Dragon WytchChapter 12
- 2 years ago
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You came into my dreams again this afternoon. I was hoping you would. Your hair was much longer than when I saw you last, falling between your shoulders and cut in a fringe in the front. I thought it was quite lovely.
You were dressed in soft pink, in a dress whose straps fell around your shoulders.
We walked down the streets as we always did a long time ago. You were talking about yourself and I was just trying to keep from putting my arms around you. Even in my dreams I could feel my heart ache for you.
Soon, we reached the end of the street and I knew that you would have to go. That old familiar feeling of longing, returned to kiss you before we part. But as always, all I could do was reach out and pat your head or brush a strand of hair from your face.
You were always sensitive about being touched by anyone. Part of the reason why I never really tried too much. This time too you tensed, as my hand moved towards your face. I waited till you relaxed and gently ruffled the hair on your head.
Then you were gone and I began to awake. It was as if we had met in my dream, spent some time together and then parted ways once more. I was happy to have seen you again, though it was only in my dreams.
I awoke with a warm glow coursing through my tired body. And then, I did something that was quite rare for me now, I smiled.
……………..
It’s not just love. Nor was it as plain as desire. Actually, I wouldn’t know how to desire you. How does one make love to love itself?
At its most simplest it was that I still needed you. Though cliché, I needed you with the same unaware desperateness, as the air that sustained me. Its not just that I need it, nor is it that I really love it. But without this air, I would cease to exist.
I don’t rightly know if I love you or not. Its just that without you, in a manner of speaking, I also cease to exist. And herein lies the dilemma that has plagued me all these long and lonely years. How many of us really Need the ones that we Love, and more importantly, how many of us really Love the ones that we say we Need.
…..
It took me many years of snowstorms and blizzards and many more countless nights of starry skies and velvet mornings in this faraway land to admit that I had indeed loved you. And not just needed you. But to admit to both and also accept a life without you was more than I could have survived.
So I left to roam my beloved mountains as many a times I had dreamt of doing. It was in these lands that I spent these many years becoming what I did. Never dreaming to see you again in this lonesome lifetime.
And then one day I did.
…..
Some time ago, my dad and I, along with a few of my closest companions were returning from a stint at the Tsangpo river. There we had decided to take care of a rather elusive and nasty pair of Dragons that had grown bored of the occasional livestock and had taken to the less meaty but probably tastier young people of the valley.
I know this sounds rather far fetched in this day and age, but they do exist — the slayers I mean …. As do the dragons. Large and scaly, winged reptiles with a rather temperamental disposition towards all non dragon like entities. Do they shoot fire? Well yes they do, occasionally.
Anyway, to continue about slayers, how exactly does one qualify as a Dragon slayer? Is one born a slayer or trained to become one???
Well, most of us who have earned the title of slayers are a rather ordinary kind of people. Though slightly anti social in personality, which explains our preference for the lonely wilderness. Slayers are slayers simply because they have been lucky enough to survive an unusually large number of encounters with these strange and magnificent beasts and are inexplicably desperate enough to seek out more of their type.
One would wonder at the reason behind a persons desire to kill Dragons.
Well, Dragons are quite revered by the people who make these lands their homes. They view these creature as rather moody though aloof personifications of holiness. Considering the holiness of the Dragons, the villagers don’t really mind the occasional shortage of sheep and yak but take a dignified umbrage when their precious few neighbors begin to disappear.
When this happens, these simple people start discussing the situation in very hushed whispers around their little campfires. These hushed whispers finally reach our ears and that is when we come into the picture.
Now, this may take a month, it may take a year or maybe even many years. But eventually, we do come. As they hope we will.
Having said all this, I will now share that this story is not really about the Dragons or my rather colorful past.
This is a story about Us. About Her. And about how We happened.
… … …
Having dealt with the Tsangpo Dragons, we were returning on a rather rattle trap train chugging away with all the efficiency of a sleep deprived snail. Our journey took us through the precarious twists of the Yamdroko mountain range towards the small village of Langsha. This was where we had left our horses and guides for the return journey.
