Dragon Born: Book I of the Tendaaren Chronicles

“A man’s true wealth is in the good he does this world” --Muhammed

A tingling sensation writhed around Alyenna’s toes and fingers. It was a strange burning sensation that would not go away. A shiver coursed through her body. She was still frozen from the inside out. Where am I? Came a hazy thought from the far corners of her mind. Which she quickly banished, when she felt her face scrunch in pain as a cramp screamed its way through her muscles, and she cried out.

“You’re awake.” came a deep and strangely familiar voice.

Alyenna strained to open her eyes. Her head pounded fiercely like a Tao drumming ensemble was using her skull as a taiko drum. She rolled over onto her mattress and groaned loudly. It took several more moments to adjust to the darkness of her environment.

As she adjusted she caught the smell of a what could only be a barn? The smell of sweating horsehide, damp feathers, and feed all lingered together creating a strange perfume in the air.That cannot be right. She insisted to her sordid conscious. I am in the mountains not a farm, right? She heard the gentle flapping of an enormous feathered wing and a gentle clip of hooves on a stone floor. As she was almost convinced she was in a barn when she heard the gentle dripping of liquid on a stone floor and then a roar echoed around the cave which caused a loud crash.

“Shhhh,” Came the deep and familiar voice again. It was soothing something, but it was certainly not aimed at her. She heard feet on the stone floor shuffling away from her.

Memories started to flood back. They seized her heart with fear and pain. The dark demonic eyes of Paul stabbing through to her soul. The painful and terrifying feeling of insipid cold encasing her body. Then the sweet blackness of death as hit tickled her from within.

More scraping against the stone floor as the feel of wind brushed past her face. Another strange cry forced her into awareness. She forced herself to roll over. She had to see where she was. None of these sounds and smells made sense. She should not be here, wherever here was. She should not even be anymore.

Death had taken her, she knew his hand now. It is a gentle hand much less terrifying than she expected. Like the rocking of a crib into a slumber, from which you would never wake. She wanted to return to that peace. She settled back into a resting position wishing for death to hold her hand once more.

A bat flew at her head thwapping its wings energetically against her hair. She chuckled lightly and accepted that she was not allowed to give up yet.

So she strained again to open her eyes, and blinked rapidly in an attempt to adjust to the cavern, lit only by a gentle dancing flame in the very center of the room. As she sat up she saw large clay pots covered with porous linen lining resting atop ramshackle shelving. The shelving existed intermittently throughout the room with large hand carved tables beside them. Various glass instruments and tools were strewn across each one.

The cavern was immense with pointed stalactites that clung to the ceiling. Their points reaching out to their stalagmite friends that lined the cavern floor. Their presence combined with the flickering fire created terrifying shadows of fangs and wings on the walls. Which, she assumed was an effect of her dizzy brain and the stalactites.

In the far corner of the darkness, she saw the silhouette of an enormous beast. Its head the shape of a falcon but its body was that of a lion and it had wings. As she blinked away her confusion she realized it was not a shadow at all. It certainly was not the illusion of the fear-inducing rock formations. For the shadow did something that rocks do not, it moved. The head shook and strained away from a hunched figure that crouched near it.

“You’re a griffin!” She exclaimed, excited to have been rescued by a beast of magic. “Of course you came for me!”

Another deep chuckle echoed through the cave. “No, I am not a griffin. That’s Pontus.” A loud fluttering call mimicked his laugh.

She propped herself up on her forearms. Straining at the effort as another chest seizing cramp ricocheted throughout her body. Wincing she tried to find the source of the voice. Out of the shadows came a large hunched figure covered in fur.

Fear clung to her, hammering through her thawing blood vessels, and shooting adrenaline throughout her body. Moments before she screamed and ran from the cavern she allowed reason to slowly override her fear. This is not Paul, and this man is most likely the reason I am alive. she lectured herself. Steeling her nerves she forced a congenial smile.

“Who are you?” She whispered to the shadowed man. He strode into the light of the campfire. The orange glow finally illuminating his full form and he stood tall.

“The better question is who are you?” He had shaggy raven black hair that framed his square face. He was well over six feet tall with broad shoulders. This imposing figure should have terrified her but she was captivated by his eyes. They were a deep teal color like the Aegean sea. While they held a delicate twinkle they were also filled with a deep well of sorrow.

Something deep inside her pulled at her soul. Her heart tightened at the site of him. “I know you.” She said trying to glimpse deeper into his cloak. “How is it I am in a new world and I do not remember ever seeing you; but, I do know you?”

