Damiynn
Fantasy Author
Chapter 2
White light exploded as the golden words faded in his head. The dragon’s eye began pulsing, hypnotically, a bright red. It took him a moment before he realized, the stone was no longer cold. It was warm, heat tingled through his fingertips. It felt. . . it felt like a beating heart. As if the light had a mind of its own, it began moving about him. Slowly it changed from white into a myriad of swirling colored tendrils that wrapped about his body.
Covered in the glowing nimbus, Micah felt pressure on his skin, like a comforting caress or a soft tickle.
Suddenly everything changed. The light closed about him. The caressing tendrils locked on his body with an iron hard grip that became a jerk. It felt like a thousand hands had grabbed him, all at the same time. Fighting off the wave of fear flooding through him, he tried removing his hand from the dragon’s eye. He couldn’t do it. Desperately he fought, pulling with all his might but it was as if the two were locked together. Eyes widening, his arm felt like it was going to tear out of his shoulder but his hand still wouldn’t come free. The wave of fear changed to ice as the dragon’s eye began to grow larger.
Everything became indistinct. The blinding blur of scintillating colors enveloped him from head to toe. The last thing he remembered was the light turning the same blood red as the stone before everything faded away.
Groaning, Micah ripped his hand free. Pain twisted his face and it felt like he was tearing his insides out, breaking a connection inside his body.
The redstone didn’t look a stone anymore. It looked like an eye, a large yellow one, at least the size of his head.
Frozen, Micah watched incredulously as it rotated. Slowly a cat-like pupil came into view and a reddish pebbled lid closed, blinking.
Throwing himself backwards, he stumbled, knowing unconsciously, he should have crashed over the top of his couch, but it wasn’t there. Landing hard on rough hewn stone, Micah scrambled away, seeking a means of escape until his head hit a hard wall. Swimming specks of light exploded in front of his eyes. Shaking his head, he tried removing the swirling image.
The lights faded but the image didn’t.
“What the he…!” His voice trailed off into wordless silence. Eyes widening, his jaw dropped, disbelief etched on his face. A gigantic shape filled a large room, a different room, one a lot bigger than his small apartment.
Fighting down a wave of panic, he slowly moved his eyes down a massive serpentine body covered in scales the color of dried blood. Bony white spikes ran down a ridgeline forming a neck and back that ended in a long tail. Large, leathery wings were folded close to the creature’s sides.
Head swinging sharply back around, Micah focused his wide eyed gaze on a giant maw, a gaping thing filled with teeth the size of glittering daggers. Two bright, yellow eyes stared back at him. A look of furious hatred burned in them, chilling his soul. He had seen that type of hatred before, it had burned in the eyes of the teenager’s parents for months inside of the courtroom.
The creature’s expression changed and somehow, he knew although it was angry, it also looked disgusted.
It’s not possible. It can’t be! Micah scrubbed at his eyes with his fingertips, trying to force himself out of the dream he was in this time, trying to do something that would force him back to reality. Dragons don’t exist! They aren’t real!
Dragons, like those in his father’s stupid stories, existed only in fairy tales and his father had been diagnosed as mad.
Micah had given up on believing in them when he was a child, after his father had betrayed him and had been locked away in the sanitarium. Irrationally, his mind focused on a morbid thought as he stared at the dagger-like rows of teeth. Why isn’t it trying to eat me?
Glancing at the scaly dragon’s body, he saw manacles and golden chains as thick as his legs clamped to its clawed feet, holding them in place. Squinting, Micah saw strange writing engraved on the chains in a cursive flowing script. Looking upwards, a low ceiling kept the beast from unfurling its gigantic leathery wings.
I must be dreaming. This can’t be real! I fell asleep staring at that silly stone, thinking about my deranged father and now I’m having another damn dragon dream.
The dreams had been plaguing his sleep off and on for years, unsettling visions that began with war and were filled with death and always included this giant red dragon. Instead of moving out of the massive beast range, he recklessly started walking towards it. If it is a dream, it can’t hurt me. If it does, I will wake up, like every other time, safe in my bed. I have to stop drinking so much. This can’t be real!
