Table of Contents

CHRONICLE OF BOLAS: THE TWINS .................................................................................................... 1

CHRONICLE OF BOLAS: THE FIRST LESSON ....................................................................................... 18
CHRONICLE OF BOLAS: THINGS UNSEEN .......................................................................................... 39
CHRONICLE OF BOLAS: WHISPERS OF TREACHERY ........................................................................... 57
CHRONICLE OF BOLAS: BLOOD AND FIRE ......................................................................................... 81
CHRONICLE OF BOLAS: A FAMILIAR STRANGER .............................................................................. 102
CHRONICLE OF BOLAS: PERSPECTIVES ........................................................................................... 129
CHRONICLE OF BOLAS: THE UNWRITTEN NOW .............................................................................. 143

CHRONICLE OF BOLAS: THE TWINS

Posted in Magic Story on 13 Giugno 2018

By Kate Elliott

"Did you hear that?"

The glissade of ticking and popping sounds had been faint, almost inaudible. If it hadn't been
such a still day, Naiva would have thought it a trick of the breeze caught in the branches of a
nearby stand of stunted juniper trees. Spear in hand, she studied the snow-draped land. A
steep slope above them tilted dizzily toward the monstrous white summit of the mountain
called Eternal Ice. The deep slash of a valley led down to where their large hunting party had
been encamped since the new moon. All around, the high peaks of the Qal Sisma cut into the
sky like so many jagged teeth. Dragons lazily glided in circles on the updrafts above the
peaks.

Dragons and humans weren't the only hunters in the mountains.

She scanned the debris field of rocks in which the juniper grew. Nothing moved that she
could see, but a few more quiet pops and ticks sounded.

"Bai, goblin claws make that noise on rock."

Baishya knelt ten paces away on an exposed outcrop of rock that stuck up above the densely
packed snow field, which they'd walked halfway across. Head bowed, she raised a hand for
silence.

"Bai." Naiva kept her voice low. "We need to keep moving."

"You're too impatient. My vision led me right here, I'm sure of it."

"There's nothing to see."

"Yes, there is. You just can't see it."

"I don't think you can see it either. You just say so to get Grandmother's attention because
you're not as good at hunting as I am."

Baishya looked back over her shoulder with the familiar lift of her chin and roll of eyes.
Everyone in the clan said the two girls looked exactly alike, but Naiva absolutely knew for
certain she personally never had that smug look of complacency on her face, not ever.

"No matter how accurately you throw your spear and how expertly you wield a knife, you're
no use as a hunter if you can't keep your mouth shut. Especially not to complain about me.
You didn't have to come with me."

"Someone has to keep you safe when you hear voices telling you to climb sacred mountains
that are off limits to ordinary people . . ." Naiva broke off.

A low whumph like a huge bear stamping a foot shuddered through the air. Cracks shot
across the hard surface of the snow higher up on the slope.

Baishya pressed her hands to her face as if a bright light was blinding her. "They're here," she
said in a tone of awe, oblivious to the danger.

The snow broke, starting to slide. Naiva plunged forward, dragged Baishya off the outcrop,
and threw them down behind it. They flattened themselves into a slight overhang, backs
pressed against the rock. The booming roar of the avalanche deafened them. Naiva flipped up
her outer mantle of krushok skin, holding it open with her arms as snow cascaded over the
outcrop and roared on down the slope. But it wouldn't be enough. The mountain was named
Eternal Ice because its snowfield was so solid and stable, a holy place where hunters dared
not hunt and only whisperers would walk when they were lured there by the voices of the
ancestors. Yet now all the snow and ice of generations had broken, and it was going to bury
them.

Naiva did not fear death. But she was suddenly furious that Baishya was so determined to
prove herself as a shaman that she had to drag her twin on a reckless quest. So they would die
together as they had been born together, locked in a cold tomb.

Baishya's hands began to glow with a greenish light. The sight so astonished Naiva that she
forgot to be afraid. As the snow poured down, cascading over the top of the overhang, sliding
around the curve of the outcrop, burying them in the ice of the ancestors, her sister began to
mold and shape the crushing snow into a wall in front of them. The snow thundered against
this barrier, bowing it inward. Naiva held her breath, thinking the snow would splinter and
give way.

But the magical wall held.

The noise lessened. The rumbling faded into a pregnant silence. It should have been too dark
to see except Baishya's hands were glowing with the eerie, wispy light.

Rattleclaw Mystic | Art by: Tyler Jacobson

Naiva's voice had frozen in her throat. Her breath blew clouds of mist in front of her eyes,
only it was not her breath.

The wall dissolved into a white haze like the soft fall of a heavy snowstorm. Gauzy figures
walked out of the snowfall. They were mostly human in shape: tall, slender, walking on two
legs but not on the snow, rather on the troubled gusts of air rising from the catastrophic
collapse. One wore a cloth the color of moonlight wrapped around its waist, speckled with
darts of green like glowing eyes. The others wore wispy scarves as delicate as dew-laden
spider webs. Instead of hair and beards, they had filaments growing from their pale flesh.
These delicate string-like tentacles curled and waved in strange patterns.
Baishya touched her own ears as if trying to muffle a howling clamor of multiple people
shouting all at once. Naiva heard nothing, still deafened by the aftermath of the roaring sound
or perhaps because she wasn't worthy; she couldn't hear what the elementals were saying, if
they were saying anything at all. Baishya's eyes rolled up in her head and she slumped
forward in a faint.

They had coaxed them up here to kill and eat them! Naiva grabbed her spear.

Baishya jolted forward and clamped down hard on her sister's arm. "No! Don't be stupid. The
windfolk came to warn us, not to hurt us."

As if her voice was a shattering blow, the elementals vanished into a thick cloud of
snowflakes; or maybe that was just a concealment spell used to hide their retreat.

"You can't just hit first and ask questions later, Nai! You have to listen."

"I didn't hear anything!"

"You never do."

Baishya shook snow off her mantle and eased out from under the overhang. Her gasp of
shock shot fear into Naiva's bones. She pushed out beside her sister. Naiva had always
walked boldly where Baishya crept with hesitation. But even for Naiva this was too much;
she gaped at the destructive path cut by the avalanche. Wide stripes and patches of bare rock
had been exposed on the mountainside. Half the massive snow field had caved away, pouring
into the valley to smother it in vast heaps of snow.

"Grandmother and the camp are down there!" Naiva cried, imagining their broken bodies.
But she didn't cry. Tears would not bring them back.

"They're all right."

"How can you know?"

"The windfolk told me. They called me up here to give me a message for Grandmother."

"What did they say?"

She rubbed her eyes as if they were burning. "I have to tell Grandmother."

"Not me? Don't you trust me?"

"Why do you always make it about you?"

"I don't always make it about me!"

A faint boom sounded as another avalanche ripped away at an unseen slope.

"Sound causes avalanches, too," Baishya added in a whisper.

"As if I don't know that!"

"Then why are you still talking?"

Naiva bit back a retort. It was so annoying when Baishya was right, but she was right, and
Naiva knew better to risk loud sounds where another avalanche might easily break. She
grabbed her spear and the pack. They picked their way as quickly as was safe across the
remains of the snowfield. The avalanche had hit the debris field full on, tossing stones farther
down the mountain. Here they found the corpses of a small pack of goblins, smashed and
smothered.

"Told you something was stalking us," Naiva muttered.

Baishya waved a hand for silence.

An object scraped softly on rock. Naiva whipped around just as a squat, blood-spattered
goblin leaped from behind a boulder right at her. Its claws raked for her head, but she
slammed its torso with the haft of her spear and sent it tumbling. The tip of its claw caught on
her leather shoulder plate. She used its momentum to flip it off her and onto the ground. It hit
hard, feet scrabbling for purchase as it attempted to get to its feet. She was faster, with a cut
to its hip to cripple it, in and out through tough skin and gristle, followed by a stab to the
face. The first poke missed, and the point skittered on the rock. The goblin snapped at her
arm, teeth catching on her leather vambrace. She stomped hard once, slamming its head back
again, then circled her spear point back and skewered it with a thrust through the eye into the
brain.

Blood leaked brightly over the snow.

She gave herself a moment of grim amusement that she had reason to be thankful for the
avalanche. A single goblin was no danger to a hunter, but against so many she and Baishya
could have been overwhelmed.

Baishya had her knife out, kicking each of the crushed goblins to make sure there was no life
left in them. Naiva wiped her blade clean in the snow, shook out their game net, and rolled
the small bodies into it.

"The tribe isn't starving, Nai. No one wants to eat goblin."

"We are not leaving meat behind. Not with dragons so close."

Dragging the laden net behind them, they slogged over to where stands of hardy juniper
offered a more stable path down into the valley. Clouds of white haze were still billowing
skyward along the avalanche's path. The dragons, taking it as a game, raced in from the
distant peaks to breathe fire onto the heaps of snow. Meltwater churned down the valley's
cleft in rising bursts of whitewater.
 Thornwood Falls | Art by: Eytan Zana

"Even if they survived the avalanche, how can they survive such a flood?" Naiva whispered,
heart cold. She hated being afraid. It made her angry.

"The windfolk promised me." Yet Baishya's voice shook, no longer so certain. She reached
for Naiva, and they clasped hands for shared reassurance. This was how it had always been:
born when the midwife had cut open the belly of their dead mother, even then they'd been
holding hands.

The stream at the bottom of the valley had swollen into a rampaging river sweeping far past
its banks and now brown with debris and soil and torn up vegetation. They could not descend
directly into the valley lest they be swept up in the flood, so they took a longer route picking
their way along the slope at an angle.

"We could be moving faster if we didn't have to haul this dead weight." Baishya gestured to
the lifeless goblins tumbled up into the net.

"I say that to myself about you all the time!"

Baishya laughed and stopped complaining, but in fact Naiva's mind was churning through
every possible disaster. If Grandmother was dead, what then? Was it better to go to Ayagor,
where there was a permanent encampment devoted to the feeding of Dragonlord Atarka? Or
to join a new hunting band, one of the many that ranged widely through the vast territory of
the Qal Sisma to find new sources of game? Or to journey to the borderlands where small
hunting parties lived in defensible caves and ran patrols?

She intended to survive, and that meant finding people who would take them in. People who
wouldn't mind Baishya's absentmindedness when she burned a pan of roasting barley, or her
dreamy staring at the sky when she was supposed to be scraping a hide. People who wouldn't
just turn her twin over to Atarka once they discovered she was a shaman. Yet, what if
Baishya was a burden heavier than the net of dead goblins? What if there was no group that
would risk taking in a young, inexperienced whisperer whose presence could get them all
killed? Could the two girls survive alone? Or would Naiva have to let her go?

"Look there!" Baishya jolted to a halt, breathing hard.

The waters had begun to recede, leaving the valley floor scoured clean of vegetation. Even
trees had been torn from the ground and whirled downward to fetch up in teetering piles. A
hill rose above one such heap of debris. Crowned with hardy fir trees, it had remained above
the flood. People sheltered there, small as ants from this distance.

By the time they trudged off the mountainside their legs were coated with mud and Naiva's
whole body was aching. But a shout greeted them as they reached the hill. A sentry beckoned
them in under the trees. Several fires were blazing as the big hunting party dried out. No tents
had survived the scramble to safety, but the hunters had their gear.

Grandmother was tending to several injured people. Her stern expression relaxed slightly as
she saw them, but this touch of relief was all the emotion she allowed herself.

"Naiva, what do you have there?"

"A pack of dead goblins that were trying to sneak up on us."

Grandmother nodded curtly. As always, she simply expected Naiva to have done the right
thing without ever bothering to praise her. "Baishya, come aside with me."

Naiva handed the net over to other hunters and followed Grandmother and Baishya into the
trees.

"What happened, girl? Some of the people are muttering that you going up the sacred
mountain caused the avalanche. We barely escaped. Worse, this valley will take generations
to recover. We've relied on the rich hunting here to feed ourselves now that Atarka demands
so much meat."

"It was the windfolk."

"You saw the windfolk? They haven't communicated with us since we bowed our heads to
Atarka. I doubt they trust us now."

"They gave me a message for you, Grandmother."

"For me?"

"For Yasova Dragonclaw."

 Yasova Dragonclaw | Art by: Winona Nelson

Naiva leaned closer, hands curling into fists, shocked to hear Baishya speak that word. Atarka
had banished the name Dragonclaw and eaten every person who had dared use the term in her
presence.

"Naiva, don't let anyone approach until she's finished." Grandmother grasped Baishya's arm.
"Tell me everything."

In the shadow of the fir trees the air felt colder than ever. An old skin of snow half circled the
north-facing trunks of the big trees where the sun never reached. Baishya let out all her breath
in a hissing exhale. Her voice got rougher as she slipped into a whisper trance, sinking back
into the vision the windfolk had granted her. Naiva was no shaman, but she had always been
able to sense vague aspects of her twin's thoughts. She too seemed to sink back into the midst
of the killing avalanche when all the world was tumbling around them; however, it wasn't the
memory but the vision through which they fell.

THERE IS A SHADOW, A GREAT SHADOW. IT IS NOT CLOUDS, NOR IS IT NIGHT. RIPPLES SWEEP
THROUGH THE VAST AIRY GULF OF THE SKY. THE SHADOW IS A MAGNIFICENT CREATURE,
TERRIFYING AND DARK AND POWERFUL, AND IT IS BLIND, OR MAYBE IT WAS BORN IN A PLACE
OF BLINDNESS AND DOES NOT KNOW HOW TO SEE. ITS WINGS BEAT STORMS THROUGH THE
HEAVENS. OUT OF THE STORMS FALL GIANT EGG-STONES IN DIFFERENT COLORS. SOME
PLUMMET WITHOUT EVER WAKING, BUT THE ONES WHO WAKE UNCURL AS THEY FALL AND
SHAKE THEMSELVES IN THE WIDE VAST GULF OF THE SKY. THEIR WINGS UNFURL, FOR THEY ARE
NOT EGGS. THEY ARE THE CHILDREN OF THE GREAT SHADOW THAT LIVES BETWIXT AND
BETWEEN, IN A PLACE AND IN NO PLACE. THEY ARE NEWBORN DRAGONS CURLED UP INTO A
BALL, AND THEY FALL TUMBLING OUT OF THE SKY IN A FLURRY OF ICE AND WINGS.

FROM ONE BEAT OF THE GREAT SHADOW'S WINGS, THERE FALL SEVEN SUCH EGG-STONES ONTO
A WORLD THAT IS NOT TARKIR, ALTHOUGH THERE IS NO NAME FOR IT IN THE LANGUAGE OF THE
WINDFOLK.
FIRST THE BRIGHTEST ONE UNCURLS. WITH THE BEAT OF PALE WINGS, AS IT SLOWS ITS
DESCENT, IT OPENS ITS EYES AND SPEAKS: "ARCADES SABBOTH." BY NAMING ITSELF IT TAKES
CONTROL OF ITS OWN DESTINY. NO DRAGON WOULD ALLOW ANOTHER TO NAME IT. UNLIKE THE
SMALL BEASTS OF THE LOWER WORLDS, THEY ALWAYS KNOW EXACTLY WHO THEY ARE.

THEN RISES A DRAGON WHOSE SCALES HAVE A METALLIC SHEEN. HIS VOICE IS MEASURED AND
CURIOUS, AS IF SURPRISED AND DELIGHTED TO DISCOVER HE ALSO HAS A NAME: "I AM
CHROMIUM RHUELL. HOW INTERESTING. WHAT DOES THIS ALL MEAN?"

A MASSIVE WELTER OF REDDISH-GREEN FLASHES OUTWARD TO REVEAL SPIRAL HORNS AND A

WILD HOWL: "PALLADIA-MORS IS MY NAME! NO ONE ELSE CAN HAVE IT!"

TWO OF THE BIGGER EGG-STONES DROP AS IF THEY ARE ALREADY DEAD. THEY CRACK INTO THE
HARD GROUND AND GOUGE IMPACT CRATERS INTO A MOUNTAINSIDE. SOIL AND ROCK SPLASH
OUTWARD FROM EACH STRIKE TO MAKE A RING OF DEBRIS.

"WHAT IS THIS PLACE?" SAYS CHROMIUM RHUELL AS HE GLIDES DOWN TO LAND A TRIFLE
GRACELESSLY—HE'S STILL VERY YOUNG—ON THE PEAK OF AN ISOLATED MOUNTAIN RISING IN
THE MIDST OF A VAST PLATEAU. THE MOUNTAIN IS A SMOOTH-SLOPED CONICAL SHAPE,
SYMMETRICAL AND PLEASING, WITH A LARGE CRATER AT THE TOP. HE PEERS INTO THE BOWL
OF THE CRATER BUT SEES NO HUGE BROKEN EGG. A WARM WIND RISES OUT OF THE DEPTHS, HOT
AND SULPHURIC. "AH! WHAT A PLEASANT HEAT!"

HE OPENS HIS WINGS, LETTING THE SUN DRY OUT THE DAMPNESS LINGERING ON HIS STILL-SOFT
SCALES. CRANING HIS SUPPLE NECK, HE STUDIES THE LANDSCAPE. THE GREAT SHADOW RIPPLES
ACROSS AN EXPANSE OF FOREST AND GRASSLAND TOWARD A RIDGE OF DISTANT MOUNTAINS.
SUNLIGHT RETURNS BEHIND ITS PASSAGE, GILDING THE SCENE WITH VIVID COLORS.

Timber Gorge | Art by: YW Tang

ARCADES SABBOTH ALIGHTS BESIDE HIM TO BASK. "SUCH A LOT OF TREES EVERYWHERE
AROUND OUR PERCH. AND LOOK, THERE ARE ALL SORTS OF ANIMALS ABOUNDING HERE, SOME
ON FOUR FEET AND SOME ON TWO. SOME ARE WILD, AND SOME HAVE TAMED THEMSELVES.
THEY MUST ALL HAVE NAMES, JUST AS WE DO. WHAT IS THAT ASSEMBLAGE OF STRUCTURES
OVER BY THE RIVER? IT LOOKS VERY ORDERLY AND INTERESTING."
THE REDDISH-GREEN DRAGON LANDS LOWER DOWN TO EXPLORE THE FRESH DEBRIS SCATTERED
BY THE IMPACT OF THE TWO EGGS INTO THE MOUNTAIN. SHE SNORTS IN SCORN AT THE
SHATTERED BODIES LYING BROKEN INSIDE. "THESE TWO WERE TOO WEAK TO WAKE UP. GOOD
RIDDANCE."

"LOOK!" CHROMIUM GAZES SKYWARD. "THERE ARE TWO MORE!"

TWO SMALL EGG-STONES TUMBLE GROUNDWARD, LIKE AN AFTERTHOUGHT.

PALLADIA-MORS GRUNTS. "MORE WEAK, USELESS ONES." SHE TURNS HER ATTENTION TOWARD
DISTANT GRASSLANDS WHERE BEASTS GRAZE IN TEEMING HERDS. "I'M GOING HUNTING."

WITH A HUFF OF BREATH THAT ALMOST KINDLES TO FLAME, SHE LAUNCHES HERSELF INTO THE
SKY.

THE SLOPE OF THE MOUNTAIN CUTS OFF THE TRAJECTORY OF THE LAST TWO EGG-STONES.
LOSING INTEREST IN THE LOST EGG-STONES, ARCADES SWEEPS OUT HIS WINGS AND FLIES
TOWARD THE ASSEMBLAGE OF STRUCTURES. YET CHROMIUM RHUELL CAN'T HELP BUT
WONDER WHAT HAS BECOME OF THE LAST ONES, THESE YOUNGER SIBLINGS, ESPECIALLY WHEN
NO TREMOR OF IMPACT SHAKES THE GROUND.

WHEN HE CIRCLES THE PEAK, HE SEES NOTHING ON ITS LOWER SLOPES: NO IMPACT CRATER, NO
FRESHLY BORN DRAGONS FLYING, NOTHING. JUST A DENSE GROWTH OF TREES CUT THROUGH
HERE AND THERE WITH MEADOWS. IT'S AS IF THE OTHER EGG-STONES DISSOLVED, AND MAYBE
THEY DID. MAYBE THEY WERE OF NO MORE SUBSTANCE IN THIS WORLD THAN THE UR-WINGS
THAT BIRTHED THEM AND FELL BACK INTO THE REALM OF BLIND SHADOW. HE WONDERS WHAT
ARCADES IS UP TO AND IF HE SHOULD GO AFTER HIM, THEN NOTICES ANOTHER EGG-FALL IN THE
FOOTHILLS OF A FAR DISTANT MOUNTAIN RANGE AS THE GREAT SHADOW'S WINGS MAKE
ANOTHER BEAT: "MORE EGG-STONES FALLING! COUSINS!"

INTRIGUED, HE FLIES AWAY TO SEEK THEM OUT.

SO HE DOES NOT SEE THE TANGLE OF WINGS THAT UNFOLD JUST BEFORE IMPACT. THE SIXTH
EGG-STONE UNFURLS INTO A STARTLED GREEN DRAGON JUST BEFORE SHE CRASHES DOWN INTO
A CLEARING AT THE BASE OF THE MOUNTAIN AND ROLLS SEVERAL TIMES. HER CLUMSY
LANDING SURPRISES A PARTY OF HUNTERS WHO, WITH NETS, IRON-TIPPED SPEARS, AND LEAN,
UGLY DOGS, HAVE JUST BROUGHT DOWN A LARGE CARNIVOROUS BEAST. ITS BLOOD IS STILL
STEAMING, FRAGRANT AND WARM, AND SO THE HUNGER CONSUMING HER BELLY IS HER FIRST
THOUGHT. SHE ROARS TO SCARE THEM AWAY.

"I AM MERREVIA SAL. GIVE ME THE MEAT, OR I WILL KILL YOU."

THE STARTLED HUNTERS AND THEIR DOGS ARE SO OVER-AWED BY HER UNEXPECTED FEROCITY
AND SHATTERING ROAR THAT THEY DO NOT NOTICE THE LAST EGG-STONE. IT UNFURLS INTO
NOT ONE, BUT TWO SMALL DRAGONS BORN TWINNED TOGETHER. NOT TWENTY PACES FROM
THE CLEARING THEY HIT THE CANOPY, CRASHING DOWN THROUGH BRANCHES AND, WITH TWIN
THUMPS, COME TO REST ON THE FOREST FLOOR AMID A WELTER OF NEEDLES AND FERN.
"OUCH," SAYS THE SMALLER OF THE TWO. HE RUBS HIS HEAD AGAINST THE GROUND TO WIPE
AWAY A TRICKLE OF BLOOD WHERE THE TOUGH BRANCHES HAVE SCRATCHED THROUGH THE
STILL- TENDER SCALES.

THE OTHER ONE TRIES TO SHAKE OPEN HIS BRUISED WINGS BUT IS TRAPPED BY BRANCHES
FALLEN LIKE A NET OVER HIM. A BROKEN TREE TRUNK PINS HIS BODY. "I'M STUCK," HE SAYS.

"I'LL HELP YOU," SAYS THE FIRST, STUDYING THE OTHER WITH A KEEN EYE. "YOU'RE NICOL,
AREN'T YOU? THAT'S YOUR NAME."

"OF COURSE IT'S MY NAME. HSST, QUIET, UGIN. LOOK OUT THERE. WHAT KIND OF GREETING
ARE THEY GIVING HER? I DON'T TRUST THEM."

IN THE CLEARING MERREVIA SAL ROARS AGAIN. THE HUNTERS BACK AWAY FROM THE BEAST
THEY 'VE KILLED. SHE IS BIG COMPARED TO THE BIPEDS, BUT WHEN SHE LUNGES FORWARD
TOWARD THE CARCASS, HER RIGHT WING DRAGS A LITTLE. THE FALL INJURED HER. THE
HUNTERS EXCHANGE LOOKS LIKE SPEECH. WITH NODS AND GESTURES, THEY FAN OUT.
SOMETHING ABOUT THEIR DEMEANOR HAS CHANGED. THEY ARE STILL CAUTIOUS AND
FEARFUL, BUT AS SHE GORGES HERSELF THEY SLOWLY MOVE TO ENCIRCLE HER WITH A FORM OF
LESSER CUNNING, SLY AND COWARDLY. WHEN SHE RAISES HER HEAD TO COUGH WARNING
SMOKE AT THEM, THEY FALL BACK; WHEN HER ATTENTION RETURNS TO HER MEAL, THEY CREEP
FORWARD AGAIN.

"STAY STILL." UGIN STARTS PICKING AT THE DEBRIS WITH HIS FORECLAWS AND MOUTH,
TRYING TO PULL IT APART WITHOUT UPSETTING THE ENTIRE HEAP INTO A CRASH THAT WILL
DRAW ATTENTION TO THEM.

NICOL CAN'T LOOK AWAY, GRIPPED BY A CONFUSION, A FRENZY CHURNING IN HIS GUT: THE
BLOOD AND THE ANTICIPATION SWELL LIKE HUNGER; HOW DARE THESE SMALL, WEAK BIPEDS
ASSAULT ONE OF HIS OWN?

THE HUNTERS FLING A LARGE NET OVER HER HEAD. WITH A HOWL OF SURPRISE SHE THRUSTS
UPWARD, TO FLY. THE HUNTERS CLING TO THE ENDS OF THE NET, AND AT FIRST HER SHEER
STAGGERING STRENGTH HAULS THOSE WHO CAN HOLD ON RIGHT UP OFF THE GROUND, THEIR
FEET KICKING IN THE AIR. AS SHE TOPS THE NEAREST TREES THE NET TANGLES SO THOROUGHLY
IN HER WINGS THAT SHE LOSES HER LIFT AND FLAILS DOWNWARD. SHE CRUSHES ONE HUNTER
WHEN SHE LANDS ON HIM, THRASHING AND ROARING. SHE BITES AT THE ROPE, BUT NOW HER
DAMAGED WING IS ALSO CAUGHT IN A BRANCH AND SHE CAN'T MANEUVER. DOGS BARK
EXCITEDLY, NIPPING AT HER FLANKS AS SHE TWISTS.

"HURRY UP! WE HAVE TO HELP HER." SAYS NICOL.

"QUIET. IF THEY SEE US, YOU'RE TRAPPED AND AT THEIR MERCY."

 Dragon | Art by: Jack Wang

NICOL HISSES. IT'S TRUE THEY CAN DO NOTHING AS LONG AS HE'S TRAPPED. IT'S MADDENING.
IT'S WRONG!

WITH A COUGH OF STINGING SPARKS SHE DRIVES BACK THE FIRST ATTACK. HER SCORCHING
BREATH DRIVES TWO HUNTERS TO THEIR KNEES. THEY SHRIEK IN PAIN AS BURNS WHITEN THEIR
SKIN. THE OTHERS FALL BACK. ONE AMONG THEM SHOUTS ORDERS, AND AGAIN THEY RALLY,
AGAIN THEY READY THEIR SPEARS. THEY ATTACK FROM ALL SIDES, YELLING LOUDLY, GOADING
EACH OTHER. SHE CLAWS THE BELLY OF ONE RIGHT OPEN, GUTS SPILLING IN A MASS OF OOZE
AND STINK. BUT HIS DEATH GIVES THE LEADER AN OPENING TO DUCK IN ON HER OTHER SIDE
AND PLUNGE HIS SPEAR DEEP INTO THE STILL-SOFT SCALES OF HER UNDERBELLY. HOT BLOOD
PUMPS OUT FROM THE WOUND, SPRAYING THE LEADER FROM HEAD TO TOE IN RED. SHE FLOPS
SIDEWAYS, HER CAUGHT WING TEARING WITH A HORRIBLE RIPPING NOISE. ANOTHER HUNTER
GOES DOWN BENEATH THE BULK OF HER TWISTING BODY, BUT NOW HER HEAD IS VULNERABLE.
TWO HUNTERS THRUST INTO HER RIGHT EYE. DOGS LUNGE FOR HER OPEN BELLY, SCRABBLING
TO DIG DEEP AND PULL OUT HER SOFT VISCERA.

YET STILL SHE STRUGGLES, STILL SHE FIGHTS BECAUSE SHE IS A DRAGON, AND DRAGONS NEVER
BOW BEFORE LESSER CREATURES. SHE CRUNCHES A DOG BETWEEN HER TEETH. LEFT SIDE
DRAGGING, THE TWO SPEARS STILL WOBBLING FROM HER EYE, SHE PULLS HERSELF INTO THE
TREES, SEEKING ESCAPE ALTHOUGH THERE IS NO ESCAPE AS THE SURVIVING HUNTERS,
INCLUDING THE LEADER CLAD IN HER BLOOD, PURSUE HER.

NICOL IS STILL STUCK. HE OPENS HIS MOUTH TO ROAR FURY, BUT UGIN CLAMPS TALONS OVER
HIS MUZZLE, SMOTHERING HIM. "HUSH."

FORTUNE FAVORS THE TWO YOUNG DRAGONS THIS DAY: THE HUNTED LEADS THE HUNTERS
AWAY FROM THEM. BUT THEY HEAR THE SHOUTING AND THE FRENZIED BARKING. ALMOST
LOST BETWEEN ALL THE NOISE COMES THE DRAGON'S WEAK COUGH AS SHE TRIES TO BURN
THEM. THERE'S MORE THRASHING, A HOWL OF PAIN, AGONIZED YELPS, A MORTAL SCREAM.

"HURRY UP, UGIN!" SAYS NICOL. "IT'S NOT TOO LATE. SHE'S STILL KILLING THEM."
"KICK WITH YOUR RIGHT REAR LEG."

NICOL KICKS, DISLODGING A WEIGHT.

"THAT WAS THE LAST ONE."

IMPATIENT, NICOL SURGES FORWARD, SCRAMBLING OVER A TUMBLE OF ROUGH-BARKED LIMBS

AS THE REST OF THE DEBRIS SLIDES AWAY ONTO THE FLOOR.

AS HE AND UGIN BOLT INTO THE CLEARING LITTERED WITH THE CORPSES OF FIVE HUNTERS AND
THREE DOGS, A CHORUS OF TRIUMPHANT SHOUTS SPLITS THE AIR. THE ODOR OF MORTALITY
CUTS LIKE A GUST OF WIND THROUGH THE TREES. THE DEATH OF A DRAGON SMELLS LIKE
HONEY. ITS SWEETNESS IS ITS POWER, ALTHOUGH THESE HUNTERS DON'T KNOW THAT YET.

"IT'S TOO LATE," SIGHS UGIN.

THE HEAT OF ANGER BOILS UP FROM DEEP IN NICOL'S HEART. HE WILL BURN THEM. BURN
THEM.

UGIN GRABS HIS RIGHT REAR LEG AND TUGS HIM TO A HALT. "THERE ARE MANY OF THEM AND
ONLY TWO OF US. WE ARE SMALLER THAN OUR SISTER."

"WE ARE NOT INJURED."

"WE CAN DO NOTHING FOR HER."

"WE CAN AVENGE HER. THESE PUNY CREATURES CANNOT BE ALLOWED TO ATTACK US."

"WE MUST FIND THE OTHERS FIRST. SAFETY IN NUMBERS, AS THE HUNTERS HAD. NOT ONE OF
THEM COULD HAVE TAKEN HER ALONE."

"WHAT OTHERS?"

"OTHER DRAGONS WHO FELL WITH US. OUR SIBLINGS. DID YOU NOT NOTICE THEM?"

NICOL LOOKS AT THE CLOUDLESS SKY AND THE DIZZYINGLY BRILLIANT SUN. THE SUN IS
MAGNIFICENT, BOLDER AND BRIGHTER THAN ANYTHING ELSE, DAZZLING AND POWERFUL, THE
ANTITHESIS OF SHADOW AND FEAR.

"I AM NOT AFRAID OF THE HUNTERS," HE SAYS, SURE THAT THE SUN FEARS NOTHING.
 Mountain | Art by: Jonas De Ro

"OF COURSE YOU AREN'T."

"I'M NOT!"

UGIN IS YOUNG BUT CLEVER. HE SEES THAT TO ARGUE WILL GAIN HIM NOTHING. "COME,
NICOL. LET US CLIMB TO THE TOP OF THE PEAK AND SEE IF WE CAN SPOT OUR SIBLINGS."

NICOL IS NOT GOING TO ADMIT HE DID NOT NOTICE ANY DRAGONS EXCEPT MERREVIA SAL. BUT
MORE THAN THAT, HE DESPISES RUNNING AWAY LIKE A FEAR-STRUCK WEAKLING. YET THE
DOGS HAVE STARTED BARKING WITH THE FIERCE YAPS THAT MEAN THEY HAVE CAUGHT A NEW
SCENT. THE HUNTERS ARE PUNY, TRUE, AND THEIR SISTER KILLED FIVE OF THEM ALREADY, BUT
THEY 'VE PROVEN THEY CAN WORK TOGETHER TO ACCOMPLISH A TASK THAT WOULD BE
IMPOSSIBLE FOR ANYONE ALONE.

"WHICH WAY?"

"UP."

UGIN TAKES AN AWKWARD RUNNING START AND JUMPS WITH A FLAP OF WINGS, THEN THUDS
DOWN ONTO THE GROUND. IT WOULD HAVE BEEN FUNNY IF THEY WEREN'T ABOUT TO BE SET
UPON BY EMBOLDENED KILLERS.

"I CAN DO IT," SAYS NICOL.

THE CHORUS OF FRANTIC BARKING INTENSIFIES AS SEVERAL DOGS RACE INTO THE CLEARING. A
KICK OF ADRENALIN SURGES THROUGH HIM. HE LEAPS FORWARD ONTO THE LEAD DOG AND RIPS
ITS HEAD OFF WITH A SINGLE BITE. SALTY BLOOD SATURATES HIS MOUTH. HE CHOMPS SEVERAL
TIMES AND SWALLOWS. IT WOULD TASTE BETTER IF HE COULD SAVOR IT, BUT TEETH NIP AT HIS
FLANKS AS OTHER DOGS RACE AROUND HIM, SNAPPING.

"NICOL! THEY'RE COMING."

"ONLY COWARDS RUN!"

"ONLY FOOLS MISTAKE PRUDENCE FOR COWARDICE."

ANNOYED BECAUSE UGIN IS RIGHT, NICOL SWIPES WITH A CLAW IN A BIG CIRCLE, DRIVING
BACK THE DOGS. MORE BREAK THROUGH THE BUSHES AT THE CLEARING'S EDGE. THE HUNTERS'
VOICES ARE GETTING LOUDER. WHEN HE PUSHES OFF WITH HIS REAR LEGS AND FLAPS HIS
WINGS HE RISES FASTER THAN EXPECTED; EVEN SO, HE'S STILL AWKWARD. HIS LOWER CLAWED
FEET BRUSH ACROSS THE POINTED CROWNS OF FIR TREES. HE BARELY FLIES OUT OF THE
CLEARING WITHOUT GETTING TANGLED IN THE TREES AGAIN. BUT HE IS OUT, AWAY FROM THE
HUNTERS, SOME OF WHOM HAVE NOW RUN INTO THE CLEARING. THEY STARE UP AFTER HIM, NO
DOUBT IN AWE.

AS HE RISES ABOVE THE FOREST, HE STARTS FLYING TOWARD THE PEAK. HE LOOKS BACK,
SUDDENLY WORRIED. UGIN HAS VANISHED.

"OVER HERE!" HIS TWIN HAS PASSED HIM ALREADY.

THEY RACE TO THE SUMMIT AND LAND IN A WELTER OF WINGS.

NICOL WIPES BLOOD FROM HIS MUZZLE ONTO HIS FORELEGS. THE BLOOD IS ALREADY COOLING
AND CONGEALING, BUT THE POUND OF HIS HEART IS STILL GOING STRONG. HOW EASY IT WAS TO
RIP THE ANIMAL'S HEAD FROM ITS NECK! HE COULD HAVE TORN THROUGH ALL THE DOGS
BECAUSE THEIR TEETH CAN'T PENETRATE HIS SCALES. IT IS THE HUNTERS WHO ARE
DANGEROUS, WITH THEIR WEAPONS AND THE WAY THEY WORK TOGETHER TO ACHIEVE
SOMETHING THEY CANNOT DO ALONE.

THEN HE SEES THE NEAREST IMPACT CRATER AND INSIDE IT THE BODY OF A DRAGON, MUCH
LARGER THAN EITHER HE OR UGIN. IT DID NOT SURVIVE THE FALL.

"WHICH DEATH IS WORSE?" HE ASKS. "NEVER TO WAKEN, OR TO WAKEN AND LIVE YOUR FEW
MOMENTS IN A FRENZY OF FEAR AND FIGHTING?"

UGIN DOES NOT REPLY. HE STARES ALL AROUND AT THE LANDSCAPE. THE WORLD IS NOT NEW,
BUT THEY ARE NEW, LIKE INFANTS WHOSE EYES CANNOT FULLY UNDERSTAND WHAT THEY SEE:
GREEN FOREST, YELLOW-GREEN GRASSY PLAINS, THE SILVER THREADS OF RIVERS WINDING
THEIR WAY ACROSS A WIDE PLATEAU. ALL SORTS OF CREATURES WANDER THIS WIDE WORLD.
EVERYTHING WAITS TO BE DISCOVERED. UGIN SHIFTS HIS GAZE UPWARD AND FOR THE
LONGEST TIME STARES AT THE HEAVENS ABOVE.

"WHERE DID WE COME FROM?" HE ASKS. "WHERE DID OUR PROGENITOR GO? WHAT LIES
BEYOND THE SKY ?"

"I SEE ONE!" NICOL SPOTS A DRAGON SWOOPING LOW OVER A HERD OF ANIMALS. IT'S
EXHILARATING TO WATCH THE PREY SCATTER IN FEAR. THE DRAGON SNATCHES A RUNNING
BEAST WITH SUCH GRACE AND POWER.
 Art by: Chris Rahn

THE YAPPING STILL SOUNDS FROM BELOW AS THE DOGS FIND THE FOREST DEBRIS WHERE HE
AND UGIN LANDED. WHEN HE THINKS OF THE DEAD SISTER, HE WANTS TO TEAR ALL THE
HUNTERS AND DOGS TO PIECES, BUT MAYBE THE FAULT DOESN'T LIE WITH THEM. THEY JUST
TOOK THE OPPORTUNITY TO GET SOMETHING THEY WANTED. MAYBE THE FAULT LIES WITH THE
DRAGONS WHO DIDN'T SURVIVE.

HE CAN STILL HEAR THE DEATH HOWL OF MERREVIA. DYING ISN'T WONDERFUL. IT'S BAD. BUT
BEING THE HUNTER: THAT'S A BETTER THING. HE CLIMBS TO AN OUTCROPPING THAT WILL
ALLOW HIM TO DROP INTO AN UPDRAFT; HE'S ALREADY GETTING A SENSE FOR THIS WORLD, FOR
THE WAY INVISIBLE WINDS AND CURRENTS CAN HELP YOU FIND YOUR PATH.

BEFORE HE LAUNCHES, HE HALTS, FEELING THE LACK OF HIS TWIN'S PRESENCE, AND TURNS
BACK.

UGIN HASN'T MOVED. HE'S STILL STARING DREAMILY AT THE LANDSCAPE.

"YOU FOOL," SAYS BOLAS, "WE HAVE TO KEEP UP WITH THE OTHERS. WARN THEM ABOUT THE
HUNTERS. LEARN HOW TO FIND OUR REVENGE. HURRY!"

UGIN TURNS A CALM GAZE TOWARD NICOL. HIS EYES ARE LIKE CRYSTALS WITH DEPTHS THAT
GIVE WAY TO MYSTERIES.

HE SAYS, "SOMEONE IS LOOKING FOR YOU, YASOVA DRAGONCLAW. COME TO ME."

A shout of warning broke through Baishya's raspy voice. Baishya blinked wildly, swayed as
the vision left her, and collapsed into Grandmother's strong arms. Naiva grabbed her spear
and ran for the edge of the trees.
Three dragons had landed at the edge of the makeshift camp. They were Atarka's broodlings,
with stocky bodies and antlered crests. The two big ones huffed threatening curls of flame,
but like most of Atarka's brood, they hadn't much in the way of a mind to think with. The
smallest, however, had a look of cunning in its fiery eyes. It spoke only Dragonspeech,
expecting them to understand.

"We smell magic in the air. Surrender your shamans to us, or we will kill you all."

Naiva's pulse raced, and her mouth went dry. She tightened a hand on her spear as she
exchanged glances with the uninjured hunters, all of whom stood, like her, with spears held
upright at their side—meant to look unthreatening, they could defend at a moment's notice.
And yet to defend meant attacking the dragons, and such an attack would cause a war
between Atarka and the clan. The humans could not win this war; that's what Grandmother
had understood eighteen years ago.

Was it better to die fighting or to live cringing?

"What heralds have approached this humble band?" Grandmother emerged alone from the
trees. She carried no weapon; the dragon claw staff that had once announced her position as
clan chief had been hidden deep in a secret cave, guarded by concealed whisperers. A fake
one had been carved and given to Atarka to destroy. But Grandmother was weapon enough in
her own presence. If she feared anything, Naiva had yet to learn what it was. "I am Yasova,
First Mother of this hunting band. Do you have a name, honored broodling?"

The broodling spat a tongue of flame harmlessly onto the ground. "A big snowfall tore the ice
and snow off the mountain. How are you not dead in the snowfall? Torn apart like the trees?
We smelled the foul odor of magic. This work is forbidden to you by order of Dragonlord
Atarka."

Grandmother gestured toward the firs standing straight and tall behind them. "We camped
upon this hill," she lied, for anyone who knew anything about camps or had half a brain could
see there was no sign of firepits and temporary shelters. "The avalanche and flood passed
below us. We ask your permission to continue our journey."

The dragon blinked once and then a second time as thoughts crawled across its slow mind.
"Where do you go?"

They had been planning to stay a full cycle of the moon in the verdant valley before returning
toward Ayagor, so Naiva was surprised at Grandmother's next words.

"We have been assigned by our hunt caller to patrol the eastern range of the Qal Sisma
against the incursions of enemy clans. We'd like to keep traveling while there is still daylight.
For your trouble, and out of respect, we have gathered a little snack for you."

She caught Naiva's eye and lifted her chin in the direction of the net. With the help of one of
the other hunters, Naiva dragged it forward and shook out the corpses onto the rocky slope.
The two big dragons snuffled eagerly, looking toward their leader for permission to eat. Even
the small one was distracted by the offering of an unexpected treat. They were a greedy lot,
and their hunger was their frailty.

As they tore into the goblins, Grandmother drew everyone back into the shelter of the trees.
"Make ready to move," she said. "The injured who cannot move must remain here with
supplies until we can return for them."

"Where are we really going?" asked Naiva.

Grandmother gave her an impatient look. "You should already know."

Naiva's cheeks flamed with humiliation. Fingers brushed her sleeve, and she turned to find
Baishya beside her, face flushed, as with a fever.

"Didn't you hear, Nai? The vision was passed to me by the windfolk but it didn't come from
them."

"Who did it come from?"

"From Ugin, the Spirit Dragon."

"Ugin is dead. Grandmother was there and saw him die. She's told us that story a hundred
times."

"Yes. That's why we have to go to Ugin's grave. We must find out what this vision portends."

CHRONICLE OF BOLAS: THE FIRST

LESSON
Naiva crouched on a knob of rock, looking back toward the mountains. Their hunting party
had finally reached a high plateau yesterday after days of traveling through the rough and
treacherous landscape. When Naiva was a little girl, Grandmother had brought her and
Baishya to the high plateau. Back then—all those years ago—the mountains had been
blanketed with thick snow and massive glaciers. Now the snow cover was patchy, rock
showing through; the avalanche that had almost killed her and Baishya on Eternal Peak was
one of many tearing the snow and ice off the once frosty peaks. The world was changing. If
you didn't change with it, you'd be swept away.

She scanned the sky for any sign of the Atarka broodling who had been following them for
days, but it had vanished. When she turned to look out over the plateau, she caught her
breath. Far away, a long dragon swooped and dove, then rose skyward again with a sinuous,
rippling grace no bird could copy.
She glanced down into a rock-ringed hollow where the other hunters were rolling up the
hides under which they'd sheltered for the night.

"Bai, come see."

Her twin sister climbed up beside her, squinting against the rising sun. "It isn't one of Atarka's
broodlings. Too long and lean."

"If it isn't, then it shouldn't be hunting in Atarka territory. What's taking so long for everyone
to get going?" She again glanced down to where the hunters were readying their weapons and
packs for the day's march. All wore heavy leather coats except for the tallest among them, the
Kolaghan-born orc named Fec, with his graying crest of stiff black hair. Unlike the others, he
wore nothing on his torso, only a heavy skirt of braided leather strips. A pair of swords were
slung cross-wise on his mottled back, and he held a stout walking staff in his left hand. "It's
probably that old orc slowing us down. I don't see why we have to have him with us."

"Grandmother has her reasons for everything she does. Now be quiet. Here she comes."

Yasova clambered up beside them, dropping to one knee beside the girls. The high plateau
spread before them, so wide and bare it seemed the skin of the earth had no clothing to
protect it. A straggly line of stunted trees marked the course of a stream that wound across the
plateau. Otherwise, the stark landscape was nothing but stretches of grass, marshy hollows,
puddles of icy water melting out of patches of snow, and knobs of bare rock like this one
poking above the grass amid a tumble of boulders. The wind never let up, rippling through
grass, tugging at loose strands of Naiva's hair.

Rugged Highlands | Art by: Eytan Zana

"Do you see the dragon?" Naiva pointed east.

"Of course I see it." Grandmother shaded her eyes to cut out the glare. "That's an Ojutai
dragon. It's curious to find one here in Atarka's territory, and it's never good when curious
things happen."

"It might have wandered here accidentally."

"An Ojutai broodling? No. They're too intelligent to do anything by mistake."

"Dragons can be smart and not just hungry?"

"Haven't you been paying attention to Grandmother's history lessons?" Baishya elbowed her
twin in the ribs, although the thick leather tunic Naiva wore absorbed most of the force, so
the impact did not even rock her. "Ojutai is a great scholar. All his broodlings are lesser
scholars."

"Scholars of dragon lore, not of human lore," said Grandmother with a disapproving purse of
her lips. "He began the purges. The other dragonlords followed his lead."

"The purges?" Naiva regretted asking the question as Baishya rolled her eyes.

"Do you listen at all, Nai?"

"No one in our age group casts a hunting spear or shoots an arrow more accurately than me.
What do I care about old stories?"

"Enough." Grandmother rose stiffly in a way that troubled Naiva, who was used to seeing her
grandmother as eternally strong and capable. But when her eye caught Naiva's, not a sliver of
weakness showed in her hard gaze. "We'll have to swing wide and go along the watercourse,
using the trees as cover. I want to reach Ugin's grave without tangling with that dragon."

She turned to look back toward the western range of the Qal Sisma.

"Is that Atarka broodling still following us, do you think?" Naiva asked. "I haven't seen it
since yesterday."

"Neither have I," said Grandmother. "I don't like that it's vanished. Maybe it got bored.
Maybe it's stalking us for reasons that pass as thought in its small mind. Some of Atarka's
broodlings have a low cunning that makes them particularly dangerous. Girls, you'll walk
with me in the center of our line."

Baishya nodded with a smile, for she loved no place better than being close to Grandmother,
but Naiva's anger flared.

"You said I'd be allowed to scout once we reached the plateau!"

"That was before the Ojutai broodling. Come along."

No sense in arguing with Grandmother.

But Naiva fumed as they set out, and she fumed as they walked, forming words with her lips
without giving them breath to make sound. Now and again her twin would roll a sideways
gaze at her and waggle her eyebrows, mocking her, until at last her mood began to soften at
the familiar teasing. The morning's trudge in the shade of the tangled growth along the lazy
curves of the watercourse was unpleasant, not that she would ever admit the constant buzz of
insects and the pull of thorny vines and brush of stinging nettle bothered her. Any hunter
worth her salt was above commenting on such mundane discomforts. The others walked with
grim purpose as they slapped away the incessantly biting bugs.

Just before midday, they reached an oxbow bend in the river where a deep pool had formed
away from the main current. Grandmother raised a hand. "We'll break here and catch fish for
our supper. Rakhan and Sorya, take watch."

Naiva walked to the edge of the tree line and, using the leaves as cover, peered up at the
heavens. A large raptor was gliding in the distance, perhaps a hawk or eagle. A flock of long-
tailed finches patrolled for insects along the edge of the thick vegetation along the
watercourse. After a bit, Grandmother came up to stand beside her, Baishya at her heels.

"There's no sign of the Ojutai dragon," said Naiva. "Maybe it's flown back to its own
territory."

"Maybe." Grandmother studied her until Naiva began to shift from one foot to the other,
fearing she was about to be scolded when she'd been the first to spot the dragon. "Naiva,
you've done well. Protecting your twin. Killing the goblins, and thinking ahead to bring them
to camp. Of course, you keep up without complaint. I expect that from you."

She'd done well!

Grandmother gestured toward the open ground. "Do you see that ring of stones out there?"

Some ways away from the watercourse, amid high grass, a knob of rock rose about a man's
height above the ground. The rock was ringed by a tumble of boulders as if it had once been a
giant firepit. A pair of vultures perched on one of the boulders. They were looking inside the
ring in the way of scavengers, curious about something that might die soon but hadn't died
yet.

"I want you to climb the outcropping and get a clear view, since our vantage is limited here.
If the vultures are not afraid, then we need not be. Approach cautiously regardless."

"Of course!"

"Baishya can go with you."

"I thought I was going to fish with you, Grandmother," Baishya protested.

"You need the practice. If Atarka ever suspects you are a whisperer, she'll eat you. Go on."

Naiva was eager to get going. She left her pack with the others and, carrying only her spear
and knife, hurried into the tall grass. Although the grass was tall enough to hide her from
view, it rustled as she moved through it, a nuisance she'd never had to deal with in the
mountains where grass never grew this high.
 Forest | Art by: Titus Lunter

Behind, Baishya panted, "Wait up."

Disturbed by the noise and movement, the vultures lofted themselves into the air.

"Hssh. Quiet." Naiva slowed as they reached the outer boulders of the ring. She halted with
her back against the rough curve of the nearest boulder and eased around to peek in toward
the sheltered center.

A staff's blunt end whipped past her face, barely missing her as she jerked back. She flipped
her spear forward and, with a quick circling motion, caught the tip of the attacker's staff and
slapped it hard backward. The person holding it stumbled, parrying as she hit his staff again.
She ducked her spear under the point and lunged, and the stranger caught the blow as he spun
his staff downward. But the effort unbalanced him. He staggered backward to get out of her
way. She leaped in, meaning to drive him to the ground, but instead she stopped, staring.

A young man faced her, gasping heavily as he leaned on his staff. The left shoulder of his
garment was sticky with fresh blood. Its red leavings had smeared up his neck to mottle his
chin.

He trembled with pain, an easy kill, and he deserved to be killed for trespassing into Atarka
territory. Yet she hesitated as he gripped the staff more tightly to stay upright, as any proud
warrior should.

In a raspy voice he said, "You are of the Temur clan. I seek Yasova Dragonclaw."

As if this speech drained the last of his strength, he toppled unconscious to the ground.

Baishya stepped up beside her, staring. "Who is he?"

"Get Grandmother."

Baishya took in a sharp breath as if disliking the curtness of her sister's command, shook
herself, and hurried away.
Naiva pressed the point of her spear against the side of his neck. She waited as a hunter waits.
In the silence, she had time to examine him more closely. He had a shaved head and wore
loose trousers and a light gray tunic wrapped with a sash around his waist and belt with a
beautiful gold circular clasp decorated with strands made of tiny silver chains. Movement
flashed in her peripheral vision as the two vultures settled at the height of the outcropping
she'd meant to climb.

"You can only have him if Grandmother decides he's not worth saving," she said to the birds,
but her gaze strayed back to his closed eyes, slightly parted lips, and lean face. He didn't look
anything like the young people she had grown up with; he looked mysterious and intriguing.

He stirred, groaning, and she braced herself in case he came up fighting, but his chin sank
back down and he fell still. She took a step back as Baishya reappeared with the big orc a step
behind. Fec surveyed the sheltered clearing within the stones before whistling an "all clear!"

Only then did Grandmother come inside the ring of rocks. She paced around the unconscious
man, examining him from every angle, then bent to remove the staff from his loose hand.

"He said he is looking for Yasova Dragonclaw," said Naiva.

"Just like in my vision," said Baishya eagerly.

"You saw him?" Naiva didn't want Baishya to have seen him first.

"No, not him. I don't care about him. I heard those words. Remember?"

Maybe their voices woke him, or maybe he was all along fighting his way back to
consciousness. His eyelids fluttered. Even that slight movement troubled his wound. With a
hiss of pain, he woke up, opening his eyes. Blinking, his gaze shifted from one girl to the
other and back again with a squint of confusion.

"How badly did I hit my head?" he whispered. "My vision shows me two. It is said the Temur
whisperers have the power to create a double of themselves out of ice. Is one the magical
revenant of the other?"

Mirror Mockery | Art by: Ryan Alexander Lee

Grandmother's hand tightened on the spear she carried: an ordinary spear with an obsidian
point, not the fabled dragon claw spear that had once heralded her position as ruler of all the
Temur people. "You're being hunted by one of Ojutai's broodlings, aren't you?"

"I am."

"I should kill you and hand you over to your dragonlord. Your presence puts my people at
risk."

"You can't kill him," exclaimed Naiva. "He came to find you! If you don't heal him, he'll die."

"We all die, now or later," replied her Grandmother in her most maddeningly calm tone.
"This could be a trap on the part of Ojutai to find me."

"So you are Yasova, keeper of the past and guardian of the unwritten now."

"Why does it matter to you?"

"Three months ago, my master had a dream. When he woke, he told me I was destined to
make a long journey. He said it was time to share our secrets."

