Cloud Dragons

“There weren't any dragons in the Valley.”

Mother said such when either Brea or I gave voice to the sounds we heard out in the Valley. We were only allowed in the Valley for less than one hour each mid-moon.

Father told stories of when he was a boy. He never saw a dragon but he could run the Valley any time with the chance of seeing a dragon. He had stories of sleeping on the sweet grasses of the Valley and watching the rise of the Four Moons and their setting.

I closed my eyes as father spoke. I could see it. When he described the winds and the scents on the winds and the way they tasted my tongue would pass across my lips. I knew that taste. I scented those winds.

Mother said I was fanciful and thought of things beyond me. Father winked at me and gave me a gentle hug.

“You fill that child with stories, Alorn. She cannot eat stories nor clothe a family with them.”

Father nodded and took his empty pipe to sit by the evening fire. He pretended to fill the pipe but he had not had any smoke in well over twelve turnings of the Four Moons.

I remembered when Father’s tobacco plants filled the land that surrounded our home. The broad leaves were sharp on my skin when I tumbled through them as a toddler.

In that time Mother’s laughter was bright as were the many colored flowers and vegetables that sat on our table. Mother wove stories at night as we readied for sleep, her voice lulling us.

Father took Mother’s hand and looked into her eyes, “Wahlisha, you are the heart of my heart as are each of our children. And each child has strengths and weaknesses. This daughter is one of story and hope. We are sorely in need of hope each and every day. I encourage her to find the stories that continue the nurture of hope.”

Mother stopped her preparation of the evening meal. Head bowed I heard the sadness and strain in her voice.

“If I could change the world with my hope, I would, Alorn.”

“Good!” Father nodded, “then you will support First Daughter’s pilgrimage to Spirit Well during the summer months.”

“Alorn Eshtrow! You are the most infuriating Bondmate anyone could have. You know you led me right into that. She quickly reached Alorn’s side and snapped her towel against his shoulder.

Father did not even flinch. I flinched for him. As First Daughter I often received Mother’s ire in the form of a towel snapped, a hand slapped, or other forms of correction.

Father took the towel from Mother then pulled her into his lap and kissed the top of her head.

“When I promised myself to you, do you remember what I said?”

Mother scoffed, “Of course!” She looked over Father’s shoulder and out to the rising of the Four Moons.

“You promised me a child for each of the Four Moons.”

“Father gently pushed her long hair over her shoulder. “And have I given you such?”

Mother nodded and laid her head against Father’s shoulder. ‘That you have, my bond.”

Mother turned her head to look at each of us. “First daughter, born under the Moon of Moralch, is fearless and leads the others. She knows things that I have no knowledge of and that you have no knowledge of. I do remember your mother, though. Sometimes I think First Daughter was gifted all that from your mother.”

“And her spirit beast,” Father prodded. “Neither you nor I gifted her that.”

Mother frowned. The spirit beast was not to her liking. We all knew that - even my spirit beast, Creylashk.

I dipped my head. I was proud to be First Daughter. Mother always reminded me that pride has no place within the Kingdom or within the Star to which we belong. I tried to remember. My failing came from not understanding what pride felt like. When I spoke I was compelled to speak. I could no more stop that flow than I could hold the Four Moons in one place.

“One day, little friend, you may be able to do that,” Creylashk made herself known.

“Hush!” I fierce whispered. My spirit beast who joined me when I came of age last summer was always ready to add fuel to the fire - especially with Mother.

We all were surprised at Creylashk’s appearance. Neither Mother or Father received a spirit beast. Even so they remembered the signs. Mehral, the healer, knew just what to do and within days Creylashk and I were communicating and in sync.

Father celebrated our dyad. Mother remained polite in Creylashk’s presence. I tried to be aware of her and Creylashk at all times.

I felt Father’s hand upon my shoulder. How did he know when Creylashk spoke? He always knew. Mother had no such connection. I felt sorry at that moment. It must be so lonely to wear the body and be the only spirit in residence.

Father shook his head slightly. A warning to keep my mouth closed for both me and for Creylashk.

