Shadows in the Wind

[02.08.01] » by Jess Edstrom

            Kain Highwind puffed to the top of the last hill, worn and weary from his journey.

            Only this last rise, then it's all downhill to Fyhrfain.  To think, after only three years of training, I'd be taken on as a Dragon Knight in a major Kingdom.  Just three years!  He told himself this for perhaps the thousandth time in the past month, and still hadn't grown tired of its inspiring truth.  The same truth his instructor had informed him of before he left Baron, his home; Kain had true spirit. But that's what they said about Father, and look where it took him…

            His breath returned to him, and he trotted lightheartedly down the path into the valley below.  The midday sun blazed down on the fields, turning the ripening wheat to stalks of golden fire.  The well-traveled path cut through them, and threshers in the field waved a cheery "hallo!" as Kain passed.  He returned the gesture with equal good nature, and continued on his way.

            Despite the heat of the late autumn day, Kain had a jaunty spring in his step.  His light, airy clothes, though faded by constant use, let the slight breeze filter through them.  His light leather pack held his meager belongings, contributing to the ease of his carefree gait.

            Kain was rewarded for his long trek in due time.  The town of Fyhrfain beckoned yards before him, waiting with the infinite patience of an old friend.

            He crossed the threshold, and found himself among the quaint bustle of an open market.  From flagpoles on the buildings above hung a brilliant array of colors and crests, most strange to him.  Here and there he saw one he knew, but his attention was drawn away almost immediately by the more subtle miracles of Fyhrfain.  The enticing smell of half a dozen inns wafted into the streets, calling to Kain's somewhat abused stomach.  A month of nothing but hard tack and travel rations hadn't done it any good, that was certain.  He probed the small pouch at his belt, and his fingers encountered the metallic cool of three Gil.  A smile crossed his face as he began to make his way to the welcoming door of a random inn.

            Kain stole a look at the tavern's house sign as he walked in; "The Green Dragon."  He absently stored the name away in the back of his mind, and let his eyes adjust to the dark of lamp and candlelight.

            He found an empty table in the far back of the noisy establishment.  The crowd was a good one, and not especially rowdy.  Every so often a round of hearty laughter would burst from one of the tables, but would die away as quickly as it had come.  Whiffs of roasting meat came from the kitchen, carrying the promise of a good meal.

            Kain discovered he had begun to drift when he was startled by a friendly female voice near his shoulder.

            "Excuse me, sir?  Would you like to order something?  If you would rather sleep, there are rooms available.  I mean, this isn't exactly the quietest place, after all."

            He looked up, blinking several times to clear his head.  A young, pretty girl stood before him.  She was dressed in a white apron, only slightly stained by various foods, with pockets containing a note pad and pencil.  Beneath that, she wore a deep green tunic and brown vest, along with boyish breeches.  He smiled genially, both to himself and to her.  His choice of inns had been a good one.  She was nothing more than an honest serving girl, earning an honest living-- unlike some of the other inns he had found along his way…

            "Actually, if I could have both, that would make my day complete.  But…" He reached into the waist pouch, drawing out the three coins.  "Is three Gil going to be enough to cover both?"

            She regarded the coins, then looked into Kain's eyes searchingly.  After a moment's consideration, she bowed her head with a helpless laugh and a forgiving smile.  "Sure.  You look like you could use it.  And I'll cover the cost of a hot bath myself, so you can get some of that trail dust off of you."

            Kain was about to protest, but the girl cut him off with a toss of her blonde ponytail.  "Don't worry about it.  I make enough from tips to handle one road-sore traveler.  You just leave it to me." She turned with a coy wink to go, but added, "If you should happen to encounter the innkeeper, could you put the good word in for me?  I'm Lillith, bye the way.  And you are…?"

"Kain Highwind."

"So formal!" She sighed.  "Okay, back with your chow in a second."

            He looked after her, a slight grin spreading over his face.

            She's amazing.  She's so headstrong!  I'll definitely tell the innkeeper about her.  He made a point of doing that before he turned in for the night, and waited for her to return.

            Lillith arrived moments after his last thought had passed, carrying a steaming plate skillfully in one hand and a mug of something blue in the other.  She set both before him with a satisfied little smile, and took a key from her apron pocket.  She tossed it to Kain, who caught it deftly, never taking his eyes from her. 

            "Room key?" he queried.

            At her nod, he looked to the blue liquid on the table.  "And this..?"

            "That is a special drink I make myself.  It's exactly what you need, so you better drink it.  Trust me it's not poison; I'm an apprentice Healer, and I always have some of it on hand for tired travelers like you."

            At his skeptic look, she threw her head back and laughed.  It was a musical sound, and warmed the atmosphere. 

            "Don't look at me like that, you ingrate!" She poked him in the nose, adding in a gentler, 'mother-knows-best' tone, "It's good for you, so down every last drop."

            Kain gave in with a chuckle.  "All right, all right.  I promise." He turned the conversation, waving a hand at the steaming pie that had been given to him. 

            "So, I see.  You give me something sweet to hide the flavor of the medicine, is that it?" He never lost his smile, and it turned the comment from one of sarcasm to feigned suspicion.

            She sighed, playing at being exasperated.  "No, you goose.  It's a shepherd's pie.  Meat and veggies, stew broth… nothing fancy, but you're lucky you're getting that, at three Gil.  I could just take it back, you know, if you don't want it…" She let the last word trail, hand wavering near the plate.

            Kain reached for the plate, hastily correcting himself.  "No, no… that is perfectly all right.  This will be staying with me, thank you very much," he said, laughing to himself. 

            "I thought as much." She looked as if she were going to say more, but a call from across the room snapped her to attention with a pained expression. 

            "Lillith!  Stop fraternizing with the customers!  You've got orders backing up and people are waiting on you!  Get a move on!" 

            She blushed as snickers rose from around the bar room. 

            "Innkeeper?" Kain smiled crookedly, one eyebrow raised.

            "Ah, yeah," she said sheepishly, face a furious scarlet.  "See you!" she muttered quickly over her shoulder as she vanished into the smoky dark of the tavern. 

            Kain shook his head with a chortle, and started in on his meal.  He eyed the blue concoction for a moment, then lifted it to his lips experimentally.  To his pleasant surprise, it was sweet and cool, and eased his parched throat.  Before he knew it, he had finished off the entire glass.

            He took up knife and fork, then worked through the meat pie at a ravenous pace. 

            Revitalized, he searched the room for Lillith, but couldn't find her anywhere.  He regretted not having anything to tip her, but couldn't help what he didn't have.  So he picked up his pack and found his way to the stairs leading to the rooms above.

            He walked the hall, and found the door with the number matching the tag on the key.  He slid it into the keyhole and turned, listening to the bolt as it slid home.  He pushed the door open, and stepped inside.

            The room was dark, and if it weren't for the sun shining against the draped window, it would be pitch black.  He shut the door behind him, and looked around for a candle.  Instead, he found a lamp and starter set on a table near the bed.

            Once that was lit, he got a better look at his surroundings.  The four walls were a tasteful shade of off-white, hung here and there with small paintings.  An unparticular clock held a place above a small wooden table next to the bed.  There were also decorative candle sconces, hung one per wall, which Kain lit.  Other than the bed and small table beside it, there wasn't much else in the room.  That suited him just fine.  For the price he had paid, he had expected much worse. 

            He set his pack down beside the table, and literally threw himself on the bed.  He had rested for no more than five minutes when he heard a quiet knock on his door.

            "Yes?"

            A man's voice came from beyond, slightly muffled by the solid oak.  "Sir?  Miss Lillith asked me to tell you that your bath is ready.  The bathhouse is at the right end of the hall."

            Oh?  Upstairs?  I wonder how they manage that.  "Thank you."

            There was an incomprehensible affirmative as the footsteps shuffled away.

            Kain debated whether or not to actually get up again, but decided he ought to.  After all, Lillith had gone through the trouble of getting him the bath, and he did need one.

            Especially if I'm going to meet the Captain of the Dragon Knights tomorrow morning.  With Father's reputation, I had better not have one speck of dirt on me, or it's likely I'll be thrown out on my rear for suspected murder or some other nonsense.  Might as well go before I fall asleep.

            He rolled off the bed into a standing position, and rummaged through his pack for a moment.  He brought out a faded but clean pair of black pants, and with a resigned sigh, headed for the door.

            The bathhouse was ingeniously designed.  Hot water was pumped, presumably from the kitchen into large porcelain tubs, which were wide and deep enough to be extremely comfortable.  Each tub had both shower and spout, so you could either soak or stand.  Also, around each tub was a large stall, with a closing door.  On the doors were shelves and hooks for leaving clothes, and on one shelf was a fresh towel and a new bar of scented soap.  There was no way to look in, under, or over the stall, so complete privacy was assured. 

            This is a good deal nicer than I ever would have gotten at home, that's for sure.  All we had was a tiny little washtub and lye soap.  My poor muscles are going to enjoy this very much.  I think I came to the right place.

            It feels very good to be clean again, Kain thought as he stared blankly at the ceiling.  He lay on the bed, hands beneath his head.  He drifted in and out of coherent thought, not really lingering on anything in particular.  He noticed his mind tended to float back to Lillith again and again, but noted it dully as sleep threatened to overtake him. 

