“Here.” Chasm dropped a bedraggled rabbit carcass at Damara’s feet and began to walk away.
Damara curled back her lip in disgust. The animal’s head was twisted at an unnatural angle and its cold, dead eyes stared out at nothing. “I don’t want that!”
“You’re going to have to eat something.”
“Not this nasty thing!” Damara picked the broken rabbit up by the tip of its ear. “It isn’t fit for me to eat. It needs to be skinned and cooked- but I don’t know how to do that. Besides, look at how mutilated it is!” She shook the carcass, blood and slobber flicking off its feet.
“It will be fine.” Chasm was unmoved. “Just learn what you need to do.”
Damara looked at the dead animal unhappily, though she realized her stomach was growling. I do have a little blade in my satchel, she reasoned reluctantly. And some flint. If I just tried to prepare it, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad…
She walked over to a rock where she could kneel and lay out the wet rabbit. She wiped her hands on the grass before retrieving her tiny knife from her satchel. The blade rested in the rabbit’s fur as she hesitated.
Down the middle? she considered, poking the animal onto its back so that its belly was exposed. Here I go…
She bit her lip and plunged the knife into its chest, far too deep.
Damara cringed at the sound of the blade entering the carcass. She retracted the knife, staring at the small incision with little idea of what to do next. Cautiously, she stabilized the rabbit with one hand and re-entered the blade, except not so deep. Then she struggled to slice it down the middle, grimacing as blood clots oozed onto her fingers.
It took her a long time to remove the pelt, shred by pitiful shred. Gutting the rabbit went quicker, but repulsed her even more as messy innards strung out of the gaping body. At last, the sorry-looking carcass was ready to be cooked and she speared it with a stick.
After gathering some twigs and arranging them inside a circle of stones, Damara struck the flint with her knife, hoping for sparks. She tried several times, but any sparks she created failed to light the kindling below. Frustrated, she rocked back on her feet, then jumped in surprise as her back pressed up against something. It was Chasm, standing right behind her, watching.
“You really don’t know what you’re doing,” he remarked.
Damara’s skin crawled with irritation for a moment before she thought of something.
“How could I be so stupid?!” she exclaimed. “I don’t have to light the fire. You can do it for me!” She twisted around to look at him.
Chasm held himself smugly as he said, “Actually, I don’t breathe fire.”
“What?!” Damara was astonished. “Dragons can’t breathe fire?”
No, that can’t be right! I’ve seen them do it- haven’t I?
“Most can,” Chasm answered. “I just decided against it.”
Damara furrowed her brow. Decided against it?
She looked to Veer and Hasten. “Do you breathe fire?” she asked them.
Veer gazed at her with a bored look in her eye, responding by flicking sparks off of her tongue. Hasten spat a flame out at a butterfly fluttering past, which turned to ash in midair.
“Will you please help me light a fire?” Damara urged them, pointing to her circle of rocks and tinder.
The dragons ignored her. Veer even turned over to face the other direction.
Why won’t they help me?
Damara crinkled her nose in embitterment and looked up at Chasm. “I can’t do it,” she complained.
“Sure you can,” he dismissed and walked away.
With an unhappy sigh, Damara picked up the flint again.
Eventually, Chasm’s statement proved true as she managed to get a fire going. Now eyeing the rabbit carcass with hunger, she held it over the flames, willing it to roast faster.
Damara picked the meat off its bones, feeling proud to have prepared and roasted her first dead animal out in the wild.
I am a true forest person. She smirked. I really can take care of myself.
. . .
How long is this going to take? Damara wondered irritably, venturing down a valley crag. We’ve been here in these mountains for well over a week and Chasm still won’t tell me when we can go back. We can’t miss the Parade of the Troops!
She kicked a stone in boredom. It tumbled down a slope, scaring a deer and its spotted fawn. Damara watched keenly as the red youngling leapt alongside its mother, bounding away.
Seems as though all my friends neglect to tell me things. She sighed. First, Xander wouldn’t tell me about our old life with the dragons, and now this. Doesn’t anyone trust me?
She huffed, blowing hair out of her face.
Exploring had become a habit of hers as she killed time waiting for Chasm to decide they were ready. Each day, she would pick a valley and see where it went. She hoped to find the glowing yellow tree she had seen on her way in, but its exact location remained a mystery.
Damara enjoyed the mountains. They provided her plenty of challenges, like obstacles to climb and paths to remember. She’d never lost her way, but knew that if she did, Chasm would find her in no time at all. It was a comforting thought.
