To Head Scholar Yuya,

This is urgent.

As we were tallying RainBringer's comings and goings from YiZhi Mountain, we spotted a draconic form flying southwest from the Castle in the Sky towards the Endless Sands. We know for a fact that it was not RainBringer, for RainBringer herself flew northeast no more than a week later, predicted to bless the fields in Teljumaya.

There was no mistaking it. My cohort of scholars and I are not trained in the Sight, but between us we have tentatively agreed that the scales were jade-green, the mane and the horns a bright yellow-gold. A stark contrast from RainBringer's cerulean scales, light gray mane, and white-silver horns.

To get ahead of your questions, it was not IceMourne. She has already returned to the Northern Plains. And unless our fellow scholars have not updated us on EarthShaker's movements, he should still be sleeping within the Spike Maelstrom until Autumn's Colors.

Finally, I believe the direction it flew is important: south-west, towards the Endless Sands. As we all know, DuskWing's old Lair, the Black Pyramid, has been dragon-less for centuries.

The ongoing conclusion my other scholars and I have come to is grim. Scholar Khmi's theory comes to mind: Summer's Warmth has gone for too long without a dragon.

Even in the best case scenario where the circumstantial evidence is unrelated, a previously unknown dragon has become active. The Cities cannot handle more disasters, but we may return to the historic days of Summer's Plague.

We request the Head Scholars to make an official request for Sanctuary to give us any information they may have. I pray that this dragon may be as benevolent as RainBringer.

May the light of knowledge guide you through times of darkness.

Scholar Gibryl

----------------------------------------

Molam could scarcely believe himself as he walked down the Stairs. Though he had decided it himself despite the phoenix's incessant cautioning, something about the descent into Sanctuary's Inner Sanctum this time seemed off to him. With each step, the feeling of unease magnified itself, causing a falter in his step as the light from the opening above winked out of existence.

You seem full of doubt.

"Well yes, that often happens when a flightless human descends into darkness." Molam responded as he continued his descent. "On Stairs with no railings, too."

Even though you already know what is down there? The spirit's voice jibed.

"One thing I know of fear: it has nothing to do with certainty." Molam quoted Flangel the Wise.

Or perhaps, because you do not feel strongly about this.

"I don't," Molam agreed as well.

A stunned silence, punctuated only by his echoless footsteps.

"To put it perfectly together, I don't feel strongly about leaving the Castle again."

…then what was with your earlier moment of conviction?

"I do feel strongly about not staying in RainBringer's Castle, particularly since I expect to be there again by myself." He paused mid-step, readjusting his pack. "Not to mention, RainBringer's daughter is establishing her lair in the Black Pyramid, so my family member won't be returning to the Castle anytime soon. Probably not within my lifetime."

Your… family. The spirit repeated. And RainBringer—

"RainBringer," Molam interjected, "is not one I would say is family."

His voice echoed into nothingness. With a start, Molam realized his face must be flushed. But the idea that RainBringer was — could — be family; he shook his head. He had discarded the hope long ago.

So, what is she?

The question caught him off guard. "She's more of a… guardian."

Oh? Now that's a curious thought. Not family? Yet based on your memories, she was the one who had the caretaker spirits clothe and feed you? Who gave you a warm Castle to stay in?

"That's not family." Molam frowned at the idea. "Any guardsman barracks can have unbonded hounds that get tags, food, and shelter, but you can see the difference in treatment to see those aren't family. It's more of a pet."

When I inevitably bring this up later, you just openly considered yourself a pet. The spirit's voice contained a hint of mirth. Though I understand that some humans refer to their pets as family.

"Look, you seem very concerned with this concept." Molam ribbed back. "Do you want me to consider RainBringer as family or something? I'd refer you to the learned scholars at the Fallen Star Pavilion, but it almost seems as though you have some ulterior intent behind this."

The Prince talked about the idea of family a lot. It was one of the few topics I enjoyed listening to.

Taken aback by the spirit's sudden moroseness, Molam's voice softened. "I assume spirits don't have such a thing as family? Actually, now that we're on the topic, where do spirits come from?"

