All was silence.
Aiovel may have believed her actions had been foolish, but strangely, Gil understood why she had done what she did— he had waited to hear the same from Vaelcruithir: an admission of guilt, some explanation, or perhaps a trace of repentance— aside from death, it was the only thing that would end Aiovel's pain.
So, even when Aiovel had planned her vengeance, she could not destroy Galadon without hearing it first.
"Your concern has truly touched me." Galadon said at last, then sighed regretfully. "This is a revelation to me. I cannot help but come to the conclusion that—well, I may have been in error about your father." Galadon admitted solemnly. "If I can believe that there are others like you among the Dragorian kind, then I— perhaps not all dragons are as contemptible as Scathaechir. It may be worthwhile reconsidering my judgment of them."
Lilia's jaw dropped. Ronan and Mygdewyn wore skeptical expressions.
"Yet you associate with Scathaechir." Gil reminded him quickly.
"Yes," Galadon nodded, turning to Gil. "I have dealings with Scathaechir and Rilath, but that doesn't mean much. The occasional planned ransacking keeps the dragons from attacking my cities unannounced. One must keep the greater good in mind."
"My father King Derias would never negotiate his people's safety that way!" Dylan blurted.
"Oh?" Galadon said, arching a brow. "But you have never been a king, have you?" He said solemnly. "You will see what you will be willing to do, when you are responsible for thousands of lives. But Aiovel, I cannot describe how I feel to know that you of all people could forgive me for the personal wrongs that I've done to you." Galadon said, shaking his head. "In truth, I admit I have regretted what happened to your mother every day throughout these many long years. I loved her sincerely and could not stop loving her, even when I had consoled myself that she had betrayed our mother's kingdom. I never intended that she should die, or to destroy Argolen." He sighed regretfully. "It was a terrible accident, you see. Scathaechir and his army refused to obey my order to retreat that day when Argolen fell. Since then, ours has been a tenous alliance, yet I have used him as a means to an end, as you said. Channelling a dangerous force is much safer than letting it out of one's control, yet I believe we shall never again be allies.
"Back then, all I could think about was keeping our mother's kingdom from Dragoras' hands—and from yours." He added. "I thought all of the creatures that came through the magic gate wanted to steal our land, and I was convinced only we Silver Elves were creatures of honor and worth. Now when I look at you, Aiovel, and your loyal companions, I see how wrong I was."
Aiovel smiled faintly.
"Don't listen to him!" Dylan exclaimed. "He'd say anything now that we have him outnumbered!"
"I assure you I mean what I say." Galadon countered staunchly.
Dylan didn't care. So what if Galadon now had a change of heart— if Aiovel was going to die!
"But you became far worse than you ever thought Dragoras was!" Dylan protested. "Don't forgive him, Aiovel!" he urged. Dylan took a step forward, drawing his sword.
"Stop it!" Aiovel cried. Dylan obliged reluctantly, glaring hotly at the Dark Wizard.
"Yes, I did," Galadon admitted. "But is what I did any worse than the treachery of your human kings when a crown is at stake?"
Dylan flinched. Galadon had a point, though he didn't like to admit it; even Dunlaith's history was full of violent usurpers to the throne.
"Tell me, young prince, is it true that you humans have no desire to be upraised beyond your present state?" Galadon asked. "Can it be that you would rather live in ignorance, though I would have offered you a better civilization, as long as you are free?"
"Don't tell me you weren't planning on conquering the West with your armies," Dylan said, dubious.
"Conquering?" Galadon echoed. "No. At least, not as I saw it. I admit I felt that the land belonged to me, but I thought of my armies as more of a liberating force than a conquering one. I had planned to re-create the glory of our ancient cities and unite the West. But now, I see my efforts were wasted on you. I suppose your petty kingdoms would rather squabble amongst each other."
"You're right, we would." Dylan retorted.
Gil suddenly noticed Calatin watching Galadon, a twinkle in his eye. Galadon turned to the wizard, following Gil's glance.
