Dragonfire and Duty

SPOILER WARNING – The Tales from Divinia are companion stories best enjoyed after reading the main novel. Dragonfire and Duty takes place during chapter five of The Trials of Divinia and therefore contains spoilers.

Blurb:

As the Celestial Trials draw near, Kaida walks the quiet streets of Concordia, carrying the weight of expectation, memory and unfinished lessons. Through conversations and hard-earned recollections, she reflects on her upbringing in Drake’s Hollow, the injustices of the Dragon Championships, and the choices that shaped her as a trainer and leader. Dragonfire and Duty is a story of respect earned and denied, of care over cruelty, and of what it truly means to lead – not drakes, but people – when the whole of Divinia is watching.

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She walked aimlessly, not caring particularly where her feet took her, but grateful for the quiet.

It still felt eerie, Concordia, the land of the gods. She was so accustomed to the constant noise of nesting drakes, as well as trainers and other villagers going about their business, that the city’s silent streets still took her by surprise – even after several weeks.

This quiet wouldn’t last forever, however. In just two days’ time she would be joining Talon and the other members of their team in the Arena of Trials for the Celestial Trials’ opening ceremony. By the following day, she could be taking part in her first trial.

She hoped that she had been able to prepare them for the physical demands which lay ahead of them. Or, at least, the ones they expected lay ahead of them. Hopefully, they would soon learn more about what was in store, and she would know to what extent the training she had been running each day had been time well spent.

Kaida had suspected after meeting her teammates that much of their preparation would fall to her, and so it had proved. It was a task she had welcomed – just as she had done at home in Drake’s Hollow – as it gave her purpose, something to focus on. But this odd assortment of people, all from different parts of Ferroxia, had proved a different type of challenge.

They weren’t like drakes, nor even the riders she supported in the Dragon Championships, where confidence was often high. Instead, this team needed a careful combination of coaching, motivation and reassurance.

She considered each of them in turn.

There were the two youngest team members – Bren and Lyra. Bren was strong and capable, but lacking severely in belief and confidence. He was often critical of himself and deflected advice with jokes or gallows humour. Lyra was the complete opposite – bold, fearless, and with skills beyond her age – it was her overconfidence which sometimes made her sloppy.

Then there was Cairn. He was physically strong and mentally sharp – he knew his strengths and his limitations and stuck to what he was good at. On a personal level, she thought they had got on well over the past few weeks, bonding over their shared love of drakes and other creatures. However, she couldn’t shake the feeling that he was too accustomed to working alone, and that his communication with the others during exercises sometimes let him down.

Garrick was an interesting one. He was clearly extremely knowledgeable, with vast experience of combat and action akin to that which they were likely to be facing during the trials. And yet, she could sense his reluctance to involve himself, instead preferring to observe and offer pointers rather than actively participate. She knew she had felt irritated by him at times, particularly when he had countered her advice to Talon, Bren, or Lyra with something conflicting, rather than support her. She would keep trying to let it go.

Selene, too, was unique. She had rarely come across those who were magically gifted before, and Selene’s abilities had definitely unsettled her at first. Nonetheless, the fire priest had quietly applied herself during training, and was surprisingly fit and nimble for someone who held a position which, to the best of her knowledge, rarely demanded physically exerting activities.

And finally there was Talon. She felt a pang of fondness for him – he was the little brother she had never had. So much was being demanded from him. He had been thrust into this world of gods, trials, and champions mere weeks ago and was having to learn, fast. Like Bren, he lacked confidence in himself, but rather than express it outwardly he tended to bottle it up. Whilst she hadn’t known him long, she had become familiar with the pensive, worried expression which so often sat across his face.

But she could see their progress. Not just individually, but in how they blended and worked together as a unit. She hoped that the others felt the same way about her. After all, her reasons for being here weren’t entirely honourable. The Celestial Trials were the ultimate grounds to prove oneself, and after all that she had endured she knew that, selfish though it might be, she needed to show that she could help lead this team to a respectable placement.

“Kaida?”

The voice came through the fading light of the evening sky, uncertain but gentle. She turned to face the speaker, smiling as she did so despite her weariness.

“Hello, Talon,” she said. “I was just thinking about you.”

“Nothing too bad, I hope,” said the young boy with a small smile.

