Grand Emperor Boofeldt hadn’t known what to expect from his Pilgrimage to visit the Dragon under the Mountain. Even though it was something every Grand Emperor was expected to do, usually in the first year of their reign, they never spoke about it afterwards, not to anyone; they never even wrote anything down in personal diaries, because whatever went on between Grand Emperor and Dragon was supposed to be kept private. It was tradition.

The spoken legends and the history books all agreed that the man who became the first Grand Emperor had made a pact with the Dragon when the planet was first settled. It had been agreed that the settlers would be allowed to stay as long as Carraxia was ruled by a direct descendant of the original ruler. If the first Emperor’s bloodline should ever die out, or if someone not of the first Emperor’s bloodline should ever try to take power for themselves, it was said that the Dragon’s vengeance would be swift and merciless, so for more than two thousand years, the title of Grand Emperor had been passed down to the eldest surviving child of each generation.

It was just Boofeldt’s bad luck that he’d been the ONLY child of the previous Grand Emperor, who’d inconveniently died when Boofeldt himself had been a mere eight years old, and… Well, you get the picture. He didn’t mind TOO much, he’d always known he would be Grand Emperor someday, he’d just thought he’d have a bit longer to NOT be Grand Emperor, but if he knew anything at all, it was that life wasn’t always fair, and you didn’t always get what you wanted.

Of course, the complete silence about the momentous meeting between each new ruler of Carraxia and the Dragon meant that many people had decided the Dragon didn’t exist, or that if it ever had, it must have died centuries ago. Surely nothing could live for thousands of years. Fortunately, the people of Carraxia were just superstitious enough that they preferred not to tempt fate, so there had never been any attempt to remove any legitimate Grand Emperor from power. Well, not unless the death of Boofeldt’s father hadn’t been the unfortunate accident everyone assumed.

It was, Boofeldt supposed, entirely possible that the Grand Emperor’s advisors had seen their chance to take a young child and mould him into the kind of ruler they could control from behind the scenes, as it were. If that was the case, they must surely be disappointed by now.

At this point, Boofeldt had already been Grand Emperor for seven years, and his advisors weren’t faring too well. He’d already fired several, and he had a tendency to do the opposite of what his remaining advisors suggested. Well, except for when they tried to trick him by suggesting he do the opposite to what they wanted him to do. They’d quickly learned that tactic was doomed to failure. Boofeldt might be young, but he hadn’t been born yesterday. He’d received an excellent education throughout his childhood, even if he hadn’t appreciated it at the time, and he was continuing to educate himself, as befitted the ruler of an entire planet.

Anyway, late though it was, by several years, Boofeldt had finally decided his Pilgrimage shouldn’t be put off any longer, so here he was, in the vast cavern deep beneath the Sacred Mountain, having tea with the Dragon, who was not only very real, but was rather magnificent with his gleaming bronze scales, and his piercing golden eyes, each as big as Boofeldt’s head.

The tea was very good; Boofeldt had brought it with him, along with other gifts for the Dragon: a gaming board with the pieces carved from obsidian and goldstone, some very fine pearls, a flask of honey, and a box of candied gingolfruits, all of which the Dragon seemed delighted with. Along with the tea, they were currently sharing some sweet biscuits Boofeldt had brought with him as part of his own provisions. He was going to have to buy more food for the journey back to the capital; hopefully the village where he'd left his mount would be able to supply what he needed, but that was a problem for later. Right now, the only thing that mattered was the very real dragon in front of him.

“A lot of people these days don’t believe in you,” he admitted, offering the dragon the last biscuit. The Dragon, having far better manners than the members of the Royal Court, insisted that they share it, so Boofeldt broke it in half, but gave the Dragon the bigger piece. He was, after all, a very large Dragon, who surely must have an appetite to match his size.

“That is to be expected, I suppose,” the Dragon rumbled. “At my age, I find I prefer to keep to myself most of the time; the day-to-day doings of people are of little interest to me. I have lived a very long time, and I shall continue to live for many thousands of years yet, but there are far more important things for me to think about than those your people are so concerned with, such as wealth, and power, neither of which are as important as your kind seem to think.”

