199

"I was terrified of dragons."

Myrah scoffed softly as she moved closer. From the rooftop, she could hear the ocean in the distance, even if they couldn't quite make it out in the dim starlight.

"Who wasn't?" she murmured, and Hershel chuckled softly.

"Fair enough. But our village was right on the border of Dragon Territory. They were already in hiding by the time I was old enough to remember…but the stories people would tell were gruesome. The villagers used to tell us that they liked eating children best. I had nightmares about them all the time."

Hershel turned to face her now, the glow of his eyes visible despite the dim light of night. His arms rested on the wall that bordered the walkways on the roof.

"Your turn," he pointed out softly. "What were you afraid of growing up?"

Myrah paused, lost in thought for a few moments. She nearly said dragons as well—after all, they were the biggest threat to Oni kind during that time. But then she realized that if she was to be honest, the dragon threat was so far in the back of her mind most of her childhood. "I think I was the most afraid of being inconsequential."

Hershel didn't reply, but she could see him studying her. No doubt reading her emotions. It was uncanny to know he had that ability. It wasn't a completely foreign skill to her; she had known that the Xinta Princess was capable of reading emotions— it was why she had always been so careful to guard hers when she had been around Amber. Even now Myrah found herself wanting to close herself off, but she forced her guard down. She could trust Hershel with her innermost feelings.

"There were so many Oni who were basically nameless…faceless," she continued. "People who were pointless. I was terrified I would become someone like that. So I fought hard to be memorable and important."

Myrah felt his hand slip into hers as Hershel chuckled again. She turned to narrow her eyes at him.

"What?" she demanded softly, not sure what he found so funny.

"I grew up trying so hard to become invisible…and here that was your biggest nightmare."

"I didn't have people targeting me like you did," she pointed out. "Fear is learned from experience."

He nodded, and she released his hand so she could wrap her arm around his waist.

"Are you still afraid of dragons?"

"I didn't think so," he admitted. "But then Tolan and I went up to dragon territory and I spent the whole time terrified that one would find us."

She frowned. "When did you go to dragon territory?"

He tugged on her braid; she had worn her hair up today. "Months ago, right after Tolan unlocked his powers. I needed some important flowers that only grow in Dragon Territory, but I also had to try and help him get his powers under control. I really shouldn't have tried to do both; soon I found myself trying to deal with dragons and Tolan, and it nearly did me in."

He seemed to be making a joke, but Myrah frowned at the thought. "So you did meet some dragons, then?"

"Just one. Lightning elemental; nasty thing. The beast and Tolan were bent on destroying each other, and I'm not sure which would have won out in the end if I had allowed them to continue."

Myrah shook her head. She didn't have much experience with Dragons, but she knew Theodynn's former bodyguard well enough to picture the problem.

"How did you all manage to survive?" she asked dryly, and Hershel smiled grimly.

"Stubbornness, a show of power, and a little dumb luck."

"Mmmmm…a combination you use often?" she murmured. Her hand had made its way up into his hair and now she fiddled with the tie keeping it pulled back.

"Not too often anymore."

A shooting star streaked across the inky sky and Hershel followed its path. It winked out before it had completed its plunge into the ocean's horizon, and Myrah felt him shudder as she managed to pull the tie out completely. Hershel looked back over at her, his hand going up to his hair as it fell down around his shoulders.

"Up or down?" he teased softly. "Make up your mind."

She smoothed the hair down around his part, smirking.

"Tonight? Down."

Myrah moved to kiss him, but she felt herself stopped as his hands came to rest on her shoulders.

"Myrah."

She looked up to frown at him. "What's wrong?"

He didn't answer, but suddenly he wasn't meeting her eye.

"Hershel?"

"I think I should go."

She blinked in surprise, the disappointment sinking like a rock in her stomach. "There aren't going to be any interruptions up here," she reminded, keeping her arms wrapped around him to keep him close. "I don't have any meetings tonight—nothing pressing. Besides, Bula isn't going to think to look on the roof."

"There's more I have to do, before…"

He trailed off and Myrah shook her head in confusion, a seed of irritation sprouting. "Before what?" she demanded softly. "Hershel, you have to explain what you…"

"I told you," he cut in, his voice tinged with regret and determination. "I told you I wouldn't be able to give you what you wanted. Not until I know that I have this under control."

"It is under control!" Myrah argued. "You haven't had any problems; you took care of Imgloss and didn't kill him. You didn't react when your family left…even your nightmares are subsiding. What else are we waiting for?"

Her hand came to rest on his face, trying to convince him. But Hershel still wouldn't meet her eye.

"Just because I haven't lost control doesn't mean I'm not still battling with it." He sighed heavily, and Myrah stiffened as he gently pulled her hand off his face. "It's like this internal war," he tried.

It sounded like he was trying to explain it in a way that she would understand. It didn't matter how he explained it, though. She didn't understand his hesitation. It had been over a week since his incident with Tolan…and perhaps that wasn't long enough for him to be confident in his control. But she knew he was fine; she trusted him. Why couldn't he just trust himself?

