Chapter Five: Settling Sky of Dusk

Tranith Argan: Book 5

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Felanar and Dalonír encounter a dragon as they set foot on Dragon Island.

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A small band of elves gathered on the shore for their journey. Most of the crew was to stay on the ship, with only the few Findáran passengers accompanying Felanar. They were four in all. There was no need for greater numbers for they could not force their way through or defend themselves adequately even if they had ten times their number. They went as a diplomatic force, not a military one. The two Findáran knights with Dalonír were there to represent elven society and nothing else.

It was a warm, sunny morning with hardly a cloud in the sky as the four of them began marching toward the interior. The rocky beach gave way to dirt covered in grass and undergrowth-covered forest. The forest was not as thick as the ones in Elaria or even around Brindledown for there were clumps of trees reduced to burnt-out stumps. Felanar thought about Dalonír’s words and realized the dragons had eaten the rest of those trees. Perhaps it was the trees that had more to fear on this island than the small animals by the shore. Then he wondered to what degree the trees might feel fear, not that there was much they could do about it. Was the life of a tree on Dragon Island one long existence of dread? Or was he getting carried away by elven thinking?

They walked up and down the foothills with the forest thinning out at times and later reestablishing itself. They saw no life that morning. Any forest dwellers must have fled at their approach, though they were a band of three elves and one man trying hard to make no noise. At noon they stopped for a lunch from their packs. It was warm in the sun and they rested as they ate. Felanar finished his meal and closed his eyes against the light. His mind began to drift as he listened to the sounds of the forest, a rustling of leaves in the wind, a distant babbling of water, his own breathing. A shadow then passed over him, making him open his eyes and stare at the sky, just in time to have the sun reappear. He glanced at the elves and saw they too were intently scanning the sky.

“Was that one?” whispered Felanar. “It was,” said Dalonír.

“Were we seen?” asked Felanar.

“I do not think so,” said Rentelar, one of Dalonír’s knights. “Its flight pattern did not alter in the slightest as it passed over us. Probably it was not looking for prey or intruders and did not notice us.”

Felanar thought about the last time a dragon blocked the sun from him and how scared he felt. His relative calmness now gave him hope for it meant his mind was beginning to prevail against his emotions. Helóne’s words about why the dragons had a conflict with men made sense and he being part of the solution to this problem gave him strength. The shadows did not hold as much fear for him. He was feeling better.

They marched onward through the foothills. The distant mountains appeared closer each time they ascended to the top of a hill. Then they would descend to a valley and lose sight of their target until they climbed the next hill. As the afternoon wore on they drew ever nearer to the central mountain range. It was clearly a land uninhabited by man or elf for there were no roads or even deliberate paths, no plains where dwellings appeared, no pattern to the forest clearing. It was a wild land that was not so much cultivated by the dragons as exploited. Whatever civilization dragons created, it was not manifested in buildings or other structures. Perhaps when they got to their caves Felanar would see something other than the natural wild state. For now, however, they were alone on this island with only a passing shadow to remind them of its true inhabitants.

Dalonír had suggested on the ship that it would take a day’s march to reach the mountains, and that they should plan to spend the night before reaching their goal. They could then approach the caves in the light of the following morning. This all assumed they would not encounter a dragon sooner, and thus far this assumption held true.

As the sun set over the mountains ahead of them, they looked for a sheltered place to spend the night. Dragons, it was known, could fly at any time of the day or night, but generally were creatures of the day when their eyesight could do them the most good. While it was not impossible for a dragon to fly around a forest at night, they felt it was not likely. Felanar thought of that reasoning as they picked a thick clump of trees to set up camp for the night. He hoped no dragon would feel the need for a midnight snack of tree and pick these particular ones. Being now so close to the home of the dragons, it was an unsettling thought. Dalonír suggested that the elves take turns keeping watch through the night, and knowing of their keen vision even in the dark, Felanar found himself able to sleep well knowing he would get whatever warning he needed should something occur.

