Beathan followed Bronwyn'a lead to join Sylvanus in his usual quarters. Here was a comfortable dragon lair, complete with warm sands just right for reclining and the cleansing of dragon scales. With a languorous sigh he let go of his alter ego and changed to his true form. It was a rare treat that had not come his way very often through the past century. How wonderful it felt to shed his human form and be himself.
He chuckled when the little crimson dragon materialized. Memories arose of a long gone day in his youth, Esswyn's many times removed ancestress, had led him a merry chase around the halls of Ravenscraig, much to the amusement of Elves and human's present. If the girl meant to re-enact that day, he was far too mature to repeat such youthful folly. MacBeatha was by no means old by dragon years, but past the age of juvenile hi jinks. He grinned at the dainty red, but remained in the spot he had chosen.
He remained in the spot he had chosen. Seeing his Dragon equivalent of the smile, Essa replied in kind. At least he seemed to recognize her shape and not be offended by it. That was helpful. But just now,. Lord Sylvanus was speaking in her mind.
(My Dear, if you would be so kind ...?)
Essa had not seen him before. As he bespoke her, the ancient Human figure tottered from behind the relatively small golden-and-silver shape. As soon as she saw him, Essa concentrated her thoughts on him, silently reciting the spell of reconfiguration that would shift him to his huge and ancient form. There was a sense of sighing as air in the great chamber sought to escape while the forming presence sought solidity. Slowly, with dignity, the shape of the man disappeared and in its place upon the sands rested the great silver Dragon.
But with that change came reality. The scales, once flashing and bright, now were edged with grey tarnish. Many were missing, the replacements growing with obvious slowness that left chinks in the plating. The wings drooped, looking frail and insubstantial, and the body was far too thin to have enough musculature to drive them for flight.
But the worst of it was the shivering. Some part of his body was in motion at all times. Unlike the six hundred forty muscles of the Human body, a Dragon has more than twenty-five hundred separate ones, and the coordination and balance required between the opposing ones in each pair is far more sensitive than in Humans. Sylvanus no longer could exercise the massive control needed to keep all of his muscles still. Any effort, even to stand, would result in an embarrassment. It was for this reason that he now retained his Human form, one over which he still could retain a measure of control. And in those moments when the ague that beset him proved too strong for his iron will even in this regard, Essa could take control of his human shape and perform the required calming. However, she was not yet quite skilled enough to do that for the much more complex task of controlling his Dragon form.
As a result, he lay upon the warm sands, basking and enjoying the sensation, but awaiting with resigned patience for the inevitable response regarding his appearance. It was not long in coming. However, to his surprise, it was Bronratha rather than the youngling who spoke on the subject first.
As Silvanus changed from human to dragon form Bronwyn became concerned. Firstly, the silver dragon seemed to have trouble making the change on his own. Though nothing was said, Bronwyn could not help but note that he was trembling. This was not a good sign. Then, as the transformation took effect, she could see that the elder dragon was not in the best of health.
His scales, which once shown like highly polished silver plate, were heavily edged with tarnish. Quite a few of them were missing, and the replacements were growing in with an obvious slowness that left chinks in the plating. His wings drooped, looking frail and insubstantial, and the body was far too thin to have enough musculature to drive them for flight. Even if he had been able to fly to the inn under his own power without being detected, there was no way that he could have done so because of his infirmity.
When last she had seen Silvanus face to face, in dragon form, a hundred years ago, he had been showing slight signs of aging that all dragons showed, a slight change of coloration around the edges of the scales. This was to be expected. Her own scales, all of which had once glistened like brightly polished bronze plates had taken on a darker patina on the edges and a lot of the gloss was gone from them. However, she was not missing any scales as yet and she was not that much younger than Silvanus. Two hundred years for a dragon was equivalent to three or so years for a human.
("Silvanus, old friend, what has happened to you? When I last saw you at my lair, some seventy-five years ago, you were in fine health. Your scales were in excellent shape and color, and you arrived there under your own power, but now you quiver and shake like a dragon twice your age and your wings... Oh my dearest friend, is there anything that I can do for you?")
Sylvanus lay quiet, the soft sound of his body reaction to the ague making a constant background rustle. When it came, the tone and content of his response was both gentle and wistful.
(Gentle Bronratha, long have you been my favored friend. It is fitting that you should wish me well, and be dismayed at my lot in the Great Scheme. However, dear friend, the wheel of life turns faster for some of us than for others.) He considered for a moment, and then added something by way of explanation. This was very un-Dragonlike, but Bronratha had earned the privilege of understanding.