            He was just beginning to close his eyes when he heard a gentle knock on his door.  He rolled off the bed with resentment, and trudged tiredly to answer it. 

            He opened the door to find a rather surprised Lillith, one hand poised to knock again.  He blinked, trying to wake up a little before he said something stupid.

            Lillith's face became a bright crimson, and her jaw worked much the same way that a fish's would.  She stammered something indistinguishable, and dropped her eyes to the floor, clearly embarrassed. 

            "You… your… I, I…."

            Kain came to a stunning realization; he was shirtless.  It hit him like a pail of ice water to the face.  Of course, that's what she's so upset about… Gods, have you cursed me with the brains of a mud turtle as some sort of cruel celestial joke?  She's obviously never been so informal with a man, excepting family, perhaps.  Well, that is certainly one way to prove her innocence… ach.

            Kain fumbled over an apology of his own, his own face beginning to feel hot.  He opened the door wider to let her in, and hastily took up the clean shirt he had intended to wear in the first place.

            Once that was over with, the tension between them lessened dramatically.  Lillith sighed with visible relief, a shaky smile on her face. 

            "For a second I thought one of the other girls had gotten to you!  Don't scare me like that.  And don't worry; I'm not here to seduce you, either.  I just came to talk.  You're too good for them, you know." She smirked, admonishing him with a sly glance.  "You're too noble."

            Kain arched an eyebrow, pulling long golden hair from out of his shirt collar, letting it cascade recklessly down his back.  "Oh, really?  And just how do you know that?" 

            She shrugged childishly, smug grin never leaving her face for a minute.  "You just look like you would be.  I have this way of telling people's personalities.  It comes with my Healing gift."  She threw herself on the bed, heaving a great sigh without any obvious reason.

            "And you sighed because… why?" Kain asked, good humor intact until the last.

            "Just because," came her simple reply.

            Kain sat heavily on the bed beside her.  Her cat and mouse style of answering questions fascinated him, but at the same time was maddening.  It was extremely hard to get anything resembling an actual conversation out of her, it seemed. 

Noble, huh.  If only she knew my father…

He made up his mind as he looked at the clock ticking the hours away; it was past time for him to sleep, and she could wait until after his interview tomorrow.

"Well.  I hope you don't mind, but I have something to do tomorrow morning.  I really need all the sleep I can get.  It's very important, so…"

"Ah!  You're one of the ones that's going to try and enlist with the Dragon Knights!"  She giggled at the dumbfounded expression on his face.  "Don't be so surprised.  Everyone knows about it.  The Dragon Knights are Fhyrfain's pride and joy, so to speak.  It's all over town, and there are lots of young, aspiring Knights-to-be coming through here this time of year."

His mouth formed a silent "oh," and he lay back on the pillow, accepting the fact quietly.  He closed his eyes, too tired to make sure Lillith actually left. 

            She'll leave once she sees that I'm sleeping.  And I really need that sleep.  In fact, I… um… sleep.  Sleep...  His mind was growing dark and thoughts came fuzzily.  Sleep gently stole over him, taking him into strong, welcoming arms.

            Lillith looked down at the sleeping Kain.

            Aww.  He's so cute when he's asleep!  Just like a little boy.  She couldn't help smiling as she reached out and tucked a stray lock of blonde hair behind his ear.  He mumbled a bit, but didn't wake.  She suppressed a laugh at that.  Yup.  Very cute indeed.  Hmm.  Maybe seventeen, eighteen.  Somewhere in that range.  The poor thing has no idea what kind of a beating is in store for him.  Timor always run his new boys ragged the first week, to see how many can still stand when he's done.  They're the ones that get to go on to the final test.

            Captain Timor was rough, but at least he wasn't unfeeling.  When the time came to say goodbye to those who couldn't make the cut, he knew just how to word it so it wouldn't break their hearts entirely.  Probably comes from years of practice. 

            Well, Timor or no Timor, there was no doubt in her mind that Kain would place high in the class, and probably claim the coveted rank of Dragon Knight long before anyone else did.  Okay, okay, so I'm a tiny bit biased.  What can I say?  He looks like a winner.  Of course, the fact that he's very charismatic helps win his favor, but that's beside the point right?  Right.

            Kain's internal timer went off right around sunrise.  He slowly crawled his way out of a deep, dreamless sleep, opening his eyes slowly to a gray and hazy world.  It was dark, even for sunrise.  It must be cloudy today, he thought absently.  He waited for the rest of his senses to catch up with him, listening to the sound of quiet breathing beside him.

            Wait… she--

            He turned his head ever so slightly to the side, looking in the direction of the soft noise.  A single glance confirmed his first thought; it was Lillith.  She still had her work clothes on, and was curled rather like a cat on top of the covers.  She had apparently fallen asleep on the spot.

            Innocent or not, she was still there.  Kain panicked, a moment of blind stupidity replacing what reason he had at this hour of the morning.  He fell out of the bed with a high-pitched squeak, landing rather ingloriously on his rump and dragging half the sheets with him. 

            Well, that was intelligent…

            A moment later, Lillith's face appeared over the side of the bed, peering down at him curiously.  Kain felt his cheeks redden.

            "Um… hi," he said sheepishly.

            Lillith was obviously holding back hysterical giggles, but she got a hold of herself fairly quickly.  "Aw, the poor goose fall down go boom," she quipped in a cutesy baby voice.  "Look on the bright side.  At least you're awake now," she offered.

            "Har har.  I wish my tail bone could agree with you." He was finding it a bit harder to get a laugh out of this than she.  "I thought you'd have left last night," he said, getting to his feet.

            "Well, I meant to, but I sort of fell asleep." 

            "Sort of?"

            "Would you prefer it if I said that I very much fell asleep?" she returned.  She hopped out of the bed, and went over to the door.  "I'll go get you some breakfast before you go.  You can't expect to be in top form for the Captain with no food in you!" She flounced out the door before Kain could counter the statement, and disappeared down the hall.

            Kain looked up at the ceiling, asking the powers for patience.  He had the feeling it was going to be a very long day.

            Greg Timor strode back and forth in front of the line of boys, sizing each one up as he went. 

            The first; short, greasy brown hair, crooked smile, but to his credit he had the hands of one who'd known hard work, and plenty of it.  Pre-evaluation—Two days and he'd be gone. 

            The next showed more promise.  He was taller, better built, with muscular legs and arms.  He had the look of a brawler, though, like one who wouldn't take kindly to an order he didn't like.  Pre-evaluation—Three days, tops.

            The third was certainly never going to last a day.  Timor saw that immediately, as he had seen too often before.  He was a pretty enough thing, alright.  Fair complexioned and very light of hair, the average sized lad made himself look all the taller with a perfect posture.  He had a slight pouty expression beneath that gentle exterior, though.  This was a noble's son to be sure, and had no doubt grown up pampered and spoiled rotten.  He would never be able to stand (or abide by) the kind of training Timor would put him through. 

            There were two more nearly exactly like him, too.  Timor groaned inwardly.  He was not going to be popular with the King's court again this year, no matter that he trained the very same warriors that now served in their households.  But it was the same every year, so he wasn't so concerned about that in particular.  No, he groaned because he would have to put up with their children's whining for at the very least twelve hours.  If they stayed the whole week, he'd have to deal with them more. 

            It's a good thing they don't usually last that long, he thought, moving on to the last one in the line.

            Timor looked this youth over quickly, eager to get on with the day, and saw—

            Potential.

            It was written in every line of the boy.  From his sparking eyes to his confident stance, this one had everything he needed to become a Dragon Knight.  Beneath his simple clothes lied a hidden strength, and a dancer's grace to match.  At first glance, any other man would have missed it.  Any other man than Timor, that is.

            He allowed a slight smile to cross his craggy face, and stepped back to speak to the students. 

            "Welcome, younglings.  I am Captain Gregory Timor, who will be known as simply Captain Timor to you from this moment on.  In the next week, you will all undergo a series of tests and exercises to see if you are fit to take the rank of Dragon Knight.  At the end of that week, I will inform you who, if anyone has passed, and those who do will go on to final test.  We shall begin today." He faced the first boy he had inspected.

            "You will please step forward and give your name and age, so I may better get to know you all."

            The short youth did as he was asked.  "Edwin Arthurson, eighteen."

            "Thank you.  Next."

            "Jacob Ferro, nineteen," the tall boy said.

            Each of the nobles did the same, and then it came down to the last.  Timor waited, curious as to whose son this could possibly be.

            The boy stepped forward, still sure of himself.  His long golden blond hair glimmered in the sun, and his deep blue eyes were lit with bold fire.  Timor couldn't help thinking the lad looked like someone he should know.

            "Kain, seventeen."

            Timor raised his eyebrow slightly.  "Last name?"

            The boy's confidence slipped and fell, and he hesitated to speak.  He regained it with amazing speed, and the light in his eyes took on a defiant shine.

            "Kain Highwind."

            There were startled gasps from the first two boys, and the nobles looked positively terrified.  Kain noticed, but didn't care. 

            Close-minded pigs.  What does it matter who my father was?  It's who I am that counts. 

            Then he came to the sobering truth.  It wasn't who his father was, it was what his father had done that made his name so feared and hated.

            Timor, to his credit, only gazed at Kain with his eyebrows in his hair.  The name had come as a surprise to him, of course, but at least he hadn't drawn his sword and plunged it into Kain's heart.  Yes, that was definitely a plus.

