Journey of a Dragoon (Chapter Seven: Family Farther than Friends)
Hanon was a bustling city, with much more packed into its mass than Mezzen, where Drake had grown up. The place had a feel about it, to Drake, that this was a place of history, where the same stories had been passed on to generations after generations. The buildings looked mismatched, and each seemed to have its own feel. As the group stepped into the town, there were people all around them of different origins and cultures. But for some reason, no matter how much Drake felt the feeling of caution in the back of his head, this place felt like a haven to him, like somewhere that he could come to if he was ever in trouble.
He suddenly heard a voice in his head, a rough, coarse voice that sounded like many of the soldiers who had seen war: “So, you’ve come at last. I was wondering when you would show up.” Drake’s first thought was Father? To his surprise, the voice in his head laughed, and continued: “No, I am not your father, young one. But I have been expecting you, and am here to receive you, and teach you of some things that you truly must know, by your father’s orders. See the tavern in front of you? It’s called the ‘Griffon’s Talon.’ Go into it. I’ll be waiting.” With that, Drake began walking towards the tavern he saw before himself. His companions rushed to follow him, Ulfgar in the lead, wondering where he thought he was going, but not questioning him nonetheless.
The tavern was dimly lit, and the sign with a griffon’s outstretched claw swung behind them. There was no minstrel or bard singing tales, as there often were in taverns, but merely a low hum of talk wafting around them. Every one of the patrons seemed to look them over quickly before turning back to their drinks. Everyone seemed to have a shadow hanging over them, though Drake realized it was just a huge amount of pipe smoke hovering over everyone’s head from the amount of pipe smokers in this tavern.
Suddenly, a black robed figure stepped in front of Drake and bowed as low as he could without being noticed further by the patrons. Drake could not see much of this robed man, but he could see a cynical mouth surrounded by stubble, and when it spoke, it had the same voice that Drake had heard in his head: “Welcome to Hanon, Drake of the Drachen Clan.” It was surprising how formal this man was, who looked like he was trying to guard his appearance. To Drake, he seemed to hold many secrets, as he seemed to know something of Drake that even Drake didn’t know. For this, Drake felt that he had to be very careful with this new acquaintance.
“I would know nothing about a clan. You said that you were to teach me some things? Well, I am here, and I wish to know what you know. You seem to know me, though I do not know you. What is it that you want to talk about?” The dark figure before him smiled, and continued: “Drake, I have been waiting here on your father’s orders, but what I have to tell you is not necessarily for public ears. There’s a room in the back where we can talk in privacy. I’ve already reserved it. Let’s go.” Drake and his group started walking towards the back room, but when they were at the door, the man put a hand up, blocking the rest of the group, with Drake being the exception, from the door.
“I’m sorry, but you must not have heard me. I want to speak to Drake alone, no friends, family or lover is to hear the words that we speak, unless Drake wishes to tell you later. I’m sorry, but that’s the way it is.” No one liked it the moment they heard it. Ulfgar immediately barked, “How do we know that ye won’t stab him in the back?!” The man grinned again, and replied, “Drake has the power to match mine, or perhaps to outdo mine. I wouldn’t worry about him…” With that, the robed man took Drake by the shoulder and led him inside, closing and locking the door behind them.
The room was relatively small, though cozy. There were two doors, one leading back to where Drake’s friends were, and one that led to the kitchen, where the waiters would come and take their orders. Drake’s new companion now drew a pipe of his own, and it was like a gnarled oak branch, twisted and distorted. The stranger in front of him put a few leaves of a plant into the pipe, and lit them aflame. The smell that emanated from the pipe-smoke smelled sweet, with a touch of bitterness. Drake had never smelled anything like it, and yet it was familiar. In what seemed no time at all, there was soon a cloud of this green smoke hovering over the cowled one’s head. From within the smoke cloud, two vivid green eyes appeared, and a voice less grave and with more depth emanated from below the eyes.
“You know by now who your father is, don’t you? I wouldn’t put it past Mailen to keep a lot from you, but I need to know how much you know by now.”
