They left the area as quickly as they could without running. Leona’s heart pounded wildly as she thought about Jarael’s reaction if he knew about what happened. He’ll be furious.

“Now,” Tavus said as they came by the abandoned churchyard, he let Nareana down. “That was close.”

Leona sighed, “I’m sorry, Tavus,” she said, “I just couldn’t bear to see children being maltreated.”

“I understand you, Leona,” Tavus replied, leaning against the ten-foot high steel fences. “I’m just worried about what will happen to us if the soldiers come after us. Maybe even charge us of kidnapping! And what will Jarael and Olfragh say about this?”

“I was thinking of that, too,” Leona said, as she tucked a lock of blonde hair behind Nareana’s ear, “But I’m willing to argue this out if I have to! Remember that we’re under Thu’ril’s protection.”

“We can’t be too sure,” Tavus said. Silence came between them for a few minutes.

“You know, the two of you look like sisters,” he commented. Leona smiled back, Nareana went inside the churchyard.

“Nareana, where are you going?” Leona said, turning around.

“Come and see, Shaeryva!” the little girl mused, “I have something to show you.”

Tavus and Leona looked at each other. “Shall we?” Tavus asked. Leona nodded.

“You know, Tavus,” Leona said as they walked down the path overgrowing with unkempt grass and weeds. “I feel that I’m somehow connected to Nareana.”

“How’s that?” Tavus asked, looking down at his boots.

Leona shrugged. “I can’t say myself. But back there at the inn, I felt in my heart that I have to get Nareana out of there – that somehow I needed her.”

“What a peculiar way of thinking,” Tavus said not unkindly. Nareana waved at them from inside the chapel.

It was very dark inside the small building though it was high noon. Elaborate tapestries that depicted various gods and goddesses standing regally hung from the dank grime-strewn walls. Stained glass windows cast colorful iridescent shadows on the broken and dusty wooden benches that lined the chapel in two haphazard rows. Leona looked up at the tapestries into the eyes of the gods which stared into emptiness, a cold chill ran down her spine as Nareana came and took her hand.

“Come, Shaeryva. Look at this!” she said delightedly. Leona followed her.

They stopped in front of a beautiful stained-glass window. A girl with yellow hair sat on a white winged-horse underneath ten stars, an orange dawn was behind her. Leona gasped as her visions suddenly came upon her again.

Screaming, feathers, black dragons…

Leona felt herself collapse into the cold floor. She heard Tavus’ urgent calling, but it was too distant.

Fire, fortress, citadel…

She heard Nareana’s and, surprisingly, Jarael’s voice calling at her. But her hearing was once again muffled and her vision blurred.

Monsters roaring, blinding blue light, the warm touch of skin… SHAERYVA!

Leona woke up with a start, gasping. She found out that it was already night. She looked around unfocusedly. She was in a room she has never seen before. Suddenly, a door opened and somebody came in, a silhouette in the darkness, carrying a lighted candle.

“Finally, you’re awake Leona,” said the person in Jarael’s voice.

“J-Jarael?” she called out weakly, squinting through the darkness. The light came near her enough that she made out Jarael’s face. He dumped a pile of clothes at the foot of her bed.

“What happened a while ago?” she asked sitting up, “at that old chapel?”

“A while ago?” Jarael repeated, “Leona that was three days ago. You collapsed and it seemed impossible for us to wake you up. I was panicking. You felt feverish as well. Olfragh told us to let you sleep it off. He says you might be just shocked at the recent turn of events. But I’ve been keeping an eye on you if it turns out to be something else.”

Three days! Leona though, shock sinking in. I’ve been asleep for three whole days! Where’s Nareana?

“Thank you, Jarael. But the little girl,” Leona said, “Nareana. Where is she?”

“She’s downstairs with Tavus and Olfragh,” Jarael replied. Leona opened her mouth to explain. Jarael silenced her.

