The Dragon Chronicles

by Ellen Campbell

  After checking to be sure I also had pillows, she said, “I’ll be back shortly with your tea.”

  The children all ran up to my chair and called out, “Storymaster! Tell us a story!”

  “What story should I tell you?” I asked them. Their excitement was a bit contagious and I drew strength from it. A million stories came to my mind, and a thousand heroes leapt for attention.

  They all called out different stories at the same time and I honestly couldn’t understand any of it. “‘David’s Last Ride’ it is, then!” I decided to go with one of my favorites instead of fighting through the cacophony of noise that only a gaggle of children can produce.

  There were some cheers and some “Awwws,” but everyone settled down to hear it. It was one of the more exciting stories, and the little ones especially liked hearing it. Or so I told myself. David held a special place in my heart for many reasons, so I loved to tell about him.

  “David was the last of the truly great dragonmasters. A few lived on after him, but none could match his skill and cunning. His dragon, Lyrroth, was a sleek and wise black dragon. They had many adventures together before and after the war. As you recall, the war almost completely wiped out the dragons, but they still held on for a time. There were perhaps a half dozen or so of them left when David made his last ride. It was a warm morning, sometime in the spring…” I started and then allowed myself to fully slip into the character of David, and for a short while I left my aching body behind…

  * * *

  This would be the last generation of dragons, as there were no breeding pairs left. I couldn’t even think of a single living female dragon. In a few generations we’d just be a legend, and probably a few more after that people would start to doubt that they ever really existed.

  “Good morning, David,” came the deep rumbling voice of the mighty Lyrroth.

  “Morning, old friend,” I said and stretched out. The sun felt good on my obsidian skin as I walked out of our cave. I found Lyrroth lying in the sun. He was a massive beast; twelve grown men could easily lay down head to foot from the tip of his tail to the tip of his snout. His scales were an iridescent black and had a colorful sheen in the morning light. His maw was filled with fangs that could rend an armored man in half with a single bite, and smoke rose from his nostrils as he relaxed in the sun.

  “Did the supply ships come in?” I asked.

  “No, and now they are two days late. I think we’d better go look for them,” he said. There was a great weariness in his voice.

  It was hard to greet each morning and each new adventure with joy like we used to. We had lost so many friends and family members to the war, and the few dragons that were left were slowing dying off.

  “Yeah, I guess we’d better,” I said. It was a bad sign that the supply convoy was late. The towns below us badly needed building materials and other supplies. The island base was practically impregnable, but during the war the farmland was torched, as was much of the forest. It would be years before the humans could support themselves again. Until then, they depended on supplies from the mainland.

  “Where are the others?” I asked.

  “Rhenvaar and Barioth are lounging by their caves. The rest have flown off on other errands.”

  Rhenvaar and Barioth were inseparable twin red dragons. They did everything together, and often that entailed creating havoc. Their riders were also twins, and they went out of their way to dress and act exactly alike. This caused all kinds of confusion, and they enjoyed every minute of it.

  Red dragons were by far the most common of the species, and by far the largest. They were larger and stronger than black dragons like Lyrroth, but they were also slower and less maneuverable in the air. Red dragons had been the bulk of the fighting force at one time, but now only these two remained.

  Before the war, I would have flown this reconnaissance mission alone or with two other black dragons, but there were no other black dragons left. Lyrroth was the last, and no one dared fly alone anymore.

  “Wake them, and let’s get in the air. Hopefully we’ll find the ships sailing peacefully along, but we’d better be ready just in case,” I said.

  He rose to his full height, and I could see the many scars on his hide. We were both old and had both taken many wounds. We’d cheated death more times than I could count, but Father Time was as relentless as he was patient.

  Lyrroth leaped off the cliff and extended his wings for a gentle glide down to where the brothers lay talking. I walked over to watch him fly down and was impressed at the grace he could still show given his age.

  I was sure that it would be dark before we returned and it wouldn’t do to pass out from hunger while in the air, so breakfast was the next order of business. We had hunted recently, and there was still plenty of meat hanging to drain. It made for a fine breakfast roasted over our cooking fire.

  As I finished my meal, Lyrroth returned, landing near me with a gentleness that seemed impossible. Had I been human and not a dragonmaster, the heat that he radiated from his internal furnace would have been at the very least uncomfortable, and likely would have turned my skin red from exposure.

  Dragon fire came from a mixture of iron, oxygen, and aluminum that was ignited by magnesium in their internal furnace before breathing. A dragon had to keep the furnace hot, which meant his blood was constantly carrying heat away from the furnace to his scales. His scales then radiated the heat off to prevent the dragon from burning himself up.

  For me, the heat he radiated was welcoming. It was what friendship felt like.

  Rhenvaar and Barioth were circling overhead with their dragonmasters, obviously itching to get going. They missed the constant action of the war, and were probably hoping we would find trouble out there.

  “They’re ready,” said Lyrroth.

  “Then let’s get airborne,” I said.

  I climbed onto Lyrroth, strapped myself down and focused my mind into his. When dragonmaster and dragon bind, individuality ceases. Each personality, each set of abilities, memories, and everything that makes an individual an individual blends to make one new creature. Mentally, I fell into Lyrroth and we became one. It was only when bound together like this that each of us was complete.

