Dara continued to turn around slowly, fearful of what he might actually see, and of what was making the strange noise, which he could now hear quite clearly. He stopped turning and stood facing the summit, rooted to the spot with fear, having forgotten about the sheep already, and almost about Holly too… but not quite.
“Holly! Here, girl… come!” he yelled, coming to his senses once more. He tried desperately to see what was making the awful noise, but still he couldn’t quite tell, or see, where it came from or what was making it.
The sheep were still galloping down the mountainside in the direction in which they had just been chased by Holly, as she now returned to Dara’s side, sat down by his feet and looked up at him blankly. He didn’t return the look but instead, stared directly and intently ahead, still trying to see what on earth was making this strange, awful noise. Whatever it was, it appeared to be just out of sight, over the top of the ridge which they had just come down over.
He then looked down at Holly - maybe for inspiration and maybe for courage - who was still looking up at him, her tongue hanging out one side of her open mouth as she panted, waiting for his next command. He found no inspiration from her, but somewhere, deep inside himself, he found the smallest little bit of courage - enough to make him want to walk in the direction from which it seemed the noise originated.
“You stay here now. Good girl! I’ll be back in a minute or two,” he commanded, as he wagged his index finger at her.
He patted her on the head then put one foot forward, slowly, never taking his gaze from the ridge in front. Then he put another, and another, until he got to the point where he could almost see over, and that’s when he turned to look back at Holly. She was still sitting obediently where he’d left her, some hundred yards or so back, still waiting for her master to give the next command. Suddenly, Dara felt the need for company, for he felt somewhat scared too, so he beckoned her to his side again with another sharp whistle. Holly darted up the slope and was sat next to him in no time, at which Dara felt a welcome sense of relief.
From where he stood now, he felt that he need only walk a few more yards and he would be over the top of the ridge and surely be able to see the source of the noise, which was now getting even louder. With that in mind, he thought it best to get down on his belly and crawl to the top of the ridge - for his own safety, in case there was something, or someone, that would have the desire to attack them. As he lay down on the ground, he winced at the unpleasant damp chill penetrating his clothes from beneath him, then wriggled himself forward slowly. Holly followed along closely behind in her own similar canine version of his crawl.
Upon nearing the top of the ridge, something to his front-left, toward the summit, caught his eye briefly. It was like a bright flash in the sky, it seemed, like lightning, but then not. Well, it couldn’t be lightning, he told himself. Firstly, there wasn’t a cloud in the sky, and secondly, it was winter, so how could it possibly be lightning? Then, he wondered if he had gone mad. He shuffled himself round a few degrees to his left, still on his belly, so that he was directly facing where he thought he had seen the flash just before. This way, if it happened again, he was sure he would be looking in the right direction and have a better view of it next time.
Dara didn’t have to wait long as, within a few seconds of repositioning himself, what appeared to him to be another bolt of lightning originated from a point in mid-air, a couple of hundred feet above the mountains summit. It shot straight up, not down, into the heavens above and with it there came an audible, crackling sound. As he continued to focus his gaze in the direction of the summit, which was now just under half a mile away, he became aware of something else, which he understandably hadn’t noticed before.
Just below the point where the lightning bolt had emanated from in mid-air, there appeared to be a haziness, or distortion, in the very air itself, which expanded as it reached down toward the summit. Farther below, at ground or summit level, it appeared to extend several hundred feet in either direction and was really only noticeable by the way it distorted what you were seeing, like heat haze does in summer. As Dara carefully studied the haze, he worked out that it formed a type of giant, dome-like shape.
Just then, another bolt of lightning shot up into the sky above, with another loud crackle which startled him briefly. He focused his eyes on the spot in mid-air now, directly below where the lightning had originated from, noticing now that, floating in the air, there appeared to be swirling mist which had a faint, bluish tinge to it, slightly darker than the blue of the sky around it. The swirling patch of bluish mist appeared to Dara to be something in the region of several feet across and hung in mid-air, at the top of what he was now telling himself was a giant, transparent dome that shot out lightning every so often. What manner of magic or trickery must this be? he puzzled.
