Return of the Dragon (The Dragon's Champion Book 6) by Sam Ferguson

longer lying upon the floor, and there was no warlock
in the doorway.
    Darkness had fallen outside, which meant that now the
chandelier inside the chamber created a mirror-like effect on all the walls so
that no matter which way Erik turned, he saw himself. His
red, puffy eyes and his guilt-stricken face.
    Still, dream or no dream, perhaps Tukai’s words were
right. What if Erik would end up consuming all living with his power in his
futile attempt to save them? After all, he didn’t fit any of the visions that
Allun Rha had seen of the Champion of Truth. Perhaps he was not the right
person. Perhaps he was simply good enough to pass the tests, and with the help
of others able to put down some of the enemies that sought Nagar’s Secret.
Would that mean that he couldn’t conquer the final battle? Or perhaps he was
too strong. What if his power was uncontrollable?
    Goosebumps tightened his skin along his arms and
shoulders. He scooted up to the nearby wall and rubbed his arms furiously. Then
he remembered Tatev’s words about being cold and the sadness hit him again.
Tears would have streamed down his face, but he had no more to give. He dropped
his head into his arms folded atop his knees and sobbed, going mad with grief
and guilt.
     
    *****
     
    Aparen walked through the lush thicket and upon
exiting found a large, emerald pool of water. Njar sat upon the grassy bank
with his legs crossed in front of him. The satyr gestured for Aparen to sit
near him. The young boy sat, with his legs stretched out before him so that
they almost touched the reeds shooting up from the edge of the water.
    “Today, I have a small lesson prepared for you,” Njar
said. “You must simply relax and watch.”
    Aparen nodded his head. “Very well, show it to me,” he
replied. His voice was neither eager nor uninterested. He was accustomed to
Njar, and the goat-man’s lessons, but he wouldn’t go so far as to say he was
completely comfortable with him yet.”
    Njar held out his left hand and his staff appeared
instantly. He touched the head of the staff to the waters. The surface danced
and swirled. Steam rose up and formed figures that waved and shimmered above
the pool. “What is that?”
    Aparen looked and beheld the form of a satyr. “It is a
satyr,” he said. “A being that is half man and half goat.”
    “Not precisely,” Njar replied. Aparen screwed up his
face and cast an impatient glance to Njar. Njar held up a hand. “I am not the
offspring of some human who fell for a goat, that would be preposterous,” he
said. “I am a wholly separate being, created by Terramyr herself, as all of the
Natural Races are.”
    Aparen nodded. “Yes, I remember.”
    Njar gestured to the water with his head. “Then name
all of the Natural Races, let’s see what you know.”
    “Satyrs, minotaurs, and centaurs,” Aparen said.
    “Very good,” Njar replied. His staff touched the water
again and several forms of each race sprung up from the mist. “However, there
are many more. Can you think of any?”
    Aparen thought for a moment. “Gnomes?” he guessed.
    Njar nodded. “Here, let me speed this along.” He
tapped the water with his staff once more and the mists rose high over them.
Njar laid back, folding his arms behind his head as he
smiled and looked up at the images taking shape.
    Aparen did likewise, watching the mist swirl into
different shapes.
    First it formed into a ball. Soon there were masses
upon the globe.
    “This is Terramyr,” Njar said.
    “It is round?” Aparen asked.
    “You didn’t know?” Njar asked astonished. Then he
nodded. “That’s right, you were an apprentice of the
sword, the art of brute force and subjugation. Why would I have thought you
should know anything important?”
    Aparen reddened in the face, but he let the comment
go. He knew the satyr well enough by now to know that the creature meant no
insult by his words, it was simply an observation.
    “The world is indeed round. The masses of land you