the cross and the cosmos - issue 05

8/12/2019 The Cross and the Cosmos - Issue 05

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incerely, Simon

By Glynda Francis

ransit of GemBy Pete Koziar

A Dragon's Freedom

By Carin Marais


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Greetings, Hail, and Well Met!

May the Lord of the Host bless you in ways both unexpected and everyday, both simple and

complex, both asked for and not. In this special issue, I felt that a special blessing was due. What makes

this issue special is two-fold: 1) this is our first ever inaugural issue, and 2) On this day, my three kids

finally get to come home.

For those of you who do not know, my wife and I are adopting three older children who, at longlast, will get to come home today. We've been working with the system for a little over a month since our

visit, and we've been eagerly anticipating this day since. The only thing that could make this day better

would be for TC2 to finish out its first year as an e-zine...

Which brings around to the first reason listed above! This is our anniversary issue and let me tell

you that myself and the TC2 staff are very excited. Mind you, TC2 staff is a fancy way of saying Frank at

the moment. Speaking of which, see that awesome website that you downloaded this issue from? That's all

Frank! I have so much to be thankful for, right now. Frank, you are, without a doubt, one of them. While I

jokingly refer to Frank as staff, he's more of a partner than anything, and I am thankful for everything he

has done.

All that said, there is still the issue itself, right? There is a lot of awesomeness on your screen right

now. If you downloaded this document, your computer, or other device, is now awesome by default. Why?

Well, wait till you read the stories found within these lovely bytes of data and you shall see. These stories

do not need an introduction, nor, aparently, do the authors need bios... well, they do, but I realized about

two seconds ago that I don't have them, and I'm typing this on the first. So... they don't need them. I'll do a

repost later with bios and links at a later date.

God Bless, and enjoy the issue!

Glyn ShullFounder TC2


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October 1st, 2010 The Cross and the Cosmos

Sincerely, Simon Glynda Francis

Sincerely, SimonWhen Violets Go Bad

by

G.L. Francis

Dr. Martin Barents raised his hand to his throat and looked at the tiny speckles of blood dotting

one fingertip. "Donna," he told his receptionist, "get me an appointment with Dr. Ingram today. I wanthim to check this lesion." No shaving cut, it looked like something between a bug bite and ringworm.

Ridiculous. "Have you heard anything from Simon? For some reason, he's been on my mind lately."

Donna shuddered. "Just thinking about him creeps me out."

"He's harmless. And not a bad-looking kid." Martin didn't add that of all his patients, Simon's

innocent lunacy actually cheered him. How was I to know, he thought, my bills were paid from his shoddy

little trust fund? Or that he was orphaned, homeless, and scarcely old enough to be on his own, just

beyond foster care's age-net?

Donna frowned. "He moves like a marionette with the strings too loose. He looks at things that

aren't there, like the clock goblin that makes our clock run later than the one at the bank."

Martin chuckled. "I never heard that one. The Universal Elbow got bumped when it installed

Simon's brains." He shook his head but had to lean against the doorframe to steady himself. He felt

lightheaded and tired.

Donna reached for the phone receiver. "Any symptoms you want me to mention?"

He shrugged. "Other than this lesion, listless, slightly dizzy. Almost anemic..."

*****

Dont think Im crazy. I know better and probably many shrinks would verify how stable I am. The

ones who have doubts about me went away and never came back. We all suffer mental lapses. Some just

last longer than others. Even heroes have off days; but God is patient with me.

My lapses--note plural--are because of cartoons. Not the monsoon of monkey manure thats on TV

weekday afternoons and Saturday mornings at the department stores. Not even the awesome ones I've

seen on old videos, like the one with the giant genie and his flying camel. Good clean fun. No confusing them with reality, although I never learned to drive because of

them. I was certain cars bent around corners. I was so busy trying to make sure the back end followed the

front end, I wasnt always sure where the front end was going. The drivers ed teacher screamed a lot and

wouldnt give me a license.

Anyway, thats not the cartoons Im talking about. I dream in color and in kaleidoscope and, most

often, in cartoons. One recurring cartoon dream has a little girl playing a willow flute in a field of violets

at night. Shes the only thing in black and white. The violets have petal faces--sort of faces, cartoon faces--

and as the girl dances away, she calls back to me Simon, dont forget to feed my flowers. The second time I

had that dream, I noticed a few of the violets closest to me turned garnet red.

I told the shrink I was seeing at the time about the dream. That was Dr. Martin something orsomething Martin, but I think he might have been a baron before he went to shrink school. He was a kind

of Gestalt shrink, had millions of weird magazines full of psychobabble in the waiting room and a picture

of...I dont know, a gnu or guru, and another poster of one hand clapping which cant really clap, it just

goes whoosh.

He didnt like me saying words in the vulgate and told me to put a penny in a jar every time I

did. He said I should think of other ways of expressing myself. It took about four mayo jars but I got the

hang of it. I probably shouldve scraped the jars out better. When I rolled up my pennies to make dollars,

Lydia the bank teller made nasty faces. Anyway, the pittance of trust fund that was supposed to pay rent

for my special apartment and care for me ran out because of his bills. I couldn't visit him again so I don't

know if he went away.

I struggled with my conscious about whether killing pigeons inside the city limits was considered

poaching. No money, no food. I got tired of eating dandelions, plantain, and chickweed, tired of looking

for wild greens that dogs hadnt claimed. I couldnt find out if there was a statute of limitations on

poaching, either. I didnt know how to fix pigeon cuisine so I had to think of something else.


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I thought maybe a bank robbery might be an idea, you know, for money. I felt bad about it--heroes

shouldnt rob a bank just to buy French fries. God, I know You dont like that but Im very hungry. If I

only rob enough to get one bag of fries, maybe would You feel sorry for me? Banks always smell like

paper and ink, electronic machines and floor polish. I wrote a note and took it to the bank where my trust

used to be. I gave it to Lydia who worked there since before it was built.

I am here to hold. Up. Can I have some pennys in a sack. Doughnt tell anyone or hit the; button in

your drawers. Thnak you. Yours truly, With love, Sincerely, Simon

Lydia is a weresquirrel. She has long gray hair that she wears in a ponytail. She always has a sackor jar of sunflower kernels, cashews, pine nuts, or mixed nuts on the counter beside her. She tries to hide

what she is by wearing rectangle half-glasses; but Ive known her too long to be fooled by such a simple

masquerade.

She read my note and looked at me over her glasses. Simon, Im busy. She hesitated, then

pointed to the front of the lobby. Dont cry, hon. Go get some popcorn. They just made a fresh batch.

She handed me a tissue and a bag of cashews then gave my note back to me. You need to correct your

spelling and punctuation. You know better.

I blew my nose and stuck my tissue, note, and cashews in my pocket. I told her thank you, grabbed

two bags of popcorn, and left. I found stairs a few buildings away and sat down to eat.

Id just finished when a police car pulled up. The cop who rolled down the window was one I

knew, but Id never met the other one. Bruce sighed and rolled his eyes. He does that a lot; I think he has a

neurological problem. I heard him say something to the other cop. They got out of the car and Bruce said

they were taking me in for littering. Or loitering. Im not sure which.

I held out my hands. Bruce sighed again and put handcuffs on me almost like a real criminal and

helped me into the car. New cop cars have fences in the middle like on TV so I knew this was an older

model. Bruce and the other cop wouldnt let me climb up front with them. They wouldnt turn on the siren

for me and wouldnt let me push any of the radio buttons to find a better station even though I told them I

didnt like the talk show they were listening to. Bruce told me to sit back and be quiet. Be quiet. Be.

Quiet. Simon, shuddup!

The first time Bruce took me to the station, he let me visit the art cop for a while. The art cop stuck

my fingers in ink to make paintings but I wasnt used to finger-painting with ink so I was a little messy.The ink smeared on my hands; and when I scratched my nose, my face and nose streaked with black. The

art cop had a lot on him, too, but he didnt look happy. He was having a bad ink day.

A photographer took my picture that day, which was cool because he was trying to get the best one

of me so he snapped two, with letters and numbers. I got to see me sideways.

