by Simon Archer
I rubbed my hands up and down my face, irritation making me jittery. “What is it with this court and being so obsessed with blood and lineage?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well,” I said as I slid my hands down my face, “it’s just such an outdated concept. Who the hell cares where you come from or who your parents are? Oh my God, is that why everyone has to introduce themselves as the son or daughter of so and so? Is it to identify everyone’s heritage?”
I stared incredulously at Maria, as if I just solved the world’s greatest mystery. I knew it wasn’t that big of a discovery, but it still felt vital and important to better understand the traditions of Insomier.
“It was not always that way, as I understand it,” Maria recalled. Her gaze shifted up and to the side like she was diving into the recesses of her brain to pull out the information. “King Garham started requiring everyone to do it.”
“King Garham?” I double-checked.
“Yes,” Maria confirmed.
It was the first time I had ever heard the late king do something I disagreed with. It was my understanding that he had been a fair and benevolent ruler. I always thought that somewhere along the way, his family had screwed up the system and created the divide between nobles and commoners. But according to Maria, who I had no reason to doubt, that wasn’t the case.
It seemed so out of character for King Garham to enact a divisive policy. Why did he need to know where everyone came from? What was the purpose of that?
“Martin?” Maria waved a hand in front of my face.
I jolted out of my reverie. “Yeah, sorry.”
“It is alright.” Maria chuckled, “I wanted to ensure you were still alive in there somewhere. You tuned out for a second there.”
“Sorry,” I repeated. “I was thinking about all of the heritage stuff. It’s just hard to swallow.”
“We dealt with it a lot,” Maria commiserated. “It wasn’t always easy for Diana and Alona. I refused to be introduced to court in protest.”
“What made you choose differently this year?” I wondered.
Maria fell silent, then. Her body stiffened as if my question had physically injured her. Once again, she refused to look me in the eye and contemplated her fidgeting fingers. Instantly, I got the distinct impression that whatever she was going to say next, she was going to omit some truths.
“It seemed time, you know?” Maria said weakly. “It has been so long, and I really only have this position because of my mom. I wanted to prove that I actually deserve this post and my place in society.”
While some of her logic made sense and the story behind her eyes seemed genuine, I couldn’t help but think that there was something Maria wasn’t saying. Something significant had to happen to make her change her mind, especially after all this time. It had been rounding eight years since she should have been introduced to court, but something about now, this year, kicked her into gear.
I swallowed the strangeness of the situation and resolved that this would not be the only time I came to the greenhouses. I planned to make it a recurring visit.
20
After making arrangements to visit Maria in a couple of days, I bid her farewell. Hopefully, the first of many visits in the future, and if a couple of those visits managed to move towards my bedroom, well, I wasn’t going to complain. I made my way to the Marked Woods. I was supposed to be meeting Sayles there for my painting session.
Bonding with Ninji had gone well and was a pleasant surprise. I was grateful for her gift of grace, especially how it added to my skills in the sparring ring. I was anxious to spend time with the other members of the clan and learn about them.
Also, after seeing a similar passion in Maria as she led me about the greenhouses, it only made me want to paint more. I was ready to pick up a brush again and find a blank canvas. I wanted to paint some of those unique plants I’d seen today onto the rock. I wanted to preserve their lives and engrave them into my memory. There was no chance in hell that I was going to remember their names, but I could remember their shapes and colors.
I walked through the town and passed Styu’s shop. I couldn’t see him through the window which probably meant he was in the back, working hard on a project. I resisted the urge to check on him.
Miji was forever on my mind, but I knew he was functioning and doing as well as he could be, considering the circumstances. But I didn’t want him to be in those circumstances in the first place.
To distract myself, I flipped through the mental images of the flora and fauna I’d seen this afternoon, like a kid quizzing themselves with flashcards. I plotted out my next piece and arranged the plants into a colorful array.
Sayles was waiting for me when I approached my usual spot. He sat atop a nearby rock with his webbed wings wrapped around the front of it. I caught him stretching his long neck and arching his back, stabilized by his claws in the rock, and he stretched so far that he bent his upper body almost in half. A ripple of cracks penetrated the air in an impressive chorus.
“Nice,” I complimented as I approached.
Sayles didn’t move as he replied, “Thank you. My body gets stiff when it is in the air for too long.”
“What do you mean by that?” I asked with a confused glance.
“I mean that my skin needs water, and the air dries it out. Makes me stiff and sore,” Sayles explained with closed eyes. He breathed in and out, a deep yoga breath, before continuing. “The lake in the gardens is not quite deep enough, but it does the trick.”
“I didn’t know you preferred the water to the sky,” I commented.
“Well, that is the whole point of this, is it not?” Sayles replied. “To get to know one another?”
“Fair point.”
I crossed to my rock, letting Sayles stay on his with his various stretches. A late summer rain had washed away my last piece, and I stared at the stained rock with leftover streaks of color.
While I knew this was the natural process of outdoor paint art, a small piece of my heart cracked every time I saw the remains of a painting. It was not a permanent thing, sometimes, my medium of choice, and this was not the first piece to be washed away in this world. Nor would it be the last.
