It didn't take Yasenka long to recover fully, and despite Light's persuasions to take it easy, we started preparations for the trip. This time Yasenka decided to not take Ertralia with us. It was simply too dangerous, given the fact that Sharish was looking for the shards of the Sunrise as well. A meeting with him was just too risky. And way too likely. Luckily, Light offered to take good care of her, and the young sykerien decided to not complain too much this time. We ate one last breakfast together, said our goodbyes and set off. Siaril, who had studied the map of Earlindon as carefully as possible in the past few days to take us down a path that would be both comfortable and free of unwanted stares, lead us south-east.

Our first stop was my home village. It wasn't a long one this time though. Only a quick update to my family, some hugs, Shia's purring and a detailed description of the real Calthraval from Kristya. I managed to repel the offers of provisions for our journey thanks to my haversack being filled with the ones that Light refused to let us go without.

Next, we changed our course from east to south-east.

And that was where it became difficult...

After just a few minutes of flight, we noticed blurry, slender ribbons of black smoke rising from the ground not far ahead...

"What is that place?" Yasenka squinted a bit.

I suddenly felt an unpleasant chill. I knew what it was... near the river, at the border of the forest...

"It's Ioreth..." I whispered.

"Sorry?"

"That's Ioreth!" without thinking much, I sped up and darted towards the capital.

"Sigrian wait!" I heard Siaril's shout behind me.

But I wasn't listening. I had a bad feeling. I dropped lower so the tree crowns could conceal me, made a wide bow around the royal castle, and when the city came to view entirely, I stopped, feeling the blood drain from my face.

Ashes... ashes as far as the eye could see... smoldering rubble, barely a sign of the buildings they once were, no sign of humans who lived in them... Fire was still flickering here and there, reflecting off of fragments of windows that had the luck to survive partially. When the movement of air flattened the flames, they reflected the ruins nearby, the incinerated trunks of fruit trees and the azure of the sky above...

I slowly let myself sink to the smoldering remains, feeling faint. The whole, enormous city... the capital of our land which I witnessed so lively, colorful and loud not so long ago... now reduced to debris... and only the toppled, shattered sun dial which once adorned the middle of the plaza was now trying to stop the time...

I felt the air move with the rhythm of another two pairs of wings landing next to me.

"What in the world happened here...?" whispered Yasenka, looking around in terror.

"Whatever it was, it didn't happen today or yesterday," Siaril kneeled down and examined the ash-covered dirt. "It must have been a really enormous conflagration..."

I remembered something. The royal castle... without a word, I ascended into the air again and looked to the north. I didn't pay attention when I was dashing for the city, but now it was clear even from the distance... The structure was still mostly standing, but I could see the dents, the toppled tower... and yet...

"That wasn't just simple conflagration..." I muttered when my companions caught up with me once more. "Have you ever seen a fire that destroyed a whole city and a castle, without touching a single leaf of the forest or the fields separating them...?"

"What are you getting at?" Siaril's tone gave it away. He already knew what I meant.

"Sharish..." Yasenka's silent whisper was almost a hateful hiss.

I sighed heavily and dropped towards the castle, wanting to check if we would be able to find any clues that would confirm this theory. I landed in the middle of the royal garden's remnants. The ground was grayish, the surrounding forest silent, only the nettles at its border emitting a sharp scent. A big part of the free space was covered with elongated mounds of soil...

"Are those... graves?" Yasenka asked almost inaudibly.

"It looks like it. I bet this is just a small part of the victims though... Most of them must have found their tombs underneath the ruins..."

"But if some were buried afterwards, that must mean that someone survived. But where did they go...?"

Yasenka carefully walked a few steps, examining the ground, the tree trunks and finally the boulders that were once the walls of the castle. "Twenty... maybe thirty people. They were here about a week ago..."

"A week?" I raised my eyebrows. "But the fire..."

"It was partially caused by magic. That's why there's still glow here and there. Which all the more convinces me that this was all Sharish's doing..."

"How can you tell all of this?"

She gave me a sad smile. "The dirt is not a book, but you can still read a lot from it, if you know its language."

"I see..."

"Wherever these unfortunate souls have gone too, may stars shine at the end of their way..." embitterment was clearly audible in Siaril's voice. "Let's go. There's nothing left for us to do here anymore..."

"Except getting in trouble. Who knows if there are still some ansirths nearby..."

I involuntarily glanced around, just in case Yasenka was right. Luckily, I didn't spot any golden nor crimson scales moving around... I did spot something else though, and my body almost froze when I realized what I was looking at.

The first thing that caught my eye was the thinnest strand of smoke, because it was moving in the delicate breeze. But there was something unmoving next to it, melting in with the singed bushes and the wall surrounding the gardens...

