Relics and Runes Anthology

by Heather Marie Adkins

  He blinked and returned to the present, mildly surprised to remember he was sitting on Risper's back. The memory lingered in the front of his mind. Understanding the implications of his mother's words had taken a long time. Now they were mixed with the refugees' account of people being forced to convert to Euru.

  He'd never given much thought to religion. His mother had wanted her son to share her faith in Euru, but had never tried to impress it onto anyone else. As a boy, he'd played with friends who had all sorts of beliefs, and some had none. It hadn't seemed to matter any more than the colour of anyone's skin, or if they preferred pink flowers to yellow ones. Truthfully, Traven's yardstick for friendship was how obsessed someone else was with dragons. The more, the better in his eyes, although he'd had a friend whose passion was swords. All she'd wanted to do was fight with sticks, and pretend she was a soldier.

  "Why would you want to be a soldier when you could be a draakin," he'd asked.

  "I don't want to be a draakin," she'd said, and danced away to parry with a tree.

  He smiled, although he couldn't recall her name anymore. Had she become a soldier? Women sometimes did, although it wasn't common. If she had, he hoped she worshipped Euru. Of all the gods in the four kingdoms, Euru was the only one who promised to return people to a new life after death. The rest simply offered an end. Why learn a lifetime of lessons only to have nothing to show for it? Granted, the priests had never said what happened to a person's memories after they died, Travin had long ago decided that some of that must stay with a person as they were reborn. Otherwise, what was the point of rebirth?

  "We're almost there." Laynin's voice, spoken suddenly after at least an hour of silence, startled him.

  He looked down, surprised to see the road heading north into Tsaisa beneath them. Ahead, he made out the towering Dragonhall and the town nestled at its feet. He imagined it crumbling like the one in Kaylis and grimaced. Such a grand structure deserved to be taken care of. He couldn't imagine a day when the hall wasn't bustling as it was now, dragons coming and going, people hurrying about on a variety of tasks.

  "Is Nehko there?" Travin asked. If the great creature was, then the chance that Ara was waiting were increased.

  "Yes." Laynin sighed. "Risper says Ara wants to see me immediately."

  Travin's heart sank. He wasn't sure knowing her family was safe would be much consolation for whatever she might be facing now.

  Risper winged toward the courtyard and landed neatly. Travin expected to see Ara herself standing there, tapping her foot and glaring. It wasn't until they'd released their straps and Laynin removed Risper's saddle that the draakin leader appeared.

  Travin saw her step through a doorway and licked his lips. It might have been easier had she looked furious, and straight away begun to shout.

  Instead, Ara's face was calm, almost expressionless, but for her eyes. Those looked like chips of ice, flashing with lightning upon seeing them both standing there.

  Wind from Risper's wake ruffled his hair as the dragon leapt and headed for the roof. Good for him, he could make his escape. Travin was only able to stand and try to keep from looking down at his feet.

  "Travin," she said cooly, addressing him first. "Laynin, where have you been?"

  "Good afternoon, Ara," Laynin replied, her voice almost matching her leader's for evenness. Only the rise in pitch as she said the woman's name betrayed her nerves. "We went south seeking information."

  The look Ara gave them said she knew perfectly well where they'd been. She listened as Laynin told her about their journey, leaving out only any mention of Travin's magic. She spared him a glance once or twice, so he knew the omission was deliberate. Under the circumstances, it was probably wise.

  Once she was finished speaking, Ara turned back to him. "I'm having a difficult time understanding why you should remain as a hopeful. Do you understand the stupidity of endangering a dragon?"

  "Yes, draakin," he replied politely, looking at Laynin. "I thought perhaps it would take two to keep him, and his draakin, safe."

  Laynin snorted. "We weren't in any danger. But Travin's right, he did come to help me. However, it was all my idea."

  He opened his mouth to protest, but she gave him a stern look and he fell silent. Perhaps she assumed Ara would only punish him lightly if she took the blame. That didn't sit right with him, but he saw her determination.

