Valkyrie's Shadow

Winter's Crown: Act 7, Chapter 15

Winter's Crown: Act 7, Chapter 15

Chapter 15

“Good Morning, Lady Zahradnik.”

“Good Morning,” Ludmila returned the Vampire Bride’s greeting, “I’m here to see Hejinmal. Is he available at the moment?”

The Vampire Bride went from the post office counter to the warehouse behind, stopping to look up at a board on the wall just past the doorway. After scanning the board for a few seconds, she beckoned for Ludmila to follow.

“He’s currently in his quarters, my lady,” the Vampire Bride said, “but I’m uncertain as to his availability. Please come with me.”

A day had passed since she spoke with Lady Shalltear about Ilyshn’ish, and her liege had suggested that Ludmila consult with Ilyshn’ish’s brother. She had visited immediately after leaving the post office headquarters that day, but it appeared that he was not in. The Frost Dragons in the transportation network, with the reduced volumes since the end of the Dwarven migration, worked three-day cycles where they were granted a day of rest for every two of deliveries. Understanding this, Ludmila asked for when Hejinmal had flown out and checked in again when she thought he would be off duty again. Fortunately for her, he was in that morning, as she had not considered what time of the day he would actually arrive.

Her ongoing instruction of the Frost Dragon was going as well as could be expected, given everything that Ludmila understood about her. Generally speaking, it meant that they focused on the more technical aspects of her education, ironing out misinterpretations of laws and customs, as well as working to polish her diction and form. Ilyshn’ish was currently scheduled to attend the Justice Dragon Dojo, a training hall for Monks that had established itself in the Demihuman quarter, so Ludmila thought the timing opportune to meet with Hejinmal.

The Vampire Bride led her past the aisles of warehouse shelves, which were mostly empty save for the areas nearest to where they went. Though it might have irritated a merchant, Ludmila paid it little mind as the space had been built to accommodate future volume, and the postal service was still a recent introduction to the Sorcerous Kingdom. She fully intended to use it for her magic item exports in the future, as it was ideal for transporting the expensive and often fragile goods. The security and spotless bookkeeping that came with the service were an added bonus.

“Please be careful,” the Vampire Bride looked over her shoulder as they approached the stairs at the back, “the way up can be slippery.”

Ludmila eyed the frost-coated steps as they made their way to the top of the wall. At the height of summer, the cool mists that wafted off of the Frost Dragon aerie had become something along the lines of an attraction, with the nobles of the central district often gathering in the gardens nearby to escape the heat. It appeared that the markets in the Demihuman district also took advantage of the relief during the day.

The top of the wall was caked in a thick layer of ice and a dark carpet had been laid down upon it, forming a path to the aerie. They stopped and waited as a Frost Dragon took off from the edge, sending currents of air whipping around them. The majority of the Frost Dragons in the transportation network were Juveniles and Adults, and the Adult that had just departed felt about as strong as the Vampire Bride leading the way. That being said, this measure of strength came with caveats, such as the fact that a Dragon was a far superior existence in terms of physical might and sensory ability compared to, say, a Human.

They continued on their way into the aerie, which had been recently renovated by a Dwarven company that Ludmila one day hoped to hire for work in her demesne. The bright limestone masonry of the building did not compare to the unbelievable craftsmanship that she saw in Feoh Berkana’s palace quarter, but it was still far superior to what Human hands could achieve. They followed the four-metre wide arcade past several doors facing the outer edge of the wall before the Vampire Bride turned to knock lightly on one of them.

A great clamour arose through the iron-bound pine door, sounding suspiciously like a cascade of parchments and books.

“W-who is it?” A timid voice issued thinly from inside.

Though it was clearly male in tone, its quality immediately brought Ilyshn’ish to Ludmila’s mind. Had she not known who she was visiting, Ludmila would have probably still drawn the connection between them.

“You have a visitor, Hejinmal,” the Vampire Bride said. “Baroness Ludmila Zahradnik.”

“Baron–a-a noble?” Several seconds passed in silence, “Um…just a moment, please!”

More sounds issued from behind the door, clearly that of books and parchment. It went on for some time, until a mournful cry came from across the door as something heavy crashed onto the floor. It continued for some time and, eventually, the door opened a crack. A turquoise eye peeked out at them for a long moment before the way to the room was opened fully.

The head of a pudgy-looking Dragon poked out and sniffed at them. Ludmila was just a bit disappointed that he wasn’t wearing the spectacles that Ilyshn’ish had mentioned.

