H - 30: It's Less Funny When it Happens to You (Patreon)

The hoard of Atraximos the Dread contained some truly surprising novelties. Browsing through the contents, Kaln discovered that it should be possible for him to assemble an entire kitchen out of various enchanted tools which would be able to do everything from conjuring its own water and banishing waste, to storing food in perpetual freshness and even automatically cooking food without the touch of any hand. Getting all that set up, however, would be at minimum an all-day project, and considering how the various magical parts with entirely different origins and eclectic sources of power would have to be arranged to interact with each other, he’d probably need Emeralaphine’s help to build it without blowing himself up.

That was a challenge for another day. For now, Kaln brought out a simple brazier of eternal flame and some mundane cookware—mundane in function, though its exquisite design and jewel-accented golden handles were so absurd he failed to imagine anyone rich and out of touch enough to even commission something like this, much less use it. All of it worked, at least.

The good news was that he had plenty of food after their visit to the Silver Hound, and it would keep perfectly inside his bag of holding; the bad was that Kaln had not been fibbing Izayaroa about his cooking skills. That night he reduced several eggs to smoking ruin and ultimately dined on some pastries and candied nuts he’d bought in the Roundabout. Breakfast the next morning was a pear and some unseasoned white rice he successfully cooked himself. It was…fine. Bland, especially after all the Verdi street food, but wholesome and nourishing, and simple enough that even he wasn’t so incompetent as to ruin it.

After this uninspiring breakfast, he went for a rinse and brief soak in the bath. The only other family member present that morning was Vadaralshi, and Kaln quickly decided to forego future baths if she was present with no moderating influences; she only stopped trying to dunk him after he turned the tables and forcibly held her underwater. Kaln wasn’t a forceful person by nature, but he was quickly coming to understand the rough treatment the kids got from their mothers; he didn’t think he’d survive living with dragon teenagers if he couldn’t manhandle them at need.

From there he returned to his chambers, dressed and equipped himself, and stepped back outside, where he paused again to just take in the view of the huge central chamber. It was quite lovely when clean and fully lit; the Timeglass really brought out the warm golds and bronzes of the room, a vast improvement over the gray dimness of before.

Two Phantom Legionaries stood guard on either side of his door, as they did on every door now. Catching sight of another passing through this area and dusting off the wall paneling, Kaln did a double-take.

“Soldier, why are you out of uniform?”

The ghost immediately stopped dusting, snapping to attention and saluting him. There she just stood, unresponsive. Oh—of course, they couldn’t talk.

Just as Kaln was wondering what to do about this, a puff of glowing mist appeared and solidified into the Legion’s commander, who also saluted him. Then he conjured a heavy book, opened it, and held it up to show Kaln one of the pages.

At least the letters were clear despite the translucent shape of the book itself; they helpfully glowed, neat little lines of blue light against the ghostly parchment. Unfortunately, they were in Darashi.

So now he had two ghosts standing at attention—four, including the nearby door guards—and no idea what they were trying to tell him. Just as he was about to give up and dismiss them all, Kaln suddenly had a thought.

Reaching out with his senses, he could detect all the dragons as easily as his own limbs. His wives were all in their chambers asleep; Vadaralshi was swooping around the mountains outside just for fun, Vanimax had left the area—probably hunting—and Pheneraxa was reading in the library.

He focused, flexed his will. Teleportation was supposedly the most difficult kind of magic, but his peculiar divinity clearly gave him a shortcut to it. One he could use only to move to or escape from a dragon. But what if he could…invert it?

Kaln flexed his concentration, and Pheneraxa appeared before him.

She shot bolt upright, snorting in surprise and peering around. Then her gaze fixed on Kaln and her expression changed into an outraged snarl.

“You! I was reading, you unrepentant hoodlum!”

“Hey, it worked!” he said brightly.

She exhaled a blast of fire at him. It had no effect on Kaln, or the ghosts.

“Thank you for helping with my experiment, Pheneraxa,” he said, putting on his most calm and polite aspect. “That was a huge step; this unlocks some great possibilities. Sorry about the surprise, but I actually need your help with something else. I don’t know anyone else who can read classical Darashi.”

She growled, pointedly baring her teeth, but Kaln could tell it was for show; her ire was already fading, and she needed no more prompting to look at the commander’s book. It was worth noting that Pheneraxa had even less experience socializing with people than her mother. She might lack some of Emeralaphine’s specific blind spots, but flattery still worked very well when directed at her weak spot. As he’d suspected, praising her intellect was the quickest path to results.

