Lore: The Silver King
I am having a pretty bad bout of writer’s block so… Here’s some rather relevant lore and world-building… Disguised as a slice-of-life short story lolol..
We’re following Morg the Dragonologist as she tours the town at the base of the mountains. She enters a coffee shop—Cannilou Face—which is well known for its breakfasts. The crepes, especially. Morg is looking forward to trying the Cannilou Breakfast Crepes…
But more than that, she had heard that the couple who run the shop are rather knowledgeable when it comes to gossip about the Silver dragons. She is hoping to learn more, before they ascend the mountains into Silver territory.
This post focuses purely on dialogue. Because that’s how my brain works when it’s blocked, apparently.
Alright, here’s your coffee, my dear. Is there anything else I can get for you?
…
An Ancient? Do you mean one of those pre-war Elders? What a curious question to be asking so early in the morning… Although.. —Ah! You’re the Dragonologist aren’t you?
Well, I’ll be most happy to assist you, but all we have are rumours and I don’t want to mislead you. I’ve never actually seen an Ancient dragon flying about up there, and neither has any one of us—shh! Here comes my husband. Don’t let him hear you talking about the Silvers, or you will never hear the end of his boasting.
Who’s this, Sivvy my love?
You take your coffee and go back to your corner. I don’t know why I tolerate you bumbling around me and my customers the entire day. Really!
—Ooh, I’m sorry, Lady Dragonologist. It’s just too early in the morning for me.
…
You don’t mind him as company? Are you sure?
Morg the Dragonologist! Ha-ha! I must say I am—we are—most honoured to have you here. If you don’t mind me saying, I’m something of an expert myself—
This lazy man does nothing but sit up on the roof most of the time, watching the Silvers and their antiques, and collecting all sorts of nonsense hear-say—
…
“Just the person I need to talk to,” she says. You hear that, Sivvy? Ha-ha!
I will leave you two to it, then, my Lady. As long as you promise me to take everything he says with a pinch of salt.
…
—Oh, thank you, you are most kind. I will bring you your breakfast soon.
Now. Come, come, no need for formality. Drink your coffee while it’s hot. Hmm… I have no doubt your ears have picked up some of the rumours that have been going around town since you and those other two King’s Dragons arrived here. What have you heard thus far?
…
Oh yes, your escorts will be here in the next few days. The finest of the Silvers, the Purest of their bloodlines. That I have heard too!
…
No, that one is nonsense. Don’t listen to a thing old Fassy says.
…
Well—
…
Hm. Well I suppose I will be honest with you. Some are saying that the King of the Land is looking to solidify his alliance with the Silvers up on the Hackles. That this is no simple research team. You came here with two other dragons representing their King, surely you are aware that such a conclusion will be drawn, and quickly.
Others are saying that, while that is true, his Dragonologist was instructed to meet and curry the favour of only one dragon: the ever elusive Silver King. And to him will go all of these gifts that you have brought along with you. Win the King over, and you gain the favour of all his subjects. But you and I know that is a very human way of thinking.
Each Silver is the king over his own heart; no one else rules over him (or her). No one can tell him (or her) what to do.
So then, why are you asking for this King of the Silvers? I had thought that the folk coming in here were sprouting all sorts of nonsense again, till I heard it from your own lips, as you spoke to my wife. And ah, now I can see for myself that it is a personal matter that you are pursuing. Yes, yes, I am a rather perceptive man, and offensively so, I am afraid. But do not worry, I will not press you to elaborate. And neither will you ask me how I have come upon this knowledge that I am passing on to you. Deal? Wonderful—
Here you go, my Lady Dragonologist. Your Cannilou* Breakfast Crepe. I gave you some extra whipped cream on the side because some of the tourists who try this for the first time are not used to the tartness. What you do first is this. Try a little of the crepe without the berry. Note the taste. Okay? Now. You see this lone berry on the side? You pop that into your mouth first. Yes, maybe with some whipped cream. Ahahahah yes that’s normal, everyone makes that face when they eat it the first time. It’s an interesting sort of sour, isn’t it? There’s some light, sweet undertones, but overall it does take some getting used to. Alright, try the crepe again.
…
Heh. Yes. I live for that reaction; it never gets old. What the berry does is it sort of awakens the taste-buds and clears the senses. Makes everything that you eat along with it more pleasantly sweet and fragrant.
I’m so glad you were brave enough to order this today, my Lady. Oh, you’re too kind. Of course, yes! We do cook dragon-sized portions! Shall I have them delivered to your accommodations? Lovely.
Please do enjoy!
Heheh. Sivvy makes the best Cannilou crepes, if you ask me. And the best coffee, but I digress. She likes to say it’s all in the berry, but I’ve tried all the others, and they have not quite got the sweetness and fragrance of their crepes the way she has. Plenty of experimenting to get to where she is today. Guess who she tested her recipes on. Ha!
Go on, eat your breakfast. Now, where were we…
The King of the Silvers. Right.
