"Can't you buy a new one? It's really battered… It stinks."
I didn't answer Lioren, even though he was right. Time had dried the leather cover, darkened it. It still stank of the girl's blood. How was I supposed to wash it?
"Don't your parents give you an allowance?" he asked, snapping his fingers to get my attention.
I answered with a small shake of my head while I tried to write in yesterday's entry. I didn't even know what an allowance was before I arrived here.
After a few seconds of silence, Lioren blurted out: "Do you still have a tongue, or did you feed it to the dogs?"
I looked him in the eyes and saw frustration clinging to the edges. No one had shown up to his birthday. He had invited an amount of people I didn't think was even possible.
Only I came.
He broke the silence again. "Anyway, thanks for the gift and for coming."
"Mom" had forced me to go around the shops to find something suitable. What could I possibly give Lioren? I didn't know him. I don't even know them.
The Chief would have liked a good book about some poisonous animal. He risked his life in every experiment.
We went into a shop that sold office goods. It fascinated me. I got him a "pen", that's what they called it.
They've told me more than once that I use an "archaic" way of writing. It's the only one I know.
"Today they're supposed to do a parade in town," I whispered. "I heard it this morning at the table."
"Are we going to taste something?" he drooled, lit up by the news.
Nelvarya, a town of gluttons, I thought. I nodded yet again and we left.
My carriage had stopped right here. Nelvarya's square was where I was adopted.
I mistook it for a castle. I had never seen a monument that big.
In the following days, I asked "Dad" what it was, and he explained it was the building of the Lornavel Guild. He said it was made up of five buildings called petals, because of their shape, separate but connected to each other.
Five, like the houses that run the town.
"But isn't that your family's crest?" I said to Lioren, looking at one of the stalls.
"What?" he replied.
"Aren't you supposed to be working?" I asked.
"Uh… I should be, but today it's my birthday and I took the day off. And besides, don't you smell something new?" he answered, winking.
He was probably talking about some spice stall with foreign scents. It wasn't just hunger for him, it was real joy.
He was right: it wasn't the usual celebration or parade in the King's name. Something was moving.
Usually the Guild men wore a uniform similar to our school uniform, at least in color and fabric, with differences based on which house they served or their role… more embroidery meant more power. It felt like a system made for peacocks.
Of course I lost Lioren. The image of a "peacocked-up man" took over my hand and ended up on the diary page. Drawing is definitely not my gift, but the Chief cared a lot about documenting and recognizing different species.
drums
The sound managed to pull my hand away from the paper.
"Come!" a man shouted from the road. "Come see it, a rare piece!" People began to form two lines in the square, from the road all the way to the Guild entrances. Now I could see the man on horseback yelling more clearly. The Chief always teased me about my size…
"Straight from its mouth, come, come!" he continued.
The square was used to hosting a lot of people, but someone definitely wasn't from here. Many must have traveled when the news spread.
A woman hit me with her shoulder to push through. She must have been there for a while and I hadn't noticed her. A dwarf, judging by her physical traits, wearing a white robe with pale light-blue details and simple but elegant checkered embroidery.
After her I noticed several dressed the same way. They all seemed in a hurry.
"The massive snow dragon, an entity long gone from our time, come see it, quickly!" the finch kept shrieking.
Fear prickled. The Chief told me stories about dragons, but they were only stories, weren't they?
The "finch" was followed in a spearhead formation by mercenaries and mages on horseback, with a carriage in the center. Through the crowd's confused murmurs, I caught a fragment of truth: the Guild had sent a team to track the cause of a village's destruction. I thought immediately of mine, but dragons… that day, I saw none.
I was very curious. I pushed forward to grab a place in the front rows. I didn't manage, but I did see the much-praised fang: big, yes, but the ancient dragons the Chief described had bigger.
"The white dragon is the cause of the village's destruction!" the man yelled, before catching his breath and giving his throat a break. I know what oil I'd prepare for the pain he'll have tonight… I miss the lab.
"I… I really lost you," I heard behind me.
"Did you see the beast?" Lioren said after swallowing a mouthful.
"Don't wipe your face on yourself," I said, stopping him from ruining his white jacket, made of a fabric I wouldn't even know how to value.
"There's no beast, only a tooth, apparently," I huffed.
"It should still be worth a lot," he said with conviction, and started talking about how one day he'd become a famous Tramite.
"Sure, sure, and one day you'll marry a princess and become king. I swear I know this story," I cut him off.
"Yes, Varogan, and you'll be at my side," he declared with enough conviction to embarrass me.
I realized there was no sign of a real dragon, just like everyone else who drifted away after seeing the tooth. Lioren kept monologuing about his future as a Tramite, and in me a need was born: to understand why everyone was so determined to become one of them.
The Chief always told me the truth was only found in books.
So I went to the library.