The Consequences of Meeting a Dragon

Namyis tapped lightly on the door of Thenio's bedroom. "Is it okay if I come in?"

Eteon was sitting in a chair next to the bed, carving a piece of wood, but he looked up and nodded. "It's fine. There's a barrier around him."

"Good." Namyis walked into the room and held up the tray she was carrying to show him. "I brought you some dinner. Should I just put it on the table there?"

"Yes. Thank you."

She crossed the room and set the tray down on the table in front of the sofa. When she turned back around, Eteon's carving, his knife, and the cloth spread across his lap to catch the wood shavings had all mysteriously disappeared.

Did mythic agents use ordinary space pockets? Eteon didn't seem to be wearing any rings or bracelets, which were the items that human space pockets were most commonly attached to. Not that he couldn't be hiding it with an illusion or something.

But maybe he had a more advanced kind of storage device, like Brel's pocket world. Or maybe he simply magicked things in and out of existence, like he had with all those blueprints and diagrams he'd given the Royal Guard.

Namyis was curious, but she pushed those questions aside for now. "How is Thenio? He looks better than he did when we got him out of that Order base. He's got some color back in his face."

Eteon turned to look at the sleeping boy. There was a deep tenderness in his silvery blue eyes. "Having his magic circuit sealed was a bit hard on him. But yes, he's recovering well. He's just tired because of the high suppression he's under right now."

"Well, that's pretty normal in a place like this, isn't it? Is he sleeping deeply enough that it's safe to talk about last night?"

He looked back at her, his gaze becoming sharper. "Yes. It should be fine."

"Then how are your arms? They haven't healed up already, have they? That was a pretty bad case of poisoning you had. Even I would need to spend some time in the Poison Center after something like that."

Eteon regarded her silently for a moment. Then he sighed. "They still feel terrible, if you really want to know."

"Ah...my sympathies. Demon poison is awful stuff." Namyis grimaced. Then she took two envelopes out of her stasis pocket and held them out to him. "I don't know if this will make you feel any better, since I know you really did it to help Thenio, not the Magic Corps. But these are letters of thanks from General Obarin and Commander Myrel. They asked me to deliver them when they found out I was coming here this evening."

He looked a little surprised by that, but he took the letters from her.

"I wanted to thank you too." Namyis went on, giving him a warm smile. "Doing an emergency raid on a big facility like that, it wouldn't have been strange for us to lose a few people. But we didn't have a single fatality, and the information you gave us probably had a lot to do with that. I really don't like going to funerals.... So thank you for letting me avoid a few."

Eteon shook his head. "I should be the one thanking you." He looked at Thenio again. "I couldn't have saved him by myself."

There was an obvious note of frustration in his voice.

Namyis could understand it. She was probably nowhere near Eteon's level, but she was eighteenth on Kafron's official power ranking list. So she knew a little bit about feeling strong.

And how hard it was, once you got used to that feeling, to admit that there were still things you weren't strong enough to do.

"We're battlemages. That's our job," she said with a shrug. "We would have eventually had to raid that base, whether Thenio was involved or not. But because he was...I mean, I'm not saying it's a good thing that he was put in danger, of course. Just...well, I'm glad things turned out as well as they did. That's all." Namyis paused and then continued with a small smirk, "But while you're still feeling grateful...will you forgive me if I ask a nosy question?"

Eteon raised an eyebrow at her. Then he chuckled a little. "All right. Ask whatever you want. I can't guarantee an answer, but I promise I'll forgive you."

"That's good enough," Namyis said happily. "Then, are you really related to Yohlom?"

"Where did you hear that?"

"From Seyli. Though she really just told me your family name is Idarin. I'm the one that brought up Yohlom."

"I see. Yes, he and I are related. But not by blood. Yohlom is my...." Eteon hesitated, as though considering his choice of words. "I guess I could call him my foster son?"

Namyis' eyes widened. "Wow, really? You raised him?"

"Partly. He was seventeen when I met him, so there wasn't that much raising left to do. I suppose I've really been more of a mentor than a parent to him. And I know he doesn't think of me as his father.... But I took care of him for a while after he lost his family. And he eventually decided to start using my name, so he acknowledges that we have a connection, at least."

"Lost his family.... Were they killed by demons?"

"That's right." Eteon grimaced a little. "Well, he makes it pretty obvious, doesn't he? He might loathe demons even more than I do."