  "I assume you have a mind of your own," Ara said curtly, "however Nehko has spoken to Risper, who assures him that your intentions were noble. You're very lucky you weren't in danger, or worse, killed."

  "Yes, draakin," he agreed.

  "We know more now than we knew before," Laynin said.

  "To what end?" Ara replied, "it's not our business. Now, Travin, I'll ask you leave us now. I'll consider your status as a hopeful, although I'm sure it won't matter any time soon. I advise you to reconsider before you undertake any future foolhardy journeys."

  "Yes, draakin," he said, looking as contrite as he could. At least he got to ride on a dragon. He glanced at Laynin.

  She grimaced and said, "Thank you for coming with me."

  He nodded to her, gave Ara a bow and headed toward the door. He felt bad for leaving, but as Ara started a tirade aimed at the younger draakin, he couldn't help but feel slightly relieved. Hopefully he'd have a chance later to make it up to Laynin for having hurried off and letting her face the music alone.

  16

  The Tsaisan temple dedicated to Euru was small, just a single story, maybe half the size of the tavern. Gallia joked that it was smaller because more people wanted to drink than worship a god. Travin wasn't sure she was wrong. At this time of day, the tavern would be packed, or close to it.

  The temple, on the other hand, contained a handful of worshippers and a priest standing before them, delivering a sermon in a soothing tone. It was much more what Travin needed right now.

  He pulled a cushion over from where they were stashed in a corner and sat cross-legged, his hands on his knees. His mind tossed and turned, but he closed his eyes and focused on the priest's words and his own breathing.

  "Friends," the priest said, "do you believe in love? Love is one of the strongest forces in our world. Stronger than the sword, stronger than the fist. Stronger—" his voice rose "—than the blood of kings."

  Travin noted, with some amusement, that he didn't claim it to be stronger than dragons. Perhaps in a town full of draakin, it wouldn't be considered wise. He forced back the smile and returned his mind to the priest's words.

  "Euru sees into your heart and knows your heart and your mind. Euru wants you to feel love. Love for each other, love for yourself, and overall, love for Euru. In return, Euru loves you.

  "In every moment of every day, Euru knows what you are doing, if you're being kind and understanding. Euru sees you sharing the word, and smiles."

  Travin smirked. Sharing the word of Euru hadn't been high on his list of priorities lately. Or ever. Perhaps he should have taken the time to speak to the refugees. They might have understood that Euru was a far better option than fleeing their homes. In spite of the twinge of guilt, Travin would never try to coerce anyone like that. Besides, it was Rosharias' men they were fleeing from, not Euru. In time, they would come to see that.

  "There are those who proclaim that Euru beckons believers to their death," the priest declared. The congregation rumbled with annoyance.

  "We know better," he continued. "Euru doesn't seek your death. Euru wants you all to live a long life so you may pass on the word, and then Euru will bring you back in a desirable form."

  As a child, Travin wanted to be a dragon. How long would he have to preach to come back as one of those? Fortunately, his dreams were more realistic now; he just wanted to bond one.

  He sighed to himself. Thanks to his reckless curiosity, he might not even get the chance to do that.

  "Go forth friends, share the word and love of Euru with your friends, family, strangers. Your generosity will be rewarded." He
nodded to them and the congregation rose and began to leave.

  After a couple of minutes, Travin became aware that only he and the priest remained. As the temple never closed, and worshippers or potential worshippers were always welcome, he didn't hurry to leave. Instead, he sat with his eyes closed, listening to the quiet and trying to relax his turbulent mind.

  "Is all well, my friend?" The priest's voice startled him into opening his eyes. The man sat on a cushion a metre away, his face full of concern.

  "In a manner of speaking, friend," Travin replied, "I've seen and heard some things today which I found troubling."

  "Euru always listens to those who speak and seek guidance," the priest said, "and doesn't share with others what was said."

  Travin nodded. Euru might not, but he wasn't sure the priest was as trustworthy. At any rate, he told him about the day he'd had and how scared the refugees looked. The priest looked genuinely surprised, and troubled too.

