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| "The Fable" prompt image from IronAge.Media |
The boy stumbled over the words as he stared fixedly at the book. “The great... king Leo... dee-... deh-... decreed that all people in the... kingdom had cer... certain rights... that even he, the... the... di-... divine... uh... sov... sovereggen...”
“Sovereign,” corrected Mautenrach, his bronze scales rippling down his back as he tasted the word. Some human words were so... delicious.
“Sovereign,” repeated the child, but then he looked up, sighing in exasperation. A lock of his pure white hair dropped over his eyes, and he brushed it away with a finger, tucking it behind his ear. “Mau, why are you making me read this, anyway?”
“Learning to read is important for humans,” Mautenrach explained. “Especially you, now that you are the last.” At the end of the war, the squad that Mautenrach had led found a strange laboratory under the castle Novus, after a siege. Human magic had many uses. Mautenrach had lost many friends and comrades to the Council before they were silenced forever. But this was the first time Mautenrach had seen such a thing:
A human infant, with hair as white as snow reaching to his shoulders--far longer than one would expect on an infant of that age--lay enveloped in a cradle of light, a cradle that dimmed and vanished when Mautenrach touched it.
The infant began to cry.
One of Mautenrach's lieutenants brandished a long, curved knife and offered to kill the boy, but Mautenrach silenced him, raising a claw to shield the baby. “No,” he had said back then. “This one has never harmed us, has never had any hand in harming us.”
“Still, he is human,” the lieutenant had hissed.
“Still. We shall wait, and see.” Mautenrach ripped a tapestry from the wall and swaddled the child in it. He lifted the little bundle into his arms, and the baby calmed. He rocked it gently as he and his squad left the devastated laboratory. The next day, he was granted the right to keep the child in recognition of his services.
“Mau?” The boy's quizzical voice brought Mautenrach back to the present.
Mautenrach blinked for a moment, considering. “There is a million lifetimes' worth of knowledge in human books,” he explained, “and it would be a waste of your human mind not to make use of it.”
“But Mau, if I'm the last, what good will that knowledge do?”
“It may be we will find more of your kind someday,” Mautenrach said, trying to make his voice as reassuring as possible. He reached out and placed his hand on the side of the boy's face. “Or it may be that we may someday understand the magic that made you.”
“Do you really think so?” The child's face was a curious mix of doubt and hope.
Mautenrach tried to smile, but his rows of sharp fangs made a mockery of it. “I do. So keep at it.” He gently patted the child on his head.
The boy looked back down at his book, and kept sounding out the words. Mautenrach sat back and closed his eyes to listen, but before long his mind wandered to the past. To times of fire.
Of blood.
Of fear.
Of rage.
Of screams.
For now, Mautenrach was content with teaching little David some history and some of humanity's best ideas. The time would surely come, someday, for Mautenrach to speak of the times of fire.
But not today.
# # #
I try not to toot my own horn too much, but I really liked the way this one turned out, even with minimal editing. I read a decent amount of fantasy and like it when the stakes aren't galaxy-sized. In this one, right now, it's just a kid learning to read. But in the future...
If you liked this, may I recommend my short story The Broken Home? it's futuristic, not fantasy, but it has some similar themes. It's free, too! I hope you enjoy!
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