Twinsoul, Chapter 9

Chapter 9: Reasons

                          

Evandel woke to a tingling, tightening feeling in his chest.  He attempted to open his eyes, but all he saw was a dim blur.  He drew great gulps of air, finding it harder to breathe than he remembered.  He sat up quickly – wherever he was, it was nice and warm – and coughed hard, trying to expel what was causing his pain.

“Don’t fight it, boy,” a voice said, firm and easy at the same time.  “Just relax and let the potion do its work.”

“I . . . I think I swallowed wrong,” he rasped.          

The speaker chuckled.  “It will still work, regardless.  Just give it a chance.”

Evandel did as he was told, easing back down and calming his breathing patterns.  He felt the tingle subside, and the potion’s grip on his lungs waned.  He took a deep breath, and sat back up. His vision slowly came into focus as the magic did its work.  The first thing he could make out was a light blue crystal suspended by a chain from a fixture on the wall, one of several such fixtures lining the room.  He was up against a wall on his left, and to the right a table and chairs in the corner.  He was sitting up on a comfortingly firm cot, still in his traveling gear, save for his boots.

Sitting in one of the chairs, drawn close to the bed, was a willowy figure, dressed in white robes trimmed in green.  Already Evandel could see the face that went with those robes he remembered so well.  Delicate, fine elven features framed by golden hair and brilliant emerald eyes. 

“Master Eltanor,” Evandel said, smiling.

“Well met, Deepseeker,” the elven master said.  “That was the fifth of those potions I’ve given you, over three days.  I am told you handled yourself well in your first real mage duel.”

“What am I doing here in Solreth?” Evandel asked, scrambling up from the bed.  “How did I . . . where are my friends?  What happened to Varcor?”

“Calm down, young fool,” Eltanor told him firmly.  “Patience is the path to knowledge, as you have been taught.”

Evandel nodded, and sat back down again.

“That’s better.  Your friends are fine.  Your female friend is already awake, not two hours before you.” 

“What about Bargo?”

Eltanor blinked.  “The knight?  There was nothing wrong with him, I assure you.”

“But he was surrounded,” Evandel pressed.

Eltanor shrugged.  “Everyone who came with you is fine now, though I was told that you had more friends when you left home.”

Evandel cringed, and felt a pang of guilt inside.  “That’s true.  I left the Cavern of Crystal with one less than I entered with.”

“You need not speak more of it.  As I have been told, there was nothing you could have done.  I would imagine that you have a clearer idea of how dangerous this mission is now, but I feel that you hardly need to be told that.”

“But how did I get here?” Evandel asked.  “Solreth is very far from the gnoll hills.  Did you bring me here?”

“Why would I have done that?” Eltanor said sharply.  “I had no reason to survey your actions, Deepseeker.  You are no longer my charge, and I have other students now.”

“Of course,” Evandel said, feeling silly for even thinking of it.

“In answer to your question, you were brought here by a mutual friend of ours.”

“Who?”

“He is waiting for you outside, why don’t you go and greet him?” Eltanor motioned toward the door, then looked back to his student.  “That is, if you are feeling better.”

Evandel’s curiosity overpowered his need to rest further, and he got to his feet, walking shakily out of the room.

“Forgetting something?”

Evandel looked back, and saw his old master holding his staff.  He almost shouted in surprise when he saw that the crystal on top of his staff was missing.

“Where’s the crystal gone?” he asked.

“According to your knight friend, it was in a thousand pieces.  Whatever magic you used to defeat your opponent must have caused it to shatter.” Eltanor’s eyes became disapproving.  “It would seem that you haven’t quite learned not to over-focus.”

Evandel sighed.  “Will you never forgive me for that incident?”

“Perhaps when the toes of my left foot are no longer numb,” Eltanor’s said, smirking wryly.  “Go, see your friends.  You’ll find them in the Great Hall.”

Evandel nodded respectfully, and took his staff from his old teacher.  Without hesitation he went from the room, intent on seeing his companions again.

Along the way, the young sorcerer found himself once again admiring the architecture of the interior of Solreth.  The outside was a castle in form, stark, stout, and imposing.  Each of the three buildings within the campus’ walls seemed identical in structure apart from size, but once you were inside one you knew where you were. 

The main building, Archtower, where the library and all classrooms were found seemed like a palace, with crystal inlaid pillars and tall pointed archways in the halls.  The rooms were lit by glowing crystals fixed to the wall and hung from the ceiling with ornate chandeliers and mountings.  The floor was dressed in fine red carpet, and the walls seemed coated in silver.  The whole of the interior seemed flowing and lightweight, as though suspended in the air.

The infirmary where he had woken up had been on the second floor of the main tower, and connected only to the outer halls of the complex, where most of the classrooms were.  The third floor held the laboratories and the fourth kept the library.  The only way into the first floor of the main tower was through the Great Hall.

The Great Hall of the Archtower was really as impressive as its name suggested.  A cathedral ceiling, stained glass windows, and a beautiful glass fountain made certain that this room would be the first thing anyone remembered about Solreth.  Its size also made it suitable for school assemblies and other such functions, and doubled as the school’s visitor’s center for those rare occasions when someone was allowed to visit.  Across from the main entrance were the double doors that led to the first floor of the main tower, the quarters of the Secondmaster.

Evandel scanned the vast, round room for his friends, and found them seated at the benches surrounding the glass fountain, joined by a great white horse with a long, windswept mane.

“Good of you to join us, Deepseeker,” Poerna said, his eyes smiling.

“Poerna!” Evandel said, delighted.  He rushed over to his friends, surveying their conditions as he did.  Bargo seemed fine save for rips and cuts on his tunic, but Deida had one arm in a sling and bandages on her knee and head.

