Chapter 3

Thornsager

Edward's sandals barely skimmed the tips of the grass as he stuck his foot out the door of the carriage. They each bent and whispered in the wind. Reeds whistled on the edge of the road and seemed to play a melody as the horse's hooves tapped out a allegro rhythm.

He felt giddy with anticipation.

His father did not.

"It's bad enough that you played hooky yesterday night and decided to skip your own Ceremony, Edward. Now we have to pay extra just to see if you even have a 'secret Spirit'. Which, chances are, you don't even have."

Edward's father glanced over at him, almost red with rage.

"Edward Zachary Thomas, lift your foot back into the carriage. You already spoiled your dress clothes with mud and filth from playing with the commoners yesterday. Your mother will be livid when she has to have the maids clean another pair of shoes!"

"Father, a little grass won't be bad for my shoe. Mother even said it herself. She said that I needed to go out more and find some friends or someone to enjoy myself with. I want to be like everyone else!" Edward retaliated.

The truth was, Edward really wanted to be like the "commoners" that his father so dearly despised. They made the best wrestling partners and he had even won 5 Qwerts from them. He had truly enjoyed himself that day. That was, until his father chewed him out for soiling his blouse. True, he had missed the Ceremony, but like his father had just stated, chances were low of him obtaining a Spirit. Higher than that of a commoner's, but still low, even if he was nobility. Edward lifted his foot into the carriage again and closed the door with a click. Tung was still a ways off, and Edward was getting bored. Feeling the air whip across his cheeks had felt marvelous, and the reeds had sounded like panpipes.

"It will not be long now, Edward. Put yourself into the right frame of mind. This will be one of the most important and expensive days of your life."

Expensive. Figured. His father was one of the richest landlords around. The Thompson family must survive on the gold it can extract from all other civilians around it. His father made it sound like it was some sort of gold mining expedition. What use was gold to be if you couldn't do anything else but obtain it?

Edward gazed out of the window. There was so much to life that still needed to be explored and understood. If he were to take the place of his father as a landlord and the most shrewd businessman in all of Jina, it would mean sacrificing any other ambitions outside of his manor. He already felt trapped and caged as it was, even when he did get to explore. He wanted to be further out than just the grasslands. He wanted to be in Kamna, surrounded by the Blackwoods, and more than three days away in travel.

If obtaining a Draconic Spirit meant he could wander freely without his father nagging at his poor economic and moral choices, he would be Marked without a second glance.

His father caught Edward's eye as he observed the upset boy.

"Surely it cannot be that bad, can it Edward? Think of it. You, the most powerful man in the known world. Who says you can't have it all? You could be working by my side as my apprentice even now. It would do you good. Qwerts are just the start of something great. Soon, you'll be earning Trews and even the great golden Quinks. Father and Son business. Think of it!"

His father chuckled and reclined back in the seat, staring out of the window towards the front of the carriage.

"Faster, Phenix! Ride them faster!"

A click from Phenix and a lurch from the carriage told Edward that Phenix had heard them. Even though Phenix was Edward's age, the poor boy had gone deaf in one ear. The result of being boxed around the ears by his first neglectful household. In fear, Phenix had fled far to escape and soon came to Edward, who had been in his manor's garden. Upon seeing the bloodied boy, Edward was shocked. Both of them had been no older than six, yet seeing the boy with the bloody ears had both scared him and quite interested him.

Edward had taken the boy to his father who had initially said that they could not afford to pay another servant. At this, the boy trembled and begged him, telling him the story of why he had run away in the first place. He apologized deeply and promised that he would not run away from this place if he was to be hired.

Reluctantly, Edward's father agreed.

The boy was given a job as a stableboy, where he bonded with each horse as if they were brethren. Only a month afterwards, one of the boy's favorite horses died. It was an old horse, but it was the one that loved the boy the most. The boy was distraught at the death. As he spoke to Edward, they too, learned about one another and began to bond as friends, as unlikely as it seemed. The boy explained that the horse's name was Phoenix. Edward had asked him what his name was. When the boy could not produce one, claiming that his household had never cared for him so much as to give him one. Edward had suggested Phenix, to remember the horse by.

