Lost Legacy
Lord Bartimaeus's Quest
Roy stared up at Serin still. "One hundred and... thirty... five...?" he asked weakly, clutching his now overgrown clothes around him. Serin noddedand sat down across from him, a bundle in his arms.
"Yes. One hundred and thirty-five. You, by Ameranian standards, are still a child. The equivalent of a ten year old in the previous world." He tossed the bundle to Roy, who caught it. "Those are clothes; go sneak off somewhere and put them on. There's a body of water to our left, just go in that direction. Just don't stray off too far, you don't know who's hungry dragon you might run into. If you're terribly unlucky, you'll run into Elissa."
Roy didn't think he wanted to run into anything, dragon or no. Dragon? What the hell?
He grabbed his oversized clothes and ran off in the general lefterly direction, making sure he was decently covered as he scampered away with the bundle. He wondered who Elissa was... was she a man-eating cannibal? And what was all this thick forest...? It was getting on his nerves. At least it wasn't tropical. It was cool and shady, unlike most of the forests he'd seen, and there seemed to be a lack of buildings. Either this was a very elaborate movie set, or he had indeed been transported to another part of the universe. On a lighter note, his eye was back. He rubbed at it gratefully, glad not to look like a ten year old with a missing eye; he didn't think anything could be more unnerving than that. He looked back to the clearing, but found he couldn't see it anymore, and kept walking and dragging his clothes so they wouldn't slip off his waist. Serin hadn't had one eye either, maybe he should ask him how he lost it... maybe... it was a dragon. Roy sniggered at the thought. Dragon. What kind of sap did the guy think he-
A bright pink cat like monster hurled itself out of the underbrush, screaming and yowling its head off, it's claws flailing and tail swishing. Roy screeched and threw himself backwards, and the cat monster, which was probably only was high as his now much-shortened knee or less, stood its ground and clawed the air at him. It spat and hissed, then flicked its tail once and retreatedback to its tree. It slipped into the hole and a burst of mewling chorused; three little kittens, two bright pink and one blue, whined and mewed. He breathed hard and sidled around away from the tree and towards the water, which was now in view.
"God, it's so... ugh... even my voice is squeaky again!" he howled, displeased to discover other changes in himself. This was terrible; he was a ten year old with a thirty year old mind, how worse could anything possibly get? He threw off his uniform and his work-shirt, both now overly large, as well as his oversized pair of pants and his... boxers. God. He pulled a red tunic out of the bundle Serin had given him and wriggled into it, then stared distastefully at the loincloth thing in the bag. "I'm supposed to wear that?" he grumbled, pulling them on. He searched inside of the cloth bag again and drew out a pair of cotton trousers, which weren't so bad, he guessed, then pulled a pair of leather boots onto his feet as well as some leather gloves onto his hands.
He peeked at himself in the water and thought he looked a bit grimy reflected in the clear blue, and started to wash his face in it. While scrubbing his face, he began to notice something out of place, strange... he stuck his head under the water to try to wet his hair and opened his eyes, and his mouth opened up to scream, bubbled shooting out of his mouth as his face collided with a gigantic scaly snout.
His head shot back into his shoulders and he fell onto his back, gasping and panting, then rolled onto his knees and crawled as fast as he could to Serin, who had just arrived in the trees. Serin laughed and patted Roy's head, then stroked his own scarred eye as if thinking of something, and thinking deeply. A giant silver head reared out of the water and Serin laughed again, then looked down at Roy.
"Here, I'll show you how it's done." He ran to the water and jumped, his arms grabbing onto the long neck that arched over the water and sliding down to meet the massive body that it connected to. Giant wings flapped out of the water and shone and glistened blue, and the monster launched itself out of the water with a small flap and descended onto dry ground again, it's claws gouging holes into the ground; they were the size of Roy forearm! Roy goggled at the two of them and Serin settled himself on the monster's shoulder blades, then patted the neck fondly. "Oh, don't be scared... this is Elissa, my dragon partner. She won't bite... if you don't bother her." The dragon, Elissa, snorted briefly and directed an annoyed and tired glance at Serin, and rolled her eyes. Plumes of fire issued from her snout when she snorted and her great tail, the same length as her body, twitched at the end. Her mouth seemed to quirk up into a smile at the corners and she snorted again, and this time, Serin frowned.
"I am not pig-headed. I resent that." He said crossly, and the dragon leaned her weight into one her haunches and examined a claw critically, like a woman checking newly polished nails. Serin scowled. "Well you're just stubborn, you big sack of scales." What was this man doing, talking to his dragon? Roy ventured closer to the dragon, careful not to trip on any newly upturned earth, and Elissa flicked her tail, amused, then wrapped it around Roy's body and lifted him into the air near her head to scrutinize him. Roy yelped on the way up and covered his face with his arms.
