Siaril let the door fall shut silently before glancing at me. "Where to then?"

Without a word, I led him to the border of the village, a bit away from the last houses. Underneath the trees there, stood two small benches made from oak logs, which the elders used for little chat gatherings during warm, summer days. We brushed the snow from them and sat down.

"It's so peaceful here," the stranger looked around. His voice seemed even more tranquil now, as if the calm tone he used with Tavris was supposed to represent rage. He didn't seem so different from me in appearance, but the way he spoke made me think he was a lot older. "Spring must be breathtakingly beautiful in this region."

I didn't answer. I scooped up a bit of snow from the ground and started kneading it. My fingers didn't seem to quite recognize the feeling of cold, only a faint chill like from the water of a brook in late spring. It was hard to comprehend...

"Strange, isn't it?" asked Siaril quietly. "I didn't understand either..."

"But what does it mean?" I was almost desperate at this point. "I don't really care who you are, just tell me what's going on..."

"Before I do, I need to ask you something. Do you already know what your sirath is capable of?"

I glanced at the crystal in my other hand. "It 'warns me'... when someone's lying to me, right?"

"Exactly. Which is why you should know whether or not you can trust me."

"Yeah, but... what in the world is that anyway? The name is so strange and I don't get why I keep hearing that it's mine."

Siaril adjusted his tone a little, as if he wanted his words to reach only me, and no further. "In the language of dragons 'sirie' means 'fragment', and 'atiher' means 'guardian'. So it can be translated as 'a guardian's fragment'."

"This... comes from a dragon?"

"Yes. From one of the Last Dragons. No doubt you heard of them?"

"I did... Is it true that they decided to give some of their powers to three random people? Is this stone one of those pieces of power?"

"Yes and no... They surely didn't choose anyone randomly. And yes, this stone has a piece of dragon magic in it, but the actual power the dragon left behind is inside of you... That's why the crystal reacts in the intended way for you and no one else, the fragments of magic recognize each other. And that's how that guy could tell it was really you he was searching for."

"That's crazy..."

"Is the fact that you don't feel cold anymore not proof enough? Every dragon had an inner heat that made them resistant... if you more though, you could try touching some flame when you get home. It shouldn't burn you."

I let out a small, overwhelmed breath. It was getting crazier by the minute. "How do you know all this though?"

In response, Siaril reached underneath his coat and pulled out a crystal... My eyebrows wandered up. It had nearly the same shape as mine, but it was sky-blue...

"You're one of those people too..."

"I am. I'm the Disciple of Ralethiel, the Blue Dragon."

"And me...?"

"You're the Disciple of Sariarin, the Black Dragon."

I winced a little, something in my memory reminding me of its presence with a small sting. "Wasn't... wasn't it a black dragon that long ago started that war by burning a village down...?"

"Just because one black dragon was evil, doesn't mean that they all were, does it?"

"I... guess," I muttered, remembering the conversation I once had with Kristya on the tower's viewing platform. "There were three Last Dragons though, weren't there?"

Siaril nodded. "I'm not entirely sure where to look for the last one... but I'm hoping to find an answer here." He reached into a bag that hung hidden beneath his coat and took out a book... a quite huge book. The sturdy cover was made of beautifully sculptured wood, the thickness of it surpassing anything I've ever seen in the royal library.

"What's that?"

"You could say it's a chronicle. The third of the Last Dragons, Yrvanyss, was supposedly an annalist of the dragon race, keeping record of every event significant to them."

"Whoa... where did you find that?"

"In those caves in the mountains. It was once the lair of Yrvanyss."

"What? I thought those were abandoned mines."

Siaril smiled a little. "Why, because people used to bring gems and gold from there in the past?"

"That's the story at least..."

"There were never any miners around there to begin with. Only thieves..."

"Wait, so they were robbing the dragon's hoard...?"

"I'm afraid so."

"Respectless bastards..."

A tiny smile appeared on Siaril's lips. "Is it just me, or do actually like dragons quite a lot?"

"I always did..." I flinched when suddenly something dark jumped into my lap. It was Shia... she probably sneaked out upon hearing my voice as we walked through the village. I started stroking her absently. "It's just strange... somehow I got used to dragons being the stuff of legend, but recently..."

"Well, I think every legend has a tiny seed of truth in it, it's just enveloped in a fanciful and colorful shell."

"Maybe... anyway, can you actually read anything in that book?"

