Page 49 of The Last Dragon

“The art of combat.”

“That’s an interesting one.” Rhazek turned toward the camp, scanning the horses for his son.

“I’ll let Lyara know. You just stay put and offer feedback. Take your time, Cassian. I don’t know where you’re rushing off to, but please, take your time.”

In the morning, the dragon allowed himself a respite among the clan. Cassian had set about doing what he did best: telling stories so they would not be forgotten. This was the legacy of the Drakensyl and the alchemists: passing on knowledge so that it might survive.

Sitting in the grass, surrounded by a group of nomads, Cassian captivated his audience. A young healer, seated beside him, seemed dazzled by the aura the mercenary exuded. Amid herds of horses grazing peacefully, he used alchemy to illustrate his stories, snapping his fingers to conjure specters of glowing red smoke from a small pile of sulfur.

“Cassian, go on!” someone exclaimed. “What happened when Morgraves caught up with you?”

With a mischievous glance, Cassian conjured a fiery phoenix in his palm, whose glow turned blue.

“Well, the blue phoenix found its way to the glowing power… The sight of a dragon petrifies the crowds, doesn’t it?”

“My God, was it a dragon? The one everyone’s talking about? The one that burned Veylaris?” asked the young woman, terrified.

“None of that. You can only summon a dragon if you’re one of them, my friend. It was just a ruse to plunge the kingdom into the abyss of a terrifying flame. The sky turned to fire and then came silence. Like a storm: it screams its anger, then moves on.”

Cassian transformed the phoenix into a smoke dragon before sweeping it away with a flick of his wrist. Lyara frowned. “Don’t you think Phineas will come after you for your power?”

“It’s not just my power that’s at stake. Tariel is half of that power… Without him, I could never have summoned such a force.”

He continued, ignoring the curious murmurs the elf’s name provoked. “Phineas is convinced I can kill the dragon. The elves think the same of Tariel. But the Alliance is faltering. Veylaris has burned, Morgraves is on its knees… Only Malveth and the elven kingdom remain, and Phineas won’t seek out the elves; he needs allies to stand against the return of the flames.”

“Do you think it could destroy the elven kingdom?”

It was at that moment that movement caught his eye. Cassian turned his head, and his words died in his throat.

Tariel was walking toward the group, escorted by Rhazek’s daughters, who seemed smugly proud of their work.

The elf was unrecognizable.

His long white hair had been braided into a series of intricate plaits, framing his face and neck with regal elegance. He had been dressed in light, silky linen that let his porcelain complexion and the faint blush on his cheeks stand out. He looked so delicate, so precious in the morning light, that the contrast with his muddy adventurer’s attire was almost indecent.

Cassian felt a familiar heaviness in his chest, a mixture of pride and worry. In this light, Tariel was no longer a fugitive, nor even an adventurer on a mission: he was a vision.

It took the mercenary a second too long to regain his composure under the elf’s intrigued gaze.

Cassian’s blue eyes then met Tariel’s. A heavy silence fell over the crowd as they took in this new guest. After a beat, he finally found his voice:

“The question isn’t whether he can, but whether he will. Malveth is his next stop—that much is certain. That’s where Tariel and I are headed, to try to make contact with the dragon.”

“You’re going where?!”

The crowd looked dumbfounded.

“How do you expect to find the dragon without him killing you? Dragons have disappeared! The members of the royal family were all dragged through the ashes and mud by Malveth—”

“That’s what the Alliance wants you to think,” Cassian interrupted.

He patted the grass beside him, a gentler smile stretching across his lips, inviting the elf to take a seat in the circle.

“You wanted answers? Come, Tariel. “

As the elf took his seat, still feeling a little uncomfortable in his new attire, Cassian conjured two dragons of smoke in his palm: one yellowish, the other bluish.

“Dragons are divided into two families. The classic dragons, who exist only in their animal form—intelligent beings drawn to gold. And then there are the shape-shifting dragons, beings capable of taking human form. They are significantly more powerful, as they can rally other dragons to their cause. The Drakensyl lineage was the only one capable of such power. They are considered outcasts on the island they share with the Malveth.”