Calder and Milius strode along the winding, cobbled street for a few minutes in silence. The Elder had given Milius the chance to speak first, and he had been trying to gather his thoughts along the way, debating whether or not to mention a few of the things that he had remembered. As they walked, the people they met on the way called out to Milius, waving and beaming — the very people who had been so slow to accept him when he had been made a Knight. He tried not to feel too bitter about this, as thinking about that only further enraged him, and he had been trying to calm himself down the whole time.

But he found that he couldn't help but think about that day. He remembered it so vividly … the day that had started all of this…. An atmosphere of great tension and excitement had descended upon the entire town, as only a few weeks prior, the date of the next Knighting Ceremony had finally been announced, and the Elders were already scouting for the people whom they would hand their swords and steeds over to. A part of Milius had always known that Sirius would have been chosen — he was young, strong, fierce, and an excellent sword-fighter.

He would have been surprised if he had not been chosen, as there weren't many better candidates. And so on the morning of the Knighting Ceremony, Milius had donned his best garments and stood at his front door, waiting impatiently for his mother, so that they could go and cheer Sirius on together, as well as his as his soon-to-be allies. However, by an unfortunate series of circumstances, he had missed Sirius’s Knighting, but managed to make it just in time for Ariana’s, Shakil’s, and … his own.

It had come as quite a shock, not only to Milius himself, but to the watching crowd, the other Elders, the Knights, and even the dragons themselves when Calder had called him up to accept the mantle of Amethyst Knight, and stated that there had been no mistake. He remembered moving uncertainly through the buzzing, staring crowd, accepting Palpatunde with trembling hands, and bowing before the violet lightning dragon, and his first question sprang to his lips. A question he should have asked long ago.

“Why?” he said, more aggressively than he had intended.

“I beg your pardon,” Calder said serenely.

“I never got the chance to ask you, what with everything that's happened in the past few days, but why did you choose me to succeed you?”

“That, I cannot tell you,” the old man said simply. Milius halted abruptly, glaring at him. The rage that he had spent the better part of fifteen minutes purging came flooding back, and he opened his mouth to respond, but Calder spoke over him: “Let me rephrase. I cannot tell you that — yet.”

“Oh, a mentor keeping secrets from their student to protect them — where have I heard that before?” Milius yelled, throwing up his hands.

“Oh, no,” the old man said, “I cannot tell you, because the conditions aren't right for you to know yet. I chose you because there is something that most likely will need to be done in the future, and only you will be able to do it — and when that time comes,” he pressed on, raising his voice, for Milius was about to protest, “if it comes — which I pray it does not — you will understand why only you can do it. That is all I can tell you about that for now, but that was not the only reason.

“The blade Palpatunde is a very powerful, very dangerous thing. It takes someone of a certain mind to be able to bond with it.”

“And I have that mind?” Milius said, raising his eyebrows.

“Would you be holding that blade if you didn't? You will understand everything I told you in time, Milius, but there's no point in telling you now. There is still a chance that things may turn out differently. We have only to wait. Now,” he said, starting back along the path, and gesturing for Milius to do the same, “I doubt that that's all that was on your mind.”

“No,” Milius said. He hesitated. “You — you said you wanted to know why — why I attacked Lumeus at the Knighting Ceremony?”

“I believe I did, yes,” he said, still trudging forward.

“It —” He swallowed, then steeled his nerves, determined to make Calder understand, despite how ridiculous it might sound. “A voice told me to. Well, not explicitly. It was the first time I ever heard it, until….”

“Until?” Calder still looked unfazed, as though concerns of strange, disembodied voices were brought to him frequently.

“When we were in the forest,” Milius said, watching him closely for a reaction, “Shakil dropped Oceannerva, and caused an earthquake —”

“Ah, I always hated that ability,” Calder said, and Milius saw that his mouth had curled into a faint smile. “Go on.”

“Well, the ground started tearing up. We managed to get out of there, but we had to pass through the area to get away from a group of monsters.” He paused. Still no reaction. Milius sighed, giving up and continuing, “We jumped into one of the crevices to get away, and we landed in some kind of underground chamber —”

“Chamber?” Calder said sharply, wheeling round. “What chamber?”

“We don't really know,” Milius said, startled. “But we found … something. There was this — like — ball of energy. Ariana touched it and it exploded. Something fell out of it — like a mirror. But it was blank.”

“I see,” said Calder, who was watching Milius very closely, a steely kind of glint in his bright brown eyes. “Was there anything else?”

“Yes. There was a picture of her dragon down there, too. Vrydius, I mean….” Milius waited, but Calder did not speak. He was slowly becoming as uncomfortable as he had during his conversation with Sirius’s mentor, Demus.

“We will discuss this later, when we've met with the remaining Knights,” he said finally, his tone firm. “Anything else?”

“Yes,” Milius said. He was slightly suspicious about Calder’s abrupt change in manner, but decided to wait until later, when they were in the company of the other Knights. “About the voice. I heard it again when we landed in the chamber. It woke me up … Do you think — do you know what this voice is.”

“Yes,” Calder said, and Milius was so stunned at his answer, and the casual tone with which he delivered it, that he stopped again, his mouth hanging open.

“Well — what is it?”

