Sleep didn't come easy that night, but it somehow didn't prevent me from feeling brisk and ready to act once morning came. Was it the perspective of the imminent and probably decisive clash with Sharish, or the fact that my torture was about to come to an end, in one way or another...? It didn't really matter anymore.

  I suffered a small shock when I glided down to the camp.

  Dozens of exceptionally big terhials slithered between the busy soldiers, looking like flowers on a rocky slope against the grey mass of armors. There were also other, even more fascinating creatures which Yasenka called nithiels. Half-human hybrids, their bodies from the waist down resembling thick snake tails covered in fine scales in the colors of the forest bed. They carried bows, leather straps of quivers running across their naked torsos.

  They, just like the people of Earlindon, were all casting worried glances towards the mist that clung to the base of the Ethir ridge. Most of them tried to hide the nervousness, but the emotions were perceptible and contagious, causing the horses to uneasily stomp the soft ground.

  The campsite was gone in just half an hour and the soldiers lined up in moon-shaped rows, awaiting orders. I climbed onto the boulder that I was sitting on the previous evening. Yasenka stood at my side, clad in a comfortable, deep-green leather armor, a longbow swung over her shoulder. When Armailith sat behind our backs, I took a deep, calming breath. I didn't want to look terrified or hesitant. The people who trusted me this much had the right to feel confident. I straightened my back, allowing my wings to add to my presence.

  "I don't have much to tell you, you know what the stakes are..." I started. "Climbing to the Shinestone stronghold makes no sense, it would only exhaust you, and a battle in the limited space of the valley wouldn't be exactly advantageous to us either. I will fly over and provoke them to come down. There is just something I want you all to keep in mind during this battle," I lifted my head slightly. "You are not fighting for me, neither are you fighting for the royal family or the Disciples of the Last Dragons... You are fighting for your land, for Earlindon, and for your right to live here that was gained by an alliance, not by war. A sword is not something glorious because it's shiny and sharp, just like an arrow does not deserve admiration because it swiftly reaches its target... They are something extraordinary only if they protect something we love, because they prevent further suffering and are clearing the path to better times."

  Several approving shouts came in response.

  I was about to hop down, when Yasenka made a few steps forward and turned to face me, a small but proud smile on her own. Suddenly, a long object tucked in navy-blue fabric appeared in her hands. I raised my eyebrows in confusion.

  "You cannot go into this kind of battle without a proper weapon that you call your own, can you?" she said, already unwrapping the velvet. Before I could ask anything, she held her hands out, bowing her head.

  A sword rested in her palms, hidden in a sheath made from black leather and adorned with some dark blue stones I didn't recognize. The handle and guard looked simple, though something struck me as odd about them. My mind was a little too taken by surprise at that moment though. "What in the world...?"

  She lifted her head again. "Kristya spent a few weeks under the watchful eye of an elven blacksmith here in the Silivren Forest..." she whispered, taking advantage of the fact that the first few rows of the crowd consisted of terhials, not allowing her voice to carry all the way to where the humans were standing. "They worked on it for a long time and send their apologies for not being able to take part in the battle..."

  An involuntary smile sneaked its way onto my face. So that's why they got so friendly with each other... Kristya wanted to watch my back even when far apart...

  "You don't seem very surprised," Yasenka sounded amused. "Did you know they're living here?"

  "Maybe I did," I didn't want to betray the part Ertralia played in it, so I quickly added: "I'm guessing they're so little in number now that they decided to stay out of it?"

  "There are quite a lot of them, actually, just not in our forest. And there's still aversion towards the mages glowing in their hearts, for letting humans into Earlindon and for what Ered did to the dragons... Still, they prefer to pluck the strings of their instruments now, rather than bowstrings. They believe that a war is not the way to solve this. A war is a way to make it worse... I agree with them, but at this stage..."

  "I wish we didn't have to as well..." I glanced at the sword again, hesitant to take it.

  Of course, Yasenka sensed it and looked me in the eyes. "My bow is made of red alder..." she said calmly, allowing herself to speak louder now, for everyone to hear. "This tree symbolizes confidence and the determination to protect. I will wield it with those feelings today, to show that 'Empress' is not just a mere title that someone gave to me and which I never lived up to." A few sounds of surprise echoed behind her back, which she ignored. "This sword can be the same to you..." she gave me a small, confederate smile, her expression one of trust. "Lead us. Just this once, to victory."

  The air got saturated with anticipation as the soldiers kept their rounded eyes on us. I finally reached out, took the graceful grip covered in black leather and drew it.

