As Irirnan ran out of air for the second time, Tresimiaset thought it was time she took control of the situation. Really, this young dragon had no diplomacy at all. Briefly glancing at the elder dragons, she wondered if they would have used a different tactic. Listening to their mental conversation, she realized they all lacked knowledge of what she was, and so approved of the rapid-fire questions from the young dragon. In fact, the older dragons were steadily volunteering more questions for Irirnan to ask. No diplomacy at all. Not one of these young ones had even introduced themselves. If not for the ability to follow them mentally, she would not know any of their names.
As it was, she knew that the one dragon they called Kirrilla was bonded to the fire walker she most wanted to meet. She could see the faintest mark upon her soul thread, which gave evidence she was bonded to one with the goddess mark. Ariannia left such a beautiful mark upon her chosen ones that it bled through the bond when the chosen one was bonded to a dragon. But meeting anyone, even Malory, was going to have to wait until she had answers. Her memories had stopped when her slumber started, and did not begin again until the dreams started, which had been a few months ago. She estimated it had been about three, maybe four months of dreams of the portal and Malory. If she had dreamed before those dreams, she did not remember them. Ariannia always promised her pleasant dreams, but those were the one thing she could never remember when she awoke.
Deciding to forgo verbal speech, Tresimiaset spoke directly into the mind of all twelve dragons. When the first words were mentally heard by all, they tried to draw back even further from her, but had left themselves no where to go. She could feel the surprise in their minds as they processed her words. With a perfect memory, she began with the first question she had been asked.
“My name is Tresimiaset. The goddess Ariannia created me. I am here because I have always been here, ever since the people first came here through the portals. You could say I came through the portal—just not the portal you have now. I created the portal that brought the people to this planet. Ah, Malory… Malory used magic and blood to create the portal—he used my blood, which created the link you feel. I am colorful because that is how Ariannia created me. I do not take my colors from walking the portals; the portals get their colors from me. There are no other dragons like me, I am unique. As far as what I am doing in this cave, Ariannia created it just for me. I am The Planet Walker, and since my slumber has ended, it must be time for us to leave this planet. Now, I believe it is my turn to ask questions.”
As soon as she had said the words Planet Walker, the young ones began to speak—all twelve of the young ones, all at the same time. She took a deep breath and just waited. From what she was hearing, the young ones were undecided about what to do. The words myths and legends were being tossed around many times by each of the dragons. Apparently her slumber had been long enough this time that to them, a Planet Walker was a mere myth. From what she was hearing, though, portals were also considered myths, until earlier today when the first portal was encountered by Irirnan and Kirrilla. It was interesting that none of the other dragons outside the four very youngest were even aware of the portal until the memory ceremony had occurred earlier that day. She was finding out quite a bit of information without having to ask the first question.
A fleeting thought about how long it would take for the young ones to wind down crossed her mind. It was followed by the thought that the elder of the young ones did not care to be called ‘young one.’ The very youngest the elders could be at this point was seven thousand years old if the Deyarians still wove the soul threads the same as before her last slumber. She would listen and wait.
Two hours later, Tresimiaset was still waiting. She had to admit she was more confused now than when she had first awoken from her slumber. She did not know how long she had slumbered, but something was seriously wrong in this time. The bond that should exist with the youngest of these young dragons seemed frayed. She wondered how much of that was caused by the goddess Ariannia. It would appear that the one called Darian was impulsive and got himself in trouble frequently. Well, that did tend to happen when Ariannia put her mark upon one. Ariannia was a bit impulsive herself. That impulsiveness was what had started the original feud with her uncle that led to the problems in the first place.
Tresimiaset could understand the others’ frustration with Darian—the gods were frequently frustrated with Ariannia, but most forgave her because she had such a gentleness to her. It appeared the ones in this time were not so forgiving of Darian. Well, that would change over time. After all, if there was one thing Tresimiaset had learned though the millions of years, it was that anyone Ariannia put her touch upon was important, or would become important to the Deyarian race. He was Ariannia’s chosen one for this time.
What Tresimiaset had the biggest problem with was the elder of the twelve dragons. They were bonded tightly, as befit Lyra-bonded dragons, but they seemed to defer to the youngest dragons. Why this was happening was confusing, and nothing she had heard was helping her to understand the situation. That was not how it worked or should work. What kind of changes had occurred while she slumbered? And how long was it going to take her to fix it? She was definitely going to have to fix this situation—it made no sense for elders to defer to the youngsters.
