As the elf and the knight climbed the mountainside, the sea vanished beneath an ocean of mist. At the summit stood a lone tower, drawing a thoughtful silence from Melisara, who led the way.

Faelan, exhausted from battling storms and krakens, trailed behind her. His arming jack salt-stained. Elderbright hung heavily at his side. He watched the she-elf pause to look back, the wind caressing her silver locks. The world below reflected in the clear pools of her eyes. 

Everything felt far away and insignificant from this height. 

At the foot of the tower,Faelan exchanged a look with Melisara, who simply nodded him onwards towards the door. His fist raised to knock, but the doors parted before his knuckles rapped against the wind-worn wood. The smell of old parchment and something rich and earthy wafted out to greet him.

Inside, a cluttered room awaited. Cloud moisture beaded along the walls. Herbs hung from the rafters and beneath the windows. Astrolabes and old charts crowded the tables beside peculiar jars and the bones of birds. Waist-high stacks of books huddled along the legs of ageing chairs, while brass instruments spun without visible mechanisms. 

A single elderly figure stood on a parapet, tossing scraps to squawking ravens.

“You’re late.” The old man chuckled with a voice like crumbling parchment. “I suppose the kraken is partly to blame. He does have a habit of clinging to new visitors. Ah, well… you are here now.”

Faelan’s eyes flickered from the old man to his companion. He quirked a brow at Melisara. The elf smirked knowingly.

“Hiveth. A wizard,” she said softly.

“Aye, Hiveth the Wise, at your service.” The man turned, his layered robes shifting with the careful movement. His hand stroked the wispy length of his silvery beard. “I have waited a very long time for the bearer of Elderbright to arrive. Apparently the elves have not forgotten me, though my good looks are hardly forgettable.” He gave a wink, his eyes twinkling with enigmatic mirth.

“You have followed the map and arrived at its destination. However, knowing where to go does not protect you from what lies at its end. What you seek rests in a lair guarded by a beast older than Silvani, and no sword alone can cleave its flame. Come.” Hiveth beckoned Faelan.

Melisara drifted towards the balcony. Beyond violet clouds, smoke curled from the distant mountain, too rhythmic to be ordinary fire.

Warily, Faelan approached the wizard, noticing the purplish stain on his fingertips. Hiveth nodded onwards, leading the young man up wind-worn stairs to a round chamber open to the sky.

At its centre sat a large scrying pool, filled not with water, but with mead so darkened with berries it resembled violet ink. Hiveth waved his hand over it. The pool rippled, revealing the image of a shield. Its silvered rim broke the violet surface, floating within reach. Its surface etched with concentric runes. A six-pointed flame carved into its middle. Its metal bruised in colour, as though dyed by berry vines.

“Nightbloom… Elderbright’s counterpart. While its brother cleaves falsehoods, the shield endures what truth alone cannot,” Hiveth said.

Faelan reached out to retrieve the shield from the pool, but Hiveth’s hand settled on his arm, stopping him.

“Ah. You have not earned it merely by climbing some stairs, young man.”

Faelan gave him a puzzled look. “Then what must I do?”

“There are no krakens to slay here, boy. But something just as daunting.” Retrieving a goblet from a table near the scrying pool, Hiveth dipped it into the ink-like liquid and handed it to Faelan. “Drink. And then… tell me, what do you believe makes a knight?”

Faelan glanced at the offered drink, caution stilling his hand for a heartbeat before he reached out and took it. The drink bloomed across his tongue with mellowed sweetness, staining it with the dark, bright sharpness of mashed berries.

His brows rose in surprise, but the answer came to him. “Courage, honour, loyalty. Skill with a blade.”

Hiveth’s eyes crinkled at the corners, a small smile on his lips. “Courage where there is no wisdom becomes recklessness. Loyalty without judgement becomes obedience. And a sword distinguishes a knight only from unarmed fools.” He gestured to the shield. “A knight is not measured only by what falls before his blade.”

The beat of massive wings shattered the tranquillity of the tower above the clouds. Melisara raced up the stairs, shouting, “Dragon! It’s here!”

Faelan took up his sword as the beast broke through the clouds and slammed into the open room, sending all three tumbling to the ground. Elderbright clattered from his grip, sliding dangerously towards the edge of a balcony and teetering over it.

Every instinct urged him towards Elderbright. A knight met fire with steel. But the dragon was not looking at him. It was looking at Melisara. His gaze darted from the sword he knew to the shield he had yet to earn.

There was no time to question it.

He sprang up, snatched Nightbloom from the scrying pool, and dove in front of Melisara. Eyes shut against the blinding fire, he braced the shield high as flames plumed from the dragon’s throat. As he raised it, violet light flooded the concentric runes. The six-pointed flame at its centre burned silver-white. 

Silence suddenly fell.

Then, the sound of clapping and Hiveth’s craggy laughter met his ears. Faelan looked over, dumbfounded, to see the wizard standing beside the pool. Melisara and the dragon were nowhere in sight.

Faelan came to his feet, holding the shield. “It was a trick…” he growled.

“It was a trial. One you passed, boy.” Hiveth smiled. “An illusion conjured when you drank from the eye of the pool. A knight is not made by what he destroys, but by what he is willing to protect.”

Faelan looked down at the shield in his hand, then at his waist. Elderbright still sheathed at his side.

“There are three things you will need to reach the emblem. Truth…” He nodded to the sword. “Protection…” He gestured to the shield. “…and memory.”

Melisara appeared upon the steps, looking curiously between the two.

“I have watched long enough. My vigil here is over. Now…” The wizard chuckled and retrieved his staff. “It is time we go and ask a dragon what it remembers…”