Dragonmage of Mystara

CHAPTER ONE

Thelvyn Fox-Eyes stood atop a rounded boulder amid towering pines on the steep mountainside, looking out across the dark, still expanse of forest that lay to the west. It was already nearly midmorning, although the sun was only now rising above the mountains behind him. It was cold for so late in the morning, so that he could still see the white mists of his breath when he stood with the sun at his back. But even the harsh cold of the northland winter had been of little consequence to him in the months since he had assumed his true form as a dragon. The bite of the icy air did not penetrate his thick armor.

As he watched and waited, the lean, graceful form of a gold dragon suddenly passed directly above him, hurtling down just above the treetops from the heights before rising and making a wide circle above the forest. Kharendaen was not hunting; she flew nearly every morning or evening for the joy of flight. Thelvyn was reminded of how they had flown together so many times in the past. Of course, on those flights, he had ridden in a saddle strapped to the base of her neck rather than actually flying with her. That had changed considerably in the

past few months.

Thelvyn stepped to the front of the large boulder and then leapt out into the morning sky, with only a brief glance at the steep, wooded slope that fell quickly away below him. Even ufter all this time, he could not leap out into the open air without a moment of apprehension. He felt his broad wings snapped out, and he tucked up his legs against his belly as he began to rise with long, powerful strokes of his wings, gathering speed slowly. Flying was hardly as effortless as it looked, but getting airborne was the most difficult part. Once he gained speed and caught the cold mountain winds beneath his wings, it became much easier.

Kharendaen began to circle back slowly to join him. He appreciated her beauty as a dragon would, seeing her as a creature of remarkable grace, even delicacy, with a narrow head and tapered muzzle, deep chest, and long, narrow waist, with powerful haunches and legs for leaping into the sky. As far as he was concerned, this was and always would be the true Kharendaen, although he had by now become used to having her about in her Eldar form as well. The Eldar were the ancestors of the elves, taller than men and powerfully built, copper-skinned, with black hair and large, black eyes, the same form that Thelvyn had been forced to assume by enchantment all his prior life. In the past, Kharendaen had also taken the form of the elf Sellianda, although the small, fragile elf maiden had always seemed like another person entirely to him.

The smaller female dragon came up slowly behind him, as if she intended to match his speed and remain close beside him. Instead, she rushed forward at the last moment with quick, powerful sweeps of her wings, darting past his nose so close that he was forced to draw back his head in alarm. The gesture was intended as a playful one, an invitation to match his skill in flight against hers, and she was no longer very forgiving of his inexperience. He turned and followed her as swiftly as he could, using his greater size and weight to overtake her while she remained in a shallow dive. She didn't allow him to draw too close, rising again to place him at a disadvantage, then making a tight turn that he was unable to duplicate.

Thelvyn had been frustrated with such games at first until

Marthaen, Kharendaen's older brother, had informed him privately that female dragons were almost always swifter than the males of the same breed, since they were leaner and lighter. And no dragon in the world was swifter in flight than a female gold. Thelvyn had to push himself to the limit just to hold his own, struggling not only with his inexperience but also with his large size. Still, he realized as he followed her twists and turns, maneuvers that had once taken a conscious effort were now beginning to feel natural.

He was beginning to feel comfortable using the small sails just behind and below his wings, attached to the base of his tail, to take all the effort of steering himself, folding and spreading the sails at need. Dropping his tail with the sails unfurled also helped to slow him quickly by cupping the wind. He was also beginning to acquire a feel for the air currents about him, knowing without deliberately searching where he would find rising or falling pockets of air, whether there was a strong wind or none at all. Learning to fly had been especially difficult for him, since he had to learn as a full-size adult, while most dragons learned to fly at a relatively young age. He still had dreams at night about falling.

Kharendaen suddenly broke off her playful antics and drifted on the morning breeze, as if she were listening to some distant voice. Thelvyn also spread his wings and glided, careful to keep his distance so he would not disturb her. After a moment she glanced over at him, then drifted as close as she dared to his side.

"I have been called," she said plainly. "The Great One wishes to give me new instructions."

