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The shepherd nodded and looked away. “Aye.”

“Tell me more,” Loric said.

“Ever since Kelvion drank of the Enchanted River, he has had visions and dreams,”

Kelivoras informed his guests. “His dreams are windows into the future, but they come at a cost.”

Loric prompted the shepherd, “Tell me of this cost. I would hear this, as it affects me too.”

“Whenever anything upsets Kelvion,” Kelivoras shared, “he is overcome by magical fits like the one he had today.”

“So starting magical fires is a regular occurrence for young Kelvion,” Loric proposed.

“The attacks don’t always take the shape of fire,” Kelivoras offered reluctantly. “Sometimes they come as a whirlwind or some other calamity....”

Loric listened with horror, as Warnyck filled in the blank, proposing, “Like the time Kelvey’s magic hurt someone.”

Kelivoras did not respond. He simply buried his face in his arms and sobbed. That was answer enough for Loric, but Warnyck pressed the man for a response. “This may be difficult for you, but we must know more about your boy’s condition if you expect us to take him with us.”

“We lived near Riverbluff at the time,” Kelivoras began slowly. “Kelvey used to play with his sister, Udelena, and her friend, Morena. Apparently, the girls did something to upset Kelvion and he had one of his fits. Witnesses claimed that a wheel fell from a passing wagon. It tumbled out of control.... It hit both girls and struck the shop where they were standing.”

Loric watched in silence as a huge tear pooled atop the shepherd’s quivering cheek. It hung there as Kelivoras delivered the bitter ending, saying, “The driver and Morena were badly injured and.... my precious Udelena was killed.” He sniffled his way through remaining details.

“After that, the townsfolk were dreadfully afraid of Kelvion, so we left our home, lest we should lose our boy to hateful murderers.”

Loric ignored yet another request to take Kelvion to Nimshar. He was lost in his own

thoughts, considering the significance of his dream. After all, there was an established bond between him and Kelvion in the future of his vision. Loric had no desire to have a six-year-old traipsing along behind him as he ventured into perils of Dimwood Forest, but his instincts told him to trust his dream.

A hand on Loric’s shoulder awakened him to the fact that Warnyck wished to have private counsel with his fellow adventurers. Loric willingly moved his feet until he and his friends were ten paces from Kelivoras. One glance at Warnyck assured Loric of the outburst to come.

“I hope you are not going to consider this,” the scout began. Upon seeing that Loric had already begun to do just that, Warnyck erupted, “This is madness! Just imagine the pleasure of dodging little Kelvey’s whirlwinds and fires while we fight off denizens of Dimwood. Or better yet-”

Loric stopped his friend’s tirade with an open palm. “But you cannot see what I have seen, nor should I share it, because I have doubts as to its meaning,” he argued. Loric searched each blank face and concluded that he had utterly baffled his companions, so he added, “One day this boy’s curse may become a wondrous gift.”

“And if it does not?” questioned Marblin.

“I am willing to risk related consequences, because I may be afflicted by the same curse,”

Loric reminded his companions. “If you fear the boy, you should fear me as well, because I too have partaken of the dragon water.”

“You have had no tantrum to spark a magical blaze, and neither have you caused any other disasters,” Warnyck argued.

“Nay, I have not,” Loric conceded. “However, nothing has upset me since I swallowed

tainted water. Perhaps my own curse will not become evident until I am angry or afraid. That is the risk all of you must face to travel with me.”

Each member of the party paused to ponder Loric’s observation. Marblin chewed his

fingernails in fright of Dimwood and Kelvion, and now Loric. Barag looked faraway and thoughtful. Warnyck showed visible apprehension toward this plan. He stared at Loric, questioning him with his eyes.

The scout shared his key remaining doubt, “The boy lacks an adult’s self-control, and thus, he is more prone to feel anxiety in the wild.”

Loric quickly dispelled that concern. “A young boy often views danger as adventure, for he does not have an adult’s good judgment.”

Barag spoke unexpectedly to say, “We must find this Nimshar character for Loric.”

Everyone looked at the big man, who seldom spoke. He went on, “Whether he can help Loric fulfill his quest or not, he may be able to provide remedy for the taint of the curse upon him. If he can help Loric, mayhap he can help this shepherd boy.”