"You!" Galadon exclaimed. "You came all this way, wizard— so why have you not attempted to destroy me?" Galadon demanded.
"You know why." Calatin said, narrowing his eyes. "If I should destroy you for your greed, I would have to be fair and go on a campaign across Vilna and through the magic gate and punish every trader from here to Europa. Yes, I believe it would be safe to say that a fair number of others would share your fate, myself included. No, I am content merely to keep you from destroying the lives of others. And I spare you because I am hoping you will make the decision that may, in part, redeem some of your past misdeeds."
After a moment, Galadon nodded, as though accepting the wizard's terms, then abruptly knelt beside Aiovel. Gil heard a loud pop in the air as blue flames burst to life from the ground, curling upward to encircle the elf wizard; the magical fire coalesced around Galadon, wrapping him in a bright sheet of light. As Galadon intoned his final spell, ancient words flowed from his mouth like an unending river.
"Hold," Calatin said to Gil, who leaned forward protectively, fearing the worst. "He is the only one who can heal her from the death curse, since he created the wand that Dylan used."
Gil recoiled in shock.
"Yeah, so?" Dylan said, irritated at being reminded that he had thrown the curse at Aiovel. "She wouldn't be dying if it weren't for him."
"If Aiovel can forgive him, why can't you?" Calatin demanded gruffly.
Dylan hesitated.
"And consider this," Calatin resumed, "the death curse is a powerful spell, almost irreversible once it takes effect, and even more potent this close to the source of its power. To heal her Galadon will exhaust his own magic. Is that not a good beginning for his punishment?" Calatin added. "For a Prince of Elves to be left a magician of limited ability— a trickster? It is no small sacrifice. Galadon was one of the greatest elf wizards who ever lived. However, now his powers are exhausted, and only time will tell if he is ever to regain them."
Dylan stopped, afflicted by a surge of conscience. If he himself had been as powerful a wizard, would he have sacrificed that power for anything? he wondered.
"But—he would have enslaved my kingdom!" Dylan protested, though less staunchly, now that there wasn't even a remote possibility of that happening. But no matter what was said, it was going to take a while before Dylan started trusting Galadon.
"I see what's bothering you, young prince. Perhaps I did change my position in a moment of weakness." Galadon admitted, rising. "In such a case, it would be the only logical thing to do, when one is on the losing side." He shrugged. "But in truth, in some way I feel a great relief to put aside this ancient grudge that has entrenched all of my thoughts for so long. I could never accept that the world had changed, but now that I have at last, I see my folly. My dreams of restoring the West to its former glory could never be; they were also misguided dreams. I see I shall have to be content that at least my mother's Living Palace still stands in the Elwellyn Forest. With Aiovel's leave, perhaps I shall go there again some day—and perhaps content myself with restoring Argolen."
Gil stared at Galadon, wanting to believe what the reformed Dark Wizard said. The elf retained his former cool composure and reasonability; yet there was no mistaking the sincerity in his eyes. Against his own expectations, Gil found himself beginning to like him.
Aiovel stirred and tried to stand; Galanor rushed forward to help her up, relieved that she had recovered.
As the companions embraced in turn, a strange charge of electr
icity crackled in the still air, and Gil shivered involuntarily.
"What was that?" He ventured, wondering if the others had felt it.
"The balance of chaos and order has been disrupted," Calatin replied. "Or re-balanced, as it were. You could say this resolution was long overdue." He smiled. "What you felt, Gil, was the dispersal of Galadon's ancient powers. However, I fear that the evil once concentrated in him— if indeed you can call it that, will soon be swept across Arcaendria. And the magical boundary has long been waning. Monsters and the cursed dragons will be able to pass into the West some day. No doubt, there will be trying times ahead for many of the kingdoms of our world. But they have buried their heads in the sand for too long."
Gil shivered. If that were true, what would happen to Gyfen? He wondered, when Myrddin suddenly returned.
"Ho, there!" Myrddin called, appearing from thin air in the chamber with the Dragorian King Alator, several of the King's advisors, and Alator's daughter, Nynnia. Lilia's eyes widened in excitement at the sight of the finely-dressed Dragorian court.
