The Petrified Dragon

I was lost and alone in an ocean-sized rainforest. My people fled over the mountains. I do not remember the reasons why. I was little, perhaps only four summers, and I did not notice lagging behind. The fauna and wildlife distracted me. Butterflies, birds, lizards, and monkeys all around, it was wondrous to behold. Thirst and then hunger soon made me realize there was no one else around to get me what I needed. I wondered which direction to search; there was no path. The vine-wrapped trees all looked the same. The ferns bowed as I pushed my way through. It was difficult to see any rocks, unless they were bigger than me, beneath the swaying green foliage. I stumbled numerous times. I grazed my knees, banged my shins, and frequently jammed my toes. I had to make my way around a large, steep isolated rock hill that had thrust itself through the trees, touching the sky. I was too tired to climb. I came up to a large moss covered stone and hopped up to rest. I had no idea that it was a carved stone, purposely placed. I lay back and stared at the underside of the forest canopy. The treetops seemed to spin and for a while I lay with a sense of euphoria. A sound made me sit up. I sat there, oblivious to the signs around me of a former civilization that time had forgotten, that the forest had devoured, when I heard it again.

A voice called to me.

I jumped up, looking all around, my pulse pounding. There were other carved stones, many in a row. I hopped to the next stone and the voice called again, closer this time. It was a low, smooth voice. People searching would have made other noises, so a lone voice was baffling. The trees were still. The birds and frogs and crickets and bees and the menagerie of the natural collective had all stopped as if they too listened to the mysterious voice.

I remember calling back, desperate to find my rescue.

"Over here...yes that's right...keep coming...'' The voice gave me direction. I ducked through an opening in what was left of a small wall. I brushed back the vines and squeezed through at the voices' behest. I stood in what would have been a courtyard from a palace that must have lain in ruins for a millennium. Cobblestones made unstable by countless belligerent roots made traversing difficult. There in the center of the yard stood a massive statue. It was a long serpentine body coiled around itself, with slender yet muscular legs and talons the size of my arms, a massive jaw with spikes and thick whiskers, and eyes that while being made of stone seemed alive. Fascinated and terrified I stared for a long time. The voice, now a whisper, and very much inside my head, said, "good morning to you."

"Who are you?" I asked.

"I should love to have your name before giving away mine," said the statue in my mind. I circled around it slowly. I had to remind myself to breathe.

"It’s Deenat. Who is talking to me?" I looked around for one of my cousins, anyone, playing this little prank.

"I assure you, we are the only ones here, Deenat. In fact, you are the first person I have seen in a thousand years."

"You can see me? Where are you? Why can't I see you?"

"Approach the statue and look into my eyes." A moment of terror gripped my throat. My jaw felt frozen. My feet would not move. I was suddenly much too cold for such a balmy place. "I am so glad to have someone to talk to," the statue continued. "Truly it is quite miraculous. Finally, the gods have sent me a hero." I wanted to stare into its eyes, but I felt myself moving up to stare into its devilish grin, poke my tiny head past the long fangs, look inside to see how far down the maw the darkness went. I shivered and stepped back to address it properly.

"Do all dragon statues talk?" I asked. My body still trembling, my jaw still stiff, I forced the words out as best I could.

"I believe myself to be quite unique. Sit down and tell me about yourself." The voice seemed so natural, so candid and serene. So, I did. I felt compelled to speak of our people moving, searching for a new home. The statue seemed intrigued and asked many questions. I do not remember them all.

"You are much too young to be alone in the forest at night, little Deenat. Stay with me. Here--there is a cozy spot for you to curl up."

"I need to find my family before dark," I said absently. "Don't be cross. You must be lonely here. Where is this place? What's your name?"

"So many questions, little one. If you must go, then you must return. You and I are friends now. Do you believe it?"

"I suppose so."

