Short Story Omnibus Vol.1

Short Story Omnibus Vol. 1

S.E. Batt

Copyright 2013 by S.E. Batt

Smashwords Edition

Credits

1. A Present for Cynthia

2. A Talk in the Forest

3. Gone Mything

4. Books and Stripes

5. Grounded to Earth

6. Gifts Dragon

7. Consult the Occult

8. Curse of Impatience

9. Moving House

10. Child With No Name

11. A Lump of Coal

12. Coal New Problem

13. About the Author

14. Credits

15. Other Works

16. Excerpt from Friend Ship

A Present For Cynthia

The Princess of Galha did not spare any expense when it came to asking for presents. In previous years, grand gifts such as pianos, jewellery, and even land were given to the young queen-to-be, with every event being a resounding success. The problems started, however, when she began demanding an ancient water dragon god for her sixth birthday.

It started in the throne room. Three grand, golden thrones sat in a line, at the end of a grand red carpet stretching down the corridor. The middle throne was an odd one out, being smaller than the other two, an additional podium underneath it raising it on the same level as its bretherin. The red and gold banners around the room boasted animal-based insignias of grand pride and prestige, which contrasted heavily with the urchin that was sat on the smaller throne.

It was clear that she was adamant her decision be carried out. Sitting upon her throne, with her arms folded across her pink dress and her face scrunched up, she gave an alternating death glare to her parents, as if they had committed an unforgivable crime. Knowing his daughter for the six years he has, Graham suspected this might be the case.

Now, come on, Cynthia. Queen Faye spoke in a tone that would calm a raging lion, which made it even scarier when Cynthia did not shift her posture. Your father and I have had a long talk about this. We've juggled the pros and cons, and settled on the idea that summoning a water dragon for your birthday present is just not feasible.

Don't see why not. The death gaze became more intense. You've got me everything else that I wanted. Now I want a water dragon.

A water dragon is very hard, if not impossible to make a pet, Cynthia. We would probably not be able to get one ready for your birthday, and even so... Faye looked over to King Graham, her eyes telling him that her usual tactics weren't working. Well...

...what your mother is trying to say, spoke Graham, taking the baton from Faye, "is that we simply don't have the resources to keep a water dragon. It would require a big, big lake, and a lot of food on a daily basis. It's not something we can maintain. You do understand, don't you, honey?"

Make a big lake then. Cynthia shrugged. Dig a big hole in the garden and put water in it, then put the dragon in that. Use your heads.

But Cynthia, that garden was a present to you from your late Uncle Paul. Graham's tone was wavering. You cannot seriously expect to dig up all that hard work that he put into the garden for you just for a water dragon. That's very disrespectful.

Cynthia gave a huff. Don't care. The garden is boring anyway. I told him I wanted a castle, and he didn't give me one. I don't like his stupid garden.

Graham took a deep breath. Well, okay. How about...we could get you a pony? You've always wanted a pony, haven't you? Wouldn't that be nice? Your own little p--

"All of my friends already have ponies. I don't want one of those. They're boring. Cynthia stared out of the window, her chin propped up on her hand, her arm leaning on the throne's arm rest. I want a water dragon."

Graham sighed, looking over to Faye. The way she was looking, she was an effective mirror for his own worry. Is there truly nothing else that we can get you for your birthday, dear? There's nothing else you want more on the day than a water dragon?

"Yes, and that's final." Cynthia stomped a foot on the floor, still refusing to make eye contact. "And if I don't get it, I will be very upset."

The guards stationed around the room flinched in unison.

A-alright. Graham held his hands out in a defensive stance. It's alright. We'll get you a dragon. Just...don't get upset.

Well? Cynthia crossed her legs, her gaze returning. Don't you have to do something before we get the dragon?

Right, right. You. Graham pointed to a servant nearby. Let the gardeners know to make a pond approximately 100 feet wide on all sides. Put it where the garden is now. I want it done and filled up by next week. Is that clear?

Very clear, your majesty. The servant bowed. I shall let them know post haste.

Good. He watched as the servant strolled out of the throne room. He had no idea how he was going to pull this off, or if this was even the best decision to make. All he did know is that if she didn't get what she wanted, then there would be a lot of trouble indeed.

***

The lake was serene, a thick fog weighing itself onto all that dared to face it. The atmosphere was still, save for the frequent, rhythmic sound of a paddle hitting the water, pushing the boat forward. The air was chilled, permeating all coats, jackets and shirts and chilling the entire crew to the bone.

Graham took a deep breath, the air filling his lungs with a icy touch. He had no idea how the proceeds would work. He had no idea if this would even work full stop. He had to give it a shot, at the very least. Anything to prove to Cynthia that such an idea was purely born from madness. Today, they were going to meet with a god. They'll exchange names, make acquaintances, and then Graham will ask of it to become Cynthia's eternal pet in a pond in their back yard.

Images of the multitudes of different ways this plan could go awry filled his mind. It's exactly the last thing he wanted.

Dad. Cynthia's tone was strong and commanding. She was casting a dangling hand into the water, creating ripples.

What is it, dear?

Why haven't we found it yet? You said we'd find it here. I'm so bored, dad. She gave an overly-dramatic sigh, rolling her eyes.

We will, honey. Just give it some time. Graham scanned the lake. It had to be around here somewhere, hiding in the murky depths. The fog did not help matters. Boatman, are you sure you've taken us to the spot?