Determined to move on, I set my paint cans on the ground and unlaced the ribbon that held the brushes in their bundle. I imagined the blank canvas, waiting to be decorated once again in a swath of color and vibrant images.
“How do you do it?” Sayles’s voice interrupted my beginning process.
“Do what?” I asked for clarification.
“Deal with the loss,” Sayles finished. “We saw this piece when you bonded with Ninji. Now, here you are again, and it is gone. There is no record of it. It is quite sad to lose something you worked so hard on.”
“Sure it is,” I answered. I stayed crouched on one knee but turned to face the white dragon. “However, there is a beauty in it too.”
“How so?”
“My dad asked me the same thing once,” I remembered. “I was painting outside, nearly done with a project when out of nowhere, the sky opened up, and it began to pour. The paint disappeared in a river of colored water, leaking off the canvas and smearing everything in its path until the drawing was gone with the rain.”
“That must have been devastating as a young child,” Sayles commented. His eyes were open now, full of sympathy.
“See, that’s the thing,” I said. “It wasn’t. My dad was sure I was going to burst into tears and mourn the lost work, but I did the exact opposite. I smiled.”
“You were happy the piece was gone?” Sayles clicked his tongue. “I knew you were an odd one, Mark Anthony, but this reaches another level.”
“You don’t get it.” I chuckled, bemused by his thoughts on my weirdness. “I turned to my dad and said, ‘I get to make it again.’ There is something so magical to me about getting to work again and again. Nothing is permanent, and I get to continue and create different moments of beauty. It’s precious
, knowing that a piece is only going to exist temporarily. It brings me an odd sort of peace.”
Sayles shook his head. He glanced up at me with wonder, awe, and a little bit of exasperation.
“That is entirely too philosophical for my taste,” Sayles replied with a bored tone.
“Well, you asked!” I burst out with a laugh. “If you didn’t want to get philosophical, as you say, don’t ask such loaded questions.”
“I was trying to empathize with you,” Sayles defended. “I didn’t expect you to get all sappy and contemplative on me.”
“Duly noted,” I joked. “No more deep conversations. We’ll talk only of daily activities and the weather.”
“Sounds glorious,” Sayles said. I wasn’t quite sure if he was kidding until he gave me the cheesiest grin and a simple, fleeting wink.
I rolled my eyes and sat back on my knees. I hovered my hand over the paint, seeking out the right color to start with. My mind’s eye flittered to the cranberry-colored reeds and grabbed the red and violet paint cans. Mixed together, I knew I could get a deep, rich cranberry color that would mimic the plant perfectly.
I inched forward, still on my knees, grabbed a brush, and stretched out my hand. The brush was poised at the ready. The tip of it coated with the paint about to touch the rock when Sayles spoke, interrupting the whole ritual.
“Do you want to go swimming?”
The question, so out of left field, caused my hand to divert left and leave an awkward and shaky red line through the rock. It looked like a wound, something left by a needle or thin knife.
“What?” I asked, looking over my shoulder at the dragon.
“Do you,” Sayles said, slower and with more emphasis on each consonant. “Want. To. Go. Swim-ming?”
“Not particularly,” I responded. My nose crinkled at the thought of it.
“You do not enjoy swimming?” Sayles asked, picking up on my displeasure.
“No,” I admitted. I returned the paintbrush to its position, determined to make something of this first mistake because I didn’t have any water to clear up such a large error.
Once again, though, Sayles cut in the second the paint touched the rock. “Why not?”
I exhaled audibly and asked the universe for patience. “It’s just not my thing. I’m not very good at it, and the last time I went swimming, it was at warp speed with some mermaids. I’m not keen to relive the experience any time soon.”
“What if I could make it better?” Sayles offered slyly. “What if I could make you good at it? I swear, then, you would enjoy it.”
“What are you implying?” I asked, even though I had a nagging feeling in the back of my head that I knew exactly what the dragon was implying. I set the paintbrush down and waited.
“I am inviting you to go swimming with me,” Sayles said again. “Would you like to go?”
“Are you really giving me a choice, or is this one of those things that you’re going to keep bugging me about until I agree?” I wondered. It was completely reasonable to think Sayles would be the exact creature to pester and plead until he got his way. I would have to note that for future conversations and negotiations with him.
“I think it would be a great idea,” Sayles coaxed, not really answering my question. “What do you say?”
I released a sigh and bundled up my brush set again. Something told me that this was the direction this bonding needed to go. I needed to listen to Sayles, and while, yes, I would have certainly preferred that I got to know all the dragons while painting, that expectation was unrealistic.
Sayles was not Ffamran nor Ninji. He was his own being, and I needed to respect his needs and wishes. If this dragon wanted to go swimming, maybe I should try swimming with him… as much as my instincts griped and groaned against the idea of it.
“Sure,” I said, putting as much enthusiasm in my voice as I could. “Let’s go swimming. Do you have a place in mind?”
“There is a deep lake with lots of connecting caverns not far from here,” Sayles replied, not bothering to hide his glee.
“Great,” I said. “Lead the way.”
As it turned out, Sayles led me to the exact lake that Alona and I emerged from with the mermaids over the summer.