Within days, the boys became inseparable, doing almost everything within a few footlengths of the other. Soon, Phenix took the position of guiding the carriage as it went along its way. He was so gentle with the horses, it surprised even Edward's father and he trusted no other to take care of the horses in any other way.

Red roofed houses passed into Edward's sight. They were in Tung. A small village, but a delightful one.

A few of the boys came out of their houses to see the carriage heading towards the center of town. Edward recognized some of them as his wrestling partners from yesterday. Some of them had bruises and only two had black eyes. Nonetheless, the boys shouted at him from outside, cheering at him for a good fight.

Edward waved back. He would have to do it again sometime.

His father tensed, but said nothing as the carriage finally passed the houses.

Phenix clicked again and tugged the reins back, slowing the horses. They were in front of another house. A Shaman's. Edward looked at it, puzzled.

"Don't the elders hold the Ceremony? Why are we here?"

His father responded without looking at him.

"Shamans experience a closer connection to the Spirits than those old hoots. If it's going to be that expensive, I'd like you to have the best chance of actually getting something out of it. This is the way we'll do it. I don't want to be sitting around for an hour as the elder explains why we have the Marked. You know the story just as well as I."

Edward nodded as he opened the carriage door.

He heard whoops and hollers as he stepped out and jeers of 'Wrestling King!' and 'Pay up Edward!' as the group of boys stormed towards him. Edward spotted Jeremy and Turner sprinting at the head of the pack. They were the ones with the black eyes. Soon, they tackled him to the ground, the rest of the group following directly afterwards.

Instinct kicked in as Edward knocked aside one boy after the other, only taking a hit or two in retaliation. Soon Edward stood panting in a ring of exhausted and slightly laughing boys.

"All right boys," Edward said as he slowed his breathing at last, "Pay up!"

Jeremy and Turner were the first to slap two Qwerts into his open palm. Each of the other boys also collected from the boys around them. Apparently he hadn't been the only one who had placed a bet on him winning. Finally, all of the seven boys had paid and Edward was left with fourteen Qwerts in total.

It was then that he got a good look at his shirt which was torn and muddied. For some reason, his father must not have seen the fight. Hopefully, he was inside, haggling with the Shaman. Hopefully.

"You guys! Look what you did to my shirt! Dad's gonna kill me!" Edward huffed.

Turner waved a hand. "We got you "Pay up". There's some extra clothes in the tree over there that Patches may or may not have stole. We were expecting this." Turner grinned and shook some dust out of his sandy blond hair.

Jeremy pointed towards the tree. "We'll make a distraction. Just be quick."

As Edward scurried towards the spruce, Jeremy and Turner began to argue. First trading insults, then throwing dirt, until finally, they lunged at the other and began an all out brawl. Other boys got into the fray, including Patches, a small, sickly boy with faded ginger hair.

Quickly, he slipped out of his ripped up clothes and shimmied into the fresh, new ones, which, impossibly, fit like a glove. Patches did well.

Edward glimpsed out of the tree again and saw that even Phenix was placing bets on the boys. Edward may or may not have taught him a thing or two about brawling.

Just as Edward was tightening his belt, his father came storming out and began to force the two boys apart. Edward took the moment to run into the carriage on the opposite side and close the door so that it looked like he had been hiding within the carriage the whole time. Phenix followed suit, collecting his bet and stashing it in his pocket as he jumped back onto the driver's ledge.

Edward's father shouted a few inaudible words while cuffing them on the backs of their heads. All the while, Jeremy and Turner were smiling, obviously enjoying the attention they had caused as brawlers. Finally the boys were sent off and they sprinted away, shouting the whole way. Edward noticed that Robert hadn't been with them today. He wondered why that was. Robert was one of the most lively of the group and the largest fighter. Next to Edward, Robert reaped most of the rewards. It wasn't like him just to leave without telling anyone why it was so.

Finally, Edward's father opened the door, ushering him into the Shaman's home.

"How on earth did you get cut? Did those boys beat up on you?" His father asked pointedly.

"It's fine. I'm fine. I'll just try to be more careful in the future I guess."

"Careful is correct. I can't have you gallivanting around beating others up or being beaten up upon yourself. You have a responsibility after all."

