FALCON'S PREY
by Kristina Coia

BONUS MATERIAL

The Story of Sir Norr the Centaur

How is it I came to be a dragon slayer, you ask? Young Princess Ana wondered the same thing when she first saw my tapestry upon the wall of the Layor Ecalap. Well, to tell the story, I have to start from the very beginning…

Surely it is uncommon for a centaur to be known for knightly deeds. We have mostly been remembered for the ways we have helped others with our magic. (Except for Sir Leonard the Uncoordinated. No one really wants to remember him…)

My story actually begins long ago in the kingdom of Anavrin, in my home of the Western Lands, when I was just a boy. (Actually, I was 87, which is a bit older than a boy in your eyes.) My home was within a centaur herd, who have lived in the Western Lands for centuries, and have always been able to avoid dragon attacks.

You see, our clan has always relied on our leader's magic to protect us. Our Alpha was a powerful magician and could calm any savage beast simply by playing his lyre. But, at the time, the Alpha had come down with a bad case of the Centaur Chills, a virus that makes even the warmest summer day seem frozen. The Centaur Chills are easy enough to cure; you must stay under exactly ten wool blankets, fast asleep, for precisely forty-eight hours.

When a small centaur foal spotted the dragon off in the distance, the entire herd fell into a panic. No one knew what to do! The only way they could be saved was if the lyre was played by someone with Bard-Magic, or the magic of song. But no one knew of any Bard-Magics but the Alpha! Not one centaur even knew how to play a lyre!

I was working as an apprentice to my uncle in his store which sold magic potions. Quite honestly, I didn't like potions very much. Who could possibly enjoy mixing brews made of bat wings and toad's warts? My secret love was music. I would often daydream about playing songs for kings and wizards alike, but I knew that my place was working in the potions shop.

That day, my uncle burst into the shop, shouting, "The Alpha needs some of my Quick Fix potion! He needs to play for the dragon! He needs to save the herd! He needs some Quick Fix potion! Quick! Quick!" He rushed past all his customers and into the storage room, nearly knocking over a shelf of Turn-Into-Frog potions. I excused myself from the front counter and went to see what my uncle was up to.

He was standing on the tips of his hooves, trying desperately to reach a blue-green jar on the very top shelf.

"Here, Uncle," I said. "I can reach it!" But my uncle was a stubborn centaur and wouldn't trust an apprentice to do his job.

"I can handle it, Norr," he said as he wobbled. The whole wall of shelves began to teeter as he leaned on them to get closer to the blue-green bottle. "Go back to the counter where you belong." The bottles began to quiver as my uncle reached higher. "You're just a foal, Norr," he said. The more he leaned on the shelves, the more they shook. "This is an important duty. I must hand-deliver the potion to the Alpha myself. It's no job for an apprentice!"

Just then, the shelves gave way, and dozens of jars of potions came crashing down. Sparks flew and smoke sizzled, rainbows of light exploded from the room in a magical storm. I threw my hands in front of my face. Customers poked their heads into the doorway to see what was going on.

When the smoke finally cleared, I looked around the room to see what the damage was. My uncle was no where to be found! I stepped carefully around broken jars, trying desperately not to step in the Swooning-Love potion or on the puddle of I-Can't-Believe-It's-Not-Glue. I was about to put my hoof down, when I heard…

Ribbet!

Oh, no.

Ribbet!

I reluctantly peered down to find that my uncle had been turned into a frog. What else could go wrong? Now, my uncle could never deliver the Quick Fix potion to the Alpha! What were we to do? The dragon was hardly two hours away!

Wait a minute. I could take the potion to the Alpha, myself! And then, maybe, my uncle could appreciate me as more than just an apprentice! But wait! What if the Quick Fix potion bottle was broken? I looked around.

No, that wasn't it.

No, that one was the Instant Oatmeal potion.

What was that in the corner? I leaned over and brushed away splinters of wood. It was the blue-green bottle, and it was still intact! I picked it up and placed it gently into my shirt pocket, then turned toward my now-frog uncle.

"Wish me luck, Uncle! I won't let you down!" I started to head out of the door, then turned back again. "I promise, when I get back, I'll try to change you back to a centaur."

Ribbet!

***

When I got to the Alpha's tent, I became nervous. I had never gone to the Alpha by myself before. He was very kind, but still, I felt uneasy. What if I said something wrong? But, before I could run away, a guard stepped out and addressed me.