"He wishes to speak with you?" Thelvyn asked, surprised. For whatever unknown reason, the Great One had had very little communication, even with his most trusted clerics, for the past twenty years.

"I half expected him to speak to me in a dream last night," she remarked. "But that is not important. We must return to Shadowmere at once."

She turned and headed northward, away from the mountains where they had been playing and out over the broad forests. Kharendaen set a brisk pace, although that was not a mutter of concern to Thelvyn. He might not be the most agile of dragons in the air, but he had grown swift and tireless in long, straight flights over open land. Shadowmere lay somewhere in the center of the great pocket of woods that lay encircled within the mountains of the great Wendarian Range. Known to both the dragons and to the elves of Wendar as the Foxwoods, this was an ancient, enchanted land blanketed in a deep, dark forest of the tallest trees in the entire world.

Shadowmere had at one time been the largest and most important sanctuary of the Great One. Thelvyn's own mother, Arbendael, had been the senior cleric and mistress of this place, before the attack of the rogue dragons had forced her to llee into the wild. Shadowmere had been abandoned since that time, until late the previous summer when the Great One had Kharendaen bring Thelvyn here so that the spell preventing him from becoming a dragon could be removed. They had remained here ever since, together with Sir George and nearly a score of dragon clerics who had come to serve them and restore the sanctuary to life. Elvish clerics later emerged from the forests of Wendar to join them; the half-wild northern elves looked to both Terra and the Great One as their protectors, and many had become clerics of the dragon Immortal. They had served at Shadowmere in the past, and they had been eager to return.

The sanctuary was difficult to locate from above, hidden as it was by the great trees of the Foxwoods. Fortunately, dragons were guided in flight by an unerring instinct for direction far more accurate than sight, a magical instinct that guided them even to places they knew only by description. Thelvyn's own sense of direction was still developing, so he depended upon Kharendaen to guide him. Soon she began to descend slowly in a wide circle above a deep well of darkness in the forest that was the small clearing in the center of the sanctuary.

Thelvyn followed her down with some misgivings. The steep, rapid descent into the clearing had always been tricky for him, and he had injured himself slightly on a couple of occasions. He preferred to go in first, so that he would not collide with Kharendaen if he lost control while landing.

He began his landing by dropping his tail and spreading his sails to slow himself until he felt he was just about to drop, cupping his vast wings to catch as much air as they could as he descended through the trees. The clearing still lay in morning shadow, so that even the night vision of a dragon could not show him the ground clearly until he was almost down. Only then was he able to select the exact place where he would land. He lowered himself with long, sharp thrusts of his wings until he struck the earth heavily on his braced legs. Kharendaen joined him a moment later, slowing herself and then landing lightly with long, graceful sweeps of her wings in the clearing several yards to his right.

She folded away her wings and walked over to join him, dipping her head to rub her nose gently against his chest, a draconic gesture of affection. Kharendaen had always been boundless in her affection, even in their first five years together when he would have never guessed that she loved him. He would have never thought that dragons, with their reputation as fierce, solitary creatures, were also capable of being deeply passionate. He had been surprised to find that dragons even kissed, although they were more fond of rubbing their faces and necks together. Their sense of touch through their leathery plates was rather different from what he had been used to as a human. Touch was more vague, yet dragons craved it all the more, apparently for that very reason.

Side by side, they walked across the clearing to a ring of rocky hills that formed the sanctuary itself. The face of the hills was lined by a great structure of stone and wood.

Thelvyn wondered about this sudden willingness of the Great One to speak. He had been expecting something like this ever since he had become a dragon, when the Great One had told him that he could be given only until the coming spring to learn the ways of his new life before his services would be needed. He and Kharendaen both had thought it best for him to remain in hiding while he became accustomed to life as a dragon. Since it hardly seemed likely that the dragons would be ready to accept him yet, he was inclined to dread the task of trying to convince them to accede to his leadership.

A couple of the younger dragons and several of the elves were busy in the inner yard of the sanctuary, attending their morning chores. Kharendaen led the way through the open doors into the main hall of the sanctuary, where she paused a moment to look about. A few dragon clerics, Sir George among them, were reclining on the massive couches, reading from large books set on stands before them. Sir George saw that his companions were staring at him and left his own chair near the fire and hurried over to join them.

