Dragonslayer's Son
Dumian blinked. He blinked again. Where his house had once stood, there was now a charred ruin, but his mind was having trouble comprehending this. Taking a few hesitant, stumbling steps, he made his way through what was left of the door, a few black sticks dangling from metal hinges. Tripping over rubble and nearly falling through weak floor, he searched the house, but everything he found that was destroyed. He found the bodies of his parents and siblings, who had tried unsuccessfully to make it out of the house. Dumian was too numb to speak. Unable to bear the sight of his home and family destroyed, he tried to blink back the beginning of a flood of uncontrollable tears, and ran out of the house, to the woods.
The conversation in the council room came to an abrupt halt as Dumian entered. He could feel the wary and accusing eyes on his back; for three weeks, no one would look him directly in the face. He made his way to the back of the council hall, towards the rooms usually given to visiting dignitaries. His own room had once been one of these, but, as no one in the village had offered a place in their own homes, this was the only room offered too him. The time since the dragon had killed his family had been long and lonely, for no one would associate with the dragonslayer's son. Dragonslaying was always a risky business, and the proof had just hit the village of Lethara in the face. Not only had the avenging dragon killed the dragon slayer, but they had wreaked revenge upon his whole family. Except Dumian. The son of Jenoad the Dragonslayer was shunned throughout the village; no one wanted the final revenge of the dragons coming down upon them because they had simply offered a room to the boy. At least they could talk to me� Dumian thought. But no one had said a word to him since "it" had happened; he hadn't offered a word to anyone either. No one needed to walk up into the woods to see the house to know the extent of damage. Half the village had seen the dragon descend into the woods, and seen the billows of smoke go up from the direction of Dumian's house.
Dumian reached the door to the back hallways. I hope the dragon does come for me. They say that dragons can smell the blood of a dragonslayer, and dragonslayer is an inherited occupation. Father� Dumian bit his lip to hold in tears. Father had said that I would be a 'slayer. At least if the dragon came for me, these pompous bastards would loose their council hall. Then he heard a voice behind him calling his name.
"Dumian Rathon!" a deep male voice said behind him. "You are needed in the council room immediately!" The man told him, pointing to a small door on another wall of the room. Stupid bastard, Dumian thought when the man would not get any closer. He probably thinks that "Dragonslayer"-ness will rub off on him. Nevertheless, Dumian made his way to the door, and pausing to knock and be acknowledged, opened and passed through.
The village leaders made no attempt to beat around the bush. "Dumian Rathon, son of Jenoad Rathon the Dragonslayer, you are hereby banished from this village of Lethara, it's fields, lands, and homes, for eternity."
Dumian was too stunned to speak. They finally decide to talk to me, and here they send me away forever. "You can't do that!" he blurted out. "I'm the dragonslayer now, if you havn't done the math yet!"
"And are you a fully-trained dragonslayer? Hm� unless your father could teach you all you need to know about slaying in the 15 short years of your life, then we do not believe that you have any basis for your claims. The dragonslayer of the village is under our protection, but you are not a dragonslayer, and therefore are not entitled to protection because you provide none yourself," the village healer shot at him. "Your brothers were more promising, but they're dead."
Dumian glared at her loathingly. So much for respect of the dragonslayer. 'Slayers are supposed to have the full support and backing of the village, seeing as for all the protection they provide. So what if I'm not fully trained? But he wasn't. It was true. "Where am I to go, then?"
"To another village, to be trained by their 'slayer. You will come back as soon as he finds you worthy. And if he doesn't, then we go without a slayer. Probably the only reason we ever needed damned slayers was because of the slayers themselves attracting the dragons with their "ancient slaying blood" or whatever nonsense you use to assure the title of "slayer" stays in your own bloodline," the old, graying, plump village headman said in a nasally whine.
