(Rewrite)Snowed: The Weekend Trip

Standard

The station light snow-a composite

Evidence photo 1-a, 24821 Spicer Dam Spur Road

(Note: This was published a few years ago, I opened it and facepalmed.  This is a rework of it. The story is the same, just grammar has been adjusted for clarity and attempts to increase the emotional content.)

 

Snowed: The Weekend Trip

 

 

Jason Best Ph.D. took another swallow from the old whiskey bottle while he pulled on the wrench as he struggled to remove the cap that protected the fill valve.

The cabin, originally constructed during the California Gold Rush. The heavy timber construction was built over an entrance of a horizontal mine that produced small amounts of gold. It functioned as the home of the elderly prospector who continually mined underneath his home until he died and ownership passed, eventually, to Jason.

In the construction style of the era, the first owner built the cabin’s foundation out of charred cedar logs on bedrock. The foundation held up better than the modern versions. Remodeled twice, the one-floor abode grew into a split-level, two and a half story mountain home with a hot spring. Built during the Reagan administration, the steam generator used isobutane in the heat exchanger.

Leaks in the plumbing lost much of the volatile gas in the system. Checked and rechecked, he found the valve seal that charged heat exchanger had failed. It Appeared to have been screwed down too tight and the seal developed a slow leak that took a toll over the years. This had the gradual effect of power generation down to zero.

The Doctor studied the concepts of the hot spring and geothermal sources and Jason taught himself enough to rebuild the system, updating the electrical system in the cabin that he called “Mountain House.”

After a few moments when he had his doubts of success, the cap gave stubborn creaks as it turned until it was loose enough for him to spin it off with his hand. The threads were in good shape, however, the rubber seal was in bad shape. Cracked and falling apart.

He used the special tool he’d tracked down over the internet to a company that dealt with replacement parts and shipped to him at his house in the city and brought it to Mountain House to rebuild the power system.

While he performed an upgrade in the of the house, Jason accidentally discovered a room below the house. What started as a simple fusebox on a half-rotted board was all the more useful when he knocked a hole in the wall, and discovered to his pleasure, a hidden space carved out of the bedrock. He took full advantage and turned it into a room that an electrical engineer would be delighted to call home.

As an added plus, the room was a wine-cellar of sorts. Stored on dusty shelves in the cool corners of the dark, were bottles of wine. Many he had found dated from just before the prohibition era, two-dozen were stored on their sides.

A few sat upright with the corks exposed, he found these corks to be dried and leaking. Nine out of ten bottle seals failed in that position and he didn’t want to try them.

But!

Those bottles, laying on their sides, were all intact. But with so few, Jason opened only one and tasted its treasure inside.

And it was excellent.

A greater discovery, however, was a treasure-trove of rye whiskey. With labels marked “Robert’s Rye” and each onion-shaped flask had a layer of rye-seeds on the bottom.

As he drank the potent brew, he conjectured that the rye grains left in the bottom were the reason that the rye whiskey was so excellent. And he had a hundred bottles with seals intact.

He drank half of the bottle of the rare and potent nectar and each sip was even better than the previous, but he was getting hungry and the whiskey had gone to his head a bit. But first he was going to recharge the heat-exchanger.

He tightened the hose to the rebuilt valve and turned the handle, he watched the cylinder’s gauge indicate the system pressure.

A delicious smell of food reached his nose. Doctor Tessa Pershing clanked about in the kitchen as she prepared the meal.  She was his colleague from the university, they had dated each other outside of work for a few weeks, but Tessa worried about being caught. She didn’t have tenure yet and didn’t want to jeopardize her position and future, so they kept it quiet and only with close friends.

But here, with the whiskey, wine, and snow so heavy, no one would come by. The storm was dropping four inches of snow per hour on top of the six-feet of the cold white stuff that was already there when he had arrived.

When he drove up two days before, Jason dragged, cussed and pushed the big gas cylinder through the deep snow to the basement door.

Now his efforts of sweat, profanity and bruised knuckles paid off. The hiss of gas subsided and system now showed green lights and the sweep needle gauge indicated the system was full.

Electric power was now available.

He put down the craftsman wrench. The best thing that Tessa thought to buy him in a kit. He walked to the electric panel and read the displays. Lights blinked and flickered as electricity flowed through new wiring in the panel and the house. Everything was green.

He wondered what might go wrong. It was too smooth. Nothing ever went that smooth unless it was broken.

The Professor of Biochemistry laughed at himself. With the power running, he had the good fortune to turn on the hot-tub on the patio. Tessa and he could sip ninety year old whiskey, sit in the bubbling warm water and watch the snowstorm, safe warm and naked.

Maybe they might get a clearing and watch the stars during the night. Then he’d shower with her and, he hoped, sleep with his arms around her.

“Dinner’s ready.” She called down.

“I have a surprise for you up there!” He said, waited a heartbeat and threw the circuit breaker and energized the system.

The exterior of the house lit up.

LED rope lights he had hidden in the eaves over the last few weeks, illuminated.

The lights gave the optical effect of electronic icicles and made the snow appear to glow blue.

It was breathtaking.

Tessa walked around with just a light work shirt and looked out the window in amazement.  She had complained that a bra was too uncomfortable to wear while she did lifted and helped him clean the debris of new construction and century old corners that had not been touched. So she had disposed of the constricting undergarment.

Which was fine in Jason’s point of view. With an oversized sleeveless shirt, sometimes he would get lucky and watch her accidentally flash him. Her bare legs were smudged and dust-covered while she wore shorts and slip-on flats.

He sat down with a bowl the chicken soup and warm bread that had baked all day. Tess and Jason used his grandmother’s recipe that the elderly woman had taught him in his childhood.

In a conversation about the house, he apologized for making her work when she should have been relaxing and enjoying the sights.

Tessa smiled brightly and touched his lips with a warm kiss. “Helping set up the cabin with you is my pleasure.”

He nearly passed out from the thrill of her words and the touch of her lips right then.

They could hear sounds from the upstairs bedroom, the walls echoed with a rhythmic thump as the other couple had gone to organize the rebuilt Mountain House.

Doctor Lettie Hackett and her rebound boyfriend, Kevin Acker, a post-graduate from the School of Pharmacy, were not coming down the stairs for food.

Jason yelled up the stairs for them to give it a break. They were supposed to be setting up the bedrooms, not testing the beds in each one.

That was when the first scream sounded. A sound,like a gunshot, echoed throughout the cabin.

Jason jumped up and left Tessa at the table while he ran up the stairs, taking them three at a time. At the top he ran into the arms of the half-naked Dr. Hackett who screamed that the wallpaper had come to life. Tentacles grabbed at her and tore her clothes while Kevin fought the sticky appendages to save her.  

“It sucked him in!” She screamed. “It sucked him in! The wallpaper grabbed Kevin! It sucked him in!” The voice of the calm doctor was a squeak of hysteria.

Jason sent her down the stairs and looked into the room. Underneath the paper, a silhouette of a man moved slowly, as if some crazed worker plastered over an unfortunate person who stood in the way.

Jason grabbed a putty knife out of a plastic bucket to cut the paper-covered Kevin out. The colored wallpaper began to show details of Kevin’s form behind the branches and birds, as if he were on the other side of a multi-colored hedge.

Jason called Kevin’s name and the young associate professor of pharmacology looked at him for a moment, then faded into the wallpaper. Leaving it as flat and perfect as if just placed by professionals and left Jason with no place to cut.

But he tried anyway. He sliced and slashed over the area where he saw Kevin under the paper, but all he found was wall. Kevin was no longer discernible among the branches and trees of the wallpaper, he was gone.

Screams again, downstairs. Jason sprinted the short hallway, and leaped down the stairs. Tessa was at the door, her eyes bulged in abject terror as if she saw moving shadows in the corners. The muffled sounds of screams coming from a lump in fresh wallpaper. The scene was a horror with Lettie’s hands were sticking straight out from the wallpaper. The textures and colors of the wallpaper crawled up the length of her arms towards her fingers while she waved about in the futile effort to grab for something, anything, for rescue.

Jason slashed at the paper with the sharp corner of the putty knife they used to spackle the walls for new paper.

A high-pitched sound came from the wallpaper, a scream louder than the screams of the women came from the cuts. It sounded as the Jason slashed at the wallpaper with the sharp corner of the metal blade of the putty knife.

Lettie screamed that the wallpaper was haunted.

The wallpaper? Jason froze, slack-jawed. He could not accept it, but it moved like something alive. It tried to pull Lettie into a growing wrinkle that looked like…

It looked like a mouth! Just like it did with Kevin. The wallpaper had a hunger.

He grabbed his coworker by her left arm and pulled hard on her, using his right foot to stomp the wallpaper flat against the wall, and tore it away from Lettie’s body.

Traces of wallpaper paste remained on Lettie after he freed her and pulled her into his arms, he didn’t stop to consider the slime. They ran towards the the front door where Tessa screamed at them to hurry.

Without warning, the door slammed closed as they got close. Jason pulled as hard as he could on the handle, and the door refused to open.

Jason realized Tessa’s danger. She was locked outside and wore only the thin shirt and shorts.

And it was lethally cold outside.

He pounded the picture window with a chair with futile effort, the glass just wouldn’t break. Jason gave up after the fourth try and pointed to the basement, telling her where to go with sign language. Then he and Lauren ran down the stairs, her long legs lacerated from the branches on the other side of the wallpaper, bled freely. In the basement, stone walls were safe.

Jason showed Lauren where to sit and ran towards the basement’s heavy-timber doors like a football tackle and hit them at full speed.

And bounced off.

The gold mine might be a safe haven, but the doors were part of the house and refused to budge.

Tessa’s voice on the other side of the door called his name, she needed to come in out of the cold.

His mind raced. They woke a malevolence while they worked in the house.

Tessa yelled his name in a feeble voice and pounded on the wood with a failing strength.

In a near panic, he searched for something to open the doors with and then he looked at his work table.

The table! He had built it using the ore-cart that belonged to the long-ago miner, and it still sat on the rails in the floor. He kept it all clean for the sake of nostalgia. Because it looked “Cool”.

Jason got behind the cart and released the brake, he took a last deep swallow from the whiskey for luck and then pushed the half-ton cart as hard as he could.

The ore cart hit the doors with a huge bang and a the door creaked and opened about the width of his forearm from the impact.

Tessa’s hand came through the hole and Jason grabbed her and pulled.

Shivering and covered in powdered snow, Tessa struggled and pulled on Jason to get through the gap.

Halfway through, the doors began to shut!

Tessa screamed in pain, the doors trapped her leg between them as they returned to their locked position.

Jason Grabbed a shovel and wedged the width of the narrow trench shovel’s blade in between the doors to keep them from crushing Tessa’s leg.

He struggled, pushed, leaned on the doors that creaked and groaned with increasing pressure on the blade of the shovel. Ages seemed to pass. Then as if she was a cork from a bottle, Tessa was free of the doors and they collapsed on the floor together. Out of breath, she clung to him while she wept.

“What’s happening? Jason? What is it?”

Screams started again. But it wasn’t the women.

The house seemed to come awake as Lettie ran down the stairs. Jason took her to sit with Tessa and began to explain, as he started to talk to them, the shocking gray face of Lettie looked around, her eyes haunted.

No, not haunted.

Missing!

Her face was no longer beautiful. It was a horror with a toothless mouth that made a big “O” in a scream that matched Kevin’s. A thread of wallpaper extended down from overhead attached to the top of the woman’s head.

Jason grabbed a hatchet from his workbench and jumped at the thread that was stealing the life out of Lauren. Time slowed down.

He’d saved her once by cutting her out of the wallpaper. This time, he swung with every ounce of his anger and fear-fueled strength to cut it off.

And missed.

“Oh God!” He screamed as thick white fluids leaked out of the horrid wound in Lettie’s skull and dripped to the floor.

“Oh God! Oh God! No! No! No! I’m so sorry!.”

They had to leave, and leave now.

Jason looked at Tessa and he knew he was the only one that could make it to the car. But, Tessa would be in this house alone. Even if she was safe for the moment, hiding in the corner behind the work table, between two rolls of…

Two rolls of…

Wallpaper!

He turned to where Tessa was hiding and he could only see a ball of wallpaper where Tessa had been hiding. The big ball of paper quickly shrank, he could see her outline fading under the wrapping that had slid around her like a web.

He leaped over the table with a box-cutter in hand, slashing at the cocoon of wallpaper around her, and found…  

Nothing. Just paper, wadded up and desiccated.

Tessa was gone.

He was the only one left and the gap between the doors was too small to allow escape.

Pulling on the work table, he rolled it as far into the deepest part of the mine that he could reach.

He took a long, deep pull of the whiskey bottle.

“Last drink in this house!” He yelled.

Leaning on the table, he pushed.

Hard.

He had a thirty-foot running start with the thousand-pound battering ram on rails. He pushed for the snow, he pushed with berserker strength. Adrenalin giving him energy, motivation enough to break through the doors.

Ducking the wedged shovel handle he had jammed in over Tessa’s head as he and the cart hit the doors at a full run, the left door trembled and creaked open.

He seized the momentary advantage and dove through the opening as the door tried to shut on the table time and again as the house tried to claim another victim.

Laying in the snow, it was strangely quiet, illuminated by the inviting, cold-white LED icicle lights he spent so much time hanging.

A beautiful and deadly structure.

He crawled through the snow away from the devil house. Then his hands felt like they were on fire. Burning hot, like the flesh was going to melt off.

Pain!

It hurt! So much pain. It had to be the snow, it had to be.

Then he looked at his hands, the skin was pale.

In the dim light from the house, was his skin mottling? Or turning into wallpaper?

Doctor Jason Best stood and ran through the snow as fast as anyone could. Slipping and falling, he covered the mile in nearly an hour when he fell and rolled onto Spicer Road. His hands feeling like no other pain he ever had in his life.

As he layed on his back, the ground rumbled, he could feel it up through his spine. Something was coming.

Something huge. House-sizd.

It was the Mountain House! It chased him on cedar pillar legs. The ground trembled with an evil hunger that stalked him down the mountainside.

Too tired and cold to run, he lay supine on the lonely mountain road and began to scream that he was sorry. From the distance, lights from the porch bore down on him, unstoppable and implacable. He had nothing left, his mind broke as he screamed out his last prayers and the lights engulfed him.

Jason Best awoke in a bed to the beeping sounds of a cardiac monitor. It took a long time before he was able to get his eyes focused on a pole that held IV bags that ran into his arms.

For a week, he could not understand all of it. His soul should have been taken or some-such.

 

It was all like in another world. Soft, but cloying like spiderwebs to drag him back. Nightmares of the events were slow to fade, it kept on. Soft and horrid.  Whispers in the shadows that invited him back to the Mountain House to stay, pulling on the spiderwebs lodged in his mind. It was difficult to comprehend all of it.

This room, bed, poles and equipment were solid, real, easy to understand.

After two weeks and the realization that he was alive, Jason was discharged home from the hospital. Then the interviews for days by the police about the three deaths ended.

Detectives took notes, wrote down everything the college professor described in vivid detail, and interviewed the attending physicians.

After a month, a preliminary report was ready for review. Jason obtained a copy and read it while sitting at his breakfast table.

“Jason Best, Ph.D. was found by a snowplow driver, Honey Gareth (See interview notes: Honey Gareth), laying in the middle of Spicer Dam Spur Road. In the two days in question, Dr. Best spent the time alone in the cabin at 24821 Spicer Dam Spur Road. In the course of the weekend, Doctor Best discovered an old wine cellar stocked with wine and rye whiskey. Tests of opened whiskey bottles showed high levels of ergot alkaloids, consistent with acute ergot toxicity causing visual and auditory hallucinations, per the attending physicians. This resulted in Doctor Best becoming convinced that he was with three other people over the weekend who died as a result of paranormal attacks.

Subsequent interviews with the named people, Doctor Contessa AKA “Tessa” Pershing is alive and well, continuing to work at Ocean Bay Community College. Doctor Best is familiar to Doctor Pershing in that they have attended same meetings and office functions but denies any relationship that might exist between Doctor Best and herself.

Doctor Lauren MacKay is friends with Doctor Best, but states no knowledge of anyone named Kevin. Her spouse, Michael MacKay, works at Ocean Bay University as a Fine Arts Professor. Further, no record of Kevin Acker, student or faculty, have been discovered. Searches of phone listings have proved fruitless.

To date, no evidence of any deaths at this address during the weekend in question exists.

Interior of 24821 Spicer Dam Spur Road shows the wallpaper slashed and torn in the kitchen and third-floor bedroom (See attached photos). The barn door to the basement has been knocked off the hinge by a gold-rush era ore cart on rails and a hatchet discovered embedded into a can of white paint.(See attached photos)

A horizontal goldmine dug circa 1850’s shows evidence of modern reinforcements and extensive work in a room with a power management center from a self-contained geothermal generator. Adjacent to the power room is the previously mentioned wine cellar. (See attached photo series)

Ninety-six bottles of Rye Whiskey were found with rye grain still floating in the bottom of the bottles. Original labels, dated from 1910 to 1919 of quart-size “Robert’s Rye Whiskey.” Two bottles were discovered opened, one empty, the second appeared three-quarters full.(See attached photos)

It’s the conclusion of the investigation that Dr. Best suffered from accidental ergot intoxication per the attached pertinent physician’s notes.

No complaints filed with the evidence uncovered.

Lt. Liewess J. Jonah, investigating.”

<<<>>>

 

Christmas on the Flying Pirate Ship “Orcus” 2015

Standard

Christmas on the Flying Pirate Ship “Orcus” 2015

I had settled under my blankets,

cuddled warm in my bed.

Alone and quiet, rum gone to my head,

Crew sent given them all a four-day pass

I did not want them working this weekend

and be all grumpy and crass

When suddenly (made me jump like I was scared)

Lights came on,

and alarms loudly blared,

Cannon raised and tracked ahead

Shields came online

as I leaped out of bed

when the holo-map was no longer dim

A target was tracking.

Small as can be

I didn’t need the computer to ID him

and I knew at once that old elf had found me

I thought while I pulled on my boot

“OMYGAWD, all weapons will shoot!”

(I knew that if even close, they’d render Christmas moot)

away to the command center I did sprint

With a shoe in one hand I tripped over the sweeper

While I lay on the floor a voice was heard as it said

“On my friends, he’s above forty-thousand meter!”

“To the roof, to the pad, he has it out and I am glad!

Donner and Vixen, Comet and Blitzen!

Dasher to your namesake

On to the ship, give me no lip

Cupid and Rudy you have a duty

Get me there! Come on team

We have to finish this in sky it does seem.”

Suddenly realizing, I left the Rose Suchuck Ladder outside the hallsl

I raced down the stairs to rescue any falls

I knew it was trouble when I heard Santa yell

“Balls!”

I skidded to a halt in spilled magic glitter.

The reindeer snickered,

and all were atwitter.

I had an urge to run and flee

When I saw

Santa was down on one knee

he fussed and he cussed

Then rubbing his shin he went straight to his work

Entered through the lock and turned with a jerk

A tree he pulled out of his sack

Was a gift from some kid named Charley

Who used to live out back

Small it was,

all bent to the floor

then the Old Red Coated elf

pulled out a box and put it by the door

The tree stood a bit higher

I began to laugh

This Charley Brown tree was a liar

I recognized by the needles for leaves

This was an Immortal Tree according to scans

not just a tree

it is a

Sequoia Sempervirens

The next box that Santa pulled out and put at the stand

Was black with a red ribbon

about the size of my hand

The next was a beauty of glittering hue

More came out

Red

Green

and

Blue

The pile grew faster still (It was a lot)

I didn’t know I had this many friends

Who’da thought?

As the pile grew tall

the computer came on and a blinking light lit and I spied

That the ship complained

As it listed to one side

Before he was done

His back did ache

I went to the Orca’s galley

and began to make.

Rum I made, spiced and hot

This old boy was not getting out

without hitting the pot.

Two of us drank further into the night

Santa’s nose lit up

Even Rudolf’s was not as bright

With a hearty “HO Ho hO”

Now he was a really jolly old elf

then said he had to go.

Stopping with a moment

The white-beard turned back

Put down his bag

Opened his sack

To the King he handed

a magical thing

Looked like a box

With a heavy steel ring

I blinked one time

I wondered what this was for

What kind of crime?

What was the score?r

“It’s a treasure chest, it swells to hold

All the love from your friends I have been told”

The Old Elf laughed and left with his nose in full shine

A wee bit wobbly with a singing line.

“On Prancer, on Vixen, On Comet –don’t be stupid– Dasher and Dancer, Rudy And Chester! Donner and Blitzen get to Getzin!”

“Good night to Pirates anywhere they be!”

I stood and watched him fly away.

Most of all…

I wish Merry Christmas From me.

Dash McCallen MICP

Children of Fury: Hellions Chapter 8. Captain’s Log

Children of Fury:Hellions
Standard

Captain’s Log

The young man sat on the padded seat with a quill in one hand, a book in his lap. He eschewed the captain’s chair at the desk, and preferred instead to sit in his favorite corner.

The Blackfish was making way nicely, and his view of the ocean from the stern of the ship made his soul feel free with the expansive view when the storm doors were open.

His long crimson hair, cut short the months before, now hung down past his earlobes, he dipped the tip of the quill in the jar of ink and put the blackened tip to the parchement.

“Captain’s Personal Log Of Keegan O’Danu:

First entry, and the first voyage of the Blackfish, and my father follows in the Cúlaith. A sistership to this one. We have come here from the start of years ago.

Nearly half my life.

A summer day when my father went out with a ship that he had built. He was gone when the English came and destroyed my village.

I saw my seanathair lay on the ground with a bolt jutting out of his chest and the soldiers that beat my mam into the dirt until she stopped moving. In those days, I thought she was dead.

I woke up on a slave-cart, I still carry the scar, hidden by my hair, where the soldier hit me.

When I came home, I found that my mam, taken by the English, was in the islands where my old friend Captain Myngs freed me.

I found when I returned to my father in the Virgina lands of a bay they called Irishtown. A backwater behind a German settlement.

I sit in command of this new ship, a crew of twenty and one hundred of the old crew. Only twelve adults serve on board. The balance of older’s follow in my father’s ship of his design.

We return in force, with my old friends Anna God-Wants and Jacquotte Delahaye to find my mother, somewhere on the islands of the Caribs.

I will not rest until I find the fate of my mam and return her home.

I cannot watch my father walk alone any longer, he weeps at night for the life stolen from him, he doesn’t I see it. But he is my father, I hear him in the dark when he thinks everyone is sleeping, I see his eyes. The strain shows on his face.

I cannot watch my father suffer.

It fills me with a rage that keeps me awake at night.

My friends all have parents, brothers and sisters all still missing and we will return to collect them.

The Blackfish and the other ships can carry twice more than the crew who man them. Plus my plan will be to take ships on our return home.

Empires will tremble at the thought of our rescue. No navy will prevail against us. We have new bronze cannon built by the one my father calls Francois Buile. He showed us that the ranges of these new nine-pounders are double of our last guns.

Granuaile has built gun carriages of her own design. Adult men have learned to keep their distance from her.

My only pleasure around her, she has stopped socking me in the shoulder. My bruise is almost healed, but any man who hits me there now, will have a surprise. Unless he has hands of stone, I would not notice it.

