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Once, long ago, there were dragons that lived in the mountains high above all other creatures. Not for vanity did they live this way but so that they could watch the world and caution it when great evil would encroach. But the years become decades and decades became centuries. And so, as the dragons stayed perched high up on their mountain tops, those below forgot that they had watchers. Life continued and legends grew so that even the dragons themselves forgot what their true purpose had been. But evil had a way of knowing when the gate was left open, when the shield had been drooped with fatigue and it sought the cleverest ways to come. Evil came in the guise of a man who preached and spread the seed of discontent. That evil had actually been there all along. That the dragons, so high up and mysterious, were evil themselves.
There were only nine dragons left after this time. For they had settled into a contentment that only old age could bring and forgotten that they needed each other to survive. So when this man, this hidden vileness, came into the world, the eight of the nine dragons could barely be budged to take action. They argued, they grumbled, they complained but in the end, only one, not the oldest nor the youngest but the wisest, a great midnight purple dragon with the hint of green to her scales answered the call, the task given to them. Her name, Syalsai.
Disgusted by her kind's refusal to action, she flew down to the earth below and listened. She heard the words wrapped in silk and velvet that the man spread about her kind. How he encouraged those with weak minds to act in a manner that was more bestial, more disturbing that any man with some fear of a power above or below acted. It was as if a madness had taken them so far beyond that they no longer deserved the privilege of being called man. Still she did not act. How could she? Syalsai was just one voice against a thousand that shouted into the night. One sapling in a stand of a thousand trees that stood rooted into poisoned soil. Now, all dragons had power. A power that connected them to the energy of life, the energy of growth, and use that energy to hide in plain sight.
So, she took the form a woman. Why a woman when a man caused such great harm and foul? Why a woman when no man would listen to her, merely cut her down and put her in her place? Because only a woman could know and understood the truest, the purest of all powers.
And so, days became months and then months became a year. A year and a day, Syalsai walked the earth, gathering all that she could learn about this man who spoke against her people. And during that time, another dragon, lonely and upset that she had chosen the earth below over her own kind, had come down to find her and bring her back.
A great fight ensued between them. He, who was not the strongest or the bravest but the most cunning amongst them, brought his power to bring her back. He who called himself Rwolrwen. A lengthy dragon of burnt orange dusted with gold and black. But this slap of power was nothing compared to Syalsai's and she bound him to her so that she might at last complete the task set before her from long ago. By now, the preacher had been given a great congregation, a following that would do his bidding for the simple hope of everlasting pleasure. So mindless were this folk in their following that they would have jumped and flew if he had asked it. But he did not. Instead, he ask that they turn on their loved ones, accuse them of the blasphemy he rejoiced and reveled in, claim that they were the ones who spread evil. And that the only way to cleanse them was to burn the rot from their flesh.
Hundreds died before Syalsai could rescue hundreds more. It hurt her, cut her to her very soul to hear the screams of innocents in the air while those most guilty laughed and looked on. Finally, her fury had been awakened. But she could take dragon form no more. So, with nothing more than her spear for hunting, she climbed upon the back of her champion dragon and plead with him to carry her as his burden one final time. His heart was heavy and it was difficult for him to push his body from earth. He summoned his strength. It was not enough. He summoned his beliefs. And still he could not lift them. Finally, Rwolrwen summoned his love, knowing that he was taking them to their death but also their fulfillment and he rose like the legend he was from the rocks and soil. She sat like a proud queen, though her face was racked with sorrow, and met the priest who had now revealed himself as a twisted mockery of humanity upon a great insect-like mount in the air.
They crashed into each other.
Claws against metal armor, life against destruction, good versus evil. The sun and the moon raced towards each other in the sky. One to cover the other as an eerie darkness fell. The warm air chilled so that frost formed suddenly on plant and animal alike. She jabbed, he slashed, she dodged, he jumped. Later, those who could bear to watch, said it was as if lightening fought against itself, the skies threaten to render apart and then fall.
Bleeding, bloody and loosing strength, Syalsai realized that she would lose this battle. But if she could wound the demon, main him so that his healing would be slow and he would take to hiding, then maybe another could take her place. Maybe the mortals would produce their own champion to meet and vanquish this stain upon the world. Her blood dripped into the eyes of her beloved and he too realized that he would met his end when she met hers. Desperately, he clawed and grabbed the winged menace, prepared to bring them both down to the ground hard. It would cause them both never to rise again. But with hope, it would also cause both of their deaths.
