The girl picked up a splinter from the ground. She twirled it in front of Chiquita's nose and, swinging, threw it to the side. A gust of wind threw the light splinter back, but the dragoness pretended not to notice it, she joined the game. Sticking out her tongue and waddling comically, she rushed forward. The girl, bursting into happy laughter, ran after her new friend.

"Maybe we should go into the house, and eat a little. After all, no one fed you on the road,"

"You're right, I'm hungry. And I can't think clearly on an empty stomach. Where is your son Morty?"

Maleus frowned, I asked him an uncomfortable question:

"I was afraid that the next visit of the dragon's servants would take him too. So, I harnessed the bull to the cart, loaded some things, and sent him to the city, to my sister. It will be easier for him to get lost there."

"I see that everything in your garden is growing and ripening."

"Some kind of miracle has happened," Maleus smiled for the first time during our conversation, although sadness was still present in his eyes. - "The invisible curse was lifted from the vegetation and it began to bloom like never before. You should have seen the rye ripening in the field!"

The blacksmith's house, if it could be called a house, was located not far from the forge. His dwelling was half dug into the ground, creating the feeling that we were in a deep hole. It was semi-dark inside, the walls and ceiling with wooden beams were covered with soot, and the floors, earthen and uneven, exuded a damp, musty breath mixed with the smell of clay and charcoal.

I sat at a rough wooden table with deep scratches indicating years of use. Maleus went to the hearth, took a clay bowl, and poured hot soup into it. He tore off a large piece of bread from a round loaf and put it next to me. I picked up a gold spoon, the only thing that reminded me of luxury in this modest setting, and, without hiding my pleasure, began to eat the soup, rich in flavor, with pieces of boiled meat slowly floating to the surface. Warmth spread throughout my body, and despite the simplicity of the meal, I felt gratitude for this food, prepared with care.

I brought another spoon to my mouth, but suddenly froze, my gaze stopping on Maleus. A conversation with Oceania surfaced in my memory when she said that with time I would learn to feel and understand the structure of any material with which I would work.

"What if ..." - a thought flashed, and I immediately jumped up from my seat, leaving the unfinished soup.

I ran out of the house and quickly headed towards the meteorite. Like a swarm of bees, thoughts buzzed in my head, urging me to the experiment. I concentrated and imagined the meteorite not as a heavy iron ball, but as a piece of plasticine - a dense and viscous material. If enough heat and human effort were applied, the plasticine would become soft and pliable.

Stopping in front of the meteorite, I raised my hand and shouted a spell that summoned fire:

"Ignis!"

A bright flame burst from my palm and struck the round surface. This fire would not be enough for an ordinary iron meteorite, but for the plasticine ball that I imagined, it was even too much.

When the flame died down, I felt the material become pliable, as if some magic had worked on it. I plunged my hands into the heated mass, and to my surprise, I began to easily tear off large chunks of it. Maleus stood nearby, not taking his eyes off my magic, his eyes widened in surprise, like those of a man who had seen a miracle for the first time. He said nothing, but it was clear from his expression that what was happening amazed him.

Maleus suddenly shouted:

"Your hands!"

I looked at my palms and froze. They had not lost their shape, but they had become alien, as if they belonged not to me, but to a dragon creature. Large knuckles, long claws, gray scaly skin - the hands looked not like a person's, but like a dragon's. There was no trace of a burn on the skin, except for one old one, received in the Mysterious Cave. I had long forgotten about it, and it had long ceased to remind me of itself. I felt a chill of fear inside me, but I didn’t show it. The blacksmith, on the contrary, didn’t hide his emotions — his eyes widened and his eyebrows shot up. I didn’t tell Maleus about my trip to the Dragon’s Lair, realizing that it could only complicate our relationship. He already looked wary.

Slowly but surely, my hands became normal again: the scales disappeared, the fingers acquired their usual shape, and the claws disappeared, giving way to nails. I showed my palms to the blacksmith and said casually:

“A little magic. Nothing special.”

Maleus continued to silently look at me, looking at me with distrust, as if looking for a catch.