………
I was trying my best to sleep but somehow, Her face wouldn’t let me. The shaking, rattling, musty compartment was no help either.
I hadn’t at first managed a good look at her. I did learn that She was an anthropologist who had completed Her research on these mountain tribes and was now on Her way back home.
Initially, we were all covered up to our eye balls in snow wear. So I doubt She could have seen my face. As the cabin began to warm with our collective body heat, she loosened her scarf and removed the cowl of her jacket.
I had never and have never since then, seen such gentle strength and womanly beauty in any other person in my life. She was lovely.
Looking at her, I was reminded of winter ice on a mountain stream when the summer begins to warm the land. Cool and distant, though not beyond the warmth of passion. Her undercurrents of emotion, that ran sure, deep and strong.
To me, She was as timeless as time itself and as fresh as the first breeze that brushed the rocks of these mountain slopes.
She was also married! And so I decided to keep my face covered!
Married! Another one of those twists in life that seem to be as part of me as the lines on my palm. To see and yearn for that which could never and would never be mine.
I tried to strike up a conversation with her in the compartment. But, my usual eloquence went into its usual hibernation as soon as she turned her winter blue eyes on me. She didn’t say very much other than her name, what brought her to these remote places and her marital status ( a not so subtle hint I guessed ).
I didn’t say very much either. Introducing oneself as a Dragon slayer isn’t the most effective way of being taken seriously and I’m not very good at concocting a story of why I am floating around these remote areas. My extremely scruffy appearance and very visible weapons didn’t seem to help casual talk very much either. I was very grateful for the long hair and full beard that had become a part of me over the years.
When one begins to look the way that I looked, people tend to stop taking a second look. An invaluable advantage for fellows like me, who wish to remain unnoticed.
And so I spent my time taking sneak peeks at her jacket covered profile. And while I did so, I wondered at life and fate and karma and all those other things, that led this Woman into this train at this particular moment in time.
…….
The Yamdroko range is well known to us slayers as there have been many instances of Dragons being spotted in these mountains. However, they have never really been a menace to anyone.
It was in the early parts of the morning that I awoke with a rather un
easy feeling that had nothing to do with the movement of the train or the yak cheese that was still in my mouth. I pushed myself towards the entrance of our cabin for a larger amount of fresh air. Bracing myself against the door I took in a deep breath and drank in the raw beauty of the Tibetan night rolling by.
It was a beautiful night as all nights tend to be in the mountains of Tibet. There was a half moon out between the clouds, making the shades or grey rock, green shrubs and pearly snow particularly calming.
Looking back I could just about make out Her silhouette. Soft and sweetly shapeless against the moonlight filtering through the window.
I wished that She were with me. Standing near me. Sharing the mixture of attachment and detachment that I felt at the sight before my eyes. I wanted to put my arms around Her and hold Her. To let my warmth shield Her from the cold mountain air as She stood against me.
Shrugging my shoulders as I always do, I turned back towards the outside scenery. I glanced up reflexively at the part where the dark sky brushes the darker mountain ridge. A slayers second nature, as Dragons tend to follow the mountain contours. It makes them harder to spot as they move in to attack. The sky seemed clear. But the feeling wouldn’t leave me. Reflexively, my fingers curved around my weapon.
With its the pistol grip the Atchisson AA-12 is without doubt, the worlds deadliest shotgun.
Its drum magazine was loaded with alternate rounds of Magnum buckshot and rifled slugs. The spreading buckshot ensure that I never miss and the steel jacketed slugs are designed to be armor piercing. I had also added a laser sighting and night vision cum thermal scope.
Designed to fire a lethal 350 rounds per minuet on full automatic, it was a dragon killers weapon of choice
I unclipped the telescope from its mount and scanned the surrounding terrain. Nothing seemed out of place.
Replacing the scope I realized that the sky was beginning to clear. It would be daylight in a short while.
Sensing movement behind me I was surprised to see Her standing with a faintly speculative look on her face. I meet her gaze without flinching. It’s the talking that is a problem for me. Besides, my jacket hood still covered my face.
