Up and Coming: Stories by the 2016 Campbell-Eligible Authors

The Storymaster

Originally published in The Dragon Chronicles (Windrift Books, 2015), part of The Future Chronicles Series created by Samuel Peralta

“Papa, it’s time to get up,” came the ever-cheerful voice of my eldest granddaughter.

It most definitely couldn’t be time to get up yet. “Go away, Myrill,” I groaned and pulled the thick wool blanket tighter in a vain attempt to ward her off. I was sure she was shorting my late afternoon nap more and more each day.

“Now, Papa, the children are waiting to hear from the Storymaster,” she said.

“So go find one, and let me sleep,” I grumbled.

“I did, and he’s in here shirking his duties,” she chided.

I think she thoroughly enjoyed putting me through this every day at this time. Maybe it was payback for all those times I’d had to wake her up for something when she was a small child. Or maybe she just had a sadistic side. Probably both.

I knew there was no escaping it; I’d have to get up. It was just that it was so warm under the blankets, and the thick feather mattress was very comfortable. It would grow cold once I got up and I’d have to warm it up all over again.

I slowly rolled back over and tried to untangle myself from the blanket. “You better have some tea on if you expect me to travel all that way in the bitter cold.”

“Papa, they’re just in the next room over, and we have a good fire going,” she said.

“Still, there’d better be tea, or I’m coming right back here! Now, where did you hide my cane this time?” I asked as I finally got my legs free.

“It’s right here, exactly where you left it, of course.” She picked up my old bamboo cane. It was worn smooth at the grip, and the base was rough from use. It was a good solid cane, one I’d had for many years now. I could walk without it, but my old bones much appreciated the help.

She handed it to me and I slowly made my way out to the room where my great-grandchildren were playing. Seeing their energy and vitality just made my advanced age feel even older. I wondered how many of them would remember me after I was gone and they started having their own children.

I knew that Myrill was right. I needed to get out of the bed and move around. I really did enjoy the children, but moving was getting harder with each passing day. The long cold winter nights didn’t help either.

As I lowered myself into my rocker by the fire, Myrill tucked a wool blanket around me. She had made it for me earlier this winter, and despite my complaining, I really did appreciate all the attention she paid to my comfort.

After checking to be sure I also had pillows, she said, “I’ll be back shortly with your tea.”

The children all ran up to my chair and called out, “Storymaster! Tell us a story!”

“What story should I tell you?” I asked them. Their excitement was a bit contagious and I drew strength from it. A million stories came to my mind, and a thousand heroes leapt for attention.

They all called out different stories at the same time and I honestly couldn’t understand any of it. “‘David’s Last Ride’ it is, then!” I decided to go with one of my favorites instead of fighting through the cacophony of noise that only a gaggle of children can produce.

There were some cheers and some “Awwws,” but everyone settled down to hear it. It was one of the more exciting stories, and the little ones especially liked hearing it. Or so I told myself. David held a special place in my heart for many reasons, so I loved to tell about him.

“David was the last of the truly great dragonmasters. A few lived on after him, but none could match his skill and cunning. His dragon, Lyrroth, was a sleek and wise black dragon. They had many adventures together before and after the war. As you recall, the war almost completely wiped out the dragons, but they still held on for a time. There were perhaps a half dozen or so of them left when David made his last ride. It was a warm morning, sometime in the spring…” I started and then allowed myself to fully slip into the character of David, and for a short while I left my aching body behind…

This would be the last generation of dragons, as there were no breeding pairs left. I couldn’t even think of a single living female dragon. In a few generations we’d just be a legend, and probably a few more after that people would start to doubt that they ever really existed.

“Good morning, David,” came the deep rumbling voice of the mighty Lyrroth.

“Morning, old friend,” I said and stretched out. The sun felt good on my obsidian skin as I walked out of our cave. I found Lyrroth lying in the sun. He was a massive beast; twelve grown men could easily lay down head to foot from the tip of his tail to the tip of his snout. His scales were an iridescent black and had a colorful sheen in the morning light. His maw was filled with fangs that could rend an armored man in half with a single bite, and smoke rose from his nostrils as he relaxed in the sun.

“Did the supply ships come in?” I asked.

“No, and now they are two days late. I think we’d better go look for them,” he said. There was a great weariness in his voice.

