Born a Dragon – A Short Story
In dragon form she roamed the world, alone, feared and terrified. Cursed she had been cast from her home, by her father’s own men, and sent roaming the lands of Gryphon. She made use of her wings and flew east, past the great Sun Desert, until she landed at the edge of the Wastelands, the domain of dragons and the kingdom of Bram, their king. She stepped beneath the leafy shade of the forest, a slender, golden dragon with human eyes. That was where Bram found her and fell in love with her. He spoke to her in the common tongue. “Welcome to the Wastelands. Do you seek refuge here?”
“Yes, I came seeking King Bram. I need his help.”
“I am Bram.”
“I am Sinclair SunHawke, you know my family well.”
“SunHawke? What trick is this?”
“A cruel one, my lord. I am indeed descended from the great line of kings.”
“But how came you by this dragon’s form? SunHawkes, noble and great as they are, are only human.”
“I have been cursed, my Lord. An old crone cursed me to this form. I am truly a human maiden, though now I am trapped in the hideous form of a beast.”
“A worse beast you could be. But, I will help you all I can to regain your human form.”
“Thank you.”
“What manner of a spell did she use? A potion to eat or drink? A talisman?”
“No none of those. She cursed me with words.”
“Words?”
“Yes, she said, ‘To dragon’s form you are cursed, until unnatural life can set you free’.”
“There is no way to break a spoken curse until the thing it predicts has come to pass.”
“No! It can’t all be lost! I want to go home!”
“I’m sorry.”
Tears and prayers did not cure her. She continued seeking a way to break the curse, but though years and seasons passed, she remained a dragon. Bram had loved her from that first moment, but it took her much longer to listen to her heart. The moment she accepted that she loved him, her yearning to be human faded. What did it matter what form she was in now that she had found love? She became queen of dragons at Bram’s side and she had never been happier.
Then, like all dragons do, they mated and she could feel the surge of life in her womb. She turned to him, to kiss his face and share with him the joy she felt. But the spell had been broken, and she shrank, her wings and scales vanishing until she stood, a human woman in their marriage bed.
She screamed in agony. After ten years she had been granted freedom and all she wanted was a chance to stay with him. It was not meant to be. The magic used was stronger than their love and they each returned to their own worlds. He carried only his memory of her and she carried his son, the unnatural life that had set her free.
She returned to her home heartbroken and with child. Gryphon rejoiced and her father married her to one of his loyal knights. A man who did not care that she carried another man’s child, or that she did not love him. His service to his King through long years had been well rewarded. He had earned the throne and a princess for his bride.
She came to full term and gave birth in the middle of the night. The woman that attended her had seen a lot in her time, but what was birthed that night shook even her. It was a hard labor and as the last contraction passed the princess swooned, so she never saw what it was that she had borne or what the old woman did. No cries came from the birthing chamber, so all believed when they were told the child was stillborn.
No human child had been born, Sinclair SunHawke had given birth to a dragon’s egg. It shimmered with magic. The old woman looked at the sleeping princess, then breathless with greed, she wrapped the egg in her cloak and left the chamber. She ran out into the night.
She hurried through trees for hours, cringing as thunder roared and the wind shook the trees overhead. She held the egg close. Before her the trees spread and a clearing stood fenced by the forest. In its midst stood a small cottage. She rushed forward to seek shelter there when a bolt of lightning split the air and cut the tree behind her in half. It did not hurt, a sudden crushing weight, the earth against her face and the realization that she was dead.
A large dog darted forward, barking as the cottage door opened. The peasant who found her was frightened by the death, but it did not stop him from picking up the egg. He returned to the cottage to waken his wife.
She hurried to his side as he laid the egg on the table. He stirred up the fire and in the light the egg shimmered like a bundle of precious gems.
“What on earth can it be?” His wife asked.
“A jeweled egg.”
She placed a hand against the shimmering surface. “It’s warm. I don’t think it is treasure. It is something more.”
“Like what?” He grabbed a hammer and returned to the table.
“A dragon’s egg.”
He laughed. “Dragons are extinct.” He struck the egg with the hammer. The egg remained solid. He dropped the hammer with a curse. “It’s hard as stone!”
“Don’t harm it, Silas. I tell you it glows with magic.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Watch it; keep it warm until it is ready to hatch.”
He snorted his disgust.
She ignored him and lifted the egg into her arms. The moment she lifted it up it shattered like glass. The shell fell in a shower of colors, each piece turning into real gems. Emeralds, diamonds, rubies, sapphires, covering the floor wherever a speck of the shell touched. The woman stood speechless, starting not at the gems, but at the perfect human child in her arms.
They named him Drayco, because that was the month in which he was born. They raised him as their own and he should have been happy. But the woman died when he was ten and Silas, became cruel and bitter. Drayco lived a life of solitude, neglect and pain. Never knowing who his true parents were, or understanding why a dark secret grew inside of him.
He learned at a young age to mind his tongue and control his temper, but there were times he could not contain the rage that filled him. Fearing it, he kept to himself and sought his living tending Silas’ flock.
