Purple (The Dragon of Unison Book 1)

by M J Porter

  He rushed forwards towards the tangled remains of Speaker and broken rock. All around him he could see the Others standing, sullen and quiet. Many of them also seemed to be dripping the same red substance as the one he had rescued. A part of his overwhelmed mind vaguely wondered how severe the tremor had been. It had obviously affected other parts of the cave system. He hoped that none of his family were trapped by rock falls.

  The Others all looked at him and their stance told him everything he needed to know. There was nothing to be done. The Speaker was dead. The fallen rock had crushed his massive head and now purple blood oozed all over the dark stone floor. He wrenched his eyes away from the shocking scene before him. What was he to do now? His training was nowhere near complete. He should have had years to learn his trade from the Speaker. Once he had realised his time was nearly at an end this Speaker should have allowed him deep within the Archives and there offered advice and guidance. That meant only one thing. The current Speakers death had not been foretold. It was unheard of.

  He had received no advice, no words; no nothing from the current Speaker. Until now, he had not even known what he looked like, other than that he would possess the same glowing green eyes that he himself had. All he knew was that he had been bequeathed a legacy he knew nothing about. How was he to guide his kind now?

  He returned to his pool, shocked and unsure what else to do. He submerged himself in the gently steaming water. He needed to think, and this was where he had always retreated to do so in the past. All around him he could sense the shuffling of the Others. He tuned them out, aware only that they were doing as they should. They knew their duties. He just wished he did.

  The images above his head were revolving as normal; only as he focused on a bright scene he had not glimpsed before did he realise that all the images were new to him. Always before the pictures had been the same, and he knew them by heart. There were views of his home within the cave system; views of his kind and the Others, and views of the stars and planets which lived in the, previously off limits, sky. He gasped in astonishment as he watched the pictures change and a calming prescence enter his mind explaining all he saw. Above his head the images were showing him what to do now. But how could the images know that the Speaker was dead?

  He absorbed what he saw, worried that he had already missed much that he needed to know. It was with relief that he realised the pictures had started to repeat.

  He lay in the water as the entire sequence coalesced three times. Only then did he feel able to move; to walk towards his new home and his new duties. He felt calmer, more assured. The future no longer scared, but excited him.

  * * *

  For a number of days Greeneyes returned periodically to his pool from the cave which he had now adopted as his own. The Others had seen to the removal of the body of his predecessor, and somehow, had even managed to move the mammoth rock which had been his death knoll.

  Each time the images were new and different, whilst the presence remained calm and orderly within his mind. All of the instructions taught him how to be the Speaker.

  He was now the most powerful amongst his kind and he had freedoms he had never thought imaginable. He could leave the sanctuary of his home; in fact, it was his duty to fly the length and breadth of his huge, cold land each year to ensure all was well and to note any irregularities in ice formation, mountain structure or in the extent of the Others habitations. He must also check the structure of the wall which masked their existence and carry out any necessary repairs. The presence implied that further instructions would be forthcoming, if and when, repairs were needed. Greeneyes had not even been aware of the wall before he saw it in the images and instantly wondered how and why it worked.

  There were images of the Others and the presence warned that his own people should mix only with those who resided within the caves. There was an explanation at last, of why his kind lived separate from the Others, and why their existence was a closely guarded secret from the rest of the Others. It had not always been but the Others were ruthless killers, intent only on murdering as many of his kind as they could. His kind had retreated to the cave and behind their shield to keep their population save from the savages. Images showed scores of his dead being trampled over by the Others, and robbed for their shining eyes and glittering scales.

  Those who served him now were a select few who had sought shelter with them and offered to serve in thanks. Their descendants now served in their places and were not allowed to leave the cave to return to their own people. If they attempted it, he had a duty to return them to the cave or to kill them if they refused. The thought was not comforting but explained the presence of a race that the majority of his kind knew nothing about. Their presence on his land explained all the strictures about remaining within the cave system and not venturing outside the sheltered inner cave systems. He wondered how he had come to know of the Others but to never speak of them to his family. He did not remember being told to not to mention them. Was there some greater force at work that even now he was not aware of?

  Eventually a day came when he had no new images to see and the presence in his head, quietened. He worried briefly, spending much of the day lying in the pool waiting for more strictures before coming to the conclusion that he must have been taught everything he needed to know, for now. He retreated back to his new home.

  He took to spending much of the time on his icy ledge which afforded him beautiful views of his homeland and which lay next to his own personal cavern. He was not forced to dwell within the huge cavern where his predeccesor had met his death. His green eyes allowed him to see even in the darkness. In the far distance he could see the faint purple shimmer of the wall which it was now his duty to maintain. He could also see a dazzling vista of sparking stars in the permanent midnight sky and could see them mirrored in the icy surface of the glacier his home perched near.