"Many people claim to have secrets, but few of them are worth sharing," Grandmother said.

He took in several ragged breaths to build strength for more words. "Ojutai destroyed the
records Shu Yun preserved for so many generations. He wants to destroy our memory of the
past, and of our ancestors, so our people know only what the dragonlords wish them to know.
But the story the Spirit Dragon told to the first shamans has survived because it wasn't only
written down. It has also been passed down from master to student, memorized and handed
on to the next generation."

Grandmother's brow wrinkled. A glimmer woke in her eyes, a flash of excitement, a thrill of
fear and hope. "The Spirit Dragon spoke to your shamans?"

Haven of the Spirit Dragon | Art by: Raymond Swanland

"Yes, and I know—" He broke off, coughing. Red droplets speckled his chin, and his
breathing grew more ragged as he fought to stay awake.
"We'll never know if you don't heal him," cried Naiva.

"Nai's right," agreed Baishya. "Let him prove the truth of his words."

Grandmother frowned. "Fec? Any sign of the Ojutai broodling?"

The orc crouched atop one of the lesser rocks, though Naiva couldn't imagine how he had
managed to scramble up there with his bad leg. "The sky is empty. That seems to me a bad
sign."

Grandmother knelt beside the young man. "What is your name?"

"I am Tae Jin, Yasova Dragonclaw."

"Do not use that title again."

She took hold of the hand he was pressing to his wound and shifted it to his other side. Blood
welled up against the cloth the instant the pressure was removed. She pulled off her glove and
placed a bare hand, fingers spread, atop the wound. The glow of magic lit her hand, its vital
force like a lantern burning off the agony in his body. He gritted his teeth, making no sound,
but sweat broke on his forehead despite the cold wind blowing over them.

The magic faded. Grandmother's eyes looked drawn and weary, but she gave no other sign of
the toll healing magic had taken on her as she sat back on her haunches.

"Tell me something I don't know, and I may let you live."

He took in and released a breath free of the racking cough. "These are the words of Ugin
Spirit Dragon, who spoke them in ancient days to one of my Jeskai ancestors."

Then he began to speak in a barely audible and almost rote tone as if he were merely a funnel
through which a far more ancient voice spoke across generations.

IF YOU WISH TO MASTER THE WAY, THEN YOU MUST LEARN AND REPEAT AND REMEMBER.
KNOWLEDGE IS ALSO MEMORY. TO FORGET THE PAST IS TO LOSE A PIECE OF OURSELVES. HOW
MUCH MORE SO FOR AN ENTIRE PEOPLE WHO LOSE THEIR PAST.

MY OWN STORY IS A SIMPLE ONE. THE ONE I LOVED BEST IN ALL THE WORLDS IS THE ONE WHO
KILLED ME.

HOW DID IT HAPPEN? THAT IS LESS SIMPLE, AND WILL TAKE LONGER TO TELL. LISTEN
CAREFULLY, FOR HE MAY COME HERE SOMEDAY, AND IF THAT HAPPENS, THEN YOU MUST
BEWARE, FOR WHATEVER WORDS HE SPEAKS TO FLATTER AND PERSUADE YOU WILL BE LIES.
Grandmother hissed sharply.

Baishya took her hand. "Are you all right? Is something paining you?"

"No, it was just a bad memory. Go on, Tae Jin. Now I am interested."

He nodded, as if he had expected this response, and continued speaking.

WE DRAGONS FELL OUT OF THE SKY INTO A LAND THAT DID NOT KNOW US, NOR DID WE KNOW
IT. OF COURSE, THERE WERE MANY OF US FLEDGLINGS. EACH ONE MET THIS NEW WORLD IN
THEIR OWN WAY.

I WAS BORN TWINNED TO NICOL, WHERE IN EVERY OTHER EGG THERE WAS ONLY ONE. WE
WOKE TOGETHER, WE NAMED OURSELVES TOGETHER, WE TOUCHED THE SOIL OF OUR NEW
HOME AT THE SAME INSTANT. WE WITNESSED THE DEATH OF A SISTER, AND IN THIS WAY, WE
LEARNED THAT NO CREATURE IS SAFE. NOT EVEN US.

WHEN NICOL AND I LEFT THE MOUNTAINTOP, WE FLEW IN SEARCH OF OUR SIBLINGS. THE
DEATH OF OUR SISTER HAUNTED ME BECAUSE OF HOW BRIEFLY SHE HAD LIVED AND HOW
SAVAGELY SHE HAD DIED. AS FOR NICOL, IT ANGERED HIM BECAUSE IT SCARED HIM,
ALTHOUGH HE WOULD DENY IT. IF YOU SHOULD EVER HAVE THE MISFORTUNE OF MEETING HIM,
I WOULD NEVER RECOMMEND ANYONE SUGGEST TO HIM THAT HE AT ANY POINT IN HIS LONG
LIFE HAS FELT FEAR.

WHAT ABOUT OUR SURVIVING SIBLINGS? I SUPPOSE YOU HAVE NEVER HEARD OF THEM. THE
NAMES OF THE ELDER DRAGONS WERE ONCE CELEBRATED WITH AWE AND RESPECT. IT IS SO
EASY TO FORGET. NO MEMORY IS SAFE.

BUT WHAT A FLIGHT WE TOOK ON THAT FIRST DAY, SEEING IT ALL WITH NEWBORN EYES! THE
SKY, SO WIDE! CLOUDS LIKE MIST, AND RIVERS STREAMING ACROSS A VAST LAND COVERED
WITH VEGETATION AND BEASTS. I WAS PASSIONATE TO KNOW WHAT EVERYTHING WAS AND TO
DISCOVER ITS NAME AND A PURPOSE.

NICOL STARED AT EVERYTHING TOO, THE SKY SO WIDE AND THE CLOUDS LIKE MIST, AND THEN
HE SAID, "HOW COULD WE HAVE STOPPED THOSE HUNTERS FROM KILLING HER ?"

"ONCE WE UNDERSTAND THE WORLD BETTER, WE WILL FIND THE ANSWER. AREN'T YOU
EXCITED TO EXPLORE?"

"WE SHOULD HAVE INTERFERED."

"YOU WERE TRAPPED."

"I WASN'T TRAPPED! WE COULD HAVE MANAGED SOMETHING, IF YOU HADN'T HESITATED."

"WE DID WHAT WE KNEW TO DO AT THE TIME."

"IT WASN'T ENOUGH! WE MUST LEARN WHAT WE COULD HAVE DONE TO PREVENT IT."

"AREN'T YOU CURIOUS ABOUT THE WORLD?"

"I WANT TO KNOW WHO THOSE HUNTERS ARE, AND WHERE THEY COME FROM, AND HOW WE
CAN DESTROY THEM. THEY'VE LEARNED THEY CAN KILL ONE OF US NOW, SO THEY WILL NOT
FEAR US."

"LOOK OVER THERE," I REPLIED, HOPING TO DISTRACT HIM. "ONE OF OUR SIBLINGS!"

IN A VALLEY HIGH IN THE MOUNTAINS SPREAD A DEEP, DARK LAKE. A LONG LEAN DRAGON
WITH METALLIC SHEEN ON HIS SCALES WAS STRETCHED OUT ON A FLAT OUTCROPPING OF BARE
ROCK, FORELEGS HANGING OVER THE EDGE, HIS SLEEK HEAD DANGLING OVER THE WATER AS IF
HE'D FALLEN ASLEEP. AS WE FLEW EXCITEDLY AROUND HIM, SEEKING A PLACE TO LAND,
SOMETHING MONSTROUSLY LARGE TURNED IN THE WATERS OF THE LAKE, VANISHING INTO
MURKIER DEPTHS. FROM HIS PERCH ON THE OUTCROPPING, CHROMIUM RHUELL LOOKED UP
SHARPLY AND WITH THE GREATEST DISPLEASURE.

Art by: Chase Stone

"WHY DO YOU DISTURB ME, YOUNG ONES?"

"WE ARE NO YOUNGER THAN YOU! WE FELL FROM THE SAME WINGBEAT!" WITHOUT ASKING
PERMISSION, NICOL LANDED BESIDE OUR BROTHER. I HASTILY DROPPED DOWN BESIDE HIM.

"YOU HATCHED LATER, THUS YOU ARE YOUNGER. AND I MUST SAY, YOU'RE QUITE SMALL. IT
TAKES BOTH OF YOU TO MAKE ONE OF ME." HE LOOKED US OVER AS IF MEASURING OUR WORTH
ACCORDING TO OUR SIZE. "YOU'VE RUINED MY OBSERVATION OF THE VARIOUS CREATURES
THAT LIVE IN THE LAKE."

NICOL CRANED HIS NECK TO LOOK DOWN INTO THE MURKY WATERS. "ARE YOU HUNTING?"

"HUNTING? IS THAT ALL YOU THINK ABOUT? WHAT ARE YOUR NAMES? NO, WAIT. NO NEED TO
TELL ME."

"ARE YOU GOING TO TRY TO GUESS OUR NAMES?" NICOL ASKED SARCASTICALLY.

"I DO NOT GUESS. DRAGONS ARE BORN WITH THE GIFT OF NAMES. IT IS IN OUR NATURE TO
KNOW NAMES WITHOUT BEING TOLD THEM. JUST AS WE KNEW OUR OWN NAMES AT THE
MOMENT WE WOKE INTO CONSCIOUSNESS." HE CLOSED HIS EYES, NOT AT ALL AFRAID OF US,
THEN OPENED THEM TO EXAMINE US WITH A KEEN AND UNRELENTING GAZE THAT IRRITATED ME
BECAUSE HE WAS SO SURE OF HIMSELF. BUT HIS CURIOSITY AND CONFIDENCE ALSO INTRIGUED
ME. "WHY DO YOU EACH ONLY HAVE ONE NAME?"

NICOL SAID NOTHING AS HE SCRATCHED A GOUGE IN THE ROCK. STEAM PUFFED OUT OF THE
SIDES OF HIS CLOSED MOUTH.

"WE WERE BORN TWINNED TOGETHER," I SAID, FEELING A BIT DEFENSIVE ON MY TWIN'S
BEHALF AND MAYBE A LITTLE ON MY OWN, TOO.

"AH, SO YOU HAVE TWO NAMES, BUT YOU SHARE THEM BETWEEN YOU, ONE FOR EACH. THAT
WOULD EXPLAIN YOUR SIZE TOO, AND MAYBE WHY YOU LOOK SO MUCH YOUNGER. HMM.
INTERESTING."

"HOW IS IT INTERESTING?" NICOL DEMANDED, TAIL WHIPPING SIDE TO SIDE.

"THERE IS AN ORDER UNDERLYING THE WORLD. IT IS DIFFICULT TO DISCERN BECAUSE MUCH OF

IT IS HIDDEN FROM OUR EYES. OF COURSE, MOST CREATURES LACK THE PATIENCE OR THE
DESIRE TO DELVE INTO THIS BOOK OF KNOWLEDGE."

"I DON'T LACK ANYTHING," SAID NICOL.

CHROMIUM RHUELL HUFFED SMOKILY AND UNFOLDED HIS WINGS ENOUGH TO EXPRESS
DISPLEASURE. "I AM SURE YOU DO NOT. BUT FOR NOW, GO AWAY, LITTLE ONES. I WANT TO
RETURN TO MY OBSERVATIONS. I CAN'T WITH YOU TWO HERE TALKING SO LOUDLY AND
BOTHERING THE WILDLIFE."

"WHAT ABOUT HUNTING?" NICOL ASKED.

"IF HUNTING IS ALL THAT INTERESTS YOU, THEN YOU MAY AS WELL GO FIND PALLADIA-MORS.
SHE CERTAINLY HAS NO GREATER AMBITION."

HE STARED US DOWN UNTIL WE TOOK THE HINT AND DEPARTED.

ON A VAST STRETCH OF GRASSLANDS, A HUGE REDDISH-GREEN DRAGON WITH CURLING HORNS
ROARED AS SHE CHASED A HERD OF FOUR-LEGGED BEASTS. SHE BLASTED FLAMES OVER THE
HINDMOST, AND IT COLLAPSED, QUIVERED, AND EXPIRED. SHE CIRCLED BACK AROUND AND
SETTLED DOWN BESIDE THE CORPSE TO EAT.

I FLEW OVER, NICOL BESIDE ME. WHEN WE LANDED NEXT TO HER, SHE TURNED RAW RED EYES
UPON US AND SPAT A WARNING GUST OF FIRE IN OUR DIRECTION.

"THIS IS MINE. MINE."

"YOU ARE PALLADIA-MORS," I SAID POLITELY. "OUR ELDER SISTER. CHROMIUM RHUELL
SUGGESTED WE COME TO YOU TO LEARN ABOUT HUNTING."

"GO HUNT YOUR OWN." SHE TORE OFF A GREAT SLAB OF FLESH, AND WITH BLOOD STAINING
HER MUZZLE AND TEETH, SHE GNASHED AND SWALLOWED, THEN TURNED HER HEAD AGAIN TO
GLARE AT US. "YOU'RE SO SMALL, THE TWO OF YOU. LITTLE RUNTS. PROBABLY TOO SMALL TO
HUNT."

Art by: Svetlin Velinov

"WE CAN HUNT!" NICOL CLAWED ANGRILY AT THE DIRT, THEN ADDED, "BETTER THAN YOU
CAN, ONCE WE LEARN HOW."

SHE SNATCHED UP THE BEAST'S CHARRED CORPSE AND FLUNG IT AT US WITH A VIOLENT LAUGH.
NICOL LEAPT SIDEWAYS, STARTLED, BUT I REMAINED CROUCHED WHERE I WAS SINCE I COULD
SEE THE THROW WOULD MISS ME, AS INDEED IT DID. ITS WEIGHT SMACKED INTO THE EARTH,
SPATTERING US WITH FLUIDS.

"THERE, YOU CAN HAVE MY LEAVINGS. THIS ONE'S FLESH IS TOUGH AND DRY. I MEAN TO KILL A
TASTIER ONE FOR MY OWN SUPPER."

SHE OPENED HER MAGNIFICENT WINGS AND LEAPT INTO THE SKY. THE FORCE OF HER
WINGBEATS FLATTENED US LIKE STORM WINDS, AND THEN SHE WAS GONE, CASTING AFTER THE
FLEEING HERD. I SNIFFED AT THE DEAD ANIMAL, SEEKING FROM WHAT LINGERED OF ITS SPIRIT
SOME INDICATION OF ITS NAME AND SUBSTANCE: IT WAS AN IBEX, OLD FOR ITS KIND; IT HAD
HAD A PEACEFUL LIFE, AND THAT GAVE ITS BLOOD AND MEAT A CERTAIN PLEASING ODOR.

I TORE OFF A HUNK OF FLESH. IT WAS PLEASURABLE TO EAT, EVEN IF A LITTLE TOUGH. "COME
TRY THIS."

"I WON'T TAKE ANYONE ELSE'S LEAVINGS." NICOL SAT BACK ON HIS TAIL, STRETCHING TO SEE
HOW HIGH HE COULD REACH. "WE'RE NOT THAT SMALL. WE'RE BIGGER THAN ANY OF THE
BEASTS THAT ROAM THIS LAND. ARE YOU COMING WITH ME?"

IT SEEMED WASTEFUL TO LEAVE THE DEAD BEAST, BUT AS I CONSIDERED THE COOLING FLESH,
INSECTS SETTLED UPON ITS SKIN TO BURROW AND SMALL CARNIVORES CREPT CLOSER, HALTING
AT A SAFE DISTANCE, WAITING FOR US TO LEAVE. OTHER CREATURES HAD ALSO BEGUN THE
WORK OF DEVOURING THE DEAD FLESH, ALTHOUGH THEY WERE SO SMALL AS TO BE INVISIBLE
TO THE NAKED EYE. THAT WHICH DECAYS IS ALSO BEING CONSUMED.

THE REVELATION SWEPT OVER ME LIKE A STORM'S HOT RUSH: WITHIN THE INVISIBLE WEB THAT
IS LIFE AND DEATH, NOTHING GOES TO WASTE.

"DEATH IS MERELY PART OF A GREATER CYCLE," I SAID, QUITE STRUCK BY MY AMAZING

WISDOM.

"I WANT TO KILL SOMETHING," SAID NICOL. "ARE YOU COMING?"

IT WAS THE SECOND TIME HE'D ASKED IF I WAS COMING WITH HIM. TO BE FAIR, WE'D NEVER
BEEN APART, HAD NEVER WALKED OR FLOWN THE SLIGHTEST SPAN WITHOUT THE OTHER
WITHIN EARSHOT. I COULDN'T IMAGINE BEING IN THE WORLD WITHOUT HIM BESIDE ME.

"YES. LET'S LEARN HOW TO HUNT TOGETHER."

DRAGONS ARE NATURAL HUNTERS. IT'S WHAT WE ARE BORN FOR: HUNTING AND NAMING AND
HOARDING KNOWLEDGE. BUT EVEN SO, THE IBEXES AND GAZELLES OF THE PLAIN WERE FLEET
OF FOOT AND CUNNING IN THE WAYS OF AVOIDING BEING POUNCED UPON. THEY HAD MORE
PRACTICE AT ESCAPING THAN WE DID AT CATCHING.

ONCE PALLADIA-MORS GLIDED PAST JUST AS WE HAD AT LAST SUCCESSFULLY CORNERED A

SMALL GAZELLE. WITH MOCKING EASE, SHE SNATCHED UP THE ANIMAL BEFORE OUR CLAWS
CLOSED ON IT. WITH A TAUNTING ROAR, SHE FLEW AWAY WITH IT IN HER CLUTCHES. NICOL
WANTED TO CHASE HER, BUT I CLOSED MY MOUTH ON HIS TAIL AND HELD HIM THRASHING
BACK UNTIL HE CALMED ENOUGH TO LISTEN.

"SHE WINS IF SHE ANGERS US. DO YOU WANT HER TO WIN?"

HE COUGHED OUT A TRICKLE OF SOOTY SMOKE FROM THE DEPTHS OF HIS FRUSTRATION, BUT
AFTER THAT, WE TOOK CARE TO FLY FAR FROM OUR OLDER SISTER 'S HUNTING GROUNDS SO SHE
WOULDN'T BE BOTHERED TO PLAGUE US.
"IT'S IN HER NATURE TO HUNT AND THINK OF NOTHING ELSE," I SAID. "BUT WE AREN'T LIKE
HER. WE CAN THINK OF MORE THINGS THAN JUST HUNTING. HUNTING IS WHAT WE DO TO FEED
OURSELVES, NOT HOW WE LIVE IN THE WORLD."

YET BY THE TIME WE FINALLY DRAGGED DOWN A LAGGING ANIMAL TOO WEAK TO OUTRUN OUR
PITIABLE ATTEMPTS AT CATCHING IT, I WAS EXHAUSTED AND NICOL WAS SO FRUSTRATED THAT
HE TORE THE LIMBS RIGHT OFF THE CREATURE, GULPED THEM DOWN TOO FAST, AND COUGHED
THEM UP AGAIN.

"THOSE HUNTERS SHOULDN'T HAVE BEEN ABLE TO KILL OUR SISTER," HE SAID WHEN HE COULD
SPEAK.

"MAY I EAT IN PEACE WITHOUT YOUR OBSESSION RUINING MY MEAL?" I ASKED, WEARILY
CHEWING ON A STRIP OF FLANK MEAT.

"THE HUNTERS WORKED TOGETHER. IF WE LEARN TO WORK TOGETHER, THEN WE CAN HUNT
BETTER THAN PALLADIA-MORS."

I ATE THOUGHTFULLY, CONSIDERING HIS WORDS. IT WAS TRUE WE HAD HUNTED IN THE
MANNER OF OUR OLDER SISTER, EACH HUNTING ALONE, RELYING ON OUR INDIVIDUAL SPEED
AND STRENGTH. WHAT IF THERE WAS A BETTER WAY?

WE CLEANED OURSELVES OFF IN A HOT SANDBANK AND NAPPED IN THE AFTERNOON SUN.
AFTER THIS PLEASANT SOJOURN, NICOL FORGOT HIS FRUSTRATION AND WAS EAGER TO SET TO
WORK. WE SPENT YEARS, AS YOU JESKAI WOULD MEASURE THE SPAN OF DAYS, PERFECTING
VARIOUS TECHNIQUES FOR HUNTING IN TANDEM. EVENTUALLY WE WERE EASILY ABLE TO
CATCH THE JUICIEST AND HEALTHIEST SPECIMEN OUT OF ANY HERD, NO MATTER HOW FLEET
AND CANNY THE ANIMALS WERE.

BY THIS TIME, WE HAD EXPLORED INTO NEW TERRITORY. SEVERAL TIMES WE WERE CHASED BY
A BIG UGLY DRAGON NAMED VAEVICTIS ASMADI WHO, WITH HIS SIBLINGS, FURIOUSLY
GUARDED A TERRITORY THEY CLAIMED FOR THEIR OWN HUNTING GROUNDS EVEN THOUGH IT
HAD PLENTY OF SPACE AND GAME ENOUGH FOR MANY HUNTERS TO CULL. SO, WE EXPLORED
FARTHER AFIELD, FOR TO US, IT SEEMED THE LAND WAS VAST AND THE OCEAN THAT GIRDLED IT
AN INSURMOUNTABLE BARRIER. WE WERE SO YOUNG AND IGNORANT IN THOSE DAYS.
 Art by: Steven Belledin

ONE DAY, WE SETTLED ON A HILL AMID A RICHLY FORESTED PLAIN. FROM THIS VANTAGE, WE
FOUND OURSELVES LOOKING OVER A RIVERSIDE SETTLEMENT INHABITED BY THE BIPEDS
CALLED HUMANS. IN GENERAL, WE AVOIDED HUMANS. THEY DIDN'T TASTE GOOD, AND I DIDN'T
LIKE EATING THINGS THAT COULD TALK.

THE SETTLEMENT WAS RINGED BY A WALL CONSTRUCTED OF WOOD BEAMS SEWN TOGETHER
WITH STONE CLADDING, THE SPACES BETWEEN THE INTERLOCKING BEAMS PACKED WITH
EARTH. WE HAD OBSERVED OTHER SUCH SETTLEMENTS WHERE THESE SMALL, FRAIL
CREATURES PROTECTED THEMSELVES BY FLOCKING IN NUMBERS. THIS WAS BY FAR THE
LARGEST, WITH THE GREATEST VARIETY OF STRUCTURES AND THE MOST HUMANS CRAMMED
INSIDE ITS INSALUBRIOUS CONFINES. IN SHORT, ONE COULD SMELL IT FROM A GREAT DISTANCE.

TO OUR SURPRISE OUR SIBLING ARCADES SABBOTH HAD TAKEN UP RESIDENCE INSIDE THE
GREAT RING WALL. A SPACIOUS COURTYARD FRONTED A VERY LARGE BUILDING CONSTRUCTED
OF WOOD WITH A HIGH-PEAKED THATCHED ROOF. IN A COURTYARD LADEN WITH FLAT RIVER-
STONES, HE RESTED AT HIS EASE. BRONZE SHIELDS DECORATED WITH SPIRALS FLANKED HIM ON
EITHER SIDE, SO POLISHED THAT ANY PERSON WHO APPROACHED WOULD BE REFLECTED IN
THEIR SHINE. BEFORE HIM, PLANTED IN A BRONZE VASE FILLED WITH AGATES, ROSE A SLENDER
TREE WITH A THIN TRUNK CARVED FROM IVORY AND LEAVES FASHIONED FROM GOLD.

PEOPLE WEARING SILVER AND GOLD BRACELETS AND BROOCHES ATTENDED HIM. SOME WERE
SCRIBES SEATED CROSS-LEGGED ON MATS, BRUSHING LETTERS ONTO BARKCLOTH. HUMBLY
DRESSED SUPPLICANTS KNELT BY THE TREE WITH HEADS BOWED, AWAITING A JUDGMENT.

I WANTED TO OBSERVE THE SCENE FOR A WHILE, FOR IT QUITE ASTONISHED ME TO SEE A
DRAGON INTERACTING WITH HUMANS IN SUCH AN INTIMATE WAY. BUT NICOL WAS IMPATIENT,
EAGER TO MEET THIS GLEAMING SIBLING WHOSE SCALES WERE A BLINDING WHITE UNDER THE
SUN AND WHO PRESIDED OVER THE HUMANS WITH SUCH ASSURANCE.

"I DIDN'T REALIZE HUMANS WOULD TRUST DRAGONS," HE SAID.

SINCE THE HUMANS MOVED AROUND OUR BROTHER WITHOUT FEAR, WE APPROACHED OPENLY.
YET WHEN WE CAME WITHIN SIGHT OF THE CULTIVATED FIELDS SURROUNDING THE TOWN,
PEOPLE RAN FOR THE WALLS. HORNS BLARED AS WARNING. ARCHERS TOOK UP POSITIONS
ALONG THE WALL WALK. NO SOONER HAD WE COME WITHIN RANGE THAN VOLLEYS OF ARROWS
SPED UPWARD, AIMING FOR OUR BELLIES. A FEW ARROWS MET THEIR TARGET. THEIR TOUCH ON
MY THICK SCALES WAS LITTLE MORE THAN A PRICKLING SENSATION, MORE ANNOYING THAN
DANGEROUS, YET A VIVID MEMORY OF MY SISTER'S DEATH FLARED IN MY THOUGHTS AND
CHOKED ANGER INTO MY CHEST.

NICOL SOARED UP TO HANG IN THE SKY FOR A MOMENT, STRETCHED OUT AS HE LIKED TO DO TO
MAKE HIMSELF SEEM LARGER. HIS CURVING HORNS CAUGHT THE SUNLIGHT AND FLASHED.
THEN HE TWISTED IN A GRACEFUL SPIN AND SWOOPED INTO A DIVE. HIS BLAST OF FIRE BREATH
SCORCHED ALONG THE HIGHEST TOWER AND ITS ADJOINING WALL WALK. HAPLESS SOLDIERS
SCREAMED AND FELL AS THE FIRE BURNED THEM.

A HUGE BODY SLAMMED INTO NICOL, SENDING HIM TUMBLING THROUGH THE AIR. HE BARELY
FLAPPED HIS WINGS ENOUGH TO KEEP ALOFT AS OUR OLDER BROTHER, ARCADES, CIRCLED
BACK AROUND FOR ANOTHER ATTACK. I SPED BETWEEN THEM, CALLING OUT.

"BROTHER! WE MEAN NO HARM. WE WANT ONLY TO TALK TO YOU."

I GUIDED A FURIOUS, BRUISED, AND BATTERED NICOL BACK TO THE HILL FROM WHICH WE'D
FIRST SEEN THE TOWN. WE LANDED ON ITS GRASSY KNOLL. DEATH WAS NO LONGER A
STRANGER TO ME, FOR WE HAD KILLED OUR SHARE OF PREY, BUT THE SCREAMS OF THE DYING
SOLDIERS TROUBLED ME IN A WAY THAT THE LAST MOMENTS OF THE ANIMALS WE'D HUNTED
HAD NOT. NICOL WAS BLEEDING FROM THE SCRATCH OF ARCADE'S CLAWS ALONG HIS FLANK.
HE WAS SNORTING, STAMPING, HUFFING.

I SAID, "HERE HE COMES!"

ARCADES LANDED, WINGS SPREAD WIDE. HIS GLARE WAS AS BRIGHT AS THE SUN AND HIS
CLAWS WERE OUT.

BEFORE NICOL COULD SPEAK I SAID, "FORGIVE US, BROTHER. WE THOUGHT THE CREATURES
WERE ACCUSTOMED TO DRAGONS."

IT IS IN THE NATURE OF DRAGONS TO KNOW THEIR OWN.

"YOU ARE THE TWINS, NICOL AND UGIN."

"I AM NICOL BOLAS," SAID NICOL.

"YOU ARE?" I ASKED. "WHEN DID THAT HAPPEN?"

"I HAVE TWO NAMES. ALL PROPER DRAGONS HAVE TWO NAMES."
"UGIN IS FINE FOR ME," I SAID, DISMISSING THIS AS ANOTHER OF NICOL'S QUICKSILVER MOOD
CHANGES. I TURNED POLITELY BACK TO OUR OLDER BROTHER. "BROTHER ARCADES, WHY DID
THE HUMANS ATTACK US WHEN WE APPROACHED?"

UNLIKE OUR ROARING SISTER, ARCADES SPOKE IN A MEASURED, RESONANT VOICE, DEEP AND
SOOTHING. "MY SUBJECTS THOUGHT YOU WERE ATTACKING THEM."

"WHY WOULD THEY THINK THAT?" I ASKED.

"WE ARE NOT THE ONLY DRAGONS IN THE WORLD."

"WE KNOW THAT," SAID NICOL. "THERE IS PALLADIA-MORS, AND CHROMIUM RHUELL. WE'VE
MET THEM BOTH."

"AND VAEVICTIS'S MOB. THEY'RE QUITE THE GANG OF MARAUDERS. AND MORE BESIDES THEM,
SOME FLYING ALONE AND SOME FLOCKING TOGETHER. I PROTECT THE HUMANS FROM THE
OTHER DRAGONS WHO ROAM THIS LAND. BUT I AM ALSO TEACHING THE HUMANS TO A BETTER
PATH OF LIFE, ONE RULED NOT JUST BY THEIR OWN PRIMITIVE, VIOLENT TENDENCIES."

"WHY DO YOU CARE ABOUT THE HUMANS?" NICOL ASKED. "THEY KILLED ONE OF OUR SISTERS,
WHEN WE FIRST FELL."

ARCADES SHIFTED HIS WINGS IN A SIGN OF ACCEPTANCE. "THIS STRUGGLE IS THE WAY OF LIFE
AND DEATH, IS IT NOT? HUMANS HAVE A RIGHT TO LIVE, JUST AS WE DO."

NICOL FLEXED HIS CLAWS BUT SAID NOTHING, AND I COULD SEE THAT THE EFFORT COST HIM.
BUT MAYBE HE WAS LEARNING TO CALM DOWN AND THINK MORE.

ARCADES DID NOT KNOW NICOL AS I DID AND SO HE KEPT TALKING, HAVING MISSED NICOL'S
FLASH OF ANGER. "HUMANS ARE INTERESTING CREATURES. UNLIKE OUR KIND, THEY WORK
TOGETHER. DO YOU WANT TO COME SEE? YOU MAY VISIT FOR A LITTLE WHILE AS MY HONORED
GUESTS, AS LONG AS YOU FOLLOW THE RULES OF LAW AND ORDER I HAVE ESTABLISHED IN THIS
COLONY."

NICOL LOOKED AT ME. "I'D LIKE THAT," HE SAID IN A COOL, FLAT TONE.

I WAS PLEASED TO HEAR HIM BE SO REASONABLE. I THOUGHT I KNEW HIM DOWN TO HIS BONES,
BUT I DID NOT YET KNOW WHAT HE WAS CAPABLE OF.

SO, IT WAS THEN THAT WE ACCOMPANIED ARCADES BACK TO THE TOWN. HE MADE US KNOWN
TO THE PEOPLE THERE, AND THEY GREETED US WITH AWE AND RESPECT, ALTHOUGH, PERHAPS
NOT QUITE AS MUCH AWE AND RESPECT AS THEY SHOWED TO ARCADES, WHOM THEY CALLED
"DRAGONLORD."
 Art by: Even Amundsen

THERE WE SOJOURNED FOR YEARS. WE WATCHED AS THE HUMANS ENCLOSED MORE TERRITORY
WITH MORE WALLS, AS PEOPLE WERE BORN IN INCREASING NUMBERS AND BUILT MORE HOUSES
AND CLEARED MORE FIELDS, AS TRADE ENVOYS CAME FROM DISTANT TOWNS TO THE GROWING
CITY. I POKED MY SNOUT INTO EVERYTHING, AND MADE PARTICULAR FRIENDS WITH AN OLD
HOLY ELDER NAMED TE JU KI, WHOSE SOLE PURPOSE IN LIFE, IT SEEMED, WAS TO THINK ABOUT
THINGS THAT COULD NOT BE SEEN. SHE LIVED ALONE IN A ROUND CHAMBER WHOSE WALLS
WERE MADE OF STONE SLABS. LIKE THE STONE, SHE WAS TOUGH AND DRY. THOUGH SHE WAS
WITHERED OF LIMB AND FRAIL OF BODY, HER MIND WAS AS SHARP AS OBSIDIAN.

NICOL HAD NO PATIENCE FOR HER POSSESSIONLESS WAY OF BEING IN THE WORLD; HE WANTED
TO BE WHERE ARCADES WAS, GUIDING AND ADVISING THE PEOPLE. NICOL MADE HIMSELF
USEFUL IN A HUNDRED WAYS, DIGGING INTO EVERY CREVICE OF HUMAN LIFE AND EMOTION.
BUT THE GREED AND EXCITEMENT AND ANXIETY AND COMPETITIVENESS OF HUMANS TIRED ME
WHEN I WAS AROUND IT TOO MUCH, SO THE SOLITUDE OF TE JU KI'S WAY ATTRACTED ME. I
SOAKED UP THE CALM WISDOM SHE EXUDED.

ENTIRE DAYS WOULD PASS IN SILENCE AS SHE AND I SAT IN HER CIRCULAR CHAMBER. ITS ROOF
HAD LONG SINCE FALLEN IN, AND SHE INFORMED ME ONCE THAT THE HALF-COLLAPSED TOWER
WAS AN ARTIFACT OF BUILDERS WHO HAD BIDED HERE BEFORE THE PEOPLE WHO NOW LIVED IN
THIS PLACE.

"WE ARE NOT THE FIRST, AND WE WILL NOT BE THE LAST," SHE SAID. "WE SEE ONLY OUR HAND
BEFORE OUR FACE, BUT THERE HAVE BEEN OTHER HANDS HERE BEFORE OURS, AND THERE WILL
COME OTHERS AFTER US. EVEN THIS WORLD IS BUT ONE LAYER AMID MANY OTHERS."

SHE KNEW MANY SCHEMES AS AN AID TO MEDITATION, BUT I BEST LIKED IT WHEN SHE SPUN
GLOBES OF LIGHT IN THE AIR. TRANSLUCENT THREADS OF MAGIC TETHERED EACH OF THE
GLOBES TO THE OTHERS SO THAT, AS THEY WHIRLED IN THE AIR, THEY REMAINED BOTH
SEPARATE AND YET LINKED BY CONNECTIONS TOO MYSTERIOUS FOR ME TO COMPREHEND. SHE
CALLED EACH ONE A "PLANE," ALTHOUGH I DID NOT KNOW WHAT SHE MEANT BY THE WORD AT
THAT TIME. WHEN I ASKED IF THE GLOBES WERE A THOUGHT EXPERIMENT OR IF THEY REALLY
EXISTED, SHE SAID IT DID NOT MATTER BECAUSE NO PHYSICAL BEING COULD CROSS BETWEEN
PLANES. BUT I DIDN'T CARE ABOUT THAT. THE WAY THE RADIANT GLOBES INTERLOCKED AND
MOVED IN AND AROUND EACH OTHER FASCINATED ME AS MUCH AS THE WISDOM SHE UTTERED
IN HER WHISPERY RASP OF A VOICE.

"EVERYTHING THAT LIVES IS INTERWOVEN. EVERYTHING THAT DIES IS CONSUMED BY

SOMETHING ELSE, BY ANOTHER ANIMAL OR BY DECAY. IN THIS ROT LIES THE KERNEL OF NEW
LIFE, FOR IT PASSES BACK INTO THE WORLD AS SEEDS TAKE ROOT AND GROW. THERE IS NO END,
JUST ENDLESS CYCLES OF TRANSFORMATION."

"YOU WILL DIE SOMEDAY."

"YES."

"DOESN'T THAT SCARE YOU?"

"MY ESSENCE WILL CONTINUE TO EXIST IN OTHER FORMS. SHARDS OF MY BEING WILL
TRANSFORM INTO NEW AND REMARKABLE ENTITIES WITH THEIR OWN JOURNEYS TO MAKE. HOW
IS THIS FRIGHTENING?"

"IT SEEMS FRIGHTENING TO ME. DO DRAGONS DIE?"

"ALL THINGS END. SOMETIMES THAT IS NOT THE SAME AS DYING. DO YOU WISH ME TO TEACH
YOU HOW TO CREATE THE GLOBES AND SPIN THEM ? IT IS AN EXERCISE TO CALM THE MIND."

I DID WISH IT. OH, I DID. BUT IT WAS A HARD TASK, AND I WAS NOT A QUICK STUDY.

ONE DAY AS I WAS SITTING IN THE SUN MANIFESTING A SINGLE GLOBE OF LIGHT ABOVE MY
LEFT FORELEG, QUITE OVERWEENINGLY PROUD OF MY TINY ACCOMPLISHMENT, THERE CAME A
TERRIBLE TUMULT OF SCREAMS AND SHOUTS FROM THE DIRECTION OF THE PALACE
STOREROOMS. UNDER THE REIGN OF ARCADES SABBOTH, THE REALM DWELT IN PEACE AND
ORDER, SO THE CRIES OF FEAR AND RAGGED AGONY CUT WITH BRUTAL INTENSITY INTO THE
QUIET AFTERNOON.

MY SCALES PRICKLED AS IF ASSAULTED BY A HUNDRED ARROWS—NOTHING THAT COULD

PIERCE ME BUT ONLY ALARM ME. SOMETHING WAS UP. SOMETHING BAD.

THE GLOBE DISSOLVED WITH A POP THAT TURNED INTO A CLOUD OF LIGHTS DISPERSED BY A
GUST OF WIND. IN HASTE, I MADE MY WAY TO THE COURTYARD FRONTING THE STOREROOMS, A
PLACE WHERE CARTS AND WAGONS AND PACK HORSES COULD UNLOAD AND TAKE ON CARGO.
BLOOD SPATTERED THE COBBLESTONED COURTYARD. A MAN WAS ON HIS KNEES ON THE
STONES. A BLOODY KNIFE STUCK INTO THE CHEST OF ANOTHER MAN TOLD THE GRUESOME TALE
OF A VIOLENT MURDER. PALACE GUARDS SURROUNDED THE KILLER WHO STARED AT HIS
BLOODY HANDS IN BEWILDERMENT.

"BUT HE'S MY BROTHER. HOW DID THIS HAPPEN? WHO STABBED HIM?"
WITNESSES CROWDED FORWARD. "YOU TURNED ON HIM. YOU SHOUTED AT HIM THAT HE WAS
STEALING YOUR BIRTHRIGHT AND MEANT TO CHEAT YOU. THEN YOU PULLED THE KNIFE AND
STABBED HIM."

HIS VOICE WAS BREATHLESS AND LOST. "BUT THAT DISPUTE BETWEEN US WAS ALL SETTLED
YEARS AGO WHEN OUR PARENTS GAVE THE CARTING BUSINESS TO US TO RUN TOGETHER . . . "
HE SHOOK HIS HEAD REPEATEDLY AS IF TRYING TO SHAKE LOOSE A NOXIOUS WORM THAT HAD
BURROWED INSIDE HIM. "WE NEVER FOUGHT AFTER THAT, NOT ONE DAY."

THE WORDS FELL HOLLOWLY, GIVEN THE EVIDENCE.

Murder | Art by: Tyler Jacobson

THE GUARDS TOOK HIM AWAY. AS A STEWARD DIRECTED THE BODY BE REMOVED AND THE
BLOOD WASHED OFF THE STONES, I RAISED MY EYES TO THE ROOF OF ONE OF THE NEARBY
BUILDINGS. NICOL LOUNGED THERE, STRETCHED ALONG THE RIDGELINE, WATCHING THE SCENE
WITH AN AVID GAZE.

"WHAT DID YOU DO?" I DEMANDED IN DRAGON SPEECH.

"WHAT DID I DO? I HAVE NOT MOVED FROM HERE."

"YOU STOOD BY AND LET IT HAPPEN? YOU COULD HAVE INTERVENED."

A SMIRK OF SATISFACTION CREASED HIS VISAGE. "WHAT IF I DID?"

THE PRICKLING SENSATION INTENSIFIED. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN? WHAT DID YOU DO, NICOL?"

"I HAVE DISCOVERED A BETTER WAY TO GET REVENGE. ARE YOU COMING OR ARE YOU GOING
TO STAY WITH YOUR MEALY-MOUTHED SAGE AND HER BLAND TIDBITS OF WISDOM?"

"COMING WHERE?"

"I AM GOING TO AVENGE OUR SISTER, AS WE SHOULD HAVE DONE LONG AGO."
HE OPENED HIS WINGS AND, WITHOUT EVEN MAKING PROPER FAREWELLS TO OUR BROTHER,
FLEW OFF SO QUICKLY THAT HE WAS OUT OF MY SIGHT BEFORE I TRULY REALIZED HE MEANT TO
LEAVE ALL THIS BEHIND. I HASTENED TO FIND OUR BROTHER.

"A MAGISTRATE WILL HEAR THE CASE AND RENDER A RULING. IT WON'T EVEN BE BROUGHT TO
MY ATTENTION. NO NEED TO CONCERN YOURSELF WITH IT, UGIN. YOU CAN GO BACK TO YOUR
STUDIES." HE SAID WHEN I FOUND HIM.

"BUT DON'T YOU FIND IT STRANGE THAT THE TWO BROTHERS WORKED TOGETHER IN PEACE FOR
YEARS AND THEN THIS SUDDENLY HAPPENED?"

"HUMANS HAVE THESE TROUBLES," HE EXPLAINED TENDENTIOUSLY TO ME. "THEY KEEP THEIR
EMOTIONS WEIGHTED DOWN FOR YEARS, AND THEN A SPARK IGNITES, AND THEY EXPLODE. IT
HAS HAPPENED BEFORE, AND IT WILL HAPPEN AGAIN."

BUT MY HEART REMAINED TROUBLED.

"WHAT DO YOU FEAR?" TE JU KI ASKED ME AT DUSK, WHEN I RETURNED TO HER OPEN-ROOFED

CHAMBER.

"I DON'T KNOW. BUT MY HEART WILL NOT REST."

"YOU CANNOT CONTINUE YOUR STUDIES IN THIS STATE, UGIN. I'M SORRY. PERHAPS YOU NEED
SOME TIME AWAY."

I KEPT THINKING OF NICOL, FLYING OFF. I AM GOING TO AVENGE OUR SISTER.

"I KNOW WHERE HE'S GOING. I MUST FOLLOW HIM."

"YOUR JOURNEY IS YOUR PATH TO WALK, UGIN. MAY YOU FIND WHAT YOU SEEK."

I DIDN'T WANT TO LEAVE, BUT I HAD TO FOLLOW. SOMETHING MOMENTOUS HAD HAPPENED. IT
MADE ME THINK OF STANDING IN A DRY STREAM BED IN A DESERT WHEN A CLOUDBURST
DARKENS THE DISTANT HILLS. THE FLOODWATERS ARE COMING EVEN IF YOU CAN'T SEE THEM
YET.

"Down! Take cover!" cried Fec. "It stalked him through the grass!"

A loud rustling like the sound of rainfall swept over them, though the sky remained clear. The
vultures launched into the sky in a frantic rush of wings.

A shadow fell across them as a dragon's head and sinuous neck rose from behind the
outcropping. It was a stunningly beautiful creature, scales a pale gray-white with a hint of
blue. A dark blue crest rose from the center of its head between two long, elegant horns. Its
gaze marked them, each one, and dismissed them, each one, with a gleam of intelligence
nothing like the brute hunger of Atarka's antlered broodlings. Then it saw the young man still
seated on the ground. The creature hissed, threads of a cold, misty haze leaking from its
nostrils.

Cunning Breezedancer | Art by: Todd Lockwood

Tae Jin jumped to his feet, pressing his forearms together in a gesture of supplication. Was it
after all a trap? Had he delivered up Grandmother to one of Ojutai's broodlings?

A large bird flew up from behind the dragon and landed on the outcropping. It was no bird
but an aven, wearing an elaborate vest that hung almost to its taloned feet. Its head was
capped by a crest and long horns similar to those of the dragon it served.

When the broodling spoke in a crackling rumble of draconic, the aven translated.

"Tae Jin, by the command of the Great Teacher, you are accused of the crime of sacrilege and
sentenced to die by ice. It will be my pleasure and honor to kill you."

CHRONICLE OF BOLAS: THINGS

UNSEEN
Naiva had grown up under the rule of Dragonlord Atarka. Her entire life she had watched her
grandmother, Yasova, once known as Dragonclaw of the Temur clan, dutifully deliver meat
to the gathering place at Ayagor so Atarka could feast. "To keep the people alive, we will
feed the dragon," Grandmother said every year when a few of the elder hunters grumbled
about losing the old ways. Yet every year, fewer recalled the days before the fall of the khans,
and thus fewer complained, and of course to the young ones like Naiva, the rule of Atarka
was all they had ever known.
So when she stood trapped in a ring of boulders with Grandmother and Baishya on one side
and on the other a handsome young wanderer who had brought a dragon's wrath down on
them, she knew what Grandmother would do. The once-mighty Yasova Dragonclaw would
give way to the Ojutai dragon broodling that loomed above them, demanding to kill the
renegade warrior.

It shouldn't be this way! As she sucked in a harsh breath, she wished she had fire as dragons
had fire so she could scald the great beast and turn it to ash. She wished she could strike even
if it meant her own death. Wasn't it better to fight than to give way again and again until your
soul was crushed and you denied your own name?

The dragon opened its maw as a warning to drive the rest of them back. Cold radiated from
deep within its massive body, ready to freeze any creature that stood in its path.

Grandmother caught Naiva's eye. Here it came: she would give the hand gesture to retreat;
she would leave the stranger to meet his destiny, in death.

Keeping her hand hidden from the aven on the rock, Grandmother gestured Kill.

As the dragon reared back its head to strike at Tae Jin, Baishya stretched out her arms toward
the earth, a warm greenish light gathering in her hands and flowing into the soil. The dragon's
stinging breath blasted toward Tae Jin. Impossibly, a boulder rolled sideways into the path of
its breath. A thick crust made of the dragon's icy breath crackled around the rock, solidifying
before it reached Tae Jin.

An arrow flashed overhead to cut through one of the wings of the aven. As the aven
staggered, croaking in pain, Naiva threw her spear. The obsidian point cut through the aven's
handsome garment and straight into its feathered breast. Grandmother cast her own spear, and
the weapon struck the aven's head for the death blow.

The dragon roared, neck whipping from side to side as it raged. Tae Jin dodged between the
boulders. A second stream of its icy breath blasted into the open ground where he'd just been
standing.

Icefall Regent | Art by: David Gaillet

Naiva leaped sideways to push Grandmother into a narrow gap between two boulders. Blades
of grass froze and shattered at her heels. The backs of her legs went numb, but her felted
trousers gave her some protection. Looking back, she saw Baishya on her knees, doubled
over, exhausted and almost fainting from the effort of moving the rock. Fec shot a useless
arrow toward the dragon that bounced off its scaly hide, but it didn't even look his way. It
snaked its head down to smack into the boulder Baishya had moved and which she was now
sheltered behind. Naiva plucked her skinning knife from its sheath and raced back to her
twin, reaching her just as the dragon used a massive claw to shove the boulder aside as if it
were the merest pebble.

Its body looming above them filled all of her vision. She clasped Baishya to her. At least they
would die as they had been born: together.

A rumbling howl split the air. The Ojutai broodling reared back, twisting around as a red
dragon crowned with antlers—the very same broodling who had been following them—
swooped out of the sky and slammed into it. The two beasts went tumbling over the grass,
grappling and clawing. The weight of their battle shook the ground. Fire met ice in a flurry of
embers and glittering snowflakes.

Naiva heaved Baishya to her feet. "Can you walk?"

Baishya nodded, too breathless to speak. She leaned on Naiva, trembling, face pale.

"I didn't know you could do that!" Naiva exclaimed.

"I didn't either," Baishya whispered.

Grandmother appeared. "Retreat to the trees. Tae Jin!"

They raced toward the line of trees as the dragons rolled farther away. Naiva was grateful for
the tall grass now since it hid them. The roars and screeches of the battling dragons covered
the noise of their footsteps and their passage through the rustling grass. She had so many
questions but no time to ask. With Baishya still leaning heavily on her, she stumbled in under
the trees. Baishya let go and dropped to the ground, leaning against a trunk as she worked to
catch her breath.

By the pool, the hunters who'd stayed behind to fish had already thrown on their packs and
made ready to move, having heard the commotion.

A sentry crouched up in a tree called down: "It's flying off."

Naiva halted to look back. The Ojutai dragon slipped out of the claws of the Atarka broodling
and broke for the sky, but the broodling leaped up and caught one of its back legs with a
powerful swipe of a foreclaw, dragging the other dragon back down to earth. She felt the
impact of their conjoined bodies through the soles of her boots. Their shrieks and howls
thundered, and yet the titanic nature of the battle invigorated her. What would it be like to
have so much power surging through you? Was that what magic felt like for Baishya? Yet the
power had drained her sister too, and her very life was endangered just because she possessed
the shaman's gift.

Naiva left her to hurry over to where the others waited in a tight group. The hunters stared at
the young man, at the blood on his tunic and the shining tattoo on his exposed shoulder.

Fec said, "We must turn back. Ojutai's broodling won't dare follow us deep into Dragonlord
Atarka's territory."

"Their battle is not yet over," said Grandmother.

"Either way, we are exposed and vulnerable now that dragons are stalking us."

"Dragons are always stalking us. I must consider the circumstances that brought us here. The
vision of the windfolk. This young man's mission." She cast a look back toward the edge of
the trees where Baishya sat cross-legged on the ground, back to them, both hands pressed into
the dirt. "Give me silence to consider."

Tae Jin stood in repose, waiting for the elder to address him.

Naiva sidled up beside him.

"You almost died," she said in an undertone. Her own pulse was still racing as a hammering
in her ears. "How can you be so calm?"

He turned his dark gaze on her. "I will die one way or the other, whether now or later.
Discipline teaches us to accept what cannot be escaped."

"You would be dead if not for my grandmother's healing."

"That is true. I have heard of the healing powers of your people, and I am thankful for her
skill. But healing magic is known to all of the tribes." He paused, then said almost shyly,
"The rock saved me. I have not seen such a display of earth magic before. May I know your
name?"

"That wasn't me. That was my twin, Baishya." Even among the tribe, people often mistook
Naiva and her sister for each other. They'd played tricks with it when they were younger,
pretending to be the other one. Yet under his scrutiny, it annoyed her that he thought she was
someone else, someone whose power and skill he admired.

But then he smiled. "Ah. You are the one who threw the spear with such accuracy and
brought down the aven. May I know your name?"

Heat burned in her cheeks, but she did not look away. She wanted him to acknowledge her,
not just her twin. "I'm called Naiva."
"Enough!" Grandmother thumped the butt of her spear on the dirt. "When a vision offered by
the windfolk intersects with a wanderer bringing knowledge from the Jeskai, I cannot refuse
such portents. We will go on to Ugin's grave."

Naiva thought Fec would argue, but he merely bowed his head in acquiescence, as did the
other hunters. The First Mother had spoken, so it was settled.

By now the dragons had vanished from sight, although now and again a faint thunder marked
the direction of their battle. The party moved at a brisk pace, keeping under the leafy cover.
Should Atarka's broodling prove victorious and come to check on them, they still had the
excuse that they were hunting, but they ignored all signs of game: a trampled area where a
herd of wild krushok had come to drink; a broken mammoth tusk; saiga droppings. As
always, the hunters walked without speaking; Mattak, Oiyan, Darka, Rakhan, Sorya, and Fec
were Grandmother's most dependable companions, disciplined and skilled.

Naiva fell into step beside Tae Jin. She wanted to ask him about himself, but it seemed so
awkward to blurt out personal questions. Instead, hunting for a better opening, she recalled
the most puzzling aspect of the story he'd been telling.

"How can there be other worlds, as the old wise-woman in the story claims?"

"The planes, do you mean? I asked my master the same question. He did not know."

She looked back and saw Grandmother coming up behind them, closing the gap with her
confident stride.

"Grandmother, do you believe there are other worlds?"

Grandmother gave her a thoughtful look. "Has your sister said nothing to you about planes? I
thought she told you everything."

Naiva's chest grew tight. "You've talked about such matters with Baishya and never with
me?" she asked indignantly.

"There is a great deal of secret knowledge a shaman must know that other people never
learn." Without waiting for Naiva to reply, she turned to Tae Jin. "You did not finish Ugin's
story. We have quite a distance to walk, and no dragons in sight for the moment. Tell me
more about Ugin. And about Bolas."

As she spoke the name Bolas, her mouth settled into a grim line. She gave him an expectant
look.

The young man nodded obediently. By the pressure of his lips and the tightening of his eyes,
Naiva could tell he was re-ordering his thoughts, retreating from the ordinary conversation
he'd just had with her into his rote memorization of an ancient story.
 Student of Ojutai | Art by: Jason A. Engle

They walked in silence beneath the whispering trees.

Finally, he began to speak.

I DIDN'T WANT TO LEAVE, BUT I HAD TO FOLLOW. SOMETHING MOMENTOUS HAD HAPPENED. IT
MADE ME THINK OF STANDING IN A DRY STREAM BED IN A DESERT WHEN A CLOUDBURST
DARKENS THE DISTANT HILLS. THE FLOODWATERS ARE COMING EVEN IF YOU CAN'T SEE THEM
YET.

