In the Eyes of a Dragon

Fish and Conversations

    “So how is your wing?” asked Katari. She had just finished undressing the bandages that covered the tears in Opashi's wing. Able to move it freely at last, he carefully stretched it far above her head before giving it a couple of practice flaps.

    “Well, that is much better,” he told Katari, “And the tears are all gone, so that's good,” he told her.

    She nodded vigorously, “Yes, that's excellent. Are you going to try and fly with it now?”

    “No,” he shook his head, “Not right away, I will probably exercise it a little first'” he said after a little bit of thought. “I haven't flown on it in over a month, and I will need to be careful at first.”

    She nodded in understanding. He had spent that whole month with them in the village, although at nightfall he kindly slept outside the village grounds so that his snoring did not awaken anybody. He especially liked to sleep in the fruit orchards. He had told her several times that there was nothing like the orchards back at his home, until finally one day she asked where he hailed from.

    “My family lives on top of the Eye of the Gods,” he had told her, pointing with his snout to the north. Everybody knew that the Eye of the Gods was the largest mountain in the world, but not many had ever seen it. Although you could see it from the northernmost areas of the various continents, the Plains of Light was too far south to see them.

    That had been when she had realized that he had flown from the Eye of the Gods all the way to her humble little home without resting. “It's no wonder you fell asleep,” she had said, incredulously. “It's a wonder you didn't kill yourself,” she had exclaimed with a merry laugh.

    Despite him being younger than his other siblings that had gotten sent on this trip, he was still much older and wiser than she was, yet he found her carefree attitude refreshing. And she, for her part, had become very fond of the large orange beast. At first, she thought that he would be a very proud, and perhaps, arrogant creature, for she had always envisioned dragons to be that way. But as it turned out, he had a bit of a mischievous nature like herself.

    He was humble enough that he didn't mind letting her climb on top of his neck to reach the fruits high up in the orchard trees. Nor did he mine letting her take naps underneath the shade of his wings. He had laughed along with her when she had startled a family of mice by altering the light to look like a burrow dragon was swooping down upon them. He had even pulled a stunt himself when he had plunked a teenage boy that had been trying to push Katari around on top of the nearest roof in annoyance.

    Opashi yawned and stretched, resembling a huge cat, his hind end sticking up in the air, his wings stretched out to either side, and his front claws digging into the dirt. Katari stared in fascination at the massive teeth he was displaying as he yawned. Each one was as long, if not longer, than her forearm, and ended in a wicked point. He caught her looking at him and asked, "What is it?"

    "I was just wondering how long it would take a dragon of your size to eat me?" she told him brazenly.

    He laughed, and his mouth took on a toothy grin. "It would take about two bites, you're so small. But we are empathic eaters."

    "Empathic?"

    "We understand that to be eaten would hurt so we kindly eat the part that registers pain first," he informed her.

    She thought about it for a second. "So you eat the head first."

    Opashi nodded his large head. "Yes, exactly."

    "Huh," she responded. "Well that's good, at least. I'm sure there are many creatures that are not empathic eaters."

    He flapped his wings again to exercise them, and then began to wander off.

    "Where are you going?" she asked him.

    "To the river, I'm hungry and I'm craving fish," he told her. "I've seen some of the ones in the river, they're fairly sizeable and I think they will do."

    She jogged along side him. She never presumed she could catch a ride just because he had given her one once before. But to her pleasure, he turned his long neck in her direction and scooped her up with his head, allowing her to slide down his neck onto his shoulders. "It's a long way," he explained to her.

She chose a spot in between two of his dorsal spikes and clung to his shoulders as he strode along the way. A dragon was not built like a horse, so riding one was not an easy, nor smooth, task. It was bouncy and uneven, and she had found out the hard way that unless she moved with the dragon's gait, she would be very sore when she got off.

    Moving at Opashi's speed, they soon found themselves at the river with the sun beaming down from above. To Katari's dismay, the orange dragon continued u to the river without stopping.

    "Wait! Wait!" she cried. Opashi froze misstep and looked back at her, his eyes inquisitive. She hopped to her feet and using his dorsal spikes to stabilize herself, she moved along his spine, between his wings and then slid down his tail to the land underneath it.

