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Posted: Fri Sep 29, 2006 9:27 am
Light. Bright light. Where is that coming from? Why is it flickering? Eyes. Must open my eyes to see. Carefully now, must take it slowly. Why? Why can't I just open them quickly?
The thoughts race in his mind as he begins regaining conciousness and coming back to life within the world. Laying beneath a canopy of trees on a warm summer afternoon, he finds himself flat on his back gazing skywards at the warm sun as it filters through the trees. His long sinewy body glistens with some sort of liquid, what he cannot remember. In fact, there is little that he can remember as he struggles to wake. With a heaving groan, he rights himself and his tail whips into a young tree, taking it down by mistake as he stumbles forwards. Laying back down on his front, he shudders as he tries to recall what happened to him. Why is he here? Where is here? Flickering his eyes open again, he notices that the sun has dipped in the sky. This means that much time has passed since he first woke, he has to find shelter before dark. Why though? Why does he need to find shelter?
All the questions that roam in his mind confuse him so he decides to quiet them for a moment and concentrates on stilling the voice within. He manages to quiet his mind and lumbers to his feet, his silvery blue scales glittering in the fading light. Sniffing the air, he scents the source of water close by and pads across, taking care not to knock any more trees. Dipping his head to the water, he blinks as he takes not of his form. Two great crests swell from his head and form bony points as more bony lumps line his spine. Around his dark brown eyes are raised bony lumps that frame his gentle looking orbs. His nose has large whiskery appendages that snake skywards and end in thin points.
Pulling his head down, he takes note of his appearance and blinks as a memory comes to him. Taking time to sift through the memory, he comes to the conclusion that he is in fact a dragon. He is of a race called Dragons. That explains it then.
No longer worried, he dips his head to the rapid moving stream water and laps up the cool clear freshwater. More images come flashing to his mind as he partakes of the liquid. Instantly he knows where this stream comes from, it originates in the high reaches. He can see the exact point where the spring bubbles up from the ground and spills out over the cracks and crevices, growing steadily in size and volume as it is fed by small tributaries on its way down. He watches the stream as if he himself were the water, cascading down the rockface and plunging back into the depths of the earth to finally surface in a mass of greenery. To the left and the right of him are more streams all yearning to join and merge as they make their way down to the sea. Finally he reaches the point where he is drinking and the images fade from his mind. The feeling of being that rushing, flowing water sticks closely in his mind. His long tufted ears are perked and he seems excited by this memory. Was it a memory though? Or was it..?
Sighing deeply, he draws himself away from the stream and glances out over the precipce he stands on. Grassy plains lay low beneath him and small round shapes are dotted here and there. Ants are coming and going from inside them. Wait, how does he know they are ants? Humans. He remembers the word but not what it means to him. Something inside him stirs and he feels afraid of the word. Shaking himself again, he stretches and yawns before turning and walking, or rather lumbering slowly along the plateau he finds himself. Glancing skywards, he has a sudden sharp image of pain and darkness and a dull throbbing occurs in his skull. Staring up for a long period of time, he sighs as nothing else comes to him. A cave. He knows he needs to find a cave to rest in. That much is instinct for him at the very least.
Lumbering along until darkness is only moments away, he finally stumbles upon a cave in the rock beside him. Peering his head inside, he scents the stale air and finds that this has been abandoned for a long long time. Perfect. Without second thought, he lumbers inside and flops down on the sandy floor. Shifting to get comfortable, he closes his eyes and is soon asleep.
Light floods his vision for a moment and a cool liquid touches his skin. At once he feels at home as he turns his head to find a large nose nuzzling against him. Mother. He knows her instantly though he has never seen her before. Instinct is instilled within him and he knows. Feeling safe and at home, he reaches up to her and is almost within reach when his world swirls and he is sucked back from her by an unknown force. Darkness ensues and when he tries to move his limbs, he finds they are bound. Pain criss-crosses his flesh and he bellows, at least thats what he tries to do but no sound comes from his mouth. He is trapped in the endless darkness and torment, unable to defend himself.