"Just because the battlefield's quiet doesn't mean that the war is over," Hershel continued. He had slid his hands from her shoulders down to her upper arms. "I need the war to be over."

"And how are either of us supposed to know when this war will finally be over?" she asked quietly. "Hershel…we've waited this long. I don't want to wait anymore…not when there doesn't seem to be any reasons for it."

He flinched. It was hard to see his expression in the darkness around them, the moon waning in the sky. But Myrah's heart fell further when she realized there was fear in his eyes.

"What are you so afraid of?" she asked again. But this time she wasn't talking about childhood fears—this time she wanted to know why he looked so haunted, like he was afraid she would disappear in a puff of smoke. Or perhaps Hershel was afraid that he would disappear in a flash of fog, back to that horrible Island he had only told her a little about. Enough to know it was what had changed him into what he was now. Enough to know that it wanted him back, even though he seemed certain that it couldn't reach him.

Rather than answer, Hershel kissed her. But it wasn't as soft as usual…this time his embrace felt desperate as he pulled her close. Myrah was breathless when Hershel finally hesitated. His words were almost lost to the sound of distant crashing waves.

"I can't lose you."

Something in his tone worried her, and she kissed him gently. "You aren't losing me," she assured. "I just don't want you to lose yourself in all this waiting." He was trembling, and Myrah sighed as she laid her head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry," she finally whispered. "I didn't mean to rush you."

His hand was warm on her neck, and she could feel his breath on the top of her head as he spoke. "I love you. I'll…get this figured out."

She closed her eyes, trying not to worry. Everything could be alright; she just needed to be patient. "You did warn me," she pointed out. "It's not that I want you to rush control. It's just…it already feels like you have control. Perhaps you aren't fully there yet, but I'm betting you're closer than you think."

He kissed the top her of her head. "Maybe."

Myrah's heart fell again as he finally pulled away, and she immediately missed his warmth as the chilly ocean breeze washed over them. "What are your plans for tomorrow, then?" she asked, keeping her voice light. Trying to hide her lingering feelings of disappointment and impatience.

Hershel sighed. "Something I've been meaning to take care of. I just don't know what to expect."

"What do you mean?"

Hershel didn't answer for a moment, tying his hair back at the nape of his neck as the wind started to rustle it. "There's another Ancient," he finally told her. "Besides Imgloss and Pazzol. I mean, Pazzol is still on the Island as far as I know. But I can sense another, and I need to go figure out who they are and what their intentions could be. An Ancient that nobody knows about could be peaceful…or they could be hidden away, plotting something. The flame seems dimmer than others—veiled. But I can still see them if I focus."

Myrah was taken aback. "You can sense them? Who are they?"

"I don't know. Honestly, all I can sense is their location. But they are an Ancient…that much is certain."

"Their location…" Myrah repeated. "So…where are they?"

Hershel met her eye, the glow brightening in his gaze as he answered.

"Dragon Territory."


Tolan gave the blade one last polishing wipe. He could see his reflection in its gleaming surface, a pattern swirling subtly beneath the shine. His thumb rubbed the hidden insignia right at the base of the blade next to the hilt.

It wasn't the best blade he had ever made; he had gotten sloppy over the years. But it was still better than most daggers you could find in the markets these days.

He looked over to see if Pippa was eagerly waiting to see the finished product, but she was snoozing on the work-table. He shook his head; Tolan didn't understand how the child who found rocks and bugs so interesting could fall asleep watching something that had always filled him with fascination. Weapon making was all about taking a lump of something useless and stubborn and molding into something worth carrying with you at all times.

"You finish it, then?"

Tolan turned at the gruff voice to see the owner of the forge studying him grimly. Tolan nodded and brought the dagger over. The man picked it up, but he didn't seem impressed.

"This little thing? That's what you spent two days working on?"

Tolan stiffened, but the older man just sneered.

"We can make several weapons in that time. And you spent it all on this."

Tolan narrowed his eyes, irritated by this man's obvious disdain. "It takes a little extra time," he agreed, his voice soft. "But you can sell a dagger of this quality for twice or three times what you could get for the average one…considering that the buyer has an eye for quality weapons."

Tolan took the dagger back with the last sentence, and the man's scowl lessened slightly.

"Twice as much?"

Tolan gave the blade another polishing wipe. "It'll stay this way for years…remains sharp for months. And…" He threw it deftly, and the man flinched as it whizzed past him and buried itself into the middle of a knot of wood on the post by the door. "…It's perfectly balanced for throwing," Tolan finished, not quite able to keep the smugness out of his voice.

"Ancients," the man cursed, his glower back in full force. "You trying to kill me?"

"No," Tolan responded evenly. He walked over and retrieved his dagger from the wall, looking it over before wrapping it in a leather cloth. He'd need to make a sheath for it later. Perhaps that was something Fluff could help out with.

The man still looked angry, and the former fortress guard leaned up against the post of the doorway.

