“And above all… what is the stuff in the sink?” Yoichi spoke, waiting for explanations.

“In this ancient stone sink lies the real reason why I do not let anyone into this room, Yoichi,” the gatekeeper answered, surrounded by his usual halo of mystery. ​​

Yoichi gawked at the liquid in front of him. Even struggling with its details, it still looked like normal water.

“This is Therion’s Tear, boy.”

“Uh? Therion? If I remember correctly, it’s the name of the Dragon King. The ruler who in ancient times ruled Lumya and drove the ancient evil demons out”. Yoichi exploited the knowledge gained from Enatsu’s stories.

“Correct. Goldhaven’s Dojo is open to everyone, as you’ve already been told. Any guild warrior or simple citizen of the capital can enter and meditate without a time limit. However, the secret to ascending to true power is contained in here.” After hinting at the true meaning of that strange transparent liquid, Ryutaro dipped his index finger, causing it to swing.

His wrinkled hand traced an elliptical and regular movement, drawing in that strange water a simple geometric shape. At that precise moment, the deepest part of that substance shone with a celestial light, similar to the color of the sky on a sunny summer day.

“Oh. I don’t know if I’ve been going mad, but I thought I saw that substance shine,” Yoichi mumbled, scratching his nape. All the recent information accumulated in his head needed more time to be efficiently catalogued in his mind’s archives.

“It is said that the Dragon King of Lumya died right here, in Goldhaven. Its huge, winged body crashed right in the centre of our city, on a rocky cliff. Built around that precise spot, the central square took the name of ‘Dragonfall Square’, for this very reason”, the old gatekeeper explained.

“Did Therion fall in the centre of Goldahaven?”

“Yes, but Goldhaven did not exist yet. Humanity had recently taken its first steps among the wildlands of Lumya,” he pointed out.

“And what about its tear? How did it end up here? How did it manage to make me travel in space?”

“No one knows the real reason why the last dragon tear ended here, in this area. It belonged to Emperor Tatsui. Along with the ancient tome I showed you, it’s part of the inheritance he left me.”

I still can’t believe it. The father of the current Emperor of Tentochu has chosen to give these intestimable relics to Ryutaro and not to his son, Shinzo. This old monk is being honest… he and Tatsui were good friends, now I have no more doubts. Yoichi pondered, dwelling over the last words.

“Therion’s Tear allows those who dip their hands into it to travel to the deepest part of their subconscious, beyond the limits of rationality. In a nutshell, Yoichi, you fought against your ego,” Ryutaro explained. With those words, the old Dojo guardian tried to make his interlocutor understand that being one of his pupils was a privilege.

“My ego? You mean that the desert and that dragon… they were built up in my own mind?” the young tamer gulped.

“The vision of the Tear never shows anything by accident. Every object, place and detail of what you’ve seen has a precise meaning for you. I allowed a few people to access this power, but none of them ever experienced what you saw, Yoichi.”

The overload of emotions prevailed over calm, and Yoichi stepped back. He failed to control his heartbeat, which accelerated for a moment. How is it that my Oracle is a dragon? How can I have all this power and remember nothing from my past? Who am I then? These were the questions that squeezed his brain in a vice.

Shaking his head and trying to continue that important conversation, Yoichi asked, “can you tell me why Kenji tried to kill me in that vision?”

“I can’t tell you for sure, but… probably, your Oracle doesn’t feel ready to let go because you’re not ready yet, young Yoichi” the monk coldly replied. From his straight answer, it was evident that he had been thinking about what to say for a few minutes. “You described Kenji as a red-winged black dragon, right?” Ryutaro asked.

“Um… yes, but what does that have to do with my question?” Yoichi requested.

Ryutaro did not answer. He lowered himself to the mat and grabbed the ancient tome. Leafing slowly and carefully through ten pages of the book, he reached the one he was thinking about and showed it to Yoichi.

“This is Therion, the King of the Lumya Dragon Dynasty!” he proudly stated. On the page of that ancient book, yellowed like an old scroll, a detailed drawing portrayed Therion in all its majesty.

Equipped with four wings, the colossal black dragon was the anathema of strength and power. The shiny, muscular body was supported by huge dragon-clawed legs, behind which popped a long, very familiar-looking tail.

The long, scaled neck held the elongated head, whose wide nostrils blew fire and scorching lapilli. Two pointed black horns were slightly bent forward, two smaller ones were straight in the middle of the head.

Letting himself go to curiosity, Yoichi approached that picture, appreciating its details. Therion’s pupilless red eyes drew his attention. All his amazement resulted in a feverish shiver that hastily ran behind his back.

“It… it looks like…” Yoichi stared at Kenji. Ryutaro nodded, letting his interlocutor watch the drawing for a few more seconds.

“If you accept to be trained by me, I will be happy to answer all your questions. I kept having some doubts about you, but after you told me about the dragon in the desert… well, there can be no other answer,” Ryutaro spoke. The monk left Yoichi a moment to reflect on his choice, making him realize that that decision could change his life forever.

The thought of the young tamer flew away. In his mind, he was a valiant tamer and touched the skies of Lumya riding Kenji, the last of the dragon demons.