“Oh. Is this about this soldier’s outfit?”

“You can tell that from the book?”

“She’s in a different uniform from the others and the commander’s here showing you their regulations manual. I do possess the basic ability to interpret context clues, Kaln. She’s in compliance, if that’s what you’re worried about. Apparently when posted outside the territory of Amaar-Darash—which is everywhere, now—they are to adopt unit-specific uniforms conforming to appropriate standards of attire for the task to which the soldier in question is assigned, modified to display appropriate insignia, and in Darashi colors. This one is now doing housekeeping work, so she’s traditionally attired as a Valeri maid, with a few additions.”

Kaln blinked at her, then at the book, then at the commander and the soldier still at attention. Their spectral skulls gave nothing away, even with the occasional glimpses of mummified flesh that evanesced across them. The colors were washed out by their ephemeral condition, but on a closer look he could see what Pheneraxa was talking about: the ghost soldier’s uniform had the tight cuffs and high, starched collar of the same shirts they wore under their armor, showing embroidered stripes and pins whose significance he couldn’t interpret. She also had braided cords attached to her left shoulder in a doubtless meaningful configuration. Other than that, the soldier now wore a simple long skirt and over that a ruffled apron—embroidered with a large, unfamiliar symbol that he supposed must have been some Darashi heraldry. He’d seen domestic servants at both the Renaissance and the Silver Hound in Boisverd with similar attire.

“Uh…okay,” Kaln said slowly. “What kind of regulation is that for an army?”

“Amaar-Darash was a fascinating society,” Pheneraxa said, now grinning in amusement at his confusion, and clearly too into her role as expositor to hold a grudge over her abrupt teleportation. “The only pacifist expansionist empire in recorded history. They were fixated on culture; the Darashi actively and eagerly absorbed rituals, practices, iconography, everything they could from other cultures and integrated them into their own pluralistic system where they maintained wide diversity under a singular cultural umbrella. I think Izayaroa took quite a few ideas from them in setting up Rhivaak, in fact. At the same time, they exported culture as well, and just gradually absorbed their neighbors. By the time the governments yielded to the inevitable, their nations were functionally Darashi and the transfer of power was all but a formality. Their armies were trained to serve as police, engineers, laborers of all kinds, even diplomats; Amaar-Darash sent them out into every country which didn’t actively close their borders to them. The Legions of Amaar would supply disaster relief whenever anything bad happened anywhere, and even make big public works projects in other countries at no cost—all part of their policy of spreading their influence.”

She paused, turning her head to glance at the two impassive ghost soldiers bracketing the door, then returned her attention to Kaln with a wry little grin.

“Consequently, they were one of the least effective fighting forces of their era. When Amaar-Darash’s borders came up against those of another empire which did not share their slow and steady approach to conquest, it went…very badly for them. Which I’m sure provides some context for how this lot ended up the way they did. So, the troops assigned housekeeping duties have modified uniforms of housekeeping staff of the old Valereld Empire—either because this was Valeri territory back in their day, or because it’s now Verdi territory and most of the Evervales nations maintain as many old Valeri customs as they can to prop up their legitimacy.”

“Huh,” Kaln mused, turning to study the soldier-maid again. She was still standing at attention, duster held at her side…more like a sword than a cleaning tool, he now noticed. “Well. I definitely wouldn’t have pieced all that together. Thank you very much, Pheneraxa, that was extremely helpful.”

“Knowledge is power,” she said smugly.

“And thank you, Commander,” he added. “This is all counter-intuitive to me, but it seems a fine enough rule and I see no reason to deprive you of your culture. Apologies for the interruption, soldier. Carry on.”

The commander and the maid both saluted; the former dissolved into mist right before their eyes, while the latter transmogrified her spectral feather duster into a spectral mop and began scrubbing away the scorch marks Pheneraxa had just made on the Timestone floor.

“If that’s all, then,” the dragon said, already beginning to turn away.

“Now, wait a second,” said Kaln. “You and I have an errand today, remember? Since we’re both here, why not head out?”

She sighed. “I confess I had somewhat hoped you’d forgotten. As I believe I mentioned to you, Kaln, I was reading.”

“When aren’t you? This’ll be a chance to see some practical magic up close!”

“There’s plenty of magic in books,” she said sullenly. “Both literal and otherwise. Mother has so many spellbooks.”

“Come on, Pheneraxa, aren’t you like a hundred years old? Surely you’ve read everything in that library by now.”