“Not at all,” she said with a laugh. “Just about how much you’ve improved over these past few weeks. How all of you have improved. I only hope we’re ready.”

They were a similar height, despite him being five years younger than her, but he was still gangly in a youthful kind of way. His tousled brown hair stuck out at an array of angles around his bronze skin, which had begun to grow paler without the ever-present Ferroxian heat, whilst his hazel eyes reflected much of the tiredness she felt – perhaps even more.

“I think you’re just being kind,” he said. “I’m not sure I’ll ever be ready for the first trial.”

She sighed, then silently chastised herself. She shouldn’t show any weakness. Drake’s Hollow had taught her to always be strong – that was what it meant to be a leader – to always be the one in control.

“I think it’s only normal to feel that way. But we’re all about to step into the unknown – us, the other champions, their teams. Everyone will be feeling the same way now we’re so close.”

He considered this for a moment.

“They all seem confident,” he said quietly. “Especially Cassian.”

“It’s all bravado,” she replied. “An act, designed to intimidate the competition. I’ve seen his sort before – they’re quite happy playing their part in the build-up, but when it comes to the real thing, they’re just like everybody else. They’re just trying to hide their insecurities.”

He looked at her, then smiled again with a half shrug.

“We’re lucky to have you, Kaida,” he said with an earnestness that made her chest hurt.

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” she began.

“We are,” Talon insisted. “You’ve helped us – helped me – since day one. Getting everyone to Concordia in one piece, preparing us for the trials, training me so that I’m ready for anything. I might not be the best champion here, but you’ve given me a chance, and I’m grateful.”

She paused. He had to know – had to know why she had truly come.

“Do you know why I wanted to join your team, Talon?”

His smile faded into a frown.

“Because… you wanted to show the people of Divinia what a Ferroxian team can achieve when they treat their creatures with respect,” he said, repeating her words back to her.

“That’s true…” she said, hesitantly. “But it’s only half the truth.”

She closed her eyes for a couple of heartbeats. When she opened them again, she found Talon watching her, waiting patiently for her to continue.

“I need to do this not just for you, not just for Ferroxia, but for me,” she said.

She saw Talon relax slightly.

“There is no shame in that,” he said. “We all have something to prove. But if you’re willing, I’d be happy to hear more of your story. Sometimes I forget that I haven’t known you – or Cairn, Selene, or Garrick – for as long as I’ve known Lyra and Bren.”

“Walk with me?” she asked, motioning that they should continue down the path they were on.

“Of course,” he replied, without an ounce of hesitation in his voice.

She could do this. She could tell him the full story.

Seven years earlier…

She jumped out of bed. She had barely been able to sleep – she had been so excited about the day ahead.

Today, at last, she would find out whether the last year of hard work had paid off. Today was the day her life would begin to change. Today was Bonding Day.

Bonding Day was an annual tradition unique to the village of Drake’s Hollow. On this day, the village’s dragon rider, who had been selected to participate in the next season’s Dragon Championships, would judge each of the drakes being put forward as a potential partner. They would select their favourite, and then they would begin training with them ahead of the start of the new season.

The Dragon Championships were Ferroxia’s most prestigious dragon-fighting competition – twelve events taking place over nine months, hosted in cities and villages across the region. The best-performing riders qualified for the Grand Conclave, the end-of-season finale in which the overall victor was determined.

Kaida had attended several events during her childhood, the most local of which took place in the nearby village of Cindertrail. Each event consisted of five scored disciplines – a combat trial, a speed race, an agility course, a fire-breathing target challenge and, Kaida’s favourite, the bond trial, where a rider needed to guide their drake from the sidelines rather than being seated upon it. Scores were given between one and twelve points for each discipline, with the rider accumulating the highest score being declared the event winner.

There were two ways to qualify for the Grand Conclave – to win an individual event or to accumulate the most points across a season. The Grand Conclave allowed for a maximum of twelve competitors, and event winners were given priority – if a rider won a second event, that place would instead go to the highest-scoring rider without an event victory, and so on.

Many parts of Ferroxia entered multiple riders in the Championships, but Drake’s Hollow only ever entered one, preferring to concentrate their efforts on a single rider and team – making Bonding Day all the more important, and prestigious, for the trainers involved.

