The Dragon Dimension

by D K Drake

  “Now to finish our little geography lesson.” Ravier shifted his hand to the land south west of Zandador decorated with colorful trees and flowers. “This is Keckrick, a lush rain forest. Wonderful plants grow there that we use in many of our foods and medicines. A giant canyon divides Keckrick from Varzack, a mountainous and rocky region to the southeast of us.”

  Javan noticed that the canyon looked like a sideways Y and also separated Keckrick and Varzack from a blank, white land on the southernmost part of the Great Rift. “What’s this place?” Javan asked, pointing to the white land.

  Ravier flinched, clenched his fingers into fists and said, “That is the Land of No Return.”

  “The Land of No Return?” Why did that place sound familiar? Because his mother had mentioned it. “That’s where the king banished my dad to?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you think it’s possible he’s still alive?”

  Ravier stared at the map. “No one who’s ever been sent there has ever come back.”

  “That’s not what I asked. I asked if you think he’s still alive.”

  Ravier shook his head. “No.” He clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “Back to the chalkboard. You have more history to learn.”

  Javan, angry with his grandfather for giving him no hope and dropping the subject of his father so carelessly, returned to his seat.

  He would sit and listen to Ravier lecture.

  But when the lectures were done and he had a dragon to ride, Javan planned a trip to the Land of No Return.

  He would find out for himself if his father was alive or dead.

  Chapter 16

  A History Lesson

  Ravier resumed his place behind the podium and rubbed his eyes. “Where were we?” he asked.

  “Zandador and Japheth parted ways.”

  “Right.” Ravier erased his earth map from the chalkboard and continued his lecture. “Zandador took charge of the Great Rift and dispersed the animals to the region best suited to their well-being. Stalkers were given the task of patrol to ensure no predators ever made their way back through the portal.

  “A hundred and five years passed. Man multiplied on the earth. Animals multiplied in the Great Rift. All the animals except the dragons.”

  “Why not dragons?”

  “For some reason which no one understands to this day, dragon eggs wouldn’t hatch. So it was left to eight dragons to fight against hostile and growing populations of dinosaurs, flying lions, six-legged bears and giant spiders, just to name a few. Two dragons were killed; the other six were in dire need of help.

  “Zandador opened the portal. Because he couldn’t chance leaving the dimension and flying to find Japheth, he tried to telepathically connect with his rider. But Japheth was no longer alive, and the only one who could hear Zandador was the middle of Japheth’s seven sons, Javan.”

  “Whoa. What was his name?”

  “Javan, your namesake. He was the first human leader of the Great Rift.”

  “So my parents didn’t give me some weird, random name. Cool.”

  “No, they didn’t.” Ravier took a deep breath. “Moving on. Javan ignored Zandador’s telepathic plea, certain he was imagining the voice he was hearing even though his father had passed along the scales and tales of Zandador and the Great Rift to him.

  “A year passed. The cries for help grew longer and louder. Then a turning point in human history occurred. Man—who at this point still all spoke one language—was not dispersing and filling the earth as God commanded, so God intervened by introducing new languages and creating confusion.”

  “Now you’re talking about Babel.” Javan was familiar with this Bible story, too. “That’s where people started speaking different languages and couldn’t understand each other.”

  “Exactly. Javan and a small number of others, including his daughters and nephews and their families, spoke English. As a group, they decided to band together, follow Javan to the Great Rift and answer the dragon’s cry for help.

  “Each of the nephews were sons of Javan’s brothers, so each of Japheth’s seven sons were represented. They built a boat, and the fortynine people sailed across the Atlantic. They landed in Miami, activated the portal and walked through the wormhole. Zandador was waiting for them and explained the situation to Javan. Four dragons remained, and the dinosaurs were on the verge of wiping them out.

  “Once Javan understood the need for more dragons to hatch in order to fend off the encroaching predators, he ordered the people to find dragon eggs so they could take them back to earth to hatch.

  “But the only one who had any luck finding eggs was Greshon, son of Tiras, Japheth’s youngest son. He and his family became known as the Protectors and oversaw the transport of the eggs to earth; after the dragons hatched, they transported them back to the Land of Zandador.

  “With the new influx of dragons, Javan chose four stalkers to ride and became the leader of his own collection. He and other Collectors worked with the dragons to fight the dinosaurs and won back control of the land.”

  “Where did the dinosaurs go?”

  “They migrated north to Tirza, turned on each other and wiped themselves out.”

  “Bummer.”

  “Bummer? What does that mean?”

  “It means I was hoping to see some dinosaurs. They’re extinct on earth, too. Oh, well.” Javan shrugged. “So what happened after the dragons beat the dinosaurs?”

  “For the first 599 years, Javan led the people. He started by dividing the Land of Zandador into eleven regions: four stalker territories and seven human territories. To honor his brothers and father, Javan named six of the regions after his brothers and the seventh—the capital city—after his father.

  “The dragons taught the humans how to use the resources of the land—including their own scales—to build houses and power them. In exchange, the humans worked with the dragons to transport one egg to earth a year to hatch and back to Zandador to live. They also helped protect the dragons from predators during shedding seasons.”

