by Chogan Swan
Seth wondered what would happen if the Council discovered he was privy to most of their truenames. He might not live long. Dragons were jealous of their truenames, but not much can remain secret from a determined wizard like Jyrmak. Seth forced himself to relax, but it was no easy task. A dragon's eyes have a force to them. Even young dragons have an unsettling gaze, but after years, centuries, the effect multiplies. His stomach jumped at the power fixed upon him.
He brought his reactions under control. The Elder's eyes flickered, and Seth sensed a whisper of communication passing among the Council on some level he could not reach. Then he detected a gentle probing at his mind. They were trying to read him. So, this was the reason for the long silences.
His spirit rose up to take control. This was a thing not permitted. “You do not have dominion over men,” he said firmly, putting up a shield.
“Skillful, for one so young,” said the Elder with approval.
Jian the Golden raised his head from the ground where it rested. “It is obvious why the trystcall chose him; concealment was clearly part of his training.”
The Shadowdragon stirred and eased forward like approaching nightfall. He stopped beside the elder. “I thought I saw something pertaining to us before he covered up; it concerns me,” he hissed.
Seth felt a panic threatening to explode in him, but he fought it down.
The Elder glanced sideways at the Shadowdragon then turned back to Seth. “The summons would not fail to find the one we need. His secrets are his own. As are yours, Shadowdragon.”
“Of course,” the Shadowdragon whispered and slid back to his spot.
“Come, tell us about yourself,” said the Elder. “There are few of the island blood left in the world. Your dress and voice mark you as a coastlander from the south. What is your lineage?”
Seth thought. He needed to answer, but he couldn't mention the line of Abra anywhere without risk. He'd have to speak widely. “I can only say my father was of the house of Eord,” he said, hoping to lead them off toward other, less dangerous, paths. The answer was true, it satisfied the question, and it led thought away from his mother's line, which was infinitely more dangerous to him.
“Ah,” said Corona Sea Mistress, “then you are a half-caste.”
Seth felt pleased and guilty at once, it had worked.
“It does not matter,” said Corona, “the house of Eord were good friends and they loved the sea. There is no shame.”
Seth bowed to the Sea Mistress but said nothing; after his violent reaction to the probing, he’d—belatedly—remembered Nugget's advice.
“Let's get to the matter at hand,” rumbled Firedrake.
The rest of the Council thrummed in agreement.
The Elder turned to Seth. “How are you called, young man?” he asked.
“I am called Seth.”
“It is fitting,” said the Elder. “It means appointed, in the island tongue, and the trystcall has appointed you.”
“I am privileged to honor the ancient bond between our people,” Seth said.
“Yes,” said the Elder, “an ancient bond, even as we dragons measure time, but I remember the pact well.”
Seth licked his lips. This was an old dragon to be sure. “I have been wondering, what I can do, that you cannot carry out more easily yourselves?” he said respectfully.
“Do you know anything about the history of our race?” asked the Elder.
“Not as much as I would like,” Seth admitted. “And what I do know might not pertain.”
“Well,” said the Elder as he lowered himself to the ground. “I will stick to the necessary. When the Creator made dragons, he created seven beings from the dust of a star. Each of them he made great—though still young—and set them upon this world. There were four drakes and three females, for he knew one of the drakes would never want a mate.”
The Elder paused.
A tiny stirring came from the Shadowdragon, but the Elder continued. “He called the lone drake before him. 'Darkfire,' he said. 'I see you do not now desire a mate. What would you ask of me instead?' But, being newly made, Darkfire did not know what to ask for. 'I am young, Father-of-All, and I do not yet know my heart's desire,' he replied. The Father looked upon Darkfire and loved him. 'When you know your heart, my child, you may ask and I will not withhold. But great heights or great depths may come from a life alone. Beware the danger of losing the knowledge of your heart.'”