OVER THE YEARS OF OUR WANDERING, NICOL AND I HAD CROSSED MUCH OF THE CONTINENT AS
WE HUNTED AND EXPLORED. THE EXPANDING REALM OF OUR BROTHER ARCADES DWELT FAR
AWAY FROM THE MOUNTAIN OF OUR BIRTH. I HAD TO RETRACE OUR PATH, AND YET THE
STRANGEST AND MOST CHALLENGING PART WAS FLYING ALONE. THERE WAS NO NICOL BESIDE
ME TO TALK TO, TO HUNT WITH, TO NAP BESIDE DURING LONG DROWSY AFTERNOONS WHEN THE
SUN HEATED THE ITCH OFF OUR SCALES. SOLITUDE IS ALL VERY WELL AS A DISCIPLINE FOR
ENLIGHTENMENT, BUT EVEN IN AN ARCADES' SETTLEMENT, I HAD MEDITATED IN THE COMPANY
OF THE WISE ELDER TE JU KI. THROUGHOUT ALL THOSE DAYS AND WEEKS OF SILENCE I WAS
STILL ABLE TO HEAR THE SOUND OF ANOTHER LIVING CREATURE'S BREATHING ALONGSIDE
MINE.

NOT NOW. NOW I TREMBLED EACH NIGHT, HEARING ONLY MY OWN MUTTERS, MY SCUFFLING
AS I SCRATCHED A HOLLOW FOR MYSELF TO SLEEP, THE WHISPER OF MY HEART'S BEATING, THE
PASSAGE OF AIR IN AND OUT OF MY LUNGS. BUT SLOWLY AS I FLEW AND HUNTED MY WAY
BACK ACROSS THE WIDE, WILD LAND, I BEGAN TO HEAR HOW ALL THINGS BREATHE. EVEN
PLANTS BREATHE. ENFOLDED BY THE RESPIRATION OF THE WORLD, NO LIFE IS EVER ALONE;
EACH OF US IS EMBEDDED IN A VAST WEB, ONE ENTITY AMONG MYRIAD MYRIADS.

SOMETIMES THE DENSENESS OF THIS LIVING WEB COMFORTED ME. SOMETIMES THE SHEER
WEIGHT OF LIVING THINGS CROWDED ABOUT ME LIKE AN INCESSANT THUNDER THAT NEVER
CEASES. AT THOSE TIMES, LIFE'S JANGLING AND ROARING TROUBLED MY SPIRIT. SOMETIMES ITS
CLAMOR HUMBLED ME, FOR AMONG THESE TEEMING MULTITUDES, I WAS BUT A SINGLE
CREATURE WHOSE EXISTENCE COULD BE RUBBED OUT AND FORGOTTEN IN AN INSTANT. A
SAPLING OAK MAY BE CRUSHED BY THE STEPS OF PASSING AUROCHS, AND NO ONE WOULD BE
THE WISER. A HATCHLING CHICK MAY FALL FROM THE NEST AND BE LOST IN THE GRASS AS IF IT
HAD NEVER EXISTED. NOT THAT A DRAGON IS SO INSIGNIFICANT AS AN OAK OR A SPARROW, OR
SO I THOUGHT, NOT UNDERSTANDING THEN THAT EVEN THE SMALLEST, BRIEFEST LIFE HAS ITS
PLACE. THAT EVEN A DRAGON'S NAME MAY BE SWALLOWED BY THE PASSAGE OF TIME AND
VANISH INTO THE ABYSS OF OBLIVION.

THE WORLD IS WIDE, SO I DID NOT EXPECT TO CATCH UP TO MY TWIN, MUCH LESS RUN ACROSS
HIM BY HAPPENSTANCE AS I TRIED TO FOLLOW THE ROUTE WE HAD TAKEN TO GET HERE.
BECAUSE THAT ROUTE HAD AMBLED AND MEANDERED OVER SO MANY YEARS, WHILE I MUST
FLY STRAIGHT AND FAST IN PURSUIT, I HOPED ONLY TO DISCOVER HIM ONCE I REACHED OUR
BIRTH MOUNTAIN, FOR I WAS CERTAIN HE WAS HEADED THERE.

THUS, ONE DAY A RUMBLING NOISE STARTLED ME AS I GLIDED THROUGH A RUGGED PATCH OF
HILLS. SAD LITTLE OUTPOSTS OF HUMANITY HUDDLED BEHIND LOG PALISADES. FUR-CLAD
FARMERS LABORED WITH DIGGING STICKS AND BRONZE-BLADED MACHETES TO CLEAR GROUND
FOR CROPS. A HOWL OF LAUGHTER ECHOED DOWN A LONG VALLEY PATCHED WITH
RECTILINEAR FIELDS, FRAMED BY DRYSTONE WALLS TO KEEP LIVESTOCK AWAY FROM
GROWING GRAIN. BUT LOW STONE WALLS COULD NOT KEEP AWAY THE DEPREDATIONS OF
MARAUDING DRAGONS INTENT ON AMUSING THEMSELVES WITH DESTRUCTION.

ALTHOUGH I HAD NOT SEEN THEM FOR YEARS I RECOGNIZED VAEVICTIS ASMADI AND HIS
SIBLINGS AT ONCE BY THEIR FIERCE RED CRESTS AND THEIR AGGRESSIVE BEHAVIOR. AT FIRST, I
THOUGHT THEY WERE BURNING LONGHOUSES AND THATCHED-ROOF GRANARIES FOR CHEAP
PLEASURE, BUT THE DESTRUCTION VISITED UPON THE HAPLESS SETTLEMENTS WAS TANGENTIAL
TO THEIR MAIN PURPOSE. THEY WERE CHASING A DRAGON. THEIR QUARRY DOVE AND DIPPED
INTO ANY CREVICE AND VALLEY OFFERED BY THE ROLLING HILLS AS HE FLED, TRYING TO
ESCAPE THEM.

OF COURSE, I KNEW HIS SHAPE AND COLORING AT ONCE.

"NICOL!" I CRIED.

IF HE HEARD ME, HE GAVE NO SIGN, MERELY DISAPPEARED OVER THE RISE OF A HILL AND DOWN
BEHIND THE TREELINE. BUT MY SHOUT DREW THEIR ATTENTION TO ME.

WITH A ROAR, THE BIGGEST ONE, VAEVICTIS HIMSELF, CAME HURTLING TOWARD ME. HIS
OUTSPREAD WINGS BLOTTED OUT HALF THE SKY. HIS CLAWS DRIPPED WITH THE BLOOD OF
TORN LIVESTOCK.

I COULD NOT OUTRACE HIM. IN THAT INSTANT OF REALIZATION I FROZE. AN UPDRAFT CURLED
UNDER MY WINGS, KEEPING ME HOVERING ALOFT, OTHERWISE I WOULD HAVE CRASHED TO THE
GROUND AS MY VISION HAZED AND MY FIRE DWINDLED. DEATH FRIGHTENED ME AFTER ALL; I
HAD FAILED TE JU KI. THE SHAME OF MY FAILURE WAS A ROCK IN MY HEART, A LEADEN LUMP
DRAGGING ME TO THE DIRT.

YET NICOL NEEDED ME.

WHATEVER HAPPENED TO ME, I COULD NOT ALLOW HIM TO DIE.

SO, I REACHED INTO MY TINY ARSENAL OF MAGICAL TRICKS AND SPUN A PAIR OF
TRANSPARENT, FEATHER-LIGHT GLOBES OUT OF THE NEXUS OF COLORS AND INTO THE AIR.
WITH A HUFF, I BLEW THEM IN THE DIRECTION OF VAEVICTIS. THE SHINING ORBS STARTLED
HIM SO DEEPLY THAT HE TUMBLED, TAIL OVER HEAD, TRYING TO COME TO A HALT.
FRANTICALLY HE CALLED FOR HIS SIBLINGS, WHO WERE HEEDLESSLY BURNING UP AND DOWN
THE VALLEY AS HUMANS SCREAMED AND RAN.

Art by: Chris Rahn

OF COURSE, I SPED AFTER NICOL, ALTHOUGH I CHANCED ONE GLANCE OVER MY SHOULDER
JUST BEFORE THE VALLEY DROPPED OUT OF SIGHT. SPUN ON THE WIND, THE GLOBES WAFTED UP
AGAINST THE DREAD DRAGON'S GLEAMING SCALES AND GENTLY POPPED.

HIS STARTLED BELLOW OF FEAR SHATTERED THE AIR.

THEN I FLEW BEHIND A HILL AND COULD NO LONGER SEE HIM. RELIEF SHUDDERED THROUGH
ME. I HAD SURVIVED AFTER ALL.

OUT OF NOWHERE A LARGE BODY BRUSHED UP AGAINST MINE. MY CLAWS CAME OUT AS I
READIED MYSELF TO SWIPE AT THE ATTACKER.

"THAT WAS A FINE TRICK TO PLAY!" CHORTLED NICOL.

IT TOOK ME A MOMENT TO RECOVER MY VOICE, STUCK AS IT WAS LIKE A BONE IN MY THROAT.

"WHERE DID YOU COME FROM?" I RASPED OUT.

"I SAW YOU. DID YOU THINK I'D ABANDON YOU TO BE TORN APART BY OUR COUSINS? THEY'RE
HATEFUL CREATURES WHO HAVEN'T ONE BRAIN TO RUB BETWEEN THE FOUR OF THEM. I HOPE
THAT SNARLING BAG OF HOT WIND CHOKES ON HIS RAGE." HE LAUGHED SOFTLY AS WE FLEW
ON.

AFTER A LONG TIME, ONCE MY HEART HAD CEASED ITS GALLOPING MEASURE, I LAUGHED TOO,
THINKING OF HOW RIDICULOUS VAEVICTIS HAD LOOKED AS THE SHIMMERING GLOBES
HARMLESSLY DISSOLVED AGAINST THE HEAT OF HIS IMPERVIOUS SCALES.

"WHAT WERE THOSE GLOBES?" NICOL ASKED THAT NIGHT. WE HAD HALTED TO REST ON A
STONY HILLTOP OVERLOOKING A FORESTED PLAIN.

"THEY ARE A MAGIC THAT TE JU KI HAS BEEN TEACHING ME." I PAUSED, TRYING TO THINK OF A
WAY TO EXPLAIN WHAT SHE HAD BEEN TEACHING ME ABOUT PLANES AND WORLDS, BUT HE
MERELY SNORTED AND TALKED OVER ME.

"OH. THAT OLD HUMAN CREATURE. AREN'T YOU DONE WITH HER YET?"

"WHY WOULD I BE DONE WITH HER?"

"SHE'S HUMAN."

"SHE'S LIVED LONGER THAN WE HAVE. I THINK."

"NO HUMAN, HOWEVER OLD, CAN EVER BE AS WISE AS THE YOUNGEST DRAGON, FOR WE ARE
BORN WITH THE GREATEST DIGNITY, INTELLIGENCE, AND POWER OF ALL CREATURES." HE
LEANED CLOSER, HIS EYES GLEAMING WITH A DISQUIETING LIGHT WHOSE LIKE I HAD NEVER
BEFORE SEEN IN HIM. HIS TONE TEASED ME. "I LEARNED SOMETHING SPECIAL. DO YOU WANT
TO KNOW WHAT IT IS?"

I REFUSED TO SAY YES BECAUSE I REALLY DID NOT CARE FOR HIS PRIDEFUL, TAUNTING
MANNER.

"DON'T YOU WANT TO KNOW?" HE DEMANDED WITH A HUFF OF FLAME DIRECTED AT A

BLAMELESS TREE WHOSE UPPER BRANCHES PROMPTLY CAUGHT FIRE AND BURNED LIKE ONE OF
THE TORCHES USED TO LIGHT HUMAN SETTLEMENTS AT NIGHT.

"I DON'T THINK I LIKE THE WAY YOU TALK ABOUT HUMANS. SOME OF THEM ARE FOOLISH, IT'S
TRUE, AND SOME ARE ANGRY OR GREEDY OR SELFISH, BUT OTHERS ARE INTELLIGENT, WISE,
CARING CREATURES. ALTHOUGH I GRANT YOU THEY ARE SMALL AND WEAK AS INDIVIDUALS.
EASILY BROKEN."

"YES, INDEED, THEY ARE EASILY BROKEN," HE SAID WITH A RUMBLE OF DERISIVE LAUGHTER.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY THAT?"

"YOU SHALL SEE. AND I WILL REVEAL TO YOU MY SPECIAL LEARNING REGARDLESS, BECAUSE
WE ARE TWINS AND WE SHOULD SHARE EVERYTHING. DO YOU KNOW THE GREAT OCEAN WHOSE
WAVES BREAK UPON THE LAND?" HE LEANED CLOSER WITH A SMUG QUIRK OF HIS FIERCE
SNOUT. "THERE ARE OTHER LANDS THAT LIE BEYOND IT, AND EVEN MORE CREATURES WHO
LIVE IN THOSE OTHER LANDS."

"YES, I KNOW."

A FLASH OF IRE LIT IN HIS EYES THAT I HADN'T BEEN AMAZED BY HIS REVELATION.

I HAD MY PRIDE, TOO. MAYBE I HADN'T BEEN FOLLOWING AROUND ARCADES ALL THIS TIME, AS
HE HAD, STUDYING BEHAVIOR AND CUSTOMS AND LAWS AND WEAPONS, BUT EVERYTHING THAT
EXISTED INTRIGUED ME. THUS, WHEN I WAS NOT MEDITATING AND STUDYING MAGIC WITH TE
JU KI, I OBSERVED ALL THE DETAILS OF LIFE AROUND THE CENTRAL TOWN AND THE NEARBY
SETTLEMENTS THAT HAD FALLEN UNDER ITS SWAY, INCLUDING TWO SEASIDE PORTS.

Hinterland Harbor | Art by: Daniel Ljunggren

SO, I SAID, "SOME HAVE BUILT BOATS WITH SAILS FOR WINGS AND HAVE CROSSED THE WATERS
AND RETURNED TO TELL THE TALE. THE IDEA OF SAILS FOR WINGS IS QUITE INGENIOUS, DON'T
YOU THINK?"

"I AM SURE DRAGONS HAVE TAUGHT THEM EVERYTHING THEY KNOW, SINCE THERE ARE
DRAGONS ON THOSE OTHER LANDS TOO. ALTHOUGH I AM SURE THOSE DRAGONS ARE NOT
REALLY LIKE US AND OUR SIBLINGS. WE ARE THE FIRST, AFTER ALL, AND THUS THE MOST
POWERFUL."

"HOW DO YOU KNOW WE ARE FIRST? WE'VE NEVER SEEN THOSE OTHER LANDS AND THOSE
OTHER DRAGONS. THEY MIGHT HAVE FALLEN FROM OUR PROGENITOR'S WINGS BEFORE WE
DID."

"NO, ABSOLUTELY NOT."

BY WHICH I UNDERSTOOD HIM TO MEAN: HE DIDN'T WANT TO CONSIDER THAT MIGHT BE TRUE.

SOMETIMES IT JUST WASN'T WORTH ARGUING WITH NICOL. ANYWAY, I WAS SLEEPY.
THE NEXT DAY AS WE FLEW IN FINE WEATHER AND GREAT SPIRITS SIDE BY SIDE WITH EACH
OTHER, I DID NOT WANT TO DISTURB OUR AMITY. PERHAPS IF I HAD DELVED MORE DEEPLY, I
WOULD HAVE HAD WARNING OF WHAT WAS TO COME.

EVEN FAST AS WE FLEW, INTENT ON OUR GOAL, IT TOOK US DAYS AND DAYS TO RETRACE OUR
JOURNEY. OUR FIRST HINT THAT WE HAD INDEED REACHED OUR DESTINATION CAME IN THE
PRESENCE OF BOULDERS CUT WITH THE RAKE OF CLAWS IN A DOUBLE-CURVED QUARTER
CIRCLE. THESE WERE SET WITHIN DRAGON-SIGHT OF EACH OTHER AT THE EDGE OF A WIDE
PLAIN ON WHICH GRAZED TUMULTUOUS HERDS OF BISON, ANTELOPE, WATER BUFFALO, HORSES,
AND RED DEER.

"THESE ARE MARKERS TOO BIG FOR HUMANS TO HAVE MADE," I SAID.

"I'M HUNGRY," HE ANSWERED.

WORKING TOGETHER, WE EASILY KILLED FOUR PLUMP SPECIMENS AND SENT THE REST
SPEEDING AWAY. WE HAD BARELY SETTLED DOWN TO TEAR INTO OUR STILL-WARM FEAST
WHEN A DRAGON'S ROAR SHATTERED OUR PEACEFUL IDYLL. PALLADIA-MORS DOVE OUT OF
THE SKY, AND WE LEAPED BACK AS SHE LANDED WITH A GROUND-SHAKING THUMP.

"I THOUGHT YOU TWO WERE GONE FOR GOOD! THIS IS MY HUNTING TERRITORY NOW. ALL OF
IT."

NICOL WATCHED HER WARILY WHILE I ATTEMPTED TO CALM HER. "WE ARE JUST PASSING
THROUGH ON OUR WAY TO THE BIRTH MOUNTAIN."

"YOU DON'T WANT TO GO THERE," SHE SAID AS SHE CLAWED THE FOUR CORPSES OUT OF OUR
REACH.

"WHY NOT?"

"TOO MUCH TROUBLE. THOSE HUMANS HAVE GOTTEN ABOVE THEMSELVES AND THINK THEY
ARE DRAGON HUNTERS." SHE SNIFFED CAREFULLY AROUND THE DEAD ANIMALS, BLOOD
SMEARING HER MUZZLE, THEN GULPED DOWN AN ANTELOPE WITH A CRUNCH OF TEETH AND A
CONVULSIVE SWALLOW. SWINGING HER GAZE BACK TO US, SHE GROWLED WITH A RUMBLE
THAT SHOOK MY HORNS. SHE HAD A GIFT FOR PUFFING HERSELF UP TO SEEM TWICE AS LARGE
AND TEN TIMES AS FIERCE AS SHE ALREADY WAS. I HAD TO STRUGGLE NOT TO BACK AWAY
FROM HER, BUT I KNEW BETTER THAN TO GIVE ANY SIGN OF FEAR IN FRONT OF A VIOLENT
PREDATOR. "I'LL KILL THEIR LEADERS WHEN I FEEL LIKE IT, BUT NOT NOW. NOW I'M GOING TO
EAT THIS DELICIOUS BANQUET YOU'VE SO CONVENIENTLY HUNTED FOR ME."

NICOL LOOKED READY TO LUNGE AT HER AND FIGHT, BUT WITH A LASH OF MY TAIL, I GOT HIS
ATTENTION AND LURED HIM ASIDE.

"THE TWO OF US CAN TAKE HER TOGETHER," HE SAID. "WE'RE BIGGER NOW, ALMOST AS BIG AS
SHE IS."
"MAYBE, BUT IS IT WORTH THE CHANCE SHE'LL INJURE OR KILL ONE OF US? I THOUGHT WE
WERE GOING TO THE BIRTH MOUNTAIN."

HE BLINKED ONCE AND THEN A SECOND TIME, MORE SLOWLY, AND FOR AN INSTANT, I THOUGHT
HIS EYES TURNED IN LAZY CIRCLES THAT SPUN MY THOUGHTS AROUND AND AROUND. MAYBE
IT WAS TIME TO CONFRONT ONE OF OUR SIBLINGS DIRECTLY . . . I SHOOK MYSELF FREE OF THE
IRRITATING DISTRACTION, CLAWING A GOUGE INTO THE SOIL WITH IMPATIENCE. NOTHING
FRUITFUL WOULD BE SERVED BY CLASHING WITH THE OTHER DRAGONS. THE WORLD WAS WIDE
ENOUGH THAT WE COULD EASILY LIVE IN HARMONY, EVEN IF IT MEANT STAYING OUT OF THE
WAY OF THOSE WHO GUARDED THEIR TERRITORY WITH JEALOUS FERVOR.

"WHAT DID SHE MEAN BY DRAGON HUNTERS?" I ASKED. "WHY IS SHE AVOIDING THE BIRTH
MOUNTAIN?"

"WE'LL SOON FIND OUT."

WE FLEW ON, GETTING HUNGRIER BECAUSE PALLADIA-MORS ABANDONED THE THREE PLUMP
CARCASSES TO FOLLOW US. THERE WAS ABSOLUTELY NO POINT IN HUNTING AS LONG AS SHE
STAYED CLOSE ENOUGH TO GRAB ANY NEW CATCH AWAY FROM US AS SOON AS WE BROUGHT IT
DOWN.

BUT WHEN THE MOUNTAIN APPEARED IN THE DISTANCE WITH ITS LONG SMOOTH SLOPES AND
SYMMETRICAL SHAPE, SHE TURNED BACK.

NICOL KEPT AN EYE ON HER AS SHE RETREATED, BUT I COULD NOT KEEP MY GAZE OFF THE
MOUNTAIN. A THRILL OF SENTIMENT AGITATED ME. WE HAD NO PARENTS AS HUMANS
MEASURED FAMILY. WE HAD ONLY A PROGENITOR, UNSEEN, NEVER SPOKEN TO, FROM WHOSE
WING BEATS WE HAD FALLEN LIKE CHAFF SHAKEN OUT OF A SHEAF OF WHEAT. THE MOUNTAIN
WAS JUST THE UNFORESEEN PLACE WHERE WE HAD WOKEN, A CHANCE, A COINCIDENCE.
NEVERTHELESS, THE PEAK CALLED TO ME AS IF IT HAD A VOICE MADE OF INVISIBLE THREADS
THAT DREW ME EVER CLOSER TO ITS SECRET, MOLTEN HEART.

Mountain | Art by: Rebecca Guay

THE MOUNTAIN HAD NOT CHANGED, OR SO I THOUGHT AS WE DREW CLOSER. BUT THE
LANDSCAPE AROUND IT HAD CHANGED. IN THE TIME OF OUR FALLING BIRTH, A DENSE FOREST
HAD STRETCHED OUT IN EVERY DIRECTION AROUND THE MOUNTAIN, CUT HERE AND THERE
WITH RANDOM CLEARINGS MADE BY AN ERUPTION OF STONY GROUND OR THE FALL OF A GIANT
TREE. OF COURSE, THE HARSH MEMORY OF OUR SISTER'S DEATH IN ONE SUCH CLEARING
REMAINED AS FRESH AS THE HOT BLOOD OF THE BEASTS WE'D KILLED EARLIER, WHOSE MEAT
HAD BEEN STOLEN FROM US BY OUR LIVING SISTER.

BUT NOW. NOW, WHAT A CHANGE MET OUR ASTONISHED EYES! THE FOREST WAS HACKED
THROUGH WITH CRUDE ROADWAYS LINKING FORTIFIED SETTLEMENTS, EACH CLUSTER OF
BUILDINGS RINGED WITH A HIGH PALISADE. OUTSIDE THE WALLS, HUTS CROWDED UP AGAINST
THE PALISADE LIKE SO MANY BEGGARS REACHING OUT THEIR HANDS TOWARD A BOWL HEAPED
WITH FOOD. INSIDE THE WALLS STOOD LONGHOUSES OF A GRANDER CONSTRUCTION, EACH
RINGED BY A FENCE DECORATED WITH STRIPS OF ELABORATELY WOVEN TEXTILES AND STRINGS
OF SMALL BRASS BELLS. WITH EVERY GUST OF WIND THE AIR CHIMED.

THE GATES OF THE SETTLEMENT WERE TWICE THE HEIGHT OF A MAN. THEY WERE CARVED WITH
A STARK, VIOLENT SCENE OF HUMAN HUNTERS STABBING THEIR SPEARS INTO THE PRONE BODY
OF A DYING DRAGON.

BUT THERE WAS WORSE EVEN THAN THIS. THE LARGEST LONGHOUSE ROSE AT THE CENTER,
ELEVATED ON AN ARTIFICIAL MOUND OF EARTH AND RINGED BY A STONE WALL THAT, TO MY
EYE, SEEMED TO PROTECT IT FROM THE OTHER LONGHOUSES. ATOP ITS GATE, BOUND TO A
MASSIVE PILLAR, LEERED THE SKULL OF A DRAGON. THE PATHWAY LEADING FROM THE GATE
TO THE ENTRANCE INTO THE GREAT LONGHOUSE RAN BENEATH ARCHES MADE BY A DRAGON'S
RIBS LASHED TO POLES.

NICOL HISSED WITH A LONG, LOW, FURIOUS SOUND. "THEY HAVE TURNED OUR SISTER INTO AN
ORNAMENT!"

I WAS TOO SHOCKED TO SPEAK.

ALTHOUGH WE FLEW HIGH OVERHEAD, HORNS GREETED OUR ARRIVAL. ARMED PEOPLE RAN TO
THE WALL WALK. MORE RACED TO PLACE HUGE IRON BOLTS IN THE BELLY OF BOLT THROWERS
THAT LOOKED LIKE MASSIVE, GROUNDED CROSSBOWS. FASTER THAN I REALIZED WAS
POSSIBLE, SEVERAL OF THESE BOLTS WERE LAUNCHED ON A DEADLY ARC TOWARD US.
ALTHOUGH NICOL TWISTED OUT OF THEIR WAY, MY LEFT REAR CLAW WAS CUT BY A GLANCING
BLOW. THE SCRATCH WAS NOT MUCH, BUT SOME NASTY SUBSTANCE HAD BEEN SMEARED ON
THE POINT AND ITS VENOM SCALDED MY FLESH. MY BELLOW OF PAIN SHOOK THE HEAVENS.
FIVE DROPS OF MY BLOOD FELL FROM THE SHALLOW CUT, PLUMMETING EARTHWARD, EACH
DROP AS BIG AS A HUMAN FIST. PEOPLE PUSHED AND SHOVED, TEARING AND HITTING AS THEY
FOUGHT TO GET BENEATH THE FALLING BLOOD.

TWO PEOPLE TILTED BACK THEIR HEADS AND WERE HIT SQUARE ON THE FACE WITH A SPLASH
OF MY BLOOD. ONE SANK TO THE GROUND AS IN PRAYER, HANDS CLASPED AT HER CHEST, AND
THOSE WHO HAD NOT REACHED THE BLOOD IN TIME PROSTRATED THEMSELVES AROUND HER.
THE OTHER HOWLED WITH GLEE, ARMS RAISED TRIUMPHANTLY AS HE SHOOK SPEAR AND KNIFE
TOWARD THE SKY IN DEFIANCE, OR AS THANKS FOR A HEAVENLY PORTENT.

THE SCUFFLE HAD SO ROILED THE CROWD THAT THE LAST THREE DROPS SPLATTED ON THE SOIL.
PEOPLE DROPPED TO THEIR KNEES TO SHOVE BLOOD-STAINED DIRT INTO THEIR MOUTHS. IT WAS
AN APPALLING SCENE, BUT WE COULD NOT TARRY.

"UGIN!" NICOL SHOUTED. "COME. COME!"

A SECOND ROUND OF BOLTS THUMPED OUT OF THE BALLISTAE, HEADED FOR US. I FLEW AS FAST
AS EVER I COULD TO GET OUT OF REACH. MY CLAW THROBBED WITH A MALICIOUS AGONY.
NUMBNESS CREPT UP MY LEG.

"I HAVE TO LAND, NICOL."

"NO! KEEP FLYING."

I DIDN'T HAVE THE STRENGTH TO ARGUE. THROUGH MY HAZE OF PAIN, I SPIED MORE
SETTLEMENTS HACKED OUT OF THE FOREST. EVEN THE SMALLEST SETTLEMENT HAD AT LEAST
ONE BALLISTA TO GUARD IT. THOSE WHO LIVED INSIDE THE PALISADES BORE IRON-BLADED
WEAPONS, WHILE THOSE WHO LIVED IN THE HUTS OUTSIDE TOILED IN ROCKY FIELDS WITH
STONE TOOLS UNDER THE LASH OF CRUEL OVERSEERS. THE GATES OF MOST OF THE PALISADES
WERE ADORNED WITH THE SKULLS OF BEARS AND GIANT WOLVES, WHILE SOME BORE
SCULPTURES MEANT TO LOOK LIKE DRAGONS WHICH HAD BEEN WIRED TOGETHER OUT OF
HUMAN SKULLS IN A GHASTLY MOCKERY OF A DRAGON'S NOBLE LINEAMENTS. IN FOUR OTHER
SETTLEMENTS, A TRUE DRAGON'S SKULL ORNAMENTED THE CHIEF'S HOUSE. NOTABLY, THESE
SETTLEMENTS LAY MOST DISTANT FROM THE FIRST ONE, LIKE THE POINTS OF A PENTAGRAM.
EVEN IN PAIN, I NOTICED SUCH DETAILS.

AT LENGTH, NICOL TOOK PITY ON MY WRETCHED STATE AND CIRCLED BACK TO THE PEAK OF
THE BIRTH MOUNTAIN. THERE, FLAGGING, SPENT, AND WEARY BEYOND MEASURE, I LANDED ON
THE BARE ROCK OF THE CRATER'S HIGH RIM. IF DRAGONS COULD WEEP I WOULD HAVE WEPT.

"OVER HERE." NICOL LED ME TO THE NORTH-FACING SHADOW WHERE LAST YEAR'S SNOWPACK
STILL LINGERED.

I STUCK MY FOOT INTO THE SNOW, BREAKING THROUGH ITS CRUST INTO THE ICY PACK
BENEATH. THE RELIEF OF ITS BITING COLD SOOTHED MY STINGING FLESH. I DROPPED MY HEAD
TO THE GROUND, PANTING SOFTLY AS THE PAIN EASED.

NICOL PERCHED AT THE HIGHEST POINT OF THE CRATER, SURVEYING THE LANDSCAPE.

"THEY'LL CLIMB UP AFTER US," HE SAID AS IF WELCOMING THE CONFRONTATION.

"IS THIS PEAK NOT TOO HIGH TO BE CLIMBED BY FRAIL HUMANS?" IT SEEMED IMPOSSIBLE TO
FLY JUST YET. I WANTED TO CLOSE MY EYES AND SLEEP, BUT I DARED NOT. AFTER SO LONG
LIVING AMID THE ORDER AND PEACE OF ARCADES' RULE, I COULD NOT QUITE GRASP HOW
DIFFERENT THIS PLACE WAS.

"THEY ARE NOT AS FRAIL AS YOU THINK THEM," SAID NICOL. "GREED IS NOT FRAIL. AMBITION
IS NOT FRAIL. THEIR WEAPONS CAN KILL US BECAUSE THEY ARE CLEVER. BECAUSE THEY WORK
TOGETHER, AS THEY DID WHEN THEY KILLED OUR SISTER. THEY WILL COME AFTER US BECAUSE
WE ARE DRAGONS. THEY WANT TO SEIZE OUR POWER FOR THEMSELVES."

"THEN WE SHOULD GO AWAY AT ONCE. IF THAT BOLT HAD CUT DEEPER, ITS POISON MIGHT
HAVE KILLED ME! NO WONDER PALLADIA-MORS AVOIDS THIS TERRIBLE PLACE."

"OH NO, UGIN. YOU'RE NOT AFRAID OF THESE PEOPLE, ARE YOU?"

RATHER THAN REPLY, I LICKED MY WOUNDED FOOT, SUCKING OUT SOUR-TASTING BLOOD AND
SPITTING IT ONTO THE GROUND.

HE SPREAD HIS WINGS AS IF IN CHALLENGE TO ANY HUMANS STARING UP AT THE MOUNTAIN

FROM FAR BELOW OUR EXALTED HEIGHT. "WE HAVE COME HERE TO AVENGE OUR SISTER, AND
AVENGE HER WE WILL."

"I WON'T ACT LIKE VAEVICTIS AND HIS SIBLINGS, SLAUGHTERING INNOCENT CREATURES WITH
INDISCRIMINATE LUST!"

"YOU WON'T HAVE TO KILL ANYONE AT ALL, BROTHER. THAT I PROMISE YOU. I HAVE A PLAN, A
VERY CUNNING PLAN, BECAUSE I HAVE TAUGHT MYSELF TO DO SOMETHING NO ONE ELSE CAN
DO."

"That's enough for now, Tae Jin." Grandmother called a halt as the late afternoon shadows
pulled long across the land. Her own face fell into shadow; something he'd said in his story
troubled her, Naiva could tell, but she didn't know how to ask or if Grandmother would
reveal her concerns.

He bowed his head obediently.

They had reached Grandmother's chosen destination: a jumble of boulders where hunting
parties patrolling the borders of Atarka territory often camped. Overhangs in the rocks had
been deepened to offer shelter from wind and rain and cover from the gaze of flying
creatures. There was even a hearth cunningly crafted into a hollow stone-built chamber
disguised amid the other boulders; many small cracks and holes channeled the smoke slowly
and invisibly into the air. Beyond the boulders, the river broke over a series of descending
shelf-like terraces in a churning foam whose constant chatter also provided a form of
concealment.
"We'll light no fire, lest the dragons find us by its heat and smell," Grandmother added.

Of course, the lack of a fire was no hardship for hunters. Their gear protected them from the
cold, and they carried provisions.

Assigned to sentry duty, Naiva took a strip of dried meat and made her way to the edge of the
trees, still brooding over the revelation about worlds. But really it was more about Baishya
receiving secret training. Of course whisperers lived in constant danger from Atarka. Of
course it made sense that shamans shared their knowledge only with others like themselves.
But that sense of being left behind still rankled.

Whisperer of the Wilds | Art by: David Gaillet

She climbed up on one of the outermost rocks, tucking herself against it to become part of the
boulder. At least she had this world and its beauty and challenges. The vantage gave her an
excellent view to the northwest across a flat expanse of tundra sweeping toward the eastern
range of the Qal Sisma. Where the tundra broke against the foothills, a vast chasm split the
land. The deep canyon and its shattered rock was too far away to see clearly, drowned by the
shadows of encroaching twilight, but a faint blueish haze drifted above the chasm as a
person's breath on a cold morning clouds the icy air.

Footfalls scuffed the rock. Tae Jin climbed up beside her and settled into a crouch.

"That's where we are going," Naiva said. "Ugin's grave. A few days' walk away."

"Have you been there before?"

"Yes. Once. When we were twelve."

"We?"

"Hey!" Baishya called softly from below, then scrambled up. The sun caught on her face just
as she reached the top, giving her features a glow that Naiva envied. She smiled winningly at
Tae Jin, which annoyed Naiva even more because of how simple such exchanges seemed for
Baishya while Naiva struggled with her own surging, complicated desires.

"Me and Baishya, I mean, and some other children Grandmother had her eye on."
"What did the wise Yasova have her eye on?" He hadn't looked at either of them, only toward
the chasm and the way the light changed above it as the sun set. It almost seemed someone
had lit a blue fire far down below, visible as shifting traceries of gleaming mist drifting at the
rim of the chasm.

Baishya tapped her on the arm in warning. "That's tribe business, Nai."

Annoyed by the rebuke, still indignant over what Grandmother had mentioned, Naiva went
on recklessly. "Atarka hates magic. She fears it. Grandmother thought if she could learn early
which children are likely to become whisperers, she could better hide them from Atarka's
wrath. She thought maybe if they slept close to Ugin's grave, the Spirit Dragon's ancestral
presence might awaken their magic early. Then she could prepare them to conceal their
power from Atarka or to go away into the mountains to hide."

"Nai! It's not for outsiders to know our secrets."

"So I am given to understand!" she said curtly before turning her attention to Tae Jin, who
watched the exchange with cautious interest. "Ugin is dead. There've been no dreams or
portents."

"Not until now," broke in Baishya. "The windfolk brought me a vision. And it sounds as if
your master had a vision from Ugin too. Is that right?"

He nodded with the greatest seriousness. "That is what my master believes. The tempests that
birth dragons have increased in strength since Ugin's death. He believes this means some
essence of the Spirit Dragon still endures, and has found the strength to reach out. That's why
he sent me—"

Naiva elbowed him to silence. Being close to him was almost overwhelming—his lips, his
eyes, the common youthful feelings of interest and desire—but that didn't mean she stopped
scanning the sky and the land for threat. The clouds to the west had started to pile up as with
an incoming storm.

"There," she said just as a whistle sounded from Mattak, who was on sentry duty.

A strange, disjointed shadow approached through the dusk, headed straight for them. Its flight
was weirdly slow and clumsy. They had time to scramble down from the boulder before the
shape loomed close, resolving into its true nature: the Atarka broodling was carrying the limp
body of the Ojutai dragon in its claws. It skimmed down toward their hiding place and
dropped the carcass just beyond the boulders. The impact shuddered through the ground,
doubled as the broodling hit hard beside it, and with a fiery blast, set flame burning along the
dry grass. Blood dripped from claw marks sunk deep into its flanks from the battle. It was
already badly injured, engorged with pain.

"Come out! My cousin tells me truth before she dies. Traitor! Dragon killer!"

Smelling them, it leaped in among the boulders.

Baishya shouted a warning meant to carry back to the other hunters, but they couldn't
possibly reach them in time.

"Down!" Tae Jin lunged past her, dodging around the dragon's massive forelegs as they
slammed down onto the dirt.

Naiva shoved Baishya hard behind one rock, then dropped and rolled into the cover of the
adjacent boulder. The broodling's fire breath scalded the grass on which they'd been standing.
Flames licked at Naiva's feet as she flipped her spear around and peered out.

Tae Jin had leaped away from its lashing tail. The trailing slash of one of its rear legs caught
him on the shoulder, and he reeled backward.

Its howl fell like a clap of thunder. "I kill you!"

Naiva jumped out into the open and shouted gibberish to draw its gaze. As the dragon hissed
in surprise at her sudden appearance, Tae Jin clapped his forearms together. A glimmer of
misty-like frost shuddered in his palms. With a hiss of powerful magic, the white sparks
elongated to become a long ghostly blade that shimmered, bright yet without physical
substance, its glowing hilt held in his hands. He darted under its head and, incredibly, slashed
open its scaled belly with a powerful stroke of the insubstantial blade. His quickness in
ducking aside saved him from the gush of innards that spilled onto the ground in a slimy,
stinking mess.

The creature crashed forward, hissing as its head slapped down onto the earth. Tae Jin spun
backward to avoid being crushed, stumbled, and fell hard. Yet the dragon still had life in it. It
lurched forward, snapping at him. Both Grandmother and Fec shouted at it, charging in from
either side to stab at its neck, trying to draw it off. Baishya called up her magic again, sliding
a huge rock sideways until it wedged up against the broodling's shoulder, trapping it.
Uninjured, it could have shaken off the burden, but its struggles were weakening.

Herdchaser Dragon | Art by: Seb McKinnon

Naiva thrust the obsidian point of her spear into the dragon's unblinking eye, the sharp stone
slicing the hard outer surface and sliding deep through the silvery orb into the soft brain
beneath. The beast shuddered and with a last gasp coughed up glowing embers.
She yanked her spear free. The embers faded, settled to earth, and died.

Wind spilled across her face, pouring the hot, honey smell of dragon's blood into her nostrils.
To kill a dragon was a crime. Yet she exalted, for she hadn't hesitated. Like a true hunter, she
hadn't quailed before the attack. Dragons were more powerful than humans, but they could be
killed.

Yet what was the ghostly sword that had torn its belly open? Was Tae Jin dead?

She cautiously walked around the bulk of the corpse with its whiff of sulphur and honey. Tae
Jin lay on his back, face slack, eyes closed, but still breathing. Fresh blood was splashed
across his tunic. The fabric had been sliced at the right shoulder, a flap hanging down. The
ripped cloth exposed the honed musculature and, cut across it, a shining mark like the rake of
a twinned dragon claw that had slashed across his shoulder and down his chest. She'd never
seen such a mark before, so striking and beautiful.

Kneeling, she touched his face lightly. His eyes opened. Seeing her, he blinked once, and
then twice as if making sure she wasn't doubled.

"You are very brave," he said.

She flushed, so pleased by the praise she couldn't answer. But when he smiled, she found her
voice after all. "It's dead. We killed it. What was that weapon you used?"

"You've lied to us, Tae Jin."

Grandmother's harsh voice interrupted as the rest of the party crowded up in a bristling of
spears to stare at the dead dragons and the young wanderer.

"You wear the dragon mark of a ghostfire warrior. Shu Yun made a bargain that all the
ghostfire warriors would die in exchange for the rest of the Jeskai people being allowed to
live. So tell me: how is it that you even exist?"

CHRONICLE OF BOLAS: WHISPERS

OF TREACHERY
Grandmother was a formidable woman, once known as Yasova Dragonclaw of the Temur
clan. Now that the title had been outlawed by the dragonlord, she was called First Mother to
the Atarka tribespeople. The old woman stood amid a jumble of boulders beside the still-
warm carcass of a dead broodling. But instead of examining the dragon, she was looking
down on a young man whose shoulder bore a shallow cut from a dragon's claw. His blood
oozed down over the shining mark of a ghostfire warrior that curved over his shoulder and
down onto his chest.

"You concealed your magic from us, Tae Jin. All our lives are forfeit if the dragons discover
we have sheltered a ghostfire warrior. Tell me the truth, or I must kill you."

Naiva supposed the ghostfire blade Tae Jin could call up using forbidden Jeskai magic might
be a match even for Grandmother's fighting ability, maybe even for the entire hunting party,
but the young man knelt with head humbly bowed. He made no threats. He offered no
bluster. Yet he also did not tremble. He wasn't afraid of her, or of death.

"My mother was a scribe who served Shu Yun before the fall. She survived Ojutai's purge
and dedicated herself to saving what she could of the history and knowledge of the Jeskai
Way. A few wanderers and scouts managed to escape and hide in the mountains. These
people carry all that remains of the old way. My mother sent me into the wilderness to study
with the man who became my master. He is the one who sent me to you. He taught me the
way of the ghostfire blade so it would not be lost."

Ghostfire Blade | Art by: Cyril Van Der Haegen

"That you are a ghostfire warrior is an unpleasant surprise," said Grandmother. "Is this some
kind of trap on the part of Ojutai? This is exactly the sort of roundabout trick a cunning and
unscrupulous opponent might use to flush its prey out of hiding. His prey being me, and what
he believes I know."

"My master received a vision from the Spirit Dragon."

"Ugin is dead." Naiva thought she would have to repeat herself forever. "Isn't that right,
Grandmother?"

"Go on, Tae Jin." Grandmother raised a hand to signal Naiva to silence.

How the gesture grated at Naiva, dismissed so casually. Tae Jin didn't even look at her as he
replied.

"Yes, Ugin is dead, but my master received a vision nevertheless. The Spirit Dragon told him
it was time to share the story told to our Jeskai ancestors."
"A story I've never heard of or even suspected." Grandmother grunted to mark her
displeasure. "Shu Yun liked his secrets—"

"He's not the only one," Naiva muttered, even knowing how childish and disrespectful she
sounded.

Baisya elbowed her with a disapproving hiss.

Grandmother kept speaking as if she hadn't just been interrupted. "—so it's no surprise he
kept Ugin's story from the rest of us."

"The Jeskai Way hangs by a thread. My master says if the story is known in more than one
place, then it is more likely to survive."

"To survive for what purpose?" Naiva demanded. "The dragons rule us now. The old ways
are just a corpse left out to be consumed by carrion eaters."

"If we lose the past, we lose ourselves," scolded Grandmother. She brushed a hand along her
mantle, made from the pelt of her beloved Anchin, and was about to say more when Fec
called softly.

The old orc had climbed atop a flat rock, his form visible as a darker shadow as the last
daylight died. Stars shone overhead, but he gazed toward the horizon where no stars were
visible. He lifted his face to the air and took in a deep inhalation.

"There's a storm coming," he said.

The clouds to the north had piled up in a portentous way over the rugged borderlands that
Atarka considered the edge of her hunting territory. Flashes of lightning spanned the higher
reaches, streaks of light that flashed and died. They were too far away to hear thunder.

Island | Art by: Florian de Gesincourt

"It's a dragon tempest, and it's moving in fast," Fec added. "I know their scent and taste well."
Grandmother frowned. "I don't like to remain so close to the dead dragons, but we can't
weather a dragon tempest out on the open tundra. It will be even more dangerous at night.
We'll shelter in the rocks until it passes. I'll examine the young man's wound once we're in the
shelter. Can you walk?"

Before Tae Jin could answer, Fec interrupted. "You already expended a great deal of strength
healing him, First Mother. Too much more, and you'll harm yourself."

"I can walk." Tae Jin gritted his teeth as he got to his feet. When Naiva took a step forward to
assist him he waved her off, and Baishya took hold of her elbow as if she thought her twin
couldn't take the hint.

Grandmother assigned Mattak, Oiyan, and the quiet ainok Darka to sentry duty around the
concealed entrance to the rock chamber. The rest had to bend over double to make their way
through a low passageway cut with several chimney shafts. No dragon could enter, and the
vents meant any fire breath would dissipate before reaching the central chamber. Deep in the
rock, Rakhan kindled a fire. By its dim light, Grandmother examined the cut.

"It's shallow and can heal on its own. Girls, guard our visitor."

"Where are you going?" Baishya asked.

"This is a rare chance for Fec and I to take the liver and hearts from the broodling now that
it's belly is already cut open. Atarka need never know."

"Don't you want my help, Grandmother?" Baishya asked just as Naiva said, "I'd like to see
what the insides of a dragon look like!"

"Not today, with a dragon tempest blowing in. You two stay here, under cover."

"Yes, Grandmother," said Baishya obediently.

Naiva fumed, exhaling sharply. She wanted to complain, but not in front of the stranger.

Grandmother pinched her cheek. She didn't have a gentle touch, but the gesture was a sign of
affection even though it hurt. "You can see to the lad's cut, Naiva."

She went out with Fec, leaving Rakhan and Sorya to soak dried meat from their provisions in
boiling water. Baishya gave Naiva a questioning look as if to say, "What is wrong with you?"
Naiva turned away as Tae Jin settled on the ground, rubbing droplets of blood off his face.

"Does it hurt?" she asked him.

"Not enough to matter."

Baishya heated water steeped with petals of Heart of the Earth flowers over the fire in a small
copper pot. She wrung out a damp cloth. Naiva snatched it from her but hesitated. Tae Jin's
bare skin gleamed in the firelight. The thought of touching him, even with a cloth, made her
breathe as if she was caught in a storm of beating wings.

Tae Jin caught her eye and nodded to show it was acceptable to him to be tended by her. With
the slightest wince, he pulled off his torn tunic, exposing the golden-brown skin and wiry
muscles of his shoulders and chest.

She cleared her throat self-consciously, aware of Bai's sly gaze on her shot through with
mocking amusement. As if Bai wouldn't have felt a similar awkwardness! Yet it occurred to
her that she and her twin never gossiped about the other young people and whether they were
attractive. Bai turned her attention to washing the damp blood off the tunic in a trough cut
into the rock. That a young man's well-built torso was a subject of no interest to her twin gave
Naiva a lift of confidence.

Lips primly closed, she carefully dabbed away the blood from the shallow cut, working her
way down its length, which cut across the shining mark. His breathing never skipped in its
even in and out, although, once or twice, his eyelids flickered. After a bit, she handed the now
blood-stained cloth back to Baishya and squeezed the juice of freshly picked leaves onto the
cut.

"What herb is this? I don't know it from my own mountains."

"We call it all-heal because it keeps wounds from festering and eases bruising," she said, and
boldly went on. "How old were you when your mother sent you away?"

"I was twelve."

"Did you ever see her again?"

"No."

"Do you miss her?"

His grave expression made her wish she had asked him a question that got him to smile
instead. "Of course, I miss her. She is an educated, accomplished woman. As I said, she is
one of the few scribes who served Shu Yun to survive the fall. She always knew her duty was
to send me into the wilderness. What of you?"

"Our mother is dead. Atarka killed her for being a whisperer."

"A whisperer? You used that word before. I don't know it."

"She means a shaman, like your people have." Baishya wedged an elbow into Naiva's ribs as
a reminder that only Temur shamans knew the secret of whispering, speaking mind to mind
with other shamans. Naiva knew this skill existed because the two girls shared everything,
part of the bond of being twins. But evidently that was no longer true.
 Whisperer of the Wilds | Art by: David Gaillet

He glanced between them, reading something in their expressions. "It's true the dragons fear
our magic. They fear anything they think they cannot control or which does not belong to
them."

"Is it worth it?" Naiva asked, unable to keep a trace of bitterness from her voice.

"What do you mean?"

"Losing our mothers. Or anyone, really, just for the sake of keeping old traditions alive. The
dragons rule us now. Maybe it's better to discard what they've forbidden."

"Better for whom? Better for the dragonlords, certainly. What about the respect and duty we
owe to our ancestors?"

"Maybe it's best to let the dead go and concentrate on this day's hunt and this day's survival."

He cast her a sidelong look then shook his head with a frown. She'd disappointed him, and
she glared at the ground to hide her chagrin. She wanted him to think well of her, and now,
she didn't know what to say.

In a cool tone he said, "Do you think it would be best for Atarka Dragonlord to kill your
sister, as she did your mother? Is that what you propose?"

"Of course not! I just meant that everyone dies. Maybe we are trying too hard to keep alive
the old ways when they would naturally die in the course of time," Naiva muttered.

"What is natural about their death?" Tae Jin asked calmly. "The old ways, as you call them,
did not die of old age or neglect on the part of the people who followed them. They have been
deliberately hunted down and killed by the dragons, piece by piece, memory by memory. By
keeping them alive, we defy the dragons rather than accept defeat. Maybe it is a small thing.
Maybe none of it will matter when generations have passed. But maybe it will. But only if
there is something left to be found, however small, however unremarkable. That is why my
mother sent me into the wilderness."
Baishya crouched on the other side of Tae Jin, offering him a needle and thread. "Yes, I
understand, Tae Jin. I follow a similar path. What we keep alive is what sews us to the past.
The future is unwritten. Do you want the dragonlords to be the sole arbiters of what comes to
pass, Nai?"

"Of course I don't. That's not what I meant." But in a way, it had been what her words had
meant. How annoying to be shown up as wrong!

Tae Jin reached for the needle. The shift of his arm and shoulder made him wince. Naiva
leaned in and plucked the needle from his fingers.

"Let the cut heal. I can repair your tunic."

"We have much in common," Tae Jin said to Baishya. The two of them began cautiously to
discuss their training, although it was clear they were both speaking obliquely, not willing to
say too much about the secret lore of their respective traditions. And especially not in front of
anyone who wasn't a shaman!

Naiva loved the lore of hunting because it was straightforward. Skill and experience mattered
but the goal was simple and the outcome clear. People must eat. Those who brought down
game could feed others and thus be the most valued members of the tribe. But she didn't
know how to say that when Baishya and Tae Jin had clearly delved into lore and magic that
she knew nothing about and would never comprehend.

The thought of that lack plagued her like rats gnawing on her insides. With mouth pressed
tightly, she set to work to repair the tunic. If she kept her hands busy, then she did not have to
resent her sister. It was quiet in the shelter with the fire crackling and a pot of broth
simmering. Sorya and Rakhan were hauling water from the river for a cistern carved into the
back of the chamber, working to make everything secure.

"You have a neat hand at stitching, Naiva," Tae Jin said abruptly.

It was warm by the fire; her cheeks felt scalded.

"Every hunter must be able to repair every piece of their equipment." She ran the cloth
through her hands. The fabric was smoother and thinner than any cloth she had ever touched
before. "What is this made of? We use hides and felt."

"You've never worn wool?"

"Nothing as delicate as this. A few of the elders have wool cloaks they use for sleeping since
it's hard for them to keep warm. We don't weave such cloaks ourselves. We trade for them
from your people and the Dromoka."

"It's woven from goats' wool."

"Goats? Like mountain goats?"

"No, a different sort of goat. A smaller, domesticated goat that lives alongside humanoids.
They're hardy creatures who thrive in the mountains where I come from."

Mountain | Art by: Florian de Gesincourt

"Are those mountains different from our mountains?"

He grinned. "I have never traveled in your mountains, so I would not know."

"How did you get here? I mean, how did you know the way? Did the dragon chase you the
entire time? Or did it come after you later?"

"Tae Jin will have to wait on those questions," said Grandmother.

She came over, leaning on her spear, looking exhausted. Both girls sprang up at once to take
hold of her arms, one on each side. They settled her on the mantle made from Anchin's pelt.
She leaned back against the rock with a weary sigh.

"Where is Fec?" Naiva asked.

"Stashing the offal in sacks in the river, to hide the smell. My bones are old." She closed her
eyes. For a terrifying moment Naiva thought she had fainted, but she was just resting.

After a silence, she addressed the young man in her usual curt tone.

"There is more to your story. I'll listen."

He pulled on the repaired tunic. The damp spots where Baishya had washed out the blood
spatter steamed in the fire's heat. The wind was picking up outside, heard as a plaintive
moaning down the entry tunnel. Smoke drifted upward to the cracks in the rock chamber, and
as he began to speak, it seemed to Naiva the tendrils of smoke twisted and coiled to the
rhythm of his telling as if to bend into images of the tale itself, for voices and words carry a
magic that allows listeners to see what they have not personally witnessed.
I SUFFERED THROUGH A MISERABLE NIGHT WASHED BY SUCCESSIVE WAVES OF SWEATING AND
SHIVERING AS THE VENOM'S POTENCY SLOWLY FADED. NO WONDER FOUR DRAGON SKULLS HAD
JOINED THAT OF OUR SISTER, MERREVIA SAL, AS ADORNMENTS ATOP GATES. THEY NEED ONLY
WOUND THEIR TARGET AND THEN TRACK IT AS IT WEAKENS.

BUT I WAS MADE OF STERNER STUFF, OR PERHAPS ONLY FORTUNATE ENOUGH TO RECEIVE BUT
A SCRATCH RATHER THAN A DEEPER INJURY WHERE VENOM COULD REACH MY HEARTS. BY
DAWN I FELT SLUGGISH, BUT AT LEAST I COULD EXTEND AND RETRACT MY CLAW WITHOUT
PAIN, ALTHOUGH A NUMBNESS PERSISTED IN MY FORELEG.

