Dramix sat and measured himself before drawing an outline for his new clothing. He knew the girth of his tail, and that his wings were narrow at the base. He worked the things his father taught him many years ago. It brought him back to the simple life. There was no need for complex decisions. No dreams of grandeur or worry about coming conflicts affected him right now. It was just a boy and his father, with one passing his trade down to the next.
The memories came to him as he worked, and the elves were amazed of his skills. He was careful and precise with his stitches. He let no piece go to waste. Any mistake was made into the garment. He remembered watching his father make similar clothing one day. He remembered the day well when the citizens bought a bolt of rare elf silk and offered it to his house in gratitude. He was starting to become a man, and he was now noticing the differences in genders and becoming curious about them. Yet, he was poor and had little opportunity to look at such a thing.
When he did though, he was happy. This day, he had seen more women than any time before that, but it was little concern for him that day. He was excited to meet the master of the house he belonged to. Not only the Drakan, but the dragon as well. They landed, and his father carried the robe he made with the finest gems he could afford, and the best thread he could get. There was a line of others as well to make offerings. Some gave food or wine, while some even gave their daughters.
As the line moved, Dramix became amazed when he saw the inside of the house that he belonged to. It was a mighty marvel, but it wasn’t even among those considered as one of the great ones. His father bowed on his knees shortly after entering, so Dramix did so as well, as his father offered the robe.
“I’ve under your care for fifty years now, masters of my house. To you, I offer this robe. It’s made of….” (Dramix’s Father)
Dramix then heard a voice. He had seen the great ones before, but never up close. He looked amazed when he saw him.
“Green is a bland color. I shall use it as a rug.” (Mysterious Dragon Voice)
Dramix knew he shouldn’t have risen, but he was young and prideful.
“My father spent the last of his savings on this robe. Please reconsider. It matches your eyes.” (Young Dramix)
The room went silent when he said that.
That is when he realized that the housemaster didn’t speak those words that he heard. He went to his knees and bowed his head low, hoping to be spared from punishment, as the dragon moved along to the side of the room.
“He heard me. Perhaps this boy is a gift indeed. Get him tested.” (Mysterious Surprised Dragon)
Dramix paused his work. That day was the last day he saw his father. He looked happy, but also sad. He had worked hard in school, but he had graduated at an acceptable level despite his determiner attitude about things. He always thought about his father and how he was waiting for his return. How he wished for days he was learning the trade under his father. There was still a lot to learn from him.
While thinking about the past, he heard one of the elves speak.
“You take pride and care in your work. Since it’s been so long, we felt the warmth of your pride.” (Elderly Elf)
Dramix smiled joyfully.
He thought about Naleeit for a moment and hoped that he could pass his trade skill to a son just like his father did to him.
When Dramix wasn’t tailoring his new clothing, he was training.
When he wasn’t training, and when he wasn’t resting, he would meditate.
The place had an unnatural peace to it. His mind was sharp, and his wit just as sharp, as he sat on a stump of a tree that had fallen and was cut away.
He closed his eyes and listened to the wind and the birds. There was an uneasiness in the air. As he opened his mind to the higher plane, he didn’t find Peter there like he expected him to be.
He instead found another.
“I’ve been searching for the wayfarer who seemed to have gotten lost. Here I find him among the elves.” (Mysterious Dragon)
Dramix went to his hands and knees when he realized who it was.
“Great master! I am honored you would seek me out, but why?” (Dramix’s Spirit Talking)
The dragon looked at him in annoyance.
“I was expecting the shaman to make my blanket months ago. The nights have been growing colder.” (Mysterious Dragon)
“My apologies great master, but I have been bound to a great journey by my spirit. It will bring renown to your mighty house when I complete it.” (Dramix’s Spirit Talking)
The dragon paused even more annoyed.
“In reality, you have been chasing a woman halfway across the know lands in a fantasy dream of glory. If you desire it, you may bring her back to our house and she may join you after she earns her keep.” (Mysterious Dragon)
Dramix grew angry, but he held his tongue.
“Dramix, keep your word, or must I remind you what I will do?” (Peter’s Spirit Talking)
Dramix turned to see Peter in his drakan form.
“I don’t need a spirit telling my shaman what to do.” (Mysterious Dragon)
Peter eyed Dramix, then he looked away in shame.
He promised he would be there for Naleeit as her strength when she needed it. He was told to either leave or sacrifice her to the wolves of the house.
Dramix then raised himself up.
“What are you doing, young shaman? Do you dare defy the command of your great master?” (dragon)
Dramix turned back toward Peter.
“My father sold his soul to your house, but my soul is mine to do as I please with. My journey can’t end until it does. If anyone dares to touch her, they must go through me first.” (Dramix’s Spirit Talking)
The dragon raised up insulted.
“You dare to defy me? I gave your father everything. I gave you everything!” (dragon)
Dramix eyed the dragon angrily.
“You gave? You never even gave my father permission to use your house’s name when he traded. Did you give us food when my father paid his taxes to you when we didn’t have much? Did you give a thought about us other than when your tributes and sales were slow? Did you even bother remembering my name!? I am Dramix, son of a tailor, and I no longer count myself apart of your house!” (Dramix’s Spirit Talking)
The dragon vanished, then Dramix looked at Peter.
“It’s a start, but there’s a lot of starts. It’s how it ends that matters.” (Peter’s Spirit Talking)