Chapter One

Marvich

Exhibiting the signs of a worried man, Marvich took a moment from his daily routine to watch the sunset from the Balcony shelf and contemplated the inevitable. He glanced at his withered hand resting on a cane for support; time and toil etched into his skin like the contours of Calliandra. His back was now curved like an archer's bow, his frail body unable to stand straight and tall as it once had in the more sprightly days of his youth. He stroked his beard lovingly, (as he often did when considering important decisions), the sweet smell of Leela berries emanating from its soft, singed bristles. He smiled inwardly as he recollected the moment his beard was singed for the umpteenth time, although he could not remember it being funny at the time. He forced himself to turn his attention to the matter in hand but his decision was now made and he was now ready to make the announcement. He inhaled the evening air, inwardly digesting the vision before him. Marvich thought that the mountains of Orf were so very majestic in the evening light as the sharp black edges of the mountain peeks pierced the sky. Particularly so as the evening sun melted, silhouetting their magnificence and even though some thought they were eerie and oppressive, they were not to Marvich, for this was his home. Considering the enormity of his responsibilities as Dragon Trainer, and the Royal pedestal that he stood on, Marvich was still humbled by the sheer scale of the mountainous terrain and by the Dragon who stood at his side.

Marvich patted his brightly coloured hat down on his head, and then tilting hishead skyward he smiled, an almost toothless smile at the Dragon towering over him. With a fleeting thought Feach complimented Marvich on his choice of hat that day as his green eyes dazzled upon his mentor.

'That's just fine'. He praised Marvich enthusiastically using his favourite phrase that he used so often as it seemed to cover nearly every eventuality. He did, of course, have the occasion to use the words: 'That's not fine', but Feach always preferred to be positive. With the aid of his cane, (less of a prop and more of a necessity these days), Marvich began the first steps of a troubled future as he entered the Halls to the Infirmary. The young Dragon faithfully hopped closely behind. From the joint of his knee on his rear left leg there was nothing, no claw or talons, just the end, a stump, a useless appendage. It was indeed a mystery as to why he should be born that way and it was to prove to cause no end of difficulties for the Dragonet as he grew and began his training.

The Infirmary was an enormous hollow in an extinct volcanic mountain. Highly polished black rock walls reflected the light entering the porthole windows, long since chiselled to the out side world. Situated in its centre was a very large stone shelf, where Dragons would perch to be examined…or operated on. At its side were a set of custom made step ladders and a sling was suspended from the ceiling on a framework of wooden runners to aid him in his duties as healer to the Dragons. Thousands of little shelves circumnavigated the Chamber, each housing colourful homemade potions, (some only accessible when using the sling), concocted from herbs and vegetation grown in Marvich's garden. Many of the potions were inherited from previous Dragon Trainers and there were many that Marvich himself had developed to heal particular ailments. Creams for Tanet rash, (the Dragons were particularly allergic to Tanets), or for nose burns, ointments for claw rot and moredole bites, (usually in the ankle area). Eye drops are often needed for ash burns, ear drops for fillytip tics, nasty little bugs that lay eggs in the ear and when the larvae hatch they eat the earwax until their wings are formed and fly away. The most recent experiment that Marvich was trying to develop was a potion to reverse the effects of a Hammerspike attack. These creatures have spines that are shot at predators, causing permanent paralysis. Marvich's garden, a courtyard of plants holders and bowls carved into the black rock, had taken many years to develop to ensure that it provided the best environment for his plants. The soil was collected from the fields of Calliandra (and kindly donated by its inhabitants), the water trickled down the jagged mountains slopes into pools and into Marvich's irrigation system. The vegetation grew plentiful in these ideal conditions and provided Marvich with hours of joy. He had even fashioned a sun bed to relax on when his duties permitted.

The Infirmary was a bright, colourful and cheerful place, the black shiny surface of the walls reflecting rays of sunlight causing rainbows colours to scatter in all directions. Marvich believed the ambience in this particular chamber aided a speedy recovery. Little did he know that the Dragons would rather it was not so bright and cheerful, preferring the dim shelter of their own shelves, but of course they respected Marvich too much to tell him so.