He lay there motionless, on his belly, with Holly at his side and continued to watch intently. As he did so, it appeared that, slowly and steadily, the dark blue swirl grew larger in diameter and now formed a large ring, and also appeared to be descending slowly through the air as it expanded, approaching the ground below at a slow but steady pace. He kept watching, never taking his eyes off the strange sight in front of him as it sank lower and lower in the sky. After another ten minutes or so, the swirling ring of blue mist had grown to about two or three hundred feet in diameter and was now just over a hundred feet off the summit.
As the ring of mist continued to descend toward the ground, Dara observed, astonished and in complete disbelief, as what seemed to be four shimmering, white stone turrets appeared to rise out of it. They seemed evenly spaced - about two hundred feet apart, he guessed - and he also guessed correctly that they formed the four corners of a large building, or more specifically, a castle. Dara was so in awe of what he was witnessing that he hadn’t even noticed that his heart was now racing madly. His mind was also racing with thoughts of what was unfolding in front of him, and questions. What could it be? Who could it be? Was it real, or a strange dream?
The great, shining, white stone castle continued to reveal itself over the next few minutes or so, as the swirling ring of mist continued to descend. When the mist was only a foot or so from the ground, and the castle now fully revealed, there was a final loud crackle, accompanied by a bright blue flash, as the ring of mist vanished and then, there was only silence…
Without even thinking, Dara rose to his feet to get a better view, throwing caution to the winds now in the process. He was completely speechless following the events that had just occurred and looked down at Holly, who was still lying on her belly beside him, staring back up at him with what appeared, if possible, to be a surprised look on her face. Dara was now the one with his mouth hanging open.
At this point, curiosity got the better of the dreamer in him and his fear was almost completely overcome. He could see no obvious signs of life or danger anywhere, and the castle appeared to be uninhabited, from where he now stood. He took a deep breath and started to slowly walk in the direction of the vast structure.
As he walked, he took in every detail of the castle. The four turrets, first revealed, were almost a hundred feet tall and thirty or so feet in diameter, and were distanced evenly, as he had suspected, so the castle formed a perfect square. They were connected by walls of almost the same height, which appeared to curve outward slightly as they rose from the ground and then curved completely inward at the top with no apparent edge, like the hull of some great ship. The entire structure appeared to be made from the same white, shimmering, marble-like stone which appeared to be somewhat reflective, as he could see both the ground and the blue sky around reflected clearly in its surfaces. Both the walls and the turrets were crenellated along their tops and the only openings appeared to be small archers’ slits dotted here and there on the walls and turrets, and several small windows here and there, near the tops of the turrets. He wondered now if anyone was watching him from one of these windows but thought it unlikely - or at least, hoped not.
He carried on slowly, forward, toward the formidable structure, noticing that within the ramparts sat a tall, circular tower, which protruded well above the walls as it stood taller than everything else around it. It was some thirty to forty feet in diameter and had a conical, slate type roof. The uppermost dozen feet or so of the tower appeared to be entirely made of glass and around the lower edge of this were what appeared to be ornately carved stone birds, set into the walls every few feet. He assumed that the entrance must be on another side as he was unable to see any way in from where he stood.
As he neared the castles’ perimeter, now only about fifty yards away, he lost sight of the tower due to the sheer height of the walls. Oddly, he thought to himself, there were still no signs of any life as of yet. Perhaps the castle was abandoned many years earlier, he pondered. He pressed on slowly, one second looking down at his feet and the ground ahead so he didn’t trip, then up at the walls and turrets.
Holly was once again by his side as they both now approached the castle from the south-east together. As he stared up at the turret nearest them, he noticed what he assumed was a statue, set into a niche in the turret wall about three quarters of the way up. It appeared human in form and size but seemed to have a pair of large wings folded across its front and was the same colour as the rest of the stone from which the castle was made. He looked once more at the ground to check his footing briefly, then back up at the turret, but thought he was imagining things or had gone mad again, as the statue that was white only a moment ago was now the blackest of blacks.