One day while the herd grazed a pack of winter starved wolves attacked. The sheep scattered, bleating in terror. Draycosnatched up his staff and wheeled on the wolves that threatened his herd. The wolves circled him and attacked, knocking him to the ground. Fangs pierced his shoulder. His wrath exploded in a flash and for long moments he saw nothing but red and blackness like one possessed. When the haze left him he still stood in the glade, dead wolves at his feet and the taste of blood in his mouth. He was trembling and he knew it had happened again. The demon that lived inside of him had broken free and blood now stained his hands. He found his cloak lying on the ground and he tied it around himself, hiding the scars from past encounters with his demon and the scales of red that ran down his spine. It was a curse and one he did not know how to break.
The wolves were dead, but the flock was lost, and though he spent the day and part of the night searching for them, he returned home without them to face Silas and the anger the man would direct at him.
Silas met him on the porch. “Where is my flock?”
“There were wolves-” The words had not cleared his lips when Silas struck him. He felt the stirrings of the demon as it woke. Silas hit him again and no matter how badly he wanted to fight back he could not. The moment he let loose his anger the demon would be free and he would kill Silas.
Instead Drayco walked away. He walked to the stream, waded in and plunged his hands beneath the icy surface. He cupped up some water and splashed it on his face. He could not hold it in anymore. All his pain and frustration came out in a shout that lengthened into a roar as the demon was freed and he became the crimson dragon that was his curse. When the rage passed he was once more a human man kneeling in the water, shaken by how much he enjoyed the moments when he released the inner beast. He hated that it felt good to spread the great, leathery wings and flex the razor sharp talons.
He stood alone in the water, long after the demon slumbered and there under the moonlight he decided he had to leave. He left from there, with only the clothes on his back. He had always known Silas was not his real father and though he feared to unleash the dragon on the world, he knew he had to find out who he was and where he had come from. He would head north to Beyond where there were wizards and seers, those who could tell him the mysteries of his curse and who it was who had birthed him. Surely he could not be the only person that held a dragon inside?
For a week he walked, living off the land, avoiding people when he could, hearing rumors when he did pass through towns of dark riders who hunted any being who was not fully human at the order of the SunHawke king. He planned to avoid them on his journey north, but in a town just at the edges of the Golden Valley they found him, arresting him and many others on suspicion of witchcraft. He was loaded with the rest into a cart, shackled to a stooped blind man. He was turned from the north, and taken west to the coast of Gryphon and cast into the dungeons of Astolet to be held for trial.
The next morning he was drug before the king, Roland Trulaye, who held the honorary title of SunHawke through his marriage to Sinclair SunHawke. He was to be judged, his fate decided on the word of the sorceress the king held on iron chains at the foot of his throne. The sorceress was a pale, slender woman, with sunken cheeks and eyes like one already dead. It was she who would look into the hearts of the suspected non-humans. She would pass judgment, thus sparing her own life.
Drayco was drug forward and forced to his knees. He was afraid to look into the woman’s eyes, scared she would see the secret he had hidden all his life. She moved forward and he could hear the slither of the iron chain as she approached. Her fingers curled into his dark hair and drug his head back. She looked into his eyes, her own as white and lifeless as a corpse’s. She saw in his eyes what he knew she would. She released him and stepped back with a shriek. She had seen the beast, but more than that she had seen the truth of his lineage and the purpose for his birth. In him was the death of the king and the rebirth of the SunHawke name.
“What is it, witch?” The king demanded.
The sorceress crawled the distance to the king, like some fawning hound, her hands and face pressing against the hem of his royal robes. “He is death, my lord. Dragon’s breath, fire, scales, clothed in human form.”
Behind the king, no one saw how the queen went pale at the words. Her hands moved instinctively to her stomach, where she had once held life, unnatural life born of human woman and dragon male. Could this be? Could her child have survived into this man who knelt before her?
The king looked at Drayco, “Kill him with the rest.”
“No!” The queen rushed forward to place her hands on her husband’s knee in supplication. “Please. I know this man.”
“He is an abomination, how do you know him?”
She looked from her husband to Drayco, than back. Her voice was very low when she spoke. “He is my son.”
“Your son died at birth.”
“Please.”
The king shoved the lady away. “Take him away, kill him with the rest.”
The queen knelt on the ground and watched as the child she had lost once was drug away to his death.
Drayco was cast into a dark cell, with only the blind man whom he had traveled with for company. The old man tilted his head when he heard Drayco’s entrance and when the guards had left he spoke.
“You wish to know the truth?”
Drayco looked at him, feeling for the first time the power that was there in the old man. “Do you know the truth?”
“I may be blind, but I see much.”
“Then tell me the truth.”
“There is a price for such knowledge.”
“What price?”
“Your human life.”
He shrank back, but even in the face of death he was tempted by the truth. The old man knew that and waited patiently until at last Drayco came to kneel before him. “What must I do?”
“Dream.” The old man touched the palm of his hand against Drayco’s forehead and Drayco felt the world around him spin.