"Oh, it is quite true. And friends must be there for one another. Do you agree?" I only shrugged in response. "Come back once you have found your tribe." I promised I would and hugged one of its legs.

I spent the night, hungry and afraid, in a cave on the side of the outcropping of rock. I worried my growling stomach would attract all manner of predators to my location. I regretted leaving the dragon statue, but I did not feel compelled to return. In the morning I climbed to the flat summit and could see far across the treetops. Not too far was a number of smoke swirls and so I headed in that direction. I made it to the camp before nightfall. Safely back in the company of my people, I did not tell anyone about the strange dragon statue in the abandoned palace. It was my secret and I planned on visiting every day.

My plans never came to fruition until one day, twelve years later I made arrangements with two friends to try to find where I had wandered. Partly, I wanted to see if I had imagined the entire escapade, but the main reason we planned to travel was because I had told my friends about the palace during my first experience with alcohol and they would not let me forget until I took them to my secret palace deep in the rainforest. I made no mention of the statue. It felt too foolish to disclose.

Kush was my age and slightly taller. After letting him in on my secret he would place a crown made from twigs and leaves on his curly black hair while pretending to be the king of this ancient lost palace. It was always a hint for us to go there together and conquer the lost empire in the forest. Ginvenut was a year younger than us boys. She laughed a lot, which was why she liked us. She would say Kush and Deenat could even make the trees laugh. We could never figure out if that was a compliment but we both liked her and had started competing for more attention, which always made her laugh even more. We both wanted her to come. I wanted to surprise Ginny with the statue and win her affection once and for all.

We snuck away one night, and I followed a sparse inkling from a memory. We wandered for a week. Our spirits deflated quickly, and my doubts doused their initial enthusiasm. The morning of the eighth day we decided to return. Our empty adventure had had its laughter and its disappointment, but we all agreed it was quite done. We found a river and collected water for our return. We also decided to make spears and fish since our food had been consumed. I made the first spear and Ginny clapped and laughed at my bravado. Kush made his spear bigger and longer and sharper, and made sure we all knew it. I envied the look he received from Ginny. Out in the water, without the canopy impeding my vision I saw a familiar isolated ridge. They thought my sudden excitement was over a good catch. I wish it had been a good catch because Kush had already caught the biggest fish I had ever seen and had given it to Ginny who was slicing it open, cleaning it on a large rock.

We ran to the rock hill and stood atop its flat summit. We studied the canopy for what felt like hours. Finally, I pointed. There in the camouflage of the vines we could see the faint scraps of a ruined building. My heart leapt when Ginny hugged me for joy. We stayed on the summit that night, roasting our fish and making each other laugh well into the night.

In the morning we clambered over the ruined walls. Ginny reached out to me, and I grabbed her hand to help her over. I stared at our clasped hands. She giggled at my awkwardness. I did not realize that Kush had rushed ahead. I was lost in a moment of time. Her smiling eyes filled me with such joy. I took a breath and leaned in to whisper my secret of the dragon statue when Kush whooped like a maniac and broke the moment.

"Come look at this dragon!" He crowed. "Ginny, you should see it! You didn't tell us about this, you old rascal!" Ginny let go of my hand and without a second glance, she jumped down and ran through the opening. I followed at a much more deflated pace. All three of us stood before it and I explained my first encounter in this place. I included every detail.

"Why won't it talk?" Asked Ginny.

"It never could talk," Kush interjected. "It was all in his head." He rapped his knuckles on my head and leapt away from my retaliation. I did not give chase, but stood, quite disappointed, and stared up at the dragon that had befriended me when I was little. Kush found some other thing of interest and called out to us. Ginny answered and ran after him. I was unable to move.

"You have grown, little Deenat. I had hoped you would return sooner." the dragon whispered in my mind. I gasped for joy.

"You're alive!" I exclaimed and called my friends.

"Do they know why you brought them here?" The dragon asked. I was perplexed and tried to think of why it would ask such a question.

