features of the slender golden muzzle even before he had a chance to get a good look at it. Though, perhaps it was easier to identify her mostly because he had been expecting her to search him out… just like she always did when he was there visiting in the Dragon Realms.

“Zento…” the Lady Dragon’s eyes fell upon him softly for a long, hazy moment. Then she seem to realize that they were not alone and offered the Green a greeting as well. “Purk? What are you doing here? Were you wounded in the skirmish?”

“Bah,” Purk snorted in response, shifting his once-afflicted paw back as if to block it from her all-knowing gaze. “Wounded? Hardly a scratch. Not even worth calling a wound.”

“I see,” a quiet croon-purr colored her voice, “I heard that it was quite a victory in the Spiral? Congratulations.”

The Green hungrily responded to the offered compliment, like a starving man might to a piece of offered bread… one that he would have to fight to the death for.  ”Naturally. Lord Zemi told me to get the job done. That’s what I do.”

“There’s no doubt in that?” she gave him a kindly, but humoring look. Then with a flip of her mane, she intoned, “I’m sorry to interrupt here, but I need to speak with Zento about some pressing matters.”

“Already figured you’d say that,” Purk gave a sly wink, followed by a suggestive grin. “It’s always pressing matters when you want to talk to the Ole Man all alooone!”

“Purk!” Zento coughed at the intoned implications of the statement and waved both hands at the Green’s backside. “Don’t make a nuisance of yourself.”

“But that’s what I’m good at!”

“We can see that,” the winged man continued to shoo him from the room, good naturedly.

Slipping out the door, the young Dragon couldn’t seem to bring himself to leave without at least one more jab on his way out. A teasing warble floated back to them, followed by a laugh, “Aloooone….”

After a moment of silence, KaiShi finally gave a quiet sound. “Incorrigible.”

Zento grinned lightly, “Dragon or not… boys will be boys.”

“It seems so,” she turned slowly soft expression gazing down at the warrior. When she spoke again, it was with a change of voice. Kindly. And deeply touched. “It is good to know that you returned from the battle safely, ZenToYa. I heard rumors that you fought against some very powerful foes…”

“Were you worried about me?” he teased gently in return, eyebrows arched as he brought himself a few steps closer.

“With you, one can only worry,” finned ears perked forward, eyes twinkling in mischief as KaiShi arched her graceful neck down to regard him more closely.

“Good point,” Zento agreed, one hand reaching out to stroke the golden forelock.

Something about the Golden Dragon’s presence had always brought him comfort and shelter against the storms of his mind. There had rarely been a time when he had come to visit the Dragon Realms that they did not spend at least a short period of time locked in conversation. And feeling the way that he did now, Zento was deeply grateful for the chance to confide in KaiShi’s welcoming reassurance.

It was like coming home to an old friend every time the two of them sat down. And though it was true, the two of them had known each other for a very long time, it was also true that Zento really knew very little about who KaiShi had been before coming to be the leader of Zemi’s Dragon Servants. In fact, though he had heard that the Golden Dragon was one of the few that actually possessed the ability to take on a person-form, Zento had never actually seen it.

Not that he’d ever ask to see it – despite all curiosity. It was just bad manners. And one didn’t want to get on the bad side of Dragons… much less women Dragons.

“How have you been?” KaiShi asked, settling down with her tail curled about the two of them. It was a common way for Dragons to converse with people, it seemed.

“Tired… and stressed,” Zento answered, truthfully. She was one of those people that deserved more than a ‘I’m fine, how are you’ answer. He propped himself against her tail, relaxing against the feeling of the silky hide and soft flow of mane, letting out a long breath. “Things in the Spiral were not pretty. And even if we’ve won the battle there, I’m not sure what will become of the situation. But most of all, I’m just worried about…”

“TsuYa?” she finished for him.

“Yes, how did you know?”

“I’ve spent time speaking with SoYa. He told me of the things that were happening in Ceiswyr,” KaiShi said with a flick of her ear.

“Yes, of course. SoYa,” Zento rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. He should have realized that in all the time his son had spent there in the Dragon Realms that KaiShi would have introduced herself.

“Actually… that is what I am meaning to talk to you about, Zento.” The Golden Dragon spoke gently. Like one who didn’t want to add more pain to a situation, but knew things were far too important to go unsaid. “I know you have a lot to think about with TsuYa. However, there is another situation at hand that may be just as troublesome for your eldest son as well.”

The winged man lifted his head with a glance of deep concern. “SoYa? Why, what’s wrong with him? Is there a hold-over from the illness that inflicted him in the Cleft?”

“No… no… nothing like that. His health has recovered… that is not what I am concerned for,” KaiShi shook her head quickly.

“Then, what’s wrong?” he puzzled, running things through his mind, trying to fall upon the meaning of the Dragon’s words.

She took a deep breath, pausing for a short moment, gathering her words for a proper approach. Zento watched, and braced himself.

“While you have been fighting in the Spiral, I have been watching a situation unfold here that is most concerning, Zento,” KaiShi chose the direct method. As she always tended to. “Do you realize that Lord Zemi is falling in love with the girl that is Promised to your eldest son… and that the girl, AsaHi, may have feelings in return?”

Not at all what Zento was expecting, the warrior found himself unable to do much more than stand and stare. His mind was skipping in circles in attempt to catch up, giving him no chance to redeem himself before the Lady Dragon.

“You did not know of this, Athrylith?” her chiding was gentle, yet stern.

“I… sorta knew. I mean, I had an idea that Zemi was attracted to AsaHi. But I thought it was just passing fancy on his part… or just the effect of Drei’distau?” With that though, he turned a hopeful look up, “Are you sure that’s not what it is, KaiShi? The girl has a certain bit of attraction to all Dragons because of her abilities. Maybe Zemi is simply responding to this?”

“I think it is more than that, Zento.” Everything in her voice spoke plain: that SoYa was his son and he should not be overlooking such important happenings as this. “I’ve watched them together… I’ve seen the signs.”

“But how? I mean… Zemi’s kind can’t really fall in love the way Earthians can… right?”

“I don’t know,” KaiShi peered over at him. “But when it’s love, it will find its way. Even the mighty of our world fall when stricken by emotion. Could you not say the same for yourself, the Mighty ZenToYa?”

He gave a soft, sad laugh. “Yes, well… Kudako always said I had a foolish, soft heart when it came to matters of love.”

“Perhaps. But, then, so may your son,” she flicked the tip of her tail slowly. “And I am concerned for many things… namely… the things that Zemi does not seem to know or realize…”

“What do you mean?” There was a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He already knew the answer to his question. Still, there was something in him that wanted to hear someone else’s take on the situation.

“I don’t think that Zemi even realizes the gravity of what he feels,” KaiShi informed him. “He doesn’t know what love is, Zento. He’s simply acting on instinct… he feels this attraction and is following it. He doesn’t know that AsaHi is Promised to SoYa. And when he figures out the whole of it all… I fear his reaction.”

Zento’s face grew grim. “I see…”

“Not only does he feel this emotion that is foreign to him… something that even us Earthians have trouble dealing with at the best of times… but then…” she lowered her head, “He has to be told that the one that he desires is already taken. Despite the fact… I believe… AsaHi may be beginning to returning the feeling.”

“Are you certain?” the winged man choked on the thought.

“From what I’ve seen, I would say yes.”

“AsaHi wouldn’t do something like that to SoYa. She’s a good girl…” he found himself protesting defensively. He just couldn’t believe something like this could be happening.

“Sometimes, feelings happen that no one can explain or control,” KaiShi responded with a soft sigh. “I don’t think AsaHi means for this to happen. I have seen her acting just as devoted to SoYa in her time here, as well. And I believe that the poor child is caught in the middle of a very troublesome emotional mess.”

“Especially considering someone like Zemi is involved…” Zento drooped a bit, leaning more heavily against the Dragon’s tail as the full implication of the situation dawned on him. “Oh… man… what do I do?”

“Zento…” her voice was soft, a feeling of warm breath against his cheek as she drew closer to him. “I’m sorry… I did not mean to bring more trouble to your heart. But it was important…”

“Yes…” he ran his hands over his face, trying to regain his composure. “I understand.”

“And you are not alone in facing this,” KaiShi prompted.

Zento paused for a moment as the statement drew up around him. Then he glanced up at her, “What do you mean?”

“Let me help you and SoYa,” the Golden Dragon replied quickly to his question.

“KaiShi, you don’t need to be getting into this mess…”

“I have already chosen to become involved by coming here to talk to you today, Zento. As the leader of Lord Zemi’s Dragons, I do have some responsibility in things that would have such a big impact on us as this,” she interjected.

“Yes, but…”

“Besides, you are too close to the situation, Zento,” the Dragon shifted arguments. “You are Zemi’s Champion as well as SoYa’s father. It is important that you should not get yourself drawn apart in this. I have a feeling that both Zemi and SoYa are going to need your council before it is all over.”

Zento fell silent at the logic. Then he asked, “What do you suggest, then?”

“Let me approach Zemi. Let me see what I can do to help him understand,” KaiShi coaxed softly.

The warmth of her breath was at his cheek again. And Zento felt himself giving way to the pure sympathy of the Dragon’s request with an attempted jest, “Are you suggesting I’d only botch it?”

“Never send a man in on a mission of love… nothing good ever came of that,” she took up his hint with a tease of her own.

