Gifting a Dragon’s Heart

Excerpt

Gifting a Dragon’s Heart
Mell Eight © 2024
All Rights Reserved

Chapter One

The sharply peaked roofs of Outpost came into view around noon as Roan followed the path beaten through tall, waving grass by generations of sturdy feet. Outpost had an official name on the maps, of course, but the locals simply called it what it was: an outpost station literally two steps from the start of the untamed wilds.

Roann replied, shrugging. “I like to send her gifts when I can.”

“Expensive gift,” Marius murmured, distracted by the blue skin. “Oh!” he added abruptly. “You got a letter last month.”

He stepped away from the bar to a lockbox kept along the back wall. He used the key around his neck to unlock the box and retrieve the letter for Roan.

“I sent the standard reply back to the return address, saying you were out in the field and would respond as soon as you could.”

Roan ripped open the envelope and pulled out the single piece of paper inside while Marius went back to the skins.

“Any hearts?” Marius asked, moving on to the red skin.

“Mar,” Roan replied, his tone as heavy as his frown. “You know you can’t sell a dragon’s heart.”

“Hah. You are the only roamer that follows that old adage, you realize. Besides, these are wyverns. No one’s seen a real dragon going on at least fifty years.”

“Dragon hearts can only be given as gifts,” Roan finished the second half of the adage, completely uncaring that wyverns were only the smaller, considerably less dangerous cousin to dragons. He had the hearts for every skin in his bag, and a separate bag in his personal safe with the rest he had gathered over the last few years. At some point, he would hire a security crew to transport them home to his sister for him, and since he had the skin, maybe now was a good time to organize that.

“Whatever you say,” Marius replied, unrolling the orange skin. “You ever change your mind, the heart is worth double what you earn from these skins.”

“Just pay me for the skins and forget about the hearts,” Roan said, sighing. He and Marius had this same conversation every time Roan came back to Outpost to sell the skins he had harvested and re-provision for his next trip to the wilds. After a few days of rest and relaxation, sleeping in real beds, and using an actual shower, Roan would be more than ready to return to the peaceful solitude of the wilds.

Roan finally unfolded the letter and found only a few lines of his sister’s loopy, angled writing inside.

Roanan,

I don’t know when you’ll get this message, but I hope you hear the news from me first. Father is dying. I know you and he had your differences; however, he has requested to see you one last time. If you receive my letter before he’s gone, please consider coming home. Even if you’re too late to see him, I could use a show of your support by having you at my side for a time as we go through the mourning period and transition to my taking over.

Please, please come home. I promise I will not do anything to prevent you from leaving when you’re ready to go, but I need you right now.

All my love,

Shanan

“Damn.” Roan refolded the letter and tipped his head back, staring unseeing at the wooden beams of the ceiling. “Damn,” he repeated.

“Everything okay?” Marius asked.

Roan looked down, glad to be able to refocus on Marius rather than his swirling thoughts. While Roan had been reading, Marius had rolled the skins back up and had started counting out silver coins for payment. He had paused in his counting, one coin held in his hand just above the stack, and he had a concerned look on his face.

Roan shook his head. “My sister needs me to come home, so it looks like my next trip is heading inland. Once you’re done counting, could you bring me my box from the safe?”

“Inland? Damn is right. I’m sorry anything is dragging you there.”

He finished counting the coins and headed to the back of the bar, where a massive safe door took up a large section of the wall. Unlike the lockbox, this was a modern, high-tech safe. Roan and other roamers paid for the extra protection, though. Marius placed his hand on the biometric scanner, letting it read his fingerprints and take a DNA sample from his sweat. The door clicked a moment later and swung outward. Marius vanished inside, returning after a few seconds with a large metal box with Roan’s name written on a piece of paper taped to the top.

Roan took the box, scooped up the coins, the green skin, and his letter, and stuffed it all into his much lighter pack.

“Thanks, Mar. There a room at the inn?” he asked.

“There should be. You need anything else?”

“Just to figure out when the next train leaves,” Roan replied.

Marius grinned. “You’re in luck. The train came in an hour ago. They’ll have it unloaded and restocked tonight for departure first thing in the morning. You should go buy your ticket now, so the conductor knows to expect you.”

“Thanks again.” Roan held out a hand for Marius to shake. “I’ll be back sometime, whenever I can escape my sister’s clutches again, so this is only goodbye for now.”

Marius nodded. “I’ll see you soon, my friend.”

Roan walked out of the tavern but stopped on the sidewalk outside to get his bearings. To his left was a hitching post and water trough for horses and donkeys. To his right was a parking lot for cars, not that many residents in the tiny Outpost bothered to own a car when everything they needed was less than a block away. The train station was on the far side of town, hidden for the moment by the houses and shops.

“Come on, Syth,” Roan sighed. “Time to face the music, I guess.”

Syth mewled and clawed at the ground.

“No, there’s no way this is not going to be fun for either of us. You want to stay behind, I’m sure Marius would take care of you.”

Syth snorted and bopped the top of his head against Roan’s hip.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Roan replied, sighing again. He couldn’t procrastinate any longer, so he stepped onto the sidewalk and started making his way down the street. More people hailed him as he passed, but Roan continued to only wave hello. He reached the cross street and turned to walk the last few yards to the station.

The train station was the largest building in Outpost. Long, with a raised platform for the entire train, it also had a number of big warehouses for storing goods between shipments. Roan climbed the steps into the lobby and headed over to the bored-looking teen manning the ticket booth.

