(working title, rough draft)
Chapter Two
Brother Aron arrived in the village of
Grantwood and was greeted by some of the locals. He found himself in
the company of a man called Father Sharpe. Sharpe had a collection of
tomes and scrolls from which he taught the gospels and lessons on
various subjects.
“What do you know about dragons?”
Brother Aron asked, curious. Actually his master was curious, Aron
could feel the presence of his master in his mind.
White-bearded
Father Sharpe walked, with the help of a cane, to one of the shelves
and plucked two scrolls, and the returned to the table where they
were sitting.
“These
scrolls were copied from much older texts.” Father Sharpe
explained, rolling one of the scrolls open across the table. Aron was
able to study the drawings that accompanied the written accounts.
“It
would appear that dragons were known in the old days, the far distant
past, but that they were rarely encountered.” Father Sharpe
explained. “These mountains were one of the regions where it was
said that dragons lived. They lived apart from humans, although there
were occasions where they met and occasionally fought. It seems,
though, that humans and dragons got along well for the most part
before disappearing entirely.”
“So,
would most of our legends and tales be based upon these events?”
Aron asked.
The
man shook his head. “Far too few know of the real record of
dragons. Our myths and legends are made up fairy tales for the most
part. Used to keep children obedient or to tell morality tales or
just to frighten people. I would say that dragons, as they were, have
been forgotten as nearly as it is possible to forget them.”
“You
believe they really existed?” Aron asked at the behest of his
master, the growling in his mind told him what to say.
“The
records are quite scant, it took me a long time to collect these. I
would have liked to have access to more of the monasteries records,
but that isn't allowed of course.” Father Sharpe said, stroking his
white beard. “The mystery is what made them die out. Supposedly
their weakness was their true name. Myths and legends say human
knights hunted them to extinction to show their bravery, but that's
poppycock.”
Brother
Aron heard the dragon chuckling in his mind. “Humans hunted us to
extinction, that is a very humorous idea.” it was saying.
“Thank
you for sharing this information, Father Sharpe. I will request my
Monsignor to search his records and send you anything he finds.”
Brother Aron said, before rising to leave. The dragon in his mind
made him stop and turn back.
“Is
there anyplace in the village to hire help? I am afraid I need to
hire laborers for some restoration work back at the hermitage. It was
in disrepair when I arrived.” Brother Aron asked. The truth was too
grim to think about.
Thankfully
he was a stranger here and didn't know any of these people. He found
the Guild House next to a tavern, naturally. The village was too
small for anything like an actual Guild Hall. Knowing humans as well
as he did, he chose to enter the tavern.
The
barkeep was a frail-looking old man and the place was more or less
empty. Still, he had to do it. “I'm looking for a few handy souls
to labor for a few days at a keep in the wood, a half-days walk from
here. I'll pay you for a fortnight, plus room and board of course,”
He announced.
'Word
of this will get back to the Monsignor! I'll never be trusted again,'
He thought toward the presence of the dragon in his mind.
'Doesn't
matter. Just do what I say,' The dragon sent back with enough force
to cause pain. Brother Aron winced, but otherwise continued.
One
disappointed-looking man had started to come forward but hobbled back
to the table he had come from. Three others accepted the offer of
work. He gave them some coppers for an advance and two of them left
to give this to their wives.
'They
have families, do you really need to do this?' Aron thought at the
dragon.
'I
suppose I could just eat you, but then I don't think you have much
nutritional value,' The dragon joked while making Aron's head ache,
'If I am to be free, I need the sustenance.'
Once
they returned, the men followed him back to the wood. Brother Aron
was worried and hated himself the whole time.
'You
just need to do as I say,' The dragon who called himself Grotiss told
Aron, 'That is how you can keep yourself alive. When you become
useless to me...'
Up
ahead the misshapen mountain came into view.
“Eh,
that is one ugly hillock.” One of the men said, the others laughed.
'My
prison,' Grotiss projected, 'Their grave.'