Calder sighed. “That, I cannot tell you either,” he said gravely. “However, I imagine you will find out soon enough. Please, go on.”

Milius was becoming steadily more nettled. This discussion was proving completely pointless. But he continued anyway. “We met a goblin named Parluck —”

“He's still alive?” Calder said, sounding greatly surprised, starting along the path again.

“Yes. Why — is he sick, or something?”

“Not at all. I just imagined that something would have killed him by now.”

“Right. Sirius almost did … but anyway, he told us what our swords did, what my sw — what Palpatunde —”

“Call it what it is, child,” Calder said firmly. “It is yours.”

“Right. Well, we were attacked in the chamber, and it didn't work. It worked before — on Ariana, on a dragon, on a tree. What could have happened?”

“Hmmm … why, I don't know,” Calder said thoughtfully. “The swords sometimes don't function properly — or at all, in some cases — during the early phases of Knighthood. Perhaps that was what happened…? Did it work afterward?” he added.

“Yes,” he said, remembering the harpy.

“Well, there you have it!” Calder said brightly. “Now, anything more?”

“Yes,” said Milius. “I had a dream after that. I was inside a chamber, kind of like the one that we landed in when we were being chased. Something else was in it. I couldn't see what it was, but it was chained, and — and in pain….”

“Interesting…. You will learn in time, Milius, that dreams can be a bit of a — a sore spot, if you will, for Dragonknights. The swords not only link you to each other, and the dragons, but to the Knights of old. Strange things can happen because of this bond. It could have simply been a dream. Or it could have been a vision of an old Knight. This, unfortunately, I cannot assist you with. You will have to figure out what it means on your own. Now —”

“Another thing,” Milius said, now feeling quite miserable, “Lumeus — he hates me. Why?”

To his surprise, Calder smiled. “Oh, but he doesn't.”

“What?”

“It's not that he hates you, Milius, it's not even that he doesn't respect you. It's that he feels that I have disrespected him.”

“I don't understand.”

“Our dragons are a majestic, and benevolent species, Milius,” Calder said, “but they are also proud. I've told you before that past Knights have had problems with the dragons, correct?” Milius nodded. “This is true, even of our current generation — barring you, I mean. You arrived in time to see Ariana and Shakil being Knighted, I believe. Did you happen to see, by any chance, that Aleia considered Shakil for a short while, before she bowed to him?” Milius nodded once more.

“The same was true for Sirius. Verdona began to act up, when Demus selected him. If I remember correctly, I did tell you that she was rather aggressive? I was afraid that she was going to cause some damage, but Sirius, remarkably, managed to quell her. Never in my own early days, had I seen Demus exert such control over her. Lumeus is similar. He is suffering from wounded pride, I'm afraid. Whatever he was expecting as my replacement — the person who he would spend the next lifetime flying and fighting with, developing a powerfup bond of trust with — you were certainly not it.”

“Wow, thanks,” Milius said dryly.

“It is how the dragon feels, my boy, not me,” Calder said steadily. “He believes that you are … unworthy….”

“So I have to prove my worth?” Milius said. “How?”

“That is up to you. I will tell you this, however, right now is an excellent time to try.” As soon as he said this, Milius had a sudden image of Lumeus, regarding him with that curious expression about an hour ago. He considered asking Calder what he meant, then thought better of it. Most likely he would repeat the same thing he had been preaching: that it was up to him. “Now, is that all?”

“I supp —” Milius began, then he stopped himself as another thought suddenly crashed into his mind. “Wait — what exactly does Vulcatrix do?” he said.

Calder surveyed him curiously. “Vulcatrix? Well, for one thing, the blade burns with a magical heat, so intense that it allows it to cleave through just about anything, and the wounds it inflicts on living things don't heal. In fact, it's quite the opposite. It has another trick or two, I suppose. But why exactly do you want to know about Vulcatrix?”

“A theory,” Milius said. “Now that you said it, that confirms that all the other swords have multiple abilities. But so far I've only ever seen one from Palpatunde. If the other swords do, then it should have more as well, right?”

“It does.” Calder smiled. “Alas, I —”

“— can't tell me,” Milius finished bitterly. He was so tired of hearing that.

“Not at all! I won't tell you!”

“What?” Milius looked at him, and saw that his eyes weee twinkling.

“I would much rather you found out yourself. Much more fun that way, I think. Now …” His expression darkened. “Unfortunately, I have some news to deliver to you, and I think I'm quite right in believing you won't like it.”

“What?” Milius said suspiciously.

“Have you told him yet?” said Regulus’s voice. Milius had been so lost in the conversation that he hadn't noticed that the path they were taking was a familiar one. Milius looked from Calder, to Regulus, who was seated on the front steps of Milius’s home.

“Told me what?”

“Milius … you might remember I told you that the Knights would travel to the Castle after their training with us had been completed?”

“Yes?” he said, still more suspicious. “But that doesn't explain why he's here.”

“I'm here to serve you this, Milius.” Regulus got up, brandishing a piece of parchment. Milius grabbed it from him so forcefully that he nearly ripped it.

“What is this?” he growled.

“Milius, you are hereby invited to the Royal Wedding — the union of my mother, and the King of Halgaria.”