A Selfless Sacrifice

by Paul Cude

  Forty eight hours into their flight, the three, not so much friends, more like... polite acquaintances, dropped out of the sky on a small tree lined isle in the midst of a quiet and tranquil turquoise sea.

  The very first thing For’son did on landing was wade waist high into the sea, splashing the warm foamy water all over his weary body, enjoying every second of it, almost visibly washing away the aches and pains. Watching from the shore, amazed that he would do such a thing, at least with anyone else around, it didn’t take long for his two comrades to join him for a soak, even Orac who was tentative to say the least. But once in, they didn’t hold back on the frolicking around. After an hour or so, they all reluctantly left the water, allowing themselves to be dried off by the last of the sun’s rays, For’son ordering the other two to chop down some trees and make a fire, while he found them some food. And boy... did he! Two sweeping circumferences of the isle and he’d found exactly what he was looking for, and in two separate journeys back to where they’d made their camp, much to Keesha and the librarian’s surprise, he arrived with two fully grown cows and three mature sheep, all of which had been put out of their misery in the most considerate and humane way (that’s an odd choice of words given that humans at this time could only be regarded as cavemen), if such a thing were at all possible.

  And so they ate, and talked very little, which suited all of them for different reasons. Orac because he was so shy, For’son because of his professionalism, fully focused now on what needed to be done once they arrived at their destination, and Keesha because she was in the presence of relative strangers and didn’t really know what to make of the other two. After that they slept for a couple of hours, having made good time so far, with the jet stream having been very much on their side. Whether it would remain that way was anyone’s guess.

  Awoken by his supernatural gift, exactly on time, For’son roused his companions, and once refreshed from splashing some seawater on to their faces, they bounded into the cool night air, continuing with their important mission.

  Thirty two hours later, the three comrades in arms, led by Keesha, buffeted by warm, dry air, dropped from the sky on to a peach coloured plateau, wings burning from the brutal journey that they’d just undertaken. Relieved to have arrived, the two males following the young female’s lead.

  “This way,” Keesha announced, tramping off in the direction of a huge cave entrance only a hundred or so metres away.

  For’son and Orac followed on behind, neither saying very much, both utterly exhausted from their long flight.

  On reaching the cave’s entrance, the golden hued dragon turned around, clearly looking for something.

  “What is it?” asked For’son, his sharp mind picking up that something was wrong.

  “My kind should be here in great numbers, and yet there seems to be no one about. As well, I can’t get a sense of any of them telepathically, so they’re not even close by.”

  “That doesn’t bode well,” added the librarian, nervously.

  “Fall in behind me,” ordered the warrior of the three, knowing that they were now very much in danger, which, given their current state was not ideal to say the least.

  “What do we do now?” said Orac.

  “We could make camp inside the cave and wait for them to come back,” suggested Keesha, “there’s bound to be supplies and bedding, and I’m sure the others won’t mind us using it temporarily.”

  “NO!” stated For’son, having already assessed the situation.

  “But...”

  Turning to face the youngster, his magical senses already extended out as far as they would go, on the lookout for anything remotely unusual, he calmed himself and tried to put on a brave front for the other two, despite not really wanting to.

  “We can’t go into the cave, because... if we do, and they come back under the ra-hoon’s spell, we’ll be trapped and then it’ll all be over. I understand your thinking, but we have to stay out in the open, so that we can at least retreat into the air if we have to.”

  “O... o... o... okay,” she replied, her mind spinning at the realisation that her friends and family might have fallen victim to the unicorn doubles’ dastardly dealings.

  “I’m sorry,” resumed the warrior, “But I think we have to assume that they’ve been taken by the ra-hoon in the same way the others have.”

  Nodding her understanding, Keesha bravely fought back the tears, determined not to show exactly how upset she was. It was then that it came to her.

  “There’s a ridge further up the valley, one that provides good cover, easy access to the air, and best of all, looks down on the area where those monsters normally hang out.”

  “Great!” exclaimed the king’s protector. “Show us where to go and we’ll follow. Perhaps skirt around the back of the ridge. We don’t want to go anywhere near the ra-hoon’s position because we don’t know the range of their powers. And now they have more fighters, travelling around will be much more difficult. Stay well away from other dragons, even if you think that you know them. If they’re enchanted or under some sort of spell, they’ll report us immediately and that would be a disaster.”

  “I understand,” replied Keesha. “There’s a little known back route that most don’t use because of the dangerous updrafts. Do you want to try that?”

  “That sounds best. I know you’re both exhausted, and so am I, but we have to find somewhere safe to put down before we can rest. Hopefully this will be our last flight for a while. Good work so far... both of you.” With one brilliant blue shimmering wing, For’son indicated to the stunning looking female that she should take to the air. “Lead the way.”

  Traversing the rear of the ridge which involved flying against what felt like a storm front over a thousand metre drop off, eventually, after both Keesha and For’son had saved Orac from being splattered against the sharp, jagged rocks on at least two occasions each, the three of them touched down on top of a much smoother and more concealed table, edged by mountainous boulders and sharp, uneven rocks, gaps in which looked out across the valley below, giving a view superseded by no other.

