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Throughout the history of dragons, it seems we have been kept in the dark, losing strength while the enemy bent on our destruction grew stronger. Perhaps we were never meant to destroy the darkness. Perhaps it was always meant to win.

Though if that were the case, Britosa would have lost ages ago. Still, as it stands now, if the darkness were to attack us the way it did in the beginning, we wouldn't stand a chance. Still, we fight a losing battle. Time will only tell what happens to us.

Will we win? Or will the darkness finally swallow the remains of our species?

--Dragon Proverb

Chapter Eighteen

We left Dravawynn behind several hours ago. After crossing the outside border of the territory, I taught my parents about magic flight--with Britosa's help of course. It was beginning to come more easily to me, as if it had always been a part of me.

My parents struggled to grasp this concept. It took Britosa stepping in, me as her mouthpiece, for them to understand my instructions.

Not long after that, we resumed our flight.

I was used to flying faster than everyone, but it was because of magic flight. Without that boost, I was much slower than even the elders. Now, with my parents practicing this technique, the playing field was once again levelled, and I was trailing behind. Mom and Dad repeatedly had to slow their pace to let me catch up. They didn't seem to mind.

The last time I traveled far was with Arlya. I hoped one day I would be able to thank her and apologize for my horrific actions. Until then, I would try to save my parents. Maybe, somewhere along the way, I'd find my path to Arlya again.

We quickly regained the progress lost by waiting until early morning to leave. I had never used magic flight for long periods of time before and it quickly wore me out, forcing me to fly much slower as I tried to regain my energy. My parents still seemed full of energy while I was starting to fall behind, their occasional words of encouragement helped keep me going. But I knew it was only a matter of time before I would need to rest.

After what seemed like forever, I told my parents I needed to stop. Britosa didn't seem too happy about that judging by her scowl, but didn't bother saying anything.

I never thought I would be happy to feel the hard ground underneath my paws. Today, resting my wings brought with it a sense of joy and relaxation.

I didn't get much of a chance to rest when Britosa took the time to force me into working on my magic more, something I was less than excited about after last night. I wasn't looking forward to having her laugh at me again either behind closed lips--seeing nothing come of my hard work.

"Again," Britosa said for the hundredth time. But as always, nothing happened when I tried to call on my mana. I could feel it there like a small glimmer of light in the pit of my soul, but I couldn't grasp it.

To make matters worse, Mom and Dad cut in every so often trying to help. They didn't know they were only echoing Britosa's instructions. I didn't blame Britosa's frustration the longer my failure went on. I had the knowledge, just not the ability, and I found that even more aggravating than anything else. After all of my effort, I was still a long way away from getting my revenge, and there was nothing I could do but wait.

My parents spoke up after hours of trial and error. They seemed to realize how exhausted I actually was. I only let Britosa work me this hard out of respect for her. Eventually they understood she had no plans of relenting. I didn't sleep the night before, and I had flown all morning and into the early afternoon. Suffice it to say, I was practically dead on my feet.

"Britosa, as much as I understand wanting my son to learn magic, it might be best if you let him sleep," Mom said, her voice a balm on my heart. Perhaps sleep would come sooner than I thought.

Britosa nodded, and not a moment sooner did I slip to the ground, fading away before my belly brushed the grass.

***

Britosa was beside herself. Over the past thousand years or more--she had lost count herself--she had failed to save the lives of her brethren more times than she could possibly remember. And now, it may happen again.

Ymerc was supposed to be her way out for all of her failures, including saving her mate ages ago. Yet, he couldn't produce any magic whatsoever. Truly, he was far too young to be learning magic. His mind wasn't mature enough to fully grasp the concept of mana, the foundational reason parents waited years before teaching their child magic.

She hadn't expected Ymerc to fail as much as he had. The first night, despite her anger, it was comical watching him try. During his last attempt, he had grown so frustrated that he actually looked constipated.

Earlier, he still failed to achieve any manner of positive results, something that was angering Britosa far too much. Though one could understand why when they realized just how much was at stake.

"Patience," came the voice she had been listening to for ages gone past. The same voice who had guided her every time she tried to save her species and failed. She searched for the owner once upon a time, but failed in that regard. Still, his guidance kept her from making grave mistakes that would have helped the darkness's plans.

By now Britosa had moved away from Ymerc, intent on letting him rest. She regretted pushing him so far, especially when she hadn't even realized she'd done so. Yet, with the weight of everything at stake. she didn't know what else to do.

What would you have me do? She asked, waiting for a response. Sometimes the voice would take a while before responding. Other times, it responded right away.

"Patience," was all the voice said.

Her current goal was to teach magic to Ymerc before they arrived in Dravellia. If he didn't, Britosa's chances of success dwindled far too low for comfort. Her mission was to strike at the heart of shadows, toward the creature cloaked in darkness, and weaken it so the souls she left behind in the spirit realm could rest. She knew the enemy she would soon face would be far more powerful than before.

Britosa was a spirit. While she could interact in small ways with her species, she had no effect on the world around her much to her own frustration. Vulneara was the only difference. Her home, a peaceful place she longed to be in, was in danger, and so was this world. Vulneara, the afterlife, unseeable by any living creature. But no one knew that there was a realm between the living and the dead called the spirit realm, a place where the dead currently battled the darkness, keeping it at bay. But they were losing. They had been losing for close to eight years now. Britosa remembered the day their enemy surged in power, driving back the ranks of her comrades who helped to protect the bridge between worlds.

