“I know we have to make ourselves bleed.
That’s what the tunics are for.”
Drip. Drip. Marden’s soaked shirt was dripping on the stone. His blood was mixing with the water, staining his shirt and giving it a pinkish hue. He looked below at the drops of water and saw his own blood, marbleizing in the small splash of water on the stone. He looked up and over at his twin brother Malachi, standing just a few steps away. He too stood in a wet tunic, made by their mother, soaked in his own blood and the water of the nearby altar. There they stood, waiting. Hundreds of other boys stood all around them in lines jetting out across the circular stone, like slice marks in a large stone pie. Marden was searching for hope in his fright. The two brothers stood and waited. It was all they could do. Marden saw that Malachi had an steeled look of determination on his face. He looked over at Marden to give him strength. Then he spoke.
“It’s all right, Marden,” Malachi spoke slowly and calmly. “This will all be over soon. Then we will go home. Maybe we can even have some short adventure? Take a bit of a detour on the way home?” He winked.
“It’s cold,” Marden whispered back. “How much longer?”
“Soon. Try not to think about it. It won’t be you…or me. Why us?”
“And then we can go home?” Marden was frantic now.
Malachi tried to be strong for his brother, but inside, his fears churned about as well. It was something these boys had always known about, and tried to prepare for. Stories had been handed down for years about this ritual. But there was no preparing for what they would see that day.
Malachi looked down at his own tunic, stained with blood and dripping on the stone below. He was standing on a line, chiseled deeply into the rock. It was filling slowly with the drops, and running like a small trough away from him. The danger here was something unlike what any of them had experienced. It was something they would not forget. The dragon was coming to choose, and with that choice, the families of Ravelle would be saved from the dragon. But one family would be heartbroken; shattered by the terrible sacrifice.
The twins stood shivering along with a few hundred other boys there at Bodiford. The stone circle they waited in measured at least two stone throws across. In the center of the circle was marked another smaller circle; a dais of sorts—perhaps the size of a small house or hut. . It rose up like a platform, higher that Malachi could have reached. The center stone seemed to be a darker color stone than the rest. Here is where the dragon would come. Chiseled away on the outer stone were twenty lines or more, extending outward from the inner platform and moving away for some distance on the outer rock circle. The boys all stood on these lines, several steps ahead or behind one another… and waited.
At the top of the outer circle was a large tower of steel and wood. It was difficult to measure the height, but it was surely the largest structure these boys had seen, outside of one of the king’s castles. Several beams of steel were secured to one of the rising corners of the tower and jutted outward like a metallic spine of a wooden giant. It formed a crude ladder that ran up the side looking like a sort of crude metal stitching. At the very top platform was a large bronze metallic disk. It was a gong, used by the dragon “keeper”. In the distance, beyond the tower, the Templar Mountains rose, like sharp slabs of rock out of the ground. Their craggy points reached skyward, and in the distance, more mountain peaks could be seen. It was from there that it, the dragon, would come from. During the year, this place served as a campground for travelers who moved through the area. It was an eerie place to see and some traveled there to relive their own memories and experiences. It was a spectacle—an attraction to the country of Ravelle. But not today. Today Bodiford was serving its true purpose. A sacrament to appease a beast.
Marden and Malachi had come from the region of Silar, the furthest in the kingdom from the site. Bodiford sat in the North--in the neighboring province of Nora. It was a far journey, but not difficult. Once the Kandar River was crossed, the plains of Nora were all that lied between the brothers and this place. It was a two-day travel. But the brothers had left early, allowing some extra time for the journey. As it was, they had arrived the evening before, with the tower in distant sight. They had decided to camp nearby, but had seen another fire closer to the site. Surely, it was the dragon keeper’s fire, come early to prepare. Now that Bodiford was in view, the boys began to talk about what they would experience the next day.
“What do you think… it will… be like?” asked Marden, slowly.
“I’ve heard the same stories you have.” Malachi kicked the fire. “I know we have to make ourselves bleed. That’s what the tunics are for.”
Each of the boys had a white tunic tied and wrapped up in their satchels. Their mother, Saira, had made them in the last year. She had quietly cried many times in the evening as she stitched the cloth. She was all the family they had. They had lost their father when several villages had banded together in an uprising against the king. The soldiers had slaughtered them mercilessly. Now many homes in Silar were fatherless, including their own. Together they farmed vegetables, raised a few animals, and lived meager, but happy lives.
