Youth and naive exuberance. Those were what had driven her to leave this place all those years ago. The last time she had seen these stones, Khumax himself had convinced the council to allow drake-kind to emerge from their long seclusion to lend their aid in the war against the shades. She had left with the first flight, a choice that had taken her through the horrors of war, the remorse and stoic relief of peace restored, the joy and strength of love, the grief of loss, and finally the hope that an unborn child brings.

Shaela had changed. Indeed, she had become human and no longer had the form of her dragon kin, but her transformation had been much more than just physical. She was no longer young, no longer naive, no longer exuberant. War had not proven heroic nor glorious; there was no spoil, no exultant victory. The war had been a desperate contest to ensure the survival of those who never deserved the death and blight that it spread upon the land. War took without permission and without remorse. Shaela's brother Grack had been among the first of her kin to fall to the shades, and many more had given their lives before victory was achieved. War had taught her regret and loss of innocence.

As she emerged from the lair entrance onto the lake-shore where the council stones stood, Shaela's heart was heavy with the memories of battles hard-fought, and losses dearly sustained. But grief and regret did not completely fill her thoughts. With a wistful, silent sigh, she clutched the precious package closely to her bosom. A silver-flecked egg, weighing nearly 15 pounds, was what continued to push her forward. Inside the egg, gestating over the space of many years, her child slowly grew. It was her last remaining connection to her beloved husband Tharon.

It was the unhatched child that had convinced Shaela to return to the northern mountains, to the home of her kin, the silver dragons. Though her body was no longer drake-kind, she knew that she was also not quite human. Her long silver hair and dragon-like longevity had set her apart from mankind. Once Tharon had aged and passed on, leaving her still vibrant with apparent youth, the other humans had come to avoid her more and more, until she had longed to leave human society and return to her ancestral home.

It was an uncertain anticipation that overshadowed her thoughts now. How would the council of elders judge her choice to abandon her dragon form to become human? Would her marriage to a human be looked on with mercy or disdain? And what of her unhatched child, who the god Gilean himself had proclaimed would not be of pure race? Would a half-breed hatchling be accepted or shunned in drake society? If she and her child were rejected here, in her true home, to where could she turn?

She had to try. For the child and for Tharon's memory, she had to try.

Steeling herself, she gathered the hard-earned courage that war had taught her, and climbed the petition stone that stood before the three council elders.