Zento gave a strained chuckle. “You’re probably right, KaiShi.”

“Of course,” the Golden Dragon curled her tail tighter about the two of them, a gesture of comfort. “Just let me see what I can do with that impossible Dreigiau.”

“Zemi... you’re falling in love with AsaHi.”

“Zemi,” KaiShi’s voice drifted up quietly from somewhere just behind the Dreigiau, “I think we need to talk.”

There was the sound of importance in the statement. An irrefutable solidity to her voice. Zemi recognized the sound when he heard it and knew it was best to allow whatever was about to happen follow through. There was a prickling along the nape of his neck as his eyes gave the horizon one last pass. Then he turned to give the golden-haired woman his best attention.

“Sure, what’s on your mind?” he replied with a genuine smile.

A soft breeze blew between them, adding a gentle day-draft to the warmth of the early afternoon. Zemi had come up to the Outlook to take a break from the lingering after-battle excitement of his Dragons. He needed to think about things. About the Spiral. About Zento. About Kudako. And especially about Aur.

“I’ve spoken at length with Zento,” she told him. The words should have been warning enough, even without the sharp golden eyes keeping watch over him intently. “From what I’ve seen over the past weeks and the things that Zento has seen as well, we’ve come to the conclusion that you’re growing fond of AsaHi.”

His brow furrowed at the obviousness of the statement. He leaned back on his haunches a moment before rising to his full height. “Of course I’m fond of AsaHi. Most everyone who knows her is?”

KaiShi gave a gentle sigh and shook her head. “Not that kind of fond, Zemi.”

“What kind of fond, then?”

There was a reluctance to the words as she placed them out on the table before him. But they came, clear and unwavering. Solid and factual. “Zemi… you’re falling in love with AsaHi.”

“What?” the Dreigiau’s head jerked around, both eyebrows arched as far up as they could go.

“That’s what I thought,” she said quietly. “You didn’t even realize it, did you?”

Zemi was just grappling with the idea that he hadn’t denied her statement from the outset. He gave a gruff snort, leaning forward to get a better view over the edge of the Outlook, “What makes you so sure of that?”

“I told you. Zento and I spoke and we–”

“Conspiracy,” Zemi grumbled. “Can’t trust anyone now days.”

“I’ve been watching you and Asahi,” KaiShi simply continued pressing over the Dreigiau’s offhand-remarks. “It’s all the classic symptoms… the way you favor her, the time you spend with her, the looks that you give her. Zemi… I’ve been around the Earthian block long enough. I know love when I see it.”

Zemi gave another mutter, rubbing at his nose with the back of one hand. He wasn’t really angry at the directness of her approach – KaiShi had always been like that. It was part of the reason she had been chosen to lead his Dragons… while Zento had been chosen to lead the Cyngan.

But this proposal had come completely out of the blue. Though KaiShi could be trusted on the matter of good council over most people any day of the week, the impossibility of the situation she was detailing struck a discord in his mind.

“It’s just the Drei’distau,” Zemi finally spoke, trying to shrug it off.

Afterall, one of his kind couldn’t fall in love with an Earthian. Befriend them, spend time with them, care about them – yes. However, Arweinydd did not fall in love.

“I don’t believe it that’s all there is to it,” the she shook her head vehemently. “Not for one second.”

“It’s not possible,” he informed her, echoing his thoughts. “My kind can not manifest that sort of emotion.”

“Well, you ‘manifest’ plenty of other emotion. What’s the difference?” KaiShi pointed out.

“There is a difference,” Zemi glanced over at her. “Even your own people have always categorized love as an emotion all unto itself. Yes?”

KaiShi stated firmly, “Just because you can’t comprehend something, doesn’t mean that it is impossible.”

“What are you trying to say?” he felt a sudden heat rise in his cheeks.

“After all, I thought that’s what we’re here for,” she didn’t seem to notice, refusing to let him get a statement in. “To break the chains of near-reality. To expand upon the flight of imagination…”

“Even the Arweinydd have their rules,” Zemi grimaced.

“Oh, come on, Zemi! Since when did you ever play by anyone else’s rules?”

The Dreigiau took in a deep breath. He knew he couldn’t get out of that one. “That’s… true… I suppose.”

“Trust me on this one, Zemi,” KaiShi told him, seeing that she had gotten him to agree with her on one thing. “This isn’t just the Drei’distau at work between you and her. You’re falling for her. So, get it out of your head that such an emotion is impossible for you to feel.”

He sat in a confusing swirl of thought, the facts of his origins in conflict with the determination of her voice. Surely, she was the servant and he was the Dreigiau. If there was one that knew of the Arweinydd, it was himself.

Though one couldn’t push aside the fact that even what the Arweinydd knew of their own kind was very little. No where had it been set in cosmic stone that Arweinydd were limited in emotion. If anything, Zemi had proved that basic feeling and emotion could be developed through enough exposure to the Earthian kind.

But falling in love?

That would put some major complications into the already muddled mix. After all, the most devastating stories that the Earthians told were all about people who did stupid things all in the name of this emotion called love. Certainly he, Lord Zemi Dreigiau, would not allow himself to fall into such pitiful heart-set traps.

“You know something? It’s really a wonderful thing, falling in love,” KaiShi had suddenly taken on a whimsical tone, her head lifted towards the sky. “I know how you desire knowledge about the Earthians…”

She paused for a moment.

“Love is the ultimate teacher in our world.”

“Is that so?” Zemi squinted a bit.

“Oh, yes. So don’t let it seem like I’m against you falling in love,” her words continued to assume that her stance was correct. And rather than dispute her, Zemi simply let her continue on, “I’d wish all the best for you if it were under better conditions.”

The Dreigiau could hear the shift in her voice. The turning point of the conversation. There was something more going on. He knew that he wouldn’t have to wait too long for it to come out. And he was right.

“Of all the girls out there for you to become fond of…” KaiShi gave a long sigh, “Why did you have to go and pick AsaHi?”

“What?” Zemi said, for the second time during the course of that conversation. For some odd reason, that had been the last thing he had been expecting to hear. Instantly he found himself balanced on the edge of curiosity and a strange sort of trepidation.

“Zemi… you don’t know anything about the Bonding Ceremonies of the Earthians, do you?” she asked gently.

He fished around in his mind for a moment before shaking his head. “Seems to be a familiar term. But I don’t know anything particular about it. No.”

“How is it that you can make an Earthian into a Dragon and have no clue as to a very common ritual like that?” she chided him. Just a bit. There as a hint of pity in her words. As if she was approaching something sad and wasn’t sure how to break the news.

“Maybe because I’ve only been able to associate with people for a very short amount of time now?” Zemi chided back. “It’s not as if I’ve had a chance to learn much culture, you know?”

“Oh, Zemi…” she sighed. Her gold eyes turned the other way.

He read her hesitance and offered her a leeway into the topic. “It’s okay, KaiShi… just tell me what I need to know. It seems to be important, yes?”

“Yes…” she took a deep breath, then began, “You have an idea of what the Earthian concept of a ‘promise’ is, don’t you?”

“Of course. It means that you tell someone that you’re going to do something, and you follow through with it. Correct?” Zemi was trying to figure out what that had to do with AsaHi. And with being supposedly in love.

“That’s pretty close,” she nodded. “Well, in our culture, when a young man and young woman are both in love with each other, they can choose to become something called Promised.”

“As in a state of being promised…?”

“To each other,” KaiShi tried to explain further. “It means that they will be true to each other. They will honor the love that the other feels for them. And they promise not to betray the person by falsely loving someone else.”

“That would mean that they belong to each other?” Zemi perked up, thinking of the possibilities of such a concept.

AsaHi could be his Drei’distau… and his Drei’distau only.

“Somewhat,” she nodded. “Once they have spent time together as Promised and they know that they wish to be with that person for the rest of their life, they make a vow to Bond themselves to each other in love. That is what is known as the Bonding Ceremony.”

“Sometimes you Earthians really do come up with the most fascinating concepts,” the Dreigiau churred under his breath, his mind calculating. For if he could have claim over AsaHi, then certainly he would be able to fight back against the encroaching Chaos.

“Yes, well…” KaiShi swallowed. She was pausing again.

“Well?” he peered over at her, curiously.

“Zemi… I know you’re not going to be happy about this,” she began, voice gentle. “But you do know that AsaHi is already Promised to someone else, don’t you?”

The entire world fell silent around him. So silent, he could hear the distant stars singing beyond the pale blue of the sky overhead. A song of deep, sudden lament. Of something that might have been wonderful gone terribly wrong.

He could feel his face whitening. Was he growing pale? Could he, the Dreigiau do that? And through the depth of the silence, the sound of his heartbeat thumped rapidly within his ears. His palms were clammy when he clasped them together. And though he tried to smile, it crossed his face as a grimace of sharp pain.

“What… do you mean?” his voice was hoarse and gravely. Somewhere between a choke and a growl. Somewhere between grief and fury — balanced on the edge of Chaos.

“AsaHi is Promised to someone else,” she repeated. Quietly. Firmly. There was no question as to what she said this time.

“But she can’t be!” he objected as if his words alone could will his desires into being.

She couldn’t belong to someone else — that was simply too stupid to believe. AsaHi was meant to be his Drei’distau! Why else would things have happened the way that they had?

