The corridor was dimly lit by wall sconces that flickered with dying flames. The caretakers had yet to refuel the oil making for a shadowy skulk through the keep. It wasn’t as if looking for a ghost wasn’t spooky enough. Thankfully her low light vision allowed her to see what the paling illumination ignored.

“Hello?”  She called out into the dark. 

Only the sound of her echoing steps answered back. 

“Lady Miirym? Are you here?” She called out again. 

There was a sound of rushing wind as if all the air in the hallway had been drawn out. 

“I recognize your scent adventurer.” A hollow voice resonated through her. “You assisted in repelling the most recent invaders so I granted you passage in my halls. But I’m curious… Why do you venture here now? To disturb me? Is it foolishness or folly?”

“Neither great wyrm.” She answered politely. “I was hoping you might grant me an audience, perhaps the boon of conversation if you deem me worthy to be in your presence.”

“It pleases me that at the very least you are a well mannered young lady. What do they call you?”

“Arabess. Arabess Ilixkret of Beregost, well more properly the Esoterica Magica.”

Very well Arabess Ilixkret of the Esoterica Magica. Follow the passage until you arrive at a crossway. Bear right until you reach the gilded arch. You’ll find me in the chamber beyond.”

“Thank you great wyrm.” She answered as the corridor drew silent once more. 

She followed the path as the ghost dragon directed until she reached the archway described. Set into the stone were runes written in the tongue of dragons that read “Miirym the Silent Sentinel. The Great Silver Wyrm.” She lingered for a moment at the entryway peering through the arch into the massive room on the other side. 

“Enter human.” Braziers took to flame washing the room with a warm orange glow. 

Arabess slowly made her way into the chamber, careful to be respectful of the undead dragon’s lair. Head bowed, she stepped to the center of the space. Shelves of books reaching a hundred feet high or more lined the circular walls. Several large planters of green ferns offered a pleasant aesthetic to the interior design. 

Arabess kept her gaze low to the floor as she knelt. “I am humbled by your grandeur, great wyrm and grateful for the generosity you have bestowed upon me.”

“Rise child and see me as I am.”

Arabess eased her way to her feet bringing her eyes forward as she did, all the while still maintaining a slight bow. What greeted her was a grand visage. The translucent form of a spectral dragon. She could make out the detailed form of the silver dragon, it’s mohawk frill, the goatee of chin spikes and the many large teeth in the dragon’s maw as it smiled upon her. Arabess had never seen a dragon beyond the artistic renderings in the books she studied. She was in absolute awe of the being before her. Eyes wide all she could say was “whoa”.

This seemed to amuse the ghostly dragon as its smile widened even more. 

“Am I everything you’d imagine I’d be?” She asked with an air of haughtiness. 

“More so great wyrm than I could have ever dreamed.”

“I think I like you Arabess. You may call me Miirym.”

“Thank you. That’s most gracious.”

“It is. So now you’ve found me. What did you wish to talk about?”

“If you’ll indulge me Miirym. I’d like to hear about you, to learn your story.”

The silver dragon eyed her for a few tense moments measuring her. It may as well have been an eternity as Arabess held her breath waiting for a response.

“Very well. But I’d like something in return.”

“Of course. But I’m not sure I have anything to offer that you might value. I’m an orphan Miirym and have little in the way of wealth.”

The ghostly apparition shook its head. “You possess the greatest treasure of all. Freedom. Even in death I may not leave this place. I remember a time when I could. At least I think I do. Sometimes. I would have stories of what you have seen outside these walls, of the events you have participated in and experienced.”

“But I’m so insignificant. I’m sure you must have seen more than I ever will.” 

“It was more a millennium ago when I last traveled the realm, child. The world changes. This place does not. Please me with your tales and I might just teach you a few things about yourself that even you may not yet know. Do we have an accord?”

“Yes. Thank you!” Arabess said excitedly. 

“Splendid! I’ll begin.” The spectral dragon whooshed around the chamber before settling again in her resting place. “Long ago, greater than twenty of your lifetimes I came upon this keep and thought, as all dragons do, that by chance, there could be treasures within that most assuredly would be better placed in my hoard than beneath these stone walls. As I rummaged through the many worthless trinkets and baubles stored in the keep, I was beset upon by droves of boorish humans who did not recognize the legitimacy of my claim. Their hostile and aggressive behavior left me no choice but to punish them for their disrespect. As I prepared to depart from the keep, an archmage came to me in supplication asking if I would afford them the opportunity to make amends with me. I saw this gesture of good faith meant a lot to the humans and so in a remarkable display of benevolence, I agreed. Unfortunately over the years the magic in my blood melded with the magic of this place, inexorably binding me to the keep. Sadly the archmage died attempting to undo the arcane link. In recognition of his great sacrifice I decided to remain here to protect that which he held so dear, even after death.”

