by B C Penling
He stood like that until Onute entered the room. Zen lowered his head in acknowledgement then resumed his forward facing stance. Lana didn’t giggle at Onute, even though his blonde and silver beard was still as bushy and full as it had been when she saw him relaxing in a room off the hall.
"Elders," Wringa addressed the others. "I called this council to determine an outcome which will make all of us content. Zen, as we are aware, was absent last night at the Coming of Age Ceremony."
Zen's stomach bit at him. The Coming of Age Ceremony, he had completely forgotten after finding Arbortown. It was bad enough that he missed it but what compounded it was he who was supposed to host the annual event. Zen was chosen to lead it months ago. Now, he’d certainly never be chosen to lead it ever again. The ceremony was for the underage wyverns’ transition to adulthood. It was then that they’d merge into wyvern society, get their own cave, and obtain their ranks; usually it was where their parents ranked so it was no surprise when that was announced.
"As you may have noticed,” she continued sharply. “He did not return alone. With him is an elvin child of whom he didn‘t have permission to bring to The Keep. Where, Zen, did you obtain her?"
The harsh stares, the disappointed scowls that he was all too familiar with, were all targeting him. Knowing that he messed up, Zen took a deep breath to calm himself. "I rescued her from the elvin city of Arbortown, Elder Wringa." Zen spoke strongly. His voice echoed around the room.
"So I see, young Zen. We are aware of the recent and unfortunate befalling of Arbortown from the scent we caught yesterday. Yet, I am curious as to why you did not leave the child in the care of her own kind."
Lana felt despair choking her again. The vision of her dead mother danced before her eyes and the cries of Lonen echoed in her ears. She tried hard to hold back her tears, but it was in vain. She looked down. Tears rolled off her cheek and landed in Zen's mane.
"They were decimated by the Warisai. I saw only Lana alive among the ruins," he answered.
"How do you know it was Warisai?" Elder Wringa asked.
"I smelled them, a scent I am not soon to forget. I saw them, the horrid creatures, when they attacked me."
Whispered discussions erupted around the room.
"Tell us of Arbortown, Zen. That should explain everything well enough," Onute said above the din.
Zen told his story of why he had gone to Arbortown the evening before last, what had happened there, and how he had acquired Lana. He finished solemnly and told them of the plateau overlooking Armalin where he entombed Mailaea.
The Elders silently exchanged glances.
"Are the Warisai still on Ancienta?" asked Grimwor, a very large and aged wyvern sitting beside Wringa. His azure scales were dull, likely ready to shed their outer layer. His gray-blue eyes were scrutinizing Zen.
"As far as I am aware of, yes," Zen stated. "They are likely still harvesting the..."
"We should hunt them down and rid Ancienta of these nuisances," Bremsha interrupted, blustering.
"We are too few. Why risk our numbers to fight things that won’t reach us in the Keep?" Grimwor said. "Besides, more will come to seek revenge and war. In their lands they are as prevalent as insects on a summer's evening. We lack the numbers to fight such a fight."
Many of the Elders nodded in agreement.
“If you remember,” Bremsha spoke up again. “Attacks like that led up to the Fae War. The sooner we stop them, the less fighting we have to do in the future.”
"What if we create a coalition, like we had during the War?" Onute said, his straw-like beard flapping stiffly. “Certainly we can get more to fight." He flicked his orange tail irritably.
"Whom do you suggest? Humans will never come to aid us wyverns. Felions are too busy enraptured by themselves to care of others. Elves were just annihilated by the Warisai's recent assault. This young elf is likely the last from Arbortown!” A thick, muscular wyvern with mottled gray scales motioned toward Lana with a flap of his left wing. His name was Helgash and Zen didn’t particularly care for him and his creepy ashen gray eyes. When you were the subject of their gaze, as Zen often was, they felt as if they’d bore a hole straight through without the need for a second glance.
Lana cried into her hands. Zen’s anger grew at the ignorance of the Elders. The Warisai would reach Bledsoe Keep sooner or later and the wyverns would suffer the same fate as the Arbortown elves.
