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fandomweekly2025-05-02 01:40 pm
badly_knitted) wrote in fandomweekly2025-05-02 01:40 pm
Entry tags:
[#259] Grand Emperor’s Pilgrimage (Original)
Theme Prompt: #259 – Caves
Title: Grand Emperor’s Pilgrimage
Fandom: Original
Rating/Warnings: PG / None
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 1000
Summary: Grand Emperor Boofeldt must make a Pilgrimage to visit the Dragon under the Mountain.
Grand Emperor Boofeldt was on Pilgrimage, going to visit the Dragon under the Mountain. That was something expected of all Grand Emperors, and indeed Boofeldt’s own father had gone himself. Of course, the former Grand Emperor had been thirty-five when he’d visited the Mountain, and he’d been Grand Emperor for less than a year at the time. That had been before Boofeldt was born though; his father had married late in life and only had the one child.
The only thing Boofeldt knew about his father’s Pilgrimage was that it had happened. Pilgrimages were never spoken about after the fact; what happened during them was considered private and personal, a matter between the Grand Emperor and the Dragon. That was the way it had always been since the first settlers had arrived on Carraxia and made their pact with the Dragon. And now, at last, it was Boofeldt’s turn to make the trip.
Pilgrimages were usually made within the first year of a Grand Emperor’s reign, so Boofeldt was already running late for his, but it had seemed unwise for an eight-year-old to make the long trek to the Mountain, he’d been far too young for such a potentially dangerous trip. Boofeldt felt bad about that, waiting so long wasn’t very respectful to the Dragon, but he’d just turned fifteen last week, and had declared at his birthday banquet that he wasn’t putting it off any longer.
Naturally, his advisors hadn’t wanted him to go. They’d said he was still too young. Not too young to be Grand Emperor, but too young to be away from their influence for an extended period. His advisors had also wanted to send a squadron of the Royal Guard with him, for his protection, despite the fact that no other Grand Emperor had ever taken bodyguards on Pilgrimage. A few had taken servants, as far as the last village before the Great Waste that surrounded the Mountain, but even that had been considered in rather poor taste.
Boofeldt had noticed that none of his advisors had offered to accompany him, but then he’d also noticed some years ago that they weren’t very good advisors. They claimed their positions were hereditary, but that was a lie. He was gradually weeding them out, someday he hoped he’d only have advisors he’d chosen, people he could trust, but for now the ones he had did at least serve a purpose. They gave him a very good idea of what NOT to do.
The journey to the Mountain had proved uneventful. He’d passed through many villages, where the people had asked for favours, as was their right during Pilgrimage, and he’d granted most of them, except for the man who’d wanted his neighbour’s wife, despite the fact that the wife had objected. Women were people, not possessions to be passed around. But now, after a month of travel, here he was, making his final approach to the Mountain on foot, having left Bim, his mount, back at the village. He’d patted Bim’s velvety purple snout, said he’d be back in a week or two, shouldered his heavy pack, and set off across the barren, rocky ground.
He was enjoying the adventure, and having more freedom than he ever had around Carraxia’s capital, but riding Bim had been much easier than walking. Boofeldt was rather small for his age, and the pack, containing his provisions, a bedroll, and his gifts for the Dragon, dragged on his shoulders. Nevertheless, he did his best not to stoop. He wouldn’t want the Dragon to think he wasn’t a suitable Grand Emperor.
The walk across the Waste took a whole day. He’d set out from the village at dawn, and the sun was setting by the time he stepped into the cave. That was tradition, since the Dragon was supposedly mostly nocturnal. Boofeldt knew that many of his advisors, and the population as a whole, doubted that the Dragon existed. No one alive had ever seen it, and as far as anyone knew, it hadn’t left the mountain since the first settlers had arrived. But if there was no dragon, then anyone could be Grand Emperor, so Boofeldt was sure the Dragon must be real.
The cave entrance wasn’t much taller than a man, but the cavern within was much larger, and tunnels led off it to even bigger caves as he made his way deeper into the Mountain. There was no map, one simply had to keep walking until one located the Dragon. Boofeldt had left his bedroll and most of his provisions just inside the entrance, carrying with him only the gifts for the Dragon. And food and water for a day or two. That made his pack much easier to carry, and he strode forward through the darkness, illuminated only by the small lantern he carried, searching for the one he’d come to pay his respects to.
As he walked, he brushed aside thick cobwebs, sending spiders scuttling for safety. He did his best not to tread on any of them, because they were just trying to live their lives, and do what they were designed for. Bad enough that he was destroying some of their homes, but they could be rebuilt.
Boofeldt’s journey took him ever downwards, deep beneath the Mountain, until at last he entered a vast cavern that stretched further that he could see.
“I, Grand Emperor Boofeldt, am here, seeking audience with the Dragon!” he called through the darkness, his voice echoing.
