The Kiss From a Dragon

by C. D. Pennington

  Cerana was as anxious as she could ever remember. She could not quite put her finger on it, but something inside her was gnawing away at her, frightening her. Something just did not feel right. She sat on the bed at Esteri’s side, inexplicably wondering if her sweet sister would ever wake up again.

  CHAPTER 2 – “We Need an Apothecary”

  Esteri awoke from her slumber with a soft moan. When her eyes became accustomed to her surroundings, the first thing she saw was Cerana smiling down at her from the side of the bed. “Wha…what happened?” she asked her eldest sister, who had stayed with her all night.

  “Do you not remember?” Cerana replied.

  Esteri sat up and was suddenly aware of a terrible headache that seemed to be engulfing her thoughts. “I remember being in the garden and talking. Maybe laughing?” She grimaced as she rubbed her forehead, trying unsuccessfully to massage her headache better. “Then nothing – just darkness.”

  “Do you remember the nosebleed? The, err, vomit?” Cerana did not want to make her sick again if she could help it.

  “Oh! Yes, I do now.” Esteri was beginning to recall the events of the last evening. She looked around the bed she was in to see if there were any signs of blood, but there were none. “Did I make a mess?”

  Cerana laughed and gently stroked the back of her sister’s head. “A little, but it’s gone now. Nothing for you to worry about.” She smiled at her and leant forward, kissing her forehead. “How are you feeling now?”

  “I have a terrible headache, and my stomach churns.” Esteri realised then how hungry she was. “I must see to breakfast.” She pushed back the blankets, but when she attempted to climb out of bed, her head pounded like a drum, and she quickly stopped her movements.

  “Breakfast? It’s past lunchtime!” laughed Cerana.

  Esteri had been asleep all night and all morning, without so much as a stir. She had slept the sleep of the dead, she thought. She felt half-dead too – it felt as if her brain was hammering at her skull, trying to break out.

  “Oh,” she said. “Then I must see to the chores.”

  Cerana softly took her by the shoulders and eased her back onto the soft mattress and pillows. “You are going nowhere, young lady. Just lay here and relax, I’ll bring you some food if you feel up to it?”

  “I could eat a horse.”

  “Well you’re not eating mine, I need her too much. But I can get you some fish stew and bread if that suits?” Jana had seen to cooking duties last night and again at lunchtime, and they had saved Esteri some stew for when she awoke.

  “That would be lovely, thank you. Oh, my head!” She grimaced again and rubbed her temples.

  “It will pass sweetie. Just try to relax.” Cerana pulled the blanket back over her sister. “I’ll get you some lunch.”

  “She’s awake, and hungry,” Cerana advised Jana as she joined her in the kitchen.

  “That’s a good sign!” Jana was already spooning some hot stew from the large pot into a smaller bowl for her sister. She tore a chunk of bread from the loaf and placed it on top of the stew, then grabbed a wooden spoon from the nearby cabinet and took the meal through to the bedroom.

  Cerana took a long, deep breath and slowly exhaled, closing her eyes and silently thanking the gods for allowing her sister to awaken. Her anxiety had grown the longer Esteri had slept, and try as she might, she could not shake off the overwhelming and inexplicable feeling that something was terribly wrong.

  “Cerana, CERANA!” Jana’s scream from the bedroom jolted her like a shockwave through her entire body. Cerana turned and ran to them. The scene as she entered the bedroom made her heart miss a beat. For an instant, she froze. Esteri was convulsing violently on the bed, blood spraying out of her nose as she thrashed, covering the blankets and bedsheets, some even reaching the walls. Jana was trying to hold her down and getting herself covered with blood in the process. The bowl had dropped to the floor with its contents spilt out over the wooden boards.

