short story – S J Lister. Author

Part 9 – He just wanted a pet for his daughter.

The deliverer of dragons. The arrival of death from above. The destruction of stone.

Such was a time when the Kingdom rose in the ashes of the fallen.

It was then that a dragon on the battle field would turn the tide. The flock would arrive and the enemy would see there was no choice. The Age of the Dragon saw a dominance as none had before. [Although it would not last]

The dragon that was Gerald’s gift for his daughter, was no more than knee height. It would roll on its back in the sun, gurgle flames and shoot fire balls at moving rats. When tired, it would curl up and sleep wherever it wanted. When walking through the office or his home, guests could mistake the creature for a large rock.

For 3 years the secret of the dragons was kept. Despite the villages being burnt, the riots, the destruction of iconic gardens or even the burning down of a forest. But what got the secret out about the flock was the change in road networks and growth in farming.

This was what was needed to feed a growing number of dragons and prevent the kingdom from starving.

As the flock flew through a village, the commanding factor was what trailed behind. Each dragon needed to be fed. Whether they were moving around, training, or just being held in in the fields. There was one law that did not break, an unfed dragon will search for food.

Before dragons were found, most of the kingdom were farmers. Sowing, harvesting and eating. In every town there was a market that brought all of the local farmers to sell, to buy new crafts and to allow those smaller entrepreneurs to expand their businesses. All would want to see the blacksmith; either to buy new tools or to have them fixed. The butchers, stonemasons and weavers all had a place.

After the arrival of dragons, every industry was slowly turned to them. The butchers’ apprentices were sent up to cut the meat and prepare it for them, not for those in the town. Stonemasons were to build new structures for dragons to be housed in. To attempt to make them strong enough that would not fall down and to withstand the heat. Weavers were employed to make sure all dragons were dressed appropriately along with making sure each soldier would look, and smell, the way that dragons were trained to not attack them.

The biggest change however, was out in the fields. Before dragons, the fields would be used for growing crops. Each strip was set out for those in the villages to attempt to grow their own food before the winter comes, and where possible for the lord of the land. The hardest time used to be just before harvest. For many this meant the ends of their stores. Clawing out the final parts from the clay pots buried in the ground, the dried meat hanging that was covered in flies or the pickled pots quickly emptying. The swagger of those who ate the mouldy remains of their food was a common sight.

The demand for more meat for the dragons saw a revolution in how they were raised. This came from both domestic growth, and a demand from other kingdoms. Attempts to have those in villages eat less and let more lambs, calves and all options being born and not be eaten. Other wild animals were captured to be domesticated and bred. Larger animals were tracked and this saw more attempting to change their own roles. The price of meat fluctuated and saw some grow into successful new sectors in their own right.

Fences had to be stronger, feed had to be regular. It was not enough to leave animals to walk around or eat what was in one field. Woods were cut down to make way for fences, to go around the land that was to be used for cattle. This influx of meat changed how villages of all levels ate. With the growth of the meat market, the prices of other stable crops changed. The landscape of the kingdom literally changed colour. The road network went from dirt paths to flat, reliable roads for carts to move on. Flood ditches were dug to make sure a the weather didn’t prevent delivery. Fallow land was turned into pasture. Wild animals were domesticated and bred.

This broadening of expertise saw more progress that other kingdoms wanted to learn. Trade saw some kingdoms get closer, which saw the kingdom become richer. While others refused to work with them, competition saw the risk of war grow.

Once the secret of dragons got out, and others managed to get their own. The burgeoning pressure on the economies saw more dragons grow. But this saw a thirst for more fear, more power and more fire.

When those in the mountains housed a series of dragons, the need for flying was quickly stopped as there was no need in the mines. Over the generations, dragons held in the mines had their wings wilt and their skin turned to a dull grey. They may have been renowned for their power in charging and fire, but would run from the bright sun after the generations were bred underground.

Whereas those in the jungle were trained to leap from tree to tree. To glide with speed so their size was kept smaller. Through breeding they would be seen to become longer and bend around the trees for grip. With the risk to burning down the forests, the limitation of fire was a need and through practicing the options of diet, but also keeping them under the canopy of the forest, these dragons lost the wide ranging fire breathe their ancestors had and a small specific fire shot.

For each kingdom, the wild dragon developed with the generations. The landscape inspired what they would become. Industry and agriculture reflected their choices and strengths. Trade between kingdoms grew to be a careful balance between profit, but limiting their own military growth. With every deal, every meeting or marriage between royal or aristocratic families, the future of the kingdom could hang in the balance.

Long gone were the days with the knee high creature purred at the feet of Gerald at his office desk. Waiting for the scraps of his lunch to fall to the floor.