"What is your business, son?" he asked.

"I-I've come from the potions shop, sir. I've brought some Quick Fix potion. My uncle thinks it will help to cure the Alpha."

"Well, then. Come in." The guard held open the door flap of the tent, and I stepped inside. The tent looked no different than my family's, and we were nowhere as wealthy. The Alpha slept on a plain sleeping mat, no bigger than mine. A few Medicine-Magic centaurs were gathered around, chatting quietly and writing on pieces of parchment.

One of them came over to me.

"Are you the one with the potion?" he asked.

I nodded my head.

"Well, I'm not sure it's going to work, but we'll try it anyway."

I nodded again and reached into my pocket, pulling out the bottle carefully. I handed it to the Medicine-Magic centaur, and he uncorked it. A thin wisp of blue-green smoke floated from the bottle, and suddenly, the whole room smelled like the ocean. The other two centaurs helped to pour some of the potion into the Alpha's mouth while he still slept.

We waited. And waited. And, finally, after one hour, one of the centaurs announced, "It didn't work." I sighed. How would we ever defeat the dragon now?

Then, something leaning against the wall caught my eye. I hadn't noticed it there before. It was the royal lyre, gold and glistening within a glass case. A crazy idea popped into my head.

What if I tried to play the lyre and calm the dragon? It probably would never work, but it was the only hope we had! But first, I had to distract everyone inside the tent. I thought fast.

"What was that noise?" I shouted. They all looked around.

"What noise, son?" one asked. "I didn't hear anything!"

"It's the dragon! The dragon is here!" I waved my arms. "Didn't you hear its mighty roar?"

"We must flee!" a Medicine-Magic centaur cried.

"No, we should fight!" shouted another.

The centaurs all argued in a panic, rushing outside to see where the dragon was. I crept over to the lyre and grabbed it, case and all, and headed out the back of the tent.

The glass case was heavier than I had expected. When I was far enough away from the tent, I knelt and opened the case. The lyre sparkled even brighter in the direct sunlight. I pulled it out and placed the carrying-strap around my neck. Then, quickly, I headed toward the forest, where I knew I would find the dragon.

***

"Why can't I get this right?" I asked no one in particular as I strummed the lyre's strings. I had been walking for a while, and had not yet reached the dragon.

"I've figured out how to play it, but it doesn't sound nearly as good as when the Alpha plays it! How am I ever going to calm the dragon, now?"

I was losing hope quickly. This idea was never going to work. I sat down on the damp forest floor in shame. I strummed the lyre's strings absently, waiting for the dragon to come and eat me. I would make a good appetizer before it ate the whole herd.

"That's not how you play the lyre," said a voice from behind. I turned around and saw no one except a little gray rabbit, sitting on its haunches.

"Who's there?" I called.

"Don't you have eyes? I'm right in front of you!" it said. I couldn't believe it. The rabbit just spoke to me. Was I really that crazy?

The little furry thing hopped over to where I sat. "You can't play a lyre like that! It's disrespectful! You should be ashamed!"

I stared at it wide-eyed. "How can you…"

"Talk?" it said. "Oh, I guess I'm still a rabbit. Sorry about that." And, with that, the rabbit transformed into a scrawny little boy, right before my eyes.

"Is this better?" he asked.

"Why…yes…I guess so…" I replied in astonishment.

"Good, then. Let me introduce myself. My name is Bernard, and I am a shape-shifter of the forest," the boy said.

"Oh! You're a shape-shifter! That does make sense," I said, still a bit bewildered. "My name is Norr."

"Well, then, Norr. I must teach you how to play the lyre properly," said Bernard.

"You know how to play?"

"Where do you think lyres come from, magic moths? My family makes them. It's our profession. We make all kinds of instruments for Bard-Magic centaurs," he explained. "Are you a Bard- Magic centaur? If you are, you're not very good at it."

"Actually," I began, "I'm not sure what type of magic I am. But I will find out soon enough. All centaurs find out eventually. But I'm sure I'll be a Potion-Magic centaur, just like my father and my uncle, and their father before them."

"Do you like potions?"

"Actually…well…no. I rather dislike them. But I have no choice!"

"Are you positive you'll become a Potion-Magic? Because centaurs don't often dislike the magic they receive. I think you look like a Bard-Magic. That is, if you try hard enough." Bernard spoke as if he were an expert. "Do you want to learn to play the lyre or not?"