Sayles waded into the water with the ease of a swan. He descended deeper and deeper into the lake until his entire lower body was covered. His wings curled into him like a duck, and he waded around the shallow part of the lake while I watched him.
“Are you coming in?” Sayles invited with a jerk of his head.
“Do you know about this lake?” I called out to him since he was paddling further and further out.
“I know that it is large, and deep, and has the potential for lots of adventuring,” Sayles said with a devious smile. “I know you enjoy adventures, Martin.”
“Sure I do,” I replied.
“Have you ever had an underwater adventure?” Sayles teased with an eyebrow wiggle.
“Underwater?” I gaped. “You said swimming. You said nothing about going underwater.”
“Didn’t I?” Sayles asked the air.
“You didn’t,” I reassured him, but he didn’t seem to hear me.
“Whatever I said, it does not matter now.” Sayles waved a wing at me, beckoning me into the water. “Join me, Martin. You know you want to.”
“Will you try it?” Sayles said with the kindest gaze I’d ever seen on his face. His translucent white skin glowed angelically in the fading sunlight. “Because I genuinely believe you will enjoy yourself if you would just have some faith and get in the water,” Sayles’ joking, innocent manner disappeared. For the first time since we’d met here today, I could see the seriousness in his eyes and hear it in his tone.
The white dragon truly believed what he was saying. He really thought I would enjoy getting in the water and swimming with him. I didn’t know why Sayles believed it so strongly, but it was the least I could do to take him seriously.
“Fine.” I bent over and removed one shoe, then the other one. Next, my socks came off, accompanied by a string of curses. I muttered what I knew of the Hail Mary prayer as I rolled up my pants to just under my kneecaps. Finally, in complete silence, I pulled my shirt over my head, so I was bare-chested.
With my eyes still closed, I maneuvered forward until the crisp water licked my toes. I yelped and jumped back, not just from the cold but from the anticipation of wading further in. My heart thundered so loudly I was sure Sayles could hear it from where he floated further out.
Nevertheless, I could hear his voice through the pounding thump, thump, thump, thump in my ears and the knocking sensation in my chest.
“Come on, Martin, get in the water, and all will be well,” Sayles assured me.
I inhaled. On my next exhale, I released a battle cry worthy of a horde of Scottish warriors and launched myself into the water. I ran sloppily towards Sayles, splashing and shouting the whole way until the water was up to my waist. Then I slowed my wading until the ground left my feet and I had to swim.
“Wonderful, Martin, simply wonderful!” Sayles complimented me with an annoying amount of enthusiasm. The dragon then flipped himself over so his legs were in the air and his back floated along the water. He stretched his neck out, long and elegant, as his massive form enjoyed the sensation.
Sayles’s rolling caused a small wave surge and propelled me back, while a cup of water splashed into my face. I reached up with a hand to wipe away the excess water.
“Okay, Sayles, you got me out here,” I said. “What now?”
Sayles’s snout turned, and I realized he was close enough to be inches from my face. His crystal blue eyes bore into mine and glistened with delight.
“Now, we bond,” Sayles said with a joyful smile. “And then? We go on an adventure!”
“Wait,” I said, recoiling back from him slightly. “We just do it? We don’t need to travel to an extra dimension or anything? We don’t need to sign a formal agreement in blood or something?”<
br />
“One of the dragons made you write in blood?” Sayles said, clearly appalled by the very idea.
“No,” I assured him. “I was exaggerating… but it really is just that simple?”
“I am not one for pomp and circumstance, Martin,” Sayles explained. “I prefer to use my time for joy and experiencing the pleasures in life. Like floating on a lake in the middle of the Marked Woods with my king.”
“That’s…” I searched for the appropriate word. “Refreshing.”
“You have a very unique clan of dragons,” Sayles told me as if that wasn’t something I already didn’t know. “You didn’t expect all of the bonding processes to be the same, did you?”
“I guess I expected them to be as equally dramatic,” I admitted. I treaded more water so I could get closer to Sayles and lower my voice conspiratorially. “Though if you could put in a word to the others that if they make it this easy, I would be more enthusiastic about the whole process.”
Sayles let out a ring of laughter that echoed throughout the clearing. “I do not believe that any word from me will change their minds, but I am happy to give it a try for you, my lord.”
“Nah,” I relented, “don’t bother. It was worth a shot, though.”
“Speaking of bonding, are you ready?” Sayles asked, eyes narrowing.
“If it’s really as simple as you claim, why not?” I said with as much of a shrug as I could manage underwater.
Sayles didn’t need another confirmation. He stretched forward and put his nose to mine, like a boop or light tap. Upon contact with his dog-like nose, a shiver ran through my body. It shook my spine and radiated to the top of my head.
Suddenly, my limbs felt energized by the water. They moved smoothly through it like a dancer. I kicked my legs easily and steadily. The exhausting flailing stopped. Additionally, there was a clarity in my nostrils. The air was surprisingly clear and void of any scent. The pine of the forest and mustiness of the wood disappeared. My nose wasn’t clogged, but rather as though someone had erased all aroma around me.