*****
Chapter
One
*****
The dragon called
himself Revaramek the Resplendent. Revaramek because it was the name his mother
gave him, and Resplendent because even for a dragon, he knew he was especially
magnificent. His emerald scales glittered in the sun, while the markings across
his limbs and vast wings shone like copper fire. Yes, he was a beautiful
creature, and everyone knew it because he was always telling them.
Fittingly for such a
regal beast, Revaramek ruled over a great domain. Savoring the warmth of the
sun upon his wings, he soared above the lands he’d heroically conquered in his
youth. A blanket of verdant forest and marshland spread out beneath him in all
directions, and all of it was his. Even the collections of sticks and mud the
humans called villages were held in his rule. After all, he knew his subjects
understood who was in charge.
The
great green dragon, that’s who.
Revaramek dipped a
wing, banking in a lazy circle to survey his lands. The dragon flew at the very
edge of his abilities, high enough that the air that filled his great lungs was
bracing and cold. Hot blood pumped by his powerful heart and the sun’s heat
kept his sensitive wing membranes warm. Translucent membranes protected his
eyes from the biting wind. It was a beautiful day to try and touch the clear
blue sky, to reach for the edge of existence. Failing at that, it was also a
lovely day to lord himself over his lands and subjects.
A sudden, painful
rumble gnawed at Revaramek’s belly. The dragon flattened his spiny frills. That
damn deer he’d accepted from that gracious hunter had gone right through him.
Scrawny thing was all gristle. He should have eaten the hunter, too. Revaramek
pulled his wings in, scanning the ground as he descended. His stomach growled
again, and soon he spotted a suitable feeding area where a solitary herder
tended livestock.
Time to a strike a
little fear in the hearts of men. Or, at least, a man.
With his destination in sight, Revaramek descended in a sharp spiral. A ramshackle house build of logs and sticks with a thatched reed roof stuck out from the top of a grassy hill. Uneven lines of willow-boughs fenced off the rest of the hill from the marsh beyond. A few dozen shaggy sheep wandered aimlessly about their pen, unaware of the terrifying majesty descending upon them. They baaed and grazed while they herder prodded them with a stick.
With his destination in sight, Revaramek descended in a sharp spiral. A ramshackle house build of logs and sticks with a thatched reed roof stuck out from the top of a grassy hill. Uneven lines of willow-boughs fenced off the rest of the hill from the marsh beyond. A few dozen shaggy sheep wandered aimlessly about their pen, unaware of the terrifying majesty descending upon them. They baaed and grazed while they herder prodded them with a stick.
As Revaramek swept in
over the marsh, he resisted the urge to announce his arrival with an
earth-shaking roar. No sense scaring his meals. Fear made the meat taste bitter.
He back-winged to slow his descent, then dropped onto the mossy earth hind-paws
first. He touched his forepaws down and trotted a few steps to the trail that
lead to the hill. The herder shooed his nervous flock back towards the
buildings, then walked up to the fence.
“Greetings, subject!” Raveramek’s voice was
brassy and proud. “I am Revaramek The Resplendent!”
“I know who ya are.”
The old man wiped his hands against his dirty brown clothes.
“Of course you do.”
Though pleased by the recognition, Revaramek was a little dismayed by the old
man’s apparent lack of fear. “Since you are not trembling at my arrival, you
must know that I am your benevolent ruler.”
The herder snorted, and
spat on the ground.
That wasn’t exactly the
response Revaramek was looking for. Then again, benevolence wasn’t really his
thing. It hardly suited a dragon, but it did make things go smoother with the
peasants. Or perhaps the man was just ignorant. Benevolent was an awfully big
word for a marsh-dwelling old dirt farmer.
“You see, benevolent
means…” He trailed off as the man just stared at him. The old coot’s face was
so weathered the dragon wondered how he’d ever get all the dirt out of those
wrinkle-valleys. “Aren’t you a gnarled old bastard.”
The old man leaned
against a pole in the ground, glaring at the dragon. At least, Ravarmek thought
he was glaring. With a face that haggard it was difficult to be sure.
“No matter. I’m sure
you’re just happy to bask in my presence. I’ve come to fill my belly, and so I shall
require some of your…” Revaramek lifted his horned head, gazing across the
sloped pasture. A dozen or so small brown and white animals milled about,
bleating. Those weren’t the sheep he’d expected. “What are those?”
“Pygmy goats.” The
grizzled codger cleared his throat, and spat again.
