The Dragon Lady (The Dracosinum Tales)

by Angelique S. Anderson

  They sailed from port that night to deliver the horses they had obtained to Acre, Israel where another Crusade was underway. However, demand was so high, they immediately sailed back to Spain to retrieve another herd.

  The seas were rough, often causing injuries or illness. They were delayed several days because of it, and by the time they had retrieved an additional fifty horses from Spain and sailed back to deliver them in Israel, the final Crusade was over.

  While the captain and crew haggled to sell off the herd, the ship remained anchored in Acre for some time. My mother played with a group of children near the harbor most days.

  The children acted out a story that involved a great white beast they called a dragon that had flown in aid of Al-Ashraf Khalil in his crusade against Acre two years before. They swore it was the dragon who helped Al-Ashraf win the battle and put a stop to the crusades once and for all. Though it had taken quite some time, there was now peace. The white dragon had disappeared afterward, and the survivors had come together to clean up the bodies and restore the city.

  When my mother asked them to describe the dragon, they told her in detail about the great winged beast, which she knew to be identical to the one she had seen nearly three years beforehand. When she boarded the ship several nights later with her family and the remaining twenty-five horses, my mother knew she would not sleep until she had learned more about the dragon that had helped to bring an end to the Crusades in 1291.

  Though the Crusades had ended, the fighting and battles had not, and there was always a need to sail somewhere or other to deliver more livestock. At times, they would pick up a herd of cattle and use them for trade and barter.

  My mother and father, having grown up aboard the ship, fell in love when they were but seventeen and nineteen. They married a year later, and after two miscarriages, my mother gave birth to me in 1305. That’s when my parents decided to leave the ship and build a life for us on solid land. The captain, having aged and ready to pass the ship off to his son, gave them a bit of coin for their time and hard work to help them get established ashore.

  They traveled from place to place, stopping wherever my mother found work as a seamstress and my father could get employment at ship building or fishing. Finally, we ended up along the Thames near the port of London and father gained an apprenticeship in the shop of a blacksmith, where he earned and saved enough coin to set himself up in a little shop of his own.

  As I came of age, my mother taught me to sew and read and write. My father taught me to forge metal and hammer down iron. My mother told me about the dragons, and though I believed it to be a fairy tale, I never grew tired of hearing the story, even as an adult. When I was old enough to work, my parents thought it best to return to the sea.

  By that time, my father’s blacksmith trade had grown, and they had acquired a little home for themselves through shrewdness and a lot of ingenuity. They were able to sell their home, at a fair profit, as the economy seemed to be on the rise despite the outbreak of the black plague.

  It never seemed to stop the ships from docking, and the port never slept as many sailing vessels came and went. Living there was exciting for me, as I learned how to make various weapons and tools, but I knew my parents craved the peace and quiet of the sea. Greed was on the rise, and the exchange of money increased at a frenetic pace, causing everything to rise rapidly in cost.

  About the time the house was sold, father met a ship owner who was cash-strapped. His ship, a cog called Katarina, was bearing a load of tea from China and had been caught in a devastating storm, so violent it blew off the hatch covers, and though the ship received minimal damage, the entire cargo was ruined from salt water entering the hold and soaking the tea.

  The man’s misfortune was my father’s gain, and he purchased the ship that very day. The night we left the Port of London, I sat in the stern watching the sky. It was that very evening, I saw what my mother had so often told me of. Two mighty dragons flew across the moon, and I watched them as they descended upon the city we had just left. My mother’s quest now became my own.

  Aboard the new ship, I worked as a cabin boy as my parents sailed from England to Spain, to Ireland and back again. They traded and bartered whatever promised to make a reasonable profit. We didn’t have much room for horses and could barely manage the three to five we kept aboard when we were able. We dealt mostly in tea and spices, and my mother proved to have a knack for trading. How we managed, I’ll never know but the small crew and I never went hungry.

  I spent all my free time learning about navigation and seamanship. I had enjoyed our time on land and still took advantage of occasional opportunities while in port, but was still curious about the dragons, and the more I learned, the more I wanted to know. I grabbed hold of every book I could get my hands on in the hopes of finding out more about the creatures. Finally, one day it was in a tiny curiosity shop that I stumbled on a journal by a Captain Daniel Bloggart.

  It was like finding gold. The book told of the crusades, and how the gods, heartbroken over men’s evil ways, had cried real tears. Their tears fell upon the Earth and awoke a magic so long asleep that no one could have predicted what would happen. The very day the gods wept, two great dragons rose into the sky.

  Captain Bloggart went on to describe the dragon’s purpose in the course of human events, but still, without further validation, I didn’t know how much of it was true. Two shillings seemed a little steep, but I didn’t bother to haggle and would have paid twice the price as the journal contained so much pertinent information. Of course, most of the information remains unverified and its creator unknown to me.

  The night my world changed for the worse, I was forty-six years of age. I had spent most of my life trying to find out more about the beasts while I took care of my aging mother who had grown ill at the time. As I kept the night watch, my eyes beheld the dragons once more -- it was the moment I had waited for my entire life.

