A Story - Sylvin
By: Brooke Amick
Chapter 1
Sylvin walked the barely trodden path through the forest on her way to the Hartford’s home. The Hartford’s house was located deep inside the woods about a half a day’s walk from the main road. It was early spring and there was still a brisk chill in the air, but the scenery made up for the cold. Sylvin pulled her cloak tight around her as she peered around at the fresh, green foliage. The rains had left everything looking lush and vibrant in the forest echoing the promise of a wonderful spring ahead. Of course that meant that the path that Sylvin was presently walking on would become wild and overgrown this year and the Hartfords would need to work hard to keep up with nature’s new growth.
Sylvin wondered about the Hartfords as she walked the path this day. They were the only family to live this far out from the settlement and the only ones in the county who didn’t come into town as a family at least once a month. Every couple months or so they would send their two eldest sons in to purchase the things they needed and that was the only evidence that they still remained within the area. When they were ill they didn’t send for a healer or even consult anyone about what herbs to use. They simply took care of their own problems and stayed out of the affairs of others. It was strange how this behavior colored them in everyone’s opinion as unintelligent and mystic people. Sylvin had to give a chuckle at the stories she had heard about the Hartfords from people who didn’t know them well. In all truth, they were the nicest people Sylvin knew. A bit mysterious seeming, but good, hard working people, whom although they wouldn’t tell you their own problems, they would help you with whatever they could in a heartbeat.
Sylvin could remember the one occasion that Mr. Hartford had come out of the forest to speak with Sylvin’s father, the county’s only wizard, about something or other. Sylvin had been so excited to see Mr. Hartford walking up the path that lead to her family’s house, she had run into her father’s study without knocking and frightened him near to death. Sylvin had expected an immense reprimand, but when her father had heard that Mr. Hartford was coming up the path, he nearly leapt from his chair and strode past her to meet Mr. Hartford on the front porch. No matter how many times Sylvin asked her father what he had talked to Mr. Hartford about that day, he would not tell her. Whatever they had discussed, they had stayed in her father’s study discussing it for a very long time; it was after suppertime when they emerged from the small room at the back of the house. Mr. Hartford did not stay to have anything to eat, but thanked Sylvin’s mother for her kindness and walked out the front door into the dark night. Sylvin had sat on the front porch staring after him into the dark, wondering how he would manage to get home when the night made it impossible to see where he was going.
Eventually, Sylvin figured that Mr. Hartford was very capable of taking care of himself and she went back inside. When she came in, her father and mother were talking very passionately about something in the kitchen, but their voices silenced when they heard her enter. Sylvin’s father was seated at one end of the dining table eating his cold dinner and her mother was sitting in the seat next to him, looking not at all happy about whatever it was that she and her husband had been talking about. Sylvin’s mother didn’t look up when Sylvin entered the room, but kept her gaze on her lap and her hand played with the opal she always wore that hung from her neck on a silver chain. Sylvin had never seen her look this way; her mother was a sorceress and had never been of a submissive nature. “What’s wrong?” Sylvin said as she peered down on her shallow-looking mother.
“Nothing. I’m just tired from today’s work. Old Mrs. Vandermire passed away today, you know.” Her mother’s eyes seemed old and distant as she talked and although Sylvin knew from personal experience that it was draining when someone passed away, she did not believe that was the reason for her mother’s strange behavior. Sylvin looked to her father for his reaction to her mother’s excuse, but he was not even looking at his wife. His features seemed grave and distant as well, as he stared at the kitchen wall opposite him.
“Father, what’s the matter? . . . What did you and Mr. Hartford talk about today?”
At last she had gotten a real reaction from one of them. When Sylvin’s father had heard her second question, his head suddenly jerked towards her and his piercing sky blue eyes seemed to burn into her.
“That is not of your concern. Your mother and I have had a very long day and if you cannot understand that then you can go to your room.”
Sylvin was shocked, he hadn’t punished her in such a way for years and he had never been so harsh with her before on account of her curiosity, he had always said that it was a good trait in her.
“Father, I didn’t mean any harm by my questions. I only want to know the what’s going on. If you are not willing to tell me the truth, then just say so, but don’t lie to me. According to you, you have raised me to be above lying, so if there has been some change in this policy of yours, let me know before you lash out at me.”
