Chương 69: Discovery

Izrizar Veloran had watched the world change. Nothing flashy, worthy of [Bards] and storytellers, but something for the history books all the same. No great beast had been slain, nor had armies gathered to conquer an existential threat. Humanity itself was not on the line, fighting for survival. And yet, one moment, the world was one way, and now it was different, and historians could point back to this day as the day the course forked. Perhaps even more literally than his musings suggested.

This was no ideological change, no paradigm shift or social revolution. Simply, the world around him physically changed… though it was, perhaps, a touch hard to see. Impossible for those who couldn't understand the subtle influence of magic, but Veloran, and many of the scholars and researchers who had migrated to the abbey in recent days, definitely could. He felt the moment the mana streams shifted beneath their feet. And it was all due to the interference of a single woman. Meliastraza Obsidianheart.

Perhaps, because of this small, impossible feat, the world at large would start changing, too. Did this mean the return of monsters and calamities that would shroud the world in darkness? A rise of heroes and warriors to combat such a foe? A new age of… uncertainty? Veloran couldn't say. He was not so arrogant as to assume he should even guess.

Though, as the head of the most prestigious institution of learning and one of the premier [Mages] of this generation, he should probably formulate a theory based on solid facts. Starting with the gnome responsible for it all. Or should he say dragon? The words of the [Retainer] rang loudly in his ears. Only a certain caliber of servant was fit to serve a dragon. Veloran would not presume to know the qualifications of most domestic staff, as he himself had never been in charge of hiring.

Perhaps this was an oversight on his part, leaving all the particulars to his subordinates. As long as the help showed up on time and did their jobs, he was content to let things be. Next was the matter of her name. Meliastraza. What little Veloran knew of draconic heritage suggested the name would fit. Dragons often chose or were given harsh and complicated-sounding names, full of Xs, Zs, Rs, or Ks. Axtara. Alextraza. Arragos. Kaarahaz. Tongue twisters and jaw crackers, every single one of them.

What unsettled Veloran most was the raw power she displayed. Dragons were formidable; none disputed this. But could they truly reshape the land? Veloran doubted it. History was unclear, although some records hinted at the possibility. The Ashland caldera was a prime example of two reds fighting a black. It was said the Maelstrom at World's End was "the failing of the blues."

But most historians wavered over if that saying was merely summing up the magical curiosity of an entire dragonflight, or if it was a fable to be taken at face value. Other examples, less extreme than those two, came to mind. For the former, Veloran could do it with his own two hands. Well, maybe not him personally, but with enough shovels, picks, or heavy equipment, people could move a mountain. It would either take decades or a construction crew the size of an army, but it could be done.

The latter was theoretically possible… from a magical point of view. Vortexes were not an unknown thing. But for a magical working the size of a small city, such as the Maelstrom, no single person would ever be able to manage such a feat. Some sort of ritual would need to be invoked, in which case countless [Mages] could pool their mana together to create something far larger than any one man could boast. And those could take weeks, possibly months, to complete. So what had Veloran just witnessed, exactly?

The creation of a brand new leyline. Veloran wasn't sure he could express in simple terms just how… impossible that was. Everyone possessed magic. Most people could express it in some way, even physical classes like [Warriors]. Fewer, but still a good majority of the population, could manipulate their magic into spells. Gifted people turned their class into something magical, like [Mages] or [Enchanters], but only the truly elite became masters in their field.

But not even an [Archmage] could look at a barren desert and conjure up a permanent, flowing river. They might be able to soak the sand, summon rain, or if they were a particularly skilled [Ice Mage], freeze the surface. But the water would evaporate and the ice would melt. Strictly speaking, more impressive works of magic had been achieved, such as Crystalis, the City of Mages.

But constructing that marvel took the better part of three dozen [Archmages] nearly a year to move from blueprints to prototype buildings, let alone a grand, evolving city. Melia had done in minutes what would take masters a lifetime. No wonder the system granted her a title. Laughably, all the majority of people would ever see of this magical miracle was the [Mini Aetherstone], bobbing innocently in the air above its stand. A deceptively simple display compared to the power coursing through it.

Normally, [Mages] only learned to teleport themselves at rank 4 and didn't master portals until rank 6. They dedicated their lives and careers specifically to the art of magical transportation. Teleportation [Mages] were some of the most mathematically gifted individuals alive. And yet this stone removed those requirements. A literal child could attune themself to this stone and use it to travel instantaneously to any connected stone. Such as Horizon. And if they so desired, they could travel back.

