Like Grapes From the Vine

“No, no, it is too early.”

A human child sat upon the vine-wrapped pedestal within the forest clearing, hands sifting through a small basket for what remained of her snacks. She seemed to be blissfully ignoring the shadow above her.

The shadow’s long neck craned downward. This young girl was alone, placed in the center of what had once been the heart of the Exchange. Disrepair left crumbling colonnades and forgotten halls, swallowed by the forest around it. Where once a crowd had celebrated the Exchange, now they left their young to be taken away. Lucky that this one had survived for however long she had been forsaken.

One of the shadow’s massive golden eyes met the child’s, the young one woken from her sweet-infused stupor by the sound of the shadow’s rumbling voice.

The girl took in the creature before her. Scales of emerald similar to the surrounding wood, dark moss growing between them. Long, branch-like horns with vines that draped across the shadow’s head like strands of hair. The large form of the creature, which had managed to remain relatively quiet within its domain. Folded wings that shifted ever so slightly as the shadow moved. Something her people knew well, though her budding mind had not comprehended it until this moment.

A dragon, old as the forest she ruled.

The dragon’s eyes narrowed, and with a voice like trapped thunder gently asked, “Why are you here, my dear?”

Smiling at the ancient, the human child exclaimed “I’m Derval!”

“That is wonderful, truly,” the dragon said. “Are you lost?”

“No! Daddy’s hunting. He said to wait.”

The dragon attempted a human smile, though it looked more like a snarl than anything. “You, my dear, are impressively patient.”

“Yup! Daddy said so,” Derval began to edge her way off the pedestal, moving closer to the creature.

“Well then, I suppose we will just have to wait for him.”

The dragon folded her long legs, eyes still locked onto the child. The sunset was not far off. Though she had not noticed a human hunter within her domain, the dragon saw no reason not to wait. If the worst came, she was sure a little flight to Dageraad wouldn’t be any harm.

A few seconds passed before Derval broke the fledgling silence. “What is your name?”

“Ciallmhar was what your people called me, long ago.”

The child’s eyebrows furrowed. “Ciall… sea all… mmm… arr… Sea!”

A low chuckle sounded in the dragon’s throat.

Darkness had settled on the forest clearing. Ciallmhar, concentrating on her connection with the woods surrounding them, had yet to detect another human presence.

“It is time to bring you home, my dear,” she said.

Derval, who had meandered to sit besides the massive dragon, looked up. “But Daddy said stay?”

“He did, but I cannot have you left alone in my woods. Come here, child.”

As Ciallmhar lowered her head, one of the moss patches on her neck spread to form a cushion for the young girl.

Derval hugged the dragon’s snout.

Ciallmhar sighed. “Not there, dear. Up. I will get you home.”

Over the course of many long minutes, Derval managed to make her way up to the seat of moss – aided by the gentle tilts of Ciallmhar’s head to get her there.

“The moss should protect you,” the dragon rumbled.

Though it stretched the limits of the clearing, she stretched her wide leathery wings. As her wings flapped, winds like a hurricane came down upon the forest. Trees bent with reveration towards their sovereign, and the brush was thrown to the clearing’s edge.

As the ground shrunk beneath her, Derval hung tightly to Ciallmhar. “Oh Sea! Woah Sea!”

Though the dragon began to break through the air before her, wind whipping with the speed of her flight, Derval remained where she was – barely budging on the bed of moss.

The canopy below her, Ciallmhar could see the wide swaths of her domain, even in the settling night. To the south was the wide Calwyn River and its many islands. Though she spotted the lights of human settlements among them, the Exchange was with Dageraad. They were the only ones who knew where to leave their young. In the northeastern far horizon, Ciallmhar could barely make out the shadowed outlines of the great mountains that bordered this land. Mostly ignoring the excited shrieks of Derval, the dragon gently glided along the Calwyn River. Even as she took off, she could see the many lights of Dageraad, faded as they may be. Though Ciallmhar could see the city from her domain, it had been centuries since she last visited.

It had been even longer since the city was good company.