  I, as Lyrroth-David, stretched my wings and leapt into the air, flying between the circling Rhenvaar and Barioth. They roared their greetings as I passed between them. Three dragons and three masters, perfectly blended together.

  “Follow me!” I roared.

  Our den was in a mountain valley, so we had to climb high through the cloud layer to clear the mountains, and then dive fast towards the ocean. I quickly outpaced my slower companions, and the rush of the wind in my face and the sight of the ground racing towards me were exhilarating. No matter how old I got, I never got over the thrill of raw speed. I let myself go. Behind me Rhenvaar and Barioth pushed hard to keep up, but continued to fall behind. I wondered if they enjoyed these high-speed dives as much as I did, but decided they were too slow to understand the joy of raw speed.

  Pulling up at the last moment, just barely clearing the treetops, I roared past the tiny fishing village and over the open sea. Villagers waved their arms and children jumped up and down. I knew they’d be cheering too, but their tiny lungs could never hope to produce enough sound to reach me.

  It was one of the many tiny towns that dotted our domain, and they always enjoyed seeing us in the air. I also enjoyed seeing them, as they reminded me of why we still get up every morning. Villages like the one below counted on us to protect them.

  With the others so far behind, I figured I had a little time for a show. I inhaled deeply and breathed fire while executing a loop that created a massive ring of fire in the sky. I continued looping smaller and smaller loops, forming a spiral of super hot plasma until I had finally exhausted my breath, and then with a wave of my wings headed back on course at a slower speed.

  Rhenvaar and Barioth decided to join in the show as my fiery spiral dissipated. They came in
low and pulled up hard, breathing fire as they twisted around each other, making a great column of fire in the sky. Below us in the village the townsfolk jumped and waved the flag of our nation, obviously enjoying the impromptu show.

  Rhenvaar and Barioth dove down from where they had completed their pillar of flame and came racing up behind me. We headed towards the main shipping route, hoping to find good news about the supply convoy. The rocks made the seaport treacherous, but long ago a channel was cleared with the help of a team of green dragons. If the supply ships were close, they would be in that channel. If they had wrecked, the most likely place would be near the channel on either side.

  I allowed some more of my speed to bleed off, and the two red dragons pulled alongside me. “We should start by following the channel out to the open water,” I called out.

  They roared their agreement, and we flew out low over the water. I wanted to be low enough to spot debris if they had run aground, but there was no sign of them.

  * * *

  Myrill came with my tea right then and I stopped to take a drink. The tea soothed my throat and warded off the coughing fit that I knew would follow without it. I supposed I’d spent too many seasons sitting by the fire, breathing in the smoke while telling stories.

  The youngest of my great-grandchildren, Silverleaf, took advantage of the break to ask, “Storymaster, why didn’t the dragons just carry the supplies?”

  I smiled. He was one of the most inquisitive people I had met. I guess it was his age. I wondered what it was like to be so young and full of hope. It was too far behind me to remember. I guessed I might have been a lot like him at his age. It took an exceptionally inquisitive mind to be a storymaster.

  “They did at one point, but by this time there were too few of them, and they had to stay and help protect the island,” I said.

  I took another swallow of the honey and licorice tea that Myrill always made for me. She said it was good for the throat, but I didn’t really know much about that. What I did know was that it was real easy going down on these cold winter nights.

  “Now, where was I?” I asked. I, of course, knew exactly where I’d left off. My body was failing, but my mind was as sharp as ever. It was just a fun way to see which children were actually listening. Besides, it added to the old and helpless image I had to keep up if I wanted to keep my supply of tea coming.

  “Lyrroth, Rhenvaar and Barioth were flying out over the channel looking for the supply ships,” piped up young Tamerale.

  “Ah yes,” I said and continued the story from where I’d left off.

  * * *

  We flew the entire route of the channel and found no sign of the ships. I hadn’t expected any. Had they run into trouble this close, surely someone would have been able to make it ashore and get word to us.

  “Let’s head higher and spread out. Fly towards the mainland port they came from!” I called out over the noise of the air rushing by.

  They roared and I pulled up, leading them into the sky. They spread out so that we formed a great triangle in the sky and covered a much wider area than any single dragon could have.

  The great raptors that patrolled the sea looking for fish gave us wide berth, silently acknowledging that we were kings of the domain of the air.

  The ocean was rough, but nothing the big ships that carried our supplies couldn’t handle. They were well acquainted with these waters and should have had no problems navigating the conditions.

  We flew for about an hour when Rhenvaar roared that he’d found something. Barioth and I turned to follow him. He had found the supply ships all right, and they were beset with pirates!

  A dozen pirate ships had encircled the supply ships and were pounding them with broadside after broadside. The ironwood sides of the supply ships were starting to splinter under the beating, but lived up to to their name. I doubted they could hold out much longer, but they wouldn’t have to.

  “Attack!” I called out and dove towards the farthest ship with the sun at my back. They wouldn’t see or hear me until it was too late for them. As I closed in on the ship I took a deep breath, fanning my internal fires. These pirates would never again bother supply caravans, that was for certain.

