I’m still not sure about this, as I’m so tired to my computer. But, when my tendonitis kicks in, it might be the solution I need. Has anyone tried this? Thoughts? Suggestions.
I’m still not sure about this, as I’m so tired to my computer. But, when my tendonitis kicks in, it might be the solution I need. Has anyone tried this? Thoughts? Suggestions.
I absolutely love this. Moving and brutally honest, I just had to reblog it. Bill Jones, Jr. does it again. 🙂
I used to be a dragon.
On the last day of my existence, before the peopled masses crushed me underfoot, I was black-winged, graceful, with a flowing mane that rippled in the tearing winds beyond the rock face. I stood there, grey eyes closed to the dying sun, thirty meters of wingspan open, and fluttering like the jagged sails of ocean craft. There was a chill, a thin, biting wind upon my back, and I should have recognised its call. But I was inflamed and full, an alpha dragon amidst the soaring rage above.
I was a male, like none other, or so
We were hot-blooded beasts, we dragonkind. The Others believed us to be outsized lizards, but it was never so. We burned with passion that frightened them, but our flames were never for violence, even though our cries were stark. Alone was our fire for love…
View original post 259 more words
I’m very excited about this. Chapter 1 of The Dragon’s Egg has been published in The Woven Tale Press emagazine. Many thanks to Sandra Tyler for this fantastic opportunity. You can find her blog at: http://www.awriterweavesatale.com/
I invite you to check out The Dragon’s Egg as well as the other wonderful and eclectic pieces included in the edition. Dragon is the ninth article in.
“Quit it!” Doret’s stomach hadn’t ceased gurgling all morning. Every time it did, Slevyn’s own stomach would join in, ruining the gentle, beautiful sounds of morning with a nasty symphony born of too much over-active stomach juice. It was beginning to drive her crazy.
“How d’ya mean? Ain’t ‘ad nuthin’ ta eat in ages. Tha stomach’s only doing what a very ‘ungry one’s supposed ta,” Doret countered. “Ya know, it’d be real nice if ya ’ad some vitals or sumthin’ tasty hidin’ in yer pack.” He looked over at her little bundle. Slevyn could have sworn she saw saliva glistening on his lips.
She shook her head in disbelief. What? Share with him? Even if she did have some crumbs laying at the bottom of her pack, she’d rather share them with anyone or anything else–even a cursed cave troll–than with Doret. It was because of his constant meddling and tattling that she’d suffered all those beatings at her father’s hands. He was the one who always made her feel stupid for wanting to get away from the tired, dreary life in the village to look for adventure and fun in the outer world by pointing out the flaws in each and every one of her elaborate escape plans. So what if she didn’t know how to hunt or make traps? So what if she didn’t have clothing warm enough to stave off the bitter cold of the Mountains of Perth. They were her plans! And she hated that he followed her wherever she went. Hated it more that he had followed her and Shasta the one time she had set out to leave the village for real. And for good.
How dare he ask her for anything? Except for a slap in the face?
Slevyn eased open her palm.
Then Shasta coughed, which sounded more like a muted rasp, and she remembered their little ‘talk’ the night before. Reluctantly, she closed her palm and shrugged. Doret was an idiot, and she had no doubt her anxious appendage would soon be satisfied, one way or another. Though Shasta was a brat, she would do anything for him. Even sort of admit that Doret had raised a good point.
Swallowing the ball in the throat, Slevyn gritted her teeth and almost hissed, “You’re right. We can only go no like this for so long. We need some real food.” She pointed at the rolled up bundle of woollen blanket and the tuft of dark, curly hair sprouting out the top. “He’s getting weaker and weaker. He needs some real food, and soon.”
“Why’nt yer uncle take ’im back wit’ ’im, then?”
Slevyn sighed while placing a gentle hand on Shasta’s arm. “The only way you could ask that is because you don’t know Shasta. He’s small and skinny, looks all frail and everything, but once he gets an idea in his head…you’re better off just letting him do it.”
Doret raised his eyebrows. “Yer poor parents. What’d they do tha gods at get stuck wit’ two of yous?”
Slevyn whipped around to glare at him but then saw his eyes were crinkled at the corners as well as the goofy smile bending his lips. How the boy played with fire and didn‘t even know it! He really was dumb! “Fine,” she said, thinking again of Shasta’s happy eyes last night when she’d agreed to give Doret a break, “I’ll give you that one. Only because you’re right.”
Shasta finally stirred. After stretching like a kitten and rubbing the sore spots on his body from sleeping on the ground all night, he glanced quickly between Slevyn and Doret, his mouth open in a questioning O.
“Everything’s alright,” Slevyn assured him. “Doret and I played nice. He’s still alive, isn’t he? See? Doesn’t have a scratch on him.”
“Why d’ya always assume tha’ if we got inta a fight, ya’d win?” Doret demanded.
