Chapter Nine: Memories

Ember’s talons scraped stone as he slid off his bed. He’d been awake long enough to hear the soft clicking of the daily messenger, dropping off the letters addressed to him from the town and village, as well as in the castle. The pile was somewhat large, as it usually was, since all the dragons assigned to council were required to write a summary or their report for the daily meetings the night before. 

Making his way to his desk, Ember lifted a paw to shuffle through the papers. Reports from all the council dragons, in their varying styles of writing, were all there, as well as a few reports from Flame Village. At the bottom of the pile, a few papers up from the last, there was a shimmering white paper with thick, blocky writing like Crystal had used to write her name. Ember brushed the other papers aside, and carefully lifted it up, flipping it around to see the sender. Wynter’s Grove, Block forty-three, no name or dome number. 

Ice dragons lived in Domes, round houses made from their own ice and snow, and each Dome was crammed onto a Block with roughly fourteen other domes, depending on the size of the families in each dome. 

 

Turning the paper again, Ember scanned the words and frowned. It seemed that the sender was attempting to write a petition for the laws on Ice Dragons to be loosened slightly. Not massively, like removing the Silencing, but a small thing, requesting that the work day ended roughly an hour before it currently did. 

Ember’s ears flicked softly as he considered how best to bring it up with his father and the council. It was a simple enough request, and ought to be easy to grant, if asked in the right way. He would have to work out the proper wording, make sure it sounded like it came from him and not from the Ice dragons themselves, but that would be a breeze.

Setting the paper back down, Ember turned to the council papers. The meeting would be in a few hours, which meant he needed to make sure he knew what to expect. Eagle would be bringing the rest of the council up to date on the Navy’s progress, Coal was planning to discuss changing the hours of the farmers, which might be a good opportunity to bring up the Ice Dragon hours changing, but he would be followed directly by Smoke, who seemed to be petitioning for performing the Silencing on all servants, instead of just the castle’s servants.  

Ember shook out his wings as his gaze flicked towards the window. The sun was just rising above the edge of the sea, the hour of awakening for the rest of the island. Within a few sols Crystal would be arriving, escorted by her three-day guide, and an hour after that they’d be expected in the Council Chamber.

Guiding the papers back into a stack, Ember’s gaze drifted towards the iron post in the middle of his room. He’d have to put it back on her, for appearances sake at least. There was no telling who might walk in while he was preparing for Council, and a newly claimed servant off her chain would reflect quite poorly on his part. He’d only just deflected his father’s questioning the last time, when Hurricane had accidentally breathed ice on the floor of the kitchens.

Then again, Hurricane hadn’t exactly been the brightest. Ember suspected the head injuries he’d received in the blacksmith, before being reassigned to Personal Servant, had affected him quite heavily.

Before Hurricane it had been Glimmer, a silvery white vixen who’d broken her cover by snarling at the king. She hadn’t been interrogated though, no, she’d been speared instantly by the many guards who’d heard her, leaving her body tattered and nearly impossible to carry back to the winter village.

Before Glimmer, was the one that had nearly gotten Ember caught, Shore had been a soft gray vixen with pitch black feathers, an unusual combination, but not entirely unheard of.  She’d been born without one of her forelegs, but she’d been an energetic, and faithful servant. Up until her lack of leg had gotten her in trouble for translating some signings just wrong enough in front of some noble dragon Ember couldn’t even remember the name of. 

Shore had broken quickly, or at least, that’s what he assumed. She’d been executed shortly after, per custom, but Ember was certain he’d had dragons tailing him for almost three lunar cycles after that.

He only tried to enlist the servants he picked from Choosing. The other ones, who were assigned to him, they were too much of a risk. They’d all been serving the castle for years. His only exception had been Hurricane, but in that case, he’d been completely reassigned, not just told to move to a different station, but sent back through the Choosing after it was clear his injuries were too extensive for him to continue in the Blacksmith.

Then there was his first servant. He remembered it clear as day, the first time he’d been told to pick an Ice Dragon to follow him, to command, to control.

A small orange dragonet blinked up at the ruby red form of his father. Father was always a distant figure. Sending Ember to lessons, and making sure he always acting properly, while maintaining a persona of authority.

