In one of Rivendell's grand yet serene halls, Igris, Gandalf, and Galadriel were left alone. As Igris sat cross-legged on the floor, Galadriel stepped directly behind him and gently rested her hands on his back.
"Now clear your mind and let me enter."
But Igris didn't look particularly pleased with this setup. Grimacing slightly, he objected.
"Do you really have to go into my mind? Can't we use a different method?"
Galadriel let out a soft sigh and shook her head.
"This is the fastest way. Other methods take time, and we don't have that kind of time with you."
Hearing these words, Igris sighed deeply. Then, turning his head slightly to look directly at Galadriel, he spoke.
"Don't go into my memories. And if you do, don't ask any questions or tell anyone else—keep it to yourself."
Understanding the young man's sensitivity, Galadriel nodded.
"I promise."
Igris nodded in acknowledgment and turned back forward. Taking a deep breath, he relaxed his muscles and tried to quiet his mind. Galadriel applied gentle pressure with her hand on his back and closed her eyes. Then, she spoke calmly.
"Do not resist."
Igris waited silently without responding. Using the power of the ring Nenya, Galadriel glided gently into Igris's inner world. Even though Igris felt the soothing comfort of the energy flowing into his mind, the very idea of someone wandering around inside his head deeply unsettled him.
Igris's Inner World...
When Galadriel opened her eyes again, she calmly surveyed her surroundings. She narrowed her eyes slightly as she took in the place, which was pitch-black and shrouded in thick smoke.
'Strange... it is dark, yet not evil... on the contrary, it is more peaceful and at ease than that of most humans...'
After observing the environment for a while longer, she began walking quietly forward. A few seconds later, she paused, her focus sharpening.
'...even if I wanted to, I cannot access his memories... I am encountering such a situation for the very first time...'
Galadriel closed her eyes, focusing on feeling the flow of surrounding energy. After a brief pause of a few seconds, she opened her eyes and turned her head to the right.
'...Chaos energy... but very weak...'
Changing her course, she began walking quietly in the direction where she sensed the energy. Minutes later, as she emerged from the dense layer of smoke, she stood in silent awe at the sight before her. A boundless steppe stretched out as far as the eye could see beneath the night sky. Galadriel raised her head and looked up, met with a breathtaking, crystal-clear view where countless stars glittered.
'...It seems Igris, unlike most people, loves the quiet of the night.'
With that thought, she quickened her pace and continued toward the source of the energy. After a while, upon reaching the top of a high hill, she looked down and narrowed her eyes to take in the scene. Countless dome-shaped tents were scattered across the vast steppe. Large bonfires burned in various parts of the camp, while a few horsemen rode freely around the tents. Many people, both men and women, roamed about the campsite. On one side, men were practicing relentlessly with hard sword swings, while on the other, women trained with equal seriousness, not falling behind in the least. As Galadriel watched this scene, she pondered silently.
'So this is Igris's origin, the root he is bound to, the very essence that makes him who he is... Interesting... I have never seen a tribe like this before...'
Just then, startled by a sensation coming from her left, she turned toward it. Looking closely, she saw a remarkably large, black-furred steppe wolf with a noble stance lying atop a nearby rock formation, quietly watching her. This genuinely surprised Galadriel; reflections within a mind were not supposed to notice her, yet this wolf was staring directly into her eyes.
Furrowing her brows as she focused on the wolf, she realized that the Chaos energy was not emanating from this animal, and she began studying the creature calmly.
'Interesting... This is the tangible manifestation of Igris's personality... or rather, his spirit guide... It is my first time seeing a wolf spirit guide. Normally, wolves symbolize harsh winters and famine, dark omens... Humans do not have spirit guides...'
Without getting up, the wolf quietly turned its head and gestured with its snout toward a distant point. When Galadriel looked in the direction indicated by the wolf, she only then noticed a colossal mountain looming on the horizon. Closing her eyes to focus back on the energy flow, she realized that the Chaos energy she sought was leaking directly from that very mountain. Opening her eyes, she fixed her calm gaze on it.
'It seems that is where I must go.'