“Because I always do, or have your arms and face forgotten their spankings?”
A rash of red splashed across the older boy’s face. Blushing was something Slevyn knew he hated, as being of lighter complexion than most of the villagers, everyone knew when he felt afraid, shy or embarrassed. Slevyn squealed in pain at a sharp pinch on her arm and looked down to see Shasta twisting the skin there. Having gained her attention, he frowned, the expression contrasting with his sympathetic blue eyes. He jabbed a thumb at Doret.
Ooooh, the little terror! How could such a meddling, mute little brother influence her like this! Just because last night had allowed her to see Doret in a slightly different light, that didn’t mean she wanted to go as far as to actually–she swallowed, hard–apologize to him. Shasta squeezed her skin harder. Slevyn remembered her conversation with Doret by the fire, when he spoke so openly of being a stranger to the village, of his loneliness and alienation, and of how he constantly felt different from everyone else. His farmland accent was something he hadn‘t yet learned to temper.
The things he complained of were all things she could relate to.
Pouting a little, Slevyn glanced over at Doret. The blush remained. He sat waiting for her to respond, looking at the ground instead of at her. She imagined herself in his place, thought of how he must be feeling at the moment, and was struck by something she had never before imaged she could feel for Doret: empathy.
A roar cut her off. The children immediately jumped to their feet, scrambling around in a panic, looking at the sky, the tress, the surrounding boulders, anywhere and everywhere for its source.
“What is that?”
“Look!” Doret pointed upwards.
At first, Slevyn couldn’t see anything amiss. Two large birds circled above, probably eagles or falcons. But then something familiar about them dawned on her, bringing her back to that day in the meadows when she thought she had seen—
These birds were big, too big to be eagles. They broke off their circular pattern and were now descending, again too quickly to be regular birds, towards the ground. Towards them. As she watched, the small dots grew increasingly in size until within seconds, she could make out the beginnings of ,assive, jointed wings, and long snouted head and horns.
These were definitely–
“Dragons!” The word expelled itself from her lips before she ever knew she had spoken.
“What? That’s impossible!” Doret cried, scared so deeply that for a split second his accent disappeared.
Before he’d finished speaking, Slevyn had broken into a run, heading for the denser trees to their right. She grabbed Shasta by the arm as she went. Doret was quick to follow, and she heard him tramping through the underbrush behind her. Twigs popped and splintered under his feet.
“We have to hide!“ Slevyn threw back at him over her shoulder. “Those things can see in the dark. It’ll be no trouble for them to spot us in such a sparse wood. We need to find a cave, or a burrow. Anything but this open space!”
“Yer tha one ’ho wanted ta sleep under tha stars, you know,” Doret reminded her between breaths.
“Like I knew we were going to be hunted down by dragons!” Shasta stripped over a tree root but she managed to right him quickly and get them moving again. The boy looked miserable. His nose was red and running, and his face looked all pinched up from congestion. Slevyn gripped his hand harder while focussing on finding anything that resembled a suitable shelter.
“What ‘appened ta all yer talk of friendly dragons, an’ of wanting ta go off wit one ta its home in tha mountains?”
Was he serious? They were about to become breakfast for a pair of dragons and he was making jokes at her expense?
She stopped cold. Shasta slammed into her but she ignored the hard jolt to her body. “Look. You said you wanted to come along to ‘keep us safe’ since you’re older than us and are more experienced in the woods. You call yourself a man since you came of age last month! Well prove it! We’re tired and hungry. We’ve got dragons flying around overhead! Do something!”
The teasing smile Doret had been wearing vanished, siphoned away by her outburst. The rash of red flared up again into his neck and face, making the dark brown freckles all but disappear. He looked from her to the sky, saw the beasts bearing down on them, heard their roars echoing through the woods, but his mouth could only open and close wordlessly.
Shasta coughed and pulled at his sister’s arm.
“I know,” she answered distractedly as she was still focused on putting Doret in his place. “I’ve been the one to look after Shasta all this time! You want to say that this is all my fault, but I can take care of my own business just fine. Without your help. So why don’t you–”
A giant black cloud suddenly fell over the area. Winds like a tornado batted the children about so viciously, they could not see. Desperate to latch onto something to avoid being swept away, they stumbled around blindly, resembling the drunken village men at the tavern.
Then suddenly, the wind began to slake and the swirling leaves and pebbles it had stirred up fell to the ground. The pebbles landed like drops of solid rain. Slevyn’s arm suffered a terrible jerk, forcing a startled cry of pain from her.
In disbelief, she opened her empty palm. Shasta was gone.
Eyes full of grit, Slevyn could only see the shadow of the great black beast as it flapped it’s horned, leather-like wings before launching itself in to the air. Shasta’s limp form lay in its closed, black talons.
Then giving one last wrenching flap of its wings, the dragon shot higher into the sky until it vanished into the gleaming blue expanse.