The sun was a soothing warmth along Britosa's scales, a perfect heat that had her relaxing in the noontime sun. A soft breeze rolled by whenever her body grew too hot, cooling her down to where she was comfortable yet again.

She was just about to drift off when a concussive blast echoed through Vulneara, drawing every soul's attention to the source, which didn't seem to be from any specific direction.

Britosa readied her mana and entered the spirit realm, a place that acted as a bridge for the dead to pass through to Vulneara. Those who failed went somewhere else. But what she saw wasn't the barren field that stretched further than the eye could see.

Instead, the spirit realm was riddled with craters caused by magic, inky black filling her vision. Around her, the creatures she had fought with for so long ago were obliterated by shadows. Nothing of their soul was left. Complete annihilation was all that awaited those who touched the roiling dark.

Britosa cast her magic, lighting the realm, forcing the shadows at bay. Britosa bit back tears, realizing she would never again see her friends alive and well.

Focusing on her magic, she pushed the darkness to the edges of the spirit realm where it had made its home, and, yet, she never saw coming the surge of power that forced her to her knees. Around her, dragons, griffons, and harpies fled the field, their faces etched with visceral fear screams piercing the realm while she took on the darkness once again; but this time, she was losing.

Vulneara, a place for the dead to rest in peace with those they loved should have been a place where no dangers existed. That rule extended to the spirit realm, except for those who hadn't already passed through. Yet, the souls of those who lived here were being torn apart, echoing screams the only part of them remaining.

Tendrils of shadows wisped past her, a voice calling for surrender, but she couldn't give up.

"Help is coming," the voice who had guided her all these endless years whispered in the back of her mind. All she had to do now was hold off until then, though she had no idea how long that would actually take. She gritted her teeth and held firm even as the voice took on a more familiar tone, one she hadn't heard in countless years.

"Come back. I need you," it said as memories of her battles came back to her, ones she had pushed down so deep there was never any chance of them being remembered. Until now.

The shadows, seeing their chance, swarmed around her, seeking to annihilate her too. A tendril shot towards her, piercing through her light and towards her heart. Britosa feared this was the end.

A massive figure leapt between her and the shadows, deflecting the tendril. It was cloaked in white armor that glowed a brilliant white that the dark couldn't penetrate.

Another joined, the first until a whole army was spread before her holding off the shadows. They wielded shields made of pure light forming a barrier against the dark. Creatures of every species worked together to fend off the threat to their land.

Britosa took this opportunity to leave Vulneara. She needed return to the living and see what had caused the sudden power surge. Once again, she left her home intending to intervene once again in the world of the living.

All of her machinations lead to now. She'd spent eight years commanding others in the shadows to find the truth. She thought she'd finally found that truth, but it would be useless if she couldn't teach Ymerc how to use his magic.

Eventually, she would have to tell Ymerc the one secret that would either break him or make him stronger. Seeing his strength now, she feared the latter. He wasn't strong enough to know the truth of his past, at least...not yet. And she feared he never would be.

If worse comes to worst, she would have to figure out something else.

While considering about her backup plan Britosa felt a tug on her soul that jolted her out of her thoughts.

Ymerc's parents had placed him on Cyndrithil's back and taken flight. Britosa had tied her soul with Ymerc's, while that allows her to communicate with him, it poses a very serious threat to her. If she was too far away the link would snap and she would never again be able to communicate with Ymerc.

She wasn't able to communicate with any others, even among clans to the east. She was supposed to prepare the clan for Xolta's arrival. Instead, the situation called for more drastic measures--measures that cut her off from anyone besides Ymerc.

Britosa hoped that Xolta was okay. Draconus could die for all she cared. Hurriedly, Britosa took flight, doing her best to catch up to the unsuspecting Ymerc.

***

The moon was high, a crisp breeze wafting through the area. Xolta had been in Dravellian for a few days now. At first Xolta, and Draconus were imprisoned and told to await trial. No one paid her any attention when she said she was here on orders from Britosa.

Earlier this morning, they were brought in front of the clan, a small tunnel forced them to walk single file, making it difficult for them to fight back. At last, the tunnel opened into a large cavern where most, if not all, of the clan waited. On the far side, a large hole was open to the sky where the sun was slowly rising, casting its brilliant orange rays into the cave.

A poke at the tip of Xolta's tail prodded her forward where they stood in front of the sun, their shadows long and dark. Xolta didn't see anyone she knew. She hoped they were all dead, that way, she wouldn't have to be reminded.

"This is the judgment trial of Xolta and Draconus. Both of them lived here in their early lives, yet left due to unknown circumstances. Begin!"

A dragon's voice boomed through the cavern before going silent as they made their way to the podium. Immediately, the crowd parted for two dragons as they walked down the center.

Both she knew. Both sentenced her daughter to death.

A snarl escaped Xolta's jaws ringing out through the cavern as all eyes returned to her.

Airswyth and Zyrapha. They looked much older now. Parts of their scales were dull with age, their eyes washed out, white with blindness. Xolta knew that wasn't the case when Zyrapha looked her dead in the eyes, no emotion swirled in those white orbs, only a cold, calculating gaze.