Diana, who has returned to using her war-name of Angelcries has driven our crew as a stringent task-master. She follows my direction to the letter. She has a heart of a lion, even I am afraid of her sometimes. But she has stopped growing, I think. A year ago, we were the same size, today I am taller by almost a head while she has yet to grow to five feet.

The ginger-haired youth rubbed his shoulder and laughed. But when he gazed out over the water, the old melancholy chased away the smile.

Putting the quill into the bottle, he stood up and walked to the expensive glass window. An artisan, commissioned by the blacksmiths, made the glass into three letters to remind a woman’s child of her name.

“Fey” in small colored cut-glass gems sparkled in the sun.

Tracing his fingers over the inlay, the old anger rose again. He would get her back.

He sat back down and picked the quill out of the bottle and tapped the drop off against the mouth of the blown-glass bottle of ink and put it to the expensive vellum in his personal journal.

Turning the page, he wrote at the top of the page:

“Captain’s Personal log of Keegan O’Danu

I miss her, I can remember my mam’s eyes and her laugh. I was only nine-summers old when we were taken. I will find her and bring her back, if only for my athair. A son should never see a father broken. Slavery should never be a market and I will free anyone that is in service against their will that I find, so long as I draw a breath. Slave ships will be my prey, anyone who flies the flag of empire will strike colors on my approach.

The Pirate Kingdom of the Sea will hold sway. Free people will embrace the name.

Everywhere they use the label pirate as a perjorative, I will embrace it as freedom.

Until my Mam is home, I will walk the decks and sail the seas until I am too old to chew my food.

Many years ago, to me.

My máthair was taken.

The English declared war on our village.

Today, I return to get her back. The Spanish or English and any who strike with the might of an empire, just because they can, I will make tremble with fear to sail these waters with their flags flying.

My father and his crew accompany us in thinking they protect the children.

We are the seeds of crimes that the Spanish, English and the Dutch have sown.

It is up to the children to protect the fathers.

I will continue to use my war-name given to me by the Quartermaster of the Marston Moor.”

A member since the first tour on Grampus she had no fear of anyone, Beth Angelcries stepped through the door.

“Keegan, your Da’ has hailed us using a speaking-trumpet.”

The captain of the Blackfish nodded. He smiled into the hazel eyes of the girl who had shown such fury when they made their way home, causing Keegan to redefine the term in his mind.

Looking down, he finished his entry.

With the support of Anna Marie and Jacquotte we will stop at the harbor of Germantown and meet with those children who stayed behind and were adopted when we left their village last year for the Chesapeake.

The adults in that town invited us to return when we wished. It is something I do wish to do, there is a debt of help I owe to the families there.

He set down his quill, the youngest captain in any fleet left his journal to talk with his personal hero.

He would discuss their next stop, Germantown, with his father.

The discussion would be from an adventurer sailor to a citizen sailors that was the fathers and uncails of the Cúliath, the swift, long legged canine used to chase prey.

It was a happy meeting. The crew of the Cúliath showed interest of the small village of Germantown. The people that helped their sons and daughters.

Fathers let the children lead, for they had been here before. Protected by the women pirates, the fathers sailed with the Wrath leading and the Scorned following.

Conn laughed at the names. THe women silenced him with looks alone, and would brook no arguement of the joke regarding the nature of the ships christening.

He was reminded, he and the other men were the students, his son and the women that protected Keegan, were the masters.

It made him smile.

His son the Master.

Little Monster Girl by my fave non-text artist!

Standard

Keep an eye out for this lady, she might do some book covers for me, if she is interested. 😀

Now, click on this and be entertained!

Zela zhe Zwims zwimmingly looking zexy! Ze Octopuz doez thingz but tastez good.

http://lmgcomic.com/comic/chapter-5-comic-15/

 

Dragon Master University Chapter 39. Summer in Spring

Standard

Chapter 39. Summer in Spring

Yawning and stretching in his bed the next morning, Jona sighed. He felt exhausted the night before and went to bed while Kolo, her brother and Professor Vale sat up and talked late into the night.

The first class in the spring quarter began with social studies of dragons and humans, something at first that Jona felt was boring, but while the tall human woman instructed, she spoke of wars and prejudice.

Dragons, older and wiser than the human race, the humans had one thing more.

Conviction.

They had determination to live.

Like siblings, respected and at times hated each other, the human and dragon populations drifted apart in some ways and merged in others.

A complex relationship that developed since before the dawn of history.

And Professor Altair was already talking about homework.

A whisper at Jona’s shoulder.

“We can study together.” It was Summer. “You have that look people get before they scream and run away from something.”

Jona stifled a laugh, he would have denied it, but she was correct, the social history of humans and dragons promised to be a difficult class.

“We will meet in the library, no one will bother us there.” She said softly while the professor droned on about the good natures of man and dragon were often lost in the passage of time.

He nodded, Professor Altair spoke of how legends in dragon lore and human mythology remembered the relationship between a dragon and an intelligent girl that grows up, turning away from the great friendship they had developed.

The dragon, who stood next to the young human during great raids by great robbers from the sea that sailed in great ships.

Only when the dragon Kl’qlpff, who humans called “Puff” told the Pirate King of the raids, who then forced the rogue corsairs to lower their flags and leave forever.

Songs and legends, bards wrote about it all, then faded from even that.

“One day, the story will return,” She said. “It will come by way of bards and storytellers.”

It struck a chord in Jona, like the baby dragon Sprite who adopted him when he drove a cart of smelly peat behind a flatulent ox the previous summer.

Summer walked with him down the path to the library and they talked of how dragons had existed for so long, why they were so long-lived and if there would fully be peace.

She sat at a broad stone table, polished by a thousand years of forelegs and arms rubbing on it. Padded stone seats, wicker chairs, and a myriad of other perches surrounded the giant round disk to accommodate the different clans and species.

Kola sat in with them, his studies of human laws confused him.

Eva lounged, reading an architecture textbook for her classes, but it kept hitting her in the face as she dozed while trying to read it. Looking around to see if anyone noticed, she would go back to reading the same page.

“Summer,” Jona whispered. “What page are we on?”

She giggle quietly.

“You keep looking at Eva. She will give herself a brain injury if she keeps hitting herself with the book.”

Kola laughed, overhearing the whisper and looked at the dozing race dragon.

“Jona, I think you ran her too hard yesterday, she is not used to the exercise after being off the team when she dropped her grades.” Kola nudged him.

“Kola, shush.” The librarian, a human adult male with a heavy leather tunic studded with metal book-shaped rivets in different colors. “You are keeping others from studying. Eva, if you need sleep, go to your room, you are starting to snore and are being a disturbance.”

Eva shook herself awake and apologized, for the fifth time tried to read the same page.

“Jona, we are on page four, paragraph five.” She flipped the pages for him. “This is what the professor will test on in a couple of days. It is easy to memorize if you follow this trick to keep it in mind.”

She taught him a mnemonic to keep the lesson in his head.

“My brother took Professor Altair’s class, she goes in order, always. It is how history happened, it is how she teaches, so this memoria technica trick will help you in the test.” Summer smiled at him.

Memorizing the pattern she taught him, he looked up and saw the librarian standing there with his arms crossed. For a moment, Jona swore the librarian would make good on his threats of ouster from the study area but the man nodded with a small smile, the long beard swung with the movement when the barrel chested keeper of the books turned away and moved across the floor towards other students.

In two hours, Jona watched the big hour-glass turn again in the mechanical teamwork of dragon and human timekeeper in the front of the library. He felt more interested after every discussion that Summer, Kola (despite it not being his subject. Jona suspected Kola had a crush on her and wanted her to notice him.)and he had, the history of dragonkind was more than just words, Jona felt them.

The history resonated with the young Dragon Master, more than his parents imagined might happen.

Jona was learning.

They spent hours in the library, Summer, Jona and Kola, joined by Eva who studied long hours to keep her grades up.

Eva was happiest when flying, her studies were marginal when she flew and failed to study, but it was no more or less than what all the friends and students went through daily.

But as professors universally instructed, they were not there to fail anyone, neither were they there to pass without teaching.

Eva worked hard at both of her skills and kept talking to professors who would help.

The summer break was coming up in short order and finals were intense. Professor Vale, Professor Cush, and especially the Green Man wizard were all driving points home with verbal hammers.

Homework was coming fast and furious, Summer and Jona continued to study with a singular thought. The Csu and Gorgons were far from the minds of dragon and human students alike.

Races were a regular topic, the teams of the intraschool competitors complained they were not ready for the speeds they needed to win not only the school championship but to outspeed any other teams from other schools around the world.

Jona pointed out that other schools were having the same problems. Rumors came from visitors to the other schools.

All students, everywhere lacked free time to just relax and play.

All was study and learn.

By the equinox of spring, they were feeling ready. Lessons were familiar, preparatory tests were easier each passing week.

Jona felt ready for the next chapter of the year.

Looking at his grades on the great central post, Jona smiled.

His grades were good enough, Jona Samhain had new rivets that the school awarded him for his tunic. Two silver, three gold, one emerald-green.

He wondered what the green meant and made note to ask Professor Vale of his house.

It was a year of mind-boggling, life changing lessons.

Jona the future dragon master smiled and walked back to his room.

Dragon Master University Chapter 38. Spring Quarter Begins

Standard

Chapter 38. Spring Quarter Begins

Kolo walked slowly with Jona and talked about why she left.

“My family had to move, the Csu are in the area.”

“The chew?” Jona asked.

“Csu, C-S-U, no one knows where they came from, but they are a human-like kind of creature, but aggressive, hateful. They have drawn upon something that no one wishes to believe.” She shuddered. “Gorgons.”

“You are speaking in riddles.” He looked sideways at his friend.

“Paying attention in next years classes on dragon and human relationships will help. But for now, I’ll explain it is a kind of religion. The Csu follow a book, interpreted by the High-Priestess and their queen.”

“And what are gorgons?” They mounted the curving steps to the emerald level, to the dorms of their level.

“Gorgons are dragons that have fallen under the spell of the Csu, they have an anger that is corrupts their bodies, humans are favorite target, but an attack by a gorgon the humans view as an attack by a dragon. Dragons come in all shapes and sizes, like humans.” She held his hand. “We have hearts and skin, each of us are as different as two humans. Gorgons cannot be spotted from dragons, humans then hunt every single dragon to pay the price of the few malevolent creatures.”

“Do we have those here in school?”

“Oh no!” She shook her head. “Professors and even the Green Wizard have a sense about that, dragons and humans that are too dangerous to live with each other are not brought here. They go to a different school.”

“What kind of school?” Jona asked, still learning about the nuances about the university. “Like a school for dunces?”

“More like how to teach peace. Humans and Dragons do not associate at that school.”

“Where is it?”

“Other side of the world. It would take the fastest flier almost a day to get there.” Her slid around his waist and pulled him close to her as they topped the stairs and walked down the hallway. “I have missed you.”

Jona smiled, color rising to his cheeks.

“Oh, I forgot, you are sensitive to that.” She laughed softly. “Humans don’t touch like dragons.”

“I think you just like to touch me.” He grinned at her.

“Well, you smell good, especially after you have showered. You use that cedar oil soap. There is only one other I like more, but I don’t want you to try it.”

“What scent is that?”

“Fish.” She winked. “Specifically, salmon.”

“Um, yeah. No.” He laughed.

“Well, I’m thirsty. I am going to get some tea and study. I will tell you more about the Csu when I sit down.”

Jona shook his head.

“I just finished flying with Eva, I need to shower, if she gets in before me, she uses all the hot water.”

Kolo laughed and nodded.

“I’ll be on a cushion when you come out. I have studying to do, come sit with me.” She looked at him sideways. “You do still like to sit with me?”

“Oh, of course!”

“Summer enjoyed herself. You should invite her here sometime and come cuddle.” She smiled. “She would like that. Her clan are known cuddlers and raise families with humans.”

“Maybe later, right now? A shower.” Jona shook his head.

“Use that cedar soap.” She laughed and called after the human that tickled her heart.

She sat there with a large cup of steaming tea when Kola came and sat next to her.

“Did you tell the professors what happened at home?”

His sister shook her head.

“I have had enough trouble telling Jona. If the Csu have moved into the swimmer clan’s area, they are moving everywhere, the school would know before I told them.”

“Tell us what?”

It was Professor Vale, he walked on soft, cat-like feet when he wanted to. He walked to the golden tea-pot and turned the handle at the bottom, filling a cup with the fragrant steaming brew.

“Sir, the Csu forced my clan to move. They imposed their kind of law and it is a horrid version of law, worse than anything archaic humans have ever thought up.” Kolo looked down and went quiet.

Kola spoke up.

“Professor, they are using Gorgons.”

The tea-cup stopped in mid-air between the saucer and the Professor’s lips for a count of five before he took a sip.

“Gorgon.” He muttered as he took a sip while looking straight at Kola. “Are you sure?”

“They have the markings, carved into their scales.” Kola said.

“Professor.” Jona walked in wearing a thick, brushed cotton robe, his hair wet. “What is a gorgon?”

“They are a group of dragons that the Csu twisted and corrupted within and without by the magic of Csu.” Professor Vale started slowly. “They submit with free will, or captured and forced to convert, either way, they change.” He shook his head, sipped his tea, took a breath and continued. “The heart of the dragon is resilient and the scales of a dragon reflect what is in the heart. This is why you see dragons here as you do. Even those that are…”

Professor Vale trailed off and sipped his tea.

“Sorry, I lost the word.” He paused. “Bully. That’s it. Their heart reflects the violent fear that is in the core of their heart. They feel that it is the only way for them to achieve salvation and all that stand in their way they destroy. Human, dragon, young, old, statue, memories. And they will destroy all history to make way for only one leader and religion.”

“The Csu.” Jona said.

“Very good, I do not know where you have been doing your social studies, but you have been paying attention.” The Professor said.

“The serious threat that the Csu have for the world, where they raid, they use a scorched earth policy in society and physically. Humans are wiped out, dragons join or die.”

“Dragons do not submit.” Kola said.

“No, that means for a severe battle when swimmers, runners and flyers band together and fight against a creeping evil that is the insanity named Csu.” Vale shook his head. “Csu must be nearly two-thousand winter’s old by now.”

“Who is Csu?” Jona asked, his blue eyes locked on Vales gold.

“Csu was a student here, but dropped out when a judge caught her cheating during a race. The school transferred her to the segregated school for humans to learn peace and acceptance of dragons.” Vale took another swallow of tea. “She nearly killed a human boy. I do not know all the circumstances, but she used an object that she keeps with her. An antler of an animal.”

“She wrote a book about that time, claiming that it was the word of the Dragon Lord, Gamon.” Vale’s voice was soft as he thought. “Gamon has not been spoken of before, no one knows where it came from. But she gathered followers of like-minded dragons. She might be half-dragon herself, no one knows for sure, but her appearance has changed. Perhaps reflecting her heart and soul, buy in any way you wish to look at it, the group she has started has taken on her name. She is Csu, they are the Csu.”

“Corruption of the inside, corrupts the outside?” Jona asked.

“Not entirely accurate, but essentially, yes.” Vale nodded. “Dragons when angered over a long time, their bodies prepare for battles, claws get longer, scales get coarser and thicker. In mixed races with humans, elves and others, the effect is still observable.”

“So she builds a following. How can the world stop this?” Kola asked.

“Dragons, by and large, are peaceful with given exceptions.” Vale was still pondering. “My suggestion to you students, do not seek anything out on this. Stay within the range of the school.”

Jona looked around wide-eyed.

“I don’t think I want to leave the house.”

“Do not stress young human, we have protocols in place.” Vale tried to smile.

“Nothing can happen.”

Valley of Fear Chapter 1. Three Weeks Ago

Standard

Chapter 1. Three Weeks Ago

He sat quietly, an AR-15 leaning out of sight against the rock wall next to him, a branch obscuring its very existence.

Rocky Jorge Picot awaited the delivery of the drug mules from the north, the escort called Rocky’s mobile phone rang two-hours before, the truck made it through the gates at the border, the team met the truck at the rendezvous and set out with workers and product to his position on Misty Mountain.

The tunnel, an ancient construction that did not exist on any map. .

They soon covered up the ancient lithographs carved on the walls with boxes of product in one of the rooms of the deep, multi-forked tunnel.

Frightening to Rocky, tunnels that turned off of the main-line collapsed over the untold number of years, but deep in the mine, the warmest it would get was a constant sixty-two degrees Farenheit, he was of Southern-French descent and the cool of the tunnels chilled him to the bone.

That was his excuse anyway. 

His job was simply to keep everyone away who was not part of the company of smugglers, and he got the job from his stint as a sniper in the French Army. He enjoyed shooting the rifle chambered for a .338 Lapua Magnum over the .300 Winchester Magnum, for no other reason than he was more accurate with the larger caliber. He did not like the 12.7 Millimeter rifle, that caliber rattled his teeth, although he ranked in the top of his class and qualifications each time.

He was just tempted to miss once in a while, just so he would not have to fire the big caliber, come in the middle of the training list instead of placing first or second.

He liked the middle caliber, he was more comfortable with it and would have stayed in the service if not for incidents with drinking and an offhand threat to shoot a superior officer with his rifle.

“You won’t even hear the shot.” He had said.

It was a rapid exit from the government service.

Now he waited, watching, his pay off would be enough to retire on, comfortably, in the Caribbean.

There!

He could see heads moving, backpacks piled high with boxes and two mules, loaded down. Two followers dragging car tires behind them, obliterating the track of the mules and men.

Tillman “Tusk” Franks, the only man known that carried a knife made of a boars tusk, walked up to Rocky and spoke with him, motioning to the following men to put the product in the back of the tunnel.

The foreman of the drug smuggling team directed the men to dig in the back, clearing debris that had fallen over the thousands of years since the ancient people dug out the mountain side in the days of pre-history.

Time and again they went in, bringing out rock and gravel on their backs, distributing the tailings of the dig around in the forest.

During the sixteenth trip into the cave, a door was uncovered.

Not a door, precisely, a plug. A solid cross-section of a cut log. Seven-feet in diameter, set in the middle of the one mine-shaft, no hinges, no door. Just a giant cross-section jammed in the mine-shaft.

Like a cork, but huge and solid. With each man pushing and using levers, it never budged. Only a pattern of stones and paints on the butt end of the log.

Two of the men carved out some of the stones with knives, polished and carved, they appeared to have a scrimshaw like pattern of monsters and warriors cut into the semi-precious stones.

“What the hell.” Rocky said to Tillman. “All that stuff is, is trouble, if we try to sell it. Let them have the hassles, we have better here.”

The two men nodded to each other in a conspiratorial tones. The mules did not know what they had packed in, only that they were well paid.

Tillman left in a different route with the team. Rocky settled down, waiting for his partner, Kaarle Gulliaume, to join him, Rocky grew tired of being on the mountain alone.

He stayed well back with his furnace and cooking stove, knowing that the DEA had aircraft that could detect a fire from dozens of miles away. Thirty paces into the mineshaft, he kept it well out of sight from any federal agency.

In the deepest part of the tunnel, the large wood disk, split.

Rocky found there were more things to fear than the DEA and helicopters that could see in the dark.

He would be the first to scream in fear that night.

Dragonmaster University Chapter 33. After Metal shop

Standard

(Note, this is a rewrite.  There was a missing chunk out of the last third.  So I leave this non-repost for your repast, re-read, review and reply if you care. So this non-repost will replace a non-reblog of the re-imaged rewrite. )

Chapter 33. After Metal Shop

 

Holy crap!

Metallurgical class from the autumn semester was not easy, but this semester, they put to action the chapters they had read out of the Book of Smites and the workbook “Alloy Allies”, written by some hammer-slinging maniac named Hephaestus.

Jona came back to the dorms on the Emerald floor covered in soot and sore to the bones, going straight to the showers, he barely had the strength to take off his clothes and stand there in the hot water as it cascaded over his shoulders.

He hurt so bad, even swear words were not enough to describe the all-day torture. Several minutes passed before he was able to scrub with a sponge that grew on a stick and struggled with that when he saw that the oversized pool of water that served as a bath for larger swimming dragons and thought that it would be enjoyable to just sit in the warm waters.

But it was so far to walk on his sore legs. Professor Vuul, the fire-drake from the south had him pumping the bellows for the forge for the last two hours— after he had swung a hammer on different metals that he learned to heat from barely able to hold it in his hand, to sparkling white-hot.

He shook his head, he had to fill the great tub and even with the massive-multiple faucet, it would take longer than he wanted to wait, and he had hot water now.

With the hot water running over his shoulders and cascading down his body, he felt a great deal better.

He was standing there with his eyes closed, letting the water do the magic of bringing a soul back to the comfort zone when he felt a soft hand slide over his left shoulder.

It was Kolo, the teaching assistant to Professor Vale.

“Let me wash your back. You look like you are in pain.”

Jona covered up as much as he could, yipping like a startled puppy.

“You… I mean… me… I’m…”

“You are naked, yes, and so am I. But relax, I was watching you and you need someone to wash you. We are on the same team, right? We take care of each other.” She smiled, her tail slowly sliding over his hip while the girl dragon rubbed his back with a fibrous sponge that a dragon-team harvested from halfway around the world.

Kona’s hands, covered in human like skin on the palm, had a slightly coarse texture, like the paw of a cat. It was very sensual, but Jona was not ready for sensual.

He was in too much pain with overused muscles that he never thought he had, understanding now, more than ever, why his dad was so strong.

Even with her ministrations of creams and perfect pressure of her fingers, Jona’s body punished him with cramps and heavy, aching arms that could not shut the water off to the shower, his fingers didn’t want to close tightly enough without cramping.

“Jona, you need a cuddle for the night.” Kolo said matter-of-factly as she turned the hammered-bronze and emerald water control to “off” and draped a large towel around his shoulders and tied the belt at his waist, creating a large tunic of soft brushed cloth against his skin.

“What? Are you trying to get me in your bed?”

“You can keep your clothes on, but you should know by now, dragons like to touch and be touched. I will let you sleep in my arms, it will be a help heal your muscles and you can go back to class.” She smiled, her eyes sparkled like nothing else. Kolo did not have faceted eyes like full-blooded dragons, but she had the glint that stopped conversations. “Besides, the cloth in that robe you wear has medicines in the fibers, they do the most work. I will just help you sleep.”

“Aw, I can’t do that, Sprite would not understand with another body in the bed.”

“Sprite is a dragon.” She smiled. “This is what she will desire most as she grows, the more the better in her mind. Dragons sleep together.”

Jona hurt in all his muscles. The thought of having the gentle touch of this dragon that he had a crush on sleeping with her arms and tail around him was beyond his dreams of desire.

“And I have a special nightshirt to wear to bed.” Jona said. “My mom made it for me.”

“Sprite has told me she loves cuddling with you and that shirt a great deal. It’s made of the finest fibers that could be found of Honeytree thread.” Kolo nodded. “When I was little, I had a sleep-ball made of Honeytree thread.

“Honeytree thread?” Jona blinked, it was the first time he had heard of the name.

“It grows in a valley two days’ flight from here. Think of the fur of a long-haired kitten, only as long as your arm and twice as soft.”

“How? I mean…” Jona stuttered.

“I have studied a great deal. I am still learning every day.” Kolo said softly, sitting on his bed, pulling him to her arms.

She was absolutely correct. His aching muscles needed to rest, the girl dragon laying with him, with her arms around him. The three of them lay in her huge bed, Sprite against his chest, Kolo spooned to his back, it was nothing like what he expected, it was like being in a giant kitten hug, without being overheated.

