How Dragons Survived the Flood

Chapter 3 Part 1

Bolting upright in his bed, Japheth clapped his hands over his ears, protecting them from the echoing blare of the shofar. The sound swept him into a memory. Ismi—

The large she-dragon plummeted to earth and scooped him up. The shrill, sharp notes from the ram's horn did nothing to rally his father's men. Her mate was flying directly toward them, blasting flame all around. A rescue would not be coming.

As quickly as it came, the vision was gone. This morning, the blasts were demanding that all the occupants, slave and master alike, rise from their slumber and begin their daily tasks.

Stretching his arms over head, he smiled in remembrance. While shofar blasts were loud, they were nothing compared to the roar of an attacking dragon. He replayed the images from the past again and frowned.

The men had looked at him, weapons drawn and then at the man blowing the shofar. Confusion filled their eyes while they slowly lowered their weapons. Had he been blaring out a retreat or an attack?

A loud knock on his door and Japh's attention shifted back to the present, as Noah pushed the door open and strode into the room. He frowned when he saw Japheth still in bed. "Come break the fast. We must go to the temple and give praise again to God as we prepare for tonight's Budding Flower Moon ceremony." His father left the room as abruptly as he had entered, the door banging shut behind him.

Pulling on his dragon-rider clothes, Japh heard another knock on his door. Opening it, he found Ne'elatama'uk standing before him carrying a bundle of fabric. His eyes widened as he saw she was sporting a fresh black eye.

She shook the fabric, taking the attention away from her face. The robe that unfolded before him was a thing of finely woven beauty. Pure white except for sleeve cuffs the color of fresh asparagus that matched the pale-green band running the length of the robe's placket and around the hem. The symbol of Noah's House, three rows of inverted plow shapes embroidered in black thread, stood out in bold relief within the field of green.

"Sister, this is much too fine for a coarse dragon rider like me."

She smiled her dreamy smile. "Wear this into the viper's den and be not afraid; its protection is great." [ It will protect him in the inner circle of priests somehow - maybe allowing him in for studies ]

He smiled back at her and shook his head when he again saw her eye. "Perhaps then, Sister, you should wear it to protect yourself. It seems you have had an unfortunate incident."

A sad smile graced her lips, as she whispered, "Vipers can only hurt the vessel, not the memory it contains. A buck in rut cares not for the comfort of the doe.[ A prophecy - Ham does not care for her comfort - she has memories about something, and I have forgotten what it is she has done; ]" Turning slowly, holding her left arm tight to her side, she made her way to the main living quarters.

Watching her hobble away, he shook his head. He knew the bruise was new, as well as her limp.

He did not don his borrowed tunic or priest's robe right away, but went to breakfast, arriving in time for the food's blessing. He closed his eyes, hoping the prayer would be short.

The smell of food wafted under his nose. He peeked out from under his eyelashes and saw what was on the table. Fresh fruit. Warm bread. Hot tea. Prayers, he decided, were an especially exquisite form of torture. He found himself wishing for his simple life with the dragons, where food was picked up and eaten.

When the prayer finally ended, Na'amah passed the fruit and flatbread to Noah, who took a portion of each before passing the food to Shem. The food made its way around the table as Noah, taking a bite of bread, continued to explain, "You, Japheth, will stand with the group of acolytes."