“Zemi… she has been Promised… long before you even came from the cave,” KaiShi tried to reason with him, sensing the danger in his voice.

“AsaHi should belong to me!” he balled his fists, clutching the front of his robes. His fangs glimmered wickedly as his lip curled fiercely.

She flinched back, a look of alarm on her face.  “Belong? Oh, Zemi, no! It doesn’t work that way… you can’t own a person!”

“Who is it?” he leapt suddenly to his feet. “Who does AsaHi belong to!?”

KaiShi took a choking breath in. Alarm had shifted into anxiety and fear.

Zemi choked down the panic, trying to hold on to anything he could. He could feel himself – almost see himself slipping… slipping… the influence of Chaos reaching for him. If he couldn’t have AsaHi… how could he possibly fight back against the darkness that threatened to consume him?

“Please… no… don’t be this way, Zemi,” she whispered.

“Who!” he demanded again, voice almost spiraling up into a roar.

“It’s SoYa!” the words came in a rasping gasp, her head wrenching the other way. As if she couldn’t bear to look at the Dreigiau any longer. As if even she could sense the taint of the Chaos seeping into his soul.

“SoYa?!” Zemi echoed in an incredulous tone. His slitted eyes shot towards the arch of doorway. Towards the Great Chamber, where the Apprentice would most certainly be found. “SoYa!?”

“Zemi, I know what you’re thinking. But you can’t!” she was almost begging now.

“Tell SoYa to come to me,” the Dreigiau commanded.

“You have to remember that being a Promised means that AsaHi loves SoYa, too!” she was throwing all the facts in the book at him in desperation. And though she may have been right, he didn’t want to hear it.

He was the Dreigiau, after all. Who was to tell Lord Zemi Dreigiau what he could and could not do?

“Bring him here!” Zemi ordered again.

“Only on one condition,” KaiShi suddenly snapped back.

The Dreigiau found himself strangely subdued at her turn of demands. It had always been that way with him – Zemi was impressed by people who would stand up to him. Finding a core of calmness once more, he answered, “What?”

“Before I bring him here, I want you to think about what I’ve said. Think about it real hard,” she said.

He furrowed one brow in question.

“Think about SoYa — one of your own Apprentices! Think about Zento. Think about AsaHi. And consider what your actions can do to everyone else around you,” KaiShi’s voice was grave.

Zemi found himself surrounded by silence again.

“The hard part of interacting with an Earthian world is that disappointment is real. You can’t always fill every desire, every feeling, every whim that you have. And everything you do has a consequence, Zemi,” she rose to her feet, peering down on him. “The more powerful you are, usually the larger the consequences will be.”

KaiShi then turned, making her way into the Great Chamber. Leaving the Dreigiau to his thoughts. Leaving him to his silence.

And Zemi discovered within that stillness the faint, uncharacteristic shattering of what seemed to be his heart.

“Do you love AsaHi?” Lord Zemi asked.

AsaHi was laughing easily, curled in the giant coils of the big crimson Dragon’s tail. Brunswik, she had said his name was. And though SoYa had been somewhat shy of approaching most of the Dragons in Wyndor, the Apprentice had early discovered that this particular Dragon was actually really easy to talk with.

He reminds me of that one guy I used to know… what was his name…? The big guy… the one that was strong enough to lift twice his weight but couldn’t spell his name right no matter how many times he tried. Nice guy, though.

Brunswik was friendly enough despite his vast size. And of all the Dragons in Wyndor, he was the most apt to spend time there in the Great Chamber. Besides KaiShi, who had really done a lot to help make SoYa feel at home.

At the moment, he and AsaHi were relieved from their duty of looking after the strange man, Aur. Father had come and shooed them off, probably taking that time to make his long-awaited conversation.

A conversation with a creature that came from the Time Before. Who is now stuck in Earthian form. How much more can happen around here?

SoYa tried to take it all in stride. Like AsaHi seemed to be able to.

AsaHi who could sit in the tail coil of a Dragon that was nearly half the height of a Nefol castle without alarm. She was cheerfully sticking little white flowers in Brunswik’s thick black mane. And the great beast sat placidly, letting her do so. As if he was absolutely enraptured with the whole thing.

All the Dragons seem to like AsaHi…

He knew it was the truth. They were kind to him, of course. But they adored AsaHi. There was a difference – a big difference.

Maybe I should try harder to make friends. AsaHi always tells me it’s easy… but then, it’s always been so easy for her.

SoYa just shook his head and remained content with watching. Watching was fine, too. He was convinced that one learned more about the world that way. But that was just his own loose theory.

“SoYa…?” a soft voice said from behind.

The Apprentice turned, peering over his shoulder, wondering who would be interested in calling his name. He could see  KaiShi, standing under the archway leading to the Outlook.

“Hello, Lady KaiShi?” the Apprentice rose to greet her.

“Zemi wishes to speak to you,” she told him. There was a faint quiver in her voice.

“Are you sure he’s not busy?” SoYa asked.

He had meant to take an audience with the Dreigiau to tell him about what he had seen in the Passage. About the illusionary image of TsuYa. But he never had a chance to make the discussion come about before the battle at the Spiral occurred. Lord Zemi and all the Dragons had flown out leaving SoYa to sit on his anxiety.

I wish talking to Lord Dragon was as easy as talking with Brunswik.

“He has requested that you come to talk to him,” KaiShi replied. Again, there was a tension to her voice that made him wonder.

AsaHi was watching their exchange. When SoYa took in a deep breath, trying to gather his courage, she gave him an encouraging smile.

“I’ll be right back,” the Apprentice told her as he strode across the black-glass floor towards where KaiShi waited.

He didn’t know why the hairs on the back of his neck had begun to rise the closer he came to the arched doorway. Just shoving it off as his nerves getting the better of him, SoYa swallowed down uncertainty and strode past KaiShi.

“You’re coming in with me, right?” he peered at her, appealing.

“I’ll stay by the door,” she told him with a nod. “Zemi wants to talk to you privately. But I’ll be right here, okay?”

“Well… I guess…” It wasn’t really okay. He wanted her there next to him. Physically. But what else could he do?

KaiShi stood just outside the archway, something about her golden eyes was deeply intense. And though she might have wanted to come off as encouraging, SoYa couldn’t help but continue to get the feeling that something was troubling her.

I can do this…

SoYa stepped out upon the bare white rock. He flexed his hands, open and shut once, working out the tension in his arms.

I’ve talked to Lord Zemi before…

He ran his tongue over his lips, taking first one step. Then another. Making his way across the shelf of the Outlook, into the crisp afternoon air.

And he’s scared me senseless every time I have…

The Dreigiau’s crimson robed form was crouched at the far ledge. Sitting, knees to his chest, arms wrapped around his legs. Eyes fixed on the horizon line.

What…?

Not yet having learned how to put up a false public face, Lord Zemi was an open book that SoYa could read instantly: Confusion. Sorrow. Struggle. Anger.

What’s wrong?

He wanted to ask it aloud. But his voice failed him. His steps failed him. SoYa remained standing, halfway across the stone, peering at the unusual sight before him. Dreigiau in dilemma.

“SoYa,” Lord Zemi’s voice was strong, deep. Firm. “Come here.”

Something about it made SoYa’s whole body stiffen. And he suddenly wondered what he might have done wrong. Swallowing down his fear, the Apprentice made his way closer to the Dreigiau.

“Sit,” the Arweinydd instructed, motioning to the ground next to him.

Eager to comply, SoYa quickly assumed a cross-legged position. He fought to hide the shivers that rushed over him.

Lord Zemi remained staring out at the skyline, eyes tracing the flight of birds that swung across the distant clouds. The silence was thick and uncomfortable between them.

Finally working up his courage, SoYa peered over, offering his concern, “Lord Zemi… is there something wrong?”

When the Dreigiau began to talk, it was somewhat broken. Very throaty. “You know… you’d think that being an Arweinydd, I would have seen it all. Or at least be able to foresee things better than I have.”

Having no idea what he was talking about, SoYa could only offer, “I’m sorry?”

“Yes,” Lord Zemi replied.

The Apprentice sat there, lost. Not knowing what else to say, he simply allowed the Dreigiau his time to speak.

“Arweinydd aren’t supposed to be able to fall in love,” Lord Zemi said simply. He lifted a hand and looked at it before putting it back down again. “But I suppose most believe that Arweinydd aren’t supposed to feel anything at all.”

SoYa nodded, trying to help the conversation along in his own silent way.

The Dreigiau turned his head, a glint of spite in his eyes, “I found out that AsaHi is your Promised. Is that correct?”

The Apprentice’s mouth fell open, “Ah… yes. That’s right?”

The Arweinydd’s fist balled, gripping the front of his robe so tightly that it threatened a tear. A snarl twisted his face, sharp white fangs showing at the corners of his mouth. But something behind his eyes fought, his gaze ripping away from the Apprentice’s face, falling back on the horizon.

“What if I were to tell you,” the Dreigiau said finally. “That I’ve fallen in love with AsaHi?”

SoYa froze, locked in the power of terrible fear. Unable to say anything. Unable to move. He could only stare at the Arweinydd in wide-eyed shock, and wonder how much longer he had left to live.

Lord Zemi had fallen silent, fighting to remain calm. But there was anger there. Anger at the terrible twist of fate. Perhaps even anger that one mere Earthian stood between him and what he wanted.