Part 6 – The Colonel’s Quest: Taming Wild Dragons

During the new events, those in charge often look to hold on to what is familiar. This is shown when a small child is scared and hugs one of their parents. Never both mind. They have favourites. Deal with being second. Chances are you will be their first one day. If not, second place still gets a medal. Unless you play a game of ‘5 Towers’, then there is one winner and one loser. Or on those rare occasions no winner. But no one likes it when a player does that on purpose so doesn’t happen. Well, not that often.

But this also happens when anyone grows old. Dwarfs seek comfort with stone. Goblins seek comfort with playing tricks on friend. Elves, probably do something odd with flowers and family. But those who make decisions, they seek what they know. Those in command of lots, worry they will make a mistake, so, they stick to what they did last time.

This, is how 4 days after the Great Expedition returned from their mighty, technically second, arrival from the beyond.

For starters, the group of wild dragons had to be named. The final conclusion was a flock . There was a large debate about what to call a group of dragons. A murder seemed difficult to get past the locals, an army seemed to challenging to the status quo, a caravan gave the impression they would transport too much and although a cloud appeared to work for some, it felt too soft by the Colonel.

It was the lawn, of the very secluded, walled garden that the King liked to stroll around when he wanted some quiet time. But as the dragons could breathe fire, and might cause embarrassment for training if it went wrong. A walled space was thought best, and this one didn’t have lots of soldiers and flammable material nearby apart from a few canes holding up a few rose beds and a small shed.

With the space found, training had to wait a little longer for some form of netting to be added on top. There was no attempt at making it fire proof, the Great Expedition broke the banks of many wilful donors. To ask again would cause economic trouble for some parts of the Kingdom. But an attempt to look to keeping them penned in had to be made and with the right training, anything would be possible.

The Colonel looked at the flock and despite all his ideas for what to do, and considering what Gerald had told him. Nothing seemed to work for the first few days, except feeding them. That definitely made them go quiet for a while. Also the midday sun seemed to keep be on their backs happily. Not that they were a rumbustious crowd of wild dragons. But the motivation to complete set training, target practice, along with other training exercises that had been set up for them up to speed. All attempts failed. Consistently failed. But failed.

So considering the options, he knew of on team in the army who knew how to training a unruly group of misfits. Then once they failed to make an impact, with more than one of the soldiers crying after 3 days of not only being ignored but having his uniform singed after attempting to pick up and throw one of the wild dragons. The Colonel could only think of one person to start with.

Gerald.

Not just Gerald. He also brought along the animal trainers for the kingdom. They spent their time training animals, some seemed to do anything if you had food. Completely forget what they have been taught if food was not visible, or at the very minimum hinted at. But they knew what they had to do to get the food morsels.

Following a successful start, in that no one got hurt, a plan was formed and a dragon moved in a somewhat positive physical direction. Rolling over was declared not to have counted very early on. With enough options one would generally do it in the way it was commanded to at some point. The Colonel left a bewildered and confused Gerald with the animal training team setting up ramps and things to jump over. This was not the same set up as he had at home and he missed his pet and family with each new box being unopened.

—

Following positive reports coming across his desk each day for an entire moon cycle, the Colonel returned to see what had become of his flock of wild dragons. As he walked down The Princes’ way, crossed through Heroes Arch and finally wandered down the roads of the morning market by the palace. He entered the Walled Garden. In time, what he saw will be described as a flock of dragons flying from post to post, tracking targets running across the ground and with a bolt of fire, hitting a moving target before landing calmly on its mark. How the trainers moved among the dragons, giving orders with no fear of being burned alive.

The reports had indeed been positive. They did, with much surprise, move in formation. It was true that they could set fire to things on command and then eat their prey. Moving targets were tracked and eaten in a display that would make a small child hold on to their favourite parent in fear that that fire would come in their direction and the protective powers of their favourite would keep them safe.

Unlike the imagination of a child, the Colonel saw something else.

The dragons moved in formation behind a leader when that leader held food in their hands and gave a command word. When there was no food, bellies saw sun.

When a rat ran through the garden, the dragons could track, fly even, and hit the living thing with fire. Then sit, eat, and be calmly lying about.

The trainers did move around with a no fear attitude of being burnt. But this was only when they were on the other wide of the low wall, far away from the dragons.

Still, having dragons waddle over to a trainer on command. Sit in front of them and look at the food. Then eat the snack. Was better than just attacking the training team and moving on to roam the city in a mass of fire chaos eating all that they find.

Not quite the new weapon, but as the Colonel felt a familiarity to what he was seeing, and the animal sat by his foot that had dutifully followed him from his own office.

Part 5 – Carrots: The Surprising Link to Dragons

The King, kneeling on a cold and puddled floor, his arms still shaking from the reigns of his horse all day, picked up the creature. It’s eyes glowed orange and its belly grew with steam rising in the spitting rain. As the King rose, he looked up at saw a bright eyes, wider apart than his own shoulders, staring at him. The emerald eyes locked onto our King as he held her baby. The steam slowly left and rain settled on the little ones belly.

