Blood of the Dragon: An NA Epic Fantasy Page 3

  The anger pouring from Mynora was palpable and she shook herself to clear her head. "Anyway, his actions led to the enslaving of some of the most noble beings to walk the earth. At first, Aron captured and tortured the direct followers of the Coalition. Then he had his minions go after those indirectly connected to the Coalition. Over the next decade, he expanded his reach and created laws that eventually led to the complete oppression of the dragon race. He really was quite smart about the whole thing. He never acted rashly and slowly incorporated his unjust rules into society, so that by the time his subjects realized what he had done, it was too late to stop it. And now, 300 years later, my people are still oppressed. But not for long. The time is coming for us to fix the wrongs that have been done."

  By the end of the story, Mynora was shaking in anger and Lana's eyes were wide. The girl stroked the dragon's emerald skin and thought for a minute.

  "Is this really all true?"

  "Yes, my dear. It is all true. Dragons live an average of 200 years. I was raised with an older dragon who served on the Coalition's side of the battle. He would tell me stories after the humans had gone to sleep. His stories helped me get through the brutal years of my young life."

  Mynora had never spoken of her youth. Lana knew the dragon was about 100 years old, but she knew very little of her life before she came to Jaje.

  "Myno, tell me about your childhood. All I see are the dragons who are brought here. I've tried asking mama and papa, but they just look at each other and ignore me."

  "Well, I guess you're old enough to know the truth. And you'll find out eventually. I'll start from the beginning. You know how hatcheries work, obviously. They operate the same everywhere. Kids like you are raised up to take over for their parents. It's the same in every dragon profession, whether it be breeders, trainers, or what have you. The difference is that breeding families tend to have a bit more compassion than those in other professions. Dealing with mothers and hatchlings requires some tact and patience. Mothers often rebel against harsh treatment and on occasion, I've heard of mothers destroying their unborn children to protect them from suffering the same abuse.

  “I was born in a hatchery down south. It was much warmer there. The keepers were not cruel, but they were not as kind as your parents, either. Your mother and father typically allow a hatchling to be with its mother for the first hour or two and give the mother time to calm the newborn as it is being removed. I was taken from my mother as soon as my shell was split in two. The hatchery there was set up much like this one. I was given a stall in the nursery, where I stayed for the first two months.

  "After that, I was transferred to the pens. As you know, the pens are divided into two stages—hatchlings and yearlings. Hatchlings often share a stall and I met my first friend that way. I'll never forget her. Her name was Rylie. She was a bright pink and had the bubbliest personality of anyone I knew or have known since. She was three months older than me and taught me how to stay out of too much trouble. She helped me understand the rules and stayed by my side the first couple times we went to the woods. She was the one who taught me how to hunt.

  “During that first year, I learned the basics of being a dragon-slave. We learned to do menial chores, such as cleaning our own stalls, cleaning the outdoor enclosures, hauling wagons like common oxen. Rylie enjoyed the labor, but I simply couldn't. I knew deep in the pit of my stomach that it wasn't right. Our keeper was decent. He did not go out of his way to make us happy, but he was not unnecessarily cruel, either.

  "Rylie was transferred to a new stall upon her first birthday and I was given a new stallmate. We didn't get along quite as well. She was moody and extremely bitter at being removed from her mother, but I did my best to treat her as Rylie had treated me. Shortly after, I was transferred to my yearling stall. We started learning new things, like the ways of combat, and we were given an hour of schooling a day.

  “We were given learning capacity and intelligence tests, agility tests, and some other exams that I can no longer recall. I excelled intellectually, so when my two years were up, I was sent to a school for learning. I spent the next ten years there, learning all sorts of things. I had a gift for puzzles, so I was commanded to develop military strategies to allow the kingdom to conquer tribes on the outskirts. I hated every minute of my job. My first master was cruel and beat his charges mercilessly. He went out of his way to find mistakes and punished us excessively. I know of two dragons that died under his command and I received this deep scar on my side from him. This job lasted until I was more than 100, though that man left after I had been there forty years or so. His successor was not as cruel, but he surely wasn't kind.