I wonder how Xander is doing, she pondered, realizing he must be training for battle still. By the time I see him again, he’ll probably have mastered archery.
She glared up at the face of a mountain as she darkly thought, He’ll be forced to go to war if Chasm doesn’t fulfill his promise to me soon.
The realization made her heart jolt with fear, but her mind quickly denied it. No, she told herself. The parade will happen before anything else- and that’s where I come in.
She examined the rocky slope and decided to test her skills against it, clambering up the steep cliff as quickly as possible. In not too long, she reached the top, straightening up and turning around to see the valley below.
She smirked, seeing that, in just a few minutes, she had climbed higher than a full grown tree.
Something sounded behind her and she spun a half circle.
But it was just a pika chirping in alarm of her arrival.
Damara descended a cliff side a little ways away from the one she had just climbed, noting her surroundings with the intentions of finding her way back later.
To her left, she heard a second animal squeak and took a closer look. A monigon!
The little creature was a reptilian copy of the pika Damara had just seen. Complete with a small rounded body and stout legs, the main difference between this monigon and the pika was the miniscule, dusty brown scales that composed its dragonish hide.
Why is it that monigons resemble other animals so closely? Damara wondered. She reached a finger out to the monigon, trying to see if it would let her touch it. The little creature stared at her for a moment, then darted away into the small crook of a tree. Maybe Xander knows, she thought.
Did he make up the term monigon or is that what the dragons called them? I’ll have to ask him when I get back.
She jumped down from a rock and landed on her feet, bending her knees a little to lessen the jarring impact. She looked up at the rock, just now considering how she planned to get back on top of it when she decided to return.
I’ll find a way.
Wait, am I sinking?!
Damara stared at her feet slowly being swallowed by mud. Quickly, she stepped up onto a large stone and shook clumps of dirt from each foot.
That was a close call, Damara thought, reminded of the bogs that claimed countless sheep and goats in Wystil.
As she followed the great mud mass with her eyes, she saw a huge crater in the mountain side opposite of her, the aftermath of a mudslide. She saw the roots of trees ripped from the ground, the splintered trunks, the dislodged boulders.
Already, small flowers were taking advantage of the newly settled dirt, rising up from the ground as though yearning to replace the plants smothered underneath. There was one thing that caught her eye, making her
lean forward as far as she could without touching the ground as she tried to figure out what it was. It was partially buried, but she could tell it was definitely out of place.
I have to find out what that is, she decided, testing the mud with her toes before easing herself onto it. She sunk a little ways down, then stopped.
Splaying herself out, she crawled on hands and knees in a wide stance, reminding herself of a funny, squashed lizard. She laughed, trying to keep her stomach from touching the ground as she kept her limbs stretched far and wide.
Damara came upon the mysterious item in the mud and picked it up for investigation. Ever so gently, she wiped the dirt from its crevices. Amazed, she found that it was a ring with the likeness of a fish.
She held it up to the sunlight, seeing how beautifully each scale was etched into its flawless, pure white body. The figure was carved out of ivory.
This is more valuable than anything I’ve ever seen…
Her mind could barely process the words. The fish looked as though it was leaping for a moth, its body curled into a near circle. The splayed wings of the moth completed the ring, one wing connected to the tip of the fish’s tail and the other connected to the fish’s gaping mouth. The fish’s eye was a small green gemstone embedded into the side of its pinched, smooth head.
She placed it into the palm of her hand, folding her fingers over it as though it were a delicate flower. Then she opened her hand again, as if to make sure it hadn’t disappeared.
It was still there, sitting in the cup of her hand as motionless as a pebble.
The value of this object must be tenfold my life, and yet it doesn’t have the mind to comprehend its own worth! Damara almost expected the treasure to heat up and burn her skin in fury of being handled by a peasant.
Where did it come from? She stared around at the abundant mud, but there was no other sign of humans in the area. However, a faint melody rose from the distance.
What kind of a bird is that? She frowned, gripping the ring tightly in her fist and leaping up onto the trunk of a fallen tree. She strained her ears. Flattening herself against the huge knot of dirt-packed roots, she peered around as the strange sounds grew ever louder.
The odd, rising and dropping tune became so strong that Damara could hear it echoing off the cliff behind her. She slunk even lower to the muddy bark of the tree, eyes flying about in fear of the overwhelming unknown. Her knuckles blanched white as she clenched the ivory fish tighter.
Then, her gaze fell on the singer- a silvery white dragon.
