The Hearts of Dragons (21 page)

“Picture the ocean.”

Iren sat on his knees in
his room with his eyes closed. He listened to Melwar’s words, struggling to
focus only on them.

“Can you see it?”

There was a rare urgency
in Melwar’s tone. In the past two days he’d begun pushing Iren harder. Out of
nowhere, Melwar had added this meditation practice, and the lord already
expected Iren to be proficient at it.

Iren had no idea what
had changed to put the calm Melwar on edge. He hoped Hana didn’t have anything
to do with it. He had woken two nights ago and found her gone, and he’d seen
almost nothing of her since then.

“Concentrate, Iren,”
Melwar interjected on his thoughts. “Answer my question.”

Iren pulled himself back
to the exercise at hand. “I see it,” he said. His mental image of the Yuushin
Sea in Ziorsecth sparkled in the late afternoon sun. He stood on the beach, and
the water swept in and out over his ankles.

“Good,” Melwar said.
“Now remember, the waves are your thoughts. Each thought is its own wave, from
the tiniest ripple to the mightiest tsunami.”

Iren grimaced. If the
waves were his thoughts, then his head was a jumbled mess.

“Make the waves
disappear,” Melwar intoned. “As your thoughts disappear, so will the waves.
Make the sea flat, like glass.”

Iren tried to calm the
churning Yuushin. When he focused, he could remove most of the waves, but two
thoughts remained. The first was Hana. Even though they hadn’t spent much time
together lately, her cherry-blossom scent filled him. He was convinced she was
the woman in his dream.

That dream was the
second thought. It came to him at least twice a night now, and sometimes in
these sessions, he would lapse into it too.

The images flashed
before him again, his black-haired wife and the baby they had made together.
The beach dissolved into a farmhouse at night. A fire crackled in the hearth.
His wife looked at him and said, “You are loved.”

Iren snapped back to
reality. He still couldn’t do it. According to Melwar, these meditations would
help him enter No Mind without fighting, but he was no closer to that goal than
he’d been the first time he and Melwar had dueled in the garden.

Those sparring bouts
weren’t going much better. Melwar’s swordsmanship was superb. In their first
six matches, the Maantec lord had defeated Iren with a single blow every time.
Iren had made his way to lasting through two or three strikes, but by that
point Melwar could enter No Mind and defeat him easily. Iren would never win
unless he could activate the trance before the battle started.

Unfortunately, that
scenario was looking more unlikely every day. A month had passed since Iren had
defeated Hana, and he now understood why Melwar thought entering No Mind
outside a fight might be impossible. It was like looking in two directions at
once. Iren needed absolute concentration to achieve No Mind, yet the technique
was defined by the purging of concentration.

Despite the paradox, Iren
wouldn’t give up. He was on the cusp of regaining his magic. The pain training
was progressing well. He could last almost an hour now, and his recovery time
had dropped to less than an hour. Melwar figured that in another two weeks,
Iren would be able to withstand the pain without losing consciousness at all.
He wanted to be ready to break his barrier when that time came.

Melwar frowned at him
from across the room. “A thought distracts you,” the Maantec lord said.

Iren bowed to the floor.
“Lord Melwar,” he said, “in your experience with magic, have you ever had
visions of the future?”

“I have heard stories of
those who have vague dreams that later come to pass,” Melwar replied. “I also
recall a Maantec legend that claims the Dragon Knights are fated to be drawn to
one another. At best, though, these prophecies are hazy and open to
interpretation. A true vision of the future is impossible. The future is not
fixed. Our actions determine its shape.” He paused and stroked his chin. “That
is your lingering thought, then. You have had a dream and are curious about
it.”

Iren told Melwar about
the farmhouse vision. When he finished, he thought Melwar would berate him for
letting it distract him. Instead the Maantec looked thoughtful.

“You are not seeing the
future, but the past,” Melwar said. “You are seeing the world through the eyes
of a former Holy Dragon Knight.”

“How can that be?”