  The blade itself had the same color as the stones that decorated the sheath, just much paler, like a faded night sky, a small image of a dragon in flight engraved at the very base of it. Speaking of dragons, there was a scale carved out by the hand guard... no, not carved out. I've seen the shape before. It was an actual scale, one of the dragon scales that we found in the underground of the Siracel temple, the darkest of the bunch. The blade's surface was flawless, the reflection of the sun revealing a deeper blue, a shade I've never seen before, making me puzzled about how it was even possible. The sword wasn't too heavy, nor was it too light, fitting perfectly into my palm. And of course, I sensed a tiny hint of magic in it... which flowed from the grip through my fingers, longing to know its new master and filling me with new energy. I lifted the blade above my head and yelled:

  "To victory!"

  "To victory!" answered hundreds of masculine voices and one cheerful, feminine at my side so loudly that they could probably be heard in the Shinestone stronghold. Armailith stood up on her rear legs, spread her mighty wings and belched fire above our heads, towards the sky.

  I jumped down and turned to Yasenka. "Lead them closer to the mountains. There are troops heading this way from Saille, fly over and point them in the right direction as well, so you can all meet in one spot. And you..." I gave Armailith a small smile, "come with me please."

  I saw a glimmer of fervor in her molten eyes before I shot up into the sky, heading for the sharp peaks.

  Once there, Armailith crouched at the base of the ridge while I ascended higher and hid among the rocks to have a look at the valley. To my surprise, I saw Sharish on one of his ansirths, accompanied by a few dozen kanh, fully armed, saddling more beasts. We knew they were planning to go somewhere, but the timing was a little too perfect...

  Choosing to ignore it for a moment, I left my hiding spot, allowing a ray of sun, reflected by my sword, to catch the attention of the mage and his guard. "Going somewhere, Sharish?!" I shouted when some of them turned their heads to look for the source.

  I saw the grimace of rage on his face even from such distance. Sharish brought his ansirth into the air and came closer, but only so much that we could talk at ease.

  "So it was you!" he accused me straight away. "You took the shard, didn't you?!"

  "Shard?" I didn't need to fake the surprise, because it kicked in quicker than the realization. Did that female figure that headed for Shinestone take a shard of the Ilmerast from him...?

  Many thoughts started to swirl in my head at once. Neither the patrolling kanh, nor any of the ansirths paid attention to her when she left, so she must have been their ally, or at least a neutral party. Why would she betray them? For the shard's power? But then why take only one if Sharish had two?

  "I will crush all three of you for that," the mage cut my musings short. "And the people of Earlindon will be buried under the ruins of the filthy cities they built with their own hands."

  "The people of Earlindon," I interrupted calmly, "are standing on your doorstep. If you surrender and give up the shard of the Ilmerast you're still hiding, we will retreat and no one will come to harm. But if you resist... we will take it by force."

  There was a brief flash of surprise on Sharish's face as he threw a short look towards the Serelath Valley. But then he just laughed out loud. "Them?" he spat out with disdain. "Don't be silly, Sigrian. What can they do? You forget that getting close to your enemy makes it possible for their fangs to also reach you..."

  "Your elves are dangerous warriors, but they are creatures of darkness. Are you sure they will manage in open battle? Besides... humans alone might stand no chance against you, but they have the Disciples of the Last Dragons on their side, along with a host of creatures from the Silivren Forest. And there is someone else still who would like to get even with you..."

  The moment my words dispersed in the mountain air, Armailith shot up from behind the hill I had in my back. She landed on the rocks with a thud that shook the whole valley and roared so deafeningly that the Shinestone stronghold vibrated down to its very substructure.

  The kanh that were waiting on the ansirths below almost scattered in panic. Through some miracle, they stopped the beasts from fleeing, but backed away towards the walls of the stronghold, herded together. The beast Sharish was sitting on clearly wanted to run for its life as well, but the mage yanked it back with a sharp pull of the reins. He was looking at the dragoness with a mixture of bewilderment and heavenly awe on his face.

  "So this is why my ansirths didn't return from the Dragon Mountains..." his voice was quiet, but gave away the growing excitement. "A real dragon... alive, mighty..."

  He watched her for a while, his eyes sparkling, and it seemed like he was arranging his next words in his head. Armailith tactfully waited until he was done being amazed, and just when he opened his mouth again, she immediately cooled him down:

  "Don't bother, Sharish Caydranth," she looked down at him, belligerently curving her powerful wings. "I know what you will say, and I will tell you now that I won't be idly watching you any longer. Your intentions are irrelevant to me. You think you are any better than all the human beings that will try to stop you today? Do you think your body will give the flame a different color when I burn you alive? Letting you live is like betraying the memory of hundreds of your victims. The victims also being the kanh and ansirths who die today, even though they don't have to. A follower is never innocent unless brainwashed, but if it weren't for you, they wouldn't be here now. Your hand caused too many of such tragedies already, just like the hand of your ancestor murdered the father of my children, and it's a villainy that I will never forgive."