The Elder dipped his chin. “Life went on, as life will, and the dragons brought forth their firstborn. The created dragons—I'm sure you've heard their usenames in the stories already—were the first Council and governed. Dragons and men might have lived many more ages, knowing nothing of each other, for dragons prefer high, windy places and men the green valleys and hills. Then—too soon—they met by chance.” A flow of colors cascaded across the Elders neck.
“A man called Ehring Farwalker wandered into Dragonsmere. He happened upon a young drake, called Jadeglow, who was fishing in a lake. Now Jadeglow was young and not much in touch with his memories yet. He was not a good fisher and was growing frustrated. When he splashed out of the lake, he surprised Ehring who was drinking there. Jadeglow mistook him for a game beast and leaped at him, but Ehring drew his sword, and Jadeglow died. But as Jadeglow died, his spirit spoke to Ehring, and both knew the mistake they had made, but too late.” A sigh from some of the council members drifted through the chamber.
“Though it was a difficult journey for a man on foot, Ehring climbed the cliffs to Dragonhome to take the news to Jadeglow's kindred. Though none blamed him, he offered service-bond to the Council, and the children of his children still honor that bond. You are the seventh called since that day.”
The Elder paused a moment. “But that is not the main point to this history. Jadeglow was a favorite pupil of Darkfire's. He had been quick to learn the arts Darkfire taught and there was a strong bond between them. After Jadeglow died, Darkfire stopped teaching and withdrew to the vast caverns beneath his mountain home. He said he had no desire to have any close to him since the sorrow of loss was so great. And—though he never openly blamed Farwalker—he refused to acknowledge the service-bond the Council had accepted. Before he left, he gave an order to all dragonborn not to follow him. We have not seen him since then, but we know he has called away some of his old pupils in recent years.” The Elder paused again.
“Of late... I have had... dreams,” he intoned, as though trying to stick to words Seth would understand. “We call them drucindar—visions. I know the way our minds work is strange to men, but these dreams are clear warnings. There is an evil loose and growing in the world, and my dreams connect Darkfire to it.”
Seth chewed his lower lip in thought. “And you are under his order not to follow him, so you need a man not bound by the order of an elder dragon.” He tensed. He’d forgotten, spoken without being asked a question.
The Elder seemed not to notice the blunder and thrummed an agreement. “You see well into the matter. In truth, we need a dragon who is not bound. I do not mean to say you are inadequate, but a man would become lost in Darkfire's caverns. Without a dragon's sense of direction, underground... well, a man would never survive even if there were no illusions.”
“I had thought Darkfire was the last of the created dragons,” Seth said, unable to quell his curiosity.
“Yes,” sighed the Elder. “All the rest have gone from us, leaving only memories now.” “I see,” Seth said, “so I don't have a chance, but you're stuck with me anyway?”
“You have a chance,” said the Elder with a soft, huffing chuckle. “But you will have to become a dragon.”
Chapter 15 (Dragonhome)
On a high ledge atop Dragonhome, the sun threw its first light on Seth and the Elder. The ancient dragon stretched like an immense cat and shook out the folds of his wings. Ages had not dulled the glitter of his brilliant blue and green scales. In miniature, he could have been fashioned of emeralds and topaz and hung at a Que
en's throat.
It is never easy to judge the exact size of an adult dragon. Dragonsruck and illusion can trick the eyes, but the Elder was at least half again the size of Windsinger. The dragonsruck emanating from him was overpowering and seemed to make the very air shiver. Oddly, Seth was almost comfortable in his presence.
Now, however, he was saying things that confused Seth.
“When I said you had to become a dragon, I did not speak of a physical change,” said the Elder.
“You mean then, I need to learn to understand the way dragons think?”
“That's part of it,” admitted the Elder.
“But... But that could take a long time.”
“I suppose it could. It would depend on how you went about it.”
Seth had been questioning the Elder in this vein for several minutes, and it was dawning on him he was going around in circles. The old drake was trying to soften him up, raising his curiosity. Perhaps this was the reason Gemglow had told him to wait for a direct question before speaking. Seth leaned back against a boulder and said nothing for a moment.
