“I sure hope he knows where he’s going,” SoYa muttered, half to himself, half to the plume of white that tracked his breath in the cold air.

It felt as if the temperature had plummeted at least ten degrees with the last five steps that the Apprentice had taken. Tall stone loomed far above his head, walls slick with the illusion of perpetual melting. It looked as if someone had taken a white-hot sword and gutted the belly of a mountainside from end to end. And now they were proceeding down through the middle of this slice.

Footing was slick. It was all that he and Father could do to ease Thorne down the slipping incline. The rhawn’s hooves clattered as they toiled, the sound amplified as it reflected back from the walls. The further down they went, the more the ground seemed to tilt, as if in attempt to funnel their party into the gaping maw of the Cleft below.

“Relax,” Father assured him. His own breath seemed to be more artistic somehow, fancy loops of white emerging from the hollow of the elder man’s collar. “There’s not many who can tread this Passage. But Kudako’s one of them.”

The sky had forgotten its color. The deep blues of a mild, summer midday had grown pale to the point of being clear. The plant life had long forsaken this area of stone, leaving the crown of the ravine baldly unadorned. Nowhere else had the Cleft felt this inhospitable. Everything about it felt wrong. SoYa’s mind could feel the pressure closing in. Like sinking underwater, without breath.

And they were walking directly into the heart of it.

AsaHi gave a quiet yelp as she lost her footing, sliding down the incline past the struggling rhawn. SoYa’s first instinct was to release the reigns and reach for her. But Kudako was there in a reflex faster than the Apprentice’s eyes could follow, his big hand catching the back of her cloak, holding her fast.

The girl stared back over her shoulder, breath coming in panicked whirls. Her scared green eyes reflected strangely under the colorless sky.

“Careful,” was all that the Dragon told her.

Kudako seemed unaffected by the changes of the landscape, feet picking the path down the incline as if he had been that way many times before. His ears stood perked, whole body a fluid stream of motion. His breath did not make patterns in the cold air.

The Dragon had dutifully led them along the lip of the Cleft for a number of days before announcing that morning they were nearing the Passage. Earlier that morning, they had begun securing all of their belongings under his supervision, Father stressing over and over the need to follow Kudako’s instructions to perfection.

SoYa had thought it was against all common sense to put layers of heavy clothes on in the middle of warm weather. It had been the nicest, clearest days they had seen so far that summer. But the others had followed the Dragon’s instructions. Even AsaHi who shot Kudako’s back with a volley of skeptic looks as she wrapped a large red stretch of cloth over the top of her thick over-tunics.

It hadn’t taken the group long to realize the wisdom of the Dragon’s commands. They had all felt the unnatural chill seeping into their skin as Kudako led them to the Passage. The Breath of the Dead, Father had muttered.

The bottom of the incline was merciful. Rather than dumping them headlong, it flattened out into a small shelf of stone. Like the sky, the stone here had lost its color, becoming a nauseous transparent hue.

Nauseous is right.

SoYa could feel his stomach clenching and unfolding as his frozen fingers clutched the reigns of the rhawn’s halter.

“Easy, Thorne. Easy there, we’ll have you over and on the other side before you know it,” Father was already fitting blinders over the creature’s slender head. His voice was coaxing, even to SoYa’s ears.

AsaHi was crouching alarmingly close to the edge of the shelf, peering down into the mouth of the chasm below. She was a tiny speck of white and red against the vast backdrop of churning fog that rose from the Cleft that obscured the view of the other side.

If there is another side.

SoYa swallowed.

But Father seems to believe that Kudako knows where he’s going. I don’t think there’s much of a choice at this point but to trust him.

“This is the Passage?” the girl glanced boldly down into the nothingness below. Her tone was level as she stated the obvious kink in the logic. “There’s no bridge or anything. How are we going to get across?”

“I will make the way,” Kudako informed her.

“Where do all the clouds come from?” AsaHi looked back at the three men, her slender hand detailing the wall of sickly fog that stood before them. Between them and their destination.

Clouds?  Only AsaHi could give it such a harmless name.

“The Breath,” Father said for the second time. This time he left off the “dead” part.

“What is it?” the girl inquired, scooting back from the edge with a wary stare.

“It keeps things out of here. So nothing wanders across,” Kudako said simply, adjusting the strap of his pack without looking at her.

“Oh…” AsaHi didn’t look content with the insufficient answer.

“Truth is, we don’t really know what it is,” Father stepped in to cover for the Dragon’s lack of conversation. “This is the only point that the Breath occurs in the Cleft that we’ve observed. It is also the only point at which anyone can cross to the other side of the Cleft. So I doubt that it is a coincidence.”

Is anything coincidence when you’re dealing with the force of Lord Zemi?

SoYa had other questions on his mind. Namely, “So what does it do… to ‘keep things out of here’?”

He had almost imitated Kudako’s gruff demeanor with the repetition of the phrase. But he thought better of it and let the question lie in his own clear tone.

“Very cold. Can be toxic. Induces mind illusions,” the Dragon’s gold eyes fell heavily upon the Apprentice. His voice bit off each word with distaste.

For the first time, SoYa sensed that Kudako was the least-enthusiastic of their group about making the cross into the Outterlands. He couldn’t help but wonder why.

“Toxic? Illusions?” AsaHi’s voice worried.

“Only if you breathe it too long,” Father reassured her. “And we don’t plan on hanging out here any more than we have to.”

“Illusions come no matter what,” Kudako interrupted the gentle flow of the winged man’s words. His hand flicked out, dropping a strip of cloth at SoYa’s feet. Then one to AsaHi. “They come to anything that isn’t one of Lord Zemi’s kind. They are meant to induce fear… to cause the intruder to turn back.”

SoYa reached down and saw that the cloth was a blindfold. Something inside him welled, a feeling of insult.

Mind illusions? I should be able to fight those off, right?

“Blindfold?” AsaHi echoed his surprise.

Wouldn’t that prove to Father that I’m not weak? That I’m just as strong as TsuYa?

His thoughts made him bold enough to blurt, “I can handle this.”

“SoYa…” Father’s tone, stern. Plainly stating all in one word that the Apprentice could not handle it. That he would put the blindfold on, as instructed.

“Father… I can!” SoYa protested, trying to bend the steel of his father with watery words. “What’s the point in all the training you’ve put me through, otherwise?”

“SoYa,” Father said again. This time he followed it up. “There will be plenty of times to test your strength in the future. Now is not one of them.”

He’s still treating me like a child..!

Kudako peered between father and son, a statue of silence.

Even after I’ve worked so hard in training… He won’t even acknowledge that I can hold my own yet!

SoYa’s fingers curled in the folds of the cloth. He could feel the heat of his flushed cheeks and the desire to push the argument further. But the soft weight of AsaHi’s gaze on him brought the Apprentice back to his senses. He watched as the girl silently unfolded her own cloth and strung it across her eyes, as if an example to him. Even in obedience, the strength of her will did not seem to diminish.

The Apprentice’s shoulders drooped. “Yes, sir.”

Father’s expression was concerned despite the grudging obedience in the words. It looked as if he wanted to say something. But no words reached between them.

SoYa grit his teeth, turning his attention back to his rhawn.

“I’ll take care of Thorne’s crossing,” Father stated, with that uncanny way he had in sensing the unspoken. “You just hold on to the strap… don’t let go.”

Kudako knotted a slender blend of rope through the loop at his belt, wrapping the other end gently around one of AsaHi’s wrists. His voice was low as he knelt in front of her, checking to see if the girl’s blindfold was on properly. “Stay near me. I will lead you through.”

AsaHi dipped her head towards his voice, in the way that a blinded person nods.

No more words to waste. No more actions spared. Kudako turned and led the way towards the shelf’s edge. A hazy reflection of blue and gold walked under his feet, the red of AsaHi’s cloak trailing behind the procession.

“Father… what is he do–” SoYa protested, feeling a sudden uneasy jolt in the pit of his stomach.

“SoYa, put your blindfold on.”

But the Apprentice did not. His green eyes were fixed on the shapes making their way towards the looming maw of the Cleft. He felt his mouth parched dry with fear. Every inch of his being wanted to race out and pull AsaHi away from the drop.

Only faith in his Father’s trust of the Dragon held him planted where he stood.

Kudako’s stride met the brink. The next one took him beyond where vaporous air churned. Nothingness.

No… no… don’t take AsaHi!

And the nothingness ceased to be.

Wha…?

Utter shock swept through his body at the spectacle that painted out before them. Where there had only been air, Kudako’s boot made a print upon something solid. A soft, golden light seemed to spread from his form. It washed down around him, around AsaHi, illuminating a clear trail of solidity that had not been visible before.

SoYa couldn’t tell if it was a Passage created by magical means, rising to the whims of the Dragon Servant. Or if it was simply part of the stone, a transparent bridge across the void, not perceptible until cast in the right light. The Apprentice watched, still choked with the lingering after-effects of fear, listening to the soft patters of AsaHi’s footsteps growing more distant.

“Put your blindfold on,” Father repeated, urging Thorne forward. “We’ve got to cross now. Have to stay close to Kudako.”

Too stunned to argue, SoYa pulled the deep cloth over his face, obscuring his vision. The world became all sound and touch. He felt the heated bulk of the rhawn jolt forward, led carefully by the determination of Father’s hand.

Hedd-ynad..!

At first, the Apprentice’s feet moved gingerly forward. The thought of being led across the yawning divide left his imagination running in frightened circles. Trusting his father as he might, his heart still beat in rapid patterns against his chest, reminding him constantly of the fate that lay far below.

“Relax, now…” his father’s voice was calm. SoYa couldn’t tell who the winged man was addressing. “Just a short walk and it will be behind us.”

In the crack between his cheek and the blindfold, he could see a slit of golden light. His step faltered, knowing he was now on the impossible bridge. But no pause was allowed. He was tugged forward, grasping for the solid safety of Thorne’s side.

Relax…

The Apprentice held on to his father’s words, gathering his courage.

One foot. Next foot.

Step by step. The bridge was holding steady. They were moving forward. So far, they were safe.

“We’re nearing the Breath,” Kudako’s voice came from the other side of the darkness. A potent warning. “Stay together… we need to get through this as quickly as we can.”