Gently nodding heads of Marblin and Warnyck informed Loric that discussion was at its end. “It is decided. We will seek out this Nimshar character, and we will take Kelvion with us.”

“I don’t like it,” Marblin remarked. “Dimwood, spirits and now Nimshar the Insane!” he barked. “According to legend, he is a raving lunatic.”

Kelivoras chuckled at the Moonwatcher’s words. “Don’t judge Nimshar by legends,” the

shepherd cautioned him. “You may find that he is different from what you have heard.”

Marblin fell into sullen silence.

“So?” Kelivoras questioned. “Have you reached your decision?”

“We have,” Loric answered.

“We will do this thing that you have asked,” Warnyck affirmed.

Kelivoras smiled and thanked his guests.

Loric did not return the expression as he asked, “How do you intend to tell the boy that you are sending him away with four strangers?”

“I would tell him that I have found an apprenticeship for him,” Kelivoras began. “Supposing you never find the old sorcerer, I was hoping-”

“Yes,” Loric answered, without making the man ask him. “I will take the boy to squire if it becomes necessary--if Nimshar will not have him as his pupil.”

Kelivoras showed relief. “Thank you, Sir Loric. You honor me more than I deserve. Please,”

he continued, “make a list of provisions you’ll need to see you through Dimwood Forest. My wife and I will see to everything. We’ll prepare our son to join you as well.”

****

The companions did not wait for morning to set off. Beledon was bleeding and there was

only one way to save her from her lords. They had to complete Sir Palendar’s quest and select a nobleman worthy of bearing the blade that would make him king. That was ever in Loric’s mind as he and his companions loaded provisions onto Kelivoras’ boat, which only survived Kelvey’s fire because it was full of water during the blaze. If all went as planned, they would pass by Riverbluff during the night, so angry townsfolk would not recognize Kelvion and try to harm him.

Kelvion said goodbye to his folks.

“You understand why you need to go, don’t you?” asked Kelivoras.

Kelvion calmly replied, “Because you and mother are afraid of me, like everyone else.” The boy patted his father on the shoulder and assured him, “I understand why you’re scared of me. I scare myself, sometimes.”

Udelia confessed, “Sometimes your fits frighten us, Kelvey, but these good soldiers are going to try to find a nice man, who can make your spells stop. Someday you will not have to be afraid anymore, and neither will we.” She hugged the boy to her chest and said, “I love you very much.”

“I love you too,” Kelvey said in tears.

Kelivoras roughed up his son’s hair with his palm, pulled him close and said, “You can come home as soon as you are ready, Kelvey.”

Kelvion nodded his understanding and moved to the boat. Loric could not help but notice the lad’s long face as Barag pushed the heavy-laden craft into the darkening waters of the Enchanted River. He quietly offered, “If we were not forced to leave people and places we love behind us, for whom or to where, would we long to return? In truth, the returning is our goal and our greatest joy. But we cannot have such a prize without a departure and a journey that will carry us away to strange places and new adventures.”

Kelvion turned his pools of fire on Loric and asked, “Do you miss your home and family?”

The pain of the question caused the knight to clutch at his breast, as if a dart had pierced his heart. He swallowed hard and shared, “I miss my father and mother--and the cottage too--but someday I will return to dear Taeglin.” That was a promise.

All was quiet on the boat for some time after that. Loric let his eyes wander from one companion to another, starting with Kelvion. The boy must have been satisfied with the answer to his question. He curled into a tight ball, buried his face in the crook of his arm and went to sleep. Marblin was lying on his back beside Loric. The old guardsmen had already let enough saw-like snores out of his gaping mouth to cut down every tree in Riverwood. Warnyck, who sat in the back with a pole across his knees, had begun his silent nocturnal vigil in earnest. Barag was in front, helping the scout guide the vessel down the treacherous waterway, ever watchful for lights along the shore. Loric instructed his navigators to keep north. They were to awaken him once they reached the outskirts of Riverbluff.

Knowing that capable men were in control of the craft, and still feeling spent due the river’s evil enchantment upon him, Loric turned onto his side. He closed his eyes, which were burning to the point of provoking tears. There he lay, listening to the water song as it echoed against stony hills all around him, while rushing currents swept the boat and its passengers downriver.

