Fire wrapped around his skin, twirling up and down his arms and torso like red ribbons. The feeling was pure joy as the heat spiraled off his fingertips and faded into the dark garden. His father Nero smiled down at four-year-old Ross. 

“You’re going to be powerful, my boy. Maybe even more powerful than me.”

The last smile and kind words Ross could ever remember his father giving him. No kindness had left Nero since the day his mother died giving birth to his younger brother. The king had held his youngest son long enough to give him the name, “Malwas, bringer of death,” before casting him into the arms of the nurse and storming out of the room, stating the boy needed to be out of the castle, dead or alive, by nightfall. 

The vision faded away as what Ross could only describe as acid slithered through his veins. A site on his right forearm ached like he’d been branded with iron pokers and the wounds were now infected. He flexed his hand and winced.

Ross groaned as light pierced his eyes. His body shuddered from chills like he had a fever, and every part of him ached with illness.

“You’re awake!” 

That wasn’t Nienna. Ross cracked open his eyes, squinting as sunlight filtering through sheer curtains shone on his bed.

A bed? He forced his eyes wide to take in his surroundings, familiar, yet foreign.

“We almost lost you last night,” a man to his right said. “But then Fiora looked in on you and took care of the rest of the venom still lingering in your veins.”

Ross turned to the man, a few years older than him, dressed in a loose white shirt and trousers. His feet were bare. Ross squinted, trying to determine if this was a dream. It could only be one person, but it still seemed impossible.

“Zared?” Ross croaked. 

His throat felt coated in the same acid lingering in his body.

“Of, course it’s me,” his brother leaned forward, peering closer at Ross. “What I want to know is how you ended up the prisoner of a dragon and in the games? I was told you were a Tellidine spy. But that can’t be true.”

Ross scanned the room. All his old possessions remained, even the small silver horse figurine Zared had given him for his eighth birthday. But the one person he needed to see, to know if she was all right, wasn’t there.

“Where’s Nienna?” Ross asked.

Zared cocked his head. “Who?”

“The girl that was with me. Where is she?” 

Ross’s stomach tied itself into knots. What had happened to her after he passed out? He had no idea if she was hurt or where she was. 

Ross sat up and let the blankets fall from his shoulders. However, the world tilted sideways and if Zared hadn’t been so close, he would have wound up on the floor. As his brother set him back on his pillows. 

Ross’s stomach roiled and his head swam. The after effects of the venom were almost as bad as the poison itself.

Zared pressed a hand to Ross’s shoulder to make sure he didn’t sit up again. “That girl you came with is likely still in the prison beneath the stadium. I was told she tried to follow us out after I came for you, but one of the prison managers stopped her.” 

At the sharp look Ross gave Zared, his brother raised his hands, palms out. “She’s the slave of the dragon. I’m not going to get involved there. But you, on the other hand, are my brother, and a prince of Ballitus. I wasn’t about to leave you down there.”

Ross ran his hands through his tangled hair, but stopped undoing a tangle. His red dragon tattoo had shifted. It was far larger than it should have been. And it was incomplete, as though half of his Drake had buried itself beneath his skin, wrapping all the way up from his wrist to his shoulder.

He tugged open the neck of his shirt to find the dragon’s body covering his torso, wings extended like it was wrapping around his back, but again, the design was incomplete. Its front paws and the ends of its wings were missing.

Zared cleared his throat. “Your mark wasn’t like that before you released the dragon in the arena, was it?

“No,” Ross said, stunned. “He only covered my left forearm; all of him.”

“That girl was the one who called him back after you passed out. The magic must have covered both of you.” Zared’s mouth pinched at these words.

“I need to find her,” Ross said, throwing his covers off and setting his bare feet on the cool stone floor.

“Slow down, Azroth. You aren’t well.” 

Zared rushed to stop him, but Ross was already on his feet, aiming for the door. Before he’d made it five feet, his legs collapsed and his knees met the hard stone floor with a thud, leaving him lightheaded and shaking.

“I told you,” Zared said, slipping his arms underneath Ross’s shoulders and guiding him back to bed.

Ross resisted even as sun flares popped in his vision. “You don’t understand. I have to find her.”

Depositing Ross on the edge of the bed, Zared folded his arms over his chest. “And why is this girl, this Tellidine spy, who is also Darius’s slave, mind you, so important? She sounds like a load of trouble and better left where she’s at.”

Ross tried to stand again. “She is no spy. She came here to assassinate that murderous dragon, and put a stop to this war Father brewed up.”