Sylvin braced for her father’s reaction, but was determined to let him know that she would not let him make her feel bad about circumstances that she had no influence over. As her father rose from his seat, Sylvin’s mother shot her hand up and lightly placed it on his arm, “She is your daughter, Velmark.” He patted his wife’s hand and moved over to stand directly in front of his daughter.
“So, you think we are lying do you?” Sylvin gave a short nod. “Well, my dear all I can tell you is that it has been a very long and trying day, why that is I cannot tell you yet, but I promise that someday you will know the truth.” Sylvin’s father cupped her chin in one of his large hands as he towered over her. “Now, my dear, I think it would be best if you didn’t mention Mr. Hartford’s visit to anyone and I want you to go to bed now and not worry about anything.” Sylvin’s face told him that she didn’t want to comply, but he simply gave her chin a gentle squeeze and said, “It is all for the best, my child.”
Sylvin had reluctantly gone to her room, but had stayed up most of the night trying to figure out what was going on.
The day after Mr. Hartford’s visit, his two eldest boys showed up at Sylvin’s home. Sylvin’s father met them on the front porch as well, but they didn’t go any further into the house. They said that their father had noticed that the fence that marked off the land belonging to Sylvin’s family was broken down in places and they wanted to know if they could fix it for them. Sylvin’s father accepted their offer with gratitude and they set to work. Sylvin watched them work whenever she had a spare moment. They were two strapping young men and very handsome. Paul was more handsome with black hair and glowing green eyes, but Sylvin had always liked Cedric, the younger of the two better, because he had a sense of humor and a big, bright smile. Cedric was a bit shorter than his brother, but still very tall and strong. In contrast to his brother, his hair was a sandy brown and had probably been blonde when he was a child, yet he had the same glowing green eyes as his brother.
Sylvin could not remember a time when she had seen the two of them apart. After watching them work for a while she could see why they spent so much time together, they worked well with each other. Both seemed to be able to follow the other’s thoughts and movements without question, making their work seamless and fluid. It took them two days to complete the repairs, a job that would have taken any other two men the better part of a week to do. They ate and slept at Sylvin’s home and it had allowed her the opportunity to talk with them and ask about their family. In the course of those two days, she had found them both to be very honest and kind people, whom she admired for their generosity and hard work.
Sylvin had been sixteen then and she still felt the same way about the two young men and their family now that she was eighteen. They were good people, whom she would always be willing to help. Of course, Cedric’s visit to fetch either Sylvin or her mother had come as a bit of a shock. Apparently, Mrs. Hartford was very ill. She had a fever, a deep rattling cough, and was bed ridden. Her family did not think that she would last very long, so they wanted Sylvin or her mother to come and comfort her during the end of her life. Unfortunately, Sylvin’s mother was in another town a day's ride away, extending the aid of her healing powers to the local neighbors. Sylvin had not talked to Cedric herself when he had come to fetch her last night, because she was in town helping old Mr. Fritton, who had broken his leg. So, Sylvin’s father had told Cedric to go back home and that he would send her just as soon as she was available. So, here she was on her way to see the Hartford’s and maybe repay some of the kindness that they had shown her in the past.
Sylvin always liked walking out to the Hartford’s, it gave her a chance to think without interruption and stretch her muscles. At home, she was expected to help her parents, which she did a great majority of the time, or to be in the family library continuing her studies. Sylvin mainly helped her mother with cures or when she needed help with patients, but every once in awhile, she got to do something exciting with her father. Last year she had gone with him and watched him put out a forest fire that was sweeping through the eastern part of Lakeside County, his county. It had been amazing to watch one man put down such a great force. Sylvin’s father had walked straight towards the middle of the fire and stopped about a hundred yards in front of it. He had stretched out his long arms and with magic, that had made the hair on Sylvin’s arms stand up, had smothered the flames. Both she and her father had been very busy for the rest of that day, making sure that those who had lost their homes had somewhere to stay and that there was no threat of the fire restarting, but she would never forget the ending to that day.