She rounded on him, her tail lashing in agitation. “That is not how libraries work! A library isn’t a novel, you don’t just go through it from end to end! I was re-reading one of my favorite books, for your information. Weren’t you raised in a library? How is this something I actually have to explain to you?”

“Why, yes I was,” he said innocently. “So that’s something we have in common! Except I was raised socially, with a lot of other archivists and orphans in the same training program. You’ve really missed out on the experience of how we book people rib each other. But don’t you worry, I’m here now to make sure you get a properly well-rounded education.”

Her blue eyes narrowed to slits, bisected by her equally narrowed pupils. “You know what? I liked you a lot better when you were all nervous and uncertain.”

“I think you’ll find I grow on you.” He patted her nose, which made her snort and shake herself in annoyance. “Anyway! Off to see the wizard. Oh, wait, actually—the success of my earlier experiment gave me an idea I want to try out. Bear with me for a second.”

Pheneraxa’s eyes widened and she reared up in alarm. “Wait—”

Not waiting, Kaln focused and exerted his will again. Right before him, the blue dragon vanished. Reaching out with his senses, he could sense her location—on the front plaza outside the lair on the Dragonvale side. As usual, he was equally able to discern her status and intention, and she was decidedly unhappy. Kaln fixed his concentration on her and focused again.

The sensation was almost familiar by now: the world blurred around him for a split second and then he was outside, standing right before Pheneraxa. In the near distance, the two Phantom Legionaries guarding the door were just returning to attention, probably having raised weapons when a dragon popped out of the air in front of them.

Pheneraxa whirled and smacked him with her tail, which he barely even felt.

“Do you have any idea,” she snarled, “how annoying it is to be spontaneously and nonconsensually teleported about?”

“I do not,” he readily admitted. “But hey, look on the bright side! Based on what you’ve told me about this wizard we’re going to see, I might find out today! You’ll get a kick out of watching that, I’m sure.”

“He’s more the type to open a portal under your feet and drop you into the bottom of the ocean, or outer space,” she warned. “I strongly advise you to get over whatever sprightly mood you’re in today and go back to that smooth, diffident thing you had going on before. Not that that will impress him, either, but if you actively antagonize this guy it could go quite badly for us all.”

“What will impress him, then?”

“Nothing!” she exclaimed. “He does not want to see or interact with people. I thought we went over this!”

“Well, I’ve sifted through the hoard and packed up a few things he’ll hopefully find enticing,” Kaln said, patting his bag of holding. “All we have to do is not piss him off for the few minutes it’ll take me to invoke his mortal avarice. Which I’m assuming he does have?”

“As much as anyone, I suppose,” she huffed. “Wizards always want more power and knowledge, and he does collect stuff.”

“Seriously, though,” Kaln said, suiting his words with a more solemn expression. “You’re friends with this guy. How’d that happen, if he’s so unpleasant to everyone and you never want to leave your library?”

She hesitated, raising her head to glare down at him, the tip of her tail flicking back and forth. Kaln just gazed back in perfect calm, waiting.

“Well…it’s not as if we’re close,” Pheneraxa finally said. “I started visiting him on a whim. To be honest, at first I got a kick out of the fact that he was annoyed by the interruptions but didn’t dare do anything about it. I know we’ve made a point of how dangerous it can be to fight a portal mage, and that’s true, but the same works in reverse. Nobody rational wants to pick a fight with a dragon unnecessarily, and I’m not just any dragon. He definitely didn’t want to mix it up with my parents, which is what would have ensued if he did anything serious to me.”

“Ah,” Kaln said solemnly. “Sort of like our dynamic right now, then, in reverse. I guess it’s less funny when it happens to you?”

Pheneraxa snorted an annoyed puff of smoke at him, but didn’t bother to refute the point. “And then it sort of…settled in. Don’t get me wrong, Shadrach really doesn’t like people or appreciate interruptions, but he’s also the type to be unnecessarily rude and standoffish to his actual friends. At this point I know he actually does enjoy talking with me, though he still feels the need to be an ass about it every single time.”

“Shadrach, hm,” Kaln mused. “That’s a Rhiva name.”

“Yes, he’s from around there,” she said offhandedly. “Same general phenotype as you, similar accent. I’d advise you not to try to trade on that to curry favor. Wherever he’s from and whatever happened there, it’s notable that he left and sought out solitude.”

“Well, I’m certainly sympathetic to that. I also left, remember, and I’m not much more eager to delve into the details.”

