Dragon-born
Flash fiction for the 30 DAYS OF FANTASY WRITING CHALLENGE
Prompt 6 of the 30 DAYS OF FANTASY WRITING CHALLENGE:
Seven Dragons Are Arguing Over Who Has to Babysit the Volcano
The Karstlec Mountains were ancient, their very rocks steeped in old magic. Strange things happened in this harsh borderland between Svelgard and the steppe. People went missing and, if they returned, they were not the same. The land shifted, but not because it was shaken by earthquakes. Things that were there one day were simply somewhere else the next. Rivers changed course, or flowed in the opposite direction, and landmarks never looked the same under a different moon.
The Karstlec passes were dangerous places to traverse. Some led safely through the mountains, at least some of the time. At other times, they led back to your childhood, to caves under the sea, or to nowhere at all.
Yet, people still lived in the Karstlec Mountains, in villages few and far between. The residents were born to that wild country of storms and hardship, ravines and stories that came alive, and they were acclimatised to the air which hummed with magic.
In this land of jagged mountains, there was one which towered over all others: Innesgharst Peak.
Known locally as The Tooth, the highest mountain in the Karstlec range had a caldera at the summit. Inside it bubbled not molten rock, but liquid unreality. If it were to erupt, it would cause a rift in time and space that would likely tear the world to pieces. It was kept in check by a magical membrane that had to be constantly fed with raw power. The name of the one who had originally constructed the membrane was lost to history, but powerful enchantresses had sustained it for thousands of years, and continued to do so. They were known as the Dragons, and there were always seven, each the seventh daughter of a dryad and a mage.
Maintaining the membrane was exhausting. It was a huge and intricate working, and required a constant stream of power. Dragons worked in pairs, with one in reserve, while the others rested. They came from across the Four Kingdoms, sought out and recruited as young teenagers. They began their vigil at the age of 21, after rigorous training, and died in service.
An enchantress’s lifespan is bound up in her magic. Those who are abstemious with their power can live to a great age, but due to the great energy expenditure required to hold the membrane in place, few Dragons survived into their thirties. They aged quickly, their bodies failing long before their time.
Esti, for instance, was 26. After five years in service, the signs were already beginning to show. She sat now, off duty, her legs outstretched, contemplating the spider-veins that snaked their way across her smooth skin. With her tongue, she poked a loose molar. She wasn't ready for this.
Suddenly, from up above, there came a cry for help. Lyra. She was on duty with Maya, and Priya for backup. What had gone wrong? In all her years on The Tooth, no one had ever called for help before.
Esti sprang to her feet, rousing the other three off-duty Dragons who were sleeping in the caves they called home. Then, she pelted up the slope.
At the rim of the caldera, she was confronted by an unexpected sight: Lyra and Maya feeding the membrane, and Priya building an extra protective layer over the top of it.
“What's happening?” she demanded, taking up a place opposite Priya.
“There's something on the other side! It's trying to get through!”
Esti stared. Sure enough, the centre of the silver membrane was bulging as if something was pushing against it from below.
“Help me build this,” Priya called to her. “It could be our last line of defence if the membrane doesn't hold.”
What Priya was saying was unthinkable: the membrane had to hold—it had always held. Nonetheless, Esti planted her feet, feeling the shape of Priya’s working. Then, she began weaving an extension of it on her own side of the caldera, pouring in power, muttering defence charms and spells of strength and endurance.
“The membrane's getting weaker! We can't hold it!” shrieked Maya.
“We have to!” Lyra yelled back.
The remaining three Dragons appeared.
“Feed power into the membrane!” Lyra instructed them. “As much as you can!”
They tried, but it was growing visibly thinner.
“It isn't working!” shouted Maya in desperation. “That thing is too strong!”
“Hit it with everything you've got!”
“But we'll kill ourselves!”
“Esti!” It was Priya this time, screaming at the top of her lungs. “Esti! Hold up your working! Don't let it go!”
Esti couldn't speak. Below her, her working was crumbling, chunks of shimmering light tumbling into the open mouth of the caldera. She couldn't hold on—it was dragging out more than magic from inside her. Blood was running from her nose and eyes. The metallic taste of it was on her tongue. Her bones became brittle and she screamed as they fractured inside her. This was not magic of her doing. This was the land, the Karstlec Mountains themselves, taking control. Esti felt the ancient power within her—it tasted of earth and granite and the deep, unending darkness before the stars shone. The mountains were emptying her out, and pouring their own power into her, using her as a shield.
Her body writhed and she fell onto all fours. The pain was unbearable as her skin split, revealing scales beneath. She reared up on her back legs and a gout of fire shot from her mouth.
Esti spread her wings.
She bent her back legs, then launched herself skyward. Soaring in a tight circle, she saw her sister-Dragons below at intervals around the rim, arms outstretched, trying to make the membrane strong. She saw, too, what was trying to break through into their world.
Esti had been born the seventh daughter of a dryad and a mage. Her mother had never kept her destiny a secret, and Esti had grown up knowing her fate was to serve as a Dragon. She couldn't remember a time when she didn't know that her life would end up here, on The Tooth.
That's why she hardly hesitated before diving into the caldera.
As she passed through the silver haze of the membrane, for a moment everything was white light, cool and silent, and then she was through. Her talons seized the shadowy apparition on the other side, and together they fell through space and time, out of her world, and into his.
Thank you for reading! Read the other side of the story in Unstable Magick.
Or, if you fancy another dragon story, check out Harvesters, a short story about conscience, conviction and dragons.
Wow! More!
Oh please tell me this is the beginning. Please?