He rushed forward into darkness, while inside the dragon screamed and tried to claw its way free. He held it back, even as the darkness claimed him, he held it inside and his denial of self weakened him. The spinning stopped and he slowly opened his eyes. He was in darkness still, but no longer in his cell. He looked around and found he was not alone, standing in a passage way where shadows shifted and mist scurried over his feet like a live thing. The old man stood before him, but his body was straight and his eyes burned like blue flames in his face.
He pointed a long hand down the corridor. “The truth you seek is down this hall, but you will not reach it as a man. You must become the beast.”
“I can’t. If I release it, I will never control it again. It will be free; it will kill and destroy the world.”
“That is what you fear. That is the price you must pay for the truth.”
Drayco hesitated, he would not release the dragon, instead he walked alone down the corridor with walls shrinking around him, still holding the dragon inside, though he could feel its claws scratching at his guts. Each step he took, the weight of the demon inside increased, his breathing became labored and hard, the air colder, the walls more narrow. He knew he was dying, the same way he knew the old man was right and the dragon was the only thing that could save him. He pushed on, the cold seeping into his bones now and pushed through darkness that clung to him with greedy fingers until he stood atop a wide plateau surrounded by shadows that had faces and the low voices of the damned.
Before him stood a fountain, frozen solid so that its surface was a mirror. He approached and saw his own face reflected back at him. A face that as he watched changed into a dragon’s. The air was colder now and he felt a presence. He looked up into a face made of ice, perfect and flawless and alive. A voice spoke but the mouth remained immobile and perfect.
“You were born for great things, Drayco, to take back the throne that has been stolen. Roland Trulaye will destroy Gryphon in his quest to destroy its magic. Magic is the blood of Gryphon and without it, we all will end.”
“I am nothing but a shepherd.”
“Even you know that is a lie.”
“Then what am I?”
“The son of man, the son of dragon, the son of kings.”
“I am an orphan, cursed, alone, hated.”
“Look and see what you are.”
He looked again into the ice of the fountain; saw in it the images of two dragons, one golden, one iridescent and bright. He watched as they embraced with wings and tails, watched as the golden one shrank into the form of a woman. Watched her tears and how she walked away. He watched as the other dragon wept in a lonely cave. The ice shimmered and he watched as the woman became a bride and gave birth to a dragon’s egg, watched how the egg was stolen and watched how the woman wept inconsolably for the child of the dragon she had loved. He recognized her face; she was the queen he had seen kneeling at the king’s feet, begging for his life. She was his mother and his father had been a beast, a dragon and that was what he held inside. How could he be both man and dragon?
The voice was a cold chime in his ears. “You are descended from two lines of kings. It is not your place to die in a cage. Embrace all of yourself and save us. Save Gryphon from Roland.”
“I can’t. If I release the dragon, I cannot call him back. He will rule me and I will be no more.”
“He is you. You are him. The dragon is what you are. You are power and strength, man and beast. Do not fear your power. It will only destroy you if you deny it. Already you can feel it as it tries to claw its way free. Why do you deny what you are? Release the dragon and be free.”
He felt the dragon stir, felt the fire of its breath, but he would not release it and woke on the cold floor of a prison cell. He feared what he had seen, but he feared the dragon most of all.
He would be killed the next morning, he and all those who sat and wept around him. Sacrificed to feed the hunger of a king who used their magic to gain immortality. The dragon growled and struggled inside of him, but he was afraid to let it go. If it took over, changed his flesh, would he still be himself?
That night he dreamed of flying, high above the clouds, the wind beneath the dark wings and fire burning in his chest. His thoughts were his, and freedom and power were at his command.
In the morning he was drug out into the bright sunlight, marched to where the executioner waited with axe in hand. He watched as the first victim was drug forward, she was a just a child, she was terrified, screaming and he realized that it wasn’t just his life he risked. All of them would die, and all he had to do, was surrender his humanity. Sacrifice himself and save his world. Her screams filled the morning, and then there were hundreds of screams and above it all, the deep throated roar as he let the dragon loose.
Scales spread over his skin, red as flames, fire burst from his lungs and he mounted into the sky on wide black wings. He scattered the crowds, chased away the dark riders and swooped high until he landed on the wide patio where the king stood. The king raised his hands, to call on all the magic he had stolen and Drayco let loose the fire inside. Flames enveloped the king, his screaming high and desperate. He fell from the balcony and Drayco turned to watch him fall. The king was dead, the courtyard in chaos and only one person stood to face the fearsome dragon. Sinclair SunHawke reached out her hand and touched the warm red scales.
“I prayed for you to be alive.” She whispered and where her hand touched the scales receded until her son stood before her, a man once more.
She wrapped a cloak around his shoulders, placed the fallen crown upon his head and led him out to face the crowds. She had her freedom at last. She had her son and he now held his rightful throne. Her voice was high and filled with joy. “The king is dead. The SunHawke name lives on in my son. Gryphon, welcome your king.”
Drayco stood before her and looked down at his hands. The man he was had died, the dragon he feared, tamed, man and beast were one. The fire he could still feel burning inside of him, but he did not fear its touch. He feared nothing now; he had flown above the clouds and finally returned to his home.
