Dragonseye, Part 2

Sorry more didn’t arrive. Here is the rest (oh, and by the way, I know Tom is a really weak charecter, but he comes up later in the plot of Steel’s life so I had to put him in. Then he didn’t do enough, just sorta hung around being annoying, so I made him save Steel and Zyviva. Belive me, there was no other way. I don’t like him either.):

“This sounds like a bad movie,” muttered Steel under her breath, but Ual heard her, and smiled widely. “We dragons have a habit of talking in ways that often seem odd to humans. Just sit down.”

Sighing, Steel sat cross-legged on the floor. Ual paused for a moment, making sure Steel had no further objections, and then began to speak:

“As you probably know as a Galathin, we dragons are the only non-human people to establish a nation for ourselves, and we are, in fact, the oldest and wisest people on the Map. Unlike humans, almost every dragon is noble and good hearted, although I am sorry to say that this was not always true. There are some records, in the past, of a certain species (now thankfully extinct) of shape-shifting dragons, who would often change their forms to that of an intelligent creature, marry, have a child, and then abandon their mate and young offspring. The resulting half-breeds had almost no distinguishing draconic characteristics, but they and their descendants always had some small quirk or talent that, to an educated eye, would make known their ancestry.”

“How could they just abandon their children and mates like that? That’s awful!” exclaimed Steel.

“To be sure! But as I have said, the practice, and, indeed, the ability to shape-shift have long since died out. Exclamations do not fix anything.

“Anyway, now we shall veer from the story slightly. As is evident by my present appearance, a dragon sheds light in darkness. This light is visible only to other dragons and a select few, such as wood-elves, who are used as servants and workers for us.”

“And me. I can see the light, too—but I’m not an elf. Hey, wait a minute—is seeing in darkness a draconic ability?” Steel found herself suspecting where this story was leading.

“No. Just listen. And stop interrupting!

“A dragon’s night-sight is not an ability inherited genetically, but comes instead from a mineral we consume, called Ehual, which generates a glow that can be seen only by its host. If eaten in great amounts, it self-regenerates and makes the glow permanent—and strong enough to show through even solid stone, or, as is the case, dragon scales. This mineral does not work for everyone. But even one who has not eaten the mineral can detect it in all times, if they have the inborn ability.”

“Ah. I begin to understand.”

“No more talking, human!

“We have reason to believe that, somewhere in your ancestry, there is a dragon. And we think that your ability to detect Ehual indicates that you will be able to eat it, thereby gaining a permanent light source. But even though Ehual is a useful tool, it is also a deadly poison. Only if the ability to eat it is passed down—and it is not in all cases, does the consumer survive. We are not sure the ability was passed to you. Usually a half-breed must have unusual powers of concentration to survive Ehual, even if the ability to is in them, so eating it is a risky business.”

Ual stopped. She looked at Steel expectantly.

“So you’re telling me that I’m part dragon, and so can see in the dark? With all the ado Master Hai made, with the letter and all, you’d have thought it would be a bigger thing than that.”

“You don’t seem very surprised. What if I told you that Master Hai told me to give you your Ordeal today in precisely seventeen minutes?”

“What!?”

Ual growled out what was obviously meant to be a chuckle. “Your master thinks highly of you. He believes that you are ready now. I must say, from what I’ve seen of you I don’t share his confidence, but I have your name ready if, by some quirk of nature, you succeed.”

“But—Madame Ambassador—I’m only fourteen! I’m not supposed to take my Ordeal for another year at least!”

“Your young friend told Greengold how you sacrificed yourself to save her. He believes—although I am by no means certain—that now is the time for you to either go through with the Ordeal and pass, thereby becoming a Shiran, attempt the Ordeal and die, thereby proving yourself a brave fool, or walk away, thereby becoming marking yourself a coward. I have received instructions from your master as to what the ordeal will be. So please choose before we both die of old age.”

