The Great Losing: The Mad Dragon King (The World of Shestafa )

by Karine Green

  "You chew on it. It's good for young dragon teeth." He smiled at her look, "Go on, try it. You will see," he said, pointing to it.

  "I am not putting that in my mouth." Demi made a face and set the antlers on the rustic wooden table. She looked around the room. It was a two-room cabin, with an upper loft. Its amenities, or lack thereof, were like something out of the medieval era. She walked over to the little room off to the side of the living room-kitchen -- if that is what it could be called.

  "You know, Lady, it might be more comfortable to walk on all four of your legs. You are a quadruped, and walking on two legs will give you a terrible backache," he said, setting a teapot on the old potbelly stove.

  She frowned at him, but put her hand, no, paws down on the ground. It was more comfortable.

  "I brought your father's daybed for you to sleep in while you're here since your own furniture wouldn't fit in that room. I also brought some of your favorite scrolls from when you were little, and some of your father's scrolls and records for you to read." He pulled down a china tea set from a shelf that was suspended with tied off ropes.

  Demi nodded, understanding what he was saying, but she didn’t have a clue what he meant. She walked into the room. "I thought you said there was a bed in here."

  "The pea gravel box in the corner. Pea gravel was your father's favorite bedding."

  "Pea gravel! Blue, even the foster-monsters gave me better than that." She trotted over to it, grieved that walking on all fours was more comfortable.

  "Just go check it out. I'll have the tea in a few minutes, and then you'll remember everything."

  She sniffed it and pawed at it with her claws. A sweet, comforting earthen smell filled her nostrils. The smell of her father caused memories to come crashing in on her. He used to catch rabbits for her to eat. She had been cared for-loved-cherished.

  Daddy..." she whispered, nuzzling her snout into the pea gravel. She climbed in and rolled around in it before settling to lay on her side. "I remember laying in here with my father, taking naps when I was a child." She paused. "No, when I was a pup. Dragons have pups, not children. Humans have children."

  "Yes," she heard Blue say from the little kitchen.

  She lay there looking around the room. "I know these things. These were some of my toys, the drawing on the wall is that of my parents. The horn crown on the writing desk was that of the Earth Dragon Minister. It belonged to my father."

  "It is your crown now, Great Lady."

  She dug her snout into the pea gravel one more time, before walking over to the chairless writing desk. It was designed for a dragon to use by sitting on the hindquarters.

  “I remember this.” It was her mother's desk. She sat like a dog at it, looking at the horn crown. It reminded her of her plastic, golden hair cone for making a high ponytail. She held it up to eye level. The design was intricately carved. It displayed mountains with a sunrise, trees, and a little dragon pup playing.

  "Do you recognize the pup?" Blue asked, setting a large tea cup next to her. It reminded her of those large tea cup planters that had been popular a while ago.

  "The little pup playing, is me. I was born to older parents who didn't think they would ever have a pup of their own. I was a treasured, spoiled; only pup to Tiberius and Le-Teigh of the Earth Dragon Ministry." Tears welled in her eyes as she glanced over at the drawing of her parents. She set the horn crown on its little wooden display. "The village jeweler made this for him when I was born – hatched."

  "Here, this will bring back all your memories." He nudged the tea toward her.

  The tears escaped. She shook her head. "I don't want to remember that I was never meant to be a ward of the state...to people who didn't really want me...I don't want to remember having parents who loved me...it hurts too much."

  "Then let your logic serve you. You were a small pup, but the memories you have will keep you safe, and allow you to adjust to being a dragon again."

  She nodded, and sipped the tea, holding the oversized tea cup with her claws. She closed her eyes. She remembered being in her mother's pouch...two months too long. Most pups were 'kicked' out between three and six months old. She’d been eight months old. She’d poked her head out to see her father's smiling face.

  'It's okay Dunia, I have some fresh rabbit right here for you," her father said, holding up a piece of fresh rabbit. "I skinned it for you. If you like, we can have the village jeweler facet your claws for you? Wouldn't that be pretty and grown up?"