Looking rather pointedly at my weapon She asked me if I too am a researcher of some kind. I think I smiled when I said I was a hunter. She considered this for a moment and said that the hunting must have been bad as we didn’t seem to have any furs or trophies with us. Looking at my companions snoring in the cabin behind us She remarked that automatic rifles were unusual hunting tools.
I made no reply to these rather astute comments and decided to stick to killing Dragons and keeping my mouth shut.
I asked if she had slept well and offered her some cold tea from my thermos along with some unsalted cheese wrapped in cloth. It was quite pleasant to see that she was not repulsed by the package of the simple meal as most city people tend to be. She ate quietly and slowly savoring each mouthful of cheese and tea. Another point in her favor.
While eating, She would alternate between looking out and looking at me. I wasn’t too happy to be the center of her curiosity and kept my jacket hood pulled over my head. Once done with the cheese and tea she tucked herself into the wall opposite me and began to talk.
Her voice was soft and warm. She spoke slowly and with an inherent sweetness that made me yearn for each and every word that she uttered.
She told me that in the course of her studies, She had in a fashion learnt to understand people. She knew about men who carried guns and generally didn’t like them. She liked hobby hunters even lesser.
I apparently didn’t seem to act like any criminal She had ever seen. Nor did I appear to be a hobby hunter who killed for pleasure. So, according to Her, I had obviously lied.
This, it seemed was fine by Her as my lie was probably only said to maintain my own privacy. And privacy was something She respected.
I in turn asked Her if She was usually in a habit of walking up to gun toting strangers and calling them liars. She said She wasn’t but had made an exception in my case.
I couldn’t help but smile at this.
She said there was something about my voice that reminded her of something or someone She had known many years ago. My heart skipped a beat on hearing these words. Why didn’t She just go back to sleep I wondered.
Looking outside at the lightening country side She remarked that I reminded her of the mountains outside. They appeared so inviting that one would want to explore them and get to know them. Yet, for all their appeal, they were lonely, cold and unforgiving to all but the few who spent a lifetime learning their ways.
It sounded pretty nice and so I stayed silent.
I wanted to ask her what a married woman was doing so far away from Her home and husband. What could make Her leave the security of Her house to live in these most remotest of wild places?
But, I held my peace. She was here now….With me now….Sharing my simple meal… Holding my gaze, and though she didn’t know it yet, my impossible heart as well.
I have lived outside the realm of black and white for many years and have learnt the ways of the Grey realm. Those who willingly choose to live a part of their lives in the Grey area between accepted and unaccepted, right and wrong, lawful and unlawful are a very peculiar breed.
Only now did I recognize her as one such person.
We dwellers of this Grey realm live for the present. For the now. It is for this reason alone that we come out of our black and white everyday lives and escape to the world of Now, where one lives and follows ones own heartfelt dreams. And for those short periods of time we Live. And we live free. Free of the past, free of the future. Just free…….!
My thoughts were quite suddenly interrupted by a shrill shout from the roof of the train compartment. The trains services in these lands are not exactly regular and rarely if ever on schedule. When the trains do arrive, they are normally filled to well beyond the safe limit. A number of people even finding means to secure themselves to the roof.
It was one such roof dweller who had apparently missed his hold and had quite naturally fallen off. Thankfully, we were out of the steep ravine and in a relatively open area by now. This place slopped off sharply towards a line of pines some distance away.
The ground was covered in dark green grass that was quite soft. Our fallen friend was rolling down this particular incline with a reasonable amount of speed and an unreasonable amount of shouting. It was unlikely that he could have hurt himself very seriously at our crawling speed. However,the yelling awoke the other travelers and one decided to pull the emergency brake. Our train came to a shaky and lurching stop with much groaning and loud creaking.
I jumped out to stretch my legs, giving thanks to the unknown individual who had been kind enough to fall off and offer us this respite from the journey. My father and a few more companions joined me as some others went off to retrieve their fallen comrade.
