by Anna Rose
“Not afraid of heights? You surprise me, girl,” the rider said. “You seem to be very fond of dragons. I’d think you’d be more afraid than excited.”
“Aya, not ‘girl,'” she told him, offended by his assumption. “My name is Aya. I am not afraid of heights. This is just different for me.”
“Aya. Hmm. Well,” he replied. “As you have given me the gift of your name, I give you the gift of mine and my dragon’s. My dragon is Clarion, and I am Drannar. However, you may call me Dran. Everyone else does.”
“Your servant, Dragonguard.”
“My servant? Never, girl. The Dragonguard treat everyone equally, man and woman alike!”
Aya was confused and said so.
“I know that here in Danayalo, males rule the roost and females are second-class citizens at best, but among the Dragonguard, across the world, such absurd notions are ignored,” Drannar explained.
“Things are different elsewhere?”
“Indeed, Danayalo is the only country I know of where such a social structure exists. You are the first female I have ever seen out walking on her own in Danayalo.”
“I’m on my own, Drannar,” she told him.
“Dran, girl, Dran,” the Dragonguard insisted, and then changed the subject. “So you’re not afraid of heights. Why is that? Most groundlings I have met are scared of anything higher than a rooftop, in my experience.” There was a tone when he said groundlings that did not sound at all favorable.
“I’ve been climbing the very tall trees in the forest near our farm since I was a little girl. I loved looking down at everything below me when I did,” she told Dran. “It’s one of the few things I miss from where I used to live.”
“What about your family?”
There it was: the question Aya had dreaded for so many months now. She supposed it would have come up, eventually, whoever she might have met. What would the Dragonguard do now? Would he take her back to the nightmare of her childhood?
“My mother is dead at the hand of my father, and my brother is little better than my father. I have nothing left there,” she replied flatly. “I never want to go back. I’ll be a midden-sweeper before I am Andagebi’s daughter again.”
Aya went silent and began to stroke the warm, smooth neck upon which she sat, willing herself not to cry at the sharp memory of her mother’s terrible passing. She had supposed a dragon would be scaly, as other reptiles were, but Clarion’s hide looked as though it was covered in tiny smooth pebbles.
“A pleasure to meet you, Clarion,” she breathed. The dragon murmured a response. The Dragonguard who sat at her back chuckled.
“Of course, do that for the dragon, but not to me!”
Aya thought she had made some misstep, but then looked at the rider’s face and saw that he was grinning down at her.
“No offense taken, Aya. I know that Clarion appreciates your recognition and manners.” Once again, the dragon snorted. “Too often, people run away and hide when they see us coming.”
“I’ve never run away when I’ve seen the Dragonguard in the sky,” Aya proclaimed stoutly. “It has always made me feel safe to see them – you – up there, watching over us all. I always wanted the chance to meet a dragon, and now it has happened.”
“Then you are the rare exception, gir – Aya,” he replied. She noticed his abrupt substitution but affected not to have noticed.
“I’ve never ridden a dragon before,” she said. “I never realized what it would be like!”
“Clarion and I have been together for the past thirty-two years, Aya. I think I have forgotten what it is like to walk long distances anymore. I have a difficult enough time making it from my bed to my front door!”
The dragon made a sound something like laughter, and Aya wondered why the dragon reacted that way. Perhaps it was some private joke between them both. She felt she should not have been surprised that dragons had a sense of humor. Surely, something so magnificent could not be merely a dumb beast, like a giant, flying cow
“Thirty-two years? How long does a dragon live,” she gasped, and then wished she had not said such a thoughtless thing. How would she step back from that?
“A dragon and his rider live as long as the other does,” Drannar told her.
“How old are you,” she ventured carefully.
“Fifty-three,” he replied with an amused smile.
“You don’t look anywhere near that age!”
“A benefit of my relationship with Clarion, perhaps,” he replied mysteriously and left it at that.
They had flown over a few villages before Aya realized that they were landing at none of them, and became concerned and finally said something about it.
“I’m taking you back to where I live,” he told her, and Aya had to stop herself from wiggling free of him, knowing it would end very badly for her if she were successful.
“I don’t want to go with you! I’ve already escaped a bad marriage!” she blurted. “I’m too young to be a wife!”
“Marriage? Whyever would you think that I wanted to bed you, much less marry you, girl?” he demanded. “I told you that women don’t have to do what they are told in most of the world.”
“Then why would you take me there?”
“Has it occurred to you that it might not be a good idea for a Dragonguard to visit a village?”
“Why could it be a bad idea? The Dragonguard watch over all of us!”
“There are very good reasons why it’s not a good idea,” he told her obliquely, chewing on a thick piece of dried meat that he had pulled from a pouch at his waist. He offered a piece to Aya, which she took gratefully. It had been a very long time since she had last eaten anything but a few early berries. “Beyond the unreasoning fear, there can be other problems.”
“What problems,” she pressed him when she had chewed up and swallowed her first bite. Drannar seemed to ignore her question. “Do dragons eat people?”
“We should arrive in a bit,” he told her, not responding to her question. “Try to get some sleep until we do. I’ll make sure you don’t fall off.”
