Borybran said, “Now, we could simply depart, our current wishes accomplished, many girgs saved from that nasty little curse.”
“But you have a better idea, by the Glottdrossitēs thought processes!” said Itharieth.
“The gods whose names you profane are unknown to academic theology,” said Borybran.
“I should hope so, by the Curriestaevology’s spurious mythology! They are surely happier that way.”
“As you say. I propose another bit of an experiment. Let us write an accurate summary of our deeds in vast letters on a mountainside, in breath-melted letters. It will at least give the girgs something to think about as they build their civilization. Perhaps they will welcome the next dragons as prophecied deities.”
So Mount Mehtenvu was duly shaved into a seven-sided pyramid by the efforts of Fraxtseng the stone mage. A pleasant little essay was composed about the history of eyeworms, the nature of the girgods, and the beneficience of the dragons. It was translated carefully into the seven major written languages of Girgar, carefully including three from distant continents, and written upon the mountain. And signed, of course, with a profile view of a dragon.
“It will be interesting to see what becomes of that,” said Borybran. “If nothing else, scholars a grand-year hence will be able to translate all of these languages, if they can understand any one of them.”Support this project! Show that you’re reading it by exchanging notes with the characters, other readers, the writer, and occasional other entities at sythyry.livejournal.com. And/or buy Bard Bloom’s books on Amazon, especially Mating Flight and World in My Claws, the prequel to this story. Also: Glossary and Dramatis Personae.