Sir Reginald

Chapter7: Story Time

 In the castle library, Reginald was reading a book. Actually, he was thinking about the black knight. Sir Nimdock was racing through his head, probably as fast and hard as he was racing to the castle. His mind struggled to stay in the present.

It had been two days since he and Feirult had gotten back from the battle with the ice wraith. Reginald had been doing usual check-ups on Daisella, and she seemed to be getting stronger with each day. Feirult was making sure she got around the castle, and Reginald was usually the one cooking meals. He had worked in a tavern a lifetime ago, and even though he was used as a gopher, he picked up quite a few cooking tips while there.

Still with his nose buried in the book, a soft, lovely presence entered the library. Her voice was sweeter than the morning mist on a bee-free honeycomb. "Sir Reginald?"

Reginald looked up from his book and saw Daisella. She was in a light white gown with a steaming cup of tea in her hand. Her healthy flesh tone had returned, and she seemed to have more strength.

"How are you today, my fare damsel?" Reginald asked with a bright, warm smile.

Daisella walked into the library and answered, "I am on my feet, I feel rested, and my wonderful dragon king is taking care of me. No complaints." She sat next to Reginald at the table he was at, looking curiously at the blank, cherrywood-colored book.

"How is the baby?" Reginald asked, closing the book and putting it aside.

"She's fine, thanks to you," Daisella said with a thankful smile.

Reginald smiled back. "All I did was recommend the ingredients; you're dragon king did the rest."

Daisella took a sip of her medicinal tea as she said, "Not the way he tells it. He said you broke the barrier around Gurgan's Void, and you're the one who pointed out the wraith's weakness. I'd say you did quite a lot in my book." Her smile got bigger and brighter.

Reginald blushed, not having done so in what seemed like an eternity, but he did so just the same. Barely being able to talk, overwhelmed with gratitude, he choked up, "It was all for you, my dear."

"Speaking of books, what is it you're reading?" Daisella asked.

With a sigh and a look at the book, patting it, Reginald looked at Daisella with bold eyes and asked her, "Feirult told you nothing of Gurgan's Void, did he?"

Daisella thought for a minute. "No, he didn't. Just that it was a graveyard and that it was a place that no dragon wanted to go."

Reginald nodded. "Four millennia ago," he began, breaking with an exhale, knowing he had a long story ahead of him: "there was a small kingdom called Stennakar. It wasn't unlike any other kingdom around the time, except for no king or queen—the royal lineage was cut years ago—so the castle lay bare. From the legends, though, it was a big castle. Also, dragons lived in Stennakar. They were quite the nuisance. Taking what they wanted, killing who they liked, pillaging and torturing... that sort of thing."

Daisella looked like she was trying not to interrupt. Her face was pinched, and she seemed to be hanging on to her own words. However, she said nothing and let Reginald continue.

"The small kingdom didn't want anymore of this, so the Order of Stennakar was formed: a rag-tag bunch of would-be knights. They called themselves the best dragon slayers in the land." Reginald chuckled. He went on, losing his blush and his smile. "Nothing could have been further from the truth. Nearly four years went by, my dear, and not a single dragon had fallen to their blades. Until a small, naïve mage found a spell book. It was said that he had been pushed to the limit to protect Stennakar. He made a deal with the dark ones, the deep, dark ones—what are now known as fire fae.