It was plain to see that the man had a purpose and was going to carry it out. Aeron remembered bonding Anaya and the absolute certainty he had that he would find a way to stay in the Caer and stay with Anaya. That had been a beginning of a sort. He spent a few moments recalling all that he and she had been through.
Only intending to spend a the requisite five minutes in contemplation at each station before moving on, there was the meeting to get to, Aeron found he couldn’t take his mind from the theme.
Beginnings were easy, he thought, and also, difficult. It was easy to rush into something, easy to plunge headlong. But for most people, if you wanted to accomplish anything great, you had to think about your purpose. You needed to plan. Was that what the walking stick represented? Planning? After all, if you were going to wander about in the wilds of the desert, a staff could come in very useful. And not just for walking, either. The wooden cane bore a strong resemblance to a bo.
Of course, if all you did was plan, if you got lost in trying to think of every little thing, you’d never get started. Eventually, you had to trust that you’d prepared as best you could and you had to just get going. Start. Do it. Try. The waterskin falling free might represent letting go of the need to plan every single thing. It was holding Daelon back, so he was willing to leave it behind.
Then again, even with determination in your heart and a well-thought plan, you could still face obstacles out of your control. Other people. Your own doubts. Pure, blind, shitty luck. Any number of things could stand in your way, holding you back from your goals. Maybe that was what the wind blowing Daelon’s robes represented, obstacles that could keep him from moving forward on his chosen path. Even so, he was ignoring them and taking that step forward.
Aeron nodded. Yes. You had to move forward, had to keep trying.
He ended up spending a good amount of time at each station. As Renata and Polandra had talked to him about them, had explained the themes, he hadn’t really thought about any of it in detail. He’d just memorized things and moved on. But here, now, with these incredible statues and the serene surroundings, he found something to think on at each.
The shrine had nothing in it singing the Order’s praises. It had nothing specifically about the Order at all. There were themes—The Beginning, Doubt, A Test, and such—but nothing blatantly attempting to engender sympathy. It just showed a man’s journey, in worked stone. And yet, it was still able to inspire you. Not to join the Order, not to give them obedience or money or anything, just to be a better person.
Aeron was astonished. He’d talked about how the Order was good at its core before, but the shrine showed a level of understanding of struggle and survival and just being alive that he did not expect. If everyone in the Order felt this way, his job was mostly done. Then again, if they all felt this way, how could they continue on their current path?
Aeron mulled this question as he made his way to the Garden of Reflection. Finding an empty bench along the fence far from other people, he sat and stared at the line of purple-tinted hills to the south, thinking.
How is it that the organization that created this shrine continues to think that killing dragons is okay?
“It is peaceful here, is it not?”
Aeron looked up.
A man sat next to him on the bench. His robe was red, which was one of the ways Aeron was to know Capu Cirtis, but there had been others in red robes. This man looked older than Isandath, but he had a similar air about him.
“I, ah, yes. Yes it is.”
“You are not from here.”
Shit!
What is wrong?
“And yet, you know our customs. You visited each station, performed the proper obeisances, and, from appearances, it seems you really thought on the theme of each. You show proper respect.”
Aeron, what is wrong?
Perhaps nothing. One moment. Aeron took a breath. Was this Capu Cirtis? “I had good teachers.”
“Oh?”
“Two of my friends explained what Daelon’s Shrine is, and what showing proper respect involves.”
“Renata and Polandra.” The man nodded.
It might be him. It better be him, or Aeron was in trouble.
“It is good they found you.” The man glanced at Aeron. “I have to admit to being surprised that you would show any respect at all, considering Takatin’s plan for your, ah, friend.”
It was Capu Cirtis. Relief washed over Aeron like cool rain. “While there is much the Order does that I do not agree with, and I do feel that Takatin should be punished for what nearly happened to Anaya, there is no reason for me to be disrespectful here.” Aeron glanced back at the closest station. “And I have to say, whoever carved the statues must be a master at their craft. They are spectacular.”
“They are, aren’t they? It was a couple that sculpted them.”
“There is one thing I don’t understand, though.”
“What is that?”
“How could a place like this have been created by the Corpus Order? Daelon’s Shrine practically begs you to chase your dreams, to try against any odds, to just be a better person. The Order, on the other hand . . .”
“The Corpus Order isn’t inherently evil. There is much we do that is good.”
“Yes. But I know how you recruit, and about pesani and how they are sent down, and how crusani are treated, and—” Aeron shook his head. Arguing with the man was not the reason he came down here. “Why did you want to meet with me? Am I not the thing the Order hates?” He lowered his voice. “A dragon sympathizer? And worse yet, I have a dragon. Though, ‘have’ is nowhere near the right word.”
“The Order must change or it will die.” Capu Cirtis clasped his hands in his lap. “As you know so much about us, I assume you know of the Hour of Creation?”
“Yes. And I know it is a lie.”
“An embellishment.”
“A lie.”
“While a word was added and a few were removed, the consensus has been that the change only made the implied specific.”
Aeron was about to argue the point, but Capu Cirtis held up his hand.
