Old Love

Old Love

By the law of the Great Treaty the toddler’s life was forfeit, but Ezakalis could not bring himself to kill it.

The great green-black dragon gazed down at the human child, and the toddler stared right back at him with no fear in its eyes, only wonder and awe.

It was not that Ezakalis liked humans. He remembered the time before the Great Treaty like yesterday, when the humans would hunt dragons with their adamantine spears and dreaded ebon-blade swords, and in return the dragons would raze human villages to the ground with fire and rage.

No - it was more that this toddler, this child, was so innocent and so lacking in any kind of malice that some deep part of Ezakalis, the part that knew that there was a grace to all life regardless of race, told him that to kill it would be such an evil act as to be a crime against the Creator himself - and so, despite bestial urgings and his years of righteous rage against mankind he stayed his claw and let the child live.

While he had been pondering whether to let the little human live or not, the toddler had lost complete interest in him and had gone off chasing a blue butterfly around the little clearing in the wood within which they both sat. Ezakalis was upset that the child didn’t realise how close it had come to dying, but on the other hand he couldn’t help smiling as the child ran round the clearing. He wondered if he would feel like this if he were watching a hatchling of his own playing and having fun….

Ezakalis pushed the thought aside. Having decided not to kill the toddler, he had placed himself in a difficult position; he could not abandon it as the nearest human village was over day away and the thing would undoubtably die from exposure if left alone - but on the other hand, what was he supposed to do? Going to the border was not strictly against the Great Treaty, but it was also not done as a matter of decorum, and besides, was Ezakalis supposed to carry the toddler back? What if somebody saw a dragon carrying human child?! That was how wars were started.

While he was thinking of what to do he heard Panthala. There was a huge cry from close by that had her unmistakable alto tone, and Ezakalis cursed to himself - he was glad that the azure female had come into his territory again. Despite his preference for solitude he had found himself missing her more and more lately, but he also knew her feelings about humans, and if she saw the toddler it wouldn’t last a second.

He quickly launched himself into the air and after a few flaps of his great wings he gazed around the forest and the skies to find her and lead her away, after which he could come back and deal with the toddler later. He craned his head trying to spot any sign of her, but the sky was clear which meant…

A grey-azure arrow launched itself into his underbelly, winded him, and clasped onto him with a vise-like grip. Screaming in frustration Ezakalis the great green-black death tumbled out of the sky and crashed through a small oak tree into the ground. He had only been a little above the treeline and was unhurt, but the blow to his pride of being surprised like that hit hard, and he coughed and choked he tried to recover his breath.

‘You’re not as sharp as you used to be Ezakalis.’ He turned and saw Panthala lying a little way away, staring at him with her deep blue eyes and luxuriating in the fact she had got the jump on him.

‘During the wars you would never have been taken by surprise.’

Ezakalis feigned a second coughing fit, then leapt at her with a cat-like grace and pinned her to the ground. She offered no resistance.

‘Maybe I wanted you to take me down.’

‘I’ve trying been trying to take you down for many years.’

The two looked in each other’s eyes at each other for moment, then Ezakalis broke the gaze and slid off her. He walked a little way away and lay down on the ground, his head on his front claws, avoiding the piercing gaze of the female and making sure he drew her attention away from where he had left the human toddler.

Panthala watched him slink off, and stretched her wings.

‘Still no?’

Ezakalis sighed.

‘I am almost there,’ he said, still not looking at her, ‘just not yet.’

Panthala nodded, mulling over his words.

‘That is your right of course,’ she said, ‘but I will only wait one more summer. Then I must accept another.’

Ezakalis nodded back at her. She would probably choose Aethereon, or Itaya, both younger than him and a good match, but neither as wily or as cunning, and female dragons were said to value intelligence very highly, for a clever dragon lived twice as long as a strong one.

‘What are you doing here anyway?’ she said, changing the subject. ‘This is too close to the humans…’ she spat out the last word, ‘for your liking.’

‘It is still my territory,’ Ezakalis shrugged. ‘The game is good here, and if you must know I was investigating a sound…’ he caught himself from continuing.

‘What kind of sound?” She knew him too well to let him get away without chasing the conversation.

‘It turned out to be an injured deer.’ He said, lying badly.

‘Any of it left?’

‘No.’

He couldn’t tell whether Panthala knew he was lying. He suspected she did as she was very intuitive, as blue dragons were said to be, but if she had noticed she showed no sign of it.

‘Ezakalis, it is good see you but I have not come for a social call. There is a Congress to be held.’

Ezakalis looked up.

‘A Congress? Why? Who calls it?’