"We must leave," Kharendaen explained simply. "The Great One has summoned us."

"I have no idea that what he wants," Thelvyn said, making a vague gesture when Sir George glanced up at him. "The Great One never talks to me, which is probably just as well. I dread what he might have to say."

"You may stay or go with us as you prefer," Kharendaen told the old knight. "But I warn you that we may not return here any time soon."

"Some things are easy enough to guess," Sir George said. "If the Great One thinks that the time has come for action, it will most likely involve finding the Collar of the Dragons. And you'll need me for that. Would it be fair of me to ask where we're going?"

"To Silvermist, of course," Kharendaen explained simply.

Sir George hurried away to prepare for their journey, while the two dragons went to their own chamber to collect the few things they would need. Thelvyn had a harness that he had never before needed to wear, since he had never traveled as a dragon. Although he did not carry any weapons, such as the dragon-sized sword that Marthaen usually sported, he did need the pouches for a few things such as his spellbook. One of the more difficult and unexpected adjustments he had had to make since he assumed dragon form was being naked all the time. While he had never thought of dragons as being naked, he had certainly felt that way. He was rather surprised when he saw Kharendaen pulling on the straps of her saddle, the same saddle in which he had ridden for five years as the Dragonlord.

"I can carry Sir George," he offered.

"I do not doubt that you can," she said agreeably. "But I doubt that the straps of the saddle are large enough to fit around your neck. This saddle was made specifically for me.

Do you feel ready to make such a long flight?"

"Yes, I believe so," he answered. "At least, I had better be. I seem to be running out of the time I was given to learn to be a dragon."

Kharendaen seemed very calm and businesslike about the upcoming journey and the purpose behind it, as if she considered it a matter of no great importance. Thelvyn was grateful that she took such an easygoing attitude, since it helped to calm his own apprehensions. Soon he might discover the answers to many of the mysteries that had surrounded him since he had learned that he was a dragon, particularly the remaining secrets of his origin and the part he was expected to play in the destiny of his race. He could only hope that those secrets were something that he would be pleased to discover.

The matter of his assuming the role of the Dragonking remained the greatest enigma to him. The dragons had awaited the coming of the Dragonking since the time of the first Dragonlord, when, according to prophecy, he would take up the Collar of the Dragons and become the first true king of their race. But the prophecy did not explain why the Dragonking was needed, or what he would do for the benefit of his people. As far as Thelvyn could tell, the troubles that the dragons had faced for the past three decades were more or less at an end. Their war with Alphatia had concluded in their favor, and their uncertain relationship with the Dragonlord was resolved. Everything should return to normal once the Collar of the Dragons was found, and the Great One had already told him that the recovery of the collar would be Thelvyn's task.

Thelvyn found dragons much more daunting, rather than less so, since he had become one himself. Perhaps, he thought, that was because both his own role and the methods he could use to carry out his policies had changed. Being the Dragonlord had been a relatively simple matter; if a dragon was a problem, he had the power and the invulnerability as the Dragonlord to enforce his will. As the Dragonking, he was hardly any more powerful than other dragons; in fact, he was disadvantaged by his own inexperience and possessed no special invulnerabilities. He suspected that, as the king of the dragons, he would be expected to enforce his will not by force

or threat of violence but by more subtle and complex means.

The two dragons needed only a few minutes to prepare themselves for their journey, so they returned to the yard to wait for Sir George. Kharendaen spoke briefly with the senior clerics who would remain at Shadowmere, agreeing that the sanctuary should remain occupied unless the clerics were called away to serve elsewhere. Thelvyn was reminded again that it was probably his place to be making the decisions, if he was truly worthy of being the Dragonking, but he was reluctant to because he knew so little of the affairs of dragons. While he was most likely a cleric of the Great One himself, he preferred to stay out the business of the true clerics.

Sir George came out a short time later, tying his own travel bags to the straps before climbing up into Kharendaen's saddle. The two dragons crouched low and then leapt into the air as their broad wings snapped out, calling upon all the strength they commanded to lift themselves upward in a tight spiral through the narrow opening in the trees. Thelvyn felt better once they had risen above the forest and settled into their long flight. Their plan was to remain in the remote and uninhabited lands of the mountains for nearly the entire journey, traveling eastward along the Wendarian Range, southward over the Colossus Mountains, over the Broken Lands and then eastward again over the Altan Tepes between Rock-home and Alfheim.

