Dawn broke as they neared the first village that Doomwing had visited. As always, his blood sang as the sun crested the horizon and began its ascent, its passage marked by rays of orange, pink, crimson, and gold. Long ago, when he had been a mere hatchling, curious but ignorant of the world and his place in it, he had asked Mother Tree how dragons were made. She had scratched his scales and stared off at a past that only a select few could remember.

"I was there when the first dragons were brought into the world. With fire and wind the Seven Gods made them. For their scales, they drew strength from the towering peaks of the world, the lonely mountains that stand unyielding in the face of time and wind and rain and sorrow. That is why your scales are strong, why you need no shelter to protect you, and why only the mightiest of weapons can do you harm. Their teeth and claws were made in the image of the spears and swords of the Seven Gods. That is why you need no weapons. Your teeth and claws are greater than any you might be given. For their wings, they called upon the sky and the boundless horizons no one may reach. That is why the skies welcome you, why no mortal creature can catch a dragon in full flight. And for their hearts, the Seven Gods took the fire of the sun and set it within their chests. That is why no dragon need fear the cold, why no dragon knows cowardice, and why no dragon will ever kneel."

Doomwing had been so very young then, and he had puffed out his chest and flared his wings. He had been proud to be a dragon, and he could not imagine a world where his kind did not fill the skies and soar unchallenged from horizon to horizon. And then the Broken God had come, and he had seen firsthand the day that all the might and splendour of the dragons had faltered. There had been so many of them, gleaming scales of every shade and colour, the beating of wings like a thousand storms rolling across the sky.

Only the oldest of them had stayed aloft in the face of the Broken God's wrath, and they had answered the laughter of the Broken God with roars of fury. They had died, all of them, those dragons who the Seven Gods had made with their own hands. But they had not died easily, and the rents in the corrupted god-metal of the Broken God's body had never healed, endless scars torn into his divine essence by those he considered beneath him. Dragons had not felled the Broken God, but the wounds they inflicted had shown he could be hurt, and what could be hurt could be killed.

Doomwing shook his head to clear away the memories. Now was not the time.

"Are we going to land at that village?" Antaria asked.

"No. But we will be landing nearby." Doomwing gestured with one claw at a place perhaps a mile and a half from the village. "There."

"Is there any particular reason?" Antaria was looking more than a bit bleary eyed. She was clearly not used to travelling for so long at such high speeds.

"Dryads require good soil and clean water to grow. However, to reach their full potential they require ready access to magic. That place is the intersection of several major currents of ambient magic. It is why the fields in this area are so fertile."

Daphne stirred. She had spent the past hour or so hunched over in a ball and refusing to even look at the ground. As a dragon, Doomwing found her reaction pathetic. However, she was a tree, and trees were not accustomed to flying. In his entire life, he had only known one dryad who had loved the skies, and she had perished at the end of the Third Age. It had been a good death, glorious and proud, worthy of even the greatest of dragons, flying headlong into the very teeth of the Third Catastrophe. But it was still a death, and he still missed her and the splendid city that had once soared through the clouds.

"So... we'll be landing soon?" Daphne smiled weakly as one of the raccoons hopped down to pat her on the head. The raccoons had actually been far more impressive. They seemed to find flight invigorating, and Doomwing was wondering what would happen if he gifted them with relics that allowed them to fly. If nothing else, it would be amusing.

"Yes. I will plant you once we land, and then we shall discuss my plans."

"Does that include your plans for me?" Antaria asked.

"Yes." Doomwing smiled toothily, and the princess quailed. "Fear not. You will not die if you can meet my expectations."

The princess blinked. "What... what if I can't meet your expectations?"

"Do your people still prefer to burn dead royalty upon funeral pyres, or do they bury them in the ground now?"

"..."

They landed soon afterward, and Doomwing motioned for Antaria and her unicorn to move aside as he dug his claws into the earth. He tore a great clod of soil up out of the ground and brought it to his face. It was good soil, rich in nutrients and magic. He let the soil tumble back to the ground and then used his magic to carve out a suitable hole to replant Daphne's tree.