It was hard to greet each morning and each new adventure with joy like we used to. We had lost so many friends and family members to the war, and the few dragons that were left were slowing dying off.

“Yeah, I guess we’d better,” I said. It was a bad sign that the supply convoy was late. The towns below us badly needed building materials and other supplies. The island base was practically impregnable, but during the war the farmland was torched, as was much of the forest. It would be years before the humans could support themselves again. Until then, they depended on supplies from the mainland.

“Where are the others?” I asked.

“Rhenvaar and Barioth are lounging by their caves. The rest have flown off on other errands.”

Rhenvaar and Barioth were inseparable twin red dragons. They did everything together, and often that entailed creating havoc. Their riders were also twins, and they went out of their way to dress and act exactly alike. This caused all kinds of confusion, and they enjoyed every minute of it.

Red dragons were by far the most common of the species, and by far the largest. They were larger and stronger than black dragons like Lyrroth, but they were also slower and less maneuverable in the air. Red dragons had been the bulk of the fighting force at one time, but now only these two remained.

Before the war, I would have flown this reconnaissance mission alone or with two other black dragons, but there were no other black dragons left. Lyrroth was the last, and no one dared fly alone anymore.

“Wake them, and let’s get in the air. Hopefully we’ll find the ships sailing peacefully along, but we’d better be ready just in case,” I said.

He rose to his full height, and I could see the many scars on his hide. We were both old and had both taken many wounds. We’d cheated death more times than I could count, but Father Time was as relentless as he was patient.

Lyrroth leaped off the cliff and extended his wings for a gentle glide down to where the brothers lay talking. I walked over to watch him fly down and was impressed at the grace he could still show given his age.

I was sure that it would be dark before we returned and it wouldn’t do to pass out from hunger while in the air, so breakfast was the next order of business. We had hunted recently, and there was still plenty of meat hanging to drain. It made for a fine breakfast roasted over our cooking fire.

As I finished my meal, Lyrroth returned, landing near me with a gentleness that seemed impossible. Had I been human and not a dragonmaster, the heat that he radiated from his internal furnace would have been at the very least uncomfortable, and likely would have turned my skin red from exposure.

Dragon fire came from a mixture of iron, oxygen, and aluminum that was ignited by magnesium in their internal furnace before breathing. A dragon had to keep the furnace hot, which meant his blood was constantly carrying heat away from the furnace to his scales. His scales then radiated the heat off to prevent the dragon from burning himself up.

For me, the heat he radiated was welcoming. It was what friendship felt like.

Rhenvaar and Barioth were circling overhead with their dragonmasters, obviously itching to get going. They missed the constant action of the war, and were probably hoping we would find trouble out there.

“They’re ready,” said Lyrroth.

“Then let’s get airborne,” I said.

I climbed onto Lyrroth, strapped myself down and focused my mind into his. When dragonmaster and dragon bind, individuality ceases. Each personality, each set of abilities, memories, and everything that makes an individual an individual blends to make one new creature. Mentally, I fell into Lyrroth and we became one. It was only when bound together like this each of us was complete.

I, as Lyrroth-David, stretched my wings and leapt into the air, flying between the circling Rhenvaar and Barioth. They roared their greetings as I passed between them. Three dragons and three masters, perfectly blended together.

“Follow me!” I roared.

Our den was in a mountain valley, so we had to climb high through the cloud layer to clear the mountains, and then dive fast towards the ocean. I quickly outpaced my slower companions, and the rush of the wind in my face and the sight of the ground racing towards me were exhilarating. No matter how old I got, I never got over the thrill of raw speed. I let myself go. Behind me Rhenvaar and Barioth pushed hard to keep up, but continued to fall behind. I wondered if they enjoyed these high-speed dives as much as I did, but decided they were too slow to understand the joy of raw speed.

Pulling up at the last moment, just barely clearing the treetops, I roared past the tiny fishing village and over the open sea. Villagers waved their arms and children jumped up and down. I knew they’d be cheering too, but their tiny lungs could never hope to produce enough sound to reach me.

It was one of the many tiny towns that dotted our domain, and they always enjoyed seeing us in the air. I also enjoyed seeing them, as they reminded me of why we still get up every morning. Villages like the one below counted on us to protect them.

