Chapter 16

Hejinmal brought his tail forward and curled it around to the front of his body. Ludmila waited patiently as his turquoise gaze once again turned inwards as he lightly tapped his claws on the ice.

“Hmm…rather than ‘do’,” he said after coming out of his thoughts, “I believe it is better that you come to an understanding that allows you to arrive at a suitable answer whenever you encounter future problems. Let’s see…for instance, our minds and bodies are very different, yet you appear to be applying your physical standards to ours. That Vampire Bride just now whacked me in the snout – how do you feel about that?”

“It appeared to be corrective in nature,” Ludmila answered, “but it felt extreme, unless it’s a problem that has been ongoing…”

“Oh, no,” he said, “you’re the first Human who has ever come to visit me.”

“Then, yes, I would consider such measures extreme. Ilyshn’ish often sniffs at people and things, so I can only imagine it’s part of how Dragons investigate the world around them.”

Hejinmal seemed to smirk, his eyes turning up in amusement as the tip of his tail twitched back and forth.

“My, how broad-minded of you,” Hejinmal said, “and you are correct about that. However, aren’t you supposed to be instructing my sister in proper Human behaviours? Or do you Humans go around sniffing people the way she does?”

“They don’t,” Ludmila said. “To be honest, there are so many little things about her that I can’t address everything at once.”

“What if I told you that, due to that one whack, I’ll never openly sniff at a Human that comes to my door like that ever again? Well, at least until something convinces me otherwise.”

“I would wonder if you were some sort of pet.”

The Frost Dragon’s tail stopped twitching and lay flat on the icy floor. He unfurled his wings and then folded them again.

“Well, I am Lady Aura’s companion,” Hejinmal said in a tone that was somehow both tentative and assertive at the same time, “but that’s beside the point. Well, maybe – she is the one that advised Lady Shalltear on this method. We Frost Dragons remember everything that we experience, and our behaviour is a combination of instincts and memories derived from those experiences.”

“Aren’t all living things like that?”

“I cannot speak for all living things,” Hejinmal told her, “but you are probably correct. The difference is that Frost Dragons, due to the way our minds function, are subject to a degree of significance that does not exist for, say, a Human. We will not know what fire is until we experience it, and if a fire looks different enough from the fires we have experienced before, we won’t know for sure if it’s a fire or not until we experience enough of its effects to draw a confident conclusion on the matter. If you watch my sister for long enough, you’ll probably see her do some pretty silly things in your estimation, but this is how we learn.”

Ludmila glanced at the tops of the wooden bookshelves peeking over Hejinmal’s back.

“What about all of this reading that you do?” She asked, “You seem to have gained a measure of knowledge through them.”

“Reading is a difficult way for us to learn,” Hejinmal told her, “and what we commit to memory is, hm…hollow until we have experiences to associate with it. We’ve lived in the Azerlisia Mountains for our entire lives, so everything we understand is in relation to what we learned from our homes. This just so happened to make learning Dwarven knowledge easier, as we lived in a city that they once inhabited. We could go around referencing many of the things that we read about. Going back to the fire example, even though we had read about it in Dwarven texts, we did not know what it was until Ilyshn’ish ordered one of the Quagoa to bring us several samples. Having upwards of a century to study also helps – it took us a long time to learn what we have so far.”

“But you remember everything, yes?” Ludmila said, “Lady Shalltear considers this a great advantage over the passage of time.”

“She should have the right of it,” Hejinmal replied. “Building our web of understanding quickly requires the requisite experiences, but we’re tough enough to shrug off any punishment that comes with what amounts to regular life. For instance, a Vampire Bride hitting the average Human in this city as hard as she did would have probably killed them, but it did nothing to me. I didn’t even particularly care that she hit me, beyond it serving as a way to remind me about a certain behaviour in a specific circumstance.”

“Are you saying that I should beat your sister every time I need to correct her over something?” Ludmila frowned, “Doing that in public would be absolutely improper.”

“Then you’ll have to devise some other method to leave a clear impression,” Hejinmal shrugged. “I will beg you to be kind to her, however.”

“By Frost Dragon standards, I assume.”

“Of course. It would be to your benefit as well. As to why, hmm…I believe you mentioned something about her stopping in front of some building?”

“The Magician Guild, yes,” Ludmila said. “She inexplicably stopped, then she didn’t want to explain why. I later learned that she was reported for attempting to sell her eggs and arrested.”