"You don't have to take my word for it. I'll bring it to the Eastern Markets when you go tomorrow and you'll see then. If you don't think the extra time is worth it, then I'll look for someplace else to make my weapons. Someone in this province will recognize quality, I'm sure."

The forge owner was hesitating, but he finally sighed heavily."I can't run the forge, not with my back injury. That's why I agreed to hire ya in the first place. Your little trinket there best be worth as much as you say it is, or I'll be looking for a more profitable worker."

Tolan wished he could show him just how profitable he could be, but he kept his temper. Syn had been worried enough at the thought of trying to keep them afloat without Tolan's fortress salary. He knew that right now his wife could use the reassurance that he had a way to bring in a little more money than what she was going to be making as a healer.

"Fair enough," Tolan finally responded, already thinking of the different stalls that would give him the best money for his weapon.

200

"Oni don't dye their hair."

Dani looked surprised as she picked petals off of the daisy she had found lying in the grass. "They don't? Not even for a little spontaneity?"

Amber shook her head and M chuckled a little from where he was sitting next to her.

"They all look the same—black hair, white skin…I honestly don't know how anyone keeps each other apart."

Amber flashed him an annoyed look, but Dani was looking at the youngest Openheimer in surprise.

"Have you seen many Oni, then?"

M. puffed his chest a little, making Amber roll her eyes. "I've been to the First Realm," he pointed out smugly, and Amber elbowed him.

"You're not supposed to keep bringing it up!" she reminded, but Dani was already looking at her pleadingly.

"M's been there? You've never taken me!"

"It was before all this political nonsense," Amber tried, giving M. another you'll-pay-for-this look. "And I only brought him because he threatened to tell his father that I was sneaking out of school!"

"I wouldn't have told him," M. countered, as if that made it forgivable. Dani didn't seem to be listening.

"Can you take me?" she finally asked. "Please? I love cultural stuff! I once spent an entire Saturday in the Serpentine History section of the Ninjago City Museum."

The Xinta realized suddenly how badly she wanted to. The thought of Dani and even M. back in the Oni realm— visiting all her favorite spots, meeting everyone—filled her with excitement. It died off quickly, however.

"There's no way I'd be allowed to take you," she admitted sullenly. "Not with everything that's been going down. As it is, I'm only allowed to visit home because I'm the ambassador, or whatever. I think the government would freak if I took you guys there."

"They wouldn't have to know," M. pointed out conspiratorially, and Amber shook her head.

"They have these weird scanners now…they know when I transport. I have to let them know in advance when I'm going home…"

"So let them know in advance. And then take us with you when you go," M countered.

Amber glanced at Dani, sure her roommate would be on her side. Dani was not as willing to break rules as M. always seemed to be. But the brunette had her hands together in a universal begging gesture.

"Please Amber?"

The Oni squirmed a little under the peer pressure. "I'll ask the council about it," she finally offered, causing both friends to groan. Amber's eyes flashed. "I'm sorry. But after they locked my brother up for a week, I'm not really wanting to get on their bad side!"

Her outburst caused both friends to sober immediately, and Amber felt a little guilty when she saw them make sheepish eye contact.

"You're right, Oni-girl. Not fair of us to pressure you,"

"We can wait," Dani offered. "I mean, we have the whole summer to convince the council. I mean…ask the council."

Amber couldn't help but smile a little, but for some reason Dani's comment made M. look away. Amber could feel uneasiness coming off of him again, and she poked him.

"What is it with you lately?" she demanded. "You're upset about something but won't tell me what!"

Dani looked surprised, and M. reddened.

"Nothing. Just felt bad about my comment, that was all."

Amber wasn't convinced, but M. had picked a long blade of grass and was chewing the end of it lazily, leaning back to stare up at the clouds.

"Dani…you know what Oni do have," he started, changing the topic by going back to a previous one. "Colorful eyes. I don't think I met a single person there who had the same color eyes as someone else. Guess that helps them look a little different from each other."

Dani was immediately pulled back into the conversation, her own brown eyes wide. "Really?"

"Well…apart from Amber and her Mom, I guess. But even then, Amber's are more…" he looked over, as if scrutinizing her eye color. It made Amber turn red for some reason; she didn't like being scrutinized. "Golden, I guess. Like a golden-orange, while her Mom's are kinda darker orange."

"The word is amber," the Oni pointed out dryly. "My eyes are amber…that's how I got my name."

"And your brother and dad have matching black eyes" M. continued smoothly. "But that's not really the same, I guess. They don't have the Oni eyes."

"What other colors are there?" Dani pressed, kicking her legs gently while she rested her head on her arms. "Does anyone have, like, hot-pink eyes?"

Amber thought about the question, her eyes immediately drifting to the hot-pink t-shirt that Dani was sporting.

"Um…not that vibrant," the Oni said. "I've seen lots of shades of red, though. And more purply-pink…but like a dark color. I dunno, it's hard to explain."

"Is there anyone with brown eyes?" Dani asked, gesturing to her own eye color.

"Sure. Tolan and Syn both have brown eyes, and their daughter Pippa. And Hershel too, I guess. Though Theo said his aren't so brown anymore…"

She trailed off as her friends stared at her blankly, and she sighed.

