"I can only, with complete honesty, say that I truly know not."

  Her candid admission hung in the air, causing me to pause in my reading, and then I asked, a note of genuine doubt tingeing my voice: "You truly... know not?"

  Winters nodded slowly, a gentle, almost enigmatic smile pying upon her lips.

  "Komoxis, the revered Mother of Dragons, being the very first, the absolute progenitor, of the entire Dragon Cn in this world; this, you must understand, is merely one, albeit prominent, theory concerning the ultimate origin of our kind.

  There are, in fact, a great many such conjectures, such eborate and varying hypotheses, that have been proposed over the millennia."

  "This particur narrative," she continued, gesturing towards the open book, "represents a significant viewpoint within the broader Dragon Mother Origin theory.

  The subsequent, logical assertion stemming from this premise is that Komoxis herself, through some miraculous means, gave birth to the very first generation of the Dragon Cn.

  In other words, those dragons who subscribe to this particur school of thought firmly believe that the Dragon Mother is, quite literally, the singur fount, the ultimate wellspring, from which the entirety of the Dragon Cn has arisen."

  "In addition to this widely discussed Dragon Mother Origin theory, there also exists, among others, the equally compelling Divine Creation theory.

  The Dragon Cn, as you are beginning to perceive, is a quite remarkably, almost unnervingly, perfect race, possessing an extraordinarily long lifespan, brimming with innate, profound wisdom, and naturally endowed with truly formidable, often devastating, physical and magical strength; however, this very state of being so excessively, so comprehensively perfect is, to some philosophical minds, somewhat unnatural, almost a cosmic anomaly.

  Therefore, the proponents of this alternative theory believe that the vital, life-giving blood of the Creation Dragon, after it fell like divine rain upon the nascent Dragon Realm, did not remain a singur entity, but rather divided itself, with purposeful intent, into eight distinct, potent portions, each of which then miraculously transformed into a colossal, shimmering Dragon Egg.

  These eight primordial Dragon Eggs, nurtured by the very essence of the cosmos, eventually hatched, bringing forth the first Eight Elemental Dragon Gods, beings of immense power and wisdom.

  Thereafter, these Eight Dragon Gods, working in harmonious concert, meticulously and artfully created the entirety of the Dragon Cn as we know it today.

  Because our race was, according to this belief, directly and divinely created by Gods, it is, therefore, so utterly, so fwlessly perfect."

  "In addition to these two prominent theories," Winters eborated, her voice a low rumble, "there are, of course, a multitude of other, perhaps less mainstream, yet equally fascinating viewpoints, such as the gradualistic theory of evolution from more primitive forms, the rather intriguing theory of us being extraterrestrial visitors from some distant, unknown star system, and so forth, each with its own proponents and intricate arguments."

  "Extraterrestrial visitors, you say?" My young heart gave a sudden, almost painful, stir at these words.

  Within the fragmented, incomplete tapestry of my own inherited memories, I possessed vague, yet powerful, images of my parents being True Dragons hailing from the impossibly vast, star-dusted expanse of the cosmos itself; but, according to Winters' earlier, cautionary words, all bloodline inheritance is, in essence, meticulously and subjectively inscribed, recorded for the unhatched young dragon by the preceding, parental generation of True Dragons.

  Although those fleeting, yet awe-inspiring, mental images of massive, star-sized draconic bodies wheeling majestically through the interstelr void do not, in any way, seem fabricated or false to my inner senses, I currently possess absolutely no concrete, verifiable way to definitively prove their ultimate veracity.

  If I truly wish to uncover and confirm the truth of my origins, I can only, it seems, dedicate myself to becoming stronger, immeasurably stronger, and then, one day, personally undertake the perilous, daunting journey to the distant, beckoning Starry Expanse to seek out the unvarnished truth for myself.

  But right now, in my current, diminutive state... that path seemed impossibly long.

  "Winters," I asked, my voice barely a whisper, "which of these many theories do you, personally, believe to be the true one?"

  Hearing my earnest, almost desperate query, Winters smiled, a sad, knowing quality to it.

