The ground beneath their feet stuttered under the tremendous weight of the beast. It was bigger than any dragon Jim had ever read about. In fact, there were times he doubted they existed at all. None had been seen for years, but the threat was enough to keep anyone from entering The Black Forest.

The dragon before them was quite real though. The creature landed on its enormous haunches and beat its thin, nearly transparent wings. The gust of wind knocked both of them backwards.

As they scrambled to their feet in terror, Emat let loose with a rasping belly laugh. “I’m sorry. HAHA. It isn’t much like me to pick on the young, but HAHAHA, I’ve heard of human’s fear of the dragon. I couldn’t help myself.”

The pair stood together frozen, unsure of what to do next. The dragon was enormous. Jim guessed it was about fifteen meters from wingtip to leathery wingtip and at least that long from head to tail. Its green scales transitioned to a browner hue to match the forest floor. The color bled upwards until the dragon’s whole body had changed. He could hear the deep rattling breaths of the creature from lungs bigger than Jim’s entire body

The dragon’s horned head hosted rows of deadly sharp teeth that seemed whitewashed against his browning scales. Folding in his wings and bowing, the creature lay completely prone and nuzzled its giant head against Emat’s side.

The old Ll’tal stumbled to the left and laughed, speaking to the dragon in the Ll’tal tongue, “Easy there, old friend. My feet don’t work as readily as they once did.”

Finally, Jim gathered the courage to speak, “Dragons? How do you… I mean what -”

“The elders among our people are tasked with caring for the guardians of the forest,” Emat began. “After middle age, our calling transitions from that of a working Ll’tal to that of an honored keeper. I myself was once a record keeper; One who chronicles the lives of those within the Emarat by depicting their achievements upon the wood.”

Jim remembered the intricate art on every dwelling they came across. As the dwelling grew and aged, so too did the painting extend in size and brilliance. Emat continued, “The elders are tasked with the care of the dragons because we possess the peace and wisdom required to tend to them. You see, dragons are… what is the word for it? Connected to soul and emotion?”

Alia found her voice, “Empathic?”

Emat replied, nodding,“Yes. Empathic. A young person is too full of worry and distraction to calm the dragon properly.”

As Emat spoke, Jim could see the red eyes of the dragon darting between him and Alia. The creature shifted uncomfortably, but Emat laid a hand on the beast and whispered, again in his native language, “All is well, my old friend. These are not our enemies.”

He drew closer to the dragon and whispered something else too quiet for them to hear. The creature grunted once and extended its enormous wings. With one quick motion, it was airborne, and Jim found himself on his back from a new gust of wind. The dragon shrieked before disappearing into the canopy above.

Emat chuckled and spewed a new round of coughing, “Don’t worry my young friend. It does get easier. You must learn how to plant yourself. For now though, let us eat and speak. I’m sure you two are quite hungry.”

Jim’s stomach wouldn’t argue with that.

***

Sounds of night filled the warm dwelling. Sitting on overstuffed mats of pine needles protected in layers of wool, Alia and Jim devoured their helping of Osage fruit and venison. They had been rationing their dwindling supplies for days and were more than pleased to eat a full meal again. Emat sat across the fire, smiling at them as he watched.

The fire danced upon his yellow eyes. Jim was pretty sure Emat was purring. Maybe I’m imagining it. After a few minutes of voracious eating, the two of them relaxed on their mats.

Seeing his opportunity, Emat began, “I’m sure we both have many questions so, ask!”

After the events of that morning and of course - the dragon, Alia had a shopping list of questions. “First of all, who… rather, what are you?” Emat chuckled and followed it up with his customary fit of coughing.

In that moment, he looked twenty years older. “My child, we are called the Ll’tal, as you no doubt know by now. My people have lived, in secret, throughout the Black Forest since The Fall.”

She stared blankly. Emat asked, worried, “Surely, you know of The Fall?”

Alia crossed her arms, “Sorry, Emat. History’s never been my strong suit. Please, enlighten me.”

