by John DeJordy
The dragon leaned in and sniffed its prize. The stench of rotten flesh from the dragon's mouth almost gagged Picayune. A black cloud of vapor seeped from the beast's nostrils as a forked tongue licked the warrior's face.
“A small, but tasty morsel you are. Your struggles only entertain me more.” It flexed its claws on his chest. His weakened armor started to compress, crushing the breath out of him.
Picayune's eyes bulged and he gritted his teeth. “You shall never win!”
The dragon snorted. It bounced a few times until sounds of pain escaped the warrior's mouth.
Picayune thrashed until his shield hand connected with his pouch. He remembered Dauphine’s father's droning words, which he heard so many times before. “My gems share a unique nature. The magical properties are released by cracking them cleanly in two.”
With his hand in the pouch, he felt for the gem as the dragon pinioned on his hand, nearly crushing it. He yelled in agony and searched desperately. As he wrapped his hand around the jewel, the dragon pressed again on his hand. The sharp edges of the gem cut into his flesh. His eyes rolled back as searing pain coursed through his body. He struggled to remove the gem from its leather container. When the gem was finally freed, he summoned his last bit of dwindling strength and struck the gem against the sharp edge of a nearby stalagmite. The force of the blow cut the gem in two equal pieces, but almost severed his purplish, crushed hand as well. His fingers flailed and blood gushed from the wound. He flexed his fingers and tried to hold onto the pieces of gem before they fell into a murky pool.
The dragon hissed, coiling its neck back. The massive jaws opened wide to bite Picayune, but the water started to bubble and drew the dragon’s attention at the last moment.
The halves glowed under the black liquid, obscured at first, but growing in intensity. The monster started its deadly lunge as time slowed for Picayune. The gem halves boiled away the water in the small pool before rising into the air. They spun in place, then burst into a blinding light. The rays erupted into a flare so strong that, for a brief moment, all the shadows in the chamber were eradicated. Wherever the rays of light touched the beast, the beams solidified, as if spears were holding the dragon's attack in place. Blood oozed from each of the wounds. Picayune shielded his eyes while the light continued to grow.
The dragon roared in pain, rearing back into the ceiling, causing a massive amount of stone to come crashing down to the shaking ground. The dragon released its hold, letting Picayune gasp for air. Picayune rolled out of the way of the falling debris, retrieving his sword with his good hand. He rushed the beast before it landed, slicing the foreleg that had pinned him down with such force he almost removed the limb. The wound no longer healed, and spewed gouts of dark gore.
Picayune staggered back, his damaged arm dangling. Drops of blood stained the ground. He watched the dragon's scales dissolve into a smoky liquid from the released magical energy. Each ray of power caused the dragon to yelp in pain while black ichor gushed from its wounds. The dragon fell to its stomach, blinded by the illumination.
Picayune approached the creature. Stepping up to its face, he drew back his sword. The dragon's eyes narrowed as the knight blocked the light with his body. It summoned the last bit of strength and lunged at Picayune.
The dragon grabbed Picayune around the waist as they both crashed into the stones’ blinding illumination. The last thing that touched Picayune was the monstrosity's tongue before the light engulfed them both.
Chapter 2
Picayune blinked to clear the fog from his vision as the dream of the dragon’s tongue turned into a dream of a pet’s long tongue licking his face. He sat up in bed and pushed his worm, Wiggles, off of him. He struggled to escape from the tangled blankets holding him hostage. Free, he shuffled to the mirror and observed himself.
“I am just a dormouse. Nothing like that would ever happen to me.” He turned from the mirror and gathered his simple leathers. After putting them on, he lumbered downstairs to his father's shop and continued to rub the sleep from his eyes.
Picayune stretched as he reached the bottom step. When he entered the shop, he stood silently and watched his father, Jocund. His father's large, muscular form allowed him to easily manipulate the bellows and iron as he worked hard at making metal boots for the local riders.