All it would cost them… Veloran cast [Inspect] on the stone and scoffed. … was a measly 2 silver. The price was laughable. He didn't know how Aetherstone costs were calculated, but a half-remembered conversation with a colleague at the Transportarium suggested it was malleable. If that was the case, and this cost was set by Melia when she… commanded the stone… Veloran wanted to laugh out loud. How arrogant, how absurd! As if such feats of magic were so far beneath her they were hardly worth pocket change!

It both was and was not the most draconic thing he'd ever heard! Not that Veloran was entirely convinced the gnome was actually a dragon in disguise. Mostly, yes, but a few trailing doubts lingered. Such as her carefree attitude and willingness to share her talents with others. No dragon he had ever heard of would ever dare to lower themself to the level of allowing people to study their magic.

It was taking nearly every ounce of Veloran's considerable willpower not to abandon everything and set up a permanent research station next to that [Greenhouse]. Or, better yet, inside it. But he had a feeling that following the [Retainer] carrying the nearly unconscious gnome would be beneficial. Besides, Bishop Larkin was there too, and Veloran wanted to pick the man's brain after what they'd witnessed. Now, however, was not the time to discuss.

They followed silently behind the hulking woman, unsure of their place. Normally, the headmaster of Arcanus Scholastia or a Bishop of Light would be treated second only to royalty, and yet they were all but forgotten as they made their way behind the abbey toward the forest beyond. There, at the front of the treeline, Veloran spied the wreckage of some turbulent disaster, but wisely did not inquire.

The [Retainer] carried Melia into the middle of the debris, stepping over hearty tree trunks that had been crushed to a pulp, and… unceremoniously dumped the gnome onto a small mound of dirt. To be fair, she placed Melia down gently, looking reluctant to let the gnome go, but as soon as she did, the [Retainer] quickly stood back up, turned, and started walking briskly away.

"What-," was all Veloran had the chance to say before he was interrupted.

"Come. We leave now," the huge woman said briskly, taking both men by surprise. When the bishop opened his mouth to complain, she didn't even wait for a single syllable to come out. She reached down, grabbed the robes in front of each man's chest, and lifted them bodily off the ground. Both men yelped, surprised to find their feet suddenly leave the floor, but the woman carried them as if they were weightless. Once they cleared the wreckage, the [Retainer] dropped them on their butts without another word.

She stood there, silent and resolute, folding her arms over her chest as if keeping watch. Not a moment later, a bright white light erupted from the middle of the disaster area, where the gnome was placed. Veloran blinked rapidly to clear the spots from his eyes, but as soon as vision returned, his brain refused to believe what it saw. There was no longer a clearing, and he suddenly knew what caused the disaster in the first place. A gigantic black dragon lay still, curled up on itself… snoring loudly.

[Meliastraza Obsidianheart] Level:???? Class:????

Ah. Suddenly, that made so much more sense. Even if it answered precisely zero of the questions Veloran wanted to ask. He turned toward the bishop, who was staring at the creature as her chest rose and fell in great, heaving waves.

"Bishop," Veloran said.

"Tell me what you know about the gods."

Bishop Francis Larkin led his old friend and companion of many adventures back to the study he used whenever he visited Abbyton. Technically, he didn't have a study of his own, since the small town didn't need anything larger than a [Deacon] and having an ordained [Cardinal] such as himself was pointless. Perhaps that would change imminently with the revelations of the last day, and Francis had a feeling Izrizar's request for religious clarification wasn't born of any newfound piety.

He, too, was having thoughts about the sudden appearance of a legendary dragon. Some might even be considered heretical. Like most people, Francis had never met a dragon before. He'd read about them in books, heard of them in fairytales, seen them portrayed in plays, but never come face-to-scaly-face with one. After today's sighting, he was secretly glad he had not, because they were terrifying.

And as somebody with a holy class, he had natural resistance to [Fear], which struck him as soon as he laid eyes on the beast. Everything he'd ever understood about dragons told him they were… smaller… than that gigantic creature, but he wasn't sure that would actually help at all. Meliastraza was far too powerful to be an accurate representative of her species.

Francis glanced down at the table, where he'd hastily thrown a plain brown sack the gnome had given him after completing the [Greenhouse]. Much like its owner, the bag was unassuming and hiding its true colors. Which was still brown, even after he discovered it was actually an enchanted inventory. What it held shocked him.

