The Asterian Dream

VII: Secrets and Memories

 Having neither the weapons or the skills to hope to assist, Conrad could only look on as Fasela and Greydor fought. As he watched, he felt a rising feeling within himself. He collapsed to the ground and began desperately grasping at the grass, trying to keep himself centered. His mind felt as if it was grinding itself into shreds, and he almost screamed out in terror and pain as his higher mental faculties faltered. After several minutes, and all while Fasela and Greydor continued to grapple, he finally regained full consciousness and control of himself. His body shaking all over, he slowly got to his feet and looked back over at the scene of the fight just in time to see Fasela go crashing to the ground, a massive wound in her side. As he saw this, the rising feeling returned, and this time he did nothing to stop it. His mind entirely failed as his body shredded apart and reformed into a terrifying creature. The beast resembled a Dragonborn, but the back was hunched, the scales were sharp as blades, and a hideous black flame burned off its back. Seeing Fasela bleeding out on the ground, it flew into a blind rage and leapt at Greydor. Throwing him to the ground, it tore at his flesh almost killing him, but Greydor managed to kick the creature off and used a spell to transport himself. He vaporized, leaving nothing but pieces of broken medal and blood all over the ground. The creature saw nothing was in its hands any longer, and turned just in time to see Fasela stand back up. In an instant, Conrad's mind returned to him, and the creature disintegrated, giving him his body back. Conrad sat on the ground, not daring to look Fasela in the eyes.

Fasela slowly arose, still wincing in pain from her wounds. But her pain was the least of her concerns as she approached Conrad. She stopped a few feet away from him.

"So that is what you were hiding," she said. "You suffer the same plague as all the harik draugh."

Conrad let out a small laugh. "It was about time you figured out I'm a harik."

Fasela moved behind him. She unfastened her sword from its scabbard. "The harik are the ones responsible for all those who lie dead in unmarked graves, their spouses and children crying every day because their fathers and mothers were taken away." She then put her sword to the back of his head. "How can I believe you're not conspiring against me? Your kind has led countless of my brethren to destruction."

Conrad grabbed the back of the blade and pushed it into his scalp, drawing a little blood. "You can't, and I don't expect you to trust me. Do what you must."

Fasela gripped the hilt of the blade tightly and was about to push it forward. But something was keeping her from doing it. Even as she tried, she just could not bring herself to perform the killing blow. She removed the blade, and a surprised Conrad turned back.

"Well, aren't you going to do it?" he asked.

Fasela stood still, her blade at her side, not moving at all for a while.

"When you shifted," she asked. "What were you feeling?"

"Anger and fear, I think," he said.

Fasela remained silent for a while longer, still not moving. Confused, Conrad stood up.

"Aren't you going to do something?" he asked.

She said nothing. He raised his hand as he was about to speak again, but she grabbed it and pushed it down.

"You shifted when you saw me injured. Hariks split from their souls cannot shift at will. You did it because you were scared for my life." She then fastened her sword back into its scabbard. "You have done it."

"Done what?" he asked, confused.

"Earned my trust. You showed me where your heart is. By shifting when you did, you demonstrated that you only use your power when you believe others you care about are in danger, and not yourself. That is the actions of someone I can trust. You still have much to learn, but I have hope for you."