Memories Of The Golden Dragon
memory I have had returned to me out of the swirling white mists of forgetfulness
was the death of my beloved. This memory was triggered by the
story of another that was close in many regards, but not exact. It
dredged up this memory. There was a battle against a great evil.
The form of this evil is still unclear to me. The darkening sky was
overcast with ebony clouds that looked like they were going to break into
rain at any second, but the rain held off. My love, realizing the
danger and thinking it was his duty to fight to protect us all gathered
the others and prepared for the attack. He assigned me to the end
of the line, trying to keep me safe. I wanted to fight next to him,
but knew he would be worrying about me and this would hamper his ability
to fight, so I let him place me thus, but it was a mistake.
The two sides gathered
in the sky above, forming two lines. My love launched himself into
the midst of the enemy like an arrow, flaming as he went, the flames
reflected off his golden scales. The fight was a series of darting
and flaming. I tried to watch him out of the corner of my eye, as
he was always in the thick of the battle, but I too was fighting.
When my opponent finally fell, ad the sky cleared, I turned just in time
to see him falling onto an outcropping of rock. I saw that he was
wounded and his right wing torn. I flew to him and put my body under
his trying to support his weight and ease his fall. I lowered him
gently to the ground, trying not to hurt his wing and then gently rolled
him onto his side to see the wounds that the blood was pouring from.
His hot blood melted the scattered snow patches and made water rivulets.
Alas he was mortally wounded. He had a gash in his underbelly and
a tear just above his heart. He looked at me with despair and love
in his eyes, while trying to talk, but then he died.
I ran away, trying
desperately to find anyone who could give him an honourable burial..
I remember running here and there and finding no one, heart sore, crying
in despair, almost blinded by my tears and then I remember nothing more.
The years following were lost in the swirling fog.