[Cherry Sapling] x999. [Apple Sapling] x999. [Orange Sapling] x999. [Plum Sapling] x998. [Apricot Sapling] x999. [Coconut Sprout] x999. [Nectarine Sapling] x999.

The list went on, containing fruit trees of every type imaginable. Each and every one of them in ungodly quantities. Why the [Plums] were missing one, he did not know and he was afraid to ask. There were even exotic trees Francis wasn't sure could grow in this climate, magical [Greenhouse] or not. Such as the [Cinnamon Saplings] or [Banana Trees]. Melia had thrown the sack at him and told him to take a look and see if there was anything the abbey would be interested in growing. …

what was he supposed to do with this? Nevermind a thousand trees, a single sapling from each category would be valuable. And if he heard correctly, that [Greenhouse] could accommodate several thousand trees? Madness. But he wasn't here to allow a dragon's greed for fruit to divert his thoughts, no matter how desperately the abbey needed more farming staff since their latest agricultural acquisition. Izrizar wanted to know about the gods, and this conversation was most likely going to become very theological.

Some might consider it blasphemy. After all, Meliastraza Obsidianheart displayed a power beyond mortal limitations. And what lay beyond mortality, save godhood? Bishop Francis Larkin placed a heavy tome on the table between himself and Headmaster Izrigar Veloran, hoping to probe that very issue. He took a seat by the window and began to speak.

"Balance brought day to night, and night to day, and so, in all things, It was." Veloran quirked an eyebrow as he began to smirk.

"Some also say: Balance added both day and night, in equal measure, into the void that was this place, thus creating our world. What came first, I wonder? Day or night?" Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

"Perhaps we'll save the heady musings for another day, then," Francis chuckled.

"I assume you aren't asking about Order or Chaos either."

"Not particularly, no," Veloran admitted.

"Their domain is clearly stated, as confusing as they can be at times. I'm more curious about the Lower Pantheon."

"Very well," Francis nodded.

"Starting with Celestara, Goddess of Light and Compassion. Once responsible for resurrecting heroes during times of great peril, but she has not made her presence known for many decades."

"Chosen deity of the human race," Veloran added, as if tacking on a point.

"Indeed. Next, we have Helena, Goddess of Hearth and Home. Patron of the forge, worshiped by the dwarves. Some say a little bit of Helena dwells in every fire, from the smallest flickering flame to a roaring inferno. Most agree that passion is her domain, though she is attributed with comfort and steadfastness to a lesser degree."

"Lunaria is worshiped by the elves, correct?" Veloran asked. Francis nodded but raised a finger.

"By the high elves specifically. Forest elves and mountain elves have their own take on the Goddess of Night and the Moon. Regional doctrines aside, we can categorize any variation under the same name."

"Out of curiosity, what are her other names?"

"Luna, Eluna, Laa-naaria, Lu-en-es-el-ee-uh," the bishop spoke with a grimace while shaking his head.

"I apologize, some of her rarer aspects are quite difficult to say."

"You managed well enough for me," Veloran chuckled.

"Yes, well, I suppose I also spat upon the graves of countless elvish [Clerics]. But alas, I am only human. As we were saying, Lunaria. Goddess of Night and the Moon. She is the symbol of Serenity and Flowing Water. The steady passage of time. Some say that's why the elves live so long; as her followers, they were blessed with longevity."

"If that were the case, I would have turned into a gnome long ago," Veloran scoffed. Francis chuckled.

"You speak of Ghelt, God of Magic and Innovation. Ingenuity and creativity."

"Don't forget recklessness," Veloran added.

"The elves certainly won't," Francis shook his head.

"How many centuries ago did the gnomes contaminate their lands?"

"Too many for me to count."

"Too true," Francis sighed.

"Moving along, we have the beastkin."

"They worship money, and nothing else," Veloran laughed darkly.

"Also, not wrong," the bishop nodded.

"Kellis, God of Transport and Trade. Or, money, as you've so rightly pointed out. Greed, I might add, and ambition. You'd be hard-pressed to find any merchant west of the Evergloom who doesn't display Kellis' sigil. For the halflings, we have Moore, God of the Harvest and Planting. God of Cooking and Good Food."

"Perhaps I'll worship him," Veloran laughed, before turning serious.

"Though I'm being crass. Moving along, that leaves us with the demons," Veloran said grimly. A shadow fell over Francis' face.

