She awoke to a sound like the sea, and opened her eyes slowly. There was little but mist to see, but a definite feeling that she was not alone.

– Are you awake, little one? came a soft voice within her head.

"Am I alive?" she asked, bewildered.

– You are certainly not dead, came the reply, with a ripple of amusement.

"Where are you?" she asked.

– You are lying within my arms, came the answer, again amused. Look up, little one.

She looked up, seeing only a vague grey shape above her in the Mists. She had the feeling that she probably ought to have been terrified – but there was nothing in either the voice or the shape to inspire terror.

– You have trouble seeing through the Mists, he said softly. You are leaning on me; look at me closer.

She swivelled round, propping herself up on one elbow. The limb against which she had been leaning was warm, the fur on it as short and smooth as a mouse's – and dark grey. She was aware of warm amusement – friendly amusement – from the creature as it watched her; a total understanding from it of the confusion within her own mind.

She turned the other way and found herself leaning up against the creature's chest – again covered with short smooth fur – and was aware of the slow pace of its breathing and its heartbeat like the subliminal beating of a distant drum.....a distant drum?.....

– "If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music he hears, however measured or far away." Someone from your own world wrote those words, little one. It is good to remember them. Incidentally, I can Hear some – but not all – of your thoughts. Only those which will cause you no pain for me to Hear. There is an unwritten rule of ethics in empathics which limits my Hearing...as it will limit yours. Do not be afraid of me...

He lowered his head and blew softly; his breath gave the same warmth as lying in sunshine. He laid his muzzle on the opposite limb to that which she leaned on, and regarded her lazily out of the corner of his eye – the twinkle of amusement was evident. She looked at the eye.... what an amazing colour...

His laughter reached her clearly – the skin beside that massive eye crinkled.

– Not a very original reaction, little one. But I thank you.

"You're the dragon – but you're darker. I thought the dragon was silver."

– He is. My brother is silver. He is not back yet; he had... 'unfinished business', I think was his description. He will be back soon.

"What happened..."

– ... to Bobby? He is no more. There is nothing left.

"Am I in Heaven? Is he in Hell?"

– There is no 'Hell'; there is only Death. And no, little one, you are not in Heaven. You are not even dead.

"Well where the hell am I, then? Oh, sorry – "

– No need for sorry. Don't let it worry you. You are – Somewhere Else – in the Mists. You are not alone –

"That much I can see!"

– or I should say 'we' are not alone. You are never alone; you never were.

"How come you think in English?"

– I think in Voice. You Hear in English because that is how you think. If you thought in Russian you would Hear me in Russian. What you Hear is concepts which you verbalize in words with which you are familiar. For instance, if I think God, you hear 'God', because that is the word which, for you, matches the concept which I project. For me to Speak actual words to you is difficult, for then I have to translate a concept into a word which is foreign to me. It can be done.... for example, the word for God in the place to which you are going is 'Dominn' – their title of respect for an adult male or a Master or a Lord is 'Domine'; for the female equivalent 'Domina'.

The dragon paused for a few seconds, looking measuringly at her. He breathed warm air across her again. She felt something, somehow, change within her, as if the world – or worlds – had rippled around her for a few moments and then resettled.

– Incidentally, the dragon continued, you now Hear me in the language of the Children of that world. That language is now your language. The word 'Dominn' carries no implication of gender, and Dominn is the only One to whom that word is ever applied. It has no other meaning. They do not see Dominn as exclusively male, but as both male and female and everything in between...

"Is there anything in between?"

The laughter was there again. – Yes, there is everything in between. There is that which is female in every male, and there is that which is male in every female. The balances between male and female vary from each individual to the next. Those who deny any good part of themselves because it does not fit a stereotyped pattern deny also part of Dominn. In terms of gender, the best rule is: be yourself; be wholly yourself. Each of us is as Dominn intends them to be, whether male or female ... or anything in between. Today I feel mostly male – it is not always so. The strength and protection I offer you is mostly male. The healing that I offer you is mostly female. The affection that I offer you is completely friendly and gender is therefore irrelevant.

