by L. Foster
The guards said they could get in your head. Does it work both ways?
Suddenly, Taro had an idea. He feinted with a slight blast of power towards the dragon riders, forcing them to avert their focus, but he focused most of his power at the dragons. The dragons perked up, trying to locate the source of the force.
Taro pushed harder. The riders groaned as their connection with their mounts were strained. He grunted, wrapping his power around the dragons and tightening his hold.
His body burned, and something rang in his ear. White light blinded him,
He gasped, stumbling backwards. The dragon riders lied on the floor, dead.
Four dragon eyes looked at him, expectant. Gingerly, Taro tugged on their mind, surprised at the connection between him and the two dragons. Somehow, he could feel their though subconsciously, control them
He grinned, and stepped forward, jumping onto the backs on one of the dragons.
Let’s see what else I can do.
He beckoned the dragon to move in his mind, and his mount gave a powerful kick and then suddenly they were in the air.
They carved through the wind, driven by a new sense of urgency. Taro could hear the screams of men and beast in the distance, and the pulsing was growing louder. One in particular stuck out to him, even more prevalent now that he was attuned with a dragon. It was like it connected to all others, guiding their actions.
A Queen Dragon.
Soldiers cried out as he passed by the walls. The battleground didn’t look good. The ground was scorched by dragon fire and soldier fought for their lives, desperately trying to stop their enemies from breaching the walls. The speed and efficiency of the Makarian army had thrown everyone off guard. They wouldn’t last much longer. Taro pushed down into the stirrup of the saddle, pushing his dragon to go faster. They needed to find her.
The dragon seemed to follow the impulse naturally, flying through the storm of dragons and arrows. Taro desperately looked into the barrage of dragons, unsure what he was looking for.
Something swooped out of the air, snatching Taro’s dragon. Huge claws slashed through the dragon’s thick armor like it was made of ribbon. Taro screamed as pain ripped through his mind as acutely as his dragon felt the pain.
He was thrown upwards, out of his saddle. Without thinking, Taro reached out and gripped the claws of the huge thing.
The Queen Dragon screamed, a colossal black thing. Acid sputtered from its mouth. So close to it, the pounding was unbearable.
It had no rider.
Something instinctive forced him to move. Taro jumped, his hands cut open by the sharp scales that covered the thing’s body. He groaned, ignoring the pounding wind on his face as he climbed onto the top of the dragon’s body.
He stepped forward, placed his hands on the top of the Queen Dragon’s head, and then pushed.
It was like a dam of power. The barrier between him and the dragon snapped, creating one conglomeration of power. The Queen Dragon screamed again as Taro forced it into his control.
Dragons flocked around him, screeching at him, calling him master.
Taro could still feel the power of the Queen pounding in his body, but he had control. He had control of the most powerful force in nature. He was the Essence.
He looked down at his city, burning and broken. They would live. They would rebuild. Humans always did. Maybe someday, he would return.
But not now.
Slowly, he turned the fleet of dragons around, and back towards their home.
He was their King now.
To be continued........
Sunny
Chapter 1
Twilight. The time of day where both the living and the dead slowly become aware of one another. In a quiet, leafy London suburb, the grass remained wet from yesterday's rain, but that didn't stop the kids from playing. Their school uniforms, a mixture of polyester and itchy cotton, started to sag into their skin.
'Abi, what does that cloud remind you of?' Henry asked, pointing skyward.
'That one? That's Mrs Cooper!' Abi replied.
'She screamed at Alex today. Did you know?'
Abi stood up, placed her hands on her hips while she thrust her head back and continued.
, ' Master Bradshaw, never have I raised my voice. A true lady never raises her voice! Henry giggles.
Abi, seeing how hilarious her theatrics were panning out continued with the mimicking.
'Henry Bradshaw! What is so funny young man? Can you not see your soul is at stake? Every giggle is the devil!' Abi's right fist shook in faux anger as her left hand stayed firmly on her hip.
'I'm sorry, Mrs Cooper!' She started, imitating another pupil.