When the Dreigiau turned back to him, his eyes smoldered. SoYa could almost sense the writhing of thought in Lord Zemi’s mind: Things like this should not happen… The child of ZenToYa, whom the Arweinydd would have claimed to be like his own son… a mere Apprentice becoming an unworthy rival.

“Do you love AsaHi?” Lord Zemi asked.

SoYa spoke the words slowly, with measure. Knowing they would mean his doom. “More than my own life.”

“Is that so?” Something shifted in the glow of the Dreigiau’s eyes. Something stirring deeply. SoYa was startled to see it was perhaps… respect?

The Apprentice lifted his chin just a little, his own frightened green eyes meeting the vast gaze, “Yes.”

As if the power of the single courageous word was too much, the Dreigiau turned away. The anger vanished and only something broken remained. “Forgive me, SoYa.”

The Apprentice let out a long breath, wondering if the danger was past.

“I needed to know that you would remain firm in your feelings for AsaHi, even in the face of fear,” there was a hint of pain in his voice. “I had to make sure you’d take care of her for me. And now, you have my word that I will honor your Promise to her.”

SoYa could not help but feel a mixture of shock and pity. For this otherworld creature, this Arweinydd, had discovered what it meant to feel love as the Earthians did… only to find that love denied. And though he could have easily obtained what he wanted, the Dreigiau had chosen honor over desire.

“Lord Zemi… I…” the Apprentice was too stunned, too overwhelmed with the virtue before him. There was so much he wanted to say, but nothing came out.

The Arweinydd peered over, then gently placed one palm on his head. “SoYa… Just call me ‘Zemi’, okay?”

“Zemi..?” the Apprentice echoed dumbly.

The Dreigiau pushed himself to his feet and nodded slowly. Then without another word, he strode away from the Outlook, back into the arched doors of Wyndor.

Still absolutely overwhelmed, all SoYa could do was peer out at the passing clouds.

“No!” he pushed away from the image, hands rising up before his face as if to shield his eyes from the terrible vision.

The burning in his chest tore TsuYa from the darkness of his sleep-haze with a sickly choke, his breath wheezing between his lips in labored gasps.

Again… this dream…nightmare… whatever…

He didn’t need to open his eyes to know where he would find himself. Part of him wanted nothing more than to remain curled in his own silence… hoping that if he did not look, did not see, the place around him would not exist. But the burning along the surface of his skin told him otherwise.

How long have I been here…?

Slowly, laboriously he forced his eyes open. Eyes that had grown as dark as the lurking shadows of the chamber’s hidden corners.

“Ahh!” TsuYa jerked back at the sight with a startled, raspy exclamation.

His reflection shown back at him from the surface of a looming glass structure — part of the strange silver globe that stood in the center of the chamber, just as it had always stood in his dreams before. Only, this time, it was TsuYa’s own image that had changed. His complexion had grown darker, skin and hair taking on a sickly shade of grey.

“No!” he pushed away from the image, hands rising up before his face as if to shield his eyes from the terrible vision.

It was then that he saw his hands before him… perfectly fine, untouched by the darkness of his reflection. With a choking hiss of breath, TsuYa flicked his eyes back to the image in the glass, only to find his reflection once more unaltered and normal. Dark green eyes peered back at him, white hair… his skin even more pale than usual from the rising of his fear.

What was that!?

Fighting to regulate the thrumming of his heart, TsuYa remained staring at the glassy surface of the cloudy silver globe. His breath came less labored as, for once in the dream state, the burning in his chest actually began to lessen.

Just a trick of the mind…

The only sounds within the chamber were his panting and the low hum of the strange mechanism that occupied the center of the chamber. The air was still and stale, not even a whisper of motion passing through the long dark streams of cloth that draped from the obscuring shadows of the chamber’s ceiling. There was still a heavy feeling of death lingering upon the stone of the walls… but it was old death, now. A haunting kind of death that shifted among the strange mists and drifted to caress the surface of the glassy, silver globe.

This place is full of mind tricks…

As the light of the globe shimmered in the depths of his eyes, there was movement from the soupy depths of the liquid within. Startled out of his self-thoughts, TsuYa jerked back in a quick crouch, ready for flight-by-instinct. Once again his pulse began to race faster, a sharp feeling of dread tingling through his limbs.

Something in there is alive..?

Each time that he had visited the dream before, there had been a presence within the globe. A presence that had continued to grow more powerful, more dreadful with each return he had made. And this time, the whole room felt tight, wound with tension and trepidation.

Nothing’s ever moved inside of that thing before…

As if in response to his thoughts, the movement came again. Just a shadow flickering from within the silver glow. The mists parted and swirled throughout the room, chilling his skin upon touch.

TsuYa found himself taking another step back. Still, he couldn’t find the will to pull his eyes from the center of the globe. A terrible fascination drew him to watch, just as all of his logic screamed through his mind in warning.

This feeling… it’s… so…

A dull thud resounded through the chamber as the shadow moved within the globe again. This time he could make out a shape… it was a tiny hand, pressing against the glass of the globe, from the inside.

A gasp escaped TsuYa’s lips as he startled back, his daze split apart through sheer surprise. Just as quickly as the shape had formed against the glass, the hand withdrew and vanished.

Another shiver wracked his body. A different sort of shiver. Not one that came from the pressing of the silver mists… but one that was familiar to him all the same.

“Welcome, TsuYa,” a voice resounded through the chamber, worming its way into his mind and capturing him at once. “I see that you have come to visit my son again?”

All coherent thought dribbled out of his ear as he found himself clumsily turning to face the vast presence, the owner of such a voice. Motion was hard, as if he was fighting for control of his own limbs. Thought was dim, his mind struggling to hold fast to his own pattern of thoughts.

A man stood there, bathed in the depths flowing shadows… a man that TsuYa had never seen before. Yet, a man he undoubtedly knew upon first glance.

TsuYa’s voice came in a hoarse rasp, the name fumbling upon his tongue, “Zer…om…”

He was tall and slender-built, dressed down in dark violet robes of fine, wispy material. His facial features were well-sculpted to an unearthly perfection, a hint of arrogance and hidden cruelty shown behind the depths of his eyes… dark eyes that seemed to go on into eternity. His hair, long and caught back in a finely woven wrap, shown a pale silvery-white that was streaked with touches of grey and black throughout.

“You have not forgotten my promise to you, TsuYa?” a slow, deadly smile slithered over the man’s lips.

The Apprentice shook his head, forcing himself to step back.

“I thought not,” Zerom moved forward, a slow, liquid motion upon the air — he had no use for walking. “There is much for you and I to accomplish yet. There is still time before my son will be ready to rise up beside us.”

Did he call this thing his son..?

TsuYa’s eyes darted towards the flickering of shadow within the silver mists of the globe.

But how is that possible?

“Yes. My son… LuShi,” one hand lifted, motioning to the globe in the center of the chamber.

A deathly cold shiver rushed through TsuYa’s mind again, rendering him speechless.

LuShi?

His mouth grew dry, stinging eyes fixed upon the globe once more, the sense of foreboding growing more and more sharp with each passing second.

In the old language… that translates to mean…

Echoes of his last argument with JouKa rushed to fill his head. The things that he had dismissed so casually suddenly reared their head at him in fierce round-about.

The Bane…

The impossibility of such a thing coming to pass shook him to the marrow. The impossibility of the creature that was encapsulated within the silver globe, just a mere few feet away, numbed his body cold. The terror of the dark being that rose before him made his soul scream out in maddening desperation.

Yet all he could do was stand there. Stand there and stare.

All this time… as I have been dreaming… Zerom has been creating this thing?

“Indeed,” Zerom’s slick, dark voice rose around him, caressing through the confusion that held him riveted to the floor. “My son will grow to mark a glorious victory for my forces. Zemi believes that the sheer number of his creations give him the advantage. But I will show him that my single creation will far outstrip anything that he could ever dream up.”

“You want to fight Zemi?” shock and surprise colored TsuYa’s voice.

“Zemi was given a warning not to do as he has done,” the voice grew all at once stern. Cold as stone. “He chose to ignore all that was said… this is something he has brought upon himself.”

“But, isn’t he your brother?”

“My brother?”  A low, chilling sound filtered through the room.

It took TsuYa a moment to realize… Zerom was laughing. Or, something that translated into what could be taken as a laugh. The sound was so devoid of true mirth, so menacing, it choked any further questions out of TsuYa’s mind.

“He ceased to be my brother when he chose to become Rhoi’r. An outcast… one banished from our people for his pride and desire of power,” the words became more distorted, a fuzzed sound around the edges, tinged with a hint of dark madness. The silvery mists began to churn throughout the room in response. “Zemi has become swayed in the grips of Chaos… one that shall be hunted till the ends of land.”

What is he talking about? Zemi… banished and hunted? How can that be?

“And you, young TsuYa. Where do you draw your lines in this battle?” the Arweinydd ‘s voice turned upon him, the full force nearly buckling his knees.

When the Apprentice found himself unable to form the words to answer, Zerom continued.

“You still have a chance, TsuYa…. the School… Nefol… everything that your father and brother are forsaking… these things can be yours.”

A sudden jolt rushed through his limbs at the words. Nefol. His home… the School… everything that he had worked for years to secure in the memory of his father. What would become of it now that the leaders had fled? What of the people… of the teachings… of his position… his birthright?