Mother dragon, Queen of all dragons, saw in the King’s eyes what power he held. The future he could bring for her kind. With a nod of the head, mimicking a bow, the Queen waved her front arms and the wings attached blew a mighty gust of wind. As many of the soldiers slipped and fell on the wet ground, the King stood and watched as the mighty dragon took off and left for the mountains afar.

There, on that day, our King not only held the kings own, but the very line of dragons that was fit for a king from the Queen herself was handed to him. A baby that the Queen trusted in the care of him and his family from him.

—/—

Well, that’s the story. But, with the review of those early days, the sources about where people were. Most people have come to realise nearly all of the whole saga never happened. This is also without noticing that dragons, prior to their human connection, were only a small creature and at best, came up to a humans knee, and that is if the human wasn’t very tall.

On the day the Great Expedition arrived at the gate, the 37 men were down to 29, there were 5 people in cages who looked petrified by the crowds. Behind the first few carts of supplies, artefacts and people in cages, were a series of cages all covered up. The convoy hurdled over the cobbled street, stopping and starting repeatedly, as the day they were fated to arrive was market day. A time to find a present for a love one. To buy food for the following week or see what may be on sale from a far. It was not a day to transport a convoy through.

The welcome party was similar in that it was not just thin on the ground, but also in the wrong place. The Colonel who had been speaking with Gerald, and still made efforts to find out about him, had heard about their arrival and made his way to greet the Great Expedition. But their arrival saw them go down the wrong road and enter the grounds of a mansion for one of the Lords of the city, who wasn’t even home to receive them. They waited patiently until a scruffy servant came out and offered them some carrots. Not knowing what to do and having so little, they hoped it was better than nothing. Beer, which was stored a plenty in the basement wasn’t brought up as it was the Lord’s private stock, and this group of people looked more likely wanting to rob the place, than being a returning exhibition to bring forth the greatest wonder seen for a while..

People really were impressed with the water fountain that could track time. It made most inventions or discoveries look pretty basic for a long time. Something that upset a lot of people whose life’s work was to make their mark on the city. Some of the inventions that got through were vertical windmills to support grinding cereals, stirrups to help riders get onto horses to transport cereals and crops safer and quicker. With these leading to better beer deliveries and the creation of wheat beer. The guild of breweries tended to control most of what happened, so most of the money went to items that helped them with their trade or businesses attached to it.

Dragons nearly became used in heating for production of beer but the military was one of the few avenues that trumped the Brewers Guild. That, and there is little need for heating in the brewing of beer.

As the leaders of the Great Expedition chomped down their set of carrots, the phrase “Don’t worry, eat a carrot” came to be known for many as a way to pass the time when things were not going right for you. A phrase that is not used much today, but then it spread through the lower ranks of soldiers, some of whom became midlevel ranking officers. So if enough of them said it slowly it filtered through to others to say for a while. But like the fountain clock, it soon got replaced with more modern ways and became a thing for the past.

Meanwhile, the dignitaries stood and waited for their arrival for a short while but soon disappeared as it became apparent they were not coming. This was yet another event that would not come to pass. But still, the Colonel managed to stumble upon his chance when walking down from one of the side exits to the palace. Which is most exits as from most angles it was the side due to its size. But he walked down The Prince’s Way following it meander through the markets when he paused at one of the gardens in the south sector of the Capital and saw the Great Expedition in the middle of the Gardens. With all 27 soldiers eating carrots. Covered in filth and a number of carts under tarp that with scorch marks.

It would happen that The Grand Expedition made their official entrance to the Palace grounds with the King sparing 15 minutes, or a quarter Peacock as it was called from the Clock Fountain. They marched in clean, in time and their number had somehow risen from 27 scattered men, to 150 tidy, clean and energised soldiers. The Colonel knew how to make an entrance, to either not be seen or to draw everyone’s eye.

Once the parade stopped, one of the soldiers held out one of the creatures and declare, “A gift for our king from the lands afar. May it grow to protect you family, and lead our Kingdom to a brighter tomorrow.”

It certainly had a better ring than, “Got another carrot?”

– Click here to go to part 6 –

Part 3 – Gerald’s new pet has caught the Colonel’s eye

There are some things in this world that are not explainable.

How certain members of society attend funerals for those they do not know. Why family matriarchs have such power over the young ladies in rich families, even though they live so far away, and often in a castle on their own. Or what is in the famous pie at The Bell in the town of Co’ombe. But people still come back for more without knowing.

There is, however, one set of events that will, most likely, happen if connected.

Step 1, find a creature that you call your pet, which has some abilities including, but not limited to, fire breathing. An aptitude to fly. To climb tall towers with an unsatiable hunger. Maybe even a killer instinct as a common skill.