Bruce motioned me to sit down. The other cop unlocked one of my hands; and after glancing at

Bruce, he clipped it on the arm of the chair. He told me so stay right there. Simon, stay! They went into

the hall outside the room. I heard them talking, bits and pieces about some loony that was making them

very, very tired. Poor guys. Bruce said something about drunk tanks.

That was pretty good. I never realized he had a sense of humor. Imagine! Some huge old Sherman

with clattery treads lurching up to a liquor store. Premium, please. Fill er up.Bruce came back and said they were going to give me a bed for the night and I could leave

tomorrow. I didnt ask where I could make reservations if I decided to stay a while. I think God probably

likes him; but Bruce plays practical jokes and he locked me in a cage with a bunch of snoring people.

Stinky, too. They were so saturated with booze, the smell of their breaths and sweat made me feel

wobbly. Did you know when a sleeping bum slobbers, the saliva follows the facial wrinkles? I know. I

saw it happen. He jumped and yelled when he woke up and noticed I was watching him drool. He was

embarrassed.

I decided I wouldnt stay. Not with a bunch of people among whom five had cabbage and beans

for breakfast. I counted the tones. And certainly not in a place where one person off to the left passes some

high-octane urine without waking up, thank you so much for all that aromatherapy.

I finally fell asleep. And dreamed.

She still held the willow flute, but she leaned over each clump of violets, chatting with the flowers.

More and more were turning that beautiful jewel-red. The girls feet had red stains on them, solid red on

the soles and sides of her feet and spattered on the tops. I thought it looked odd since the rest of her was


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still black and white, but Ive learned to be polite most of the sometimes. I try really hard.

She waved me over to her. I noticed the violets faces all smiled small smiles, petal lips together.

They turned heliotropically to watch me pass as I walked to where she stood. I learned that word in the

library when I was looking up what kinds of plants I could eat without growing my own garden. That was

just before I fell asleep by the botany books. Its open 24 hours. The library, I mean. Anybody can open

books 24 hours.

It mustve been open; Ive slept there overnight before. Sometimes the librarians forget Im there

and act surprised when I wake up, but they dont mind. Theyre nice. They know Im housebroke.She--the cartoon girl, not the librarians--thought I was doing a good job of taking care of the

violets. I cant remember if she said so out loud but she was glad more of them were turning red, so many

that she thought I might need more help feeding them. I think she wanted to turn into a violet, too, so she

could be garnet red instead of black and white. Her dress used to be pretty raggedy but it was beginning to

look a bit like the violets leaves. She seemed happy when I told her so.

She said I should wake up now. I was surprised to see her sitting on the edge of my temporary bed

when I did. She was still black and white, still a cartoon with red feet. No one else noticed how strange

she looked with red feet, so I played it cool. I didnt act like Id just seen a three-nosed, seven-handed

alien digging in my favorite dumpster.

No one else seemed to notice her at all. Everyones attention was on one of the guys in the cage

playing hide-and-seek by covering up with a blanket, even over his face. Or maybe he was trying to

escape. The cops that came in didnt like it. They made two other cops in white uniforms catch the guy,

stuff him in a huge pillowcase, and give him a ride on a cart. I wanted to ride on the cart, too, but they said

No. Simon, go sit down. Get. Off. Sit!

I sat down. What a surly bunch! Mustve had rancid milk in their morning coffee.

The girl sat beside me. She laid a hand on my arm and shook her head, cautioning me to be silent.

Her hand felt weird. Creepy. Not warm the way real flesh feels and not cold the way ghost flesh feels. It

was...dry, papery. Like toilet tissue or a wasp nest.

She got up and skipped out of the cell. The bars passed through her and, for a moment, I couldnt

tell for certain which was solid. Her hand on my arm seemed solid even if not exactly the way most hands

feel; but the bars felt solid, too--cold, unyielding.About then, one of the regular cops came to the cell door and called my name, said I could leave

and please behave myself. He walked me out and didnt ask who the girl was skipping, waving her flute,

passing through doors and walls a few feet ahead of us. He completely ignored her, which I thought was

rude. Bruce wouldve asked.

Once outside, the girl asked if there was a park nearby where we could talk in private. I told her

there was a playground at a school that was closed just a few blocks away, but we would have to climb the

fence. She told me to lead the way.

She acted impatient with me when I stopped a few times along the way to greet the people who

live in the street storm drains. They were grumbling and whispering so I know it must have rained

sometime during the night or early morning. They always grouch loudest then. They must be super-shybecause they hide when I try to look down the drain at them. They never answer me. On the other hand,

they might not speak my language. Ive listened close a few times and I dont think they can even speak

gibberish well. Maybe thats why God told them to hide down there.

At the playground, we walked toward the merry-go-round. She stopped and leaned slightly,

scanning nothing I could see, then straightened, frowning, and examined the air two feet higher. Oh,

there it is. She flashed a sparkling smile that looked like she had comets in her teeth. I wondered if she

ever tried to floss them out. I put it on the wrong shelf.

She reached out. When she closed her fingers, the spine of a book appeared between them, then

the rest of the book a little at a time as she pulled it from the shelf of her invisible bookmobile. This will

help you understand and know what youre supposed to do.

She handed the book to me and I read the title aloud. The Care and Feeding of Viola Odorata

Nosferatumby Renfield. I knew who he was but didnt know hed written any books. Im an expert. Ive

read every vampire, werewolf, and ghost book in the library. You cant be too careful when you dont stay

in a regular house or mansion. Ive heard people say they live in crackerboxes but I dont believe it. You


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cant fit your head in one. The only people who live in crackerboxes are rats and mice. They dont brag

about it, they just chew windows in the walls.

Vampires do not live in crackerboxes. They live in coffins except theyre not alive. They want to

have dirt because theyre very sentimental but this is really bad housekeeping if you ask me. Of course,

thats probably why some of them change into violets, which also begins with v. Maybe they thought

Heres some nice dream loam, well just set down roots, its always night here, no one can find us. Theres

no coffin like the inside of someones head.

I closed my eyes and visualized--that was a word I picked up from a shrink I saw a couple of timesbefore he went away--the field of violets. Now that I thought of it, the red shade they were turning could

be the color of blood rather than gemstones.

I opened the book and glanced at the chapter headings, stuff youd usually find in any care-of-

whatever book. You and Your Violet,Feeding your Violet,Housebreaking Your Violet, Training Your

Violet. The one that caught my attention was at the end of the book. When Violets Go Bad. I flipped

through the pages, noticing at one point a blurb that Viola Odorata Nosferatum(aka VON)was very

protective of the person it decides to inhabit. I reached the last chapter, but there were only two words.

Big Trouble!

I gulped. Ever notice how when you get really nervous your mouth either dries like youve been

chewing desiccant packages or produces so much saliva you feel like youre chug-a-lugging a swimming

pool? It made sense, though. The vampire violets, I mean. Maybe thats why some people just went away.

Im their only means of feeding, but it takes a whole field of them to protect me. I guess most folks have

just one or two dinky violets so a bloody hangnail or hamster in estrus is enough for a meal. I didnt like

the thought of anything indirectly mooching blood. The books final line inspired a touch of dread much

like the onset of flu.

I thought about cutting out a cardboard machine gun and shooting them with rounds of silver

crayons but decided it probably wouldnt work. They were vampire violets, not wereviolets. Now if

theyd been lupines...

I wondered how large my dream field might be. I never thought to take a ruler with me to measure

it. Some people call rulers scales. I dont know exactly where I heard that but I think it was at one of the

car mechanics garages where I sleep sometimes. I remember thinking they were going to measuresomething with fish skins or do-re-mi. I was so disappointed when they got a plain old ruler out of the

toolbox.

Surrounding the perimeter of the field I never measured with crosses wasnt practical. The violets

would just toss seeds or send out runners or whatever they do to propagate. Maybe they suck the sap from

real-live cartoon violets and turn them into vampire violets. Sap suckers. Yeah, thats how they do it.

But then, I remembered the girl was beginning to look a little violetish herself.

I dont know.