Standing next to the golden chains and collecting his thoughts, Micah heard a rasping scrape. The dragon’s wedge shaped head followed his progress. In spite of its large size, the dragon moved with a deadly grace that fascinated the eye. Momentarily their eyes met, the dragon’s malevolent stare and piercing look made Micah feel as if the beast was trying to see into his soul. Panic wormed through him, cutting a hole through his insides.
Even if this is another damn dream, that thing is frightening.
Taking in several deep breaths, he bent low examining the chains. A tingling sensation crept through his body as his eyes followed the flowing script. Scrubbing his hands across his forearms, an itch was crawling across his skin. Slowly, he reached out towards the golden surface. The strange writing began glowing and the itch increased till it almost felt like a kitten’s claws raking him.
A voice behind him rumbled, filling the room with a raspy snarl. “If you can feel the magic in my chains without touching them, then I wouldn’t advise doing that.”
Jerking his hand back, Micah spun, eyes wide with astonishment. “You can talk?” He demanded. Never in any of his dragon dreams had it spoken.
Drawing back its massive head as if slapped, the dragon growled, its voice dripping acid, “Of course I can talk! Stupid human!”
Rolling its yellow eyes irritably, it answered, an angry edge in its voice, “I always forget, despite your years, how ignorant you men of the blood are when you first come over. Well, usually that changes, but for you since it has been so long, I doubt it. You probably will not live long enough.” This last part came out in a low hiss, almost as if the beast didn’t expect Micah to hear, but the words echoed in his ears like a distant thunder.
“What is it?” asked Micah, looking at the chains and the glowing script, his lips curling in derision, not really caring for the beasts tone. “Magic?” Scoffing, he glanced back at the dragon, “magic’s not real. Dragon’s aren’t real and I don’t believe in fairy tales!” This last part came out as a croak as the dragon suddenly lifted a clawed foot as far as the chain would let it and pointed a long white talon at him.
“If you don’t believe Man of the Blood, go ahead, touch them.” An ominous smile twisted the dragon’s lips. Its grin of glittering teeth caused an icy shiver to crawl down his spine.
“But,” it waggled the claw ominously, “they're powerful enough to hold me.”
Again, Micah swept his eyes down the massive scaled body, rippling with muscle. His smirk faded into a wan smile. Slowly dropping his hand back to his side, doubt filled him and again he glanced about uneasily at his surroundings.
Stone walls and flagstones. Magical Chains. His gaze fell on the beast. A dragon. Mumbling shakily, he half whispered, “W..where the hell am I?”
“Humans call this Illanor. Although Man of the Blood, I doubt you will find any here willing to welcome you!” Micah heard bitter contempt covering the hard edge of the dragon’s words. With a click of teeth, it savagely snapped out, in a low, angry, snarl, “Most, humans and dragons would probably be grateful to see you dead! They would probably prefer you that way now!” The venomous glare that followed drove him backwards a few steps.
Glancing about sharply, Micah said, “Illanor doesn’t exist.” Then realizing what else he had heard, he blurted out before he could stop himself, raised his hands as if warding off a blow, “What? Why? That’s crazy! I haven’t done anything to anyone. A low, chiding, voice in his head whispered, at least not to anyone here you haven’t. Crushing the chiding voice with a mental fist he said, trying to soothe his conscious, I have done my duties and look where that got me. Could this dream creature know why I’m not allowed to be a police officer anymore? Why I got out of the military? Pushing those thoughts aside, he stated accusingly, “According to you, I just got here.”
The dragon’s wedge shaped head snapped down in a blur of red. Before Micah could blink they were eye to eye, barely an inch between them. The snarling maw filled his vision and hot breath washed over him. Feet frozen to the stone floor, he tried moving but stark terror held him, encasing his bones in ice, denying him the will.
Its voice tinged with creeping menace, the dragon nudged him with the tip of its scaly nose, knocking him back a few steps, hissing, “That’ss right Man of the Blood, you did nothing!”
