Drenar couldn’t sleep that night. Everyone was a little nervous as they prepared every strategy, every contingency for what could be an extremely dangerous move on their part, but he was anxious, and it wasn't because of the risks. Or the threat of Jonaleth Winters. He knows he'd win in a straight-up fight, because Jonaleth never had a fight in his life that didn't involve an equal opponent.

The thought that keeps him up, is that life is changed forever now. Evan, I don’t know how you made peace with this so fast. You should have been a basket case after all that. Terrified out of your wits. But you stood firm. Maybe you and I both inherited that steely will from Mom. Julia is sleeping on the futon on the other side of his room. The dim glow of the computer monitor leaves a gleam of light on her face, calm, cool, and collected. Even in her dreamscape.

He doesn’t know the truth anymore. He isn't sure he wants to know the truth, now Because he's worried about the cascade of questions it's going to unleash. Mom, if you were this being of legend, why did you settle down for such a mundane life? Why did you tell us nothing? Silence is his enduring answer, in the dark hours of the night. He won’t get answers here. Not now. Not tonight. He has to focus on the questions he hopes to answer tomorrow.

He can feel his mind drifting towards sleep. Maybe it will be better to stop fighting it, stop trying to mentally prepare for tomorrow, and just take a moment to rest. He glances one last time at Julia, still deep asleep. You’ve been my rock since we were little kids, Julia. I sure could stand to take another page out of your book.

At least she hasn't crawled into his bed like she did when they were younger–that would have been super awkward now.

Though right now, having her nestled against him did sound comforting, considering the massive unknowns that await them tomorrow.

He blinks and light surges back into reality, and he is suddenly aware of the burning bright light around him. Hello draconic body, you've been sorely missed.

He's sprawled on a meadow of grass and wildflowers, and his wings are pressed uncomfortably beneath him. He props himself up and cranes his neck around. Given this is the third vivid dream, he focuses on every micro detail. He sees the banding patterns of silver and azure scales on his body. Lustrous and protective, and the sun beaming down on them feels pleasant. He jumps to his feet, blinking in the welcoming late morning sun. He's standing at the edge of an alpine meadow. Sharp-shaped pines and other hardy trees form a dense forest nearby, and the mountains carve a path through that impossibly blue sky. He can almost smell the lilac and lavender around him, along with other wildflowers and sweetened grass scents.

"Alex, you in here? Unless I just teleported from my bedroom to someplace out of a Disney musical flick, pretty sure this is inside my dreams again." It feels good to stretch his limbs–all of them–and claw at the softer earth beneath him, like a cat kneading on a soft blanket. I need to find a mirror, what do I look like, exactly?

So, starting to see the bigger picture? Alex’s voice doesn’t just resound in his mind but down his spine, down to the tips of his wings. Like an ethereal shroud, wrapped around his being. Drenar nods contemplatively after a few seconds. Do you know some of the history now?

“Not all of it, Alex. But something is happening with the Talons. And I doubt it’s good.” His voice carries a bit of an accent–rougher, more primal sounding, but it’s still mostly his voice. He's finally able to speak audibly and clearly.

He can also hear the hint of a masculine voice from Alex. It’s distinct now, a voice unlike his own. Lighter, more cheery. Glad you've been digging. Now you understand the foes I fought before. The Onyx Talons. I know their names well. I fought them, before, and during the events that led to the rebellion. And the person who led them. Robespierre Crosomer.

Drenar lets out a sound of surprise. “Is that…who you spoke of the first time? Little Robbie?” The realization is surprising. “That sounds like a name…that you’d give a friend.”

He was my friend. Was. The mournful note is not lost upon Drenar. I don’t know how to explain it other than those two fragments of my memory, core beliefs that did not fade with time. They were bound by steely will, something that the ages could not take away from me. And I’m starting to remember a few others.

“Well, that’s good. Keep me clued in.” Drenar doesn’t know quite what to make of it, yet. “I think I might have heard you when I was awake a time or two. How much have you seen of my waking hours?”