Jerking awake, he smashes his head on the cave roof and grumbles deeply as he backs out of the cave. Blinking as the moonlight flickers down on him, he breathes deeply and feels calmer. Noticing the faint pinkish beginnings of dawn on the horizion, he decides to stay awake and explore a little more. He knows he has something to do, but he cannot remember what that something is. He can't seem to remember much lately and that makes him very afraid. Knowing that he is lost and alone also frightens him but he feels he shouldn't need to be afraid. Nevertheless, he lumbers on through the small copse of trees he awoke in and sniffs the coppery tang of blood in the air. His blood. The dull throbbing ache comes back to his head and he realises he is hurt, but what can he do about it? These giant scaly feet aren't delicate enough to administer treatment and he couldn't reach his head when he tried. Help. He must find help. As he lumbers through the forest, he allows himself to drift into his thoughts again.
What has happened to me? Why does my head hurt? So many things that I can't remember, should I be afraid of that. Should I seek out this Human I remember? Hrm, I'm hungry. No, don't want to eat that, or that, or that. Not that. What -do- I want. Ah yes, this will do nicely thank you.
Dipping his head into the lake, he snares a fish with his sharp teeth and swallows it down. Grabbing another and another, he soon satiates his hunger and pulls his head back out of the water as he licks his lips. The pain in his head is gone now but he has a feeling it will be back all too soon. Pausing to scratch a moment, he takes a large breath of of the fresh mountain air and looks out over his surroundings. To the North of him stretch a huge range of snowcapped mountains that span the horizon as far as he can see. They make up the same mountains that are behind him too, like a large semi circle protecting the lands below. Looking down from the precipice, he notices more of the huts and the people and animals milling around. Glancing to the West, he notices a lush forest way into the distance and glittering streams line the plains before him. As he stands there watching them, a plan formulates in his head.
Lumbering down the sheer slope, he looses his footing and begins to tumble slowly down the slope. Eventually he looses conciousness and slumps on the ground. He doesn't know how far he has tumbled nor for how long, but he knows that before darkness reigns in, his body aches.
Eventually conciousness returns and he finds himself in a dark wilderness, the sparkling lights of the distant huts coming into his blurred vision. Glancing around, he finds it is nightime and the stars are sparkling in a cloudless sky. The moon is at its zenith and full, bright white that lights up the plains as if it were day time. Groaning as he struggles to his feet, his serpatine body winding out behind him and glittering in the moonlight. Making his way slowly towards the village, he observes the panic stricken sheep that flee from his form and he wonders why. He can't ever remember hurting anyone, so why would they be afraid. Not long after the sheep flee, he hears screams and shouts and suddenly a sharp pain explodes on his leg. Someone has thrown a rock at him, a large one at that. Instinct tells him to run and run he does. His silvery body wends its way speedily away from the villagers and the huts. Soon he has outrun them but fear lends flight to his legs and he does not stop running until dawn breaks on him.
Making his rest beside a fast flowing stream, he closes his eyes and lays down to sleep. -Funny- he thinks before sleep takes him -I feel safe here-
Suddenly he is woken by the feeling of soft warmth pressing against him. Panic floods him for a moment and his large eyes open, blinking through long eyelashes to see a young girl staring at him. She has her hands on her knees and is bending forwards to look at him, tapping his eye which makes him wince and grunt. She backs away and smiles warmly at him, her bright blue eyes contrasting with her golden sandy hair as it hangs loosely around her rounded face. Walking forwards, she hugs his neck and fixes a pendant around it before vanishing in a shower of petals.
Shooting awake, he blinks his eyes and finds that once again night has come. This time however, the moon is hidden behind a barrage of clouds and he cannot be seen. As he rises, he thinks about the girl and brings his claw up to scratch but finds a hand touching his face. His own. Staring in wonder at this new part of him, he touches his face and finds that where there was once scales, is now warm flesh. Frowning to himself, he rubs his head and immediately winces at the lump he finds. Bringing his hand down, he finds a choker is around his neck. Suddenly he remembers the girl again. She wasn't a dream, she was real. Looking down at himself, he realises he is clothed. But he doesn't remember how. The clothes are worn and baggy and don't seem to properly fit him so he figures they must have been a gift. But from who.
Sighing softly, he wanders out on barefeet beneath the moonless sky and tries to collect his thoughts. He is a dragon, but now he is not quite so sure what he is. As he walks, he slips into his thoughts which gives him a distant look on his face.
