by Paul Cude
“Uhhh... thanks,” uttered For’son, overcome with fatigue, his head spinning from using so much of his magic.
“Sit, sit,” fussed Orac. “Stay there, I’ll get you a drink.”
It was only then that the librarian turned to face the exquisite looking female that now had her eyes on him.
“Hi...” was all that he could blurt out, that’s how tongue tied he was.
“Hi yourself,” replied the stunning looking dragon, stretching out her wings and raising her tiny little arms up over her head.
Not knowing what to say, having never spoken to a being so good looking and gorgeous before, it was then that the librarian was saved.
“Good afternoon, youngster,”
“Hello,” was all that she could get out, as an imposing cranberry coloured dragon towered over not only her, but the tongue tied and shy dragon that had addressed her first of all. Wondering what was going on and exactly where she was, it didn’t take long to find out.
“Don’t worry... you’re quite safe. You’re in the capital... London! And in case you didn’t know, I’m the dragon king... Greger.”
For Keesha, it was a jaw-dropping moment. Meeting the reigning monarch... wow! It was more than she could have dreamed of when setting out all that time ago. And then it hit her, like a cold hammer pounding a hot forge.
“My... my... my kin sire, they’re in trouble. That’s why I’m here, to ask for assistance to deal with what’s happening to us.”
“Yes, yes my dear, we gathered as much. A problem with... the ra-hoon?”
“That’s right. How did you know?”
“You mumbled it when you were brought in,” added the librarian, suddenly finding his tongue, still very much in awe of the golden beast before him.
“Where are you from, and what seems to be going on?” asked the monarch, eager to get to the bottom of things.
And so with the king, Orac, and For’son albeit in quite a state, doubled over, holding his huge prehistoric head in his tiny little hands, all listening intently, the youngster tried to find the words to describe what had happened.
“My name is Keesha and I hail from the southern province of China, a thriving and peaceful land and one that’s glad to be part of this new found, global dragon partnership that you’ve spearheaded, Majesty. Over the last decade things have been going well, with the underground tunnels linking us and the nearest cities nearly finished, agriculture flourishing, and peace and respect plentiful between all the dragons of the land. Three months ago, that all changed in the most dramatic of fashions. From out of nowhere, in the northern part of our territory, appeared a herd of beasts that we thought at first were unicorns. Boy, were we wrong!”
As Greger and the librarian listened patiently, the king’s protector sat hunched over, rubbing his forehead, trying to clear the misty fog from his psyche, cutting through the clutter in an effort to hold onto the words that appeared, at least to him, to be coming from quite a distance away.
“Anyhow, we learned the hard way, losing half a dozen of our elders on that initial contact.”
Unable to look either of the beings hovering over her in the eyes, getting more upset by the minute, Keesha dropped her head down to face the floor.
“They weren’t killed or anything, far from it in fact. It might even have been better if they had been. Somehow the unicorn lookalikes had... I don’t really know what to make of it. They’d taken over the minds of the dragon elders... all of them. Not only could you see it in their eyes, because they were almost totally white with no sign at all of an iris, but in their actions as well, which were vicious and beyond belief. To start with, the former elders would just raid our settlement and the few closest to it for food, ignoring anything else, not actually hurting anyone, but threatening to. All six together were intimidating to say the least, and so we just let them take what they wanted, it seemed better all round that way, and we thought that maybe they wouldn’t come back. But they did, in even greater force, having somehow co-opted dragons from other settlements. And that’s when it started... the real wickedness and evil. Not in their right minds, at least not from where we stood, the dragons not only steal our food now, but deliberately look for a fight, destroying everything and every being in their path. Perfectly innocent dragons have been killed, ambushed in the most heinous of ways, for no apparent reason. And as if this weren’t bad enough, they went after our nursery ring last week, killing three youngsters before enough of us could get there to defend them.”
Recounting this part caused Keesha’s hands to shake and her eyes to fill up, barely able to continue, but she did, because she knew how important it was to those of her kind back home, despite her voice wobbling precariously.
“We don’t know how to defeat these ra-hoon creatures and have tried everything at our disposal. On occasion some of our warriors have got close enough to attack them with magic, albeit from some height, all to no avail. Nothing supernatural, as far as we know, can hurt them. And to say that they’re smug when all this happens is something of an understatement.”
Forcing her beautifully scaled golden face to look up, she gazed directly into Greger’s eyes, holding her stare, despite the flow of teardrops down her primeval cheeks.
“Please, Majesty, will you help us? We don’t know what to do, and just long to tend our land and live out the rest of our lives in peace and quiet.”
Opening his huge jaws, about to speak, a voice from off to one side beat him to it.
“We’ll most certainly help,” commented For’son, still clearly suffering the effects of transferring a fair deal of his magic over to the graceful golden dragon. “It’s been a while since I’ve had a real challenge, and this sounds like it could very much be the next one.”
“Are you up to the task?” asked his friend the king, concerned at just how drained he looked.
“It’ll be okay,” sighed the warrior, before turning to address their guest. “How long did it take you to get here?”
“Four days,” she replied.