"I brought my friends to see you. Kush wouldn't have believed me--of course, I usually pull his leg, so it's my own fault, really--and Ginny; I think you'll like her."

"You should not have brought your friends."

"Why can't I bring my friends?" I asked. The dragon did not answer. I thought it was upset since the time between visits had been prolonged. "I did not know where you were, or I would have come sooner. To be honest, I wasn't sure if you were real. Let me get them and introduce you."

"You do not understand, Deenat." The dragon paused and I looked at him, struggling to understand. "They do not feel about you as you feel about them. I can hear them. They conspire against you. They think you are a fool. She will give herself to him. And they will laugh. They will laugh at you for thinking you stood a chance."

"That...that isn't true," I replied, unconvinced by my weak rebuttal. I couldn't think of any other words to say. It was too much to process. The dragon statue kept filling my mind with envious imagery. I could feel a surge of energy in my veins. Then more flashes of pictures–hundreds, thousands, millions. They collided and bounced in my mind until I could not decipher reality from illusion. I put my hand to my temple to block the pain--the searing, blinding pain. I heard Ginny laughing. It was the last thing I remembered from that day.

I was found on the perimeter of my community days later, stumbling, delirious, and alone. I lay comatose for many days. My family informed me once I awoke that my delirious ramblings never ceased. They asked about a dragon statue, but I could not answer. They asked about Ginny and Kush. Not only could I give no answer about them, but I could also not remember their faces. A mental mist shrouded them and the more I tried to focus, the more painful it became. People assumed the pair had eloped, gone to a different tribe but I could not quite discern why that felt wrong. My memory refused to yield.

Twelve more years passed. I have not laughed since. The sound of it sends me tumbling into an internal abyss. Instead, I set out to discover, to learn and research the origins of my statue in the abandoned palace deep in the rainforest. I needed to find out what it was, why it was there. There were too many questions for me to stay ignorant. I traveled to foreign lands. I met many people, yet no one could satisfy my queries. I found other civilizations with different customs, different stories, different legends and interesting lore. I absorbed it all, yet the origin of the stone dragon in the abandoned palace remained elusive.

I found myself caught up in a civil strife that escalated to war, and I suspended my quest to aid my allies. It led me to yet another continent, where, once the battle was won, we discovered an ancient library. For my heroic deeds I was rewarded. I wanted to read every book, so I asked to remain. Something in my gut told me the dragon would be found in these vaulted halls, somewhere in this labyrinth of pillars and shelves and tomes.

For twelve more years I perused every copy. The time I spent lost all meaning. The sun would traverse its path, the shadows sway across the floor thousands of times, the stores of lantern oil depleted and replenished more times than I could count. It was twelve years of hardship and suffering, for not only was my task menial and exhausting, but many dark dreams haunted me. One that recurred involved a woman who would beckon me to follow. Each time I tried to focus on her she would become like mist. She would lead me through darkness, and I knew the pit lay ahead, for I would tumble into it each time. In another dream I was fishing, wading knee deep in the water, spear in hand. I strike out and skewer something. The water turns to blood, and a long writhing serpent tail or some kind of tentacle lurches the spear from my hands, and then slowly coils itself around me. I am never able to flee. A third dream I saw frequently involved a hunting party. I am a member and I carry two large fowl, one in each hand, that swing with the rhythm as I walk across a grassy plain. We ascend an ancient stone staircase. At the top of a monadnock, high above the clouds we cast our wares into the maw of a hideous shrine. As I toss my fowl, I notice they are actually severed human heads. Each of them screams at me as they fall. I awoke after each episode, more terrified than the last. Because of my persistence and lack of sleep, my sanity waned, my appearance was altered by fatigue, and my disposition slowly soured as the days became years.