“Nix taught me this,” I added, trying to explain, but not going into too much detail. These words sounded almost casual as if turning hands into dragon paws was a routine matter. Maleus nodded, but it was clear that his anxiety had not dissipated. The forge breathed fire and metal, filling with a roar like the heart of a mountain beating beneath the earth. Shaft, Maleus's new worker, replacing the blacksmith's son, Morty, looked like his name: tall and lean, with long arms that looked like they were carved from wood. He moved with surprising ease, as if he had been accustomed to hard work since childhood, and masterfully controlled the bellows. They puffed and grumbled like a huge disgruntled monster, exhaling weightless air that raised the temperature in the furnace to an unbearable heat, comparable to volcanic lava. The heat filled the forge, causing the walls to tremble, and the air became so thick that it seemed about to thicken in the lungs. Sweat ran down our faces, cutting paths through the soot and dust.

I took up the bronze hammer. Its weight seemed lighter than before; perhaps it was my maturing body, or perhaps the strength that flowed in my blood from magic and my dragon heritage.

Maleus, with a serious face and clutching a pair of bronze tongs, pulled the first red-hot blank from the fiery mouth of the furnace. He set it down in front of me, and for a moment the forge was silent, broken only by the heavy breathing of the bellows. The smith nodded to me, giving me the signal, and I swung. The hammer swung down on the red-hot metal, and the forge exploded in sparks - they flew up like fire moths, illuminating the walls and faces.

The blank, instead of taking the desired shape of the hammer, flattened into a thin sheet, emitting a deafening ringing that seemed to fly far beyond the forge. A flash of disappointment ran across Maleus's face for a moment, but he did not flinch. Tired but not broken, he picked up the blank again and looked me in the eyes, as if reminding me that this was not a defeat, but only the first step.

"We will need this piece a little later," the blacksmith threw the damaged blank into a vat of water.

"Don't hit so hard, otherwise we will waste time here."

I mentally persuaded myself to hit half-heartedly. The bronze hammer rose and fell, and after a dozen attempts, I got the hang of it. Soon the shapeless blank took the shape of a rectangle. Maleus skillfully chopped off the excess, and with my help, he made a hole in the blank for the handle. When the blank began to cool, acquiring a dark cherry color, the blacksmith threw it into the furnace and Shaft, breathing heavily from the effort, blew the bellows.

The ringing children's laughter reached the smithy, like the cheerful ringing of bells, diluting the hot roar of the furnace and the monotonous rumble of the hammer. Fox and Chiquita were jumping around the yard, involving local children in their games. The little dragoness, like an unknown miracle, became the center of attention. Not only children, but also adults watched her antics with curiosity, at first with caution, and then with obvious relief. They saw that Chiquita was not a monster from ancient fairy tales, but just a dragonet who happily played and carried children on his back chased thrown sticks, and waved his wings, cooling their hot faces. I glanced in her direction from time to time, ready to stand up for Chiquita at any moment, but everything went smoothly. Children's laughter, cheerful carefree play demonstrated to adults that children - human and dragon - had found a common language. Chiquita, like all children, was cheerful and carefree.

I saw one of the girls gently stroke Chiquita's head, and she responded with a joyful hiss, like a purr. The dragoness was just like them among the children, and this filled my heart with quiet pride and hope.

I was eager to start making the sword - the very weapon with which I would be able to fight the hated dragons. The desire to quickly take on the cherished task spurred me on, but Maleus seemed to be in no hurry. He carefully approached each stage of the work, as if testing my patience and determination. After making the hammer, we began forging the anvil, and this was a logical decision: if the sword was going to be made of iron, then the tools for its creation should be appropriate.

The blacksmith worked calmly, and methodically, and although I understood that there was no need to rush here, sometimes I still wanted to speed up the process. But there was no point in arguing with Maleus. He knew exactly what he was doing and would not let me skip important stages. Instead of rushing, he directed my energy into creating other iron objects: from the blanks I had ruined, he made plowshares, scythes, and sickle tips, knives. Simple but necessary things that were useful to the village.

