The Black Dragon (tentative title)

[the_wolfs_howl]

Author's Note: This section was a doozy, that's for sure. This is kind of the emotional/moral low point of the story, I suppose; I literally cringed when I finished it. But don't worry! I'm a Christian, and I believe in redemption, so the next section will end much better! Man, but Shard's going to kill me.... Oh, and I was using Demon Hunter for mood music, as a Christian equivalent of Dragonforce (which I listen to every time I write a battle in Black Dragon), and the last track on the CD seemed very fitting to me: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1xQRO8HdoTk

To Shard's dismay, Vesper avoided him all through the next day, not even joining Vannasai in wishing him a good morning when they met before his lessons. Somehow, he was even more dismayed to see that she wore her grey cloak again, with the hood pulled up so her eyes were obscured in shadow. Shard felt almost as isolated as he had when he and Shynael had first joined the Ambassadors. What had happened to I'm so glad that you're my friend? What had he said to make her shun him again?

Shard was so preoccupied with thoughts of Vesper that he almost missed Shynael's back in Legacy's lesson. A sudden bolt of fear raced through him from Shynael's mind, reattaching the connection long enough for the dragon to catch him, but Shynael scolded him in a shaky whisper. "You could have died, Shard!" he hissed. "Pay attention!"

Glaive also scolded him for inattention, and Shard went to bed that night feeling frustrated with himself and exasperated with Vesper. He promised himself as he drifted off to sleep that he would ask Vesper what was the matter with her the very first thing tomorrow morning.

Unfortunately, Shard had just stepped out of his room to the courtyard where the other Ambassadors stood when the sound of erratically beating wings split the air. Everyone looked up in confusion and alarm when a small dragon crashed through the canopy overhead and landed clumsily in the middle of the courtyard. It was a slender blue dragon hardly as large as a horse, and its leathery wings hung limply at its sides. It was breathing heavily, its face filled with the pain and exertion of flying at top speed on wings that hardly looked strong enough to lift its weight. Shard was surprised this young dragon had been able to fly at all; Shynael had been much bigger when he had made his first attempt.

Vannasai was the first to overcome her surprise, moving smoothly to the blue dragon's side and crouching down. "Whatever is the matter, little one?" she asked softly. Vesper was at her side in an instant, kneeling down and reaching out to pat the dragon on its head.

The blue dragon shied away from Vesper's hand and tried to get to its feet, but it was too weak and frightened to manage it. "Humans!" it squeaked as Vesper immediately pulled her hand back. "The humans are coming...help us...they're going to kill us...."

Vannasai looked up and shared a worried look with the others, who had begun to draw closer. The little dragon had begun to cry steaming tears. "What's happened?" Vannasai asked gently. "Tell us everything, and we can help you."

"The humans came," the dragon sobbed, its little voice wavering and sounding so small and pitiful compared to Vannasai's deep rumble. "They found our nest. They started attacking with their shiny claws, and then they...they killed my little brother!" The quavering voice broke into sobs that Vannasai tried vainly to soothe, but the little dragon desperately tried to speak through its tears. "M-Mother and my s-sister are...are fighting them, but...b-but Mother told me...to g-go get help. Sh-She said, 'Go f-find the Ambassadors! T-Tell them to g-go northw-west. Th-They'll know what t-to do.'" The dragon let up a miserable wail. "And I'm f-frightened, and my wings h-hurt, an-and I d-don't know what to d-do!"

Vannasai murmured soothingly, rubbing her cheek against the blue dragon's head and licking its tears away. Vesper reached out to rub its back, and this time the dragon didn't flinch. Legacy turned to the others, her face hard. "Come on," she said, swinging up onto Linygae's back. "We haven't a moment to lose. Vesper and Vannasai, stay here and take care of the little one; take it to the Dragon King and see that it's safe. Those humans will pay for this."

Shard hastened onto Shynael's back as everyone rose into the air. The way Legacy had said the word humans made him uneasy, but what made him even more uneasy was the knowledge that they were heading into another battle. He struggled with himself as they soared through the air at top speed. Part of him – a very large part – screamed that these dragons needed to be saved, that he couldn't let this injustice of the humans continue. But at the same time, a desperate voice reminded him that this would mean pulling out his sword and committing more violence. And that thought made him feel so sick he would hardly have been surprised if he had passed out.

Well, he told himself as he strengthened his bond with Shynael, envisioning their clasped hands tightening, all I have to do is resist the dragonrage. If I can maintain control, I can at least keep from inflicting any mortal injuries.

But then there was no more time to think, and they were swooping down towards a cliff with a large cave mouth towards the top. Shard had been imagining a chaotic battle within the tight, enclosed space of a cave, but he saw now that the humans had somehow managed to draw the dragons out of the cave and onto the top of the cliff itself. Two red dragons fought side-by-side, one much larger than the other. The smaller one looked smaller than Shynael, but its movements suggested dragonrage, and it seemed capable of holding its own. The sheer number of humans, on the other hand, made Shard gasp with shock. He had been used to small bands of knights seeking glory, but this group of men (when combined with the many bodies scattered about the ground above and below the cave) was large enough to be called a small army. Where had all these humans come from?

Gyvael soared ahead to attack the rear of the human army, and Linygae hastened to cover for the younger dragon's powerful but sloppy attacks. Andrael dove straight into the middle of the fray, while Shynael swooped down to help out the older dragon. It hadn't been obvious at first because of the color of her scales, but as they drew closer Shard realized blood was pouring down her sides. He hastily unsheathed his sword, and before he had time to really prepare himself for the struggle ahead, bodies swarmed all around Shynael and there was no time to think anymore.

The confusion and heat of battle drove all thought from Shard's mind. All the long weeks of training had paid off, and he was one with his dragon. They seemed to move as one body, one mind, protecting each other from attacks the other couldn't see. And because of their connection, Shynael shared Shard's strong will to inflict the lightest injuries possible. Or was Shynael simply as unwilling to kill again as Shard was? Whatever was the case, they held back their true strength and kept from killing anyone, though this slowed them down and left them open to attack time and time again.

Then came the volley of arrows. The archers stood not far from Andrael, but he and Advent were busily dismembering a cluster of spearmen and were oblivious to anything else. Shard, whipping around to catch a man's sword before it hit Shynael's flank, caught sight of the arrows bursting into the air. Time seemed to slow down, and though he could see everything, Shard was unable to stop it. His arm was still swiping through the air, pushing the man back onto the ground, as the arrows took flight like a flock of sharp, narrow birds. Shard could see the angle of their flight and realized their intended target, even as they began to point downwards again. He opened his mouth to yell a warning, but even as he drew breath the arrows fell, hitting their target with deadly precision.

A deafening roar shook the ground beneath everyone's feet as the larger red dragon reared up on her hind legs, the shafts of many arrows peppering her body, finding the cracks in her natural armor, the gashes where blood gushed out, red on red. For a moment, the mother dragon seemed to hang suspended against the sky, her wings stretched to their full, massive length, letting the sun shine through holes made by arrows and swords. Then she fell backwards, tumbling from the cliff to the hard ground below. But she was dead before she landed.

[the_wolfs_howl]

Shard came back to himself when he felt Shynael jostling beneath him, racing towards the edge of the cliff, pushing soldiers aside without pausing to be sure they wouldn't be trampled by their brethren. Shard felt the choking emotion running through their connection, and he could hear Shynael's thoughts as clearly as if he had spoken: No! That little hatchling has lost its mother! Just as I have. How could I let this happen?

Shard bit his lip, wishing there was some way he could comfort his dragon in the middle of battle. But then he saw something that made him forget about Shynael entirely. As the black dragon skidded to a halt at the edge of the cliff, Shard swung off his back, staring at an object close to where the mother dragon had stood just moments before. It looked like smashed bits of porcelain, shiny silver on one side and yellowish white on the other. Strings of moisture hung from several pieces, and the way they were curved suggested an egg shape. Shard stared, sword in hand, as the sounds of battle crashed meaninglessly against his ears. There was a little reptilian form lying curled up amidst the broken bits of shell, small and wet and vulnerable. It had greyish skin, a tail, and small wings, but no scales.

In the middle of the wreckage of the egg was a large, deliberate bootprint. The mark of the toe lay between the pitiful body and its tiny, severed head. Its little mouth was open, revealing a miniscule tongue but no teeth, and its eyes were screwed shut.

A baby. They had killed a baby.

Shard felt his limbs shaking as he stared down at the tiny, broken body. Every detail of the unhatched dragon seemed to etch itself into his eyes. His heart pounded harder and harder, and his breath came in short gasps. He was aware of every tiny sensation in his body; he could feel an inhuman heat slowly creeping outward from his heart, setting his veins on fire. He knew the dragonrage was coming on, but for once he didn't care. Come, he savagely told the voice that began murmuring in the back of his head. Take over me. Give me your power. Lend me your aid...for vengeance.

And then an odd thing happened. As his vision turned red and he felt the dragonrage fill every fiber of his being, he realized that he still had control over his actions. No longer did the voice take over his body. Now, he was the one in control. Shard's vision sharpened and he saw faint bootprints leading away from the smashed egg. There were dozens of other bootprints in a confused chaos all over the battlefield, but his eyes followed those specific prints, and then locked on a knight attempting to rally his men around him.

Letting out a bellow of rage, Shard began to race across the battlefield towards this man, this knight, this murderer. He didn't take his eyes from that human's face, slashing automatically at anyone in his path. Men fell dead on either side of him as he carved his path through the fray to the commander. The knight saw him coming and raised his broadsword in defense. "Die!" Shard screamed at him, and his voice sounded uncannily like the voice that had always told him to kill.

Shard wasted no time on feints, balance, or tactics. He slashed with his sword as hard as he could, battering the knight with attacks so swift and so hard that it was all he could do to defend himself. The knight parried, again and again, five times, and then Shard struck again, cutting the knight's hand completely off.

