The Green Ears and the Dragonfish Ship

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The wind whistled through the copper fins as the dragonfish ship glided over the treetops of the autumn forest. Two small figures crouched on its back, their pointed hats pulled low over their foreheads, their eyes shining with excitement. They were the Green Ears—Tillo and Farin—siblings of the air goblin race who spent more time in the skies than on solid ground. "Hold on tight!" Tillo shouted, grabbing the leather bridle that was firmly embedded in the dragonfish's metal neck. Farin just giggled, leaned far forward, and placed his hand on the shimmering green scales. Sometimes, when the sky was particularly clear, one could feel a deep pulsing, as if a living heart still beat inside the ship. This dragonfish ship was no ordinary vessel. Many years ago, a watchmaker and animal tamer named Mevrin had created it—half machine, half being. His name was Brassel, and the children claimed he could hear if someone whispered to him. The elders, however, said he was just a machine, nothing more. Yet every time Brassel rolled his eye diagonally backward in flight, as if checking on the well-being of his riders, even the skeptics doubted him. This morning, it wasn't just an outing. Tillo and Farin had been tasked with delivering a message across the Northwood to the city of Kalwerth. In the leather bag hanging between them lay a scroll sealed with the sign of the Council of Elders. Neither of them knew what it said, but they felt the gravity of the task. "Do you see that?" Farin pointed ahead, where mist hung over the treetops. A gray ribbon pushed its way through the crowns, as if the heavens had opened there. Tillo nodded gravely. "That's the Stormbreak. Mevrin said we should avoid it." But Brassel, the dragonfish ship, lowered its head in that direction, its fins trembling restlessly. It was as if something were pulling it into the fog. Farin laid his forehead against the warm metal and whispered, "If you think we have to go through there, then I trust you." And so they plunged down, into the stormburst. Leaves swirled, branches snapped, lightning flashed, dancing like golden cracks between heaven and earth. Brassel roared, a sound somewhere between a metallic crash and a deep breath. The Greenears held on tight, their hearts in their throats. Then, suddenly, the fog opened. Before them lay a hidden valley, filled with shining crystals that sparkled like stars on the ground. Between them meandered a river, its water glowing blue-green. Farin gasped. "That... that is the river of memories!" It was said that whoever saw their reflection in this water would glimpse the future. But as soon as they saw the valley, Brassel turned away, as if he wanted to give the children just a fleeting glance.