“SoYa?” AsaHi’s voice. It sounded concerned… as if she needed to know that he was still out there somewhere.

“I’m okay,” he told her.

“Keep walking,” was Kudako’s reply.

Thorne clomped forward, the motions growing strangely heavy. The air grew suddenly bitter in chill, even more than it had been on the incline. The strip of light under the hem of SoYa’s blindfold dimmed, then faded completely.

Instantly he missed it, not recognizing what little comfort it had brought until it was gone.

~Father…~

Mindspeak. It came sudden, almost naturally. He didn’t want to alarm AsaHi with the fear that would have squelched from his spoken words.

-Keep moving, SoYa…-

The answer was distant. Distorted. It hardly felt like his father’s words.

Now there was only darkness seeping up from beneath the blindfold. SoYa could feel the motion of things drifting, brushing up against his arms… his legs. Past his hat.

In his mind, he could sense it… the shadows of dead things, walking next to him. His fingers were growing numb in the freeze. His mind began to blur, the pressure of dead air ripping at his lungs. He became unable to tell the lurch of Thorne from the passage of the Shades.

A sudden snapping sound. The halter strap, having grown brittle in the cold, broke under the pressure of his hand. SoYa found himself cast off, set free to drift in the specter’s sea.

~Father!~ his mind shrieked as he stumbled forward blindly, reaching with both hands. Nothing but frozen air.  ~Father, wait! I can’t find you!~

A distant moaning rushed into his ears. It sounded diluted, full of sorrow, twisting around him in the cold, stagnant air.

“AsaHi?” SoYa’s voice was hoarse. His feet shuffled in the direction of the sound before pulling to a stop.

I can’t see a thing! I could go right over the edge and not even know it!

“Father!!”

His breath ripped from his lungs. The Apprentice remembered what Kudako had said about the fog being toxic.

I can’t stay here…!

He shuffled forward a few more steps, lost to the darkness of the blindfold.

But I can’t make it across if I can’t see!

“Father!!” he shouted again, a frantic try. The feeling of displaced motion around him, as if the dead things were laughing at the futility of it all.

Hissing into the palms of his frozen hands to warm them, his fingers began to fumble. It was hard to separate the feel of the broken strap still twined around his hand from the cloth of the blindfold. Eventually, the Apprentice managed to wrench a finger under the flap and pull.

Vision unfolded around him as the cloth fell away. A churning mass of black cloud rose in vast pillars on every side, blocking the view in every direction. But he could see the bridge at his feet, still glowing very faintly from the passage of the others.

There!

He saw no sign of the dead things that his mind had sensed, as if peeling back the blindfold had vanquished the shapes. A thrill of victory rushed through him as he made his way forward on his own, blindfold dangling in one frozen hand.

I can do this!

The darkness began to part, slipping away as SoYa advanced, just as normal fog would. Determination rose within his chest, his footfalls becoming more certain upon the translucent bridge. He would find the rest of the party by his own means.

I told him I could handle it…

He wouldn’t cry out for his father’s help anymore.

“SoooYaaa?”

A shape began to take form in the shifting fog ahead of him. He heard the call of his name and saw the outline of wings. Instantly SoYa strode forward, knowing that he had been missed and that Father had turned back to look for him.

“I’m here! I’m okay!” the Apprentice shouted in return, a wave of relief rushing over him despite the triumph of his independence.

Wait till he sees…

“I told you I didn’t need to use the blindfo–”

The wings were the first thing SoYa saw. They unfolded like a living extension of the dark fog. These were not the gentle white of his father’s wings - they were blacker than the Breath that reared up, billowing and crashing over the bridge in midnight waves.

SoYa choked, eyes widening as he fought to gain his composure. His vision blurred, the shadows shifting as the Apprentice’s mind scrabbled to find focus. The rest of his body grew numb as the cold began to build around him, the only point of light left in the gale of black.

Marked..!

The face. Pale grey with a sickly, unliving hue. Slitted eyes glittered, the only light a reflection upon the dark green orbs. A clawed-shaped mark was scrawled upon the side of its face, the lower left cheek.

The hair was matted and black, like the wings -

Marked don’t have wings!

– the darkness broken by a thin shock of white hair, a bunched lock that hung down over one eye.

“SooooYaaa…” the voice, all too familiar. The grey face twisted into a dead grin with a manner of awareness that the other Marked had not possessed.

It did not advance any further. It did not need to. Mesmerized, image fit upon image, overlapping in SoYa’s mind.

“No…” a hoarse whisper came from between frozen lips. As he suddenly recognized the face, sickness welled up within the Apprentice’s stomach. He fought the revulsion that threatened to wrench him to his knees.

It’s not true…

The manner. The smirk. The voice, even distorted as it was.

This is just an illusion!

Blue robes. DuLlafn posed arrogantly in one hand.

This is just an illusion!

His brother. Taken… altered… one of the Marked!

Or… is it?

Within the moment of doubt, something within his mind gave. The vision grew, became overpowering. The Apprentice reeled, losing himself.

“TSUYA!!!!” A screech of horror ripped from SoYa’s throat.

Blindfold fluttering useless in one hand, he buckled to his knees and collapsed. The darkness rushed over him in a putrid swell from below.

~End Book Two~

TsuYa sat at the edge of the Island.

Every morning he came to watch as the morning fog burned away. It unfurled in a silent ritual until the mountains below emerged a deep green-grey, like a gift offered up, cupped in the palms of the earth. The clinging mists continued to shift, rising to play beaded dew upon the blades of grass between his fingers. Sometimes a streak of rainbow shone, flitting between the shadows of birds. And then was gone.

This was the world of his distant captivity. The earth below, though majestic in its rugged resolution, was dim in contrast to the vitality of Ceiswyr.

In the middle of the silence of his morning, the voice came. “So, yer the big lousy brute that made lil’ Suzume cry?”

“What?” TsuYa jerked his head around, a stunned expression on his face.

One of the winged people stood there — a girl with pale green eyes staring daggers into every unprotected area of his body. Her face had the look of one who had spent a lot of time in inhospitable lands, and had survived. Short-cropped white hair fell into her eyes in unmeasured clumps, not messy but not tame either. She wore men’s slacks and a small overshirt, looking not in the least bit girly.

Her hands were fixed sternly to her hips — a fact which he was glad about. Otherwise, it looked as if he might have been in danger of getting a fist in the face.

“You ‘eard me! What’s the big idea sending a lil’ girl off in tears!” she grated at him.

“That’s none of your business,” TsuYa frowned darkly.

Usually one dark frown was enough to make most people think a second time before proceeding to talk down to him. It seemed to not so much as ruffle the winged girl’s confidence.

Instead, she shoved a finger straight into his face.

“I’m all about knowin’ what’s goin’ on with the child! She’s been left to my care.” The finger began to wag with each accented syllable.

“Your care?” TsuYa brushed at an invisible strand of grass on his tunic front, making it very obvious that her display meant absolutely nothing to him.

“You ‘eard me right. I’m the one that’s lookin’ after her.”

“How come you’re never doing your job, then?”

“What?” her tone turned dangerous. Fists were balling at her sides, working in irritation. “Are you callin’ me negligent?”

“Actually, I was looking for that very word.” He smirked, “Thanks.”

TsuYa ducked back the moment he saw her fist flashing towards his face, just in time to avoid the tactical feint towards his nose. But he was not fast enough to realize the real blow was coming in a powerful upswing to his stomach.

Hedd-ynad!

TsuYa buckled over the ball of her fist with a sharp choke, face contorting in absolute shock.

“Yer welcome to it anytime.”

The winged girl flipped a strand of short hair as she pivoted on one foot and strode away. The very clouds parted in agitation as she passed through. The Apprentice couldn’t bring himself to blink until she had disappeared around the corner of the far building.

Then he fell to his knees with a low groan. He knelt there for a while, struggling to get his wits about him. It was certainly not what he had expected when he had set out to take a short walk that morning.

What kind of monster did Aunt SaRa put in charge of taking care of Suzume? No wonder the kid wants to hang around me all the time.

TsuYa had actually been feeling quite good about things up until now. Especially since he was getting the peace and quiet that he so longed for.

Well… he had been.

“My, my… Tsu… you are quite handy with the girls, aren’t you?”

A scowl crossed the Apprentice’s face. It took a moment of squinting into the sunlight before he could make out the shape that stood peering down at him.

“Aunt SaRa?”

Great… she saw that? Now I’m never going to live it down.

Her face was marked with a droll sort of concern. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he grumbled. “I’m fine.”

“Of course you are, dear.”

He winced, sitting up. The motion made him nearly sick to his stomach. “Come on. It’s not that bad.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” she gave a sly smirk.

TsuYa gave a long, painful breath as he hoisted himself to his feet. “What got into her? I’ve never even seen her before! I thought these winged people were supposed to be all good and nice and stuff.”

“Good and nice?” Aunt SaRa grinned. “Zento has wings. You tell me the last time your father ever been good?”

He paused for a moment. “Point taken. But still…”

“You’ll live.” She placed a cool hand on his forehead clicking her tongue, “But you really need to do better than that.”

“What do you mean?” he huffed.

“You don’t just go out of your way to insult people who come up to address you, Tsu.”

“Address me? She was practically ready to tear me apart from the first word!”

“She was just upset about Suzume,” Aunt SaRa frowned.

“Hey… I told you. It was just a joke. I didn’t mean anything by it.” TsuYa grimaced. “And I certainly didn’t do anything bad enough to deserve having my stomach relocated a foot higher in my internal body cavity!”

“She’s a tad… eccentric.”

“Yeah well, what’s Miss Eccentric doing taking care of the Little Girl from the Black Void?”

“Tsu…” she chided. “Be good.”

He huffed and glowered at his feet.

“She needs the responsibility.”

“You trust her with a little girl?”

“She’s well meaning. Just a bit over protective,” Aunt SaRa replied. “She’s also new here. She hasn’t quite adjusted to life here in Ceiswyr.”

“Well, I’m new too. But I don’t go around punching people in the stomach.”

“No… you just scare the little children with your big pointy weapon.”

TsuYa fought to hide his grimace with a growl, “And that gave her the right to punch me? Seriously? I didn’t even know her name!”

“Do you want to?” Aunt SaRa eyed him.

