Pressed by the fear of being discovered and after an intense day of walking through meadows, small groves, fields, and the eventual ascension of a slope, interrupted only by a couple of necessary rests, at sunset, Olivia and Silas reached the summit of one of the hills surrounding the Blue Dragon Lake.

The sun, on its descent towards the horizon, painted the sky pink and scattered golden glints over the small huts of thatch and wood, which spread down the hillside until touching the lakeshore. Some were even located above the water, built on stilts.

That was the home of the Lake Tribe. Ordinary humans who had joined their lives to that of the Sirenians, magical beings of the water, who led a nomadic life governed by the cycle of the seasons. Each year, before the arrival of winter, with the consequent freezing of the lake, they would migrate to warmer waters beyond the Freedom Sea, and would not reappear until well after the thaw.

In the very center of the lake was a small, simple, unmarked promontory of rocks indicating the spot where, a millennium ago, the Blue Dragon had found his final resting place. His tomb was said to be deep within the lake and was in the custody of the Sirenians themselves and, in their absence, the human chiefs of each family that remained on land. Olivia could not imagine a way of life so different from the one she knew, with whole families separated for months at a time, perhaps living in fear of not being able to be reunited with a loved one at the arrival of spring.

From the deserted hill where they stood, Olivia and Silas could observe the movements of the human inhabitants, as well as several carts and carriages traveling along a dirt road, that, for safety's sake, they had been avoiding. By all accounts, their occupants were strangers from other parts of the kingdom, who shared the same desire to participate in the upcoming festival. Many had even set up camp in the surrounding grounds, so they found a large area littered with colorful tents, while several campfires began to burn between the hills and the lakeshore.

As the sky darkened, and the first stars began to appear, the small silhouettes of all those people became more cheerful. Several musicians had begun to play and sing by the light of the campfires, others were carrying barrels of wine and beer, and some couples were dancing around.

Olivia would have loved to participate in that collective joy, but she thought it best to spend the first night away from the crowd, out of sight, hidden by a pile of bushes. They went to sleep there. Silas, wrapped in his own fox tail and a blanket, a gift from the elves that Olivia, despite his protests, decided to share with him, while, lying on her back, she watched the stars that gradually grew darker as her tired eyes closed.

They woke up with the first sunbeams. Olivia had some muffins for breakfast, also a gift from the elves. Silas, like last time, decided that he would go on his own and look for her later. Olivia wasn't sure about the latter. She feared that he would decide to leave her without saying goodbye, and she would never see him again.

But he was free, she repeated to herself, he could do whatever he wanted without asking her.

Still, she couldn't help but remind him of what they had already been talking about the day before for quite a while as they walked to the lake:

“Don't go too far. The ceremony could happen at any time.”

“I'll keep an eye out.”

“I'm sure the Sirenians will be able to help you.”

“I'm not so sure...”

“Don't tell me...” she sighed. “The Sirenians are also enemies of the chimeras.”

He avoided her gaze.

“Actually... no, “he admitted. “But they've always been neutral. I don't know how much they can do.”

“If you decide to leave, you'll never know.”

“I won't leave...” he said, although his voice sounded evasive. “I have to take care of something first, though, it'll take a while.”

“Silas...”

“I can't show up in town as a fox," he growled. “It would attract too much attention. I don't want to go as a cat or mouse either, there might be pets that would want to chase me. When I get my new form, I'll come looking for you.”

“But what form...?” Olivia wanted to ask, but the fox ran off down the hillside, and disappeared from sight among the grass.

And so, Olivia found herself alone, and, to her surprise, with total freedom to go wherever she pleased, something unthinkable for her until then. She could not remember ever having found herself in a similar situation before, without counting all those days on the run with Silas. Although she had spent many hours alone in her room, in the library, and even exploring the secret passages, that was not the same. Now, disguised as an Acolyte, she had to behave like one and take the opportunity to wander through the little streets of that charming village.

In reality there were no streets. The wooden huts with thatched roofs were scattered everywhere, in a disorderly manner, separated by only a few meters from each other, sometimes by much less. It seemed that anyone could walk wherever they wanted without people feeling annoyed that they were trespassing on their property. Some people even bowed their heads as they watched her walk by, perhaps noticing the type of outfit she was wearing. No one had stopped her or questioned her presence.

Some homes had small vegetable gardens, others had simple potted plants on their porches, or even small chicken coops where chickens roamed free looking for something to eat. Seeing them, she wondered amused if Silas would not decide for that form, although she saw it as unlikely.

On the shore were piled fishing rods, nets, and boats that Olivia had seen sail out and return to land as the morning passed. Gazing at the crystalline surface of the water, she again met the reflection of her new face, and for a moment raised the collar of her robe to check the intensity of the glow emitted by the talisman. It was still as potent as at the beginning, though she wondered how long its effect would last.

