Dustin smiled as his fingers traced the cloud patterns carved into his sword scabbard. He said calmly, "Since you have awakened from your slumber, why are you angry with mortals?"

His gaze swept over the white light surrounding Thymaleon. Those clear eyes seemed to pierce right through him, as if they could read the centuries written in his very bones.

Dustin's sword absorbed the sunlight's warmth, and the turquoise stones along its scabbard seemed to pulse with soft light. A gentle fragrance of herbs and wood drifted from the blade, which was the complete opposite of the harsh, ancient power that surrounded the handsome man.

Thymaleon's surprise deepened. Since being awakened from the slumber, only a few days had passed.

Apart from being disturbed by that earlier sword aura, he'd avoided all contact with mortals. Yet somehow Dustin knew about his long slumber. That level of insight forced Thymaleon to reassess who he was dealing with.

"You know who I am?" he asked curiously.

The