The sun finally dropped below the horizon. Its last lingering light faded away. Like that orange ball, the Knight of Shimmermir and Taeglin also took his rest.

****

Loric had dreams of a dragon pedestal. It held an ancient tome with a worn, charred cover and stains that looked like.... He shuddered and pushed the thought away. The worst of his nightmare included bones of men, which walked like living beings.

****

Loric awoke with Warnyck holding him down. The scout let out a low growl, saying, “Wake

up! Wake up, before everyone in Riverbluff hears us coming.” Loric fell silent and relaxed.

“That must have been some nightmare,” Warnyck remarked.

All Loric could do was shake off his dreadful chill and grunt, which meant,
Yes.

Loric shifted his eyes over his companions. They were in the same places they had been when he had gone to sleep. Everyone, except Warnyck, who was still hovering over his leader and was now, Loric noticed for the first time, staring at him in wide-eyed curiosity.

“Kings and queens!” Warnyck whispered in exclamation. He sat there expressionless,

dumbfounded. That continued for a terribly long duration.

When Warnyck’s behavior lasted an intolerable length of time, Loric shook him and asked,

“What is wrong with you? Why are you looking at me that way?”

“I might ask the same of you, Loric,” answered Warnyck. He went on uncertainly, sharing,

“Your eyes have changed.”

“How so?” Loric asked. He had slept the burning sensation away, and his vision was the sharpest it had been since his plunge into the Enchanted River. Doubt stripped him naked.

Warnyck uneasily answered, “They.... well.... they are burning. They are burning with fire....

like the boy’s.”

“So it begins,” Loric said evenly. He was relieved to know, but anxious for changes to come.
I see my world as a dragon would see it,
he realized, grasping after advantages to his curse.

Warnyck nodded.

“My vision is clear tonight,” Loric shared.

“How clear?” Warnyck questioned.

“I see everything.”

“I could use night sight,” Warnyck decided.

“You know what I had to do to become as I am, friend scout.”

Warnyck drew a deep breath, sighed as though expelling his last living breath and

murmured, “Now that you bring it up, my vision is perfect the way it is.”

Loric snickered. “I thought you would say that.”

Warnyck pointed southward. Loric tracked the invisible path of his friend’s extended digit to heights above the riverbank. There were few lamps aglow at that late hour, but the steady lighting bore no resemblance to flickering campfires. There could be no mistake. That was Riverbluff. Once they glided into the shadows to the east, they could rest easy for a time.

“Stay as low as possible,” Loric advised Warnyck in a hushed voice. He felt foolish as soon as he spoke, because Warnyck already lay hidden behind the hull.

Barag hunched down as much as his hulking form would allow him to do, silently waiting for the current to pull the little craft out of the light and into the canopy of darkness beyond Riverbluff. Three wakeful travelers regretted that they could not stop to wet their mouths in those taverns above them, but they had no other alternative than to bypass the promise of foamy tankards. People within those low earthen walls feared Kelvion. The companions could not put the boy at risk, even for a drink.

Loric helped ease the pain of sacrifice when he offered to take his turn at watch. Warnyck gladly accepted. The knight nudged Marblin with the toe of his boot, causing him to choke on his snores. When the old Moonwatcher finally gained control over his cough, Loric motioned for him to take Barag’s place, whereupon the bulky soldier slumped down in the boat and fell asleep.

“Great Donigan!” the Moonwatcher proclaimed. “You have eyes like the boy,” he gasped, his own irises darting nervously as he shied away from his friend.

Loric swallowed his reply and nodded. He did not want to talk about it. Marblin would get used to the change in the time of his choosing.

Hours staggered by at a sluggish rate, with only noises of water creatures to keep Loric and Marblin company. They came upon a particularly rocky section of the course, where the river became hazardous to boat and passengers. The men directing the craft devoted their collective focus to poling through danger.

Loric was the first to see heavy cloud cover in the predawn sky. He stabbed his finger upward and called, “We must find suitable ground for a landing and seek out what shelter we may.”

The Moonwatcher was quick to agree, “Yes. If that storm comes upon us while we’re