Delgar frowned at Daelyn's question, looking the Tuatha de Danaan in the eye, but failing to match his gaze. Finally, he spoke. “What is my destiny?”
    Daelyn smiled. “A clever answer,” he said. “But I cannot reveal your wyrd to you now. I'm not even entirely sure what it is. But I do know what you can do.”
    “What will you do with him?” Fleot’heortan asked, head arching upwards.
    “I will take him to place where he can learn,” Daelyn stated. “Surely you sensed his command of magic?”
    The Dragon nodded. “I had thought him an apprentice. I had expected a Tuatha de Danaan from your description.”
    “He is not an immortal,” Daelyn said. “But he can be a wizard.” He turned to Delgar. “Your time here is over. Some day you may return, but for now you must come with me.”
    “Where will you take me?” Delgar asked.
    “To the south,” Daelyn answered. “There is a very good school there.”
    “You want me to learn magic.”
    Daelyn nodded. “Yes.”
    “But what if I don’t want to learn?”
    “What will you do? Go home?”
    Delgar looked down, a tear rolling down his cheek. “That wasn't fair.”
    “Life is not fair,” Daelyn said. “You have potential, Delgar, and I will take you somewhere you can make use of it. Will you come, or do you want to sit here and talk to an old Dragon for the rest of your years?”
    Delgar glanced at Fleot’heortan, but the Dragon only lowered its head. “I would go if I were you, Delgar. We may meet again some time.”
    Delgar nodded. “Then I will go with you, Daelyn. Farewell, Fleot’heortan.”
    “Farewell, Delgar.”
    Daelyn motioned to the tunnel connected to the hoard cavern. “The exit is this way.”
    “You know the way out?”
    “I got in, didn’t I?”
    “But how will we see? You didn’t bring a torch.”
    The Tuatha de Danaan only smiled.
    Delgar shook his head and stepped into the tunnel, watching as his shadow grew long in the light of the hoard. He suddenly felt a strange heat, and when he looked back, Daelyn was there, hand raised. Delgar’s eyes widened as he saw Daelyn's hand glow with a soft white light.
    “Follow me, Delgar,” Daelyn said. He led Delgar along the long hallway. In the gentle glow Delgar noticed the rough walls bore the faded remains of murals. While he couldn’t make out any faces, he saw small forms holding court, surrounded by riches. For a moment he stopped, wondering who the ancient Dwarf-king was, now all but forgotten. Then Daelyn tapped him on the shoulder, and they continued on their way.
    They came to a large room, and Delgar looked up to see the ceiling high above him. On the walls he saw more murals. On the left side a great battle was depicted, where Dragons and Dwarves fought together against what appeared to be an extremely powerful mage.
    “The last battle,” Daelyn explained. “All the elder races remember the struggle for freedom against the Dragon Masters. It was the only time that Dwarves, Tuatha de Danaan, Cyclops, Dragons, Fir Bolgs and Formorians fought together for a common goal. After that, the elder races went their separate ways. The Tuatha de Danaan and the Dragons, however, have always kept their close ties.”
    “Where was mankind then?”Delgar asked.
    “Humankind had not risen then,” Daelyn replied. “Nobody is certain where your people came from, but they rose out of the ashes of the war after the final battle. At least, that is what I heard.”
    “So you didn't see this war?”
    Daelyn shook his head. “I am only around three thousand years old, Delgar, and I have only been a soldier for a thousand of those years. The Great Rebellion was over two hundred millennia ago.”
    “Do know what this room was used for?” Delgar said.
    Daelyn shook his head. “Fleot’heortan has been the master of these caverns for longer than I have been alive. He may know, but I do not. This way, Delgar.”
    Again Daelyn led him into a large passage to the right, and Delgar marveled at the intricate carvings and decorations, most of which had not seen any light in millennia. To the left several passages branched off, and Delgar swallowed, a chill running down his spine. If he had used his right hand on the way down to guide himself, he would have been lost in a maze of tunnels.
    They walked for what seemed like hours, Daelyn tirelessly holding his hand out in front to provide light. Delgar noticed that the light seemed to frighten away the ghosts which had appeared to him when he had come down, and the tunnels were silent except for his and Daelyn’s footsteps.
    Suddenly, Delgar felt a blast of warm air, and sunlight shone on his face. Beside him, Daelyn sighed with relief.
    “At last,” the Tuatha de Danaan said. “I have always preferred the open air to underground tunnels. I find caves stifling.”
    “For a while I thought I would never see sunlight again,” Delgar said, shielding his eyes and wincing as he gazed at the afternoon sun as it dipped behind some clouds.
    “We must head south,” Daelyn stated. “We will walk to Taerraland.”
    With that, the two travelers began to trek through the forest, each lost in thought. The woods were filled with the sounds of birds and small animals, and Delgar felt strangely at home with Daelyn, as though the Tuatha de Danaan’s ties to nature made Delgar belong as well.
    They finally made camp as the sun began to set, Daelyn finding a pleasant clearing to rest in. They spent half an hour gathering deadwood, and then Daelyn used a tinderbox to make a fire.
