Bentwhistle the Dragon Box

by Paul Cude

  Starting to open his mouth, the old dragon held up a finger to stop him.

  "Unlike if you were just to project an image at me and I could choose to accept or reject it, this mantra will, if you're willing to give it a go, let me relive everything from that moment or moments in exact and minute detail. But before you agree, you should know that, of course, it's not quite as simple as that... it never is. Not only will I see the memory, but I'll share everything else about the events, the sounds, the smells, as well as your feelings... both the physical sensations and whatever else was running through your mind. This is something that will almost, in essence, allow me to be you and know everything about you at the time of the event in question. I'll know what you were thinking and it's quite possible that your deepest darkest secrets will make themselves known to me. Once it's over, I will still retain all the information, as if I've lived through that particular moment in time. It's not something to be used lightly... if ever at all. But it is the ONLY way I can think of that might convince me that what you say about the prophecy is... true!"

  Blowing out a breath of air at the amount of information he had to take in, it all sounded more than a little frightening to the young dragon... having the shopkeeper inside his head, sharing all his feelings, his deepest, darkest secrets, not that he considered that he had any really, well... apart from JANICE! But time was running out, and he was committed to helping Richie, and would do ANYTHING he could to that end.

  "Let's do it!" he quipped, without hesitation.

  "I think we should both sit," suggested the old dragon, plopping down onto the rocky floor, the scales on his belly wobbling like a plateful of jelly.

  "Here?"

  "It's as good a place as any."

  Sitting down opposite his friend, Peter crossed his legs, looking like a very well behaved school child.

  Pushing his glasses as far up his nose as they would go, the master mantra maker studied the parchment in front of him, as his young charge focused on his breathing and tried to remain calm. Finally the old dragon looked up.

  "Okay, I think I'm ready to proceed. It will take a lot of magical power to make this work, but I think we'll be alright here. Some of the objects may indeed help us out if we get stuck. Once we start, you will have to focus intently on that memory, and nothing else. No distractions, just that one memory. But know this, as with everything, there comes a risk. There's no certainty that this will work... it might well fail spectacularly, and we both might get hurt in the process. I'll ask you one last time. Are you really sure you want to do this?"

  Gritting his teeth, Peter nodded, and very calmly replied,

  "Yes."

  "So be it!" exclaimed the old dragon. "Let us begin."

  Bowing his head, in an ancient tongue Gee Tee began muttering guttural and torturous sounds, some so incomprehensible they might well have come from a wounded animal, or indeed a different planet. Closing his eyes, Peter brought forth the memory of going to give Richie a lift to the lacrosse match. Almost instantly, she was there, opening the door to her flat, yawning away, inviting him in. Watching himself slipping past her and climbing up the staircase felt weird in the extreme. And then it happened! At first it felt as though something were pushing on the back of his eyeballs, but after a split second or so, the bizarre and uncomfortable feeling encompassed his entire skull, almost as if a giant hand were squeezing it uncontrollably. Fighting off the urge to be sick, his eyelids slid closed. Still the squeezing continued. Reaching the top of the stairs in the flat, the image started to blur and fade. Redoubling his efforts, and ignoring his body's doubts, he concentrated solely on that day, that moment. It was all or nothing.

  'I haven't felt this odd since I took the form of that bat, and spent the whole afternoon flying around the rafters of the shop, waiting for Tank to come back and realise exactly what I'd done to myself,' thought the master mantra maker, looking at a tiny little room, feeling as though it should be more... organised! Though he wasn't quite sure, that might not have been it at all. The sensations he was feeling were unusual to say the least, and with Peter's human body moving, talking and thinking all of its own accord, he just seemed to be a passenger, along for the ride. It was strange though. Then he found himself staring at the boy's reflection in the glass of some kind of cabinet... showing off, trophies of some sort.

  'Ahhh... they must be for the sport she plays that Tank's always harping on about. La, laa, laaaaa. La something, anyway,' he mused as the body he was in started thinking there was something wrong with all the trophies and turned away. All of a sudden, he started to be overwhelmed. In his vision, he could see the young female dragon in her human form, wearing only a handkerchief by the looks of things, apparently searching for something or other. But that wasn't the problem. Flooded by feelings, deep rooted, primal feelings, he felt both dizzy and nauseous at the same time. His head swam, his vision started to fade in and out. This was all so unexpected. It was all he could do to cling on and hope for the best.

  From Peter's point of view, it was all going wrong. Right now, he wished he'd never agreed to do this. It was as if he'd blocked this moment totally from his mind. But every single feeling, the wanting, the longing and the physical feelings for his friend threatened to bubble over. But worse was to come, he knew. While Richie tried to engage Peter in chit chat about his hockey match and he fought off the image of his friend semi-naked, something else popped into his imagination, a love so pure, burning so brightly, that instantly it pushed away all thoughts of his long term friend. JANICE!

  As quickly as they started, the primal feelings halted. But what halted them and brought the old dragon back into the memory, was shocking.

  'A HUMAN!' he thought, as events continued and his mind spun. But there was no time to dwell on that. According to the youngster, what he needed to see was about to happen, and he had to pay careful attention.