Boofeldt sighed. “You know so much; I wish you were my advisor. The ones I’ve got are useless. Half the time I don’t know what they’re talking about, and the other half THEY don’t know what they’re talking about. Sometimes I think they just talk to hear themselves.”

“It seems to me that you are already quite a lot wiser than those who would advise you.”

“I don’t know about being wise.” Boofeldt shrugged. “I’m only fifteen. I read a lot though, and I try to do the best I can for my people. ALL of my people, not just the rich ones and the Royal Court. It’s like they’ve forgotten that other people matter. We need the farmers, and the bakers, and the weavers, and everyone, and they deserve to have comfortable, dry homes, and enough to eat, just as much as the wealthy and powerful do. Probably more. They grow our food and make all the things we use every day. Without them, we’d all starve, and have nothing to wear.”

“You understand.” The Dragon nodded gravely. “Young though you are, you see the world as it is. You know that all who live here are in need of the same things: Food, shelter, warmth. You desire to distribute these things fairly, so that all the people have sufficient for their needs. This shows wisdom. You will be a fine ruler for your people.”

“I hope so. I want to do what’s right, but it’s hard. Everyone always wants something, and some people want more than they deserve, and I’m so busy all the time, settling disagreements, listening to petitioners, passing sentence on criminals, that I never get the chance to just be me. Every day, I’m the Grand Emperor from the moment I wake up in the morning to the moment I fall asleep at night, and even in my dreams. It’s hard. Sometimes…” Boofeldt paused, gnawing on his bottom lip.

“Yes?” the Dragon asked, tilting his head.

Boofeldt looked down at his hands, feeling oddly ashamed. “Sometimes I wish I could just run away top the stars where no one knows me, somewhere I could be just an ordinary boy, somewhere I wouldn’t have everyone on the planet depending on me.”

“I suspect that is not an unusual desire for your kind.”

“Maybe not, but it’s the one thing I CAN’T do, because there’s no one who could take my place. I was my father’s only child, and I don’t have any descendants yet. My advisors keep telling me I need to marry and have children; recent branches of the family tree are a bit bare… I think there might be a couple of distant cousins, but they’re really old. One has no teeth, slurps his soup, and mumbles a lot. Anyway, I don’t WANT to get married, not yet, and not to any of the people my advisors keep suggesting.”

“Ruling a world is a hard thing, it requires a great many sacrifices.”

“I’m finding that out,” Boofeldt agreed. “Do you know this is the most fun I’ve had since my eighth birthday? Ten days later, I was crowned Grand Emperor, and that’s all I’ve been ever since.”

“I am sorry. It is a heavy burden for one so young.”

“It’s okay, I’m sort of used to it by now. I’m just a bit sad that after today, I’ll never get to do anything this much fun again.”

“You are always welcome to visit me. I find your company refreshing.”

“I could come back? I always thought the Pilgrimage was a one-time thing.”

The Dragon rumbled a laugh. “Your predecessors have always found one visit to be quite sufficient. It seems I make them uncomfortable, so they come here, present themselves, make a speech, and leave as quickly as they can. I cannot recall the last time one of them stopped long enough to talk. They scuttle away as quickly as the spiders in the caves. Most come no further than the entrance to this cavern.”

“Well that’s just silly! What do they think you’ll do, eat them?”

“Perhaps, although why they should think that, I cannot imagine. I eat seldom, perhaps a herd beast two or three times a year, a few fish from the ocean beyond this mountain. I sleep a great deal, and I dream, my mind wandering among the stars, seeing sights you cannot begin to imagine.”

“I’d love to hear about them!”

“Then you shall. Set out the gameboard and we shall play Pemmin while I tell you tales of other worlds. You do play, do you not?”

“Yes, of course! Doesn’t everyone?”

“Splendid!”

Eagerly, Boofeldt laid the pieces out on the board. This Pilgrimage was turning out to be much more fun than he’d expected.


The End