//------------------------------// // Chapter 3 // Story: Out of the Pan, Into the Forest // by SpikeShip //------------------------------// “So what’re your plans for today honey?” “Well, I’m thinking about picking the Marjoram patch after breakfast, they look ready.” “Wow, they came in early this year? I can’t wait to use it to spice up some new dishes.” “I swear, one of these days you’re going to get me fat.” “And I’d still love every bubbly ounce of you.” “Oh, stop it. Do you need help with the dishes?” “No, I’m fine. Just make sure you only pick the ripe ones this time.” “You’re never going to let that go, are you.” “You know I’m not.” It is a wonderful thing to have a life like this, a loving wife that laughs pleasantly with me when we go to do our morning chore, smile with me when we eat our meals in peaceful silence, and the shared urge to throw anything we have in our hands to the ground the instant we hear the other is in trouble. Truly it is a paradise. But again, I doubt you’re here to listen about how good my life is, you’re here to hear how I got here. Now let’s see, where did I leave off? Oh yes, my wife was starting to eat me when I got banished. So into the darkness I went, to find a new life to live in this wild land. True I had been in the forest before, many times, but never had I ventured far from town or after dusk, which was now my only option. I decided to travel as far as I could until nightfall, seeing that it was still a few hours away, while making sure to take note of my surroundings, checking for anything I might be able to use or fear and by the time night fell, I was a good five or six miles away, into what I could only guess was uncharted wilderness, bunkered down in a hollow tree that was still live enough to safely light a fire to keep myself warm. I hardly slept that night, I was thinking about what had happened, what had caused my misfortunes, what had caused my banishment. It seemed as though it was destined from the start, my birth and heritage alone saw to that, and it made me angry. At first, it was only anger towards myself, about what I was, about my body’s naturally ‘scary’ shape, about my razor sharp claws and teeth, about my fire breath, and especially my need to eat meat in order to live. Then my anger shifted to the random people who didn’t know anything about me, about who I was or what I have done for them, judging me solely for how I looked, creating stories to scare their children straight by me eating them if they misbehave, which I never pretended I couldn’t hear. Lastly my anger turned to my ‘friends’, to what little they had done for me over the years, though I admit my first birthday there was wonderful, but after it, I hardly got more than a smirk or laugh at my expense, even when I tried setting up things for them, they ignore me and Celebrate something somewhere else, rarely telling me. The anger was fueling me, making me think that I could go back and show them the monster they made me out to be, but when I thought about it, it made me sad for proving them right. I wasn’t a monster, I wasn’t the beast that will kill them in their sleep, I wasn’t the snarling dragon who set their children on fire to gourgue on the remains, I was the simple assistant for the town’s library, a newly hatched dragon, now alone. So the next day I set off again, walking until I could no longer withstand the pains in my legs at what I could guess was 20 miles from town at about mid-day as the sun was shining through the gaps in the trees. As I searched for a nice place to rest, I stumbled across a small cave just behind a fallen tree’s uprooted roots. I was no fool, I didn’t just peek my head inside right off the bat, I actually took the time to look at the hole itself to see if I can figure what made the hole, and after setting my stuff down on the fallen log, I sat before it and looked intently at its shape, size, and any markings. It was a decently sized hole, big enough that I could crawl into but not with much room, it was nearly circular, though a bit fat, it didn’t have any tracks near it, and it seemed to go on for at least a few feet, but as my legs were burning and the justified fear of what might lay inside, I grabbed my things and moved to a hidden vantage point close enough that I could see if anything came out. It was a boring wait, sitting on stakeout for nearly two hours, but as I began shifting to grab my stuff, there came a soft growl from the hole. I didn’t move, I stopped and peered as quietly as I could towards it just in time to see its head emerge. For what he saw, he was glad he took the time to wait, emerging from the hole came a beautifully colored snake. Well, I shouldn’t say that so blatantly, after all, at the time I saw it only as a black snake with gold on its back, due to the fact that my mind was still radiant of my anger. But looking back, I could tell that it was a scitalis: a rarely seen serpent that is known for its internal heat and the markings on its back that are said to be so beautiful that it lures you into becoming its next meal. Of course that’s not true in the slightest, sure its markings are elegant and wonderful, but they prey on mice for the most part, cooking them whole as they are swallowed. So after a short while watching the scitalis smell the air with its tongue, I again turned to leave for deeper woods