[Marten]: 478.Merkahn and the Dragon Masters

Smoke. Thick, hot, billowing clouds of blackness. It swept over the small city with a hateful all consuming malignance. The flames that interspersed the hot choking plumes were the only variance in color. From the city, the sky could not be seen. The roaring of the inferno was the only sound; no one was left to scream. Heat was the only feeling. Like a furnace, the firestorm melted, burned, or scorched everything, leaving only piles of dust. The city once called Hithak, home to many people, ceased to exist.

Columns of red dragons whirled down from the sky, descending on a scorched and barren hill overlooking the roiling mass of fire. Their riders dismounted, taking in the sight with cold gruesome satisfaction. Removing the crimson helms signifying their rank, both riders and dragons felt sated with the blood of the city. Reveling in their power, the dragons roared. Man and wyrm alike felt the invincible force of domination. Nothing could stop them; nothing would stand in their way.

* * *

Merkan stood, arms folded, watching the gentle stream trickling happily through the forest. The air around him was cool and smelled of cedars, the sun had just risen high enough to warm the trees and make them smell nice. The stream was perfectly clear and would no doubt taste sweet and refreshing. Merkan didn’t stoop to drink, no, not yet, for he was looking for fish. Presently, not seeing any, he bent to drink. The water tasted as good as he’d expected. He’d been walking a long time, twelve or so days. He hadn’t seen any towns, people, or farms. He hadn’t even smelled people. It seemed that he had reached the end of civilization, and would now have only birds and animals for company. This didn’t bother him in the slightest, birds and animals do not chatter about silly things, or interrupt you while you are sleeping, nor while you are trying to ease nature, and they only intrude on you while you are eating if they are hungry. Even then, he mused, they generally bother you while you’re cooking, and not actually eating.

The wandering warrior reclined on a comfortably shaped rock, consuming a rather old loaf of bread, and considering off-handedly whether or not he was near the edge of the world. Sages, star seers, and wise people knew of course that the world was round, or more accurately, spherical. Studies and calculations had been preformed and preformed again. Merkan had helped perform two. One of which involved him riveting measuring sticks together at their ends to make a giant folding measure stick. Clearing a very, very, very, long road, everyone had laid the stick out, flat to the ground. Picking it up and using more sticks, measurers began recording the curvature, and sure enough, the world was quite curved. Almost like a melon in fact. The thought of melons made him hungry again, even though he’d just ate. He decided to go on walking now, not that he had anywhere to be, or any itinerary for being there.

* * *

Fire! Fire! Fire! It was everywhere. No way out. No escape. Talia awoke, sweating, in her bed. Her mother sat soothing at her side. Looking out, she saw it was the dark hour before dawn. “You were having a nightmare,” her mother patted her forehead.
“No. No, we have to get out of here.”
“You had a dream, darling, only a dream. Be at peace.”

They had never believed her before anyway. She would dream, not a normal dream, she could always tell the difference. But her parents never believed, even though her premonitions were never wrong. So finally she started keeping them to herself. She couldn’t sleep, the dream had been strange a unnerving, even for one that gave her insight, so she went outside, tying her blue silken robe tightly over her thin white nightclothes as she went out the door into the dewy morning. Her soft bare feet contacted the wet cobblestones sending cold shivers up her spine. She walked out of town up the hill, not knowing where she was going.




* * *

Tanli’s daughter had been plagued with nightmares since she was born. She was just 18, but her mood was ever serious and mature. Tanli knew she had never understood her daughter, but she did love her. She was shy, but to her mother, she was an open book, always describing beautiful dreams in detail. She was everything her mother wished her to be. Obedient, dutiful, and very intelligent. Talia could even read. Not only read, but read well, and write. Skills Tanli had never, and secretly knew, would never, master. Talia believed in her though, and always urged her on. Tanli was proud, as proud as any parent could ever be. Proud that her child was excelling in ways she’d never even thought of trying. But she knew she couldn’t understand her child. So, she would soothe, cuddle, and try to get her to sleep again. Climbing into bed herself, Tanli curled around her husband, unable to shiver away the deathly cold she felt. The feeling passed, and she dismissed it, folding into the warmth of sleep.

* * *

Merkan crested a hill and looked at the stars momentarily to catch his bearings. “Oof!” He exclaimed as something small plowed into his stomach. Looking down, he saw a young girl, perhaps sixteen, maybe older. “Watch where you are going!” He regretted his sharp tone immediately, as she stared up at him with frightened distraught eyes. “I’m sorry, I meant to say, be more careful.” The look of terror seemed unabated, and he realized that she was frightened from some exterior source. “What’s wrong?”
“Fire, the fire comes.”
“What?”
“No, nothing, never mind.”

Copyright, Paul Martens, 2004