Lying with Dragons: Ch 1

Lying with dragons: Chapter 1

         In the kingdom of Ker, near the edge of the forest and less than a days ride to the Vast Ocean an old woman calls out to the children of the village.

         "Come young'ns! Da moon's full. De Ancestors bade me tell ye da story of our great kingdom."

         From inside thatched huts and behind them the children came scurying to the meeting place in the center of the village. With much slower strides and an air almost of boredom the mothers followed behind. Some of the mothers had babies in there arms because even they are commanded to hear the story on the full moon.

         "'Ave ye ever t'ought 'bout dat skin?" A young blonde boy with a healthy slender build and dark black eyes whispered to another boy who looked to be his older brother. The brother looked at him with a curious look but did not answer so the younger brother continued, "She's 'ad da Hot Season sun burn 'er 500 times wid dark skin like dat!"

         "'Ush ye lit'le rat! I'll 'ave no talk like dat!" Their mother scoulded.

         The mothers settled in on logs and rocks while the children sat in the dirt. Some of the children continued talking about the strange looking woman. Each would compare her wrinkles to the waves on the ocean and her eyes to that of a clear day after the rains. None of this talk was not new though, this same old woman come every full moon for as long as even their mothers could remember. Next to her on either side two soldiers watched over her. None of the children dared talk about them though. A punishment worse than a little name calling or a smite upside the head came to the children who messed with the King's men.

         Two children, a slender boy who has seen the snows fall seven times since his birth and a chubby girl of similar age, sat in the back set aside from the others. Both mother and child kept their distance for the most part because of the boy, Zahilla. He looked no different than the other children except he had a mop of pure black hair and wore a veil over his eyes of similar color.

         Before Zahilla had come to the village, taken in by the Nox family, the girl, Nora, had been treated the same as the children do now. The mothers, however, understood and felt pity for Nora and would often seek to comfort her. Her size was due to a condition the children could not understand. Poor Nora was called selfish and thought to have eaten from her parents plate simply because she appeared as fat as most royal children. Now, however, mother and child stayed away for fear of Zahilla and what curse his eyes must cast if someone were to look at them.

         "When da Warm days come dey will 'ave come 500 times since da Ancestors conquered dis land. Your mothers and her mothers willing ye all will be to da castle for do festival. Ancestors bade all ta remember da 'eros lost." The story teller began.

         Her words were much different than the other full moons and the announcement of a festival caused an excited murmur amongst the children and some of the mothers.

         Nora's little dark blue eyes got large and she whispers, "Za'ila da castle!"

         Once the din settled the Story teller began to speak again, "Our ancestors come from o'er da Furrrry Mountains ta find water an food. What dey saw t'ough twas a most terrible ting..." The usual speech had now begun and as if a flame had been snuffed out both mother and child they closed off their ears and a sort of boredom fell over the crowd. "Da eeeeevil men..." She droned on.

         "No evil men cursed ye did dey?" Nora suddenly whispers but keeps her eyes forward.

         Zahilla didn't like when attention was brought to his eyes so he pretended to not to hear her and began to draw aimless lines in the dirt with his fingers.

         "Would dey send me to our ancestors? Dat why ye keep dem 'idden?" She persists and bravely reaches for his veil.

         In disgust he scowls and bats her hand away and grumbling, "Da Nox's see dem at last meal an' da ancestors ‘aven't come for dem."

         Zahilla notices that instead of being offended by his disgust Mara’s eyes light up again and her smile broadens. Then without any fear she reaches for his face again and squeaks in excitement, "Show me?"

         A paralyzing feeling of dread makes Zahilla's throat constrict. Still, he swallows it down and stutters, "Ye must swear. Our ancestors will come for ye in da night if ye tell. Jus' da one eye." And calmly pushes her hand away again.

         Nora's face lights up with excitement. As he turns toward her she says, "Our ancestors won't get so far."

         Fore boding doom continues to wash over Zahilla, but his feelings for her make it easy for him to push it away. With a sigh he lifts a corner of the veil and his one eye locks with hers. Nora gasps and her eyes fill with wonder and awe.

         "Dey're gr--" She begins to say, but a motion out of the corner of her eye distracts her.