WATCHFIRES HAD BLAZED ALL NIGHT FAR BELOW. WE HAD HEARD A DISTANT BUZZ OF
ACTIVITY AS IF WE HAD SHAKEN ANTS OUT OF THEIR NEST. AS THE LIGHT CHANGED, THE GREAT
FIRES WERE DOUSED. HORNS BLARED WITH SHRILL EAGERNESS. NICOL HAD SPENT ALL NIGHT
IN SILENT CONTEMPLATION, PERCHED AT THE APEX OF THE MOUNTAIN. AT THE SOUND OF THE
HORNS, HE CHUCKLED SOFTLY AS IF HE FOUND IT ALL TERRIBLY AMUSING. I WASN'T AMUSED AT
ALL.

"WE SHOULD GO," I SAID. "THEY'RE NOT AFRAID OF US."

"THEY WILL SOON LEARN TO BE AFRAID." HE CRANED HIS NECK, SHIFTING TO GET A BETTER
LOOK DOWN THE MOUNTAIN. A HISS OF FIRE STEAMED FROM HIS NOSTRILS. "HOW ODD. A LONE
TRAVELER CLIMBS TOWARD US. WHAT FRAIL HUMAN WOULD DARE?"

Art by: Yongjae Choi

"MAYBE IT'S A TRAP."

CURIOSITY PIQUED, I FLEW UP OUT OF THE SHADOWS TO JOIN HIM. THE RISING SUN FLOODED
MY VISION. A SMALL SHAPE TRUDGED STEADILY UPWARD, PICKING ITS WAY THROUGH A LONG
SCATTER OF ROCK THAT WAS THE DEBRIS FROM AN ANCIENT ERUPTION. AS THE BIPED DREW
CLOSER IT WAVED MERRILY AND, WITH A CURIOUSLY RELAXED GRIN, KEPT CLIMBING TOWARD
US.
"DON'T BURN IT," I WHISPERED AS NICOL LIFTED HIS HEAD AND LEANED FORWARD AS IF TO
LEAP UPON THE BRAVE SOUL.

"BURNING IS SO CRUDE, UGIN. I'M DEVELOPING SUBTLER METHODS. ANYWAY, I DON'T THINK IT
IS A TRUE HUMANOID AT ALL."

"BROTHERS! GREETINGS TO YOU." THE BIPED CALLED OUT. "I'M SURPRISED TO SEE YOU HERE.
THIS PLACE IS NO LONGER SAFE FOR OUR KIND."

"CHROMIUM RHUELL?" I REARED BACK IN ASTONISHMENT.

NICOL SETTLED ON HIS HAUNCHES WITH A HUFF OF ANNOYANCE. "HOW DO YOU DO THAT?"

"DO WHAT?" ASKED THE BIPED, WHO APPEARED OUTWARDLY AS A PREGNANT HUMAN EXCEPT
FOR THE WAY HIS EYES SHONE LIKE SAPPHIRES, REFULGENT WITH A DRAGON'S POWER.

"CHANGE YOURSELF INTO A HUMAN SO CONVINCINGLY." NICOL SNIFFED THE AIR WITH A
GRIMACE. "YOU EVEN SMELL LIKE ONE. RANCID AND CREDULOUS."

"IT'S A TRICK I TAUGHT MYSELF SO I CAN WALK AMONG THEM."

NICOL CAST A GLANCE AT ME TO SEE HOW I WOULD RESPOND TO THIS REMARKABLE

STATEMENT.

"WHAT HAVE YOU OBSERVED, BROTHER?" I ASKED.

"HUMANS ARE QUITE FASCINATING, AND THERE IS SO MUCH ABOUT THEM TO KNOW. WHERE
SHOULD I START?"

"WITH THE ONES WHO LIVE HERE, IN THE SHADOW OF OUR BIRTH MOUNTAIN," NICOL SAID.

THE HUMAN FACE WEARS EXPRESSIONS LIKE CLOTHING, CASTING EMOTION ON AND OFF AT
WHIM. WITH A FROWN, RHUELL SHOOK HIS HUMAN HEAD DISAPPROVINGLY AND TAPPED HIS
FISTS TOGETHER. "THESE HUMANS ARE DRAGON KILLERS. THEIR CHIEF IS AN OLD MAN WHO
HUNTED A DRAGON WHEN YOUNG AND STILL GLOATS OF IT ENDLESSLY WHILE SITTING ON A
CHAIR MADE OF ITS BONES. HE HAS DECREED THAT ANY PERSON WHO KILLS A DRAGON WILL
JOIN THE RANKS OF HIS HEIRS."

"HIS HEIRS?"

"THE ONES WHO MAY HOPE TO RULE AS CHIEF AFTER HE DIES."

NICOL GAVE A LOW RUMBLE, AS IF THE ANSWER CONTENTED HIM. "I SEE. HOW CONVENIENT."

I WOULD HAVE ASKED WHAT HE MEANT BY SAYING IT WAS "CONVENIENT," BUT CHROMIUM
RHUELL HAD ALREADY GONE ON.
"THAT'S NOT ALL. THE CHIEF CLAIMS THAT DIVINE FAVOR ELEVATED HIM ABOVE HIS LOWLY
SUBJECTS. THOSE WHO ARE TOUCHED BY DRAGON'S BLOOD, OR WHO DRINK OR EAT IT, ARE
CONSIDERED HOLY AND MAY LIVE A LIFE OF EASE AND PLENTY WHILE THE LESS FORTUNATE
SERVE THEM AS SLAVES."

Art by: Slawomir Maniak

NICOL CHUCKLED. HIS SLY AMUSEMENT TROUBLED ME. "THOSE WHO ARE STRONG OR CLEVER
ENOUGH WILL STAND ATOP THOSE WHO ARE WEAK AND STUPID, WILL THEY NOT? THESE ARE
THE FIRST HUMANS I HAVE SEEN WHO HAVE NOT DISGUSTED ME WITH THEIR FEEBLENESS AND
UNCTUOUS GROVELING."

WITH A SNARL OF SPARKS, I TURNED ON HIM. "NICOL! HOW CAN YOU SPEAK SO APPROVINGLY
OF PEOPLE WHO MURDERED OUR SISTER? I THOUGHT YOU RETURNED HERE TO AVENGE HER
DEATH."

"DO YOU APPROVE OF VENGEANCE NOW, UGIN? I THOUGHT YOU FAVORED TEDIOUS BOUTS OF
MEDITATION AND ARCADES'S BLAND DOMINION."

"I HAVE DONE NOTHING TO DESERVE YOUR DISDAIN. IN TRUTH, I DON'T LIKE THIS TONE OF
CONTEMPT FROM YOU. ESPECIALLY CONSIDERING I SAVED YOU FROM VAEVICTIS'S JAWS!"

I EXPECTED HIM TO SNAP BACK AT ME IN A TEMPER, BUT INSTEAD, HE SUNK HIS HEAD BETWEEN
HIS FORELEGS AND HALF CLOSED HIS EYES. SOMEONE WHO DIDN'T KNOW HIM WELL MIGHT
THINK HE WAS BASKING IN THE SUN, RELAXED AND EASY, BORED BY OUR EXCHANGE. BUT I
HAD OFTEN SEEN HIM LOUNGING ABOUT WATCHING ARCADES AND THE HUMANS IN JUST THIS
MANNER, AND A NIGGLING APPREHENSION CLAWED AT MY GUT.

"WHAT DO YOU PROPOSE TO DO NOW THAT YOU HAVE WALKED AMONG THEM AND STUDIED
THEIR WAYS, BROTHER RHUELL?" HE ASKED IN HIS MOST REASONABLE TONE.

"I INTEND TO CONSULT WITH ARCADES. MY RECOMMENDATION IS THAT WE DESTROY THE

CHIEF, HIS HEIRS, AND HIS ACOLYTES, BURN ALL THE TEMPLES, AND SALT THE FIELDS. WE WILL
NEED THE COOPERATION OF OUR SIBLINGS AND COUSINS TO MANAGE IT."
"SUCH DESTRUCTION SEEMS MORE LIKE VAEVICTIS'S WAY OF DOING THINGS AND QUITE UNLIKE
YOU AND YOUR DETACHED OBSERVATION, BROTHER," SAID NICOL WITH A FLICKER OF HIS
MUZZLE THAT BENT INTO A SNEER.

"IF YOU HAVE FLOWN OVER THIS TERRITORY, YOU WILL KNOW WHAT I MEAN."

IN A SOFT BEGUILING VOICE, NICOL SAID, "BROTHER RHUELL, LET US NOT BE TOO HASTY IN
RAINING DOWN FIRE. WOULDN'T YOU BE THE FIRST TO SAY THERE IS SOMETHING TO BE
LEARNED FROM THEM?"

"TO BE LEARNED FROM THEM? TO BE AVOIDED IS THE TRUTH OF IT! AFTER THE
DISAPPEARANCE OF THREE DRAGONS I CAME TO THIS PLACE TO FIND OUT WHAT WAS GOING ON.
I SAW THE CHIEF'S HUNTERS TRAP AND KILL A SMALL DRAGON, RECENTLY HATCHED AND THUS
YOUNG AND VULNERABLE. BESIDES THE BALLISTAE, WHOSE BOLTS CAN PIERCE OUR SCALES,
THEIR MAGIC WORKERS HAVE INSTILLED SORCERIES INTO A VENOM TO MAKE IT STRONG
ENOUGH TO POISON EVEN OUR FLESH. THE THREAT TO ALL OF US IS DIRE, SHOULD THEY SHARE
THIS KNOWLEDGE OF HOW TO SLAUGHTER US WITH OTHER HUMANOIDS."

NICOL BLEW A THREAD OF SMOKE FROM HIS MOUTH WITH A SARDONIC SMILE. "SO, YOU ARE
CONTENT IF WE KILL THE INNOCENT WHO TOIL AS WELL AS THE PRIDEFUL RULERS?"

"NO, THAT ISN'T WHAT I MEANT. CUT OFF THE HEAD AND KILL THE MONSTER. DESTROY THEIR
CHIEF'S HOUSE AND TEMPLES AND FORCE THEM TO MOVE AWAY FROM OUR BIRTH MOUNTAIN
AND OUR COUSINS' BONES, THAT'S WHAT I MEAN."

"SUCH DESTRUCTION WILL MORE LIKELY CAUSE THE LEAST OF THEM TO DIE. THOSE WITH
WEAPONS CAN STILL FORGE A PATH OUT OF THE DESTRUCTION AND CUT THEIR WAY TO A NEW
FOOTHOLD ELSEWHERE. ISN'T THAT CORRECT?"

"I DO NOT CARE WHERE THE SURVIVORS END UP. THEY ARE SAPIENT CREATURES AND CAN
MANAGE THEIR OWN DESTINIES AS LONG AS THEY DO NOT TAKE THEIR DRAGON-KILLING WAYS
WITH THEM."

"ARE YOU SAYING THE HUMANS MAY KILL AND TORMENT EACH OTHER, JUST AS LONG AS THEY
LEAVE DRAGONS ALONE?"

THE HUMAN EYES FLASHED WITH A PULSE OF ANNOYANCE, A GLIMPSE INTO CHROMIUM
RHUELL'S HIDDEN POWER. "YOU TWIST MY WORDS. I OBSERVE. I DO NOT INTERFERE WITH HOW
THEY BEHAVE AMONG THEMSELVES."

"I CONFESS, SUCH A PHILOSOPHY SOUNDS A TRIFLE HOLLOW TO ME. ONE LAW FOR THEM, AND A
DIFFERENT LAW FOR US."

"NICOL IS RIGHT," I SAID HASTILY, FOOLISHLY ATTEMPTING TO PLACATE BOTH OF THEM, "BUT
THAT DOESN'T MEAN WE SHOULD NOT CONSULT WITH ARCADES ABOUT WHAT TO DO."
BUT OUR ELDER BROTHER 'S RAGE FLARED IN A FLASH OF STAGGERINGLY BRIGHT BLUE LIGHT.
THE AIR AROUND US SWIRLED. A STRONG GUST SHOVED ME BACKWARD LIKE A BLOW. WHEN
THE BLINDING-WHITE HAZE FADED, CHROMIUM RHUELL IN ALL HIS DRACONIC MAGNIFICENCE
LOOMED OVER US, SHINING LIKE A MIRROR ABLAZE WITH LIGHT. HIS WINGS WERE SPREAD WIDE
AND THE FLAT CREST OF HIS FACE REFLECTED THE SUN IN MY EYES SO I COULD BARELY SEE.

Art by: Chase Stone

"I HEAR WHAT YOU ARE DOING, NICOL BOLAS. YOU TWIST WORDS TO WHATEVER SHAPE YOU
WISH THEM TO MAKE, THEN TWIST THEM AGAIN TO SUIT YOUR WISHES. YOU ARE THE LEAST OF
US, LAST FALLEN, NOT EVEN A WHOLE DRAGON BUT ONLY HALF OF ONE, BOUND AS YOU ARE TO
UGIN. DO NOT EVER AGAIN ATTEMPT TO CHALLENGE ME OR YOU WILL REGRET IT."

IN A CLAMOROUS RUSH OF WINGS, HE FLEW, CATCHING AN UPDRAFT OFF THE HEIGHTS AND
SPIRALING QUICKLY UP AND UP INTO THE HEAVENS UNTIL EVEN OUR KEEN SIGHT LOST TRACK
OF HIM.

NICOL SIGHED ON A LONG EXHALE OF WARMTH.

"WHY DID YOU PROVOKE HIM?" I DEMANDED. "YOU DID TWIST HIS WORDS."

HE SAID NOTHING, STARING STILL AT THE HEAVENS, SHIFTING HIS GAZE TO THE SUN'S SKY-
ALTERING BRILLIANCE. HUMANS COULD NOT LOOK UPON THE SUN FOR LONG, OR THEY WOULD
BLIND THEMSELVES, BUT WE DRAGONS CAN STARE INTO ITS LUMINOUS SPLENDOR FOR AS LONG
AS WE WISH. AS TE JU KI HAD ONCE TOLD ME, ALL CREATURES DEPEND ON THE SUN FOR LIFE,
BUT DRAGONS ARE THE ONLY CREATURES WHO, LIKE THE SUN, CAN BURN WITHOUT CONSUMING
THEMSELVES.

"TEMPLES, HEIRS, AND BLOOD," MURMURED NICOL. WITH A THOUGHTFUL EXPRESSION, HE

BENT HIS HEAD AND SCRAPED HIS HORNS ON THE GROUND TO LEAVE A MARK, THE SIGN OF HIS
PRESENCE HERE HIGH UPON THE ROCKS OF OUR BIRTH MOUNTAIN. THEN HE STRETCHED UP
FROM HIS HIND LEGS. "DO YOU SEE, UGIN? OUR ENEMIES ARE COMING. LET US GO DOWN TO
MEET THEM."
A LARGE GROUP OF ARMED PEOPLE HAD LEFT THE MAIN SETTLEMENT, LED BY A COMPANY OF
SCALE-CLAD WARRIORS ON HORSEBACK AND A CURTAINED SEDAN CHAIR CARRIED BY SIX
STRAPPING YOUNG MEN. THIS SMALL ARMY WAS ACCOMPANIED BY MULES HARNESSED TO
HAUL FOUR BALLISTAE MOUNTED ON WHEELS. THE WELL-FED AND WELL-CLOTHED
INHABITANTS STOOD ON SCAFFOLDING TO TOSS FLOWER WREATHS DOWN OVER THE WARRIORS.
THE ILL-CLOTHED, THIN, OVERWORKED PEOPLE KNELT ON EITHER SIDE OF THE ROADWAY,
HEADS BOWED, HANDS OVER THEIR EYES, CALLING OUT PRAISE IN ROTE PHRASES: "MAY THE
MIGHTY ONES PROTECT US" AND "BLOOD RULES THE BLOODLESS."

SINGING A ROBUST MARTIAL TUNE, THE PROUD WARRIORS STRODE ALONG A ROAD CUT
THROUGH THE FOREST THAT LED TO THE BASE OF THE MOUNTAIN. HERE, IN A CLEARING ON THE
LOWER SLOPES, A HANDSOME LOG PALISADE ENCLOSED A LARGE RECTANGULAR AREA DIVIDED
INTO THREE SEPARATE SECTIONS. THE BALLISTAE WERE DRAWN UP OUTSIDE THE PALISADE.
THE REST OF THE ARMY FILED INTO THE OUTERMOST SECTION, PASSING UNDER A GATE CARVED
IN THE SHAPE OF A DYING DRAGON. ON THIS LARGE ASSEMBLY GROUND, THE FOOT SOLDIERS
FORMED INTO RANKS AND KNELT, BOWING WITH HANDS PRESSED OVER THEIR FACES. THE
MOUNTED CONTINGENT RODE UNDER A SECOND, MORE ELABORATELY CARVED AND PAINTED
GATE DEPICTING A MAN CLAD IN BLOOD HOLDING A SPEAR IN ONE HAND AND A DRAGON'S CLAW
IN THE OTHER. HERE, GROOMS TOOK THE HORSES INTO THE SHELTER OF OPEN-SIDED STABLES
WHILE THE DISMOUNTED RIDERS ACCOMPANIED THE CURTAINED SEDAN CHAIR ON FOOT TO THE
THIRD AND FINAL GATE.

HERE, THEY TOO ALSO KNELT AND COVERED THEIR FACES IN SUBMISSION, ALL BUT TWO: A
MIDDLE-AGED MAN WITH A PROUD DEMEANOR AND A YOUNG WOMAN WITH A SCARRED FACE
AND A FIERCE GAZE. THESE TWO WERE EACH WEARING A HELMET ADORNED WITH A CREST OF
DRAGON'S TEETH. THEY WERE ALLOWED TO CROSS UNDER A GATEWAY THAT WAS, TO MY
HORROR, THE CURVED SPINE OF OUR SISTER HELD TOGETHER WITH WIRE AND LEATHER CORD.

THE INNERMOST COURTYARD CONTAINED A BEAUTIFUL TEMPLE, PERFECTLY PROPORTIONED IN

AN EXACT SQUARE, WITH A CUNNINGLY BUILT STACK OF THREE ROOFS, ONE ABOVE THE NEXT,
EACH PAINTED WITH ALTERNATING EYES AND SUNS. THE SEDAN CHAIR WAS CARRIED UP STEPS
TO THE TEMPLE'S FORECOURT AND SET DOWN, AFTER WHICH THE BEARERS IMMEDIATELY
RETREATED TO A SMALL CLOSED SHED. THE TWO ATTENDANTS DREW ASIDE THE CURTAINS,
AND A STOUT, WHITE- HAIRED MAN CLAMBERED OUT WITH THEIR ASSISTANCE. HE HAD A
GREEDY EXPRESSION AND THE THICK, GRASPING HANDS OF A MAN WHO HAS GROWN
ACCUSTOMED TO TAKING WHATEVER HE WANTS. BENEATH THE WRINKLES AND AGE SPOTS AND
DOUBLE CHIN LAY THE VAGUELY FAMILIAR LINEAMENTS OF THE LEADER OF THE HUNTERS WHO
HAD KILLED MERREVIA SAL. BY HUMAN MEASURE, IT HAD HAPPENED A LONG TIME AGO, FOR
HE HAD BEEN A YOUNG, STRONG, HALE MAN THEN. IT WAS DIFFICULT TO RECONCILE MY
MEMORY OF THAT FORCEFUL HUNTER WITH THE BLUSTERING, IMPATIENT CHIEF WHO
EXCORIATED THE TWO YOUNGER PEOPLE WHO ATTENDED ON HIM BECAUSE THEY DID NOT SEAT
HIM QUICKLY ENOUGH ON A PADDED COUCH SET BENEATH THE TEMPLE'S PORTICO. THEY
SUFFERED THE ABUSE WITHOUT BLINKING, ONLY ONCE EXCHANGING A GLANCE, AND THAT
GLANCE HELD ITS OWN RIPE TENSION LIKE TWO TIGERS STALKING THE SAME PREY.
MY BONES HUMMED. WHISPERS CHASED THROUGH MY HEAD AS THE WIND MOANED OVER THE
PEAK.

SHE IS YOUNGER THAN YOU, AND THE CHIEF LIKES HER BETTER BECAUSE HE THINKS SHE'S BOLDER
AND BRAVER. SHE INTENDS TO OUTLAST YOU AND HAVE YOU THROTTLED WHEN HE DIES.

HE DOESN'T TRUST YOU AND NEVER HAS. HE CONSIDERS YOU AN UPSTART, UNWORTHY, FICKLE, AND
HE'LL HAVE ONE OF HIS SPIES STAB YOU IN THE BACK THE MOMENT HE SEES AN OPPORTUNITY.

Art by: Bastien L. Deharme

A CLOUD BRIEFLY COVERED THE SUN, SHAKING MY MIND LOOSE FROM THESE VEXED
IMAGININGS.

FAR BELOW, A PRIESTESS WHOSE EYES HAD BEEN BURNED OUT VENTURED FORWARD FROM THE
DARK INTERIOR. SHE BROUGHT A CUP CARVED FROM DRAGON BONE. THE CUP HELD DRAGON'S
BLOOD, CONGEALED AND MUSTY, YET THE CHIEF DRANK IT DOWN WITH RELISH AND OFFERED
THE DREGS TO HIS TWO COMPANIONS. MORE PRIESTESSES HASTENED OUT TO WASH HIS
SWOLLEN FEET AND FLUSHED FACE.

"PROVE YOUR WORTH," HE SAID TO HIS COMPANIONS. "BRING ME THE HEAD OF THE DRAGON
MY BALLISTA WOUNDED."

BELLS RANG AND DRUMS CLAPPED. THE WARRIORS IN THE OUTER COURTYARD HOWLED WITH A
SCREECH THAT, EVEN FROM THIS DISTANCE, SHIVERED HORRIBLY THROUGH MY BONES. BONES
THAT THESE TERRIBLE HUMANS WISHED TO USE TO ADORN THEIR PALACES AND TEMPLES.

"IT'S CURIOUS, ISN'T IT?" SAID NICOL.

"WHAT'S CURIOUS IS WHY WE'RE STILL HERE WATCHING AND HAVEN'T FLOWN AWAY AFTER
OUR BROTHER."

"DON'T YOU FIND THIS ALL VERY ILLUMINATING? T HOSE TWO WHO ATTEND HIM SO
ASSIDUOUSLY ARE TWO OF HIS HEIRS."
"HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT?"

HE CHUCKLED AND DID NOT ANSWER. "SO WHERE ARE THE OTHER TWO HEIRS?"

"IN THE OTHER DRAGON-CROWNED SETTLEMENTS, SURELY."

"EXACTLY. THIS WILL BE EASY."

"WHAT WILL BE EASY?"

"HAVE YOU NOT SORTED OUT THE WEAKNESS IN THEIR PHILOSOPHY, UGIN? I'M DISAPPOINTED
IN YOU."

HE GAVE A THUNDERING ROAR AND LEAPED INTO THE SKY, WINGS SPREAD. HE WAS SO SURE I
WOULD FOLLOW HIM, AND I DID. CHROMIUM RHUELL MIGHT SPEAK SENSIBLY, BUT I HAD NO
REASON TO TRUST HIM MORE THAN I TRUSTED NICOL. HE WASN'T MY TWIN, AFTER ALL, JUST A
WINGBEAT SIBLING WHO WASN'T ANY TOO RESPECTFUL OF NICOL AND ME REGARDLESS. THAT
COMMENT ABOUT US TWO BEING "THE LEAST OF THE FALLEN" HAD STUNG ME TOO, EVEN IF IT
HAD BEEN MEANT FOR MY TWIN.

WE FLEW TOWARD THE FARTHEST FLUNG HEIR'S SETTLEMENT. MESSENGERS HAD BEEN SENT
OUT FROM THE CHIEF'S HOME COMPOUND DURING THE NIGHT. WHEN NICOL CAUGHT SIGHT OF
A YOUTH RUNNING AT A STEADY PACE IN THE SAME DIRECTION WE WERE HEADING, HE
SWOOPED DOWN, CAUGHT UP THE YOUTH IN HIS CLAWS AND, AS THE YOUNG HUMAN SCREAMED
AND STRUGGLED, BIT OFF HIS HEAD. WITH CASUAL DISREGARD, HE DROPPED THE BODY INTO
THE FOREST.

"NICOL! WAS IT NECESSARY TO TAKE THAT INNOCENT YOUTH'S LIFE?"

"HOW IS YOUR CLAW, UGIN? DOES IT STILL HURT? IS YOUR FLESH STILL NUMB? OR WOULD
YOU LIKE THE ENTIRE COUNTRYSIDE TO BE RAISED AGAINST US WHEN THESE MESSENGERS
REACH THEM?"

"WE CAN JUST FLY AWAY."

"AND LEAVE THEM TO KILL OTHER DRAGONS? TO SPREAD THEIR CUSTOMS AND KNOWLEDGE TO
OTHER HUMANOIDS? I THINK NOT. I AM DOING WHAT IS BEST FOR ALL OF US. ISN'T THAT WHAT
YOU WANT, TOO?"

IT WAS HARD TO ARGUE WITH MY FORELEG THROBBING.

BUILT ALONG A LAKESIDE, THE MOST DISTANT SETTLEMENT BOASTED ITS OWN MINIATURE
VERSION OF THE SQUARE TEMPLE, A MODEST CHIEF'S LONGHOUSE ADORNED WITH A DRAGON
SKULL, AND A PALISADE SEPARATING THE INNER COMPOUNDS OF THE FAVORED FROM THE
HUMBLE HUTS OF THE LOWLY. THE SHORE OF THE LAKE WAS LINED WITH RACKS AND RACKS OF
DRYING FISH SET OUT IN THE SUN, VATS OF FISH GUTS AND SALT FERMENTING WITH A REEK
THAT ROSE INTO THE HEAVENS.
THE PALISADE WAS SO NEW, THE SCARS OF ITS BUILDING STILL TORE THROUGH THE EARTH,
REVEALING FRAGILE ROOTS AND PLUMP PALE WORMS. THIS HEIR HAD A SINGLE BALLISTA
PLACED BY THE SETTLEMENT'S GATE, FACING THE ROAD AS IF HE WERE MORE CONCERNED WITH
HUMAN ENEMIES THAN DRAGON FLIGHTS. I FLEW OUT OVER THE LAKE, NOT WANTING TO GET
TOO CLOSE TO THE WEAPON'S VENOM-TIPPED BOLTS. NICOL SWEPT A WIDE CIRCLE AROUND THE
SETTLEMENT AND ITS FIELDS, MAKING SURE EVERYONE KNEW HE WAS THERE.

Art by: Svetlin Velinov

WHEN HORNS BLEW AND DRUMS POUNDED OUT THE ALERT, A YOUNG MAN DRESSED IN A
CRESTED HELMET STRODE OUT OF THE CHIEF'S LONGHOUSE. HE WAS TALL AND HANDSOME, HIS
ARMS AND NECK ADORNED WITH TWISTED GOLD JEWELRY THAT SHONE LIKE TRAPPED
SUNLIGHT. LIKE HIM, HIS WARRIORS WERE CLAD IN ARMOR MADE OF DRAGON SCALES. THESE
SCALES HAD ONCE BELONGED TO THE DRAGON HE HAD KILLED, I WAS SURE: THE SCALES
SHIMMERED WITH DELICATE GREEN TONES UNDER THE SUNLIGHT, GIVING THE WARRIORS A
LUMINOUS BEAUTY THEY HAD STOLEN FROM ONE OF US. THERE WAS SOMETHING
ANTICIPATORY AND YET INDECISIVE IN THE DRAGON-KILLER'S MANNER AS HE STARED UP AT
NICOL AS NICOL HAD ONCE STARED AT THE SUN.

WHAT WAS NICOL WAITING FOR? WHAT WAS HIS PLAN? HIS SLOW CIRCLING GLIDE HAD SUCH
A STRANGELY HYPNOTIC EFFECT THAT AS I HOVERED ON A HIGH UPDRAFT, I COULD NOT TEAR
MY EYES FROM THE CURIOUS TABLEAU, WONDERING WHAT WAS GOING TO HAPPEN.

THE DRUMS FELL SILENT AND THE HORNS QUIETED. A BREEZE TEASED ITS WAY THROUGH THE
BRANCHES. LAKE WATER LAPPED THE SHORE WITH SHORT SIGHS.

MY BONES HUMMED. WHISPERS CHASED IN MY HEAD IN A VOICE THAT SOUNDED LESS AND LESS
LIKE THE TWISTED MUTTERINGS OF A CURSED WIND AND MORE AND MORE LIKE NICOL.

THE OLD CHIEF HAS LIVED LONG PAST HIS PRIME. WHO IS HE TO DEMAND OBEDIENCE WHEN HE CAN
NO LONGER EVEN CAST A SPEAR ACCURATELY OR WITH ENOUGH FORCE TO KILL A DEER, MUCH LESS
A MAN, MUCH LESS A DRAGON? HE HAS RAISED THREE TO BE HIS FAVORED HEIRS WHILE HIS OWN
FIRSTBORN SON HE NEGLECTS, EVEN THOUGH THAT WORTHY SON HAS KILLED A DRAGON AT LONG
LAST AFTER SO MANY YEARS BEING MOCKED FOR HIS INSUFFICIENCIES. THE GODS GRANTED THEIR
FAVOR TO THE OLD MAN, EVERYONE AGREES. THAT FAVOR OUGHT TO PASS ON TO HIS SON,
SHOULDN'T IT? YET HE HAS BEEN PUSHED TO THE FARTHEST EDGE OF THE CHIEFDOM, FORCED TO
RULE OVER FISHERMEN AND LIVE AMID THE STINK.

WHAT IF SUCH A WORTHY SON HAS SOMETHING BETTER THAN A DRAGON'S SKULL AS HIS TROPHY?
WHAT IF HE HAS DRAGONS AT HIS COMMAND? KILLING A DRAGON IS A BOLD HUNTER'S DEED, OF
COURSE, NOT TO BE SCORNED. BUT FOR A DRAGON TO SERVE A HUMAN? NOW THAT IS THE
STANDARD OF A LEADER.

IT COULD BE YOUR MEASURE. IF YOU MARCH AGAINST THE OTHER HEIRS. IF YOU DEFEAT THEM, AND
KILL YOUR FATHER. A DRAGON COULD RESPECT SUCH A PERSON AS THAT, COULD HE NOT?

I WAS SLOW TO UNDERSTAND. TE JU KI'S CALM AND MEASURED TEACHINGS HAD FOUND A
HOME IN MY HEART; THEY MADE SENSE TO ME. EVEN WHEN THE YOUNG MAN MOBILIZED HIS
WARRIORS AND GAVE A MIGHTY SPEECH TO THEM ABOUT THE PORTENT OF THE DRAGONS AND
HOW THEY HAD SHOWN THEIR FAVOR BY FLYING OVERHEAD AND NOT BURNING THE
SETTLEMENT OR KILLING ANYONE, I DID NOT UNDERSTAND. EVEN WHEN THEY MARCHED OUT
WITH BRISK PURPOSE, HE MOUNTED ON A SPLENDID STEED WITH HIS SCALE-CLAD OFFICERS
BESIDE HIM, I DID NOT UNDERSTAND. I WAS CONVINCED THEY WERE GOING TO JOIN THE
OTHERS, TO MAKE COMMON CAUSE AGAINST US, EVEN WHEN SUCH A COURSE OF ACTION MADE
NO SENSE. WE TWO DRAGONS WERE THERE, RIGHT IN FRONT OF THEM. AGAIN AND AGAIN THE
CHIEF'S SON GESTURED TOWARD NICOL, WHO REMAINED ALOFT KEEPING A CAUTIOUS EYE UPON
THE BALLISTA BUT WITH HIS ATTENTION FOCUSED MOSTLY UPON THE CHIEF'S SON.

AS THE LAST OF THE FOOT SOLDIERS PASSED UNDER THE GATE, NICOL DROPPED DOWN TO THE
LONGHOUSE. HE RAKED HIS CLAWS ALONG ITS RIDGE BEAM, MARKING IT, AND ROARED, JUST
ONCE, LIKE A CHALLENGE OR A BENEDICTION. A GREAT ANSWERING CHEER ROSE FROM THE
RANKS. SINGING THEIR VIOLENT SONGS, THEY MARCHED AWAY TOWARD THE CENTRAL
SETTLEMENT.

NICOL FLEW OUT TO ME WHERE I HAD REMAINED HANGING BACK, OVER THE LAKE.

"NOW WE RETURN TO THE BIRTH MOUNTAIN," HE SAID.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" I DEMANDED.

"OH, UGIN, DO YOU STILL NOT UNDERSTAND? HUMANS ARE RIDDLED WITH HATE AND ENVY
AND FEAR AND GREED. THEY WILL EASILY DO OUR BIDDING. YOU JUST HAVE TO KNOW WHERE
TO STICK YOUR CLAW IN TO GET THE RESPONSE YOU WANT."

THE CHIEF'S SON MARCHED TO THE CENTRAL SETTLEMENT, NOW WITHOUT ITS GARRISON OF
FEARSOME WARRIORS, AND HE KILLED THE CHIEF'S SUPPORTERS AND INSTALLED HIMSELF ON
THE THRONE. MEANWHILE NICOL ROOSTED ATOP THE BIRTH MOUNTAIN AND WITH HIS
PRESENCE THERE LURED THE TWO HEIRS EACH WITH THEIR BAND OF WARRIORS HIGHER AND
HIGHER UP THE SLOPES, ROUND AND AROUND UNTIL THE TWO FACTIONS CAME FACE TO FACE
UPON A RUGGED FIELD OF ANCIENT LAVA. THERE THEY FOUGHT BITTERLY AMID THE SHARP
STONES, THE MIDDLE-AGED MAN AGAINST THE YOUNG WOMAN. WHILE THE TWO ARMIES
STRUGGLED, NICOL FLEW DOWN TO THE UNGUARDED TEMPLE AND BURNED IT AND ITS
ACOLYTES TO THE GROUND.

Art by: Chris Rallis

BUT HE LEFT THE BEWILDERED CHIEF ALIVE AMID THE CHARRED BONES AND BEAMS. HE PICKED
UP THE OLD MAN ALMOST TENDERLY IN HIS CLAWS AND FLEW WITH HIM TO THE FOURTH AND
FINAL SETTLEMENT WHERE THE CHIEF'S SECOND WIFE HAD SET UP AS ONE OF HIS HEIRS AFTER
SHE, TOO, HAD KILLED A DRAGON. SHE WAS THE MAGE WHO HAD FIRST ENSORCELLED VENOM.

WHEN NICOL GENTLY DEPOSITED THE OLD MAN ALONE AND UNPROTECTED IN HER
COURTYARD, SHE STRODE OUT. SHE WAS AN IMPRESSIVE WOMAN WITH THE SHINE OF
INTELLIGENCE IN HER FACE. HER BRAIDED HAIR, WRAPPED ATOP HER HEAD, WAS WREATHED
WITH PEARLS AND GEMS. ARMED ATTENDANTS KNELT BEFORE THE OLD CHIEF, WHO EVEN IN
HIS DISHEVELED AND TERRIFIED STATE BARKED ORDERS AT HER, DEMANDING A BATH AND
FOOD AND FRESH CLOTHING APPROPRIATE TO HIS EXALTED STATION.

MY BONES HUMMED. THE WHISPERS GREW LOUDER AND LOUDER.

HE WRESTED THE SECRET OF THE VENOM FROM YOU. HE SHARED IT WITH OTHERS AND STOLE WHAT
WAS YOUR RIGHT: TO SUCCEED HIM AS CHIEF BECAUSE YOU HAD THE CUNNING AND THE
INTELLIGENCE, NOT LIKE THE OTHER HEIRS, WHO MERELY BENEFITED FROM YOUR BRILLIANCE. YOU
ARE THE WORTHY ONE. YET THOSE TWO USURPERS WHO SIT BY HIS SIDE AND FLATTER HIM THINK
THEY DESERVE THE DRAGON KILLER'S BANNER, WHILE HIS FIRST WIFE'S PULING SON GRABS FOR
WHAT BELONGS TO YOU.

SHE SNAPPED HER FINGERS. HER ATTENDANTS JUMPED UP AND FORMED A RING AROUND HIM,
WITH THEIR WEAPONS POINTING NOT OUT, TO PROTECT HIM, BUT IN, TO THREATEN HIM.

"WHAT TREACHERY IS THIS?" HE CRIED. "YOU OWE EVERYTHING TO ME. I RAISED YOU FROM
THE SWAMP GRASS HUT WHERE YOU WERE BORN. I ALLOWED YOU TO LEARN FROM MY
CLEVEREST MAGES. YOU WILL BOW BEFORE ME AS IS FITTING."
SHE STALKED FORWARD AND PRESSED THE TIP OF HER DRAGON CLAW STAFF AGAINST HIS FACE
UNTIL, TREMBLING, HE FELL TO HIS KNEES BEFORE HER.

"YOU OLD FOOL! I RAISED MYSELF DESPITE YOU USING ME AS IF I WERE YOUR SLAVE. YOU
STOLE WHAT SHOULD BE MINE BY RIGHT."

SHE STABBED HIM ONCE, TWICE, AND THRICE, AND HAD HIS BLOODY, BLOATED BODY THROWN
INTO THE STINKING REFUSE OF A LATRINE.

"WE MARCH!" SHE CRIED TO HER PEOPLE. "THE UNWORTHY AND THE USURPERS WILL ALL BOW
BEFORE ME!"

YOU, MY JESKAI STUDENTS, HAVE NOT HEARD OF THE DRAGON-KILLERS' WAR. IT HAPPENED A
LONG TIME AGO AND IN A PLACE UNKNOWN TO YOU. NO ONE WROTE ITS HISTORY BECAUSE
WRITING DID NOT YET EXIST, AND THOSE WHO SURVIVED TOLD A DIFFERENT TALE THAN THE
ONE I AM TELLING YOU NOW. SO THE TRUTH OF THOSE EVENTS WAS LOST, EVEN TO THEIR
DESCENDANTS.

AS FOR ME, I CROUCHED ATOP THE BIRTH MOUNTAIN SHOCKED BY WHAT I WITNESSED BECAUSE
I DID NOT KNOW WHAT TO DO OR WHY THE HUMANS BEHAVED SO VIOLENTLY AND HORRIBLY
TO EACH OTHER. THE FIGHTING RAGED IN A STORM OF DESTRUCTION UNTIL ONLY THE WIFE AND
THE SON REMAINED, ENTRENCHED BEHIND HIGHER WALLS, THE REMNANTS OF THE OTHER TWO
HEIRS' ARMIES SPLIT BETWEEN THEM. THE FIELDS WENT UNTENDED. PEOPLE BEGAN TO STARVE.
THERE WAS NOTHING I COULD DO, OR AT LEAST THAT'S WHAT I KEPT THINKING, MY THOUGHTS
RUNNING IN CIRCLES AFTER CIRCLES AFTER CIRCLES.

UNTIL THE NIGHT, I WOKE FROM A TROUBLED SLEEP TO FIND NICOL GONE. I FLEW ON HIS
TRAIL, FOR ALL DRAGONS ARE ABLE TO FOLLOW THE EMBER-STREWN WAKE LEFT BY OUR KIND.
IT SEEMED HIS VOICE CAUGHT IN MY MIND AS IF HE WAS STILL SPEAKING TO ME.

"COME WITNESS THE END, UGIN. COME WITNESS THE BEGINNING."

IN THE CENTRAL SETTLEMENT, IN THE GRAND COURTYARD IN FRONT OF THE CHIEF'S

LONGHOUSE, TORCHES BURNED. NICOL PERCHED ATOP THE LONGHOUSE WITH HIS EYES
GLITTERING LIKE GEMS AGAINST THE NIGHT. I T WAS A STRANGE PIECE OF MAGIC THAT HE
COULD STRETCH ATOP THE ROOF BEAM WITHOUT HIS GREAT WEIGHT COLLAPSING THE
STRUCTURE, BUT WE DRAGONS HAVE MANY STRANDS OF MAGIC WOVEN INTO OUR BEING.

IN THE COURTYARD, THE CHIEF'S SON AND THE CHIEF'S SECOND WIFE FACED EACH OTHER. HOW
THEY HAD COME THERE, AND WHY THEY WERE BOTH UNARMED, I COULD NOT SAY, BUT THEY
LOOKED SO HANDSOME TOGETHER, LIKE THE FITTING END TO A ROMANTIC TALE.

"THIS DAY IS THE WEDDING OF THE HEIRS OF THE DRAGON KILLER, HE WHO FIRST SLEW ONE OF
THE DREAD BEASTS."

WHO SPOKE I DID NOT KNOW. MY EARS WERE CLOUDED, AND MY HEART WAS DARK WITH
FOREBODING.
"LET YOU CLASP HANDS WITH YOUR OATH."

SHE EXTENDED HER ARMS; HE MET HERS; THEIR FINGERS INTERTWINED.

"LET YOUR OATH BE SEALED WITH BLOOD."

THEY RELEASED EACH OTHER. THE TORCHLIGHT TWISTED SHADOW ACROSS THE SCENE AS
THEY EACH TOOK THE DRAGON CLAW OF THEIR REIGN, SHE THE STAFF AND HE A LONG KNIFE.
EACH PLUNGED THEIR CLAW INTO THE BREAST OF THE OTHER, AND THEY FELL TOGETHER AND,
SOAKED IN EACH OTHER 'S BLOOD, THEY DIED.

"THEY HAVE MADE THE PROPER SACRIFICE," SAID THE VOICE. IT WAS NICOL, RISING FROM THE
ROOF BEAM, HIS HORNS GLEAMING AND HIS EYES SHINING WITH A GLAMOR THAT DIZZIED ME.
"FOR NOW, YOU UNDERSTAND THE TRUTH OF DRAGON'S BLOOD. I RULE YOU NOW. I AM YOUR
TRUE LEADER. BOW BEFORE ME."

A VAST AND FEARFUL SIGH PASSED THROUGH THE ASSEMBLY. PEOPLE SANK TO THEIR KNEES,
PRESSING HANDS AGAINST FACES.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" I CRIED. "THIS ISN'T WHAT YOU LEARNED FROM ARCADES!"

"OF COURSE IT'S WHAT I LEARNED FROM ARCADES," HE SAID, TURNING TO LOOK AT ME.

DEEP IN HIS CORUSCATING GAZE I CAUGHT A GLIMPSE OF THE BROTHERS WITH THE WAGON,
BACK IN ARCADES'S ORDERLY REALM, WORKING IN AMITY. THAT PEACE HAD BEEN SHATTERED
BY THE ABRUPT UPWELLING OF A LONG-BURIED GRUDGE BECAUSE NICOL HAD STUCK A CLAW
OF DOUBT AND ENVY INTO A VULNERABLE HEART. THE MAN, SO STRICKEN, HAD SUCCUMBED
TO A WHISPER THAT ROUSED THE WORST IN HIM.

Murder | Art by: Tyler Jacobson

"UGIN, YOU KNOW I AM RIGHT," MY TWIN SAID SOFTLY, BEGUILINGLY, HIS VOICE SO GENTLE A
PRESSURE, SO PERSUASIVE, SO CREDIBLE IN ITS ARGUMENT. "NOW THAT WE GRASP THE MAGIC,
THERE IS NOTHING THAT WILL STOP US FROM BUILDING A GREATER CHIEFDOM, FROM
SPREADING OUR RULE, FROM GETTING OUR REVENGE ON VAEVICTIS AND HIS SURLY BROTHERS,
FROM PUTTING OUR SIBLINGS IN THEIR PLACE. LEAST OF THE FALLEN! THEY 'LL SEE. WE'LL
SHOW THEM, WON'T WE? WE'LL NO LONGER BE LEAST. THEY'LL BOW BEFORE US. YOU KNOW
IT'S WHAT YOU WANT. THE POWER CAN BE OURS. IT WILL BE OURS."

BUT POWER WASN'T WHAT I WANTED. HE DIDN'T UNDERSTAND ME AT ALL. HE DIDN'T EVEN
CARE TO UNDERSTAND ME. ALL HE CARED ABOUT WAS GETTING WHAT HE WANTED, NO MATTER
THE COST TO THOSE AROUND HIM. NO MATTER THE COST TO ME.

AH! WHAT A PAIN FLOWERED IN MY HEARTS, A CASCADE OF SEARING SHOCK AND BETRAYAL.

MY BROTHER, MY TWIN.

IT'S BAD ENOUGH THAT HE HAD SO CALLOUSLY, SO GLEEFULLY, TORN THROUGH THE MINDS OF
THESE HUMANS TO GET WHAT HE WANTED FROM THEM.

I UNDERSTOOD THAT NOW, BUT HE INTENDED TO VIOLATE MY MIND, TOO.

MY BROTHER, MY TWIN.

HE MEANT TO ROUSE THE WORST IN ME, BECAUSE HE HAD SUCCUMBED TO THE WORST IN
HIMSELF, AND HE WANTED TO DRAG ME DOWN WITH HIM.

NO, IT WAS WORSE EVEN THAN THAT.

HE WANTED TO USE ME FOR HIS OWN ENDS, BECAUSE HE HAD NEVER TRULY CARED FOR ME AT
ALL.

THE BOND WE SHARED. THE TRUST WE HELD IN EACH OTHER. IT WAS EMPTY, BROKEN, FALSE.

A HARSH, HOT SPARK BURST IN MY HEART AND IN MY HEAD. MY FLESH BURNED AS IF

INCINERATED AND CHARRED.

A SCOURING WIND WHIRLED DOWN FROM INSIDE AND OUTSIDE THE HEAVENS AND DRAGGED ME
INTO A TERRIFYING STORM OF DARKNESS WHERE I COULD NOT EVEN DRAW BREATH AND FELT
MY LUNGS BEING CRUSHED BY A WEIGHT OF DREAD. A FORCE TWISTED MY BODY AS IF TRYING
TO TURN ME INSIDE OUT. FOR AN INSTANT, MY MIND WENT BLANK, UNSEEING, UNFEELING, AND
THEN WITH A WRENCH, I CAME BACK TO MYSELF.

TO MY ASTONISHMENT, I FOUND MYSELF FLOATING ABOVE A FEATURELESS SEA, SO FLAT AND

STILL I COULD SEE MY OWN REFLECTION IN THE WATER: MY HORNS, MY SCALES, MY EYES LIKE
TWIN SPARKS BURNING BRIGHT. I DRIFTED IN BEWILDERMENT, RENDED BY THE GRIEF OF LOSING
THE BROTHER I HAD TRUSTED AND STUPEFIED BY THE SHEER JARRING ASTONISHMENT OF BEING
TORN FROM THE ONLY PLACE I HAD NEVER KNOWN AND FLUNG INTO THE SPACE BETWEEN THE
PLANES.
FOR I UNDERSTOOD THEN THAT TE JU KI HAD TAUGHT ME THE TRUTH, THAT SHE HAD SEEN
THIS PLACE IN A VISION. SHE WAS PHYSICALLY FRAIL, TIED TO THE SOIL OF HER HOME, BUT HER
MIND COULD RANGE WHERE HER BODY AND MAGIC COULD NOT GO.

SHE THOUGHT NO ONE COULD CROSS BETWEEN WORLDS, BUT NOW I WAS THERE, WALKING
BETWEEN THE PLANES SHE HAD TOLD ME ABOUT.

WITH THAT THOUGHT LIKE AN ANCHOR, I FELL AS A SHOOTING STAR FALLS: HELPLESSLY,
BURNING UP, OBLITERATED BY ITS PASSAGE.

WHEN I WOKE AGAIN IN MY BODY, I STOOD HERE, AWAKE, AFRESH, ALIVE, ON TARKIR. AND I
FELT THE LAND WELCOME ME, AS IF I HAD FINALLY COME HOME.

NICOL HAD BEEN RIGHT AFTER ALL: I HAD WITNESSED THE END, AND THIS WAS MY NEW
BEGINNING.

Tae Jin broke off. Thunder boomed overhead, trembling through the rock. The wind's whine
had picked up to a higher, more frantic pitch.

"And then what happened?" Naiva demanded.

Grandmother raised a hand to remind her that Fec, Rakhan, and Sorya were sleeping so they
could take a later watch. In a low voice, she said, "You may go on with the story, Tae Jin."

He shook his head. "That's all I know. The scroll I memorized ends there."

Scroll of the Masters | Art by: Lake Hurwitz

Naiva groaned. Baishya pressed her hands against her mouth.

Grandmother nodded with her usual calm, firelight flickering on her face so she seemed a
spirit from the past fading into a measureless gloom. "So. It seems we are being called to
Ugin's grave to finish the story."

"What is left to tell?" asked Tae Jin. "Is the story not about how the Spirit Dragon came to
Tarkir?"

"Eighteen years ago, I witnessed a battle in the sky that ended with the death of Ugin. That
battle ended the Tarkir I knew. That battle set all the clans on a new path, a new beginning.
There was another dragon in the storm that day."

"There must have been many dragons. The tempests birth dragons."

"This was no tempest-born dragon. This dragon vanished in a flash of golden light, like a
second sun. It did not fly away. It was simply there, and then not there."

Crux of Fate | Art by: Michael Komarck

"That's impossible," said Naiva.

Naiva had never seen Grandmother look so grave, and she was a woman who rarely smiled.

"Not impossible if there are other planes and a few powerful individuals who can walk
between those planes, passing from one world to the next as we might cross a stream on
stepping stones."

"It's so hard to believe it could be true," said Baishya softly.

"I certainly did not believe it when the knowledge was first revealed to me," said
Grandmother with a stern look for Naiva. "I made a terrible mistake at that time. A voice
spoke to me, telling me I acted for the good of the clans. But I was merely a tool used by a
power greater than myself. That dragon, called Bolas, killed Ugin. I saw the Spirit Dragon's
body in the chasm. I heard his last breath, felt the cessation of his spirit. But the hedrons cast
by a Planeswalker named Sarkhan Vol held a magic I did not understand then and am only
coming to comprehend. Some essence of Ugin still survives, however frail and faint it may
be. It can be no coincidence that Ugin is struggling to reach us now. The visions are a
warning."

"A warning against what?" Naiva asked.

Tae Jin echoed, "Against what, Yasova Dragonclaw? The worst already happened when the
dragonlords outlawed our clans and our khans and our knowledge of the ancestors."

"Maybe that is not the worst that can happen," said Grandmother.

Thunder crashed again, and this time muffled howls and roars echoed back. A shudder rolled
through the ground as if a huge weight had just dropped onto the earth. Fec opened his eyes
and sat up. He shook awake Rakhan and Sorya, and they all grabbed their weapons.

A scuff sounded from the tunnel. Naiva grabbed her spear and settled into a crouch by the
opening. The click of a ptarmigan's call announced the presence of one of their own. She
stepped back as Mattak emerged into the chamber with a knife in hand.

"First Mother, you'd best come see."

CHRONICLE OF BOLAS: BLOOD AND

FIRE
No one gave Naiva permission to leave the rock shelter and creep out into the heart of a
dragon tempest, but she didn't ask. She grabbed her spear and raced out the tunnel, emerging
into an overhang partially screened by the surrounding boulders. Wind blasted her face with
slivers of ice. The air prickled at her skin, making her hair rise.

At dusk most of the sky had been clear, stars a scintillating presence overhead. Now when
she peeked out from under the rock, she saw nothing but darkness. The howls and shrieks of
newly birthed dragons deafened her as the tempest raged overhead.

Lightning split into a hundred jagged lines that revealed dragons falling and flying in a
ceaseless agitation like children at brutish play or warriors in relentless battle. Churning
clouds crackled with energy. The blackness engulfed her again.

A shape leaped down off the rocks and ducked in beside her. By the smell of wet fur, she
knew it was the quiet ainok, Darka.

"Where is First Mother?" he said.

"Here!" Grandmother pushed out beside Naiva.

Lightning flashed. A burst of hot rain slammed through, hissing as it struck the ground.
Sparks danced on the air.

"Trouble!" he called. "She's here!"

What she did the ainok mean? Naiva wondered.

Lightning flashed in a long chain of bolts that traced a path across the entire arc of the
heavens. It splintered into a vast architecture of antlers wreathed in fire. A roar like the crash
of a hundred thunderclaps drove Naiva to her knees, where she gasped for breath. Darka also
fell, barely catching himself on a hand. Only Grandmother remained upright, unbowed,
grasping her staff.

Fearsome Awakening | Art by: Véronique Meignaud

"She's found the dead broodling." Her shout was barely audible in the tumult.

Limned with an unearthly aura of that same malevolent light, the huge dragon rose out of the
boulders where the broodling had fallen and flew into the heart of the storm. Slashing and
raging, she drove the fledglings deeper into the night. Streaks of lightning marked her path.
Thunder crackled in her wake.

The wind's scream lessened to a rumbling bluster. The rain sheeting down faded to a light
mist. A patch of stars appeared high above the maelstrom.

A flash of golden light flared like the sun rising at zenith, but the brightness was extinguished
as quickly as it had appeared, leaving the stars again to shine. Yet some of those stars
vanished in a descending trail, blotted out and then reappearing in a trail as if a large shape
was falling out of the heavens. Naiva rubbed her eyes, thinking the storm had injured her
vision, but when she looked again all the stars shone steadily. The clouds began clearing off
as the rain ceased. Surely the falling blot had been nothing more than a distortion of wind and
churning cloud.

The promise of coming dawn bled a trickle of light into the air, enough that the shapes of
boulders came into view against the dark sky. Fec emerged from the passage and halted to
inhale deeply.

"The tempest is gone," he said.

Grandmother nodded in her decisive way. "Make ready. Call Oiyan in. We'll move out as
soon as there's light enough."

"Won't we be visible, easy prey, if Atarka returns?" Naiva asked.

"She'll drive the fledglings back to Ayagor and take them hunting," said Grandmother grimly.
"That's the only skill she cares about."

"What about the offal? Are we leaving it behind after all the trouble you took to cut it out of
the dragon?"

"The river will keep it cold. We'll fetch it later. It's not safe now."

"When will it be safe?" Naiva asked irritably.