  All that escaped Sharish was a silent growl. I craned my neck to look at the dragoness. "You didn't tell me about that..."

  "There are many things you don't yet know, Sigrian, and some of them you would rather not know," her scales flickered in the sun, mirroring the rage that was boiling inside her chest.

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  I turned back to Sharish. "Well?"

  The mage's answer was a sneer. "You really think you have any chance against me? My soldiers will slaughter them before they can even try to stop me..."

  A short shout in the language of kanh, and a few of the elves below jumped off the ansirths and ran into the stronghold. It didn't even take a minute before other kanh, syards and ansirths started to emerge from the ruins and the dungeon below.

  "It looks like we're in for it now," I said to Armailith, calmly watching the troops organize at the bottom of the valley.

  "I think I like it..." she hissed, impatiently swinging her massive tail.

  The ansirths with armed kanh on their backs soon ascended into the air and rushed towards the Serelath Valley, while the rest of the elves headed for the mountain pass, accompanied by the syards.

  Sharish gave us a cynical smile. "Let's see how long they will last before starting to beg for mercy. I'll remind them they're only humans..."

  He wanted to follow his subordinates, when a tall circle of bright flames suddenly surrounded him and his beast. "Why the hurry?" I enjoyed the surprise on his face as I lowered my hand again. "Maybe you can stay a little longer, because I'm not going anywhere."

  "I'll leave him to you for now, they will need me more at the start," Armailith turned towards the Serelath Valley, spreading her wings. "Try not to kill him."

  I nodded, not turning my eyes away from the mage. "Oh no, he needs to understand what he's done wrong, and he won't be able to if he's dead..."

  I waited until the dragoness flew away and only then called my fire back. Sharish unhurriedly landed his ansirth on the rocks and dismounted. "What do you want?"

  I clenched my fingers more steadily around the grip of my sword. "You know far too well what I want."

  Sharish looked me in the eyes in silence for a good few moments. A solitary thunder reached us, though muffled, as if it was coming from another world.

  "I don't understand you. You have such potential... The sight of that dark side, that creature lurking behind those brilliant eyes was invigorating and disturbing at the same time. It's also fascinating how your kindness can transform into murderous intent as soon as you have someone to protect. But all of that is not necessary... If we joined forces, you and your friends would have nothing to fear from me..."

  "Why do you insist on having us at your side so much? You already have an army strong enough to take Earlindon back."

  "What I want from you can't be bought with money like a soldier's services. You still don't understand that I want to protect you."

  "You'd be protecting our bodies, yes. But tell me, what is more important, the ability to flap our wings or our mind's ability to soar?"

  Sharish sighed softly. Softer than I would have expected. "I'm wasting my time here..."

  I raised my blade, pointing it at his chest, but I did it slowly. I didn't want to threaten, rather ask one last time. "And mine as well, unfortunately. I know all of this is not a wish that comes from your conviction by now, rather from obligation. Still, I cannot turn a blind eye on how twisted the path is that you chose to follow. Knowing hatred goes hand in hand with knowing suffering..."

  Sharish finally drew his sword. "You understand that just as well as I do... so I guess you'll forgive me for not holding back."

  And he darted towards me before I could blink.

  Only slightly startled by that attack, I parried the strike and swung myself. But Sharish deftly deflected my blade, sending a spray of sparks around and forcing me to dodge to evade a flat cut from the right.

  He then stepped back briefly, probably to rethink his approach, not taking his eyes away from me for even a second. "I guess I will have to put in a little more effort than I thought."

  "Maybe you should've kept a better eye on your employees," I threw back. "Then you would've noticed Canidralth's little prank earlier and I wouldn't have spent two years studying swordplay under the watchful eye of the best knights in the kingdom..."

  "You're really asking for it..." the mage growled at me.

  "Let that be my concern."

  This time, I was the first to leap forwards, but Sharish blocked me with just one hand. I was prepared for it.

  Summoning fire, I let the flames surround my blade, almost bringing the dragon engraved on it to life. It made Sharish lose focus for but a fraction of a second, but I took advantage of it mercilessly. I struck once, short and swift just like Light taught me, and the mage's weapon flashed gold from the reflected flames before it fell into the valley and vanished from our sight. I pointed my blade straight at his heart again.