"Unfortunately, no... I looked through it though, and noticed something. Most of it is written in draconic, but at some point near the end, it switches to the language of the illathan."

The term sounded familiar. "Illathan? You mean the forest people?"

"You know about them?"

"I don't actually know much... just that they're a mixed race, born from elves and mages."

Siaril nodded. "Most of them live in the south, in the Silivren Forest. So I thought I would pay a visit and ask. And who knows, maybe that's where the third Disciple is too."

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"Where did that just come from?"

"If Yrvanyss was one of the Last Dragons and knew she was going to her certain end soon, since most of her kin already perished, it would make sense for her to start writing about the truth in a language her Disciple would understand..."

"Oh... yeah that does make sense."

Siaril smiled a little. "Just the huge amount that is written in that language kind of makes that theory unstable... It's like she knew what she had to do way before it all happened. Though... dragons were extremely intelligent, I dare to say, far more than humans. Their magic abilities supposedly gave some the power to see the future. For real, not just superficially..." he briefly glanced towards Tavris' house.

"That might've been the case... I mean, why else would they decide to choose us Disciples in the first place? They must have somehow known that all the hatred in Earlindon wouldn't stop with their death and that someone will have to put an end to it again, right?"

"Maybe... Ered, even if intoxicated with self-admiration and pride at his achievement, wouldn't have been able to go very far beyond that. Mages live longer than us, but they're not immortal. Still, he might have thought that if he was able to defeat such deadly beasts, then subordinating other races should be easy... Luckily, he wasn't able to accomplish much in the short time that was left to him in this world, but even so, the magic of the dragons endured, as if just in case... After Ered's passing there was a quite big void in the darkness of history, and his deeds almost blurred out completely with passing time. But finally, after a few decades, one of his descendants started to show similar ambitions..."

"You mean Sharish Caydranth..."

"Yes... I bet that while that 'prophet' was pulling his strings, he failed to mention that Sharish's target is us humans?"

Despite the newly found resistance to cold, a shiver ran through my body. "He did..."

"Judging by the fact that he wanted you at his side, I assume he will leave us Disciples out of it... but I doubt he will be so merciful with our families or anyone else we know..."

My fists clenched, eliciting a small, questioning purr from Shia. "Is he doing this because of the situation at the borders...?"

"Most likely. It's not exactly getting better there."

"If only I was still..." I quickly stopped myself from continuing out loud. He didn't have to know that it was possible for me to stop all this with one royal decree at the sacrifice of my freedom and probably my sanity. "Does that mean that, depending on the situation in Earlindon, the magic of the Last Dragons could have awakened in any of our ancestors? There were a few generations between Ered and Sharish."

"I assume so. It wouldn't make much sense otherwise."

"But what can we do to stop him? How are we supposed to face a powerful mage who could probably kill us with the flick of a finger? Even if we do have some magic on our own, I never sensed anything, and I most certainly have no idea how to use it."

"That's what we still need to learn. From what I know, the spectrum of our magic won't be very broad. I suspect we will be able to use minor amounts of magic in a general sense, but with major emphasis on one element: fire. No, no, you won't be breathing fire like the dragons did, don't worry," Siaril added upon seeing my face, clearly amused.

I couldn't help but answer with a pale smile. I was starting to like this strange outsider. There was something that struck me as odd about him though, but I was struggling to specify what...

"I think it will be mostly conjuring up fire 'from thin air', like mages do with these kind of things, and controlling any already existing fire," he continued. "Above that, their powers will extend our lives, and we should soon grow wings."

"Come again?" I almost dropped the crystal that I was rolling between my fingers.

"You will soon have black wings," Siaril repeated like it was something completely normal.

I nervously looked over my shoulder. "Is that... really necessary?"

Siaril shrugged slightly. "We can't influence it. Don't worry, you will be able to make them disappear at will."

"Oh... Wait, now that you mentioned it... I've been feeling occasional pain on my back recently, beneath my shoulder blades... is that why?"

"You have? That might mean it won't be long now."

"I'd rather they wait a bit though..." it was good to know the reason, because it might have freaked me out if they appeared before Siaril came and explained it to me. Actually, I probably would freak out anyway. "Do you have yours already?"

"Not yet."

"Then how can you know... how do you know about all this?"