For all their scales, dragons were able to give an immersive sleep. And Jona slept without dreams, in the medicated toga, Kolo’s healing touch, Sprite’s love, his body healed far more quickly than if he slept alone.

Kolo watched the Jona sleep, her parents would fart flames to have a daughter curled up with a first-year student, and not wait until he was ready to graduate.

But he made her smile widely. For all his flaws for being a young human, he had the  pheromones of a dragon, the brilliant mind of the best of humans and the heart of a master.

She just had to mentor him into being what he could be. She had to talk with the Green Man.

For now, however, Kolo the youngest, of the water clan of swimming dragons, closed all three eyelids on both her eyes and slept with the human in her arms who slept against her chest in a wonderful, warm snore.

Excerpt: Children of Fury, Chapter 20. Old School Medicine

Standard

(Setup: Beli O’Danu, shot with an arrow and is bleeding to death. The knowledge of the Draoithe (Irish Druid) are what stands between him and death.)

20. Old School Medicine

Donal continued to help his old friend down the path to the river. Conn with his father’s arm around his neck helped to partly carry and partly drag the elder O’Danu to where the two men directed.

“Here! Put me down, here.” Beli grunted painfully, as they came to a clearing.

Beli’s shirt was sticky with clotted blood and matted with a paste of moss and herbs he had smeared on his own chest. Putting the poultice where the arrow protruded, the herbs had slowed the bleeding.

“Conn, collect some wide-flat rocks and build a small fire.” Said Donal as he went down to the riverside and began selecting plants with a critical eye. “Clean and heat the rocks over the fire until the water cooks off.” The High-Priest directed while he searched for those plants needed to save his friend’s life.

Beli wheezed out orders to Conn on what rocks to look for. Donal returned with an armful of roots, twigs and herbs with fleshy leaves, setting them down on the ground, he began to wash his hands in the clear water of the stream, cleaning the mud off his fingers.

Conn collected several large, flat rocks, about the size of his two spread hands, he cleaned them well with clean water and placed them near the pile of twigs and leaves.

While Donal was sweating from his exertions of grinding the leaves and the moisture from the herbs had mixed with the bark that he had collected in a small mortar and pestle into a smooth dough like texture. Time was short and his friend’s life hung in the balance. The longer they took, the weaker Beli was getting.

Conn started the fire with the use of flints, gently blew on the ember that he had been able to spark. With the growing fire. Conn began to wash two stones near the stream, cleaning the stones with a soapwort rub, then washed with water until it was clear. Then, with the fire burning hotly, Conn put the two stones near the flames to dry.

Conn’s father-in-law made himself as comfortable as possible, kneeling near the fire, putting a collection of bark and herbs on one of the rocks that had a concave surface, then began to press the medicines together with a small well used silver rolling-pin.

As Donal pressed the juices from the succulent greens he had just picked, chosen with an expert eye, Conn watched closely as the elder Draoi crushed and mixed the ingredients with the experience that would let him watch for the proper texture and color of ingredients.

Placing more herbs, Donal continued to grind the organic bits together on the hot rock, the mixture sizzled and put off a strong smoke that made him blink and cough.

“It is better at an alter, the smoke does not drift into my face so I can use it for bandages and not choke or blind me.” Donal coughed again. His voice quavered slightly and he cleared his throat, getting back to his task.

Conn suspected, however, that not all the tears were from the smoke.

Conn helped Donal by slowly pouring water over the tops of the rocks with a small silver cup that the elder Draoi handed him. While Donal tore a leaf apart and began to mix it with water, heating it until it bubbled.

Donal touched a branch taken from a willow tree to the mixture, the thick, hot viscous liquor coated it cooled on the smoothed carved twig.

Beli, who had been watching this turned his eyes down the path, Gael, Conn’s mother and teacher walked towards them from the ocean where they had taken refuge from the advancing armies of Parliament.

Several of the women burst out in tears at the sight of the wounded Beli laying on his back, only to have the Gael silence them with a wave of her hand.

“Time now is not for tears! Now is the time to repair and save a life. We need the finest, clean linen that anyone has.”

Gael invoked her title as a High Priestess, the Ard-Draoi. The Baker family who were Druid Priests and Priestesses of the Scots, the name of Baker had a huge influence wherever they walked and Gael was not to trifle with when it came to her knowledge of the Draoithe.

From within a pouch she carried at all times, Gael produced smaller bags of salts and knelt by Donal who looked up and nodded. Taking several small bags laid them next to the fresh herbs that Donal had collected.

Niamh, Conn’s mother-in-law and High Priestess in her own right, directed the women to gather strips of clothing to prepare for dressings. Setting down her own bag of collected medicinal herbs that exceeded Gael’s in the form of infection control herbs.

Niamh took a handful of linen from Anne MacNamara, who had grabbed anything she could while running from the advancing troops. The clothing was the best she had, giving it up to the priestess who had the intense look and a sense of urgency not seen before. Anne was not about to cross Niamh the healer.

Walking with the armful of dresses, Niamh stopped and pulled up some roots of a nearby plant. At the stream, tearing strips out of the clothing that Anne had given her, Niamh began to wash the makeshift bandages in the clear water of the river while she ordered the other women to build a fire nearby.

Gael nodded to herself as she directed what kinds of plants to use for the fire. The three Draoi worked together with intensity to save the life of their friend and mate, for what was about to come was the hardest and most difficult part for them to do.

Beating the strips furiously with a stick over one of the rocks that Conn had gathered, the plants and cloth formed a thick lather that Niamh instructed the helping women, including her friend Gael to rinse out in the flowing clear water for some minutes until all the water flowed clear of the strips. One after another Gael and Niamh inspected the linen strips carefully. Those that passed inspection were hung to dry in the smoke of the slow fire that they built using bundles of incense gathered by the remaining women and children. The smoke of the herbs, they explained, prevented infection later.

These treated linens Gael handed Conn, instructing her son to hold them by the corners and not to interrupt her while she was explaining how to do what he needed to do.

Detached from the activities that would save his life, Beli laughed silently, no matter how old her son was, he was still Gael’s child and would follow her directions.

Conn, used to giving orders and being in charge  bowed to his mothers sharp tongue and the father-in-law’s orders of what to do and how to do it.

As Beli lay on the ground, weakly moving his hands as if to guide the operation. A dozen of the villagers that had found refuge among the bluffs of the shore worked furiously to gather herbs under the directions of Donal and the Priestesses. Few had time to stand and watch, praying for the injured elder while they foraged for the needed herbs. So many had died that day, no one wanted to watch another one of their own also pass at the hands of the Parliament’s Agents.

“By the stones!” Beli wheezed out, his agitation growing with the pain. “This is beginning to seriously hurt!”

“It is going to hurt more before it gets better old friend, “Donal knelt next to Beli, “this might have been easier if I had the Spoon of Diokles with me, but that all burned with the village.”

Beli tried to interrupt but Donal shushed him.

“Yes, I have the Saultis Ominus nearly ready. Yes, our wives have the dressings nearly dry over the fire and clear of bad airs. Yes, we have the proper herbs.” Donal pressed a finger to the wounded man’s lips. “Shut up and rest.” There was no appeal to Donal’s command.

Then Donal’s tone softened as he touched his friend on the shoulder.

“Beli, to take this spike out of your chest will be difficult and the wound is deep.”

“I have made it this far,” Beli looked slowly around at the mountains and then the sky. “I’m ready to do this. This is hurting more with each breath. But I am not coughing up blood, my fingers are not white at the nails, if it has caused a hole where the blood flows, it is plugging it up now. When you pull it out, it will unplug the hole like a bung from a barrel. Then I would be dead before you could stop the bleeding.” Beli wheezed painfully.

“Beli,” Donal said softly.

“I know…” Grimacing against the pain he interrupted as he grabbed at his old friend’s chest, “I cannot live with this in and every moment it is in me, the more damage and the more pain it causes. It must come out, one way or another. It is good that it is you, you have the best knowledge to do this. You have pulled these out of men before during battles.”

Donal nodded, mixing the dried and powdered herbal potion with the smallest amount of water to mix a paste on the cleaned linens. Conn brought some powdered leaf over on the warm rock with the willow branch, now cut by Gael who carefully heated the twig over the fire until it turned color, she was careful as not to burn the wood as it would be ruined, and Gael did not have time to prepare a new branch.

Taking the remaining uncooked paste, Donal smeared the pungent mixture over his hands. Donal who wrinkled his nose at the smell.

“It tingles my hands and burns my nose — Aye, it is a strong mix. This will either cure you or kill you old friend!”

“Where is my bite rag?” Beli groaned. “Be good and sure it has the medicine in it.”

Conn brought the linen pouches that they made up for the procedure. One, moist but light in weight and green, the other that was heavier but dry and colored tan. Careful to kneel next to his mother as he held them out to Gael on a cleaned rock, who took the light one and handed the larger, heavier tan wrap to Donal who set it along on the edge of the heated rock.

Donal nodded at Gael and Beli, everything was ready.

“Put it in your mouth. Beli, bite down a few times.”. Gael gave no room for debate as she looked down at her husband, holding the thumb sized green rag to his lips.

“I know what to do!” Said Beli, with his voice muffled by the green linen bag.

“Shush and chew, husband.” She kissed his forehead. “Before I thump you.” The threat was without weight of malice. The only emotion she let be obvious, sharp she might be, he was the love of her life.

Donal looked at Conn, “I will need you to pack the wound with the flat of the willow-branch there. Scoop up the powder and dump it in and around the hole after I remove the spike until the bleeding stops or there is a pile over it. If he bleeds too much, your father will not stand a chance. But I venture an opinion that it has missed his vitals.”

One last breath Donal braced himself, wrapping his hand around the iron neck of the arrow-bolt, he held it for a moment, looking into the eyes of his friend and son-in-law’s father. Beli had become quiet. He had a familiar, dreamy look on his face and an odd glazed look in his eye that showed that he was already in an induced sleep.

“No pulsations from the shaft, this is a promising sign. Okay, straight out and easy.” Donal said quietly.

“Niamh, Conn hold on to his arms. Gael, keep him calm.” Drawing a deep breath, he looked at his old friend. “Beli, see you on the other side my brother.”

A gentle pull and Beli became wide-eyed with a grunt as the pain exploded through him. Gripping the green grass underneath him tightly.

“Keegan! Keegan! Tá brón orm! Fill ar ais go dom mo garmhac! Tar ar ais chugam!*” Beli screamed.

(*Keegan! Keegan! I am sorry! Return to me my grandson! Come back to me!)

Gael, kneeling at Beli’s head squeezed red juice from a cloth with bark and berries into her husband’s mouth, the extra plant extract calming him further. Taking care that Beli would not stop breathing under the narcotic effects of the herbal medicines, the effects were rapid and predictable.

Donal kept pulling, not letting up and not letting go for worry that it would do more damage as it returned to its resting place. But, if he pulled too hard it would cause a suction that could kill his patient.

Moments passed and the shaft did not move. Then slowly as Donal applied a little more pull on the arrow, it began to back out. Imperceptibly at first as sweat beaded on Donal’s forehead, then the arrow shaft started to move steadily backwards out of the chest of his best friend and family member.

It was out the length of a fingernail. Dried blood on the shaft was the marker how deep it had been.

“Pour some powder around the base of the shaft.” Donal told Conn.

“Keep him from moving his head as much, he flexes his muscles here and in his back when he moves. It is making it difficult and more painful.” Donal admonished Gael as he kept the tension on the shaft.

Width of a finger out.

The dart began to slide out of the wound more easily, the tapered shaft, Donal thanked the Gods it was not a broad head. Built with socket-fitted tip on the wooden arrow.  They forged the tip to penetrate armor and then wedge in the metal skin with the wood fibers, made for piercing armor and disabling but it was not efficient at killing.

Wisdom held that it took more men of the enemy to remove the wounded from the field of battle than to tend the dead. Those that were left then would have the archers come down and the killing would be done with knife, sword or ax on the battlefield.

Two fingers width of arrow withdrawn.

“More powder, get the cloth ready to staunch the bleeding.” A small trickle of blood was visible. Donal had one hand on the patients chest, pushing while the other hand pulled on the iron neck of the arrowhead.

With a wet sucking sound, the needle sharp arrowhead came out of Beli’s chest.

“Now, pour some powder in the hole and cover it up with the cloth and press firmly, until I tell you to stop.” Donal told Conn, “Not TO hard! Don’t break your father’s ribs. He won’t like that.”

His hand firmly over the hole and watching the blood soak into the cloth as he pressed directly on the wound, Conn was now sure that the old man was going to live. Donal carefully put down the blood-slicked spike. It was well made, fortune was with them, no barbs or splinters anywhere on the edges and no bleeding salts had been on the shaft. Donal did not cause more damage with the removal. The arrow did all the insult to the body at the moment when it entered his chest.

Turning back, “You can take your hand away,” Donal covered Conn’s hands and smiled. “apprentice, you have done well! You teach us how to build ships, we will teach you, yet, about herbs, medicines and how to heal.” Donal said as he dressed the wound with the bandages prepared by the women.

Conn chuckled, it had been a long time since anyone dared call him an apprentice, but here? Here he was well outside of his normal circles. Looking at his mother, she smiled at him, making him feel young again.

“You did well, Conn.” Croaked Beli, “Don’t you agree, Gael?”

“Shush, you old shoe.” Gael looked down at him. “You made me a near widow, when you are fit I will make you fear me more than death, enough to step away from any arrow. I will not do this again with you! I’ll find me a handsome young man and toss you out!”

Tears were in her eyes as she spoke, there was no conviction in the words. He might be an old shoe, but he was hers and she took care of all her belongings. She was the queen of collecting in the family and her family was her prize collection, Conn her only child and Beli her only mate. They taught and treated together many children and people, every day it was another family that needed to help a child born into the world or a negotiation between clans. Gael’s family was her soul.

Donal opened a pouch withdrew a couple of stones, setting one aside, then another.

“No, wrong effect. This one is wrong, too. There! This one.” Then with a skilled touch, Donal began to grind a small chip into a powder.

Conn looked and recognized a few of the stones in the pouch, many he did not.

“Bloodstone, feldspar, rubháid bairestone. What is this?”

“That, my son, is ‘Sruthfola’, it can cause severe bleeding. Only used in scant amounts to keep blood thin to promote healing on some injuries.” Beli whispered, “Or stuck into someone to cause them bleed for a long, long time without stopping.”

Conn looked at his father, he was still glassy-eyed from the herbal cloth that Gael pushed into his mouth, but he was still awake and able to talk.

“Dittany, is a plant that stops bleeding and promotes healing. I’ll be well enough in a day.” Moaned Beli, his voice a bit stronger now.

“NO! Beli! I will thump you!” Growled Gael, pulling her husband of so many seasons down to his back by an ear. “You will heal and rest.”

“She’s right. No herb or magic can take the place of healing. Magic can fix the problem, but the body must go back in balance.” Donal said to Beli, he would not dare oppose Gael now in any case.

“Then catch up with my son. He is walking with that look in his eye again. He is thinking of something.”

Dragon Master University Chapter 30. New Year, New Session

Standard

Chapter 30. New Year Session

Tired, sore muscles, a continual headache from boggling at history, teamwork and predicted future, not counting the lessons in magic taught by Cranndair the Green Wizard, the students walked, crawled and a few fluttered back to their rooms in the various houses they belonged to. All were bone-tired.

If anything, the Green Wizard taught with the students in a practical application, humans and dragons and those that had a bit of both, hugged and smiled as they parted company, instead of being in separate houses, they all knew they were of one house.

The House of The Green Man.

Sprite had grown even longer, although she had gained some length, her weight had not increased, she continued to grow longer but, like all children, she started to stretch out into a willow of a creäture.

Back in the house of Garnet, Jona walked to his room and found Sam-Sam had already returned and unpacked.

“Hi Jona! Are you back, visiting the lower side a bit with us? You don’t have a room on the brown garnet level, anymore. You have gone up on the scale. They should place you at least in blue, if not green, I’d say. You spent winter’s break with the Green Man. So you would have a room there.”

“I didn’t know. Where would I have found that change?”

“Professor Vale posted it on pillar by the front door.”

“Oh, ugh. I was too tired, the Green Wizard is about killed us all.”

“Yeah, he does that. He is spry for an old guy, a thousand years old and he can move a mountain with a finger. Not even Professor Vale is more powerful.” Sam said.

“That is because the Green Wizard lives with Nature.”

“Yeah, always in that mountain.” Sam nodded. “He has more power from the trees and rocks that he cares for.”

“No, it’s not that, his mate is Nature.” Jona laughed. “She is his spouse.”

“What?”

“Dude, didn’t you go to study with him once?”

“No, I was more interested in racing and never went, I learned all I wanted about him from those that have went there and came back all broken down and dirty.” Sam shook his head. “Teamwork, what good is that in a race with one-on-one paired rider and ride?”

“When the world has floods, fires, or earthquake, how do we help each other?”

“Well, how do…” A familiar voice interrupted Jona.

“Well, I thought you might be lost.” It was Kolo. “Well, sexy human, you do not live here anymore, your room is in another level, since you came back from the Green Man’s mentor program. Did you learn a lot?”

“Oh HI Kolo! Oh wow, did I ever!” Jona said.

“You lost weight.” She traced her finger over Jona’s left shoulder. “You look good. You could be ridden, looking like that. You would be a good training for a racer girl.”

“What?” Jona boggled.

“Never mind. You are sexy looking, just saying.” Kolo winked. “Come with me, we need to find your new room.”

“Okay.” Jona was still trying to get his mind around the flirt he had just gotten. Dragons were a strange group. They loved like no other, but loved one after another.

“Sam.” Kolo turned to Jona’s ex-roomie. “Come with me, you are on the Blue floor. It appears you did not check either.”

“I did! The color was brown.”

“You did not have a color until this morning. Your grades have improved and the professors were talking about keeping you and Jona together. Jona is a good influence on you it seems.”

“He just showed me around.” Jona said.

“Jona, you got him to attend class. Attendance is the single most important thing in school, even if you don’t work, the professors feel that you absorb information by sitting there with your eyes open. Sam has been at ever class last session.”

“Well, I’ll have to pack.”

“I’ll send Wynter for you.”

“AH! I’ll be packed in two minutes! Don’t send the Wyvern for me!” Sam jumped up and was immediately stuffing clothes into a pillow-slip and wrapping the rest up in his big wool blanket he brought from home.

“Why is he worried about Wynter?”

“Wynter is a wyvern, and he has no patience for lower level students. He is especially angry with Sam-Sam, they’re related and he bragged about Sam being smarter than most everyone around before this little hatchling arrived.” Kolo laughed. “I think Wynter would roll Sam up in the blanket and play football down the hallway with him.”

“Football?”

“Yeah, you kick it, until it gets to where you want it to go.”

“Ooooh!” Jona laughed, imagining Sam-Sam the Dragon, already in hot water with his family, being used as a sports toy.

“Here we are. Green level.” Kolo said, her tail swaying in a more serpentine way when she was walking in front of Jona. Jona could hear the other men whisper to each other when they walked in.

“Kolo, why is he here? This is a Brown Level Garnet.” A red dragon with vestigial-black wings and eye-brow scales said. Chain mail that glittered in the light when the dragon moved, they had arms like some other people had legs.

Very muscular legs.

“Mars, this is Jona, he just came back from winter break with the Green Wizard. He passed with the wizard giving him a pat on the back and an invitation to come back.”

“Well! That is different, welcome Jona. I am Mars, the senior leader of the game-players club. Do you play Drake and Hunter?”

“I never heard of it.”

“Awesome, you are human? If you get to enjoy this and want to play a lot, you can join our club. The only requirements are good grades and play at least a bit every day.” Mars nodded, his scales glistened like polished jewels. If one did not know that he was a dragon, one would thing he was human dressed in fine scale armor.

“Mars,” Kolo smiled and traced her finger over his ear (Mars’ eyes dialated and Jona swore he could hear the scales shake.) “Would you ask that Jona have a tutor to keep his grades up? Professor Vale has requested that Jona keep his studies going from the Green Man. Jona is a racer and a good one at that.”

“You do can keep doing that, Kolo, but so that you know I’d do it anyway.” Mars laughed. Turning to Jona. “She is the one that keeps Garnet house going. And she is cute.”

Mars shook his head to clear his vision.

“You know how to touch my feelers,” Mars sighed and Kolo laughed softly.

Jona laughed awkwardly as the pretty girl dragon flirted with the brawny leader of the Green level.

“Where is my room?” Jona asked.

“This way,” Kolo smiled. “You have a choice, Green Level has had a change in tenants here. A few have not kept up their grades, another has aced her studies and has moved up from Emerald to Gold level.”

“What is Emerald level?”

“This one. We call it green informally, but the official term is Emerald. Blue is Sapphire, Brown is Rough.”

“Rough?”

“As in unpolished and dirty.”

“Oooh!” Jona said as Kolo led him to his room.

“Here is where you will stay. Mars’ is at the end of the hall, he has a private room, most of his club members meet there. You will have no one else in this room for a while. So I will check on you from time to time to make sure you are keeping your studies up.”

“Mars will, too?”

“Yes, it is important to the house that we keep our ratings up. It is a contest between each house who has the highest ranked students. It will also give you a chance to study with the Green Wizard once again.”

“I’m not sure I can survive another round with him.” Jona laughed.

“It will do you good. You will find studying here is easier than with that old man.”

A soft voice behind Jona, a human girl with tight curly hair and dark skin whispered to the new arrival.

“That is for sure, the Green Wizard made me want to come back so much, I made sure my grades were high enough I could go again.”

“I did not see you there.” Jona said.

“Part of my skills, I’m a member of the Fae.”

“The who?”

“No, that is a music group in about a hundred centuries, I am fae.” She smiled, probing eyes looked into his eyes to see if he understood the joke. “My family are more magical than dragons.”

“A fairy?”

“No, well, in a stretch of the sense, I suppose, I can change size.”

“You can get bigger?”

“Ohh, no. I am at my largest now, I can get smaller, a lot smaller.” She smiled. “My name is Retta. This is my last year.”

“Pleased to meet you.”

Watching her walk away, she wore her armor like it someone painted it on and then oiled over the leathery parts until she shimmered when she walked.

Kolo laughed.

“Human boys are so much fun. Brain damaged since puberty and it takes years to have enough blood to run all your parts at the same time.”

Laughing at himself, Jona moved into his new room that he had no one to share with.

The second session in the main school of Dragon Master University was going to be fascinating.

Instructive, anyway.

Dragon Master University Chapter. 29. Gorgons. Myth or Fact?

Standard

Chapter 29. The Gorgon, Myth or Fact?

 

 

Walking up and down between the chairs, the Green Wizard showed signs of the last of the green leaves that sprouted from his beard and hat where turning brown in the dead of winter.

Known for his ability with the plants, his were the last to die back, the first to sprout anew.

He was the Green Man.

“The cycle of life in the forest changes with the place on this world. In two places, not a tree grows, the sun in winter never rises, in summer it never sets. Here, where I hold sway, snow falls last, although around us, snow piles up during the winter and feeds the streams and ponds you see around the mountain. Life goes on and renews.“ He walked slowly, the hat he wore had cocoons in various places, one hibernating furry creäture that no one could identify, curled up on the moss lined brim. “In the spring, six weeks from now, you will be back here to study if your professors believe you’re ready for that level.”

