One Word Prompts

Tranquil - The Dragon Knight

The pond was still. The koi floated beneath the surface, hardly moving. Morning steam came off the water, the air still far colder from the dark night than the water's surface, warmed by the early sun.

She sat on the stone sill. Her finger tips touched the water, ripples falling off them as she moved. It had been a long time since she had been here, but once, she had begun all her mornings like this.

This morning, like mornings now long past, she waited.

She didn't have to wait long, but he had never been one to keep her long. Even today, unexpected as her visit was, it was only a few minutes before he appeared.

He didn't appear all at once. He never did. First the morning mist thickened, forming wisps, then tendrils. These wove together, twirling and thickening, catching the dawn and scattering the gold light. In the swirling air the silhouette of a great snake took shape, scales of white becoming solid from the haze and reflecting the sun rather than letting its light pass through. Much of the remaining mist took on a soft quality, becoming like fur or feathers, long whiskers coming off his maw, a sleek mane around his head, all tinted the blue of the morning sky or the gold of the dawn sun. Two antlers, sweeping back crowned his brow.

"You've returned," he said. His voice was the kind not spoken aloud, but heard by all, echoing in the ether. The kind heard not by physical ears but by the soul. "Why? I thought you said"—

She shook her head. He didn't say it to say he told her so, but she the guilt in her stomach rose anyway. "I know. I thought the world didn't need your power anymore."

"And now?"

"Now I know it was selfish to give up." Her head hung. She didn't look him in the eyes.

"And if it is selfish to take it again?" he asked. His eyes, completely milky white, stared into her. She could feel his gaze, even as she looked away.

"The world needs a Dragon Knight," she said. "There is no one else with the training or the aptitude to wield your power. Even if I don't want it, what else can I do?"

"There is only ever one," he warned. "Would you rob the chance of another?"

"What other?" She shook her head. Only a handful could withstand the power of a dragon, and at the time she had given up that power, there had not been another who could. "We need your power now."

"And if there was another beside yourself who could take it? Would cast aside the life you wanted?"

"That isn't fair," she said. Her hands clenched in fists at her side. Neither of them had wanted this. Neither had wanted him to become this spirit of the land, neither had wanted her to carry his power, to live that life of conflict.

He only watched her. Another might have taken his silence for indifference, his stillness for uncaring, but she could still see the human him beneath the scales and fur. She could see him fiddling with something in his pockets, his eyes down cast.

Still, she did not let up. "What good is hypotheticals? I have accepted my fate. Let me carry this."

"And what if you are no longer worthy?"

She looked up, her eyes meeting his in surprise. "Am I not?"

Again, he didn't answer. But she could see the guilt in his posture for even suggesting it. For suggesting their trust had waned so much.

But still, he didn't speak, didn't allay that fear. Something remained unspoken.

"What?"

"What would you do if there was another?"

"There can't be." It was a simple, if inconvenient truth. "Even if there was a child with the aptitude, they can't possibly have the skills needed to master your power yet."

He made no move.

"There isn't time to train another."

A long drawn out silence. She could see him, in her memories, fiddling away with something out of sight, a nervous habit taken from him with everything else.

"But if there was?" he said. "If there was time, if she had a teacher."

"There isn't time as there is," she argued. "You think I came back because there were other options? The Tiger's vessel already walks the realm. Where ever he goes a path of destruction follows in his wake. We cannot wait."

"Could the others not stall? Delay him?"

"We do not know what each will choose. I cannot risk your vessel choosing to side with him. This is the only path to peace."

"You don't know that," he said. "You don't know that this will end how you want. You can't know if this is the only action which would."

"But I can't do nothing." She looked over the pond, over the still water and the lazy koi. This peace was what was at risk. The peace of the world and of the people. Not just her life, but every life. Caught up in the chaos of spirits and magic. Her peaceful life was over, whether she took up his power again or not. Best, if she made the most of that sacrifice. "Let me do this."

"Train her," he said.

"Her?"

"The next vessel. The next Dragon Knight."

She shook her head. "Have you listened to a word I've said?"

"Please." A dragon has no puppy eyes, no way of widening its milky orbs, no way of pouting its scaled lips. But her dear friend of her memory could, and despite his scales and horns and all-seeing but sightless eyes, did so.

"You really think she can save us?" she asked.

He responded with simple words, expressing a simple faith, "If you show her how."