The forge was not empty: onlookers were constantly milling around, having come to stare at our work. The rumor about the giant meteorite that had been brought in had spread throughout the village, and now everyone wanted to know what we would make from it. Maleus seemed to pay no attention to the curious spectators. Probably, he planned to tire the curious with monotonous work, so that the spectators would lose interest and leave us alone. He knew that real work requires silence and concentration, and he did not want to turn the forge into a theater for onlookers. One day I decided to visit the wizard Nix. In the evening, when the main work was completed, I approached Maleus to ask permission to leave.

"Can I leave for a while?" I asked.

The blacksmith looked at me in surprise, raising one eyebrow.

"We already talked about this. Have you forgotten?"

"I remember," I answered, nodding. "You are the boss here, and I am only an apprentice. My knowledge and skills are not enough to cope with what we have planned. Therefore, I am ready to obey your instructions and recognize you as the elder."

Maleus softened a little, although his gaze was still wary.

"If you return by midnight, you will have time to participate in the process of creating the sword."

I thought for a moment. Doubt crept into my soul - should I leave at all?

"So maybe I shouldn't leave?"

Maleus grinned slightly and shook his head.

"If you've already decided on something, don't change your plans. Be consistent. I'm not sure that the first draft will turn out to be what you need. We're both learning to work with this new material, and I've rarely dealt with iron, and I've never encountered such quality. The main thing is to take your time. And remember: failures are also part of learning.

I just had to say goodbye to Chiquita and give her some parting words so that the little one wouldn't be afraid of my absence. A child is a child, even if it's a dragon. I looked into the barn, where the dragoness had settled down on the dry grass, and looked quite pleased: Lisa was sitting next to her, gently stroking her with her small palms. Chiquita, her eyes closed, was enjoying the warmth and affection of the girl, and her face showed obvious pleasure. It even seemed to me that some approval of my departure flashed in her eyes as if she were saying: "Everything is fine, I'm here under supervision." I set off, heading towards Nix's dwelling. As I climbed the road leading up the hill, I suddenly realized how the familiar landscape had changed. The sun, similar to the one that warmed me in my world, was slowly rolling down the horizon, painting the sky in gentle pink and gold hues. On one side of the road stretched a field of sunflowers, each of which, like a mirror, reflected a small sun. On the other side, green rye spread out, already in ear shape and trembling in the wind. Perhaps it was this that Mila and I had planted together.

I stopped for a moment, allowing the memories of that girl to return. Each ear of corn reminded me of our work in the fields, of the days when we, albeit cautiously, were still getting closer. These places, now so warm and alive, breathed memories as if reproaching me for not being able to protect it them from the dragon's servants, as I had saved them from the birds of prey. The hut of the wizard Nix looked more wretched against the background of lush greenery, just like a disorderly pile of brushwood. In the first part of the hut, which was mercilessly blown by the winds and washed by the rains, there was not a hint of a human dwelling. The dilapidated walls seemed on the verge of finally falling apart, and the floor was covered with a layer of dirt and dust. But something still caught my attention - barely distinguishable traces of Nix's soft shoes imprinted on the floor. Earlier, just a few months ago, it would not have occurred to me to examine such details. Now this discovery struck me as if I had seen something special in the most ordinary. I walked slowly through the hut, carefully examining its walls. And then, a new facet of perception opened up before me. I could discern how Nix carefully touched the brushwood, adjusting fallen twigs; as if every stroke of his hands left an invisible but tangible history on the walls. I ran my fingers over these traces and felt them, like light breaths of time.

And then, looking more closely, I noticed a secret door, hidden in the shadow of one of the walls. At first glance, it merged with the surroundings, but not for my new vision. The door was locked with a light spell that looked like an invisible blue thread, thin and fragile, but still reliable. I froze, realizing that before me was a new ability that I did not possess before. I saw magic. I saw it as something material, tangible.

Surprise gave way to determination. I stretched out my hand, concentrating, and in an instant the thread gave in, untying itself under my gaze. The door quietly opened, and I carefully stepped into Nix's underground refuge. Here, in his real home, everything was as before: the same shelves with herbs and vials, the same strange artifacts that I had seen before. But now, looking at them, I could read their purpose, and understand how they fit into the life of a wizard.

