Fiction logo

Day of the Dragon: A Painter’s Masterpiece

Those who flee are pathetic. Rylan takes a stand, refusing to leave a burning city.

By Eloise Robertson Published 3 years ago 9 min read
1

A piece of a five-part non-chronological series centred around the day of the dragon.

__________________

Wall Agassi encircles the city of Gallina. Nine years the stonemasons spent toiling in its construction and here it stands, towering 25ft tall and wide enough to sport three horses walking abreast. It is an architectural marvel, perfectly designed to allow the flow of the river through the city without compromising safety. The impenetrable ring carries the name of Walter Agassi, a man revered for his contribution to the city while holding a Seat of Nobles.

Gallina is a pillar of societal growth, free from the rule of a singular king and managed instead by the Seats of Nobles. While the city doesn’t parade a significant army, it is the economic and cultural heart in the Mid-East. Of course, this is exactly the place an artist like Rylan Yysden thrives.

Buildings now ablaze with dragonfire, Gallina’s inhabitants are in peril; evacuated into the night or certainly dead. All except Rylan, a man with an ego to match the dragon in size. Last Summer the Noble of Trade invited him to a respected merchant and artisan social club. He was about to leave his store to grace the club with his presence tonight when disaster struck.

Wall Agassi couldn’t protect them from the flying terror.

Gallinan residents were comfortable, even overconfident, in their safety. The Ithalid Kingdom to the North attempted the march to Gallina, but the war ended at the walled border surrounding the city. The attackers only chipped the surface of the rock. They left not even a mark impressive enough to warrant repair. Every month there is a new war band, raiding party, or army testing their metal against Wall Agassi. Every month, they become a new pile of bodies to dissuade the next attackers.

As far as Rylan is concerned, it is pathetic, really. It is pathetic that the greatest powers across the continent can’t muster up the strength to defeat a single wall. Rylan Yysden smugly painted away while failed invaders fell under a barrage of arrows from archers atop Wall Agassi. The idiots are all wasting their time.

Rylan never bothers venturing outside the wall; what’s the point? Everyone talks about how beautiful the forest is, or the golden fields of the farmers shimmering in the wind, but Rylan knows where true beauty lies and it isn’t outside the wall. He discovered early that rich travelers don’t want paintings of a forest (any amateur can paint that), they want a painting of the stone grey wall with ivy growing up between the cracks and the bright sun peaking over the top.

Doing good business is always Rylan’s priority. Three key rules drive the way he trades:

Sell to influential people, not pathetic people.

Always be in the good graces of the person with the deepest pocket.

Above all, never negotiate the price. Lowering price admits lower quality.

With the city now emptied of people, Rylan’s customers may change, but his rules remain the same.

Rylan’s current work-in-progress is going to be his greatest artwork yet. This is his raison d’être. The artist moves his painting to the back of his shop, distanced from the windows radiating heat from burning buildings outside.

Sweat beads on Rylan’s forehead as he sheds his apron, hanging it by the door. His fingers brush the metal hook and he recoils as the surface sears his skin. At least his painting is safe at the back of the shop; tonight would be a veritable disaster if the paint dries too quickly and cracks.

This evening, Gallina discovered their impenetrable Wall Agassi can’t protect them from everything. The city was no match against a fire-breathing dragon. If the archers lowered their bows and let the beast fly overhead, perhaps Gallina wouldn’t be pulsing red, ablaze with the devastating dragon’s fiery breath. Perhaps Rylan would be painting, out to dinner with a fellow business owner, or selling his art to a well-respected nobleman. Instead, he stands by his shop’s shutters, watching the chaos.

The cobblestoned street is empty. The roars of the dragon and screams of the citizens died three hours ago as the sun sank on the horizon and the city itself became a glow lighting the night. For miles, its peril is observed, and beyond that it may look like the sun never set.

When the destruction began, Rylan hunkered down underneath his desk as his fellow artisans fled their stores, running home in the desperate hope their families would still be alive. The city evacuated with Wall Agassi left unattended, and the front portcullis left raised for citizens to escape with their life. The dragon continued on its journey, leaving the town a flaming wreck of its former glory, leaving Rylan to watch the fire ravage his street.

With the portcullis open, it won’t be long until a scouting party from a warring nation reports Gallina’s vulnerability back to whatever army they are from. By morning, Rylan expects warriors marching through the front entrance.