Arabess sat in quiet amazement at the tale as it was told by Miirym. She had read a very different account of the story but hearing from the dragon’s perspective was an enlightening insight into the psychology of a dragon and its world view. “Thank you for sharing Miirym. It was a truly remarkable tale.”

The spectral dragon nodded. “Now you. Speak to me of where you are from. What is it like to live at a school?”

“It’s not so bad I guess. In some ways it’s quite like living here, the academia, the dorms. Places like this are very near their own little towns. I would say the biggest difference is that my small town lives inside another and life is much different in the two. At the Esoterica we have our studies of course and chores but all of our necessities are provided for us. Though I’d be lying if I said I failed to recognize that not all of the students receive equitable financial consideration. Myself and Cal…”

“Who’s Cal?” The dragon asked. 

“My friend. He’s an orphan too. We’ve spent our entire lives at the Esoterica growing up together. And while we have the good fortune of being provided with allowances and expenses for things like clothing and study materials others do not. Like my other friend Eva.” 

“I see. So is Cal born of dragons as well? Perhaps it’s as simple as you two receiving your just due.”

“Born of dragons?” I don’t understand…”

“You’re a sorceress am I correct?”

“I am but…”

“Most sorcerers claim to have a hint of dragonkind hidden in their humanity but more often they do not. Even when they speak true, it is so diluted that most are more likely to be charlatans rather than true practitioners of magic. You however have a rather noticeable scent about you. I can smell your heritage from halfway across the keep. I’ve seen you fight Arabess. You have our ability to breath destruction on your enemies and I’ve felt your aura. While but a mere shadow of a true dragon’s power it is nonetheless impressive for a human. So this Cal of yours… He is a sorcerer too? Does he share your lineage?”

“Cal? Sorcerer? No.” She laughed. “He’s a bard. And as awful as he is in translating draconic runes I can’t imagine he descended from dragons.”

“Oh.” Miirym said with disappointment. “That is unfortunate.”

“What did you mean by heritage?”

The silver ghost shook her head impatiently. “Another day perhaps. Tell me about something more interesting. What have you done for fun?”

“Well there was this dance…” Arabess began as she relayed the story of the recent formal held at the Bardic College. The dragon held her gaze with intense interest as she described the hall, made tell of the food and libations and recounted the events, interrupting only when she made mention of her date.

“The triangle is not an instrument. It’s a clanging piece of metal. What self respecting bard would play the triangle? You’re the blood of dragons Arabess, it’s rather unseemly for you to be in the company of such a fop. You should have frozen him and been done with it.”

Arabess cracked a smile. “I don’t think that would have gone over well. I would have gotten in quite a bit of trouble.”

“Perhaps you are right my young friend. I forget that unlike me you are not above human judgement. Not yet at least…” 

The dragon tilted her head in curiosity. 

“Why did your friend… What’s his name?” The dragon paused in thought… “Oh yes Cal. Why did he not ask you to the dance?”

Arabess tensed for a second. “Cause he’s a jerk.”

“Should I devour him?”

“No. No. Please no!” She answered back frantically. “He’s a jerk but he’s my friend. My best friend. Besides… I really don’t care.” She said with more than a taste of indignation in her mouth.

The Silver Dragon grinned. “Don’t you? I see a touch of our covetous nature in you Arabess. I like it.”

The young sorceress looked away. The sudden silence was broken by the grumbling of her stomach. Arabess had no idea how long she’d been down here but it was clear it had been quite some time since she had a meal.

“You should get something to eat, child. Return to me tomorrow and we can continue our conversation.”

“Thank you Miirym. I’ll be looking forward to it.”

“Of course you will.” The ghost dragon smiled.

Arabess bowed politely and exited the chamber. She found her way back to the dining hall where her friends had already gathered to eat. She hastily made a plate of food and joined them.

“You’re not going to believe where I just spent the day!” She gushed, unable to contain herself.

“Not learning to play the triangle I hope.” Cal said with a smirk.

The young sorceress glared at him, her eyes turning blue, the color of a cold winter frost. 

“No.” She snarled. “Actually I found a spell that can ward away crows so you can let Kylee sleep inside from now on. It won’t cure the sour milk from her breath though.” She stared at him for a moment daring him to retort.

