The Kiss From a Dragon

by C. D. Pennington

  Jana and Cerana watched in horror as the flames engulfed the top of the plinth – including the magical sphere that contained their younger sibling. Nothing could be seen of Esteri, Moriallaj or Varros except the massive jet of flames that escaped the mouth of the black dragon. Finally, she closed her enormous jaw, and the flames subsided.

  The sisters watched on, stunned at the events unfolding around them. Sheer relief at the demise of Morillaj quickly gave way to horror. Nothing could have survived the fiery blast.

  Esteri…..

  But shortly after they had retracted, the flames and subsequent smoke dispersed, revealing the most welcome of sights to the shocked sisters – Esteri, safely encased in her protective bubble, as perfect and pure as ever. Not even the flames of Dramilath could penetrate the spell, which somehow lingered even after the incineration of the mage.

  The relief of Esteri’s survival washed over Cerana like a waterfall of emotion, and she slumped down to the ground, a broad smile appearing on her battered face.

  Shortly afterwards, the tiny frame of Varros unfurled from underneath Esteri’s long hair. The resourceful goblin survived the blast by cowering in the magical sphere as his former master burned. He looked all around the massive cavern, but when his groggy gaze caught the sight of Dramilath’s huge head jutting out of the wall, he fainted and crashed back to the ground.

  Struggling to comprehend the events that had just unfolded before her eyes, an exhausted Cerana tried to make sense of what had just taken place. Exhausted, battered and bruised, she knew her mind would not be working to full capacity, but still, the enormity of it all overwhelmed her. But first and foremost, she needed to get to Esteri. It was her sister she had come here for, above all else.

  She attempted to rise, but her body refused to obey, and she groaned wearily. Looking over to the wall that Dramilath had all but destroyed, she was surprised to see the enormous dragon’s head was no longer there. Dust floated eerily from the gaping hole in the cavern, creating a mass of fog. Rocks and debris littered the wide ledge in front of the opening. Cerana watched on in wonder as a tall, elegant woman with long silver hair and a flowing cloak strode through the haze towards them.

  As if her mother’s very presence had infused her with life once more, Coviche stirred and sat herself up, groaning loudly.

  She was alive. They were all alive.

  Another broad smile spread across Cerana’s face as her leaden eyelids refused to stay open any longer.

  CHAPTER 56 - The Saviours of Evorene

  Cerana had no idea how long she had been unconscious, but as she opened her eyes, the pleasant face of Coviche smiled down at her. She tried to move but pain coursed through her body and she groaned loudly. She lay flat on the ground, staring up at the cavern ceiling.

  “Stay still,” Coviche said softly.

  “Jana…” croaked Cerana.

  “I’m here, C.” Her sister came into view, her face dirty and bruised but still managing a smile.

  “ESTERI!” Cerana’s senses were returning and recollecting what had happened. She jolted, but the pain was too great. “Owwwwww!” she cried as she gingerly lay back down.

  “My mother is tending her, Cerana Proudstone. She is alive, fear not,” Coviche advised.

  “Wha…what happened?”

  “We did it, C. We won,” Jana advised.

  “Yes, we did,” Coviche agreed. “With a lot of thanks to this little one, here.” She stepped aside, and from behind her long silk dress, the goblin Varros slowly and nervously appeared.

  “Mistress does not look well,” he nervously said.

  Cerana could not help but laugh, but the pain in her ribs forced her to stop. “Varros, I don’t…..why?.....why did you…..?”

  “It was Varros who destroyed the dragonstone, Cerana Proudstone,” Coviche said. “He released us, and saved us all by bravely confronting Moriallaj when he did.”

  Varros crept behind Coviche’s leg again. The goblin felt humbled but still wary.

  “But why?” Try as she might, Cerana could not see how this change in the goblin was possible. After all, it was not that long ago he had tried to kill her.

  Varros cautiously crept out from behind Coviche’s dress. “Varros never liked Mori,” the small goblin squeaked. “Nasty mage made I do naughty things. I is your humble slave now.”