Hejinmal slowly nodded with a sad expression. Was it really that bad? It was certainly a poor experience, followed by what Ludmila considered to be an unjust application of the law, but both Hejinmal and Ilyshn’ish made it seem like a crippling event.

“The reason she stopped was because she identifies the Magician Guild as a place where something bad has happened to her in the past,” Hejinmal told her. “Something that she has no power to address. Since she cannot fight the authorities of the Sorcerous Kingdom, she will forever avoid that building. Coming close to the building or asking why she doesn’t like the place only forces her to relive the entire experience that she associates with it, which she remembers perfectly. Every emotion, every stare, the angle of every shadow running over every bump and crack in the street – everything in perfect clarity, with the not-insignificant sensory ability of a Frost Dragon.”

“That sounds horrible.”

“More than you know,” Hejinmal said, “and less than you think. The reason why we remain subject to the Sorcerer King is because he instantly killed our patriarch right in front of us, then killed one of the stronger members of the second generation of our brood in front of everyone who missed the death of our father. We have a degree of tolerance against such memories, and we don’t particularly care for things like vengeance on the behalf of others, but the fact remains that we will always remember.”

The Frost Dragon gave her a long look, then his gaze turned inwards again. His head tilted from one side to another, as if he was weighing something in his mind. A minute passed in silence before he seemed to settle his thoughts.

“If your goal is to earn my sister’s trust,” he told her, “then she must understand that you can be trusted. Forget about whether she is right or wrong: focus on her experiences with you instead. You will always have opportunities to correct her in the future, and, with her growing trust, she will become more receptive to you.”

“Are you sure you should be telling me this?” Ludmila furrowed her brow, “It sounds like some deep secret about your race that you shouldn’t let out.”

“Er…don’t tell her that I told you,” Hejinmal glanced at the door. “I probably won’t live for long after that. The reason I’m telling you this is because we cannot deny Lady Shalltear’s whims, so I would at least like to make things as painless as possible for my little sister.”

“It really doesn’t sound like she cares as much for you as you do for her.”

“Oh, she does, I assure you. Ilyshn’ish spoiled me rotten at one point because she worried over whether predators would get me if I tried to go out and hunt. She brought food to my room for over seven decades, until I became more rotund than what you see before you right now. All the while, she would poke and prod at me to improve myself or do something about my health and dulled instincts. After we moved here, she started earning money while we were still all slaving away and she shared her books with me. Not even our mother cared for me so much. Ilyshn’ish always does what she does under some pretence, of course, but her true motives can be easily discerned once you’ve known her for a while.”

Hejinmal shifted from where he was lying down, placing a claw on a small object and pushing it forward. It appeared to be a gold trade coin.

“Just a few days ago,” he said, “she came over to visit and saw this lying on the ground. Dragons are naturally covetous beings by Human standards – myself included – but there was no sense of her desire for this gold coin for the entire visit. She only wept for me out of pity. I’ve known her for over a century, and this is what she’s always been like. To be certain, she is a Frost Dragon and what that entails will always have some influence over her, but she is already greater than her base nature. Just keep in mind that, while she may be able to take the appearance of a Human, the most you can ever achieve is having her act like one.”

He drew the gold coin back under himself again and turned his snout towards Ludmila with a questioning look.

“Was this information satisfactory, Baroness Zahradnik?”

Ludmila rose from her chair, dusting the frost off of her mantle. She couldn’t be certain that what he said was true, but Hejinmal seemed to be genuine, at least. What he had offered gave her much to think about.

“You’ve been very helpful,” she said with a smile. “Thank you, Hejinmal.”

“I-it’s not a problem at all,” he replied, then lowered his head. “Please take good care of my little sister, Baroness Zahradnik.”

“She is my vassal now,” Ludmila said. “I will do everything within my power to make sure she thrives under me.”

As she reached out for the handle of the ice-coated door, Ludmila turned to look up at Hejinmal again.

“I’m curious,” she said, “how do you personally feel about being Lady Aura’s companion?”

“Hm…that’s a complicated question,” Hejinmal replied. “Due to how it happened, I must content myself with it, but it’s not too bad overall. Lady Aura is stern, but not cruel, and I receive a great variety of benefits from her. Since Lady Shalltear has decided that you are to be Ilyshn’ish’s mistress, I can only hope that the initial experience is not so traumatic for her.”

“And how would Ilyshn’ish feel?”

Hejinmal let out a short laugh at her question.

“Incensed, outwardly,” he said. “After experiencing the bond between Lady Aura and myself, I can only say that how she would truly feel depends entirely on what goes on between the two of you…actually, I believe I’ve finally figured out what I actually wanted to say.”

