• Prelude

    The predawn mist filling Firesong Valley churned, swirled, and then parted, letting a shadowy figure pass. The figure looked like a shadow of a man in all the mist. He was heading North towards Phoenix Tear Lake. As he past the last house in the valley, something tickled the back of his mind, causing him to pause. Kinswyrm? he mindspoke. When no reply came, he shrugged and moved on, the tantalizing sound of crashing water calling him on.

    Chapter 1

    Tyra woke with a start. Something familiar had brushed her mind, interrupting her dreams and waking her. When she probed with her own mind, she felt nothing. “Damn,” she muttered. “I was having such a nice dream too.” She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and looked around her room. Her eyes glanced over the red and gold baby dragon, Gemfire, also known as Spurt, sleeping at the foot of her bed and over her broadsword, Flamesong, leaning against the wall next to the door. Her eyes came back to the dragon hatchling and she whispered, “I swore I felt a dragon calling, I was hoping it was your mom coming for you.” Spurt shifted in his sleep and made a cooing noise. Tyra sighed. She could never give up Spurt now, even if his mom came for him. They were too attached.

    Tyra sighed again and got up from her bed, rousing Spurt as she did. Spurt chirped in annoyance. “Sorry,” Tyra told him as she pulled on her breaches. “But I’m heading out for some fresh air, you’re welcome to come.” Spurt nodded and stretched. Tyra pulled on a white shirt, slipped on her tan vest, and grabbed her hairbrush. She brushed her short, golden-red hair quickly, giving it more body, and then started on the floor length lock that started at the nape of her neck. When she finished with the knots in her hair, she braided it in the customary four-plaited braid of a noble. When finished, it reached just below her knees. She tied it off with red and blue ties. Spurt brought over her shoulder strap for her sword and she took it murmuring her thanks. She picked up her sword, slid it on the strap, and strapped to her back.

    She left her room and passed her twin brother’s open door. She noticed that her brother was not in bed, so he must be in his workshop downstairs. She headed down and turned left to her brother’s workshop. She leaned against the open door and looked in. Her brother, taller (six feet to her five foot two,) with golden-blond hair reaching to mid-back, his clan braid started from his left temple and was much shorter then Tyra’s, reaching just past his shoulder. He was dressed only in his breaches and was bent over a purple bubbling concoction in a glass tube.

    “Brainstorming Ivan?” Tyra asked quietly not wanting to surprise him.

    “Yes,” he replied in his deep melodic voice. Straightening and looking towards her he added, “I think I might have found something, but not sure yet.”

    “Well, I’m going out to Phoenix Tear Lake, need anything from the caves?”

    “Yes, some coal please, I’m out.”

    “Kay, I’ll get some on my way back. See you later.”

    “Bye.” He bent back over the tube, taking notes in a large book.

    She left her brother’s workshop and went into the dining room and into the kitchen. She grabbed some salted ham and yellow cheese from the cold box, along with some brown bread from the pantry and placed them all in a bag. She slung it over her shoulder and headed out the back door.

    It took her and Spurt about ten minutes to reach Golden Lily Falls, stopping she looked over the pool. The lilies were budding finally, meaning tourists would soon be flocking to the valley, along with the sick, hoping the temple would give them one of the petals, so they would be cured. “Great,” muttered Tyra. “Just what I need, people trampling my fields.” Every year, the tourists would try to short cut across her fields, crushing any crops in their way. Tyra had to hire temple guards last year and she would probably have to do so again this year.

    She started up the mountain path, Spurt trailing behind her.

    Chapter 2

    After about twenty minutes of climbing rough terrain, keeping their eyes peeled for any signs of goblins or orcs, they reached the top of the falls. Phoenix Tear Lake was positioned in the crater of a long dead volcano. A mile wide and forty feet deep to the water’s edge, the lake took up a third of the crater and anything that was not filled with water was wooded with trees, planted by some long dead earthmage.

    Tyra walked along the slim eastern beach, looking for a spot to picnic at, while Spurt ran off into the woods to hunt rabbits, or so she thought. She found a nice shady spot under an elm and sat with her back to the trunk. She was pulling out the ham when Spurt gave a sharp trill from the woods behind her. Reacting, Tyra jumped to her feet, drew her sword, and positioned herself into a fighter’s stance. Spurt came running out of the woods hissing and spitting with anger. He came and stood by her side, hissing towards the woods.

    “Spurt,” She began, worried. “What is…” She stopped, for a man had stepped out of the woods. He was around six and a half feet tall, lightly tanned with black hair down to his waist. His clothing looked to be richly made, shades of green satin tailored perfectly. Tyra’s first thought when she saw him was, Damn, he’s handsome! Tyra quickly shook the thought from her mind and asked in the surest voice she could muster, “Who in the Nine Hells are you?”