Jocund faced his son. “Morning, sleepy head. Decided to sleep in today?”
Picayune shook his head and yawned once more. “No, Dad, I was dreaming of an adventure like the stories you tell about when you were young.”
Jocund bellowed cheerfully and ruffled his son's hair. “I wish I could have that kind of adventure again. Perhaps in a few years you will experience what you dream, but you are young yet, and the whole world will still be there. I fed the animals, just clean up the shop for me.”
Picayune had grabbed a broom and started sweeping the floor when Ameera skipped in with their daily bread. Her family ran the local bakery.
She waved a friendly greeting. “Good morning!”
Picayune stared at his friend and stopped the movement of his broom. Looking into the beauty of her eyes caused shivers down his spine again, just like the first time they’d met. His heart throbbed harder this time. She was wearing a green dress with a white apron. He’d always had a crush on her, but was too bashful to tell her.
Ameera stood there for a few moments waiting for a reply. When Picayune didn't say anything, she waved. “Well, I have other deliveries. See you later, Pica.”
Picayune watched her long tail swinging side to side. After she had disappeared from sight, he called out, “Hi.”
Jocund noticed the exchange and went over to his son. “Does she know you like her?”
“Of course, Dad, we've been friends a long time,” he blurted out, turning away from his father and moving the broom faster.
His father only smirked. “I saw the way you looked at her, my son. If you feel that way, tell her.”
“Oh, Dad!” He returned to his chores and cleaned the floor while his mind drifted. I can’t let him know I really like her. I don’t think I am good enough for her with all the other well-to-do dormice in the village. He wouldn’t understand. He put the thoughts out of his mind and busied himself with cleaning the rest of his father's shop. It took him past midday to finish. He was on his way outside when he heard a commotion in the town square.
Timorous, one of the Taiga riders, had gathered a small crowd around him. Picayune managed to squeeze through the circle and listened to what his friend was saying.
“It was horrible! The beast came from nowhere and scattered us like the wind. Before any of us knew what was happening, the thing had taken out two of us. Its tail moved back and forth like a serpent. We drew our swords and rushed in, but it proved remarkably agile for its size. It hissed at us – oh, that hideous noise! It swiped at us with razor claws. Four of us were wounded in a single blow. Ritz managed to get its notice, but the thing pounced on him and pinned him to the ground. It looked at us with those hideous yellow eyes. It glanced at us to make sure we were watching, then dealt the deathblow to Ritz while we watched, helpless to do anything. We formed up and quickly decided one of us should get back here to warn people. I was chosen because I was the fastest. As I retreated, I could hear the cries of the others.” He paused looked down at his feet, and began to weep. In between sobs, he managed to say, “It's back!”
Picayune moved up to try to comfort him. “What is back, Tim?” He stared in shock at the blood dripping from a gash on Timorous' arm.
“Dragon! Dragon has returned!” he blurted out before falling to the ground, unconscious.
Murmurs went through the crowded town square.
“What are we going to do?”
The mayor of the town, Hyas-Tyee, stepped forward with his arms in the air. “Listen! First, bring Tim to the barracks to recover. Second, we will deal with this. The committee will hold an emergency meeting to decide what to do about this menace. For now, please disperse an
d go about your business.” Hyas-Tyee took his role very seriously and always managed to keep calm. He could talk to anyone with ease and made folk feel like he truly cared about any situation.
“Picayune!” A familiar, sweet sounding voice made his ears tingle right away, even over the chatter.
He greeted her happily. “Yes, Ameera?” His smile disappeared when he saw the look of concern in her eyes. He held her paws in his and rubbed the top of her knuckles with his thumbs.
Tears formed in her eyes. “My cousin was on the patrol! I need to find out if he is all right.”
“I am sure he got away. After the committee decides. . .”
“No! It will be too late!” She pulled away from him and ran down the cobblestone street on the way to her house.