“Tavus told me everything that happened in the inn. It was a heroic thing you did. But it’s reckless as well,” Jarael said, he looked sternly at Leona.

“Forgiven, but not forgotten. Keep that in that unbreakable head of yours. Now, get dressed. We’re going to have a talk about Nareana, and Lord Thu’ril has found out where your grandparents might’ve been imprisoned.”

Leona gasped as she remembered her grandparents, and cursed herself severely for forgetting about them. She hurriedly dressed and rushed downstairs.

They were all sitting in Olfragh’s office. Nareana was sleeping on a makeshift bed by the fireplace. Olfragh and Tavus were bent over a piece of parchment that looks like a map. Jarael saw her by the door and motioned for her to come in.

“… The main tunnels are heavily guarded,” Olfragh was saying, he looked up and beamed as he saw Leona.

“Leona,” he said, “you’re finally awake. Jarael mentioned to me about your grandparents’ abduction. Luckily I happen to know the last possible place that Ramadak could’ve taken them.”

“Where are they then?” Leona asked, seating herself beside Tavus.

“The ancient fortress of Neizagaard,” Olfragh announced, spreading his great hands across the map. “A seemingly abandoned fortification several leagues from the mainland, Ramadak have used this castle ever since he ascended to the throne of Ramorgra. This is where he keeps all his most dangerous enemies since time immemorial. No doubt he’ll try to lead you there, right into his outstretched arms, ready to grab you once you set foot inside its depraved halls.”

Leona swallowed. A hard lump formed in her throat and she felt as if her gut was twisting inside her from the tension and excitement that she felt that she was close to finding her grandparents again.

“Do we have a chance of getting inside it without Ramadak noticing?” she asked, as she surveyed the illustration of the castle’s interior on the piece of parchment.

“If there ever was, it wouldn’t be easy. It’s possible but it’s very perilous. Good thing there are series of tunnels dug underneath the fortress by rebels through the years. And that’s where we’re going,” Olfragh traced their path, explaining things at every corner, and finally he tapped somewhere at the heart of the castle.

“That is where we want to be: the prison several miles below the surface.”

Leona felt nervous. “But what if we get caught? Isn’t it against the laws to break in prisons?”

“Don’t you want to see your grandparents again, Leona?” Tavus said, “And we have nothing to be afraid of breaking the law. Remember that it’s Ramadak who did wrong to you. This way is better than knocking on Ramadak’s door and asking him politely.”

“You thought otherwise a few days ago,” Leona reminded.

“Well after I saw what Prince Demvross did, I can’t help but to realize the King’s evil deeds, right?”

“Quit bickering, the two of you,” Olfragh reprimanded, Jarael smirked.

“We’ll have to prepare well for this journey. It’s either we come out of the fortress alive with your grandparents, Leona, or we don’t come out at all. Which mean imminent destruction of Ramorgra, of course but –,” Leona cut Olfragh off with a glare.

“Please don’t say that, sir Olfragh,” Leona said, hands feeling clammy.

Leona and the others stayed in Faimeh for almost a month preparing for their descent into Neizagaard. In that time, Olfragh took over Jarael in teaching Leona swordplay and archery. Jarael continued to teach Leona about magic. At the same time they reviewed their tactics and routes in the dungeons of Neizagaard until everybody memorized it without the map.

All the while Tavus practiced smithing in Olfragh’s shop as his assistant and sometimes made weapons and ran errands for Olfragh’s customers. Nareana usually watched him as he worked.

After a few broken bones, loose bolts of lightning, innumerable bruises, dozens of missed targets, endless complaining, and countless sparring sessions, Leona finally proved herself fit enough to go into the unknown labyrinths of Neizagaard: successfully winning over her sparring lessons with Olfragh and Jarael, shooting three arrows at the same time right on target, and channeling her magic with ease.