“I was sort of hoping Master Hai would be here to see my Ordeal,” said Steel. “But as he can’t…”

“Present and accounted for, Shi’ara,” said a familiar voice. Master Hai stepped out from a hidden recess behind a curtain, accompanied by Master Hannah, Zyviva, and Tom. “Hello, student.”

“Master Hai!” gasped Steel in surprise. She hadn’t heard anything behind the curtain. “How did you get here? And what are they…”

“Your two friends have informed me they wish to see your Ordeal,” her venerable old master said solemnly. “And Hannah Redwing is, of, course, your teacher.”

Zyviva stepped forward. “You didn’t think we’d really miss this, do you, Steel? Just remember, we’ll be watching you—and cheering you on!”

Steel attempted to gather together her thoughts and make some sense of them. In the space of five minutes, she had been told so many bizarre things that she didn’t know which to act upon. With difficulty, she managed to put her brain cells in some semblance of order.

“Madame Ambassador? How am I supposed to take my Ordeal here? You don’t have a special chamber for it, do you?”

“We have something that was formerly used, in the Monarchy days, as a dungeon.”

“I’m taking my ordeal in a dungeon?” Said Steel, aghast. That hadn’t been done for 200 years.

“You heard me, human. Are you ready to go to it now, or would you like more time to meditate? All of your adversaries are real. Personally, I don’t give much for your chances even if you meditate for a year, but it’s customary to give you some time anyway.”

She ignored the dragon’s gruffness. “I can meditate on the way there.”

Suddenly Steel realized what she was saying. She was taking her Ordeal. She was only fourteen, and she was facing the test in which at least one in twenty older, more experienced students died every year. It was so dangerous that the Council of Elders tried to make it illegal a few years back.

“Shi’ara?” said Master Hai gently, as if he had read her mind, “You don’t have to do this, you know. You can try again next year, if you would like.”

Part of Steel, the cowardly, self-preserving part she usually kept well hidden in the back of her mind, suddenly surfaced. Maybe she should come back next year. She was no Master Hai, to do the Ordeal early. Better to stay alive than to die just for a test…

No. She had to go through with the Ordeal, and now. She had been unconsciously waiting for this chance since Master Hai had taken her off the streets of Hanu eleven years before, and she wanted to be a Shiran with every ounce of her soul. She knew she had to do it.

“Ambassador Ual, will you please show me to the Ordeal chamber?” she asked, banishing the cowardly part of her again. “I’m going to do it—and I’m not going to die.”

The dragon looked surprised. “You have more guts than I thought you had, little human,” she rumbled. “Well, if you’ve made your choice, follow me. Your friends will watch you from various hidden cameras. They have also been provided with lamps.”

Steel followed Ual’s massive form out of the room and down the not-so-dark passage, not looking back.

Finally, Ual stopped. Her giant claw grasped a chain protruding from the stone floor, and with her enormous strength, attempted to lift it, along with a four-foot square flagstone, out of the passage. With a sharp grating noise, it came free, revealing a stone staircase winding down into pitch blackness. Steel took a deep breath, and began her meditation. In…hold…out…hold…in…hold… then, slowly, she began her descent into the inky black pit.

The stone room was as dark as stairwell. Steel tensed herself warily, straining her ears for any movement. As the stone ground back into place behind her, the darkness became absolute.

At first, it was merely a dark chamber. Slowly, however, as Steel’s sense of dread grew stronger, the very darkness seemed to solidify. It grew thicker and thicker, until it grew so strong she could no longer move. The heaviness pressed in on her, crushing her to a pulp, flooding her mouth as she opened it to gasp out a breath, enveloping her body in a crushing grip. She was drowning in it, and she could feel it moving throughout her body, a vile, impure disease, seeking her heart.

No. She could not let it take her. Weakly, she began to struggle against the evil stuff, twisting and writhing both body and spirit to free herself, but in vain. Despite her struggles, the darkness crept closer and closer to where it could—and would—kill her.

