Nahern looked over from sipping a drink from one of those ceramic pear shaped mugs. With entirely too much grace, he let the mug rest on his knee while leaning back.
"Your eye was infected with dungeon rot, if allowed to continue it would continue into your brain and kill you. Even with immunity, infections grow quickly in our world. The cold makes it hard for the body to fight. The only way to save your life was to remove the infected eye. I took a chance to follow an old prophecy."
"A prophecy?" Oz asked again. "What?"
In a soft voice, Nahern spoke. It was unnatural to hear him speak too softly, Oz was so used to his loud and confident manner.
"With the Dragon's Eye to guide us, from the dungeon afar, from within we shall unlock the path to the Tower's star."
Oz heard those words and her heart nearly stopped, she crawled over the furs practically into Nahern's lap. "Say that again." She demanded, eyes wide. It was impossible he knew those words. Nahern blinked, repeating the verse only to hear Oz following along in perfect cadence.
"How that's impossible." The prince breathed in amazement. Oz though looked less amused, her face pale and drawn as she scrambled to her feet. Half skidding across the floor as she dug into an old bookcase, moving and sliding books out of the way until she pulled out a small cigar box from a hiding place.
"This is impossible. It has to be impossible." She whispered, opening the old box. The musky cologne of her grandfather hit her hard, enough to draw tears to her eyes. She brought it back over, nearly collapsing on the furs. Inside was a simple small leather journal and a compass. The leather was so fragile one had to be careful as she opened it to one of the carefully marked pages. Old pressed flowers, leaves, old ticket stubs filled the pages of her grandfather's travel journal.
She opened to the familiar page, staring back at her were the familiar words written in still crisp blue ink against the yellowed pages. Her grandfather's handwriting was bold and neat, even in his old age it was perfect.
With the Dragon's Eye to guide us,
From the dungeon afar,
From within, we shall unlock,
The path to the Tower's star,
With the Dragon's Saint,
We will overcome fate,
The challenge of the dungeons nine,
And claim the Tower's prize divine.
As the Dragon's Eye glows,
Our enemies will fall,
For we are fearless in the face of fear,
As she fulfills the Dragon's call.
"Grandfather told me this poem so many times I could recite it in my sleep." Oz's voice nearly broke. Her hands shook as she held the journal, it had been years since she dared open it. Much to her shock, something loosened between the long yellowed pages. Their eyes watched as an old polaroid fluttered to the ground.
Nahern reached down and picked up the picture from the ground.
"Your grandfather?" he asked. He flipped the picture around, showing Oz's grandfather smiling brightly while he held two blue-skinned young elves on his broad shoulders. Two very familiar elves that now sat before her.
Oz felt her head spinning. "You old bastard," she said, "what else did you keep secret from me?" She had to lie down, her world order shattered. She read this journal front to back hundreds of times! why had she never seen this picture? How hidden was it? What else had he hidden away from her?
Her grandfather knew them, knew about the doors between dungeons. And never told her anything. He could have warned her! Anything!
"We didn't know," said Nahern, concerned as Selene rushed to get a cold cloth from the kitchen area. "We were children when we met him, he visited one day when we were barely out of our safety furs."
"He helped us out of the dungeon we had stumbled into," said Selene, draping the cool cloth over Oz's forehead. "He was a very kind man who seemed to only be interested in adventure. Once he helped us, he only remained enough to take that picture then leave again."
"Why?" Oz asked. "Why would he do that? It had to be before my mother married, because he never went adventuring after he took an arrow to his knee."
"He said it was important," said Nahern. "He said that the dungeons were dangerous, and that we needed to be prepared."
"But why didn't he tell me?" Oz asked. "Why didn't he tell anyone?"
"I don't know," said Nahern, shaking his head. "Perhaps it was too dangerous for others to know. Clearly the secret got out somehow, given the bastards that leaked to our world."
"Maybe he was afraid," said Selene, in defense. "He knew that if people found out about the doors, they would use them for their own purposes. And clearly they did."
Oz shook her head. "I don't understand," she said. "I don't understand any of this."
"We don't either. But we're here now, and we're going to help you, dear saint." Selene smiled, patting Oz's arm.
"Thank you," Oz said. "So, this means...I'm the Dragon's Saint?" She reached up to touch her eye, "You put a dragon's eye into my head?"
"Yes, I was hoping that you fulfilled the prophecy. I inserted the gemstone in hopes it would heal you of the infection, given it is a very powerful stone. And given your awakened state, I will say it was a success."
"So...it's a gemstone? I don't feel anything." Oz felt the need to scratch her eye at the idea.
"More like a reflecting pearl, dear saint. It will empower you." Selene offered. "You seem pale, why don't you retire tonight? We should return to our people for the evening, so that they won't be worried. I'm sure you would like some time to reflect."
Oz sighed at that and sat up, "It would be good to get some sleep. I'll walk you out, will you be back tomorrow?"
She hated how needy she sounded, but she grew attached to them. It had been so long since she felt she had honest friends. Selene smiled, "Of course. You need to start your training, dear saint."
"Joy. Training." Oz deadpanned.