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“Hmm.” The record keeper took the rock, examining it with interest. “None of any significant size, at least not that I know of. It does look as though it was part of a building though, doesn’t it? Although greatly damaged by a long time under water, of course.”
“The thing is…”
Heath hesitated, not wanting to sound foolish. But the record keeper was watching him encouragingly. The man had always taken him seriously in the past, never implying that he would grow out of his childish desire to explore and discover, as others had done.
“The thing is,” he tried again, “it was out pretty deep.” He gave a brief description of what he had seen, and where he had found the rock. “And it didn’t look like a loose piece of rubble that had been washed into the ocean. It looked like the remains of an actual structure, right there on the ocean bed.”
The record keeper frowned thoughtfully. “That doesn’t seem possible, does it?” he mused. “How could a whole building end up that far out to sea, with any of its structure intact?”
“Is there…” Heath turned the rock over in his hand. “Is there any possibility that something could have been built underwater?”
The record keeper looked surprised. “I’ve never heard of such a thing. How would the builders manage it, if it was as deep as you say? And why would anyone bother?”
“I don’t know,” said Heath absently, his eyes still on the rock. “Could the water level have risen, maybe?”
“Not by that much,” said the record keeper, shaking his head. “I think the most likely explanation is still that the remains of a building near the shoreline washed into the sea a long time ago.” He gestured to the back of the room. “I can show you where to find records of the settlement of that area.”
Heath nodded, trying not to feel disappointed as he followed the record keeper. It wasn’t as though he’d really expected the man to know anything concrete. He browsed through the records indicated, but after skimming several census documents regarding villages in the area, and a dozen reports of harvest returns, he had well and truly lost interest. He turned away, confident he wouldn’t find anything of use there.
He knew he should probably return to the tournament—the next round of the hand to hand combat was due to start that afternoon—but instead he found himself wandering toward a more familiar section. He had spent many happy hours in his childhood reading accounts of early Valorian travelers. He’d never been to the South Lands—he’d never even been to the neighboring kingdom of Kyona—but he knew all about their customs and their climates.
He still hoped that one day he might get to see them. When he was younger, any time he’d wanted to escape his problems, he’d daydreamed about persuading Reka to just pick him up and fly him there. He knew that while the voyage would take humans three weeks by ship, it would take the dragon a matter of hours by air.
He smiled to himself, but there was an edge of sadness to the expression. He was old enough now to realize that outrunning his problems was no solution. And the growing problem facing his family was suddenly feeling much more personal than it had the day before.
He ran his hands over a fairly recent tome about Balenol, the South Lands kingdom that had once made slaves of the Kyonans, but which now had an uneasy peace with the North Lands kingdoms. The borders were shut for many generations, but by the time this record was written—in the time of his grandparents—travel between the kingdoms had been growing more common. Heath didn’t pull the record from the shelf. He had read its accounts of hot, sticky air and prowling jungle cats many times.
He wandered toward the door, without much purpose, reluctant to leave his sanctuary. He paused at a polished wooden table, his eyes running curiously over the parchment spread out there. The title at the top read “Foreign Lands”.
“What’s this?” he asked the record keeper, who was sorting rolled parchments nearby.
“Hm?” the man asked, glancing up briefly. “Oh, that’s an index I’m working on. It’s past time I cataloged that collection, but I’ve tended to focus more on our Valorian records. They’re usually in greatest demand.” He grinned. “Except when you’re in town, of course, My Lord.”
Heath smiled absently, his eyes scanning the parchment. He saw now that it was an alphabetical list of place names. There were markings next to them, obviously indicating the relevant records according to some system of the record keeper’s. He saw many names that were familiar from his reading, like Nohl, the capital of Balenol, and Thirl, the capital of neighboring Thorania.
His eyes caught on the entry at the bottom of the parchment, the name entirely unfamiliar.
“Vazula,” he read aloud. “Where’s that? And why is there a question mark next to it?”
The record keeper wandered over. “Ah, that. I’m not entirely sure if I should include it, that’s all. It’s mentioned in one of the records, but I can’t be sure of its accuracy. The source is unknown, and I suspect that it’s actually an account of a legend, accidentally categorized with the travel records by my predecessor.”
“Can I see it?” Heath asked, his interest piqued.
“Of course.” After a moment’s search, the record keeper retrieved a tightly rolled scroll from a top shelf. “Be my guest.”
“Thanks,” said Heath, unfurling the scroll on the smooth surface of the table, while the record keeper wandered up beside him. He scanned the words quickly, aware that he shouldn’t really be lingering so long. It seemed to be a record of a voyage, made by the ship’s captain, although Heath could understand why the record keeper had been unsure whether it was fact or legend. The captain appeared to have had a fondness for dramatics, his descriptions overly poetic, and his style reading like that of an epic tale rather than a practical ship’s log.
“It seems old,” Heath commented, noting the formality of the language.
“It is,” the record keeper confirmed. “There’s no date, but I would guess that it’s hundreds of years old. This is almost certainly a copy, but it’s still one of the oldest records in here. Certainly worth preserving, regardless of its factual basis.” He chuckled. “Just perhaps not in the section regarding the customs of known lands.”
“On our voyage back from the lands of the east,” Heath read aloud, “we once again stopped at the island kingdom of Vazula. Our stay was brief, for we sensed that our presence was an unhelpful distraction from the conflict at hand.”
He glanced up. “What conflict? And what ‘lands of the east’ is he talking about? I thought there was nothing further east from Valoria, other than Wyvern Islands.”
The record keeper shrugged. “No idea. It’s clear from the wording that this isn’t his first record of such voyages, but this is the only one we have.” He began sorting again. “And it would be more accurate to say that there’s nothing accessible further east from Valoria. We have no records of lands out that way, but we can’t be certain. The waters are simply impassable.”
“Really?” Heath asked, surprised. “I didn’t know that. I was always told that there isn’t anything there.”