  "Anyway, dragon's breeding stage typically develops around the age of 50, and mine did, but my commanders were loathe to release me to become what they considered a waste. Eventually their superiors won out, as they wanted me to create a string of children as intelligent as myself. So I was sent here, to Jaje.

  "I have been here for 50 years now and have hatched eleven children. When I arrived, your grandfather was in charge of the hatchery. He passed that honor on to your father, who has lived up to his duties as a compassionate leader. Perhaps someday the task will be passed to you. Or perhaps, a new task lies in your future."

  Mynora's gentle nudge brought Chelandra back to the present. She had been so engrossed in Mynora's story that she had forgotten where she was. This was more information than anyone had ever told her about what happened to the dragons after they left Jaje. She knew they were raised for other purposes, but as her only future involved taking over the hatchery, no one had bothered explaining it to her.

  Dozens of questions bubbled to Lana's tongue, but Mynora refused to speak anymore about the subject. Instead, they settled down and read several chapters in the book she had brought. By the time Lana got up to leave, night had come and snow was falling in a heavy blanket. She said goodbye to Mynora and trudged home through the drifts.

  Chapter 5

  Chelandra woke the next morning with an awful headache. The events of the previous day thudded through her brain like a dozen rampaging dragons. A knock on the door at midnight had woken her from a deep, dreamless sleep, but she was shooed back to bed when she attempted to see who the visitor was. At breakfast, her parents looked agitated and stressed. Lana told her mother about the pain in her head and was given some Gypsy powder. The white stuff tasted awful and made her gag, but her headache was gone within minutes. After they ate, Lana and her father prepared to go to the hatchery while her mother cleaned up. Before they left the house, her mother pulled her aside.

  "Lana, I want you back before dark tonight. No excuses." The look on her face told Lana she better not disobey, so she nodded complaisantly.

  She spent the day in the hatchery with her father, cleaning up Tyona's old stall and putting things back in order. Her father spared her the misery of cleaning up after the newborn in the nursery. Lana did her best to avoid Nilon, but she still wanted to vomit every time she saw him in the guard cage. After lunch, Lana followed her father to the pens, where they made sure Tyona was settled back into her old home. The adult section of the pens was separated from the hatchling portion by a wall three feet thick that passed through both the inside stalls and the outdoor enclosures. There was only one small door in the center that allowed access from one side to the other without going outside. This was to keep the mothers from catching glimpses of or communicating with their offspring.

  Tyona was curled up in the back of her stall when they entered. She looked up listlessly and barely acknowledged their presence. Lana had not been present when the dragon was told of Tilor's death, but she could hear the distraught mother's keening wails from her house. It was clear that the creature's heart still ached with a terrible pain and Lana feared the wound might never truly heal.

  Nilon had been ordered to stay far away from the pens. Many a keeper responsible for a newborn's death, accidental or intentional, had been severely wounded or even outright s
laughtered in anger by the hatchling's maternal parent. Had Lana the courage, she would have helped the grieving mother exact revenge on the vile beast who even now slept peacefully in the hatchery.

  As the sun began to sink below the horizon, Lana's father dismissed her and she made her way home. A light stew had been simmering over the fire all day and the small house smelled divine. She helped her mother set the table and remove the stew from the fire. When her father returned, they shared a delicious, but quiet meal, then Lana headed to bed.

  She did not know how long her dreams chased her before she was awoken with a shake. Her mother stood at her bedside, dressed in a dark, hooded cloak.

  "Wake up, Lana. Get dressed quickly. We must go now." Her mother handed her wool pants and sweater, then passed over a second cloak. "Put the hood up. Keep your face hidden."

  The instructions were not meant to be questioned and Lana did as she was bidden. She followed her mother down the stairs and out the back. They slipped silently through the streets, taking abrupt turns often, and Lana was sure they doubled back on their own footprints more than once. By the time they reached the rear entrance of the tavern, she was out of breath and her fingers and toes were aching with cold. A cloaked man stepped from the shadows and blocked their path. Lana could see nothing but the glint from his eyes as he stared them down. Quiet words sprang forth from the black hole where his face should have been.