“Welcome,” a deep voice boomed from somewhere in the darkness, and what he’d taken for a rock formation in the centre of the cavern unfolded into a creature so large it made Boofeldt feel like the spiders must have felt at his approach. Burnished bronze scales glittered in the lanternlight, and a golden eye studied him. “My apologies for the spiders.”
“It’s fine.” Boofeldt shrugged. “I like bugs.”
“Splendid! Did you happen to bring me any tea?”
Boofeldt smiled. Already he liked the Dragon.
The End
The only thing Boofeldt knew about his father’s Pilgrimage was that it had happened. Pilgrimages were never spoken about after the fact; what happened during them was considered private and personal, a matter between the Grand Emperor and the Dragon. That was the way it had always been since the first settlers had arrived on Carraxia and made their pact with the Dragon. And now, at last, it was Boofeldt’s turn to make the trip.
Pilgrimages were usually made within the first year of a Grand Emperor’s reign, so Boofeldt was already running late for his, but it had seemed unwise for an eight-year-old to make the long trek to the Mountain, he’d been far too young for such a potentially dangerous trip. Boofeldt felt bad about that, waiting so long wasn’t very respectful to the Dragon, but he’d just turned fifteen last week, and had declared at his birthday banquet that he wasn’t putting it off any longer.
Naturally, his advisors hadn’t wanted him to go. They’d said he was still too young. Not too young to be Grand Emperor, but too young to be away from their influence for an extended period. His advisors had also wanted to send a squadron of the Royal Guard with him, for his protection, despite the fact that no other Grand Emperor had ever taken bodyguards on Pilgrimage. A few had taken servants, as far as the last village before the Great Waste that surrounded the Mountain, but even that had been considered in rather poor taste.
Boofeldt had noticed that none of his advisors had offered to accompany him, but then he’d also noticed some years ago that they weren’t very good advisors. They claimed their positions were hereditary, but that was a lie. He was gradually weeding them out, someday he hoped he’d only have advisors he’d chosen, people he could trust, but for now the ones he had did at least serve a purpose. They gave him a very good idea of what NOT to do.
The journey to the Mountain had proved uneventful. He’d passed through many villages, where the people had asked for favours, as was their right during Pilgrimage, and he’d granted most of them, except for the man who’d wanted his neighbour’s wife, despite the fact that the wife had objected. Women were people, not possessions to be passed around. But now, after a month of travel, here he was, making his final approach to the Mountain on foot, having left Bim, his mount, back at the village. He’d patted Bim’s velvety purple snout, said he’d be back in a week or two, shouldered his heavy pack, and set off across the barren, rocky ground.
He was enjoying the adventure, and having more freedom than he ever had around Carraxia’s capital, but riding Bim had been much easier than walking. Boofeldt was rather small for his age, and the pack, containing his provisions, a bedroll, and his gifts for the Dragon, dragged on his shoulders. Nevertheless, he did his best not to stoop. He wouldn’t want the Dragon to think he wasn’t a suitable Grand Emperor.
The walk across the Waste took a whole day. He’d set out from the village at dawn, and the sun was setting by the time he stepped into the cave. That was tradition, since the Dragon was supposedly mostly nocturnal. Boofeldt knew that many of his advisors, and the population as a whole, doubted that the Dragon existed. No one alive had ever seen it, and as far as anyone knew, it hadn’t left the mountain since the first settlers had arrived. But if there was no dragon, then anyone could be Grand Emperor, so Boofeldt was sure the Dragon must be real.
The cave entrance wasn’t much taller than a man, but the cavern within was much larger, and tunnels led off it to even bigger caves as he made his way deeper into the Mountain. There was no map, one simply had to keep walking until one located the Dragon. Boofeldt had left his bedroll and most of his provisions just inside the entrance, carrying with him only the gifts for the Dragon. And food and water for a day or two. That made his pack much easier to carry, and he strode forward through the darkness, illuminated only by the small lantern he carried, searching for the one he’d come to pay his respects to.
As he walked, he brushed aside thick cobwebs, sending spiders scuttling for safety. He did his best not to tread on any of them, because they were just trying to live their lives, and do what they were designed for. Bad enough that he was destroying some of their homes, but they could be rebuilt.
Boofeldt’s journey took him ever downwards, deep beneath the Mountain, until at last he entered a vast cavern that stretched further that he could see.
“I, Grand Emperor Boofeldt, am here, seeking audience with the Dragon!” he called through the darkness, his voice echoing.
“Welcome,” a deep voice boomed from somewhere in the darkness, and what he’d taken for a rock formation in the centre of the cavern unfolded into a creature so large it made Boofeldt feel like the spiders must have felt at his approach. Burnished bronze scales glittered in the lanternlight, and a golden eye studied him. “My apologies for the spiders.”
“It’s fine.” Boofeldt shrugged. “I like bugs.”
“Splendid! Did you happen to bring me any tea?”
Boofeldt smiled. Already he liked the Dragon.
The End