by Robert Beers
“Here we are.” The Dragonet gestured with a forelimb. “The eating place.”
Adam beheld the largest room he'd ever seen in his life, and it was full of Dragons lying down to feed. Some were lying across from another diner, separated by, to only another Dragon, a small table heavily weighted down with fruits and salads. Highly decorated partitions divided the room into cozy individual areas where diners could eat and converse in private.
He saw no servers such as were found in the Pubs and Inns. Where did they get their food?
“You'll find no killed living creatures here.” Adam's Dragonet host to the eating place craned his neck as he looked over the room for an open space.
“Was that a joke?” Adam looked up at his host.
“It was. It was.” The Dragonet bounced a little in glee at Adam's question. “Statement of the obvious as irony. Oh, humor is such fun.”
“Before we fall over laughing, can you show me where we get our food?” Adam's stomach rumbled quietly.
The Dragonet cocked his head at the sound of Adam's stomach. “Oh, you are hungry, aren't you? Come, let's go this way.”
He led Adam in a twisting course through the partitions, past a number of fruit-bearing trees and berry bushes in neat pots lined with glossy ceramic tiles. Imbedded into the ceiling overhead, crystalline panes directed the afternoon's sunlight to the plants below.
On the back side of the interior orchard was spread a Dragon-sized vegetarian buffet with a variety of salads, fruits and some pale yellow bits in interesting shapes glistening with some kind of herb-flavored clear sauce. Plates sized for Dragon proportions along with smaller of a size Adam could handle lay stacked at the beginning of the spread.
His host reached into a bowl filled with the yellow bits, and lifted one out with a thumb and forefinger. “Here, try this, I think you'll find it delicious.”
Adam cautiously took a bite of the stuff and chewed. The flavor was strange, but pleasing. It had an astringent sharpness laid over a background of herbs. The texture was similar to that of the crust of an egg and cheese pudding, slightly chewy but not overly so.
He nodded to the Dragonet. “It's very nice. Can I have more?”
Adam was loaded down with a plate of the food. The Dragonet called it Pfasla. A loaf of sweet smelling bread, a large tumbler of a citrus-scented water, and a few strange looking orange fruits full of little spiky points rounded out his meal.
“Where do I sit?” Adam looked around for a table that wasn't occupied, but he couldn't see over the partitions.
“Ah ... over there.” The Dragonet led him to an empty table near the edge of the room.
The tabletop came up to Adam's chin, and he saw nothing nearby that could be used as a chair or stool. The Dragonet settled down onto his haunches and elbows, and proceeded to eat.
He looked up at Adam. “You're not eating. Is something wrong with the food?”
“No, it's the table. I'm not exactly Dragon-sized.”
“Oh. Oh, my apologies. I became so comfortable with your company that I forgot all about you being human.” The Dragonet reached across the table and lifted Adam onto its top.
“There.” He said with satisfaction. “You can lie down there and eat with me.”
“I eat better if I sit up while I do it.” Adam reached for some of the Pfasla.
“Really? Dragons use sitting for teaching and learning and sometimes for painting. What do humans use lying down for?”
“Usually for resting or sleeping.” Adam broke open the loaf of bread and tried it with some of the Pfasla. The bread was as sweet as it smelled, and mixed deliciously with the sour/herb flavor of the Pfasla.
He washed the food down with some of the water. “What's your name?”
The Dragonet paused with a handful of salad halfway to its mouth. “You wish to exchange namesign with me?” He sounded surprised and delighted all at once. “You will treat me as an adult? Oh, this is glorious!” He stuffed the salad into his mouth and chewed vigorously.
Adam thought. “Well, I suppose it's up to me to do it first.” He sat up straight on the tabletop and placed his hand over his chest. “Maybe this is formal enough for Dragon etiquette.” He thought.
“I am called Adam. Human, Wizard and swordsman, at your service.” He finished with a half bow from the seated position.
The Dragonet swallowed his mouthful of salad and sat up onto his haunches. He duplicated Adam's hand-over-the-heart pose and reclined his head in a Dragon bow. “Drinaugh, at your service and your family's.”