The artist takes a careful sip of water from the jug he keeps ready for customers. He has to use it sparingly in order to survive the night. Rylan has no intention of leaving his store and paintings to perish in the flames. He would rather end as a martyr known as the famous artist that died to protect his masterpieces.

Architects who fled the city did not watch in horror as their grand designs melted under the fury of the dragon’s anger. Scholars did not protect the library and its contents from destruction as it crumbled into a heap, scrolls and knowledge smoldering into nothing. Pathetic behaviour, according to Rylan.

One dragon undid decades of progress in a single hour of terror. It is Rylan’s responsibility as a good citizen to protect his art for the sake of preserving culture. At least, that’s what he plans to tell everyone.

“I will be the hero of Gallina,” the artist says to himself with a sly smile.

Rylan peaks out his windows, craning his neck to look up and down the major thoroughfare of Gallina. The fire reduced several buildings to a pile of clay, wood, and rock. Some are still burning, and few are untouched by the lick of the flames. Six shops across on the opposite side of the street, his competitor’s roof and wooden window frames are alight. Ubert was one of the first to abandon his shop and evacuate.

Pathetic, Rylan thinks.

At first, a grim satisfaction settles into his chest, but after a few minutes of watching the flame crawl up the wall of the opposing store, a dread seeps in. Part of Rylan’s success comes from people’s nature to compare products; his art is successful because Ubert’s art is clearly not on the same level of quality. When an invading army inevitably conquers the vulnerable city in the coming days, how will they know the value of Rylan’s work without another artisan to compare to?

As the flames crawl higher up the walls of Ubert’s shop, Rylan panics, spinning around in his store, looking for something to help extinguish the fire. The painter grabs a cloth to protect his hand when he opens the front door, the heat of the metal handle quickly blasting through the material. Rylan winces from the heat that stings his thumb and grabs a small pail of dirty paint water before running down the cobblestoned street to Ubert’s shop.

The temperature is oppressive. It forces Rylan to close his eyes as the heat attacks them, and he stumbles onward, feeling the hairs of his beard singe and his skin burn red. The vicious hot air presses on him from all sides, a force so fierce his knees buckle beneath him as he reaches Ubert’s store.

Rylan wraps his hand in the cloth again before using the metal door handle. Inside, flames lick at the beams holding the ceiling up, and the joints where the walls and ceiling meet. At any moment, the structure can collapse, crushing Rylan underneath. He has to hurry. He grabs a trolley with small wooden wheels from beside the main counter and snatches the paintings from the walls. The canvases and frames sit so awkwardly atop one another that they rock as Rylan moves the trolley.

The sound of the wooden support beams above creaking and fizzling strikes fear into the artist as he readies the trolley. He only takes one step through the door before he hesitates, turning to look at the entrance to Ubert’s back room. Once the trolley is out of the shop, standing haphazardly amid a burning street, Rylan spins on his heels and races into the back room.

The space pulses with the light of the flames consuming the building. Through the flashing glow, Rylan sees it, and his jaw drops. Placed on an easel in the room’s corner is a breathtakingly beautiful canvas of art. Air hitches in Rylan’s throat as he gasps in awe, mesmerised by the swirling colours and harmony of shapes. He can’t believe Ubert’s amateur hand could produce such a masterpiece.

A sinful thought crosses Rylan’s mind. With any luck, Ubert is dead, pinned beneath some rubble somewhere. Nobody needs to know the genuine artist behind the painting when the idiot is dead, right?

Desperately, Rylan grips the heavy painting, arms barely wide enough to hold both edges, and side-steps his way out of the shop. It balances precariously atop the already-full trolley, and wobbles in a way that sets Rylan’s nerves on edge as he pushes the haul to his shop entrance. His store lies on a street corner, safe from the raging flames consuming the buildings on the other side of the street. There are three shops between the dragonfire and his store. Once Ubert’s paintings are tucked safely into his storage room, Rylan sits on his stool listening carefully to the raging fire nearing.

Hopefully, help will arrive to save Gallina before Rylan, his store, and his stolen masterpiece perish. Perhaps Rylan has a better chance of surviving if he goes to the river running through the city... but he refuses to abandon his art.

Series
1

About the Creator

Eloise Robertson

I pull my ideas randomly out of thin air and they materialise on a page. Some may call me a magician.

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights

Comments

There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

Sign in to comment

    Find us on social media

    Miscellaneous links

    • Explore
    • Contact
    • Privacy Policy
    • Terms of Use
    • Support

    © 2024 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.