WindRunner

Owen, Aeden, Thomas, and Alberick sat slightly removed from the troops, chewing slowly on the rations they carried in their saddlebags and sipping from waterskins. Navar and the king’s Agni grazed close by them. Owen’s cheek had stopped bleeding by the end of the battle. Aeden ran her finger down the wound, closing and healing it, leaving a faint scar.

“We need to rest tonight before we move on to Aos Si and the Demons,” Owen said into the silence.

“Agreed,” Thomas and Alberick replied at the same time. A tired smile crossed Thomas’s face.

“As time permits, I would look at the amulet,” Alberick requested.

“Why not now, sire?” Owen twisted around and flipped open the flap of his saddlebag, pulling the wrapped amulet from its bottom and handing it to the king. Alberick took it with care from his hand, slowly removing its covering. He looked at it for long moments.

“This amulet has been touched by Dragon magic.” He raised his eyes from their study and met Owen’s frown and Navar’s piercing gaze. “I have felt this same magic for half my life.” He re-wrapped the amulet and handed it back to Owen. “Keep it safe.”

Aeden looked at the king, speculation in her eyes. “Why do you think a Dragon touched the amulet?”

Owen shoved the amulet back into the saddlebag and fastened the flap shut.

The king pondered Aeden’s question. “A Dragon opened the Rift at the breaking of the Talisman in the waning days of the last Demon war. I can feel the magic of the Rift and the magic of the amulet are bound together. Rift magic haunts us always. We sought to close it for almost a millennium and could not do so. We are not weak. Only the joining of human, Dragon, elven, WindRunner, and Claíomh Solas magic could shroud the Rift and send it away.”