Olga McArrow

Hot Obsidian


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and dreamed of visiting them one day, but for a long while, the dreams just remained dreams.

      But one day, following the calling of his heart, Ziga left Orion in charge of his fleet and sailed to the uncharted sea alone. He returned a different man. There were wonders in Ocean Fayera he had never known existed: islands made of pure ice and inhabited by wingless birds; giant sea monsters as big as ten Lafargs combined but as tame as little lambs; and there was a large continent no one had ever visited before. It was a land of wild, unstable magic and emerald dragons.

      Unlike Kuldaganian pocket dragonlighters and nomadic yellow dragons – mindless monsters with morbid curiosity and voracious appetite – emerald dragons were intelligent. They had a civilization and a language of their own. They knew love and friendship. They were a lot like humans, actually, only they lived much longer: up to two thousand years.

      Ziga had never learned their language but the dragons, being far smarter than he, had learned his. They didn’t stop there: next, they learned to take human form.

      The world of humans interested them greatly. After all, dragons, intelligent and mindless alike, are naturally very curious. But, while interesting, our world seemed too dangerous and frightening for them. Back then, not a single dragon had followed Ziga back to the charted Omnis.

      Back in the known sea, Ziga returned to his old trade. He told everyone about the dragons, he sang of them, he wrote about them but no one seemed to take him seriously. His tales spawned fairytales, his ballads inspired funny verses, his writings got ridiculed and criticized for no one would believe a pirate’s word. Not a single human had followed Ziga’s call to visit the dragon continent. After a while, disappointed, Ziga began forgetting it too, falling more and more into his old ways.

      But everything changed after he met a very special girl – Meralli. It was a girl given to Orion by the sea itself; she had no memories of her past; she spoke in poems; she seemed alien to this world… like a dragon that had taken human form and forgotten about that. Ziga fell in love with Meralli the moment he saw her. But upon finding the love of his life, he lost his best friend: he and Orion had a fight over Meralli. In the end, Ziga won the girl’s heart and Orion made peace with him but things could no longer be the same between the old friends.

      Next time Ziga heard the call of Ocean Fayera again, he answered it. He left everything to Orion – his fleet, his riches, and his blessing – and sailed to the emerald continent on a little dimaran – Jovibarba (that’s where our surname comes from!). He took no one with him but his wife Meralli and their little daughter.

      Ziga lived and died among the dragons but some of his descendants chose a different path.

      A part of our family moved back to Omnis about a thousand years ago. In the beginning, there was so much dragon blood in the descendants of Ziga and Meralli that they could take dragon form at will and lived for centuries. But as they mixed with humans, their dragon traits faded over time.

      Now look at me. The only dragon trait I have is curiosity. Well, maybe audacity is too.

      ***

      The story cheered the audience up. That and the cosily warm Fiat-lux under the ceiling helped the young Lifekeepers shake off the uneasy feeling the night was giving them.

      “So, when dragons take human form,” asked Milian, “where does the excess mass go?”

      “Ah, a scientist to the bone…” Pai gave him a condescending smile. “They’re natural mages, all of them. And mages have their ways of bending the laws of physics a little bit.”

      “Natural mages… And no need for stabilizers. Cool,” said Milian thoughtfully. “Ah, why can’t we humans be like that?”

      “We can’t do a lot of things,” Bala smiled. “Just look at us, compared to animals: no fur, no claws; blunt teeth, poor eyes, poor sense of smell… My master says that the lack of something always gets compensated with another thing: a weak person can compensate for their weakness with intelligence or cunning, for example. This is exactly what we as a species do. If we could naturally stabilize magic, we may not have developed civilization, we would have been just… animals.”

      “You’re quoting the enemy now,” Orion made a sly remark.

      “True,” nodded Milian. “This goes back to Helga before she became Vlada the Warrior. But, to be fair, the book where I saw that quote had been written a very long time before Erhaben.”

      “I always thought that it’s not wise to hate a creation only because you hate its creator,” agreed Bala. “Helga spoke the truth…”

      “You’re treading on a very thin ice here!” shouted Irin. He had been trying to keep quiet but his patience had finally run out. “Have you forgotten everything that the Order has taught you? You,” he pointed at Orion, “the one who is so proud of his ancestor, a bloody pirate! Maybe you’re proud of your name as well?”

      “I am,” was Jovib’s calm reply.

      “It’s the name of the worldholders’ minion!” Irion growled.

      “For a Lifekeeper, you’re too fast to judge, Irin,” Orion shook his head. He remained unruffled under the younger boy’s angry gaze; there was even a tone of pity in his voice. “The world is not black and white, it’s not even grey. There’s always a No Man’s Land between good and evil where any anomaly can happen.”

      “Go back to sleep. Everyone.” That was Juel’s voice. Low, cold, commanding voice. “I’ll set a lookout so we all can feel safe. Irin, you will take the first watch. Orion will change you in two hours. Then Lainuver. And kill the light lest it blinds the lookouts to the dark.”

      The team followed Juel’s orders. Despite all the fears, the rest of the night was calm, calm and boring.

      Chapter 4. Transvolo from Firaska

      “Teach me

      Lots of all sorts!

      Teach me

      New facts, new thoughts!”

      I dreamt,

      I questioned,

      But I was taught by Fate’s contempt -

      Taught my lesson.

      I didn’t know I’d see

      the day’s end

      When malice and night on me

      descend.

      But the thrawn mind

      learns night-lore too;

      A new teacher I’ll find

      When I’m new.

      Milian Raven, from the “Thorn poem”

      Aven Jay Zarbot heard two young voices crying out her name. Again. And just when she was finally going to have her lunch! Those students! Those stupid, stupid kids… Aven took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I’m a Crimson Guardian on duty, an experienced mage, and a responsible adult,” she repeated her daily mantra in her mind. “I’m going to be super patient with those kids even though all I want is to strangle them both. Let’s consider it a punishment for me being a stupid kid myself once…”

      “Master Zarbooot!” the young mages cried again.

      Aven stifled a curse.

      “What!” she roared, the soothing mantra instantly forgotten.

      “Take a look at the road! There are visitors. What do we do with them?”

      Aven sadly glanced at a sweet diadem bun she had been hoping to eat in peace and put it into her pocket, with much regret.

      “What do we do with them! Hah! Oh, why can’t these youngsters just work it out for themselves for a while? I can’t babysit them all day!” she grumbled as she was making her way upstairs