  As I closed in I opened my great maw and breathed white scorching hot flames and saturated the ship with fire. The dry wood of the deck and the cloth of the sails caught flame easily. The fire became a hungry beast with a mind of its own racing throughout the vessel as the men started abandoning ship in panic. Soon the flames reached their kegs of black powder and the explosions ripped through the hull, sending deck hands diving for cover as shrapnel ripped through the air around them. The sloop had taken the full force of my breath, and was nothing more than a brilliant bonfire.

  Rhenvaar swung wide and low and went at two more of the pirate ships at once. Using the advantage of surprise and speed he breathed his flames into the hulls of the ships above the water line and right across the cannon ports. Men screamed as the ship burned and more black powder ignited, sending a rain of debris and body parts everywhere.

  He didn’t even pause in his breathing as he finished his pass on the first ship and began his pass over the second. Fire leapt across the bow of the ship and began its deadly dance through the wooden planks that made up the deck.

  Barioth was the more cautious of the twins and stayed high as he dove through another group of pirates, but that didn’t lessen the fiery fury that he breathed across them.

  In that first pass we left five of the pirate ships in roaring flames. I banked hard and came back for another pass when one of the pirates launched a counter attack. Massive nets flew into the air towards me, attempting to entangle me and send me crashing into the sea, but I’d seen this move many times before and was ready for it.

  I deftly turned my wings up and began beating against my flight path, causing me to stall in place. The nets flew harmlessly past, on a perfect trajectory to where I would have been had I kept flying.

  With a great roar I flipped over and resumed my attack run. The pirates didn’t have enough time to prepare a second set of nets, and they never would, because I unleashed my scorching breath across the mainsail, setting the boom and stern aflame. The pirates dove into the sea, abandoning their ship as the hull became engulfed in flames. Kegs of black powder erupted, throwing debris everywhere.

  Black smoke filled the sky above me as I banked hard to avoid crashing into the ship and headed towards my next target. I needed a few more moments to let my internal furnace get hot enough to produce more fire, but I didn’t let an opportunity pass to take down another target.

  These pirate ships were of the sloop style and weighed almost double my own weight, but that wouldn’t save them. I beat my wings hard and aimed for the broadside of one of the undamaged ships. At the last moment before impact I changed my flight path and smashed my tail into the bow, knocking a large chunk of the ship off, and sending great cracks through the hull. The unforgiving sea rushed into the breach and the ship began to sink.

  The slam forced me to beat my wings hard to regain altitude, and for a brief moment, if the pirates had been the quick sort, I was vulnerable to counter attack. I wasn’t concerned that the pathetic pirates could take advantage of that weakness. They were too busy trying to keep their footing as the ship lurched under the force of the blow, and I climbed safely back into the sky.

  Seven of the thirteen pirate ships were out of the fight, and their crews were swimming for the remaining ships. The supply ships turned away from the fight and were making good time tacking towards safety.

  As I watched, the twins made another pass, deftly avoiding the nets sent their way, and destroyed three more of the pirate ships. With only three ships left, the pirates seemed more intent on fleeing than fighting. Large bonfires marked this battlefield for now, but before long the sea would claim what was left of the ships and there would be no indication the fight ever happened.

  “Let the rest go,” I called out as we regrouped. />
  “Why?” asked Rhenvaar.

  “So that they’ll tell others about what happens when you attack supply ships destined for this harbor,” I said.

  “I doubt they have the sense to stay away. We should finish them off,” said Barioth.

  It would almost be a kinder fate to kill them all, I mused to myself. The three sloops would take on what was left of the crews of the nine lost ships. It would be crowded and miserable. Pirates weren’t known for getting along in the best of times, and this wouldn’t be the best of times, for sure. But honor demanded we let fleeing combatants flee.

  * * *

  “Wait,” said Silverleaf. His little brow furled as he tried to reason out his question. “If it was more merciful to kill them, why would honor dictate they be miserable?”

  I was impressed with this little one’s reasoning. He showed wisdom beyond his seasons.

  “That’s just the rule, and rules are rules,” said Tamerale.

  I smiled. Tamerale wasn’t quite old enough to grasp that there are times when things are not so black and white, but in the end his answer was right.

  “Silverleaf, the rules of honor were intended to bring some civility to combat, and in most cases they did just that, but no rule can be perfect all of the time. It’s up to the honorable warrior to figure out how best to apply them in any given engagement,” I said.

  “But then he should have killed them,” reasoned Silverleaf.

  “Perhaps, and the twins sure would have been happy to, but Lyrroth was in charge and he decided to let them go,” I said.

  Myrill’s husband Nasir said, “Keep in mind, by letting them go he was giving them a chance to improve their life and learn from their mistakes. Perhaps one day they would learn to use their knowledge of the sea to help others, or they might have had children at home waiting for them. If he had killed them, then all the possible futures go away.”

  Nasir’s display of insight let me know my time as storymaster was almost up. Indeed, my time left in this world was nearly complete. I would have to speak with Nasir after story time.