Authors: Kathryn Fogleman
“This was Alia's. She made it herself,” he stated quietly. A hint of a smile touched his face as he remembered how proud Alia had been after she had finished making the little doll. She had put the utmost love and care into making it, only for it to be burned until barely recognizable. He stood and slowly let the burned rag drop from his hands back into the ashes. Then he turned and continued to walk on. He halted momentarily to scan the area around him when his eyes paused on a body that seemed familiar. His heart pounded against his chest as he came to realize whose body he was looking upon. Before he could react, the tears began to overflow from his eyes.
"No!” Keegan cried and ran to the side of a young boy as sobs began to tear at his chest. “Torry, my friend,” he said silently as he looked at his dead friend. He laid his hand on Torry's stiff, cold chest. How could this happen? Why did this happen? Why Torry? Why did he have to die? Torry was a good boy and never hurt anyone.
Keegan wiped the tears from his eyes and stroked a strand of dried, bloody hair out of Torry's cold, pale face. The expression on Torry's face was so peaceful. It looked calm and relieved--relieved from life's troubles. Torry was in peace now. Keegan somehow found comfort in this knowledge. He sighed and held back the battalion of sobs that threatened to break out of his throat. He then leaned over and kissed his friend on the forehead. "Rest in peace, my friend. Rest in peace,” he said quietly as a few more tears fell onto his friend's cold and tranquil face.
Keegan stood slowly and moved away from Torry's side. He turned his gaze to where he remembered his father lying. He must see his father's body. He must tell his father goodbye and that he was sorry--sorry for causing this disaster. Even though his father would never know how truly sorry he was, he must tell him. He began to walk, and as he walked he wondered if he could look upon his father's still form. Could he do it? Could he touch his father and feel his lifeless skin? Or would he turn around and run away? He had to be brave. He had to face it. He had to. It would make his father proud.
His father's body came into sight as he walked. His stomach began to churn, and his limbs began to grow numb and feel like jelly, but he forced himself forward and continued to tell himself to be brave. As Keegan approached his father, he saw another body lying atop his father's. At first he did not recognize it with the blackness of burns and the blood of wounds covering it, but when he did, his heart stopped. Every brave hope and thought fled as he realized it was a person he had loved so much. A person that he had hoped with every fiber of his being would be alive; it was his mother.
He came to a sudden halt and stared in shock at the sight. His legs stiffened and locked. His breathing stopped. He felt his insides go numb and cold. He did not want to believe what his eyes were telling him. It could not be true, not after he had hoped so hard. He was certain that his mother was going to make it out alive. But there she was, before Keegan's very eyes. Her limp, tattered body was lying across his father's; she had died with her love.
Keegan began to scream as he ran to the two crumpled bodies. He slid on his knees in front of his mother, rolled her body onto his lap and hugged her close. He rocked her back and forth, groaning. He cried so hard, he could not even sob; he could barely breathe.
Not his mother! How could he bare this? Was he never to be held again? Never to be loved by his parents again? Never to hear his mother's comforting words or the pride in his father's voice? Never to feel the warm embrace of his mother or the strong arms of his father wrap around him again? Never again? How could this be? Why? How could he ever go on?
Pharrgon walked up behind Keegan with his head drooping low. He stretched out his mighty wings and laid them on the ground. Then he raised his majestic, solemn head high into the air and let out a long, mournful cry. His cry was heard for miles around. The fleeing Wovlens heard it. The marching army of men in black heard it. Far away farmers heard it. All who heard it, even though they did not completely understand, knew that something terrible had happened. Those who heard it began to mourn, either outwardly or inwardly, just as the young boy and dragon did.
Keegan cried until he had no more tears to cry. He cried until he knew that the cold body he held in his arms was completely lifeless and would never again hold him. He rocked his mother's body, holding it as tightly as he could, still unable to let her go. He began to sing the song of death that all Wovlens had sung when someone died, except now he sang it for his own mother and father. Pharrgon stood quietly, while Keegan choked out the song. He would hum along to help Keegan when he had gotten too choked up to sing anymore.
"I will help you bury them all Keegan," Pharrgon said silently, in a mournful tone. “Where do you wish them to be laid?” he asked after a slight pause.
Keegan raised his head, blinked the tears from his eyes, and looked toward the meadow near the Dragon's Forest. It was all ash now, but he remembered his mother going out to pick herbs and wildflowers there. He remembered that she once had said that when her time came, she would wish to be laid in the meadow where the wildflowers grew the most, facing the east. Then she would always see the rising sun and smell the flowers in the spring.
"I will show you where to bury my mother and father first. Then we shall bury the rest.” Keegan gently placed his mother’s head on the ground then stood. He stared at his mother's lifeless face for a long moment then at his father's. He vowed that he would not rest until he had avenged their deaths, until their murderers’ blood stained the ground.
He then turned and marched solemnly to the spot in the meadow where his mother and father would rest together, forever, happily, in everlasting peace, where the wildflowers would always grow.
Go ye to rest in land evergreen
Where love abides and peace is king,
Go there and wait patiently for me,
For I will come unto thee.
The world was harsh and cruel to thee;
(Go now and rest eternally)
Go, rest from life's hardships and plight,
For I will come when time is right,
I will come and hold thee in mine arms,
And enjoy rest in paradise charms.
The world was harsh and cruel to thee;
(Go now and rest eternally)
Go to sleep, oh, dearest ones,
Rest you in Dayspring's gentle arms,
Go ye to rest in land evergreen,
Where love abides and peace is king.
Go now and rest eternally.
This was the song that Keegan had learned to sing at the passing of every Wovlen life. Now he sang it, facing the west and one hundred some graves, alone. He had tried to keep count of the dead, but he gave up when he lost his morning meal.
