The Clearing

“Up, Jondar! Upppp!” Cylla commanded, drawing out the syllable in a whiny pout. As she did, she outstretched her chubby arms to her brother, fingers wiggling.

“No.” Jondar scolded. “You’re no longer a babe. You must walk.”

Cylla stopped and crossed her arms. Large tears pooled in her eyes but did not spill over.

“Come, Cylla!” Jondar called from a few paces ahead. “It’s nearly dark and mother will be worried.”

They had been out gathering berries, a chore Jondar had done numerous times. But today, Cylla had begged to go and their mother had been too busy with the twins to refuse her. Unfortuneately, it was nearly supper, and they weren’t even out of the forest yet. Jondar swore under his breath as he realized he would have to carry Cylla.

Resigned to his fate, Jondar turned back to his sister. He took one step and froze as his mind grappled with the vision before him. Cylla, his stubborn little sister, was sitting at the feet of a green giant.

Jondar had only seen a dragon once prior. A few years back, he and his father had been practicing sword skills at dusk when they spotted a bright light in the distant sky. His father had stopped him immediately and sent him inside to douse the fire. Jondar did as instructed, before being sent back out by his mother with instruction to aid his father with the livestock. He had barely crossed the threshold when his father grabbed him and pulled him to the ground, with hushed demands to stay quiet and not move. The order had come in such a panicked whisper that Jondar had been too stunned to do anything but follow his father’s upturned gaze.

A moment later a large shadowy figure had passed overheard. The creature was larger than any animal Jondar had ever seen. Its outstretched wings were larger than his home, yet it moved almost silently through the night air. Then all at once, a large puff of fire shot from its horned mouth, briefly lighting both the creature and the night before its embers dissipated in the cool night air without a spark even reaching the ground. When the next puff emerged, the creature had been beyond the clearing and nearing the forest.

Later, Jondar’s father had told him the creature was a dragon, probably the last of its kind. For weeks afterward, Jondar had harassed his parents and even a neighbor or two with questions about the fiery beasts, but there really wasn’t much that was known. They mostly appeared in the evenings, could fly long distances, and could spew flames twice the length of their body. Normally, this list of attributes would have worried Jondar, but he had also learned that their sighting had been the first in years. It appeared dragons were also recluses, and many believed only a few remain in existence. Jondar, too, had believed this to be the case since, in all his eleven years, he had only seen one, at least until today.

The dragon that gazed intently down at Cylla as she played near its feet, was not the same dragon that Jondar had seen as a young boy. That dragon had rough dark green skin that resembled rock more than an animal, but this dragon was a blueish green with iridescent scaley skin that reminded Jondar of a fish. Also, unlike the other dragon, this one didn’t have spikey horns of varying sizes that adorned his triangular face and upper neck. Instead, this dragon had just one small horn on the tip of its snout and two longer horns at its crown.

“Jondar?” Cylla asked as she looked up and seemed to notice him for the first time.

He wasn’t sure if it was her voice or movement that startled the dragon, but it stiffened and leveled its yellow eyes on him. Steam slowly started to waft from its enlarged nostrils. Then, it opened his mouth and …

“Jondar!”

Jondar sat up, eyes wide. He was still too disoriented to speak, but his eyes started to focus.

“The dragon?” Dallen asked and Jondar nodded.

He had the dream countless times over the last twelve years, but never with such frequency. He was anxious to start the day. They were getting close. He could feel it.

“Did you see anything? Remember anything new that may help us?” Dallen asked.

Jondar shook his head.

“You’re the Dragonslayer.” Sir Gwen said to Dallen. “Do you not already know all there is to know about dragons?”

Dallen narrowed his eyes at Sir Gwen. They may be cousins, but if they did not find that blasted dragon soon, he would not be accountable for his actions.

“Do not call him that.” Jondar said finding his voice. “You know he does not like it.”

The corner of Sir Gwen’s lip turned up in bemusement.

“That is why I do it.” Sir Gwen said.

“I am no slayer of dragons, as you well know.” Dallen addressed his cousin. “I have slain but one dragon and that was in defense of my life.”

“Precisely.” Sir Gwen agreed. “But as I, nor Jondar, have slain any…”

“Quiet!” Jondar whispered loudly and raised a hand to silence the others.

