dragon. Everywhere you walked those blue eyes watched you. Zorc often wondered if those eyes were guarding you from the secrets in the Eye or guarding the secrets in the Eye from you.
The crystal, formed at the beginning of magical times, had been passed down to each Calvet, the wizard director, as a stark reminder of how powerful the Quy could be. Until the Wizard War the Silver Eye was just one more mystery of the Alcazar. Now he knew its purpose. The Silver Eye held the goodness of the Quy. Zorc liked to think of it as holding part of magic’s soul, but although the Eye contained goodness that goodness could be fatal and needed to be feared.
To his knowledge he was the only wizard who had ever seen the Silver Eye in use, even if that use was superficial. Zorc only used the crystal to speak with the mind inside. He would never unlock the Silver Eye’s true power.
As Zorc approached the Eye, he opened his mind and whispered Krov’s name. The crystal immediately began to glow with a bright silver light, transforming the cryptic cave into a crystal palace.
“It’s time, Krov.”
“Yes, it’s time,” his old master’s voice echoed from the ball. Although it was Krov’s voice it contained none of Krov’s emotion. The voice was monotone, dull and lifeless. It had disturbed Zorc when he had first heard it, but he had grown numb to it years ago.
Zorc paused, trying to phrase his question carefully. The crystal didn’t offer any information on its own accord. You had to ask the right questions for it to answer, and if you asked the right questions in the wrong way it could lead you off on a divergent path. Zorc had learned to think before he spoke. It saved time.
“The Chosen has rebirthed the power?”
“Yes.”
“How did he rebirth it?”
“His love had great need.”
“I see,” Zorc replied, contemplating his next question. The crystal pulsated with life, patiently waiting for Zorc to continue.
“The dragon awakened his need?”
“Yes.”
Zorc replayed the prophecy in his mind. “Was Barracus the traitor?”
“You know that, Zorc.”
Zorc waved his hands in frustration at the crystal’s reprimand. “Yes, I know. I’m the One?”
“You know that as well.”
“We were the ones?”
“Yes.”
“Dragons are the thorn?”
“No.”
Zorc froze with mouth agape. Dragons weren’t the thorn? After three hundred ninety-eight years the thorn had changed? Zorc stared at the Silver Eye, mind racing. On multiple occasions Galor had dreamed of a silver dragon crashing through the Eye of the Dragon, bellowing a warning and bringing the darkness. They had discussed it amongst themselves and with the crystal. Silver dragons had been destroyed years ago. When Galor had seen the rebirth of silver dragons they were sure to be the prophecy’s thorn. Although silver dragons didn’t use magic they possessed magical traits that could create magic, powerful magic, and if silver dragons were to come back into existence…
What other explanation could there be? It was the only one that made any sense, and Krov had agreed – until now.
Zorc stepped closer, hoping he had misunderstood. “Are dragons the thorn, Krov?”
“No.”
“Krov, you’ve agreed with me for almost four centuries. Now you tell me dragons aren’t the thorn?”
“Dragons aren’t the thorn.”
“How can you agree one day and not the next?” Zorc’s voice rose in a frenzy.
“Because I know differently now.”
Zorc had based all his theories on dragons being the thorn. From those theories he had decided what the darkness could be. Now all those theories were wrong and he was out of time. Panic swelled in his chest. He had been assigned the task of helping the Chosen and he may have failed before he had even begun. No. He couldn’t think that way. He was the Chosen’s only chance. Zorc studied the crystal. Krov said he knew differently now.
“Krov, do you mean you’ve been giving me your best guess all these
The crystal, formed at the beginning of magical times, had been passed down to each Calvet, the wizard director, as a stark reminder of how powerful the Quy could be. Until the Wizard War the Silver Eye was just one more mystery of the Alcazar. Now he knew its purpose. The Silver Eye held the goodness of the Quy. Zorc liked to think of it as holding part of magic’s soul, but although the Eye contained goodness that goodness could be fatal and needed to be feared.
To his knowledge he was the only wizard who had ever seen the Silver Eye in use, even if that use was superficial. Zorc only used the crystal to speak with the mind inside. He would never unlock the Silver Eye’s true power.
As Zorc approached the Eye, he opened his mind and whispered Krov’s name. The crystal immediately began to glow with a bright silver light, transforming the cryptic cave into a crystal palace.
“It’s time, Krov.”
“Yes, it’s time,” his old master’s voice echoed from the ball. Although it was Krov’s voice it contained none of Krov’s emotion. The voice was monotone, dull and lifeless. It had disturbed Zorc when he had first heard it, but he had grown numb to it years ago.
Zorc paused, trying to phrase his question carefully. The crystal didn’t offer any information on its own accord. You had to ask the right questions for it to answer, and if you asked the right questions in the wrong way it could lead you off on a divergent path. Zorc had learned to think before he spoke. It saved time.
“The Chosen has rebirthed the power?”
“Yes.”
“How did he rebirth it?”
“His love had great need.”
“I see,” Zorc replied, contemplating his next question. The crystal pulsated with life, patiently waiting for Zorc to continue.
“The dragon awakened his need?”
“Yes.”
Zorc replayed the prophecy in his mind. “Was Barracus the traitor?”
“You know that, Zorc.”
Zorc waved his hands in frustration at the crystal’s reprimand. “Yes, I know. I’m the One?”
“You know that as well.”
“We were the ones?”
“Yes.”
“Dragons are the thorn?”
“No.”
Zorc froze with mouth agape. Dragons weren’t the thorn? After three hundred ninety-eight years the thorn had changed? Zorc stared at the Silver Eye, mind racing. On multiple occasions Galor had dreamed of a silver dragon crashing through the Eye of the Dragon, bellowing a warning and bringing the darkness. They had discussed it amongst themselves and with the crystal. Silver dragons had been destroyed years ago. When Galor had seen the rebirth of silver dragons they were sure to be the prophecy’s thorn. Although silver dragons didn’t use magic they possessed magical traits that could create magic, powerful magic, and if silver dragons were to come back into existence…
What other explanation could there be? It was the only one that made any sense, and Krov had agreed – until now.
Zorc stepped closer, hoping he had misunderstood. “Are dragons the thorn, Krov?”
“No.”
“Krov, you’ve agreed with me for almost four centuries. Now you tell me dragons aren’t the thorn?”
“Dragons aren’t the thorn.”
“How can you agree one day and not the next?” Zorc’s voice rose in a frenzy.
“Because I know differently now.”
Zorc had based all his theories on dragons being the thorn. From those theories he had decided what the darkness could be. Now all those theories were wrong and he was out of time. Panic swelled in his chest. He had been assigned the task of helping the Chosen and he may have failed before he had even begun. No. He couldn’t think that way. He was the Chosen’s only chance. Zorc studied the crystal. Krov said he knew differently now.
“Krov, do you mean you’ve been giving me your best guess all these
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