Dragons Shining

by Michael Sperry

  “Why are the animals afraid of me, Baird?” This disturbed Owen more than he let on.

  “Let’s just say they sense a predator in you, Owen. Can’t you feel that deep inside?”

  That did bother Owen. He could deep down in his soul feel something wild and ancient. A powerful something held at bay - by his own fear mostly. But that something wanted OUT. “Yes, how did you know?”

  “A little magic, remember? Here, what is magic but the talent and then the belief and training to go with it? You have the talent, without question. First though, you must understand yourself a little better Owen, and accept what you are. Come here.”

  Owen approached the old man, who put his hands on Owen temples. “Hear me Owen?”

  He tried to jump back but Bard had firm grip on his head. “Yes, I hear you. How is this possible in my mind?”

  “Relax Owen, relax. Let me in.”

  At first, Owen would not. Fear froze his thinking, and closed his mind tightly. But he finally did relax. He sensed that the old man really was his friend. Baird’s tickling presence began peeling back the layers within Owen’s consciousness. What he saw made his heart race and bile rose in his throat as Baird led him deeper and deeper, until the old man became afraid and withdrew.

  Owen turned and threw up in the wash bucket until he had nothing left but dry heaves. After some time he could speak again.

  “I am a Dragon?” “How can that be?” “How, how can that be?” He sat down and began to cry. What else had scared Baird, scared him even worse, a dark, frightening cavern that defied light yet which shimmered with a promise brighter than the sun? And that was not all. He was not only a Dragon, but also a Vampire Dragon, something from a nightmare. But he could not remember ever craving blood. “I like real food!”

  “A Vampire dragon does not need blood, Owen. Most often it draws blood and lets others draw its blood at the same time. This can make itself and those it shares with be stronger. It can feed on the blood of its enemies or prey if need be, and so heal its wounds with blood magic. I did not know you were Vampire, Owen. Believe me though; you are NOT evil, and won't be unless to decide to be."

  “But how can I be a Dragon? I am nothing but a small boy!”

  “Come here by this mirror, Owen. I want to show you something. Here, I will remove the glamour I put on you as a baby.” With that, Owen’s suspicion was confirmed. Baird was the one who had placed him on the farmer’s doorstep.

  Baird muttered a spell, and as Owen looked in the mirror his ears grew longer and pointed. His whole body thinned and grew taller. His face grew thinner and more delicate, and his eyes were large and golden. Through them he could now see the smallest details in the darkest corners of the room’s failing light. He blinked, and gasped. His eyes were huge, slanted, golden and with diamond shaped pupils. Double lids snapped closed one over the other as he blinked. He closed the transparent one, and the light dimmed. His vision was still super sharp, but muted.

  “Put it back, Baird”, he said, shaking.

  A few words, a hand gesture and Owen returned to what he was used to looking at. He could now sense the glamour that had been there all this time. He remembered the spells, too.

  “You will learn to change, Owen, the sooner the better. I mean change into a dragon, not just place a glamour on your Elven body.”

  “If I become a dragon or an elf it will scare everyone. I will be shunned and driven from town, if not killed! I don’t want to be a dragon!” He tried to turn and flee, but the old man was very strong.

  “I know that, Owen. We must stay in hiding. Keep up the disguise as long as we can. But know this. You are what the Maker has made you, for a compelling reason. Do you hear me?”

  Owen stopped struggling and said, “What the Maker has made me? Who are my real parents, Baird?”

  Baird sighed. “You and others like you are to be our saviors, Owen. The host of white Angels has given you to us. These Angels obey the Maker’s will in all things, at all times. I was not told who your parents are, when the Angel handed you to me. After looking in your mind I can say for certain that your mother is pure Vampire. Pure Vampire blood can only come from one source. I must do some research to be certain before I name her. There has not been a new Vampire Dragon in over ten thousand years. The only two left are so old and decrepit they can hardly fly. And those could not ever take Elven form like you can. But you are too young as yet. I am sorry to break this too you so soon, but we are hunted always. I could not wait for you to discover this on your own. Those who would kill us because we are a threat to them hunt us. It is they who we must eventually destroy.”

  “What others? Who do we threaten? I am only a kid!”

  “There were fourteen given to us by the Angels. They are certainly half Elf, half Dwarf and half Human. The other half is Angel, once dragon, I believe. You and one other are different still. The others are all your age and just learning what they must prepare for, to battle the dark things being bred in dark places and deep below ground.”

  Baird did not wish to give Owen the whole truth just yet. He would not mention Briana for a while yet, or give his mother’s name. He had not heard from Salece in some time. That was the price of going dark and hiding here in the tiny town of Fable’s Arch. “I still do not know who was Owen’s father, because of that dangerous block in the boys mind”, he thought. Vaness, the boy's mother, had supposedly sworn off having offspring after so many monstrous failures, and he wondered who or what could possibly have convinced that immortal creature otherwise.

  “Will I meet the others soon?” asked Owen.

  “Not yet. It is not safe”.

  “How old are you, Baird? You know so many things.”

