The Living Stone, Chapter 7

The air in Argassa was cold following the rain, and it was the rain Rangus followed.  Footstep after footstep, he tromped through the damp and often muddy ground in the direction of the rain.  Though it had been traveling east, it now bent to the north, toward Drakvald, a place feared and demonized by the many tribes of Argassa.  But Rangus knew better, the tales of devious humans and raging dwarves were old now, and those peoples had not been far to the south in some time.  Rangus could only think of two reasons why they would avoid the comparatively ample hunting grounds of the rock wastes, they were afraid, or they had all they needed.  Either way, the goblin chief thought himself quite safe on this trek, half grinning at the thought of any fool that was going to cross his path. 

He pulled his darcat-fur cloak tighter over his shoulders, as the nagging damp began to eat at him.   The air was a miserable kind of chilly that came from dampness, a raw, wretched pall that seemed devoid of hope and life.  It was the kind of cold that sickness was born from, and it was that cold that Rangus sought.  The cold did not affect him so badly; he was so hot inside that he almost welcomed the terrible chill.  The hotness in Rangus was not his Gift, it was the humiliation.

After Rangus' failure to slay the dragon Bink had found, his tribe had withdrawn to more familiar lands, accompanied by a weariness and fear that colored everything they did.  Hunts did not fair as well as they might because the hunters were too unsure of themselves to take risks.  Rangus knew better than to punish them for such things, times for his tribe were hard enough.  He did not want to risk anarchy by antagonizing his people, and though no one had expressed it, Rangus felt responsible for the cowardice that had overcome them all.  He had failed his people, and now they suffered for it. 

It would not stand.  There was no way he could guide his people now, not when the shadow of the dragon and his horrible power loomed over Rangus' legacy as a chief.  He was one of the oldest living chieftains of his tribe, certainly not the oldest goblin but definitely the longest lived goblin with a position of power.  Because of his Gift, and his wisdom and strength as a leader, other tribes of goblins and even orcs tended to avoid Rangus' territory.  His people were strong, his words were inspiring, and his name spoken in whispers.  It was possible that he was the strongest creature in Argassa, by reputation at least. 

All of that, torn to pieces by one dragon.  And so, after leaving instructions to his most trusted warriors and under cover of night, Rangus left his tribe.  He exiled himself to the wasteland, only to return to his tribe when he held the head of the dragon. 

There was a crunch under his foot, which caused him to look down quizzically.  Half sunken into the soaked ground was a charred lump of wood that had crumbled under his foot.  Gazing around, he could make out tracks that swirled around the dead campfire, and broke off of the path of the storm.  Slowly he turned toward this new path, cocking his head curiously.  The imprints were faint but he could make out two distinct sets, those of a goblin, and those of a large creature with a broad, heavy stride.

Frowning for a moment, Rangus considered the implications of this discovery.  The last few seconds of the dragon hunt replayed in his mind, and the tiny figure that ruined everything flashed before him.  Growling, he stalked down the path between the other two sets of footprints.  He would return with the dragon's head, and also with the head of the traitor, Bink.  

*******

Wardan considered himself a tall person for a human, and he felt taller still among dwarves.  Still, in the halls below the mountain the dwarves called home, he never really felt cramped or at a lack of space, at least not more than anyone else. 

Now, in a tiny crack of a cave, sharing space with another human, a goblin, and a dragon, the raider felt just a little claustrophobic. 

Still, it was not as though he could complain.  He was practically unable to move in his current condition, so it was more accurate to say he was getting restless than the cramped quarters were getting to him.  The moment that Rilea let him get up and move around, he felt he would run from the mountain to the Dustlands and all the way back to Norheim, still with energy to spare. 