"Friends of ours," she offered finally. Dani nodded with a small smile.

"I bet you have lots of Oni friends, being the Princess and all. Man, that still gets me. You're royalty! Like actual Oni…"

"I guess, but it's not like the title really means anything," Amber cut in, suddenly uncomfortable. It always made her feel weird when people brought up her title. She didn't like being known for something that didn't really feel like a part of her—something she was just born into. She'd much rather be recognized for something she had accomplished herself, like dancing. "Theo's the Heir, not me."

"So you don't really even have a title?"

Now Dani sounded aghast, and Amber frowned.

"I mean I do. And I have to wear a silver band around my wrist and an orange sash to special occasions."

"So you're kind of an heir too, then?" Dani pointed out with a smile, and Amber just huffed.

"Sure, Amber's an heir…" M. cut in, and she turned to glare at him. At this point in their friendship, he should know she didn't really like talking about her title…and the fact that she had no idea how it was going to play into her future. But he just smiled at her as he continued. "She's the heir to her grandpa's legacy…that's why she's a dancer."

Amber blinked in surprise, and Dani sighed dreamily.

"Sometimes your life feels like a fairy-tale, Amber. Oni princess fulfills broken family legacy…"

"It wasn't broken," she countered, fiddling with her dance necklace that she was wearing. "And my life is not a fairy-tale. I mean…I bet people don't have to battle psychopathic horned witch-ghosts in fairy-tales."

Dani just stared at her. "Actually…."

"Don't." Amber was glaring again, and Dani held up her hands in sheepish surrender. The pianist immediately headed back to safer ground.

"So…do you think you could ever dye your hair? Or do you think your parents would freak?"

The Xinta paused, remembering back to the question that had got them going on this tangent in the first place—discussing Reggie Blue's change back from Purple to Blue (after much fan interference.)

"I don't know," she said honestly. "It seems like the kind of thing my dad might care about, but my mom would just think was weird. I'd never hear the end of it from Theo though."

Dani pouted. "So…that's a no on the pink streaks, then?"

"Pink?" M. sounded disgusted, and Dani narrowed her eyes at him.

"Yeah, pink. Gotta problem with that color, Openheimer?"

"I've got nothing against pink," he countered. "Except it wouldn't look good on Amber."

Dani smirked. "Since when were you the expert?" she challenged, and M. glowered back. But the pianist just flipped her brown hair back over one shoulder as she shrugged. "Maybe I should put pink streaks in your hair, Mr. Dancer…they would look good in blonde."

M. just scowled, a defensive hand going up to his sandy locks. Dani laughed before turning back to Amber.

"So how do Oni teenagers rebel against their parents? I can't imagine them going through an angsty stage without being able to die their hair."

"To be fair, the Oni seem to be in a perpetually angsty stage," M. offered dryly, earning a punch from Amber.

"Do they get tattoos? Could you get a tattoo? Or would your parents freak?"

"Dani, where are these questions coming from?" Amber asked, shaking her head. Dani blushed a little.

"Well…let's just say that Ninjagoan parents are very orthodox…annoyingly so. You put purple streaks in your hair, or talk about getting a teeny, tiny Cray-Z's tattoo on your shoulder and suddenly you're going through some dark phase."

M. laughed, but Amber was just confused. She didn't really get how tattoos could be a sign of any kind of phase, and Dani noticed her expression.

"So, you're against the tattoo idea too?"

The oni just shrugged.

"Back home, lots of people have tattoos. It's not really a rebellious thing…but all the tattoos have special meaning. Healers get them mainly—there are tattoos that show their healing line, and they get one band when they're an apprentice, and two more when they become a Master."

Dani's eyes widened, and Amber fiddled with her necklace again.

"And binding marks are usually tattoos too. Unless you get bound by a Healer who has the special relic band that can brand it on…."

"Wait, what? What are binding marks?"

Dani was kicking her feet more excitedly now, and Amber glanced up with a little smile.

"I guess in Ninjago you call it marriage, but at home we call it getting bound. You can tell bound couples because they have a braided pattern around their right wrists." She traced a finger around her wrist to demonstrate. "My parents were the first ones to get bound in a really long time. At least, publicly. But in the twenty or so years since then, more couples are doing it. It's not so rare to see binding marks anymore."

"Oni culture is so cool!" Dani pointed out, her eyes wide. "You have to ask the council about taking us, Amber! I want to see all this stuff so bad now!"

Amber smiled; it was a strange feeling, talking about home. She didn't really discuss it much…but now she found herself wracking her brain to think of other things that could blow her friends' minds. It was Dani's next comment that reminded her of something she hadn't even thought about herself for a long time.

"Do lots of Oni have horns, like you? Your mom and brother don't have them."

"No. I'm the only one in the realm who has horns. Oni with horns are called Xinta…and we have more power than the average Oni. I guess there used to be more, back when powers were more common, but we've always been kinda rare. And as far as unique markings go, someone once told me that Xinta would carve their horns when they got old enough."