    "I don't know how to swim," she explained to him and his eyes widened slightly.

    "Oh," he said, "I wasn't aware."

    "My people are fearful of the dark and rivers are definitely dark," she told him. "Plus, bodies of water are rare in the Plains so most of the Mareva never even have the opportunity to learn."

    He nodded in understanding and then turned around, continuing into the water. In seconds he had vanished, leaving the merest trace of a ripple upon the water's surface. She sat down to wait, but it wasn't long before he made an appearance.

    With a flurry of waves, his huge head thrust out of the water with a huge splash, followed by the rest of his enormous body.  He had ahold of the largest fish she had ever seen. It stuck out on either side of his mouth, wriggling furiously.

    Opashi gave a great toss of his head and the fish flew up into the air. It came back down in a silver flash and with a chomp of his toothy jaws, the fish disappeared. He dove back into the river for more fish, disappearing without a sound.

    Katari stared in wide-eyed amazement at the scene before her. Her dragon friend was truly incredible. That fish had easily been as big as she was. She suddenly felt very grateful that Opashi didn't regard her as dinner.

    After a half hour of fishing, Opashi must have finally filled himself up because he came wading out of the water towards her. "Are there any fish left?" she asked him with a grin, her eyes twinkling.

    "There's a few," he replied with a toothy dragon grin.

    She fell into step beside him as they made their way back towards the village. "I have to leave soon," he told her suddenly.

    "What do you mean, leave?" she asked him.

    "You didn't think that after all these years of never seeing a dragon, that I just happened to crash land in your midst so I could live among you in the village, did you?" he asked her.

    "Well, no, I guess not. But you never talked about why you were HERE exactly," she said with a wave of her hands to encompass the area. "I figured you must have some sort of dragon-y agenda, I just didn't know what it was."

    "My father sent out five of his children to help the Qirians in the coming future. I was one of those," he explained. "His visions showed him things to come, and he saw the five of us working together to help save the world."

    "Save it from what?" she asked, anxiously.

    "From the Xartmiran," he responded, in a whisper.

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    Ianfa stood, with her pack on her back, looking out over the awe-inspiring Twin Seas of the Ilyanfo peoples. She was standing precisely where she had been in her dreams, and the feeling of deja vu made her head reel. Everything looked exactly as it had in her dream.

    She could see the people working in the White Sea and the boats skimming the salt off the surface of the water with their nets. In the distance she could make out the flocks of gray birds floating on the waves in the Grey Sea. And there, ahead of her, was the direction she had traveled in her vision and so she strode forward, across the strip of land separating the two seas, and into Fyrsima just as the sun began to set over the trees.

    That night she slept in a small village near the easternmost tip of the Grey Sea. A kind old woman had recognized her as being "On Her Tordufen" and offered her a piece of floor to sleep upon. She curled up in her sleeping bag and thought about the next leg of her journey. From here she needed to travel across Fyrsima, over the Islands of Falm and into the country of Iritam.

    She was slightly apprehensive about Iritam. She had heard that it was a country covered in thick jungles, teeming with savage creatures and covered in huge, rushing rivers. The inhabitants, a race of Qirians known as Zabetheli, were a tan-skinned people with bright-bluish eyes that thrived in their jungle environment. They could be just as fierce as the creatures that roamed the forests, and living on a continent surrounded by oceans, they also made naturally adept sailors.

    As eager as she was to get to Iritam, she was nervous about traveling across the country. She had no idea what the roads and traveling conditions were like and was uneasy at the thought of crossing one of the predator's paths. She knew her magic was strong, but had never had to use it to protect herself from real danger.

    At last, sleep overcame her and she drifted away into her dreams, which were mercifully normal and serene. The next morning she thanked her hostess, for her hospitality, shouldered her heavy pack and departed. She traveled through Fyrsima, which was a large country, covered in a diverse landscape and littered with cities. It took her a week to cross it, and the further she traveled the colder the climate got. At last she stood on the shores where the Tyvala and the Napthalu Oceans met. In front of her, the Islands of Falm stretched north and east, towards Iritam.