Sadly, the encounter with the other dragon at the top of the mountain had left quite a mark on the raider.  Even with his Gift enhanced durability and strength, that dragon was able to do significant damage; the most he had ever sustained.  Somehow, falling off the side of a cliff was less painful the blow to the chest he took.  He was able to move enough to get around, but Rilea demanded that he rested, at least for a short time.  Her reasoning was that his nigh invulnerable body was not used to repairing itself, and if he didn't give it a chance to heal properly he could cripple himself. 

Wardan agreed initially, but now, about a day later, his reservations were beginning to grow.  It was true that there was plenty of food, provided by Kra and Bink, but when they were not busy hunting they were in the cave, infringing on Wardan's space.  Kra was not so bad, but Bink was insufferably curious, and strangely friendly for a goblin. Wardan knew of goblins as savage folk, borderline xenophobic in their defense of territory. Bink, a little runt of a goblin, was brave and unguarded in his attempts to befriend Wardan and Rilea.

But then if Wardan had a huge dragon like Kra watching his back, he would perhaps be just as confident. Kra somehow had less presence than the little goblin, keeping his peace but for the few terse words he deigned to share and when he was eating.  He mostly kept to the back of the cave near a small pool of water, where he dozed or sat in contemplation.  That morning, Wardan noticed Kra staring intently at the surface of the water, glaring at a spot on the wall near the surface like the cave had grown a nose that was dripping unpleasantly.

Rilea remained as impenetrable as ever in her mystery, but she at least was an easier target for Bink. When she was around, Bink would latch onto her like a parasite, asking questions and making small talk. Unlike Wardan, Rilea seemed to enjoy the goblin's harmless inquisitions, and she spoke in a feathery light tone to him. It dawned on the raider that she must speak to her child the same way.

"Shut up."

Wardan snapped out of his contemplations, and turned toward Kra, who laid at the back of the cavern, supposedly asleep.  He and Kra were the only ones in the cave, but Wardan had not spoken a word.

"Excuse me?" Wardan asked. Kra gave no response, but it was then the raider noticed the dragon's big rocky paws were covering the top of his head, like a child trying to shut out  a frightening noise. "Are you alright?" Wardan asked, trying to inch closer to him. The big dragon said nothing still, and began to quake in his reverie. Whatever was going on was clearly disturbing him.

Looking around his immediate vicinity, Wardan located a rock he could toss easily.  Bink had done a fine job clearing out the cave of debris, but a few scattered stones still remained. He found one, and looked to toss it.  He stopped himself short of throwing it directly at Kra. The last time he threw something at a dragon was when he got this hurt in the first place. Instead, he whipped the rock into the pool next to the dragon's bed.

It landed with a loud splash, and Kra woke with a start. His big red eyes seemed frightened for a moment, and he whipped his head over to Wardan. He was ready to immediately apologize, but the dragon spoke first.

"Hurry, you must leave!" Kra said.

"... Come again?" Wardan responded. Why did all his encounters with dragons have to be so confusing?

"It will happen soon, I cannot stop it," Kra picked himself up and started for Wardan's spot.  "The water is moving, and I didn't even feel their approach, they'll be hear soon!"

"The water ... I threw a stone in there," Wardan blurted out, trying to explain himself.  He had no idea why he was being thrown out, but he was in no position to stop the dragon if he really want it.

Thankfully, Kra paused, blinking. "You did? Why would you do that?"

"To wake you up," Wardan admitted.  "You were talking and shaking in your sleep.  Nothing's coming, big guy, it was just a bad dream."

Kra visibly relaxed at the man's words, drawing back and sitting down. "I see. Thank you, I suppose."

"Don't mention it," Wardan said, relaxing again.

"Why should I not? I am grateful."

"No, I ..." Wardan smiled, sighing.  "It's just a saying."

Kra considered it momentarily.  "Ah, so much akin to our saying, 'wind over the wings'."

"Sounds about right," Wardan said.

"I wonder how else we are similar." Kra laid back down, but stayed looking at the human sharing his cave.

"We could talk for a while," Wardan suggested.  "I've got nothing better to do."

Kra nodded. "I don't mind.  I suppose I've been a poor host in that regard; I'm not used to company yet."