  "Vet, my little one, understand this: time is, without a doubt, the most ruthless, the most unforgiving, entity in this entire vast world, perhaps in all of existence.

  The unadulterated truth, so often concealed, buried deep beneath the shifting, accumuting yers of bygone time, is an exceedingly difficult, almost impossible, treasure to unearth.

  No single Dragon, not even the most ancient or wise among us, can definitively, unequivocally state what the true, ultimate origin of the Dragon Cn truly is.

  Unless, of course," she added, a specutive gleam in her eye, "you could somehow manage to leap entirely out of the relentless, unidirectional river of time itself and physically return to those primordial, long-vanished epochs of the past, to witness the actual events with your own unclouded eyes."

  I looked at Winters, my expression one of somewhat bnk, uncomprehending astonishment.

  "Can time itself, the very fabric of a Lived Moment, truly be transcended, be traversed in such a manner?"

  Winters rolled her great, golden eyes in a gesture of weary amusement.

  "Who, in all honesty, can definitively say?

  It is recorded in the annals of our long and storied history that, once, long ago, a Temporal True Dragon, a being of unimaginable power over the currents of time, did indeed appear amongst our kind..." Her voice trailed off, leaving the unspoken continuation hanging tantalizingly in the air.

  Unable to bear the suspense, I could not help but ask, my voice filled with anxious anticipation: "And then, Winters? What happened then?"

  "And then?" Winters echoed, a wry note in her voice.

  "And then, this overly ambitious Temporal True Dragon came to believe, in his hubris, that he could casually, almost pyfully, trifle with the fundamental nature of time itself, bending it to his will.

  But the ultimate, and perhaps inevitable, outcome was that he himself was, in turn, mercilessly trifled with, thoroughly battered and bruised, by the very temporal forces he sought to command.

  In the end, he vanished utterly, without a trace, and to this very day, no Dragon truly knows whither he ultimately went: was it to some forgotten aeon of the distant past?

  Was it to some unimaginable, yet-to-be-formed epoch of the far future?

  Or did he, perhaps most tragically, simply perish, alone and unmourned, in some obscure, unknown corner of the vast, uncaring cosmos!

  So, little Vet," she concluded, her gaze softening as it rested upon me, "do not allow yourself to rush headlong into things.

  You possess, as I have said, a great, almost incomprehensible, deal of time at your disposal; endeavor always to do the right, appropriate thing at the right, opportune time, and you will invariably find that your troubles, your anxieties, will be considerably, and most welcomely, fewer in number."

  I was momentarily stunned into silence by her profound, yet simply stated, wisdom, then a small, self-deprecating chuckle escaped my lips.

  "Thank you, esteemed Winters; perhaps I truly, genuinely should not allow myself to be so persistently, so needlessly anxious about the future."

  Winters ughed, a warm, rumbling sound that seemed to fill the vast library chamber.

  "There is, indeed, no pressing need for you to rush pell-mell towards becoming stronger than you are, but there *is*, however, a most definite and immediate need for you to rush, with all due diligence, to commit this wealth of accumuted knowledge firmly to your young mind, little Vet; for knowledge, in its truest sense, *is* power, a power more enduring than mere physical might."

  Hearing this, my face, which had brightened considerably, suddenly turned rather bitter, my earlier enthusiasm defting somewhat.

  The fascinating, yet complex, account of the origin of the Dragon Cn was, I now realized with a sinking feeling, merely the introductory section, the very beginning, of the truly massive tome entitled "The Origin and Evolution of Magic."

  Of course, as Winters herself had previously, and quite clearly, stated, this particur book only discussed, in broad strokes, some of the fundamental rudiments, the basic principles, of magic, and did not, regrettably, include any practical instruction on the actual learning, training, or application of specific magical spells.

  Soon, however, despite the daunting volume of text, I had managed to acquire a general, if somewhat superficial, understanding of the foundational concepts of magic.

  For example, I learned that when attempting to cast any form of magic, one cannot, it transpires, successfully achieve the desired effect merely by possessing the correct incantations, a focused Inner Will, and the requisite elemental affinity.

