"Shiandra, come stir this potion while I prepare the moonberries." The aging wizard hunched over a large cauldron, working the contents with what might have been an oar from a dinghy.

"Of course, Master Ledor." The youth put down the book she had been studying. She crossed the laboratory full of dried herbs and animal parts hanging just overhead. Racks full of minerals, from the mundane mudstone to the truly exotic star opals that glistened with their own light, lined the left wall. A huge fireplace with attendant ovens took up the right wall.
A twenty-foot long table stood out from the far wall toward her, a burning brazier heating a cauldron stood beside a trough of water at the near end. Her master stood over the large pot, his back to the fire. She stood across from him and took the paddle without disturbing the rhythm of the motion. The small wave that rolled ahead of the handle maintained its crescent moon shape.

"Hmm," Ledor mumbled in what she thought was a pleased tone. He nodded absently as he took down the jar of pale green berries, pouring the whole quart into a wooden bowl. He sprinkled in powdered cinnabar, coarsely broken Emerain bark, and a handful of dried beetles she didn't recognize. He cast a small spell to fix the bowl to the workbench.

Shiandra smiled at the thrill of magic being used nearby. The heat of the ovens which baked into her arms and face as she watched him work was nothing by comparison. She sensed the magic a way her teacher couldn't. It was they only thing Ledor didn't know about her, having raised her for the last ten years. She could never tell him. The Mark, the ability to sense and decipher magic in a way no other could and the dreams that came with it, instilled fear within everyone on Somnuran, save those few who had them. The black and green lines that made up her own Mark sat just below her left breast, and though she knew it would grow as he power did, it would be hidden for some time to those who saw her clothed.

Ledor picked up a large pestle and started to muddle the ingredients. Shiandra banished the thoughts of her magical Mark. She concentrated on her task, chasing the small wave around the vat with the paddle for what seemed a terribly long time inhaling the wax fumes before Ledor broke her reverie.

"Continue, please, while I pour in the mixture."

"Of course, Master Ledor." She said once again. The berries and other ingredients had been pulped into a smooth, slightly glowing light-green fluid speckled with bits of beetle carapace. It slid into the vat with little disturbance to the potion, thanks to Ledor's practiced hand. She knew one day she would be as skilled. She yearned for that day. It was among the things her dreams showed her.

Gradually, as she continued to stir, the color of the potion shifted from dark purple to pale blue. Ledor adjusted the spell on the brazier beneath it to raise the temperature. Within moments, tiny bubbles began to break the surface. With each, a wisp of vapor escaped.

The gouts of steam were animated, twisting around like snakes. Seeking each other, they joined into small clouds. Ledor stood ready with a series of ensorcelled quart jars. Shiandra smiled again at the release of energy, wondering about the use of the living steam her master was collecting. He filled each glass to the brim with captured vapors, sealing them as he went. Soon, the bench glowed with a faint gray-blue light from three gallons of the arcane material.

"Wonderful, wonderful. This will be enough to last me almost a year." He doused the brazier with a word and pointed to the cauldron. "Pour the rest of that over into the trough. We can use it again later if we need the wax for teaching you shaping spells."

Oooh. She thought, real magic! No more of this lighting candles and picking up pebbles. I'll finally be able to bend trees and knock down walls. She smiled to herself and gripped the edge of the vat, kept cool by the magic it was instilled with on its making.

The water sputtered and hissed as she poured the hot wax. Spatters were kept from flying out by a simple magical barrier intended to stop arrows. The material formed odd blobs with shining surfaces. One of them flickered with magic more strongly than the rest. It must be a sign. She plucked the hand-sized mass from the now warm water and hid it in her loose robes. While Ledor was busy stowing his jars and checking the magical seals upon them to be sure the contents would keep, Shiandra stole away to her bedchamber with her prize.

I already have so much... This room, I would never have had quarters like this until I was married, and then only if I married well. I would have to share them with the man I gave myself to. Here I eat well. I want for little. Master Ledor is kind enough, and does not abuse me the way so many others would in his position... But then, he is old. Perhaps he doesn't think of such things anymore...

