The Princess and The Dragon

Chapter 3 - Gold

The following morning, Cirimgor wakes us all a little after dawn. I was grateful toward the Captain for allowing me to sleep in his tent, but as I stretched, glad for the familiar feeling of enough rest, I felt bad, and wondered whether he had been able to sleep.

   I helped him pack away his belongings, along with the tent before I followed him into the caves. It was an ominnous sight: a labyrinth of tunnels awaited us. We traipsed through them, and I was fully aware of the movements all around me. I would see a glitter of red, or green, followed by a feline movement into hiding.

   "If they know we're here," I whispered to the Captain, "Why don't they attack?"

   "They want us to move into the heart of the cave, from where we can't exit again without their help," he replied in his normal voice. "There is no need to whisper, Alain. They communicate telepathically, so right now, most of these dragons can tell exactly what you're thinking."

   "Then how is the race fair, if the dragon knows what the others are thinking?" I asked, desperately avoiding the subject of my true gender.

   "Once you choose your dragon, they enter your mind and create a barrier around it so that no other dragon can enter it," he replied, "Don't worry. There is nothing to fear, provided that you follow the rules."

   I bit my tongue to hold back any rash words. Just then, I saw a glimmer of gold to my left, but I tried my best not to pay it any heed. Gold was no strange sight to me, anyway: Losbel was a very prosperous city because of its fertile soil and rich mines. We had no need of any more treasures.

   After around half an hour, the tunnels we were in opened up into a large opening, several times as big as my chambers, and I found myself wondering how many dragons could fit into it. I saw the silhouettes of the creatures here and there, but as soon as my eyes identified them, they would shy away into the shadows.

   I watched as Captain Cirimgor reached into his trenchcoat and retrieved a magnicent jewel: a golden stone in a silver setting.

   "By the Banner of the Dragons, I hereby call upon their king," he roared. His voice echoed through the tunnels, bouncing off the stone walls and pulsating throughout the caves.

   The ground started shaking, and I fought the urge to grab hold of the Captain's arm for comfort. Instead, I moved to a piece of stone to steady myself. A mighty roar erupted in the distance, one that was louder and more menacing than one hundred lions roaring together, and what made it worse was that it seemed to come from inside my head.

   "Alain?" a distant voice called, but my vision was dark. None of my muscles would comply. "Boy!" the voice roared again.

   I gasped, and removed my hands from in front of my eyes, immediately regretting that descision. Before me stood the biggest creature I could ever have imagined encountering. It must have been twenty feet high: its teeth was probably as I was, and it was bared.

   My legs refused to cooperate when I wanted to stand up in order to run away, but that did not stop me from trying to retreat. I crawled backward until I hit something hard. Stone dug into my spine.

   "Settle down, son," Captain Cirimgor said, crouching beside me, "They mean you no ill-well now that they know you're with me."

   I heard laughter, and traced the sound back to Godan, who was busting a gut along with his friends. "Did you see him? He squealed like a little girl!"

   Arise, child, a deep, warm voice pulsated throughout the confines of my skull, a voice so overwhelmingly powerful that I could not stop from clutching my ears in an attempt to block the sound out. Your leader is right. No harm will befall you whilst you are here. I can see that you have a strong heart. You simply have not found it yet. Arise now.

   "Take a few deep breaths, Alain," the Captain said. I did as he told me, and felt my panic slightly ease away. He clutched me by the elbow and helped me up. I clutched to the stone beside me in order to steady myself: my legs were not strong enough at the moment.

   "Have you assembled your racers, Dragonlord?" Cirimgor called to the colossal red creature.

   Indeed I have, the dragon replied. 

   Within my head, I heard a command as though at least three different people had spoken it, yet I knew it to be the voice of the dragon king, somehow. It was in a language that I could not identify: terrible in its power, but beautiful nonetheless.

   A great gust of wind nearly knocked me off-balance again as nine different dragons swept through the gaps in the tunnels, only to form a line in front of us. After several moments of marvelling at their strange beauty, I frown. Where is the tenth dragon?

   Something made me look to the side, where the same glimmer of gold I had seen earlier, was growing steadily bigger. It became the shape of a golden dragon, and I grinned at its agility when it expertly flew through a narrow gap in the stones. My grin fades, however, when it seems to land with great difficulty, stumbling slightly as it hit the ground.

   What are you doing here, weakling? a great, but different voice echoes in my head.

   Get lost, cur!

   Culpibility!

   You cannot let him race, lord! He is a degradation of our species!

   QUIET! the dragon king's voice overrode those of all the other dragons.

   I looked closely at the golden dragon's front paw, and winced. It looked as though a big part had been bitten clean off. Various slash marks lined the rest of the same leg. The dragon caught me staring at him, and I quickly lowered my gaze.

   Just then, another glimmer catches my gaze, and I watched as a sapphire dragon came to a land in the line with the rest of the other dragons.

   Pardons for my tardiness, lord, it said.

   Let me race! a new voice called, and the gold dragon approached the dragon king, begging with its eyes. A pang of hurt struck my heart. Those were my eyes whenever I begged my father to let me out. Please, father!

   No one will choose a weakling like you, a vaguely familiar voice said, and another red dragon stepped forward, snarling at the golden one.

   "I choose him!" I called. Suddenly, everyone's eyes were on me, and I felt myself trying to shy away and into shadows.

   Do you really? the golden dragon asked me, its eyes glistening.

   "I - I do," I stammered. "I choose the golden dragon. I saw it fly just now, and I choose it."

   This is an outrage!

   A scandal!

   You cannot let this happen, lord!

   "There are no rules in the scrolls that override the choice of the rider," Captain Cirimgor cut in, "If Alain wishes to race with this dragon, then the record shall so reflect."

   The dragon king looked at me, or rather, scrutinized every detail of my face. A cloud of smoke escaped its nostrils and I realised that it was sighing, which annoyed me. It was my choice.

   Very well. He shall race this year.

   The dragons burst out again in outrage, and I was fully aware that most of them were glaring at me as though I was the biggest enemy that they had ever faced.

   I found myself wondering: had I made the right choice, entering the dragon race this year?