Salal stood anxiously before the doors of the Grand Court, where leaders of the Mage Colleges, the King of Tinen, and most horrifyingly of all, a Whisperer of the Forgotten Chimes. He will have to convince this group of people into funding an expedition to the Cracked Lands, home of the monsters. Salal shivered just thinking about the twisted forms that emerge from that horrid place. Straightening his attire and taking a steadying breath Salal nodded to the attendant waiting by the ornately carved doors. Opening the doors the attendant announced, “Now presenting Salal of Mitigotan, Rune-Mage, Scholar, and Duke Successor”. As Salal entered, he felt the pressure in the gazes of so many people even his father had only met once or twice separately. Quickly looking around there were many standing in attendance he didn’t recognize and a few he did, including his father. The largest of whom was Ratakanatiraka, laying on a thick carpet in an offshoot of the Court that Salal realized was probably built for the dragon specifically. Coming to the appropriate distance he kneeled.

Salal – “Thank you for allowing me this audience and hearing this humble Rune-Mage.”

King of Tinen – “Ha! Humble! You claim to have found the origin of magic itself. The greatest scholars of the past and present have said magic is carried on the wind and made by the Chimes as they pass over all living things. Who are you to say that the greatest mages and warriors of the past are wrong!”

Salal – “I am a Rune-Mage in the era when magic is weakest! I have mastered magic in threads of gold that are so fine they can hear where the chimes start!”

The Whisperer – “How can you say that gold can hear the Chimes?”

Salal – “I wove nets and threads miles long to hear where no living person would ever be able to, and even then, I wouldn’t be able to hear them myself, so runes and gold were what I had to make listen for me.”

Levet, High Mage of Light – “What would you be able to do when you find the origin of magic? Would it be possible to return the Chimes to the ears of all people?”

Salal was stunned by a single word for a moment “when” not if, they had already decided to send an expedition. A weight lifted from his heart as the thought of years of convincing was blown away. With a slight smile Salal told the truth.

“I have no idea what could be possible, just the idea that the origin of magic and the Chimes lies within the heart of the Cracked Lands implies so many things that I could not begin to fathom the possibilities. I believe that there is a possibility of the Chimes returning to the winds.”

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

With the exchange of glances between the powerful figures The King of Tinen spoke.

“An expedition will be planned and chartered, Salal of Mitigotan you will lead this expedition. The brightest of your generation will be your companions. My son, a genius of the sword and magic of might.”

A tall man about Salal’s age stepped forward proudly from the crowd with the physical prowess of a lion exuding from every movement, and the man nodded at Salal who nodded back.

The Whisperer – “A Listener, the youngest in centuries.”

A woman in silk robes embroidered in delicate notes, elegant as a cat and just as unfazed. She bowed slightly to him which he returned.

Levet, High Mage of Light – “My apprentice, Sorosa, Mage of Life and Fire, one of the only bimagic wielders in this era.”

A young woman, even younger than himself, who he pegged as a noble with her beauty and red flaming hair and dress stepped forward and grinned at him. She reminded him of a flaming arrow held at a draw eager to be loosed at anything that might dare to be a target. Salal grinned back. Perhaps a little too slow as he saw her grin gain the hints of a smirk.

King of Tinen – “You will be given supplies and a caravan that will take you to the edge of the Cracked Lands. Ratakanatiraka, I know you have expressed reluctance to such a journey in the past, however this may be important enough for the flight of a Great Wyrm.”

Ratakanatiraka – “I WOULD NOT MAKE THE JOURNEY, THIS WYRM’S HEART-FLAME IS NEARLY EXTINGUISHED”

Salal for the first time saw the white in the Dragon’s eyes, the scales that were chipped and dull, the skin that sagged where there once was great rivers of muscle, and the pull on every breath as if the Dragon was slowly suffocating.

King of Tinen – “I see. Go then Salal greet your companions, for the next month you will be training together before braving the horrors of the Cracked Lands.”

With that the King stood and left the rest of those gathered to mingle and speak within the Court.

As Salal made his way through the crowd toward Ratakanatiraka he was joined by the prince, the crowd moving out of his way like a ship through the sea.

Prince – “Discoverer of the origin of magic. That title will be the greatest boon and your worst nightmare.”

Salal – “Prince Chire, it is good to me-- Prince Chire interrupted, “None of that formal talk, we are going to live or die together. There cannot be any shred of hierarchy when we face the monsters.”

Salal – “I must then… I’m sorry, it will be something to get used to, I need to speak with Ratakanatiraka, I… realized I owe the Wyrm much more than I thought.”

Prince Chire – “Ha! We probably all do! Then I will leave you to it. I’ll gather the others near the Wyrm’s tail.”

As the Prince turned and walked into the crowd his steps and path as sure as the granite he walked on, Salal turned to the Last Great Wyrm. The word Last, ringing in his ears as the gravity of how much magic the Wyrm had given him, the likely decades of life the Great Wyrm had given him. It was well known that Dragon-kin lived as long as their magic could sustain them, their very life fueled by the Life-Flame in their heart.