"Letharion," the bishop almost spat.

"God of Wrath and War." While no god or goddess in the pantheon was diametrically opposed to any other, it could be said that Celestara and Letharion stood farthest apart. Like the humans and demons they watched over, Celestara and Letharion were always at each other's throats. War and Peace could not coexist, but the followers of Celestara understood that some things were worth fighting for. Just as Protection was found as often in war as Aggression, but Letharion was known only for the latter, never the former.

The two friends, theologian and scholar, sat in silence. Veloran was the first to speak.

"Do you think she could be a [Devout] of Letharion?" he asked.

"While the strength she displayed in culling the [Obsidian Dragon] that attacked the abbey recently might suggest so, I believe otherwise. For one, Letharion has never chosen anyone from any race other than the demons to become his Avatar."

"Ah," Veloran said.

"Did you witness the attack? I heard rumors, but given the source, I dismissed them."

"Not personally," Francis chuckled.

"But I trust the Matron's account, and I rushed here in all due haste once I heard."

"And here I thought your eagerness to discover your new [Garden Plots]'s mysterious creator clouded your judgment."

"Perhaps it did!" Francis laughed.

"But that's another point. Letharion's followers often embody his hotheadedness. He is not known for charity."

"Just as well," Veloran sighed.

"I dread to think what would happen if a Demon Lord appeared outside of Demon lands. Perhaps that would be enough to summon the [Destroyer]." Both men turned to stare out the window, where, even though it was shrouded by the haze of the afternoon, a dragon slept.

"Perhaps it would," Francis muttered.

"Perhaps it would." The two sat in contemplative silence for several more moments.

"That [Retainer]," Veloran said.

"She is a Barbarian from the North, yes? What gods serve they?"

"Hm?" Francis muttered, shaking himself from his thoughts.

"From the North, you say? I confess, I've not had many dealings with the Northern tribes. They're nomadic, if I recall, and mainly shamanistic. They put great stock in rituals and soothsaying. I've also heard that, once upon a time, they worshiped the Frost Titans. As close to demigods as anything, those Titans."

"Do you think that's what we're dealing with here?" Veloran asked, pointing toward the window.

"The incarnation of a lesser deity? A spawn born to a disciple from a moment of divine frivolity? Or perhaps a heretic attempting to ascend?"

"A lunatic, more like," Francis shook his head.

"That type of heretic does tend to grow in power quite quickly, though their rise and eventual fall is quite violent. The gods suffer not mortals who think themselves above their shackles, and such hubris is dealt with swiftly."

"Perhaps during the Age of Upheaval," Veloran frowned.

"But who could deal with such a monster now?"

"There, my friend, is where one must learn to pray," Francis said with a sardonic smile. Veloran gave the man a nod in reference to their old argument over matters of reason and faith.

"So not a heretic, then," Veloran said.

"That leaves a god, either half or whole."

"Personally, I don't think she's a child of a god, no matter how childish her actions might seem," Francis said.

"She has neither reverence nor bearing."

"That leaves incarnation, then," Veloran frowned.

"If this is some godly play at work, which one do you think would make the first move? Who would try to claim a new domain?"

"I haven't the faintest clue," Francis sighed.

"Because for all the grief she's caused, the only fitting domain I can see is chaos. And, well, that one is already claimed."

Jack was a small boy, but that was okay, because soon he would be a man. His birthday was at the end of the month, and he would turn 10 years old. That meant having two digits, and as his lessons in math told him, that was a lot! The sisters in the abbey would be so proud, he was learning. And since he was doing such a good job at learning, Jack decided he should be rewarded. Never mind the fact that he was only half-finished with his chores, and that he swept his side of the room and not Timothy's.

That was Timothy's side, so it should be his chore. Jack's logic was flawless. Jack took his broom, which should have been sweeping the floor, and stuck it between his legs.

"Faithful steed, go!" He made clopping noises as he skipped, picturing his imaginary horse trotting with dignity down the hall toward the back exit of the dormitory, despite knowing quite well that horses weren't allowed to walk down halls. Of course he knew. Someday, he was going to be an [Equestrian]. He might not know how to spell the class, but it would be his. And as soon as the system gave it to him, he'd be able to read it slowly as it sat before him on his screen, so he'd have plenty of time to memorize it.

