It was with some genuine surprise that Valen found himself slowly opening his eyes again. He wondered for a moment if he was dead, and this was what the afterlife looked like, all marble and steel, with hints of iron running through them both.

Then he felt the pain in his body and knew that he was not dead. He almost wished he was, though, as he screamed in pain. Every inch of his body felt like it had been lit on fire. He involuntarily began to thrash around. There were shouts, then suddenly strangers wearing all black surrounded him. Four of the strangers held him down, keeping him from thrashing his way off of whatever bed they had him on, while a fifth stranger, a woman with a monocle over her right eye and frizzy red hair, brought a vial of something to his lips and emptied its contents into his mouth.

“Shh, shh, you're safe, shh. Your nerve endings were over stimulated and you took some burns from the lightning, not to mention your fall afterwards. By the Great Forger, I don’t understand how you and that wyvern aren’t dead already, but I’m not about to let you die now, so try and calm down and let the medicine do its work!” the frizzy haired woman practically shouted, her voice crisp but frayed, like she had been crying.

Somewhere in his mind he wondered why that might be, but could not muster the strength to spare any further thought. He was simply grateful as blissful darkness returned to him, and he dreamed once again.

----------

The next time that Valen awoke he was feeling much better, though he was still in quite a bit of pain. Too much for him to even try and sit up. Luckily, he did not have to. The frizzy-haired woman seemed to have noticed that he was awake, which he quickly understood was because he had groaned without realizing it due to his pain. She came to stand beside him once more, looking him over and then turning to motion to someone.

One of the other people dressed in all black appeared and the two conferred for a moment.

“He’s doing considerably better. Inform the Queen and Second Ranger Bardus, and let’s start to lower his dosage. Even if he gets better, he’ll never be able to get up and do anything if his mind is addled from too much ferrouscure,” the redhead told the man, who bowed in response.

“Yes, Doctor Samorr,” he replied, and then he was off. Valen couldn't bring himself to care that the man departed - his eyes had widened and locked onto the woman fully. Doctor Samorr? Immediately it made sense why she had seemed vaguely familiar to him – she was related to the other Samorr. The Samorr who had…

Memories of what had happened all came back to him then, his eyes beginning to glisten. Though the tears stung his still-raw skin, he had to let them fall. He was unable to lift his hand more than maybe an inch or so, and so could not wipe them away.

“Iiiii… Iiiii’mmmm… sooorrrryyyy…” Valen said, though his words came out in long, drown out moans through gritted teeth. Doctor Samorr immediately turned to meet his gaze. He could see her eyes were still rimmed in red. She rested a hand on his forehead for just a moment, very gingerly, so as not to hurt his healing skin.

“Shush now, it’s alright. Just rest for now. You’re almost better. Just rest,” the woman murmured. Valen cried still, but he was exhausted regardless, and the thought of sleep pulled him once more. He closed his eyes and dreamt again.

----------

By the time he woke up the third time, Valen finally felt well enough to push himself up in his bed a bit, though he moved ever so slowly, every muscle in his body still sore and aching. He looked around through bleary vision, trying to get a better understanding of where he was. He lay in a large room with marble floors, ceiling and walls, steel pillars every two yards from floor to ceiling, and iron accents inlaid through it all.

The bed he was in was completely black. As he took in his surroundings and all the other black décor, it was immediately obvious that this was some sort of medical center. He also realized that someone had changed him into incredibly light white linens, instead of his ragged leather armor and cottons. It made sense, of course, as his brain slowly recalled his two interactions with Doctor Samorr. The thought of her, however, made his eyes tingle with tears again, so he forced his mind off the topic for now. He still needed to understand where exactly he was.

Then there was a pressure on his mind, gentle and probing. He recognized that touch, though he had felt it so rarely before.

‘Raen?’ he thought, and immediately palpable waves of joy began radiation through Valen’s mind. It was strong enough to give him a splitting headache.

Valen! Awake! Okay! Raenelir’s thought-voice replied. For the first time Valen realized that the Highborn’s voice almost sounded like someone learning a language for the first time, someone who could not quite yet put full sentences together but could still say enough to communicate their main point.

‘Yes, Raen, I’m awake. And okay. But where are we? Where is everyone else?’ he replied. At this Raenelir seemed to pause and consider, as though he did not quite know how to answer the question.