Revaramek wasn’t sure
which baffled him more. That fact that someone would raise pygmy goats, or the
fact they existed in the first place. He pinned his frills back and gave a long
sigh. “Fine, fine. I require a donation of your finest…” He grit his teeth.
“Pygmy goats.”
“T’aint yers.” The
wrinkles deepened across the herder’s face. “Now git.”
The dragon bristled,
his spiny frills flaring around his head. “Excuse me?” He curled his long
emerald tail, and flexed it to show off the spikes that tipped it, and the
sharp-edged webbing between them. “Who are you to deny the ruler of these
lands-”
“T’aint yer lands.”
“Of course they are!”
He snarled, unfurling his wings. Then he glanced up at the sky. Wait a moment,
just how far had he flown today? Maybe they weren’t his lands. He snapped his
jaws, deciding it didn’t matter. “Now listen here, you insolent little worm,
you bring me your pygmy goats at once, or else I’m going to incinerate…” He
glanced around. Not much in range he could burn. “Your outhouse!”
“I said git! I ain’t
afeered of ya!” The herder yanked on the pole he’d been leaning against, which
turned out to be a rather large pitchfork stuck in the earth. “Ya might kill
me, but not ‘afore I shove this here pitchfork all the way up under your tail!”
Now that didn’t sound
pleasant at all. While Revaramek had no doubt he could slay the man long before
he got anywhere near his tail, this was all becoming far too much work. With a
snarl, he launched himself back into the air off his powerful hind legs. The
burst of air from his magnificent wings knocked the old man onto his ass.
“You shan’t be shoving
that pitchfork or anything else under my tail today!” Wait. That didn’t come
out right. “Or…ever!”
As the herder struggled
back to his feet, Revaramek circled his hill. He had half a mind to eat the old
bastard on principal alone. Given the look of the old man, the consequences
wouldn’t be worth it. He could deal with knights, but he’d rather not spend a
few days with a horrible case of the runs. The dragon took a deep breath, his
plated chest expanding. With a roar, he squeezed his fire glands and spat a
stream of roiling flame across the small, rectangular building on the edge of
the pasture.
In an instant, the
outhouse erupted in red-orange flame. Just as fast, the scent of burning
excrement filled the air. Revaramek scrunched his nose, pinning his ears back.
That smell was hideous. It might not have been his finest retaliatory moment,
but it wasn’t bad.
The dragon cackled as
he flew up the hill. A bit of mayhem was always so much fun. “Enjoy that
pungent aroma, you pug-faced old goblin!”
“Go screw yerself,
Dragon!”
“That’s anatomically
impossible!” Nearing the top of the hill, Revaramek glanced back at the furious
man and the flaming latrine. Curls of greasy smoke stained the sky. “But if
you’ve got a few eager maidens lying around--”
CRACK!
With a tremendous
crash, the dragon smashed directly into the side of the herder’s house. Rickety
wood exploded all around him as the building shattered and he exploded out the
other side. Pain thudded through the dragon. He hit the ground and rolled a few
times, skidding through the grass. For a moment, he lay sprawled in the earth
amidst an ocean of splinters, unsure what happened. The dragon panted, his ears
rang. When he collected himself he rolled over and onto his paws. His limbs
wobbled and he stumbled back and forth before he caught his balance. Though he
ached just about everywhere, a quick stretch of his limbs and wings revealed no
serious injuries.
The dragon gazed back
at his wings. A multitude of blooded scratches marked their beautiful green and
copper surface. He stretched them to try and ease their throbbing, his frills
flared in pain. Grimacing, Revaramek tested and flexed his paws, then turned
towards the home he’d just demolished. Only a few walls still stood. Shredded
thatch was scattered everywhere. Wooden plates and cups littered the floor. Revaramek
hissed at the battered structure. How
dare that wretched farmer put his house in such a place. At least human
homes were flimsy or he might have broken his damn neck.
“My house!” The
herder’s voice rose above the sound of crackling flames, bleating goats, and
ringing ears. “You ruined my house! I hope those dragon-slayers neuter you, you
scaly ringworm!”
“Now that’s uncalled
for!” Revaramek hissed.
Revaramek shook
himself, his scales clicking. What had he even come here for, again? He licked
his muzzle, gazing past the fan-shaped debris field created when he blew
through the back wall. A single small brown goat poked its head around a
half-standing wall to nibble at a bread crust upon the floor.
“Ah, yes.” The dragon
worked a kink out of his long neck. “Lunch.”