  "As it was before," he spoke.

  "It shall be again." Lana jumped at her mother's unexpected words, but the man moved aside and waved them through the door. As Lana passed him, she looked up under the hood and caught a glimpse of her father's teasing smile.

  Once inside, they passed through the kitchen into the bar room. Hushed chatter drifted to her as they entered and she noticed many faces in the crowd that mingled there. Old Man Withers was sitting in his usual chair at the fireplace, his daughter and future son-in-law by his side. He was speaking to Graol and Bellithana and he wore a look of pure anger.

  The town butcher sat in a booth with his wife, opposite Bolgor. When Bolgor saw Lana, a grin cracked his otherwise stern face and he waved her over. She looked at her mother, who nodded at her as she took off her cloak, and Lana went to sit by her friend. Her confusion was apparent and he put an arm around her comfortingly, though he kept his silence. She leaned against him and surveyed the group that was gathered. Every single person was a friend of her parents. She knew them all, had known them since she was a kid in most cases. She had eaten meals with them, bought goods from their stores, played with their children.

  Her confusion was multiplied exponentially when she saw Tomas, the town drunkard, make a beeline for her table. He walked without a stumble and looked perfectly sober. She had always heard stories about him, how he wandered the streets at night and often fell asleep on various stoops about the village, about how he had lost his family or something of the sort and had spent every day in the bottle since. She knew he never worked and had heard rumors of wealth gained from various means.

  One rumor stated that Tom's family left him an enormous sum. A related rumor claimed he murdered his family for the money. Still other rumors held that he ran various underhanded dealings in things such as weapons, drugs, and stolen artifacts. When she saw him tonight, though, she knew none of the rumors could be true. She had never seen him look so... normal. He had a smile on his face and greeted several people he passed. When he got to her, he took Lana by the hand and declared, "I'm so glad you are finally here." It struck her that she had never heard him speak without a drunken slur before.

  She stuttered a thank you and he laughed. Catching Marilyn's eye, he called for several glasses of his special ale to be brought over. Lana had never been one to drink much alcohol and she was not all that thrilled to partake in this particular round. But when the drinks were brought, her tablemates all took hearty sips, Bolgor included, then they watched her with sparkling eyes. Piercing her lips, she picked up the glass and took a tentative sip.

  "It's cider!" The exclamation brought laughter even from those outside the group and she blushed deeply. Bolgor's arm tightened protectively around her, despite the merriment dancing in his eyes. Tom explained to her that he had a role to play and he couldn't really be drunk all the time. But drinking cider nonstop would not be very pleasant from a digestive standpoint, so the Gypsies created a special drink for him—one that looked like ale and tasted like cider, but did not have the side effects of either.

  Tom further explained that he was supported by the people gathered there that evening, in order to be able to spend his days at the tavern, apparently drunk to any idle watchers, where he could listen to conversations had by its patrons. He used his drunken persona to eavesdrop and gather important information, he said, and wandering the streets at night gave him access to crucial information that was necessary to further their cause. Lana listened to Tom's tale and nodded, though she felt even more confused than before. Seeing the dazed look on her still sleepy face, he smiled knowingly and stepped to the front.

  "Ladies and gentlemen, if you would please take your seats, I believe it is time for us to begin."

  Those still standing found a place to sit or moved to the walls. Graol and Belli moved to seats nearer the front, and Lana saw her father slip into the room, still standing guard by the door.

  "As you all know, this is an important night for us. One of the most important nights we may ever have, in fact. Chelandra has joined us finally, so we can now begin the next phase." He smiled in Lana's direction and she saw others doing the same.

  "To this point, she has been kept in the dark." He was now speaking directly to her, though he continued to address the rest of the group. "This was done for her safety. She is such a vital piece of this puzzle; we could not risk her being compromised in any way, even by herself. Lana, I believe Mynora spoke to you yesterday about the king of dragons, did she not?"