Finally, though, he responded

Lots. Buildings. Big. People. Friends. Okay. Though it was obviously a lot for Raenelir to say at once, Valen was relieved as he pieced the wyvern’s meaning together. They were in a city, he had to guess. Based off of where they had been before losing consciousness, he could only assume that it was Midaras. The other part was easy enough to understand; their friends were okay, though he wished he could get more information.

Suddenly, his connection with Raen was cut off and he heard the sound of boots on marble. Into the room came Doctor Samorr, who looked up from a piece of paper to see him sitting up in bed. Her eyes widened in surprise.

Immediately, she was across the room and at his side, looking him all over for any signs of pain or weakness.

“How are you? How much pain do you feel? Do you understand what I’m saying? Can you hear me alright?” the woman asked, the questions flying from her mouth too quickly for him to even be able to respond. She only paused then because someone else entered the room behind her. Valen recognized Bardus right away, the Second Ranger looking surprised to see him up and sitting as well.

“You’re… up?” the man asked, incredulous.

So for the next ten minutes or so, Valen answered all of the questions Doctor Samorr threw his way, as well as the occasional inquiry from Bardus, though every time the ranger spoke he got death glares from the Doctor. After the assessment was completed, the frizzy-haired woman stepped back, shaking her head in amazement.

“I can’t quite believe it, but... you actually seem to be alright. Any remaining pain you’re dealing with will fade, as long as you take it slowly for a few more days. Honestly I have no medical explanation for the rate at which you’ve recovered. You should be dead right now. Anyone else would have been. You’ve got the favor of the Forger on you, certainly,” Doctor Samorr remarked, turning to face Bardus as she finished.

“Is it really that big a deal?” Valen asked, not able to really comprehend what this might mean for him.

“I saw you when you and Raenelir were brought in, Valen. It… it didn't look good. I had to cover Hera’s eyes. I didn’t think you would have wanted her to see you in that state, and… I didn’t know if you were going to make it," Bardus paused there for a moment, clearing his throat as his voice began to grow gruff. "Yet here we are, only a week and a half on, and you’ve made almost a full recovery. I’ve never seen anything like it." Valen understood a bit more the weight of what this could mean for him, now.

He was not normal. Whatever the lightning sense had been, and after all that had happened in the fight against Velitarii and Agrathor, he knew that he no longer had a chance at living a normal, peaceful life. Yet did he care anymore? The moment he had decided to become someone who could protect what he cared about the most was the moment he had chosen to set that dream aside for another.

Then he registered the rest of what Bardus had said and his eyes widened. He slowly turned in the bed, so that his bare feet fell to touch the floor. Doctor Samorr immediately reached out to try and help him, but he waved her away as he tested his strength by slowly pushing off the bed, letting his still pained and weakened legs take his weight.

It wasn't pleasant, but he could stand, thankfully, and hopefully walk as well.

“Where… where is Hera? The others?” Valen asked, though he had to pause for a moment to catch his breath after the exertion of getting to his feet. Bardus and Doctor Samorr looked at each other for another moment, before the Second Ranger answered.

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

“Well, your sister is with the wyverns up in the Rookery. It’s the only space we had that she said would work for the wyverns, so we've been working on converting it to her specifications. She seemed to think it would work as a starting point for a new hatchery,” Bardus explained. Valen felt the grin on his face before the man even finished speaking; it was good to know Hera was making herself heard already.

“As for the others, the brothers were having trouble deciding what to do so they’ve been spending some time training with the guard in the meantime. Ranger La- I mean, Senna, is no longer with the Iron Watch. She elected to step down from her position with us in order to serve the new O-“

“Shut that mouth of yours, Bardus! Did you forget the Queen has yet to speak with him? She wanted to discuss this with him herself,” Doctor Samorr snapped, cutting the man off before he could say too much, apparently. The Second Ranger turned red before nodding apologetically.

“You’re right, of course. Apologies,” he muttered, but he had still said enough to catch Valen’s attention. What was he talking about? Samuel and Simon were having trouble deciding what to do? And Senna was no longer a member of the Iron Watch? What did all of that mean?

Seeing his confusion, Doctor Samorr came to stand next to him and pulled one of his arms around her shoulders to help keep him steady.