Step 2, put said creature in an army or general military office.

Step 3 will likely appear to you. You will quickly find a person in the army who doesn’t see a cute, quirky pet in an office space far away from the centre of the complex, where discussions and planning for war, safety, security or the latest advancements in swords. Sharper and strong nearly every time just to give a spoiler, sometimes lighter.

No.

They will see the future of warfare. A way to make all their enemies run away in an exercise of futility as this new method, which can fly and can breach the walls of the castle. Then get to the local lord for terms of surrender before they can say ‘man the walls’. Or other such terms depending on who is being attacked.

Who needs a catapult now? Or even an army at that.

Gerald could see the plans forming from the moment step 3 started. The colonel stood at his door most morning. Asking questions.

No one asked him questions about his day. Or about him in general he found. His lunch was not a topic and certainly how often he went out walking when he went home. He had built a career out of being in the background enough to not be in the front line, but not so far back that he would be accidentally attached to the vanguard and likely meet his end with an angry dwarf arguing about mining rights for what he feels in essentially his childhood home. But the colonel wanted to know about his new pet, not him.

What he ate.

How he ate it.

How often.

How much exercise it needed.

What the animal (specimen as it was referred to in the Colonel’s notes) could do.

How high or fast it could fly.

How much fire and how often. Especially these two points.

The list of topics grew as Gerald slowly kept notes. Some days the agenda was hidden. Some days less so.

The army, and the non-descript departments loosely connect to it especially, had various ways to get information out of those who hid it. There were those who have specific training about how to extract information from hard to reach places. In times of war, nails, teeth or even family members had been known to be pushed on to get what was sought after. But with the removal of certain, methods, kindness was brought into replace. Talking about how Gerald and his husband met, or what he did in his free time. Even asking about his house and the flowers he grew. Were attempted to get to know the man.

No one had asked before because Gerald was both private, but more importantly, not the most engaging for conversation. Which only added to the Colonel needing to bring out his softer side to attempt to deepen what had become a near daily chat. A side that had been near completely trained out of him through his military career. As highlighted by the awards he had been given, and the awards that could not be given for tasks he could never say he did.

But Gerald now had a wild dragon in his office. The first attempt to domesticate the future, although temporarily, change in warfare for the kingdom. Thankfully for other places in the world, this wonder asset also made them the wrong choice for human manipulation in the end.

Unlucky for him, the future was not known and the Colonel had a lot of people requesting updates to know what to do with the potential assets that were being transported back from the expedition that was sent out.

There was one thing Gerald knew about these dragons though that no one else did. Something he never knew how to tell people, or wanted to tell people for a man in his position had to keep air of mystery about himself.

Dragons love their tummy’s being rubbed. Especially when they are out in the sun. No matter how big they got, or mean they were, or in the middle of sheer wanton violence. A tummy rub in any form, was a favourite.

This always brought not just his new pet happiness, but a smile to him too.

– Click here to go to part 4 –

Part 2 – How Gerald’s Dragon Became the Kingdom’s Secret Weapon

Bringing home a new pet that breathes fire. Can fly. Feed itself by keeping local rats under control while also not appear to travel far so not getting lost. It seemed to be the perfect pet for Gerald’s children. Even made his cleaner less scared about going into the basement.

Everyone loved it when the new pet fired, literally, its first kill.

But after a while, with a pet that sleeps all day, does not keep the attention of small children for long. The fun of watching it chase the rats stops when it’s no longer able to satisfy its hunger once the rats realise they can live somewhere else and not be hunted.

And once those wings are used to get up on a table and eat the dinner. Well, this makes those who run the home less than favourable to its presence.

So Gerald had only one option. This option would forever change the continent and send shudders further across the seas. Or at least for a while. Gerald took the new pet to work.

Having a wild dragon sleeping most of the day was easy to keep quiet as a mid-ranking officer in the barracks. The cadet booked to Gerald scared easily at the first sight of fire, and once he realised that food kept the creature quiet, it took little encouragement for him to bring food. Even less effort as there was no preparation required.

This was fine for a few days, but the level of food coming to his office did bring suspicions. Just how much raw food can one man eat?

On seeing the fire breathing creature, it quickly became a novelty at the end of hard days, it would be brought out to test what this creature could do. It was within a week that the flying capacity, target hunting and those vicious claws got some in the planning department for the Kingdom wondering if there were more out there.

Before anyone realised the impact on feeding a scavenger animal constantly, an expedition was being formed to see what could be found out about the creature in its natural habitat.

The reports of how easy it was to capture the creature were casually hidden but it’s ability to set fire to a house was casually leaked. The ease of capture came from someone dropping food into a cage, by accident, and 3 darting in. By the time someone thought to close the opening, the creatures were tucking down on the spilt box of food equally, oblivious to their capture. It wasn’t until hours later when one woke from a well-earned nap that the concept of a cage was even considered by them.

