The Age Of The Dragon

By

The Prophesy of the Magi Landring

in the 252nd year of the Tantauric Era

Valleys rise, Mountains fall.

Rivers will dry, Trees grow tall.

One thousand Winters deaths,

One thousand Summer rebirths.

While we pass, darkness reigns.

Until Boy and Lord clash, light cannot regain.

1.

The Cliffs of Buen Sea, near the Cottage.

The year 1252 of the Tantauric Era.

As sun was setting over the eastern mountains of Buen, fourteen-year old Arydir Santos watched it from the cliff-edge by his home. The ocean below splashed onto the beach, the enriched air was filled with a salty smell. Behind him in the fir-tree forest a crow cawed. He inhaled; the scene was breath-taking. After another fifteen minutes passed he turned and entered the cottage where he and his mother lived. His father had died many years ago, after he was born, and his mother had taken him away from the city and they lived by themselves.

Having been grown up in isolation and never once seen another human being other than his mother, Arydir had only seen a fairy in the forest, and the two had talked about a city called Riceport after she told him about it.

"Riceport," she had said, fluttering down on to a flower then closing her eyes. "With its grand towers, that reach high into the skies the pinnacles with their ropes tied across each other, high above the docks." She breathed deeply in. "Ah, it's grand docks that stretch for miles, the piers filled with massive Man'O Wars, to the Wind Catchers, to the galleys, the schooners. And the people, the people from all over the world come together and trade." She stood up, brushed her skirt, fixed her hair, and smiled at Arydir. "It's getting late. I must go. I'll see you later, okay?"

Entranced by the description, Arydir made the accident of asking his mother if they could go to Riceport. He spent the whole next week in his room, thinking about why he should not talk to strangers, his mother's favorite pot that she was holding when he asked her, and how sore his bottom felt.

When he came out, his mother hugged him and said, "I just want you to know that I love you, and don't want anything to happen to you."

He never saw the fairy again.

Arydir had dirty-blond hair, and topaz colored eyes. He was almost six feet tall, and his mother said that since he grew every day, that he'd never stop growing and one day might reach the sky. But recently, she had taken to her bed--sick. It was a good thing he had paid attention when she taught him how to cook, or they would've starved to death by now.

Entering the house, he put the basket of eggs on the wooden table that he and his mother had carved years ago. The table top was shaped in an odd boxy-circle. The milk he placed below a window before he went into the shaded room where his mother lay in her bed. Her eyes were closed, but she opened them when he closed the door.

"Arydir, is that you?" she asked. "Come closer." She held out her hand for him to take it.

It was a ghastly white color, long and lanky, no longer the rosy color it had once been. He took it in both of his palms, and nearly jumped with fright when he felt a icy cold touch.

"Mother," he said, pulling the wool blankets they had made years ago, when they had a sheep, over her body. "You're terribly cold."

"I feel cold," her lip trembled when she said, "My boy, Arydir... I'm dying."

"I know." He looked at the pain in her eyes. The happy, dancing eyes that she once had were now drooping, and crow feet were under her eyelids. Her hair was stringy, no longer the long flowing gold-blonde hair it used to be. Water started to appear in her eyes, and this was the first time Arydir saw her cry. He had heard her cry before, but not in his presence. A single tear rolled down her cheek. Arydir reached up with his finger and wiped the tear away.

"I'm here Mother. Don't leave me. I'll take care of you, and you'll get better."

She closed her eyes and shook her head. "No, my boy, Arydir... you can't do anything. No one can. Death cannot be stopped. It happens to everyone."

Looking firmly at her, he swore, "Then I will find a way to stop death."

She smiled, grasped his hand tightly, and swallowed. "Arydir... when I die, there will be nothing here for you. You must go to Buen, the nearest village. It is ten miles north of here. I marked the trees with red paint for a trail when I went there. The world is a dangerous place... especially for a boy like you."

"I'm not a boy anymore, Mother. I'll be fifteen in a month."

"Which makes it even more dangerous." She looked at Arydir. "If anyone asks you, you must tell them that you are seventeen."

"You taught me not to lie, Mother." He squeezed her hand. "I can't."

"Arydir. Listen to me; you could be killed telling someone you're fifteen, fourteen or sixteen. You are the only one that age in the world...the dark world..." She closed her eyes.

Scared, Arydir squeezed her hand even tighter. "What do you mean? I'm the only one that age in the world? Mother, why aren't there children my age?"

Her eyes fluttered open as she cried, "The Prophesy. Remember… I will always be forever with you."

Arydir's head dropped onto his mother's still stomach, her heart stopped beating. Her hand went limp in his. He squeezed it, hoping his faith in him bringing her back would be sufficient. Her chest never rose up, her eyes never fluttered open, her lips never quaked. Death had stolen the last family and only friend he had.

Hours later he stood up, still holding on to his mother's hand in his. When he was standing his full height he released his hold. The cold, limp hand dropped to the side of the bed softly and silently. A tear fell down his face as he turned and left his mother's room. He rubbed the tear away from his eye as he looked around the main room. Everything now seemed strange and distant. He even felt a little sick, and even a new type of feeling he'd never felt before... lonely. True he had been alone in the past, but it was temporarily.

Eventually the sun came up over the mountains in the west. The cottage he'd grown up in seemed sad and gloomy and disheveled, as Arydir wandered around the once familiar rooms, and saw the light of the sunrise creep on the walls, and shadows fade out of the corners. It grew slowly light indoors, and suddenly Arydir felt a new renewal of hope. He went out and walked down to the cliffs.