The Vampire Bride reached up and smacked him across the snout, and he jerked back.

“Oh! I’m sorry,” Hejinmal’s voice was half-surprise and half-apology, “I guess that wasn’t appropriate for Humans. Erm, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit today, Baroness Zahradnik?”

Hejinmal’s behaviour felt similar to Ilyshn’ish’s, yet entirely different at the same time. His polite mannerisms caused Ludmila to wonder whose conduct was normal for Frost Dragons between Hejinmal and his sister. Meeting his gaze, she addressed him with a firm voice.

“I’ve come to see you about your sister, Ilyshn’ish.”

“Ilyshn’ish?” Hejinmal looked down at her worriedly, “Did she get herself into trouble again? But why would a noble…wait, s-she’s not dead, is she? I’ve read that nobles like hanging people…”

How had he come to that conclusion? How did one hang a ten-metre long Frost Dragon, anyways? Wouldn’t she just fly off with the gibbet? After dealing with Ilyshn’ish over the last few days, perhaps her tone had become too severe when speaking to her and her kin.

“I have recently taken responsibility over her as a…mentor,” Ludmila informed him in a more cordial manner. “I would very much like to get to know her better, but she’s quite reserved when it comes to herself. Lady Shalltear suggested that I learn about Ilyshn’ish by speaking to you.”

“I-is that so?” Hejinmal closed his eyes and let out a breath, “It’s a relief that she’s not dead. Please come in, erm…”

Ludmila’s attention turned to Hejinmal’s room as he gestured for her to enter. There were bookshelves lined along the back wall, though two appeared to be missing. In one corner, a pile of books lay partially covered by two bookshelves placed overtop of them.

“P-please don’t mind the mess,” Hejinmal said. “Or am I in trouble? W-will I be executed for being messy in front of a noble?”

“Why would you say that?” Ludmila frowned at his strange fixation on nobles and executions.

“The Dwarven records mention nobles all the time,” Hejinmal answered. “Long lists of judgements over people, as well as their punishments. They take people’s treasures away, too – there’s a lot of that in the books that I’ve read.”

“I imagine if what you’re reading are judicial records and financial accounts,” Ludmila said, “that’s all that you’d see. That isn’t all there is to nobles, however.”

Hejinmal looked down at her dubiously. Matching Ilyshn’ish’s Human expressions to the Draconic ones of her true appearance had certainly paid off; Ludmila had a rough sense of how to read Hejinmal’s otherwise alien features as a result.

“Is that so?” He said, “You’ll have to forgive me; most of my knowledge comes from reading the abandoned texts in Feoh Berkana.”

Hejinmal shifted backwards to make way for her entry, and Ludmila turned to nod and smile at the Vampire Bride in thanks before heading in and closing the door behind her.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” twin globes of soft turquoise light looked down at her, “there’s no light in here. Humans need that, don’t they?”

“It’s alright,” Ludmila replied, “I can see just fine in the dark.”

To make her point, she walked straight to the single chair placed in a corner of the room and sat down. She instantly regretted it, as her skirts offered no protection against the frozen chair. She rose and drew her mantle about herself properly before reseating herself.

“I’m sorry for the lack of hospitality,” Hejinmal said. “Perhaps I could borrow my mother’s tea set…”

“There’s no problem at all,” Ludmila told him. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to get down to the matter at hand.”

“O-of course,” Hejinmal nodded, “how may I help you?”

He plopped himself down on the floor, blocking the view of the mess in the corner with his body. His apparent sense of shame had Ludmila once again wondering why there was such a stark difference between the way the two siblings behaved. Was this the ‘deviancy’ that Ilyshn’ish mentioned?

“This might sound a bit strange as an opening question,” Ludmila said, “but between you and your sister, who behaves more like the average Frost Dragon?”

Hejinmal furrowed his brow and tilted his head. He shifted his mass and settled his wings over his back.

“This might not be the answer you’re looking for,” he said, “but neither of us behave like the average Frost Dragon.”

“Could you explain what you mean by this?”

The Dragon’s long tail swished over the floor idly as he pondered his answer.

“Hm…I don’t think I’ve tried putting into words that Humans can understand before,” Hejinmal said, “but I will try. To begin with, the average Frost Dragon does not place any value in what we consider intellectual pursuits. Until we grow to become Elder or Ancient Dragons, there is very little thought spared for anything at all beyond our personal lifestyle.”