“You know that when you
use Divinion’s magic, you also draw in some of his will, correct? His memories
come along with it. But while the kanji circles draw the dragon’s will back
into the Holy Diamond, the memories linger. They are buried in your
subconscious. It is not well known even among Dragon Knights, but if a knight
concentrates, he can see the past through the eyes of his predecessors. If you
focus hard enough, for example, you could experience what happened to Iren
Saito a thousand years ago. Also, unlike an ordinary memory, which fades with
time, the dragons’ memories are perfect. You will experience what happened in
every detail as though you were living it yourself.”

Melwar’s explanation
struck Iren like a blow from a wooden katana. In seconds the Maantec lord had
shattered Iren’s perspective that his dream had been of him and Hana living
together as husband and wife.

But then who was he
seeing in those dreams? The memory could belong to any Holy Dragon Knight.

“Is it possible to
control these visions?” Iren asked. “Can I choose a memory and enter it at
will?”

“I do not encourage it,”
Melwar said. His frown deepened. “There is a reason few Dragon Knights know
about this ability. Knights have died from using it.”

“Died?”

“As I said, these
visions go beyond normal memories. While you are in one, you become the person
whose memory you examine. You see what they saw and feel what they felt. You
will retain your own thoughts at first, but you can lose yourself if the memory
stretches too long. Surrounded by the previous knight’s experiences,
particularly if they are traumatic, you forget that you are not that person. If
that happens, you will never escape. You will be trapped in the memory until
your real body dies of exhaustion.”

Iren felt lightheaded.
He’d thought his dreams were innocent, but if Melwar was right, Iren risked
death every time they affected him.

That was all the more
reason to end them. “How do I enter a memory?” he asked. “If I can learn what
this dream is about, maybe I can get it to stop plaguing my thoughts.”

Melwar sighed. “Under
normal circumstances, I would not teach you how to do this. It seems, however,
that until you resolve this memory, you will not achieve No Mind. Very well.
You have learned the first step: meditation. Focus your mind as I have taught
you these past two days. When the ocean becomes as still as possible, think
back on the time you want to examine. The more precise you can be, the better.
The memory will come to you.”

Iren bowed once more.
“Thank you, Lord Melwar.”

The Maantec nodded. “You
are welcome, but Iren, please take care. Only you can pull your mind from a
memory. No one on the outside can help you. More important, never forget that
while the past has triumphs, it has failures too. Be cautious in your search
for truth. More often than not, it does not bring happiness. It only brings
more pain.”

With that Melwar left
the room. Iren extinguished the candles and sat on the floor. He pictured the
ocean. The sea appeared, and the waves calmed. He focused on the dream. The
scene in his mind stayed the same. He concentrated harder, but he remained on
the sand.

He was about to give up
when a figure appeared down the beach and walked toward him. Iren wondered if
he was lapsing into the dream again, but as the person came closer, he realized
the newcomer was an old man with white robes and sandals flecked with blue.

Iren gasped. “Divinion!”
he shouted. He raced across the sand and slammed into the old man, wrapping him
in a hug. “What are you doing here? Aren’t you trapped in the Holy Diamond? Did
I use magic?”

“One question at a
time!” the old man laughed as he disentangled himself. When he was free, he
looked around the beach and said, “This is an interesting place to meet. It
doesn’t surprise me that the mental image you can conjure best is a seaside.”

Iren looked at him
blankly. “So then, are you just an image in my mind, something I made up like
this ocean?”

Divinion shook his head.
“Nope, I’m the real Holy Dragon. I’m afraid I must admit to being the one who’s
caused your recurring dreams this past year. I wanted to get your attention.”

“Well, your plan
worked,” Iren said. “Those dreams, or memories, or whatever they are, have been
driving me crazy!”

The old man smiled
sheepishly and put his right hand behind his head. It was an odd gesture for
the most powerful being on Raa. “Sorry about that,” he said, “but I wanted to
talk to you.”

“About what? What could
be so important that you would pester me for a year?”

