Chapter 33
Istir the next morning with a melancholy fermented in my bones from the truth in the words I spoke last night.
I decide there’s no better way to warm my soul than to spend my free weekend at the forge, working metal. Something I can actually control. Something I’m good at.
I shower and head back to my room to change, thankful not to have an escort for the first time in months. I’m not sure if they’re all too hungover or if being bonded to the biggest dragon on the continent melted their worries away. There’s also a loneliness I am unaccustomed to.
“You’ll never be alone again.” Calais’ voice booming in my head is as sobering as a hot morning cup of kahvi.
“Good morning to you, too.” I smile in return.
I bind an extra round of fabric around my breasts since I know the sweat of the forge makes it easier to slip. I opt for a black tank and loose-fitting tunic pants, breathable in the heat of the Universitás foundry. My hair is tied into a tight bun at the back of my head.
Pip is feeling adventurous and turns into a decorative metal pin with a small version of a Celestial Dragon at the end, similar to an image I’ve seen drawn in ancient texts when exploring the archives.
I’ve learned to stop questioning the magic of my impossible orange companion.
I place the pin at the base of my leather-bound updo.
“Before you head to the forge, meet me in the field outside the Mysticwoods,” Calais commands. I don’t question her, especially after she hasn’t drawn out my suffering with any additional snarky remarks about my poor choices last night.
I head to the dining hall, snatching my breakfast to go, with extra for Pip.
My lungs burn delightfully as I run my morning jog down to the field south of Gildorea just before the Mysticwoods. As I reach the clearing, Calais is already there waiting for me, tail whipping with annoyance.
Fully taking in her presence catches my breath.
Her iridescent scales capture the morning rays from the east, painting her in colors of creamy orange and mauve.
On the opposite side, her body is a mirror of all the colors of the Mysticwoods.
Her four wings, dipped in white feathers, stretch wide.
Blue sparks dance across the biometallic, lightning-conductor spikes dipped in blue across her back.
The ribbon-like flesh along her eel-like tail waves in the breeze.
Crescent moons bejewel her crown, sparkling in the sunlight, while the large spears that frame her face glisten like ice, rebelling the sun’s plea to watch them melt.
As we get close to her, there’s movement in my hair. Pip is suddenly crawling down my arm and racing to Calais, whose rainbow eyes narrow on him with an expression I can’t read.
“Sorry about Pip.” I chase after him, but the little scoundrel is far too fast when he wants to be.
“You call him Pip?” she scoffs with an audible grumble.
“What's wrong with Pip?”
“Has he not told you his true name?”
“He can’t talk.”
“Yet.”
“Well then, how do you know his name?”
“That is not for you to know. Yet.”
“Of course it’s not.” I sigh, my head dipping back as I pray to the Celestials to give me patience with the lightning-breathing dragon before me. “Well, can you tell me his true name, at least?”
“Our kind would refer to him as Cadens Regulus.”
“Seems rather ostentatious for this little trickster, so I’m going to keep calling him Pip. Until he can tell me otherwise.” I shrug as Calais lowers her head to snort in my face. This time, I brace myself, so instead of tumbling backwards, I just slide across the dew-covered grass.
“There is a loose scale on the right side of my chest. Right next to my heart. A new one is already starting to grow underneath it. I want you to take this scale and use it to create a long sword.”
“I don’t like long swords. They unbalance me,” I begrudgingly admit. There’s no point lying to a dragon who can read my thoughts.
“It doesn’t really matter. It will be as you need it to be. Or make a short sword, to match the one that Cadens Regulus helped you forge.”
“And how do you know about that?”
“He told me. Obviously. And I have access to your memories, new and old.”
“What!?”
“If you don’t know that, then what are they even teaching you at that excuse of a university?”
“Not that, obviously.” I cross my arms, annoyed at yet another breach of my privacy.
“Well, get used to it. I can already feel what you feel. Soon, you will feel as I feel. You will need to enhance your mental shielding. Might I suggest the Shadowmancer for shielding practice? He has a certain way of getting through the walls of your mind… If only you would listen.”
“No. I will not practice with him. We shouldn’t be near one another. And what are you both going on about listening? I can listen well enough.”
“Then you are not ready.”
“Ready for what?”
“Ready to truly listen.”
“You two are both equally annoying.” I huff over my crossed arms.
“As is your stubbornness, on all the wrong things,” she growls before continuing, “Remember to keep that blade with you. Give it to Cadens Regulus. He will know what to do with it.” She nods downwards, reminding me to grab the scale from her massive chest.
Her scales are enormous, each the size of a cavalry shield. My fingers graze against those covering the right side of her heart until they catch on the loose one. Her enormous heart beats slow and steady beneath my hands. With a good amount of tugging, and some wiggling, it comes free.
Despite its size, it’s exceptionally light.
She’s right; there is another, smaller scale beneath, covering most of her skin, but no doubt this area will be a deadly weakness until the new scale is full-sized.
Her skin color reminds me of snow crystals—icy white, almost translucent, but with a sparkle to it.
Or perhaps it’s more akin to frozen tears of the Celestial Dragon that course through her blood.
I step back to examine the translucent, iridescent scale.
With the bend of her legs, Pip scurries down, leaping towards me. I hold out her scale to catch Pip, bracing myself for Calais’ take-off. Despite sliding backwards, I’ll never tire of the beauty of watching her tear through the clouds, becoming invisible amongst them.
Sweat drips down my temple. I’ve been sledging away in the forge all day. Calais’ dragon scale is exceptionally hard. It took me hours just to figure out how to break it.
It required Pip’s dragon fire heating it over and over again until it glowed like hot metal, then shattered like glass.
