[irulan]: 73.Hope Forsaken

I am alone. I am weeping. I want to stay in this spot until my despair wanes. I am sure it won’t happen any time soon, yet I want to wait for it. However, I must keep moving and moving. I must get to some place where I will not be found, where I will be safe. Then I can let the sadness sink in until it feels like leaving. I try to move and a stabbing pain races up my wing. In my fast flight I must not have noticed that my wing was pierced by what I can only assume was an arrow. Thankfully, it is not still stuck there. Unbeknownst to me, it must have hit and eventually – oh wait, I remember! I got snagged on a tree, and I jerked away hard. I have probably managed to make the wound worse than it would have otherwise been. I must ignore the pain and leave. It will not be long before they catch up. 

I knew I had a jump on them, but my flight had been nearly blind. I was focused only on getting away. Though my head swam with countless thoughts, I ignored them all. As a result, I had not paid attention to time or distance. I hope they are far behind me. Now I am running through an open field. I keep trying to fly, but I cannot. The combination of my wound and my weakness is just too much for my body to overcome. I am still trying; I believe in miracles after all. I make it as far as I can; I must stop and rest. I really didn’t make it very far. If I can just relax for a little while I will be okay – at least, that’s what I tell myself. As I lay, trying to will my body to recoup, I can’t help but think of what happened. My mother and I had been flying, doing nothing out of the ordinary. We stopped by our favorite stream. It was a lovely, sparkling stream bordered by a lush forest. Waterfalls cascaded down the rocks and made relaxing gurgling sounds. It was our favorite for just those reasons. This day was different though. Apparently, some humans had been hunting in the forest. They also decided to visit the stream. Humans were nothing new to us; they were beings to be tolerated. We knew they feared us for some reason. I think that is partially because of some of our ancestors; they weren’t always so nice towards humans. Towns may have been burned, people may have died. It was long ago and bygones should be bygones. In my short years, I have learned that humans never forget. Though they fear us, they look at us with hatred. It is vivid in their eyes – as if they are trying to seek revenge for whatever wrongs they think our kind have committed. They looked at us; we noticed their presence but continued to drink from the stream. They started to talk amongst themselves very quietly; my mother heard them say something cruel about dragons and she communicated this information to me telepathically. She told me we needed to leave immediately. However, the humans had acted quickly and from nowhere weapons were drawn and aimed directly at us. They kept coming closer and closer. Upon her instruction, I hid behind my mother. She was much bigger and stronger after all. A spear was thrown in my direction and that was it. My mother took a deep breath, and one of the men burst into flame. The others ran away. It was a regrettable incident, and I could feel her sadness about it. I knew she had only done it to protect me.  We moved on and though it was not forgotten, the tragic occurrence mostly left our minds.

Several days later we ventured back to the same stream. We didn’t think there was any reason not to. We peacefully enjoyed ourselves for a while. Our serenity was very soon disrupted. Men appeared from every direction; a lookout must have been close by watching for us in case we returned. They had torches and every imaginable awful weapon. We were penned in and surrounded; no escape was clear to me. I worriedly asked mother what to do. She told me she would take care of it; I was to run and hide. She said she would try and be as non-violent as the humans permitted. I did not want to leave her, and now I wish I never did. I turned my back and lumbered away as quickly as I could. I found a hiding spot nearby and waited. After a little time had passed, I decided it was time to come out. I cautiously made my way back to the stream. My mother was lying on the ground, near the beautiful waterfall we loved so much. She was not moving. I stopped, unable to move myself. I could see her lifeblood pooling on the ground beneath her. I was overcome by anguish. Words do not exist to describe what I felt at that very moment. My grief was short-lived; a handful of humans had stayed around. I felt something whoosh past my nostril; it was too close. I did not want to leave without saying goodbye to mother; the light only knows what they would do with her body. However, I didn’t have much of a choice. I braced myself and took off hastily, not allowing myself to look back. 

And now, here I am and she is not with me. I have never been alone before. I know that more immediate concerns demand my attention, but I cannot concentrate. I will never again hear that familiar voice ringing inside my head. What will I do? Where will I go? I am weeping again - big dragon tears that splash up as they hit the ground. I must move on; I must trudge onward. I rest a little longer, until my body feels strong enough to go on. Flying is out of the question now; my wing will barely move. I do not think moving on the ground alone is going to save me. The humans will catch up. What will happen then I do not know, but I doubt it will be good. A sudden noise makes my ears instinctively perk. I hear the barest faint of voices. While I have been lost in my contemplation, they have closed the gap between us. I try to run and run. Due to my injury I am moving so slow that I may as well not be moving at all. I must look forward and have faith. I believe in miracles, and I am fervently hoping for one right now. They are close behind me. From all of the clamor, I know many are around me. They must see that I have no hope of soaring off the ground and escaping. Ropes and net come from nowhere; I have put myself right into a trap. If I had not been so lost in my heartache, I would like to think I would have noticed. I am smarter than this. I can only hope they will be kind to me. I have no reason to think they will be - no kind of hope saved my mother, but who knows?



Hoping has not got me anywhere today. I am tied and chained to the ground in town square. The wound in my wing is getting worse by the day. I do not know how long I have been here. I have been unaware of the passage of time since sometime after the first day. People walk by and stare and point; they occasionally throw things. I do not know what the intentions of the townspeople are. I have been fading in and out of knowing. I like the times when I am flying through the darkness, recalling happier times with my mother. It is better than facing the cold glares of those who despise me for no better reason other than that someone told them it was the right thing to feel. I don’t know why they are so close-minded and harsh. I don’t know why my brief life has decided to tread down this path. I do know that I have abandoned hope and miracles; they have forsaken me...