Impressive, all three of them thought at once.
“Was that non-stop?” asked Orac, amazed that any being could cover that distance in such a short space of time.
“Nearly,” replied Keesha. “I slept for about an hour a day, and if not for that brutal storm front last night, then I would have been here much sooner. By the way, how did I get here? I can remember stumbling across solid ground and crashing into some sand, after that though, it’s all a bit of a mess.”
“The two merchants over there,” observed the king, pointing out past the glass screen with the tip of his right wing, “found you in bad shape lying on the beach. Much to their credit, they brought you straight here, which probably saved your life, youngster. I should thank them when you get the chance.”
“I will do, sire.”
It was then that things got back to business.
“What is it you need, For’son?” declared the monarch.
Turning towards the beautiful and entrancing golden dragon, the king’s protector asked the obvious question.
“How many ra-hoon are there? You said a herd, how many does that mean?”
“We’ve counted seven in all, but with the way they seem to work, one would probably cause us trouble enough.”
Standing up, still a little unsteady on his feet, the warrior pondered what he was up against. Deciding not to take a huge force because it just didn’t seem necessary, particularly given the distance involved, he opted to go with a familiar solution.
“I’ll go back with Keesha and if I need support I’ll enlist some of the locals to help out.”
“Are you sure?” asked Greger.
“It’ll be alright, and let’s face it, it’s not like it’s the first time. Like it or not, these ra-hoon creatures are going down.”
“Ummm... are you seriously sending just him to help out?” ventured their guest, hardly able to believe what she was hearing.
“I can understand how you might have co
ncerns, but don’t worry, he’s the best of the best, and the reason you’re feeling so good right at this moment. Five minutes ago, you were still unconscious and at least days away from waking. I assure you, you’ll be in safe hands in his company,” replied the king, very much aware that Orac was hopping about like a squirrel whose nuts had got trapped in a vice.
“What is it?” demanded the king, turning to address the repository guardian who seemed entirely unable to stand still.
“L... l... let me go with them,” was all that he could stutter, convinced he could be of some help.
That provoked a rip-roaring riposte of laughter from For’son, at just the very thought of the librarian accompanying them.
“W... w... what’s so funny?” uttered Orac, more than a little overwhelmed at the situation he found himself in.
“YOU... out of the library, in the real world, dealing with dangerous magical beasts... it’s hard to picture in my head,” the king’s protector responded.
“I can be of use... I know I can. Please...” said the librarian, addressing Greger directly, “I can do this, and be of help, I’m sure of it.”
“Hmmm...” growled the king against the background rumble of his huge scaled belly. “I’m not quite as convinced as I usually would be, but I suppose your knowledge might come in useful. FOR’SON,” he went on, turning to face his friend. “Take Orac with you, if for no other reason than to grant him some experience. And keep him safe, I’m entrusting his life to you... understand?”
About to argue against such action, out of the corner of his left eye he could see just how desperate the librarian was to join their cause, and so instead of objecting he just swallowed, his throat feeling as dry as the Sahara desert, and nodded an affirmative. It wasn’t ideal he knew, bringing someone along who had absolutely no fighting experience, but what he lacked in physicality and offensive magic, he more than made up for in intelligence. Perhaps the king was right and his expertise might provide a solution in that far away state.
And so with that decided, six hours later, and after having said their goodbyes to the king, the three of them found themselves perched precariously on the outer battlements of the capital, London, looking out across the meandering river, their stomachs filled and their bags packed, about ready to launch into the air.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Forson asked Orac, one last time.
“Nodding eagerly, the considerably smaller prehistoric monster offered a thumbs up with both of his spindly hands.
“Let’s do this then,” suggested the warrior who, while not fully recovered from his earlier magical exertions, was well on his way to being fully fit. “Would you like to lead the way?” he said, addressing Keesha who looked utterly magnificent in the moonlight.
Smiling, she gave him a nod, before turning back towards the horizon, and bounding off the battlement. Noting the thrill on the librarian’s face, For’son indicated with just the shake of his head that Orac should follow. Visibly gulping before he threw himself into the air, the shy and retiring librarian grinned from ear to ear, nodding in the warrior’s direction. Shaking his head, wondering what he’d got himself mixed up in this time, the king’s courageous protector leapt skywards, and with two flaps of his powerful wings, found himself trailing in their wake, only the cold, dark blanket of the night sky for company.
“Sire, sire, sire,” cried out Walker, one of the king’s military commanders and a dragon who, surprisingly, didn’t like to fly, hence his given name.
“Yes, what is it now? I’m in the middle of assessing the plans for the new subterranean geothermal power producing plant.”
“I’m sorry, Your Majesty, but I really don’t think this can wait.”
“Okay... come on in. What is it that’s so important?”
“We’ve just had word from... Ahrensburg!”
That would have knocked the king’s socks off, had he been wearing any. Imagine that... dragon socks, that would be some piece of knitting.
“Explain!” ordered Greger.