Namyis blinked. "Did you lose someone in a demon attack, too?"

She immediately regretted the question.

Eteon's eyes narrowed, and the air in the room suddenly felt dark and chilling. All of Namyis' combat instincts screamed that she was in danger, and she had to forcibly prevent herself from taking up a fighting stance.

Then it was gone. Everything was back to normal.

Eteon sighed and looked away. "I promised I'd forgive you for asking nosy questions, didn't I? I'm sorry. I forgot for a moment...."

There was a long silence.

"My son," Eteon said quietly. "Those monsters killed my son."

There was another silence.

"I'm sorry..." Namyis said in a small voice.

She didn't know what else to say. And she didn't really dare to say anything else anyway. Her arms were still covered in goosebumps from that terrifying aura.

She glanced over at Thenio, who was still sleeping peacefully, protected by a barrier and oblivious to the uncomfortable exchange that was happening next to him.

So that was why Eteon was so protective of the boy....

He couldn't stand the thought of losing another beloved child.

Namyis seemed unusually subdued when she came back from taking Eteon his tray of food.

The ever-sensitive Tava was the first to notice something was wrong. She looked up from the piece of mango she was eating and whimpered as Namyis approached the table.

Ariom looked over at the sound. Seeing Namyis' face, even he could tell that something had happened. She couldn't really go any paler, but her expression was a bit dazed, like she didn't quite know where she was or what she ought to do.

And this was a woman who had kept her head while Humerus was rampaging and the Royal Guard headquarters was being attacked. Anything that could send her into shock had to be pretty awful.

It wasn't hard to figure out what it was, though. She had just been talking to Eteon, after all.

"It's okay, Tava." Namyis gave the dragon a small, forced smile and bent down to stroke her back. "Thanks for worrying about me. But I'm really okay. I just...saw something scary. That's all."

"I told you that he was in a bad mood and you should be careful what you say," Brel said, watching her.

"I know. I wasn't trying to upset him." Namyis sighed. "I just wanted to ask how he's related to Yohlom. But it's hard to talk about Yohlom without talking about how much he hates demons, and Eteon mentioned that he really hates demons, too, and...." She trailed off, fidgeting with a strand of her hair.

Brel raised an eyebrow. "Let me guess...you made the mistake of asking him why he hates demons so much?"

"Well...yeah."

"Honestly...." Brel shook his head. "Well, don't fret over it too much. He wasn't really angry, if all he did was scare you a little."

"What would he have done to her if he were seriously angry?" Uncle Bero asked with a hint of trepidation.

Brel shrugged. "It depends. Dragged her into the dream world and trapped her in a nightmare for a few days, maybe? He almost never loses his temper to the point of actually attacking someone."

"Being trapped inside a nightmare sounds bad enough...." Namyis said with a shudder.

But Brel's reassurance seemed to cheer her up a little because her dazed expression faded. She patted Tava one more time and then went to sit in the empty chair between Brel and Seyli.

She was still quieter than usual as she started eating, but she gradually got involved with the conversation Uncle Bero and Seyli were having with Brel, about the different creatures that had lived in his former world. Naturally, they were both fascinated by the idea of an entire world full of animals and magic beasts that they'd never seen before.

By the time everyone had eaten their fill, Namyis seemed to be back to her usual, overly-enthusiastic self. After the leftovers were packed back away into her stasis pocket, she happily went with Seyli to go play with the dragons on the grass.

Ariom found himself feeling a little relieved.

Not that he was worried about her, of course.

It was just...seeing her look shocked and timid like that.... Well. It was kind of unsettling.

"Are we allowed to ask her what she learned from Eteon?" Uncle Bero asked Brel in a low voice, once the girls were out of earshot.

"Probably? I doubt he told her anything that he wouldn't tell the two of you. And it's not like we really want to keep secrets from you, you know? We just have to be careful because of Thenio. Well...there are also things Eteon doesn't like talking about, of course." Brel sighed. "But if it's about his relationship with Yohlom, I can tell you. Yohlom was one of only a few survivors of a city that was destroyed when the First Rift opened up. He lost his entire family. Eteon found him out in the Wastelands...no, it was really Essu who found him, I guess. But Eteon took care of him after that."

"Lost his whole family, huh...?" Uncle Bero's brow furrowed. "How old was he?"