Xolta's heart threatened to explode and take out the whole clan with her. Fury, long been replaced by a roaring ocean of pain, reared up in a fiery blaze threatening to burn her to a crisp. Her claws gouged deep lines in the solid stone, nails on a chalkboard ringing through the den. Dragons closest to her bowed their heads and covered their ears to block out the awful sound

Zyrapha and Airswyth did not react to her sudden outpour of emotion, which only caused Xolta's anger to burn brighter. The only thing holding her back was her mate, stretching out his wing, draping it over her back.

"Xolta, Draconus. You are here because you have committed a grave sin. You have used dark magic, or as it has recently been called, Dark Sorcery."

Zyrapha's voice was the same as the day Xolta left. Nothing had changed here.

"If it were up to me, you would be pardoned of your actions. Unfortunately, your fate is in the hands of the clan."

Did she say pardoned? What bald-faced lies.

Xolta stopped believing anything they had said the day Yeara died.

The two elders disappeared amongst the crowd, but Xolta could still feel Zyrapha's piercing gaze.

The crowd parted once again for a different dragon, most likely the one who was trusted enough to speak for everyone. Her scales were a light purple blending into a tan closer to her belly. Two horns spread slightly from the front of her skull forward. A long spike hung at the end of her tail, sharp enough to lop another's head off.

"When you first appeared here at the borders, you claimed Britosa sent you here." The dragoness's voice was cold as steel left outside on a winter day.

"You also claim she was preparing us for your arrival and that we would need you in the coming days."

With Zyrapha and Airswyth out of view, Xolta's ferocity was calming down.

"This is correct," Xolta confirmed. "She said that something dark was coming to sweep across our world and Vulneara." Xolta's voice rang clear cut through the cavern. A cacophony of hushed voices rushed through the den at the revelation.

"So, why did she send you?" the dragoness asked, her eyes narrowing in curiosity.

"My--Britosa said that you would need our knowledge. She didn't say what for."

Xolta hoped that would be enough to sway the clan. She knew they held Britosa in high regards, though she didn't know how high.

"I see. And you think that is enough to pardon you of your sin?" the purple dragon mocked.

"Not only are you accused of using dark sorcery, but when asked about your business at the border, you lied."

Xolta trembled, eyes roving the den for any escape route she could find. The guards sited behind her tensed, ready for action. Whatever happened to her next was up to the clan, whether it be death or some other punishment.

"You lied about who sent you. Instead of saying it was your daughter, you said it was Britosa. While a messenger from Vulneara should always be listened to, it does not negate the fact that you lied. What do you have to say?"

Xolta was shaken, she couldn't figure out how they knew. She couldn't even form a cohesive sentence, her mind racing to find a way out of this.

She nearly leapt out of her scales when something moved up beside her rubbing along her flank.

"Yes, we lied because we thought it was the only way you wouldn't kill us on sight. While the messenger wasn't Britosa--it was Xolta's daughter--it was her words that brought us back. Otherwise, we would never have come. The threat to both life and death is far too real. If you kill us, you will lose a great asset in the battles to come." Draconus bellowed his voice for all to hear, his booming, bass-like voice reaching every corner of the cavern.

While Xolta hated her name being cast out like the wind, she knew she had no choice in the matter. Besides, Xolta owed him again. His ability to think rationally during times of stress was far better than hers. She only hoped it was enough to sway the clan.

The purple dragoness turned to the clan. "You have heard their words. They have lived a life filled with dark sorcery. They have come upon a task given to them by a dead daughter."

Xolta held back a growl, her muscles twitching, begging to rip the dragoness to shreds after the lack of respect for her daughter.

"Not only that. Britosa has said dark times are ahead. While their task matches with what she has told us, they could be here to sabotage us. With that being said, judgment is here. Raise a wing if you think they should be allowed to live. Keep your wings folded if they should die." Her voice rang through the den clear cut as a bell as silence settled upon the den.

Xolta watched on, each second seeming to take a year. At first no one moved, then a wing with a blend of red and black rose above the crowd calling for her life to be spared.

The whole crowd turned their heads to look at the dragon who had raised their wing and still they kept their wing proudly raised. It wasn't long after that another on the opposite end raised their wing, a cascade washing through the den as more dragons lifted their wings until finally over half the room had their wings raised.

The clan was allowing them to live, though their punishment would come sooner or later.

While they were allowed to live, their punishment would take ages, or so Xolta thought.

Their punishment was separated into two parts. The first was to write down everything they knew about dark magic. As for their belongings they lugged all the way here back in their grasp, they just handed in the books and called it good. Next, they had to train everyone dragon or dragoness who had gained their fire against dark sorcery. Suffice it to say, there were a lot of them. Over half the clan showed up to the mandatory exercise. The rest, Xolta guessed were too young, or watching over the hatchlings.

The only place they could gather in such large numbers and still have room to move was the beach, a large swath of land that cut across the entire east side of Dravellian. Beyond that, the sea took charge. No one else knew what was out there. Until Yeara perished, Xolta had always wanted to find out.

She and Draconus talked about dark magic for most of the day, catching them up on things they didn't know--pretty much all of it. Xolta groaned internally when she found that out. While they did know how to combat dark sorcery, knowledge of dark magic would come in handy in the future. Knowing what spells their enemy was about to use would go a long way in preparation.

Around sunset, Xolta was told to dismiss them, her own exhaustion paving the way. She also needed food which Draconus was all too pleased to go get for her so she could rest.

Draconus took far longer than usual bringing back food. She chalked it up to the unusual terrain they were on, but knew that his nose should have made up for it.