It had the desired effect. Dani's eyes nearly popped out, and even M. looked intrigued, though he already knew about Xinta.

"Are you going to carve yours?" her pianist friend immediately demanded. "Do you know what you want to put on them? Are you old enough now, or do you still have to wait?"

Amber bit her lip.

"I don't think they're quite done growing," she admitted. "So it'd be a waste to carve them all now, I guess. And I don't really know what I would carve into them. Special things…I guess."

"Like…dance shoes! And those flowers you always wear for performances. And cake…"

"Cake?" M. demanded, shaking his head at the brunette. Dani just shrugged.

"What? Amber always gets the cake in the cafeteria. Every time it's offered…I just assumed it was one of your favorite things!"

Amber couldn't help but smile.

"It's not really my favorite," she admitted. "I can't even finish it half the time. It just reminds me of my Dad—he loves cake. If he had horns, I bet he would cover them with carvings of dessert!"

They all laughed at that, and Amber laughed harder as she pictured Cole with cake-covered horns. Eventually the three friends' giggles died down, and Amber took a deep breath of the fresh spring air as they rolled over to watch the clouds pass. The giggles started again, however, when M. managed to spot one that looked just like a giant slice of cake.

201

Imgloss muttered to himself as he drew the bucket out of the well. One hand unconsciously fingered the invisible tether around his middle as he finished. He had tried everything to get it off, but without his powers, the tether was impossibly strong. So here he was; hot, frustrated, and starving. He cursed the pale master once again as he lifted the water bucket.

Suddenly, the tether gave a tug. Imgloss frowned down at it, thinking it was in his mind, but then it began pulling him back towards his prison in full force. He cried out, the bucket of water dropping from his grasp and sloshing over the sand and dirt. He was forced to jog on his short legs to keep up with the tether's invisible retreat. He made it through the door of his tent, panting, and immediately glowered at the figure seated in one of his chairs. Hershel merely smiled at his hateful look.

"Out for a little fresh air?" the pale man asked, his soft tone mocking as he sipped a cup of steaming tea. Imgloss huffed angrily.

"What do you want?" he growled, ignoring Hershel's gesture towards another cup of tea sitting on a nearby table. "Come to finally revoke your ridiculous punishment?"

"Not even close," the pale man countered. "I just figured you'd be getting a little hungry by now."

Imgloss looked over an noticed the basket of food for the first time, sitting on his table. His stomach immediately growled, though he hated it for betraying his desperation.

"And I had a question," the pale master continued.

Imgloss folded his arms angrily.

"The gall," he finally muttered, his tone dark. "To imprison an Ancient and laud over him in this way. You deserve the worst of punishments, boy. If I had the power to send you back to the Island…"

Hershel's expression immediately hardened, and suddenly his eyes were blazing. Imgloss's bitterness mixed with a sudden dread. The tether was tightening around his middle, and the Ancient willed himself to not shake. He wouldn't tremble in front of this…this pretender.

But after a moment the tether loosened once again, though Hershel's eyes continued to blaze. "I would have thought that by now you'd know better than to threaten me, Imgloss." His tone was quiet, and the Ancient swallowed at the menace implied in it. Suddenly desperate to change the topic, Imgloss cleared his throat.

"What kind of question?" he demanded, trying to sound bored and unintimidated. The younger man's smirk made him think he hadn't quite succeeded, however.

"Do you know who the other Ancient is? The one who lives in Dragon territory?"

Hershel's eyes faded back to muted brown as he asked his question, and Imgloss blinked in surprise.

"Another Ancient?" It didn't make a lot of sense, but the pretentious master seemed quite sure of himself as he finished the last of his tea with a single gulp.

"Yes. I already consulted Archtivus, but he was as lost as I was. I wanted to know if you had any additional information for me before I went searching. It won't take me long to find them, but I'd rather know in advance what I'm getting myself into."

"Hmm…not a strategy you use often," Imgloss pointed out bitterly, and Hershel rolled his eyes.

"Do you know of the Ancient, or not?"

The short Oni fell silent as he thought about it. He finally lowered himself into another chair, though he made no move to drink the cup of tea Hershel had left next to it. "I know better than to assume I am the last," Imgloss finally offered. "Over the years Ancients have disappeared, you know. Fewer and fewer coming to the meetings. I've always assumed they moved on to the departed realm, but it's possible that some have sequestered themselves in far corners of the realm."

"Why?"

Imgloss scoffed.

"How should I know? Perhaps some prideful youth tethered them to a tent in the middle of nowhere, and they've been rotting there ever since."

Hershel merely shook his head at the Ancient's bitter words. "Hate me all you want, Imgloss…but you've brought this punishment upon yourself."

The shorter Oni's eyes narrowed murderously. "As did you, with the blindness. I don't remember you being grateful for it, however."

Hershel's hand suddenly clenched in midair, as if he were crushing an invisible item. Next to Imgloss, the teacup shattered. The Ancient jumped a foot in the air, lukewarm tea sloshing over him.