Standing in the middle of the classroom, the Wizard eschewed the traditional straight lines of how most classrooms at the University taught. Teaching instead that, nature abhors straight lines. A tap with his staff on the middle of the floor, the Green Wizard displayed the night sky on the ceiling of the room.

“In an age past, dragons roamed the sky like the birds of today. They are descendants of a great civilization, destroyed by a group of small dragons and humans that worshiped destruction and death. They title of the leaders of this group was the Csu.” The Green Wizard looked around. “Remember this, those who seek a single solution to life, a single rule, death is the result. Life is a chorus, man, dragon, woman, swimmer, flyer. All the others that we have spoken of in the past weeks. The steps each takes is different and follows, will follow, and has followed a slightly different path.”

Smiling, as he paused for effect.

“Whether you have skin or scale, each has a life to live and the creative ability to impress the world.” Turning a slow circle, the stars changing. “The Csu did not believe this. One answer, one voice to the deity they spoke to. Death and destruction was their answer to it all. Trees fell, whole communities wiped from the earth. Then they met the Gorgon in battle.”

A hand raised up. T’sing’s eyes were bright with curiosity,the small dragon from the far side of the world was willow thin and beautiful. Her side of the world, dragons are good luck to have in a family. A dragon that graduated from school such as DragonMaster U, was doubly so. Human graduates in the same family, members considered them as the seed of a dynasty.

One such family, had sent a human son, Qin, with T’sing to attend together. Together they promised to build a country that would last forever.

“Sir, who is Gorgon? My mother told me when I was very young to stay indoors, because Gorgon would eat small dragons and humans alike.”

“Good question, T’sing.” The Green Man said. “The proper term is they are the Gorgon, it is a group of Gorgon, the race of the amphibian creatures are as different as Gorilla and Human, but without the gulf of intelligence. They have their own society, and while they do not fear dragonkind, they do avoid them. It was not until the Csu got involved with the Gorgon, at great cost, that the leadership of the Gorgon converted to the Csu religion. We will discuss the Csu religion another time, but the Gorgon are something to cover now.”

Another tap of his staff on the floor of the room, images ran across the ceiling.

“The Csu with the Gorgon army now under their control, swept out of the warm seas of the lower latitudes, catching dragons and humans alike unaware and unprepared. Humans were given a choice to convert to the way of the Csu book of laws, or die. Dragons received no such consideration, called instead as throwbacks to an age where great lizards walked the earth, cousins to Gorgon who tolerated no competition for skies and sea for food. They slaughtered dragons everywhere they found them.”

A gasp from the classroom.

“I was but in my fiftieth summer then. Professor Vale was, and still is, my son and protoge’.”

“Sir, did you have a name during that time?” Jona asked.

“Aye, I did. Though I scarcely remember it. Cranndair, if I recall.” The mentor stroked his beaded facial hair in thought. “No matter. Regardless, the Csu fell only when there was a rise in a sect within their own ranks. Sensing the division, The Gorgon as a body rebelled against the law of the Csu.”

Waving his staff, the huge Gorgon armies stopped chasing dragons and humans, turning instead on their masters.

“The Csu are the single most effective lesson on domination. People of any kind, Dragon, Human or Gorgon give their loyalty voluntarily. Force of threat, of death to family or self always ends up in failure.” He looked at the class. “Call it what you will, but the force of fealty at the point of sword, tooth or claw is bound for failure.”

“But Sir, if you hold by force, they cannot break it.”

“No empire has ever stood on force alone.” Cranndair the Mentor said. “In my studies, I see a human empire that will rise and last for over a thousand-year period and become the greatest civilization that the humans will ever know. What we learn here, will allow dragons to also be a part of that. If we are not fully successful, Dragonkind hide in the cracks of human society, but Dragons will survive. In those days after the wars and the fall of the Csu, The Gorgon did what they do. They withdrew from all societies and to their caves. Content to hibernate and only come out on rare occasions to forage.”

“It is their way to devastate an area, many humans put it down to demons, Dragonkind however, blame such things as natural disasters and storms.” Rubbing his nose. “Often it is the Gorgon causing storms, floods and volcanic destruction. Some human societies still blame dragons.”

“How does a society endure for a long time?” They asked nearly as a body of students. Everyone of the large group nodding. He rarely took this many, but his son, Vale, talked him into it, saying that the students this year were exceptional.

The old man smiled. Hunger for knowledge had started today.

No longer lecturing to bland minds that could not care less for law and lore, or math and science, these seeds of the future now wanted to know where they came from, so they could see where they were going in their growth.

Much as he hated teaching, he loved when children learned.

It would be another age, an age of ages into the future, that the “Light Bulb” would illuminate in their minds.

(*Author’s Note To Pronounce The Following Word:

Csu: “Chew” is closest that a human can say.)

 

 

Dragon Master University Chapter 27. Jona hates Logs

Standard

Chapter 27. Jona Hates Logs

Every one, dragon and human, male or female dragged in after six hours to eat lunch.

The Green Wizard stood in the door with his arms crossed, having watched the chaos that was the effort to put the logs in the holes.

They had pushed, pulled, used ropes and the water dragon- twice the size of a normal full grown male human and named after his ancestor, Kraken- used knots to keep the ropes from slipping.

Big levers made from saplings the students rolled, dragged, sledged, wedged the logs into place.

Each one of the students were tired to their core, on the eating tables behind the Green Wizard, piles of mashed potatos, vegetables that steamed with fresh salted butter sitting in bowls, large meat-plates with fish and roast-beast.

“Stop!” The green leaves in his beard trembled with the force of his command. “You have failed the test. Only six of twelve I see are in place as directed.”

“But sir,” Jona spoke. “They are larger than all of us.”

Jona spoke the truth. One log was so large across that he could stand at the cut end and rest his chin on the bark, and his toes would barely be at the ground.

And for a human, Jona grew into a tall youth. The tree, the Wizard alluded that it was a branch off the main trunk in his lectures, was enormous.

And yet, the Green Man tapped his leaf-sprouting staff on the ground, and the succulent foods… vanished.

Replaced with pitchers of ice water, weak teas and bread. Cheeses on plates, but only just enough.

In the glen, each log lifted out of their respective holes and floated up to the landing on the hill above and neatly stacked themselves.

The old man did not need them to do the work, it was a test, as he said.

“I instructed each of you to work as a team, to use your strengths. And yet?” He looked to each and every one of the small class of students. “You spend all your time crawling around in the mud like children, getting aches and pains, covered in slime, bugs, fungus.”

The Wizard plucked a mushroom out of the hair of a human girl, Zeva, and sniffed it.

“Death’s head mushroom. Very deadly. But not ready for class. That’s next week.” He said, tossing it to the earth, where it walked back to where it came from.

“Precocious young fruit, that was. Rather persnickety.” Then looking back at the class. “You will eat what is on your plates and no more. Then return to the hill again. There will be a six-hour test again, no breaks. Twelve logs, one in to each hole. Then you can eat the meals of champions, but not until you have finished to my satisfaction.”

The eyes of the Green Wizard passed over each grimy and exhausted face of the students.

“But mister Wizard, the day has been long now.”

“Then go home. You wish to learn about each other, every dragon lives on the wish of human, every human lives as long as a dragon wills it. No one can live without the other in this world, some humans have taken upon themselves to rid the world of dragon-kind. They will kill other humans in the hunt for dragon. You must find a way to work together. “ He looked around “Go eat. I will lecture while you are in there.”

They all filed in. The bread was fresh and warm with a crackly crust of herbs and salt crystals. A woman came in and carried plates of bread, putting a large slice on each plate in front of the humans and dragons. Two large slices for the larger dragons, a whole loaf for Kraken, the largest of the students.

While they ate, the Green Wizard, the wise man of the mountain began to walk along the tables.

“You all dragged the logs down that hill.” He looked around. “Koan, why did you use ropes to drag?”

“Sir, we could not roll them all the way, there is no room to do so, we would flatten the entire forest.”

“Aye, that would be true. What options did you have?”

“We could have carried them.”

“Ach! No!” The grandfatherly eyes beneath the white eyebrows got big. “One of you slip, the log comes down and I have no more class.”

“We cannot make them float as you do.” Jona said.

“No?” The old man stroked his beard. “I must be teaching wrongly. I thought I taught medicine and critical thinking.”

“Sir.” Kraken spoke up after stuffing a loaf of bread with the scant, cold meat that was on his plate. “We pushed and tried to lift.”

“Did you?” He stroked his beard again. “Did you try to lift it together?”

“That was dangerous, like you said.” Jona said.

“Aye,” The old man nodded. “But you have both ropes and some of you have wings?”

The entire room went quiet.

The Green Wizard smiled softly.

“A dragon has lifting power well beyond what even they know. That small dragon on your shoulder, Jona, could lift you off your feet if she had to.”

“I think Sprite is male.” Jona corrected.

“Oh. Well, still the truth is there.” The old man nodded. “How many flyers of your size or larger is in this room?”

Again, the room went silent.

“You have six hours.” The mentor said and stood in the room. “By my calculations, if you do it correctly, you will finish in less than one-hour. The food you saw before, will be waiting for you and the day finished. You will be free for the next two days.”

Never had Jona eaten so quickly, and still he was not the first to finish as dragons and humans gathered outside to plan their mission.

As predicted by their mentor, they were done in less than an hour.

Dragon Master University Chapter 26. The Logs, The Holes And The Challenge

Standard

Chapter 26. The Logs, The Holes And The Challenge

The old mentor was exhausting in his teachings. Six-days of classes, one day off to study the notes he lectured about. It was as if the Green Wizard expected them to learn a sport.

If they did something, they did it together.

Plus, any comments made to each other that the wizard considered off-color, weird things happened to remind the offending student that it was unacceptable behavior. Never could a boy or a dragon say that someone could not do this or that because being a weaker gender or species. 

A chair would fail suddenly, or disappeared entirely, dumping the offending student on the floor or the old man was right there, like a ghost breathing in the students ear, handing him or her a broom or shovel to go clean some miserable corner of the forest glen. 

Then a miserable chore to build the teacher’s house.

Like today.

Early in the morning on the first day of the weekly class cycle, the Green clad and bearded instructor appeared in the rooms and banged his staff on the floor.

Not hard, but the sound was as if an explosion in a volcano erupted.

Even the deepest, sleeping dragon sat straight up on cue in their bed.

And it’s said that a dragon could sleep for centuries, through anything a humans might do.

This morning, however, each dragon was up, humans ran about gathering clothes. Following the green-clad wizard appeared to wear leaves in his beard and hair today.

“Shoes and footwear today, each one of you must dress accordingly. Even dragon’s scaled feet and claws may be injured.” The voice of distant thunder echoed in the clearing.

“Your challenge is a simple one. A circle of pillars, made of the logs that sit on a landing on the hill, there.” The Green Man pointed. “Each of the timbers are from an immortal tree and each one is alive and waiting for planting in fertile soil. Each of these you will carefully place in the holes indicated by the sunspark that dances above it.”

Walking around inside the circle of students.

“You are few, but you have knowledge on how to plant growing things.” The Wizard said. “Be honest with yourselves. Work together and create a cathedral here that would stand against the tests of time and weather. There are six-hours to do this challenge in. You will eat afterwards. There will be no breaks until you have completed your task.” The Green leaf-covered slave-driver looked around. “Fail? Then you will return to the school as lower class students to repeat the year before.”

The whispers of shock moved through their ranks with the speed of thought. 

“I can’t go back as lower caste!”

“What would my parents say?”

“This is my first year.” Jona thought. “How can I get lower?”

“Go!” The Green Wizard’s voice echoed in the forest and their heads.

It was a long…

Long…

Long day.

Jona never missed Sprite nearly so much as he did that day. 

DragonMaster University Chapter 25. The Green Man

Standard

Chapter 25. The Green Man

Professor Vale did not tell tall tales about the Green Wizard.

Born before hair! It was true!

Jona nearly broke out laughing, the Green Wizard’s beard was as white as a snowfall, but the moment the wizard took his hat off and bowed to his new students, the gleam from his head would have blinded an earthworm.

Remembering the warning that the Professor had given, Jona would never. Ever.

‟Never talk about the bare skinned head.”

Such a shine that resided under the peaked hat, Jona had no doubt that he could track the head in the dark if he had no hat on.

‟Ah, now we have you all here. Tonight, find your rooms, you will see your names on each room in the tower.” The beard, tied and retied in a maze of beads and knotted and colored silk, moved in complex ways when the Green Wizard spoke. The effect was slightly hypnotic.

Jona walked up the wide stairs to the second level of the cavernous home. Set into the side of a mountain, the small cabin opened up into the cliff face, an area wide enough to seat a hundred students in the amphitheater inside.

‟And he only takes a few at once.” Jona said to himself as he found his room.

Walking inside, the room was an efficient design, a single bed with two pillows and a small blanket with Sprite’s name embroidered on it.

Sprite, riding on Jona’s shoulder— nearly both shoulders these days, since being with larger dragons, Sprite had grown rapidly. Something he had learned in Dragon Health and Growth class. Dragons grew faster and larger when around larger dragons, Sprite was now maturing at a phenomenal rate.

The days would be insufferable without the little guy. A hard day with the Green Man in a jokingly distant relation to a kitchen, the thunderous voice rated them on their knowledge and skills. Today was medicines and pain-killers from the twigs of a willow tree.

The tea that Jona produced would curl the spines of the largest dragon, but, the Green Wizard said it was good medicine for many ailments and pains.

“Just be carefull when using this tea. In concentrated form, it can cause more harm than good.” The old man said with a frown as he imposed the intense lessons into the class while the students stood around the tables.

Glass jars, sharp knives, Koan the human who was a quarter dragon, it was a full classroom.

Jona liked to stand so that she was always in sight. Koan’s hair was brilliantly red and orange, giving clues to her family heritage. Her black eyes were counterpoint to the lighter skin, an inherited trait of the dragon that was her ancestor.

“Tsing! You are cooking down this batch of tea too strongly! It will cause bleeding, you will have a greater problem than a mild fever or ache.”

“But, sir,” The slender dragon from the east nodded. “But it was not the right color.”

“You have boiled the liquid down by half, you have doubled the strength. This will make it dangerous for dragon or human alike to partake, unless you dilute it. If you concentrate it any more, it will become toxic to the touch for dragons.”

“Toxic to the touch?”

“Aye. A concentration in the right proportions helps for pain and fever for dragons. Too much, if it’s concentrated, will soak in through the dragon’s skin, underneath the scales. This will cause effects from bleeding to madness and death.”

“Yes, professor.”

“ACH! I am not a professor. I am your mentor, teacher and foster-father if need. I am not one of those passive spewing, race course, long-winded politician want-to-be’s. More than half of those professors there, human and dragon alike, would run from a fight. They have no clue what it is to sacrifice for anyone. They teach, they have not done anything.” His eyes sparkled with repressed fury.

Jona was taken aback, the Green Wizard was not joking. Remembering that Professor Vale said that the Green Wizard was his father. That Vale had sacrificed his humanity for the village of people and his wife.

That was the reference about not knowing what it was like to sacrifice.

The Green Wizard taught in different ways.

Dear Universe: Chapter 2. Be Continued

Standard

2. Be Continued

Smoke was heavy as the ‟helo” came in for a landing on the mountaintop. Winds were unpredictable, but the hand crew deployed quickly as they expertly handed out the tools of their trade.

Brush hooks – a kind of curve-bladed ax that looks like a shepard’s staff with a razor’s edge that they used to cut and drag brush out of the fire break

Pulaski grubbing tools – An ax on one side and a trenching and grubbing tool on the other. Looks like a cousin to a pick.

McLeod – a hoe and rake combination built on the toughest proportions. Probably the least favorite tool that the crews used, but the most useful.

The R-5 Fire shovel. A short-handled round nose shovel with a sharpened edge for cutting through roots and digging quickly. Used for scraping ground and throwing dirt on fire for direct suppression. Often used to do final clean up by the firefighter crew and are last in line of a firefight often called the drag shovel.

Firefighter bodies were ready for this. Trained, hardened by repeated morning abuse called ‟Physical Training”. The team of men and woman would perform a series of stretches and aerobic exercises that ended with a five-mile run. All before sunrise and breakfast.

All summer, they would sweat more before breakfast than most people did all day. Polishing and sharpening their tools, checking equipment, then a half hour after breakfast they would load up and head to scheduled  projects for inspection or maintenance of brush clearing on roadways in the back-country. Gloves and hard-hats worn, they would test or inspect construction areas. There was little area of the mountainous terrain that they did not step foot in, a thousand square-miles that they protected with their brethren of other operational bases or centers. Dad often called her “Princess” and told her of things he did during the days he was away in his letters.

‟Continuing: It is twelve-hours later, we have cut almost five-kilometers of line in an area that is too hazardous for bulldozers. I’m seriously tired, but we need to eat here in a bit, the sun has gone down and we are now in a parking lot-sized area where the helicopters land. I see a comfy rock that we are going to sleep on in a little while. In the meantime, my meal is cooking in a can. Someone brought some spam (Yes, I know, but when you are hungry and tired, everything is a banquet!) and we are cooking it over a candle powered stove in its own can.”

‟We need to eat and then get back to the line, we are to join up with another crew that is cutting towards us. The fire is about two miles off.. probably you use metric when you are reading this so that would be a little over three kilometers and moving in our direction. We are cutting this line below the ridge top and backfiring as we go. (That is, we are burning it up to the ridge.) Food! Be back later. Don’t go away.”

She laughed. Writing on paper and he puts her on hold. ‟Don’t go away.” Once again, reminded that he was always next to her in her heart.

She remembered and loved his sense of humor.

‟Back! It is now another ten-hours later, I’m making a hike out with the rest of the crew. We had crews airlifted in, but we were out of position to get a ride, so… While we are on a break from our walk out I need to catch you up, quick. We cut a line around this old hill and hooked up with the Pine Mountaineers crew, your mom’s old party station. My crew, Iron Canyon Kings were with them when the USFS did a backfire that became a giant operation. It was not planned. (HAHAHA!) the small backfire kinda backfired. But it stopped the main front in the end. It was USFS’s game plan, but the vegetation was dryer than predicted and a bit of an uphill wind did more than expected. No one was hurt, but I don’t think the US Forest Ranger will handle a drip-torch like that again. HAHA! The backfire flared a bit more than planned and there were a few moments of a significant pucker-factor.”

She laughed. His stories of the fireline were always an adventure.

‟Anyway, we’re hiking again. We have three hours of steady walking to go, after that? I get on a bus and head back to the deployment area. We have been out here for two-weeks now and I expect the fire  will be fully contained by the end of our down-time. Three days before this all started, your mom said we were expecting you to join us in less than a year. This is simply awesome! Anyway. Not much to write as far as a letter goes. This little bit o’paper will get stuffed into a file somewhere along with many others I hope to write. Anyway. Love you, (baby boy or baby girl!) Dad.

PS. Need to get used to that now, don’t I?”

She missed him, wherever he was. The advertisement in the magazine for wildland firefighters to go to a third world country that was suffering from a severe drought and fires that were threatening to devastate the ecology and economy.

The large salary offered was too tempting to pass up. So Dad went when it was winter in the northern hemisphere to fight fires at the bottom of the world for six months.

And never came home.

A year later, a the government sent a half-dozen boxes back. The helicopter transporting firefighters crashed with only one broken radio call for help. The helicopter identifier called with ‟Mayday!” then silence. Destruction of the air transport was complete, some of the local war-clans had stripped the damaged aircraft and burned the rest without thought of reporting or even admission of involvement.

Of a dozen-firefighters and two pilots in the flight, the charred remains of the only ones that could be identified were in coffins.

The search and rescue reported that the area around the Blackhawk transport was:

‟Complete combustion of airframe and personnel.”

Official speak for nothing was left.

So she stood with a file folder of hand-written letters tucked into a handwritten book of spells, looking over the rail of the bridge and the (now empty) jar of ashes that an investigator liaison had collected at the scene and sent to the families. Five years since the helicopter went down, mom still talked as if he were just about to walk through the door. 

When she was younger, it made an odd sense of being closer to him and she was wishing she was a witch practicing “white magic” and had said a spell over a few hairs she had recovered from his bristle brush he used and some glitter that she scraped from the family portrait frame he made years ago. She and mom had a huge fight over that.

It was disrespectful, mom said through her tears.

It was the last time she tried any kind of magic, until now.  Now it was in the water, the final act of the complex spell.  She had one last thing to do, it was an immature effort, perhaps, but it was all she had.

Cassiopeia O’Danu dropped a yellow rose into the waters as they flowed out into the Pacific ocean with the second part of the complex spell spoken in Old Irish.

While Cassi watched the rose of remembrance float away to its destination. She included one wish after she finished with the spell she had read from the pages of her book. 

The wish? She had said it before, but anything to help increase the force of the spell of return.

‟Dad, come home.”

Dragon Master University Chapter 24. Autumn Winds

Standard

Chapter 24. Autumn Winds

Professor Ghoti walked through the classroom, her wings pulled up tightly against her body as she walked among the desks. Her prehensile tail Holding her clipboard in front of her as she passed out papers for taking notes on environment stresses.

‟Remember the lectures, each dragon and human lives on the land and in the water. Destruction of any of these alters the destiny of the future and those that live in it. Great dragons that abused their skills and powers and found themselves opposed by great humans who had altruistic goals, only then subsumed by those that followed that would destroy the lands in the name of wealth.” She looked around. ‟Greed, it is an illness that possesses dragon and human alike. Take notes well, my young souls, you must know the history of those that wished to have power and wealth over everyone to the destruction of themselves.”

‟Professor.” It was a young dragon from the north, sitting behind Jona, he barely came up to Jona’s shoulder, his sapphire-blue eyes sparked with high intelligence. ‟Isn’t greed a cause of conflict between all the people of the earth?”

Jona looked at him, his pupils where six pointed, re-enforcing the look of eyes made from star-sapphires.

‟A lust for power and wealth, yes. Two ambitious souls, whether they have scale or hair, will end in conflict. Coexistence is what we learn, contest and struggle is how we entertain ourselves, but that is a class for another time. Today, we are talking about humans that cut whole forests to build, dragons that will dig great holes to strip a mountain of its wealth in gold and silver. Even minds as bright as yours in this room, find attraction to things that glitter. It is the nature of human and dragon, and the point of conflict. Humans have a talent as hunters and creators of wealth. Dragons have abilities to smell gold and silver, able to create works of art so large that the human eye cannot see them for the scale they are on. Only from above where the eyes of the dragonkind are common, humankind must fly with cooperation of dragons to see what they have created.”

‟Professor, I don’t understand.” Kalam, a sand-dragon, slender and athletic. An outcast of a flying-dragon family, he preferred to swim than fly. ‟I missed your point. Why do dragons create such large works of art that it cannot be seen from the ground?”

‟Why do some artists paint? Why do others sculpt? Still others write with a touch of a brush to make words look like beautiful images but still tell a story?” Professor Ghoti smiled. ‟We are all different, a dragon may live longer than a human, but a human can create such things of beauty as to capture the heart of a dragon. This is where the conflict happens. To a human, an area that has gold just laying on the ground where no one has tread a foot for hundreds of years, the human will pick up the gold to create something, unknowingly violating a dragon-artist’s creation. To the dragon, a hundred years is but a night’s sleep, it is an insult to their ambitious work.”

