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How can I help anyone? I
am broken: look at me. Do I look like I can train anyone in
anything but misery?” Bo clutched at his heart with his furred
hand, his eyes pleading for release.
    “ Do not pity yourself. You
had a family; that is more than some can say. Do you
understand?”
    Bo lowered his gaze to his lap. The dragon
was right, as much as he was loathe to admit it.
    “ You knew joy, and you know
control. Others need that. And would your family want you to join
them so soon?” Bo thought back to the conversation that seemed
lifetimes past already. I would wait. I am
patient. And I could watch over you.
    Olea would not want to watch Bo kill
himself.
    Finally, Bo shook his head. “No.”
    “ I expected
not.”
    Curiosity began to prick at Bo as he returned
his knife to his boot, glancing up to the dragon. “Who needs
me?”
    “ One who is not yet born.
You will meet him if you look for him, but you will have to live
until then. Do you understand?” Bo nodded. “Good. This boy will be
important. He will be a new breed; an alteration to the
rule.”
    “ Rule? What
rule?”
    “ The rule of mixed blood.”
The dragon seemed to gather its thoughts for a moment, closing its
eyes. “The rule that says that a half-breed will show both sides.
The rule that says that if demon blood fights for its place, it
will always win. This rule—the one your
body so obligingly accepts.” Bo removed his left arm from his lap
as the dragon opened its eyes again and turned them to
it.
    “ So, he is… not yet
born?”
    “ No. And he will remain as
such for a long, long time. You will need patience.” The dragon’s
eye seemed to search Bo for something—seemed to expect something.
    “ I will wait.” The dragon
lifted its head and nodded, content to simply lie beside Bo and
look at the sky. Bo finally heard the birds in the
trees.
    “ Good. Now, what is your
name?” The dragon glanced at Bo and swiftly turned away, avoiding
eye contact.
    Bo gave him a skeptical look, but was mildly
amused, despite the new emptiness that still throbbed within him.
“You know so much about me and my future, but you do not know my
name?”
    “ I am prophetic, but this
does not mean I am omnipotent.”
    “ Then, I am
Boelik.”
    “ Boelik? You seem as though
the name is estranged.”
    “ I have been
called…something else by my wife these last five years.”
    “ I see. So you are
returning to who you were before, are you?” The dragon stared him
down now, anticipating his answer.
    “ For now. But I will
remember what she taught me.”
    The dragon nodded. “Remembering is good.
Never forget, even the things that hurt. In fact, those are the
most important to remember.”
    “ I know,” Boelik sighed. He
then turned his gaze up to scrutinize the beast before him. “And
who are you? And, after that, what are you? You seem like a
dragon…almost.”
    The beast snorted. “My name is Dayo. I am a
unicorn-dragon.”
    “ A unicorn-dragon?” The
very thought of such a creature made Boelik snort in
amusement.
    “ Laugh if you please. But
my mother was a dragon and my father a unicorn.” Dayo shifted in
place, and seemed to set his jaw. It was difficult to tell under
the fur.
    “ I’m sorry,” Boelik
apologized, though now he was more amused—if only by the dragon’s
pouting. He saw Dayo relax some. The two sat and watched as the sun
burned through the dreary clouds, bits and pieces of its rays
reaching the ground near them. Eventually they both fell
asleep.
    Boelik woke underneath of a heavy layer of
feathers. He shimmied his way out and saw the dragon sleeping.
“Dayo?” he asked softly. It was getting to be evening. “Dayo?” The
dragon’s eyes flew open and darted to Boelik, their gaze
immediately softening.
    “ Boelik. What is
it?”
    “ I need to bury my wife.
And I need to know—should I stay here? Is there any reason?” Dayo
raised his head and swung it over to Boelik.
    “ Unless you want to stay
near your wife’s