  “You are a slave to no-one, Varros,” Cerana said, although still perplexed. “But tell me this – why did you leave me in the dark as soon as we entered the mountain? And then on the bridge?”

  “Varros sorry, mistress. Varros forgot mistress cannot see well in the dark, not like me. I can see so well, didn’t think. When I came back for you, you had felled in the hole. Couldn’t get you no more.”

  “Okay,” Cerana was still unsure. “So what about the bridge, when I was attacked?”

  “If they had thought I was helping mistress, they would have killed Varros too!” he squealed. That point, Cerana could see the logic in. Varros continued, “I had to make like you was not with Varros.”

  There was no denying it; the goblin had saved her from being killed by Moriallaj when he throttled the mage. Dramilath’s intervention eventually counted for the mage, but if Varros had not done what he had, it was likely that Dramilath would have been the only one left alive. And apparently, it was he who had destroyed the dragonstone, without which they would probably all be dead now. But that itself raised another question for Cerana.

  “So the crystal we removed from the other chamber,” she said, referring to the glowing purple artefact. “The one we threw in the lava. What was that if not this stone?”

  “It was the mage’s diving stone, Cerana Proudstone,” Coviche answered. “The source of his exaggerated power. That is why he was so keen to save it - his power would have been much less without it.”

  It was all starting to make sense. “Varros, I owe you my life. As probably we all do. You have my eternal thanks,” Cerana said, truly humbled.

  “Mistress is welcome,” said the goblin. “Mistress kind to Varros, Varros be kind to mistress.”

  Satisfied at last, Cerana’s attentions now turned to her youngest sibling. “I must go to Esteri. Let me see my sister.”

  “Very well,” Coviche said. “But first, I must offer you my thanks. You saved my life by diverting that beam. I am forever in your debt.” Coviche gracefully bowed to her.

  “Let’s just say we’re even,” Cerana said, smirking.

  Coviche laughed aloud. “Fine by me, Cerana.”

  This time, Cerana laughed aloud, but the pain in her chest quickly made her stop.

  As painful as it was to rise, Cerana rose - albeit with the combined help of Jana and Coviche on either side of her. Coviche appeared to have made a miraculous recovery, showing no signs of the trauma she had just been through. Jana too appeared relatively unhurt, much to Cerana’s relief.

  As she recovered her bearings, Cerana realised they were no longer in the furnace-like cavern they had battled in. She must have been carried out whilst unconscious, as she recognised the room they were now in to be where Dramilath had been chained. Huge links of broken chain, massive bolts and enormous metal braces littered the large room that had until recently held captive a dragon - the same dragon who now tended to her sister.

  In human form, Dramilath of the black dragonflight was equally as impressive as her daughter. The resemblance in the face between mother and daughter was uncanny, although Dramilath’s advanced years could well be seen. She had huge, dreamy eyes and long silver hair adorned with a gold hairpiece that resembled a crown. She wore a long silk robe, similar in style to Coviche’s, although Dramilath’s was jet black with beautiful dark red inscriptions and patterns. She looked every bit a leader, even if she was the last of her flight. Cerana remembered her as the vision she saw emerging from the destroyed wall after the dragon had killed Moriallaj, before Cerana had passed out.

  She smiled kindly at Cerana as she hobbled towards her. “The savi
our of Evorene,” Dramilath said in a sweet voice. “You have the thanks of the dragons, Cerana Proudstone.” She had a smile as welcoming as that of her daughter.

  Cerana did not feel worthy of such praise. “I think it is me that should be thanking you,” she said. She then saw Esteri up close for the first time since she set out to search for Jana.

  The protective bubble that had saved the youngest Proudstone from Dramilath’s flames had gone, and she lay flat on the ground, covered from neck to foot in Dramilath’s long crimson cloak. Eyes closed, she looked asleep and peaceful. Tears welled in Cerana’s eyes as she looked upon her sister’s beautiful face once more. Strands of her long blonde hair fell upon her chest, which softly rose and fell under the thick cloak.

  “Is she…” Cerana could not bring herself to finish her question.