"Safe merely means the last dragon we've seen is flying away from us." Grandmother looked
toward the east, where the horizon was shifting to a shimmering gold. "Fec, you take point.
The rest of us will follow as soon as we're ready. Tae Jin and Baishya, you stay close to me.
Naiva, go with Fec."

"But Grandmother—" Naiva broke off when she saw Tae Jin's look of surprise that she had
the temerity to protest a command from her elder. Baishya caught her eye and shook her head
reprovingly.

She slouched forward to join the old orc. Why did Grandmother always keep Baishya beside
her when Naiva was the better hunter and could protect her if anything went wrong? It just
wasn't fair.

"Young Naiva joins me today, with keen, quick eyes to shade my age-whitened orbs," said
Fec as they headed out through the jumble of boulders. His limp was pronounced, but he used
his staff skillfully, like a third leg, to negotiate the uneven ground.

"Yes, thank you, we should be quiet and no talking."

His laugh rumbled softly. "You'd rather be walking beside the handsome young stranger."

Not for the first time she wished she had Baishya's calm facade or Grandmother's stern mask,
but her feelings bled onto her whole body. She tried to close down her expression, to look
strong and dispassionate, but she was sure Fec was silently laughing at her, although he
probably wasn't paying attention to her at all. As they came out of the boulders onto the open
tundra, his gaze roved in the way of an experienced hunter who knows how to read the land
for signs of game: broken stalks of grass, prints sunk into the ground, a carcass stripped to the
bone, fresh scat. No matter how she tried to focus, her thoughts kept swirling back to her
grievance. It wasn't fair that Grandmother protected Baishya while she got stuck with a half-
crippled orc who mocked her and didn't even belong to the clan. Just because Grandmother
said he was one of them now didn't make it true. She kicked a rock onto a shallow puddle.
The rock cracked the skin of ice on the water and sank out of sight.
He glanced her way. "Speak your mind, young Naiva. Better not to choke on words that
should be loosed like arrows."

Very well. She was up to the challenge!

"Why did Grandmother shelter you?"

"Shelter a half-crippled orc, do you mean? Yasova always has her reasons."

"What answers does Grandmother really think we can find at Ugin's grave? What kind of
answers do dead things have, except for signs that tell us how they were killed?"

"Not everything that is dead is gone, or absent. The ancestors still have tales to tell us."

"Atarka killed my mother for speaking to the ancestors. It's better to let the dead go and
concentrate on the hunt."

"Better for the dragonlords. Maybe not better for us who must serve them rather than rule
ourselves as we once did."

"Talk like that will get you eaten, if it comes to Atarka's notice."

"Will you tell her?" His tone dared her.

"If it means saving the tribe, I will."

But the thought of turning him over to Atarka grated. He wasn't wrong for pointing out that
the rule of the dragonlords was harsh and uncompromising, that it made the people more like
servants than proud hunters. She did not want to become one of those spineless tale-tellers
who scraped and wheedled in Ayagor to try to win the favor of Atarka, as if the dragon cared
anything for her mortal subjects except that they brought her meat and more meat.

Dragon Whisperer | Art by: Chris Rallis

"Is forbidden talk what got you kicked out of your tribe?" she asked.
"What you call forbidden talk I would call truth-telling. But that is not why, young one." He
pointed to his dragging right leg. "In the Kolaghan clan those who cannot keep up are left
behind."

"Then why didn't you accept death? Wouldn't that have been more honorable?"

"There are many roads to honor. Many ways to fight, even if my tribe does not recognize
their worth." He tapped his brow with fore- and middle fingers. Unlike the humans, he
needed no gloves because the tough skin of his hands withstood the worst cold. A network of
thin scars wove a harsh pattern across the back of each hand, the mark of no claw she had
ever seen. Maybe it was just how orcs got old, like age spots on the hands of wizened elders
kept alive by their sentimental children. "Many things worth saving, as Yasova Dragonclaw
knows well."

"You know that word is not allowed!"

"If we do not use it, then the young will forget."

"It's better to discard what we can't use. Atarka rules us now, not the dragonclaw, not a khan.
Even though we don't like it, that's just how it is."

He gestured across his throat, cutting her off. Humiliated by his high-handedness toward
her—Yasova's granddaughter!—she flushed. If only she were a dragon. She would burn him.
Burn him.

But he hadn't been reacting to her words. His tongue licked the air. His back stiffened. He
stuck the staff into a loop along his back and tugged free both swords with a swift motion
whose efficiency impressed her. Made of brass, they were the most valuable objects he
possessed, although they did not have nearly as sharp a cutting edge as the obsidian weapons
used by the rest of the tribe.

"Naiva, run quickly back. They must hide in the shelter."

Her anger poured away like rain off her felt mantle. She swung around to look for danger.

A vast darkness sped toward them, monstrous and silent. Only one creature possessed such a
frightening spread of spiky, glowing antlers. Naiva sprinted back toward the boulders, but
although she was young and fleet, she was not a dragonlord. Atarka's huge form passed over
her in a wash of shadow and heat. The dragon slammed down to earth right at the edge of the
boulders. The ground shook. Naiva stumbled, catching herself on her forward hand, then
leaped back up and kept running.

But it was too late. The dragonlord had caught Grandmother and the others a spear's toss
away from the outermost boulders and placed herself between them and the safety of the
rocks. Naiva slowed to a walk. She knew better than to move quickly. Atarka might look
ungainly but nothing moved faster than the dragonlord when her ire was roused.
The dragon's growl rolled as loudly as the avalanche that had torn away half the snow field
on Eternal Ice. With a long, hot hiss, she reached out and closed her claws around Darka.

"A tasty snack!" she rumbled. "Almost as good as bear."

The ainok did not struggle or beg; he was too proud, and there was no point anyway.

Grandmother strode forward and tapped her spear on the dirt three times, demanding to be
seen. Never would she bow. Never would she cringe. "Atarka! For eighteen years my people
have brought you meat in honor of our agreement. I have something better and more
substantial for you than a skinny ainok."

The great eyes blinked. Sour scorching breath gusted over them. "How did my broodling die?
He was my favorite."

Naiva doubted that any of the broodlings were Atarka's favorite but the dragon was a wily,
greedy beast.

Grandmother said, "The fledglings must have killed him."

"The fledglings scented his blood and went to feast. They did not kill him." She bit off
Darka's head before tossing his body in a high arc. It fell out of sight but close to the spot
where, Naiva knew, the carcass of the broodling lay. His death sickened her, but they all
faced death every day. At least his had come quickly.

"Tell truth or I eat the other ainok," Atarka rumbled, lowering herself closer to Yasova. "Did
you kill him?"

Grandmother did not move, keeping herself between the dragon and Darka's kinsman,
Rakhan. "I did not kill the broodling. But as I was saying before you wasted the meat of my
ainok, we have killed you something better."

"Better than ainok flesh?"

"Much better. One of Ojutai's kin killed your broodling and fed on its innards. We avenged
your broodling's death by killing the outsider. A dragon for your next feast!"

Atarka raised her head and tested the air. The pungent odor of the tempest still lingered,
woven in with the smell of grass, of dirt, of drying blood and old rock.
 Dragonlord Atarka | Art by: Karl Kopinski

"Show me."

Grandmother gestured for the others to remain behind and started walking, alone, toward the
distant scatter of boulders where the broodling had deposited the dead Ojutai dragon. Atarka
slammed a foreclaw down on the ground in front of the old woman.

"All come. All." A huff of sparks steamed up from her nostrils. "I know your tricks. I will eat
all if I am not satisfied."

Grandmother signaled with a hand for them to fall in line behind her.

Naiva kept her back rigid and her gaze ahead; every child was taught never to challenge a
dragon by looking them directly in the eyes but also never to cringe submissively or run
away. It was better to die than to cringe. She let the others pass, exchanging a glance with
Baishya. Her twin hesitated, making ready to fall back with her, but Naiva gestured for her to
go ahead. Only when everyone else had gone ahead did she fall in at the end of the line.
Nothing but air separated her from Atarka. The dragonlord paced behind them, each footfall
an earthquake. When the dragon exhaled, sparks swirled past her body. It was so hard not to
glance behind, not that a look would save her. One swipe, one blast, and she'd be dead,
obliterated, but she wanted to do as Grandmother would do. She wanted to prove herself
worthy of being Yasova Dragonclaw's granddaughter: undaunted, a living shield between
danger and the tribe.

Her sense of the world around her expanded: each step might be her last, each intake of
breath her final measure, each heartbeat the end. Tae Jin glancing back at her; Baishya's
shallow breathing; Rakhan's stifled grief; the other hunters silent and alert, ready for anything
even if that anything was the death that awaited all in the end.

But Atarka let them live, or maybe she had crueler sports in mind to play with her hostages.
They lived on her sufferance. The dragonlords were more powerful than the old ways, so
what was the point of cherishing the ancestors when they had been crushed and defeated? If
they had been worthy, surely they would have won.
Unexpectedly, Atarka leaped upward and with a howl of glee flew in a quick hop over them
to drop down beside the body of the Ojutai dragon. The slender dragon was badly torn up
after the titanic battle, but they all braced themselves as Atarka snuffled around the body and
inhaled a taste of his congealed blood. Would she realize no human weapons had cut the
body?

She whipped her tail back and forth to force the hunting party up against a boulder, trapping
them there. Thinking of their mother, Naiva placed herself in front of Baishya, but the
dragon's gaze fell not on the inheritor of their mother's shamanic gifts but on Tae Jin.
Fortunately, the mended tunic covered his ghostfire tattoo, but his facial features and shaved
head marked him as different from the other humans.

She huffed several times. "What is this outsider?"

Grandmother took a step toward the dragon. "He belongs to my hunting party."

"Fah! He smells of Ojutai, that pompous, ice-breathing windbag."

Tae Jin took a step forward, lifting his arms, palms up, and bringing his forearms together in
the gesture that would birth the ghostfire blade in his hands.

"Tae Jin! Do not begin that which you cannot end." No one crossed Grandmother. As he
obediently lowered his arms to his side, she returned her attention to the dragonlord. "He has
come to join us because he heard of your great stature and ferocity, Atarka. What use for a
brave warrior is it to serve a pompous, ice-breathing windbag when he can hunt in the service
of a true dragon like you?"

Atarka rumbled, her head swaying mesmerically back and forth as she considered first the
carcass and then the slight young man. "He looks not sturdy enough to hunt for me."

"A hunter may also succeed by being clever."

Tae Jin took a step forward. "I am useful in other ways, great Atarka. For example, I can tell
you many stories."

"Words bore me. They are not tasty like meat." She swung her lambent gaze back to
Grandmother. "You may watch while I eat him alongside this Ojutai dragon."

"As you wish, Atarka. But consider this. Ojutai himself sent his own favored broodling to
hunt down the man. He did not wish the man to leave his domain and serve another, greater
dragonlord. You win a victory over Ojutai by keeping this man alive in your tribe when
Ojutai wants him dead."

Atarka's cruel laughter washed over them like an icy bath. "I like that. Tell a story while I
feast. Then I decide."
Grandmother looked at Tae Jin. Undaunted, he walked forward to stand beside the old
woman.

"I will tell a story my mother told me when I was a boy. She learned it from her master."

As the great dragon began ripping into the smaller dragon's cooling flesh, Tae Jin began to
speak.

A VERY, VERY LONG TIME AGO, THERE RULED A KING OF GREAT BENEFICENCE, GREATER THAN
ANY OTHER KING IN ALL THE LAND. THIS KING WAS A DRAGON OF PARTICULAR WISDOM AND
STRENGTH. ONCE CALLED THE LEAST OF HIS SIBLINGS, NICOL HAD TRAVELED THE CONTINENT
OF HIS BIRTH WITH HIS BROTHER UGIN TO DISCOVER THE TRUTH OF THE WORLD. BUT ALAS, THE
TRUTH WAS HARSH. THE WORLD WAS HARSH. VIOLENCE AND MURDER ERUPTED EVEN IN THE
MOST ORDERLY OF HUMANOID REALMS, EVEN WHEN THERE WAS PLENTY OF SPACE FOR ALL
WHERE VEGETATION GREW LUSHLY AND BEASTS ROAMED IN ABUNDANCE.

TROUBLED AND DISTRAUGHT BY THIS REVELATION, THE YOUNG DRAGON JOURNEYED TO THE
MOUNTAIN OF HIS BIRTH WITH HIS BROTHER. HE WASN'T SURE WHAT HE SOUGHT BUT HOPED TO
DISCOVER ENLIGHTENMENT. A FAR MORE TERRIBLE PROSPECT GREETED HIM WHEN AT LAST HE
REACHED THE ANCIENT PEAK.

THE HUMANS WHO LIVED BELOW THE BRIGHT RADIANCE OF THE BIRTH MOUNTAIN HAD
ELEVATED A KILLER AS THEIR CHIEF, AND HIS HEIRS WERE ALSO KILLERS.

DRAGON KILLERS.

Atarka raised her head, sinew and flesh dripping from her jaws, and fixed a hot, golden gaze
upon Tae Jin. The air snapped with anticipation. He had her attention now, and that was not a
good thing.
 Student of Ojutai | Art by: Jason A. Engle

He rubbed at his eyes, shook his head as if to clear it, and muttered, "That isn't the story I
meant to tell. Let me try again."

WITH VILE SORCERY THE CHIEF AND HIS HEIRS PREYED UPON DRAGONS, CARING NOTHING FOR
THE NOBLE SUPERIORITY OF THE MAGNIFICENT ONES. THESE FEEBLE HUMANS FED ON THE
BLOOD AND BONE OF THOSE GREATER THAN THEMSELVES, HOPING TO STEAL THAT STRENGTH.
WITH SPEAR AND SORCERY, THE CHIEF CRUSHED HIS SUBJECTS UNDER HIS HEEL. THOSE WHO
PLEASED AND FLATTERED HIM PROSPERED, AND THOSE WHO WERE CAUGHT WHISPERING
TREASON UNDER THEIR BREATH DIED. THOSE WHO COULD NOT FIGHT LABORED HUNGRILY IN
THE FIELDS TO FEED HIM. THE HEALTHY AND STRONG WERE GIVEN SPEARS AND WHIPS WITH
WHICH TO THRASH THE REBELLIOUS AND THE STRANGER INTO SUBMISSION. AS THE YEARS
PASSED, THE CHIEF CAME TO RULE MORE PEOPLE AND EXTEND HIS SWAY OVER MORE OF THE
LAND. THE GREEDY PROSPERED, AND THE WEAK GROANED UNDER THE BURDEN OF THEIR
ENDLESS TOIL.

BUT DRAGONS DO NOT SUFFER SUCH INDIGNITIES FOR LONG. SUCH AN AFFRONT MUST BE
ANSWERED. WHEN THE YOUNG DRAGON ARRIVED AT THE BIRTH MOUNTAIN AND SAW THE
INJUSTICE AND ABUSE BEING METED OUT TO THE VULNERABLE, HE KNEW HE MUST ACT. IT IS
TRUE HIS BROTHER WAS NOT AS BOLD ; HE CAVILED ; HE HESITATED. BUT TO DO NOTHING TO
AVENGE THE DEATH OF ONE'S KIN IS THE SAME AS KILLING THEM YOURSELF.

OUTNUMBERED AND UNABLE TO MATCH THE CRUEL SORCERY OF THE HUMANS, THE YOUNG
DRAGON OUTWITTED THE HUMANS INSTEAD. WITH MATCHLESS CUNNING, HE SET THE HEIRS
AGAINST EACH OTHER SO THAT THEY FOUGHT ONE AGAINST THE NEXT UNTIL ALL LOST THE
WAR FOR SUCCESSION. IN THE COURSE OF THE WAR, HIS BROTHER WAS SWEPT AWAY INTO
NOTHINGNESS BY A BLAST OF HUMAN SORCERY, THEIR OWN CLAW OF REVENGE. BUT THE
DRAGON TRIUMPHED. DRAGONS ALWAYS TRIUMPH FOR THAT IS THEIR NATURE, TO RISE ABOVE
ALL.
IN PLACE OF THE BRUTAL CHIEF, THE YOUNG DRAGON WAS ACCLAIMED AS SAVIOR OF THE
REALM AND OFFERED THE THRONE. THOSE WHO HAD ONCE WORSHIPED THE DRINKER OF
DRAGON'S BLOOD NOW BOWED BEFORE THE DRAGON. HE RULED ACCORDING TO THE PRECEPTS
HE HAD DISCUSSED AT LENGTH WITH HIS BROTHER, FOR THEY WERE EVER EAGER TO
UNDERSTAND THE WORLD'S SCOPE AND HEART. HE KNEW THAT HE COULD BEST HONOR THE
MEMORY OF HIS BELOVED BROTHER BY ACTING AS HE WOULD HAVE DONE, AS HE WOULD HAVE
URGED HIS BROTHER TO DO.

SO IT WAS THAT HE REIGNED JUSTLY AND FAIRLY, WITH ORDER AND PEACE, FOR MANY
GENERATIONS.

Atarka spat out a claw, having just gulped down a large hank of leg.

"This is not a story!" she growled. "Where is the hunting? Where is the blood and the
shattered bone?"

Tae Jin pressed his hands together and tilted his head forward to show respect. "Great Atarka,
please let me continue and you will be satisfied."

"Or I will eat you." Lashing her massive tail, she lowered her head to continue feeding.

"In the last days of Shu Yun's leadership," he said, then faltered. His mouth shaped words but
no sound came out. Again, he pressed fingers to his eyes as if his vision was failing him.
After a moment of struggle his lips opened as if of their own accord, and he went on.

SO IT WAS THAT THE YOUNG DRAGON WHO BECAME KNOWN AS THE SECOND SUN. HE REIGNED
JUSTLY AND FAIRLY, WITH ORDER AND PEACE. THE TALE OF THE FALL OF THE DRAGON KILLER'S
DISHONORABLE RULERSHIP WAS HANDED DOWN FROM ELDER TO CHILD, GENERATION TO
GENERATION, AND CELEBRATED WITH A YEARLY FESTIVAL OVER WHICH THE BENEVOLENT
DRAGON KING PRESIDED.

BUT ENVY BREEDS DRAGONS, AND THUS DRAGONS MULTIPLIED IN THE LANDS BEYOND THE
HARMONIOUS KINGDOM. THE KING WAS BUT ONE DRAGON, HIS KINGDOM MODEST. HE HELD HIS
BORDER STRONG AND SAFE FOR HIS SUBJECTS FOR AS LONG AS HE COULD.

ONE DAY, A RAMPAGE OF DRAGONS RAIDED THROUGH THE PEACEFUL SETTLEMENTS ALONG
THE RIVER THAT SEPARATED THE HARMONIOUS KINGDOM FROM THE PLAINS TERRITORIES AND
BADLANDS WHERE PALLADIA-MORS HAD LONG HUNTED.
AT ONCE, HE HURRIED TO MEET THIS THREAT, FLYING OVER A LINE OF BURNED VILLAGES AND
FRANTIC REFUGEES FLEEING THE CARNAGE. HE FOUND SEVEN LARGE, LOUD DRAGONS
MUNCHING NOISILY THROUGH A STOCKYARD OF TERRIFIED, STAMPEDING BEASTS. THE
MARAUDERS MERELY GLANCED AT HIM CIRCLING ABOVE BEFORE GOING BACK TO THEIR FEAST.
SUCH INSOLENCE WOULD BE REWARDED AS IT DESERVED!

HE BLASTED FLAME IN A RING AROUND THEM, NOT TO TRAP THEM—SINCE THEY COULD EASILY
FLY OUT—BUT TO GET THEIR ATTENTION.

"WHY DO YOU TROUBLE MY BLAMELESS SUBJECTS AND EAT THEIR VALUABLE HERDS?" HE
DEMANDED.

"WE ARE THE DESCENDANTS OF VAEVICTIS ASMADI AND MAY RAID WHERE WE WISH!" THEY
CRIED, LASHING THEIR TAILS AND BRANDISHING THEIR CLAWS.

"WHAT HAPPENED TO PALLADIA-MORS?" HE ASKED, HONESTLY AMAZED THAT LESSER

DRAGONS COULD CHASE OFF HIS SAVAGE SISTER.

"WE DROVE HER OFF TO GO HUNTING ELSEWHERE. NOW WE WILL DRIVE YOU OFF AND TAKE
YOUR RICH LANDS AND DOCILE MEAT FOR OURSELVES."

LIKE THEIR PROGENITORS, THEY WERE BELLIGERENT AND SMALL-MINDED. YET EVEN A
DRAGON AS MAGNIFICENT AS HIMSELF COULD NOT DEFEAT THEM ALONE. BUT HE WAS NOT
ALONE. HE HAD SUBJECTS WHO SANG HIS PRAISES WITH POEMS THAT ASKED FOR NO HIGHER
HONOR THAN A CHANCE TO PROVE THEMSELVES WORTHY OF HIS REGAL GENEROSITY AND
NOBLE PERSPICACITY. HE HAD ARMIES OF EAGER WARRIORS AND AN ACADEMY PACKED WITH
CLEVER SORCERERS HE HAD TAUGHT, ALL SEEKING TO CHALLENGE THEIR SKILLS AGAINST THE
MIGHTIEST OF FOES. HE POSSESSED THE WEAPONS OF THE LONG-DEAD DRAGON KILLERS.

Art by: Yongjae Choi

AN IRRITATING FLASH OF THOUGHT CRACKLED IN HIS MIND WITH THE TIMBRE OF UGIN'S VOICE
SCOLDING HIM: IF IT IS WRONG TO KILL DRAGONS WHEN THE HUMANOIDS DO IT, THEN IT IS WRONG
FOR US TO KILL OUR KINFOLK. OR DID MERREVIA SAL DIE FOR NOTHING, NICOL? WAS IT NEVER
ABOUT HER AT ALL BUT ONLY ABOUT THE HUMILIATION YOU FELT AT NOT SAVING HER?
THEIR SISTER'S DEATH AND THE VENGEANCE HE'D TAKEN HAD BEEN DIFFERENT, NOT THAT
UGIN HAD THE WIT OR DISCERNMENT TO ACKNOWLEDGE THIS TRUTH. AND ANYWAY, UGIN
WAS WRONG. VAEVICTIS WAS A BULLY, AND HIS DESCENDANTS WERE BULLIES WHO WOULD RIP
APART THE HARMONIOUS KINGDOM FOR THE SPORT OF IT. EVEN UGIN WOULD HAVE HAD TO
ACKNOWLEDGE THEY WERE USELESS MARAUDERS. FURTHERMORE, UGIN WASN'T HERE. IT WAS
TIME TO PUT HIS POWERFUL WEAPONS TO USE.

WITH PLANGENT BELLS AND BELLOWING HORN CALLS THE ARMY ASSEMBLED, HAULING
BALLISTAE AND THEIR VENOM-LACED BOLTS. SORCERERS DRAPED IN GOLD AND BLACK ROBES
STRODE IN DISCIPLINED COLUMNS, SINGING AS THEY MARCHED. AT THE RIVER'S EDGE THEY
MET THE SEVEN YOUNG DRAGONS, AND THE PROUD ARMIES POURED VENOM AND SORCERY
ONTO THE ENEMY IN A RELENTLESS HAIL.

IT WAS A ROUT. A SLAUGHTER.

HOW INTOXICATING IT WAS TO SEE THE VENOM-LACED BOLTS FLY TRUE, PIERCING SCALED
UNDERBELLIES SOFTENED BY CUNNING SORCERY! VISCERA SPILLED ONTO THE GROUND,
BURNING THOSE CAUGHT BENEATH. THE GLOATING SHOUTS OF THE VICTORS BLENDED WITH
THE AGONIZED SCREAMS OF THE DYING DRAGONS.

HOW SATISFYING IT WAS TO WATCH THE LOUD-MOUTHED BRAGGARTS TUMBLE TO EARTH ON

PARALYZED WINGS, BREATHING THEIR LAST AS THEIR HEARTS AND LUNGS FAILED AND THEIR
EYES DIMMED. TRIUMPH WAS SWEET, AND SWEETER STILL BECAUSE HE HAD DARED ATTACK
DRAGONS, THE MOST DANGEROUS AND MIGHTY OF ALL CREATURES.

BUT ONE OF THE DRAGONS SURVIVED, FLYING AWAY AT A SPEED THE YOUNG DRAGON KING
COULD NOT MATCH SINCE HE WAS NOT YET FULL GROWN.

"DO WE PURSUE?" HIS GENERALS ASKED ARDENTLY.

"YES!" HE RECALLED WITH STARK CLARITY HOW VAEVICTIS AND HIS BROTHERS HAD ONCE
TORMENTED AND CHASED HIM FOR NO OTHER REASON BUT BECAUSE IT ENTERTAINED THEM TO
BE DESPICABLE. AT LAST HE COULD AVENGE THE INSULT.

EMBOLDENED, THE GREAT ARMY RUMBLED INTO MOTION, MARCHING, RIDING, ROLLING
BEYOND THE STOUTLY GUARDED BORDER. THEY PURSUED THE TRAIL OF THE DRAGON ACROSS
THE GREAT PLAINS WHERE PALLADIA-MORS HAD ONCE HUNTED, TAKING SUPPLIES FROM
TOWNS AND VILLAGES THEY PASSED. THE LAND GREW DRIER, AND SOON THEY REACHED WHAT
APPEARED FROM THE DISTANCE AS A WALL BUT WHICH WAS A STARK BARRIER OF RUGGED
HILLS, TWISTED GULLIES, AND SPECTACULAR PINNACLES. BEYOND, TO THE NORTH, ROSE THE
GRAND MOUNTAIN RANGE WHERE VAEVICTIS AND HIS BROTHERS LAIRED.

SOME AMONG THE TROOPS GRUMBLED, FOR SUPPLIES WERE GROWING SCARCE AND WATER
SCARCER. AFTER THE YOUNG KING ATE THE DISSENTERS—COWARDS INVARIABLY TASTE
SOUR—THE REST DAUNTLESSLY MARCHED NORTH OVER THE FLAT PRAIRIE WITH THE
BADLANDS AT THEIR BACK.
THE SUN WAS RISING WHEN HE SPOTTED FOUR DRAGONS FLYING TOWARD THEM. SEEN FROM A
DISTANCE THEY DID NOT APPEAR PARTICULARLY FORMIDABLE, BUT AS THEY CAME CLOSER,
THEIR MASSIVE SIZE AND FIERCE DEMEANOR BECAME EVIDENT. THE THREE BROTHERS,
LIVIDUS, RAVUS, AND RUBRA, BELLOWED INSULTS AS THEY APPROACHED, CALLING HIM
"RUNT" AND "LEAST BORN." THAT THEIR INSULTS WEREN'T EVEN CLEVER JUST MADE IT WORSE.

THE LARGEST WAS VAEVICTIS HIMSELF, FLYING OUT IN FRONT BECAUSE OF HIS SUPERIOR
STRENGTH. IN HIS FORECLAWS HE HELD THE LIMP BODY OF THE DRAGON THAT HAD FLED THE
LOST BATTLE.

WITH A ROAR THAT SHOOK THE GROUND, VAEVICTIS FLEW RIGHT OVER THE ARMY AND
RELEASED THE DRAGON. THE BODY PLUMMETED TO EARTH AS SOLDIERS SHOVED AND
SHOUTED, TRYING TO GET OUT OF THE WAY. THE CORPSE HIT HARD, INSTANTLY CRUSHING AN
ENTIRE COMPANY OF SLINGERS. BLOOD SOAKED THE DUSTY GROUND, AND FIRES BROKE OUT
WHERE THE FINAL SPARKS OF THE DRAGON'S BREATH KINDLED IN DRY GRASS. THE INJURED
SCREAMED, CLUTCHING AT BONES BROKEN THROUGH SKIN, WHILE HEALERS TRIED TO HAUL
COMRADES OUT FROM BENEATH THE DEAD WEIGHT OF THE DRAGON.

WITH A LAUGH, VAEVICTIS CRIED, "RUN, LITTLE NICOL. RUN, AND I'LL SPARE YOU."

EARLIER IN HIS LIFE, ANGER MIGHT HAVE GOTTEN THE BETTER OF THE YOUNG DRAGON KING AS
HE WRITHED AND FUMED OVER SUCH MOCKERY. HE ASSUAGED HIS ANGER BY DECAPITATING
SEVERAL OF THE GENERALS. BUT HIS UNDERLINGS' SHORTCOMINGS WEREN'T THE IMPORTANT
THING NOW. THE DAYS OF LETTING VAEVICTIS BULLY HIM WERE OVER. HE WHIPPED THE
PANICKED ARMY INTO NEW RANKS, PROMOTING OFFICERS WHO HADN'T LOST THEIR HEADS.

VAEVICTIS'S RASH CHALLENGE OFFERED HIM AN UNEXPECTED ADVANTAGE. VAEVICTIS MIGHT

BE BIG AND MEAN, BUT HE WASN'T AS SMART AS HE THOUGHT HE WAS.

THE YOUNG DRAGON KING ORDERED THE BALLISTAE TO DRAW UP, USING THE LONG STRETCH
OF THE DEAD DRAGON'S BROKEN NECK AND TWISTED TAIL AS A FORTIFICATION. AS VAEVICTIS
CIRCLED BACK TO JOIN UP WITH HIS APPROACHING BROTHERS, THE ARTILLERY BEGAN TO
LAUNCH THEIR VENOM-TIPPED BOLTS. THEY WERE SKILLED ; THEY HAD TO BE, SINCE THOSE
WHO DID NOT MAKE MUSTER WERE DEMOTED TO SLAVERY.

SO THEIR BOLTS STRUCK TRUE, TIME AND AGAIN. RUBRA TOOK A BOLT TO THE EYE. THOUGH
THE SHOT DID NOT KILL HIM OUTRIGHT, THE NUMBING VENOM SEEPED INTO HIS BRAIN. HE
STRUGGLED AWAY TOWARD THE BARRIER WALL, PERHAPS HOPING TO TAKE REFUGE ON ONE OF
THE PINNACLES, BUT LOST CONSCIOUSNESS AND FELL TO EARTH JUST BEYOND THE BAGGAGE
TRAIN. THE REAR GUARD RACED WITH SWORDS AND SPEARS TO WREAK HAVOC UPON HIS
SLUGGISH BODY, SHOUTING AND DANCING WITH GLEE. THE YOUNG DRAGON KING WAS TOO
BUSY DODGING THE FIRE-BREATH OF HIS COUSINS TO REPRIMAND HIS SOLDIERS WHEN THEY
TRIUMPHANTLY BATHED THEMSELVES IN THE DEAD BEHEMOTH'S HOT BLOOD.
 Art by: Scott Murphy

THE REST OF THE ARMY WAS NOT FARING SO WELL. VAEVICTIS HIMSELF TOOK FIVE DIRECT
HITS, BUT IRON COULD NOT PIERCE HIS THICK HIDE. HE ROARED FIRE ACROSS THE ARTILLERY
LINES, SENDING BALLISTAE UP IN GOUTS OF FLAME. LIVIDUS AND RAVUS SWOOPED DOWN TO
SNAP UP SOLDIERS AND FLING THEM THROUGH THE AIR TO THEIR DEATHS. MOUNTS PANICKED,
THROWING THEIR RIDERS AS THEY FLED. THE WAGONS IN THE BAGGAGE TRAIN BEGAN TO BURN
TOGETHER WITH THE HAPLESS DRIVERS AND GROOMS. SMOKE BILLOWED UPWARD, THROWING
ASHY PATCHES ACROSS THE GROUND.

"YOU'LL REGRET CHALLENGING ME!" ROARED VAEVICTIS AS HE CIRCLED AROUND WITH A

BROTHER AT EITHER FLANK. "WE'LL PIN YOU TO THE GROUND AND RIP YOUR FLESH FROM YOUR
BONES WHILE YOU'RE STILL ALIVE."

WITH MUCH OF THE ARMY DEAD OR IN SHAMBLES, THE THREAT WASN'T AN EMPTY ONE. BRUTE
STRENGTH WOULD NOT SERVE HIM NOW; ONLY HIS SUPERIOR WITS COULD SAVE THE DAY.

THE YOUNG KING HAD LONG SINCE GAINED CONTROL OF HIS SORCERERS THROUGH HIS SUPPLE
MIND TOUCH. AT HIS COMMAND, THEY WOVE A GREAT SPELL OF CONCEALMENT, BLANKETING
THE BATTLEFIELD IN A SOOTY HAZE. UNDER ITS COVER, HE SLIPPED AWAY WITH THE REMNANTS
OF THE ARMY TOWARD THE RUGGED HILLS AND TWISTED GULLIES. TWO BALLISTAE HAD
SURVIVED, HAULED BY SOLDIERS GIVEN STRENGTH BY DESPERATION. THE REAR GUARD, STILL
DAMP WITH BLOOD, FELL IN; THEY HAD SURVIVED BECAUSE, THEIR CAPTAIN CALLED UP TO HIM,
THE HOLY DRAGON'S BLOOD PROTECTED THEM FROM DRAGON'S FIRE.

A POINT TO CONSIDER, ONCE HE COULD CATCH HIS BREATH. HE DROVE HIS EXHAUSTED,
STUMBLING ARMY LIKE A WOUNDED LEVIATHAN INTO A DEEP GULLY HEMMED IN BY CLIFFS ON
EITHER SIDE.

"GREAT KING, ISN'T THIS A DEATH TRAP?" OPINED ONE OF HIS GENERALS.
"ONLY IF YOU DON'T SURVIVE THE COMING BATTLE." THE QUESTION ANNOYED HIM, BUT THERE
WASN'T TIME TO DISCIPLINE THE GENERAL. SOMETIMES YOU HAD TO DELAY PUNISHING AN
OFFENDER IN ORDER TO MOVE FAST TO SAVE YOURSELF.

BEYOND A SHARP CURVE IN THE CANYON HE ALLOWED THEM TO HALT. PERHAPS A THIRD OF
HIS ARMY HAD STAYED WITH HIM, ALONG WITH SEVEN BOLTS FOR THE TWO BALLISTAE.
THOUGH THE BOLTS HAD PIERCED THE SCALES OF THE LESSER DRAGONS, THESE ELDER
DRAGONS WERE TOUGHER. BUT THE EYE WAS VULNERABLE. AND HE HAD HIS SORCERERS AS
WELL, OF WHOM ONE SQUADRON REMAINED.

AT ODD MOMENTS, WHEN HE VISITED THE BIRTH MOUNTAIN OR WHEN HE WAS FLYING ABOVE
WATER, HE THOUGHT OF UGIN. IN HIS HEARTS, HE FELT OBLIGED TO BELIEVE AN INVISIBLE
WIND ROUSED BY SORCERY HAD RIPPED UGIN AWAY, BECAUSE IF IT HADN'T BEEN SORCERY,
THEN UGIN WAS NOTHING MORE THAN A COWARD WHO HAD ABANDONED HIS BROTHER JUST
WHEN NICOL NEEDED HIM MOST. HE COULD NOT BEAR TO BELIEVE UGIN WAS SO WEAK AND
DISHONORABLE. FOR GENERATIONS HE HAD TOILED IN CONCERT WITH HIS ACADEMY OF
SORCERERS TO RECOVER OR DEVISE A MAGIC THAT COULD REPLICATE UGIN 'S DISAPPEARANCE.
NO ONE HAD MANAGED IT YET, BUT THE SORCERERS WERE ABLE TO DISINTEGRATE LARGE
ROCKS.

THEY HAD A CHANCE, IF EVERYONE MANAGED THEIR TASK AT THE RIGHT MOMENT.

A BELLOW ECHOED DOWN THE CANYON WALLS. THE HEAVY THUDS OF A MASSIVE BODY
APPROACHING SHOOK THE GROUND.

"WAIT," HE COMMANDED THE RESTLESS, FRIGHTENED TROOPS. "WAIT."

LIVIDUS LOOMED INTO VIEW, BLOCKING THE CANYON.

THE BALLISTAE RELEASED WITH A THUD, SENDING BOLTS STRAIGHT INTO THE HUGE DRAGON.
THE FIRST GLANCED HARMLESSLY OFF HIS SHOULDER WHILE THE SECOND CAUGHT BETWEEN
SCALES IN HIS FORELEG AND DANGLED THERE UNTIL HE SHOOK IT OFF. AND LAUGHED,
LOOKING UP.

A SHADOW DARKENED THE CANYON AS RAVUS DROPPED DOWN FROM THE SKY.

"NOW!" CRIED THE YOUNG KING.

WORKING IN CONCERT, THE SORCERERS FLUNG THE DISINTEGRATION SPELL AT THE DRAGON
OVERHEAD. IT HIT LIKE AN INVISIBLE WAVE POURING THROUGH HIM. RAVUS SPLINTERED LIKE
ROCK HEATED UNTIL IT EXPLODES. SCALES HAILED DOWN IN DEADLY DISCS UPON HIS TROOPS.
HALF THE SORCERERS WERE KILLED OUTRIGHT, PUNCTURED BY SHARP BONE FRAGMENTS OR
SMASHED BY SLABS OF RAINING FLESH.
 Art by: Even Amundsen

"RAVUS!" WITH A CRY OF ENRAGED GRIEF, LIVIDUS FLAMED THE BALLISTAE JUST AS A SECOND
SET OF BOLTS FLEW. THE FORCE OF HIS BLAST SENT THE BOLTS SKITTERING AGAINST THE
CANYON WALLS, LEAVING THE YOUNG KING VULNERABLE WITH THE CHARRED BALLISTAE, THE
LAST SORCERERS, AND THE BLOOD-SOAKED REARGUARD AS HIS SOLE COMPANIONS.

"THIS ISN'T WHAT YOU LEARNED FROM ARCADES," UGIN HAD CRIED AT THE LAST MOMENT OF HIS
EXISTENCE WHEN HE'D BEEN FURIOUS AT NICOL'S ATTEMPT TO MANIPULATE HIS THOUGHTS.
THE TOUCH DID NOT WORK ON DRAGONS. SO NICOL HAD BELIEVED AT THE TIME. BUT MAYBE
IT JUST HADN'T WORKED ON UGIN.

STARING UP AT LIVIDUS, HE KNEW HE HAD ONE BOLT LEFT TO SHOOT, A RASH AND DANGEROUS
CHANCE TO TAKE.

"NOW YOU'LL DIE, YOU SLITHERING WORM," LIVIDUS HISSED.

"COUSIN!" HE CAPTURED LIVIDUS'S GLEAMING GAZE WITH HIS OWN. HE SUNK A SHADOW
CLAW OF DOUBT INTO THE OTHER DRAGON'S HEARTS, SEEKING TO EXCAVATE HIS GRIEVANCES.
"NO WONDER VAEVICTIS SENT YOU AHEAD. HE KNEW THE RISK, AND EXPOSED YOU AND
RAVUS INSTEAD OF HIMSELF. DOESN'T HE ALWAYS DO THAT?"

THE BIG DRAGON'S HESITATION, A SHIVER OF SUPPRESSED RESENTMENT, SPURRED HIM ON.

"HE FLIES AHEAD ONLY WHEN HE KNOWS HE'LL NOT BE TOUCHED. DON'T YOU TIRE OF HIS
RULE? HIS HECTORING, DOMINEERING WAYS? IT'S HIS FAULT RAVUS AND RUBRA ARE DEAD.
DIDN'T THE THREE OF YOU CONSPIRE ONCE TO SUPPLANT HIM, BUT HE BEAT YOU INTO
SUBMISSION? NOW WHAT WILL YOU DO WHEN HE HAS ONLY YOU TO BULLY ? HE'S ALWAYS
BEEN AFRAID OF YOU, SINCE YOU'RE THE ONLY ONE AS BIG AS HE IS. THAT'S WHY HE KEEPS YOU
DOWN. I CAN HELP, BUT WE HAVE TO WORK TOGETHER."

HE PRESSED THE VENOM-TIPPED SPEAR OF HIS SHARP MIND DEEP INTO LIVIDUS'S SIMMERING
RANCOR. IT WAS SO EASY, AFTER ALL, JUST AS EASY AS IT HAD ALWAYS BEEN WITH
HUMANOIDS. HIS COUSIN WAS STRONG IN BODY BUT WEAK IN MIND.
"HERE HE COMES! IF YOU ATTACK HIM, I'LL WHIP MY SORCERERS AFTER HIM. WE'LL BE RID OF
HIM FOREVER MORE."

HERE CAME VAEVICTIS. LIVIDUS ROSE TO MEET HIM WITH A ROAR. OF COURSE, VAEVICTIS DID
NOT SUSPECT AN ATTACK, SO THE FIRST SWIPE TOOK HIM OFF GUARD, DRAWING BLOOD FROM
HIS RIGHT SHOULDER. HIS RAGE EXPLODED AS HE SWATTED BACK, A BLOW THAT WOULD HAVE
SENT THE YOUNG KING TUMBLING TAIL OVER HORNS. BUT LIVIDUS WAS AS BIG AS VAEVICTIS.
WHILE THE BLOW STAGGERED HIM, HE RECOVERED QUICKLY, AND WITH A BLAST OF FIRE AND
THE HAMMER OF HIS TAIL, STRUCK BACK.

"NOW," SAID THE YOUNG KING TO HIS SURVIVING SORCERERS.

AGAIN, THEY THREW THE DISINTEGRATING SPELL AGAINST THE GREAT DRAGONS, BUT EITHER
BECAUSE IT HAD TO SPREAD BETWEEN TWO GIANT BODIES OR BECAUSE SIX WAS TOO FEW
WORKING IN CONCERT, THE MAGIC DID NOTHING BUT STAGGER THE DRAGONS MOMENTARILY.

YET EACH HOWLED IN PAIN AND ANGER, THINKING THE OTHER HAD HIT FIRST.

"TRAITOR! BACKSTABBER!" CRIED VAEVICTIS, FLINGING HIMSELF AT LIVIDUS JUST AS, LONG
AGO IN ARCADES'S TOWN, A MILD-MANNERED YOUNG MAN HAD BEEN GOADED TO ATTACK AND
KILL HIS OWN BROTHER.

THEIR BATTLE RENEWED WITH A FEROCITY WHOSE IMPACT AND CLAMOR THUNDERED
THROUGH THE RUGGED HILLS AND ECHOED DOWN THE DEEP CANYONS.

REVENGE WAS SWEET. BUT THE WINNER WOULD STILL BE BIGGER THAN HE WAS.

THE YOUNG KING RETREATED. THE BLOOD-SOAKED REARGUARD, OF COURSE, HAD TO ALL BE
KILLED LEST THEY PASS ON THE KNOWLEDGE OF HOW THE BLOOD OF AN ELDER DRAGON
PROTECTED WEAK HUMANOID FLESH. THE SORCERERS HE ALLOWED TO LIVE FOR LONG ENOUGH
TO CREATE A SMOKY MIST OF CONCEALMENT THAT WOULD CARRY HIM SOME WAYS ONTO THE
PLAINS, BUT HE KILLED THEM AFTER SO THERE WOULD BE NO ONE TO TALK OF HOW THERE
WERE BIGGER, STRONGER DRAGONS IN THE WORLD WHOM HIS SUBJECTS MIGHT CHOOSE TO
WORSHIP INSTEAD OF HIM.

AS HE FLEW AWAY IN HASTE, HE CONTEMPLATED WHAT HE HAD LEARNED. GREED AND ENVY
ARE GOADS THAT NEVER CEASE CLAWING AT EVEN THE DULLEST OF HEARTS. DRAGONS WILL
SUCCUMB AS EASILY AS OTHERS, IF YOU CAN JUST FIND THE KERNEL TO IGNITE THEM.

VAEVICTIS WOULD COME AFTER HIM, HE WAS SURE OF IT. SO HE HAD TO FIND A WAY TO KEEP
HIS COUSIN BUSY.

INSTEAD OF RETURNING TO HIS HARMONIOUS KINGDOM, HE TRAVELED UP INTO THE CRAGGY

MOUNTAINS, SEEKING OUT THE DESCENDANTS OF LIVIDUS, RAVUS, AND RUDRA. WHAT
TERRIBLE NEWS HE HAD TO BRING THEM! VAEVICTIS HAD TURNED ON HIS OWN BROTHERS.
WHAT A DISGRACE. MOST LIKELY THE BIG DRAGON MEANT TO ERADICATE HIS BROTHERS'
DESCENDANTS AS WELL SO NO TRACE OF PERFIDY COULD POSSIBLY SURVIVE.
THE EASE WITH WHICH THE GULLIBLE COULD BE TURNED TO HIS PURPOSE WAS SURPRISINGLY
PLEASURABLE. RETURNING TO HIS KINGDOM SEEMED UNADVENTUROUS AND BLAND. INSTEAD
HE JOURNEYED ON TO A NEW LAIR OF DRAGONS, A NEW TERRITORY TO ENFLAME. HE SOUGHT
OUT PALLADIA-MORS. SHE REMEMBERED HIM WITH A DISMISSIVE CLOUT TO HIS HEAD, BUT SHE
LISTENED AVIDLY TO HIS TALE OF HOW VULNERABLE VAEVICTIS NOW WAS.

AH. REVENGE WAS INDEED SWEET.

IN YEARS TO COME, THE STORIES WOULD BE TOLD AT HEARTH FIRES OR BY REFUGEES HUDDLED
AROUND CAMPFIRES SEEKING SAFETY, NOT THAT THEY WOULD EVER BE SAFE.

DRAGONS FROM ONE CLAN RAIDED THE MOUNTAIN FASTNESSES OF A COUSIN CLAN. AMID THE
SNOW-CAPPED PEAKS THE DRAGONS FOUGHT IN THUNDEROUS BATTLES, CLAW TO CLAW, FIRE
TO FIRE. CHARRED FLESH RAINED DOWN FROM THE HEAVENS. BONE SHATTERED AT THE BASE
OF CLIFFS. THOSE WHOSE HUNGER COULD NEVER BE SATED TORE THEIR WAY THROUGH THE
DYING, FEASTING UPON THE BLOODY FLESH OF THEIR OWN KIND.

GREED AND ENVY GROW THE MORE THEY ARE FED. MAWS OPEN TO SWALLOW LARGER
PORTIONS, AND CLAWS REACH FOR YET MORE DISTANT PREY.

DRAGONS TURNED THEIR GAZE UPON THE FIELDS AND HERDS OF THE HUMANOID SETTLEMENTS.
SOME WISHED MERELY TO DEVOUR THE HUMANOIDS AS THEY HAD HUNTED DOWN AND
DEVOURED WILD HERDS. OTHERS WISHED TO MANAGE THEM LIKE CATTLE, RIPE FOR CULLING
WHEN THEIR HUNGER GREW SHARP. A FEW WISHED TO TEACH AND GUIDE THE HUMANOIDS, BUT
THEIR EFFORTS WERE OFTEN MET WITH INGRATITUDE AND MISUNDERSTANDING. EVEN THE
CLEVER CHROMIUM RHUELL TOOK TO HIDING HIMSELF WHILE HE PRETENDED TO BE
SOMETHING HE WAS NOT, LEST HE BE SCORNED BY THE HUMANS HE CLAIMED DID LOVE HIM OR
EATEN BY THE DRAGONS WHO DESPISED HIS MEALY-MOUTHED PHILANTHROPY.

NO CAGE CAN CONFINE GREED. NO CHAINS CAN BIND ENVY. AS THEY GROW, THEY ARE LASHED
BY DESIRE AND ANGER, AND SO THE DRAGONS WERE NOT SATED. THEIR HUNGER DID NOT
ABATE.

Art by: Adam Paquette

DRAGONS CROSSED THE MIGHTY SEAS TO FIND NEW LANDS IN WHICH TO FEED THEIR HUNGER
FOR FLESH AND FOR POWER. WHEN EVEN THOSE DISTANT SHORES BECAME TOO CROWDED,
THEN DRAGONS FOUGHT EACH OTHER WITH TOOTH AND CLAW, WITH FIRE AND ICE. UNDER
DRAGON STANDARDS, THEY RAISED PROUD WAR BANDS FROM AMONG THE HUMANOIDS WHO
WORSHIPED OR FEARED THEM. SORCERERS WHO SOUGHT A DRAGON-LIKE POWER THROUGH
MASTERY OF THEIR MAGICAL GIFTS CAME CRAWLING TO OFFER THEIR SERVICES, FOR IN ALL
THE WIDE WORLD NO CREATURE IS AS POWERFUL AS A DRAGON, NOT IN THE BEGINNING OF
DAYS AND NEVER ACROSS ALL THE UNENDING SPAN OF ETERNITY.

EVEN THE WISE ARCADES SABBOTH, WHO HAD SCOLDED AND HARANGUED UPON THE TOPIC OF
ORDER AND PEACE AND THE PROPER WAY TO RULE, THREW HIS MIGHT INTO THE GREAT WAR AS
HE LISTENED TO THE WHISPERS OF WISDOM THAT BRUSHED THROUGH HIS MIND.

THE OTHERS WILL NOT RESPECT YOUR AUTONOMY OR YOUR WISDOM. THEY WILL COME FOR YOU IF
YOU DO NOT GO AFTER THEM FIRST.

EVEN ARCADES MARCHED HIS FOLLOWERS AGAINST FORTRESSES RULED OVER BY HIS DISTANT
KINFOLK. WHEN HE HAD DEFEATED THEM, HE THREW THEIR MARROWLESS BONES INTO THE SEA
WHERE THE WATERS CHURNED THEM INTO PALE SANDS THAT WASHED SHORES ALL THE WORLD
ROUND.

SO THE WARS RAGED, WHILE ONLY ONE DRAGON KEPT FAITH WITH THOSE HE RULED. HE HAD
NOT FORGOTTEN THE PROMISE HE MADE TO HIS TWIN: THAT THERE SHOULD NOT BE ONE LAW
FOR THEM AND A DIFFERENT LAW FOR US. THERE SHOULD ONLY BE ONE LAW.

THERE WOULD ONLY BE ONE LAW.

Tae Jin broke off and, mouth slack, stared at the ground as if he had forgotten what he'd been
saying or even who he was.

Atarka raised her head. Ligaments dangled from her mouth. She'd swallowed the liver and
hearts whole and torn muscle and fat from bone. A slimy ooze coated her forelegs where
she'd waded into the innards of the Ojutai dragon after tearing open its belly. She opened her
mouth wide and wider still, displaying the fearsome topography of her teeth, then snapped
her jaw closed with a rumble of laughter.

"There is only one law: to eat. This was a good feast. You may keep the outsider."

The dragonlord leaped skyward in a battering of wings that sent them all to their knees. She
soon vanished from sight, flying northeast toward the Qal Sisma.

"My head." As if his bones had turned to liquid, Tae Jin collapsed straight down, standing
one moment and seated the next, hunched over with head resting in his hands.
Naiva ran over to him, but Grandmother got there first and waved her off. She crouched
beside him and tilted his head back so she could look into his eyes. What she saw there made
her frown.

"Are you conscious, Tae Jin?"

"Yes . . . just struck with a headache that makes my eyes water."

"What tale was that you told, so like Ugin's story and yet not his story at all?"

"I don't know. I meant to tell the tale of the last days of Shu Yun's leadership. Of the last
meeting of the khans and how they fell to the dragons."

"I remember that day and its aftermath too well."

"I thought such a tale of victory would entertain the dragonlord."

"Where did this tale come from, then?"

Again, he rubbed his eyes, then cautiously rose as if unsure his legs would hold him up. "This
other story . . . came into my mind in a whisper. Maybe it's a story my mother told me when I
was very young that I have forgotten until now."

Grandmother stood. "This is an ominous turn of events. Once before, a whispering voice
sought to alter the events on Tarkir. To my shame, I listened. Ugin's death is partly to be
blamed on me. Maybe the visions your master and the windfolk received didn't come from
Ugin. But if they did, it's more important than ever that we reach Ugin's grave quickly. First,
we must honor Darka for his hunting prowess in life and his unflinching acceptance of
death."

Ainok Tracker | Art by: Evan Shipard

They pulled the ainok's mangled remains from amid the bloody ruins left by Atarka's feeding.
His knife and amulets they wrapped up to return to his ainok kin. The items from his pack
they split between themselves. Such objects were too valuable to be abandoned. Afterward, in
the ainok manner, they lay his body on the ground and ringed it with stones. Each spoke a
brief prayer and a single memory, nothing elaborate. Every spirit passed into the realm of the
ancestors, and with another hunt always looming, the greatest honor they could show the
deceased was to continue on, year after year, generation after generation.

"His spirit walks ahead of us into the unwritten now," said Grandmother as she placed a large
rock atop his chest as a reminder of the weight of obligations that bound each member of the
tribe to the others. The sun, too, was part of the kinship network, and the sun would watch as
the birds and beasts and bugs devoured his remains.

She stepped away. "Is everyone ready?"

Naiva looked around. Of course they were ready, spears and knives in hand, packs slung
across their backs. The tribe was always ready.

"We must reach Ugin's grave before the storm hits."

Grandmother led them away from the boulders and the gnawed remains and shattered bones
of the two dead dragons. Vultures circled overhead, awaiting their chance to feed on the
wreckage. Up ahead, Fec was waiting to fall in with them.

Naiva scanned the sky. The dregs of dark clouds had been blown into the southeast like a
fleeing herd. The rising sun poured its golden light across the tundra. Far away, at the edge of
the hills, a strange, warped spiral of stone rose up from the ground, the feature so sharp and
delineated that for an instant, she believed the illusion she could reach out and touch it.

"Do you think another dragon tempest is coming?" she asked Grandmother.

"I think it's already here."

CHRONICLE OF BOLAS: A FAMILIAR

STRANGER
Where the flat tundra gave way to the western range of the Qal Sisma, hills rose like the
jagged teeth of a monstrously large dragon sprouting from the hard ground. Amid the hills
stood a stone spire twisted into a massive coil. Beside it, an eerie blue-green light drifted like
haze from a cleft that split the earth.