“Will you tell me what you have in mind?” he asked.
The Elder dipped his chin. “You would need to enter our covenant with the Creator. We will graft you into us.” The Elder bent his head to meet Seth's eyes. “It would be a work of the Spirit. To understand dragons, you must become one.”
Seth considered.
“We do not suggest this lightly,” said the Elder.
“Your sincerity is clear,”
“We will go through this with you.”
Seth paused, considering the Elder's usage of we. By his body language, he appeared to refer only to himself, but Seth wasn’t aware dragons used their word for we in the royal sense.
“Would another not serve as well?” he asked.
The Elder twitched his tail in negation. “We would not trust another with so delicate a task. You may be the only hope we have. If you were to seek the Creator with a younger dragon, you would be subject to Darkfire's ban.”
“But mustn't you obey the ban?”
The Elder nodded. “But, I will not be in the way,” he said.
“Can you explain?” Seth said.
“The merging of the covenant will be with my father.”
“But... I thought your father was dead.”
“Yes, I suppose,” said the Elder, “but it doesn't bother him.” The elder dipped his chin to punctuate. “A dragon's spirit can come back to this world if sent. His spirit will become alive to your spirit. It is a great mystery—precursor of a greater mystery to come. You will approach the Creator with Moonglow, my earthly father. He was of the firstborn and has no compulsion to obey Darkfire. So, you will enter the Creator's covenant with dragonkind.”
Seth shook his head in wonder; “My mentor never told me anything like this was possible,” Seth said. “Is this a common occurrence?”
“No, this will be the first.”
“Where is your father now?”
“Dragons have all the memories of our ancestors available to us in our souls. My father's memories are here, and my father is here. You will share his memories, but the Creator must send his spirit.”
The Elder lowered his chest to the ledge; his position copied the dragon throne of Evelon. Seth had seen drawings of it in one of Jyrmak's books, and he understood the invitation to sit and lean back against the Elder's breast.
Seth lowered himself back against the shining scales. After the chill of the morning, the dragon's body seemed scalding hot at first, but in a moment, the heat was warm and welcome.
Seth opened himself and his spirit moved, reaching out; the warmth surrounded him; and it was as though he dreamed.
~~~~~~~~~~{}~~~~~~~~~~
Someone stared down at a fragile, soft-bodied creature with no scales at all for protection.
Evenstar trumpeted in joy as they whirled higher and higher in the courtship flight.
In the council chamber, his son, Green Traveler Rising, took the vows of his council inauguration.
A whirlwind beat at him and tossed him about the sky as he rowed with his wings, trying to twist away from its violent grip. It came from nowhere without warning while he napped on a hillside. He was tiring...
Flickers, images. Dragon eyes swirling with an unfathomable request. The only way.
Agreement.
Before a shining throne he fell on his face to hide his eyes as light and power flowed out like a river.
~~~~~~~~~~{}~~~~~~~~~~
Seth woke. Stars wheeled above him, cold light. The Elder stirred and rose.
Seth called a farewell—answered at a distance. He lay back again and looked at the stars. Somewhere there were quiet voices, a low background murmuring.
So he was a dragon now? He felt no different. Yet, there was something... He closed his eyes.
~~~~~~~~~~{}~~~~~~~~~~
Seth woke to the hissing sounds of an argument.
“No you will not wake him, Emberglow, that would be most discourteous. I'm sure he wouldn't be able to tell you anything about the council meeting anyway. Those kinds of things are always secret.”
Seth smothered a chuckle. Gemglow reminded him of his childhood governess. If she didn't have someone around to direct, life would lose its interest.
“Quiet, he's waking up.”
Seth squinted his eyes open. The sun was well up in the sky. A circle of young dragons, sun glimmering from their scales, looked down on him. A small, crimson drake bounded from the cave opening at the back of the ledge and hurried over to the group.