Don't be a fool, another inner voice said. It was the one from her dreams. He must have some reason for his treatment of you, his apparent generosity. Take this token you have earned by your hard work and hide it away. It is part of your treasure. She nodded. She always listened to the voice. She had disobeyed once when she was small. She stayed awake for fear of the dreams she had just started having. Her foot went lame for days, giving her great difficulty whenever she walked. Ledor could do nothing about the pain.

The next time the voice came to her, it told her to throw a rock through a window in the middle of town. She knew she would be caught, but feared the voice's wrath more. As the rock left her hand, her foot was healed and she ran all the way back to Ledor's workshop.

She knelt beside her bed and pressed one of the dovetail joints on the back of her dresser. A panel popped away from the side, revealing a small cubby which already held a few small pieces of various gemstones, some sweet-smelling white mint leaves and a copper brooch she had found on a trip to Iko with Ledor two years before. It was magical, but she didn't have the skill to determine what types of spells were bound into it. Yet.

Shiandra carefully wrapped the wax figure in a handkerchief and placed the small bundle into the cubby. Closing it as silently as it had opened, she ducked back out of the room to watch Ledor inspect the last of the jars.

"It's late. I'm tired, as I'm sure you are. You may have the rest of the night, but remember we are heading out to Hacklebrei tomorrow morning. You'll want to get your rest."

"Indeed, Master Ledor. My bed is much more inviting at the moment than the pub. Dream well, teacher."

"You as well, little one. Behoran watch over you."

