by Paul Cude
Landing with a THUMP beside their friend, Orac and Keesha both knelt down beside his head, determined to support him in any way possible.
“You’re both still alive... fantastic!” were the first words he spoke, unable to see exactly what had happened to the ra-hoon, but assuming that by now it was already dead. And he’d have been right.
“Stay still,” urged the beautiful and graceful golden coloured dragon, knowing exactly what was about to happen.
Before Orac had a chance to tell his friend just how pleased he was to see him, a dull white light, starting in the middle of his chest, gradually working its way out to the tips of his wings, started to envelop him.
Briefly, he cried out, not in pain, but more from surprise at what was happening. And what was that, I hear you ask. The rest of the villagers, Keesha’s kin and friends, were all healing him with their magic, simultaneously. It was a fantastic spectacle as to what could be achieved by working together and said a great deal about not only their supernatural power, but their knowledge of the dragon physique.
In less than a minute it was done, For’son able to sit up at first, shaking off the rubble and rocks that had landed on him, before eventually rising to his feet, stretching out his powerful, light blue wings, astounded at feeling almost back to full health. Without warning, both his friends enfolded him in one giant hug, their pleasure at seeing him well again not able to be contained any more.
“Thank you,” the royal protector ventured in the direction of the crowd, grateful for what they’d done.
“I think it’s us that should be thanking you, For’son,” replied Lil’th, Keesha’s mother. “Without your timely intervention we’d be lost forever, and so undoubtedly, would many more dragons. I hope you’ll stay with us for a few days so that we can show you our appreciation and express our gratitude.”
Not knowing what else to do, he just nodded in reply, glad that between them all, they’d taken care of the dastardly ra-hoon.
They had, all but one of them who wouldn’t be a concern now, but might well come back and haunt him at some point in the future, not that he, or even Fate, would know that, right there and then.
And so the next couple of days were spent healing the rest of the wounded dragons, rebuilding all the settlements, some of which had been devastated by For’son’s impromptu hurricane, others by the despicable orders of the unicorn lookalikes that they’d vanquished, as well as making up for the lost food, something put right by the many hunting parties that were sent out. By the second day, things were almost back to normality for the villagers, something that Orac and For’son couldn’t have been more pleased about.
“So now do you see how sometimes brain over brawn is a much more effective option?” asked the timid librarian, who’d not only survived his first mission outside the dragon capital, but had actually thrived under extremely challenging circumstances.
“I grant you, what you and Keesha did worked exceedingly well, but what you’re forgetting is that without taking the fight to them, the ra-hoon would still be alive, and no doubt intent on revenge or taking back control of all the villagers. But I understand your point, and what you’re putting forward. Perhaps we can both agree that the use of intellect and physicality in combination is probably the best way to go and has served us well on this occasion.”
Not normally one to climb down from any strong views he held, and this was right up there for him, Orac acknowledged with a singular nod that his friend had a point as they chewed on yet more roasted lamb, something of a change for both of them, as they normally ate it raw.
Against the backdrop of some of the younger dragons amongst the villagers having a fireball contest, attempting to knock down targets over one hundred metres away in an effort to see who could achieve the greatest accuracy, Keesha appeared amidst the two of them, deftly sitting down next to the librarian, much to his delight. A little too much, thought For’son, a smile playing out of the darkest of the blue scales around his face, something that didn’t go unnoticed.
“What?” exclaimed the young golden dragon that had been instrumental in their success.
“It’s nothing,” he answered, not wanting to tease or embarrass the dragon he now thought of as a friend, something that before this particular mission he’d never really considered, although now looking back on it, he probably should have.
“Hmm...” mused Keesha.
“What’s up?” queried Orac, very much wanting to change the topic of conversation.
“The villagers and I were wondering if you could stay a little longer. It’s been such a pleasure having you both around for the last couple of days, and it’s not often we get visitors out this far. Everyone agrees that picking your brains about what’s going on back in London has made a world of difference to us, knowing that we’re not forgotten about and that help is at hand should we ever need it.”
“That would give me a chance to study the cave crystals,” added Orac, looking hopefully in For’son’s direction, as it was he that would have the final say.
“Okay... we’ll stay for two more days. But after that,” he announced, “it will definitely be time to get back. The king might well need us, particularly if there’s any movement on the Ahrensburg situation.”
The librarian nodded enthusiastically, while Keesha pumped her fists, happy that both of them could stay a little longer.
Across the next forty eight hours, Orac, Keesha and her mother Lil’th ventured back into the network of subterranean tunnels and caves, both mother and daughter eager to help the librarian understand the rainbow crystals’ telepathy boosting properties, both pleased to be reunited with one another.
For’son, in the meantime, got to know all the villagers as best he could, sharing new and unique mantras that he’d picked up on his travels, talking to them in groups about what the king had planned for dragonkind, new and innovative processes, buildings and inventions, as well as assuring them that help would always be there should they need it again. Reassured and almost spellbound by the royal protector’s savvy, knowledge and magical knowhow, they took to him like a duck to water, constantly offering him food, drink and their unconditional friendship.