In her panic, Steel realized she had stopped meditating. She could not breathe -because her lungs were full of the evil, but she made herself concentrate, forced herself to push her fear aside. And as she did, the darkness faltered—and began to recede. Steel pushed back her fear, banishing it from her body and mind, and the physical form of fear slowly seeped out of her, leaving no trace.

Steel gasped out a ragged breath. Even as she fought to regulate her breathing and heartbeat, she felt stronger—renewed, restored. Even a Shiran was never completely free of fear, but a true Shiran would face death rather than submit to it. She had fought against her greatest enemy, fear itself, and had triumphed.

For perhaps thirty minutes nothing happened. Steel used the time in meditation, preparing herself for what was ahead. If the first challenge had almost killed her, she hated to think what the next might be. She pushed the thought out of her mind, and sank voluntarily into semi consciousness, letting her mind fold in on itself.

Suddenly, Steel saw a flicker of light. A butterfly, voluminous wings silently beating, hovered in the air above her head. She watched it, transfixed. What beautiful colors, she thought. With every flap of the gauzy wings, music issued from nowhere, beautiful and haunting and pure. She was going to stay there forever, in utter peace with the world. She gave herself up completely to that beauty.

She didn’t know how long she stood there, looking and listening to the music and the butterfly. She was at home, helping her mother cook some fragrant dish for the family. Her father, his eyes full of laughter, was there too, and her sisters and brother, playing and singing. She wanted to stay there forever, her mother’s warm body close, with her family gathered around her. There was nothing else in the whole world except that and the music and the butterfly.

Dimly, faces floated through her mind, faces she had seen somewhere. A young girl, small and pretty, with long blonde hair and large brown eyes who was tougher than she looked. An old man, a perpetual twinkle in his eye and a heart of gold. A dark haired boy seemed to always be grinning, even when it was grossly out of place. A dragon, shining with a bright green light—a light that came to Steel. It was a strong, fierce, powerful, beautiful light, which was even more beautiful than the song and the butterfly. She reached out to it, embracing it, and it touched her, changing as it did from green to shining copper.

The butterfly beat its wings harder, angrily. Slowly but surely, the copper light filled the girl beneath it, and the butterfly wanted the girl, wanted her soul to belong to it again. The music grew louder, but still the copper light flooded the girl’s body until she began to glow bright as fire. Then copper light reached out to the butterfly and touched it.

An awful scream rent the air, and the butterfly writhed in that terrible radiance. Slowly, it burned in than light until it was gone, and its ashes blew away, taking the music with it. The light burned brighter for a moment, and then vanished.

The spell broke. Steel fell to the ground, hitting the hard stone floor with a thud. She remembered now—she remembered Zyviva and Master Hai and Tom, and remembered what she had truly seen: the butterfly was a demon-thing, the music the screaming of agonized souls. Her body became drenched with cold sweat as she remembered the awful creature, weaving its illusions of joy while it destroyed you. She shuddered. Evidently her spirit and her Ki were too strong for it. She remembered the shining copper light and smiled. It was a manifestation of her Ki, no doubt. But it hadn’t come from her—and it had disappeared without a trace after it had killed the demon. So what was it?

Steel slowly pushed herself up from the floor and stood, weak and trembling. Something hot trickled down her cheek, dripped on to her palm and shone scarlet. Steel felt her face and found it was covered in blood from its impact with the floor. No matter—it would heal in a few minutes.

There was almost no time between when she banished the demon and the next task. All at once the darkness vanished, and Steel covered her ears, preparing to meet another demon-butterfly, but there was none. Cautiously, she looked around.

The room was filled with dancing, many-hued light. It wasn’t like the butterfly light, but more like the glow she had seen emanating out of Ual and the other dragons. In the room drifted every color of the rainbow, moving in a complicated rhythm she could not understand. As she looked closer, she realized that each light was behaving differently. Some burned like fire, some flowed like water, and some, like Ual’s green radiance, shone ethereally like moonlight. Some twisted and turned like ribbon, some gave off a pearly sheen. No two were the same in color or behavior.

