Rise of the Darkness

A Relic Out of Reach

Oculeera

     A chair. I need this after such a long climb. I thought humans designed rising compartments or something as an alternative to stairs. What were they called? We rode on one while exploring London.

     Xanmet-kal, dressed in flowing robes, gestured to our seats as she sat down in hers. Comfy chairs, so much more so than a mound of dirt or a log.

     "Oculeera, forgive me if I seem centered on Novayar, but you must understand that the return of the dogantigis sopbaki is of great interest to our kind. You will not be ignored, however."

     I nod. This is to be expected.

     "I have already chosen academic Masters to teach you both, as well as physical training Masters who will at times work with both of you. It has been decided that the two of you ought to stay together as much as possible so that you know each other's strengths and weaknesses. I take it based on your behaviors that you two are on friendly terms with each other. You will stay that way, or else I will have someone intervene."

     "We won't go any farther than friendship, I promise," Novayar said.

     "I worry not about that. You will not end your friendship, that is what I mean."

     I investigate Xanmet-kal's face as she looked at the both of us. Age wise she looks almost as old as Master Wukro, though she moves with an almost youthful grace. She also does not look quite Oriental in her features like Novayar does. Maybe she is not from around here. No dragon hatches in this clan, but I think she traveled from farther away to get here.

     Beyond the physical traits, I see a hardened expression. Master has told me Xanmet-kal is a tough leader, one who demands respect and strives for justice, but does not often associate herself with those around her. A lonely leader, one who scarcely shows emotion while performing her duties. It would be a bad thing indeed for either me or Novayar to step out of line.

     "Over the past month I have gathered much about you two. Your habits, histories, your depth of knowledge. The Elders of Kucho held a narrow-minded idea of what to do with you two once you met. Training is important, but not to the point of ignoring each other. Your friendly terms ought to turn into a true friendship."

     I turn to Novayar, then back to Xanmet-kal. "I think we can manage this," I tell her.

     "You must. Anyway, you get my point. I must ask you, Novayar, about your times spent outside of a clan. Your foster parents refused to bring you to a clan when they figured out what you are. Furthermore, once it was revealed to you, and made clear to you that there is danger in being who you are, you personally decided to remain in place, despite being in close proximity to a Kewmoni who had already acted against you. And they allowed it. Once I get into contact with the Deriksons I will demand an explanation for their actions. But now, I must demand an explanation for your decisions."

     "I, uh..."

     "Just because that was the only incident that has happened to you does not mean you are entirely safe. As this prophecy unravels itself more and more, the forces that want to spread the shadows will try harder to use you to their own ends or neutralize your threat to them. As of now you are untrained and unable to defend yourself. You are smart enough to realize this, I hope." Xanmet-kal's voice never rose but gained an unmistakable edge.

     "They gave me a choice."

     "That is their mistake. Yours is choosing to stay with them. Dragon kind should be relieved that the prophecy convinced them to take you to Kucho."