With the others so far behind, I figured I had a little time for a show. I inhaled deeply and breathed fire while executing a loop that created a massive ring of fire in the sky. I continued looping smaller and smaller loops, forming a spiral of super hot plasma until I had finally exhausted my breath, and then with a wave of my wings headed back on course at a slower speed.

Rhenvaar and Barioth decided to join in the show as my fiery spiral dissipated. They came in low and pulled up hard, breathing fire as they twisted around each other, making a great column of fire in the sky. Below us in the village the townsfolk jumped and waved the flag of our nation, obviously enjoying the impromptu show.

Rhenvaar and Barioth dove down from where they had completed their pillar of flame and came racing up behind me. We headed towards the main shipping route, hoping to find good news about the supply convoy. The rocks made the seaport treacherous, but long ago a channel was cleared with the help of a team of green dragons. If the supply ships were close, they would be in that channel. If they had wrecked, the most likely place would be near the channel on either side.

I allowed some more of my speed to bleed off, and the two red dragons pulled alongside me. “We should start by following the channel out to the open water,” I called out.

They roared their agreement, and we flew out low over the water. I wanted to be low enough to spot debris if they had run aground, but there was no sign of them.

Myrill came with my tea right then and I stopped to take a drink. The tea soothed my throat and warded off the coughing fit that I knew would follow without it. I supposed I’d spent too many seasons sitting by the fire, breathing in the smoke while telling stories.

The youngest of my great-grandchildren, Silverleaf, took advantage of the break to ask, “Storymaster, why didn’t the dragons just carry the supplies?”

I smiled. He was one of the most inquisitive people I had met. I guess it was his age. I wondered what it was like to be so young and full of hope. It was too far behind me to remember. I guessed I might have been a lot like him at his age. It took an exceptionally inquisitive mind to be a storymaster.

“They did at one point, but by this time there were too few of them, and they had to stay and help protect the island,” I said.

I took another swallow of the honey and licorice tea that Myrill always made for me. She said it was good for the throat, but I didn’t really know much about that. What I did know was that it was real easy going down on these cold winter nights.

“Now, where was I?” I asked. I, of course, knew exactly where I’d left off. My body was failing, but my mind was as sharp as ever. It was just a fun way to see which children were actually listening. Besides, it added to the old and helpless image I had to keep up if I wanted to keep my supply of tea coming.

“Lyrroth, Rhenvaar and Barioth were flying out over the channel looking for the supply ships,” piped up young Tamerale.

“Ah yes,” I said and continued the story from where I’d left off.

We flew the entire route of the channel and found no sign of the ships. I hadn’t expected any. Had they run into trouble this close, surely someone would have been able to make it ashore and get word to us.

“Let’s head higher and spread out. Fly towards the mainland port they came from!” I called out over the noise of the air rushing by.

They roared and I pulled up, leading them into the sky. They spread out so that we formed a great triangle in the sky and covered a much wider area than any single dragon could have.

The great raptors that patrolled the sea looking for fish gave us wide berth, silently acknowledging that we were kings of the domain of the air.

The ocean was rough, but nothing the big ships that carried our supplies couldn’t handle. They were well acquainted with these waters and should have had no problems navigating the conditions.

We flew for about an hour when Rhenvaar roared that he’d found something. Barioth and I turned to follow him. He had found the supply ships all right, and they were beset with pirates!

A dozen pirate ships had encircled the supply ships and were pounding them with broadside after broadside. The ironwood sides of the supply ships were starting to splinter under the beating, but lived up to to their name. I doubted they could hold out much longer, but they wouldn’t have to.

“Attack!” I called out and dove towards the farthest ship with the sun at my back. They wouldn’t see or hear me until it was too late for them. As I closed in on the ship I took a deep breath, fanning my internal fires. These pirates would never again bother supply caravans, that was for certain.

As I closed in I opened my great maw and breathed white scorching hot flames and saturated the ship with fire. The dry wood of the deck and the cloth of the sails caught flame easily. The fire became a hungry beast with a mind of its own racing throughout the vessel as the men started abandoning ship in panic. Soon the flames reached their kegs of black powder and the explosions ripped through the hull, sending deck hands diving for cover as shrapnel ripped through the air around them. The sloop had taken the full force of my breath, and was nothing more than a brilliant bonfire.

