Bentwhistle the Dragon Box

by Paul Cude

  Young dragons from across the marble covered courtyard eagerly leapt to their feet, pushing and shoving each other out of the way, to see just who would be the first to leave the classroom.

  2 A Tail of Humility

  Peter leapt down from the thick rock wall that surrounded the nursery ring, instantly missing the comforting heat, provided by the tiny lines of lava, that it had provided over the hour or so that he'd been sitting there. Heading east on one of the wide paved walkways that littered the underground domain of the dragons, he pondered much of what he'd just heard.

  It had been three years since he'd left his nursery ring (this one in fact); however, something always seemed to draw him back. On feeling the urge to return, he'd always try to do so late in the afternoon, knowing full well that the young dragonlings could choose the subject matter at that particular time of day, something he remembered fondly. Dragon lore was always a popular choice, along with magic and myths. He'd lost count of the number of times he'd heard the legendary tale of George and the Dragon, probably at least fifty by now. Even so, he still ended up being spell-bound, with goose pimples running the length and breadth of his body, almost certainly just like the pupils in the class. Strolling purposefully towards the monorail station, instinctively jumping across the much bigger gaps in the floor in which rivers of dazzling orange and red lava flowed, helping to keep the entire area heated, he made sure not to let even a drop touch his brand new trainers.

  Dragon families and relationships, unlike those of humans, appear to have no rhyme or reason. Some parents visit their children in the nursery ring every day, others just deposit the newly formed egg there, never to return. Some dragons are maternal, others not at all. Peter had never met his parents. In fact, as hard as he'd tried, he hadn't been able to find out a single thing about them. In the end, he'd given up trying, putting it down to them being that way genetically inclined, but on doing so he'd sworn to himself that if he were to ever meet the right dragon and be in the position of becoming a father, things would be very different, and he'd move heaven and earth to make sure that was the case. Like thousands of others, his earliest memories after hatching from his egg were those of the praeceptors or tors as the students liked to refer to them. The praeceptors act as tutors and mentors to the young dragons, only in a much more holistic way than up above on the surface. Their guidance not only covers the academic studies that dragonlings will learn during a fifty year compulsory attendance period, but also much more personal skills that include learning to fly, changing and maintaining shape, grooming, diet, family history, economics, relationships and social skills (both dragon and human). Given the complexity and sensitive nature of all of this, it's no surprise that most dragons tend to form really strong bonds with their tors, particularly if they have no recollection of their real parents. Quite often the youngsters come to think of their tutors as a parent or guardian figure.

  A dragon's growth rate far exceeds that of a normal human being. Physically a dragon can reach full grown maturity by the time he or she reaches the ripe old age of ten years, with most two year olds having a far greater intellect than the average human adult. Peter reached his tenth year maturity celebration in the nursery ring without any fuss. He hadn't particularly excelled at any one thing, unlike most of the others in his class; he didn't really know what he was going to do when he left the nursery rings (not that many dragons do at that age, particularly given that they have another forty years of study ahead of them), and although he admired and respected his tor, he hadn't built up the kind of relationship with him that others in the class had. There were, however, two things that tended to stand out in his mind from that time in his life. The first was the friendship he had formed with two of his classmates, a friendship that was as strong today as it had been back then, some fifty two years ago.

  Richie Rump was a beautiful, slim, sleek dragon. She'd hatched just a few months after Peter, and after only a matter of weeks they seemed to have formed an incredible bond of friendship. As dragons go, Richie was a real eye-catcher. While Peter was more short and round with a longer than average neck, small jaw and great big floppy undragon-like ears, more suited to a rabbit than a dragon, Richie was petite, shapely, perfectly formed with a gorgeous sparkling emerald green hue, except on her tummy, where the green gently blended into a lovely soft shade of yellow. What she lacked in stature, she more than made up for in grace, speed, determination and just outright effort. From an early age, Richie had always out-performed the rest of her class at anything physical. She was the first in the ring to master flying (although she had a sneaking suspicion that one of her best friends had been holding back on that front) and even now can out-fly dragons twice her size, matching them easily for speed and aerobatics. No slouch on the academic front either, most of the young dragons knew better than to challenge Richie to anything either physical or mental, because it was almost certain to end in humiliation, for the challenger anyway.