“Finally awake!  I was getting worried!” Bargo said, standing up and clapping his friend on the shoulder.  Evandel nearly buckled, his legs not quite fully recovered, but smiled the entire time. 

Deida stood up and hugged her half-elf friend with her good arm, peering out from beneath a white linen crown.  “You must have really worn yourself out with that last spell.  It’s been three days since Poerna brought us here.”

“You three are lucky I came when I did,” Poerna told them.  “There were no less than two gnoll camps nearby where I found you.  If they had patrols, you would have been found very easily.”

“But how did we get away?” Evandel asked.  “I barely remember the spell I cast, so I could not say whether it even hit Varcor or not.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Bargo said in disbelief.  “You cleared the entire camp with that light!”

“Light?” Evandel said, half remembering the golden energy pouring out of his hands.  “It must have been the Sun Symbol,” he said after a moment’s thought.

“What do you mean?” Deida asked.

“People only have one principle, right?” Evandel explained.  “It’s nearly impossible for them to use any other kind of magic.  I couldn’t use air magic and you couldn’t use earth magic, for example.” 

“Come to think of it, I’ve never seen you cast a spell like that,” Deida said, rubbing her bandaged shoulder.  “You think the Sun Symbol gave you power over light magic?”

Evandel nodded.  “It would take something as powerful as an artifact to give someone power over another principle.  Something like that is unheard of.”

“Not unheard of,” Poerna stated.  The three friends turned to look at the wind horse questioningly.  “Long ago, there was a human sorceress named Illintra the Severed Soul.  She was afflicted shortly after birth with an illness that caused her mind to split into two personas.  She was an exception to others with this affliction in that when one personality was manifest she was a water principle, and when the other was active she was a fire principle.”

“What?” Evandel said.  His brow furrowed as he processed this information, shaking his head.  “That’s supposed to be impossible.”

“Yeah,” Bargo put in, his arms crossed.  “Even I know that someone can only resonate spiritually to one element.  That’s why it’s called a principle.”

Poerna chuckled.  “I know; that is what made Illintra so special.  Most say it was because of her split personality that she was able to become what she was, but others have theorized that her soul must have had the potential to wield fire and water before the disease broke her mind.”

“What are you saying, Po?” Bargo said.  “Is Ev like this Severed Soul lady?”

Poerna didn’t answer, but looked intently at the far side of the hall, beyond the fountain to the double doors.

“Where does that go, Ev?” Deida asked.

“The Secondmaster’s quarters,” Evandel answered.  “I only visited there once, after I froze Master Eltanor’s foot.”

“You actually did that?” Poerna said, distracted.  “I thought he was joking.”

“What about the Headmaster?” Deida said.

“I didn’t get to look around, but it looked to be just him in there.”  Evandel looked to Poerna.  “You’re saying Secondmaster Arcael has this knowledge?”

“Go in and see him, he’s waiting for you,” Poerna told him.  He then looked to Deida and Bargo.  “Why don’t you go and fetch some food from the mess hall for Deepseeker?  I would assume he’s hungry by now.”

Deida nodded, putting a reassuring hand on Bargo’s shoulder.  The tall man shrugged and started toward the main door with her, giving Evandel one final look as they left.

Evandel came up to the doors of the first floor, and peered over his shoulder at the wind horse behind him.  Poerna’s eyes urged him to go forward, and Evandel steeled himself for whatever might lie ahead.

Inside the Secondmaster’s quarters was just how Evandel remembered it.  Shelves kept in perfect meticulous order lined the walls, stocked with books, potions, wands, staves, herbs, scrolls, and many more devices that Evandel couldn’t even identify.  The carpeted floor bore a simple, elegant design, and the room felt mostly empty, save for the far side.  Three chairs, evenly spaced, stood in front of a monumental desk, organized by the nature of the objects that sat on top, with alchemical apparatus on the far left and mechanical devices on the right. 

Sitting on the far side of the desk, hardly able to rest his hands in front of him on the table-like desk, was a hawk faced, eagle eyed gnome, with stark white hair and sideburns, and brown eyes that bore all the knowledge of the ancient stone.

“Evandel of Tyhal,” Secondmaster Arcael addressed in his stern, squeaky voice.  “You’re late.”

“My apologies, Secondmaster,” Evandel said quickly, giving a short bow.  “I was unaware of your request.”

The Secondmaster stood up in his chair, and walked down the center of the table, kept clear for this very reason.  He took a pensive stance, stroking the tuft of white beard on his chin.  “However, you were also unconscious when I requested your presence. I suppose that’s as good an excuse as any. Well, that’s not what’s important.”

“Thank you, Secondmaster,” Evandel said.  “Why have you requested my presence?”

“I asked for your presence only on behalf of the Headmaster,” Arcael said.  “He wants to see you as soon as humanly or elvenly possible.”

Evandel felt his throat tighten and his face drain.  In all his years at Solreth, no one had been accorded the honor – or horror – of meeting the Headmaster.  No student had ever seen him, as his only presence in the school was through the Secondmaster.  The teachers did not speak of him, to the students or to each other, as though he could be listening in on what they might say.  Evandel was fairly sure he never even heard his name or what his race was.

“Is something the matter, Evandel?” Arcael said, looking at him curiously, one furry eyebrow arched high.

“No sir,” Evandel said, trying to steady his breathing.  “I am honored to be able to meet the Headmaster.”

Arcael nodded.  “Very well, you’ll find his quarters below.”

Evandel blinked.  “Below?”