And then one day I found what I sought. Five heavy tomes entitled: ‘The Chronicles of the Kings of Pranesh’. It was all there, written centuries ago, waiting for me to unlock its secrets. I drank in the information like a nomad who finds an oasis in the desert. I memorized the necessary information and bid my farewells to the illustrious librarians with whom I had lived for a dozen years. My journey back to the ancient ruins took the better part of a month. Once in the rainforest, I quickly followed the landmarks that now seemed so straight forward. The time had finally come to face my dragon.

“Deenat! You have returned at last,” the voice in my mind made me cringe. The stirred memories caused me to hesitate at the edge of the palace; a heavy weight draped across my soul.

"I am not here to satisfy your hunger this time," I said to the stone dragon when I finally stood before him once more.

"I need your help, Deenat," the dragon said soothingly.

"You need to be destroyed," I said. I could feel its growl through the soles of my feet. Staring at it now, after all this time, after all the memories had slowly returned, the mists of my mind cleared, I expected a plea of mercy. It stared silently as I hefted my ax. I climbed atop the petrified beast, for I had learned that it was once a living beast, now trapped in stone. The spell had been cast as a last dying act from a magus trying to prevent the destruction of this beautiful palace, this once thriving capital city of the Kingdom of Pranesh. The effect of the spell had taken too long to prevent Ramalech from one last spree of malfeasance.

"Oh yes, I possess the knowledge of your name, Ramalech, you foul creature. I know the power I hold over you now. I know who you are, and I know what you have done, both in the darkness of your former existence and even in this eternal prison how you have manipulated me. I know it was you on the plains in Arragatuan with millions slain and enough blood to rival the sea. I know it was you manipulating the Impaler and the murderous spree in the three cities of Pranesh. I know it was you laying waste to this palace before the magi could stop you but, in the end, they did stop you and now you have waited for a millennium for the chance to kill vicariously through me or some other innocent wanderer unaccustomed to your guile. Those unspeakable acts have haunted me and now I am here for retribution." Standing on Ramalech's neck I waited for much longer than was necessary. "Have you nothing to say?" I savored each second, even though I knew this act of vengeance would do nothing to change the past but it would prevent a future of some other innocent child stumbling across this fiend in the wild, and if his former victims could somehow be gathered as a celestial jury urging me to carry out the sentence I deemed fit, then it also seemed fitting to draw its final moment out--make it suffer as all its victims had suffered.

The obsidian ax glinted in the sunlight, and I reemerged from my reverie. The blade rose.

"This is for Ginny." The blade fell. A resounding boom shattered the air. Every bird in the forest took flight; every monkey screamed.

I was suddenly sucked into a tunnel of kaleidoscopic shards of light, spectral hues of dizzying brilliance, the crisp delineations of arbitrary images, the crescendo of all sound both known and unknown, the vast whiteness of abyss and the final destination of darkness, of coldness, of...

Stone.

Ramalech stood before me. He was a very attractive, unageing man. He brushed off his arms, and marveled that he could touch himself once again. He smiled, stretched, and placed a hand on my stone snout.

"Thank you Deenat. I admit you took longer than I thought, but after a thousand years, three dozen is but a drop in a bucket. Indeed, you learned an incredible amount, but you did not learn everything. You were correct, however--I was in all those places, with all that death." He spoke with a melancholic tone. I screamed at him, but no sound came from my stone throat. He picked up my obsidian ax, felt its weight, then turned and walked away.

"I think it is time I caused more. Your people have a new home, don't they Deenat? I might just pay them a visit." Those were the last words I ever heard him speak.

I looked down, for the angle of my petrified head allowed me to see something nestled in the same crook of my coiled body that Ramalech had bid me to sleep when I was a child. It was two picked clean skulls--all that was left of my friends.

"Forgive me, dear Ginny; forgive me, dear Kush. I never wanted this. I never..."

Deep in the rainforest the size of an ocean, in the ancient, ruined courtyard of the Palace of Pranesh, encased in a prison that was not made for me, my tearless sobbing, a soundless lament with no end.