Much to his surprise, Felanar had a restful night with no dreams that he could recall in the morning. The elves had a breakfast ready for him for they were all set. Nothing was seen in the night other than a few small, curious forest animals. This morning, however, several dragons were seen flying off to the south from the mountains. The elves were sure they had not yet been spotted.

They began the day’s march now very close to the base of the first true mountains beyond the hills. It was a cloudy day but the white puffy clouds had no threat of rain in them. They walked the last of the foothills and onto a wide valley floor that stretched toward the mountains. Now they felt very exposed and were sure they would be spotted as soon as a dragon flew overhead. From the sky they would be four dark objects against the sandy valley floor. Since there was nothing they could do about it, in fact it was their intention to be spotted, they marched on. Yet as they crossed the valley they saw no signs of life.

When the valley floor began to slope upward, and as the first mountain loomed in their sight, they saw a path up the mountain. This was the path Dalonír had spoken of, and it was not a man-made path but rather a natural seam in the side of the slope that allowed anyone on two (or four) feet to mount the side in a relatively straightforward manner.

They reached the base of the mountain and began to climb. It was rocky and uneven, and there were times when the path almost disappeared and they had to scramble forward over uneven ground. For the most part they were able to zigzag their way up. They climbed until they heard the sound of wings in the air though they saw nothing. Cautiously they continued upward until they reached a natural ledge. Their breath caught in their throat as each rose over the top and could see that on this ledge sat a large dragon watching them intently.

His wings were folded against the side of his body, and his head had the same scraggly beard that Felanar remembered from his previous encounters with dragons. This one had redder skin than the others, and perhaps it was a bit older, though how one could tell with a dragon was not clear to Felanar. It just felt older, more mature, less impetuous. With its large eyes the dragon followed the movement of the elves and Felanar. Curiously he folded his forearms in front as he took on a pose of nonchalance despite the presence of these strangers to his island. Whatever the dragon felt at this moment, fear was the last thing on his mind. Was it a he, Felanar wondered?

Dalonír and the other elves stepped forward and bowed to the dragon, Felanar quickly following suit. As they straightened their backs, Dalonír said, “We bring you the greetings of the elves, noble dragon, and wish good health and long life to you and your family.”

The dragon shifted his weight and breathed deeply, filling the air with a sulfurous smell, but said nothing. Perhaps this was a dragon that did not speak their tongue and they would have to try to speak in dragon speech, but Dalonír had no experience with such. Only the very mature elves would remember such things, and for a moment Dalonír regretted that he was the one to accompany Felanar. He thought that his father would be more suited to such matters after all, and this had been Felanar’s original idea. Such musings were interrupted by words coming from the dragon, who did indeed know the language of man and elf.

“It is a curious thing to see such a party standing before me in such an incongruous place,” came the rumbling voice of the dragon. The sulfur smell grew stronger. “Never let it be said that the dragons are inhospitable when such noble guests arrive and show such respect as to bow before what is merely a guard. One cannot expect outsiders to be cognizant of the ways of our kind, however, and such a token of respect is accepted in the spirit in which it was offered. At this point, it seems to me, it would make sense for there to be introductions, and since you are the guests I will allow you to begin.”

These words had come forth in a melodious rumble that seemed mesmerizing to Felanar. The speech moved up and down in tone and rhythm in a regular pattern. It was pleasant to hear, something he never would have imagined from his previous experiences. He also felt little fear despite being so close to a creature who could swallow him whole should he wish to. The only fear he felt was a vague wondering if this was a trap, that the dragon’s words were not sincere. But as he thought about his past encounters with dragons, he could not think of an instance where dragons spoke in a false way.

Dalonír stepped forward and again bowed.

“My name is Dalonír. I bring you the greetings of my father, Llarand, leader of the Llaraín Findára, and the greetings of my entire family. Accompanying me are two of my people who form a royal court of honor extended to the dragons of this land.”