Arcael said nothing, but climbed off his desk over to the shelves, where he grabbed a blue and silver scepter off of its mounting.  The moment he did, the desk in front of Evandel shuddered, knocking over several empty potion bottles.  The massive table-desk levitated on its own, until its contents brushed against the ceiling.  In its shadow, a large hatch was visible, just small enough to be concealed by the massive desk.  The Secondmaster waved the scepter and the hatch opened revealing a spiraling staircase that sank forever into the darkness. 

Arcael handed the scepter to Evandel, and waved his hand over the top.  A bright light sprang forth from the empty sconce on top, and the white haired gnome motioned briskly to the stairs.

“Do not tarry, for until you return all the equipment I need to do my work will be on the ceiling.”

Evandel nodded, unable to make his words work for him.  Tentatively, he began to descend the staircase, and soon enough he could barely see the light from the crystals in the Secondmaster’s chambers.

The air grew damp as he continued downward, as though a great source of water was nearby.  Given that the grounds of Solreth were practically on top of a lake, this was hardly so odd. The smell of wet masonry and green life greeted his nose as he stepped onto the floor at the bottom of the stairs.  From the light of his scepter, he could see all kinds of lichen and mosses growing on the walls and floor.  A great archway opened up part of the cylindrical room to a hallway, which had long veins of luminous fungi lighting the walls.  At the end of this hall stood a door with a light coming from behind, clearly the door to the Headmaster’s chambers.  It was nothing more than a simple wooden door, but it frightened Evandel more than anything he had encountered so far.  He knew where he stood with gnolls and malfunctioning constructs, but he couldn’t even begin to expect what was beyond this simple door.

He decided to knock first, not knowing if he was meant to come right in or to follow some sort of protocol.  He rapped once on the wood hesitantly, then twice more a little more confidently.  He kept telling himself that he would soon have some of the answers he sought, that perhaps all that happened in the past few weeks would finally make sense.  But his heart still beat forcefully in his chest, and his hands seemed to quiver if he didn’t curl them into fists.

At first he heard nothing, just the drip of water from the ceiling.  Then a loud sound as though a battering ram crashed into the wall nearly shook Evandel from his feet.  This was followed quickly by what he could only assume was the growling roar of some beast.

“Headmaster?” Evandel called out, moving closer to the door.  “Are you alright?”

The growl suddenly became a more humanlike voice, albeit deeper and significantly louder.  “Yes, who’s there?”

“I am Evandel, sir,” Evandel said, stopping himself before he bowed to the door.

“Oh!  Oh my, I must have dozed off…” the voice trailed away, and Evandel heard a rumbling of what sounded like grating stone.  “Where are you, boy?”

“Outside the door,” Evandel said.

There was a pause, and the voice chuckled.  “Well, don’t just stand out there, come in here!”

Evandel had to force his hand steady to wrap it around the door handle, and had to muster all of his courage before he pushed the door open.  He did not want his first and probably last meeting with the Headmaster to begin with him shaking like an apprentice casting his first spell.

This no longer became a problem, for as soon as he opened the door no thoughts of movement could replace his terror.

The door revealed a cavernous, blue stone room, lit by a magnificent chandelier.  The room was domed and held up by six gargantuan stone pillars.  The walls were covered by carvings that seemed to shift in the light.  This was all easily more impressive than the Great Hall, but the most incredible thing he had ever seen sat in the center of the breathtaking room.

A dragon of bronze scales and ocean blue eyes sat very properly in the middle of the pillars, wings folded and a gentle smile on his face.

“What were you expecting?” he said, his deep voice full of humor.  “I’ll bet it wasn’t this!”

“Y…You’re the headmaster?” Evandel managed to stutter when he finally found his voice.

“I bet now you understand why I never show up at school assemblies,” the great bronze dragon in the middle of the room said, smirking.  “Of course, other than the logistics of actually entering the great hall, I would probably have all the first years looking just like you are right about now.”

Evandel did his best to compose himself, and managed to look the huge creature right in the eye, and with a steady voice and short bow, say, “I’ve come as you requested, Headmaster.”

The big dragon nodded.  “Yes, and much faster than I had thought you’d make it.”

Evandel blinked.  “I was told you ordered me to come as soon as I got here.”

“And here you are.”

“But I’ve been unconscious since I was brought here three days ago.”

The dragon paused, his face twisted in confusion for a moment, but then something dawned on his features.  “My, but that was a long nap.”

“Did I wake you?” Evandel asked, a picture forming in his mind of the big dragon hitting his head against a pillar when he opened the door.

“Yes, well, you were sleeping too,” the dragon said, almost defensively.

“I over focused a spell using energy not of my principle,” Evandel said slyly, “what’s your excuse?”

“Let’s see how long you stay awake at one hundred and fifty!” the dragon retorted huffily, and Evandel laughed.  The dragon smiled again.  “I guess you’ve loosened up a little, then?”

Evandel started to answer, but stopped as it dawned on him that he was conversing lightly with a reptile large enough to eat him whole.  It occurred to him how wonderfully personable this dragon seemed to be, and how very contrary that was to how he had previously understood dragons.

“Yes, I suppose I have,” he answered. 

“Good!  This will be much easier if you know I don’t intend to eat you.”  The dragon laid himself down on his side, taking a more rested position.  “I understand you have some questions for me, Deepseeker?”

Evandel started to say something, but his nickname caught him off guard.  “How do you …”

“Know that name?” the dragon grinned.  “We’ll get to that later, as it is not as pressing as your other inquiries.”

Evandel eyed him curiously.   As far as he knew, only Poerna, his mother, and Master Eltanor knew that name.  But Evandel nodded, knowing that there were indeed more urgent at hand.  “Yes, Headmaster.”