At the very center of the chamber was a stone pedestal. The light moved around it as if to obscure it from her unworthy sight, but her eyes were drawn irrevocably to it as a moth to flame. Slowly, she began to walk toward it, through the light, her footsteps echoing softly on the stone floor.

Three stone steps led up to the dais. Steel nudged her foot to the first step, testing to see if it would give way or disappear when faced with her weight. When it held, she lifted herself up to the top, where she could see what was on the pedestal. She didn’t know why, but she knew that this was going to be the hardest task of all.

On the crude pillar was a simple stone bowl. It was not detachable, as it was carved from the rock of the dais itself. But Steel hardly noticed it, as her eyes were too busy examining what was in the bowl.

The basin was filled with an enormous crystal, bigger than Steel’s head. It had no color, just light, yet seemed to contain every hue that danced in the room—and one more that did not.

Steel peered into the crystal, straining her eyes to perceive that one absent color. It was difficult, but Steel had not trained her mind for eleven years to be thwarted mentally by some stone. Slowly she brought the color nearer and nearer to the surface, until the entire crystal was a bright, blazing copper.

She gasped softly. This was the light that had saved her from the demon, and this crystal was where it dwelled. It was Ehual, the dragon-stone, and her task was to find out, once and for all, if she was dragon-born. It was a gamble. Even if she was, it was very possible that the Ehual would kill her anyway.

Steel watched the copper light—her light, if she survived—dance beneath the surface of the stone. How had Ual said the dragons captured radiance from the stone? She didn’t see how she could eat it. Perhaps Ual’s shining silver teeth could crush the crystal, but her weak human ones never could. And even if she did find a way, should she take the chance? Did she really have a choice? Did she want to possess that light?

The answer was yes. She did want that light to be hers, wanted it more than anything. She wanted to be a Shiran, like Master Hai and Master Hannah, wanted to help people, and she wanted the light itself. If she wanted to, she could call for help, call for Master Hai to take her out of the dungeon, but she knew in her heart that she never could. She would take the light—or take death.

Steel lowered her hand into the basin. As soon as her fingers touched the crystal, the stone seemed to melt into the bowl, liquid copper fire, burning her palm. Gritting her teeth against the pain, she reached deeper into the bowl, brought up a handful of the stuff, and tipped it down her throat.

It was agony. The fire seared her throat, flowed through every part of her body, burning her. Ignoring the pain, Steel dipped her hand in again, and again swallowed the liquid. The pain doubled. She paused and took a breath, pushing back her fear. After a moment she felt ready to continue.

She dipped both hands in this time, ruthlessly pouring it down her throat, fighting against the pain with all her might. With every gulp the fire intensified, slowly seeping through her.

She lowered her face to the liquid and drank. She did not know how the agony could possibly grow, but she knew one thing: she was not dragon-born. She was going to die, but she would die fighting. Lifting her head from the bowl to take a breath, a gasp of pain escaped her lips as the cold air hit her already burned features. She felt the momentary impulse to stop drinking, but resolutely lowered herself to the poison once more.

Dimly, she noticed that half of the liquid in the bowl was gone. Steel redoubled her efforts, striving to retain consciousness even while her body was burning, just until she could finish drinking. She could barely think because of the pain arcing through her, but there was room for one thought: she must take it all. A third of the liquid was left… now a quarter… a sixth… an eighth…

And then, Steel’s nose scraped the bottom of the bowl. Hurriedly, she gulped down the last of the Ehual, scraping the last drops from the rough basin with her blackened fingertips and sucking them dry again. It was over. Slowly, the pain began to leave her. Maybe—just maybe—she would survive.

Steel lifted her face from the bowl. The dancing lights were still there, as bright and beautiful as ever. Other than the fading stabs, she felt exactly the same as before. Somehow, she had been expecting some dramatic change in awareness, perhaps even a physical transformation. She didn’t even know exactly what she thought was going to happen, but it certainly wasn’t this. She felt normal, even if she was a little dizzy.