'So you should be Master Bradshaw. So you should be! '
While this happened, Henry struggled to keep from laughing at the show. His nose twitched and he bit his lip in a vain effort to hold off.
'I'm sorry Mrs. Cooper!' Abi continued ' I will reflect upon my sins and say a Hail Mary! '
Abi shifted her head swiftly so her nose pointed to the sky and addressed Henry again.
'Yes! All of my students should pray. And also for me! Pray that I have the strength for my duty! You think I like chastising young Alex here?' Abi said, pointing to a bush.
She walked over and started to spank the bush. Seeing Abi with her best fake stern face, administering special lessons to the shrubbery was more than Henry could take. At first, the laughter came out in spurts, but bubbled quite quickly to a full-blown uncontrollable fit.
The laughter spread over to Abi as she continued spanking the shrub...
'And this for being late the first hour! And this for being early the next hour! This, because I don't like the shrubbery!'
Abi tried to continue in her stern impression, but the giggles overtook her. She twirled around and landed next to Henry.
'Poor Alex!' Abi said, in her accent that made the name ‘Alex’ sound quite harsh.
'Better him than us!' Henry said.
Abigail stops and sighs. A more somber mood than a young girl should have, quickly takes over. The previously playful Abi disappears only to be replaced by a contemplative one
'No, I left the glue pot open Henry. It wasn't Alex.' She admitted.
Henry sighed and proceeded to speak.
'Abi, I'll tell Mrs. Cooper it was me tomorrow. I didn't think Alex would get in that much trouble for it. I don't want you getting into trouble too'.
Henry wrapped his fingers around a small violet and plucked it from the ground. He gently gave it to Abi and smiled. Even at a young age, Henry had the capacity to make things seem better effortlessly.
Abi took the flower and smiled. She put the flower to her nose, taking in the scent while her other hand reached out for Henry's. Her pale skin contrasted against Henry's slightly freckled hand.
Abi suddenly looked upward. The wind moved the clouds steadily across the sky.
'What does that one look like?' Abi asked, pointing to the east
'A whale! Just like the one we saw in that cartoon the other day!'
'Remember when it ate the mouse and the mouse built a house inside of its tummy and the chimney smoke would come out of its spout?'
Henry smiled. It was a wide warm smile. He was certainly enjoying every second of his ‘playtime’ with Abi.
'…. or that time when the mouse was chased by the fish that the whale also put in its mouth and the fish used the whale's tongue for a slide?' Henry asked.
'Hey, what does that one look like?' Henry was pointing upwards as though he had been nudged by something.
Abi followed his finger towards another cloud. It was a bit darker than the rest. It wasn’t true silver, but rather something that could cause much rain later. Its shape expanded as she watched it move across the sky. Abigail's smile vanished.
'Night People.' She said and held Henry's hand close to her. She looked over at Henry as he turned his head towards her. 'Henry, do you see Night People?'
'Night Pe
ople? What are they?' A now curious Henry asked.
Abi tightened her grip on Henry's hand and began,
'They...they...'
A voice suddenly broke the ominous mood.
'Abigail! Abigail! Time for bed! Your friend will have to go!' the words of her mother came out loud from the porch.
Abigail quickly turned to the direction of the voice releasing her grip.
'Night People? 'Henry called after her, clearly puzzled.
'I, I have to go.' Abigail got up sharply and ran off towards the direction of her mother's voice. She did this quickly – almost too quickly. Perhaps, it was in an effort to avoid giving an answer. Perhaps not. It did not matter. He knew he could ask her again the next day at school.
Henry got up slowly and waved at Abi before leaving her house. As he waved, he noticed a large crow perch on the fence to Abi's house. As if on cue, the bird turned its head towards Abigail, and then to him. Its jet black eyes had a look of menace, swiveling in their sockets in quick quarter turns. It then squawked three more times before flying away, leaving a baffled Henry who felt a strange feeling sweep over him right at that moment.
Chapter 2
Her house was nothing special. The entry way was cluttered with shoes. Each shoe had a purpose, as her mum would say. Abi's shoes were mostly worn to school and her mother had no difficulty noticing the mud from the garden.