Suddenly, there followed an ear-piercing shriek, which could only have come from the direction of the castle, and which made Dara think that an eagle was swooping on Holly. He quickly turned to his side, briefly looked down at her and saw that she was safe, and then turned to look back at the castle in front but did not for one second expect what he now saw before him.
The black statue, which was once white, was now no longer a statue it seemed and was stood directly in front of him, no more than five feet away, swaying hypnotically from side to side slightly, with wings folded across its front as before. His heart suddenly leapt into his mouth and fear gripped him inside, rooting his feet to the spot where he now stood. It was all Dara could do to mumble the word, “Huh?”
He noticed that the creature, if that was indeed what it was, was extremely unusual, in that it seemed to have a glossy, almost liquid kind of skin, if such a thing were possible. He also noticed its rather disturbing lack of any facial features, despite the human like head, and small bump that resembled a nose on what would be its face if it were human. There was no mouth, deep sockets with no eyes, and no ears, it appeared, and it was completely naked and completely hairless and smooth all over.
Suddenly, it stopped swaying in front of him and in the blink of an eye, fully extended not one, but two pairs of wings with a somewhat loud, ruffling noise. One pair of wings was set slightly lower than the other, he observed, and were slightly smaller in size, and both pairs were similar in shape to those of a bat. The creature started to sway again but this time fluttered, or shook, its wings as it did so, and Dara wondered, oddly, if it was doing some kind of dance perhaps. He was too scared to ask - too scared to say anything, in fact - and he then realised that he too was shaking, but in his case, it was from sheer terror. He was just about to look down at Holly again to check that she was alright when suddenly something wrapped itself around him from behind, gripping tightly and restricting his arms and legs. In fact, it was such a firm grip he couldn’t move at all and could just about breath.
It was then that he realised that there had been another one of these creatures behind him all along and that the one in front had served the sole and specific purpose of distracting, or mesmerising, him while others moved stealthily into position behind him, just out of sight. He then looked either side and discovered that there were two more of these creatures stood several feet away on either side and just behind him as well, so there were four in total. Then, it dawned on him - one for each turret, they were guards or look out sentinels, he presumed.
They were in fact called Shawan, and were formidable creatures, no less, conjured up by Danu magic using animated minerals from the earth such as oil, tar and limestone amongst other things. They possessed amazing strength and blinding swiftness in flight and were very adept in combat. Their most useful trait, however, was that they could not die, as they were not living things, thus meaning that they could not be slain on the battlefield.
The one directly behind Dara had almost completely engulfed his arms, torso and legs in its lower pair of wings, making it virtually impossible for him to move. He tried to turn his head to get a look at it, then thought better of it, based upon what he could see either side and in front of him. They all looked identical. He looked directly at the creature in front and as he did so, it tilted its head slightly to the left and a wry kind of smile, lined with dozens of tiny white, needle-like teeth, appeared across its face where there was no mouth before.
Seconds later, as he was still staring at the creature to his front, there came a strange, loud whoosh directly behind him. The next thing Dara felt was the particularly odd sensation of himself being jolted or lifted upward. His immediate reaction was to look down - maybe because he could no longer feel the ground under his feet, or perhaps because the creature in front was now disappearing below him. And yet, the ground was still there, it was just getting further away, and he suddenly came to realise he was being flown through the air.
“Arrghh!” he screamed out in terror, as they flew swiftly toward the castle wall…
Meanwhile, inside the castle, Oran stopped rubbing his eyes and removed his hands from them quickly, at the same time staring in horror at what was happening in front of him. What had been a large, bluish coloured, egg-shaped crystal was now an amber to almost red egg-shaped crystal, with very little blue remaining. The crystal was now so hot that it was in the process of boiling the water in which it was sat. He realised to his horror that, as he had somehow fallen asleep, he had allowed the egg to heat up. Now, it was going to hatch, and they would lose the time cocoon forever, he feared.
