Sky City Chronicles

Book 1: Razor's Beginning

A Shattered Peace

          For as long as any dragon could remember, the lands of Drekinia and its capital of Sky City had known peace and prosperity across the ages.  Great schools of higher learning and wondrous architectural marvels sprang up like emberweed flowers across the landscape, while massive farms dotted the spaces in between growing sootleaf and jumper tinder.  My name is Razor Swiftwing, and this is my story.

          The crop had been a bit more thin than usual the past summer, so as I helped my father, Cutter Swiftwing, to cut down the tall stalks of sootleaf, I couldn’t help but think that we might go hungry during the coming winter.  Only half of our eight fields had grown anything substantial this season, whereas most years at least six of the eight grew almost too tall to harvest.  My red scales glinted with sweat as I swung my tail blade in wide arcs to scythe through the thick stalks.  The gray leaves for which the plant got its name lay all around me and hung from my sides here and there.  Several of the long leaves hung from my wings, and I gave them a swift shake to dislodge them.  My orange eyes peered through the stalks to my left to spy my father’s silver hide as he worked beside me.  Together we cut down the rest of the sootleaf and then began the arduous task of collecting the fronds to store for drying.  It was not for food that most dragons farmed sootleaf, but for the plant’s medical properties.  Sootleaf sniffed into an ailing dragon’s airways was almost a guarantee that the dragon would recover.  It also was a perfect way to stave off starvation should there be a famine.  Due to the plant’s wonderful properties, almost half of the farms in Drekinia were devoted to nothing else, although some questioned the reasoning behind that choice.

          As the sun began to set, father and I stuffed the last of the fronds into the storage silo and latched the door.  He turned to me with his blue eyes and asked, “Son, do you feel that you are ready to move on?”

          I looked up as I fastened the lock, surprised by his question, “What do you mean?  Move on to what?”

          He looked to the side and scratched the back of his neck, “I think it might be getting time for you to find your own home to live in.  Maybe find a mate to share that home with.”  He looked back at me as he set down his foot, “You are already twenty years old my son.  Most dragons move out of their homes by the time they turn sixteen.  Do you not wish to find your own place in this world?  Are you frightened of forging on your own?”

          I shook my head, “Farming is all I’ve ever known, and all I ever wish to know.  My place is here with you and mother so I can take over once you are no longer here to tend the farm.” I turned to face the house, looking off into the sunset as the sky burned with orange and yellow, the horizon only marred by the faint bump that was the tallest buildings of Sky City.  “I may look for a mate in the future, but right now my place is here.”  I looked back at him and saw a tear roll down his face, “What is wrong?  Did I say something to hurt you?”

          He shook his head, “No my son, you have made this old dragon more proud than you could ever imagine.  To choose to stay here even when you could leave any time you want, it does my heart good to know my legacy will have honor and responsibility when I am gone.”  He walked up to my side and then past me as he lead the way back to the house, “Come, and let us share your decision with your mother.”