Had Asher been a scholar, he was sure such information would have invigorated him. Since he hunted monsters by trade and his companion’s life hung in the balance, he didn’t care at all. “Did it tell you how to save it?”
“No,” Adan reported, robbing the tent of hope. “Though I believe there is a way.”
All eyes returned to the Drake, hungry for more. “You would keep it a secret?” Asher contested.
“I have been considering that,” Adan revealed, taking everyone by surprise.
Asher glanced at Avandriell before focusing on Adan. “Why would you keep it a secret? You know what’s at risk.”
“Because if I am right, saving the realm of magic will come at a great cost.” Tears welled in his exquisite eyes. “And I do not know if I can bear it,” he added.
“Whatever the cost,” Inara said, “it must be paid, Adan. Without magic on our side, this war is as good as lost. Whatever the future may be, it will rest under the shadow of Malliath.”
Adan’s head bowed and he clenched his bark-like hand. “The tree meant me no ill will; it was barely aware of my consciousness. It could only sense the magic that dwelled within me. When I touched it…” The Drake rubbed his thumb over his finger, feeling the grooves in the bark. “It naturally tried to take my magic,” he finally said.
“Take your magic?” Reyna’s concern was well-founded given her past.
Adan furrowed his brow. “Perhaps take is the wrong word. Take back would be more appropriate. The tree emits so much magic that it cares little for that which bleeds across the realms. Nor does it care that conduits in our world harness that excess magic. Touching the tree, however, allowed it to bond with my magic and, I have to say, it felt as if my magic wanted to return. That’s why it hurt so much; because I was resisting.”
“I did not experience this,” Inara told him.
“I do not mean to offend,” Adan said, “but your magic is… quieter than mine.”
Inara didn’t hide her look of surprise. “Quieter? There is no offence, Adan, but I am bonded to a dragon; surely there is nothing quiet about my magic.”
“And yet the tree could not sense you,” the Drake pointed out. “To the tree’s perspective, you are of no consequence. As would be any elf or human mage.”
Asher took a breath and fell back on his years of mental discipline to remain calm. “What are you saying?” he probed.
“The tree has lost magic,” Adan declared simply. “Being the source, it has nowhere else to draw upon. We need to replenish it.”
The revelation dawned on Asher, striking him a blow he had not expected. “It needs you,” he uttered, looking again at Adan’s hand.
“No,” the Drake answered, shaking his head. “Were it so simple, I would gladly become one with the tree so that it might live on.” Adan’Karth steadied himself and raised his chin. “It will need every Drake in the land.”
Asher stepped back and turned away from the group, so as to hide his dismay. There would be no saving the tree now. Avandriell’s death was assured.
“You are certain of this?” Vighon asked, the first to find words in light of the news.
Adan looked away for a moment, consulting his own thoughts. “I cannot assure the tree’s survival, but there is no greater source of magic in all of Verda than that which resides in my people. And, besides our magic, I believe a degree of conscious thought will be required to direct our magic to extinguishing the flames. Being part elf and dragon, your Grace, I feel my people possess a sharp enough mind to do so.”
Kassian’s head dropped to his chest. “This is folly.”
“Perhaps we should consider findin’ Alijah,” Doran suggested carefully. “If we are to fight ’im, we should do it now, while we ’ave the firepower,” he added, thumbing at Inara and Gideon.
“We could track the Reavers,” Nathaniel mused, his tone suggesting he had little fight in him. “Their numbers should leave quite the trail - we just have to hope they return to Alijah.”
When Asher finally turned back, he could see the heartache experienced by both Inara and Gideon. They would lose companions they had been bonded with for decades, a pain magnitudes beyond his own.
“Keep the hope alive,” Adan’Karth asserted, glancing at Inara. “All is not lost.”
“Not yet,” Kassian reminded him, his arms folded tightly across his chest.
“I will speak to my people,” Adan continued. “I believe their choices to be simple: give up this life and save magic or do nothing and die with it.”
“We don’t know that for sure,” Kassian told him. “You could very well survive it.”
“Even if we survive,” Adan countered gently, “half of what makes us who we are is certain to die. I would not know how to live without magic.”
Asher consciously relaxed the tension in his jaw. “There must be some other way,” he appealed. “The price is too high.”
Adan gave the ranger a warm smile. “There is no death in the realm of magic. Only an outpouring of life.”
“Tell that to yer hand, laddy,” Doran remarked.
“It would not be the life you know,” Adan went on. “We would be in the very currents of magic that we see around us.”
“That’s not life,” Asher countered. “This is life. I will not let you give it up - magic or no magic.”
Adan reached out and put one hand to Asher’s chest. “Perhaps this is why we are here.”
Heated debates, long discussions, and deep conversations dominated the rest of the day. The council had gone round in circles, off on tangents, and struck dead ends that threatened to raise tempers again.
The council had finally parted ways after nightfall, each seeking refuge from the end of the world. Asher was exhausted, a state brought on by frustration