  Lana nodded and muttered a confirmation.

  "And she also mentioned the Coalition of Man and Beast, correct?"

  Lana again nodded in affirmation.

  "Very good. You may have considered these simply stories. Fairy tales or myth. They are the truth. The absolute, cold, hard truth. The Coalition did exist about 300 years ago and it was defeated by a cruel man, Aron, who claimed the title of King of All. You were also told that members of the Coalition escaped and continued to fight the good fight. They still fight to this day, and you are sitting among them."

  Lana looked around in both fear and awe. She did not quite understand what was happening, but didn't want to interrupt Tomas's story.

  "Here today are some of the most dedicated members of the Secret Coalition. You know of the Gypsies' involvement, so I'm sure you understand why they are here. There are also Hidden here among us." He waved a hand toward a corner that remained empty and she now understood why. It was not a conscious decision for the humans to leave that area vacant, but an unrecognized acknowledgment that something else was in their midst.

  "The Hidden are key to our success and will help us every step of the way. You have had at least one as a guard at all times, even when you slept." The look of horror on Lana's face caused Tom to stifle a chuckle. "Have no fear. They give you all the privacy you deserved when you have to take care of, uh, business." She turned crimson this time and buried her head in Bolgor's shoulder, while giggles broke out around her.

  "Anyway, back to the matter at hand. Sigurd, the leader of the Coalition, was one of the most powerful and charismatic dragons to ever exist. He was a red, which is a rare breed that tends to possess multiple innate abilities. They are typically telepathic and telekinetic. They can also see in the visual spectrum of the Hidden, just as many Gypsies can. Reds are also the most compassionate and logical breed, which makes them excellent rulers. Sigurd and his mate Silene had two grown offspring, both of whom died in the epic Battle at the Black River.

  "Now, listen closely, Lana dear. This is where you come in. Since Sigurd's d
eath more than 300 years ago, a red has not been seen in Layr. Some think the reds died out with Sigurd. There has been much speculation about the matter, but few know the truth. Those of us in this room, we know the truth. The line did not die with Sigurd. In fact, the line continues with him.

  “Before the last battle, he and his wife conceived one final child. The egg was placed in stasis and kept safe by the Gypsies. Upon Silene's death, the egg was moved to a more secure location and has remained protected until this day. The Hidden have a seer among them who can determine the breed of an egg before it is hatched. There was much concern over whether the egg would be a red, like Sigurd, or a blue, like Silene. Blues are unique and wonderful in their own right, but much hope had been placed on this egg containing the heir to Sigurd's leadership. While the egg was in stasis, the seer could not determine its breed. So we had to wait until the time was right and pray that the egg held our saving grace.

  "About two years ago, the egg was removed from stasis. The seer determined that it does indeed bear a red. We also know that it is a male. This unborn creature became a symbol for our future. While he rests safely inside his shell, the world waits for the peace and redemption he will bring.

  "I see you are doubting your part in this. Well, doubt no longer. The egg Mynora has been incubating is not hers. It is the long lost Silene's. Mynora has been protecting the unborn dragon king for two years now, unbeknownst to nearly everyone, yourself included. And now it is nearly time for him to hatch. As soon as the egg begins to crack, he will be moved from the hatchery to the safety of the Gypsy camp. Once he and his protector are aboard the Gypsy train, it will move to a new location in the south, where the hatchling will be raised and groomed for his future.

  "You, dear Lana, are his protector. Graol has declared it since the day you were born and it became apparent to the rest of us as you matured. You have a maturity and compassion that is rare in a young woman of your age. Several members of the Hidden are time jumpers and have seen the role you play in freeing the dragons, as well. That is what brought them to us, to aid you in your quest. Do not shake your head, child. It is determined. You will go with the newborn and you will protect him. His future, and the fate of The Lands, depends on you. You will be his ally, his friend, his mentor, and his protector. Together, and with the help of a few others, you will defeat the cruel king and re-form the Coalition of Man and Beast."