(If you recall, the last time I saw you in person was when I was on my way to the High Mountain Kingdom. I wished to see for myself if any of the considerable library that your sibling Saurantha had managed to assemble still survived in the cavern that the ancient King of that country granted her. If so, my intention was to bring all of the remainder to MacBeatha, which I did.) His mind roved over a short listing of the documents, books, and scrolls that he had found secreted in a small void in the living stone, the access to which had been protected by wards that made it invisible to all except those who had such knowledge and experience as did he.
(I had hoped that this was the end of the matter. However, there was one other occurrence that I did not tell any of you. I also found the Queen's sword. Intending to remove it from its concealment and return it to the Tell'Quissar for them to keep safe until another should come who was rightfully privileged to carry it, I foolishly presumed that defeating the wards of its containment rendered it safe.) The nictating membranes of his eyes slid over the pupils, protecting them from showing the agony that ensued.
"In Human form, I reached into the little cleft where it had been concealed, grasping it by the hilt. Something within it recognized both my persona and my purpose. I am alive today because the purpose was pure. What you see of me is the result of the reaction of the Sword of Nuada's response to my touch. Many of the nerves in my body were severely damaged. Even within my mind, now, there are random responses I can not fully control. The appearance of my scales also is the result of that incident. It may well be that they never will grow back fully, at least not within what is left to me of life in this plane. The nictating membranes slid away, leaving his eyes unobstructed. Those sought his companions, begging understanding from all. He spoke aloud now, in a near-whisper.
"I ask your pardon. I know that my appearance is distressing. Still, the chance to lie in the warm sands once again with you two ..." His eyes shifted to Essa, and the bespoken sensation of a spark of humor made the tiny Red gasp. "... the three of you, was more than I could resist. If either of you prefer, I can have Essa change me back to my Human form." Both Bronratha and MacBeatha delivered emphatic negatives to this suggestion, however.
Then he continued. "It is true that I no longer can change my form on my own. However, I survive, however limited my lot in life may be for the time being. Essa's education is progressing apace, and the time may well come when she is able to assist me to repair at least some of the damage. But I tell you that it is her tender care that has enabled me to survive this long, even thus. Without her, I should have discorporated ..." his mind sought the date he had calculated long ago, "... on 17 May of the Human calendar year 2003. I will tell you that in only four months, this offspring of her great-grandmother learned to satisfactory measure the complex spells needed to preserve me. I actually am in much better condition now than I was when she spoke those. It was a remarkable achievement for a Human girl of only ten anniversaries. However, she proved herself worthy of her inheritance, and bids fair to surpass even her famous ancestor in skill and knowledge."
Hearing this acknowledgment, Essa's brilliant red scales paled in a Dragon blush.
Esswyn's brilliant red scales paled in a Dragon blush. However, she refused to embarrass herself by stammering, so it took her a few moments to bring her churning thoughts under control before she replied.
"My Lord Sylvanus is much too kind. I am still a poor student, just beginning my life-quest for knowledge. While I am grateful that he finds my poor attempts to aid him to be pleasing, still, if either of you have suggestions as to how to proceed in assisting him ..."
It had been firmly fixed in her mind since the suggestion for a Conclave was made that one or the other of these mighty beings surely could help her Master. However, both the upraised heads swiveled from side to side in a very Human expression of negation.
The fact of it astounded her. She knew from her studies that MacBeatha was, by Dragon standards, still quite young. At about three quarters of a millennium in age, he still had much to learn. However, the Lady Bronratha ...
Essa's sense of disappointment was keen. Even so, those around her in this meeting could feel the palpable sense of determination that swept over her. "No? Then I shall continue my studies until I find the answer. I will find a way to help my Lord Sylvanus recover himself. It shall be." There was an odd twist to the very fabric of existence as she said the last three words. The statement hung in the air before them, its content having an unusual reverberation and sense of permanence. Esswyn just had made a Life Vow*, and the action was irreversible.
~~~~~~~~~~ 8 ~~~~~~~~~~
* Life Vow - A promise or commitment to action that will be completed within the life of the one uttering the Vow. In the terms of the Uroloki, a Life Vow is a rare form of enchantment. Most Dragons studiously avoid committing themselves to declarations that bind them for their remaining days. It was a measure of Esswyn's complete devotion to Sylvanus that she was willing to burden herself with such a promise at so tender an age before witnesses, although there are occurrences in Dragon Lore that suggest the making of a Life Vow does not require them.
