Undefined - The Zephyr Book 1 ? (completed)(#Wattys2016)

Chapter 20 - Cello

20 - Cello

I open the door and step inside the rectangular room. The lights are dimmed and the blinds are drawn over the large window at the back. The man at the desk sits still with his head tucked down and his chest rising and falling, taking a nap. I hesitate at the door, wondering if I should go back out and tell the secretary that now isn't the best time to meet my guide.

But I don't know whether napping on the job would get him into trouble. From what I gathered, this old fellow isn't exactly revered by the Core. I close the door behind me and approach the desk, slipping into the chair facing the ancient Undefined, the large black desk between us.

I can wait for him to wake up, it's not like I have anything better or more pressing to do. I guess you could say I have a soft spot for the elderly. My grandfather was considerably old, and even though we were a century and a few decades apart in age, we were pretty good friends. He was also quite sharp until the very end. We ate lunch together every single day until he died, and we always had something to talk about.

And if he taught me anything it was to be patient when old men have their naps.

I would venture that this fellow, Old Flent, is no one's grandpa, but he certainly managed to do a thing or two in the past few hundred years. If I live to be that old, I'd be happy that people could admire me for just that.

And so time passes in silence, my thoughts scattering everywhere. I usually have a moment or two during the day in which I just sit and think about nothing in particular. The past few days have been so intense and it doesn't take me long to wander off into a daydream. I barely notice when Risa slithers out of my pocket and places her front paws on the desk. My eye catches a slight movement and I turn my head to the desk to find a pair of large bottomless black eyes watching me.

I feel Risa's body tense-up in my lap. The air grows rigid with a strange sort of electricity that makes the hairs on my arms stand on end. My spinal chord tingles, my nerves buzz, I feel a terrible danger loom before me.

A low growl rumbles in the depths of Risa's throat. Old Flent's Alprine climbs onto the table and swells in size until she is as large as a small lion, her head twice the size of mine, her tail long and powerful, swishing through the air. She bears several rows of dangerous teeth.

Risa bolts out of my lap across the room and up the wall, the other Alprine is right on her tail, equally as swift and agile despite her larger size. I yelp and leap to my feet about to — I don't know what, throw myself at the larger Alprine perhaps - but a firm hand stops me.

I turn to look into the calm face of the ancient Undefined. He smiles at me, making his eyes disappear among crinkles of old skin. "Relax," he says, "they're only playing. Sit down."

I sit but don't relax right away. I watch Risa like a hawk as she dances and weaves her way around the cabinets of the office, climbing the walls and ceiling, summersaulting midair. The other Alprine is always on her tail but never quite catching her. I can feel the uncomplicated happiness of movement and the feeling of deep recognition. Has Risa ever met one of her kind? I never imagined how lonely she could be. There are things about everyone that only one of your own kind can understand.

"Alprineius Varinolian, one of the few Tagrin names to have penetrated into Medanese language," muses the ancient Undefined. "Do you know what the Medanese word for Alprine is?"

"I didn't know Alprine wasn't a Medanese word."

"Long ago, when Meda was simply one of several little monarchies that lay beyond the reach of the Tagry-Darabinya Empire, Alprines were called 'Dragons' and were believed to be the enemies of kings. Men who wished to prove their loyalty and bravery to their king set out on Dragon-hunting escapades, though none ever returned."