Picture to the side is how I imagine Sashin looks like in his dragon form (in general terms). Pardon the mistakes; I’m reminded every day that I am human. Enjoy!
The building was not fancy. It was made of plain wood from top to bottom; it housed 20 small rooms on the first and second floor, a kitchen on the ground floor and a bar. The quarters of the owner were attached to the kitchen, while the rest of the ground floor was an open area filled with tables, chairs and benches for the arriving guests. The decorations were simple, almost inexistent, probably a decision made by a bright mind that had seen too many fights in such locals. Still, by the standards of those days it was quite the high-end place.
A carriage stopped in front of the entrance. The curtains were drawn in spite of the fact that it was already dark outside. A small weasel looking man with a mop of red hair on top of his head and very elegant attire jumped from the front bench and hurried to open the carriage door.
A tall hooded figure stepped out of the vehicle and went straight for the door without so much as a grumble towards his servant. The innkeeper, a large and cheerful looking man that held the eyes of a fox greeted the newcomer with a deep bow. The servant came running in at the same time and stopped in front of him looking rather skittish as he spoke:
- Your finest room for my master.
His voice came out loud and clear, in contrast with the way he looked making more than a few heads turn their way, something that would have alarmed most people since very few eyes held curiosity and most disdain and greed. However, the hooded figure didn’t seem bothered as he quietly followed the owner up the stairs to the second floor.
By the time the new arrival came down again, it was pouring rain and the sky was torn by bolts of lightning now and then. But once more, the newcomer didn’t seem to care much about that fact either. He took a sit at a table close enough to the fireplace to absorb some warmth, but far away from it to remain in the shadows. He sat there in silence, staring at the fire for the longest time. The innkeeper came out bringing a bowl of steaming soup and placed it in front of his guest then left, however the man only ignored it as he kept staring into the fire.
- It is nights such as these that make me think of the old days, a man no more than 20 years of age spoke as he too, stared into the fire from the table right next to the newcomer.
The hooded man ignored him, the silence between them feeling as though it belonged there, the quiet whispers in the background only adding to the feeling of comfort. But after a while the young man spoke again.
- I can’t decide whether I liked the old days more that the present, he said sounding as if he was speaking mostly to himself.
This time the hooded man turned to look at him, most of his face covered by the dark material, his head titling slightly to the side and his lips forming a small smirk.
- And what do you know of the old days, boy? They existed long before you were even an idea in your parents mind.
- I wouldn’t know. I never met them. I do have a story from back then though. It’s about how the legend of Tiana started.
The stranger flinched almost imperceptibly and stared at the young man for a few tense moments. Next his jaw clenched and he barely managed to speak the words that came out.
- The dragon slayer is just a myth. Just a story The Fallen mad up to blame their failures on.
The room had gone quiet once the man had started speaking, the anger in his deep voice making some shiver. The young man smiled:
YOU ARE READING
A Dragon's Curse
Fantasy- I can’t decide whether I liked the old days more than the present, he said sounding as if he was speaking mostly to himself. This time the hooded man turned to look at him, most of his face covered by the dark material, his head titling sl...
