Day of the Dragon: The Lasting Sunset

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

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The crop is looking fine this year, a pleasant sight for Felissa as she walks through the fields of wheat and barley. The crop heads are golden and plump, weighing down the long stalks that hold the heads aloft. Harvest is quickly approaching. Perhaps only two weeks from now Felissa will be in the fields with her father from dawn till dusk, sweltering through the hot days and listening to her father straining against his sore back.

Felissa owns most of the physical work, for which her father is forever grateful. He doesn’t express his appreciation for her with words, but he makes sure she is never wanting for food; a full plate is always awaiting her come dinner time.

She is more than happy to help, of course. She rather enjoys the quiet moments at work. While the sun can be hot, it also warms her cheeks on those colder days and sparkles on the water in the nearby well. While the wind can blow the hat off her head, it also fills the fields with life, rustling the crop to a chittering, whispering sound that sends shivers down her spine.

But then the quiet moments shift into quiet hours, lengthening into quiet days, and stretching into quiet weeks. The silence surrounds her entirely, and she finds herself vulnerable, waiting for the sun to blind her eyes and the wind to rip the air from her lungs.

When time slips away and a new season arrives, only a visit to Franklin breaks her stupor. Today is one of those days.

“Pa, I’ll be back after sundown!” Felissa calls as she saddles up her old horse, Tally.

“Are ye goin’ te Gallina?” his rough voice says from the cottage.

“Nah, I’m going to see Franklin.”

“You be careful, ye hear? Joffrey said trouble’s a’brewin’ near Gallina. Spoke to someone who spotted an army towin’ som’n fierce.”

Felissa hesitates while tying back her long blonde hair. “Towing what now? Pa, maybe we should stay with Aunt Sheenagh in Gallina tonight. It’s safe in the walls.”

“Eh, if it’s a large band, they’ll head straight for Wall Agassi and the guard’ll deal wit’ ‘em. We’ll be fine home tonight.”

Truth rings in his words, but it doesn’t settle Felissa’s concerns. Her heartbeat quickens as the fear lances through her. The raiding groups that target the farms are terrifying enough, but an army? If the city guard doesn’t kill them quickly enough, they will shift into the farmlands to replenish their food stocks and take anything they want. The city guard has been absent from their area lately… Felissa feels nervous.

The young girl shakes off the smothering feelings, mounts Tally and trots across to the dirt track, which links their farm to the next. At a decent pace, she will get to Franklin’s vineyard, halfway to Gallina, in about an hour. As she approaches Joffrey’s farm, her heart twists with pity. The old man is trying to manage his farm by himself. His wife passed from sickness and his grown kids went to join the city guard of Gallina. Abandoning a father like that… Felissa will give those men a piece of her mind if she ever sees them again!

Joffrey is out in his field, harvesting early... alone. With a moral obligation hardening her resolve, the girl dismounts, leading Tally toward Joffrey’s cottage where he will stand patiently in the shade.

“Joffrey! I’m going to make you some dinner, okay?”

Felissa’s strong voice carries through the wind to the old man’s ears. His bald head pops up, covered with sweat, squinting at her.

“Thanks darlin’!”

She is too generous for her own good. That is what Franklin has always told her. He makes it sound like a fault, but he always lends a helping hand to neighbours in need. Felissa digs through Joffrey’s ill-tended garden, hands finding purchase on two small potatoes buried in the earth. Next comes an onion and some herbs from a bush around the corner, a stray carrot… overall, Felissa spends more time helping Joffrey than she expected. By the time she collects water from the well, and gets the vegetables cleaned, chopped and cooking over a low fire, it is late afternoon.

Joffrey is so focused on his work that he doesn’t hear Felissa’s goodbye before she takes off at a gallop toward Franklin’s home. As Tally powers over the wooden bridge crossing the stream that flows by Gallina, Felissa feels a wave of adrenaline pump through her. She urges Tally on, faster and faster, speeding by oncoming travellers with glee. A grin spreads ear-to-ear across Felissa’s face as the world flies by her. She and Tally are unstoppable!

Bring on the army! They will never catch her when she has Tally; he is still fast in his old age. Franklin’s small house comes into sight, backed by the fantastic spectacle of Wall Agassi towering into the sky, the setting sun sitting on it like it would a horizon.

“Franky! You home?”

The vineyard surrounding the cottage is empty. Felissa peers down every row of endless grapes but sees nobody. Shadows creep between the plants with the setting sun. As Tally’s hooves clop onto the stone entrance to the cottage, a dog comes bounding out to greet them.

“Dang it! Where you off to?” Franklin’s agitation is heard from outside the home. His dark eyes peek out from the shutters. “I should’ve guessed it was you, Liss. Spud has never been good at making friends, other than you.”