  Peter's other friend was called Tank. Although relatively naive (just like most of the dragons in the nursery ring) Peter thought Tank was the most caring, thoughtful and considerate dragon in the whole world. A huge mountain of a dragon, Tank's huge bulk could easily fit Peter's squat little frame underneath one of his giant wings. Had he more speed and dexterity he might have been groomed to be a professional laminium ball player, he was certainly the right shape and size for it, but whenever the subject was brought up, Tank always managed to wriggle out of talking about it. What his friend did have though, was a great affinity for nature, always knowing even more than the tors seemed to about anything related to plants or animals, much to their utter amazement. Always the first to jump in and stand up for his friends, Tank never ran from an argument or confrontation, not that Richie ever found herself in a position to need his help. Peter though, well that was a different matter altogether. Teasing and taunting were commonplace for him, some of which would end up going too far, but Tank was always ready to step in and help his friend. It always seemed to be the same culprits but the tors preferred to step back and let the young dragons deal with it themselves, classing it as part of their development process. This protection was just one of the reasons Peter supposed that the bond between himself and Tank had grown as strong as the one between him and Richie. The three of them were inseparable in much the same way then as they are now.

  The second thing Peter remembered vividly from that period in his life was the dragon in human guise that often came along to watch lessons (much as he himself had done today) and see how the dragons were getting on. Even though Peter had no family to speak of, he always thought fondly of that particular dragon, and although they had only ever exchanged a few polite words, he always got the impression that the dragon was keeping an eye out for him in some way, shape or form. He always appeared in the human guise of an old man with long, straggly, grey hair flowing down past his shoulders, a captivating walking stick made of light coloured oak, and an air of importance. Whenever Peter thought back, the walking stick always stood out. If you had a million walking sticks to choose from, and had to go through them all, this was the one you would have. It seemed somehow... special.

  Never sticking to a routine, the old man would show up at the nursery ring, much as Peter had just done, but would also turn up at Lava Falls and watch the young dragons practice their aerial manoeuvres and impromptu laminium ball matches.

  The last time Peter had set eyes on him was on the day the whole class graduated. Traditions vary from nursery ring to nursery ring across the entire planet, but they all have them. Peter's nursery ring at Purbeck Peninsula was no different, with the entire class of young dragons finding themselves atop the highest cliff at Lava Falls on this very special day. Watched by the entire staff, the youngsters gathered in their human forms, just over a mile above the roiling lake of super-heated lava, bubbling ferociously away beneath them. Peter could vividly recall trying not to choke on the acrid fumes as the heat and steam buffeted his face, ev
en at that distance. He could also recollect glancing over his shoulder at the staff from the nursery ring and, just out of the corner of one eye, catching sight of the old man, who, when their eyes met, gave Peter a wink and a smile. With little chance to dwell on it at the time, he was suddenly caught up in a mad rush of graduating dragons running at full speed off the cliffs in their human forms. Pulled over the edge clumsily, he ended up diving head first off the cliff, a very scary feeling in his human form, even though it was comparatively tame compared with the kind of flying that most dragons were used to.

  The idea behind this particular tradition was that the youngsters would leap off the cliff in their human guises, and on the drop down would transform back into their natural dragon selves, flying up into the air to celebrate. Changing shape halfway through a drop like this would be taxing for an experienced adult dragon. Thus, there was a definite element of danger to the whole thing. Peter remembered the effort he had to put in to effect the change to his dragon form. The sheer exhilaration that he'd experienced once he'd completed the change and zoomed up into the air, after being only metres away from the vicious looking boiling lava, was unlike anything he'd ever felt, up to and including this very day.

