"In the space between flames and shadows, dreams and wakefulness, the hidden path to your true self can be found."
—Shaman Saphir Fatewever
Iwatched the flames casting flickering shadows on the cave walls, sometimes looking like dragons soaring through the skies and sometimes like goats climbing a steep mountainside. My imagination was probably influenced by the hallucinations I'd experienced on the trek, or perhaps I was still hallucinating, but at least these weren't as confusing as the strange symbols I'd seen in the storm.
I'd almost forgotten about them when the path had crumbled and I'd nearly lost my best friend. I don't think I'd been that scared since the Shedun attack on my old village five years ago.The difference was that this time, I hadn't found that quiet zone to envelop myself in, maybe because, unlike that time, there had been nothing I could do.
I'd thought that killing had been the worst experience of my life, but the storm taught me that helplessness was even worse.
I never wanted to feel like that again, but it was unavoidable that I would.
"I'll start," Morek said loudly enough to pull me out of my thoughts. "Once upon a time, there was a mountain goat who wanted to be a dragon."
"Was he a special kind of goat?" Shovia asked from where she sat between him and Codric. "Or just an ordinary one with delusions of grandeur?"
"The most ordinary goat you can imagine," Morek said. "But he had extraordinary dreams."
"Ah, dreams." Shovia lifted her eyes to the ceiling. "I'll have interesting ones tonight."
I shifted closer to the fire, pulling my knees to my chest and wrapping my arms around them. It was warmer in the cave than outside, and the fire was helping, but it was still drakking cold, and I debated between using my sleeping bag as a cushion for my bottom or as a blanket.
"Every day, he watched the dragons soar overhead," Morek continued. "And every night, he practiced jumping from rock to rock, imagining that he was flying."
"Poor deluded creature," Codric said. "Everyone knows goats can't fly."
"Ah, but this goat didn't know that." Morek grinned. "Or maybe he knew but didn't care. Everyone is entitled to their dreams, as absurd as they might be."
Was Morek poking fun at Alar and Codric and their dream of becoming dragon riders? Or was it self-deprecating humor, mocking his own dreams?
I cast a quick glance at Alar, who sat across the fire from me. The flames painted his features in warm gold, softening the sharp angles of his face. He looked different here—more relaxed, more approachable.
"So, what did the goat do?" someone asked.
"He climbed," Morek said. "Higher and higher each day, convinced that if he could just get high enough, he'd be able to fly like the dragons."
"This isn't going to end well, is it?" Shovia leaned forward, her face glowing in the firelight.
"That depends on your perspective." Morek waved his hand in an inviting arc. "Would anyone like to continue the tale?"
"The goat reached the highest peak," Alar said, surprising me. "But when he looked down, he realized how far he'd climbed and panicked."
Our eyes met across the fire, and something in his gaze made me think he wasn't just talking about the goat. He'd figured out my fear of heights.
"Poor thing," I said, keeping my voice steady. "Sometimes, we don't realize what we're getting into until it's too late."
"Indeed." Alar's eyes held my gaze for a moment longer before he looked away. "But sometimes what seems like a terrible mistake leads us to exactly where we need to be."
"The goat was stuck," Codric picked up the story. "Too scared to climb down, too scared to jump. But then he heard wingbeats approaching."
My mind flashed to the dark-eyed rider and his obsidian dragon from five years ago. The memory was so vivid that for a moment, I could smell the acrid scent of dragfire and feel the ground trembling beneath the massive taloned feet.
"A dragon landed beside him," Shovia continued. "But instead of eating him, which would have been the sensible thing to do, the dragon asked him why he had climbed so high."
"And the goat, being an honest creature," Morek jumped back in, "admitted his dream of flying like a dragon."
"The dragon must have found that amusing," I said.
Alar smiled. "Or admirable. It takes courage to pursue impossible dreams."