  The process, I discovered, requires a far greater degree of meticulous attention, of precise control, than I had initially, and rather naively, imagined.

  The most crucial, the absolutely indispensable, element in this intricate process is something termed, quite simply, a magic node, and this enigmatic entity, this focal point of power, is intrinsically, inextricably linked to the harmonious flow and concentration of the magic elements stored within one's own personal Dragon Crystal.

  Without the prior, successful construction of a stable and correctly aligned magic node, even if the ambient elemental energies do indeed gather under the compelling influence of the spoken spell, they will, inevitably and swiftly, dissipate, becoming utterly useless before they can be shaped into a coherent magical effect.

  In addition to these fundamental principles, I also learned, with considerable interest, about the established, hierarchical division of strength realms within our world.

  Iron, Bronze, Silver, Gold, Ptinum, Amethyst, the legendary Legendary, the almost mythical Myth, and the truly godlike Mythical—these, I understood, represented the nine distinct, ascending realms of power.

  Each of these major realms, furthermore, was itself further subdivided into three distinct minor realms: the lower, the middle, and the upper echelons of proficiency within that specific tier.

  Under entirely normal, unremarkable circumstances, a newly born, inexperienced young dragon typically finds itself situated within the middle echelons of the Iron rank of power.

  After consuming the remnants of its own eggshell, a vital source of initial nourishment and strength, the young dragon will then quickly, almost automatically, grow and advance to the upper echelons of the Iron rank.

  Then, after the passage of approximately two full sor years, a period of crucial early development, the young dragon will, once again quite naturally, automatically advance to the lower echelons of the Bronze rank.

  Any subsequent, further increases in strength and power beyond this point depend almost entirely upon the young dragon's own innate, inherent talent, its dedication to training, and perhaps, a measure of good fortune.

  However, just as the various creation theories that Winters had so patiently mentioned previously seemed to suggest, the members of the Dragon Cn are, by their very nature, almost perfectly, ideally formed beings.

  Taking the esteemed True Dragon Species as a prime example, even a True Dragon possessing the poorest, most unremarkable innate talent, and exhibiting the least possible personal effort in its own development, after successfully passing through the vulnerable Young Dragon stage and entering into the more robust juvenile stage of its life, will find that its intrinsic strength automatically, and without specific exertion, breaks through to the Silver rank of power.

  The subsequent youth stage of development will see them naturally attain the Ptinum rank, and upon reaching full, undisputed adulthood, they will inevitably ascend to the formidable Amethyst rank.

  And then, once they eventually, after many long centuries, enter into the venerable stage of old age, they will, with an almost predetermined certainty, inevitably step into the awe-inspiring, almost legendary, Legendary rank of power.

  Furthermore, and this was a point of considerable interest, the onset of old age for the True Dragon Species does not, as it does for many lesser beings, signify a concurrent decline in physical strength, nor a regrettable degradation of their inherent magical power.

  On the very contrary, the period of old age is, in fact, typically the most powerful, the most potent, period in the entire, long life of a True Dragon Species.

  The accumuted strength and wisdom of a True Dragon Species will only begin to decline, and then quite rapidly, in the final, fleeting few years of its exceptionally long existence.

  And this remarkable duration of peak vitality, this extended prime, typically sts for more than twenty-four thousand sor years.

  In other words, even if a True Dragon were to do absolutely nothing, to merely idle away its existence and passively await the inevitable embrace of death, it could still, with ease, live for more than twenty-four thousand incredibly long years.

  If, during this vast expanse of time, they happen to possess superior, exceptional innate talent, and can, through diligence or fortune, break through to the rarefied heights of the Legendary, or even the truly Mythic rank of power, they can, as a consequence, live for even longer, almost indefinite, periods of time.

  True Dragons that manage to live for well more than twenty-four thousand years, accumuting wisdom and power beyond measure, are thereafter termed, with utmost respect, the Ancients of our kind.

  Of course, the knowledge I managed to absorb during that initial study session was not solely limited to these fascinating, yet somewhat abstract, concepts of power and longevity.