“Indeed… it should be yours. No one has cared for the establishment quite as much as you have,” the darkness purred to him, beginning to hover closer, feeding into his emotion.

“That’s… true…” the words of agreement hardly sounded like his own. So distant, TsuYa could not feel the motion of his lips as he spoke.

No…! Don’t give into this… you’ve done this before!

One slender-boned hand reached out towards TsuYa, a welcoming motion. Compelled, the Apprentice felt himself moving forward. One wobbly step towards the rising silver mists.

“It can all be yours, TsuYa… you don’t need them to tell you how it is done. You don’t need them to tell you how to live your life.”

You’ve fallen to his tricks before! Remember what happened the first time!?

His teeth bared, streams of struggling sweat trailing down TsuYa’s brow. Somewhere in the depths of his chest, the burning began again. The flickering image of his reflection, transformed — black-eyed, dark-haired – flashed through his mind.

He’s lying to you! Fight it!

The extended hand groped further, becoming less welcoming and more demanding as Zerom felt his efforts being repelled. “TsuYa… you cannot escape what you are meant to become…. my Rhyswyr.”

This time revulsion grew so strong that TsuYa’s voice exploded through him, “No! Never! I’ll never bow to you!”

“You speak as if you have a choice,” a grim smile slipped over the cold, white features. Zerom’s dark eyes focused sharply, draining away any will that might have given his prey a fighting chance.

As the Arweinydd’s fingers splayed wide, the pain within the Apprentice’s chest exploded in sharp sparks, rushing throughout his entire body. TsuYa’s head slammed backwards, reeling on the fragile length of neck as a ripping burst of wetness split open his lower cheek. His voice gurgled from gape-mouthed torment, fighting desperately to sound the agony that consumed him.

Reeling on the tips of his toes in a broken-back arch, his eyes rolling back into his skull, TsuYa felt his senses swim and scatter out of his reach. There was a scream… a scream that did not belong to him. A woman’s scream… and the feeling of movement around him in the phasing darkness that swept over his vision.

Time and again, his name was called. He felt himself shaken roughly, the pain intensifying, welling up until he could no longer bear it… an animalistic screech ripping from his throat. A sound so chilling, so inhuman… it seemed impossible that such a shriek could come from himself.

Jolted fully awake at the sound, TsuYa’s eyes flipped open and the blur of his own room in Ceiswyr slowly rose to his vision. Winged people stood staring at him from the threshold of his doorway, eyes wide with shock and fear. JouKa and Aunt SaRa stood among them, their faces reflecting the same apprehension and concern.

“Tsu…Ya…?” Aunt SaRa finally spoke, voice wobbly and wary.

He gave a low, uncomfortable groan at the sight of so many people staring at him.

“Go on, now. Get back to yer beds!” JouKa turned instantly on the prying eyes, waving them away with wide sweeps of her hands.

Slowly, the people filed out, but not without a few wandering stares in TsuYa’s direction. Finally, JouKa pushed the door shut, turning her own pale face back towards the happenings of the room.

“Hedd-ynad… TsuYa…” Aunt SaRa approached him carefully. “Are you going to tell me that this was just another bad dream, too?”

“What… are you talking about?” he grumbled, fighting to regain his senses. The room wanted to keep spinning, leaving him too dizzy to throw up his normal defenses against his Aunt’s kindly prying.

Aunt SaRa silently pulled a cloth from one side pocket. Folding it into a square, she reached out and gingerly dabbed at his cheek.

“Ow!” TsuYa hissed, suddenly aware of the terrible stinging that enveloped the whole left side of his face.

As she pulled the cloth away, he could see it was wet — covered with a thick black liquid. “I’m talking about this?”

One hand instantly shot up to his face, the stinging intensifying for one blurry-eyed moment. His fingers met with a number of long, yawning gashes that traced the entire lower area of his cheek. When he finally pulled his hand away, it too was covered with a slick black liquid.

Not… blood…

His hand began to shake as he stared down at it.

What is this…?

Gently, Aunt SaRa’s cloth was there, wiping the darkness from his fingers. And her voice broke through his panicked silence. “TsuYa… I think we need to hear what is going on now.”

Even after the darkness had been wiped away, he could not bring himself to drop his hand.

“Com’on, TsuYa. Let us ‘elp ya…” JouKa prodded, hands planted on her hips.

After a long moment of stunned silence, TsuYa looked up at them numbly, fighting back the tears that threatened to overrun his dignity. To his surprise, he heard himself choke in agreement, “Okay…”

“The reason I came to battle against you in the Keep... was to save TsuYa’s life.”

“Your spirit is in great turmoil, ZenToYa.”

The warrior startled in surprise at the unexpected sound of the voice, his own tone reflecting his puzzlement, “Aur?”

Despite the amount of time that Zento had spent there in the small room that had been set aside for Aur, very little communication had been made between them. And certainly this was the first time that the golden eyed man had initiated a conversation.

Zento could feel the looming presence grow tall, manifesting at his side. The cream colored cloth of Aur’s robes caught in the corner of his eye as sunlight from the open window alighted upon it. The brown-haired man stood there, peering down quietly at where Zento sat upon the stone of the window sill — a place that the winged man had found himself coming to time and again… just to think and ponder out all his concerns.

And to keep Aur company.

Because something within Zento’s heart expressed a deep, gnawing guilt at the thought of leaving the creature to his own lonely devices there within the chambers of the Dragons. It was a place that was unfamiliar. A place that Aur had been taken against his deepest wishes — by a group of invaders who knew nothing of what Aur was and where he came from.

Aur is here because of me. Because I fought to defeat him and deliver him up to Zemi… whom he seems to feel is an enemy to this world.

It was due to these thoughts that Zento chose to spend time there within Aur’s room, as if by offering some strange sort of one-sided companionship, he might make things up to the creature. Zento couldn’t tell if his presence was approved of… or if Aur merely tolerated him. It was hard to decipher the silence behind the depths of the big man’s golden eyes, a place where emotion and expression both seemed furthest devoid.

Yet, now, just out of the absolute blue, Aur had chosen to speak to him. Of his own will. Of his own accord. And had even moved to stand next to Zento by the windowsill.

“What I sense is correct?” the golden eyes continued to observe him. A blank silence hung over his face. Despite the meaning behind his question, there was nothing of concern within the gentle wave of his voice.

“Turmoil…” Zento met Aur’s glance with a bit of hesitance. And though he was never one to make a display of his worries, he found himself nodding. “Yes… I’m really concerned for the sake of my children. Both of them, it seems, are falling into danger.”

“Children?” Aur inquired, as if asking after a foreign concept.

“My two sons,” Zento nodded, leaning his shoulder against the stone in order to position himself better for the conversation.

“I see. You are speaking of your offspring?”

Little twinge of excitement rushed through Zento’s mind, rising at the thought that the creature had actually chosen to seek him out for discussion on the exact topic that Zento needed to discuss. The winged man had spent a lot of time trying to figure out how he was going to approach Aur with his request for help on behalf of TsuYa. Every idea he had come up with so far had been cast off in disapproval.

“Yes, that’s correct,” Zento’s green eyes sharpened a bit, studying the static features of the other man’s face. “Did you have… offspring… back in the place that you came from?”

For a moment, Aur didn’t answer. And Zento began to nervously wonder if he had made too far a leap ahead of himself in the conversation.

Finally, the golden eyed man shook his head, voice smooth and distant. “No. My kind did not exist through relations that brought about offspring.”

“But you are familiar with children, yes?” Zento found the whole idea curious and baffling. After all, how could any type of creature exist without producing some sort of family line to follow behind them throughout time?

“Yes. There were creatures similar to those that are now called Earthians who lived during the Old Age. They would produce and bring up little ones that were similar to themselves,” Aur nodded in return, obviously groping to find the proper words to describe something that was so unusual to his own way of existence.

The Old Age…

It was the first time that Zento had heard Aur give a name to the Time That Came Before. And the fact that there were once people that existed that might have been a lot like the people that lived now only served to intensify his curiosity.

“I see. That is very interesting…” the winged man shifted his pondering back to the topic at hand. There was no point in letting a perfect chance pass him by. “In our lands, our children are treasures that are deeply loved. Parents care much for their children… there is a special bond that connects the two.”

Aur nodded slowly in comprehension, “I have seen this bond. The young Earthian of wavy hair… the one you call SoYa. This is your child?”

“Yes, he is my oldest son. I have another son, TsuYa.”

“He is not here?”

“No,” Zento lowered his face for a moment, more grief falling upon the word than he had meant to show.

Aur seemed to sense it, his response quickly honing in on the root of the winged man’s anxiety. “There is something wrong with this child, is there not?”

“Yes,” the warrior’s eyes widened. “How did you know?”

Again there was silence for a space of time. This time, Zento waited, knowing that Aur would answer again in his own time. Not before.

The voice that returned to him was soft, with a hint of reflection, “Your mind has been fixed upon this child so intently that the whole of yourself speaks of the fear.”

This took Zento by surprise. Considering the situation, and his own mind abilities, he thought he had done a pretty good job of not letting things show to the outside world.

But then again, this is Aur that I’m talking to. There’s no knowing what he can see with those golden eyes…

“I’m really that bad at covering my tail?” the winged man gave a weak laugh.

