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  "Why are you carrying the battle standard?" the legionary asked Dion.

  "Echa," Kerkio replied instead of Dion. He knew that was all he had to say and that kept the young legionary silent for a while.

  "Bad?" the legionary asked Kerkio.

  "Any more water in your canteen?" asked Kerkio in return, but then quickly answered the legionary's last question. "Yes. It's bad."

  "We've have seen a lot Tialoch these past two days, but - is that a dragon?" the legionary asked. He turned in his saddle to once more look at the creature walking behind the carriage, and at the same time passed a small pouch of red woven fabric that contained his metal canteen to Kerkio. Some water still sloshed inside it when Kerkio shook it before unscrewing its lid.

  "Where did you get a dragon?"

  "We found it in a village," answered Kerkio.

  The legionary nodded and accepted the answer but quickly asked two more.

  "Is it dangerous? Will it bite if I touch it?"

  "He," Dion corrected the legionary.

  "Most probably," Kerkio answered and the legionary noticeably gave up on the idea of trying to touch the dragon. He glanced once more towards the animal but then turned forward and continued leading them deeper into the city.

  The doors and windows on almost all the houses pressing and overarching the road were closed and locked shut, save for the few that served as shelter for legionaries on duty guarding the South gate. This entire quarter of the city was quiet, but a hum of distant noise from the west reached their ears.

  "Dion, the last time I saw those hills was before I went to see your family in Echa Rei, and the hills were covered with houses and were green with grass and trees," said Kerkio peeking between houses towards the western quarters of the city. The hills were treeless now. The earth was wounded in many places and battered, covered in a thick gray layer of ash. The remaining houses that were not rubble were part of a new earthen wall that was still being built. The workmen were protected by shields and spears of the King's legionaries who stood guard atop the house-high wall.

  "How bad is it?" This time it was Kerkio who asked the legionary that question.

  "The enemy has taken the Great Oak and we are unable to take it back. They spread too quickly and too deep into the city. We stopped them for a little while when they reached the Tree's market but a second wave pushed us back to that hill you see there. The people are now helping us build walls at various places in the city to help defend the King's half. We are trying to keep them from reaching the Vertical."

  "The Vertical?" asked Dion.

  "That's our name for this last section of the Northern road that we are on right now, between the South and the North gates," Kerkio explained.

  "The last I heard is that Telurion is planning a return to the Great Oak," the legionary continued.

  "When?" asked Kerkio.

  "Probably after we tell him the South gates are safe. Yesterday they escaped through the West gates and came at us through the South gates while we were fighting in the Tree's market."

  "What about the north part of the city? The outside quarters? My parents live there."

  The legionary shook his head. "Untouched. The enemy only managed to escape out the West gate.

  "When was the city attacked?" asked Dion with great interest.

  "Two days ago. The morning was still waking."

  "The same time as the attacks in Echa and Echa Rei," thought Dion.

  "Telurion waits for my report," the red-haired legionary said this as goodbye, took one more look at the dragon and rode off.

  ✽✽✽

  "Step aside," Dion heard Kerkio say to someone, and when he moved to the right to see what was going on in front of the carriage, he saw that they came to a wide, crowded intersection. A large group of people was gathered there, all looking westward. They were not moving to let the carriage pass, not even when Kerkio drove the bird close to an old man standing on the outer side of the crowd. Only when the old man turned his head did Kerkio see that the old man might not have seen the carriage approach or heard his demand.

  "What kind of an ugly horse is this?" asked the old man squinting with one eye, then the other, and finally with both. "At least it's large."

  "That's not a horse, grandfather. It looks like a bird, I think," answered the girl with long and straight black hair who held the old man beneath his arm. She moved him a few steps back to let the carriage from the south pass, and when the others noticed movement they moved as well, even though their eyes were still locked in the west.

  The carriage moved into the intersection, and Dion and Kerkio could see what the people were looking at. Several segments of the King's legion were marching west toward the new earthen wall.

  "This also looks like an ugly horse," said the old man when the carriage passed him by and Dion and the dragon were in front of him.

  "I think that's a dragon," the girl said. She doubted her own words, but her grandfather didn't hear her, so she repeated her words more loudly.

  "A dragon," she said, almost yelled, and people in the crowd took notice and the word spread through them quickly, and they turned to look at the newcomers. A group of boys snuck out of the crowd and took the word in all directions through the city. "Dragon."

  "Lyud," the dragon called Dion quietly when people's attention turned towards them.

  "It hiccupped," said the black-haired girl with a merry smile on her face, and the rest of the people around them had their own things to say. In a moment Dion and the dragon were surrounded by bodies, words and sentences, and Dion quickly stopped caring about what they had to say.

  "Kerkio, let's move a little faster. The dragon is not happy, and neither am I."

  ✽✽✽

  Kerkio stopped the bird and climbed off the carriage when they reached the stone- paved agora located in the center of the city. It was situated to the east of the Vertical and was vast, despite housing many small parks, temples and monuments. It was a hub not only of all the city's roads but a central place for most of the city's daily life as well. Only the Market next to the Great Oak came close to the importance of the agora.