Ludmila leaned forward in her chair. She hadn’t expected Hejinmal to be so forthcoming with her potentially intrusive queries.

“How would you say this idea relates to you and your sister?” Ludmila asked.

“Firstly, we are both intellectuals,” Hejinmal told her. “To the extent that our preferences are incomprehensible to our more normal siblings. We love lore and discovery, and the idea of exploration excites us. Our values stretch beyond the usual lust for material wealth. As Ilyshn’ish might put it, we are essentially ‘deviants’, though she probably wouldn’t apply the term to herself.”

“This isn’t common, I take it?”

“Oh no,” Hejinmal chuckled. “Out of the entire enclave, it’s only the two of us, plus our mother to a lesser extent. We have two brothers between us in age, and they clearly take after our late father despite our mother’s attempts to influence them in the same manner as she did us. Maybe we’ve just inherited that part of her, while the others have not. Like our mother, we’ve taken steps to improve ourselves beyond the natural growth that Dragons enjoy over the ages. Ilyshn’ish has been the most successful out of the three of us, though – she’s just made out of something different. One can only envy how she embraces her chosen path so naturally.”

“The way you speak of your family seems a lot more Human-like than Ilyshn’ish,” Ludmila noted. “Lady Shalltear mentioned something about you interceding on behalf of your family in the past, as well. Ilyshn’ish doesn’t seem to express the same care for her family that you do.”

“She doesn’t?”

“It doesn’t seem like it when I speak with her,” Ludmila said.

Hejinmal tapped his claws against the ice. Ludmila wasn’t sure what it meant, but the action made her keenly aware of how vulnerable she was in his quarters. She sensed that the Dragon before her was roughly as strong as the one that had departed from the wall. He was stronger than she was, but she could probably last long enough for help to arrive. Unfortunately, they were also in a closed room, and his breath attack could turn the space deadly cold in a matter of seconds – he would just need to freeze the door shut with it.

He raised his claws to his mouth and cleared his throat in a rather Human-like gesture.

“If you don’t mind,” Hejinmal said, “could you start from the beginning? If you have some knowledge of Frost Dragons, you’ll understand that our minds do not function in the same way as many other living things do – even those of other Dragons. Starting from the middle of a verbal account without any understandable reference to work off of is about as meaningful to us as a snowflake on a glacier.”

Ludmila settled into her seat and started to relate her experiences with Ilyshn’ish. How they came to be together, their current relationship, and the various problems that came with mentoring her. She listed off several statements from Ilyshn’ish, including her willingness to murder her own family members.

Hejinmal did not interrupt her as she spoke at length, quietly listening to her with the same, strange sort of focus that Ilyshn’ish sometimes had when something particularly interesting came to her attention. He did not display any discernible reaction to any part of Ludmila’s account, giving her the impression that he, too, perceived everything that Ilyshn’ish believed as normal.

“Ah…I believe you are misunderstanding a few things,” Hejinmal said a few moments after she finished. “Or more accurately, a Human may lack the means to understand. This is what I think is happening, going by your account. Ilyshn’ish does indeed care dearly for her family – at least as much as I do. Probably much more. Perhaps this is something only a Dragon can recognize, but she is probably your equivalent to a warm and affectionate little sister.”

“You’re right,” Ludmila wasn’t sure how to react to his statement, “I don’t understand. How does the willingness to murder your family members translate into being warm and affectionate?”

“Would it make any sense if I said that this is the world that we live in?” Hejinmal said, “Dragons, compared to most other species, are not only singularly powerful beings, but live very differently than other peoples. The way that we perceive things is beyond your understanding, as are certain things that we understand. I don’t mean this in a derogatory sense, of course – it just is. In lacking this same comprehension, others can only see us for what we represent to them. It is a shallow portrayal of us, and is similarly shallow in meaning when it comes to concerns of a higher order.”

“I feel like I receive all manner of cryptic knowledge along this vein these days,” Ludmila muttered.

“I’m sorry,” Hejinmal lowered his head, “understanding itself is a bit of a paradox, at least when it comes to ‘rational’ Human thinking. We just know. This aspect is a bit of a fruitless path for you, but I just wanted to let you know that it exists since you are taking care of my dear sister. That being said, we should focus on the things you can actually do something about, yes?”

“Fair enough,” Ludmila sat back in her chair, “what should I do?”