As the morning progressed, the crowd gathered on the shore was increasing: merchants strolling along with their families, artisans who had taken advantage of the occasion to sell their goods, farmers arriving with their carts announcing the sale of fruits and vegetables, as well as several nobles in colorful clothes, some of whom were familiar to her, perhaps because they had visited Shadowrock at some point. Fortunately, she did not seem to see many wizards. Occasionally she crossed paths with another Acolyte, whom she tried to avoid by getting lost among the huts. She did not see any red-robed Masters.As for the villagers, it was very easy to tell them apart from the rest. Most of them had tanned skin. They wore simple clothes, mainly light-colored tunics and dresses, the length of which, in most cases, did not go beyond the knee, thus showing bare legs. Some elders, who appeared to occupy some position of authority, probably heads of the family, wore white clothes with light blue edges. Most of the villagers wore straw hats or headscarves to protect themselves from the sun, and all wore sandals. The temperature had been rising steadily, and several children had run down from the huts to dive into the water. Olivia, who was suffocating in her tunic, was envious of them.

Passing by a group of locals who were sorting the catch of the day, she overheard the conversation that one of them was having with one of the nobles. Feeling curious, she hid behind a huge rock embedded near the shore.

“Good morning,” greeted the nobleman, standing decisively in front of the fishermen.

“Good morning, sir,” politely replied a tanned, bare-chested boy, perhaps only a few years older than Olivia, who was busy untangling a net.

“I would like to request a visit to the Dragon Tomb.”

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

The same boy exchanged glances with the other four who accompanied him. Olivia caught a girl in the group biting her lips, as if repressing the temptation to laugh.

“Sir, I'm sorry to tell you,” excused the boy. “That won't be possible.”

“How so?” insisted the nobleman.

“The only way to reach the tomb is with the help of a sirenian.”

“Ah, I see,” the nobleman seemed to understand but then added. “Then I must await their arrival. Good day to you.”

“But...” added the boy before the nobleman started to retreat. “It isn't as simple as it sounds.”

“Well, of course, I imagine, I suppose it will have its price.”

“Nothing really, sir.”

“Are you telling me the sirenians do it for free?” the nobleman seemed as skeptical as he was delighted.

“We don't use money here,” interceded the same young woman who had almost laughed, although this time her voice sounded impatient. “The sirenians only take someone to visit the tomb when they have gained their trust.”

The nobleman wanted to know more and the girl, barely feigning reluctance, continued:

“In simple words... You need to befriend a sirenian, and see if he or she is willing to take you there.”

“How curious...” said the nobleman thoughtfully. “But, well, if those are the rules... So first I must wait for his arrival, then befriend him and convince him... How long would that take? I don't plan to stay more than two or three days.”

Another man, chuckling, jumped into the conversation.

“I'm not sure, sir, it depends on the sirenian you choose.”

“Can you recommend any particular sirenian?”

“I can't think of any in particular.”

The nobleman seemed to understand that he had reached a dead end.

“Thank you for the help,” he said, though not very willingly. “Perhaps I'd better go to one of your elders,” he turned away with the same arrogance with which he had arrived.

Once the nobleman was far away enough, the group let out a long row of laughter, although one of them did not miss the opportunity to complain:

“By the Dragon's fury! Every year it's the same! I'm tired of these people!”

“Don't let the Chiefs hear you. As hosts, we should be an example of cordiality,” said the girl, although with some mockery. This was followed by a series of jokes at the expense of the outsiders who visited the lake during the celebrations.

An old man in white and light blue robes passed by them.

“Brothers and sisters... let nothing cloud your joy. Tonight, after a long winter, we shall once again embrace our beloved ones.”

The group lowered their heads in respect, and continued with their work.

With that episode over, Olivia continued on her way wondering where she could get something to eat. It was already lunchtime. The smell of grilled fish was coming from some of the campfires, which caused her stomach to growl loudly. She only had two rolls and some mushrooms left, but she wished to have something more appetizing.

“Hey, hey!” she heard a child's voice shouting, but she paid no attention until he suddenly said, “Miss Acolyte, Miss Acolyte!”

It took Olivia a moment to realize that he was talking to her. Well, of course, if she was an Acolyte. She turned her head in all directions to make sure, but she was indeed the only one at that moment who could fit that description. She suddenly found herself face to face with a boy of about ten, wearing a green knee-lenght tunic, who was looking at her with worried eyes.

“Yes?” Olivia said.

“Can you come with me? My grandfather has something in his stomach! He feels terrible! He's lying on the floor!”

Olivia panicked as soon as she understood that he was expecting her to go heal his grandfather, but she had never come close to learning any healing methods. She barely had any notion of forest herbs that Barthra had once mentioned to her, but she hadn't paid any attention, and had forgotten everything she had told her.

“Please hurry!” the boy's voice sounded desperate and his eyes were wet.

Olivia, in order to calm him down, agreed to follow him. Maybe she could pretend a little and then excuse herself by saying she was a lousy Acolyte. Worst case scenario, she would run off, and briefly remove the talisman to mislead.

The boy rushed off, and Olivia was soon out of breath as they raced through the huts going round and round like a maze. Several times she nearly bumped into other people, whom the boy in front of her dodged with swift movements.