Feeling the sudden urge to laugh, Steel stumbled as she climbed down from the podium. It didn’t really matter what she was laughing about, because, after all, life was funny. Everything would be fine. Just as long as she stayed happy, everything would be fine. She took a few skips around the floor, and it felt so good she did it again. She would dance forever, and nothing would ever go wrong…Even if the pain was returning, that was all right, really. Even if the pain was returning a lot.

Suddenly, she screamed. The agony was back, ten times—no, a hundred, a thousand times as strong as before. The burning sensation before was nothing to this torture. She was being cooked in an open fire, her flesh providing the fuel. The flames were consuming her, destroying her.

And then it was over. Steel slumped to the ground, the blankness she had felt burned away. She did feel different this time—fuller, more complete. The fire was still in her, but it was part of her now. Out of the corner of her eye, Steel saw a butterfly fluttering weakly away. She laughed again, but not blankly. The demon-thing would never take her again. It had learned its lesson.

All of a sudden, Steel felt a sudden coolness at her feet. Glancing down, she saw the last of the dancing colors seeming to melt, flowing into a many hued puddle on the floor. She stared into it, surprised at this unexplained happening, trying to detect some hidden significance, but saw only her reflection, wavering where uneven floor had caused differences in the overall depth.

And then she saw something strange. There she was, her normally smooth dark skin burned and torn, her clothing in tatters and rags on her body. Her hair, which had been tightly braided away from her face, had not been burned, but it was not that which was unusual. It was her eyes. They were no longer the deep coal black they were, but were instead the same glowing copper as the Ehual. The dragon-stone had not only changed her essence. It had also changed her form.

Suddenly, Steel heard a grinding noise. Was there yet another task? She tore her eyes away from her copper-eyed reflection and turned, ready to face another adversary, but instead saw a square of green light as the trapdoor lifted, revealing the huge head of Ual. The scaled, emerald hued face showed no expression. The Ordeal was over. Steel had passed.

She reluctantly stepped out of the welcome coolness of the puddle of color and slowly made her way to the staircase, climbing it just as carefully because of her injuries. As she got to the top, she smiled at the ambassador, wincing a little because it hurt her face. “Hello, Madame Ambassador. I did well, yes?”

Ual’s expression twisted into one of surprise at the greeting, but changed into knowing pride as she beheld Steel’s eyes.

“Well, young one,” she rumbled softly, “You did it. Hai will be so proud.” Then, as if remembering to be gruff, she said, “well, I must say you surprised me by even getting past the first task. But I guess I can’t call you a human now, eh?”

Steel was taken aback. “What?”

“Always the one for brilliant questions, aren’t you? You’re a dragon now, not in form but in spirit. If you want proof just look at yourself!”

The girl looked down. In the dark corridor, she was glowing just as brightly as Ual, but with her own bright copper sheen.

Suddenly, a wave of exhaustion hit her. She swayed and started to fall forward, but Ual snagged her with her tail, her grip surprisingly gentle. “Goodness, I forgot what bad shape you’re in! We need to get you into bed!” She lifted Steel off the floor and set off down the hall in a businesslike manner.

As she was carried down the corridor, she reflected on what she had done. She had survived drinking Ehual, and defeated Fear and a demon—twice. She had proved herself to such a length that even one most contemptuous of her ability would be forced to agree that she was undoubtedly a Shiran in every way, face, and form. She was a warrior, a Master! She had trained eleven years for this, and had finally done it.

Steel fought to remain awake. She was so tired. If she could just rest for a moment… but there was one thing left for her to do.

“Ambassador Ual,” she said.

The dragon stopped walking and bent her head closer to the exhausted girl to catch her words.

“Ambassador Ual,” she repeated, louder this time, “you said you knew my name…” Her eyelids fluttered in exhaustion.

The dragon smiled, looking down into the tired copper orbs. “I do, little one. Sleep, my friend, my Dragonseye,” she growled gently, and the young Shiran obeyed.