We have… A jumble of thoughts — some bizarre, others incoherent — was conveyed to Molam. An image of nothingness, followed by a jumble of colors. A sense of something close to the self, splitting and fracturing. Formed thoughts struggled to the surface only to be drowned out by a tumultuous sense of confusing perspectives; of a singular point becoming whole, the everything found in nothingness, the burgeoning sense of time, the transcendent idea of being, the—

"Stop. That hurts my head." Molam shook his head, stopping in his descent and sitting down on the glimmering Stairs. His vision swam; he found himself leaning to the side, bracing his weight on a hand as he closed his eyes, trying to calm himself down from the dizzying thoughts.

I apologize. I admit this is the first time I have tried speaking to a mortal about this.

As the vestiges of the spirit's confusing thoughts slipped away from his mind, Molam straightened himself up and leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. "I don't know much about spirits, but the idea of family might be reserved for mortals with flesh and blood. The same way I don't understand… whatever you just tried to explain to me, it might be the same for me explaining family to you."

That is understandable. I suppose I will observe for now and learn by watching you.

"Observe?" Molam stood back up. "Observe what?"

A spark flashed in the darkness and the phoenix materialized onto his shoulder in a swirl of flames. Well, you will make a family one day, yes?

"What do you —" Molam turned his face to the phoenix with a look of incredulity then felt his foot step down incorrectly, slipping on the Stairs. His arms flailed, grasping for the glimmering steps of the Stairs above him in vain. Balance gone, Molam twisted himself to try and grab the steps he had slipped on only for his fingers to swipe through the empty air.

The Stairs rushed past him as he fell, a glimmering pillar of light. Flames erupted around him in a bubble, but he fell right through them. The distant glow below rushed at him and the air rushed past his ears in a whistle when the spirit's dismayed voice bellowed in his mind.

Molam!

***

Nothing hurt.

Molam forced himself to open his eyes and sit up immediately. Nothing hurt. Nothing… hurt. He looked down at his body and held out his arms, flipping his palms down and inspecting his limbs.

You did well. He's alive.

Nothing hurt?

"I see one of the Gods must have heard my prayer." Molam turned at the Oracle's echoless voice to see her kneel-sitting behind him, watching him through her dragon mask. The phoenix glided down from above to alight on the Oracle's raised arm. He looked down again to see he was laying on the Oracle's dais. "Were you in such a hurry to return, child?"

"No, I fell… I thought I fell…" Molam looked down again. His beating heart slowed down as he looked for the words, looking up into the Inner Sanctum's darkness. A deep breath, then a glance at the Oracle as he ran through all of the possible reasons why.

Stolen novel; please report.

"I see." Of course. The Inner Sanctum was her Domain. He ran a hand along the back of his head, ensuring nothing was truly broken.

"Have you reconsidered taking advantage of the Prince's slumber?"

Do not pressure him. The phoenix flapped an irritated wing. His life is his own now, remember?

"It is." The Oracle's eyes stared at Molam as he stood up. "And he has chosen to come back down to participate in the Festival."

"Do you choose to kneel?" Molam asked, pointing at the Oracle's position. "I've never seen you in any other position in the five years I've seen you. That can't be good for your knees, right?"

The phoenix stared with beady eyes. Molam, boy, that is quite rude to the person who just saved your life.

"Oh yes, thank you, I hope saving my life isn't going to cost me another task." Molam shrugged at the spirit's glare, looking down at the Oracle. "Sorry for changing the topic so suddenly. I wanted to give you the feeling of being the topic of discussion for once. Someone should care about your health."

Molam refused to look away as he locked eyes with her. Though he had expected it coming down, he hadn't expected the Oracle to be so perniciously stubborn. Well, if she intended to badger him repeatedly, he had no intention to give her the initiative in choosing the topic.

"I appreciate your concern for my health, but I am surrounded by the Gods," she replied, gesturing. Molam spun around to see her white glow illuminating the statues of the seven Gods. "Should I not kneel to them?"

He turned back to her slowly. "I see," he repeated himself again. "Well, once again, thank you for saving me."

"It happens to be that I was wondering which Priestess I could trust with this." She held out her other hand. As she flipped her palm upwards, she seemed to pull the spirit's red egg out of nothingness. "But now that you are here, I believe you are happy to oblige."

"How would you know?"

"Why else would you come down?"

"Nettie." Molam didn't bother keeping the accusatory tone out of his voice. "The Prodigy. Where is she?"

"She is with Ji and Primrose. Why do you ask?"