Rhenvaar swung wide and low and went at two more of the pirate ships at once. Using the advantage of surprise and speed he breathed his flames into the hulls of the ships above the water line and right across the cannon ports. Men screamed as the ship burned and more black powder ignited, sending a rain of debris and body parts everywhere.

He didn’t even pause in his breathing as he finished his pass on the first ship and began his pass over the second. Fire leapt across the bow of the ship and began its deadly dance through the wooden planks that made up the deck.

Barioth was the more cautious of the twins and stayed high as he dove through another group of pirates, but that didn’t lessen the fiery fury that he breathed across them.

In that first pass we left five of the pirate ships in roaring flames. I banked hard and came back for another pass when one of the pirates launched a counter attack. Massive nets flew into the air towards me, attempting to entangle me and send me crashing into the sea, but I’d seen this move many times before and was ready for it.

I deftly turned my wings up and began beating against my flight path, causing me to stall in place. The nets flew harmlessly past, on a perfect trajectory to where I would have been had I kept flying.

With a great roar I flipped over and resumed my attack run. The pirates didn’t have enough time to prepare a second set of nets, and they never would, because I unleashed my scorching breath across the mainsail, setting the boom and stern aflame. The pirates dove into the sea, abandoning their ship as the hull became engulfed in flames. Kegs of black powder erupted, throwing debris everywhere.

Black smoke filled the sky above me as I banked hard to avoid crashing into the ship and headed towards my next target. I needed a few more moments to let my internal furnace get hot enough to produce more fire, but I didn’t let an opportunity pass to take down another target.

These pirate ships were of the sloop style and weighed almost double my own weight, but that wouldn’t save them. I beat my wings hard and aimed for the broadside of one of the undamaged ships. At the last moment before impact I changed my flight path and smashed my tail into the bow, knocking a large chunk of the ship off, and sending great cracks through the hull. The unforgiving sea rushed into the breach and the ship began to sink.

The slam forced me to beat my wings hard to regain altitude, and for a brief moment, if the pirates had been the quick sort, I was vulnerable to counter attack. I wasn’t concerned that the pathetic pirates could take advantage of that weakness. They were too busy trying to keep their footing as the ship lurched under the force of the blow, and I climbed safely back into the sky.

Seven of the thirteen pirate ships were out of the fight, and their crews were swimming for the remaining ships. The supply ships turned away from the fight and were making good time tacking towards safety.

As I watched, the twins made another pass, deftly avoiding the nets sent their way, and destroyed three more of the pirate ships. With only three ships left, the pirates seemed more intent on fleeing than fighting. Large bonfires marked this battlefield for now, but before long the sea would claim what was left of the ships and there would be no indication the fight ever happened.

“Let the rest go,” I called out as we regrouped.

“Why?” asked Rhenvaar.

“So that they’ll tell others about what happens when you attack supply ships destined for this harbor,” I said.

“I doubt they have the sense to stay away. We should finish them off,” said Barioth.

It would almost be a kinder fate to kill them all, I mused to myself. The three sloops would take on what was left of the crews of the nine lost ships. It would be crowded and miserable. Pirates weren’t known for getting along in the best of times, and this wouldn’t be the best of times, for sure. But honor demanded we let fleeing combatants flee.

“Wait,” said Silverleaf. His little brow furled as he tried to reason out his question. “If it was more merciful to kill them, why would honor dictate they be miserable?”

I was impressed with this little one’s reasoning. He showed wisdom beyond his seasons.

“That’s just the rule, and rules are rules,” said Tamerale.

I smiled. Tamerale wasn’t quite old enough to grasp that there are times when things are not so black and white, but in the end his answer was right.

“Silverleaf, the rules of honor were intended to bring some civility to combat, and in most cases they did just that, but no rule can be perfect all of the time. It’s up to the honorable warrior to figure out how best to apply them in any given engagement,” I said.

“But then he should have killed them,” reasoned Silverleaf.

“Perhaps, and the twins sure would have been happy to, but Lyrroth was in charge and he decided to let them go,” I said.

Myrill’s husband Nasir said, “Keep in mind, by letting them go he was giving them a chance to improve their life and learn from their mistakes. Perhaps one day they would learn to use their knowledge of the sea to help others, or they might have had children at home waiting for them. If he had killed them, then all the possible futures go away.”

