Zanril

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The tale of Zanril von Willowfrost

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Most would assume that at the core of Zanril's unhappiness as a child stood his mother, siblings or any other member of the Serenity village. Yet, they would be wrong. Zanril von Willowfrost was a restless child, not just from the constant energy he has been supplied by whatever god stood by him the day of his birth. But his never ending curiosity and want for knowledge had taken a great toll on his patience. Not to say he had no way of staying patient, just when it came to history, magic, creature study, paleontology, music , languages, geography or well, almost any field it is possible to study, Zanril has read through all the materials about three times, asked about it five hundred times and added the possibility to his "Want to major in" never ending list.

Unfortunately, One of the lists which had an ending, had been the list of "resources" in the official library of the Serenity village. So since the day he finished reading about his great, great, great grandfather, and promptly the last book in the library, he has yearned for more. Even as a hatchling he was enamoured with his family history, the tribe his mother was from. His father, Xanaver, had a family line of his own, Zanril even met Xan, his paternal grandmother once. They were noble shadow dragons, that much was true, yet the tales of them lacked glamour and adventure, as they chose the more settled life as royals. So it was Freyja who he asked every night to tell him family tales.

It probably goes without saying, that Zanril loved his family, and not just his dead and famous one. He was the closest to his younger siblings, Volans and Darrin since he was raised alongside them. His older siblings, the wandering twins Asizora and Mariela,the glowing Erik and bright Frida, were already fullfiling their farmer duties by the time, usually accompanied by his mother, former princess, Freyja and father, former noble, Xanaver.

Although Zanril did not mind the farm life, to proclaim he was not skilled in it, would be an understatment. Whilst the oldest of the second nest knew all the basics and more in theory, yet in reality his best gardening achievement stays the one time he destroyed a harmful plant on mother's flower bed. Maybe that is why he looked up to his close family the same way he looked up to their ancestors. With utter respect for their unreachable deeds.

So no, he did not feel bitterness for his parents' lost titles. Not at all.
Not in the slightest.
Not even the tiniest amount.
Never in the world he would be so selfish...
Not a chance-

Alright, he thought it awful. He did not think he deserved a title, not at all. (Although that would have been great). It just felt horrible in consideration of the long family line of heroes and kings. Their titles and legacy died the second his mother entered the village, as his mother was born an only child. (Or atl east that's what his mother always said). And this sort of legacy death felt unfair, it felt selfish of his mother. Why did she not travel on her own, to some strange kingdom, or some unknown territory? Why must Zanril be tied here, when he'd love to travel entire Sornieth, meet generations and generations. Document all alive, dead and inbetween. Even the "youngest must leave the clan" rule was discontinued. Which is the biggest shame, Darrin didn't have to go! Technically, they're triplets anyways and Zanril would leave happily! He wouldn't take a grain of food with him, if that's what concerned the village...
However, Gods are unfair, just like his parents (Zanril's own words). Therefore the boy had to remain weeding the fields whilst reading the last book from the library.

The winter hit. And when winter hits, the family has one week to gather all resources and farm animals and then almost 0 chores till spring. Zanril loved winter. He got to read all day next to a window and watch the snow fall. Snow was absolutely magical in his eyes. And not just by appearence. It was the fact, that snow or the water that turned into it, traveled the world freely. This water could have travelled hundreds of miles! It might have been water from the central sea, or gladeveins, no one will ever know. And if that can't be categorised as fascinating, Zanril's whole life has been a lie.

He wanted to follow that snow, to visit all the places it had visited...

"Young one, are you supposed to be here, haven't you strayed too much off your path?" A foreign voice rang through the... valley??

Zanril's head snapped towards the stranger and his jaw not very subtly, dropped. Before him stood Tacet’Mare. THE Tacet'Mare guarding Magna'Mater.