    She was bundled up in every warm article of clothing she had with her, a scarf wrapped around her face as the cold northern wind chilled the sunny day. The wind was wreaking havoc on the ocean's surface and huge waves were crashing against the rocky cliffs that stretched away to the north. Several boats and one huge merchant ship were sailing on the channels through the islands, and their pennants flapped furiously in the icy wind.

    She turned and made her way back into the port town of Joufeli. She was in the search for some hot food to warm her up. As she walked through the streets, all sorts of odors assailed her nose. Her stomach grumbled hungrily, just as an enticing smell crossed her path. She paused in her tracks and took a deep breath.

    Whatever it was, it smelled amazing, and she slowly followed her nose towards the source of the smell. As she got closer, she realized she must have entered the food market area, for delectable smells kept permeating from every doorway.

    The sun had disappeared from the streets and all the shops had lit lanterns outside their doors, casting a cheery glow upon the street. Finally she appeared in front of a large tavern, and the appetizing smell was surrounding her. Licking her lips hungrily, she walked inside.

    The first thing that hit her was the noise - a cacophony of conversation, laughter, music and the clatter of dishes all assailed her eardrums. In the corner by the large stone fireplace was a group of musicians playing a frolicking tune on violin, drum and whistle. Nearby, was a round table with a group of Qirians playing some sort of card game. Opposite the door was the bar counter, and behind it was the kitchen. Several employees of the tavern, wearing aprons, were cooking or placing food on plates, while the bartender was filling up large ceramic mugs with foaming ale. Throughout the room, smiling waitresses were handing out platters of food to the customers. The rest of the room was filled with long tables, with customers seated on benches, eating and talking uproariously.

The second thing that hit her was the overwhelming smell that she had been following. She didn't know what it was, exactly, but her mouth was watering and her stomach let out another loud growl.

A young serving lady walked by right when her stomach growled, and paused, looking at her. She smiled self-consciously, and the waitress grinned good-naturedly. “Sounds like you've come to the right place,” she told Ianfa.

    “What is that smell?” Ianfa asked her. “I followed it all the way here from the docks,” she informed her.

    The waitress laughed, “That would be Folomyr's famous diamond whale roast.”

    “Diamond whale?!” exclaimed Ianfa. “But I didn't think that diamond whales could be killed. I thought their hides were too tough?” she asked the woman, who shook her head.

    “Nope. They can be killed, it's just very very difficult. You have to use diamond-tipped harpoons, which only the Jhume can make,” the waitress informed her. “But their meat is so rarely eaten that no one recognizes the smell it gives off when it is cooked.”

    Ianfa could agree with that statement, seeing as how she had never smelled anything that delectable in her whole life. “I want a slice of that,” she told the lady, who nodded with a smile.

    “Make yourself comfortable,” she told Ianfa, before walking away towards the counters.

    Ianfa set her pack down at the end of a table that was mostly empty, except for four patrons at the other end, and then sat down herself. She had lived so long in the heartland of Farsili, surrounded by other Ilyanfo, that she was awestruck by the sight of other races. She stared discreetly at a Rieky, a large male eagle-type, who was devouring a leg of some sort of roasted meat with gusto. The man's large brown-feathered wings, were tucked neatly behind him but the tips were dragging on the floor in the dust.

    Next to him was another Rieky, this one a waterbird of some sort, with brown, glossy feathers and a thin ring of small green feathers around his neck. He had a narrow duckbill, and was eating from a platter of greens and cooked fish. His wings were a bit shorter than the other man's and crossed across the tips.

    Across from them was a PirPir woman. Ianfa recognized her by her light blue skin, and white-blonde hair that swept upwards in a short crest. Despite the cold weather, she was dressed in very little but a dark blue, sleeveless tunic edged in short white fur, knee-length breeches of some sort of tan leather, and some short, brown leather shoes.

    Next to the woman was an Iasel man. A short-statured race that spent a good amount of their lives underground, mining for ore, this one had shaggy coppery-brown hair, and a scruffy beard.  The Iasel were rumored to be able to see in the dark and Ianfa noticed that the man had very alert eyes, which were currently focused on the waterbird Rieky, who was regaling the group with a story as they all ate. He noticed Ianfa watching them, and his gaze shifted to her. “Whatcha watching that's so incheresting?” he asked her around a mouthful of food.