  The beasts had come back. This time, they were locked in a power struggle, like a mid-air dance. The crew had long since gone to sleep, so I stood there with my hand on the helm watching the beasts dart this way and that. At one point they came so close to the ship I thought they would rip the sails clean off.

  I couldn’t look away, nor run to safety. I was transfixed. They belched fire and tackled one another, often becoming so entangled they fell into the sea. Then they would rise up again and continue fighting well into the night. Just as the sun began to peek over the horizon, the white one flew over the ship, the black one chased after it laboriously as they were both tired from battle. The white dragon took one furious swipe at the black dragon and knocked it out of the sky.

  I watched the huge black body fall into the sea, its tail striking the port side of the ship, and then the black dragon gradually sank out of sight. The white dragon flew off into the rising sun, and that was the last of it. Or so I thought. I hadn’t yet had time to read the entirety of the journal I had found, and I wouldn’t for some time.

  That was the day the Black Death came upon us. I had longed to return to land, as life at sea was losing its attraction. My mother was one of the first to fall ill. She died quickly, as did others and we wasted no time in relinquishing the bodies to the deeps. The plague traveled so swiftly through the crew I was sure I would never see land again. By the time I finally did, my father had died as well, and there was only a handful of us left.

  The day came when I was sailing the ship alone, and a poor job I was doing of it. The only other person alive was the cook’s helper, and he was failing fast. I was now desperate to get ashore but knew if I tried to make port I would be refused entry due to the death and pestilence onboard.

  When the cook’s helper had taken his last breath, I sent him to his resting place in the deeps and then I devised a plan. I knew if I could get to London, I would have a good chance of finding work and making a life for myself on shore. I also knew I would never be able to sail the ship up the Rive
r Thames on my own.

  I had learned enough about navigation to know I wasn’t far from the mouth of the English Channel. As long as I was in the Channel, I would be fine. Only when I tried to land would I be open to inspection.

  Therefore, I timed my arrival along the south coast of England for the middle of the night. Thankfully, there was a full moon, and I was able to watch the shore for a low beach area with no lights nearby. When I found such a spot, I steered directly for it and grounded her.

  Strapping a purse around my waist with all the money I had been able to find on the ship, and taking a canteen of water and some hard tack, I struck off inland under cover of night and put as much distance as possible between me and the ship. Come daylight I begged rides from passing farm wagons and produce carts until I finally arrived at the outskirts of London.

  I quickly found a job as a blacksmith in Dobbinsturn with a man by the name of Cornelius Porter. My father had taught me well, and I advanced quickly with accompanying raises in pay. He was a skilled craftsman and a fair employer. Not many people would have taken a second look at me, being rather weather beaten from my years at sea, but it seemed Lady Luck was on my side for once.

  After working with Cornelius that first day, he pointed me toward McCollum Inn, one of the only places in town that was open for new boarders. With access to clean water and a breakfast of real homemade biscuits, I couldn’t have imagined heaven being any finer.

  Until Mr. Charles McCollum’s daughter stepped into the room.

  I had a mouth full of food and must have looked a fool staring at her the way I did, but I was sure that she was an angel, with her soft curls of yellow hair that embraced a face full of freckles. She smiled shyly at me while grabbing her breakfast and then retreating from the room.

  From then on every time I spotted her I gave her a wide smile, but it would be a good six months before I would finally gather the nerve to say hello.

  Most ladies would have thought it improper, but we had stolen enough glances to strike up a conversation.

  I continued to work hard, putting all I had into being the best blacksmith I was capable of. At night, after coming home and cleaning up before supper, Elizabeth and I would occasionally steal away to the drawing room of the inn. There were always people about, so it’s not as if we were so improper as to be alone, but I found myself drawn to her gentle mannerisms and quiet intellect.

  She may have been a woman, but she had a love of Chaucer and all forms of poetry. I fell in love and, nearly eight months later, I purchased a small bit of silver and hand forged a ring for Elizabeth. I professed my love to her in the drawing room where most of our conversations had taken place, and she accepted my hand in marriage.

  Meanwhile, the blacksmith shop I worked at had begun to grow. Word had spread about the quality of our work. Old man Porter passed away not long after, and he left the shop to me in his will. I eventually took on more help as well as a business partner, growing the shop into a profitable trade over the next couple of years.

  Elizabeth being ten years younger than I gave me two strong sons, and Mr. Charles McCollum insisted I take on their family name. I had nothing to prove my own lineage as I had been born at sea and both my parents were now dead.

  Mr. McCollum had been assisting a local physician for several years and studying the healing arts. By now the locals were calling him Dr. McCollum and his services were much in demand. Whenever he could, Dr. McCollum advised me in building and expanding my blacksmith business in order to make it more profitable.

  On my fifty-fourth birthday, I sold my business to my partner and went under Dr. McCollum’s full-time employ as a medical assistant as well as aiding with the running of the inn. It allowed Elizabeth more time to raise our boys, and me the opportunity to watch them grow up.