  "Do you know how to reach Valan from here?" asked Kerkio.

  "You are not coming with me?"

  "I thought I was going to, but I did not expect us to find the city in such a state. I must go to the legion's camp in the northern quarters and see what my tasks are."

  Dion lowered his eyes and Kerkio noticed immediately that Dion's mood has soured.

  "Arnos said that we are to go to my parents after you finish your task. I will see you there, agreed?"

  "Agreed, but..."

  "Oh. How to get to the house?"

  Dion nodded.

  "Follow the road north once you pass the North gates. It will lead you to the Pine Crossroads. Four large pine trees grow around it, hence the name. Turn east there and when you reach the houses, ours is the fifth house on the north side of the road. Our gates are to the left of the house. Tell Lanika I'll be there as soon as I can. Today, I hope."

  "Certainly seems less difficult than finding my way to the king inside the city."

  "Don't forget your standard." Kerkio climbed onto the carriage over its large front wheel, threw the standard straight into Dion's hands and then sat behind the reins.

  "Take care," said Kerkio and moved the bird forward. "Go see what the king can do for Echa."

  "Thank you!"

  "Ode lyud?" asked Zmai as he looked at Kerkio and the carriage.

  "Ada, ode Kerkio," Dion answered. "Kerkio went away."

  "Et mi hodat, Zmai. An kral," said Dion to the dragon that it was time they went to see the king.

  They walked hurriedly east and soon found themselves among groups of dirty and tired people being settled in tents set up in various corners of the agora.

  "Where are you from?" Dion asked as they passed by a family of five.

  "Thin Island," replied one of the children.

  "So the Ea
st has fallen as well..." thought Dion, but said nothing.

  That grim thought forced Dion to start running as quickly as he could. They left the agora and continued in the direction of the Eastern gates until they reached the point where the road split in two.

  "North here. Going straight would take us out of the city," remembered Dion. The left turn took them uphill towards the citadel that housed the king's throne room. They climbed many wide stairs cut into the side of the hill and stopped when they reached a small plateau bordered by tall stone columns on both sides. Opposite the steps stood the closed doors of the citadel.

  "I am a messenger," he said to the citadel's guards who stood unmoving in front of him, dressed in brown leather armor and wearing long red capes of the King's legion. Dion pointed with his head towards the battle standard in his right hand.

  "Just you," said of one of the guards.

  "Zmai, ya berzo bit kot kralya. Stai tu?" Dion asked the dragon to stay there. He was worried about leaving him alone, but he tried to hide that in his voice. The dragon looked unhappy even though Dion promised to quickly finish his visit with the king, but he accepted and took a few steps back from the guards.

  Each guard then grabbed one brass knob and stepped aside, pulling the doors of the throne room open - a throne room that really was not one since there was no throne inside. King Valan did not believe the throne was a source of power. More than that, he believed that it would distance him too much from the people so that was the first thing he removed when he came to power. The throne only survived in the name of the room. He had the gold of the deposed king Renk removed and replaced with a plain wooden working table and a chair. The only thing he had requested specially for himself was a bed, but he used it so infrequently that it gradually became a low shelf that housed many small gifts and other trinkets he had received over time.

  More tables had been brought to the throne room through the years and Dion could now count five large tables on his left, placed so that they roughly formed a horseshoe shape that was open towards the fireplace cut in the north wall. The king was bent over the main table that was farthest from the fireplace, busy reading something Dion could not see from where he was standing. He stood quietly in the doorway and waited to be noticed by the king.

  "Carrier of the battle standard!" the guard announced him so loudly that Dion twitched uncomfortably, and then he was pushed into the throne room. The king turned in Dion's direction and the paper that the king was reading from slid from the table and dropped to the floor. The king ignored the paper but removed one small wooden house from a map that covered the entire table and tossed the figure aside onto a small pile of house and horse figurines on the table to his left.

  Dion stepped closer to the tables and saw that the maps of the Alliance were spread over them - maps of Aelan, Irion, Thin Island, and Syevnor.

  The king raised his crown-less head and looked at Dion. He was a tall man in the late years of his life when the color of hair and beard turns into that of mountain peaks eternally covered with snow. His eyes were brown and his nose was thin and large with no visible dots or freckles. His thin lips hid in the shadow of his abundant facial hair. He wore an unremarkable white shirt, much like the one that Dion wore.

  "I do not know you," spoke the king after he took a good look at his guest. Dion came before the king dirty and his shirt was full of holes and blood stains. On top of that, he had a fresh wound on his head that still ached.

  "What happened to you? Introduce yourself and say what you have come here to say."

  "I am Dion," he finally started speaking. "Son of Arnos, the Protector of Echa Rei."

  "Echa Rei," the king repeated the name of Dion's city. It sounded like he was already expecting bad news.

  "What news do you bring from the south?"

  "Echa Rei and all the villages south of it have fallen to the enemy," Dion said and stepped a bit more closer to the table nearest to him. Three wooden houses were still on the map where the three Echas were.