The words sat ready on the young bard’s tongue but he thought better of it and swallowed them instead. 

“Come on Bessie. You know I was just having some fun with ya.”

“UmHm. Maybe I should have let the dragon devour you.” She pouted. “And don’t call me Bessie!”

“Wait.. Did you say dragon?” Eva cut in.

“Can’t be. There are no dragons here.” An’ric added. “Right?”

“Actually there is An’ric, well at least the ghost of one, a great wyrm named Miirym. We had a lovely conversation today.” She turned to Cal. “And she thinks you’re a jerk too.”

“Hey. how would she…”

“Anyway. She told me the whole story of how she came to reside here, well from her perspective at least. Her story doesn’t quite mesh with the one written about her in “Candle Keep Mysteries.”

“Wait. So you spent the day talking to the ghost of a dragon. Sounds awfully dangerous.” Eva said with some worry in her voice.

“I have to be honest. I was really nervous when I went looking for her. She said she smelled my heritage in my blood so she allowed me to enter her lair to talk. She wanted to hear tales of the outside world so I told her about the dance at the bardic college. She said I was descended from dragons but wouldn’t tell me any more.”

“Don’t most sorcerers say that?” An’ric asked.

“Yeah. I know. But it does make sense considering my affinity for dragons and the way my powers mimic theirs.”

“True. I can’t argue that.” Cal said. “And you certainly have a knack for runes.”

Arabess smiled and seemed to straighten.

“Anyway. She invited me back tomorrow.”

“And you’re going?” Eva asked.

“Yeah of course. I feel like I should bring her a gift…”

“What do you get for a ghost dragon?” Cal wondered out loud.

One of Candle Keeps acolytes overheard the bard and chimed in. “Ahh you’ve discovered the Silent Sentinel of Candle Keep! The great silver wyrm Miirym who makes her lair down below… though she has the run of the entire grounds. It is said she has an appreciation for greenery if that helps, young lady.” He bowed and continued on his way.

“There’s an arboretum in the courtyard Bess. I was studying plants there earlier. They have a small storefront. I’m sure you could find something there.”

“Thanks Ev. I’ll have a look after dinner.”

The following morning Arabess hurriedly dressed and returned to the chamber where she had met the apparition the previous day. She was just outside when the spectral voice called out to her. 

“Welcome Arabess. Do come in.”

The young sorceress clumsily entered,teetering from side to side, as the rather large planter threatened to drive her off balance. 

“What have you there?” The dragon questioned.

“It’s a gift, Miirym. I purchased it from the arboretum. It’s called a peace lily. The master herbalist said it’s known for purifying the air. I thought it might bring you a measure of tranquility. I hope you like it.”

The dragon’s eyes lit up with a lurid silver glow. “Bring it closer.” She smiled greedily.

Arabess walked it over to where the phantasmal creature floated just above the marble floor.

“It’s splendid. Well done Arabess. Well done indeed. Set it there by that purple fronded fern. That’s it. Perfect. I am quite pleased with you child.”

“I’m humbled to hear it. What shall we discuss next?”

“Sit here. Tell me of your childhood. What was it like growing up at your school?”  

Arabess spent the better part of the morning reminiscing about her days as a child being raised in the Esoterica. Some were fond memories that made her smile as she spoke.others so sad she nearly teared up. “I know it shouldn’t… “ She sniffled. “But it still bothers me that I was abandoned. Why did my parents not want me?”

“Perhaps they were heroes killed in some conflict?” The dragon offered in consolement.

“The headmaster said as much but I feel like he’s not telling me the whole truth, like he’s holding something back. I don’t know… I guess I should be happy to be fostered there. If not I would never have met my friends…It’s just… When the holidays come and the other students leave, it can feel kind of empty. I’ve never known what it’s like to be part of a real family.” 

“Family is more than just those who birthed us Arabess. Silver dragons live in clans and though we may have been born of different parents and even other clans once bound we are very much a family. I would argue it is the same for you and your friends”

“Yes well. I’m no silver dragon…”

“Aren’t you? Do you think it’s pure happenstance that you are able to produce a breath weapon and that the effect is cold? That the protective auras you generate and even the ability to heal are a typical occurrence among human casters? No child. Yours is the blood of dragons. And those abilities are gifts of your silver heritage.I am certain one of your ancestors must have been my kin.”

Arabess flushed. “Do you really think?”

“I am a great wyrm child, I know what I smell and recognize what I see.”

