The werewolves that were almost her height, looked at her with extreme aggression as if they would tear her in pieces right at that moment. Not knowing what happened to them because all they saw was a beam of blue light striking their foreheads. They took a few more steps towards her and then suddenly they stopped and… howled. They looked up at the grey sky and howled. Howled loudly, horribly, and miserably as if in a lot of pain.

One of them simply turned away and loped in the opposite direction, whimpering and limping on its front paws. Three werewolves sat right over there on their haunches as their howls turned into purrs. One of them started clawing his heart. The last one stared at Dawn and tried his best to shape shift but he couldn't. Eventually he laid on the wet ground and rolled in the mud, covering his furs with it as if alleviating a burning sensation.

They were hit by their worst nightmares, which had come alive.

Dawn stared at them as her breath became ragged. She covered her mouth with her hands. She was able to create illusions for all of them. She didn't know how, but the sheer power of her magic excited her, thrilled her.

She pulled herself up and watched them for a few seconds in order to really ascertain the fact that she could create illusions for all of them. The problem was that she couldn't pull back her magic. For the past two days she had been struggling to pull back the nightmares but was unsuccessful. And if she couldn't pull off the nightmares, chances were that the werewolves who attacked her would continue to remain in that state even if they managed to shape shift. She put a fist in her mouth and bit it. Her magic had put these werewolves in permanent gloom. She stepped back, terrified at realization.

'Dawn!' Quetz called her. 'Come here now!'

Not able to bear the grief, the mess, and the blood she was seeing in front of her, Dawn ran away from there. 'I am coming,' she said and ran to Quetz as fast as her feet could take.

Quetz was waiting for her just on the edge of the fog. Dawn ran to him, climbed on his foot and closed her arms around his neck. 'What have I done Quetz? What have I done?' Her lips were trembling against his skin and her skin was cold.

Immediately Quetz brought his wings forward and covered his rider. He walked with her to the nearest Eoben, which extended its branches to cover them.

'You did right, Dawn. Don't regret your decision. The Lore is one of the worst places to live. Survival of the fittest is a must here. You did what you had to survive,' he made her understand. He stroked her back with his wings to calm her. 'You must forget about them. And when you come to know who they are, tell me.' His mind was filled with fury. All he wanted was to burn those murders.

It took some time for Dawn to settle down and when she did, she said, 'Quetz, I am feeling scared for Daryn.'

'Why?'

'He has gone to Arc of Orinico…'

Quetz stilled.

'Near Amazon jungles… There was a blast in one of our gold mines…'

Quetz didn't say anything for a long time. He continued to stroke her back. 'Shall we start with your training?' he asked. Somehow he had grown pretty mature over the last month. His sole focus was her training.

'Okay,' said Dawn as she pulled herself out of his wings. She had to divert her attention.

As soon as she mounted him, he took to the grey skies in search of perfect bolts. The bolts that she managed to catch were mostly in the shape of forks. She used them for training. Quetz took her to the ground and asked her to slash the trees at her will but the shape of the bolts hardly allowed her to slice them neatly. Instead she ended up gouging the trunks, rather leaving burn marks in the form of deep slashes. Every time she used the weapon, she wondered why it was so important for Quetz that she found a perfect bolt. Because the outcome of using the bolt was the same—things would burn or die. And it wasn't that she was able to take the entire piece of the lightning. She had to use only a small piece of that.

It was towards the evening and after searching for nearly five hours, that Quetz noticed thick clouds on the south. He shouted, 'Dawn! Now!'

As if understanding what he meant, Dawn jumped and sat on him. He flapped his wings against the heavy lash of rain and within a few seconds reached to the spot he had viewed moments back. Dawn's eyes were focused to a spot that was flickering within those dense, black skies.

With a loud boom, the clouds cracked and a lightning bolt emerged—a perfect lightning bolt through a blinding flash—a combination of three zigzag triangles that complemented each other. Quetz lunged at it with all his power and before the lightning disappeared, Dawn caught it.

'We got it!' he said and dived back down.

Dawn stared at the piece of bolt in her hand. It was beautiful, it belonged to her, it was for her—heaven's gift to the dragon rider.

Her skin prickled with goose bumps.

When Quetz landed on his feet, he half closed his wings. 'Go on,' he said.

Dawn hopped down, staring at her bolt and walked to the nearest tree. She used her bolt to slice its leaves and branches. It was like a knife cutting through warm butter. They fell in her way like lost soldiers. Finally when she reached the trunk, she held the bolt in both the hands, and swung it across the trunk of the Eoben. The thick trunk was cut into two without efforts.

The Eoben fell away from Dawn to protect her. It protected its master's rider even when it died.

Dawn turned to look at Quetz, her eyes a shining green and silver. 'This bolt belongs to me,' she said with greed.

'Yes, it is yours,' he replied.

Dawn stared at the weapon in her hand. So that was why Quetz was in the quest for finding a perfect bolt. She felt so powerful with it that she felt could take over the world with it. With both her hands, she held it and extended it towards the skies as if thanking them for the gift. Then she brought the bolt on the back as if trying to put her sword in its sheath. The sword hung there across her back, across its owner, across the dragon rider. Dawn closed her eyes, feeling satisfied.

Rains started to recede and the bolt faded. It was dusk already and night was about to fall.

'It will only appear in rains,' said Quetz. 'You can use it in these conditions only.' That was the only restraint of her weapon.

When Dawn reached home, on the way she found that none of the werewolves who had attacked her were there. She smiled and carried on walking back to the Silver Mansion. However, as she entered the main hall, she saw Gayle sitting with Neal and a few other pack members. He saw her and she could make out his tension.

"Where's Daryn?

" she asked in a mere whisper.

"Dawn, listen to me carefully.

"