It had been in the early hours of the morning that she and her father had finished their work, but before they turned in, Sylvin’s father asked her if she knew how he had managed to summon the power to extinguish the fire. She had said that she thought it was because of his great concern for the people of the Lakeside County, but she had been wrong. Her father told her that he was able to do such a great task out of love and rage. By mixing the two feelings and summoning both of their powers, he had overcome the fire. When Sylvin had given him a sour expression at such an answer, he laughed and told her not to confuse rage with hate, for they are not the same.
“Hate,” her father had said, “will eventually destroy you if you summon its power, but rage is something all together different. When I tried to find the power strong enough to put down the fire, I first thought of love. For love is truly the greatest force above all others. I considered the love of my family, my friends, my neighbors, and my home. The fire was threatening all of the things precious to me, but my love was not enough to stop it. It was the threat that enabled me to act. The fire threatened what I love, therefore enraging me. So, I used the power from my rage. I let it swell and grow inside me, mixing with the power of my love until I felt the total power was strong enough to overwhelm the flames, and then I released it. Someday, my child, you may have to use such powers to overcome an obstacle, so remember not to hate, but to use your capacity for love. . . and in the mean time, I don’t want to see you anywhere near an open flame.”
Sylvin’s father had hugged her close for a long time after his speech and she was sure that he had probably shed a few tears as well. She would always remember how tightly he had hugged her and the way he kissed her forehead that night before she went to bed like he had done when she was a child. As she fell asleep in the darkness of a stranger’s home that night she thought about her father’s words until thoughts turned to dreams.
Sylvin came to a uneven switch in the trail and then a fork, one trail leading northwest, back to the main road and into the next county, and the other leading southwest towards the Hartford’s. Sylvin took the one on her left, towards the Hartford’s without pause until she had walked a few paces down it and saw what lay before her. Squeezed onto the tiny trail in front of Sylvin, was an immense white dragon. The huge opaque scales of its colossal back faced her, with huge yellow spikes protruding down the length of it. The beast’s great wings were folded in precarious positions to allow it to be on the path and it seemed to be in a frustrated state. It was swiveling its terrible head as it looked up the path, while it snorted. Luckily for Sylvin the dragon’s head was turned away from her and it seemed to be preoccupied with its own thoughts. Sylvin wondered if she could quietly walk back the way she came without attracting the dragon’s attention. Of course, then what would she do? She didn’t want to go back home without helping the Hartford’s and she would need to warn them if a dragon was in the area. Sylvin was better equipped to deal with a dragon than a simple family like the Hartfords. No matter what she did, she would have to do something soon, for the dragon was bound to pick up her scent at any second.
As if alerted by Sylvin’s thoughts, the huge neck turned and the beast’s head glided down to end level with Sylvin with alarming swiftness. Sylvin just stared at the pale yellow eyes that were focused on her. All she could do was watch and wait for either death or mercy from the great beast. The fact that its long, thick snout hovered only a couple yards away from Sylvin seemed to end the dispute about which option it would choose.
“Well?” The word came out as a round, deep rumble that seemed to shake even the trees into consciousness. The dragon was a male, which made the encounter all the more frightening. Male dragons were known for their lethal abilities.
“Well what?” Sylvin said back to the dragon in what seemed like a comparatively insignificant and shallow voice.
“Well, why haven’t you screamed yet and run away yelling like a madwoman?” The dragon said in a not at all happy voice.
“I didn’t want to attract your attention and screaming won’t help me.” Sylvin’s voice was small, but steady.
“I gave you time enough to leave, but you stayed. That was not a smart thing to do even if you didn’t scream.” The dragon’s voice was getting more and more dangerous and Sylvin knew that once they went down that path, there would be no turning back.
“Look, I am not here to spy on a dragon, who is larger and more dangerous than I am. I am going to help a dying woman and a family who are my friends. My way leads down this path that you’re on and I cannot go any other way, because the bramble is too thick or there is the river or the cliffs to deal with. I am not trying to hurt you or get myself killed, I just want to go this way.” Sylvin felt as if she had grown two feet taller, by being able to stand up against such a fantastic obstacle. She just hoped that her efforts weren’t about to get her killed, for the dragon looked rather taken back by Sylvin’s words, but not particularly impressed.
“You have the gift.” Was all that the dragon said.