Slevyn bent down to his ear again and whispered, ‘By now the villagers know we’ve gone and are probably looking for us…well looking for you, at least! Get up before I drag you up!’
At last, her brother arose. He groaned while rubbing the sleep from his giant blue eyes before getting to his feet. They shook out their leaf-encrusted blankets, shoved them deep into their packs, and only spared a few seconds to sip from their water skins. There was no time for breakfast. The pair tightened their belts against the loud rumblings from their indignant—and empty– stomachs.
Within minutes, their packs were tied to their backs and Slevyn had brushed away the signs of the impromptu camp with a tree branch. She then led Shasta deeper into the trees and away from the wide footpath that ran the length of the Chimera Wood. Just in case.
As they picked their way through the spindly trees and brushing ferns, Slevyn continued to notice something about her brother, something that had been nagging at her since he had awoken. She squinted at his back, trying to figure out what it was. Like her, he kept his head down, watching the ground for the best places to set his feet. Then he inhaled loudly, allowing her to hear something which caused a wash of concern to pass through her.
‘Shasta, are you sniffling?’ She stopped him by putting a hand on his shoulder. He turned his face away from her, but she caught the determined pout of his lips and jut of his chin. ‘Are you sick? Have you caught a cold?’ Prone to chest colds and sometimes fever, Shasta’s general health bordered on frail. If he fell ill–
He jerked away from her to turn back to the trail, but again, Slevyn stayed him with a firm hand. ‘Listen to me, Shas. If you are not feeling well, you should go back. Sleeping outside, living off little more than berries and all that, it’s not good for you. You might get sicker.’
She felt him stiffen under hand. He turned and glared at her.
‘No, I don’t think you’re weak! You’re the strongest kid I know! But I’m not willing to let you get hurt or worse because of me.’
Then Shasta turned around and looked her full in the face. As he had done last night when he’d caught her sneaking out of the cabin to escape, he set his little fists on his hips and tilted his head to the side.
‘No, I’m not going back,’ Slevyn answered. ‘I can’t. You heard Father; no one wants me. But you could. And I’ll even let you tell them whatever you want about me so you don’t get in trouble.’ Thinking, Slevyn put a hand to her chin. ‘We’re still in Lower Chimera. You could easily find your way back home, as long as you follow the—‘
She was cut off by the sounds of feet tramping along the dirt road. Neither of them could see who was coming because of the bend in the path. In a flash, both Slevyn and Shasta dashed deeper into the trees.
‘Hi! Men! I hear something!’ cried a deep voice.
Afraid to make another sound, the children ducked behind a marbled green and blue moss-covered outcropping. Slevyn peeked around its corner, straining through the ferns to catch a glimpse of the man who had spoken. Shasta tugged at her sleeve, looking up at her with wide eyes. She put a hand to her lips and squeezed his hand with the other. ‘Let’s listen,’ she whispered. ‘They don’t know where we are. Maybe we can learn something useful.’
Shasta pressed his body against hers, and she squeezed his hand gently to comfort him. ‘Don’t worry. We’ll be fine.’ When his breath caught in his throat, she added gently, ‘I’ll be fine, too. I promise.’
She turned her attention back to the man in the road. From this distance, she couldn’t be sure, but she thought it was Arnot.
‘You sure it’s not a bear?’ asked a second man when he caught up to him. That must be Stirling, she thought.
‘No, sounds like a lighter, smaller creature. Maybe a cub.’
‘Hey!’ called another villager from somewhere down the road behind. ‘Looks like the children spent the night right here. One of them even tried to cover their tracks. Probably used a branch. They can’t be gone far away, then.’
‘Good. I’d like to get back to town before lunch. Can’t believe we have to look for two spoiled runaways! If they want to leave home so badly, let them!’ complained Arnot. This didn’t surprise Slevyn at all. That man wouldn’t go the extra mile for his own mother, let alone another man’s lost children.
‘You know,’ said Stirling, ‘I don’t mind that the girl is gone. I never agreed to Steig keeping her in the first place, especially for so long. The original agreement was for a year or two, at most. Twelve years is a long time to temps fate. It’s the boy I feel bad for. The world has changed. It’s become rough and wild, especially since the dragons are gone and aren’t protecting our lands any longer. The Wood is no place for a little kid, let alone one who doesn’t speak.’
‘You know there are rumours. You don’t think she–?’
Stirling scoffed. ‘No. Just because they are known for swooping in and snatching up prey and all that doesn’t mean—‘
‘It certainly doesn’t mean that at all.’ The new voice cut in on the conversation, startling the men into silence. Slevyn could not see the newcomer yet, but she would know that baritone voice anywhere. It was the one that sounded as good to her as chocolate tasted. It was Uncle Stamos.