Damara let the air of her lungs escape. The beast was bigger than Chasm, and his gleaming scales caught sunlight like puddles caught raindrops.
‘There are other dragons beyond here that aren’t so…chivalrous,’ Damara recalled Chasm’s words.
Oh God, she balked. I’ve ventured too far.
She knew calling for Chasm to come rescue her was the last thing she ought to do. The stranger would reach her much sooner than her plea would reach Chasm’s ears. The most she could think to do was keep low and breathlessly still, staring out at the newcomer as she prayed the mud would mask her scent.
The silver beast moved unusually, ever so slowly swaying to the rhythm of his song. He coiled and stretched, making his way down the rocky cliffs at a leisurely pace. Damara saw that his eyes were closed and he wore a smile of content.
Damara slunk closer still to the knot of roots, praying he wouldn’t notice her.
Come find me, Chasm!
The dragon reached the edge of the mud mess, planting his feet in an elegant pose as he became completely motionless, like an egret poised in the water. Then he turned his head, opening his eyes to look right at Damara.
She drew in a sharp breath.
Don’t panic.
Carefully, she pulled her knees in close to her body, should she find the need to spring away. She knew her chance of survival was slim if the dragon were to attack her. She glared into his eyes in hopes of hiding her fear.
I will not surrender to fear. I will stand my ground until Chasm comes to find me.
“Oh, hello,” the dragon said. “I thought I smelled a human in these valleys. Without those iron bond plants, I suppose just about anyone can pass through here now.”
Damara huddled on the tree trunk, staring out at him distrustfully.
He acts friendly. Probably just to catch me off guard.
She tried to think about her surroundings without breaking eye contact.
Where could I run without getting stuck in the mud?
She couldn’t recall what was behind her, but decided it wasn’t worth the risk to look.
“My name is Clyde- heard from the distance!” The dragon smiled amiably at her. “It’s a good thing you didn’t come here right when the whole mountain side collapsed. Although, that’d be quite a sight, I will admit.” He simpered, looking thoughtful as his eyes followed the mudslide all the way down to where he stood.
I’m helpless until Chasm comes for me, Damara knew. I need to keep the conversation going…be interesting prey so this dragon, Clyde, doesn’t attack me right away. She took a deep breath.
“Clyde…” she said, narrowing her eyes at him. “I thought that was a human name.”
“That it is,” he responded, nodding. “I happen to be a Cragerian- one of the first few humans to become a dragon.”
He became a dragon? Damara couldn’t help but furrow her brow in confusion. “I don’t understand.”
“Ah, I see,” the dragon replied. “Then I shall tell you about the history of us dragons…” He paused a moment, as though searching for a place to start.
This is good! Damara’s heart leapt. I can finally learn more about them! All I have to do is keep him talking.
Though undeniably eager to hear what the dragon had to say, she fought to appear unmoved.
“Crageria had a small castle on the coast farther down from this mountain range,” Clyde began. “I was a messenger there, as a human of course. But when a huge dragon came and destroyed nearly everything in Crageria, the few survivors, myself included, fled to this land set apart by mountains.
“It was there that we found the amazing firesap plants, whose fruit we didn’t hesitate to fill our empty stomachs with. It had special magical properties, however, and it was too late for us by the time we realized it. Soon after the powerful fruit entered our mouths, we were all turned into dragons.
“You turned into dragons?” Damara repeated after him, astounded. The troubling thought stirred a memory within her, but it was too fleeting for her to catch. All she could envision was being a small child, holding something as someone whispered in her ear.
“Oh, yes! I’m sure you can imagine the shock of taking on a completely new form just by eating one, little fruit!” Clyde laughed. “At first, everyone was devastated, but we all learned to adjust. Well…most of us. The Golden Dragon was used to the pampered life of a damsel, and she wasn’t willing to give it all up so easily.”
“So what did she do?” Damara urged him on, forgetting to stay guarded.
“She got ahold of some magic, which made her increasingly beautiful and alluring to anyone who was or used to be a human. Animals also felt the attraction, so prey came easily to her.” Clyde studied the area.
“She fled to this ravine with her most loyal, bewitched servants. They kidnapped dozens of young dragons that could steal treasures from the kingdom of Wystil. You’re from Wystil, aren’t you?” he asked, curiously peering at Damara.
She nodded slowly. “I am.” Her mind was racing with thoughts.
I still can’t believe dragons used to be humans! What if…what if I could become a dragon?
“Where is this fire-fruit?” she demanded. I must know.