  All that he had learnt lead him to pity the Others. They knew so little. Soon they would erupt forth from their Long Night prisons and he knew that then he would have to fly further than he ever had before. He would need to check their current numbers. It was vitally important that he do so. It was easier to do in the Long Day. Whilst his eyesight meant he could see regardless of the presence of the Sun, the Others struggled more. They could not endure the freezing conditions and so remained in their own homes for all the Long Night. It was impossible to count them whilst the Sun refused to rise and they remained locked up tight to keep warm. In a few days he would be able to. He looked forward to the challenge, and waited, somewhat impatiently for the Sun to finally crest the horizon.

  * * *

  By the time the sun had finally risen he had almost decided upon making his voyage, sunlight or not. As such it was a huge relief when he woke from his comfortable stone bed thirty days after becoming Speaker and noticed the pale ray of purple sunlight touching the far reaches of his cave, where it joined with his ledge. At last.

  Whilst his journey had originally filled him with intrepidation when the prescence had first explained it to him, he was now so excited and intrigued that the pure physical test ahead no longer seemed daunting. He had fed well yesterday in anticipation of his decision to go today, sunrise or not and now he was ready. He walked towards his new ledge and positioning himself near the edge of the sharp drop, which descended almost beyond sight below him, he made a mighty sweep of his wings, testing them once or twice before lifting himself off the frozen rock. The sharp wind aided his buoyancy as he worked out how to balance himself. With exhilaration he moved away from the ledge, flying free and easily for the first time in his life as his golden wings pumped up and down in the glow of the first sunrise. In the past he had been restricted to the inner caves. This was a totally new experience.

  He flew directly forwards, across the expanse of the massive glacier which bordered his home and reflected his own image back to him. His speed amazed him and it took until the sun was high in the pale sky before he started to notice anything el
se about the landscape below him and then it’s diversity amazed him. From the frozen green rivers to the frigid blue glaciers, the snow encrusted purple high peaked mountains, to the deep green sea trapped for the time being under the ice and the black topped mountains with no snow on their peaks.

  He looked for the homes of the Others but it was impossible to see details of their habitation as the snow still lay too deep. He looked below him at the sparking expanse of shimmering snow, above him at the low lying fluffy clouds and at the orange sun where it pulsed weakly in the clear sky. As he hovered over the ice locked sea he turned and looked at the distance he had flown back towards his own snow shrouded home, barely discernable from all the other mountains which dotted the landscape.

  Everything he saw was perfect and pristine, new and fresh. He saw everything with fresh eyes. It was one thing to see his home on the images on the cave wall. It was quite another to see it for real and to know that he was now the only one of his kind who would see what he saw, until his own life ended.

  The wind was gentle on his face, only ccasionally buffeting him. When it did he temporarily lost his height and had to work again to regain it. He was not used, as were none of his kind, to being out in the open. They were restricted to their own home in the giant extinct volcanoes where the wind speed and direction were regulated. Away from his safe home it was another matter entirely. Greeneyes knew he should feel worried. He wasn’t. The thrill of it all was too much. Such freedom. He had never thought his new position would afford him such luxury.

  As he flew he felt strong and with each downward stroke of his wings, he seemed to gain strength, not lose it, as he had feared. Then he saw it in his peripheral vision; one of the Others, outside one of their homes. If he had thought them small before, now they appeared miniscule from his great height. What he assumed was their home appeared as a small snow covered rock some wing strokes later. Only its regular shape confirming what it was.

  Following his first success he looked more keenly and even flew much closer to the snow encased land in an effort to see them. He didn’t. Not anywhere he looked. None of them. He saw what he assumed were more homes, but never another Other. It made him wonder. He flew and continued looking, only becoming conscious of how long he had been gone when the multitude of stars, his firm friends for the last thirty days, began to sparkle, crystalline, in the blackening sky above his head. It was a beautiful crisp evening and yet the wind was bitterly cold, even through his tough skin.

  With a final glance at the ice locked ocean he turned and beat his huge wings, steadily home. He was shocked. The wind was battering against him making every downward stroke an effort, whilst he had to restrain his upward strokes from cracking upwards too quickly. He began to feel the first stirrings of fear. For every one of his great wing strokes he moved only a little way forward. His speed of earlier had vanished.

  Battling his fear he decided on an alternative plan. He fought his way higher and higher. So high, the land was a tiny, shining multi-hued jewel beneath him. Up so high the going was easier, sort of. The wind was less strong but there also seemed to be less of everything, and he found himself struggling for air to fill his mighty lungs. After only a few short moments, his wings seemed to double in weight and he was left with no choice but to return closer to the ground.

  As he dropped lower his wings returned to their normal weight and the wind to its previous ferocity. Feeling exhausted Greeneyes decided there was nothing for it. He would land and wait out the night before returning home in the first rays of sunlight. He was becoming aware of his limitations and also starting to understand the warning from his lessons in the cave. He must only fly during the daylight hours.