Some of her fellow residents of Drake’s Hollow thought poorly of the Championships, reasoning that forcing drakes into human competition – particularly one which often put their health and safety at risk – was vulgar. However, she believed that if they were ever to improve drake rearing and training standards across Ferroxia, Drake’s Hollow needed to prove that their methods – built around high-quality care and companionship – were more effective than aggression and brute force.

At the age of eleven, as soon as permitted under Ferroxian law, she had left full-time education and begun working part-time with her father’s drakes. After turning fifteen, she had started working there full-time. Ever since, she had been working towards this day with an obsessive focus, determined that she would see one of her drakes participate in the Dragon Championships and, in the process, become one of the youngest trainers in the Championships’ history.

Her belief that this was her destiny – not just to be chosen, but that in doing so she would help change all of Ferroxia – was unshakeable. She talked about little else. Sometimes she thought her father and mother, Harlen and Sera Emberwind, were so sick of her endless cascade of information about drakes, dragon riders and the Championships that the main reason they supported her was because, if she started travelling for the events, they’d finally get some peace and quiet.

Kaida’s prized dragon was a four-year-old ember drake called Ashen. She had been working with him daily for the past six months, and more recently he had become her clear frontrunner for Bonding Day. He was exceptionally responsive, reacting to the lightest cues and often moving before commands were fully given. He was calm under pressure, even in noise, heat and crowded spaces – unusual for his breed. And he had a precise, restrained flame, his fire controlled, deliberate and, crucially, impeccably accurate.

She reached her father’s open-air drake enclosure quickly and smiled as she spotted Ashen on one of the highest perches. He let out an appreciative growl as she approached. There was only one other worker already there – Malek.

Malek was a boy in his early twenties who had been working for her father for around three years. He was broad-shouldered but lean from long days of physical work. He was competent but unremarkable as a trainer, she felt – reliable with routine tasks but lacking her instinctive bond with the drakes.

“Hey,” she greeted him casually as she jumped the fence into the pen. “You’re here early.”

“Big day,” Malek muttered nervously. “How are you feeling?”

“Confident,” she declared without hesitation. “Ashen feels so ready. I can’t believe there is another dragon in Drake’s Hollow more ready to be chosen.”

“I wish I had your belief,” he said with a small, slightly sad smile. “I suppose you think you won’t be here too much longer – you’ll be out on the road, chief dragon trainer of Drake’s Hollow.”

The words sounded bitter, but they weren’t said unkindly, although she could sense a touch of jealousy.

“Maybe,” she replied, trying to tone down her enthusiasm slightly. “But I’ll still be here all the time. I wouldn’t leave Dad without enough help now he’s getting old – and hopefully you still think you need me too!”

Malek chuckled.

“Of course,” he said. “We’d be lost without you, Kaida.”

“I am sorry to interrupt,” came a voice from behind them.

Kaida and Malek spun round, and she felt her mouth drop open at the sight of the man standing in front of her.

It was Sir Aldric Stonevein – Drake’s Hollow’s veteran dragon rider. He was a man in his late forties or early fifties, a similar age to her father, and a legend in their village. He had represented them at the Dragon Championships for more than fifteen years, winning multiple events and qualifying for the Grand Conclave, although he had never placed there.

The rumour was that the upcoming season could be his last.

Sir Aldric smiled at them before continuing.

“Apologies, I know that it is early, but I have many drakes to see today. It would be a huge help if I could see your candidate as soon as possible.”

“Let me just go and get Mr Ember…” Malek began.

“I can arrange that for you, Sir, no problem,” she interrupted excitedly.

Sir Aldric’s smile widened.

“I would be ever so grateful, miss,” he said, inclining his head. “I have maybe thirty enclosures to visit today. Now, tell me, which is the drake you are putting forward?”

“Let me show you,” Kaida said, extending her arm and signalling once without looking back. Several seconds later, a light thud on the ground behind her told her that Ashen had landed.

“This is Ashen,” she said, standing aside so that the man could look more closely.

Sir Aldric nodded before narrowing his eyes, walking around the creature slowly, evaluating it from every angle.

“Do you mind?” he asked after several minutes, motioning towards the sky.

“Not at all,” said Kaida eagerly.

She and Malek watched as Sir Aldric and Ashen flew, coming in and out of view as they sped over the village. At one point, Ashen let out a short, sharp burst of flame as the pair performed a particularly tight turn, then dropped into a dive before pulling up sharply once more.