  “Follow me,” whispered Keesha. “There’s an overhang up here that will provide cover from the air, but won’t box us in. There are also gaps in the rocks through which we should be able to view what’s going on down below.”

  And so they did, surprised at what they found. It was exactly as she’d said, secluded, with enough space for the three of them, and plenty of little lookouts to view the valley below. Of course it might be tricky during the night. Even the tiniest lick of flames would stand out through the holes, giving away their position to the enemy, something For’son had been thinking about for a while now.

  ‘If they had a couple of dozen dragons before, just how many do they have now?’ he wondered. From what Keesha had already told him, the missing dragon villagers numbered in their dozens, maybe as many as sixty in all. If the vast majority of those had unwittingly allied themselves with the ra-hoon, then he’d probably bitten off more than he could chew, an unusual occurrence for any dragon, least of all him.

  Sitting in a line, plumping to perch on the cool, sand covered, peach coloured rock, carefully they pressed their huge prehistoric heads up against the gaps in the stone that they’d each selected and, adjusting their vision to what could be regarded as ‘telescopic’, they all scanned the valley below for any sign of their enemy the ra-hoon and the missing villagers. It didn’t take long to find what they were seeking.

  Having already agreed to use their telepathic powers to communicate, not knowing how far their voices would travel across the range they found themselves hidden in, it was the golden, yellow and orange female that broke the silence of their psyches first.

  “I can see all the villagers out beyond the bluff at the far end of the valley. They’re grouped with those that had already been taken. I think we can assume that they’ve all gone the same way.”

  “What are they all doing?” Orac’s voice w
hispered across the link, much to For’son’s amusement.

  “Lying about, soaking up the sun,” Keesha replied.

  “Hmmm...” echoed the warrior’s voice throughout all of their minds.

  “What is it?” enquired the librarian, still more than a little out of his depth in the real world, on a mission.

  “I’ve found the ra-hoon, about two hundred metres this side of the dragons, just milling about in a large group. How far away would you say that we are Orac?”

  “About a thousand wingspans, maybe even more.”

  “And they haven’t cottoned on that we’re here and we haven’t had our minds invaded by them?”

  “No.”

  “It was rhetorical.”

  “Sorry.”

  “No problem.”

  “What are you thinking?” asked Keesha.

  “Just wondering about the range of their abilities. It would be interesting to know just how close we can get without being affected.”

  “I might be able to help with that,” piped up Orac, giving them both a knowing smile.

  “And...?”

  “Throughout much of our exhausting journey here, I scoured my memory for anything useful that we could use against the unicorn lookalikes.”

  “Yes...” said the graceful female, fluttering her eyelashes, urging him on.

  “It is possible, from what I can gather, to build a defensive shield around a dragon’s mind.”

  “WHAT?!” exclaimed For’son, having never heard anything like it in all his travels and library visits.

  Continuing despite his comrade’s rude interruption, Orac felt as alive as he ever had on catching the scent of the beautiful Gold as he thought of her.

  “On three separate occasions it’s been noted down that dragons have tried this with varying success.”

  “That’s not doing it then, is it, especially if they’ve failed spectacularly.”

  “All three attempts didn’t fail, only two… the other, well… let’s just say she did an outstanding job of thinking outside the box.”

  “Really?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “And you have the mantra that she used?”

  “I do.” With that, Orac pulled a folded up piece of parchment out of the humungous pocket lining his belly that all dragons have, some more so than others (no names... shopkeeper) and handed it across to his crystalline blue friend.

  In total and utter silence, with the other two watching on, For’son studied the words in front of him, having never seen anything like it. It was then that the librarian spoke up.

  “This is exactly what we’re doing back in London, the whole point of the library… to uncover valuable magic like this, to use for the good of our kind.”

  ‘He’s right,’ thought the warrior, agreeing totally with the sentiment. But to use a mantra that hadn’t been tried and tested was risky beyond belief, especially something that looked so old, and something all of his battle hardened senses shied away from immediately.

  “The book it’s taken from tells the tale of a settlement fighting off three deadly dark dragons that had adapted their telepathic talents to instead invade minds, corrupting all those they touched, killing some immediately, forcing other psyches to implode leaving their bodies husks of what they once were, unable to feed, fight or even stand. With half of their encampment decimated, the brightest minds left got together under cover of dark in an effort to pool their intelligence and magic to put an end to the evil casting a shadow over all of them. What you have in front of you is the result of their knowhow and toil.”

  “So you say, but will it work?”

  “Well,” whispered the librarian, “why don’t we test it out?”

  ‘Wow,’ thought Keesha, ‘this has gone from bad to worse,’ knowing full well that testing ancient and unusual mantras had the potential to go very, very badly. ‘Oh well, in for a penny, in for a pound.’

  “What would you have us do Orac?”

  “Use the mantra, and Keesha and I will try and use our telepathy to attack your mind... in the friendliest way possible.”