  She remembered being hungry. Her parents had concluded that at eight months old, she should eat outside the pouch, and then nap properly in her own pea gravel canopy bed. It was big enough for a little earth pup to burrow in. She had eaten the entire rabbit. Then as her parents tucked her into her own bed, in her own room, with all her toys around her mother whispered to her. "I am sorry sweetheart, but you are just too big." Then her mother kissed her good night by licking her forehead. That was of her first memories, being loved and cared for.

  "Are you remembering?"

  She smiled, and then fought back tears as her throat begin to burn with emotion, "I was definitely spoiled."

  Blue nodded, "But, I think it was in a good way. Rest today, and we'll get started on the rest of your education in the morning." He patted her front shoulder.

  "Blue."

  "Yes."

  "Can you pretty-please bring me the antlers?"

  He smiled. "It would be my pleasure, Lady Dunia."

  The Forgottenness Blessing

  Mack wasn't sure how long he had slept before he heard voices outside of the little cave. His first instinct was to run out and ask if he could use their phone, then he glanced down at his paw. He opened and closed his paw, looking closely at it. He was still a dragon. He listened for a moment before doing anything rash. Supposedly, there were hunters about- no sense in volunteering to have his head hung on someone’s wall.

  "This is a fresh kill spot." A voice came from outside.

  "How can ya tell it’s the dragon? It coulda been a big cat?" A younger sounding voice asked.

  "Dragons. Look at the blood, and there isn't even so much as an antler left. Dragon pups like to chew on antlers, especially as they pass through the final phase into adulthood. Plus, see these scorch marks? Why did she cook it?" The voice sounded confused.

  "Umphm," another older male voice grunted in agreement. "It's the Red Dragon, alright, but she doesn't usually cook her meals. Do you think she is working with a rider? A human rider would need the food cooked. Maybe one of the refugees snuck out of the prison camp and found her."

  "No, look at the tracks. These are not human. There are two dragons," yet another voice said.

  "Hush, not so loud!" An older, gruff voice said. "Look at this. The claws cut through the ground, rather than digging it up. Do you suppose she has found another Elemental Dragon? This isn't good. Now we have to figure out what sort of dragon it is. Instinct and biology will kick in, and then we'll have more than just two dragons to contend with. Older adolescent dragons can produce pups. They have no morals about it either. And, dragon pups come out of the pouch hungry for raw meat. If you have forgotten all those years ago, the Fire Dragon Minister called the villagers of Dragons Lance a raw meat factory."

  "Yeah, I 'member... mountin' 'is head ona wall at the tavern. And this obsidian dragon claw knife is the best," another voice said. Mack wasn't sure, but the accent reminded him of uneducated people.

  Mack picked his head up, and turned to Méi, nudging her awake with his snout, because he was afraid to poke her with his claws. "Shhh," he whispered, nodding toward the entrance. "Company."

  She looked past his shoulder and sniffed. "Hunters," she mouthed the word and put a claw over her mouth to indicate they should be quiet. "I can't believe I slept through that."

  Mack’s heart was pounding. He was the very definition of a coward. He avoided confrontation like the plague. He was tall and very lanky, with skinny arms that were useless in a fight. He
was awkward looking, well, at least, he was as a human. He really had no idea how he looked now. All he knew was that he had had the boots of bullies up his rear end since he could remember.

  He thought back to Kindergarten, then paused. He couldn't remember before that. He tried to remember his first memory. It was the social worker bringing him to Fran and Ed. But he had been five. He should remember that, and long before that. Why did she bring him to foster parents? He had asked them about his real parents, but they didn't know. Fran had been told that his stay was temporary because his parents were lost. Fran and Ed eventually tried to have his parents declared dead when they tried to adopt him, but no record of them could be found to declare them dead. It was just another incident to mark how forgettable he was.

  The talking outside snapped him back to his senses. He stifled a sigh. Indeed, he was useless in a fight. Hopefully, they would just walk on down the path with no further incident.