            "I was wondering what had happened to that son of his," the Captain muttered absently.  "Well.  Highwind, eh?" Timor chuckled lightly.  "I certainly hope you haven't come to be just like your father!"

            Kain smiled faintly, feeling much better about the situation. 

"No, sir.  I've actually come to try and clear my family name, so whenever I'm introduced I can stop getting reactions like that," he explained, waving a hand at the five cowering boys.  They, in response, stood up straight with much clearing of their throats, obviously red around the cheeks.

Captain Timor nodded, grinning at a satisfying answer. 

"Well then, let's get started, shall we?"

Kain dragged himself up the inn's stairs, wincing with every step. 

Gods, you are very cruel.  Now that Timor knows who I am and why I'm there, I'm his star pupil.  And so what does he do?  He pushes me harder than the rest of them, to the point where I fall down where I stand at the end of the day.  At least what's left of the rest of them.  Somehow, I just don't think that is fair.

He reached the door to his room, and fell against it.  It was already long past closing time, and everything was dark and quiet.  He was fumbling in his pocket for the key, when—

Suddenly, there didn't seem to be a door there anymore.  He fell forward with a surprised yelp, landing flat on his face before a pair of slippered feet.

"It's about time you got back.  This is the third night; what does he do, train you for night fighting, too?" Lillith gazed down at him, concern in her voice despite the sarcasm.

"Actually, yes." Kain picked himself up off the floor, rubbing his ill-used nose.  "You know, you don't have to wait here for me.  I am perfectly capable of opening my room and getting to bed."

She snorted in contempt.  "Provided you make it that far.  Frankly, I don't really think you are in any shape to do much of anything right now.  I know how Timor treats his students, and I was prepared for this." She handed him a mug of her blue potion, as she had done for the past three nights.  "Besides, who's paying for this room?"

"It's not fair." He drank the liquid obediently.

She looked at him strangely.  "Well, you don't have any money left, so where else are you going to stay?"

"No no no." He dismissed her assumption with a quick shake of his head, then realized it may not have been the smartest thing to do when he found he legs going out from under him.  Lillith was at his side in an instant, putting his arm around her and supporting some of his weight as he let the dizziness pass.

"What's not fair then?"

"Timor.  He works me harder than the others because I'm the son of Adam Highwind," he said, as Lillith helped him to the bed.  He sat down with visible effort as his knees stiff knees complained.

Lillith sat beside him.  "That's a good thing!  I thought you were going to get chased out with swords and pitchforks, personally.  It means he thinks you can pass, and he wants you to be a good Knight.  He has faith in you, and knows you won't give up just because it's hard." She stabbed a look at him.  "You're not going to give up, are you?" Her voice held mock threat in it, hinting at what she would do to him if he answered "yes" to that question.

"No.  I knew that the whole time, Lillith… I'm just tired and stubborn and I want to complain, okay?" He looked up at her pathetically, and she laughed. 

"Okay.  We all have days like that, don't we?  Poor goose."  She stood, and looked down at him, smiling.  "You should get some sleep.  God knows you're going to need it!"

"Oh, thanks.  That really makes me want to get up in the morning." He lay back, gently putting his head on the pillow so it wouldn't explode again.  He grabbed a handful of sheets and pulled them over himself, too tired to even undress. 

It can wait until tomorrow, he thought sleepily.  Just think.  I get to do this all again in the morning.  Whoopee… His last thought came to him and trailed into oblivion as darkness stole over him instantly.

Kain opened his eyes slowly, not exactly enthusiastic about being awake.  Being awake meant he had to get up and face that damned Captain and his damned obstacle courses again. 

To think I wanted to do this.  What was I thinking?  I must have been drunk, drugged, or both. 

He rolled on his side away from the door, coming face to face with—

Lillith.  Again.  He sighed.  This was the fourth time in a row that she'd still been here when he awoke.  The first time he'd been able to accept as an honest accident, but the last three nights he'd begun to suspect she intentionally stayed. 

She must get some sort of sadistic enjoyment out of watching me sleep.  She doesn't try to cuddle, and she doesn't try anything else, so that must be it, he thought wryly. 

As he looked at her, though, his thoughts softened.  She claims to be watching over me, making sure I don't have any bad dreams.  He chuckled as he recalled the reason she'd given him the second time he'd found her in the morning.  "I'm making sure that the poor goose doesn't have nightmares about killer obstacle course equipment or jump ropes trying to strangle him or something." Heh. 

She's very pretty when she's like this.  Very gentle looking.  Nothing at all like the tiger she can be when she's awake.  Without knowing what he was doing or why he was even doing it, Kain reached out and cupped his hand against her cheek, very softly.  He absently ran his finger back and forth along her face, losing any and all pattern of thought.  She leaned into the caress like a kitten, and Kain half expected her to start purring at any moment.  He smiled to himself.

She opened a pair of sleepy sapphire eyes slowly, blinking as she focused on him.  Kain blushed, caught.

"Um… hi."

She grinned at him.  "You seem to like that phrase." 

He began to pull his hand back, but she caught and held it in place.  Blue eyes locked with blue eyes, and Kain felt his heart slow to a pounding stop.

The moment was broken abruptly as the dawn streaked through the open blinds—right into Kain's face.

He squinted with pain at the sudden brightness, and was forced to turn and duck his head away.  He fluttered his eyelids rapidly, trying to disperse the false lights dancing before him. 

"I suppose this means it's time to get up."

Lillith sat up and stretched, yawning.  "I suppose so.  You don't want to be late, you know.  Timor might think you're beginning to get lazy already." She patted him on the shoulder, consolingly.  "I'll go find something for breakfast.  See you downstairs!" she said cheerfully, skipping out the door.

Kain shook his head, smiling in spite of the workout ahead of him.  He found a clean outfit and began to ready himself for the long day.

At last it was the final day of Timor's course.  The Captain stood before the two remaining students, Jacob and Kain.  Both had proved their worth with flying colors.  In Kain's case, literally. 

Yesterday, during a training exercise simulating scaling a wall, Kain had displayed a hidden talent, apparently inherited from his father.  The wall had been about seventeen feet high, which was far too high for anyone to be able to jump over, logistically speaking.  There had been various pieces of equipment available to the students, which included rope, long sticks to vault over with, and materials to make a ladder.  When each student was asked how he planned to get over the wall, Kain had replied, "I'm going to jump it."  At that time, Timor had simply thought Kain was going to use a pole and vault himself over.  He couldn't have been farther from the truth.

As Jacob had creatively gotten himself to the other side by taking ladder materials and the rope and making a grappling hook, Timor thought that the boy would take the high points in the exercise.  However, as Kain stepped forward and looked the wall up and down, hands empty, Timor began to have second doubts.

Kain only took two extra steps for thrust before leaping into the air.  He had cleared the wall with three feet to spare at the top, and had expertly performed a flip at his jump's crest to change the momentum so that he fell down instead of continuing upwards.

There had been some arguing as to whether or not that was cheating, but Timor had ruled that the object was to get over the wall, no matter how it was actually done.  Jacob had been a little put out by losing his glory, but didn't try to start anything. 

Now, as Timor looked at Kain, there was no doubt in his mind. 

The boy has springs for legs, just like his father.  But I can keep him from going the way Adam did.  I still blame myself for that, no matter how unforeseen it may have been.  It won't happen again.

Adam Highwind had been one of Timor's first students.  He had the same determination and fire that his son had, and had scored at the top of the class.  Due to a painful oversight, however, Timor had inadvertently doomed the poor lad.  He meant to make up for it now.

The Captain cleared his throat pointedly, catching the attention of the two youths before him. 

"The time has come for the final test, to determine which of you will go on to become a Dragon Knight.  This will not be as easy as the others, and will require that you push yourselves to the absolute limits.  Follow me, please."

Kain couldn't believe what the Captain had just said. 

The rest were easy?  If those were easy, I don't think I want to know what he calls a hard test.  And hasn't he noticed that I have been pushing my limits?  Maybe he's blind.

On the inside, Kain was rambling.  Yet, outwardly, he was as calm as an ocean before the storm.  Maybe he was too calm, for Timor kept looking at him, like he was being sized up for purchase; or worse, as if he were taking mental coffin measurements.

I am liking this less and less, he thought, following the instructor as he was directed.

He and Jacob were led into a large, stadium-like area.  The hard packed earth raised little dust and offered good footing, to Kain's pleased observation.  They turned to the right, and Timor pointed to the weapons rack before them.

"You will each choose one of these practice weapons, and whatever armor you feel you will need.  Your final test is to fight each other until one of you scores a killing blow on the other.  I will determine when either of you is dead, depending on what blows were struck and were, as well as the force of the hit.  Please keep in mind that, although they are only practice weapons, there is still a very good chance one or both of you could be seriously injured.  Choose your weapons and take places in the middle of the field, then begin when you have agreed you are ready."

That's it???  That's the hardest test of all?  You have got to be kidding me.  Although… Kain looked his opponent over, suddenly having second thoughts.  He looks like he could clean anybody's clock and walk away without a scratch.  This may be tougher than I thought.

Kain studied the selection of wooded practice weapons carefully.  He'd have to choose one that worked well with his style of fighting, of course, something light and easy to move around with.  It would also have to have an edge over Jacob's choice, a heavy broadsword. 