Micah jumped. The dragon’s long teeth came together in a vicious snap, inches from his nose.
“You didn’t wear the medallion like you were supposed to.” The long teeth snapped together again. “You didn’t answer the summons when you were called for nine years ago!” The teeth came together even closer to him this time. “You didn’t come to help stop the wars ravaging Illanor.” Mica felt the growl coming out from between its teeth push his hair back away from his face. “You didn’t do your duty Man of the blood! Because of that thousands of humans and dragons have died all because you did nothing!”
Like a whip’s lash, the dragon’s hissing words cut through the air. Micah found himself flinching, as if each were hitting him. He jumped in shocked surprise as the dragon’s spiny tail came down with a resounding crack, the stone shuddered under his feet.
A look of undisguised scorn lit the dragon’s yellow eyes. “After the Griega came, led by the returned Al’sonar, only a few dragons and dragonlords escaped his purge. Not many and probably not enough to matter. The dragonlords waited, they wouldn’t do anything at first, not without you here to lead them, especially not against Al’sonar. Instead they called on hope, they called for you! You were supposed to answer the summons. You were supposed to come and lead them.”
The dragon’s horned head swept out over the chains holding it, then snapped back in front of him with a speed that made him flinch. Bitterness crept into its voice, sadness filled its eyes as it growled accusingly, “And I have been a prisoner, trapped in these chains for almost nine years unable to help or save anyone from those deaths, all because, again, you did nothing!”
Micah leapt sideways, narrowly dodging a jet of flame shooting out from the dragon’s nostrils. At the end of the tirade, he heard the dragon’s anger fade. Shaking its horned head, its large eyes met his with a look of sorrowful remorse. “We should have been there to save them Man of the Blood. We were supposed to protect them. Now almost all have died. The great cities have been burned to blackened ash and the skeletons of dead dragons litter the land. Most of the Dragonlords are gone and the people of Illanor have been defeated. All of this occurred because you did not answer the summons when called. A land has been destroyed all cause you neglected your duty and did nothing.”
White light exploded as the golden words faded in his head. The dragon’s eye began pulsing, hypnotically, a bright red. It took him a moment before he realized, the stone was no longer cold. It was warm, heat tingled through his fingertips. It felt. . . it felt like a beating heart. As if the light had a mind of its own, it began moving about him. Slowly it changed from white into a myriad of swirling colored tendrils that wrapped about his body.
Covered in the glowing nimbus, Micah felt pressure on his skin, like a comforting caress or a soft tickle.
Suddenly everything changed. The light closed about him. The caressing tendrils locked on his body with an iron hard grip that became a jerk. It felt like a thousand hands had grabbed him, all at the same time. Fighting off the wave of fear flooding through him, he tried removing his hand from the dragon’s eye. He couldn’t do it. Desperately he fought, pulling with all his might but it was as if the two were locked together. Eyes widening, his arm felt like it was going to tear out of his shoulder but his hand still wouldn’t come free. The wave of fear changed to ice as the dragon’s eye began to grow larger.
Everything became indistinct. The blinding blur of scintillating colors enveloped him from head to toe. The last thing he remembered was the light turning the same blood red as the stone before everything faded away.
Groaning, Micah ripped his hand free. Pain twisted his face and it felt like he was tearing his insides out, breaking a connection inside his body.
The redstone didn’t look a stone anymore. It looked like an eye, a large yellow one, at least the size of his head.
Frozen, Micah watched incredulously as it rotated. Slowly a cat-like pupil came into view and a reddish pebbled lid closed, blinking.
Throwing himself backwards, he stumbled, knowing unconsciously, he should have crashed over the top of his couch, but it wasn’t there. Landing hard on rough hewn stone, Micah scrambled away, seeking a means of escape until his head hit a hard wall. Swimming specks of light exploded in front of his eyes. Shaking his head, he tried removing the swirling image.
The lights faded but the image didn’t.
“What the he…!” His voice trailed off into wordless silence. Eyes widening, his jaw dropped, disbelief etched on his face. A gigantic shape filled a large room, a different room, one a lot bigger than his small apartment.
