The Dream Keeper's Dragon

28. The Vial

The Keeper's grounds were dark beneath the smoky clouds. Rough winds sent Aurelie's hair tangling around her neck and face. She tugged the strands behind her ear and wrapped her arms around her chest—and to prickled against her ankles.

"Do you mind changing the weather? Marcus wants the sun, you see?" the Keeper asked, with his back to her. He was looking at the ocean waves, foaming to the shore.

Marcus' fur was tabby for the day. That's how the Keeper knew, she supposed. The cat circled the Keeper's leg with his tail that fought the wind to stay upright.

Aurelie gave the Keeper a skeptical look. "I can try," she said cautiously and closed her eyes, imagining a clear sunny sky, all the while expecting the Keeper to start laughing at her for believing him. When she opened her eyes, the grey clouds cleared, and the winds calmed. She frowned at the sudden change, having not expected it at all.

"How did I..." She lifted her arms in surrender.

"It's yours now, the realm. You can do whatever you want here, and it'll obey. Even fly! Queen Elsbeth used it to eat as much cake as she could without getting fat. The trouble is, she did that in her own realm too, and well," he extended his arms around his torso to indicate the queen's size.

"Why the sudden visit?" he asked. "Was there danger?"

Marcus lay on his side, then turned onto his back, and rolled in the sand.

"Yes, but I created it," she replied.

The Keeper raised a bushy, grey brow. "What did you do?"

"It was stupid," Aurelie looked down at her hands, shaking her head. "I was angry at my fire, and I let it get out of control. The people at the inn tried to stop it," she continued, and pressed her hands hard against her face, "but the magic clung to me so fiercely that they couldn't put it out. They kept shouting at me to let it go . . . but I didn't know how and there's no one to teach me."

"You have not connected to it then," he said.

"Connect with it? Have you connected to water, air? How am I meant to connect with fire? Oh wait, I did connect to it," she said, fast-paced and irritated, extending her arms to show him her burns.

The Keeper's eyes swept past her burns. "You connect to air each time you take a breath, to water each time you let it wash your skin or enter your body. Connecting with fire is far easier because it is yours. You create it. It would help if you let it flow through you, do not force it. It is a part of you, you do not force your lungs to breathe or your legs to walk, and so you should not force the fire. It would be best if you forgot about it being different from you," he said.

"That tells me nothing," she said, growing irritated with him. If it were that simple, Aurelie would be juggling fireballs right about now, and her hands looked rather empty. She was tired of the helpless help that she received. Everyone had an opinion, but none of them actually helped her. "Might as well have told me to really really believe it next time."

"Not really," he replied and looked and raised his brow.

"It's hard," she admitted and sat down, digging her toes into the sand. "And sometimes, especially while I sat in that field, there was this thing inside me. It pushed from within, almost forcing me to use more and more power." She cocked her head to the side. "I obeyed its every whim. I had to. It was pushing and pushing me to let the magic spread. After a while, it felt so good to release more fire that I didn't want to fight back."

"It's hard at first, like a formula for a sum." He shrugged. "Foreign at first, but then, there's this click inside your mind. Where everything," he looked up at the sky and closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath, "connects. The one way to reach that point is with practice. After that, you'll be surprised at the amount of power within you." A spark glinted in his eye. He rubbed his fingers together. A sorrowful look of longing broke through his expression. He did not speak like an assistant but rather a master. "As for what happened on that field, you were pushing yourself too far. You have to take it to the brink of that feeling every time and stop right there. When you feel your control slipping, you tug everything back into yourself, bite through the cravings for more, and continue the next day again. That's how you improve. Your fire is weak. I feel it. Trust me; the headaches will stop when you are in full control of it. Until then, you should be careful how much you use. Even a dragon can become consumed by its own fire."

"How do you know so much about this?" she asked him. She knew that he was in contact with kings, with dragons just like her, but the way he reacted and spoke made her wonder whether it was something more.

"Well, how do you think any magic works? You practice and get better. Your fire is like any other magic or development, for that matter. Idea, theory, practice," he said, clapping along to the three words.

Witches used chants, Leila's body worked out her magic for her, and Kirin didn't exactly have stray shadows roaming around. On the other hand, Aurelie set woods on fire with her eyes, nearly burned down the inn, and still, she was not sure whether or not she could even light a candle in a calm state of mind.

"How do you know? I changed the weather here without even knowing that I could. Witches say one word, and the spell occurs, being a dragon is not the same thing as chanting a sentence."

"If you know everything so much better than me, why are you asking?" He gripped his beard and traced his hand slowly down it.

"That's not what I'm saying." She sighed. "I just..."

The vial he had used to scoop up her blood hung on a golden string around his neck.

"What is that?" she asked him. The liquid inside it burned an eerie white color. The last time she saw it, the blood inside looked to be on fire. "Some potion-"

The Keeper's eyes dropped down to his neck. He covered the vial with his palm. "None of your concern." His entire demeanor changed, growing colder and darker in an instant.

Winds rose and circled him, raising the sand to cover his feet.

"No, wait!" she cried. "Where are you going?" Aurelie stood and glared at him.

Marcus' back hunched, his ears dropped. He hissed at her, raising his paw to protect the Keeper.

"Shoo!" She swept her hand at him.

"Where are you going?" she shouted to make her voice heard over the howl of the wind.

The sand rose higher and higher until it covered the Keeper's whole body. She no longer had control over the weather or the wind. The realm fought back against her now. She felt its walls pushing against her . . . pushing her out.

"You don't have to tell me. I won't ask again. Come on," she took a step closer, pushing the hair out of her face, "stop this!"

The sand dropped, but the Keeper was gone. Marcus pounced on the spot where the Keeper had stood and sniffed the ground. He walked in a circle, his tail swinging anxiously from side to side.

A loud knock sounded all around her, shaking the ground beneath her feet and stirring the sea. The waves crawled onto the sand, touching her toes, and retreated. Another knock came. Aurelie threw out her arms for balance and dropped down.

Yet another knock provoked the sea and sent a tall wave to roll over the ocean. Aurelie attempted to lift her legs, but they were stuck—bolted to the sand. She pulled at them, her fingers tightly gripped around her knees, but it was no use. The water tunneled over her. Aurelie gasped as it dropped.