"If you don't mind me asking, who is the Mother? You mentioned her to the other dragon."

Kra dipped his head down in reverence. "The Motherwyrm, Bringer of Life, Matron of Dragons. She is the inspiration dragons strive for, patience, power, wisdom, and charity. Do you not have a similar ideal among your kind?"

Wardan frowned. "We did, long time ago.  Not so much anymore.  Humans believe the gods forgot them and left them to die in the wastes. The dwarves are a tad more charitable, they think the gods will come back someday, when we've showed we can stand on our own."

"What do you believe, Wardan?"

Wardan thought back to his encounter with the Wanderer. "I think there's a chance someone's got an eye on us."

"That is the least we can hope for, truly." Kra looked behind him for a moment, then faced Wardan again.  "Do you consider yourself a man of learning?"

"More like a soldier, but I'm curious enough that it gets me in trouble."

Kra grinned. "Do you wish to see something truly curious?" He motioned over to the pool.

Wardan picked himself up and gingerly made his way over to the dragon's pool.  He peered into it, now noticing for the first time how deep it was.  "Huh, lucky finding a water source this big."

"This was not here when we arrived," Kra told him. Wardan gave him a disbelieving glance, at which the dragon pointed to waters depths along the wall. "Feel along that spot."

Wardan knelt by the pool as instructed and dipped his hands in the pleasant waters.  He felt along the wall, and found several deep gouges at different depths.  "Cracks where the water is coming from?"

"Claw marks," Kra said.  "Specifically, my own.  The first is now much lower than your arm can reach without immersing the rest of you. I made that mark the day after Bink and I found this cave, to mark the top of the water."

Wardan's eyes widened when he considered the implications.  "The water level is rising?"

"With no discernible source," Kra said.  "What do you think of that?"

"It has to come from somewhere," Wardan said.  "Maybe it's melting down from the top?"

"You and I were both at the top, there's no ice."

"Oh. Good point." Wardan thought for a moment.  "Nellik's a bright guy, he might be able to figure this out."

"Who's that?" Kra asked, somewhat apprehensively.

"A friend of mine, he's at the camp at the base of the mountain right now." Wardan grinned sheepishly.  "We probably should have let him know we were stuck here for a day or two."

"Would your female friend have mentioned it when she left to hunt?"

"I suppose," Wardan said, sitting back down. "Still, that's odd but not unheard of.  I've been to a mountain spring before."

"Oh really?" Kra said.  "One that just sprang up overnight?"

"We keep finding new spots in the vicinity that pop up now and again," Wardan explained. "The Norheim Spring started near the top of the mountain about a century ago, but now there's fifteen springs on a mountain that used to be dry."

Kra seemed to quiet, digesting the information with large swishes of his tail. Wardan watched him move, noting the vast difference between this dragon and the one he met with the Wanderer.  Arithar was lean and majestic, a shining symbol of draconic virility. His scales almost had a mirror polish to them, and his eyes were gentle and warm. 

Kra, on the other hand, seemed weighed down by his own body.  His scales were dark and thick, his claws looked cracked and blunt.  Still he stood proudly, defiant of his very being.  His eyes were warm too, but the civility in them could be replaced quickly by a fierceness that made Wardan afraid.

"Could I ask you a personal question, Kra?" Wardan said timidly.

"You may," Kra said, breaking free of his thoughtful trance.

"Were you always ... encumbered like this? I've seen a few dragons, but even the worst off didn't look so ...."

"I am Twisted, and this is my punishment," Kra said simply.

Wardan sat a moment, mouth agape with dead words on his tongue. "Who did this to you?"

"The elder of my flight.  He knew when the change had taken hold of me, and offered me a choice: receive the curse and be banished, or execution. I chose the curse, because I must survive."

The raider simply stared for a moment. That was not what he expected.

Kra looked away.  "It is forbidden for other dragons to acknowledge a Twisted as wretched as me."