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What had previously seemed to me simply ancient things and trinkets now acquired a new meaning. Each little thing had its function, its place in this space. Looking at them now, I felt how much had changed in myself - as if invisible threads of magic had woven into my consciousness, revealing secrets that had previously been hidden from me.

Just like the first time, my attention was immediately drawn to the chessboard, on which stood figures made of gold and silver. I had once held these kings and queens in my hands many times, thinking that they were simply beautiful figures made of precious metals. But now, with a new vision, I realized that before me was not just chess, but something much more disturbing and strange.

The pieces on the board seemed to come alive under my gaze. The kings and queens, proudly raised on their squares, the courtiers and small detachments of guards in the form of pawns - all of them were living people, enchanted with ancient and powerful spells.

I felt a chill run down my spine. Two kings, and two queens, surrounded by their courtiers, stood motionless, but their eyes, full of invisible torment, seemed to beg for salvation. Who did this? What power did it take to turn people into chess pieces?

Nyx never mentioned it and never hinted that we were playing with living people. What secrets does my mentor hide, and how long has he been carrying this weight on his shoulders?

Perhaps these people were someone important, someone important, or they were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. There were no answers, only silence and shadows falling on the gold and silver army.

I leaned closer, peering into the faces of the figures, trying to see at least some kind of clue, but the magic that bound them was too strong. These were not just things - these were souls, captive and doomed to stand forever in their cages until an unknown release occurred. It was impossible to understand who had enchanted them and why, but the thought that Nyx knew about it and never shared it hurt me. What else was this world of magic and secrets hiding from me?

An examination of the vials of liquids did not bring any special news. Mostly they contained medicines that helped people fall asleep easily, cope with an upset stomach, or relieve a headache. Some ointments helped with burns, others quickly healed shallow wounds.

When I first found myself in Nyx's house, I found several closed doors. Then I could not enter the rooms forbidden to me, they were locked with magic spells. Now I had the opportunity to visit these rooms. In one of them, I saw a wooden bed with a mattress stuffed with dry grass. Nix's bed! The second room struck me with emptiness. If it is empty, then why close it?

Magic vision did not help me, I did not see anything. But in the third room, I saw some strange artifacts. It resembled a school globe, only without a stand.

This artifact attracted the eye with its mystery. It smoothly rotated in the air, as if resisting invisible forces that were trying to stop it. The surface of this strange globe was dotted with incomprehensible symbols and signs that pulsated with soft light, changing their shades from deep blue to bright green. It was something more than just decoration or part of the interior - I felt how the artifact emitted powerful magical waves intertwined with the energy around it.

I extended my hand, but as I approached, the artifact sped up its rotation slightly, as if warning of an unwanted touch. It seemed to be alive, reacting to my presence. Goosebumps ran across my skin, and I realized that this object was not just a magical thing, but perhaps a key to some deep secrets or a powerful weapon.

I wondered: why did Nix keep it in this hidden room? Was it an ancient weapon capable of changing the course of battle, or something else, dangerous and unpredictable?

Although magical vision could not penetrate its essence, I felt that the artifact was a source of power that took my breath away.

Staying overnight made no sense, and no desire either. I just wanted to take my shotgun and ammunition for it. Even though I was supposed to have my sword soon, a firearm is never superfluous. to go hunting, or fight off small predators. While I was examining the shotgun, someone entered the dwelling.

I abruptly left the room, which for some time served as my bedroom and in which I kept my things. Nix did not expect that I would run into him, he shuddered from surprise and some incomprehensible creature with a large head and many tentacles appeared in front of me. This image existed for only a few seconds, then it again transformed into the familiar Nix, a gray-haired, long-bearded old man.

"Was the door open?"

"Yes," - for some reason I lied. - "I just came from the village of Maleus, I wanted to pick up my things."

"I was looking for you. The last time I almost caught up with you before you were taken to the Lair. Forgive me!"

"I am alive and well, everything is fine with me. I found the heavenly iron and took it to Maleus."

"I was at the crash site and even dug up a small cave. But I didn't find any iron, it sank into the ground. Don't you want to tell me how it all happened? Where did you disappear to, what did you have to go through?"