  That caught Baird by surprise. “That’s none of your business, young man. Let’s just say I knew those two dying old vampire dragons in their youth. Come; let me teach you the calming spell. And tomorrow Dafford will begin your other lessons. The fire spell will be next, and many more after that. Dafford will make a great swordsman out of you, among other things. You have much to learn.”

  After Owen had left for home that day, Baird pondered what he had learned. Prior to this he had not reached into the boy’s mind, concerned that he might cause more harm than good. He had waited until Owen’s mind seemed strong enough, not wanting to repeat mistakes he barely remembered, with students of the past. Not remembering the details of how or why, he knew the limits that should not be ignored. “I have known many wizards and sorcerers. Few indeed have survived their own failings. Bad luck, haste, procrastination, greed, hate, jealousy, misplaced love, paralyzing fear, lack of confidence, or an excess thereof, laziness; all these and more have been the cause of early demise and failure. Only bad luck is incurable, yet proper care and preparation brings a good measure of luck in my experience. I will make certain that Owen is as prepared as he can be for what comes. Even the immense power I sense latent in the boy is no guarantee, if one or more of the possible failings causes this power to be unused or abused.”

  Elsie stomped and nearly kicked over the bucket. Owen calmed her again, coming out of his reverie. He finished milking her and brought the milk down into the deep cooling shelter where it would stay until needed. The cellar was cut with switchbacks deep into bedrock. The temperature never changed down there, and it was packed with winter ice as well, much of which lasted through the summer. It was discovered years after the farm was first created, long ago, a product of some earlier age.

  Next he disturbed the hens long enough to get the hot eggs out from under them and pack them into cartons for pickup later in the day.

  He fetched the big thoroughbred Softy from his stall and was moving him to a temporary stall when the horse reared, broke free from him and ran toward the barn door. Owen turned to see a large serpent striking for his face. His hand was a blur as he caught the big snake behind his fanged head and held on for dear life. It was a big snake, six feet or more, and strong. Its tail was coiled around the stall post.
Something tore free from the binding that held it so tightly deep within him, and Owen stretched and roared. His clothes shredded as his body changed. The glamour shattered, and a young red and white Dragon stood in his place. Softy reared and pounded his hooves against the closed barn door, and the other animals went crazy in their stalls. Owen held the snake with his front talons and ripped it from the post, consuming it live except for its head. He entered the stall and curled into its corner, shaking, as his dragon form folded back into elf. It was a while before he managed to place the glamour back on, and fetch new clothes from the house. He barely had time to calm the animals and muck the stalls before Paw and Tom showed up with the big wagon full of corn and the six plow horses that pulled it. The twelve pickers came pulling the second corn wagon and left it near the first. Both the men and the horses were equipped with snake gators, and he could see venom dripping from one of the horses. The pickers were collecting their pay from Father, as Tom, his seventeen-year-old brother, strode to meet Owen.

  “Hey Owen, Paw says come and get the horses. You ate already, I hope?”

  “Yes, I did”, he said with a frown. “Ok I’ll take care of them. You want to practice swords later?”

  “Sure, if you think you can handle it.” Actually Tom was amazed at how well the little guy could fight, using either hand. He would spar with Owen a while, then go visit Suzy over at the Powel farm. She had invited him over for dinner. Maybe he could talk her into an evening ride or another roll in the hay. He was gong to have to marry her soon, he knew. There was plenty of room in the house, and his parents would be glad to have her until he could build another one.

  As Owen unhitched the plow horses, and was bringing them to the fence to wait for cleaning, Sophie and Mom showed up with the wagon team. So he had eight horses to tend now.

  ”The work is never done on this farm, is it Justin?” It was Paw who had walked over to say hello.

  “Awe, I don’t mind it, Paw. You know that. It beats being an orphan in Windhaven I bet!”

  “Don’t think about that, son. Not that we would ever let you go, but from what I figure you would always have a good home somewhere. There are people in high places looking out for your welfare, so I figure your real parents might have been killed but in high favor at court, if not Royals. They might have died in the King’s service. You know our Kings have always respected that. None of that matters though, cause we gotcha and we love you twice as much!”

  With that he gave Owen a bear hug, and headed toward the house for some food.

  Sophie ran over to him with a smile. “Look what I found”, she said beaming. She held out a small chocolate bar, but snatched it back as he reached for it. “Gotta help me with Softy, you promise?” She was quite fetching with that smile. They would have to watch her with those boyfriends she kept bringing around.

  He would have taken her riding without a bribe, of course. “Sure Sophie, but let me take care of these horses first.”

  “Ok, here you can have it. Come get me when you are done.”

  “Umm, this chocolate is delicious”.

  After he sponged the horses down, he put fresh, dry hay in each stall feeder while they dried off in the sun. When he had them secured in their stalls and after he had cleaned up around the wash stalls, he saddled Softy and his large and muscled, roan saddle horse, Gander. Gander was almost three years old, and had just started in the competition ring with Justin. His legs and knees had formed up hard and strong. He mounted Gander and rode him over to the house with Softy in tow. “Come on Sophie let’s go”, he called. “I hope you don’t mind that I smell like the horses now.”

