Chapter 11 - The Armor of Dawn
As the runes flared, a holographic projection of light shimmered above the pedestal, revealing the final memories stored within the ancient stone. Rowan watched in stunned silence as the image of a woman with his hazel eyes and unruly light brown hair appeared, wearing this exact armor while defending a clutch of unhatched eggs against the soldiers of the Sunken Citadel.
""Your mother, Lady Lyra,"" Maren said softly, tears glistening in her blind eyes. ""She was the last of the Dragon-Keepers. When Valerius betrayed the council and attacked the roost seven years ago, she smuggled the last surviving clutch to the outer sea cliffs before she fell. Sylva was the mother of that clutch. Rowan... your mother did not abandon you. She left you with the only protector she trusted in the entire realm.""
Sylva stepped forward into the pool of light. The great mother dragon lowered her snout until it touched the cold armor, then pressed her forehead against Rowan’s chest, tears of liquid silver falling from her golden eyes. She had known who he was from the moment she plucked him from the abandoned basket on the shoreline. Rowan strapped the lightweight dragon-scale armor across his chest and picked up the ceremonial lance of tide-glass resting beside it. He was no longer a frightened orphan boy hiding in the rocks; he was the last keeper of the roost.