  Dramilath answered for her. “She’ll be fine. But we only just got to her in time. A few more days, and I fear we would have lost her.”

  Cerana was shocked. “But I thought the mage had already cured her?” She referred to Moriallaj’s statement that his antidote had been successful.

  “No, Cerana. Moriallaj only thought he had cured her. The ephylaxon still ails this one. But worry not.” Dramilath flashed that infectious smile in an attempt to ease Cerana’s visible worry.

  “I don’t understand,” Cerana croaked.

  “Very few do, Cerana Proudstone,” Coviche softly said to her.

  “Indeed.” Dramilath continued the explanation. “Esteri is showing the final stage of the disease. The victim appears to return to normal and shows no further signs of being infected, save for exhaustion. The symptoms seem to disappear, but in reality, the disease is now progressing. That is why Moriallaj thought he had produced a cure, as his tests would suggest that she was cured. But what he did not know is that Esteri would have died. There is no cure that man nor goblin can recreate, Cerana.”

  “But Alleran - the books said it could be cured!” Cerana cried. She began to shake.

  “Please, worry not.” Dramilath placed a huge hand on Cerana’s shoulder. “But the ancient books are wrong. Esteri would have died within a few days, and if Moriallaj had gone ahead and mass-infected the entire realm, it would have been wiped out altogether. He did not have the cure he thought he had. The king would have been forced to give in to his demands and surrender, but the mage would have had no-one to rule. Everyone would have died.”

  “But you can -”

  “Yes,” Dramilath interrupted her again, as if reading her thoughts. “I can cure her, but not in the way you probably are expecting.” Dramilath walked over to Esteri and gently stroked her hair away from her forehead. “Ephylaxon is known as the kiss from a dragon, as you may be aware. But not for how it is transmitted. It is so-called for how it is cured.”

  Cerana and Jana listened in astonishment as Dramilath continued.

  “What is true is the requirement of a dragon, one who is able to breathe fire. But the ancient texts suggest that is because of an ingredient found in our fire glands. This is not the case. My daughter and I are the last remaining dragons in the world. But even when dragons did rule the lands, very few had our unique, magical ability – to be able to assume human form. It is this that forms the cure, Cerana. Esteri needs a kiss from a dragon. But as a human, not a dragon. Watch.”

  The sisters stood open-mouthed at the revelation. Even Coviche could not quite believe what she had just heard, Cerana realising that even she did not know of this.

  Dramilath knelt before the sleeping girl and lowered herself down until she was mere inches from Esteri’s face. Then, she closed her eyes and began to recite ancient words. So silently she whispered, the others could not hear. Esteri still did not so much as twitch. But as Dramilath finished her words, she once again opened her mouth. But this time, no words came out. The fascinated women watched on in amazement as a light shone from Dramilath’s open mouth, directly to Esteri’s still-closed lips. Tiny orbs flickered and danced in the light, and Esteri’s lips began to open. As they did, the light passed into her open mouth, followed by the dancing orbs. Finally, Dramilath closed her mouth, and the light ceased.

  The sisters clung to each other as Esteri’s mouth closed too, and her eyes slowly opened.

  Jana and Cerana held their breath.

  After what seemed like an age, Esteri blinked, and looked deep into Dramilath’s eyes, who still stooped over her. “I know your face,” she said, lifting her index finger and gently stroking Dramilath’s cheek. “But I do not know you. You came to me in a dream. Am I still dreaming?”

  “No, child. You are not dreaming. Look.” Dramilath rose from her crouch, revealing Jana and Cerana behind her.

  Esteri’s emerald green eyes widened and sparkled. “Oh my,” she said, mouth agape. “C? J? Is it really you?”

  Her sisters - unable to hold their tears of pure joy - ran to her and hugged her close. Once again, the sisters of Barnesbay embraced as one.

  “I thought I’d never see you again,” wept Jana.

  “We thought we’d lost you, E,” Cerana admitted, wiping a tear from her eye.

  They sat Esteri up, and she rose to her feet, still draped in Dramilath’s crimson cloak. It was so long, it trailed on the ground behind her. “Where am I?” Esteri asked, looking at her unfamiliar surroundings with bewilderment. “Can we go home now?”