I will go speak to her after she has calmed down a little, he thought. Part of him wanted to run after her. He returned the shop where his Dad was busy firing up the forge.
His father pressed the bellows up and down at a steady pace. “She looked pretty upset, son.”
Picayune gazed down as he moved one foot around a spot on the floor. “Oh, you saw that?”
“My son, times like these are when people need their friends. She came to you for a reason.”
“What reason is that, Dad?”
Jocund chortled deeply. He stopped his work and folded his arms across his chest. “You will have to figure that out on your own.”
He fidgeted more. “She will be fine. I will check up on her after the announcement.” With no further response from his father, he headed to his room.
As dusk approached, he heard Gofer, the town crier. “Hear me! Hear me! Everyone is asked to come to the town hall immediately.” His voice echoed the same warning as he ran by each house.
Everyone moved from their homes to the center of town. By the time Picayune had arrived at the large building, he was far in the back. He stood tiptoe on one of the seats and managed to spot his father on stage with the rest of the committee and the mayor.
Hyas-Tyee called out, “May I have it quiet, please?” The murmurs stopped and everyone listened to him. “After much debate, we have decided to try to remove the Dragon menace once and for all. We would like volunteers to go after the creature. If you wish to do this, meet here tomorrow morning at dawn. Jocund will outfit as many volunteers as he can supply. I know your concerns, but we need to do this or the creature might find its way here.”
Hyas-Tyee paused, the look of anxiety in the crowd prompting him to add, “We have also dispatched a rider to the king in hopes he can lend us aid.” He quickly looked at the council behind him. They grumbled at an announcement that was supposed to be private. He whispered back to them, “They needed some additional comfort and I made the decision.” He seemed relieved when he saw the added words have the planned effect on the crowd. People looked relieved.
A lone voice shouted, “We will win this fight!” A slow chant began. Whispers of success overcame the ones of concern.
The mayor raised his hands. “Go home now and rest, tomorrow we shall prove why our hamlet is the best!”
A chorus of cheers rang through the crowd as they began to file out of the town hall. Picayune stood aside and strained to see just one amongst the throngs. He didn't see her in the crowd.
Picayune ran over to the baker, Boulanger. “Where is Ameera?”
The baker's expression turned serious. “I thought she was with you?”
“I only saw her earlier today. She was upset and running home.”
“Aye, I know, but afterwards she said she wanted to talk to you and go to the meeting with you.”
They made their way to the baker's house around the people gathered outside to talk about the meeting. They burst into the house and both cried out Ameera's name, but no reply came. The baker went into her room with Picayune right on his tail. The normally perfectly kept, quaint room was in disarray.
“Nooooo!” Ameera's father cried, pushing Picayune out of the way and bounding down the stairs to the kitchen. There, he discovered a small block of cheese missing. He continued his mad dash around the house and ran into his bedroom to discover his sword had been taken as well.
“Foolish girl, she has run off!” He grabbed Picayune by the shoulders. “You must save her!”
Picayune managed to squirm out of his grasp. He left the baker to weep and ran home.
Chapter 3
Dawn came quickly as Picayune thrashed in his bed. A distant noise could be heard outside. He pushed Wiggles aside and went to the window to see what was happening.
In the distance, he could see a few torches in front of the town hall illuminating a cart. Although the figures were still draped in darkness, he could make out the silhouette of his father handing out supplies to the dozen or so figures gathered there. By the time the sun had removed all the shadows, the last of the volunteers had been outfitted.
Picayune went downstairs and started to make breakfast. He had just finished setting up the dishes and flatware on the wooden table in the kitchen when his father entered from the back.
His father sat down in his usual spot and inhaled deeply. “Smells good.”
Picayune placed a large helping of food on both plates. He set the serving dish on the table, then sat in his chair. Picayune sat quietly, moving the food around his plate with his fork. After a long silence, still looking down at his plate, he managed to speak. “Dad?”
