The Journey of the Slave Dragon – Chapter 3

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Chapter 3
Belief in Creatures Real and Unreal

As the eldest woman of the rocky lands, Lady Sophia possessed the longest and most enduring love that was ever known. She was the one woman in all the land who would never turn to the sea flower for succor. Her heart was ever pure and strong. She walked on many dusk-lit days and watched her people spinning silk with looms of undying redwood. With the end of every walk she arrived at the overgrown forest and met the mist knight who was always waiting.

Lady Sophia believed in 3 things. These were: kindness, love and dragons. Three things that were little understood by the land of men. Because of this truth keeping, Hannah often thought her sister a fool. Hannah thought the belief in dragons was dangerous and as absurd as children that loved the marble carvings of unicorns.

It was known throughout all 10 kingdoms that dragons do not exist. These are fictional creatures. Some thought dragons were made up as a god to worship in times of fear. Others thought dragons were a fearful omen that haunted dreams and gave children night terrors. A few untrustworthy sailors, who’d spent too many nights out late on the stormy seas, spoke of dragons as an ancient creature that once existed but could never roam the earth because mankind would only fear and destroy them.

Dragons cannot be loved. They are not male or female. They are fictional. They are creatures without a destiny. Dragons do not exist. They do not procreate and make more dragons. They are without gender, without hope and without purpose. They do not belong in this world.

Yet, here I was. And I loved. I loved without subject and without requiting. I loved without reason and without expectation. My love was as real as the smoke that burned in my lungs. It poured out my nostrils to only destroy. A fire for ending nations.

There were two good beasts that lived upon the Blueberry Eye Sea. These beasts were real. The Fishman and the Eelwife. The Fishman was a large strong creature with an upper body that was of mankind and a lower half that was of the ocean. On his back was a fin that protruded from his spine. Instead of legs he was part shark. He was a dangerous and fatherly being that swam the sea, protected the land and could send water and rain to famined crops.

The Eelwife swam beside the Fishman. She was formed with a human head, a torso and 8 long eel-like appendages. She moved in a similar way as an octopus. This octopus had flowing red hair that was an unnatural color. When she rested in the shallows, crabs could hide in that crimson, watery mane unseen. The Eelwife possessed a power that made her great and loved by the people. Her breath held undetectable fish eggs that with a single exhale would produce that spark that lit a new human life into existence.

Men loved and hated the Fishman and Eelwife. Water was a necessity that enabled survival. Childbirth was the key to the future and each cherished dream of wedded partnerships throughout the land. Often the Fishman and Eelwife lived in harmony, traveling the sea that was their home. They would spend days or decades resting on the Puddle Islands, sitting in awe of the sky’s reflection or feeling the peaceful rocking of the tide.

But then, storms would bellow through their home and the Fishman would hoard the rain and never let a single drop near the lands with wilting crops. The Eelwife once held her breath and left a lost village barren for nearly a century.

She could not be trusted.

At the depths of the Catalina Sea was a rare plant. It was a sea flower with petals like bright and iridescent chrysanthemum. It was a good growth upon the earth. It’s petals were long and moved with the tides. The milk in the veins of the plant could be used to heal a broken heart. But for the balm to work, one had to dive down, down to the darkest part of the sea and tear at the petals. If you tore off a full petal, the spell was broken. The healing would not work. You could only tear a bit of these floral leaves and touch the milk right then.

It was not an easy thing to extract the milk. As you held the petals in your hand, some things would happen. First, the tide would start to press against you. The pressure would make breathing difficult. You would feels as though the water on all sides of you was going to extinguish your existence. Then, as your hands touched the fragile flesh of the flower, the entire plant would shriek at you in terror. You will not want to break the flower. It is as if you are breaking the hearts of a thousand hopeful brides. But it was the only way to find succor for the stabbing pain of heartbreak.

I did not know if the flower would work for me. Could there possibly be a balm strong enough to heal dragons? Could a dragon swim underwater without being drowned by the weight of unruly wings and a large stomach?

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