When she turned back to the rock to offer her thanks, her eyes narrowed; the wolf had already vanished. Standing there for a moment looking at the bare rock, she then set off toward the mountain. After a few minutes of walking, she reached the foothills and stood before a dark entrance.
'...This entrance is not natural... there is a heavy presence of iron in this mountain, and this tunnel was opened by melting the iron...'
Galadriel stepped inside without hesitation and began walking along the long tunnel. After nearly half an hour's walk, she spotted light ahead and reached the exit. Stepping out of the tunnel, a broad, fertile valley surrounded by high mountains unfolded before her.
'I knew it...'
Right in the middle of the valley, a lizard-like creature covered in massive black scales and possessing broad wings lay in a deep sleep. Seeing this, the pieces clicked into place in Galadriel's mind.
'An Obsidian dragon... interesting... I did not expect to see a young black dragon in Middle-earth...'
Tilting her head slightly, she continued to analyze the situation.
'And a hybrid, no less... this is even more unexpected... I must send a message to Dragon Island...'
Just then, as if sensing something, the giant dragon stirred from its slumber. Slowly lifting its head, it looked at Galadriel with bright purple eyes full of curiosity. Galadriel placed her hand gracefully over her chest and bowed slightly to show that she posed no threat and respected the dragon's spirit. The dragon appraised her quietly for a moment, then lazily opened its jaws in a yawn, turned away, and went back to sleep. Watching this reaction, Galadriel mused calmly.
'It has not fully awakened yet... then again, Igris is only in his early twenties; dragon blood will not manifest its full power until he is at least a hundred years old...'
Deciding she had found the answers she sought and that her work here was done, Galadriel prepared to exit his mind. But right at that moment, startled by a sudden pressure on the back of her neck, she spun around. Two burly men stood with their arms crossed, staring directly at her. Both possessing powerful, heavily muscled warrior physiques—one easily standing over two meters tall—these men wore clothing that was completely foreign and alien to Galadriel. Heavy war maces rested in both of their hands. One of the men had a thick, long mustache, while the other bore an exceptionally bushy beard. The imposing, mustached man spoke in a deep voice.
"You are in the wrong place, woman. Leave this place at once."
These words caught Galadriel completely off guard. For the very first time, a reflection inside someone's inner world was speaking to her directly and consciously. But looking closer at the men, she could sense the truth.
'These men are independent souls. They are not a part of Igris.'
Galadriel's brows knit together slowly as she tried to grasp the situation.
'What is happening?'
Right then, the other bearded man chimed in, his tone remarkably calm, yet echoing with authority and underlying fury.
"Did you not hear my grandfather, woman? Leave our grandson's mind post-haste."
Galadriel's eyes narrowed even further. The words echoed in her mind.
'Grandfather? Grandson?'
Still, without losing her composure, she replied with a serene demeanor.
"Do not misunderstand, I came here with the permission of the mind's owner."
But the two men standing before her couldn't have cared less. The imposing, mustached man replied, his voice growing harsher.
"That does not concern us. You are not welcome here. Begone at once!"
Galadriel furrowed her brows deeply and reached her mind out toward these stubborn spirits to read their thoughts. But in that instant, her mind was suddenly swept into a completely different, blood-soaked world. As dozens of sieges and violent battles flashed before her eyes, she recoiled, raising her guard.
'These men are kings... no, not kings, padishahs... that is what they call themselves...'
Galadriel was just opening her mouth to explain the situation when the bearded man, as if having lost all patience, roared in a booming voice.
"WHAT AN UNREASONABLE CREATURE YOU ARE, WOMAN! WE SAID GET OUT!"
This furious shout was no ordinary sound. Charged with sheer power and supreme authority, the voice billowed through the mind like a massive spiritual wave, attempting to hurl Galadriel out of Igris's mental realm. Relying on her centuries of wisdom and realizing that staying here was a terrible idea, Galadriel withdrew from his mind without resisting.
After the elven woman vanished from the spot, the two men turned and looked at each other. The imposing man with the thick mustache sighed softly and gave the man beside him an annoyed look.