"If we are not going to do anything about the Warisai we should block Keep's Road,” barked Shan, a female Elder that was the most beautiful shade of yellow Zen had ever seen. “We have no reason to keep it clear anymore since the elves are gone.”
“All in favor of blocking Keep’s Road?" Wringa said commandingly. Her question was followed by a round of ayes. "Zol,” she continued, "Have Bresh send his daughter to block the road with a mountain."
Zol rose moodily from his pouf and exited the chamber. Zen wasn’t happy with the outcome of the council. He was hoping the wyverns would, at the very least, chase the Warisai out of Ancienta. He was disappointed. Instead of fighting, they were hiding.
"As for the elvin child," Wringa continued after Zol returned. "I think it is in her best interest to live with her kin in the north. Any objections?" None of the Elders spoke up.
"I do," Zen said, loud and calm. All eyes turned to him. The Elders looked at him curiously.
"State your reasons, young Zen," Wringa said.
"Elders,” he addressed. “As you well know, elves come here twice a year for Conclave. I hosted Mailaea, Queen of Arbortown, for numerous years per her request. The elf I have with me is not just any elf plucked from the ruins. She’s Lana, daughter of Mailaea and Arloen. If there is one way we can show our friendship, it’s to allow her refuge within our walls. I wish for her to stay as a permanent guest here in Bledsoe Keep. She may house with me and I will assume full responsibility for her. I found her. In wyvern law it states that the founder is responsible and is therefore the adoptive parent."
The Elders exchanged glances. Then Wringa spoke, "She is not our kin. The law you quote was written to pertain to wyverns only."
"The law was never specific to any race or specie, Elder Wringa," Zen replied. He knew he was right. He studied the laws with Taurn, who was one of the six lawkeepers.
"Young Zen, our laws are in place to protect our wellbeing and our existence,” Wringa argued lamely. “There are elves to the north that will welcome her, care for her and educate her in the ways of her kin. We will supply provisions for the trip. And to see to it that she arrives safely, I appoint you, Zen, her escort and guardian."
"I'm not your kin and yet the rules and laws have applied to me." Zen was becoming ostentatious. “It is not written in the laws to exclude other races from adoptive sanctuary nor is it written to pertain solely to wyverns.”
The Elders looked at each other, knowing full well that he was right.
"You are much closer to our kin than an elf," Wringa began.
"But I am still not a wyvern, as you claim your laws only include. Even Queen Lana can see that she is being singled out," Zen said.
"Queen Lana? She is no queen, young Zen." Helgash chuckled. "She is not of age."
"In elvin culture, she is," Zen began.
"She is not an elvin queen," Helgash blurted, impatience wreathing every word.
"Yes, she is. Queen Mailaea was killed. Lana succeeded her. You said so yourself, Elder Helgash." Zen cast sardonic eyes on Helgash. "Likely the last of her kin. That makes her queen.”
"I am well aware of what I said, Zen," Helgash flustered. "That does not make her a queen!"
"As daughter of Mailaea, she is!" Zen roared. “And you should all show her due respect!” He struck the floor with his right hand.
"Enough of this banter!" Grimwor spoke up, spreading his wings. "She is to leave within a fortnight, escorted by Zen, to Elventon in the north. We will supply provisions for the trip as was previously stated as well as meals and comfortable lodgin
g until her departure. Zen, you are responsible for her and will keep her with you at all times. Understood?"
"Perfectly.” He furrowed his brow. “Since your apparently revised laws state that no one other than wyverns can stay in Bledsoe Keep, I will be departing too."
The Elders looked at each other. "That is unnecessary, Zen," Bremsha said. "This is your home."
"No," Zen said. "It’s not. I haven’t fit in since my adoptive father passed. This is no home for me, where tolerance of another kind does not exist."
"Now Zen," Wringa said. "Be reasonable."
"Coming from the likes of you I find that to be hypocritical," Zen said with a scowl.