"Do you have a name? What should I call you?"

– I will Hear you by whatever name you call that fits your concept of me. However, I feel your need to attach a name to me. The concept behind my name is that of Dominn's healing. You may think of me as 'Raffi' – what you would term a 'nickname' – I am commonly called by that name among friends. The silver dragon comes ... do not be afraid of him, either.

"'Him'?"

– He is as I am; neither sex but all genders. He is usually mostly male.

"What is his name?"

– It will be easy for you to think of him as 'Gay'. Another nickname.

"'Gay' has several meanings on my world, Raffi."

The amusement was there again. – I am aware of them even as you think them. There is that meaning which means bright and colourful, cheerful, happy; joyful as in music; or that which means homosexual, or simply stupid or foolish. The meaning of his full name is that concept which encompasses the given strength of Dominn. Where I am healing, he is strength – but as I also have strength, he also has healing. Each of us – human or ... otherwise ... has gifts according to their kind. Most of us have at least some of all gifts, but our Talents and our strengths lie in different directions. As your body is comprised of hands, feet, eyes, and so on; so your self is comprised of different parts. And each self is a different part of a greater whole – the worlds need many parts of different functions even as your body does. So a healer is neither more nor less than a prophet; as a mathematician is neither more nor less than an artist ... equal, but different. All are needed.

You think of your given name as that sound which is spoken as 'Gwyn'; but your concept of yourself is not just as that sound, but of your whole self. There can be many 'Gwyns' but only one you. What is the meaning of the word 'Gwyn'?

"It's a Welsh word. Meaning white, or pale, or fair – because my hair was very fair when I was born, I think. So Mummy said, when I asked."

– And 'fair' has also more than one meaning. Fair means pale or white; or blonde; or beautiful, comely; fair is not only the opposite of dark, but also of 'unfair', 'unjust'. So the hidden concepts of your name imply that you are not only beautiful, but also just. Is this the whole of your given name?

"No. The whole of my name is Guinevere – which is really going back to the meaning of fair as pale. And my surname is Law."

– Law. Interesting. Here is Gay.

The silver dragon back-winged to a soft landing close to Raffi, stretched with an almost feline grace, yawned, and curled up, fixing his glowing gaze on them and resting his chin on the tip of his tail. A thin wisp of smoke curled from his nostrils. She was aware of the waft of warm affection for him from Raffi, and the smile.

– Very artistic, Gay. But not entirely necessary.

Gay grinned. – I'm a dragon, aren't I?

– At the moment, yes.

– Well then. Well, little one? How's your life? There was lazy laughter in his eyes as he turned them on her; she was lost in the eyes....what an ama-

– Yes, I know. Thank you. The eyelids blinked, slowly, and he cocked his head from one side to the other. The whole aura was of self-aware, self-confident amusement. You may wish to know that your Uncle Paul decided that the world was no longer big enough to hold him.

Raffi turned his head. – You didn't...

– No, I didn't. He did. He was still alive when I left. I wonder why he kept a gun in the desk?

"He killed himself?"

– To the best of my knowledge.

"Why?"

– Presumably because he knew what he had done. You feel sad?

"I don't know. I don't feel the same about him as I did about Bobby. Which is silly."

Raffi rested his muzzle on her shoulder. – Not silly. Your Uncle Paul was capable of feeling both affection and remorse. Bobby could feel neither. Yet Uncle Paul made Bobby what he was. There is weight in both sides of the balance. Dominn's Justice will prevail. As always. There is no need for you to feel any pain – you cannot forget. It is good that you have forgiven.

– Which you have, added Gay. I feel it. Always remember that it is that which has happened to you which has made you what you are. And what you are is what is needed now – but not here.

"Must I leave here – now?"

Raffi's breath came warm against her cheek. – You cannot stay with us for long. For a little while longer – which is necessary, but not for long. Your sense of loss saddens me – but I thank you for it. In one way, both Gay and I will be always with you and, in great need, can be called. Remember that, somewhere. You will remember little else of this.

