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Dragon Rider

The Raising of the Organic Light

By Raye WhitePublished 2 years ago Updated 2 years ago 9 min read
1

There weren’t always dragons in the valley. Most were still oblivious to their existence, eyes attuned to a world of Durmak’s making, unable to see the magick that was growing in power every day since the event. Soon the day would come where all people and beasts alike would see it and the dragon riders would be able to hide no more.

We’d meet weekly in the forest, communing with the tree dryads whose presence was growing more visible each day. Their faces that were before static, now revealed their true expressions as their spirit’s pulsated and shuddered with the joy of finally being seen and respected.

Many, we soon realised, were portals for the fae, whom unlike the tiny beings we had grown up with in our childhood fairytales, were as tall as us humans, if not taller, mostly slender with a grace and beauty that most humans would die for. Except Nethwiel. He was bigger and wider than a bull with a temperament to match. He wasn’t quite there yet, still slightly unforgiving of humanity’s ignorance and the damage they had done in their oblivious state to his kingdom, the Faery realm.

We called ourselves the Tatsuya, meaning becoming dragon. At the conjunctions, when certain stars aligned with the old stones, we’d take our places across the land, sitting with our dragons, welcoming them, praising them, acknowledging their awakening and the rise of the organic light, singing to them the ancient songs they once gave to our ancestors before the heaviness descended upon the earth.

Durmak weaved his magick. Why some of us were immune to it we are not clear. We suspect our ancestors had weaved their own spells of protection into our DNA, having the gift of foresight, knowing that one day this time would come. It was believed that many of the Tatsuya had dragon blood. Soon it would be obvious to all who looked upon us.

Many thought Durmak a dragon and it suited him to have us believe it was so. He was a creature born of chaos, always seeking to control. Insanely jealous of a love he cannot himself behold. If he can’t experience the organic light then no one can, his envy a poison, raining down upon the earth. He was no dragon for dragons, unlike the ones in our myths that he created, are the source of all that is beautiful and luminous in this world. Dragons serve the One and will destroy the wicked. They are the protectors of life, guardians of She, bringing harmony to the heart and soul of mankind.

It is no wonder Durmak has gone to such great lengths to bind them, channelling their raw power for his own creation. He survives in chaos, harmony is his nemesis. He has been thorough for sure, in demonising these magnificent beasts, my ancestors, implanting his stories in the minds of man as he has manipulated myths, twisted narratives, distorted images with little or no resistance because the weakness of the human is a trusting heart and a general lack of awareness of the power contained within it.

No one knows anymore what is truth and what is fiction. Before the event, history seemed to be rewriting itself every week and nobody seemed to notice. All the holls seemed to care about was whether or not they had enough credits to play in the Everland. They had nothing in the real world and they thought they were happy. They could pretend to own whatever they imagined in the Everland. To us they had become the walking dead.

The event was the beginning of a great bifurcation. Durmak’s interference and hatred for humanity caused a great rift between couples, friends, families, communities, countries. His influence spanned the whole globe. Human consciousness is connected through its own web and he’d found a way to hack it. He knew the event would come, from the prophecy of old. He knew it was a numbers game. It seemed none were unaffected by the split as those that had been hollowed were unplugged from their mother earth and plugged into a virtual world of Durmak’s creation.

The event was a choice point, yet those under the spell had not chosen their own path. He had chosen, bending their minds with his will. I, like many of my Tatsuya brethren, had lost family to Durmak’s trickery. They had given their autonomy to him long ago and they didn’t even know they had been manipulated into it. They would swear blind that their choices were their own free will. If only they had remembered that their will came first through their own heart, that it was not a voice in their mind. Durmak was now the master of their soul and if he had his way, every human being that existed would be hollowed. They would have no access to the source of joy in this life, to She, his mother, the source of universal love.

Many of us that are not under Durmak’s spell fled the cities, setting up small communities on the fringes of “civilised” society, choosing the natural world over a virtual prison, choosing human connection and a simple life over instant gratification of our senses and the accumulation of make believe wealth in a kingdom that does not exist.

I cannot describe the pain we have endured, seeing the light diminish from our loved ones eyes, now nothing more than empty shells as they robotically parrot his stories, defend his truths and refuse to have anything to do with us peasants. Yes, that is what they call us because we still choose to live and work with the land. We call them holls, short for the hollowed.