An edge, ha!  Not much chance of that with these things.  His eyes came to rest on the "spear," which in truth looked more like a cotton swab to him, with its padded end.  He smiled and took it off the rack, then looked to see what he could find for armor.

Timor raised an eyebrow at Highwind's odd choice of weapons.  Never in all my years of teaching has anyone chosen the spear and won, especially over a sword.  And he's left-handed.  That's going to be a major disadvantage against Jacob, since he's right handed.  I wonder how he's going to pull this one off?

As for armor, Kain surprised him yet again.  Jacob had chosen a heavy shield to match the heavy sword, and a thick leather vest studded with iron.  And whereas the weapons may have been fake, the armor was not.  Kain picked up a light padded vest of cotton, and slipped it on with a smug grin.  He knew something that Timor could not guess, and that Jacob never picked up.  As the two strode to the center of the battlefield, Jacob gave Kain an ugly sneer that said the fight was obviously his before it had even begun.  Before the day was out, Kain would change Jacob's tune considerably.

Kain stood over the downed Jacob, the cotton swab tip of the spear at the other boy's throat.  Both were panting heavily, and both had sweat running pouring down their faces.  Kain's right shoulder ached incredibly, throbbing in time to his racing pulse.  Jacob had managed to get one good swing in at the start of the bout, which had actually sent Kain staggering a few paces.  He had recovered charmingly from the attack, though, and had run Jacob in circles as payment for the pain.  The strategy had worked, and Jacob had tired quickly from the weight of his equipment.  His sword became useless as fatigue built up in his arm, and it was all Jacob could do to lift his shield even the tiniest bit.  Kain easily took him from there.

"Yield, Kain!  Jacob is declared dead; the victory goes to Kain Highwind!" crowed Captain Timor from across the arena. 

Kain removed the tip of the practice spear from Jacob's neck, and offered his rival a friendly hand to help him up.  Half expecting the other to refuse sorely, Kain was pleasantly surprised when Jacob took it with a defeated but grateful grin. 

"You whipped me good, didn't you?" he said, pulling his heavy armor off with visible relief.  "I probably deserved it, the way I looked at you earlier."

"Nah," Kain replied as he started walking back towards Timor.  "You were just enjoying a little healthy competition."

He was glad when Jacob didn't press the subject any further, and walked ahead of the "dead man" to replace his gear. 

Timor was amazed at how easily Kain had won.  After dismissing Jacob with a letter of recommendation for some other military position, he called the last remaining student into his office-of-sorts to explain his final task.

"Kain, there is one last thing you must do before you can truly be called a Dragon Knight.  You must defeat a dragon."

"What?" Kain started, and the statement fell out of his face before he could stop it.

"Have you ever seen a Dragon Knight's armor, Kain?  If you have, you've probably noticed that it looks sort of like a dragon.  That is because it is.  Or rather, was."

At Kain's puzzled expression, Timor was obliged to elaborate.

"The would-be Knight must fight a dragon as his final test.  If the trainee succeeds in killing the dragon, the dragon will give his power to the trainee in the form of the armor that the Knight will wear for the rest of his years of service.  The armor houses the soul of the dragon, so the dragon never truly dies.  Its body might, but its spirit lives within the armor.  The dragon gives the warrior strength, and enhances any physical talents he may have.  For instance, your ability to jump."

Kain absorbed the information, and carefully phrased his next question.  "So, I'll have a dragon living in my head for who knows how long?"

Timor shook his head.  "Not exactly.  The dragon is conscious in spirit only.  It cannot communicate with you in any way.  It's just there."

"And what if the dragon that I kill doesn't want to give me his soul?  What if he holds a grudge against me for killing him or something, and won't give me the armor?"

"We thought of that, too.  The only dragons used in the tests are ones that have agreed to the possibility of dying.  We ask, and we don't try and change their minds if they say no.  It is purely a volunteer commitment.  Since there are many older dragons in the mountains around the valley, we always have at least one or two who wouldn't mind the honor of becoming a Dragon Knight's armor. They do get to keep their names, after all."

Kain smiled.  "I'm sure."  Kain hesitated before asking whatever he had on his mind. 

"You want to know what happened to your father, don't you."  Timor didn't wait to see if that was what it was or not.  He merely sighed and continued.  "I suppose you, more than anyone else, have the right to know.

"Your father was one of my very first pupils.  He made it all the way to where you are now, although he was 21 when he started, and I arranged for him to fight a dragon, just like I'm going to do for you.  The dragon's name was Maelru, and he what other dragons call a Black Fury. 

"Now, not all black dragons are evil, despite the tales.  The Black Furies are the ones the bards tell of.  They are cruel, and often power hungry.  They're just born that way; it's a defective gene in the black color, they tell me.  One out of four blacks will be a Fury.  Well, Maelru was a Fury, and a damned crafty one, at that.  No one even suspected it of him.  He didn't talk to us humans too much, but when he did, he was always perfectly civil.  So, when he asked me if he could be the dragon your father would face, I thought nothing of it and consented.  He was strong, and looked like a good match for Adam.  So, it was arranged.

"Well, Adam killed him.  He won Maelru's soul and spirit, and wore Maelru's armor.  The only problem was that after a while, he started acting different.  His temper shortened and he developed an odd mean streak.  No one guessed that Maelru's evil was slowly but surely working its way into your father's brain.  It eventually drove him completely mad, and Maelru's consciousness took full control from there.  Your father died long before King Baron's troops caught up with him."  Here Timor stopped, taking a shaky breath.  "The only thing I can say to that damned dragon's memory is that it made him leave you before he lost it altogether."

The knowledge made Kain wonder if what he was doing was truly the right thing anymore.  How was he to know—the same thing that had happened to his father could possibly happen to him, couldn't it?

"Could that… happen to me, too?"

The Captain glanced up at his student, looking very old all of a sudden.  "Not this time, young Highwind.  No, I have found a dragon for you that will never have any possibility of that.  She lives in a cave to the north, and in one week, I'll take you there."

"A week, sir?"

Timor nodded.  "Aye.  You look like you should have a little time off between beatings.  Relax for a while, and enjoy what Fyhrfain has to offer.  Here," he said, tossing a light leather pouch to the shocked youth.  "This should cover food and lodging, along with any extras you may want.  You now officially on leave for the next week, Trainee Highwind, by order of your commanding officer."  He threw Kain a friendly wink.  "Dismissed!"

Lillith fidgeted in the saddle in anticipation, griping the pommel tightly since she couldn't see where the chocobo beneath her was headed.  Kain held one hand over her eyes, creating a makeshift blindfold, while he held the reins with the other.

The yellow bird's long, spindling legs swallowed the ground, even in an easy trot.  However, those same long legs also came with built-in shock absorbers, making for a smooth and comfortable ride.

"Are we there yet?" she laughed, quoting the old cliché. 

"Not yet," he said from his seat behind her.  "Only a little further, though." 

She waited a few more minutes, then thought of a new game.  "How about now?  Are we there yet now?" she asked, mischief in her voice.

He sighed, but she could tell he was just playing along.  "No, still not there."

"Now?"

"Nope."

She was about to ask again, when she felt the chocobo slow to a bouncing halt beneath her.  "We're there yet?"

"Yes, now we're there yet." He took his hand away from her eyes, and dismounted with a grin as she took in her surroundings.  And he downright laughed out loud when her jaw dropped open in wonder.

They stood in a forest clearing, ringed by towering oaks and evergreens.  Above her, a flawless crystal sky.  Below her, a carpet of lush, cool grass, filled with wildflowers of all colors imaginable.  Around her, a deep and endless green. 

"It's too perfect."

Kain came up behind her, placing gentle hands on her shoulders.  "Wait.  One thing more," he breathed.  "Look."  He reached down and plucked a single blade of grass from where he stood, and tossed it out into the open field.

The wildflowers took wing as one body, becoming thousands of butterflies.  They scattered through the clearing, filling the air with tiny jewels of flying color.  She watched in rapture.  She turned to Kain, stared deep into the laughing blue eyes, and lost her heart forever.

Half of her had instantly fallen in love with him.  And the other half wanted to smack him for making her look like a fish again.  She closed her mouth, not really wanting a butterfly down her throat. 

"How did you find this place?"

"I went exploring one day, and just came across it," he replied off-handedly.  "Just kind of dumb luck."

"I'm glad you had that kind of luck." She realized she had begun to whisper, but she didn't care.  She moved her nose a tiny bit closer to his.

"Are you saying I'm dumb?" he teased softly, following her lead.

"No, Goose.  That's not what I'm saying…  at… all…" 

Any further hesitation was carried off on the wind with the butterflies, and only the silent yellow chocobo was witness to their passion.

Timor crept around the last corner that led into the main chamber of the Dragon Queen's cave. 

"Serath?" he called quietly, not wanting to disturb her.

"I am here, Greg.  What brings you, old friend?" a deep female voice replied, echoing as if it came from the bottom of a well.  Timor sighed, and stepped into the cavern with relief.

"I need a favor, Serath.  I have another Trainee for you."

The warm glow from the coals surrounding the cave gave an orange tint to the dragon's cerulean scales.  She was stretched lazily along the slab of rock that served as her throne of sorts, her long tail trailing off one edge.  She groaned with tired exasperation, as if this were a subject brought up many a time before.

