PROLOGUE

 

He gripped the white bone gently as his fingers mournfully traced the long contours he had laboriously carved. It had finally come to pass.

 

In the days that followed the corruption, his kind had foreseen the fall of their mighty brothers; but knowing had done nothing to diminish the pain in his heart as the last Great Dragon was slain. He was young then, barely grown, but his youth had not diminished his understanding of the severity of the situation. All that was once light had become dark as yet more magic left the land. Soon, his people would be all that remained of the long lived creatures that the mother had created; and then the nehan—the temporary species—would be alone in a world they could barely comprehend.

 

Sighing softly, he lifted his delicately pointed chin and searched the treetops for understanding. The leaves danced hypnotically in the light breeze and his thoughts consumed him. His people cherished life and they lived for thousands of years, the nehan, whose lives rarely touched a century, should have valued life above all else and yet they seemed more than happy to destroy it. How different they were.

 

‘They are not all so unlike us, Rahen,’ a soft voice responded to his thoughts.

 

‘The few who can see beyond their own needs can never make up for the deeds of the others, Naliad, no matter how much we wish it were so.’ Rahen looked upon the female who had reached into his mind to see what troubled him.

 

‘I am saddened that you choose believe that.’

 

‘Haarglaghaain chose to see only the good in man and it was his downfall.’

 

Sitting by his side, Naliad lightly touched her long fingers to the pale bone and a tear ran down her cheek, her face remaining a mask of serenity. ‘I’ll not argue. They are capable of atrocities but are we so different?’

 

Rahen was unable to conceal his shock at her statement.

 

‘They were unprotected during the corruption, just as our brothers in the east were; and yet the taint that is upon them pales in comparison to the darkness that emerged from our own hearts.’

 

Rahen hung his head shamefully. He harbored no true malice towards the nehan. How could he when so many of their kind had suffered a worse fate at Murbane’s hands.

 

The Mother had tried to protect them. She had given them magic and kept them safe in their woods but there had been no warning of Murbane’s treachery and all those who had been beyond the forest had suffered a fate far worse than that of man. Murbane, twisted by jealousy, had sullied his sister’s creations out of spite. Man, troll, mermaids and even the dwarves in their mountains were targeted and each of them debased in the most malicious act of vengeance the Younger Gods had ever conceived.

 

‘There has been a new foretelling.’ Naliad broached the topic tentatively.

 

‘Of what?’ Rahen asked warily as he turned his attention back to the bone and his tools.

 

‘Of the Breeder of Warriors.’

 

‘Which Breeder? There have been so many,’ Rahen sounded tired and bitter, in a manner that was uncommon to his kind.

 

‘The one that will define the bloodlines and bring forth the Dragonbone Warriors.’

 

Rahen looked up, his usually wide eyes narrowed as he studied Naliad’s youthful face. She looked no older than he though she had seen almost seven centuries more. ‘When?’

 

Naliad tilted her head, her auburn hair falling over her shoulder and concealing her upswept ears. ‘Soon. The Man of Many Lifetimes is nearing his end. The next will see the Breeder rise.’

 

‘Is there still no outcome in sight?’ Rahen asked curiously. The prophets of men seemed to only see the event and rarely the result. The unpredictable nature of the subjects within those visions was most likely to blame. Man was a fickle beast. If Rahen knew nothing else about them, he knew that.

 

‘None. They will call upon us again.’

 

‘And will we respond?

 

‘We have a part to play, though I am not convinced that our involvement will influence the outcome,’ Naliad confessed. ‘Our own seers still contemplate the necessity of it.’

 

Rahen sighed. “Will the conflict ever end? Am I foolish to hope that one day, we will be capable of undoing what has been done by a God?’

 

‘Perhaps,’ Naliad’s voice was lilting and Rahen suspected she was teasing him. ‘But even a fool’s hopes can one day come to pass.’