This is part one of a double-update. Happy Thanksgiving to you! Take time to appreciate the invaluable gifts in your life as well as their generous Giver.
Chapter 14 – Enlightenment
They rounded a bend and she could see the stalactites sparkling, their surfaces glimmering golden in the warm light shed by the lumins. "This is it. Stay here or you might get lost, which is easy to do. I'll come back and treat your arm before it's time to feed Kapyn."
"Feed Kapyn? Should I be doing that now that I'm -?" she began.
"You'll be fine. It's scabbing over already, I'm sure. I have to get a quick jump in the pond and alert the pixies about the little situation of our head waiter at Bistro Kapyn."
Casey suppressed the desire to complain, and gripped the vine possessively as Ivan left her. The lumins went with him. She waited until the glow retreated into complete darkness, before calling timidly, "Light?" Obediently, insects from recesses zoomed around her head, which wasn't as pleasant as she thought it would be. They were glaringly close and didn't have a constant wave of illumination; but her eyes soon adjusted.
She looked about the glittering cavity, intimidated by the way the icicle-like spikes of the cave divided it into gloomy sections. She also found a thick roll of worn paper resting against a spindly stalagmite. It was similar to the sheets wrapped around her arm. Clumsily, she tried to pick up the roll, with one hand. It was wider than her palm could easily embrace, making it very difficult to wield as the sheets on the outside began to slide off.
She tucked the vine under her arm and used her other hand to grasp it, her wrist giving a slight twinge in the process. Even with two hands, the parchment succeeded in being unmanageable as Casey would unfold the curling ends of the stack of pages back, and they would break away and tightly wind up again. Finally, she was able to keep it in place with her knee and hands to see the inner page. It was filled with tiny writing, as though the author meant to use up every inch of space.
The first paragraphs began,
"My study of the dragons has left me with two theories: It is my belief that they settle close to us because of their carnivorous nature; and our instinctive ability to dominate and tame the animals they crave draws them to seek us out. The beasts of this land are known to flee before a dragon; and, in spite of the fact that it is competent in procuring its own prey, the dragon delights in receiving its meal while expending very little effort.
My second theory involves the relationship of our people to the dragons. While there is no documentation that I have found to prove the assertion, I am convinced that a dragon is able to exert some influence over the mind to bring men to serve the beast. This would give credence to the superstition prevalent in our community that the dragons are to be fed and catered to in order to keep a peaceful, harmonious state at all times."
Casey looked up from the script, her mouth open in shock. 'Dragons? Did he mean more than one?' And the writer had referred to men, not pixies! 'Then there are others here!' she thought delightedly. Looking down at the battered roll again, she recanted, 'Or were here once.'
She continued reading, though the passages became drier and drier, describing tedious accounts of community views on the dragons. She realized she was reading a journal of sorts; and that, while the author was knowledgeable, he did not seem concerned with fully explaining his meaning on many points. Still, she was able to glean that his opinions were not popular. In fact, she wondered if what she was reading was a personal means to air his doubts. She skimmed through the lengthy script, flipping pages and alighting on some segment that caught her eye. It was hard to be sure some small phrase wasn't important. Conversely, she wasn't even sure what she was searching for. She just wanted to know about the dragons, how the men fed them, what might be a means of getting rid of one. For, if she could gather even a particle of information to help her understand how to better live in this foreign land, she might fare better.
She had given little attention to the glowing, buzzing creatures around her, until the light began to dim. She watched as the insects attempted to eke out the last ounces of luminescence. Their tired bellies flickered one by one and went out. 'Poor things,' she thought, as she sat in the dark, wondering how long she'd been reading. Her eyes felt tired and welcomed the reprieve from the harsh lights.
Without the drone of the lumins in her ears, she soon perceived the drip, dripping of water. Casey was very thirsty after her sprint from the cave and tour of the gorge. Tentatively, she clamped her fingers over the slender vine and moved forward cautiously, listening for the sound of the water. Just a small pool in her palm would be – oh! – so refreshing. But the ground was uneven; and she began to fear her next step might end up being a multi-level fall into an abyss she could not ascertain in the caliginous cavern. So, she waited while the sounds of water in an unknown region beyond teased her into a greater thirst.