“Two tickets to The Dragon,” Roan said. Syth would want his own seat for the ride.

“Geeze, Roan. Wha’d’ya wanna go there for?” Despite his question, the kid punched the numbers into the computer. Roan dug in his bag for one of the silver coins, and the kid handed back copper coins as change and two bronze chits as his tickets.

“It’s long past time I go visit my sister,” he explained as he tucked everything away again. “I’ll be back though.”

“Good,” the kid said, grinning at him. “Roamers belong in the wilds, not in The Dragon. Have a good trip.”

“I’ll try.” Roan waved goodbye and retraced his steps. He passed the tavern and went to the next building over, the only inn in Outpost.

“Hey, Roan. Word is you’re leaving us,” Hally, the proprietress, said as he pushed the door open and stepped inside.

“I forgot how fast news spreads here,” Roan answered, sighing. “I’m just going for a visit; I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“I hope so. In the meantime, you could use a bath, a filling meal, and a good night’s sleep. I’ve got you covered.”

“I appreciate it, Hal.” Roan handed her four coppers. “Any chance you can throw in some laundry service too?”

“For you? Of course.” She winked and smiled at him and started tapping on her computer. “Room four.” She passed him an old-fashioned key. “I’ll have dinner brought up in a bit. Let me know if you need anything else.”

Roan smiled in thanks before heading to the back of the room where the staircase was located. He went to the second floor and then down the hall to the door with a brass number four nailed to it. Inside was a standard double bed, one nightstand, a chest of three drawers, and the door to the private bathroom he had paid an extra copper for.

“Shower first, I think,” he said to Syth, who ignored him. Roan followed Syth to the far side of the bed, where he found a massive dog bed under the window. Hally must have gotten the room ready while Roan was buying his train tickets, since Syth’s bed was kept in storage while Roan was in the wilds.

While Syth curled up for a nap, Roan shucked his clothes. He dug into the bottom of his pack to pull out his few extra clothes and bundled it all into one of the laundry bags left on top of the drawers. He opened the door a crack to peek into the hallway to make sure no one was around since he was naked, then hung the bag from the doorknob for Hally to take care of for him. Chores done, Roan went to get a shower.

He stood under the hot water for far too long, luxuriating in the heat and the plentiful soap, since all he’d had for bathing facilities for the last six months were cold mountain streams. He did eventually tear himself away so he could instead enjoy the luxury of a thick towel. Once he was dry, he slipped into the robe hanging from the back of the bathroom door.

Back out in the main room, Roan found Hally had served dinner. Syth was nose deep in a bowl of meat scraps. A folding table and chair had been brought in and set along the far wall, and on it he found a bowl of chicken stew, thick with shredded meat and potatoes and fragrant with onion and thyme. Half a loaf of bread and a glass of water had also been set out. Luckily, Hally knew Roan didn’t drink alcohol, since she usually would have served beer with this type of meal rather than water.

Roan dug the box out of his bag and set it on the table, but he tucked into his food first. Only after he had mopped up the last of the broth with a slice of bread did he return his attention to the box.

There wasn’t a lid on what appeared to be a solid rectangular metal container, only a small indentation on one of the long edges. He pressed his thumb into the indentation, then waited. The box had sat, unused, for six long months, so it took a few seconds for the mechanics to whir to life. It scanned his fingerprint and then with a click, the top popped open on a hidden hinge.

Roan looked at the contents and let out a heavy sigh. He only kept three things in his box: one small pouch, a second large pouch bulging with dragon hearts, and a sealed envelope containing his last will and testament.

Marius’s service for roamers with these lockboxes was much needed. He kept a box for three years, the starting time of which renewed whenever a roamer returned to Outpost. If Marius didn’t see a roamer after three years had passed, he mailed the box to whomever the roamer designated with a letter saying the roamer in question was very likely deceased. The three things Roan wanted Shanan to have should he be killed in the wilds were in this box. Marius took a cut from all the sales of wyvern skins in return for the service, which Roan was happy to pay. Shanan knowing what had become of him and being able to access his inheritance was incredibly important.

He took out the small pouch first, opening the drawstring and pulling out a long silver link-style chain strung through the center of a signet ring. He dropped the chain over his head and looked down where the ring rested against his breastbone with a grimace of distaste. He hadn’t missed wearing the ring in the ten years since he had put it away in the box, but he couldn’t return to The Dragon without it. He put the empty small pouch back into the box.

He didn’t bother looking in the second pouch, which was too full to fit the additional hearts from his pack. He set it onto the table, then closed the lid, which automatically locked. Roan would return the box to Marius on his way to the train in the morning.

Roan looked around his room, checking whether there was anything he had forgotten. Syth had finished eating and was asleep, sprawled on his bed upside down with all four paws in the air. Outside the window, the sky was turning brilliant reds and oranges as the first sun began to sink below the horizon. The second sun never set, but it only glowed a soft blue that Roan found soothing at night. He watched the colors shift for a few long moments before levering himself to his feet.

He was tired and had an early morning start to look forward to. He unhooked the bedroll from his bag—Hally would store it with Syth’s bed while he was away—and tucked the pouch of hearts into the bottom of the bag. His extra clothing would go on top once Hally finished cleaning them.

Finding nothing else to prepare for the morning, Roan climbed into bed. He pulled the covers up to his chin, sank into the comfort of an actual mattress, and was asleep in seconds.