The Thieves of Otar

The Silver Dragon

"I'm not sure I understand," Zia admitted.

The Silver Dragon laughed. "I don't expect you to. I've lived for thousands of years and still do not fully comprehend the power of it myself."

"The power of what?"

"Why, the power of love, of course," he said. He sighed dreamily. "Ah, love- the most powerful emotion of them all. Love can make you feel lighter than a feather and more powerful than the ocean, or it can make you feel heavier than a stone and as useless as a broken bow."

"Love is the key," Zia said softly to herself.

The Silver Dragon nodded. "Indeed. It is the key to everything: happiness, kindness, courage, laughter, peace. It is even the key to the darker things of life: anger, worry, hatred."

"Aren't hatred and love opposites? How can love be the key to hatred?"

"Opposition can be found in all things. You see, my dear, even complete opposites have things in common and are related in one way or another."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Take love and hatred for example. Both are deeply powerful emotions, but one brings a feeling of peace and light, and the other anger and darkness. You have to know love to know hatred, and vice versa. They are both intertwined into the very fabric of life itself."

Zia felt that her head was going to explode. Of all the things she had suspected the Silver Dragon might be, a philosopher was definitely not one of them.

"You do not fully understand," he said, as if he had read her thoughts. "I do not expect you to. Even we dragons do not understand it, and we are as old and- forgive me if I sound prideful- wise as the ages." The Silver Dragon lowered his head until he was at Zia's eye level. "It was your love for your friends and your people that saved them from a terrible, bloody death."

"So my friends are alive?" Zia asked, relief flooding her mind when the dragon nodded. "Even Heath?"

The Silver Dragon smiled. "Yes, he is alive and well."

"But how?" she demanded. "I saw him, I listened to his chest- he was dead. How can he be alive? Not that I'm complaining," she added quickly.

"Love is a powerful thing, my child," he said simply. "It burns like a fire with us. In your darkest hour, when you thought that all you loved was destroyed, you called upon me. You didn't just call upon the gift that was given to you by me, through your ancestors. You also called up the flame of love that burns within you. The two together mixed, spread, and were so overwhelming it sent all of Otar into a deep sleep."

"But how does that relate to Heath?"

"Have you learned nothing from our talk?" the Silver Dragon asked, sounding a bit disappointed. "Your love for him is what saved him. Heath was not dead, but he was certainly close. He was losing a lot of blood from his wound, but when you released the fire of the love within you, the heat spread throughout the entire kingdom, including to Heath. The heat cauterized his wound and staunched the flow of blood that Heath was experiencing. You saved him- healed him. You healed yourself as well."

Zia felt for her wounds on her leg and arm, but felt nothing but soft, new skin. Confused, she rolled up her trousers leg and gasped in surprise when all she found was a large scar.

"So Heath is really alive?" Zia asked, looking at the Silver Dragon hopefully.

He nodded affirmation.

The thought of Heath alive made her smile wider than she had in days. But before she could see him again she would have to get out of here... Wherever 'here' was.