“Well, of course I have the gift, otherwise I would have went screaming and running back the way I came. Anyone without the gift has an adverse reaction to dragons with a few exceptions or they’re suicidal.”
“You have been trained as well. You are a bit of a marvel to find way out in a place like this, don’t you think?” The Dragon seemed to be quite amused by finding someone with the gift way out in the midst of a forest. Sylvin hoped that didn’t mean it was about to show her how insignificant she was by eating her.
“Nonsense, my father is the county’s only wizard and my mother is the only sorceress, although she acts mainly as a healer for the people. And I am much less of a rare find in a forest than a huge, white dragon.”
“Well, you do have spirit, don’t you, little one. Tell me who your father is?” The dragon’s head bobbed up and down slightly as it gave a deep chuckle.
“My father is Wizard Velmark Servyn Lithbenvein and my mother is Lyean Correan Lithbenvein.” The dragon’s head backed up a ways at hearing who Sylvin’s father was, but then it came very close, to where it was just a few feet in front of Sylvin. The massive head turned to one side and one large, yellow eye focused closely on Sylvin. The pale eye looked at Sylvin for several moments and she stared back.
“You have your father’s eyes.” Said the dragon at last.
“And who are you?” Sylvin let out a sigh of relief now that she knew the dragon knew her father.
“I am an old acquaintance of your father’s. My name is Trekson. Most humans call me Trek, but I do not have a preference. I do ask that you not use my name openly with others or even the tale of how you know me, understand?” Trekson said with his one large eye still just feet from Sylvin.
“I understand, Trekson, and I am honored to meet such an extraordinary creature, especially one that knows father. But if I might ask how do you know my father and what is a massive creature like you doing on this cramped, little path?”
“I think that you are going to have to ask your father about the first question and as for the latter . . . let’s just say that I am looking for someone.”
“Who are you looking for? Only one family lives out this way and they are the ones that I am going to see.”
“Well, then the man that I am looking for must be amongst them. What is the family’s name?”
“You don’t plan on harming this man that you are looking for do you?”
“And if I am?”
“Well, if you are, than I am definitely not going to lead you to my friends’ home or tell you their names.” Sylvin said in a haughty tone.
“Even if one of those friends had done very bad things in his past, which he should be held accountable for?” Trekson backed his head away and faced Sylvin squarely as he listened to her answer.
“The people that we are talking about aren’t capable of any evil deeds that would bring them such harm as a dragon represents.” Sylvin could feel her face flushing with anger at the thought of a dragon hurting the Hartfords.
“I think that you are forgetting that we are past the point of trying to kill one another, little one.” The amount of amusement in Trekson’s voice grated on Sylvin’s nerves.
“How dare you find it humorous that you might harm people, that I know to be simple and honest.”
“If the one that I am looking for is amongst them, then I undoubtly know them better than you. They are much more than simple and are very dangerous.”
“Dangerous to whom?”
“Listen to me, little one, I do not intend to harm the one I am looking for, but that does not make him any less dangerous.”
“Fine, whom do you seek?”
“I am searching for. . . a man, who was once named Stephen Douglas Trevinlor. He went into hiding a long time ago after his wife was murdered. No one can remember exactly what he looked like. I must find him in order to get an answer to a question.”
“How is it possible that no one remembers what he looks like?”
“The House of Trevinlor is of high nobility, with lots of money, power, and friends. Stephen was aided by many wizards in order to flee into obscurity, their work has enabled him to stay hidden.”
“So, how are you tracking him and why do you think that he lies down this path?”
Trekson snorted in indignation, but Sylvin stood now with her arms folded waiting for his reply. “Dragons usually stay out of the affairs of humans, but we have made an exception in order to further our peaceful relationship with your species. It is through the combined efforts of many dragons that I am able to track this man, even so I can only tell the general area that he is in.”
“Well, I still don’t think that you will find this man amongst the Hartford’s, but if you are determined to look there, then I won’t interfere. It will take me the rest of the morning to get to the Hartford’s home. I must go, because I am expected and the cause is urgent. If you wish to follow than do so, but you must promise me that you will not hurt anyone.”
“What if they attack me first?”
“They will not, but if they try to hurt you, I will expect you to defend yourself. But, if you hurt one of the children, I will make it my mission in life to make sure you pay for it.”