A figure kneeling next to one of the graves, clad in a dark cloak, the hood hiding the features. A stick of incense was stuck into the dried soil before it next to some flowers, the leather case at its side betraying a lute...

"You..." I whispered, attracting the attention of my friends. Siaril immediately reached for his sword.

The bard stayed still for a few more moments, as if casually continuing his soundless prayer above the grave despite the disturbance. He then got up slowly. He made no sound.

"I think it's about time we talked..." I said, taking a step forward. "Who are you?"

There was no answer. I could tell he was looking right at me despite the hood casting a deep shadow on his face, but it was as if he didn't even hear my question.

"Fine... then how about this: were you the one who attacked Siaril at the Apries Lake?"

This time, the figure nodded. Just in case, I held my hand up a little, silently telling Siaril to not act just yet.

"And... were you also the one who saved me and Kristya from Tavris in the king's chambers?"

Another nod.

But wasn't that contradictory...?

Protecting one Disciple but trying to get rid of another? Was this something personal, and not connected to the Last Dragons...?

"You're not working with Sharish, are you...?"

This time, the figure gently shook its head.

"I don't get it... then what is it you're trying to do...?"

The stranger looked away, glancing first to his right, then left, at the graves covering the once beautiful gardens, making me involuntarily follow his gaze. He then spread his arms just a little, as if trying to tell me that what lie around us was the obvious answer to my question. A delicate breeze picked up, carrying the scent of the incense our way...

... along with the softest of whispers: "Stopping all this..."

The next moment, the gentle gust took the man with it as well, or so it seemed when he vanished yet again, leaving us and our tangled thoughts behind...

I don't know how long we stood there motionless before Yasenka found her voice again: "Was that some kind of specter...?"

"I don't think so. But... I think I can say one thing for sure. The guy that smelled of incense and the bard were never two separate people..."

"That's good, isn't it? It means we have one problem and not two."

I managed a small smile. "Your optimism never ceases to amaze me."

"Wait," Yasenka suddenly perked up. "Could that have been... Sharish's brother?"

"No way."

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

I gave Siaril an unsure look. "Why not? It would kind of explain why he was whispering, Yasenka heard his voice before, right?"

The illathan nodded.

"No, I mean..." Siaril hesitated, seeming to struggle for words. "I was just surprised... Nevertheless, I don't think that could be him. If he's against Sharish and actually on our side, why would he have attacked me?"

"I guess you have a point..." I glanced at the incense the stranger left behind. If he honored the dead, then it was rather unlikely he was responsible, right...? Was he just a witness? Or just stumbled upon the wreckage like we did...?

"Come on..." I felt Yasenka gently tug at my sleeve. "We should keep going. Maybe we can find the survivors and learn more on the way..."

I nodded absently and cast one last, melancholic glance towards my favorite old willow. Even she seemed to be distressed by what she had witnessed here. The wind moved the delicate twigs, eliciting a soft rustle that sounded like a lullaby for the dead...

I only just realized that the flowers that lay on some of the graves were zinnias, the symbol of remembrance... There was a sudden sting at my eyes. It wasn't really me who knew them all, it was the prince they thought I was... and yet...

I turned my gaze away and followed my friends hastily.

We stayed quiet for a big part of that day. Siaril and Yasenka must have been struggling to throw the image of Ioreth out of their heads just like I was. It was hard to comprehend this level of cruelty... On the other hand, we didn't yet know what we would need to do to Sharish in order to stop him. Who knows, maybe we would have to be equally ruthless... I shook my head slightly, responded to Siaril's concerned glance with a reassuring smile and dipped my wing a bit to fly closer to him.

Once at the sea, we changed direction slightly and continued straight towards east. The beautiful landscapes that Earlindon started to reveal before our eyes caused the atmosphere to ease bit by bit. Gentle hills spread below, followed by meadows covered in countless wild flowers, among which dominated heather, early blooming and fragile as glass. Medicinal herbs were gaining strength in the warm sun rays at the borders of small tree clusters, the air a bit cooler and more aromatic compared to inland.

Near the water the terrain sunk towards golden seaside dunes. The infinite surface of the sea reflected the even more infinite sky, though it was most impressive at night. The hum of waves didn't entirely reach to higher altitudes, and when we allowed ourselves to fly out farther above the waters after sunset, we had the feeling of being suspended between two night skies. Even the dunes, bathed in the silvery light of the moon, resembled the brighter band of stars that could sometimes be seen in the sky.

