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From: sauron@shell.portal.com (Ronald Allan Stanions)
Subject: Story: Companion
Date: Wed, 9 Feb 1994 13:45:57 GMT
Lines: 242
Ok, I hope this one gets out there. I have no clue what the distribution
is going to end up being here, since none of the posts I've put have reached
any of the other 'well connected' machines I call, but apparently my posts
ARE making it out into net-land somewhere!
Here's my first trial post, and probably out of the stories I've written,
the one I spent the most time on. I wrote this one about six or eight
years ago, and re-tuned it a little for general distribution. Hope you
all like it!
Companion
by Ron Stanions
sauron@dweyr.wisdom.bubble.org
A flash, or was it? He peered hard into the sky, above the distant
mountain range. No, it must have been his imagination. He walked on,
headed towards that very mountain, where a pass between the mountain
would allow him to cross through to the valley on the other side,
where he would once again be with his tribe. He marched on, his sword
clinking lightly in it's sheath at his side. It would be dark before
long, and he could make it to the mountain before then if he pressed
on. There he would find shelter, to protect him from the many
creatures that plagued these areas at night.
He was a warrior, trained well in the arts of combat, but, so
unlike his people, he hunted alone, spending more and more of his days
away from the confines of his tribe. He knew their feelings, he
sensed their anger at his ways, and he waited for the day that they
must surely declare him an outcast, for he never followed the rituals
of his people, and oft-times studied things they would deem
sacriligeous to their gods. The gods seemed to favor him though, for
they never failed him when he called upon their vast powers. Indeed,
they seemed to approve of his unruly ways.
There! Another flash! This time there was no mistaking it,
something was happening over the mountain, or was it beyond? In his
own village perhaps? He increased his pace to a mild jog. The
mountain was about another hour away if he kept this pace, and he knew
better than to tax his strength out here on the open plain. He kept
this pace easily, not tiring himself, until he reached the base of the
mountains. It was almost full dark now, and he needed to find a place
to sleep and be sheltered from the creatures that hunted in the night.
There was no sense in pressing onward through the mountain now. It
would take another half day's journey to make it through to the other
side.
At the entrance to the pass, the mountain rose sharply on both
sides, offering no gentle slopes to climb to get off the travelled
path and rest for the night. The walls were not so steep as to be
unclimbable, but still required a good deal of effort and time.
He climbed the rocky walls with the ease of someone who had done
this sort of thing many times, until he was a distance of about fifty
feet above the ground. After a few minutes of searching, he found a
small dugout that would suit him nicely for the night. The rock face
beneath him was not so steep here, but would still be more than enough
to prevent any animals from climbing up to attack him, and above him
the rock face became much steeper, making it that much more difficult
for anything to approach from above. He had little need to worry
about bandits here, this path was used very rarely, and almost
exclusively by his own people.
His position offered him a view in the general direction where he
thought he had seen the flashes, but no further flashes appeared in
the night sky, so he settled down to a cold meal, not wishing to try
to light a fire which might attract attention from unwanted visitors.
Besides, he thought with mild mirth, it was too far back down to the
bottom to look for wood. After eating, he wrapped his supplies and
settled in for a few hours sleep, planning to be on the move again
well before sunup.
Hardly more than a few minutes had passed before he heard a trickle
of rocks skitter down the slope not very far away. He listened for a
long time for sounds of motion, but there was only silence.
He pondered the idea of this being an avalanche area, but quickly
put that thought out of his mind. A few stray rocks now and then,
that's all. But... strange, it almost seemed too quiet. Occasionally
he heard a bird whistle far in the distance. No sounds emanated from
any point nearby. He remained motionless, listening, straining his
eyes to peer through the darkness.
Suddenly, a much larger rush of rocks plummeted down the hillside,
directly over the hollow where he lay, causing him to press himself up
against the back to stay out of the stream of dirt and rocks that
careened on down the mountain right in front of him. When they
subsided, he picked up his gear, and secured his sword and equipment
to his back, making sure all was well braced against noise. Then,
cautiously, he moved out of the hollow and began to climb even higher,
slowly, silently, towards the source of this disturbance.
The going was slow, and he climbed for what seemed like hours,
until he reached what appeared to be a large outcropping of rock, but
as he moved closer, his eyes exposed the huge form of a dragon, lying
on the ground. He stopped in his tracks, staring hard at the
creature, not daring to move lest it spotted him. His mind whirring
with thoughts. He suddenly cought the odor of the sragon, which
contrary to his beliefs, was not at all pungent or distasteful. There
was another smell mingled with the dragon's though, one he was all too
well familiar with, the smell of blood.
He inched closer to the creature, stopping and dropping flat to the
ground as it moved in a spasmodic twitch, sending another shower of
rocks down the hillside. Well, that explains that! He thought to
himself. He moved until he was barely ten feet from the dragon, and
he could now see the wounds that scored it's body. Yes, this would
explain the flashes he had seen, as he noticed the scorch marks on the
dragon's wings. Apparently, this dragon and another had gotten into a
disagreement over something, and this one lost.
It became obvious the dragon was unconscious, or it would have
noticed his approach long before now. A gentle breeze was blowing his
scent straight at the dragon. Stupid, he thought. I should know
better. Keeping an eye out for signs of movement, he made his way
cautiously up to the dragon and began probing the wounds, gaining
confidence as he worked, and he felt sure the dragon had been harmed
too severely, and would not live on it's own without attention.