“Assassinate!” Zared said, eyes flicking to the door as if to make sure no one else heard. 

He pushed Ross back onto the bed, blocking him from standing again.

“If she was here to assassinate him, what in the scorching sands were you doing with her? You realize this is treason,” Zared hissed.

“Since when do you bow down to that dragon?” Ross asked, darkly.

He swayed, willing his vision to clear, but it was having the opposite effect.

Zared swallowed hard, ears turning pink. “I bow to no one but the Fire Guardian who has led our people since we rose from the ashes of the empire. But in case you forgot after you came back from the dead, the phoenix and the dragon were never complete until they ruled together. The phoenix, our beloved Guardian, and the dragon, her spouse. I carry her power, and you carry his. Remember? This kingdom needs both.”

A metallic taste filled Ross’s mouth. Darius as he seemed to be going by here, was where his magic originated? He really was going to be sick.

Ross staggered back into his pillows, limbs trembling. He would stay here until his vision cleared. Then he’d find Nienna.

Zared’s nostrils flared. “Now, if you want to keep your head and our magic whole, I suggest you keep those details to yourself. The less you associate with that girl the faster the people will accept you as their lost prince. You put on quite the show, but the fact that you came in as a captured enemy, it’s not good for you.”

Ross glanced down at his half of the tattoo. “I can’t leave her, Zared.”

“And why not?” his brother asked exasperated.

“Because she’s the princess of Tellidus.”

He always thought death would be the end of pain and the beginning of peace, but he was wrong. Ross burned from the inside out as though hundreds of shards of glass had been heated, then dragged across his body. 

It didn’t stop until gradually something he could only describe as liquid light, warm and smooth as fresh honey, slid through his body, soothing the stabbing pain from his latest seizure. The source of the light originated from his chest where he felt his drake stir. 

The tattoo had changed. It used to only course up his arm, but now he felt it cover his whole chest and wind down his left arm, but something about it was off.

The balm of light continued to spread through his body until finally his muscles unclenched and relaxed. 

Then came the Fire.

Ross tried to crack open his eyes to see where it was coming from, but it was too much effort. So he concentrated on it with his mind. He could sense three distinct Firesparks pouring into him. One he’d know anywhere.

“Nienna?” he rasped. 

“I’m here,” came her voice, as soothing as her magic.

The other two Firesparks were foreign.

Almost all the pain had left his body now, and a great heaviness, like a thick quilt in the middle of winter, settled over him. 

Warm and safe.

A head rested on his shoulder, followed by a warm body curling into his side. Ross finally cracked his eyes open. If this was a fever dream, he would take it. 

Nienna still poured her waning Earthspark into him along with her Firespark, but she’d nestled into his side, one hand cupping his face, her breathing coming in rasps. She’d likely given too much, a habit she’d never kicked. Now, Nienna would be weak and vulnerable until she recovered.

Ross wrapped clumsy hands around her, holding her close. He wished that his destiny as a Protector could include her. As Protector of Ballitus, he was supposed to be in charge of the armies, coordinating with the generals on keeping the country safe. He was supposed to be at the king’s side helping him rule, and ensuring no danger came to him.

But he’d failed in that role. He’d chosen to run and live a life of his choosing, albeit it had left him homeless, cold, hungry, and scared. However, he had found a place where he was loved, safe, and with friends he could trust. To him, those were the things worth protecting. Not egos and certainly not heading up the war his father had left behind.

Movement around the room caught Ross’s attention. Others were here. He forced his eyes to focus and saw what looked like his brother slumped in the chair beside him, eyes half-closed.

“That’s some girl you found there,” Zared said, head sagging toward the arm of the chair.

His face was pale, and he appeared too weak to hold his head up. Nienna’s hand was only a few inches away from Zared’s. She must have pulled on his Firespark.

But he couldn’t fathom where the third spark had come from.

Then a set of hands pried Nienna from Ross’s loose grip. It was the man with golden eyes, sharp teeth, and clawed fingernails—Darius.

Ross tried to hold on tighter, but the dragon had already extracted Nienna and carried her out of the room held tight to his chest. They were followed out by none other than Horacio Marks. So his uncle was here too. Ross tried to call after them, but his voice didn’t seem to work.

A woman with red lips and hair that shimmered like an ember in the flames came into his periphery. 

“Rest, little prince. Tomorrow we get to work.” Then she kissed his brow with the tenderness of a mother and Ross’s eyes fell heavy again, sealing out the waking world.

***

“Quite twitching. You act like you’ve never worn any of this before,” Zared complained as he helped Ross into a sleeveless linen jerkin and trousers. 