"We promised your father that we would look after you." Wringa stated. “You have…”
"If Lana cannot stay, then I won't either," Zen interrupted. He spun around on his haunches and stormed from the council chambers. He didn’t look over his shoulder nor stop as an angry commotion erupted from the small room. The Elders commanded him to halt. On any other day, he would have complied, but now his heart had changed. He was finished with selfish wyverns. Where he would go now depended on wherever Lana went.
CHAPTER 5
AN EARLY DEPARTURE
Zen trotted down the long hallway, purposefully disobeying the walk-only law. He dodged older wyverns and shoved younger ones aside. Lana was glad to be out of that room and away from the Elders. She felt as if she could breathe again. She wanted so badly to leave Bledsoe Keep and found comfort knowing that Zen would be going with her.
"Nice pet you found, Zen!" said a jeering voice. An orange wyvern stood in front of them on her skinny chicken legs. She blocked Zen from advancing down the hall.
"Get out of my way, Kyshta!" Zen replied furiously.
She smirked menacingly. Rolling her eyes, she said, "I feel so threatened. What would you do to me, stupid dragon? Whatever would you do? Hmm, maybe set your pet on me?"
Zen glanced sideways and pinned back his ears. He couldn’t risk a fight with Kyshta with Lana around. She could get hurt and he would likely lose against powers like hers anyway. He was supposed to be Lana’s protector, not a flop.
"Why don't you go craft something?" Kyshta jabbed. She shoved past him and walked down the hall laughing and twitching her tail. "You can teach your little pet."
Zen, slightly deflated, continued trotting down the hall. Lana understood what Zen was feeling. She was the object of ridicule and jokes of her older siblings and some of her kin. They thought she was different than the rest of them because she never truly conformed to the rules. She often wore pants instead of dresses as elvin maidens are required. She also had a knack for getting dirty and out-hunting her brothers in the forest. She was an accomplished bow-woman and was not ashamed to boast about it.
Zen made a sharp left turn down a corridor with light at its end. It opened to the outside. When they reached the end of the hall Zen turned left again. The wall to the right was nonexistent, a mural of nature sprawled beyond a low, carved railing. Beyond the railing was a plummeting cliff with jagged rock covered in ice.
When they came to a tall obsidian door, just big enough for Zen to fit through, he pushed the stone aside and entered. The room was lit by a sturdy golden flame in a foggy globe that hung from the ceiling on a golden chain. The fire slowly danced and played over a clear, viscous fluid, casting a strong light in the chamber. The single flame lit the room efficiently and warmed it as well as any fireplace.
Lana dismounted and stretched. For the first time since she arrived at Bledsoe she began to warm up and feel secure. Walking around the room she noted that the walls and ceiling were polished marble with extensive detail that she knew Zen had carved. She ran her fingers along the magnificence. Wyverns, trees, flowers, mountains and animals were mixed into the amalgamation.
In the farthest corner were a large white pouf and a table. The only other objects were small stone statues and other crafted items that rested on top. It was solid obsidian. No doubt he created it just like he had with her mother’s sepulcher.
"Zen, why is Kyshta unkind to you?" Lana asked gently.
Zen chuckled then said mockingly, "She thinks she’s better than me because I lack the powers she has. I’m not a Wyvk like her. I'm just a crafter."
"Just a crafter? Zen, your skills are the best I have ever seen," Lana complimented.
"Thank you, Lana. But Kyshta believes that she is better than every other wyvern because she can move mountains." Zen airily waved his clawed hand in circles.
"Bresh's daughter?"
Zen nodded. Lana thought Zen should grind down the mountain that Kyshta was supposed to move, into a giant self-portrait of him strangling her.
“You said she’s a Wyvk,” Lana looked at him questioningly. “What is that?”
“She’s one of four wyverns that have magic over elements.”
“So, she’s earth?”
“And a pain in the rump,” he added.
Zen walked over to the pouf and lifted up a side. Beneath it laid many leather objects including a couple bags and the old saddle that belonged to his father. It was bordered with gems and was dyed a dark color. He hooked them with his talon and dragged them from underneath his bed.
"Take those," he said. "We're leaving after we pack. I don't wish to stay here any longer then we need."