One aspect of such a vow is that if Sylvanus should precede in death the completion of her vow, Esswyn would be locked into an eternity of seeking for a way to "reverse his condition", by annulling his death. Since such a matter is, of course, not possible for beings in this plane of existence, this meant that she would live forever, but in a hellish circumstance, being compelled and driven to resolve the conundrum. It is for just such aspects and reasons that Dragons almost never allow themselves to commit to a Life Vow.
"I will find a way to help my Lord Sylvanus recover himself." Essa said, "It shall be".There was an odd twist to the very fabric of existence as she said the last three words.
The words Essa spoke took Bronwyn by surprise. It took a few seconds for the meaning to sink in, but when it did Bronwyn exclaimed, (Child! Do you realize what you have done? The words that you spoke and the tone in which they were spoken have invoked a shift in the weave. You have made a vow that cannot be broken.
From now on you will devote your entire existence to restoring Sylvanus to full health without regard to other things in life, except for food and sleep. It shall consume you as if by a flame!
If you are unable to restore him to his former self before he passes into the next plane of existence you will be damned to continue trying to restore him forever. Since such a matter is, of course, not possible for beings in this plane of existence, this meant that you would live forever, but in a hellish circumstance, being compelled and driven to resolve the conundrum.")
Bronwyn thought for a long moment then said, ("Esswyn, I have innumerable scrolls, tomes, clay tablets and Grimoires in my lair. They are arranged by subject and cross-referenced as a library would do.
As Sylvanus is an old and very dear friend, I would like to see him restored to full health. Therefore, child, I grant you access to MY library with the following conditions. Nothing, and I mean NOTHINGis to be removed from there without my express permission. You will report to either Sigourney or myself when arriving or leaving. Do you understand?")
Bronwyn could see the diminutive red dragon swallow as the warning tone of Bronwyns speech sank home. Bronwyn save her a severe look then nodded as Essa agreed with a shake of her head.
("Good, child"), said Bronwyn. ("I shall instruct Sigourney to give you driving directions to my Manor house on Skye. Esswyn, I want you to succeed in this quest. Therefore, I will provide what help I can. However, the task is your hands. You DO understand this, do you not?")
Again Essa nodded. Bronwyn nodded once and then let the matter drop. There was nothing more she could do or say about this. It all depended on Esswyns efforts from now on out .
(I want you to succeed in this quest. Therefore, I will provide what help I can. However, the task is your hands. You do understand this, do you not?)
Esswyn's responding posture and body language was one of submission and obedience. However, her eyes held a distant glint of rebellion.
(Does she think I did not know of my action? Not know that I made a Life Vow?) The breath she exhaled was just short of being described as either a snort or a sigh of exasperation. How old did a Human have to be, before a Dragon took them seriously? Still, she arched her neck and although it had some aspects of indignation, her head came low enough to qualify well into the realm of submission.
Again Essa nodded. Her nod, when it came, was also submissive and accompanied by a polite and kindly expression of gratitude. (My Lady, I treasure the opportunity to look through your library. Perhaps ... just perhaps ... there is something that either will aid us directly or else give us a lead where to look for what we need.) Bronwyn nodded once and then let the matter drop. There was nothing more she could do or say about this. It all depended on Esswyn's efforts from then on. Essa knew this, but in her heart of hearts her spirit soared and sang.
Saddened by the deterioration of their old friend's health, MacBeatha was deep in thought and at a loss of what to do. Esswyn's vow shook him to the very core of his being. It was a sacred oath that any dragon understood to be unbreakable for all eternity. Did this child understand what she had wrought?
As he had no way of knowing the answer, he did what youth would often do when faced by a conundrum, he changed the subject. "My friends, let us proceed with the matter that brought us together this night."
("My friends, let us proceed with the matter that brought us together this night." Said Beathan. This brought Bronwyn back to the matters at hand.
She turned and looked at the younger dragon for a moment, a bit irked at his abrupt change of subject. For a moment a rebuke began to form in her mind but Beathan was correct. There was no need to dwell on the problem of the "Life Vow." What was done, was done. Essa would either succeed or fail that was all there was to it. Besides, somewhere deep in Bronwyns subconscious there was a niggling feeling that the lass just might succeed.