The fabric was too light. He felt naked wearing such things after the heavier material of Tellidus.

“I’m used to thicker clothes, alright?” Ross argued back.

Ross had woken up to find Zared reading a report in the chair beside him. He wondered if Zared had ever left, or if he’d slept in the chair beside the bed all night. He moved stiff enough. 

“Well, you’ve got to wear it. Fiora says it will be easier to put your mark back together if it’s fully exposed, so I thought you’d appreciate wearing something through the palace instead of going topless.” Zared shot him a haphazard grin.

Ross glanced down at his arm where the small version of his tattoo used to rest. Now, the whole tail wrapped around his arm, though it appeared to be sliced in two. An effect of Nienna being the one to call it back, he supposed. The color of the tattoo had also shifted from a brilliant red to an iridescent shade of green, purple, and crimson.

The last thing he remembered were fangs piercing his skin and Nienna wrapping her arms around him as they collapsed to the dry sand of the arena, a hand pressed to the wound.

“There. Now you look like a prince instead of a street rat.” Zared gave an approving nod.

Ross looked down at himself. He wished he could have his old clothes and his old life back, but he was afraid both those things would be far beyond his reach now. His only hope was to keep Nienna alive, and from fulfilling the prophecy.

Resigned, Ross said, “Let’s get my mark stitched back together.”

Owen strode through the sea of tents, head down, lost in his thoughts. Somewhere behind him, Barret and Axel were speaking in low voices. He could hear their concern, even if they weren’t speaking to him directly. He could feel the weight of the crown heavy on his head. Everyone here was looking to him, the supercilious prat that he was, desperate for a way to defeat the Ballitine army without losing everyone he watched over. 

He ran his hands through his hair again, which by now stood straight up. Was this how his father felt every day? And here, Owen had played his pranks throughout the castle because he thought his father didn’t smile enough. Maybe he’d been as childish as everyone had told him. And now he was king! No wonder the generals wouldn’t listen to him.

He covered his face with his hands and took deep breaths. In the process of letting out a low exhalation, Owen crashed into something solid, effectively smashing his nose in the process.

“Ow,” Owen said through his hands.

“Watch it!” an unfamiliar voice said.

The king lowered his hands to find he’d run into one of Cyra’s people. Whoever he was, the willowy man looked like he could break Owen over his knee.

“Sorry, mate,” Owen said. “Hard to see where I’m walking.”

The man scowled. “I am not your mate. Maybe you should try walking without your hands covering your face, eh?”

Owen grinned sheepishly. “Aye, perhaps I should. Would be much easier to see, I think.”

 The man looked him up and down, scrutinizing everything about him. “You aren’t Nienna’s brother, are you?”

Of course, these wild northern people would know his sprite of a sister. “Why, yes, I am. Owen Comstock at your service.”

The man inclined his head. “Corwin Aquilo. She saved my life, and the lives of many others when she was a member of the Flock.”

Owen’s mouth dropped open. Was this man positive he was talking about his sister and not some other woman? “Aquilo. I’ve heard your name bandied about. Aren’t you one of the generals from the north?”

“I am second in command of the Flock. You’ve met Cyra, my sister, I believe.”

How could he forget the ice princess? “Yes. She doesn’t say much, but gives plenty of dirty looks.”

The faintest traces of amusement lifted Corwin’s face. “That would be her.”

“Is it your mother who is the leader of the Flock? I think that’s what Cyra told me.”

“Yes. She is coming with the rest of our fighters this evening. I was already in motion when we received Cyra’s call.”

“You said my sister saved your life. I’m struggling to see a scrawny thing like Nienna doing anything to protect someone who looks like a living sword.”

Corwin raised an eyebrow. “Your sister is far from scrawny, I assure you. We were fighting the green dragon, and I got too close. He had me in his jaws, filling my veins with his venom. I would have been dead in a matter of minutes if your sister hadn’t used her healing magic on me. She nearly killed herself helping me. Her courageous acts saved many. We honor her, despite what Tellen says.”

Owen looked at the man dubiously. “I know my sister got really good with a sword, but I mostly attribute that to Teague’s tutelage. The healing though…”

He rubbed his neck where a small white dart had once pricked his skin. Had Nienna not been close, he would have been dead for sure.

“Did my sister give you any great ideas on how to defeat the Ballitine army and the dragon that seems to pop up at the worst times in history?”

“She had many ideas, but I think this battle will be won through different strategies.” Corwin stared off at the tents rustling in the breeze. 