I read one time that roses like garlic. Would companion planting work? No, it would have to be

enemy planting. Cartoon garlic for vampire violets. I wasnt sure which garden center carried cartoon

garlic, which is really just a repellent like a top-of-the-line flea collar. Worse than that, I didnt think theviolets would let me go shopping for it. Or a good herbicide. Their invasive tactics were way too sneaky.

Suddenly, God gave me the idea how to battle the vile little things. I almost blurted it out. That

wouldve been a catastrophe because the girl loved the VONs and wanted to become one. I wouldve been

their next meal. I might even be turned into one. So uncomfortable! Thered be more competition for

food. I would have to go barefoot in the winter because roots dangling all over my toes and heels would

get shoe-bound.

I would be a hero for stopping the vampire violets. God might even give me a high five when I get

to see Him. Too cool!

The girl dashed away and scrambled up the ladder of the slide. I told her she could play for a while

and I would be right back. I ran to a place where the school building made a U-shape. Hidden from sight.

Especially her sight. I hoped.

I knew I could never pass through walls the way she could. I found a broken window and climbed

inside. I left six pennies, two gumballs and a plastic T Rex by the broken glass to pay for the damage even

though I didn't do it. I wrote a bad note but Im not a real criminal. God made Lydia give me cashews and


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popcorn so I wouldnt be a real criminal. He helps me out a lot, and He did it again because I found some

classrooms and there they were. Chalkboard erasers.

Theyd seen better days. The wood handles were dirty, the wooly felt mashed and scrunched at the

corners. I shoved some in my pockets and stacked a few on one arm. Then I went back out to the

playground.

The girl was on the jungle gym. I waved to her, letting her know Id returned. Didnt drop my

erasers. Im not a klutz but Im not a juggler either which is a shame. I think it looks so neat and I know I

would have fun and I decided the teeter-totter would work just fine. I made a pillow on it with the cleanesterasers and I stretched out on the plank.

I looked at the sky. The clouds were thick and dark but they didnt cut loose with any more rain.

That should make the storm drain people happy. Some of them were breaking, too. The clouds, not the

storm drain people. Maybe the sun would stop hiding.

Nap time. Dreamtime.

As usual, it was night there. I walked down a short lane toward the field. Even in the dark, I could

see the violets were all red. Before I stepped among them, I picked up two flat rocks, big as suitcases.

Lighter than dandelion fluff. I'm not a weight-lifter so why not light rocks, its my dream. Mine. I really

resented the violets now I knew what they were up to. And that girl, always telling me to feed the little

bloodsuckers. Bossing me around. On my brains R&R time. I didnt even get overtime pay for dreaming

about a job I had for three days. Irked the snot out of me.

I set one of the rocks down among the violets, careful not to squish any; and they all turned to look

at me, smiling their little cartoon smiles with their lips together. Hello, everybody, I greeted them. Their

smiles widened, lips parting. I saw their teeth.

Tiny piranha needles ringed the inside of those smiles.

I wished God would send the giant genie with a flying elephant-size garlic bulb. No such luck, but

it never hurts to wish. Besides, in dreamtime, I might not get just one humongous flying garlic. God might

send a whole squadron of stinking roses. Thats a nickname for garlic.

The violets glanced around, making a rice-paper rustling noise as they turned their petals. They

were looking for their girl.

When violets go bad, they dont think about whos supplying transport to the blood banks. The oneclosest to me spit-hissed a reptilian sound and lunged its petal head, teeth bristling out, at my leg. I

dropped the other rock slab on it.

The field erupted with spit-hissing and the violets moved toward me. Maybe rowing through the

dirt with their roots or something. The cartoon girl appeared, shriek-hissing What are you doing?at me.

She scared me more, she had teeth like the violets now but she still had hands solid enough to grab me. I

just had to wait a little longer for...for... something important. I was so scared I couldnt remember what

was so important but I had to wait for God to do His part of this mission.

Root-like fingers closed around my arm. We dont need you anymore, she hissed.

Suddenly, my face felt warm.

I realized I could see the field, the girl, the violets better. The dark dream-sky lightened. Theviolets stopped moving at me. They were all hiss-shrieking. Smoke whipped around their lashing stems

and writhing leaves.

Warm. Warm in a sunshine spot.

The violets wilted, smoking. In an upward shower of sparks, they spontaneously combusted into

hundreds, maybe thousands of flames. Turned to ash, the whole field of them. The cartoon girl, too. I

lifted the rock I dropped and let the first violet that tried to bite me flash-toast to powder.

Hot diggety! You and me, God, we kick root!

I remembered the chalkboard erasers and pulled a couple from my pocket. No way were these

ashes going to recombine the next time I fell asleep. I picked up every fleck of ash in the field with the

erasers.

The dream faded. Warmth on my real face, not my dream face, and red light shining through my

eyelids woke me up. The sun was bright.

I sat up on the teeter-totter. The black and white cartoon girl was gone. I looked at the erasers. I

picked up one in each hand and studied the white powder of the vampire violets ashes. I slammed the


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erasers together and watched the cloud of ashes rise.

God sent a breeze and caught them. Swirled them. Scattered them.

*****

Martin grinned, enjoying his receptionist's open-mouthed surprise as he strode into the waiting

room. "Back to work, Donna. You can start taking appointments again, but not too many. And I want those

pictures off the walls."

"I-I-I didn't expect--I wasn't sure...," she stammered. She took a breath. "I thought you were dying.

You flat-lined twice. You were so...so pale at the hospital." Her eyes widened. "Your neck's not bleeding--the lesions are gone!"

Martin touched his throat, reassuring himself the strange wounds, wildly erupting after that first

one, were indeed gone. When he looked at his fingers, they were not covered in blood. "Not even scars

left. Happened early yesterday."

"So, did the doctors figure out what was wrong?" Donna prompted.

"Hmmm?" He continued studying his fingers, but... "Oh. No. Not at all. The staff working on me

was completely baffled. Healed spontaneously. No lesions, no blood loss." He smiled, remembering a

phrase Simon used. "It went away."

But he recalled a flicker of...what? A memory? Dream? A scrawny young man cleaning a field of

ashes with chalkboard erasers.

He would find Simon. He could arrange for an assisted care apartment, one where Simon would

have a place to stay and meals but would be free enough to do... whatever it was he did. Martin wasn't

sure how Simon saved his life; but he wanted to aid him. It occurred to him maybe there was more than

just a universal benevolence watching things. Maybe it was God. He would ask Simon.

And maybe become the hero's sensible sidekick.


9/23


Transit of Gem Pete Koziar

Transit of Gem

By Pete Koziar

Late in the evening, all alone in his small shop, Caldriss, Gemcrafter of Augry Street, satexhausted before his holoscreen. The third bath of micro machines had done their work, coalescing the

jelly-like blob of semitransparent goo into a sparking, sharp-edged gem. He watched carefully as it rose

slowly out of the muck.

He said to himself, This will show them! Those stuck-up, stuck-in-the-mud... He paused for a

moment, trying to think of other adjectives, then gave up and continued, They said that I couldn't do it,

that no one outside of their decrepit little circle in Jerusalem could make a noble gem at all, no less like

this.

Caldriss turned to the schematics for the gem, displayed in the air above his desk, and continued,

They're so blasted conventional. Everything has to be done the way it's always been done, in the

workshops where it's always been done. Their way, and their workshops. Well, get ready gentlemen, for abig, fat surprise coming your way!

He sighed, and all the adrenaline that had powered the last three non-stop days of effort began to

drain from his system. There was really nothing more for him to do. The final stages were up to the gem

itselfit needed several hours of quiet to stabilize its molecular circuitry. Pseudo-neurons must

interconnect in the manner he had determined.

Finally, he could spare the time to sleep.

He smiled as he prepared for bed. Tomorrow was going to be quite a day.

As he drifted off, he realized that he had left the small shop unsecured. He took comfort in the fact

that theft was virtually unheard-of; he also believed that his God would safeguard his careful work. It was

moot, anyway; he was simply too tired to move.