There was sadness in his Voice.

– It is not forever. We will meet again, said Gay. What were you discussing? Anything interesting?

Raffi touched Gay's shoulder briefly with his muzzle.

– We were discussing the meaning of names. He turned his head back towards her. You said your other name was 'Law'.

"Yes."

Gay lifted his head from his tail, his gaze shifting from Raffi to her and back. – Hmm. Yes. Interesting, eh?

– I thought you might find it so. The given name 'Gwyn' means fair, which also ...

– Yes, I am aware.

She was aware of the mix of emotions and interests in the interplay between the two dragons. Something more here than meets the eye...

Raffi and Gay stared at her. The surprise from both of them was tangible. Then Gay laughed.

– Well, little one. You are very perceptive.

"So tell me."

Raffi blew gently on her hand. – We may not. It is not permitted at this time. What is your understanding of the concept of 'Law'?

"Law is about justice – "

Gay's laughter was convulsive. He rolled himself back onto his side, wiping a laugh-tear from the corner of his eye, and turned his ... amazing colour ... eyes on her. His nostrils quivered with suppressed amusement.

– Not generally, in my experience. Not the Law of Man, at any rate. There are more gross injustices perpetrated and upheld in the name of Law than you would believe. No, Law has often very little to do with Justice, little one. They are NOT synonymous.

She found herself grinning – Gay's laughter was infectious. Raffi's gaze radiated reassurance.

– The Law of Dominn, however, is always just. But the workings of it may seem a little obscure at times.

Gay inched his head forwards until his jaw rested over Raffi's leg and his muzzle touched her feet. His head was as long from muzzle to crown as her own body from head to feet. He kept his eyes fixed on her.

– Does our size make you uneasy, little one?

"No. I like you that size. You make me feel very safe."

– Good. So do I. And you are always safe with us.

"Would it make a difference if I didn't like you that size?"

– We do not have to be this size, said Raffi. And we are not always dragons.

"Why are you dragons now?"

– Because you have seen Gay as a dragon every time.

"Bobby saw you as a dragon..."

– Yes. But not as quite this dragon. The tip of Gay's tail twitched. I was very ... angry. His eyes clouded briefly, and he looked away. For which I have some explaining to do ... and which I regret – in part.

"Were you a dragon when you saw Uncle Paul?"

– No, not then. I appeared to him as a man.

"How do you appear as a man?"

Raffi turned her gaze away from Gay by brushing her hand with his breath. His eyes fixed hers. – little one, believe me it would not be wise for you to see Gay as a man. You find him hard to handle now – as a dragon.

"You see too much, Raffi. I was curious." She patted his nose.

His thoughts smiled at her.

– Sleep, little one. You need sleep. In your sleep you will learn...

– You will have the gifts of Voice and of Hearing, said Gay. These you will need. You have already some gift for healing. You have already the strength that will be needed, fair one. Your name means fair. There is an old name amongst the Children which also carries both meanings: of beauty and justice. Not in common use now – nor has been for an almost uncounted number of generations. Farinka. In your case Law can also mean Justice. Sleep now. Raffi will hold you...

Raffi's voice was like a whisper in her mind; – People on your world, Farinka, forget how good it is to be held... it is not so on all worlds. We feel your need to be held; sleep now... the dragon arms curled round her, his breath covering her like a warm blanket. She drifted into sleep.

Raffi lifted his gaze briefly to meet Gay's eyes.

– Better me than you, he said.

– You are right, of course. There are times I wish I were human, Raffi...

– I know. Raffi let his thoughts mingle with Gay's. She is asleep.

Gay dropped his silver muzzle, touching her gently. – She is asleep. Oh, Raffi... there are times when I need to be held, too.

– Dominn holds you always, Gay.

Gay's eyes closed briefly. – Yes. That is true.

Raffi nudged him. – You are hurting because you were angry. You were angry because you love. Love is good. Dominn understands. So do I.

– It is enough.

----