The arguing was beginning to tire her out. She was certainly not used to this much arguing among the small dragons. Two planets back, arguments had happened, but that was because Ariannia had twisted things to split her people, and twice the number of dragons had been born at the same time. Of course the Lyra had been doubled on that planet, and things were pretty hostile for a couple thousand years. Ariannia had woken her from her slumber that time just days before eight eggs had been laid and two Lyra had been conceived. Interesting times, but then any time Ariannia woke her from her slumber was interesting. It always meant it was time to move, or would be time to move soon, give or take a couple of thousand years. It appeared that this time, it was time to move immediately—and Tresimiaset had a problem with immediately.
Memories arose when she thought about not moving immediately. Ariannia had promised her thousands of years, but not on this planet. Well, that changed things. Move they would, as soon as she fixed whatever problem these young dragons appeared to have. Maybe a better solution would be to shield the young ones until she could get all the information from them she needed and then put them to sleep for a little while. She was going to need their memories, and for that she needed a memory stone. It was a very good thing she had the ability to make memory stones, because she was not ready to go to the tower yet. She did not need to be in the location of the tower to access anyone’s memories.
Since it seemed the young ones had completely forgotten about her, she decided it was time to divert their attention back to her. She began to rhythmically tap one claw on the floor beneath her. A steady tap-tap-tap soon had one young dragon after another faltering to a halt and turning to face her. Once she had everyone’s attention, she grinned a very toothy grin. The small ones seemed to shrink a bit, and one lifted off as if to leave.
“Settle back down, I said at least two hours ago that it was my turn. Now I have listened to you argue and discuss, and argue some more, and I have had enough. It is time for you to listen to me—it is past time. I am The Planet Walker—I am not a myth, and you would do well to quit referring to me as a myth when you are talking about me.” At that pronouncement, one of the others attempted to speak, but since Tresimiaset was not done, she quickly shut down their ability to communicate, both verbally and mentally.
“Yes, I can hear you, I have heard every single word since before you entered my cave. Yes I just took your ability to communicate away from you. You have communicated enough, without saying anything of value. I need information, and I am getting precious little of the information I need with all this blathering. What I am getting is information I could have done without. The main bit of information I have gathered is the way everyone defers
to the youngest of the dragons. That makes no sense, and you will stop it—and I do not mean eventually—I mean now. It is not acceptable. If you think that I will defer to any one of you, then you’d better find a good hiding place because it will not be pretty.” She could tell she had surprised the others, but she was not certain just which part of her announcement had surprised them the most. And since she was not letting them communicate, she would not find out.
Having made a decision to get their memories first and then figure out what to do next, Tresimiaset looked around. With one last thought regarding those in the cave, she turned and headed into the back part of her cave, around a bend and out of the others’ sight. A few minutes later, she returned with a large memory stone, which she laid in the center of the cave.
Irirnan had to admit he was confused. After discussing it with the others, before the big dragon took away their ability to communicate, he knew he was not the only one confused. And now it seemed they had lost whatever chance they had to ask questions. He had tried to leave—he thought it would be best to let the Lyra know what was going on. He did not know how, but they could not leave, nor could he send any messages to the Lyra. He was more than a little frightened. At four-thousand years old, nothing should really frighten him, but facing a myth who had such power seemed to have pushed a scare button he did not even know he had. He watched as the strange dragon returned to the center of the cave with a memory stone.
Where she had gotten a memory stone was a mystery, and Irirnan did not like mysteries. He liked to understand the world around him, but his world had just been turned upside down. He did not like it one little bit. He did not understand why the new dragon insisted it was not right for the others to defer to him and his siblings. It was right, it was their Lyra who were the leaders of the Deyarian race, and everyone deferred to the leaders. That was the way it had always been.
Planet Walkers were myths, but it appeared that today was the day for myths to come to life, in more ways than one. First the portal, and now it seemed they had awoken the portal maker. But if she created the portals, and she had been asleep, then how did they have a portal sitting in the middle of the gathering room? He glanced over at Kirrilla. Darian was not going to like this new development. Darian liked things nice and simple, and if the truth was known, with Darian’s ability to screw things up, everyone else liked things to be nice and simple around Darian. Darian seemed to have an unusual logic that just did not really work with the real world.
Tresimiaset was motioning one of the others toward the memory stone, and he thought he best pay close attention to what what about to happen. Sarian would want to know everything if they ever got out of this cave. As Tresimiaset began to speak, everyone gave her their full attention.
“I have decided the best way for me to get the information I need is to have you share your memories. Each of you will contribute one drop of blood to the stone, and when I can process all your memories, I will figure out my next move.”
