Hell Skin by Garrett Robinson

Author:Garrett Robinson [Robinson, Garrett]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Legacy Books
Published: 2020-11-26T23:00:00+00:00

NOW, I HAVE COMMENTED ON Mag’s appearance before this. But it is worth noting that she always looked younger than she was, even when she lived in that village called Shuiniu.

Ten years before Mag and I met, she had just begun her apprenticeship under Duana. Of course, she did not have a hand in the brewing straight away. As is the case with many apprentices, she spent her first several months taking care of odd jobs around the brewery. She would sweep up shavings, fix small things that had broken, and haul water and grain from one place to another as required. All the while, Duana would explain the craft to her, indoctrinating her into the finer aspects of the art.

And Duana would tell stories. It seemed she was a talespinner, of sorts, though none so fine as Dryleaf. But mayhap that is one reason Mag and I became such good friends. She always loved stories, and she would listen with rapt attention as Duana told tales of long ago. She heard stories of the time before time and the founding of Underrealm, the dark days of the Wizard Kings, and many great heroes and terrible villains scattered throughout the countless years of history.

And then, one day, Duana said something that made Mag frown and stop in the middle of her work.

“What is that?” said Mag. Her eyes were wide, and her hand stilled where it had been wiping a brewing vat with a rag.

Duana looked at her in mild surprise. With a giant wooden spoon, she had been stirring a large cauldron as it came to a boil. Now she glanced at the spoon, the cauldron, and the beginnings of her next brew. “What is what?” she asked.

“The word you just said,” said Mag.

“Meldin? That is the name of the Dragon in the tale.”

“Not the name, that other word. The D … Dr—”

“Dragon?” said Duana. “What about it?”

A shadow seemed to come over Mag’s face, her expression a cloud of confusion. “What is that? Is it an animal?”

Duana studied Mag, who seemed held as if frozen in ice. And the old brewer felt a powerful, mournful sadness enclose her heart. She often forgot how many little things like this Mag did not know, things that most children learned from bedtime stories.

But then, most children heard those tales from their parents, and Mag had had no such opportunity.

“They were not animals,” said Duana quietly. “They were … something more. Do you know of satyrs or centaurs?”

Finally, Mag moved, but only to give a tiny nod. “You told me of centaurs.”

“Then you know they have bodies like animals, but they are clever of mind like we are,” said Duana. “Dragons are something like that, but far greater and more terrible. They are more akin to Elves.”

Mag nodded quickly, eager to please. “I know of Elves.”

Duana smiled again. “Good. If you have heard of them, you can get an idea of Dragons.”

“Are they the same size as us, like Elves?” said Mag.

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