"I don't remember exactly...but he was around Thenio's age. Maybe a little older."

"Did Eteon teach him necromancy, then?" Ariom asked.

It hadn't occurred to him that Eteon might be a necromancer, but it made sense, considering that Ki'shiu seemed to have assigned him to look after Thenio.

Brel shook his head. "Not exactly. Eteon helped him improve his skills, but Yohlom came from a clan of necromancers, so he already knew a lot, even at that age. And he managed to save quite a few of his family's books when he fled the city, so he mostly learned by studying them."

"Those must be some good books...." Ariom couldn't quite keep the envy out of his voice.

He'd always wished he could go back to the world of the past and copy some of the old magic clans' libraries. So much knowledge had been lost during the Great War and the Rift Crisis. And trying to recreate it by studying the remaining scraps was slow and frustrating.

Just lately he'd been particularly wishing he could get his hands on some Pre-War necromancy texts. Maybe, if Yohlom had a collection of them, and if Eteon had a good relationship with him....

"Don't go getting any ideas," Brel said warningly, as though he'd heard Ariom's thoughts. "Yohlom is extremely protective of his family's magic techniques. And unlike Eteon, it doesn't take much to provoke him into attacking. Everyone who's asked to see his library has regretted it."

Stingy old bone collector....

Ariom frowned. "Couldn't Eteon persuade him to show them to me?"

"Maybe. But you'd have to come up with a very good reason for it. Pre-War necromancy got into some pretty dangerous territory. The mythics would generally prefer for it to stay forgotten. You've heard stories about the kind of destruction the old necromancers could cause, haven't you? We've only let Yohlom keep using his White Army because he's so devoted to fighting demons and guarding the First Rift. If he ever turned his army on other humans...."

"I wouldn't ask to learn techniques like that. I don't care about skeletons!" Ariom paused and shot Uncle Bero an apologetic look. "Uh...war skeletons, I should say. Bone golems. I didn't mean that kind of skeletons."

Uncle Bero chuckled. "I get it. Go on. Did seeing that Old One's golems get your competitive spirit up, so you want to start studying necromancy again?"

"Well...a little," Ariom admitted. "But this is more about the original enchantment. The one I was supposed to be analyzing yesterday. I took on the job in the first place because I hoped that studying that enchantment might help me figure out a way to stabilize Thenio's magic circuit."

"Oh?" Brel raised his eyebrows. "How, exactly?"

"I haven't been able to work out the details. I don't have enough information yet. But what the Royal Guard originally showed me was a magic circuit enhancement technique. It's similar to the Kafron Magic Corps' Amplification Project, if you've ever heard of that."

Brel nodded. "I have. I remember Focilo was very unhappy with that program. It gave him quite a few extra patients to deal with."

"Right." Ariom cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Well...Thenio doesn't need to increase his magic power, of course. But the Order's version of the enchantment includes an extra matrix to protect and stabilize the magic circuit. That's the part I'm interested in."

"I think Ki'shiu has already tried something like that. He has access to even more information on necromancy than Yohlom does, you know."

"I know that. But...." Ariom hesitated, not sure how Brel would react to what he was about to say. Or Eteon, since there was a good chance he was listening in on the conversation. "What if the answer is hiding in Ki'shiu's blind spot?"

Brel frowned. "His blind spot? What do you mean?"

"Ki'shiu is vulnerable to demon poison, isn't he?"

Uncle Bero's eyes widened in surprise at Ariom's words. He knew Eteon had been poisoned, but he didn't know the details of how it had happened. Ariom had been sleeping until shortly before Garem and Thenio's family arrived, so he hadn't had a chance to tell his uncle everything yet.

But Brel stayed calm, although he was still frowning a little. "Yes, he is. From what you saw last night with Eteon, I suppose it wasn't too hard to figure out that it's dangerous to access information about demons using dream magic."

Ariom nodded. "Ki'shiu had already told me that it was dangerous for Thenio to learn about demons. And since Eteon got poisoned when he gave us information about the Order's base, I guessed that it must be dangerous for him and Ki'shiu, too. And Eteon told Thenio that demon magic distorts the order of the world and makes information difficult to read. So does that mean that Ki'shiu hasn't tried any methods of stabilizing chaos morphs that involve demon magic?"

Brel stared at him for a moment, his frown deepening. "No...he hasn't tried using demon magic, as far as I'm aware. But if you're suggesting that we deliberately poison Thenio...."