The Resplendent padded
around the remnants of the house towards the herd of tiny goats. They scattered
when they saw him, bleating their rightful terror. The dragon snorted, glad at
least something here was afraid of him. He bound a few paces and leapt into the
air, beating his wings. As he hurtled over the goats, he unsheathed his claws
and snatched one of the animals in a forepaw. It flailed its little legs as he
ascended and gave a horrible, shrieking bleat. So he bit off its head. Small as
the goat was, it was barely more than a snack. When he saw the farmer below, Revaramek
couldn’t resist the urge to the goat’s head at him. The farmer toppled over in
his attempt to avoid it, and rolled down the hill.
Cackling in glee, the
dragon ascended in a lopsided circle. Foul smoke from the smoldering outhouse
churned beneath his wings in oily swirls. As he rose, he licked the goat’s
blood from his muzzle and his paws, then worked his tongue against his teeth to
dislodge a hoof stuck between fangs before it grew too irritating.
As the sounds of
increasingly disturbing insults faded, Revaramek decided he’d probably spent
enough time visiting with his subjects today. He beat his wings harder, rising
towards the sky again. Soon the warm, late summer air of the marsh and forest
gave way to the colder, bracing air of high altitude.
At higher altitude, the
dragon had to breathe a little deeper, pump his wings a little harder As a
hatchling, he’d once gazed up at the azure expense, and swore to claim it for
himself, just as soon as he was high enough to reach it. Even as he grew old
enough to realize the impossibility of that ideal, he still wondered. What if
there was something beyond the sky? What if it was like the inside of some
great, blue egg? If he could breach it, what would lay beyond? Perhaps there
was a whole other world out there, waiting to be discovered, claimed, and
conquered.
Or perhaps he’d just
flown too high.
Revaramek descended
until breath came easier.
Even then, he still had
an excellent view of his land as he made his way home. In the far distant, a
dark haze smothered the horizon. For a moment, he thought he’d gotten
disoriented and was flying back towards the goat farmer. A quick glance behind
him told him otherwise. He angled his wings, banking towards the hazy smudge.
Perhaps he wasn’t the only one out burning things today. After a few minutes of
flight, he drew close enough to see what just what was burning. Dread tingled
at the base of his frills, and ran in cold shivers down his neck.
In the far distance, a
whole village was on fire.
Revaramek beat his
emerald wings, accelerating. He’d been around enough villages to know they
didn’t just burn themselves down. How
very odd. He pumped his wings harder to ascend again and better survey the
area. The village in flames did not look particularly large or important. Only
a dozen or so buildings, most of which little more than smoldering wreckage.
The rest were still consumed by roiling fire and pouring black smoke upon the
sky.
When the winds shifted,
the smoke blew towards him. Revaramek sniffed it, searching it for clues as he
banked away. The scents were heavy with charred wood, burnt straw, but little
in the way of seared flesh. There was something else in the smoke, some odd
scent that seemed only vaguely familiar, as if he’d only smelled it in a dream.
It reminded him of the way that book vender’s cart smelled when he’d set it
aflame. Old and musty and lightly acrid, like burning vellum. The dragon
sniffed again, and smelt only burning wood and blazing thatch. Given the way
the smoke bore only a hint of overcooked meat, Revaramek thought most of the
villagers must have gotten out safely.
Lucky for his subjects,
he thought.
Actually, were they his
subjects? He wasn’t familiar with this particular collection of flammable
materials. He circled the ruined settlement, trying to get his bearings. Far to
the west lay lands ruled by some humans living in a fancy stone castle. That
wasn’t his. To the north lay more wild forests, abutted by the same towering
red-gray mountains that hemmed in his own domain’s eastern side. Another dragon
once ruled that place, and he hadn’t yet tried to press his luck there. Fly far
enough south, and eventually the marshes gave way to treacherous, foul-smelling
swamps. No one wanted to rule that. His mother left that land for a reason. And
beyond the mountains? Out there lay a desert that may as well have been a
wasteland.
Which left this little
village. He’d flown further than he realized, and might well be beyond the
borders of his own territory. Scanning the ground, he spotted a road cutting through
the forest. The road marked an unofficial border, and the village was on the
wrong side of it. That made things much easier. If the village didn’t belong to
him, then it wasn’t his problem. He wouldn’t have to retaliate or investigate
or any other such nonsense. He’d just let the humans solve their own problems.