“Any you care to share? I’m all ears, even if my generals are not. I’m positive their plans will get us all slaughtered, and I really would like to make it to at least my first anniversary as a married man. Maybe even have a child or two before I go to the halls of the Great King.”

 Owen spoke the words lightly, but the weight of them was like an anvil around his neck. He had been in love with Rivkah his whole life, and now that they were finally married, he’d been thrust into a war he didn’t want.

“Have you consulted with the tribes?” Corwin asked.

“My generals refuse to meet with ‘our northern enemies.’ They think I’m just an immature child trying to get them all killed by bringing in the tribes.”

Corwin pursed his lips thoughtfully. “Come, I am meeting with them at this moment. Join us. It should be a much more enlightening conversation.”

“You’ll translate for me? I can’t understand their speech most of the time.”

“Of course, King Comstock.”

 Owen glanced back at Axel and Barrett before following the Flock’s second-in-command toward the rounded huts of the tribes. He’d been impressed when they showed up with their rolling houses.

Corwin knocked on the doorpost of one of the larger huts.

The person inside responded in Northern. Owen’s shoulders sagged. 

This was going to be a long meeting. 

They must have been granted permission because Corwin waved them inside. Several lined faces greeted them as they entered. More words were exchanged, and then they were invited to sit. Axel stood near the door, but Barrett sat down next to Owen and Corwin. He was relieved to see Malvina sitting among the group. 

“Welcome, young king,” Malvina said, using the common tongue. 

“Great Malvina, we need help, though my generals refuse to see it. I want to trust in their wisdom and plans, but something is telling me if we follow them, we’ll be dead by sundown. “

Malvina tugged on the black-and-white feather in her hair, identical to the one Nienna carried in her hair. “As I told you at your home, we are here to fight, and aid you in any way we can. For if Tellidus falls, the Reach will fall as well. I’ve sat in on enough of those meetings to know those old fools are too hung up on tradition to see this enemy is ready to swallow us whole.”

“That is my fear,” Owen said, petting his hair back down. “My generals tell me I’m too young and inexperienced to be of much help here, but I know that sticking to the strategies they have used for centuries will not be what wins the upcoming fight.”

“You see clearly there,” Malvina said.

“What are the strategies or tactics the tribes have found effective? You solidly beat my men in Silverlen, seemingly without even batting an eye.”

“The Silver Mountain was a separate battle, but I understand your thoughts. Though Nienna told me of all the times you would lure her into one of your traps. Surely someone who could rig an entire gauntlet of traps to their treasury could come up with something.”

Owen found himself smiling. “You heard about that?”

Malvina smirked. “These are the strategies that will be most effective in the fight ahead.”

“I suggested several ways to lay traps on the battlefield, but my generals, who if truth be told, have been on the receiving end of many pranks, told me I had no business in war.”

Malvina leaned forward. “They are wrong.”

Corwin turned to him. “You may have heard that your sister spent two years back in the time of your forbearer Saul.” 

A hiss rose from the northerners at the mention of Owen’s however many greats grandsire. Saul was obviously not well thought of in the history of other lands.

“Nienna was Tellen’s greatest strategist,” Corwin said. “However, the more I learn about you, I think she used a combination of the tribes’ and Pathfinders’ fighting techniques mixed with a healthy dose of your pranks. You don’t win wars by being a gentleman.”

“I had never believed the rumor that she’d gone back in time. But if she was running around with Tellen’s wild animals and gallivanting like a fairy through the north for two years, it would explain a lot of the strange new habits that popped up when she returned.” Owen rubbed his chin.

“Not to mention the haunted look that darkened her eyes,” Barrett chimed in.

Corwin spoke again. “Your sister endured much. She had been manipulated and tortured at the hands of the dragon we now fight, and she’d been beaten without recourse by Saul. More than bones were broken during that time.”

“And now she’s back under the control of that same dragon if I heard correctly.” Owen’s heart squeezed. He couldn’t protect his sister from powers like that.

“She is. Her ability to control all four elemental sparks has made her a valuable asset many fight over,” Malvina said. “Which is why we can’t fight this war the way it’s been done for centuries.”

“Maybe it’s time that Ballitus gets a taste of who they’re really fighting,” Barrett said. “Show them that the new king has more up his sleeve than a knife.”

“But how? I don’t know how to do that.” Owen threw his hands into the air in exasperation.

“Remember trying to get into the vaults?” Axel said from the back. “What if we set up a gauntlet of traps like that on the battlefield? Even trying to get into your rooms some days is a nightmare.”

