A whistled tune echoed in the corridor, and Ansgarde turned to the sound. Peridot, the current Keeper of the Scrolls, walked in her direction, a long leather tube under his arm.
“My favorite visitor,” he called as soon as he recognized her.
She was tempted to leave. His interest in her made her uneasy, but she scolded her irrational fear. This could be the change she needed. She couldn’t move out of her parents’ house without suffering shame - everyone would think she was shunned - but if she bonded to a male, she could start her own household, gain respect, and have the freedom to pursue her interests. They could work in the Tower together and discuss dragons during breaks. She wouldn’t have to hide her scrolls anymore. But Empyreals could not bond to someone they did not love. Could she learn to love Peridot?
He smiled charmingly and greeted Spinel, which sent the little demon into a dancing frenzy.
Ansgarde returned the smile, willing herself to find at least one attractive trait in him. His face was pulled, stretched vertically, his body slight, and his wings bony - too weak to follow her to Lower Heliodor. She didn’t even like his knobby fingers clutching the tube. No. There was nothing to admire. He was a wet sock like the rest of them.
He gestured at the scroll in front of her. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to get the scroll.”
She stood aside and watched him open the glass case. He gently unhooked the scroll and rolled it up.
“Time for maintenance?” she guessed.
Her grandfather loved this part of the job. He took pride in restoring old artifacts and invited her to watch the process.
“I’ll put a fresh sealant on it to prepare it for storage.”
Ansgarde blinked, unsure if she misunderstood. “Storage?”
He stuffed the scroll in the tube and secured it with a cap. “I’m going to clear this entire wing to prepare for a new shipment.” He winked at her. “Come by in a week. I’ll introduce you to our newest acquisition. The theme is,” he demonstrated with a wide gesture in the direction of the other scrolls in glass cases. “Empyrean diversity across the Nether. It’s fascinating how different our kin are from us. You’ll love it.”
He walked away, whistling again, while Ansgarde stared at the empty case, which looked wrong without the scroll. She always assumed it would be there whenever she wanted to look at it again and remember her grandfather. Everything she loved was being taken away from her.
Spinel had finished the stem of the leaf, licked her fingers, and danced in the air.
“Oooh ah Eee!” she giggled, making funny faces, all hyped up after the meal.
“I’m looking. I’m looking,” Ansgarde answered automatically, eyes locked on the case while her heart sank into a dustpit. They treated the scroll like an art piece, as if the fate of an entire race didn’t rely on it. Was she really the only one that believed in the prophecy?
“Do you think the dragon legend is true, Spinel?”
Her little friend nodded repeatedly, flew on top of the case, and sat at the edge.
“When I was a little spawn, I used to pretend that I was the prophesied Spawn of Heliodor,” she recalled fondly, “that I went on a quest to save the dragons.”
Her smile fell. It was a stupid dream. Even if the legend was true, she was no hero. She had no special abilities. She never bothered to learn magic. She wrote about epic quests. She wasn’t qualified to lead them.
“But now, no one will read the scroll and be inspired to go on the quest. Dragons will remain cursed.”
This saddened her beyond measure. An entire majestic race trapped. A world without dragons was like an Empyreal without wings. She wished Sadie was real. Dragons needed a hero like her.
Spinel jumped up and hovered in the air, her wings moving so fast, they were invisible.
“Ey oh uey!” she exclaimed enthusiastically.
Ansgarde shook her head. “Spinel, I love you, but you’re ridiculous. I can’t go on a quest.”
Spinel’s attempt to convince her turned her voice into a pitch so high, it was hard to follow.
Ansgarde walked away, not giving in to the ruse. As she approached the exit balcony, each step felt heavier than the last. Somewhere deep inside her, she wanted to go on this quest that she had always dreamt of. But she couldn’t.
“What do I know about breaking curses?” she mused to herself.
But maybe once she got there, she would figure it out. Weren’t curses usually puzzles waiting to be solved? She loved puzzle games.
“I’m a nobody.”
But she was an Empyreal. Heliodor was famous for the floating upside-down island that was home exclusively to her race. What other race could the scroll have referenced? And why was it in Empyrean archives to start with?
She lingered on the balcony, overlooking her peaceful homeland bathed in the morning sun. Every house looked exactly the same. It was peaceful and safe. There was a calm beauty in it, but it was a beauty she had seen every day. What did the Cloud Empire look like? If the islands were not upside down, and their sky was blue, what else was different?
“I wish I knew someone fit for this quest. I could go with them as their sidekick.”
Spinel got in front of her again, crossed her arms, and puffed out her little chest. “Ee ay aiee.”
Ansgarde cracked a smile, playing along. “How nice of you to offer, Spinel. I’d love to be your sidekick. We’d journey together, free the dragons, and come home heroes.”
Spinel giggled and started making up grand theories as to how they could get to the Cloud Empire. She was an imaginative little thing. She danced in the air, playing out dragon adventures and stopped suddenly, her mouth wide open.
She dived to the floor, licked a finger and traced symbols on the shiny tiles too small to distinguish.
“Are you imagining that you know magical runes?” Ansgarde asked.
Spinel finished, looked up, and called out, “Aa-ah-ooh! Aa-ah-ooh! Aa-ah-ooh!”
Ansgarde frowned, recognizing Lamassu’s name. “Be careful. You could accidentally summon someone by calling out their name like that.”
A wave of energy washed over her, and she turned to the source of magic taking shape behind her. Her stomach jumped to her throat.
“Spinel! What have you done?”
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