Around fifteen minutes later, they returned. Sir Aldric was grinning.

“The drake is remarkable,” he said. “One of the best first flights I’ve had in a long time.”

She felt her spirits soar. She had done it. This was it. Just as she had planned.

“I must know,” he said. “Who is the drake’s primary handler?”

“Well,” she began.

“Me, sir,” Malek cut in.

Sir Aldric turned to him, beaming with pleasure.

“You’ve done a sterling job, young man,” he said. “As you know, I have many drakes still to see today, but I will be back – I can promise you that.”

And without waiting for a response, he turned and walked away.

She didn’t react. She didn’t know how to. She simply turned back to her work in silence – ignoring Malek’s pleas to speak with her. Only as she returned home that evening did she allow the tears to escape her, but she wiped them away before stepping through the threshold of her family home, determined not to show her weakness to her parents.

Two weeks later, after Ashen had been chosen and Malek had been invited to accompany Sir Aldric to the Championships, she finally confided in her father. She hadn’t intended to, but an innocuous ‘how are you’ had caused her to burst into fresh floods of tears, and the story of Malek’s betrayal spilled out of her.

Once she had finished speaking, Harlen had considered her for a long time before standing up and moving to a ceiling-high cupboard at the far side of their living room, near the hearth. He returned holding a carved wooden staff with elegant draconic motifs she had never seen before.

“Did you know,” he began, “that Malek comes from one of the poorest families in all of Drake’s Hollow? I remember his family arriving, just before he was born, after being banished from Charhollow. His father was accused of being a thief, stealing materials from another workshop to create his armour, and after a brief investigation he was asked to leave. It was easier for them to make the problem go away than to work out whether the accusation was true.

“They arrived here with nothing. When Malek was five, his father died, and then when he was ten, his mother died too. Once again, he had nothing. He did what he could – finished his education, lived in care, before moving from job to job searching for a role he was suited to – without the support of a family to get him started. A few years ago he came to me. He’s not got your talent with the drakes, but he’s been a hard worker, and he’s never let me down.”

She stared at her father. She had not known any of this – had never asked.

“I know you feel betrayed by what Malek did, but he saw an opportunity – an opportunity for a better life, one different to the life his parents endured. In fact, word has just reached me today – Malek has resigned from his position with me. He has been offered a dragon training scholarship in Drakhar, which he has accepted.”

Her mind whirred with new information and so many unasked questions. Drakhar was Ferroxia’s premier dragon training city and home to the region’s Chief Dragon Trainer, Spinemaster Garrun Blackwing. To be invited to train there was a huge honour.

“It also means,” her father went on, “that he has had to withdraw from Sir Aldric’s team. When he did so, he was asked for his recommendation on who his replacement should be. He nominated you, Kaida.”

She rubbed at her eyes, incredulous, not daring to believe what her father was telling her. Harlen put a comforting arm around her.

“I want you to have this,” he said. “It will serve you well in the Championships. Let it remind you that drakes can be trusted. But people – people have their own stories, and your job isn’t to train them, it’s to find them.”

Present day… 

“So you got to go to the Championships after all?” Talon asked.

“I did,” said Kaida. “A lowly position – I barely got to see Ashen. I was too busy running errands. Sir Aldric never asked me specifics about my role in his training, and so I kept Malek’s secret.”

“And that’s why you wanted to come to the Celestial Trials,” he said slowly. “To earn the respect that was taken away from you. To show what you’re truly capable of.”

“Just wait,” she said. “There’s more.”

One year earlier…

Kaida looked around as she finished unloading their supplies. She had become accustomed to each of the host locations for the Dragon Championships’ events since she had first gone out on the road with Sir Aldric as a young girl. But this one – a barren wasteland on the outskirts of the military city of Molkrath – was undoubtedly her least favourite. It was dark, gloomy, and devoid of joy. Were it not for the bright reds and ambers of the tens of drakes surrounding her, she didn’t think she could stand it.

Over the past six years she had barely missed an event, travelling all over Ferroxia and working under three different dragon riders – Sir Aldric Stonevein, Halvek Cinderstone, and now Branor Emberfall. Sir Aldric had, despite the rumours, ridden for another three seasons – buoyed by his discovery of Ashen – and had achieved his best result: a third-place finish at the Grand Conclave. Halvek had struggled to live up to Sir Aldric’s legacy and had been replaced early into his second season by Branor, who had claimed four event wins over the past two years.