Panthala turned her gaze away before she answered.

'Seria has returned.’

If he were a cat, Ezakalis’s fur would have immediately stood on end, and he would have hissed his displeasure. His reaction however was subtler, perhaps imperceptible to a human, but Panthala saw it clear as day.

‘She says it’s time for war.’

‘No change there then.’ Ezakalis bristled in discomfort and a little fear. ‘And what do you say?’

‘I think she makes good arguments.’

Ezakalis dropped his head. He would have to leave his beloved territory of what the humans once called the Rolack hills and the Thurnboat River and go to the Congress. He hoped he would survive it.

‘There are many against her,’ Panthala said, and reading his mind, ‘you will most likely be safe if you go.’

Most likely, but not totally. Would the violence start again? Would the arguments have to be made anew?

‘I will leave you to your solitude Ezakalis,’ she said, watching him lapse into deep thought ‘but remember, only one more summer.’

And with that the grey-blue dragon soared into the air, the sunlight glinting on her scales, and Ezakalis thought how beautiful she was, and how it might feel might feel to sleep in the same lair as her, but then he shook his head. Despite their differences, humans and dragons both leave themselves open to a terrible pain by letting themselves be vulnerable and fall in love, and even after all these years Ezakalis’s loss still burned a hole in his heart.

So he contented himself to watch her fly, letting out a sigh of relief that she had not found the child. Her unwelcome news of the Congress was something he would have to think about, but if she had found the human…

…and there it was - a laugh! A child’s giggle echoing through the trees. Curses! He looked up - Panthala’s long lazy circle round the forest had been interrupted, and he saw he turn, hover, and curiously peer down through the trees, and then she froze and almost fell out of the sky, disbelieving, and Ezakalis could see her process the impossibility of what she was seeing. Then he saw her make a murderous decision, and divebomb out of the sky in a blue-grey streak of fury.

But just as she reached the child and her jaws were about to close over is chubby body, a streak, a green-black one this time, launched into her side and the two dragons tumbled into the trees with no hint of playfulness or humour like before. Instead as they rolled Panthala screamed and shrieked and hissed in rage and frustration while Ezakalis bit hard on her neck to prevent her from lashing out at the child.

But Panthala was not done. She twisted her neck and raked her front claws against his cheek, and Ezakalis roared in pain and Panthala took the opportunity to break free of his mouth and turn herself towards the child, ready to unleash fiery death.

‘No!’ Cried Ezakalis, and as Panthala breathed out he raised his great claw and knocked her head to one side, her breath shooting out into the trees above instead of roasting the child alive.

Panthala shook her head trying to recover from the blow. Ezakalis positioned himself between her and the child and waited, alert, as the trees burned and crackled and Panthala recovered her breath.

Panthala took a few moments to steady herself, turned to Ezakalis and growled a low threatening growl, and he answered hers with one of his own, full of as much violence and threat as hers was.

After a long while of her staring at him with her cold anger, eventually Panthala spoke.

‘Would you care to explain what in the name of the old gods that,’ and she pointed at the child with her smoking nuzzle, ‘is doing here?’

‘It’s a child, Panthala.’

‘I know that. It’s a human.’

‘Yes.’

‘Deep in your territory.’

‘Yes.’

‘You know the Law, better than anyone. You did help write it after all.’

‘Yes, I know the Law.’

The two dragons sat and stared at each other, the weight of history heavy on their thoughts. Eventually Ezakalis stirred.

‘I want you to swear to me,’ he said, ‘on our sacred Congress, on our long and unbroken chain of law…and on the memory of your mother,’ and when he said this Panthala immediately grew agitated and angry, ‘that you will not harm the child.’

Panthala stomped the ground, then furiously tore great clumps of earth up with her sharp claws and threw it against the trees, and when this didn’t move Ezakalis she reared her head up and shrieked into the sky all the while beating a gale with her sparkling wings. Ezakalis thought that despite her anger, or maybe because of it, she was a very beautiful blue.

‘You dare ask this of me?! You dare to even utter such words?! Under the Great Treaty and under both the law of our Congress and the human’s law of Nations that thing is sentenced to death. No appeal, no mercy. This that was all agreed for the good of all, dragon and human alike, and you of all people ask me to break it!’

Here Panthala’s rage got a hold of her, and she let out another huge roar that shook the trees.

‘You ask me to break our most sacred law, the law of Congress, that has been an unbroken code over how we live our lives for over seven thousand years, for the sake of the life…of a human.’