So you may have heard that he is one of the oldest dragons in the world, and has been here since the pre-war times and beyond. An interesting fellow, this one. I have seen him flying, but always he is accompanied by his own escort, who flies before him. One might deduce from the haphazard way that he flies (for a Silver, that is), plus the need for a guide… One might deduce that he has some sort of impairment. Sight, I believe.
Now, Lady Dragonologist, you know the Silvers. That is surprising news indeed. They are thought to be the most prideful of all the dragons, so how is it that a blind one rules over them?
…
Well, I heard a rumour. A story.
It goes like this: A long time ago, when the King of the Silvers was but a wee-wyrmling, he fell in love. Back in those days, he was known simply as Elioenai.
Elioenai was, and is, Pure of Blood. He was also one of the strongest and most skilled in his Talent. It was said that he could have any mate that his heart so desired. Yet he found himself loving no one, no… Not until that fateful day when the storm arrived.
Within the storm, bathed in lightning, was the kind of dragon that most have only ever heard of in tales. It was an Astral-class dragon. They call her Sonorous, the Fading one, for she came and she went with the storms.
When the Elioenai saw her, it was not her beauty that struck him, but her blood. She was injured, falling from the skies. He rose up to meet her, and brought her into his cave to rest. He nursed her back to health, and hunted for her.
However, because of the light that radiated from her scales, his vision began to dim and die. And soon, it was she that hunted for him, for he was unable to do so himself. Some say… that perhaps that was how he fell in love.
She cared for him, till the next storm carried her away. Then the King of the Silvers had little choice but to attempt to hunt on his own.
He was terrified as he left his cave, and for good reason. To the Silvers, blindness was a weakness, as was any defect to the body. If he was seen this way, someone, even those he called his friends, could decide to challenge him for his mountain, and therefore his home. They would surely defeat him, he knew. Though they likely would not kill him. No, he might be killed by a lesser creature in the end, for he would have to move deeper and deeper into the valley in his humiliation…
Yet, as he went along his way, he was not challenged, but adored. Worshipped, even; the other Silvers bowed low to him, gave him great names that belonged only to the Astrals, or dragons of great power. When he finally chanced upon his friend, a Gray, the dragon revealed to him that his scales shone like the noon-day sun. So he was indeed being mistaken for an Astral! Could it be that in the time that he had spent with Sonorous, her mysterious light had shed off upon him? Would this light fade with time? Or was he changed… forever? But what did it matter? He was blind. Could the gleaming light from his scales make up for his lack? And what would the other Silvers do, if they found out that they had been tricked? That he was not an Astral after all, only a fortunate—or unfortunate—Silver who had been with one?
Knowing that he would be unable to keep up this level of (unwitting) deceit, Elioenai decided to reveal what had transpired to the other Silvers, and accept whatever consequences that awaited him. Humiliation. Exile. The Council debated for many days.
When they finally summoned Elioenai again, it was not disgrace that was heaped upon him, but a title of honour. The title of King.
And naturally his story became one of the many Great Oddities, for his tale was odd indeed.
Yes?—
…
I see that you’re perceptive too. Yes, I do have my own theories as to why Elioenai was bestowed the title of “King”. These theories are not very popular, so I do not talk about them unless asked. Many of the townsfolk are fond of getting insulted by any minor thing on behalf of their precious Silvers. But if you are keen to listen to what I have to say…
…
Of course. That is only logical.
Well. My gut tells me that Elioenai holds an empty title. He is not really King, clearly.
For one, when the Council gathers, he is not in their midst.
And here is another observation: one would expect a King to have a constant stream of subjects, petitioning to see him and receive his wisdom or blessing on various matters, should they not? Yet, other than the escort that takes him hither tither, no one else visits his den.
…
Yes. They do provide for him. They hunt for him, for example. A Silver would fly by his den on occasion, and would simply drop the carcass at the mouth of the cave. It seems that there is a fair amount of gore, splattered all across the entrance of the den. I assume that it must smell rather unpleasant. But then again I do not know what sort of smells dragons like.
It’s almost disdainful, the way that it is done. As though they are envious of the title that he holds, empty though it may be. Or they hate that they have to provide for him, with nothing in return.
…
I think he is some sort of figurehead to the other Silvers. Perhaps a representation that they are capable of kindness and sacrifice. You know how they are. They like to prove us elves wrong when they can. Or perhaps with his scales still glowing the way they are, they believe that he was chosen, so to speak, by an Astral. And an Astral cannot be refuted. Perhaps they fear incurring the wrath of the Fading One.
…
No… She has not returned, not since they have arrived here on our world.
I cannot imagine how it must be like to be him. The humiliation. The hate that he must be feeling from the other dragons around him. They can sense it, can’t they? They call it Intent. I think that if I were in his place, I would rather just die…
But I have a feeling that he is waiting for her…
Some nights I look out my window and I see a point of light, too bright to be a star, too small to be the moon. And I know that it is him.
Ha. I have never felt so much pity for a dragon.
…
Well, if you do meet him… Will you let him know that if he ever visits the town, he can seek me out? Sivvy loves cooking for the dragons who come by, I am sure she will be most honoured to provide a meal or two for this King of the Silvers.
*A small, red-purple berry that grows only in the Highlands near the Hackles Mountain Range.