         Neither children notice that the story teller had stopped talking and all eyes were on them. When Nora had gasped it was enough for one of the soldiers of, obviously, light blue eyes to transform into a small blue jay and fly toward the ocean in the direction of Jade Port. It fliew away with the wind, and with it, it took any hope of Zahilla having a normal childhood.

         “Child! Get you inside 'fore our ancestors strike ye!" Mrs. Nox's shrill voice turns the crowds attention and makes Zahilla duck as if her words could strike him. Lovin' Ancestors!

         As soon as he recovers from Mrs. Nox's verbal assault, Zahilla smiles at Norra in a way that says, "I will see you tomorrow”, and then turns to run toward his hut, forgetting the story teller and the crowd watching.



End of current edit, but feel free to review the rest anyway. The rest is written in more of a past tense without as much dialect. Please let me know what you think about the difference and weather or not I should continue editing it in this manner.



         Mrs. Nox stood, arms crossed, in the doorway. Her face transformed from a sweet, calm face with soothing royal-blue eyes to a boiling, red face with moist eyes that had gotten so large that Zahilla feared they would fall out any moment. My ancestors 'ave come!

         "To bed lest a tother soldier sees you." She commanded when he scurried past her. "Foolish boy." She added once he stepped inside and the door closed behind them.

         Don't strike me! In a panic, Zahilla dashed for the bed and covered himself with the blanket. He could hear the floor creak with every approaching step by Mrs. Nox. Then her footsteps stopped and started again, this time accompanied by the sound of a chair being dragged toward him. When the chair stopped and Zahilla could hear it groan under Mrs. Nox's weight, a terrifying thought crossed his mind. No! Don't send me away.

         “Let's see you." She said a moment later.

         Zahilla hesitated but complied by letting his shelter slide back over his head. Not willing to expose himself entirely, he held it up to his nose so that only his eyes poked over the edge of the blanket. He looked around the room and noticed that Mrs. Nox sat in a chair next to him rubbing her head.

         “Let's see you.” She said again, this time with a controlled, calm voice.

         Don't send me away. Don't send me away. Don't send me away! He thought when he dropped the cover from his face. Zahilla saw a few tears run down the side of her plump face. I've made her cry! He felt terrible and began to bawl.

         “Are-- ye-- go-- in-- ta-- 'end-- me-- away?” He asked between sobs.

         “No child. Twas just fright.” Mrs. Nox's face softened. She leaned close to Zahilla and began to pet his head when she spoke in soft tones. “Go an' wash dose tears and den go an' fetch Mr. Nox.” Then her voice became serious and stern, “Don't ye say a word to nobody. Jus' fetch Mr. Nox an' say dat I need 'im anon.”

         What I do? “I spoke to da girl?”

         “No, ye eyes child. She saw. Ye know 'bout dem.”

         She swore ta me. “She...”

         “'Ush now Zahilla. Go an' fetch Mr. Nox. We'll speak on ya return.”

         Why can't no one see me eyes? He thought while he slid his feet to the floor. Before he could take another step, the door swung open.

         “What has happened?!” Mr. Nox exclaimed with the sun shining behind him in the doorway. Sweat poured down the sides of his dirty square face, and it dampened his short, thinning, black, hair. Zahilla noticed that his black eyes seemed just as large as Mrs. Nox's eyes had a few moments ago.

         “Max,” Mrs. Nox exclaimed, launching herself from the chair and making it fall over, “one of da king's men 'as seen Zahilla's eyes.” She leaned her head into his shoulder, but he did not hold her, “It twas da magic one, he changed to a bird an' flew for Jade. Drake is der! Max, we could wake to da arms of our ancestors 'fore da sun's up!”

         Mr. and Mrs. Nox seemed to have forgotten about Zahilla, so he spoke up, “Why can't nobody see me eyes?”

         Both of them turned to Zahilla with a blank stare and said in unison, “Well...uh...”

         Mr. Nox smiled at him and said, “Zahilla, son ye have been blessed by our ancestors.”

         “Max.” Mrs. Nox scolded, tight-lipped.

         “Kriana, he has seen da seasons enough, he can know da truth.” He snapped back and continued, “Since da days of our ancestors no soul has seen green eyes like ya have. In dose days green eye'd people were friends with Garos da king of da vampires, da king's enemy.”

         What? “Vampires?”

         “Never you mind who dey are. Dey live 'yond Ker.” Mrs. Nox snapped.