The Dragorian faithful ran the gamut of dragon varieties— there was even a fine-looking, dark-haired Dragorian among them, a descendant of the city's denizens from the days before the sundering of the races! So, not all of the Black Dragons had been in the plot to kill Dragoras. Though admittedly, the faithful Black Dragons were likely to be few in number.
But, as she expected, Alator's motley assembly was mostly a mixture of Gold and Silver Dragorians.
**Galanor spoke the truth!** Alator exclaimed, his eyes falling on Aiovel. **The daughter of Dragoras still lives!** As he spoke, his eyes flitted warily to Galadon, who stood among the companions without attacking them!
Alator stared for a moment between Aiovel and Galadon, but no one moved to attack Galadon. Alator and his company continued to stare.
Meanwhile, Lilia shouldered up beside Galanor and nudged him, whispering a request for a translation.
**Thanks to my uncle, Galadon.** Aiovel said. **He saved my life.**
Alator and his company appeared stunned by this news.
**It's true,** Calatin agreed, surprising Gil with his ability to speak Dragorian.
**But, Galadon was the betrayer—** Alator objected strongly. Several of his advisors began to whisper in disquieted tones.
**Perhaps. But will you deny him a chance for redemption?** Calatin said, narrowing his keen blue eyes. **Galadon's plot against Dragoras would never have succeeded if there wasn't also some vice in the hearts of dragonkind.**
**You speak well in his defense, wizard.** Alator said judiciously. **But that is beside the point. I will not deny Galadon a second chance to live honorably, but only because the daughter of Dragoras wills it.**
**I do,** Aiovel nodded. **For reasons which I will impart to you once we have all had a chance to recuperate from this day's battles.**
**But as Aiovel no doubt wills it, Galadon must atone for his hand in Dragoras' death.** Alator added warningly. **And give up his reign here in the East. As part of his penance for the lives lost in the sieges on Argolen and Dragoras, he must also be charged with protecting the East from Rilath and our cursed dragon relations, and that he shall serve the people of this land, the humans he once hated, in any other time of need such as might arise.**
**Well spoken,** Calatin said, nodding agreement. Protecting the East was going to be difficult— and dangerous, considering that there was bound to be no love lost between the Fire Dragons and their former master.
Aiovel turned to Galadon to see if he agreed to the terms.
**I am gratified by your leniency, and by Aiovel's faith in me,** Galadon said graciously. **In return for that, I do willingly give up my rule and pledge to do what I can to restore the East, and all Dragoras.**
That word came so easily from the reformed Dark Wizard!
**Aiovel,** Alator said solemnly, **now that you have returned to us, it is my duty to step aside for you as the rightful ruler— and to ask you to come and lead us.** He added dutifully, though he seemed sad to do it.
Slowly, Aiovel shook her head. **No, King Alator. The rightful ruler of our Dragorian people is the one who will do the best job. I have already one kingdom to maintain, and that is enough. But perhaps I will come to Dragoras for a visit someday.** She added, with a smile.
Alator nodded, drawing himself up in regal manner again. **We will look forward to your arrival. All of Daegoras will rejoice at the return of Queen Aiovel to us.** He said solemnly and blinked, teary-eyed.
**And Galanor is welcome, too,** Nynnia put in. **Just as long as he remembers to keep himself properly attired.** She laughed. Galanor cracked a smile, and Aiovel turned to the Ice Dragon, her eyebrows raised in curiosity.
"Do you get the feeling we're missing out on something?" Ronan whispered to Mygdewyn.
"Don't we always?" the dwarf sniffed.
* * * * *
Gil awoke at dawn. By the time the companions made it down for breakfast, the travelers' inn bustled with news that the former Dark Wizard had gone; already there was a great stir about who was going to replace him. But the town mayor had taken the reins temporarily and sent word to the south lands that the Dark Wizard had been overthrown.