Divinion flushed.
“Nothing, really. When your body created its magical barrier, part of my will
remained inside you from the Dragoon transformation. The wall prevented the
Holy Diamond from pulling me back into it. I’ve been trapped in your
subconscious ever since. I was lonely.”

“Lonely?” Iren asked. He
put a hand to his forehead. “You sent me those memories because you were
lonely? I thought you were a god!”

“Gods get lonely too. We
may have great power, but the hearts of dragons yearn for companionship just as
those of other species do. When I was in the Holy Diamond, I could count on you
using magic and releasing me from that prison on a regular basis. With your
barrier in place, I thought I would never see the outside world again. I
thought I would never see you again. It terrified me.”

Iren had nothing to say.
He couldn’t believe Divinion, the Holy Dragon, could be terrified of anything.
Then again, if their places were reversed, Iren knew he would find the dragon’s
situation unbearable. Now that he thought about it, it didn’t shock him that
Divinion would go to such lengths to contact him.

That raised a question
though. “Why use a memory?” Iren asked. “You could have just come yourself.”

“I tried that at first,
but even in your sleep, I couldn’t touch your conscious mind enough to reach
you. Instead, I took advantage of our shared memories of past Holy Dragon
Knights. When I focused on an especially strong memory, one where you were present,
I found I could connect with your dreams. I hoped the repeated vision would
prompt you to come looking for me.”

Iren thought about the
memory Divinion had sent him. “You’re not making sense,” he said. “I’m not in
that memory. I’ve never been married. I’ve never had a child. I’ve never lived
in a farmhou—”

He stopped short. He had
lived in a farmhouse, though never as an adult. “I am in it, aren’t I?” he
whispered. “I’m not the man whose eyes I’m looking through. I’m the baby in the
woman’s arms. That woman isn’t Hana; she’s my mother. The man is my father.”

Divinion nodded.

“But that doesn’t make
sense either,” Iren said. “The woman in the memory calls me ‘Iren.’ How would
she know that’s my name?”

The Holy Dragon had no
answer for that. “Let’s just enjoy that we can talk to each other again,” he
said. “Even if you never regain your magic, if you meditate, you can reach me
here any time.”

“I would like to talk to
you more,” Iren admitted, but even as he spoke, he knew Divinion had changed
the subject. The dragon hadn’t liked where Iren’s question was leading.

That only made Iren want
the answer more. Why would the woman call him Iren? Melwar had said he would
see the memories exactly as they happened. How could that be unless . . .

His breath caught. “She’s
not addressing me,” he murmured. “She’s talking to my father. My father’s name
is Iren.”

It couldn’t be.

“Divinion,” Iren said,
his voice fast, “I need to see a memory. I need to see the first memory you
have of the Holy Dragon Knight after the end of the Kodama-Maantec War.”

The old man looked
crestfallen. “I should have known this would happen. I thought you had moved
past your parents. It seems I was wrong. So be it. I will let you see the memory
if you wish, but I advise against it. It will only hurt you.”

Divinion’s words echoed
Melwar’s warning, but Iren didn’t care. He needed to know. “Show me.”

The dragon sighed,
reached out, and touched Iren on the forehead. In an instant, the beach, ocean,
and Divinion disappeared. Iren was left in darkness.

*   *   *

Iren felt himself open
his eyes. He had no control over his actions. He was in the memory.

He lay on a stone floor.
The smooth black rock spread around him. He pressed his hands down and pushed
onto his knees. “I’m alive?” he whispered.

Standing, he walked to
the floor’s edge. He stood atop a gigantic tower a thousand feet in the air.
The landscape mortified him, and he panicked as he realized he wasn’t dreaming.
This was reality. This was what he had caused.

Storm clouds covered the
sky. Lightning arced from cloud to cloud and struck the ground dozens of times
every second. Rain gushed from the storm, but it evaporated before it struck
the earth. On the ground, once a verdant country dotted with rice paddies,
everything was scorched red and dry. White flames erupted from crevasses that
crisscrossed the land. Some of those fires reached as high as the roof on which
he stood.

He had seen all that
before, during the battle. The scenery wasn’t what sickened him. The corpses
did.