#

In the city, all was quiet, as the good citizens performed their various bedtime rituals. Only a few

blocks away from Caldriss's shop, two young men, Forestan and Vallis, huddled together as dearest

friends or most fearful conspirators. Vallis spoke softly, yet rapidly, It is set, then. We leave tomorrow.

Forestan nodded, Not a moment too soon, either. I dread each word he speaks; each new

restriction he places upon me. He will regret those words after I have made my name for myself in theGreat City.

Did you bring it?

Forestan held out a small gold locket, and answered, Yes, here. It is my only memory of my real

mother, but I have nothing else that would fetch enough money to get us started on our way.

Come, let us seek the gemcrafter first; he will surely give us something for it.

#

As they stood in front of the shop, Forestan said, We've taken too long getting here. I don't seeanyone inside.

Vallis replied, Try the door maybe the gemcrafter is still here.


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Forestan turned the knob, pushed slightly, and the door drifted open a few inches.

Vallis said to Forestan, A good omen the gemcrafter must be staying late tonight.

Forestan smiled nervously. Something wasn't right. He had walked by this shop many times much

earlier in the evening, and had often seen the gemcrafter locking up and heading home.

There was no sign of the gemcrafter, Caldriss. Forestan started to cry out for him, but Vallis

suddenly seized his friends leather tunic. They stood for a moment in awestruck silence. They stared at

the gem, Caldris's great work. Even afterward, neither boy could explain precisely what passed througheach of their minds, whether craving for wealth, or desire to possess great beauty. It was, by far, the

biggest gem they had ever seen. It sat by itself, with only a pale spotlight illuminating it, on a small

pedestal on a table behind the counter.

Vallis glanced at Forestan, then at the locket, then back at Forestan. He grinned, then suddenly

grabbed the gem and ran from the shop. Forestan glanced fearfully at the door to the rear of the shop, then

ran out after his friend.

#

The next morning, Caldriss was awakened by a woman's voice calling his name. He opened his

eyes slowly, and realized it was already mid-morning, and that someone else was in the shop. He groaned,

sitting up slowly on the small, uncomfortable cot that had been his bed for too many long nights of work.

He called out, Coming!

Then he paused.

He didn't remember opening up this morning and going back to bed. He walked out slowly, to find

a woman standing in front of the counter, who said, Good morning! I'm here to pick up my necklace. You

said it would be ready today?

After a moment of terror, Caldriss remembered that he had, indeed, found some time to work on

the necklace yesterday. He yawned, then turned to the cabinets behind him, but stopped, troubled by a

nagging feeling that something should have been there that wasn't.

He cried out, My God! The gem! He fell to his knees and began searching the floor, his eyes

wide and his hands shaking.

The woman behind him said, Caldris? Is everything all right?

Caldriss straightened up and bumped his head on the table, then yelled, No! It's not all right! My

gem my gem is missing!

She just stood there staring at him for a minute, while he frantically tried to determine what had

happened. Then he remembered leaving the shop unlocked the night before, and said, I need to call theJustice Officer... come back, come back later and I'll... I'll have your necklace.

She left the shop, and Caldriss sat down on the floor behind the counter, staring up at the table,

hoping that the gem would somehow magically appear. After a few minutes, he slowly reached over and

picked up the phone. He began calmly explaining that his gem was missing, but the Justice Officer just

wasn't understanding. Finally, Caldriss yelled But you dont understand! That gem was my life! I've

poured all that I own into the making of that gem all my money, all my energy for the last year! I can't

start over now; I'm ruined, ruined!

Calm yourself, Caldris. I have faith that our truthfinders shall recover your gem.

I'm having a lot of trouble having faith in anything right now.

#


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It was already late afternoon, and Vallis and Forestan were still in town. After they left the fifth

place they had visited in vain attempts to sell the gem, they stepped into an alley, and Vallis said to

Forestan, The only other place I know is down at the other end of Augury Street.

Forstan replied, I'm tired of arguing with you. It's too dangerous. Let's just give the gem back.

No! I know it's our ticket out. If not... we still have the locket. We can even sell it to the

gemcrafter! He doesn't know we took his gem!

You're an idiot. It's too dangerous.

Would you rather go back to your house? You think it will go any better now?

Forestan glanced nervously about, and Vallis slapped him on the shoulder, saying, Stop that! You

look like you're hiding something!

Forestan rolled his eyes, and they stepped back out onto the street. With a grim glance at Forestan,

Vallis turned the direction of Augury Street.

On the opposite side of the road, a truthfinder suddenly stopped walking and began to carefully

study all the passerbys. When her gaze stopped at Vallis, the boys knew from the expression on his face

that they were discovered. They turned and ran, the truthfinder and her Justice official escorts in hot

pursuit.

In the heat of the chase, they made a left turn instead of a right, and wound up in a dead end

against the Nemik River. After a moment of confusion, Vallis, in his frustration and anger, took the gem

and threw it with all his might towards the river.

It really only made things worse with him later on at his trial.

#

Caldriss sat quietly by the fire with his friend Dak. He mused, I dont know, Dak. I suppose now I

must find a job making industrial gems somewhere. I don't have even enough to pay the rent on the shop

anymore; I've put all of my money into that gem.

Dak answered, Would that be so bad, Cal?

I suppose there are worse jobs. But my dreams, my life have been in creating my art, in things of

great beauty and skill. I find it hard to believe that I would enjoy simply spewing forth design after design

just changing shape, or hardness, or conductivity, or molecular neuron matrices over, and over, and

over again.

But, perhaps, after you have saved enough, there will be another noble gem in your future.

Perhaps. Perhaps also I shall grow feathers and fly away into the forest.But with God, Cal, all things are possible.

Dont speak to me of God! I trusted God to protect my shop. The truthfinders trusted God to find

my gem. Now, here I sit, gem-less, and within a matter of hours, shop-less and money-less also. Has not

God shown Himself to be against me?

Perhaps you speak too soon against God; He seldom moves as quickly or in the direction we

desire.

Perhaps he answered, unconvinced.

#

The next day, the gardeners son was standing with his friend on the grounds of the Ruling House.

They were behind a pile of topsoil that had just been unloaded from a barge that had come upriver. The


12/23



gardeners son had a sling in his hands.

His friend spoke contemptuously, I don't believe it. You don't stand a chance at the Spring

Festival. Lufan can hit the circle from 200 yards. He's won the last two years; there are only three or four

in the whole district who could seriously challenge him.

Well, then. Watch this.

The Gardeners son picked up a muddy stone from the topsoil heap. See that linden tree thats

about 200 yards.

He stood peering with squinted eyes, judging range, angles and wind velocity. He tossed the stone

in the air a time or two to judge its weight, then loaded it into his sling.

The sling whizzed above his head once ... twice ... then the stone whistled through the air towards

the tree. Mid-flight, the horrified boys saw shot curve slightly to the left, towards an open window.

They heard glass breaking somewhere inside, so they turned and ran as fast as they could across

the finely trimmed lawn.

#

Gladdin, the Rulers daughter, fumed as she cleaned the mess the stone had made of her dressing

table. Shards of her hand-carved jade makeup mirror lay everywhere. To add insult to injury, the stone had

landed first in a small pitcher of water sitting on the edge of the table, and sprayed muddy water

everywhere even as the fragments from the exploding vessel had shattered the mirror.

She was not having a good afternoon.

She retrieved the stone from under the table. As she began to drop it in the wastebasket, she felt a

finished edge beneath the now-softened mud. She thoughtfully took it into her bathroom to clean it

carefully.

It was Caldrisss gem.

#

Caldriss had decided to take a look at the employment listings, so he sat by himself in the room at

the back of the shop. The first entry he came across was micro mechanical bearing analyst. He thought

to himself, Great. I'll spend all day fine-tuning little gray spheres. Then, he saw that the experience

required included micro-strain vector simulation. Caldriss didn't even know what that was.

He read down to the next one, which he could probably manage, except that it was all the way on

the other side of the province. The third and final one on the screen was six months old, and probably hadalready gotten filled. He said, This isn't working.

He paced slowly back and forth across the shop. He walked over to his desk, and began to search

for his address book. One of his friends at the University had taken an industrial job. Perhaps there would

be an opening in his firm.