Fighting down a wave of panic, he slowly moved his eyes down a massive serpentine body covered in scales the color of dried blood. Bony white spikes ran down a ridgeline forming a neck and back that ended in a long tail. Large, leathery wings were folded close to the creature’s sides.
Head swinging sharply back around, Micah focused his wide eyed gaze on a giant maw, a gaping thing filled with teeth the size of glittering daggers. Two bright, yellow eyes stared back at him. A look of furious hatred burned in them, chilling his soul. He had seen that type of hatred before, it had burned in the eyes of the teenager’s parents for months inside of the courtroom.
The creature’s expression changed and somehow, he knew although it was angry, it also looked disgusted.
It’s not possible. It can’t be! Micah scrubbed at his eyes with his fingertips, trying to force himself out of the dream he was in this time, trying to do something that would force him back to reality. Dragons don’t exist! They aren’t real!
Dragons, like those in his father’s stupid stories, existed only in fairy tales and his father had been diagnosed as mad.
Micah had given up on believing in them when he was a child, after his father had betrayed him and had been locked away in the sanitarium. Irrationally, his mind focused on a morbid thought as he stared at the dagger-like rows of teeth. Why isn’t it trying to eat me?
Glancing at the scaly dragon’s body, he saw manacles and golden chains as thick as his legs clamped to its clawed feet, holding them in place. Squinting, Micah saw strange writing engraved on the chains in a cursive flowing script. Looking upwards, a low ceiling kept the beast from unfurling its gigantic leathery wings.
I must be dreaming. This can’t be real! I fell asleep staring at that silly stone, thinking about my deranged father and now I’m having another damn dragon dream.
The dreams had been plaguing his sleep off and on for years, unsettling visions that began with war and were filled with death and always included this giant red dragon. Instead of moving out of the massive beast range, he recklessly started walking towards it. If it is a dream, it can’t hurt me. If it does, I will wake up, like every other time, safe in my bed. I have to stop drinking so much. This can’t be real!
Standing next to the golden chains and collecting his thoughts, Micah heard a rasping scrape. The dragon’s wedge shaped head followed his progress. In spite of its large size, the dragon moved with a deadly grace that fascinated the eye. Momentarily their eyes met, the dragon’s malevolent stare and piercing look made Micah feel as if the beast was trying to see into his soul. Panic wormed through him, cutting a hole through his insides.
Even if this is another damn dream, that thing is frightening.
Taking in several deep breaths, he bent low examining the chains. A tingling sensation crept through his body as his eyes followed the flowing script. Scrubbing his hands across his forearms, an itch was crawling across his skin. Slowly, he reached out towards the golden surface. The strange writing began glowing and the itch increased till it almost felt like a kitten’s claws raking him.
A voice behind him rumbled, filling the room with a raspy snarl. “If you can feel the magic in my chains without touching them, then I wouldn’t advise doing that.”
Jerking his hand back, Micah spun, eyes wide with astonishment. “You can talk?” He demanded. Never in any of his dragon dreams had it spoken.
Drawing back its massive head as if slapped, the dragon growled, its voice dripping acid, “Of course I can talk! Stupid human!”
Rolling its yellow eyes irritably, it answered, an angry edge in its voice, “I always forget, despite your years, how ignorant you men of the blood are when you first come over. Well, usually that changes, but for you since it has been so long, I doubt it. You probably will not live long enough.” This last part came out in a low hiss, almost as if the beast didn’t expect Micah to hear, but the words echoed in his ears like a distant thunder.
“What is it?” asked Micah, looking at the chains and the glowing script, his lips curling in derision, not really caring for the beasts tone. “Magic?” Scoffing, he glanced back at the dragon, “magic’s not real. Dragon’s aren’t real and I don’t believe in fairy tales!” This last part came out as a croak as the dragon suddenly lifted a clawed foot as far as the chain would let it and pointed a long white talon at him.