“I would not hurt a child, even one with the gift like yourself.”
“Good. Let’s go, I have wasted a lot of time.”
“Does the path narrow anymore than this on the way in?”
“Only in one place where it goes around some boulders, but you should be able to climb over those.”
“Do you think that maybe you could tell me where the house is located and I could fly in?”
“The forest where the Hartford’s home is located is so dense that the only way you could fly in is if you wanted to break one or both of those beautiful wings of yours. Besides I want to be there when you arrive, I am traveling to bring my friends comfort on this day, not more pain.”
“Very well then.” Trekson said with resignation. Then to Sylvin’s bewilderment, he lowered his great neck, so that his head was on the ground in front of Sylvin.
“Well.” Trek said in an irritating voice after a moment.
“Well, What?”
“That’s your favorite question, isn’t it? It should be obvious that I am offering to give you a ride so that you can make up that time that you wasted while talking with me.”
“You want me to ride on you? I thought that it went against a dragon’s nature to let a human ride them?”
“Well, just remember that I am not just a horse or other beast of burden and get on.”
Reluctantly, Sylvin hiked up her brown skirt and climbed aboard the dragon’s head, using the edges of his scales and his smaller spikes as handles. Once on Trekson’s head, she wedged herself between two of the spikes closest to the center of his head that would permit her body size. She checked that her pack was strapped on tight and then clung to the spike in front of her for dear life.
“Are you ready up there?” Sylvin jumped when he spoke, she had thought things shook before when he spoke, but now she knew what it was like for the whole world to shake.
“As much as I will ever be.” Sylvin said, closing her eyes tightly.
Trekson gracefully lifted his terrific head and swiveled it around to face back down the path. Sylvin’s stomach was in her throat and she felt like she would never be able to pry her eyelids open again. Trekson had a good deal more trouble turning his body around on the tiny path than he had with his head and neck, but he did eventually manage to get himself righted.
“So I just follow the path?” The rumbling from his voice was worse with his head in the air.
“You follow the path for a good ways, until you get past the place I told you about with the boulders and then you head in a directly southern direction from the largest boulder. The trees are bigger through that area so you can walk between them without a path.”
“I am very lucky that you came along, little one, or else I would have given up on this path a long time ago.” Trekson said as he started out down the small path, bending branches out of the way with the mass of his body.
“Trekson, you do realize that if I fall from this height, that I will never get back up again and by the way, my name is Sylvin.”
Trekson gave a large chuckle that made his head bounce and made Sylvin feel sick. She could literally feel his laughter more than hear it. “I do realize that fact, little one, and is that what your name is? Actually, I was taking quite a fondness to calling you little one, most humans I call little are quite offended by the term, regardless of how true it may be.”
“Then I am guessing that most humans that you have met are men?”
“Very clever assessment.”
“Isn’t it true that most female dragons are bigger than the males?”
“It is very true and that is actually why I was sent on this mission, because as a male, I am smaller and can go more places than the females.”
“And being smaller doesn’t make you feel inferior, does it?”
“Of course not, what the females have in size, us males have in agility and temper. The females need the size to produce and protect the young. It is not a matter of who is more important, both males and females are needed to produce and raise young and neither of us takes such notions lightly.”
“Good. I was just wandering, because human males seem to have this preoccupation with being bigger than woman and therefore think they can dictate everything to us, even if the woman knows better.”
“You seem frustrated by this point?”
“Well, as you said I have the gift and I am almost fully trained in its use, but even so there are men who think I should be married off to some farmer just because I am of marrying age.”
“And you don’t want to marry a farmer?”
“Would you want to be expected to submit to someone that you can’t even have an intelligent conversation with?”
“No, I guess I wouldn’t.”
“Not that I have anything against farmers, or lumberjacks, or hunters, or blacksmiths, or any of the working class. They have been the ones that my parents and I have worked so hard to protect and help for as long as I can remember. I would give my life to help the people of this county, they are like my extended family in a sense.”
“You seem to care a lot about the people around you. You are very much like your parents in this respect.”
“Their lives’ work has been to help those around them and since I am a part of their lives, it has become a part of me as well.”
“Good. As ones with the gift, you should all feel that way. We are all blessed in different ways, so that we might all help one another.”