“Mychaelos,” the dragon said.  Evandel looked at him curiously, and he said, “Arcael must call me Headmaster, but you are more like Eltanor.  I would like you to use my true name.”

“Eltanor uses your true name?” Evandel asked, his eyes wide.

Mychaelos nodded.  “It’s his prerogative.  He is older than I am after all.”

The half-elf was surprised at first, but it wasn’t too farfetched to believe.  Mychaelos admitted to being one hundred and fifty, relatively young for a dragon, and not even middle age for an elf.  It was entirely possible that Eltanor was older than this dragon.  “I see.”

“While you might not be older . . . let’s just say that you outrank me in other respects for now.”

“I think I’m ready to start asking questions,” Evandel said, somewhat irritated.  “After all, you seem determined to make me ask them.”

“As you wish,” Mychaelos chuckled. 

“Let’s start with something simple,” Evandel said.  “How did you know I wanted to ask you questions?”

“You told me, didn’t you?” Mychaelos asked.  When Evandel shook his head, the big dragon sighed, and leaned his head on his front paw.  “Fair enough, you catch on well.  You have met those whose auras allow them to see things that are not before them.  I believe your mother’s aura is a derivative of this skill, no?  Well, I am blessed with a similar skill, only instead of seeing past distances, I can see through time.”

“You’re a Seer?”

“Yes.  Some find this gift to be extremely rare, but I maintain that the future and the past are already before us, and only patience will reveal what is truly to come.  What I see are the ultimate ends of the paths we choose to take.”

“So this gift is limited to what happens at the time?”

Mychaelos looked thoughtful.  “Yes and no.  I suppose that the happenings of the present are always affecting the future, but there are some things that are inevitable, that only a cataclysm of enormous proportions could alter.”

Evandel considered this.  “I believe I understand.  You see the possibilities of these inevitable events and use them to see how they affect the Winding Paths.”

“You are possessed of more cognitive skill than most,” Mychaelos beamed.  “It’s rather difficult thing to understand.  Though that is not the entirety of the process – and I don’t think even I could give you that – you seem to have the gist of it.”

“Thank you,” Evandel said.  “Now for a tougher one.  What exactly is the Prophecy of Unity?  I was informed of the bare bones of it, but I wish to know more about it.”

Mychaelos appeared concerned for a moment.  “You do not know?  No one has ever told you?”  He stopped himself, then calmly nodded.  “Yes, I see.  No one else knew for certain.  Indeed, how many truly know?” 

“Headmaster?”  Evandel asked, not understanding his distress.

“Never mind that now, my boy,” Mychaelos said, sitting up once again and clearing his throat.  “I had hoped that someone would have explained it better before you met me, but I see now that things were never clear to anyone about who you really are.  You are in luck, however, for you will now learn of the Prophecy from its source.”  He waved a claw toward the walls of the chamber, indicating the pictographs and runes upon it. 

“This is the Prophecy?” Evandel walked up to the wall, placing his hand to the carvings, feeling the time worn edges.  One look at the runes told him that it was written in none of the mortal languages.  “I cannot read this, these runes are unfamiliar.”

“Well you’ll just have to follow along with the pictures,” Mychaelos said, and waved his claw once more.  The runes and carvings began to glow with a soft white light.  “In order to understand any story, you need to start from the beginning.  The tale begins with the Betrayer, four thousand years ago:

"Among the utmost of heroes was Jaredon, born of Vainemar.  He was granted the powers of a dragon when he was very young to give them a voice among the other peoples of the world.  Due to his great strength, he became the first of the Knight Errants early in life, serving under the first of the Valora kings.  He and his company won many battles, and no foe went undefeated.

In his travels, he discovered that the dragons he represented were hoarding the power of magic from the rest of the world, keeping it in the Prosperi Crystal, only sharing it with the ones they deemed worthy.  He petitioned his lords, saying that the gods had meant for this power to belong to everyone.  The dragons refused, claiming that the younger races did not have the discipline required to wield magic properly.  In his outrage, he destroyed the crystal, declaring that no one would defy the plans of the gods.  With no place for the released magic to go, the energies were absorbed into the air, the earth, and the water, spreading far and wide.  Soon all life became infused with this power, becoming what is now known as aura magic.

However, not all of the gods were happy with Jaredon’s decision.  Because magic was no longer as powerful as it once was, Ordanos, the god of darkness and keeper of magic, had his power considerably weakened by this man’s rash behavior.  The oldest of the gods released a terrible monster upon the world, solely to destroy the one called a hero.  Jaredon, now infused with both dragon magic and aura magic, destroyed the creature with but one word, unmaking it completely. 

Enraged, Ordanos descended upon Kayledon, intent on destroying the World Hero.  But even the might of a god could not stop Jaredon, and after a terrible battle that left the land in ruins, he declared that the greed of the god of darkness made him unfit for godhood, and struck him a mortal blow.  Before his end, Ordanos told Jaredon that he was now a betrayer of the gods, and that his betrayal was worse a crime than anything perpetrated by the dragons.  The god of magic banished the World Hero to a shadowy prison plane, to serve as a punishment and to save the world from the terror that Jaredon had become. 

From his blackened cell, the hero besought the other gods for their intervention, claiming he strove only to do their work.  But out of fear, anger, or in the name of balance, the gods and goddesses denied his plea.  Anger consumed Jaredon, twisting his form with the darkness around him.  All he fought to protect had betrayed him.  His powers grew with time, and soon he created new beings, and called them demonica, from the ancient term for chaos.  He who had once done the gods work now sought to destroy that which they had created, to corrupt the world to his own vision of perfection.  He named himself Jarexellion, from the ancient word for absolute, and his home the Darkplane, the home of demons."