"I'm so sorry, sir I didn't meant to-" Zanril began to ramble. This would surely mean his death. He had insulted the great Mare, the hero, the coolest ancestor..."Peace, youngling.." The imperial quitened the tundra, "let's abandon this place, for my fellows are asleep." The ancient one proposed. "But what of the other great ones, won't they be in danger, given you abandon them?" Zanril tried to reason. "Fear not, Argenti will take guard in my absence."
The ancient one assured, humored by the concern.

As they moved from the valley to the fairly familiar grounds of an entrance to the forest near the Serenity village, Zanril's mind was floating like a little hatchling in air streams. He was never allowed to travel more far than the entrance. Meaning even if he did discover another land, that he could study later. He had also broken the first rule he was given as a child! Oh, his family should have known, he only causes trouble! Not even skilled as a rancher, he brings shame to the family!

"How quiet you've become..." the ancient hero remarked, bringing Zanril back to his senses. "I was just wondering," the tundra began, "why is it you've come with me, here? Surely I must have disrupted you and the other heroes. Shall I expect a punishment?" Zanril gave his best impression of ancient, fantastical talk.

"Not a punishment, young one, I am simply satisfying my curiousity. I haven't met a tundra around this place, recently as my memories go. What brings you here, night-colored one?"

"Oh, I've only strayed from my path. I was born here, in the Serenity village and my mother and siblings are tundras too." The younger responded shyly.

"Truly?" Mare inquired, "and your mother, is she a child of the village aswell? Or did she wonder here?" "Mother? Well my mother was not born here, she mo- I mean joined the village after an unjust trial led by Arcying.." Zanril's voice gradually lowered as the realization of who he's unwillingly badmouthing fell on him.

"The royal Arcying?" Surprised the ancient one. "Are you quite sure?" Mare's voice got suddenly distant, Zanril was quick to correct himself: "My mother believes the pressure put on the king had been the issue. Pressure by a coup..." the tundra quivkly continued.. "Yet it would be unfair of me to judge, it happened years before my birth."
Displeased with the accusation but recognizing minimal fault in the boy, Mare went to question Zanril's tribe and current family status. It wasn't surprising for the ancient one how a title could be lost in a matter of seconds, royalty turning to farmers.

The armoured one has not experienced much of the life of farmers and while he held respect for the ones providing food for the herd, he never really gave their lives much thought. Now, tired and experienced, he seems to turn as curious as a foal, at the slightest mention of something new.

Yet, curiosity or not. He felt the aura of his brothers and fellows stir, indicating he had been away for long enough.

The dragon tasked the smaller one with remembering and noting all he knew about the kind of life and then only patted his back as they parted...

"Wait!" Zanril quickly reddened at his own outburst. The older one ceased with his return. "When am I to give you my notes? Or..." The tundra was unsure about the following, so he decided to ask quickly before mentally correcting himself.

"Come in ten days, around noon. I'll be waiting..."
...
The event would not leave Zanril's mind for the day. Tacet'Mare, an ancient one, an ancestor, spoke to him. And it was not even his initiation. He could have just been killed for mere wandering into the valley, yet not only did the warrior spare him, but the dark one was also interested in his life.

"Oh my lords, don't let me mess this up." prayed the Tundra as he pulled out a pergamen and started dutifully documenting...

...
The dawn colored the sky on the ninth day of Zanril's new quest. The colors of the clouds blended , like the fear and excitement in the heart of the Tundra. Being a hero's companion, even if just for a conversation, cause an adrenaline he has never felt before...

With a sigh, he closed the deep blue book. The piece contained all his notes. From very detailed theory about caring for cattle. To the best farming fertilizers and where to find them... Little did the blue one know, the main interest of the imperial couldn't be contained in a book...

As noon approached, the restless dragon snuck out into the garden, which an excuse about checking the crops. The tundra knew it was going to work, because no one gave a side glance, even if he hadn't arrived home at all one day. Such is the curse of large families.

And as he traveled to the village gate, mentally preparing his presantation, he hadn't even noticed a small shadow watching him from a nearby tree."
...
This noon he was awaited by the powerful imperial and his glint of curiosity, yet as the teen came into view, Tacet'Mare couldn't keep in his glee.