Bits and pieces. It feels like lapses in continuity, large gaps where what you see fades out, and then it fades in again. The lapses are getting smaller. I think when we’re closer to the Awakening, that should disappear. I hope. Drenar looks around and tests his wings, and tenses his body. There’s a slight breeze ruffling his feathers. He doesn’t recognize this place. It could be anywhere. But somewhere high altitude, and further north. The sun burns lazily overhead, and it feels like a cool early fall day. Drenar resolves to test his flight this time, and whatever crazy abilities he can figure out. He can feel the tension in those unfurled wings, the sensitivity of each feather is wired to his brain. Even if this is just a portent of what may be, it gives him insight into what the real things’ going to be like.

“Alright Alex. Make sure when you do, you do it as loud and obnoxious as possible, so I know it’s you. And you know, not my overactive imagination,” he says with a toothy grin. “By the way, it’s flight time. Third time’s a charm!”

You know, this has not gone well for you before, Alex points out worriedly.

“Alright, let’s fly and talk then. One second.” he claws at the earth, testing his grip, and leans down, forearms tensed on the ground. Like a sprinter, ready for that ten seconds between him and an Olympic medal and making history. His whole body feels like a coiled spring, ready for that first monumental series of flaps. He’ll have to keep the angle of attack low–there’s no telling how tight the lift-to-weight ratio is for a dragon, and it’s better to err on the side of caution. “Now, what can we expect from the Talons? Do they have mages?”

If you’re going up against mages, most spells and weapons have a projectile component. You can avoid getting injured if you can avoid getting hit. But some tend to impact an area. Be careful you don’t get melted, sliced, or incinerated.

“Guess I’ll have to figure out that spell barrier–” he arches his spine a little, and he feels a current of some kind go down his spine, to the tip of his tail. Like a zap from static electricity, sudden and sharp. He sees a shimmering light over his scales for the briefest instance. He relaxes from his sprint stance, and arches his spine, and tenses his arms. That spark is present again, and the shimmering light hovers over the scales on his arms for a fractional second longer. Innate spell barrier? No invocation required, just muscle memory? Or is it tied to my telekinetics? That's helpful, he thinks with a toothy grin.

Well, at least you’ve got some cushioning now, aside from your thick skull if you crash, Alex responds sardonically. Drenar rolls his eyes at this.

“C’mon Alex, let me have this moment.” He arches his spine and feels that spark–and holds it. The shimmering stays up, and he feels like he can slip through the air like a knife. He taps on his scales with his index finger, and the barrier dissipates in that small contact area. That radiating spark he felt before is present in a diminished capacity in his limbs as well, and he goes back to his sprint stance. He lets go of the charge like he's exhaling, and the barrier fades. But the fact that he can draw it in a near-instant means he should be able to react in time in case of a mishap.

He tenses his wings. He’s ready for this. He springs forward, and feels that immense strength in his wings, that first stroke–

“Drenar, wake up!”

Reality snaps back into focus, and Julia is about four inches from his face, and he’s frozen in surprise. She’s pressed up against his body in an unintentionally sensual way, she's grabbing his forearms with her hands, and her nightwear is draped on her a little too loosely. “Drenar, you were going to wake the whole house, are you okay?” She whispers as loudly as she dares. Something doesn’t feel right, and it’s not because she’s pressed up against him. He’s distinctly uncomfortable on the bed.

“I was, until a raven-haired beauty entered my bed. And now I’m terrified,” he utters tensely. She’s still glancing left and right with the most anxious expression, and he follows her gaze. Then it’s his turn to be anxious. “Scratch that. Now I’m terrified.”

There’s a pair of silver and azure scaled wings with banded patterns of aqua, cerulean, and white feathers coming from his back, his sheets are a mess, and his heart rate is racing like it’s on a non-stop marathon. And those wings are decidedly attached to him. But can he move–

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His left wing relaxes a bit, and he can feel those two extra claws on the knuckle wiggle a little. He glances over to the other wing and relaxes that one, once he’s mapped the motion to his brain in some strange mental gymnastics. Then he stares at Julia. “Hi there. Can I ask you to politely remove your amazing figure off of me, before we need to have a frank discussion between the two of us? Because you do have me at a disadvantage here.” She laughs nervously and slowly lets go of his forearms.