The look in his golden eyes was scary. And Ariom didn't even want to think about what expression Eteon might be making right now.

He hurriedly shook his head. "No, of course not. I'm talking about using purified demon magic. That's what the Order's power enhancement technique uses. The purified version is safe for humans, right? I know that doesn't necessarily mean it's safe for Thenio. We'd have to do a lot of careful testing before we put the full enchantment on him...assuming I can even design a functional enchantment in the first place.... But...well. I think the idea is worth looking into."

"Purified demon magic is extremely versatile," Uncle Bero said thoughtfully. "So using it to stabilize a magic circuit...hmm. I haven't worked with it enough to be sure, but I think it might be possible. The crystals are expensive, of course, and the Magic Corps doesn't sell them to just anyone. But you should be able to talk Kalion into giving you some."

"Purified demon magic, huh...?" Brel leaned back in his chair and stared up at the blue-tinted leaves rustling in the breeze over their heads. He looked deep in thought, and his ears were twitching. Maybe he was discussing the idea with Eteon.

That thought made Ariom feel a bit anxious. But he gradually relaxed again as the seconds ticked by and no angry woodcarver showed up to cart him off to a nightmare prison for his audacious suggestion.

He was glad he'd brought the idea up with Brel first, though, rather than telling Eteon about it directly. The Forest Man didn't seem to share his friend's habit of letting out terrifying waves of magic power when something upset him.

After what seemed like a very long silence, Brel finally sat up and looked at Ariom.

"Ki'shiu is willing to hear you out," he said. "He wants you to put together the research you've done so far and be prepared to explain what you have in mind. He's not trying to rush you, though. He knows you just went through a rough experience and need some time to recover. He's very grateful for what you did last night." Brel chuckled a little. "And he says that if your idea sounds promising enough, he'll gladly give you all the necromancy books in the world...plus a few other worlds, if need be."

Sorin sat on a large wooden crate in the shearing shed, watching as his brother Omian flipped one of the ewes in the holding pen onto her rump and dragged her out to where Papa was waiting with his big metal clippers. Omian had been allowed to practice shearing some of the younger sheep that morning. But now they were doing the older ones—the ones that grew the best wool—and Papa always did those.

Sorin wished he could help shear the sheep. Papa promised to teach him how to do it when he was older. But for now the adult sheep were bigger than he was, so all he could do was watch from the side.

He was still in a good mood, though. He had a comfortable cushion to sit on, a bag of dried fruit that Mama had given him for a snack, and his two favorite drakes keeping him company. And he loved watching how fast Papa could slide the shears through the wool, making the sheep's fleece fall off in a big sheet, like snow sliding off the barn roof on a sunny winter day.

Besides, Papa said he liked when Sorin watched them shear because the sheep were calmer and better behaved when he was around. Sorin wasn't sure if it was really true, but it made him happy when Papa told him that. He liked feeling useful.

Most of the time, he was much too small and sick to be useful to anyone. All he usually did was cause problems. Nobody ever got mad at him for it. But he wished he could be useful more often, like Omian was.

Papa finished with the ewe and set her back on her feet so she could run out the chute on the other side of the shed, which led to another pen where the sheep that had already been sheared were waiting to be taken back to their pasture. Then Calira gathered up the newly shorn fleece to carry it over to the skirting table, where she and another one of Mama's apprentices would pull off the extra dirty bits before they loaded it up to go over to Mama's workshop.

Papa's job was raising the sheep, and Mama's job was turning their wool into beautiful things. This place, the shearing shed, was where one job stopped and the other one started.

When the fleece was out of the way, Viana, Sorin's sister, swept up the loose pieces of wool with a long push broom. Then it was time for Omian to pull out another still-fluffy ewe.

Viana had turned fifteen last year, and she was going to leave the farm and go to magic school soon. She said she wanted to study enchanting like Mama. She could have left already, but she had decided to stay and help until the lambing and shearing seasons were over.

Sorin was half sad and half envious about Viana going away to school. He knew he would miss her, even though she promised to write to him every week. But magic school sounded like a lot of fun. Maybe even more fun than shearing sheep! He hoped he'd be able to go there someday, too.

After a few more sheep had their coats stripped off by Papa's shears, the holding pen was finally empty. Papa shooed the last ewe out through the chute and then looked at the clock hanging up on the wall.