Conversation ceased and all listened intently. They had been tracking the dragon for nearly four months now and never had been so close. It was late summer, and dragons went into hibernation in early autumn. If they did not find it soon, they would have to delay until after winter, and Jondar didn’t know if he could take another winter. He had already waited too long and his thirst for vengeance was consuming him. Since meeting Dallen and Sir Gwen, he had thought of little else.

“What did you hear?” Sir Gwen asked.

“I’m not sure.” Jondar said. “It sounded like a rustling. Perhaps it was a deer.”

“Probably,” Dallen said. “Dragons are known for their stealth. They are large creatures, but amazingly agile.”

“I don’t know.” Sir Gwen said. “We’ve been tracking him for some time. He is nearby, I am certain.”

“I agree.” Jondar said. “The Weir child’s sighting was a day’s journey East and the track we found was two days West.”

As he spoke, Jondar drew a circle on a large stump with a charred stick from the fire. He marked an X to the East and West as he addressed them.

“To the South is the river with Ravensdale beyond.” Jondar looked up from his drawing and his eyes met Dallen’s before he continued. “You said dragons avoid large populations…”

Dallen nodded in confirmation and Jondar continued, returning to his makeshift drawing.

“So that eliminates the South. And to the North is the clearing and then my family’s estate. The dragon must be somewhere in between these boundaries. There were no other sightings. We must be near.”

“I agree.” Sir Gwen asked. “Dallen?”

Dallen looked from one to the other, then back at the drawing.

“The terrain is suitable for a dragon.” Dallen said. Then he took the stick from Jondar’s hand and put the tip in the ashes from last night’s fire. He went back to the stump. “Dragons like wooded areas. It gives them cover and provides them with a variety of small animals to hunt.

“The forest is dense here.” Dallen marked within Jondar’s boundaries. “And here. Dragons are not good swimmers. The water weighs down their wings and I have heard of more than one drowning.”

“I have heard that, too.” Jondar said. “I believe the dragon at Bowman’s Point died that way, but I thought he had fallen into Lake Morlock after being injured by the Point Guard.”

“It was before our lifetimes, but our grandfather used to tell us stories of the dragon’s defeat at Bowman’s Point.” Sir Gwen said before turning his attention to Dallen. “Do you remember when his friend visited?”

Dallen nodded. He and Sir Gwen were cousins, but both had spent much of their youth boarded with their grandfather.

“Sir Seamus of Oakhurst.” Dallen said. “He was legendary. It was he who first taught me of dragons. He summered with us two years prior to Grandfather’s death. I spent many hours listening to his tales.”

“Not much of a legend if I could not recall his name prior to your reminder.” Sir Gwen said before adding, “I don’t remember his tales either.”

“You did not hear them.” Dallen said. “You were too enamored with his youngest daughter, Lady Algora. You followed her like a pet.”

Jondar laughed, but Sir Gwen just smirked.

“I would wager ‘twas I that received the more valuable education that summer.” Sir Gwen teased.

“Perhaps, but will it help us defeat this dragon?” Dallen challenged. When Sir Gwen opened his mouth as if to counter, Dallen cut him off. “Do not answer that question. We haven’t the time.

“Sir Seamus had been a dragon hunter in his day.” Dallen continued. “He said dragons are less adventurous than they seem. They rarely travel unless looking for a mate and when they find a mate, it is for life.”

“You’re not saying there is a family of dragons in these woods?” Jondar asked.

“It doesn’t seem so. There have only been a few sightings in the last decade, and all seem to describe the same dragon. I know you said you saw a different dragon in your youth, but by all accounts, that appears to have been the last time he was seen. No, I think the dragon we seek is solitary.”

“I still don’t understand how this helps us find it?” Sir Gwen asked.

“As I was saying, dragons may not swim, but they do need access to fresh water. They prefer lakes because there is less risk of being swept in, but the nearby river is a large one with inlets that are shallow and slow moving.”

“They would want a cave as well.” Jondar added. “The Caliper Mountains are less than a half-day hike. We are in their foothills now.”

“You were raised near here, have you never explored any nearby caves?” Sir Gwen asked Jondar.

“No, children in these parts are often permitted to explore the fields and forest but are cautioned about entering caves. Even when Cylla was…” Jondar paused before rephrasing, “went missing, the search parties refused to explore the caves. Since they found no remains, my father refused to give up hope. He and his best men did go into a few caves, but they stopped when the weather changed.”

“It was around this time of year?” Sir Gwen asked.