Aur’s eyes flicked downward for a moment, examining him before replying, straight-faced. “It is my opinion that your current attire covers your tail quite well, ZenToYa.”

Zento laughed in spite of himself, one hand lifted to wave at the air.

“Is that a statement that brings amusement?” the brown-haired man asked, something that hinted on the edge of bewilderment.

Clearing his throat, the warrior shook his head quickly. “I’m sorry… no… I don’t mean to joke. You’re right. What I meant to ask was: is my worry really that obvious to everyone?”

“I cannot tell you that,” Aur replied. “I am not everyone. I am simply myself. And to myself, your turmoil is very obvious.”

“Ah… I see,” the grin flickered away from Zento’s lips. Replaced by more curiosity.

Why did he approach me about this? Aur doesn’t seem to have a grasp on basic emotional functioning. Yet… something had to make him start this conversation?  Is he acting out of concern…? Annoyance? Curiosity?

There was no answer to be found in the blank mask that served as Aur’s countenance, no matter how long Zento appealed to it. He was left with a sense of silent observation and nothing more.

Zento turned his gaze out towards the sunlit sky, peering past the stone window sill, trying to gather his thoughts and approach. Something spoke in his ear, a whispering thought that there may never be a better chance for him to bring out his request.

But will Aur be willing to help Tsu… and can he, even if he wanted to?

It had been the one thing that Zento decided upon, especially after everything that he had witnessed back in the Lion’s Keep of the Spiral – Zento wanted to ask for Aur’s assistance in curing TsuYa…. rather than to force him into the situation. It seemed that so much had been put on upon him — being intruded upon in his own Keep, being forced to take an Earthian form and to become a servant to Zemi’s powers…

I just can’t bring myself to force more on him… even if the whole reason for going out to the Spiral was to find a cure for Tsu…

Fear and consternation flickered over his face as the winged man turned his eyes back upon the creature.

Now that I’ve seen Aur… now that I’ve talked to him… I just can’t bring myself to push him into this without giving him a choice. He’s not a tool… he’s a living being.

“There is something I’ve been needing to ask you about, Aur…” Zento’s voice sounded decidedly less confident than he had wanted it to.

The golden eyed man didn’t utter a sound. He simply peered down with a calm and patient expression.

“It happens to be about my children… about TsuYa…”

“The one whom you fear for most.”

“I worry for both of my children,” Zento answered quietly. “But TsuYa may be the one in the most danger, yes.”

After a moment of trailing silence, Aur nodded. “I am listening.”

Feeling like he should begin with some explanation, the winged man spread his hands, groping for the right words to say. “The reason I came to battle against you in the Keep… was to save TsuYa’s life.”

“I know.”

“You… do?”

“Yes. I was aware of your intentions the moment you stepped into the Keep.” Aur spoke gravely. “I did sense that you were coming to fight me on the behalf of another that you cared for deeply. But I still do not understand why you would come to me.”

Here it goes…

“Zemi said that you might have the power to cure him,” Zento sucked in a long breath.

“Cure him?”

“Yes… as I said, his life is in danger.”

Aur gave it a moment of thought, then asked, “Why should I be fetched to cure an ailment when one as powerful as Zemi Dreigiau shows you and your child concern?”

“Because,” Zento tried to explain, “This is something that Zemi is not able to fix.”

Again, there was a pause for thought. The words came slowly, “This is an unusual turn of thought, indeed. What could be ailing your child that would require something of my nature to cure… whereas the Arweinydd cannot?”

“It’s a long story… but…” the winged man took in a long breath, combing his fingers through his hair. “My son, TsuYa, has gotten himself into a bit of trouble with another Arweinydd… one that calls himself Zerom. I’m not sure exactly what happened there… but it looks like this Zerom fellow is doing his best to try and take control of TsuYa. Zemi was able to put up some temporary protection against it… but he says he cannot completely cure it because Zerom’s energy signature is too close to Zemi’s own.”

The golden eyes closed tightly, a reaction that Zento had not expected. Silence drew up around the room, silence much more deep and grave than the previous had been. The winged man watched the creature’s reaction with growing trepidation, wondering if he had said something that would shatter his case right there and then.

“It is as I feared,” Aur’s low murmur carried across the folds of light and shadow within the chamber.

“What is?” Zento drew back from the statement instinctually. But the question still passed between his lips.

The golden eyes opened once more, fixing upon the winged man’s face. “The Arweinydd already have begun to battle one another. Such a struggle I have seen before in my own time. In the Old Age. Such a struggle brought about the great cataclysm that nearly threw the living worlds into the abyss of oblivion…”

“The Mistake…”

“Is that what it is now called?” Aur’s look became more intent. The first reaction that almost seemed to have feeling behind it. And it was not a good one.

“I’ve only just heard bits and pieces about it from stories that Zemi told. No one really knows what happened, but…” Zento trailed off. “Are you suggesting it was the conflict between Arweinydd powers that caused it?”

A low sigh drew from between the man’s lips in reply. “It would seem to have been the case, ZenToYa. And my greatest fears were that such a thing should come to this world and begin again. Battle between Arweinydd is a massively destructive thing, reaching far beyond the simple world that it is waged upon.”

“What do you mean?”

“It is far too complex to place into mere words,” Aur shook his head.

Zento received the answer in silence.

“If what you say is true… that the Zerom-one intends to use his power to control others here upon this world… then there is great danger in this fact. Especially if it is contrary to what the Zemi-one would have happen,” he continued. “Anger between Arweinydd brews the fiercest Chaos.”

Chaos…?

He didn’t exactly know what that meant, but Zento’s main concern fell upon his son. The warrior implored, a sinking feeling bottoming out within his stomach, “And what about TsuYa, caught up in all of this? Is there anything that can be done?”

“It is hard for me to make a commitment to cure your son until I have seen the damage that has been done to him by the Arweinydd power,” Aur answered.

Well… it’s not a yes. But it’s not a no, either.

“I understand,” Zento nodded, deciding that to press the conversation any further might sway the creature’s favor towards the negative.

Besides… that’s some heavy stuff Aur’s chucking out. I wonder what it means?

Before Zento had any time to ponder the words of the creature further, he heard a familiar voice ring across the chamber.

“Father..!” SoYa strode through the arch of the doorway, his face painted in a wash of panic. The feeling of fear and shock seeped from every inch of his body as he stood there, shivering as he noticed Aur for the first time.

“It is your son,” Aur simply stated, as if looking for confirmation.

“Yes,” Zento answered with a nod. Then he stepped forward, one hand outreached, “SoYa… what’s wrong? Has something happened?”

SoYa could only grasp for the hand, his words coming in a gasp as he dropped to his knees at Zento’s feet, “Father… help me… please!”

“Take it slow, SoYa,” Father’s voice was kindly, coaxing him to find his wits and gather his senses.

“SoYa, talk to me! What’s going on?” Father’s face rippled in a blur of worry and fatherly concern. Kneeling, the winged man placed a hand on both of SoYa’s shoulders, pulling the Apprentice to face him.

“Father,” SoYa’s voice was strangled as his hand waved with an exaggerated motion, “It’s Zemi… he’s…”

Maybe it was true that Zemi had given his word not to act out of spite upon SoYa for being AsaHi’s Promised. But something in the Apprentice had panicked the moment he had been left to himself to gather his thoughts. That’s when fear had overcome him. Shaken by the vastness of the revelation, SoYa had run to find protection in the only place he knew to look.

How do you tell someone something like this? “Father, I just found out that Zemi’s in love with my Promised? And I terrified that even though he said he wouldn’t,  he might change his mind and decide to kill me just to have her for his own…?”

The Apprentice glanced up, catching the sight of his fear reflected in the green of his father’s eyes. And in that instance he knew… he knew that Father understood, an understanding that came without words. Simply emotion. The connection of one Athrylith to another. And for that fleeting moment, SoYa was grateful.

This was quickly followed by a bout of sudden embarrassment as he realized that Aur was overlooking the whole scene. As always, the deep, hooded eyes gave away no trace of the creature’s inner thoughts.

Erg… he’s probably thinking what a big cry baby I am. Running to Daddy at the first sight of trouble…

For the first time in many decades, SoYa had sought out the council of his father. And he found that despite what anyone else may have thought of him for doing it, it felt good to know that there was someone he could turn to when the situation got too big for him to handle by himself.

It’s been so long since Father’s been here… I forgot how it felt to be able to talk to him…

“Take it slow, SoYa,” Father’s voice was kindly, coaxing him to find his wits and gather his senses. “Start at the beginning. Tell me what’s happened.”

Somehow, in the light of the few gentle words, and the strange tingling feeling that seem to spread from the place that Father’s hand gripped his shoulders, SoYa found his tongue untying and his thoughts falling into place. With a few deep, calming breaths, he began to detail the whole meeting that had just taken place – how Zemi had stated his love for AsaHi… how SoYa had feared instantly for his own life upon the knowledge… and how the Apprentice had refused to forsake his love for AsaHi despite the fact that the Arweinydd could have so easily made him nothing more than another colorful blotch on the floor of the cave.

Father listened, a grim silence furrowing his brows. Aur seemed to be listening, too, from where he stood on the far side of the room.

“I really thought that was it. Zemi had no reason not to strike me down right there… he could have had AsaHi if he wanted. But…” SoYa shook his head, still overwhelmed at the outcome. “He didn’t…”

“Really?” Father’s face was grim, “What did he do then?”