From that point, they flew in silence, except for the occasional curious bird who would fly alongside them, chirping or crying out a challenge to the dragon, who ignored them all. It was clear that the beast held himself far above such minuscule denizens of the sky. He was a lord of all he surveyed and knew it.
Her jealousy rose again, and she fought to dampen it. She truly had no wish to offend, especially when she was far above the ground, with nothing between her and it but the dragon she rode. She felt a tremor go through the dragon’s body and wondered how much of her thoughts or emotions it could sense.
10
The Dragonfort was on the side of a dormant volcano, its sides riddled with caves large and small. Clarion landed in a plaza of sorts, and his rider helped her down before dismounting as well. While humans seemed to be everywhere, she saw surprisingly few dragons in the area and wondered where they were.
What stunned Aya was the fact that she saw both men and women riding and walking with dragons, despite everything her father had told her. If he had been wrong about that, what else might he have been wrong about? Had he lied to her, or merely assumed how things were concerning the Dragonguard.
“Women can be Dragonguard, too?” she asked Dran breathlessly. “My father told me that only men could be Dragonguard.”
“Well, then, he was wrong, wasn’t he? Anyway, girl, if you are hungry, you can find the kitchens over there,” he told her, pointing at a doorway festooned with bright bunting, before wandering off in another direction. “Just about anything you might like to eat will probably be available. Our cooks are quite gifted.”
Aya ran up behind him.
“What am I supposed to do? I can’t stay here!” she demanded of him.
“Let’s wait until tomorrow morning, and we’ll speak then,” was his reply. “For now, eat. I am certain I heard your empty belly complain more than once, as we flew. Do as it d
emands and fill it!”
Realizing that Drannar was right, Aya went to the kitchen, as she had been bid, and saw foods there that she had only heard of, but never actually seen, much less eaten. Her stomach growled at her hungrily, as she breathed in the rich scent of the food around her. A sizeable roast turned on a spit up against the wall, and the scent of it near drove her mad. She was about to ask someone what she should do when a dark-haired young man approached her, a broad, welcoming smile on his face.
“What can I eat, please?” she asked him. “I don’t want to take the wrong thing.”
“If you would like something to eat, please help yourself to anything here,” he told her. “Eat until you are satisfied.”
“Anything? That can’t be right,” she objected. Aya had long ago learned that some treats were much too fine for a poor girl like her.
“Yes, anything. If it is out in the open, it’s fair game for you.”
Easily a dozen long tables had been set up in the cavern, with perhaps thirty or more people of both sexes sitting down at them. There did not appear to be any differentiation of social station, either. Well-dressed men and women sat and chatted elbow to elbow with men and women wearing what appeared to be threadbare clothing, and each seemed easy and happy in the others’ company. Some rose to get their food and drink, while those who appeared to be kitchen staff served others, but as with the mix of status, there appeared to be the same kind of social blindness where serving was concerned. She stared as a man in a finely embroidered tunic brought a platter of sweets to a homely young woman who wore little more than rags.
Following directions she, Aya helped herself to a platter of well-marbled, bloody-rare beef, piled some green vegetables and several firm, bright red tomatoes alongside it, and went to sit in an available seat. A young woman came to her table and left a pitcher of something sweet smelling for her, along with an earthenware mug. Pouring some for herself and taking an experimental sip, she found it delicious, and happily drank it along with the beef and vegetables.
Aya had not realized how hungry she was before she had seen the bounty available in the kitchen cavern. Of course, having been on a very restricted diet for so long likely made her hunger greater than it might have been, as well.
She surprised herself by getting another large helping of beef and vegetables and finally finished it all off with a piece of hot fruit pie, topped with a thick slab of tasty yellow cheese. By the time she took the last bite, she was exhausted and almost fell asleep in her chair, belly distended with more food than she had had in one sitting over the past several months.
The next thing Aya knew, she was being carried out of the kitchen to some other location, but she was so tired, she was unable to speak to find out what was going on.
Wherever it was that they took her, there was a soft bed, with soft, comfortable blankets piled atop her. It was very quiet, and whoever had carried her there had a whispered conversation with someone else before they left.
As she slept, Aya had wild dreams. Swirls of rainbow color filled her mind. She felt as though she were thrashing around, but could not wake up, as much as she tried.
She felt as though she had eaten too much and that the food she had eaten was swelling in her belly and chest. It seemed to want to get out and get out now!
Real physical agony ripped through her body, coming in overwhelming waves. Aya tried to cry out in her sleep, but it was as though she was unable to open her mouth. Wave upon wave of pain shook her, and nothing she could do in her sleep was able to make it stop.
Eventually, the bloating agony seemed to go away, and truly exhausted in both mind and body, she settled into a deep, dreamless sleep, resting peacefully.
11
When she awoke, she could hear conversation coming from nearby, and she opened her eyes to see a small group of people standing in the doorway. She became aware of an odd sound nearby and looked up to see a blue dragon’s massive head just above her own. It stared down at her with enormous, warm brown eyes that contained flashes of copper and gold. Knowing she should not be afraid of it, she reached up a hand and touched the tip of its jaw.