"Right. A responsibility." Edward murmured as he brushed aside a curtain of beads.

Within the room, countless animal pelts lay over the floor, coming from bears, deer, Grey wolves, foxes, beavers, leopards and other beasts. On the walls hung several tapestries depicting animal spirits and natural sights as well as masks made of feathers, beads and colorful paints. On shelves sat animal bones and skulls along with herbs and spices in urns and jars, and in a cage sat a single, sleeping barn owl.

The barn owl blinked open its eyes, observing Edward with their sparkling darkness. It tipped its head quizzically, as if trying to determining who this newcomer was.

"Oh Archimedes, stop staring. They are here for our assistance."

From behind another curtain of bright red and purple fabric, stepped a lightly clad woman with ebony hair and a dark complexion. Her eyes shone with an abnormal orange hue. Archimedes closed his eyes again and turned away.

The woman was dressed in a long, thin skirt which trailed all the way to her ankles and then some. A cropped bodice was laced tightly over her chest and she wore a faint veil over her hair, which was done up in a series of complex braids which resembled curled horns. The rest of her hair trailed down to her midsection, which was bare of any clothing, revealing taut musculature and apparent fitness.

Like a cat, the woman sat down upon a tasseled cushion and lit incense within a silver pan hanging from the ceiling. The smoke from it barely filled the room and smelled of cinnamon and a bitter scent Edward could not place.

"Lavender to invite the Spirits to us, and Myrrh to maintain enlightenment and to retain the spirit of youth. Bitter it may be, but useful to our purposes. Come, Edward, sit with me."

Slowly, Edward crouched down on the pelt of a jungle cat. The woman looked at him with slight interest.

"You have chosen the cloud leopard. Silently and quickly it brings the end of its foes who stand before it, at home in the denseness of the trees which touch the skies. An interesting persona."

Edward remained silent, befuddled at the Shaman's words. He looked towards his father, but he had only sat down upon another cushion which lay nearby. His father sat stone faced, only nodding at the Shaman's words.

The Shaman bowed her head and said softly,

"Forgive me, young Edward, I have neglected to reveal my name. I am Angeni. One whose name is Spirit. I am here to assist individuals who long to seek audiences with those long past, or to those who long to reveal more that they have neglected to see about themselves. Now, I grant this to you."

Angeni closed her eyes as if she were meditating for a few moments before her eyes opened again and flashed their bright, fiery hue. She stood and reached towards a shelf with components sitting upon it. It was then Edward realized just how tall Angeni was. The shelf stood ten feet off of the cushioned floor, but Angeni reached it with little to no difficulty, not even straining her fingers over the six inch long board from the wall.

When the Shaman returned, Edward caught a glimpse of something glittering in her hand.

Angeni whispered a few words in a language Edward did not understand, ending with a shout as she thrust the objects in her hands towards the boy.

Edward reflexively raised his hands to shield himself, but the impact never came.

As he opened his eyes, Edward saw before him five glittering items barely floating over a oriental rug which sat before Angeni and himself.

"What are they?" Edward asked with an air of awe at these glittering stars.

"These, young Edward," said Angeni with a touch of satisfaction, "are dragon scales. One from each of five elements. Earth, Air, Plant, Lightning, and Sun."

"What about the other four?" Asked Edward inquisitively. "If you were able to obtain the scales of these already powerful dragons without dying, why not obtain all nine? You could wield so much more elemental energy with all elements."

"Exactly," Angeni said, waving a hand. "Imagine if I did. If someone were to kill me or rob my home, they would have access to all imaginable power. If the power came into the wrong hands...". She trailed off.

Edward nodded his head, understanding of the predicament.

"Besides the fact," Angeni began again, "The remaining dragons are mostly hard to come by. These scales were obtained from the deceased. Those dragons who live do not care to be disturbed, let alone be asked for one of their scales. No, I only take from those who need their second life at the moment, not from those who still are. Fire, Water, Night, and Death never die where they cannot control. Fire burns within their volcanic realm, Water sinks to join their multitudes, Night glitters among the stars, and Death never reveals its mortality."