  "I cannot condone killing in the name of Euru," the priest said, his brow deeply furrowed. "However, do you not think it best if everyone understood, and followed the true path to rebirth? Would you condemn them to eternal sleep and darkness?"

  Travin rubbed his face. "No, of course not. Just dying seems like such a waste."

  "Indeed it is," the priest agreed.

  Remembering his thought of maybe an hour earlier, Travin asked, "Friend, are our memories reborn with us?"

  The priest looked uncertain for a moment, then replied, "Only the ones Euru deems worthy."

  That seemed like a very diplomatic answer, but likely the only one Travin would get. It wasn't his place to question Euru anyway, he supposed.

  "So what do we do?" he asked. "I know it's best to worship Euru, but shouldn't it be up to each person to decide that for themselves?"

  The priest laughed. "Not always," he replied to Travin's surprise. "It's not up to us to choose the path Euru puts us on, that's Euru's decision. To ask if people have a choice is to suggest we know better than our god. Is that something you think you believe?"

  Travin snorted, although he didn't much like the priest's accusatory tone. "Not at all. I'm just a humble bard."

  The priest looked at him through half-lidded eyes. "Then your path is clear, friend."

  "It is?" Travin wondered where this was headed.

  "Indeed it is. You must sing of Euru, and share the word that way. People listen to bards, they heed your words. Song is a powerful medium in which to build trust and understanding,"

  "I…suppose so," Travin replied uncertainly. "Tavern goers usually don't like being told what to think."

  "Then you must work with subtlety," the priest replied easily. "For the sake of Euru, and all the people of the four kingdoms—" He hesitated. "Three kingdoms. For everyone's chance at rebirth, you must try. Euru will thank you for every person you save. Think of your next life, and how grand it might be."

  Travin knitted his brows. So much for preaching love. He'd never thought of rebirth into wealth, but apparently the priest had. He supposed there were greedy people wherever one went.

  Doubtless Euru had a plan.

  "I suppose I could try to write a song of some kind," he conceded. "I'm not sure any words rhyme with rebirth. Except girth."

  The priest chuckled. "Dearth?" he suggested. "Mirth? Although that may not be suitable for a serious song. And it must be serious. These are serious times. Music for enjoyment is all very well, but bards have a duty to make people think."

  Travin doubted people having a night out at the tavern, full of wine or ale, would agree with that assumption. They wanted to unwind, to forget their woes, not to be preached at. Still, maybe he could write something thought-provoking but subtle.

  "Worth might work." he said, his mind composing a tune already. "I should get started on writing it."

  "Go with love, friend." The priest rose and gave a shallow bow.

  "And you also, friend." Travin got to his feet and placed the cushion back on the pile. His mind was in as much turmoil as it had been, but he had some direction and a measure of excitement. The latter, he always felt when he had a new song forming in his mind. It itched at the side of his head, urging him to let it out, to make it into something more than just an idea. His mother would have said that it came from Euru, and that the god was flowing through him. Sometimes it did feel like that— like the song wasn't his, he was just a bridge to bring it across from Euru's plane to this.

  Whatever the case, it made his steps faster as he walked toward his lodgings. Judging by the sun, he'd have to work quickly or he'd have no time to catch some sleep before work.

  17

  "What in the name of All the Gods were you thinking?" Ara demanded, her hands on her hips, eyes furious. Her face was flushed in a way Laynin rarely saw. That look was usually reserved for times of high emotion.

  "I was—"

  Evidently the question was rhetorical, as Ara didn't give her a chance to answer it.

  "Alvarios was invaded only a couple of months ago. Do you grasp what that means? People died. They died because they were killed by invaders."

  "I know, that's why I—"

  Again, Ara cut her off. "Has Risper told you nothing of past conflicts? There's a very good reason why we stay out of the business of the rest of the kingdoms. Even Marth." She whirled away, took a few steps and turned back. "The last time, dragons died. The draakin made the choice to get involved and dozens were killed. Dozens! Can you imagine that happening again? There would be none left."