“If you think you’re ready for answers then you’d best walk on the way, to get used to it again. Good Queen Irena will have to be alright with you meeting her as you are right now, since, well… your sister was not sure how big your clothes should be anymore,” the Doctor said. It was at that moment that Valen realized part of why he felt so odd standing now; he looked over and down at Bardus.

He now stood a full head higher than the Second Ranger.

Looking down at himself, he took in the shape of his body in shock. Not only had he apparently healed far more quickly than should have been possible, he had changed. Where before the first real hints at muscle had begun to show through after his time training on the road, Valen was now truly athletic, muscles protruding in all the right places. His feet and hands were larger as well, not to mention he had been about four or five inches shorter than Bardus before, and now stood at least that much taller than him.

He would guess that put him at about six-foot-three, a height that he had never though he would achieve, especially considering that neither his father or brother had ever been so tall. In addition to his more miraculous changes, Valen also realized that after so long on the road his dark hair had grown quite long, coming down to his jaw. As he felt at his face he could even feel the scruff beginnings of a beard along his jaw.

“Is there… is there a mirror I could look at?” Valen inquired. After only a moment’s hesitation, Doctor Samorr nodded and pointed towards a shelf built into the wall off to the side.

“Do you mind getting it for him, Bardus?” she asked, and the Second Ranger nodded and walked over, picking the small hand mirror up off of the shelf and carrying it back over. Valen reached out and took it, holding it up so he could see himself. He couldn't stop the gasp of shock that slipped from his mouth.

There were multiple new scars on his face, a gift to remember his clash with Velitarii, the most impressive being a burn scar across the left half of his forehead that ran up into his hairline, though it did not seem to hurt the growth of his hair. That was not what surprised him so much, however, as he would have expected the scarring. What he did not expect to see was the swirl of yellow in his formerly fully hazel eyes, a yellow remarkably similar to the color in Raenelir's.

“According to Hera, whatever happened while you were fighting over the city changed you to this extent. I couldn't even begin trying to explain how that's possible, and if I can’t then no one else here can,” Doctor Samorr said as he examined himself. He took all of this information in, trying his best not to let it overwhelm him despite the churning storm of emotions and thoughts he was attempting to keep under control right now.

Then, he packed it away into the back of his mind to focus on another time. Right now, he needed some answers to his questions. That meant going to see the Queen of Manidar. He thought for a moment that he wished he could look a bit more presentable, but Hera had been right when she told them she did not know what he should wear now. There was no way anything he had brought with him would fit anymore. Valen was going to need an entirely new wardrobe, a thought that made him want to groan.

Handing the mirror back to Bardus, Valen steeled himself for the meeting to come.

“Let’s go see the Queen,” he said. After putting the mirror down, Bardus took his other arm. Together the three of them made their way from the infirmary, off to find out just what it was that this Queen Irena needed him so badly for.

He hoped that it was worth it after coming all this way.

----------

Valen was not sure what he had been expecting when they entered the throne room of Midaras. From what he saw as they passed through the high, vaunted halls of the Ferric Palace, he could have thought that Queen Irena Belstieri was anything from a cold woman with a rule to match the iron her nation was built upon, or a kind soul who filled her palace with warmth and life.

When he met the woman herself she wore a black shirt and trousers, lines running along their sides of the same color as the iron crown on her head, with short black hair and skin as dark as the chocolate he had once been lucky enough to taste as a child. Her smile was kind, but her eyes were hard, speaking of someone who knew to show warmth to those deserving without growing shy to the use of force when it was needed.

She also stood barely over five feet, maybe, though even that would have been a bit of a stretch to say for sure. Regardless, she stood at the end of the throne room, not even sitting in the simple throne of marble and metal. Instead she paced back and forth, deep in thought. As soon as her guards announced their arrival, however, Queen Irena stopped her pacing and turned to them, her face splitting into a relieved smile.

“Valen Galar! I am so pleased to see you are awake and doing well. After your clash with the Black Beast himself – claiming victory over him, no less! – we wanted to honor you, but then, when we found you floating in the Black Lake, I was worried that…” Irena paused for a moment, then shook her head as if knocking loose some dark thought that had threatened her mind. “Well, it does not matter. You are alive, and looking far better than I would have expected, from what I was told of your condition!”