“Holy shit, Drenar, you have wings, and you’re hitting on me? Which is refreshingly unlike you,” She finally pushes herself up into a kneeling position on the bed, and helps him up–very slowly. He scrapes one ‘knuckle’ on the ceiling, much to his annoyance before slowly testing the motion. It feels like it would be more comfortable if lowered. That is until Julia breaks his concentration while grinning wildly, and grabs one wing and his back, and presses her body against both. “Oh my fates, it's sooo soft!” she coos, and his expression melts into terror.

Oh no. This is how I’m gonna die. Death by Tsundere cuddles. He decides he’ll let her pin his wing in place–which he is still trying to map out how to move–for about a good five to ten seconds. “Oh my goodness, the rest of you hasn’t transformed, I mean uh, not like this, and I have a hundred different questions like, is it painful, did you even try to concentrate on this, what was it like–”

Drenar resolves the barrage of questions with a single finger to her nose, which is usually her mechanism to get his attention. “I think I need a minute.” She nods meekly.

“Okay, I get it. It’s bonkers.” He leans forward and moves his wing closer–the wingspan is impressive, and he estimates it reaches out to almost double his arm length. Probably close to three meters, for the full span. While he isn’t an expert, it means it could be possible to glide. Powered flight, maybe not so much. He notes his shirt is sporting two large holes where the wings emerged from, and his heart rate has slowed a little from earlier. “Um, well, how does it feel?” he glances at her, then at the wings that have slight motions of their own–semi-autonomous, even.

“It’s a little…um…surreal. Possibly awesome. Possibly terrifying that everything we thought was absolutely insane is coming true. Can you just pinch me really hard to affirm–ow,” he grunts when she jabs him in the ribs lightly. “I said pinch, not treat me like one of your training dummies.”

“Hey Drenar, you’re awake. And reality punches hard. So do I,” she affirms with a smirk, then she frowns as she traces his wing again. “Um, I just realized something really problematic about these wings. Going out in public like we planned today is out of the question.”

“Hey, guys, why is everyone up at six in the morning?” James is rapping at the door as loud as possible. “If we’re going to die doing something really stupid, can you two make out a little quieter, and maybe, just maybe, share some of the action with Angela, who is glaring at me like she’s going to put knives in my eyes?” James opens the door just as Julia and Drenar let out a startled protest.

James takes about three seconds of seeing this spectacle of Julia stroking Drenar’s wings, and his mouth hangs open for a second. “Okay. No. I’m out. This level of kinky is beyond me now, I’m done. You two finish your business and let me know when we’re ready to start our death wish mission.”

“James Victor Shalinde, we are not making out!” Drenar snaps. “I was just…apparently…thrashing around in my sleep, and Julia didn’t want me to hurt myself." Angela peers in, and she squeals in delight.

“Oh my goodness, he has wings! Whys’ the rest of him not transformed, I gotta see the rest!” she utters with enthusiasm. No one is respecting his personal space today, he thinks with a resigned sigh.

“We are not playing this game of ‘lets see the rest.’ This is a game only you two will win. And maybe James,” he adds with a shrug. James mutters something distinctly impolite under his breath. “Besides, we all know you have a thing for artwork and dragons Angie, but please, I was at best a solid six out of ten until about five minutes ago.”

“Four,” James mutters before getting smacked by Angela. “Oh, my opinion doesn't matter? Evan? How’d it go for you?” Evan had finally joined in, and grunted–possibly due to the premature wake-up call.

“It was scales, then claws, then there was a grand finale. But it wasn’t as dramatic as this. Wow Drenar, that’s kinda cool coloring. Azure and Maridian, if this book is right,” he says while holding Amaranth's book. He’s in better spirits now that they’ve formed a plan over the previous night. “Okay, this is probably going to happen within the next day or two. Your heart rate went sky high, right?”

“Yeah. And I had labored breathing,” Drenar adds. “How are we even going to get me into the mine now? I don’t think I can…well…let’s see.” He takes a moment to map out the motion, and shifts his wings. He manages to sort of drape them over his shoulders, and the claw-like knuckles rest comfortably on his shoulder. They are still visible, and they’re going to stay that way. “Yeah nah, we need to rethink this plan a little.”

James tries a different tack. “It’s gonna sound dumb, but…maybe if you could tuck those wings in and we could get you a trenchcoat, that could keep people from asking questions at a distance. The second you start getting any more draconic features, all bets are off.”

