Dragon & Dreamer | ONC 2023 honourable mention

10 - Not a game

The warrior fended him off and grinned. "Well done, dragon. But you'll be dead if you react as if you're scared to see your opponent bleed."

Liha thought of the man he had killed with his dagger, the thickening blood and muck covering him, and nausea tightened his throat. "I won't. But I didn't mean to harm you."

"You didn't. It's another scratch and the first sign that the young dragon learned to bite. Let's finish for today."

After dinner, Melish made the men saddle up again. "We will move on until midnight and unite with another detachment. No time to lose."

No one complained, and Liha didn't ask where they would spend the night. In the fading daylight, the road led them through the rolling hills of his homeland, and nostalgia mixed with his exhaustion saddened him. Berim rode beside him in silence. Liha was glad for the company. Had he ever thanked the man for his friendship and support? "Berim, thanks for all that you did to help me."

The warrior turned his head. "You are welcome. But then, perhaps I should thank you?"

"Me? What for?" Liha was too tired to solve riddles.

Berim chuckled. "I don't know, not yet. Only the future will show what comes from today's actions."

In the following silence, Liha  tried to put sense to Berim's words in vain. "I don't understand."

"Don't worry. It was just a mood. Sometimes my Tannarí ancestry plays tricks on me. It happens more often since you are around. So I'm tempted to say something in you brings out this side in me."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Berim's laugh was easy. "It's surprising but not a bad thing, I hope. Who knows, if this goes on, I might yet see a dragon. A real one, I mean."

Liha frowned. "You've never seen one?" He was sure he had glimpsed their mighty forms crossing the night sky once or twice since they left Penira. "They are not that hard to spot."

"Are they, now?" Berim's voice had changed. Was this astonishment? Doubt?

Liha hated being called out. "I'm not a liar."

"I never said you are. But most people nowadays believe dragons are legends, stories made up for children."

"What?" Since that night with Dánirah, it had never occurred to Liha to doubt the existence of the magical beasts. "I've seen them, and so has Dánirah. She said the dragons announce a time of change."

It was almost dark now, but Liha thought he could see a faint gleam in his mentor's eyes as Berim turned towards him. "Who is Dánirah? The way you refer to her expertise, she sounds like an interesting person."

Liha sighed. He imagined he could hear the young woman's laughter when he thought about their night on the roof. "She is a Tanna I met in Penira. One night, we watched the dragons fly over the city, and she taught me some dragon lore."

"A Tanna in Penira?" Berim's voice rose in surprise.

"She came to deliver a message to her mother's friend. We met by coincidence, but she had to leave. I don't think I'll ever see her again."

Berim chuckled. "You are full of surprises, Liha. What else did your Tanna friend teach you?"

"She's not my friend, just a girl I met."

"And whom you can't stop thinking about, by the look of it."

Liha lowered his head. Berim was right, but he didn't like to admit he couldn't stop worrying about the girl travelling the war-torn northern lands alone. "We didn't have the chance to talk much. Perhaps you can tell me more about the dragons."

"Ah, I wish I could. I remember a few bits from my mother, but I was a small child when she died and my father brought me to my relatives in the city. Mother called the night dragons the keepers of the balance between good and evil in this world, the wardens of ulterior justice."

"That is close to what Dánirah called them."

Berim sighed. "It's the old Tannarí lore. Keleni always believed dragons to be evil. Their ancient kings sent out dragon hunters to kill the last of the mighty fire dragons in their nests on the mountain of Shatosh. These days, only their smaller nightly cousins roam the sky. They are shy and avoid us humans, and a wise move it is. Like all the night creatures, they can obscure their form and pass as shadows to our eyes. That's why dragon sightings have become rare, and they who once ruled the skies are believed to be myths now."

"So, you think I only saw them because I was with Dánirah?" Disappointment washed through Liha's mind. The thrill of observing the dragons still made him smile, and he kept watching for their mighty wings every night.

Berim took his time to reply. When he spoke, his voice was low and grave. "I think you saw them because you kept an open mind—and perhaps because they allowed you to see them. And don't ask me if there is a deeper meaning to it. The creatures of the night follow their own purpose. It might differ from what humans aim for, but they are certainly not more or less evil than we are."

Liha still mulled over these words when a guard in the king's colours hailed them. They had reached the camp of a division of the royal troops. While Melish reported with the officer in charge, the men rubbed down the horses and pitched their tents at the edge of the camp. Once installed, some wandered off in search of friends or a mug of ale. After a long day of riding, Liha only craved sleep, but Berim nudged him. "Come, let's walk the stiffness from our legs before we rest."

Aware the warrior's advice was sound, Liha followed him past the camp guards for a short walk across the meadow and to the forest's edge. Berim stopped under a mighty oak tree and turned to overlook the field camp. "It's quiet here. Perhaps too quiet."

"You think war is imminent?" Liha's stomach churned, and an icy trickle ran down his spine. Suddenly, war seemed like a dark monster, ready to shred him with bloodied fangs and devour him like an irrelevant insect. He shivered and slung his arms around himself.

Berim turned around on his axis, his hand resting on the pommel of his sword. "Can you feel the terror?" His voice was a faint breath of a whisper.

Liha nodded, pulling his coat around himself like a protective shell.

"Something is afoot. What we feel is the fear of the creatures the Tannarí name kaedin, little darknesses. Don't let them poison your mind. Their horror is nothing to be alarmed about, just a warning to be heeded." Berim stared into the depth of the forest as if he could fight the panic clawing at his mind with sheer willpower.

Liha stepped closer to his friend, determined to follow the warrior's lead and withstand the urge to run. The more he concentrated on the fear invading his mind, the clearer it became this wasn't something rational. He caught fleeting pictures whirling through his head like a storm of autumn leaves. He recognised clawed monsters and toothy jaws snapping for him. But they dissolved while he focused on them, and after a renewed assault, they faded to an anxious wariness.

"What stopped them?" He didn't dare raise his voice, afraid the horror in his thoughts might return.

Berim rubbed his chin. "I don't know. They are still here, I think. But something changed."

Then, Liha spotted the light. Deep in the forest, it danced like a pale firefly. He pointed it out to Berim, but the warrior shook his head. "I can't see it. Are you sure?"

Liha hesitated. One moment, he saw it bobbing up and down—the next, it disappeared in the undergrowth. He was ready to admit it must have been his imagination, a trick of his tired mind, when the glowing sphere danced towards him, accompanied by a tingling sound like a silver bell. And behind it, something crashed through the brush.

(2054 words)