She also stepped out and walked a few feet away from us.
I was in the middle of a particularly nice long stretch when I felt a tap on my shoulder and heard my father say my name softly but urgently. Turning around I followed his gaze and felt the familiar feel of fear clog up my throat.
Low on the horizon, following the curves of the valley, were three very familiar winged shapes, hurtling towards us…. Dragons!!!
We immediately fanned out making a protective semicircle against the cabin door. One sharp yell had brought out my other friends. My father and I started shouting for the people to return and for the engine driver to start moving the train.
Most of the pe
ople hadn’t even noticed that anything was amiss yet. Actually, most wouldn’t even believe what they were looking at.
She came towards me as the people began to panic. There was shock in her eyes and She asked me if those creatures were what they appeared to be.
I told her they were Dragons and She had best get inside the train as they were quite close and obviously on a hunt.
Turning away from her my entire focus was now on the threat from the skies. They must have been following us for a while hoping for a chance to attack. Our roof dweller had given them just what they were looking for.
The first one rushed by us with a shrill scream pulling up sharply just beyond the train. Dragons are great solitary hunters but are even more accomplished pack hunters. They are great at ambushing prey. One distracts while the others attack from the rear.
The other two beasts turned quickly towards the few remaining people who were still making their way back. I heard my companions open up with their automatics which had a longer range than my shotgun.
I turned towards the first beast who had rushed by us a moment ago. This one had pulled up right above us, flipped over and was now rushing down towards my small group. This was no diversion. This was a full out attack.
I wasn’t afraid of him spitting fire at us as they rarely do this during a hunt. They mostly throw fire when threatened or cornered.
Yelling a warning to my companions to move away I brought my gun up, my fingers already tightening on the trigger. Aiming slightly below the hurtling jaws I fired twice with what is known as a double tap. Two shots fired so close together that they almost sound like one. The first shot kills you and the second makes it certain.
The first double tap took out the creatures head and the second blew its chest apart.
I had already moved into a very fast forward roll. Moving as far away from the now very dead body crashing down to where I had been a few moments ago. Its weight could have kill me as surely as its jaws might have.
On my feet again, I spun towards the distinctive boom of a 50 caliber Galleel firing at another beast. I saw the other Dragon smash into the Pine trees nearby, a victim of my fathers single and very accurate shot. A 50 caliber bullet could take down an armored helicopter or punch a hole through a foot of concrete at over a mile. That dragon was quite certainly dead.
One part of my mind had became aware that the train was beginning to move again. The third Dragon had probably seen enough and had decided to beat a hasty retreat. I saw his powerful wings propel him far away from us in a matter of a few seconds.
It was a relief to see that we were all alive and apparently fit enough to run after the train and hop aboard one by one.
This had been a very dangerous encounter and we had been lucky. Out in the open with no cover and too many people to protect, against a larger pack of these creatures the result may well have been a little different.
The whole fight from the moment we first spotted the beasts till jumping back into the train took no more than three minutes. An eternity for us.
On the train we were greeted with an attitude that would undoubtedly have perplexed a stranger to these people. They smiled to express a degree of gratitude but gave us a very wide berth. The women made signs to ward off the evil eye and the men just stared at us with wide and slightly frightened eyes.
But, we were not resting yet. Yaeine took the 50 caliber rifle and clambered up onto the now rather deserted roof. The rest of us took our positions at the various windows and few doors of the trains cabin. Our eyes searching the horizon for what we were sure would come next.
I checked my weapon, reloaded it and settled down for a long watch. It was only then that I noticed that my hood had fallen back to my shoulders. I felt Her presence behind me but didn’t turn around to face Her. I was afraid of what She would see in my face.
More importantly, I was afraid of what I would see in Hers.
She called out my name once. Very softly. My real name. The name that I hadn’t been called in many years. She had seen through the mask I had woven around myself. One part of me was glad that the deception was over and that I no longer had to hide. Seeing the tension drain out of my body she settled down next to me and changed the topic. There would be time for explanations later.
Fawn
- 07.03.2020
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