Through fear of being burned alive, the young boys on watch threw more food in. The concept of bribery was not learnt but those watching them believed it worked.

The burnt out house was more of a bad throw of a living rat that attempting to run away and the fire caught the corner of an old, dried out building. Propaganda was also formed that week, but no name was given to it either.

So it was shortly after 7 months when Gerald showed his unemotional offspring a wild dragon, the rumours about the Kingdoms new weapon were filling the courts of allies, enemies and disinterested.

Feeding them seemed to make them grow bigger. Letting them roam and warm in the sun kept the fire burning, and with the right level of challenge, they appeared to follow instructions. Once the food was shown and quickly given after that is.

The beginning of the domestication of the dragon had begun. Albeit with little guidance, a lack of any plan and a lot of guess work.

– Click here to go to part 3 –

Part 1 – The Unexpected Origin of Dragons

It began with a simple decision. To bring back a gift for a son.

It was never a bold general that the stories tell. Or a mighty King slaying a beast. It was a mid-level leader in training who found a small creature running around, actually it wasn’t even do anything that exciting. The story that’s told, in case you haven’t heard, is one where a general sees a small creature nibbling at his feet. Despite the small statue of the creature, they look down and see the potential. A vision of change. A future where he will lead his people. The bold strategy that will mean his enemies bow down before him. Or despites its small stature, it had gumption. And that’s what the general, or king in some parts, liked.

Gerald, or some similar name long since forgotten, actually was walking around looking for his sword, stumbled over what at first was thought to be a rock. It barely moved and half appeared to notice it was even kicked. This, in the wild, is what dragons do. They sleep most of the day, roll over in the midday sun to warm their bellies, and use the fire inside their bellies to keep them warm at night when it gets cold. As in 13 degrees or so. If ever in single figures they would actually move to be near each other. Or a cave.

If they have one purpose, it’s to eat.

Their wings? To fly to find food.

The fire? To cook the food before eating it.

Their sharp teeth? To eat the food and tear it apart, before swallowing it. Unless the next mouthful pushes it down.

Those sharp claws? Not to rip through armour, but to hold and save time for their teeth to tear it apart.

Nothing, actually, has evolved to fight. Put two wild dragons in a space together, the only action you will see is from when a living creature they can eat comes into view, then chances are, they will split it in half it between them.

Wild dragons, at least the original ones, not those that escaped years later, were lazy.

But like all things, a human got involved and things changed. Give a dwarf a new way of forging metal, they will improve their equipment and use it to cut deeper into rock. Give a goblin a means to write in new ways, and they will cause more confusion for beings around them with strange notes or markings. Give a race the change to build walls, and pretty soon a duende will appear inside it. Find some new gold, and sure enough, the local tax farmer will be there taking their share. Some things are just the way they are.

But find something in the wild, something innocent or harmless. Give that thing to a human. Then you get something wonderous. At least for a time. Then it can go in any direction. Normally bad for someone, and something.

A wild dragon, before this meeting, was just a way some villages kept wildlife under control. They were too lazy to breed out of control, but hungry enough to eat so much they couldn’t chase all the local creatures in one causing extinction. Too fat too quick. But when they got too fat, they would work harder to get food, but give a chance for the surviving wildlife to escape, bread, and not go extinct. Then be eaten.

Balance in action.

Then came Gerald. Who had a thirst to impress his child. And now we have dragons. Big scary ones that grow too fast, too big and eat too much.

But that’s the next bit, the part that one on talks about after Gerald, sorry that General, found the miracle strategy.

–Click here to go to part 2–

The Gesture

In the olden days, one, normally a man, would go out and buy a ring. Spending lots of money on it.

In the olden days, one, normally a man, would go out and buy a ring. Spending lots of money on it. Then the other, I think the word they used to use was ‘traditional’ and so would be a woman, was given the ring. She, as was what is shown in the old films, would then be delighted to later show off the ring to her friends.

What followed was often the man feeling happy but also broke, or smug about how much they had spent as they can afford a big one. The effort was to find ‘the one’, but this one used to mean ‘ring’. Not ‘them’. The rituals were odd as it meant setting up a future with someone and putting your resources into something that could be lost, or worse, just make the next stage in life difficult.

No one is sure when the change happened. All Rachel knows is. For her. The perfect moment is not some compressed piece of carbon attached to a metal band. For her, it’s finding someone who knows her.

This was how it was for her. People would often talk about the moment they realised they had found their person by creating, organising or doing something that, to them, showed they had found them.

Some of her friends had decided to play on this new idea and simply tell people they were slightly interested in what their desires were. For a time this was fun, but after having people do this for you had two, slightly surprising, consequences.

