[Mkguild] Healing Wounds in Arabarb (3 of ?)

[C. Matthias]

And now we get to meet one of my favorite characters in the story!

Healing Wounds in Arabarb
By Charles Matthias




February 11, 708 CR


The brothers were used to eating what they could scrounge along the 
seashore without any human dignity or conveniences so the long 
journey along the coastline of the Dragon Mountains toward Arabarb 
provided no sacrifices there, nor in terms of sleeping arrangements 
which often consisted of nestling together in whatever rocky hollow 
they could find above the tides. What they weren't used to was having 
a dragon accompany them.

Pharcellus was a pleasant enough fellow... for a dragon. He usually 
flew much higher in the sky, and flying faster than they, would 
double back and circle around in a wide perimeter to make sure that 
all was clear for miles beyond what even the sea birds could see. And 
with his light gray underbelly, the winter sky proved a wonderful 
place for him to hide. But he wanted to eat meals with them and also 
sleep nearby. Both proved awkward even in the best of conditions. 
When they were flying near human settlements, the sudden appearance 
of a youthful and eager dragon tended to cause a bit of a stir.

"You know we're supposed to be discreet," Quoddy reminded him after a 
week of journeying together in which two times they'd witnessed 
villagers fleeing inside homes while what few soldiers they had would 
ready their bows.

But their companion was nonplussed, even when picking an arrow out of 
his hide. "They call these the Dragon Mountains for a reason. I'm 
neither the first nor the last dragon they shall see."

Pharcellus had been assigned to be their point of contact with 
Metamor. He could easily fly the many leagues back and forth from the 
extreme south of Arabarb to their home. Misha had wanted a more 
seasoned and sedate dragon, one less prone to sating a sense of 
curiosity that would shame a cat, but when the dragons who 
volunteered their services to Metamor decided who would take a 
particular mission there was no way to argue. As a rule, you simply 
did not argue with dragons.

Not that Quoddy, Lubec, and Machias didn't try to reason with him. 
Pharcellus did at least consent to not swooping in quite so 
dramatically when they passed by the numerous fishing villages that 
dotted the scraggly coastline. And he stayed completely out of sight 
when they passed Brathas, the one city of any size hugging the rocky 
promontories facing the Sea of Stars. But once they were past that he 
returned to his exuberant self. He loved to talk and wanted to know 
all about their adventures to the south.

"You know, you're a dragon," Machais pointed out one evening as they 
nestled into a makeshift rookery beneath an awning of granite while 
the surf raked the edge of the flat shelf. They selected it only 
because it was just big enough for Pharcellus to squeeze his 
serpentine body in. He had curled at the back with his wings tucked 
in tight, tail closing around them to keep the waves from splashing 
them. Bright blue eyes underneath crimson ridges regarded them with 
delight and curiosity. "Don't you have lots of stories to tell?"

Pharcellus's reptilian face creased into an unmistakeable smile and 
he replied, "But I've heard my own stories a hundred times or more. 
There's one about Duke Thomas's grandfather, my very first mission 
for Metamor in fact, and a brave and daring mission it was indeed, 
that I have recounted two hundred and fifty four times. And I've 
started it seventeen more before one of the other dragons groaned 
that they were tired of hearing it over and over again. I want to 
hear your stories. They're new to me."

And then, in a less impish voice, he lowered his head a little closer 
to the three birds and added, "Besides, I'm usually carrying 
Metamorians to and fro. It's so nice to have fellow fliers to travel 
with. I just... I just want to be friends that's all. Don't friends 
tell each other stories?"

"Just how old are you, Pharcellus?" Lubec asked in between shaking 
his wings to dry off.

"I will turn seventy-seven this August!" He tilted his gray-scaled 
head to one side, the long saw-toothed ridge on his back rippling 
with a sheen of moonlight. "I know that's old for you, but my kind 
ages more slowly. The elders promise to tell me why when I'm older." 
He shrugged his one shoulder and then lowered his long neck to the 
ground so that he actually had to look up at them. "So, could you 
please tell me a story? I love hearing about your adventures. It 
sounds so exciting to fly south and see the rest of Galendor!"