Nasir’s display of insight let me know my time as storymaster was almost up. Indeed, my time left in this world was nearly complete. I would have to speak with Nasir after story time.

“So, then, it really was more merciful for him to let them go?” asked Silverleaf.

“It could have been, but we don’t know what happened to them after that,” I said. In reality, I figured they probably didn’t learn anything from it and went on to cause more trouble. “But, that wasn’t the end of Lyrroth’s troubles that day…”

We circled above the supply ships while they got back in formation and set sail for the harbor. The three undamaged pirate ships picked up what was left of the other crews and made haste to get out of the area. Everything seemed calm, but I was on edge. Something wasn’t right.

“Keep alert and—” I started, but before I could finish there was a loud roar, and something large and green slammed into the back of Rhenvaar.

As they tumbled out of the air, I saw what had hit him. “Feral dragon!” I roared. That wasn’t good. When a dragon lost his dragonmaster, it was like they lost all sense of reason and became pure predators. They destroyed anything in their path until they were either put down, or they finally succumbed to hunger. All they did was destroy, rarely, if ever, stopping to eat.

Barioth and I were powerless to help as they twisted and turned, falling from the sky. They raked each other with great claws and it was impossible to tell who was winning. The pair of them crashed into the sea among the still-flaming boats, spraying water in every direction, but they fought on.

The violent tumbling and fighting in the water created massive waves that threatened to capsize the already damaged pirate ships. If there were any crew left in the water, there was no way they could survive the maelstrom being created as the two dragons wrestled.

Hot dragon blood spilled into the ocean in great quantities and created massive clouds of steam, further obscuring the battle. There was far too much blood being spilled, and it wasn’t looking good for Rhenvaar.

I wanted to dive in and help, but there was no way to get in without risking attacking Rhenvaar. Barioth and I circled, watching for an opening, but none presented itself. I watched helplessly as the battling dragons roared in frustration. The green dragon had gotten the jump on Rhenvaar, and they were in the water; that meant he had all the advantages.

My fears were soon realized as the green dragon burst from the water and Rhenvaar and his master slowly sank into the darkness. Inseparable in life, and inseparable in death. Before I could react, Barioth roared and dove straight at the green beast, breathing fire as he went.

Dragon skin isn’t vulnerable to fire, but a face full of fire would temporally blind, and Barioth used that to cover a fast course change to come around behind the green dragon.

The green dragon was no youngling and was ready for the move, and at the last moment he rolled over and raked with his claws.

Barioth was ready for the counter and rolled with him, slashing at his side.

The beast howled with anger and twisted violently, sending his tail slamming into the side of Barioth’s face, knocking him back.

I saw an opening and dove with the speed that only a black dragon can reach, raking my claws across its back as I went by. I twisted into a tight spiral to come around for another pass, but Barioth was already on him.

The green dragon spun into Barioth’s attack, biting hard into his neck as Barioth tried to pull back. I watched in horror as Barioth’s move caused the green dragon’s mouth to rip away a chunk of Barioth’s neck. Red-hot dragon blood flowed freely, and Barioth fell from the sky into the sea.

The green dragon turned and came for me next, but I was faster and more nimble. I dove under his attack, raking at his belly as he went by. Hot blood flowed freely from the wounds, but they were not deep enough to slow him down. He tried to turn back on me, but he was too large and slow for that maneuver. I followed him through and came around for another strike.

He dove into the ocean to avoid me, and I pulled up just before hitting the water. As a black dragon, I was faster and more nimble in the air than a green dragon, but if I followed him into the water his superior size and strength would easily carry the day. I pulled back into the air, putting distance between myself and the ocean. I knew he would burst out without warning and I wanted sufficient space to react.

My anger at his attack and the death of my friends boiled inside of me, but I forced myself to wait for him to come out. The feral dragon was insane; half of his identity had been lost when he lost his dragonmaster. That insanity would force him out of the water and back into the sky to get me. I just had to wait.

I didn’t have to wait long. With a great roar he shot out of the water straight towards me. I waited for him in the air as he rushed at me, and then I took off, baiting him higher and higher. I had to move the fight away from the supply ships.