She almost laughed. The gods of men were frail in comparison to her true teacher, the voice in her dreams. She knew it was a servant of one of the Ancient Gods, or perhaps one of Them, leading her to her destiny.

~~~

The first thing Shiandra saw when she awoke to the Dream Realm was a collection of tents and carts painted in gaudy colors. Traveling entertainers were in town for Festival. Three juggled and played pipes while the rest erected a small stage for a puppet show.

Bah, such as they dream their lives like they live them. It's such a great waste. The voice spoke to her in its melodious manner, but she didn't look around. The speaker had never appeared to her. She knew he would when she was ready. And now for something out of the ordinary, even for the time we share here.

She tensed a bit at this. She had come to obey, but not truly trust, the other. It was cruel, demanding and unforgiving. She knew she had to be on her guard.

A black mote appeared, a blur flying across her vision from right to left. As it passed, it grew larger. Only as it neared did she gain any clue as to its form. It was a tiny black dragon, no bigger than her hand. It flitted before her, staring into her eyes for a moment, before turning and zipping off to the east. She took a step after it out of instinct, and then caught herself. Little was what it seemed in dreams. As with all magic, the size had no bearing on danger.

Follow. The voice came to her. She stepped off and began to jog, two yards in a stride, then five. Soon she was speeding along at rates impossible in the waking world, practically flying after the black dot, which grew no nearer, but no farther away. They streaked to the coast and beyond, her toes splashing lightly on the surface of the water as though through puddles on the street.

Finally, they stopped at a stone pillar the color of the sky after a storm, orange and still energized, standing hundreds of feet out of the waves. On its surface, dragons of all description cavorted: Some had two wings, others four, others none. Some had two lashes springing from the ends of impossibly long tails that wrapped all the way around the ten-foot wide stone. Some even had more than one head. They were interspersed with things Shiandra was not even sure were creatures at all, but perhaps fanciful designs.

Shiandra made two circuits of the pillar, taking in the images for later study. Her elusive guide shot straight up the side of the obelisk. She followed it to the flat top of the structure she now saw was slightly oval. It was inlaid with all varieties of metals forming myriad symbols. She recognized only a few from her studies with Ledor.

"Come." The voice spoke aloud rather than manifesting in her head as it always had. One of the intricate lines of platinum glowed with green fire. Other symbols in a continuous scrawling line of silver sprang to life in purple, seemingly in reaction to a chant that thrummed through the stone, through her body.

Shiandra stared in awe as the whole pillar turned slightly to the left and dropped a foot. The tiny dragon had settled in the middle of the top face, wings curled and tail pulled around its feet. It stared at her expectantly, and then bobbed its head once. She descended to the platform, alighting on the pale orange stone, feeling the magic shimmer up her legs.

"Do you want the power I have to give?"

"Yes." Shiandra said. Her voice, as her mind, was filled with calm she didn't understand. It pressed down on her mind, her spirit, forcing her to be still.

"Your blood sings in this place, does it not? In tune with the harmony of the world? The life's blood of which is the magic you seek?"

"I feel it. I've felt it since before I heard your voice the first time."

"Will you follow it? Do as I say? Fulfill your vow made this day?"

"I will do what I need to in order to take the world in my hand."

"Then stand above my messenger. Let you occupy the same space. Give yourself to me and you shall rule this world, if you are strong enough."

"I am." Shiandra replied, stomach alive with nervous energy. Her steps were sure as she moved to the center of the platform and planted one foot on either side of the small dragon.

A wracking pain seared through her limbs as the thrum that spoke of a coming storm broke into thunder and lightning coursing through her. It bored into her heart as though her blood had turned to acid. She tried to hold back the scream, but heard it ululating from her as though in time with the heartbeat of the universe.

The world whipped around as her head flailed. Her hands clenched at her sides as her fingers throbbed. Her shoulders burned and twisted as though being pulled from her. Her legs struggled to support her. The pain grew to the edge of overwhelming her. Something slapped against them, whipping, but still she stood, swaying, held up by an outside force as though she was a marionette being jangled at the end of her strings.

The surge of energy fell away, but she could feel it within her. Something fundamental had changed. A hand far more powerful than Ledor's had added the final ingredient in the potion of her life. The reaction had taken place. She looked down at her hands and saw that her skin was black. At the side of them, and on her legs, tiny scales glinted in the light from below. Her nails were thick and hooked, sharp on the ends.

Claws.

She looked up again and let out a whoop of joy. Movement behind her caught her gaze as something pulled on her shoulders. She turned, but nothing was there. She fell backwards, unbalanced by the pull that still exerted itself on her. Before her rear struck stone, she felt the obelisk, warm and slightly rough, on a part of her shoulders she couldn't place.

Shiandra looked over her shoulder as far as she could by craning her neck. Her eyes grew wide. A pair of sleek black wings had sprung from her back. She leapt into the air and circled the pillar a few times. The tiny messenger was gone. Once she had found her bearings, she flitted about, swooping and testing out her new abilities. "This is what life is about!" She beamed.

Eventually, she realized it would be morning soon. She was eager to show her former master her new form and begin her new life. She descended, crossing sea and field, re-entering the lab and finding her bed.

Shiandra awoke. The pale skin of her hand, the tangle of hair atop her head and the utter lack of wings disturbed her. Very quickly her mood turned as black as her scales had been in her dream.

Barely suppressing her rage, she pressed the button to her hidden compartment and pulled out the knot of wax in its wrapping, determined to return it to the trough in case her master would miss it. It had all been just a dream. There was no point in getting in trouble for something she had no use for. As the block rolled out of the linen, though, she stopped and stared again. What was a vague mass the night before was now finely carved and highly detailed. It was also jet black and hard as stone.

Its form was now that of the tiny dragon had led her in the Dream Realm. It sat, staring as it had atop the pillar: tail around its feet, wings cupped over its body. She could feel the magic within it. It had been increased by the night's activities, even if her own form had not... She stared into its eyes, falling, remembering her dream, until she heard Ledor moving in the hall. She looked up just as he knocked.

"Shiandra, dear child, it's time to rise and feed an old man before our journey."

She smiled and replaced the statue in its hiding place. "Of course, Master Ledor." Her time was still to come, but come it would.

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