Her role in the team had also grown – from lowly assistant to supervising dragon trainer, to now Branor’s second – meaning she led the entire support team, as well as working with both drake and rider to prepare them ahead of each event. And yet, whilst she was satisfied – even pleased – with her progress, she couldn’t help but regret the one accolade she had missed out on: being the trainer whose drake was chosen on Bonding Day. She now spent so much time away from Drake’s Hollow that it was unlikely she would ever return to claim it.

“Look, boys, it’s the ember-tenders,” came a drawling voice from behind her.

She glanced over her shoulder with a mixture of surprise and annoyance. Ember-tenders was a derogatory term she heard only occasionally – given to those who allowed their drakes to train in a free, low-pressure environment, rather than under the harsh constraints most of Ferroxia favoured. Not many would be so bold as to use it openly within earshot of her.

The speaker was a boy she did not recognise – he wore dark armour coated in intricate flame patterns and a crimson cloak which matched his striking red hair. Several other boys, who walked a stride behind him, chortled as they strode past.

She had hoped that it would be the last time she saw the boy that day.

It was far from it.

An hour later, their preparations complete, one of her team – Edrin Hale, a tall and soft-spoken man with sun-weathered skin and ash-grey hair cut short – handed her a piece of parchment with the pairings for the day’s first discipline: the combat trial. She scanned it hurriedly.

“Zarek Flamestrike,” she read aloud. “From Emberholt.”

“A debutant,” said Edrin, nodding. “Riding a drake trained on Drakeforge Farm – it’s quite famous, and their drakes are typically well regarded.”

Edrin was always a useful source of such knowledge. He was their drake expert – responsible for scouting and analysing the competition.

“Branor’s got this,” said Tessa Flintmere from behind them. Tessa was a stocky young woman dressed in worn leathers patched from years of drake work. She had dark hair and almost darker hands, such were the layers of soot coating them. She managed their supplies – mostly food and medicine for their drake, an ember drake called Caldren.

Caldren was calm, controlled, and quietly powerful – but not quite on the same level as Ashen, at least in Kaida’s opinion. Nonetheless, Branor and Caldren had formed a successful pairing so far that season, and they had no reason to be nervous of such a novice.

“Let’s show him what Drake’s Hollow is made of,” said Branor as he strode up confidently behind them, taking the sword offered by Edrin as he passed and slotting it into the scabbard at his hip. “I’m feeling good today – this will be great preparation for the Grand Conclave.”

Branor, like many of the dragon riders, was broad-shouldered and powerfully built, with a sharp, commanding presence. His dark hair was streaked with copper tones, which stood out brightly in the sun – shining like the bold lines and polished metal of his immaculate armour.

“You know what to do,” said Kaida, nodding at him.

Branor smiled and winked in return before disappearing into the riders’ paddock to find Caldren.

As the fights began, she watched with only half-hearted interest, her mind still on the boy and the name of Branor’s opponent – she wondered if it could be the same person. Whilst she’d rather avoid him – she would like to see him taken down a peg or two.

Only Edrin watched intently, his eyes fixed on the sky as the drakes circled one another and the clang of the riders’ weapons filled the air. There were two ways to win a combat trial: by knockout – dismounting the opposing rider from their drake – or by surrender. Around a dozen fire priests hovered beneath the action, ready with their magic to catch fallen riders.

Eventually, Branor’s name was called, along with that of Zarek Flamestrike.

Her eyes searched the paddock – not for Branor, but for Zarek – and found him just as his flame-red hair disappeared beneath his helmet. It was, indeed, the boy who had insulted her.

“Come on, Branor,” she muttered under her breath. “Knock him off.”

The pair rose from the ground and flew apart, turning to face one another before a horn sounded to signal the start of the action. Zarek, she noticed with disdain, rode a pyre drake of deep crimson. Its scales were coated in scars and its tail hung slightly limp – although it still whipped it around ferociously every time it turned.

“What are they doing to you?” she said quietly, shaking her head in disgust.

“I think we’ve started rather well,” said Tessa, misunderstanding her words, as Branor easily ducked under a wild sword swing from Zarek and struck back with a blow that made the boy wobble unnaturally in his saddle – though he remained seated.

