Dermanassian crouched in the merchant's walled garden, watching the little
tree in its center. The tree's rough bark reflected the thin moonlight. Its sheer
ancientness was beautiful in itself, with none of the manufactured perfection of
the surrounding plants that smelled of orange and ginger. He could understand
the fascination the Ulumi had with the Dawn Tree, even though they did not
know what it truly was.
The clouds parted briefly and moonlight streamed down. He sunk into a patch
of shadow, watching the red-tiled rooftops again for signs of Bhetheri i’Bhet's
guards. But the jaded guards did not bother to walk the inner walls; they relied
heavily upon Bhetheri's well-earned notoriety. Thus, there were none to see
the desert elf hidden in the cool dark. He shifted the blue lotus sword's sheath,
freeing it from the folds of his gray cloak to lie more comfortably at his back.
Above him, the white dragonet that had become his constant companion hid
behind the broad, waxy leaves of a fruit tree. Its onyx eyes blinked nervously
as it stretched its long neck around to watch. Though it desperately wanted to
perch upon Dermanassian's shoulder and chitter its disapproval, it had learned
the wiser course was to stay put. It dug its talons into the bark of its perch and
ground its icicle-shaped teeth, waiting.
As Dermanassian turned back to the Dawn Tree, a tiny figure stood beside it.
Despite the night chill, she was clad in a sheer, multi-colored gown from which
peeked bare legs. Her auburn hair hung loose to her waist and her skin was
vaguely luminescent. She stretched in the moonlight with a deep sigh before
swinging into the tree gracefully to inspect each long bud and hum in
satisfaction. She unwrapped each corner, peeked inside, and then lovingly re-
rolled the blooms – each fully as large as she was.
"Pae," Dermanassian whispered, stepping into the moonlight.
Almost inaudibly, she gasped as her large green eyes widened and her hand flew
to her mouth. In an instant, she vanished, leaving only the aroma of flowers.
Dermanassian crept to the Dawn Tree, almost placing his bronze hand upon its
bark before remembering such an act might well be rewarded with poison
barbs.
"Lady Pae," he whispered urgently. "I have been sent for you."
Cold silence emanated from the tree. He pleaded for hours, but as the first glow
of day appeared in the sky, he could risk no more time. The merchant's
reputation promised that any intruder caught would be greeted with the most
arcane of punishments rather than turned over to city authority. Dermanassian
knew that any confrontation would result in the blue lotus sword slick with the
blood of guards simply trying to earn their pay.
With a sigh of impatience, the last of the desert elves and his dragonet melted
away with the night...
tree in its center. The tree's rough bark reflected the thin moonlight. Its sheer
ancientness was beautiful in itself, with none of the manufactured perfection of
the surrounding plants that smelled of orange and ginger. He could understand
the fascination the Ulumi had with the Dawn Tree, even though they did not
know what it truly was.
The clouds parted briefly and moonlight streamed down. He sunk into a patch
of shadow, watching the red-tiled rooftops again for signs of Bhetheri i’Bhet's
guards. But the jaded guards did not bother to walk the inner walls; they relied
heavily upon Bhetheri's well-earned notoriety. Thus, there were none to see
the desert elf hidden in the cool dark. He shifted the blue lotus sword's sheath,
freeing it from the folds of his gray cloak to lie more comfortably at his back.
Above him, the white dragonet that had become his constant companion hid
behind the broad, waxy leaves of a fruit tree. Its onyx eyes blinked nervously
as it stretched its long neck around to watch. Though it desperately wanted to
perch upon Dermanassian's shoulder and chitter its disapproval, it had learned
the wiser course was to stay put. It dug its talons into the bark of its perch and
ground its icicle-shaped teeth, waiting.
As Dermanassian turned back to the Dawn Tree, a tiny figure stood beside it.
Despite the night chill, she was clad in a sheer, multi-colored gown from which
peeked bare legs. Her auburn hair hung loose to her waist and her skin was
vaguely luminescent. She stretched in the moonlight with a deep sigh before
swinging into the tree gracefully to inspect each long bud and hum in
satisfaction. She unwrapped each corner, peeked inside, and then lovingly re-
rolled the blooms – each fully as large as she was.
"Pae," Dermanassian whispered, stepping into the moonlight.
Almost inaudibly, she gasped as her large green eyes widened and her hand flew
to her mouth. In an instant, she vanished, leaving only the aroma of flowers.
Dermanassian crept to the Dawn Tree, almost placing his bronze hand upon its
bark before remembering such an act might well be rewarded with poison
barbs.
"Lady Pae," he whispered urgently. "I have been sent for you."
Cold silence emanated from the tree. He pleaded for hours, but as the first glow
of day appeared in the sky, he could risk no more time. The merchant's
reputation promised that any intruder caught would be greeted with the most
arcane of punishments rather than turned over to city authority. Dermanassian
knew that any confrontation would result in the blue lotus sword slick with the
blood of guards simply trying to earn their pay.
With a sigh of impatience, the last of the desert elves and his dragonet melted
away with the night...
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| The Dawn Tree By SC Bryce |
Publication History |
Readers' Comments |
| "Great story!" A complex, well-evolved, well-thought out story..." "Reads easily..." "Smooth and flowing... "Very creative..."" "Perfect..." "Your descriptive powers are in full bloom here..." "You read very much like Robert E. Howard..." "I like the mood you set and the way you wove tension into each scene. It kept me engaged until the end." "This is just plain, flat out good writing..." "[You have] done your job well... fleshed out the characters, given them purposeful motivations, shown us their passion and their desire, and led us on an adventure... " |
First Printing:
Revenge of the Sword: An Anthology of
Heroic Adventure, Jason M. Waltz, ed.
(CyberWizard Productions 2008).
Revenge of the Sword: An Anthology of
Heroic Adventure, Jason M. Waltz, ed.
(CyberWizard Productions 2008).
Reviews |
| "It's a tale full of wonder and strangeness, charm and mystery, and absolutely fascinating..." Richard K. Lyon, co-author of novels Demon in the Mirror, The Eyes of Sarsis, The Web of the Spider, and Rails Across the Galaxy and author of numerous short stories, on The Dawn Tree. |
| "A well told, powerful story that reads like mythic fable. Perhaps a little out of place in a sword and sorcery anthology but it is good enough to hold its own and the two main characters have some outstanding scenes with each other. Our intrepid hero, Dermanassian the desert elf, takes up the quest of replanting the Dawn Tree by escorting the tree’s guardian to a suitable location. There’s one problem though; the four Elementals have joined forces in order to destroy the Tree before it is planted. This leads to a battle royale at the end but of course everything winds up happy. Or does it?..." Scriptorus Rex, on The Dawn Tree. |
| "That settles it; I must delve into the Flashing Swords archives and read some other Dermanassian tales. This was an unusual story written with style..." Wesley Lambert, The Star Road, on The Dawn Tree. |
| Impatient? Jump to... |
| ...also on this Page! |
| "The Dawn Tree" by S. C. Bryce offers some fine food for thought. Are we responsible for the results of our actions, whatever our intentions and understanding? Does one self-appointed man have the right, much less the mandate, to make decisions that will affect countless other people? Do the ends justify the means, and who gets to choose either means or end?..." Janice Clark, The Fix, on The Dawn Tree. |
| "The Dawn Tree" by S.C. Bryce is another story about betrayal, but this time about a hero being tricked into betraying himself. This was an excellent story, and Bryce’s concept of the Dawn Tree ushering in the new epoch is creative..." John Ottinger, Grasping for the Wind, on The Dawn Tree. |