“No one will believe it. They’ll think I’m mad.’

“There are some that think the same of me. Do you believe me to be insane?”

“No Miirym. Of course not.”

“Good. I would like to share something with you Arabess. I will teach you a power rare among sorcerers and impossible to learn by those not of the blood. The basics of your magic is a skill taught early to all sorcerers…unleash the arcane power within and make it manifest. But what if this inner power was to be amplified? What if one could expand on what was already there? Through conjuring and focusing all of one’s magic energy it is possible to unlock greater potential. Now, this takes rare discipline and devotion to the arcane but the results are nothing short of astounding. Are you willing to do the work?”

Arabess bowed. “I would be honored to learn if you will teach me.”

The ghost dragon smiled. “Go. Get a bed roll. You’ll be spending your time here now until you master this power.”

Arabess darted from the chamber rushing back to her room and collecting her things. She scribbled a note for Cal and ran full sprint back to the Silver dragon’s lair. The next few days were filled with exercises and meditations. The ghost dragon afforded her barely enough time to sleep and her meals brought to her. The spectre would use the respite she granted her to eat to hear more tales of the outside world from her new friend. Once she was fed the training would continue.

​”Do it again.” said Miirym in an encouraging tone. Arabess picked herself up from the stone floor, rubbing her backside. As part of the young sorceress’ training regiment, she needed to be taught proper form before unlocking new magic could be introduced to the technique. Without proper form, the suppressed arcane energy might backfire, not only sending the caster to the ground, but the pressurized arcane could explode, leaving a far more disastrous result. 

Arabess went through the motions again to summon the arcane within her. 

​Miirym gazed over Arabess, contemplating the technique before she spoke.

​”Better.” she finally admitted. “You must not be overconfident despite the fact it is in your blood to be so. Remember your basics and practice them often.” 

On the day before Arabess was to depart Candle Keep the ghost dragon flew high into the stack of books and returned with a libram written in draconic.

“This is the book of the dragon pantheon. I’ve opened it to the section discussing Her Beneficence, Tamara, the dragon goddess of life, light mercy and forgiveness. She is a silver dragon.” Miirym announced proudly. “I would like you to learn all about her while you’re away. Sadly I can not permit you to take it with you so you’ll have to transcribe it.”

Arabess looked at the chapter in the libram. “There must be a hundred pages.”

“One hundred and twelve.” Miirym grinned.

Arabess nodded her head then reached into her pack withdrawing a book of blank parchment, ink and a handful of quills. She spent the evening scribbling the text with very few breaks and even forsaking sleep. When she had completed the task she closed the new volume and started rubbing her cramping hand.

Miirym glided over her shoulder nodding her approval. “Well done. Well done indeed.” Suddenly her eyes narrowed. “Is that a book Arabess?”

The young sorceress wore a look of confusion. “A copy of a book. The one you asked me to transcribe.”

“Why would you do such a thing?” The dragon asked mildly agitated.

“You told me to.” Arabess answered.

“Yes but you’ve created a book and all books must remain here in the keep.”

“Then why would you have me transcribe it?”

“How else are you to study it when you’re gone?” The dragon countered.

“But I can’t take it with me.”

“No I’m afraid not.” 

“So how do I study it?”

“You must transcribe it.”

“But then I’ll be creating a book and won’t be able to take it with me.”

“No of course not. We’ve already discussed that all books must remain here.”

“Then why would I transcribe it?”

“Honestly child, sometimes you make no sense. How else are you to study it?”

“But?”

“I’m sorry Arabess you seem confused. Perhaps the training caused quite a bit of strain on your mind. I think you should rest for a bit.”

“Yes of course.” She sighed. “That must be it. 

She curled up into a ball cradling her aching hand and fell asleep. She awoke a short time later to find the dragon slumbering as well. She reached for the tome and began to read. With the turn of a page the dragon’s eyes flashed open.

“I didn’t think ghosts needed to sleep.”

“They don’t. Need and choice are very different things.” Miirym answered with a curious look on her face. “Are you sure you’re well enough to continue child.”

Arabess smiled. “Of course Miirym. Thank you for your concern though.”

The dragon nodded.

Arabess read the chapter again before closing it and sliding back toward the dragon.

“I’m afraid it’s nearly time for me to go, Miirym. Thank you for everything.” She smiled bringing her hand to her heart.

“Go wyrmling. See new things, visit new places then come visit me again. I shall look forward to hearing your tales.”

Arabess bowed politely. “Goodbye Miirym.”

“Farewell Arabess.”