Saira had struggled to smile as she saw the boys off two days before.
“I know we must save ourselves from the dragon, and we must obey our king,” she said to them as she stuffed the wrapped and tied garments into the boys’ bags. “I know you will be home soon. The dragon never chooses boys from Silar, anyway. Watch each other, and I will see you home in a few days.” She seemed confident, but she still had tears streaming down her face as the boys turned west toward the river to leave. Now the brothers were here, and all they could do was wait.
“I guess we will see all that there is to see tomorrow.” Malachi sighed and pulled a blanket from his pack.
“How many do you think will arrive tomorrow?”
“Hundreds.”
“What about the blood? How are we going to—“
“I brought a knife. We’ll help each other with it.” Malachi sighed. “It’s all taken care of.”
“It won’t be us, will it? I mean… one of us?” Marden didn’t like to think about it but couldn’t help himself.
“I don’t want to think about it Marden. Let’s just enjoy the trip. Tomorrow will be tomorrow.”
“What does the dragon do with him? Does he—“
“Get some sleep. Let’s face it tomorrow.” Malachi pulled up his blanket and turned over to rest. Marden sat for a few minutes and stared at the fire. His imagination ran wild about what might happen the following day. His fears and thoughts carrying him to a place he did not want to go. He imagined the dragon diving in and clutching him. He saw himself being carried higher and higher into the air. He thought of what might happen beyond that, and shuddered with cold. He turned over to sleep as well, but the dragon still carried him in his dreams.
Now the time had come. There was no reason to wonder. They had walked over early the following morning. The dragon keeper was barking instructions as the groups of boys had neared the circle throughout the day.
“Watch yourselves…” “Mind all your belongings.” “Has everyone remembered their tunic?” The keeper’s name was Seth, and he had been there at Bodiford waiting for them all to arrive. He was older than most of their fathers and showed his age in the deep wrinkles on his face. He was a spry slender man, with long sandy hair.
“You there, tie your animals up on those trees.”
“You! Stay away from that tower, boy.”
“Are there others traveling behind you that you know of?”
With all of his questions, and shouting orders, Seth quickly made the impression that he was in control here. Marden didn’t mind. It helped to have someone there that knew and understood what was about to happen. Oddly comforting in a way.
All the boys did their best to obey all of Seth’s requests. As the hours passed, others continued to arrive through the day. Some others came from Silar, others coming through a mountain pass from Calabria. Other local boys from the region of Nora came through the day as well. Some faces were red and streaked, left from crying; others boys were sobbing still. About noon, most of the boys had arrived and had unpacked simple provisions and lunches. Some ate; others just sat about, waiting. Late in the afternoon, the last groups of boys were arriving, from the region of Belaton. Belaton stood just across a small strip of sea that separated it from the rest of Ravelle. The boys had been escorted across the water together by one of the royal ships. They had made the rest of the journey as a single band.
As they arrived, one older boy from Belaton began mocking and yelling at the other boys as he approached the site. He was tall with ebony black hair. He smirked as he called out to the others.
“The dragon will take you away! It is worse than your nightmares! He will fly you to his lair! The dragon will drink your blood! He will kill you slowly!”
He laughed at the frightened faces that turned to his yells. One younger boy got up and immediately began to run to the south, fleeing the site. Seth saw, and ran after him. After a bit, the boy fell, and Seth caught up to him. He picked up the boy, who was sobbing, and dusted him off.
“Don’t disgrace your village or your king, my son. Face your fears. You don’t want to punish or hurt your family, do you?” The boy shook his head. “Your king wants you here, yes? All young men must face this. How old are you? Where are you from?”
“I am from here in Nora. I just turned thirteen last month.”
Seth nodded at the young boy. “Say… do you know others who have faced the dragon back at home?” The boy slowly nodded. “Don’t worry, I am sure you will return to join them soon. Just think of the stories you can tell.” Seth slowly walked the boy back to the site, but with his hand firmly on his shoulder. “Go and get your tunic, son. Come and see me if you need some help.”
Seth spotted the rude boy, who was now weaving more horrible possibilities to a huddled group of boys—who couldn’t help but listen in fear. The old dragon keeper walked up behind the boy and struck him on the head with his hand. The crowd of boys dispersed.