“Whatever the case may be, however, the essence of what we do is correct. The why of its alteration is lost to history, but the need for our core purpose, fighting the monsters Yrdra created, is implied in the original. If we were not meant to defend against Yrdra’s gift, why would Ulthis have given us his own to do so?”
“But Dragons are not what she created. Dragons are people.”
“Dragons are dragons.”
Aeron sighed. “Everyone seems to have difficulty believing. If I could introduce you to Anaya, my bond-mate, you’d understand. Dragons are thinking, caring beings. They don’t even want to hurt humans. Their purpose is to help us fight nahual.”
“Nahual?”
“Those beasts that have been attacking people in the villages.”
“Ah. We had no name for them.”
“You want to kill Yrdra’s creatures? Kill nahual. They are her creation, not dragons. If anything, dragons are Ulthis’s gift. The original text says that his gift was attuned to the magic she used. Well dragons and their bond-mates can sense nahual. We can actually feel their presence from ten miles away, like a kind of pulsing limb. No one else can do that.”
Capu Cirtis stared at him. “You are very well informed. And if what you say is true, it is beyond tragic.”
“You’ve been killing the very gift Ulthis gave us to fight Yrdra’s true creations.”
Capu Cirtis turned toward the hills, brows drawn together.
From here, the hills seemed so much smaller than when he and Polandra had ridden along them in their search for the truth of Ghost Flats. Distance could certainly change your perception of things.
He turned to the man. “Capu? You said that the Order must change. What exactly did you have in mind?”
A wry smile lifted the corner of Capu Cirtis’s lips. “If only I had more direct power, we might not be in this position.
Still, I’ve worked for some years, trying to change the attitudes of our members.” He turned and gestured to the stations behind them. “For instance, I spearheaded the drive to commission this shrine twenty years ago.”
“You did?” Aeron’s brows lifted.
“Indeed. And that you found so much in it reassures me. I wanted Daelon’s Shrine to engender exactly the feelings you felt. The inspiration to be a better person. So much of how things are done in the Order actually emphasizes being selfish. I wanted there to be a counter to it.”
The stations had certainly made an impression on Aeron, and he hadn’t been brought up to even know who Daelon was.
“And, too, the efficiency of the Order’s past hunts for dragons has led to one good thing.”
Aeron frowned. “How can you talk so lightly of the slaughter of hundreds of living, thinking creatures?”
“I do not speak lightly of it. I merely acknowledge that it happened. The past cannot be changed, but in its zeal, the Order has worked against itself. The last dragon execution was decades ago. There has never been a time in the history of the Corpus Order where the number of members who have never seen a dragon has been so much greater than those who have.”
“So?”
“As a result, most don’t care one way or the other about dragons. Members so ambivalent about the current focus of our primary purpose can more easily be convinced that that focus is wrong.”
Aeron nodded. “I see.”
“And a good thing, too. When I heard of the formation of the Dragon Craft Guild, I knew time was short. That is why I sent the manis to speak with you. The Corpus Order must change the focus of its purpose, because you will not stand for it to continue killing dragons.”
“That’s right, I won’t stand for it, nor will any in the dragon guild.”
“Speaking with you has given me an idea about how we can go about changing the focus.”
I have waited far longer than a moment.
Gods, I’m sorry, dear-heart. I met Capu Cirtis and am talking with him.
Is he nice?
Actually, he is.
“Aeron?”
“Hmm?”
“You were . . . somewhere else.”
“My apologies, I was speaking with Anaya. She wondered how the meeting was going.”
“Speaking with her?”
“Yes. There is much about dragons that is not known by many. One such thing is that dragons and their bond-mates can speak with each other no matter the distance between them.”
“I heard nothing.”
“We can discuss draconic abilities later, for now, tell me about this idea you have on changing the Order.”
“Ah, well, that’s the beauty of my idea. It’s much easier pushing a rock down a hill than pushing it up. The Order is already changing, you see. It has been for years. We’re just going to hurry it along.”
When Aeron and Anaya returned to the stables, it seemed everyone who could was at the recap meeting.
“He confirmed a great deal of what we learned from Isandath,” Aeron said. “The last dragon they captured was executed something like forty years ago. In the intervening years, manisi numbers were allowed to dwindle as more new members were instead added to the farming sections. More agave grown meant more goods that could be sold. More money meant more niceties. Capu Cirtis said that some in the Order have gotten lazy and greedy.
“He also said that most members today have never even seen a dragon. He mentioned the faction that wants to end dragon hunts and focus instead on patrolling around Bataan-Mok and the villages to protect against crime and animal attacks.”
“Nahual?”
Aeron glanced at the Guildmaster. “Some of the attacks are from nahual, yes. Oh, and Capu Cirtis also confirmed what Stoltz said. With no dragons around, many are starting to think that nahual are the creatures Yrdra created.”
“That sentiment has been growing for years,” Renata said. “I remember hearing of a nahual attack while I was a pesan. Of course, we had no name for them then. But as hideous as it had been described as being, some thought the creature might be what Yrdra created instead of dragons.”
“And that,” Master Doronal said, “is why Capu Cirtis will get the manisi to focus their night patrols around the villages? The more nahual that are discovered and killed, the more people will know of them?”