Perhaps he is catching up with old friends? Yeara did say he had lived here at one point. Maybe he ran into them while hunting? It didn't worry her in the least. Xolta knew he would come back eventually, for now she was all too pleased to lay half buried in the warm sand.

The moon was above the horizon, the sand no longer warm when Xolta moved. She stretched out, and with a powerful beat, she leapt into the air in search of her mate. He still wasn't back, and her stomach was threatening to eat itself. She needed to find herself food and then Draconus, wherever he was. While held captive, the past few days they were given nothing to eat.

Xolta was used to him being gone for hours at a time back at their den, scouting for intruders. Right now, though, they weren't home. They were in Dravellian, a place that had become foreign to the both of them, even though they were born here.

The wind shifted under Xolta's wings; she moved her tail to maintain her balance. Down below, she spotted something tan speed through the forest before disappearing behind the tall trees. Having found her dinner, she lowered her altitude to just above the tree line, the smell of dirt and grass now potent in her nose. Angling her tail she hovered above the branches, peering down she caught a glimpse of the animal she had been hunting, mostly covered by a large bush. A large elk, something that would definitely be enough to fill her.

Without a moment to waste she dived down, breaking branches snapping behind her. The elk never stood a chance. In the blink of an eye, Xolta landed atop the elk piercing its side with her deadly claws and chomping into its neck breaking its carotid. The taste and smell of blood as it spilled between her clenched teeth and into her awaiting mouth clouding her senses. Her hunger took over as she dived in, the taste of meat filling her jaws, blood covering the end of her snout as she sloppily ate the elk.

After the elk had been devoured, all that was left was its antlers. She hadn't had elk for many years. The only animals growing around her den were deer and boar along with a few other smaller animals. It was a nice difference after so many years of eating the same creatures. After, her senses returned and her belly satiated for the time, she lapped up the remaining blood on her snout. It wasn't until the crust of blood in her nose had been licked away that a familiar scent wafted into it. Draconus was nearby.

Following the scent, she eventually ran into him. His back was to her, he seemed to be talking to someone. Her guess must have been correct that he had lost time catching up with someone he once knew, though it was unusual for him to lose track of time it wasn't completely unheard of.

When they had first met years ago, he lost track of time almost every day, seeming to always forget what he was doing or where he was for a time. Though, that all changed when they became mates.

"Draconus, is that really you?" She didn't know why she even asked that question. The scent she followed was clearly his.

Something large bolted through the thick bushes causing a racket of shaking leaves and snapping branches. Xolta knew she wasn't liked or trusted here, but to run at the sound of her voice was a little uncalled for.

Draconus turned, his eyes as cold as the day they first met, something she had come to know and accept. She knew he had never been mad at her yet this time she doubted that. Something was different here, but before she could ask, his eyes returned to the same warmth she had fallen in love with.

"My dear, what are you doing out here?" his voice carried to her on the wind held below it something fierce--something, if she had known better, would say, old.

"You were taking too long so I went hunting myself, then I came upon you," she told him.

"Right, sorry. Time got away from me. I met up with a few friends and we ended up talking for a while before I finally came here where I came across a very old friend." His voice held a hint of malice at the end.

"Come, let's head back for now. We have much to do tomorrow," Xolta said, casting the small voice in the back of her mind even further away.

The clan had given them a den on the outskirts of the territory they were allowed to use while there. But apart from training, the other dragons and hunting they weren't allowed anywhere else. They were even assigned a small area where they were allowed to hunt. Anywhere else, they would be killed. Xolta would even bet her life they had a dragon following them around constantly, though if that was the case, she was having a hard time finding them.

They quietly headed back to their den where they promptly fell asleep, their tails intertwined.

***

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Ymerc

The days quickly passed, and so did the distance. With the aid of magic flight, we had more than made up for lost time. And while our travel was going smoothly, my magic training was...failing.

Every chance she got, Britosa drilled me on magic. This included when Father or Mother let me ride on their back. I had failed to produce some kind of result every time, and it was beginning to wear on Britosa's patience. She valued my training above all else, while my parents cared more for my wellbeing. They always stepped in to stop Britosa before she took it too far.

As the days flew by, Britosa's teachings only grew more aggravating. To think I was so excited at the start to use magic--now I wanted nothing to do with it. I was beginning to wish Britosa would disappear and leave me alone, though that never happened and would likely never be.

"Are we there yet?" I asked while sitting upon Father's back listening to Britosa lecture me, only lending her a sliver of my attention.

"Are you even listening?" I heard her ask. The answer to that was no, but I feared her wrath if I answered honestly.

Yes, I am.

"We still have close to a week before we arrive at the edge," Father responded.

Britosa's eyes narrowed in doubt.

"What did I just say?"

Looking back, I had no idea. Whatever Britosa was talking about, I had completely ignored her.

My silence was answer enough for her.

Smoke billowed out of her nose, eyes alight with cold fury.

"You need to start taking this more seriously. It is more--"

"What do you think I've been doing!" I screamed, ignoring Father's protests.

"Hey! No arguing on my back!"

I jumped into the air and called upon my fire, blasting Britosa's face. My flames swelled right through her.

"I am sick of your constant demands. I have been trying for days on end. Your anger is not helping me learn magic. It's only making it harder on me. Did you ever think that you might be the reason I haven't learned magic yet?"

