King Roark eyed the mountain in the distance. A thin ribbon of smoke had been lazily rising from its peak, towards the heavens, for over a week now. His brow pinched in both concern and annoyance.
"When will the patrol return?" he asked Sir Colin, the vice-captain of the royal guard.
"They are due any hour, Your Majesty," Sir Colin replied.
The king grunted, dissatisfied. "Report as soon as they return," he commanded.
"I will, Your Majesty."
"Good. You're dismissed."
Sir Colin stepped outside the office to his post by the door.
King Roark turned his attention to the maps on his desk. Dorandia sat in the center and was the most detailed of the countries shown. Kirva to the north and Liutan?ia to the south were about equally detailed, but Straya-Swon in the west remained more elusive. It was on par with the lands across the sea, far to the east, its mysteries hidden in quicksand and duststorms.
The king placed a heavy finger on Mount Doran and mumbled to himself. "Damned mountain."
Truthfully, he wanted a dragon—badly. If he could make a pact with the dragon from the prophecy, assuming the prophecy was real, then Dorandia would be unstoppable.
His eyes shone with possibilities. Conquests, an invincible army, and not to mention the recognition he would receive as the King who brought the dragons back. He would be known as the Dragon King! He could almost see the words printed in a history book for his descendants to read.
"Father."
King Roark looked up from the desk to see his youngest son standing before him, dressed for the practice yard.
"Andrelandros," he replied, reclining back in his chair. "What brings you here? Usually, you're too busy to talk to me."
"Usually," his son said, his tone clipped, "you don't seem to want my company."
The king simply raised a brow in response.
"Anyway," Andrelandros continued. "What's going on with the mountain? Why haven't you released a statement? The townsfolk are convinced the End is here. We've had our hands full on—."
"Pardon my interruption," Sir Colin said, coming into the office and standing next to Andrelandros. "The patrol has returned."
"You might as well stay and hear this," the king said to his son. "It will most likely pertain to you as well."
Andrelandros scrunched his face, confused, but said nothing.
So he did know when to shut up, the wee bastard. The king suppressed the urge to smile.
Another knight entered the office, smelling of sulphur and horses.
"I came straightaway, Your Majesty," he announced with a bow. "Pardon my unkempt appearance."
Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.
The king nodded and waved his hand for the knight to continue.
"The, uh, the mountain was a, um, unexpected sight, Your Majesty. The eruption may not have a natural cause."
"Explain."
"Well, outside, on the western face, we found a newly-made rough road leading toward an opening in the rock. It looked abandoned, with tools and machinery scattered about. We sent a scout into the opening, and he reported there were bodies inside he could see, but not reach, due to a collapse at the end of the tunnel. We were able to use the machinery on hand to open it up again. Indeed, there were over a dozen bodies...underneath and around the skeleton of a giant dragon." The knight paused and swallowed, stepping from foot to foot. "The uh, the bodies seem to be from Liutan?ia. And…most of them were burnt and half-eaten." He swallowed again. "There was a small crater inside the ribcage of the dragon, with pieces of perfectly curved stone scattered all around, spreading outward from the center—"
"An egg?" the king interrupted.
The knight nodded. "That is what we thought. But…there was no sign of a smaller dragon."
"Damnation!" the king shouted.
The poor knight and Sir Colin flinched, but Andrelandros did not. He was used to his father's moodswings and acerbic tongue, which he tended to keep hidden from the public eye.
"Liutan?ian, hm?" King Roark continued as if nothing had happened. "What the hell are they doing sniffing around Mount Doran?"
The king steepled his fingers and rubbed his fingertips together as he thought. Clearly, this was a violation of the treaty they had in place with Liutan?ia. It seemed pretty plausible that they were after the dragon egg…but how did they know about it to begin with?
"We were able to recover some of their journals and such," the knight offered, motioning for his subordinate to deliver the small crate of charred books and papers. "They are in coded Liutan?ian, of course, so we thought it best to leave them to the experts."
King Roark knew a thing or two about some of the Liutan?ian codes. Cracking open a blackened book, he was able to make out a few words, enough to note they were, indeed, worth translating.
"Send them to the codemasters," he ordered, and the subordinate bowed and left. "Andrelandros—you stay. You other two—leave us." He waved them away.
When they were alone, Andrelandros went to the sideboard and poured himself a cup of wine.
"Well?" he asked his father.
"What do you think?" King Roark replied. Then he sighed deeply and pinched the bridge of his nose. "The Liutan?ians asked for war the moment they stepped on our soil without permission."
Andrelandros paused, mid-sip. "War?"
"Yes, war!" his father shouted back. "If we do nothing, they'll think that they can do whatever they want because there are no consequences for violating the treaty. We must show them that they made a grave mistake sneaking onto Dorandian soil like rats."
"I see," Andrelandros replied. "War it is, then."
?????
~Florence
There are only a few days left until Listar Eve…and I feel so drained! Between daily classes (with hefty daily assignments), the physical toll of using my powers during one of my classes—plus teleporting everywhere, and the anxiety I feel about opening Midnight Garden Cafe, it's a wonder I haven't fainted yet.
Not that I am prone to it to begin with, but I have felt somewhat lightheaded as of late. I know I'm pushing myself too hard. But the moment I slow down, the moment there's silence, my treacherous thoughts begin to whisper in the back of my mind. And, lately, those whispers seem to wander toward Raius!
As if it wasn't enough that I dream of him every night, now he plagues my waking thoughts, as well!
I am sure he'd be thrilled to learn I've been thinking about him. Well, my idea of him, anyway. I still have no idea what he actually looks like. If he's a dragon, like Aurora, or…something else.
That voice, whether it's his or mine, is something I hear all the time now, repeating the same word, over and over—
Soon.
Soon.
?????
?? yay)...but as you get older, it's really just another day. Another day that marks another year around the sun! Speaking of birthdays, Florence's birthday is also coming up, according to the Dorandian calendar! What are all the months in the Dorandian calendar, anyway? I'm so glad you asked! Here they are, along with what each month celebrates/means:
- Listar - Peace & Music
- Edall - Wisdom & Knowledge
- Florence was born on the cusp of Edall and Memeyr, which is why she is said to have all four traits
- Memeyr - Justice & Love
- Brehena - Spring & Birth
- Eddis - Health & Children
- Gustus - Luck & Trade
- Uhtar - Summer & Pleasure
- Ovren - Victory & Fertility
- Tavian - Home & Duty
- Adlos - Autumn & Patience
- Osus - Life & Death
- Lissus - Pennance & Mercy
- Hadros - Winter & Sleep
Each month has exactly twenty-eight days, except Hadros, which has thirteen days.
And now you know! See you next week ?? Lots of Love!
-xo??kb