“You are growing into an adult, Ember. It is time for you to put your studies to use. In two sunrises the Trainers expect to have finished with this year’s batch of servants and will Present them before the castle. This year, you shall choose which one you wish to have serve you, and only you.”

Ember’s dark eyes blinked up at his father curiously “Whichever one I want?” he asked, tail coiling upwards softly. His mother, a shimmering pale sunset vixen nodded at him “Whichever of the Presented you desire. The choice is yours, although the Head Trainer will be there to advise you and offer more information on any of the servants.”

Ember nodded his head quickly, barely suppressing the tremor of excitement that passed down his wings. He’d been working on a plan, and now he could make it work, he could get an Ice Dragon of his very own, who could help him rework the way the castle laws were written. 

Ember’s parents, completely oblivious as to the real reason for his delight, smiled down at him. Well, his mother smiled. His father’s muzzle twitched some with what looked like amusement, but it was better than nothing. “A dragon will be sent in the morning to guide you on your expected lines.” His mother said, flicking her tail tip dismissively “And your decorative armor shortly after. We shall see you after the ceremony.”

As Ember padded out, he thought he heard a murmur of something else, but when he turned his head, all he saw was the King and Queen of Drake’s Peak, gazing over the heads of guards like statues guarding their dragons.

The dawn of the Choosing ceremony arrived quickly, and as promised, multiple dragons arrived to prepare him for his expected performance. Surprisingly though, instead of the white servants he expected, all three dragons were of his own kind. Fire breathers, who brought up his armor and a piece of scroll for him to speak from. 

The morning went by quickly, almost too fast for Ember, but he was confident that he would be able to perform at least somewhat good. Well, halfway confident at least. 

By the time the crown prince was led out into the main courtyard by a viper with a rather nasty scar on his face, Ember had his head high and his wings carefully laid over his rich golden armor. The dragon in front of him, Torch, or perhaps Timber, smiled at him, and then pushed the wide double doors open.

Stepping out into the sunlight, Ember bit back a gasp. Most Ice Dragons he saw were covered in thin layers of dust or were dull-scaled due to lack of sunlight. But these dragonets, each two years older than him, and much taller, were practically glowing!

The Fire dragon with him, apparently mis-reading his reaction, lay one wing over Ember and growled in a low tone “Do not show fear. They submit to us, if they try to attack you, they will be killed for their impudence. “

The words didn’t exactly inspire confidence in Ember, but he resettled his wings with a firm shake and lifted his head. “That’s it, my prince.” The older dragon said, revealing his teeth with a broad smile. “Now then, let’s get to choosing your servant hmm?” The dragon’s tone was friendly enough, but his words were somewhat unsettling. As though they were picking out a mere pet, instead of a dragon forced into a life of slavery!

The other dragon led Ember towards the middle of the courtyard, where a line of twelve dragons stood, their heads bowed and their eyes downcast. A ruby red vixen stood before them, beaming as Ember drew closer. He recognized her as Wildfire, one of the councilors who served on the King’s Head, the advisors who helped Ember’s father deal with the various day to day problems. Not that there were many, but they did come on occasion.

“Ah, Crown Prince Ember!” the vixen purred, her gleaming red wings spreading into a bow as she lowered her head. “I welcome thee to the Choosing! Are you ready to make your decision?” As she bowed, Wildfire revealed the gemmed circlet on her head, clearly hinting that he should give her respect. She may be lower on the hierarchy than him, but not by much. 

Ember took a subtle breath and then said, “As this is my first Choosing, I would request of thee to better inform me of my options.” The viper beside him made a pleased noise, and Ember turned his gaze upwards to Wildfire. The red vixen looked quite delighted and bowed again “But of course, my prince.”

And then she began to talk about the Ice Dragons lined before them. Only, she spoke in such a bland tone, Ember found his ears drooping slightly. By the time Wildfire reached the final dragon, an unusually small pale gray vixen with raven black feathers, Ember barely remembered anything she’d said. 