  Cerana broke from her trance as Jana screamed again, and she rushed over to help Jana hold down their thrashing sibling. As Esteri threw her head from side to side, blood sprayed over Cerana’s face and neck, and she had to blink some of the red fluid out of her eyes. How could so much blood come out of one person’s nose? Cerana was now terrified, Esteri was groaning loudly with each jerk of her head, and Jana was screaming something unintelligible. Then suddenly, Esteri stopped convulsing and thrashing and lay perfectly still. The rise and fall of her chest as she heavily breathed provided the only sign she was still alive at all. It took Jana and Cerana a second to compose themselves from the shock, only for Jana to realise that even though their sister now lay still, there was further cause for alarm.

  Esteri’s green eyes bulged and stared intently at the ceiling as if she had fixated on some unseen terror above her. The whites of her eyes had turned completely red.

  “We need an apothecary,” Jana said, breaking the temporary silence. “Now.”

  CHAPTER 3 – A Search for Help

  Barnesbay did not have its own medicine man. The nearest apothecary resided in the market town of Otterley, which was north of the village, along the banks of the Tohenas river. Cerana was reluctant to leave Esteri, but Jana agreed to stay with her, and Cerana was the better rider.

  Esteri had not moved a muscle and seemed to be in some form of paralysis, Jana had told her sister when Cerana returned from readying her horse, Winter. Jana could see the worry in Cerana’s eyes and her reluctance to leave. “C, one of us must go, and you can get there faster than me. Go with haste, but ride carefully. Come back to us in one piece. We will be waiting.”

  Cerana knew her sister was right. It would take her only a few hours to travel to Otterley and back, hopefully bringing back with her something that could help their stricken sibling. “I will return as soon as I can. Winter will bring me back to you both with all speed.”

  “Ride safe, sister.” They hugged, and Cerana knelt next to Esteri and took her hand in her own. It was ice-cold, and her wide-eyed, bloodshot gaze remained fixated on the ceiling. She gently kissed the girl’s freezing hand, and spoke to her quietly, as if afraid she may wake her from her trance.

  “Stay with us, my love. I will be back before the sun sets.” She placed her hand back on the bed, yet Esteri remained motionless and unblinking. Cerana gently kissed her on the forehead, Esteri seemingly staring straight through her. As Cerana rose, a single teardrop emerged from the edge of Esteri’s eye and ran down the side of her face. Cerana carefully brushed it away with her finger, her own tears welling in her eyes. Could she possibly be aware? Jana had also seen the tear and was now gently sobbing herself.

  Cerana kissed her cheek. “Look after her. I’ll return soon.”

  Jana nodded, and Cerana took her leave.

  Cerana made her way around the cottage to the stable where she had left Winter, her reins tied to a wooden post. She was a magnificent animal, four years old and as fast as lighting – the quickest horse Cerana had ever ridden. She would need to be, given the importance of their journey. She untied the reins and mounted the graceful chestnut mare, stroking her long, soft neck before softly nudging her side with her boots, the horse dutifully breaking into a trot.

  Cerana wore a laced leather jerkin, and brown leather breeches adorned her legs, laced at the top. Black leather boots fit snuggly to just below her knees, and a woollen cloak waved behind her as she rode, her long, dark-blonde hair flowing over the top of the cloak. She had buckled her dagger around the top of her left thigh, its razor-sharp blade sitting safely in its scabbard. Cerana took the weapon with her wherever she went outside of the village, hoping that she would never have to use it – but grateful for the knowledge it was there if ever she did need it.

  The anxious traveller made steady progress along the banks of the Tohenas river, a narrow pathway leading the way for the horse, who knew this track well. The rush of the river, which Cerana usually found so relaxing, today seemed to be s
creaming at her. The birds - high up in the trees - mocked her as she galloped past. Their shrill chirps cut through her like a knife, laughing at her. An unpleasant smell lingered in the air, its source Cerana could not be sure of, but the odour only seemed to add to the air of darkness and foreboding that was so unusual for this beautiful stretch of the riverbank. She tried to shut out the noises and feelings that enveloped her in this darkest of fashions, however the grave situation only seemed to give life to her increasing fears.