Pheneraxa lowered her head to study him from up close. “You know, you’re eventually going to have to tell us that story.”

“Am I, though?” Kaln rejoined with a sweet smile, once again patting her nose. She bared her teeth at him. “But that’s a discussion for another day. For now! Thank you for the rundown, but we should probably be off. We’ve got a whole day of father-daughter bonding ahead of us!”

She hissed aggressively at him, which at that proximity still managed to set off a primal surge of terror deep in his hindbrain. Pheneraxa might be half the size of his consorts, but with her jaws fully opened this close it was impossible not to notice that he was, at most, two bites to her. By this point he was sufficiently used to dragons that he could suppress it without outward reaction.

Instead, Kaln focused again, and flickered instantaneously through the air, landing astride Pheneraxa’s neck, where he immediately invoked the same magic he’d used previously with Izayaroa to secure his seat. This immediately proved important she she jumped in surprise at his landing and spun about, which would otherwise have unseated him.

This was both better and worse than riding Izayaroa. Her smaller size made her a more convenient mount, but had the downside that her back spines were much closer together; Kaln was wedged between the two largest, being poked unpleasantly right in the sternum. Being inherently immune to dragons it didn’t hurt, exactly, but it wasn’t what he’d call comfortable.

“You are a pest!” Pheneraxa roared in exasperation, spinning back the other way. “What has gotten into you today?”

“I appreciate you, Pheneraxa,” Kaln said, bending to one side to pat her neck. “And not just your help today, though thank you for all of that. You remind me a lot of some of my favorite people from back at the Archives. I didn’t even realized how much I’d missed chatting and joshing with fellow book people. Talking with you makes me feel…at home.”

She paused in her shifting and pivoting, twisting her neck around to look at him directly. In that moment, he could see quite a bit of her mother to her—that same vulnerability to sincere expressions of positive feeling, that uncertainty in the face of genuine emotion. Poor kid; all the book learning in the world didn’t leave you any less vulnerable to actual feelings when you met actual people.

Kaln just smiled at her, silently resolving that he must be careful to use this power for good and not for ill. Pheneraxa had the same quality as both of her siblings—they might be older than humans usually lived to be, but they were all so…sheltered. Isolated, deprived of experiences. In a word, immature; they all acted like teenagers. He could do a lot to build up her wisdom and self-esteem if he was properly supportive—but by the same token, he could cause some real damage if he was careless or selfish in his dealings with her. Her, and the other two.

The absolute last thing Kaln needed was traumatized dragons flying around the world with his face attached to their personal childhood terrors. He feared he was already dangerously close to that point with Vanimax.

“There it is,” Pheneraxa grunted after studying him narrowly for a moment. “You really are a smooth talker, Ar-Kaln Zelekhir. Tell me, how much trouble did that get you into back home in Rhivkabat?”

“It was the source of all my greatest successes,” he said with a roguish grin. “And yes, also trouble. Basically all of it. Some people can cause you a lot more damage if they like you than if you don’t; life’s all about finding the right people to surround yourself with.”

“Hah!” Her laugh came out as a terse, incredulous bark. “Well, you’ve certainly failed in that regard.”

“Nonsense,” he replied, smiling. “I like you. I’m looking forward to getting to know all of you better.”

“You have terrible judgment.”

“There’s good in everybody, Pheneraxa. Or if ‘good’ is too vague a concept… Let’s just say there’s something interesting about everyone, something that makes it worth hearing their story and learning what makes them tick. I’ve met some truly awful people, but never anyone who didn’t have something to like about them. Just as you like your mother, and your siblings, and this guy Shadrach. Some people are cactus pears: prickly, but worth it.”

“I don’t know why under every uncategorized hell you think I like my siblings.”

“Maybe I’m projecting, there,” he admitted quietly. “It just seems like it’d be awfully sad if you didn’t.”

The dragon turned away from him, stepping forward toward the edge of the platform. “They’re useless idiots, both of them. I allow them to live because I wouldn’t survive what their mothers would do if I finished them off.”

Kaln patted her scales again. “Well, that just won’t do. I guess I have a new project, then!”

“Oh,” she said sourly, “good. Great. That’s something to look forward to. Hold on and don’t expect a smooth ride. I’ve never flown with someone on top of me before and I don’t even know yet how badly you’re going to mess up my aerodynamics.”

She slammed her wings down and sent them rocketing off the platform, and while Kaln might not be an expert, he was reasonably sure she was making this flight rougher than it needed to be.

He just held on and let her get it out of her system. They had a long way to go.