“And our last one, but don’t let her size fool you, in the tests she was able to perform feats of…unexpected strength. I had been planning on saving her for the Blacksmiths, but of course, you have first choice.” Wildfire’s speech finally done, the ruby vixen stepped to the side to allow Ember to circle the Ice Dragons before him. 

Ember quickly ran a small tremor through his folded wings to make sure they were still in place, before approaching the line of gray and white scales. The first one he was interested in was a viper third in line, with pure white scales and soft blue and purple feathers. The unusual feather coloring was what drew his attention, as the feathers on the Ice Dragons were usually white or gray, bland colors, lacking the vibrant color that this viper had. 

A few moments later however, Ember decided that, though this dragon was interesting, he wouldn’t be much of a use as his own servant. The Ice Dragon seemed completely resolved in detaching himself from the physical world, his eyes gazing blankly at the earth, and barely responding when Ember ran a claw over the chain holding the viper in place, causing it to rattle against the young dragon’s chest.

Ember moved on to his next possibility, a tall wiry vixen with scales the color of ash and feathers like pure snow. Ember titled his head back, having not yet gone through his final massive growth spurt, and decided that he really didn’t want to be looking up at the dragon all the time. Sure, he wanted equality, but it might come off as too strong if she was looking down on him so to speak. 

Then he passed the rest of the dragons to circle the last vixen in line. She was around his size, which was odd, considering she was old enough to have already had her massive growth spurt, Ice dragons having only the one when they reached the age of ten, but he rather liked it. It would make that part of things a little easier on him at the very least. Her feathers were also something of an oddity. 

Possibly even rarer than the colored feathers of the viper he’d looked at a moment before. 

Unlike the others, this Ice Dragon seemed completely unable to hold still. She was picking at the earth, settling and resettling her tail feathers, and her ruff appeared as though it couldn’t decide to be up, down, or somewhere in-between.

Ember tilted his head at her and was delighted to see that she met his gaze, if only for a half second before flicking away to Wildfire, and then off to the dragon beside her. “Is there any more you can tell me about this one?” Ember asked, nodding towards Ruby and then the Ice Dragon in front of him. 

Wildfire nodded instantly “Of course.” She purred “This particular servant, though she may seem nervous, has performed quite admirably and I believe that, given some time, should shape into a fine servant. She is first in her family’s line to be Selected, but as a dragonet she was found breathing her ice into a perfect nest and dragging blankets on and off until it was, for an Ice Dragon, perfect.” 

Wildfire chuckled, and then continued “Her Talon-speak levels, in both Speaking and Understanding, are a little under average, at only level six, but keep her alive long enough and she’ll be put into classes at night.”

Ember nodded, he’d heard about those classes, though only dragons trusted not to run away were put into them. He wondered briefly if he could persuade anyone to let him take the classes as well, since his Understanding level was only at five, and his Speaking a mere three. 

“Anything else?” Ember asked, lifting his head slightly to meet the gray vixen’s gaze. Her blue eyes instantly darted lower, as though the dirt was the most fascinating thing in the universe, so he settled for watching her ruff instead. It was likely the only part of the vixen that was still, locked underneath her horns and positioned downwards. She was scared, and she had every right to be. 

Wildfire shook her head “No, there is nothing more of importance to be said about this servant.” Her gaze flicked towards the colorfully feathered male “Except perhaps, that I do not believe she would be…suited for a position as a personal servant. Perhaps one of the others-” Ember didn’t give her a chance to finish “I’ll take her.”

Ember had the vixen for less than a full lunar cycle before she’d caved in and spilled her guts to a counselor. She’d been interrogated and killed shortly after, but since Ember was so new to owning servants, they’d simply shrugged it off as bad master-ship.

To be fair, Ember had thrown everything on her rather quickly. And she had never really shown signs of bravery. Looking back, Ember had realized it would have been better to get her to warm up to him first, but he’d been eight, not exactly the smartest dragon on the island. 

After she’d been executed, Ember been given a former Gamekeeper who’d grown far too tall to fit into the cow stalls and had been so afraid of losing her that he hadn’t breathed a word of rebellion to the black-scaled vixen.

And now, here he was, trying again. Only this time, things would be different. Crystal was different.

He wasn’t going to let her die.