“Zemi gave me his word that he would honor the Promise that we had made to each other,” the Apprentice answered. “He said he wouldn’t interfere between AsaHi and I.”

“I see,” a flicker of surprise rose over Father’s face at the words. A surprise that mirrored SoYa’s own. “That is… something else. Especially for Zemi.”

SoYa nodded, swallowing deeply, “Do you think he means it? Or… do you think he will go back on what he said later?”

“Who, Zemi?”

“Yes,” the Apprentice nodded quickly. The moment that he had heard Zemi confess his feeling for AsaHi, his life had flashed before his eyes. This fear still lingered heavily upon him, despite the oath that the Dreigiau had given him.

Light help me if Zemi decides to change his mind later…

“These are unusual circumstances, but… in my experience, if Zemi gives you his word, he will do everything within his power to back it up,” Father told him with a deep frown. “Zemi is a creature of honor, though he may not come off that way at first.”

“I hope you’re right…” SoYa let out a long, ragged breath.

“As do I,” an unexpected addition came into the conversation.

The Apprentice’s eyes flickered up, hovering upon Aur’s grim face. SoYa blinked, surprised that the creature had responded to the discussion with any display of interest.

“What do you mean, Aur?” Father’s glace turned up over his shoulder to take in the tall, golden eyed man standing behind them.

A prickling rose over SoYa’s skin at the sudden feeling that something much larger may have been in the midst of happening… something that he could not even begin to foresee. But it was something that this strange creature from the Time Before was fully aware of.

“I have seen this all before,” Aur murmured grimly, confirming SoYa’s thoughts. “And just as before, I can see that the current situation is heading for serious difficulties.”

“You’ve seen what before?” SoYa shook himself out, slowly getting to his feet to make conversation easier.

“The outcome that results when the Arweinydd come to grow too close in an emotional relationship to the Earthian kind,” he turned away as if gathering his thoughts. “I do not know if there is a natural adversity to such a thing. But all that has ever come of it is the making of terrible destruction. It was part of the events that brought about the ending of the Old Age of existence.”

“So you are saying that part of what caused the Mistake had to do with Arweinydd and Earthians falling in love?” the Apprentice asked dully.

“It is not the act or emotion shared,” Aur’s voice held a hint of disapproval for the situation that had come before. “It is the nature of the offspring that came from such a union.”

Father coughed, “Arweinydd and Earthians had kids in the Old Age? Sheeez… and here I didn’t even think that Zemi’s kind were capable of doing something like falling in love.”

“Oh, it is very much possible, ZenToYa. Just as Arweinydd influence the world around them by their presence, so have I seen the Earthian ways taken up by the Arweinydd. It is all just a matter of time and understanding,” he nodded slowly. “Some of the Arweinydd of my time became alarmingly Earthian in their nature… mostly of their own choosing and self-adaptations.”

“And some just settled down and had themselves a family?” Father scratched his chin, finding the whole idea unusual, if not a little amusing.

“Unfortunately.”

“What’s so wrong about that?” SoYa puzzled aloud.

“Such offspring that result from this union have been terrible to behold,” Aur turned a heavy gaze down upon the Apprentice. “Perhaps it is a sign that creatures of the heavens and creatures of the earth should not, by nature, come together in such a way. For the children of this parentage grow to become dreadful bringers of destruction and death to the worlds around them.”

SoYa blinked, face stunned and confused.

Father gave a similar response, putting it into words, “Surely that’s not always the case?”

“As I have seen, it was always the case,” came the grim answer. “The children that result of a blending of the Arweinydd and the Earthian heritage are known as the Sygnus. Why their natures were so destructive, I cannot tell you… other than it is a sign that the creature simply should not exist.”

“Why… what do these Sygnus do?”

“At first, the Sygnus-child seems harmless,” Aur’s frown deepened, “But over time, as the ability within the Sygnus-child grows into adulthood, it was as if the Earthian frailty could not withstand the inherited Arweinydd knowledge and power. The mind of these creatures snapped and insanity afflicted the Sygnus, driving them beyond the edge of reason and rationale. And for something with so much power to be out of control…”

SoYa took in a shivering breath, his mind running wild with imagination.

“So, the point being… it’s really a very bad idea for Zemi to start falling for Earthian girls?” Father summed up with a lack of grandeur

“Indeed. And if Zemi’s being has begun to alter so much that he has adopted this line of thinking already,” Aur cautioned, “It may not be possible to persuade him against the Earthian emotions that are taking root within his spirit. It’s no easier for his kind to shrug off such powerful emotions than it is for anyone else.”

Yes… I could see that when he talked to me.

SoYa sucked on his bottom lip with a growing silence. And pity. Pity for the Dreigiau… was an odd thing to feel. But, somehow, he did.

I just don’t think Zemi meant for things to happen this way. And now… from what Aur is saying… for Zemi to fall in love isn’t just out of natural order of things… it’s terribly dangerous to allow.

“I never knew,” Father said quietly.

“That seems to be the way of things… you serve a creature that you know very little about, ZenToYa. In fact, I would say that Zemi himself even knows very little about his origins and the dangers of what he is doing,” Aur replied, picking his words slowly.

“And what might that be?” the winged man asked. His voice wavered, sounding like one who wanted to know the truth but didn’t know how much he could handle it.

“First of all, he has broken through the barrier that separated his realm from this one.” The golden-eyed man lifted one hand then dropped it, “Do you think that there was a barrier placed between the realms for no reason?”

“I… really never thought about it…” Father replied, shifting his weight back on one foot.

“Danger comes with the breech between the physical realms and the Arweinydd realms,” Aur’s words settled about the room with great weight, “Unwelcome forces began to act upon the Arweinydd who tried to do such a thing in the past.”

“Forces?” SoYa found himself asking aloud, though not meaning to interpose.

Aur did not seem to consider the question an interruption. He nodded instead, and continued, “These powerful forces are vast, woven into the very fabric of existence itself. All we really understand about these forces is that they work against each other, fighting to maintain balance through control. And that because the Arweinydd are very powerful creatures, the forces seem to be drawn to them, seeking to influence their spirit. The names that the Arweinydd of the Old Age gave to these forces were ‘Chaos’ and ‘Creation’.”

“Yes… I’ve heard of this before,” SoYa nodded quickly. “The stories say that Zemi discovered the powers of ‘Esgor-ar… the knowledge of Creation… long ago. Is that the same sort of thing?”

“You are sure of this?” Aur’s thoughts seemed to be pulled off track as the golden eyes turned to observe the Apprentice.

“Well.. uh… yeah… that’s what they taught in the School, anyhow,” SoYa rubbed at the back of his head sheepishly. “How else did Zemi create the Dragon servants and help to build the city of Nefol?”

“Is this true, ZenToYa?” the creature turned towards the winged man for a second confirmation.

“Yeah, that’s what I always heard, too,” Father nodded. “Why?”

“This ability was attributed to him when?”

“Oh, he’s always been able to use ‘Esgor-ar… since long before I’ve known him,” the winged man answered curiously.

“This was before Zemi created for himself a physical form?”

“Yeah. Zemi didn’t actually have a physical form till just a short while ago,” Father spread his hands. “Is there something wrong with that?”

“I.. am not certain,” Aur replied slowly. “I have never heard of an Arweinydd that could control the power of Chaos or Creation while still sealed within their own realms. Usually, the Arweinydd had to have manifested physically before such a thing could come to pass.”

SoYa felt totally lost. All this talk of great, powerful forces that tied into the heart of existence was a bit too big for him. It was the sort of thing he left up to people like Father and Aur and Zemi.

However, at this point, Father didn’t seem to be following along much better. “So what… does all this mean?”

Aur took a long breath, condensing the concept the best that he was able to, “When Arweinydd pass into the physical world, the forces of Chaos and Creation are drawn to them. These forces seek to influence the mind and heart of the Arweinydd and to use the power of the Arweinydd to sway the balance to one side or the other. It is not so bad if the Arweinydd is swayed to the side of Creation… for a creature of Creation gains power and fulfillment through nourishing the world. However… should the Arweinydd fall to the side of Chaos… I would predict it would be the end. For Zemi. For this world. And for all that live here.”

SoYa shivered as the statement trailed off.

After a moment of silence, Father spoke. “Do you think that Chaos would eventually become a threat to Zemi, too?”

“ZenToYa…” Aur’s sigh was deep, almost regretful. “The moment that Zemi passed into the physical world, Chaos had already become a very real threat to him. I have little doubt that he has been, and still is, caught in the battle between the two forces.”

As if in response to the surprised reaction, the Dreigiau’s majestic head lowered, drawing nearer to the ledge where SoYa stood.

“Don’t go that way!” the small green Dragon squeaked as SoYa walked by. The creature was scuttling the opposite way, finned ears pinned back against his skull.

“Why?” the Apprentice asked, stopping in his tracks.

After the long talk with Aur and all the heavy, doomful things that had been revealed, SoYa needed a nice long walk. And so he had taken to exploring the caverns on his own, lost to his thoughts. Thinking that he had been going some place out of the way, it was a surprise to see one of the Dragons so far in the winding caves of the mountains.

“Because–” the Green began, only to be cut off in mid-word.

SoYa almost fell to his knees as a terrible, thunderous roar suddenly shook the walls of the caves. Streaming trails of white stone began to rain down from above where it had been dislodged and shaken by the impact of the sound.