“Skilled fighters surround you,” Malvina said. “All you need to do is slow your enemy down and allow the fighters to do their jobs.”

A light flared in Owen’s mind as he latched onto the possibilities. Perhaps he was the right king to lead during this time. This war wouldn’t be won using methods that worked in his father’s time. 

Owen jumped to his feet. “Let’s get to work.”

When the last buckle was in place on Nienna’s black armor, Ross took her hand. Noise was coming from the common room. It seemed the rest of the tent had finally woken up. 

“This plan of yours is horrible. You know that. Both of us could die before our opportunity comes.”

“I know,” Nienna said, forcing her queasy stomach to calm. If she thought too much about any outcomes, she was going to be sick.

“I never confessed my undying love before we entered the arena,” Ross said, stroking her cheek with a light finger. “Would you like me to do it now?”

Her skin tingled beneath the touch, and she pressed his palm to her face. “Is that how all Phoenixes love? Undying? Or is it constantly reborn?”

Ross leaned down and kissed her as softly as a butterfly landing on a flower. The sensation coiled all the way to her toes. 

“It has no beginning, and no end. It simply is,” Ross said as he pulled back. “It evolves and grows with each cycle until it burns so bright that it makes one glow bright as the sun.”

Nienna wrapped her arms around Ross, wishing the armor was gone so she could feel the pound of his heart against her ear. To know it was still beating. 

“Please be careful today.”

Ross hid his face in the side of her neck, holding her like he might break apart if he let go.

“I want to say the same to you, but I know it will be pointless.” Ross pulled back from her as his face grew blotchy. “I only hope this bond we have will give you some measure of protection. I am your Protector, Nienna.”

Nienna pressed her forehead against hiss, forcing her voice to remain steady for both their sakes. “You always have been, even when I didn’t see it.”

A few minutes later, the pair walked out of Nienna’s tent compartment and found the common room a hive of activity. Darius wore studded black armor that matched the spikes on his dragon body. It caught the light like a black diamond, casting dark rainbows on the ceiling. His golden eyes glowed from under his heavy brows like miniature suns.

Zared waved Nienna and Ross over as they entered. He briefed them all again on what their plans were.

“Nienna!” Darius called.

Just the sound of his voice filled Nienna’s head with fear. Her master was calling and she had to answer. Yet there was no tug. He wasn’t forcing her to move. He wasn’t inside her mind. It was the way someone would speak to a friend. But friends were not something they could ever be. Not after what he’d made her endure.

Nienna hesitantly put one foot in front of the other, hands trembling. Her heart raced. Sweat slicked her palms. She licked her dry lips, then bit down on the bottom one. All her recent memories were of his checking on her, making sure she was OK. But it was an act. Darius had pretended to be a kind mentor in the past and look how that turned out. She couldn’t trust him. 

Yet from within the ashes, something new had arisen.

She glanced back at Ross. He was speaking to the soldiers and listening to their reports. After everything, he was still by her side. Still being there for her.

Nienna approached Darius, and he took her hand. The shock of the raw magic pulsing off of him coursed over her skin like a tidal wave. 

“I need you to heal Fiora. The Grimmole blade penetrated deep and it’s making the muscles in Fiora’s shoulder die.”

Never in all the years Nienna knew Darius, never had he revealed his fear, but at the moment, he was terrified. Then she noticed hot, stinging dragon blood trailing down his arm.

“You’re hurt,” she said. Her voice little more than a whisper.

“You can see to me later.” He turned his golden eyes on her, imploring. “Please help Fiora.”

It would be better for everyone if she let Fiora die. Nienna had a dagger on her hip. Darius was distracted and had never been an easier target. He believed her to still be the timid girl who had latched onto any familiar feelings and people once she’d lost her memories.

However, as Darius pulled her into their tent, Nienna saw Fiora lying down, face contorted in pain. There was so much blood everywhere.

Her hands shook harder. 

Darius pulled her to the bedside and kneeled beside it, bringing Nienna with him. 

“Heal her,” he begged. “I can’t lose any more of my family.”

For the briefest moment, Nienna caught flashes of a kaleidoscope of dragons swirling around her. Of Darius and Fiora marrying. Then Nienna remembered what Fiora had shared with her about Tellen’s treachery. He really had done a terrible thing, and the burden of it still weighed on him. This war between Tellidus and Ballitus had been raging since the day Tellen stole Fiora’s magic. And it would never get better if they didn’t follow through on their plan tomorrow. Which meant Fiora needed to live.

Nienna placed tentative fingers over the ashen wound at Fiora’s shoulder. 