"Don't eat me!"
Elissa turned her head and snorted again, this one somewhat pained, and rolled her eye at Serin again. "She says that she won't eat you; she wouldn't eat you anyway, because you don't look very appetizing. She says she'd much rather eat me than you, and if she eats me I promise to give you severe indigestion, Elissa." He started to address the dragon in midsentence as if it were the most normal thing in the world, and the dragon stuck out her tongue at him, then plopped Roy onto Serin's shoulders. Serin looked at him apologetically.
"I had a saddle, but I left itin Tonia."
"Where?"
"My new hometown... I've got to relax sometime. "
Elissa directed a glance at Roy anda voice popped into his head somewhat eerily. He doesn't relax even when he has a choice to. He's a insatiable workaholic; I'd go so far as to say he's sometimes a pain to work with.
Serin must have heard his dragon as well, because he crossed his arms and frowned. "You can whine and complain all you want, but we were destined to work together.
A perfect team... Elissa sighed in Roy's head. Maybe too perfect. He can also be a pain in the-
"Anyway," Serin cut in sharply, getting a small Roy off of his shoulders and seating him in front of him, "I was planning to pass over Figaro, then head to Tonia for a restbreak. Then perhaps we could pay a visit to Leo in Amadacyan. Maybe." Elissa's tail flicked again and Serin added, "We'll have to take it slow, Elissa, Roy is new at flying."
Oh really? I've not seen many people who've never flown before. What chances you've missed, tut tut. I shall oblige and fly with caution and care.
"Did I hear sarcasm, Elissa?"
Truthfully, yes. I despise flying slowly and cautiously, especially with care. I'm trying to make you fall you see, just so I can see your face when you do, Serin.
"Oh, ha ha, great. If I fall, you're coming with me."
How so?
"I'll increase the gravity pull on you and you'll fall like a sack of stones."
Fine fine, a truce then. We like to poke fun at one another, though sometimes this pig-headed idiot takes everything I say seriously.
Serin decided it best not to comment on the 'pig-headed idiot' bit, and advised Roy to hold on tight and puke on Elissa if he absolutely had to, to which Elissa replied that it would be beneficial to puke on Serin instead. Roy held his head and groaned. Voices in his head. He looked up as Elissa flapped her great wings and they lifted upwards into the sky, but he couldn't say that he was affected by the sudden vertigo. Thank God.
He looked up at Serin. "So where's Figaro? And, what is it?"
"Well, Figaro is a mountain kingdom ruled by a ninja community; quite a peculiar bunch, but they're very likable. That's as long as you don't insult their honor, which means no talking down your nose at them, no talking back to them, no sudden movements, and absolutely no nose blowing. None. Leo and I found that out the hard way on our first expedition to Figaro."
Yes, it was hilarious seeing the two of them strung up on sticks like freshly slaughtered cow and stuck into mountain to wait out the night while surrounded by wolves and man-eating birds. They weren't much more than boys then, possibly no older than you, and Serin whimpered like a baby.
"I did not."
Yes you did. Of course, the Figaroans untied them later on the grounds that they apologize for Leo's noseblowing; poor thing had been taken sick for the five days before, and he just went and fainted in the middle of them right there. I suspect the cold weather didn't do him much good on that stick. Nursed him back to health, locked up Serin ina very remote cell - he was being uncooperative, you see- and let them both free.
"So where were you the entire time?" Roy asked, and Elissa snorted.
I was chatting with Leo's dragon Rhona; we both decided that they deserved what they got, but if the Figaroans tried to kill them... well... we'd step in. Ahhh, the times we had...
"So there are lots of dragons, then?" he asked her, and she nodded her head as Serin watched mountains seem to suddenly materialize in the landscape; flying could be quite disorienting sometimes.
Yes, many many dragons. We like peace, however, and rarely do many of us have reason to start a fight. Serin and I, as he put it, were destined to be together. Dragons remain dormant in their eggs until there is a stimulus, or if the baby dragon just gets too bored in that shell. It's positively dull in there, but then this fool comes along and touches the egg, and I somehow get the urge to break free.
"So you can... choose to be born whenever you want?" Roy queried.
Of a shape and fashion, yes. I was most fortunate among dragons; I have the prettiest blue scales...
"She can be quite vain sometimes, polishing her scales like there's no tommorow..." Serin grumbled, and Elissa regarded him coldly.