“What about you, do you have any children or hatchlings or whatever.”
“I have one full grown son and two daughters who are still maturing and three hatchlings, two sons and one daughter.”
“Six little ones, then? You must be very proud of them.”
“I am very proud of them.”
“What does it mean to be a hatchling, though?”
“It means that they do not hunt for themselves. They can successfully hunt any prey for themselves after five to six years, but as parents, we hunt for them and with them until they are ten years old. By the time they reach their fifteenth year, they should be full-grown and can choose a mate any time after that. Dragons mate for life though, so they must be very careful before they decide.”
“Do you miss your mate right now?”
“Yes and no. Sherfin and I have been mated for many, many years. We love each other dearly, but to be apart is not as painful as it was when we were first bonded.”
“I see. So, tell me, is there a reason why your spikes are yellow?”
“Is there a reason that your hair is yellow?” Trekson said imitating Sylvin’s tone.
“So, one of your parents was yellow or golden and the other was white. I thought that dragons like to stay to their own particular type of dragon, when it came to mating?”
“My mother was golden and my father white, therefore I have a variated coloring. It is true that most dragons like to keep to their own type of dragon, which is indicated by body shape and color, but cross-categorical mating is becoming much more accepted. Especially, between golden and white dragons.”
“Well, I think you’re beautiful. You are the most remarkable creature that I have ever had the pleasure of encountering.”
“Thank you very much, little one, you yourself are not so bad looking for a human. Your hair reminds me of my mother.”
“Thanks. I have always liked my hair as well.”
Sylvin and Trekson chitchatted for a while longer, Sylvin explaining about how her parents had trained her to use the gift and Trekson describing his homeland. As it turned out, Trekson was from the area, which was called The Forbidden, a place where only magical creatures lived or those who had been strongly blessed with the gift. The Forbidden had been marked off with great magic, with barriers so formidable that no one lived within miles of them. Of course, dragons, like Trekson were unaffected by the barriers, because the magic was put in place to keep others out, not keep people trapped within. Sylvin wondered what it would be like in a place where every living creature had magic and most objects were instilled with magic as well. Sylvin couldn’t imagine that she would ever go there, because her life’s work was here, but she enjoyed listening to Trekson talk about it.
“But, Trekson, what about peoples like the Thriandal Elves that live far to the North? Why would they choose to live up there instead of in the Forbidden, if the Forbidden is especially for creatures like them?”
“Good question, little one. First you must understand two things, the purpose of The Forbidden and the history of the Thriandal Elves. The Forbidden was barricaded for the purpose of protecting those with magic. As you probably know, there has been much hatred and persecution of those of magical origin and of the gift. The Forbidden was created during a time of great war between those with magic and those without. During this time, quite a few with the gift sided with those of non-magic to try and rid the world of magic. Many of our greatest leaders were killed by those we trusted before we even knew that the war had begun.”
“All of the traitors were wizards and sorceresses, many of whom had been blessed by creatures of magic. That struggle turned many creatures of magic not only against humans, but against those with the gift.” Sylvin’s voice was cold and distant in the still morning air. “I hate it when my father tells this story. It is as if he were there and I can just feel the sadness seeping out of him.”
“Hhhmm, it is good to know that you humans remember, for those like me, who lived through it, it is unforgettable. It is true that it created a great rift between magical creatures and humans, but we are trying to heal that now, at least a little. Anyways, The Forbidden is a sanctuary for those of very strong magic. The Thriandal Elves, though magical creatures, are very close to being half-breeds. They have blood of both elves and humans, although they are of mainly elfish blood. They are strong enough in their uses of their magic to live in The Forbidden, but they chose to stay where they were. They chose in such a manner, because they are partly human and had good relations with their human neighbors and because they felt there needed to be at least some magic amongst the humans. They felt pity for their cousins and it has cost them dearly over the years, but they have persevered and amazingly they have survived.”
“You must have friends amongst them, you sound very proud.”
“I have many friends amongst the elves, if ever in great need, I will always be able to turn to them and they to me.”
“I see. Well, Trekson, I need to eat something now, so that I can have time before I attend to Mrs. Hartford.”
