by Sam Ferguson
“I pleaded with him not to leave. There is a special grove here that filters the curse out. He would not heed my warning. He said it was better for him to live on the mainland, at the southern border of the Middle Kingdom. He took his mate, and they had one final egg. Shortly thereafter, Pendriad succumbed to the curse and went mad. It was Liloriel and I who killed him. I trust you will forgive me if I do not show you that part of my life in the Pools of Fate. I hope it will suffice to show you what I have already shown.”
“But how can I be sure what you show me is not a trick?” Kyra asked.
Njar sighed deeply and shook his head. “If you wish to see, then I will show you, but I will not watch it with you.” The satyr walked toward her and gently placed his palm upon her forehead.
Instantly she was snatched from the plane of the living to some sort of astral realm. It was dark all about her and she saw nothing but blackness. Suddenly a light formed around her and she found herself in the satyr’s village, but not in the current time. She watched as the male dragon the satyr had spoken of hatched in the village. His arrival was marked with a great celebration and feasting that lasted for days.
She watched the dragon grow and wizen as years, decades, centuries, and finally eons passed. She felt the bond between Pendriad and the satyrs of the village. Next she watched the battle at Hamath Valley. Dragons and men whirled about her as blood and fire flowed over the ground. It was a brief glimpse at the horrendous slaughter, as if she was living the entire episode in only a matter of moments, but she could still feel emphatic cheers of victory when Nagar fell and found herself caught up among a throng of warriors, and saw as they did how Tu’luh the Red, a great and terrible dragon, was destroyed.
That feeling of joy and excitement was ripped from her when the first of the good dragons fell victim to the curse. The realization that Nagar’s Blight lived on swept through the land like a disease. Many dragons fled, flying to the north, never to be seen again. Lesser dragons fell to the curse rapidly, as if some horrible plague spread through the dragon kind. Greater dragons helped the soldiers of men put down the crazed, demented beasts. A few wizards gave the mad dragons a new name to separate them from their wiser kin. They called them nightwings. Kyra watched in horror as dragons fell victim to the curse by the dozens. Some nightwings escaped far to the south, but most were killed by the greater dragons.
Then, as the stronger dragons began to fall victim to the curse as well, the armies of men formed a corps of specialized fighters, the dragon slayers. These men were exceptional fighters, and they wore ridged and spiked armor made of Telarian steel, a black metal strong enough to survive the dragon’s flame. The battles were fierce and the dragons were hunted nearly to extinction.
Kyra cried as she watched the dragon folk destroyed at the hands of men. The final two dragons were Pendriad and Liloriel. She watched, hoping that somehow their fates would change. She watched as the pair of dragons tried to outrun the curse. They moved from city to city, always going farther to the south. Finally the male succumbed to the horrible magic. Liloriel defended the village from her mate. As Njar had said, he was there too, along with many other satyr warriors. Several of them were killed by the demented male dragon, but in the end, Njar and Liloriel killed Pendriad. Afterward, Liloriel moved as far south as she could without being discovered by the dragon slayer camps near Ten Forts.
Kyra had already watched the rest in the pools of fate, but she relived the experience now with more detail and a more intimate understanding. When the female dragon, in her desperate, half-crazed state laid the egg in the nest, Kyra did not feel threatened by the new dragon. Instead, she felt only more sure that she was doing the right thing advocating for the egg. She moved forward in the astral plane and stretched out her hand toward the female dragon.
“I will protect him,” Kyra said.
Liloriel turned and looked right at Kyra. The dragon stretched forth her neck so that her snout just grazed Kyra’s fingertips. Kyra’s breath caught in her throat. She had moved and spoken as a result of the strong connection she felt with the egg, but she had not expected that she could actually interact with the vision in any way. As the dragon touched her, Kyra felt a surge of power run through her. The female dragon turned her head so that her right eye stared directly into Kyra’s face.
“Save us,” the dragon pleaded. Then she flew off. Kyra expected to finish the history, but instead she found herself standing in the rocky nest where the egg lay. She watched the sun rise and set over the rocky nest. After a while the small lizard that she had named Guardian came out from its tunnel and began its watch over the egg. She smiled at seeing him again. His little, agile body leaping over the rocks as he hunted crickets.
A sadness came over her then as she realized that she would not see Guardian again, for she had buried him after that peculiar creature had attacked the egg.
Kyra felt herself pulled backward, almost as if she was falling over a precipice. Within an instant she was standing before the satyr again and all around her was as it had been before Njar had given her the vision.
“How did you do that?” the satyr asked.
“How did I do what?” Kyra replied.
The satyr shook his head, rubbing the space between his horns with his left hand and scratching his right ear with the tip of his staff.
“You reached through the vision and talked with Liloriel. You even touched her. How did you do that?”
“I’m not sure. Am I not supposed to be able to do that?”
Njar reached out with his left hand and grabbed her shoulder.
