“Are you connected to the dragon?” Laric asked.
This brought a smile to the man’s lips. “Did you think that I would just travel with a dragon I was not connected to?”
“Why can I feel a connection to the dragon?”
The man’s eyes widened. “How do you feel a connection? What is it?”
Laric didn’t know how much he wanted to admit, but there was definitely something to what he was doing that he could feel. That had to matter in some way.
“I can feel… potential.”
That was the truth, but he didn’t quite know how it was that he was able to pick up on anything. Not when it came to this kind of power. There was simply a sense of energy that seemed to come from his connection to Sashaak that he was able to pick up on. That seemed to linger within him, making it much more obvious about what it was that was starting to build inside him and around him.
The room fell quiet.
“What’s your name?” the man finally said.
Laric let out a relieved sigh. It seemed as if he was making some headway, though at this point, he wasn’t sure if that was true or not.
“Laric Mason.”
The man regarded him for a long moment. “Mason.”
Laric nodded.
With every passing second, he had increased hope that maybe the man would know something about him and might even be able to help him learn more about who he was and where he had come from. Wasn’t that what he wanted, after all? Laric couldn’t help but feel as if that was not only what he wanted, but what he needed.
“And you claim that she is family?”
Laric nodded. “My grandmother.”
“How old are you?”
Laric debated how much he wanted to share, but he thought that doing so might provide him with more information, and maybe even enough to help him get the answers that he wanted.
“I’m sixteen.”
The man frowned. “Sixteen. And how long have you known about your potential?”
“Not long,” Laric admitted.
“Why not?”
“Well, I suppose just because I didn’t know that I had any sort of potential,” Laric said. “It’s not as if I have been running around using a connection to the dragons.”
The man snorted. “There’s the steel that I keep talking about.”
“And I’ve been telling you that I don’t care about it.”
“It doesn’t matter what you care about. All that matters is what is. And you have it. At least, you’re showing evidence of it. Whether or not you will continue to have it is another matter altogether.” His smile curled even more. “My name is Dizarn Oran.”
He hesitated, and it seemed to Laric that he did so with a particular purpose. Almost as if he half expected Laric to recognize his name, which he didn’t.
When Laric didn’t say anything, the man just grunted. “I suppose it is too much to expect that you would have known that name. It might’ve been easier if you did.”
He glanced behind him, and the figures who had come with him moved closer.
“These are my children,” Dizarn said.
One of the figures stepped forward, a boy who was about five years or so older than Laric. He had shaggy brown hair hidden beneath the hood of his cloak, and the eyes that stared out at Laric had the same reflective glow that he had seen from Dizarn.
“This is Malik. And this is my daughter, Janear.”
Janear had to be the same age as Laric. She was petite, but when she looked at Laric, there was a hatred in her eyes as she glowered at him.
“We came because there was a call,” Dizarn said. “And I thought that it was…” He shook his head. “I suppose it doesn’t really matter what I thought it was. When I got here, I sensed the familiarity of this place. I knew it, because I knew her dragon.”
“You did?” Laric asked.
“I knew her dragon, and I knew the sense of her dragon. I can still feel it now.”
There was a hard edge to his stare as he watched Laric. Was he telling the truth?
“Where did it go?” Dizarn asked. “You obviously know what I’m talking about. I can see it in your eyes. You’re looking around as if you are trying to make it seem as if you’re not familiar with it, but the expression on your face, that lingering look is one that tells me you know it. So do tell.”
“The glyphs are gone,” Laric said.
“I can see that,” Dizarn said. “But there the memory remains.” He flicked his fingers, and there was another surge of magic.