“No,” he snorted. “She could drop off the edge of this light-forsaken city for all I care.”

“Tsu!”

He frowned in return.

Aunt SaRa sighed gently. “Tsu… can’t you just b–”

“No,” he snapped sharply. “No. I’m sorry. But I’m not SoYa. If you want the soft spoken, well-mannered nice guy, go find him. Because you aren’t going to get that from me. Okay?”

The winged woman closed her mouth, folding her hands quietly in front of her chest. Instantly, TsuYa wished he could take the words back. But dark pride kept him from apologizing.

After all, I’m the victim here! Not her!

“Aunt SaRa… tell me something.”

She peered at him silently. Waiting.

“Why is it that no matter who I’m around… I always get blamed for this kind of crap?” Bitterness welled up within him. His words stung his eyes as he bit them off one by one, “Why does everyone hate me before they even know anything about who I am?”

When Aunt SaRa finally answered, her voice was stern. “It’s not entirely true… However, why people act the way they do towards you is something you are going to have to answer for yourself, TsuYa.”

“That’s what they all say. I think it’s just a bunch of–”

“Her name…” she interrupted, “Is JouKa.”

“I told you I didn’t want to know.”

“Too late. You know now whether you like it or not.”

His dark eyes grew narrow.

“And you better figure out a way to deal with her.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re both going to be helping watch over Suzume.”

“What?” his eyebrows shot up, then swept down in a deep scowl. “What do you mean watch over Suzume!”

“She requested you.”

“Requested me?” he demanded. “I thought the kid was scared to death of me. Why would she request me?”

“I don’t know. But she did. We asked her who she wanted as a caretaker and she pointed you out.” Aunt SaRa’s voice was obviously well pleased.

“Don’t I even get a say in this?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because it would be good for you to do it.”

“What if I refuse?”

“It’s partially because of you that she’s here to begin with,” the winged woman retorted quickly. The expression of self-shock afterwards indicated that she had let something slip.

TsuYa peered intently at her. His lips spoke the words though something within him warned sharply that the answer was better left unknown, “What do you mean?”

“We… will discuss that at a later time.”

“No. I want to know,” he demanded. “I want to know what happened!”

“Tsu…”

“I already have the idea that something happened between me and Suzume… It was back in Nefol, when I didn’t have control of myself, wasn’t it?” his face grew sharp. “And whatever it was still scares that kid senseless…”

Aunt SaRa fell silent.

“What is Llofruddiaeth?” TsuYa insisted.

Her face grew pale. “Where did you hear that word?”

“It’s what the kid called me before she took off the other day.”

She swallowed.

“What does it mean?”

“It’s… a terrible thing… to call someone else. I don’t know how she came by such a term.”

“Well?”

Aunt SaRa peered up at him with a slightly defeated expression on her face. “It translates loosely into ‘murderer’.  But it holds a connotation of the murderer being of highly twisted and evil intent.”

“Why would she call me that?” Something about it sent a chill racing through his whole body. His mind began to run wild in thought. “What… did I do to her, Aunt SaRa?”

“Why..? Because…” the winged woman peered down with a saddened look. “Tsu… I just made a fresh batch of cookies. Why don’t you come to the kitchen so we can talk?”

“AsaaaaaHiiiiiiiii?”

She heard a voice cry out her name. Then another voice echoed it.

The girl blinked awake at the sound, eyes blurring as the sunlight hit her full force. It took a long moment before she remembered where she was… and what she had been doing.

Zemi!

The memories of the night leapt into her mind. She had heard a despairing call from the forest and left camp to meet it. There she had met Zemi who had been, much to her surprise, very open with the troubles that he had found himself involved with. They had spent most of the rest of the night in silence, simply sitting side by side under the stars. Eventually, the wear and tear of the day had made its mark on AsaHi and the girl had fallen asleep at the Arweinydd’s side.

But now Zemi was gone. AsaHi woke up alone… to the sounds of concerned voices calling her name. It was the others… who had just finally realized she was missing. No doubt the Dreigiau must have had a hand in dulling their senses the night before if they were only just beginning to come out to look for her now.

AsaHi got to her feet. A heavy red cloak was draped around her shoulders. Considering it was far too big to be something she would ever wear, it could be mistaken for a blanket if she didn’t know it was a garment.

Zemi’s… cloak? He left it with me?

Not like the Arweinydd would really need an over cloak. She doubted that Zemi even felt the heat or the cold like they did. Not to mention he could probably whip up a brand new cloak for himself out of thin air with a single stray thought.

But still, it’s kinda sweet of him…

AsaHi flushed. Then she realized she was blushing… which made her flush all the more.

“AaaaasaaaHiiiiiiii!?”

She could hear the sound of footsteps crunching upon the dried leaves. The voice called again. This time, the girl recognized the sound.

“SoYa!?” she began to hop up and down, calling back across the glade. “SoYa! I’m over here!”

A flicker of white caught the corner of her eye. AsaHi froze, only her head swiveling around to stare up at the source of the motion. There was nothing… Nothing except for a pale white shimmer winging away in the sky.

Could it be..?

The White Dragon.

Zemi’s other form. The one that she had only seen once, back in the Host. Back when she couldn’t bring herself to believe that such a thing could exist.

“AsaHi!”

“Finally! There you are!”

Voices barked across the hillside, echoing back at her. The girl pulled her eyes away from the sky to peer down at the three men who were trudging up to meet her.

SoYa broke into a sprint at the sight of her. He was dressed down very plainly in a pair of slacks, his rumpled shirt hung open in a low v-shape across his chest, the throat laces untouched. As modest as he tended to be, it was not like the Apprentice to have paid so little mind to his appearance.

So…Ya..?

AsaHi found herself half-gaping. It seemed that the long days out on the road had done a lot to improve the Apprentice’s once pale and slender build.

“Are you okay?” SoYa’s voice was hoarse with emotion as he jogged the rest of the way up the hillside to meet her. The Healer’s training he received kicked in as he began to look her over for any sign of injury, both hands clasping AsaHi’s shoulders gently.

“I’m… I’m fine…” The girl attempted to reassure him. She couldn’t help but stare, bemused at the picture before her. And slightly embarrassed at her thoughts.

He nodded blankly in return. As his eyes met her, SoYa pulled up short, taking note of her strange reaction.

As if on cue, Zento appeared at his son’s side. He took one look at the odd exchange. Then, a sly, suggestive smile colored his face as he gave a quipping laugh. “You might just have a little of your father’s style in you yet, boy…”

“Let us plead with the heavens that he doesn’t,” Kudako muttered. The Dragon fell in behind the two of them, standing at a distance.

“Uuuuhnn?” SoYa blinked in surprise. Realizing that he was the object of attention, the Apprentice stared down at himself, and snapped the front of his shirt shut with one quick-closing fist. “I… I… I’m sorry!”

“Sorry?” AsaHi swallowed.

“I didn’t have time to… you know… find something more appropriate?” His face had grown just about as red as the cloth around her shoulders.

Trying to make light of the situation, AsaHi grinned wickedly, “What… you act like it’s a bad thing?”

SoYa squirmed uncomfortably, looking lost as to how to respond to the girl’s teasing words.

Zento barked a cheerful laugh. It was obvious that he was thoroughly enjoying himself.

“Faaaaather..!” SoYa’s tone pleaded. “Can we just… let it be?”

“Indeed… we have better things to do than go on about the particulars of the Earthian mating rituals,” Kudako snorted.

This time both AsaHi and SoYa looked like they were about to melt away in embarrassment.

Zento gave the Dragon a sly grin of approval. “Gooood one, Kudako.”

Kudako gave a silent smirk back.

“Okay! Okay!” SoYa waved them both away. Then he turned back to AsaHi. “What happened!? Where did you go? You had us all worried witless about you!”

“Speak for yourself,” Kudako grumbled.

“Come on, ‘Dako… you were running around like a Dragon with its head cut off,” Zento nudged the warrior.

“Only because if we lost Morh-AsaHi I would be reduced to having no head. Lord Zemi would see to it personally.”

AsaHi frowned. “I was fine.”

“Why did you wander off like that?” SoYa’s face was lined in concern.

The girl sucked softly on her bottom lip. Her mind darted back over all the information that Zemi had shared with her that previous night. Something inside didn’t think it was a good idea to reveal such things to the rest of them. After all, if the Dreigiau had wanted them all to know, he would have called everyone out for a talk.

“I… just needed to take a walk…” she lowered her eyes to the ground hoping that no one would catch the hint of dishonesty in her tone. “Then I got lost…”

“Lost, eh?” Zento’s eyes flickered sharply to the red cloak that hung around AsaHi’s shoulders with a knowing look.

“I… well…” the girl held her breath, body stiffening.

Busted?

“Let’s try not to let it happen again, okay?” Zento nodded slowly, dropping the topic much to her surprise.

“Okay?” AsaHi agreed, expression growing grateful.

“Indeed. We need to stick together. We’re coming close to the Passage,” Kudako added gruffly.

“The Passage? What’s that?” she blinked up.

“Hard to explain. You’ll have to see it for itself,” the Dragon replied.

“Is it dangerous?”

“To the wrong kinds of people, yes. That’s why we need to stay close. Understand?”

AsaHi nodded, biting down on her lip.

If only they knew…

Her mind shifted back to the flight of the White Dragon. The broken tone in Zemi’s voice. The Dreigiau’s haunted, despairing eyes.

“Hey… we’ve got breakfast on the fire?” SoYa’s voice interrupted her thoughts, words soft and soothing. He had always been very good at sensing her concern.

Then again, he would be. He’s a Mind Mage…

The girl peered up into the Apprentice’s face. It was genuinely anxious. AsaHi suddenly felt rather guilty.

Here I’ve probably worried poor SoYa to death… and all I can do is think about Zemi. What’s wrong with me? Zemi can take care of himself… I’m pretty sure of it.

SoYa reached a hand out. It was a half-hearted, shy motion. His face reflected with a boyish look that reminded her instantly of how things used to be… back before her encounter at the Host Gate. Back when things had been normal and the two of them had been happy with each other.

“Let’s go back?” AsaHi reached out and folded SoYa’s hand in her own, her words echoing the passing of thoughts.

