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.For one thing, Captain Horith Evanara's ship was gone, crushed into shards of crystal by the weight of a falling dragon.Even had the Captain survived, he could not have denied that Zaor Moonflower was one of the battle's true heroes.Without the dragonriders, without the giant eagles, the flight of evil dragons would have slipped through Evermeet's shields and laid waste the island.And more than that, Amlaruil had faith in the destiny whispered to her by the moonblade Zaor carried.He was destined to rule, and she with him.Bright dreams filled her thoughts as she summoned the silver path that would carry her back to the Towers.But as the whirl and rush of the magic travel faded, she was greeted by the sound of anguished elven mourning.High, wordless keening filled the air as the elves of the Towers gave themselves over to grief.Amlaruil gathered up her skirts and ran for the Tower of the Sun.She burst into the lower chamber, in which stood a single elf, draped and cowled in the robes of the Grand Mage of the Towers."Jannalor! What happened? What is wrong?" she cried."Hush, child." To Amlaruil's surprise, the voice belonged not to Jannalor, but to Nakiasha.The forest elf turned to face the young mage, and lowered the cowl that obscured her tear-streaked face."Do not speak his name while his spirit is yet so near to Evermeet, lest he turn away from Arvandor for love of you."To the young mage, this seemed impossible.For as long as she had lived-nearly three and a half centuries-Jannalor Nierde had ruled the Towers of the Sun and Moon.His calm presence seemed as constant and predictable as the dawn."Surely he is not dead!" she protested."Along with the other magi who ensorcelled the dragons," Nakiasha said sadly."The task was too great, the magic that bound us all together too strained by the battle and by our far distance from each other.You were not part of the Circle, so you could not know.But each of the five magi who went with us to the Eagle Hills attended the silver dragons in separate, distant chambers among the caves.I felt them die when the enchantment was done, yet I could do nothing to save them."Amlaruil stared at her mentor, her thoughts spinning in confusion and stunned grief.Among the magi were many of her closest friends, and nearest kin."How then do you and I still live? It does not seem possible.It does not seem-""Right?" the older elf finished."Do not think that I have not asked that same question, many times.But to do so is to doubt the will of the gods.You and I, Amlaruil, carry the special blessing of the Seldarine.How old do you think me?"The girl blinked, startled by the seeming non sequitur."You are past midlife, perhaps in your fifth century."Nakiasha snorted."Double that, you'd be closer.It will be much the same for you.Do not look so doubtful! You have lived three centuries and more, yet most who behold you take you for a maiden fresh from childhood.And what of your power? You should not have been able to cast the spell upon the dragon alone, and yet you did.You survived, even while those joined in a Circle could not bear the flow of magic.It is a hard fact, but you must accustom yourself to it, for it is your destiny.As is this."The forest elf shrugged off the Grand Mage mantle and came forward to drape it over Amlaruil's shoulders."It was the will of he who ruled these Towers that you succeed him.I but kept it in trust for your arrival."Amlaruil stared at her mentor, unable to take in all that she had said."But I am pledged elsewhere," she whispered."Are you, now?" Nakiasha looked at her shrewdly."Ah.I see the way of it.The young warrior whom you supported through the battle, is it not?"Even so," the sorceress said briskly, not awaiting an answer."Was the nature of your pledge merely that of a young lover, or she who wishes to serve all her People?""Must I choose between them?""Perhaps."Amlaruil's fingers tangled in the folds of the Grand Mage's mantle, as if uncertain whether to draw it close or cast it aside.Yet there was no denying Nakiasha's words.The promises that she and Zaor had exchanged during the long, sweet hours of the night sang in her heart, and she would hold true to them.They were pledged to each other-and to the service of Evermeet.In her heart, Amlaruil knew herself to be Zaor's true queen.But surely a long and difficult road lay before Zaor before he was acclaimed Evermeet's king.Perhaps she could best serve his destiny by accepting that which had been laid upon her by the former Grand Mage.The elf maid lifted her head in an unconscious gesture of command."We must gather the magi.With so many of us gone, there is much that must be done to rebuild the strength of the Towers, and to lift the spirits of those who remain
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