  "You're making the same mistake as the humans whom you so desperately want to be rid of," I said, watching Sharish follow his weapon with his gaze. "You contemn those who cannot be of use to you, but you gain respect when it turns out they're able to thwart your plans..." The mage threw me a furious glance. He didn't answer, so I continued: "Please surrender. I really don't want to spill blood unnecessarily..."

  I didn't finish. A sudden pain struck my forearm as if someone hit it with a red-hot poker. My sword slipped out of my hand against my will and I took a few steps back, my flames vanishing.

  "I have a feeling you're forgetting who you're dealing with, dear Sigrian," Sharish shoved the blade away from his path as he walked towards me. "Magic isn't a power to be underestimated, I thought you already knew that..."

  I quickly pulled my sleeve up. There wasn't a faintest mark on my skin, and the pain was slowly fading... Trying to calm my breath, I lifted my hand, ready to continue. The lack of a sword didn't bother me that much.

  "I wouldn't do that if I were you," Sharish smiled upon seeing the motion. When I frowned, he gestured somewhere up with a bob of his head.

  I looked over my shoulder, at the rocks towering behind my back. On top of them stood an ansirth, bristled and ready to leap on a command from its master. It must have sneaked around while I was occupied with Sharish...

  ... who instantly took advantage of that unguarded moment. Before I could even come up with some plan that could bring me out of this mess, the mage's fist was suddenly in my stomach, knocking my air out, and his other hand instantly caught my wrist, pinning me to the rocks. I let out a small cry when the back of my head hit the hard surface, the protruding stones grazing the sensitive surface of my wings. I wanted to wrench free, but suddenly felt Sharish sliding the knife I carried at my belt out of its sheath and putting it to my throat. I froze. One of my hands was still free, but I didn't dare to move an inch.

  "Say..." the mage caressed my neck with the blade, "why is such an extraordinary creature like you equally stupid to a common human...?" My only answer was a small whimper, so he continued: "You admitted yourself that you might be the one who's wrong... If you win today, Earlindon won't really profit from it. Humans will destroy it sooner or later. This isn't a fight between good and evil, dear Sigrian. It's a fight between two kinds of evil."

  "Humans can still be yanked onto the correct path..." I tried. "There's a chance that today's battle will make them see their own actions from a different perspective... but if we allow you to be victorious, everything will end here and now, with no hope for the future..."

  "Ah yes, everything can always end so abruptly..." Sharish's tone was so carefree as I felt the blade cut through the skin of my neck, warm blood starting to flow down and soak into the fabric of my tunic. I squeezed my eyes shut, my breath becoming hasty and shallow. There was a short moment of silence. "I heard that dragon blood has a very fiery aftertaste... I wonder if yours became like that too."

  "You're sick..." I whined, not opening my eyes, foolishly trying to drive him away with sheer willpower.

  The only thing I achieved was a mocking snort as a response. "Oh believe me, you're not the first one to tell me this."

  There was an idea for buying time sprouting in my head, but it suddenly fled to the dark nooks of my mind from an ear-piercing bang that came from above our heads, followed by a roar of the ansirth. Sharish's head snapped up, the mage clearly annoyed by the disturbance. I didn't need to be asked twice.

  One of his hands was still pinning mine to the rock with way more strength than was necessary, so I lifted my legs and kicked him in the gut with all I had. Sharish let go instantly, the blade he was holding sliding down my neck, cutting deeper, and the rocks behind my back scraping it and my wings even more as I fell to the ground. I quickly reached for the bleeding spot, my hand immediately getting covered by the warm liquid, the scent of blood filling the air... Still, I turned my other hand around, sparks already forming around it, readying myself for a vengeful blow...

  ... which never came.

  "You alright?" a terrified but very gentle voice suddenly reached my ears.

  I had to put some effort into looking up and saw the worried eyes of my best friend, a shadow of panic in their warm depths... Siaril was kneeling next to me, throwing half-furious, half-anxious glances towards Sharish, who was trying to get up. Soft fingertips brushed my skin before Siaril craned his neck and shouted somewhere towards the rocks on which the ansirth was standing mere seconds ago: "Light!"

  "Yes~?!" echoed a clear, energetic voice.

  "Could you please lower yourself to our level for a moment?!"

  "Coming!"

  There was a thud resembling a heavy, scaled body hitting the ground and shortly after the very pleased looking youngest successor of the Caydranth lineage appeared on the top of the rocks. He jumped down and kneeled as well, not paying the slightest bit of attention to his brother.

  "That doesn't look good..." he muttered, examining my wound. "Don't worry, I'll think of something."

