Page 57 of The Last Dragon

“How could the dragon know that I’m on his side? There’s no guarantee he won’t try to kill me the moment he sees me… if he even exists. “

Cassian felt a twinge of mischief wash over him. How could he tell him without ruining everything?

“Haven’t you been listening? He’s a dragon shifter. All you have to do is talk to him in his human form, get your ideas across to him. Don’t think of dragons as stupid or brutal; they’re sensitive beings. He’s angry, sure, but he can listen, can’t he? Don’t be like your people—don’t see him solely as a threat, because the only real threat is war. We’ll find him, I’m sure of it. Fate has brought you into my path, and no one in this land knows the Drakensyl better than I do.”

He placed his hand on the elf’s clenched fists. Tariel stared at him with newfound curiosity, his tears forgotten.

“I’ve long tried to unravel the secret of summoning dragons,” the elf confessed. “But I’ve never succeeded. It’s as if they don’t share the same connection to nature as other creatures.”

Cassian shrugged with a feigned air of innocence, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“You thought you could summon dragons? What madness… or what arrogance! It’s amusing that you wanted to see them up close, when you’re so terribly afraid of them now.”

He looked up at the foliage rustling in the wind.

“They are beings who depend solely on their own will. They belong to the skies, and the stars are their companions. It is said that they were born of impure matter to rise to the realm of purity. They are a threat to those who think they can control them, but in the past, they inspired peace. Drakensyl was their cradle. And, if you’re curious… they love gold and jewels. They’re drawn to them, just like big, scaly magpies.”

Tariel burst into a soft laugh, closing his eyes to let the wind sweep away his wayward locks, as Cassian continued:

“There was a time when dragons and men lived in peace. That time will come again, I’m sure of it.”

Epilogue - The Past and the Future

Tariel

His conversation with Cassian had eased his pain, just enough for him to finally stop crying. A smile had even found its way onto his lips.

“I wasn’t afraid of it back then. I was… curious. I can summon anything and everything, so I thought to myself: why not a dragon? I have this tendency to want to succeed where everyone else fails.”

The elf paused, lost in thought. He looked up at the other man, who seemed to be serenely savoring the breeze. A mischievous idea suddenly took root in his mind: he gently circled around him, making a point of being loud so as not to alarm him, then jumped onto his back without warning, clinging to him with feline agility.

Cassian caught him immediately with a calm, confident reflex, holding him firmly against himself. He didn’t look surprised. Tariel giggled, resting his head on the mercenary’s shoulder.

“Let’s go!”

After a moment, he continued, still perched on top of Cassian:

“I love gold and jewels, too. Who knows—if I hoard enough of it, maybe I could convince the dragon to join my little army of familiars!”

He didn’t believe a word of it, of course, but the idea amused him too much not to share it. Cassian, for his part, replied with quiet amusement:

“To hoard gold, you’ll have to find treasure or get rich beyond reason. A cave full of gold coins, a hidden treasure, something like that. And if he agrees… it might be because he’s hungry. You might just lose a familiar or two.”

Tariel chuckled softly. He pictured Brynjar grumbling, completely unflappable, in the face of a hungry dragon. The image made him laugh. But something in Cassian’s words brought him back to seriousness. The mercenary’s gaze had clouded over for a moment as he was lost in his memories.

Cassian lifted Tariel a little higher on his back, making him jump slightly, as if to bring him back to the present moment.

“You’d like Drakensyl, even with the Malveth occupying it,” he said. “For your library… maybe that’s what will tip the scales. All the libraries in the kingdom have burned down.”

The elf smiled, touched by the thoughtfulness. He then ventured a question:

“I thought Drakensyl was deserted… Are there still people living there?”

“Of course,” Cassian replied. “People have never stopped fighting. There’s a resistance movement. Maybe I’ll join them. Maybe I’ll give my life for the kingdom… or for a dragon.”

Tariel pouted, nestled against the mercenary’s shoulder. He didn’t like that idea. Not at all.

He whispered against his skin, mumbling, “I don’t want you to have a better adventure with another elf… Ours is the best! Well… relatively speaking, considering how many times we’ve nearly died. But that’s what a real adventure is, isn’t it? Maybe one day, we’ll be able to tell our story.”