Esmeralda of Dracosia: Chapter 15
By: Christina Relich,
Staff Writer
As quickly as she could, Esmeralda flew to Orion’s chamber, Geal at her tail. “Orion!” she called, barging in without waiting for a reply. The golden dragon’s head whipped upwards as they came in.
“Esmeralda! Geal! What’s wrong? What’s happened?” the Leader said urgently.
“I’ve just had a word with your prisoner,” explained Esmeralda, walking up to him.
Orion’s expression turned serious. “Tell me more.”
Esmeralda explained the meeting that she had held with the Shade Stinger. Orion listened without a word, but his eyes flickered as he contemplated the creature’s rhymes. When Esmeralda had finished, he was silent for a long time.
“What do you make of it, Sire?” said Geal.
“The Nightmare Dragon,” murmured Orion. “If I recall correctly, there is an old legend that may be able to help us. Geal, return to training. Esmeralda, come with me. We’re going to pay a visit to old Zhishi.”
Zhishi. Now there was a name that sent hope into Esmeralda’s heart. Zhishi was an ancient Lung dragon, an oriental dragon breed considered to be the wisdom-keepers of Dracosia. They did not have wings, but their long, agile bodies could sail through the sky if they mustered their magic. However, Zhishi was unlike most of his kind. Though he held the answers to many problems, his antics tended to be closer to ‘absent minded’ than ‘great wisdom holder’. However, this made him all the more likeable to Esmeralda.
Orion and Esmeralda flew out of the giant cavern that held the Great Tree and headed towards another tree just on the cliff’s edge. It was about one third the size of the great tree, which meant that it was still a considerable size. A warm glow came from inside the thick trunk and shone out through a dragon-sized hole.
“Zhishi?” called Orion as they stepped inside. “Zhishi, where are you?”
The dragons stepped carefully around several mettle trinkets that littered the floor, all fashioned by the elder dragon. Esmeralda didn’t have a clue what half of the things did, but the things had a purpose to Zhishi, so the trinkets had to do something. At least, most of them did. In addition to the mechanical clutter were books; loads and loads of them. A great pile of them laid on the floor, filled with field guides, legends, and histories.
“Zhishi?” Orion called again. “Where the blazes is that old—”
“Pleasure to grace you presence, sire!” Zhishi exclaimed from directly behind Orion.
“AAAHHH!” the Leader screamed, tripping backwards into the pile of books.
Zhishi hurriedly climbed down from the ceiling. “Oh, do be careful! Those books are centuries old!”
“Well, I’m not the one who jumped out of nowhere!”
“Esmeralda!” Zhishi exclaimed, completely ignoring Orion. “How are you, my dear?”
Esmeralda chuckled. “I am well. You?”
“Oh, fine, fine!” Zhishi hurried over to a shelf of odds and ends. “You should have seen the star storm last night, it was positively exquisite, my dear!” He grabbed a slender tube with a clear material on the end, looking through it towards the stars. “Happens once in only about 1,000 years, I have read. Or is that 10? Can’t remember for the life of me—oh! Esmeralda, do be a dear and pass me that gold book beside you? Ah, yes!” Esmeralda tried to suppress her laughter as the elder took the book. His tail nimbly wrapped around a pair of spectacles and settled them firmly on his snout. “Ah, ha!” Zhishi glanced through the tube again, this time at the ground. “A distinct shudder of grass! The trolls are among us!”
“Trolls live in the mountains, Zhishi,” Orion grumbled, finally shaking himself free of the last book’s grasp.
Zhishi looked back and adjusted his glasses. “My dear boy, that’s what they want you to think!” Zhishi snorted, looking back at his studies. “What do they teach chicks nowadays?” he muttered with distaste.
Orion rolled his eyes, and Esmeralda laughed.
“They should have made me a professor. Well, they have, but not anymore. Say I’ve gone eccentric with my age. Humph! Age is in the eye of the beholder, but wisdom—”
“Beauty,” Orion interrupted.
“What?”
“Beauty. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.”
Zhishi paused, and Esmeralda could practically see his mind churning.
“Same difference,” the elder shrugged. Orion opened his mouth, but Zhishi cut him off. “Now, as I was saying, wisdom is timeless. One can learn a great deal from old, dusty books. Some may even consider me an old dusty book, but that’s their opinion entirely.”
“Indeed…”muttered Orion. Esmeralda slapped him with her tail. “Ow!”
“Oh, do watch yourselves! I have mice. Terribly cute things, but also very naughty. Tried to play spin-around in my wind-checker-device, once. They ended up being flung up and out so hard that one never came down from the ceiling! Serves him right, too. You shouldn’t meddle in other people’s affairs, or else you’ll end up a mouse on the ceiling! Wait a moment…”
“Zhishi,” Esmeralda smiled at him. “As much as we would like to hear more about your ceiling mice—”
“Oh, and I have tons of tails to tell you! Hm hm! Tails. See what I did there? Mice have tails, and—”
“—and we have a problem,” Orion interjected. “Zhishi, do you know anything about a ‘Nightmare Dragon’?”