“How long have you been practicing healing? I did not know that healers liked to have time between when they eat and when they heal?”
“I am not going to the Hartford’s to do any healing today. Mrs. Hartford is on her deathbed or else they would not have sent for me. I am here to comfort and guide her through her death and give her family some comfort.”
“What?”
“Now, the fact that you don’t live amongst humans is showing, my scaly friend.”
“Why would you help someone through their death?”
“Why would a healer help someone who is wounded from a rock slide or flood or who is emotional distraught from some tragedy? Like you said, those with the gift are blessed so that they might help others in ways they cannot help themselves.”
“What do you do?”
“First, I take their pain and fear, then I help orientate them, so that they can say goodbye to their family. This process has helped some people to recover from their illnesses, but it takes a lot of effort of both their part and mine to do this and so most do not recover. I know that it sounds simple to a creature like you, but during the process, not only do I have to worry about the family and the person’s reactions, but my own emotions. So, I usually like to not eat, before I attend a dying person, food tends to aggravate my senses in such cases, instead of sooth them. So, that’s why I will eat a little now and nothing else until Mrs. Hartford is in the ground.”
“According to what you have said, she could recover.”
“I don’t think she will. The Hartford’s have not called for a healer and they would only call for me if Mrs. Hartford really is near death. I am sure that today four children will lose their mother and one simple man will lose his wife.”
“I am sorry, that you are traveling towards such a grim deed, little one.”
“I look at it this way, I would much rather help them and let them go out of this world with peace and love in their hearts, than allow them to suffer the pain and disillusionment that come along with death. This allows them to not fear and to talk to their family one last time, without the dementia that comes from the pain.”
“You seem very wise for one so young. If I might ask, how long have you been doing this?”
There was a long pause before Sylvin said anything and when she did speak, Trekson was sorry that he had asked. “My mother started doing this at the very young age of eighteen. I have watched her do it all of my life and I have always understood that it was better this way and that death is just another part of life. So, one day when a boy fell from a bridge that spans a ravine near the forest’s edge and broke his back, I helped him. I had not seen him fall, but had come running from a nearby house when I heard the news. I knelt beside him and saw his pain; I can still hear the sound of his mother weeping next to me. I tried to use my healing powers, but the damage was too severe. I knew that my mother was too far away and that the boy would die before she could come, so I put my hands on him. I can remember how the orange-gold glow seemed so strange, but I had seen it before from my mother, so I continued on. His body shook within my hold and my hands shook with him. I took his pain; soothed his fears, and he said his goodbye to his mother. I did the full job and to this day, his mother will not come near me, but always sends me a small gift during the spring. Her son died in the spring.” Sylvin sat quietly for a moment with her hands folded in her lap and her gaze on the dragon’s scales. “I was fifteen then and I have done it countless times since then.”
“I thought you said that your mother was young to have done it at eighteen?”
“I most certainly did, but please, don’t ask me to explain why I was able to do it. My mother and I have some theories about the fact that I felt the urgency of the need for help, but in truth, I just don’t know why.”
“Again, I am sorry for the grimness of the deed, little one. Eat your food, I will leave you in peace.”
Sylvin pulled a nectarine out of her pack and loudly bit into it, as she sat waiting for the dragon’s next question. She knew there would be one more question, because there was always one last question that people wanted to know.
Trekson walked on in silence for a moment, listening to the young girl eating, thinking about the dreariness of what lay before her, and wondering at the courage of a child. He knew that the subject had been closed and that he should leave her in peace, but eventually he did ask her his one last question.
“Little one, you don’t have to answer me if you don’t want to, but when you say that you take their pain, does it hurt you?”
Sylvin sat with her chin resting on one hand as she finished her nectarine. Once she had finished the fruit, she simply tossed the remaining seed into the forest and wiped her hands on a cloth from her pack. Then she answered Trekson.
“Yes, dragon, it hurts . . . a lot.”
Sylvin and Trekson traveled in silence for the remainder of their trip, both thinking of things from deep in their pasts and the dark deeds that lay before them this day.
Sorry, it is so long. I know I am very verbose and I know that all of the formatting is off because of the posting forum's dislike of tabs and spacing. I hope you all like it though and come up with some good suggestions for making it better. Thanks.
-Brooke
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