  She rubbed the tip of her nose with her thumb and forefinger as she did when agitated.

  "I just needed to check on my family," Laynin argued, finally getting a word in. "No one in the area was fighting. The only armed people we saw were on the border."

  "Because you got lucky," Ara replied. "You had no idea what you might find down there, did you?"

  "No, but…" Laynin swallowed. "We were alert for any trouble. For the most part, we didn't see anyone."

  "As far as you know," Ara pointed out, her tone scathing. "Can you guarantee you weren't seen by Rosharias' men? Can you assure me, with absolute confidence that your presence wasn't perceived as a threat? Or an act of war?"

  Laynin's mouth dropped open. She started to stammer a reply, but realised she didn't really have one. At least, not one which would satisfy Ara.

  "No, I can't," she said finally. Her shoulders sagged. All she'd thought about was her family, and how nice it was to fly in the company of someone else who appreciated dragons as much as she did. "I was just worried about them."

  Ara sighed. "I appreciate that, but it is entirely beside the point. Had Risper come under attack, we might have lost him. If he managed to land, you might survive, but what would your life be without him?"

  Laynin blinked back tears. "I don't want to imagine it."

  "Of course you don't." Ara's tone was softer now, but still laced with steel. "But you need to. Anyone who would attack a dragon isn't going to hesitate to hesitate to kill you. Or worse."

  Laynin recoiled at that idea. She knew none of the kings permitted the violation of women or men, but during wartime, such things occurred more often. It was unlikely she'd live long enough to bear witness against any attackers.

  "Furthermore," Ara continued, "you took this ill-considered jaunt while I wasn't here, because you were well aware that I would never endorse such a thing. That might be the most difficult aspect in all of this. You knew I'd say no, so you took off behind my back. I thought better of you. Why, after all, would I have entrusted you to oversee the bonding? I thought you were one of my more reliable, mature draakin. Then you go and do this." She threw her arms up to either side.

  "How am I to ever trust you again?"

  Laynin's mouth went dry and she looked at the ground. She'd fully expected to be reamed, but not this. Ara was right. She'd always been the reliable one, the one people turned to when they had a problem because they knew she'd listen and not run off to tell the ent
ire town their business.

  "I'm sorry," she muttered.

  "You let me down, Laynin. You let yourself and Risper down as well." Laynin glanced up as Ara looked toward the roof. "He should have known better as well, but he was only doing as you asked." She frowned and then sighed. "I have no choice but to ground you."

  "Yes, Ara," Laynin said, hoping her meek tone might translate to a lessening of the sentence.

  "Until further notice," Ara added, to Laynin's chagrin. That could be days, or months, if not longer. "This extends to both of you."

  Laynin groaned.

  Ara ignored her. "You may bring food here for Risper. He may not hunt. Nehko will reinforce that order, in case you choose to defy it. He may, however, fly a short distance to relieve his bowels. There's no point in punishing everyone." She smiled faintly.

  "However, you will assist the new draakin to clean up after the dragonets until they're old enough to fly a reasonable distance."

  "Yes, Ara." Laynin grimaced. Dragon droppings were rarely something a draakin had to deal with, and that was fine with most of them.

  Ara tapped her nose with her finger. "After that, you can help the kitchen staff with cleaning and drying dishes. You seem to enjoy doing that. I'm sure I'll think of other tasks which will keep you suitably occupied."

  Laynin nodded and started to turn away.

  Before she could, Ara called, out, "How are your family?"

  Laynin turned back. "They're fine for now, but I'm worried about them. Alvarios was invaded after all," she said ironically.

  Ara smirked. "Indeed it was. I hope they remain safe."

  "So do I," Laynin replied softly. "So do I." She shrugged off her jacket and slung it over her arm before heading for the stairs which led directly to the roof. On wet days, they became slick and treacherous, but since it hadn't rained for days she was able to trot up to the top.

  Risper lay curled up, his head resting on his forelegs, eyes half-closed as he regarded her.