Our community Spirit has grown stronger. With the help of the dragons we have learnt to love and not fear each other again. We are remembering the Joy and seeing the beauty that She, the Mother of our soul, wants us to experience in this earthly life. We turned our faces back towards Her and in doing so we light her up. Her Dragons are awakening and with the help of us dragon riders, their luminous fire is beginning to dissolve the heaviness of Durmak’s spell.

The dragons need us riders to overthrow Durmak, as much as we need them. We are two ends of the same wave. We are their eye, they are our body, we appear separate but in truth we are one. Her wisdom pulsates in all dragon’s hearts and is expressed in this world through ours. Tell this to a holl and they just laugh. They don’t believe in magic, dragons or fairies and long gone are the days when I needed them to believe.

Nethwiel says that many faeries don’t believe in humans either. He is working on the other side to awaken the fae that are also under Durmak’s spell, which always leads faery or human to blame and shame. While fingers are being pointed at each other, no one is looking in his direction. The fae blame humans for the loss of their trees and their homes, as trees are the one thing that both the worlds share. Humans have long told folk stories of their children being kidnapped by the Fae, when really it is Durmak playing us off against each other. I can imagine his glee, thinking he is getting away with murder. And often he is. For he knows if humans and faeries once again become allies, his make believe world will crumble as will his porous concrete when Her torrential storms hit, raindrops soaking into them in search of the soil beneath.

“It’s nearly time Alaria”, Nethwiel spoke gently and matter of factly, as if we were going to the movies or something. The thought of movies made me squirm. I’d enjoyed them at the time, not knowing they were a thread in Durmak’s spell.

“I know. I’m ready”, I sighed with the hint of a smile.

It always amused me when Nethwiel was calm. He’d had to learn to be quickly, for the rules of physics were different here. A hothead in the faery realm literally had a head on fire, which was a liability in this world. I adored his stocky face, eyes intense yet with a stillness and depth of the Scottish lochs I used to frequent as a child. He could not hide his emotions if he tried. None of the fae could and many would spontaneously shape shift to reflect their feelings. That is why they embodied so much of Her joy. They couldn’t hold onto anything for long or they’d self destruct. They of course had evolved through magick, not technology. Where it took us days to rebuild the structures we destroyed, in their realm they were replaced in a matter of hours, sometimes minutes. Just not the trees.

“Alaria. Focus. We have to be ready. The gnomes are preparing the portal. Where is Sha? We have this one chance to infiltrate his matrix. Orion is in alignment.” He was beginning to glow a hint of orange which made me smile even more.

“Alaria!” His face pleading that I stop.

“Chill Nethwiel!” My smile turned to giggle which made his orange glow burn brighter. “She will meet us at the mound. We will enter there and journey to the Kings Stones for the alignment. Has she let us down yet? We are becoming more and more attuned with each journey. Last time we shrunk to the size of a pin hole, this time I know we can do it. I know we need to. Hempo has been helping me to dissolve. I’ve been training with him this last week.”

A smile appeared again on Nethwiel’s face as it returned to his normal hue of dark golden sand. He knew the raw power of my dragon. She was closest to our mother, a handmaiden of Mother of All. She was born to protect Her at all costs and Nethwiel had first hand experience of Sha’s destructive powers as well as her life enhancing ones. Only those with innocent hearts, pure and without judgement, could ride her. She had chosen me. Purity to the dragons didn’t mean the same as it did in human terms. I know Nethwiel trusted me with her power but there were those that are not so keen for me to be her Shen.

“I am Alaria, the chosen Shen of Shashosuak. Mother of dragons. Master of the blue dragon flame. We will awaken the sleeping dragons. We will not rest until the organic light is risen.”

We played this game sometimes. He liked to hear me say it. My voice was firm yet from him I could hide nothing. He felt the doubts dancing across my brow. I was young and I had not asked for this role, but Shashosuak had chosen me and who was I to deny Her.

Fantasy
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About the Creator

Raye White

Sacred pen holder, spiritually inclined, blogs, writes poems and speaks them as The Bendy Witch. A tzolkin white wizard, teaches yoga & meditation, practices shamanism, loves dragons and faeries, lives on boat. A wizard is never late...

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Outstanding

Excellent work. Looking forward to reading more!

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  1. Heartfelt and relatable

    The story invoked strong personal emotions

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    Well-structured & engaging content

  3. Excellent storytelling

    Original narrative & well developed characters

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    Zero grammar & spelling mistakes

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Comments (2)

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  • Lynne Hatch2 years ago

    Want to know more please. Feels like a book I would not be able to put down. So on point with our current human experience now! Love it xx

  • Nij2 years ago

    Brilliant, love the parallels to what we have happening in our current realm 😉

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