Eirian lay curled in her ancient home, a castle ruin she had inhabited before meeting Irotem. Most of their goals had been accomplished. She reminisced and mourned.

In her memories, Irotem turned to her, his eyes shining with determination.

- - -

"Brightest light, what is a true test of sincerity?"

“My continuing tolerance of your rhetorical questions?”

He smiled.

"When I first gained my Sight, I thought I would be able to prevent every tragedy.
As we now know, the best anyone can hope for is to choose the path that results in the fewest deaths, the least suffering.

The test is: whether or not I make an exception for myself when I am one of those unlucky few."

She sighed;

"I have complete confidence in your sense of ‘honor’ and ‘justice’ and its ability to compel you to do whatever you believe is your duty. 

…Even when making an exception for yourself might easily save more people in the future."

"I have decided that doing the right thing now takes greater precedence than the mere possibility of opportunities to do good things at some unknown time. There are lines to be drawn; I can be replaced. I have the opportunity to do good, here and now, not at some amorphous future time that may never come to pass."

She glared at him for a moment.

“This is just one of the reasons there are so few who are both kind and powerful. The selfless are ever eager to find an ‘honorable’ hill on which to die.” She hissed

He calmly waited for her to finish, “And would you prefer I was any other way?”

“Your sense of honor is endearing…but I would have you survive all the same. Why did you suddenly decide to take upon yourself some idealistic moral obligation? Yes, it is important to keep one’s hunting grounds healthy, but a hundred thousand prey will never be worth one dragon’s life.”

He shook his head wearily, “Were I to spare myself at the expense of thousands, I would be no better than any other tyrant who claims to uphold the ‘greater good’. For that matter, by human standards, are there any of your kind that would not be considered tyrannical by nature?”

Her eyes flared brightly. Then she sighed. “Perhaps…no. Probably not. We don’t survive millennia by being soft.”

“I am truly sorry to leave you; Nevertheless, I do not regret my decision.” He said softly

“I know. I have nothing to say that will dissuade you. And I will not prevent you from doing what you believe is right.” She replied, resigned.
- - -

And the fool she was, she had simply let him give up, accepting his chosen fate like a prey creature! So what if his sacrifice saved thousands of worthless humans? None of them mattered to her!
Why did he have to get all sentimental, after all those years of intelligence? …Well, he was always a bit sentimental, but not to that degree of idiocy!

It was too late now, so why couldn’t she stop thinking about it?

There had remained a few unknown strands, at Irotem’s final glance, but they hadn’t known if intervention would be of any use resolving them.
She put that life behind her. She would sleep for a few decades now. Let the world fend for itself. She was done watching it like a clumsy hatchling.
She closed her eyes and slept.

She woke to a soft clatter of wood on stone.

Eirian opened one eye. A familiar carved figure sat on a pile of rubble beside her. In recent years, Yarn had taken to wearing a gray veil over her face and wearing a short, flowing robe.

“You have returned to your home.” Yarn observed in her soothing, rhythmic voice.

“After too long.” Eirian said tiredly.

“So he is gone, then?”

“Despite my best efforts. As stubborn as always.”

“You and he eased much suffering. You have my thanks.” Yarn said. Her voice carried sweet melodic undertones.

“That was never my goal, but I suppose he would have be glad to hear that.”

“Perhaps, but that goal is often misunderstood. I hope he would have been one of the few, but perhaps not. One does not need to understand the goal to advance its purpose. Regardless, he fulfilled his purpose, as you have yours.”  Yarn continued a low, ethereal humming after she finished speaking.

The dragon snorted in agreement and closed her eye once more.

But something about the words irritated her.

She tried opening her eye again, but it was as if a great weight held it closed. Adrenaline rushed through her, and her eyes shot open.

Yarn’s humming died off.
“You dragons have such resilience.” She murmured.

“Who are you?” Eirian growled

“Yarn, as I have always been.”

“No, you are…something else. I felt a new influence in your song. You are not the Yarn I knew.”

“I fulfill my purpose.” She insisted calmly

Eirian felt power surge from Yarn. A ripple in space expanded outward from her and thin tears appeared in reality, revealing glimpses of a murky void beyond.

She leapt for the sky, trying to outpace the ripple, but she had reacted too late. It washed over her. She roared as the tiny rifts rent her flesh and scales. A shower of blood rained down onto her home. She struggled to gain height, but her breathing was heavy and labored.
We were deceived…But by what? And for how long?

She saw Yarn easily keep pace with her below.