On the third day of our journey the air became slightly cooler and a wind picked up, with occasional drizzle coming from the thin clouds. It cleared up in the evening though, a beautiful, summer night approaching. And with it came the first view of a big city in the distance.

Upon noticing it, me and Yasenka stopped the silly game of tag in the air, which was the result of being bored by the unproductive watching of Earlindon's fairytale-like landscapes. We followed Siaril who ascended a bit higher so that no accidental stare could spot us in the sky.

From above, Tacritia resembled something like an irregular chess board made of darker and brighter roofs of buildings. There was one structure much larger than the others in the eastern part of the city, more vivid and slender. Its spire was casting a long, already faint shadow parallel to the seashore. One weird feature to it was a tiny stream that seemingly flowed out from underneath the building itself... it wandered through the middle of a broad alley towards the city walls and to the river that embraced the settlement with its azure waters at the western side. That river connected with the sea in a small port that was set slightly aside from the city. Anchored boats rocked on the small waves, their masts glittering with the gold of the fading sun. Even the small promenade presented itself beautifully, the pillars supporting it forming a picturesque colonnade along the shore. All of it, adorned with green lawns and bushes of elderberry, emanated silent tranquility of a city preparing to sleep.

"That bigger building seems to be something like a temple," muttered Yasenka.

"I think it is. As far as I know, they worship the sea god Siracel here," Siaril proved to be a walking library once more.

"I'm not sure, but for some reason this doesn't look like a place where people fish out pearls..."

"We won't know for sure as long as we're hanging here like that. Come on, let's take a closer look."

I hesitated. "Go... I'll wait here," I tried to not sound morose, but it didn't quite work.

My friends gave me confused looks. "Why would we..." started Yasenka, but I cut her off.

"I can't just parade in there with my wings like that. You can hide them, so go."

"And what will you do in the meantime?" Siaril seemed unsure about leaving me alone.

"I don't know... I'll probably just hide somewhere nearby and wait. And rest too, I'm tired."

Yasenka nodded reluctantly. "We'll just try to get some basic information today. We'll spend the night in the open and think further tomorrow. Can you find some place for a camp?"

I nodded and watched my friends fall towards the ground for a bit. They landed behind the fields of wheat calcinating in the last sun rays along the riverbank north from the city. They hid their wings and made their way to the gate. For a while, I watched their tiny silhouettes meandering between the buildings in the direction of the presumed temple. Only when they disappeared in the shadow of it, I tore my eyes away and looked around.

Near to the spot where Siaril and Yasenka landed, there was a small cluster of trees on a tiny, irregularly shaped hill. Its slope was gentle only on the side that faced the sea. It seemed perfect for hiding and watching the gates in peace. I lazily landed on one of the trees, letting the lush foliage shield me with the welcoming smell of aquilarias. Making myself comfortable on one of the more solid branches, I relaxed my tired wings and started supper without tearing my eyes away from the city.

The night was beautiful, warm and incredibly silent. The walls of the city soon got enveloped by a low mist coming from the meadows. When the darkness has become whole, and the only thing I saw were the blurry lights of torches illuminating the city's streets, two silhouettes appeared in the gate. I left my hideout, and once they ventured outside far enough, I joined them.

"There you are," Yasenka seemed relieved. She was probably worried that they would have to look for me in the darkness. She carried some kind of long cloth hanging on her left shoulder, which she partially held in her hands so that it wouldn't drag on the ground after her.

"Did you manage to learn something?" I asked.

"It turned out the priests in the temple know the overall situation quite well," explained Siaril. "We can ask them about details tomorrow... we didn't want them to waste their effort on telling everything to just two of us."

"But how am I supposed to get in there?"

"Through the front gate, with style," laughed Yasenka. "In an hour or two, when most of the residents will be sleeping, we can return to the temple together."

"And what if not everyone will be lying in their beds and someone sees me? Not like it would result in some tragedy, but people tend to react in various ways..."

"That's why we got this," Yasenka let the fabric slide from her shoulder and handed it to me. "You'll still look a little strange, but you won't be standing out that much. And shouldn't raise any alarms."

"Fine..."

We sat at the border of the tree cluster and waited for Tacritia's lights to die out.

When the night finally matured and the moon leaned out from behind the cloudlets sailing in the south-east, the mist wafting on the foregrounds of the city gave us a silvery, shimmering signal. I threw the 'cloak' over myself and after Yasenka helped me drape it neatly on my wings, we headed towards the gate.

Just a few dozen meters away from it, I cast Siaril an unsure glance.

"Don't worry about the guards," he whispered soothingly even before I could open my mouth. "The priests said they would send someone who will tell them to let us in."

I just nodded.