“Let’s have another round of that, shall we?” Olfragh announced panting, yet clearly pleased of Leona’s progress as they sparred in his backyard. Leona swirled the sword in her hand.

“Are swords really this heavy?” she asked, studying the cross guard of the saber she was holding, “I’m beginning to get used to the training swords we had.”

“You won’t be using training swords in real battle, Leona,” Jarael said from behind her. Leona nodded, tensing as she prepared to attack Olfragh again.

“By the way,” Olfragh said, as Leona started to circle him again.

“Yes?” Leona said, not taking her eyes off her opponent.

“We have a little present for you when we finish,” Olfragh replied, smiling. Leona lunged at him and he quickly blocked the attack, sending a shower of sparks as metal hit metal with a sharp clang.

“Whatever for?” Leona asked, mildly surprised, withdrawing from her attack and searching Olfragh for a possible opening.

“Tavus told me that something special happens on this very day,” Olfragh replied as he took the offensive, twisting his body in such a speed even Leona was surprised at, considering his age and considerable body mass. Leona parried the blow as the blade almost sliced into her neck. She ducked as Olfragh attacked again. Instead, she resorted to kicking at his legs while crouching on the ground. Olfragh lost his balance and toppled over; Leona thrust the blade a few inches from his nose, and the session was over.

Laughing, Leona held out her hand to help the old god up. Olfragh clapped her on the shoulder.

“Well done, very well done!” he mused, thoroughly satisfied of Leona’s performance, “such a marvelous feat for a young woman.”

The last two words hit Leona like a kick to the stomach.

Nothing could be more obvious!

“I’ve been so engrossed in our training and in finding grandma and grandpa that I forgot about it myself!” Leona said. Olfragh and Jarael smiled at her widely.

“Many happy returns of the day, Leona,” Jarael said with outstretched arms. He moved towards Leona and hugged her tightly.

I’m eighteen, she thought, nonplussedat the idea herself. In Haikhan, I’m considered a woman already…

Nareana burst out of the house and rushed to Leona hugging her tightly.

“Many happy returns, Shaeryva!” she twittered like a little bird. Olfragh raised an eyebrow and looked meaningfully at Jarael, the latter shrugged.

“Thank you, Nareana,” Leona said, picking the girl up and carrying her in her arms.

“Tavus has a gift for you,” Nareana said, beaming. Leona frowned slightly.

“Really now?” she said. Nareana nodded her head eagerly.

Just then Tavus came out of the house, a long bundle covered in a cloth and twine rested on his arms.

He held it out to Leona and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I hope you like it,” he said. Leona smiled back at him, appreciation shone on her face.

“Open it, then!” Olfragh said enthusiastically. Nareana hopped off Leona’s arms to give her space.

Leona carefully undid the twine that bound the parcel together, then she removed the cloth wrapping, then she gasped.

“Tavus, this is beautiful,” she said breathlessly. She slid the sword from its tooled black-leather scabbard and marveled at the golden blade that projected from a silver hilt with a pommel that looked like a horse’s head.

The magnificent weapon shone brilliantly in the morning sun. Mouth still hanging open, Leona turned to Tavus and flung her arms around his neck.

“Tavus, thank you so much!” she said, gripping him tighter. Tavus flushed.

“Everybody contributed to the making of that sword,” he said, keeping his head down as Leona let go of him.

“Tavus made the sword, obviously,” Olfragh said, clapping his student on the shoulder, “I blessed it, Jarael put a spell on it that makes it lighter but all the more powerful. Nareana here,” he paused, “gave it a very fitting name.”

The look on Olfragh’s face made him look the wise and powerful god he is, even for only a moment.

“I called it the Rubida Nurthia!” Nareana chimed. Leona blanked.

“Wow, that’s beautiful,” she said slowly, looking at Jarael to translate it for her.

“Rubida Nurthia,” he repeated, “The Golden Dawn.”

Olfragh smiled all the more wider, “A very fitting name, indeed.”