The entire class nodded, understanding.

‟In the places of the world where dragon and human have come in conflict, whole ranges of mountains are denuded, weather changes, the land dies.” The Professor frowned. ‟A land, once of verdant trees and life. Now is a devastated and desiccated desert. Nothing grows, humans and dragons alike avoid the area. The only thing that lives there are scorpions and small insects.”

Rapt attention by those that sat in attendance, hung on her words. Love of the earth, care for one and another. tolerance to all living things, was given as lessons.

Some took Professor Ghoti’s words to heart, others, like rain on the leaves of the trees, just slid off to the ground.

Those would be the students who returned the next year until they passed the Professor’s exit interviews for her classes.

A fortnight gone past, the shortest day was upon the high-mountain college that overlooked the lake with the waters so clear, the ice was nearly as blue as the deep water.

In the common room, Professor Vale spoke to the gathered students.

‟Winter break is upon us. Those dragons who are of the desert regions will be departing in the afternoon after tomorrow. The great black dragon of Sempervirens House will be departing with a flight, those that cannot fly the distance or speed and those swimmers of tropical nature may ride in the coach.” Vale nodded. ‟Humans will be met by their parents or guardians. Jona, please see me after this.”

A collective ‟Oo!” raced through the nearly two-hundred hearts of the common room.

Jona’s heart fell. This would be the time that a student would be ‟uninvited” to return.

With great trepidation he stayed behind after the announcements, Vale was kind, but as a dragon, he followed rules to a fault. As a professor, he had the power to flex the rules somewhat.

Then, Vale spoke. The words were quite different from what he worried about.

‟Jona, I have written your parents and I have informed them of your schooling.” Professor Vale inspected the claws of his forepaw.”You have done well for a child-human of less than twenty-summers. Not perfect, but quite well, better than your mother had predicted.” Professor Vale nodded. ‟I give credit to Kolo for that. You remind me of myself when I was learning these lessons. Seems like it was just last year I started here as a human.”

‟Professor.” Jona interrupted. ‟Was there a school back then?”

‟I see you need to take the class for your timing on humor, still.” Vale gave Jona a sideways glance. ‟You, young master, will be studying some makeup classes you are weak on with a special tutor.”

Professor Vale gave Jona a wink.

‟You and four others get to study with the Green-Wizard.” Vale puffed out his chest. ‟My father.”

‟Your… HUMAN father?” Jona said. ‟I thought he was old?”

‟He is older than hair. But do not ever mention that or you will find out how difficult life can be.” Vale laughed softly. ‟Still, you will attend his training, but know this! He takes very few students, he teaches in serious words. In his opinion, you will come to him with a head full of sawdust, and if you survive his lessons, you will come back thinking like an upperclassman.”

Jona felt a pang of fear and curiosity.

How does an upperclassman think?

Dragon Master University Chapter 23. Baby Talk

Standard

Chapter 23. Baby Talk

The weekend. Racing with Eva, Kolo and Qo’noS, he’d gotten chilled and was so terribly exhausted. So much so that he felt like a party lizard (A term he had picked up in the day-room) crawling in after a weekend binge.

He collapsed on to his bed and felt a lump under his pillow struggle.

Sprite crawled out and complained in a whiny voice, then saw who it was.

‟Papa! Papa papa papa papa papa!” Sprite squeaked while bouncing up and down. Eventually settling into the crook of Jona’s arm, licking the neck and ear of Sprite’s favorite human.

His papa.

Jona shushed Sprite while he drifted off to sleep. If anyone could slur a shush, Jona did it as his eyes closed.

Then the papa’s eyes popped open.

‟SPRITE!” Jona jumped up. ‟You talked!”

‟Papa! Papa papa!” The little dragon fluttered and hovered in the air in front of Jona, over the bed.

Laughing, Jona knew Sprite would learn to talk eventually. Still, not comfortable with the fact he was the dad, everyone else in the school took it as a right of passage. Many had, what Jona thought at first as pets, but found out that small dragons reflected that the heart of dragons loved at least as deep as humans.

Just longer. Much, much longer.

After a few minutes to recover from the shock, he held Sprite in his arms and stroked the glass smooth scales that covered the small winged-body.

Settling down, Jona smiled as the little body curled up under his chin, licking a few times, then going into a slumber that, curiously, sounded like a snore.

Only a pint-sized snore.

It was quite relaxing, and Jona slipped off to sleep with Sprite in his arms.

Together, they slept in similar poses.

Jona and Sprite performed a slow, synchronised sleeping ballet in the blankets.

Later, when the sun would rise, Jona would be roused out of bed by his friends. Although he would wonder if they were indeed his friends, for now all Jona wanted, was sleep.

Dragon Master University Chapter 22. Morningtime

Standard

Chapter 22. Morning Time

Jona walked between classes as he was in deep thought, Eva landed next to him in the courtyard.

“We did very well,” She said softly while folding her wings tightly against her body and walking upright. ‟We bumped two trees and you held on. I have a small bruise where I knocked off four of my scales, but they will grow back soon enough.”

Walking upright, she was beautiful even outside of Dragon standards. Eva would have made a graceful, beautiful human woman.

Who just happened to tower over most other humans.

Jona chuckled, his own joints hurt, the inverted banking as they did a hairpin turn around a mountain to catch up with Qo’noS had nearly dumped him off the back of Eva, it was a turn they were going to have to practice, he only was able to hang on by luck as much as strength or skill. Even his fingernails ached.

“Jona, I have talked with others about the future races,” Eva said conversationally as they walked along. ‟I have someone I am seeing. He is a dragon at Drakensberg University.”

Eva smiled, touching her lips as if a memory of a kiss. Dragon kisses, it is rumored, to leave a soul burning for more.

‟I know that there is some cheating planned. There have been observers on the race course, we may have to train in other areas of the mountains. Where is Teva? We need to talk to him.”

Sol landed nearby and walked up to them, looking happier without reins on his shoulders, rubbing up against Eva with a wink.

“Flirt.” Eva laughed softly.

“Drakenberg racers are notorious for cheating but there is something more. Jona, your safety is in danger.” Sol said.

‟My rider seeks to have you removed one way or another, she is not above cheating. So long as she rides me, we will never win, I will never cross the finish line first.” Sol said grimly, “Even if I have to crash at the last stretch. She will never stand in the winners circle.”

“I hate that we keep trying to knock you out of the race, Eva,” Sol nodded slowly, guiltily looking down. “You too, Jona, my most sincere of apologies. But it is late in the season, I cannot train with a rider and I cannot win with her riding. She has no winning heart.”

“Thanks,” Jona smiled and put his hand on the golden dragons shoulder. ‟And we will avoid you, you are a great flier, you have done fantastic corners.”

“Drakes’ will have faster rides,” Eva continued. ‟They are larger than we are as a group. Most are Kanus’ size, a few are bigger.”

Sol and Jona nodded.

Jona pointed out that they had the advantage then of the corners in the valleys, then paused.

“Could they go high and go over a corner? Avoid banking?”

Sol shook his head while Eva answered.

“They would be penalized with time added on. So even if they crossed the line first, they may actually lose the race if they skipped too many corners.”

“Even if they flew faster than anyone at the beginning,”Sol added. ‟If they didn’t get down into the canyons, a record pace would be for naught.”

Eva nodded as Jona pulled at his chin and took this in.

“There has been something else, a smell, I have picked it up, you have been busy racing and I have been sight-seeing.” Sol added, “Something smells, I don’t know.” He paused “The smell on the most strong in the northern canyon, where we go lowest and the turns are sharpest and we fly slowest, the smell makes my scales tingle.”

Eva paused, pulling at her ear.

“I thought that was just the group of us racing, the challenge of the corners and how close we were getting to each other.” She said thoughtfully.

“You have been racing, I have not.” Sol nodded.

“Spies?” Jona asked.

“Maybe.” Sol said.

“Spies would be undetectable.” Eva shook her head. ”Volcanic action, Sol? Can you smell volcano’s?”

Sol gave a nearly imperceptible shrug.

“There are those in my family who can, I have not smelled them before. Could be that this time I am smelling the start of a volcano’s eruption. This would affect the race, if we had to fly through a cloud.”

“If the race is going to go through an ash cloud, we would have to avoid it.” Eva nodded.

“Not so much for you,” Jona shook his head. ‟But for the humans and others that don’t have the kind of lungs that a dragon possesses.”

Both dragons looked at Jona and nodded.

“Not counting the lightning that happens, that is also kind of hard on the teams, as well.” Eva added.

Jona choked.

“Lightning? As in thunder and lightning?” Jona was afraid of thunderstorms since he was a child.

“I will tell Professor Ghoti, she is in charge of the racer’s safety, it is important that she and the other judges and professors look in the area.” Sol said mildly. “I’m the one that smelled it, I’ll be the one to show her where it is.”

Eva nodded as Sol set off for Professor Ghoti at her office in the Obsidian Spire.

“I knew that Sol was a good wyvern,” Jona noted. “Those reins on him are the only ones in the entire group of racers.”

“And a total insult. They won’t race together after this season, he will reject his rider and any other dragons will follow suit if she re-applies next year. The only way she would fly is if she grew wings and rode herself.” Eva growled irritably. “She has some dragon in her, you can see it in her eyes, but it is all the worst part of dragons.”

Eva and Jona took off and few northwards out over the sapphire blue lake, it was so large, the water was so pure as Jona could see the bottom of the shallows down to two or three dragon lengths deep. It was like looking through crystal.

Eva looked back as they soared and enjoyed the cool mountain air.

“The water tastes as good as it looks, but it is so cold as to give me a headache. There is a bay that is nearly emerald-green, lately we have called it emerald bay. I kind of hope the name sticks.”

‟That is an awesome lake, so high in the mountains, what feeds it?” Jona asked.

‟Snow. If you ever go swimming in it? You will know that right away.” Eva laughed. ‟There is a story of, years ago, a swimmer dragon jumped in after a long, hard winter with an exceptional snowfall. The snow was at the peak of melting and the swimmer jumped in with ruby-red scales and came out with sapphire-blue coloring. I’m not sure if it’s true, but I can believe it.”

Laughing, the rider and ride sailed along the crest of the mountain range until they banked and headed out to the sea, spending time soaring over the rugged coastline. Eva told him of dragon homes and lore.

‟You have dragon-lore this year. I would suggest coming here and do independent studies. I am also a tutor, and I wish help teach you and keep you on the race team.”

‟Thank you. There is so much going on.” Jona said softly.

‟This is just warming up for the year. You have passion to learn, from what I have heard. Four-years of basic schooling then another four years of advanced school. Your scholarship’s earned by your father and mother with the teaching of dragons over the years.”

‟How long has my father been teaching?”

‟Don’t you know?” Eva said. ‟I always knew when my parents were teaching.”

She pondered a moment.

‟But then, the two societies are different with intolerance of a few creating grief for all. Humans tend to less tolerance than Drakes. If any of your kind thinks or looks different, the first thing the others want to do is declare a war on it.” Eva’s body trembled in revulsion. ‟Humans have more followers of death than they do of life.”

Jona sighed and looked down. Thinking of the times that he and his friends would throw rocks at statues or works of art depicting kindly acts just on the word of someone who said it was wrong.

‟Worry not, Jona. Those things that make you feel guilty are those actions of someone who does not know better. You will learn here.” Eva gave him a friendly bump. ‟You will learn that all things exist and create beauty. Even dragons.”

‟It’s your first year.” She glided over the waters of the big lake again, slowly. Jona could see the fish that swam under the surface, glistening like jewels. ‟You will find beauty in the most unexpected of places.”

Jona held on tight as Eva stroked hard into the air and gained altitude.

Beauty in the most unexpected of places. Jona found beauty in the wisdom.

United States Thanksgiving: Please be with family. In or out of US.

Standard

In this time of the season, whether you are in the northern or southern hemisphere. take time sometime this week and give thanks for the family you have. So many lose a loved one, sometimes we don’t tell them– out of anger or oversight, or the most wrong thing.

We take it for granted.

Tell them. Hug them. Enjoy the family. It doesn’t matter if you are a New Zealand, Aussie, Yankee, Canuck, Russian, Chinese, Mongolian and any of the others I am too danged lazy to write out. Take your mom, dad, brother or sister, son or daughter and give thanks that they are in your life.

No borders need stand in the way of that thanks.

Have a good week folks. I am taking a few days away. You all might get ONE chapter, but I won’t promise for the next week.

 

Even the Bradach Ard Ri gets a week off sometimes.

 

 

Dragon Master University Chapter 18. Veil of Vale

Standard

XVIII. The veil of Vale

Jona walked into the courtyard, Professor Vale was once again shifted his shape to a smaller dragon, basking in a shaft of sunlight that glistened off his ruby scales.

“Professor? I would like to ask a few things.” Jona asked, his head full of questions on what he had just seen. How much was history, how much was fiction and how much was truth.

“Yes, Jona, speak your mind.” The Old dragon looked at him with good humor, he liked Jona it pleased  the professor to help or answer any questions.

“Professor Koos was lecturing me on lore and law, gave me a view of some lore.” You were once human and had to change into a dragon to save your wife?”

Vale nodded, “Yes, no one bothers to ask me, but the one time that the historians did, they used the crystal to record what had happened. The lady with gray and red hair that assists me now and again?”

“Yes, professor, she is you wife?” Jona asked.

Professor Vale looked at Jona for a second and continued while clearing his throat, “Well, now we know you have attended “Obvious Recognition 101″ at one time or another, what I was going to say, she has spent many years looking for the single spell I used. Rumor has it that I cannot speak the spell due to magic, but the only magic was that I could not speak any human speech at first and by the time I was able to, the spell I thought I used was incorrect.” Vale sighed, “So now she uses her knowledge of magic to stay young as possible, she ages about one year for every one hundred.”

Jona stopped and thought for a moment. “The story I saw from the crystal showed you and her as a young couple.”

“Indeed,” Vale nodded, “We had not yet started a family, no children. In fact it took me years to learn how to change size, I can do a little shape change now, but I am always dragon.”

Doing the math at first, “The story then is very long ago.” Then adding, “You had children since then?”

Vale nodded “Yes, it was long before the current history, many years have passed. She was only twenty-two summers old and beautiful as a sunrise on a snowy day.” then nodding again, “We had a number of children that have had both qualities of the race of dragon and man. Kolo and Kola are both related to me, although many times removed, twenty-five generations or so.”

“My friend Kolo and her brother?” Jona asked

“Yes, not all dragons lay eggs, depending on the clans or branch of the family tree.” Nodded the Professor.

“Clans?”

“This is my break time,” the professor said, sitting up. “but as you want to learn, let’s go to the master room of the Garnet House. Climb aboard.” Vale said as he swelled in size, a four-winged dragon as he changed size, Jona climbed on his back into the saddle area– that was not fully developed as in the racer dragons, but then, Vale was a much older dragon and racing had not been a sport back then.

At the top of Professor’s aerie. There was stone tables of granite and soapstone of verdigris color, with a full view in all directions, Jona gaped at out the lead glass windows, mountainous peaks from all his view were magnificent.

“Dragons are family oriented, mothers are as protective as any human parent. Old stories of virgin sacrifices were simply overstated and elaborately told stories of rogue drakes that were just like any

other being on this earth with prejudices and hatred to others. Some were equal opportunity hate mongers. Ultimately, the councils of dragons gathered and the first peaceful meetings with humans happened.” Vale opened a very wide scroll as it lay over a wide table of intricately carved soapstone. “The first meetings you see marked here on the time line were with the Pirate High Council, perhaps the most free and dangerous group of humans to empire or govern.”

“Pirates? Robbers of the sea, correct?” Jona asked, he knew the stories of the seagoing raiders. “They come ashore, burn and pillage. I have had teachings of such things.”

Vale nodded, “In the most basic sense, they are barbarians and robbers, those are the ones you hear about that are the most unskilled at the bottom of the pirate food chain. They are not they pirates that were here. The pirates that put on the show are those that live outside of the government’s influence and do not pay taxes to an entity that gives diminishing returns. Instead, they donate funds, goods and services when they wish. This is outside of the control of government– another irksome thing for those that desire power above all. They call these men and women pirates as a result, it is easier to prosecute a ban on trading with the people.”

Vale continued, “These are the people in the early days the dragon councils met. It was the pirates that suggested a school, first for just dragons to learn, but then to bring forward a school for teaching the teachers. This is why you are here. A teacher must understand the relationship and be able to teach past the prejudices of both dragon and human. You will be a Master of dragon knowledge to dragons and humans. You will be a Dragon Master, but I digress, you must know what you ask.”

Jona nodded, lost in the history time line as it was laid out before him.

“Dragons live for a very long time, some say forever but that is not the case, they do age and become elderly, but the length of a dragon’s lifespan has not yet been firmly established. No deaths of natural causes as of yet, that have been recorded.’

Vale corrected himself “All but for one, not long after the first peaceful contact with humans there was a dragon named Koshenkpough, a fire dragon. He befriended a human orphan boy when his mother was a victim of a governments abuse of power. His father was a bookmaker and was never around. The child learned much from the dragon and was unable to ever speak his name properly and he nicknamed the dragon, who liked the name and has since been known as “Puff”. Puff was the first Dragon Master to a human, though they did not have the title at the time.”

Jona nodded, “I saw a column with the name of Puff on it. I wondered why such a strange name for a Dragon. So it was a nickname?”

“History is known for renaming people and dragons,” Vale nodded, “Places and events that did not reflect the real names at the time. Let’s continue. Dragons, and although I am one, I am human inside by thought and feeling, but after living as a dragon for so many years, I have learned a few things.” Vale smiled, “One of which as you know I can change size, but not quite shape or I’d be human in a heartbeat.” Vale chuckled. “It would make sitting by the fireplace with RedNova– that’s my wife’s name– Possible. Or go visit her father.”

“He is still alive?” Jona asked.

“Yeah, he is REALLY old.” Vale winked. “He is studying spells for all this time to break what I cast that day.”

“Wow, there is so much more to the world.” Jona was looking over the scroll and the time line that was drawn upon it.

“More than you know now, even.” Vale nodded. “Dragons have developed close ties with humans over the years. The biggest heartbreak that any of them have is that, although dragons live forever, humans do not. Remember Puff and his human friend, the boy grew up and left to live his human life in time, Puff returned to his cave.  Some say Puff was the boy’s mother who had been transfigured, somehow, like I have been. Others say that Puff changed his name and just disappeared into the crowds and might be among us today. We have never established what happened.”

“So if, say a human and dragon were married, they could raise a family?” Jona asked.

“With the right kind of healer and medicine, yes. It might be odd for both of them as the offspring are usually a blend of traits. The curiosity and inventive nature of the human side, the long life and learning capacity of the dragon, occasionally there are different results, some good, and some — well to say evil might be too harsh, but the outcome has been…” Vale paused, “Unfortunate.”

“What is this notation here about vampires and lycan?” Jona asked while reading small print on a time line.

“That, my young protegé, is for later studies. Just keep in mind, any mix of dragons and the other two is fraught with disaster. Already between lycan and vampire exists a war as the two are diametrically opposed.” Tracing his crimson colored hand down the page, ” Here, lists how clans of dragons exist. Some indicate live births, others the day they have had eggs hatch. No one is to say which is better, but smaller dragons tend to have live births and the laying of clutches of eggs seemingly is on the wane over the years. It seems to make a stronger bond to the parent-child relationship in the dragons.”

“How many clans are there?” Jona asked as he traced his finger over the parchment.

“How many clans are there in humans? No one knows.” Vale chuckled. “It has only the main course of history, this does not detail clans and the branches. That would be like trying to follow a drop of water in an ocean.”

“Why do humans hunt dragons?” Jona asked, “Seems that it would be better if the two races would work together.”

“It is the same way on both sides,” Professor Vale nodded grimly. “A few make it impossible for the many. That is why you are here at the school, to help survival of both.”

Jona tingled with the thought of that. A huge responsibility, but a lot to learn still.

“Thank you Professor, I have a lot to learn.”

“Homework, Jona, without it, your grades will not improve.”

“Yes, sir. And I need to practice with Eva on racing, we are working out in a full team race, four of us are doing the course today.”

“Good luck, Jona, do not fall off.” Vale smiled softly.

Dragon Master University chapter 17. History Crystal

Standard

XVII. History Crystal

Professor Koos watched Jona as he took in the history lesson presented him.

******

“Many years had passed with the green wizard teaching his student, in time, the student moved out to the valley beyond, taking with him, the red-haired daughter of the green wizard. In the honor of his wife, the wizard became the red wizard and the two great wizards taught the ways of how earth lived within each of them.

Crops flourished, and in time people began to move into the vale of the red wizard. The green wizard would come and visit time to time, the houses were at peace.

Barbarians came, camped out on the far shores of the valley. The red wizard told the people to go and greet the new comers. But in a savage display, the barbarians raided houses and farms, burning as they went. The green wizard cast a spell and withdrew, telling the red wizard that the spirit of man is all of destruction and domination, but the younger wizard of the crimson sky refused to hide with his wife’s father. The red-witch and crimson wizard joined forces with the communities of the valley and stood against the destroyers of their lives.

All day and night the war came, the barbarians came from the sea, dressed and ready for war. In the middle of the vale they forced against the defenders and were slowly pushed back. The red witch lead her own side against the hoard, calling on them to fight and telling the attackers to drop their weapons and leave.

Suddenly she had stepped in a hole, a small gopher hole that broke her ankle. The red wizards wife was down in the front of the barbarian hoard as they surged forward towards her, axes glimmered in the light as she lay helpless on the ground. All her protection was busy fighting others of the invaders.

Fifty meters away, the battle line drew closer.

The wicked edges of the knives and axes pushed forward and the red wizard grabbed at his pendant. Looking for someone to volunteer to have a spell cast on them, he could change someone into anything he wished, his pendant, like that of the green wizard was that of a dragon.

Forty meters. The Red-Witch could see their eyes, locked upon her.

Everyone was in combat and pushing the invaders back, the fighters cut him off from his beloved wife. The wizard looked for someone to transform into a dragon! No one was there.

Thirty meters.

She lay screaming on the ground, the skin of her leg tented up by fractured bone that threatened to cut through from the inside, the red-headed warrior-woman was unable to focus enough through the pain to help herself, her people of her brigade were falling back, her life was in danger.

She was alone.

Twenty meters.

Blood lust of the barbarians grew, Uruk the Strong was in battle mode, he knew if he could get to her, the fight would be over. Pushing through, he could see the freckles on her face as he adjusted the grip on his sword.

Fifteen meters.

“Is there NO one that can help?” Bellowed the red wizard, his weapon stunned another berserk warrior charging him. A staff of hardened hawthorn wood with a crystal embedded in it, a gift from the green wizard.

Ten meters.

The tide of the battle was turning against them, the people of the valley would lose their homes, their witch and their lands. The wizard knew that he would lose his heart and his love. He had to protect her no matter what.

One last thought as the words he spoke in a long dead language, changed for use on self instead of another.

Seven meters away.

Uruk was nearly upon her when a shadow blotted the sun out.

It was the largest creature he had ever seen in his life, but he recognized its shape. The blood-red scales, eyes that looked into one’s soul.

“DRAGON!” He screamed like a little child.

And such a dragon, easily three men tall,  landed with such force that the ground shook. The red witch had no idea where it came from, under the shadow of its tail, she drew a dagger.

