Many years ago, my roommate, Susy, gave me a poster for my birthday that featured the art of Greg Hildebrandt. It had a naked woman and a white dragon on it. I used to stare at the poster a lot for there was such a emotion there. It inspired a story that I’m still working on (surprise, surprise!). Here is first draft brain dump.
The village of Wheatborrow may not be what I would call a hotbed of excitement, but it is home. We have farmers, sheepherders, a nice little church and your typical Inn/Tavern which makes most of its money from the Tavern due to the fact that we seldom get travelers in our part of the country.
My name is Danathon. I’m fifteen and am the town messenger boy. My twin, Joniel, is also the messenger boy. We basically make sure that communication flows around our village as quickly and efficiently as possible.
Being a sleepy, little village, our job has a tendency to lack excitement. In fact the most exciting message I have carried has been about the birth of a new town member. That was until Ra’chelle came to our village, and quite nearly turned it upside down.
Ra’chelle came from the mountains that looked over our village. She had long, silver-blue hair and big, translucent blue eyes. Her skin was fair, and had an almost opalescent sheen to it. She spoke with a very strange accent. But what I think was the most unusual about her, was how she came to our village. She was as naked as the day she was born, her only covering being her long hair. She also happened to be leading a dragon by a silver thread.
Needless to say, Bo’ri’gard (that was the dragon’s name) raised quite a stir in Wheatborrow. I was the first person to see them coming, and so made straight for the village Head’s house, to tell her the news.
Arazelle is the oldest and wisest person in our village. She has a very strong will and is considered one of the best village Heads Wheatborrow has ever had. When I told her that a beautiful, naked woman leading a dragon was heading for our town, she just stood there and stared at me a moment.
“Have you been nipping at Zachary’s brew, Dan?” she said.
“Oh, no! ma’am. There really is a naked woman with a dragon coming right toward the center of our village!” I was out of breath and my face was flushed from the run. I must have looked like I had been drinking, not to mention that what I had just said did sound like a hallucination.
By the time Arazelle and I made it to the entrance of town, there was a small crowd of people watching Ra’chelle’s approach. When Ra’chelle had gotten within five feet of Arazelle, she stopped.
There was something very sad about her expression when she said, very slowly, “I look for one who breaks spells.” Her mouth moved funny, when she spoke, as if she was not used to making the sounds.
“Why do you come to us unclothed?” Arazelle’s voice was sharp. She was angry.
Ra’chelle looked down at herself, and then at the villagers. “Do you mean the fabric that covers your bodies?” She had this curious look on her face, like a child discovering something new.
At this, Arazelle heaved a heavy sigh, took off her shawl and tossed it at Ra’chelle. “Cover yourself and follow me.”
Everyone, including myself, moved out of the way as the dragon walked past. His eminence, and the sharpness of his teeth were enough to bring the eyes of every lecherous male off the soft curves of Ra’chelle’s body and onto the menace of Bo’ri’gard’s.
“Stableman! Will you house that dragon of hers?” It was more of an order than a question.
“But…” the stableman said. He was a very quiet, meek person of middle age.
“Just do as I say. If it didn’t hurt her, it’s not going to hurt you.” She looked a Ra’chelle, who nodded her head and let go of the thread.
The stableman, his name was Konrad, tremulously approached the dragon. It made a grumbling sound and Konrad started back.
“Did you hear that!” he said.
“Hear what Konrad?” the dairy farmer said.
“Hear the dragon talk? He said his name was Bo’ri’gard!
“We didn’t hear a thing.” A snigger ran through the crowd.
Ra’chelle turned. “He only speaks to, and can be heard by who he wants to. He communicates with your mind, not your ears.”
The stableman smiled at her and took the silver thread in his hand. He seemed much more confident as he lead Bo’ri’gard towards the stables. He mumbled to the dragon the whole way.