She turned her thoughts to Beathan. (" I would assume that the main reason that we have gathered here is that fact that the deed for the inn has indeed been found. My senses tell me that it has.
There is something else that needs to be done my friends. It has been nearly one thousand years since the first stones for this inn were laid. By the current calendar, it would have been on May, 23rd, 1110. It started as a simple way station between Selkirk and Edinburg and by 1300 it had become pretty much the building it is today.
At that time I placed enchantments on the building that would stop anyone from harming another while on the premises. Also, there is one that maintains the building itself. Over the years these enchantments have weakened. As the threads of fabric will deteriorate over time, the threads of the weave can also come unraveled. Strain and time have taken their toll. When you add in the effects of pollution to the equation it is amazing that the spells have not failed before this.
Tonight, my friends, we need to restore these spells. I could do it myself and they would last for another thousand years, but with the combined powers of the three no, make that the four of us, they can last much, much longer.
I would like to add another protection spell as well; one that will prevent the destruction of the inn for as long as the Elliots' hold claim to the property.
Do any of you have any other suggestions? If so, please feel free to speak. ")
(We need to restore these spells. I could do it myself and they would last for another thousand years, but with the combined powers of the three ... no, make that the four ... of us, they can last much, much longer.
I would like to add another protection spell as well; one that will prevent the destruction of the inn for as long as the Elliots hold claim to the property. Do any of you have any other suggestions? If so, please feel free to speak.)
Essa was flabbergasted. Never, in any of her studies, had she discovered any account of a Human, whether Companion or otherwise, being invited to participate in the casting of Dragon spells as a joint venture. To Companions, the lore was taught, and in some cases used. But Dragons did their own things themselves. Perhaps it was that this situation was so unique. The participation of Sylvanus, her Master, was desired. However, unless the spells that were to be cast were of utmost simplicity he would be unable to aid them except at the most rudimentary level. Only with her assistance could he participate at the level she was sure must be done. He would direct her regarding his wishes, and she would implement those.
However, that presumed that she knew and could in lightning-quick terms convert what he envisioned into the proper charms and spells, in a manner that would be compatible with the efforts of Bronratha and MacBeatha. Could she do that, as young as she was?
Sigourney, Bronrahta's Companion, was not in evidence. Why? Then the realization hit her. The door into this suite had been set to allow her to enter. Only her. Three pairs of Dragon eyes whirled expectantly as the Dragons waited for her to link her mind with theirs into the forming of the spell. They wanted her, trusted her. Could she deny them what they expected of her? It did not seem reasonable to do so. With a sigh of mixed relief and slight terror, she linked.
Essa always had felt great respect for the mind of her Master. His knowledge was prodigious, and the orderliness of his thoughts was unbelievable. Yet, looking into the minds of MacBeatha and Bronratha, she could see readily how much the Elder Dragon's mind already had deteriorated.
Her first thought was in response to Bronratha's invitation. (I have no additional ideas at this time, but I will be happy to inform you if anything occurs to me as we go ...)
(I have no additional ideas at this time, but I will be happy to inform you if anything occurs to me as we go ...)
At that, they began. While each of the Dragons took one or two main elements of the task as his or her own, there was a nearly continual byplay of handing things off or asking for extra assistance as the spells unfolded. All had to work in concert, for the original spell had been one of great complexity. And of then all, Essa was working furiously, her mind flashing thoughts as she accepted directions from first Sylvanus and then, gradually, from Bronratha as well as the great bronze became more familiar with her capabilities.
Their thoughts flashed and wove, and the spell took shape before them for, as her ancestress had been wont to do, Essa liked to see what she was creating. She had shifted their collective viewpoint enough to be able to see the Weave. As the overall spell assembled, the Dragons looked upon it with some curiosity. They never had experienced this visual form of spellcasting, and it interested them.
finally, as the entire construction hung in the air before them, Sylvanus asked mildly, "My Dear, is everything as it should be?" Essa stepped back and took a long look.
Several little threads moved subtly under her influence, tucking themselves neatly into place. Sylvanus could see how those final touches would make the refurbished spell even more impervious than had been the original. This one should last for several thousand years, if no one tampered with it. And Essa had thought to set several small alarms that would call attention if anyone did so. A nod from him, echoed by the others, and she sent it into motion, now effective for the place.
With the completion of the spells that were now re-woven about the inn Bronwyn relaxed. It had been many years since she had seen anyone bring the weave forward in such a visual presentation. In fact the last time she had seen such a display. It had been many years before at a christening of an elven child in Avalon. Interestingly enough, it had been the ancestor of the young lady across the sand from her.