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Posted: Fri Sep 29, 2006 12:01 pm
Many days have passed since he woke as a dragon and experienced that rush as the water fed into his mouth. His feet are tired but somehow he knows where he is going and that it won't be much further. Very few people has he seen since leaving that first village. It would seem to the young dragon that this place is virtually uninhabited. He knows that the direction he wants is North but he can't remember how he knows this. Something waits for him there but what?
Laying down after a long day of walking, he drifts into the thoughtful stage between sleep and wakefulness and begins to slip into a memory.
'You are it's guardian youngling. This is a big responsibility for you to undertake.'
"But I want to go to school and study with the humans. I want to explore the world."
'All in good time my young one, this is the first step in long journey. In a hundred years time you will be ready to enter the school as our representitive.'
The young dragon sighs and slumps his shoulders as he replies
"Alright grandfather, I'll do this for you"
The image fades and he shoots awake as he clutches wildly at the air.
No! Come back! Guardian of what?! What School?
Sighing as the image fades entirely, he slumps against the willow tree and dangles his feet in the cool water. Closing his eyes, he projects his mind out across the water and enjoys the thrill of feeling the rush he gets by doing this.
There! There is that building again. That is the one I must reach. I don't know why or how I am to get there. Syutaka. Why is that name important to me? What is it? Must focus or I am going to lose myself again.
He spends a few more minutes travelling the rapids and staring at the building before he retracts back into his mind and sighs softly. Rubbing his temples, he leans back against the tree and falls into a dazed sleep. Dreams plague him but upon waking, he finds he can't remember them. Again it is night when he wakes and he decides that a few more hours walking will bring him closer to his goal, so he does. Walking at a slow, steady pace with a small branch he found and made into a thumb stick for aiding his walking. Grasping the choker around his neck, he runs his thumb over the details again and feels the resonanting energies tingle across his flesh.
Magic? Is that what this is? Or is it a dream. Am I in an endless dream? Am I dead? No no I can't be dead. I would know if I was, surely?
The thoughts continue to jumble around in his mind as he wanders endlessly through the wilderness. Ahead of him is a darkly forbidding sight, a large forest. Somehow he knows that he has to walk through the forest but he doesn't know why. He knows he will be safe there but again he has no idea why or how he knows this. It is just something he knows and feels safe. Standing on the edge of the forest, he swallows and hopes that his instincts are right.
Moonlight filters through the trees and the clouds lift slightly as he crosses the threshold of the forest. Instantly he feels the age of the place and is overwhelmed by senses. Whisperings whip past his ears like snatches of conversations grasped by the wind. The trees are ancient and gnarled, stretching higher than he can actually see. They groan and sway slightly as if they are sentient beings, and give off the feeling of impending doom. He knows he has no other way but to go through this dark and forboding place and decides to show no fear. Amazingly as he walks, the branches move out of his way and as he looks behind him, they close tightly back in again. He has the feeling that while he is here, nothing will hurt him. He is protected here and soon enough he can hear tiny whispers on the warming breeze.
'Welcome child of the water.'
'Welcome child of the high reaches, of water and ice. Welcome welcome'
'Welcome aged one, none shall harm thee here.'
He is surprised but takes it as a comfort that he will not be harmed here while he makes his passage through. This place may be accepting him, but he doesn't wish to outstay his welcome. Nor does he want the welcome to turn sour. Not daring to sleep for fear of being lost in the encroaching brambles, he stumbles ever onwards. Night turns to day and the birds begin to sing but deep within the heart of the forest, he barely hears them. In fact he is hardly aware if it is day or night. The gloomy interior of the forest allows for little light to penetrate the canopy. Where there is light, the undergrowth has risen so high that it blocks any possibility of light entering the forest floor. He walks on, not wanting to spend a moment longer in the forest than he needs to.
Three days pass before he clears the forest, his mind reeling from the experience. Stumbling down the slope leading away from the forest, he kneels in front of the stream at the bottom and plunges his head in. Drinking his fill, he brings his head out of the water and looks over at the surrounding area. He is nearly there! He can see the building in the distance and knows that is where he must be. That is where he has to go and it is now within sight.
His mind at ease, he rolls over and begins to drift into a deep dreamless sleep, his first in three days. How long he sleeps is unknown to him but he feels miles better when he wakes. Except for that dull throbbing in his head. It never goes away. Onwards he trudges, continuously and endlessly searching for something.
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