As the great-lizard like creature gazed at the barbarians, she stuck the dagger in at the base of the dragon’s tail, shoving and twisting at the same time.  This scaled monster was not going to eat her or any of her people with impunity.

The dragon let out a roar that, people who heard it said, the echo bounced back and forth for days.

All fighting, everywhere, halted.

The hundreds of barbarians had a collective loss of bladder control as the ground at their feet became suddenly wet.

The dragon’s roar ended up in a shrill screech that caused the barbarians to drop their weapons as the warriors attack turned into a retreat to the sea that had brought them to the lands of the red witch and wizard.

The valley was safe, the people of the lands cheered the dragon who reached back and pulled out the knife that stuck in his backside with a clawed hand, his only identifying mark was the pendant that he wore around his neck.

Her husband had saved her life, the lives of the villagers and the valley at the cost of his human shape.

What spell did you use, husband?” But the dragon could not speak in human words. Protecting the valley and his wife became the history of the land.

In time the dragon became known as a fair and wise judge, learning to speak human, but never able to tell of the magic spell he used on himself.

The green wizard tried for years, but the many thousands of different spells in different languages, no one could find out what one it was. But the quest continues to this day. The dragon known for its valley that it so well protected has since become known as Vale.

The blood of the villagers that gave their lives, watered by the barbarians in their moment of fear, sprouted trees along the shores of the stream where they fought. The stream changed the flow, but the hedge grows still as a memorial to those that gave all that they had to the protection of the land and the lives of those they loved.”

*******

Jona looked as the crystal faded back to its normal color and then the thought struck him.

“Professor Vale?”

“Indeed” Koos said. “This all has occurred long before there were dragon schools, but Vale and a few others have come together and have promoted safety for both human and dragon. Indeed one country has even developed a fighting style of dragons, used by dragons and mankind alike. Adapted of course for the different needs and body styles.”

Jona sat there with his mouth open as if going to say something but froze in the middle of the word.

“Lore and law, that is what you need to know in all forms. Lore — that is the story you just saw, law is what is handed down from the lore and the wrongs within it. Does it touch you? Yes, through Professor Vale.” Koos lectured him.

Jona nodded, “Yes, I see, Professor, thank you. I will get the past due homework in. Kolo has helped me, she is very good tutor, she is also the sister to one of my roommates.”  Jona stood up and thanked Professor Koos. Gathering his books, he returned to the dorms to retrieve his assignments.

Watching Jona walk out of the classroom, Professor Koos would only hope that he had the spark started in the soul of the boy, for if he did not continue to improve, they would have to pull him off of the racer team.

Koos knew if he could push the young man, get him to realize the potential in his soul, get his heart and spirit in the same spot, one day, dragons or humans would never have to worry about trauma or illness.

“I must speak to Kolo…” His thoughts trailed off, shaking his head, the boy was old enough to make his own path, but occasionally, Professor Koos knew, even the wisest needs a friendly slap to the back of the head to get them ot pay attention.

He walked to his chambers that looked out over the sapphire blue lake and sent word to Kolo to come see him.

Dragon Master University Chapter 9. Tour of the University

Standard

IX. Tour of the University

Jona’s mother gave him the lecture about behaving around pretty girls, especially around those that he had no idea what they really were.
“She is a dragon and probably older than all of us put together.” Aed laughed, “Still, she was pretty. I remember her when I first came. She went steady with the champion racer at the time. Most of us were in love with her.”
“Most of you boys,” Dearbhail interrupted, “were in love with her, she has no affect on females.”
Aed whispered to Jona when his mother stopped to talk to a professor and ask directions to the dorms and library.
“The girls are also affected, mostly as jealousy. Kolo is one of the most beautiful of her species, but they are all pretty. I dated one of her sisters, Soisal. We had a good time until I met your mother, then it was all history then.” Aed chuckled. “I loved your mum from the day I met her.”
“This way” She led her family to the dormitory area. Along the way, the red dragon Jona had seen before was basking in a shaft of sunlight, his size was smaller than Jona remembered, but they were in shadows and Jona had looked around.
“Professor.” Dearbhail said gently, “I would like you to meet Jona, my son. You remember Aed, my husband?”
The dragon opened an eye. Where many of the eyes of dragons were cat-like with slits, or like an owl’s that where wide and bright, taking in everything. This dragon had eyes like a human, deep blue, with the look of someone who has had seen and taught much, with a touch of sadness in his eyes.
But those sad eyes crinkled into a smile– as much as a dragon can smile.
“Why yes!” His voice sounded strangely like a cross between a human and a thunder-clap echoing backwards. “I remember you Aed! You had a knack for using hammers to make art out of metal. I still have the chain you made for me as an end of school present. A great treasure of my personal cache.”
Jona cringed slightly as the tusked face turned to him.
“You will be attending here then in the next cycle? You will like it, there is the renew festival in the autumn, where all the spirits of the year come to greet us. It becomes a trick or treat week of fun and spooks.” Winking at Jona as if it were a secret.
“We make it all month though. Always fun. We also have visiting wizards and witches now and again during that time.”
“I would like to attend here. My dad says you were once human?” Jona reached out and touched the nose dragon lightly.
“Yes, but one must recite the words and said exactly and with passion. I cannot repeat them as the same magic that made me as I am does not allow a dragon to speak such words of reversal. How I came to be like this was to save the most precious treasure I have ever had in my possession or held in my hands.” With a slow nod, the dragon finished his thought. “That treasure was, is and remains my best treasure, my wife. I will see you in class, Young Jona, you will be how dragons think and feel. And you can check with my scales anytime.”
Looking at Aed and Dearbhail, the big dragon took a deep breath. An intense look filled the eyes of the red-dragon.
“His touch is that of a healer, I have seen into his mind’s eye. Aed, Dearbhail, he has the soul of a teacher and a smiter, but most– he is a healer if we can get him past his play.”
“And do not stare so much at Kolo, she might think you like her.” The red dragon chuckled. The sound was if someone had struck a large drum. Then the old wizard dragon closed his eyes and sighed as the the pleasant feeling of the sun shining on his body and warming his scales.
They got a ride on a tram that rode on wheels of wrought iron, pulled by a young dragon that wore a sign on the side of one of his horns. It was in a language that Jona could not read.
“What does that say?” he asked his mother.
“Public service for failing class. All donations to this tram go to the university’s charity for delinquent dragons.” His mother read. “Not much has changed since we attended here. I wonder if they still make humans do the same thing?”
Aed shook his head and shrugged.
“I would’nt be surprised, I spent more than one school week pulling people haulers for not doing my work on time or getting caught in a bad situation. I always got dragons that wanted rides, too.”
“I never had to do that.” Dearbhail laughed lightly as she put her arms around her husband and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you for that, too. I would have hated to have pulled a wheeled cab for my friends when they were going out and I was doing penance.”
Jona looked at his mom “You were going to be punished?”
“No” Aed said, “I would not let that happen, so I took the blame.”
“I had to marry your father after that, he was such my hero, very gallant.” She blushed slightly and kissed Aed again, no longer the finger waving, loud voiced matriarch that shook the earth with her stomps, but looked more like a caught school girl.
“I hung all the boy’s underwear between the buildings. We raided their rooms when they were in the showers.”
“You took the blame for that?” Jona looked at his father incredulously.
“Got me the nickname of ‘Odd Aed’ for awhile. But it was worth it, they figured it out in time, but the debt had been paid.”
His small dragon woke and started crawling around the inside of his tunic and Jona wiggled around then complained loudly that the small creature just pulled out what little chest hair he had. Finally getting free, the small creature flew around in circles over his head before landing on the edge of the tram and watched the world go by.
“This happens often?” Jona asked
“Only with chosen ones. I was not chosen,” his father said. “Your grandfather had a run in with a dragon and a Dragon Master came to arbitrate, the result was the dragon apologized with the agreement I came here to study. One of the best agreements we ever did as a clan.”
Jona looked at his mum “What about you?” with a quirked look.
“I was chosen, I had a small dragon follow me home, my parents were always trying to kill it until a Dragon Master came and spoke with them. You have no idea how much of a dragon hater your Grandfather was. He resented it, your grandma— she secretly liked the idea I could save things that lived in and over the earth. But your grandpa, if he had the chance, he would hunt dragons to the ends of the earth without a thought.”
“Is that why we lived so far away from Grandpa and grandma?” Jona asked
“Yes, partly due to that, but also because he did not like your father much. Because I had met him here, your grandpa did not want to even talk to him.” His mother shook her head sadly. “But what he did not know was that your Grandma is also a Dragon Master. She has never told him.”
Once again, his life shook. Schools end, he was free and knew it all, now he found that all he learned in school— was how to learn.
The tram rumbled on, the farther they went, the larger the school looked. “Everything is school here?” he asked while looking out.
“Yes, last count I remember that they had almost forty- thousand students of all kinds. A large city. They will all live here, away from dragon hunters, kings that look to have a prize on the castle or a name as King Dragon Killer or some stupid thing.” Aed said unhappily. “The best part, however is that the dragon council pays for it all. Humans only get in if chosen, arbitrated or otherwise selected carefully. All dragons come here no matter what.”
“All dragons? Do they all live here?” Jona asked as they stopped in front of a very tall spire.
“OUT!” The dragon called in front, his voice was very small for his size, until Jona realized it was a girl dragon, and that he had a lot to learn of how to tell gender from male and female dragons. Except for Kolo, she still danced in his recent memory with the swish of the tail and move of her legs.
A slap on the back of his head again as his mother brought him back to the here and now.
“Jona, you need to look around. There are different dorms. Many are houses that have a brotherhood of dragon and masters. The girls have a sorority but can and do also belong to the fraternity of Dragon Masters. That is where the tattoo’s come from. Only those that achieve that status can have the never ending knot of dragons on their arms.” She reminded him.
A small dragon of a pale blue— white hue walked up to him. “I am Ramases, I will guide you around the dormitory, this is the house of the Frost Dragons, you may find that it is a bit cold in some area’s. But we study hard to keep warm. Do you like to ski?”
“Um, no.” Jona said as they mounted gilt stairs up to the upper floors. The slim dragon bounded on two legs while giving occasional flaps.
“I’m in my second year here, they have moved me into the guide status because my grades are so high. I already speak most human languages.” Ramases laughed as he stepped up the stairs.
Jona looked at the guide as the three Samhain’s followed, “Do all dragons come in different sizes or will he grow to be like some of the big ones that are flying outside?”
Aed shook his head “Most dragons are of adult size in one or two years. By the time they get here, they are done growing, after that, they just age. Like Kolo, she will never get any bigger– even though she looks like she might have gained a little weight.”
Dearbhail shook her head, “She has matured, the vamp.” Jona’s mother shook her head. ‟Dragon girls never seem to get dumpy. Look at Professor Olly. She looks as if she was still a bride when she got married. That was when I was a student here!” Jona’s mother sighed, “and she has four children!”
Aed leaned over, “That’s because you don’t have scale-armored boobs like they do.” And tried to kiss Dearbhail while Jona complained.
“Stop it dad! That’s just … ugh.” Jona walked further ahead rolling his eyes while Ramases laughed quietly.
The young dragon and the human boy began to talk as the parents laughed behind them at Jona’s discomfort.
“Parents.” Jona rolled his eyes.
“Yeah, I have troubles with mine, too. My dad is a desert dragon, mom is from the far north. They are always wrapping tails around each other— it’s gross. I have ten brothers and sisters, I’m the youngest.” Ramases said, “The smartest, too. I can’t get any bigger, I’m kind of the runt of the nest.”
“That must have been hard.” Jona said, “I have a friend that has a few bigger brothers. One brother captured a lúchorpáin and made it give them a bottle of youth. One drop would make you one year younger. “
“Oh very nice, they would have gotten rich off that!” Ramases smiled.
“Not really, they gave Boru ten drops and he was only nine! They made him minus one!”
Ramases laughed, “Pour kid!”
“He had to repeat basic school until the potion wore off the next spring.” Jona added, “I’m an only kid. I just have sprite here that is my dragon I guess.”
“Ooh, he is not yours— you are his, he chose you.” Ramases corrected him. “He looks to be an orphan, must have just hatched very close to you.”
Ramases snorted something, then growled. Sprite just looked at him a few times, then Ramases puckered up and whistled low with some clicking, the little dragon clicked back.
“Said he has spent the last two weeks alone, all the other eggs were smashed, no sign of mother. You are his mother now.”
“Here we are. These are sample rooms, no one lives in these, but it gives you an idea on what you might have available.” Opening the door, Ramases stepped back and let Jona step in. His parents just looked in.
“Do you not want to see the rooms?” Ramases asked Aed.
“I have lived in these rooms with the Fire Dragon fraternity. They are much the same.”
“OH! You are alumnus! Is Jona second or third generation or more?”
“Jona is actually fifth generation candidate, but I have no doubts he will make a fine teacher and, maybe a healer.” Dearbhail said.
“My father was no Dragon Master, but I think my grandfather was. But my father and grandfather did not speak much to each other.” Aed said.
Walls of polished obsidian stone made up the walls of the room, Jona had never seen the like of such a grand room.
“I get a room like this?” Jona gaped.
“Not alone, you would share this size of room with five others.” Ramases nodded.
‟Five? I don’t get to be alone?”
‟No first years do.” Aed said. ‟That is tradition.”
‟I’m going to hate the first year.”
‟You,” His mother pinned him with a deadly look that Jona knew well. ‟Young man, will learn. Study or I will come and teach you in each and every class.”
If Jona thought it was cold when he walked into the dorms, the chill that came from his mother could have cracked ice.

Dragon Master University Chapter 6. Cold

Standard

VI. COLD

Higher they flew, the dragon giving slow, steady beats, the winds generated did not seem as severe as when they were first lifting off. Into the clouds they flew, even birds fell behind as the tail of the dragon slowly began to clear of the stowaway passengers that sat on the dragon’s tail.

“Birds sit on dragons all the time?” Jona asked, finally having enough wits about him to ask.

“Often they do, birds help clean in between the scales and folds of the wings. The dragon in turn keeps predators at bay. Few things hunt dragons.” his mother said softly.

“Uh, ‘few things’? What hunts dragons?” Jona asked, then thought “Besides men.”

Aed turned and looked out the window, the shutter was held back with a gold hook. “There are things far darker and more dangerous than a dragon, even the most short-tempered and wild of dragons have things to fear, you will learn these things of the world at the school. You will do well.” Turning back, Aed was back to his smiling and proud self as they flew on in the wicker coach of the gathering light of the day.

Breaking out of the low clouds, into the bright sunlight, Jona unbuttoned his overcoat in the warmth. “Why do I have to wear this?”

“You’re warm now, but just wait.” Aed said as he motioned ahead of them to a dark line of clouds that towered high into the air. “That for instance!”

Jona looked at the clouds and down to the ground, they were already so far up that not even villages were visible and the edge of the world seemed curved.

“Higher we go!” his mother smiled, “Now it gets cold, you will want to keep your hat on, there are ear flaps on the inside– and button up your coat for your health! Have I not taught you anything?”

Jona chuckled, he had been in the cold back home, once even the lake nearby had frozen almost completely over. He knew what cold was, they had gone swimming in that icy lake that year.

As soon as he finished that thought, he noticed his breath was coming out in fog puffs and his ears popped, looked as though his dad was smoking like the old man who lived down the road when he sat on his stump with a pipe. Jona pulled his hat down over his head, the ear flaps, lined with fur that was far warmer than he would have believed.

As his ears warmed, he realized that he had a slight headache from the cold wind pressing in on his face.

Jona looked around, both of his parents had buttoned up tight, with the collars turned up, all he could see of their faces were the eyes showing through slits in the leather and fur, their eyes glittering as they had more fun than Jona had thought possible in an over-sized wicker basket, that was hanging from the claws of a creature that until just last night he thought was only in stories.

Something cold hit Jona right in the nose, then another, as they skirted along the edge of the high cloud, the sky was full of this white soft stuff.

“Snow.” Aed laughed. “There will be more of it before we land.” His words were cut off by a clap of thunder that made Jona’s heart stop for a moment. The dragon snorted with a sonorous voice, that his dad nodded to and answered in the same snoring sound and closed the roof of the basket.

“She said that she is going to go back to the north a little bit, the lightning is too dangerous for us. It is no danger to the dragon, but us? We would be charred to bones in a moment.”

The glittering tiger striped dragon banked to the left and got away from the thunder cloud, finding clear air as they moved into slightly warmer air and away from the storm line.

“If she understands human talk, can she speak in human?” Jona asked his mother, moving close. For in the first time in years, Jona felt very small and needed to hold his ma’s hand. His mother pulled him close, putting her arms around her only child.

“YES.” the voice was as deep as the clap of thunder, but understandable, even kindly sounding even if it was so loud as to make him jump while in Dearbhail’s arms.

Jona had never been so cold as he was right now, even in the arms of his parents, bundled in layers of clothing- except for the over pants his mom had set in the corner, slowly his eyes closed, for the first time in years, he slept in his mom’s arms, no longer a man out of school of eighteen summers, but a child of his mother.

His dreams were exciting and saturated with colorful dragons and adventure.

Excited, even in his dreams.

Dragon Master University Chapter 3. The Road Home

Standard

III. The Road Home

Rumbling back over the road, the sun was no longer right overhead, quartering behind him, his headache was gone, no longer the flatulent ox made his belly flip-flop in his throat, he had began to look around more. Often the look around at the small birds now that flew from tree to tree and wheeled overhead.

One bird, fell from a tree, landing on the ground and Jona laughed slightly feeling sorry for the bird, but had no time to deal with the plight of the flying critter.

Jona trundled past the young bird, it made an odd noise, but then took wing, and Jona saw its shape appeared like no other bird he had ever seen.

It disappeared into a tree once again, Jona shook his head at the ugly bird, it must have been the power of the distilled spirits still messing with his eyes as he rode on in the wagon, the smell of the peat as he bounced down the path no longer bothering him as much as the time wore on.

Jona was feeling more like a person instead of the underside of the ox-hoof and promised himself no more drinking before finding out what the next day would bring. His ma and pa were known to have had tremendous parties and had a whole next day to rest— but had planned it far in advance.

A touch of wisdom, Jona nodded and heard a familiar sound. Turning his head, he saw that oddly shaped bird again as it flitted by, but Jona lost it in the sun as the erratic flying creature zipped past as he approached the harbor where the black ship docked.

The red hair of the captain was visible as it poked out from under a feathered cap as the blond-headed boy was standing on a pallet of goods, the crews used pulley’s and rope lifted into the ship. Oxen and men pulled on lines as Dana was making sure that the materials where staying on the platform. A netting, used to secure all the crates, while the captain stood below with his arms crossed and shook his head as he spoke to the raven haired woman standing next to him. She had secured the delivery and supervised the lading of the ship.

Looking over his shoulder, freedom of the sea seemed that it was an outstanding life. Positive that the boy, Dana, knew more and saw more than Jona ever would, stuck here on land with no prospects but to tinker on the metals. Even if it was a successful business, suddenly he wanted another life where he could make a change, effect something! Jona wanted a life that was greater than his dad’s.

Flitting by, the tiny bird once again drew Jona’s attention. He was positive it was the same creature, it had a pendulous tail and curious wings, longish neck.

But was fast!

Extremely fast!

Again, Jona lost it in the glare of the sun, it seemed to fly in big circles around the peat loaded wagon.

“Probably the bugs that seem to follow the smell, it’s catching and eating them.” Jona thought to himself. “At least there would be fewer flies when I offload this at the smite shop.”

Suddenly a sound behind him made him turn around. Pulling up on the reins, he stopped the ox which took that moment to rattle out its backside again with gas. Stupid ox, it snorted as much out its backside as it did out the nose.

Turning to look closely at the bird, it had its back to him. It was oddly colored, almost a purple-black color. Abruptly, It turned and looked at him. It had a lizard kind of face. Cat eyes that looked at him curiously.

It was a tiny DRAGON!

Jona stumbled backwards and fell off of the wagon and down into a puddle where the ox had just finished urinating. “UGH!” Jona yelled, the urine smelled worse than the gas that the ox put out. The ox snorted as if it knew and was laughing in the way that only an ox could.

The little dragon gave a squawk and took back to the air, munching on a beetle it found in the peat and sped off behind a bush.

Jona shook his head, distracted now as he scrambled away, once an ox urinated, the other was coming soon and Jona wanted no part of that on him. The urine smell was bad enough as he stood on his feet and shook the moisture off his hands and looked around. The little dragon was gone. No longer visible to the blinking Jona. How was he going to explain what he had seen to his parents?

“Maybe I will just not say a word, they will send me off to talk with the Draoi of the village. Ugh.” Jona commented to himself.

The Draoi were known to cure people from visions and bless things like crops. But it would always take days, often consuming bitter herbs to cure anything from constipation to diarrhea to people with headaches to swelling of feet.

Clambering back into the wagons bench seat, Jona kept an eye out for the little dragon, seeing it every once in a while, it was not bothering the ox or him, precisely, but it was very definitely following him. It was not a chance meeting, the dragon was just a baby, it looked like, but was not near a mother.

“MOTHER!” He gasped in panic. Oh no, if the baby dragon had a mother, Jona was in dire trouble. All they might find of Jona and the ox would be charred bones or might not even find them at all. The boy began to look around rapidly for the telltale signs of impending attack. Birds taking wing or no sounds in the world as the lesser animals would hide from an attacking dragon.

Jona had never seen an attack, only in stories and legends were they told about. His dad, Aed would tell of how the dragons had nearly been driven into extinction by openly living with the humans who would hunt many for the actions of a few.

“Dragons are intelligent” Aed would tell Jona, “They learn and know, they are by and large, peaceful, like a raptor of the sky– they will eat fish or, in the cases of large dragons, oxen or whales of the sea. They had to learn to avoid humans, thus some needed teaching. It was humans that helped teach dragons of how humans lived and how they can see. These men and women became known as Dragon Masters.”

Jona once dreamed of being a Dragon Master, but in time grew up and figured out that all that his dad told him were stories to entertain a child. He had even stopped believing in dragons. But here, a small one was following his very steps as he made his way back home.

Jona took a moment and thought about heading back to the harbor and the black ship for protection, but that would have taken nearly as long as the remaining trip back home. Nowhere was there a sign of a mother dragon to follow the baby or make an attack. People worked in the fields, birds were flitting behind them, eating worms that would be tilled up or to eat the bugs on the grain.

As he entered the home village, he kept an eye out for the small dragon, he had not seen it for nearly an hour, the sun had angled down and the shadows were long. He could hear the hammer blows of his dad’s shop as he drew closer. Curly reddish hair, two bright blue eyes that looked out from a soot smeared face as Aed laughed as Jona made his way to the back of the shop. Always happy to see his son, the smiter directed the apprentices to continue the rough work of the current project.

“Da’, the seller says he owes you two more loads, it would be ready when you are to pick it up.” Jona told his father. “There was no problems, but ma was not in a good mood this morning, she woke me up too early”

The senior Samhain laughed, his hair shook with the good humor of a father with his only son learning how the world really works with the mother in charge.

“Okay, let’s off load the peat over there, Jona, I will send out the apprentices to help you, I have a gold torque to make for someone and I trust no one to do it, I have the idea what they want on the band.” Aed said as he turned away to go back into the shop.

A flit across the sky, Jona decided now was as good of a time as ever.