Sir George had flown in Kharendaen's saddle before, and thus he took the long journey in stride. Of course, he had also known dragon flight from a more intimate perspective than that of a mere passenger, but not for some years now. Sir George was secretly a mandrake, one of the smaller dragon-kin, and his inclusion in the greater Nation of Dragons had allowed him to claim the right to remain in Thelvyn's company. Unfortunately, Sir George had lost his left hand in combat years earlier, and his wing was damaged correspondingly when he took mandrake form, leaving him incapable of flight.

It was an advantage for the dragons to remain in the mountains as much as possible on such long journeys, since they could conserve their strength by riding the winds. Thelvyn wondered how long this flight would take. In the past,

Kharendaen had always made the trip from Braejr to Thyatis, as far apart as any two cities in the civilized eastern region of the continent, in a single day. The distance from Shadowmere to the sanctuary of Silvermist in Alfheim was considerably less. Kharendaen could easily reach their destination that same day. The only real question, he realized, was whether or not he could remain in flight for that long.

He was almost surprised when they passed southward from the Wendarian Range over the deep pass of the Northern Reach later that morning. He had traveled the Flaemish Frontier in the saddle of a horse often in the past, when a similar journey would have taken three days or more. He was surprised to find that he was holding up well, although Kharendaen insisted that they stop for a brief rest shortly after midday, when they were approaching the southern end of the rugged Colossus Mountains. Thelvyn felt he could have kept going, but he was glad for the rest. Sir George seemed to be having the hardest time of them all. He was no longer quite so used to long hours in the saddle, especially a rather wide dragon saddle.

"I can make it all the way to Silvermist today, I'm certain," Thelvyn assured his mate. "We should be nearly halfway there by now anyway."

"That is just as well," she responded. "The Great One wants us to be there by tonight."

They were on their way again soon, although they had only just returned to the sky when Kharendaen suddenly dropped back close to Thelvyn's side, slowing quickly. He looked around sharply, quickly spying a small band of six dragons approaching them from the west, hurtling forward with long, quick strokes of their wings on a course to intercept them. Since they were coming closer in a hurry, Thelvyn was soon able to see that they were all young red dragons, and he was immediately reminded of the rogue dragons from the time when he had first become the Dragonlord.

"Will they recognize me?" Thelvyn asked.

"I suspect they will," Kharendaen replied. "A dragon always knows another dragon by sight, even a dragon who has changed form. Some of them might have been in the Fox-woods on that night when you first took your true form. And, remember, you have rather remarkable features, so they might recognize you by appearance alone."

Thelvyn realized it was unlikely that these dragons would not know him. And Kharendaen was right about his features being remarkable; his muzzle was long and slender, and his large eyes were set somewhat more forward than usual even for a gold, giving him a distinctly feral appearance. Even in dragon form, he deserved the name 'Fox-Eyes' more than ever.

"They are all young red dragons," Kharendaen continued. " 1 suspect that one of the red leaders such as Jherdar has sent this band to watch the Highlands secretly from here in the mountains."

"Perhaps I should handle this," Thelvyn said. "I am an authority they have to respect, as both the Dragonlord and the Dragonking, whether they like it or not. And you have to watch out for Sir George."

"It's good not to be completely forgotten," the old knight remarked.

They turned and circled around toward the face of the mountain they had been skirting, preparing to land on the highest of a cluster of jagged boulders standing out from the steep, barren mountainside. This was one of the most difficult n icks that Thelvyn had yet attempted, landing atop a massive stone hardly large enough for him to stand with the cliff face blocking his approach from behind. He knew he needed to do it well, so that he would not appear awkward and inexperienced before the red dragons. He chose the highest of the rocky perches and landed without incident, and Kharendaen settled on a boulder close beside him, so that the young dragons were forced to land farther below them.

"Greetings, former Dragonlord," the leader of the reds called up to him in a mocking tone.

