Dragon Story: Chapter 2
Chapter 2 of my dragon story. Watch me for more!
A soft rustling of feathers awoke Celadon, he jumped with fright. He had awoken in a room full of elaborately decorated glass flasks containing liquids and dried leaves from plants. The warm glow of the fire from the hearth emitted a calming mood in the room. A young dragoness stood with her long feathery tail tickling Celadon's nose was counting bottles full of glowing lichen, used to cure severe stomachaches. The emerald dragon didn't move a muscle, trying as hard as he could not to sneeze from the silky feathers on the long tail.
He couldn't hold it in.
With a mighty snort, Celadon snorted green fire from his nostrils, eyes full of fear as the dragoness saw him. He tried to flee, but with a mutter from the feather-tailed dragoness, he was bound in place, trapped. The soft eyes bored into Celadon's scared ones. "Be calm, Celadon. I am Mirona, the medicine dragon of Xhalawhai." The blue dragoness said serenely, her soft tail sliding over his shoulder gently. I'm home...They must have heard me caterwauling... Celadon thought. The dragoness smelled like fresh mint after a spring rain, vibrant and soothing. With a mutter, Mirona released the spell holding Celadon captive, blood rushing through his veins. Celadon worked up the courage to speak. "A-are you the successor of Firenzaze?" he stuttered, staring at the feathered tail. "Yes, she was my mother. It's an honor for her name to be remembered. She cared for your mother and father...before the infection, didn't she?" Mirona asked curiously, nestling down next to the green shaking dragon. "Yes, and didn't she suffer the infection also? If so I'm sorry for your loss..." Celadon lowered his head, honoring the medical dragon, which was one of the highest jobs one can receive, and can only be of blood of the previous remedial dragon. She was...quite different than her mother than he had remembered. Firenzaze was a crimson stained dragon, her scales used to be a pure white, until their brilliantness was coated in blood, staining them for eternity. She had a spiked-tipped tail, her spike shaped like an elegant leaf, but sharper than any normal tail-tip. Around her eyes were small sun ray shaped plates making her icy blue eyes stand out. Firenzaze had magnificent wings, dark red against her body, but when sun shone through her webbing, it was the shade of sunset. Her scales had been stained when she was a hatchling, but her eyes still had that shine in them. What was brilliant about her was she had an amazing ability with healing magic, but had the strength more than a regular dragon. Stories passed down through time saying that it was her parent's blood that created the crimson scales that coated her sleek muscular body, her killing them with her short claws. But everyone knew she was a kindred spirit, not intending to harm any living thing. Many dragons feared her, their scales rattling as she walked passed, always wearing her smile. When she had completed her assessments, she was chosen to be the medicinal dragon, although her fighting skills were much higher than even her mentors who had been training for centuries and had experienced many a war. She soared through her training as the healer, learning all herbs as if she had once memorized them before. On blue moons, she abandoned her cave, saying she had to leave for "special" reasons, and left for a week. She returned with an energy that made her stay awake and never let her rest, her working so rapidly she was almost a blur. Once, on her annual blue moon journey, she returned with a young hatchling, who she named Mirona, a type of blue flower that only blooms on the blue moon. Many wondered where the young dragoness had come from, many saying it was Firenzaze's daughter. She raised Mirona as a medicinal dragon, but told her many more things about life.
Mirona, on the other hand, had a feathered tail, and was a dark shade of blue and had icy but kind blue eyes. She was sleeker, and had a longer body than most dragons. She did not have the sunray like plates around her eyes, but she had more of flowing river-like plates which were much more elegant than those of Firenzaze. Mirona had the same amount of strength as her mother, and more skill than the medicinal dragons of the past generations. Overall, many young dragons admired her not just for her heritage, but for her skill and beauty.
Mirona sighed as memories flooded her senses as she remembered her mother, always caring for her ever sense she arrived to Xhalawhai as a hatchling. Many secrets she had kept for years on end, never letting a word slip about them from her maw. She had kept a small part of a story from Firenzaze: a story that had been known since the beginning of time itself. How Mirona knew it, she was not sure herself, it was almost like an ancestral memory, but for some reason unknown to her, Firenzaze did not carry the same memory. After a few moments, Mirona replied "Yes, she came down with the sickness as well. She died the same night as your parents, dying just minutes after they did. And thank you for feeling my pain, for we have suffered so much many others wouldn't understand what we feel. It is a burden we must carry on for the rest of our lives, it never leaving our hearts." Wisdom was in her words. Although she was one of the youngest dragons, she carried the most wisdom on her wings, history of past lives weighing down on her.
Celadon looked at the dragoness closely to discover well hidden scars on her arms, as if she had once been in battle, which medicinal dragons were forbidden to do unless it was to help the wounded. "Mirona, may I ask where you obtained those scars...?" Celadon asked curiously, avoiding her eyes fearing they would hold anger. Mirona didn't hint any sign of anger whatsoever but was surprised someone noticed the marks. "I honestly have not the slightest clue on where I got them. I was surprised myself when I noticed them. Perhaps I got them by sleeping on the cave floor without bedding and rolled on a sharp rock? I'm still trying to find out the cause." She replied, but Celadon could tell she was keeping a secret, something about the scars. I wonder how she really got them, the dragon wondered, but his thoughts were interrupted when he saw a lilac scale roll out from under a sheet of woven flowers. Celadons throat tightened as he remembered the shade of purple. "I-is that her?" Celadon said shakily, fearing the answer to the question was what he thought. Mirona rested her snout on his shoulder. "I'm so sorry for your loss. Yes she is here with us in this room and in our hearts and memories for eternity. We must honor her, for if we don't, her name will not pass down in with respect. She was the most skilled hunter in the tribe, and we will not forget that." She said wistfully, rubbing her snout on his cheek.
Celadon's eyes started to tear, knowing the body of Lilica was in the room with him. He wanted to scream, to rid the demons that were making the illusion that his sister was really gone forever, not hearing her mellow voice in his ears again. Mirona, sensing his grief, muttered under her breath, and the green dragon's heavy head dropped down to the soft mossy cave floor, his dreams haunted by the memory of watching his sisters heart being pierced by the amethyst dragon plate.