Revaramek made another
circle around the smoking ruin. He was still curious about just who had started
the fire. They’d probably just pissed off the wrong dragon. Well, more the pity
for them, he thought. They should have known better than to anger dragons. And
if one of his brethren now faced an army of furious knights and self-righteous
dragonslayers hunting them down to seek revenge? Revaramek tossed his head as
he flew, glad that wasn’t his problem anymore.
As he circled, he cast
a last glance at the village when movement caught his eye. He could have sworn
he saw something down there. Though his translucent flight membranes protected
his eyes from the smoke’s sting, it was still difficult to see through.
Revaramek banked through the smoke, and black vortices spun off the tips of his
wings. Just as he pulled around, he saw movement again out of the corner of his
eye. Almost looked like some small figure, dancing amidst the ruin, beneath the
smoke. But when he turned his head, he saw only ash and flame.
Snarling, Revaramek
cursed his eyes for playing tricks on him. Just to be sure, he made a final
circuit. If there was some drunken dwarf down there, stumbling around, he
wanted to see, because that sounded funny. Unless it was a child. In which
case, Revaramek supposed he’d have to actually do something about it. Surely,
his subjects would appreciate him saving the life of some child trapped in
fiery inferno. Ooh, he liked the sound of that. It sounded like a legend his
subjects would write songs about. Maybe they’d even send him a friendly maiden
or two. He liked friendly maidens.
His last pass revealed
nothing of the sort. No dancing drunkards, no lost children. Just ruined homes
and stables, and a few unfortunate animals too scorched to be edible. Oh well.
He was sure his subjects already had plenty of songs to sing about their
resplendent overlord. And there would always been another inebriated fool
falling in the mud to laugh at. Besides, all this smoke made his throat sting.
He coughed and pounded his wings against the air, heading for cleaner air.
Beneath him, a line of
packed earth snaked through the trees. Revaramek angled his wings, following
the road for a little while. Searching the ground ahead, he spotted the
telltale huddled forms of downtrodden peasants. There were at least a few dozen
of them, along with a couple horses and carts. If they were refugees, maybe
they could tell him who set the fire. Hell,
some idiot probably knocked over a lamp. As he neared them, he descended
towards the road so he could call out to them.
One of them turned
around, looked up, and thrust a finger towards the sky.
“DRAGON!”
Everyone screamed and
scattered. Women snatched up children and ran into the forest. Horses reared
up, whinnying and fighting against their yokes. One of them bolted down the
road. Packs and clothing flew out of the bouncing cart. A few men hoisted
makeshift weapons, scythes and pitchforks and hammers. Another had a
woodcutting axe. One man had a bow, and nocked an arrow as he backed towards
the woods.
Revaramek flared his
wings, pivoting away from the road. “It wasn’t me, you bloody idiots! I didn’t
burn your village this time!”
The man fired his arrow
anyway. It went wide, but Revaramek decided he’d had enough. “Fine, then! You
can all get mounted!” He beat his wings, ascending. “By a pygmy goat!”
The dragon smiled as he
flew back into his own lands. He’d certainly won that little encounter. A good,
filthy insult always made him feel better. Surely it would leave their pride
offended and stinging long after they’d built themselves some sort of hovel to
shelter in for the night. It was a shame for them that damn fool decided to
fling an arrow at his underbelly. If not for that, Revaramek might have invited
them to pledge themselves to him. As his subjects, they could have ventured to
one of his villages for respite. Now they’d have to build themselves another
collection of mud and sticks to live in.
Revaramek pumped his
wings harder. Thanks to his accident with the goat herder’s house, they were
stiffening up. He angled himself southward, back towards the familiar marshes
of home. He tucked his limbs up against his body as he accelerated. The dragon
had a sneaking suspicion he was going to be awfully sore tomorrow. Once he got
home, he’d take a nice long nap. Yes, he liked the sound of that. Such a
resplendent dragon deserved a long, cozy nap in the warm sun.
But first, he had to
see a farmer about some sheep.
All this mayhem made
him hungry.
Lovely story! (I just found this) Couldn't help but notice you seem to be missing a word! nthe sentence "When he saw the farmer below, Revaramek couldn’t resist the urge to the goat’s head at him." I believe you are missing the word throw. Thanks!
ReplyDeleteHey, thanks for reading! And glad that you're enjoying it so far! Basically what I've got posted here on the blog is, what's become the first book or so. When I get a chance, I'll upload book 2, as well.
DeleteThanks for pointing that out! It was basically...speed-written for NaNoWriMo, so I'm sure it's got lots of little errors to find and fix lol.
Hope you keep enjoying!
How did you find the story?