Zhishi’s carefree expression suddenly turned serious, his wrinkled scales becoming more prominent. The merry twinkle in his eye disappeared. “Yes. I do,” he answered flatly. “It’s a horrible tale. One that’s put more years on me than I’d like, in more ways than one.” The elder sighed before climbing the side of a tall bookcase that was embedded in the tree. He rummaged through the books, until his eyes fell upon an ancient red one with leather binding. Zhishi cleared off a small flat stump in the tree, setting the book down and lighting a nearby candle with his blue fire. “Sit,” he ordered, slowly opening the book. “Sit, and hear the tale of the Nightmare Dragon Nymaul.”
* * *
“The tale began long, long ago, during the rule of the ancient leaders of Dracosia. Commanding the Great Tree at the time was a burley, fiery scaled dragon by the name of Arulam. He was a merry, fun-loving dragon, despite his size; more of a gentle giant. He always had something witty to say, and never looked at any dragon harshly. There was always a wise, friendly gaze waiting to be found in his tawny eyes, but deeper still there laid a fierce loyalty and protectiveness that extended to all his subjects. He was the perfect image of a good dracosian leader.
“However, as his blazing scales glowed warm with his love for the dragons he watched over, a dark shadow was constantly cast behind him. Overlooked by most, and very easily forgotten, this shadow was that of Arulam’s elder brother; the black as night Nymaul. He was even larger than his brother, but what really made others intimidated were his eyes. They were pure white; so white, some say, that the edges became stained with red because they were so blinding.
“But how can the elder dragon not be leader, you may ask? Why had Arulam been granted the honorable title of leader instead of Nymaul? Well, when the brothers came of age, their father gave them each a test to see who would make the best leader for Dracosia, as he wanted the best for his kingdom. The young dragons were set to fly around the land on a sky-path set for them by their father’s magic. The rules were simple: whichever one endured the best and made it back first would be the winner of the race. Yet, there was a catch. Dragons would be positioned along the path; dragons who were I need of aid or wisdom. Arulam, despite his own desire to win, stopped at each of these intervals to help. Nymaul, completely and utterly fixed on the leadership that dangled teasingly before him, ignored the pleas for aid and sped past his brother. When they both finally reached the finish, Nymaul having gotten there first, their father announced the winner to be Arulam. A true leader, said he, was one who stopped and tended to the needs of his subjects. Thus, Arulam became Leader of Dracosia.
“Nymaul was furious. He immediately accused his family of ganging up on him, and retreated to the shadows of his dark sleeping chamber. Instead of letting this resentment go, however, Nymaul let it fester inside him, and he hate grew stronger with every day he saw his brother. Years and years passed, the father had passed on, and Arulam had a mate and a chick of his own. But none ventured near Nymaul. He became the lone battle trainer who everyone was afraid of, and according to the chicks, would most likely eat you if you misbehaved.
“On the night of the blue moon, while the celestial orb was at its fullest, Nymaul could take it no longer, and with a bloodcurdling cry of molten fire, he sprang upwards towards the sky and….transformed. No longer was he any kind of brother he used to be at hatching. His hate seeped out of his scales in a painful flood, flickering down his frame like lightning. His forelegs became like the wings on his back, so that he now had two pairs of leathery wings raising him into the clouds. His horns curved, thick and ram-like, teeth jutted up from his jaw, his eyes glowed luminescent red in the night, and he grew. He grew massive; some say nearly as large as the Great Tree itself.
“Dragons screamed in terror. Chicks ran crying to their mothers. Guards threw on armor. The Leader stood in horror. This horror of Arulam, you must understand, was not of lack of courage. It was that his own brother had become a monster. But Nymaul was out for destruction, and the orange-scaled leader knew that it was his duty to protect the tree and his family. And so, glowing with the intensity of his magic, brother fought brother. The magic wielder and the monster. None could get the upper hand. Finally, Arulam knew what he had to do. His magic aura grew so bright that the sky lit up with flames. The burning fire that surrounded Arulam was killing him, but with one final cry, he dove straight at his brother’s chest. All went dark. Two seconds later, a fire blast erupted then was gone. The Tree was saved, but the brothers were no more.
“Some say that a burning orange star appeared in the heavens on that night. But they also claim that the shadows were never the same after the incident, either. Now and again, a dragon would dream in darkness, where all they could feel was the burning of two red eyes and the chill of the darkness found close to death. These nightmares only happened on full moons, and happen much less now. But once in a while, some dragon will feel the edge of death, see those glinting red eyes and know; there is a nightmare watching.”
* * *
Esmeralda and Orion sat in stunned silence as Zhishi looked up at them from behind his spectacles. “The creature spoke to you, Esmeralda, did it not?” said the elder tiredly.
Esmeralda hesitated for a moment, but then nodded.
Zhishi sighed, his eyes closing. Never had he looked so old.
“You wish to know so much, so soon,
But the battle will come at the fullest of moons.
“When the stars are all hiding, when the owls cease their call,
At the peaks of Black Mountains, it begins with Nymaul.”
Esmeralda’s eyes widened. “H-how did you—”
“I am old, but I see visions. Visions and premonitions. But that is not what worries me. ‘On the fullest of moons’, said he. Nymaul first rose on a blue moon.
The next one is in three days.”