Chapter 41:
Stryg and Plum arrived at the library and headed towards their usual study spot, a table situated in a corner of the 2nd floor. Kithina was already there, several papers sprawled around her. Callum was sitting backwards, a leg on each side of the chair, his chest resting on the back rest. His maid had pulled up his shirt and was applying ointment to his back.
“You’re late,” Kithina said without looking up from her notes.
“Plum’s fault,” Stryg said.
“Not cool,” Plum pouted. “Callum what happened to you?”
“Oh, hey guys, not much. Just lost a sparring match is all. I already got treatment from the white magi in the infirmary. This is just my maid being overly cautious,” Callum winced as his maid began bandaging him up.
“Stryg attacked him while he was downed. The cheater,” Kithina said.
“You did what!?” Plum looked at Stryg in surprise.
“No one said I couldn’t. In a real fight you’re supposed to attack them while they are downed and at their most vulnerable,” Stryg crossed his arms.
“That was a spar not a fight,” Kithina muttered.
“Did you bring the book?” Callum asked, hoping to change the topic.
“It wasn’t easy to get. I had to do a bunch of chores for the head librarian before she gave me a chance to access one of the rare archives and it was only for like 5 minutes! The stingy hag,” Plum complained.
“But you have it then?” Kithina asked eagerly.
“Yup, right here,” Plum pulled out an old leather-bound book from her satchel. “I can’t actually lend it to you guys since it's from the rare archives. Only reason I was able to take it out is because I’m a librarian’s assistant. But, I already translated most of it, so I can pretty much sum up the important bits.”
“That’s a start.” Kithina held an ink pen at the ready.
Kithina’s father was a scribe, and she had learned a lot from him. She had the best penmanship of the group and was unanimously voted to write the essay portion of the project.
Kithina had nominated Callum to be the speaker for the project, thanks to his charismatic nature. Stryg had agreed, since he didn’t want to talk in front of the whole class. That left the practical aspect of the project in Stryg’s hands. Though, none of them really knew what their roles meant yet, due to a lack of knowledge of dragons.
Plum cleared her throat, “So, the book is about the son of an ebon lord over four centuries ago. He was a scholar with a rare penchant for adventure. He dedicated most of his life to the pursuit of the study of dragons. He got far, or rather too close. They say a dragon killed him in one of his outings. His apprentice compiled her master’s notes and made this book.”
“Sounds pretty accurate. Dragons kill people, what’s new?” Kithina said.
“A lot actually,” Plum began. “You guys know how everyone at this table is a different species, but we are all still chromatic species.”
“It’s why we’re chromatic magi and not elemental magi, yes?” Stryg confirmed.
“Exactly. Well, it turns out so are dragons. In fact, if the book is to be believed, they are the first of the chromatic species,” Plum said.
“So, there exist chromatic mage dragons then?” Callum asked.
Plum raised her index finger. “See, that’s when things start getting weird. Most members of chromatic species can’t innately absorb mana. But, all dragons can, which would technically make them all mageborn. And this is where it gets even weirder; unlike elemental mana, all forms of chromatic mana require a spell in order to be used. It requires practice to use chromatic magic, it doesn’t come naturally, like say, a baby drake being able to breathe fire.”
“But can’t dragons breathe fire too?” Callum asked.
“Exactly, which would lend credence to dragons being natural magic users and magi. That or dragons are chromatic and elemental magi. Either way it means they have both chromatic and elemental mana, something that is unheard of within any species,” Plum said.
“Is that even possible?” Stryg asked.
Plum shook her head, “Normally, it shouldn’t be. I have read of a few exceptions, hybrids born from a union of a chromatic and an elemental species. One in particular was about a drow-siren hybrid. She was a chromatic blue mage and a natural magic user, capable of using the enchanting voice of the sirens.”
Plum continued, “But, chromatic-elemental hybrids are supposed to be incredibly rare. The rate of pregnancy is very low, and miscarriages are very high, which is saying something, since all hybrid pregnancies are quite rare. Even if that wasn’t the case, dragons aren’t hybrids, they’re an entire species. Honestly, I don’t know what to make of it.”
“It’s far more than what we’ve learned so far. I can use this. Maybe pose the essay as a theory of the magical nature of dragons?” Kithina began jotting down her ideas.
“Kithina’s right. Thank you Plum. We would never have gotten this far without you. We probably would have still been stuck with those fairy tale books we found,” Callum smiled.
Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.
Kithina groaned, “Tell me about it. What would a powerful dragon ever want with some random princess as tribute? In fact, couldn’t a dragon just burn down the castle and then take the princess?”
Kithina enjoyed fairy tales, but those just didn’t make any sense.
“I’ve been meaning to ask, what is a princess anyway?” Stryg asked.
“It’s a form of royalty. The daughter of a monarch,” Callum explained.
“I don’t understand anything of what you said,” Stryg frowned.
“Hm, okay,” Callum looked up in thought. “I guess I’ll have to start from the beginning. A monarchy is a system where a single person rules an entire land, that ruler is known as a monarch. Royalty are the family members of the monarch, or the monarch themselves. One kind of monarchy is called the feudal system, which some of the other Realms practice. The monarch in a feudal system is called a king and his daughter a princess.”
“I’ve never heard of a king before either,” Stryg sighed.
He was busy studying magic, but he really needed to make time to read more about the Realm’s culture and history.
“That’s because the Ebon Realm doesn’t have any,” Callum said. “We’re an oligarchy instead. It’s when a group of people rule the land together. In this case, the city councils rule the great cities, who in turn rule most of the land within the Realm.”