  Time, as it always does, passed by, measured in the slow turning of colossal pages, bit by bit, and I found myself becoming increasingly, almost completely, immersed in the captivating, multifaceted world revealed within the ancient pages of the book entitled "The Origin and Evolution of Magic," greedily, almost desperately, absorbing the wealth of profound knowledge contained therein.

  During this extended period of intense study, Winters, despite her best intentions, did, on one occasion, accidentally succumb to the very somnolence she had earlier decried, and I, with considerable, though gentle, effort, had to undertake the task of rousing her from her impromptu nap.

  I cannot, as yet, you see, perform the rather considerable physical bor of turning these massive, metal-bound pages entirely by myself.

  As for Celine and the other three young dragons, after the initial, exhirating novelty of exploring a new, forbidden section of the Library had gradually worn off, they eventually, one by one, ran back to our secluded corner to observe, with varying degrees of interest, my ongoing schorly endeavors.

  Of course, they also, in their own ways, attempted to take a few cursory, inquisitive gnces at the glowing text upon the open page.

  But, with the notable exception of Celine, who, to her credit, persevered with her attempts for a little longer than the others, Billy, Ao, and Dinnett each took but one brief, perhaps bewildered, look at the complex symbols and then, with a collective sigh of apparent boredom, promptly y down beside the slumbering form of Winters and, in short order, fell soundly asleep themselves.

  It was not until the ambient light filtering into the cavernous Library had begun to noticeably dim, signaling that it was almost dark outside, that Celine, Billy, Ao, Dinnett, and I finally, and with some reluctance on my part to leave my studies, returned to the familiar comfort of the Dragon's Den, all under the watchful, benevolent guidance of the now fully awake Winters.

  Also, it was made abundantly clear to me that books from the hallowed Library are, under no circumstances, permitted to be taken out from its sacred confines; so, if I genuinely wished to continue my reading and expand my knowledge, Winters, it seemed, would have to personally accompany me there each and every designated study day.

  "Oh, that is quite right, Vet," Winters suddenly excimed, as if remembering something of importance just as we were settling back into our den. "Boco, it seems, greatly feared that he would inadvertently forget this small matter, so he simply, and rather thoughtfully, asked me to bring this particur item directly to you."

  As she spoke these words, Winters retrieved a moderately sized, sealed can containing a familiar milky white liquid and carefully pced it in the approximate center of the Dragon's Den.

  It was, I recognized immediately, another supply of the potent, sleep-inducing juice of the Domia Flower.

  "Boco, with his customary ingenuity, has apparently added a small, cleverly designed Teleportation Circle to the very lid of this can," Winters expined, pointing to the intricate markings.

  "As long as you simply stand upon the designated area of the can's lid, the embedded Magic Array will automatically activate itself and, with a subtle shimmer, teleport a precise measure of the Domia Flower juice from within the can directly into the small, recessed groove located on the lid's surface.

  I sincerely believe," she added, a warm smile gracing her features, "that you should make a point of expressing your heartfelt gratitude to him for this thoughtful convenience the very next time you have occasion to see him.

  Also," she continued, her tone shifting slightly, "this is your allotted dinner for this evening."

  As she spoke, Winters produced, with another seemingly effortless gesture, another substantial piece of perfectly cooked Dragon Beast meat, one that was approximately the same considerable size as the juvenile Bus Dragon Beast we had all collectively, and with great relish, consumed during the previous morning's meal.

  "We cannot, I am afraid, continue to indiscriminately prey upon the juvenile Bus Dragon Beasts in this region," Winters stated, a note of responsible concern in her voice. "To do so would, undoubtedly, adversely and unsustainably affect the delicate bance of the local Bus Dragon Beast popution.

  They are, after all, one of the very few Dragon Beast species readily avaible in our immediate surroundings that are truly suitable, both in size and nutritional value, for young, developing dragons such as yourselves to consume.

  Well then," she concluded, her gaze sweeping over us five, "until the morrow, may your slumbers be deep and restorative."