[Mkguild] Healing Wounds in Arabarb (7 of ?)

[C. Matthias]

Ack, did it again!

Healing Wounds in Arabarb
By Charles Matthias


April 6, 708 CR


The journey across the Dragon Mountains proceeded 
without incident. Pharcellus spoke only rarely 
while they were in flight, and Lindsey no more 
than a word or two to let the dragon know that he 
was well. The furs he bore and the heat of the 
gray-scale's neck and shoulders served to keep 
him warm despite the cold mountain air and 
driving wind. It was little wonder that many 
dragons could breathe fire; how else were they to 
stay warm when flying so high in such cold places?

Pharcellus kept his promise of three stops a day, 
but these stops were often on high mountain 
ridges that afforded Lindsey little privacy. His 
companion kept his head turned when the new boy 
relieved himself, but the rest of the time at 
their stops kept up a constant twittering of his 
tongue. What they couldn't say during flight 
gushed forth in their brief pauses in the long journey.

Lindsey spoke a little of the months spent 
traveling to Marzac and the dangers and wonders 
they encountered along the way. A few times he 
began to cry when he thought of Zhypar and how 
strained their time on that journey had been. If 
he'd had any inkling that the kangaroo would not 
return, he would never have treated him so 
poorly. Pharcellus gently laid a draconic paw on 
his back at those times, head lowered in sympathy.

The dragon, in his turn, spoke of the mountains, 
his fellow dragons, and of the many things he had 
done for Metamor in years past. And he also told 
him of the many things he had seen in Arabarb in 
the last two months. He described the sea birds, 
especially Quoddy who they would meet first in 
exacting detail, with a delightful fondness that 
made Lindsey's boyish face smile.

Those little conversations they shared made 
Lindsey feel young, not just in body, but in 
spirit again. He'd never really known why 
Pharcellus had been so friendly and attached to 
his family – who could ever explain the why of a 
dragon? But without Zhypar, this was as close a 
connection as Lindsey had had to his family in years.

“Have you heard anything about my family?” 
Lindsey asked him as they hunkered down to rest 
in a small cave on their third night out from 
Metamor. A few logs Pharcellus had collected in 
his arms along the way provided for a warm fire and a somber orange light.

Pharcellus lifted his head and craned his neck 
toward the roof of the cave. A bit of smoke 
trailed from his nostrils and he said in the 
quietest voice he'd ever heard the dragon use, “Nay. I have heard nothing.”

Lindsey pulled his legs close to his chin – he 
still wasn't used to it being clean shaven again 
– and huddled with that miserable thought. But 
his friend added in a slightly more hopeful tone, 
“But I have not had a chance to look for them 
either. I did not know until a few days past that 
you would be coming back with me.” His draconic 
face creased into a smile, which despite the 
numerous fangs, comforted the childish Lindsey. 
“We can look for them together once we've made 
contact with the resistance. They might know.”

“Andrig was involved,” Lindsey noted with a bit 
more hope in his voice too. “No matter what, we 
should learn something from them.”

“We'll be there tomorrow evening. I'll leave a 
message for Quoddy, and then together we can go.”

Lindsey pondered for a moment just how Pharcellus 
intended to join them when he recalled his 
appearance in the Long House. He laughed despite 
himself. “We'll have to do something with your 
hair. It's even more unruly than mine.”

“But I was so proud of the way I made it!”

Lindsey leaned against the dragon's flanks and 
rubbed one hand along his belly scales. “We can 
put it in a braid. You looked the right age for 
it. If necessary, we can probably pass ourselves off as brothers.”

Pharcellus blinked and for a moment a look of 
stupefied wonder filled his blue eyes. The dragon 
turned his head toward the roof of the cave again 
and his mouth hung open in wordless mystery. 
Lindsey had never seen him look so profoundly 
anguished before. Bewildered, he asked, “What did I say?”

His friend swung his neck around and smiled, the 
moment passed. “Brothers! An excellent idea! I 
should have thought of it myself.” His snout 
snaked forward until he nuzzled Lindsey along the 
cheek very gently. “Now get some sleep. I think 
we'll start an ever earlier tomorrow. I'm anxious to arrive.”