“Dad, I have seen something you need to know, I think it is serious.” Jona said loudly after his father.

Aed motioned to the junior apprentices who mounted the wagon and began offload bricks of the fuel and walked over to his son and sat down on a mandrel he had made years before. Motioning his son to sit, the elder no longer laughed, taking in his son’s look as a young man with something that was serious in his mind to tell his father.

“I am kind of afraid to tell you, but..” Jona trailed off.

“Spit it out boy, I have known you all your days, you never tell me to wait unless it is serious and important to your heart.” Suddenly a concerned father than a laughing friend.

“Dad, on the way back, I think I saw a dragon– a baby dragon. I’m worried that the stories you told me of the mother dragon that might attack for stealing her baby might come true.” Jona said quietly, he did not want to let the other boys hear him and laugh.

Aed looked at him for a moment, then with wide-eyed concern his father asked. “What did the dragon do?”

Jona, shocked that there was no question of whether he had even seen– just what the actions of the baby did.

“He, well, he ate some bugs as we traveled, took them out of the load of peat.” Jona said slowly.

Aed Samhain began to smile. “Jona, you may not know what this means, but by the good grace of fates, you are going to have a life that you never dreamed of! The dragon chose you to go to a school I once went to.”

Standing up and walking to a bucket of water, his father washed his arms clean of soot and sweat. cleaning the tattoos that entertained him as a boy were still in bright relief.

“These are the marks of a graduate of the school of dragon masters.” Aed told Jona who gaped at his dad’s words.

His father was a Dragon Master!

A teacher of dragons, a group of storied and legendary people who hid and protected dragons since the dawn of stories. Who had taught the dragons how to hide, how to tell the difference between those that would help and those who would harm or seek to harm any of their kind.

They were the go between’s of the world of dragons and the world of man.

“You?” Jona had trouble getting his thoughts to gather in one statement. “You? Taught? Dragons?”

He shook his head at the thought of his dad as a Dragon Master?

Wow.

Dragon Master University Chapter 2. The Road, The Sun, The Hangover

Standard

Dragon Master University Chapter 2. The Road, The Sun, The Hangover

The rumbling cart wheels on the road did little made the demon in his belly trying to come out worse. After the fourth stop to expel his insides at the base of a bush, Jona swore that his mother did not love him anymore. Her love was only for children, now he was grown-up, he no longer qualified for her love.

The sour taste in his mouth and burning in his throat was only equaled by the throbbing in his head as the ox passed gas noisily one more time that made his stomach heave once more.

At least he did not vomit this time as he rumbled past Finn’s house. His brother-in-drinking games from the night before, swore fealty to each other over pints of ale and some of the uisce beatha from Finn’s parent’s stash. Jona could see Finn was working in the fields in the sun, not far from where the barley would grow for next year’s distilling.

Looking like he had just emptied his own stomach, the pale youth just waved weakly at the passing Jona, his own thoughts mirroring what Jona had also been thinking– Parents were the most evil creatures on earth that had no understanding on what life was like for the young.

As he passed the harbor on the way to the village where he was to pick up the peat, there was a ship tied up to the dock, one he recognized from stories.

Black and white, painted as if it was one of the great predators of the sea, a ship of trade, but also of legend. The ship carried warrior sailors and feared by empire and robbers of the sea equally. On the dock a crimson haired father played with a blond boy of about nine years of age, tossing a ball back and forth. The dad would put a spin on the ball so it would bounce oddly and the boy would laugh so loud that Jona stopped and watched carefully. Once, the ball rolled under the middle of the cart and the boy skidded up to get the ball.

“Hi! Can you move your wagon so I can get the ball! My dad throws strangely sometimes. I’m trying to teach him how to throw a ball.” laughed the blond-headed kid. “He is not getting it! He can captain the ship, but cannot throw a ball for his life!”

“He is your dad?” Jona asked as he waited for another cart to move out of the way.

“Yeah! That is Keegan O’Danu, my dad and Captain.” Dana said. “I am Dana O’Danu.”

“Dana! Hurry up! I’m getting forgetful, how did the ball get over there!” Yelled Captain Keegan from the far side of the dock.

A woman sitting on the edge of a loading dock,horses hitched to a wagon with the wheels that Jona recognized as being forged by his dad, was directing the lading of the wagon. “Lady DaLeo, your Captain wished to have the ingots first? He should supervise this, while we load here.”

DaLeo whose raven hair showed iridescent as a raven’s feather in the daylight, her eyes flashed as she stood up, the storekeeper backed away without so much as a word of the supply officer of the black ship and followed the first set of orders as she had previously told him.

Jona laughed as he rolled the cart forward and Dana retrieved the ball with a bright eyes and laughter, ran back to the game to teach his father how to throw the ball correctly. The laughter of the boy and father echoed down the vale and in Jona’s mind as he entered the building. Remembering how his own dad and he would play now and again, but that was when he was young and his parents loved him.

“Just wait until you turn eighteen, boy. Captain Keegan will not love you anymore.” mumbled Jona as he slipped back into his black mood of a hangover. Still his day had brightened slightly as the look of the lady back there had also made the shopkeeper feel low– and he had not been drinking the night before!

A pothole that rattled his brain in his head painfully brought him back to the focus on his guiding of the ox– who’s backside rattled again with a smell of partly digested grain and fermented cud made Jona gasp as his gorge rose again in the back of his throat. Wishing for all the while to sail with the merchant ship and the freedom of the sea.

She walked around the corner, a girl from his school, now just a page of his personal history with graduation of the senior students, Caoimhe smiled and waved up at him as he rumbled by in the wagon. Waving back, he managed to sit straight and put as much importance in the driving of the equipment as he could and stopped the wagon so he could say a few words with her.

“On my way to get important supplies for my pa’. He is depending on this delivery, wish I could stay and talk but I have to get it back to him by evening.” Jona said with as much importance as he could make it sound.

Caoimhe nodded and laughed, “You always are doing important things for your pa. See you later, Jona? What is your pet’s name?”

Jona shrugged and was out of sight before he could think of what she meant. She had never been to his house and did not know of any dogs that lived there. Jona did have a wolfhound but it had died the year before, only just now got a new puppy of the same breed for his birthday the month before.

His dad Aed was complaining that the new dog was more stupid than that of the ingots of iron, copper, silver and gold that he worked in the forge and anvils.

Jona would have hoped that the patriarch of the family was not so attached to the old dog before the old hound died quietly one night, he’d have accepted the pup more easily perhaps. But it mattered little, the old man was always petting the little dog when no one was looking in his direction, even sneaking the dog a scrap from his own meal at night.

Finally, arriving at the camp of the peat cutter, whose own son was looking as ill as Jona felt from the party the night before. Naomh’s father was far more harsh yelling at the boy to get the peat stacked in the wagon as the smiter’s son sat in the shade.

Offered water by Naomh’s mother, (Naomh who had drunk more than all of them the night before.) Jona took the cool drink with great thanks. Only minutes later he had felt a world better, though his belly kept trying to tie itself in knots, his head no longer hurt and he was not a walking ache. Twigs of white willow floated in the water making the drink more of a weak tea with the slight bitter taste, but it was refreshing and he felt better after he finished his drink.

Finally the wagon, loaded to groaning with blocks of peat was tightly stacked in place. Jona, now feeling like he would live through this day, and Naomh drove several staves into the pile to hold it steady for the trip back. Naoise, the peat seller, shook Jona’s hand, “Your father had paid me in trade for this already, I owe him for some work he has done for me. There are two more wagons of peat due him, let him know that I have it ready when he wishes to have it. Just come and get it.”

Jona nodded, thankful he did not have to count or sign anything, most of the merchants his father dealt with all did a trade in services and items. Sometimes when it was ingots, Aed Samhain would forge something of great beauty, keeping the metal for himself, but giving back the art for that merchant to sell. No money changed hands precisely, but all parties stayed satisfied with the dealings. It was a good business.

Jona could not believe his dad, the old man would often speak of how to teach, trying to teach Jona how to teach dogs to sit, to fetch and do tricks. Jona resented being taught to teach animals, his wish was to smite and create with fire. He could cut the leaves of a shamrock into a small bit of copper better than anyone, never getting the metal to crack or wasting the material. This was his wish to do, but his dad always taught him how to teach and somehow getting peat to lug back and forth was not what seemed, or the path he wanted to take.

Besides, what good was it to teach a puppy-dog how to do dumb tricks?

It was not like teachers ever did anything exciting. 

The Red Witch’s Dragon (A short story about 3,000 words)

Standard

\

The Red Witch’s Dragon

Smoke of the burning ships drifted across the hills.

They had come.

The warriors from the north and east to the verdant land. Of the people, even the Green Wizard had summed up his advice in one word.

Flee.

Even the Green Wizard had told the younger, more volatile Red Wizard of the west to leave the area. They could return to the land after the raiders had left.

The Red Witch and Wizard taught the artisans the ways to perform their own brand of magic on ingots of gold, silver, copper and other metals. As they traded for and wide for the raw materials that they brought back to the village, both the husband and wife of the mountain felt they owed the village the best protection they could do.

“The best protection, my son, is to lead them to safety.”

Safety from the Dubh-Gall. Ferocious warriors that the world had not before seen. They came out of the north in high prow-ships, rowing like madmen. Swift, unstoppable and terrifying. In another age and language they went by another name.

Viking.

****

“Move along! Quickly! The sooner we are through the hills…”

A scream echoed down the line of people. In the distance, the glint of steel shown through the forest.

They were coming.

“RUN! Drop everything that you are not wearing, carry the children and run!”

Oengus, the Red Wizard turned to his wife and they both knew what they had to do.

“Come with me.” The Red Wizard said to the most well armed of the men that did duty as the rear guard.

“Flank guard, come with me!” Assa the Red Witch said loudly. ignoring the irritated look from the Green Wizard as he herded the people through the gap.

Taking a group of adults to the rear, the plan quickly evolved to keep the Dubh-Gall from crossing the stream. They lined up in two rows, forming a giant V to keep the raiders from crossing the water ford and away from the escaping people.

The plan was to force the raiders to think they had broken through, only to cross at the deepest part of the stream where the swift waters flowed into a cataract.

****

Confident in their plan they deployed their under-armed and untrained warriors, painted the ruddy color of blood, they took finely forged weapons meant for trade and selling to princes and kings. This time, the people used the fine weapons to defend children, and those that could not defend themselves.

These were not soldiers, the was the leader, but the Wizard himself was no soldier.

Still, he had read the books of Alexander and Hannibal.

****

The rending of wood and metal upon flesh. The battle of the artisans against those of the raiders was decidedly one-sided.

Battle hardened from their many raids where the people ran like sheep. They were not ready for the she-wolf in red hair in the form of Assa, The Red Witch.

****

Their attack faltered as they surged forward against the raiders, the bright red hair and furious scream of a wild-eyed warrior woman bent on protecting those that have asked for it— fell.

Of all the things to happen to a person with arrows flying both directions, spears thrown and sharp instruments swung like scythes in the field.

Stepping sideways to dodge a swinging ax, she moved in front of a charging horse that killed the murderous berserker with its massive hooves and knocked her down in the process, stepping on her foot as it charged forward.

****

Two-hundred fifty paces from the front of the lines, she was not in the lead and her line began to falter.

Fighting and falling back, the line of home protectors, elders and the crazy aunt that everyone has, stood between the fleeing line of family and the bloodthirsty men from the sea.

In the clearing of bodies, Assa’s head bobbed up and down as she tried to make a splint out of a dropped battle club. Too far away, Oengus the Red saw his wife laying on the ground in harm’s way.

The line had moved away from her as his line was putting pressure on the raiders with archers and running battles.

But Assa was alone. Without a leader, her line began to fall back.

****

One-hundred fifty paces between her and the fighting line of death.

Arrows fell around her, the Wed Ritch without a weapon or tool, dragged herself to a broad shield dropped in the heat of battle and pulled it over her as three arrows hit nearby. Using it thick leather, wood and metal as an umbrella to protect her from the steel rain.

And the viking archers were finding her range.

Pulling the shield over her, broad as two men, an arrow struck the shield at a dangerous angle. This archer was spot on target and she was the bullseye.

Looking about, Oengus sought a volunteer to become a protector of his wife. Try as he might as they pushed towards where Assa was, the raiders were too strong and pushed back.

One-hundred twenty-five paces, the line grew closer to her. The defenders were retreating inexorably back, no one stopped to help her, they were all too busy fighting. Those that fell were on their own.

Such are the costs of war.

Oengus continued to search, but no one could break away, his own line unable to make headway.

****

Her line of defense was enough to keep safe the lives of the fleeing villagers that had moved out ahead of the landing of the high-prowed ships. Little did they realize that the well planned invasion had come in three parts, each raiding party had landed ten miles apart, north to south to cut off the refugees escape route.

One-hundred paces.

The line had to reform as the fighters fell back from a wedge attack the raiders had formed.

The vikings were trying to punch through the lines and nearly did so, but Nial had other plans, half his family had yet to cross the water ford and de was not about to let the line closest to them break and endanger the people he is trying to protect.

Failure was not an option for any of them.

****

Seventy-five paces away from Assa.

Looking about at the melee of furious fighting, Oengus saw his love and reason for living now only steps from capture, hiding under broad shield, even from here, Oengus could see that her left foot was not in the anatomic normal position. It was badly broken by the warhorse stepping on her, the pain would be excruciating. It was no small wonder that she had not cast some spell of hiding or concealment, the agony of her broken foot kept her from focusing.

****

Forty paces.

No one was able to take the time, everyone was defending to their utmost

Assa could see the individual hairs in the beard of the pig-tailed, pig nosed man who carried a sword nearly as long as he stood tall.

Two thin lines of defenders, one defender deep stood between her and death, like mighty trees standing against the storm. Screaming berserkers, by the twos and half-dozens, charged time and again against the smiths, tinkerers, carpenters and farmers, crashing like waves against stone. Steel upon steel and bronze upon leather, the screams of the dying and the momentary victorious sounded along the battle line, it all blended in an awful din.

Oengus knew that they could not keep up the defense, the archers left alive were running low on arrows. Youthful runners sprinted, some never returned, a small few returned bringing arrows in hand and in body before collapsing in death, giving the arrows that had pierced them as they had run. Each man bled to hold his line next to his brother or cousin. None of the villagers would give a willing inch to the biting axes and hissing arrows.

Their own archers gave the raiders something to respect. Time and again, even as their own had fallen to arrows that came in, they outdistanced the Viking archers with their long bows.

Thirty paces. The wounded men stood against the charging invaders of the land, like time and waves on rock, it was wearing them down.

Twenty-five paces.

The line retreated, but at a hideous cost to the men of the east, dozens fell with arrows jutting out of their eyes and stuck in their throats.

Twenty paces.

Oengus was in a panic, he needed a subject, someone who would willingly endure a temporary transformation and be the hero of the day.

No one!

Anyone?

None could turn to even engage the question. Everyone was committed to the battle.

****

Fifteen paces.

He was the wizard of harvest, he could bring a flood and storm. But here in the vale, they were all in the floodplain. He had one spell, ten-thousand spells for the same effect, ten-thousand ways to cast each one and he had to undo what he was about to do. Once done, anyone else would be hard pressed to cast a counterspell on changes he wrought with his words.

****

Ten paces.

Out of time. Oengus knew who would do the heroic deed. But the return would be so much longer than the first transformation.

Sliding his sword into the scabbard and dropping it against a tree. He readied himself for the power to flow and transform.

Oengus, Wizard of the Red Dragon of the Westland was ready.

He imaged in his mind his subject and began chanting the five-keys of spells in a specific pattern.

He awoke the land and called upon its power.

****

Assa the Red Witch of the Setting Sun, hid under the broad viking shield, dropped by a raider when her defenders surged forward out of the narrows where the water flowed, her ankle hurt so bad, she screamed when she moved it. Remaining still was not an option.

“Protect the Red!” The artisians yelled. A gravelly voice of the singularly talented smith in seven villages, he called himself “The Smite”, bellowed that no one would be allowed to take the Red Witch.

“Gather her! Pick her up and take her away!” As his great hammer inverted yet another Norse shield into the unfortunate wielder.

But no one came.

She was alone. In a sea of friends and family, of those she had healed, the only help could be had were those that were fighting to protect her untenable place under the broad disk of bronze and iron.

Using a sprig of a spice she dug from the ground, Assa chewed on it for the narcotic, albeit minimal, effect it had.

She needed greater magic than she had with her, her bag, torn from her body by Ulain and his bronze-armored steed when she was ran over by the thundering hooves that stepped on her ankle.

“HERE! Assa!” It was Ulain’s son with the armored horse holding out his hand whilst holding onto the reigns of the angry warhorse with the other.

They were in a semi-circle of a path, a lane really, two rows of fighters, archers on one side shooting between the ranks of the defenders on the other, into the bodies and heads of the raiders that surged to drive the villagers into the water.

It was the plan all along, to draw the heavily armored invaders into a white water grave in the rapids, but with the falling of their leader, she now needed more protection than any of them.

A loud sound, like that of a gong, sounded loud and the great black horse fell, Ulain was gone, Assa did not know if Ulain died somewhere or unhorsed and was fighting on foot. His son now lay crushed under the horse that had an embossed mark like a hammer on the side of the horse-helmet, struggled.

Assa could feel the horse remained alive, but instead of shifting emotions and feelings of the animal, it was a soft blur, the horse was unconscious.

****

Then Assa spied an object that made her heart leap for hope— Her medicine bag, lost in the early part of the fighting. In it she could heal a broken ankle in moments, give strength to the fighters defending their homes and heal herself.

Now she needed Oengus and he was a thousand paces away and the killers of women and children were…

****

Ten paces.

The villagers would shove and battle, gaining ten steps and be driven back eleven.

If viewed from above, the line moved as a snake, writhing, biting, killing— pain.

Her bag, was fifteen paces behind her, she struggled towards it, putting distance between herself and the inexorable retreat of the line to the river.

An ax banged against the shield and bounced away.

The battle was twelve paces distant. She was getting hit with debris that flew about during battles.

A blast of wind blew her bag towards her hand, almost into her grip, but paused.

Not waiting, she lunged and grabbed the soft leather and pulled it under her makeshift roof.

Focusing as she pulled out a stone, spit on it — which was a challenge as her mouth was dry — she only needed a little moisture to have the powder stick to the stone.

And … A sound that grew louder…

The battle seemed different.

Sounds of the rage of war had changed, becoming screams of fear.

Lifting up the shield that was her savior several times in the last few minutes, she saw what looked like ruby-red tree trunks just to the battle side.

It was…

A dragon!

****

The roar of the furies combined with the sound of a thousand storms were no match for ruby-red dragons voice.

The roar echoed off the distant mountains and rolled back along the battle line.

Although in legend and by fire they bragged about being brave, but on this day, the raiders had a collective loss of bladder control at once… Then ran.

Snarling with fury the great dragon launched itself against the fleeing hoard and continued to roar and snarl as they dropped weapons to run faster. The raiders of the lands did not feel they had to outrun the dragon, just the man next to him.

Sure victory had become a race of retreat to the boats.

In legends down time, the people told and re-told the story that the roars of the dragon echoed in the hills around the vale for three days after the battle.

Those raiders fallen  behind were left by their brothers, the Dubh-Gall that fought and drove the farthest inland were now the most far behind when the running began,  finding themselves abandoned by the hoard of now frightened men who sailed away on the ships they arrived in. The abandoned warriors settled peacefully, never wishing to draw the ire of the red dragon of the west ever again.

In the vale, where the villagers returned, blood that had seeped into the ground from the defenders that would give their lives for the loved one named Assa that taught them all how to live, love and laugh.

In the days that followed, leaders looked for Oengus. After weeks of searching, finally identified him by his medallion of a Red Dragon hanging around his neck. No help could be rendered in by any artesian or even the great Green Wizard of the east.

Oengus had changed himself into the dragon, but unable to speak any human tongue in his condition, no one knew the spell he performed.

Finn of the White Water, where he lived on the river, was able to perform the mathematics to figure out the time needed to change Oengus back to his normal self.

One-hundred million ways to cast the spell, each one taking a half-minute to recite in a rush without mistakes.

Assa would age, pass, then be dead and gone if she had to go to the end and try every spell to get her husband back.

Such was the price of a hero.

He won the respect of every day the villagers lived in peace, but had no part in the celebration, he could never know the hugs of the children that he saved.

For dragons live forever, men and women do not.

Even witches and wizards.

In the decades that followed, if one stopped and listened in the far end of the vale, one could hear the red witch yelling at her husband, calling him names for using a spell that no one could reproduce.

****

Early one fine spring day, about two years after the battle, Granuaile walked to the mountain of the dragon and announced herself.

The Red Witch, always enjoying company, yelled at the husband.

Once they called her Assa, the Red. The Gentle Red Witch.

Now, she called herself Nessa, meaning “Ungentle”, she became Nessa the Red, the Warrior Witch of the Westland.

“Dragon! Show yourself! It is the girl from the village.”

Pointing to the vale, Granuaile told them of the trees that the Green Wizard had planted.

“Come see. A monument to the day you saved us all.” With that she ran off down the path, waving at the Red Witch.

In the lane, near the ford, trees now lined the path that followed where the dragon had stood and walked until the fighters and defenders that held their ground in defense of the Red Witch of the Mountain, was safe.

In the times that followed, the stream silted up and moved, the ford became a meadow, but the trees remained. When they died or fell, there were people of the land to replant the trees, eventually becoming giants, growing over the path with a protective canopy along the section where once stood a dragon that was a man who gave his life as a human to protect the jewel of his heart.

In time the vikings would return, forgetting the Red Dragon that lived in the Westland.

They would not forget for long.

Dark Heart, Pure Soul Chapter 10. Poor loser

Standard

10. Poor loser

The Emperor of Hell was violet with fury, blaming others for their failed efforts that allowed the Other Master and Lord to start humanity. That small effort, that simple change in the time-line that the Other Master had undone the Emperor’s entire plan for the fall of man. If not for the damned rock, the humans could not survived on that mud ball! The battle, instead of destroying civilization, instead assisted the rise of man.

All that damage to the Black Battalion was for nothing  and it was going to take some effort to rebuild the numbers of demons. Raising new demons from the lowly slave caste was a challenge and difficulties always occurred. But one bright point in the catastrophe, one of the warriors had stood up to one of the Others and even outclassed in power and size and he was able to send that one of the Others, this giant angel, back to her Master.

This demon would be raised and given back his ancient name to show his value. All other of the imps and demons would learn that success had great rewards as failure had severe punishments. With a sweeping motion of a great six-fingered hand, all tipped in claws, he commanded the mid-caste demon to come and receive his reward for courage.

Down and away, The Demon sat alone with his back to the rage of the Emperor. He felt the command to come to the seat of power as much as saw it. He stood and turned, slowly with each step from an exhausted warrior, as he walked up the path to the Black Throne, he cringed inwardly, sometimes awards were as cruel as punishments.

A promise was never the way you could take it. Fear was not unknown to even those that received the highest of awards and raised and became his personal warriors.  They were dangerous things, the Dark Lord’s favors, because the Emperor was a trickster and a breaker of promises.

Still, to refuse the Emperor of Hell was, to say the least, unhealthy. So the Demon stood with his chest out and with the look of pride he did not feel, it seemed that all had gone well.