The first was predictable. Claire had told 3 different people, 3 different amazing ideas. They each, over the course of a year or so, did them. After each one they felt they had found their person, but Claire carried on much the same as the day before, except for having enjoyed the thing they planned for her.

The obvious consequence was that the the planners gave up, they felt rejected. One had tried to show affection by capturing a moment by walking to the top of the local hill, often called ‘The Hill of Love’ as so many events involved the hill, and showed his love by setting off fireworks on her birthday. A highly illegal action for the simple reason that despite everyone loving fireworks, it was a fire risk for the trees. But Tom did it. Went to jail. Publicly sentenced to put others off. The only reason the judge undid some of his restrictions was because after 3 months it was clear Claire could not care at all and the boy was fool hardy. Public embarrassment was a stronger message than anything the judge could do.

But after 3 big events, Claire stopped enjoying them too. Her story does not end badly for her. She was not the first to try this. But she is one of those stories people tell their children when discussing love. Some will listen. But not all.

Rachel did. She heard the stories and listened. Seeing Claire as they grew up confirmed it for her. But it made her slowly stay away from being centre of attention. To chose the quiet room to read or a tree to sit under and listen to the breeze around her.

So when the day came she met that someone special, she didn’t give hints. Fearing to repeat what had happened to others that she had seen. But after about 2 years, it happened.

Discussions of living together, growing old together, having a place to settle down started. The future was becoming less scary and growing old, together, was a happy place for her. Then Alex did the one thing Rachel didn’t expect.

A swing was made.

Alex disappeared for a few days and when they returned, held Rachel’s hand and took her on a journey. After a couple hours walk the hidden waterfall pass was climbed. To see it, the trek took you out to the trees and through rocky outcrops and be able to see the waterfall. Not many started the trek on the other side to see it, fewer would finish it to sit and watch the water flow over the top. Today this would change.

With her eyes closed, Rachel sat on a seat with the whispered words, “hold tight”.

Slowly Alex pushed and Rachel held on. Creaks and huffing followed but she held, her feet not touching the floor.

A call came “Open your eyes!”. Above the sound of the waterfall Rachel had to be told twice.

She had never seen it up close. No one had. Alex had built a private swing for people to see it. Others would come and use it. Others would sit and watch and dream as the water flowed over the side and fell 100 feet. But this moment, this chair, was hers.

She was the first and it was made for her.

Gifts for the new King

The new King, Tymorth, son of Daumere, sat on his throne as the first door was being put into place. Surrounding him were the gifts from the farm collectives that would feed not only his own kingdom, but had become the vital part of trade and the wider economy of the continent. They were all a reminder, that all Kings would never be able to have such impact as their greatest leader. It was this idea that had sent previous kings searching for a quest to rival it, only ending in their warriors to return, defeated, with their King on his shield to be buried in the Tomb of their kin.

The rough face of the young leader perused the hoard, each a reminder of the connections with the Kingdom that he would have to carefully manage, but also to the links outside the natural barrier that kept them safe from the farthest of enemies that might threaten mankind. There was the usual collection of gold, weapons, treasures from the past that to the right holder would have them giggling with glee to hold such vestiges of history in their hands. The axe that slay the last goblin Grute that entered the natural barrier, heralding such honour that it was the mightiest of Goblins to have marched through the kingdoms of man all those years ago. But to the casual passer-by, it was a half rotten handle that had barely kept its shape along with a heavily oiled axe head to attempt to keep it from ruin. The box it travelled in had been rebuilt countless times, one day it will only be a piece of metal, that if the label got lost, could easily have been tossed away.

What caught the young King’s eye first, was the comb, hand delivered by the Dwarves that live just outside his Kingdom. As jovial relations are with them, the threat they could pose was always in mind. All villages knew the horror that a dwarven attack could bring, every family had tales of what they had witnessed, who they had lost. The Border Wars was not just a story, it kept the warriors well trained knowing a friend can easily become an enemy, and a line in the ground does not mean the same to another as it might to you.

There were a collection of tokens, but the dwarf, who had been dressed in ceremonial clothing and armour, at least for that was what his advisor had told him they were dressed in. The rumours of the Dwarf skill at metal work and fine jewels appeared to be fairy tales from what he saw in their clothing. But those of the Hammer and those of the Smith were different to the Border Dwarfs. To their kin they were seen as wild, untamed and ones to be avoided. The emissary from the Dwarfs of the Hammer had delayed their trip for 3 days, to simply make sure there would be no time for them to meet, or even be in the same land as each other if possible.

His accent was strange, but one that was understandable to the young King. ‘Greetings young King,’ Was this an attempt at insult for meeting a freshly crowned head? ‘You have a strong line behind you and your ancestors will be proud. The runes speak of a strong arm for an axe, or a sword if you prefer. A steady shield we see in your future, one that protects not just you, but those behind you.’