“Just take a deep breath,” Darius said. “You’ve done this hundreds of times before. You’ve even saved my life. All you need to do is think about the muscles, skin, and tissues as healthy, strong, and pliant. Your magic will do the rest.”

He still kept hold of her other hand, though she wasn’t sure if the trembling was coming from him or her own fingers.

Fiora glanced over at them, her brow slicked with sweat. “This is my punishment for ending Aros.”

She sniffed, and blinked back tears.

Darius took Fiora’s hand and kissed it. “No my love. That blame lies with me. I was too eager to see his downfall after his part in my capture. I should have told you the consequences of using that blade.”

The three of them created a magical triangle. Nienna allowed her Earthspark to trickle into Fiora, though Nienna could feel it cycling between all three of them. She felt herself becoming more than just a dragon friend as the bond between them intensified. In a twisted way, she’d grown to care for these two. They had taught her much. And once she lost her memories, they had genuinely been nice to her.

The wound on Fiora’s shoulder shrank, but the pounding behind Nienna’s eyes grew. Her trembling traveled up her arms until her whole body was trembling like she had a fever. Hot and cold. Fire and Ice. Tangible and intangible. 

Then her Earthspark altered. It became gold. More than just earth magic was flowing into the Fire Guardian. A world thrown out of balance was slowing being knit back together, one heart at a time.

Arms wrapped around her shoulders and lifted her to her feet. Nienna blinked the fuzzy images away. Darius still kneeled at Fiora’s side, but the Guardian smiled. 

Yet, the arms continued to carry her out of the compartment and into the light of the main chamber. A single candle remained on the smooth table. Then they were back in her room.

Ross held her as they sank on the floor. Nienna cried until her eyes ran dry. Soldiers were running around outside and shouts echoed between the canvas. Zared had been in more than once to command Ross to get her on her feet. The armies were preparing to fight at first light, and they needed to get themselves into position.

“My prince, we are ready for the execution,” a soldier called from the other side of the tent wall.

“I can’t watch this, Ross. I can’t watch Teague be executed.” Thoughts of her own execution bubbling to the surface.

“I have to go.” He sounded like he’d been turned hollow. 

So much rode on them being able to think clearly today, but it wasn’t going to happen.

Minutes later, they stood at the back of the assembly. Teague was on a small platform while a man in a black mask, Nienna wouldn’t have been surprised to learn it was Darius, raised a sword.

Teague caught her eye and held her gaze.

Tellen reached the fringe of the Tellidine camp and pushed up from his wolf form. Owen, Orion, Axel, and Barrett were still where he’d left them. Owen stopped his pacing the moment he spotted Tellen.

“Well?” the king demanded. “Does she remember?”

Tellen raised his hands to stem the questions. “Aye. She remembers.”

“And?” Owen pulled at his hair, leaving it standing straight up.

Tellen glanced at Teague before giving the king a flat stare. “She and I came up with a plan, but it’s going to depend on everyone being in the correct place at the correct time. And Ross holding up his end.”

“Are you sure we can trust him?” Barrett asked. “My father is in that camp, sitting at the king’s right hand, and Ross is sitting on the left.”

“I watched them after they left their war council tonight. Both were upset about the plans and were quietly discussing how they wished they could prevent the fight. I have to trust that they are still on our side.”

“Did you hear any of their plans?” Barrett asked.

“Not from the council, but Ross informed me that there will be three dragons flying tomorrow.”

Owen yelled in frustration before leaning heavily against a boulder. “What’s the point? We’re going to be slaughtered tomorrow, whether my sister has her memories back or not. I’ve only been king for less than a year. Tellidus will fall tomorrow and it will be my fault.”

Tellen leaned a heavy hand on the young king’s shoulder before taking a seat on the rock next to him. “No, this is my fault. I’m the one who started this because I wanted to make friends.”

Barrett looked stricken. Tellen couldn’t blame him. He felt the same way. Tomorrow would likely be the last day he saw any of them in this life.

Orion stepped forward. “Well if tomorrow is to be our last, what shall we die for then?”

Barrett turned wide eyes to him, and Owen scrunched his brow. 

Orion threw out his hands. “We’re mortal. We all die at some point. We might as well make our deaths mean something.”

“Well, I don’t know about you, but my death will mean the end of a dynasty that has lasted for twelve hundred years and I’m going to be the prat who let it fall. I have no heir and last I knew, Rivkah wasn’t with child. So when I get to the other side, I’m going to have to face my father and grandfather once again with egg on my face and pine sap on my hands, and them shaking their heads, ‘well you’ve always been a walking disaster. No surprise it all ended with you.’”

