“Ah, nirvana!” Wataru said, repeating something he had heard an old man saying once at a hot spring near Tokyo.
Kee Keema laughed. “What’s nirvana?”
“Well, it’s kind of like paradise. That’s one of the words we have in the real world for talking about the place where God lives.”
“So it’s like the Tower of Destiny?” Kee Keema asked, then seemed to regret it. He didn’t want to remind Wataru.
Wataru pretended not to notice. “A little different. People go there when they die.”
“So everybody just goes there when their time comes?”
“Well, not exactly. Only good people go. The bad ones go to a place called Hell.”
It occurred to Wataru to wonder for the first time where people from Vision went when they died. He had never even thought to ask.
Kee Keema sunk into the water up to his chin, his eyes half closed. “When we die, we become light,” he told Wataru.
“Light?”
“Aye, we become the light of the sun and shine upon the land. And then, when it’s our turn, we are born again. But, if you are bad in life, you don’t become light—no, you sink into the Abyss of Chaos. Don’t think you even get to be reborn from down there.”
That reminded Wataru that the Precept-King of Dela Rubesi had said much the same thing. If he died having broken his oath with the Goddess then his soul would be impure, and he would be unable to be born into the next life.
“You don’t think people in Vision are reborn as people in the real world, do you?” Wataru muttered, half to himself.
But, after a short while, Kee Keema answered, “I hope that would be true. Then I could meet you in the real world and become friends there too.”
Wataru laughed. He could picture Kee Keema in the real world being a deliveryman for one of those express package companies. He’d certainly make the biggest, strongest, nicest, and most popular deliveryman Wataru could imagine.
Kutz and Meena were relaxing in another part of the hot springs. The water felt exquisite, but the heat had opened the wounds they suffered from the Stinging Mist.
“It really stings,” Kutz said with a frown. “Jozo’s mother was saying something about an ointment—maybe I’ll have to get me some of that later. That cut beneath your eye is swelling.”
The salty water of the springs stung.
“Say, Kutz…”
“Yeah?”
“I was wondering about what Jozo was saying about the seven pillars.”
Kutz raised an eyebrow.
“Isn’t it strange to call them pillars? I mean, you usually think of pillars as being intended to support something. I got to thinking —maybe it’s got something to do with the Great Barrier of Light.”
Kutz was silent for a while before responding. “The dragons were deeply involved with the making of Vision, so it wouldn’t surprise me if there was a connection. But I wouldn’t think about it too much.”
Meena smiled and nodded. Something about being relaxed after so much danger and the chill of the flight made tears come to her eyes. She hurriedly dipped her face in the water.
When they left the hot springs, Jozo was waiting for them. “We’re ready for the council. I’ll show you to the cavern where it’s held.”
The place he took them next was the largest cavern they had seen so far. It looked as big as a hangar you might find for one of those jumbo jets at an airport. The torches burning here and there struggled to light the place, and the high ceiling was lost in darkness. Holes for ventilation in the walls let in cool blasts of air, making the cavern chilly after the warmth of the springs.
Between the walls and the rocky protrusions on the ground sat dozens and dozens of dragons. They were of all different colors and sizes, some with long tails, others with barbs running down the length of their wings. Every giant black dragon eye in the room was turned toward Wataru. Their breathing rasped loud in the cavern.
The wyrmking sat upon a particularly high outcropping of rock at one end of the cavern. Sitting—or possibly sleeping. His wings were folded, his legs pulled underneath his body, and his tail hung limply down the side of the rock. When Wataru and the others were brought into a small open area in the middle of the room, he lifted his head slowly and with great solemnity. But his eyelids were only half open.
The wyrmking was roughly the same size as Jozo’s parents. His scales had lost their luster and most of their red color, becoming a faded violet. Where the scales met at his neck and joints, Wataru could see wrinkle after wrinkle of tough dragonhide. He was wearing a shining crown upon his head, directly between his two horns.
Seven dragons sat to the right and left of the wyrmking’s seat. These must have been the leaders known as the seven pillars. Their scales were a dark blackish-red, and they each wore necklaces of a different color.
“Welcome, guests.” One dragon stood, looking down at Wataru and his friends, then turned to look at the other dragons gathered there. “As decreed by our customs, and before the wyrmking, the Council of Fang and Wing shall now convene.”
As one, the dragons lowered their heads to the rocky floor. Wataru saw young dragons, smaller even than Jozo, mimicking their parents.
Jozo, flanked by his parents, took a step forward and introduced the guests. He also explained that he was the one who brought them to the island.
When he was finished, Wataru took a step forward. “I thank you for greeting us and making us feel welcome on such short notice. My thanks to the wyrmking, and all the dragons of the Isle of Dragon.”
The chamber was perfectly silent. Wataru could hear his heart beating in his chest. “With a scale from Jozo, I made a wyrmflute, and since then he has saved me twice from danger. Now I have called on Jozo’s strength to carry me this far…”
The wyrmking lifted his head and called out to Wataru. “Traveler!”
“Y-yes?”
“Can you show us your proof that you are a Traveler, so that all may see.”
Wataru drew his Brave’s Sword from the scabbard at his waist and held it aloft. One of the seven pillars closest to Wataru took it from him and held it before the wyrmking.
The wyrmking’s eyelids were still half-closed, yet he viewed the blade with great interest. It was soon returned to Wataru’s hand.
“Is the Watcher Wayfinder Lau well?”
The wyrmking’s sudden switch in tone from the stiff formality of a moment before caught Wataru off-guard. He couldn’t be sure, but it seemed like the ancient dragon was smiling.
“Yes! He’s doing fine!”
“When you came to Vision, did the Wayfinder not give you a pendant?”
Wataru had completely forgotten about the pendant after wearing it so long. It occurred to him now that this was the proof of his status as Traveler, more than the sword. Wataru hastily pulled up the pendant. But when he attempted to take it off, the wyrmking motioned for him to stop.