DragonSky | ONC 2020 SHORTLIST

4. Lamassu

A whistled tune echoed in the west corridor of the Tower of Sacred Scrolls. Ansgarde turned to the sound and found Peridot, the current Keeper of the Scrolls, walking in her direction, a long leather tube under his arm.

"My favorite visitor," he called as soon as he recognized her.

Ansgarde 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 had been 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. He wasn't ugly, but his face was pulled, stretched vertically. His body was 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 had 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.