    The man chuckled and replied in a musical tone, “I might ask the same of you, and why do you have a young dragon acting as though you are his mother?”

    “I asked first,” she retorted, shifting the grip of her sword.

    “Fine,” he sighed. “I am Jakædon. I was simply passing through when I came across this breathtaking place and decided this was the only imaginable place to get some rest. Now you.”

    “I am Tyra Dartsdaughter of the Firesong clan, and the reason Gemfire is acting that way is because I am the closest thing to a mother he has. His mom disappeared before he hatched and hasn’t come back yet. That was two years ago. Why did you want to know?”

    “Curiosity.”

    “That killed the cat.” Tyra shot back.

    “Ah, yes it did.” Jakædon said solemnly. “But satisfaction brought it back.” That made Tyra laugh, though she didn’t loosen the grip on her sword. Spurt hissed again.

    “Spurt does not like you,” Tyra commented, looking down at the little dragon. “Do you have any idea why? He’s usually a very good judge of character.” She glared at the man, her green eyes flashing.

    “That’s because I want to take him away to bring him among his own kind.” He told her as he pulled out two long knives, too short to be short swords, but too long to be daggers, from his waist and positioned himself into his own fighting stance. “I thought I had sensed a dragon when I was in the valley, but it was so weak that I believed that I had imagined it.”

    “You!” Tyra gasped, shocked. She prepared herself for the impending attack. “You’re the dragon I sensed this morning?!”

    “You sensed me?” He said, relaxing his stance slightly. “Really? Hmmm, can you tell me how you came to have that ability?”

    “I was friends with Goldflame, his mother, we were together a lot before she disappeared.

    “She sent me a message in a dream to find her egg and told me what to name him when he hatched. That is the last I heard from her. She left him in my care, so you’re not taking him.” She got ready to attack, then paused when she noticed he had sheathed his knives and was raising his hands.

    “Don’t worry,” he smiled at her. “I am sorry, but I misunderstood. I thought you had taken him without permission. However, if Goldflame charged you with her son, then he must stay with you, for you two are bonded.”

    “What?” Tyra asked, dumbfounded. She lowered her sword, but did not release her grip. “You’re not going to try and take him now?”

    “No.”

    “Swear?”

    “On my honor as a dragon.”

    Tyra watched him for a few more moments then glanced at Spurt. The little dragon had relaxed considerably, though his tail still wagged in mild agitation. Tyra sighed, sheathed her sword, and looked to Jakædon, “Okay then.”

    “I am sorry,” he replied softly stepping up to her and placing his hands on her shoulders. “But you must understand, our young are very precious to us dragons, for we hatch so rarely. I would do anything to save one of our hatchlings. Otherwise I would have never drew my blades”

    “I understand.” She said looking into his eyes, the brightest shade of blue she had ever seen, and smiled. “To show no hard feelings, how ‘bout dinner at my place, my brother cooks a mean steak.”

    “I don’t know…”

    “Please, it’s been a while since we had company and you can help me with Spurt.”

    “Help you? How?”

    “Well, you’re a dragon, who else would know better then how to raise a baby dragon?’

    “Oh, all right. Lead the way.”

    “Sure, soon as I am done with my breakfast.” She sat back down while Spurt climbed into her lap. Jakædon laughed and sat with her. She reached into her bag and took out the bread, tore it, and handed Jakædon half. She did the same with the cheese and ham.

    Jakædon thanked her and bit into the cheese, savoring the sharp flavor. After he swallowed, he asked, “So what is this place called?”

    Tyra finished chewing a bit of ham and answered, “Phoenix Tear Lake and Golden Lily Falls.”

    “Why are the called such captivating names?”

    “Well, the Golden Lily Falls is called that for the gold lilies that bloom there once every year. It is the only place they do bloom. They can cure most illness, so the temple gathers them soon as they bloom and add them to some of the most powerful healing potions ever made.”
    “Fascinating, and the Lake?”

    “This use to be the highest reaching mountain in Aarea, or so my grandfather said. The Great Phoenix, Searra, use to use it as her nest and pyre, hatching from it the lesser phoenixes and the fire sprites, my ancestors. However, the last time she used it, it exploded and collapsed, causing the crater to be formed. As she flew over her destroyed home, she cried in regret and filled the crater with her tears. The lake has never been dry since, even in the worst drought.”

    “That was one of your legends, correct?” Jakædon asked, awed.

    “Yes it is,” Tyra replied, smiling. “One of our oldest. My grandfather told me that one before he died. He was a great story teller and told me a lot of the stories and legends I know.”

    “You miss him, don’t you?” Jakædon ask softly.

    “Yes, I do miss him, but it was his time.”

    They finished their meal in silence. When finished they got up and brushed the crumbs from their clothing and got ready to leave. Jakædon and Spurt following, Tyra lead the way down the mountain.