The Thieves of Otar

The Silver Dragon

"My task?" Zia asked, confused.

"Ending the war between your people and their greatest enemy," he clarified. "You've done spectacularly."

"Ending the war?" Zia asked in confusion. "How did I end the war?"

"You don't know?" the Silver Dragon asked, though it didn't sound like a question. He spoke to her the way a teacher might speak to a student, nudging them toward the correct answer.

"That glow," Zia said slowly. "That glow that filled the room. That was me?"

The dragon nodded.

"So it's true then," she said in awe. "I really do have... magic."

The Silver Dragon chuckled. "'Magic' is the word used by foolish men who do not understand the higher nature of things. It is the human mind's feeble attempt at explaining something it does not have the capacity to understand. What you have is a gift given to you by your mother and her mother and other fathers and mothers back through time. The power you wield is something far greater than you can begin to comprehend."

"What do you mean?" Zia asked. "I thought the Golden-Eyed One had the power to call upon the Silv... er, you, to end fighting and battle? How can that be 'greater than I can begin to comprehend'?"

Zia wasn't sure if dragons could smile, but it looked like the Silver Dragon was trying. "Exactly my point," he said kindly, which just confused her all the more. "All you need know is that the ability to call upon my aid is only the surface of the potential abilities that you have been given."

"You mean I can do more than just call you?"

"Of course," he replied. "Even I, who gave this power to the first Golden-Eyed One, do not understand it completely."

"But you're a dragon!" Zia protested. "You're thousands of years old! This power came from you. How can you not know what is does?"

The Silver Dragon held up a claw to calm her, and a sudden feeling of warmth swept over her, making her muscle relax.

"I do not fully understand all of the abilities you have been given, because I've only given you the one," he said.

"What?" Zia asked, now more confused than ever.

"You see," the dragon said, "I gave the first Golden-Eyed One the power to call upon my aid and to pass that gift on to one of her children. However, I did not foresee that my gift would not be the only one to pass on through the generations. Each Golden-Eyed One through the centuries had something about them that made them unique- as all people do. Some were bold and daring, others were kind and gentle. All of these things are power in and of themselves, and these qualities were passed down along with my gift."

"So what you're saying is," Zia said slowly, "that certain attributes of each Golden-Eyed One passed down to their children?"

The Silver Dragon nodded his scaly head. "Precisely. And because of that, it is impossible to tell what other powers you may wield."

"But they're just personality traits, aren't they?"

"How much you have yet to learn," the dragon said, shaking his head, almost as if he were speaking to himself. "Our 'personality traits' as you call them make us who we are. Those who have an eye for beauty often times help show that beauty to others. Those who are compassionate and great warriors come to the defense of others who are not able to defend themselves. Those who are humorous and prone to laughter spread grins and smiles like a plague."

"But what does this have to do with my gift?" Zia asked. 

"Like I said," he replied simply, "these attributes were passed down from Golden-Eyed One to Golden-Eyed One, and each one of these attributes can be a power in their own regard. A little kindness can magically make one smile. A dash of laughter can brighten one's day. Each of these qualities from your ancestors reside in you, and they each make the gift I gave you stronger. And the gift, in turn, makes them stronger. It also allows the gift to manifest itself in ways more than just calming down others."