Then, a voice sounded. It was one of the other warriors that had seen his actions with Bronwyn, stood up. As the statement hung in the air he decided to challenge the lessor demon, only to have three others speak out in unison. The air suddenly chilled by a crackle of cold rage behind him.

The Emperor in a hideous fury brought forth the judgment.

Christmas One Night-Stand (NSFW)

Standard

 

 

One Christmas Night-Stand

 

 

 

1.The Party Planner

Rose had prepared for the office Christmas party for months, now only days away, they were a bit short on funds. Taking donations, working with the social committee, the weather was turning cold and Halloween had passed. Much to the chagrin of one of the managers. Longer hair than what the company owner liked, Thaddeus Harrison “Teach” Harte was the owner of the copper hair that hung down to his shoulders was eye-catching no matter where he was.  The Van Dyke facial hair and green eyes made him look like a refugee out of some novel of musketeers or pirates.  His penchant for hats was well-known.  Beret’s, an archer’s cap with a feather in it, a straw hat in summer.  He was known to compete in archery and had the muscular build of an athlete that he was.

His green eyes made women that worked with him think of the naughty things that they whispered to each other during their coffee breaks.

 The only complaint that any of them would talk about, his choice of clothing that was always black. But his work pants were always tailored properly and on jeans day he wore black, tight jeans that every woman enjoyed to watch as he took care of troubleshooting problems with printers and net connections that mysteriously cropped up for the women when he was so dressed. If he knew, he never let on that he was aware of the rules of the game.

Although he did seem to bend over a lot more and closer to desks for no reason when those days had arrived. Much to most of the women’s enjoyment – and some of the men, too.

 Rose always found her eyes following him as she approached him with a printed sign to put on his office window for  donations to the upcoming Christmas party. 

 “Teach, could you donate some money for the company party? Mr. Caleb has donated most of all we need, but we need some small things to decorate with.  Mr. Caleb has paid for an open bar and the party room at the hotel, but nothing else.”

 She noticed today he wore glasses instead of his contacts, behind his glasses his eyes crinkled a little in a smile. 

 “I have just the donation for you. Last week you know I competed in the year-end archery tourney and I came in third. The third-place prize was twenty-five hundred, cash. It is yours.”

 “Oh my.  Teach. I could not…” 

 “Take it. It puts me over some tax issues, so if I give it to  a good cause, I can just deduct it. So I think a donation to our companies Drive For Kid’s Cures, I can do good on both ends.” Teach smiled. “I’ll talk to Mr. Caleb and have him use that money to buy decorations and such for good will of the community.”

 “Thank you!  You will get a special recognition for this.”

“Not necessary,” He chuckled. “just throw a good party.”

“Oh we will! We will!”

 

 

2. The Party

 

Weeks of planning and the day finally arrived only another hour before the half-day ended and the Christmas party started. The ginger musketeer brought in a bushel of mistletoe and was hanging it up everywhere.  When asked where he got so much, he only replied.

 “I climbed few trees.”

 Doubting laughter followed when he described his adventures, until Tyree Hayburt showed photos on his cell phone of Teach climbing trees and harvesting the fresh mistletoe with a pole saw.

 One woman, after she stared at the image for a moment, caused a commotion when she commented that he was up in a tree in just a t-shirt.

 A few laughed at the misunderstanding. The t-shirt he wore was black, matching his pants, giving the impression he wore a black jump-suit. But his arms! 

She commented that his arms made a woman dream what it would feel like to be in an embrace with such arms.

The phone made the rounds with the office women and Tyree did not get his phone back until the battery was screaming for mercy.

But Teach struck a handsome image. Fingerless gloves, standing in a tree with his feathered cap while he trimmed a large growth of mistletoe off an oak tree.

 Many of the workers looked at him now as he stood on a ladder and taped, pinned, stapled the green plant all around the dance floor.

It appeared that he was intent on having kisses exchanged everywhere in the party.

 Rose laughed at Teach’s personal mission and pointed out to him that he still had a large amount left over. 

 “Well, I do need to show care. Each sprig is worth a kiss, right?” Teach smiled conspiratorially. “So, I worry about overdosing the magic if I put up too much. I mean, a single sprig is worth a simple kiss. How much is small a branch worth? A passionate kiss? More? How much would a large branch be worth? It’s tradition, you know. This is why children are born in late August and into September.”

“It’s a good thing I brought some condoms in my purse.” She whispered back. Enjoying his shocked look and a touch of color to his ears as he turned away, laughing with embarrassment.

Rose cackled quietly to herself, catching the beautiful T. H. Harte in a bomb like that. But then, she had already had tipped the bottle in the kitchen with the Irish Coffee’s that MaryJo had made.

The best part of the day so far had been the drinks that Alice poured.  Hot chocolate and peppermint schnapps with a cinnamon stick floating in it. Rose poured some Irish coffee into it and made a killer mocha that was making her feel happy.  Extremely happy.

Looking at the clock.  It was nearly noon, the party was due to start in a few minutes. The smell of lunch was wafting through the office, roast beef and ham, chicken and even a turkey roasted in the company kitchen.

Rose walked off, she had done the job she set to do.  The party was starting and she had an Irish Snuggling Mocha calling her name.

 .

3. To The Victor Go The Spoils

At noon, everyone filed in. It was a short walk to the hotel and those that had drinks and snacks all morning were already feeling the effects of such mid-winter cheer. There was Christmas in the air and no functional work, even the boss, Mr. Caleb, had not accomplished much, except to drink and mix drinks in the kitchen. Even as he lead the group across the hallway, he did not quite stand up straight. But he was still talking clearly, blaming his unsteadiness on his bad knee.

At the head of the tables, Caleb stood and spoke, giving out generous bonuses. A thousand dollars for every year of employment, a few joke gifts and then announced food, finally, was served.

The dance floor was lit and the music boomed, MaryJo walked up behind the office archer and pulled Teach (as she was slurring his nickname a bit) off his stool and out onto the dance floor. As they walked and swayed to the music, MaryJo noticed that “Teach” had an eyepatch on.

“Oh my god! What happened to your eye?” she leaned into him, pressing her barely contained breasts against his taut body while he snaked sinuous arms around her. More to hold her up than to dance with her.

“Nah.  I walk into and out of lighted areas, this little flash dance area would blind me if I was to walk into a dark room for a drink.  There is a show across the way with an stand-up comedian I might want to go see. Starts in an hour. I wouldn’t be dazzled in one eye this way, it’s an old pirate trick.”

“Mmmm…” A voice came in from behind them. “You can plunder my booty anytime, ginger-snap.” Rose had walked up behind the dancers and handed a drink to MaryJo.

MaryJo and He laughed.

“I think I need to go get another drink.  The bartenders here make these drinks too weak.” MaryJo winked and walked off, one over-sexed divorced woman leaving him with another over-sexed divorced woman as the two double-teamed him.

Suddenly feeling like an endangered species, Teach Harte smiled and headed back to sit down at a a table where an electronic game of greedy-greedy could be played until the music ended.

Smiling as Rose sat with him, the waitress walked over and asked what they would like.

Ron Abuelo Centuria, neat please.  The bottle, too.”

“Sir, you do know that the bar is open, but it only covers well drinks.”

Slipping the barely dressed cocktail waitress two bills of paper money with Benjamin Franklin on the front, whispering to her “Keep the change.”  She smiled widely and sashayed away to the bar.

Together they sat and talked.  Starting with the office work before he leaned over to Rose and whispered to her ear.

“I am making a rule, no more shop-talk.”

Rose laughed softly and nodded.  Looking down at the table that they sat at, a computer controlled dice game.  Gaming levels  listed on the display of:

[  ] G

[  ] PG

[  ] R

With one level listed as an extra cost to play:

[  ] X

“Which level would you like to play?”  He asked as he slid his card through the reader, tapping in his identification number.

Rose looked over the game, not knowing how to play, she was not about to miss out on anything.

“Let’s go with X.”  She said, here brown eyes twinkling in the strobe of the dance light.

Another voice behind them, “Can anyone sit here?”  It was Robert Hershey with his very pretty wife, who wearing a naughty lady Santa outfit.  Not quite slutty, but it danced along the edges of the term. When asked about it, Barbara would say “This is Sexy Elf, Slutty Elf did not come with a vest, only two bells to hang on each side.”

The game started with number of players and their names.  The greedy-greedy seemed draw people like a magnet, a new style of game that had started in an online virtual world,  had spread to real world with small changes.  In this case, the numbers of the dice indicated the clothing that the players would  bet.  On the menu it showed a listing of “Slow”, “Medium”, “Fast” and “Waste No Time!”.

The game started and the holographic dice spun and indicated the score.  In two rounds, the scores were showing that Robert was ahead and his wife was in a very distant last place.

Another roll and it was Teach’s turn, and it indicated to spin who the paired couple would be.   The menu  selected had no gender specifications.  A spin and showed that Barbara had to give a deep kiss to MaryJo.

A gasp! Would they do it, the group got quiet for a moment, then Barbara stood up and stepped over to MaryJo and straddled her lap.  The players were given a show of a serious, passionate kiss to MaryJo who slowly slid her hands over Barbara’s body, lightly playing with her breasts as the kiss drew on longer than a minute.

Buy the time that Barbara stood up, her nipples were visibly erect and she walked unsteadily to sit back next to her husband.   Then it was Robert’s turn.  His challenge was unhook Rose’s bra with one hand and leave the garment in place.  Rose, blushing at this, stood and held Robert in an embrace that was sensual while she found his lips with hers.  The kiss was slow and sensual, but for Robert it was an effort in an abject failure as he could never get the bra unhooked.

As the loser of the game-driven command, Robert had to remove his shirt. Slightly overweight, it was still obvious why Barbara found him attractive.  He even had a tattoo of her name on his shoulder with the names of their children.

Turns became more sexy as others would join around them at other tables as they played on.

As the game wore on, Barbara advanced higher and Robert lost ground, no longer the leader he had lost major points on the game.  Robert lost another roll and was required to perform an oral sex-act on Rose who sold the act to Barbara for a good price.

The holographic representations of the characters were in various states of dress. Teach’s avatar was down to its digital underwear, when he spun one more time.  The arrow landed on Rose and then the dice was between them.

Teach rolled a sixteen of a thirty possible on the dice.

Rose rolled twenty-one of thirty.  “Rose wins!”

Then the selection menu came up.

“Questions or Actions”

Rose selected “Action”.

A roll of the dice again and Teach rolled  again.  Four twos, eight points out of thirty.

Teach was in trouble.  His last roll of a six did not help him greatly. Fourteen points of thirty possible.

Rose would only have to play a conservative roll.

Her first roll she hit three fives that she could keep. Leaving two dice left to roll.

Already it they wondered what she would be offered by the machine and what would be selected.

“A slow strip dance on the table by your partner.”

“A night in heaven.”

“U-turn. Select another partner.”

“Slow Naked Kiss.”

The group’s women laughed.  The sound of clinking came from across the table.  Teach was pouring his glass full.  The pressure was getting to him.

Rose selected “Night in Heaven.” and hit “roll”.

“12 hours with your partner who must do everything you request of them without question.”

“Oh my gosh,” Teach nearly shot rum out his nose. “for twelve hours?”

“No sleeping!”  The laughing voice came from across the table was that of MaryJo as she kissed   Robert with great passion.

Sending a text message to Teach, Rose  messaged, “I think MaryJo, Robert and his wife are working on a 3-way.”

Reading the phone, Teach nodded smiling. Messaging her back. “Elf power.”

Rose laughed.

A roll, Teach just could not get any love from the machine. The score eliminated him from the game and Teach sat back with his arms crossed.  A common position that he would stand in. Rarely smiling at work, this evening at the party, with a half-bottle of two-hundred dollar rum in him, he was quite jolly.

Suddenly, the game was over!  Robert failed his roll and suffered the eliminatation leaving only MaryJo and Barbara in her sexy elf outfit when Barbara’s roll was a perfect thirty.

In a single roll at the end of the game, Barbara selected from the menu.

“Action”

MaryJo had to go spend a night in heaven.

Getting up, the group laughed at the naked holographic avatars on the table with the naked version of Barbara jumping up and down in her place on the game board.

Teach walked past the registration desk and looked out the window and motioned Rose over.  Several other Christmas parties were going on all over the building and many were leaving.

The street, lined with red and blue lights of cars driven by law enforcement pulled drivers over by the two’s and fours.

“Three hundred rooms per floor, fifteen floors, and people want to drink and drive home?  That is bad thinking.” He said and Rose nodded.  “I’m staying here tonight.  How about you?”

“Well, I have no one at home waiting for me.  I have an hours drive.  So I am staying, too.  With you I think.”  She grabbed him by his eyepatch and pulled him into a long kiss.  His hands found what Robert’s could not during the game.  She had on a front-hook bra and released it simply by sliding his hand over her breasts.

“Good and well.” He whispered and walked to the registration desk.

4. A Night In Heaven

They stepped off the elevator and out into the hallway.   Robert was visible as he fumbled with the key card.  Barbara and MaryJo were in a very sexy and sensual clinch.  The way that the vest moved on Barbara’s body, it was obvious that it was a very busy night in the hotel and in that room, busy was the night’s entertainment.  Teach and Rose walked the opposite way and down to a suite that the company had reserved for employees.

“Mr. Caleb was very pleased with business this year.  Everyone gets a suite at a steep discount, but you have to ask for it.”

Taking Rose by the hand and lead her to the bedroom.  Wobbling slightly from his rum and she with her wine, they slipped into the bedroom where he sat on the edge of the bed. Standing close to him, his hands gently slid up the inside of her blouse, caressing her hardening nipples. They spoke no words  for there were none needed.   This was the plan ever since she had joked with him hours before.   She was nearly sure they would have had a third, but she did not press the thought.

She wanted him all to herself tonight. Her blouse slowly removed, as his lips found her nipples.  A gentle sucking over the razor sharpness of his incisors, he sucked air slowly over the moist flesh as it puckered hard enough to scratch glass. 

Gasps of pain/pleasure escaped her lips.

“Sorry.  Did that hurt?”  He looked up with a twinkle in his eye.  He was not sorry.  But her own  voice betrayed her.

“Oh god no… that hurt, but it is a good hurt.  Oh god that was good… please…more.” She pulled him back to her breasts again.

Looking down and watched him tease and bite her nipples.  The thought struck her and reaching down she pulled on his shirt, forgoing the buttons, she pulled the cloth up and over his head. It was a fine shirt, it felt like silk as it slide over his broad shoulders easily and revealed what she had gossiped about in the kitchen with MaryJo.

She slid her hands over his back as he traced his tongue over the valley between her breasts and down to her belly button. Light kisses on that so-sensitive skin just below the dimple of her navel while he unbuttoned her skirt and slid it down over her hips.

Slowly, piece by piece, they shed their clothes until he whispered to her ear.

“Let’s move up to the pillows.”  Softly he had whispered, but the glint in his eye was as loud as thunder.

Rose crawled backwards  on hands and feet. Her heart beating in her throat, she could feel the wine swishing around in her.  He had consumed more than half the rum, she had put down two bottles of a chardonnay, two snugglers and one Irish coffee… at least two snuggler drinks, she was trying to think, when his teeth raked the inside of her left calf. His hands sliding up her bare thighs.  In a hysterical thought she was thankful she had just gotten waxed the day before, the laughter escaped her lips and Teach smiled at the sound.

His mouth touched the inside of her left thigh, then the right as his slow bites alternated sides..  Sucking against her skin on each side, she was almost laughing with the thought of bite marks on her skin there and if they might be visible when …or if..she wore a skirt, pants was  the order of clothing for the near future.  But each bite made her ache to have him inside her.

Tracing fingertips over the bare labia that was slowly opening to him. The tip of his tongue slowly trailed over the flesh of her pubic mound.  A slow puff of breath, the damp trail of kisses he left chilled her skin with a thrill that had not been done to her before.

Rose gasped as she ran her hands through his hair.  His hands found and slipped up under each ass-cheek and lifted her to his mouth. His teeth finding her swollen and damp clitoris.  The sharp teeth holding that bit of flesh between them as he pressed against the pubic bone.

And then… Then he hummed! The sound entering her body through flesh and bone. Going through the scales, he hummed a tune until he hit that one tone, it seemed to start in her clit, through her core and into her mind.  The very heart of her body seemed to spasm in one mind numbing orgasm as her pelvis bucked against his face.

Rose gasped in the skin tingling post-orgasm as he kissed his way up her body.  Sucking gently on her left nipple, then on her right nipple he rolled the flesh between his teeth while sucking air over the tender flesh.

Sliding up her body, his erection pressed against her, kissing her lips, sharing the taste of her sex on his lips with her.  His hardest part found her softest as he entered her gently and slowly, arching his back as he pressed in.  His erection entering her labia, he pulled back after an inch.  The large diameter of the cock forcing open her love-hole.

“We should.  Oh god.  Put on… Mmm, that’s nice.  A . Oh! A Con… Oh my god!  Con..OH! Yes! Rubber! You are going to get me pregnant, I don’t want to be pregnant… We need… Oh! Forget it!”  She moaned into his mouth as they kissed. “Oh.  God. Please. Fuck me!”

Pulling her legs up, locking her feet behind his back as her fingernails raked his back, leaving red scratch marks along the length of his back as she sucked on his tongue.

Pushing deeply into her, the pain of his entering her was a burning pain.  This intensified her driving lust, forgetting all outside worries. She thrust her hips up to meet his push.  Intensity of his kisses, flavored with her sex was still infused in the kisses.

Rose pulled his head tightly to her for the kisses that were so delicious while he pushed the whole of his organ deep into her, pressing against the back wall of her vagina, he touched the deepest part of her. Her lover’s balls bounced off her ass as he pressed her into the mattress of the bed.

Teach broke the kiss for a moment, gasping.

“I just need to say something.”

“What?” She asked softly, with had a crooked smile.

“Oh god…I’m cuming!” He moaned as his body went into spasms. His seed filling her with each twitch that she could feel.

Rose held him to her, kissing the side of his face as he gasped for breath. Lightly stroking his body.

Deep inside him, he began to laugh and twitch.

“That tickles.  Please… Oh please stop!” He said laughing.

They lay in each other’s arms for several minutes, kissing.  His softened member slipping out of her as they continued to explore with hands and lips.   Of touching and traces of tongue and fingertip.  Raking sensitive flesh and enjoying the laughter of the post-coital Celt in her arms. Rose smiled widely at his body’s reaction to her touch.

They lay next to each other, him lightly caressing her breasts.  Kissing the puckered flesh of her nipples and the soft curve of her neck. She touching his hips and sliding her hands down, taking his flaccid organ in her hands, the slightly sticky fluid she found with her hands, brought up to put on his lips and then kissed those beautiful lips clean.

A few minutes passed and another erection began to grow, much to her enjoyment.

He chuckled then gasped as Rose traced her fingers over the swollen length of flesh under the thin material. Seeing his cock for the first time, the tumescent organ was not very great in length, she could use both hands to cover it, but it the diameter was massive, her fingers could not close around the organ as she explored his naked sex.

He made little sound as she teased his hard shaft with her fingernails and gently traced the tip of her tongue around the barb of the glans. Pleased with the sound of his soft moaning, her mouth closed over the head of the shaft and she began to stroke in counterpoint to the motion as she performed a fun tease of oral pleasuring to his body.  His body bucked which made her laugh softly.

“Did that hurt?” She smiled.

“Oh god! N- no.”  Teach gasped with a touch of giggle.  She could feel his pulse in his massive shaft as she slid her mouth slowly down it while pulling up with her hand.

Rose put her hand on his naked belly to hold him still, a sudden upward thrust would choke her as she held him in her mouth.  He laughed as she raked her fingernails along the inside of his thighs. Rose explored the glory of his body as she slid off her panties and sat astride him, pressing the head of the shaft against her clitoris and began to ride up and down.  Not allowing him any entry no matter how he was begging her.

“Oh damn… Please… “  His whispers were of near agony as she teased his scrotum as she rubbed her body up and down over the corona around the glans of, what Rose decided was, a beautiful penis as she used the man-probe as her personal sex toy.

Each stroke as he played with her thighs and cheeks of her bottom, served to drive the passion in her soul higher and with more intensity until the orgasm that she strove for. Holding his erection against her clitoris, she reached a point that Rose was unable to control her movements.

“So close…” She moaned but had to put her hands on his knees for balance.  His erection pushing against her belly.

“Turn around.” he whispered as his hand slide under her backside and traced over her labia.  Teasing her further for the missed orgasm, the entry of her body was slippery with her personal moisture.

Smiling, she turned around and stretched her body full length along his, enjoying the sensation of his erection pinned between them.

“Are you enjoying yourself? “ She whispered as she reached down between them and stroked his hard shaft.

“Very much, we have much more to go.  We are not finished yet, lady.”  he laughed softly as she sat back up astride him.

She slowly stroked his erection with both hands.  A little scary that the thickness was so that she could not close her hands fully around it.

“You want more?” She bounced lightly on his pelvis, her breasts swaying hypnotically as teased  her nipples.

“Mmm… Come here, let me kiss those beautiful nips.”  Teach laughed as she complied.  “You have beautiful breasts.”

Rose gasped as he took her into his mouth.  “Thank you…”

Feeling him lift his hips up, she lowered hers down to his, guiding the head of the twitching muscle to the wet labia.  Sliding slowly down over the head, she felt the organ enter her and stretch her flesh as he entered her.

A little at first, it was too tight to fit without the sensation of burning.  The skin surrounding her orifice complained at his intrusion into her body.

“Oh my god you are so big.  I still don’t know how I could fit you.”  Rose gasped as she rode up and down.  Each time she slid him in, it was a little deeper. Almost half-way down the shaft she was certain he could not get any more inside her in this position.

Laughing softly. “It will fit, it was there once. You are in control.”  Then pulling her for a deep kiss, he thrust upwards as she slid down.  Pulling her ass close to his pelvis, the thick penis slide its full length into her, pressing against the back wall of her chamber.  The pressure against her womb with the head of the  shaft.

“Oh…. god.” She moaned into his face, sliding her tongue into his mouth while the walls echoed with the soft sounds of  their bodies slapping together as she rode him until he began to tremble.

“Shh…” Rose stopped moving for a moment..  “Not yet.  Hold it.  Hold.  You don’t get to cum before I do.”

“Oh god.  I can’t.”

Rose sat back, holding him inside her.   The sensation of the head of his organ bumping against her cervix excited her as she rode slowly. She enjoyed watching him, watching her.

Teach put his hands on the mound just above her clit, stroking the little cum-button with his thumbs in a small circular motion.

“Oh.” The shock of his thumbs pushing the hood back over her bit of flesh was as an electric shock in her heart when his hands changed positions, holding her by her hips.  He thrust upwards in her  and held still.  Keeping her still as she tried to keep riding his shaft.

His body bent in an inverted “U” for a moment.  Rose did not realize the moment had arrived as he moaned in the spasms of orgasm.  Semen flowed into her at more than twenty-feet per second from the tip of his love muscle.

Smiling at him as he relaxed.  Rose leaned full length on his body and relaxed.   His seed slowly leaking out of her as he kissed her face.

“Mm…that was not bad.” She smiled as she kissed him again.  “For a second time.”

Laughter faded as she kissed him, her slim body relaxing on his.  She slipped him out of her and  slid off to his side.  Going to sleep with  her head on his shoulder and a leg draped over his belly.

The morning would deal with the morning issues.

 <Fin>