Leading from the Infirmary were smaller Chambers where Marvich lived and worked. It was in these that he could get a small amount of privacy from the Dragons, although their thoughts were never far away. He had made his stone cave very inviting and very comfortable, (even though he could never invite another human being to his chamber, this would, of course, be inviting the Dragons to feast on their bones). There was a picture painted on cloth which was drawn at each corner and hanging on the ceiling so you could see it best when lying down. It was Marvich's own work, created on a fierce day when it was impossible to tend to his garden and when his duties to the Dragons were at a lull. The picture depicted Moredoles and flowers on a summer's day, Bluemeade and Leela scattered randomly around burrows and a bright sun reflecting on mountain pools, and he particularly liked the little Dragonet that he had painted sleeping in the luscious, green grass. All in all Marvich was pleased with his first, (and probably his last), attempt at painting and although the Mites might have had something to say (if they could speak) about him wasting material they had worked so hard to clean and tan, he hung it proudly on the wall for all….well maybe just him to see. As his hands now shook with age he knew he was unlikely to do another.

A variety of plants were dotted around in small chiselled hollows in the walls, it was evident that Marvich loved each and every one of them. The pots were highly decorated with bright colours and patterns. In one corner there were half a dozen yellow plants and flowers of varying shades, one with deep mustard coloured leaves that looked like they could be poisoness and some with the brightest and lightest yellow flowers almost too small to see with the naked eye. Then in another corner were all the red ones and on one wall all the blue. There was one, however, that was in a deep alcove of its own some distance away from everything else in the cave, with the words 'DANGER DO NOT TOUCH,' painted in bold red letters below it. It was clearly a very poisoness plant but Marvich still loved it for its pure and simple beauty, a big white flower with red veins running through the stem and leaves. On closer examination you would have seen the tiny spines on the leaves that would be jettisoned in your direction should you get too close and soon you would be lying on the floor, your body convulsing and starting to swell larger and larger until you were given the antidote…altogether a very unpleasant experience. At the other end of the Chamber was a very large bed that, at first glance, looked more like a layered sponge cake than a bed. Marvich had layered blanket after blanket, each a different colour on top of the wooden structure below. He would climb under as any blankets as he needed according to the weather, but lately he always felt cold and tucked under as many as he could. It was a wonder he could climb aboard at all and it must have taken ages to tidy it up again. (His secret was the very helpful little Mites). All in all Marvich's cave was like an explosion of colour, unlike the rest of the Chambers on Orf, which had a sense of cold dampness, and a diffused glow from the light of the fire torches.

Marvich walked over to his desk and held up to the light a polished Dragon's claw which he had constructed from the silver metal of the mountain. This wasn't just any claw though; it was a Dragon's leg and claw, equipped with moving joints. His eyes rested upon the healing blisters on his hands, a sore reminder of the difficulty he had digging the metal out of the ground, swinging his pick time after time to free the silver strands, the constant rubbing of the wooden shaft wearing away his skin. Nevertheless, he thought it was well worth the pain. He had worked on the claw whenever he had a spare moment, and even neglected some of his duties in the hope of getting it finished in time for the start of Feach's lessons. Marvich knew that Feach was in desperate need of some self-confidence and thought that it would be prudent to begin with rectifying his balance and giving him a much needed second leg and claw. Wearing a smirk of remembrance, his eyes shining as his mood lifted, Marvich gazed, trance-like out of his porthole window into the darkness. He knew it wasn't really funny, but poor Feach had more falls, trips and slips than he ought to chuckle at. When Feach was very young the other Dragonets frequently laughed at him, made fun of his inadequacies, as he often ended up in the trees and bushes, hopping uncontrollably when landing, but he didn't seem to mind and mostly laughed with them. How many times had Marvich had him in the infirmary with scrapes and cuts, he tried to remember. Now that Feach was an adolescent he put so much effort into getting just the basics right that when he did fall, it didn't seem so amusing….to him that is…for it was a constant source of amusement to his peers, who were repeatedly asked to control themselves and to be kind to Feach. So Marvich had decided to do something about it and began his mission, 'Project Claw', as he fondly called it. It had certainly been a challenge, digging for the metal, the blisters, then moulding it, the burns, let alone trying to think up ways of attaching it to Feach's remaining stump. All the same a challenge that, as it turned out, he had enjoyed immensely, a welcome change to making potions, gardening and his duties to the Dragons. He was also aware that it was probably going to be the last mission he undertook as his fingers grew stiffer every day. Not totally confident that his claw making skills were up to scratch he manipulated the joints one final time and then smiled at his success. He was thrilled and very proud that it was working well and put the claw back onto the desk, stood back and with a cheeky grin mimicked Feach.

'That's just fine.'

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