Bright, early morning sunlight glistened majestically off the surface of Ladylake. The currents twisted and churned beneath the surface of the water. Birds chirped in the nearby bushes, unafraid of the passing caravans traveling over the long bridge to the city. Caravan crews shouted to each other in greeting, their dogs running between the crowds excitedly.

On the meadow side of the bridge stood a lone figure. He was dressed in deep blues and had long, white hair with turquoise tips tied up in a high ponytail. A long wooden staff was held in his off hand, ornamented with tethers of pearls and seashells. He had paused staring dubiously at the large expanse of lake water, amethyst eyes reflecting uncertainty. The man was obviously a seraphim, and had captured the attention of two human siblings riding by in an uncovered cart. They waved excitedly and he smiled back at them, only momentarily distracted from his musings.

The sight of Ladylake unnerved him. Mikleo was not accustomed to being afraid of water. After all, he was a water seraph. He had spent his whole life, nearly 717 years, practicing and perfecting his water artes. Not only could he freely manipulate any water in his presence, but he could summon water at will. He had control of devastating tidal waves that could vanquish his enemies and was adept at the gentle artes of healing. Those who knew of his skills called him "High Master of Water," for there were none who equaled him in ability. Mikleo had raised his elemental affinity to coveted levels of godhood, attaining what seraphim called "perfect attunement" to his element. But the power had come at a price.

Stealing his resolve, Mikleo took his first step across the bridge. So long as the water didn't touch him, he would be safe. He had business in Ladylake with an old friend, business he was not going to avoid due to a little discomfort. Striding across the bridge with confidence, the only sign of his anxiety was the whitening of his knuckles on the hand that held his staff. How long had it been since he had seen Lailah? He reflected back on three summers ago and the smiling faces of his friends as he left on his pilgrimage to finally attain perfect attunement. They had supported him as he left, and he promised to return to them with new powers and epic stories.

Most seraphim, Mikleo's friends included, gained power through the usage of oaths. By prohibiting certain activities, you could hone your skills in one aspect to greater heights. Yet, that inherently inhibited growth in the prohibited areas. The sacrifices were usually small with astounding benefits. However, you could never reach perfect attunement to your element if you took an oath. To attain perfect attunement you had to master all and every aspect that your element could offer. Most seraphim thought it was too arduous, and perhaps that was why Mikleo was the only one he knew to attempt perfect attunement. But Mikleo didn't have much else to do anyways, except write his book.

Mikleo grimaced at the thought of his unfinished book as he crossed the threshold of the city. The din of the crowd was to be expected, people chatting amicably in the streets, gossiping about the goings on in Hyland. No matter how much the buildings changed, old stone architecture replaced with towering, cement structures, the atmosphere of Ladylake would always remain the same. Mikleo wandered up the sloping streets, dodging a group of rambunctious kids on peddle bikes, lost in nostalgia. He passed by where the great water wheel had once hung over the irrigation river, now replaced by a bustling marketplace. The aqueducts that once ran through the center of the city had been replaced by an intricate system of pipes that were buried beneath the streets and in the walls of the buildings. Mikleo was, for the first time, grateful for the change. The water was tucked away in a place it could not reach him.

Mikleo continued up the twisting streets until he came upon his destination. The sanctuary looked ancient next to the newer architecture of the city. He remembered the protests that had broken out when the counselors had suggested rebuilding the sanctuary. Mikleo had thought Lailah had been a part of the movement, with how attached she was to the old building. However he had never been able to confirm his suspicions. The protesters had won in the end, and the old building remained. It was not the same old building that he had seen the first time he had entered Ladylake, that had been torn down centuries ago, but it was still clearly from an older era.

The doors were propped open, letting in the warm breeze and the gazes of passers by. Members of the sanctuary had become very open since the end of the Age of Chaos. Anyone was allowed to come, pray and meet the now visible seraphim, and wern't heckled for donations to the church. Ironically, their monetary resources had increased tenfold with the beginning of the Age of Coexistence, more commonly called the Renaissance of Seraphic Technology.

Mikleo strode between the pews, passing a mourning couple whose graying heads were bowed in prayer for lost loved ones. He had to suppress the urge to approach them. Yes, tears had water in them, and yes, he could use the power in that water, but he wasn't going to. Nagging thoughts pestered him all the way to the altar, where a very familiar seraphim was addressing one of the priests. He cleared his throat.

The seraphim supn around, red and white dress twirling in the air along with her floor length, silver hair. She had stopped mid sentence, but didn't seem to care once she caught sight of who was before her.

"Mikleo!" she exclaimed, hiding her delighted smile behind her draping sleeves. Mikleo could tell she was restraining the urge to leap forward and hug him tightly. Thankfully, she was successful.