“The firesap plant went extinct when rogue dragons came to burn and trample them in spite,” Chasm answered and Damara sighed. “See, the firesap plant was named after the magical properties of its sap. Dragons discovered that by consuming even the s
mallest quantity of its spicy residue granted them the ability to breathe fire. But it was later also discovered that it would cause an early death for anyone who consumed it in this way. The firesap even passed down to the firebreathers’ offspring, fossilizing the clutches so that none of the eggs would hatch. There was one exception, but the hatchling that emerged was terribly ill and soon died from the firesap overtaking its insides. It was a heartbreaking day, indeed.” Clyde bowed his head.
Firesap kills the dragons in their early years? Damara thought, wide-eyed as she recalled Chasm telling her that most dragons breathed fire. How long will it be until the dragons are nearly extinct? At least Chasm won’t die soon…he was smart enough not to accept the firesap.
“Most of the dragons have left since then, after another disaster struck and our creek was diminished,” Clyde continued. “But some of us have stayed to wait out the lack of water. Some firebreathers have already been overcome by the firesap stirring within their systems. It’s only a matter of time before every one of them dies, I’m afraid.”
“Are you among them?” Damara asked. She didn’t want him to stop talking.
“Thankfully not,” Clyde answered. “Others told me about the excruciating pain after accepting the firesap. The ability to breathe fire never sounded worth it to me.”
How can such a huge dragon be afraid of pain? Damara scrutinized. Perhaps I’ve been a fool to be scared of him. Any dragon not power-hungry enough to want the breath of fire must not be violent.
Thinking this, she relaxed completely, moving her tired legs out from under her so she could sit on the tree more comfortably.
“Do you know what a monigon is?” she asked. She held the ring loosely in her hand now, almost forgetting that it was there.
“But of course!” The silvery dragon was obviously happy to inform her. “A monigon is any animal that ate of the firesap fruit. They are, in essence, dragons like the rest of us, but still we prefer to refer to them as monigons.”
It makes so much sense. Damara was amazed. That’s why monigons look exactly like dragon copies of other animals- because they are!
“Ah.” Clyde’s eyes falling to Damara’s hands where she held the ivory fish. “I see you’ve found one of the Golden Dragon’s treasures!”
Quickly she closed her hands over the ring.
“It’s amazing that one would manage to stay above ground after the whole hoard was covered,” Clyde commented. “There’s so much mud piled on the rest of it; I doubt anyone but the worms will ever come across it again!”
“There’s more?” Damara asked, astonished.
“More than you could imagine,” he replied. “Like I said, the Golden Dragon forced young dragons to steal treasures from Wystil for her. All the gold, silver, and ivory got piled up into one great hoard until the Golden Dragon and her servants were killed. Then her bones and everything else got smothered by the mud.”
Damara stared down at the mudslide beneath her. She felt as though she were on holy ground.
Clyde turned his head to the rocky cliffs. “Well hello, Chasm!” he called out. “Fancy seeing you here.”
Damara looked up to see Chasm slink out of the boulders. “And you, Clyde,” he purred just as cordially. “Although, it’s never a surprise to find you wandering wherever you like.”
“You know each other?” Damara asked, relieved.
“Clyde knows everyone,” Chasm answered. “It’s the way nomads like him are- they’ve met every face and set foot in every place.”
Clyde closed his eyes, chuckling. “Not quite,” he said. “But perhaps someday. And how have you two met, might I ask?”
Damara perked up. “We’ve been friends since we were small!” she replied, slipping the ring on her finger. Chasm hovered just above the mud and she gratefully clambered onto him.
“Well,” Chasm corrected, “she was the small one.”
“You were smaller then, too!” Damara laughed from his back.
Clyde gave her a heartened smile, though his eyes were quizzical.
“And what is it that you’re doing here?” he asked.
Damara opened her mouth to tell him their plan, but Chasm spoke first.
“Oh, I was just showing Damara around,” he said casually.
Did he just lie? She cocked her head. Does he not trust Clyde?
Before she could say anything else, Chasm bid Clyde farewell and ascended with Damara into the sky.
“Bye, Clyde!” Damara called, waving, and he flexed his wings with a smile. Still, he looked curious of her, but she gave it little thought as she happily held out her hand in front of her face.
I finally know about the dragons! She admired the finely detailed fish encircling her finger. And as if that weren’t enough, I’ve found something that will make me wealthier than ever before!
Now if only I could get back home and show Xander how far I’ve come.
Chapter 7