“It's
going to be dark soon enough,” Brother Aron told the men, “You
can sleep in the basement, it's comfortable down there.”
He
opened the heavy wooden doors on the front and followed them in. He
was busy lighting a torch in the nearest fireplace while the men
drifted around.
“It's
like a very small castle.” One of them said.
“It's
called a Keep.” Brother Aron told them, “It has a significant
purpose to the clerical order.”
He
led them through the inner door and down the circular cave. The men
grew quiet, uneasy. Then they reached the heavy doors at the bottom.
“No
problems, you will find bedding and pottage inside. Have a pleasant
sleep.” Aron told them and opened the door. They did seem quite ill
at ease but moved forward toward the door. Inside it was pitch black
and he could barely see them from the entrance.
“It's
too dark to see anything.” One of the men said, “Give us a
torch.”
“Of
course, you need fire to see by.” Brother Aron said and then
slammed the door shut, he dropped the large piece of timber across
the lock bars.
“Here's
some light!” Grotiss roared and the men screamed. Brother Aron
heard the screams and then the pounding on the other side of the
door. He backed away and then ran back up the circular cave to sit in
the study. He didn't want to hear the screams, but they were as loud
as ever.
It
was Grotiss mentally relaying the suffering of his meal to Aron.
Torture. Aron covered his head and lay it on the table, he began to
hum and recite Bible verses to make it go away. The dragon had other
ideas because he could feel the bodies of the men crunching between
his jaws and taste them in his belly.
“Stop
it, Please! No!” He cried over and over again throughout the
ordeal.
The
horrible minutes felt like hours. Brother Aron was simply crying now.
“You're
a monster!” Brother Aron said.
'Yes,
have you only just noticed?' The dragon asked, 'Now I can get out of
here and fly free again!'
The
Keep shook, books and herbs fell off the shelves and racks. Pieces of
the ceiling began to buckle and he thought he heard bricks crashing
to the floor outside of the study. As soon as the quake subsided he
ran out of the study to find himself feeling the outside air. Much of
the keep had been torn away, a hole toward the dungeon below showed
how the dragon escaped.
He
heard something and spun about. The dragon was nearby and eying him.
'Well,
human Aron,' The dragon projected, 'What shall it be? Join me?
Perish? I leave the choice to you, of course.'
Brother
Aron didn't have a preference at that point. “If I choose to live
for the sole purpose of finding your weakness and returning you to
your realm forever?”
The
dragon laughed. 'Then so be it. You may serve me until you can defeat
me. You can be my jailer.'
“Then
I shall. Master Grotiss.” Brother Aron said, “One day I shall
return you to your prison.”
'Human
Aron, you should sleep. For on the morrow, we pay a visit to the
Monsignor. While you sleep, I shall hunt.'
Brother
Aron was shaking, but nodded and waved at the dragon before returning
to the study, which was now all that was left standing. The dragon
stretch its wings and then flapped them, finally with a roar he
returned to the skies of Earth for the first time in more than a
millennium.
It
was near morning when Aron finally slept well enough to dream. In the
dream Father Sharpe appeared to him. “Brother Aron, you must learn
the true name of the dragon in order to defeat it, it is a monster
unbound by time or distance. Only you can return the beast to where
it belongs.”
When
Brother Aron woke and had refreshed himself, he ventured outside. For
the first time he could see the dragon fully, in broad daylight. It
was enormous, it was much larger than could have ever fit in the
dungeon. Maybe even its size was unbound by Earthly rules.
“You
slept a bit late, Jailer Aron. Perhaps an earlier bedtime would be a
good idea,” The dragon said out loud. Which was not true, a mental
projection combined with a roar had the same effect as actually
speaking it seemed. Then it projected, 'We have a busy day ahead of
us.'
------------- Chapter Three
Nel is seventeen and has some normal teenage problems, angst over her
super-powers, worries over a super-powered world war and that "arch
enemy" stalker she might have to fight to the death!
No comments:
Post a Comment