  A hushed voice came from just outside the cave entrance: "Archers, stay ready, we're going to check the area. There might be two, so watch yourselves. We don't know what the other dragon is. Probably another Elemental if its hanging around her, since they don't mix company with the Common Dragons."

  Another voice said, "Probably an Earth or Air Dragon with those cut marks on the ground. They are the only ones that cut like that. The others just scratch at it."

  Footsteps came closer. "I haven't seen a live dragon in ten years, Father," a smaller voice declared. Mack figured it probably belonged to a child, or perhaps a girl.

  "Pray, you never do. They certainly won't take kindly to what our kind has done to them, despite our individual family history. These are the last of them. Hopefully, we will not find them. I wish they would move on from the forest so the men would stop hunting them."

  "Do you think the dragons will take riders?" the small voice asked. Mack decided it sounded like it belonged to an older girl, and not a younger son hunting with his father.

  "I think they are crazed with grief. And if we do see them, we'll be lucky if they bite our heads off first, as opposed to our bottom half. Just don't go looking too hard for them."

  "How big are they? I can't remember. I was so small that the last one I saw seemed gigantic, but I was only about five or so."

  "The Fire-breathing one isn't fully grown yet, so she should not be much bigger than our old farm horse," the older voice explained. "The other has footprints about the same size as the Fire Dragon, except the claws cut the rock back there, so I am guessing with, Aleckson, that those marks back there are diamond claws and belong to either an Earth or Air Dragon. Water Dragons aren't known for sharpening their claws like that. They prefer the polar ice for sharpening. Fire Dragons shed their claws more frequently, so they only rarely sharpen their claws, usually on pumice stone, but charred trees will do. If it's an Earth Dragon we won't see it in these woods until we see the inside of its belly. If it is an Air Dragon, just lay flat and hope for the best. Maybe you'll get lucky, and the dragon will just fly away."

  "How big will they get?"

  "A little bit bigger than Nannette the war elephant, if she had wings, but they are thinner, more muscular. They can also run a lot faster.”

  "Look a cave."

  "Misty, wait for me. Don't go running off." There was fear in his voice. "You aren’t much more than a morsel to a dragon”.

  Misty was already standing in front of Mack and Méi. She screamed and ran out, just as startled as the dragons were.

  "Don't just sit there. Get her," Méi said, annoyed. "You have the worst sense of survival ever."

  Mack scampered after the girl, with Méi hot on his heels, her claws sparking on the slate as she moved to catch up. He caught up with Misty easily, but her father was close, and running at him with a sword. There was a look of fear and sorrow on his face, as if he didn't want to do what he was about to do. Mack reared up on two legs, spread his wings, and tried to blow fire, but fire didn't come. It was more like a hurricane without the rain. All of the men in the party were blown, literally, away, along with the arrows the archers had fired at them. Close by, trees were uprooted like a tornado had hit them.

  "That's right! I have an Air Dragon," Méi yelled, jumping up and down. "I am so happy I didn't have to burn half the forest down to get away. Although, it is half blown down. Still the damage is much less than it would have been if I had reared on them. As a bonus, it is the sort of damage that will slow the humans to a crawl. Let's get out of here! Come on, it's dangerous to fly, but, in this case, I think we should risk it," she said, jumping up and taking off.

  He nodded and flew off behind her. Something caught on his neck. He shook his head to get rid of it, but it wouldn't come off. It was stuck tight around his neck, and a strange pressure was on his horns. Perhaps that was normal? He had never flown before. He spread out his wings farther with each flap. It felt good, like stretching in the morning after a sound sleep overnight. Despite what just happened, he felt free, remembering how good it felt to fly.

  He looked around in the darkness. The moon was shining brightly enough to see he was nowhere near the forests of Northern California. The landscape seemed untainted, like no one had even explored here. It looked like it belonged to another era; a prehistoric one with high, tree-covered towering mountains that probably took months to cross on foot.