when another noise catches me off guard. It wasn’t a loud noise, one that would’ve passed me bye if I hadn’t needed to pick up on them while I hunted, so I waited. The scitalis itself continued to smell the air as it slid around the roots, stopping briefly where I sat to look into its home before continuing out to what I can guess is search for food, and just as my hunting nature told me now was the time to follow it, I saw the movement I was looking for. It was fast. It was a blur. A black blur. But I followed as quickly as I could, at a safe distance of course, taking note of where the scitalis was going, as to predict where the ‘blur’ was heading. We followed a good five minutes before reaching a short, open field. The scitalis continued on into the thick grass, trading most of my visibility of it for where I last saw the blur. Again I waited in the bushes with my things slung over my shoulders, waiting for any movement or sound. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the last of the scitalis’ black scales disappear in the grass before the black blur finally focuses, slowly crawling out. It was another dragon! It was another dragon about my size, though a bit higher if it stood on its hind legs, like I usually do, along with a much longer tail. It had black scales over its body with many cuts, scratches, and marks of clear violence, with dark red spikes going down from its head to the end of the tail as well as white horns on the sides of its head that were pointed so far back that they were nearly touching its neck as it crawled slowly into the field as it followed the scitalis. I on the other hand, kept to my bush, mostly due to the fear of what it might do if it saw me, so I waited in the shadows. Watching it was almost like an out-of-body experience, seeing another creature hunt for the first time in my life, seeing as it slithered through the grass and waiting for the perfect time to strike. It leapt up into the air, pouncing onto the scitalis with its claws and teeth barred, killing it as soon as it landed, picking it up in its claws and turning back to where it came, incidentally coming directly towards me. It was about this point that I panicked because this was the worst-case-scenario: the potentially dangerous creature you know almost nothing about, heading towards you. Lucky I had enough sense not to move, sticking to the thought that if I don’t move it won’t notice me, but I flinched as I heard it speak. It had a soft, almost gentle voice, feminine if I ever heard one, complaining about how easy it was to kill the scitalis, as well as saying how good it will taste with the rat in it. I didn’t think about what it said, only on the fact that this might just be the first female dragon I have ever seen. But still, I didn’t want to take many chances, I knew nothing about her or what she was doing here, so I kept hidden as she went on, past the fallen tree, eventually leading to her own hide-out. Well, I shouldn’t say hide-out, it was more like a campsite, because that’s what it was: a fire and a chunk of leaves forming what I could guess was a bed under what I assume is a makeshift shelter, a slanted roof. And I continued watching as it brought its kill to a stump and began slicing it up with its claws, assumingly preparing it for dinner, when I took an eventful step onto a twig. Yes, yes, I know. The old cliché of stepping on the twig, but that’s what happened. The dragon turned as soon as it heard and looked right at me, shouting angrily with claws barred, asking if anything was there and the consequences that will happen if they don’t come out. I couldn’t really argue with that, after all, I had secretly followed it to its home like a predator would, waited in the bushes, and watched its every move, so I raised my arms up, belongings in hand, and walked slowly into the open, declaring that I meant no harm. It chuckled at that, saying I wouldn’t’ve been any threat at all, saying that I looked like a pansy who couldn’t even kill a wounded mouse. I kinda joked it off, asking if I could finally put my hands down, which it did before asking me why I was stalking her. I took a heavy sigh and said that I had been abandoned by my home and happened to see it killing the scitalis, and after explaining that it wasn’t called a lava-snake where I’m from, I said that it was the only dragon I’ve ever seen that looked around my age. Apparently, it took offense, not liking being called an “it”, apparently SHE was a girl, and had a name: Kzibas. Of course I apologised and introduced myself before she suggested we take a seat by the fire, I mentioned that I wouldn’t want to interrupt her diner but she said she didn’t mind and could share a few bites, which I declined just before a familiar feeling went up my esophagus again, but instead of ‘burping’ it out, I held my mouth shut and re-sent it with my fire. To her, it looked at first like a burp, but what I did with it confused her, especially seeing the green ashes floating away, prompting her appropriate response of, “what the hell was that?” “Honey! Do you remember where you put the grain? I can’t find it.” “I thought you were just going to farm the harvest.” “Yeah, but while you were busy mopping the floors, I thought I’d feed the pigs.” “Well, if it’s not in the shed... I’ll help you look for it after I’m done with this wet mop.”