  After a few minutes of flying around to celebrate, the whole class had flown down to meet the staff for a final meal that had been prepared and laid out on the cliff top. As they did so, Peter sought out the old dragon, hoping to have a friendly chat, but much to his surprise and disappointment, he was nowhere to be seen. That was the last time he'd seen the old man. He often found himself wondering what the old dragon was doing now, and if like Peter he still visited the nursery ring from time to time. Looking back, Peter assumed the old man/dragon must have been taught at the Purbeck Peninsula nursery ring, and that's why he liked to return, much like himself. What other reason could there possibly be?

  From his tenth year onwards, lessons at the nursery ring, as far as Peter was concerned, became vastly more interesting. Up until then, their education had consisted of the kind of things humans would learn: maths, languages, history, science, economics, geography and a broad range of religious and human studies (everything about the human world that had not already been covered). They had also covered dragon basics, such as flying, grooming, mating, diet, dragon beliefs and the founding principles. But things were about to get more interesting, in the shape of dragon lore, self defence, moral standing, spatial awareness and mantras in all their shapes and forms.

  Mantras were the one subject guaranteed to put a glint into a young dragon's eye. All had heard what they could achieve, but only a few had ever seen examples in real life. None had ever cast a mantra themselves because they were too young, although Tank might have a few secrets in that department. Mantras could do pretty much anything from healing humans, dragons, animals and plants, to repairing machinery of any kind. Common everyday uses for mantras included being used to effect a dragon's change from its natural form (solitus) to the surface disguise of a human (mutatio). That particular mantra takes years to perfect and it requires the utmost concentration to hold that form for a sustained period of time. This was basically what the next forty years in the nursery ring would hold, learning to swap forms and more importantly maintain the unfamiliar human guise indefinitely, without any flaws or imperfections. Once the young dragons had mastered that, they would learn how to make subtle changes to their guises, which would let them blend in on the surface, in whatever role would be assigned to them. Of course they would be taught other mantras and magical abilities along the way, but transforming into a human shape would almost certainly be the most important.

  Recalling his very first mantra lesson with great clarity, the thought of sitting on that cold marble floor in the courtyard caused him to shiver uncontrollably. The tor had demonstrated how to use the mantra properly, with the students standing around, expected to repeat the process. Their class was never a particularly quiet place even when it was supposed to be, but on that day, in that class, you could hear the sizzling of flames dribbling from nervous nostrils across the room, as the dragonlings all watched each other to see just who would be brave enough to go first.

  A small dragon by the name of Tempest was the first to try. Usually shy and retiring, it was something of a surprise that she'd plucked up the courage to have a go. Sitting in the middle of the courtyard she took a deep breath, unrolled her parchment and, closing her eyes in concentration, recited the mantra. Even though they were all supposed to be getting on with the exact same thing, the other students couldn't take their eyes off the young, female dragon.

  The single most important aspect of casting a mantra successfully is channelling the concentration and belief behind the words. This will nearly always determine whether or not a mantra will succeed or fail. It also determines just how effective a mantra will be. For example, a healing mantra being used on a deep, open wound, if used by an experienced healer, will heal the wound, destroy any infection, and remove any scar tissue. The exact same mantra used by someone less experienced, and not directing the same sort of concentration or belief into it, may not have the same effect. It may fail to close the wound properly, leave an infection, or it may heal it all up, but leave a massive scar. The difference between total and faltering concentration and belief is staggering; the results can lead to the mantra not working at all, working less effectively, or sometimes producing unpredictable side effects.

  All the dragon students had been taught this, many times over, but most had not really paid attention; they were too excited about the prospect of performing their first mantra. That was why the tor had chosen this particular one and why, if the students had looked closely at their tutor, they would have noticed the beginnings of a smile forming at the bottom of his huge, prehistoric jaw, something that this most serious of dragons rarely allowed to happen.

  Tempest, although she tried, clearly hadn't put enough belief and concentration into her mantra, and was just starting to learn the true meaning of unpredictable side effects.