She gasped as she felt the whisper of the same touch on her jaw.
“What’s going on?” she managed. “This doesn’t make any sense!”
On the periphery of her vision, she saw someone step forward. When she turned her head to see better, Dran came into focus.
“This dragon is part of you, Aya. She was always in there, waiting to come out,” he explained gently. “You told me that you always felt a special connection with dragons. This is the reason why you felt that way.”
“That doesn’t make any sense. How could I have a giant dragon inside of me?”
“Not everyone has it, Aya,” Dran replied. “Clarion saw her within you the moment he and you touched one another. Once that contact was made, and he discovered her, we had to bring you here. Nothing would have stopped her emergence at that point. You would have been in mortal danger if someone had discovered you while you Dreamed. You would have been vulnerable to capture, and that must never happen.”
Aya heard a special stress on the word ‘dreamed.'
“Dreamed?”
“That is how we describe a new dragon’s emergence. I can think of no other way to express it,” Dran finished, throwing up his hands. “I imagine that your dreams were odd as it all happened. Flashes of color, odd sounds, and sensations?”
Aya nodded, at a loss for words. It was all too much to comprehend.
“That is the Dreaming that happens as your dragon emerges. You have been unconscious for the better part of a week as she did. It does not happen quickly.”
“But things must be born,” she protested weakly. “I don’t understand this at all!”
“Give yourself and your dragon time,” Dran advised. “While you do, think of what your dragon’s name might be. Your connection will grow even stronger, once she has a name.”
“How am I supposed to know what her name it,” Aya demanded.
“It will come to you. Don’t worry about that. You just need to open your mind to knowing it,” Dran assured her, then he left the room, shooing out the others before him. “Now, eat. You need the energy.”
Only then did Aya become aware of the platter stacked with thick slices of bloody rare meat that sat on her bedside table, alongside a tall mug of something that steamed invitingly. Without thinking, she began shoving slices of the rich meat into her mouth, chewing perfunctorily before washing them down with what proved to be hot tea.
“And get some sleep. Real sleep!” She heard Drannar laugh. “You can finish your food later on if you are too tired to finish it now.”
Soon, Aya was left alone with the great dragon, who looked down at her and then reached out a gigantic paw. Putting out her hand, she placed it in the center of the dragon’s palm. The combined touch was disconcerting but felt “right” to her.
“So you’re a part of me, are you?”
The dragon, of course, did not say anything, but instead made a noise that sounded sort of like agreement to Aya. She felt the dragon’s assent in her head, much like when she had a conversation with herself in her head, but it was not actual words.
“How could you have been inside of me,” she asked, and then chuckled to herself in dismay. “I shouldn’t be asking you questions you can’t answer, should I?”
The dragon shifted and laid down on her belly, stretching and curving her neck around so she could rest the tip of her nose on Aya’s chest while continuing to stare into her eyes. Aya was surprised to find that the dragon’s head had no weight at all for her, although it did have substance enough to touch it with her hand, and she was unable to move beneath it.
“So you want me to sleep as well, do you?”
The dragon blinked at her, the first time she had done so since they “met.” Aya took that for assent. A wave of exhaustion overtook her, and she realized that the dragon had been acting to keep her awake,
but was now letting that tiredness back in. Her eyelids became heavy, and then closed, and Aya slept.
Some time later, Aya had no idea how long that might have been, she awoke. The dragon’s head rested at her side, and she saw that the creature’s eyes were open and looking at her. She realized she was once again ravenous and realized the dragon might be feeling the same way.
“Are you hungry?”
A feeling of negation came to her. That seemed odd.
“How could you not be hungry? I ate, but you didn’t.” Aya reached for the half-empty platter on her side table and tried giving it to the dragon, who turned her head away.
“That’s because she’s part of you, and you eat for the both of you,” Dran said as he walked into the room, not bothering to knock to announce himself. The dragon turned her head toward the approaching Dragonguard and gave him an unfriendly look.
“Oh, bother that, youngling,” he scolded the creature as he approached Aya’s pallet. “I’m old enough to be her grandfather! I’m not going to hurt her.”
The dragon grumbled at him, clearly unhappy with the affable Dragonguard, but did not offer to hurt him.
“You need to get to the kitchens and eat something fresh, young Aya,” he told the girl. “Don’t let yourself go too long without eating.”
“Why is that?” she asked, putting the piece of cold meat back on the platter with its fellows, but Dran seemed to ignore her question.
“Up, up, up with you!” he prodded at her, and, suiting actions to words, pulled the blankets off her and made as though to pick her up.
The dragon roared with rage at his temerity, and appearing to recollect himself, Dran stepped back from the bed, hands raised in a gesture of peace and self-protection.
“I’m only trying to get her out into the sun, dragon,” he protested. “I told you I would never hurt her, as though you would ever allow that to happen, anyway!”
Not wanting to see anyone become hurt, Aya rose from her bed and wrapped the shawl she had found folded on the table next to her around her shoulders. The dragon kept a protective eye on Aya, still glaring at Dran for the liberties he had taken with her human half.