I hesitated a little, not knowing where to start. Memories of the forest village and stone worms were rushing through my head. At some point, I wanted to tell a story about how I wandered through windfalls, slid over wet stones, and found a meteorite in the dim light. But looking at Nix, I decided to tell everything as it was.

"After I was taken to the Lair, I found myself in the dragon caves," I began, leaning against the wall and looking into the old man's eyes, which seemed almost bottomless.

"There were terrible creatures there, and I'm not sure if all of them were dragons. Perhaps some of them were like you."

I paused, reminding myself of his fleeting transformation, and Nyx frowned as if my implication had awakened forgotten fears in him.

"Do you think I'm related to dragons?" he asked quietly, a hint of hurt in his voice. I nodded, trying to find the words:

"Perhaps we are all more connected to them than we think. In the Lair, I learned more about myself than I wanted to know. Dragon blood, magic... You see, Nyx, they didn't just keep me there - they ate me like a cutlet. They are looking for someone, searching for something I don't fully understand."

As I spoke, the memory of Cryonax and his merciless gaze came alive before my eyes.

Nyx listened attentively, without interrupting, but in his gaze, I caught something like concern or even sadness. He walked around the room, examining every detail, as if looking for traces of my presence here, as if he wanted to make sure that I was standing before him.

"It's good that you're alive and continuing your journey. But know that every choice has its price. My appearance..." he hesitated, as if the words were stuck in his throat, "...is only a part of who I was and who I can become. Each of us has our secrets, and I'm sorry that you saw me at such a moment."

I nodded, feeling that our meeting had acquired a new meaning. Silence hung in the air, in which we both tried to comprehend what had happened. Nyx, with his secrets and hidden power, and I, with the meteorite sword and the not-fully-understood magic of dragons, were fighting our own battle.

"Maleus will forge a sword for me today, I would like to be present at the making. By the way, is there anything you want to tell me about dragons?"

Tension hung in the air when Nyx, looking at me attentively, hesitated with his answer to my question about dragons. It was as if he was searching for the right words, but I was already starting to lose patience.

"You promised to help me when I arrived in Orkvalia," I blurted out, no longer able to contain my resentment. "Where have you been all this time? I almost died in the Lair. Cryonax almost squashed me like a fly! Why didn't you ever show up? Never tell me what to do. Were you too busy to cast a single spell to ease my fate?"

Nyx frowned, clasping his hands together as if trying to keep himself from answering. His calm, almost detached expression made me feel even more furious. My heart pounded in my chest, filling everything around me with a booming echo. I clenched my fists to keep from shaking.

"Do you think my enemies are just dragons like the ones you fight?" Nyx finally spoke, his voice calm, but there was hidden pain in it. — "My opponents are forces that you cannot even imagine. Their power is incomparable to the dangers that you face. Yes, you survived and fought dragons, but believe me, compared to my problems, your trials are nothing."

His words, despite the external coldness, hit me like a punch in the stomach. I expected understanding, and support, and not for my efforts to be devalued. My anger only grew.

"Nothing?" I stepped forward, and my voice broke into a scream. — "For you, this is nothing? It is easy for you to say, sitting in your shelter, when I, risking my life, mined this heavenly iron! You have no idea how many times I thought this was the end! And where were you? Locked in your dungeon so as not to see what was happening above? My adventures could have ended any of those nights, but you did not even move!"

Nyx narrowed his eyes, his gaze unyielding but with a subtle spark of anger in his eyes. He slowly approached, his presence suddenly palpable, like a heavy cloud.

"You think I'm hiding?" he hissed, his voice hardening. "If I didn't do what I do, you wouldn't be here. You think you're alone in your battles, but do you know that your every decision, every action, every step you take is dependent on what you do? My enemies are watching, and manipulating events. One wrong move on my part, and they will destroy not only me but everyone you care about."

Nyx's words hit me like an icy wind. I fell silent, feeling the anger slowly drain away, leaving disappointment and devastation in its wake. We stood opposite each other, and in that silence, saturated with heavy emotions, I realized: he was not an enemy, but also not the mentor I had counted on.