"I don't want to kill another one, Greg.  The guilt is too much for me.  They've all been so full of promise, and they would all have had lives if it weren't for me.  And year after year you send them to me.  To their deaths, Greg.  I will not kill another one."

Timor approached the dragon, shaking his head.  "I understand, Great Lady.  And I will not force on you what you do not wish."

She gave him a sidelong glance from the corner of one sharp, golden eye.  "Of course you wouldn't Greg.  Don't be an idiot.  You seem to forget who's the dragon here." She threw him a toothy smile. 

He returned the gesture with a chuckle.  "Hear me out, old friend.  I have another, with more potential than any of the others put together.  He's someone I think you'll recognize, but I won't tell you who yet.  That would ruin it."

"Oh?  And exactly what is in this for me, Greg?"

"You ask that every year, Serath, and every year you get the same answer." 

"Well, I'm asking again.  What is in this for me?  If he's everything you say he is, I'll be killed, Greg, and you know it.  I'll die, my son will not have been born yet, and thus I'll have left no heir to the throne.  You know who that leaves as heir, don't you?  Mwyr. Gods forbid he ever become King.  My kind would fall back to the ways of my  uncle.  Do you really want to bring that upon humans again?  I doubt it.  And I don't want it for my dragons.  That sort of thing gives rise to a lot of dragon slayers, and in turn a lot of dead dragons.  When my son is born, it'll still take three years for him to grow up enough to challenge Mwyr."

Timor was beginning to lose hope.  But the Queen wasn't through yet.

"All of this to make one Dragon Knight, Greg.  In my opinion, the ends do not justify the means, and the ends most definitely outweigh those means.  This trainee of yours is a lot less important than the stability of my kingdom."

Timor nodded, seeing her logical conclusion.  "I know, Serath.  But there just aren't any other dragons around.  And I can't deny this to him; he's worked too hard to come this far!"

Serath closed her eyes, grinding her back teeth in vexation.  Finally, she looked at him piercingly, searching his soul and beyond.

"I will do what you ask.  Bring him to me, and I will do it.  But don't be surprised when I hand another dead future back to you." She sighed, blowing a hot, dry wind through her clenched jaws with a whistling sound.  "You, Greg Timor, are a stubborn man, and a damned imbecile."

"And you, Serath Hamut, are too patient with this damned imbecile." He bowed, spreading his hands wide.

"I know, I know.  Now get out before I change my mind," she joked tiredly.

Timor did so gladly, a self-satisfied smile crossing his weary features.

Kain pulled himself out of his warm cocoon of sleep, and rolled on his side. 

Lillith slept soundly, the slightest traces of a smile lingering about her lips. 

He reminded himself forcefully that today was the day that he'd have to face the dragon, and win his armor.  Not a task he particularly enjoyed, but not one she shunned, either.  It would be the moment of truth for him, and what determined how far he'd go in life.

Yes, Kain.  Make light of a life and death situation.  Go proudly to your death laughing, just like your father, vain Highwind. 

Ah, you can handle it.  It's only a dragon, after all, he reassured himself.

Oh yes, by the way—what kind of flowers do you want at your funeral?

He smirked at himself, knowing that he shouldn't worry about it until the time came.  If it ever came.

He gazed at the sleeping Lillith beside him, content just to watch her dream. 

And to think I accused her of enjoying watching me sleep. 

He reached out to stroke her amber hair, slightly mussed from the pillow.  He tried not to wake her up, but apparently failed.

"Mm'morning," she said, a lethargic slur to her words.  "Today th' day?"

"Mmhmm," he affirmed, just as relaxed.  "It is."

"Dang.  That means y'have t'get up, doesn't it?" She ran a finger along his bare collarbone.  "Phoo."

"I could say I was sick or something, I suppose, but…" He was hushed as Lillith tender put a finger to his lips. 

"Then you'd end up losing everything you've worked so hard to get."

"Well, I wouldn't go so far as to say everything…"

She wriggled a little closer, and kissed his forehead.  "No.  No, you get to go play hero for Timor, and I get to wait patiently for your return while being yelled at by my boss for daydreaming about you."  She gave him a little push, for motivation.  "Go on, get dressed."

With no little resignation, he gave in to the day and left the last of his week off behind.

Kain left the chocobo and his Captain at the entrance to the cave, gripping his spear in preoccupation.  Through his mind raced a hundred thoughts, each faster than he could make out what they actually were.  As he stepped cautiously into the yawning hole in the mountain, he forced himself to calm down and focus.

You have no armor, so you'll have to be extra careful.  Having no armor is usually pure stupidity and you know it, Kain.  Except this time you have a reason, and a sound one.  There's no light, flexible armor on earth that can protect from dragon fire, and you can't jump effectively with anything that can.  It's all too heavy and clunky.  The same goes with a sword; it limits movement, and is utterly useless against a dragon.

So you think you've got this one figured out, eh, stupid goose?  Just wait until your goose is cooked.  What's Lillith going to say about you then?  She may have to change your nickname to "Fried Chicken."

He walked on regardless of his nagging inner voice, noticing somewhere in the back of his mind that the air was growing steadily warmer. 

At last he came to the corner Timor had told him about.  Beyond it lie the dragon he would fight, and there was no turning back now.  The sound of great bellows working filed the cave, accompanied by a warm, dry breeze.  He gripped the spear tighter, taking a final deep breath before stepping around the corner into the vast main chamber of the cave.  He caught his breath, amazed at what lay before him. 

An enormous dragon was stretched lazily over the stones, taking up more than half the cavern.  Its eyes were closed in slumber, and thin ribbons of steam drifted from the corners of its jaws.  Two long, ivory horns swept back from the top of its head.  Its talons flexed and twitched minutely as it dreamed.  Its scales were a depthless blue; bluer than sapphires, the sky, or the sea.  They glowed softly in the light given off by a ring of glowing embers that circled the chamber, which were the source of the pleasant heat in the room.  Kain noticed that the dragon had no wings. 

A wyrm, perhaps?

"I should think not," rumbled a sleepy, indignant female voice.  "So, you have come at last, young warrior.  Come to slay the dragon and become a hero?" The voice dripped with sarcasm, but was somehow not unfriendly.

The dragon opened a single golden eye, looking him over curiously, and then the other as she raised her elegant head off her fore claws. 

"You're a brave one to come here without any armor," she said, echoing his earlier thoughts perfectly.

Kain struggled to find his voice.  "Not exactly, Milady.  There was no armor suitable for this."

"Then the statement stands." She drew herself into a sitting position, looking down at him from a superior height.  "Come closer boy.  I won't hurt you yet.  Tell me; what is your name?"

He didn't like the sound of that "yet," but he did as he was told.  "Kain.  Kain Highwind," he said shortly, nervousness beginning to betray him. 

She dropped her head until it was level with his, gilded eyes wide with wonder.

"Highwind?  Highwind who slew my father's brother?" She drew a sharp breath.  "Then it is up to me to make or break the next legend." Her eyes searched him.  "Yes.  Well, now that I know who you are, I suppose I should introduce myself." She pulled her head back a bit, raising her voice. 

            "I am Serath Hamut, Queen of Dragons.  And this," she added, voice taking on a softer, loving tone, "This is my son to be."

            She moved aside, sweeping the ground as her tail moved to reveal a large, pearly egg. 

            Kain's heart plummeted to his shoes as his mouth fell open the tiniest bit.  How could he kill and expecting mother, dragon or no?  But then there was the other side of the fence.  There seemed to be a grudge against his family name on account of his father.  Frankly, he couldn't blame her; but if this dragon wanted to kill him, he wasn't about to sit by and let her. 

            "Close your mouth, boy.  You look a frog waiting for a bug, and it's not exactly flattering, I'm sure." She chuckled, throwing him a casual wink.  Kain shut his mouth with an audible snap. 

            "As for my son, he'll be perfectly fine right out of the egg.  He'll hatch with or without my help, thanks to these coals.  He'll have all the survival skills he needs imprinted into his mind as instinct, and that includes the draconic language.  But you don't have to worry about him.  You have an exam to pass, and you won't be worrying about much of anything if you fail." She stood, shaking herself to loosen stiff muscles.

"Shall we begin, then?"

Kain set his jaw, hand clenching reflexively on his spear. 

I'm going to regret this in the morning, but I've got to go through with it.  It's either her or me, and I'd rather it be her when it comes right down to it.  He steeled himself and nodded to her.

"Very well, then," she said, sounding—regretful?

"ARM THYSELF!" Her roar could have spilt the heavens, making the entire cavern tremble as it thundered off the walls.

Kain tensed, ready to spring at a moment's notice.  Every muscle was as taut as a tavern bard's lute string as he watched the dragon for a clue as to what she was going to do next.  He certainly got one.

Serath pulled her head back, seeming to emulate a bowstring being drawn.  An orange glow began to creep from around the corners of her mouth as she took a deep breath through flared nostrils. 

All at once, an explosion of light and sound, fire and meteors erupted from Serath's gaping jaws, bathing the cave in red, searing light.  Kain narrowed his eyes, looking for an escape.  He realized too late that he had misjudged the height of the grotto, and it was too low for his jump technique to be of any use.  He hastily resolved to leap the side instead, diving out of the flaming plume's path.  He barely managed to avoid being burnt to a cinder.  He landed hard on an outcropping of jagged rocks, however, and a sharp pain lanced through his chest.

