Sharalos

The sunlight streamed past the leafy canopy overhead as the caravan made its slow procession downhill on a thin strip dry mud, surrounded on all sides by thick forest lands. Insects buzzed around them like electricity, while overhead the clouds bulged gray, pregnant with rain. Down the twisting narrow trail there was a small pond filled with black water. A frog jumped into it, creating a splosh sound, and a white snake slithered in the water, its eyes charcoal black. The leader of the caravan was concerned about how he would get his people across the pond without the poisonous snakes biting his donkeys, or themselves. He looked at the rotting wheels of the caravan and inwardly winced at the damage this would cause. If the wheels broke when they were not even half way there yet, the caravan might not make it to their destination: Sharalos, the city of a thousand palaces, rich beyond imagination. He knew he could make a killing there selling the chest of emeralds he had brought along, disguised beneath cartons of patched quilts to deter thieves.

"Stop the cart," he said, and ordered them to make camp. They were five in number, the oldest and cleverest was himself, Mekano, and the rest were stupid brutes, little more than muscle men, riff raff from the streets of Brishjoon, people he did not trust. He had needed bodyguards after hearing about the bandits in the forests and he had picked them on random so he hoped they wouldn't back stab him but you could never tell with these kind of people.

"We need to figure out a way to cross the pond without getting the wheels wet. They are about to break off as it is."

"Boss, I'm hungry," said January, his black eyes glittering in the sunlight. "You said we can have the rest of the sack for lunch."

"It's not even three yet," said Mekano, sighing, "if we don't pace the food we might not-"

"...Make it to Sharalos, yeah I get it, but like I said, I'm hungry," January's hand rested on the hilt of his sword.

Mekano wandered if he should have bothered hiring these five goons, seeing as they were more trouble than they were worth. "Yeah okay," he said, "Let's sit down to eat. But first, get this cart away from the pond. I don't want it to roll into the water."

"Aye boss," said January, "Come on guys." The other four quickly followed his sharp command. Mekano raised an eyebrow, alarmed, as he thought about how quickly these supposedly randomly chosen goons had already organized themselves into a gang.

The four pushed the cart up the hill, and one of them, Herb, slipped slightly on wet mud, the remnants of last night's storm. But he gathered himself quickly with no harm other than a slight red tinging of his chubby clean shaved cheeks. Mekano followed them, letting them do all the work as he watched a yellow and black bird descend from the treetops, flying in lazy loopy circles around the quintet of travelers. Where had it come from, Mekano wondered. He had never seen such a beautiful bird before though he heard of the magnificent creatures of Sharalos from his friend Symon back in Brishjoon.

The bird went away, whistling a song that was lost amid the rumbling of the clouds overhead. It began to rain, swift and hard. The sunlight was gone and the forest was covered in shade. A streak of purple lightning cracked the sky, lighting up the face of January, who had left the other four to push onward with the cart while he stayed behind, watching Mekano with an appraising stare.

"Tell me, Mekano, what's in the cart... I mean it can't be just those shoddy quilts right? You're going to Sharalos, you wouldn't make such a journey with just torn up quilts, am I right?"

"I thought I told you never to see what was in the cart," Mekano said furiously. "Didn't I tell you?"

"The way I see it," replied January with a nasty grin that stretched across his dark brown face, "You must have something pretty valuable hidden in the cart."

"You aren't part of this venture anymore. You're out of the trip. I'll pay you your wages, but you can just leave and go back home." Mekano said with false bravado as he felt his eyes tighten. He began to grow afraid. He was an old man, thin and frail, and he didn't like the violent glint in January's black eyes.

"Oh I'll go home alright," January said, "After I get whatever in the cart."

"No!"

January pulled out his sword, "Is that so?" he hissed softly. Another streak of purple shot behind him, lighting up his face as well as the insanity within his features. Mekano was scared, his heart beat faster. He noticed from the corners of his eyes that the other four were watching the exchange carefully. They were no doubt in on it as well. January lunged at Mekano, stabbing his sword into the old man's chest. It hit metal.

