A Forgotten Love

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The boy backed away from him, slightly intimidated by the huge dragon standing over him, tail lashing, and his teeth bared 

“What do you mean?” he asked only a slight tremor in his voice.

“I mean, how do you know the forgotten language?!” Obitus hissed.

“I-I was taught it” he stammered. “By my friend” he added.

“Who is your friend” Obitus demanded.

The boy looked over the railing at the water below, then back at Obitus. “Just a man who said he’d teach me something that would astound the world. He lied though. When I spoke the ‘forgotten language’ or whatever you called it all they did was look at me like I was insane. My parents got so worried, they called a doctor and he said fresh air would help me so my parents sent me on this ship. I’m getting off though once we get into harbor” he said defiantly.

“Of course other people aren’t going to understand what you were saying. Only people with a truly quiet mind can make any sense of it” Obitus snorted at the boy’s idiocy. “If you said people looked at you weirdly then why did you speak it to me?” he asked quizzically.

The boy scowled. “Well you’re not human for one . . . and it just seemed right” he said looking up at Obitus.

Obitus stared at him not knowing how to respond. Luckily, he didn’t have to because the trapdoor banged open again and a burly sailor came forwards and started yelling at the boy, while casting an angry, nervous glance at Obitus. Then he grabbed the boy by the arm and began to pull him back towards the trapdoor.

Obitus called after the boy “Wait! What is your name?!”

The boy glanced back at him over his shoulder. “Lukas” he replied before he was pushed below decks by the burly sailor. The trapdoor was quickly closed and Obitus was left in silence to wait for the sun to come up.

Obitus dozed off and his head was filled with terrifying visions that he’d managed to put aside in his mind until now. Blood splashed across his vision and Obitus woke with a start at a sudden noise and when he opened his eyes, he saw that the sailors on the ship were moving around, pulling up crates from below decks and shouting to each other from across the ship. The ship was moving again, into the busy harbor, that lined streets where carts pulled by shiny horses traveled by. The boat pulled up to a long wooden plank and a few sailors jumped off and secured the boat before helping unload whatever the ship was holding. Obitus watched as a small crowd gathered on the streets, shouting questions at others about the golden dragon on the ship.

After a few minutes of the sailors ignoring him, a tall man with a curving sword at his belt approached him with another sailor at his side. The tall man studied him for a few minutes and Obitus felt smoke start to spiral out of his nostrils, as he stared back at the man defensively.

 Finally the man turned to the other one and asked “Is he calm and not to dangerous?”

His companion snorted in amusement and replied “Can’t you use your brain? He’s a dragon! Use your head”

Almost instantly the tall man’s sword was in his hands and pressed against his companion’s throat, the other hand holding a fistful of his shirt. “Don’t insult me, Brandon. Now answer my question or it’ll cost you more than a missing finger” he snarled.

At that moment, Obitus noticed that Brandon was missing a finger on his left hand. Obitus decided that this man was dangerous, filled with the same viper poison that had filled Veto and drove him to complete evil tasks. He gave a hiss and stretched his wings out, towering over the man and Brandon.

Strangely the man with sword didn’t seem afraid. Instead he dropped Brandon onto the deck and walked around Obitus, studying him again.

Obitus watched him, swinging his head around so he could stare into the man’s eyes. His eyes held a challenge in them, but the man’s eyes were sort of glassed over and had a strange, unearthly look to them.

Finally the man turned away and looked at Brandon who’d picked himself up. “How much do you want?” he asked.

Brandon shrugged and looked at the water, jaw clenched. “Donna know. You’ll have to talk to Captain Morse” he replied, looking back at the man.

The man sighed then asked “Where is he?’

Almost instantly a man with a beard and a happy expression on his face walked up. “Jason? Is that you?” he asked in a loud voice.

The man with the sword, Jason, looked over Brandon’s shoulder and replied coldly “It’s General Glen, now”

Captain Morse didn’t react at all. “So what’re you doing here? Come to purchase a case of wine. It’s imported from India”

“Sadly no. I’m here to ask the price of your golden dragon” General Glen replied in the same chilly tone.

“He’s already called for. The captain of the guard at the duke’s palace came up to me already and said the duke would pay the animal’s weight in gold if I deliver it to him, to put on display, or maybe, kill and make something out of the scales and flesh” Captain Morse replied in an apologetic tone.

General Glen scowled and paused a moment before brushing past Brandon and Captain Morse and down the plank onto the ground where he was soon lost in the crowd.

Obitus relaxed slightly but he was now wound up at the thought of a duke trying to kill him. A deep growl rose up from his throat at the thought of it and Captain Morse and Brandon gave him and alarmed glance before hurrying away.

A little while later, Lukas approached him looking around as though he didn’t want to be seen talking to Obitus. “You ok?” he asked, looking up at him.

Obitus gave a short nod and Lukas glanced around again before saying. “I’m gonna make a run for it now. Hopefully no one will spot me and I can find a job that pays better than this and doesn’t involve seasickness. Good luck, becoming the duke’s pet” Then he was gone scampering off the deck and merging with the crowd before any sailor could raise the alarm.

Obitus watched him go, feeling slightly sad to see him go. Then his mind returned to the present and he glanced around the deck, wondering if he could somehow break free. He tested the strength of the chains and found them to quite solid. But then he stopped and his nostrils flared wondering if he was imagining it. But he wasn’t. His nose picked up the scent of Esperanza and if he concentrated he could almost follow it. Straight down the street in front of him.