Drinaugh's face split in a wide Dragon grin after his response, and then his eyes widened as his stared at Adam. “Wizard? Did you say Wizard? Like the white-haired human the elders talk to? That sort of Wizard?”
“No, not really. The white-haired human is my Teacher in how to be a Wizard. I'm ... a little clumsy with my shapings.” Adam drank some more of the water. It had an aftertaste of sweet lemons and oranges.
“Oh?” Drinaugh picked up one of the melon-sized fruits and popped it into his mouth. It made a popping sound when he bit down. “In what way?”
Adam grimaced at the memory of the Garlocs. “I guess my powers are kind of strong, and I haven't mastered the technique of how to not put too much into the shaping.”
“Hmmm.” Drinaugh considered this. “So, what does a Wizard do? What makes a Human a Wizard?”
“I'm still figuring out what a Wizard does. I've learned a few things about what a Wizard can do.”
“Oh? What sort of things?” Drinaugh picked up another fruit.
“I haven't done much,” Adam shrugged. “I'm still learning. I've made some rocks explode, and I lit our way in a couple of dark places.”
“Um hmm. Um hmm. And what makes you able to do this ... shaping? Is it different from making rocks explode?”
Adam smothered another laugh by drinking some more water. “No, actually, shaping is part of making rocks explode, light being made for dark places, and a host of other things. You see, what a Wizard does is called shaping. Shaping the forces to do what the Wizard wants done.”
“Oh. Silly me.” Drinaugh giggled and reached for another fruit. There was quite a pile of them on his plate. “Please forgive my misunderstanding.” He chewed the fruit and worked on some more of his salad.
Adam busied himself lowering the amount of Pfasla on his plate.
Drinaugh raised his head again and looked at Adam. “Adam.” He said the name as if tasting it on his tongue.
“Yes?”
“What makes you a Wizard?” Drinaugh's tone had a note of longing in it.
“Well...” Adam tried to remember the essence of what Milward had told him all those months ago. “It seems I was born with it, Drinaugh. It seems everyone who becomes a Wizard is born with it, and if it is going to show, it does so when they begin entering adulthood.”
“Puberty.” Drinaugh's lips smacked as he chewed a fruit.
“Pardon?”
“Puberty, the start of adulthood. The change of life, where the child's body begins to metamorphose into that of an adult.”
“Is that what Dragons call it?” Adam used some of the bread to mop up the last of the Pfasla sauce. “I've never heard the word before.”
“I understand that both Humans and Dragons call it that. How can you be a Wizard and not know such a thing?” Drinaugh changed from fruit back to salad.
“I told you. I'm still learning how to be a Wizard. I don't know if you can tell, but I'm still growing. I won't be a fully grown man for a few years, yet.” He washed down the bread with some water.
“Really? Oh this is wonderful news!”
Adam didn't see what was so wonderful about it.
“This means we have a lot in common. I'm still growing, too. Is there anything you'd like to know about Dragons? I could tell you so much. Go ahead, ask me a question.”
Adam sipped some more water. “Something I've heard from all the Dragons on occasion. They mention the law. What is th
e law?”
“Oooo, such a question.” Drinaugh's eyes closed for a moment then opened. “The Winglord should be the one to answer such a question, but I'll try. I'm still learning how to be a Dragon myself, you know.”
“Isn't that something you're born as?”
“Oh, no. Being a Dragon means understanding and living Dragon law. Without that I would be nothing more than ... an intelligent beast.”
Adam said nothing; his mouth was full.
“The law teaches us how to interact within Dragon society. We are more a family than a community. Each Dragon cares for the welfare of the other the way a family is supposed to.”
Drinaugh indicated the eating place with a wave of his hand. “Take this place, for example. I have heard that humans must pay for their food unless they are capable of growing it themselves. Is this true?”
Adam thought about that. He nodded, “In most cases I'd have to say yes, unless that person wanted to live completely off the land, they'd have to pay for some of the makings, at least.”