The knight barely had time to cry out in pain before Shard kicked him in the chin, sending him crashing to the ground. Shard lifted his sword above his head with both hands, pointing it downward, and smashed it into the knight's stomach. The force of the blow was enough to break through the armor, and Shard felt the point of his sword slide through the soft skin of the stomach. The knight had fallen silent, but Shard tugged his sword out and smashed it through the man's chest this time. He stabbed the knight over and over again, feeling bones crush beneath his blows. The blade of his sword was now red to the hilt – or was that just his vision, which made everything look red?

The knight was long dead, but Shard pulled his helmet off and rested his foot on the knight's neck. With a savage grin, Shard raised his foot and smashed it down, crushing the knight's neck.

Shard's heightened senses warned him of the arrow whistling towards him; he whirled around and caught it in his hand, then threw it back in the direction it had come from. The arrow embedded itself in its own archer's neck, but Shard was already turning away. He had never felt so much power in his life, and it coursed through him with an obscene pleasure. He moved from soldier to soldier, his unstoppable sword smashing through their armor or tearing off their heads just slowly enough that they could feel the agony before they died. Nothing could stop him. Not even the knowledge that his figurative hand had let go of Shynael's long ago, and was now hanging limply in midair.

He was vaguely aware of the other Ambassadors, just outside his sphere of vision. He could care less about them just now; they would all tell him he should give up this pleasure. But his mind was clear, even in the dragonrage, and he knew it would be folly to cross blades with any of them. He focused all his power, all his savage delight, on causing as many painful deaths to the soldiers as possible.

But this could never go on forever, and eventually the whole army lay dead at his feet. He stood in the middle and looked around himself, the dragonrage still pumping through his veins at breakneck speed, and he saw the telltale marks of his own sword on every single body in sight. Some of the bodies at the edges of the battlefield no doubt belonged to the others, but most of them were his kills. See how powerful I am? I held all of their lives in my hands, and I crushed them...like the egg.

Shard tipped back his head and let out a maniacal laugh, exulting in what he had done. Yet as he laughed, the dragonrage slowly receded, his blood pumped slower and slower, and the heat slowly left his body till he was the ordinary Shard he had always been. The laughter began to feel sour in his throat, and it slowly died away. Shard opened the eyes he had squeezed shut in his laughter, and stared up at the sky. A fluffy white cloud, infernally cheerful, hovered right above him. His vision was no longer red; now he could see clearly just what he had done, and he realized he would never be as pristine as that cloud again. Not as long as he lived. No number of lives he saved could ever atone for the deaths he had caused. Somewhere up there, beyond the clouds, was a God who would never forgive him. Not after this.

Shard slowly sank to the ground, turning his face downward. How could he even look to the sky again? He saw that he was covered with blood – his body, his hands, his sword...probably his face was flecked with blood as well. It would never wash away. Not in a thousand years.

Shard gripped his hair with his bloody fingers, and while his lips remained silent, his soul screamed a cry of anguish.

[Esoteric]

Dude, Shard, you have some serious power issues.

Mmm boy, where to start today? Well, how about with Vesper? She really did a 180, as you point out, but I'm not really sure why. I guess she's just way moodier than I realized, because I can't see as Shard really did anything to shun her. She must be upset with herself for some reason???
And Shard, sweet likable Shard has a serious alter ego problem. Was he really in control this time? Because it doesn't sound like he was in control at all. He was just as destructive, the only difference seemed to be that he was consciously observing his actions this time, instead of it all being a big red blur.

In trying to understand this from a psychological perspective, I wonder, does Dragonrage remove the inhibitions of the 'diabolical self' as Lewis calls it? This is the only way I can see for Shard to be truly responsible (because in some ways it still seem like a separate person that takes over.) Deep down does Shard want to lash out violently at things which displease him? It's not an uncommon 'fantasy' for weak/shy people--to be able to rise up and crush the injustice they perceive and experience. Is Dragonrage facilitating a 'freeing' of such inner desires? It certainly sounds like it.

I'm just verbalizing thoughts here, so you don't need to answer all these questions. They're just so you know what this section made me wonder about. All in all the action was good.
I wonder what Advent's going to do this time because uh...I think Shard just kinda stole everybody's 'glory' so to speak.

[kryptech]

Whew, that's a pretty brutal section! The Tide Began to Rise seems a little too quiet for the dragonrage section -- maybe Fire to My Soul or The Soldier's Song instead.

For a moment, the mother dragon seemed to hang suspended against the sky, her wings stretched to their full, massive length, letting the sun shine through holes made by arrows and swords.

This created a very powerful mental image for me.

The part about the unhatched dragon was actually very disturbing. Your description was uncomfortably detailed. I can see how that would set Shard off. However, in a way I'd think that Shynael's reaction would also be powerful and influence Shard's thoughts, so that their connection would be strengthened rather than broken. E.g. when the mother dragon died:

Shard felt the choking emotion running through their connection, and he could hear Shynael's thoughts as clearly as if he had spoken: No! That little hatchling has lost its mother! Just as I have. How could I let this happen?

My take on the dragonrage control issue is as follows. I figured Shard's natural outrage over the baby dragon's murder drove him to willingly want to use the power of dragonrage to go beyond justice to deliberately and consciously inflict suffering on the soldiers. It's the idea that his own fallen nature used the dragonrage state in a very conscious way rather than before when dragonrage came over him and his was just reacting blur-of-the-moment without any real thought.

[Esoteric]

My take on the dragonrage control issue is as follows. I figured Shard's natural outrage over the baby dragon's murder drove him to willingly want to use the power of dragonrage to go beyond justice to deliberately and consciously inflict suffering on the soldiers.

Yeah, can see Shard wanting to use the dragonrage's strength to render justice, but there is a distinct sense of cruelty in his actions whenever he's under the influence of dragonrage. You think then it really is Shard's 'inner nature' that is cruel and not truly a 'side-effect' of the dragonrage?

And yes, the descriptions were powerfully vivid. Quite nice work in that regard.

[kryptech]

Yeah, can see Shard wanting to use the dragonrage's strength to render justice, but there is a distinct sense of cruelty in his actions whenever he's under the influence of dragonrage. You think then it really is Shard's 'inner nature' that is cruel and not truly a 'side-effect' of the dragonrage?

Hum... Now I'd got to think harder.

We all have a sense of justice and witnessing injustice (especially to ourselves or to someone with whom we easily identify) quickly raises our indignation. Unfortunately fallen human nature likes to meet out punishment of a somewhat greater measure than the original injury (like punching someone back a little harder than the person punched you). I view dragonrage as both a state where inhibitions are minimized and super-human abilities granted -- a bad combination when mixed with the passions of a less-than-righteous human. So yes, I'd say that Shard's actions ultimately sprang from his own heart and can't be simply blamed on dragonrage, particularly when he was very conscious of being in that state and deliberate with his actions. However, just as other stimulants can cause radical changes to even the most mild person, I'm sure in the state of dragonrage it would be very hard to control oneself and know when to draw the line between punishment and revenge.

Of course that is just my take on it. And, I admit, I haven't looked back and reviewed past chapters.

[the_wolfs_howl]

Mmm boy, where to start today? Well, how about with Vesper? She really did a 180, as you point out, but I'm not really sure why. I guess she's just way moodier than I realized, because I can't see as Shard really did anything to shun her. She must be upset with herself for some reason???

She's struggling with what she didn't end up saying to Shard last time. I would say she's...kind of confused right now, about a lot of things. And she also kind of lost her nerve.... Something like that.

I wonder what Advent's going to do this time because uh...I think Shard just kinda stole everybody's 'glory' so to speak.

I hadn't thought about that. Oh dear, now I have to tweak stuff again.

Whew, that's a pretty brutal section! The Tide Began to Rise seems a little too quiet for the dragonrage section -- maybe Fire to My Soul or The Soldier's Song instead.

Granted. I meant that the song fit in with the end of the section, where Shard's all "What have I done?!" and everything.

The part about the unhatched dragon was actually very disturbing. Your description was uncomfortably detailed. I can see how that would set Shard off. However, in a way I'd think that Shynael's reaction would also be powerful and influence Shard's thoughts, so that their connection would be strengthened rather than broken.

For the first time, I can understand what J.K. Rowling felt when she said that she didn't want to talk about the procedure of making Horcruxes, because it was just too horrifying. Usually, even when I'm writing something disgusting and horrifying, it doesn't affect me too much because I was the one who came up with it. But this time...I felt my insides turn cold as I described the prematurely-dead baby dragon. It's...kind of the way I feel about abortion, I guess.
But that's a good point you made about Shynael's reaction and their bond. I'm going to have to think about this some more. I don't think it can be changed in this draft, but I'll consider changing it in the next one.

And Shard, sweet likable Shard has a serious alter ego problem. Was he really in control this time? Because it doesn't sound like he was in control at all. He was just as destructive, the only difference seemed to be that he was consciously observing his actions this time, instead of it all being a big red blur.

In trying to understand this from a psychological perspective, I wonder, does Dragonrage remove the inhibitions of the 'diabolical self' as Lewis calls it? This is the only way I can see for Shard to be truly responsible (because in some ways it still seem like a separate person that takes over.) Deep down does Shard want to lash out violently at things which displease him? It's not an uncommon 'fantasy' for weak/shy people--to be able to rise up and crush the injustice they perceive and experience. Is Dragonrage facilitating a 'freeing' of such inner desires? It certainly sounds like it.

My take on the dragonrage control issue is as follows. I figured Shard's natural outrage over the baby dragon's murder drove him to willingly want to use the power of dragonrage to go beyond justice to deliberately and consciously inflict suffering on the soldiers. It's the idea that his own fallen nature used the dragonrage state in a very conscious way rather than before when dragonrage came over him and his was just reacting blur-of-the-moment without any real thought.

Yeah, can see Shard wanting to use the dragonrage's strength to render justice, but there is a distinct sense of cruelty in his actions whenever he's under the influence of dragonrage. You think then it really is Shard's 'inner nature' that is cruel and not truly a 'side-effect' of the dragonrage?