‘I do,’ said Ezakalis. ‘Look at it Panthala. Look at it,’ and despite her revulsion and her hate Panthala forced down her desire to rip it to shreds and brought herself to stare at the child.

‘I can’t kill something that is so innocent and has yet to learn to hate. It has no fear of us. It has never known dragons, it does not seek to destroy or kill us. It is just life and potential. The fact that it doesn’t fear us by instinct tells me that maybe our people are not destined to be enemies.’

He sighed, then turned to Panthala and stared straight in her eyes, ‘How can we think of ourselves as better than humans, as higher and more enlightened beings, if we take the life of something so free?”

‘You talk of potential, but as far as I can see it is only potential for our death, ‘ replied Panthala, ‘You cannot change the nature of a thing. That child may be innocent now, but in ten, fifteen years it will be older, it will carry the adamantine spears and ebon-blade swords that caused such pain for our kind. It will hunt us for who we are, kill us, then take our skulls as trophies. Or have you forgotten? Have you forgotten what they did to Marishta…?’

Ezakalis leapt at her and pinned her to the ground, saliva dripping from his great mouth and rage in his eyes.

‘I have not forgotten!’ He hissed, ‘ I remember it every day.’

Panthala could smell the fury seeping off him, and she kept very still. Despite his outward demean of control and calmness, Ezakalis still had a fire within him.

‘You are right. I am sorry,’ she said, ‘I should not have mentioned her name. I apologise. It’s just…’and here she turned her head to the child, ‘the presence of that thing has surprised me, and made me forget myself.’

Ezakalis took a moment to regain control, then slinked away from her and sat down defiantly again between her and the child.

‘It is not inevitable. ‘ He said. ‘Their hate is not inevitable.’

‘No, but it is likely. Better to be safe than sorry is it not? After all what is one more human life? There are so many of them anyway.’

‘Every life is precious. We either believe that or we believe nothing. ‘

Panthala signed in frustration. She sat in thought for a moment, then stood and in one huge display of frustration swung her tail against one of the burning trees. She turned away from Ezakalis, showing her back to him, but when she turned back again she her wry playful smile had come back.

‘Very well Ezakalis. You and I have played many games in our lives, what harm can one more be? I will not kill this human child. Instead I will see where this latest adventure of yours takes us.’

‘Swear it Panthala.’ Said Ezakalis.

‘Really,’ she sighed, ‘ you need me to swear to you?’

‘Swear it on the Congress, on our law, and on the memory of your mother,’ he said starring straight into her eyes.

Panthala held his gaze. ‘I swear on the Congress, on the line of our sacred ancient law, on the General Will of all our flocks, and on the memory of my dearest mother who gave my life so that I might fly and know the heavens, that I will not harm the human child in any way,’ and after she had said this took her right claw and scratched her right forearm, drawing blood, and let it drip on the ground.

And with the oath done all the tension left Panthala’s body, and she wandered around Ezakalis to the where the child was playing, and despite her oath it took a great deal of control from the green-black serpent not to stop her.

‘It is a curious thing,’ she said, looking down at the child as it splashed about near the pool, ‘that something so small and frail could one day grow to be a thing of such malice and evil.’

‘The humans say the same thing about us.’ Ezakalis said, still watching her intently.

‘Exactly. Two races that both think the other is evil. Surely only one can win out in the end…?’ As she said this she dipped one of her boney claws into the water and flicked it up at the child as it played.

‘Panthala!’

‘Oh relax! The thing likes it – look!’ The child did seem to like being splashed with water, as it let out a gurgle of joy as Panthala dipped her claw back in the water and splashed it again, and Ezakalis marveled at how naturally she took to looking after a child, even if it was a human and not a dragon hatchling.

‘So what now?’ Panthala asked, still playing with the child. ‘Now that we have decided to break our most serious laws and not kill this young thing, no matter how annoying it is, what is your plan?’

‘Oh well…’ and Ezakalis trailed off. Despite being a very well thought-of Dragon he was known to sometimes get ahead of himself.

‘Oh Ezakalis,’ said Panthala, with the tone a mother might use, ‘have you even worked out how it got here?’

‘I only just found it!’ he protested weakly.

‘Well it couldn’t have come alone’ Panthala said matter of factly. ‘It’s far too young, and if it didn’t come alone that means that older humans were here, humans that knew the law…’ and here she gave Ezakalis a hungry smile, ‘and I will swear no oath not to taste the blood of those who are old enough to know the consequences of their decisions! You circle above and see if you can spot anything, and I’ll look for tracks.’

Ezakalis wordlessly obeyed.