“What?” Evandel exclaimed.  “This Jaredon made the Darkplane?”

“And everything in it,” Mychaelos said frowning.  “He is far more powerful than anyone knows; even the demons he created do not know exactly what he is.  The balance he disrupted has never been repaired.”

“What does this being have to do with the Prophecy of Unity?” Evandel asked, fearful of the answer.

“I’m getting to that,” Mychaelos reassured him.  “The next part of this tale comes almost four millennia later, with the Deceived. 

"Jarexellion and his brood were trapped in the prison plane, but that could not stop a being such as he from watching and affecting the mortal world.  The Master of the Chaos Children needed only for someone to open a way to his home, then he could return to implement his dark plans.  However, the power of magic had waned with the shattering of the Prosperi Crystal, and no one had the magical might to open such a doorway.  So in the dark he waited, biding his time and marshalling his forces.  Demons grew in power and numbers, some even claiming lordship over parts of Jarexellion’s prison.  The fallen hero made no attempt to stop them, knowing that the best minions were the ones that thought they had power.

Ages passed, and the world – and the magic that now bound it – was healing once again.  Jarexellion knew his time was coming, and searched for a powerful wielder of magic.  The dark king found what he was looking for, a sorceress with incredible magical potential.  This was to be the bringer of the Demon Horde.

Through observation, the wicked Jarexellion found the one the sorceress most loved, and poisoned him with darkness.  He watched as they fought desperately to stop the curse magic over many long, torturous months, but the power of the Demonfather could not be undone, and the sorceress’ lover died.  In trying to defeat the curse, her magic – her mind – came into contact with the Fallen Hero’s influence.  Evil Jarexellion then leaned down and whispered to the sorceress’ id, implanting dreams of resurrection, filling her subconscious with lies.  In her grief wracked state, she was more than susceptible to the dark little voice in her mind. 

The more she searched for the power to bring back her beloved, the more she was blind to the plans of the corrupted hero.  He made her believe that the strange darkness which took her lover held him still, that he could be reached on the Darkplane.  But when she tried to open the portal, Jarexellion seized her spell, forcing open several gates on the plane and sending forth his children, and the sorceress could only watch in horror.  But before Jarexellion himself could come through the gate, another hero, Crovas of Faarthusia, managed to close the gate.  The damage was done, but Jarexellion would have to wait for his return."

“I get it,” Evandel said.  “That’s how the Horde appeared in many places at once from just one portal.”

Mychaelos nodded again.  “As you probably know, it was also Crovas Voldur who started the first mass counter attack against the demons, and he knew where to go from being with the sorceress when she tried to open the gate.”

“But how does Unity fit into this?” Evandel asked.

“Unity was the name of a band of twelve individuals, six heroes and six guardians, some of which you have had contact with.  They were the leaders of the battle against the Horde, each powerful in their own right.  They are described in the Valiant."

"With the surge of evil into the world the powers of good rose to the challenge.  The paladin Warrane sought out others of great stature to stand with him against the Demon Horde.  Crovas Voldur, king of the orcs was the first to join him on his mission, an outstanding warrior as well as a fire master.  The archer, Kathil, came to him from Shae’Ildarae, carrying the hopes of the elves with him. Harog, the humble dwarven smith, traveled to him from the Underkingdom of Urdor.  In Vainemar he found the Master Burglar Quinn, founder of the Glory Seekers, willing to lend his talents to the fight.  Illintra the Severed Soul, a sorceress of unique power, was also willing to aid his endeavors. 

Not just the civilized peoples of the world were prepared to help stop the demons.  The Red Lady and the Farseer, two true dragons, offered their assistance to the paladin, as well as Borody, the stone giant.  Of the noble asperi came Poerna, who served for the time as Warrane’s sacred companion.  Azastica the rainbow serpent came to them from distant lands, wishing to quell the demonic threat before it could spread.   Even a demon, Lyxas the nightmare, joined their cause out of revenge.

Together, they made their way to the stronghold of the one demon lord who made it through the gate, ironically one of the only ones that knew of Jarexellion’s true powers and intentions.  Azastica was able to read the demon’s mind before he was vanquished and warn them of the true threat.  The Farseer looked forward in time and discovered what became known as the Prophecy of Unity.

One day, another would indeed open the gates to the Darkplane once more, but the Twinsouls, two beings of balance, would come to the world of Kayledon to counteract the darkness.  They would assume the forms of mortal children, to be granted and inspired by the gods who sponsored their stay in this realm.  One would be chosen of Taelri, the Deepseeker, and the other of Faarthus, the Flamesoul, and both would bear the mark of their sponsored gods.  Once together again, they, and those who stood with them, would be all that stood in the path of Jarexellion.

The rest of Unity decided that they would aid the Twinsouls and their allies, who would save their world as they had.  Knowing that time would take most of them, they put a portion of their power in to artifacts crafted by Harog.  These precious items were entrusted to the guardians, the six immortal beast heroes of Kayledon.  Only the chosen ones would be granted these relics during the approach of darkness."

Evandel fought hard to remember to draw breath.  His mind worked furiously, putting pieces together that finally fit.  He tried to focus his vision, but his eyes would not relax.  He clenched his staff tightly, feeling more alone in the world than he ever had.

“This is . . . who I am?” Evandel said after a long silence. 

“Yes, Deepseeker,” Mychaelos smiled softly.  “I cannot tell you how happy I am to finally speak with you, Favored of Taelri.  From the moment I first found you, I knew that you were above and beyond what I had expected.”