We all have a sense of justice and witnessing injustice (especially to ourselves or to someone with whom we easily identify) quickly raises our indignation. Unfortunately fallen human nature likes to meet out punishment of a somewhat greater measure than the original injury (like punching someone back a little harder than the person punched you). I view dragonrage as both a state where inhibitions are minimized and super-human abilities granted -- a bad combination when mixed with the passions of a less-than-righteous human. So yes, I'd say that Shard's actions ultimately sprang from his own heart and can't be simply blamed on dragonrage, particularly when he was very conscious of being in that state and deliberate with his actions. However, just as other stimulants can cause radical changes to even the most mild person, I'm sure in the state of dragonrage it would be very hard to control oneself and know when to draw the line between punishment and revenge.

Sorry if quoting all that makes this post really long, but...WOW. This is the first time anyone has ever got into any kind of discussion/debate about something in one of my stories. This is amazing for me, you guys.
Erm, anyway, back to the point at hand...I think you're both right, actually. This is the way I see it (and really, at this point dragonrage is an entity that I don't really have control over anymore): Dragonrage stems from the person's emotions (namely, anger), but once it starts up, it knocks down the inhibitions the person's put up to protect himself (and others) from destructive behavior. So at first the person is angry and, say, wishes he could punch that guy who insulted him in the face. Dragonrage builds up inside him, till the barriers to his sinful, destructive nature are torn down. Most of the time, he'd lose control and chop the guy's head off or something. I think when that happens, the person doesn't really want to kill the other guy. He's just angry, and if the dragonrage had left him, the anger would have subsided and he wouldn't want to hurt the guy as much anymore. But if the person got to the point where he (consciously, apart from dragonrage) hated the guy and really wanted to see him suffer for what he'd done, then the dragonrage wouldn't be out of his control anymore. He would be fully aware of his actions, and he would want to chop that guy's head off.

Dragonrage is my illustration of the depravity of mankind, the sinful nature that we can never rid ourselves of, this side of Heaven anyway. It really is Shard's fault - he's not making that up for his guilt complex - because he wanted to hurt those soldiers, make them pay, rather than let God take vengeance. And yet, the dragonrage made him so much more powerful, so much more deadly. I think he was in control. Or at the very least, aware and fine with it while it lasted.

Does my take make any sense? *wipes brow*

[kryptech]

Granted. I meant that the song fit in with the end of the section, where Shard's all "What have I done?!" and everything.

For that section, Tide Began to Rise is very apropos. After all, that is the closing track on a fairly harsh and grim album.

Your explanation of dragonrage is pretty close to how I understood it. And it makes sense to me. So that's cool.

He's just angry, and if the dragonrage had let him, the anger would have subsided and he wouldn't want to hurt the guy as much anymore.

Did you possibly mean "dragonrage had left him" in the above quote?

[the_wolfs_howl]

Did you possibly mean "dragonrage had left him" in the above quote?

Oh. Yeah. Oops! Pesky 'f'....

[the_wolfs_howl]

Author's Note: I just got back from a three-week trip, and I'm scrambling madly around to get caught up with everything and make sure I have Christmas presents for people and stuff, but I really really wanted to get this section out on time. I think this is the perfect way to round out the year with Black Dragon; it almost gives a sense of closure, or at least a chance for the characters to catch their breath before the climax really gets underway. I've been plotting this section out thoroughly throughout the past three weeks, so I hope you guys like it. This is a scene I've been dying to write for a long time, almost as long as Advent's stabbing scene. Also, an interesting little tidbit: the phrase "the mercy of peace", which I use in this section, comes from an exceptionally beautiful Russian vesper of that name, which has given me comfort when I feel ugly and wretched. Getting to put little things like that into my stories makes me smile.

Shard was in a daze all the way back to the Ambassadors' home. His body moved, he climbed onto Shynael's back, and the trees sped away beneath him, but he was only vaguely aware of any of it. He couldn't bring himself to think or feel; he felt as though his soul had shrunk away from the world, wadding itself up into a little ball in his heart.

Automatically sliding off Shynael's back once they had reached the courtyard, Shard looked around at his companions. Glaive busied himself with a buckle on his armor, and Legacy kept shooting furtive glances his way, as if afraid of what he might do if their eyes met. Vesper stood at the other end of the courtyard, the little blue dragon nowhere in sight. The only one who returned his gaze was Advent, who scowled viciously at him. But not even Advent could rouse any feeling in Shard's deadened heart, and he turned to make his way to his room. Shynael remained where he was, turning his head away as if he couldn't bear to watch.

Silence pressed in on Shard's ears as he strode numbly into his lush, neat little room. The whole world seemed to be holding its breath, watching nervously as he descended the few steps and began to cross the great expanse of carpet. He found himself heading towards the full-length mirror on the wardrobe, his reflection slowly growing larger and larger in it, though the mirror seemed to be getting farther and farther away.

A strange man stood in the mirror. He wore black armor that spread over his body like a sickly, black disease, turning him into a strange reptilian creature. He held a naked sword in his hand, covered with other men's blood. His shaggy brown hair hung around his pale, drawn face. Splotches of blood marred his face, and his hair was matted with it as well. Blood was everywhere, everywhere. He was covered in it, as if he had bathed in a huge vat of the red life-giving fluid.

Suddenly a huge wave of revulsion crashed over Shard, and he flung his sword away. He hastily unbuckled his belt and threw away his scabbard as well. Then came his gauntlets, clattering away across the floor. With fingers fumbling in their haste, Shard tore off every piece of his infernal black armor and threw it into a great heap, like a pile of refuse. But even when his armor was gone, he felt dirty. There was still blood on his face. Almost frantic now, Shard tried to rub the grime off his cheeks, but he succeeded only in smearing it around. He stared desperately at his own eyes in the mirror, and then he realized: My filthiness goes beneath the skin.

At that thought, Shard let his arms drop to his sides. What was the use anymore? How could he ever cleanse himself from all the grime building up underneath his skin, piling up in his heart and spreading outwards? He was a murderer. A monster who had laughed - laughed! - when he had killed all those men. He had enjoyed it. It had been a pleasure to hack away at living flesh, to see blood gush out over the thirsty ground. He had laughed.

The hollow echo of his voice filtered back into his ears: Die!! His heart turned cold as similar cries bombarded him. Kill, kill, kill. It was all the same voice, and it had been all along. He just hadn't wanted to admit it to himself. He had wanted to believe the voice that spoke in his head during dragonrage was an entity separate from himself, a sinister voice commanding him and taking over his body. But that voice was his. That voice was Shard. It had been his from the beginning. He had urged himself to kill all those people, and what was worse...he had obeyed.

Shard reeled away from the mirror, unable to look at himself any longer. He pressed a hand to his dirty forehead. How could he ever face anyone again? How could he face God again? How could he lift up his voice in prayer? He had sinned so much it was a wonder God didn't smite him down right then and there.

But if he couldn't even go to God anymore...what was the point of anything? How could he live with himself? How could he go on as if nothing had happened? Every day would only be a reminder of his transgressions. Every person he saw would become a corpse on the battlefield, and he would never escape. And if he lived to the end of his days like this, the weight of his guilt bearing down on him at every moment...that would be agony a thousand times worse than when Advent had stabbed him.

So then...why should he continue to live? He was a blight on the world. Shard found his eyes roaming across the room, and they settled on the table, where a platter sat with a piping-hot meal waiting for him. Shard moved numbly over to it, his hand reaching out for the silver knife almost on its own. When his fingers touched it, however, he paused.

A memory niggled at the back of his mind. He had been a small boy in the village when a young woman had killed herself after she had lost her only child. He vaguely remembered the villagers talking amongst themselves, saying...saying that if you killed yourself, you went straight to Hell. If he did this, he would go to Hell right alongside that young mother.

Shard found his ivory cross in his hand with no memory of pulling it off his neck. Its stark white face seemed to accuse him in its purity. It's just as well that I'll be going to Hell, Shard thought as he slowly let the crucifix slip through his fingers and fall to the floor. I deserve every torment.

Picking up the knife with one hand, he unlaced the top of his shirt with the other, so that his skin was exposed. He took a step away from the table, gripped the knife tightly in his hand, and positioned it carefully above the pulsing center of his chest, where his heart thudded against his ribs. He gripped his fist with his other hand to give it extra force, and-

[the_wolfs_howl]

"NOOOO!"

Shard suddenly found himself kneeling on the floor, struggling against someone who had an iron grip on his hands. He strained desperately against the hands clasped around his wrists, suddenly terrified that he wouldn't be able to go through with his plan. But the hands wouldn't let go, and they were strong enough that they held the tip of the knife several inches away from his skin. Shard furiously glanced up as he fought against her grip, and saw Vesper kneeling before him, cloak all askew, gripping Shard's wrists with all her might and staring at him with wide blue eyes.

For a moment, Shard froze in shock. Then the terror rose up even more powerfully than before, and he tugged against Vesper's grip more desperately than ever. He wasn't even sure himself what he was frightened of, but the terror left no room for rational thought.

Vesper renewed her grip on his arms, straining to keep the knife away. She squeezed her eyes shut and cried, "'Out of the depths I cry to thee, O Lord! O Lord, hear my voice!'"

Shard stared at her, his insides going cold. He knew those words coming from her lips; he could remember long hours spent with Father Mark, memorizing those very words. But the thought of Father Mark reminded him again of his guilt, and why he needed that knife in the first place, and he strained harder than ever.

"'If thou, O Lord, should mark iniquities, O Lord, who could stand?'"

Why was she trying to stop him? Couldn't she see how wretched he was? Didn't she know that God would never forgive him?

"'But with thee there is forgiveness, that thee may be feared.'"

Forgiveness? But how? He was a filthy, wretched murderer! Murderer.... Flash. A knight lying on a hill with a split helmet. Flash. A beheaded knight, rotting on the ground in a pool of his own drying blood. Flash. A dead soldier with a shocked expression and his own arrow plunged into his neck. Flash. A commander of an army, body mangled almost beyond recognition, his neck crushed beneath an iron boot. Flash. The knife quivered in his hands as he fought against Vesper.

