Dragons have been selected for conservation. I read as much in this morning’s newspaper.
“The yellow dragons once inhabiting the Margrell district aren’t seen in Doran anymore, after all.”
“I guess we should be glad it happened before they became a thing of legends.”
I’m resting on a log in Harré’s backyard with my coworkers, Cheena and Zozo among them. We’re reading a newspaper together while snacking.
The rest area looks neat; the gardener trimmed the lawn just a short while ago. What would we do without that old man? He must’ve planted new flowers; there are yellow qwincas blooming in the flower bed.
I take a lap blanket lying in a messy state on a two-person bench and pull it over my shoulders.
“Now that they’re considered endangered, we have to turn down dragon-related requests,” I say with a steamed eddo in my mouth, pointing at the newspaper article.
Dragons are relatively harmless unless provoked, but they sometimes ravage nearby towns if they go hungry, so many countries hunt them. They’re believed to be slow to breed, so their numbers have been whittled down to the point where we rarely see them at all. I thought they’d simply stopped approaching human settlements, but given the news they must be really nearing extinction. How’s that for a reality check?
Plus, you never know if humans will remain at the top of the food chain forever.
“Um, Miss Parasta, how did your marriage meeting go?” Cheena suddenly broaches the subject as the three of us idly sit around.
My eyes snap to Zozo. This topic is what’s on everyone’s minds at the moment, and yet we haven’t been able to ask her about it. Cheena, the hero of the moment, draws close to Zozo and swarms her with questions like, “Was he handsome?” and, “Was he a good person?” Meanwhile, Zozo’s eyes look dull and sapped of life.
“Ch-Cheena...” I quietly call out to her and place a hand on her shoulder, but even before my hand reaches its destination, Zozo opens her mouth.
“There’s not much to say. We said some flattery to each other and that was the end of it. It was the worst and most boring moment of my life. And I’m pretty sure it was the same for the other party.”
Everyone’s attempts to stop Zozo from going into that meeting the other day proved fruitless, much to her own eventual dismay.
“If I ever have to go again, I’ll leave the country!” she exclaims, huffing. “I’m done with romance for the time being. You girls keep at it. Especially you, Nanalie.”
“Please don’t single me out like that... Cheena, you keep at it.”
“Ehh, Miss Nanalie!”
The three of us sip our honey tea.
✦ ✦ ✦
The recent news has led to a new posting on Harré’s notice board. It’s a reminder for clients that we don’t accept requests for dragon scales or anything related to species selected for conservation. Following Director Locktiss’s instructions, we’ve written several copies of it and will have them hang on various walls for a few weeks. For example, in the canteen, you’ll find them on the counter and the partition walls between seats, and some will be on walls in the waiting area and at the entrance to the guild.
I walk around Harré with ten-plus copies in my arms. As I say hello to the guild’s visitors, occasionally someone asks for a copy and I oblige. A sorcerer of the same age as me says he’s never seen a dragon, and I reply, “Me neither,” with an awkward smile. Young people display great curiosity about the subject, since they’ve never seen these creatures, but the older folks, who have, seem deeply moved by the news as they stand with open newspapers in their hands and discuss the matter.
“It’s been so long since we last had requests to slay dragons...” says a sorcerer.
“Man, I feel so old now...” replies another one with a white beard, holding a hand to a scar on his face and looking melancholic.
Time and living things are inseparably connected, and the same goes for people’s memories.
Still, I know someone this news is going to be a problem for. As the smell of delicious roasting meat enters my nostrils, I stare at the papers in my arms, a particular client on my mind.
“Miss Hel.”
“Yes? Oh, Mr. Petros!”
As I head outside to put up one of the papers, someone calls out to me, and when I turn around, I see a doctor with a shopping bag in hand. It appears he was headed to the client reception. He has an itemized form in hand.
I lead him where he needs to go. The client reception’s currently staffed by a lone newcomer, so I call out to him and sit beside him. It appears Ms. Nickee, who’s in charge of training new recruits, is off to the restroom, so I decide to, well, not exactly take on her duties, but at least help the rookie with the work until she returns.
What stands out about this boy, other than his silky chestnut hair, is his calm and relaxed manner. His name is Janus Telaroyde. Special ability—whistling. He showed it off in the backyard the other day, and let me tell you, the guy’s really got talent.
“How may I help you, Mr. Petros?”
“I’ve been thinking of possible substitutes to use in my medicines, and here’s what I’ve come up with,” he says with a grave look, presenting the list I saw in his hand.
Mr. Petros used to place orders for the dragon scales he needed for heart medicine. You could still find those in dragon lairs in the Margrell district at the time, but now, even if they’re completely gone from the kingdom and have left for neighboring countries, we can’t tread on their territory anymore. Not to mention the possession of dragon body parts is now outlawed.
“These other scales might not be as effective as dragon ones, but I’m thinking they could prove similar enough.” According to the doctor, his heart medicine requires something extremely durable. “And so, I was thinking of merpeople scales...”
“Merpeople?!” I shout in reply, raising suspicion around me before covering my mouth and hanging my head.
With sparkling eyes, Mr. Petros places a book before me. On the cover is a person who is a fish below the waist—a mermaid. I don’t have to read the contents to know what this book is about. The doctor leafs through it and claims their scales should do the job, sounding much more earnest all of a sudden compared to how he was a minute ago.
Setting aside whether they’d prove a good substitute, I have to wonder how one could come to possess such scales. It’s not like they’re lying around like dragon scales used to be, and I can’t imagine you could just peel them off the merpeople’s lower halves, all things considered.
The doctor says they’re slightly inferior to dragon scales, but according to the book, their properties are nearly identical.
Since this would mean bringing goods in from abroad, we would also need the MCFT’s approval.
“I hear they wash ashore on rare occasion,” adds Mr. Petros, as if sensing my concerns. He has the book open again.
The Land of the Sea, where merpeople live, is located in an area of the ocean known as Coquille. The surface country closest to it is the Kingdom of Seleina, which we can also reach without too much trouble. It may be impossible to carry those scales directly from the Land of the Sea, but the same can’t be said about taking the scales that wash up on Seleina’s shores. However, since it’s Seleina’s territory, we would also need to head there and get their permission, separately from getting MCFT’s approval.
Seleina has a place like Harré, but instead of going there, we’d need to approach their royal office—a place where people come to petition the king both directly and indirectly—to submit a written application. If you get permission there, the paperwork gets simplified, which would at least make subsequent deals with Seleina more straightforward.
Each of these steps will certainly come with a commission, as Mr. Petros is well aware.
Okay, looks like we have a course of action ready.