#

Gladdin left her room, carrying the gem.

Her father squinted up from his pile of papers as she burst into his office. She came to an abrupt

halt, then held out her hand, saying, Father! Have you ever seen a gem like this? She quickly explainedhow it made its way into her possession.

He held it up to the small desk lamp, scowling thoughtfully. Hmmmm... quite an unusual stone. It

doesnt look like a natural stone; could it be...


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He suddenly reached out and switched off the lamp. To Gladdins surprise, the stone glowed with a

pale amber light. He tossed it back to her, stating, As I thought looks like someone tried to make a

noble gem and failed. Probably a reject from a gemcrafters shop somewhere; he discarded it, and it found

its way here.

She replied, Noble gems? I have only heard rumors of such things.

Her father replied, Some of the more ostentatious of the governing families possess them; I had

even thought of buying one for your mother while I was yet young and foolish. One that would have donejustice to her beauty would nearly bankrupt us, even now.

He carefully laid his writing stylus down, and continued, Noble gems interact with the thoughts

of those who wear them; they weave illusions out of the very stuff of which dreams are made. The very

best of the gems have personalities, and their makers name them as carefully as any human child. Do you

know of the two Orbs of Witnesses that stand astride the entrance to the Hall of Justice? The images of

the great owls that sit upon them are generated by the orbs themselves.

The reason the owls shriek so when the guilty approach is not because they possess supernatural

knowledge of the crime. The criminals own heart betrays him.

Even so, the orbs are but small examples of the great art I have seen in Jerusalem. But, even greatmasters on occasion produce little amber rocks.

She replied glumly, Well, I still want to have it mounted.

He called after her, Just dont spend too much on it, O.K.?

#

Caldriss's friend had said he could meet with the boss, but only if he got there this afternoon. The

boss was going on vacation tomorrow, and wouldn't be back for several weeks. That would be too late by

far Caldriss would have missed his rent payment by then.

He rushed out of the shop, barely remembering to pull the door shut behind him. He jumped into

his flitter and turned the key, but instead of the gentle rushing of the levitator unit, there was nothing. He

couldn't remember the last time anyone's flitter had died.

He climbed out of the vehicle and stood in silence for a minute. He kicked the flitter once for good

measure, then stormed back inside, slammed the door, and retreated to the room in the back.

He failed to notice that he had left the open for business sign illuminated in front of the shop.

#

Back in her room, Gladdin felt like she had received notice of an unexpected inheritance, only to

discover upon arriving at the reading of the will that the amount hardly paid for the trip.

She busily readied herself for the journey into town. As she plucked the gem from the night-stand,

she mused, I dont care what my father says; there is something about you that I really, really like. She

held it up to the sunlight, admiring it.

Suddenly, the room flared with brilliant crimson light. It was the brightest, deepest red she had

ever seen yet it blinded her not at all. She was so startled that she dropped the gem onto her bed. The

light slowly faded to the three-dimensional image of a heart shimmering in the air above the gem, then

extinguished completely.

She could not be sure, but she thought that the heart had a tiny rip in it.

She cautiously retrieved the gem, saying softly, You have a surprise or two up your sleeve, my

friend. She wondered if her father could figure it out. She then remembered the stack of papers he was


14/23



working on, and he was likely to be in a bad mood if she bothered him about the same gem. Plus,

she wasn't really sure she wanted him to tell her again that the thing was worthless! She wrapped the gem

in the finest of her lace scarves, and hurried out the door.

Perhaps the town gemcrafter could explain what had just happened.

#

Caldriss paced back and forth in the room behind his shop, and paused every few moments to kick

some nearby piece of furniture. Finally, after several minutes, he stopped and leaned against the door

frame, looking out into his shop. He said quietly, I guess it's all over.

He thought about the conversation with Dak last night, and said, It's just you and me, Lord. I'm

out of time. I don't know what to do now. Where do I go? What do I do?

He stepped back and collapsed heavily into his chair, and said, Lord, this has all gone wrong, and

I don't know how to fix it.

He lifted his eyes towards heaven, and said, I give up!

#

As her flitter slowly settled to the ground, Gladdin felt herself possessed of an unexplainable

feeling. It was as if she had been on a long journey, and had just caught sight of her beloved home in the

distance. She shook her head to clear it; this was foolishness, since she had never been in the shop before.

As she entered, she saw a man seated behind the counter, with his head buried in his hands. She

began to back out of the shop, when the man lifted his head, and looked at her strangely. She was trapped,

so she asked, Are you the gemcrafter?

He replied weakly, Yes I suppose I still am.

She continued, I need a setting for a gem, can you help me?

Smiling at this tiny shred of good fortune among the disaster-strewn past week, and thinking that

he would need the money to repair his downed flitter, he agreed, and held out his hand. She opened her

bag, and a bright green and crimson bird flew out, circled the room twice, then disappeared with a quiet

little poof sound. Her bag slipped from her hands, landing on the floor with a quiet thud.

She looked at Caldriss; Caldriss looked back at her, open-mouthed. They both looked at the bag.

Gladdin gently nudged the bag with her foot.

Suddenly, a geyser of flowers spewed forth from the bag, exploding into fragrant fireworks in the

air above.

Gladdin backed away further.

Caldriss reached into the bag, and picked up the gem. As he held it up, brilliant green foliage

engulfed the room around them, climbing the sides of cabinets, spiraling up table legs, exploding

everywhere into brilliant flowers in every shade imaginable. Fanciful birds, brilliantly colored and singing

cheerily, flew around their heads. Gladdin threw out her hand to fend one off, but it went through it. She

realized all of it was just a projection, but unlike anything she had ever seen.

Caldriss began to laugh, a deep, side-splitting laugh, and cried out loudly, Youre back! Youre

back! My masterpiece! My work! Youre alive! Alive! I did it! I did it!

He held the gem high above his head, and said, This is proof! I'll make those 'great gemmasters'

eat their words! I'll show them this no, more than that I'll rub their faces in this!

Gladdin stared at him, open-mouthed. He then sang a simple little song, I did it, I did it, my gem,


15/23

my gem, and danced around the room-forest, brilliant scarlet streamers trailing from the gem.

After his second pass around the room, he turned and really saw Gladdin for the first time. She

was looking at him in horror, and he realized how foolish he must look. The forest glade faded slowly, and

they were left, standing in silence in the dingy little shop. Finally, he looked down at the floor, shook his

head silently, then said softly, Have I indeed learned nothing from this?

He turned to Gladdin and paused, studying her carefully. After a moment, he spoke, no longer

ranting, but sincerely and quietly, as from the very wellsprings of his heart, My lady, it is no wonder thatall that has befallen me should have taken place. I strove to build a monument to my own pride and

conceit; to prostitute this noble gem as an object only for the increase of my own ego. God has instead

taken this, and given it to one whose beauty is truly deserving of such. I have found that I am powerless to

strive against God; you have been given it by Him, so, indeed, the gem should remain yours.

He continued, looking intently into her eyes, I am its makerand it is my right to name this gem.

I call it now Euodius, which in the ancient tongue is an excellent road, for any road that should have

brought you to my door, even but for a moment of meeting, no matter how twisted and difficult, is yet

indeed exceedingly good.

As he held out the gem to her, she instead took his hand and held it, looking deeply into his eyes.

#

Nearly three years later, the Ruler of the Province held a grand ball to celebrate the birth of his

first grandson. The childs mother, Gladdin, was recovered enough to attend, though she only sat quietly

on the dais cradling her son. A cloud of brightly colored finches generated by the gem Euodius flew about

in raucous rejoicing above her, her husband, and her new son. Although her husband, Caldriss,

Gemmaster of Jerusalem, had since crafted greater gems, this particular gem maintained its own special

place in both their hearts.


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A Dragon's Freedom Carin Marais

A Dragons FreedomBy

Carin Marais

Nasjas dark eyes first glanced to the cloudless sky and then to the nest. She would beout for her feed gone to the sea for fish, or if you believed such tales the spray of thewaves. For some believed that was what the dragons lived on the white spray flung into the airfrom the craggy cliffs. He wiped his hands on his light brown uniform that showed him to be aDragon Guardians apprentice. Again he glanced up at the sky nothing.