“What is your name, boy? Where do you come from?”
“The family of Valern. My name is Luther.”
“Aaahh. The young prince of Belaton graces us this year.” Seth looked him over.
“I am not afraid of any dragon. Would he dare choose royal blood? I should not even be here at all. My father—“
Seth grabbed the boy and pulled him up close to his chest. He bent down and whispered into the boy’s ear.
“I think the dragon might have a taste for royal blood today, boy. Maybe Belaton will need to find a new heir!” With that, he pushed the boy away from him. He turned his face upward and yelled for all to hear. “Gather your tunics, boys. We wash them in the spring… now.” As Luther got up, he saw the twins together. His pride still stinging from Seth, he went to get in a few last digs.
“Won’t know which one to get between you two, will he?” he sneered at Marden and Malachi. “Maybe he should just take both of you, eh? One in each claw!”
“Stay away from us. We don’t want to hear it.” Marden turned away from him. Luther grabbed his shoulder and turned Marden to face him again.
“Do you know who I am? I am Belaton’s heir. You don’t turn away from me. I could crush you. You are nothing, you little farm boy.”
Malachi stepped in between them. “Leave.”
Slowly Luther Valern turned away, laughing loudly so others could hear.
“Maybe the dragon likes the taste of dirty farm boys!” He stepped away and began walking back to a crowd of other boys from Belaton, who were laughing at Luther’s teases. Malachi and Marden got their tunics and began moving toward the others. They were gathering around the dragon keeper to hear the instructions.
Just off to the side of the large tower, was a large altar, made of large rocks. The top was hewn out, creating a large cistern. It was large enough for ten to twenty boys to stand around. It had been built over a spring, and now the water came bubbling out of the middle of the altar, settling into the bowl, and running slowly out of a hewn trough to one side of the altar. Seth waited until all of the boys had gathered around, tunics in hand. The sun was beginning to go down. Seth’s voice grew dark and serious.
“Most of you have been told about the ceremony by friends or family. It requires water…this water. It also requires blood. Your blood. You must wash your tunics here. They need to be fully soaked. The garment then needs to be marked with your blood. Most of you can make a simple cut on your hand, arm or chest. It won’t take much, but it needs to be enough to stain the garment. If any of you need help with that…”
His voice trailed off, but his hand went to the knife at his own belt.
“When you are ready, line up on the marks of the outer circle. Give yourself several paces between one another. There should be plenty of room…”
He hesitated. He had seen these faces for years before. He wanted to tell them more. He wanted to ease their pain and fears. He looked over the hundreds of boys, and spotted the young boy from Nora. The boy’s eyes were still fearful, his ears hanging on every fearful word of the keeper.
“The dragon makes his choice every five years. It is to protect all of us. It is difficult, giving up one life for many. But it has to be done. The kings of Ravelle make this sacrifice on behalf of all of us. Each region sends its boys, like all of you. I have seen many ceremonies over the years. All of you will be able to face this fear, just as generations have before you. All of you will go home when it is over. Only one of you will make a sacrifice to protect all of Ravelle. You will make it with your life. There is no fear, nor shame in that. There is pride. There is…honor.”
The boys’ faces turned downward. They were all wondering if theirs would be that honor. Malachi grabbed the shoulder of his brother and squeezed it.
“At dusk, I will signal the dragon from that tower. He will come to the center platform of the circle.” He paused, knowing that the boys knew what was next. Seth spoke more quietly.
“Afterward, if you would like to stay here overnight before your journey home, I will watch over you all.”
Luther Valern slowly crept through the crowd. He sneaked behind the twins, and began holding up his hands in the air, dangling them over the boys’ heads, like sinister claws, mocking the brothers. The other Belaton boys began laughing again.
In a moment, before Marden even knew it, Malachi was moving. He clutched Luther’s hand over his own head, and turned toward him, all in one speedy motion. As he pulled Luther forward, Malachi struck him hard with his other fist. The sound of skin on skin made a large pop, and many turned to look and what happened. Luther, again on the ground, was bleeding from both the nose and mouth. Malachi glared down at the boy and spoke.
“Now you, don’t need a knife.”
The Belaton boys started to move up in the crowd to save Luther, but the rest of the crowd had circled him closely to watch.