The yellow bird swooped down just before the sword was about to strike and changed into a beautiful elven woman with golden hair and red tusks protruding out of her forehead, looking like a cross between a human and some hideous goblin. She intercepted the sword with metal braces strapped to her lithe arm. In her other hand she held a curved dagger with fingers that were long and bony. Striking fast, she slit January's throat with a clean swipe. Mekano recognized the symbol on the dagger: a streak of purple lightning that ran in the middle of the silver blade. It was the mark of Sheralos's Police.

"Ma'am," Mekano choked out at last, "Ma'am, the others are-" he pointed helplessly at the four goons running toward them, swords drawn.

"I will deal with it," she said coldly, her eyes as blank as a sheet of paper. Mekano swallowed, and averted his eyes to the pond, knowing he couldn't watch the slaughter. His eyes drifted to the pond, where he saw deadly yellow eyes as big as watermelons, belonging to a scaly green beast. It's head rested on the surface of the black pool, while it's body was hidden within the water's murky depths. Then it was gone. The creature descended into the water with scarcely a ripple. The yellow eyes had intelligence and cunning, and when it had captured Mekano's gaze, it seemed the creature had seen right through his very being, into his soul.

He heard metal hitting metal, and cries of pain from behind him, but he was lost in a trance. His eyes were glazed, unblinking, as he stared at himself on the reflection of the surface of the pond. How did he get here? He didn't remember walking toward the pond.

"Get away from the nest!" he heard her scream, but it sounded very muffled. He saw the giant yellow eyes rush at him, and he saw the creature's face... a dragon. It's snout was two tiny slits, breathing out a substance that looked like black oil. It's teeth were brown, rotting, and it's skin was wrinkled, with gray patches splotched on the dark green leathery skin.

"Come to me," the dragon whispered in Mekano's mind. Mekano prepared to jump but a hand gripped his shoulder. He tried to pull away and leap into the water, but the hand was strong as steel. The woman pulled him back onto safe land and slapped him hard across the cheek. Her nails raked into the thin flesh on his face, drawing blood. It snapped him out of the trance he had fallen deeply into.

"W-where am I?" he whispered, panting as if he had run a mile.

The woman simply looked at him, waiting patiently. Memories rushed back, disjointed, as if it had been a dream. "What happened to me?" he asked again.

"Never stare into the eyes of a dragon," said the woman, "My brother was eaten by one two years ago."

"I'm sorry," Mekano said. "Do you want some food?"

"Yes, I'm quite hungry," she said. Mekano's eyes were drawn toward the two red horns. It looked weird yes, demonic in a way. He knew it was unnatural, put there surgically by doctors, but for what? Sharalos was as mysterious as it was magnificent. He still remembered the marble white streets of the city even though the last time he had been there he had only been five years old.

"Will you take me to Sharalos? I don't want to be robbed by bandits," Mekano said, "I need a guard."

"Your last ones tried to betray you," she said, eyes mockingly cold. "You are obviously a bad judge of character."

"I..." He didn't know what to say. Instead he got out his black knapsack from the cart and shared the food. He gave her an apple, and a slice of meat and cheese as well as two slices of brown bread that were as hard as stone. She accepted the food and ate fast, ravenous as a lion.

Mekano watched her eat and thought that she ate sort of like a beast would eat. Her teeth were pointed and long and glinted white. Her eyes were hungry, and always moving. Averting his gaze, he gazed at the black pond. "Dragons..." he whispered, "Who would have thought I would actually see one... and live to tell about it." He laughed softly and continued, "My grandkids would never believe it."

"It was a water dragon," she said, "You are lucky."

"Thank you," Mekano said, "For saving me and all. I didn't know Sharalos Police patrolled this far outside the border."

"Don't mention it. It's my job," she spat out, glaring at the twigs in front of her.

"You don't like it?"

"Hate it," she replied shortly and after that she would talk no more, no matter how hard Mekato tried to engage her in meaningless conversation. After a while he stopped talking, and gazed into the fire. As he went to sleep he saw the eyes of the dragon burning into him in the back of his disturbed and disjointed mind.