Once I broke through the cloud layer I doubled back, and as he came through the clouds I was there with my claws extended. He tried to turn back, just as I expected, and that exposed his chest. I ripped and tore through the thick scales there.

He wasn’t through yet. Now that I had closed the distance, he kicked hard with his back legs, sending me tumbling back through the clouds and towards the sea again.

I bent and twisted until my body was reoriented correctly to stretch out my wings. I quickly changed directions and came back around. The green dragon tried to match my speed and turn, but swung wide, allowing me to get behind and above him.

I knew I could just outfly him and get away, but that would leave the supply convoy at his mercy, and he would surely kill again. No, I had to put him down now while I still could.

He was bleeding from a dozen or more wounds now, but it didn’t seem to slow him down one bit. For my part, I was feeling the toll the fight was taking on my well-aged bones.

Again I dove for him with all the speed I could muster, and this time I caught him unawares. All four of my clawed feet hit his back and I raked hard as I leapt off his back into the air, leaving deep gouges in his back.

He roared in pain, but didn’t yield. He turned back towards me and tried to get inside my turn to cut me off, but I changed direction and came around behind him again.

I had to hit something vital and put an end to this fight before he got a lucky blow in like he had with Barioth. I dove again at his back and again raked through, digging for his spine or a vital organ of some kind, but he twisted away, preventing me from landing a solid blow.

I pulled away from him and watched as he struggled to right himself in the air and regain some speed. I had won, and any sane dragon would have beat a hasty retreat. But this one was feral. It didn’t know to retreat; it only knew to destroy.

He found enough strength for another charge and came at me with all the speed he could muster, but I was above him. I had superior position and speed. I dove towards him, right into his charge. At the last possible moment, I broke to the left, slashing at his throat as I went by. This time I scored a vital hit and ripped open his jugular.

I swung away as he tumbled into the sea, the blood from his many wounds boiling the water around him. I watched to make sure he was done. I wondered what had happened to his rider. With so few dragons, and so many dragonmasters, it was even more shameful to see one go down. He should have been matched to a new rider long before he succumbed to the madness.

With deep sadness at his plight, I flew off to check on my friends, but neither of them had made it. Two dragonmasters and three dragons, lost forever. It was yet another dark day for dragonkind.

The end of the age of dragons was at hand, and there was nothing anyone could do to stop it.

I sighed and held back the tears that this story always brought on. I wished I’d been alive to see the dragons. They must have been something to see up close.

“But what happens next?” asked Silverleaf.

“No one knows for sure,” I answered. It wasn’t the truth, but there were secrets that these children didn’t need to be burdened with. “David and Lyrroth flew off that day and weren’t seen again anywhere in the kingdoms. The other dragons eventually died off, and now all that remain are the stories.”

“And the unfortunate dragonmasters,” said Tamerale.

“Yes,” I said. Dragonmasters were still born to every generation, but without dragons to be bound to, they also go feral eventually. Just like the green dragon in the story. Most times they retreat into the wilds and are never seen again, but a few lose control in a populated area, and that always results in a violent end to their short lives.

“Is there really no hope for them?” asked Silverleaf.

“None has been found yet,” I said.

“It’s not fair. I’ll find a way to make it right,” said Silverleaf.

The boy had a determination in his voice that was way beyond his years. I almost believed it could happen. He certainly at that moment thought it was true. I wanted to believe, but knew I would be long gone before he was old enough to work on that dream.

Tamerale started to say something, but Nasir placed a hand on his shoulder to silence him. That was for the best, as it was probably some barb, and I didn’t want to see Silverleaf’s dream crushed by childish teasing.

“I believe you could if you set your mind to it,” said Nasir.

“I will, you’ll see!” said Silverleaf.

Myrill called the children to her, and they went off to play and eat dessert, leaving me alone with Nasir. It was time to take care of business.

Nasir was about to leave to help her, but I stopped him and said, “Come with me.”

With my joints warmed some by the fire it was slightly easier to walk, and I led him back to my room. Once inside I barred the door and sat in one of my chairs. Nasir found a second chair and sat across from me. I was worn out from the exertion, but there was more to do yet.

“The story doesn’t really end there,” I said.