She almost jumped from her hiding place to throw herself into those massive, strong arms, the ones she believed were more than capable of holding at bay all the bad things in the world which threatened to hurt her. But she did not trust the other men, so she stayed where she was, hidden behind the rock and the ferns.
Stamos continued. ‘Shouldn’t you two be looking for the children rather than speculating about such nonsense?’
Arnot looked down his nose at Stamos. ‘You always take her side, even though you know the truth about her.’
‘What’s that got to do with anything?’ Stamos practically roared at the men. Startled birds, chirping angrily at their lazy morning being interrupted, burst out of a tree. Flashes of yellow, red and blue dotted the clear blue sky as they flew away. ‘She’s just as much a child as Shasta is. You’ve got your orders, so get to them.’
‘You’re not our boss,’ said the third man, who likely bolstered by Arnot’s resistance, dared to enter the conversation. ‘We don’t have to do anything you say.’
‘No, I’m not your boss,’ Stamos agreed, folding his arms across his barrel chest, making himself appear even bigger and stronger. Those arms were used to hard labour as well as carrying deer carcasses and other game for miles back to the village over his shoulders. Few people dared trifle with Stamos, and those who did always regretted it. ‘Still, I think it is in your best interest to get back to perusing the trees…before you find yourself thrown face-first into one.’
Grumbling, one by one the men turned to continue down the road. Stamos watched them for a long time, as though counting the seconds as they passed. Then he turned and looked straight at Slevyn. How did he know?
He strode through the underbrush and the press of the ferns. They parted before him like water. When he reached them, he squatted down looking every bit as strong and as protective as a great mother bird, and folded them both in his arms.
‘Don’t cry, Slevyn.’
‘How could they say such terrible things about me?’ Angered and embarrassed by the villagers’ words, she kept her face pressed into his shoulder, shaking her head against his gentle encouragement to look at him. ‘What rumours are they talking about? And why would I do anything to harm Shasta? Do they really think I’m as horrible as all that?’
Stamos sighed and released them. Seeing that Shasta’s nose was running, he handed him a handkerchief to blow his nose.
‘Are you hungry?’ he asked them. Shasta nodded and quickly tore into the strip of dried meat his uncle offered. Slevyn shook her head, but Stamos insisted. ‘You’ll need to eat or you won’t have the strength to make it to the mountains. You’ll be too weak and likely die before you get there. Or worse, you won’t be able to protect Shasta along the way.’
The last part got her attention. She nearly snatched the meat from her uncle’s hand. ‘What are you talking about? The—the mountains?’ Could he really mean those mountains?
‘Yes, Slevyn. It’s time.’
‘Time for what? Every one is talking in riddles. I don’t understand any of this, except that no one wants me around! Even…even my own father!’
‘No, that’s not true. Look at me. Your father…Slevyn, sending you away was the hardest thing he ever had to do. In fact, it’s killing him.’
‘Didn’t seem that way when I heard him at the town meeting.’
‘You were there?’ He looked sharply at her. ‘I see. That’s why you left.’
She lowered her gaze, unable to meet his serious, deep-brown eyes. ‘I sorta snuck under the hall and listened. Shasta heard, too. My father’s wishes were very clear. Uncle, you still didn’t answer my questions. What were the villagers talking about?’
Stamos wasn’t looking at her anymore. His eyes were turned towards the sky, scanning the depths of the blue realm for…what?
‘There’s no time to explain everything right now,’ he said, abruptly coming back to her. ‘Those men will soon return once they get fed up walking around in circles. Go west to the mountains. Be careful and above all, stay safe. Once you get to the city, you’ll get all the answers you need. And one more thing,’ he added while tugging on her orange-red braids. ‘You are no longer a villager. You are…you are who you are. Let your hair loose.’
‘Loose?’ she echoed, picturing her mother’s horrified expression at such a thing. Taming the long, wavy and at times fuzzy mane had been the bane of her existence until Slevyn had managed to learn to braid her own hair. As much as Slevyn enjoyed thumbing her nose at convention or the ‘acceptable and expected’ thing to do, even she balked at the idea. ‘Wouldn’t that attract unwanted attention?’
‘Attention, yes. But not unwanted. Do you trust me?’
Slevyn looked him straight in the eye. ‘Like I trust no one else.’ She started to untwist her braids.
A strange expression crossed Stamos’ face and his eyes closed a fraction, but he quickly recovered. He handed her a bundle of tied cloth. ‘Good. Take care of your brother and see that he doesn’t get worse. The herbs in this bundle should help.’
‘You don’t think he should return with you? Ow!’ she cried when Shasta pinched her, hard.
‘No. There’s no force in this world that could keep that one from your side. Besides, you need each other. Now go! Remember, head west. And don’t look back!’
Stamos didn’t need to name the city to which he was sending them. Slevyn already knew.
They were going to Perth.
D. Forde (June 2013)