"So you're scared of us, are you?" Dumian threw at him. The whole room stiffened. "You are, aren't you? Well you'll see. I'm a slayer, never you doubt," he smiled poisonously at them. "Let me just get my things, and I'll be on my way. Don't let me trouble you a moment longer." With that, Dumian turned and sauntered out of his room, a haughty mask concealing his dispair.
Where am I to go? What will happen to me? He thought as he packed his things. Once that was done, he carried it all out to the community stables. Just as he had suspected, a horse was saddled and waiting for him, a groom ready to hand the mare over. Of course they wouldn't give me a nice horse, he thought as he looked over the chestnut nag. She was old and slow, possibly barren and more than likely lame at one time or the other in her life. At least she'll take me away from here. Putting on a mask of pure boredom again, he mounted the mare, putting a change of clothes- a shirt, tunic, a pair of trousers, and something for cold weather - along with a few days worth of food in the saddle bags behind him. The only other thing to his name was the dagger his father had given him, and which had been with him when his house was burnt down.
The whole village- or at least most of it- turned out to see him go. No one cheered, but there was a definite feeling of relief as he passed out of the village bounds. Dumian allowed himself a little smile of contentment. They won't see me again. Never. I'll find a village that needs a dragonslayer, and settle down there. No one picks my future for me, especially when they're a group of superstitious idiots who could care less if they had a 'slayer. With this last thought to sustain him, Dumian started on his journey to a new life.
DRAGON! Dumian's senses screamed. He wondered in the back of his mind why only 'slayers ever got the sensation of feeling dragons near- the special 6th sense that heightened the senses, and made the 'slayer aware to all around him. His mare, bless her soul, also sensed them, but with her prey senses, not anything supernatural. She bolted, and Dumian was just barely able to keep the old nag from running herself to death. He got her to circle, though she was sweating heavily, and dismounted. Leading her under the larger bushes for cover, he tied her sturdily to a tree and drew his dagger, planing to only defend himself if need be.
Overhead, seen through the branches, a fire-red drake swooped low, bellowing in rage. His glistening ruby hide was streaked with gold, and his slender head on a long neck swept back and forth, searching for something. Shit. He smells my blood. What now? Dumian looked at the mare, considering releasing her for a distraction if he had to make a getaway. Then he heard another bellow, this one deeper than the males. Great. Theres a drace too. Can't get around her and him, even with the mare. The female dragon passed even closer, her body twice as large as the drake's and a deep violet with metallic-black points. Why such a patrol for me? I didn't know the dragons hated my family that much. The bat-like wings of the dragons beat the air as they circled over a large area, and Dumian counted no less than 20 dragons soaring the skies between him and his village, which was a day or two behind him, and the same distance in every other direction. Feeling considerably nervous with every passing moment, he started to wander away from the mare, in case he could find a slim chance of escaping so many dragons. Then he heard a rustling about 100 feet away and too the left. Peering through the brush, he caught a glint of silver and blue-green that could be nothing other than dragonskin. Just as this passed through his mind, the dragon lept - but not at him. The mare tore her reins in her fright, and galloped away. The blue-green dragon was no larger than a horse himself, and he stared at the skies in horror, then dashed back to the nearest cover - straight for Dumian. It was either show himself or be trampled, and at first Dumian couldn't decide who was more shocked at his action - the dragon or himself. In moments, he was standing just out of cover, facing the dragon with his dragon-knife poised and ready. The dragon came to a complete stop, his slitted eyes agitatied, and just dodged around Dumian instead of staying to fight.
~Stupid human! Get under cover!~
Dumian was to shocked to move. What in the world had just spoken in his head? Surely not the dragon?