“Not here.”
“Ummm?” Adam's mouth was full again.
“No one pays for food here. In fact, the human system of exchange would be against Dragon law.” Drinaugh looked smugly pleased.
Adam drank the last of his water. “Then how do you get any work done if no one gets paid?”
“Ah, That's one of the things that makes Dragon law so special. The Rule of Three states that there is the body, the mind and the spirit.”
Adam heard the wolves in the back of his head speaking of the hunt and the elements of nature. The Dragons obviously had a different view.
Drinaugh continued. “If those three are kept in harmony, then the individual, as well as the society they are a part of, is satisfied.”
“What does that have to do with no one getting paid?” Adam worked at the rind on a fruit.
“Why, everything, of course.” Drinaugh picked up another fruit and toyed with it with his claw tips. “No Dragon is expected to do a task they are not suited for.”
Adam shrugged. “So? That seems pretty ordinary to me. The alternative would be stupid.”
“There is more to it than just that, of course. It has to do with what you are suited to do in here.” He tapped his chest. “And in here.” He tapped his head.
Adam had a feeling he heard this part before, and he told the Dragonet so.
Drinaugh smiled. “See, I knew we had much in common. What it means to Dragons is that as I grow, I will show what I am best suited for by what I am best at, and by what I most enjoy doing.”
“You mean your talent?”
“Exactly.” Drinaugh flipped the fruit into his mouth. “According to the law, a Dragon's talent is to be supported and encouraged by the society as a whole. When that Dragon becomes an adult member of society, it is ready to add that talent to all the others being used for the good of the whole. And here is the most important part. The work is done because he or she loves doing it, not because they have to.”
“What do you want to do, Drinaugh?”
“I don't know yet.” The Dragonet mused. “I do hope it is something terribly exciting and interesting.”
“Ah, young Drinaugh. I see you found one of our human visitors.” The new Dragon voice came from behind Adam.
Drinaugh looked up. “Venerable Chabaad! Please, lie down and share our meal.”
Adam turned to see the one Drinaugh was speaking to. He was the first old-looking Dragon he'd seen. The diamond dust sparkle he'd seen on the others was almost gone, and the coloration of the old Dragon's hide showed white around the muzzle. The usual well-fleshed appearance of the other Dragons was replaced in this ancient specimen with thinness bordering on the cadaverous.
The old Dragon shook his head at Drinaugh's invitation. “Thank you for the kind gesture, young Drinaugh, but I have dined quite sufficiently already. Have you begun to satisfy your curiosity about humans?”
Drinaugh looked at Adam. “Oh, I'm just getting started, venerable Chabaad.”
* * * *
Milward sat on his bed and thought. He was not the type for self-flagellation, but he did tend to be introspective if he caught himself acting, as he called it, sheep-headed. As he looked at it, he'd been acting sheep-headed since the day he met the twins. It had to be a problem of age. He was into his twelfth century, and they hadn't even seen their second decade, so of course he had to know better what they should and shouldn't know about their path, right? Wrong. Mashglach had seen so, and, as nicely as a Dragon could, had pinned him to the board like he was a bug specimen already dried and labeled.
Well, there was no way around it. He had to make it up to the lad. They had far too much to go through before their path together was finished. There would be no use in the journey being complicated by having this sort of thing between them.
His long talks with the Winglord had done nothing except solidify some of his fears. The Dragons smelled something in the ether that made them very nervous, and what could make a Dragon nervous turned his bowels to water. He had a feeling Gilgafed was wrapped up in this somehow, just like he had a feeling the twisted Sorcerer was involved in Labad's untimely death before the storming of Pestilence.
He had to do some more research. Perhaps the librarian would be able to help. The note should have reached his old friend by now, even with post delivery as haphazard as it was, and Adam still needed to become acquainted with those incredible powers of his.
There was a soft rap! On the door, followed by a Dragon snout pushing through the opening.
“The Eating Place is serving, Wizard. Will you be joining us?”