He jumped to his feet, frantically grabbed the pitcher of water on the floor and swiftly began pouring it onto the egg, but soon acknowledged that his efforts were worthless as the water instantly turned to steam when it made contact with the egg, as it was already searing hot and now almost totally crimson in colour. He dropped the empty pitcher on the floor and took a step back, realising that his attempts to preserve the egg were futile, all the while staring wide eyed at the scene in front of him in sheer terror and panic.
Oran continued to watch in shock as the last of the water that the egg was sat in boiled away, and everything became bone dry. The entire egg was now glowing crimson red and there was the distinct, awful smell of burning. He stood there, rigid with fear, waiting for the Fire Dragon to hatch from the egg and fly out through the hole in the roof, but after a few moments nothing had appeared, and he found himself wondering if something were wrong with it.
At that point, as he stared on in dismay, the uppermost part of the egg started to turn black and smoke started billowing out of the top of it. Within the next few moments, the rest of the egg turned firstly to black, and then to what appeared to be ash, then slowly it began to crumble until there was nothing left on top of the plinth but a small pile of smouldering ashes, but no baby dragon. He was completely speechless and just stood there, staring at the top of the plinth. Thoughts were racing through his head now, about what would happen to him when this came to light.
He didn’t have to wait long to find out, as the heavy wooden door to his left swung open violently and an angry looking lean, bearded man in a long leather coat burst into the great room, closely followed by two huge Irish Wolfhounds whose heads were almost level with his shoulders. The man stormed over to the plinth and stared at the ashes in what looked to Oran to be a mixture of complete disbelief, anger and shock. He then swiftly swung his head round and glared directly at Oran, who was now flanked either side by the two wolfhounds.
“Where is the dragon, Oran?” the man demanded angrily.
Oran, who was now shaking with fear, looked at his King and murmured, “I… don’t… know… Sire. There… appears to be no dragon, just… ashes.”
Just then, Oran began to weep, as fear of what was to come sank in deeper. Seeming to doubt that there was no dragon, King Lugh turned and reached his hand out to the pile of ash and ran his fingers through it, as if hoping to find something in there, but there was, indeed, only ash.
“Tell me what happened, Oran,” the King ordered.
“I don’t know S… Sire, I… I… I fell asleep… I th… think,” Oran stammered through his tears.
The King turned to look at him again, now with an angry scowl across his face.
“What do you mean by, you think you fell asleep? You mean you did fall asleep, Oran, and that is why this has come to happen… no?” Lugh raged, as his mind raced with thoughts of how to overcome the tragedy.
Oran stood with his head hung in shame now, staring at his slippered feet as he continued to weep, not knowing what to say to the King next. Lugh turned to stare at the ash again for a moment, and then turned to Oran again and said, “This will require the immediate attention of the high council, I fear. You have committed a very selfish act, with very severe consequences, against your people - and you have put the safety of all of us in great jeopardy, young man. There is absolutely no time to lose. We must act swiftly.”
“But I didn’t mean to, my Lord,” protested Oran, defiantly.
“Silence now! Stop with your blubbering at once!” Lugh snapped, as he motioned to the two other men who had been waiting silently, just beyond the door. “Men, take him to his quarters where you will watch over him as he gets dressed, and then escort him down to the lowest level of the castle, please. Wait with him in the dark chamber until I summon him.”
Oran hung his head in shame again, wondering what awaited him in this mysterious lowest level of the castle. He had never been below ground level and until now, he frankly wasn’t even aware that there was any part of the castle that extended below ground. He was now very afraid that he was doomed to spend the rest of his existence locked away in a darkened cell underground - this dark chamber which the King spoke of - beneath the castle.
The two men now marched in and approached Oran. They said nothing as they took an arm each and led him off to his quarters to get dressed. Oran did not protest, knowing that it would be pointless.
As the men marched out of the room with him, the King shouted after them, “Have the guards tasked to the walls and turrets immediately, men. We find ourselves vulnerable for the first time in three hundred years. Who knows what’s to come of this!”