    The conversation died and Ianfa shifted uncomfortably as their eyes all settled on her. “I'm sorry if I was being rude,” she began, “I've just never seen any of your races before.”

    The eagle-man shrugged. “No matter,” he told her. “You must be on your Tordufen, aye?” he asked.

    Ianfa nodded. “Yes, and my vision directed me across the Islands of Falm to Iritam.”

    “Fantastic!” said the PirPir woman excitedly. “We are headed that way ourselves,” she told Ianfa. “Leaving on the first ferry in the morning.” The rest of her group nodded in affirmation.

    “Yes, I am as well. I have never been on a boat, and I'm kinda nervous,” Ianfa said with a frown.

    “I was worried too, the first time I sailed, but your kind make excellent ferry's captains,” assured the Iasel. “With the magical powers your race has, calming the ocean is a simple matter.” He slid toward her on the bench and extended his hand. “Sylto, the blacksmith,” he introduced, “Currently residing here in Fyrsima, but my friends and I are traveling through Iritam to Choisine to trade with the Jhume.”

    Ianfa shook his hand solemnly, before another hand was being thrust at her by the PirPir. “Lishana,” the blue-skinned woman offered. Ianfa shook hands with the two avian people as well. She learned that the duckbilled Qirian was a merganser-type Rieky named Plotur, and the other was a golden eagle Rieky named Skrima.

    According to what they told her, Lishana was a jeweler, who partnered with Sylto from time to time on certain pieces of metalwork. Plotur and Skrima were journeying to Choisine to join one of the tribes of Rieky who traveled along the coasts following the diamond whales. They had met Lishana and Sylto at the tavern and decided to all travel together.

    “You should come with us,” Lishana invited. “At least, until your dreams tell you otherwise.”

    Her friends agreed. “It would be advantageous to have an Ilyanfo on the journey anyways,” said Plotur. “Especially if we come across any herds of hukolm.”

    “Hukolm?” Ianfa asked, having never heard of such a creature.

    “Imagine something the size of a large horse, with a short neck, covered in jagged spikes along it's back, two curved and immensely sharp horns, razor-sharp hooves, and a temper like a Tsuthanel,” Skrima told her.

    Ianfa didn't much like the sound of that. She gorged herself on the delicious meal as the group told her tale after tale of the vicious creatures that lived in Iritam. By the time she was done eating, she felt very confident that she DIDN'T want to go to the Iritam. But she knew her dreams didn't lie, and that her fate lay in the direction of the neighboring continent, so eventually, as the musicians packed up their instruments and headed for home, and the patrons of the tavern made their ways to their beds, she stretched, a huge yawn causing her jaw to creak. She rose from the bench, and said goodnight to her new friends.

    “We'll see you in the morning then, aye?” asked Sylto, watching her wobble with exhaustion. She nodded, and waved, and walked to the counter.  The bartender watched her approach as he dried off a clean mug and placed it on the shelf behind him

    "Need a bed for the night?" he asked her.

    "Yes, please," she responded.  She gave him a couple coins, and he gave her a key and directions to a tiny room on the third floor.  The room was barely big enough for the single bed inside of it.  She dropped her pack inside the door, fished a night-shirt out of one of the pockets and then grabbed a towel and washrag from the shelf near the door.  

    Around the corner from her room were the communal bathrooms for the females, and inside she found a series of tubs against one wall.  As warm water fell from the tap, she stripped and stepped in, moaning in happiness as she lounged against the back rest in the steamy water.  She dozed off momentarily, and then came to when another patron entered the neighboring room where the toilets were.

    A couple of bottles of liquid soap and hair wash sat on the tiny table next to each tub and quickly she scrubbed herself clean before washing the sweat and dirt from her hair.  She rinsed with a hair-detangling conditioner and then exited the tub, drying herself with the luxuriously fluffy towel from her room.  She slid the clean night shirt over her head and headed back to her room. 

     As she fell into her bed, her weariness over came her, and her eyes flickered shut. Tomorrow was the big day. Her first time on the ocean, and her second leg of her vision across the Islands of Falm. Not much longer now and she would finally meet the red-haired man, and find out just what role he was to play in her journey.