  “Shedding seasons? What’s that?”

  “Once a year for the first ten years of its life, a dragon sheds its scales. Then the shedding time is reduced to once every ten years. It takes about three weeks for a dragon to grow a new set of scales, which also double as a defensive shield. Without its scales, dragons are helpless against attack.”

  “Did not know that.” Javan decided that was a good thing to write in his notebook.

  “As I already mentioned, those who took the eggs to earth became known as Protectors. They would also bring back earthly news to Zandador when they returned home.”

  “So that’s how you know so much about earth.”

  “Yes. Our worlds are similar, especially in the way we measure time. That’s why we mimicked the calendar system earth developed. We use the same days, weeks and months as earth; the major difference, however, is the year. Our historical timeline began when the first fortynine entered the Great Rift.”

  “Got it. That means this is August like it is on earth. But what year does that make it here?”

  “It’s 4200, a Battle for the Throne year. No one has entered the competition, though.”

  “Not yet.”

  “Right. Not yet. And you can’t until you have a better understanding of our history.” Ravier turned back to the chalkboard and began writing as he talked. “In the beginning, the people in Zandador lived by a simple code of conduct that included five things to do and five things not to do.

  “The positives: honor God; love and respect each other; live with integrity; work for what you own and eat; help those in need. The negatives: do not steal; do not murder; do not commit adultery; do not build in the dragon territories; do not hunt in the dragon territories.”

  “Good rules. But from what I understand about the guy who is king now, he doesn’t follow those rules.”

  “No, he doesn’t. You see, when Javan suddenly died in the year 599 from a spider
bite, the people disagreed about who should take his place as leader and how humans should interact with the dragons.”

  “What do you mean, how humans should interact with dragons?”

  “Four factions developed: Collectors, Protectors, Hunters and Destroyers. Each descended from one of Japheth’s seven sons.”

  “Seven sons? Four factions? That math seems a little off.”

  “Not if you know that the descendants of three of the sons—Magog, Tubal and Meschech—wanted nothing to do with the conflict. Magog’s sons were adventure seekers, built ships and sailed off into the ocean. To this day, no one knows what became of them.

  “Tubal’s sons developed a genetic tendency toward dwarfism. They were tired of being overlooked because of their height and moved north to set up their own secluded community in the Thickets of Gibbet.”

  “Dwarves? Oh, like that dude we met who now has my watch.”

  “Exactly. Not many dwarves live in Zandador, but some like to make their home in this land.”

  “What about the third group?”

  “They were descendants of Meschech and were the intellectuals of the bunch. They had a peculiar genetic feature as well.”

  “Let me guess. Giants?”

  “No. Albinos.”

  “Not as cool as giants, but okay.”

  “They moved to the region of Xyies and made their homes in the underground caves.”

  “I don’t think I’ll be visiting them.”

  “No one does. Anyway, the Collectors you’re familiar with. They were direct descendants of Javan and tend to have tan skin and dark or red hair like us. They’re also the only ones with the ability to communicate telepathically with the dragons. They believed man should work with the dragons and that the dragons were able to thrive when given a purpose: to serve and protect man. Riding dragons and thus gaining their loyalty gave the dragons that purpose without the dragons having to lose their free will.”

  “Their free will?”

  “If a Collector asks one of his dragons to do something the dragon does not agree with, the dragon has the right and ability to refuse.”

  “Oh. Okay.” Javan nodded. “What about the Protectors? What did they believe?”

  “The Protectors, brown-skinned peoples with black hair, were direct descendants of Japheth’s youngest son, Tiras. They thought dragons should be free and have no one to look after except themselves. They believed man should protect the dragons—especially when they were most vulnerable during shedding seasons—not the other way around.”

  “These were the people who worked the portal, right?”

  “Yes. They were the only ones with the ability to activate the portal and became responsible for transporting dragon eggs to earth, then bringing the hatched dragon back to Zandador.”

  “All right. Collectors can talk to the dragons, and Protectors can work the portal. What’s unique about the Hunters?”

  “The Hunters, dark-skinned peoples, had an insatiable thirst for power and control. They were direct descendants of Japheth’s oldest son Gomer and discovered that a dragon would become subservient to anyone who cut off the tip of its tail. They believed dragons were to be used, not be useful. Their goal was to enslave all dragons, and use those dragons as a tool to gain power over man.”

  “Is there any way to free a dragon if its tail has been chopped off?”

  “Only if its master dies. But with no one to take orders from, the dragon usually dies soon after its master.”

  “That’s sad.”

  “The Destroyers, who grew to be unusually tall, were worse. They were the direct descendants of Japheth’s third son, Madai. They hated dragons, wanted nothing to do with dragon scales and wanted to wipe out all dragons by beheading them.”

  “Why?”

  “They built one of their first villages on Dawn Stalker territory, something Javan strictly forbade. The Dawn Stalkers showed their disapproval of the encroachment by attacking the village and killing the inhabitants.”

  “Guess those people should have listened to Javan.”