"So it is true that Purple dragons never die?" Edward asked with interest.

Angeni cocked her head and her earrings jingled.

"I did not say that was so, did I? I simply implied that Purple dragons never reveal where they die or when, or even that they reveal they are like any other of their kind in mortality. What I said was that they do not show that they die. No one has ever seen the remains of a deceased Purple dragon. They despise having their secrets known. Xantina above any other."

Edward decided that he should discontinue asking ridiculous questions.

Angeni held out her hand and took Edward's.

"I am no elder Edward, so listen closely. Do you hear them?"

Edward sat in silence for a moment, trying to hear whatever Angeni was referring to. He closed his eyes, trying to concentrate.

Whispers echoed in his ears. Some was unconcentrated gibberish, voices speaking over others, but some Edward could pick out. Some sounded like they were calling his name, others whispered in ecstatic excitement, and still others whispered to others as to who he may be.

Edward opened his eyes in shock. Angeni smiled at him.

"You can hear." She said with slight pleasure. "This makes things much easier."

"What are those voices? Why were they talking about me?" Edward asked, frightened.

"I assure you, there is nothing to be afraid of, Edward. These are simply spirits who wonder why you have come to them. Or rather_"

Angeni blew a stream of air onto the smoke hanging in the air.

"Why I have summoned them to me."

The smoke twisted and swirled, and seemed to pulse into five separate forms. Edward saw scales forming, wings unfurling, eyes glittering, until five dragons stood before him, each bristling and whispering to the other.

The short, wide form of the Brown dragon stood to Edward's immediate left. It's hood opened and closed and its flexible ribs expanded and contracted from its sides, creating a single mastlike plain, its membrane stretched between the ribs.

To Edward's immediate right stood a Grey dragon, its long neck curved gently to its chest and its thin claws grasped the ground. Its claws, as Edward observed were part of its wings. The wings bent to touch the ground and the bones within bent to the sides of its body and flared behind it, fading in color the closer to its whiplike tail it went.

To the right of the brown dragon stood a Gold dragon. It's gentle, golden whiskered face stared directly into his eyes. The dragon's own were like molten pools of the metal it was named after and they seemed to be endless, deeper than the void. It stood upon all four of its powerfully built legs and the gold of its scales reflected what little candlelight was in the Shaman's quarters. In fact, it seemed as if the dragon itself was a source of light which lit the room with a faint sunlike glow. Its wings were tucked against its back, but the frills, which were its wings, continued until the very tip of its tail. The sage face seemed to see directly into Edward's soul, as if it could truly comprehend everything the young boy could have ever done, even if the dragon had never seen the boy before.

To the right of the Grey dragon stood a White dragon. Its head frills seemed to be swept back over its neck like the element it obtained. Its scales varied from a pale cream, to white, to a sky blue, and its wings gave the illusion they were made of crystallized ice. Its catlike eyes viewed Edward narrowly and its spiked tail thrashed carefully around its powerful haunches. Its forelegs rolled in the air before landing carefully upon all four.

However, the most magnificent in Edward's eyes was the dragon who stood directly before him. Its scales glittered with all the hues of the forest, the gaps within its scales had veins of earth brown and they were as deep and as rugged as the forests and valleys. Its inquisitive emerald eyes saw deeper than just the skies, it saw the world.

Edward saw himself.

Angeni gently touched Edward's arm, which, he realized, was reaching towards the Green dragon, almost touching its thin muzzle. He realized that the dragon was almost serpentine, its legs used only as a secondary balance with its extremely long tail. Its arms were pressed to its sides and it had no wings to speak of. As if the world was its home and it wanted no other.

Angeni gestured towards the floating scales again. Edward turned his attention towards her.

Angeni smiled, "Now it is time for them to choose. Edward, silence your thoughts and just be. Let the Spirits see you for what you are. They will not look at your outside stature, they will only see what lies within."

Edward then realized that the color he thought he had seen within the dragons were naught. They were all faintly electric blue with streams of silver for wings. Their eyes were the only feature that gave color. Mahogany on the Brown dragon's, cloudy dark grey were the Storm dragon's, the Gold were those of the molten metal, with no pupil to be seen, the White's were ice blue, almost completely pale, and they stared at Edward with a catlike quality. The Green Dragon's were luxuriously emerald, never seeming to settle on one pattern or another at it inquisitively gazed at the boy.