Here, at the gateway to Ugin's grave, Grandmother halted their party with a raised hand rather
than speech. The fissure dove deep to create a vast canyon cut through ice and rock. What lay
at the base of the canyon was concealed by a huge cocoon of spiky rocks dusted with snow
and decorated with crackling lines of ice that traced unfathomable runes woven into its
surface.
 Crucible of the Spirit Dragon | Art by: Jung Park

From where they stood on an overlook, there was no way down into the canyon, although a
dusty trail kept going out of sight around the rocky ground that bordered the chasm. Naiva
remembered the journey to Ugin's grave six years ago, the trek across the tundra, trapping
birds and hunting a herd of saiga, and how they'd reached the cleft. After gaping in awe at the
strange formation they had walked on the narrow trail along the canyon's rim to a shallow
cave. There, they had camped for ten nights.

Grandmother called with a ptarmigan's croak, then listened.

As they waited for an answer, Naiva shifted nervously. The glow disturbed her almost as
much as the sight of the rock cocoon grown along the depths of the chasm. Were the growths
bigger than they had been six years ago? Were there more of the mysterious runes?

"What are those?" Tae Jin whispered.

"Grandmother calls them hedrons. They protect the Spirit Dragon's bones."

"Ah. What are we waiting for?"

"There's a cave ahead. A hunting party sometimes camps here."

"Why?"

"The hunting is particularly good here because dragons avoid this area. And we have to guard
against incursions from the Ojutai and Kolaghan tribes. They'd hunt here too, if they could,
stealing the game from our territory."

"I meant, why are we waiting instead of going on?"

"To let them know we're coming. We don't want to surprise them."

Tae Jin stared down into the chasm and the shimmering surface of the hedrons. They were
opaque; impossible to see if bones lay beneath them, as Grandmother claimed. A curve in the
canyon wall hid the rest of the cocoon.
"I had no idea the Spirit Dragon was so huge," Tae Jin whispered. "I thought he was the same
size as the dragonlords."

"No, he was the greatest of the dragons, as of course he must be, since he is the progenitor of
all of Tarkir," broke in Baishya. She stood on Tae Jin's other side, shading her eyes with a
hand as she studied the hedrons with a slight, mysterious smile.

A thought stabbed in Naiva's head: how annoying that Baishya must show off her knowledge
when it was Naiva who had shown interest in the young ghostfire warrior first. Her twin
already commanded more of Grandmother's attention. Couldn't she leave Naiva
with anything?

A shrill sound broke up the path of her thoughts: grandmother whistling a louder call.

Only the wind answered.

"Mevra is leader of the group who came here last season. Even if they are off hunting, they
usually leave a few people at the encampment to cure hides and such work." Grandmother
gestured to Fec. "You go up the path to the cave. Mattak, you, Oiyan, Rakhan, and Sorya stay
here to guard Tae Jin."

"Do you think this has been an Ojutai trap all along?" Mattak asked, glowering at Tae Jin.

Grandmother's stern gaze settled on the young man. "It might be. I want you to guard Tae Jin
from attack by any of his Ojutai brethren who may have been tasked to follow and kill him.
Take cover in the rocks. Girls, with me."

Fec quickly vanished from sight around the curve of the trail while the others hid among a
jumble of rocks, the debris thrown up from the canyon when the Spirit Dragon had slammed
into the ground.

"What's wrong?" Naiva asked. "Where do you think they went?"

Grandmother touched her lips to command silence. She led the girls back the way they had
come through the debris field, cut through here and there with stands of surviving trees. After
about two hundred paces she showed them a nock cut into the trunk of an old juniper. Sliding
sideways between the trees, they eased through the foliage and emerged onto a dried-up
stream bed. They followed its descent for short ways, slipping and sliding on smooth stones.
Grandmother halted beside a large rock half concealed by the thick branches of a medicinal
plant called weeping berry. A mark had been carved into the rock: the "claw of Temur," now
forbidden by Atarka. She brushed aside the hanging branches to reveal the narrow entrance to
a tunnel.
She tapped first Naiva's nose and then Baishya's, the old gesture she'd used to get their
attention when they were toddlers. "This knowledge belongs to the whisperers, and to the
elders. Never tell anyone else. Do you understand me?"

"Yes," said Baishya.

Naiva frowned, both troubled and excited by the solemn words. "I understand."

They walked single file, Grandmother leading, with Naiva at the rear. After some time, the
passage took a sharp turn and they emerged into a circular pocket valley about one hundred
paces across. The air within the valley was warm, almost balmy. Edible plants grew around a
spring. The sky overhead was made small by the enveloping rocks, but the intense smell of
growing things gave a richness to the tiny sanctuary.

Baishya knelt by the spring. "It's beautiful. Look, here's chokeberry and stonebreaker, and
twilight moss. How is it so summer-like?"

"This is a sacred place, where shamans come to meditate. Now it is more than that, a
sanctuary hidden from the dragons."

"How can it be hidden from dragons?" Naiva asked, pointing to the sky.

"A magic woven into the rock conceals it from above. But the magic can only span a short
distance and must be renewed every year."

"Why did you bring us here, Grandmother?" Baishya asked. "We could have stayed with the
others while Fec scouted."
Grandmother turned a slow circle, studying the little valley as if to make sure everything was
as she'd left it. "If things go badly, if my worst fears are realized, you may need to shelter
here."

"What fears?" Naiva asked.

"Pick up a rock."

Four tidy mounds of polished agate marked the four directions. The stones radiated a heat
that warmed the air. When Naiva picked one up, she discovered the gleam she'd taken for
polishing was a glow of warmth. Baishya gasped, eyes widening with delight and
amazement, and she too picked up a stone, pressed it to a cheek, then smiled as she cupped it
in her palms.

Grandmother touched two fingers to her lips for silence before gesturing toward a tunnel
opening on the far side of the valley. They followed her quietly, their footfalls soft scuffs on
the rocky ground as they moved as if into the bones of the earth. The rock enclosed them,
protected them; the gleam from the stones lit their path. On the walls of the tunnel were
painted the outlines of bison and saiga, of bears and wolves, of antlered deer and elk. Hunting
parties surrounded young dragons, pinning them with nets as they turned their spears upon
vulnerable bellies and eyes. Amid the graceful paintings were carved the claw of Temur as
well as other sigils—spirals and flames, spider webs and icy mountain peaks riven by
crevasses—that Naiva had never seen before. Under other circumstances someone like her
would never have seen this secret place. But she was twin to a shaman, and Grandmother
never did anything for no reason.

At length, the tunnel expanded into a long cavern, its walls so high the stone-light could not
penetrate the upper darkness. Shapes greeted them like kinfolk silently awaiting their return.
As they approached, the rounded shadows resolved into large headpieces resting on stone
pillars. The oversized leather hoods were strung with carved bone, antlers, tusks, and amulets
hammered out of bronze.

Baishya stopped so abruptly that Naiva bumped into her. "What are these, Grandmother?"

"They are the garb of a whisperer, as you are meant to be. We have hidden them here to save
them from Atarka. The day you can no longer conceal yourself from Atarka is the day you
will join the hidden ones, my child. We will have to hide you from her."

"In a rock tomb, like our mother?" Naiva demanded.

"Hush, not so loud, my brave hunter. You would have learned this in time, but now there is
no time. Listen carefully, Naiva, for you have a part in this as well. You have the skill to be a
great hunter, to support our people. But you have in you the chance to do something even
more important than that."

"What can be more important than feeding the clan and keeping Atarka fed so she doesn't kill
us?" Naiva asked.
"What is more important? To keep alive the knowledge of our true selves." Grandmother
moved past them. Shelves had been carved directly into the stone. Here, set out in neat lines,
rested a collection of horns, tusks, and antlers. The stone-light revealed carvings on their
surface, their fine, elaborate lines clearly the work of master carvers. The light also revealed
the way Grandmother's expression softened in a rare display of satisfaction. Few things in the
harsh life they lived could ease her guardedness, but when she picked up one of the antlers
and tipped it within the aura of light to consider the carving, she actually smiled.

"These carvings tell the story of the past. As long as our ancestors live on through our
memory of them, then there is hope we can one day reclaim who we are rather than serve
only the hunger of Atarka and her children."

"Are there stories of battles and dragon killing?"

"Yes, and much more than that. It's past time for you girls to become guardians of this
knowledge, so you can pass it on after I am gone."

Naiva took the antler from Grandmother and examined the carving incised into the bone. No
dragon killing, but dragons killing humans. All at once she realized it was the story of how
the khans fell, a tale Grandmother often told hearthside at night both as warning and as
reminder.

Baishya hadn't even come over to look at the scrimshaw. She had drifted back to the
headpieces, reaching out toward the closest one before trepidatiously withdrawing her hand.
After taking in an unsteady breath for resolve, she reached again and this time cautiously
brushed her fingers along the tokens of power. Her face settled into a look of awe.

"I hear you," she whispered.

Of course, the objects were whispering secrets to her. This tradition belonged to those granted
the shaman's gifts; it didn't belong to hunters like Naiva. She was only here because of
Baishya.

It was so unfair.

Grandmother took the antler and set it back among the others. "Fec will have reached the
camp by now. Come with me. Make no noise. Bring no light."

They placed the stones on the ground and followed her into a wide tunnel, the only other
outlet. The ceiling sloped down until they had to crawl. Fec's rumbling voice whispered
around them, although his words were inaudible. After a pause, as if he was listening, he
spoke again in apparent reply. Why was Grandmother spying instead of greeting her kinfolk
in the normal manner?
 Formless Nurturing | Art by: Cliff Childs

The passageway ended in a long horizontal cleft, too narrow to squeeze through, that
overlooked the large, shallow cave. The stone hearth was covered in a fine, white ash. The
packs and weapons of clan hunters lay scattered on the ground behind a stone wall high
enough to keep out wandering beasts, but the hunters were gone. Fec stood at the entrance
with the light behind him. He was looking toward someone at the back of the cave, their face
and form obscured by shadows.

Grandmother hissed softly between her teeth.

A low-pitched voice spoke out of the shadows in a tone both sweet and melancholy. "An
illness ate away their lives and brought them death. I am all that is left."

"Who are you, kinswoman? Come out so I can see your face."

"I dare not greet you, Brother, for fear of spreading the sickness that took the others."

"You are ill?"

"I am not. But maybe the illness hides in me. Death can hide in many guises and strike when
it is least expected, can it not?"

Fec hid a hand behind his back and gave the sign for "caution"—which meant he knew about
the hidden cleft and presumed that Grandmother was already there, watching. "How long ago
did they die?"

"I lost track of the days. Dreams trouble my nights. Do you know of any dreams?"

"I do not dream." He held his hands out to show himself unarmed. "As I said before, I am
called Fec, of the line of Abek, now fostered son to Yasova First Mother. Again I ask, may I
know you and your family, Little Sister?"

Silence filled the air like heat radiating off a fire. The shape took a step out of the darkness of
the back of the cave, resolving into an exceedingly pregnant woman holding an axe. A fur hat
was tugged down over her hair. It was hard to distinguish her features due to the way the
shadows dappled her face.

"Yasova First Mother," she said in that honey-sweet tone. "This name I know, but I do not
know you, Fec, of the line of Abek. Bring me Yasova, and I will speak to her and tell her of
what happened here. She will know about the dreams."

"Is there anything you need, Little Sister? Anything you need until I return?"

"I have what I need." She rested a hand on the spread of her belly, as if in reminder that every
child birthed was a child set upon the path of the clan, a link between the past and the
unwritten that has not yet come to pass.

"Is this your first?"

"My first?"

"Your first child. You look near your time, and there is no midwife or healer here."

"Yes, yes, all is well. The time is near. Where is Yasova?"

He tapped his chest with an open hand as if in acknowledgement of her words, but it was
really a signal to Grandmother that they would meet back with the others. "I will see what I
can do, Little Sister. Although it may take some time. Wait here in peace until I return."

She said nothing, just waited. He retreated without ever turning his back on her and finally
vanished into the daylight. Only then did she return to the shadows. A darkness curled around
her, hiding all but a gleam of eyes.

Without speaking Naiva crept backward with Grandmother and Baishya until they reached
the cavern where the headpieces rested like presences waiting to be released from
confinement.

Grandmother handed each girl a stone. Her expression was grave.

"You are most precious to me, my girls."

The shock of her saying this out loud robbed Naiva of breath. For an instant, she thought all
the air had been sucked out of the chamber and she would suffocate. Always attune to her
twin's emotions, Baishya grabbed her hand and squeezed it.

"We are come to a time of great danger. Those of us who remember what once was are
passing into the ice of the ancestors, while those who will be born will never know who we
once were except through stories they are told by people who never witnessed what they tell
of. You are all that remains of my daughter, whom I loved. But you are also my offering to
the unwritten now, you and the carvings we make to tell our story so others may know of us
in distant days to come."
"What's wrong?" Naiva demanded. "Do you think the woman's sickness will infect us?"

"Did you not recognize her?"

"No."

Baishya said, "It was hard to see her face but I thought she looked like Mevra."

"Yes, the body resembles Mevra, but I believe the speaker is not what she seems."

"Are you saying someone has stolen Mevra's shape? How can anyone do that?" Naiva asked.

"My healing magic is powerful. There are other forms of powerful magic in the world."

"Like Baishya moving stone and ice."

"That's right. Maybe magic can mold a person into a different form. Maybe it merely makes
us believe through illusion that we see something that isn't there. I don't know. But Fec's
sense of smell is excellent, and by his sign, he also suspects it is not her. I cannot be sure until
I approach more closely and question this person myself. I'm leaving you two here while I do
that."

"I'm not afraid," said Naiva stoutly.

"Of course you aren't." Grandmother grasped a hand of each girl, holding tightly. "But until I
figure out why Ugin has sent visions to us now, or if they are even Ugin's visions, you two
must stay here."

Ugin's Nexus | Art by: Sam Burley

"Who else's visions could they be?"

"An interloper who has already infected us by bringing about the reign of the dragonlords. If
anything happens to me and the others, wait a month."

"A month!"
"Do as I say. After a month, return to Ayagor and tell Gerrak he is now First Father of the
tribe."

Without further explanation, she left them.

"What interloper?" Naiva stared into the darkness left by Grandmother's departure. "How
could one interloper have brought about the reign of the dragonlords? Aren't dragons always
fated to rule us?"

"A rope is not a single strand but many strands woven together," said Baishya softly. "The
future is like that rope. The strand we are on now is not the only strand that could have been.
There was a different path, one that wasn't taken."

"You sound like a whisperer now!"

"I am a whisperer. Don't you remember the tale, Nai? There was another great dragon in the
storm that day, the one who killed Ugin. He came from nowhere and vanished to nowhere."

"Does Grandmother think he's returned?" Naiva hugged her arms around herself. It suddenly
seemed so cold. "She can't face a dragon alone. We should go back to the overlook and see—
"

"No!" Baishya's usually mild, hesitant tone hardened, making her sound like another person,
not the shy, dreamy twin Naiva knew so well in some ways and yet whose mind was so
different from her own that it often baffled her. "We can't go back there, Nai. I know where
we have to go."

She tugged Naiva into the darkest corner of the cavern. The stone-light revealed a cleft so
narrow that Baishya had already taken off her pack and set it down in order to squeeze
through.

"What are you doing, Bai? Grandmother told us to stay here."

"Ugin is calling me. I didn't hear it before. Maybe we were too far away and it can only reach
me through the magic woven into the headpieces."

"Ugin is dead. Dead things are dead."

"No. Death is more complicated than that. If you won't come, I'm going alone."

She'd said the same words when she set out to climb Eternal Ice. A part of Naiva wanted to
balk, to turn away. But just as on the day Baishya had set out up the sacred mountain, Naiva
knew her twin had her mind set on a path and would not turn back. Since it was her duty to
protect Baishya, she set down her pack and, still holding the stone, turned sideways and
followed her into the cleft. She scraped her nose on rock as she side-stepped along. The back
of her head bumped against the other wall. After one hundred and eleven side steps the cleft
widened enough that she could cram up beside her twin. Bai was breathing hard, coughing a
little.

Naiva draped an arm over her shoulders. "Look, there's a glimmer of daylight ahead. We'll set
the stones down here so we can get them when we come back."

The cleft opened into a shallow cave where a ring of stones formed a fire pit. It hadn't been
used for a long time, all the ash blown away, and Naiva saw no sign of stockpiled fuel. They
found a track, a switchback down the steep canyon face. The sun wasn't yet at zenith, and
shadows filled the canyon, so they walked with care for where they set their feet. The track
wasn't more than a hand's span across. It would be easy to tumble down onto the ice-ridden
spikes of the hedrons. The noise of the wind fell away as they descended, drowning them in a
dense hush like their ears were stuffed with cloth. A deep, soundless vibration hummed up
through the soles of their boots in a slow rhythm that reminded Naiva of breathing, not that
there was anything alive down here except the two girls. Not even birds flew. When she
licked her lips, the air almost seemed to spark on her tongue, as if they were walking into an
invisible sheet of frozen lightning.

At last the trail bottomed out, catching them in a dead end. Angled hedron walls confined
them. There was nowhere to go except back up the track.

Her twin had led her into a dead end, as always. The thought crept stealthily into Naiva's
mind. She always had to follow the path Grandmother set out for Baishya instead of
commanding the glory due to her for her hunting prowess. She deserved more.

"Nai?"

"What?" Startled, Naiva turned to see Baishya watching her through narrowed eyes.

"There was just something funny about your eyes but it's gone. Look here what I've found."
She fixed a hand around a lower corner of one of the hedrons. As if it were a dragon's scale
come loose, she shifted a slate-like slab of rock to reveal an opening big enough to crawl
through.

"Don't go in there!"

Baishya dropped to her knees and crawled in. Her feet vanished. The ground thrummed, then
quieted.

Naiva prided herself on her courage. The sight of that gap into a murky darkness no light
could penetrate struck a blade of terror into her heart. Coward! All her life she'd been
reminded over and over that she was to protect her twin. For so long she'd thought it was
because Baishya was weaker, frailer, less competent, maybe a person who the tribe would
decide wasn't worth feeding. But it wasn't like that at all.

Grandmother loves her better than she loves you. You can leave her. No one will miss her,
and then Grandmother will love you more.
The thought nagged. She took a step away, toward the track. Another step.

You have a greater destiny. You will become the most magnificent hunter known to your
people. It will be easy, once you no longer have her to burden you.

But duty and love rooted her feet. It was impossible to walk away and leave her twin behind.
They had been born together, pulled from the bloody womb of their dead mother, hand
clasped to hand. To betray that bond was to betray her own self.

So she knelt and ducked inside the hedron.

A gleaming mist drifted before her eyes, obscuring her vision. Colors twisted like threads,
shimmering, dizzying. The space was vast, immeasurable, the heady breath of eternity sweet
against her face. The space was as small as a skin tent raised against the snow in midwinter,
cramped and humid. Baishya lay sprawled across the ground as if asleep, one hand limp at
her side and the other extended above her head to grasp an object Naiva could not see.

The air clotted in Naiva's lungs. She fell forward as her vision hazed. With her last conscious
breath, she clasped her twin's hand, skin to skin. The magic of the hedrons opened a gate
mind to mind. The Spirit Dragon's essence rose like a cliff of ice around her, glittering and
impassable. She fell into the vision where Baishya had already plunged.

Ugin, the Spirit Dragon | Art by: Chris Rahn

THE LANDSCAPE IS A SILVERY SHEET OF WATER AS FLAT AND REFLECTIVE AS A MIRROR

EXTENDING TO THE HORIZON ON ALL SIDES. HERE AND THERE ROCKY ISLANDS LIKE SPIRES RISE
FROM THE ENDLESS SEA, EACH CREATING A PERFECT RESTING PLACE ON WHICH TO MEDITATE.

NO WIND STIRS THE AIR, YET GLIMMERING, TRANSLUCENT GLOBES FLOAT LIKE BUBBLES
CAUGHT IN A BREEZE THAT TOUCHES NOTHING ELSE.
ONE OF THESE GLOBES DRIFTS CLOSE, AND CLOSER YET TO THE DREAMING SHADOW OF THE
GIRL ASLEEP ATOP THE WATERS. WHEN ITS FRAIL SURFACE TOUCHES THE EDGE OF HER MISTY
FORM, IT POPS. THE THIN SPHERE OF LIQUID SPILLS MEMORY INTO THE SHADOW OF HER MIND.

A DRAGON HOVERS OVER THE STILL WATERS, STARING INTO ITS REFLECTION, A MIRROR WHICH
LOOKS BACK ON ITSELF. THE REFLECTION IS SO COMPLETE IN EVERY DETAIL THAT IT MIGHT BE
THE ORIGINAL DRAGON LOOKING INTO A MIRRORING SEA, AND THE DRAGON FLOATING ALOFT
MIGHT BE ITS REFLECTION, COMPLETE IN EVERY DETAIL.

"WHAT IS THIS PLACE?" THE DRAGON SAYS AND, HEARING HIS OWN VOICE, LASHES HIS TAIL IN
SURPRISE. BUT THE LASHING TAIL STIRS NO WIND. THE WATERS DO NOT RIPPLE. ONLY THE
REFLECTION MOVES AS THE DRAGON ANSWERS ITSELF.

"THIS MUST BE ONE OF THE PLANES OF WHICH TE JU KI SPEAKS. I HAVE WALKED BETWEEN
WORLDS . . ."

THE REALIZATION SPARKS A BILLOW OF SHIMMERING, LIGHTLESS FLAME THAT SEEMS TO

ENFOLD THE DRAGON, AND JUST LIKE THAT IT VANISHES.

THE WATER WAITS MOTIONLESS, CALM, AND YET EXPECTANT, ALMOST AWARE. ANOTHER
GLOBE SPINS UP TO THE SHADOW OF THE SLEEPING GIRL, AND POPS.

THE DRAGON FALLS IN CONFUSION, OPENING ITS WINGS AT THE LAST MOMENT TO SETTLE ATOP
A JAGGED PEAK. BUT THIS IS NOT ITS SMOOTH-SLOPED BIRTH MOUNTAIN PRESIDING OVER A
MAGNIFICENT, RICH LANDSCAPE. THIS IS A WILD, STORMY, RUGGED WORLD ONLY HALF BORN,
CALLED TARKIR. FEROCIOUS WINDS GREET THE DRAGON IN SAVAGE GUSTS. THE MOUNTAINS
SING, SPILLING ARIAS OF FIERY LAVA, AND THE RIVERS GUSH IN A RUSHING CHATTER OF
DELIGHT. THE HEARTS OF THE DRAGON FEEL TOUCHED AS BY HOME. THIS WILDERNESS CAN BE
TENDED, NOT TO CREATE THE GARDEN OF HIS DESIRES BUT TO BECOME ITSELF, TO FULFILL THE
PROMISE OF ITS NASCENT SOUL.

SO, HE BURROWS INTO THE SOIL AND DIGS OUT THE CREATURES OF EARTH. HE SWIMS IN THE
CHURNING RIVERS AND RESTLESS SEAS AND HEAVY MIRES, AND EACH FOAMY RIPPLE BOILS A
MYRIAD OF CREATURES INTO THE WATERS. THE BEAT OF HIS WINGS CRACKS THUNDER AND
LIGHTNING THROUGH THE SKY, AND THIS TEMPEST BIRTHS DRAGONS. EVEN FIRE BEGETS LIVING
THINGS, SPLENDID IN THEIR HEAT AND BEAUTY.

OR AT LEAST, THIS IS A STORY THE HUMANOIDS OFTEN TELL AS THEY WEAVE TALES ABOUT THE
MOST ANCIENT OF DAYS, FOR THOSE WHO WITNESS THE DRAGON'S MAJESTY AND POWER
CANNOT HELP BUT WISH TO BE ASSOCIATED WITH ITS GRANDEUR. AS A KNOWLEDGE OF MAGIC
ARISES AMONG THE VARIOUS PEOPLES, SHAMANS SEEK THE DRAGON'S TUTELAGE. TO THE
WISEST, HE RELATES THE STORY OF THE JOURNEY THAT BROUGHT HIM TO TARKIR. IN TELLING
THE TALE, HE DISCOVERS THAT THE WORST EDGE OF THE SHOCK AND BETRAYAL HAVE WORN
OFF. WHAT HAS HAPPENED TO HIS TWIN ? HAS NICOL SURVIVED? WHAT OF THEIR BIRTH
PLANE? IF HE COULD WALK THE PLANES ONCE, SURELY, HE CAN DO SO AGAIN.

HE SEEKS IN HIS MIND FOR THE SPARK THAT OPENS THE WAY BETWEEN WORLDS. IN A WASH OF
INVISIBLE, RIPPLING FLAME, HE SHIFTS THROUGH A BLIND, DISORIENTING DARKNESS AND,
AFTER A MOMENT OF STOMACH-CHURNING UNPLEASANTNESS, FINDS HIMSELF AGAIN FLOATING
ABOVE THE STILL WATERS AND THEIR MYSTERIOUS AURA OF MEDITATIVE PEACE.

Island | Art by: Florian de Gesincourt

HE STARES AT HIS PERFECT IMAGE STARING BACK AT HIMSELF.

A SINGLE DROP OF WATER FALLS FROM THE LAMBENT SKY, OR PERHAPS FROM HIS OWN EYE,
AND STRIKES THE WATER. THE RIPPLE OF ITS PASSAGE OPENS A VISTA. THROUGH THIS WINDOW,
HE SEES THE BIRTH MOUNTAIN, STILL PROUD, STILL SNOW-CAPPED, BUT MARRED NOW BY AN
UNSIGHTLY GROWTH.

LIKE AN UNVOICED ROAR OF ANGUISH, ALL THE THICK, CLOTTED EMOTION HE THOUGHT HE
HAD LEFT BEHIND SWELLS UP IN A FIERCE SURGE. THE SPARK GIVES HIM PASSAGE; HE TWISTS
THROUGH SHADOW, AND THEN HE IS THERE, FALLING OUT OF THE SKY TOWARD THE BIRTH
MOUNTAIN.

HE PULLS UP ONTO A MIGHTY CURRENT OF WIND AND CIRCLES THE MOUNTAIN, CYCLING LOWER
AND LOWER UNTIL HE SEES THAT SOMEONE HAS BUILT A TEMPLE ATOP THE MOUNTAIN. THIS
STRUCTURE IS A GAUDY SPECTACLE OF TIERED ROOFS PAINTED RED LIKE BLOOD AND TOPPED
BY TWO HUGE HORNS CURVING IN ON EACH OTHER. ROBED PRIESTS COME RUNNING, SEEING
HIM, AND THEY RING BELLS AND HAMMER ON DRUMS. SOME PROSTRATE THEMSELVES AS IF IN
WORSHIP, WHILE OTHERS WEAVE MAGIC AND FLING IT AT HIM LIKE A NET MEANT TO CAPTURE
AND DRAG HIM DOWN.

HE EVADES THESE CRUDE DISPLAYS OF MAGIC AND FLIES DOWN THE MOUNTAIN, SEEKING
ANYTHING FAMILIAR. THE CLEARING WHERE MERREVIA SAL WAS KILLED, WHERE THE OLD
CHIEF BUILT HIS TEMPLE, IS NOW THE CENTRAL SQUARE OF A GRAND CITY THAT SPRAWLS
DOWN THE SKIRTS OF THE MOUNTAIN TO REACH ALL THE WAY TO WHERE THE OLD SETTLEMENT
ONCE STOOD.

SO MANY HUMANOIDS TREAD THE CITY'S STREETS THAT HE CANNOT COUNT THEM. THEIR
VOICES RUSH LIKE THE CHATTER OF BOUNDLESS RIVERS, BUT BENEATH THE BUSTLE AND
LIVELINESS DWELLS A TAINTED STILLNESS. A FESTERING DARKNESS PAVES THE ALLEYWAYS
AND TENEMENTS AND INSINUATES ITSELF INTO EVERY TRANSACTION. BENEATH THE
PROSPERITY OF THOSE WHO WEAR A BADGE SEWN WITH CURVED HORNS, OF THOSE WHO FEAST
AT GRAND TABLES AND SERVE IN OPULENT TEMPLES, OF THOSE WHO CARRY IRON SWORDS AND
SPEARS AS THEY SWAGGER ABOUT THEIR BUSINESS, CREEP THE SHACKLED AND THE STARVING,
THE SLAVE AND THE SHUNNED. THIS PLACE LOOKS LITTLE DIFFERENT AT ROOT THAN THE OLD
BLOOD-SOAKED SETTLEMENT OF THE DRAGON-KILLING CHIEF, JUST GROWN AND
METASTASIZED.

WHO RULES HERE NOW?

BUT HE KNOWS IN HIS HEARTS WHO RULES HERE.

HE RECOGNIZES THE SHAPE OF THE CURVED HORNS.

MY BROTHER. MY TWIN.

HE BETRAYS ME STILL, THE PROMISES WE MADE, THE BOND WE SHARED.

WITH A HOWL OF FRUSTRATION, OF RAGE, OF GRIEF, HE VANISHES IN A RIPPLE OF INVISIBLE

FIRE. AFTER A GUT- TWISTING PASSAGE THROUGH THE BLIND DARKNESS, HE EMERGES AGAIN
ABOVE THE DREAMING MIRROR.

THE CALM WATERS SOOTHE HIS TROUBLED HEART. THE CURSED LASH OF EMOTION EASES. FOR
YEARS UNCOUNTED, HE HOVERS ABOVE THE WATERS, LOST IN THOUGHT AND LOST TO EGO 'S
PURPOSE. THE WORLD ON WHICH HE FIRST FELL TO EARTH—DOMINARIA—IS BUT ONE AMONG
MANY. WHY WEIGHT HIMSELF WITH THE PAST WHEN AN ENTIRE UNIVERSE OF WORLDS AWAITS
EXPLORATION? HE IS NOT CONFINED TO THE BIRTH MOUNTAIN OR EVEN TO TARKIR, HIS SOUL'S
HOME. THE UNIVERSE IS GREATER THAN HE IS, AND THAT IS AS IT SHOULD BE. A NEW PEACE
SETTLES INTO HIS HEARTS. WITH ELATION, WITH JOY, WITH PURPOSE, WITH TRANQUILITY, HE
LAUNCHES HIMSELF IN A RIPPLE OF INVISIBLE FLAME.

THE DRAGON VANISHES.

THE WATER WAITS MOTIONLESS, CALM, AND YET EXPECTANT, ALMOST AWARE. ANOTHER
GLOBE SPINS UP TO THE SHADOW OF THE SLEEPING GIRL, AND POPS.

HE WALKS THE PLANES, WONDERS AND DANGERS UNFOLDING AS HE CROSSES FROM PLANE TO
PLANE. TUMULTUOUS ZENDIKAR. MOON-HAUNTED INNISTRAD. SUN-DRENCHED LORWYN.
STURDY ALARA WITH ITS MANA IN PERFECT BALANCE. SHANDALAR'S VERDANT FLOW OF
MAGIC. AND SO MANY MORE, SOME VAST AND SATURATED WITH MANA, SOME ATTENUATED
SHARDS LEACHED OF LIFE AND MAGIC BOTH.

Jund | Art by: Aleksi Briclot

DID EVEN TE JU KI SUSPECT HOW MANIFOLD THE UNIVERSE IS? THE GRANDEUR OF THE
MULTIVERSE AWES HIM; ITS MAGNITUDE HUMBLES HIM.

YET AGAIN AND AGAIN HIS THOUGHTS CIRCLE BACK TO HIS TWIN. HE HAS AVOIDED
DOMINARIA ALL THIS TIME, FEELING TRAPPED AND DIMINISHED IN THE CONFINES OF HIS PAST.
MAYBE HE IS TOO QUICK TO BE SUSPICIOUS OF NICOL, WHO AFTER ALL WAS A VERY YOUNG
DRAGON AND PRONE, AS YOUTH IS, TO IMPULSIVE MISTAKES. MAYBE HE MISINTERPRETED THE
CURVED HORNS AND WHAT THEY MEAN.

HE SUFFERS FROM PRIDE TOO, LIKE HIS TWIN, UNABLE TO LET GO OF A PAST INJURY. HE MIGHT
HAVE SEEN WHAT HE WANTED TO SEE RATHER THAN EXPLORED MORE FULLY TO FIND OUT THE
TRUTH. SURELY, TRUTH IS MORE IMPORTANT THAN PRIDE, MORE SATISFYING THAN POWER.

HE WILL FIND NICOL, AND IT WILL ALL GO BACK TO WHAT IT ONCE WAS BETWEEN THEM. HE'S
SURE OF IT.

BY NOW, HE HAS MASTERED PLANESWALKING. IN THE BLINK OF AN EYE, AND WITH A RIPPLE OF
INVISIBLE FLAME, HE IS GONE.
THE WATER WAITS MOTIONLESS, CALM, AND YET EXPECTANT, ALMOST AWARE. ANOTHER
GLOBE SPINS UP TO THE SHADOW OF THE SLEEPING GIRL, AND POPS.

BANNERS RIPPLING IN THE WIND, ARMIES MARCH ACROSS THE PLAINS OF JAMURAA. IN THEIR
WAKE SPREADS THE WRECKAGE OF A GREAT WAR: BROKEN BODIES, RUINED CITIES, AND LANDS
POISONED BY BATTLES WAGED THROUGH MERCILESS SORCERY AND THE SHATTERING MIGHT OF
DRAGONS. HERE AND THERE, FLAGS MARKED WITH THE CROWN OF ARCADES SABBOTH LIE
CRUSHED IN THE DIRT AND MUD WHERE COHORTS HAVE FALLEN TO A PURSUING ARMY.
STANDARDS BEARING THE CURVED HORNS ADVANCE UNTIL THE PROUD SURVIVORS OF THE
FLEEING ARMY GATHER AND BRACE FOR ONE FINAL ENGAGEMENT.

THE LAST GREAT CLASH OPENS WITH THE HOWLS OF SOLDIERS DRIVEN TO MADNESS BY
GENERATIONS OF WAR. CLAPS OF SORCEROUS THUNDER BURST THE HEARTS OF THE ENEMY.

UGIN STARES IN HORROR AS LESSER DRAGONS, UNKNOWN TO HIM, FIGHT AND FALL IN THE
FIRST CHARGE. ARCADES SABBOTH COMMANDS WITH BRILLIANCE, FLYING THIS WAY AND THAT
TO FEND OFF A FLANKING MANEUVER HERE AND AN ASSAULT OF SORCERY THERE. BUT ALWAYS
NICOL IS THERE TO COUNTER HIM, CEASELESSLY PATROLLING THE LINES OF BATTLE AS
COMPANIES OF SOLDIERS AND SORCERERS VIE FOR THE HONOR OF FIGHTING IN THE FRONT LINE
WHERE HE CAN SEE THEM. BOTH ARE SO INTENT ON THE BATTLE THAT THEY DON'T NOTICE HIM,
HIGH ABOVE THEM IN THE SKY.

IN A FLASH OF ANGER, AND OF SHAME AT HIMSELF FOR STAYING AWAY FOR SO LONG, THE
DRAGON FURLS HIS WINGS AND DIVES. ON HIS TRAVELS, HE HAS LEARNED SORCERY TO SHIELD
HIMSELF AGAINST SPEARS OF IRON AND NETS OF DEADLY MAGIC, SO HE HURLS HIMSELF
BETWEEN THE TWO ARMIES AND SPREADS HIS WINGS IN A SHIMMER OF INVISIBLE FLAME TO
HANG THERE BETWEEN THEM LIKE AN APPARITION. THE SHOCKED TROOPS PULL BACK. EVEN
HIS WARRING SIBLINGS ARE ASTONISHED ENOUGH BY HIS UNEXPECTED APPEARANCE TO BREAK
OFF THE FIGHT.

NOW THAT HE HAS THEIR ATTENTION THE DRAGON ROARS. "NICOL! ARCADES! YOU MUST PUT
A STOP TO THIS! I T'S WRONG!"

"I FIGHT ONLY TO PROTECT MY PEOPLE!" ARCADES ANSWERS IN A FURIOUS BELLOW. BUT HE IS
CANNY, AND NOTICES AT ONCE THAT NICOL'S ATTENTION HAS FALLEN AWAY FROM HIM AND
HIS ARMY AND ONTO THE INTERLOPER.

AS THE DRAGON HOVERS BETWEEN THEM, ARCADES WHIPS THE REMNANTS OF HIS RAGGED
ARMY INTO A FULL-SCALE RETREAT.
THE LINE OF THE OTHER ARMY AWAITS ITS ORDERS.

NICOL GAZES IN SHOCK UPON THE REVENANT THAT CONFRONTS HIM.

"WHAT SORCERY IS THIS?" HE DEMANDS. "UGIN IS DEAD."

"NO SORCERY. DON'T YOU KNOW ME, NICOL?"

"THIS IS SOME CURSED MAGIC WIELDED BY ARCADES!"

HE SURGES FORWARD AND, WITH A BLAST OF FIRE, ATTEMPTS TO OBLITERATE THE MIRAGE.
BUT UGIN'S MAGIC IS POWERFUL, KNIT FROM ALL OF MAGIC'S SPECTRUM. NICOL'S RAGE
STREAMS HARMLESSLY OFF TO DISSIPATE IN THE AIR. THE TERRIFIED ARMY HOLDS ITS GROUND,
EVEN THOSE STRUCK BY BURNING SPARKS WHO WRITHE IN TORMENT AS THEY FALL.

"NICOL! STOP! IT'S TRULY ME."

"YOU'RE DEAD. I SAW YOU ANNIHILATED BY A VILE BURST OF HUMAN SORCERY. IT WAS THEIR
REVENGE FOR MY VICTORY, DESTROYING WHAT I LOVE MOST. BUT I AVENGED YOU. I SET OUT
TO MAKE THE WORLD WORTHY OF YOUR VISION OF PEACE AND HARMONY."

"IS THIS WHAT YOU CALL PEACE AND HARMONY?"

"IT WILL BE. COME SEE WHAT I HAVE ACCOMPLISHED. COME, UGIN."

HIS WORDS ARE SO HEARTFELT. YET HE ABANDONS HIS SOLDIERS, LEAVING THEM TO PICK UP
THEIR DEAD AND WOUNDED. SCOUTS FROM ARCADES'S RETREATING ARMY RIDE TO REPORT ON
THIS ABRUPT CHANGE OF CIRCUMSTANCES, HOW THE VICTOR HAS RELINQUISHED HIS
ADVANTAGE ON THE FIELD. BUT UGIN CANNOT STAY TO SEE WHAT ARCADES MEANS TO DO,
MUCH LESS SPARE AN HOUR OR A DAY TO TALK TO HIS OLDER BROTHER, TO ASK WHAT HAS
HAPPENED IN THE YEARS OR CENTURIES SINCE HE LEFT.

HE CAME TO FIND NICOL, SO HE FOLLOWS HIS TWIN. THEY FLY ACROSS THE PLAINS AND
MOUNTAINS OF JAMURAA AND THENCE ACROSS THE OCEAN, PASSING OVER OTHER ISLANDS
AND CONTINENTS. DOMINARIA IS BEAUTIFUL, WROUGHT WITH CASCADING WATERFALLS AND
SPLENDID MOUNTAIN RANGES, LUSH PASTURES AND FLOURISHING FORESTS THAT BREATHE LIFE
INTO THE AIR, COLORFUL REEFS AND SPARKLING SAND-STREWN ISLANDS. BUT AMID THE
STRIKING LANDSCAPE NESTLES THE RESIDUE OF WAR: BLIGHTED FIELDS, SCORCHED VILLAGES,
SCATTERED BONES. EVEN THE LAND HAS BEEN WARPED BY DIRE MAGIC WIELDED WITHOUT
THOUGHT FOR ITS CONSEQUENCES: RIVERS BLOCKED UNTIL THE WATERS FLOOD HAPLESS
SETTLEMENTS, CANYONS GOUGED THROUGH PEACEFUL PLAINS, AVALANCHES BURYING QUIET
VALLEYS. NICOL SURVEYS THE LANDSCAPE WITH A SATISFIED SMILE, SEEMING NOT TO NOTICE
ANY OF THIS HORRIFYING DESTRUCTION.
 Tectonic Rift | Art by: John Avon

"DID YOU EVER SUSPECT THE WORLD IS SO VAST A PLACE, UGIN? I HAVE TRAVELED
EVERYWHERE, NO PLACE TOO SMALL OR TOO GRAND THAT I HAVE NOT SET CLAW UPON IT.
HALF OF IT I NOW RULE, AS I HAVE RISEN FROM LEAST TO GREATEST. ALL OF DOMINARIA WILL
SOON KNEEL BEFORE ME. NO ONE DARES CALL ME "LEAST" NOW. AND YOU ARE RETURNED TO
SHARE THIS TRIUMPH WITH ME."

AT LAST THEY REACH THE CONTINENT OF THEIR BIRTH, AND THE BIRTH MOUNTAIN. THE
CRATER'S PEAK IS BARE EXCEPT FOR A PAIR OF CURVED HORNS CRAFTED FROM MARBLE,
MAKING IT SEEM THE MOUNTAIN ITSELF HAS HORNS.

"WAS THERE NOT A TEMPLE BUILT HERE?" UGIN ASKS.

"THERE WAS, A LONG TIME AGO, BUT I REALIZED IT WASN'T FITTING FOR HUMANOIDS TO SET
THEIR FEET ATOP SACRED GROUND MEANT ONLY FOR DRAGONS. ONLY FOR ME." HE LANDS
GRACEFULLY, LEAVING ROOM FOR UGIN TO SETTLE BESIDE HIM. "FOR YOU AS WELL. I MISSED
YOU SO MUCH, UGIN. MY ANGUISH CRUSHED ME. I THOUGHT OF YOU EVERY DAY, WONDERING
WHAT HAD BECOME OF YOU AND HOW YOU WERE FARING. SO, TELL ME, HOW DO YOU LIKE MY
DOMAIN?"

UGIN IS SILENT FOR SO LONG THAT AT LENGTH, NICOL, LOST IN CONTEMPLATION OF HIS
MAGNIFICENCE, REALIZES HE HAS NOT ANSWERED.

"SHARE YOUR THOUGHTS WITH ME, BROTHER. IS IT NOT REMARKABLE WHAT I HAVE
ACHIEVED? EVEN YOU MUST ADMIT NO CREATURE HAS EVER HELD SO MUCH POWER OVER SO
MANY AS I DO."

THE WORDS SPILL OUT LIKE FIRE. "YOU TRIED TO INFLUENCE ME WITH THAT TRICK OF THE
MIND. HOW COULD YOU, NICOL? BAD ENOUGH THAT YOU WORKED SUCH A TERRIBLE MAGIC
UPON OTHERS BUT ON ME, YOUR TWIN!"

"YOU DISLIKED THE 'TRICK' NEVER SO MUCH AS WHEN IT WORKED AGAINST YOU." NICOL
CHUCKLES SOFTLY. "I WAS YOUNG, AND TESTING MY POWER. BUT NOW I HAVE NO NEED OF
SUCH INSECURITIES. I AM EMPEROR OF ALL, OR WILL BE SOON."
"ALL? YOU THINK THIS IS ALL?" UGIN LAUGHS, HIS BELLY CHURNING WITH AN ANGER HE DOES
NOT UNDERSTAND.

NICOL HUFFS, HEAD SLEWING AROUND TO GLARE AT HIM. "WHY DO YOU LAUGH? POWER IS
NOTHING TO MOCK."

"THIS IS BUT ONE SHARD OF A MYRIAD SHARDS. NOT INSIGNIFICANT TO THOSE WHO LIVE AND
DIE HERE, OF COURSE. BUT COMPARED TO THE MULTIVERSE THAT LIES BEYOND, IT IS LIKE
CLAIMING THIS MOUNTAIN AS THE ENTIRE WORLD WHEN IT IS BUT A TINY FRAGMENT OF THE
WHOLE."

"WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?"

"I'M TALKING ABOUT WHAT TE JU KI TAUGHT ME—"

"THAT OLD HUMAN IS LONG VANQUISHED BY DEATH AND HER PRATTLING WISDOM NOTHING
MORE THAN DUST. WHILE YOU AND I ARE STILL HERE."

"IF THAT IS WHAT YOU THINK THEN YOU DO NOT UNDERSTAND DEATH OR WISDOM. I THOUGHT
THERE WAS MORE TO YOU THAN THIS, NICOL. DO YOU REALLY BELIEVE THIS PETTY
WARMONGERING AND CONQUEST MEANS ANYTHING IN THE VAST REACHES OF THE UNIVERSE?"

SPARKS PUFF FROM NICOL'S NOSTRILS. A SULPHUROUS WISP OF SMOKE HISSES FROM HIS
MOUTH. BUT FOR A LONG, LONG WHILE, HE REMAINS SILENT.

THE WIND SKIRLS ATOP THE MOUNTAIN. SNOW STARTS TO FALL. THE FLAKES THAT LAND ON
THE DRAGONS' SCALY HIDES VAPORIZE INSTANTLY. WATER DRIPS ONTO THE ROCK, PUDDLING
AND THEN FREEZING. FAR BELOW, SNOW DRAPES THE SURROUNDING LANDSCAPE IN WINTER'S
MANTLE. UGIN DOES NOT REMEMBER IT EVER GROWING SO COLD HERE, BUT THE BALMY
CLIMATE HAS CLEARLY CHANGED. EVEN THE ONCE GREAT CITY HAS SEEMINGLY DISSOLVED,
OVERTAKEN BY FOREST THAT HAS WRAPPED ITSELF AROUND CRUMBLING TOWERS AND
UPROOTED NOBLE AVENUES. IN THE DISTANCE, A RING OF FORTRESSES PROTECT ALL
APPROACHES TO THE BASE OF THE MOUNTAIN. BEYOND THESE OUTPOSTS LIE TEMPLES CAPPED
WITH HORNS, AND BEYOND THE TEMPLES LIE TOWNS TOO FAR AWAY TO BE SEEN EXCEPT BY
DRAGON EYES. BUT EVERY FORTRESS AND TEMPLE AND TOWN FACES INWARD TOWARD THE
MOUNTAIN, AS IF ALL THAT MATTERS TO NICOL ANYMORE IS THAT EVERY FACE IS TURNED
TOWARD HIM TO PRAISE HIM.

NICOL SPEAKS IN A CONTEMPLATIVELY WISTFUL VOICE. "HAVE YOU RETURNED ONLY TO

INSULT ME? I THOUGHT WE WERE TWINS, NOT RIVALS!"

BEGUILED BY THE WORDS, UGIN SOFTENS. "OF COURSE WE ARE TWINS, NOT RIVALS. OUR
BOND, OUR BROTHERHOOD, IS THE ONLY REASON I RETURNED TO FIND YOU. IF I HADN'T COME
BACK, I WOULD BE DISCOVERING ALL THE WONDERS THAT LIE BEYOND THIS SMALL WORLD."
NICOL'S EYES NARROW WITH A LOOK OF ALARMING INQUISITIVENESS. "WHERE HAVE YOU
BEEN ? IF IT WASN'T A SORCEROUS SPELL THAT CAUSED YOU TO VANISH RIGHT BEFORE MY EYES
IN A RIPPLE OF MAGIC, THEN WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU?"

"I AM A PLANESWALKER NOW."

NICOL STARES AT HIM, EYES GLEAMING.

"I AM NOT EVEN SURE THERE IS ANOTHER LIKE ME. I HAVE FOUND NO TRACE OF ANY OTHER
CREATURE WHO CAN WALK BETWEEN WORLDS."

NICOL BLINKS BUT SAYS NOTHING.

"I DON'T KNOW WHY, OR HOW, IT HAPPENED. ONLY THAT I WAS ON DOMINARIA, FACING YOU,
AND THEN, SUDDENLY, I WAS FLUNG BEYOND THIS PLANE. IT SHOCKED ME AT THE TIME. I WAS
BEWILDERED AND CONFUSED. BUT I HAVE SINCE DISCOVERED THERE ARE MANY PLANES, MANY
WORLDS. THEY ARE LINKED BY A SHADOWY SPACE, A WEB OF DARKNESS TO WHICH
EVERYTHING ATTACHES. BY MOVING IN AND OUT THROUGH THE WEB, I CAN PASS FROM ONE
WORLD TO ANOTHER. SUCH WONDERS I HAVE SEEN! A HUNDRED WORLDS I HAVE VISITED. TO
RULE DOMINARIA IS ALL VERY WELL FOR A SMALL- MINDED DESPOT LIKE THAT OLD CHIEF WHO
KILLED OUR INJURED SISTER AND BELIEVED IT MADE HIM DIVINE AND INVINCIBLE. BUT HE AND
HIS SQUALID HEIRS WERE NOTHING MORE THAN NEGLIGIBLE TYRANTS COMPARED TO THE
ETERNITY AND INFINITY OF—"

Crucible of Worlds | Art by: Ron Spencer

"ARE YOU COMPARING ME TO THOSE PATHETIC, WEAK, SHORT-LIVED HUMANS WHO I

DESTROYED WITH THE MOST SUPERFICIAL FLICKER OF MY MIND?" THE WORDS EMERGE IN THE
BAREST WHISPER.

"WHEN I LOOK AT WHAT YOU HAVE WROUGHT WITH THESE POINTLESS WARS AGAINST OUR
DRAGON BRETHREN? HEAR YOU BOAST OF IT AS A PUNY CHILD MIGHT BRAG OF KILLING A FLY
BY SAYING THEY HAVE KILLED A MIGHTY DRAGON? YES, I DO COMPARE YOU TO SUCH
PATHETIC CREATURES. FOR AT LEAST THEY DO NOT KNOW BETTER. YOU SHOULD KNOW
BETTER."
"HOW LONG HAVE YOU KNOWN HOW TO DO THIS?"

"SINCE THAT DAY. THE DAY YOU TRIED TO MANIPULATE MY THOUGHTS."

"THAT DAY HAPPENED FOUR OR FIVE THOUSAND YEARS AGO AS HUMANOIDS MEASURE TIME.
AND YOU NEVER THOUGHT TO RETURN UNTIL NOW? NEVER SAID TO YOURSELF, I MUST SHARE
THIS MOMENTOUS REVELATION OF PLANESWALKING WITH MY BROTHER, MY TWIN?"

"HOW COULD I TRUST YOU? YOU TRIED TO MANIPULATE ME—"

"SHOW ME HOW TO WALK THE PLANES. TAKE ME WITH YOU."

EAGERLY UGIN BEGINS. "YOU FOCUS YOUR WILL UPON THE SPARK INSIDE YOU AND . . ."

HE BREAKS OFF. IT WAS A SPARK BORN INSIDE HIM THAT GAVE HIM THE CAPACITY TO
PLANESWALK. WITHOUT THE SPARK, THE PATHS BETWEEN WORLDS ARE SIMPLY A CLOSED
DOOR.

"YOU CAN'T TELL ME, CAN YOU?" SNEERS NICOL. "IT'S ALL A LIE, ISN'T IT? YOU'VE BEEN
HIDING ALL THIS TIME IN A COWARD'S SANCTUARY. NOW WHEN I HAVE ALMOST CONQUERED
THE WORLD—THE ONLY WORLD THERE IS—YOU RETURN LIKE A HUNGRY RAT HOPING TO
STEAL MY GLORY AND CLAIM IT FOR YOURSELF."

"YOU DON'T BELIEVE ME."

"OF COURSE I DON'T BELIEVE YOU. YOU ARE A LIAR. YOU HAVE ALWAYS BEEN A COWARD AND
A LIAR. THIS IS THE GREATEST LIE OF ALL, BORN DEEP IN YOUR FRIGHTENED, ENVIOUS HEART
THAT I HAVE ACCOMPLISHED ALL THE THINGS YOU'VE NEVER HAD THE COURAGE OR THE
STRENGTH OF WILL TO BRING ABOUT. IT WAS ALWAYS ABOUT ME, WASN'T IT, UGIN?"

"YOU CAN ONLY SEE YOURSELF IN EVERYTHING THAT HAPPENS. WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU?"

"NOTHING HAPPENED TO ME. I AM AS I HAVE ALWAYS BEEN."

"YES, MAYBE THAT'S TRUE. MAYBE ALL ALONG IT IS I WHO HAVE BEEN LYING TO MYSELF,
THINKING YOU WERE BETTER."

"THE LIE IS THAT YOU HAVE ALL ALONG BELIEVED YOU WERE BETTER THAN ME. YOU'RE THE
MANIPULATOR, UGIN. NOT ME. I HAVE ONLY EVER DONE WHAT I NEEDED TO HELP US SURVIVE.
I HAVE ONLY EVER KEPT FAITH WITH YOU AND WITH OUR MURDERED SISTER. WHAT HAVE YOU
DONE EXCEPT CRAVENLY HIDE AWAY, ABANDONING ME? YOU ONLY CAME CRAWLING BACK
WHEN I HAD DONE ALL THE HARD WORK OF MAKING THE WORLD SAFE FOR US."

"YOU ARE RIGHT. I SHOULD NEVER HAVE COME BACK. SO BE IT. ENJOY YOUR ASCENDANCY
OVER DOMINARIA. IT'S ALL YOU'LL EVER KNOW, WHILE UNTOLD WORLDS LIE FOREVER BEYOND
YOUR REACH."

ENRAGED, FURIOUS, HEARTBROKEN, UGIN VANISHES IN A RIPPLE OF INVISIBLE FIRE.

A jolt rolled Naiva off her side. As her back hit the cold wall of the hedron, she opened her
eyes in shock. Her hand had lost hold of Baishya's fingers, the contact broken. Her twin still
breathed, chest rising and falling in slow swells. Beneath the closed eyelids her eyes moved
restlessly, darting as if trying to take in an endless stream of sights. Was she caught in
memories, or in false dreams? Was what they were seeing real, or an illusion?

A hunter trusted the evidence in front of her eyes: the imprint of hooves or paws, broken
grass revealing a trail, the smells on the ground and in the air, the rustling of a beast's passage
or its vocalizations marking its position. How could anyone trust stories handed down from
the ancient past or dreams bubbling up from an unknown source? What if it was all lies?