The sudden burst of conversation did not give him time to think of a proper response and too late he realized he did not know how to address a Queen, forcing him to use the first address that came to mind.

“Ah, yes, my Queen, I am okay, and feeling better by the second. From what Doctor Samorr and Bardus told me, I know it was a strange recovery. I only know as much about it as the doctor, though, and sadly that’s not very much,” he replied. He cringed at his own lack of decorum, but the Queen simply shrugged and nodded as if she had expected such an answer.

“Well, it is of no consequence in the end. What matters is that you’re alright. And, now that you are here, there is a matter of such great importance that I dare not wait any longer to speak to you about it. However, it is… I must ask much of you, should you decide to accept this request,” the Queen said, turning to look out the window built into the wall of the room. Through it, Valen could make out a view of a huge swath of the city. He realized as he looked out that they were actually fairly high up, as well. The palace had to be tall as well as wide, because they had not ascended or descended any stairs coming to the throne room.

Her words intrigued him already, though his eyes narrowed as he considered them a bit more closely. What could she mean by ‘she must ask a lot of him?’ He found himself involuntarily leaning forward some, taking his weight off of the shoulders of Bardus and Doctor Samorr. He felt strong enough to stand on his own, and so he did so, pulling away from them to stand a couple steps further into the room.

“Please, go on, my Queen,” Valen said awkwardly, still not sure how he should speak to the royal despite her apparent lack of care for formalities. Turning back to face him, Irena bit the corner of her lip for a moment before sighing and continuing.

“As you have seen for yourself in the past months, from what I have heard of your journey thus far after speaking to your companions, the Orders that serve the Empire keep the people of Parovia in a state of constant fear. They are the Emperor’s primary enforcers, spreading death and destruction everywhere they go. You and your wyvern struck a mighty blow against the Empire when you defeated High Lord Ravas Velitarii and the dragon Patriarch Agrathor, truly, but did you know that the Blackscale Knights are only considered the weakest of all the Orders? They serve over the widest area, flying to answer the call of the Emperor anywhere on the continent, but the others are more powerful and their holds on the land far more entrenched. Without some force to meet them blow for blow and wrest the advantage of flight from the Empire, there is no hope for us or anyone else for defeating and overthrowing the Emperor. Restoring freedom to Parovia will forever remain a fantasy,” Irena began to explain, turning and pacing again as she spoke. She rubbed her chin with one hand as she went on.

“I am told you know of First Ranger Illaya’s true identity? That she is a Half-Elf, and has provided us with some secrets of the Fae so that we might stand a chance against the Empire? She came to this Queendom nearly one hundred years ago, bringing with her an ancient prophecy of her people. She pledged allegiance to my great-grandmother in return for her assistance in searching all Parovia for a certain creature she believed would be the key to turning the tide against the Emperor and the dark forces that have guided his line since the Empire’s rise. The prophecy claimed that someone would become 'Bound' to the ‘Last True Blood,’ which she clarified as the Highborn wyvern, which my great-grandmother knew to be the rarest of all wyverns in Parovia. This prophecy spoke of your wyvern friend, Raenelir, and the person who would some day be Bound to him. You. We need you, Valen, because without you the whole world might fall to the Empire. I know that you understand why it is we would wish to prevent that.” At this, Queen Irena paused and turned to face Valen once again, stepping closer to him and looking him over from head to toe before she continued.

Valen had no time to interject as he tried to keep up with the implications of what the Queen was telling him. Which was why, when she asked him the next question, it hit him like an anvil to the head.

“Valen Galar. In order to combat the Empire and restore freedom and peace to Parovia, I would like to name you Sir Valen Galar, Great Knight of Manidar and High Lord of a new Order of wyvern riders, which you would be responsible for teaching to work with wyverns, to ride wyverns and to train with wyverns. It will be a great amount of work, but you will have all of the support we can muster - including people to guide you in what you do not know. I promise that anything you do not understand, we will work to help you learn. But we need you. Without you, none of this will work,” Irena continued, stepping closer until finally she was right up in his face, meeting his eyes with her own before placing a firm hand on his shoulder.

“Help us, Valen. You are our only hope.”

And Valen, like the fool he was, simply stood there. Staring.