“Why do you need to know? Why do you care? As far as I know, what I know is my own business. You claim to come to me from my father, but I don’t know that you have. Do you have some sort of proof?”
“What kind of proof are you looking for, young Drake? You don’t know anything of your father’s court, do you? You know nothing about the ways of the world beyond Mezzen, and you barely know why you survived your little fight in the Games. I know of these things, and I know more about you than you do.”
“How? How do you know about me or my past?” The only response to his question was a rumbling laugh from within the green cloud.
“I know what has happened in your city since the day you were born. I knew that you used to live on a farm, and a great many other things that I don’t want to get into. Do you want to know why these things have been happening to you? Do you want to know what you are?” Drake faced this decision with all of his wisdom. He feared that if he learned what he was, there was no going back; he would have to meet his father. He knew deep in his heart that this was the path he was supposed to be walking, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to take that first step. He was afraid, afraid at what he was, afraid at his immense power, which seemed to take control of him in the most desperate of situations. I don’t want this power, I don’t want this gift, I just wish I could throw it all to Hell…
“I don’t think you want to do that…” The stranger’s voice sliced into his thoughts so quickly, at first Drake thought that he was the answering voice. The voice continued, “You bear within yourself an incredible gift, you just need to learn to control it more than you have. I’m sure you’re thinking about what would happen if you did something you never thought you would do, if you lost control, but going to the Royal Court would help you. I can help you, but you need to be willing. Are you?” Drake thought long and hard, about where his future might go if he found out, of what he could do, of what path would take him. For once in his life, he did not know the paths he could take, where his choices would take him. However, he knew that he would never know if he didn’t try.
“Yes, I am willing to accept your help. However, how do I know that I can trust you? I don’t know much about you, not even your name.” At this, the stranger grew silent, and the vivid green eyes seemed to sink into the smoke. The scent of that pipe-smoke seemed very, very familiar to Drake, but he still couldn’t place it. Finally, the stranger spoke again.
“I will follow you on your journey, young Drake, but if you wish to know more about me, so that you can trust me, I see no reason as to not help you with this matter.” The smoke rose from around the man’s head, and the cowled figure threw his cloak back, revealing a brass-colored face, lined as if the face was made of metal plates. Two particularly large plates came from around his eyes, and swept up above and behind his head, covering his temples. But the face wasn’t even human; it was elongated and looked vaguely horse-like, except for the reptilian nose and copper spikes that hung off of the tip of his chin. Its eyes were vividly green, and almost seemed to melt out of the brass plates around its face. When it spoke, it revealed teeth that looked to extend when he talked, and retract when he closed his mouth, which Drake noticed when he next spoke.
“Young Drake, I am like you, a half-blood of the Draconic race. I can never be as my full-blooded kin are, but I can be more than any man on the face of the Earth. You aren’t quite as advanced in the stage of re-awakening as I am, but you will find yourself looking like your father, or mother, when the time comes. You can trust me because I know what you are going through, and what you will go through, as you grow. I am here to help you, on behalf of the Court of Draconia, in a sense…” His voice seemed to drift, and Drake noticed that this stranger was staring deep into space.
“Um, pardon me, but what do you mean, ‘in a sense?’ And I still don’t have your name.” The half-dragon stopped staring off into space, and faced Drake again, a little more prominently than before.
“I am Lazourous, a half-dragon of the noble wyrm, Lesad. I will lead you to the Court, but I will have to let you cross the path to the Gate without me. I cannot go back there.”
“Why not?”
“It is not a thing I wish to talk about now. Maybe I will wish to talk to you about it later, but I do not wish to bring up my past right now. Well, I have reserved a room at the local inn for us to stay in, so if you and your friends would follow me, we can rest for the night.” Drake nodded, now accepting that this newfound friend was one of his kin, and let Lazourous lead the way, to collect his friends and go to the local inn to sleep for the night.
by Drake_the_Windseeker
Written by admin on September 10th, 2006 with
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