Panthala found the tracks quickly. The ground was mossy and wet this time of year, and the humans had made no effort to hide their progress - almost as if they had wanted them to be found.

Panthala said she could pick up the scent of three humans other than the child and that the party had come from the North-West, from the small human settlement that lay on the edge of Ezaklis’s territory. After a brief discussion both dragons decided that even though there might be danger, they had to go and investigate, and if possible return the child whence it came.

So the two dragons set off as the autumn sun had just past its zenith, Ezakalis carrying the gurgling child in his gentle grip of his hind claws and making sure not to fly too high so it didn’t get too cold, and they landed near the village just as dusk was beginning to settle.

Ezakalis had wanted to approach the village on his own, but Panthala demurred, reasoning that one dragon creeping around a human village was bad enough so two wouldn’t make much difference, and Ezakalis had to agree.

The two moved through the trees slowly, making sure the child was always with them - which wasn’t hard as the little thing had become quite attached to Ezakalis - and as they drew closer they came over a small rise, and came face-to-face with a woodcutter.

There are fewer things in life as terrifying as a dragon, and considering the human had run into not one but two of them, Ezakalis thought he handled himself very well.

The dragons were very still, making sure to make no threatening gesture, but just as Ezakalis saw the human’s body language shift from fear and flight to thinking he may survive this, Panthala growled from behind him.

The woodcutter instinctively reached for his axe but Ezakalis snapped at Panthala, warning her off. The man hesitated with his hand on the hilt of the axe. Ezakalis could see him thinking, calculating. He was clearly an intelligent human, and his age suggested he would have been of fighting age during the wars which meant he must have known how hopelessly outmatched he was.

The man looked between the two dragons, and then Ezakalis saw the man’s eyes dart to just behind him on his left, and Ezakalis turned and saw the child, playing quite happily by his hind legs.

Ezakalis sat down on the ground, very unthreateningly, and began to speak to the human in High Elven, slowly and with difficulty, in the way that dragons do.

‘We have found a human child.’

The human looked as though he didn’t understand anything the dragon had said, and though Ezakalis’s High Elvish was rusty, he didn’t think it was that bad. Despite fearing the man had no Elven whatsoever, Ezakalis tried again.

‘We found it in my territory, which means the Great Treaty has been broken.’

At the Elven word for Treaty (‘Vertraee’) the man started - clearly the Elvish word held as much resonance for humans as it had for Dragons.

The woodcutter stood and thought for a long time, then eventually, he slowly and very deliberately took his axe off of his back and laid it gently on the ground, then backed away from the two dragons and went back down the rise towards the village.

Panthala was not happy at letting the man go so easily, swishing her tail in annoyance, but Ezakalis paid her no attention. He hoped that the human had understood something of what he was trying to say. He hoped he hadn’t gone to raise the alarm, and break out the adamantine spears and unsheathe the ebon-blade swords, and above all he hoped that they hadn’t started a war here today. He hoped.

They waited for a long time, the two dragons and the child, until eventually while he was lost in thought Panthala beat her wings ever so slightly, and as Ezakalis turned to her she pointed down the hill. The woodcutter was returning, and he was not alone.

A very old human was with him. She was walking very slowly and with great difficulty and using an old wooden staff, and every now and then the woodcutter would go to help her but every time she would defiantly and angrily shoo him away.

As she got closer she stopped for a second and looked up, and appeared to ask the man a question. He pointed towards the two dragons and the old woman had another look, and almost fell over in surprise.

She stood still for a long time looking up at Ezakalis and Panthala, then eventually she continued her long climb towards them, and as she got close she walked right up to within ten feet of Ezakalis, and sat down on a little log to catch her breath.

Panthala was upset that the woman had come so close to them and shown no fear, but as she couldn’t do anything about it she simply snorted, turned away and sat a little distance back, maintaining what in her mind was an appropriate distance between her and the old human. The woodcutter dutifully stood right behind the woman, guarding her, but didn’t seem at all happy about having to be so close the fearsome dragon that was Ezakalis, the green-black death.

The green-black death looked on, wandering what was going to happen next.

The old human took a long time to catch her breath, then eventually after she seemed to compose herself a little she breathed in deeply and let out a long sigh, and then she spoke:

‘Dragon.’ she said, in perfect High Elvish, ‘Dragon,’ she said again, and her voice had the tenor of old oak and the song of dusk birds in it, ‘you have broken the Great Treaty.’

Ezakalis didn’t quite know what to say to this, and he stared back at back at the old woman and tried to figure out what this human could be thinking, but she gave nothing away, and simply sat there waiting impassively.