It wasn’t until his uncle made a sign to do something that the young Kind realised that they were all waiting for him to respond. ‘My thanks to you, emissary of the Dwarfs.’

‘I am not an emissary of the Dwarf. I come from my own kin and we are here to welcome you to your new seat. I see that you will have to add some elements of the world to your learning in between your weapon, and farming, lessons.’

The mottled grey of chainmail and the wolf skins on top might look more for show than those standing behind the Dwarven figure, but the shining axe by his side and shield held on his back made it clear that he could use them if required. The young King looked at the dwarf, now testing the water with the him, the warnings of how he should be with them, and not to anger them was clear, but if his uncle was to be in charge, he would be doomed to be a King in name only.

‘I can see that we both need lessons, one of my understanding of the dwarven kin and kingdoms, and for you,’ a moments pause to collect a breath, it was only a moment but the stories of the young boy in front of a dwarf in the wars and the rapid changes that can happen in a blink of an eye, a slice of an axe, a moment can appear to feel a long time when there is suddenly one in front of you not attempting to hide slight insults to you. ‘For you, I feel we need to explore more how we shall talk to each other. We do not call our leaders young or make fun of them in front of others. It can be seen as rude and challenging.’

It had slipped out. His uncle visibly froze to hold his hand back, the phrase had almost been written on every wall in each village, never challenge a dwarf. The young King held his gaze and waited for what would be coming. In the middle of the throne room stood the dwarf chosen to represent the dwarfs who were called wild by their own kin, with 6 ceremonial guards to follow. Each with gilded weapons but the steel was there to fight if needed.

‘I knew you would be a good choice for this Kingdom!’ The laughter echoed around the room with a sigh from the guards at the door who heard every word. ‘I told our chief that you were a good one, your father always spoke of you kindly, but said you had a stubborn streak that was not to be tested.’

With the abrupt laughter, came an about turn, and they left.

No one spoke until the King’s uncle came to speak but the first words were the Kings. ‘Before you try to lecture me on how to talk and greet these dwarves into my kingdom remember, I am the King that makes the call to the villages to put down their seeds, and pick up their swords. I am the one who sits and sees the first shield come in from the war. I am the one who needs to not flinch when an axe holder is there in front of me. Leave my side now uncle. I will call for you after the moon has gone.’

Slowly the room filtered out, the entourage of his uncle followed, allowing the King’s own guards replace themselves elsewhere to guard down the corridor, leaving the new King and his personal aid to review the gifts they had been given and the great catalogue could begin for the start of his reign.

‘You didn’t need to be so hard on your uncle there Tymorth.’

‘What would you have me do? Let him order me around in front of everyone?’ His eye were drawn to the Goblin Axe, the history of the great deeds always were a reminder to a new king. The long corridor for all visitors past the archways. A reminder to the new bearer of the throne that there could be a door added to each to show their great deeds. Or, as the axe whispered to all that held it in their possession, their actions can leave behind stories when they themselves have passed to be collected by one of the family.

‘So what did the dwarves bring?’ Ja’Mar was always interested in symbolism, the idea of a gift being given had to have a meaning. He always wanted to find something that had a meaning to the person he was giving as opposed to the large golden jewel encrusted pieces that people might choose to give. The small objects often had pride of place, jewels were to be hidden away if possible.

The idea of these dwarves giving a gift to a new king was rare, his father was given a chest of items, an axe made by their blacksmiths, but it was designed for a strong warrior meaning his father could never weald it. His childhood disease stopped him from being able to use both arms properly. To those that live by what they produce, it was a mark of dishonour that took many years to repair as they had made the gift, finely balanced to excellent detail, but the choice of metal meant it was wrong.

When Tymorth was born, they attempted to bring a small gift, a toy that their young would play with, to make them grow up to be strong warriors. Not many knew, but he still had it in his most prized possessions, but never dared ask anyone how he was meant to play with it. It would be ignorant to ask his father as he should know, and to ask anyone else would reflect on his father failing to teach him.

‘So here we have the most unknown community around, giving you a light axe, I guess they didn’t want to repeat the last time.’ His eyes spoke with fondness of the past King, a beloved leader to his people and a personal mentor to Ja’Mar. ‘Interesting, they have given a comb, I guess this is to welcome you to manhood when you decide to grow a beard of quality. Dwarves like a good beard, tells a story by how you plate and decorate it.’

He passed the comb over to Tymorth. The weight was light but strong to sort out what must be messy beards for them. They always seemed to glisten in the light from the torch light. The oils they used must resilient to heat or that would cause a problem in itself.

‘What else have they given me then?’