“Boys, you all need to begin now. No time for fighting or games.” With that, Seth beckoned the boys toward the water.
The crowd began to disperse and the boys gathered around and began to wet their ceremonial garments in the water that poured from the altar. Luther got up and stared at Malachi.
“I won’t forget this…and I won’t forget you.”
As Seth looked out over the boys, he felt for them. The old dragon keeper knew the horror they were facing. He understood their fears. But, as he had said, it was for the protection of all of Ravelle that the dragon chose one of these boys today. There was so much they would never understand. If only they had stood where he had stood for all those years; seen it all through his eyes. But now, he was old. It was time to begin thinking about a new era with the dragon. A new keeper, maybe? Seth wondered if he could continue another five years out. But choosing a replacement might be a worse fate than the ritual itself. Someone to commit to serve the dragon, yet, face these boys again and again over the years. Who could do such a thing?
Now Malachi and Marden stood staring at one another, in their blood soaked garments. They had used the knife they had brought and cut each other down the length of the palm of their left hand. They stood beside one another and had clutched and wiped on their white tunics from their mother. They slipped off the shirts they had worn when they traveled. They slowly put the tunics on over their heads. The wet cloth clung against their skin. It was cold, and the water and blood dripped off of their shirts. Malachi spoke to Marden trying to get his mind off of what they were living through, the moment they were both in.
“We will head home soon, and we can hunt some deer, and maybe scare up a swamp troll or two! You need to get some back for what they did to you last time, remember?”
Immediately Marden’s mind left the moment and raced back to the encounter with the trolls he had just weeks before, outside their home. Swamp trolls were evil little creatures that inhabited the brooks and rivers back near their village of Beran in the region of Silar. Malachi and Marden had lived along the banks with their mother Saira, and had encountered the trolls many times. These trolls stood about knee high to a man and had slick, wet skin. They came in all sizes, some fat and paunchy, others thin and wiry. Others had odd characteristics; arms that were abnormally long, short stubby legs, small heads on large bodies, and still others that just, looked half-crazed. They were blackish, usually with streaks or spots of dark green hues. They were amphibious looking, spending most of their time near the river or in the swamps of the forest. They had some slight intelligence, albeit they were very simple creatures. Their eyes were large and beady yellow, with dark, thin slits of iris running down the middle. They communicated in shrieks and grunts, mostly. What little language they did know was typically spoken in a few, broken words. What made these trolls dangerous, however were their long, sharp claws that stuck out from both their feet and hands. They also carried a mouth full of several small sharp teeth. They were scavengers, creatures that fed off of the injured or dead animals in the area. Occasionally, a pack of them might invade and poach livestock from villages near the rivers and forests, typically a small sheep or pig. They stayed away from people mostly, only coming out at night—and usually just to roam for food. Marden and Malachi enjoyed hunting them down, and felt, after all, that they were doing their village a service. Besides, one or two swamp trolls alone weren’t dangerous. It was when they traveled in packs that they really posed a threat.
Marden remembered the day that he himself had been attacked by a group of trolls in the swamp, some weeks before. He had ventured down to the river to try and net some fish for lunch. As he waded into the mud at the riverside, he saw them. There were at least six of them were sitting there in the mud on the bank of the river, just to his right. One of them, very large and fat, sat scooping the mud in his claws, pouring the mud over his paunch and covering himself. In a moment, it saw him. His yellow eyes squinted at him and blinked. Marden tried to back up, but was moving too slowly in the mud. With a shriek to the others, the fat troll leaped up and threw itself at Marden. Marden had grabbed it in the air and tossed it forward back into the water. In a moment, the rest of the fiends were upon him. They pounced on Marden and he fell forward into the river. They were on him and began to tear and scratch his flesh. He was gasping for air, as the weight of the creatures was pulling him under the water. As quickly as he would pull one off, they were back on him, clawing at him, biting his flesh, sinking their claws into him. He could see his own blood in the water now. He tried to fight them off, but they were beginning to drag him away, and…he was bleeding now… a lot. He thought—he hoped that Malachi was close enough to hear him.
“MALACHI! TROLLS! IN THE RIVER! I NEED YOU!”