After a moment of searching the Oracle's demeanor for any sign of lying, Molam relaxed his clenched fist. "I thought… you would sacrifice a piece to delay the Empire's victory."

"Delaying is not a victory on my part, as you pointed out. And if the Prince had extracted the SunFlower's design from Flangel, it would be a pointless sacrifice. We could use the Prodigy's help in the future."

Molam frowned. He had not expected the Oracle to be so… pragmatic about the situation. "Well, yes. I'm certainly glad you could see it this way."

"Now back to the main topic at hand." The Oracle held up the egg.

Molam held out a grudging hand. With a gentle push, the Oracle floated the egg towards him. It sank into his palm, fiercely warm and pulsating with heat.

"The Priestess outside will guide you to the bonfire."

The spirit flew over to Molam's shoulder. Three days and three nights. My egg will bask in that fire and when I wake, I will be truly reborn.

"Do I have to stand there the entire time?" Molam asked.

No. Just hide my egg in the World Tree's elderwood and let it stoke in the flames. When this is over, I will allow you to bear witness my full glory. My wings are a mesmerizing dance of fire, my plumage painted with the very essence of dawn. In fact, I believe I am the origin of the human term for "looking hot," and you'll understand when you see my tail-feathers — no grand display of celestial fireworks could ever aspire to my brilliant avian elegance. Not to mention my claws! An iron grip such as mine —

Molam ignored the rest of its thoughts. "I'm going to need to be the one to start the fire too, no?" He pointed out. "That way I can carry the egg with me and place it just before we start the bonfire. Unless you trust that no one will find the egg. Actually, what if someone wants to steal it and can brave the flames?"

It is the flame from burning elderwood. The spirit seemed annoyed that Molam had interrupted its monologue. No one could touch it.

"If you say so. Assuming no one wants to touch the fire." Molam conceded, but still thought of how this could fail. "But what about before it's burnt? I'm hardly a great protector."

The Oracle pointed and an object whistled out of the Inner Sanctum's darkness, coming to stop and hovering right next to Molam. A torch. "No one would touch you within Sanctuary. You will be allowed to start the bonfire. I trust you to do this well."

"Saying this out loud makes me feel like a petulant child, but I want you to know that I'm not doing this for you." Molam snagged the torch out of the air. "Or for RainBringer."

The dragon mask seemed to smile an eerie grin. "For whom then?"

Molam turned away from the Oracle and walked towards the Inner Sanctum's exit. "For myself."

His footsteps echoed throughout as he waited for the Oracle to say anything in response. But she never did. The silence pressed in on him Only her echoless voice, repeating her last question inside his thoughts.

For whom then?

For whom indeed.

***

When the door closed behind Molam, an orange feather sizzled near the Oracle's cushion.

I did not ask earlier while Molam was here, but something about your aura seems different. Is this focal point weighing on you?

"I can still hold the Seal."

Then what is it? You understand the importance of maintaining a clear mind. What is stopping your concentration? When she did not respond, the feather burned orange. You have already done well being DuskWing's replacement for centuries, and you will only need to endure this a while longer.

"I experienced a moment of wavering."

What do you mean? The spirit asked sharply. The Seal loosened?

"No. Just a thought." A pause. Then she murmured, "I experienced a moment where I gave significant consideration for having the current Prodigy… removed."

What? The spirit's mental voice carried an air of surprise. Why?

"She can build the SunFlower." The Oracle shook her head. "The boy was right. It seemed to be the simplest way. If that had been a solo audience, I cannot say for sure I would not have acted on it." After a moment, the Oracle added. "But it would not solve our problem. The Prince would merely find another method. I found the SunFlower's design in Flangel's Ring as well, and because we do not know if the Prince extracted it from Flangel… I cannot rule out that he will be capable of building the SunFlower if he awakes. We will need the Prodigy and keep a copy of the design in case anything happens to her."

I see. But you still need rest. The Seal must have weakened since DuskWing fell and caused the shadows to grow bolder. The feather combusted, spreading a ring of orange flame out in the Inner Sanctum. The fire passed harmlessly right over the Oracle's head as it replaced the Oracle's own white aura to chase away the darkness of the Inner Sanctum, fully illuminating it with a reddish glow. The only darkness that could be found hid within the shadows of the seven statues arrayed around the Oracle. I will channel through this feather to stabilize the leylines for the Festival's duration so you can rest. I assume you will stay unbothered during the Festival?