'Looks like you have a fun time,' Abi's mother, Augustine Morose said. Augustine and her husband struggled with the English language. As political refugees originally from Eastern Europe, they made every effort, but English isn't ever an easy language for a foreign tongue.
'Sorry, mummy! We were just playing in the back. We got a bit muddy. Sorry.'
'Don't be sorry. Children and dirt is the fun of being a child. Now, don't let your father see your jacket dirt.' Augustine said with a smile as she started to wipe the grass off Abi's school jacket.
'Don't let pa see what?' The voice came from the living room as Abi's father, Alexandro walked over to the entryway. He was an older man. Some may say a bit too old to be Abi's real father, but Augustine never married him for his age. She married him because of the way she felt around him. Alexandro was a kind person who always looked out for his friends and neighbors and often extended this kindness as an example for his child. That's why Augustine loved him. She loved him for his irrefutable kindness.
Alexandro looked at his wife and then at his daughter. He extended a jeweled hand out and ruffled Abi's hair. 'I think mother missed spot cleaning you!'
Abi giggled and hugged her father. She thought he smelled like dried spices and something she couldn't quite place. Abi's father and mother held to the old ways. They tried their best to speak English for Abi so she would have an easier time at school. But it didn't help much. Indeed, Abi was subjected to the prejudices that many immigrants experience. Her only consolation was the friendship she shared with Henry
We have visitors, Abi. Here, come see.' Her father took her by the hand and led her towards the living room.
'Are you sure, Alexandro?' Augustine stopped her husband with a gentle hand on his arm.
'I am. There is a lot at stake here. It would be good for the girl to know the people she...' Alexandro stopped abruptly and squeezed her hand a bit more.
'It is nothing to worry about, Abigail. They are our old friends who shall be happy to see you. Some of them haven't seen you since you this big!' He held up his hand and pinched her nose to emphasize how tiny she might have been.
'Pa! You always say I was that big! I'm a big girl now.' Abigail exclaimed, in her six-year-old stature going on ten in wisdom.
'You are Abi. That you are.' A twinge of pain and sorrow came through in his voice. There was a sadness that Abi could sense, but she couldn't quite grasp why her father would be so sad if he was seeing some of his oldest friends.
Alexandro held Abi's hand and didn't say a word. He stared at her for a bit and his broad smile faded. For a second, he looked a lot older than his forty-five-year-old body normally showed.
'Go. Introduce Abi to them if you must, but time is short.' Augustine said, trying to dissolve the cloud of sadness that had already formed.
'Time? I know all about time. All too well.' Alexandro said, while reconstructing the smile on his face. He took Abi’s hand and led her into the living-room.
The room looked as though it were occupied, but it was sparse. Tapestries adorned the walls. Some of them seemed older than the house itself and the effects of time began to show as wear in the fabric which was apparent. One particular tapestry was new to the room, but it seemed older than the others decorating the house. An orange and golden hue swirled into its faded fabric. A small design of an ape-man with dreadful horns was featured in the center of the piece. A fox was at its throat. The fox had its teeth dug deep into the neck of the horned ape, but instead of blood, a black ooze came from the ape's neck. Under and above the scene were words that Abi simply could not make out.
'Pa? When did we get that?' Abi asked, her gaze fixated on the tapestry.
'That? That was a gift. But enough my girl. I brought you to meet some old friends!' Alexandro put both hands on Abi's shoulders from behind and presented her like a gift in front of him. He walked her to each of the three people sitting down on the wooden stools which the family always brought in from other rooms of the house to accommodate visitors.
Abi observed that they were all women, older than Alexandro and covered in dark headscarves. The first woman was not much taller than Abi was. A faint smell of spiced apple oozed from her clothing. She was a small and frail looking woman who left Abi wondering if she ever ate.
'Abi, I would like you meet Beth.'
Abi performed a quick, poised curtsey.
'Pleased to meet you, ma'am.'