My words shocked her. The smoke billowing out of her nostrils faded away into clean air. Something like hurt flashed across her eyes before she disappeared completely. I had gotten so used to her constant presence it felt utterly bizarre when she vanished.

"Britosa?"

No response came from the demanding spirit, only the sound of the wind and my parents' flapping wings.

"What happened?" Mother asked, concern filling her voice.

"I think I forced Britosa away."

They didn't say anything about that. Perhaps they were happy to see her go. She had been pushing me hard.

Now that she wasn't here, I felt terrible about what I'd said. I knew it had nothing to do with her. My inability to use magic was entirely my own fault. When she came back--and I knew she would if I was that important to her--I would apologize.

We had stopped to rest when Britosa returned. She materialized out of nowhere as if she were never gone.

I needed to talk to her, but doing so out loud would wake my parents, and leaving their side without saying anything was against our agreement. So, I settled on telepathy, much to my chagrin.

"Britosa, I am sorry for what I said. My inability to use magic has nothing to do with you and everything to do with me."

I had learned from my mistake with Arlya--what I said and did back then--I would never be able to apologize for what I did. I wouldn't let that happen again.

"What you said, while hurtful, was true. Lecturing you and getting angry wasn't helpful to you. I never had a hatchling of my own, so being around you... I don't necessarily know how to act. I am sorry for everything. I know none of this has been easy for you. Forgive me."

"Can we start over?"

That's what I really needed. A fresh start. And while Britosa has secrets, I understood that she may not always be willing to tell me them. As long as she tells me the truth, I am fine with that.

"A fresh start sounds great. Perhaps we can start with magic again. If you're willing?"

I heard the hope in her voice. Why did everything depend on me learning magic? I was already on this journey, and it was to save my parents and Arlya. I had no idea what a small dragon like me could do.

For the rest of the night, we worked on magic. Britosa was much more patient towards me, though I made no progress.

The next day, I slept on Mother's back as they flew. I hardly slept through all of the jostling.

We had been traveling for over a week, the days blending into a monotony. I lost track sometime after the eighth day. When we arrived at the western edge of Dravellia, I expected the scenery to change drastically. Instead, what I got was the same forest we had been flying over for just under a day, stretching to the horizon. How lame.

We flew through the air, not a dragon to be seen.

"Where is everyone?" Mother asked. The silence hanging in the air brought with it a sense of alarm. She and Cyndrithil knew we were here to fight something terrible, so not seeing any sign of dragons sent a shiver down my spine.

Cyndrithil said nothing. His body tensed beneath my paws, eyes studying our surroundings.

I stood, barely keeping my balance on Father's back, and jumped into the air, per Britosa's request. She said, if we got attacked, it would be best if Cyndrithil didn't have to worry about me on his back.

The rest of the day passed slower than ever. Every rustle of the trees had everyone turning their heads to look ever vigilant for any and all threats. The lookout had me on edge, and it was starting to wear me out.

Night rapidly settled, and my exhaustion forced us to land.

"Get some rest, Ymerc. Tomorrow, we will arrive at the deepest part of Dravellia. You will need your rest."

I listened to my Mother, though sleep never came. My excitement got the best of me, making me forget the entire reason we were there. Dravellia was a new place to explore, and something about that prospect set my heart racing.

Mom and Dad didn't look any better. From the looks of it, they stayed up all night keeping watch. Large bags swelled beneath their eyes. Even their scales lacked their usual bright hue.

It was late in the afternoon when the smell of salt filled my nose. I heard tales of the sea from books, but they never prepared me for the real thing. A while later, the horizon filled with blue. As we got closer, I made out a large, sandy beach that disappeared into a light blue with rolling waves. The smell of salt was much stronger than earlier, masking the scent of everything else. Beyond that, a perfect line separated the sea and sky with no sign of anything on the horizon. I figured Mom and Dad were not having the same issue with how much stronger their sense of smell was.

A dragon flew up next to us without warning.

"What brings three dragons to our clan?" Her voice was smooth and even. Bright purple scales blended into tan near her belly. A pair of horns protruded from her head bending in front of her.

Father didn't waste a moment in responding.

"We are here on orders from Britosa."

The dragoness's eyes narrowed, her chest glowing a slight gold.

Was she going to attack us? Was she the threat Britosa warned us about?

Questions swarmed me before I noticed the golden light in her chest had faded away to tan scales.

"You wouldn't be the first to say that. We have two other visitors who claim the same thing, though you don't smell of dark magic."

Her nostrils grew wide as she took a large sniff of the air.

"Your hatchling does. Though, it's certainly faded."

She turned her gaze to me, eyes colder than anything I've ever seen. If looks could kill, I would be nothing but a pile of burnt scales. A chill raced down my spine. I wanted to get away from her so bad I nearly flew back to Dravawynn.

"That was a misunderstanding," Mother replied, drawing the purple dragon's eyes away.

I would have to thank Mother later, with her gaze no longer piercing my soul. I relaxed again, letting out a breath of air I didn't realize I had been holding.

"What was the misunderstanding?" she asked nonchalantly, as if it wasn't deeply personal.

"We aren't his blood parents. We took him in after it was discovered Ymerc's parents used dark magic."

Father's lie was smooth, without any hesitation and just a little bit of truth. Yeah, my parents had used dark magic, but that wasn't why I still smelled like death. When I sniffed myself, all I smelled was the scent of salt.

Is that really what I smelled like? Decay?

Britosa didn't say anything, which was answer enough for me.

