The Dragon’s Nub
Short Coat and Nana venture on a voyage.
The spring rains had been uncommonly bountiful this year. She could see the damage the swelled mountain stream had caused on its release from Faeries’ Glen. There the creek stumbles onto a broad bend before outspreading its banks and proceeding more measuredly across the meandering foothills where her clan’s villages sprawl.
As the day of her betrothal to the soothsayer’s obese son approached, she increasingly sought the comfort of the trees, brooks and wildlife on the rare occasions she could slip out of the village after finishing her chores.
Her whole family were bouncing with excitement as bear cubs that she was being bartered to an influential household for an increase in her kin’s social standing!
She snorted in annoyance, and her dog companion, ShortCoat, gazed enquiringly at her. Like her late grandmother, she had always been rebellious and posed odd questions that made people uncomfortable.
They had climbed down the considerable depression in the stream’s twist that a bank landslide must have caused in the past week. ShortCoat ventured a few steps ahead among the tumbled compound of wet earth, rocks and shattered branches, where he stopped to wildly sniff at the ground.
His excited barking broke her train of thought. As she knelt beside him, she observed the uncovered part of what seemed to be a faintly shimmering shield of an unknown smooth substance the colour of the full moon. Almost imperceptibly, the uncovered surface was raised near its edge, forming a slight nub the size and shape of an adult’s palm.
She studied the protrusion for what seemed to be an eternity, breathing ever more rapidly, excitement swelling in her. She became oblivious to the mountain breeze that enveloped her, the approaching dusk and her whining four-legged companion.
She proceeded as she had always done; where others would run for help without glancing back, she moved onward, facing the challenge with Nana speaking softly with encouragement.
She put her hand on the nub.
The pain in her head was excruciating, yet momentary. She felt embers in all of her limbs, which trembled into a voice.
“I apologise for that calibration mistake; have been buried too long. I need a genetically perfect human to co-host my decision-making loop so I can activate emergency evacuation measures and return to a star system with maintenance capabilities.”
“What? Please, I do not understand. Are you a demon?” she stammered.
She can touch its grin.
“No. But I can simplify your decision. Are you ready to leave your village and family forever, to travel across the heavens and interact with new people?”
She glances at her dog, lying on his belly, watching her pleadingly.
“Can ShortCoat go with us?”
“Of course. And your Grandmother.”
She shouts out her answer, and the ground shakes beneath her.
This text was first published on X (Twitter) and is © 2023 by David Pahor. No part of my stories should be used to train AI technology to generate text, imitating my writing style.
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