  Hand close to the cut, he started to whisper. A chilling sensation suddenly spread from that point, even though I was sure he didn't even touch my skin. The pain started to fade, and everything before my eyes steadily became clearer again.

  "Better," Light rather stated than asked.

  "Much better, thanks," I smiled, noticing the relief lightning up Siaril's face.

  "You still look like you've escaped from a butchery though... But I don't think it'll have any major influence on your efficacy in battle," Light suddenly stopped short, as if he just then noticed Sharish. "Oh, hey brother."

  "Light..." the older of them started, but trailed off when Light stood up to face him properly.

  They stared at each other for a good few moments.

  "I know now." We all looked at Light, and I doubt the tone of his voice escaped any of us. Something has changed... Like a stain on the perfectly polished blade that he always was, a stain that made it seem worse, but in reality was proof of a battle that made it stronger. "I know why you started all of this..."

  "You've met Canidralth again..." I said quietly, starting to get worried.

  But Light was perfectly calm. "I did. He unsealed that memory for me... made me relive the night that steered us all onto this path."

  "Then you should finally understand..." Sharish's confidence seemed to receive a boost.

  "I do... and I don't at the same time." And gone the confidence was. Light bent over to pick up the blade that threatened to end my life just seconds ago. He stared at it for a while before reaching to his own scar that adorned the skin of his neck. "That assassin is long gone... and the people you're trying to get rid of now were nothing but kind to me since the moment I've met them. You don't care about what I feel anymore... You fight for the kanh only..."

  "That's not..." Sharish looked away slightly. He wasn't able to deny.

  "You can lie to yourself if you want, but you can't lie to me," somehow it was Light who sounded like the older brother now. "Your whole plan is as stupid as I'm handsome... You want to go across Earlindon, leaving it empty and barren with only the scarce numbers of magical beings to rebuild it all? The kanh won't help, they'll leave as soon as it's all over and the path to Elirieth is open. And our race will live in fear of a vengeful human invasion forever after. Unless you wish to invade Laixya as well? Honestly, our family got more derailed along the generations than I thought... But don't worry, I'll restore the good name of the Caydranth lineage... The fact that you're stronger won't stop me... or rather you once were."

  "I still am," Sharish growled.

  "Were you born so stupid or do you just practice a lot? All you have left are those two shards in your pocket..."

  "One," I chimed in.

  "One? What happened to the other?"

  "Your innocent friends stole it."

  "I swear we didn't."

  My master's eyes wandered between me and Sharish a few times. "Well, no matter. Whatever the cause, it just proves me right. Compared to my capabilities, your magic is merely a few little tricks that you will throw at us before you flee like a dog with his tail between his legs..."

  Judging from Sharish's expression, his younger brother never before allowed himself to speak in such a tone. He was surprised, outraged... while looking bitter and guilty at the same time. Light ignored his glare and bent over again to pick up my sword.

  "Something so beautiful and pure can't belong to my brother..." he said, examining the bluish blade with awe. He turned to me again. "I'm assuming it belongs to you?"

  "Yeah... thanks," I took it back gratefully.

  I was tempted to ask how the trip to Hreshia went, if they managed to talk to any kanh, if Siaril had some time with his family, how many soldiers they brought with them... But I suddenly felt like I don't have to disrupt the moment with that. A look into their eyes was enough for whole tales to be told, all the feelings conveyed without a single touch...

  That was what gave us our advantage in the first place. Kindred spirits drawn to each other like fragments of a once shattered whole that long to be one again. Sharish would never understand...

  The mountain air suddenly carried Armailith's roar to us from the direction of the Serelath Valley. Everyone present, except for Light, looked east.

  "I think you're needed somewhere else," said the younger of the Caydranth brothers. "I can manage him, go."

  "Are you sure...?"

  "I'm better off here anyway," my master joked, though I could detect the hint of nervousness that he was trying to conceal by doing so. "Yasenka is there, and a beautiful woman is always a problem, be it leading a man astray for splendid adventures or distracting him on the battlefield."

  "Be careful," Siaril asked, his wings appearing.

  "Don't worry," some magical energy already coruscated around Light's hand that rested next to his hip for now. "When I'm done with him, he'll be washed better than his own robe."

  He seemed confident, but I still tried to tarry before I finally followed Siaril into the air.

  "Is it really a good idea to leave him there...?" I asked once we were out of earshot.

  "Some things need to be settled between them and them alone, Sig. Don't worry, Sharish is furious right now, which means he'll be making mistakes. And you said he had one less shard now?"

  "Yeah... But even so, he still has his inborn magic and one shard left."

  And I knew that it didn't make him any less dangerous.