A soft light shifted in the green depths of the Apprentice’s eyes. His expression was a mix between surprise and comfort. She felt a small tremor rush over SoYa’s body as he shook himself out to finally relax.

AsaHi gave him a hopeful smile.

“Yeah… let’s go back…” SoYa shyly smiled down at her in return.

The two of them walked hand in hand towards the camp.

A terrible, forlorn howl shattered the calm of the shadowed-shrouded hills.

AsaHi startled out of her half-asleep state. Frightened, her green eyes darted across the fire towards where the others were sitting.

Kudako’s ears were flattened back against his skull. A rather frightening scowl twisted his normally quiet face. Zento must have taken notice of the Dragon’s reaction as well for he was the first to break the stillness.

“Unusual.”

SoYa was staring out into the darkness, eyes deeply disturbed. “Could it be one of the Marked?”

“It was much bigger than that,” Kudako replied.

AsaHi swallowed. “What… sort of things… are out here?”

“Who knows…” the warrior answered. His face was still troubled as he began to prod the fire with a stick.

“Sheesh, Kudako. Why don’t you just make everyone feel really secure here?” Zento grated.

“Okay, fine,” the Dragon retorted. He waved his hand to dismiss the shadows. “There is absolutely nothing out there. That huge, nasty howl you just heard was a figment of your imagination.”

“You know what I mean…”

“What do you want me to do? Sugarcoat it?”

“Listen… you don’t go around scaring the begeebies out of the poor kids…” Zento pointed across the fire.

“I can handle it?” SoYa offered.

It was obvious that neither of the two warriors was paying the Apprentice any attention.

AsaHi sighed, huddling deeper under her blanket. Zento and Kudako were at it again.

The way those two argue could scare away the monsters in itself.

She had always been under the impression that older adults had some sort of sense of maturity. But at any given chance, the two of warriors simply squabbled like little children. In fact, the more time AsaHi spent with them, the harder it was to believe that they were who they said they were.

ZenToYa… once the great leader and founder of the School at Nefol. High Myfyriwr to Zemi Dreigiau. And KudakoRe… a Dragon Servant who was once a feared Annihilator. How’d they end up acting no better than the punk-nosed little boys I used to baby-sit for down the street back home?

The girl began to tune the newest argument out, eyes gazing into the blurry light of the fire. There wasn’t much she could complain about. After all… even though Zento and Kudako tended to have more than their fair share of conflicts, AsaHi had to admit that she felt very safe with the two warriors being there. Even if there was something big and nasty out in the Cleft, she was sure that it was nothing that they couldn’t handle.

Besides… there are always the Dragons.

She paused, uncertain why she had suddenly thought about them again.

The Dragons. They had frightened her the first time she had encountered them out on the Cleft. But it was simply because she hadn’t known they who they really were. Zento had explained it to her later that night. The  Dragons in the Inner Realm were creatures made by Zemi Dreigiau. They were Dragon Servants. Like Kudako. And chances were, the Dragons were under command to make sure that their group remained safe through the journey.

Which was a nice, drowsy thought.

The murmuring of voices over the rippling firelight was enough to ease the girl into a comfortable, hazy sleep. Her lids gave way to the heaviness within her mind as the warmth of the blanket settled upon her in a secure embrace.

-Aaasssaaahhhhiiii…-

The girl’s eyes snapped open as the voice echoed through her mind.

What? What… was… that?

Her breath came in a huge, frighten gulp as AsaHi peered across the fire to see if her companions had also heard the sound. She could tell by the way all three of them were engrossed in their conversation that they had not.

-Assssaaa…hiiiii…-

Fear pounded within her ears. She clutched the blanket closer to her chest, eyes staring into the distant shadows. AsaHi couldn’t make anything out in the darkness. There was no sound except for the echo of Kudako’s stern voice as he continued to chide Zento.

Who are you?

She didn’t know why she responded in thought. After all, she wasn’t an Athrylith like SoYa or Zento. She couldn’t speak with thoughts alone. But something within her was repulsed by the thought of answering aloud. Or even alerting the others to the existence of the voice that knew her name.

-AsaHi… please…-

A quick breath rushed through her, fear half scattering away as concern rose to take its place. The voice in her mind… it was in so much pain. AsaHi wasn’t sure how she knew, but it sounded as if something was calling to her for help.

Where are you?

The girl stood up, letting the blanket fall from around her shoulders. It was strange how no one else seemed to notice as she walked towards the camp’s edge. Trained warriors as they were — one even being a Dragon — they should have sensed her sounds or motions. But they did not.

AsaHi stepped beyond the firelight into the shadow. It took a moment before her vision cleared, adjusting to the darkness. One step. Then another… then another… then…

A strange shifting sensation rushed over her, turning her stomach inside out. The girl stumbled, barely catching her balance before she fell.

When she looked back towards camp, the fire was nowhere to be seen. The trees around her looked nothing like they had been just before. A small rocky hill rose up ahead of her in the moonlight.

What?!

Fear jolted through her. She ran her tongue over her lips.

I… I didn’t walk that far! I just took a few steps away from…

Just as she opened her mouth to call back to her companions, she felt the tickle in the back of her mind return. All sound that might have come from her throat died instantly as her name resounded through her thoughts.

-AsaHi…-

It seemed closer now. Stronger.

The sound of the plea was suddenly unbearable. It wrenched at her heart, tightened her chest and left her throat choked. Her hands began to shake as her feet started to move of their own accord. The shadows of overhanging leaves dotted her face through streams of moonlight. Her footsteps were very quiet in the damp night air. Only a few dark clouds drifted over the sky, leaving dark patches between the quilted starlight.

It might have been chilly outside. But AsaHi could not feel it.

There was only one thing that registered in her mind. The call.

Finally, her feet stopped moving. She didn’t know how long she had been walking. She didn’t know the direction that she had moved in. There was no way for her to figure out where the camp was from this point.

But for some odd reason, she felt very calm.

“Asa…Hi…?”

The voice was strangled, choked in sorrow. And it was vocal, now. No longer in her mind.

“Where are you?” the girl turned around in a circle, squinting through the darkness.

Something moved within the shadows of the bushes. Something large… with a presence that was simply too overpowering to break away from. A tall, wild silhouette separated from the line of trees, moving towards her in a long, heavy gait.

AsaHi’s eyes widened as the features grew visible in the moonlight.

“Kaze!” the girl choked. Then she caught herself in correction. “I… I… mean… Zemi?”

He looked horrible — his hair was a wild mess, the fanged face twisted and animalistic. The way he carried himself was like a great wounded beast struggling against devastating pain. It instantly reminded her of the first time she had met him. His eyes. His eyes were the most haunting… most terrifying. The two green slits fearsomely reflected the ghostly moonlight. It seemed as if at any moment he might completely lose all sense of rational identity.

“Zemi..?” she heard herself whisper his name, if only to remind him of whom he was.

An eerie sound hissed from between his lips as if he was attempting to make words from within an animal mind. An immense shadow fell across her as the Arweinydd reached forward, his fingers splayed wide. It looked more like a claw than a hand.

AsaHi jerked away with a shocked gasp, stumbling back against the trunk of a scraggly tree.

“AsaHi… please… don’t…” the choked sounds finally met with coherence. His voice sounded so ethereal that it only caused her to shrink back all the more. The slits of pale green fire rose above her as his wild form blotted out the pale face of the moon.

Instantly she could sense that this was nothing like the Zemi that she knew. Nothing like the cheerful, romping Kaze that had accompanied her through the forest trails. Nothing like the grand Dreigiau upon his throne in the gardens of the floating city.

This was something deeper. More fearsome. More genuine.

The earth reeled at each approaching footfall, as if writhing in agony from the Arweinydd’s touch. The night had fallen deadly still; the only sounds present were the frantic drumming of the girl’s heart and the gasping of her panicked breath. Upon recognizing the scent of her fear, the Dreigiau’s shadow froze. A forlorn sound rose plaintively from his throat, like the death-knell of a soul shattering across the moment.

The sound rippled through the darkness, washing over AsaHi with absolute, unearthly grief. She felt her heart shudder, teetering upon the brink of terrible fear and sudden sympathy.

His pain. It cried out to her, overwhelming. She could feel it gripping the very essence of her being in a way that someone else’s sorrow had never done before.

With knowledge beyond her own senses, AsaHi gathered all of her courage and reached out to him.

It wasn’t until their fingers met, that she realized he had still been reaching for her. As their palms pressed together, a tremendous wave of energy shot through AsaHi’s body. For a split second everything froze — heartbeat… thought… breath.

A vast release burst through the air, a sudden radius of astral wind shredding the stillness of the night forest. With terrible awe, the girl found her grip tightening on Arweinydd’s large hands, despite the fact the momentary maelstrom did not so much as stir a fold of her tunic.

Within the breath’s moment, it was gone. And AsaHi found herself staring up into the familiar features of Zemi’s face.

When she finally found her voice, she could only speak his name. “Ze…mi…?”

The Arweinydd’s eyes were still bright. But they had lost the wild fierceness that had blazed so terribly only moments before. His gaze was now calm and somberly burdened. It fixed first upon their interlocked fingers… then traced up to the stricken girl’s face.

“Z… Zemi? Are you okay?” her voice was small to her ears. Small under the speckled sky… and tiny under the gaze of the immense Dreigiau.

“I… I will be fine…” Zemi’s voice was husky and full of broken emotion. She knew instantly that he would not.

“What happened?” she attempted another approach, something to focus away from his feelings.

“I slipped up…” he finally admitted.

“Slipped up? What do you mean?”

“I did what you suggested for me to do…” his voice choked.

“What do you mean?”

“I confronted Zerom.”

“Was there a fight? Did he hurt you?” A chill of concern ran over her body.

“No… nothing like that…” the words broke off.

AsaHi fell silent, staring at their hands, still pressed together. The pleasant scent rose to her senses as it always did when she was close to him —  a sign that whatever had stricken Zemi so wild had certainly passed.

Curiosity burned within her mind.

“You were the one that called me here.” It was a statement more than a question.

“Yes.”

“Why? I can’t do much to help you against Zerom.”

“No, it’s not that. I called you here… because I knew you wouldn’t… turn me away.”

A flush rose through her cheeks as she remembered her initial panic. How she had almost ran in fear from him… how she had almost turned him away. Why Zemi had so much confidence in her, AsaHi didn’t know. “I don’t understand?”