I was careful to obey my Father. His wise ways saved me many times in the past.

Mother watched me closely then turned to Father.

“One day,” she caressed his beard, “you will need to let her make her way without your counsel.”

I laughed. Father smiled then kissed Mother’s palm. “Let us hope we have many turnings of the Four Moons before that must be.”

Silence slipped over the room as we watched the fire before us and I stole glimpses of the rising of the Four Moons outside. My Starborn sisters and brother had not yet returned. Mother and I asked at the same time.

“Where are they?”

Father laughed.

From above our home I heard wings - large wings, powerful wings that bounced the air off the roof of our home. Mother moved as if to stand but Father held her still.

“Not now, Wahlisha. Remain perfectly still.”

The three of us sat, barely breathing, and listened. We heard the song - such an enticing song. I wanted to stand and to dance my way out under the Four Moons. I wanted to sing the refrain and the response to this call that touched my heart and pulled my soul to the very tip of my tongue.

“Sit!” Father hissed. I knew I was still in a daze as I looked at him with such sadness. I would never see Father again. The days of wise counsel were at an end.

“I am sorry,” I murmured as I moved with unknowable speed to the door. “This is my time. The call is from my Bond. I will never forget all that you have taught me.”

Mother screamed as a talon broke through the wall, clasped my waist and lifted me.

“Reanna!” she yelled.

I saw her run out the door. Father was close behind keeping one arm around Mother. He tilted his head back. His other hand raised in farewell.

Just then my sisters and brother reached Father and Mother. Mother pulled them close.

The clouds obscured them from view as I was lifted higher. My Bond carried me toward the Brilian Mountains that marked the end of the Valley and the Beginning of the Cloud Mountains.

I placed my hand upon the claw that encompassed my waist, “Where do you take me, Bond?”

Father told me the old stories of the Bond Mates. Those stories were outlawed before the Fourth Moon joined her sisters in the sky. Yet Father knew them so well.

“Your grandmother was a Story Mother in the old tradition. She learned the stories you hear at every festival. She also learned those stories from before they became outlawed by the Elders in this Kingdom and the others. On the darkest of nights when none of the Four Moons appeared she gathered us close and whispered those stories to us. Sometimes I think I remember those stories best. They became part of me on those dark nights. I breathed them in and they found purchase.”

I remembered nodding. Father told those stories on the dark nights, too. I could feel them wrap around me and within me like a scent that brings up memories until the scenes are more real than the current surroundings.

As I was carried up higher and higher I realized that the claw around my waist became like smoke or the wisp of a cloud as we approached the Cloud Mountains.

“Do not fear, my Bond. I will never let you fall. I will ever stay with you."

“Breathe deep. Take me in.”

I inhaled as if that voice commanded my very breath. The scent - oh, that scent made me smile, made my body tremble. I felt my breasts swell, nipples diamond points.

Creylashk purred and howled then hissed. She wanted me to pull from the claw that held me and rub myself against the scales of my Bond. We fought one another for control and he knew it.

My Bond’s chuckle followed. “Yes, that’s it. Let my voice take you as my body will take you soon enough.”

“You think quite highly of yourself, Bond. You have not yet deigned to tell me your name or why you so dramatically stole me away.”

As we flew low over the Brillian Mountains my Bond pointed to the Blue Lake at the top of Mount Aborl.

“That is where I was born,” he said. “Long before we became one with the Cloud People we lived upon the Earth. Still I miss the feel of the Earth changing with the season. There is a dance to the world that exists in no other space.”

I heard his longing. I looked down at the Blue Lake. It truly was one of the most beautiful things I ever saw. I could not imagine leaving that place in a lifetime.

“Why? Why leave such beauty?”

My Bond slowed, then hovered over Blue Lake. “Our choice was simple. We could stay and be killed - every one of us. Or, we could accept the help of the Cloud People who remained our friends through all the trials.”

With that, his wings swept down and we shot forward again.

“Sleep, my Bond. We will talk more once we reach the Cloud Mountains. It is not safe here.”

