What a waste, old man, Onda grumbled. Why trash all that wicked stuff?

“Because it’s wicked,” Dallion replied as he climbed up the staircase. Not his best comeback, but at this point, he didn’t particularly care. Part of him still felt regret at not borrowing a device or two, but the recent experience in his realm had made him cautious. Also, there was the matter of the fate that had befallen everyone who had dealt with the Star’s tech. At this point, it was better to be overcautious than to suffer the Moons’ wrath. “There’ll be time for that.”

There was one thing he had kept. After Gleam had sliced up everything in the room that could be sliced, Dallion considered leaving the pocketknife behind. It served no particular purpose. At the same time, it was a memory of earth, and also a reminder of how easy it was to have a realm invaded. Ultimately, he had kept it as a reminder, although he didn’t plan on duplicating it or linking it to his realm. It was going to remain an ordinary trinket, empty and bare, its destiny fulfilled.

There were no further surprises going up the tower. Onda had insisted that Dallion check the other towers, in case of other hidden rooms, but was soundly ignored. While Dallion wanted to be thorough in case of a way to level up his familiars, his other main goal was to reach the top of the towers. Now that he was so close, any low reward detours weren’t useful.

According to the seagulls, there was a large creature’s nest near the towers. Since nothing was obvious from the ground, Dallion could assume that it would be visible from the sky. Of course, he had one further suspicion.

“Feeling better, Gleam?” he asked.

A bit, she replied. Cutting up paper didn’t make up for it.

Dallion smiled. She felt better, and he knew it. It wasn’t about the paper being shredded in real life, it was the thoughts of the Star being turned to slivers.

Was that a stupid thing to do? Dallion asked himself. In all likelihood, that was going to be a question that would stay with him for a long while.

A thick locked door blocked the way to the rooftop. A few strikes with the Nox dagger were all it took to break it open, letting the sunrays flood down. The bright light blinded Dallion for a fraction of a second, but when his eyes adjusted, he was able to see a sight reserved for the flying. The towers went so high up that they created the illusion that he had stepped in a cloud.

“Jiroh would have liked this,” Dallion said, admiring the vista. Come to think of it, Eury would have as well. Well, possibly less so because of the such and scorching heat. That were two of the things that gorgons didn’t get along with. “Lux, any idea where—”

Dallion stopped, sensing a gentle tap on his shoulder. Gleam had moved the whip blade closer, interrupting him with the end of the hilt. He could tell that she was alarmed. More than that—she was ready for a fight.

There’s an illusion, Gleam said.

“Where?”

Everywhere. The nest isn’t down there, it’s up here.

Raising up, the whip blade extended, forming an arc around the three towers. Before Dallion’s very eyes, a vast nest filled up the space, a nest made of tree trunks instead of twigs. It had to be at least five hundred feet in diameter, holding a single vast, giant creature of incredible size. And the scariest part of all, the “shineys'' the seagulls had spoken of weren’t coins or small trinkets. They were full sets of armor with the skeletal bodies still inside.

In a fraction of a second, the massive creature’s tail split into a hundred instances, each slamming down on Dallion’s position. Escape was impossible. Neither Dallion’s speed nor his mind capacity was in condition to evade the attack. His mind frantically churned ideas as the massive tail fell onto him, and in the very last moment, it came up with one. Fractions of a second before he was crushed, Dallion raised his hand, striking the tail. The action was nowhere nearly as strong to block such a monstrosity, however, they did allow one course of action.

PERSONAL AWAKENING REALM INVASION

In a flash Dallion’s surroundings changed. The dragon, however, didn’t. It was no longer located on a nest of tree trunks atop three towers, but rather on a vast cliff, but its size, appearance, and even position.

You are in the realm of DERRION

DERRION is level 92

Once in the realm, Lux instantly enveloped Dallion with flames, thrusting him to the side before the gigantic tail slammed into the spot he had been standing on.

The experience caused Dallion to go through momentary nausea, but it was quick to pass.

“You entered my realm,” the dragon’s voice boomed as it curled its tail beneath it. “What a pest.”

Dallion felt like a mouse approaching a lazy cat. The attack that would have killed him—that still had the potential to do so in the real world—was not done out of fear or acknowledgement. It was done because the creature was annoyed at the disturbance. Clearly, fighting real dragons was very different from facing its shadow. And still, Katka had managed to defeat it with such apparent ease.

Trees grew up from under the dragon, turning the nest it was lying on around. A single giant eye opened from the resting head to take a better look at the “nuisance.”

“Empathy,” the dragon noted. “But no magic to speak of. You must have a death wish to challenge me.”

Dallion swallowed. Putting it that way, he had to agree. Also, try as he might, he couldn’t see anything relating to the dragon other than its name.

“I didn’t come to challenge you,” Dallion said. “I just came to…” he paused. What was he supposed to say? That he was here to save it, after it had the power to squish him like a gnat?

