stuff in study hall, except for the ever eager Boe.
We filed into the study and everyone was already talking noisily with each other, planning out their days. I overheard talk of a card game, and two of the Stone Souls were whispering something about sneaking into the keep to find the wife that they’d been assigned to Watch during the Stoneflame ceremony. I realized then that I hadn’t given any more thought to Kamelia since the log ride. Normally just the thought of her would make me have to hide a smile, but thinking of her now just made me remember how she’d called me a boy. It still stung, even though she’d followed it up by wishing me luck against a dragon. Still, what else would she say? I hope you die? But she’d been kind about it. Sweet, even. She’d smiled at me. She did have a great smile. But it wasn’t Daija’s smile. Daija. Thinking of her now put a smile on my own face, one that I couldn’t hide. I knew then what my plan for study hall would be. I was going to write a letter to Daija. Or I would die in the attempt.
I found a stack of parchment paper and some quill pens with writing ink, gathered them up and carried them to a desk at the end of a long row of books. I would need my privacy, after all. Of course, I’d have to get rid of Boe first, and he seemed too curious about what I was doing to scamper off and start reading whatever books he’d normally be reading during study hall.
“What’s all that for?”
“I’m going to forge a sick note from the royal apothecary,” I said. Affecting a terrible impression of the man, I continued: “Caedan Jade, the strongest Stone Soul and our last hope for this academy to ever produce another Dragon Master has fallen ill. I will be assigning him to be personally waited upon hand and foot by no fewer than six of the Master’s wives until he recovers, which I expect to happen precisely the morning of graduation. Carry on all training duties to the best of your ability in his absence.”
“Right,” Boe laughed. “Good luck with that.” He walked off, shaking his head in amusement. I watched him until he turned down another row of books before giving my attention to the blank parchment in front of me.
I prepared the quill, and dipped it in ink, then set it to paper so that I could begin to write. My hand wavered, ink began to well on the quill and spread onto the parchment. I had no idea how to say what I wanted to say. I had no idea what I wanted to say. I started drawing. I was no artist, but I figured I should do something while I figured out what to write, and the parchment was already ruined by my false start. I drew great curved lines, and thought that they kind of resembled the tail of the shooting star. I tried to draw a star at the end of the lines, but it wasn’t working out so I began drawing a spiral instead. I got caught up in my abstract work of art and forgot that I was supposed to be thinking about what I would write to Daija. Soon the page was oozing with black ink and I had to lift it carefully so that the ink didn’t spill off the page and stain the desk. I set a new piece of parchment in front of me.
This time I wiped and cleaned the quill and decided not to dip it in ink until I had a plan. Nothing was coming to mind. I stared at the blank parchment, trying to imagine the words that I would write there. All I could picture were Magnilda’s writing exercises, pages of nonsense phrases designed to teach us proper penmanship. I decided that I probably could use a refresher in penmanship so that when I wrote the letter it would look regal and impressive. I dipped the quill and began to write from memory,
“Dragon born a’rage bewith,
Twice o’eachery year fifth,
Twice nine beajoined a’foreknown,
Bestrucketh benixt fiery Stone.
***
“Curse’d horror split realms awar,
Dragonwhelp Lævena fettswore,
Curse’d Master o’Stonedragon Flame,
Unhemmed ruination bepent aim.
***
“Silver a’Jade befix
We filed into the study and everyone was already talking noisily with each other, planning out their days. I overheard talk of a card game, and two of the Stone Souls were whispering something about sneaking into the keep to find the wife that they’d been assigned to Watch during the Stoneflame ceremony. I realized then that I hadn’t given any more thought to Kamelia since the log ride. Normally just the thought of her would make me have to hide a smile, but thinking of her now just made me remember how she’d called me a boy. It still stung, even though she’d followed it up by wishing me luck against a dragon. Still, what else would she say? I hope you die? But she’d been kind about it. Sweet, even. She’d smiled at me. She did have a great smile. But it wasn’t Daija’s smile. Daija. Thinking of her now put a smile on my own face, one that I couldn’t hide. I knew then what my plan for study hall would be. I was going to write a letter to Daija. Or I would die in the attempt.
I found a stack of parchment paper and some quill pens with writing ink, gathered them up and carried them to a desk at the end of a long row of books. I would need my privacy, after all. Of course, I’d have to get rid of Boe first, and he seemed too curious about what I was doing to scamper off and start reading whatever books he’d normally be reading during study hall.
“What’s all that for?”
“I’m going to forge a sick note from the royal apothecary,” I said. Affecting a terrible impression of the man, I continued: “Caedan Jade, the strongest Stone Soul and our last hope for this academy to ever produce another Dragon Master has fallen ill. I will be assigning him to be personally waited upon hand and foot by no fewer than six of the Master’s wives until he recovers, which I expect to happen precisely the morning of graduation. Carry on all training duties to the best of your ability in his absence.”
“Right,” Boe laughed. “Good luck with that.” He walked off, shaking his head in amusement. I watched him until he turned down another row of books before giving my attention to the blank parchment in front of me.
I prepared the quill, and dipped it in ink, then set it to paper so that I could begin to write. My hand wavered, ink began to well on the quill and spread onto the parchment. I had no idea how to say what I wanted to say. I had no idea what I wanted to say. I started drawing. I was no artist, but I figured I should do something while I figured out what to write, and the parchment was already ruined by my false start. I drew great curved lines, and thought that they kind of resembled the tail of the shooting star. I tried to draw a star at the end of the lines, but it wasn’t working out so I began drawing a spiral instead. I got caught up in my abstract work of art and forgot that I was supposed to be thinking about what I would write to Daija. Soon the page was oozing with black ink and I had to lift it carefully so that the ink didn’t spill off the page and stain the desk. I set a new piece of parchment in front of me.
This time I wiped and cleaned the quill and decided not to dip it in ink until I had a plan. Nothing was coming to mind. I stared at the blank parchment, trying to imagine the words that I would write there. All I could picture were Magnilda’s writing exercises, pages of nonsense phrases designed to teach us proper penmanship. I decided that I probably could use a refresher in penmanship so that when I wrote the letter it would look regal and impressive. I dipped the quill and began to write from memory,
“Dragon born a’rage bewith,
Twice o’eachery year fifth,
Twice nine beajoined a’foreknown,
Bestrucketh benixt fiery Stone.
***
“Curse’d horror split realms awar,
Dragonwhelp Lævena fettswore,
Curse’d Master o’Stonedragon Flame,
Unhemmed ruination bepent aim.
***
“Silver a’Jade befix
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