His first impulse was to try to help it, but then common sense
began to work it's way into his thoughts. "Leave it alone", he
muttered under his breath. "Leave now, and you just might live. This
isn't any ordinary woodland creature. Your own tribe would be aghast
at the thought of what your contemplating." And that last thought was
enough to ensure his actions. He cared not at all what his tribe thought
of what he did.
With his brows drawn down in determination, he began to unpack his
things, gathering his medicinal herbs and spell components. He built
a fire on a small patch of level ground, for up here, close to the
top, there was some forestation. He settled down to a long night of
mixing potions and weaving spells, working himself raw, and harder
than he had ever worked before. By morning, he had patched up most of
the wounds, and he could do no more without rest. He lay down against
the dragon's hide, to rest a short time, for the dragon's hide was
warm against the chill of the night.
He awoke later that day, surprized at how long he slept, and angry
at himself for doing so. There was much work yet to do, and he must
be on his way before the dragon awoke, else he may prove to be the
first meal this creature would enjoy! He spent most of that day
finishing the task of binding and cleansing the dragon's wounds,
periodically checking the dragon's eyes and breathing rhythm to be
sure it was not ready to awaken.
In due course, night approached, and still he didn't leave. Some
time ago he felt sure that the dragon's constitution would carry him
through from this point, and that he need not stay around any longer.
He knew he was taking a great risk staying here. When the creature
awoke, it would probably not be strong enough to move much, much less
attack and devour him, but it was foolish to take chances. He had
done all that was necessary, and yet still he stayed, checking and
rechecking the bandages.
Again, he awoke to the sun overhead, further cursing himself
out for a fool. He didn't remember at what time he fell asleep, but
guessed he had been sleeping for quite a few hours. It was nearly
noon. He hadn't realized he had worn himself out so much. Now more than
ever it was time to leave. He hastily collected his belongings and
put them back in his pack, and was about to go back for one final quick
look at the bandages on the dragon, when he noticed the dragon was staring
straight at him.
Too shocked to move, he just stood there, staring back into those
swirling orbs, rivited by their hypnotic effect. He felt an odd
sensation, and realized the dragon was somehow probing his mind. Odd,
he thought, he felt no fear of the great beast, and he sensed no
malice coming from it either. It didn't take him long to realise the
dragon must be feeding this feeling into him.
Suddenly, the dragon's voice entered into his mind. It was a deep,
commanding voice, yet it held the qualities of intelligence and
thoughtfulness. *Why have you healed me?* asked the voice. It echoed
through his mind, much like the sound of talking in a deep cavern.
His mind began to reply to the dragon, even though he had made no
conscious effort to do so, and he knew he could not restrain his
thoughts even if he had wanted to. *It has always been my nature to
help the injured creatures I encounter, and when I discovered you
wounded here, I could do aught else but to try to heal you, even
though I knew that I was risking my life, to save yours.*
The dragon continued to hold his gaze on him, giving off no hint of
emotion. He did not know how long the contact lasted, or what thoughts
the dragon had taken from his mind, but he was suddenly aware that the
dragon was no longer looking at him. He shook his head sharply to
clear it. The dragon was staring up into the sky, apparently lost in
thought. He knew now, that the dragon would not harm him, so he
picked up his gear and fitted it about himself, preparing to leave.
When he was done, he moved in front of the dragon. "I am leaving
now, you should heal quickly from this point on, without my aid." He
did not know why he bothered to tell this to the dragon, but he felt
he could not simply leave without some last word. He stared at the
dragon, hoping for a reply, but the dragon continued to look upwards,
scanning the horizon and ignoring him. At length, he turned away, and
began to move towards the edge and climb back down, when the dragon
suddenly turned to look at him.
"Where will you go?" It asked aloud with the same deep voice he
heard in his mind, the sudden loudness of the voice startled him, and
he turned back towards the dragon, somewhat startled by the question.
"To my village." He replied simply. The dragon looked at him for a
moment longer and then turned away once more to scan the horizon.
With a shrug, the warrior turned and prepared once more to descend,
when again, the dragon spoke.
"Stay." It said, without turning to face him. It was not a
command, but a request. He detected a note of longing in the dragon's
voice. A longing that told of ages of loneliness. He turned towards
the dragon once more, and moved closer.
"Why?" he asked. "I mean, why would you want the company of someone
like me?"
The dragon still stared away into the sky. "I have known many
things in my life. I have fought many battles, and I have known much
pain. I have seen many lands, and crossed many continents", the
dragon said, a note of wistfullness in it's voice. A moment of
silence passed,and then suddenly, the dragon turned it's head towards
him. "But I have never known friendship. You are the first who has
ever shown me compassion. The first who has ever given me any aid. I
owe you my very life." it said to him. Then, the dragon released a
heavy sigh. "I would like to call you friend." It said with what
seemed to be great difficulty.
He looked up towards the dragon, barely believing what he had just
heard. Dragon's were not known for their friendliness! Yet, here he
was, standing face-to-face with a dragon. He stood quietly, looking
deep into the dragon's eyes, and, sensing a growing bond he felt with
this creature, he began to smile. He was sure now, that he would
never finish that journey back to his tribe.
--
Ron Stanions -- sysop: > >\-/< < sauron@dweyr.wisdom.bubble.org
The Dragon's Weyr BBS /\ < \ / > /\ stanionr@iia.org
201-992-0834 300-9600bd < \__/\_/\__/ > DragonSoft Development