</a> After a few minutes, he walked over to where Bredwin and Za’erath were treating their half-ogre companion. He noticed as he walked down the embankment that someone had taken the time to remove the head from the other dracair warrior and nodded in approval. Grimbash was still lying near the body of the dracair dreadnaught, but his size had returned to normal—which was still large.
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“Okay Victor, that’s enough Why’s for the moment. Let me answer them as they come so I don’t lose track.” Shaylyn said seriously. “As to the first, you cannot show other kids or even adults what you can do because you are not supposed to be able to do it. Most people do not learn most of the things you know before their mid or early teens, if they are gifted. As to why you are different and able to do things that people three times your age cannot, it is because your blood heritage is stronger than most before you.”
</a> Forestalling the onslaught of questions that she saw coming, she held up her hand to silence him. “The blood heritage is a term the dragons used. It is a gift from the parents and ancestors to their children. The blood heritage is made up of memories and other things that the ones before you knew. When the dragons took human form fully and mated with the other races, it changed this heritage into something that the non-draconic races had not seen before. In humans and half-elves, it means that at a certain point in a person’s life, they may develop dreams or feel a guiding force from inside that they don’t know what it is or where it came from. For others, the bond develops much stronger. When the heritage of the blood manifests itself fully in some, they receive the full memories, and in some cases the skills, that their parents and grandparents had. These tend to manifest themselves slowly over time. Most of those who receive these gifts do so at an age during or after their teen years, or in a time of great distress.”
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</a> “Thousands of years had given my family, on my elven mother’s side, dozens of lifetimes of experience. My father’s side was not as strong in the memories as my mother’s, and they were mostly farmers and soldiers, from the memories I can dredge up. Out of all the Protectorate Forces, there is a small percentage of those of us who are so strong in the heritage. This squad, and some if not most of the higher ranked members of the armies, are stronger in the blood heritage.”
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</a> “Alright, lad.” Dunnagan moved Ashur aside enough so that he could delve what was wrong with Shawnrik. Pricking his finger, he drew the dwarven rune of healing upon Shawnrik’s forehead and began feeding energy into it. He placed his hand on the young man’s chest and stood immobile over Shawnrik for what felt like an hour to Ashur, but he knew it must only have been a few minutes.
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Nodding, Tallion looked at the young man with what Ashur thought might be a sort of compassion. Finding it odd that a Dracair could feel compassion for anything, he knew it must be serious. He went back beside Shawnrik and took the young man’s hand. Hold it together, Shawnrik.
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Ashur looked at his companion questioningly, but the dwarf was too busy to reply even if he had noticed his friend’s look. You have to live, Shawnrik. Who is going to watch after Victor if you die? Besides, I’ve gotten too used to you being around. I don’t like to see any of those I travel with die. Ragnós knows I’ve seen too many already. Keep fighting, lad. We’ll be right here beside you.
What’s going on? Shawnrik cried.
Shawnrik? Is that you?
Shawnrik knew that voice, but he couldn’t place it at the moment. His whole body felt numb. It’s better than the pain, he thought, but couldn’t remember what pain he meant.
What pain? Are you okay?
The voice broke through his thoughts again, but he couldn’t pinpoint it. He knew that he trusted the voice, yet he couldn’t call up the face behind it.
Tell me where you are. The voice became more insistent.
Who are you? Shawnrik asked the voice.
It’s me, Victor. Where are you? the voice asked again.
A flood of images flew through Shawnrik’s mind. He knew Victor. He trusted the boy with his life. I can’t recall. I remember being tired, and then the pain.
Pain? Are you hurt? Is someone hurting you? the voice of Victor asked.
Shawnrik shook his head but realized that the voice probably couldn’t see that. No, I don’t think so. I can’t remember. I know that I’m with two people. His memories weren’t coming as fast as he was used to. Fearing that he was losing himself, he began to panic. Victor, I’m scared.
Are you with Ashur and Dunnagan? Victor’s voice asked.
More images flowed into Shawnrik’s head. As always, Victor’s presence brought out more in Shawnrik than he knew he had. Yes! We are… being held. I can’t remember where. We were heading for a town, but something held us up.
Were you heading towards Stalwart, or had you gotten there already?
Yes, Stalwart. That is where we were heading. I remember a girl. She… she got captured. Shawnrik was trying to recall by what, but he couldn’t bring it forward. He felt a tinge of the pain that his memory recalled, and he felt himself being pulled away. Victor, it hurts.