Purple and theTelepath

The mysterious and beguiling Knorr forest was bathed in an enchantingly seductive purple haze tonight, mused Dylonthe, the lovely dark purple female dragon. It is as if nature became enraptured with the color of my shiny scales and decided to be at one with my essence. Dylonthe smiled at her presumptive audacity. As she strolled leisurely along the forest floor, seeking a tasty morsel of deer or some other mouth-watering nibble, she felt the call and pull of the jungle-like undergrowth.

The full moon shone bright overhead, casting her red fluorescent glow against the blue and green canopy of the trees, transforming the forest world into it's unusual royal tinted glow. Trees whispered to each other as the wind playfully tossed their leaves back and forth. They grew thick and tall, with gnarled branches reaching out like tentacles ready to hug and squeeze you in their deadly grasps. These leaves had many secrets to tell if only you were willing to listen.

Beyond the world of the forest there was always a war being waged by the humans. Nearing the edge of the forest, Dylonthe could see the smoke from the many scattered villages rising and swirling upwards.

It was indeed sad that amidst the beauty of the land, the beautiful mountain ranges and the inviting clear blue rivers and streams, the inhabitants chose to forever fight and quarrel, instead of living in accord with each other.

"Can you help me"?

Dragon heard the voice in her head. She shook it side to side as if dislodging an unwelcome nuisance. There it was again, definitely a voice inside her head.

"Down here in the trees". A tiny voice said.

Stooping as low as she could, and looking searchingly among the roots of the trees, Dylonthe saw a small human child, nestled between an almost hidden and enclosed root of a large gnarled red maple tree. The child stood up slowly, she had on little pink tights, a little red dress, black jacket and tiny black laced up shoes. Around her neck hung an ornate black necklace with a miniature locket. Hanging crossways against her chest was a little bag used for carrying food. Her mother had not sent her hungry on her lonely journey.

"Well, what do we have here. Hello little one, I thought I heard your voice in my head. I must have imagined it".

"I can speak to everyone without speaking. My momma says it is a gift". She had not moved her lips, yet the words could be heard as clear as if she were actually talking out loud.

"This is truly amazing. What is your name, and why are you out here by yourself"?

"I didn't know if you could understand me when I spoke. I am so happy that you do". The child said.

"A long, long time ago, by use of magic and kind witches, we all began to know and understand each other, it is quite useful these days to be able to communicate without much of a problem". Dylonthe assured the child.

The little girl sat down on the small tree stump, curled herself up and started to cry. The thoughts and words came firing so rapidly inside Dylonthe's head, she had to close her eyes to fully understand.

"My mommy told me to run to the forest. They came and took her away. I hid in the forest and watched. They hurt my daddy when he tried to stop them. They set the houses on fire. The bad men wanted to know where I was, but my daddy didn't tell them. My name is Leana, and I want to find my mommy. Can you help me please miss dragon"? Leana had seen dragons before, her mother had told her not to be afraid of them. For they were peaceful and kind, unless you did something to anger them, then you had to be very, very afraid of the dragon fire. This dragon had a kind and beautiful face, her orange eyes with the large black slits in the middle shone and twinkled when she spoke. The little girl was not at all afraid.

The child could not only communicate without speaking, she could also manifest and project images into your mind. The dragon could literally see the images that were being conveyed by the little one's words. How was this possible? The images of the village on fire and people being killed, were so clearly represented in Dylonthe's head that she staggered backwards in confusion.

"What manner of child are you"? She asked, staring closely at Leana.

"I am a magical child. My mother is a white witch, although I am only three years old, my mother transferred all of her powers to me so I can save myself. I may sound old beyond my years, do not be surprised if I sound older than my age at times".

'Come, show me your village. Hop up on my back, and I will fly over to get a better idea of what is happening, I promise to go slowly, so don't be afraid".

"I'm not afraid". The little one pouted.

"So brave for one so little"? Thought Dylonthe.

"I can hear you". Leana giggled.

"Oh yes, I quite forgot. But tell me, can you turn it off whenever you want, so you can't read my thought or send me messages"?

"Father says I can. I get that from him, he has magic too. But I haven't learned to yet". She stifled a sniffle as the painful memories resurfaced.

"It's ok. I know someone who can help you. Don't you want to know my name, I know yours is Leana".

"Oh, I already know yours, Dyl......! I have named you Purple though, it is so much easier to say".

"I do love my new name, so purple am I, and Purple is my name. I will do my best to help you find your mommy".

"You promise".

"I give you my best dragon tooth promise". There was that giggle again, and so Purple now knew that she was on a mission against time, for who knows what would or could happen to this poor child's mother at the hands of these murderous king's men. Between taxation, pillaging, appropriation of the meager crops which the villagers could barely muster up to feed their families, life was indeed hard for the people. They now were resorting to the detaining and ultimate demise of witches and wizards, whom they believe were inciting the people to mutiny against their king.

King Taurian was a cruel monarch. He grew fat, as most rulers do, at the mercy of his half-starved and malnourished subjects. Dragons have been around for a very long time, yet no matter the century, things never change. The rich keeps getting richer and the poor among humans suffer at their mercy. Dylonthe could think of a few bad dragons among her kind, they too fight for power. Every species has it's own problems.