Great, I smell like death. Wonderful!

"Follow me. The elders will decide your fate."

Again, her gaze sent shivers down my spine, no doubt her words were meant for me.

I gulped, trying to ignore the sense of foreboding.

We followed her closer to the beach where I saw a large group of dragons practicing what looked to be magic, sparring with each other, bursts of light flashing here and there.

We touched down on the beach. The group of dragons from earlier was now nothing but a small, blurry speck on the horizon. A small cliff hung over the water casting cool shade onto the sand. A large opening sat in the stone wall leading into a torchlit tunnel.

Without hesitation, the dragoness entered. Father and Mother flanked me as we followed, their bodies like a fortress around me.

The torches stopped. A wall of darkness sat beyond the light's reach.

The dragoness stopped at the edge of the sphere of warm light, standing to the side to allow us through.

The darkness enveloped us, looking back, the purple dragon turned her back and walked outside.

"You are the new visitors. Two smells of the west and one, a hatchling, who has the smell of death."

We hadn't arrived too long ago. How did she already know we were here?

"What brings our new visitors--"

The sound of coughing filled the room before she resumed.

"What brings our visitors to our clan of Dravellia?" Her voice emerged strained and weak despite her authority. I wondered if she were ill.

A flicker birthed a fire that spewed across the den, alighting the torches along the cavern.

"Honestly, Mother. No need for the theatrics. You know why they are here."

Two dragons sat on a nest of thick leaves while another stood beside them.

The first was a mix of white and potentially what looked like blue. His scales were so faded it was hard to tell. The other was all gray, except for her wings, which were a blend of light gray to a very muted pink. Lastly, the third, who looked much younger than the other two, was a bright blue blending into black along her belly.

"Child, what would you call lighting the torches just now? Honestly, you are the same as me. And as old as I am, the theatrics are the only fun I get to have around here."

The blue and black dragon stuck her tongue out at what must have been her mother before rolling her eyes and laying down.

"Yes, we know why you are here. Britosa is at work once again which heralds dark times ahead. She paid us a visit a while ago, almost a month ago, and from the flow of mana in the room, there is one here who isn't seen. I assume this is our lovely friend, Britosa?"

"Y-yes," Father stuttered. He seemed to be as surprised as I was.

"When you get to live as old as me, you pick up a few tricks along the way. Reading the flow of mana in a space as small as this"--she gestured to the area around her--"it is trivially easy to do.

"Now down to matters. First, let me introduce myself, my mate, and my daughter. My mate here is Airswyth. I am Zyrapha. And my daughter here is Arapha. I take it the hatchling is Ymerc? It truly is a miracle to meet you." She pointed a shaking claw at me.

She knows me? How? I've never met her in my life.

"No, we have never met; but I know your mother, and I owe her dearly for a past transgression that turned her into who she is today."

"Can you read my mind?" I asked, trying to figure out how she could guess what I was thinking.

"Dear, your thoughts are plain on your face for anyone to see. It's quite easy to guess what you're thinking."

If she knew my mother, and as she said, was responsible for the monster she is, then she is as much my enemy as mother is.

"Mother, why don't you explain what you mean. I don't think he truly understands you."

Zyrapha nodded in understanding when she saw my face, clearly seeing the fire I felt burning brightly in my heart.

"Long ago, your mother was very different, and my poor choice led one of Xolta's loved ones to perish. She was unable to cope, and she fled from here."

Xolta was my blood mother's name? I had always called her "Mother."

"For decades, I have watched over her from afar. I watched as she met her mate, Draconus, who I am sure your hate runs deep for. I watched as you crawled from your egg. I was even there as Draconus spilled your blood, but too far away and far too old to do anything about it. And even if I had shown up, Xolta wouldn't hear anything I had to say. So, I left her to her own desires."

My anger began to rise as realization struck.

"You knew of my pain and did nothing? Stood by and watched as I was tortured and killed? Maybe my mother isn't the monster. Maybe you are!"

Father and Mother didn't look happy with my words. Their glares attempted to cool my burning heart, but failed to do so.

I stepped forward, my claws aching to tear into scales. I didn't make it even a few steps when a large, red paw stopped me.

"Calm down, Ymerc."

"Mother, you can't possibly expect me to do that when she could have stopped my pain!"

My body shook with anger, my heart threatening to explode. If my mother was weaker, I swear I could overpower her and tear Zyrapha to pieces.

"Don't yell! I know you're angry, but calm down. Don't make any rash decisions," came the familiar voice of light by my side.

You mean like killing Zyrapha?

"Let her explain. I feel there is more to this story." Britosa picked an awful time to move her mouth. All I wanted to do was rip Zyrapha to shreds.

"Before you try to kill me, let me point out my daughter, who is older, stronger, and trained in combat. By the time you got halfway, Arapha would have killed you. Start thinking rationally, not with your heart. It will save your life in the long run. I also have more to my story. Killing me you would never hear the rest of it. Are you sure you want that?"

I knew she was right, taking a few deep breaths, I relaxed onto my belly, the flame of anger simmering beneath my scales.

"I can control the minds of most animals, even see through them. My information network is as vast as the animal kingdom, you didn't even notice the small bird flying beside you as soon as you entered Dravellia. With some mana, I can hide my spies from anyone, that includes Draconus and Xolta.