  Both watched for all they were worth, one for the first time, one for the second. The moment was astonishing, and if Peter had had any doubt about what he'd told Gee Tee, it was all washed away the instant Richie turned round to go back into her bedroom. There it was, larger than life, almost more impressive than before because he knew what to look for, knew what to expect. It was the most stunning, eye catching and life changing event he thought he was ever likely to experience.

  In what he thought of as a grotesque masquerade of her true beauty, the female dragon turned to go back into one of the other rooms. He was ready; he knew it was about to happen. But to be honest, deep down, he'd never really believed it. Not until that very second. As time slowed, he studied the young dragon's human shaped back. Still showing all the signs of the significant injuries she'd sustained in the bomb blast, in looking on he wondered if the alea had done her any favours at all. It probably had, and she was probably better off alive than dead; still, all that pain, with everything that was to come on top of it. You never really knew, and this from a dragon who cherished life, who'd done everything he could to try and cheat death and more. With the image seared into his memory, along with Peter's overpowering sense of shock, Gee Tee used his mind to negate the mantra, freeing the two of them from its powerful grasp. Gradually the images faded away, replaced slowly by a world coloured terracotta.

  Reliving the shock of the whole thing again, totally disorientated Peter. He had no idea where he was, or even if he was dreaming. All he knew was that his head and the back of his eyes hurt beyond belief, and all his body wanted to do was throw up. But as quickly as it had come, the pain, the pressure and the nausea disappeared, and he found himself back on the floor of the vault, sitting opposite a very shaky and very confused looking Gee Tee.

  The magic had taken its toll. Both friends sat there totally wasted, the old dragon caked in sweat, looking more dishevelled and ruffled than an Ewok in a tumble dryer. Both were breathing heavily.

  Many minutes later, neither had any idea of how long it actually was, for all concept of time seemed forgotten, it was the
shopkeeper who spoke up first.

  "It's hard for me to say this child, and the older I get, the more often I seem to have to say it, but I'm terribly sorry. I should never have doubted you and should have believed what you said from the off. I hope you can understand why I was so hesitant, and why I needed to see it for myself. Please forgive me for not believing in you, and for putting you through that rather... uncomfortable experience."

  'That's an understatement,' he thought, recounting the experience that both of them had just been through.

  "Does that mean that you believe me now?" Peter asked.

  Gee Tee nodded.

  "When you first told me, I found your story beyond belief. But seeing first hand so to speak... I'm convinced that she's the one the prophecy refers to."

  "FANTASTIC!" screamed Peter, jumping to his feet. "All we a have to do is go to the council, you can talk to them, get them to take a look at Richie, and make them see sense. Let's go!"

  Ancient scales in that prehistoric face that had seen and made so much history contorted in sadness and sorrow, about as much as they could. It had been a long time since they'd done so.

  "What is it?" asked the young dragon angrily, getting a sense that all wasn't right.

  Gazing down at the floor, Gee Tee sighed, unable to look his friend in the eyes.

  "It won't work! They'd never believe you, and as soon as I become anything to do with it, you can be damn sure they won't believe it then."

  "But they have to. You said yourself, she's the one. The one the prophecy mentions, the whole reason dragons have been blending in, waiting, guiding, protecting the humans for millennia. She's it!"

  A weary look had set up camp on the master mantra maker's face, but for the lack of tents.

  "I'm truly sorry child. I believe you, I really do. One hundred percent. But the simple fact of the matter is, the council won't."

  Again he opened his mouth to speak, and again the old shopkeeper silenced him with one long, bony finger.

  "Forget about the king... because I know what you're thinking... that he'll believe us and convince them. Remember, by his own admission, he has very little, if any, real power left. Even if he could use it, I doubt he would. You have to understand, your story sounds so far-fetched, it couldn't possibly be true. But it is! You have to trust me on this. In a million years, the council will never believe you, and they won't reverse the decision about your friend. If anything, it might make things worse."

  Peter was angry now. Beetroot red-in-the-face angry.

  "How the hell could it get any worse?"

  "They could take what you say and misinterpret it. Fear of something you don't know or understand isn't confined to humans. Dragons are just the same in that regard. Instead of granting her the human life she led as a dragon, they may consider her dangerous or a threat, and instead decide it's best to keep her down here... incarcerated!"

  Closing his eyes, Peter took a series of big, deep breaths as his friend looked on, very calmly and sedately. Mind racing at the thought of losing his friend, he knew that he had to save her, he just had to. But his hope had been extinguished by the one being he thought might just clinch victory from the jaws of defeat. Hollow was how he felt... empty... a useless husk of a shell, unable to help someone he dearly loved.

  "I know how you feel child."

  "Oh please..." replied the young dragon, done with all of it.

  "No. I mean, I actually know how you feel. About Richie."

  Looking across at the old shopkeeper, an uncomfortable silence developed between them.

  "I'm not sure what the mantra did for you, but for me it was a work of art. I could feel every sensation that you felt. For a brief time... I was you. I know how you feel about your friend, and to say the things I've just said breaks my heart. She's lucky to have someone like you to count on. So is Tank."

