Chapter 1064 — The Secrets of the Elements
Blade of Dawn · Page 1 of 4
Spring had already come to the northern lands, but for Dragonrest Keep, perched atop the mountain peaks, the ceaseless cold wind remained the governing theme—wind from the direction of the coastline and wind stirred up by the surging air currents among the mountains blew without pause against that ancient fortress of hewn stone, and between its outer galleries and towering ramparts the howling never rested, day or night.
Great braziers burned in the gallery between the castle's inner and outer courts, and the energy shields rising between the braziers kept out the wind of the outer gallery—yet still the howling came through the barriers from time to time. Sir Gorosh Hikkel stood between two enormous stone pillars, gazing through the open gallery toward the outer courtyard, where Dragonblood warriors in full armor stood erect in the cold wind, motionless as statues.
The mighty constitution of the dragonkin made them indifferent to such trifling mountain winds, and this was one of the things the people who lived on this land were proudest of in their own bloodline.
Footsteps sounded nearby; Sir Gorosh turned his head and saw Sir Kessimir, his black hair cropped short, come to his side. He gave the other man a slight nod, and the latter, returning the salute, remarked offhandedly: "The Grand Duke says the winds of Tarongde are colder and fiercer than here... I find it somewhat hard to imagine such a place."
"Nor can I," said Sir Gorosh. "We dragonkin, from the moment of birth, have never gone north, nor been permitted to learn anything about what lies beyond the northern sea... In this, you and I are the same."
Sir Kessimir fell silent for a time, and only after several seconds of quiet did he suddenly say: "What do you think the people of the Duchy will do when they learn the truth? Will they accept this 'arrangement' that has lasted a million years—and our present 'mother race'?"
"...I fear we cannot predict with any precision; there are too many variables behind this matter," Gorosh shook his head. "Even I myself wandered in confusion for a long time after learning everything. My feelings toward the primal dragons are... complicated. On one hand, with the civilization of Tarongde doomed to fall, exiling the 'dragonkin' from their homeland and forbidding their return was a way of protecting us—precisely because of that protection, we need not face the final war, need not become cold corpses on that northern wasteland. But on the other hand... that protection was forced upon us, and in the coldest, most merciless manner. Of course, I can accept it—but the Duchy's people number in the millions, and there must be many who cannot."
"No one likes a fate that has been arranged for them—least of all dragonkin," Kessimir smiled faintly. "The winds of these mountains are too hard and cold; they have made the dragonkin who live here a breed as hard and cold as the stone itself. As I see it, it will take a great deal of effort before we can bring the people to gradually accept the truth of Tarongde..."
The knight had spoken barely half his piece when footsteps came from the side, and a disdainful woman's voice rang out: "As I see it, all this fretting is sheer mawkishness."
"Lady Ashalena," Sir Kessimir looked toward the sound and saw a red-haired woman approaching at an unhurried pace, her hair loose over her shoulders. He nodded with a smile and greeted her: "Your judgments are as incisive as ever."