There had been no sign of Braidden or Alia among the dead, so Keegan dared to hope that they had made it to the mountains. He could not find Boyden, his uncle, among the dead either. Perhaps he had also escaped. He dearly hoped that some of his family was alive, but he wondered if they could ever be reunited.
While Keegan thought about these things, he looked up to the sky as Pharrgon glided in to land. He should have been awestruck at the sight of the beautiful golden dragon gracefully landing on the blackened plain, but Keegan felt nothing. He felt as bare and empty as the burnt, flat land around him that had once been his home. He felt cold, numb, and lifeless, just like all of the bodies that he had buried. Lifeless: no pain, no thrill, no hate. Just nothing.
Pharrgon lumbered up to the two head graves that Keegan stood before. He opened his mouth, and two large stones, as tall as a man, dropped to the ground. They were like a mass of huge crystals that had all been welded together. Some of their crystal spikes were red while others were pure white and twinkled in the fading sunlight.
"I brought these stones to mark your mother and father's resting places,” Pharrgon said quietly. He stared at the stones for a moment then looked at Keegan's face. “I could find no more than these,” he added, looking for a sign of approval or disapproval in Keegan's countenance.
"Thank you, Pharrgon,” Keegan said quietly, not moving a single muscle otherwise. “They look fit for a king and queen.”
The dragon bowed his head slightly then pulled a mass of dirt away from the head of the graves. He placed the large stones in the holes and filled them in again, packing the dirt in tightly around them. “Now no one will be able to move these stones for many years to come,” he said when he had finished. He backed away in reverence then turned and began to walk away.
The crystals of the large stones twinkled brilliantly with different colors in the fading light of day. It was as if a thousand diamonds were encrusted in the large crystals, and they shined brighter than the stars in the sky.
“They are fit for a king and queen,” Keegan whispered, as he continued to stare at the glittering stones. He stood for a long while at the foot of his parents’ graves, while Pharrgon wandered about and sniffed the ground curiously.
The dragon finally stopped at a certain place and snorted in disgust. Sparks and flame shot out of his nose as he snorted. “A Dorr Wolf has been here, as I feared. Their race is not extinct,” he said, with a note of disappointment on the latter part. When Keegan heard Pharrgon make the statement, he raised his head. He saw where Pharrgon stood and became very interested and walked over to the dragon's side.
"Some of its blood was spilled right here,” Pharrgon said, and he dug his enormous talon into the spot. Keegan looked around. Even though everything around him was burnt, he knew that this was the place where he had cut that horrible creature with his dagger.
"Your scent is also here,” the dragon looked at Keegan with inquiring golden eyes.
"A strange creature almost had me in its jaws,” Keegan explained as he pulled out his dagger. “I cut it somewhere. The beast knocked my father off of his horse, which led to my father's doom.” Keegan began to feel hate welling up inside of him as he remembered that moment in the past. He was glad that he felt some feeling at last. He liked the feeling of hate. It made him feel strong, and it took his mind off of the things that made him feel numb.
"What did the creature look like?” Pharrgon asked.
Keegan thought back to when he saw the beast knock his father off his horse. His mind then jumped to when he was running for the forest and made the quick blow that kept the beast from clamping its jaws around him. He could not easily forget such a creature. The memories would always haunt him.
"The beast was the size of a horse, had hunched shoulders, and a mid-sized tail. It had brown bristled hair with three black stripes on its shoulders, and I think it had three black stripes on its nose as well. The hair on the shoulders was longer than on the rest of its body. I remember that the eyes were red, and its breath smelled like hell."
The dragon hissed, and Keegan jumped back from hot saliva that fell from the dragon's mouth. “It is a young Dorr Wolf. Three stripes on its hump and nose means that it is only three years old.” The dragon hissed again, and he made a series of rattles and clicks in the back of his throat, before calming down. “Legend says that Dorr wolves come from the underworld. They are as good a tracker and hunter as a dragon, and they are one of the few creatures whose teeth can pierce through a mature dragon’s scales."
Both Keegan and the dragon were silent for a moment as they reflected on this. Finally, Keegan looked toward his parents’ graves and then around at all of the others that stretched out before him. His eyes rested on a fresh mound of dirt that Torry lay under, and a lump formed in his throat as he thought about the painful death his best friend must have suffered, but he had no more tears to let out. He wasn't even sure if he could scream now. He had let all of that out as well.
"The Dorr Wolf is still alive, isn't it?” Keegan asked silently.
"Yes. It still draws living breath,” Pharrgon answered slowly.
Keegan sighed and turned around to the north. He stared at the great White Mountains that loomed before him with their glistening peeks pressing against the blue sky. Pharrgon turned his massive body around and looked at the large, snow-capped mountains as well. "You are most welcome to stay with me, if you would so wish.”
The words from the dragon's deep, rich voice seemed to linger in the air. They took Keegan by surprise, and he turned to look at the dragon with wide eyes. "Why would a dragon want a dragon slayer's son to live with him?” Keegan asked. “Why would you have a simple human live with you? A human whose father killed one of your friends and took this stone?” Keegan pulled his ring out from inside his shirt, took it off from around his neck, and held it up for the dragon to see well.
Pharrgon did not look at the ring, but his eyes, filled with a strange sort of pride and love, stayed on Keegan. "I care not that you were the son of a dragon slayer. I care not that you are human. I care not that your father took the lives of many dragons.” Pharrgon's face softened, and his eyes began to sparkle. They seemed to fill with a sort of golden glow. “However, I do care about you. I do care that you have a dragon stone, for that has meaning for you in the future. I do wish to be your guardian.” Pharrgon brought his head down to eye level with Keegan. “But the choice is yours. You must decide whether to stay with me or to follow your own kind.”