This time, Siaril seemed to give his answer a bit more thought. "You see, I live not very far from here, with an acquaintance of mine. He's a mage, though young and inexperienced. He ran away because he was fed up with all the conflicts... He possesses vast knowledge of ancient times because he used to study in the academy in the north. He told me a lot about the Last Dragons and us Disciples... and promised to help us to the best of his abilities. And then there is the person who gave me my sirath... I can introduce you to him someday, if a chance arises. And if you choose to join, of course."

"I don't have much choice, do I?"

"You do. You could just ignore everything I told you and forget I've ever been here."

"There would be consequences if I did that..."

"There would..."

I gently clenched my fingers around the smooth surface of my sirath. Not once, during this whole conversation, did it emit even the slightest amount of warmth. But the chilling cold was pleasant, calming even... I finally found the explanation for so many things. Still... "Could you... give me some time? I need to think, and it's hard to do so after a sleepless night..."

"Of course. You've had a rough day, physically and mentally..."

"You've been watching me since shortly after I set off, didn't you? Why?"

"I wanted to make sure it's really you who I'm searching for, watch your behavior for a while. Besides, I knew the safety of that girl was far more important to you at that moment than anything I could have possibly said. If someone you care about so deeply is in danger, even the possibility of the rest of the world being destroyed becomes less important..."

"Am I really that easy to read...?"

"No, it's just..." Siaril turned his gaze away a little, "experience, you could say. Friends are like that... there is a connection between them that cannot be severed, if something happens to one, the rest of the world stops existing for the other..."

"It's amazing, isn't it? You have someone like that too?"

Siaril's voice dimmed down to an anguished whisper. "I had..."

I felt a sudden sting in my chest, both of guilt and compassion. It must have been an unmanageable pain... I didn't even want to think about what I would have done if Elithia... "I'm sorry..."

Siaril looked at me again, and changed the subject upon seeing my expression, as if feeling remorse for the discomfort he caused me. "Would you be fine with me returning in spring?"

"Eh?" I needed a second to get back into the moment.

"You said you needed time... and winter will make our lives complicated enough as it is. So how about I return for your answer in spring?"

"Are you sure we can afford to waste this much time?"

"If something alarming should start happening before that, I can always come by earlier."

"Right... you'll be staying with your..." I shoved the word 'friend' away from my tongue, "companion for the time being? How far is it from here?"

"About two days on foot."

"Will you be... of course you'll be fine, you came all the way here no problem, and you're resistant to cold..."

Siaril let out a tiny, amused huff. He then gently put one of his hands on mine, the one holding the crystal. "Whether you choose to come with me or not, keep it with you at all times and guard it as best you can," his voice became very firm. "It might save your life one day."

I nodded. "Does yours do the same as mine?"

"No. It warns me when someone or something intends to hurt me, attack me, name it as you will."

"Pretty useful..."

"Are you done now?"

We both turned to the source of the voice. Tavris stood a few meters away, a small bag swung over his shoulder. A bigger one was attached to the saddle of a horse he brought with him. I recognized one of the oldest ones, which our village didn't use for labor anymore and just kept them around so they could have a peaceful rest of their lives and entertain kids.

"I guess we are..." I sighed, shooing Shia away from my lap and getting up.

Siaril did the same and glanced at the 'prophet'. "I just thought about something... isn't Shinestone the city with the most mages in Earlindon? Maybe you'd prefer to hide there?"

"Right under Sharish's nose? Forget it."

Siaril just smiled a little and glanced towards east, where the orange glow was already spreading above the trees. Dawn was about to greet the village. "Your parents must be very worried, Sigrian... and you must be very tired." He gave me a small, warm smile. "Stay well."

"You too..."

I watched them go in silence, two men who brought so much chaos into my life, each in their own very different and very weird way. Before they reached the western tree line though, I remembered something.

"Tavris?" I called after him.

"What?" he looked over his shoulder grumpily. So different from the prophet I knew for years.

"There's still something..."

"You're the descendant of Sigriarian Embershade, a man who tried to reason with his comrades right before the battle against the Last Dragons. The only man... For that, he was executed later. But that was why Sariarin chose him... and the family he left behind..."

My ancestor... tried to protect dragons... "How do you know this...?" I rasped out.

"Because I had access to records only mages bothered to keep. You humans preferred to forget..."

Tavris put his hood on and soon disappeared among the pines along with Siaril.

The night was escaping into their shadows too, seeking shelter from the approaching day. For a while, I wondered if what I just saw and heard happened for real. I traced an edge of the sirath with my thumb... yeah, well... maybe it really did...

"We all seem to choose wrong paths sometimes..." I whispered to the changing sky.