Indeed, sir. This is the place. The boatman did not break posture as he spoke, his upright and rigid frame refusing to crease the royal guard uniform that he wore.

Well, where on earth is it? I thought it would be right here. Graham looked over the side of the boat directly into the water, hoping to find something. Nothing.

Dad, if I don't see it anytime soon, I'm going to scream.

Now Cynthia, this is not a proper way for a little girl such as yourself to behave.

I'm not little! She struck her kneecaps with balled fists. I'm not! I'm a mature lady, and I have the right to demand my dragon! Where's my dragon? I want my dragon now!

A torrent of bubbles appeared near the boat. Three pairs of eyes locked onto it. Nobody dared to speak. The bubbles grew more intense, the torrent becoming a deafening barrage of sound. With an almighty rush of water, a huge water dragon sprung up from the source. The waves it created crashed against the boat as the dragon unleashed a mighty roar, causing Graham's stomach to do several somersaults. Graham looked up at the dragon, its body a silhouette in the fog, its two bright white eyes piercing both the haze and Graham's confidence.

You have disturbed me from a slumber most deep. Its voice was deep and rough. I sincerely hope that you either have the wisdom to explain yourself, the strength to lay down a fight, or the arms to paddle yourself away as fast as you can. It bowed its head down, its mouth mere feet away from the boat. Choose carefully.

Water dragon! Cynthia giggled and laughed, reaching out to pet the dragon's nose. It's the water dragon, daddy! Look!

Yes, dear. Graham took a deep, uneven breath, his eyes locked on the dragon's own. It's a water dragon.

The dragon looked at the girl. I see you have chosen the stupidity to make a child's toy out of an ancient dragon. To be honest, I was not expecting this.

Well, actually...about that...

Hmm? The dragon sounded almost curious, like a gourmet meeting a pig who had the decency to place the apple in its mouth beforehand. Go on.

We were hoping...well, see, the thing is...well, we had this plan, see... He cleared his throat. T-that you'd actually agree to become her pet. It sounded a lot better in his head.

The dragon made a deep, guttural growl as its head retracted back. A pet.

Well, yes.

To a human child.

Yes, that's the general idea.

And you expected me to agree to this?

Well... Graham rubbed the back of his neck Well, maybe not so much, but--

Did you not consider the fact that I have transcended past mortality, a being of such majesty and strength that no human can truly comprehend? Did it not cross your mind that, perhaps, nudging it awake from its long slumber and asking it to be a slave to you wasn't the brightest ideas that you've had in your now quickly diminishing life?

Dad, is he my pet yet?

Of course I'm not! the dragon's head swooped back down. I shall never become such a foolish thing, not even a friend or acquaintance. I will stay as I always have done, as Grymarth, the great water god, who lived to tell the tale of these great lands being torn asunder into your human constructs known as countries; who bathed in the wisdom of the other gods; who imparted wisdom to--

I made you a necklace! Cynthia stood up on the boat. She held up a small silver chain, with a heart on the end. It has your name on it, too.

The dragon's mouth was still hanging open from his previous sentence, its brain trying to calculate if she said what it thought she did. ...I refuse to wear such a garish piece of human-made jewellery His eyes squinted, reading the text on the heart. I also refuse to be called 'Snufflekins'.

But all my other lizards have similar names! So you should have one like them! she thrust the necklace in Grymarth's direction again. Wear it!

I am no mere 'lizard'. I refuse entirely.

I'll scream.

The dragon snorted. ...you'll scream.

"Yes. I'll scream. I can scream really loud." Cynthia stomped her foot, causing the boat to rock.

Graham plugged his ears.

Ha! Loud, you say. The dragon gave a toothy grin. Well, I invite you to try. Show me the scream which a daughter of the ruler of these very lands can muster. Give me a shout that can inspire strength and courage, and I might let you live. Who knows, I might even feel slightly impressed.

Graham knew that Cynthia couldn't pass up on an ideal moment to scream. Without further prompting, Cynthia took a deep breath, the kind that would have everyone within listening radius to run a mile. At the pinnacle of the intake, Cynthia let loose a scream that would hurt all but the most experienced eardrums. She continued screaming at the face of an elder god until she was out of breath. The remainder of the scream continued to echo around the lake, dissipating back into silence.

The dragon stared, an unimpressed look dominating its face.

I asked for a shout. A scream that could rally an army. A call that could split a mountain in two. A cry that could raise the dead. The dragon shook his head. I did not, however, ask for an earache. My patience is now thin, my rage building. You leave now, or you die. The dragon inhaled deeply. Choose.

Well, if you'd listen to our side of the bargain first, Graham said, I'm sure you'll come to an agreement.

"Leave, or die. Choose."

Well, either you come with us peacefully, or we'll force you to come. We have enough to subdue you.

Hah! The dragon threw its head back in laughter. Such a sweet sound, a man digging his own grave. I have bested some of humanity's finest warriors. Your swords and arrows are nothing to my mettle and strength. If you still consider yourself capable, then come forth! A huge arm raised itself out of the water, positioning itself for a swing. Come forth with all the strength you can mus--

The tension in the air was pierced by a sob so sorrowful that it could melt rock. The dragon froze in mid-swing. Everyone turned to Cynthia, who was wiping the tears from her eyes.

Why have you got to be so mean? She sniffled. I--I just wanted my own pet water dragon, and you're gonna...you're gonna kill us! She let loose a wild bawl.

Don't be sad, little one, I-- Grymarth rubbed the back of his head. "It's just...it's