“Well, maybe you should make better friends and Spud will make more, too. Spud is lovely!”

A weight lifts from Felissa’s shoulders and as Franklin steps out into the fading golden light, her stomach flutters with butterflies. His warm brown eyes melt away the stress that grips her, the smile lifting his lips makes her mouth turn dry. She shouldn’t be nervous, but she can never squash the panicky jolts through her body when he speaks to her.

“What brings you all the way here? Heading into Gallina?” His eyebrow lifts.

“I came to see you, actually.” Felissa’s heart pounds behind her chest. “I meant to get here earlier, but I got caught up helping Joffrey and-”

“How is the old feller?”

“He is tired, he looks exhausted,” a low tone seeps into Felissa’s usually cheery voice. “I don’t know how much longer he can do it -”

“Don’t be silly. That old codger is stronger than he looks.” Franklin beams his white teeth in a grin, but he can’t hide the concern shadowing his eyes from her.

“So, uh, is your father home?”

Franklin teases Spud with a strip of homemade jerky. “Nah, he is staying in Gallina tonight, I’d say. He said he’d be at the shop late. He has been spending more time there. I’ve been running the farm by myself while he mans the store most of the time. I don’t see him often now.”

A deep frown is carved into Franklin’s face as he feeds Spud, an expression which matches Felissa’s.

“Well, in that case… um, Pa said I should get home real quick tonight, but I don’t want to leave already when we’ve only just said hello, and if your father is going to be in Gallina tonight anyway… I want you to come home with me.”

Franklin’s eyebrows shoot up and his wide eyes flick to Felissa, still sitting atop Tally. Words fail Felissa as she scrambles to explain herself.

“Oh! Well, um, Pa said to get home early. I mean, Ma and Pa will be home, it won’t just be you and me… I mean, I want you to come home with me but not only me, you know? It’s just, someone saw an army marching toward Gallina and you live so close to the city, I just don’t think it’s safe and -”

“Liss,” Franklin says, struggling to contain his smile. “I have heard about the troops, too. I’d be happy to come visit you and your family for the night, so long as they don’t mind, and if I can bring Spud.”

Spud barks, licking at Franklin’s hands for more jerky. For a moment Felissa watches the boy pet his dog, not realising that her mouth is ajar. Her heartbeat is hammering in her ears. Eventually she realises Franklin is watching her with a crooked smile, waiting for her to speak.

“Oh, of course, that’s fine. Spud, can you keep up with Tally?”

While Franklin ducks inside, Spud sniffs at Tally’s hocks and hops in excitement, as if he knows he is about to go for an adventure. When Franklin emerges from the house with a small sack of food in hand, Spud barks and takes off down the dirt road.

“Jump on, we better catch your silly dog before he gets too far ahead!”

Felissa reaches her hand down, helping pull up Franklin behind her as he vaults himself upward, almost missing swinging his leg over.

“Ugh, has Tally gotten bigger or something?”

“Nah, you are just too stiff, or unfit,” Felissa says smugly. “Alright, hold on!”

She digs her heels gently into Tally’s side. He never needs much encouragement; that pressure is enough to jolt him forward. Even with the extra weight, he takes off with vigour. Franklin tips backwards and his arms shoot forward to grab Felissa. His hands find her waist and he pulls himself close to her, feeling himself slide over Tally’s smooth back as the horse gallops.

It is both terrifying and exhilarating. He only wishes he could sit steadily in a saddle, but Felissa is his anchor. They overtake Spud, who barks and increases his pace to race beside them. After five minutes, the pooch’s tongue hangs out of his mouth as he tires and slows.

“Alright, woah, woah, Tally. Spud can’t keep up!”

Spud trots up, panting, but he doesn’t stop. The dog keeps trotting down the narrow road with Tally and the riders following. When the sun dips from the world and the night falls, the pair hears it. A magnificent screech pierces the blanket of silence across the land. The hairs on Felissa’s arms raise and shivers run down her spine. A second shriek sounds.

“What in the - where did that come from?” Felissa looks up at the sky. “The sky, it looks… brown?”

She twists in her saddle and looks around Franklin’s body. At her expression of horror, he spins to see a glow in the distance, a flare in dark, like the sun never set.

As the smell of the stew Felissa made for Joffrey wafts through the air, the pair realise the city of Gallina is on fire.

“No… no. Liss, turn Tally around! I have to get to Gallina, I have to make sure my father’s okay!”

Franklin’s panic is tangible; tense hands grip her hips and fearful eyes beg her for help. Despite the danger, Felissa grits her teeth and steers Tally around to face the burning city. It is like Franklin always says: she is too generous for her own good.