"Maybe you're right," I whispered, looking down. "But I'm scared too. I don't know what to do. You promised to help, and instead, I feel... lost."

Nix took a deep breath as if trying to calm himself. He extended his hand but then dropped it as if changing his mind.

"I can't always be there for you," his voice was softer but no less determined. "You're growing, you're learning. I believe in you, even when it seems like I'm not there. But know that every time you feel alone in a battle, I'm fighting too, but on my front. And those battles are no less important than yours."

I nodded, feeling the anger give way to understanding. Maybe he was right. Maybe our paths were too intertwined for us to see the whole picture. I turned away, feeling the weight of the conversation still pressing on my shoulders.

"I want to be prepared," I said, looking up at Nyx. "I don't know what's coming next, but I have to be. For myself, for Chiquita, for everyone who expects it of me."

Nyx nodded silently, and I felt that despite our differences, we understood each other better than ever. The fight might not have solved everything, but it made it clear that we were both on our paths, and neither of us could walk it alone.

We both stood in silence, drained by the outburst. Nyx was the first to break the silence, his voice muffled but confident.

"I've found out that dragons don't act on their own. They have someone helping them," he began, watching my reaction carefully. — "Some sorcerer, whose power is incomparable to mine. Therefore, you must proceed with extreme caution. Rumors of your exploits are spreading throughout Orkvalia. You are known as Oris, the dragon slayer."

I listened carefully, trying to catch every word.

"I admired the way you dealt with Vulgaris," Nyx continued, his face softening, and for a moment something like pride flashed in his eyes. - "But Cryonax and Pyronax are different. They are younger, but much more dangerous. You already know that they cannot be killed by ordinary weapons."

My heart stopped for a moment when he said these words. I remembered the look of Cryonax, confident in his invulnerability. Ordinary wounds could not kill the dragon, but why? Nyx, as if he had read my thoughts, delved into the explanation.

"What you don't know," he continued, "is that each of these dragons has four hearts. And they do more than just pump blood around the body."

He paused as if collecting his thoughts, and I felt his words weaving into some knowledge long hidden behind a veil of secrecy.

"The first heart is the main one. It is responsible for the very life of the dragon and its ability to regenerate. It is thanks to this heart that dragons can restore damaged organs, and heal terrible wounds. It is their source of life, and as long as it beats, the dragon will not die."

I felt two hearts beating in my chest. One of them is the main source of my life... Maybe it is this heart of the dragon that I must strike.

"The second heart is for fire," Nix continued, and in his words, there was a tone of awe before powerful creatures. — "It feeds their flame, makes it so destructive and all-consuming. It is thanks to this heart that dragons can spew fire over great distances as if liquid fire were flowing through their veins."

"The third heart is for the rapid healing of wounds," Nyx spoke as if revealing secret after secret. — "Even if the dragon is wounded, this heart ensures rapid recovery, preventing wounds from bleeding or festering. It allows them to become invincible in battle."

I felt everything inside me shrink. These creatures were the embodiment of strength and vitality, but it seemed that they also had weaknesses.

"The fourth heart is for strength," Nyx concluded. — "It feeds their muscles, gives them power and speed, makes their blows so devastating. As long as this heart is intact, the dragon will remain incredibly strong and resilient."

I stood there, amazed at what I had heard. Nix had laid out before me not just knowledge, but a battle plan, the key to victory. But it all sounded like a nearly impossible task.

"But no one knows how the hearts are arranged in the dragon's body," he continued. "That is their greatest defense. Without that knowledge, you will not be able to hit the right heart, and the dragon will remain unharmed. As long as the main heart is intact, you will not be able to kill the dragon."

His words echoed in my mind, and I felt a new fire ignite inside me - determination and a thirst for battle. Yes, I knew that a difficult fight lay ahead, but now I knew what to aim for. I could overcome their invulnerability, break through their defenses, and strike at the very heart - the very main heart that feeds all their power.

"I can do this," I said, clenching my hand into a fist. "If the dragons think they are invincible, they will soon realize that they are wrong."

image [https://i.imgur.com/s6Tj3oM.jpeg]