"I feel the same," Lana said, looking at Zen and smiling. She felt a bond growing stronger between them. Like roots coursing their way beneath the soil to secure a sapling, so grew their friendship. "What are we going to pack, the figurines?"
Zen looked at the table. "No, we don't need them. They're easily replaced. We’ll get you clothing and bedding for the trip. So we’ll start by going up to the storage room the wyverns have for the elves."
With a smile Lana nodded. She was eager to see what they had. Anything, she was sure, was warmer than the dress she wore, and cleaner. She wanted to get out of the bloodstained, tattered dress and into something that wasn’t branded with her mother’s blood.
With some effort Zen strapped on the saddle. It smelled like old shoes. Not just any old shoes, but ones that were boxed up wet, buried, and then forgotten about. Moreover, it smelled as if the feet were left inside and it sat in a dark, underground hole beside the corps of a mole.
“This thing needs to be aired out. I haven’t used it in a long time. Mai…” Zen stopped, sighed, and then continued softly. “Mailaea preferred to ride bareback.”
“She told me,” Lana’s voice was soft and mournful.
“Climb up,” Zen said, quickly changing the subject. “We have a long way to fly.”
Lana listened and climbed up. She tied the old leather straps and sat back. She wondered if Zen would miss Bledsoe Keep. “Zen, you don’t have to leave just because they won’t let me stay. I’ll be fine in Elventon.”
“I don’t fit in here, never really have,” he replied. “My father found me when I was still in my egg. He adopted me, hatched me, and raised me until he died. The wyverns promised to take care of me but they always treated me differently.”
“How so?”
“They’re always quick to punish me while others slip through the cracks.”
“Kyshta.”
“Right. Then they give me all the undesirable jobs. I was supposed to host the Coming of Age Ceremony only because no one else wanted to. It was for a raven-like wyvern.”
“The one we passed in the corridor?”
“Right again. Her name is Ravyn. She didn’t look pleased with me. Not surprising.” Zen shrugged, walked out the doorway and turned right. “Everyone dislikes her and won’t be friends with her. She’s different, like me. Only, a dragon with four legs is supposedly normal. She’s a wyvern with four legs whereas all the others have two. Us two quadrupeds in a sea of vain bipedal wyverns, was an obvious friendship matchup. We had good times together but,” he paused, “that was a long time ago. She’s grown sour over the years.” He sighed. “I’m sure she’ll take all the negati
ve attention after I’m gone. I feel bad for her but I also adore her for her ability to scare Kyshta with a single nasty glare.”
“I don’t need your pity,” said a sharp and smooth voice.
Zen stopped and looked behind him, giving a kind smile. Ravyn’s sleek black feathered wings glistened with a green and blue sheen. Her thick, scaly forelegs bore stealthy talons that padded quietly on the stone floor of the corridor.
“I know that,” Zen said. “With me gone, I know they’ll find you more visible.”
“So be it,” she said. “It’s not like I haven’t handled it before.” She huffed. “Anyways, I’ve come to bid you farewell and congratulate you on angering your elders once again.”
“Thanks,” Zen said.
Her penetratingly yellow eyes flicked to Lana. “I’d take her over a wyvern any day.” She smirked dryly.
Zen smiled. “Nice to know there’s someone on my side.”
“I’m on a side of my own,” she said firmly. She walked backwards, keeping eye contact. “Take care Zen. I’ve often thought about leaving.” She scrunched her snout in an amused snarl. “Maybe I’ll follow in your claw prints one day.” She leapt over the side of the railing and with a flap she was gone; caught in a stiff updraft that carried her into the sky.
“Well, that was awkward,” Zen said. “I didn’t know what to say to her. How do you talk to someone who told you to, and I quote, go eat elder dung?”
“At least she cared enough to say bye,” Lana replied.
Zen nodded. “Next up, the storage room. You’ll find clothing and then we’ll leave.”
Zen walked until he came to a platform without a railing. He informed Lana that there was one or two on every tier for taking off and landing. They weren’t supposed to jump over the railing like Ravyn had done. The wyverns were strict about it so accidents and injuries could be avoided.