Shard closed his eyes, unable to look at the weapon any longer. Despite everything he had told himself before, he found himself sending up a silent, confused prayer. Oh God, I'm a murderer. I would give anything to take back what I've done.

"'My soul waiteth for the Lord, more than watchmen for the morning, more than watchmen for the morning.'"

I know I don't deserve your forgiveness...but I'm asking for it anyway. Without your forgiveness, I can never live with myself. Without your forgiveness, every breath I take is an agony. Shard bleakly opened his eyes and found himself looking at the little ivory cross lying on the floor a few feet away.

"'For with the Lord there is steadfast love, and with him is plentiful redemption.'"

As Shard knelt on the carpeted floor, gripping a knife in clasped hands and gazing at the cross, he felt a warmth spreading through him, like an invisible embrace of peace. It was as though two enormous arms wrapped around his heart, soothing its torment and protecting it with the mercy of peace. Shard found his arms relaxing, the knife slipping from his fingers and landing with a soft thud in the carpet.

"'And he shall redeem Israel from all his iniquities.'"

And the amazing part of it all was that Shard did feel redeemed. He was forgiven, inexplicably absolved from all the guilt that had been weighing on his heart for so many months. The ivory cross suddenly blurred, and Shard became aware that tears were pouring down his cheeks, washing the blood away.

He blinked, and saw Vesper kneeling before him, clasping his hands in her own, her blue eyes filling with tears as well. He couldn't stop the enormous sob that raced up his throat, and the force of his tears made him rest his forehead on her shoulder, crying out all the emotions swarming inside him.

Vesper wrapped her arms around his shaking shoulders, rocking him slightly back and forth. One hand rubbed his back, and the other stroked his matted hair. She murmured, "Oh, Shard...."

"Call me Sean."

[the_wolfs_howl]

Author's Note: Like I did last year, I'm putting up an extra little bonus section as a Christmas present to you two. Thank you, Eso and kryptech, for reading my story so faithfully. You can only guess how much I appreciate it. Shard and Shynael also say thanks, because you're the first people who've listened to their story. And actually...it's not much of an exaggeration at all to say that they live because of you two. Thank you very, very much, from all three of us. Merry Christmas, and if you find bits of deer carcass in your stockings, that means that Shynael got to them before Santa Claus XD

When Shard emerged from a long warm bath (commenced at Vesper's urging after he had eaten the meal prepared for him), he found the room blissfully empty. He wouldn't have minded Vesper's presence too much, but he couldn't stand the thought of facing any of the others. He didn't want to see their fearful or accusing looks, as if somehow the whole affair hinged on him.

Tying his wet hair back, Shard crossed the room to the table. The dishes were all gone, but lying off to one side was the little ivory cross Shard had laid aside. He reverently picked it up, gazing at the simple shape sitting in his palm. A thousand fleeting emotions soared through him, emotions that didn't quite carry on to words. He murmured a soft prayer of thanks, crossed himself, and pulled the string over his head again, tucking the cool piece of ivory underneath his shirt, where it rested directly over his heart - right where the knife would have pierced.

Shard turned around and found Shynael sitting behind him, watching with inscrutable yellow eyes. For a moment, neither moved. "Vannasai and Vesper took the little one to the Dragon King," Shynael finally said awkwardly. "She and her sister are going to be taken care of."

Shard nodded, suddenly feeling strange around his dragon. What was wrong? Why wouldn't his hand move to rub Shynael's smooth scales? Why could he find no words to say?

The silence dragged on and on, ludicrously long, and neither of them could seem to muster up the nerve to move or speak. They just stood there and stared at each other. This was no instance of silent communication. Shard looked at Shynael's eyes, and they were like solid gold shields hiding his thoughts from sight. For the first time in months, he had no idea what his dragon was thinking.

Finally Shynael broke the unbearable silence. "Tell me what happened," he said quietly.

Shard immediately shrank away, casting his eyes to the ground. "You saw what happened."

"I saw what you did," Shynael replied, his voice growing stronger. "But I don't understand. You let me go, and then...you wouldn't let me back in."

Then Shard saw what he was talking about. In the figurative part of his mind where he envisioned their bond, he stood looking across at Shynael, and a wall of glass had been erected between them. He had made that glass, he saw at once, when he had let the dragonrage take over. And now he couldn't feel Shynael at all. There was nothing of the intimate bond they had shared, except a cold memory.

"I can't feel you," Shynael whispered. "Where are you?"

Shard saw Shynael's figurative human shape reach out and press his hands against the glass wall. As he watched, Shard realized what he would have to do in order to get rid of that wall between them. But he instinctively shied away from that course. It would mean reopening the wound that Vesper had just helped him close. He would be opening his heart to pain again, and he wasn't sure he could face it this time. Slowly, Shard shook his head.

"I can't," he whispered. "I just can't."

"Shard!" Shynael said with the hint of a snarl in his voice, pressing his great black head up close. "Do you realize what's happening?"

"What?"

"Our bond is in danger of breaking!" Shynael blurted out, his voice trembling dangerously. "You wouldn't let me in, and I...I was afraid of trying to touch you with my mind again." He hunched his enormous shoulders, ducking his head down almost to the floor. "And now I can't feel you at all. I'm afraid that if we don't do something now, the damage might be unreversible!"

The situation was serious enough that Shard decided not to correct his grammar. "Our bond is breaking? Is that even possible?"

Shynael sniffed miserably, obviously on the verge of tears. "I don't know. But if I can never feel you again...."

Shard tried to imagine what it would be like. They would still be friends, of course. They had been through so much together they could hardly help that. But what if Shard never experienced that intimacy again? What if he could never tell what his dragon was thinking or feeling? There was a void between them, and he had a feeling that if they left it there, the glass wall would become thicker and thicker over time. He didn't want that. Having someone who knew the core of his heart made him very vulnerable, but Shynael had always cupped it gently in his hands, providing comfort in a way no one else could, because he knew where it hurt the most. Could he even survive without that? Then he remembered something Glaive had once said: a bond so strong that to break it would mean tearing one's own soul in two....

Shard covered his eyes with one hand and took a deep, steadying breath. "All right," he said at last. He couldn't do this to Shynael. He had to get rid of that wall, no matter how much it hurt him. "You're going to hate me when I'm finished."

Shynael said nothing, but he grew very still. Shard began to tell him everything that had happened since the mother dragon had been killed, spitting out every wretched detail of his experience. He left nothing out, describing in grisly detail the pleasure of killing the soldiers, then relating every thought that had entered his head afterwards. He relived it all, pounding on that glass wall with every word till shards of glass splintered away. They cut his hands, but he didn't care. The pain was surprisingly satisfying, cathartic in a way. He smashed through the glass wall, until finally at the end of his story, he pushed his way through the jagged hole he had made.

He was bloody and exhausted, and his whole body ached. Surely Shynael must be horrified, disgusted that his friend would stoop so low. But Shard was so emotionally exhausted he hardly even cared anymore what his dragon thought.

Shynael's human form stood before him in his mind, a black-haired boy with wide golden eyes that gazed solemnly up at him. The mental image had never been clearer before; Shard could hardly tell whether he was really looking at this human, or the dragon he was so familiar with. "Shard," the little gigantic dragon-boy said. "I love you."

The little boy embraced him, and for a moment Shard could actually feel the small arms encircling his waist. Then he blinked and Shynael's enormous scaly neck engulfed him, wrapping around him in a warm embrace. Shard rested his cheek against the warm scales, closing his eyes and taking a deep, shaky breath. He knew exactly what Shynael was thinking now, and it made him want to bawl his eyes out again: I love you, I love you, I love you.

I love you too, Shynael. I love you too.

[Esoteric]

Alas, you've succeeded in bringing a tear to my eyes again, and not because of the deer carcass in my stocking. (Shynael, next time I'd prefer my deer in the form of summer sausage where it tastes remarkably like beef.)

A very nice section, Wolf. The emotion was wonderfully powerful. I'm now astonishingly eager to learn what comes next between them, although you're right...it is a very good place for you to 'take a breather' if need be.

Small thought. Vesper must have been shocked and terrified by Shard's attempt. I was mildly surprised she did not ask him why he wanted to die...but then perhaps she understood only too well. Instead, I would maybe see her begging (demanding even) a promise from him not to try such a thing ever again. Otherwise I dare say she wouldn't feel safe letting him out of her sight. Even then, she would worry....

But wow, a great Christmas entry!

[the_wolfs_howl]

*Shynael takes due note and decides to learn how to make crumpets from the dragon in "The Knight and Shining Armor"*

I'm very glad you like it, and I'm glad that it made you cry (you know what I mean).

Hmm. Do you think I should've elongated the scene a bit, or stuck in some more dialogue after Shard drops the knife, with Vesper saying, "Don't you dare do anything like that again!" etc.? I guess I was just so fixated on ending it there.... I get these ideas for dramatic ways to end sections, to the exclusion of all else

But don't worry! Next month's section will feature Shard-Vesper interaction! I'll tell you that, at least.

[kryptech]

Very powerful, both sections. The scene with Vesper stopping Shard and quoting scripture was moving, and also seemed to fit very nicely with this Christmas season. I thought the depth of emotion was expressed well.

A few snippets that I particularly liked:

Silence pressed in on Shard's ears as he strode numbly into his lush, neat little room. The whole world seemed to be holding its breath, watching nervously as he descended the few steps and began to cross the great expanse of carpet. He found himself heading towards the full-length mirror on the wardrobe, his reflection slowly growing larger and larger in it, though the mirror seemed to be getting farther and farther away.

Almost frantic now, Shard tried to rub the grime off his cheeks, but he succeeded only in smearing it around. He stared desperately at his own eyes in the mirror, and then he realized: My filthiness goes beneath the skin.

...and pulled the string over his head again, tucking the cool piece of ivory underneath his shirt, where it rested directly over his heart - right where the knife would have pierced.