Eventually, after thinking for a long time, Ezakalis replied.

‘Yes.’

‘Under the laws of both Dragon and Man, your life is forfeit.’

‘Yes.’

‘And I have every right to take it with no consequence, and should show no mercy, lest others be encouraged by your example.’

‘You do.’ There was a hint, just a hint, of a smile on the old woman’s lips.

The little group then sat for a while in silence. Panthala curiously watching this old woman who sat so comfortably in front of the great Ezakalis, the killer of princes, the Law writer, while the woodcutter shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot.

The silence was broken by the child letting out a giggle from behind Ezakalis, and running out to play with some leaves blowing in the wind, and as the old woman saw the child for the first time she stood up, open mouthed. Ezakalis thought she must have been told about the child by the woodcutter, but it was still another thing to see a human child play next to a dragon so freely.

‘I found it in my territory.’ Said Ezakalis, watching the child play. ‘Myself and my…’, and here he hesitated, ‘companion, discovered tracks leading in this direction, and we thought to return it.’

The old woman was breathing quite heavily now, and so sat back down to catch her breath. The woodcutter came to help her and handed her his canister which she drank from gratefully.

‘Why did you not kill her? You had every right.’

Her. It was a girl.

‘How can any of us call ourselves children of the gods if we take the life of something so innocent? How can we hope to live better lives if we kill something so lacking in hate because of old laws?’ He thought for a while. ‘It is so easy to kill, and so much harder to live. And besides there is an old Elvish saying that says whenever the old take the life of the young it is always a crime.’

‘The love of the old for the young is pure thing. We see in them nothing but potential, and the possibility of living a better life than we had. They invariably disappoint us,’ the woman said this smiling, ‘but the important thing is that they have the opportunity to make their own decisions, and live their own lives.’

The dragon turned back to look at the little girl.

‘You look at her as a parent would a child,’ Ezakalis started when she said this, ‘and that is a pure love, an old love. It gives me hope to think that a dragon can look on a human child the way you look at her.’

She sighed. ‘I will take the child now. Miranda!’ Upon hearing her name, the child looked up, saw the old woman, and ran towards her smiling and laughing, and the old woman gave her a big hug.

‘There is much talk on our side and the inequalities of the Treaty, how too much land was given to the dragons, how they are a dying race and nothing to be afraid of, and how a short war will restore the honour of humanity and teach the dragons a lesson.’

The old woman hugged the child back, then stood up and leaned on her stick.

‘This child is the daughter of a politician who argues for peace. She was most likely taken to your territory, Ezakalis, and yes Law writer I know the name of the Dragon who borders my village, by someone in the hope that you kill her and provide a cause for conflict.’

Ezakalis looked at her in wonder. He didn’t think he had ever heard his name spoken by a dragon.

‘Luckily they didn’t know your true character.’

‘What happens now?’ Asked the dragon.

‘Nothing - nothing has happened. It is impossible that this child was ever in your territory as you would have killed her, and it is impossible that two dragons crossed the border into human lands, as otherwise Ebon-Blades would have sheared their skin and adamantine spears would have pierced their hearts.’

‘And since nothing has happened, no action need be taken, except to hope that those who work against violence never rest, lest the world be driven to madness once again. Good bye.’

The little party of humans started down the hill, but the old woman stopped and turned around and said as a final farewell,

‘Even though you were never here, I am glad to have met you. May the blessing of the old gods be with you and all your kind, now and forever.’

For a long time the Dragons sat, contemplating what had happened, when from nowhere Ezakalis turned to Panthala and spoke more earnestly than he ever had in his long life.

‘Panthala. Please accept my apologies for making you wait so long. I am sorry, I am so sorry for our wasted years. I was hurt and damaged and I couldn’t face the fear of loss again, and because of this I kept you waiting.’

‘But if you will have me now, I will be yours forever. I will honour and serve you, and love you till the end of our days, and will be a good father to your hatchlings, for I want what I saw here, I want the old love of a parent to a child and to pass on our love to the next generation, for I love you more than the feeling of the wind beneath my wings.’

Panthala shook herself, quite shocked at this outburst by the normally reserved dragon.

She thought for a long moment, until eventually Ezakalis could stand her silence no longer.

‘What do you say, Panthala? Will you take me? Will you take me as I give myself to you?!’

Panthala turned, and began to stalk away from the human village, back into Ezakalis’s territory.

‘Panthala!’ Ezakalis called after her trying to keep his voice low.

The terrible azure-grey dragon turned her mighty head, a playful smile dancing on her draconic lips.

‘I’ll think about it.’

FIN

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