chapter 6, part 1

“I have to go out,” Maya pleaded. “I’m begging you. Just for a minute.”

Greldedor sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “I really doubt it’s all that urgent. And besides, how do I know you’re not going to go sprinting off into the woods?”

“The dragon is right there,” Maya exclaimed. “How do you expect me to outrun a literal dragon?”

“Could you at least finish your dinner first?”

“No!” Maya tossed her head in an exaggerated show of distress. She hoped she wasn’t over-acting. “Please, I just need fresh air. I just need to be able to see the sky. I can’t stand being inside anymore.” She plunged both her hands into her dark hair and made out as if she was about to start pulling it out.

Greldedor recoiled, taken aback by the display. “Fine! Just calm down, please. You can go outside.”

Maya let herself relax. “Thank you, thank you,” she said, leaping up from the table, hoping that the glee in her voice sounded like she was on the verge of tears.

Greldedor gestured toward the door and the two heavy panels flew open. Maya sprinted out into the cool evening, noticing with discomfort how her thighs rubbed together and bounced with each step.

Outside, the air was refreshingly clear, a gentle breeze blowing the smells of the forest into her lungs. She hadn’t realized just how much she actually did need to be outside.

“Hello, child,” the dragon rumbled from where it sat on the edge of the woods, watching the entrance. Before it was some mostly-eaten animal – evidently Brightscale was having dinner at the same time as everyone else. “It seems you’ve been let out. Are you trying to escape?”

“I’m not a child,” Maya said petulantly, dodging the question. “I’m twenty-four.”

The dragon let out a slow breath. “To me, you are all as children. Such short lives. Such petty concerns.”

Maya looked the creature up and down. She couldn’t hope to manipulate it like she had just manipulated Greldedor – and yet, that was just what this foolish plan Sylvia had concocted relied on.

“If we’re so far below you,” Maya said slowly, “then why do you work for one of us?”

“I do not work for Greldedor,” the dragon replied. “She keeps me company.”

Maya decided to try and press her advantage. “But why? Why a lonely old witch, of all people? Why this crumbling tower in the middle of the forest?”

“Because I have chosen it.”

“You’re an ancient dragon,” Maya said, “possibly the last of your kind in the world. You could serve the queen and be given wealth and honors. Or you could live in solitude and pursue wisdom. You could probably ravage the countryside and hoard all the gold in the land.”

The dragon didn’t respond, so Maya continued, “Instead, you live out here, sleeping curled around a tower, with no lair, no glory, nothing that I’ve been told dragons desire. Why settle for this?”

Brightscale let out another long, slow breath. “If I answer your questions, curious one, will that at last satisfy you?”

Maya shifted from one foot to the other, letting one hand rest on a plump hip. “Yes.”

The dragon sighed and began its tale. “I am Lath of the Bright Scale, the last of the dragons. I have no hoard, no lair, no wealth, but fate and honor have bound me to something better. I am the guardian of the Crystal of All-Knowing, created by the gods at the beginning of the world.”

Maya let out a soft gasp but didn’t interrupt. She hadn’t expected the creature to just begin confessing its life-story, and she wasn’t certain that knowing this would help her escape, but it would certainly help her quest – if she ever got to continue it.

“Years ago, I was attacked in my lair by a band of soldiers of your queen who sought the legendary crystal so that they may give it to their mistress, who wished to use it for her own evil purposes. My duty was to protect the artifact from falling into unworthy hands, so I fought until I could fight no more.”

The creature let out a mournful sigh. “Just as I was about to be destroyed by the queen’s men, a young mage, fleeing the queen, appeared and attempted to lend me her aid. I could see she was not powerful enough on her own to defeat them, so I told her of the location of the crystal in my lair. She took it and used the knowledge of magic which it granted her to destroy the men and save my life.”

Maya frowned. “So how did you end up out here?”

“Greldedor is the current holder of the crystal,” the dragon answered, “but she is not a worthy master for it. Granted its power, she became complacent, interested only in her own comfort and fantasies of power. I remain out here with her to protect the crystal, as I know she cannot.” The dragon shook its head. “She knows that her path is wrong and is ashamed. Seeing you and your knight, she couldn’t bear the comparison with herself, and now seeks to corrupt you, too.” Brightscale turned its piercing amber gaze back to Maya. “In your knight, I fear she is succeeding, but I see that the magic she has wrought on your body hasn’t weakened your spirit.”

Maya felt a flash of hot anger. “Sylvia won’t be corrupted, either! She’s still committed to escaping.”

The dragon blinked slowly. “Very well.”

“Why not give the crystal to the queen?” Maya questioned. “You say Greldedor isn’t a worthy master for it because she’s too complacent. The queen is anything but. She’d use its power to change this entire world.”

The dragon shook its huge head slowly. “Still you do not understand, little one. Your mother is no more worthy than Greldedor. The gods made the crystal so that humanity may one day use its knowledge to improve its lot. See the state of this kingdom. See the lives of your mother’s subjects. Can you tell me with truth in your heart that you believe your mother would use the crystal’s knowledge for right, to improve the lot of all, or would she only use it to secure her own power?”

Maya began to respond, but then stopped and considered what the dragon said. She remembered what Sylvia had told her about life outside the court. “No,” she responded finally. “No, I don’t suppose she would use it for good.”

“You have the beginnings of understanding,” the dragon rumbled. “That is good.”

Maya decided to risk asking what she had come out here to ask. “Why won’t you help us to escape? You know that what she’s doing to us isn’t right.”

“Even I can’t hope to stand against her power while she’s bonded to the crystal,” Brightscale responded. “I cannot help you, though much do I wish to.”

Maya squeezed her eyes shut. This had all been for nothing.

Was would happen now? Was this going to be the end of her journey, of all her years of training and study – to be the fat plaything of a crazy old witch? Maybe she could vow her service to Greldedor and gain her trust, and use that to escape. Maybe she could somehow poison the old witch, or kill her in her sleep, or –

“Why not let me into the basement and see if I’m a worthy holder for the crystal?” she blurted out.

The dragon blinked, confused. “What?”

“Let me hold the crystal. Let me try. I understand its purpose now – you just told me. Think of the things I could do knowing that.” Her eyes widened at the thought. “With that kind of power, there need never be another famine in the land. There need never be another flood. The land could be at peace. Think of the progress that could be made if everyone just had what they needed, if people weren’t forced to waste their talents just scratching out a living.” She looked pleadingly at the dragon. “Imagine it.”

For a while, the creature did not respond. Then, finally: “Very well, Maya Alzeanath.”

Maya let out a breathy sound of joy.

Later, she would barely remember the next few minutes. The dragon destroying the basement door with a single swipe of its claw, a commotion from within as Greldedor rushed outside to investigate, bounding down the steps to the crystal’s location and holding the thing gently in both hands, its clear light illuminating the small space – it all rushed together into a moment of revelation.

Maya saw the world. She saw it from the beginning, the many fragments of matter coalescing and exploding and becoming orderly, until some of that matter became the world, and that world begot ice and fire and life. She saw the rise and fall of eons. She saw the rise and fall of dragons, and then the rise of man – puny fleshy creatures individually, short-lived and foolish, but in their numbers capable of building great cities and libraries. She saw the world as it was now. She saw the suffering of the people, but also the beauty in their faces. She saw the hunched backs of farmers and the slender hips of courtiers. She saw her own soft body, and Sylvia’s, and understood suddenly that these things, too, were beautiful, and suddenly the strange warm feeling she had when she looked at her knight was no longer shameful, but as natural and normal as the waves of the ocean.

She blinked and it was over.