"Ah, my Murad... Neither in our faith nor in our custom is it fitting for us to shout at a woman. I never thought I would have a grandson even more hot-tempered than myself."
Resting the heavy mace in his hand comfortably against his shoulder, Murad Khan replied calmly.
"Forgive me, grandfather. My own reign left me with no patience to speak of."
The elder man nodded in agreement with his grandson.
"Your time was indeed a grueling era... but it was not the worst of them."
After letting out a deep sigh and nodding, Murad Khan cast a brief glance back at the giant dragon sleeping behind them. Then, turning back to his grandfather, he spoke.
"Come, grandfather, let us head back. I want to hear the tales of our ancestors."
The man nodded with a smile, and the pair turned their backs and calmly set off back into the valley.
Meanwhile, in the waking world, Galadriel calmly opened her eyes. Reflecting on what she had just experienced, she thought to herself:
'I have never seen human rulers so fierce and commanding... It is good that I left when I did, for harm might have come to Igris's soul.'
Quickly brushing these thoughts aside, she called out to the young man sitting on the floor.
"All right, Igris. I am finished."
Relieved, Igris opened his eyes, turned around, and asked curiously:
"Well? What did you find out?"
Galadriel shifted her gaze to Gandalf and spoke in a calm yet serious tone.
"We were right in our suspicions, Mithrandir."
Hearing this, Gandalf stroked his centuries-old beard thoughtfully and muttered:
"Now that truly comes as a surprise, my Lady. Now I understand why Taurion was angry with me."
Igris was tired of looking back and forth between these two sages talking about him. Letting out a deep sigh, he cut in.
"So, are you two finally going to tell me what I am?"
Gandalf sighed deeply once more. Without taking his hand off his beard, he looked straight into the youth's eyes and spoke calmly.
"You are a dragon hybrid."
Igris crossed his arms and nodded nonchalantly, as if he had just heard something completely mundane.
"I see..."
But seconds later, as the full meaning of Gandalf's words echoed in his brain, he froze solid.
"WHAT DID YOU SAY? WHAT DID YOU SAY!? WHAT AM I!!?"
Gandalf remained silent for a moment in the face of his shock. Ignoring Igris briefly, he turned back to Galadriel and asked through a mental link:
'Did you see anything else, my Lady?'
Galadriel answered telepathically in the same manner.
'Yes... it was an interesting journey... a bit different than I expected. There are other souls living inside Igris's inner world.'
These words caught even the battle-tested wizard off guard. Unable to hide his surprise, Gandalf replied mentally:
'I do not understand, my Lady. What do you mean?'
In that brief silence, Igris finally snapped out of his initial wave of shock and pulled himself together. Grimacing, he rubbed his eyes with his hands, then snapped at the duo before him with an unhappy, reproachful look.
"Hey! You old pair! Stop gossiping about me in your heads and tell me what's going on!"
Galadriel quietly turned her head toward Igris and began explaining the situation patiently.
"As you heard, you are an Obsidian dragon hybrid. It is extraordinarily rare to see one of your kind in Middle-earth, especially someone as young as you."
Gandalf chimed in, nodding in agreement.
"Besides, I have never heard of a hybrid of this kind, as they do not mate with other species owing to their nature. You've become quite wrapped in mysteries, Igris."
As Igris tried to digest what he was hearing, he felt a deep throbbing in his temples. Just as a headache began to set in, a detail from the past suddenly crossed his mind. His eyes lit up.
"Ah! So that's why that crazy bitch Katarina wanted me so obsessively! If she drank my blood, that explains it!"
At the youth's words, Gandalf made a strange face and stroked his beard.
"If the Red Lady truly drank your blood, the vampires have broken a taboo. Dragons do not take kindly to such things at all."
Igris grunted unhappily.
"Tell me about it..."
Galadriel broke the brief silence in the room. Fixing her eyes directly on Igris, she asked the crucial question.
"Igris, did you know that there are other souls living within your body?"
This single question sent Igris—who until that moment had somehow managed to keep his cool against every kind of madness—into total shock, and only a single syllable echoed in the room.
"WHAT!?"