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.