“What about everything you’ve mentioned so far?” Ludmila turned back around with a furrowed brow.

“Oh, that still counts, of course,” Hejinmal said. “I suppose you might consider my belated realization a product of the Draconic condition. As we age, we grow not only in size and strength, but in intellect, wisdom, and force of personality. Frost Dragons are peerless predators, but we’re unfortunately not known for our mental capabilities. To be frank, the average Frost Dragon is about as dumb as it gets for Dragonkind.”

“I’ve only personally spoken to you and your sister, but you both seem intelligent enough to me.”

“Well, that goes back to the fact that we’re both intellectuals…and we’re both ‘deviants’ in the ways I’ve described before. As Wyrmlings, the average Frost Dragon is about as smart as an average Magical Beast, or perhaps a very cunning predator. As an Adult, you might say that we’re only as intelligent as an average Human. Everything about us – our minds, bodies, spellcasting ability and other mystical powers – only reaches its pinnacle when we finish maturing. It is difficult to make any parallels, as well. For myself, it means that my mind meanders through everything I know, so I can be a bit slow sometimes. By contrast, my father was extremely quick when it came to what he knew, but it also made him quick in certain unfortunate ways, such as making an unwise assumption of his superiority against the Sorcerer King.”

It sounded like she would have to be careful to ensure Ilyshn’ish understood as much as possible in order to avoid such errors. She would also need to stay up to date with changes to law and policy as well, else she would act with complete confidence under obsolete ones. The mental workings of Frost Dragons felt both amazing and inconvenient at the same time.

“I will keep that in mind,” she told Hejinmal. “Now, what was it that you wanted to say?”

“…what I wanted to say?” The ridges of his brows came together, “Oh, that.”

Hejinmal’s head snaked forward, and his glowing turquoise eyes loomed close.

“It is about the way to earn my sister’s trust,” he said. “I don’t think I put it across in the best way, after considering your mortal existence. Frost Dragons are immortal, as you might know, thus what we naturally place our trust in is…different, in a way.”

“Go on…”

“Frost Dragons place our trust in constants,” Hejinmal told her. “If construed poorly, one might say we believe in nature: that living things will behave in the ways that they must, and that the world works according to certain principles. For instance, it is not as if Ilyshn’ish wouldn’t feel anything if she was to kill our father, but, at the same time, she would know that doing so is right. It is untenable for those that soar at the pinnacle of power to remain there if there is someone stronger: this is an unhealthy, stagnant state for a people to remain in – one that invites disaster if left unaddressed.

“At the same time, our father would never submit without contest, and that contest would be to the death unless a foe was demonstrated to be overwhelmingly powerful, which Ilyshn’ish would most likely not be at the point she decided to challenge him. While there should certainly be some selfish motives in there, it is also understood that it is for the long term health of our species. This sort of logic should be understandable for you, I believe, and it also applies for things beyond ‘natural law’ and the apparent absolutes that you frame our world in.”

“If considered in a certain way, yes,” Ludmila said, “many races could be said to think in these terms.”

“Good,” Hejinmal said with a satisfied nod. “You do not understand the extent of it, but you understand some of it, which should be good enough to take your first steps towards your goal. What you must do is both simple and complex at the same time: you must become a ‘constant’ to Ilyshn’ish – a singular point in this entire world that a being with an immortal lifespan can trust to remain within the bounds of the expectations cultivated through your relationship. I’m uncertain if this can be achieved, as Human lifespans are so short, but it’s the best advice I can offer to you.”

Lady Shalltear’s brief mention of immortality being bequeathed to the Sorcerous Kingdom’s most valued subjects crossed Ludmila’s mind. She hadn’t brought it up again, but it had only been a bit over a month since that discussion. Would Ilyshn’ish trust her more if she knew that Ludmila would be with her forever? Was being a mortal an obstacle to developing trust? Perhaps Ilyshn’ish considered her unworthy of such investment.

“What does being a ‘constant’ mean, in this case?”

“It is whatever you make of it,” Hejinmal shrugged. “You appear to desire a more mutually beneficial arrangement rather than a domineering or exploitative one, so you’ll just have to go in that direction. That’s very nice of you, by the way…or did I read you wrong?”

“No, you’re right,” Ludmila replied. “I did want to be something like her companion or friend in addition to my position as her mentor and liege. I’m just not sure what this entails for her.”

“It’s something she’s never had before,” Hejinmal said, “so I have no idea…and neither does she.”