Irirnan drew back in surprise; one drop of blood would not tell much. Everyone knew it took more than a single drop of blood for memories to be shared. Maybe this dragon was not so smart after all. He watched as one by one, each of the others approached the stone and used a claw to draw blood. They each allowed one drop of to fall upon the stone. By the body language of the others, he knew he was not the only one questioning the request. He did not know where this new dragon had really come from, but she appeared to be lacking in some very common knowledge. After everyone was done, including him, they were treated to another unusual event. Tresimiaset took the memory stone and ate it. He looked at Jade, and then over at Kirrilla, to see that both had narrowed eyes with just a hint of disbelief—if he was reading them correctly. It was a feeling more than anything else, but he knew his siblings well, and they were just as confused as he was.
***
Irirnan shifted his feet. They had been standing in the same place watching Tresimiaset for at least an hour, maybe more. She had swallowed the stone and closed her eyes, and had yet to open them again. He had shared glances with the others many times now, and even resorted to what was a very Deyarian body expression—shrugging. Not being able to communicate was going to drive him insane soon. He really needed to know what was going on.
Finally Tresimiaset opened her eyes and glared at him—well not just him, all of them. She seemed to glare more at Kirrilla than at any of the others, enough that Kirrilla had finally shuffled to hide behind the others. He did not know what that memory stone had shown this dragon, but he did not think it could have been good. He searched his memories for something that could have prompted that glare, but came up empty. The only thing he could think of was Darian, especially since the glare seemed directed at Kirrilla the most. Of course it would be Darian; even though this new dragon had never met Darian, he had still apparently managed to cause problems for them. At that thought, he turned to glare at Kirrilla himself, and noticed he was not the only one. It baffled him how one such as Darian could have been born to be a fire-walker; maybe it baffled the large colorful myth in front of him as well. At that thought, the ancient dragon turned to glare at him. Perhaps it would do well for him to remember she specifically told them she could hear their thoughts, and did not want to be referred to as a myth anymore. Oops.
Tresimiaset was baffled. She had heard Irirnan’s thoughts, and he was right. She was baffled and very unhappy, and more than a little confused. She wondered just how long she had slumbered this time. It must have been hundreds of thousands of years. Much longer than she originally thought. Looking at the memories from the twelve in front of her, she had found that the very land had changed considerably, even before the comet three years previously. The leadership had also undergone some drastic changes. They seemed to have several things completely backwards. Well that would have to change whether anyone liked it or not. She really wished they would quit thinking of her as a myth—Darian’s dragon Kirrilla had even thought of her as The Destroyer. How that story got started was a mystery. It seemed the dragons had forgotten over time how to refresh their memories, and these youngsters had just fragments of the memories they should have had.
Tresimiaset did not know if the tower was degrading that much, or just what the problem was. Her first thought was that she was going to have to freshen the tower, followed by her second thought, which was that this particular tower was going to be abandoned when they moved, so refreshing it would be a waste of time. She was going to have to build a new one on the new planet anyway.
With a huge sigh, Tresimiaset settled down in the center of the cave and released the others’ ability to communicate, but only within the cave. It did not take them long to figure out they could communicate, and it took them little time after that to figure out they could only communicate with her or each other. It did not take them much longer than that to find out they still could not leave. This time, though, they did not argue with each other—this time, they turned to her and hesitantly took turns asking her questions. The ones she could answer, she did, but for each question they asked her, she asked several in return.
***
Two weeks later, they were still discussing history, and they had finally started covering present events. The days were filled with various discussions, and twice she left the cave to fetch animals for them to eat. The discussions came to an abrupt halt the day she felt a disturbance at the Watch Tower. Far too many people had just approached it, disappeared, and then even more people had appeared around it. The disturbance was new, and very unwelcome. The tower was not designed for so many people to have access to it‚—this she knew because she had helped build it. Her memories gave it life, and this many people around the tower was a threat to its very fabric. She was going to have to leave, to find out just what was going on outside. She was far more prepared than she had been two weeks ago. Quickly making a decision, she told the others what was going on. She told them they would have to stay until she had things closer to
the way she wanted them. No one was very happy with her decision, but being considerably more knowledgeable now than when they had first arrived, they accepted it. It was not as if they had much choice.
As Tresimiaset left, she found herself looking forward to meeting the one called Darian. She just knew that meeting was going to be interesting.
***
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Author Notes
What an adventure this has been. When I first started this series I never dreamed I would one day be living my dream. Telling stories to other people, doing something I love. You know they say if you do something you love you will never work a day in your life. Well let me tell you that is just a lie. You will work your butt off, but you will enjoy the work. Some days I spend upwards of fifteen hours working on my dream. The stories set in the Deyarian Universe have been kicking around in my head since 2007, I just didn’t know what to do with them. Thanks to some excellent mentors who guided me, I figured it out and now here we are two years later.
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