The King remained in the room for a few moments, alone, staring at the ashes and thinking of his next course of action to protect his people. It was then that he was joined by his champion, Cethen, who strode briskly into the room, having also just discovered the morning’s terrible events. Cethen too stared at the pile of ashes for a moment and whispered, calmly, “What of the dragon, my Lord? What shall I do, my Lord?”
“I have given the order to task the entire guard to the walls, to keep watch along with the Shawan sentinels. I need you to release the fireworms into the grounds surrounding the castle as well and have them patrol just below the surface as a precaution. Can you do that for me, Cethen?” Lugh now whispered back to him.
“Yes, of course, my Lord. Right away,” Cethen replied, then asked again, “What of the dragon, my Lord?”
“It would appear that three hundred years got the better of it, my friend. Possibly a good thing for all of us,” Lugh replied pensively, as he stroked his long beard.
“Probably so, Sire. No telling what could have happened had it hatched and survived. I shall go now and take care of the fireworms and the guard, for I fear that there is no time to lose, my Lord,” Cethen said.
He looked briefly toward the hole in the ceiling and then turned and hurried out of the room, leaving the King and his two dogs behind.
King Lugh sat down, in the chair previously occupied by Oran, with a heavy sigh and heavy heart. He hoped desperately that there was a way to fix this before they were discovered by anyone from the outside, enemy or not. No matter what, they could not risk discovery after such a long time hidden from all on the outside. He found some comfort in the knowledge that no-one ever ventured up here really, especially in winter. He also felt reassured by the fact that the exterior walls of the castle were very cleverly designed and fabricated in such a way as to reflect their surroundings like mirrors, so as to give the illusion from a distance that the castle was in fact not there at all. The last thing they needed, he now reminded himself, was discovery by their old enemies, and there certainly weren’t enough of the Danu people left to withstand another great battle like the ones fought before they came to this refuge.
Lugh sat there for a few minutes longer, again stroking his long thin beard, as he formed a plan in his head and thought to himself that it may have been good fortune for him and all of his kind that he had bestowed the gift of immortality on the dragon, Rydian. He had had three hundred years to prepare for such a catastrophe and now all he had to do was find her, which would most likely be no easy task, he thought to himself. Asking her to perform the same favour once more by providing another egg would also be no small feat, especially in light of the fact that he didn’t have much to bargain with that she might want or, indeed, need.
Just then, an elderly elf in a long white robe walked gracefully into the room alone. He had an extremely long beard and long silver hair that was tied back in a pony-tail and hung almost to the floor at the back. He was known as “Murchad the Wise”, and was believed to be the oldest inhabitant of the castle. He walked over to Lugh and stood beside him, at the same time resting a frail, boney hand on his King’s shoulder.
“Odd news. We have a visitor, my son. The Shawan have retrieved an outsider found wandering nearby and taken him to the tower, along with his dog,” he said, softly.
“What? Already? Does he appear to be any kind of a threat to us, Murchad? Was there anyone else with him, or just the dog?” Lugh enquired with concern.
“It wouldn’t seem so. It appears he - a human, no less - was checking his flock of sheep on the slopes nearby when the fuss of the failing time cocoon attracted his attention, or curiosity. He might, however, become a threat if he is released back to his people and talks, obviously,” the old elf said thoughtfully, as he too now stroked his long silver beard with his free hand.
“I had better go talk to this man then, I suppose, and try to determine what we should do with him exactly. Thank you, Murchad,” Lugh sighed.
“Troubled times ahead, my Lord. You must plan with great care,” the old elf warned, cautiously.
Lugh stood up, sighing again, and put his hand on the old mans’ shoulder.
“We shall prevail, my old friend,” he said, softly, and walked off toward the door with his two dogs following, thinking of Oran and what he would soon be faced with in the chamber of souls. He felt sorry for him in a way. He stopped at the door and turned toward Murchad.
“I may just have a plan that will save us - a plan that will involve a somewhat perilous quest to seek out the last remaining Fire Dragon, if she is indeed still out there somewhere. Let us hope and pray that she is, my old friend, no?”