“Yes,” Jondar said. “It will be twelve years next week. Cylla was only a month shy of her fourth birthday. She would have been sixteen next month. I can’t believe I have waited so long to avenge her.”

“Jondar, your family searched for the dragon for two years after. Then you were sent to train with your uncle and have been at war ever since. Do not chide yourself so. There was nothing you could have done. Not that day and not since. You have come at the first opportunity.”

Jondar knew Dallen spoke the truth, but it did little to soothe his conscience.

Suddenly in the distance, there was a horrible moan and rustling in the brush. It was loud and unnatural. Jondar had never heard any animal make such an uproar. His mind barely had time to process the thought before Dallen stood before him sword drawn.

“Get your weapon and gather your pack.” Sir Gwen whispered to Jondar as he busied himself gathering his and Dallen’s belongings.

Jondar did as he was told as Dallen quietly took a few steps in the direction of the noise. His sword was brandished in his right hand as his left accepted the proffered pack from Sir Gwen.

Dallen paused but did not turn back. His attention was fixated on the woods in front of them, but he waited until he heard their steps at his rear.

“Take care.” He whispered.

Jondar had drawn his sword as well and Sir Gwen had his bow at the ready. Both were slightly behind and to either side of Dallen and the three started forward in unison. They had not rehearsed their formation, but none was needed. All three were seasoned warriors having fought in many battles over the last decade.

The three wandered for some time in silence. Then they heard a faint whimper. They slowed their pace and as they neared, they heard a strange, gentle murmur. Was someone singing? Jondar looked askance at Sir Gwen. However, he could tell by the perplexed look on the other’s face, that Sir Gwen also was having difficulty identifying the curious sound. Still, they continued forward, the noise of their footfall barely audible to their own ears.

They made it a few more paces before the humming stopped. They stopped as well since the forest was now eerily silent. There was someone, or something, just a few steps beyond but camouflaged in the foliage before them. Had it heard them, is that way the noise had stopped? Or was there another reason?

Dallen strained his eyes to peer through the brush. It was still early, but they were deep in the forest now and the sun’s rays were twisted by the tree cover above making the forest into a muddled canvas of light and shadow.

The murmur started again, but the voice was more distinct now, even if the words were unintelligible. Someone was singing. A woman. A woman was singing. Dallen shook his head as if to clear his thoughts, but the sound persisted. The voice was low but soothing and definitely female.

“Cylla?”

Dallen heard Jondar’s confused question, only moments before Jondar moved ahead of him.

“Jondar, no!” Dallen called and reached for his companion, but it was too late. Jondar was already charging into the brush, giving Dallen and Sir Gwen no option but to follow.

“Cylla?” Jondar asked again, but this time his voice was so low Dallen barely heard it as he came to stand beside him.

They had pushed through the shrubbery and were now standing in a small clearing only a short distance from the mountain base. Before them was a young woman with a long stone-tipped spear at the ready. Next to her was a partially skinned deer carcass with a hand-made slate knife laying atop it.

“Easy,” Dallen said gently. “We mean you no harm.”

“I’m not sure she understands you.” Sir Gwen whispered. “She seems feral.”

Jondar lowered his sword, but still did not speak. He appeared frozen. Dallen had seen men in combat with a similar expression after taking a hard blow to the head. Dallen looked from Jondar to the woman. Jondar appeared unable to process the scene before them, but her eyes appeared keen, her gaze darting from one to another. She was skittish and her evident fear concerned Dallen. Their eyes met and held. Then, she did something he wasn’t expecting. She whistled. It was a long, drawn-out sound that increased in volume before finally culminating in an abrupt end.

“Be on your guard.” Sir Gwen warned.

“Jondar!” Dallen called, “You need to regain your senses.”

The woman snapped to attention and her spear wavered.

“What is that?” Sir Gwen asked as the mountain seemed to groan.

Dallen spanned the base of the mountain trying to pinpoint the spot from where the sound arose. There was a movement in his periphery and his head swiveled right. He studied the rocky surface for a moment, before finally settling on a large shadowy section. Very subtly, the shadows shifted, and an enormous, sea-green dragon slowly sauntered from the shadows.

“Dragon!” Dallen hissed. “On your right.”

Jondar seemed to snap to attention, his sword returning to ready stance. His gut tightened as he watched the dragon approach. As it neared, he recognized it from his youth. The moment he had been anticipating had finally arrived and he was surprised that he was overcome with awe more so than fear. He could not tear his eyes from the beast as its scaley skin shimmered as the sunlight.