One never knows when an elligible male will come along. Don't pretend you've never preened yourself around women, I remember all those instances. Besides, why look like you've just come out of a meat-grinder when you can be shining like the sea?
"One," Serin said through his teeth, "Because I don't shine like the sea. Unfortunately, I happen to be composed of lackluster skin tissue and buildups of dying cells, thank you very much. I don't have the added luxury of scales. And just because you haven't found a male dragon doesn't mean you can give me grief. It's not my fault."
Elissa inhaled quickly, miffed, and started to spiral downwards, her large green eyes focused on a castle below. Several men in black garb pointed upwards and called towards the castle, then ran away to give landing space to the dragon and her riders. Elissa landed rather bumpily and her scales chafed Roy's cotton trousers slightly, but not enough to tear them, thankfully. Serin held Roy under his arms and hopped off of Elissa with him, and Elissa stretched luxuriously.
What did we come here for?
"Well, I was planning to pick up supplies. King Bartimaeus is generous in giving supplies."
I suppose seeing two Dragon Riders whimpering and writhing while tied to a pair of sticks made him permanantly jovial.
Serin ground his teeth. "I wish it had done the same for you!"
Oh, have no doubt, it did, my dear Serin. I'll never let you live it down.
"I doubt you'll let me die it down, either." Elissa folded her wings against her body and followed Serin into the castle at a slow amble; it didn't take too much energy to follow her rider, and the door and halls were big enough to allow her comfortable passage to the throne room. King Bartimaeus was seated on his throne, his legs crossed, his foot lolling in an almostagitated fashion, but it's movement ceased at Serin's entrance. He was about Serin's age, maybe a bit older, and had white shining hair, cut short, that did not seem to be the after-effects of old age, but natural. He was a thin, almost wiry man, dressed in a tight body fitting shirt and a half vest that stopped just above his torso. His pants weren't adorned, but seemed oddly plain for a reigning monarch, and he wore sparsely decorated calf guards that ended above his ankle, and his feet were sandaled. His hands were gauntleted in black, with fingertips exposed, and a scarf hung around his mouth,a headband across his forehead, letting six long strands of his hair fall in front of his face. Both ears were pierced, his left with two piercings, his right with one, symbolic of his status in the Figaroan hierarchy.
Roy remembered not to blow his nose.
Bartimaeus's eyes were gray and clear, but seemed slightly shadowed, like a deep sadness hung over his person, a sadness that hung like a weight on his shoulders.
"Serin, it's good to see you again. It has been quite a while since you were last here in Figaro." He inclined his head in acknowledgement of Serin's status as a Dragon Rider, and Serin bowed at the waist. Roy looked at him and did the same, and Elissa also inclined her head.
"Ah, noble Elissa, it is good to see that you are well..."
"You seem troubled, Lord Bartimaeus? Surely life here must be splendid, living untroubled in the mountains as you are. Your people appear satisfied and happy, your ninjas well trained, you are in good health. Are the queen and the princes of good health?"
"But that is exactly my problem, Serin of Balian... there are no princes. My wife weeps and wails in her chambers as she has done for the past many years, and even I find it difficult to restrain my own anguish; many times have we tried to console one another, to no avail. My sons are gone, disappeared from this kingdom by force for thirty-nine years, and it is the misfortune that you have not returned for thiry-nine years, or I would have asked your help sooner. My ninjas have searched and searched, but they are tired of looking for something that may no longer exist... but now I implore you, Serin, to help me, if they are still alive, to locate my sons."
Roy was stunned. Kidnapped for thirty-nine years and not a trace left that even ninjas could follow? He computed in his head quickly. For every three Ameran years was one Amestran year, so then... these princes were missing for thirteen years! "But... how could we know if they're alive or not? If you couldn't find them in thirtee- I mean, thirty-nine years, how can Serin find them now?"
Bartimaeus sank onto his throne, his face in his hands. "I don't know, young one, but... Serin and Elissa's exploits are not un-famous, though it might be that many songs woven about them are untrue... I know first hand their reliability, but if... you think the task is impossible, Serin... then I will understand if you refuse to undertake it."
"That won't be necessary, Lord Bartimaeus. Could I possibly speak with the Queen?"
Bartimaeus stood again. "Yes, of course... it might bea minute." He made several complicated hand gestures and Roy wondered what on earth he was doing. Bartimaeus turned and his hands gestured towards the second throne. Then Roy could hear a voice speaking, though Serin and Elissa seemed unaware of it.
"Y-Yes...? Bartimaeus?" The voice seemed weak and strained, but definintely feminine.
"Angela... Serin of Balian wishes to speak with you concerning the disappearances of Blade and Edge..."
