Practical Dragonry

If It Were Only A Dragon [Chapter 6]

Eriques leaned close to me and whispered. “A five-hundred-year-old elf? Would that be a milf or a gilf by elf standards?”

“I have no idea what you’re saying,” I said, shoving the squire out of my personal space.

He attempted once more to whisper at me. “Maybe they don’t have mothers and grandmothers. How do elves reproduce? Do they just pop out of the ground?”

“That’s dwarves,” Farvin said proudly. “I mean, from what I heard back at home. I’ve never met one, but the mountains near my home contain dwarvish ruins. And they’ve got to come from somewhere.”

“Nemona!” Scender called forward into the hall. “Are you present?”

Down the hall came a wavering voice. “How many times have I said not to call my name when I’m working?”

“Of course, well, you’re always working,” the guide elf shouted back. He turned back to us and continued in a lower tone. “Nemona isn’t like a lot of elves, or humans for that matter. But if it’s a dragon you wish to speak to her about, she’ll perk right up.”

Scender slowed and scanned the alcoves of the space. There didn’t seem to be anyone else there among the messy tables and piles of books, many left open across every inch of open space. There was a sudden sound of tumbling, followed by a low oof and despondent sigh. A head of sleek, dark hair tied back in a braid poked up from behind a pile.

“There you are,” Scender sighed. “We’ve guests, asking for someone of your expertise in particular.”

The woman elf propped herself up on the nearby pile of books. Her face looked far from that of a five-hundred-year-old, except perhaps for the wide, round glasses propped up on her nose.

“Guests? On a day like today?” She whimpered, side-eying the three of us.

“And what is today, Nemona?” Scender asked.

“A day I had to exist,” she sighed and finally attempted eye contact. “My apologies, good sirs. I was just reading.”

Eriques once more took my ear. “I don’t think we’ll get along with her. The magics of these books have clearly driven her mad.”

I chose to ignore my squire and speak to the person who was thrilled to see us. “I heard you were familiar with dragons.”

Her demeanor changed instantly, and she even dared to step out from behind her books. Her eyes studied me like I was a freshly copied volume. “Yes, and what about dragons?”

Scender tried his best elvish way to hide a smirk. “It seems another has appeared in our lands, after all this time. These folk have come from the castle to seek knowledge. I wish you luck on your endeavors, sirs.”

Nemona clapped her hands together before her chest. “I can’t believe it, after all this time! And you have confirmed it with your eyes?”

Farvin lowered his head and nodded. “I have seen it, miss. It came across the mountains and attacked my lands, far in the east.”

“Oooh,” she squealed. “If I could have been there! If you’ve come from the castle, that means… you want me for an ecological study? Do you understand how rare a sighting this is?”

“I’m actually…” I began, wondering how to break the news. “I’m from the Ministry of Arms. Gladius, at your service. I am acting by the King’s orders to slay the beast.”

I must say, I never would have expected that a slap to the face from a five-hundred-year-old would have dealt me such surprise and harm, but that is indeed what happened. My squire, who would have defended my honor to the last (depending on the proximity to payday) didn’t dare to budge. The elf set her sighs on Farvin next, who recoiled into a pile of books behind him.

“And you! I do not know what town from the east you’re from, but the mountains out there are technically the dragon’s land. Humans are an invasive species!”

“I’m terribly sorry, my birthplace was not my choosing!”

Nemona stomped around a few times, glancing all directions away from us before she sucked in a long breath. “Well, it’s not like you could slay it, even.”

“Excuse me?” I said, taken aback.

The elven mage shrugged. “Dragons are near impossible to kill.

“Nuh uh,” Eriques butted in. “The book that Gladius and I looked at said they only had no weakness.”

“Good memory, my squire,” I said, folding my arms across my chest and glaring down at the elf. “I, for example, have no weakness either— parsnips aside— but I certainly could still be killed. Like by a fall from one of the castle walls, or by… being bored to death through overindulgence of books. Any living thing can be killed.”