Thelvyn glared, aware that he was being subtly challenged. His best bet was to bluff his way through this confrontation, since he still was an unknown factor to these dragons. They could not ignore the fact that he was the chosen of the Great One, destined to become the Dragonking.

"Whoever told you that was mistaken," Thelvyn answered

coolly. "I am still the Dragonlord."

That gave them something to think about, and a few of them began to mutter softly among themselves. They were now more uncertain than ever about daring to confront him.

"But that is not an issue," Thelvyn continued, not wanting to lose the initiative. "I see that you are standing guard over the Highlands, Did Jherdar put you to this task, or are you here by the order of Marthaen and the parliament?"

"We are red dragons. We answer to Jherdar," their leader responded proudly. "But jherdar has made it known that he still defers to the leadership of the gold dragon Marthaen, and we are here by his order. But I do not recognize your authority to command us."

"I have not given you any command," Thelvyn replied. "We are traveling to the sanctuary of Silvermist, and our business does not concern you. By the will of the Great One, you will allow us to pass."

The leader of the red dragons lifted his head sharply, responding to the challenge, then dropped his neck slowly as he began to hackle in rising fury. His companions rose to stand with their wings half-furled, ready to leap into battle. Thelvyn stood slowly, a gesture that was quietly menacing in its confidence, and he arched his long neck and back so that his crest lifted. He was bluffing, only too aware that his inexperience left him overmatched if there were a fight, but dragons settled most of their differences with posturing and bluff. His advantage was not only in his size as a gold dragon, but also in the formidable weight of his reputation.

The red dragon did not back down at once, but the fact that neither did he spring proved that he was hesitant to take on the Dragonking. After another tense moment, Thelvyn crouched forward toward his enemy, arching his back and lifting his half-furled wings. If he pushed his opponent too hard, the red dragon's fury would be stirred past the point of no return. But the red dragon relaxed slowly, careful that he did not look frightened or ashamed for backing down.

"Then I can only wish you well," he remarked darkly.

That seemed to be the end of the matter as far as the leader of the band was concerned. Without another word, he leapt outward from the large boulder on which he had been sitting, spreading his wings to head west, back toward the border of the Highlands. The other dragons followed him quickly. thelvyn waited until they were well away before he relaxed, lowering his head and laying back his ears.

"That went rather well," Sir George commented. "It was perhaps the first time I've seen you impress a dragon without to much threat of force. Except for Kharendaen, who had her own reasons for being impressed with you."

"I have to agree," Kharendaen said, bending her long neck lo glance briefly at the old knight. "The great, almost mindless fear that the dragons have held for the Dragonlord seems to be lading, replaced with the seeds of respect. Of course, so far that respect is due mostly to the fact that the Great One has endorsed you, and they are tremendously relieved that the Great One has returned. They also will not forget that you did not kill dragons during their conflict with the Highlands."

"Which is not to say that simply wearing the Collar of the Dragons will be enough to make me accepted as the true 1)ragonking," Thelvyn said. "I recognize that I must earn their respect, and I know that older dragons like Jherdar will be difficult to impress."

They continued on, passing swiftly over the rugged, desolate wastelands of the northeastern fringe of the Broken Lands. They did not dare to land or even fly too low, since there was no guarantee the ores or other evil folk who dwelled there would have the sense not to attack a pair of dragons. Renegade dragons often made alliances with ores or goblins, buying their loyalty with plunder, or simply capturing and enslaving all the warriors they required to serve them. But gold dragons were never renegades, so Thelvyn and Kharendaen would be recognized as enemies. *

Night was falling swiftly by the time they began to descend over the dark woodlands of the Canolbarth Forest on the far northern border of Alfheim. Already it was too dark to spot the clearing of the sanctuary of Silvermist, so Thelvyn was forced to follow his mate and trust to her instinct to find her way. Kharendaen had been here often and had even lived here for several years in the guise of the elf maiden Sellianda, so she

found it relatively easy to know where she was going.