Kain grit his teeth, biting back a cry of agony.  He forced himself to ignore it, and staggered to his feet.  He put the injury out of his mind quickly, dodging a vicious tail with relative ease. 

After three more narrow escapes, he began to wonder if he was actually going to gain any ground in this fight.  Then an idea struck him.

If I can't jump over her, I'll jump on to her instead!

He waited for an opening, then made his move.  Quick as a striking weasel and agile as a cat, he leapt onto her towering azure back.  She let out a surprised growl, and tried to roll over and crush her opponent beneath her.

I don't think so.  Next trick…

Kain jumped again, this time landing on the dragon's nose. He dragged the tip of his spear along her cere, drawing a thin line of blood.  Serath roared to deafen the gods, but Kain didn't flinch.

Last trick…

He dropped down to where Serath's head and neck met.  Now that she was on her back, the soft and vulnerable skin there was exposed.  He placed the spear's end against the fatal spot, watching it rise and fall with her steady breathing.

And stood.

"Well, warrior?  What stays your hand?" Serath's voice was calm, and held no animosity of any kind.  "Strike, and finish what you came to do."

Kain made no move to do anything of the sort.

"I—can't."

"Why?  You must to complete your training," she reasoned.

Kain let the spear fall, listening numbly as it clattered to the ground below.  He hung his head, defeated and suddenly very tired.  His side ached dully, but he didn't care.

"I know, but I just can't.  You don't want to die, do you?  You're proud, strong, and have a son to raise.  It wouldn't be honorable to kill you, even if I did have to."

Serath laughed quietly deep in her throat.  With one of her massive fore claws, she gingerly set Kain on the cold stone floor.  She righted herself, rolling onto her feet again.  She lowered her eyes to meet his, gazing intently at his sagging form.

"Well spoken, my friend.  Well spoken.  I think you have passed after all."

"What do you mean?" Kain asked, making no secret of his bewilderment.  "I didn't kill you.  I didn't get my armor."

"I think you will find, as your father did, that honor is often more highly regarded than valor.  It is not the armor that makes a Dragon Knight, young Highwind.  It is heart.  And it takes more courage to spare a dragon than kill one, let me assure you." Serath grinned slightly, amber eyes sparkling wickedly.

"Why's that?" His spirits were returning to him.

"Because," she explained, "Most dragons would likely show their gratitude for trying to kill them at all by squashing you without waiting for an apology."

Kain couldn't help laughing, and the cerulean dragon joined him.  "I'll tell you what.  I'll tell your commander that you passed the exam, if you'll come visit me every so often.  Sound fair?"

"You mean it?" His eyes widened, and he was even more confused than before.  "It's more than fair, Great Lady, but why would you want me around?"

Serath shrugged, carefree and relaxed.  "Why not?  I get bored just lying around all day, and I like your company.  So will you?"

Kain agreed with a nod, a smile spreading over his face.  "I'll do that."

"Good," the dragon said, satisfied.  "Now then; you go tell your commander to come see me, and I'll explain everything.  If you'll excuse me, I must tend to my egg."  Kain took that as a dismissal of sorts, and stood to leave—or rather, tried.

The pain in his ribs would let him be no longer.  He collapsed to the granite floor, hissing through clenched teeth.  Serath swung her head back towards him in alarm.

"You bleed, Kain."

"So do you," he pointed out, indicating the slash across her brow.

"Let me see." Her voice was thick with worry, and she turned him over with her nose until she could see the wound.  It was rather ugly. The gray of his shirt was stained with blood, and clods of dirt clung to the fabric.  She closed her magnificent eyes, and Kain recognized a Healing trance.  He held perfectly still while the dragon worked the magic.

"How ever did you manage to bung yourself up in such a spectacular fashion?" she said in a conversational tone.  "You've broken three ribs, and you're bleeding all over the place."

"I was dodging your fireballs, remember?"

"Ah yes.  Well, since it's my fault, let me fix it."  She fell silent, and Kain could feel the cool green energy flowing through his body.  It replaced the pain with numbness, and knit the bones neatly in place.  After a while, the screaming fire in his side was reduced to a mere tingling throb.

"That ought to help.  I'm afraid though, that I shouldn't mess with your skin.  It's far too different from dragon hide; I might end up doing more harm than good.  It could scar funny or get infected, or both.  So, in short, you're still bleeding all over." She paused, considering another alternative.  "However, I could Heal you in another way.  It is an ancient dragon Healing method.  I just don't know how well it would work, since you're human, and I'm, well, not."

"If it might make the bleeding stop, do it.  I haven't come this far to die of blood loss now."

She nodded gravely, and bent her head towards the scarlet injury.  She touched her wound to his, and waited for the blood to mingle. 

Kain thought he would die right then and there.  The wound burned with new ferocity, as if it were set alight by a thousand flame spells.  He clamped down on a howl of torture, waiting for it to be over.

Serath pulled back in a hurry, growling under her breath.  Apparently it stung as much for her as it had for him.  But the feeling had left as quickly as it had come, and it had left him feeling strangely revitalized.  He stood experimentally, as if testing the power of her Healing.  No pain.

"What did you do?"

"Have you ever heard of Blood Bonds?  When two people cut themselves and touch cut to cut in order to feel closer to each other?  Dragons do it to Heal each other.  And as a side effect, each dragon will gain a tiny piece of the other's spirit.  Look," she pointed with her nose to his side.  "You're recovered.  As am I."

He didn't need to look.  He knew just by the lack of hurting in his ribs that she told the truth.  "Now what?"

She yawned widely.  "Now, we do what we had intended to do before that whole little drama.  You go home and make merry or something, and I go look after my egg.  And sleep.  Sleep is a good thing right now."  She held back another yawn, and shooed him towards the entrance with her tail.  "Go on.  I'm sure Timor's wondering what happened to you by now."

Kain grinned at her, and turned on his heel.  He tried very hard not to run out of the cave in his giddy elation.  He was a Dragon Knight.

Kain was good on his word, and regularly made the trip to the Dragon Queen's cave.  The two would sit and chat about anything and nothing at all, even local town gossip.  Sometimes they would be forced to stay inside the confines of Serath's subterranean home, such when bad weather arose.  But more often they would stretch out on the hillside and bask in the warm caress of the sun. 

It was one of those days, almost a month after Kain had first met Serath, and he had just been informed of his first real assignment as a Dragon Knight.

"I've been transferred to, of all places, Baron.  I get to go home in three days, and see my family again."  He stared blankly up at the perfect sky, shading his eyes from the sun. 

"I thought you didn't have any family left." Serath's tail twitched a tiny bit as her interest was caught.

"Well, my sort of family anyway.  I've got a few friends in Baron; they're all the family I've got at this point.  I miss them a lot, but this was really important to me.  Now that I'll be stationed there, I don't have to miss them any more!"

Serath chortled.  "Logical reasoning."  She sighed, raising her eyes to the heavens.  "I had family once, too.  Except, mine sort of disintegrated on me, leaving me to battle the storm that came when it did.  All thanks to my uncle.  You know the creature's name well, Kain.  Does Maelru ring any bells?"

He sat bolt upright, suddenly listening very carefully to what she was saying.  "I thought you might.  There's something you humans don't know about Black Furies.  The defective gene that makes them mad is hereditary, yes.  But it is not limited strictly to black dragons.  Very often it can come to rest in any offspring of a line that carries the gene.  My great-grandfather had it, my uncle had it, and my brother now carried it within him.  It eats at his mind, drives him to hunger for power and destruction.  He murdered my father, thinking that since he was the only male heir, he would become King.  He did not read the laws clearly enough, and I, being the elder, became Queen after Father.  I banished my brother, and thank the gods, I have seen neither hide nor scale of him since."  She shook her head, as if tasting something very sour.  "Talk of him leaves a foul flavor on my tongue.  Truly, a sad case.  But shall we change the subject?"

Kain would have nodded, but he was interrupted by a low hissing from somewhere above him.  Kain acted quickly, on nothing more than instinct and reflex.  He grabbed his chocobo and rushed inside the cave to avoid being spotted by whatever it was outside.  He heard a voice coming from the cliffs, deep and sly.

"Oh, no, dear sister!  Let us talk more of your dear, departed brother."  A gale of wind and thunder descended on the hill, as Serath moved to cover the cave.  Kain was able to see everything from between her massive legs, but no one would be able to see him.  He rubbed dust out of his eyes, and looked up—

To come face to face with a mountain of a dragon.  It was emerald green, taller and more muscular than Serath.  Its head was boxier, with a tapering muzzled filled with dagger-like teeth.  Cruel yellow eyes blazed in their sockets, and deadly talons furrowed the ground in apprehension.  Two great, leathery sails spread themselves across the land, the sun shining through the translucent skin and revealing hidden veins.

It has wings!  Male, then, if what Serath says is right.  Of course it's right, you blockhead!  She wouldn't tell you if it wasn't!  And it calls itself her brother.  This must be the one she was talking about.  Of course it is!  Can't you put the simple facts together, even when they're set right in front of your face?  His mind was racing in small, trapped little circles, and he tried in vain to straighten himself out.  All he could do was watch.