A scuff sounded from outside, following by a slide of pebbles on the path. She ducked her
head out the small opening to see her Grandmother hastening down the switchback path.
Scrambling out, she grabbed her spear.

"Grandmother." She kept her voice low, glancing nervously up at the sky, although she could
not have said why, just that she felt a prickling on her back, a bristling along her neck, as if
the hunter was being hunted by a predator much larger and more deadly than any human.

"Naiva!" Grandmother set a firm hand on her shoulder, shaking her with a rare display of
concern. "Why did you two leave the safety of the cavern? Where is Baishya?"

Naiva indicated the low opening and murky interior. "I tried to stop her, but you know how
she is. The Spirit Dragon lured her down here and has trapped her in a strange realm of wide
water, like a mirror."

"Trapped her?"

"I followed her inside. When I took hold of her hand, I fell asleep too. I saw what she saw,
dreams that felt like memories. Then I rolled over and the contact between us broke, and I
woke up. But she's still sleeping. It's as if she can't stop."

"The Spirit Dragon is trying to speak to us."

"Ugin is dead."

"You keep saying that, but the ancestors never truly leave us unless we discard our memory
of them. What did you see?"

Naiva was no storyteller. Instead, like a hunter, she efficiently described the strange
landscape and the floating bubbles. Grandmother listened closely and, after Naiva was done,
stood in silence, her expression as focused as if she were hunting through the words for the
secret she was looking for.
At last, Naiva could take her silence no longer and broke in. "But what does it all mean? Why
is this all happening?"

"It seems Ugin is not dead after all. But not awake either. I must conclude the Spirit Dragon
is trying to communicate to us in the only way he can, as the ancestors sometimes do through
dreams and visions. The windfolk are more deeply attuned to the winds of magic, so he sent
them a vision out of the depths of his sleep. They called Baishya to him, knowing her for a
whisperer who can speak mind to mind." She paused. "As you and I cannot, Naiva. That is
not a lack in you and me. It just means Baishya has her own path in life."

"To pass on a vision to you telling you to come to this grave?"

Tomb of the Spirit Dragon | Art by: Sam Burley

"Perhaps. Tae Jin's master must be a powerful shaman. Thus, he too can receive a vision, and
thus, Tae Jin is sent to me in order to tell me the story Ugin told the Jeskai long ago. That
story must be important as part of what the Spirit Dragon wants me to know. But what am I
to learn from all these hints and landmarks? What does Ugin want me to see?"

"What if it's all lies, Grandmother? Dreams can be lies. Old stories can be lies."

Grandmother grabbed her chin and forced her to look at her, staring into her eyes as she
searchingly examined her face. "Your pupils look normal. Do you hear a whispering in your
head?"

"What do you mean? No! What do you think is happening?"

"Mevra and the others are almost certainly dead. What has taken Mevra's form I do not know,
but if what I suspect is true, then we are in terrible danger."

The flat way Grandmother spoke sent a shiver of fear through Naiva's flesh, a worm of cold
that nipped at her heart and made her feel faint. "What danger? Where are the others?"

"Hiding in the sacred cavern. You must go up to join them."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm not sure," said Grandmother. The three words were the most frightening thing Naiva had
heard in all her life, because Grandmother always knew what to do. "What warning the Spirit
Dragon is trying to give us may have come too late, but I must see if I can communicate with
Ugin myself to find out what he wants. If what you say is true, maybe I can reach his dreams
through Baishya."

A crack of noise brought her head up. Both of them stared at the canyon's rim, high above,
and rising beyond it the glossy blue glamor of the cloudless sky. The sun stood at zenith.
Nothing moved, not even a bird or an insect.

"My sweet child," Grandmother said in a low voice ragged with unexpected emotion. She
kissed her on either cheek. "Go quickly. Go quietly. Do you understand me? Let nothing
distract you."

She crawled in through the tiny opening, disappearing inside the hedron structure. A tremble
shivered the ground beneath Naiva's feet like the tremor from a distant earthquake or the
shudder of a creature rolling over deep underground.

"Grandmother?" she whispered.

No answer came.

A rush of fear spilled adrenalin through her muscles until she shook. Biting her lip, she
breathed down the wave of terror, but she couldn't help thinking of the two people she loved
most in the world lying asleep and unaware, utterly helpless. She set the broken piece of
crystal back across the opening to conceal it but without fixing it in place so it would be easy
to dislodge from the inside. After taking ten steps up the path she looked back. From this
distance, the hedron surface looked so smooth and unbroken she was abruptly afraid she had
accidentally trapped them, that they would struggle to break free only to find themselves in a
prison of her making. What if they died of thirst alongside the Spirit Dragon's bones?

She would just go back and check one more time. . . .

Movement flashed in the periphery of her vision. She whirled, pointing her spear toward the
path. A woman emerged from behind a ridge of rock, negotiating the last switchback before
the path took a straight line down to the base of the canyon. She was hugely pregnant but
remarkably light on her feet, strong and graceful, not lumbering at all. Naiva knew her at
once. Mevra's face was a familiar sight at the yearly gathering at Ayagor when the various
hunting parties and family groups were required to present themselves to Atarka. She was
related to Grandmother through grandmothers who were sisters, and for her own part was
also a hunt leader, intelligent and level-headed, one of the few people Grandmother genuinely
respected.

Mevra's face smiled, seeing Naiva. It was such a friendly, pleasant smile, so reassuring.

"Greetings, Little Sister. I've come so far to find you and your family, and to discover some
family of my own."
"Who are you?" Fear snapped in her voice and surged through her flesh, although she could
not have said why.

"Don't we know each other? What is your name and family?"

Naiva's mouth opened before she knew she meant to speak. The words just flowed out. "I am
Naiva, daughter of Kiarka, daughter of Yasova."

"Yasova! Why, it is Yasova I seek. Is she not here? Did I not see her descending toward this
place?"

"There is nothing here, as you see" Naiva concentrated on moving her right foot, anything to
get away, but the foot would not shift. A sick terror clawed up through her gut, and she
breathed it down until she could speak comprehensible words. "Nothing but these hedrons,
covering the bones of a dragon who died a long time ago."

"Not so long ago. A moment. A breath."

"My whole life ago," said Naiva.

"Ah, you are very young, a mere fledging."

"Who are you?"

"Don't you know me?"

By now Naiva's breath was coming in gasps, as if she'd been running and could not stop, and
yet she had not moved at all. The pregnant woman wearing Mevra's face descended lower
and lower, coming closer and closer. Her hunter's training raised every alarm: the woman had
no smell of felt or sweat, no glisten of oil on her uncovered cheeks. The wind did not stir any
loose strands of her black hair.

Her steps made no noise, not even the slightest scuff.

Her feet weren't touching the ground, a finger's breadth gap between the soles of her boots
and the rough dirt.

What had Grandmother said? Illusion may make us see what is not there.

"Who are you?" Naiva repeated recklessly, her hands grimly clutching the haft as she leveled
her spear at the woman, who was still descending with that eerie glide. "You aren't Mevra.
You're no kin of mine."

The pregnant woman halted. She blinked in a long slow lowering and raising of eyelids that
seemed to turn the day to dusk. Then she smiled, a little too widely, a little too brightly, a
little too warmly.

"A wise fledgling, to be so observant. Where is Yasova?"

"Not here, as you can see for yourself," said Naiva stoutly, although she felt dizzy with the
effort of staying upright. "Who are you? You're not Mevra. Your feet aren't even touching the
ground."

"A clever one!"

The pregnant woman's laughter filled the canyon, echoing off its high walls until Naiva fell to
her knees and, dropping her spear, clapped her hands over her ears. The laughter cracked as
the woman's smile widened, curling back around her head, mouth splitting as if cut by a blade
to expose her throat, lips peeling away to consume her head and then her shoulders and then
she turned inside out in a horrific distortion of birth. But what emerged from the melting
body of the woman twisted and stretched, growing as voraciously as if this new being wished
to consume the very heavens.

A dragon unfolded out of the illusion, so magnificent a creature that the memory of Atarka's
might seemed paltry in comparison. He was so big he blocked the sun, allowing its light to
limn his form on either side so he shone. Rainbows refracted around him, spilling arcs of
color across the sky as if in celebration of his arrival. In shock Naiva stared up at the curved
horns familiar to her from the strange memories she'd shared inside the hedron. A gleaming,
egg-shaped gem floated between the horns, turning slowly, mesmerizing.

Gem of Becoming | Art by: Jack Wang

"All will be well now," said the dragon in his soft, beguiling voice. "You are safe now, little
Naiva. All your troubles will be solved. Everything you have always wanted will become
yours for as long as you live. Trust me. I just need one thing. One little thing."

Never would she bow. Never would she cringe. Never. "What do you want?"

"I want Ugin."

"Ugin is dead."

"That's what I thought the first time I killed him, but he wasn't dead after all. This time I've
returned to make sure of it. You are the indomitable hunter, soon to be renowned as the
mightiest of all dragon killers, who is going to help me destroy him for all eternity."
CHRONICLE OF BOLAS:
PERSPECTIVES
Naiva gripped her spear, leaning on it so she would not collapse from sheer stark terror. The
huge dragon filled half the sky, blocking the canyon walls. He floated there effortlessly, his
expression amused at her pathetic attempt to look bold.

"Little one, you cannot defy me, much less defeat me. But with my help, you can rule this sad
little world and make it your own to do with as you wish. Just tell me where Ugin is, and why
these hedrons have filled the place he fell."

Her throat was so dry the words came out in a croak. "Why do you hate Ugin? He's your
twin."

The great dragon recoiled, a blast of angry fire roaring over her head. Sparks rained down
upon the hedrons that concealed the Spirit Dragon's skeleton, but the flames and glowing ash
slid harmlessly off the hard surface.

"He's no twin of mine. That's just a story he put about, trying to grab for a share of my glory
and my triumph."

Naiva cared nothing for Ugin; she'd never met him, and she couldn't imagine any dragon
could be a friend to humankind, even if people like her grandmother and Tae Jin's master
called him the soul of Tarkir. Yet a seed of strength unfurled in her heart. Somehow,
amazingly, this powerful dragon did not know Ugin's body lay concealed beneath the
hedrons. That meant he couldn't see Baishya where she lay lost in a helpless trance. The
thought of her twin dying filled her heart with such dread that it fueled a recklessly fierce
determination. For once, her spear was of no use. She had to find another way.

"You are Nicol Bolas," she said, trying to piece together what she'd learned from the stories
and memories.

He smiled. "Of course I am. Who else could I be?"

If he was as the stories claimed, he would be able to get into her mind. Probably he already
had. Once he picked through her thoughts, he'd realize Yasova Dragonclaw was right in front
of him. Her only hope was to distract him. Hadn't Ugin said not ever to make him angry? If
he killed her, then at least she couldn't betray her loved ones.
 Nicol Bolas, the Arisen | Art by: Svetlin Velinov

"Yes, I have heard of you. I know all about you. You're a liar when you say you aren't twin to
Ugin. You were born together and fell together. Isn't that right?"

His roar shook the air. Rocks fell from the canyon wall, rolling and bouncing to crash against
the hedron cocoon, but the hedrons held firm because they were stronger than rock.

"Of course that's not right! Who told you that?" He loomed closer, his shadow stealing the
patch of sun in which she stood. His voice dropped from thunder to a threatening whisper.
"Did Ugin tell you that?"

She took an involuntary step back toward the hedrons to put distance between herself and his
teeth. Wasn't it odd that his first reaction was not to smite her but to quibble defensively?
Maybe if she kept him busy she could find a way to get out of this. "If you and Ugin aren't
twins, then what are you?"

He inhaled with such strength that snow swirled up from where it dusted distant hedrons,
spinning around her like a blizzard. His voice boomed over her as he began to talk.

THIS IS THE TRUTH, NOT THAT YOU CAN APPRECIATE IT, WEANED AS YOU OBVIOUSLY HAVE
BEEN ON LIES MASQUERADING AS TRUTH.

I FELL.

UGIN WILL HAVE TOLD YOU WE FELL TOGETHER, BUT THAT IS JUST HIS WAY OF MUDDYING THE
WATERS, TELLING HALF LIES THAT PEOPLE MISTAKE FOR TRUTH.

I FELL OUT OF THE WINGS OF THE VOID. FALLING WAS MY FIRST SENSATION: THE ROAR OF WIND
AGAINST MY SCALES; A FLASH OF LIGHTNING SPLITTING THE AIR; THE BOOM OF THE
PROGENITOR'S WING-BEATS.
THE THUNDER OF THE PROGENITOR'S PASSAGE WOKE ME FROM THE DREAM OF FALLING. WHEN
I AWOKE TO CONSCIOUS THOUGHT, I KNEW ALL AT ONCE WITH FULL UNDERSTANDING THAT MY
DESTINY IS NOT TO FALL BUT TO FLY.

I OPENED MY WINGS TO CATCH THE AIR. UGIN MAY TELL YOU THAT HE AND I WERE WRAPPED
TOGETHER LIKE ONE CREATURE, BORN TOGETHER, FALLING TOGETHER, MINDS WAKING
TOGETHER IN BEWILDERMENT AND CURIOSITY. HE MAY TELL YOU THAT AS WE REALIZED WE
WERE BEINGS—MINDS—CONSCIOUSNESSES—THAT WE UNFOLDED TOGETHER. FLEW
TOGETHER.

BUT THAT IS WRONG.

I FLEW FIRST.

I BREATHED FIRST.

I BEHELD THE MAJESTY OF THE SUN AND THE SPLENDOR OF THE HEAVENS AND UNDERSTOOD
THE MAGNIFICENCE OF MY MIND IN THOSE FIRST INSTANTS. THEN I RECOGNIZED THE CURLED-
UP CREATURE FALLING HELPLESSLY BESIDE ME. OF COURSE, MY INSTINCT WAS TO HELP.

USING THE TIP OF MY WING TO SWAT HIS FLANK, I WOKE HIM. WITH MY ENCOURAGEMENT, HE
TOO UNFURLED HIS WINGS. HIS WINGS WERE NOT SO MIGHTY AS MINE EVEN THEN, WHEN WE
WERE NOT YET FULL GROWN. IN THIS WAY HE DISCOVERED FLIGHT OR, I SHOULD SAY, I TAUGHT
HIM THAT FLIGHT IS WHAT WE DRAGONS ARE MADE FOR.

FLIGHT, AND POWER.

OF COURSE, I IMMEDIATELY NOTICED WE HAD SIBLINGS. THE TEMPEST CHURNING WITHIN THE
PROGENITOR'S SHADOWY WINGS HAD PASSED OVER, LEAVING US BEHIND IN A GREEN AND QUIET
LAND. WE WERE ALONE, JUST THE SIX OF US.

"Six?" Naiva asked. "Weren't there eight of you? Didn't two fall without waking? Didn't their
bodies shatter atop the mountain?"

One of his foreclaws swatted down next to her, the impact shaking her off her feet. Her knees
hit the ground hard. Pain stabbed tears into her eyes.

"Do not interrupt me again!" he thundered.

As she braced herself to get back up her face was briefly hidden from his scrutiny, and in this
moment of privacy, she allowed herself a tiny smile. How he loved the sound of his own
voice! Maybe it would be possible to distract him after all, just as Grandmother all those
years ago had chosen to distract Atarka with the promise of food in order to save her people.
FALLING AND FLYING IS HOW IT STARTED.

WE FLEW OUT OF JOY. WE FLEW ON A JOURNEY OF DISCOVERY, EAGER TO LEARN MORE ABOUT
THE COMPLICATED PATTERNS OF LANDFORMS AND SEAS. AT FIRST, WE THOUGHT THESE WERE
LIVING BEINGS LIKE US BUT SOON COMPREHENDED THIS WAS NOTHING MORE THAN THE
WORLD'S NATURAL ORDER. WE FLEW FOR WHAT LESSER CREATURES WOULD MEASURE AS
YEARS. THAT WAS OUR CHILDHOOD: THE HEAVENS, THE WIND, THE SUN, AND THE STARS, AND
THE SONG THEY MADE IN THEIR GLORIOUS EXISTENCE, A PERFECT SETTING FOR CREATURES AS
SPLENDID AS WE DRAGONS.

AT LAST, I ALONE HAD THE COURAGE, AND THE HUNGER, TO DARE FOLD MY WINGS AND SET MY
CLAWS UPON THE GROUND. OF COURSE, THAT MOMENTOUS DECISION PRESAGED ALL THAT WAS
AND IS TO COME: MY WINGS SPAN THE HEAVENS, AND MY PRESENCE, MY WEIGHT, MY SIZE, MY
CLAWS, ALL THESE GIVE ME DOMINION OVER THE EARTH AND ALL THAT LIVES ON THE EARTH.
SO, I NAMED OUR HOME DOMINARIA, BECAUSE I CLAIMED ITS SONG FOR MYSELF.

NATURALLY, THE FRACTIOUS AND UNSTABLE HUMANOIDS HAD TO BE DOMESTICATED AND

MADE FIT TO LIVE IN PEACE. MY EXCEPTIONAL SUCCESS AT THESE EFFORTS NATURALLY
CAUSED ENVY AMONG MY SIBLINGS AND COUSINS, BUT THEIR RESENTMENT AND BACKBITING
WAS EASILY DEALT WITH BY A PERSONAGE OF MY TALENT AND WISDOM.

BUT ALL WAS NOT TRIUMPH IN THOSE DAYS. SADLY, UGIN DID NOT PROVE UP TO THE
CHALLENGE. IN THE EARLY YEARS OF MY STRUGGLE, HE PLEDGED TO STAND BESIDE ME, BUT IN
FACT HE HADN'T THE STOMACH FOR THE WORK.

WE HAD TO CLEAR OUT A NEST OF PARTICULARLY FOUL HUMANOIDS WHO STUMBLED UPON A
WOUNDED AND ALREADY DYING DRAGON AND CLAIMED THEY HAD KILLED IT. A FALSE SENSE
OF VICTORY CAUSED THEM TO SWAGGER ABOUT AS IF THEY HAD EARNED A SHOWER OF GLORY.
OF COURSE, THEY HAD TO BE ERADICATED. BUT UGIN LOST HIS NERVE. HE FLEW OUT OF
RANGE OF THEIR VENOM-SOAKED WEAPONS, WATCHING AS I SELFLESSLY RISKED MYSELF TO
AVENGE OUR SISTER'S DEATH. EVEN HE WOULD ADMIT THIS IS TRUE. HE MADE EXCUSES, HE
QUIBBLED, HE WHINED, HE KEPT TRYING TO TALK ME OUT OF TAKING CONTROL OF A SITUATION
THAT WOULD SOON THREATEN ALL DRAGONS ON DOMINARIA HAD IT BEEN ALLOWED TO
SPREAD UNCHECKED.

EVEN WHEN I THOROUGHLY VANQUISHED OUR FOES, HE CRITICIZED ME FOR MY METHODS, AS IF

I HADN'T TAKEN THE ONLY PATH AVAILABLE TO END THE THREAT! BUT I LISTENED PATIENTLY
TO ALL HIS WHEEDLING COMPLAINTS. A FEW SCRAPS OF WISDOM PERCOLATED UP HERE AND
THERE WITHIN HIS WORDS, AND I HEEDED THEM, TOO, FOR I WISHED FOR NOTHING MORE THAN
TO BRING A HARMONIOUS EXISTENCE TO ALL SAPIENT CREATURES ON DOMINARIA. I TRIED TO
EXPLAIN HOW IT WOULD ALL WORK OUT, BUT HE WAS STILL FRIGHTENED.
AND SO, HE FLED. HE VANISHED, THERE ONE MOMENT AND THEN AS IF WITH THE BLINK OF THE
EYE AND A RIPPLE THROUGH THE AIR. . . GONE.

WHAT A SORROW AND A GRIEVING I FELT AT HIS DISAPPEARANCE! WHAT A HOWL OF DESPAIR I
RAISED!

IT HAPPENED SO FAST I TRULY BELIEVED IT WAS MY FAULT. I THOUGHT I HAD NOT PROPERLY
RECKONED WITH THE CUNNING AND HATE OF THE SURVIVING HUMANOIDS. I BERATED MYSELF
FOR OVERLOOKING THE POWER OF THEIR SORCERERS, FOR IT WAS IMPOSSIBLE FOR ME TO
BELIEVE MY DEAR UGIN WAS A COWARD. THE ONLY EXPLANATION THAT MADE SENSE WAS
THAT A POWERFUL SPELL HAD OBLITERATED HIM RIGHT BEFORE MY ASTONISHED EYES.

Doublecast | Art by: Even Amundsen

OF COURSE, I ROOTED OUT ALL THE HUMANOID SORCERERS IN THE AREA. I PERSUADED THEM
TO GIVE UP THEIR SECRETS. THOSE WHO REFUSED I KILLED, WHILE THOSE WHO COOPERATED I
LEARNED FROM AND THEN KILLED LATER. SINCE I COULD NO LONGER TRUST THEM.
AFTERWARD I WISELY CREATED MY OWN ACADEMIES TO TRAIN THOSE WITH MAGIC, SO THEY
COULD SERVE THE GREATER GOOD UNDER MY SUZERAINTY.

NATURALLY MY SIBLINGS AND COUSINS ENVIED MY SUCCESS. I DID NOT WANT ANY CONFLICT
WITH THEM—"LIVE AND LET LIVE" IS A GOOD PHRASE, IS IT NOT?—BUT I HAD NO CHOICE IF I
WANTED TO PROTECT MY PEOPLE.

I COULD SPEAK AT LENGTH ABOUT THE WAR THAT THE OTHERS FORCED UPON ME, BUT THAT
WOULD BORE ME. SUFFICE IT TO SAY THAT THE WARS LASTED A LONG TIME, MANY
GENERATIONS AS YOU SHORT-LIVED HUMANOIDS MEASURE TIME. ONE DAY, WHEN I HAD
FINALLY DRIVEN THAT STUBBORN TYRANT ARCADES INTO RETREAT, UGIN RETURNED. HE FLEW
RIGHT INTO THE MIDDLE OF OUR FINAL BATTLE, BREAKING IT OFF.

THE SHOCK OF HIS APPEARANCE QUITE UNDID ME.

"WHAT SORCERY IS THIS?" I ROARED. "UGIN IS DEAD."

"NO SORCERY. DON'T YOU KNOW ME, NICOL?"

MY HEARTS SWELLED WITH JOY, THEN CONSTRICTED WITH FURY. "THIS IS SOME CURSED
ILLUSION MAGIC WIELDED BY ARCADES!"

WITH A BLAST OF FIRE, I MEANT TO OBLITERATE THE MIRAGE.

"NICOL! STOP! IT'S TRULY ME."

AT THE LAST MOMENT, I TURNED MY IRE ASIDE TO BLOW HARMLESSLY AWAY OVER THE LAND.
WHAT IF IT TRULY WAS HIM?

"YOU'RE DEAD. I SAW YOU ANNIHILATED BY A VILE BURST OF HUMAN SORCERY. IT WAS THEIR
REVENGE FOR MY VICTORY, DESTROYING WHAT I LOVE MOST. BUT I AVENGED YOU, AND SET
OUT TO MAKE THE WORLD WORTHY OF YOUR VISION OF PEACE AND HARMONY."

"IS THIS WHAT YOU CALL PEACE AND HARMONY?"

SPOKEN LIKE UGIN! HE WAS ALWAYS FINDING FAULT WITH EVERYTHING I DID. BUT THIS TIME I
WOULD IMPRESS HIM, AND HE WOULD ADMIT I WAS RIGHT, THAT I HAD SURPASSED HIM.

"IT WILL BE. COME SEE WHAT I HAVE ACCOMPLISHED. COME, UGIN."

I ACTED AS HIS GUIDE TO DOMINARIA, SHOWING HIM ALL ITS BEAUTY AND SPLENDOR, ALL ITS
POWER AND GLORY, FOR HE HAD ALWAYS STUCK CLOSE TO OUR BIRTH MOUNTAIN AND FEARED
VENTURING TOO FAR AWAY. WHEN HE TIRED OF FLYING, WE RETURNED THERE AND SETTLED
UPON THE BIRTH MOUNTAIN'S PEAK, NOW CROWNED WITH TWIN HORNS IN HONOR OF THE
SUPREMACY OF DRAGON-KIND. I SURVEYED THE LANDSCAPE FROM OUR HIGH PERCH, UGIN
SILENT BESIDE ME. I THOUGHT HE WAS CONTENT, JUST AS I WAS CONTENT TO HAVE HIM BACK
BESIDE ME. BUT IN FACT, HE WAS SEETHING WITH ENVY, AS I WAS SOON TO DISCOVER.

"OF COURSE, YOU NEVER SUSPECTED THE WORLD TO BE SO VAST A PLACE, DID YOU, UGIN? I
HAVE TRAVELED EVERYWHERE, NO PLACE TOO SMALL OR TOO GRAND THAT I HAVE NOT SET
CLAW UPON IT. NO ONE DARES CALL ME "LEAST" NOW."

UGIN LAUGHED. "DO YOU REALLY BELIEVE THIS PETTY SQUABBLING MEANS ANYTHING IN THE
VAST REACHES OF THE UNIVERSE?"

HOW IT PAINED MY HEARTS TO HEAR THIS BIT OF MOCKERY. OF COURSE, I WANTED TO POINT
OUT THAT HE'D BEEN HIDING ALL THIS TIME IN A COWARD'S SANCTUARY, BUT I REFRAINED AND
INSTEAD TRIED TO SOOTHE HIM.

"HAVE YOU RETURNED ONLY TO INSULT ME? I THOUGHT WE WERE BETTER FRIENDS THAN
THAT. NOW THAT YOU ARE RETURNED, YOU CAN SHARE IN MY TRIUMPH, JUST AS WE ALWAYS
DID BEFORE."

"I DON'T WANT YOUR LEAVINGS, NICOL. I HAVE SECRETS OF MY OWN, LEARNED AT THE FEET OF
A WISE WOMAN."
"THAT OLD HUMAN IS LONG VANQUISHED BY DEATH AND HER PRATTLING WISDOM NOTHING
MORE THAN DUST. HER SECRETS WERE LIKE BUBBLES THAT POP WHEN YOU TOUCH THEM:
PRETTY TO LOOK AT BUT WITHOUT SUBSTANCE."

"YOU'LL SEE!" UGIN SCREAMED ANGRILY. HE BEGAN BABBLING ABOUT PLANES AND WALKING
PATHS BETWEEN WORLDS. "I WILL FIND THE WAY, AS SHE PROMISED ME LONG AGO, AND THEN
YOU'LL BE SORRY. THEN YOU'LL REGRET THINKING YOU ARE BETTER THAN ME."

THE WIND RUMBLED ATOP THE MOUNTAIN IN A HOWL OF STORM. SNOW FELL SO THICKLY THAT
ITS BLIZZARD OBSCURED HIM FROM MY VISION.

"UGIN?" I SHOUTED.

IN A RIPPLE OF WARM WIND, HE WAS GONE.

FLED.

THE UGLY LANDSCAPE OF HIS HEARTS WAS STARKLY REVEALED. HADN'T HE ABANDONED ME
THE FIRST TIME JUST WHEN I MOST NEEDED HIM? NOW HE HAD COME BACK MERELY TO TAUNT
ME WITH THE AFFECTION I HELD FOR HIM THAT HE CLEARLY DID NOT HOLD FOR ME.
OBVIOUSLY, HE HAD DONE IT BECAUSE HE WAS ENVIOUS OF EVERYTHING I HAD ACHIEVED. MY
VAST INTELLIGENCE AND CLEVER STRATEGIES. MY MASTERY OF MAGICAL SKILLS HE WANTED
FOR HIMSELF AND THAT THE OLD WOMAN HAD PROMISED HIM BUT NEVER DELIVERED. MY
MYRIAD GRATEFUL SUBJECTS AND THE PROMISE OF THE WORLD I WOULD SOON RULE AS
BENEVOLENT OVERLORD BELOVED BY ALL, AWE-STRUCK BY MY MAJESTY AND POWER.

Draconic Disciple | Art by: Yongjae Choi

HOW DARE HE CLAIM TO BE BETTER THAN ME? HOW DARE HE FLAUNT MAGIC THAT HE REFUSED
TO SHARE? HE WAS NOTHING, NO ONE, TOO WEAK AND COWARDLY TO FIGHT. HE WAS LEAST IN
STANDING AMONG US ELDER-BORN DRAGONS, NOT REALLY DESERVING OF EVEN BEING
COUNTED AMONG US. PROBABLY HE HAD HOPED TO STEAL MY GLORY AND CLAIM IT FOR
HIMSELF. NO WONDER HE WAS ANGRY, RECOGNIZING HE HADN'T THE GIFT OR STRENGTH FOR
WHAT I HAD SO EASILY MANAGED.
AND YET SHARPER THAN A DRAGON'S TOOTH, THE BITE OF HIS INSULTS CLAWED THEIR WAY
REGARDLESS INTO MY HEARTS.

HE HAD ABANDONED ME AGAIN. DELIBERATELY. MOCKINGLY. CONDESCENDINGLY.

I, WHO BURNED WITH THE BRIGHT HEAT OF A THOUSAND SUNS, FELT COLD FOR THE FIRST TIME,
COLD WITH THE GRIEF OF REJECTION. HE HAD RETURNED WITH THE EXPRESS PURPOSE OF
REBUFFING MY OVERTURES OF FRIENDSHIP, OF FLINGING MY GENEROSITY BACK IN MY FACE.

SUCH A ONE AS HE COULD NOT FEEL PLEASURE IN THE GOOD FORTUNE OF ANOTHER BUT ONLY
RESENTMENT.

SUCH A ONE AS HE COULD GAIN NO SATISFACTION OR DELIGHT IN THE ACCOMPLISHMENTS AND

SUCCESSES OF ANOTHER BUT ONLY BITTERNESS.

SUCH A ONE AS HE COULD FIND REFUGE ONLY IN ENVY.

IN RAGE.

RAGE

HOW DARE HE HAVE WHAT I HAD NOT!

A WHITE-HOT SPARK KINDLED DEEP IN MY CHEST WITH A FLASH OF SUCH SUNLIT BRIGHTNESS
THAT IT BLINDED ME. IMPENETRABLE BLACKNESS FILLED MY VISION. TUMBLING, I FELL,
TOTALLY DISORIENTED, UNTIL WITH A GUT-WRENCHING TWIST I RIGHTED MYSELF.

ONLY TO FIND MYSELF NO LONGER ATOP THE BIRTH MOUNTAIN BUT GLIDING OVER A
BOUNDLESS STRETCH OF OCEANIC WATERS AS FLAT AND STILL AS A MIRROR. I WAS THE ONLY
THING IN MOTION, MY WINGS SHADOWING THE SEA'S SURFACE. THERE WAS NO SUN IN THIS
PECULIAR PLACE, ONLY THE WATER AND MANY CRAGGY ISLETS AND A CONSTANT SHUSHING
WHISPER OF SECRETS JUST OUT OF MY REACH. BY A FAINT HUMMING VIBRATION DEEP IN MY
BONES, I SUSPECTED THIS WAS NOT A PLANE BUT SOME MANNER OF ARTIFICIAL CONSTRUCT,
BUILT BY AN UNKNOWN AGENT THAT HAD LEFT NEITHER CLAW NOR FOOTPRINT TO MARK ITS
AUTHORSHIP. WHO, OR WHAT, POSSESSED SO MUCH POWER? AND WHY HAD IT BEEN
ABANDONED?

BUBBLES FLOATED PEACEABLY IN THE SKY, DRIFTING DOWNWARD UNTIL THEY TOUCHED MY
SCALES AND POPPED

WITH EACH POP, A SWEET VISTA SPRANG OPEN BEFORE ME FOR A BREATHTAKING MOMENT
BEFORE IT VANISHED: OTHER LANDS, OTHER WORLDS, OTHER PLANES.

AH!

WITH MY NEXT BREATH, I COMPREHENDED THE WHOLE: I HAD BECOME A PLANESWALKER.

I HAD BECOME THE VERY THING UGIN HAD BEEN RANTING ABOUT ALL ALONG, THE MAGIC HE
WANTED FOR HIMSELF BUT COULD NOT ACHIEVE.

AFTER THAT FIRST UNEXPECTED PASSAGE, IT WAS EASY TO KEEP GOING, TO MOVE IN AND OUT
THROUGH A WEB OF CONNECTIONS LINKED BY A CLOT OF DARKNESS TO WHICH EVERYTHING
ELSE ADHERED. I WALKED FROM ONE WORLD TO ANOTHER TO THE NEXT AND THE NEXT.

WHAT WONDERS LAY BEYOND THE MEAGER TREASURES OF DOMINARIA! A HUNDRED WORLDS I
VISITED, AND THEN A HUNDRED MORE. YET IN ALL THAT TIME I FOUND NO TRACE OF ANY
OTHER CREATURE WHO COULD WALK BETWEEN WORLDS. I WAS THE FIRST AMONG ALL SAPIENT
CREATURES TO DISCOVER THE POSSIBILITY OF TRAVELING BETWEEN PLANES. NO WONDER
ETERNITY AND INFINITY WELCOMED ME, HAVING SOJOURNED ALONE FOR SO LONG!

EVEN SO I BEGAN TO THINK AGAIN OF UGIN, WANTING TO SHARE THIS GLORY WITH ANOTHER,
OR AT LEAST TO FORGIVE HIM, TO HEAR HOW HE MIGHT AT LAST ACKNOWLEDGE HOW FAR I
HAD COME.

I AM NOT A SELFISH CREATURE. IT SEEMED CHURLISH TO WITHHOLD THIS KNOWLEDGE FROM

UGIN, EVEN IF HE COULD NEVER MANAGE TO DUPLICATE THE PLANESWALKING I HAD
ACHIEVED, FOR AT THAT TIME I DID NOT YET UNDERSTAND HOW A PEERLESS SPARK SEPARATES
WE RARE PLANESWALKERS FROM THE UNWORTHY OTHERS OF SAPIENT LIFE FOR WHOM UNTOLD
WORLDS WILL LIE FOREVER OUT OF REACH.

I THOUGHT OF HIM. I BELIEVED WE COULD BE FRIENDS AS WE ONCE WERE AT THE DAWN OF

DAYS. SO I WENT HOME.

OF COURSE, A GREAT DEAL OF TIME HAD PASSED AS YOU HUMANOIDS MEASURE IT. THE
DOMINARIA I HAD LEFT WAS SO CHANGED, I BARELY RECOGNIZED LARGE SWATHES OF IT. THE
COURSES OF RIVERS ALTERED; ISLANDS SUNDERED; LAKES GONE DRY AND SEAS RISEN TO
FLOOD ONCE HABITABLE SHORES. THERE I FOUND THE WARS BETWEEN THE ELDER DRAGONS
OVER LONG SINCE. A TENUOUS PEACE HAD TAKEN HOLD THROUGHOUT MUCH OF THE LAND. OF
ALL THE ELDER DRAGONS AND THEIR CHILDREN, ONLY CHROMIUM RHUELL, ARCADES
SABBOTH, PALLADIA-MORS, AND THAT VEXATIOUS BEAST VAEVICTIS ASMADI HAD SURVIVED.
RHUELL WANDERED THE LAND IN THE GUISE OF A HELPFUL OBSERVER, ALL OFFERING PRAISE
FOR HIS WISDOM AND BENEFICENCE, YET HE WAS NO BETTER THAN THOSE OF OUR SIBLINGS
WHO PLUNDERED AND RULED, FOR HE POKED HIS SNOUT IN WHEREVER HE WISHED, AND WHO
AMONG THE HUMANOIDS COULD TELL HIM NO? VAEVICTIS STILL ROAMED WITH RESTLESS
FERVOR, PILLAGING AND BURNING AS HE WISHED, SOMETIMES TEAMING UP WITH THAT ILL-
TEMPERED CREATURE PALLADIA-MORS BUT MORE OFTEN ALONE.

YET AS I SEARCHED THE WIDE WORLD OVER, I FOUND NO TRACE OF UGIN. AT LENGTH, I MADE
MY WAY TO ARCADES'S KINGDOM, AS UGIN AND I HAD ONCE DONE WHEN WE WERE
FLEDGLINGS.
 Arcades, the Strategist | Art by: Even Amundsen

ARCADES WELCOMED ME IN HIS MOST TENDENTIOUS ELDER SIBLING MANNER, WONDERING

WHERE I HAD BEEN HIDING MYSELF ALL THIS TIME AND PROUDLY SHOWING ME ABOUT THE
EMPIRE HE CONSIDERED METICULOUSLY REGULATED AND MAGNIFICENTLY VAST. BUT I KNEW
BETTER.

"UGIN? I KNOW YOU AND HE WERE PARTICULARLY CLOSE, BORN AS YOU WERE. BUT I HAVEN'T
SEEN HIM SINCE THE EARLIEST OF DAYS WHEN YOU TWO LEFT TO ROOT OUT THOSE DRAGON
KILLERS. YOU TOLD US HE DIED."

"THAT'S NOT WHAT I SAID," I CORRECTED HIM. "HE WASN'T DEAD AT ALL. HE WAS JUST HIDING.
HE RETURNED RIGHT AT THE CLIMAX OF OUR LAST BATTLE."

HE REGARDED ME WITH HIS USUAL PATRONIZING SUPERIORITY. "THE BATTLE YOU FLED FROM,
ABANDONING YOUR TROOPS? I GATHERED THEM UNDER MY WINGS. THEY WERE GRATEFUL FOR
MY PROTECTION, I ASSURE YOU."

"DID YOU NOT SEE HIM, FLYING BETWEEN OUR ARMIES?" I DEMANDED, UTTERLY ASTONISHED
BY HIS OBLIVIOUSNESS.

"YOU WERE NOT YOURSELF THAT DAY, BOLAS. NO DOUBT YOU WERE SEEING ILLUSORY
THINGS. YOU HAVE ALWAYS FELT SHAME ABOUT UGIN'S DEATH, HAVEN'T YOU? DID YOU
BLAME YOURSELF FOR NOT PROTECTING HIM? OR DID YOU STAND ASIDE AND ALLOW HIM TO BE
KILLED BY SOME VENOMOUS SORCERY? I'VE ALWAYS WONDERED. I'VE ALWAYS SUSPECTED
YOU ENVIED HIM BECAUSE HE WAS CLEVERER AND WISER THAN YOU."

I, ENVY UGIN? RIDICULOUS.

THEN I UNDERSTOOD: ARCADES WAS DISPARAGING ME, HOPING TO MAKE ME LOSE MY TEMPER
AS I WOULD HAVE DONE WHEN I WAS YOUNG AND VOLATILE. BUT I WAS BIGGER THAN THAT.
MUCH, MUCH BIGGER. I WAS A PLANESWALKER, FIRST AND ONLY ONE OF MY KIND. TO RULE IN
DOMINARIA WAS ALL VERY WELL FOR A SMALL-MINDED DESPOT LIKE ARCADES, WHILE I HAD
GROWN AS FAR BEYOND HIM AS HE WAS BEYOND PATHETIC, WEAK, SHORT-LIVED HUMANS.

I SURVEYED THE GRACEFUL ARCHITECTURE AND FASTIDIOUSLY ORDERED STREETS AND

DISTRICTS OF THE CITY WHERE HE PRESIDED FROM A PALACE BUILT ATOP A CLIFF. AND I
INSINUATED A WORM OF DOUBT IN HIS HAUGHTY MIND: MAYBE THE HUMANOIDS WHO LIVED
HERE WEREN'T AS DESERVING AS HE THOUGHT THEM. MAYBE THEY DIDN'T REALLY RESPECT
HIM OR FOLLOW HIS LAWS, BUT ONLY PRETENDED TO. MAYBE THEY WERE PLOTTING TO RISE UP
AND OVERTHROW HIM, FOR WASN'T HE NOTHING MORE THAN A TYRANT EVEN IF HE FANCIED
HIMSELF A BENEVOLENT ONE? WASN'T THAT WHAT HIS SUBJECTS WHISPERED, WHEN THEY
WERE SURE HE COULDN'T HEAR ? IF HE SENT OUT AGENTS INTO EVERY CORNER AND CREVICE OF
THE REALM, THEY COULD REPORT BACK TO HIM AND THUS ROOT OUT INSTIGATORS. HE COULD
OFFER REWARDS FOR PEOPLE TURNING IN TRAITORS AND PAY HANDSOMELY FOR PEOPLE BRAVE
AND BOLD ENOUGH TO TURN ON THEIR OWN KINFOLK. AND IF THAT WASN'T ENOUGH, THEN HE
COULD BURN DOWN SUSPECT DISTRICTS OR EVEN WHOLE CITIES. BURN THEM. BURN THEM.

WITH A LAST SMILE, I WRAPPED MYSELF IN MAGIC AND DEPARTED DOMINARIA. THE DOUBTS I
HAD SEEDED WOULD TAKE ROOT, OR THEY WOULD WITHER. EITHER WAY, ARCADES WOULD
NOT TROUBLE ME AGAIN. HE WOULD NEVER WALK THE PLANES. HE DIDN'T HAVE IT IN HIM.
ONLY I DID.

SO, YOU MAY IMAGINE MY SHOCK AND MY JOY WHEN I WALKED OUT OF THE BLIND ETERNITIES
INTO THE PLACE I HAD COME TO CALL MY MEDITATION REALM ONLY TO FIND UGIN THERE! HE
WAS FLOATING ATOP THE WATERS STARING AT HIMSELF AS IF HE COULD IMAGINE NOTHING
BETTER THAN TO LOOK AT HIS OWN REFLECTION.

"UGIN! HOW IS IT YOU ARE HERE? I AM OVERJOYED TO SEE YOU, BROTHER, FOR I FEARED I HAD
LOST YOU FOREVER."

BUT HE HAD NO WORDS FOR ME. HE HAD ONLY ANIMOSITY, DRIVEN BY HIS ANGER AND ENVY
AND RESENTMENT AND BITTERNESS, BY THE MEMORY OF MOCKING, CONDESCENDING
LAUGHTER. BY THE FEAR I WOULD REVEAL THE TRUTH ABOUT THINGS HE DID NOT WANT
OTHERS TO KNOW, AND THAT THOSE OTHERS WOULD BELIEVE ME OVER HIM.

HE ATTACKED, VICIOUSLY AND WITHOUT WARNING, ALL RAW FURY AND MALIGNANT
RESENTMENT. I HAD NO CHOICE BUT TO DEFEND MYSELF. FIRST ABOVE THE WIDE WATERS OF
THE MEDITATION REALM AND THEN ON A WILD PUMMELING PATH THROUGH THE PLANES, WE
STRUGGLED FOR DAYS, YEARS, GENERATIONS. WE BATTLED WITH CLAW AND TOOTH AND WITH
MAGIC. ON AND ON THE STRUGGLE RAGED, FOR HE WAS UNRELENTING, REJECTING ALL MY
ATTEMPTED OVERTURES FOR A TRUCE. ALL HE WANTED WAS TO KILL ME FOR THE CRIME OF
WALKING THE PLANES BEFORE HE DID. HIS HEARTS WERE EATEN OUT BY JEALOUSY FOR WHAT I
HAD NOT SHARED WITH HIM.

WHAT COULD I DO? THERE WAS NO PLACATING HIM.

IN THE END, BY DIVERSE PATHS, WE RETURNED TO THE MEDITATION REALM. THERE, PURELY IN
SELF-DEFENSE, I KILLED HIM.

WITH A MIGHTY SPLASH, HE FELL INTO THE STILL WATERS. THE IMPACT RESOUNDED LIKE
THUNDER. MONSTROUS WAVES ROSE FROM THE DISPLACEMENT AND SWEPT ACROSS THE
CRAGGY ISLETS, CRASHING AND DESTROYING AS THEY WENT. THE WAVES RAN ON AND ON,
WASHING FAR BEYOND THE BOUNDS OF THE MEDITATION REALM INTO THE WEB OF
CONNECTION THAT LINKS THE PLANES THEMSELVES AND MAYBE EVEN INTO THE BLIND
ETERNITIES WHOSE DEPTHS EVEN DRAGONS CANNOT PLUMB. THE WAVES SPILLED OUT OF THE
MEDITATION REALM AS IF UGIN'S DEATH HAD, LIKE A WEIGHT DROPPED UPON A CERAMIC
BOWL, BROKEN CRACKS IN THE VESSEL ITSELF.

THE VIOLENCE OF THE WAVES SWEPT ME OUT OF THE MEDITATION REALM. LIKE A CAST SPEAR,
I WAS FLUNG THROUGH TEN OR TWENTY OR A HUNDRED PLANES BEFORE I FELL HARD BACK
INTO DOMINARIA, ONTO THE ISLAND CHAIN OF MADARA AT A TIME WHEN THE MEMORY OF THE
ELDER DRAGON WARS HAD FADED INTO LEGEND. BRUISED AND STUNNED, I STRUGGLED TO
RECOVER MY STRENGTH, BUT RECOVER IT I DID. MANY BATTLES LAY BEFORE ME, AND I MET
THEM WITH EASE.

OF COURSE, LITTLE NAIVA, YOU MUST BE INTERESTED IN THE LONG COURSE OF MY

FASCINATING LIFE, AND I WOULD GLADLY REGALE YOU WITH THE WHOLE NOW THAT I HAVE
SET YOU RIGHT ABOUT UGIN'S FALSE STORY. BUT I KNOW YOU BELIEVE YOU ARE DISTRACTING
ME FROM MY PURPOSE HERE.

She could no longer see the sky, only his dazzling eyes and the brilliant curve of his horns
with the egg-gem spinning mesmerically between the points.

His smile showed his teeth. In one gulp, he could eat her.

"It always discourages me," he said in a kindly voice, "that people are so quick to think we
dragons like the taste of human flesh when in fact it is not to our taste at all."

His head dropped lower. She took another step back but could move no farther, trapped
against the hedrons.

"What you don't understand is that I have all the time in the worlds, while your time is
running out fast. Now. Where is Ugin?"

"Ugin is dead."

"So I believed when I killed him in the Meditation Realm. I departed, believing him dead.
That was my mistake. Because somehow, he wasn't dead. He has plagued me ever since,
most recently with a misbegotten plan to trap me on Ixalan by means of a magical artifact."

"Ixalan?" She croaked out the word, anything to keep him talking.

"The name means nothing to you. It's another plane. One you will never see in your entire
short, brutish, nasty life."
 Highland Lake | Art by: Noah Bradley

Her limbs were cold and her heart was sluggish, as if her body had decided it was better to
collapse into insensibility than face the shattering power of Nicol Bolas, Ugin's greatest
enemy. But she would not cringe.

"Ugin is dead." She forced out the words in a harsh whisper. "His bones lie right here.
Beneath the hedrons."

"Ah. Hmm." His rumble unnerved her as his gaze scanned the formation winding out of sight
beyond the curve of the canyon. "His falling body cleaved this canyon. I suppose it's possible
his bones really do lie here."

"Can't you see the bones?"

He slapped a foreclaw on the ground, the sound echoing off the canyon walls. "Do not
question me. It's a shame the others consider you expendable, isn't it?"

"Expendable? They rely on me!"

"You cannot be so naive, little one. Your grandmother tolerates you only because she finds
you useful in protecting the grandchild she clearly cares about, the one who inherited the
shamanic gifts. You have no magic, do you?"

"I'm a hunter!"

"Yes, yes, you're a hunter. Everyone is a hunter. But your sister is a shaman. There's nothing
worse than discovering someone you love holds tightly to a gift they've denied you. That they
refuse to share with you. That you're expected to pander to and flatter them, admire them,
when really, you're the valuable one. You're the one who will feed the tribe in the years to
come. You're the one who will lead the people into the high mountains in the summer and to
the lowlands during the winter. You're the leader, burdened by this sister you never asked for
and didn't really want. They keep holding you back because of her, making you watch over
her, wait for her, not giving you the scouting and hunting responsibilities you've earned with
your skill. It's just not fair. If you were free of her, then you could finally come into your
own, couldn't you? You could finally become the great hunter and leader you deserve to be.
And I can help you with that, Naiva."

His words, uttered in such a soft, persuasive tone, insinuated themselves into her heart. The
old resentment sparked. All the annoyances of years past clawed their way back into the
forefront of her mind, throbbing like a headache only he could soothe. But she couldn't trust
him. She clung to that fading thought. "How can you help me? Why would you help me?"

"Because if I don't help you, then I will be forced to destroy Tarkir. Wouldn't that be a
shame? Especially since you are the only one who can prevent its destruction."

"Why would you destroy Tarkir?" she whispered hoarsely, horrified and shaking.

"Because he loves Tarkir. But mostly so there can be no chance of him being reborn here."
He paused, then huffed a soft warm breeze, like magic, over her trembling body. "Do not fret,
Naiva. I don't want to annihilate this plane because I'd rather help you. Together, we will
clear Tarkir of all your enemies, all the dragons and all the other tribes. You can hunt the
wide world over with no one to stand in your way. I will bring about everything you have
ever dreamed of because I have that power, and I will use it on your behalf. All you need do
is bring me Yasova. Now."

Now. The word reverberated in her head. It was true, after all. Baishya had always been a
burden heavier than a net of dead goblins. When Grandmother died, no family group would
risk taking in a young, inexperienced whisperer whose presence could get them all killed.
Why should she be asked to give up everything she wanted just to protect her sister? The old
ways had never belonged to Naiva. They were just obstacles in her path forward.

"She's here. Right here. Hiding."

His smile lit the entire world. "Fetch her for me. Then you will receive your reward."

There was no future for her in clinging to the past. She'd been right when she'd told Tae Jin
that the old ways were a corpse better consumed by vultures.

Atarka's Command | Art by: Chris Rahn

Yet when she thought of the young ghostfire warrior, of his courage and sacrifice, a shudder
passed through her frame and ripped a gash in her certainty. What would Tae Jin say when he
learned she had handed over the great Yasova Dragonclaw to Nicol Bolas?

"Little Naiva, you mustn't believe I want to hurt Yasova. I want to help. That's all. Now go."
His voice hardened. A pressure built in her head until she thought her skull would burst.
"Now."

Kneeling, she pulled aside the fragment of broken hedron and crawled in. There, in the dim,
stuffy confines of the space, Baishya lay as if asleep, breathing evenly. Grandmother sat
cross-legged in mediation, eyes closed, left hand resting open on a thigh while her right hand
grasped Baishya's bare fingers with an affectionate clasp. The gesture ate a hole of envy right
through Naiva's heart. Grandmother had always preferred Baishya. She loved her more than
she loved Naiva.

She would have to bodily haul Grandmother outside. But that could wait. Pulling her knife
from its sheath, she pressed the blade against Baishya's vulnerable throat.

CHRONICLE OF BOLAS: THE

UNWRITTEN NOW
Shielded within the hedrons that had grown up over the bones of Ugin, Naiva knelt beside her
twin sister, holding a knife to her throat. Baishya was lost to a whisperer's trance, eyes closed,
fallen deep into a vision Naiva could only share if she was touching Baishya's bare skin with
her own. Magic lived in her twin and was denied to her. Envy and anger gnawed at her guts
until she was nothing but jagged splinters.

Why was she constantly told she had to protect her twin? Wasn't Baishya nothing more than a
burden and a danger to the tribe? It would be better if her sister were dead. Then she wouldn't
be treated as the lesser one ever again because she would be the only one. And in the years to
come, people would forget Baishya had existed at all; they need never know Naiva the great
hunter had ever been a twin.

A thin line of red welled up along the curve of her sister's neck.

Yet as Naiva breathed, struggling with the harsh thoughts, a stillness slowly expanded inside
the troubled waters of her heart. The Spirit Dragon's essence pressed in upon her, clear and
sharp, severing the thread that linked her to the cruel voice slashing venom-laced chasms into
her mind. Her gaze dropped to where a knife was clutched in her hand. Why was she holding
a blade against her sister's throat?
"What are you doing!"

A strong hand snatched the knife out of her fingers and flung it aside. It thunked hard against
the wall and hit the dirt with a thud.

Blinking in confusion, she turned to see Grandmother awake and aware. Yasova grabbed
Naiva's chin and forced her gaze to meet her own.

"What is your name?" Grandmother demanded, examining her eyes.

"I'm Naiva," she said indignantly, pulling back. "Have you already forgotten me?"

"Of course I have not forgotten you. I cut you two out of my daughter's dead body with the
knife you were holding to your sister's throat. Why did you not go up to the sanctuary, as I
told you?"

"There was someone on the path . . . Mevra . . . no . . . a dragon . . . that can't be . . ." She
rubbed her eyes. Already the events just passed seemed hazy and unreal, like a story she'd
heard years ago and could not quite recall.

"He found you." Grandmother studied the cocoon that enclosed them. "The hedrons protect
us from his touch."

"I don't understand."

"The dragon who killed Ugin has returned."

Her thoughts dredged into the sluggish deeps, hauling a name to the surface. "Nicol Bolas."

"Yes. He uses his touch to manipulate the thoughts and emotions of others. Did he tell you to
kill your twin?"

Her head began to ache. When she squeezed her eyes shut, pale ghostly shapes floated as if
trying to form into a coherent memory. "I don't remember . . . no, no, wait. I am supposed to
bring you, Grandmother. He wants you."

"He will get me."

"You can't go out there! He'll kill you."

"That's likely."

"So we'll just stay safe in here until he grows bored and goes away."

"Do you think he's as easily distracted as one of Atarka's broodlings? Because he is not. What
do you think will happen if he does not get me?"

"He threatened to destroy Tarkir. Can he do that?"

"He killed Ugin by turning the minds of all the dragons against their own progenitor. He's a
Planeswalker, ancient beyond measure. So yes, I must assume he can destroy Tarkir if he
decides to do so."

"What have I done?" Tears of shame ran down her cheeks. "I never meant to betray you,
Grandmother."