Indeed, as we approached the gateway, a young man suddenly appeared in it. He wore a delicate, sky-blue vesture with pearl-white adornments. "Come this way, please," he said as we approached. His voice was soft, as was the gaze of his bright eyes.

The guards let us pass without a word, as if they didn't even notice us. People connected to the temple must have had quite some influence on the citizen...

We went down the main street until it met the avenue with the small stream that we saw from above. It was reflecting the sparkle of the stars, flowing in a shallow channel made of neatly laid, nearly white stones, the banks planted with aromatic juniper. The path was full of shadows, dispersed only by occasional torches placed in regular intervals at the openings of back alleys and casting hazy, orange circles of light. The temple at the end was still clearly visible, its facade so bright that on the background of the grey city walls and black night, it almost hurt the eyes. The entrance was guarded by two statues of the half-naked, shapely sea god.

I had to suddenly tear my eyes away from the majestic building when the short silhouette of an elderly man emerged from one of the narrow side streets. I pressed my wings tighter to my body, checking if the cloth covered me properly.

"Don't worry," I heard Siaril's whisper. "You said yourself that no tragedy would result from it."

I would gladly have taken those words back if I knew beforehand what happened the next moment.

When we walked past the unfortunate passerby, trying our best to not stand out too much, the old man suddenly turned around to look at us again and we heard his silent, trembling voice: "Young master Calthraval...?"

I stopped without really knowing what I was doing. For a second, everything went dark before my eyes. This just couldn't be happening... I knew that voice... the memory was distorted and hazy, but I knew it. So this is where they fled...

I inwardly cursed Yisral for taking me to Ioreth back then. For making me meet the mayor...

And cursed Sharish twice for making the mayor flee all the way here...

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Yasenka turning to face the man, probably already preparing some excuses... but I quickly realized it could backfire quite badly. I pulled the hood further over my face, grabbed her sleeve and yanked softly, forcing her to keep going. She obliged without a word. Siaril followed. The young priest didn't say a word.

Only after we found shelter in the cool walls of the temple, his unusual, amber eyes turned to us in a silent question.

He looked ready to let it go if I decided to ignore it, so instead of answering, I asked my own: "Did... did any news about the events in the capital reach Tacritia recently?"

"Unfortunately, yes..." the priest's expression darkened with sadness. "Some of Ioreth's citizen managed to escape the tragedy. They arrived just yesterday, seeking help and shelter..."

"Please don't wear our guests out with this sad story at this hour, dear Casais," we suddenly heard a calm, low voice.

A tall man with grey hair tied in a lax ponytail emerged from the dark interior of the temple. Judging by his richly ornamented gown, intimidating presence and revered, but gentle gaze, he had to be the archpriest. There was an amulet shaped like a droplet of water hanging on his neck, made of thin, blue glass. "I'm sure they are tired, let's allow them to rest first," he smiled at the young priest softly. "It is late, you should also retire for the night."

Casais bowed. "Of course, master Lythar..." He wished us a good night and soon disappeared in one of the dark hallways.

"Please forgive him..." the archpriest spoke again. "Allow me to show you to our modest rooms. I will answer all of your questions tomorrow, when we all will be at our best strength."

"Very well, but... Sig..." Yasenka glanced at me.

"Our host is right," I interrupted her quietly, wanting to avoid this topic for now. "We should get some sleep first."

Her quietest, most soothing 'Sorry' reached only my ears.

I didn't sleep much that night. I spent most of it lying on the bed in a small room, looking at the sky-blue ceiling. I didn't expect things to take this kind of turn... the survivors from Ioreth seeking shelter right here, in Tacritia, one of them recognizing me after all this time...

What if the mayor tells other people from the capital about what he saw...? Worse, if that information spreads across the whole City of Pearls... what then? If they would assume they've found the lost son of the king who I never was... I couldn't just take the throne of Earlindon, I couldn't even imagine doing that... and I didn't even want to think about their reaction if they found out I'm the Disciple of Sariarin the Black Dragon...

Theoretically, I could just stay in the temple from now on and sneak out with Siaril and Yasenka as soon as we fetch the shard or any information about its whereabouts... Or I could just tell them the whole truth... but what would they do if they found out they were stringed along by the 'royal family' for two whole years...?

I sighed so heavily I got worried Siaril could have heard it in his room across the hallway and shielded myself from the light of the moon with one wing. The gentle breeze that tasted like sea water was sneaking inside through the window, along with the silent whisper of the brook flowing out of the temple. Somewhere in the dark of the night a horse snorted shortly, probably making the sleep of a stable boy lighter for a brief moment. Minutes passed and I finally decided to stop worrying for now and prepare to accept whatever may come...