  I enjoyed learning from the well-educated Dr. McCollum, but I definitely felt my age at times. The boys loved when I would join them in boisterous play which sometimes tired me out, but they were grand times. As they grew older, and Dr. McCollum’s medical practice grew, so did the city. The social classes became more separated than ever, but I found that no one remembered me as the man who’d once been a blacksmith. I was a McCollum, part of a family of medical pioneers.

  Using my newfound wealth and status, I gained access to some of the grandest libraries in the world where Dr. McCollum and I studied at every opportunity. At the same time, I found, even more, information concerning dragons.

  And now, as an old man, I can confess that I have spent the past four decades learning everything I could about dragons. Through the curiosity shop journal that I finally read in its entirety, through mythology, rare eyewitness accounts, paintings and carvings that dated back long before words were committed to paper. This is everything I have learned about the Dragaleth.

  If you are reading this, then I have passed from this world to the next, and I have released my findings of the beasts for any who may wish to peruse my studies.

  Signed this seventeenth day of March 1387,

  Thaddeus McCollum

  The following are notes from Thaddeus’s findings.

  -According to mythology the Dragaleth have existed since the dawn of man but were not resurrected on Earth until the gods cried tears of real heartbreak.

  -1290 My mother spots the Dragaleth while out at sea

  -1291 Dragaleths aid Al-Ashraf Khalil who marched against the coastal port of Acre, Israel. It was a mere seven weeks that Acre was under siege before they gave in and ended the crusades.

  -1305 I was born

  -1317 Dragaleth are spotted in England by me as a small boy.

  -Over the course of 1318-1325, the owner of the journal spots them sixteen times.

  -1346 I spot the Dragaleth over my boat, in which they battle, and one dies.

  -1355 I find mythology speaking of the Dragaleth before the world was created.

  It says there are two

  One is a race called:

  Teselym-Protector of the human race, more power than Siapheg. Executes justice when necessary. The Teselym enacts the balance of good.

  Siapheg- brings evil and ensures that humanity will never be entirely free from the sadness of death, betrayal, and lies. Less powerful than Teselym. (Maybe he brought the flea that gave my ship the Black Death)

  Mythology states that if they were ever to be resurrected in real life that they would be a combination of human and dragon. Mythology also states that more often than not, the gods would use twins to complete this feat and that only one Siapheg and Teselym can be alive at a time. When they are resurrected through the human race, it will pass from father to firstborn, the bond of Dragaleth can be passed between siblings if the first dies too quickly, or from parent to child and back to the parent.

  A Dragaleth must remain a Dragaleth for a minimum of ten human years before passing the bond onto another sibling or child unless killed beforehand. The gods determine who carries on the bond if there is more than one eligible family member. When an old Dragaleth dies regardless of the cause, the bond immediately passes onto the next of kin. The Dragaleths do not have to kill each other; the ideal is that they dwell in harmony, and they must only maintain the balance of good and evil. If at any point, the balance dips farther towards good, or farther towards evil, the opposite Dragaleth may challenge his or counter to a battle in Dragon form.

  The duel is to the death, and the victor must depart peacefully and maintain the balance of both good and evil until another can be raised up to take the place of the Dragaleth who died. The surviving Dragaleth will know it is time for him or her to take to the skies when they are summoned by their human host.

  The human host is only able to summon a Dragaleth when they are of age to understand the balance between good and evil. This will be evidenced when they hold the Dracosinum, and the dragon essence balances perfectly. Its gear lining up with its internal workings, and only on the nights when the moon aligns with the North Sta
r.

  To activate the dragon essence within, the human host must turn the crown of the Dracosinum a total of twelve full turns to the left, and five full turns to the right. This act will unlock the essence of the dragon which will come back to life and make its holder aware if they are ready or not. Once activated, it cannot be undone, and if the human host finds or inherits its Dracosinum and decides not to activate it, the Earth and its people will be left to destroy themselves as the balance of good and evil will eventually run out.

  Though I have referred to the possessor of the Dracosinum as a host, make no mistake that the Dragaleth and the human who animates it are one and the same, for it is the essence of the person itself and it has been discovered that one cannot exist without the other. This concludes my findings.

  Thaddeus McCullum

  Chapter Nine

  Wylie closed the book and shut her eyes, contemplating everything she had read. She pulled the Dracosinum from her pouch and set it upon the rough wood surface before her. The truth for the moment seemed so far-fetched that she couldn’t believe it to be accurate. Me, a Dragaleth? It’s a myth. A fairy tale. It has to be!

  “Did you find out anything?” Dr. Mullins had stayed out of sight until she was done reading. His gruff voice jolted her back to reality.

  “I… I…. I need a moment if you please.” Picking up the Dracosinum, she walked towards the front of the shop, intent on stepping outside into the night to get a breath of fresh air. But then she thought better of it. Wylie didn’t know how the curse worked, but she surely wasn’t going to help it along. Instead, she found herself pacing the floor, rolling the ideas around in her mind, like a ship upon the water.

  In the meantime, Dr. Mullins took her place at the table and began reading through the information himself. She didn’t dare look at him, for fear of what she would see in his face, so instead, she paced back and forth waiting for him to respond to what he read in the worn leather-bound book. He grew very quiet; even his breathing, which had before been heavy, slowed, as he immersed himself in the contents of the book.