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“David truly was the last of the greats, the last real hero this world has seen. In his final years, he wanted to make sure the world never forgot the dragons and how we destroyed that noble race. David didn’t disappear. In fact, he became the first storymaster,” I said.

“Really?” he said with surprise.

“Yes, he wrote everything he knew on the scrolls, and we storymasters have kept and copied them throughout the generations, passing them down with great care so that nothing would be lost.”

“Why are you telling me this?” he asked.

“Because you will succeed me as storymaster and you need to know the secrets,” I said.

A look of shock passed over his face. He tried to stammer out words, but was speechless. He was so young to be a father, not even a third of my own age, but he was humble and sharp. He was a good man, and one I was proud to have in the family.

“Don’t look so surprised. You’ve memorized most of the stories already, and you have the gift of insight,” I said.

“But I’m not one of your descendants,” he said. “Don’t I have to be born into the family?”

“Bah, as far as I’m concerned you’re my grandson, and as the oldest living storymaster I get to make the rules. I say that you’ll succeed me, and that is final,” I said.

“I…I’m greatly honored,” he said.

“Now, what you must know is that dragon blood runs strong through our family. It’s practically certain that some of those children running around out there will be dragonmasters,” I said.

“Yes, Myrill warned me,” he said.

“What she didn’t warn you, because she doesn’t know, is that I’m a descendant of David, making your children part of his bloodline,” I said.

“By the gods!” he gasped.

“Yes, you married into royalty, but that’s not the real secret. We call that story ‘David’s Last Ride’ and tell everyone that David flew off, never to be seen again in order to protect a great secret. David left a set of scrolls that no one has opened since his death. He left instructions that one day one of his descendants who is also a dragonmaster should open it, but only one who doesn’t go feral. So far, no one like that has risen up. The storymasters have kept these scrolls secret so that no one violates that order. They have kept a close watch on all of our kinfolk, hoping that each generation would be the generation that it would happen, but so far, nothing. These scrolls will pass from me to you, and you must guard them with your life,” I said.

“But do we have any idea what they say?” he asked.

“No,” I said. I paused and decided I’d better elaborate. “Oh, well, some think they tell of a second age of dragons, but I think that’s just wishful thinking. I don’t blame them. I often dream of what it would be like to fly with the dragons, but alas, that can’t happen this side of the grave.”

I did more than not blame them; I wished they were right with all my heart, but I knew it was impossible. Dragons couldn’t just reappear out of nowhere. You needed mature dragons to make dragon babies.

“I’ll keep them safe,” he said.

There was a reverence in his voice that told me volumes. I had definitely chosen the best man to replace me.

“You will find all my scrolls in a hidden chamber under my bed. Study them often, make copies of the oldest ones to preserve them, and find the other storymasters to cross-check for errors. They’re our stories and must live on, no matter what may come.”

He nodded. “I will.”

“Good. Now please call my granddaughter, as my time is nearly done. I’d like to say goodbye properly while I still can,” I said.

Concern passed over his face and he rushed out to get her. I slowly climbed into my bed. I’d had a good life, and I was ready for my eternal rest. I’d spent each day living the stories for the clan and had grown to really love some of the heroes of old. Soon I would join them on the other side, and it would be like meeting old friends.

Many storymasters had gone before me, and I couldn’t wait to meet them. No one ever told their stories and I wondered what they were like, what they struggled with and, most especially, which stories were their favorites.

My granddaughter came flying into the room with tears already in her eyes. “Papa?”

“My dear, don’t weep for me. I may have a season, perhaps even two more, and then I’m going to a better place, a place where the stories live. But now is the time to set things in order, while I still have my wits.”

“We’ll miss you,” she said.

“Only for a little while, and then we’ll meet again. Perhaps by then I’ll have learned how to ride a dragon. Look, my days are nearly spent and I want you to witness that I’m naming Nasir as my successor, and you both as heir to all that I have left.”

She gasped. “But, Papa…” her reply trailed off.

By naming her husband as my successor, I’d done more than just ensure the stories were carried on. I’d made sure she was provided for. Nasir’s appointment guaranteed him an income for as long as he lived. She cared for me in life, and now I would care for her as I passed.

I just smiled. “Now, please allow me to rest, and when the news spreads please keep everyone at bay. I’d like to spend the last of my days teaching Nasir what I can.”