         “Da vampires were a strong people but dey could be defeated. Den ye ancestors helped Garos and made him and his kind very strong. Our ancestor's were all but defeated."

         Zahilla could not understand what they were saying, “But, why?”

         “None know. Our ancestors forbade anyone speak of it, for fear it come again.”

         Then Zahilla chuckled to himself and said, “Maybe da king don't like dogs.”

         Despite the impending doom, Mr. Nox smiled and said, “Dat may be. When you are a man you will know. Could be another reason dough, but I fear da king does wants you in...” Mr. Nox trailed off and didn't finish his sentence, but Zahilla knew the popular saying well, ...in da arms of me ancestors.

         “Why? I have seen da seasons only seven times. I'm a child.”

         “Yes dat is true, but da king fears da vampires will take you.” Mrs. Nox added.

         “Won't help them.” Zahilla crossed his arms and sat down on the bed.

         “Yes ye won't, but da king doesn't want to lose his kingdom.” Mr. Nox replied and patted Zahilla on the head.

         The tiny, modest house fell into an awkward silence. Zahilla did not know what to say anymore, the ordeal overwhelmed him. Meanwhile, Mr. and Mrs. Nox seemed to be talking to one another without saying a word.

         “Gerrrrawrar!” A distant roar shattered the silence that had fallen on them.

         Both Mr. and Mrs. Nox's eyes appeared to double in size again.

         “I'm goin' ta speak wid Galen.” Mr. Nox said, already halfway out the back door.

         Tears began to form in Mrs. Nox's eyes again. “Zah zah, child. Do ye know dat hole under da floor?” She asked, the shake in her voice betraying her fear.

         “Da one I have ta be a puppy ta get ta?”

         He looked to her for an answer, but she just stood there. Zahilla felt like Mrs. Nox had froze in time. She did not blink, and she appeared to be holding her breath. Then a terrifying realization came over him, her face no longer looked young and vibrant. Instead, her eyes sunk in and he could see every line in her forehead and cheeks. She looked like one of the ancient ones.

         He didn't like thinking of her that way, so he turned away from her and listened to the noises that had risen outside. Among the huts the people had begun skittering around like scared rabbits and yelling like madmen.

         “Gader what ye can carry!” One man shouted.

         “Must blanket da 'orse!” Another wined.

         “No room!”

         “My mother gave it ta me. I--” A clay pot broke with a loud crash, cutting off the woman who had been yelling.

         The sound of the pot breaking snapped Mrs. Nox out of her trance, “Yes, go der now and ya not ta come out 'til ye see da moon.”

         “What 'bout mid meal?” He whined and resisted Mrs. Nox pushing him toward the back door.

         “I will get food ta ye, ancestors be good. Now I need ye ta 'ide." What of you? I can help. I'll protect you. Zahilla froze in his thoughts at the door. I will save you.

         A look of anger washed over Mrs. Nox's face. When Zahilla did not move, her eyes turned cold and her hands balled up at her sides.

         "Now!” She barked and choked back tears.

         Instinct sent him running outside. Why are dey all so frightened? What made dat sound? Is that a vampire? No... I know dat sound... But 'ow did he find me? He rounded the corner and found the small hole that led under the house. Dat girl made a deal wid dat soldier! How could she?!

         For a moment a strong flash of anger washed over him but he did not have time to think about it. Zahilla knew he needed to clear his mind and think about transforming. After dis is over I'll see her as a pup. I'll find what she's done. Villagers tell puppies things. I'll turn me head to da side. His hands began to shrink into themselves. Den I can wag my tail. Little children like dat. A layer of soft fur pushed through his skin, turning him gray. Oh! Maybe I will get some scraps. In one swift movement his legs shrunk and bent. Next his ears grew and then flopped over on themselves. Then his nose turned black and pulled away from his eyes. Next the smell of panic bombarded his senses and made him dizzy.

         Right, need to hide. Zahilla looked to his left and his right and then whimpered. Since he had shrunk his clothes no longer fit him. They had fallen around him like a bag of wheat. I need ta remember ta unclothe first. Now where is da... He began to feel frustrated and pawed at the shirt to find an escape.

         Frustration turned to panic, and he let out a sorrowful howl. Then a pair of mysterious hands clamped around his little body. Let me go lest I bite you! A low growl escaped his throat, but it cut off when he felt the hands lift him off the ground.

