Kassian almost winced at the description. Though he couldn’t understand her exact feeling, he knew what it was like to have a part of himself rot away, spoiled forever. He knew it could never be fully healed, but the rest of him would find a way to grow and to live with it. Of course, he could never say such a thing to Inara.
“This is going to work,” he said instead, his tone determined. “It has to.”
A flicker of a smile strained Inara’s face. “You are not the man who has plagued countless council meetings for the last two years.”
“Plagued?” he echoed with amusement. “I always thought my contributions were vital to The Rebellion’s morale.”
The two shared a quiet laugh before assigning shifts in which to sleep during the rest of the night. Kassian insisted on taking first watch to ensure that Inara did, indeed, get some much-needed sleep. And, not for the first time, the Keeper was pleasantly surprised to have enjoyed the company of another Galfrey.
Unfortunately, the next morning wasn’t so far away and, before he knew it, Kassian was being woken by a rough hand pressing into his chest. The Keeper opened his eyes to see Inara standing over him. He squinted his eyes in the light, dazed and confused as to why the sun was directly overhead.
“What’s wrong with the sun?” he asked, sitting himself up.
Inara raised an eyebrow. “It’s midday - the sun is right where it’s supposed to be.”
“Mid… Midday?” Kassian rubbed his eyes, his confusion no better off. “Why is it midday?”
“Why is water wet?” Inara asked with more wit than Kassian could conjure right then. “Why is the sky blue? Why is your breath so bad?” The Guardian shrugged. “It’s just the way of things.”
“You shouldn’t have let me sleep so long,” the Keeper said, choosing to ignore her remarks.
“Kassian.” Inara’s impatient tone stopped him from reaching for his waterskin.
Instead, he followed her gaze beyond their little camp and realised the Drakes were no longer standing like statues. “What’s happening?” Kassian rose to his feet as the Drakes broke their web.
“I think they’re finished,” Inara reasoned.
Kassian looked around in search of answers but it was chaos with so many Drakes now wandering between the trees. With Inara, he began to weave his way through to the heart of the clearing. Before they reached the centre, Adan’Karth emerged with a handful of Drakes at his back.
“What’s happening?” Kassian asked with urgency, painfully aware that they had now been away from The Moonlit Plains for four days. “You’ve been talking for an age,” he added with some exaggeration.
“There were many facets to be discussed,” Adan replied coolly. “Unfortunately,” he continued in a graver tone, “a general consensus could not be found.” The Drake turned to direct their attention to a dozen or so of his kind. They were walking away from the clearing and steadily vanishing into the forest.
“What do you mean?” the Keeper pressed.
“There are some among us,” Adan explained, “who do not wish to get involved in the wars of the realm. There are others who wish to take their chances in a world without magic.”
Inara looked back at those who were leaving. “They’re not coming with us?”
“They cannot be forced,” Adan’Karth stated. “This was always a choice.”
Kassian quickly scanned the Drakes who remained, though he couldn’t see them all to count their number. “Are there enough? Can you save the tree?”
“Even if we were twice what we are,” Adan said, “I still could not answer that question. I only know seven-hundred and thirteen of us wish to try.”
Kassian wanted to voice his concern that seven-hundred and thirteen would not be enough, but he reminded himself what sacrifice those Drakes were making. With that in mind, the Keeper bowed his head out of respect for them.
“History will not forget you,” Inara declared. “Any of you. I won’t allow it.”
“Nor shall I,” Kassian promised.
“The future is our concern,” Adan replied, “not history. We will do all that we can to ensure there is one.”
Inara bowed her head as Kassian had. “We should make for The Moonlit Plains immediately,” she urged. “It’s a four day journey on foot and time is against us.”
Adan’Karth surveyed his kin before meeting the Guardian’s eyes again. “We are ready.”
By the time they reached the streets of Vangarth, the last rays of light were gracing The Evermoore. Naturally, Kassian looked up to spot Athis in the sky, but there was no sign of the dragon. Inara’s words came back to him and made all the more sense when he finally laid eyes on the dragon. Kassian would never have described Athis as small, yet he did not hold himself to the size the Keeper recalled from only days previously.
Standing in the road, by the town’s southern edge, his horned head was bowed, his wings tucked in, and his tail curled to line up with his body. Even the red of his scales appeared dull compared to Kassian’s memory of him.
Leading the procession of Drakes, Kassian came face to face with Athis first. Of all the dragon’s features, his blue eyes - sapphires cut with a slit of black - had always stood out, imprinting on the memories of any who looked upon him. Now they were darker, absent their usual intensity.
Inara reached out to run her hand along the edge of his mouth. “We’re going to make it,” she said. The dragon’s only response was to turn around and start down the southern road.
Governor Harlan appeared with a small entourage of high borns and guards. “Guardian?” he enquired with a curious look down the line of Drakes.
“Our business in The Evermoore is concluded,” Inara told him without explaining the Drakes’ presence. “We will return to the plains at once.”
“Very good,” the governor replied. “I am glad