Nice connection.

Then Shard saw what he was talking about. In the figurative part of his mind where he envisioned their bond, he stood looking across at Shynael, and a wall of glass had been erected between them. He had made that glass, he saw at once, when he had let the dragonrage take over. And now he couldn't feel Shynael at all. There was nothing of the intimate bond they had shared, except a cold memory.

I like your image descriptions of Shard and Shynael's bond -- the hand, the glass here, and the boy later on.

"'But with thee there is forgiveness, that thee may be feared.'"

thee --> thou (BTW, Olde English works so wonderfully in those quotes!)

Small thought. Vesper must have been shocked and terrified by Shard's attempt. I was mildly surprised she did not ask him why he wanted to die...but then perhaps she understood only too well. Instead, I would maybe see her begging (demanding even) a promise from him not to try such a thing ever again. Otherwise I dare say she wouldn't feel safe letting him out of her sight. Even then, she would worry....

Hmm. Do you think I should've elongated the scene a bit, or stuck in some more dialogue after Shard drops the knife, with Vesper saying, "Don't you dare do anything like that again!" etc.?

The scene with Shard and Vesper ends off with Shard crying on Vesper's shoulder, followed by the scene where Shard's emerging from his bath (at Vesper's urging). So it implies that there was some dialog between the two scenes once Shard settled down. In a sense I do like the way that dialog isn't stated, but maybe some further development would help. Maybe once the dam broke, as it were, Vesper realized that the danger of self-injury had passed. Still it would make sense for her to want to check on Shard again soon. Also, I'm not sure exactly when Shynael returned to Shard -- Shynael seems pretty level-headed and even though his mental connection to Shard hadn't been restored yet perhaps Vesper would feel confident leaving Shard under Shynael's watchful eye for the time being.

Thank you, Eso and kryptech, for reading my story so faithfully. You can only guess how much I appreciate it. Shard and Shynael also say thanks, because you're the first people who've listened to their story. And actually...it's not much of an exaggeration at all to say that they live because of you two. Thank you very, very much, from all three of us. Merry Christmas, and if you find bits of deer carcass in your stockings, that means that Shynael got to them before Santa Claus XD

Ah, so that's where the venison came from... I hope you don't mind -- I regifted it for our cats.

Seriously though, I'm honoured to be among the first to read this tale. It has been a good read thus far and I'm certain the trend will continue. I'm happy I could be of some help along the way.

[Lil_Ninja]

I have finally read it all, and I can't wait until the next part!

Very nice work, Wolf!

[Esoteric]

*Shynael takes due note and decides to learn how to make crumpets from the dragon in "The Knight and Shining Armor"*

Oooooh, crumpets! (has never actually had a crumpet) :

Hmm. Do you think I should've elongated the scene a bit, or stuck in some more dialogue after Shard drops the knife, with Vesper saying, "Don't you dare do anything like that again!" etc.? I guess I was just so fixated on ending it there.... I get these ideas for dramatic ways to end sections, to the exclusion of all else

Hard to say what would be best really. If you wish to keep your 'dramatic ending', you could omit the dialogue which followed but make mention of it later.
For example, in the beginning of the next section Shard could be sitting in the bath Vesper suggested, going over his thoughts and remembering things she said to him in the aftermath (i.e. Why? Don't do that again! etc...). You could even work in a sense of her reluctance to leave him alone. This sort of quick conveyance of info is very useful and frankly something I need to work on too. I often forget that while it's not as dramatic, it's certainly more efficient to 'tell' instead of 'show' in certain instances between scenes...at least in the sense Card talks about in Characters and Plot (which I know you read).

But don't worry! Next month's section will feature Shard-Vesper interaction! I'll tell you that, at least.

Yay!

[the_wolfs_howl]

Very powerful, both sections. The scene with Vesper stopping Shard and quoting scripture was moving, and also seemed to fit very nicely with this Christmas season. I thought the depth of emotion was expressed well.

Thanks! I'm glad you enjoyed it. I was reading through Psalms one time, and when I came to Psalm 130, I just gaped at it because that was Shard right there. I knew I'd have to use it sometime, which I suppose is ultimately where this scene came from.

thee --> thou (BTW, Olde English works so wonderfully in those quotes!)

XP I need to work on my 'thee's and 'thou's. One of these days I'll dig up a copy of the King James version of the Bible and get all these verses down right. My Bible is ESV, so I was trying to adapt the verses from that into something that sounded more archaic. They're placeholders for now.

The scene with Shard and Vesper ends off with Shard crying on Vesper's shoulder, followed by the scene where Shard's emerging from his bath (at Vesper's urging). So it implies that there was some dialog between the two scenes once Shard settled down. In a sense I do like the way that dialog isn't stated, but maybe some further development would help. Maybe once the dam broke, as it were, Vesper realized that the danger of self-injury had passed. Still it would make sense for her to want to check on Shard again soon. Also, I'm not sure exactly when Shynael returned to Shard -- Shynael seems pretty level-headed and even though his mental connection to Shard hadn't been restored yet perhaps Vesper would feel confident leaving Shard under Shynael's watchful eye for the time being.

Hard to say what would be best really. If you wish to keep your 'dramatic ending', you could omit the dialogue which followed but make mention of it later.
For example, in the beginning of the next section Shard could be sitting in the bath Vesper suggested, going over his thoughts and remembering things she said to him in the aftermath (i.e. Why? Don't do that again! etc...). You could even work in a sense of her reluctance to leave him alone. This sort of quick conveyance of info is very useful and frankly something I need to work on too. I often forget that while it's not as dramatic, it's certainly more efficient to 'tell' instead of 'show' in certain instances between scenes...at least in the sense Card talks about in Characters and Plot (which I know you read).

Hmmm. I like the idea of him thinking about it in the bath. But...would it be better/more dramatic to have Vesper say, "Don't you ever do that again!" sometime between when he drops the knife and when he starts to cry? Hmmmm.... *ruminates some more*

Ah, so that's where the venison came from... I hope you don't mind -- I regifted it for our cats. ]
No prob! Shynael says that next time, though, he's sending Shard down the chimney instead. I understand it was kind of cramped in there

Seriously though, I'm honoured to be among the first to read this tale. It has been a good read thus far and I'm certain the trend will continue. I'm happy I could be of some help along the way.

I'm glad. Just having a reader or two is so helpful; I'm going to have to do something like this for one or two of my other novels that don't seem to be going anywhere.

I have finally read it all, and I can't wait until the next part!

Very nice work, Wolf!

Ooh, a lurker! ]Oooooh, crumpets! (has never actually had a crumpet) :

*has never actually had a crumpet either!*

[the_wolfs_howl]

Author's Note: This section ended up being a bit longer than I was expecting. So the aftermath of this new information will have to wait till next time. The inspiration for this new twist came from a curious juxtaposition of stories that happened about a year ago. I was playing the game Abe's Exoddus and reading The Book of D'ni at the same time, and I felt...disturbed, I suppose you would say, by a similarity between a certain aspect of the two stories. It tugged at my heartstrings, and somehow or other that led to this idea. I'm very anxious to see what you guys think of it, but I'm very glad to have it done with - it was the least thought-through of all the scenes left in this story. But I have some even more exciting news: With this section, The Black Dragon has reached 100 pages!

They were coming to get him. He could hear them, their feet pounding against the ground as he lay curled in a tight ball of darkness, immovable and alone. The villagers were coming, with their bread shovels and pitchforks, ready to beat him, crush him, banish the demon that dwelt within him. He could hear their voices raised in a rumbling, repetitive chant that sent chills down his spine: Kill, kill, kill. They were filled with malevolence, and he could not escape their wrath. He could not move. He could only hear them draw nearer and nearer, slowly surrounding him till there could be no escape.

Gradually he realized that he was looking down on the black egg from somewhere above. Beneath that smooth, stone-like surface, he knew, was a small black dragon not yet ready to be hatched. It would not hatch until it felt his touch, for he was the one bonded to that dragon. Shynael, Shynael! he tried to shout, but no sound would come out. Fear clawed at him, for he knew what these enraged villagers would do. They would crush the egg, break the obsidian-like shell, stamp their huge clumsy boots onto the baby dragon inside. They would crush his bones, squash his brains, puncture his heart, scrape off the delicate little scales that covered his body. Shynael would never open his eyes, never look on the world his mother had described so vividly, never meet Shard’s brown eyes and smile from the depths of his heart....

"Shard," a voice said in his ear. "Shard, wake up."

He was lying on his little cot in the chapel, and Father Mark was shaking his shoulder to wake him. He had to get up, he had to. He had to leap to his feet, rush out to where the villagers congregated around his best friend, and save the helpless little dragon. But...he couldn't open his eyes. He couldn't lift his tired limbs out of his bed. He couldn't wake up! He tried and tried and tried, but his body would not respond. Time was running out, and all he could do was lie there pathetically in his bed.

The boot raised in the air above the vulnerable black egg, poised to fall....

"Shard-"

"No!" Shard yelled, jerking awake and flailing with his arm to push the boot away.

When he heard someone let out a surprised "Oof!", he blinked to get his bearings. He was sitting in the crook of Shynael's neck, where he slept every night, and directly in front of him Vesper lay sprawled on the ground. Vannasai's head poked into the room to investigate the source of the commotion, and Vesper picked herself back up.

Suddenly Shard returned to his senses. "I'm sorry!" he cried, hastily getting to his feet and helping her up. "I didn't mean to.... I was dreaming, and...."

"It's not a problem," Vesper assured him with a smile. "I didn't want to wake you at first; you looked so peaceful."

Shard felt his cheeks grow warm. How long had she been watching him sleep?

Vesper bent down and picked up the candlestick she had set down several feet away, casting their long shadows on the walls. As she straightened up again, Shard saw that she was wearing one of her dull-colored dresses and her cloak, though her hood hung down her back. It made him very aware of his nightshirt and his bare legs, speckled all the way down with black scales.