“Exactly.” Aeron nodded. “We’ll fly the routes before the patrols, out of sight at altitude. If we find a nahual near a village, we’ll land somewhere safe and make our way there to help, if needed. We’ll keep at it until attitudes change enough. Then, he’ll start on the next part of the plan I told you about—introducing dragons, our dragons, to the people.”
“A bit like what you and the masters did with Anaya,” Sharrah said, smiling. “Isn’t it?”
Aeron chuckled. That first question and answer had been nerve-wracking.
“Not exactly,” Master Canneth said. “We don’t have a history of hatred for dragons.”
“True enough,” Guildmaster Millinith said. She turned to Aeron. “How long did Capu Cirtis think it would take before the dragon introduction?”
“He didn’t know.” Aeron shrugged. “Honestly, it’s something that would have to be gauged on a day-to-day basis, wouldn’t it?”
“I don’t like it being so open-ended,” Willem said. “Couldn’t we do something about that?”
“Like what?” Polandra asked.
“Instead of just helping if needed,” Willem said, “when we find a nahual, we tell the patrol where it is. We make sure they find it.”
“That could work,” Jessip said.
“Didn’t I hear that there were only a small number of manisi left in Bataan-Mok, though?” Fillion looked around.
“Yeah,” Aeron said. “Half were sent by Nesch Takatin to Ghost Flats. Why?”
“Won’t those patrolling the villages eventually start to recognize us? They might find it odd that the same people keep finding nahual.”
Master Doronal sat back in his chair. “We need to come up with a few pretexts. Reasons and stories as to who you all are and what you’re doing in the villages. It might even be best if you were to ask a villager to find the patrol instead.”
“The reasons need to be very good,” Guildmaster Millinith said. “We’d want to be sure the villagers we warn actually want to summon the patrols. The pretexts we come up with need to be able to light a fire under their feet, so to speak.”
Aeron’s brows rose. “Hang on. What if we had a way to summon the manisi without being seen?”
Master Canneth turned to him. “What do you mean?”
“Whistles.”
“Like the fire alarm?” Master Doronal tapped his fingers on the table. “That could work.”
Aeron sat forward. “Once we locate a nahual in a village, we find a villager and tell them to keep an eye on the thing while we fetch the patrol. We head toward the patrol, and when out of sight of the villager, we blow the whistle to summon the manisi. They will think the whistle is from another patrol asking for assistance with a nahual and come running.”
“So,” Guildmaster Millinith said,“you’re thinking of having Capu Cirtis equip and train the manis patrols with whistles?”
Aeron nodded to the Guildmaster. “Yeah. We’ll have our own whistles, of course. What do you think? A long blast followed by a short? It can be repeated a few times.”
“Why would the manisi even want to use whistles?” Polandra looked confused.
“We explain that they are tools to easily summon other members of their hand or any hand nearby for something that needs investigation or for something they need help with. The two-blast alarm is for nahual.”
“That’s actually a good idea,” Polandra said. “A hand usually splits up in a village, to cover ground more quickly. A whistle would be better than just yelling, and besides, depending on the pitch, a whistle can carry farther.”
“They’re used in many communities
and cities for precisely those reasons,” Master Doronal said. He turned to Aeron “I’m assuming that after summoning the patrol, you will fade into the trees, so to speak?”
“It will be at night, so it should be easy to find somewhere to hide. We’ll then watch to make sure they actually take care of the nahual.”
Renata looked skeptical. “Whistles aren’t the most concerning thing about this plan. Are you really going to leave some poor villager alone with a nahual?”
“Oh!” Aeron had forgotten to mention part of the plan. “We’ll put a barrier around the nahual so it can’t get away or hurt anyone. It’ll need to fully enclose the thing. The hand should arrive before the nahual can kill anyone, even should they attempt to drain someone.”
Renata nodded. “I see. And when the patrol gets there, the villager tells them exactly where the nahual is, and we remove the barrier while keeping in our hiding spot.”
Aeron smiled. “Exactly.”
“It’s risky,” Guildmaster Millinith said. “I don’t like the idea of getting that close to manisi.”
“I’m more concerned with the dragons being spotted,” Master Canneth said.
“It will be at night,” Aeron said, “and our dragons can tell if anyone is close. We should be able to avoid being seen.”
“Hemet is but a sliver now, and will be new at the end of the month,” Fillion said. “So for the next couple of weeks, the only illumination at night will be from stars and Duvin’s much weaker light.”
“That plenty enough illumination to be dangerous,” Guildmaster Millinith said, “and an enormous dragon-shaped hole in the sky where the stars are missing can be pretty obvious.”
“As Aeron mentioned,” Willem said, “the dragons will be able to tell where nearby people are, so we can descend from behind cover—trees, buildings, what-have-you—to land.”
The Guildmaster shook her head. “Even so—”
“Yes, there are risks,” Aeron said. “Nothing is without some kind of risk. But if we want to change the course of the Order, we must change the minds of their members and the people from the villages. They have to see the true evil they should be fighting.”
A Storm in the Desert: Dragonlinked Chronicles Voume 3 Page 35