The dragons descended into darkness, and Thelvyn braced his legs to catch himself when he landed. Suddenly warm lights appeared out of the deep shadows beneath the forest, and a moment later he landed in the wide yard before the large, rustic house that was the sanctuary of Silvermist. The main door burst open, and several elves hurried out to greet their visitors, keeping a discreet distance while the dragons folded away their wings. Sir George had already dropped down from his saddle, and Kharendaen crouched so he could remove his bags.

Silvermist was just as Thelvyn remembered it from nearly six years earlier. This place had always been special to him, although he had been here only once before. This was where he had first met Kharendaen, even if he had not known that it was her until recently. He was now aware that Silvermist was not a sanctuary of the Immortal Terra, as most outsiders believed, but of the Great One himself. For the first time, he was able to see that several of the elves were actually dragons in enchanted form. Previously, his natural ability to detect dragon-kin had been suppressed as a part of the spell that had prevented him from assuming his true form.

The only member of the gathering Thelvyn recognized was Derrion, a true elf. He approached Kharendaen eagerly, as if they were old friends. The tall female elf in his company, an enchanted dragon, was clearly the senior cleric of this sanctuary. Thelvyn suspected that this dragon cleric in enchanted form had come here to replace Kharendaen when she had left here five years earlier to serve the Dragonlord in her true form.

"Ferial," Kharendaen said, greeting the dragon cleric. "The last I had heard, you were at a sanctuary in the south of Alfheim."

"I have been here since you departed," Ferial replied. Then, to Thelvyn's surprise, she led the others in turning and bowing to him in respect. "Hail, Dragonking."

"That remains to be seen, but I thank you anyway," he answered awkwardly.

"How may we serve you?" Ferial asked.

"We have been directed here to speak with the Great One ti might at his sacred place," Kharendaen explained. "We must he going there soon."

"We can at least offer you a quick meal," Ferial suggested.

Kharendaen removed her saddle and changed form, since the bulk of a gold dragon was awkward and inconvenient indoors. She did not return to the shape of the elf maiden Sel-lianda but took her Eldar form, taller and darker than modern olves, as she had when Thelvyn had last seen her. Thelvyn also removed his harness, but then he hesitated. He hadn't changed form since the night when the Great One had broken the spell that had held him in Eldar form. For a moment, landing on two legs was as difficult for him as walking on four had been at first.

"There are perhaps fewer of us here than you might recall," Ferial said as they walked slowly toward the house. "Several of i he dragons flew back to the north last autumn when the northern sanctuaries were opened once again."

"Did many clerics of the Great One stay here in Alfheim during the last few years?" Thelvyn asked.

"That is so. Although we were not exactly in disgrace during the time of the Great One's absence, disappearing for a time helped us avoid difficult questions we were not permitted to answer."

They were given food and drink, then talked with the clerics of Silvermist for a time. Later Sir George was shown to his room, while Kharendaen and Thelvyn returned to dragon form and followed the forest path to the Great One's sacred place. The small, quiet pool below the waterfall was just as Thelvyn remembered it, and he was more sensitive than ever to the sense of ancient magic and a strange, mystical presence. This place was much smaller and more intimate than the sanctuary at Shadowmere. Even cleriis did not often enter the sacred places unless they were invited.

The dragons did not sit together on the narrow bank at the near end of the pool as they had before. Instead, Kharendaen led them to the wide bank at the far end, where the cool water drained into a small forest stream. This bank was clad in deep, thick grass, not easily damaged by the armored bulk of dragons. Kharendaen settled herself on the bank to wait, and

Thelvyn sat close beside her.

"I do not believe that our wait will be a long one," she offered. "The Great One is no longer so restricted in his ability to act."

"And so it begins," Thelvyn remarked softly, almost to himself.

Kharendaen turned her head to regard him curiously. "Are you concerned?"

"I'm not frightened, if that's what you mean," he explained. "I've come to trust that I will always be granted the powers and even the guidance I need to do any task required of me. However, I am worried about making mistakes, especially because of my inexperience as a dragon. And more than anything else, I find myself regretting that we never had any real time together, to lead a common, uneventful life."

"I fear you ask the one thing that I cannot give you," a voice said, speaking out of the darkness.