"You need to be careful when I visit," the self-proclaimed master whispered. "Control isn't easy for me."

Imgloss didn't know what to say to that. He was breathing heavily, his heart pounding as he watched the pale healer push himself to his feet.

"So, you know nothing about the other Ancient," he clarified, and Imgloss just glared. He had no intention of helping the young tyrant, and Hershel raised an eyebrow at his silence. "I guess not. Just thought I'd check."

He went to leave, and Imgloss couldn't help but call out after him. "You've been having the dreams, haven't you?" The pale master froze at the door, and the Ancient smiled grimly. "I have as well. The Island is eager to have you back, it seems."

Hershel disappeared through the door in an angry burst, and Imgloss spent the rest of the day tethered to a very short leash. But it had been worth it to see the unease in Hershel's expression.


"This is what an Oni Library looks like? It's downright prehistoric!"

Theo winced as Tobias immediately started pulling scrolls from the newly organized shelves.

"I'm so sorry," Theodynn murmured to the woman standing next to him. Myrah just watched in silent shock as the Ninjagoan began unrolling scrolls at random, squinting at the letters written there.

"It's almost like ninjagoan writing!" he called over, as if he had made a new discovery that Theo would relish in knowing about. As if Theo didn't already know how to read and write in both languages fluently.

"I was able to distract him for a few days, but he's been insisting on meeting the other leaders in the realm and won't wait for the next meeting. I brought him here first because, well, you're probably the least likely to run him through." A sword crashed to the ground and the Heir flinched again.

"He's…not what I expected," Myrah finally said. By now, Retrevan had gone over and helped Tobias fix the display he had somehow knocked to the ground. The Ninjagoan man muttered apologies while keeping a constant stream of commentary going on the various "old-timey" relics positioned around the library.

"We can get him out of the library," Theo offered. "Maybe the stables, or your office…"

"Probably a good idea," Myrah cut in as Tobias began filling his arms with more scrolls. Theo nodded once and headed over quickly.

"Tobias!"

The man looked up and Theo gestured for him to come over. The man immediately obliged, beaming eagerly.

"Yes, Prince Theo? On to our next adventure already?"

Retrevan had come over as well, and Tobias immediately turned to shove his armful of scrolls into the large guard's arms.

"Take care of these, won't you Returnvin?" he said, though it was more of a command than a request. Theo sighed as he saw the large Oni's expression darken. The Ninjago Ambassador had been treating Ret more like a personal servant lately than a bodyguard…and the fact that he couldn't be bothered to pronounce his name correctly didn't help things.

Myrah must have caught sight of the guard's lost expression as he looked down at the items that had been pulled off of a dozen different shelves.

"Just set them on a table; I'll get them back where they go," she offered, and Ret shot her a grateful look before setting them down.

"Leader Myrah, it has been an absolute pleasure to see this library that you've been so dutifully compiling. Prince Theo has told me of your goal for teaching Oni to read, and may I just say, that is such a charitable vision. You have proven that there can be great heart and wisdom in an otherwise brutal society."

Myrah just stared, and Theo realized that Tobias had grabbed her hand and was going for a kiss. In a panic, the Heir ripped the Ambassador backward, forcing the man to drop Myrah's hand.

"Tobias!" he hissed, and Ambassador Bentworth blinked. The Western Leader looked uneasy, and the man finally smiled and gave the woman a wink.

"Apologies…Prince Theo has told me that flirting is not appreciated by Oni women."

Theodynn wanted to crawl under a rock, and of course Tobias had to make it worse. The Ambassador lowered his voice conspiratorially.

"Even if they are a lovely flower such as yourself…"

"Ancients, Tobias!" Theo didn't even bother keeping his voice soft this time. He barely resisted the urge to shake the ambassador as he grabbed his arms. "I've told you so many times…"

"I was merely showing my appreciation!" the man argued, looking baffled at Theo's anger. "The women in this realm are incredibly empowered, and make a great, lasting impact on their communities. It is extremely unexpected in a primitive society. I'm not trying to be disrespectful…"

"Well, try harder!" Theo snapped. By now Retrevan had come over and put a hand on Theo's shoulder, and the Oni Heir finally sighed. He released the ambassador, who still looked surprised more than anything.

"Ret, could you take Tobias down to get our hoofers?"

"What, leaving already?" The ambassador cut in, tugging his mustache. "Have I failed your expectations that much, or are we scheduled somewhere else?"

Theo just shot him an irritated look, which seemed to give the ambassador his answer. Surprisingly, he sagged a little, as if the opinion of a mere teenager had the power to affect a man over twice his age. With nothing else to say for once, the man gave Myrah a final bow and allowed Ret to lead him out of the library. Theo dry-washed his face and turned back to the Western Leader.

"I really am so sorry," he finally said. "I just don't know what to do with him. I just don't understand how Ninjago thought that this guy was qualified…"

"Well…eagerness and confidence can take one far," Myrah cut in dryly, still looking at where the men had disappeared out the door a few minutes earlier. "He just needs a good wake up call, perhaps."