It's still painful the first time,” Evan reminds them. “I also started a small fire. Apparently I can emit embers of fire at will as part of my draconic heritage and you already saw the fiery rays at full power, and that can happen, uncontrolled the first time you transform. But the weird part is, I’ve got the frost breath of the Maridian silver. I’ll always have the ability to have a cold one,” he replies smugly.

“And a campfire for s’mores,” Julia chimes in with a laugh. “Are we seriously considering this though? I think it should just be me, Evan and Angela that go up there.”

“No. If we leave James’ weak ass here alone, and someone comes a-knocking, we really need to have a reserve team,” Drenar says firmly. He needs to address the attire first. “Angie, I need a favor. Grab that long sleeved shirt over there, cut a slit and a small hole for the wing joints. Then we’re just going to stitch in a couple flaps to keep me covered. At least after the second time I transform, I know my clothes won’t shred, and will just merge into my draconic form.”

“But what if I wanted to keep you clad just like this?” Her predatory grin is a little unnerving. “C’mon, let me have this awesome moment! I also need my tablet to sketch this–”

“No photos, remember?” Evan reminds her.

“A sketch doesn’t count. If anyone asks, I could just say it’s for my art work.” Julia nods, as does Evan. Drenar ran his fingers through his hair and sighs.

“Let’s just get this party started.” he says nothing else on the matter, but he is...flattered that she thinks he's image worthy.

“Are we…going armed?” Angela asked hesitantly.

“I think the whole point of this search is to not attract attention,” Julia counters. “Much as my mom has a literal walk-in armory at home, it's a bad idea. You don’t bring them if you don’t intend to use them, and my preference is to not start a body count.”

“Eh…that's a good point,” Angela concedes.

“I have no problems with a hunting dagger. It's a utility item,” Drenar opens his desk drawer and takes out his hunting dagger. The archaic one that his mother had given to him on his tenth birthday, and he pulls it out for a cursory inspection, like always. It's strange when he withdraws it, because he hears a faint ringing sound, maybe he hit the blade on the scabbard? It’s almost ten inches long, and has a straight, slightly tapered double-edge that came to an impossibly sharp point, and the metal is lustrous--almost like it’s giving off its own light. Drenar doesn't know where she had gotten it, certainly not at any hobby store, given its detailed metal etch work. The handle bears a banded, textured grip made of etched leather that seems to make it merely an extension of his arm when he holds it. It’s bite is sharp, and he knows how sharp it–

No. Damn it, no. Stay focused, Drenar thinks with fervor. He hadn't pulled it out in almost a year prior to last week, after his old fencing instructor passed away. He swears he hears a crystalline sound again when he puts it back in the sheath, and straps the holster on his thigh, and loops it through his jeans belt straps. The thought is already receding. Julia’s expression morphs into a more solemn one for a split second–no one else seems to notice, and he sees her shake her head ever so slightly.

“James, Evan, you’re the home team. We checked the radio, we should have enough range for mount Syren. I can’t guarantee it’ll get through the rock and stone, and cell phones don’t reach out that far. We’ve got the GoPro cameras, we’ll record data as soon as we get to the side. I already put in massive terabyte SD cards in and the batteries are charged, so we should have plenty of time for recording. Remember, we are recording locally only.”

“Got it. No uploads,” James sighs. “Stupid dragons and mages keeping magic under wraps for thousands of years.”

“James, we’re the backup team. We’re here in case anything goes wrong, and if anything does go wrong, Julia’s mom is on speed dial. I know it’s hard, but Drenar knows how to handle himself. So do Angela and Julia. This is a sneaking mission.” Evan peers out the darkened window. “Can we go over this after breakfast, and after some people here aren’t dressed in their nightwear?” he adds after a hesitant pause.

“What’s wrong Evan, never seen a girl before?” Julia asks with an evil laugh.

“Oh I have, but there’s just a hellcat occupying Drenar’s bed right now,” Evan retorts. “Also Tsundere, no more sleeping in Drenar’s room. I knew this was going to happen with you two in close proximity.”

“Ouch. Go get beat up by more mercenaries and get back to me.”