         “What have we said 'bout changin' whilst you're clothed?” Zahilla felt a wave of relief wash over him. This voice belonged to Mr. Nox.

         Hearing that familiar noise, and now being in Mr. Nox arms, reminded him of when he had first met Mr. Nox. The wet season had almost ended and that night the rain fell colder than usual. Maybe it had been the rain, or maybe it only felt cooler because he had just escaped an inferno. Far away from the smoldering remains of his home, he had found shelter among some trees that had fallen atop one another.

         The small cave it had created provided a little warmth and a dry place to sleep. While Zahilla slept, Mr. Nox also sought shelter from the cold rain. He found his little tree cave and Zahilla sleeping naked in it. After much convincing of his good nature, he took him home. Since then, Mr. Nox took on the role as his father figure.

         Mr. Nox pulled the shirt off of him and lifted Zahilla so that their eyes met. The moment they did, Zahilla jumped at Mr. Nox's face and licked it with enthusiasm.

         Once Mr. Nox could push Zahilla away he smiled with sad eyes and said, “Now go hide like ye ma told you ta." He put him down and set him inside the hole. "Next time ye have ta shift, take off ye clothes first.” He whispered when Zahilla's tail disappeared, along with the rest of him, under the house.

         The hole did not provide Zahilla with much space to move. He knew that no one would find him under there, but he did not feel very safe. Something inside him told him to keep moving, so he followed his instincts. He wedged his head between the wood slat above him and the mounds of dirt below. Zahilla clawed at it and squirmed his way deep under the house. Must... dig... Dig. Dig. Dig... Oh I don't feel well. Among the smells of dirt and fear, another very potent smell had made him feel nauseated. Zahilla figured it must be coming from the patch of grassy plants that grew under the center of his hut.

         When he stopped to keep from throwing up, the sounds around him flowed back. Panic controlled the villagers outside. In the hut next to him he could hear a baby crying. Ye fear da end too, don' you? Then he heard the muted voices of Mr. and Mrs. Nox. I wonder what's been said. He decided to crawl toward the voices so as to hear them better. Much to Zahilla's disgust, the patch of grass grew in that direction. Don't pay heed ta dat smell. Jus' listen. He told himself and held his breath.

         Zahilla turned to his left and followed the inaudible voices. He dug his way through the nauseating grass until the voices became easier to understand.

         "... dragons... dey... find 'im..." He heard Mrs. Nox first.

         Did a dragon make dat noise? Zahilla could not hear them clearly enough so he pushed himself through the dirt until he had reached the spot directly beneath them. Unfortunately, that also put him into the thick of the grass.

         "The Lagema grass will cover his sent." Mr. Nox's voice came through.

         Dat must be da plant I'm in.

         "Dey'll burn da village down. Dey won't be needin' dragons ta sniff 'im out," Kriana Nox cried.

         "He's safe love. When da sun goes down, da King's men 'ill leave. A soldier won't go in da forest in da dark." Mr. Nox assured her, but Zahilla could sense uncertainty mixed with a sent he didn't have a name for. Da kind when animals go an find a place ta die.Me ma smelled like dis 'fore da fire!

         "No. Ye 'eard da dragon's roar. 'E's goin' find 'im."

         "Why dey summon da dragons for a small boy? Dat Drake roared 'cause he can't come. Da King has better use of his dragons."

         What's da king goin' do? Then, among the stench of fear, Lagema, and the salty hint of tears, he began to pick up another smell.

         "'Ave ye seen da dragons, Max? My fader 'e say day're--" Mrs. Nox's shaking voice distracted Zahilla from trying to pin down the source of the new sent.

         "No, Kriana, I have not seen a dragon." Mr. Nox interrupted, "Dat's why I don't think one'll be sent."

         "I'll not stand 'ere an' wait. We must run."

         "We run, we'll ne're stop. Da king is a good man. His dragon won' hurt us."

         All at once, images of his mother came to mind. It's 'im, da man from da fire. No! Not again. I 'ave-- A rhythmic booming sound cut his thoughts short. E's come.

         "Max! Dose be dragon 'teps!"

         "No. We're here ta be sure he's not found."

         The booming got louder.

         "Drake's a dragon. 'E'll find 'im! Oh grandmother, ancestors, an' deir grandmothers be ready. We come ta join ye."