“My God,” Sir Gwen asked reverently. “Is it bejeweled?”

“It is a trick of the light.” Dalen said. “Do not be distracted. Remember it is most vulnerable at its underbelly and its eyes.”

“What is that?” Sir Gwen asked as steam began to waft from the beast’s flared nostrils.

“It is only a matter of moments before it begins to spit fire.” Dallen told his friends. “Cousin, go left.”

Sir Gwen immediately started side-stepping left as Dallen went right.

“Jondar!” Dallen shouted. “Get the lady to safety.”

The severity of Dallen’s words spurred Jondar forward, but like those of his companions, his pace was cautious.

“Jondar?” She asked.

“Yes, Cylla.” Jondar cooed. “‘Tis I.”

“No.” She shook her head in disbelief.

“Is it really you, Cylla?” Jondar asked as his voice cracked. “How could this be?”

She did not answer. Dallen wasn’t even sure she understood the question. She just stared at Jondar transfixed.

“Careful, Jondar. The beast nears.” Dallen warned.

Jondar paused. He was only a few steps from Cylla now, but he could see the dragon coming up behind her.

“Come to Cylla.” Jondar beckoned, arms outstretched.

Cylla hesitated and Jondar took another step. As he did the dragon groaned a warning and Cylla turned. She raised a hand and the monster calmed.

“It’s Jondar.” She told the dragon. “My Jondar, he’s back.”

Her voice was childlike, but her tone was soothing. However, the beast did not appear soothed. In response, it released a small burst of smoke.

“Bad DeeDee!” Cylla scolded.

The dragon closed its mouth and hung its head. Dallen had never witnessed the like. Did it understand her? Was that even possible?

Cylla turned back to Jondar.

“Come, Jondar.” She ordered.

Jondar reluctantly stepped forward, sword still raised.

“No sword.” Cylla said.

She lowered her spear and smiled. Jondar followed suit and lowered his sword. The others remained still.

“DeeDee will be good. She’s a good girl.” Cylla said.

The dragon raised its head in acknowledgment.

“I don’t understand.” Jondar said. “Where have you been? Have you been with this… with Dee… with DeeDee all this time? How is such a thing even possible? Where do you live?”

Cylla smiled at his barrage of questions but did not answer. Instead, she turned back to the dragon.

“Come, DeeDee.” Cylla waved the beast forward and to the men’s amazement, the dragon obeyed. “Come meet Jondar and his friends.”

“Go.” Dallen said softly. Jondar hadn’t noticed Dallen move, but he must have since he now stood beside Jondar, nudging him forward.

“Have you ever heard the like?” Jondar asked.

“In Galilee, I once heard a minstrel that sang of a friendship between a boy and a dragon. I’ll admit, I did not believe it possible.” Dallen said. “But there is no other explanation. They are clearly bonded.”

Jondar nodded in agreement. Dallen’s words were true. The animal clearly seemed protective of his sister. More than that, she seemed to understand and even obey her. He was near overcome with emotion as a final realization struck him. His sister, his Cylla, whom he had thought to never see again, now stood before him. The sister he had mourned for so many years. She was alive. She was no longer the girl he remembered, but it was her. It was Cylla and she was now a woman fully grown.

“DeeDee!” Cylla laughed, her joy infectious. She turned to the dragon whose nose now nuzzled her back. Cylla threw her arms around the beast and kissed her snout. Then she turned back to Jondar.

Without releasing the dragon, Cylla reached out to Jondar with her free hand. Jondar smiled and took her proffered hand.

“DeeDee, this is Jondar.” Cylla told the dragon. She placed Jondar’s hand before the dragon’s snout and held it still as the dragon inhaled his scent.

“Good day, DeeDee.” Jondar said.

“I am so happy.” Cylla beamed as she looked from one to the other.

“As am I.” Jondar agreed a bemused expression on his face. “I never imagined a day where I would befriend a dragon.”

“I have,” Cylla said, eyes sparkling. "I have many times."

As she gave both another squeeze, Jondar said a silent prayer of thanks. He had hoped this quest would assuage his thirst for vengeance. He had hoped killing the dragon would allow him to finally let go of the hatred that had fueled him for so long, but he never imagined he would relinquish that hatred so easily. However, as he looked at the creature cradled in his sister's arms, his heart was so full of love, there was no room for anything else.