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Fiction » Fantasy » The Story Teller font: B s : A A A . width: full 3/4 1/2
Author: Droakir
Fiction Rated: K+ - English - Fantasy/Adventure - Published: 12-06-08 - Updated: 12-06-08 - Complete - id:2605156

The Story Teller

by N. Rackley

NOTE: Originally published in Submerged Vol. VI, this was a piece that I wrote as a High School sophomore.

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The children all gathered around the old man. It was nightfall, and the silver rays of the blue starlit sky trickled down upon the cold world below. A fire crackled in the middle of this dark abyss, bringing to life the dancing shadows of trees creating the illusion of a silent festival. The smell of the bone-warming blaze kept the spirits of the younglings alive as they sat around and listened to the silence only stifled by the distant howl of a wolf or the cry of a widow screech-owl.

The wind gave the forest movement as the trees rustled and shook in the now age-long play of the seasons. It made the firelight flicker and the air feel cold. The children sat near the old man, surrounding the fire in their little group.

"Now then," said the old man, scratching his rough gray beard and staring deeply into the light of the flame, "What story do you all want to hear?"

After a long minute's silence, one child exclaimed, "Tell us of the dragon!" Another piped in by saying, "Tell us of the boy!" Upon hearing this, the other children lifted their heads and in unison chimed, "Yes, yes! Tell us!"

The old man smiled as he looked at their faces. His own eyes twinkled with delight as their voices rose above them and drifted among the winds and into the void of darkness. He raised his hand and they all quieted down. He sighed, as if recalling a very distant memory.

The firelight reflected brightly in his dark eyes as he tried very hard to recall all the details of the story. He then looked each child in the eye, took a deep breath, and started to speak.

"It happened many years ago. A young boy who was staying with his father's company was traveling in the Eastern Mountains of Telemiin. The sky was cold, just coming out of a dark wintry season. The hills were cold and desolate, like the color of agate with just a hint of vegetation.

"This time, the company had stopped to rest briefly at a stream and it was a custom of the younger children to take a small nap when anyone stopped for break, and this one young boy was no different. He had light sandy hair and eyes that seemed to be both light and dark at the same time.

"The sun was high when the company stopped, and several of the children took shelter under the dark, sparse bushes that grew near the stream. Later, when it was time to depart, an adult would go around and wake the children so they could prepare to leave.

"The boy in question, however, was under a particularly thick and densely packed bunch of branches. When the adult came around to wake everyone, she did not see him, and passed him by.

"The company left, with no one knowing that they had left the boy behind, alone, slumbering peacefully under the boughs of the small shrub.

"The boy, having slept all day due to the exhaustion of the trek, only awoke when he felt the first few drops of rain splash on his face. He rose, rubbed his eyes, and then panicked with fear - his friends were gone, his family... he was was alone, and didn't know where to go! He panicked even more at the flash of lightning, and, disoriented, ran onward into the torrent of the storm.

"The boy did not know how far he ran, or drained all of his fear and despair, turning it into a surging energy that made him go even faster. The wind whistled in his ears, and the bright, brief, searing flashes of light guided his way.

"In the darkness, the boy slipped on a patch of mud, throwing him sprawling onto his face. It was not for a few minutes that he realized that he had cut his forearm open. A red gash stretched from his elbow to his wrist, and the blood hadn't yet started to appear.

"Somehow, the boy found his way to a great cave. He was dripping wet and took shelter in the opening. With all the pain, it was hard to believe that he slept all night.

"The next morning, when he awoke, he found a great reptilian creature standing above him. It had a long neck, great silvery emerald scales, and large leathery wings. The creature had never before been seen by man, with its spike covered back and elegant head with two great horns protruding from either side. The boy was frightened when he saw a bit of smoke curl up from the creature's lip.

"The boy struggled to his feet, and after watching the monster back up slightly, he turned and ran out of the cave. It was not long, however, when he realized that his arm did not hurt anymore. As he looked at where the cut had been, the only thing to be revealed was a thin silvery scar that ran the length of his arm. Sighing at the brief encounter, the boy tried to find his way back to the cavern but he never could. Eventually the boy found his company, and for the rest of his life, he thought about these creatures, later to be called dragons."

The man stretched in his seat, and looked around at the children. Some had fallen asleep, and others were starting. Feeling very warm, the man took off his leather hide jacket, leaving him in a light green short-sleeved tunic. One boy looked at him for quite some time, a puzzling look on his face.

"Is the story true?" the boy asked, looking into the old man's eyes, "Was it real?"

The old man shifted his weight in his seat and set his hand down on the shoulder of the boy. "Some believe it is," he said smiling, "And some don't." The boy looked at him.

"Well, I do," said the boy as he pattered off to his tent, "I do..."

The man stood up from the fire, jacket slung over his shoulder. He turned and stepped into the darkness. As he walked away, one last faint glimmer of the firelight fell upon him, just barely revealing a long silver scar that ran down the length of his arm.



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