From beneath his wing, he pulled a small bundle. “Here are your things. I put in some sun-dried fish and fruit that Windsinger said you could eat. He said you would leave this morning, so I got it ready...”
Seth stood up and took his gear, thanking the young drake. Then, he slung his sword over his back and tucked his flute under his belt.
Nugget, the gold drake, spoke up, “If you asked for us, perhaps we could go with you. We could be useful.”
Seth nodded. “I thank you for the offer, but the way I'm going is only for me this time. You have all been good hosts, and I have enjoyed meeting you.”
The circle of youngsters bobbed their heads in courteous reply.
“If you ever travel to Gynt, look for Seth Arodan, my use-name, but please do not spread information about my whereabouts. I have many dangerous enemies and it might put us all at risk.”
One by one, the young dragons stepped up to him and touched his forehead with their snouts. Hot, spicy air blew around his face as each breathed his use-name and their own into his hair. Then they all stepped back and raised their voices in a soft chord of sound.
Seth wished he knew what the ceremony meant. He wondered if he’d remember later.
“If you are ready to go, Windsinger is waiting for you in the hall of light,” said Garnet.
“Thank you, all. You have made my stay here a happy one.” Seth said and turned to leave. He wished he could travel with his new friends. He would have loved to journey with them anywhere. The joy the young dragons took in life had been refreshing after his harrowing misadventures, but only he could travel where he was bound.
Seth found his way to the hall of light—the sunlit, crystal cavern where he and Windsinger had first arrived. Windsinger wasn't there. Instead, the dark coils of the Shadowdragon filled the chamber.
“Hail, Appointed,” said the Shadowdragon's silky voice.
“Hail, Council Member.”
“I am called Shadowdragon. The others in the Council have asked me to bear you on the first wing of your journey,” said the drake as he uncoiled from his resting position. “They judged that I may be the only one to have a chance of approaching your objective unnoticed. I was his pupil for many years, so I know the paths his powers might be questing. Even though he is unlikely to be expecting any intruders, his security is a long habit.”
Seth hesitated. After the incident before the counc
il, he didn't trust the Shadowdragon, but he had little choice. “I am honored,” he said.
The Shadowdragon stood and held up his front limb for Seth to mount. It was a long way up. There was no harness, but Seth felt a shiver of power about him and knew he was anchored . As he was wondering how the drake would fit through the opening to the cavern, he felt the Shadowdragon twist them in an odd direction, throwing them into an explosion of wind and sunlight. They were in flight, outside, beneath a brilliant blue sky.
The Shadowdragon angled into the shady side of a nearby peak and slid down its wind-sheltered side into a series of shadowed valleys. They swept through miles of valleys in a soundless, effortless glide, and at last, into a bare and dark crevice in the bedrock of the hills. The walls were black and chalky as though they’d been scorched long ago. They landed with only a rustling.
“Darkfire's domain starts here,” the Shadowdragon said in a voice soft as sigh. “Half a league farther, the walls of this crevasse close over at the top. I know not what you will find then.” Against the blackened walls, it was difficult for Seth to see the Shadowdragon well, but then an even deeper shadow fell between them, and the dark drake vanished.
Seth heard the whisper of his wings drift down the canyon from the way they had come. He turned to look the other way where the walls were closer and blacker, failing to suppress a shiver.
Another whisper flitted past, and he stopped to listen for a moment then faded into the dark.
Chapter 16 (Darkfire)
Seth upended the waterskin over his mouth and savored the liquid trickle. One mouthful. He used it to rinse his parched tongue before swallowing—only two swallows left. He glanced at his hand again. The red glow was more noticeable now. Two days ago, when he first realized that even deep inside the maze of tunnels he wasn't blind, he’d almost talked himself out of it. Maybe the tunnels held a slight luminescence that helped him find his way; Evelonians had good night vision. But, unless his body now shone from inside too, there was more to it than that. He no longer needed to call the covenant light, but he kept it to add detail to his surroundings.