"Well, speak of the Devil," he heard Serath growl.  She was clearly stunned, but there was no evidence of it in her voice; and with a dragon, that was dangerous.

"We meet again, after all these long years, Serath.  It has been too long in coming that I assume your ill-attended throne.  Dragonkind has grown weak under your rule, Serath.  They have forgotten the old ways, and bend to the humans without question.  They have become nothing more than the humans' pets, who obediently roll over and show their bellies when commanded.  No longer.  I will show them how to truly be dragons again, and the humans will regret their ignorance.  You are too much like Father, Serath.  You are blind to the ultimate truth.  You just can't comprehend the possibilities, can you?" he sneered.

Serath bared her formidable fangs, a seething blue hurricane.  "Keep thy serpent's tongue in thy head, foul beast that dares claim brotherhood to me," she snarled, warning in her voice.  "Be gone quickly, Mwyr, or you may find yourself leaving in more pieces than you came."

But the other only laughed, a cold, harsh sound.  "Such heroics, Serath!  'Tis a shame they shall be wasted!"  He closed his eyes, fighting down chuckles, and considering his options.  "Very well, Serath.  I will go.  For now, at least…"

A thrust of his wings and he became no more than a quickly disappearing dot in the aquamarine sky.

Serath was still growling softly when Kain came out of hiding to stand beside her.  He waited for her low rumbling to subside before he gently placed one hand on her fore claw. 

"He'll be back, you know.  And when comes, I'll deal with him then." She shook herself from tip to tail, as if removing a coat of dirt.  "You should go home, Kain.  I think I'd like to be by myself for a while.  To think."

He nodded, turning to his chocobo.  Before he mounted, a thought crossed his mind.  "Serath.  You and me are very alike."

"How so?" She began starting into her dwelling, but waited for him to finish before she disappeared completely. 

"We both share the same code of honor, and we both have family that betrayed us."  He swung up onto the chocobo's back, and sent it scurrying for home before the dragon could respond. 

Serath was right; Mwyr did come back, not more than a fortnight later. 

Kain's heart raced as he approached the Queen's lair.  The ground was charred all around the hillside, the grass no more than a memory.  He very nearly flew of the chocobo's back at the sight of a trail of blood leading into the cave. 

He pelted down the passageway, lungs on fire with the smoke that still lingered there.  He burst into the main chamber, fearing what he might find—

 And he found Serath lying curled around her egg, peaceful and content.  She raised her head at his sudden appearance.

"Kain!  I was hoping you come by today." She stood, pushing the egg to the side—

And revealing the gaping, ragged slashes in her side. 

Kain was too stunned to even think.  All he could do was blurt the first thing that came to him.  "Wha—what happened?"

She lowered herself carefully to the ground again, wincing.  "To sum it all up, Mwyr happened.  Kain, come over here," she said, putting her head on the stone and sounding exhausted.  "I need to tell you something."

He half stumbled, half ran to her in tear blinded haste.

"Kain there are two things I want you to know. The first is that I consider you one of my own.  You are like a foster son to me, and I grown very fond of you.  The second, and most important, is this.  Before you left the other day, you told me that we both had family that betrayed us.  In my case, that is true.  However, what happened to your father was not his fault.  Your father was a good man, Kain, before Maelru got a hold of him permanently.  My father often spoke of him with high praise, as I would speak of you.  Don't go through life hating him for something he had no control over."

"Oh God, oh God.  Why you, why now?" He was rambling, and hadn't really heard more than the first part of what she had said. 

"Stop that," she said firmly.  "Now listen.  Mwyr doesn't know that I even have a son.  He would truly be King but for that.  Unfortunately, none of the other dragons know it either.  I've been keeping it kind of hush-hush for just such an occasion.  There may be a few years coming where dragon-kind will be in confusion, and you may have to destroy a great many of them if they start doing what Mwyr wants.  But my son will become King in time, and he will kill Mwyr." Serath's voice began to become very soft, trailing to a hoarse whisper.  "And he will be King.  Oh, he will be King and he will kill Mwyr mercilessly to avenge the death of his mother, the Queen." She sighed, closing her great golden eyes in savage joy.

"Serath, you can't die!  You have to see your egg hatch, you must see him born, and teach him to be King.  Serath, please…"

"Don't be silly.  He will know, and he will know of my death.  He will know everything about his past and his mother.  It is the way of the dragon."

The threatened tears finally came, gracing the great beast's face.  He threw himself against her, not wanting to let go.

"Tears for me, young Highwind?  You have such a big heart."  She gazed at him, fond regret reflected in her eyes.  "Son.  Son of all the best things in me; I love you.  You must promise you won't forget me."

"Never.  Never never never," he mumbled into the azure scales.  His head cursed at him for showing such pathetic weakness, but at the moment, his heart couldn't have cared less.

"Good.  Then I will give you something to help you remember.  Fare well, Kain Highwind, son of Adam.  It is an honor to have known you."  She shuddered violently, then relaxed all at once as her golden eyes fell shut for the last time.

Kain let her go and slumped in a grief stricken heap, head in his hands.  There he sat for what could have been an eternity, mind devoid of all thought.

When at last he looked up again at where Serath had been, in her place there was something else.  A pile of indigo armor, trimmed in gold, now sat where the Dragon Queen's body once was.  It looked very reminiscent of a stylized dragon.

At last he had his armor.  But it was no comfort.

He nudged the chocobo over the last rise, wanting more than anything to be back in Lillith's arms.  He glanced back at the armor strapped to the saddle, and sighed. 

His yellow-feathered steep topped the hill, and Kain gazed down at the town he had recently come to love.  At least, what was left of it.

Fyrhfain was no more than so much burned rubble now.  The farmers' fields were gone, and the castle was in ruins.  Smoke still trailed from smoldering wreckage that was the city itself, now only piles of charred wood and ashes.  The entire valley was a black pit against the mountains.  Kain noticed a rapidly vanishing green dot in the sky, and the cinder-laden wind brought with it the sound of deep and malevolent laughter. 

Kain dug his heels into the chocobo's sides, spurring the startled creature down the trail at a breakneck pace.  The bird did his very best to avoid stumbling over the uneven ground, and somehow managed not to trip over his own long legs. 

The inn.  Lillith. 

He charged through the debris, heading for where the tavern used to stand.  He found it, what little there was left to find.  Mwyr seemed to have a twisted sense of humor.  The only structure left standing in the entire town was the inn's house sign; 'The Green Dragon.'

He dismounted in one swift action, and ran to the piles of fallen, seared timbers searching desperately for survivors.  No such luck.  He overturned every board, every brick, and every smashed table, but he found no one.  No one alive, at any rate. 

He was about to give up and go dragon hunting when he saw something pale protruding from beneath the mess of scorched rubbish.  A human hand was trying with all its God-given might to pull the rest of its body out from under the doomed building's remains.  Kain was by the victim's side immediately, fervently hoping it was who he thought it was.  He grasped the hand and pulled, kicking the pinning boards off with one foot as he did.

Lillith writhed free of the death trap, simultaneously coughing and gasping for air.  She was plastered with ashes and dried blood, with numerous cuts and scrapes.  Her blue eyes faltered for a moment as they adjusted to the sudden light, and she squinted to make out her rescuer.  "Kain?  Is that you?"

He refrained from embracing her for fear of doing more damage.  "Yes, Lillith.  I'm here.  Are you hurt bad?" He gently laid her down in a clear spot, and whistled for his chocobo.  The bird trotted over to him obediently.  He grabbed the bedroll off the saddle, and placed it under Lillith's head.

"I can't tell.  Everything hurts.  I don't know what's going to be a problem and what isn't, 'cause my head's all muddled.  When I try and Heal anything, my vision gets all fuzzy and I start to black out," she rasped.  "I don't even know what happened; it was all so fast, I, I—…" She coughed spasmodically, small droplets of blood staining her white apron. 

"Shh," he hushed her.  "You shouldn't talk.  I can take you to Baron with me, and we'll get you fixed up there.  With the chocobo, it won't take more than three days; you have to hang on for me!"

She shook her head, reaching with a shaky hand for his.  He gave it to her, and was alarmed at how cold she was.  "Kain, I won't make it that far.  You have to go on.  You're due to report at Baron in four days.  You can't just abandon your duties now, not because of this." She paused for breath.  "I have to go.  There's nothing that can change that."

"But you're a Healer!  You can change it!" he protested weakly.

"Kain, I'm only an apprentice.  I don't have the skill." She looked at him, eyes far away.  "You know I love you, you goose.  You have to learn that the world won't stop when I'm gone; it will go on, just as you'll have to.  You can, Kain.  You're strong, and you can be even stronger because of this." She smiled faintly up at him, and tucked a stray lock of damp blond hair behind his ear. 

"Lillith, don't leave me.  I need you," he pleaded.

"You don't need me, but I understand.  I want you to know I wouldn't take back a single moment of the time I spent with you.  Not one.  It's been so much fun, Kain.  Thank you."

He tenderly took her in his arms, her frail helplessness painfully obvious.  Her eyes, once so full of life and laughter, were now becoming cloudy. 

"I'm sorry, Lillith.  I'm so very sorry.  I wasn't here to protect you."

She laughed feebly, a spark of her old self showing through.  "From what I guess happened, there wasn't a whole lot you could have protected me from.  You'd be in the same boat as me right now."