~Damn all humans. No wonder they don't live long.~ The blue-green dragon's head and long neck snaked out of cover, his head just about the size of a horses, and snatched Dumian by the arm, hauling him the few feet back into cover. Dumain woke up at the danger of being eatten, and lunged at the dragon with his knife. ~They would kill you if you see you,~ The dragon replied as he hastily dodged the knife. ~Stop that! I won't hurt you. It would make too much noise, and bring the Elders down on us. Damn it all, stop it!~ the dragon said as he dodged Dumian's knife again� barely. Suddenly, he lunged out with his nose, and Dumian caught a glancing blow on the dragon's cheek with his knife before he was flat on his back, knocked over by the dragon. ~That hurt. Now just stay there, if you know what's good for you. Bloody humans. I think the Elders are following your horse. Thanks for the getaway.~
Dumian was just about to say that it was his getaway, not the dragons, when he wondered how he even understood the dragon.
~Ah, the humans don't know that about us, do they?~ The dragon replied, and Dumian swore a little smile played on the dragon's lips, just as he thought that he hadn't even asked the dragon how all of this was being done.
~Silly humans. Never heard of thought sensing?~ Once again, Dumian was startled by the dragon's ability to know what he was thinking. ~No, I guess not. Shame. To make a long story short, and since I don't really know that much, it's kind of like you're picking up the thoughts I send to you, and� well�~ The dragon shifted on its feet. Dumian could have sworn the dragon looked guilty. Just as he thought this, the dragon looked at him more sharply. ~Ok, so yes, I'm not supposed to be reading your thoughts, but you don't know how to hide them, and I needed to talk to you. If you don't want me to, just don't think so loudly. Or think of something boring at your most conscious level and whatever you really want to think about at the second level. It's not that hard, once you get used to it.~
Dumian tried this, and it was a bit confusing at first, but he was determined to not let the dragon read his thoughts anymore. As soon as he thought he had it, he thought, That dragon can't be more than an adolescent. It's tiny, compared to the others. And I think it's a male� The voice in his head had definitely had drake-overtones, though the only reason he could think of a way to explain how he knew what "drake-overtones" were was his dragonslayer blood. Suddenly the dragon's head shot up.
~I THOUGHT something about you smelled strange. You're one of THEM! Oh, the lair would be thrilled if I killed the last of Raonen's line�~ Dumian lept to his feet, knife poised, and the dragon's eager look gained a bit of aprehension. Furious, Dumian thought his worst thoughts, and, wondering if he was doing it right, shoved them at the dragon.
~Your kind killed my family. My whole family. Why shouldn't I just kill you and have MY revenge? It seems like you're just doing it for glory,~ Dumian glared hatefully at the dragon, who suddenly looked ashamed, his whole body drooping.
~I'm sorry. I should never have thought that.~ Then he looked at Dumian out of the corner of his eye. ~Truce?~
Dumian shook his head. ~NO. I don't partake of deals with scum.~
~Scum, aye?~ The dragon's head flew up. ~Take that back.~
~Make me,~ Dumian challenged.
The dragon's eyes whirled. ~My pleasure.~ He lunged at Dumian, and Dumian stabbed at the dragon's side. The dragon withered away, but didn't escape totally unscathed; a red seam and a dribble of blood marked its blue-green hide.
Its dark blue yes glared at him, but then a roar was heard almost directly overhead, and the dragon glanced up in fright. In its moment of hesitation, Dumian lunged at it, scoring a deep gash on the heavily muscled shoulder. The dragon gave a half-scream, then sounded as if it tried to swallow the rest of it.
~Do you want to bring the elders down on us?~ The voice was strained. ~Wait until they're gone, if you must have your revenge, but if I'm going down, so are you.~ Then, before Dumian's very eyes, the deep cut in the dragon's shoulder closed, leaving not a trace of a scar. Dumian's eyes bulged.
How�he tried to think about how it was possible.
~Oh damn. Now you're going to pry, aren't you?~ The dragon said acidly.
~STOP READING MY MIND!~ Dumian "shouted" at the dragon.
~Fine.~ the dragon glared at him, then, to all appearances, curled up in a ball as if it was a cat going to sleep. Only slitted eyes watching Dumian showed it was still awake. ~They won't go away for a while, now that they've got the horse and noises for clues to where I am. I suggest you keep still under cover.~
~What are you thinking?~ Dumian asked half- exasperated and half- incredulous.