'Ah, Abigail’, Beth started. ‘You look much like your grandmother. You have her eyes. Her eyes and much more, I'm afraid.' The 'I'm afraid' part of her unsolicited pep talk was barely audible. The old woman then placed her hand on Abi which sent a burning sensation through her body as though she made contact with fire. Abi resisted the urge to pull away for fear of offending her father's friend.
Alexandro smiled a bit less and broke the touch between Beth and Abi. Abi was thankful for her father’s timely intervention and while she felt the burning fade away, she could see the red imprint where Beth's hand had been.
'Abi, this is Iona'. The woman introduced to Abi appeared to be a taller version of Beth. Her hair was jet black save for a streak of white that poked out from under her scarf. Her face was stern, but a kindness was behind it.
'Iona and I grew up together before your mother and I met. She is like a sister to me.' Alexandro concluded.
Iona looked at Abi and smiled. The smile reminded Abi of the smile her dad always had on his face each time he was upset but didn't want her to know. Abi thought Iona smelled like old leaves though her skin was smooth to the touch.
'It is a pleasure meeting you, Abigail.'
'Thank you, ma'am.'
Alexandro walked Abigail towards the last visitor. A woman who looked nothing like the other two. Her eyes were coal black, as was her hair. Her skin was neither smooth nor pleasant looking. To Abi, it reminded her of a tree. There were deep wrinkles cut into the woman's arms and face, but her hands were covered in black gloves. She didn't smell like old leaves nor spiced apples. Abi couldn't decide what she smelled like.
'And I am Radica.' She said, introducing herself. Radica did not extend her hands, but just looked at Abi.
'Pleased to meet you, ma'am.' Abi replied.
Radica kept staring at Abigail and then moved swiftly like she was about to reach out and grab her. As if on cue, Alexandro drew Abi back quickly to everyone's surprise.
Augustine rushed over to her daughter. 'I'm sorry, but you must excuse us. The young one must go to bed.'
Radica sank slowly into her seat and Abi made her way behind her mother. Alexandro looked apologeticall
y at his wife, 'Yes, of Course, where is the common sense of mine! She has to sleep. She has a big school day tomorrow!'
Beth looked over to Abi and Augustine. 'Yes, of course. ‘Tis good for young to sleep. Early bed, early rise. This did our people no harm back home.'
Iona smiled up at them and spoke 'Destul de fata.' She carefully took out a small metallic ornate perfume bottle from a small sac that hung down by her feet. The perfume bottle seemed to have more years than all of the room's inhabitants.
'Oil. Frankincense. Special. From home. Please, put on little one tonight. Very important.' Beth said as Augustine took the bottle from Iona. She dipped her head slightly in a somewhat subservient bow to Iona, Beth and Radica. She then turned to usher Abigail up the stairs towards the girl's bedroom. She stopped half way and asked Alex to serve their guests some tea before she returned.
Alexandro nodded and disappeared towards the kitchen. Abi snuck a peak down from the stairs and noticed her father walk to the back room instead of the kitchen. When she peeped further, she saw two of the ladies looking towards her father, making gestures. Abi couldn't hear their words and it seemed as though Radica was the only one seemingly not interested in what her father was doing. Instead, she looked up at Abi for a moment and grinned. Her grin revealed a set of blackened teeth and a yellow-tinged clicking tongue that sent chills of fear down Abi’s spine. She turned away quickly and ran up the stairs, past her mother, her heart pounding loudly in her chest.
Chapter 3
Bryan wasn't much of a husband or son. He wasn't much of a father either. The only thing that Bryan could do right was get in trouble. Tonight was his encore.
He lay across a sofa. An arm hung down with fingers dug into a cigarette burn on a carpet. His other hand reached for one of the lager cans on the floor. 'We need more of these!' he yelled.
A baffled old woman looked over at her middle-aged son. 'I think you've had enough Bryan. Isn't it time you cleaned up?' The woman was Danielle Davis. But more importantly, she was Laura's grandmother. She considered Laura to be the only good thing her son had ever done in his life. Laura, her little angel, hugged closely into her side. Danielle put a protective hand around her grandchild.