"Of course I do! I know how to make a tune, but I can't seem to figure out how to make a song."

Bernard plopped down onto the ground beside me and held out his hand. I removed the instrument from around my neck and passed it to him.

"That's because the strings don't make a song. You do," he said. He strummed a few strings. "That's not a song. That's not music. Here," he said, and passed the lyre back to me. "You try it."

I looked down at the strings and then closed my eyes. I plucked one string, and then another. I tried very hard not to think about what my hands were doing, and focused on the song I was creating.

Soon enough, I heard beautiful music, not the silly little tune I had played before.

"You're doing it! You are a Bard-Magic centaur! I knew it all along." Bernard said.

I was really playing the lyre! I was a Bard-Magic! No more potions for me!

The song ended, and I felt overjoyed.

"Bernard," I said, "how could I ever thank you?"

"Don't thank me! I had to do something about that awful playing before it was too late! But, you're welcome anyway."

"Say, Bernard?"

"Yes?"

"Do you want to help me fight a dragon?" Bernard raised his eyebrows. "You centaurs are weird. But, I don't need to be home for supper until after dark, so…alright!"

***

It was not long before we heard the dragon's mighty roar.

KRAKKAAAW!

Bernard quickly turned into a rabbit and darted under the nearest bush. I swallowed hard and gripped the lyre tightly. Out from behind the trees came the dragon, its silver and green scales shimmering brightly.

This wasn't just any dragon. This was Ivana the Terrible, the most feared dragon in all of Anavrin. And I was the only one who could stop her.

She spotted me in a moment, and her eyes seemed to pierce me with hunger and ferocity. I shuddered, but held the lyre high above my head. It was not the first time she had seen it.

She roared again, this time, it was a mocking sound, almost like laughing. She knew that I was no more than a foal, and didn't believe that I could work the lyre's magic.

Bernard poked his rabbit head out from under the bush. "You can do this, Norr! Just remember what I told you, and you'll be fine! And hurry, before you're toast! Literally!"

With shaky hands, I began to play.

O, how the morning
Came this day
In fearful cries
And disarray.

The dragon cry
Rang louder still
But naught could cure
The eerie chill.

The potion-maker's
Cure was tried
But, no cure
Did it supply.

The music, taken
From the tent
Boldly to the
Forest went.

And here he plays
To calm the beast
And send her gently
Off to sleep.

So listen, dragon.
Hear me, true.
On this day,
I've defeated you.

I looked up slowly when my song was done, expecting the worst. But, to my surprise, the dragon was fast asleep! I had done it! I had calmed the dragon!

"Nice work, Norr!" Bernard stepped out from behind the bush, in human form. "Now, what?" "

Well, the herd usually works together to move the dragon back into the forest, where it sleeps for a few weeks. Then, when it wakes up, it doesn't remember anything that happened, which is good, because otherwise, it would want revenge on the herd. But instead, it heads home until it remembers. That usually takes a few years!" I replied.

"That's great, Norr! You can go home a hero!"

"I can, can't I? But the Alpha will probably be angry at me for taking his lyre."

"Well, maybe he won't be," Bernard suggested. "Hey, Norr..."

"Yes, Bernard?"

"You'll come back to visit me here in the forest, won't you? Maybe slay a couple ogres, or something?"

"Of course, Bernard. I think we're going to be good friends for a very long time."

"Wonderful! Maybe next time, I can teach you all about skunk hunting! I'm really good at that!"

"I think I'll pass."

"Norr?"

"Yes, Bernard?"

"I'll see you later."

"Goodbye, Bernard." I said, and turned to leave the forest.

"Goodbye Norr!" Bernard called.

***

And that's how I became a dragon-slayer. When the Alpha woke up, he wasn't angry with me at all. In fact, he was so grateful, he even let me keep the lyre! Ever since, I have been the official Bard-Magic centaur of my herd! Bernard and I have remained good friends ever since, and eventually, he did teach me how to go skunk-hunting. That's a story I'd rather not tell.

Oh, and I almost forgot! My uncle was turned back into a centaur, though he never could get rid of that "ribbet" sound…

Now that you know the story of how I defeated Ivana the Terrible, I hope you also know the moral of the story. Nothing is impossible as long as you believe in yourself. (Also, don't let your friend talk you into skunk-hunting. But that's a story for another day…)