“Actually, we took the term of lords from the feudal system. Back before the Schism, the Ebon Realm was ruled by a small group of incredibly powerful magi. When they visited other Realms, they were oftentimes called lords, a title referring to the ruler of a land. The name stuck and they came to be known as the ebon lords, rulers of the Ebon Realm. Though the term ‘lord’ lost its meaning through the years, it still signifies a position of great power and influence within the Ebon Realm,” Callum explained.
“So, like the warlords of the Dusk Valley?” Stryg asked.
Callum frowned, “Yes, technically that is correct. They are men and women who have gathered large armies under them, hence the ‘war’ part. But, there are other warlords who aren’t our enemies. We have several in Hollow Shade. And they also have large groups of soldiers under their command. In fact, they tend to be incredibly skilled warriors themselves. My father is a warlord, one of the greatest.”
“Yeah, but isn’t he also a city lord, since he is on the city council? Which, I think, outclasses the warlord title,” Kithina voiced.
“Wait, you can be more than one kind of lord?” Stryg asked.
“Yes, to both of you,” Callum nodded. “My father is a city lord, but I prefer his warlord title more. The city council positions are passed down to the leaders of the great houses, generation after generation. My father was no different, but he earned his warlord title on his own through battle.”
“He seems like a powerful warrior,” Stryg nodded in approval.
“He is. I wish to be a lord like him some day,” Callum said. “Though, not necessarily a war lord. There are a few different options, mage lord, warlord, merchant lord, city lord, and ebon lord. Of course, there are no more ebon lords. But, the rest of the titles can still be obtained, so long as I acquire the proper form of power. My father is a very powerful mage, but he never obtained the mage lord title. I hope to surpass him in this, perhaps.”
“That’s a nice goal to strive for,” Kithina smiled.
“Believe me, I have so much more I wish to accomplish,” Callum scratched his cheek.
“I’m done applying the ointment,” Callum’s maid said, pulling his shirt back down.
“Thank you,” Callum replied.
“Plum, is there anything else you can tell us about the dragons?” Kithina asked.
“There was some mention of a dragon’s scales being fireproof, but not much more than that. Most of the other notes in the book are just ramblings. But, I can try to see what I can find. Figures, the one time a scholar gets to see a dragon up close, it kills him,” Plum sighed.
“Well, there is one other firsthand account, if our young residential scholar is to be believed,” Callum looked over at Stryg.
The goblin had avoided the dragon sighting topic ever since he mentioned it. Whenever Callum had brought it up, Stryg had refused to speak, even so far as getting angry. Eventually, Callum had left it alone, but his curiosity couldn’t help it, and this seemed like a good time to segue into the conversation.
“Stryg hasn’t seen a dragon before,” Plum laughed.
Stryg stayed silent.
Plum did a double take, “Wait, you haven’t right, Stryg? Why are you looking away from me? Oi! Look at me!”
“...It was a long time ago,” Stryg muttered. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”
“Oh, come on. You can’t just say you’ve seen a dragon and not tell us,” Plum poked Stryg’s cheek.
He snapped at her, Plum pulled her finger away before he could bite it.
She laughed, “Come on, please?”
“...You owe me,” Stryg grumbled.
“Deal,” Plum grinned.
Callum had made the right decision, bringing up the topic with Plum around. She was the only one Stryg seemed to really open up to. Callum was genuinely curious about Stryg's dragon claims. Normally, he’d simply dismiss a dragon sighting, but Stryg had lived deep in Vulture Woods, it was possible.
“It’s not a great story,” Stryg mumbled.
But, Plum’s eyes were wide with wonder, eager to hear Stryg’s very next words. Even Kithina had put her pen down to listen.
Stryg sighed, “Where to begin?”
---
Stryg was ten years old, yet he was much smaller than the other goblin children in the village. He had trouble keeping up with them in simple exercises, let alone training.
One day, he decided to ask the hunters for help. If anyone knew how to become strong it was them. Of course, they were busy and didn’t have time to train a weak child. He insisted that simply watching them during their training exercises would be enough. They refused and left for a hunt.
But, Stryg was tenacious, if a bit foolish. That morning when the hunters left, he sneaked out of the village and followed them from afar. Unfortunately, his tracking skills were horrible and he lost the group after only a few minutes. In fact, he lost his way back home too. He was irrevocably lost in the most dangerous forest in all the Ebon Realm.
Stryg began to panic, afraid of the creatures that lurked behind every tree. The growls of animals called out all around him. A twig snapped from behind. He dashed off into the distance, with all the speed his little feet could carry him. He pushed through the small bushes nearby, scraping his skin. Howls echoed between the woods. His foot caught a tree root. He fell to the floor and tumbled down a steep hill. All he could hear, taste, smell, and feel was pain as his body was battered with rocks.
When Stryg finally came to, he was at the foot of the hill, in front of a pond. His body ached all over, his arms and legs were covered in bloody scrapes. He tried wobbling to his feet. A sharp pain pierced his foot. He crashed to the floor in another wave of agony. He had sprained his ankle and couldn’t move. He was bleeding, lost, and alone. He was going to die here. His eyes filled with tears at his dismal ending. The goblin child wailed in anguish, his cries reverberating through the canopy.
The still pond shuddered and the waters parted as a cluster of amethyst scales emerged from below. Stryg’s cries turned into high pitch screams at the sight of the draconic face.