I’ve just finished grinding it up and melting it, thankful to find no impurities. However, there’s way too much material for a short sword.
She’s right; I’ll need to make a longsword. I hear her grumbles in my head at my acknowledgement. In fact, the amount of material will require a greatsword for the ratio of metal to imbued ingredient to be correct, so the blade keeps its strength.
As the steel begins to take the shape of the blade, I hear the frequency I heard calling to me from the Mysticwoods, before Calais had arrived. It’s subtle but hums louder the more I work the metal, almost reminding me of a song.
I notice myself humming to it. The metal seems to respond, beginning to glow bright white. Interesting. I wonder what type of magic will come from her scale. I wait for the sharp voice of Calais in my head, yet it doesn’t come. Another secret for her to hoard and me to figure out.
After several more hours, my legs begin to wobble. I take a break to drink some water, restoring the sweat that glistens on my body.
My eyes drift down to Pip, curled up next to the forge.
No doubt enjoying the heat radiating from it.
He jerks in his sleep, like he’s having a bad dream.
I shout his name, trying to wake him, but he continues to wriggle frantically.
My flesh sears each step I take closer to the forge; I bite back at the pain.
Finally, I’m close enough to reach out and stroke him.
My touch seems to soothe him, extending his limbs out in a long stretch before curling back in the other direction.
I lurch back from the heat of the forge, enjoying the coolness pooling over my skin in comparison. I watch my seared flesh slowly heal in front of my eyes, as if nothing ever happened, but I can still feel the pain burning beneath my flesh.
Thankfully, the forge has a side door that leads outside.
It’s on the bottom floor, beneath the north wing of the dormitories.
I shakily step out to a late winter night.
The skies are clear, twinkling full of celestial diamonds.
My gaze drifts to the Dragon Spine Mountains in the distance, glimmering a deep purple under the moonlight.
Likely due to the cascading waterfalls that drain from the snow-filled tundra above.
The wind whips through the tall grass of the Midland plains.
It reminds me of a calm ocean of gold. I follow the current of waves rippling through the golden meadows, as if they are dancing to the sound of the universe.
I sit down, wrapping my arms around my bent knees.
My lashes flutter shut, the cool breeze evaporating the sweat from my skin.
I swear, for a second, I can hear the melody dancing through the meadow, the very hum of the universe, like it’s beckoning me.
It reminds me of the only memory I ever had of my mother. Her humming me to sleep in her arms.
I was just a babe though, so perhaps it was just a figment of my imagination.
My brain creating an illusion to soothe me on the coldest nights, to keep me from breaking completely.
It’s a soft melody with a chaotic beat that ebbs and flows, a tune unlike any other.
As soon as I open my eyes, the sound fades off into the distance.
Something so close but always out of reach. Secrets I am destined never to know. For I was just a feral beast, discarded for the universe to feast upon. Born to forever walk this world alone.
Yet there’s now a persistent part of my heart that begs to differ.
Yearning to reach for the heavens. Demanding more for my life.
As if it’s commanding the Fates to reweave my timeline.
Stitching in a love so bright, it threatens to unravel the cosmos at its seams. Untangling the twine of stories untold, the threads of life unfolded, as the price of love is paid. The words of forgotten memories.
An exasperated sigh deflates my chest. It’s selfish of my stupid little heart to crave what I cannot behold. Yet I gaze to the stars and dare to ask, “Do you ever think I can learn to love?”
I search the heavens for a response. The stars twinkle in the way they do, keeping their secrets close to their hearts.
I rest my forehead against my knees. What a foolish question to ask the heavens and think they would respond.
I lift my eyes to the skies once again, irrationally pleading for something more.
As if daring to respond to my desires, a golden falling star cleaves the sky in two.
The rainbow aura of colors dancing along its tail brings silver welling to my eyes.
Shades of deep violet merge seamlessly into brilliant indigo, transitioning into bright blues and emerald green before flowing into warm yellows, fiery oranges, and finally, a passionate red.
Vibrant colors cascade like ribbons in the sky, and darkness seems to weep with me, bowing to its beauty.
The mountains below become luminescent in their glow.
For a fleeting moment, time seems frozen in place.
The world holding its breath, captivated by the Celestial display.
The horizon becomes a kaleidoscope of colors as the ethereal star bursts into sparkling stardust, the wind dusting the heavenly glitter in its blessing.
My eyes grow wide as it kisses my skin in its gleaming embrace.
And for the briefest moment, my heart doesn’t feel so broken. Its gift: a glimpse of what a full heart might feel like. I tumble back into the grass, the overwhelming sensation of it all pouring from my lashes.
I doze off briefly, feeling as though I’ve awoken from the strangest dream.
I would have been inclined to believe it was all just a fantasy if it weren’t for the stardust still sparkling on my skin.
I head back to the forge to finish my work with an odd sensation in my heart I can’t quite put my finger on.
There’s something different now. Something magical.
Sweat drips off my brow, sizzling on the hot metal below as I work throughout the night until morning.
I once again begin humming the tune the sword sings to me, weaving runes in metal across the blade as if they are the words to a song I don’t know the lyrics to.
A gentle sort of peace rolls through my soul as I become one with the moment.
One with the blade before me.
As I sharpen the edges of my creation on the whetstone, I notice stardust shimmering through the white metal. This greatsword is imbued with the magic of a Moonstorm dragon and the dying breath of a shooting star.
There is something more to this than my other blades. Something that resonates with my soul, as if we were forged anew tonight in the breathtaking aurora of it all. The blade sings louder to me, its words finally clear.
Dream Singer.