"You've done this before," Daphne murmured.

"I helped kill Mother Tree, but I did not hate her. Many of her daughters required aid in the years that followed. Once I could be sure they had no intention of repeating her actions, I did what I could to help them." Doomwing lowered Daphne's tree into the spot he had prepared for her. "She helped care for me when I was a hatchling. I am not so ungrateful a wretch that I would forget that debt." He raised a claw and conjured water, infusing it with magic and allowing it to rain down on Daphne's tree and the soil around her. "How is it?"

The dryad's eyes were closed, and she gave a low hum of contentment. "The soil is much better here, and there is plenty of magic. That water was excellent too." Her gaze turned distant, and he could tell that she was reaching out for the currents of magic that flowed through the land, her roots eager and hungry. "The currents of magic are definitely impressive, but they seem..."

"Messy and clogged?" Doomwing chuckled. "That is to be expected."

Antaria walked over, and Swiftstride followed behind her. Doomwing would give the unicorn credit. He had been ready to use a spell to restore the unicorn's stamina, but the stallion had flown though the night without complaint. Now, his breathing was only just returning to normal, and sweat shone upon his skin. The gleaming white of his horn had dulled, but it would regain its lustre with some rest.

"Could you explain more about the currents of magic?" The princess made a face. "Um... I know what they are, but you must know more about them than me."

"Not bad. You are at least willing to admit your own ignorance."

"Hey!" Antaria scowled. "Please, don't call me stupid."

"I did not call you stupid. I called you ignorant." Doomwing snorted. "Ignorance is caused by a lack of knowledge and can be remedied by providing that knowledge. Stupidity, however, is caused by a lack of intelligence and is far more difficult to fix."

"Oh." Antaria blinked. "Um, thanks, then... maybe?"

"It was both a compliment and an insult." Doomwing ignored her spluttering and began his explanation. "The currents of magic that flow through the land are caused by a variety of different factors. Those are not important right now. What is important is that you can think of these currents as being similar to the arteries and veins of a body. And just like arteries and veins, they can grow clogged and dirty. When that happens, both the quantity and quality of magic that can be drawn from them is reduced. You, princess, have probably not noticed this because humans are generally unable to absorb magic from their surroundings without training. However, dryads are different. They must absorb magic from their surroundings to grow."

"Wait... are you saying that I could absorb magic from my surroundings if I had training?" Antaria asked.

"Well spotted. Yes, but we will get to that later. As it is, there is more than enough magic here for Daphne to grow, and she possesses sufficient skill and power to purify it to her standards. However, she will grow faster, thereby increasing my tribute more swiftly, if she has access to larger quantities of purer magic. That is why I will be returning to my volcano shortly. I will begin cleansing the currents of magic starting from my lair and then working through my territory until I reach this area. This should, if my estimations are correct, more than triple her rate of growth. It will likely take me a few weeks."

"You can do that?" Daphne asked. "I could purify the currents around me, but my range would be limited to a few miles at most. It would also take me years."

"Why do you think so many people have called them dragon lines throughout history? Dragons are extremely adept not only at absorbing magic from their surroundings but also at influencing the magic in their surroundings. I am a primordial dragon. My lesser kin could never hope to accomplish in centuries what I can do in weeks."

"Oh. Thank you." Daphne bowed. "It means a lot."

Doomwing leaned over and turned his head, so he could stare into her eyes. "I am doing a great deal for you, dryad. I expect great things in return."

"Eep." Daphne squeaked. "I'll do my best."

"See that you do. I will also try to find tree-folk to act as your guardians." Doomwing grumbled. "I don't know where any are, but I can probably ask Marcus... he probably knows. And if not, I can use the mirror. It'll be a hassle, but I should be able to find some... never mind." He straightened. "In the meantime, I will ensure that you are properly defended."

He tossed a dozen greater runes of protection at Daphne.

"There. There is now absolutely nothing in my territory other than me that can harm you. And if anything strong enough comes, I should be able to sense it and respond in time."