  "The messengers from Echa have failed to reach the king before me," Dion understood when the king removed the house figurine from Echa Rei.

  "They are all dead."

  "The Great Oak?" asked the king.

  "Yes. They came out of the Tree, but they also came from Irion."

  "Are you certain?" asked the king with a rougher voice.

  "I am certain that they came from the lands of Irion, but I am no longer absolutely sure who they are and where they are from. They came to Loi Rei under the banner of Irion, but out of the Tree in Echa Rei came forth flags I have never seen, not even in the books in Echa's library."

  "How does Echa stand? Have you asked for Taren's help?"

  "Yes. All who survived Echa Rei have found refuge there. However, Echa Doros has also fallen and they too have come to Echa."

  The king's arm moved and took the Echa Doros figurine off the map. Echa's figurine was the only one left in the south.

  "I have come to ask for your help in the name of all three Echas. The south legion is lost. All the carrier pigeons have returned to Echa and brought no message with them. We do not know where in Syevnor they are, if they still are there, or what has happened to them."

  The king moaned and shook his head. That news struck him harder than the fall of the cities in the south or the siege of Echa.

  "We have to see to that," said the king quietly, almost to himself, and traced the shoreline around Phares Nova in Syevnor with his right index finger. "I'll send someone to Phares."

  "Is that all?" the king asked and turned his attention to Dion once more.

  "No," came the unexpected answer. "Some sort of witch, a captain maybe of the enemy forces, came from Tialoch to Aquia and Mara with a sizable retinue. They slaughtered the entire village of Aquia and ate almost everyone. They only left the children alive, but the children were meant to be used against you and the kingdom."

  "What do you mean?"

  "She wanted to hang the children before your eyes, to force you to surrender Tialoch."

  The king's eyes now pierced through Dion. He started blinking more rapidly, struggling to process what he had just heard.

  "How did you find out about this horror?" asked the king, rubbing his hands against his shirt, as if trying to clean them from filth.

  "The dragon told me," answered Dion like it was something people would normally say, but the king's face showed that it was most certainly not so.

  "Dragon?"

  "You are probably the last one in this city who hasn't yet heard about him."

  "Where is he?" asked the king in a voice now brimming with youthful inquisitiveness and looked south out of the tall window. He looked as if he expected to see the dragon flying around the citadel.

  "He is here, on the other side of these doors. The guards understandably would not let him enter the throne room with me."

  "Here!" exclaimed the thrilled king and walked briskly towards the fireplace to get out of the horseshoe of tables.

  "I have to warn you in advance that he is not what you are probably expecting. He is nothing like what we make of dragons in our stories here in Aelan," said Dion, and the king slowed down his walk to give Dion more time to explain himself.

  "The dragon is small. He looks young and acts like that. He is wounded, starved and afraid. The witch held him hostage, but I do not know for how long. He was bound and probably frequently physically harmed as part of her divination and conjuring - I have witnessed one such event. I do not know much more about him apart from the fact that he helped us immensely in Aquia and protected the children as long as he had strength left in his body."

  "Guard! Let the messenger's companion pass," the king ordered. The guard that followed Dion into the throne room did as commanded but the dragon did not enter the throne room when called upon.

  "Lyud?"

  Only that short question came into the throne room but it made the king's eyes glisten momentarily.

  "He speaks th
e Old language?" whispered the king.

  "Ada, Zmai. Tu esam. Hodai," Dion answered that he was there and moved back to the door so that the dragon could see him. "I am here. Walk."

  Carefully and slowly the dragon moved to the doors. The guards gripped their swords and spears, fearing for the king, but the king commanded them to keep away from the dragon.

  The king's smile was even larger than his surprise when the dragon entered the throne room.

  "I always believed that men weren't inventive enough to conjure the myth about the dragons out of thin air," said the king. He moved slowly about the room to get a better look at the dragon who was trying to hide his larger body behind Dion's.

  "I also believed that they didn't exist anymore, but had existed at some point in history. Not a single elder I spoke to in my youth ever knew or talked to anyone who had seen a live dragon."

  The king spent a few more moments silently observing the animal, but then he spoke again, and this time he used the Old language.

  "Kak star?" The king asked the dragon his age, and showed to both of his guests that he was a learned man. The dragon looked at the king first and then at Dion so Dion nodded to him to go ahead and answer the king.

  "Edna rok," said the dragon. He lifted a single claw of his right front leg for a moment.

  "One year old. A baby dragon by anyone's measure," said the king. He approached the dragon as carefully as he would a child and placed his hand gently on the dragon's nose. The king's hand smelled of wood and the warm beeswax of burning candles.

  "Sto hoties?" the king asked the dragon, removing his hand and stepping away.

  "I wonder what he's going to say that he wants," thought Dion, himself as interested in the dragon's answer as the king was.

  "Damov," answered the dragon, and Dion felt a sharp pain in his chest. The dragon wanted to go home, and no one knew better than Dion how that felt.