Rwolrwen reached, Syalsai stabbed and they both hit their marks.
In a downward spiral, good and evil fell towards the earth. And at last, the sun began to peak from the moon and claim its place back in the sky. When all four bodies hit the earth, the ground itself recoiled and flowed backwards like water. And the waters left their place to flood the world. Such a deep crevice split the earth open that some feared it was ripped in twain. But it wasn't. Broken bodies fought to move and meet in battle. The demon was now afraid, for broken it could not complete its task. And its master, for all evil seemed to have master darker, more sinister than itself, would punish it. Devour it into nothingness leaving only scraps behind. It struggled and rose first, its hatred driving it. The mount lay destroyed, like one would squash a fly or roach with a rock. Even Rwolrwen was stilled.
Gasping, gaping, Syalsai fought to move but her bones were shattered, splintered beyond repair. She screamed as she used the last of her strength to face her enemy. Her belief in herself, her belief that maybe her kind would come and rescue her, her belief that light could always chase the shadows back caused her to face him. Still, she was mortal and a frail one at that. He knew that he had her and approached. He stood over her as she kneeled, tears of fierce emotion streaming down her cheeks. He stood and laughed, assured that victory was in his grasp.
The darkest of dark pulled a knife that glinted like bones in the night from his body. She could see how sharp it was, knew that he meant to peel her skin from her flesh. But she kept her head held high and refused to show him fear. It practically danced as he was within a hair's breath of her perched body. Laughter, so sinister and cold bubbled from his lips that she flinched as if hurt. But her eyes met his and she was the one who smiled as the laughter died.
For there was something that the creature did not know.
Life was about balance. There was good and there was evil and one could not exist without the other. Just like if one so evil could enter this world, then it would be one so pure who would cause it to exit. Blood bubbled from its lips. It gasped and looked down to see a spear shaft gutting him, going through his corpeal body and out the other side. "How," he asked. "I have killed you."
The vile light began to fade from his eyes as his flesh began to rot on the spear. She laughed, looking down at the shaft that was also gutting her. Her blood seeped from the mortal wound. "I have killed us both," she replied.
Turning to see behind her, Rwolrwen had tears streaming down his eyes as his hands let go of the fatal weapon. Coughing and choking on her own blood, Syalsai grabbed the spear and pulled it through her flesh the rest of the way. The demon collapsed and turned to dust, vanquished by that truest of powers. She folded onto the cold floor and reached for him, reached for the one she knew would finish the deed. A faint smile touched her lips as she passed from this world into the next. Oh yes, for since the Creator had shaped them all, why would they not all return to where they belonged? And the cleverest of them all, who had not seen this conclusion until the very end, crawled over to the body of his beloved and held her close, hot tears cooling on her still body. He looked up, body shaking with anger, eyes full of sorrow and lost to this world, and shouted. "The deed is done!"
He screamed this, grief causing his voice to be raw. Finish it. And so, seven dragons, all in a circle of the most amazing colors, were seen hovering above the chasm in the earth's crust. Claw touched claw and tail twined with tail as they began to sing. A song of cleansing, a song of grief but a song of new beginning. In a circle that held the purest of colors seen by man and animal alike, a light began to form and grow. It shot down into the depths of the earth and began to knit and bind. The light grew and rocks molded. The singing became louder and roots reached for each other. Finally, there was nothing but a pure white light and the two halves of sundered ground meshed back together so that it was if no injury had ever been done. Finally, grasses and flowers, bushes and trees sprouted. They matured and rose their leaves to the circle of purity, reached for the sun that once more ruled supreme in the sky. The wound was healed but the scar would never be gone. The dragons, lowered their voices and released their tails. Looking down, the eldest and the youngest were pleased to see two flowers growing side by side. One the darkest of midnight purples and the other the brightest of oranges, leaves intertwined with seed pods heavy with new life.
Satisfied, the seven dragons bowed to each other and released their claws. They flew high, higher than the highest clouds, to perch back on their mysterious seats. To go back watching but no longer waiting. For that part of their destiny had finally been completed.
 Naree · Wed Aug 11, 2010 @ 05:51am · 0 Comments |
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