forced to cling to the sides of the bath as Pet was. Androkom said, “We were thinking that true reform cannot take place without a change in our vocabulary. For the last half century, the lands from the mountains to the eastern sea have been called the Kingdom of Albekizan.”
“I guess that should change now that he’s dead,” said Pet. “The Kingdom of Shandrazel?”
“No,” said Shandrazel. “I am the king who will end the age of kings. I will not rule this land—I will serve it. I make no claim to its wealth. Instead, the land is the common wealth of all, dragons and humans. Which is why I propose we call it the Commonwealth of Albekizan.”
“Hmm,” said Pet. “I notice the name Albekizan is still in there.”
“While I did not approve of my father’s tactics, it is pointless to dispute that his conquest of smaller, warring states created one united territory that has largely existed in peace for decades. In a sense, my father created the Commonwealth that we all share. Leaving his name on the land recognizes historical reality and pays tribute to the opportunity for true justice he created.”
“I guess that makes sense,” Pet said, though it didn’t.
Shandrazel’s eyes brightened. He looked pleased at Pet’s acceptance of the idea.
Pet was familiar with the look. His life had been devoted to making sun-dragons happy. It was his calling in life. As a result, he’d lived a life of comfort other humans couldn’t dream of. Perhaps it would be best if he continued doing what he knew how to do well, and simply accepted everything Shandrazel suggested. Shandrazel was kind hearted. Things would work out, wouldn’t they?
“Excuse me,” Pet said, pinching his nose and sinking beneath the steaming waters. Here, weightless, surrounded by water as warm as a womb, he felt free to think.
What he thought about was that horrible day he’d stood on the platform of the Free City, with Albekizan looming over him, taunting him as the dragon armies warmed into the square to slaughter the assembled humans. Of course, the king’s plans had gone wrong. The humans had fought back. Was he now going to surrender their lives back into the control of dragons? Was this the reward those countless unknown soldiers would pay for his survival?
His lungs at the point of bursting, he popped back above the surface of the oily water.
“No,” he said.
“No?” asked Shandrazel.
“No what?” asked Androkom.
“No, I don’t like having Albekizan’s name appearing on new maps of this land. If we truly wish to form a new government, we should cut ties with the past. Simply call it the Commonwealth and nothing more.”
Shandrazel raised a fore-talon to stroke his scaly chin. “There is wisdom in your words,” he said. “So much injustice in this world exists as an artifact of history. Grudges and grievances planted centuries ago blossom as today’s violence. Very well. The Commonwealth.”
“I like its brevity,” said Androkom.
“It’s bold in its simplicity,” Shandrazel mused. “It says that we have closed the book on history, and now take a quill to fresh pages to write the world anew.”
Androkom said something in response, but Pet didn’t hear it. There was a disturbance in the castle, near the chamber door that led to the bath. It sounded like women screaming, high pitched shrieks that trailed off into cackling. Pet was something of an expert at deciphering the shouts of women. Despite the laughter, these women sounded out for blood.
Androkom and Shandrazel got out of the pool. The wave created by Shandrazel’s sudden motion was enough to lift Pet to the pool’s edge. As he stepped out, an earth-dragon attendant came toward him with a big white cotton towel. The towel was meant for a sun-dragon, as big as a bed sheet. Pet draped it over his shoulder to form a toga. He rubbed his hair dry, wrinkling his nose at the fishy odor that clung to him.
“I wonder what the commotion is,” Androkom
“I guess that should change now that he’s dead,” said Pet. “The Kingdom of Shandrazel?”
“No,” said Shandrazel. “I am the king who will end the age of kings. I will not rule this land—I will serve it. I make no claim to its wealth. Instead, the land is the common wealth of all, dragons and humans. Which is why I propose we call it the Commonwealth of Albekizan.”
“Hmm,” said Pet. “I notice the name Albekizan is still in there.”
“While I did not approve of my father’s tactics, it is pointless to dispute that his conquest of smaller, warring states created one united territory that has largely existed in peace for decades. In a sense, my father created the Commonwealth that we all share. Leaving his name on the land recognizes historical reality and pays tribute to the opportunity for true justice he created.”
“I guess that makes sense,” Pet said, though it didn’t.
Shandrazel’s eyes brightened. He looked pleased at Pet’s acceptance of the idea.
Pet was familiar with the look. His life had been devoted to making sun-dragons happy. It was his calling in life. As a result, he’d lived a life of comfort other humans couldn’t dream of. Perhaps it would be best if he continued doing what he knew how to do well, and simply accepted everything Shandrazel suggested. Shandrazel was kind hearted. Things would work out, wouldn’t they?
“Excuse me,” Pet said, pinching his nose and sinking beneath the steaming waters. Here, weightless, surrounded by water as warm as a womb, he felt free to think.
What he thought about was that horrible day he’d stood on the platform of the Free City, with Albekizan looming over him, taunting him as the dragon armies warmed into the square to slaughter the assembled humans. Of course, the king’s plans had gone wrong. The humans had fought back. Was he now going to surrender their lives back into the control of dragons? Was this the reward those countless unknown soldiers would pay for his survival?
His lungs at the point of bursting, he popped back above the surface of the oily water.
“No,” he said.
“No?” asked Shandrazel.
“No what?” asked Androkom.
“No, I don’t like having Albekizan’s name appearing on new maps of this land. If we truly wish to form a new government, we should cut ties with the past. Simply call it the Commonwealth and nothing more.”
Shandrazel raised a fore-talon to stroke his scaly chin. “There is wisdom in your words,” he said. “So much injustice in this world exists as an artifact of history. Grudges and grievances planted centuries ago blossom as today’s violence. Very well. The Commonwealth.”
“I like its brevity,” said Androkom.
“It’s bold in its simplicity,” Shandrazel mused. “It says that we have closed the book on history, and now take a quill to fresh pages to write the world anew.”
Androkom said something in response, but Pet didn’t hear it. There was a disturbance in the castle, near the chamber door that led to the bath. It sounded like women screaming, high pitched shrieks that trailed off into cackling. Pet was something of an expert at deciphering the shouts of women. Despite the laughter, these women sounded out for blood.
Androkom and Shandrazel got out of the pool. The wave created by Shandrazel’s sudden motion was enough to lift Pet to the pool’s edge. As he stepped out, an earth-dragon attendant came toward him with a big white cotton towel. The towel was meant for a sun-dragon, as big as a bed sheet. Pet draped it over his shoulder to form a toga. He rubbed his hair dry, wrinkling his nose at the fishy odor that clung to him.
“I wonder what the commotion is,” Androkom
Similar Books