"I'm sorry I had to wake you up like this," Vesper said as he tried to suppress a yawn, Shynael stretching luxuriously behind him. "But...I couldn't think of any other time I could get you alone." She hesitated, gazing into the flame of the candle rather than meeting his eyes. "Shard...there's something you need to know. I know I should have told you before, but...I was afraid. If you didn't believe me, or you didn't see things the way I see them...I don't know what I'd do. I've been alone for so long, and...it's unbearable not to have someone to confide in. But rejection would be just as unbearable."

Finally Vesper raised her eyes to meet his. "I've been thinking a lot lately, about things that have been happening. And I believe I can trust you with this. You have a good heart, Shard. I don't want to burden you any further...but I think you deserve to know what's what."

"Is it just because I'm half asleep, or are you not making any sense at all?" Shynael grumbled groggily.

"I don't exactly understand what you're trying to say," Shard said more gently.

Vesper took a deep breath, shared a look with Vannasai, and nodded. "It'll be easier if I show you. Will you come with me, right now? You'll need to put on some more clothes; it gets cold at night."

Shard looked at Vesper curiously, but nodded. "Of course I'll come." He hurried to the wardrobe, pulled on some pants, and tucked in his nightshirt. The others followed, Shynael still yawning hugely. As Shard pulled on his boots, Vesper approached with her candle, the only source of light in the large room other than the glowing embers of the fire in the fireplace and another candle sitting on the table, which she must have lit on her way in.

"I brought you a cloak," she said, handing him a dark bundle that he unfurled to reveal a dark blue cloak. As he fastened it around his neck, Vesper said softly, "It belonged to my father."

Shard instantly froze.

"He wore it the day he took me where I'm about to take you. I didn't even think about it when I picked it up, but it seems oddly fitting, don't you think?" She smiled sadly, then said even more softly, "We should get going."

Vesper crossed the room; Shard followed at her side, growing more and more curious by the minute. What on earth was this thing she was taking him to see? The origin of the Ambassadors? A mighty weapon filled with dreadful power? The skeleton of a mighty Dragon King?

Vesper stopped when she came to the stretch of wall next to the table. She reached out and pushed against the wall with one hand, and to Shard's astonishment, a panel opened in the wall that had seemed to be made of stone, opening inward on silent hinges. Vesper stepped through the narrow doorway it made, the light of her candle revealing a narrow passageway beyond. She turned and beckoned him to follow.

"But...Shynael won't fit," Shard said numbly, watching as Vesper started down the passageway.

"We will remain here," Vannasai said calmly. "I will explain to Shynael, and he can see through your eyes. Go."

Shard glanced at Shynael, who shrugged and nodded, then hurried after Vesper's receding candlelight. He easily caught up with her, but as the passageway was barely wide enough for two to walk abreast, he stayed a step behind her. The passageway didn't go straight for very long before it began to curve gently to the left, sloping downwards as well. Shard looked over his shoulder, but all he could see was blackness. Shivering, he pulled his cloak tighter about himself and kept close to Vesper and her candle.

Vesper said nothing as they walked, heading steadily down and to the left all the time. Shard saw no passageways splitting off this one; it seemed to continue in this way until the end...wherever that would be. Shard soon lost all sense of time. He couldn't tell how long they'd been walking; it was always the same, monotonous gentle curve with Vesper's candle bobbing hypnotically in front of him. It was chilly, but all the same Shard felt sleepy and unresponsive, as though this was just another part of his nightmare and he couldn't wake up.

They kept walking and walking and walking, and just when Shard was about to ask if they were almost there, the passageway suddenly straightened out again. He shook himself to wake his sleepy mind, and followed Vesper through a doorway into the giant cavern beyond. Shard stared around in awe; this was like a mirrored replica of the courtyard far above them. It was made of the same stone-like material, a huge circular room with doorways like gaping cave mouths lined up along the circumference of the circle. There were many dark, indiscernible lumps littered around on the floor, and there were a few campfires burning in the middle of the room, smoke rising in a tall, thin column up to a hole in the ceiling. The room was very quiet, with only a faint rustling sound Shard couldn't quite pinpoint.

Vesper led Shard across the floor, heading towards the fires in the middle. They had not gone far when suddenly a woman stood in front of them. Shard blinked in surprise; he hadn't seen her approach them, but there she was, as if she had always been there and he had only noticed her now. It was as though she had sprouted up from the ground...but as he thought about it, he realized that one of the shapeless lumps that had been in their path was no longer there. Putting two and two together and looking around himself, Shard recognized the lumps for what they were: people wearing rags, either sitting hunched up or lying on the floor. All of them were utterly still, except when Shard squinted hard at them, and saw that they were indeed breathing.

Shard quickly returned his attention to the woman who stood before them when Vesper whispered to her, "Hello, Maria."

[the_wolfs_howl]

Maria, who was dressed in a ragged yet clean dress of an ambiguous brownish color, bowed very low to Vesper, then turned to Shard and bowed low to him as well. She straightened again, though she kept her eyes cast down.

"It's all right, Maria," Vesper whispered. "This is Shard; he's a friend of mine. He wants to help you, too. Shard, meet Maria."

"Hello," Shard said – in a whisper, feeling the silence of the room pressing down on him.

Maria's eyes darted swiftly up to Shard's face, then dropped just as quickly. She whispered something that might have been "Hello."

"Maria," Vesper continued, still whispering, "Shard wants to know what it is that you all do down here."

Maria nodded, then motioned for them to follow her as she turned and led them across the floor. She almost seemed to glide, rather than walk, and her feet made no sound on the stone floor. Shard and Vesper's footsteps sounded deafening by comparison. Maria led them past many hunched up figures, and Shard looked at them out of the corners of his eyes, not wanting to stare. They all wore clothes as ragged as Maria's, and even the ones who had their eyes open stared ahead with glassy eyes, as though no thoughts were running through their heads. The sight of them made the hairs on the back of Shard's neck stand up.

Maria led them all the way to the fires in the middle of the room, and as they drew closer Shard saw that though only a few were lit, there were many piles of firewood just waiting to be lit. Maria stopped in front of the fires and whispered, "This is where we cook your meals, and we have tubs with water that we heat over the fires to wash clothes." It was hard to understand her, because her voice was so breathy it often faded seamlessly into the soft crackling of the flames.

"The smoke goes up there," Maria added, pointing to the hole above their heads. "I will take you to that room now." She set off again, heading towards one of the identical, narrow openings that Shard assumed led to passageways like the one that had brought them here. He realized as he looked around at all the doorways that he had no idea which one led to his room anymore. But as they followed Maria, something even more disturbing occurred to him. She said that was where they cook 'your' meals. Not 'our' meals. 'Your' meals.

Quickening his pace a little to catch up to Maria, Shard whispered, "Did you say you cook meals for us?"

Maria nodded once. "We have some fields in a clearing of the forest not far from here, and there are always hunting parties bringing meat back for the humans and dragons. On average, it takes us six hours to prepare each meal."

Shard had no idea what to say to this, but was spared the necessity as he looked up and found that they had reached the passageway. Maria didn't slacken her pace at all as she passed from the dimly-lit chamber to the pitch-black passageway, only dragging her fingers lightly across one wall to keep her bearings. Vesper still had her candle, so Shard stayed close to her.

This passageway wound up to the right, much more tightly than the one from Shard's room, and it was much shorter as well. Soon they emerged into a large rectangular chamber about half the size of the one they had just come from. A hole in the floor let the smoke from the fires into the room, where it was pulled through a much larger hole in the wall.

The heat in the room was stifling. There were several huge bonfires blazing in various places around the room, with what looked like giant iron kettles hanging over the flames from thick chains set into the ceiling. Each kettle had a capped opening about the size of Shard's head in the side, and on the other side was a strange contraption that looked a little like a blacksmith's bellows. A pipe rose from every kettle as well, branching off in different directions and disappearing through the ceiling or walls. Unlike the chamber below, this room was bustling with activity. Men, wearing nothing but a loincloth of rags on their sweaty bodies, moved purposefully about. Some lugged great buckets of water to the giant kettles and poured bucket after bucket through the capped openings. Others carried armloads of firewood in to feed the fires. And every bellows was manned by two half-naked workers, each pushing down one side of the giant bellows with their feet. Yet even amongst all this hustle and bustle, the men themselves made almost no sound at all.

Shard was so busy watching all this unfathomable action that he almost missed what Maria whispered next. "This is where we make steam," she said, sounding like the hissing kettles herself. "We boil the water here, and it makes steam that our machines-" she pointed to one of the giant bellows "-push through the pipes, which carry the heat to different rooms. It is what heats your rooms. There is a miniature version of each kettle beneath the floor of each room to heat the bath. The men trade off shifts to work in here; the shifts last five hours. Some have collapsed while working the bellows towards the end of their shift, because of the heat."

Shard stared at her in horror as she whispered this. It was always hard to distinguish emotions in whispers, but Maria had no expression on her face, except for the faintest look of grim pity. Then she turned away and started back down the passageway. Shard gazed at the workers pressing on doggedly at their tasks. The men at the bellows had a dazed, half-asleep look on their faces as they pushed the bellows down, let up, pushed down, let up....

Vesper touched him on the elbow, and he tore himself away. As he turned to follow Maria into the darkness, he caught a glimpse of Vesper's face. She wiped a tear away, but she didn't look surprised.

Shard felt terrible all the way down, and it wasn't from the sudden change in temperature. All this time, he had enjoyed long, luxurious warm baths every day, not knowing his comfort had been wrung from exhausted men about to collapse.

When they returned to the main chamber, Maria turned to them, her eyes downcast as usual. "That is mostly what we do here. We clean up after you, make sure you are comfortable.... We are all assigned to one of you, and it is our duty to see to your needs."

Shard looked around the room again, at the dozens and dozens of people. "Where did you all come from?"

"Some were born here," Maria whispered. "Most of us, myself included, were captured from towns nearby. Captured...or sold. For the freedom of the rest of our towns. It was a sacrifice we thought we were willing to make." Her eyes flickered with some old, forgotten memory, but there was still no expression on her face.