~I� well, I stole something belonging to� someone� in my lair. And he didn't take it too well. So now I can't go back. Ever.~ The dragon looked a bit sorrowful. ~Which is quite a long time,~ it added.
~Well then why did you steal it?~ Dumian asked.
The dragon paused, then answered, subdued. ~Has there ever been anything you wanted so badly that you'd do anything for it? Anything at all?~
~Other than revenge on my family?~ Dumian glared briefly at the Dragon. ~Not really. Unless you count running away from my village to prove to them that I am a� dragonslayer�~ He finished akwardly. He was sitting across from a dragon, after all.
The dragon actually chuckled, or so Dumian thought. ~Well then you have no idea. I want to be a mage. Not a shaman, but a real mage that breathes fire and creates spells and such. To be one of the Hunters. Like the one that killed your family,~ the dragon said with no hint of repentance in its voice.
~We have mages too!~ Dumian said, wondering how much else humans and dragons had in common.
~We know. They're the ones who hunt us, the ones like you,~ the dragon said matter-of-factly.
~No, I'm just a Dragonslayer. It's my blood. Mages are born randomly, of no specific bloodline. They don�t hunt dragons because their magic� kindof, well, bounces back if they use it on a dragon. A long time ago, our mages tried, and their magic bounced back and killed them. Since then, only the Dragonslayers who are born to other Dragonslayers have been the only ones who can successfully fight dragons.~ Dumian said. Odd, he thought, to be talking about dragonslaying to a dragon!
~Hm, so that was what those humans tried back in the Second Age,~ the dragon said more to itself.
~Wait� you were there? In the second age? Just how old are you?~ Dumian demanded. No one knew just how old dragons grew.
~Going on one-thousand, or so. I wasn't there, but Elder Meath doesn't bother to explain his history lessons very well. Everyone wondered what he meant when he said. "The humans threw fireballs at us as we passed overhead." Everyone knows that humans don't breathe fire! Then again, Elder Meath is so old even he doesn't remember. He's probably going senile.~ The dragon said nonchalantly. ~The older dragons tend to loose count, except to remember who they're older than,~ It added in obvious digust.
Dumian's mind was still trapped on the "one-thousand". ~Do dragons live forever?~ he blurted.
~No,~ the dragon replied with what Dumian swore was a smile, ~But we do live quite a bit longer than humans!~
Dumian was beginning to wonder if his earlier assumption of an adolescent drake was correct or not; the dragon definitely did not act mature by human standards, but it was many times older than the oldest human Dumian had ever heard of. ~How old are� adult dragons? At least your parents, maybe?~
~My mother is ten- thousand. At least that's what she says. My father's a mage. No one wants to even try and count how old he is.~
~When do dragons become adults?~
~Five thousand or so years. Why?~
Dumian did some quick figuring. ~Why, if dragons have proportional maturity rates to humans, you can't be much different than a four or five years old!~
~I'm offended!~ the dragon snorted - lightly, for there was still danger of detection. ~I've seen those little snot-nosed whining things run around your villages!~
Dumian nodded, but privately agreed with himself. The dragon was only about as mentally mature as a 10 year old; not as young as he had thought, but definitely not as "old" as Dumian himself. ~So, what's your name? And� ah� are you a drake or a drace?~
~Oh! Not even the famed dragonslayers can tell the drakelings from the dracelings?~ the dragon smiled gleefully. ~My name's Roth, and I'll be a drake when I grow up. I considered being a drace, but they aren't as agile as a drake.~
~Wait a minute,~ Dumian looked doubtfully at the drakeling. ~Dragons can choose what sex they want to be?~
~Yes. Can't humans?~ the dragon - Roth - asked, looking at him quizzically
~Well, no, not really. We�re either born female or male... dracling or drakeling.~
Look for more later!