Malachi had been working in the family shed, not far from the river. He heard the screams and came running, with a large mallet in hand. He leaped into the water with his brother—smacking the creatures left and right. With a few swings, he had fended off the pack. No match for Malachi’s mallet, they withdrew, running in all directions, shrieking and squealing as they ran. Some dashed into the forest; others swam down the river.
“Thanks. I thought for a moment that they had me.”
“They did. You’re a mess, let’s go home and clean up those cuts.”
Malachi had saved him. They had walked back to their hut together; Marden with his clothes soaked in water and blood. Much like today. Marden knew in his mind that Malachi would not be able to save him today, though.
So there they stood with hundreds of others and waited, standing in line like wet, crimson soldiers. They looked upward to see Seth climbing the tower. Soon, he would send out the signal. And they would see it coming from the mountains.
“Malachi…“, he whispered, “Let’s not stay tonight. Let’s just leave and go home. I don’t want to be at this place anymore!” Marden looked to his brother. He wanted it all to be over. He didn’t want his dreams to play out in front of him. He wanted to be home, catching fish in the stream, or sleeping in the sun. Tending the fields or livestock. Anything to be away from here. It was safe. It was home. It was…
Bong…. Bong…. Bong…
Seth struck the large bronze disk. Three strikes would signal the beast from the mountains. Marden could feel the sound in his chest. The gong echoed in the mountains out in the distance for what seemed to be minutes. But it was only seconds until they could see what was coming. They all saw it. From the crags of Templar it was flying. It started as a small brown speck in the sky, moving against the mountains, but its shape was growing quickly.
How fast was it coming? Marden’s mind began to race. He turned to look to Malachi, but his brother was focused on the shape along with everyone else. Please let it end! I want to go home!
The boys all gasped, and they looked upward. Seth’s eyes followed the shape from the tower. Marden wanted to shut his eyes. But he couldn’t. He wanted to think of home again, but those thoughts were miles away now and would not, could not be called up. All he could think was all he could see. And it was coming closer. The dragon’s brown shape came closer, and then circled overhead. As it drew nearer, the setting sun in the west blinded Marden’s view. But he could hear it now, huffing with large breaths, and the wings beating the air. Some boys began to scream out.
“Stay!” Seth bellowed from the top of the tower. “Do not break rank. Stay where you are!” He scowled down at the boys from high above.
And then the dragon seemed to plummet from the sky, toward the center of the stone platform. Just as the beast reached the earth, it stretched out its leathery wings wide, levitated in the air for a moment, then dropped to the stone. The ground beneath their feet shook. Marden was breathless.
He had never seen anything like it before in his life, big or small. The large beast landed before them, fully encompassing the platform, and was large—much larger than a house. As the beast began to settle, it slowly picked up each of its claws above the stone, first one and then the other. They were like two large tree stumps, rising into the dragon’s body. Each of the limbs had five claws, three in front, and two protruding out the back. Each claw was ivory white, and was easily as large as any of the boys. As he picked up each leg, the dragon opened and closed the claws, with the back claws closing in on the front, crossing like fingers. The claws clicked together as they crossed one another. The two large wings stretched high above the dragon. They were like large leather tents, held together with a frame of muscle, sinew, and bone. As the beast lowered them to its body slowly, the wings spread across the horizon, briefly blocking out the setting western sun. Marden could see the image of the sun briefly burning through the translucent, leathery wings.
The dragon’s body was long and fat trailing largely from the wings and moving smaller slowly to its tail. It was scaly brown, but was smooth, like a snake’s skin. With the muscles bulging on the dragon, the scales and skin of the beast shone a slight, silver luminescent color, shimmering off the sun. As the beast began to turn, Marden could see its enormous head. It jutted out just slightly above the wings. It was bulky and large, like a boulder. The eyes were a golden orange color, with a drop of black in the center, the size of a plate. For a moment, the head turned, inquisitively. It turned its head sideways, and its eye seemed to focus on Marden. The dragon lifted its head again slowly to the sky. The sides of the dragon began to expand.
“HUFFFFNFNNNNNN!”
Its cloudy breath rolled up in to the sky. Several boys broke to run. Seth shouted to them, but there were no orders or coaxing to bring them back now. Other boys had fainted dead away, and were lying in places about the stone circle. Others stood eyes closed, petrified. Still others, like the twins, held their ground, transfixed by the beast.