Purple approached the first village and flew slowly over . It had been completely decimated. Bodies were strew everywhere and the houses were all burning. She could hear Leana telling her that this was not her village. A few hills and wooded areas separated this town from the next. They had fared a little better, the houses were still intact, and dragon saw why. On the ground was one of her brother dragons, Bragnol. He had apparently come to the aid of the people. Purple landed in the town and went to help. The soldiers had been backed up against a wall, the cowards were whimpering and crying, as is the ways of bullies whenever they got cornered.

"Are there other soldiers not among you'? Bragnol demanded, spewing fire all around them.

"Yes, but they went to the other villages some distance from this one".

"That other one is my village, Brystaff. It is already too late". Leana said in his head.

"Brother, I need your help to locate this child's mother".

"Get on your horses, ride away, and do not show your faces here ever again, or you will not live to tell the tale". Bragnol breathed another fireball which caught their clothes alight. The took off running and dropping and rolling to put their clothes out. The villagers who were armed only with pitchforks and sticks, were all shouting with laughter and cheering. They had been no match for the swords and soldiers on horseback.

"Thank you dragons". They all chanted.

Bragnol turned his attention to his sister. "How fare you this day Dylonthe, why do you ride with a human witch"?

"Why, what do you mean, brother. How do you know that she is a witch"?

"Do you forget that I am an empath. I know that she is a telepath. I can hear her. But, yet some of her thoughts are hidden from me, I cannot penetrate her inner thoughts. Why is that I wonder"?

"We need to go now to locate her parents, particularly her mother. Soldiers took her away.".

Bragnol stared at Leana for a long time, something was dreadfully wrong with this story, he knew it. If only he could put his finger on the actual pulse of the confusion. His sister was always so vey trusting and naive.

"Come, Bragnol, stop this nonsense. We have to go now. It may already be too late". Dylonthe gently flew upwards with her small bundle upon her back.

Beyond the straggly tree line that extended from the hillside and dipped below the lower mountain range, was the village of Brystaff. There were a precious few game animals to compliment the measly diet of the villagers. The drought had driven them inland to the larger forests long ago. Flowing waterfalls projected from the rocks and served as a source of fresh water for the towns people. Not far off was a stream where they bathed or collected their bath water. Their small fields which they tended meticulously on a daily basis were now in ruins, burnt up by the soldiers. The houses here too, were on fire. The soldiers however, were long gone. A few of the villagers emerged from the forest lamenting their homes, their families and their crops.

Bragnol surveyed the landscape from up high. His senses were tingling so badly, he still was reluctant to be a part of the rescue group. He had such a bad feeling about the whole situation. Before he could voice his concerns however, Dylonthe was swooping down to the ground.

"Let's go look for my daddy''. She heard in her head.

"Dylonthe, no"! Her brother shouted, trying to stop her.

Before Purple even landed, the whole village transformed into a gigantic forest. There were no houses, no fields mountains or people. The waterfalls, nonetheless, flowed gently into little streams which trickled into the tree lines. There were however witches, a whole coven all decked out in pointy black hats and black robes, these witches did not have long noses or old leathery skin. They were magnificently beautiful, young and malevolently evil.

Purple could not move. She was trapped, unable to move from the spot where she had landed. Bragnol had hesitated, and this one momentary lapse had saved him from falling into the witch's trap. Leana slid down from the dragon's back.

"Beautiful Purple, I am so sorry to have deceived you.". She ran to the stately woman standing in the middle of the group.

"Mother, I hope that I have made you proud". As she neared her mother, the locket around her neck glowed blood red, and although Leana did not actually grow taller, her appearance appeared altered and more mature. She was obviously much older than she had first manifested. "I did try to warn you". Purple heard in her head.

High above the group on the ground, Bragnol was fighting for his freedom. A group of witches were casting a spell to lure him to the ground. But he was imbued with the spirit of the elders, he fought back with every strength in his body, He knew that he had to escape and save his sister from whatever fate awaited her. The table had been bitterly turned on her. The confounded child was not really an innocent child after all. Finally he freed from the weight of the force pulling him down. He flew hurriedly away to summon help for Dylonthe.

"We well be waiting" Came the voice in his head. "Evil cursed child, he replied". She laughed heartily.

Holding hands, the women marched and chanted around poor Purple. She now hated that name.

"We need your heart Dylonthe. Our queen is dying, it is the only thing that can save her. We need the heart of a pure and kind dragon. Our queen is dying, it is the only thing that can save her".

Around and around they marched, until poor Purple fell over faint and unconscious.

They took her heart. Poor Purple. Junio, the blood witch, reached in, using a magic charm, and slowly pulled out the palpitating heart. There was no wound. Just an empty cavity inside the chest of the unconscious purple dragon.

The queen of the witches ate it raw, with the blood still dripping from the still beating heart. As the gray haired queen lay in her canopied bed beneath the full moon, a great transformation came over her. She returned in age to her younger days, for another hundred years the dragon's heart will sustain her youthful, vibrant appearance.

Fear not, Purple is not dead. They placed her inside the Cave of Resurrection. Her heart will regrow. It will, however, take one hundred years. They both cannot survive at the same time. As his heart returns, the queen must ingest another dragon's heart, or they both shall die.

Bragnol returned with a dozen dragons. They searched high and low. They searched east, west, north and south. They searched hills, valleys, caves, mountains and everywhere in between. Alas! There was no sign of poor Purple. They are still searching even today.

Meanwhile, Dylonthe sleeps on in the Cave of Resurrection, never to be found for one hundred years.

Sleep well, Purple. We await your return.

N.A.