Inclining her great bronze head to one side she regarded Esswyn closely. The child did not look like her ancestor at all. The original Essa had been dark and slight of build. This girl, in her human form, was fair-haired, taller and noticeably heavier. Still, she had enabled to allow all those present to see the weave in all its complexity and beauty.
There was a niggling thought in the back of her mind about the girl though. was she as powerful as her ancestor had been?
Beathan was amazed at the ease with which young Esswynn handled the weave. Hundreds of years ago he had watched her ancestress, Essa, do so with even greater finesse. This youngster was good, but lacked some of the mastery that her grandmother had exhibited But that was before Beathan had taken her to find her parents. For some reason. After that visit, Essa strangely seemed to have lost much of her expertise. Much to his puzzlement.
Concentrating on the spell, Beathan returned his full attention to his companions and their effort.
As a soft glow emanated from the now-complete spell, Essa watched with some considerable pride what occurred when she released it. While she shifted their perceptions back to the normal level a soft golden glow overtook the room, lighting the faces of those within with a warm caress. Gentle scents of Springtime permeated the air, and a feeling of well-being crept upon them. Then it seemed to dissipate, leaching into the very walls of the edifice. Behind, it left a companionable sense of well-being that promised to overwhelm all feelings of anger and strife. As the last wisps cleared and went their way to do their work, Essa smiled softly.
It was only then that she became aware of the stares of her compatriots. Lord MacBeatha looked at her with curiosity mixed (if she read his Dragon expressions aright) with some surprise. Lady Bronratha's expression was harder to decipher. A very little of surprise, but mostly intense and close observation as if seeking to determine if there might be anything false about her, she thought. Lord Sylvanus was easiest, of course, because she knew him best. The stiffness of his neck spines told of pride in her accomplishments and progress, and his eyes bespoke pleasure that she had accomplished so much. There was no quiver of the tail-tip, the Dragon equivalent of a smile. But then, she sighed inwardly to herself, that was a dream of far-reaching proportions. None of her predecessors ever had recorded a smile in their massive journals, at least not that she had yet discovered. A frown was his normal response, as he gently corrected all the mistakes. Superlative performance brought a bland, neutral expression of acceptance, the highest praise any seemed to have experienced.
Folding her diminutive right front leg and extending her left she lowered her head and curtsied, Dragon style, to the three Ancient Ones. Then she spoke in a properly self-depreciating manner.
"My Lords, my Lady, I beg that you forgive my presumptuousness. In my youthful eagerness to be of some small service, I may have overstepped myself. However, I sought only to be of assistance, however little that might be." Not until she completed her apology did she raise her head at all, and then it was a mere upturning of her snout to be able to look upon her teacher and his peers to see if she had made any mistake.
She felt Beathan release the wards that had been placed about the surfaces of the chamber. Of course, the spell that had been created within those wards was keyed to them and had experienced no difficulty in penetrating them. But they had been needful. Without those, the whole of the Melrose area would have experienced nightmares and waking dreams of a magnitude and content that surely would have brought remarks and inquiry. Even so, there might have been some leakage. Suddenly Beathan stiffened.
In flashing thoughts he turned their collective attention to the minor disturbance on the floor above. Elain was in Lisa's bedroom, each of the two girls engaged in soothing the other's disturbed mind. James and Carol were in the hallway outside in various states of undress, having obviously just been inquiring after the well-being of the other two. But it was Lisa who appeared to be the most disturbed.
(I should have guessed.) Beathan's thought came clearly as the golden and silver body of the youngest Dragon began to coalesce back toward his Human form. Rising, he bowed to the other two Dragons and then turned toward Essa. As he walked past her to the door of the chamber, she could have sworn that he winked at her. In moments, long before her befuddled brain could respond, he was gone.
Beathan climbed the stairs towards the top floor, his mind questing ahead to assess what trouble the tendrils of dragon magic might have caused.
When he reached the second floor, the soft closing of Carol's door assured him that all seemed well there. The young couple obviously gave comfort to each other. On the floor above he glimpsed Elain bidding Lisa a good night before returning to her own chamber.
With a murmur of satisfaction, he retraced his steps. Others had seen to whatever disturbance was caused. A satisfied smile appeared around his lips. The descendents of friends long gone, had formed similar bonds of kinship, like the ones that had bound their ancestors. It was gratifying to see.