"That's cruel," Wardan said. "Surely your own kind would have some pity?"

"The word for cruelty in the language of dragons is the same word as pity," Kra told him, looking directly at him with resolute eyes.  "I am alive, and that is all that matters."

Wardan went quiet for a long time. Neither he nor Kra spoke a word, until another question came to Wardan's mind. "How are you Twisted? What makes you so different?"

Kra seemed unsure of the answer.  "All I know is that sometimes, a nightmare follows me from my sleep, and is capable of destroying anything it finds." He cast a glance at Wardan.  "Are you so certain you want my help?"

A thought occured to Wardan after a moment.  "How did you become Twisted? That's not what did this to you, right?"

"No, I was Twisted before I became as you see now.  One day, something just ... changed. It's hard to describe, but I was just different one day."

Wardan stood up.  "Did you dream the night before?"

Kra's eyes widened for a moment before he cast his gaze away. "One has a difficult enough time remembering dreams moments after being awake. It's hardly reasonable to expect me to remember my dream from years ago."

"No, this dream you remember.  It comes back again and again, vivid and clear each time.  You don't know why, but it changes everything."

Kra seemed to glare at him, as though his words were frustrating him deeply.

"Kra, did you dream of the trees?"

"What do you know of trees?" Kra asked.

"Only what I've seen in my dreams."

Kra seemed horrified at his words.  Wardan smiled as he realized the truth of his new friend.

"Kra, you aren't Twisted, you're Gifted."

*******

"Was it supposed to take 'em this long?"

Grif paced the camp back and forth, his great big boots wearing a rut in the ground. The camp they made the day before now seemed far too small to the dwarf. He and Nellik had been told the trek would be some time, but now it was going on a day and a half and there had been no sign of the two Gifted, and the dusty little crevice they were in now barely contained the dwarf's nervous energy.

"They are climbing a mountain," Nellik reminded his friend.  "Don't mistake your impatience for their lack of haste."

"I know, I know!" Grif grumbled. "But you know it's been a while, right? It's been much too long, for just a straight up and down trip."

Nellik sighed, reclining against a rock. "How can you be so calm-like about this?" Grif growled at his companion. "The captain is off on his known doing Gods know what!" Grif rumbled his frustration. "I should have gone with him; I'm a dwarf, mountains are my life! I know mountains over and under! For all we know that thief did ... something thiefy, and left Wardan to die at the top of some windy cliff!"

"Do you even hear yourself?" Nellik chuckled. "You never seemed the type to worry before now, this is highly unlike you."

"I'm not worried, smartypants," Grif scoffed. "I just think this was a mistake now."

"Even if you don't trust Rilea, have more faith in Wardan. He's more than capable of handling himself."

"It doesn't matter, I should be there with him, Gifts be damned!" Grif kicked a small rock across the dusty ground.  "It's about loyalty and honor, the most important things to a dwarf."

"Weren't you kicked off your last team for breaking the nose of your last captain?" Nellik asked. "Where was your loyalty and honor then?"

"Braggo was a coward," Grif spat. "He hid behind regulations and formalities; he didn't have the guts to be a raider, and deserved what he got. Can't be loyal to someone you don't respect, right?"

"In some twisted way, I suppose that makes sense," Nellik admitted.

"Borlan picked me up after my probation, said I was just crazy enough to be useful," Grif said, beaming with an off-kilter sense of pride. "When he assigned me to Wardan, I didn't know what kind of insane things he was capable of, but if I had I would have asked for him by name. Gift or no, he's the sort of leader I can really get behind: unflagging courage, gets his hands dirty, puts his team first, and not afraid to try something just because it's crazy. He's the closest a human can get to being a dwarf."

Nellik nodded. "Save for his inability to grow a beard."

"He's young still, it can happen!" Grif told him. "He'll never get the chance if that thief betrays him up there!"

"And why, pray tell, would I do that?"

