The Captive Flame

*****

His wounds already half healed, his deep voice growing louder with each syllable, Tchazzar chanted the final couplet of the incantation. Although his feet didn’t leave the ground, Gaedy

had a paradoxical sensation of soaring. Then sunlight washed away the murky dusk that was as close as the Shadowfell ever came to day.

The Sky Riders were dangerous in their own right, but in comparison to the dark world they seemed like paradise. Jhesrhi looked around at the flourishing, green-leaved trees and the patches of blue sky visible through their branches with a rare smile on her face.

Gaedy

knew she had reason to smile. They’d succeeded in their mission beyond anyone’s wildest expectations. Now that he’d come home, Tchazzar could well prove to be the key to victory. And on top of that, Jhesrhi had somehow purged herself of the old fears that had afflicted her ever since her return to Chessenta. She hadn’t talked about it, but Gaedy

could see the difference.

So he ought to share her happiness. He was trying. But when he looked at the colossal red dragon looming behind her, gazing at the world he’d lost and regained in a sort of ecstasy, a thought came to him that made elation difficult. He told himself he had no reason to think such a thing, but the question persisted nonetheless.

What exactly have we done?