It was then that the creature began to sniff. With large movements, its head twisted in the air, searching for a scent. Slowly, the dragon stepped off its platform, and began to walk away from the brothers. Each step seemed like thunder, rolling across the ground. The beast stopped a moment, bent its head and rolled the body over of a boy who had fainted. It sniffed his body up and down a moment, and then moved on. Slowly, it made its way to the edge of the larger stone circle, and began walking around the outside of it, sniffing and huffing. Marden watched as the beast would turn its head skyward for a moment, taking in more of the air, before turning its eyes back on the crowd. Closer it came, rounding the circle. Now, it was nearly behind them, and Marden could no longer see the dragon. He feared turning or moving, so he listened. Waiting. The thunder of the dragon’s steps was pulsing in his head and chest. THOOM. THOOM. THOOM.
Suddenly, the dragon’s head appeared beside him, fixed between he and Malachi. Its eye was close enough to touch. The eye twisted and turned in its socket. His nostrils breathed in slowly, deliberately. And then, the head began to lift.
It’s leaving! Please just choose someone else! Now I can go home!
Marden turned, relieved, to speak to Malachi.
But the dragon wasn’t gone. As Marden turned, he saw the dragon standing high on one foot, wings reaching high up in the air once again. Its other foot was stretched out, toward Malachi. Its five claws were grasping Malachi around the middle, wrapping around his body like a cage. His brother’s eyes were shut tight, and he was shivering in fear.
“NO! STOP!” Marden screamed.
In a split second, Malachi looked over to Marden. His face, in a moment, changed. That look of strong determination flashed again. He spoke.
“Remember me…”
And with that the dragon lifted off of the ground. The wind from the flap of its wings pushed his head downward, but Marden craned up to see his brother now skyward. He screamed, and chased after the dragon running across the stone. He reached the center platform and tripped over one of the hewn crevices in the rock. He screamed to the sky,
“NO! Let me keep my brother!”
But the dragon could not hear, nor did it care. A few seconds later it disappeared in the dusky light of the Templar Mountains. Its brown shape masked against the cliffs.
And with that, Marden fell away into unconsciousness.
The boys that had not already fled stood for a while, transfixed. After a bit, they began to each turn toward home, exhausted and frightened, but relieved. The few that took Seth up on his invitation to stay overnight were gathered in small groups, huddled around fires near the large stone circle. Marden woke up hours later, fireside. He looked across the fire to see Seth, the dragon keeper. They were alone, and Seth was staring back at Marden.
“What is your name, boy?”
“I’m Marden! My brother was Malachi! He’s gone! The dragon took him!” He cried. “What happened? What will the dragon do to him?” Marden stood to face Seth, throwing off the blanket covering him. Tears began streaming down his face.
Seth looked over at him with consoling eyes.
“My boy,” Seth reached his hand out to comfort him.
“We have to get him! Before he is eaten! The dragon cannot have him! What can we do?”
“There is nothing we can do.” Seth eyed the boy quietly. “The dragon made his choice. You who are left must continue on.” He looked down and poked the fire with a branch.
“I cannot! He is the only thing I had in this world! CURSE THAT DRAGON!” He fell in a heap and began to sob.
The old man softened his look. “You are twins, then? It did seem that the beast was choosing between you.” He paused. “Why him and not you, son?”
“How can you ask?” Marden sobbed, with his face hidden. “I don’t know. Better for it to choose me! Malachi was always stronger and smarter. He is better than me.” He wailed again. “He took care of both me and my mother. I can’t do that all alone now… I can’t believe he is gone. Marden fell in a heap, overcome by his grief. Finally he whispered out loud, “He has been eaten by the dragon!”
Seth paused again. He rose from his place and sat down beside Marden.
“Would you truly rather have sacrificed yourself than your brother? You would suffer that fate, your life for his?”
At this Marden looked up. Tears streaked his dirty face. He looked upon the old man, and nodded. Then he turned and buried his face once again in the blanket.
Seth huddled close to the boy and gathered him into his arm. He stared deep into the fire, and then spoke.
“He has not been eaten, boy. Only… just…taken...”
Marden looked up from the blanket. Seth’s eyes blackened, gazing ahead, still deeper into the fire.
“I have much more to share with you, Marden. There is much to tell.”