Was she doing the right thing? The young elven woman sighed, and looked up through the canopy of trees, as if to find an answer there. That had always been the question, ever since the night of the fire that took her father’s life, so many years ago, and put his adolescent daughter in his place as Speaker of the Stars.

She had been on retreat for over a month now, deep within the Vallenwood, in a small vale kept by the priests of Zandreya. Now, on her way home to face the future – her controversial wedding, her people and her family – she still had not found any comfort or wisdom to answer her question. Only a sort of acceptance.. that, right or wrong, she would be able to face the consequences of her decisions.

Overhead, a bird called out its territory, and Maegwyn abandoned her serious thinking, smiling up at him. Then she looked about, startled to find she had strayed off her path, away from the direction home, and in another direction entirely. She stood inside a break in the trees, that gave way before a small, mossy cliff face. Although it was wild and tangled now, Maegwyn knew the spot well; it had been the home of her childhood companion, the young silver dragon called Shadra. To one side, the cliff had cracked open, revealing a passage into the rock big enough for a small dragon.

Looking at the cave mouth, covered with overgrown and choking weeds, Maegwyn wondered what had happened to her childhood friend. Did she sleep, deep inside that cave, or had she moved on to another Lair? A sense of shame filled Maegwyn, that she had not found the time to come and seek out the dragon before.

Noticing that some of the growth was bent and twisted as if some creature had forced its way past, Maegwyn felt the first stirrings of foreboding. The broken vines parted easily before her as she crossed the threshold into Shadra’s Lair.

Inside, the passage was dark, smelling slightly of fresh water and the underlying musk of dragon. Fond memories of the musical, childish laughter - elf and dragon - echoed forth from the stone passageway, long trapped away, but it died as the sense of wrongness increased. The long, twisting tunnel went on for quite some time before reaching Shadra’s actual lair. Usually the passage was well lit with magic globes, but they had all been extinguished.

As she knelt to light her lantern, Maegwyn saw large boot-prints in the packed-dirt of the ground. They seemed relatively fresh, and tracing them with a finger, she wondered who they belonged to. There was no evidence of a return set of prints. Whoever it was, hadn’t left… or never would. And there were none of Shadra’s distinctive claw marks. She had not entered or left the cave in quite some time.

At least, she hadn’t left walking.

Maegwyn hurried as quickly as she dared through the winding tunnel. The years had dulled her memory of the twisting, sometimes treacherous path and a sense of wrongness made her cautious. Before she reached the last bend that would open up to Shadra’s lair, she noticed the flickering of an unnatural light against the wall. Extinguishing her lantern, she paused to let her eyes adjust and stayed in the shadows, as she had learned during her time in the clan.

Slowly creeping towards the lair, with her back against the wall, Maegwyn’s sensitive ears began to pick up the echoes of … chanting. Perplexed, she strained to make out the words, but it was all indecipherable babble, even to her practiced senses. The flames jumped higher and continued their dance against the wall, but somehow the added light didn’t bring any comfort. It was not the light of goodness and purity, but rather tinted red, angry and evil.

Just as she was about to clear the last corner and peek around to see what was happening, Maegwyn heard a terrible, pain-filled roar. In the narrow stone passage the volume was loud enough to knock her off her feet, but it was the depth of the pain in that cry that made her clap her hands over her ears and double over.. As suddenly as it began, the sound stopped, leaving the tunnel in a silence as unnatural as the scream had been.

Her head cleared, ears still ringing, and her heart hammered against her chest as Maegwyn regained her balance and drew her sword, already turning the quick, pulsing rhythms of her body into song. She threw herself around the corner, and into the silence.

Shadra was gone. The robed human male who stood in her lair like he was the master of it whirled at her entrance, and as she braced to attack he simply grinned and vanished.

Shadra… Maegwyn moaned softly as she sank to the floor, her sword falling from her numb fingers.

She didn’t recognize the man but she did recognize the grey robes he wore - and the expression of evil intent on his face. How could Shadra let herself be vulnerable to a Knight of Shadow? Naïve, but not stupid.

Shadra… Where was she? Dragon’s didn’t just disappear without bodies. The mage must have sent her somewhere… But what could a Shadow Knight do with a live dragon? She only knew them to be in the habit of killing the goodly creatures…

Maegwyn’s mind whirred with these thoughts and again she felt the shame for not having sought the dragon out earlier. Perhaps she had gotten lonely and been tricked by the Knight…

So caught up in her thoughts Maegwyn nearly missed it when a glimmer of silver moved suddenly in the corner. Slowly, she realized that her breathing was not the only sound that filled the cave. Rising unsteadily, Maegwyn crept across the stone floor towards the corner.

Once she was closer, Maegwyn realized the glimmer of silver was hair. Her curiosity rising, Maegwyn sheathed her sword and knelt beside the shuddering figure. It was curled so tightly upon itself that Maegwyn could get no idea of gender or race, only the thick curtain of silver hair and pale glimpses of naked skin. A swell of pity rose inside her grief for the poor soul who had obviously been as much a victim as Shadra. Reaching out hesitantly, Maegwyn touched the hair that cloaked it. It was soft and fine beneath her fingertips, so like a baby’s hair, except much longer than a child could be born with.

The creature attached to the hair moaned pathetically, and its shivering became more violent. It made a sound - a weird, croaking croon that sounded completely unlike anything Maegwyn had ever heard, and completely unnatural. She drew back startled, and then tentatively reached out her hand to brush back the hair from where a face must surely be. As she did so, the creature stirred, turning its head so that the hair fell away, and Maegwyn rocked back in alarm. It was an elven girl, staring up at Maegwyn with anguished, pain-filled eyes.

“Oh you poor thing..” Maegwyn took off her cloak, leaning forward to wrap it around the girl and drawing her unresisting form to her. The girl opened her mouth, the strange croak again issuing forth. She had been lying directly on the stone floor of the cave, with nothing but her long silver hair to keep her warm, but it was a warm summer day and the cave was pleasant and dry. Maegwyn frowned, puzzled at the violence with which the girl continued to shiver.

Cupping the girl’s face gently in her hands, Maegwyn tilted her head up to peer into the young elf’s eyes. As she’d suspected, the pupils were dilated with shock. She would have to be kept warm… Maegwyn paused, staring into the girl’s wide eyes. There was something.. something wrong with her eyes. The shape of the pupil.. the intense blue that was as if someone had cut small pieces of sky… they reminded her of…

Maegwyn trembled slightly, staring into the pain-filled eyes of the young elf. “Shadra?” she whispered.