Jack might have wanted to be a [Knight], once upon a time, but Timothy also wanted to be a [Knight], and that made it not cool, since they were arguing right now and were no longer best friends. Maybe tomorrow, Jack would apologize for stealing Timothy's breadstick, and Timothy would admit to taking Jack's apple, and they'd go back to being friends. But right now, Timothy was Jack's nemesis. The problem was that thinking about a [Nemesis] while riding his horse put Jack into an adventurous mood.

Normally, the two boys would sneak out together to play [Knight] and [Squire], or maybe pretend to be adventurers. One perk about living at the abbey was having so much area to run around and explore. Of course, the brothers and sisters knew they got up to mischief, but so long as Jack stuck to the set boundaries, they were generally allowed to go wherever they wanted. While, technically, that meant he couldn't go see the [Wololol], Jack had only ever made the mistake of ignoring the warnings once.

He stumbled across a real live wolf, and he was scared. Thankfully, Brother Thomas was there to fend off the monster, but never again would Jack wander anywhere close to the line of red ribbons in the trees. Instead, Jack had a dilemma. He could sneak over to the funny [Planters] that were bigger on the inside than the outside and play with the [Giant Heads], but if he did that, he was sure somebody would ask him if he was skipping chores, and he couldn't lie.

The Matron didn't like it when they lied, and punishments happened if they got caught. Jack had spent a few hours yesterday making Bob and Ferdinand try to kiss. It was harder to do than it sounded, because they'd only move at the same time if he got close to them at a very particular place. And when they did… the two giant statues looked like they were stuck in a staring contest, which was the absolute height of comedy.

While Jack was tempted to give it another go, it was equally possible that Timothy was having the same thoughts, and he didn't want to run into his ex-best friend right now. Jack needed something new to explore. That meant going in the other direction, where a brand new House of Glass was built. Why did they call it a [Greenhouse]? It wasn't green. If anything, it was clear, or sometimes rainbow. Silly adults.

But Jack didn't want to get too close to the [Greenhouse], no matter how desperately he wanted to sneak inside to explore. There were too many [Researchers] studying it, and all the kids had been well scolded not to get in the way of anybody with a black robe. Apparently, that meant they were from the capital, sent from a fancy school. Jack supposed that meant they were good at their jobs, but he was doubtful. They'd been staring at the [Planters], [Big Heads], and now the [Greenhouse] for weeks.

Jack didn't think he'd get tired of staring at them, but adults normally had shorter attention spans, which was sad. They gave up staring too soon, in his opinion. Jack lingered near one of the research pavilions for a while, listening to the funny words the [Researchers] kept muttering. Surely, if they were trying to invent a new language, they could do better. Though Jack was particularly fond of the one that sounded a lot like oo-wee. They could keep that one, whatever it did.

Jack decided to move on before anybody got really annoyed at a not-yet-adult spying on them. Because Jack had such a sharp familiarity with the grounds surrounding the abbey, something caught his eye. Jack slowed his mighty steed to a brisk trot so he could investigate. There, to the north, where the trees should have been, was a large black hill. Jack was immediately outraged because if there was a hill nearby, he demanded to climb it, and this one wasn't familiar.

Jack decided to park his horse next to a nearby tree (where, sadly, the broom was forgotten). Jack followed the edge of the treeline, creeping ever closer to the hill. Jack knew, as all explorers knew, never to surprise a hill. There was no telling what it might do. But as he got closer, the hill looked less and less… hill-like. And he had no idea why, but his knees were starting to shake, as they did back when he saw the wolf, but no wolves spawned in this part of the abbey, and he wasn't afraid, anyway.

To prove he wasn't, he crept forward more. As soon as he did, a voice called out to him.

"Halt." Jack froze. But as soon as his mind caught up with him, he scrunched his nose. He turned to face the voice…and had to look waaaaay up at a [Maid]. Why was this [Maid] so tall? But more importantly….

"Why is your voice so squeaky?" Jack blurted. This was a mystery that needed to be solved. The [Maid]'s eye twitched, but she said nothing. Instead, she crouched down, lowering herself to look Jack in the eye. Honestly, it was mildly terrifying. The woman still towered over him, even when she was crouched.

"Because it is," the [Maid] said. Jack nodded seriously. The perfect answer. Why didn't he think of that?

"Why are you standing in the field?" Jack asked. Questions demanded answers.

"My mistress sleeps," was all the [Maid] said. That was a funny thing to say. Mistresses were important people, but important people slept in fancy beds. He didn't see any fancy bed out here, so was there really a mistress?