“You are the Farseer, then?” he asked.  “You’re a guardian?”  The big dragon nodded.  “I see.  You wrote the Prophecy of Unity, and took a position that would best allow you to find the Twinsouls.”

“And people say I have insight,” Mychaelos chuckled.  “Not difficult to expect from one blessed by the goddess of knowledge.”

Evandel took a deep breath, and touched the back of his right hand, tracing the eye in the crystal with his middle finger.  “I knew I was different, but . . .”

“What is it?” the dragon asked.

“What does it mean, a ‘being of balance’?  I wasn’t orphaned as a child?  Did I simply appear out of nowhere?” Evandel said, his clarity driving his frustration.  “What am I?”

“Does it matter?”  The beast before him asked bluntly.  Evandel leveled a questioning glare at him.  “If I was able to explain what the Twinsouls are, what would you do differently?”

Evandel paused, unsure of what to say.  In his heart, he knew that nothing would change, but he wanted to know the truth.  In the end, he lowered his head and said nothing.

Mychaelos sighed, putting his other paw up to cradle his head and furrowing his brow.  “In all fairness, no one knows exactly what the Twinsouls are, just that they came from a distant realm to maintain an indescribable cosmic balance.  When you are reunited with your brother, you will become more powerful than anything else, rivaling the might of even Jarexellion.  That is all I know about Twinsoul.

“But it is not all I know about you.”  Mychaelos said, fixing him with a knowing look.  Evandel raised his head again, curious.   “I could tell you who you really are, but you should already know.”

“I don’t understand,” Evandel said.

“You have done the work of good ever since you arrived here,” the dragon explained.  “When you came to Siali of Tyhal, you filled an empty part of her life she thought she would never fill.  You were a friend to those who were outcast as you were.  You became a sorcerer of Solreth, accomplished through your own power.  And lastly, because of your unique existence, you saved many people in your village from the corrupt energy at the Festival of Dawn’s Blessing.  You truly are something incredible, above and beyond what you must be, a real hero.”

Evandel’s heart swelled to hear those words.  Without realizing it, he had already done things that not many people – and in some cases, no one else – could do.  He had not thought it much at the time, but how would things have turned out had he not been there? 

“I can’t say that I knew that already,” Evandel said, but the dragon pointed at him with a claw that was easily as long as a large sword, silencing him.

“There’s no need to be modest,” Mychaelos grinned.  “You know just how honorable you really are.  Why else would a knight errant, a Kathilasi, and a distinguished treasure hunter be willing to give you their aid?  You’ve earned this title already, and you haven’t even saved the world.”

Evandel waved his hand dismissively, blushing.  “Alright already, I get it.  But there are some other questions that still need answering.”

Mychaelos nodded in deference.  “As you wish.”

“Poerna told me just before I came here of Illintra, and how she and I have two auras.  He said you could explain it?”

“Ah, of course.  You are a water principle, but you were able to tap into the Sun Symbol’s holy power.  This is because you possess a dual principle, just as Illintra, but under different circumstances.”

“Yes, Poerna told me a disease split her mind and aura in two.”

Mychaelos arched and eyebrow.  “Did he?  Well, tell him he was wrong.”

Evandel balked at those words.

“Illintra was born with two auras, but they manifested at the same time, and that was too much strain for her mind,” he explained calmly to Evandel’s surprised expression.  “It was her aura that broke her mind, though Warrane was able to heal her shattered psyche.  Though rare, it is entirely possible for one to have a dual aura.”

“So why didn’t I go crazy when my second aura manifested?”  Evandel asked.

“That would be because you have always had two auras, due to your nature as a Twinsoul and chosen of Taelri.”  Evandel’s silence prompted him to continue.  “It is my belief that you are the half of the Twinsoul that is linked to light, and as you are favored by Taelri, you have water magic also tied to your being.  Therefore, you are adept at mastering both principles, and your mind subconsciously chose the easier of the two auras to master first.”

“Why isn’t this information part of the regular curriculum?” Evandel said, flustered.  “That would have explained a lot earlier.”

The dragon laughed, the deep booming sound echoing around the relatively small chamber.  “Is that an earnest question?” he said when his mirth subsided.

Evandel shook his head.  “No, but I would like to ask about the prophecy again.”

“Oh?” Mychaelos looked confused. “I thought I explained it quite well.”

“Yes, but I just want to know, how much of that prophecy is known to those who know it?”

Mychaelos settled back.  “Very few actually know the whole story.  Most who know it know only that two chosen and their allies will save the world from great darkness.  You might call it the abridged prophecy.”

“But why the deception?”  Evandel asked.  “Why hide the Twinsouls?”

The dragon said nothing for a moment, just looked expectantly at the sorcerer.  “Are you sure you don’t know?  Not going to answer your own question?”

Evandel crossed his arms, about to give a sarcastic retort, but then ended up thinking about his question.  What made the Farseer hide the truth?

“Do you want a hint?” the dragon joked.

“If no one knew about Twinsoul,” Evandel said, unraveling the enigma in his mind, “then no one would suspect two orphans appearing out of nowhere . . . but why does that matter?”  He thought back to when he returned to his village, all the things he remembered when he saw his mother and his friends again.

At that moment, his thoughts clicked, the light of truth shining in his eyes.  He looked up to the dragon, who seemed to know what he was thinking.  Evandel smiled genuinely, as though joy had never found him before.  “You may have done more for us than all of Unity combined.”

“Just wait until you see some of their presents before you come to that conclusion,” Mychaelos said, smiling wryly.  Evandel started to explain himself, but the dragon held up a bronze paw.  “There’s no need to tell me, as long as you know why.”