Dalonír glanced at Felanar as if unsure if he was to introduce him or whether Felanar would do it himself. Felanar acknowledged the glance and stepped forward and bowed again.

“My name is Felanar. I am the king of Tranith Argan and I bring you the peaceful greetings of my people. I stand here with Dalonír in friendship. Our peoples are united in wishing you well.”

The dragon shifted slightly and began to hum, it seemed to them. A deep sound came from within him and his mouth turned up in the dragon equivalent of a smile.

“You have spoken well,” the dragon said, “for it is known who you are from the appearance of your sailing vessel. Yes, we know of your journey here. You were spotted from the air even as we spot a darting rabbit from high in the sky. It is well for you that you spoke the truth. It is even more beneficial for you to have spoken your words with respect and honor. I would suggest you maintain such an attitude when you meet the rest of my people. But allow me to introduce myself: I am Settling Sky of Dusk. I would give you my name in my own tongue, but I suspect there are none among you who could understand it now other than as a series of sounds and grunts, and that interpretation would hardly do my name justice. Therefore allow me to introduce myself using a translation of my name into your tongue. It is not a perfect translation, partly because I am not a linguistic expert and may not be reaching for all of the correct words, and partly because I do not think the language of man and elf can fully capture the meaning of my name. Suffice it to say that when you see the sun setting over the mountains, and the sky turns orange and deep blue, and the wind dies down, and the scent in the air changes, that is me. That is what I was named for since that is when I was born.”

“It is an honor to meet you, Settling Sky of Dusk,” said Felanar.

The dragon cocked his head and got a curious look.

“No,” he said in his deep voice, “I do not like the way it sounds from your mouth. It really is not a good translation. In my native tongue it is a beautiful name. In your tongue, it sounds so very ordinary. Well, there is nothing I can do about these deficiencies. Still, it won’t do to have you call me that. Perhaps just Dusk will do if we have to have such an imperfect translation.”

“Dusk,” nodded Dalonír, “a lovely word in the language of man or elf, I assure you. Our names have meaning as well. My own name means ‘strength,’ for example.”

“Then why not call you Strength?” asked Dusk.

“Indeed they did,” said Dalonír, “for in Elven that is what Dalonír means and that is the thought that comes to mind among the elves when they hear my name.”

“That is a good name then,” said the dragon as he nodded. “What does your name mean?” he asked as he turned to Felanar.

“I have been told it means ‘place of healing’,” said Felanar.

“How can a person be a place?” wondered Dusk.

“Perhaps it is symbolic,” suggested Felanar.

“And have you healed anyone?” asked Dusk.

“No,” said Felanar.

“Then you are strangely named,” concluded the dragon.

Felanar did not know what to say to that so he merely nodded. In fact he had felt the same way about his name ever since the elves explained to him what it meant. Though he did not make the connection at the time that he had an elven name and thus this showed some sort of connection with the elves, this thought now came to him in a flash. The hints were always there, he realized. He had missed them all!

Dusk now raised himself on his legs and said to the visitors, “Follow me.”

His great red body moved slowly around, his great weight being supported by relatively small legs and arms. Dragons were graceful in the air but less mobile on the ground. Yet there was little doubt that even on the ground a dragon was a dangerous beast to reckon with. There was great power in those limbs, power enough to move the dragon quite quickly if the need arose.

They followed Dusk into the cave he had been guarding. The walls narrowed somewhat as they proceeded and the light from outside grew fainter. Up ahead they could see a slight glow in the gloom around Dusk’s mouth. A dragon came built with light for dark places. They followed the dragon as it moved over the smooth ground of the cave until it reached a place where the cave opened up again. The ceiling rose and the walls were spaced wider apart and they approached two other dragons who were standing guard there.

“You will go with my brothers,” said Dusk as his great neck turned around to face the visitors. “They will take you to our quorum. Again I suggest to you that great deference be shown as it would prove to be to your benefit should you accept my words of advice.”