  He glanced over at a second smaller moon. "Two moons." One loomed larger in the sky than the other. "I am not even on Earth." He thought about String Theory and then gave up. He had not studied it beyond knowing it was the theory that different realities existed. Why hadn't he studied more useful subjects? History of the earth and its religions was probably about as useless as it could get in this place.

  "Méi, what is the name of this place?" he asked, flying closer to her. "Is your neck supposed to be tight when flying?"

  "The Forest of Dragons Lance. Most call it the Forest of Far-Far Away because the mountain range is very difficult to cross. It's a five-month walk around them. I have heard rumors they are the highest peaks in the world. I just know that long ago, the only real option for humans crossing the range was to hope the Mountain Dragons would fly them over." She nodded toward the mountains below but didn't look at him. "You're just stressed, relax Mack. It will be fine."

  "What is this planet called?"

  "What? The land is the Northern Secular Block," she said, "You ask a lot of strange questions. I am surprised that I have not tried to go south before now. I have not left the forest beyond this point, since my fifth birthday. I know it like the scales on my paw. Still, I am excited to be leaving these people. I haven't felt this safe since I was a pup in my mother's pouch.”

  His memory flashed again. His father had coaxed him out of his mother’s pouch with ferret meat.

  She continued. “Momma used to tuck me into my bed of coals at night and tell me stories about the Lilac Princess who brought a hundred-year peace to the entire realm. Everyone was so excited when she was born, because Lilacs bring spring, meaning she was the harbinger of spring for peacetime."

  "I don't remember being a dragon at all; no stories, not my parents, my playmates, whether or not I had brothers and sisters. It's like this place never existed." He was feeling like the ultimate identity theft victim. "Where are we headed?"

  "Blue Valley, I can hardly wait to see it. I have heard rumors it is a dragon friendly place. The huntsmen have complained about the people of Blue Valley in the past. They spoke of it with disdain, which should have been a good enough reason to go there. I was just too little to go that far flying on my own. When I went with my parents I flew in my mother's basket saddle, and couldn't see much. And, if I remember correctly, you had much older brothers and sisters. You were the last baby to older parents, and if I also remember correctly – babied to the point that your teenaged siblings found it annoying."

  “Okay.” He gave up trying to understand what was happening. They flew some distance before landing on the other side of the
mountains, on the last high cliffs before the land sloped down into low valleys. He wasn't sure how far. It seemed like a thirty-minute flight. He felt calmer now. His neck was still bothering him, so he sat down, and figured he would try to scratch his neck like a dog.

  "I have another cave here. This is as far away as I have been on my own. It's all new after here." Her eyes widened as she looked back at Mack. "Human!" she pointed at him. "I mean," she snarled a low, dangerous sounding growl, "Hunter."

  The Great Dragon Lady

  Dunia was starving. She stretched out of her pea gravel bed and wandered into the main room.

  "Good morning," Blue greeted her with breakfast tea and a rabbit.

  She sipped the tea, and nibbled on the rabbit. It was all coming back to her.

  "Are you remembering more?"

  She nodded. "On the night of the final battle for Blue Valley, my parents and their riders had been slain by my father's rider's wife. One person brought down the Noble House of the Earth Minister. I only escaped because I had stayed the night with a little girl that my parents had chosen for me to train with as a future rider. The idea was to see how the two of us played together and for me to get used to her scent. I remember not liking the girl. Something about her smelled funny. She had been kind enough, but much too timid to be a dragon rider. Her fear stunk so bad I could hardly sleep that night." Tears stung her eyes as she glanced down at her tea. "I never got the chance to tell my parents, because the next thing I knew, the girl's father had run off with me in a wagon. He warned me not to move, carrying on about an invasion, and that he needed to get me to safety. With a family like that do you think the little girl would have grown up to be a good rider? I may have misjudged her."

  "Who knows? Everyone's experience is very different. They say that experience is the most thorough teacher, you know. It really depends on the experiences that the little girl later chose for herself, and what path of education she took. She may not even want to be a dragon rider at this point in her life. She would already be settled as a young adult, with her own family."