Posted in Posted by Mark Twain

Here's the story I said I'd write.  Tell me whatcha think!

Proof of a King: Chapter One: Part One

      The sun was just rising over the forest of Rothneir, and Ozarth the dragon was skimming over the treetops, his wings fanning the trees and frightening the birds in their nests. The dragon’s green scales glistened in the sunlight, and his piercing black eyes scanned the forest floor in search of a morsel for breakfast.

      Not an animal came in sight, and he considered eating a bird, but decided against it because the feathers tickled his insides. 

      Suddenly he saw a glint of gold behind a bush, and as quick as lightning he pounced on it. The object didn’t stir in his claws, so he released his grip. To his great astonishment he saw it was a long golden box.

      The dragon cocked his head to one side. Dragons weren’t very intelligent, but he knew enough to realize that this wasn’t an ordinary box. After thinking a while (if you could call it thinking) he decided to take it back to his master Raver, dragon-keeper of Iseth. Gathering his legs under him he leapt over the trees, and holding tightly to the box, he flew in the direction of the dragon stables.

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      "Here we go, Bronn ol’ boy," said Raver as he rubbed salve in the deep gash on his oldest dragon’s leg, "That was a nasty cut that troll gave ya’."

      Raver stood and wiped his hands on his thick leather apron that he wore over his white cotton shirt and muddy brown pants. He put a bandage over the gash on the dragon’s left hind leg.

      "Go on to your stall now, that leg should heal pretty soon."

      The stable that the dragons lived in was rather large, (because the dragons were large) made out of sturdy oak.

      Raver slept in the stable also. He had to, because he had been appointed as the Official Dragon-master of Iseth. He was hoping someday to train his newborn son, Zorlin, so that one day he would take his place.

      "I could use a good cup of cider and a hot meal," he said. One by one, he made his way past the stalls ( their were thirty on each side) to make sure all the dragons were in their place. As he drew nearer to the last stall, on the left side of the stable, he noticed that Ozarth ( I’ve already told you about him) wasn’t in his stall.

      Raver rolled his eyes. "That dragon," he mumbled to himself, "Always being late. Why, this is the eighth time this month he  hasn’t been on time!"

      He slumped into a stool nearby to wait for the dragon. If a dragon was late, he had to wait for it. That was his duty, to see that the dragons were there on time. If they weren’t there on a specific time, Raver had to go out and look for them

      Raver gazed up at a fixed spot on the roof. He was starting to get worried about Ozarth. He remembered a dragon that did not come back a few years ago. He went out to look for him, and, finally, after a few hours, he found the carcass of the dragon laying on the forest floor, next to a trolls’ cave. What was worst, this was his best dragon.

      All these thoughts flashed through Raver’s mind. He never forgave himself for the loss of that dragons life. And he would not let this sort of thing happen to Ozarth, or any of the dragons. So he jumped, readied himself, and just as he sheathed his sword in his old leather scabbard he heard a loud thump and a snort.

      A flood of relief swept over Raver. "This is the eighth time you’ve been late. Now get into your stall this minute or I’ll. . ."

      He stopped short when he saw the long golden box Ozarth held in his front paws. "Great heavens!" he exclaimed, "What did ya’ bring back now?"

      Ozarth set the box down at Raver’s feet. Raver stooped down and picked up the box.

      "Well I do declare," he said. "In all my life I have never seen such a beauty."

      Raver examined the box closer. He set it down and scooted it to the window to where he could get a look. He said. Then, looking very closely, he saw a strange inscription. It went along the rim of the box. Raver couldn’t read the message.

      "If I’m right, this inscription looks very much like it could be Old Astrean. The only thing I recognize is that symbol." He was looking at a sign at the corner of the box.

      It looked very much like the sun with wings. Raver didn’t want other people to know about the box because it might be very valuable. He quickly took it up to the loft and hid it under some straw. He sat down and thought about the strange letters he saw on it. Who would know how to read them?

      Then a thought struck him. "The Dwarves!" he said out loud.

      The Dwarves were the only ones who believed in the old Astreans. Why not go to the dwarf Amandil? He was the oldest among the dwarfs, and the wisest. So raver decided to go to Amandil. He climbed down the stairs and went through the door to find the old dwarf.