In Part 1 (Ch. 1-5), we met our Static bookworm narrator Emilie and her friends: the active Mage Jess, the shy Wizard Shannon, and the enthusiastic and Dynamic Alex. But when Emilie was set to research her favorite true dragons, she read a mysterious note saying that she was a true dragon herself.
Reading for research isn’t nearly as fun as just reading normally, but reading stories for research with Daddy is still fun because of how he reads. He gives all the characters voices—some of them pretty funny, especially coming from his mouth—and makes listening to the stories enjoyable even as I compare them to the locked articles in the Mymoir. I have to say, they match up pretty well. Arthur receiving “the dragons’ blessing” (not to be confused with the article on “the Dragon’s blessing” in the Mymoir, which is kind of long) for defending his nation from raiders definitely makes more sense in the context of the time. And I suppose it’s nice that I have more than just Akiko’s word on Dragon history.
As for how no one has made the connection, the translators’ commentary is helpful. Generally, they believe one of three things: “dragon” refers to the other monsters (floral dragons, sea dragons, rock dragons, etc.) that look like true dragons but have known origins; “dragon” used to have a different definition altogether; or the dragons in the story are simply metaphors. Given the age of Beowulf, I’m inclined to believe it’s that last item for its rather hostile dragon, unlike what the commentary says.
While none of what we read was as straightforward as I would’ve liked, I think I have enough to make a semi-favorable report. And a mostly truthful one. I can’t outright say that true dragons aren’t monsters based on the non-Mymoir sources (besides, that would make me have to change the subject of my paper) but I can certainly say that true dragons used to be revered in a good way. Unfortunately, I’m not sure if I could find a print source for when that changed.
Walking home from the bus stop, I realize just how much my awareness has expanded. It’s a good distance between there and my house—much further than for the school bus—but only a few steps into the walk I can tell Mom and Al are home, and Mom’s making dinner.
The Mymoir said I can “change” heat. I haven’t tried doing that yet at all, but as a test, I wonder if I could keep my food from getting cold? I probably shouldn’t try it just yet. I wouldn’t want my food to catch fire for no apparent reason. At least at school I could blame an unknown classmate, but at home no one else can use any sort of magic.
Al greets Dad and me at the door when Dad knocks. “Hey, sis! Feeling better?”
I nod. I’m still trying to hide my eyes, though, so I move past him quickly to take off my shoes.
“Decided that you still like learning?” he continues.
I consider it. I know why I said what I did… “Not exactly. But I can’t just forget, either.” I wish I could forget. Just go back to how things were yesterday. But I’m stuck, so it’s up to me where things go from here.
Al doesn’t seem to know how to respond and just goes back to the kitchen. Mom and Dad won’t let me handle kitchen knives yet but there’s still things we can help with. When dinner approaches being ready, I help to set the table.
How am I supposed to hide my eyes at the dinner table? But—I refuse to run away. I need to make this work.
As we sit around the table, I pretend to pay an excessive amount of attention to my dinner settings. It’s just soup for tonight, nothing fancy. My excuses are going to run out eventually, but I want to put it off for as long as possible. While I normally don’t pay the best of attention to the family prayer, tonight I add a silent plea for my family to either not notice or not make a big deal out of my eye color. This color of blue is still a normal-ish eye color, but I almost wish I’d gotten black (sound). Heat doesn’t tell you what people are saying behind your back.
Dinner starts quietly enough. I’m super nervous, so it actually takes a lot of concentration to keep my hands steady while I eat. It’s nice in that I don’t have to pay attention to not talking. Eventually, dinner ends without incident, and I help clean up before rushing up to my bedroom.
Why does my room smell faintly of flowers?
I slam my door in panic before I realize the direction to the smell. I carefully creep across my room before stopping in front of… my bookshelf. I open the book on top to the middle pages and the smell immediately strengthens, confirming my guess. But why would Jess’s feather smell like a Dragon?
«Dragon Objects.» I suppose the Mymoir has an answer for everything. Well, it has been around for longer than the complete Bible, and I’m sure I’m not the first with that question.
«When a true dragon awakens, their most-valued possession becomes their “object.” This object will hold 90% of the Dragon’s stored magic in human form, and is essentially impossible to destroy. In addition, the Dragon can use their magic on their object at any range, even outside of their normal range.
«When shifting to dragon form, the object must be held unless the change is forced by reaching capacity. The object will then be in hand upon returning to human form, regardless of the cause of the first transformation.»
I skim the rest of the details. So… the feather is basically a part of me? And I’d kept it in the book so that it would stay in good condition, but I guess I don’t have to worry about that now. I can’t even misplace it.
But why Jess’s feather?