Itzai

They heard the noble before they saw him: The Imperial’s steady tread shook the walls of their hut, and his adornments jangled. Ignoring their parent’s remonstrations not to stare, Itzai and his many siblings crowded around the window. They watched the finely-garbed nobledrake stride calmly past.

“Someday I’ll wear lovely clothes like that,” one of Itzai’s sisters sighed. He, for his part, had his eyes fixed on the Imperial’s glittering jewelry. He wouldn’t have liked to wear them—but there was something about the way they caught the light...

- - -
The bell above Itzai’s shop door chimed as the Snapper lumbered in. Her own jewelry swished: chains as fine as silk, draped over her embroidered robes like golden veils.

“Good morning, Master Itzai! I trust I’m not disturbing you?”

“Not at all, Madam Alexandra. It’s always a pleasure to serve you.” Itzai stepped up to the counter. Orange light bloomed behind him, and his familiar, a Glowing Globe, swooped over. It grinned down at the Snapper, who smiled benevolently back.

“Right,” Itzai began, “how can I help you today?”

- - -
Itzai’s family hailed from the Ashfall Waste. With there being so many children at home, there wasn’t always enough food to go around, so he and his siblings were encouraged to seek apprenticeships, and thence employment, with other dragons.

A few of Itzai’s older siblings found work in a forge. He often brought them food or gifts from home; at times he stayed, watching the smiths work and even running errands for them.

“You’ve got good eyes, boy. You see the work that needs to be done.”

“Thank you,” Itzai responded. He had just finished delivering a package to an old Guardian, and as she sank her claws into it, the wrapping tore. Golden chains spilled across the counter.

“What’s your name?” As she lifted her head, Itzai had to swallow a gasp—instead of a Fire dragon’s orange eyes, her own eyes were glowing, actually giving out light. They shone within the shadows of her cowl.

But that wasn’t what made him gasp—not that her eyes were strange. It was because they weren’t—for Itzai had similar eyes, from which jets of flame erupted. His siblings and parents didn’t have the same eyes, and many dragons had commented on them.

“I see you sometimes at the forge. Always watching, always learning. Well, boy,” and she smiled, “how would you like to learn from a master?”

- - -
Itzai upended a cloth bag. Gems spilled out onto the countertop: rubies, tourmaline, diamonds... “Tell me, Madam, what colors adorn your niece’s hide?”

“Ah, she’s sort of auburn and has these lovely, pale purple blotches....Perhaps some amethysts or agates? I’ve heard they’re good for protection, against evil enchantments and such.”

“I am strictly a jeweler, Madam. You will have to visit a thaumaturge if you wish to enspell the diadem.” Itzai answered calmly enough, though his mane bristled a bit. “Magic can be...complicated.”

- - -
The Guardian, Orlha, was a jeweler, and Itzai’s siblings, who had known of his interest in apparel, had referred her to him. She had been watching him carefully, had eventually decided that he was suited for the job.

Itzai, with his fiery belly, had an advantage Orlha lacked: he had a forge he could carry anywhere. Orlha taught him magical techniques so that he could manipulate the heat of this forge, in addition to using it to create adornments.

“There’s only so much I can teach you about magic, however,” she warned. Other shops had ghost stories; the jeweler’s other apprentices instead whispered of strange magic and how it brought their wares to life. As with ghost stories, Itzai thought that these were just tales engineered to scare newbies. Until the day it happened to him...

- - -
Some weeks later, Alexandra’s order was ready for pickup. Itzai unwrapped it: a diadem wrought of gold, flashing with amethysts and rubies.

Alexandra let out a wistful sigh. “Gorgeous as always, Master Itzai! My niece will love it—if I can get it to her before the wedding, it might even become a part of her outfit! Although...I would love to try it on...” Her eyes grew a little bit misty.

Itzai laughed gently. “Yes, that will be a good way to test it. Let us see how it looks.”

As he placed it on Alexandra’s head, the metal warmed beneath his fingers. It was the warning signal that enchantment was afoot....

“It is as light as a feather!” Alexandra gushed. As Itzai watched, a faint wash of golden light spread down from the diadem. It encompassed the old Snapper so that her scales shone bright and glossy and her clothes shimmered like a prism. Her golden chains were suddenly almost blinding; she became almost blinding as the tiara enhanced her appearance a hundredfold.

“Yes,” Itzai sighed in relief, “a lovely gift for a new bride.” He plucked the diadem away before Alexandra saw herself in the mirror. The light receded; she was her usual sedate self once more.

- - -
He asked Orlha about the things he’d seen: rings glowing in the darkness, bracelets that cured poison... “But we’re not doing it on purpose, are we?”

“No,” the old Guardian admitted, “and I’m not entirely sure the magic comes from us sometimes. Metal in a forge breathes; it pulses gently in the fire...

“Perhaps it’s not magic. Perhaps things are alive, and we’re simply waking them up. What they do afterwards is up to them, of course, and as jewelers,” she grinned roguishly at him, “we ought to see that they look darn good doing it.”

Itzai remembered the splendor he’d seen, dragons draped in chains and gems, themselves as brilliant as the gods. Magic was complicated; beauty was something he understood. He bowed in appreciation to his teacher and returned to the forge where his next project lay, waiting to wake up to a beautiful new world.

~ written by Disillusionist (254672)
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