Evandel nodded.  He felt a swelling of powerful energy inside him.  Nothing like magic, but a feeling of truth and purpose that brought justice to all that had happened to him in the past few weeks.  “I’m ready now,” he said.  “I owe it all to you.”  He bowed graciously, and turned to leave. 

The dragon cleared his throat, and Evandel turned around to see the dragon stand back up.  “I owe you more than you can ever know, Deepseeker.”  The bronze dragon started to approach the half-elf, and lifting his forelimb to his chest, and bowing humbly as a dragon can.  “I simply returned the favor you and your brother gave me.  But we are not done here.  You must come with me.”  He extended his bronze paw to the sorcerer.  “Climb on, and hold tight.”

Evandel did what he was told, stepping onto Mychaelos’ back and settling at the base of his serpentine neck.  Once he was comfortable, the bronze dragon’s paw reached up.  “Mind if I borrow your staff, Deepseeker?”  Evandel relinquished his weapon, his staff now looking like a twig in Mychaelos’ grasp.  The dragon reached up to the base of the chandelier, and Evandel watched as he prodded the staff into the base for a few moments, as though searching for something.  Seeming to find the right spot, Mychaelos pushed the staff into the ceiling, completely out of view. 

“Excuse me,” Evandel spoke up.  “How do I get that back?”

“Without a crystal it was useless anyway, right?” Mychaelos offered.  “Besides, you’re about to get a new one.”

Before the sorcerer could reply, a rumbling sound of grating rock shook the entire room.  The floor in the center where Mychaelos had been laying opened up, revealing a dark pit of water beneath. 

“You can work your aura without a staff, yes?” the dragon asked.  Evandel nodded, remembering that some sorcerers became dependant on the crystal focus on their staves and their magic without it was much weaker.  “I don’t suppose you can breathe underwater, so you may want to fix that now.”

Evandel barely had time to gather the necessary energy for the spell before the bronze dragon dove into the shadowy pool.  He quickly channeled the power to his mouth, where any water that entered would be broken down into breathable air.  He tightened his grip as Mychaelos’ wings pumped, just as useful in water as in air.  The dragon spread his great claws, and Evandel could see a translucent webbing stretch in between the fingers.  Pushing now with both wings and paws, dragon and half-elf soared through a water-filled tunnel, finally bursting out of the cave and into open water. 

Still holding tight, Evandel peered around, taking in the surroundings.  Never would he have imagined the brilliant colors and beautiful creatures that lay beneath the water!  Fish of all sizes, shapes and colors scattered before the approaching pair, and long, shimmering grasses waved about in the dragon’s wake.  Evandel had to wonder if they had somehow entered another world from the cave.

Evandel looked up, seeing the sunlight glittering above him, reflected by a dozen watery shards of glass.  It dawned on him then, they were beneath the lake north of Solreth, speeding toward the center.  But to Evandel’s knowledge, the center of the lake held a ruined old library, supposedly haunted.

Evandel felt the pressure change, and realized they were nearing the lake’s surface.  With a rush and a roar of water, air and light, they broke the surface, just high enough that his wings were above the water level, leaving Evandel about chest deep. Mychaelos shook his head roughly, spraying water everywhere.

They were at the middle now, in front of a broken shell of a building that seemed to float on the water’s surface.  It had probably once been a great tower, but now the top was shattered and broken, leaving whatever was inside exposed to the elements.  Around the outside was a staircase, spiraling from the base of the tower to the top.

“What caused this place to become ruined?” Evandel asked.

Mychaelos grinned over his shoulder.  “Nothing.  This is how it’s supposed to look.” 

Evandel looked at him shrewdly.  “You keep something here, don’t you?”

Mychaelos said nothing, just swam over to the stairs, prompting Evandel to start climbing.  As soon as he got off, Mychaelos dove back underwater.  Shaking his head at the dragon’s games, he began climbing the stairs.  At the top, he found nothing but an empty hole, going far beneath the water’s surface.  He surmised that the appearance of the tower floating on the water was merely an illusion, and that it went farther down than he realized. 

Coming to that conclusion, it was with incredible trepidation that he stepped off the stairway and plummeted into the darkness.

A great blast of air rushed up to greet him, slowing his fall and steadying his descent.  Evandel breathed a sigh of relief, glad that he was right but at the same time ready to pelt Mychaelos with hail the size of an ogre’s fist for not telling him what to expect.

He slowly dropped through the length of the tower, into what appeared to be an underwater cave much like the hall before the chamber where he met Mychaelos, but lit with crystals instead of glowing fungus. 

His jaw dropped when he saw the floor was covered with more treasure than he had seen before in one place.  Most of it was gold, giant piles of coins from which protruded all manner of jewelry and artwork, full suits of armor, swords of every conceivable make and length, and, disconcertingly, the bones of those who did not survive the fall.

In one end of the cave was a sort of carved out series of shelves, housing a great store of books of varying size.  Opposite the books was a large pool, out of which stuck a beaming bronze dragon leaning on his paw.

“What do you think?” Mychaelos said, his deep voice surprisingly light.  He sounded almost like a child showing off his first copper piece to all his friends.  “I’m rather proud of it, especially my blade collection; it took a long time to build it into what it is.”

Evandel was almost convinced that the person before him was not who he came here with.  It seemed that just being near the treasure transformed the wise dragon into a giant, excitable hatchling.  “It’s incredible.”

“I knew you’d like it,” Mychaelos said, beaming brighter.  “You’re the first person to see this place in a very long time, and only one other person ever saw it.”