They looked up sharply to see that the Great One had quiedy manifested himself before them. He had not assumed the fierce and intimidating form of the great three-headed dragon as he sometimes did. Instead, he appeared in what may have been his true form, that of an old, wise dragon of some ancient breed, perhaps the ancestors of the golds. His ghostly form, radiating a soft light, seated itself on the mossy bank to their left.

"I know that you both must have many questions," he went on. "I fear that even now I cannot tell you everything that you might wish to know, but my powers are still returning, as you will soon understand. It is best that you proceed only a step at a time. The dragons face a new and unexpected danger. Only by acting together will they survive and prosper, and only you can bring them that unity."

"I recall being told, when I first became the Dragonlord, that a part of my task was to bring unity to the dragons in their time of conflict," Thelvyn said. "It is my impression that their conflicts have been largely resolved."

"Only their conflicts with themselves," the Great One answered. "The future of your people begins with you, and you must begin by understanding your past. All that you have been told is true. You are indeed Thelvaenir, a gold dragon and the child of the dragon cleric Arbendael. Have you given any thought about who your father might be?"

"That matter has eluded us," Kharendaen answered for him. "We know that none of the senior gold dragons such as Gheradaen or Lhorandyn could be his father, which leaves us with no hint of just who it might be."

"That is because his father is not a gold dragon," the Great One said. "I thought the full extent of my involvement in this matter would have been more obvious. You see, I am his father."

The Great One's statement was so unexpected that Thelvyn did not even appreciate its implications at first. He had to know more, and he needed time to consider what he was hearing before he could make sense of it. Kharendaen was so surprised that she had to sit down, and her unusual reaction distracted him from his thoughts.

"I always thought that was impossible," she said after a moment. "The Immortals have great powers, but their ability to interact directly with our world and the people in it is rather limited. Some of these restrictions they have placed upon themselves and each other to prevent insensitive or ambitious Immortals from using our world as their own. But it was my understanding that there were some things an Immortal simply did not have the power to do, such as having a child."

"That is true," the Great One said. "But my need for a special champion was great, so great that many other Immortals aided me or at least promised not to interfere in my quest to bring forth a champion to lead the dragons and save their world. But I will speak more of that in the near future. I confided the details of the danger and my secret need only to the gold dragon Arbendael, and she agreed to bear my child. But to accomplish that, I had to surrender for a time the greatest part of my own Immortality, so that I again became little more than a mortal dragon cleric."

"And that was why you removed yourself from the affairs of the dragons?" Kharendaen asked, lifting her head. "For more than two decades now, we have not known if you were forced to abandon us or if you had done so by choice."

"It was a dangerous time for the dragons, and I knew that it would be," he continued. "That was why I could give only limited help when Thelvyn's mother was pursued by the rogue dragons. At the time, I realized that Thelvyn would be best protected if he was brought up apart from dragons, and safer still if the dragons had no knowledge of his birth. I was required to spend many years since then in my own plane, regaining my former strength. I have not yet recovered fully, and I admit that Thelvyn is not as ready as he could be, but we are running out of time."

Thelvyn looked rather bemused. "At least now I have the answer to one question that has always bothered me. Why me? Now I know."

"That is so," the Great One agreed. "You were created for a specific purpose, to lead the dragons through their time of greatest danger and to set them on the path that will guide them toward a higher stage in their development. Needless to say, you are more than just a dragon, and more than just one of my clerics. Because of your heritage, you are inherently wiser and more powerful than other dragons and therefore suited to your task. But the dragons, especially the lesser, more violent breeds, already upset because I had removed myself from their affairs, did not understand the prophecy and assumed that you were being sent to subjugate them."

Thelvyn sighed. "Then what choice do I have? If I am needed, I must serve."

"You have always had a choice," the Great One insisted. "You are not my tool or my slave. You are my son, and that means no less to me than it would to any other dragon. But you serve best if you do so by choice, as your own master. And for now, we both have much to do. Do you accept this responsibility?"

"Of course I do," Thelvyn said without hesitation.

"Then this is the task I set before you, if you will accept it. The war of the dragons is not over. Mighty forces are allied against them, and the dragons face defeat if you do not rally them. To this end, you must find the lost Collar of the Dragons."

"I understand," Thelvyn said as the vision of the Great One faded into the night.