Once Quoddy realized that he could treat Pharcellus like a younger 
brother things went more smoothly. It seemed to satisfy some strange 
dragon desire the gray-scale possessed, and it amused his two 
brothers to no end. By the time they neared the southern shores of 
Arabarb they were all very glad for his company and began to regret 
the fact that their time together would soon come to an end. Once 
they left the mountain shores all safety would be behind them. Their 
sojourn in camaraderie would be over. The spycraft would begin.

The day came sooner than they would like. Quoddy estimated that it 
was half-way through the second week of February when they reached 
the final range of mountains before the ground eased into a long 
valley of hills, culverts, and fjords all draped in coniferous 
forests buried beneath a wintry gown of snow and ice. The land was 
quiet and still but for the arctic waves lashing the still rocky 
coastline. Pharcellus found a perch on a promontory of granite and 
invited the birds to nest at his feet.

"Arabarb," Pharcellus intoned somberly as he reclined on his haunches 
with tail curling around before his toes. It was the first time he 
had ever spoken with even a hint of dread. "This place used to be 
friendly. Now... now it is the home of one of our enemies. I cannot 
go any further, friends."

"Now it is up to us," Quoddy agreed, trying to muster enthusiasm, or 
at the very least, his courage. "There is a lot of coastline to 
cover. Does everyone remember the signals for the resistance?"

Machias bobbed his orange and black beak a few times, while Lubec 
shook the snow from his wings. The black cormorant then looked to his 
older brother and nodded once. "And our assignments. This is going to 
be a miserable summer; at least we won't have to stay here when 
winter comes again."

"Summer is five months away in this land," Machias added with a 
chirping squawk. "At least it shouldn't be too hard to find others of 
our kind. I miss the flocks."

Quoddy peered up at the dragon and cawed. "How will we let you know 
that we have a message to send back to Metamor?" And after a single 
breath he added, "And how long will it take you to go to Metamor and 
back again?"

The dragon turned his head to the east and stared at the range of 
peaks, craggy and forbidding. He rumbled deep in his chest and smoke 
curled from his nostrils. "A week and a half if I fly over the 
mountains. It will probably be less if I find another dragon willing 
to carry the message in my stead. We dragons of the mountains are 
very fond of Metamor and her people." This last he said with thick 
clawed paw over his chest where his heart would be. He returned his 
blue-eyed gaze to them and his snout creased in a familiar reptilian 
grin. "I cannot stay here or what few folk live here will begin to 
speak of the dragon at their doorstep. But I will watch this place. 
If you leave a fish here, I will see it."

"Won't a real bird just come and eat it?" Lubec asked.

Pharcellus laughed a booming but restrained laugh. A plume of smoke 
poured from his mouth and he grinned around the dark vapor. "Oh, no 
bird will dare come to this rock after I have finished what I intend 
this night! You'll know why when you come with your first fish, but 
don't let the fear stop you. I would never harm my friends."

The three brothers looked warily at each other but accepted their 
companion's assurance. Quoddy shifted about on the dragon's foot and 
cawed, "There is still plenty of daylight left today. We should 
probably be off."

"I will ask Angernil to say prayers for you, and may your Eli and 
Yahshua protect you on your quest." Pharcellus lowered his head and 
arms and gently touched each of them with a single claw. "You are my 
friends. Call me if you need me."

With that he gently scuffled his feet. They hopped off and moved to a 
protected alcove on the promontory. Pharcellus rose to all fours, 
walked to the edge of the shelf, spread his wings and jumped into the 
air with a powerful thrust. His tail nearly slapped the rock as he 
bolted up into the gray sky. They watched him for a minute before he 
disappeared amongst the clouds.

"Well," groused Machias, "I suppose it's time we started out."

"It would have been nice to summer together at Metamor," Lubec said 
with a long sigh. "But I guess we'll just have more stories to tell 
when this is over."

"Exactly," Quoddy assured his younger brothers with a gentle wing 
hug. "Now let's go find the resistance. The sooner Calephas is 
overthrown the better!"


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May He bless you and keep you in His grace and love,

Charles Matthias


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