“Of course not! You reached through a vision and changed the past. She never saw anyone after she laid the egg. And I have never seen you interact with her before. What you just did is impossible.” Njar released her and turned to the Pools of Fate. “I need some time to figure this out.”
Kyra stepped beside him. “Let me keep the egg.”
The satyr looked at her and shook his head emphatically. “Out of the question.”
Kyra stepped in front of the creature and folded her arms across her chest.
“If I have changed the past, then we can change the future. This egg is the offspring of the two dragons that were the strongest against the curse. She asked me to save them. That is exactly what I am going to do.”
“How do you propose to do that?”
Kyra shook her head. “There must be a way. If there was no way, then how could I have reached into the past?”
Njar nodded and opened a portal. This time he was not nice nor well-mannered about it. He grabbed Kyra’s hand and pulled her through as the two of them rushed back to the egg. She protested, asking what he intended to do, but he did not answer her. He tapped the rock several times with his staff and the boulder encasing the egg hovered above the ground, spinning slowly and humming in a low tone. The satyr then turned and opened another portal. This one opened to a view of land covered in snow with a grove of white trees all around.
The satyr directed the boulder through the portal. Not two seconds after the boulder had passed through, he pulled Kyra through with him as well. Kyra’s stomach flipped and lurched. Njar was quick to steady her and hold her upright.
“This is not far from where we just were,” the satyr said. “I used a portal in order to save time and ensure the safety of the egg.”
Kyra looked up at him hopefully and smiled, “Is this the grove you spoke of?”
Njar shook his head. “No, that grove has died, the last of its trees was uprooted and it rotted on the ground.”
Kyra wanted to ask what had happened, but the satyr’s tone prevented her from feeling comfortable enough to do so.
Njar quickly spun around and shook his staff at the trees around them.
“This one is similar though,” he said.
“You will let him live?” Kyra asked.
Njar shrugged. “I am willing to wait until I have more answers,” he replied. He directed the boulder to the center of
the grove and placed it securely between the trees. He whirled his staff in the air and caused a great warmth to come from the ground below the boulder. The great rock melted away as if it were nothing more than ice, leaving the egg open to the air and vulnerable.
“We have to hide it better than this,” Kyra said. “There are dragon slayers nearby, and any predator could see the egg out in the open.”
The satyr shook his head and pointed to the trees.
“This is not an ordinary grove of aspen trees. These are the oldest trees in all of the world. You see, each one is actually a clone of the other. It is not really that you see a grove of many trees, but rather you see many versions of the same tree. As such it has the collective wisdom of the entire world, and it is the purest of all places any mortal can get to with the exception of the hallowed ground that houses the sacred seed. This grove can filter energy in the air and delay the curse’s effect on the egg. I will agree to let the egg live a while longer while I search for answers, so long as you agree to let the egg remain here where I can watch it.”
Kyra nodded. She was so happy, she jumped forward and gave the large satyr a hug, pulling his furry chest in toward her face and squeezing his torso tightly.
CHAPTER 11
Njar told Kyra how to create a magic portal from her dorm directly to the glade of aspens where the dragon egg was hidden. This afforded her much more time with the egg, as she no longer needed to travel by foot. At first, the young apprentice sorceress had taken it as a sign that the satyr trusted her, but as time went along she realized that the portal also served the satyr, for it prevented Kyra from knowing exactly where the egg was hidden since she had never traveled there by foot, nor had she seen a map marking its location, nor would Njar describe in more detail where it was. After seeing the vision he had shown her, she could understand his trepidation and wariness, so she did not let it bother her. Instead, she chose to be happy with the fact that the egg was still alive and she was allowed to come and read to it whenever she wished.
Often, when she did come to visit, the satyr was already there. Sometimes he was sitting nearby, and other times he was more actively checking the egg, ensuring the ground was warm, and sometimes gauging the purity of the glade itself. He said it had something to do with making sure the energies were in balance, whatever that meant. She was happy for his presence, because Kathair had been sent away to train more with the dragon slayers.
As the days turned to weeks, the satyr would come not only to check the egg, but also to listen to Kyra as she read the stories. On occasion the two of them also discussed magic, though the satyr was hesitant to show her any additional spells beyond the portal. He was kind and friendly, but there was always a barrier between them. There was an ever-present scrutiny in his eyes whenever he was around, as if he had not yet made up his mind about the egg, or even Kyra herself.
The weeks rolled by and slowly the snow began to melt. Small green buds appeared on the aspen trees, unfurling into fresh, vibrant leaves. Flowers began to push forth from the soil and stretch their leaves and petals toward the sun. The air began to warm and the night skies cleared of any clouds harboring snow. Thanks to the portal, Kyra was able to stay beyond sundown, and she did so nearly every night.
Then, on a sunny afternoon when Kyra had finished her study session with Cyrus early, she arrived to find the satyr standing next to the egg flanked by several other satyrs. Unlike him, none of them had staffs. Instead, they were each dressed with leather armor and armed with spears and axes.