Emat’s voice changed as he began to tell the story as if he had done this many times before, “Nearly ten thousand years ago, our world was born. From the dirt, the gods gave mankind soil. From the rust, the gods gave us metal. From the water, they gave us life. For a time, Ruin was a paradise by a name now lost to time. Mankind had everything they needed, however, they still chose to reject their makers. Inherently suspicious and filled with a lust for power, evil men plotted the destruction of the gods.”

“From the metals, gifted by the gods themselves, mankind forged terrible machines of smoke and ruin. They warred with the creators… and lost. As punishment for their arrogance, their paradise was sundered. For years, our world burned. The machinations were destroyed, and the survivors were left to fight over what little remained of their ruined paradise.”

Alia held up a hand, “I’m sorry, Emat, but I was expecting something more than a creation myth. I mean, the religions of old are all but extinct. Do you have anything more… factual?”

If Emat took offense, it didn’t show. He glanced at Jim who could only shrug. Smiling, Emat asked, “May I finish my story?”

Alia laid down on her mat with her hands behind her head. She let out a satisfied sigh, “You know what? After a meal like that, you could tell me pretty much anything, and I’d probably believe it… on principle.”

Emat continued, “It was in those days the gods created The People. The Ll’tal. Mankind failed to value paradise the first time, so the Ll’tal were born to protect the next one.”

Alia shifted on her mat. Turning her head sideways, she asked, “Second paradise? I heard plenty of creation stories when I was a kid. They had the same general concepts. But second paradise? That’s a new one.”

Emat sighed, “Yes, how tragic that your people have forgotten so many of the stories. You see, the gods were not without forgiveness. They offered the humans a second chance at redemption.”

From one corner, the sound of snoring interrupted them. Alia apologized while stifling a giggle, “I’m sorry, Emat. Sometimes I think that man has a singular love in life; the inside of his eyelids.”

A new bout of coughing laughter overtook Emat. “All is forgiven, my child. No doubt he’s exhausted. The transference can be draining the first time.”

He began again, “Where was I? Ahh yes, second chances. You see, young Alia, our world is experiencing a great awakening. Every day, more and more of you are found to be worthy of the Maal power. You and Jim have unlocked the beginning of the potential within yourselves.”

His voice changed back to that of an ancient storyteller,

“When the witch is banished and elements freed.

When two great warriors plant a seed.

The floodgates open. The world begins.

Our chains are broken.

The darkness ends.

Through loss and sorrow, guilt and pain.

A long lost soul returns again.”

Alia shook her head. “Yep, sounds like a prophecy to me. Completely vague and open to interpretation.”

Emat’s sharp teeth poked through another grin, “Perhaps, but The People have studied this prophesy for a very long time. We have had thousands of years to understand and… prepare for it.”

“Prepare how?”

“You see, we know of the seed. You know of the witch. And, most importantly, the great warriors have come at last.”

“You don’t mean -”

“Yes Alia. You two are those warriors. The prophecy begins.”

***

Jim’s eyes opened reluctantly as a ray of sunlight grazed his face. To his surprise, Alia still lay next to the ashen fire pit, fast asleep. Taking a moment to shake the fog of morning out of his head, he glanced toward Emat’s empty mat. Eight hundred years old and still up at the crack of dawn. Ugh.

He stepped gingerly out of the shelter, careful not to wake Alia. Outside, his senses were met with the smell of eggs, bacon, spices, and smoke. Sheltering his eyes from the rising sun, he spotted Emat, bent over a crude stone saucepan, mixing what was undoubtedly some kind of omelette within.

“Good morning. I guess I must have fallen asleep last night.”, Jim started.

Jim’s face blushed, but Emat forgave the offense with a wave of his claw. “I’m sure your mate will catch you up on the discussion.”

Jim shook his head. “I told you, she’s not my m-”

“I have eggs here. No doubt hard to find in the far reaches of your homeland.” And he was right. Eggs and meat were luxury commodities available only to the wealthy. He certainly didn’t qualify. Emat could see Jim’s look of longing.

Stirring the eggs again, he inquired, “I would like to ask a favor of you if I may.” Emat seemed unsure of himself.

Jim had not seen this side of the old Ll’tal. Nodding, he said, “Of course, Emat.”

