Around the corner was what used to be a large central square. In it were long, rough hewn wooden tables and benches, with over 100 people bustling about, carrying a hodge-podge of rescued dishes and utensils. An open fire was burning at one end of the square with skewers of meat roasting over it, and next to it was a make-shift iron oven glowing and emitting the smell of some sort of tuber baking.

Sarah had settled herself just outside the cluster of structures, with her neck extending down one of the side streets so that she could just see into the square. The bottomless black of her slitted pupils followed Tara's movements.

As Tara moved through the crowd, people moved out of her way and turned to watch her go past, with stony expressions. At last, she reached the head of the table closest to what must have been a church. A group of older Villagers sat there, with food already in front of them.

"Council." Tara said.

They all turned to look at her. "Tara." said one man, bearded like the rest. "Speak."

"Sarah the Dragon speaks to me. There is a task she must accomplish - she must find her birthright, and I must help her to do so. We will depart tomorrow morning."

There was silence among the Council while Tara stood proud and silent. Finally, the man who had addressed Tara before said "How long has she spoken to you?"

"Today was the first time."

"What is her birthright?" asked a woman.

"That I do not know," Tara answered.

"When will you return?"

"When the task is complete."

"But . . you will return?"

"Yes - when Sarah's task is complete, we will return and assist the Village in any way necessary."

The Council exchanged glances, and then the first man spoke again. "Eat then, young Tara, and take such supplies as are necessary, and return to us swiftly."

Tara turned away and went to look for some sort of bag to carry with her on the journey before returning to eat. Sarah, satisfied, promptly closed her eyes.