It was much the same for Orac, who despite being possibly the most reserved, shy and timid dragon of all time, had still managed to flourish in an environment as foreign as was possible. And it was clear that the exceptionally beautiful young golden dragon, Keesha, and her mother, had both taken a shine to the selfless librarian. Things were going swimmingly, as was Orac’s progress with the crystals in the cave, something he was eager to tell his friend about later that evening.
Chomping down on roasted lamb again, the fluffy coat removed, the meat cooked to perfection on a spit lit by a villager’s own flame, the king’s guardian and all round warrior savoured the taste of the meat as it slipped effortlessly down his throat, wondering if this was the way forward. It did seem finicky, to have to cook your prey all the time, but in his mind at least, the reward well outstripped the work involved. Knowing that he’d have to tell the king when he got back, momentarily he imagined magnificent kitchens being built, vendors across the capital roasting their wares, the exotic waft of brilliantly cooked meats filling the alleys and streets of the capital, making your stomach rumble just by walking past. Hmmm... just the thought of it had his gigantic light blue belly gurgling in anticipation. Abruptly, a tap on the shoulder startled him back to reality.
“Would you like some more?” offered Lil’th, Keesha’s mother, having apparently heard his belly rumbling.
“That would be great, if it’s not too much trouble,” he replied, knowing that he’d need to be full when they started out on their return journey.
As he watched, two of the villagers pulled another hot, sizzling roasted lamb off the spit, and brought it over to where he sat on the sand.
“Thanks,” he said, as they stabbed the bottom of the spit into the ground, letting it just stand there like a donor kebab in a takea
way’s window. As he started chomping on it wildly, his friend the librarian dropped to the floor beside him, chunks of much more raw meat and a selection of vegetables in the bowl that he was carrying.
“My friend,” For’son announced, greeting him fondly, something which was almost a new experience for the both of them. “How’s your day been?”
About to slide what looked like a whole leg of lamb down into his prehistoric jaw, Orac stopped and considered the question.
“Really good, thanks. As a matter of fact, I need to talk to you about the crystals.”
“What about them?”
“I... I... I think they might be the key to sending messages around the world.”
“WHAT?!” exclaimed the warrior, nearly choking on his lamb as he did so.
“What I said... I think the crystals have the power to help us transmit simple messages around the world, in... not quite the blink of an eye, but fast. If we could do that, imagine how easy it would be to keep in touch with other enclaves of dragons. There’d be no need for messengers, saving hundreds of thousands, if not millions, of hours of flight time. If somewhere needed help that only the capital could provide, think how quickly we could respond... to natural disasters, rogue dark magic users, or any sort of pandemic. This, if I’m correct, could change the face of the planet forever.”
‘Wow,’ For’son thought, not entirely convinced of it as a concept, but sure that if his friend thought he could get it to work, then he had little doubt it would become the next big thing in the king’s armoury to help the world at large. Wanting to assist in any way possible, he tried to predict where this was going.
“You want to take some of the crystals back to London?”
“I do. We harvested some earlier on today.”
“We?”
“Keesha and I.”
“Ohhh... nice!”
“How old are you?” the librarian asked sarcastically.
“One hundred and forty six, not that it’s any of your business.”
“Anyhow... we harvested as much as I thought we could carry, and have adapted some bags so that we can do just that.”
“How much?” For’son asked, wanting to know about the extra weight, they, or more likely... he, was expected to carry.
“Ummm... quite a lot,” answered Orac sheepishly, ironic considering what they were both eating.
“Is it really that important?”
Gulping down half a dozen tomatoes, a whole lettuce and half a cabbage, the repository guardian nodded frantically in response.
“We’ve got an awfully long way to go,” For’son mused to no one in particular.
Immediately the look on the librarian’s face changed to one more suited to a lost puppy than that of an apex predator, which was what he was supposed to be.
Shaking his head, knowing full well he was going to give in, he smiled at his friend and said they’d try and take it back, TRY being the optimal word.
And that was that. Orac had got his way regarding the crystals, and so they continued to enjoy their last night with the villagers, which included more of the fabulous food, the two friends consuming as much as their bellies would allow in preparation for their long journey, as well as singing, dancing (For’son most certainly didn’t join in with this... Orac was reluctantly persuaded by, yes you can guess... Keesha, a dragon he was besotted with, one he’d do absolutely anything for) and much drinking, some of which included some kind of alcohol that was distilled from a vegetable called a potato, something the royal guardian gave short shrift to.
Piercing the darkness, the sun’s first morning rays swept across their encampment, casting light and shadow in nearly equal amounts, the dragon villagers’ slumber all but over, some of them looking more worse for wear than others, due in no small part to the happenings of the night before.
Awake immediately, For’son rechecked the bags that his friend had assembled, noting how the crystals had all been surrounded by linen and in some cases by straw.