Milward snapped out of his reverie. “What? Oh, yes. Quite. I'll be right along.”
He followed the trio of adult Dragons along the spacious hallway to the Eating Place.
The trio consisting of Mashglach, Niamh and Harlig, the master instructor in Artisan Studies as well as the most sensitive Dragon to the winds of prophecy, chose a table near the door. As they were settling in, Niamh pointed with a motion of her head to the tables behind Milward.
“I see your young companion has already found a friend among our people.”
“Eh?” Milward turned and saw Adam sitting on the table he shared with Drinaugh. “So, he has, and with the ingenuity of youth, he has discovered a more comfortable way of dining here than levitation.”
“He may be more bendable than you are, Wizard,” Harlig said, after swallowing a large helping of Pfasla.
Milward swelled slightly with indignation. “I assure you, noble Harlig, that I am as limber as I was six centuries ago, and I shall prove it.”
He missed the amused glances the Dragons gave each other while he was climbing onto the table.
“Isn't that young Drinaugh with the Wizard's student?” Mashglach dug into a complicated-looking salad that smelled to Milward of hot spices.
Harlig looked over to the table. “It is, Winglord.”
“How are his studies in Elaboration Mechanics coming along?”
Harlig ruminated a bit while he chewed. Then he swallowed and washed the Pfasla down with a large beaker of a clear green juice. “Could be better, Winglord. I fear the young Dragon's talents lie in another field.”
“Such as?”
“He has an insatiable curiosity about humans and other peoples of this world. He will learn the basics of our law, but beyond that...” Harlig shrugged. “I believe we are seeing the birth of the first Dragon Ambassador since the time of your great gransire.”
Milward looked up from his plate. “Another sign, Harlig?”
Mashglach flicked an imaginary speck off a pale yellow summer squash. “We may see more. Many more, before this time is done.”
Niamh looked up at a sound. “They approach.”
Adam and Drinaugh were finishing up their meal when Adam saw Milward come into the room with the three senior Dragons. He hadn't seen the old Wizard for several weeks since that day they had quarreled in front of th
e Winglord.
He caught Drinaugh's attention with a wave of his hand. “I want to introduce you to someone.” He thought that would be a good excuse to enable him to approach Milward and apologize.
Drinaugh thought the introduction was a wonderful idea. “What fun! You do know his is a name of renown among Dragonkind?”
“No.” Adam thought. “He hadn't known.” Milward had, in fact, gone out of his way to underplay his relationship with the Dragons.
They were all watching as he and Drinaugh made their way to the senior Dragon's table. Adam felt their scrutiny, and a subtle pressure that told him someone was using a shaping.
“Young Drinaugh. How do you find your new experience with humans?” Harlig, ever the teacher, broke the silence.
Drinaugh's usual exuberance was little dimmed by the presence of the three. “Oh, I am learning so much. Did you know...”
He proceeded to relate to Harlig, Niamh and Mashglach all that he and Adam had spoken about over the last few weeks. Adam expected to see the Dragon's eyes glaze over in patient boredom, but they seemed to be genuinely interested in Drinaugh's tale.
“What did I tell you?” Harlig turned to Milward and the other two Dragons. “The next Ambassador.”
Drinaugh began jumping up and down, causing Adam to scuttle out of the way. Drinaugh was small only by Dragon standards.
“Ambassador? Me? Oh marvelous, wonderful and fantastic all at once. I'm to be an Ambassador. Did you hear that, Adam? I'm to be an Amba...”
He turned and looked at the Dragons. “What's an Ambassador?”
* * * *
“...And that's why Drinaugh and I came over to your table.” Adam finished up his apology to Milward.
“Well, that smoothed things over nicely.” The Wizard thought to himself.
“It's nice to hear a young man willing to apologize to his elders.” He beamed a smile at Adam.
“I thought it was only right, since you apologized to me after The Winglord chided you. Besides, they told me how miserable you've been.” Adam kept pace with Milward as they walked back toward that part of Dragonglade where their rooms were to be found.