“You said it yourself; you tried to rebuild an order designed by elves for elves. The Dragorn was never meant for humans. And when Elandril started the order, he was closing in on five hundred years. You don’t even have a century to your name yet. You’re too hard on yourself. What really matters is the cause of all the strife you put yourself through - you just want to protect people. I can see that hasn’t changed in you, nor in Ilargo. And like Asher said: you always get back up. He believes that’s what makes you dangerous but he’s wrong. That’s what makes you wiser. This isn’t some fairy tale, Gideon. This is real life. When we fall, we pick ourselves back up and try again. There are none in the realm with your experience or better prepared to find Riders for those eggs.”
Gideon couldn’t help but get carried away in Inara’s speech. “It would certainly take longer. Those eggs will only respond to a particular kind of warrior and they aren’t in abundance.” He shook his head in a bid to rid himself of the fantasy. “No. I had my chance at it all. Now there’s blood on my hands. I don’t deserve a second opportunity.”
Inara held her tongue for the moment and stoked the fire. “The world is going to need some hope to cling to, something to assure it that evil will never return. Dragon Riders have ever been that promise, whatever form they took.” She leaned forward. “It’s because of your past, because of your failures that you are the leader Drakanan needs. You could build something new that bridges both orders.”
Gideon smiled weakly. “I think the world is going to have all the hope it needs in you… and Vighon.” Inara’s eyes flicked up from the flames and fixed on the old master. “So there is something there,” he concluded. “I thought so but I wasn’t sure.”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Inara said, in a clipped tone.
Gideon held up his hands. “I’m happy for you both. I’m glad you’re coming to terms with your bond; you’re doing better than I am and I have a few years on you. My emotions were pretty focused while I was imprisoned but, since you rescued me, I’ve struggled to understand my own mind. I feel like I’m back in my first year at Korkanath.”
“You’re struggling too?” Inara asked in disbelief.
“Of course! I’ve always known I was Gideon Thorn, Master Dragorn. Now I’m just a man with greying hair and the emotional control of a young teenager. Did you know your mother is very attractive?”
Inara put a hand up. “There is a line, and you just crossed it.”
Gideon laughed. “I apologise. I’ve known Reyna for decades and never once considered her appearance. And that’s just some of it. I get angry over small things and upset over nothing. I have thoughts that I want to keep to myself and not share with Ilargo. I know he is the same.”
Inara looked confused. “I haven’t seen any of this since we left The Tower of Jain.”
Gideon shrugged. “I still have my decorum to fall back on. We’ve also been dealing with the end of the world as we know it.”
Inara gave a soft laugh that never made it over the sound of the flames. “Well, it’s nice to know I’m not alone.”
Gideon smiled. “I don’t think you’ll ever be alone, Inara Galfrey.”
The Guardian bit her lip and frowned. “We both have to survive first, Vighon and I.”
The old master could see that it was hard for her to talk so openly about it. “You’ve both forged futures through the darkest of times. You will again.”
A look of deep sorrow shadowed Inara’s features. “It’s hard to see that future when it lies on the other side of killing my brother. If that’s even possible.”
Inara’s words set off a chain reaction in Gideon’s mind, taking him down a path he had tried to take before, in the halls of Drakanan. “Do you recall, before we discovered the bonding chamber, I was telling you about—”
“Your last conversation with Alijah,” Inara cut in, eagerly. “You said it was your worst argument. Something about The Crow.”
“Yes. As I said in Drakanan, I had a lot of time to think. The one thing that kept coming back to me was The Crow’s part in all this. One day, I decided to voice my opinion to Alijah. He took it badly and he made Ilargo suffer for it. The next time I saw him was two days ago.”
Inara tilted her head. “What burdened you so much that you felt the need to discuss it with Alijah?”
“I think a part of me wanted to anger him,” Gideon confided, “to make him feel small and used.”
Inara narrowed her eyes. “Tell me, Gideon.”
The old master adjusted his position on the ground, allowing him to better see her across the flames. “I think The Crow lied to us.”
“About what?”
“Well, maybe lied is too strong a word. I believe he was hiding the truth behind the truth.”
Inara raised an eyebrow. “Now you’re making about as much sense as The Crow himself.”
“What was the last thing he ever said?” Gideon asked, already aware of the answer.
“Monsters only beget monsters,” Inara replied flatly. “I spent years pondering over what he meant,” she admitted. “Then Alijah invaded and I saw the monster for myself.”
Gideon disagreed. “But that doesn’t make sense,” he argued. “Sarkas claimed to have seen a future where peace existed across all of Verda. He went to great lengths to ensure Alijah became the king he is right now, including the orchestration of events that brought him and