Fortunately, Ivan's footsteps were soon heard. "Light!" he exclaimed and bugs from another chamber surrounded him. She met him anxiously.
"Have the dragonflies gone back already?" was her first query.
"No. The pixies tell me they are at the pool in Kapyn's cave."
"The pool?" questioned Casey, her need for hydration even stronger.
"The pool where the pixies gather water," he said, looking around for a place to set down his armful of supplies.
"Um, Ivan?" she asked, as he knelt down to place them on the ground.
"Yeah."
"I'm thirsty."
"I brought some water for you." He handed her the shell of a fruit only a quarter of the way full. She drank it in two gulps and looked askance, wondering why there was so little. "I lost some of it on the way," he explained distractedly. "Okay, this is what you need to apply to your wound. It's very sticky; but when spread, will harden and seal it."
"Have you used this before?"
"Yes, Eth – I mean, Casey – I've used this many times," he answered impatiently.
Casey took the opaque substance smeared on a piece of tree bark. She began to apply it to her wrist, dubiously, before adding a little more to find that with persistence it did, indeed, cover the wound. She looked up to find Ivan watching her cryptically.
She smiled proudly. "Done," she told him.
"Okay. I'm giving you an option here: The pixies – well – they know you panic a lot. It has been explained to me that if you chew on this flower, it will make you more relaxed. And," he hurried on quickly, holding up his hand at Casey's attempt to interject, "I haven't tried this, and I'm not going to advise you either way. Just know that if you go into hysterics, there's no telling what Kapyn will do." His gaze was severe as he ended with, "There. It's up to you." He offered the pitifully crushed bloom in his palm.
"I don't know. It's just as probable that they would give me something to put me in a worse panic –"
"That isn't possible," he interrupted wryly.
Ignoring him, Casey continued, "to be certain I did get crispered."
Ivan shrugged. "Your choice."
"I don't know!" She put her hands to her cheeks in indecision.
"Just think about it, then. You don't have to decide now." He stuffed it back into the pocket of a piece of dark clothing lying on the floor. Then he noticed the roll of paper and the loose sheets near her feet. "Where'd you get that?" he asked sharply.
"It was there on the floor. Well, it was in one roll, but it was impossible to read -,"
"You read it?"
"I skimmed about twenty pages – the print is tiny! – and then the bugs lost their light."
"What did it say?"
"It talked about dragons and men. Did it mean men were here before or could they still be-?"
"Fiction," Ivan commented, dismissively.
"How do you know it's fiction?"
"It has to be. There would be signs of civilizations in the area if men had lived here in the past."
"How do you know there aren't?"
"Because I've looked for them, dimwit!"
"Oh, well that's that then. You've looked for the signs, and didn't happen to find anything telling – like a piece of writing or a whole roll of writing?"
"We don't have time for this. You've got a dragon to feed and I've got an escape to organize." She rolled her eyes and tried to cross her arms but hit the sore spot on her wrist, which was strangely stiff now. Looking down, she noticed how the salve had dried into a hard, white shield.
A/N: Yes, you are right that the roll of paper hints at something, but what?
Iliana11: I've read your review through thrice now. (Had to use 'thrice.' It's delectably old and quaint.) I'm sure you're on to something, but I just can't tell you! She is soon to find out one thing: what it takes to feed a dragon. Not fun. I like prophecies, too; but they are difficult to write. One has to know how everything is going to happen – or at least bluff well, including a few details. (I'm still writing this story, so I don't know exactly.) 'Like' each other? I sometimes wonder if Ivan and Casey will make it to the next chapter without killing each other. :) I lurved your review! – your grateful beta
Hazelcloud: "Did someone come through and get roasted?" *Snorts hot tea after reading this hilarious line.* (And, yeah, it didn't feel good; but I was laughing too hard to care.) About the roasted visitor: Sorry, there's nothing left to tell. Literally.
MertleYuts: Dearest Mertle, I remember reading your stories! (I think I was taken with 'Deformed' for a bit.) To think my story has caught your eye… How lovely! I'm honored. Many thanks.