  Feeling himself welling up, the master mantra maker's next words soon put a stop to that.

  "But rest assured child, you and I WILL be having a little chat about the human girl in the not so distant future."

  The menace lacing those words was enough to keep Peter's mouth firmly shut. Sitting in silence for a few minutes longer, the old dragon unsteadily got to his feet and announced,

  "I do have one more item to show you before we head back."

  Reluctantly Peter followed the master mantra maker over to a set of shelves carved into the rock. Overflowing, quite literally, with trinkets and valuable of all kinds, his friend started eagerly rummaging through all the items, discarding those in his way on the floor. Precious looking amulets, bracelets and jewellery of all kinds came flying over his shoulder, landing mainly with a tinkle on the hard surface of the vault. Peter's obsession with neatness (almost bordering on OCD) nearly kicked in, but he figured the old shopkeeper would berate him if he started picking stuff up and tidying. Abruptly, something a little larger and considerably heavier than the trinkets crashed onto the rock at his feet.

  'It looks incredibly like a picture frame of some sort,' he thought as he picked it up. It was then that things got off the scale weird. Turning the frame over, believing it to be empty, the sight that greeted him almost made his eyes pop out. There, framed for all to see, was... a certificate, well, more like documentation, signed by the dragon king, pronouncing Gee Tee to be a... LORD!!! His heart raced as the old dragon continued his search.

  'A Lord,' he mused. 'I never even knew dragons had such things.' But there it was right in front of him, the official document, signed by the king, royal seal and all.

  "Ahhh..." cried the master mantra maker, "here it is!"

  Turning to find the most startled look on his young friend's face, it was then that he noticed the frame.

  "Ohhh... that old pish. Forget it. It's not important."

  "But, but, but you were made a... Lord!"

  "You of all dragons," growled the shopkeeper, grabbing the frame and casually tossing it away, "should know that it's not shiny pieces of paper or awards that count, but your actions. If nothing else... remember that!"

  Suitably chastised, he vowed to himself to find out more, any way he could.

  "NOW... where were we? Oh... that's right. I've found it," exclaimed the old dragon, holding up some kind of dull, matt grey, metal band, about the diameter of a human's wrist. Tiny triangular dark indentations, which looked almost bottomless, ran around the entire circumference of the band, with one larger triangle not indented, but ever so slightly raised.

  'That looks unusual,' thought Peter, 'but not worth all the fuss the old dragon's trying to make over it.' Deflated, as that's how he felt about his friend, it was as if all the hope had seeped out of him, like air from a punctured tyre.

  "THIS," started the shopkeeper, "is like nothing else I've ever come across. Probably the rarest thing on the planet is the material, which certainly looks like a metal but has never actually been confirmed as such. It actually makes laminium look positively common in comparison."

  That made the young dragon sit up and take notice.

  "Legend describes it as being made from something that translates roughly as 'Nissix'. And the only Nissix I know that exists on the planet is this," announced the master mantra maker, holding the band up high. "Anyhow," he continued, "it's thought to be hundreds of thousands of years old, and how it was developed or conceived is a complete and utter mystery. But it does have a rather unusual and special purpose."

  With that, Gee Tee stepped forward towards his friend and asked him to hold out his hand which he did, albeit rather nervously. Asking him to spread his fingers as wide as he could, reluctantly he did. Running the band over one of the young dragon's fingers, suddenly... BANG! Instantly the band constricted, changing into a perfectly fitting ring. Peter's mouth hung open in surprise. It didn't hurt. It wasn't too tight. In fact it fitted perfectly, and he could barely feel it at all.

  "It is, as you can see, a ring to fit every dragon, whatever shape or form they may be in. But that's just how you
put it on, not what it actually does. The lore that accompanies the ring tells of dragons being brought back to life after being mortally wounded, their so called consciousness or soul as some thought back then, being safely stored inside the ring while healers used mantras to restore their damaged bodies."

  Peter stood, fascinated, taking it all in, hanging on every last word.

  "How does it work?"

  "There's only a very limited translation to go by, and it was a little sketchy in places. But my understanding is, once the ring is on the dragon's finger, like it is now on you, the larger triangle must be held down for... well, it wasn't entirely clear, but I think somewhere around ten seconds. After that, the dark triangles turn green to start, and then when the consciousness is fully downloaded, they glow blue. How long this takes, I have absolutely no idea. I don't know if it's almost instantaneous, or whether it takes a matter of minutes. It certainly is one of the most unusual and interesting artefacts I've ever come across. Would it work today? Who knows? There would certainly be risks... huge ones if you ask me. But who can say what a dragon about to lose their life would do?" he casually ambled on.

  Peter was giddy with excitement.

  "You know what this means," he started. "We can..."

  Immediately the old shopkeeper held up his palm to stop the young dragon mid sentence.

  "It's time to go now. I'm going over to the plinths on the far side. By running your hand over every one, starting from the bottom and working up to the top, the vault's defences will reset, and we will have a ten minute window to walk or fly back out, before it all once again comes back online."

  By now, he was almost hopping up and down with urgency, desperate to tell the old dragon just how they could put the ring to good use. But the wily old shopkeeper was having none of it.