Dragon Tamer - Book 1

Chapter 25

A week had passed since Marcie had said goodbye to Dara and she could still feel the combined ache of his and her own loneliness.

She set about distracting herself from the ache, fortunately it was not particularly difficult as the whole village was busy preparing for The Passing, the festival marking the end of summer and the beginning of winter.

Everyone was involved. The very best crops and meat were being prepared, the village centre was being set up with streams of ribbons and lanterns filled with different coloured glass,  tables covered in the finest cloth and the surrounding houses painted with incredible scenes of setting suns and flowers and fields in pasture. It was an explosion of colour to try and off put the darkness of the coming months, and Marcie's favourite time of year.

She shared the images with Dara and his responses were positive, if subdued.

She  herself was kept busy, by Luce's forthcoming birthing day and the fact that she kept inviting her over to watch the children and have tea, usually when Merrick was finished with work, but she was mostly busy stitching and sewing the beautiful dresses and suits for the villagers. The common theme was one of high collered, formal black shirts and trousers for the men and low neck lines and tight bodices with long, flowing, colourful skirts for the women.

It was the one time of the year that women were permitted to flaunt their bodies and as a result the event was always held in high regard, not only for the men, but also for the women to show what they had to offer. Many marriages were arranged after The Passing.

Marcie did in fact have a dress, the same one she had worn for the past few years. She made a few alterations to it annually but liked to keep it simple, her usual preference stemming towards shirts and trousers. She remembered wearing brightly coloured dresses as a child, but then, her mother had been a trader by birth and was loath to were the plain earthy tones worn by the village women. Unfortunately the dresses had been just some of the things her father had burned after her she died.

She was working on one particular Passing dress in Miss Maidens shop, seated on a stall in the back room she was surrounded by fabrics and threads, her fingers itched from the hours she had already put in preparing the costumes. She contemplated the beautiful design of the dress she held in her arms. It was almost a work of art, an underlying white petticoat was attached with a layer of brilliant red, orange and yellow streamers in layers, the corset bodice made of the darkest red dyed leather with black lace and orange ties.

It was obviously a fire themed dress and it was certainly one of the most extravagant, and the most expensive. She applied the last stitch in the bodice, finishing the beautiful design of the outline of flames that went up one side, and gave a sigh of relief, the light was fading fast and the interior of the shop had grown gloomy, despite this she could still see clearly, (another effect of her bond with Dara).

She leaned her head back on the wall behind her and flexed her fingers to ease the stiffness that had settled into them, then she held the dress out in front of her to examine her work. She made a few more tweaks, then ran her hands through the streams of fabric, bought from traders in preparation for the event, they were soft and caught the fading light, appearing to flicker. Dara voiced his appreciation for the design.

Marcie stood, held the dress against her and viewed herself in the full length mirror set against the wall.

It was so beautiful. 

Holding out the skirt and doing a spin, the streamers flew out and the different colours blended together in union, creating the appearance that the skirt really was on fire. She carried on spinning, becoming dizzy but unable to take her eyes off the colours and the way they came to life.

A now familiar pain shot through her chest and all the candles burst into flame. 

She stopped spinning immediately and stared around her, the candles, from the smallest singles on the work top to the large caged candles that hung from the ceiling had all come alight at once and were burning brightly, the flame larger than they should have been. 

The pain in her chest faded and the candle flames lessened but still remained alight, Marcie breathed in deeply then breathed out slowly to calm herself down,

"Marcie are you done?" Miss Maiden called,

Marcie whirled round to see her come through the doorway, still holding the dress,

"Oh, you've lit the candles, you needn't have dear I could have done it"

Marcie did not know what to say so she remained silent, Miss Maiden examined her and smiled indulgently, "Oh Marcie, that dress is gorgeous, so beautiful and it suits you!"

Marcie laughed nervously, "Not really" she managed to say,

"Nonsense" Miss Maiden replied with a wave of her hand, she lifted the skirt outwards and ran an appraising eye over it,

"Good colour blend" she muttered, almost to herself, "Perfect stitching, just look at the way the streamers catch the light, exquisite, absolutely exquisite. You have outdone yourself this time darling" she said giving the dress a shake,

"It is nice" Marcie said, her heart still racing as she carefully placed the dress back on its mannequin,

"More than nice" Miss Maiden scoffed, then she peered closer at Marcie, "Are you alright dear?" she asked,

"Fine" Marcie replied turning her back on her and arranging the dress better,

"I think you are tired, you've been working to  hard my dear" Miss Maiden pronounced, an edge of worry creeping into her voice, "Why do you not go home"

The last thing Marcie wanted to do was go home and sit in the dark thinking over what had just transpired, but she wasn't about to tell Miss Maiden that so she mustered up a smile,

"In a moment, first I shall tidy up" she said,

"No need, it can wait"

"No no, I will do it, I made most of this mess anyway" she indicated the fabrics and thread strewn around the back room with a wave of her hand,

"Alright dear, see you tomorrow" Miss Maiden said, she was not convinced and she probably wouldn't be again, after all she knew Marcie was hiding something, for a second she looked like she might say something else, but she just nodded and left, closing the door behind her.

Marcie let out a breath and turned back to the mirror, she stared at herself hard then she raised a hesitant hand to the neck of her shirt and slowly undid the first couple of buttons, then she pulled the two sides away from each other.

The mark on the centre of her chest had grown. 

The strange flame shaped mark now had another flame shape branching off it. Whereas before it had appeared to be just a strange shaped bruise, now it looked more like a tattoo. The village didn't partake in the marking of their flesh with needle and ink but quite often traders had symbols and patterns on their arms and sometimes their faces. Once, as a curious child, she had inquired how the marks were made and a kindly trader had explained how a needle was dipped in ink and then the skin was pricked so blood was drawn and the ink went under the skin, as an innocent youngster she had been mildly horrified at the seeming mutilation, but that was what the mark appeared to be, a tattoo directly over her heart and one that grew as she performed acts of...what? Magic? Sorcery? Evil? She shuddered and closed her shirt over the mark.

She sent questioning thoughts to Dara but he was as ignorant as she, and did not seem worried.

She tried to distract herself by tidying the shop and when she was done she gazed longingly at the finished dress, now standing in pride of place in the centre of the room. She went to extinguish the candles and stopped, after much deliberation she closed her eyes and focused on the image of the candle and imagined it going out.

When she opened her eyes she was in darkness.