The Importance Of Earnest Truth-Seeking

20251127

Written for Hazel's "The Enchanted White-Board" challenge.

I must make it clear that I would normally never interact with an obviously magical artefact. Which this shiny, almost shimmering white rectangle certainly was; even if it hadn’t been pride of place in an ancient magical study its nature was clear.
Perhaps the impacts I’d suffered sliding down that unexpected sinkhole addled my mind. No, that alone wouldn’t have led me to the unnatural chalkboard, though concussion would render me susceptible to magical compulsion.
Regardless of what forces drove me, I staggered through the study with barely a glance at the book-lined shelves, the priceless treasure I’d sought for weeks. I’d snuck across borders, dodged warring armies of mercenaries, and even ventured into the uncharted depths of the dunes hoping to find just a scrap of my ancestors’ lost wisdom. Now I couldn’t even pause to admire them.
My hands, clumsy as if half-frozen, fumbled off my dust-scoured gloves and let them drop to the floor in favour of picking up some slick tube, a similar eerie white to the not-chalkboard. Was it wood? It had that warm to the touch feel, yet was impossibly smooth. Metal-wood.
I twisted off one end to reveal a vivid blue, rich as lapis. The tube shifted in my hand, settling almost like a quill, and I was filled with the irresistible urge to draw something. Anything.
With no target in mind, I tried a few lines. Amazing! The ink flowed like water, the tube dancing effortlessly across the board.
Gazing at the swooping line, my fancy declared it a dragon’s back. No sooner had that thought formed than my hand was bringing it to life. A graceful, strong form. Powerful wings. A broad reptilian face open wide in a roar. Then, in a slower more idle fashion, ears and horns and a crest down its back.
Just as I was pondering further detailing the board flashed, blinding me. The tube dropped from my hand as the compulsion vanished.
I stumbled backwards as my drawing rippled and contorted. The dragon’s movements were ungainly, unnatural even, but I swiftly realised it was running towards me.
With the glowing board my only source of light I couldn’t see a door, and the shaft I’d fallen in from was far too steep to climb even if I could reach the ceiling. The dragon was almost upon me; I had to act fast.
Grabbing a stool, which though thankfully sound did not feel an adequate weapon, I backed away as far as I could - just as the dragon tumbled out of the board onto the floor with an undignified grunt.
It hauled itself up, horns almost brushing the ceiling, blinked at me, and let out a series of guttural noises which sounded almost like speech.
I remained motionless, my mind blank with fear.
The dragon tilted its head and let out another, entirely different set of sounds. Then warbling. Then elaborate clicks.
Hoping to soothe it, I croaked “Easy… easy…”
“Ah! Antique south peninsula common.” The dragon spoke. “Thank you.”
“Ahh??”
The dragon craned its head, inspecting its body with great interest. “Ooh, a dragon! That’s not so bad. Particularly since - well, not to be crass, but I feared I’d be stuck as some kind of, er, phallus. This is far better. Though,” it wiggled one paw in a testing manner, “I suspect turning pages will pose a challenge. Ah well.”
I wondered whether perhaps I’d hit my head far harder than I thought and was actually bleeding out on the floor. I wasn’t sure that was more troubling than having unleashed a gibbering dragon on the world. What kind of artefact was that board??
“Now. You look like you know your way around a library, hm?”
Taken aback, I nodded without thinking.
“Excellent!” The dragon beamed, a disconcertingly toothy expression. “I am… well, call me a scholar from the distant future. Yes. I sent my, er, ‘soul’ back in time to search for vital wisdom which has been lost to the ages. I need to peruse as many works as possible. Ideally stories. Can you help me with that, er…”
It covered its face with one wing. “Oh, where are my manners! I forgot to ask your name! Sorry. I was carried away by excitement at a research lead, I’m sure you understand…”
“I’m… Sam.” I opted not to give my full name, in case the dragon had magics over such.
“A pleasure, Sam! I am-”
The bubbling syllables were so beautiful they burned my ears. My fingers screamed to write them down but I knew any shape which can do them justice won’t fit in my mind.
“Ah. Yes. You are only mortal.” The dragon looked apologetic. “Let’s see… a rough translation would be ‘earnestly seeking the truth which resides between facts’. I don’t know if…”
With my mind still reeling, my mouth mumbled “Pleased to meet you, Earnest.”
The dragon tilted its head, then smiled. “I quite like that. Yes. Let’s go with ‘Earnest’ for now. Speaking of ‘now’, what do we have here…”
A guttural murmur and lights sprung to life around us.
“Aha! An excellent start. Have you reviewed these works?”
I shook my head.
“Oh. Of course.” Earnest looked back at the board, whose glow had dimmed, and coughed. “My apologies for the, er, abrupt and forceful nature of my request for help.”
I shrugged. This seemed to satisfy it. Him? Her??
I coughed and tentatively asked “Are, um, are you a man, then?”
“Oh, sometimes.” Earnest said in a disinterested tone.
“Sometimes? Y-you mean, when you’re not a dragon?”
“No, just… sometimes.” A dragon’s shrug is an impressive sight. “I am many things. Truth is almost boundless.”
That meant nothing to me.
Earnest examined my lost expression, then with a kindly chuckle said “Think of me as a man if it helps. You won’t be wrong. Now, friend,” he turned back to the books, “let us see what treasures slumber here!”

Prompt was “Thirty-years after Talos’ destruction, rumors of an enchanted artefact have drawn scavengers to the old kingdom’s ruins. Clashes break between opposing groups, but none of them take notice of you— a lone scholar whose quick on their feet.

After days of searching, you’re just about to give up the search when you slip and fall— sliding down the side of a hill and to your dismay… a concealed hole. Then, after what feels like an eternity of falling, you land safely at the bottom of the hole.

Taking in your surroundings, you realize you have fallen right into the study of a long abandoned dungeon. Centered towards the back of the room is a desk dimly lit by a candle. As you approach, you feel drawn to a rather odd item resting on the wooden desk— a glowing white-board.

You’ve never seen one of these before, but you immediately feel the urge to draw on it. Grabbing the marker sitting next to the white-board, you doodle something random, say… a dragon.

The white-board glows brighter, and in a flash of bright light… your new creation stands before you. A living, breathing dragon.”