"Without a word, without a glance at the Gedri (who yet had heeded some inner voice and gathered in homage), the Greater Kindred leapt into the sky and left the land forever.
"This is the cause of the Great Ban. Kantri and Gedri must not meet, lest the Kantri take delayed vengeance, or another Demonlord arise among the Gedri.
"This took place five thousand years ago.
"It is the blink of an eye to the Kantrishakrim."
I sat on the cold ground, my arms wrapped around my knees and my cloak around all, as he finished his tale. I felt a little drunk and a little ill. The world of the moonlit glade had grown hazy about me as I watched the tale unfold, as a mind older than I could imagine sent thoughts behind my eyes. I sat calm and peaceful in that time when the Two Kindreds lived in harmony, was devastated by death and betrayal, watched in breathless horror as the Lesser Kindred fell from the sky, rejoiced with a dark joy when the Demonlord was destroyed, flew back exhausted with the Greater Kindred, and quietly wept at their final departure from the lands I knew.
In the back of my mind I heard the warning of the bards. The eyes of a dragon are perilous deep… I knew then a little of why that is so, a little of our shared history in the world, and I could only weep. I did not meet Akor's eyes when he had finished, letting instead my tears fall silently onto my cloak.
I knew many of the bardic songs about Dragons—I had sought them out since I was a child—and none, had more than hinted at a time when the Two Peoples had lived together in peace.
For a while we were both silent. The cold darkness closed in around us, the small sounds of life stilled in the deep night. The moon had sunk down in the sky, but there still was enough light when I looked up to show the outline of that terrifying, expressionless face, like a blank silver shield. His body that had shone like the moon on the sea was now only a lighter patch in the darkness.
"I too am much moved by the tale, Lanen Kaelar," he said softly in truespeech. "Your tears honour me."
"They honour the Lesser Kindred," I replied aloud, surprised at the depth of feeling I had discovered for creatures I had been told were little more than cattle. I cannot explain why I felt as I did, but it seemed to me that all my sorrow, all my long desire to speak with Dragons had led me to this place and distilled into this: that I should bring our two peoples together, and that I should set the Lesser Kindred free. What good I thought I could do, all alone, against thousands of years of mistrust and the power of a Demonlord, I cannot now imagine: but such are the dreams of youth, too gloriously stupid to realise what cannot be done.
And without those dreams, how should we ever accomplish the impossible?
"Akor, is there nothing to be done?" I cried urgently as I rose to my feet. My heart was in my voice, as were the tears that had dampened my cloak. "In all this time, have your people found nothing that can help those poor trapped souls?"
He was silent. I stumbled a bit from sitting long in the cold and began to pace the clearing to warm myself, and because the plight of the Lesser Kindred spoke to my heart and would not let me be still.
Akor moved in the darkness. I waited for his words: ached for them; he was silent yet for some time. From what I could see, he stood in an odd position and seemed distracted, as if he warred within himself and only the victor might speak.
I paced back and forth, stamping and rubbing my arms to try and coax a little warmth back into my hands and feet.
"Akhor, you must not! Already she knows more of us than any Gedri since the Peace. Would you tell her all? And what more of her people have we learned? Always it is her questions you answer, never she yours."
"And what should we ask of her, Shikrar? Have you questions to ask the Gedri? I have a few, indeed, but they are mere curiosity. The child has barely begun to live, and will surely die long before she has time to learn aught of much interest to us. I have touched her heart, my friend. She will not harm us, and there is no taint of the Rakshasa in her. "
"There is always room in the hearts of the Gedri for the Rakshasa. They are free to choose, Akhor, and they may change at any moment. I tell you, be wary! Her very weakness is her strength. Through if she may learn enough to destroy those of us who remain. "
"I shall be on my guard. But I must answer her last question. Her concern deserves that at least."
"Very well. But keep your answer short, and end this meeting as soon as you may."
Lanen had begun pacing back and forth, rubbing her arms. It looked most peculiar. I decided to indulge my curiosity and Shikrar's prejudice.
"What are you doing, little one?"
"Waiting for your answer," she replied. I was amused to hear an edge of anger in her voice. How quickly the Gedri change! Not long since she had been terrified of me. Then she said, "Oh, you mean walking around? I'm cold, this is the only way I know of to get warm without a fire."
I couldn't resist.
"Go fetch some wood and set it ready," I told her.
She furrowed her face at me but did as I asked. "I must ask about that sometime," I reminded myself idly.
"Stand clear," I told her.
As soon as she was out of the way, I summoned my Fire and breathed on the wood.
I've always been proud of my aim.
I leapt back as a thin stream of fire shot past me and struck the wood. It instantly burst into roaring flame, fiercer by far than any tire I had known." The warmth was most welcome, though, and once I was sure he wasn't going to do any more than that, I stood near. I shuddered gladly with the heat as it began to thaw my hands and face, and smiled when I heard a gentle hissing laugh from Akor. It was just occurring to me that I had at last seen dragonfire when Akor said, "Do you know, Lanen, this is probably the first time since the Peace that our two Kindreds have cooperated in even so simple a thing as this?"
I thought of the lansip harvest, but realised that was not so much cooperation as simple permission. My, no, our little fire suddenly warmed me more deeply. A little light in centuries of darkness, just like the flickering soulgems of the Lost Ones....
"Akor, forgive me, I must ask again. Are you certain there is nothing to be done for the Lesser Kindred?" "
He drew in a deep breath and let out as human a sigh as I could imagine.
"We have sought to aid them ever since it happened, Lanen. We have tried everything we can think of countless times in the hope that some new voice, some new soul's influence might make the difference. If it lay in the power of the Kindred to do aught, they would have been restored long since. Surely you do not think we neglect our own kin, or forget that they lie trapped? At least that is what most of us believe."
"Is there some question?" she asked.
"There are those who say the gems of the Lost Ones flicker only with demonfire, and that the souls of those who bore them are long since passed to the Winds. "I paused. "It could be so, in truth, but my heart rebels at the idea. And they do not smell of the Rakshasa. No, since I came into my own I have dreamt of them, the Lost Ones, calling ceaselessly to us, their blood and bone, to release them. It haunts me as it does Shikrar, in whose charge the soulgems lie. I do not doubt that they are imprisoned and aware. The wonder would be if they were still sane."
She stood silent for a moment, in what looked like the Attitude of Deep Thought. It was obscurely pleasing to me that the Gedri seemed to use Attitudes instinctively, as we did, though theirs were as minimal as those of the eldest of my people. They had developed mobile faces to express their thoughts, which meant they used only a small range of Attitudes. However, I was beginning to intuit some of the meanings of those facial expressions, combined as they were with voice and stance. In all my studies, none had ever mentioned how their faces changed. I was entranced.