  Cerana had not seen anyone else on the journey as she approached the small wooden bridge that led across the river. However, this was nothing unusual, with their cottage sitting just on the outskirts of Barnesbay and their abode the only one west of the river. The path was used almost exclusively by the Proudstones, as others had no reason to journey this far south. The rest of the villagers traversed the road on the east side, which she now had to join after crossing the bridge. This road she now travelled along would take her straight into the market town of Otterley and to the apothecary.

  As she rode the last leg of the journey, her thoughts drifted back to the tear on Esteri’s young, innocent face. Why, all of a sudden, did it just appear? Could she have heard her voice, in her apparent paralysis? Was she aware of the events taking place around her but was just - for some reason - powerless to react? She hoped that Esteri was not aware of what had happened to her, just laid there on the bed like a statue and unable to move. How awful must it be for her if her mind was active, but her paralysed body would not function? Cerana shuddered at the thought. She needed answers, and speed was of the essence. As the outskirts of the town finally came into view, she spurred Winter on for the last section of the journey - hoping she could find her answers there.

  Otterley was the largest town in Evorene, in terms of both population and area. Although it did not possess the overpowering hustle and bustle of the surrounding cities, it was a thriving market town, where traders would come from miles around to buy and sell their wares. There was nothing one could not obtain from Otterley if one knew where to look. Cerana passed through the main gates of the town, which were modest stone pillars with a wooden sign bearing the town’s name hanging from a connecting chain. There were no guards stationed at these gates; in contrast to the major cities, where at least two occupied each entrance gate. Cerana passed by the smaller abodes in this section of town, each one a wooden structure built on stone foundations. This area was not the most affluent in Otterley, which was evident by the general state of disrepair of the houses, and the litter that adorned the sides of the road. A few of the houses appeared abandoned, as large areas of the wooden walls and roofs were missing or broken; only families of fluttering birds seemed to inhabit them now. Children played up and down the street, and dogs roamed free without any apparent owners. Cerana passed a flock of chickens merrily pecking away at some corn in the grass banks, and the developing smell in the air was also of chicken. It wafted to her nostrils, teasing her, making her stomach rumble as she had not eaten adequately since breakfast. Cerana knew the town relatively well as she and her sisters came here regularly to buy and sometimes sell; however, she had thankfully not ever required the services of an apothecary, so she did not know his location.

  She was nearing the market now, so she stopped by the small stables she had used on previous visits. Two other horses were being tended to by a young stableboy; Cerana gave the boy a silver coin and asked him to feed and water Winter. He gratefully took the payment with a courteous bow and told her that the mare would be well looked after. She had left Winter with him before and had no reason to ever complain about his services, so she left the thirsty horse and walked on foot into the market square to look for the apothecary.

  As she arrived at the main town area, the quieter suburb gave way to a bustling, thriving market square. Traders had set up their stalls in every available space, and she was glad she had left Winter with the boy. Cerana would have struggled to negotiate this area with a horse in tow, such was the throng of traders, customers and browsers she was suddenly presented with. She passed by stalls and carts laden with fresh fruit and vegetables, as well as potatoes and fish of all descriptions. Traders offered cheap linens and leathers, their sellers barking out to anyone that passed, boasting they were the “finest goods in the realm”, and “you won’t find cheaper in town”. Cerana did not doubt the latter; as a tanner herself, she only had to quickly look at the shoddy workmanship to know that the goods would probably fall apart after being worn for a day. She hurried past them; this was no time for shopping.

  Cerana soon realised again how hungry she was, so she purchased a portion of tasty black grapes and a slice of warm, fresh bread. The seller was a friendly young woman of similar age to herself, so she thought. She paid and asked the woman if she knew the whereabouts of the local apothecary. The seller kindly advised that his shop was located past the fish market, after which she should take a left and immediate right. Cerana thanked her and followed her directions, eating her grapes and bread along the way.