The eggs looked like oblong pieces of milky quartz washed to smooth perfection by riverwater. Five of them lay in an indentation in the earth, baking in the sun. Around them a circlewide enough for the mother to land in was cleared. The nest itself was not much to look at, littlemore than loosely-packed soil and trampled brush. He glanced around. To the south thesemountains curved and plunged hundreds of feet to form craggy rocks, cliffs and caves sculpted

by the salt water. To the north, beyond the mountains lay the rich lands of the Duml, allies intrade of the Seafolk. To the east there were more mountains and then the Dodevlakte, a desertplain that none from the south dared cross. To the west he could see the city at the harbour farbelow him and, closer to the craggy cliffs, his own village. He swallowed and turned away fromthe gaping jaws of air at his back and he crept forward on all fours like a beast, ever closer tothe nest, hooking his fingers through the bushy plants to pull himself forward. The red duststained his clothes and the finer particles were ingrained in the folds and creases of his handsand bare feet to give them a reddish lustre. He glanced back to the sky. Still empty.

Blood rushed in his ears as he sprang from his crouched position and ran to theindentation of the nest; grabbing the nearest egg. It was heavy, warm and smooth to his touch.

He stowed it away in the bag that crossed over his chest before scampering back down

to the village.

Just one egg. It would yield enough payment to never have to work again, but wentagainst everything he had been taught since his birth and against the vow he had taken justweeks before on his tenth birthday. Only those that knew nothing of these mountains and theSeafolks history would ever dare defile them. Like the men from the north with their harsh wordsand heavy swords. Sometimes a sword can make you do things

He ran as fast as his feet would carry him over the stony ground, clutching the treasure tohis heaving chest, bounding down the steep slopes and scree as only one who grew up in theseparts could. Breath racing, he stumbled into the small dwelling he called home. He slammed thedoor behind him and clutched at his chest to ease the burning of his lungs. There he handed thestrange men from the north the egg.

The white marble dug into Nasjas knee where he knelt, sending a burning pain throughhis thigh and into his hip. An old injury that never quite mended even though he was tended toby the kings own physician, it especially pained him today.

How long have you lived here?Eleven years, My Lord King, since I was ten. He couldnt keep his eyes off the three

dragon eggs that lay before the king of the northern kingdom of Guldargan.And in those eleven years, when did I not treat you as my own flesh and blood? As my

own son? When did you not have the best that the kingdom has to offer?Never, My Lord King, he lied. He shifted his weight slightly and flinched at the pain that

shot up from his knee.Rise, Nasja.


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He placed his weight on his good leg in front of him and rose in one movement, leaningnow on the heavy walking stick he carried everywhere with him.

Now, doesnt that feel better? Marcus, the king of Guldargan, asked and planted a smileon his lips to appear fatherly. Next to him his fool laughed out loud and did a little jig. The guardsdid not dare to move a muscle at his antics or the booming voice of their King.

Yes, My Lord King, I thank you. Nasja spoke, struggling to keep his voice level. Thisman knew him far too well for his liking.

You would not lie to me, Nasja? Your people, I have been told, are of the simple, honest

kind.So I have also heard, My Lord King. He dared not add that, indeed, some of his

subjects were too.Then why do you insist that you only know a few commands in the language?I was but ten, My Lord King, when I was taken. There wasnt time for me to learn all of

the tongue. I had only given my vow as apprentice a few weeks before.Marcus sighed, sat back and steepled his fingers under his chin. I have heard that

suicide for you people is the biggest sin you can commit.One of them, My Lord King.Lying being the other? He narrowed his eyes. Then tell me, Nasja, why have every

other man of schooled age that we have taken from the south killed himself before reaching the

end of the Dodevlakte? How could a ten year old boy with an injured leg survive that deadlydesert plain but grown men succumb?

When it is your time to pass, there is nothing you can do Save me your stories, Nasja.Marcus stood and walked to the trunk holding the three eggs. Nasja dropped to his knees

once more.You know your place, Nasja, Marcus said and lifted one of the eggs from its rich fabric

wrapping. You have served me well. These will be the last dragons I will hatch beforeattempting to take Tarathlon.

Yes, my lord King.Get to your feet.

Nasja did as commanded.You will teach Gile. He will turn sixteen next week. This will be his birthday present.Nasja forced a smile. He will surely like it.He will go with the army to Tarathlon. You will also bind Skhag to him.Nasja felt nauseous. Aye, My Lord King.A shadow passed over his face. You will bind the other nine dragons to the Captains of

the Guard.It will take months to teach them, My Lord King.I did not ask you how long it will take!Aye, My Lord King, Nasja answered, ice water filling his veins.You may go.Nasja bowed deep once more and made his way from the hall. Outside, he was escorted

back to his chamber next to the Dragon Hall.Thirteen dragons. No city would remain standing before so many beasts. And once he

has Tarathlon, he would march on the Tellerassar. He had to speak with Tiriane.

Nasja stared at the shadows dancing on the ceiling above him. Shaped of light yellowstone like the rest of the chamber, it was tiny in comparison to the hall just outside his bedroomdoor. The door itself was of thick wood, barred from the outside. A slit was cut in the door athead height and barred. Every now and then a guards face would peer through the bars justin case he forgot that he was little more than a prisoner in the Great Hall. Outside he could hearthe deep breathing of the dragons, the diuzis-winnan. Here and there the scrape of claw againstmarble spoke of the grandeur of the Dragon Hall. He closed his eyes and tried to drift off, but the

more he tried, the more he saw in his minds eye the day he had been taken by the kings mento come and train the dragons. It had been eleven arduous years.

At the door was a soft knock. Thrice the tap came before the bar was loudly removed andthe door pushed open. Tiriane stood in the doorway, his small frame clothed in simple brown


18/23



working clothes and a yellowed shirt. A thin cloak was wrapped around him to keep outthe night chill. It still bore the insignia of Heimfeie and the Tellerassar.

I brought something for the pain, he said, more to the guards that stood outside the doorthan Nasja.

Thank you, Tiriane, I truly need it this night. Even if it was just to numb his thoughts.Tiriane pushed the door closed and set down the small metal kettle and cloth with which

he held the metal handle.You come as one sent, Nasja said, bending his knee to loosen the joint. I did not think

Marcus would let me have any medicine, the way he was enjoying my pain today.Tiriane smiled faintly. I do not have much time. I waited until Likar left before I came

here. He does not like me handing out our medicine to everyone.Then I thank you even more, Nasja said and glanced towards the door.There was another reason why I wanted to see you. He brushed a hand through his

hair. The king has received three more eggs.So I have heard. He sighed. What other news are there?They are to be bound to Gile and he is to take them to Tarathlon. I am also to bind

Skhag to him and the others to the captains.I thought you wouldnt become like them.What choice did I have in there but to smile and nod?

And if this happens? What If he marches on the Tellerassar?He poured a cup of the pain-killing liquid from the kettle. They wont fight back, not all of

them. You have to go out of your own will, you have to realise that you may turn into a Scria.And you? Do you regret your choice?It was either my men or me. If they broke through it would have meant the death of our

families as well.You said once you dont feel whole anymore.I could soar among the clouds once and now I walk wherever I go. Thats the only

difference. It was the most he had said of it in five years.You lost the Gift a Talent bestowed by the Creator.I gave it up. We all know what could happen. It was my fault that I took it too far. I slew

that man in revenge, that was all there was to it. Hate. I acted like them and I became one ofthem. I could have gone back to the Tellerassar if they didnt catch me. He cleared his throat.Youd better drink that, it tastes worse when its cooled down.

Nasja emptied the cup and pulled a face.When will you start teaching Gile the intricacies of Dragon-taming?You make me sound like a monster.Its not my fault if you feel like one.Nasja slammed the cup down. I didnt choose to be taken! Or my leg nearly lamed so

that I couldnt run! He took a deep breath to try and remain calm as a voice called outside hisdoor. You know that my trying to run nearly cost me my life last time.