“If you don’t believe Man of the Blood, go ahead, touch them.” An ominous smile twisted the dragon’s lips. Its grin of glittering teeth caused an icy shiver to crawl down his spine.
“But,” it waggled the claw ominously, “they're powerful enough to hold me.”
Again, Micah swept his eyes down the massive scaled body, rippling with muscle. His smirk faded into a wan smile. Slowly dropping his hand back to his side, doubt filled him and again he glanced about uneasily at his surroundings.
Stone walls and flagstones. Magical Chains. His gaze fell on the beast. A dragon. Mumbling shakily, he half whispered, “W..where the hell am I?”
“Humans call this Illanor. Although Man of the Blood, I doubt you will find any here willing to welcome you!” Micah heard bitter contempt covering the hard edge of the dragon’s words. With a click of teeth, it savagely snapped out, in a low, angry, snarl, “Most, humans and dragons would probably be grateful to see you dead! They would probably prefer you that way now!” The venomous glare that followed drove him backwards a few steps.
Glancing about sharply, Micah said, “Illanor doesn’t exist.” Then realizing what else he had heard, he blurted out before he could stop himself, raised his hands as if warding off a blow, “What? Why? That’s crazy! I haven’t done anything to anyone. A low, chiding, voice in his head whispered, at least not to anyone here you haven’t. Crushing the chiding voice with a mental fist he said, trying to soothe his conscious, I have done my duties and look where that got me. Could this dream creature know why I’m not allowed to be a police officer anymore? Why I got out of the military? Pushing those thoughts aside, he stated accusingly, “According to you, I just got here.”
The dragon’s wedge shaped head snapped down in a blur of red. Before Micah could blink they were eye to eye, barely an inch between them. The snarling maw filled his vision and hot breath washed over him. Feet frozen to the stone floor, he tried moving but stark terror held him, encasing his bones in ice, denying him the will.
Its voice tinged with creeping menace, the dragon nudged him with the tip of its scaly nose, knocking him back a few steps, hissing, “That’ss right Man of the Blood, you did nothing!”
Micah jumped. The dragon’s long teeth came together in a vicious snap, inches from his nose.
“You didn’t wear the medallion like you were supposed to.” The long teeth snapped together again. “You didn’t answer the summons when you were called for nine years ago!” The teeth came together even closer to him this time. “You didn’t come to help stop the wars ravaging Illanor.” Mica felt the growl coming out from between its teeth push his hair back away from his face. “You didn’t do your duty Man of the blood! Because of that thousands of humans and dragons have died all because you did nothing!”
Like a whip’s lash, the dragon’s hissing words cut through the air. Micah found himself flinching, as if each were hitting him. He jumped in shocked surprise as the dragon’s spiny tail came down with a resounding crack, the stone shuddered under his feet.
A look of undisguised scorn lit the dragon’s yellow eyes. “After the Griega came, led by the returned Al’sonar, only a few dragons and dragonlords escaped his purge. Not many and probably not enough to matter. The dragonlords waited, they wouldn’t do anything at first, not without you here to lead them, especially not against Al’sonar. Instead they called on hope, they called for you! You were supposed to answer the summons. You were supposed to come and lead them.”
The dragon’s horned head swept out over the chains holding it, then snapped back in front of him with a speed that made him flinch. Bitterness crept into its voice, sadness filled its eyes as it growled accusingly, “And I have been a prisoner, trapped in these chains for almost nine years unable to help or save anyone from those deaths, all because, again, you did nothing!”
Micah leapt sideways, narrowly dodging a jet of flame shooting out from the dragon’s nostrils. At the end of the tirade, he heard the dragon’s anger fade. Shaking its horned head, its large eyes met his with a look of sorrowful remorse. “We should have been there to save them Man of the Blood. We were supposed to protect them. Now almost all have died. The great cities have been burned to blackened ash and the skeletons of dead dragons litter the land. Most of the Dragonlords are gone and the people of Illanor have been defeated. All of this occurred because you did not answer the summons when called. A land has been destroyed all cause you neglected your duty and did nothing.”