         It didn't take long for the booming to turn into a violent vibration. Zahilla whimpered uncontrollably and curled into a ball. He yipped with every vibration that threw his head into the wooden floor above him.

         "There no need for prayers. Our ancestors won' have us yet."

         Da ancestors aren't ready for dem. Leave us.

         As if it could hear his thoughts, the booming and vibrations stopped. With it, time stopped and Zahilla could not hear a sound. The baby next door had stopped crying, and no one so much as shuffled their feet. Even Kriana stopped mumbling her final prayers.

         Despite the silence, the smells screamed fear. It's goin ta 'appen again! He felt a warm liquid pool under his hind legs. Urine. He did not have time to think about it before the sound of splintering wood and Kriana's screams bombarded his sensitive ears.

         “Where is he?!” A new voice boomed over Kriana's screams. It's 'im!

         That voice took Zahilla back to the night of the fire. "The wet season in the mountains is not a place for a boy. With eyes like that no one will take you in!" He remembered the voice calling after him when he ran into the woods, his tail tucked between his legs.

         "Who? Dere isn't anyone here," Mr. Nox lied.

         "Do you think me a fool? That boy is an insult to the king!" The man growled and stomped his foot, breaking the boards above Zahilla's head.

         "He's a boy, Sir Drake. Have mercy. He knows not what vampire be. He's not a threat." Zahilla could see Mr. Nox silhouetted in the sunlight that beamed in through the huge hole in the wall the dragon had made.

         Dere's dat word again. What's a vampire?

         "Be silent! That boy will become a man, a man that Garos will want. That vampire scum IS a threat. With that boy Garos will start another war! YOU will be the blame for the deaths of hundreds of innocents. You would sacrifice them for a little boy?" Zahilla could see the shadow of a creature that looked like a large man with a long, spiked tail gesturing wildly.

         “Please sir, search da 'ouse. Dere isn't no boy 'ere,” Kriana pleaded.

         "You would betray your king?"

         "E's not 'ere. We've sent 'im away."

         "You have betrayed your King by letting that green-eyed son-of-a-demon escape!” He paused for a moment and sniffed the air. “Now you have blood on your hands. Do you know what our ancestors do to those who destroy an entire village?” He sniffed the air again. “I shall be swift, but your punishment will last an eternity!" The man's voice got deeper with every word.

         Neither Mr. Nox nor his wife had a chance to respond. Through the crack in the floor Zahilla saw a large green claw cut Mr. Nox's face into three pieces.

         “Max!” Mrs. Nox screamed when he collapsed inches away from Zahilla's face, blocking his view.

         The dragon creature ripped one of Max's eyes from its socket. He could not see where it had gone. Maybe the dragon ate it. The other eye looked down on Zahilla reflecting the terror of Max's last moments.

         Blood gushed from the gaping hole toward Zahilla, and filled up the space he huddled in. He tried to push himself away from the torrent but his little body couldn't move fast enough. The dirt below him turned into a sticky red muck and held him fast. I am going to drown down here!

         Above him he could hear the dragon laughing. Must escape!

         "As for you, the King may have use." It growled, hardly audible.

         “I'll be 'onored by me ancestors. Ye shall live an eternity of punishment!" Kriana shouted back at him.

         "Meet them now and find out for yourself."

         The sound of a powerful wind replied, and Zahilla could sense the distinct smell of burning flesh and wood. Must escape! He struggled for a few minutes but then gave up. I'm goin' ta me ancestors... Now Zahilla emitted that same smell, the smell of an animal that is finding a place to lie down and die. Least none else will go 'cause of me.

         The ground around him began to warm up and an orange light glowed between the slats in the floor. Flames licked across the walls and cooked the mud around Zahilla into a hard stone. It grabbed at his legs and sent searing pain up his spine. Then the Lagema grass doubled in size and covered him. I'm shrinking? The smell made him sick again and this time he could not hold down his vomit.

         Wonder whose ancestors'll take me, Zahilla thought while all of his senses fired at once. 'll dey accept me? The air hurt him and his eyes watered from the smells around him. It overwhelmed him and made him feel as if he would lose his mind. Then the ground beneath him tilted and swayed, and the orange light began to dim. Dis is it. Ancestors I'm here.