“You’ve thought about this a time or two, haven’t you?” Axel said.

“Only every night when I go to bed. The worst of it, with Rivkah being queen, that fish-lipped skunk, Jeremiah Ferris will be trying to cozy up to her and take my place.” Owen shuddered. “He smells bad enough in public. Can you imagine how bad he’d smell in private?”

Axel laughed. “Now I understand why you’re awake half the night. The sight of Jeremiah kissing Rivkah would be enough to give anyone nightmares.”

“Then you better not die tomorrow,” Axel said. “We don’t need your nightmares to come true.”

Barrett gripped his sword. “But what if we do die?”

Tellen shifted his place on the rock and looked at the young man. He knew every one of these soldiers had seen battle. They’d faced death before, but the direction Barrett especially was headed, would lead to them getting killed faster. He’d seen this too many times. Tellen refused to let their enemies win before the battle even began.

“Orion is right. If you are to die tomorrow, will you die a coward, shaking in your boots as the killing blow is dealt, or will you face it with honor? What do you die for? Love? Honor? Friendship? Family? Don’t let your enemies beat you before you ever walk onto the field. We go out there tomorrow knowing that if we swing our swords, we will be saving the fighters next to us. You will be holding back Ballitus from destroying more cities and innocents who can’t defend themselves. Fight for the right to live your lives in peace. So what will you die for?”

Each of the three young men looked at one another.

“I’m fighting for Rivkah. To save her from always smelling awful,” Owen said, puffing out his chest.

“I’m fighting to protect my mother,” Barrett said, straightening.

“I’m fighting to ensure the castle staff never get fat. They wouldn’t know what to do with all their spare time if Owen died,” Axel said, cracking a smile.

Orion appeared thoughtful. “If I die tomorrow, then I will be dying for all the Pathfinders stand for. ‘Love, Family, Honor.’”

“Keep those purposes in mind and you’ll see the end of the day,” Tellen said. 

Great King, please don’t let these courageous young men die because of my faults.

Nienna walked along the streets of Lambswell, hoping something would jar her memory. Her shadow, Aspen Perrill walked five paces behind her, silent, brooding. Ross was meeting with his brother and said he’d find her later. The fire trick he’d used to mark her footprints on the ground to show where she’d stepped was brilliant.

“So Shadow, what do you think of this city?” she called back to Aspen.

“I think it is full of large hills that make my calves burn as we walk. It has spectacular views that always manage to place the sun in your face, and narrow crooked streets where we’d be lost if I hadn’t brought a map.”

She shot a look back at him. He’d been surly and quiet most of their walk, distracted by something and he continued to rub his hand with his opposite thumb, though she couldn’t see anything wrong.

“You are a very cheerful companion to walk with. Did you know?” 

He gave a low huff that almost sounded like it carried a laugh. “Yes. You’ve told me so many times.”

She turned to face him fully. “I have not. That is the first time I have said that today. My memory isn’t as bad as that.”

The expression on his face was wistful, and a touch sad. “I did not say you had told me that today. But many times as we grew up.”

Nienna gave him her full attention for the first time since they set out on their walk. “We grew up together?”

“We’ve been friends since we were children. We used to play hide and seek in the castle with the other children, steal sweets from the kitchen, and purposely get ourselves lost in little used wings just so we could search out new passages.”

“It sounds like a good childhood,” Nienna said, spying a cathedral dominating the skyline. “We must have been great friends.”

Aspen kicked a rock and followed its progress with his eyes. “Yes we were.”

He refused to speak after that, so Nienna kept walking until they came out onto the city wall with a grand view of the rolling hills of the city and the vast river that split it in two. Ahead she saw the Fire Guardian, Fiora leaning against it. She turned to look at them when she heard their approach.

If she was honest, Fiora frightened her. The woman with the flame colored hair harbored so much anger, bitterness, and sadness that it made it difficult to be around, but as they’d been spotted, it would be rude to turn and walk in the other direction.

Nienna walked up to her. Fiora continued to stare out at the city, not acknowledging Nienna at all. That suited her. The view up here was impressive. She could see “North Lamb” as Ross had called it, all the way to an area called the “Haggis.” She leaned on the wall and stared out. Aspen sat down on a bench a few paces away and put his head in his hands.

Fiora glanced at her for the first time.

“Can I help you with something?” she asked.

“No. I just saw you here, and thought I’d admire the view with you.”