"You just used a dozen greater runes..." Daphne swallowed thickly. "It was a struggle for me to maintain two to keep the blight away and keep my animal friends fed."

"I would have used ancient runes, but as you are now, being in their presence for extended periods of time would have done permanent damage to you." Doomwing turned his attention to Antaria. "And as for you..."

"As for me?" The princess fidgeted. She was so worried about him that she barely seemed to notice the enterprising squirrel that had climbed onto her and was rummaging through her pockets in search of food. Almost without thinking, she reached down and pulled the squirrel away before tossing the rodent back to Daphne who was splitting her attention between basking in her improved living conditions and worrying at his expectations.

"The three great enemies of a ruler are weakness, ignorance, and naivety. There are others of course, but those three have, from my observation, been responsible for the downfall of many rulers. As of now, princess, you are weak and ignorant. As for your naivety? Well, we shall see about that soon enough. Fortunately, there is an easy cure for your problems. Strength and knowledge."

Antaria nodded. "I see. So you will be training me to acquire strength and knowledge."

"You will need both not only to survive but also to administer my lands as effectively as possible." Doomwing reached out with his magic. He ripped another clod of dirt out of the ground and imbued it with a small fraction of his power. The dirt quivered and then began to change, giving way to red and blue scales and wings that were slightly too large compared to the rest of the body. "Since I will be going to my volcano to begin altering the currents of magic, I will be leaving behind a shard of my power to conduct your education."

Antaria said nothing for a moment before jabbing one finger at the draconic construct he'd made. "What is that? It's... it's adorable! Look at how stubby the tail is, and the wings are too big! And look at that face! It's not scary like yours!"

Doomwing gave a low rumble. "Since you are a but a hatchling about to begin proper training, I thought it fitting that the shard I left behind take on the form I had when I was but a hatchling. But do not underestimate it. Even the sliver of my power that animates it would be sufficient to crush your kingdom."

The little dragon shook itself, and Doomwing was once again greeted by the familiar but vaguely annoying sensation of being in two bodies at once. He'd gotten up to a lot of mischief after first learning this ability although it wasn't really as useful in battle as it might seem. The absolute focus and concentration required to use ancient runes and the most powerful magics meant that splitting his consciousness between multiple bodies was usually a terrible idea.

"I will be in charge of your training," the little dragon said, and Antaria jerked back, perhaps startled at his deep, earth-shaking voice coming out of a construct that was only twelve feet long. "Do not think I shall go easy on you. If anything, this makes it easier for me to be hard on you since I do not have to worry about accidentally crushing you by stepping on you."

Antaria gulped. "So when will my training begin?"

Doomwing took to the air. "I will return once I have dealt with the currents of magic."

"As for your training," the construct said. "It begins now!"

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

Antaria had endured what she believed to be gruelling training since she'd been a little girl. She was a princess, so she had access to the kingdom's finest warriors and mages to tutor her. However, she was only now realising that their training had not been nearly brutal enough.

The dragon construct had broken her sword with a single stout bite within the first ten seconds of the fight starting. It had broken her arm a moment later, and she had used what little healing magic she knew in a desperate attempt to make the limb useable again. The construct had apparently taken that personally, and it had spent the past ten minutes pummelling her without mercy. She was fairly sure one of her legs was broken, and if she didn't have at least a few broken ribs, she would be shocked.

Daphne was watching the entire thing in silent horror but had made no move to intervene, perhaps worried that she might have to join in as well. Her animal friends, though, were cheering Antaria on although she had a sneaking suspicion that the squirrels were using nuts to bet on how much longer she would last. Those little bastards...

A final blow thumped into her, and she had a wonderful view of the sky before gravity decided to reintroduce itself and she landed in a broken heap.

"Hmmm..." Doomwing's voice came through the construct, utterly at odds with its adorable appearance. No. It wasn't adorable anymore. It was all a lie, a way of tricking her into thinking the construct was harmless, so it could mangle her. "You aren't completely hopeless. I was expecting you to plead for mercy several minutes ago."