His father finished chewing, licked the taste of his breakfast from his whiskers, and looked at his son. “Yes?”
“What do you think of me for not volunteering?” His words were slow and soft, and he continued to look at his food.
Jocund put his fork down and moved around the table. He sat on the bench next to his son and pulled him close. “I will always love you, Picayune. No matter what you do, no matter what decisions you make, I will always be very proud of who you are.” When Picayune still averted his gaze, he lifted his son's chin with a finger to stare into his eyes.
Picayune's voice was still soft as he tried to suppress his urge to cry. “I don't know what to do.”
“We must all make decisions which define who we are. Those are the choices you must discover. In the end, what matters is what you think of your actions.”
Picayune hugged his father tightly again. “I miss Mom.”
Jocund returned the embrace. “I miss her too, but I see her every day.”
Puzzled, Picayune tilted his head to one side and twitched his ear.
His father placed his hand on Picayune's chest. “She will always be in here. Late at night, I still hear her voice, smell her light perfume, and feel her love.”
Picayune nodded, still not wanting to raise his voice. “Dad?”
“Yes, Pica?”
“I want to help. I want to find Ameera.”
His father beamed proudly at his son. “Wait here.” Jocund disappeared from Picayune's view when he went into his workshop. While Picayune cleaned off the table, the creak of wooden hinges echoed through the house along with metal clanging against metal. After a few minutes, Jocund appeared, his arms filled with equipment.
Picayune put the dishes in the sink. “What's all that?”
Dropping his load on the table, Jocund called his son over. Picking up a green gambeson, he pulled it over Picayune's head and down his torso. Next, he put a specially made chain shirt on his son. Jocund handed the belt and scabbard to Picayune. As Picayune buckled the belt at his waist, his father fitted him with a helmet that seemed just a tad too large. He picked up a metal shield with the emblem of two trees side by side with their branches entwined and handed it to his son.
Picayune looked at his new outfit, unsure how he felt about it. He stood silently for a few seconds. “Thanks, Dad.”
Jocund stepped up to the hearth and removed a wooden jewelry box from the mantel. Picayune had always wondered what was in the box. It had been there for as long as he could remember. Jocund blew dust off the surface and opened the aged
case with care. He pulled out a semispherical, teak lavaliere with leather straps and handed it to Picayune.
Picayune rotated it in his hands and noticed the inscription on the back. He read it aloud:
When all things seem lost,
And there is nothing more to exhaust.
Reach inside the locket and remove its contents.
Crack the gift into two equal segments.
Toss into the air the pieces of light,
And watch the area around you grow bright.
Evil will wane and melt away,
Victory will be yours on this day.
Jocund gently plucked the locket from Picayune's small hand and cradled it for a moment in his own work-calloused paw. A tear formed in his eye. “This was a gift from your mother.” He allowed it to dangle freely while he firmly tied it around Picayune's neck. “She wanted me to give it to you when the time was right.”
Picayune started to open the locket, but was stopped by his father. “Only open it when there is no other way.”
The previous night’s dream flashed into Picayune's mind, confusing him. He dismissed it, thinking he must have heard his mother reciting the poem when he was little. He nodded, tucking the necklace under his shirt. He hugged his father again. “I shall make you proud.” He walked out back to get his ride.
“I have always been proud of you,” Jocund whispered as a tear rolled down his cheek.
Chapter 4
Picayune shielded his eyes from the sun cresting over the tree tops. The sky seemed bluer today and free from clouds. A warm wind caressed his face and tickled his whiskers. He closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the sensation.
“What you doing?” a voice asked.
Picayune opened his eyes. “Oh, just enjoying the breeze, Swift-Hopper.” He looked up into sienna eyes. His friend stood taller than most kangaroo rats, easily one and a half times Picayune's height. Picayune walked over to the covered enclosure in their fenced-in back yard. He picked up the tack, harness, and saddle and whirled around to see his friend right in front of him.