Edward looked towards Angini again and she nods, gesturing towards the Spirits.

"They wait." She says quietly.

Edward gazed towards the majestic creatures, amazed by their poise and grace. Finally, he exhaled and closed his eyes again, allowing the Spirits to view him for what he was.

He felt the presence of a bright glow behind his eyelids.

"You are valiant, aren't you?" Rumbled a quiet voice. Gentle, but powerful.

"You don't look for praise, though, do you? You want to be alone, you want to unlock the secrets of the world."

"In that case," muttered another consciousness, masculine by the sound, "If he wishes to know the world, he should wish to know me."

Something with the consistency of sand seemed to wash over Edward, making him feel as if he were being sanded gently.

"Or perhaps, Kahn," Whispered a breathy voice, "He should love to see the world from above."

Wind pulsed by Edward's ear. It smelled of flowerbuds and the sky after a rainfall.

"Kancara, you always believe you are solely the keeper of the sky. I can guide him there as well. I can truly show him the power of not only the world or the sky, but of the power of it as well."

Edward felt electrified from his fingers to the tips of his toes as the Grey aura stood before him. The aura drew closer but just as Edward's fingers were about to touch it, another voice, a deep baritone, spoke.

"But it is not only the world which you wish to know, but the life force of the world. The very thing that makes it thrive. Not only the cold unfeeling earth, the sky which whisks you away from your home, or the power which can kill and rule over the world with an iron claw. You wish to see the life of the material realm. You wish to see nature."

Edward turned to see the long dragon step forward of of the haze of consciousness. Despite its odd serpentine appearance, its legs were lithe and it looked as if it could run and glide with the spirits of the trees and animal life.

It seemed to slide across the chasm of the consciousness until it was almost touching noses with Edward.

"I shall accept you, Edward," it said as it bowed, "If only you accept me."

The air was sucked out of Edward's lungs as he stared at the prostrate creature.

Edward extended his hand. No one stopped him.

He touched the dragon.

From Edward's fingertips gleamed an emerald light as the world reformed around him.

The Spirits were gone. Only Angini looked back at Edward, smiling.

Edward looked at his hand.

On his second finger, next to his thumb, was the serpentine form of the green dragon curling around the flesh.

Edward looked up at Angini, brow creased with confusion.

"But, the Marks, why don't I have them? I have a Spirit, where are the three Marks?"

"I am not an elder Edward. I do not have the ability to administer them to you. It is their job and theirs alone." Said Angini carefully.

Edward looked at his hand again and nodded with understanding.

His father's hand closed on his shoulder and began to lead him back towards the entrance. As he was about to leave, Edward felt a weight drop into his satchel. He snapped back to look at Angini, but she only sat there, stroking Archimedes' feathers methodically, as if in thought.

'Keep adventure in your thoughts Edward. I have high hopes in you.'

Angini's voice.

She smiled as Edward left her house.

Just as Edward was about to climb back into the carriage again, the baritone of the Green dragon returned.

'I have neglected to reveal my name. Please forgive me Keeper.'

Edward glanced around the interior of the carriage. The only being with him was his father.

'Angini never mentioned anything like this.' Edward thought, confused.

The voice chuckled at Edward's vague thought.

'I suppose she didn't. After all, you were not initiated by an elder.'

The voice paused for a moment, mulling over his remark.

'In a sense, however, this makes our bond stronger. The symbol on your finger. That is your mark. You can call me to yourself through that mark. I have freedom from being bonded to a Keeper in body and mind, and you can call me at will. As well, you can call for my mental presence at will, without always feeling my thoughts at all times. You can hide your thoughts from me, as I can from you.'

'Sounds like a blessing and a curse, doesn't it?'

'I suppose.'

A lurch from the carriage indicated that Phenix had just urged the horses forward.

'What is your name, Green dragon?'

The dragon seemed to purr as Edward asked his name.

'Thornsager,' said the dragon at last.

'I am Thornsager, Lord of the Forest Realm.'