“What are you doing?” Kyra asked.
Njar smiled at her and held a hand up to settle her nerves. “It is only a precaution. The dragon will hatch today. When he emerges from his shell, I will be better able to judge his strength and energy. The warriors are here only in case the dragon has already been turned. If he is unharmed by the curse, they will return home to my village without a word.”
Kyra heard everything that he said, but her mind grasped only upon the fact that the dragon would hatch today. She dropped her books and ran to the egg, placing her hands upon the smooth shell and checking it for any sign of cracks. “When will he come?”
As if in answer to her question, a sudden thump slammed into the egg directly below her palm. Kyra jumped, pulling her hand back for a moment and laughing. Her eyes sparkled as she looked to Njar. He smiled, but his expression failed to hide his serious doubts. Kyra looked back to the egg and placed her hand upon it again.
“Well, come on out then,” Kyra coaxed. “I have waited a long time to meet you.”
Another jolt, and the entire egg quaked as cracks tore through the top end of the egg and ripped through several inches of shell. Next, there was a bright glow coming from within the egg. The satyr reached out and gently pulled Kyra back just a couple of steps. She looked to him questioningly, but he pointed to the egg. A blast of fire tore its way through the cracks, the flames hissing and crackling as they stretched out several feet into the air.
“Be careful not to get too close until he is out,” Njar warned. “A hatchling will use everything it has to escape its shell. Until it can see you, it will have no regard for your safety, for it is unaware of your presence.”
Kyra shook her head. “I will be fine.” She pushed him away and move back to the egg.
“Be careful not to help him,” the satyr said. “Struggling against the egg helps prepare his body for the world. Should you help him break his capsule, it is possible that his muscles will not develop.”
Kyra nodded. She had figured as much already, for she had once had large butterflies at her home. She had nursed them from Caterpillar to butterfly, and had received much the same warning from her mother when it came time for them to burst out from their cocoons. She placed her hand against the other side of the egg and called out again to her dragon. “Hit it over here.”
A moment later a great force struck the inside of the shell just under where her hand was. So strong was the assault that a piece of shell roughly the size of a saucer plate popped out and fell to the ground. Kyra held her breath and positioned herself to look into the hole.
At first she could see only large, brown scales. They shifted, and then an eye slightly smaller than a hen’s egg looked up at her from inside. The pupil was large, round, and dark, and it was surrounded by a golden yellow iris that had small green flakes in it. The eye twitched up and down as it looked at Kyra. She smiled and the two stared at each other for quite some time. Then the eye disappeared, and the egg shook terribly. Cracks appeared in various places as the egg fell to its side. A pair of long, sharp claws emerged from the hole that had been pecked out and then ripped another hunk of the egg off. Half a minute more of struggling and the egg shattered apart, falling to the ground all around the dragon. Great leathery wings with a span longer than the height of a man stretched out to either side of the dragon. It lifted its head into the air and roared triumphantly.
The satyr chief was quick to examine the dragon. He was not intrusive about it, for he was able simply to assess the creature’s energies from a distance. After a moment he nodded and all the other warriors disappeared through a portal back to the village.
“He is yours to name,” the satyr said. “You are the closest thing he has to a mother, and I want no part of naming him.”
Kyra looked at the satyr and understood without asking that the reason he wanted no part in naming the dragon was because he still assumed that one day the curse would overtake it. If he were to give it a name, it would be harder to label the dragon as a monster and kill it if that day were to come.
Kyra walked toward the dragon and his head twitched back suddenly to look at her. She stopped, half wondering if the dragon would attack her. After all, she had no experience with such creatures. It was one thing to read about them in a book, but it was quite another to see one in person. From the snout to the tip of his tail he was just over six feet long, more than big enough to do serious damage if it wanted to. The dragon cocked his
head to the side again and their eyes met and locked for several moments. The slight apprehension she felt melted away and again she was confident that the dragon would receive her kindly.
“Do you know who I am?” Kyra asked.
The dragon made a strange sound, something like a purr, but much, much louder, and then it came to her and stuck its head under her hand using his neck to make her pet him along the back of his head. She was surprised to see that he was not scaly as she had thought when she had first seen him. There were lines that appeared to be in the shape of scales, but his skin was leathery and smooth.
“A hatchling will form its scales in the first few weeks of its life,” the satyr said, as if he understood what she was thinking.
Kyra smiled wide as she reached down to pet the creature with both of her hands.
“I have a name for him.” She gently slipped her hand under the dragon’s lower jaw and tilted its head so that she could look into its eyes once more. “I will call you Leatherback.” The dragon let out a small puff of blue flame and then he circled around Kyra and dropped to the ground to rest.
Njar moved in close and spoke softly to her, “He will need food. If you are sure you want to undertake this, then it will be up to you.”
Kyra looked at the satyr and drew her eyebrows together. “I don’t even know where I am, how can I find enough food for a dragon?”