Fiora gave her a dubious look but returned her attention back to the city. “Do you always find the bright side or is this just a recent development? You were always such a cowering mouse when Darius first caught you as his slave.”

“A slave? Am I still a slave? I must not be too bad of one if I get to just wander the city like I have.”

“Yes, you are still a slave, but with your… ah… memory issues, you aren’t much good to anyone until you remember a few more details.”

“I’ve heard that mind sifting is an ability that fire users have, like Ross. Where you’re its Guardian, maybe you could take a look and see if you can find my memories.”

“They’re there. I’ve already checked, but because of the botched way that imbecilic woman took them, they’re broken at the moment and I don’t know how to fix them.”

“Oh,” Nienna said. 

She returned to staring out the city, wishing she could regain her memories. She’d rather be useful than just a liability that needed to be watched like she was.

“Fiora?”

“What?”

“Why are you fighting this war?”

Fiora again gave her a sideways look. “The Ballitines are my people. My ‘children’ if you will. They are the ones I chose to gift with my power.”

“But why do you fight? Zared seems perfectly capable of getting himself into trouble and play dirty without you.”

After several quiet moments it seemed like Fiora wasn’t going to answer. At that moment she figured she’d overstayed her welcome and started to walk off when Fiora said, “I fight because of my brother.”

Nienna turned back around. “You have a brother?”

“Two actually. At least I did.” She raised her eyes to the sky and blinked rapidly. “Now it’s just one.”

“What happened?”

“I killed Aros. My elder brother.” She hadn’t been sure before but Nienna could definitely see tears in the corners of Fiora’s eyes. 

She wasn’t sure what to say. “I’m sorry” didn’t seem right.

“But my fight wasn’t with Aros. It’s always been with Tellen.”

Tellen? Like the dream person who she’d seen every time she closed her eyes? How was that possible?

“He must have been a terrible brother if you’ve been fighting all this time.”

Fiora narrowed her eyes. “Yes he is. He’s a glory seeking, turncoat. He claims to fight for ‘love, honor, and family’ but he got his glory by turning on his family, and I hardly think that shows love.”

The phrase was familiar. It echoed in Nienna’s chest, but like so many things it slipped away before she could examine it. Had she been a turncoat to Tellen and that’s why he greeted her with such hostility the first time they met in the Dreamscape? Is that why she ended up in the Ballitine camp? So many unanswered questions.

When she didn’t respond, Fiora continued. “I mean, he comes begging to me to give your ancestors fire so they could stay warm. He wanted me to teach the mud men wandering around how to cook their meals, how to signal others with the blaze and smoke the way he and I used to do when we built this world.”

Her eyes misted over again. “He’d been my closest companion before humans arrived. We raised mountains, then leveled them to try again. We created islands in the seas. Mountains that spewed fire. Then when I told him no, that the humans needed figure it out on their own, he steals it from me and gives it to them. The humans loved him. They clamored for his attention whenever he walked among them.”

Fiora wiped at her eyes.

“And then he met you, and you both had to ruin everything. You sent Darius into a pit, and then Tellen locked me away for a thousand years until, wouldn’t you know it, his precious lover is the one who sets me free.”

Tellen had said they’d been engaged, and this was proof. Yet, Nienna wasn’t sure this made her feel any better.

A cold glint tempered the fire in Fiora’s voice. “At least until you came to your senses and have since placed your affections on a more suitable candidate. And as soon as you regain your memories, you and the prince will help us flatten Tellidus with your sparks and then we will be on to conquer other lands.”

“What if I don’t want to conquer anyone?” Nienna asked. 

She slid a glance to Aspen, but he hadn’t so much as twitched since he sat down.

Fiora turned to her. “Darius showed me some of your last memories of your family and of Tellen. They treated you awfully. They turned against you and you sought out Darius and I for help. And it was our luck that you brought our missing prince along with you. Tiberius, Zared, and Azroth are as close as I come to having children. The phoenix and the dragon. I expect soon I shall count you as one of mine as well.”

Nienna stared at the bitter Guardian with her mouth open. Did the woman really own Zared and Ross? Did they realize that? Or were they slaves like her?

“You would count me as one of your children?” Nienna asked, unsure of how to feel about this.

Fiora smiled. “You have proven yourself to be very capable and are kinder than most people realize.”

Nienna turned back to the view of the city, but barely saw anything beyond the brick beneath her hands. She turned away and walked down the cobbles until they got back to the street level.

She glanced at Aspen who now walked with his hands in his pockets and eyes downcast. Not a great guard.

“Is what she said true?” Nienna asked.

“Every word.”