The Heart of the Matter

The Raven watched the old man clamped in the jaws of the dragon. He remembered that face. No, not a god, but something ancient, a being of power. Memory escaped him once more and he cawed in frustration.

He saw the warrior leave his dead mate then. The slayer of his twin lay unguarded on the shores of this magical lake. He knew its healing waters of old, but could not recall its name. His first thought was one of spite, to peck out the woman's eyes, to feel those balls of jelly split and taste her flesh, but to what end?

Then another thought came more terrible than the first and with a charge of excitement the Raven swept down from the arm of the elf to alight on the dead woman's chest. There is was, the fatal wound that had pieced her heart, untouched by the healing magic of the lake. The lake required life to work with and there was none here...yet.

With a caw of triumph the Raven plunged its beak deep into the wound piecing the half elfs heart anew and then with a violent wretch he regurgitated the heart of its twin before withdrawing its beak. The whole thing was over in a matter of seconds. He felt the loss of the heart keenly, like an emptiness in his soul as he waited.

Nearby the being known as Kespin was throwing off the power of the dragon, mastering its spirit and by doing so breaking its chains to the world of death. The Raven saw all of this clearly in the flow of magic, he also saw the barb, the invisible hook that would be the price for this supposed victory. There was always a price. he thought...

"..and there always will be." The woman who was Tiella said quietly as she pushed herself to her feet.

They watched as the dragon reared throwing Balar and Erik back as Kespin stood tall before it and then the beast bowed deeply before the man.

"NAME YOUR BOON," hissed the Dragon to Kespin, "AND I WILL AID AS I MAY, BUT HURRY FOR MY BROTHERS CALL AND I WOULD NOT TARRY."