Page 7 of Drakhana's Secret
Sometimes I prepare breakfast for myself, usually some fresh eggs from the communal chicken coop or if a pig has been slaughtered recently then a couple pieces of bacon. There are mornings where I eat breakfast with Baba. She makes the best oatmeal in Purple Mountain, full of nutrients and yummy goodness.
Other times, families invite me to eat with them. It’s usually those with fledglings that I’m teaching the way of tonics and salves. Or family friends. I don’t have to worry about where to get my meals because there’s always someone willing to share.
It’s the time spent together that’s the most important. Earth dragons are a close-knit community. We know everyone and everyone cares about what goes on especially when you’re a single individual. They say it takes a village . . . well, we are a village that’s ready and willing to help each other.
This morning, I’m walking to Baba’s hut. She invited me to breakfast so that we can get started on a big batch of sun block salve that the children need to keep their skin from burning when they are out to play. Summer is right around the corner, so we like to be ready with whatever our community needs.
Once we’re sure that those needs are filled, that’s when we start making tonics and salves that are being sold or traded with the other clans. These are boxes and boxes of product that we ship out to cities like San Francisco. The salves and tonics are actually what we’re known for. We use all-natural ingredients and they are effective. That’s the key.
Baba steps out of her hut right as I’m a few meters away. I raise my hand to get her attention. To show her that I’m on my way.
A group of whelps actually run across my path so I have to stop and let them pass. I smile. I love the sound of children’s laughter in the morning.
I’m about to step forward again when a massive explosion happens above us. As a group, we all drop down. Then we look up.
There, at the peak, are several fire dragons. They are circling our mountain. They are fire bombing the mountain.
Why would they be attacking us? What have we done to them? We actually voted to stay out of the fighting.
Without hesitation, I send out a psychic call just as the village around me starts to panic. I connect with all the elderly and the children. I direct them to a clearing in the forest.
It’s part of the contingency plan that was put in place years ago in case of any attack. We never enforced it, of course, because we never thought we would be in this situation. I hurry to the clearing as screams fill the air.
That’s when the fire dragons move from the peak to fly right above our heads. They chase dragons into their tunnels and blast them inside with flames. I put a hand on my mouth to keep from screaming. It’s so cruel to be burning them alive like that.
“Come on!” Baba says, grabbing my arms and practically flinging me in the direction of the clearing.
Good thing she’s there or I would have been rooted to the spot, forgetting that I have a responsibility to my brethren. There are already children and the elderly gathered in the clearing. I run to the center of the circle and fling my hands up above my head.
With my bare feet on the soil, I call upon the power of Mother Earth. It travels up my legs like a warm light and moves to my chest. It circulates there for a moment before climbing up my arms and dispersing through my fingers.
A forcefield dome forms above us right as a fire dragon passes. Through years of training, I’ve learned that isn’t not enough to have a protective force surrounding us. It needs to blend in with the surrounding area.
That’s why we chose the clearing for the forcefield. That way, I can fill in the blank space with what looks like just another canopy of trees. This is so that I’m not bombarded with attacks while I hold up the forcefield.
It’s harder to maintain that much energy when I’m being bombed. We actually tested it. I’d out up my protective dome the size of the clearing and earth dragons would send energy blasts down at me. I can only hold the forcefield for a few minutes.
With the camouflage, I can hold the layer of energy for hours if need be. It only means that I will be drained of my powers. Hopefully, before that happens, the attack would have stopped.
Each elder in the village is assigned a group of whelps and fledglings. Initially there is fear in the young ones. That’s totally normal since this is the first actual attack they have ever experienced in their lives.
The elders are scared too, but they hold it in better. They revert to distracting the young ones. Reminding them of what they need to do.
We’ve done drills where all the male dragons pretend to be attackers. Of course, this wasn’t a real attack so the children always stayed calm. With the chaos happening around us right that second, they’re more agitated. Some are even crying.
The elders remind them to calm down and stay as quiet as possible. The forcefield isn’t sound proof. If we’re heard then the fire dragons can turn on us.
I don’t know if this is a boon, but the explosions are loud enough to mask any noise the whelps are making. The fledglings have gone quiet, which is a good thing. The worst part is knowing that with each of those explosions comes a possible casualty.
My people are dying out there and the only way I can help is hiding away the most vulnerable of us. I’m tempted to call on the worse of our powers, accept what Mother Earth has been offering me and blast those fire dragons out of our territory.
That would mean taking down the protective dome and leaving the young and elderly vulnerable. I can’t do that do my people. I might be helping them by driving away the fire dragons, but that doesn’t mean I will be keeping them safe.
I don’t know how long I’m standing there with my arms up. Lactic acid starts to burn beneath my flesh from the strain. I try to push as much of my connection to that sensation away as I can so I can continue powering the forcefield.
My legs start to shake. Sweat drips down my face. The explosions and roars continue.
I clear my mind as much as possible. I go into somewhat of a meditative state. At some point, I call on my dragon for support. That’s right about the time I feel my brow has begun to furrow.