  He had not practiced landing in the open before and it took him a few moments to get both front claws down at the same time on the piece of land he chose to spend the night. It seemed less exposed than much of the land around him, although in the dusk, it was difficult to correctly identify all the dips and peaks of the land.

  He landed with a loud thump on a rocky outcropping. His eyes could see no hidden caves and so he curled up for the night, his mighty head under his majestic wing. His tough hide would keep his head warm all night long, and with daybreak he would be able to resume flying. The prospect excited him more than scared him and he contentedly prepared to rest.

  The wind continued to howl and an initial spattering of snow soon became a full blown storm. As it landed on his hide he smiled. It felt soft and he idly wondered if when he woke he would look like a snow encased rock. The thought amused him and he found himself laughing inside. He felt free and he felt powerful. It was intoxicating.

  He also found he was in pain. All across his long back there was a stabbing sensation which he had never experienced before. He realised instantly that it must be caused by the distance he had flown that day. He hoped the pain would lesson by the sunrise as otherwise it would be painful to fly. It was already more than a little uncomfortable to curl his head under his wing. He tried changing wings but they both equally hurt his back the same. In the end he decided he would keep his head out of his wings. It was just too uncomfortable to keep it covered. He would be warm enough and he would be able to watch for the first rays of sunlight. He felt too exhilarated to close his eyes anyway.

  As fall dark settled he contented himself with looking at where he had chosen to make his bed for the night. He was near an exposed ridge which seemed to stretch for a long distance to either side of where he lay. He thought that below the ridge there was part of his own glacier and in the same moment realised that he had managed to fly against the force of the wind for longer than he’d thought. He was note far from home after all. But as the wind continued to howl, and the snow to fall in huge sheeting gusts, he decided he had made the correct decision to stop and wait out the storm. There were currently none of his kind who shared his special ability and it would not do if he killed himself in the wind and left no one to govern his kind.

  At some point during the long night he became aware of a constant noise. It was loud or faint, depending on the wind but it was always there. He tried to ignore it but found he could not. He also felt a strange ‘something’ pressing on his mind, as if it was shouting for his attention. Eventually he lumbered back to his feet and followed both the audible noise, and that which hung in his mind, hoping to find its source. It was deepest black all around him, only his keen eyes allowed him to pick a path from his temporary resting place to where he hoped the source of the noise was. The wind still screeched and he pulled his lower eyelids down to protect them from the constantly blowing snow.

  As he came closer to the source of the noise, he started to notice small filled in prints in the snow. They made him wonder if perhaps one of the Others had come this way and was responsible for the noise? He considered stopping there and then, after all, he had been warned to stay away from them and following his experience with flying at night he was tempted to heed the advice. Half turned to head back towards his restinng place, his curiosity overcame his caution and he found himself continuing to follow the prints and the noise. He looked behind him as he went and realised that he was leaving huge prints in the snow, which clearly showed his five claws. He dropped his tail into the soft substance in order to obscure the signs of his passage. He really did not want one of the Others to find his prints and wonder where they came from. It was forbidden for him to expose himself or his kind to any of the Others who did not live within the cave.

  As he came closer to the noise he detected a definite weakening in it. He assumed that it was becoming weak with exhaustion. He hurried on with a now desperate desire to see what it was and help it if he could.

  After a few more dragon lengths, his eyes found and fixed on a small bundle on a rocky outcropping. By now the noise had fallen to a soft whimper both audible and within his mind and he hurried forward, concern getting the better of any doubts he had about his actions.

  In only moments he looked down on the small
bundle and he realised with shock that it was one of the Others, only a very small one. It’s face was red from screaming and ite eyes were slowly closing and opening as it fought the cold. He realised its thoughts must have been trying to inflitrate his mind before but that now those thoughts were faint. He reached out to touch it with one of his claws and could feel the cold emanating from its entire body above and beyond his own chill. He retracted his claw. The Other caught sight of him and let out a pitifully brief screech before lapsing into silence. It seemed to have kicked free of most of its coverings, which lay scattered around it and lay with its body exposed to the harsh chill. It was also perilously close to the edge of the rock. He peered over and saw the long drop to the glacier below which he felt sure would kill this little thing if it should fall.

  He looked all around him for whoever had bought the bundle but could see nothing. The tiny Other was alone. Then his eyes alighted on the prints he had been following. He could tell now that they led both here and then away from the ridge. He was shocked. The bundle had been left here on purpose. Why? He could not comprehend why the small Other had been abandoned in this way.

  He didn’t know what made him do it but he reached forward and picked the bundle up in his giant front claws. It had stoped crying now and had its eyes closed. His mind was now free from its thoughts. Greeneyes looked at it in wonder. He had never seen a small Other before, and it fascinated him. It looked just like those who dwelled within his cave, but it was tiny. He wondered why it had not just walked away on its own.