"At this point, the only message that's going to be loud enough to break through all that…Tobiasness…is going to be a knife to the gut. Which, would be a little late to do him much good."

Myrah finally smiled, which put Theo at ease a little. Things had still been a little strained between the two of them, but he was glad to see that she didn't seem angry.

"Don't blame yourself, Theodynn," she assured. "It seems that Ninjago's Government has a sense of humor, at least." She said with another glance of disdain towards the door. "I don't mind that you brought him…but in the future I wouldn't just show up. I wouldn't want him to meet Hershel."

That surprised Theo; Tobias was an idiot, to be sure, but would Hershel really feel jeopardized with someone so obviously out of his mind?

"I won't," Theo promised. "If he survives meeting the rest of the leaders, I can hopefully keep him from crossing your path again." He turned towards the door himself. "I should probably go catch up with them," he decided with a sigh. "Thanks again for being willing to meet him. And…" Here he looked over to give her a smile. "I'm glad to hear that you and Hershel are together again."

She reddened, but he didn't miss the hint of a smile. "Yes."

"How is he doing?" Theo asked. He hadn't seen Hershel since that meeting, and he wondered how he was dealing with Tolan and Syn moving north. Myrah shrugged.

"I think he's doing really well. But he still seems like he's struggling with something internaly…and he still hasn't opened up about the Island. I'm willing to wait…I just wish there was more I could do."

Theo nodded sadly. "Well, knowing you're there for him is going to help a lot. That's what helped me, when I was young…after the whole Alchemist fiasco. Hershel was one of the people that I knew I could always talk to about it." The Heir paused, suddenly lost in thought. "I really should make more of an effort to see how he's doing."

There was suddenly a crashing clanging sound that echoed into the library from a distant hall, and Theo looked up and groaned.

"I got to go," he said, glancing back at Myrah. She seemed to be trying to cover an amused smile.

"Good luck."


Hershel's hands were still shaking as he came out of his transport. Those nightmares weren't real…they weren't from the Island. There was no way that it could reach him. The awful dreams were just representations of his own fears…his own mind obsessing over the stress of his circumstances.

But if that was true, how did Imgloss know?

"Stop it," he hissed at himself, shaking his head to clear it. He had managed to talk with Imgloss without reacting…or at least, reacting as badly as the power wanted to. He had managed to keep it reigned in. The last thing he needed was to fall apart now, on his way to meet this mystery Ancient.

Focusing on the task at hand helped him push his nightmare concerns to the back of his mind. Why would this Ancient life force be veiled? He had transported near it, not wanting to appear right on top of the Ancient in question. Whoever it was, they probably wouldn't appreciate someone just popping right into their tent. Not that Hershel was necessarily worried about becoming fast friends, but if this stranger was the unfriendly sort, it wouldn't necessarily be a great way to introduce himself.

He continued to walk towards where he could sense the Ancient, and he frowned as he began picking up on other glimmers as well. He hesitated, peering into the distance. As far as he could see, there was no life at all for miles. But his power kept poking at him, as if to say that there was something to be seen just ahead…just behind those two tall formations. But if there were even more people besides just the Ancient, why was he having such a hard time picking them out? Perhaps it was a group of animals, rather than Oni? But it felt like Oni, from what he was able to pick up on.

Dust swirled around him, and he peered through the narrow gap between the two tower-like formations. He couldn't see anyone…

A roar split the air, and Hershel immediately froze. A dragon materialized a few yards away, and Hershel's eyes widened in surprise. He knew Dragons could travel between realms, but the beast had just appeared. One moment there was nothing in the sky…and the next there was a large red beast barreling down on him.

Fire exploded from the beast's mouth, and Hershel managed to get a shield up in time to block it. His surprise quickly turned to anger; there was a union. The dragon didn't have any right to attack him…not for just being here.

"Enough!" he yelled, but the beast merely roared again and began launching another attack. Hershel's heart was pounding, but not in fear. He wasn't going to cower like an insect under glass. Not again.

The shield evaporated, and the dragon growled in confusion as his flame cleared to reveal an empty space where Hershel had stood, not noticing that Hershel had re-appeared directly behind him. Without hesitation, the pale master's eyes blazed as he summoned aural chains and shot them towards the hot-tempered beast. The dragon roared angrily as the chains wrapped around its limbs and neck, Hershel forced his arms downward, and the chains ripped the writhing dragon down to the earth. It made a horrible sound as it hit the dirt and sand hard, spewing flames and ash as it bellowed in pain and anger.

Hershel's eyes narrowed as he tried to think of what to do next, but then he felt a presence behind him. He whirled, evaporating an arrow to dust before it managed to hit him. Without giving his mind time to catch up, he sent a blast of his own towards the person he could sense behind a small formation. There was a scream as the formation exploded. Who…

Hershel yelled out in pain as something buried itself into his shoulder, and he transported. In a flash of light he was gone…and in another flash he had appeared behind the one who had fired the cross-bow bolt. The young man was staring at where Hershel had been, looking shocked. The shock turned to fear as aura ensnared him quickly, and Hershel whipped the Oni around so that he could get some answers.