    As they sat by the fire, warming themselves, Daelyn leaned over to Delgar. “What do you know of magic?”
    Delgar blinked. “I know nothing. How do you know I have potential for magic?”
    Daelyn sat back. “I felt it the moment I first saw you. And, when I sought you later, in the ruins of your village I could sense that you had used some.”
    Delgar shook his head, trying to push away his memories of that horrible moment. “I had no idea what I was doing. It acted all on its own.”
    “You will learn control,” Daelyn said. “They will teach you in Taerraland. Uncontrolled magic is very dangerous.”
    “I noticed that you have magic,” Delgar said.
    Daelyn nodded. “I am a Tuatha de Danaan. My people have a gift for what you call magic.”
    “What kind of magic is it?”
    “I suppose it is best described as a sort of nature magic,” Daelyn stated.
    Delgar blinked. “Does this mean you can command nature?”
    Daelyn shook his head. “Most magic can influence things, but can never command them. I cannot control nature, but I can influence it to do things. However, I cannot make something do what is contrary to its nature. I cannot make the wind choke somebody to death, nor can I make a tree form a mountain. I cannot make a deer eat meat, either.”
    “Is there a magic which can? Control things, I mean,” Delgar asked.
    Daelyn nodded. “There is, but it is used mainly by those who wish to perform evil. Shaping and influencing is one thing, but controlling something is another. You should rest now; we have a long day ahead of us.”
    “Don’t you have to rest?”
    “I’m a Tuatha de Danaan. I don’t need as much rest as you mortals do.”
    Delgar nodded and lay back. As he heard the fire hiss and crackle, he drifted into a gentle sleep.


As they traveled through the woodlands, Delgar began to understand just how vast they were. For days they headed southwards, making their way gently through the thicket, Daelyn somehow always finding the easiest possible path. Towards the end of the day they would forage for food, as Daelyn's supplies were limited to what he could carry.
    Sometimes the Tuatha de Danaan would stop and look around the forest, almost as if he felt something coming, and then change the route. Delgar heard and felt nothing, and he wondered what Daelyn was sensing.
    On the fifth day, they came to the ruins of a village. The cottages were blackened and burnt, and a large pyre lay in the center of the hamlet.
    Daelyn looked around the village square for a moment, and then he looked at the pyre. “This happened some time ago.”
    “Are we far inland?” Delgar asked.
    Daelyn shook his head. “We’ll actually see the coast as we head southwards.”
    Delgar looked at the pyre and back to the devastation, and then he cursed. “Those damned goblins. Will this ever end?”
    “It will,” Daelyn asserted. “This happens every six hundred years or so. And the last time it happened they got just as far inland before they were stopped.”
    “How do you know?”
    “I fought in that campaign,” Daelyn replied. “I am a soldier, after all.”
    But Daelyn would say no more about it, and they returned to the woods, continuing their journey to Taerraland.
    Two days later, Delgar brought the subject up again as they sat by the fire, waves crashing to the west. Clouds hid most of the stars, but the moon broke through, bathing the clearing in a soft glow.
    “So you’re a soldier?” Delgar asked. “When did you start fighting?”
    “I answered the call to battle against the Formorians just like everybody else did,” Daelyn stated. “The war was long and brutal. After that I swore I would never fight again unless I absolutely had to.”
    “But you are still a soldier,” Delgar pointed out.
    Daelyn nodded. “Of course. Once an immortal becomes a soldier, he can never stop being one. Just as I am still a bard, as I was three thousand years ago.”
    “Can you sing for me, then?” Delgar asked.
    Daelyn smiled. “Perhaps later. I do not feel the mood for singing right now.”
    “So what do you do right now?”
    “Right now I wander,” Daelyn replied. “I want to see as much as possible.”
    “It’s a large world,” Delgar said. “How long have you wandered it?”
    Daelyn grinned. “Every world is a large world. And I have all eternity.”
    “Is there more than one world?”
    “There are an infinite number of worlds, all different.”
    “How do you go from one world to another?”
    Daelyn smiled. “You will learn that when you are ready for it. Until then, rest and be glad that you have such a large and wonderful world of your own.”
    Delgar groaned. “When will I be ready?”
    Daelyn shrugged. “Before you can learn to run you must learn to walk. The knowledge will come, be assured of that. But, now you should rest.”
    Delgar put his head to the ground and closed his eyes, the sound of the campfire filling his ears. He dreamed of a great and vast world, and in a clarion moment, realized that he watched his own, until the vision faded.
    Then, he thought he heard Daelyn singing, a sad and beautiful song that touched his very soul. In the song he felt himself journeying over the vast emerald fields of an ancient land, his heart strangely light and carefree. But, he could not be sure of if it had been real or only a beautiful dream.
    And then the sun was shining in his face and Daelyn was offering a friendly hand, the Elven features a joy to behold.
    “I have already broken our camp,” Daelyn stated. “I was just waiting for you.”
    Delgar stood and stretched, inhaling the pleasant air. “I heard singing last night.”
    Daelyn raised an eyebrow. “Did you? How interesting.”