We are all born pure, thought Dahal Savithar, and then the world defiles us. I shall rejoice in expunging the filth that is the world.
Far ahead, across the ocean, was the place where the first spark was to be lit.
As he stood on the prow of the Chalivon, his blond locks and dark blue longcoat billowing in the ocean breeze, Dahal could see no trace of Kesalzhin Island – at least, not with his Human eyes. His ability to scan the auras of Humans and Dragons from great distances, through sea and stone, was not his strong point – he usually left that task to others. Nonetheless, he could feel something over the dusky horizon; a cluster of life, like stars seen through smoke. This scanning accomplishment, however, meant little more to Dahal than the petty limitations of his Human physical senses. He set his standards far higher. His mind’s mastery over matter was a source of far greater pride, but greater still was the privilege of exclusive knowledge. How many mortals in history knew