“To what?” The eye closed. “Thousands have sought me out throughout the millennia. They had shiny toys, impressive powers, even magic. All of them wanted a part of me. Why should you be different, hunter?”

“I’m here on Felygn’s behalf.”

The name caused the dragon to stir. Reluctantly, it opened both eyes, adjusting its head so as to get a better look at the human. Dallion concentrated in an attempt to use his music skills, but no blobs of emotion became visible within the creature’s body.

“You’ve got interesting guardians,” the dragon noted. “Very interesting. Two actively helped in the attempts to take over the world.” Its eyes narrowed. “And have done other things as well. But it seems they are bound to you. Did they tell you to invade my realm?”

“No, I thought of that on my own. It was the only way to talk to you.” Before I got crushed, Dallion added mentally. He suspected that the dragon had the ability to see lies, so it was better if he avoided telling any.

“They must think very highly of you, even if you’re from another world. Many of your kind tried to hunt me down as well.”

“The Star?” Dallion asked.

“They have different names and causes,” the dragon snorted. “I’ve lost track. It doesn’t matter, anyway. Being killed for one reason is no better than being killed by another. You even have a mage with you. It’s amusing how much he tries to hide from me.”

I knew it! Dallion thought.

There could be no longer any doubt that Nil—or rather Netiello Adzorg—was, in fact, a mage, or rather had been at some point. Dallion had suspected ever since the echo had helped him return from the world of furies, but now he had undeniable proof.

“You say you don’t want to kill me?” the dragon asked.

“I was told to—” Dallion swallowed “—rescue you. By the Green Moon,” he quickly added.

“The Green Moon made you vow to rescue me?” The dragon snorted steam from his nostrils. Unexpectedly, it smelled of springtime. “That’s amusing. You’re not lying, but I know that’s not true either.”

Blossoms sprouted on all the trees within the realm, continuing on the horizon. It was impossible to tell whether that was a good sign, or the dragon wanted the air to be fresh because of Dallion’s presence.

“You’re not the dragonlet?” Dallion asked.

“No one has called me a dragonlet for a very long time. But I see your confusion. Not that it will save you.”

Crap! Dallion thought. I’ve come to the wrong dragon.

When the Moon had told him to save the creature, there was no mention from what. It was looking very likely that the task was to save the dragonlet from the actual dragon and announcing that in the open had the opposite effect of what Dallion intended it to have.

“You don’t have what it takes to save any of the dragonlets. Maybe if you had magic, things would be different, but not at the moment.”

“I know music!” Dallion didn’t give up. “And zoology.”

“I can see all the skills you have, and their levels,” the dragon said in an amused tone. “Your achievements, your guardians and familiars, as well as their skills and levels. If they hadn’t been banished, things might have been different.” The dragon snorted again.

Any suggestions, mage? Dallion asked.

Fighting dragons isn’t exactly my specialty, dear boy, the echo replied. I would have advised you not to do it, but at this point, I fear it might be a bit too late.

Is there anything I could do to have a chance?

Against this one? Frankly, no, I don’t see one. On the bright side, it hasn’t killed you yet.

That’s the bright side?!

It could have done that at any point it wanted. And still, it chose not to.

That was right. The dragon hadn’t made a single attempt to attack since Dallion had entered the realm. Considering how it reacted to annoyances, there had to be a reason for that.

“You’re an empath dragon,” Dallion said. “And a favored of Felygn.”

“Good guess, but no. I traded that away. Just like you did.”

Like I did?

“Yes. I can see what you had to give up and why. So did I.”

Nil, what does he mean?

Magic creatures don’t have offspring, the armadil shield interrupted. Their power is too great to pass on, so the Moons forbade them from recreating. The only way to break the limitation is through the Moons’ permission, and as with everything in this world, the Moons’ permission has to be earned.

That sounded like a reason for him to have been spared for so long. However, Dallion still felt there was more to the story than that. It felt like the edge of an iceberg hiding beneath the surface.

How do I use empathy to look into the dragon’s memory? Dallion asked.

You no longer have to, the armadil shield replied.

“Interesting story.” The dragon raised its head. For the first time since Dallion had approached, it deemed him significant enough to move. “Felygn always had a peculiar sense of humor. To think he’d ask you to make that promise when you were but a speck of dust. No matter, a vow is a vow. I won’t make it easy for you, though.”

Dallion felt a sense of hope. If the dragon claimed it wasn’t going to be easy, that meant he was going to be given a chance.

“There are seven dragonlets in my realm,” the dragon said. “Convince one to leave with you using any means, and I’ll grant you your request.” It lay back down, curling up like a giant scaly cat. “You can try for as long as you like. I won’t have anything against it. The moment you leave the realm, though, it’s over.”

“You’re not blocking me from leaving?” Dallion hesitated. “Or doing anything to your realm?”

“Neither will harm me. Besides, I know you won’t abuse your welcome. We follow the same path, after all.”