  “They should have.” Ravier put the chalk down, wiped his hands and leaned on the podium. “Since these four factions, or Bloodlines, couldn’t agree how to govern, they chose to fight it out. Whoever collected, protected, hunted or destroyed four dragons first would assume the throne for 100 years. Then, in the last year of the king’s reign, another dragon battle would ensue to determine who would rule for the next 100 years.”

  “What if no one won?”

  “Then the current king would keep the throne for the next century.”

  “So that’s how the guy who is king now has kept the throne for 500 years.”

  “Right. After his first century, a handful of participants from the varying bloodlines entered the competition. He had them and their families all killed and threatened anyone with death who dared challenge him again.”

  “And this is the guy you want me going up against? He’s going to kill me the instant he learns about me!”

  Ravier looked Javan in the eye. “I won’t let that happen.”

  Javan gulped. For the first time, he felt like his grandfather just might care about him.

  “Now,” Ravier cleared his throat and continued, “when Addin, a Collector, won the first battle, the Collectors remained in Zandador.”

  “Where did the losers go?”

  “The Destroyers moved north to Tirza. The Hunters moved southeast to Varzack, and the Protectors moved southwest to Keckrick.”

  “But my mom’s a Protector, and she said she grew up in a city in Zandador.”

  “Some people from all the bloodlines remained in the land and stayed in the cities they had already established. Most of them, however, were bitter and wanted to leave the land. Still, they would send representatives back to Zandador every 100 years for the Battle of the Throne.”

  “And if someone other than a Collector won, did the Collectors have to leave the land?”

  “No. A wave of people from the winning bloodline would take over the capital and surrounding cities, but for the most part, homelands became pretty entrenched.”

  “Why didn’t they just set up their own countries with their own kings?”

  “The Hunters tried that. They kept to themselves at first but soon realized they needed the food resources Zandador provided. Farmland is scarce in Varzack, so they had to maintain ties with Zandador and submit to the rule of the king.”

  “Were most of the kings Collectors?”

  “For the first three hundred years of the competition, yes. Then a Protector won the throne in 900 and ruled from 901-1000.”

  “Hold on. How can a Protector win?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “A Collector has to ride the four dragons, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Hunters chop off their tales, and Destroyers chop off their heads.”

  “Correct.”

  “So what do Protectors do?”

  “A Protector ‘brands’ a dragon as protected by plucking the scale between its eyes.”

  “Say what?” Javan tried to imagine ripping a scale from Opny’s face and shuddered at the idea. “How do they manage to do that without being eaten or drowned in acid like I almost was yesterday?”

  “They don’t deal with full-grown dragons. Remember, the Protectors are the ones who take the eggs to earth, have them hatch, then return the baby dragon to Zandador. It takes about a month for a dragon to fully develop its scales. If the Protector is able to bond with the dragon and pluck its scale as soon as it develops, that dragon becomes the Protector’s responsibility. It can still be hunted, collected or destroyed, so it’s the Protector’s job to, well, protect it and allow it to remain free in its own habitat.”

  “Got it.”

  “The first Protector king, however, was not a very wise man.” Ravier pulled up a chair and sat down in front of Javan. “Up until this point, the portal was activated once a year. Only one protector w
ith one dragon egg was allowed to go through, so the dragon population only grew at one per year, except in a battle year.”

  “What happened in a battle year?”

  “Eight eggs, a male and female of each stalker, were allowed to hatch. But this king, Yinsur, ordered one egg a week through the portal to hatch.”

  “That’s a lot of dragons to hatch over the span of a hundred years.”

  “Exactly. There were too many dragons and not enough Collectors to ride them, Hunters to enslave them or Destroyers to kill them. So when the competition for food within the stalker territories became too fierce, the dragons broke the borders and started making meals of humans. The people were getting annihilated and looked to the Destroyers for help.

  “That’s when a Destroyer, Coredum, rose to power next. He didn’t stop with beheading his four dragons. He killed hundreds on his own and built the first Destroyer army. His entire reign was dedicated to eradicating the dragons, and he blocked access to the portal to ensure no new dragons would hatch.

  “Meanwhile, the Hunters were determined to prove that their way—enslaving the dragons—was the right way to deal with the dragon population. They trained a band of Hunters during Coredum’s rule, and one of them, Ompar, finally won the throne in 1100.

  “Ompar used his dragons to hunt the other collectors, hunters, protectors and destroyers. Nevertheless, Geoff, a Collector, won the throne in 1200. He ruled for 200 years, restoring order and prosperity to the land following the devastating rules of the previous three kings. Then a Hunter followed by three Protectors each ruled for 100 years.

  “The Protectors re-opened the portal but permitted no more than four dragons a year—one of each stalker type—to hatch. The dragon population was growing again, but not at the alarming rate it was under the first Protector king.”

  “The Destroyers probably didn’t like that much.”

  “No, they didn’t. They came close to gaining control of the throne next, but a Collector, Benjamin, beat them to it. He ruled from 1801-1900. Then the millennium of Destroyer domination began.”