"You betrayed nothing. Yet for all I have tried to teach you girls, you have not listened well
enough. Understand this. Any one of us may die at any time, and we will all die eventually.
What matters is that we have woven threads to connect ourselves to the past so we do not
forget our ancestors and what they have to teach us."

"I'll go out and say I couldn't find you!"

"He will kill you and turn his wrath upon Tarkir. If our people are to survive we must outwit
him." She studied Baishya's closed eyes and serene expression. "Perhaps this is why Ugin
summoned us."

"Ugin is dead."

"Yes. Ugin is dead. He cannot speak to us in the ordinary way. He cannot even speak through
the Whisper Mind."

"How would Ugin know about that?"

She raised an eyebrow. "He taught the skill to the shamans among our ancestors."

Shaman of Forgotten Ways | Art by: Tyler Jacobson

"He must have learned mind-speaking from Bolas," Naiva muttered angrily. "Why should we
trust the Spirit Dragon? He could have been manipulating us all this time too, couldn't he?"

"He taught different secrets to the other tribes."

"Like the ghostfire?"

"Yes. By sharing his secrets among the clans, no one clan would have more power than the
others. What did Bolas offer you in exchange for bringing me to him?"
She shrugged, too ashamed to reveal the words he had said, and the horrible things she had
thought. "I didn't know I was so weak."

"You are not weak. His power is vast. I intended to tell you and your sister the full story
when you came of age, but it seems you have met your challenge now. So listen carefully.
Years ago, before you were born, I helped Bolas track down Ugin because he promised me an
end to dragons on Tarkir. To my shame, I even cast a spell that helped him turn the minds of
the fledgling dragons against Ugin. It's important you know the truth, that I was promised the
thing I wanted most—the end to all dragons—and I gave in to it. Only afterward did I
discover the promise was a lie. Am I weak?"

"No!"

"Then neither are you."

Baishya slumbered in her trance, untouched and tranquil. A surge of knotted envy twisted
through Naiva's gut; she was glad Baishya was spared this terrible scene, yet why was her
twin always the one to be spared the crude emotions and turmoil of life?

"Ah. I see what he promised you. You resent your twin."

"I love her!"

"Yes. It's possible to both love and resent someone at the same time. But you two will always
be bound, no matter what happens."

Naiva scrubbed tears from her cheeks, hating how they made her feel. "You were holding her
hand. Did you see the vision? The water and the popping bubbles?"

"No, I did not. Your nature as twins must give you a window into whatever she is seeing."

"What is she seeing, if Ugin is dead? Or is he just sleeping?"

"His bones tell us he is dead. Yet his essence is contained within these hedrons. He is the soul
of Tarkir. That must be why shamans can communicate with the part of him that is rooted in
Tarkir, even if he is dead. Just as we have our ways of communicating with the ancestors."

"Why does that matter to us? Why not let Bolas have what he wants so he'll go away?"

"I do not believe Bolas can destroy the hedrons. Even if he can, if he destroys the hedrons,
then the essence of Ugin will be obliterated. If his essence is destroyed, then even if the rock
of Tarkir remains, it will no longer have a soul. That will be the death of our people and all of
Tarkir. Even the dragons. As much as I hate the dragons, I love my people more. I do not
want them to perish, even if it means saving the dragons."
 Crucible of the Spirit Dragon | Art by: Jung Park

Naiva gazed on her sister's face. Baishya's expression was peaceful, but the rapid movements
of her eyes gave away that some part of her mind was active.

"The bubbles are memories," Naiva said.

"Take Baishya's hand again. Find out what Ugin is trying to tell us."

Naiva did resent Baishya and her magic and her strange surety of purpose, both dynamic and
mysterious. For years, she'd felt as if people thought her lesser because she was only a hunter,
and there were plenty of hunters, while whisperers were rare and thus precious. She'd
pretended not to envy her. It was a relief to have the sour envy dragged into the open, even as
repugnant as it was. Beneath the sheltering hedrons, no claw from Bolas's mind could rend
her heart. However annoyed she often was at Bai, she didn't want to imagine the world
without her in it.

She smiled at her sister's face, twin to her own, the mirror she'd looked into for all of her life.
After a decisive nod at Grandmother, she took hold of Baishya's hand. The world around her
fell away as the glittering cliffs of Ugin's dormant mind bound her.

THE LANDSCAPE IS A SILVERY SHEET OF WATER AS FLAT AND REFLECTIVE AS A MIRROR

EXTENDING TO THE HORIZON ON ALL SIDES. HERE AND THERE, ROCKY ISLANDS LIKE SPIRES RISE
FROM THE ENDLESS SEA, EACH CREATING A PERFECT RESTING PLACE ON WHICH TO MEDITATE.

NO WIND STIRS THE AIR, YET GLIMMERING, TRANSLUCENT GLOBES FLOAT LIKE BUBBLES
CAUGHT IN A BREEZE THAT TOUCHES NOTHING ELSE.

ONE OF THESE GLOBES DRIFTS CLOSE, AND CLOSER YET TO THE DREAMING SHADOW OF THE
GIRL ASLEEP ATOP THE WATERS. WHEN ITS FRAIL SURFACE TOUCHES THE EDGE OF HER MISTY
FORM, IT POPS. THE THIN SPHERE OF LIQUID SPILLS MEMORY INTO THE SHADOW OF HER MIND.
A DRAGON HOVERS OVER THE STILL WATERS, STARING INTO ITS REFLECTION, A MIRROR WHICH
LOOKS BACK ON ITSELF. THE REFLECTION IS SO COMPLETE IN EVERY DETAIL THAT IT MIGHT BE
THE ORIGINAL DRAGON LOOKING INTO A MIRRORING SEA, AND THE DRAGON FLOATING ALOFT
MIGHT BE ITS REFLECTION, COMPLETE IN EVERY DETAIL.

ALTHOUGH THIS REALM IS PERFECTLY CREATED FOR MEDITATION, ALTHOUGH HE HAS RESTED
HERE FOR LONG PERIODS TO CONTEMPLATE MYSTERY AND ETERNITY, UGIN CANNOT CALM HIS
TURBULENT THOUGHTS NOW. HE'D BEEN SO SURE NICOL WOULD BE OVERJOYED TO SEE HIM,
WOULD WANT HIM TO SHARE THE WONDROUS DETAILS OF HIS FASCINATING JOURNEYS
THROUGH THE PLANES. BUT HE'D JUDGED WRONG. OR MAYBE HE HAD ONLY MISJUDGED
HIMSELF.

HE SHOULD NEVER HAVE LEFT THE BIRTH MOUNTAIN, YET HE HADN'T FLED DOMINARIA ON
PURPOSE. THE SPARK HAD TAKEN HIM UNAWARES. IT HAD FLUNG HIM OUTWARD LIKE A FISH
HOOKED AND HAULED OUT OF THE WATER, THE ONLY HOME IT HAD EVER KNOWN, TO BE
THROWN ONTO UNFAMILIAR SHORES. HE HADN'T UNDERSTOOD WHAT HAPPENED UNTIL HE'D
LANDED ON TARKIR, AND THEN THE SENSE OF BELONGING AND CONNECTION HE'D FELT FOR
TARKIR HAD KEPT HIM PREOCCUPIED FOR FAR TOO LONG.

Seek the Horizon | Art by: Min Yum

WAS HE AT FAULT? OR WAS IT JUST THE WAY THINGS HAD FALLEN OUT? MAYBE IF HE'D
STAYED, EVENTS WOULD HAVE UNFOLDED IN THE SAME WAY. NICOL HAD SUCCUMBED TO THE
WORST IN HIMSELF, AND NOW, HE INTENDED TO INFLICT HIS POWER AND ANGER UPON ALL OF
DOMINARIA.

REGRET FOR WHAT DOMINARIA WOULD SUFFER AS THE DRAGONS WENT TO WAR WITH EACH
OTHER BATTLED WITH THE RELIEF THAT NICOL WAS STUCK THERE. UNABLE TO PLANESWALK,
HE COULD NEVER IMPOSE HIS TERRIBLE VISION OF LAW AND JUSTICE ON THE REST OF THE
PLANES. THAT WAS SOMETHING, AT LEAST.
A BRIGHT FLASH LIKE THE RISING OF A SECOND SUN SPILLS A SPLASH OF GOLD ACROSS THE
STILL WATERS. A HOWL OF RAGE SUNDERS THE PEACEFUL SILENCE.

A HUGE BODY FALLS LIKE A STONE FLUNG OUT OF THE HEAVENS. JUST BEFORE HE HITS THE
WATER, NICOL BOLAS SPREADS HIS WINGS AND RISES. HE SHINES AS BRIGHTLY AS THE SUN,
AND IRE IS HIS COLOR.

WITH A HOWL ON THE WIND AND A SEARING BLAST OF FIRE, HE DIVES MURDEROUSLY TOWARD
HIS BROTHER. UGIN STARES, BEWILDERED BY THE ABRUPT ATTACK, THINKING AT FIRST IT
MIGHT BE AN EXCESS OF JOYFUL CELEBRATION. ONLY WHEN THE STINGING SPARKS OF NICOL'S
FIRE WASH OVER HIS HEAD, BLISTERING HIS EYES, DOES HE SHEAR TO ONE SIDE. HIS RIGHT
WING SKIMS THE WATER'S SURFACE, CUTTING A GASH THROUGH HIS OWN REFLECTION. HE
RIGHTS HIMSELF, LEVELING OUT, AND RACES AWAY TOWARD THE ARCHIPELAGO OF ISLETS.
NICOL PURSUES. HIS FURY GRANTS HIM A STRENGTH AND SPEED THAT WEARY, SORROW-
RIDDEN UGIN LACKS.

FIRE BURNS AT UGIN'S REAR CLAWS. A WASH OF CAUSTIC MAGIC LIKE A CLOUD OF VENOM
NUMBS HIS HINDQUARTERS. HE DODGES IN AMONG THE ISLETS. HE'S EXPLORED HERE OFTEN,
RESTED UPON THESE CRAGGY OUTCROPS UNDER THE SILVERY SKY AND ITS PLACID MOONS. HE
KNOWS JUST WHERE TO TWIST AND TURN, LEAVING NICOL TO OVERSHOOT WITH A BELLOW OF
ANGER AND CLUMSILY TURN AROUND.

BUT NICOL FIGURES OUT THE GAME QUICKLY. HE CHANGES TACTICS, ASCENDING SO HE CAN
SPOT UGIN FROM ABOVE WITH NO ROCKY OBSTACLES IN HIS PATH.

UGIN'S SHOUT CARVES WAVES INTO THE WATER AS IF IT HAS BECOME A POWERFUL WIND.
"NICOL! WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY ATTACKING ME?"

"YOU HOARDED THE KNOWLEDGE OF THE PLANES TO YOURSELF. YOU LIED TO ME. YOU
TAUNTED ME WITH A VISION OF THE TREASURE YOU HAD DISCOVERED, AND THEN YOU
SPITEFULLY ABANDONED ME."

"I CAME BACK FOR YOU—"

"YOU NEVER CAME BACK FOR ME. YOU ONLY RETURNED TO MOCK ME BECAUSE YOU COULDN'T
BE CONTENT UNLESS YOU WERE SURE I WOULD SUFFER FOR ETERNITY KNOWING YOU HAD WON
A PRIZE I COULD NEVER TOUCH."

"THAT'S NOT TRUE. I DIDN'T KNOW—"

"OF COURSE YOU KNEW."

NICOL PLUNGES TOWARD THE WATER, CLAWS OUT. AS UGIN DODGES, HE RAISES A DENSE FOG
OFF THE WATER TO CONCEAL HIS MOVEMENT. NICOL DRAGS A FURROW THROUGH THE WATER,
AND WAVES RIPPLE IN GREAT SWELLS OUTWARD THEN SLOWLY QUIET AS UGIN CONSIDERS
WHAT TO DO.
WINGBEATS CARRY NICOL ALOFT AGAIN. HE BEGINS TO CIRCLE AS THE HAZE SLOWLY
DISSIPATES. "UGIN! DON'T BE TOO MUCH OF A COWARD TO ADMIT YOUR TREACHERY. I'LL HAVE
MY REVENGE EITHER WAY."

Nicol Bolas, the Ravager | Art by: Svetlin Velinov

UGIN HAS TRAVELED THROUGH THE MULTIVERSE WITH THE GREATEST CURIOSITY, OBSERVING
AS HE GOES, RECALLING THE LESSONS OF TE JU KI AND THE EXAMPLE OF CHROMIUM RHUELL.
HE HAS LEARNED THE MAGIC OF DISCOVERY, OF INVESTIGATION, OF DISCERNMENT, AND EVEN
OF DEFENSE. WHAT HE HAS TAKEN NO TIME TO LEARN IS THE MAGIC OF ATTACK AND ASSAULT.
HE WOULD ALWAYS PREFER TO TALK RATHER THAN FIGHT, TO BUILD RATHER THAN TEAR
DOWN. HE CANNOT WIN BY COPYING NICOL'S AGGRESSION. ONLY SHREWDNESS, AND A BIT OF
DRAGON TRICKERY, CAN SAVE HIM NOW.

"HOW DID YOU GAIN THE SPARK?" HE ASKS, BECAUSE KNOWING WHY MAY HELP HIM
UNDERSTAND WHAT NICOL HAS BECOME.

"THE SPARK YOU MEANT TO WITHHOLD FROM ME?"

"I COULD NEVER HAVE GIVEN YOU THE SPARK. I DID NOT SEEK IT. IT CAME TO ME UNBIDDEN."

"SO YOU CLAIM, BUT I DON'T BELIEVE YOU. AND NOW THE SPARK IS MINE. I WILL NOT SHARE IT
WITH YOU. I WILL NOT SHARE THE PLANES WITH AN ENEMY WHO BETRAYED ME."

"I AM NOT YOUR ENEMY—"

NICOL DIVES AGAIN, SILENT AND DETERMINED.

UGIN TAKES THE ONLY PATH LEFT OPEN TO HIM, EVEN IF IT MEANS NICOL WILL BRAND HIM A
WEAKLING AND A COWARD FOR IT. HE WALKS OUT OF THE MEDITATION REALM AND THROUGH
THE DARKNESS TO DROP INTO STORM-WRACKED ZENDIKAR. WITHIN THE TUMULT OF CLOUDS,
HE GLIDES ON THE STORM WINDS, SURE HE CAN AT LEAST CATCH HIS BREATH AND THINK ABOUT
WHAT TO DO NEXT, HOW TO ESCAPE UNTIL NICOL CALMS DOWN, HOW TO NEGOTIATE, HOW TO
CONVINCE HIS TWIN THAT IT WAS IGNORANCE AND NOT MALICE.

BUT NICOL IS RIGHT ON HIS TAIL, BURSTING INTO THE DARKNESS IN A FLASH OF GOLDEN LIGHT.
AGAIN, UGIN WALKS, AND AGAIN, SEEKING A PLANE THAT WILL CONCEAL HIM JUST FOR A
SHORT WHILE. FROM BUSTLING KEPHALAI TO GROWING RAVNICA AND ON AND ON, HE FLEES
WITH NICOL BREATHING DOWN HIS NECK, NEVER SLACKENING IN HIS PURSUIT.

IT'S GROWING HARDER FOR UGIN TO SEE AS HIS BLISTERED EYES DEVELOP PUSTULES, AS THE
NUMBNESS CREEPS UP HIS EXTREMITIES FROM THE MAGIC NICOL WIELDS. HE'LL HEAL IN TIME.
DRAGONS HAVE THAT GIFT. BUT HE CANNOT REST, HE CANNOT EAT, HE CAN DO NOTHING BUT
RUN. AS HE RACES TO STAY AHEAD OF NICOL'S UNQUENCHABLE ANIMOSITY, HE BEGINS TO
FEEL HIS WOUNDS EATING AWAY AT HIS STRENGTH.

YEARNING FLASHES: HE COULD RETURN TO TARKIR, HIDE WHERE HIS SOUL FEELS AT PEACE,
WHERE THE WORLD WELCOMES HIM AND WISHES TO HEAL HIM. BUT THEN TARKIR ITSELF
BECOMES VULNERABLE TO NICOL'S RAGE. HE WOULD RATHER DIE THAN LET TARKIR BE
WANTONLY DESTROYED, AND IF ANYONE WOULD COMMIT SUCH A VILE, REMORSELESS ACT,
BOLAS WOULD.

AS THE THOUGHT WASHES OVER HIM, HE SEES IN HIS MIND'S EYE THE STILL WATERS OF THE
MEDITATION REALM. HE SEES HIMSELF REFLECTED IN THAT LIQUID MIRROR, DOWN TO EVERY
DETAIL. WHAT IS THE MEDITATION REALM, REALLY? IT'S A MYSTERY HE HAS YET TO FATHOM.

TE JU KI'S WISE WORDS SWEEP OVER HIM AS A BREATH OF WARM WIND, WITH A PERFUME THAT
CALMS HIS TUMULTUOUSLY BEATING HEARTS.

DOESN'T DEATH SCARE YOU? HE HAD ASKED HER. AND SHE HAD ANSWERED:

MY ESSENCE WILL CONTINUE TO EXIST IN OTHER FORMS. ALL THINGS END. SOMETIMES THAT IS NOT
THE SAME AS DYING.

HE KNOWS WHAT HE MUST DO. NICOL WILL NEVER STOP PURSUING HIM, NOT UNLESS HE THINKS
HIS TWIN IS DEAD.

HE PLANESWALKS BACK TO THE MEDITATION REALM, WHERE HE WAITS, FLOATING ABOVE THE
STILL WATERS, OR PERHAPS HIS REFLECTION FLOATS, LOOKING DOWN ON HIMSELF. HE IS
EXHAUSTED YET BUOYED UP BY NEW STRENGTH, BY A SURETY THAT HE WILL REJECT WHAT
NICOL HAS BECOME.
 Pools of Becoming | Art by: Jason Chan

IN A BURST OF LIGHT, NICOL APPEARS HIGH IN THE LUSTROUS SKY. HE DIVES, ALL TEETH AND
CLAW. IN A FLASH OF COMPREHENSION, UGIN SEES HOW MALEVOLENCE IS THREADED THROUGH
HIS TWIN'S ENTIRE BEING. MAYBE IT WAS ONLY A TINY SEED WITHIN HIM, LONG AGO; MAYBE
UGIN LEAVING ALLOWED IT TO THRIVE AND FLOURISH. THE BROTHER HE WAS BORN WITH,
WHOM HE FLEW WITH—NICOL—HAS BEEN ENTIRELY DEVOURED BY BOLAS, THE NAME NICOL
GAVE HIMSELF BECAUSE HE COULD ONLY MEASURE HIMSELF AGAINST OTHERS. MAYBE
NOTHING UGIN COULD HAVE DONE WOULD HAVE CHANGED THIS OUTCOME. BUT HE REGRETS
THAT IT HAS COME TO THIS.

WITH A SIGH, UGIN ACCEPTS HIS DEATH. HE LETS GO.

BOLAS ROARS IN TRIUMPH AS HIS MAGIC BILLOWS IN A STEAMING CLOUD AROUND HIS HATED
FOE, AS HIS CLAWS SLICE DEEP INTO HIS ENEMY'S HOTLY BEATING HEARTS, AS HIS TEETH SLASH
HIS RIVAL'S UNPROTECTED THROAT.

WITH A MIGHTY SPLASH, UGIN FALLS INTO THE STILL WATERS. THE IMPACT RESOUNDS LIKE
THUNDER. MONSTROUS WAVES RISE FROM THE DISPLACEMENT AND SWEEP ACROSS THE
CRAGGY ISLETS, CRASHING AND DESTROYING THE ANCIENT ROCKS. THE DISTURBANCE WASHES
FAR BEYOND THE BOUNDS OF THE MEDITATION REALM, SPILLING INTO THE FATHOMLESS DARK
CAVITY WHOSE INFINITE WEB CONNECTS THE PLANES THEMSELVES. THE SEA EMPTIES,
EXPOSING THE ROCK OF THE SEABED LIKE BONES LEFT TO BLEACH IN THE SUN.

DRAGGED BY THE SHEER SHOCKING FORCE OF THE CATACLYSM, BOLAS FLARES LIKE A SUN
AND VANISHES, TORN AWAY TO THE PLANE OF HIS BIRTH, FALLING TO THE ISLANDS OF
MADARA.

WHERE ONCE THE REALM WAS FILLED WITH THE SILENCE OF TRANQUILITY, NOW IT IS VACANT.
IT HAS BECOME A WILDERNESS OF ROCK, BARREN AND WRECKED, ALL ITS SERENITY DRAINED
AWAY INTO THE INTERSTICES OF THE BLIND ETERNITIES, A CHASM THAT CAN NEVER BE FILLED.

NOTHING MOVES BECAUSE NOTHING REMAINS.

A MOMENT PASSES. A YEAR. A GENERATION.

A MILLENNIUM.

OR MAYBE, NO TIME AT ALL.

A PALE SHEET OF LIQUID TRICKLES UP AS OUT OF NOWHERE, RETURNING FROM THE UNSEEN
AND UNTOUCHABLE WEB OF DARKNESS. WITH EERIE SILENCE, IT INEXORABLY RISES, REFILLING
THE REALM WITH ITS SILVERY WATERS. WHEN THE WATERS CEASE RISING, THEY GROW STILL,
AND IN THAT STILL MIRROR WAITS THE REFLECTION OF THE DRAGON.

HE INHALES, PULLING THE WATERS INTO HIMSELF. THEY CURL AND FROTH INTO EVERY
CREVICE AND WRINKLE AND SCALE AND INDENTATION UNTIL HIS HORNS SPARKLE AND HIS
CLAWS GLEAM AND HIS EYES SHINE WITH MAGIC. IS HE FLESH AND BONE, OR IS HE SPIRIT AND
MAGIC? DOES IT MATTER ?

THE DRAGON FLOATS ABOVE THE DRY SEABED BENEATH THE LUMINOUS SKY.

HE SWEEPS HIS GAZE ACROSS THE FRACTURED REALM AND ITS BARREN, BROKEN LANDSCAPE.
THIS MANNER OF DESTRUCTION IS THE PROMISE BOLAS HAS MADE; IT IS WHAT BOLAS WANTS
FOR ANYTHING OR ANYONE WHO DEFIES HIM. SOMEONE MUST STAND AGAINST HIM, SOMEONE
WHO KNOWS HIM WELL ENOUGH TO DEFEAT HIM. AND BOLAS IS NOT THE ONLY THREAT
AGAINST THE MULTIVERSE.

Apex of Power | Art by: Svetlin Velinov

UGIN HAS A LOT TO DO IF HE MEANS TO PROTECT THE PLANES.

ON A RIPPLE OF INVISIBLE FLAME, HE DEPARTS.

THE DRY SEABED LIES QUIESCENT, EMPTY.

BUBBLES BEGIN TO SWELL UP ONE BY ONE FROM THE ROCK ITSELF. ONE BY ONE, THEY POP. THE
LIQUID OF THEIR SURFACE SLIDES INTO THE HOLLOWS AND DEPRESSIONS ON THE EMPTY
SEABED, AND SLOWLY—OH-SO SLOWLY—THE MEDITATION REALM BEGINS TO FILL UP AGAIN
WITH LOST MEMORIES.

THE WATER WAITS MOTIONLESS, CALM, YET EXPECTANT, ALMOST AWARE. ANOTHER GLOBE
SPINS UP TO THE SHADOW OF THE SLEEPING GIRL AND POPS.

IN THE MEDITATION REALM, THE GOD-EMPEROR PERCHES ATOP AN OUTCROPPING OF ROCK

AMID THE RUINS OF A ONCE HANDSOME TEMPLE WHOSE COLUMNS AND ROOF WERE DASHED TO
THE GROUND AT THE TIME OF THE CATACLYSM. TO BOLAS, THESE MARKS OF DEVASTATION ARE
MARKS OF VICTORY. HIS WINGS, OUTSPREAD, CAST A SHADOW OVER THE WATERS. HE CAN'T
QUITE RECALL EXACTLY WHERE UGIN FELL, BUT FALL HE DID, AND NOW THE OPAQUE WATERS
HAVE BECOME HIS GRAVE.

THIS, THE SITE OF HIS GREATEST TRIUMPH, IS A FITTING PLACE FOR HIM TO RUMINATE OVER HIS
PLANS. TO GIVE HIMSELF A FOCAL POINT ON WHICH TO CENTER HIS MEDITATION, HE CHOOSES A
SPOT AT THE CENTER OF A VAST SPAN WHERE NO ISLANDS BREAK THE SURFACE. HERE, HE
ERECTS TWO GIGANTIC CURVED HORNS SO THEY EMERGE FROM THE WATERS AS IF A
GARGANTUAN DRAGON LIES SLEEPING BENEATH, BODY HIDDEN FROM SIGHT. WHEN HE IS DONE,
THE SKY GLEAMS WITH A CONTENTMENT THAT MATCHES HIS OWN.

YET A NUB OF DISCONTENT CHAFES AGAINST HIS SATISFACTION. SHRED BY SHRED, THE MASK
OF VICTORY PEELS APART TO REVEAL THE SEED OF RANCOR BENEATH. NOT ALL OF DOMINARIA
COWERS BENEATH HIS RULE. HE HAS ENEMIES UNWISE ENOUGH TO BELIEVE THEY CAN DEFEAT
HIM. BESIDES THAT, SO MANY PLANES AWAIT HIS PRESENCE. HOW IS HE TO GRACE THEM ALL
WITH HIS MAGNIFICENCE? HOW IS HE TO PROVE THAT HE IS NOT THE LEAST, THAT HE WAS
FIRST, BEST, ALWAYS?

THE CHALLENGE ARISES BEFORE HIM LIKE THE CLIFFS OF A TOWERING MOUNTAIN, LIKE THE
VAST IMMENSITY OF A PLANES-SPANNING CHASM, LIKE THE TEEMING SWORDS AND SPEARS OF A
WORLD-SLAUGHTERING ARMY. THE INSATIABLE MAW OF HIS AMBITION WILL DEVOUR THEM
ALL.

THE WATER WAITS MOTIONLESS, CALM, YET EXPECTANT, ALMOST AWARE. ANOTHER GLOBE
SPINS UP TO THE SHADOW OF THE SLEEPING GIRL AND POPS.
IN A GREAT CITY OF GLASS AND STONE, A WINGED CREATURE WITH THE BEARDED FACE OF A
MAN AND THE GRACEFUL PAWS OF A BIG CAT GREETS THE SPIRIT DRAGON.

"UGIN, MY FRIEND, WELCOME TO MY NEWEST HOME. WHAT BRINGS YOU TO THIS PLANE?"

Azor, the Lawbringer | Art by: Ryan Pancoast

"WHEN LAST WE MET, WE DISCUSSED OUR COMMON FOE. EVERY WORLD IS IN DANGER, AS
LONG AS OUR ENEMY IS FREE AND WHOLE. THAT IS WHY I AM HERE. I HAVE DEVISED A PLAN TO
RID THE MULTIVERSE OF HIS INFLUENCE, BUT I CANNOT DO IT WITHOUT YOU."

"TO CAPTURE HIM AND TRAP HIM, YOU WILL FIRST HAVE TO LURE HIM TO A SPECIFIC
LOCATION."

"I WILL LURE HIM TO TARKIR."

"IS THE PLANE OF TARKIR NOT YOUR SOUL'S HOME? DOES SUCH A SCHEME NOT PLACE TARKIR
ITSELF IN DANGER?"

"THAT IS WHY HE WILL COME AND NOT SUSPECT ANYTHING. HE BELIEVES I WOULD NEVER RISK
TARKIR."

THE WATER WAITS MOTIONLESS, CALM, YET EXPECTANT, ALMOST AWARE. ANOTHER GLOBE
SPINS UP TO THE SHADOW OF THE SLEEPING GIRL AND POPS.
THE SPIRIT DRAGON SOARS AMID A TEMPEST, THUNDERCLOUDS SURGING AROUND HIM AS THE
WINDS BOOM AND BLUSTER. HE IS WAITING. A FLASH OF LIGHT HERALDS THE ARRIVAL OF
NICOL BOLAS, HIS CURVED HORNS NOW EMBELLISHED WITH A GEM FLOATING BETWEEN THEM
LIKE A THIRD EYE THAT SEES ONLY WHAT HE LACKS, WHAT HE DOES NOT YET POSSESS.

THE TWO ELDER DRAGONS FACE OFF, CIRCLING AS THE STORM CREATES A FUNNEL OF RAGING
WINDS AROUND THEM. THEY ARE WELL-MATCHED, ONE ARMED WITH CUNNING AND THE OTHER
WITH WISDOM. THE SPIRIT DRAGON KNOWS IT IS IMPOSSIBLE TO KILL BOLAS OUTRIGHT. THAT
IS WHY HE HAS DEVISED THIS ELABORATE PLAN WITH HIS ALLY: THEIR ONLY CHANCE IS TO
TRAP THEIR FOE SO HE CAN NEVER PLANESWALK AGAIN. TO DO THAT, HE MUST HOLD BOLAS
HERE ON TARKIR UNTIL THE MAGICAL DEVICE CAN BE ACTIVATED.

WITH A ROAR, HE WAKENS THE FORCE OF TARKIR'S SOUL. DRAGONS POUR IN FROM ALL ACROSS
THE PLANE IN ANSWER TO UGIN'S CALL. EVEN WITH THIS ADVANTAGE IN NUMBERS, THE SPIRIT
DRAGON DOES NOT ATTACK. THIS IS ALL A FEINT, TO LURE IN BOLAS, TO MAKE HIM FORGET TO
BE CAUTIOUS.

YET EVEN THE BEST LAID PLANS MAY CRACK. BOLAS TURNS THE DRAGONS OF TARKIR AGAINST
THEIR OWN PROGENITOR, AND WHEN HIS ENEMY HAS BEEN WEAKENED BY THEIR ATTACKS, HE
BREAKS UGIN'S BODY WITH A DEATHBLOW. THE SPIRIT DRAGON PLUMMETS TO THE GROUND.
THE FORCE OF HIS IMPACTS SMASHES A CHASM INTO THE ROCK THAT ALTERS THE LANDSCAPE.
THE REVERBERATIONS OF THE DESTRUCTION WILL ROLL ON FOR YEARS AND GENERATIONS AND
MILLENNIA THROUGHOUT THE MULTIVERSE.

VICTORIOUS, BOLAS VANISHES IN A BURST OF LIGHT.

THE WATER WAITS MOTIONLESS, CALM, YET EXPECTANT, ALMOST AWARE. ANOTHER GLOBE
SPINS UP TO THE SHADOW OF THE SLEEPING GIRL AND POPS.

IN A GREAT CITY OF GLASS AND STONE, A WINGED CREATURE WITH THE BEARDED FACE OF A
MAN AND THE GRACEFUL PAWS OF A BIG CAT GREETS THE SPIRIT DRAGON. IT IS THE SAME
MEMORY, REPEATED EXACTLY.

"UGIN, MY FRIEND."
THE HUNTER KNOWS WHEN SHE'S CAUGHT HER PREY. A DARK SHAPE CUTS ACROSS THE
SHADOW OF THE SLEEPING GIRL. A FIVE-FINGERED HAND BENT IN THE SHAPE OF A CLAW
REACHES INTO THE SHADOW OF THE GIRL AND YANKS HER OUT OF THE VISION.

Naiva jolted upright.

"Ouch! Let go!" Her sister shook off Naiva's hand and rubbed at her shoulder. "It's like you
scratched my heart!"

"Did you see it?" Naiva demanded.

Baishya rubbed her face, shook herself, and let out a sigh. "I saw into an ocean of memories.
Did you see it too, Nai?"

"Yes. Through you."

Grandmother was still seated cross-legged, watching intently. "Tell me."

Speaking in a rush, one picking up when the other paused to catch her breath, the two girls
described what they'd seen. When they finished, Grandmother considered in silence for a few
breaths, turning over what they'd said. Then she nodded in her decisive way.

"The Spirit Dragon has not forgotten Tarkir. We have a chance to deflect Bolas. One
desperate chance. I will take it."

Ugin, the Spirit Dragon | Art by: Raymond Swanland

"Do you mean to surrender yourself to him?" Naiva demanded.

"I do."

"But he already manipulated you once."

"Yes, so I am prepared this time. I won't be as vulnerable."

"What if he kills you?" Baishya asked, voice cracking as she clutched at her grandmother's
hand.

"I don't fear dying. I helped bring this about, so it's proper I help end it."

Naiva pulled her twin's hand away from their grandmother. "You'll stay in here, Bai. You
have to stay safe because who else can communicate with the Spirit Dragon?"

"No," said Grandmother. "Bolas got his claws into you, Naiva. I do not blame you for it, but
Baishya will wear your mantle and go out in your place."

"What difference will that make? If he invades her mind or your mind, he'll see it's not me."

"Maybe. But he's arrogant. And he's never seen Baishya, so he may not believe he needs to
probe any deeper since he surely believes he controls you. It's a chance we have to take."

"I can do it, Nai," said Baishya. "The second thing a whisperer learns is how to deflect
magic."

"He's too powerful. He'll kill you both."

"She need only deflect his touch long enough to sow a seed of doubt, just as her wearing your
mantle will ease his suspicion," said Grandmother.

"And the hedron shield will offer a little protection, like an extension of a whisperer's
headdress," added Baishya.

"Yes," agreed Grandmother. "Now do as I say."

Naiva took in a calming breath and released it with a hiss blended of frustration, anger, fear,
and resolve. The girls swapped mantles.

Grandmother examined them. "It's fortunate you wear your hair the same."

"Wait." Naiva pulled off the necklace she wore, threaded to the tooth of a bear she'd killed
when she was sixteen, and draped it over Baishya's neck. Then she hugged her sister.
Fear had lodged beneath her ribs like a spear point, but now that the decision was made, her
mind could fix on the hunt. She handed over her spear. Grandmother and Baishya crawled
out through the low opening, leaving her behind in the tent-sized space entirely enclosed by
the walls of the rock cocoon. Their footsteps scraped on the dirt as they walked forward.

She could not bear waiting in ignorance, so she knelt beside the opening, adjusting her
position so she could peek out without being seen from outside.

Grandmother and Baishya stood in the shadow of the dragon. One huff of fire, one swipe of
claw, one blast of magic would easily kill them, yet they did not cringe or grovel.

No listener could mistake the gloating rumble of the dragon's words.

"Yasova Dragonclaw. You have served me well."

"And you, Nicol Bolas, you have acted exactly as the Spirit Dragon knew you would."
Grandmother flung her spear of words without hesitation. "You think you're the deceiver, but
he deceived you."

The shadow rippled as the dragon moved restlessly. In a sharper tone, he said, "What do you
mean?"

"You came back to see if he was really dead."

Sparks flashed along the ground in a warning cast of deadly rain. "Of course he is dead. I
killed him."

"The last time you thought you killed him, he tricked you. I am here to tell you he has tricked
you again."

"Why do you lie?" the dragon cried. "I saw him fall! I saw his body hit the ground. Your own
granddaughter confirmed it. Little Naiva, is it not true? Ugin is dead!"

Tomb of the Spirit Dragon | Art by: Sam Burley

"If you're so sure Ugin is dead, why did you return to Tarkir?" said Baishya in her most
scornful voice, the one that usually annoyed Naiva out of all reason. Hearing it turned on a
stupendously powerful Planeswalker, who could obliterate grandmother and granddaughter
with the merest touch of magic, made her appreciate her twin's quiet but sharp courage, so
different from her own brash boldness. Yet who was the bold one now? Not Naiva, hiding
inside the cave-like space within a hedron while others faced down the dragon.

Baishya went on in the same goading tone. "You can't admit you came back to make sure he
was really dead this time, after he tricked you last time."

The shadow ripped away, vanishing as the dragon flew. Naiva dropped flat on the ground,
craning her neck so she could see the sky and the canyon walls. His physical form had
vanished from view, but his magic erupted in a crackling display of lightning high above
followed by four massive booms of thunder. A magical wind blasted down from on high,
forcing Grandmother and Baishya to their knees. The hedrons shuddered beneath the gale.
The wind was so strong that the scale-like oval of thin rock they'd used before to cover the
opening was slapped sideways to block Naiva's view, leaving only a finger's-width gap to let
in light and air.

As suddenly as it rose, the gusting wind died. A darkness spread over the ground with the
great dragon's return. Though she could not see him, every fiber of her being felt his massive,
malevolent presence like a claw at her throat. She tried to take in a breath but choked instead
on a venomous and consuming terror. She would lose them both. If she ran out now, she
could strike at him, distract him while the other two ran for the safety of the hedrons. She'd
be the bold one, the fierce hunter, just as she'd always known should be her rightful place in
the tribe.

She pushed up into a crouch, readying to shove the slab aside and cast herself against the foe.

Instead, she paused, forcing herself to breathe more slowly.

Maybe Grandmother feared that even with the protection of the hedrons, Naiva was too weak
to be trusted. Or maybe the fear that her beloved grandmother didn't value her was her own
weakness speaking, a foe only she could defeat. She had to trust the woman who had raised
her, who had saved the Temur people from Atarka's wrath.

Hands clenched, she focused her thoughts. However hard it was to do so, she had to accept
that her part in today's hunt was not to throw the spear but to remain concealed.

As the great dragon exhaled in anger, a wash of stinging heat swirled through the narrow
crack and into the tiny chamber beneath the hedrons. "Do not toy with me. I can kill you both
in an eye blink. After that I will jubilantly devastate Tarkir until not even the slightest bug
crawls upon its blighted surface."

"Then get on with it instead of boasting," replied Grandmother in her usual brusque tone.
"Kill us if you will, raze and ruin Tarkir if you choose, because it makes no difference to
Ugin's plan. There will always be a greater power than the one you wield."

"I am the greatest power!" His voice boomed, cracking rocks. "As you'll soon see, Yasova
Dragonclaw, when your own beloved granddaughter drives a knife into your heart. Do it,
Naiva. I command you! Kill her, and I will grant you all that you desire, dominion over this
world to become your private hunting grounds. You will be first and best, always."

The words drove into Naiva's heart as a secret and poisonous wish. First and best, always.
Grandmother should have been training her to become leader after her instead of wasting her
time on Baishya and the other shamans. Their path was dead, like Ugin. It ought to be dead,
and she could kill it once and for all.

She need only shove aside the slab of rock and crawl out. Baishya had never been as
physically strong, so it would be easy to wrestle the knife from her sister's hand. She would
press the knife against Grandmother's throat, feel the thunder of her pulse, the vulnerability of
her beating heart.

The great dragon sucked in an expectant breath. His pleasure in watching love turn to hate,
loyalty into betrayal, spread like a devouring heat over the scene.

Her fingers touched the grainy rock shield, ready to shove it aside.

Baishya's voice slapped her like a chilling wind. "Maybe I don't want to hunt. Maybe nothing
you offer tempts me, because from everything I've heard, you're stuck in the past, circling
around and around your rivalry with Ugin—"

Nicol Bolas, the Arisen | Art by: Svetlin Velinov

"I'm not stuck!"

"You're about to be," Grandmother interrupted curtly.

Naiva pulled her hand back, teeth gritted as she struggled against a ferocious desire to charge
forward. For the plan to work, she had to stay concealed. She had to.

"You're standing right where the hedrons concentrate magical force into a nexus of great
power," Grandmother went on. "The Immortal Sun is pointed here, at this very spot on
Tarkir. It will drag you to another plane and, there, trap you for all eternity. Why do you think
we've kept you talking all this time? So it can be activated, and you'll never planeswalk
again."

If he was torn from Tarkir, he could not make her first and best among hunters. Only she
could stop them, and only then could she get what she had always wanted, what she deserved.
Again, she pressed a hand, fingers spread, against the slab's smooth surface, ready to shove it
aside. A cooling pulse of calm raced down her arm. Its steadying vibration bled a harsh light
into the depths of her soul.

It was a child's petty, selfish desire that drove her. She was better than this. She would be
better than this. Shaking, she closed her hand into a fist and tucked it against her throat as she
swallowed the rancid flavor of her resentment and envy.
Outside, as if in reaction to that unseen movement, Grandmother inhaled audibly, as if in
anticipation and suspense. "Ah! Listen! Do you hear the artifact's hum, Naiva?"

"I hear it!" cried Baishya in the falsest tone Naiva had ever heard, but how was the dragon to
know that when he couldn't even tell the twins apart? "Just as Ugin said it would happen!
Look up above! Do you see the light? A second sun in the heavens!"

A roar of fury rattled the hedrons. Shaken loose, the scale-like slab of rock tilted, teetered,
and fell sideways to unblock the opening just as the vast shadow lifted. Boulders crashed
down from the rim onto the open ground where Grandmother and Baishya stood. An
avalanche of rock and ice pummeled the indestructible hedrons, splintering into shards that
flew through the gap against Naiva's face to gash her cheeks. She tugged her twin's mantle
over her head to protect herself. Dust boiled up to obscure the scene beyond until she could
see nothing excepting a dizzying dark whirlwind that filled the world. He had struck, and
those she loved most would be obliterated, and after them, all of Tarkir . . . and her with it.

The light outside changed color with a harsh golden flash that blinded her. Air swirled out of
the opening, pulling the choking squall of dust back outside.

Somehow, she wasn't dead yet. Her heart still beat.

Slowly, in ominous silence, the particles settled. Her lips were annoyingly filthy, coated with
a foul-tasting grit. The silence weighed horribly, like the end of all hope, the sick regret that it
had taken so little for the dragon to manipulate her. Grandmother had been right about her
weakness.

Yet still her heart beat. She had resisted Bolas's magic and stayed inside the hedron. Tarkir
wasn't ravaged and broken.

Cautiously, she ducked down to peer out the opening.

Snow melted off the angled hedrons by the heat dripped onto the ground in little plops and
ticks. She rubbed her burning eyes as the world's shadows and brightness gradually came
back into view. Scraping her hands, she crawled outside over a sliding heap of broken rocks
into a clearing half-filled with the deadly debris. The canyon walls rose solidly above her,
watching over the untouched hedrons. The sky gleamed a brilliant blue, the sun blazing high
overhead in magnificent indifference just as it did every sunny day.

The dragon had vanished. But she was alone.

Grandmother had saved Tarkir, but at the cost of her and Baishya's lives.

Staggered, she rocked backward, hitting the hedron wall. Her legs gave out and, helpless to
stop herself, she slid to the ground. What had she done, stupidly cowering inside the hedron?
Why hadn't she acted, flung herself at the dragon?
But she shook off the useless thoughts. The chance of death had been part of the plan. It
wouldn't have worked otherwise. Yet she could not breathe, thinking of how she would have
to walk forward through the world without her twin beside her. Her heart was ripped in two,
but somehow, she had to stand up and find the others. Just not yet. She couldn't find the
strength quite yet.

A faint scuff broke the silence. It sounded exactly like a foot shifting on the dirt, but there
was no one but her in the clearing, just a heap of huge rocks. Someone coughed.

Jolted by adrenalin, she jumped up with knife in hand. A big boulder shifted with a great,
grinding rumble. It crunched sideways to reveal Grandmother and Baishya standing, alive, in
a tiny pocket of space made by several boulders packed together. A powerful glow of magic
faded from her twin's outstretched arms as Baishya slumped forward.

Scarcely able to breathe for the dust in her lungs and the hope choking her heart, Naiva
scrambled recklessly over to them, scrabbling and sliding on loose rock until she reached the
patch of untouched ground. She caught her twin around the back, holding her up. Her twin
was warm. Breathing.

"You used your magic to hold off the rocks!" she cried, because it was the only thing she
could think of to say. Tears cut trails down her dust-smeared, blood-streaked face.

Temur Runemark | Art by: Chris Rallis

"Is he gone?" Baishya whispered, leaning trustingly against her sister.

"He's gone," said Grandmother. "He could not take the chance it was a bluff."

"I was sure he'd killed you!" Naiva started to shake as the full import hit her. Baishya: dead.
But not dead. She was alive. They had survived.

"It was a risk," agreed Grandmother. "But he knew that if I was telling the truth, then even
taking the time to fly down to swat us with his own claws might have been too late for him. I
believe he was sure the avalanche created by his departure would kill us."
"And you were telling the truth in a way," said Baishya. "There was a plot to trap Bolas using
the Immortal Sun. Except Ugin died before he could set it in motion."

"Is the Spirit Dragon really dead?" Naiva studied the unmarked surface of the hedrons,
thinking of the vivid fullness of the memories the girls had shared. How was it possible that
recollection could pass from the dead to the living so strongly?

"All things end," said Grandmother. "Sometimes that is not the same as dying."

A crack of sound brought their heads up. Loosened rock broke off the lower canyon wall and
slid noisily down the hedrons to cover the opening into the chamber where she'd hidden.
More snaps and pops crackled around them, echoing between the high cliffs.

"We need to get out of here," said Grandmother.

They carefully picked their way up out of the debris field to where the path emerged from the
avalanche zone, pausing there to again catch their breath.

A slap of running footsteps clapped down from above. Naiva grabbed her spear from her
sister and set into a crouch, spear raised, then relaxed as their companions rushed into view.
Tae Jin ran in the lead, his ghostfire blade blazing with a formidable light.

"Quench that blade!" snapped Grandmother. "It's a flag that will bring every dragon down
upon us."

Obedient to his elder's command, the young man drew the magic back inside himself, and the
blade dissolved like mist beneath the summer sun. Then he looked at Baishya, who was
wearing Naiva's mantle and necklace. He nodded politely at her and hastened over to Naiva.

"Are you all right, Naiva?" he asked with an intent gaze that made her flush warmly. "You
must have faced the dragon alone!"

"Not alone, because I always have my twin. But how did you know it was me? We switched
mantles."

"Yes, so I see. I suppose you had some hunter's reason for it." His smile wrinkled the skin at
the edges of his eyes, like a glimpse into the elder he might one day become if Ojutai or his
broodlings did not hunt him down and kill him for the crime of being a ghostfire warrior. "It's
true when we first met I thought you two looked exactly alike. But now we've walked
together for a few days. I wouldn't mistake you for your sister ever again."

"Why is your face so red, Nai? Too much sun?" demanded Baishya with a smirk. She winked
at Tae Jin as she would wink at a cousin, and he blushed too, but he did not move away from
Naiva.

Grandmother looked from one to the other, no emotion on her face, before turning to her four
loyal hunters. Mattak, Oiyan, Rakhan, and Sorya stared over the debris that buried the open
space and the hedron's opening, the only visible residue of a titanic battle won with words
and trickery instead of might and blades.

"Was it an illusion?" Mattak asked. "I've never seen a dragon so huge, and so magnificent."

"Magnificent indeed," said Grandmother. "I hope the threat of Ugin's trap means we never
see him again."

"If only we could have persuaded him to kill the dragonlords before he departed," Naiva
muttered.

"The path of might-have-beens leads only to misery," said Grandmother. "A creature like that
does not do favors for others, only for himself. Furthermore, as I know too well myself, when
you try to shape selfish dreams into reality, it is the consequences you do not expect that hit
you hardest. We are left with what we already had. I'll accept that gratefully. Where is Fec?"

The uneven sound of a final set of footfalls was her answer. The orc arrived last of all,
holding a fine chisel in one hand and a horn in the other, his swords sheathed in their
scabbard across his back.

"Were you going to attack the dragon with the chisel or the horn?" Grandmother asked with a
sardonic lift of an eyebrow.

"It was immediately obvious to me that such a dragon could not be defeated by our feeble
magic," Fec said. "So I thought surprise might work where weapons would not."

She chuckled.

"Yet the dragon is gone, and you are alive," Fec added.

"I'll tell you the story when we're resting beneath the overhang, out of sight of roaming
dragons. Atarka and Ojutai will send broodlings to investigate today's strange events."
Grandmother started up the path. "Girls! Come along!"

Side by side they hurried after Grandmother.

Naiva was almost too delirious with joy to think, yet too brimful of energy to remain silent.
So, she spoke the first random question that flew into her mind. "What about the liver and
hearts from the broodling? Will we retrieve them on our way home?"

"Yes," said Grandmother.

Just as Naiva started to ask what the organs would be used for, Baishya interrupted
breathlessly.

"Do you think I could learn to planeswalk? Or is it a magic reserved only for dragons?"
"Not only for dragons, since I met a Planeswalker before you were born. He seemed in most
ways as human as you or me, and was especially disrespectful and a bit tedious when he
whined and begged," said Grandmother with a cough of displeasure.

Sarkhan, Fireblood | Art by: Grzegorz Rutkowski

But it was more than a cough. She was growing out of breath as they climbed the steep path
toward the rim of the canyon and had to lean heavily on her spear when she had never needed
its aid before. Where once she had seemed ageless, the difficult journey and the confrontation
with the powerful Bolas had exhausted her. Maybe she would not die this year, or even in
five years, but mortality had its claws in her. The knowledge sunk its weight into Navia's
heart like a stone. Yet now she also understood that Yasova Dragonclaw did not fear death
for herself, only the obliteration of her people.

"It's time for you two girls to understand your own responsibilities and how much rests on the
shoulders of you young ones," Grandmother went on. "The Temur clan must not die, even if
it must sleep, like Ugin, hidden until it may waken again. It can only waken if there are
memories remaining to guide it."

"How can carvings be enough?" Naiva asked.

"Enough for what? Nothing can remain the same as it was in the days of my youth, or yours,
once you are old. Change is master of us all."

They reached the overhang. Mattak and Oiyan went back outside to stand sentry, while
Rakhan and Sorya set a pot to boil over a fire. Grandmother sat wearily on a stone, letting her
granddaughters fuss about her in a way she would never have done in the past, when she took
care of them, raising them from infants to the edge of adulthood. They took off her mantle,
tidied her hair, wiped dirt and sweat off her face, and settled her with a hot tisane to warm her
hands and strengthen her lungs.

Tae Jin gave Naiva a look. "What can I do?" he asked softly.

Grandmother gestured, indicating the young man should sit beside her. Fec settled across the
fire from them and set out a neat row of carving implements on a rock bench. He began
working on the horn he'd been carrying, one that would be added to the scrimshaw collection
hidden in the caves.
"Tae Jin, you are welcome to stay with us, if that is what you wish," said Grandmother.

"I must return to my master. He has more to teach me. Afterward, it will be my responsibility
to pass on my knowledge to those who come after me, so the Jeskai Way does not die." He
looked at Naiva, sighed, and gave a slight shake of his head. "This is my duty, no matter what
else I might wish for."

"Yes, of course it is," said Grandmother briskly as Naiva wrung her hands but said nothing.
In the harsh world of the clans, duty always came first. "Ugin sent you here with a story to
tell us with the hope we could use it to drive Bolas away from Tarkir forever. But that isn't
the only reason Ugin sent you. The Spirit Dragon understood the lessons taught him by the
old wise woman Te Ju Ki. This isn't just about Ugin, and Bolas. This is about the Temur, and
the Jeskai, about all the clans on Tarkir. I remember them all, while you young ones never
knew that world. Our dragonlords mean to obliterate the knowledge of all that came before.
This is why we must do everything we can to safeguard the heart of our ancestors."

She extended an arm. Fec placed the horn in it. Turning the horn, she displayed a beautiful
carving, just begun, of two girls standing on a steep mountainside.

"Someday, perhaps long ahead in the unwritten now, people will be born who will find this
story, and it will transform their understanding of the world."

She returned the horn to Fec. He set back to work with easy concentration and consummate
skill.

Baishya nudged Naiva and whispered, "I told you Grandmother took him into the tribe for a
reason."

"I must return to Ayagor and hunt for Atarka. Above all else, she must believe she has killed
all the whisperers. She must never suspect the existence of the Whisper Mind. We do what
we must to survive. For now, you girls will stay here."

"But the opening to the hedrons is blocked," Naiva objected.

"With care, it can be dug free. Baishya, you must see if Ugin will continue to communicate
with you through the ocean of memories. Fec will record whatever you see. All that he carves
will be stored here with the rest of our hidden stories. Naiva will hunt for you, and keep you
safe."
 Highland Game | Art by: John Severin Brassell

"Will we ever be safe?" Naiva asked.

"Safe merely means the last dragon we've seen is flying away from us. As for Bolas, I hope
he will consider it too risky to return to Tarkir."

"You lied to him," Naiva added. "What if his story is the true one, and Ugin's story the lie
meant to manipulate us into saving his essence from Bolas's revenge?"

"We will never know." She bent her gaze on Tae Jin, who was sitting as still and silent as the
waters of the Meditation Realm the twins had wandered. "I know you must return to your
master. But let me ask you to please remain here for some months at least. I would like you to
recite Ugin's story once again to Fec so it can be carved and preserved in more than one
place. We people of the clans must work together to save ourselves. That is the only way.
That is also Ugin's message to us."

Naiva held her breath as Tae Jin met Grandmother's stern gaze. But he smiled and, with a
swift, shy glance at her, nodded. "Yes. I will stay here for a while."

A blaze of elation jolted her. She didn't mean to smile, yet she couldn't stop the big grin that
creased her face.

Baishya snorted and kicked Naiva in the shins.

"Ouch!" But Naiva laughed.

Tae Jin blushed again, gave a stiff cough behind a hand, and said with lofty solemnity, "I'm
still injured. I can't hope to outrun or outclimb Ojutai's broodlings until I have recovered my
full strength."

"Yes, of course that's why," said Baishya with an extravagant eye roll.

Naiva pinched her, and Baishya elbowed her hard.

Grandmother smiled one of her rare, relaxed smiles. "This is your task, my girls. Children
will be born knowing no other way than that of dragonlords. They will think it has always
been this way, that humans can only bow to dragons, that the great dragons can't be defeated.
But Ugin's story taught us another lesson, one the Spirit Dragon may not have intended. Even
the greatest of dragons can die."

"Do you truly think so?" Naiva asked.

"I truly do. For in the unwritten now, anything may come to pass."