Ja’Mar had already laid out the items to review and record. Writing was a skill not all got to learn, but one that he liked to use whenever it was possible to. ‘Let me see. We have the comb, the axe, a series of 5 golden coins with some markings on each. A map of our border with them on hide. I guess this is a reminder that they honour the treaty. Looks to be the same. Might be worth having someone check it for fine details.’

Tymorth was listening but the way comb was shaped. It fit into his hand as if it was made for him. There were numerous finger points for when it motioned the combing of a future beard, if he were to grow one. “Say what you will about the Border Dwarven Kingdom, but they mighth produce the best beard combs in the Kingdom.”

“You know they use the bones from their enemies to show how they have conquered them, meaning our grandparents from the Border Wars?”

“Well that ruined that gift from the King.”

Carefully, the comb was placed down next to him as he pushed it over the Ja’Mar to add to the pile for sorting and storing. Each gift would have to be responded to properly to make sure no slight was given to those who have joined in the celebration of a new King.

The returning of a bone from someone who was killed in combat, the Dwarfs had been said to have different traditions, this was one that might need to be explored further.

Alphabet Project – A

There is a door down the street, there always is for the right person. As you walk down there are dull streetlights hanging limply over some park cars, some have seen better days, one is more duct tape than paint. The door you are looking for is all that breaks up a row of terraced housing among the gloomy lamps will be on the left, or the right depending on your persuasion or direction of travel. Along with how you comprehend left and right. Some do not.

But along this road, there is a door, somewhere, and when you do find it, you might try to open it. There are houses on both sides, so if it opens, you will only find a corridor. Nothing fancy, plain walls. A few pictures of some of the founding members for the establishment. One is a politician, it doesn’t need a name tag, you will know when you see.

But at the end of the corridor, apart from a small box, is another door. This one is another front door, albeit a little more fancy, the type of one that has glass that you can see yourself in and a shiny handle which can show your fillings. No number.

You have come this far, why not go a little further?

Beyond is what you need. For some, there is a long bar, a stool to sit on and a person behind it cleaning a glass with a towel, just like you have seen done in the movies. You may tell your friends that there is an amazing secret bar hidden in the street that you have found. In the future they will see the bar, drink there and toast to your find.

There may, of course, be more of a club scene when you enter. The music is all the classics from your youth when you danced the night away with that special someone who got away. The happy memories when you were young and didn’t have a care in the world. The next day, like when you were young, you have no hangover, not tired. It was a night just like the good old days.

Rooms can change, businesses develop, it could be a quiet café when you go in. A small selection of coffee, nothing pretentious. A place where a black coffee is, a black coffee. The chairs are comfortable and feel solid. They will serve vegetarian marshmallows with oat milk for your hot chocolate if it’s your way. It might be a place where you can sit, relax and work on that novel. Either to read or to write. But a quiet place for you to escape and have some time to get it finished.

When you chose to leave, the door will be waiting for you. You will find the street much like it was. The row of terraced houses will still be there. The duct tape on the car will still be competing for space with paint. But the lights may seem a little brighter. You may walk down the street and whistle, you may pull your coat in a little tighter as your hair flutters from the weather.

The Antidote door may not always fix your problems. But it is there to give you space to try to combat them. To give you a chance to take control and have time for you. Just remember to leave your feedback in the box. That way the room can do better next time. Should you need a second dose.

A is for Antidote.

The Date

Michelle watched the glass slowly fill with grape juice. At least that was what her mother had called it when she was young. It took her longer than she would like to admit, but she eventually realised that when it was called grape, it had really been fermented and made into wine. A drink she was now ordering for a second time, alone.

This was not the first time it had happened, in fact, she was starting to worry that she might be on first name terms with some of the staff soon. She wouldn’t tell anyone, but this was actually the second time within a week. It was probably the suggestion that she would need to end the night by 9.30, the need to be up early and a long day ahead was just a sensible precaution. To Michelle, this was forward planning. To let the person know that when she starts to clock watch at 9pm, it is not them but a need to leave to get a good night sleep.

Her friends had told her that this meant she was really telling the person that there was no chance of a happy ending to the evening. A phrase that always made her shudder and smile in equal measure.

Picking a place for a first meet with someone is always a difficult idea for her. Too fancy and this sends the wrong message, but too cheap implies something maybe too casual or not committed, or that she isn’t successful. Either way, too much thought had been given and trying to make a ratio of average cost on the menu to number of messages over the length of time for talking. Michelle needed to stop making spreadsheets and adapting the formula.

When the restaurant bring over a complimentary dish, this is probably a sign that they have taken pity on you for being stood up. What frustrated her more though, was that the dish looked too appealing to walk out and leave behind. So there she was, a successful, confident and independent women, drinking back a second glass of wine eating a complimentary pity dish with the eyes of all the staff, and probably half the guests too, watching her knock back each morsel.

At least I will be back before 8.30 tonight to prepare for my interview tomorrow.