The Syphon Chronicles

“Of course. But not before he was k–”My account was most rudely interrupted by a sudden blackout. And I mean most rudely, because I vaguely remember the last time I had one, and hence wasn’t at all prepared for it. As I was whisked momentarily through darkness, I felt extremely curious as to who had summoned me. A break of thirteen years rusts your mind, and I feel the need to admit that I’m not the most attentive of my species, so it was difficult to tell if it was her again.

Her. “Her” is something I would like to forget. Somebody I would rather not talk about. Impossible under current circumstances, being hauled through space the way I was now.

———-

When I finally appeared at Kaudes I was rather surprised to see the changes that had been made while I was gone. There were new ships, new vegetation, and new people. The dock had been repaired, now made of some kind of solid wood, and it hardly creaked as I made my way down to the queue of multi-coloured dragons at varying degrees of growth and health. It felt right to be here, yet I knew it would be a long time before I would see freedom again. Unless, of course, I was lucky and my master decided to quit halfway into the journey. Actually most of them do quit before completing the quest, but then again none of us should have expected to achieve anything with those stickly weaklings. They hardly even live up to a hundred.

And we dragons, we don’t have the patience for the quest. Everyone wants to be the hero at the end who saves the rest, but none, I swear, none of us, are willing to suffer for it. It’s just too long. Our masters get bored easily, they leave the game, we get new masters, we start the quest anew, it’s become a cycle. As far as I know, none of us, with the exception of Meglar, has ever crossed the Yahma Desert. And his master had them travel for nine years. Nine years, and nothing found. Not even a blasted clue as to where the Momentum was, the Momentum that would set us all free from this game, to live again. As humans, in the real world. In our masters’ world.

Until that day is set in motion, the only freedom we are going to get is the freedom to walk this world without a master. Do you see the conflict? False freedom at the price of real freedom. We’re a tired race. The wild goose chases we’ve been on, they don’t appeal anymore.

I joined the gloomy line, sullen at the loss of my false freedom, and anxious about my master. Like a factory process we moved onward, some meeting their masters for the first time, most continuing their respective journeys. And then I was prodded by imps to a boy who was oblivious to my presence, preoccupied with loading his sack chock-full of supplies.

“Boy, I’m not exactly young so I’d appreciate if you don’t try to break my back.”

Startled, he lost his grip on the ropes and the sack fell onto the floor.

“Well…?”

“I…uh..erm…who’re you?”

“Your pet dragon. My name is Syphon, courtesy of my first master who took a delight in strange, exotic, legendary names. I am a Glitch and I serve a bond to you now, my master.”

Self-introduction on the first meeting was the first rule we had to adhere to, although the first lines were improvised by yours truly.

“I…er…I’m Hans.”

“Hands, yes? Good. Now if you can pick up that sack we can start looking for that damned Momentum,” I gestured to the lump lying on the ground. “Trust me, it’s full enough and you’re going to need to throw some things along the way.”

“T…the…Old Book s…s…said…not to listen to everything your slave says.”

“Brat, don’t you dare call me a slave, dammit! I told you my name.”

“I’m…I’m sorry. Er, Syphon.”

I was glad it wasn’t her. But I wasn’t too grateful either. What were my chances of finding the Momentum with a master like that