The great stone towers of this place had long since crumbled. Here too, Ciallmhar’s forest seemed intent to swallow. Among the ruins of a grand civilization sat the shadow of the current one. Small wooden structures were built in the courtyards of the palaces. Ancient stone piers still shot out into the river, and the small human ships sat tied to them. With the water rustling beneath her wings, the ships shook as Ciallmhar approached.

Derval looked down upon her home with amazement. Ciallmhar looked down upon Dageraad with frustration. It seemed they had covered her landing with tents. In days past, the keepers of this city always maintained it for her, and it had once been a center of festival. Though it pained the dragon to make more of a rustle than necessary, no other place in Dageraad seemed fit for her descent. Already, her shadow had been noticed, and the sleeping people of the tents stirred. With one flap of her titanic wings, nearly every tent in her landing was flattened.

Ciallmhar thudded to the ground, not nearly as gentle outside her domain.

“People of Dageraad,” she thundered, “I am here to return a child!”

The many humans in the area ran in terror, scattering. A few remained trapped in their collapsed tents, but they did not offer a helping hand.

On the fringes of the landing, humans with their metal sticks fearfully watched the great creature as she waited for someone with authority.

Nearly an hour later, an older human man approached, surrounded by armored guards. He was bald, with a long white beard. Ciallmhar recognized him from the Exchange. While he had never been there for Dageraad’s contribution, he arrived shortly after Ciallmhar left her own. The man had not aged well since the dragon had last seen him.

“Keep her!” the old man shouted. “Leave your own offering at the Exchange, as is tradition.”

Derval, stirred by the loud noise, had not yet comprehended what the man said.

“Apologies, my king, if that is what you are. It seems you have forgotten the terms of the Exchange,” gently replied Ciallmhar. “It occurs once every 10 years. It is not every nine, it is not every eleven, and surely it is not every seven, as you have attempted today.”

“I am no king, merely the eldest of our council. Your deal was with Dageraad, not Arís. We have offered our end of the Exchange, and we hope you offer up yours.”

Derval, on the back of the dragon, whispered, “Sea, off?”

Focused intently on the councilman before her, Ciallmhar ignored the child for the time being. “My deal is with the people of this land, as written in stone. The Exchange is once a decade. No more, no less. Take the child of this land back.”

Grumbling, the old man motioned for his guards to approach the dragon. “Fine. We’ll take her.”

Two of the armored humans hesitantly approached. Ciallmhar lowered her head, the process of Derval getting down far easier with the help of the guard – even if they trembled as they did it.

Being led away from the landing, Derval waved. “Bye Sea!”

Ciallmhar attempted her imitation of a human smile again, which only resulted in one of the councilman’s guards stumbling.

“A decade may be suitable for you, dragon, but it is far too long for us,” the old man said, brows furrowed with frustration. “One of your spawn can save thousands of lives, though they are few and far between.”

“One of my…” Ciallmhar paused, a growl entering her throat. “What have you done to my children?”

The councilman sighed and said “Nothing they didn’t want to do.”

The dragon took a step forward, the force of it shaking the landing. “You’re making them fight your wars?”

“We didn’t make them do anything!” the man shouted, taking a few defiant steps forward. “They knew the risks, and they died for Arís! Buried with warrior’s rights!”

“With warrior’s rights? They are children!” Ciallmhar roared, air vibrating with her rage.

“Not to us! Not to Arís! The kings you made deals with our long dead, fleeing from this land when the sun would not rise. Those who remained when it finally returned are constantly beset. Every war we fight shatters bloodlines! You spawn armies like grapes from the vine!”

Ciallmhar, teeth bared, let silence take the landing for a moment. “This was meant to be an exchange of understanding. One of yours returns with knowledge of the dragons. A dragon returns with the knowledge of the humans. Sometimes they stay in a land foreign to them. You have not given mine a choice, and perhaps, in the future, I will not give it to yours.”

Her wings spread wide, the dragon looked down at the people of this city, the one supposedly the oldest and wisest among them. “I think, though this is not an Exchange, it has been one of understanding. I know your people far better than before.”

The winds swirled as Ciallmhar rose above the city that was once Dageraad. “Until the next Exchange, councilman.”

The city soon disappeared beneath her.