Meanwhile, an heir of the line of the ancient kings of Gildorland was being considered to rule the kingdom; the only problem was that there weren't any legitimate claimants to be found. The reformed Dark Wizard himself had chosen not to remain in his former city, and had left for Naemar the previous evening in well-advised anonymity, after securing a promise from Aiovel to visit now and again.
Dylan sat deep in thought, letting Mygdewyn take his second piece of bread. The dwarf smiled appreciation and reached for the honey.
"Master Calatin," Dylan ventured at last, chewing his lower lip thoughtfully. "You didn't have to let me keep your illusion crystal." He said, referring to the black orb he had found in Argolen. Somehow the journey Dylan had made with his companions seemed far more valuable than any trinket he had won, despite the present poverty of Dunlaith.
"Keep it," the wizard advised.
"Then I am grateful." Dylan said, hesitating slightly. "Yet—I wonder if perhaps you would be willing to trade it for something else—such as a wand. Like the one Lilia borrowed."
Calatin narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing Dylan carefully. Without asking why Dylan wanted the wand, the wizard shook his head.
"You don't need one." He said firmly.
The generous wizard refused to even consider it? Dylan's forehead wrinkled in confusion. But Calatin sighed, shaking his head in amusement.
"You do not need a wand because no matter what you have been told to the contrary, there is a bit of magic in you, young prince." Calatin said, wagging an admonishing finger at him.
"Really?" Dylan's heart fluttered. Dared he believe that? Still, when a wizard diagnosed magical talent, he was seldom in error. "Then, can you show me how to use this magic?" Dylan asked, deciding to be bold.
"Of course. What do you want to learn?" Calatin asked, then waited.
Dylan's heart leapt! But he didn't need any time to decide.
"A fire spell." Dylan said firmly.
"That reminds me," Mygdewyn said, pulling a sack of items from his pack. "I found these in Argolen. Were they yours, Calatin?" Mygdewyn asked, emptying the contents.
With a loud slap, a pair of green sandals and a belt fell onto the table, and the polished stones rolled about, though Mygdewyn managed to catch them just before they rolled off the edge.
"My comfortable shoes!" Calatin cried, genuinely delighted. "And my playing dice!" he added, hefting one of the rune-marked stones. "Ah yes, my old belt." He said a moment later, hefting it, eyeing the well-worn notch in surprise. "My, I was thinner then!" Calatin said, laughing pleasantly.
"One man's junk is another man'
s treasure!" Myrddin smiled, shaking his head. "Truly Mygdewyn has done you a favor in preserving those things, Calatin."
Calatin smiled in agreement. "And if he will return these things to me, I will tell him what the two rings are that he found. In any case, they would be far more valuable to him. As for me, I no longer have use for such trinkets."
"A fair trade." Mygdewyn nodded.
"The first is a ring of luck. You'd be amazed how many games I won with it against Argolen's greatest wizards! Magic spells were outlawed in our games, of course, but I kept the ring well-hidden." Calatin added with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "The other is a ring of truth." He went on. "No falsehood—magical or mundane—can deceive the wearer."
Mygdewyn smiled broadly. "You don't think—" he blurted, then changed his mind. He didn't want to know how much luck had played a part in the prior evening's battle. What he wanted right now was another piece of bread. Unfortunately, the serving boy was occupied. Darn it! Mygdewyn's stomach rumbled ruefully.
Perceiving Mygdewyn's distress, Rodruban sighed with affection and cast a spell of bounty, conjuring a steaming loaf of bread for the dwarf. Mygdewyn pinched a bit off suspiciously, remembering Ronan's track record. But this time, Rodruban had conjured a winner! Mygdewyn rubbed his hands together greedily and drew the loaf closer. Why, his luck with the druid was improving already!
"Tell me, Rodruban, my lad," Myrddin said, watching the druid. "Have you given any thought to resolving your choice of calling?"
Rodruban turned to the High Priest. "Why, yes. I choose to be a druid, of course." He said easily.
Myrddin sighed. Of course Rodruban would say that! But Rodruban wasn't capable of making a decision for all three of his personalities.
"I should have known better," Myrddin said, raising a hand.