“I know you don’t.” The moonlight now reflected from his eyes in a gentle manner. His voice had grown smooth and soothing, like mountain water.

Underlying it all, there was the feeling of unspoken words in the air. She waited in the pressing silence.

“I am Rhoi’r,” Zemi finally admitted into the stillness of the night. It was a blurt, like someone attempting to say everything in three simple words, hoping it would be the explanation to all.

AsaHi frowned slowly. Part of her was gladdened that he would speak so openly. Part of her was frustrated at herself for not comprehending something that was obviously so important to him. “I’m sorry. I… don’t know what that is.”

She could feel his fingers quivering slightly between hers. He was fighting to keep his composure. “It means… my people have banished me.”

Her mouth fell open. Shame marked her face as she realized a moment too late that this wasn’t exactly the most reassuring reaction to Zemi’s situation. But it was an honest reaction, none-the-less.

“Banished… you? What do you mean they banished you? How? Why?” her brows drew down sharply.

“Because… even in the realms that I come from, there are rules. I have broken them.”

“By doing what?” AsaHi protested.

“Being here.”

Something within her heart sank at these two simple words.

Zemi… is banished from his home because…  of us?

“Is it… our fault?”

“No… No it’s not!” he spluttered quickly. “I want to be here. I like it here much more… than I liked it there.”

“But Zemi… we’re nothing like… the Arweinydd?”

“Exactly,” his gaze gently locked with hers.

AsaHi was suddenly at a loss for what to say. It was the last thing she would have expected to come from Zemi Dreigiau. She found herself perplexed at the fact that she really didn’t have much to offer in the way of comforting answers.

“I’m… sorry…” she lowered her head, finding nothing but the well-worn words to express her feelings.

“It’s okay… not like I wanted to go back to that dulls-ville Wayfringe anyhow,” he quipped, trying his best to shed a bit of humor on the situation. It didn’t seem to work very well — the laughter did not touch his eyes.

“Yeah, well…” AsaHi stuck her chin up, following his lead. “It’s just their loss anyhow.”

“Hrm?”

“Even if they can’t see how great a person you are… we can! We want you here with us, Zemi.”

His eyebrows arched up in surprise and his face slowly lit with the fringe of wonder. “Are you sure about that?”

Such a powerful reaction was not what AsaHi had not expected from so small a statement. She followed it up with determination. “Are you going to make me repeat myself?”

“No…” the Dreigiau gave her a mildly amused look. “I guess that’s all… I really needed to hear from someone.”

The girl congratulated herself silently for finding the right thing to say… for once. Then she gave him a little, hopeful smile, swinging their hands between them in a playful manner. “I’m glad.”

It was as if at that moment that Zemi realized their fingers were still woven together. A strange, whimsical expression flickered over his features as he glanced down at AsaHi. The closest thing to embarrassment the Dreigiau might have come to.

AsaHi arched an eyebrow as they pulled their hands apart. She watched him closely for a moment, almost afraid that the sudden wildness might return. Then she chided herself for imagining that she might have had such importance… that she might have played any part in Zemi’s return to his senses.

“It’s late,” Zemi’s voice interrupted her train of thought. “You look tired. Why don’t you come rest beside my fire?”

The girl turned to object at the fact that there had been no place to rest that she had seen, only to follow the wave of Zemi’s hand. There upon a clearing in the rocks sat an inviting looking fire, cheerfully blazing against the depths of night.

“What about the others?” AsaHi asked.

“They’re fine. Don’t worry,” he reassured her.

AsaHi peered at the camp’s fire thoughtfully.

“It’ll be just like old times?” Zemi prompted with encouragement. “Like we used to do…”

“Like we used to do…” she found herself repeating.

Before there was Zemi Dreigiau… the floating city… the Marked creatures or the Dragons.

When AsaHi turned back to him, she saw the reflected face of Kaze - warm, cheerful and friendly. She found herself smiling, caught in a moment of the familiar.

She gave the Dreigiau a nod and made her way towards the warming light.

“ZZZZZZZERRRRROOOOOOOOM!”

The roar thundered through the foundations of the Wayfringe. Lucid essence folded in upon itself as the luminous cloud of white energy churned violently into existence. As if the force was too massive to contain, the dimensional threads shuddered, weakening and threatening to come undone.

Calmness came in response.

A cold blue light appeared. Though it was much smaller than the first, it did not flinch at the emanation of pure rage.

“You’ve finally come, Zemi. I was wondering how long you would keep me waiting.”

Zerom’s voice was wispy. Distant. A strong sign that he had placed himself behind a dimensional shielding. Despite the seemingly innate composure that blanketed his essence, it was obvious that he was being careful.

Very, very careful.

After all, no one — not even the other Arweinydd — knew the full stretch of Zemi’s capabilities. He was by far the oldest and strongest of their kind. And upon Making a physical form for himself among the Earthians, his supremacy had begun to increase with dreadful viciousness. To the Others, Zemi had grown from being merely powerful to enormously dangerous. Within the Wayfringe, the Dreigiau would not be subjected to the restrictions that he dealt with while he remained upon the Earthian world. Here, literally anything could be possible — as long as one had the power to do it.

And there was little doubt that Zemi Dreigiau held such means to do whatever he pleased. That was why the Others were growing restless.

And now the Dreigiau was obviously extremely angry with him. Zerom knew his brother had a way of growing dangerously feral when he was aggravated. Rage was something that also shortened his foresight and left him flustered, snappy and short-fused.

And when Zemi got short-fused, lots of people got hurt.

It was exactly the type of attitude that Zerom wanted the Dreigiau take back with him to the Earthian realms. Perhaps then, Zemi would show the people there what he was really like. So far, they had only seen the Dreigiau the way he had wanted — cheerful, benevolent, good natured, and concerned for their well-being — which was far, far from the terrible truth.

The churning white light seemed to be collecting itself. When Zemi’s voice next came, it was schooled and constrained. “Why don’t you come out from your little dimensional pocket, Brother?”

Zerom gave a cold laugh, “I can hear you just fine from right here.”

“I thought as much. You call me here… yet you do not face me.”

“Face you? Now, then, Zemi… it sounds like you want to fight?” his voice was sweet with forced concern. “What in the name of the Light has gotten you so worked up?”

“You know very well!” a low, draconic growl shook the seams of the void.

Control was shifting. The light began to grow static, more wild around the edges. It blurred away from the center of the vortex, fighting against contained rage.

Zemi Dreigiau was fighting very hard to resist the Chaotic sway. But it sought his soul. Just as it sought out any creature who grew powerful enough to command the forces of creation and destruction.

Chaos wanted the Dreigiau. It wanted him badly. And unless there was some miracle… some fickle twist of providence, Zemi would eventually be drawn toward his own annihilation. It was the fate of all who commanded the power of ‘Esgor-ar.

The Others knew it. It was obvious that Zemi had already begun to change.

He was hazardous. To himself. To the Others. And least of all, to the Earthian people he so strongly championed. They would be the hinge of his undoing. And there was nothing that Zerom nor the Others could say to reason with Zemi. To persuade him against his actions.

The Dreigiau was far too drunk on his own power.

“I know what very well, Brother?” Zerom answered quietly.

“What you have done…”

“Enlighten me.”

The energy shifted again, growing more furious. The voice was low and distorted as if spoken through clenched teeth, “I’ll show you enlightenment…”

“Dear, Zemi… you are growing far too serious in your old age.”

“Stop playing games with me before I decide to rip you out of your little dimensional pocket and shred your essence a thousand ways from yesterday.”

Zerom fell silent. He knew his brother never made idle threats. Zemi was a creature of instant action… no matter how violent the action might be.

“Now…” the Dreigiau’s voice took command. “What the hell do you think you’re doing in Nefol?”

“Visiting.”

“You are to remove yourself instantly. They don’t want you there.”

“How do you know? Have you asked them?”

“They are my people.”

“Is that so?” Zerom laughed lightly. “If I’m not mistaken… they want you there even less than they want me.”

“That is because you have made them believe things about me that are not true,” Zemi growled.

“Well then…” Zerom’s voice deepened. “They know a bit more about your true nature than your pampered little pawns in the floating city… now don’t they?”

“WHAAAAAT?” Zemi’s voice rose in a terrible roar.

“There you go.” Zerom only laughed, “Exactly the nature I’m talking about.”

“How dare you come to my city and start altering the Earthian forms!”

“As if… you have a right to talk? It is no worse than what you have done to ‘your people’. Except you give them wings.”

“No… it IS different. I know the potential nature of these people. You don’t… and the quality of your creations demonstrate this.”

“What do you mean?” there was a slight edge to Zerom’s voice.

“They’re practically nothing more than walking, rot-infested slime when you get done with them! If you try to force them to be something they were never meant to be, the Earthians will simply fall apart and decay away.”

“That’s exactly how I want them,” Zerom sneered, covering the blow to his pride.

It was true… after all his attempts to empower the Earthians that were under his control, they ended up doing nothing more than rapidly decomposing. Zerom had spent quite a while seeking after alternate means of embedding his power into the people… but their flesh was simply too weak to contain Arweinydd energy for any extended amount of time.

“I’m sure…” Zemi growled. “All offensive and nauseating… just like you.”

“Now, Brother… such cold words…”

“Shut up, Zerom!” The Dreigiau snapped sharply, “The way you’ve been acting… you are no longer a brother to me!”

There was a long moment of silence. Zerom attempted to hide his pained scorn when he next spoke. “Very well… then I will not tell you of the danger that you are in.”

Silence came again.

Finally, Zemi muttered, “There is very little that I cannot handle.”

“I am sure. But are your precious winged people as resilient as you?” Zerom pointed out slyly.

A low growl rippled through the void, “You will leave them alone!”

“It is your fault for pulling them into this in the first place! Do you not understand what you have done, Zemi? Do you not see anything wrong with your actions? At all?”

“Wrong? MY ACTIONS? What have I possibly done that gives you the right to do what you have been doing?”

“You’ve taken on a fully-functional physical Earthian form, Zemi!”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“EVERYTHING!” Zerom felt his voice lift in protest.

One last time. One last time he’d try to reach him… despite the fact that Zemi had already disowned him.

