The Dragon waited for him at the other side, its appearance being just the same as he went in. The cloak still waited on his claw, and the eyes of the thing were filled with deep thought, and a hint of intense curiosity. Its golden scales still shined, despite the gaps.

The man actually was disappointed for a moment, he had hoped to see the Shade waiting for him at the end of the journey, but he realized it was far too proud and smart a thing to stay around, it had surely gone out into the endless desert, exploring its new bounds.

He had no shame in showing this on his face either. To which the Dragon let out a snort.

“Welcome, wanderer. May I ask, have you found your name?” The Dragon’s eyes were caught on the new side of the crown that lay on the man’s side, and he only thought of why it wasn’t on his head. The man’s back was high with confidence and his head straight. To not wear the crown that would complete himself, the Dragon found it quite amusing.

“Yes, I’m Epim.” He said firmly and quickly in response, and said more in reflection. “But I don’t know who gave it to me, or what it meant. I don’t know everything that came with it. And I know much more of here than of before. So, although I am Epim I’d like to let those who meet me know, I am Epim, Wanderer From the Black Sands.”

To this, the Dragon let out a real laugh now, one that threw its enormous maw open with a bellow. The sand shook, and the overcast did as well. Even the tiny light behind Epim that had lost its purpose under the sky, shone much brighter for a moment.

“Not Epim of the Cave, good, good!” The Dragon spoke with emphasis. “And I see the crown you had broken in two quite nicely. You’ve the parts but won’t reunite them. Does accepting the full scope of the past scare you?”

The Dragon chuckled. “But you have that light, so gentle behind you. I doubt you fear that the shade from the crown will be too dark.”

Epim looks at the arrogant Dragon again, and understands a hint of what the Fairy meant. And so he responded in kind, with a hint of his own arrogance. “Hmph, you question my crown but you haven’t even said your name! Dragon, is that truly who you are?”

The Dragon now responded with a fantastic smile, a predator beyond any other predator showing a genuine joy that should have struck fear into the soul, but it was lost to the sands.

“Of course, how rude! But remember in our first encounter, you didn’t dare to ask my name, so don’t presume to have an upper hand in our conversation.” A chuckle. “But to say you’re a fool for not asking for something you didn’t know was important, I’m afraid that’s a result of my arrogance.”

The Dragon now stood, and Epim saw that it was a task hard for it. Its body, although noble and grand, still strained with weakness. But that weakness was incomparable to the spectacle, the Dragon spread its wings to the sky and roared upwards with pride.

“I am Carus! Usurper of time, emperor of the Dragons.” And Carus bellowed a breath to the sky, a tempest of energy running through his throat and exploding out in a golden flame. For a moment more light than ever before filled the desert, and then the overcast took over once more, and twilight reigned.

This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

Epim understood, and answered Carus’s question without further delay.

“I don’t wear my crown as a whole, because I’m unsure if I’m fit to wear it. I don’t know If I am a king, and to put a complete crown on my head would feel foolish. And unlike the Fairy, I do not know if I’d ever find the crack splitting the sides beautiful.” And Carus was satisfied with this answer to which he took a moment to ponder in silence.

“But you still wear the half you have, afraid to take it off because it’s been with you for so long. Hmm, not a problem but a result all the same that might bind you. Hmm… Hmm…” And the dragon’s eyes looked at Epim who was staring at the sands, caught in his own strand of thought.

“Tell me, would you be willing to part with your crown altogether like you did your cloak? Entrust it to me, wouldn’t you?” And Carus looked at him, awaiting the answer.

The man thought of the purpose of his journey, of how the crown returned him his name. He thought of the comfort it brought him over the long, long journey in the sands. And he feared that he would forever give away the chance to see the crown in its complete form.

He spited Casus for asking it of him with no reward in return, and he looked indecisively, until he looked behind him and saw the light, still there. He thought of the knife, still at his side. And he thought of his memories, still so precious to him. And then he thought of Casus, and how his journey into the cave was because of him. He thought of how he waited until he returned, watching the cloak perhaps in perpetuity if he never did.

He unclasped the crown from his side, and took the other side from his head. In response, Carus offered his claw to which Epim laid the sides gently down. Carus moved his claw to the center of the crater, and dropped the sides with much less grace than Epim. It once again moved its herculean body, bringing its head directly above the crater. The cloak too was now deposited in the crater. As well as Epim himself, of course though he is at the edge.

Carus’s throat glowed with gold, and his eyes had a fearsome light that could have stricken fear into Epim’s very heart, but he instead only looked with admiration.

Casus unleashed a torrent of gold flame into the crater. It covered it and spilled out in a reckless manner, marking the sands around the crater with speckles of gold. Within the crater, Epim saw himself overtaken by the flames. They danced around him, not burning but they did consume him. His memories since he met the Fairy became clearer than ever, and his senses were fresher than they ever had been, perhaps even since birth.

He wished the flame lasted longer than it did, but the impression would last upon him forever. His sight cleared as the gold flame quickly sputtered out, and his eyes immediately focused on where the crown and his cloak were.

His cloak now struck him as a bit odd. The black sands had permanently painted themselves on its right arm, the previous white fur now a fine black. And were he to know about the blood on his cloak, he would think it had seemingly been burned right off and not a trace of it existed anymore.

And before he laid his eyes upon the crown, a tremendous bang rang out from the heavens. A streak of gold broke through the permanent overcast, and crashed into the desert with a tremor that he could feel even through his legs. In the distance, a pillar of gold is now permanently cast into the sky.

Then Carus’s voice spoke out once more. “Epim of the black sands, go to the starlight. Find the path that breaks free from the clouds. Take your treasures, and wander no more.”

Epim wanted to voice his gratitude, but Carus demanded a silence upon the area. He’d understood, to the dragon who conquered time, these moments would have to pass without a goodbye. He would never forget Epim's solitary figure in the sand, and that was enough.

And Epim looked back to the crown, and understood the gift of Carus could not be understated. Now instead of two halves of a crown, a golden ring with no embellishment remains in the sand. A part rough, a part pristine. Although Epim could not call himself a king, he understood Carus. He would still carry the weight, regardless of regality.

He donned the cloak and slid the ring on his finger, walking off to the pillar of gold in the distance, no longer a wanderer.