And so Lindsey, feeling somewhat reassured by the 
return of Pharcellus's jovial nature, slept 
nestled against his belly between his paws, with 
his head and tail curled around to keep him 
surrounded by warmth. His dreams were pleasant 
enough each night, though anxious thoughts 
disrupted his dreams of flying each time.

The final day of flight passed quickly. They 
stared well before the sun rose, and after a 
brief meal of bread, meat, and cheese – 
Pharcellus found a mountain goat for himself – 
they flew just high enough in the sky to avoid 
the mountains. Lindsey watched the sun rise far 
behind them, and then arc overhead and start back 
down before they were finally clear of the ridges 
to the north. There, in the early afternoon, he 
could see the long sloping hills, culverts, and 
forested gambols of Arabarb. Though he didn't cry 
this time, his heart ached at the sight. It had 
been ten years ago now that he'd left for Metamor 
to aid the people there. Only months after his 
departure Nasoj's army under the command of 
Calephas had crushed the old king and taken firm control of his homeland.

Lindsey felt his blood run hot as the misery 
turned to fierce determination. This would be the 
first day of the end of Calephas's reign. That he swore to himself.

Once Arabarb was in sight, Pharcellus flew a 
little lower, wending between the mountain peaks 
for a good hour before he finally reached a tall 
ledge on which he could land. Once they set down, 
Pharcellus turned his head back and said, “I'm 
going to signal for Quoddy. I will return with 
him as soon as he sees the signal. If he doesn't 
see it in a few hours I'll come back anyway to check on you.”

Lindsey climbed out of the harness and unhitched 
his gear. Pharcellus noted and added, “You won't 
be able to climb down from here. Nor will 
anything be able to climb up to reach you.”

“Just in case,” Lindsey replied as he finished 
undoing the knots and slinging the pack over his 
shoulder. “I'd like to be prepared.”

“Of course.” The dragon snorted a bit of smoke 
toward the mountain face rising up from the 
ledge. “There should be a small cave you can take shelter in until I return.”

Lindsey climbed down and stretched his legs once 
on solid ground. He patted the dragon's neck with 
one hand and smiled. “Thank you, Pharcellus. I will see you and Quoddy soon.”

The dragon's grin was fierce with delight. “And then we can plan!”

Lindsey stepped back to the wall as his friend 
launched into the air. He felt a pang of jealousy 
at the sight, but he didn't have wings so put it 
out of his mind. He found the cave and nestled 
within, drawing out his dagger and hatchet and 
keeping them close. He then pulled a blanket free 
and wrapped himself within its warmth and huddled down to wait the hours out.

His youthful face was already chapped by four 
days of flight over the Dragon Mountains, so he 
did not bother to protect that from the cool air 
blowing across the grassy ledge. The breeze was 
slight but insistent. It brought with it the 
scent of pine needles from below and the scent of 
delicate flowers that laced the grassy slopes. He 
recognized several just from those brief wisps of 
odor. He recalled days long past when his mother 
would lead him, then a little girl, up those 
slopes to pick just a few of those flowers to 
make a bouquet to bring home. Their modest 
cottage would smell so fresh and bright for weeks after.

And after an especially bitter winter when they 
had to keep not just the dogs but the hogs as 
well inside their home, that sort of fragrance was all the more welcome.

At least, he thought with little laugh lines 
teasing the edge of his lips, they'd never brought the cows inside.

He could see over the edge of the ledge the vast 
coniferous forest that spread the length of 
southern Arabarb. Large patches had been cleared 
for grazing fields a little further to the north, 
but the lands at the feet of the mountains were 
left wild and always had been. A tradition of his 
people to honor the Lhinnorm, the dragons of the 
mountains who were their friends, or at least, who were friendly.

It would be a hike of some hours before they 
reached the southernmost settlements. If 
Pharcellus returned in time, they just might be 
able to reach one before dark. Though the equinox 
had only been a few weeks ago, already the days 
were a few hours longer than the nights. If Misha 
had to send his rescue team in, they would find 
it difficult to move in secret with only a few hours of night.