"Hello Lailah. Did you get my letter?"

"Yes, I did. But I must admit I didn't expect to see you so soon. What a wonderful surprise."

"Um, excuse me," the priest said shyly. It was not his place to interrupt The Lady of The Lake, but he had been in the middle of a conversation. "Is this someone you know, Lady Lailah?"

"Why yes, this is an old Sub Lord of mine," she said, subtly telling the priest that Mikleo outranked him. Seraphim were to be respected, but humans seemed to hold greater revere for those who were either Lords of the Land or Prime Lords to a Shepard. Naturally, being a Sub Lord would establish his place in the hierarchy on par with the highest ranking seraphim. Being in the sanctuary that worshiped Lailah, he was practically a deity.

The priest stuttered for a moment before falling silent as Lailah's attention returned to her dear friend.

"You wanted to speak about something. Does it have to do with your pilgrimage?" Lailah asked excitedly.

"Yes. Is there somewhere we could go that's a bit… more… private?" Mikleo requested, blushing slightly at all the attention he was receiving. Despite the authority his powers had granted him, Mikleo had never gained the taste for the limelight. He much prefers intimate connection with close friends to that of the hero worship most humans threw his way.

"Certainly." Lailah said, taking her leave of the sanctuary's main floor.

Ever since humanity had been granted the gift of resonance, and consequently the ability to perceive seraphim, this sanctuary had set aside a room especially for Lailah. It had been quaint, if a little small in its first rendition, but grew with extravagance each time the sanctuary had been renovated or rebuilt. Now Lailah practically had a small home to herself nestled in one wing if the sanctuary. There was a small common space connected to a kitchenette, bathing room and bedroom. The kitchenette had been a personal request of Laila equipped with stacked ovens and sturdy stove top.

"Make yourself comfortable," Lailah offered, gesturing to one of the soft couches.

Mikleo remained standing, his nerves keeping him from sitting comfortably. He shifted uncomfortably in the atmosphere that always seemed far too warm in Lailah's room. Running a sweaty hand over his hair, lifting his bangs away from his circlet to cool his forehead. Lailah, playing conscientious host, poured Mikleo a glass of water from the pitcher on the coffee table.

"Here," she said, handing him the glass.

Mikleo took it without looking, bringing the rim of the glass to his lips. When his mind registered what was happening, he jumped back, dropping the glass to the floor. The contents spilled out and soaked the cuff of Mikleo's trousers, seeping in close to his skin. His back pressed to the wall, power pulsating against his skin in time with the rapid beating of his heart. Mikleo's ankle felt numb, and he was becoming dizzy. The power sought out Mikleo, the energy in the water calling to him, begging him to feed mana into the puddle at his feet and show the world it's devastating true potential.

Lailah was shouting his name, but he couldn't hear her over the sound of his own breath in his ears, coming out in short pants. One hand clutched to Mikleo's collar, trying in vain to ground him. He could feel his control slipping, the water in the pitcher beginning to spin violently in response to his mana. It spun faster and faster until the ceramic vessel couldn't contain it anymore, and the pitcher shattered, spraying water all over the table. Lailah yelped, grabbing up her cards and casting drying flames at her feet.

As the water evaporated slowly Mikleo came back to himself. His breathing evened out bit by bit, and he released his hold on his shirt. Instead of dizzy he felt shaky, hands trembling lightly as he calmed himself down. Lailah was staring at him with concern, eyes fixated to his.

"Mikleo, your hands… Your eyes…" she breathed, her usual levity had evaporated with the water, leaving only heartfelt worry.

"My eyes?" he asked, glancing down at his trembling fingers.

To his surprise, the tips of his fingers had been replaced by shrinking talons. They were dark black and jagged, even as they retreated and became regular skin once more. Without thinking he rushed into the bathing room. Standing in front of the mirror he watched in horror as his eyes shifted in shape. His irises went from long, black slits slowly back to their natural, if dilated, circle. Lailah appeared in the mirror next to him, a worry line creased between her brows and lips pressed into a thin line. His trembling had increased to full blown shaking.

"How about you come sit down Mikleo," she offered softly.

"Yeah," he agreed, not trusting his legs to keep him standing much longer.

Mikleo allowed himself to be guided to a couch, sinking into the plush cushions with relief, Lailah a constant presence at his elbow.

"Tell me what happened Mikleo," Lailah prompted, running a soothing hand up and down his back.

Mikleo stared at his hands, now looking completely normal, without really seeing them. "I was on my pilgrimage, far north of Eysia by the frozen ocean. I was practicing my artes, testing the limits of what I could harness." A smile eased its way onto Mikleo's face. "It was amazing Lailah. I could feel the whole ocean at my command. Entire glaciers were nothing more than trivial ice cubes floating in a bowl of water. Every drop of water, every snowflake was mine to command, and then… something snapped."