‘Clearly he’s not taking any chances,’ he thought. ‘It must be important.’ Ten minutes later, all ablutions taken care of, he returned to the bags only to find half of the village there to see them off.
Orac stepped forward, all the time holding Keesha’s hand, something the librarian seemed both embarrassed and proud of in equal amounts.
“Keesha,” said For’son, bowing his head in greeting.
“For’son,” replied the exquisite golden dragon, bowing in return.
“It’s time for us to leave I’m afraid Orac. Are you ready?” announced the king’s friend and protector, all business like.
“I am.”
“Standing up tall, in front of all her friends and family, Keesha attempted to express the gratitude they all felt towards the pair of visitors from the capital.
“You’ve helped us so much. We can never repay the debt we owe you. If ever you or the king should need us, we will be there, rest assured of that. Our offer of friendship is always out there. And on a more personal level, if either of you ever want somewhere to holiday, you should know that you’re always welcome here. We thank you for your bravery, courage and intelligence. Without you, we’d still be slaves to the ra-hoon, something I’m sure you both know. Have a safe journey, and we look forward to seeing you again sometime.”
And with that, the stunning golden, yellow and orange dragon leaned in and kissed Orac directly on the mouth, much to his total and utter surprise. Pulling back, all the time smiling, Keesha and the others made room for the two of them to take off. Adding the weighty leather bags which were joined in the middle, akin to saddle bags, of which For’son’s was about three times the size of Orac’s, putting them gently across their backs, the two friends waved goodbye to all the villagers, and in one swift bound, leapt skyward, in the haze of the sun and now bright blue sky, both sorry to leave, but delighted to have made new lifelong friends.
It took them three stops and four and a half days to get back to the capital, London, during which time the two became firm friends, For’son admitting to the librarian that he had had doubts about his participation in the mission, and that he’d been wrong to do so, knowing full well that he’d be dead right now if not for Orac, the crystals, Keesha and the other villagers. After which he’d said, much to the repository guardian’s pleasure, there’s no point in taking out five of the six ra-hoon if you’re killed by the sixth, something that seemed to sum up their previous predicament perfectly.
Making their way through the humdrum life of the buzzing capital, passing traders, architects, politicians and artisans, each noting how the size of the covered up statue had seemed to grow by a metre or so since their last visit, both dragons rocked up at the king’s office, much to the monarch’s pleasure.
“My friends, it’s so great to have you back, and in one piece too,” announced Greger, as pleased as punch, something that made both the librarian and warrior wary.
“Majesty,” they both stated simultaneously, each bowing their head slightly.
“Now... there’s no need for all of that, not while it’s just the three of us,” replied the monarch, still full of cheer.
‘What’s going on?’ wondered For’son, sure that something was up. But before he could ask, the king had a question.
“And how are our friends the ra-hoon? Put firmly in their place I do hope.”
“Ten feet under,” announced Orac, beating his friend to it.
“Excellent! Did you encounter any problems?”
“Nothing we couldn’t handle, sire,” For’son answered, eager to move the subject on.
But the monarch didn’t want to leave it at that.
“And how did you get on working together?”
“Fine,” ventured the librarian.
“More than fine,” added the warrior. “It would seem that Orac and I make a pretty fair team and work well out in the field together. I’d like the chance to do that again some time.”
“So would I,” Ora
c added.
Sensing just how genuine they both were, Greger replied.
“I’m glad to hear it.”
“And so what’s been going on here while we’ve been away?” asked For’son, keen to understand exactly why his friend was so happy.
“You won’t believe me when I tell,” observed the king, all the time a glint in his eye.
“Go on.”
“It’s Ahrensburg... we’ve arranged to send a diplomatic delegation to their capital.”
Both Orac and For’son’s jaws hung wide open, unable to believe exactly what they were hearing.
“How...?” started the warrior protector, unable to believe just how much things had changed since he’d been gone.
“Through the help of a trusted backchannel who has the ear of their ruler, Nev’dir. The talks themselves start in three days. The diplomatic delegations will be leaving tonight. A banquet is being thrown in their honour in two days.”
“I’m... I’m... I’m gobsmacked and utterly amazed,” said the blue shaded dragon, his mind still spinning. “I honestly thought, with everything we know about Nev’dir and his land that we’d have to use violence to rid him of his reign.”
“I know my friend, I know. I thought the same, but this opportunity came right out of the blue, and is one that can’t be ignored. If we can close the deal and get them to join our cause, we’ll have done it, brought the world together, united as one. What an achievement.”
“Congratulations, sire,” added Orac, “it’s a true victory for you and your vision of how life should be across the planet.”
“Thank you, my friend, but let’s not count our dragons before they’ve hatched. There’s still work to be done, and the outcome is anything but assured.”
“So who’s leading the diplomatic delegation?” asked For’son, wondering which of their top dragons would take on such a mission.
“Well...” ventured the king, more than a little apprehensively, “the dragon that I’ve chosen will need to have a good understanding of what needs to be achieved, be as diplomatically correct as possible, but will need one important characteristic that few in the diplomatic corps have.”