Her wounds were small, but many. She wouldn’t make it far.

I am going to die. She realized. It didn’t bother her as much as she expected. Perhaps it was inevitable.

She closed her eyes. Her wings faltered.

Her eyes opened again. His plans. They were based on a falsehood. Yarn was compromised…But what can be done? I am spent.
She had an idea. It had many flaws, but it was all she had.
To think, a mortal possessing one of the...Mother would kill me. Alas. I’ll not survive to disappoint her further.

She prepared a final spell, that her husband might rest peacefully.

- - - - -

Meyriv walked through the village on his way back to the forest. Life was bearable, almost. Still, he shuddered under the thought that he was only ever one simple mistake away from pain exquisite.

As he walked, his ears began ringing.
As the ringing intensified, he stopped. Rather than pain, the strands of his curse itself began to tremble and flex. He observed with trepidation.

Rynisia, are you doing something?

No, what would I be doing? Her reply seemed genuinely confused.

His curse stilled. Then with a horrible lurch his soul was whisked elsewhere.

 

He found himself standing in the air, high above a rocky desert landscape. In front of him was a silver dragon frozen in flight. Drops of blood hung in the air, like millions of perfect rubies spilling from ten thousand razor-thin cuts.

As he considered the scene before him, Eirian’s human guise appeared next to him.

She opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off.

“I could destroy you right now.” He observed.

She winced, but nodded. “You could…but you don’t need to. The wounds are internal as well. I will perish not long after this spell ends.”

He felt how it galled her to admit such weakness. That, more than anything, indicated to him that she spoke truthfully.

“So…don’t tell me you dragged me here to enjoy the view?”

“Hardly…I…we…made a mistake,” She said reluctantly.

The absurdity of the statement broke him.

He laughed, “What? A mistake? YOU? Impossible.”
He couldn’t contain himself; he cackled and wheezed as tears streamed down his eyes.

She seethed with anger, but beneath the anger was shame. And finally, guilt.
“As much as it might please you to see me reduced to this, I brought you here for a purpose,” She said angrily. “Will you listen to my final words, or will you take upon yourself the consequences if my message falls on deaf ears?”

That sobered him up. He wasn’t sure how much that would count for his curse, but he wasn’t about to risk it.
“Fine. Out with it,” He snapped.

“We worked to contain certain dangers. Rynisia can explain much of that. I have learned…”  She glanced at something far below,

“…that a crucial piece of our knowledge was flawed. The one called Yarn is serving her own goals and none else.”

“So what?” He yawned mockingly.

“Let me finish!” She hissed “Yarn’s largest contribution to our cause was when she destroyed the Lemnarch, which was itself a danger to the world, albeit a very gradual one. We never learned exactly how she vanquished it, and she would say only that she tricked it into underestimating the implications of an oath.
It wasn’t concerning at the time, as she had been a reliable ally for centuries. Now, I suspect that was a great mistake. If you wish to succeed where we failed, your best bet is to learn what happened there, and beyond that, what force ensnared her.”

“Lovely. Is that all?” He said sarcastically.

“Do not take this lightly! I didn’t have to tell you any of this! Perish if you must, but do not pretend you were not warned!”

“I am taking it seriously.
But if I decide to do anything about it, understand that I will not do any of it for you. Your plans can all burn for all I care.
No, if I do anything, it will be to prove that I am better than you. Better than all those who wield power without heeding the devastation wrought downstream.”

She sighed, and he felt her exhaustion. It was deeper than any he had known, in himself or others. He realized the spell must be wearing thin.

“Will the curse end, when you die?” He asked

“No, it is inextricably bound to your soul.”

“I suspected as much.” He said angrily, “I’m sure it was all for the greater good?”

“I cannot undo it, but…” she seemed reluctant to go on. Finally, she continued “I can give you its source. With it, you should be able to…complete the curse, in a manner of speaking.”
“Why would I want to—”
“I cannot explain in the time I have. Once you have it, you should gain more understanding of what I mean.”

She held out a hand. A small silver sphere materialized there. She paused.
“This is a Primeval Heart; specifically, the one called the Mirrorheart. It is ancient, priceless, and potent, but beware; mortals were never intended to have this treasure. If any dragon discovers you possess it, they will never stop until it has been reclaimed.”

“So why are you, as a dragon, willing to give it to me?”

She sighed. “Consider it a token of my regret. Giving this to you will not alter the past, but perhaps it will help you change the future.”

She handed it to him. It dissolved into his soul and he felt…different.

His ears started ringing, and he found himself returning to his body.