The fight continued for several minutes in a similar vein – Branor dominating, but unable to land the finishing blow. Then, as Zarek’s drake turned, it let out a sudden burst of flame as it flew back towards Branor. Surprised, Branor swerved to avoid the flames, causing a confused Caldren to overcorrect and bank harshly to one side. Zarek took full advantage, swinging not with his sword, but with his free hand as he shoved Branor hard as they passed. Already unbalanced, Branor fell, letting out a shocked cry as he did.

The uproar was immediate – fire-breathing was forbidden in the combat trial for the riders’ safety; it was a challenge designed purely to test close control and fighting skill. Angry shouts came from all sides as onlookers debated what they had just seen. But Kaida could see Zarek’s grin as he removed his helmet on the way back to the ground. That had gone just as he had planned.

“You’re not going to like this,” said Edrin, returning moments later with another piece of parchment clasped in his hand. He passed it to Kaida – it was their scores.

Victor: Zarek Flamestrike, Emberholt – 10 points out of 12.

Defeated: Branor Emberfall, Drake’s Hollow – 2 points out of 12.

“How could they give him ten?” said Kaida indignantly. “He cheated.”

“And us only two,” groaned Tessa, looking at the scores over her shoulder. “We were winning.”

It was one of the worst days she could remember – worse even than the short-lived time she had worked with Halvek.

After the combat trial, they were drawn in the same heat as Zarek for the speed race. Branor had started well, before the tail of Zarek’s pyre drake lashed out as they rounded a corner, striking Caldren and causing him to pull up in pain. By the time Branor had coaxed him into continuing, it was too late.

Next should have been the agility course, but after examining the wound, Tessa warned them that it would be unwise to rush Caldren back into action and that they should instead rest him and allow the medicine time to do its work.

After that came the fire-breathing target challenge. The pyre smashed through the targets with ease, whilst Caldren, still unsettled, was wild and unusually poor with his aim. A furious Branor tossed his helmet aside in anger as he returned to their camp for a break between challenges.

Finally came the bond trial, usually their strongest discipline – but Branor, still angry, cut a distracted figure from his position at the side of the arena, and twice Caldren turned the wrong way when given his instruction. Zarek, catching her watching him, gave her a small, mocking bow as he and the pyre drake finished their challenge with a flawless routine.

“Here’s the final rankings,” said Edrin glumly.

They all clustered around him to look.

“How could they let him win?” asked Tessa. “I don’t know what those judges are watching sometimes.”

Zarek had, indeed, won. He would be at the Grand Conclave at the end of the season. Her eyes moved slowly down the parchment. They had only received seven points. Seven.

“Let’s get going,” she said. “Time for us all to get home.”

Present day… 

“So you see,” Kaida concluded. “Not only am I seeking the respect I feel I am owed, but also the respect I feel my people are owed. Drake’s Hollow has always been looked down upon – and it won’t just be those like Zarek. It will go all the way to the top, to Thoros himself.”

Talon looked at her. Then, to her surprise, he started to laugh softly.

“You should have said you’d met Zarek before,” he said, his expression turning serious again. “Even after he came to see us – on the farm – you didn’t say.”

“I was embarrassed,” she said honestly. “I don’t think he even recognised me. And I thought… how can someone who has driven me to this point – to the point of throwing myself into the hardest, most challenging, most important event in Divinia – not even remember me?”

She clenched her fists by her side and slowed, turning to face Talon, who did the same.

“All this time, I thought I’d learnt the lesson my dad was trying to teach me – thought I’d become a strong leader by understanding people, their fears, their weaknesses, and working around them, trying my best to overcome them. But Zarek made me realise maybe I still don’t have what it takes. Maybe I don’t understand people – only dragons. That’s why I’m here. I must know, must know if I’m good enough.”

Talon reached out and gripped her wrist gently. She looked at him, surprised, but did not pull it away. It was calm – reassuring.

“I already know the answer to that,” he said with a smile. “And I think by the end of these trials, whatever happens, you’ll know the answer too.”

He let go.

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s get back to the others – I know I’ll need my rest before whatever you’ve got planned for our last day of training.”

She smiled, her heart warming. She might have thought she was here for herself. But maybe, just maybe, she was here for the right reasons after all.

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