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Antaria glared at him balefully. "Would you have given it?"

"No. But the fact you didn't ask speaks well of you." The construct padded over and gave her a poke in the stomach with its stubby tail. "Even so, I have learned a lot from this fight. You take after your ancestor in some important ways."

"I do?" Antaria tried to sit up and then thought better of it. "How?"

"Elerion was actually quite bad at magic," Doomwing said. "In fact, he really only excelled at one type of magic."

"Attack magic?" Antaria really hoped it was attack magic. The idea of throwing lightning or heaving fire at her enemies was certainly tempting, and if she happened to blow this construct into powder that was simply a coincidence.

"No. He was awful at attack magic to the point I thought he was pretending to be that bad since I had a hard time believing anyone could be so hopeless at it." Doomwing chuckled. "The magic he excelled at was what many termed enhancement or amplification magic. In essence, he took the innate qualities of things and enhanced or amplified them."

"That sounds... interesting."

She must not have done a good job of hiding her dismay because Doomwing laughed. "In many ways, it is quite boring. He could barely muster a fireball, and throwing lightning was more likely to make his opponents hair stick up than actually electrocute them. But he could make himself orders of magnitude stronger and faster than a normal man, and he could take a blade of steel and carve through solid rock like it was paper."

Antaria's eyes widened. "That doesn't sound too bad, actually." She paused. "And it might explain why I've struggled to learn any attack magic but have always been okay with the spells for hastening movement and boosting strength."

"Those spells are pathetic. I will be teaching you better spells along with whatever runes you can learn."

This time, Antaria did sit up. "Runes? Like what you used on Daphne?"

"No. You lack the power to use even a single one of those runes. But even the least of runes will still be more effective than whatever magic you already know." Doomwing's construct leaned over and nudged her with its head. "But we have a lot of work to do first, particularly with regards to your magical reserves."

"I think I have decently large magical reserves," Antaria replied. "My tutors always said so."

"Your tutors knew nothing." Doomwing had the construct jab her in the stomach with its claw. Thankfully, it was the blunt side of the claw, or her guts would have spilled onto the ground. "Hmm... you're tolerating the pain from your broken bones quite well."

Antaria made a face. She had been doing her very best to keep movement to a minimum until sitting up. Now, though, she was starting to get woozy. "If you could at least help me with that..."

Magic washed over her. However, instead of being fully healed, her body was instead filled with a series of aches and pains, albeit less severe than they had been.

"Your body will not improve if I heal you completely," Doomwing said. "Leaving a certain portion of your injuries intact will help you grow stronger and push your body to adapt. Surely, you are familiar with using magic to strengthen your body. Doing that while you are injured will push your body to strengthen itself."

Antaria remained silent. She had heard of the technique, and she could even use it a bit, but what he had described didn't seem to match her experience.

The flat stare of the construct was telling. "Show me your version of the technique." She did, and the construct somehow managed to snort. "No wonder you're so weak. What you are doing is incorrect. Simply surging magic into the part of your body you want to strengthen is a good way to rupture your organs and ruin the channels that carry magic through your body. It is, admittedly, easier to do and reasonably effective at lower levels, but it is not what you will be doing from now on."

Antaria squeaked as raw power flooded through her veins. She was vaguely aware of a dull roar filling her ears and her vision tunnelling and then going white before awareness returned, and she felt currents of power flowing back and forth through her body.

"There," Doomwing said. "Can you feel that?"

She nodded slowly. "I... I can."

"Grasp that feeling. Carve it into your memory." That torrent of power that had overwhelmed her was gentler now, moving her own magic back and forth through her body in rhythmic cycles. "Keep your attention on that feeling." Slowly, the power withdrew, and her magic began to fall still. "Do not let your magic stop moving. Copy what you felt before. Circulate your magic through your body."