"But...I don't understand," Shard protested in a harsh whisper, starting to feel a little desperate. "Why didn't I know there were any people down here until now?"

"We must be very quiet," Maria whispered, her voice hardly audible. "It is our job to do our duties as if we did not exist. A good servant is an invisible servant. If one of us is too loud...then we may all be punished." For the first time, she showed a real emotion. Her eyes widened with fear, and an uncontrollable shudder ran down her small frame.

"Punished? By whom?"

Maria hugged herself, shuddering slightly and closing her eyes. "Legacy," she whispered.

Shard felt as though he had jumped off Shynael's back and was falling head over heels, with no hope of being caught. "What?"

Maria's arms slowly fell back to her sides. "Legacy. She was the one who captured us in the first place. When she took us, she said, [i]I don't want to know you exist, and if you remind me you do, I'll kill you all very slowly. She fed one of our number to her dragon to prove it." Her hands had begun to tremble, even though she stood limply, with her tired eyes on the floor.

"No!" Shard cried. "She wouldn't! Legacy's not like that!"

His voice cut through the still air, and for a long moment everyone seemed to be holding their breath. Shard realized why: They thought that if Legacy heard him, she would kill them all. He quickly shut his mouth. Vesper bit her lip, whispered, "We should go now," and drew Shard away from Maria, who almost seemed to blend in with the stone floor as soon as they left her.

Shard was afraid to speak again while they crossed the large room and started up the passageway again, but his mind was furiously at work. All these people, working and living and dying beneath his feet while he went obliviously about his day! He scoffed at himself now, wondering how he could ever have thought that all the cooking of the food and the cleaning of his room was done by magic. What a juvenile thought! Of course someone had to do those things! Why did he never wonder about it more? Why hadn't he asked someone?

But Legacy.... He didn't want to believe that she was capable of such a thing. She was so.... But what reason would Maria have had to lie to him? Unless Vesper had told her to say that so Vesper could- No. Shard forcefully quelled that thought. Vesper wasn't like that. Vesper was kind, thoughtful, caring. She had saved his life not once, but twice. She understood him. She had shared secrets with him. She wouldn't try to manipulate his emotions just to strike at Legacy. She wasn't that vengeful.

What did that mean for Legacy? Shard looked uneasily at Vesper, who silently led the way back to his room. They're mistaken, he decided. Vesper's not lying to me intentionally; she really does think Legacy is responsible for all this. But she's wrong. She has to be.

Shard tried not to wonder why he wasn't too convinced.

[Esoteric]

Wow. This revelation just turned everything on its ear. I...hardly know what to think at this point. How could the slaves be so well hidden--unless they have means of constantly watching the ambassadors? (in order to avoid them). And if they watched/knew all the ambassadors, how could they be so overwhelmingly cowed by them? But I guess it's just Legacy they are terrified of. Wow. It's just so... so... hypocritical. This doesn't speak well for their uh, inter-species negotiation efforts. I'll have to wait for more to know what to think.

[the_wolfs_howl]

*snicker snicker* It worked! That's precisely the reaction I was hoping for. But yeah, you'll need the next section to kind of get a handle on this new information. Stay tuned!

[kryptech]

Whoa... The Ambassadors' world just got a whole lot bigger, more complicated, and much less big-happy-family. I never really considered who cared for Shard but I never got the impression of anyone else around the area aside from the Ambassadors and the dragons. Quite the revelation! And the blame is cast at Legacy's feet?! Scandalous! I'll be very curious to see how this is developed.

And congrats on the 100 page milestone!

[the_wolfs_howl]

*gleeful giggle* I feel like I've just eaten a huge block of Belgian chocolate. You don't know how happy you've both made me, because your reactions are showing me that I'm at least pointed in the right direction here. "Scandalous", eh? Troo di doo la la! (Where does that come from, Eso? )

[Esoteric]

[quote="the_wolfs_howl (post: 1286661)"] Troo di doo la la! (Where does that come from, Eso? ]

I've racked my brain, but I can't place it. (The first thing it made me think of that old CDi Zelda game, The Faces of Evil, but I think they said, 'Tra dil li da!' in that.) Is it from something you wrote? That's my other gut hunch....

Man...and I'm normally so good with placing quotes. Inconceivable!

[Lil_Ninja]

Inconceivable!

You keep using that word.. I do not think it means what you think it means.

(Sorry, couldn't resist XP)

[the_wolfs_howl]

:?:
I've racked my brain, but I can't place it. (The first thing it made me think of that old CDi Zelda game, The Faces of Evil, but I think they said, 'Tra dil li da!' in that.) Is it from something you wrote? That's my other gut hunch....

Man...and I'm normally so good with placing quotes. Inconceivable!

(They really need to have an evil laugh emoticon on this site....) You're so close, Eso! It actually comes from The Legend of Zelda: Wind Waker! There's this girl...Maggie, I think her name is? She used to be the daughter of a poor man, but then when she was kidnapped with all the other young maidens a Moblin named Moe fell in love with her apparently, and sent her back with lots of riches. And so whenever you talk to her after that, she's always going on about her dear Moe, and she usually ends her speech with "Troo di doo la la!"

[Esoteric]

You keep using that word.. I do not think it means what you think it means.

Hehe, a battle of wits, is it? ]You're so close, Eso! It actually comes from The Legend of Zelda: Wind Waker! There's this girl...Maggie, I think her name is? [/QUOTE]
Doh! Well, I'm less good at video game quotes...especially when they aren't actually spoken ones.

[the_wolfs_howl]

Author's Note: At first I was worried I wouldn't be able to get this done, because I usually write it on Sunday, and last Sunday I was so exhausted I didn't get much written. But I needn't have worried; I tackled it again on Monday and got it finished. This is the calm before the storm, guys. Next time all hell breaks loose

The first thing Shard saw when he and Vesper emerged from the passageway was Shynael's face, looking shocked and outraged. "Shard...."

Shard nodded heavily. "I know." He sank down into a chair and dropped his head into his hands. His head was throbbing with the implications of this new knowledge that had been thrust upon him. He looked up again, and saw that Vesper had closed the hidden panel; he couldn't even see the edges of the doorway anymore. Vesper stood, eyes flitting nervously between him and the ground.

Trying to voice his anger at the injustice of it all, Shard snapped, "Why didn't I know about this before? Why didn't anyone tell me?"

Vesper flinched, but said nothing. Shard's question seemed to hang in the air, sounding loud after such a long time of hushed silence. Frustrated, Shard pushed himself back to his feet again and began to pace back and forth. "You say your father told you about all of this?" he asked Vesper in a gentler voice.

"Yes," Vesper said softly, setting her candle gently down on the table next to the other one. "He brought me down there to see where all this luxury came from. He said the Ambassadors were a joke at their core. We say we want to bring peace to the world, but we're only making things worse. And you saw how everything was built right in to this structure; the passageways extend all the way down the tree. You know what that means? The Ambassadors were like this from the very beginning."

Shard froze mid-pace and turned to stare at Vesper in horror. Such a thought had never occurred to him, but naturally, Vesper had had a much longer time to think about things. So the Ambassadors were nothing but a bunch of posers, pretending to be the only hope for dragons and humans, yet keeping a secret population of slaves beneath the floor.

"I always thought something was strange," Shynael said. "I mean, Legacy always says our goal is peace, but then we just keep on fighting."

Vesper glanced furtively over at Shard when he said Legacy's name, as if afraid he would start shouting again. Instead, Shard just resumed his pacing, kneading his forehead with his knuckles as a headache began to pound against his skull. "What did your father do after he showed you everything?" Shard asked, squeezing his eyes shut as his mind whirled.

"Nothing," Vesper said sadly. "He said there were bigger battles to fight, and once those were won we would see what we could do. But then he died, and...I didn't know what to do on my own. Then everything started happening all at once, and I was sent away to solitary confinement. But I wasn't completely alone." A tiny smile found its way onto her face. "You wouldn't believe how quiet it was there, with no one around for miles. If I stayed really still, I could hear someone moving around just out of sight. Finally I managed to come face-to-face with Maria, and once I convinced her I wasn't going to feed her to my dragon, we struck up a sort of friendship."

"As much of a friendship as someone like that can have," Vannasai said with a roll of her eyes.

"Don't mock her," Vesper said, suddenly stern. It was the first time Shard had ever seen her speak sharply with her dragon. "It is not her fault she's in such a position, and our kind is to blame for putting her there in the first place."

Vannasai seemed to shrink. "You're right," she said, ducking her head and looking abashed. "I'm sorry."

Hoping to change the subject, Shard continued pacing from one end of the room to the other. "Somehow, this has to change. This slavery has to stop. We have to do something – I don't know what, but I can't just sit around knowing there are people living and dying beneath my feet, their only purpose in life to see to my comforts!"

He made a few rounds while everyone else remained silent, waiting for him to come to some conclusion. Reluctantly, Shard turned his thoughts to the accusation against Legacy. How in the world could anyone say she had done something so terrible? How could anyone think she was even capable of feeding a live human being to Linygae? The very idea was preposterous, absurd. This all was just a big misunderstanding. It had to be.

Shard slowly came to a stop and looked at Vesper, hardening his determination. "I don't know what to think about...about Legacy. As soon as it's morning, we'll call a meeting. We'll confront Legacy, see what she has to say about this." Maybe she doesn't even know a thing, he added hopefully to himself, but he knew it was probably wishful thinking.

"If I'm not mistaken," Vannasai said with a wry smile, "It's morning now."

Shard looked around in surprise; he hadn't thought this escapade had taken that long. But sure enough, he saw a spot of growing light that was the doorway to the room. Heaving a sigh, he said, "All right. Let me get some real clothes on, and then I'll meet you in the courtyard. We'll do this together."