“I’d heard dragons collected treasure, but this exceeded what I expected,” Evandel said, looking around again.  A question popped into his mind, and it was so delightfully absurd he had to ask it.  “What do you need it for?”

The large dragon looked as though he had been stuck in the foot with a spear.  “I’ll have you know this hoard is the result of hard work and endless searching!  I’ve spent two thirds of my lifetime to get this far, and it is worth more than most people will ever see in their entire lifetimes!”

“But what is it for?” Evandel reiterated, not daunted by the dragon’s outburst.  “You apparently don’t spend it, and it seems like it would just attract visitors,” he gestured to the skeletons under the entrance, “so what does it do for you?”

Mychaelos stared for a long time at the insubordinate half-elf, and Evandel could almost see his mind working furiously behind his eyes.  The deep blue eyes lit up as he seemed to have found the answer: “Where else am I going to sleep?”

Evandel restrained his laughter and walked over to the pile with blades sticking out of it, mostly sticking upward and obviously arranged for display.  He gestured to it and looked over to the dragon dryly.

“Well I don’t sleep there!” the dragon said in exasperation, and Evandel burst into laugher.  The ruffled dragon grumbled loudly and crossed his front paws indignantly.  “Isn’t that just typical; you show someone your favorite hobby and they turn it into a joke.”

“My apologies,” Evandel said, still chuckling.  “I didn’t mean to upset you.  What was it you wanted to show me?”

Mychaelos nodded, assuming his calmer demeanor, and climbed out of the pool.  He walked calmly to a pile of gold and sifted through it with one paw.  He grasped onto something, and gently removed it from the pile, almost reverently.  Evandel couldn’t help but suspect that his gentleness was as much in respect of the object as it was so he wouldn’t disturb the pile.

What he removed was a slender staff of intricate carvings, painted white with silver set into the runes that were set in a spiral fashion down its length.  The bottom was capped with a metal covering, and the top was an ornate silver fixture that resembled a wave cresting in all directions.

“It’s . . .” Evandel started, but the breathtaking majesty of the piece made words seem pale.  “That is for me?”  He now felt truly ashamed of himself for his jests earlier.

“I had it fashioned long ago, for the one who stole my heart.” He bowed his head, almost sad.  “She gave it back to me when she died, saying that she wanted it to go to the Twinsoul.”  He passed the staff to Evandel, who held it carefully, testing its weight and stroking the carvings.  He recognized some of the runes as similar to ones on the wall in the cavern.  He was about to ask what they meant when Mychaelos walked past him, over to the wall with all the books. 

From a nearby pile, he pulled out a wooden chest with a truly enormous padlock.  Evandel wondered what kind of key could open a lock like that.  He was answered when Mychaelos leaned down and took the lock in his jaws and bit down, severing it like he was biting through a carrot.  Evandel gulped hard, truly glad that all the horror stories he heard about dragons as a child were misleading.

“In here is the other half of her gift to you.”

Evandel came toward him and looked to the chest, then back to the dragon.  Mychaelos nodded, urging him onward.  The half-elf lifted up the lid only a crack, and soft blue light shone out.  He opened it all the way to reveal an ovoid crystal, completely smooth like the most exquisite pearl.

“This is the Serenity Sapphire,” Mychaelos said, “which once belonged to Illintra Redwater.”

Evandel understood so much more from that one sentence than he learned from his entire visit with the big bronze.  He knew why he was standing in a treasure room that now only the dead had seen before, why Mychaelos had done everything that he had for the half-elf.

He silently lifted the gem, which felt curiously soft.  As he brought it closer he could see that it had a cushion of water all around it, and his touch sent light ripples along its surface.  He placed it on top of his new staff, setting it in the middle of the circular wave.  Its glow ceased as he did so, the soft radiance of the light-crystals on the walls all that kept the room from darkness.

“My task as a guardian is done,” Mychaelos said.  “I would ask, however, that if you need any more questions answered, you will come to me first, if at all possible.  It’s the least I can do now.”

Evandel nodded.  In truth, there was much more he would ask, about the dragon, Unity, and many other things.  But he did not have the luxury of time, and he already knew where to find the rest of the artifacts.  He felt closer to this dragon than to most of the people he met in his life, as though he knew him from a time and place older than them all.

Mychaelos laid himself down.  “I do hope you understand why I cannot keep you.”

“There is much to be done to stop the Betrayer,” Evandel said, placing his marked hand to the Sun Symbol.  “I will try for the Moon Glyph next, it’s closest.”

Mychaelos looked at him urgently.  “No, you must not go there now.  The only safe road to it lies through Faarthusia, and you must avoid the orcs’ homeland at all costs.”

“I understand,” Evandel said, remembering Zaken’s warning.  “I trust your wisdom.”

“You would be better off heading in the other direction, for Eldrina and Urdor,” Mychaelos said.  “Your friends would benefit from the air and earth artifacts, after all.”

Evandel smiled, not needing to ask how he knew his friends.  “I will come back, Farseer.  There is much more I wish to know, at another time.”

“I will be glad to see you again, Deepseeker,” Mychaelos said, almost sadly.

Evandel came over to Mychaelos, who extended his paw to lift him to his back.  Evandel ignored the gesture and walked straight to the dragon’s chest and did his best to put his arms around the base of the dragon’s neck.  Mychaelos simply returned the gesture gently with one paw. 

After he returned from the island, and he was walking up the stair to the Secondmaster’s quarters, he wondered what had made him embrace the dragon.  He could only conclude that it was his only way to repay the true gift he granted him.

He had given Evandel courage, as Evandel had given him hope.