Half-Dragon
Chapter 2: "There is magic in this world!"
Silvanoshei, Speaker of the Stars, King of Silvanesti, looked at his companions and sighed. Before the War of the Lance, no Silvanesti king would dream of going on a quest with a Qualinesti and especially a Kaganesti. But the War of the Lance had been over for more half a century. And the War of Souls had ended barely a year before.
"I've told you before, Gilthas, we have to find the one who has lost faith in his infinite desire!" Keaira said, getting slightly exasperated.
"Physically impossible. If it is a person's infinite desire, why would they lose faith?" Gilthas said, equally annoyed.
"I can think of many," Silvan said dryly.
"And the one I speak of approaches us now," Keaira said quietly, a slight smile playing on her lips.
The three elven rulers had stopped. Gilthas and Silvanoshei were off, talking. The faithless one that Keaira had been seeking—Palin Majere—was off speaking with her.
"I wonder what they're talking about," Gilthas remarked.
"So do I," Silvan said, laughing slightly. "If there's one thing I've learned so far on this journey, it's that our cousin is not one to be trifled with. She means business."
"She is a worthy leader," Gilthas agreed.
Palin and Keaira were discussing magic. That is what Palin's infinite desire was.
"There is no magic in this world!" Palin said in disgust.
"There isn't?" Keaira said, looking faintly surprised.
"There isn't! There is no more magic! The gods are gone, taking with them the magic, and the earth magic is failing and…"
"There is magic, Palin!" Keaira said.
"No, there isn't. You don't understand! You didn't experience the ecstasy that all the mages felt when drawing on the magic in the Fourth Age. You don't feel the pain, the agony, every time you touch a powerful element from the Fourth Age! You don't…"
"You're right. I probably don't. But I do know something."
"And what is that?" Palin asked bitterly.
"I know that there is magic in this world. You just aren't looking in the right place."
"And where might that right place be?" Palin asked sarcastically.
"You are right. There is no magic in the moon. There is a very limited supply of magic here," she gestured to the ground. "The magic is in here." She placed her hand over his heart. "That is where the magic still lives."
"Are you stark raving mad? What magic can there be?"
"You, and the other mages of the Fourth Age, have always looked outside for your magic. Do you not know that the gods picked the mages because of certain qualities inside?"
"What?"
"Now it is you who do not understand. The gods—Solinari, Lunitari, and Nuitari—chose their followers because of what was inside. True, you drew your power from their power. True, now you draw your power from the earth. But now your only power is that which is inside. You cannot look outside anymore. I may not have been a mage, but I lived during the end of the Chaos War. I was there when the gods left. I know what it is to live and lose. Your solace, your ecstasy, and now your agony, came from your magic. Mine came from my people—which are dying out as slowly and surely as the external magic. Perhaps you may never have the power, the dreams, the ambition you might have had during the Fourth Age, but you do have the magic. The magic that is inside."
They relapsed into silence for a while. Then something hit him.
"You were alive at the end of the Chaos War? And old enough to appreciate the losses we suffered?"
"Yes. I was born shortly after the Battle of Neraka during the War of the Lance. Why?"
"But—but how can you—be so—so young? Even for elves your age, you look—and act—young."
"I have always aged even slower then my people. I don't know why."
"I have another question for you."
"Yes?"
"Why did you seek me out? It couldn't have been to give me hope with this…magic…you speak of. Why?"
"Because you are the one who lost faith in his infinite dream."
"Why did you need someone like that? And why me, specifically? I know of many people who have lost faith in their infinite dream. Why me?"
"Because I thought you would be able to help me."
"With what?"
"Seek out your cousins, daughter," Keaira whispered. "Seek out your cousins and sprout silver wings."
"What??"
"Those were my father's last words. I thought you would be able to interpret them better than I."
"Oh."
"I did the first part. I sought out my cousins," Keaira gestured to Gilthas and Silvan. "But I have no idea what the second half means. Sprout silver wings? How?"
"I'm not sure….I don't know what it means. Perhaps…no, that's impossible."
"What?"
"Your father was an elf, right?"
"That is correct."
"Well, I thought that maybe…"
"Maybe what?"
"Maybe…your mother…no, it's a ridiculous idea."
"Tell me," Keaira demanded, her eyes flashing dangerously.
"Maybe your mother was a dragon. A silver dragon."