A shadow fell over Mikleo's face. "Instead of sending energy out and controlling the power with my mana, energy was rushing into me. I couldn't stop it, I couldn't control it. It filled me up with power, too much power. It hurt, but it wasn't like any pain I've felt before. I fought the power, lashed out at my surroundings, and that's when I passed out. When I woke up, everything around me was destroyed. All the snow and ice had been blasted away from me, leaving me lying on bare stone. The icebergs had shattered and all the ocean I could see had frozen solid. I wasn't even sure I had woken up in the same place I passed out. After that I left as fast as I could, and came to see you. Lailah, what's happening to me?"

There was silence between the two, amethyst eyes begging green for help. When Lailah glanced away, Mikleo began to panic.

"Lailah, you have to help me-"

"Mikleo…"

"You're the wisest seraphim I know, I couldn't go to any of the others-"

"Mikleo-"

"Don't give me some bullshit about your oath keeping you from telling me. This has nothing to do with the Shepard-"

"MIKLEO!" Lailah shouted, grabbing his hand and silencing the distraught seraph. "If you stop talking for just a second and here what I have to say, it may help you."

She paused for a moment, waiting to see if her friend was listening. Mikleo kept his lips sealed, even if they trembled with unshed tears.

"I have lived a long time.I have met only a few seraphim who sought out perfect attunement with their element, and I never saw any of them after they had reached their goal."

Mikleo felt a sinking sensation in the pit of his stomach.

"But, I have seen something like this before Mikleo. I just don't think you will like hearing it."

"Please," Mikleo whispered, not trusting his voice to remain steady, "just tell me Lailah."

The fire seraph sighed, glancing away again. This time Mikleo waited, and when she looked back he saw her heart break. "It looked like you were becoming a dragon."

Silence permeated the room. Mikleo was stunned. There was no way he was becoming a dragon. He looked at Lailah like she had grown a second head. This was absolutely crazy. Mikleo had been very careful around malevolence ever since he severed his pact with Lailah. There wasn't a chance that he could be so badly corrupted. It was impossible. He would have noticed.

"But… dragons are the harbingers of chaos…" he said disbelievingly.

"I know."

"They are seraphim that have been corrupted by malevolence for years, or are flooded with immense quantities of malevolence…"

"I know."

"The only way to deal with a dragon is to kill it…" at this point Mikleo was just clinging to the scraps of information he knew about dragons, things he hadn't thought about in centuries.

"I know," Lailah said, choking back a sob. She wrapped her arms around Mikleo and pulled him close.

Mikleo accepted the embrace, taking comfort in the arms of his friend. He let his worries subsided for a moment while he focused on the warmth of the body next to him. Mikleo must be really far gone if he was huddling into Lailah like a frightened child hiding in his mother's arms. Yet, he couldn't quite bring himself to pull away.

"I don't sense any malevolence from you," Lailah whispered in his ear.

Confusion creased Mikleo's brow. "Then how can I be a dragon?" he whispered back, pulling away so he could watch his friend's expression.

She bit her lip, "I'm not sure. And for that I'm sorry."

Mikleo rubbed his eyes and breathed out a heavy sigh. He felt so lost and helpless.

"Maybe we don't know everything about dragons," Lailah offered optimistically. "Maybe you should seek the dragonlords."

"The dragonlords," Mikleo scoffed. "I hardly think a cult of lunatics who live at the edge of the world would know anything about a seraphim becoming a dragon without malevolence."

"Maybe. Or, maybe they know more than we give them credit for. They have worshiped dragons for eons. And it does seem every time there are rumors of a dragon in Glenwood a dragonlord shows up to put things to rest."

What Lailah said was true. Although it was historically the Shepherd's duty to kill dragons, over the past 500 years or so dragonlords had been popping up to take care of things. They were ostracized. There wasn't an inn or sanctuary that would put a dragonlord up for the night. Yet, they never seemed to mind. They would slip in quietly, quell the dragon, and just as quietly disappear again. Dragonlords were a mystery to humans and seraphim alike. The only thing anyone seemed to know about them was that they worshiped dragons, and that made them insane.

Mikleo sighed and rubbed his eyes again. They felt strangely sore, like they had been pressing against his skull in a way they didn't usually. "I guess it's as good a place to start as any," he conceded.

"Don't worry Mikleo. I'm sure we will find out what is happening to you," Lailah said comfortingly. "Now, would you like something to drink?"

Mikleo thought for a moment. "Some milk." Milk was safe. There wasn't any water in milk.