This is a culmination of my too many interests. It's is an in-between place. It's more focused than my Myspace blog, but less so than my author blog. Here you can find artwork, photography, writing, poetry, book covers, manga and pointless videos. All of these things mesh together to become a reflection of their creator in an in-between place colored like shadows and flavored like frappuccinos and chocolate. It's one heck of a world.

Wednesday, May 5, 2010

The Dragon's Maid Part II

short story by you.


A very import part of Fenrick’s agreement with the King was that he’d set out to slay the dragon in four days time. The reason he sighted for the delay was that he needed to gather certain supplies, however the truth was that he wanted desperately to find the young lady he’d met by the gate. However, she was nowhere to be seen. He reasoned it was just as well, as he needed his rest, then headed to the inn for the night.

The next day brought him much better success. It was not yet mid morning when he found her walking in what appeared to be a private garden, complete with fences and what was left of some scraggy flowering trees. Despite the woeful appearance of the place, the maid was as beautiful as he remembered, if not more so, and he hopped the fence and dropped down at her feet.

“Milady,” he began, his eyes properly averted. “I am but a humble and lowly creature, still I must beg of you to grace my ears with your name.”

Her silvery laughter drew his eyes upwards and, instead of scorn, he found true mirth on her face.
“My good sir, there is no need for you to bend down into the dust. Come, stand up.”

He tried to hide his smile. “I’m afraid I can not, my fair lady, until you have done me the honor of hearing your name.”

She nearly giggled this time. “I’m afraid that is truly impossible, sir. For, you see, I don’t yet know your name, and it would hardly befit a lady to go around discussing such intimate matters with a complete stranger.”

Without a thought, Fenrick hopped to his feet, then bowed low at the waist. “My name is Fenrick, and I am but the son of a farmer who has come to this land to make my fortune.”

The young lady looked suddenly serious. “To make your fortune here would indeed be a remarkable task.” She opened her mouth to say more, but at that exact moment a loud roar tore through the peaceful atmosphere.

The lady’s face went ashen and she suddenly clutched at Fenrick’s arm. “It’s the dragon! We must hurry to shelter!”

The fantastic roar sounded again and the would be warrior looked to see the people in the streets beyond running towards the blackened stone keep. With a quick nod of agreement, he grabbed the lady’s hand and started to run in that direction himself, but they weren’t fast enough. They had barley reached the marketplace when the beast swooped down upon them, blowing plumes of smoke and flame.

Fenrick thought fast, and half tackled, half flung the young woman behind one of the sturdier vegetable stands.  For a split second he found himself on top of her, staring into a startled pair of green eyes, but he quickly pulled away to crouch in front of her, his sword drawn and ready.

The dragon was either unaware of them, or completely unconcerned, as he circled overhead, blasting fire towards a stray herd of panicked sheep. Fenrick’s nose wrinkled involuntarily at the smell of scorched wool, and he found himself asking, “I thought the dragon only came in the afternoon?”

“Except on the morning before the full moon,” The young woman explained as she slowly pulled herself into a kneeling position behind him. “It is said that the moon drives him crazy and he can not help himself on such days.”

A true warrior would have used such knowledge to his advantage, but Fenrick did not. It is true enough that our hero was strong, brave and able, but alas he had something on his mind at that particular moment other than dragon slaying, and that was courtship. And so, instead of rushing out to defeat the terrible dragon immediately, he stayed hidden with the young woman, his sword ever ready, but unused.

When the monster had at last retreated, Fenrick turned to her and, with a jovial smile commented, “And so now you not only know my name, but I have done no less than save you from the same fate suffered by those poor sheep. Certainly you can call me stranger no longer?”

Almost unbelievably, the woman smiled; even as cottages and sheep still smoldered all around them.  “Yes, good sir, I believe you are correct. You may know me as Telanja.” (Tel-on-ya)

And so Fenrick returned the lovely Telanja to her garden, and managed to get permission to call again - which he did that very same afternoon. Much to his delight, the young lady seemed happy, rather than annoyed, at seeing him again so soon.  In the next three days he saw much of her, between dragon attacks, and by the fourth night - the evening before he must leave to slay the dragon- he had decided to ask her to marry him.

He met her in the private garden, and led her around the track between the stunted, withered trees. She walked beside him, her every motion betraying her anxious heart. Finally, as the waning gibbous moon shone down on them, Fenrick stopped walking and dropped to one knee before.

“My dearest Telanja, tomorrow I leave to kill the dragon, and my heart would travel lighter if I had from you a pledge to be my bride.”

Her eyes grew wide with horror, and for a moment Fenrick was deeply concerned, but then she cleared the matter up. “To slay the dragon? Fenrick! No! You mustn’t! There is a hero already, come from a distant land-“  But she cut herself off as she realized the circulating stories must refer to the very man before her. “Oh. I see.”

Fenrick nodded quickly. “Yes, I am that hero, though I do not as of yet deserve such a title. But once the deed is done I will return to you. Will you then be my wife?”

Telanja opened and closed her mouth several times, no doubt debating what to say. Finally, she answered him with a simple, “Yes, should you return, I will marry you.”

 “Should I return?” he echoed, a smile on his face. “Of course I’ll return. How can I not when I have something such as my beautiful Telanja waiting for me?”

Her voice was soft and serious as she gave vent to some of the warnings she’d refrained from a moment ago, “So you say, my love, but how can that protect you from the fury of the dragon? You’ve seen him these last three days when he flies over, disgorging flames and bringing death and destruction. There’s no need for you to die for a country you have no kin in. Come, let us leave tonight.”

But Fenrick shook his head. “How can I turn from a task when I’ve sworn to complete it? Besides, I have nothing to offer you as I am now. Only the scratching of a poor farm, many days away. But, once I’ve defeated the dragon, the king will grant to me land and a title and-”

In a fit of passion, Telanja grabbed his hands in hers and entreated to him, “It matters not. I will take scratching on a farm over weeping at your funeral. There is no hope for any man to defeat that creature! Come, we must leave tonight!”

But Fenrick wouldn’t hear of it, and after they bid a passionate, if not tear filled farewell, he headed to the inn for his last night - his last night before he became a man of title.


And for the segment I like to call “Random Things from my Hard Drives”, here’s some more….

artwork by you.

Okay, it’s another cover. But I have some random art work waiting for me to finish it someday.

I have a random video coming as soon as I get it uploaded, maybe next blog.

Fav sing of the moment - "Hurricane" - 30 Seconds to Mars


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