"No one will come in. Will this distract you from your rebirth?"

Only my egg needs to be there, and we have done what we can to keep it safe. When I complete my rebirth, I will be able to help you stabilize YiZhi Mountain's focal point, long enough for RainBringer's daughter to establish her hold over the Black Pyramid.

The Oracle lifted her head, eyes peering through her mask at the statues of the Gods. Their stone eyes saw none of the darkness behind them.

"Ji should be able to handle the Festival by himself then, and the Prodigy is under his protection."

No need to convince yourself. Rest. You have earned it.

***

Molam found two Priestesses waiting for him in the halls of Sanctuary. On the left was Priestess Komura, her long hair tied in a tight bun that framed her face. Streaks of white ran through the black. He did not recognize the Priestess on the right; a younger woman moderately taller than Priestess Komura, with thick brown hair that glinted auburn over a slender brown face and button nose.

The two of them bowed. Komura spoke, "The Festival begins in one incense's time. I understand we are to guide you to the Festival's bonfire as you have been selected to start it."

"Priestess Komura." Molam stepped up and knelt down in front of her, holding her hand. "Don't ever try this with me again. I do not ever deserve a bow from you." He added, "And I'm very worried you're going to convince me to do something else."

"I am showing the proper manners to my apprentice here." She smiled, but straightened up from her bow at the gentle insistence of his hand. She gave him a pointed look. "Even if you didn't remember to act equally courteously to my apprentice. This is Priestess Shantayla."

Molam's gaze lingered on Priestess Komura for a moment before he straightened and turned to Priestess Shantayla. Had Priestess Komura always had those few extra wrinkles around her eyes and mouth? He hoped Sanctuary hadn't finally assigned Priestess Komura an apprentice because she was… aging.

"I'm sorry if I seemed rude and I didn't mean to act as though you weren't there. I was merely surprised to see Priestess Komura, and we have known each other for quite some time." The younger Priestess seemed to turn stiff at being addressed, so Molam tried giving her a warm smile. He jerked his head towards Priestess Komura. "You can tell by how comfortable she feels when it comes to publicly chastising my manners."

The girl nodded once. Then as though she decided it wasn't enough, she nodded again, a furious motion that caused her hair to sway back and forth. Several strands of hair stuck to the front of her face, causing the girl to brush them away with a sleeve.

"Only because your lack of manners reflect poorly on my teaching. Just as it would look bad on Sanctuary if the bonfire is late to be lit." Priestess Komura gestured down the hall, beckoning to Molam. Priestess Shantayla held out a hand in the same direction and looked at Molam, who stared at the silent Priestess in bewilderment. She still hadn't said anything to him.

"Did I offend you?"

Priestess Komura laughed. "Don't mind that. Shantayla doesn't talk much. She made the mistake of saying the wrong thing last week and decided that it is best she says nothing while she learns the ways of a Priestess. I hope it's only temporary, now that we've been paired as mentor and apprentice."

"Don't let one mistake dictate the rest of your life." Molam met Priestess Shantayla's gaze, then winked. "I hear Priestesses cannot separate for the duration of their mentorship, and Priestess Komura loves to talk. She must be dreading your lack of responses."

"I do not love to talk."

"Ask your apprentice, then, when she's ready to talk to you."

Priestess Shantayla's brown eyes softened ever so slightly, then she flickered her gaze towards where Priestess Komura was walking in a meaningful manner. Molam nodded, then the two of them followed.

"That was rude of you for using me to put her on the spot then," he murmured to the older Priestess when he caught up to her. "I thought she was ignoring me because she disliked me."

"Oh?" The Priestess didn't look at him, guiding the way through Sanctuary's winding corridors. "And what made you think that?"

The Oracle's earlier parting silence, he wanted to say. Even before that, a memory from long ago, when he asked why they were tying him up and was met with silence.

"In my experience, saying nothing is still saying something."

"For whom?" Priestess Komura glanced at him as they turned a corner. "For you or for themselves?"

Molam stayed silent as they continued to walk through Sanctuary. Behind him, Priestess Shantayla's muffled footsteps followed, but he thought against looking backwards at her. Priestess Komura's question echoed the Oracle's, reverberating in his thoughts.

For whom?

For whom indeed.