"This is a weird place to sleep," Jack complained. The woman chuckled, but said nothing. Laughing wasn't an answer. Jack pressed on.

"Where is she sleeping?" Then it hit him. Of course! She was sleeping on top of the hill! That was an excellent place to sleep!

"Oh!" was all Jack said. This conversation was clearly over, so Jack planned to slip by the [Giant Maid] and scale the hill. Once he was on top, it would be conquered, and it would be his. No take-backs. Nobody could stop him. Jack was king at slipping past the brothers and avoiding the sisters. This [Maid]-"Eh?" Jack muttered in confusion. He found himself lifted up, many feet off the ground, held up by his collar. He followed a long, intensely muscular arm back…connected to the [Giant Maid].

"I said halt," she repeated, but fortunately, she didn't seem mad. Only determined not to let Jack approach the hill. Now he needed to know. What was so special about the hill? Was there treasure?! Jack started squirming, but the [Maid]'s grip was like iron, and he could go nowhere. But before he could formulate another plan, the hill snored. Jack froze, his eyes went wide, as his brain started cranking into motion.

"What was that?!" he gasped. The woman chuckled.

"My mistress."

"Your mistress is a hill?!" Jack nearly screamed in awe. That was an entirely new development. Did some girls grow up to be hills? Maybe he'd ask the Matron later.

"No," the [Maid] laughed in a high, bubbly chirp.

"She is a dragon." Jack froze again, his eyes darting back toward the "hill". He stared. He stared long and hard. Parts of the black mass began to take shape the longer he stared at it. There were horns, wings, and a tail. It had a snout, and Jack could feel the heat pouring out of it, even as far away as they were.

"A…a…a…," Jack could hardly form the words. In his excitement, he forgot to be scared. This was a real, live dragon! Those were worth so many [Knights]! Jack went limp in the [Maid]'s grip, all attempts to escape forgotten. He mustered up his best begging eyes, the secret technique he traded Milly his cookies for last year. Best trade ever.

"Can I see? Pleeease?" The [Maid] stared down at him, her face completely unreadable. She continued standing there, holding him at arm's length, which was odd, now that Jack thought about it, because he didn't think he could hold his arm out like that for so long without getting tired. Jack was just thinking about asking again when her lips twitched.

"Sure." But… the [Giant Maid] didn't put him down. Instead, she carried him all the way over to the sleeping dragon! That was even better! Jack didn't have to walk! The [Maid] crossed some crushed trees and other flattened shrubs, getting so much closer than Jack ever dared. He didn't know dragons grew this big! It wasn't a hill, it was an entire mountain! Its head was larger than his entire bedroom!

The [Maid] walked Jack right up to the sleeping dragon, letting him take in the black, glossy scales, so polished he could see his own reflection. He could hear the dragon breathe… it sounded like a really big cat. A wing twitched, and Jack almost screamed. But he didn't, because he was a man. Jack started bouncing with excitement.

"Can I touch it?!" Once again, the [Maid] stared at him and said nothing. Jack waited with as much patience as he could muster. The woman let out a small sigh.

"I believe my mistress would approve," she said eventually.

"She loves children." Still, the infuriating woman did not put Jack down, but she moved him even closer. Close enough so he could reach his hand out… and touch a scale. It was cold… but also hot. It was so weird! And smooth! If Jack could climb that dragon, those scales would make an excellent slide. Jack ran his hand in circles over the scale, marveling at how big it was. The [Maid] carried him over to the horn. It was the color of the midnight sky, but harder than steel.

Unlike the scale, it was smooth, but didn't hurt to touch. The [Maid] carried Jack, letting him run his hand across the dragon's entire face.

"Wow, it didn't even wake up!" Jack screamed, not even thinking about how his loud voice might do the trick.

"No," the [Maid] answered.

"My mistress is very tired. She'll sleep for several days."

"Several days?!" Jack repeated. That sounded awesome. This dragon sounded a lot like Timothy. At the thought of his best friend, Jack grew still. Timothy would love to see a dragon. To touch a dragon. And now that Jack had the chance to do it first and could gloat all about it, he wanted his friends to get the chance too. Not just Timothy, but all the kids at the abbey.

"Can I come back again?" he asked. For the last time, the [Maid] paused in thought.

"When she awakes, I believe my mistress will enjoy that." Fantastic, Jack thought. Now we can play [Knights] and [Dragons]!