"Wha…" the man gasped, his eyes wide and full of fear. He was probably only in his second decade, Hershel mused. The pale man grimaced as he yanked the bolt from his shoulder, the agony filling his mind until he managed to bathe the area in healing aura. He relaxed as the wound healed, though his ivory power still burned with anger in his gaze.

An angry yell pulled his attention away from the ensnared man, however. Hershel glanced up to see that someone was running towards him from the direction of the destroyed formation. This time it was a young woman, a bow flung over her back as she charged with a sharp spear.

"Blist, stay back!" the young man warned, but the young woman seemed oblivious as she continued to run full tilt. Hershel scoffed softly and the attacker soon found herself suspended in the air by a wave of blinding aura. She cursed and thrashed.

Hershel had assumed that he had taken care of the main threats, now that the two archers and one fuming dragon had been incapacitated. But then he could sense more life forces streaming in, turning from hazy glimmers into tangible beings. He looked around to see that more Oni and even another few dragons were encircling him, all seemingly ready for war. He felt his inner power rush through him. If it was a war they wanted…

His being filled with light and he was barely aware of his feet leaving the dusty ground. Aura wind whipped around him, his hair thrashing against the string tying it back, his hands swirling with power as he prepared to engaged the army that had appeared out of nowhere.

"Enough!"

The call rang out—echoing across the desert area. Hershel barely even heard it, the rushing of power cutting off most of his senses. However, suddenly his aura was aware of another figure making its way across the barren land, and all at once Hershel knew that she was the Ancient he had been looking for. He didn't stand down, but the Oni and Dragons around him did. It gave him enough reason to pause; luckily, it seemed the power inside was as intrigued by the development as he was, so it ceased demanding death for his attackers.

Hershel felt his feet touch back down to the earth, though his hands and eyes continued to be filled with light.

"Who are you?" he finally called. The woman's expression tightened. Hershel took in the Ancient's appearance while he waited for her to respond. She was old—as old as Phos had looked. Her hair was steel grey, plaited into several thick braids that hung down to her waist. But the most interesting thing about her were the two gnarled horns that curled from her head in a way that he had never seen. The woman was a Xinta.

"As the trespasser to these lands, that question falls to you," the woman responded coldly. "How dare you invade our territory…how dare you attack us."

Hershel scoffed, his fists clenching. "The dragon and the youths attacked me first," he responded coolly. "Under your order, I presume?"

The woman was studying him closely, as if she didn't even know what to think about him. No doubt she had never really come across someone like him, Hershel mused bitterly. Ancient Xinta or not.

"Release them," she finally ordered. "And tell me what your business is, or I will be forced to deal with you myself."

He struggled with himself for a few moments. There was no point in keeping the captives now; the Ancient had revealed herself and he now had the chance to speak with her. But the fact that she threatened him made the power inside angry, and it pressured him into teaching her a lesson. "Why should I trust you?"

The girl hanging upside down squirmed in her confinement, speaking out again. "Iona! Do something!"

The Ancient's attack came quickly, but Hershel had been prepared for it. The purple blast was soon consumed by pearly light, and unease flickered across the woman's expression. Hershel met her gaze.

"You may try to deal with me yourself," he countered. "But I would not advise it."

The Ancient—Iona—took a few moments to process that. "What do you want?" she finally asked carefully. The power was appeased by her meeker tone, and Hershel sagged in relief as it finally subsided. He sighed as the light left his eyes.

"I came seeking you," he admitted, and the older woman's expression darkened.

"What do you mean?"

"I could sense another Ancient in the realm, and I needed to be sure you weren't a threat…"

Now he could tell that the Xinta was baffled. "Sensed?" she demanded. "Sensed how?"

Hershel moved his hands, and the power binding the two Oni and the dragon evaporated. The woman yelled out as she hit the dirt, and the young man immediately ran over to her. The Dragon roared in anger, and looked as if he wanted to toast the pale figure. However, Iona held a hand up.

"Hold your fire, Brightdawn," she chided, and the Dragon stood down, though its gaze was still murderous. Hershel was feeling weary all of a sudden, but he did his best to stand tall and not show it.

"Who are you?" Iona demanded again, and the pale healer tried to think how best to introduce himself.

"I am Hershel."

The woman just stared. "The poet?" she asked in patronizing disbelief. Hershel's expression was unamused.

"The protector of the realm," he clarified softly.

"I see," the woman answered evenly, though he could sense her confusion under the layers of confidence she was trying to exude. "And how exactly did you find us?"

Hershel took time to actually look around at those who had gathered. There weren't as many as he had thought, he realized suddenly. There were only a dozen Oni at most, and three dragons. And he realized in surprise that rather than the characteristic black hair of the Oni, the people glowering at him had hair that seemed to gleam a deep brown in the sunshine.

"Who is it that I found?" he finally asked, turning back to the elderly Xinta. Iona raised an eyebrow, her head held high.

"The Order of Echo and Antirock."

20