“Lord Zemi is seriously pissed off!” the Dragon finished with a hiss. He began making his way quickly off in the other direction.

One hand braced against the wall, SoYa watched the tail vanish around the corner of the hall. His body still shook from the reverberation of the roar. His mind reeled as he attempted to hold his balance.

That was… Zemi…?

The Apprentice swallowed down the thick lump of anxiety that had caught in the back of his throat. After all the talk of how the forces of Chaos and Creation fought to influence the powers of the Arweinydd, SoYa certainly did not want to tangled with Zemi. Especially since he wasn’t totally certain that the Dreigiau wouldn’t decide to go back on his word.

Now he’s had some time to think about the situation.

The hall was strangely silent. SoYa backstepped as quietly as he could. Part of him hoped that he could vacate the area while his presence was still unnoticed.

Still, I wonder what Zemi’s doing in the back corner of the caves…

A low groan rattled the air. A deep, gritty voice uttered a low cadence in a language that SoYa was unfamiliar with. Great anger and bitterness flowed from the sharp, biting sounds. The words rose up, growing increasingly louder. The Apprentice was forced to press his hands over his ears as his whole being was rattled by the dreadful voice.

And yet, through the wave of anger, SoYa could sense something more. A sharp pang of distress. A sense of desperation and struggle. A lost, lonely sense of hopelessness.

Zemi’s not supposed to feel these sorts of emotions… is he?

After all, Zemi was Arweinydd. A creature far greater than anything that the Earthians could ever be. A creature that held so much incredible knowledge and power. The idea that Zemi could come close to expressing emotions of inner-turmoil and confusion was almost too impossible for SoYa to grasp. Unless…

Maybe the Arweinydd are not all that different from the Earthians in the end.

But that, too, seemed far too unlikely.

Still, SoYa found himself creeping closer towards the overwhelming presence rather than turning back towards the main hall. Something within him couldn’t turn away from the knowledge of the Dreigiau’s pain.

Because I’m the one that’s hurt him…

Though his legs felt watery with fear, he forced himself forward into the cavern. As the Apprentice rounded the corner, he felt his foot slip. For one tottering moment, SoYa found himself staring dizzily into the endless brink of a vast, gaping cavern. Scrabbling in desperation, he clasped the stone of the wall. Hand over hand, he managed to pull himself up, rasping with panic.

There’s some kind of pit here?

Once he had regained his composure, SoYa felt a shiver race over his body. A hissing breath escaped his lips as he stared into the yawning darkness ahead. Something tightened in his chest as a chill gripped his very soul. It was hard to believe that anywhere within Wyndor could feel so foreboding and forsaken.

Something massive was there, coiling and rustling against the stone walls. Even the enormity of the cavern seemed hardly large enough to contain the presence that seethed within it. And though the Apprentice couldn’t make out anything within the darkness, his mind-senses told him that the source of the havoc was there.

“Lord Zemi?” SoYa’s voice was tiny in the face of the thick curtain of darkness. It felt as if he was so small that nothing would notice of so trivial a sound.

He couldn’t have been more wrong.

Two slits of burning blue-green flashed to life far above his head. It took him a moment to realize the huge lights were eyes. The eyes of the Dreigiau himself.

“Hedd-ynad!” SoYa yelped.

He stumbled back as raw power jolted through his entire body. Within the grip of the vast gaze, his limbs grew stiff with fear. And though SoYa had been wary of the Arweinydd in the past, this time it was different. More desperate. More terrifying.

Something’s wrong! It hardly feels like Zemi at all!

The Apprentice’s thoughts reeled back to Aur’s words. How Chaos sought for control of the Dreigiau’s spirit just as strongly as Creation did. Then the dooming realization fell upon him.

Could losing AsaHi be the thing to tip Zemi’s balance into Chaos’ favor?

The Dreigiau’s tremendous voice rushed down on him from above. It pulsed straight into the Apprentice’s mind, so overpowering that SoYa stumbled back, clutching at his head with a groan.

-You know of Chaos? How can that be?-

The Apprentice found himself unable to respond, doing everything he could to simply remain standing. In desperation, his thoughts fluttered back to the mind-training that his father had forced upon him. At the time, the training had seemed painful and harsh. But in that moment, it all came together. And SoYa knew exactly what Father had been trying to teach him… and why.

Sweat beading on his brow, SoYa found himself reaching, straining, working to draw up his own strength and defenses. Ponderously, he found himself able to withstand… to lift his head… and gather himself again.

Straightening, SoYa lifted his head to face the Dreigiau.

Then it is true that you are fighting against the Chaos.

-Did I say that?-

The voice within his mind grew in intensity. Miraculously, SoYa found himself able to stand his ground and respond with clear earnestness.

No, you didn’t say it. But I can feel it.

Silence fell over the chamber as the pressure within SoYa’s mind slowly drained away, releasing him. The two eyes close like stars winking out. And the Apprentice wondered if maybe he had said the wrong thing.

When the Dreigiau’s voice returned, it was calmer. Less vicious. More controlled.

-You must not tell anyone what you have seen here today.-

SoYa’s mouth opened as he sensed a note of deep regret within the words. As if the Dreigiau wished to apologize, but did not know how.

“Zemi?” the Apprentice called into the darkness. Hoping that the Arweinydd would not leave.

Not that I know what to do about all this. But at least, I can try…

“Are you so certain you want to?” The two eyes opened once more, no longer slitted, but gentle flowing orbs of brilliant light. As the shadows began to part, SoYa could make out the glimmering white form of the enormous Dragon curled up within the cave.

Wh-oah!

Alarmed, the Apprentice stepped back. He had never seen a creature so huge so close… to simply believe that the massive Dragon could actually exist boggled his mind. As if in response to the surprised reaction, the Dreigiau’s majestic head lowered, drawing nearer to the ledge where SoYa stood. The Apprentice’s alarm began to fade away as he was able to make out the creature’s expression… one of sorrow… regret… and despair.

“Lord Zemi…” one hand raised, an action of instinct. A motion of sympathy. “I know I’m probably the wrong one to ask this but… how… can I help?”

The great chin rested silently upon the ledge, the Dreigiau bringing himself to the Apprentice’s eye-level. His gritty voice spoke volumes, “I am not sure that anyone can help me, young SoYa.”

The Apprentice jerked his head up, eyes widening. It was the first time he had ever heard the Arweinydd speak of something as being impossible. “You can’t say that, Zemi! I… I may not know much about what is going on here but if you give into the Chaos without a fight… you know what will happen, right?”

“I do,” the Dreigiau intoned softly. “I do know… and yet, I did not listen to the warnings.”

“You didn’t have so much trouble with the Chaos until now, did you?” SoYa asked, feeling a twinge of guilt.

“Things… have changed since I have spent time here among the Earthians.” There was heaviness in his voice that was so unlike the powerful, self-assured Dreigiau whom the Apprentice had always known. “I guess, things have even changed within me. I didn’t think that was possible. But I was wrong.”

Is it because of his feelings for AsaHi… because Zemi chose to give her up to me? Is it causing him to fall into the Chaos? Is it because of me that people might be in danger?

The large finned ears perked forward just a bit, the bright eyes regarding him. Then a low rumbling rose in the white Dragon’s throat. “No… No, it’s not because of you. This has been something afflicting me far longer than that.”

“But everything that’s happening between us doesn’t help,” SoYa slumped, his face torn.

“SoYa,” Zemi’s head lifted, peering at him intently, “My own choices have led me to where I am today.”

SoYa found himself looking down at his feet. “Maybe. But I…”

“But you…?”

“I’m just…” SoYa shook his head, struggling, “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” Zemi seemed surprised.

“Yeah.”

“For what?”

“Because I can sense how much this hurts you. I feel like I’ve done something to cause it. And I don’t know if there’s something I can do to make it better for you,” SoYa gave a pained look. “You are my Patron Guide and I am your Dragon Apprentice. It is my duty to–”

“SoYa,” the Arweinydd interrupted quickly. “Don’t go there.”

The Apprentice shut his mouth with a click. He cast an appealing glance up at the huge white Dragon, the creature he was raised to serve. The one whose teachings he had followed since he was young enough to remember. The great power that had given his people wondrous knowledge and abilities.  It was hard to think of him as anything beyond the Patron Guide… beyond Lord Zemi.

And yet, seeing Zemi now, it was hard to still think of him as the same Lord Zemi that SoYa had always known.

“I just want…” the Apprentice’s hands spread, groping for the way to express it.

I don’t want you and our world torn by Chaos. How selfish it would be of me…

“I want to help you.” Not knowing anything else to say, SoYa bowed his head.

A new, rising emotion was spreading through his chest. To his surprise, SoYa found it to be the same longing that he felt when he saw someone else torn down in distress. It was not just the wish of a servant trying to appease the will of the Dreigiau. But an honest feeling of sympathy for someone that he truly cared about.

“I…” Zemi paused, the air around them shifting, somehow growing lighter. As if the Arweinydd could sense SoYa’s feelings, the words that followed were heartfelt and grateful. “I know you do.”

“How?”

The great white head rose up, peering down at his Apprentice in a strange way — like Zemi was seeing him for the very first time. “You already have.”

“I have?” When SoYa lifted his face again, he found himself staggeringly alone.