She did not think the place was so far away. The boy forced her to run until reaching one side of the lake, where there was a hut on stilts sunk in the water. The simple construction was no different from the rest, except that it appeared to be a little larger. They climbed up a long staircase to the inside, which consisted of nothing more than a large space with some pots and fishing tools piled in some corners.

In the middle of it lay an old man with an almost completely bald head and a gray beard that reached to the base of his neck. He didn't look very tall, but his scarred arms and legs gave evidence of a life of hard work. He was wearing a short-sleeved shirt, as well as knee-length pants, both of which were white. He was lying on his back with his hand on his stomach, and his eyes closed as if in pain.

“Grandpa!” the boy shouted to wake him up, although it seemed to Olivia that he was afraid he was dying.

The man sat up with fright.

“Zaagic! What happened?”

“I've brought some help!” his grandson exclaimed.

“Help?” asked the old man in confusion, and then began to study Olivia. “Ah... but... Zaagic! You little brat! What have you done? You brought me an Acolyte! It was no big deal! I even feel better now!”

“Grandma told me to take care of you, and not to listen when you say you're fine!” Zaagic protested.

“Your grandmother exaggerates as usual! And while she's not here, I'm the only one in charge!”

“Not for long!”

“You impertinent little bugger!” the old man picked up a sandal that had been left lying around, and threw it over the boy's head. “Go back to your parents! I don't want to see you until the party starts! And meanwhile, tell the other jokers to stop sending me annoying nobles who want to visit the tomb!”

Zaagic ran off the way he had come, and left Olivia in the awkward situation of not knowing whether to leave or stay, though she was relieved that the man didn't want her help, as seemed to be the case.

“Miss...” the man's breathing sounded agitated, perhaps as much from the pain in his stomach as from his displeasure. “Forgive my grandson, I am not as sick as he led you to believe. I don't need the services of any wizard. And, no disrespect intended, your methods have always seemed very rough to me.”

Still, the man continued to clutch his stomach, and continued to breathe slowly. Olivia looked around, and discovered some herbs hanging from a hook on the wall.

“I don't have to use magic,” she said. “Would you like me to make you some tea?”

The old man nodded gratefully, and Olivia set to work. She had spent many hours in the library with Eldrin, who was a huge tea lover, especially of the digestive tea he drank after his generous lunches.

She went out in search of hot water, which she got from a neighbor, and poured a cup for the old man, who luckily instructed her which herb he prefered, because she had no idea which would be the right one.

The man took the cup she offered him, and, after taking a few sips, he looked pleased.

“Thank you so much, you have been very kind, and I apologize again for all the trouble my grandson has caused you,” said the old man. “My name is Mantok Azuris.”

He stared at Olivia.

“Ah... my name... My name is Dahlia.”

It hadn't occurred to her to make up a name ahead of time, as she did not expect to make acquaintances with anyone either. The only name she had at hand was that of her paternal grandmother.

“Miss Acolyte... Dahlia...?”

“Dahlia Silas.”

Darn it. In the rush to choose a last name she had thought of her elusive traveling companion.

The man pondered that odd combination.

“Silas... interesting... I didn't know that it was also a family name.”

But the subject remained there, and luckily he made no mention of any legendary chimera.

Suddenly, a skinny man in baggy clothes and agitated, appeared in the doorway.

“Chief! Are you all right?”

The calmness of a few seconds ago abandoned Mantok.

“Yes, by the Dragon's fury! If you keep bothering me, I'm going to get sick again!”

“If something happens to you, just before the Return, Chief Thalassa will never forgive us, said the man not very convinced.

“I'm fine! Cannot you see there is an Acolyte here with me? She has helped me feel better.

The man's eyes widened, and he bowed deeply.

“Thank you so much, Miss Acolyte, thank you so much!”

“But I...” Olivia wanted to say that she had done almost nothing, but she didn't want to contradict the elder Mantok, who now happened to be none other than one of the Chiefs of the tribe. Of all the huts, she had just entered the one she shouldn't have.

Although, on second thought, perhaps he was the most suitable person to mediate with the sirenians, and thus help Silas.

“Well, you see, I'm much better, and all thanks to Miss Dahlia Silas, now go, and let her work in peace!”

“Yes, Chief, I won't bother you anymore! Thank you, Miss Silas, many, many, many thanks!”

The man turned to run away, scared off by the Chief's words, and almost fell head over heels when he tripped over a big, shaggy, coal-black dog that walked through the door, as if nothing happened, and sat down next to Olivia.

At first she thought it was the Chief's pet, but then he immediately asked:

“Magnificent animal, is it yours?”

Olivia turned her head to take a good look at the dog, which lay down on the ground, and wagged his tail lazily. He opened he jaws wide to let out a deep yawn, and, resting his head on his paws, gave Olivia a look that seemed to be a mixture of disgust and presumption.

Silas!

He was back sooner than she thought!

She smiled at the dog.

“Ah, yes, it's mine. His name is... Shadow.”

The dog wiggled his ears, as if pondering his new name, and finally let out a sigh, as if to imply that he thought it was acceptable.