---------

By the time Shard and Shynael emerged into the courtyard, early morning sunlight peeked out through the leaves overhead. Advent and Andrael were already there, waiting for the others. When their eyes met, Advent scowled and turned to mutter something to his dragon. Shard felt uneasy, and kept close to Shynael as they made their way towards the center. Vesper and Vannasai swiftly joined them, Vesper standing close to Shard and exuding an aura of anxiety. Shard found himself strangely pleased to see that she had left her cloak behind.

Then Legacy strode out of her room, already decked out in her armor. She gave Shard a questioning look, as if wondering why he hadn't put on his armor yet, but she raised a hand in greeting. Shard waved back miserably, feeling his stomach drop to his toes. This was it. He had to ask her the dreadful question now, and no matter what her answer would be, it would change everything. Even if Vesper was wrong, Maria was lying, and Legacy had been joking, nothing would be the same anymore. Even just the suggestion would change the way they looked at him, and he them.

When Legacy drew closer, Shard took a deep breath and stepped forward. He could feel Vesper's eyes on the back of his head. He opened his mouth to say, "Legacy, we need to talk." But before he could make a sound, the thunderous sound of a dozen wings crashed through the air. Whump-whoosh, whump-whoosh. The branches overhead began to blow wildly in the sudden gust of wind, and Shard caught glimpses of dragons flying past, just snatches of brightly-colored scales. "The King is dead!" a dragon's voice trumpeted. "Let the Talon begin!"

The dragons swiftly passed, but the one dragon's voice still echoed through the air. "The King is dead! Let the Talon begin!"

When Shard looked down again, he saw that Legacy's face was transformed, covered with a look of absolute triumph. "Yes!" she breathed, and before Shard could ask her anything, she swung up onto Linygae's back. She cast her gaze swiftly over everyone, including Gyvael, who had poked her head out the door to see what all the commotion was. "We are entering the Talon!" she cried to them all, piling her long dark hair on top of her head and pulling her helmet on over it. "Linygae and I! Advent, Andrael! You will be our seconds. Hurry; we have to catch up!" And with that, Linygae shot into the air, the same look of intense joy on her face. Advent, looking as though he could hardly contain himself, swung up onto Andrael’s back, and they shot after the others. Soon they disappeared from sight, the beating of their wings faded away, and the courtyard was left in a stunned silence.

[the_wolfs_howl]

Gyvael pulled her head back, a look of distaste on her face, and Shard turned to Vesper. "What's the Talon?"

Vesper looked overwhelmed, but valiantly tried to pull herself together enough to answer him. "It's...when a Dragon King dies, and then there's a tournament kind of thing. Basically a big battle among the dragons who think they're strong enough. The last one standing becomes the next Dragon King. And if there are enough challengers, a Talon can be called while the King is still living. My...My father told me there was a Talon soon after he came here, but the King defeated all his challengers. That was where he lost his eye."

Shard remembered meeting the mighty black dragon with one eye, and found it hard to believe that anyone would dare oppose him. But now he was dead. "And Legacy entered the Talon?" he asked in amazement.

"She's gotta be crazy!" Shynael said in a tone halfway between outrage and awe.

"I never expected her to do that," Vesper admitted. "I mean, I knew she was worried about what would happen once the Dragon King died, but I never thought...."

"Do any of the contestants survive the Talon?" Shard asked nervously.

"Only one." Vannasai shuddered. "The Talon isn't over until the only ones still living are the champion and any seconds he might have selected. It's a brutal bloodbath; I can't imagine why Legacy would-"

"She wants to be the Queen," Vesper said, looking stunned.

Shard's headache returned full-force. Legacy, the Queen? He could easily see her in that role, he supposed, and he could see the importance of Ambassadors on the throne, but what a risk she was taking to get there! "Do you think she'll...make it?"

Vesper looked confused and worried. "I don't know. She and Linygae are very good fighters, but...the stamina it takes.... Not many females enter the Talon. And...." She dropped her eyes to the ground. "I'm ashamed to say this," she whispered, "but I'm not sure if I want her to win or not."

Shard didn't know what to say to that, so he chose to remain silent.

"There's nothing we can do but wait," Vannasai gently interjected. "The heralds will come by when it's over and announce the outcome. For now, why don't we just have breakfast?"

Shynael and Vannasai opted to go hunting for their meal this time, so Shard entered his room alone. He was still trying to wrap his head around the idea of Legacy and Linygae as Dragon Queens, and the pounding in his head didn't make it any easier. As ever, his breakfast sat on a plate on the table, ready and waiting for him. He crossed to the room and was about to sit down when it dawned on him where this meal had come from. On average, it takes us six hours to prepare each meal.

Shard stared at the innocuous plate before him, and he could see the sweating, weary men laboring over the steam machines again. He saw all those people with dull and lifeless eyes, strewn about the large room below like so many useless rags. All those people had been working for hours already, just to make a single meal for him. The pounding in his head grew worse, and his stomach churned at the sight of food that was the product of so many people's blood, sweat, and tears.

Suddenly he felt bile rising in his throat, and he looked desperately around for something so he wouldn't be sick all over himself and give those poor people even more work to do. Then he spied a chamber pot sitting on the floor a few feet away, and he vomited into it. Even as he did so, it occurred to him where this chamber pot had come from, and tears filled his eyes.

When he had emptied his stomach, he shakily got to his feet again. He grabbed the goblet that had been provided him and emptied it in the attempt to get the foul taste out of his mouth, but he couldn't bear the thought of eating that food. His appetite had completely abandoned him. "I'm sorry," he whispered to the room, and he wondered if it was just his imagination that the silence took on a sense of someone listening intently. Wiping his eyes and trying his best to compose himself, he turned away from the table. "I'm not hungry anymore. Please...take the food and eat it yourselves. You need it more than I do."

Taking a shaky breath, Shard strode right back the way he had come. He forced himself not to look over his shoulder as he left.

Shard waited in his doorway until the dragons returned, then followed them into Vesper's room. "I think we should talk to Glaive and Gyvael," he announced when Vesper stood up to meet them. "They'll have a better idea of what to do."

Vesper looked away and nodded slowly.

Shard frowned. "What is it?"

"I just hope he'll listen to you."

"Of course he'll listen to me!" Shard said, but even as he said those words doubt rose inside of him. Did no one pay attention to anyone around here?

Shard led the way to the room he thought was Glaive's, and stepped hesitantly through the massive doorway. "H-Hello?" he called, wishing there was a door he could knock instead.

He heard the rumble of Gyvael's voice from farther in the room, then Glaive's voice echoed to him. "Don't just stand there in the doorway, boy; come in or go back out, take your pick."

Shard hastened down the entryway, the others close on his heels. When he came to the end of the short flight of stairs, he looked around in amazement. The only rooms he had ever been in were his own and Vesper's, and since Vannasai was only a little larger than Shynael, they were almost identical. Glaive's room, however, was enormous. The ceiling rose to astounding heights, and the sheer size of the room was breathtaking. It also seemed more personalized than the other rooms, somehow. The walls were hung with black cloths that gave the room an air of mourning. Racks of weapons lined the walls as well, but somehow Shard could tell these were just for decoration, not intended for actual use. They were a collection of curious, foreign-looking weaponry – curved swords, strangely shaped spears, and odd bladed weapons that looked very unwieldy. In one corner was what looked like a sort of shrine: a full suit of black armor on a stand, shined to perfection, and before it a table with a faded, embroidered cloth underneath an Ambassador sword.

Suddenly Shard's attention was diverted to movement off to the side, and he turned his head to see Glaive rise to his feet from the chair he had been sitting in, close to the suit of armor. He dropped the book he had been reading into the chair and crossed his arms, quirking an eyebrow quizzically. Shard realized this was the first time he had ever seen Glaive in anything but his brilliant purple armor; the man looked smaller, somehow, in rich silk clothes. Gyvael reclined at his side, a mountain of scales that glittered in the light from the fireplace.

"Any particular reason for the entourage?" Glaive asked, gesturing to the people behind Shard.

"We need to...tell you about something," Shard began nervously. Glaive was a good teacher, but he had never been particularly easy to approach with a question. He wished one of the others would bail him out, but this was something he had to do. "You see...it's about where our food comes from, and who takes care of cleaning up and everything." His heart sank as he heard himself. He sounded like he was making this up as he went along. "Well, there are these people who-"

"Yes, I know."

"You...what?"

Glaive sighed tiredly and rubbed his eyes with one hand. "I've been here for twenty-eight years, Shard. You think I wouldn't have figured it out in nearly three decades?"

Dumbfounded, Shard could only gape at him. Shynael took a step forward and snarled, "If you knew all this time, then why didn't you do anything about it?"

Glaive shrugged. "What's to do? They have a job as well as me."

"But they're prisoners!" Shard protested. "They're slaves! Have you seen what their lives are like? We have to help them!"

Glaive picked up his book again and sat back down, looking almost bored. "Why?"

Shard couldn't believe his ears. "Why?! They're humans, just the same as you or me! How would you like to be treated like an animal?"

"They're not treated like animals, Shard," Glaive sighed, resting his head in one hand. "They're treated like what they are – servants. Would you go into a castle and tell off the king for not treating his servants like equals? Of course they're not equal; they're not meant to be! It's the way things are."

Shard clenched his fists and advanced on Glaive, ignoring Vesper's whispered entreaty for him to stop. "So you think of yourself as a king, do you, Glaive?" he spat out through his teeth. "You think you're so much more special than them? Then why didn't you go and join this stupid Talon thing too?"

"Shard, I'm an old, weary man who wants nothing more but peace to live out the rest of my days."

Shard had come right up to Glaive, and glared straight into his weary eyes.
"Is that any excuse for letting this injustice continue?" he asked in a voice trembling with rage.

Glaive said nothing, and Shard clicked his tongue in irritation. Spinning around, he stomped back out of the room. "Come on," he told the others. "I can see we're not going to get anywhere with this 'weary old man'."

The others hurried after him, Shynael muttering imprecations under his breath. The disappointment with this short-lived interview tasted bitter in Shard's mouth. He had thought that Glaive, of all people, would be someone he could turn to at a time like this.