Grif wheeled around, coming face to blindfold with a slyly grinning Rilea. She stood over then on one of the hills that surrounded the camp, arms crossed in a teasingly confident manner. But it was not her demeanor that flustered Grif so, it was the small, stumpy form of a goblin that stood next to her, clinging to her robes.

She must have noticed Grif's distaste, as she held up a comforting hand. "Don't worry about him, he's been nothing but help since he saved us," Rilea said, placing a motherly hand atop the goblin's head as she deflected the worry of the other raiders.

"Saved you?" What happened?" Nellik asked.

"Oh, just a rampaging dragon," Rilea said.

"You're telling me that two gifted were saved from a dragon by a GOBLIN?" Grif said incredulously.

The goblin next to her nodded. "Bink and Kra, both fight dragon, save new friends!" he clung tighter to Rilea's robes, his brave tone belying his nervous disposition. 

Grif noted the bundle of crude javelins on his back, and eyed him warily. "Where's Warden, then?"

"Recovering," Rilea said. "He got the brunt of the dragon's wrath, and actually managed to get hurt, for what I assume was the first time in a long time. So our other new friend is keeping him company while Bink and I went hunting."

"I don't see any spoils," Nellik stated.

Rilea looked over he shoulder. "Oh, we have plenty. That's one of the reasons I came back to camp, besides to very courteously give you some news. We need some help carrying all we have back to the cave."

Grif scrambled up the hill, causing the goblin to scurry to Rilea's other side, keeping her between himself and the excitable dwarf. The woman gestured off in the distance to a small outcropping she had marked with a spare scarf. It seemed to be a sizable pile from far away.

"All that's yours?" Grif asked.

"Ours," she corrected, "as long as you help me lug it up the mountain to Wardan."

"Come on, Nel, we got some work to do!" Grif shouted back to his teammate before trundling off towards the pile of animal carcasses.

Grif''s jaw dropped when he saw the sheer volume of game they had managed to bring down.  A whole family of ashrabbits, at least a dozen bladehawks and even a couple of massive cliff lizards lay in a pile in between the two boulders. There was enough here to last the small group for a week.

"Why did you bother catching so much?" Nellik asked after his surprise had subsided. "Surely much of this will spoil before there is a chance to eat it?"

"This is all for two nights," Rilea explained simply, causing Grif and Nellik to gawk at her.

"Does the goblin eat enough for five?" Nellik said.

"No, but our new dragon friend does."

"Dragon?" Grif roared. "I thought you said you killed a dragon?"

"How do you think we managed that on our own? We had another dragon on our side."

"And a goblin?"

"They did not ask us why we kept company, we did not ask them."

Bink chuckled a throaty goblin chuckle.

As they worked to gather up the food, Grif could not help but keep a stern eye on the goblin. Rilea must have noticed, because as he was bundling up the last of the cliff lizards she came over to sit by him.

"He's really quite good company," Rilea said, nodding in the direction of the goblin, who was wrapping up the ashrabbits. "Both are, to be honest."

"Never met a goblin I didn't wanna bash," Grif said, eyeing the little creature sideways.

"Don't you dare be rude to him," Rilea warned the dwarf. "He risked much to help us."

"Goblins ain't got much to offer in terms of trust," Grif said. "He's got a lot to prove, if he thinks he can win over a dwarf."

"I think he's done plenty if you ask me. Most of this was his catch, I barely helped."

Still, Grif was apprehensive. "But a dwarf thanking a goblin? I'd never live it down!"

"We don't get to choose our allies in the wasteland," Rilea reminded him. "Bink and Kra have only been help to us so far, it would be highly impolite of us to refuse their help."

Grif nodded slowly, coming to terms with the idea. Honor in the face of adversity, after all. It was the dwarven way.

With a much improved mood, he walked over to Bink, who cringed at the dwarf's approach. He sized up the goblin, and extended his hand. Hesitantly the goblin grasped Grif's meaty appendage.