Antaria didn't bother to question him. Instead, she grasped onto the reins of her magic and began to push it around as best she could. It was hard - like trying to wade through mud - and the motion felt so clumsy and weak compared to what she'd experienced, but her magic began to move, awkwardly mirroring what she'd felt before. "What... what did you do to me?"

"For those who have never circulated their magic before, the very idea of it can seem foreign. However, it is something that naturally occurs for creatures like dragons and dryads who frequently absorb magic from their surroundings. Humans, though, are adaptable creatures. Once you are shown how to do it, the more talented amongst you can manage to do it on their own. Congratulations." Doomwing's voice was dry. "You are not completely hopeless."

"What... what does this do?" Antaria asked. "It feels... good." And it did. The aches and pains in her body were being soothed, and her mind no longer felt dull and fuzzy.

"Circulating your magic in this manner serves several purposes. The most immediate purpose is that it quickens healing while promoting growth and development. This will allow you to handle training that would kill normal people."

"What... what if I hadn't been able to do it?" Antaria asked although she had a sneaking suspicion of what he would say.

"It is fortunate that you were able to learn it so quickly." Doomwing's construct paced around her in a slow circle. "The second reason is going to become apparent right about... now."

Antaria gasped and then paled as a wave of exhaustion swept over her. She was suddenly cold, and her limbs began to tremble. "What's happening?"

"Magical exhaustion. When you circulate your magic like this, it is consumed to heal your injuries, improve your body, and so on. Because your reserves of magic are so small, it's hardly surprising that you've already exhausted them." The construct shrugged. "Of course, magical exhaustion of this level is several times worse than regular magical exhaustion, so you will likely fall into a coma or die in the next ten minutes."

"What?" Antaria shrieked. "Magical exhaustion isn't supposed to do that!"

"Magical exhaustion caused by spell usage usually occurs before your reserves can truly run dry. Circulating your magic allows you to completely empty them if you're not careful."

"Why... why didn't you warn me?" Antaria was seeing double now, and she was vaguely aware of several squirrels exchanging nuts.

"Because Elerion always learnt best when he was on the verge of death, and I want to see if you are the same." Doomwing chortled. "And because when your reserves are almost completely empty, it becomes easier for you to feel and absorb the magic around you."

"What?"

"Humans do not naturally absorb significant quantities of magic from their surroundings. It's just how you are. But they can learn to do that. What you need to do is to reach out with your senses. Focus on feeling the magic around you. You're probably feeling cold right now. Ambient magic will feel warm. You need to focus on that warmth. Imagine it flowing into you. Think of sitting in front of a camp fire and warming your hands. Imagine that heat and energy filling you like water emptying from a jug into your cup."

Antaria tried to do what he said. She really did. But she couldn't feel anything except the cold. She was shivering now, and she was certain her lips were blue. A few of the raccoons looked like they wanted to help her, but the construct stretched one wing out to bar their path.

"Do not interfere," Doomwing said. "And do not say a word, Daphne. I have told her enough. If she cannot grasp it now, then she may never be able to do so. This is not something to be thought about and intellectualised. It is to be experience and felt."

Antaria fell onto her back. The edges of her vision began to darken. She tried to get up, but her limbs refused to obey. She felt heavy and light at the same time. Was she dying?

"Open your mind," Doomwing's voice seemed to come from far away. "Stop trying to see the world with your pitiful human eyes. Magic does not come from flesh and bone. It comes from the soul, and it is with your soul that you must feel the world around you."

Her soul? Antaria became aware of something inside herself, a small, flickering, faltering light. It was like a candle in the long and hungry dark, but it was her candle, her light. Her eyes were closed, but she saw it clearly. And then, as the darkness closed in on her, she saw more candles in the dark. One by one they appeared, so faint she was only sure they existed because of the absolute darkness that surrounded them. But then she saw another light, brighter, not a candle but a campfire. Were these souls? Who did they belong to? What was... her attention went north, and there she saw a star, blinding and bright.