"Then at least I'd be able to die with you!" he wailed softly.

She lifted her head to close the tiny distance between them, pressing her pale lips to his in a final farewell.  She broke the kiss off reluctantly, seeming to stare through him rather than at him. 

"Live.  For me."

Kain held her battered body until the next sunrise.  The tears that streamed down his cheeks only lasted half that long.  He didn't sleep, and the Kain that greeted the dawn the following morning was a defeated and broken warrior with red-rimmed eyes. 

He spent the night in reflection of the past two months, reliving every moment spent with her.  He was torturing himself, and he knew it.  But it was a strange sort of masochism, and brought a sort of comfort to him. 

He buried her in the grove where they had first truly recognized their love for each other, beneath the evergreens and under the butterflies. He left no marker, no headstone; the place itself was tribute enough for him.

He then mounted the chocobo and began the lonely journey back to Baron, leaving the doomed Kingdom behind without a single glance back.

The rain beat a monotone tune against his blue armor, and despite the fact that he wore the helmet, he still ended up chilled to the bone by nightfall.  It was the third and final day of his trip home, made all the shorter by his mount.  Chocobos could travel extremely long distances in a rather short time when the need presented itself. 

He knew Baron wasn't too far away, and resolved to keep going through the night instead of pitching camp.  It would prove to be a near fatal mistake on his part.

He had started to lead the chocobo as soon as Castle Baron's towering walls could be sighted through the dim haze of rain and fog.  The road was one long mud puddle, and the bird had slipped and skidded more than half a dozen times.  Kain tugged lightly on his steed's reins, and the bird followed, able to pick his way among the sludge much better without a rider.

The gates of Baron Town were shut against the night, but were in plain view not more than twenty yards before him.  A guard's candle burned bright in the watchtower, cutting through the downpour and guiding his tired feet.  But just as Kain was about to call out to the watchman on duty, he collapsed in a sudden wave of dizziness.

He heard the guard call out for help, and he thought he recognized the voice before he blacked out entirely.

Kain stood in an ethereal world, feet planted on a rather insubstantial looking path of diamond light and silvery dust.  He looked around to see where Baron had gone, and found something else instead.

A middle aged man stood before him.  His blond hair was just beginning to gray at his sideburns, and unlike Kain, he wore his hair uniformly short.  There were slight wrinkles around his sad blue eyes, and deep creases in his brow from constant worrying and stress.  He smiled warmly at Kain, some of the sorrow in his face lifting.  But by no means all of the sorrow.

            "Kain," he said kindly.  "It's been such a long time.  You've grown up since I last saw you.  I've missed you, son."

            "Father?"

            "Yes, Kain.  It's me." 

            Kain's eyes blazed.  "If you've brought me here to try and change my mind, it isn't going to work.  Wherever here is."

            Adam Highwind was puzzled at his son's sudden vehemence.  "What are you talking about?  Change your mind?"

            "About being a Dragon Knight.  You will neither talk me out of doing it nor persuade me into taking the road you chose.  I won't be like you, Father.  I won't betray my friends and family when they need me most.  I won't betray them ever."

            The man looked hurt.  "Kain.  You must hate me for the things I supposedly did."

            Kain cocked an eyebrow.  "Supposedly?"

            Adam nodded.  "Yes.  I don't believe you have been told the whole truth, and I want more than anything in the world to tell you now.  You know that Maelru's armor ended up taking away my freedom to act.  And perhaps you have been told that it drove me insane.  Both of those are true, to a point.  But Maelru didn't just take control of me, he killed me.  I am what remains of my original self.  I am the Adam Highwind that believed in honor, I am the Adam Highwind your mother loved, and I am the Adam Highwind that had a son named Kain.  When your mother died, that gave Maelru the opening he needed to work his way back to consciousness, and it was the beginning of the end for me.  I recognized it, and left you before I could hurt you."

            Kain unleashed all the pent up anguish inside his broken heart upon the apparition. "Damn you, Father!  You call leaving me all alone not hurting me?  You have the nerve to stand here and apologize to me now?  Do you have any idea what I went through when I lost Mother, and then you went and left without any word what so ever?  And then hearing tales about the Highwind the Black, who terrorized people the world over and killed with no quarter?  Do have the slightest clue as to what I went through then?  The taunting, the beatings, the fear in people's eyes my whole life through when I told them my name?  You call that not hurting me?" He choked, running out of steam.  "I have been through Hell and back because of you, and you call it not hurting me."

            Adam hung his head, shamed.  "I know I have not been the best father.  In fact, I was probably the worst father in the history of fatherhood.  But I can't change what I did.  And you've paid dearly for my mistakes.  I wouldn't blame you if you hated me for the rest of your life.  But I will still love you."

            'Don't go through life hating him for something he had no control over…' Serath's words rung all too clearly in his mind.  His anger died away instantly, and a new sensation washed over him with the same intensity. 

            "I can't hate you.  Not any more.  After all, you're my Father.  But, I just wish it wasn't so hard.  Mother, you, Serath, Timor, and Lillith.  They're all gone now.  I have no one left, no one to turn to.  I'm alone again.  And I don't know what to do this time."

            The elder man put a consoling hand on his son's shoulder.  "You'll do what you've always done.  You'll survive it, and become all the stronger.  I'm very glad that you decided to become a Dragon Knight.  You chose to fight the wrongs Maelru committed in the Highwind name, instead of hiding from them.  I'm very proud of you.  Your mother would be, too."

            "So you aren't going to try and change my mind about it?"

            Adam chuckled affectionately.  "Of course not.  I brought you here to encourage you, to tell you not to give up yet.  You're a fighter, Kain, but sometimes you have to be reminded of it.  I was a fighter too, but I just couldn't fight hard enough.  So here I am, languishing in Limbo thanks to that damned armor." He smiled at his son.  "And you haven't remembered it, but you are not quite alone yet.  There is still at least one who has not forgotten you."  He turned to leave, looking back at Kain, his blue eyes missing much of the guilt that had been there earlier.  "Good bye, Kain.  Please don't forget about me, either, alright?"

            "I promise, Father."

            "Hey, Rosa, I think he's coming around!" the familiar voice was somewhere over his head.  "Kain?  Kain, buddy, you okay?"

            Kain opened sore eyes, and had to blink several times before they would focus properly on the face above him.  "Ooohh…  who?  Cecil?" 

            A grin split the younger boy's face, and his green eyes sparkled with relief.  "Oh, gods, Kain!  Don't ever scare me like that again!  We all thought you were a goner.  Well, everyone except Rosa and me.  But boy, did you have us worried." Cecil went on and on, rarely stopping for breath in his excitement.  Kain took in his surroundings.  He was back in his own room in Baron, in his own bed.  There was a bandage around his head, indicating he had hit it when he fell. 

            That would certainly account for the headache.  Kain waited patiently for his friend to finish, coming to the understanding that this was the one person he could trust to never leave him.  Cecil would always be there for him, and Kain pledged to do the same for him.  As Cecil went on, Kain caught the name Rosa again and again, and he could only wonder who Cecil was talking about.

            Someone came up behind Cecil, and Kain shifted his gaze to the newcomer—

            And saw Lillith.  His heart skipped a beat and his breath came short as he looked at the living ghost of his beloved.

            At least that was his first thought.  As he regained control of himself, however, he realized the truth.  It was not Lillith. This girl was at least a year younger, putting her at fifteen.  Her face was slightly rounder, still that of a child.  And her eyes, while still alive and sparkling, lacked the fire and fierce determination that Lillith had.  These blue eyes held a resilience of a different nature; but they were not the ones he had loved to wake up to.

            "Kain." 

            The sound of his name called his wandering attention back.

            "This is Rosa Farrell, a white mage in training.  She's the one that put you back together." Cecil winked at Kain.  "You were a real mess, too."

            Kain smirked back, finding a little more strength in his friend's confidence.  "Then she is to be thanked to no end.  Frankly, though, I probably deserved it for being out in the rain so long."  That's what Lillith would say, anyway.

            Rosa shook her head, smiling.  "It really wasn't a big deal.  It was pretty easy, actually.  Think nothing of it.  Although," she added with a joking edge to her voice.  "You're right about deserving it."

            He chortled, and winced when his headache kicked in with a vengeance.  That set Cecil snickering, and Rosa covered her mouth with her hand in polite laughter.  Kain looked at her, and noticed that she had a special beauty all her own.  He knew she could never replace Lillith, but that's not what he wanted.  One could never have too many friends, and he needed friendship more than love right now. 

            With the help of Cecil and Rosa, Kain began the hard road to healing his beaten heart. 

When the morning came, he reported to Baigan, the Captain of Baron's military.  When asked why he wanted to serve as a Dragon Knight, his immediate response was, "I want to be just like my father."  It got him a few raised eyebrows, but he didn't care.  It was the truth, after all.

And somewhere in the mountains Kain had left behind, deep within an abandoned cavern, an egg was hatching.  A sapphire blue dragon crawled from his shell, spreading his wings to dry in the heat of glowing coals.  He raised his head to the heavens, golden eyes glinting with meteor fire.

"I am Bahamut, son of Serath Hamut.  I will avenge my mother, Queen of Dragons, and rule as the true King!"

Wings dry, the dragon powered out of the cave to begin his own road to glory.  But that is another tale, best kept for another time.