Altan knew he wouldn't get every ounce of truth from Griffin. At least, not right away. He was bound to become even more reserved about his identity than he already was. But, at least it seemed that... whatever that was forced Griffin to cave, and needless to say Altan was starving for even a morsel of an answer to this bizarre situation. Picking up a small gnarled twig, Griffin began to dig shapes into the sand.
"If you were paying attention before," he said pointedly, "you should recall you are currently in a realm called Arcrose. In case it wasn't clear, yes, creatures such as faeries and other magical beings reside here. Once upon a time, humans and Arcranians mingled freely, but since then our realms have been separated and passed away into legend. Portals remain, called fairy circles; the areas in which faeries can freely teleport between realms, and people- given fairy wings and the correct knowledge and power to do so. Your term 'fairytales' derived from these gateways, from the stories of your ancestors who had been to this place and passed on stories of the creatures that live here. Just how you consider our animals to be mythical creatures-fairytales if you will-so do we regard yours.
      "As you have e seen, magic also exists here. In fact, it comes from here. Your word 'arcane' comes from Arcrose. However, like all things, spells have their limits. I will spare you the details, but you may compare it to lifting sacks of sand. Everyone has their own capacity, but the more sacks of sand you lift, and the longer you hold them, the more energy you use until your muscles fail from exhaustion. No matter who you are, how strong you are, there will always exist a limit."
       "So, wait," Altan interrupted, internally hating himself for even entertaining the thought of something so nerdy, "Does that mean I could do it too...? Like, magic?"
       Griffin laughed, which offended Altan slightly. "No. You see, that is the difference between you and I. Humans and Arcranians. We are alike in every aspect except we can cast magic, and you cannot. But that is precisely why this is the most dangerous place you could have possibly ended up, and why humans and Arcranians no longer interact." He said, eyeing Altan down.
       "What's that supposed to mean?"
        "Because of your inability to use magic, the untapped power and energy stored in your essence, the very culmination of your being, paints a target on your back. There are some who would do just about anything to get their hands on a human, and through the use of dark magic, absorb your 'soul' for lack of a better term and thus become the most powerful entity to exist. The magic wielding capabilities of an Arcranian with the energy of a human, artificially sutured together. Picture it: nearly limitless energy and magical abilities that could surmount those of the most ancient of dragons."
Altan narrowed his eyes, attempting to digest all the information that had just been shoved down his throat. It seemed unreal. Then again, 'unreal' was becoming an hourly occurrence. But he was less concerned about the history of 'Arcrose' and more so why he'd almost been killed by assassins less than 24 hours ago. Which he voiced.
"Okay, that's really cool and all, but I don't really care. I just want to know why I almost died last night, and more importantly, when I can go home."
Griffin clenched his jaw, a spark of annoyance glinting in his eyes, "Oh! My apologies. Am I boring you, your highness?"
"Just hurry up."
Griffin looked like he wanted to throw Altan back in the river and let him drown, but he continued anyway. "Essentially, you have walked into the middle of what I can only describe as a revolution. And not the pleasant kind. An evil man named Centurion has rallied an army, seized the castle, and is currently overthrowing the kingdom. He, along with his blasted sorceress Queen, are sweeping through Arcrose, slaughtering and conquering in the name of Xorvad, the Dark One."
"Xorvad?"
Griffin leaned forward on his elbows, "An extremely dangerous, extremely malicious power hungry black dragon, banished to the Whisperglade- the realm between death and life. Corrupted by dark magic, manipulative and cunning, years ago he rallied an army of unnatural evil creatures, creatures that should not exist in this realm. He hunted down and murdered everyone who dared oppose him with his abominations, including other dragons. Among these was the Dragon King, Nydred, Lord of the Skies." His eyes grew cold and vengeful, "In the end, he crushed the Dragon Queen's-Ozir, the Eternal-only clutch of eggs, before she banished him to the Whisperglade, along with his army of corrupted creatures. After that, she too vanished. There he remains, however at night he has found a way to send all but the most deadly and powerful of his minions through to Arcrose. Now, nearly all the dragons are dead or in hiding as the monsters continue to roam, searching for Ozir. Centurion seeks to free him from his confinement."
          "That's great and all," Altan mused, "but what does any of this have to do with you?"
         "Well. I may have caused a bit of, how do you say... trouble for him in the past. Centurion is unforgiving. This is not the first time he has sent assassins after me, and it is unlikely to be the last."
          Altan blinked in surprise, head jerking back in confusion. "Are you stupid? Why would you do that?"
         Griffin turned and looked him dead in the eye, pain and rage causing his golden eyes to glow even brighter than before. "He killed my parents."
"Oh."
A beat of awkward silence passed between them before Griffin sighed, "So this is my proposition." He crossed his arms tightly. "I cannot say I particularly like you. That said, I could use some assistance. So, you help me go kill Centurion, and I promise to help you return home".
         Altan huffed in disbelief. "Right, yea, easy peasy. Let's just go off and kill him, no problem. It's not like he has, uh, an army or anything! Ever heard of the saying 'easier said than done', idiot?"
        "I never claimed it would be easy," Griffin maintained, "However, to be quite honest with you, I believe my situation takes precedence. If you wish for my aid, I require you to help me first. And trust me, you will not last a day out here on your own. Especially once night falls. Are you perhaps familiar with the saying 'eye for an eye'?"
        "More like heart for an eye!" Altan protested, throwing his arms wide. "You can't seriously expect me to just... agree to join you on some impossible suicide mission! And didn't you say never to trust anyone, like, a few hours ago? How do you know I won't betray you? Sell you out?"
          Griffin shrugged. "Your ignorance to just about everything here makes you too clueless to be dangerous."
         Altan took a threatening step towards him. "You little-"
         "Do NOT touch me!" He hissed, recoiling suddenly.
          Altan paused as Griffin shuffled away, staring at him uncertainly as he edged around the fire. Right. In light of that information overload, he'd totally forgot about the whole melding memories thing. Neither of them had commented on it. The risk of it happening again deterred Altan from getting into yet another fight with him. But he'd had physical contact with him before, so why didn't it happen then? Altan could only attribute it to his unsettling dream. Was it even a dream? He chided himself for thinking maybe it had been the dragon's doing, but really, there was no better explanation. At least, he convinced himself that was the case because damnit something had to make even a sliver of sense here. With great effort he ignored the canyons of missing information in his hypothesis and concluded that he, Altan Storm, was correct.
        Griffin sniffed, stooping down to pick up his belongings and retrieve his cloak that he'd set out to dry on a rock. "Look, will you accompany me, or not? Neither option is easy, but you can either join me or test your luck out here on your own." He extended the wet clothes Altan had tossed to the ground earlier out towards him.
   Altan stared at them, mulling over his two options. Going with Griffin meant essentially going against an entire army, on an impossible suicide mission to kill an evil man who worshipped and even more evil dragon. He grimaced. This entire situation still feels like a bad trip. However, it afforded him at least some semblance of protection, and a-hopefully-guarantee of going home. Griffin wasn't letting on to who he really was-he knew too much and seemed to be too powerful to just be someone who'd "caused a little trouble". And why had he been travelling to Earth, anyway? Altan decided he didn't really care if it meant getting home faster and preferably in one piece. On the other hand, he could go off on his own. With no idea where he was, no idea where he could find someone with the ability to send him home, no idea how to get a hold of fairy wings, in a weird and apparently dangerous world filled with hostile creatures and even more hostile people who could use magic and hunted humans.
      "..."
He grabbed the clothes.