  It did kind of make sense, For’son begrudgingly told himself, and the goal was a worthy one, because if the spell did work, it would prove to be a huge advantage in righting the ra-hoon’s huge wrong. But it was still a very big IF, as far as he was concerned.

  “Okay... we’ll give it a try, but go gentle while we’re still testing it... right?”

  “Sure,” they both mouthed simultaneously, much to their amusement.

  Away from the hole in the rock now, with absolutely no possibility of anyone down below spotting them, the courageous and talented warrior dragon closed his huge dinner plate sized eyes, took a few deep breaths, and brought forth the words at the front of his mind, clearing his thoughts of anything else.

  Written in an exceptionally ancient tongue, he did understand most of it, but not all. But that didn’t matter, not so long as he applied enough magic and a considerable amount of his powerful will. Ready... he did just that.

  Instantly, he felt different, but it was difficult to tell why. And then he had something. He couldn’t feel either of the others, well... not with his eyes closed. Before, he could sense their presence, mentally anyhow, but not now. There was nothing, just the bare rock, the sand grating on his talons and the air surrounding him. He knew they were both there next to him, he could hear their breathing for goodness sake, but for all intents and purposes they were invisible to his mind. Only then did he decide to try and retreat inside himself to see what he could find. Pulling back, barely breathing at all, which didn’t really matter that much as dragons can hold their breath for round about an hour if they have to, handy when diving beneath water in the hunt for elusive fish in faraway places, he continued his search.

  Feeling not only in control, but experiencing a certain sense of familiarity, instantly he recognised where he was, well... kind of. In a mixture of whites, greys and blacks, words and sentences were cut into the wall of wherever it was his intellect currently resided. It took a few moments before he got it, but when he did, he was utterly astounded.

  ‘The writing... that’s everything my eidetic memory has ever come across.’

  And he was right... it was. Within something resembling half a sphere, words and sentences zipped about in mid-air, some of them mantras, others chit-chat, the occasional pivotal moment in there as well. Abruptly, the walls and writing faded, still visible... just, more translucent than anything, revealing a layered outer wall beyond, like that of an igloo, forming a strong outer casing to his mind, all but impenetrable, or at least that was the hope.

  Back in reality, Orac was... frustrated, having already tried half a dozen times to breach the mental defences of the dragon he admired the most. Alright, he gave him a hard time about how he handled himself, but inside he did at least recognise the need for For’son’s unique skill set, the passion and dedication with which he protected the king and his keen grasp of all things written and magical, as well as his propensity to seek out new knowledge in an effort to expand his mind. That one thought gave him an idea about a new approach to the test that they were running. If he couldn’t break in, perhaps he could lure the warrior’s mind out.

  Sitting beside the two of them, Keesha had followed Orac’s instructions to the letter, gently prodding and probing the mental part of the bright, blue dragon only a few metres away, hoping to get some kind of response or feel his intellect on a basic level. Surprisingly though, it was hidden away, buried for all intents and purposes, impossible to get hold of, however hard she tried, and she did, only now giving all that she had in an effort to do so, but to no avail.

  Still studying the inside of his mind, mouth open, well... it would have been, gaping in fact, in awe at his surroundings, only then did he feel a pressing need to ... what? A vaguely familiar tug in the right direction suddenly made him feel... alive, with a tangible buzz making his silent and still body tingle all over. Without him kn
owing it, his brain chemistry started to change, lighting up neurons inside his head, pulling his attention in a different direction to where it had previously been.

  ‘Knowledge,’ he thought... ‘somewhere out there is undiscovered information that I just have to get my hands on.’ If he’d applied a little logic to the situation, he’d have realised quite quickly the impossibility of it all, sitting as he was with his two cohorts beneath a rocky overhang at the top of a ridge in the middle of what was essentially a desert. But he didn’t, or more accurately... couldn’t, because his all encompassing addiction had him in its grasp. That’s right, he was addicted... to finding knowledge, especially the magical kind. Wherever he went across the world on the king’s orders, he sought out anything he could that was supernatural and written down, not for his own purposes of course, but to help ensure its survival by bringing it back to the library in London, having it copied for future generations to see and use as they would see fit. Here and now though, his compulsion had him scrabbling about in an effort to lower his defences so that he could get out and get his hands, I mean mind, on that sumptuous knowledge that he just couldn’t resist, something the librarian was counting upon.

  “It’s no good,” declared Keesha to Orac, “no matter how hard I try, I simply cannot touch him.”

  “That’s good my dear,” replied the librarian, “it means that the mantra is working. I however have a little plan in motion, something that any second now should come to fruition.”

  And it did... right there and then!

  Nothing else existed, not in that moment, so bad was his craving for the lost knowledge that he was sure was out there. And so he did the one thing that he shouldn’t, the one thing that, if he were truly facing the ra-hoon, would cost him his life and bring about a resounding defeat. He dismissed the mantra he’d cast, the one that Orac had given him, and returned to reality in search of the information that he thought was out there spurred on by his infatuation.

  “Gotcha!” screamed the librarian across the telepathic boundaries of their link, the moment For’son lowered his defences.