“During the transference, I only unlocked the secrets of your language. We are forbidden from taking information from others without their consent. Now that our first merging has passed, I wish to do it once more before you depart.”

Jim furrowed his brow. “Depart? What makes you so sure we’re leaving so soon?”

At that, Emat coughed another pained laugh. “Your mate; she couldn’t tolerate more than a single night in the same place.”

Jim sighed, “On that, we agree.” This time, Jim had failed to correct Emat’s referring to Alia as his mate. He wasn’t sure why.

Emat dug through his small leather bag and produced the same smooth green stone from the day before . “With your permission, I will begin the transference. I would like to learn your history so that we may one day tell your story upon our great trees.”

Although the transference had been painless and benign, mentally speaking, the thought of sharing parts of his past set Jim on edge. He’d already broken his own rules by spilling his heart to Alia, and the anxiety still plagued him.

Seeing Jim’s face, Emat smiled gently, “We all have painful or secret moments within us, child. The transference does not uncover such things without your permission. Think of it as a very deep conversation. Even in friendly conversation, one does not share everything.”

Jim considered it another moment and nodded. Placing his hand on the green stone, he exhaled as his world once again dissolved to white.

There was Emat again. Young and healthy. One thing, his eyes - remained unchanged though. Those eyes.

“These eyes indeed, young one. They have seen much.”

Jim blushed, “I forgot about the sharing of thoughts. Sorry about that.”

Emat laughed. This time, there was no coughing or expression of pain. He was young here. “There is nothing to be sorry for. My people have a saying. ‘The eyes are timeless.’ Wouldn’t you agree?”

Jim smiled, “My people also have a saying. ‘The eyes are the window to the soul’.”

Looking Jim in the eyes, Emat smiled. “Yours hold much pain but much greater nobility. There is a fantastic future for you just over the horizon. Are you ready?”

Jim nodded and suddenly, his world was a vibrant mural of thousands… millions of memories.

He was five again.

“Papa, mama, can I show the model to my friends?”

“Of course, son, but please be careful. That has real pushstone in it. If you let go of it, the breeze may take it from you forever.”

“Jim, are you sure he’s old enough to-”

The memory swirled into nothingness as he landed a few years later in another.

You may never forgive me, young Ra’id, but I must go. They’ve attempted to take your mother, but truly, they come for me. Your life will be wrought with pain, but -

The memory faded. Jim’s face was ashen. “I’d forgotten. My parents named me Ra’id. That was the day my father -” The next memory surfaced.

“Disgusting cockroach 'Iizalatan. If my father had his way, you would all be in chains.”

A thirteen year old Jim stood with balled fists and bloody mouth as a group of shorter but much better fed boys surrounded him.

“He’s still standing, guys. Let’s fix that -”

Mercifully, the memory dissolved.

Then, he was seventeen, unloading cargo from the docks of Dyelita. The sun had already darkened his natural bronze face to coffee brown.

Now, he was a few years older. The young man he once was tiptoed around the last tie off. Releasing the rope, he leapt onto the floating boat as it hovered above the cool sand. Finally, he would escape the city and live his own life. From the docks, a soldier cried out in alarm -

The years continued to pass. His stolen ship grew more dilapidated with each passing memory. Brushes with death, rare moments of peace, the constant hunger.

Finally, at thirty, he had reached the end. His dehydrated body slid clumsily around the rocks as he moved to investigate the overturned landship -

The events on the Liberator, Rock Bottom, the dive into hell. All played out. Again, he relived the painful emotion of seeing his friends destroyed. It felt as if he had experienced hours and yet, he knew it had only been a few seconds.

Then, it was over. Again, Emat stood before him in a sea of white. His face was beaming. Jim couldn’t help but feel a little annoyed. “I don’t see what you have to smile about. As you can see, life for me has been one big disaster after another.”

The young Emat laughed, “I’m sorry. I do not laugh for your losses, but rather for the tremendous victory before you.” Jim squinted his eyes, confused.

Emat’s smile brightened even more. “Dearest child, fate has finally handed you a great victory. You see, your friends, the ones in your memories? They are alive!”