"Thanks for helping me and my friends, little guy."

"Thank for not crushing Bink, dwarfy," Bink replied timidly as Grif shook his hand.

The dwarf gave a chuckle. "Call me Grif, Bink. Let's get this meal up to your buddy now."

*******

 That evening, the group of six dined together in the small cave.  Kra had been apprehensive of meeting even more people; this was only his second day in Drakvald and already his social circle had tripled in size. But the newcomers, Nellik and Grif, seemed just as amicable as Wardan and Rilea, not to mention Bink. 

While they ate, Wardan told his raider friends about the fight with the dragon, regaling them with a detailed -- and sometimes exaggerated -- explanation of the young, aggressive dragon that had attacked them on the top of the mountain. They listened with rapt attention as their captain told them how Kra came in and challenged their foe just before it was going to kill him, and how Bink swept in at the last minute to deliver the crucial strike that won the battle. Kra found himself just as riveted by the retelling, despite having actually been there.

Time moved swiftly, in the way that company tends to pass it.  Kra was lost in it all, his mind whirled from the new voices and faces. He did not expect to meet so many people so soon after coming to Drakvald. With one brave choice, he had endeared himself to two strangers, who seemed to have no problem introducing him and Bink to more people.

Kra's instincts told him this was a bad idea. All during the meal he kept his peace, listening contently while he considered his options. There was no reason to trust them; after all, they might have ill intentions, just as the last ones did. But he did not want to simply tell them to leave, it had been so long since he had so many people around him. The days before his curse, he had his whole clan around him all the time. Even the voices in his dream earlier knew he was lonely, and wanted him to keep these humans around.

But as the evening came upon them, his doubt crept back in. He solemnly reminded himself that if he wanted to last in this new land, he could not interfere with the other races unnecessarily. As comforting as it was to have one companion, let alone all the new ones, the less attention he drew to himself the better. As long as the humans did not mind him being here, he could happily leave them be, but he could not stay with them.

"Why humans -- and Grif -- out by our mountain?" Bink asked when everyone was done eating.

"We're on the hunt, little one," Grif said. "There's nasty folks about, callin' themselves the Destructors. They had a camp nearby, you might have seen them?"

Kra glanced over to Bink, who shared his look of concern. "Who are these Destructors?" Kra asked.

Wardan frowned. "Cultists, who believe the wasteland will become paradise after purging the remnants of life from it."

Despoilers!

Kra shuddered as his voices chimed in. "We saw them, shortly before we met you."

"That's why we found their camp empty then?" Rilea asked.

"In a manner of speaking," the dragon responded. "They fled from me without much provocation."

It was Nellik and Wardan's turn to share a worried glance. "You just ... frightened them off?"

"After killing one of them, yes," Kra admitted.

"That doesn't sound like them at all," Nellik said, stroking his chin. "What did you do?"

"Kra be very scary," Bink said. "Fall from sky like rock, then jump up and bite one when they get close!"

"These are fanatics," Nellik reasoned. "Nothing short of their calling could sway them from their purpose."

A feeling of dread washed over Kra. "They did mention a prophecy that warned of a stone dragon before they ran off."

The three raiders stared at him for a moment. Kra shifted his paws under him.

"I don't think that's coincidence," Wardan said. "You told me earlier that dragons exile their Gifted ..."

"I am not Gifted, I am Twisted."

"What?" Rilea and Nellik said at the same time.

"Call it what you will, but you survived," Wardan continued. "This curse they put on you should have killed you long ago, but you lived. There might be something to that."

Kra growled. "I survived because the Mother allowed, no other reason. I am on borrowed time, and that time is precious to me."

"It might save us all," Wardan told him, looking him in the eye. "These Destructors are threatening all of Drakvald, and if they are afraid of you, that gives us a chance to fight back."

Kra tried to look away. This was exactly the opposite of what he wanted. He ended up just looking into Rilea's blindfolded visage, as she peered at him with curiosity.

