He lay prostrate in prayer, blocking out the pain and confusion trapping him in this place. It whirled around him like a dust devil biting and burning and screaming a name he did not know. He did not believe that the god his parents worshiped, and his ancestors had brought with them, could really hear him but he hoped in his dire hour of need that it would.

Then the devil was made still. He looked to see a very dark figure, and it touched his head as he moved his legs under him.

"Allah" he whispered to the figure and then bent his head again.

"No, Itzal, and you do not owe me prayer, or awe." The figure had no discernable face.

"You are a God?" he asked.

"Yes, Aydahar, I am. Not your God, but a god." The figure sounded like it smiled and he shivered at the thought.

"You carry a soul that needs you to remember" Itzal reached out and touched the devil and it flickered and became a man with a silver tint to his skin, and bright white hair. The shadow of a great dragon loomed behind him.

"I remember the pain, the burning. I can't do that again." Aydahar trembled in fear of feeling it.

"Because you fight your memories of being Hima, of him." Itzal motioned towards the silver man.

"So I am fighting myself?" He asked looking at the man before him.

"Exactly." Itzal took his hand and placed it on Hima's chest, "Feel the beat of his heart, the vibration of his soul, it is yours."

"This can't be real." He shook his head. He heard Itzal sigh. Aydahar closed his eyes and felt Hima's heartbeat, and it beat in rhythm with his own.

"I accept you Hima," Aydahar opened his eyes and saw Hima blur and move into him. He felt whole, without pain. He remembered everything.

"You are with people who can help you. And you need to help them." These were the last words he heard from Itzal, "They have your descendant, the girl of prophecy."

Aydahar shook himself awake and took the poultice from his face. He sat up and looked around. He thought he saw smoke going under his door. He shook his head and looked again. There was nothing there. His muscles were sore but nothing was seriously wrong. He got up and stumbled to the bathroom. He ran water over his face. He barely remembered the fit that had been responsible for him being taken to the healer. He took a towel and dried his face. His olive skin and dark hair reflected back at him in the mirror. He motioned his hand across it and whispered 'Jani'.

"Ayda!" His mother said happily.

"Anam!" he said equally as happy then his dad appeared,"Ake!"

"We are so glad to see you are ok," His mother smiled and he smiled in return.

"I am fine. I am not at the college anymore. It's hard to explain," Aydahar grimaced. His parents did not believe in reincarnation. He could think of no way he could make them see that he was a reincarnated Dragon soul.

"Will you be returning to school?" His father asked.

"I don't know yet," He could tell that his father was angry with him. Then he heard a soft knock at the door.

"Ake, Anam I have to go," he said to them, "I love you both."

Aydahar waved the mirror and saw once again his own reflection. He exited the bathroom and walked up to the door to open it. Before he could it creaked open just enough for a black sharply chiseled face with silver eyes to peer through.

"Good, you seem to have regained your senses." The man looked relieved. He entered the room and shut the door behind him.

"I have," He answered. His memories of knowing this onyx man began to surface, "Dragonis?"

"Yes! Hima?" Dragonis tentatively asked.

"Yes and no," He shook his head not sure how to explain, "I am still Aydahar. Hima and his memories are now a part of me."

"You have integrated then?" Dragonis looked at him in a curious manner.

"For lack of a better word, yes," Ayda said

"So these memories, can you recall all of them, even the unpleasant ones?" Dragonis looked at him in an appraising manner.

"There is still a lot I have not tried. Is there a particular memory?" Ayda was wondering exactly what Dragonis was after.

"Do you remember the god of death?" Dragonis asked.

"That is a very good question," Aydahar said, "Yes, for the most part. Though he did not present himself as a god at first."

"How did he capture you?" Dragonis was intensely curious. It showed in every muscle as he sat on the bed and leaned forward. Aydahar sat in the chair across from the bed.

"My daughter had gone missing, as you probably remember, he claimed he could take me to her,"Aydahar was suddenly sad, "Did anyone ever find her?"

"Yes, after she had her child, she fought with us in the war. Her rage was truly a beautiful sight," Dragonis seemed wistful for a moment, "After the war she retired to the north in the mountains."

"I am grateful for the news my friend," Aydahar felt his heart and shoulders grow lighter with the knowledge.

"So, it was this god of death that possesses your body and not Itzal?" Dragonis looked hopeful for a confirmation.

"Itzal? No. He helped make me whole in this body. The god of death, he took a different name. A dragon's name," Aydahar felt disgusted at all the profane things this god had done, "Nidhuggr."

"The earth dragon god?" Dragonis looked impressed. Aydahar nodded his silent affirmation.

"Could we do a location spell to find your body?" Dragonis was looking eager to start something.

"We can but he could easily move on after that, he would feel it too," Aydahar gathered his breath and his mind, "I think we need to help the girl ready herself for her battles ahead first."

"I must inform the others, with exception to Aulder," Dragonis stood up.

"Aulder? Couldn't they help us, though?" Aydahar was curious about this development.

"There are circumstances that would prevent me from petitioning them for help," Dragonis said as he left the room, closing the door.

Aydahar resettled on the bed. He began a meditation that Hima ...he would do quite often to balance his body and soul. He was a bit shocked to be able to feel just the tiniest connection with his long-lost dragon body. He concentrated on that sliver of feeling, and it began to burn. The magic used to inhabit his body vibrated at an opposite frequency to his own. The feeling was a most violent jarring of a magic collision. He felt a pain in his head and he clutched it and stumbled to the bathroom. He ran water over his face again to clear his mind. He looked into the mirror and saw very silver strands of hair threading its way through the black on his head. it wasn't a lot, but it was noticeable. He sighed. He had forgotten to ask where he could get some dinner. As if on cue his stomach growled loudly. He decided that he would head into the hallway and ask the first servant for directions.

Sorry about posting late again. Had severe allergy pop up. Still recovering. Thank you for your understanding, and I hope you enjoy.