“I WILL DO AS I SO PLEASE!” Zemi thundered in response.

Even within the shelter of the dimensional shield, Zerom was shaken by the jolt of Zemi’s rage. It felt as if the Dreigiau was trying to force his way into the pocket to pull him out of the protection… just as he had threatened to do earlier.

“I’m not telling you what to do!” Zerom reasoned, a trickle of fear breaking through his calm exterior. Arweinydd were not supposed to have the power to slay other Arweinydd. But with Zemi, one could never tell. “I’m trying to warn you, Brother! You have to believe me!”

Everything fell still.

Zemi’s voice was low and deadly, “Then warn me.”

“The Others…”

“What of them.”

“This is their will.”

“What are you saying?”

“They have deemed you Rhoi’r!” Zerom’s voice leaked what sounded like genuine concern.

Zemi fell silent.

Rhoi’r.

It meant a “Banished One”. It was the worst fate imaginable by those of their people… for to be banished was to be hunted. And to be hunted and found was to be… Remade.

Remaking was not something that had ever been done in Zerom’s memory. He wasn’t even sure of the details of such a process. But he did know that its purpose was to take those who might stray from the norm and change them into what the Arweinydd deemed to be acceptable for their kind. For the Mistake that had happened so long ago must never be allowed to come to pass again. And those, like Zemi, who sway to the call of Chaos and Creation also touch upon the powers that had nearly caused the death of everything.

“So you see?” Zerom’s words came slowly.

“Rhoi’r?”

“Yes.”

“For what? Simply because I chose to see what life was like in Earthian form?”

“You’re just too close to them, Zemi… it’s too dangerous to Make yourself. You know that.”

“I wasn’t Making myself!” he protested.

“Then what do you call it?”

“Well… I’d call it…” the Dreigiau paused.

When he didn’t answer, Zerom finished the statement for him, “Making yourself.”

Zemi fell into a fuming silence.

“Brother… this is serious,” Zerom intoned. “Maybe… just maybe if you come away from that world… away from those insignificant little creatures… come back to the Wayfringe with us… and swear never to return to the Earthian world again… Maybe they’ll take you back? It might not be too late.”

Zemi fell silent once again. For a very long time.

“Brother…”

Something about the silence was extremely uncomfortable.

“Come back with me, Brother…”

When Zemi finally answered, his voice was stern. “No.”

Zerom couldn’t contain his shock, “No? What do you mean, no?”

“It is what I said, is it not?”

“Zemi… you can’t mean that!”

“I do.”

“But they’re… they’re little nothings! Why would you choose nothings over us! We’re–”

“Planning to confine me. And then Remake me?” Zemi interrupted.

“What!?”

“Do you think I am stupid?”

“That’s not true, Zemi! It’s–”

“Whether it is true or not… I’d still never leave the Earthians. You know that, Zerom. These people mean too much to me.”

Zerom’s voice lowered, tone growing dark. “You will kill them all, Zemi… you know what your power holds for them. You know it’s not meant to be like this.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

“And what of the Chaos?”

Zemi almost choked. “I… I am fine.”

“Fine? You call this erratic behavior fine?”

“I will not fall to the Chaos, Zerom.” The words were spoken with finality.

“You… will not have a choice, Brother… If you remain there, it is your promised fate.”

“So… it is Chaos on one hand… Remaking on the other?” Zemi stated quietly.

“Maybe so?”

The white cloud of energy was moving in a slow, rather reluctant manner now. “What are you going to do about it, Zerom?”

“I will… do what I must.”

“I knew you’d say so,” Zemi’s tone was somewhat sad. “Just… be careful.”

“Be careful? Why… what are you planning to–”

“Not of me.”

“Then… of what?” Zerom retorted.

“You, too, are dabbling in ‘Esgor-ar.”

The way the words were spoken sent a chill over Zerom’s form.

Zemi continued, “Be careful that you always know where you stand. Or you may find the Chaos upon you… instead of me.”

Zerom’s retort was hot in the air. But just as the words came, they fell away. For the white light that had been Zemi was nowhere to be seen.

The sunshine was perfect.

The twittering birds were perfect.

The way the grass played in the wind was perfect.

The sparkling blue spray of water streaming down into the pond was perfect.

The sound of the leaves sighing in harmony was…

You guessed it. Perfect.

And TsuYa couldn’t stand it.

Give me something — anything — that is just remotely flawed! If I have to see one more perfect, happy smiling face, I think I’m going to go crazy!

Happiness was all good and well. But there was such a thing as being too cheerful. Too nice. Too pleasant.

And about as dead-boring as the end of time.

Or maybe… it was just that TsuYa was too sour. People often accused him of being cold. And though he tried not to seem that stand-offish from others — mostly for SoYa’s sake — he had found over time that it was just the easiest way for him to deal with others.

Even the winged people were hard for him to stomach.

…they just weird me out…

Though they did try hard to make him feel comfortable.

…they try a little too hard…

And the bottom line was a single, reverberating fact in his mind.

…I’m stuck here…

He couldn’t leave the floating city without Lord Zemi’s permission.

…Father and SoYa are off somewhere probably having the time of their life…

Though he should probably be grateful to simply be alive. Everyone said he had come so close.

…and I’m left here with absolutely nothing to do in the middle of all this mess!

TsuYa puckered his lips in disdain, rubbing the polishing stone carefully along the edge of DuLlafn. His hands gently clutched the long black haft, weighing the feel of the weapon between them. As much as it left the people of the city uncomfortable to see the wicked scythe slanted across his knees, the last thing the Apprentice could stand was for the blade to go dull due to lack of care.

The black-haired girl peered up at him from behind the folds of the white cloth. She imitated his prune-faced expression.

Suzume.

That was her name. TsuYa had discovered this fact while talking about her to Aunt SaRa. Nothing else was known about the girl’s origins or family. And though he was quite certain the winged girl could probably talk, she still had yet to make the effort.

He didn’t know why the girl chose to stay near him. But she rarely left him alone. Half of the time she seemed to be extremely shy, almost afraid of him. The rest of the time, not even Aunt SaRa could pry her away from the Apprentice’s side.

If this crazy city isn’t bad enough… I get stuck with the creepy little girl from the black void.

Despite being a bit eerie, Suzume was quiet. TsuYa liked quite. Quiet was good. However, he liked being left alone just as much as silence. If not more.

I wonder what she’s thinking about all the time? It’s the quiet ones you have to watch out for. Like SoYa.  I bet she’s figuring up all sorts of nasty things to do to me when I fall asleep… or something.

“I was never so badly behaved when I was a kid.” TsuYa gave a grunt, muttering his thoughts out loud, “I couldn’t have been.”

Suzume imitated him with a little mock grunt.

The Apprentice peered over at her, “Right?”

She grunted again in reply, obviously finding great interest in the sound.

He returned his attention to the blade in his hands. Carefully, TsuYa flipped it over, observing the way the light reflected off the smooth surface.

The girl had fallen silent again. Even though he couldn’t see her eyes, he could feel her watching him intently.

Maybe I can have a little fun… break this boredom…. and get her out of my hair all at the same time. Just a little scare… that’s all.

“You know what this is for?” TsuYa chided her softly.

Suzume shook her head.

“Looks pretty dangerous, doesn’t it?”

She nodded.

“It once belonged to my father,” he informed the girl with a sly smirk. A hint of dark humor colored his voice. “He used to use it to cut people up. Especially annoying little kids.”

The girl stiffened.

“See this?” TsuYa indicated the jagged point on the blade by bringing it close to Suzume’s chest. “If you stick it in like this… and pull it out real fast…. it yanks the heart riiiiight out!”

She squeaked, jerking away from him.

A wicked grin twisted the Apprentice’s face at her reaction. So far nothing that he had done was enough to make her go away. Day after day she sat there watching — just watching him. Though she never did anything to bother him, it was just the fact that she would never let him be alone.

And alone was something that he loved to be.

So… how come I feel so rotten about doing this to her?

Suzume sat absolutely frozen. Except for her hands. They were shaking.

TsuYa’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, “Hey…”

The girl did not move.

“Hey, Suzume?” The Apprentice sat DuLlafn to one side. A guilty expression fell over his face. “I was just joking?”

The girl still did not move.

“Suzume? It wasn’t for real. My father never sliced up kids… not even annoying ones? You believe me, right?”

She let out a frightened little breath.

“Listen, I’m sorry already,” TsuYa huffed. “Just stop looking at me like that, okay?”

Suzume remained staring at him.

“Hey… stoppit,” he pleaded softly. “I just said I didn’t mean to scare you!”

Her lower lip curled.

“Aww… man… nooo! Don’t start with that!”

She whimpered.

“Don’t cry!”

At the sternness of his protest, the girl burst straight into tears. Even her wails were very quiet. But they were little-girl-wails none-the-less.

“Shhhhhhhhh! Shhhhhhhhh! Suzume!” he hissed, flailing his hands around in absolute horror.

She cried all the more.

Great…. now what!? Aunt SaRa’s going to have my head for this!

Then he remembered.

The waifs! I have a few that I brought along from this morning. Those things usually shut her up…

“Here… Suzume…” TsuYa crooned softly, pulling out the package of cookies. He waved one in front of her face.

The girl fell silent, watching.

“That’s right,” he coaxed softly. “If you stop crying, I’ll give you a cooki–”

Suzume slapped the waif out of his hand. Her voice rang in his ears, low and chilling.

“Llofruddiaeth…”

As the crumbs of the waif scattered across the ground, the black-haired girl spun on her heel and ran away. A cold, heavy weight sunk within the pit of TsuYa’s stomach as he watched her disappear into the line of trees.

He couldn’t tell if it was the tone of her voice. Or if it was simply the fact that she had spoken to him for the first time. Maybe it was because she was obviously very upset with him… and guilt was chewing him inside out for it. No matter what the reason might have been… TsuYa found that being alone was far less appealing than he thought it would be.

SoYa hissed as a sharp, stinging pain sliced through his upper arm.

His defenses fell as the last of his concentration shattered away. The pain leapt on him from every direction. Long, thin slits of agony ripped across his body. If the weapon had been a blade, the Apprentice he would have been slashed into a million pieces. But no sword was in use.

It was only the power of mind.