  She came running out with her hair in pigtails and jodhpurs on, with riding boots. “Pew, just stay behind me”, she said laughing. Owen helped her onto the big, eighteen hand thoroughbred, and off they went for an afternoon romp. They jumped over the fence rather than opening the gate, and could hear Mom fussing from the porch, something about “.... Taking stupid chances”.

  Sophie was a terrific good rider, but there was no way they would let her ride by herself. Why they thought he could defend her was beyond him. Of course she could fall, and he would be there for that. Owen did have the sense to carry his bow at least. It was small and not military, yet he had killed a deer with it last month. The arrow had passed clean through, so Owen figured it would work on a highwayman just as well.

  As they were riding, she said, ”Owen, I saw Heath in town. He wants you and Tom to ride with his team tomorrow morning.” She and Heath were dating heavily. Both were sixteen and very good looking. “Actually those two would be good for each other. She could do worse”, he thought. He admired Heath, and so did Tom and even Paw. Mom thought he was “very cute”.

  Toroid was a team sport he enjoyed very much and was quite good at. His friend Heath was the best, though. The riders used poles with a hook and guard near the end to fetch a toroid ring from the center post and keep it aloft on the hook while traversing an obstacle course to place the ring on a post at one end of the field. The ring could be snatched by an opposing rider’s pole and brought to their end post instead, or a rider could be knocked from his horse. Or the ring could be spun and sent flying, hopefully caught by another team member. Both the riders and horses rode lightly armored with Great Chitabion feathered bone plates. These giant predator bird bone plates would not protect against a strong arm with an axe or a sword, yet provided fine protection in contact sports. The game took excellent balance, endurance, horsemanship, a good horse and above all, agility. Except for a couple of them, the older men were not agile enough for this sport. It was an honor to be asked onto Heath’s team once again. They would be playing against the town of West March in the region semi-finals. Father’s farm was closer to Fable’s Arch, and Heath’s father’s blacksmith forge was in the town proper. Heath was tall and strong, just like his father, and he could ride like no one else in the region of West Valley. Baird saw no problem with Owen competing. As long as their disguise held, Owen being in the Rings limelight would be ok. It would be more unusual for a healthy young athlete like Owen not to compete. That would draw more unwanted attention. The glamour spells Baird had given him were very strong indeed. Even other mages could not penetrate them, or even detect them, or so Owen thought. Owen had come to understand that Baird was a major wizard, perhaps the eldest and strongest of all. Baird cautioned him to not use other magic while competing. It would be a dead giveaway. But then Owen would not have anyway. It did not seem the right thing to do.

  “I will have to get up early and feed the pigs before I go”, said Owen.

  “You want me to wake you up?”

  “No thanks Sophie, I’ll manage”. He was a heavy sleeper after a hard day on the farm. Last time she had tried to wake him; she finally lost her temper and dumped a bucket of water on him.

  After their ride, Owen sparred with his brother using wooden swords. When Daffor was training him in the woods behind the schoolyard, he used a real hand and a half sword with a magical guard on the blade. He dared not show that to Tom. Daffor was a master swordsman. Baird had told Owen that Daffor was an Elite Royal Guard assigned to train him, incognito. Owen figured that meant the King was in on this; so there was even more reason to try as hard as he could.

  Owen could not out power Tom and did not have his reach, yet his skill was already advanced far beyond his age with a hand and a half sword.

  Tom swung hard and Owen’s arm was shocked as he blocked with his sword in his left hand, and then blocked the kick Tom aimed at his chest, with his right arm. Owen was forced back, yet recovered quickly as Tom pressed in. Tom thrust and Owen deflected with his sword to Tom’s weak side, and then aimed a light kick that hit Tom’s shin from the outside instead of his knee. They spun this way and that trying to get the other off balance. Owen kept his sword in both hands and knocked Tom’s thrust aside, and then he thrust on his own while releasing his left hand so he could twist and drive the sword forward with the other. He would h
ave hit Tom in the center of his chest if his arms were longer, yet Tom spun and shoved Owen sideways, dropping his sword in the process. Tom barely got the sword back in hand by rolling head over heals and coming up with it to block Owens strong slash that broke Tom's wooden sword at the guard. Tom was dumbfounded, yet he knew that Owen had aimed for the sword, not his head.

  Tom asked, “Where have you been practicing, Owen? Someone has been teaching you and teaching you well. So what have you been doing so late, after school?” he asked pointedly. He was favoring the shin that Owen had managed to kick. Owen had pulled that kick, he knew. Tom trusted his brother very much because he never seemed to want to really hurt anybody or any animal either. “He hunts though, so I bet he will kill if he must”, thought Tom.

  “Baird has been teaching me other languages”.

  “If that’s the way you want it, don’t tell me then. You know I will be riding with you tomorrow, on the town team? So I will help with the pigs in the morning early. We got all of the corn today, and Old Pug is coming by to get it. He bought the whole lot for his mill and his market. The cotton is not quite ready yet, nor the wheat, so we have some time.”