  Cerana laughed, fighting back the tears of sheer relief. “Yes, my love. We can go home now.”

  As the sisters embraced, so too did the reunited dragon family. “You saved me, my child,” Dramilath said to her daughter, cupping her face in her hands and kissing her forehead.

  “You are all I have left, mother. I would have gone to the ends of the earth to find you if it came to it.”

  “We are together again now. And this time, nothing will part us.”

  Varros kept out of the way as the two groups of women became reunited. He observed the humans as they cried and hugged and kissed, and realised he would never understand their race one little bit. But he liked them. They were kind to him, and now they were calling him a hero and saying he saved all their lives. Varros did not see it that way; he just saw it as his job to his new mistress. But he was certainly glad to be rid of the nasty mage. He hoped that mistress Cerana would keep him. That would be nice, he thought.

  And so with Varros’ help, the six weary party members made their way out of the lava-filled mountain. Unbeknown to all of the women, there was a far more straightforward way of getting out than getting in, and they did not have to cross any bridges or traverse any dangerous cliff faces, much to their combined relief. Varros showed them the way, and when they eventually emerged from the mountain and the magical doorway closed behind them, Coviche turned to their newfound goblin friend. “Varros, give me your band.”

  He looked puzzled, but he obeyed. Removing the innocuous-looking band from his thin wrist, he handed it to the huge woman.

  “Thank you. I think I will look after that now,” she said. “No-one should ever need to enter that place again. I will make sure of it.”

  Dramilath nodded in agreement. “What happened in there should stay between us all here now. No-one else need know of Moriallaj or his plan.”

  “What if there are others on the outside, like Blackwood?” Cerana asked.

  “With Moriallaj dead, and no way to enter that mountain, any that may be lurking in the cities will keep themselves hidden now. Moriallaj was the kingpin, make no mistake of that. Without him, this battle is over.”

  Dramilath spoke sense, Cerana thought. Without their leader, the pawns would be lost; that is if any were remaining on the outside. Cerana doubted it, but did not feel afraid if there were more. They would not rise without their leader.

  “And now it is time for us to part, my friends,” Dramilath said with a heavy heart. “Darkness is about to fall, which will make our journey all the easier.”

  Cerana found herself shocked that the dragons would take their leave so sudde
nly, but when she realised there was no reason for them not to, her own heart felt heavy. “Will we ever see you again?” she asked.

  “You know where we live, Cerana Proudstone.” Coviche smiled at her as she spoke. “It is probably best that you come to us. I think we would look a little out of place in your world. But you are always welcome.”

  “Yes, indeed you are,” Dramilath agreed.

  Tears welling again, Cerana hugged Coviche as hard as she could. “I can never thank you enough,” she said to the taller woman. “Without you, we would never have found Esteri alive.” Jana joined the hug, closely followed by Esteri.

  “Until we meet again, friends of the dragons.” A solitary tear ran down Coviche’s cheek.

  The sisters then embraced Dramilath and said their goodbyes. “Farewell, my human friends. Be sure to visit us soon. Come, Varros.”

  The goblin looked stunned, his small head turning between Cerana and Dramilath.

  “The human world is no place for a goblin, little one. Come with us, we will look after you now,” Dramilath said.

  “You is new mistress?” the goblin asked.

  “No, Varros. You are a slave to no-one any longer. Come live with us in peace.”

  Cerana completely forgotten about, Varros skipped over to Dramilath and started dancing around her legs. All five women laughed in unison.

  The two huge women and one tiny goblin took their leave, heading for the woods as the three sisters waved them goodbye. But Cerana knew they would soon meet again. She would make sure of it.

  How long they had been inside that mountain for, Cerana did not know. But as she took lungfuls of fresh, pure air once more, life suddenly took on a new meaning for Cerana Proudstone. She felt free from guilt for the first time since her childhood, and had reunited her family under the most extreme of circumstances. She made a silent vow to herself never to let anything come between her family ever again, so long as she still drew breath. This was her family, and they were finally going home.