“Father!” he choked, reaching one hand toward the blurring figure of the winged man. “Father, stop!”

-Mindspeak, boy!-

“I… I…”

-Mindspeak!-

The command pounded through his brain, shaking his entire body with the force.

During training, his father didn’t allow verbal communication. Only mindspeak. SoYa flailed out weakly, a desperate plea ringing through his thoughts.

Please! S…stop…

The pain did not stop. It only intensified.

-Put your shields up.-

I… ca…n’t… Father… please…

-Put your shields up!-

A broken cry escaped the Apprentice’s lips as his knees threatened to buckle. The pain was too much to endure.

-Defend yourself, SoYa!-

The Apprentice’s mind had gone too numb for the words to register. His pleads had fallen upon deaf ears. His face was streaked with sweat and heated tears.

I… can’t…

ZenToYa didn’t move a muscle. His eyes simply narrowed.

-If you cannot defend yourself, you will die!-

Finally released, SoYa could hardly feel the physical pain as he slumped in the grass. It hurt nowhere near as bad as his mind did. The Apprentice remained laying face down in the grass as he attempted to gather his wits about him. He choked and gasped as the taste of dirt and sweat filled his mouth. A cooling breeze swept over him, tousling through the top of his matted hair.

SoYa had expected training to be easy. He had even looked forward to the first lesson with pride. He thought that he’d finally get the chance to show his father exactly what he could do.

Only, things didn’t work out exactly as he had thought they would.

For all the time that SoYa had believed himself to be strong in the area of mind magic, his own strength paled next to the power of ZenToYa. He did not know his father had dabbled in the mind sphere of magic. So it came as a shock when their minds first met… and SoYa had crumpled pitifully under the weight of superiority.

And so it went. Day after day.

Father would demand a training session. SoYa would return later that night, mind exhausted and confidence dwindling.

He could faintly hear the sounds of measured footsteps approaching him. A voice sounded next to his ear. He was thankful that it was not mindspeak.

“Others will not be merciful, SoYa,” Father’s voice was sorrowful yet stern. “That is the law of the Athrylith.”

SoYa bit back his words. His throat was too dry with grit to speak. His courage was too worn down to argue.

He wanted to tell his father that he never wanted to be Athrylith to begin with. That he didn’t want to live by such vicious laws. That he never wanted to learn how to use this dreadful power. That he was happier simply being plain old SoYa…

But Father would not listen.

And the Apprentice didn’t have a choice in the matter.

“Zento,” Kudako’s voice was gruff.

SoYa raised his head weakly. The Dragon was perched silently upon a tree stump. His golden eyes were watching the two of them intently.

Father did not turn to acknowledge him.

“You do not build someone up by tearing their self-confidence down,” Kudako murmured. His fingers were busy knotting some of the slender ropes used as parts of their animal traps.

Somehow, the fact that the elusive warrior would speak up on his behalf left SoYa stunned. The Apprentice never knew the Dragon to show much affection for himself nor his brother.

“You never held your hand in training me,” Father stated firmly, planting a hand on his hip. “I turned out fine.”

“I knew your limits, Zento. This boy is not you.”

SoYa squinted at the Dragon in curiosity.

“He must grow or die,” Father’s voice lifted as the scowl widened on his face. “He doesn’t have a choice now.”

“People grow in different ways,” Kudako crossed his arms.

“The enemy is upon us… and this last display of power might have left them mind-wiped if we hadn’t found them soon enough.”

SoYa choked. “M…mind…wiped?”

Both of them turned to peer down at the Apprentice.

“Yes,” his father answered carefully. “During the ambush, you lashed out at the Marked. And you successfully took them down. However, you also nearly took out AsaHi’s senses… as well as your own.”

“I… I… didn’t know…”

“Do you think we’re doing this for nothing, SoYa?” He spread his wings before folding them again with a sigh. “I know you don’t understand… but I’m pushing hard you because it’s important. There’s danger all around us. And you have to be focused enough to strike the right target next time. Because there will be a next time sooner than you think.”

SoYa pushed himself up on his palms shakily. Silence rolled through his mind. It felt good.

“Do you understand what I’m trying to say?” Father pressed. His voice was somewhat more gentle. His face was lined deep with concern.

“I… think so.” The Apprentice felt some of his anger washing away as his mind came to grips with his father’s explanation.

The words sounded so apologetic… so deeply worried. The light in the winged man’s eyes shown in sincere pain as he gazed down upon his son. “You can’t protect AsaHi if you end up hurting her every time you strike at the enemy.”

Something about that statement chilled SoYa to the core.

Am I really that dangerous?

“That is why it is important that you get back up… and fight,” Father placed a hand gently on SoYa’s shoulder. “No matter how hard it is. You cannot allow yourself to run away from the truth anymore.”

The Apprentice’s eyes flickered up. Somehow, the mere touch of his father’s hand seemed to ease his pain and exhaustion.

“Maybe so, Zento,” Kudako frowned. The sound of his footsteps was heavy as he strode towards the fire pit. “Still, be careful. Bitterness easy-earned… is an anger that burns with little worth.”

Father grimaced. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

The warrior opened his mouth to reply. But a frightened shout from the distance overrode anything he might have been about to say.

“MARKED!”

Kudako perked up, head swiveling instantly at the word. Father, too, had turned around. His eyes were fixed on the direction from which the cry had come.

SoYa knew the voice instantly. “AsaHi!”

Father and Kudako were already on their way. Ever fleet, the two of them dodged off through the bushes, leaving SoYa to pull himself together. The Apprentice grimaced, letting out one long breath.

It didn’t take very long before they returned. Ushered between them was AsaHi. She was shivering and very shaken.

“What… what happened?” SoYa demanded, voice cracking with worry.

Father pulled a blanket from the packs and wrapped the girl within it. He led her over to sit next to the fire.

AsaHi began to try to detail her encounter in a half-babbling, half-sobbing voice. Her hands shook violently as they gripped the blanket. Her words stumbled and trembled over one another as she fought to make sense of the story through her fear.

A lump began to form in SoYa’s throat as he came to sit at her side, face painted in stricken shock. He had never seen AsaHi so afraid before. Ever.

“That was close, Morh-AsaHi. You’d do well not to venture so far from camp in the future,” Kudako noted sternly once AsaHi had fallen silent.

“I didn’t know…” she choked softly. Her hands gripped the hem of SoYa’s robe, as if clinging for his strength. “I didn’t know the Marked were there…”

“I didn’t think those beasts would give up so easily,” Father’s tone dark.

“But… I thought we took them out at the pass?” SoYa blinked up in concern.

“Apparently not. The whole group of them must have… slipped through our defenses somehow. We’re going to have to be more careful. They’re getting tricky on us,” the winged man answered. “It was a good thing the Dragons were watching. I doubt we would have been able to come to AsaHi’s aid in time. ”

SoYa’s face fell ghostly white.

The Apprentice’s eyes flickered to the shaken form of the girl. She huddled under the blanket, eyes never leaving the light of the fire. The thought of AsaHi being attacked… and him not being able to protect her left SoYa trembling along side of her.

This is too much…

The Apprentice bared his teeth, eyebrows slanting down. A strange feeling began to spread within him. As if at the sight of AsaHi’s fear, a spark had been kindled. A spark that had never been there before.

-Too much?- Father’s mindspeak was clear and sharp. SoYa could sense that he was angry about the attack as well.

When they try to hurt AsaHi… it’s too much.

-What are you going to do about it?-

Kudako peered over at the two of them.

One of SoYa’s hands balled into a fist.

Teach me how to protect her!

Father’s eyebrows lifted.

I want to fight them!

SoYa’s gaze strengthened. When his eyes met his father’s, it seemed as if all weariness from the previous training had disappeared.

ZenToYa nodded to his son. A slow smile of approval crept across his face.

“Heellloooooo—”

-lllooo

-lloo

-lo

AsaHi grinned in delight as her voice echoed back at her from the cleft below.

It’s not such a spooky place now that I can see it in full.

In fact, Dragon’s Cleft was rather inspirational. The fissure was so wide that the other side was merely a hazy blur. The stone walls were near vertical in steepness. But the manner of plant life that had taken up residence along the edge was simply astounding.

Long, graceful vines had burst into colored bloom, draping the face of the wall in a brilliant rainbow curtain. Numerous small nests were tucked safely within the leafy bunches. The tiny bright yellow birds that populated the nests flittered, diving from one end of the crevice to the other in perfect ease. Their soaring song rang warmly through the chasm. Stocky flowering bushes sprung up along the cliffs, only skidding to a halt inches from the rocky rim. They were full of life especially attracting small swarms of luminous blue butterflies. Prism-winged maidenflies darted, skimming the top of the flowing grass and darting away from AsaHi’s shadow.

She didn’t know why she had been drawn to this place. But after watching the blotch of darkness grow on the horizon on their travels day after day, AsaHi knew that she had to investigate the place that was called Dragon’s Cleft. As soon as they had made a camp near enough, the girl had excused herself on pretense of helping to gather brush for the fire. Instantly, her explorations led her here.

Now, AsaHi found herself standing at the edge, bathed in a wondrous flow of radiant color.

I could have never imagined a place like this could exist in all the world. And to think… Zemi made this!

It nearly sent her mind reeling with the size of it all.  She could only speculate at what it must have been like — the earth shifting and splitting open at a single word from the Arweinydd.

Or maybe it only took one thought?

Her feet shifted, uncomfortable at the mental image. It was difficult for her to imagine Zemi doing something so unbelievably vast. All she could think of when she thought back to the Dreigiau was the quirky smile and quick laugh. AsaHi’s mind began to wander as the wind whistled through the chasm below.

I wonder what Zemi is doing right now? I wonder if maybe it was a mistake to have encouraged him to take responsibility for this mess. After all… it wasn’t really his fault. And now he’s going after Zerom… all because of something I said to him.

A pair of yellow birds darted above her head.

I wonder if Arweinydd can get hurt? Maybe if they’re fighting each other they can?

The girl sucked on her bottom lip slowly.

I hope he’ll be okay…

A frown drew over her face as she shook out her head.

Wait… why am I worrying about him? I mean, he IS Zemi Dreigiau. If he’s powerful enough to make something like the Dragon’s Chasm happen, then I’m sure he can handle this situation. Right?