You know the tongue, Nasja, more than you tell the king, Tiriane whispered, then liftedhis hand when Nasja started to speak. I have heard you talk to them.

Our people have always talked to them. Back home the dragons arent evil, they arentfilled with hatred I cant always control them here. It's like the Shadow have taken them, havemade them wild.

Then how do you think Gile will handle them? Tiriane glanced back at the door. AMagician has come from the northern mountains to teach Gile their ways.

Nasja sank into the chair. You are absolutely sure of this?I saw the man with my own eyes.What did he wear?Red and black. His arms bore many healed cuts And his face? Did he bear a mark next to his right eye?Tiriane nodded. A black dragon.

Then I cannot wait. I have to free the dragons, free them from this place and the wordsthat bind them.

You know how?Before the men took me, my master taught me the command. That is why all the others


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rather did the sin of committing suicide before they got here he was the only one thatknew it and they killed him after he told me. I am the only one that can do this. I should havedone it years ago.

Tiriane realised what the look of guilt in his friends eyes truly meant. How will youescape?

Nasja remained silent.You will need help.Only to get out of this room.

I will not see Marcus take revenge against the Tellerassar. I am with you."If you are with me, come tomorrow night when I send for you.

It was early morning when he was let out of his chambers and into the enormous DragonHall. The roof soared a few storeys above his head, painted with scenes of the ocean, or at leastwhat these people between the mountains thought the ocean looked like. Against the walls wereset recesses big enough for ten men abreast and two standing on the tallest mans shoulders. Ithad taken a force of thousands years to build, he had been told. Years before he had even beentaken, plans of stealing dragon eggs had been hatched in Guldargan and a place prepared forthe dragons to live once they were hatched and trained. A few of the beasts lifted their heads ashe entered the hall just like any other day. The eldest, Skhag, had already turned a deep red-

brown in colour, the colour of the earth of this middle kingdom, replacing the sapphire colour thedragons living by the sea in the south had. The others colours were all somewhere in between,but that did not mean they were any less fierce.

Nasja had taught them some commands, others he had commanded them not to do,though he had told no one, fearing for his life. Dujan put to death was one he was told toteach, but the Seafolk had vowed never to teach any dragon this command after they had fled tothe southern coast and he had instead taught them bleiei mercy. Yet, today he was to teachGile to do the same. Gile, he knew, would lead the army north and there would be shown nomercy.

He walked to where Skhag sat on his haunches. It had cried again during the night, hecould tell. They could cry more silently than a human ever could and cried for the sea and forfreedom. For being taught something they abhorred. Down south the people still rememberedthere were two types of dragons, the ones fallen to darkness living in the Sundered Lands, andthose living on the coast that had turned their backs on the darkness behind them. And now theywere forced back to darkness.

The huge beast lifted its claw when Nasja reached him, revealing one of the hardeneddragon tears, an indigo coloured stone about the size and shape of a chickens egg. It glowedfrom the inside with the fire of the dragons. He only saw the stone for a moment before thedragon clamped its claw over it once more.

They have taken the rest?Nasja asked, his voice low so the others couldnt hear himspeaking the Tongue without hesitation.

Yes The dragons booming voice sounded in his head. The greed of humans for thestones will never fail and will yet be their undoing."

Nasja sat down near the dragon, his back to the wall and gazing out at the rest of thedomed hall. The other dragons were either stirring from their sleep or watching him with yelloweyes. Waiting.

Gile, his four armed guards at his side, entered the hall. His arms were bound inbandages. Clearly he wasted no time in becoming one of the magicians. He looked around himand Nasja rose, his resolve strengthened. He leaned most of his weight on the thick walkingstick in his left hand, bowing his head to welcome the crown prince.

We will go to the practice grounds for the lessons, My Lord Prince.

The practice grounds, a vast plain behind the castle and dragon hall, consisted of searedearth and grass. Here and there a stump of tree stood grizzled and blackened from the flames ofthe dragons breath. In the sky above them Skhag soared, casting a great shadow on theearth. The guards and servants they passed were most still transfixed with fear at the great


20/23



beast and the prince also looked uncomfortable, glancing up at the sky every few steps.Nasja couldn't keep his eyes off the bandages on the mans arms. The magicians of the

northern mountains were rumoured among the Seafolk to be of the same men of the SunderedLands that bound themselves to the Darkness and where the Seafolk had fled from with a few ofthe dragons that refused to be servants of the Dark. But for this day he had no choice. He spentthe day teaching the prince the correct pronunciation, a few commands, and practicing. Theman learned far too quickly for his liking.

Nasja retired to his chamber when the daylight started fading and started complaining ofa fever, asking for Tiriane to come and see him. Unsuspecting of his plan, one of the guardswent to fetch the Healer. Nasja sat down on the edge of his bed and leaned his forehead againsthis walking stick, completely spent. Words from his childhood ran through his head as he askedfor help.

I bind myself today, the might of the heaven, the splendour of the sun, the light of themoon, the gleam of fire, the glare of lightning, the speed of wind, the depths of oceans, thefirmness of earth, I bind myself today -"

He heard the bar being removed from the door. The Healer stood outside.

Tiriane had brought the guards strong wine, hoping to numb their senses somewhat

before they set their plan in motion.The guards drank some of the wine and soon they were talking with each other, while

there was usually only silence.You must promise me you will leave the hall, Tiriane, Nasja said.The Scria smiled. I will do my best.Nasja took a deep breath and clasped his walking stick with both hands. Then let us

start.Tiriane nodded, then lifted his voice. Are you crazy? You cant go up against the king!We arent cowards! I can do this!And you want me to join you? He saved your life! Or would you rather be living in rags

on the coast?

You arent so holy yourself, Tiriane. The Tellerassar arent as innocent as they makethemselves out to be.

Tiriane flinched, but rather beat upon the door with his fist. Some part of him had toremember this is all for show. He could hear the guards lift the thick bar from the door.

If this place is so bad, why didnt you also take your own life? Why wait 'til now?Maybe I am just a coward.The guards, not as unsteady on their feet as Tiriane had hoped, took up their staffs and

opened the thick door.Whats this? one asked, but Nasja was ready and waiting. He got in the first blow,

ducking and striking the guard across the shins with a crack of his walking stick. The guard fell,cursing, his cloak tangling his legs as he tried to get up. The second nearly tripped over his

colleague, but Tiriane was quick to grab the fallen guard's staff, blocking a blow from the otherguard's staff that would've surely cracked Nasja's skull.The Scria's training took over and he battered the guard, blocking with quick blows of his

staff. Nasja turned to the fallen guard and managed to pin him to the ground before knockinghim unconscious. Tiriane delivered a final blow that knocked the guard's breath from his lungsand sent him gasping to the floor.

Nasja leaned his weight on the heavy staff in his hands and looked at the men at hisfeet. Its now or never.

They left the men in the room, placing the heavy bar in front of it and locking them inside.Now there were only the guards on the outside of the hall, but they were alone inside the hall the fear of the dragons was enough to keep most outside.

They stepped into the hall and Nasja raised the dragons.Tiriane stepped towards the doors, but paused, then turned back to Nasja.Tell me what I can do, he said, bowing his head.Leave now, Tiriane, before they find out


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I will not leave your side. The Tellerassar are my people. I did them wrong once, I will notdo it again.

Nasja bowed the way he had seen the Keepers do, with one hand upon his heart.Brothar liubans, he said. We will see the other side together this night. He took the chainsfrom Skhags nest he had hidden there earlier and bound the doors shut. Nasja looked at thedragons around him, then spoke a command.

Skhag was the first to fly at the roof, trying to break the tiles to get them out.Ga-tara! Ga-tara! Nasja shouted above the din as a thump came at the door, shaking

it in its hinges. Tear! Tear!More of the dragons threw themselves at the roof and soon a hole was made. Nasja and

Tiriane made their way into one of the sleeping chambers of the dragons to escape the fallingdebris. More of the roof caved in and revealed the star-speckled sky above.

Another thump came at the door as the guards tried to break it down. It wouldn't be longbefore they break through.