Steel rose on the day of her initiation with a clear, uncluttered mind. According to the rules of the ceremony, She dressed in the simple white garments left to her, fastening the fine cloth with an equally plain white belt. Her unbound trouser legs swished about her ankles as she walked in the direction of the auditorium, her mind reviewing the events that had passed since she had taken the Ordeal that had left her marked for life. She raised her hand unconsciously to her eyes—her friends had been very surprised at that change in her! In fact, Tom had refused to speak to her at all for days afterwards, she still didn’t know why. She made a mental note to ask her sister when she got a chance.

She had arrived at her destination without noticing while she had been thinking. She started automatically to meditate, but stopped herself. Somehow, it didn’t seem to be the right thing to do. Pushing open the big wooden door, the girl pointed her eyes strait ahead toward the dais where Master Hai awaited her, refusing to look at the people gathered in the seats. Even so, she could not help noticing Ual’s glowing green scales among her multicolored retinue, or Zyviva’s familiar golden tresses. Tom had his sister, Beth, perched on his shoulder, and neither of them looked very happy about the arrangement. She smiled to herself as she imagined their argument about that.

Steel reached the stage and mounted the steps. Wordlessly, she walked over to her Master for the last eleven years and knelt before him, her calves pressing against the hard wood of the dais. The old man looked down at his student, recalling the day she had come to him off the streets for training, showing so much potential. Now she had proved herself to be more than he had ever dreamed. She had been a daughter to him, but now it was time to let her go.

Zyviva looked at the form of her friend and companion-in-arms, smiling to herself, recalling the good times they’d had together.

Tom looked at her and wondered how he could convince her that he was not an idiot.

Steel thought of all of them. Her gaze traveled over her teacher and mentor, and her friends. She also remembered, many things. But no time for such thoughts—Master Hai was beginning to speak. She put those matters away for later.

“Many people pass through our gates. Some succeed in their training, going on to great heights. Some do not. But each and every person learns something different, becomes something they were not. This girl before me entered this school as a homeless child, struggling to survive. She has listened and learned. She has become older. She has become wiser. She has passed every test and overcome every obstacle, and she comes before you now prepared to take up the burden of our Order. This choice is in your hands. What say you?”

This was a ritual formality. The assembled teachers had no power to prevent her from becoming a Shiran, unless they had proof of her not being worthy. Sure enough, immediately after Master Hai had spoken these words, a great chorus of “Ayes!” rose from the crowd.

“So be it,” continued Master Hai. He turned to a small table behind him and picked up what was lying on it, holding it up for all to see. It was an amulet, a bright copper disk the size of Steel’s circled thumb and forefinger. It the center was the likeness of a dragon, wings half spread, of inlaid stainless steel. Clutched in the dragon’s talons was a copper staff, the symbol of the Shiran order. Master Hai gently tied the disk around Steel’s neck, and raised her from her kneeling position. “Protect always those in need. Shun no man, nor no woman, nor no child, regardless of form or feature. Be always true to your friend, and to the goodness that sustains us all.” He turned her to face the crowd. “I give you Shi’ara Dragonseye!”

A great roar rose from the crowd at his words. Steel turned to face the cheering people, her head high and her face properly expressionless. Suddenly friends and teachers, giving advice and congratulations, were hugging her on all sides. When she had finally fought her way out of the crowd, she found herself facing Tom and Zyviva.

There was a silence, and then the harpy boy spoke,

“So,” he said quietly. “You’re a Shiran. I suppose this is goodbye?”

Steel rolled her eyes to the top of her head. “Oh, honestly. Stop being all theatrical. Of course you’re coming with me.”

Zyviva raised her eyebrows. “Where would you be going, then?”

Steel sighed in exasperation, and then, unable to hold it back any longer, grinned widely. Putting her hands on the shoulders of her friends, she steered them toward the exit. “Where did you think?” she said. “We’re going to have adventures.”