  The smell of the fresh fish gave way to the far more pleasant fragrances of incense and candles that burned at the next set of stalls, and following the instructions of the market trader she soon arrived at the doors of the town apothecary. The shop looked small from the outside, and Cerana peered in through the one large window next to the door. The window was filthy, and cobwebs hung from every corner and across the panes, obscuring the contents inside. Cupping her hands to her face and peering in, she managed to see several dusty shelves. The shelves held glass bottles of various shapes and sizes, and each looked like they had not moved for some time. In large letters, the word ‘APOTHECARY’ was emblazoned above the door and window. Cerana supposed that it used to be pure white, but the letters were now a dull shade of cream, the paint cracked and flaking in places. The shop did not look terribly appealing to her, but as far as she knew it was the only apothecary in town, and there was no point going back now. With more than a hint of apprehension, she opened the door and stepped inside, the door groaning like a rusty old gate as she closed it behind her.

  The inside of the apothecary’s shop was no less cluttered and dusty as the windows. Several small wooden benches sat on the floor, covered with vials, bottles and tubes, almost all of them containing different coloured substances. Some of them appeared to be fizzy or boiling, some were brightly coloured and some dull. One of the benches was littered with what looked to Cerana like plant parts. There was a shop counter on the left side of the room which was currently unoccupied but covered with papers and books that looked ages old. Cerana was fascinated. She looked at bookcases as high as the ceiling that were crammed with old books and tomes, some of them so covered with dust and cobwebs that she wondered if they had ever been off the shelves.

  “Good day, ma’am,” the droll voice came from behind her, startling her. “May I be of service?” She turned to meet the owner of the voice, who was a young boy of no more than fourteen, she thought. His dull, toneless voice sounded much older than his years.

  “Hello,” she replied. “I am, err, looking to speak to the owner of the shop? I require an apothecary’s services.” She assumed this boy she was speaking to was not the owner.

  “Of course. One moment please.” He disappeared into an open doorway behind the counter.

  Cerana had never met an apothecary before but had envisaged one to be a wizened old man with small glasses on the end of a long nose, with a balding head and dirty robes. The man that came through the doorway was nothing remotely like what she had imagined. The apothecary was a tall, slim man with a long, kind face. He had dark, curly hair that was short at the back but resembled a bird’s nest on top. He could be no older than thirty, Cerana thought to herself. He did not wear glasses, nor did he don dirty robes. Smiling at her, his small but sharp brown eyes twinkled as he spoke.

  “Hello, miss. My name is Alleran.” He had a soft, gentle voice. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I understand you wish to
speak to me?”

  Cerana smiled back at him, trying unsuccessfully not to appear too worried about her situation. “Pleased to meet you, Alleran. I am Cerana. I have come about my youngest sister, Esteri. She seems to be very ill.”

  “I see,” the apothecary said. “What seems to be the matter with her?”

  Alleran remained silent, listening intently as Cerana described the awful and frightening events of the last day, occasionally nodding his head but otherwise not giving anything away as to his thoughts. He did not speak again until Cerana had finished explaining her sister’s predicament.

  “I see,” he said again. “Please, follow me.” He gestured to the doorway from which he had first emerged. “Darmon, please see to it we are not disturbed.”

  The boy nodded and trotted over to one of the workbenches. Alleran led Cerana through the doorway into the back of the shop.

  “Please excuse the mess,” he began. “My work is not the easiest to keep clean and tidy.”

  Cerana forced a smile but said nothing, her desire for his thoughts on Esteri’s condition weighing heavily on her mind. The back room was even more cluttered than the shop; books and papers piled so precariously high they looked as though they might topple over at any minute. A large bench sat in the corner, crammed with bottles and jars of different contents. A wooden staircase in the opposite corner led up to what Cerana assumed maybe the living quarters.

  “Please, take a seat.” Alleran cleared some books off a chair and beckoned his guest to sit.

  “Thank you, sir,” Cerana obliged.

  “Alleran, please.”