"After Xolta failed to return with her daughter, I feared the worst. Spreading my mana I took control of a hummingbird and went searching for her, it wasn't long before I discovered what had happened. I kept watch on her through various animals as time went on, using my power to watch over my only regret. Eventually, she met Draconus, who I didn't particularly like at the time, but he was her decision, not mine. It wasn't until you were born that I discovered the monster Draconus truly was."

I watched as a single tear rolled down her scales. Mother and Father were listening attentively, and my anger was slowly fading.

"The first time Draconus took your blood, I sent a dragon to take you away. Draconus killed him long before he got to your den. The same thing happened to the next three dragons I sent, each one some of the best combatants we had, and each one Draconus killed ruthlessly. After the fourth dragon, I stopped trying, only watching as you were mercilessly tortured for years. I dreamed of the day I could talk to you like this and apologize for not being able to save you. The night you died, I knew Xolta was lost to me, and the hope of trying to make my mistakes up to her and you perished. It wasn't until one of my messengers saw you enter Dravellia that my hope returned. Ymerc, I am so very sorry for everything."

Zyrapha tried to stand, failing when her legs gave out, leaves rustling underneath her weight.

"Mother, you must relax," said Arapha as she tried to still her mother, wrapping her paws around Zyrapha's arm and pushing her back down.

"I will rest when I'm dead," she said, struggling to shove Arapha away.

"What do you mean he died?" Mother turned her attention to me, her brows raised as she looked me over. I felt a poke in my side and saw a blue tail moving away.

"Your son is a walking miracle. One I don't fully understand myself. Perhaps you should take that up with him more privately."

My anger towards her had faded. I had believed she had watched all this time doing nothing to try to help me. Instead, I was wrong. She had tried to help but was unable to. Perhaps I really should try to think more rationally instead of with my heart.

She had sent four dragons, each of them killed by Draconus. He is much more powerful than I thought. Did I even stand a chance at killing him? It only went to show he was toying with me the last time we met.

"You three are more than welcome in Dravellia for as long as you want. And should you need anything, my family and I are at your disposal. Arapha, send for Temat. Have her show them to a den they can use during their stay."

Arapha grabbed some paper and quickly scrolled a message on it, a bird flew in landing on Arapha's outstretched talon as she attached the paper to its leg before it flew off again.

"Temat will meet you outside where she will guide you to a den. Britosa, is there anything you would like to say before you leave?"

Britosa moved into my line of sight.

"Does your offer for help extend to anything?"

I repeated her question. Zyrapha raised a brow at my response.

"If it is within my power to give, then yes."

Britosa took her time thinking. Mother and Father had been patient during this whole ordeal, letting Zyrapha speak, though they seemed to be lost in thought at the moment. I was hoping they would forget about asking me about my death. That wasn't something I wanted to answer.

"I want your best teacher to teach Ymerc magic."

Again with the magic thing. What makes her think anyone else is gonna have any luck with me?

I told Zyrapha.

"If that is your wish, then it shall be. Arapha, send a message to Reryth. Tell her she has a new student." Arapha did as asked and another bird flew above our head before disappearing outside, its chirps fading away.

"Ymerc, I will do my best to keep you safe here. There is a dragon I don't want you to meet, and I will do my best to keep you far away from him. In the meantime, work with Reryth. He is the clans best magic tea--"

Her words were cut off in a fit of coughing.

"Mother must rest. If you need to see her again, send a message through any animals nearby. She will hear it."

Arapha ushered us out as Zyrapha struggled to finish coughing.

***

Xolta

It was day ten of this fruitless training. Only a few showed actual promise against dark magic. The others were far too weak. With her knowledge over dark sorcery, Xolta could crush them easily.

Xolta was summoned to the almost daily meeting with that purple dragoness. All she ever wanted was a progress report on everyone. Temat managed to make these scheduled meetings a complete bore, meanwhile Draconus got the more enjoyable part of at least dealing with magic. Xolta was the one who had to go review timetables with this stubborn dragoness. Xolta always left feeling the urge to murder her rising up just as it had the first day here.

She couldn't forgive her for the lack of disrespect for her daughter...well maybe if she bowed and licked her paw, though nothing Zyrapha or that other elder could do would satiate her wrath. Xolta was thankful she hadn't run into either of them. If she had, well...there wouldn't be much left of them period. Even then she might bring them back just to kill them again...and again repeatedly until her wrath was gone. Until she felt Yeara's spirit had been rightfully avenged.

She then turned the corner leaving that dragoness's den after a long, fruitless talk that always ended up a waste of time.

At first, she noticed nothing different in the musty old tunnels that ran through the mountain. A small breeze wafted down from above bringing with it a scent she couldn't put her finger on but definitely knew from somewhere sending her scales crawling. Turning the corner, she saw a short red scaled tail turn the corner before disappearing, a small scar near the very tip. She thought nothing of it, dragons were everywhere after all, it wasn't exactly abnormal to see one with similar scales as her own let alone a scar or two. Again, she went back trying to identify that scent. It smelled similar to something a long time ago with an underlayer of death mixed in, something so faint she could barely tell it was there.

She thought about it all the way back to the beach but was still unable to figure it out. Landing, she put those thoughts away. Draconus was drilling half a dozen dragons who had stayed past the usual time when the others left. These were the ones that had the most promise, their skills in countering dark magic unmatched by the others. Xolta herself would have a hard time fighting them if it came down to it, not that she ever planned such a thing.