"Kra, why did you come to Drakvald?" Rilea asked.

"To survive, nothing more."

"Those people that you scared away will not go away if you ignore them. They will return someday with more, and you will not survive then," she warned.  "We came here to find where they are hiding, but with you we might accomplish so much more."

"The only thing that follows me is death."

"And Bink," the goblin put in.

"Bink is wise," Rilea smiled.  "I can tell even now that you are more powerful than we have seen, and that is saying something."

If only they knew, Kra thought, they would not want me. They would flee, and rightly so.

We will show them, if that's what you want...

      

We will show you too, Tyradus...

There's nothing to fear...

Before Kra could exclaim in fear, something crumbled near the back, causing a splash in the pool. Rilea stood up to examine the back of the room, and Kra tried to block her path with a paw. Rilea regarded him curiously.

"Please no, don't go back there, it could kill you," he told her, fear tinging his voice.

She was about to question him again when her features contorted curiously, facing the back of the cave with her nose in the air.  She looked back at Kra, her eyebrows raised in a mix of surprise and awe. "Do I smell flowers?"

"It's ... not what it seems," Kra tried to explain.

"How could there be flowers here? It's all stone!" Grif said. 

"Kra, let me look," Rilea said. "I promise we will be fine."

"You don't understand," Kra said desperately, but she expertly hopped over his warding paw. She knelt over by his pond, as if to pick something up.

"You say you are followed by death, but that's so far from the truth. Even the water comes to you, Kra." Rilea turned to face him, holding up a tiny white flower, one of the many that had suddenly and forcibly surfaced at the edge of the water. "No wonder you are feared by those who worship death, your Gift brings life."

Kra shook his head. "They are dangerous, they bring the plants and kill ... it always happens. Bink saw it tear his tribe apart, tell them!"

"Bink, is this true?" Rilea asked.

Bink nodded, hesitantly.  "But we attacked Kra, hunted him.  I no attack him, they don't attack Bink."

Rilea smiled a disconcertingly confident smile. Kra wanted to refute the goblin's words, but realization dawned on him that there was nothing he could say. Bink was right, he was never harmed by the plants. In truth he had only seen one of the other goblins actually die. Had he feared them so long that he did not understand that they protected him?

"You poor thing," Rilea said, putting a hand on his stony face, "you don't control it, do you? Your Gift runs rampant, and you just have to watch as it all unfolds around you, helpless to change it."

The dragon drew himself up away from her, glaring. "What would you know of my curse?"

Rilea reached up and removed her blindfold. Wardan moved to stop her, but it was too late. Kra had a brief look at her silver eyes before blood started to run down her face like tears, seeping from the corners of her eyes.  The smell of her blood was the saddest thing Kra had ever smelled.

"We're more alike than you thought, wouldn't you say?" She said, closing her eyes. She slowly wrapped her sackcloth strap back around her eyes as Kra let the realization dawn on him. "Like it or not, it is your Gift. It may harm you but it may also save you. I don't know if it's true that you can stop these despoilers, but they seem to know more about your power than you do. Come with us, we head out tomorrow for Black Needles. There might be something out there for you."

"Strange, you call them despoilers." Kra's eyes narrowed. "Do you dream of the trees, and the sun?"

She nodded. "We will never see that happen if they get their way."

Kra considered her a moment longer. He then stood up, and made his way to the cave entrance. He looked up to the swirling clouds above, trying to imagine what the sky would look like without them. He looked back into the crowded cave where five eager faces awaited his words.

"Bink, this home is no longer safe, wouldn't you say?"

Bink processed his words a moment, then nodded. "Bad humans could come back."

Kra's head lilted to one side listlessly. "I think might find a new place to live out in Black Needles."

Bink grinned, catching on. "But how we get there?"

Kra turned back to Wardan, who wore a knowing smile. "Do you think you could show us the way?"

"For saving my life? The least I could do."

*********

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