Lindsey leaned his head against the cave wall, 
keeping the thick blanket between him and the 
cold stone. What could he expect to find when he 
did walk the many paths of his homeland? He 
pondered the question for some time with no clear 
answer. The reports that Andwyn had passed along, 
and what Pharcellus had supplemented had not left 
him with much of a picture. His many letters to 
his parents over the years had spoken of 
soldiers, even Lutins, ruining acres of forest 
they relied upon. Yet in all that, Calephas had 
seemed to content himself with holding the Arabas 
river, the pass to the Giantdowns, and the nearby 
provinces. Was that still the case?

These questions percolated in his mind for a long 
time. As he considered the many things familiar 
to him from his youth, he found himself 
daydreaming of running through the grass fields 
jumping over sheep and even a few cows with his 
brother in tow. Or the long days in the woods 
when his father taught them to hunt game and how 
to swing an axe with deadly purpose. Smelling his 
mother's cooking, and then helping her to sew new garments or mend torn ones.

Lindsey spent a good bit of time distracted by 
the memory of the day that Pharcellus had joined 
them for one of their feats days. The dragon had 
reclined in the field and helped them light their 
bonfire. He took especial care in turning the 
boar on a spit to make sure he was thoroughly 
cooked. All the while Lindsey and little Andrig 
had climbed over him – even then he'd been big 
enough for them to climb on and pretended they 
were riding him through the sky. Never once did 
their parents fear for their safety; Pharcellus had been gentleness itself.

But, even those pleasant were interrupted by the 
day that a stranger from the distant south had 
come traveling through their land. Attacked and 
wounded by a bear that Lindsey's father had 
driven off, the stranger rested and recovered in 
their home. He spoke such sweet poetry to the 
red-haired young woman tending his wounds. That 
girl spent every moment she could with the 
stranger, listening to his voice, admiring his 
face, and pondering the deep sadness she saw in his eyes.

Lindsey's fists clenched in the blanket as he 
remembered how that stranger stayed with them, 
ever inquisitive of their ways, and ever eager to 
stay at that young woman's side. When the seasons 
turned, the stranger-no-more promised to return 
soon, and the woman had heard the word marriage 
uttered between him and her father. The woman 
went to Metamor to meet him there, but the armies 
of Nasoj under Calephas's commanded conquered her 
homeland. Not long after, and before her beloved 
could meet her, Nasoj assaulted Metamor.

And then the Battle of Three Gates made a man out 
of that love-struck woman, and their hearts were broken.

Lindsey cried as he thought of the only one he'd 
ever loved. It had been over three months now 
since his death, but still the pain gnawed at his 
heart. “Oh, Zhypar... I miss you,” he whimpered 
into the cold air between his sobs.

It took some effort, but Lindsey was able to 
marshal his thoughts into a coherent whole and he 
even formulated a sort of plan by the time that 
he caught sight of Pharcellus circling through 
the air in a wandering zig-zag. He shifted 
position to watch him better, wondering for a 
while what he was doing before he realized that 
his friends was pacing a small white bird that 
flew considerably lower in the sky. Lindsey 
smiled and felt a surge of relief. It was the gull Quoddy.

He stood up and waited just outside the cave for 
the two fliers to arrive. Pharcellus spread his 
wings wide and landed with a solid whump that 
made the boy grab the rock behind him to steady 
himself. The dragon puffed warm smoke in his 
direction and his blue eyes brightened like a 
pair of dinner plates filled with blueberry 
preserves. “I have returned! Are you warm enough still?”

“Aye,” Lindsey nodded, pulling the blanket close 
around his shoulders. “It would be warmer if I 
had any sun here, but this whole ledge is in the shade.”

The dragon glared at the ledge as if it had 
deliberately hid itself from the sun's warming 
rays. “I thought you would like to see your home while you waited.”

Lindsey smiled faintly to his much larger friend. 
“I did. I remember many things. Thank you.”