Sparks of magic shot off as Draconus sparred with each one, none of them landing but coming very close. Draconus was much more accurate and found his spells hitting their marks every time, though he held back lest he kill them. All he did was give them bruises or small puncture wounds that would heal rather quickly.

Xolta moved along the beach long after the remaining six had gone home. Draconus was off hunting again and the warm sand felt absolutely blissful on the pads of her feet. She moved along the edge, a large cliff stretching out over the water and once again the familiar scent came back to her, taunting her, and no matter how much she sniffed around trying to identify the source, nothing came to her.

Moving away she once again put the scent away. If she couldn't figure out who it belonged to, they weren't important. Yet, she couldn't shake an itching sensation under her scales whenever the scent came up, something begging, scratching, and biting at her to remember; but no matter how hard she tried nothing came to her. Stretching her wings, she took off, forcing the matter of the weird scent and crawling scales to the back of her mind.

***

Cyndrithil

Cyndrithil hated this whole trip by now, regretting ever leaving in the first place. Although, with this knowledge, he could potentially save lives kept him from returning to Dravawynn. When silence was all that greeted them as they entered Dravellian, he was more alert than ever, looking for anything that could harm his family. When a dragoness appeared out of thin air, he nearly attacked her. That was until the dragoness noticed Ymerc's scent, and all of his strength came rushing back. He had even readied his magic and kept alert as she guided them.

When they arrived at the elders' den, he was more than happy to sit in silence and listen to what Zyrapha had to say. Her mate looked much worse than her, like his strength was ready to give out--probably why he stayed silent during the whole thing.

Cyndrithil knew they were old by the looks of their scales, much older than most dragons live to be, and her ability to control animals was something he had never heard of. Even her explanation of being unable to save Ymerc from his gruesome past made sense. Yet, what threw him for a loop was when Zyrapha claimed Ymerc had died, something that left him speechless for the remainder of their stay and Ymithia seemed to be in the same boat.

How could someone die and come back? Britosa was the only exception and even then, she was technically dead.

Cyndrithil wondered if it was a figure of speech. There was no way he came back from the dead.

Perhaps it was his spirit that died at one point?

Cyndrithil immediately knew that wasn't it. If it was, Zyrapha wouldn't have said she had given up on Ymerc.

He needed to ask his son. Now wasn't the time to do that. Cyndrithil would have to wait till they were alone.

Cyndrithil wanted to ask Zyrapha who this dragon was--the one she didn't want Ymerc to meet--but didn't get a chance as they were forced out so the elders could rest. It was possible that the dragon she mentioned earlier was the threat Britosa wanted them to stop. If he could find him and kill him before Ymerc needed to step in, he could save his son and mate from danger.

Outside, the purple dragoness named Temat--the same one who guided them here--met them and without a word leapt into the sky on her powerful hindlegs with the family of three following close behind.

Temat led them to a den big enough for the three of them though, just barely. They would be rather snug for a time, though Cyndrithil didn't mind. To him, the closer he got to those he loved the better.

Cyndrithil and Ymithia asked Ymerc the same question as soon as Temat was gone.

"What did she mean you died?" they both asked in unison, turning to Ymerc.

Ymerc was caught off guard by the question if his crouched body had anything to say, even his tail wrapped around one of his hind legs.

Cyndrithil let him relax before asking the question again. Ymerc looked behind him where Cyndrithil figured Britosa was hanging out. Ymerc turned back, fear written in the way his snout clenched and unclenched and his eyes trying to find anything to look at other than them.

"Ymerc, are you dead?" his mother asked him.

Cyndrithil had heard tales of powerful dark mages raising the dead for their own purposes, most of them ending in blood shed. Was Ymerc undead? He never seemed dead, but it might explain why the scent of death though faint still clung to his scales after all this time when it should have dissipated more than a week ago.

Ymerc seemed to be getting his thoughts in order, perhaps he had never thought he would have to explain his past, but Cyndrithil had to know: was his son a spirit?

Ymerc let out a heavy sigh as he hung his head, raising it as he began.

"After I escaped Draconus's wrath I ran, most of the time hiding in any caves I came across or a hollow tree trunk. During this time, I nearly starved to death several times. Eventually, I came across a grassy field. The forest I wandered in for months lay a ways behind me. It wasn't until Draconus was nearly upon me that I heard the flapping of his wings.

"I tried to make it back to the forest and hide, perhaps get away from him. Just before I reached the tree line, he slammed into me crushing me beneath his weight. It wasn't until his chest glowed that I knew I wasn't going to escape this time. Before his flames charred me to ashes, I blacked out. I don't know how much time passed, but when I came too, it was raining and beneath me a pile of smoking ashes lay. In short, I did die. How I came back, I have no idea. It's one of the many mysteries that I don't have an answer to."

Our son had died and come back. How?

It should have been impossible yet here he sat, fully alive and well.

"Come here," Ymithia told him, Ymerc mistook that for trouble. Cyndrithil knew better. He slowly crept forward, his head hanging less than a claws width away from the ground. When he was close enough, Ymithia swept him into her arms, hugging him to her chest, wrapping him up in her wings. Cyndrithil quickly covered them both in his protective wings, making a promise to never let any harm come to either of them; he loved them far too much, and he would start with keeping that promise by finding the dragon who Ymerc was to stop before anyone else.

Though things had been hard in recent times, Cyndrithil wouldn't change any of it. He had the most wonderful mate in the world and an amazing son, both he would do anything for.