But still the dragons could not fly from their prison as the words of the tongue still boundthem. They wailed and roared at the sky, scalding the stonework about them and tears fell fromtheir eyes, the fluid hardening to glowing stones on the marble floor.

Skhag turned to Nasja where he hid in the chamber. Fear gripped him, but he said thewords. Ik fra-ltan jus, he said and repeated it, finding his voice. I set you free. The great

dragon bowed to him. Behind him, the door smashed open. Already some of the smallerdragons had escaped through the roof and lit the night with their fiery breaths. But Skhagcalled to the others, fearing for his masters death at the hand of the guards. Ga-standan, hecommanded in a voice that boomed over the grasslands and in Nasja's ears. Stand fast! hecommanded. And stay they did, circling above the hall and keeping the guards at bay. Skhagplaced himself in front of Nasja, ready to attack the guards that stood just outside the brokendoors.

But behind them was a figure as if a shadow in the night. Dressed in crimson and black, amockery of the Eastern Keepers Elders dress, a magician of the north stood, his pale handsthrown to the side and in each one a rod.

Bow before me, dragon, the man said, his pale lips barely parting. He lifted his handsabove his head and revealed arms disfigured by the hundreds of cuts the magicians wore as abadge of pride.

Never. Skhag took a step forward.The magician lifted his hand and fire sprang from his palm. Nasja ducked out of the way,

twisting his bad leg as he did so. The fire just missed him.Un-sls! Skhag hissed, the word taken up by the other dragons. He swiped his great

claw at the man, but the magician ducked and threw a purple flame at Nasja, binding him intoplace.

Bind them! Bind them or Ill slay you this moment.Ik fra-ltan jus! Nasja shouted defiantly before the magician.Skhag pinned the magician to the ground, roaring a guttural yell into the night air.No, Skhag, no! Bleithei. Mercy. Show him mercy.Nasja tried to get up, but it was as if all energy was sapped from him. He cried out as he

fell back down, his bad leg useless.Bi-leithan, he told the beasts, knowing it was his last chance to get them away.The dragons swooped into the air, leaving the Dragon Hall as commanded.But Skhag did not turn to leave at once. In his deep voice he boomed the word tandjan

and the dragon tears burst into flame. The guards had never seen anything like this before andfled outside lest they be burned alive. The dragon went back to his master and picked him up inhis great claws before swooping into the air, leaving the Dragon Hall through the ruined roof.Outside the archers on the bailey shot at him, but none hit their mark. He set the great woodendoors of the keep ablaze with his breath and blocked the exit of the guard while he sped away.

West he headed, to where there were great lakes and rivers and the halls of the Keepersof Haliern where they could find sanctuary. He willed his master to survive and great tearsdropped from his eyes as he flew.


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Soon he could see the rock formations where the Keepers of Haliern lived beyond theborders of Guldargan. He landed before their carved stone doors, placing Nasja on the groundand stepping away from the Keepers guarding the door. One of the gate guards rushed inside togive word to the Wslic and Healers. Skhag bowed and alighted, heading North West.

In the ruins of the Dragon Hall the Magician got up slowly. Gile rushed to his side, helpinghim up. Scria! the Magician called. I know you are still here, you half-breed!

Tiriane crouched with his back to the corner of the dragons sleeping place. He had takenthe bow and arrows of one of the fallen guards and now put an arrow to the string. He had notforeseen Skhag taking Nasja or Nasja setting them free at the first sight of the Magician. Theirwhole plan had gone wrong.

Scria! the Magician called for him again. He rose, aiming in the direction of the voice,waiting for the Magician. Around them the dragon tears was only glowing now, casting what wasleft of the hall in an indigo light. The Magician appeared as a silhouette in the mouth of thecavernous space. His rods were gone now and his clothes in tatters, but he still walked tall.

You will not kill me, the Magician sniggered.Tiriane pulled the bow taut. I have already fallen, do not tempt me.Where have the dragons gone?

Tiriane did not answer.Answer me and I will end your life swiftly. If not... He lifted one hand and Tiriane let

loose an arrow, shearing the skin from his hand. Tiriane swiftly placed another arrow to thestring.

You will not command me in anything, Servant of the Dark!Tell me where the dragons have gone and I will leave you be.Your words are all lies! Go back to your mountains! You will not bind those beasts or me!The Magician stepped forward and Tiriane stepped back, finding the halls wall against

his heel. Forgive me, he breathed and let the arrow loose. But the Magician simply batted thisone aside in a flash of black flame.

You cannot kill me, half-breed.

You are already damned. Tiriane felt a change coming over him. I will resist you nomatter what you do to me. I am Tellerassar first, Scria second. Kill me if you wish, none of mykind will ever bow to you!

A purple light flashed around him and he found his arms pinned behind his back.Bind him, the Magician commanded. Gile stepped forward and did as asked before the

light dimmed. Follow me.They walked in a single file from the ruined hall. They had just cleared the doors when,

with a shout of Tandjan!the hall burst into flame and the great bulk of Skhag came into view.Tiriane fell to the ground next to his captors, feeling the searing heat of the flames on his back.

The dragon landed, his claws digging into the stone.The Magician opened his mouth to speak, but the dragon was faster.You will not bind me, he boomed, silencing the man. You are not and never will be my

master. He stepped forward so that the Magician had to gaze up to see his face.My kind fled our home a thousand years ago to be rid of the Darkness, yet now we find

the same darkness here. He lowered his head and the Magician cowered, unable to speak thecommands he knew. But we also made a vow not to kill any man.

Bleithei! Gile shouted.Skhag laughed. Yes, yes, bleitheiindeed. He turned to the prince. You should be glad

I do not rip your heart out. But, those that beg for mercy will get it. Untie this man, he told theprince. Gile loosed the bonds that held Tiriane.

Tiriane thanked the dragon and realised what the change was that he had felt come overhim. Like Ikairi many years before, he turned into the shape of a great eagle, the Gift of theTellerassar restored to him. He would be a Scriano longer. In the east the night began to lift.

Tiriane soared into the air, heading north east to his home. But it was not to be, for the Magicianhurled an arrow of flame to him, striking his wing. He cried out as he tumbled to the ground,scarcely having gone out of eyesight of the fight.


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Skhag lashed out, striking the man as if he was naught more than a dried twig. TheMagician fell to the ground, dead. Gile started back, saying any word of the tongue that came tohis mind, to try and bind the dragon once more.

Silence! Skhag shouted and lifted his great claw once more. Without his Magician tohelp him and the commands he thought he knew useless, he cowered in front of the beast,begging for mercy.

The dragon lowered its claw, realising after the anger had abated what he had done. Acry drifted into the night air as he lamented the death of his enemy by his hand. How could he

now return to the Southern Sea.Remember this day, prince, he said. On this day we were released from you and your

family forever. Never again will we be your minions to do as you please. From this day on youwill fear me.

He went over to where Tiriane had fallen. Back in the shape of a man, he was hurt, butstill breathing. Skhag picked him up as he did his master before, and carried him to Haliernwhere the Keepers could heal and protect him.

It was nearly two weeks later when Nasja was first able to get up and walk to the bedsideof Tiriane. The Tellerassar had sustained some grievous wounds in his fall, but, like the others of

his kin, could survive much hurt and the Gift he retained.They say all the dragons have gotten away, he told Tiriane. Even Skhag.Tiriane stared at the far wall. This story is far from over, Nasja. He said. Skhag

committed murder. He will find no rest.The Empire will not be able to attack Tarathlon or the Tellerassar without those dragons.

The army will break upon the walls.May that I see the end of this Empire in my days still.They were silent for some time before Tiriane asked: What will you do now?I will return to the coast and my people. There is much to do there and I have the most

information about men of Guldargan. Cirath have told me that some of the Keepers will takeme as far as Treddian. From there a guide will take me south to the Seafolk. And you?

I will return to Heimfeie and the Tellerassar. My people will be very grateful to hear thatthe dragons have been set free. You and any of your kin will ever be welcome in Heimfeie. Mayyour ways be blessed, Nasja.

"And yours."

the cross and the cosmos - issue 05

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