  Demonstrating the mantra some five minutes earlier, the tor's tail had, starting at its tip, shrunk until it was no longer visible. This was the mantra's purpose and what should have happened if used properly. Known only to the tor was the fact that this particular mantra was unbelievably specific and amazingly sensitive to incorrect pronunciation or not enough channelled belief. A look of utter horror and humiliation was etched across Tempest's face at the moment, as not only had her tail begun to grow bigger, but it had also split into three parts, each of which were now growing and snaking across the airy courtyard of their own accord. Students occupying the area directly behind the stricken student were dumbstruck momentarily. That soon changed as they were forced to dive and roll out of the way of the ever expanding tails and flee back into the adjacent indoor teaching area, or try and make a dash to get round the front of the horror stricken Tempest.

  Looking back on the whole thing, Peter thought it absolutely hilarious, but at the time it seemed anything but. Eventually Tempest's tails stopped growing, but not before each had split into three again, leaving the poor dragonling rooted to the spot in the middle of the courtyard with nine tails embedded firmly in the broken marble floor.

  The lesson for the classmates had ended there that day, with them being dismissed and sent off to Lava Falls to practice their aerial combat techniques. Everyone, with the exception of one or two of the bullies that occasionally picked on Peter, was aghast at what had befallen Tempest, with very little flying taking place, most preferring to sit on the cliff side and speculate on the aforementioned events. That night Tempest was missing from her dormitory, with nobody in authority having the faintest idea of her whereabouts or wellbeing. The next morning, all of the students except Tempest sat waiting nervously for the tor to arrive for that day's lessons. To their surprise, in he walked with a big beaming smile broadcast across his face, followed closely by a very healthy and happy looking Tempest.

  Missing pieces of the
puzzle soon began to fall into place. The tor had undone all of the tail trouble in only a matter of moments after the students had left the previous day. Proceeding to repair all the walls and the marble flooring in the courtyard, he then treated Tempest to a slap up meal, persuading her to stay in alternative accommodation that night, just to make the students sweat that little bit more. The entire scenario had been designed to show the students what could potentially happen if mantras were not used with enough conviction and belief. You might have the world's supply of mana (the magical supply of an individual's natural energy) to power the mantras, and you might be able to pronounce the text faultlessly, but without the right conviction and belief behind them, they could be almost worthless. Peter was certain that none of the students that witnessed the events of that afternoon would ever forget the lesson it was designed to teach them.

  Reality flooded back as the walkway he was on started to widen and fill up with dragons of all shapes and sizes. Focused firmly on not bumping into any of them, he marvelled at the surrounding area, wondering just what the humans on the surface would make of the secret world just beneath their feet.

  Purbeck Peninsula was one of the oldest dragon enclaves in Britain, second only to London itself. Based beneath the south of England in a region that covers the area from the east of Bournemouth through to the west of Swanage, as far south as the most southerly point of the Isle of Wight, and as far north as Wimborne Minster, Purbeck Peninsula dates back over three thousand years. It draws its name from the fact that its centre is located directly beneath the beautiful Isle of Purbeck, and because the underground area on which the community is built is surrounded by unusual layers of molten lava, making it almost inaccessible from other dragon communities.

  It was originally built with only one point of access underground, from the north, which is remarkable in itself as most dragon towns or cities across the world have at least five or six main entry points, because despite their knowledge and power, dragons still acknowledge that they are susceptible to natural disasters and unforeseen circumstances. Although there is only one underground point of access to Purbeck Peninsula, like all dragon-inhabited areas there are hundreds, if not thousands, of secluded entrances to the surface. Most of these are tiny, located in either shops or private residences, with slightly larger ones existing in more out of the way spots on the surface, so that unsuspecting humans don't stumble across them accidentally. Those around Purbeck include caves, abandoned mines, secretly activated entrances in various ruins, two or three rather creative underwater access ways, and some very interesting ones based around a series of puzzles.