Pharcellus smiled one more time, then craned his 
neck behind him and moved out of the way, long 
tail swinging over Lindsey's head as he turned 
around. The gull swooped down and settled on the 
grassy ledge with a quick flap of his wings. He 
shook himself once, then began to swell in size. 
Soon he was as a little bigger than Lindsey with 
little fingers at the end of his wing like 
Jessica had, a wide almost human chest, and long 
legs ending in webbed, yellow feet. He folded his 
gray feathered wings behind his back and bobbed 
his yellow beak toward Lindsey. “You must be 
Lindsey. My name is Quoddy. Pharcellus tells me 
that Metamor has sent you to kill Calephas.”

Lindsey's eyes widened but he still nodded. “I do 
not look like much, but I was not always a child. 
Nor a man. I grew up here in Arabarb.”

Quoddy's intense yellow eyes widened slightly in 
his white face, and a slight smile creased the 
edge of his beak. “Well, then you have a very 
beautiful country. My brothers Lubec and Machias 
think so too. But how do you think you are going 
to be able to get close to Calephas?”

“I am a handsome young boy and he is a sick, 
deviant of a man. I will use his vice against him.”

Quoddy, if it were possible, appeared to pale. “That's horrible!”

“Aye, it is horrible. But it is what I am going to do.”

“And we're here to help make sure he can,” Pharcellus said in a low rumble.

The gull began to nod slowly as he swallowed. 
“I... I guess so. What do you want to do?”

Lindsey looked toward the forests and frowned. 
“Andwyn told me that you have contacted 
individuals in the resistance here in southern 
Arabarb. I need to meet with them. Can we reach them tonight on foot?”

Quoddy walked to the edge of the ledge and peered 
over the woods with a slightly tilted head. He 
squawked once and then half hopped half flew back 
to them. “It's a long walk, but we can do it. Are 
you sure you don't want Pharcellus to fly you?”

Lindsey shook his head. “Just to somewhere we can 
climb down. Pharcellus, show him.”

The dragon leaned back on his hind legs and 
lifting his forepaws in a gesture of welcome, he 
quickly shrank down in size, the gray of his 
scales melting into a nondescript tunic, while 
the red highlighting his eye ridges and spinal 
saw turned into a wild mass of hair and long 
sash. Where before had been a beast of legend now 
stood a young man old enough to begin courting or even marrying.

Quoddy almost fell on his tail feathers in 
surprise. “I didn't know you could change shape! 
Why didn't you do that when we traveled together? 
It could have made some of the sleeping 
arrangements a little more comfortable.”

But the new human just laughed, a hearty pleasant 
sound that seemed out of place in the barren 
scrub of the mountainside. “I only learned this 
art on my last trip back to Metamor. The elders 
of my kin finally granted my request after years 
of saying I was too young to learn it. It's nice 
to be able to speak to you both face to face.”

“We're still up too high to climb down safely,” 
Lindsey pointed out with a growing impatience. 
“So change back until we're down there.”

Pharcellus's human face appeared to pout for a 
moment, but eh sprouted back into a good-sized 
dragon so quickly and with such enthusiasm that 
it was hard to imagine he'd been disappointed in 
the slightest. Lindsey noted that the harness had 
changed with him, and blinked in surprise when he 
realized it. After a moment of gawking, he turned 
back to the gull and asked, “So, will you be able to guide us to your contact?”

Quoddy glanced back at the forest and nodded one 
last time, his own eyes still wide from 
Pharcellus's transformation. “I usually fly 
there, but I think I can.” He turned to Lindsey 
and sketched a brief bow. “It is a great delight 
to have another Keeper here to talk to. I was 
beginning to wonder if Metamor would ever send anyone to help us.”

“We've had some troubles at Metamor lately.” At 
the gull's questioning gaze, Lindsey lifted one 
hand and added, “I'll tell you along the way.” He 
grabbed his pack and stuffed the blanket back 
inside. Pharcellus lowered his neck and allowed 
the boy to climb into the harness. “Now, let's 
find a place we can walk down to the forest.”

Pharcellus gushed a little smoke and grinned. “I 
know just the spot!” Quoddy had to crouch against 
the rock face to avoid being swept off his feet 
by the power of the dragon's launch.

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

Charles Matthias


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