Before she knew what was happening, Aki’s consciousness was whisked away to a completely different time. It was as though she had leapt a couple of years forward and was at once seven years old. As it was in a dream, logic evaded her and it appeared as though the raid on the castle and the attempt on the Egg happened on the same day as the meeting with the chief architect. Aki knew this was virtually impossible (the chief architect was yet to begin construction of the Vault) but her consciousness believed and existed in the moment nevertheless. Just as it was on that fateful day, the red-clad invaders had set fire to the Grand Hall. Aki could see the blaze even from her spot under the table, which was indeed very odd. All participants of the meeting rose and cried out in alarm. They left the door open, giving Aki front row seats to the painful event that was about to take place. She saw her father, just like she did so many years ago, rush towards the invaders in full Slayer suit and

“Have we lost it?” Temujin screamed, his dark-accustomed eyes straining to pierce the inky vastness below. “Tell me we lost it!” “Of course we lost it! Bears don’t have wings, silly,” Aki tittered. “Oh, you should’ve seen your face! That was the most scared I’ve ever felt in my entire life!” They tried to bring their racing hearts and the sudden rush of adrenaline under control. Griffin especially, whose heart they could feel through all his bulk and feathers, beating madly like a rapid volley of cannon fire. “It wasn’t just the bear!” Temujin shouted. “There was something else!” “Something else?” Aki shouted back. “What?” “I can’t be sure… but I think it’s… a dragon!” “A dragon? Are you out of your mind? Dragons have been extinct for two cen—” Before Aki could finish her sentence, a large mass from below struck them like some black, flameless rocket. Griffin stiffened in pain. “Nooooooooo!” Temujin screamed as Griffin convulsed trying to break free of the deathl

Aki brought all the elements smashing against the dragon’s glowing underbelly. The beast budged and used its tail to steady itself against the onslaught. It was determined to withstand the second attack and prove it was the king, the alpha predator of its domain. What the dragon failed to realize was that Aki wouldn’t stop at hurling funnels upon funnels of wind. After she had super-cooled the dragon’s underbelly, she launched herself in the middle of her own cyclone and withdrew a short wooden implement from her suit. Another ingenuity of the Ciconi Clan, the object was an extendable bō staff. Near the mouth of her wind tunnel, Aki teleported again. But she was so focused on what she was doing that she barely noticed. She ended up floating parallel to the dragon’s chest and executed rapid combos of two-handed underarm spins with the bō staff. It appeared as though she was emerging from the cyclone in an invisible boat but she was pulling the oars so fast that she threw out sparks on

Before they fell asleep last night, Temujin had asked Aki if she wanted a piece of dragon scale, or all of them, to fashion into armor. Dragon scales were highly prized material because they were impervious to a lot of things, even fire, as their recently concluded battle had just proven. Aki answered in the negative. Ciconi Slayers disliked any form of heavy protection and preferred to rely more on teleportation or speed to evade attacks. “Forgive my ignorance, Lord Temujin,” Mr. Olsson said after a star-struck gasp, “but are these lovely cut glass bowls from the renowned glassmakers of the Vulcanus Clan? They’re curiously shallow but no less expressive than a chawan cup. Dare I say you’re exceedingly generous to even consider offering these beauties as a warming gift to me?” “Forget it,” Temujin harrumphed and put the scales back inside his jacket, away from Mr. Olsson’s reaching fingers. Before the town master could barrage them with more grand oration or another out-of-this-wor

Temujin added some new rocks into the pit in the center of the lodge to keep the temperature at a good forty degrees. He himself was sweating like a candle; he could only imagine how Griffin felt with all his down feather. He dipped water from a bucket and poured it into the hot stones, raising puffs of steam. “Have you come to seek counsel?” Temujin was startled. As the steam dissipated, he noticed the shaman, the original fire-tender, sitting cross-legged at the far end of the lodge. He thought everyone else was at the feast. “Forgive me,” Temujin quickly apologized with a bow. “I didn’t realize you were here.” “It matters not,” the shaman answered in Temujin’s western tongue. “I am neither here nor there and I come and go as I please.” Temujin looked at the shaman more carefully. His overall impression of him was “Elephant Man”, because the man was bald and had had his ear lobes stretched with big wooden disk gauges. His whole body was also covered in tattoo, as far as Temuji