AsaHi sighed, peering up into the spread of the sky.

What in the name of the Seven Universes have I gotten myself into?

Everything was moving so fast. There was hardly enough time for her to keep up, much less catch her breath. She had just been getting used to life up in the city of the winged people. And then all this suddenly happened — TsuYa being dreadfully ill… finding out that SoYa was a mind mage… the attack of the strange Marked creatures… the meeting KudakoRe, one of the great Annihilators of ages past.

AsaHi didn’t really know why she had demanded to come along on the journey. There was very little that she could offer in the way of help. But something about the way SoYa had been carrying himself ever since he had come to Ceiswyr… it tore at her heart. She had made it her personal mission to pull SoYa out of his slump.

Mind Mage or not… I won’t have him feeling sorry for himself!

It was hard though. Especially due to the way Zento had begun to treat SoYa. The winged man had taken it upon himself to whip his eldest son into shape through the use of something he considered mind-strengthening exercises. Days of training often left the Apprentice in a good deal of strain and mental pain. AsaHi could always see it on his face as the two of them trudged back to camp after hour-long sessions at twilight.

He’s always so tired anymore. This journey has been rough on him.

ZenToYa was sometimes just as harsh and unyielding as the stories made him out to be.

I suppose it’s for SoYa’s own good but still… why doesn’t Zento see that SoYa is not like TsuYa?

The girl let out a long, wandering sigh. It sounded loud in her ears.

That’s when AsaHi realized that the world around her had grown strangely quiet.

A prickle of unease shifted across her skin. Green eyes flickered warily. AsaHi began to back away from the chasm one slow step at a time.

The air was suddenly charged with new energy as motion broke the stillness. A sweeping wind whooshed past the girl’s face, the force of it catching her off balance. AsaHi fought to draw breath. Her steps faltered as she stumbled, barely catching herself before she fell. A huge shadow cast down upon her, blotting out the sun. Her eyes lifted skyward as a hissing gasp ripped from between her lips.

“Hedd-ynad!”

A Dragon had come from within the chasm.

Two huge wings beat the air, spreading so wide over her head that she could hardly see the sky. The body was long and sleek, built for motion. The soft hide shown like burnished bronze, shifting to deep sable at the tip of its muzzle and each clawed limb. The slender head was crowned with an array of small horns and fins. A streaming black mane rand from the top of its head, spreading out around its shoulders, and continuing all the way down its back to the tail-tip.

A pair of bright, golden eyes focused on her. Its expression was one of knowing, the creature’s face reflecting intelligent curiosity and interest.

AsaHi felt her whole body grow stiff. A strange, static rush nearly swept her off of her feet. Balancing only on the toes of her boots, her eyes met the gaze of the magnificent beast. And something within her, a part that she couldn’t quite identify, reached out to it.

Dragon…

The girl had never seen a real Dragon before. If one didn’t count the spectral image of the white Dragon in the Host Gate. Everyone knew that the Dragons were highly respected and revered servants of Zemi Dreigiau. They were also rumored to be protectors of the people of the Inner Realms.

AsaHi had always approached this fact with a good deal of doubt. After all, how could Dragons protect anyone if they were never present?

Seeing one of these mystical creatures in person had left her standing dumbfounded, staring fearfully, mouth too dry to speak. The great creature remained effortlessly hovering in mid-air, its slender head craned down to peer at the stricken girl.

What… what is it doing here?

Mesmerized, AsaHi couldn’t bring herself to break away from its gaze. Something within her moved her feet forward. One step. Then another. A silent yearning jolted through every inch of her body. Her hand reached upwards, fingers spread towards the brilliant burning bronze.

Just one touch…

The Dragon snaked back its head. The motion was beautiful… graceful… the sunlight mirroring off of its hide in blinding reflection.

The girl’s breath caught.

How… beautiful…

Golden eyes narrowed. Then the great maw opened, a nerve-splitting roar resounding through the entire chasm.

AsaHi was knocked to her knees. Huddling among the wavering grasses, she threw her hands up to cover her ears. It felt as if her limbs had been rendered to nothing more than jelly and now refused to cooperate in aiding her in escape. For as beautiful as the Dragon was… making a run for it was now the only thought that filled the girl’s mind.

What did I do wrong!? Why is it angry with me!?

The creature reared back, shattering the air with another tremendous roar.

AsaHi’s breath caught. Every hair on the back of her neck stood on end. Her dazed face lifted, looking beyond the great wings of the beast before her. Looking even higher in the sky.

It, too, came from the chasm. A second dragon… nearly twice the size of the first. It was very similar in color, hide glowing with a hue that pushed a bit more towards crimson than bronze. The light of its deep gold eyes alighted on AsaHi’s crumpled form for but a moment. Then it reared back its head, a huge billow of white flame erupting from its mouth.

AsaHi screamed, covering her head with both arms. The heat was overwhelming as the molten spray shot through the air… and much to her surprise, far over her head.

A chorus of screeches echoed her own.

The girl whirled her head at the sound, eyes widening.

The clump of bushes only ten feet away burst into ashes. A number of hissing, melting figures leapt from the heat of the flame, howling in agony before they puddle away. AsaHi caught sight of one before it was consumed, face growing instantly pale.

Marked!?

In the bushes.

Following me?

Her breath caught in a choke.

How did I not even know they were there?

The flames died almost as quickly as they had caught. There was nothing left for yards but long streaks of black ash along the ground.

The Dragons… they…

AsaHi turned to gape up at the two enormous creatures. Absolute awe and terror marked her face.

They… protected me?

It might have been her imagination. But she could have sworn that the larger of the two gave a polite nod before it winged away into the sky with a graceful twist. The other followed with a ringing trumpet.

AsaHi could only stare, watching them until they were nothing more than specks in the sky. Then she began to run. She did not stop until she reached the camp.

“Master Kudako?”

“Hrm?” the Dragon peered up from where he was assembling the timber for the fire.

“What is that dark area out there?” AsaHi pointed.

The sky was shifting into deep amethyst tones, the sparking hints of starlight poking through the canopy above. Where the golden pool of sun had begun to sink on the horizon, a long black smear marred the view.

They had been out on the road for nearly half a week now, and this was the first bit of strangeness that they had encountered. AsaHi had first taken note of it earlier that afternoon. Thinking it was a set of dark stone hills, she had figured it would pass eventually. But it had not.

“Dragon’s Cleft,” he answered.

“What’s that?” the girl frowned. “I’ve never heard of it.”

He paused for a second, face plainly shifting back and forth between considerations. Part of him seemed to want to be polite and answer the question. The other part of him looked about to tell AsaHi to go fetch the pans and start making supper.

“Neither have I,” SoYa’s voice came from behind.

AsaHi turned her head to see the Apprentice kneeling next to his packs, rummaging around inside of one. His eyes were upturned and curious, attention fixed upon the conversation at hand.

“That’s the problem with you Inner Realm-dwellers,” the Dragon muttered shortly. “You don’t know half of what’s been going on in the world around you.”

“Hey now… don’t rag the kids,” Zento strode into the camp. Over one shoulder hung the limp bodies of three large brown birds. No doubt it would be their supper for the night.

“Was I talking to you?” Kudako frowned.

“Does it really matter if you were or not?”

“No… you’d say what was on your mind no how foolish it made you look,” the Dragon snorted in mock insult.

“Exactly,” Zento grinned.

AsaHi gave the winged man a soft smile. He had a way of being there to stick up for her at just the right times. She didn’t know if it was just because Zento loved to hassle Kudako, but there was always a large grin painted on his face.

A trouble-maker’s grin.

“It’s not like they came from the most well informed source,” Zento continued. “It’s rather hard to learn something that isn’t being taught.”

“That is true, I suppose.”

“So… what is Dragon’s Cleft?” AsaHi squinted between the two of them.

“Ask Kudako. He’s the exxxpert on these things,” Zento gave a short laugh and flopped down a little ways from the group to pluck his catch.

AsaHi and SoYa turned to look at the Dragon.

“Thank you,” the warrior grumbled, lighting the pile of brush with the firemaker.

“It’s the least I can do, old buddy,” the winged man chortled.

Finally, SoYa pulled a wide, flat-headed grooming brush out of the pack. Striding over to where Thorneblade grazed, the Apprentice began to work over the creature’s flanks with long practiced strokes.

AsaHi stared very purposefully at Kudako. She was waiting for her answer.

The Dragon’s golden eyes alighted on her. Then they fixed back on the young fire he was nursing. A wide grimace shifted over his face as he tried, not very successfully, to ignore the girl.

SoYa watched the two of them from over the back of the rhawn.

AsaHi finally cleared her throat, expression growing stern in the face of the warrior’s silence.

Kudako sighed and answered quickly, “Dragon’s Cleft is a fissure that separates the Inner Realms from the Outterlands. We have to cross over it eventually. So you’ll be seeing enough of it in the future.”

The Apprentice gave a few more innocent sweeps of the brush before leaning forward. “Why is it called ‘Dragon’s Cleft’?”

“I am not a history teacher,” the Dragon frowned, a strangled patience making lines at the corners of his mouth.

“You don’t know the answer?” AsaHi chided.

“I do.”

“I bet you don’t,” SoYa grinned slightly.

“I do.”

“I don’t think he does either,” AsaHi peered over at the Apprentice with a playful shrug.

“I just said, I did,” Kudako’s teeth began to grind.

Zento didn’t even try to hide his amusement. A low chuckle spilled down from the hill he was sitting on, soft blue-green eyes shimmering with mirth.

Kudako grew absolutely silent, face falling stone-stiff.

“Lighten up will ya?” the winged man prodded with a good-natured smile. “The kids are just curious. Would it hurt you to associate with them for just a little while?”

The Dragon grimaced.

AsaHi’s grin faded.

A mounting worry replaced it. A worry that nagged her with the fact that maybe the warrior was sincerely annoyed at her. Kudako was the last person that she’d want to fall out of favor with… especially as stern and unyielding as he seemed to be. There was no promise that once you earned the Dragon’s displeasure that you’d ever be able to work yourself back into his approval again.

He must have sensed the change in disposition. Kudako’s golden eyes shifted from AsaHi to SoYa. Finally, he leaned back from the fir