"It's getting late. Let's call it quits for today. We'll do the last bunch tomorrow." Papa handed the shears to Omian. "Take care of these for me, will you? I'm going to take Sorin back to the house."

Omian took the shears over to the side of the shed to clean and oil them while Papa washed his hands and arms off with a little bit of water magic. Then he came over to the crate Sorin and the drakes were sitting on.

"Come on, little buddy," he said, turning around and bending forward so that Sorin could climb onto his back. "I'll give you a ride."

"Okay!" Sorin agreed happily. He got to his feet and then clambered up onto his father's broad back with practiced ease. It smelled like sweat and sheep, but Sorin didn't mind.

That was the smell of home.

Papa held Sorin's legs and lifted him up. As he started walking, Cloud and Pickles, the two drakes, jumped down and followed after them.

Cloud was the oldest drake on the farm and had long since retired from herding sheep with the others. Pickles was younger, but he'd gotten badly injured in a wolf attack a few years ago and still couldn't fly well, so he'd been retired early.

The two of them were supposed to guard the house, but mostly they guarded Sorin. During the day, they followed him everywhere, making sure he stayed away from dangerous places and nipping at the other drakes if they started playing too rough with him. At night, they took turns, one of them sleeping on his bed while the other one patrolled around the house.

And, of course, one of them would always run and get Mama or Papa whenever Sorin had an 'episode.'

Sorin looked around as they left the shearing shed. It was strange how the familiar farmyard could look so different when he was up high. He could see the tops of the bushes that grew next to the barn, which were usually out of sight above his head. And the walk from the shearing shed to the house, which normally seemed impossibly far with his short legs, seemed to take almost no time at all.

That was what Sorin liked best about riding on his father's back. He loved flying high up into the clouds and looking down at the ground below. Being that high always made everyday things seem so—

Wait. No. That was...wrong?

He blinked and looked around again, suddenly feeling confused. Flying? No, they weren't flying. Were they supposed to be flying? It felt like maybe they were....

No. Papa didn't take him flying. That's right. That was someone else.

It was....

It was....

Who was it?

He couldn't remember. Why couldn't he remember? It felt so important. He ought to remember....

The world around him was spinning, and he put his hands on his suddenly aching head as though to hold it still. He could feel something hot come alive and start to writhe around inside him.

Somewhere below him, he heard Cloud let out several sharp barks. Warning barks.

"Sorin!" As soon as the barks started, the man carrying him swung him down from his back, set him on the ground, and quickly began doing something with the leather straps he was wearing on his wrists. "Sorin, take a deep breath. Try to calm down. I'm increasing your suppression, okay? You'll feel better soon."

Sorin.

Sorin? Was that his name? Sorin.

No. That wasn't right. His name was.... It was....

Ten...Teno...Then...i...o....

Thenio.

His name was Thenio. And this was wrong. This place. The person in front of him. They were all wrong! He wasn't supposed to be here!

But...where was he supposed to be?

He couldn't remember....

The man kneeling in front of him finished what he was doing with the leather bands and gently pulled Thenio into his arms.

"It's okay, little buddy," he said softly, rubbing Thenio's back. "Everything's going to be okay."

Thenio's arms went limp, and his head fell forward to rest against the man's chest. He didn't know where he was or who this person was...but...he was suddenly so tired....

He closed his eyes.

"That's right. Just sleep a little bit. It's all right. You'll feel better when you wake up."

The man began rocking him slowly, lulling him toward sleep.

Just before everything faded away, Thenio heard one of the drakes whimper and felt a rough tongue start licking his cheek.

Thenio opened his eyes.

There was still something licking his cheek. His vision was blurry, but he could make out a purple shape next to him. He blinked a few times, and it sharpened into the form of a dragon.

"Tava?" he murmured sleepily.

The licking stopped, and Tava let out a couple of soft chirps.

"Ah...I'm sorry she woke you up," he heard Seyli's voice say in an apologetic tone. "You were getting restless, like you were having a bad dream, and she was worried about you."

Raising his head a little, Thenio saw that Seyli was standing near the foot of the bed. Eteon was sitting to the side, in the same place he'd been when Thenio had fallen asleep. They were both giving him slightly concerned looks.

Thenio sighed and lowered his head.

"It's okay," he said, reaching up to pat Tava. "You're right. I was having a bad dream. So thank you for waking me up."