And then, from the darkness, came rivers of light and flame, currents of power born of the land and all the things above, below, and within it. Several of those rivers intersected beneath her, and a shimmering mist of magic rose up. She reached for it desperately, greedily, clawing at it with frantic hands and trying to inhale it with deep breaths.

So much of it escaped her. So much of it simply passed through her. But she caught some of it, and it flowed into her, rushing through her body in burning rivers of power that turned her veins to fire and threatened to set her soul ablaze.

"Circulate it through your body," Doomwing growled. "You must circulate it through your body to purify it before absorbing it into your reserves. Otherwise, you will injure yourself."

"It hurts..." Antaria said. "It burns."

"You can hurt and burn, or you can embrace the cold of death. Those are your choices."

So Antaria burned, and she circulated the magic she'd pulled from her surroundings through her body as best she could. Gradually, ever so gradually, it changed, and after a while, it settled deep inside her, flowing into the pool of power she recognised as the source of her magic. The pool was all but empty, but it filled rapidly until she felt a stretching sensation, like a muscle being pulled taut.

"Enough," Doomwing said. "Stop absorbing magic. Now."

Antaria cut off her connection to the magic around her. If anything, it was easier to cut it off than to absorb it. Then she opened her eyes. Daphne was wringing her hands nearby, a healing spell flickering in and out of existence. Doomwing's construct simply stared down at her.

"Acceptable," he said.

Antaria made a choking sound and did the first thing that came to mind. She kicked the construct in the side with all the strength that could muster.

"Ah!" Antaria wailed. "My leg."

"Congratulations," Doomwing drawled. "You broke your leg. Let this be a lesson to you. Always determine the durability of your foe before kicking them." The construct took a step back, and healing magic washed over the broken limb. "In recognition of your efforts, I will heal your injury instead of making you fix it yourself."

"How kind," Antaria said.

"I am known as a generous soul," Doomwing replied. "Now, tell me, do you sense any changes in the size of your magical reserves?"

Antaria peered back inside herself and gasped. "They're... they're bigger!"

"Yes. This is the other reason that you must learn how to circulate magic and how to absorb it from your surroundings. Humans can produce magic naturally. This magic exerts a sort of 'pressure' on their reserves, expanding them over time. However, humans actually have reserves that are quite flexible. Pressure that would cause an elf's magical reserves to explode and kill them will not kill a human. Instead, a human's reserves will grow in response to that pressure."

"But then... how do elves have so much more magic than humans?" Antaria asked.

"Elves live far longer than humans, so even if their reserves grow more slowly, they can eventually grow much larger. Humans can, with the right training, increase their reserves quite rapidly in comparison to other species although, by the time they reach their peak, they will generally have smaller reserves than the strongest elves. But there are exceptions. Elerion's reserves of magic were enormous even by elven standards, which allowed him to do things with his magic and runes that other humans could only have dreamed of."

"Then all of this training..."

"We will grow your reserves of magic. That in turn will allow us to push your physical training to inhuman levels while also allowing you to perform increasingly powerful magic." Doomwing gave rumble of amusement. "It will, of course, be agonising, and the pain you have experienced today will be nothing compared to the agony you will feel while learning more advanced techniques." He paused. "Knowing that, do you wish to quit? This is your one and only chance."

Antaria got to her feet and then raised her foot to kick the construct again before thinking better off it. Instead, she waved her hand at Daphne, and the dryad handed her a tree branch. Taking the branch she brought it down on the construct with all the strength she could muster.

"What makes you think I'm going to quit!"

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

Doomwing bit back a smile as he continued his journey northward back to his volcano. Antaria was doing her best to pummel his construct with a tree branch and her newly enhanced strength and was accomplishing absolutely nothing.

Even so, he wasn't disappointed.

She was actually doing slightly better than Elerion. The boy - and he had been a boy at the time - had kicked him again when Doomwing had asked that question, and all he'd done was break his leg for the third time in a single afternoon. The look in Antaria's eyes right now was exactly the same as the one that had been in Elerion's. It hadn't been about learning or honour or anything like that. No. They had both wanted to keep going just so they could spite him.

Perfect.