Nemona twirled one of her dark locks and strutted around her study. “Then die by one of my piles of books, for all I care. All will tell you that dragons can’t be killed by humans hands.”

“But you’ve encountered one before, of course?” I insisted. “What was done to end that one’s reign?”

“Oh, believe me, the men of this kingdom tried… against my wishes and better judgment,” she reminisced. “Ranks of men, burned to a crisp or stomped. The flying in from nowhere and the breathing of fire are one thing. But on top of that, dragons have thick scales that cannot be pierced by any sort of weapon. A tail that can knock over buildings with a single swipe. Talons that could gut even the tallest of horses. Rotting, fetid breath from decades of sleep. They’re likely even as smart as your squire there.”

“That last part may be a bit of an overestimation. But what happened to that dragon back then?”

The elf sighed wistfully and picked at her braid. “It eventually disappeared across the mountains once more. To the unknown lands. I believe it was just a young dragon, trying to seek out a territory of its own. It was quite beautiful if you would believe it. Its form has remained in my dreams ever since. Truly, I have been waiting for the day that a dragon reappears for us.”

“Oh, your dreams come true, then. Though, you’d like such a monstrous beast to eventually fly here to the royal capital?” I questioned her. “I’ve also heard that dragons love shiny things. It might decide to settle upon these pretty towers of the magi like a bird to a nest. It is my duty to take care of this problem before that happens.”

“I would welcome the dragon with open arms if it were to come our way!” She said, her hands spread wide.

“There is a multitude of flammable things and people that would probably want otherwise,” I said. “I don’t know about those folks three hundred years ago, but our Kingdom has learned plenty since then. Surely we can forge a sharp enough blade to run a dragon through. And magics could help us against the fire. And if you stick by our sides and continue to provide your… wisdom, when all is said and done, you may have at the corpse.”

The elf was jerked out of her daydream of dragons and spun around to face me. “I see, I see. The remains. No, that reminds me. Perhaps one of the tales is true, about the warrior who slew a dragon.”

Eriques nudged me. “We are getting somewhere, Glad.”

“You see, we have some artifacts here in our possession, dragon bone carvings,” she said, mostly talking to herself. “Nothing quite like them, they hold magics quite efficiently. I wondered about them, and where they would have come from. Well, a dead dragon, of course. I have thought, is our land dragon-free because any inhabiting our land were killed, even long ago? There is speak of an ancient king of this land who did so as his rise to power. But it was even before my time. If only I could remember his name…”

Several piles of books dustily crumpled and fell as she jerked back. The mage paid the clouds of dust no mind while continuing to dig and mumble to herself. I caught sight of Farvin off in an alcove, leaning to peer out the top part of a mostly obscured window.

“Thinking of home?” I asked him.

“If it is not already burned to the ground. Will this mage really provide us with anything useful?”

“A reminder that the magics will never do what a sword can,” I chuckled.

“I have it!” Nemona’s voice echoed from the chamber. “King Swingaxe.”

I crept back out into the makeshift walkway to find her and hear her story. “And what about him?”

“He’s called the first of the Forgotten Kings,” she wagged a finger astutely.

“Well, I’ve never heard about him,” Eriques huffed.

“That’s likely why they’re called the Forgotten Kings,” I said with a shrug. “What do your books say about him?”

“That… he became the first King of the Kingdom of Reck after saving the people of this land from the threat of a dragon.”

Farvin marched back beside us with haste. “And does it say how?”

“It does not,” Nemona said plainly. “But… his body is apparently buried in a tomb not far from here.”

She held her breath like she was expecting us to celebrate in unison. “Well, if you don’t know what that means, you’re better off. But I’ll just say that there could still be information to be gleaned, even after all these centuries. Mr. Warmaker, it seems like you are pressed on time. Tomorrow morning… when the light hits these towers… meet me at the north gate… alone.”

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