Dusk edged his body to the side so that the elves and Felanar could get by him. As they did so, the other two dragons, browner than Dusk and larger—perhaps older?—eyed these visitors for a moment before nodding, turning around and leading them on into the now-widening cave. Behind them Dusk departed for the entrance where he once again stood guard.

“Do you think they get many visitors?” whispered Felanar.

“I shouldn’t think so,” whispered Dalonír.

“Who are they on guard against?” asked Felanar.

“They fear no one, so far as I know,” replied Dalonír. “I could not say why they structure their society in this manner.”

“We have old ways and we live old ways,” said the guard dragon on the left, turning his head around to show these visitors that a dragon’s hearing was exceptional. He turned his head back and kept moving forward through the cave but kept talking too. “It has been quite some time since the elves have come to visit and it pleases us to have you as our guests. I can assure you that we fear no creature. Our guard system is merely a societal structure that allows us to bring visitors into our world in a formalized manner. It has little to do with defense. I assume your elven sensibilities of the world are such that you take no offense if I point out a rather obvious fact that elves do not pose a threat to dragons.”

“No offense would be taken,” said Dalonír, “but is it really true that a dragon fears no attack? Is it not true that the arrow is a threat to the skin of your kind?”

“I would not say such things if I were you,” snarled the guard dragon on the right, “for the sender of such an arrow would not live long and the dragon would merely rip the arrow from its chest.”

“I believe you,” said Dalonír, “and was not suggesting you need worry about any of us attacking you.”

“Then you may yet walk out of this cave alive,” replied the dragon with an outer breath tinged with fire. Do dragons expel more fire when their emotions get stirred up, Felanar wondered?

The tunnel suddenly opened into a cavern of such immensity that Felanar's breath caught in his throat. The ceiling soared up into darkness, so high that the base of the mountain must have been hollowed out to create this space. Points of fire dotted the curved walls in an orderly pattern, climbing higher and higher until they were mere pinpricks of light in the gloom. But as Felanar's eyes adjusted, he realized not all the lights were stationary torches. Some lights blinked and shifted position, moving with deliberate purpose through the darkness. Dragons! They perched in alcoves and circled through the air, their own inner fire marking their presence. What had seemed at first to be a great empty chamber was revealed as a vast gathering place, alive with the movement of countless dragons.

"An extinct volcano," Dalonír breathed, his voice echoing slightly in the immense space. "They've made their home in its heart."

Felanar’s eyes were still adjusting to the light, but the more they adjusted the more he saw this room was full of dragons. They were all staring at the visitors.

“Climb on,” said one dragon guard as he lowered his body for the elves and Felanar to get on its back. They climbed onto the two guard dragons and one said, “Hold on” and they were aloft. The dragons beat their wings steadily as they soared high above the cave floor. The air was thick with the smell of fire as if they were near a house that had recently been burnt to its foundations. As they climbed higher, other dragons swooped closer to get a better look at the visitors. Felanar saw little detail in the darkness but the flames were vivid, and the dragons who got closest were seen to be like their guards in size.

As they neared the ceiling, high above the floor, their dragons flew toward one wall edge where an outcropping of the rock left a ledge. To that ledge they were taken, climbing off each dragon in turn until the four of them were standing on the rocky outgrowth. There was no railing or even rocks to line the edge, which was a long way up from the bottom, but the ledge itself was a good ten feet in width and double that in length so they had room to stand and move around comfortably.

But there was no doubt whatsoever that in this position they were now completely dependent upon the dragons. It was impossible for them to get down safely without getting a ride from a dragon. If this was hospitality, or if it were punishment, there could be no better place for the dragons to put someone if they wanted to make sure they did not leave or move about. So they waited, striving to see when the leader of the dragons would make an appearance. Dragons flew around them in the air above them. They were clearly an object of curiosity to these creatures. But they had no idea what dragon customs were and what they should do while they waited and what was to be expected of them. One dragon flew very close to them and they could smell his breath. Felanar felt very tiny and exposed.