“For some time we’ve covertly been trying to cultivate contacts within Ahrensburg’s borders, up until now with little success, the fear of retribution from their leader all encompassing, with absolutely no one willing to help out. Two weeks ago a dragon approached us by one of the back channel means that we nearly always have open, telling us that he wanted to help. I won’t tell you his name for security reasons, but this is from him, for your eyes only.”
“Okay,” said the king, grabbing the grubby looking, folded up piece of parchment that had been sealed on one side with some runny brown wax.
Opening it carefully, wondering if it might be a trap of some sort, but not really seeing how, slowly, the king read the words, all the time shaking his huge dinosaur-like head from side to side.
“Everything alright, Majesty?” asked Walker, wondering what the message might be.
Finishing up, and noting the commander’s interest, the monarch handed over the parchment to his subordinate.
“They want to establish diplomatic contact,” Walker mused incredulously.
“So it would seem, so it would seem.”
“But that’s... absolutely unheard of. Over the course of five hundred years they’ve continued to spurn our overtures of peace and good relations. All we’ve ever heard coming out of there are tales of torture, violence, subjugation and terror. And suddenly they want to do it by the book, potentially be friends. I don’t buy it... not one bit.”
“I grant you, it does seem odd. Perhaps though they heard about our latest conquest and are only now realising that it’s our way or the highway. That wouldn’t be much of a surprise.”
“It would be to me. That Nev’dir is one hell of a psychopath, and that’s just from what we know. The way he treats those under him is disgraceful. Murder, rape, torture are some of the tools in the arsenal he regularly uses against his own kin, and that’s just to start with. They all live in fear of what he will do next, none willing to stand up to him and his lieutenants.”
“I understand what you’re saying,” reflected the king, “but if there really is an opportunity to broker a diplomatic solution, we can’t afford to miss out on it. This could very well be our one and only chance to bring the whole of the world together, every last dragon under one banner. No more fighting, no more arguing, bickering, all of us getting on together, making the planet a better place, not just for those in charge, but all dragonkind. It’s what I’ve dreamed of for decades now and I can almost touch it, that’s how tangible it is.”
“I know you’re passionate about this, sire, and not only do I understand, but I share your sentiment,” replied Walker, doing his best to try and balance the conversation. “But this dragon is dangerous, more so than any other we’ve come up against... EVER! Don’t be lulled into a false sense of security, don’t lower your guard, and don’t, under any circumstances, take his word on anything.”
“As always, I appreciate your counsel my friend and I know what you say makes a great amount of sense, so I’ll think carefully about how to proceed. I would suggest you do the same. In the meantime, I would like you to get a message back to your contact inside Ahrensburg, saying that we’re open to diplomatic dialogue and would like to progress things further.”
“Understood, sire. It’ll take a few days to get it there, but I’ll make sure it’s done and that we watch out for any response.”
“Thank you. Dismissed.”
And with that, Walker turned on his heels and marched straight out of the room, leaving the monarch alone with his thoughts.
‘Can I do it? Is it really possible to unite the whole of the planet and bring dragonkind together? We’ve been so close for so long, perhaps this is the stroke of luck we need to get us over the line,’ thought Greger, lost in dreams of victory parades and statues in his honour, wanting nothing more than to spread peace around the globe. Would it, could it, be that easy? It was doubtful to say the least, but he had to try. But w
ith the potential for treachery and double dealing, he’d have to think carefully about who to put in charge. Of course he had a diplomatic corps full of qualified dragons, but none who inspired the kind of confidence he was looking for in something this sensitive and important. Perhaps sending a being more worldly wise would be the best way to resolve something like this. ‘Oh well,’ he mused, knowing that at least for now, time was on his side.
Sheltering out of the midday sun beneath a rocky bluff, all seven ra-hoon feasted like there was no tomorrow, as was their wont, gobbling and slurping nearly all of the meat, fruit and vegetables that the dragons they now controlled had stolen on their behalf. Of course they knew to save a little back to keep their minions, as that’s how they regarded them, just fit enough to fight, not having to worry about any treachery because their mental influence was all encompassing, with no creature in their history having developed a strategy to either resist or escape. It simply wasn’t possible, not even for these winged beasts who considered themselves not only masters of the sky, but of the ground as well. That, they all thought, was about to change... BIG TIME!
Soaking up the radiant rays of the sun, warming themselves atop shiny orange and yellow rocks, their magic regulating the temperatures within their prehistoric bodies, two dozen dragons sprawled out a short way away from their masters... the ra-hoon, were unable to comprehend their previous lives or remember even a snippet about their friends. Not so much lost as tempered by the imperious will of the cunning and deceitful beasts that they now served, any recollection of family was suppressed one hundred percent. And so, knowing nothing else, they marinated themselves in the heat, postured, fought over what little food was thrown their way, all the time readying themselves for the next bout of action. Simply existing, their lives could in no way be described as living, not as they’d previously known. Little did they know that their masters were planning an all out, gung-ho, for them at least, attack, determined to subjugate the remaining dragons within all the settlements they’d been stalking for months in an effort to form their own dragon army. Grandiose hopes and dreams were shared across the ra-hoon link nearly constantly, whether night or day.