The claw round my waist tucked me into the scales of his chest. I knew my Bond was Dracon. As I rested against his scales I found myself brushing a hand over one scale then another. Soon, the scales began to vibrate. There was a purring sound that changed pitch depending on which scale I brushed with my fingers.

I fell into playing the scales. The sounds pulled me until there was a rhythm and tone to the sounds. I pushed my ear closer to the wall of scales and my fingers slowed, then stopped. My eyes closed. I slept. Creylashk slept with me. She curled around me touching me and touching our Bond.

Braertho gently held his Bond Mate. He had not believed the stories told on the dark nights when the Four Moons were not seen. He thought the stories of Bond Mates too fanciful.

Just the last turning of the Moons he felt a restlessness grow. His Matriarch watched him closely then pulled him aside after a day.

“Your Bond is close. Be aware, my son. In a moment you will know what you have to do and where you have to go. Remember what you learned from those stories you told me were just a bunch of lies. They are inside you and they will guide you through the claiming.

I looked at my Matriarch. She must not feel well to be saying such things. Before I could even open my mouth she held up her hand.

“Don’t," she said as she walked by me into the Gardens of Shiara. "You will discover just how true those stories are and you will add to them with your own.”

I laughed. I laughed and had to bend forward with the weight of my laughter.

The Matriarch smiled as she clipped flowers for an arrangement and pruned branches. She always carried a basket over her arm when she entered the Gardens of Shiara.

I once asked my Patriarch why she carried the basket. She usually kept the flowers she cut in her hand while walking the garden.

“Ah, good question. The Matriarich does not like to waste anything. She sees the beauty of the branch without the flower. When she prunes a branch, she claims it. That branch will become something within our home. You may not have noticed it for it may look very different from the branch you saw. And for that, she always carries the basket, with the pruning shears and gloves to protect both her and the plants.”

I nodded although I did not truly understand. This day, however, I realized that the Matriarch often called one of her hatchlings to her within the Gardens of Shiara. She would clip our arguments and dissents. She never threw them back at us. She molded them and gave them new life.

Time spent with her in the Gardens often left me with a sense that I had come up with a totally unique perspective on the core of our discussion. It would take me several days or months or years to finally realize she helped me talk in a circle until I met myself and looked with new eyes at my own position on the subject.

She pruned me.

That day when I followed her into the Gardens I was not myself. I felt ragged and on edge. She sensed what was happening with that intuition peculiar to a Matriarch.

“Sit with me, Baertho. It is time to hear one more story.”

I rolled my eyes though I was careful to keep that from her.

“Another?! I haven’t heard them all?” I brushed off the stone bench that circled her favorite flowers then helped her sit.

As I held her hand I wondered that I had not noticed how thin and fragile her hand had become. I remembered it as stronger, broader and without that slight tremor I now felt.

“There is a story of the ending of the Bond. Everyone must learn it as it is a truth of life.”

So, my Matriarch began the story. I heard the first words and I felt her hand smooth along my palm and soothe me. Then I heard the most beautiful song. The song called to me to follow, to find.

I rose, without even knowing and my Matriarch stood with me. She held my hand in two of hers.

“Yes, that’s it. Follow your heart, Braertho. Bring home your Bond. I would meet her before the next alignment of the Four Moons.”

I turned from her. Took three steps then turned back. And I felt this sound rumble within me and rise. I trumpeted with my head thrown back, arms wide. My Matriarch bowed to me. She bowed to me!

“Go!” she commanded. I knew it was the last command she would ever give me.

I leapt for the sky, wings unfurling as my scales crossed my body. My body elongated, my tail found its measure.

I leapt across the Cloud Mountains to the far edge of the Brillain peaks. The song pulled me, now it wove in and out of the scent that reached into the depths of me to push and pull until I thought I would go mad for want of my Bond.

So I flew down and down into the Valley. That Valley where they say there are no dragons.

I flew to claim my Bond Mate.

I Braerthor of the Dracon flew into the Valley.

I broke the barrier.

There will be dragons in the Valley.