"Yes, yes... I'll be right there... Bartimaeus."
"Take your time," he said softly. "There's no rush." He didn't seem to want her to become overwraught.
In time the queen made it down to the throne room. She was as tall as Bartimaeus, but had the appearance of being somewhat younger than him. Her hair was long and tied into a tight braid that almost touched the floor behind her, and her hair was, Roy thought with a jolt, the most startling shade of blue. Her eyes were a light brown, nothing abnormal there, and her face was round and pretty, bordering on girlish, but her cheeks were stained with tears. Her clothes were also black, but more often there were slashes of red in the long black dress she was wearing. She seemed to have more decoration on her clothes than Bartimaeus, but still dressed rather humbly, her neck sporting only two gold necklaces and her left handa single ring on her ring finger. The dress was slit up to the thigh, but underneath it were close fitting pants that joined into a pair of calf bracers at her calves, which were much more adorned than Bartimaeus's, and a silver anklet hung at her ankle, her feet also sandled.
She passed them to stand next to Bartimaeus, and his head tilted at her, concerned. She shook her head slightly and his head turned back to Serin, his arms folded over his chest.
"You wanted to question me about our sons?" she asked, and Serin nodded, offering her a bow at the waist.
"Yes. Did you witness their kidnapping?"
"No... I did not. I only heard them cry out for Bartimaeus and I, and then they were gone."
"Surely you must have seen how the kidnappers departed?"
"On airships, and at that time we were not in possession of any, nor were our Dragon Riders present."
"Where are they now?"
"Gathering herbs and collecting wood from the mountains; it looks to be a harsh winter this year."
"I see... and how old were the princes?"
"Blade was just a month short of his eighteenth year, Edge was not even two-" she started to tear up and covered her face in her hands, and Bartimaeus put his arm around her shoulder comfortingly.
"So... very young indeed... they would be fifty-seven and thirty-nine respectively."
Bartimaeus nodded sadly and his wife let out another despairing wail.
"This is all the information I'll need, I think. I hope to be back soon with news."
"Thank you, Serin." Serin departed from the castle and Roy jogged after him. While they had been talking, he had started to realize something rather disturbing... he was beginning to forget things!
"Serin!" he said urgently, and Serin looked down at him. "I can't remember things! I'm losing my memory!"
"Not losing it. Your mind is suppressing information it is not ready to contain, and in time you will be left with the mind capacity of a typical ten year old."
"But I'm thirty, I'm a man! I don't want to lose it!"
"It will come back in time, when you come of age perhaps, but those memories will resurface when the time arises, when your mind and body are ready for the impact of those memories. One day soon you will wake up and not remember a thing from your previous life in Amestris, and similarly you will wake up years from now and remember everything from the thirty years that you lived there. In Ameran, those are memories that you do not need."
"They'll come back?"
"In time."
"But..." he decided that there was no use arguing with it. He sighed deeply. He might as well start thinking of Ameran as his new home. "So how will we find those princes? They're probably dead by now!"
"Well, if they're concealed among the general public it won't be so hard, since Bartimaeus's features are quite... unique. His hair color, for example, is a dead giveaway. There are very few people who have a white hair color."
"But there are some, meaning if there are few, there could be thousands or millions."
"True. You saw their parents. Two youths with that same combination of facial characteristics will be few and far between."
"And if they're not in the general public?"
"Then we can expect pirates or slavery. Considering that the method of escape was airship, I'm leaning towards the latter. You noticed, I am sure, that the princes are quite old now? One, Blade, is your equivalent of the ninteenth year, and the younger, Edge, is in his thirteenth. It would be simpler to find Blade, for he still holds some memories of his home in Figaro and would alert us to his prescence, another thing that makes me lean towards slavery. He certainly would have found a way to come home by now if he was smuggled in among the townspeople.
"Finding Edge would be difficult. He was not much more than a baby and doesn't have any recollection of Figaro, so unless he's with Blade and enslaved, it would be... a chore to find him."
"So there's still slavery, then?"
"Not as a whole, but there are still some of the... less noble who use slaves. Dragon Riders try to crack down on it in their respective kingdoms." He just had an idea, and he looked towards Elissa. "Elissa, you're savvy with most of the other Dragons, do you know any sector that hasn't had a Dragon Rider in the space of... oh, let's say fifty years?"
There are quite a few. Three to be exact. There is Tetro, the desert kingdom in the south, Narim in the east and... Balian.
"But I thought Serin was the Dragon Rider for Balian?" Roy asked, and Serin shook his head sadly.
"No... I am the Dragon Rider of the kingdom of Balian, but Balian... Balian is dead."