Chapter 2: "There is magic in this world!"
Silvanoshei, Speaker of the Stars, King of Silvanesti, looked at his companions and sighed. Before the War of the Lance, no Silvanesti king would dream of going on a quest with a Qualinesti and especially a Kaganesti. But the War of the Lance had been over for more half a century. And the War of Souls had ended barely a year before.
"I've told you before, Gilthas, we have to find the one who has lost faith in his infinite desire!" Keaira said, getting slightly exasperated.
"Physically impossible. If it is a person's infinite desire, why would they lose faith?" Gilthas said, equally annoyed.
"I can think of many," Silvan said dryly.
"And the one I speak of approaches us now," Keaira said quietly, a slight smile playing on her lips.
The three elven rulers had stopped. Gilthas and Silvanoshei were off, talking. The faithless one that Keaira had been seeking—Palin Majere—was off speaking with her.
"I wonder what they're talking about," Gilthas remarked.
"So do I," Silvan said, laughing slightly. "If there's one thing I've learned so far on this journey, it's that our cousin is not one to be trifled with. She means business."
"She is a worthy leader," Gilthas agreed.
Palin and Keaira were discussing magic. That is what Palin's infinite desire was.
"There is no magic in this world!" Palin said in disgust.
"There isn't?" Keaira said, looking faintly surprised.
"There isn't! There is no more magic! The gods are gone, taking with them the magic, and the earth magic is failing and…"
"There is magic, Palin!" Keaira said.
"No, there isn't. You don't understand! You didn't experience the ecstasy that all the mages felt when drawing on the magic in the Fourth Age. You don't feel the pain, the agony, every time you touch a powerful element from the Fourth Age! You don't…"
"You're right. I probably don't. But I do know something."
"And what is that?" Palin asked bitterly.
"I know that there is magic in this world. You just aren't looking in the right place."
"And where might that right place be?" Palin asked sarcastically.
"You are right. There is no magic in the moon. There is a very limited supply of magic here," she gestured to the ground. "The magic is in here." She placed her hand over his heart. "That is where the magic still lives."
"Are you stark raving mad? What magic can there be?"
"You, and the other mages of the Fourth Age, have always looked outside for your magic. Do you not know that the gods picked the mages because of certain qualities inside?"
"What?"
"Now it is you who do not understand. The gods—Solinari, Lunitari, and Nuitari—chose their followers because of what was inside. True, you drew your power from their power. True, now you draw your power from the earth. But now your only power is that which is inside. You cannot look outside anymore. I may not have been a mage, but I lived during the end of the Chaos War. I was there when the gods left. I know what it is to live and lose. Your solace, your ecstasy, and now your agony, came from your magic. Mine came from my people—which are dying out as slowly and surely as the external magic. Perhaps you may never have the power, the dreams, the ambition you might have had during the Fourth Age, but you do have the magic. The magic that is inside."
They relapsed into silence for a while. Then something hit him.
"You were alive at the end of the Chaos War? And old enough to appreciate the losses we suffered?"
"Yes. I was born shortly after the Battle of Neraka during the War of the Lance. Why?"
"But—but how can you—be so—so young? Even for elves your age, you look—and act—young."
"I have always aged even slower then my people. I don't know why."
"I have another question for you."
"Yes?"
"Why did you seek me out? It couldn't have been to give me hope with this…magic…you speak of. Why?"
"Because you are the one who lost faith in his infinite dream."
"Why did you need someone like that? And why me, specifically? I know of many people who have lost faith in their infinite dream. Why me?"
"Because I thought you would be able to help me."
"With what?"
"Seek out your cousins, daughter," Keaira whispered. "Seek out your cousins and sprout silver wings."
"What??"
"Those were my father's last words. I thought you would be able to interpret them better than I."
"Oh."
"I did the first part. I sought out my cousins," Keaira gestured to Gilthas and Silvan. "But I have no idea what the second half means. Sprout silver wings? How?"
"I'm not sure….I don't know what it means. Perhaps…no, that's impossible."
"What?"
"Your father was an elf, right?"
"That is correct."
"Well, I thought that maybe…"
"Maybe what?"
"Maybe…your mother…no, it's a ridiculous idea."
"Tell me," Keaira demanded, her eyes flashing dangerously.
"Maybe your mother was a dragon. A silver dragon."