He watched her for several agonizing moments in complete silence. Studying her. Unconsciously she pulled tighter at her blanket, in a subconscious attempt to shield herself from his prying eyes.

After what seemed like an eternity he stormed away from her to the center of the cavern. “All I know is you have her face; but, you are not her.” He said as he huddled over a time-worn pewter cooking pot.

“Who are you talking about?” Alyenna asked cautiously her confusion and suspicion mounting.

I am alone in a cave with some mountain-psycho babbling about some mysteriously missing ’other woman.′ Awesome! Another terrifying thought seared into her brain and she double checked under the blankets and heaved a relieved sigh. This time she was clothed.

“Never mind,” He said bringing back a bowl of strange smelling stew. “Why were you naked and alone wandering the mountains?” He handed her the bowl.

The steam of caressed her face as she hungrily ate from its contents. “It’s a long story.” She answered evasively.

“Well, we are alone in the mountains, your leg is injured, and you are still in the after stages of hypothermia. So until I choose to help you leave, you are stuck here. A friend of mine owes me something maybe you can pay for it with your answer.” He paused dramatically and his teal eyes bore into very core being. “So choose your next words wisely.”

Her mind raced to Baellnar and the secrecy of their mission. No matter who this man was he could never know what they were doing. She could not trust anyone. “Then you have a long time to wait,” Aly said thumping her empty stew bowl down on the table.

The mysterious stranger shrugged off her impetuousness and moved towards the griffin. Who cried out to him in greeting and lifted his left front talon. It was then, that Aly noticed that the ankle of the great creature stuck out at an odd angle. It cried out as the man began to unwrap the thread worn bandage from the badly injured leg.

“What have you done to that beautiful creature!” She said launching herself out of the bed and across the room accosting him. She attempted to drag him backward but she did not get far. Immediately the Griffin snapped ferociously at her, his beige and ivory feathers scintillating in the firelight. His predatory eyes alert and penetrating were inches from her face, moments before he reared high in the air. His warning caw was powerful and pushed her hair behind her in its force. She steadily retreated with her hands up in surrender and stepped gingerly and emphatically backward.

“I did nothing to him.” The man said absentmindedly. He patted the griffin gently on his furry back. His other hand glided under the foreleg of the creature. “This was the result of another Griffin. Pontus is young and tried to assert his dominance against others of his kind at an early age. He has learned his lesson though.” He said clicking gently at the creature and scratching his chin. Pontus brandished his head in the air but was quickly pacified by the man’s ministrations.

He does not hurt us. Said a gentle voice in her mind. It sounded like a teenager whose voice was breaking in puberty. He heals us. Aly allowed her eyes to meet Pontus’ the birdlike head cocked sideways and nudged the man next to him emphatically.

Aly froze in place and watched the man much more carefully now. He tenderly rubbed a strange blue salve on the leg of Pontus, and as he did she heard a small clicking sound emanate from the bones of the creature. She was mesmerized as she saw the leg adjust itself ever so slightly.

There was a long bout of silence again as the man worked. Pontus started to purr under his ministrations and small white slits covered his eyes. Alyenna watched in amazement as Pontus who moments before was about to attack her, was falling asleep under this man’s care.

His voice broke her reverie. “You are clearly not her.” He spoke lightly in disgust. “She did not always assume the worst in people.” With that, he finished wrapping Pontus’ leg and tossed some sort of rodent in the air for him to catch. Pontus happily swallowed the treat and curled up on the ground in a feline position he then wrapped his enormous wings around his body shielding his eyes and face from the light. Gentle purring sounds started rustling his feathers and Aly smiled watching as such a powerful creature became a gentle mess of feathers and fur.

Alyenna careened around in front of the strange man. Her stance was wide and defiant and she met his admonishment with her own. “Well, I am sure she had never been captured, beaten, and left naked to wander the frozen mountainscape.” Alyenna was seething. She hated being compared to some random saint of a woman who she never met. “I do not enjoy living in this mysterious strangers shadow.”

“You should get used to it, you have her face.” His face was inches from hers now. “Why did you steal her face? What are you?”

“Well actually, that last one is a great question. As for the first one, this is my face. I have always had this face, and I am not sorry that it offends you!” She growled. She inched her face closer to his insubordinately balling her hands up into tight fists. “As for the latter, I am currently trying to figure out exactly what I am. So any and all details you have would be extremely helpful.” They met each other’s gaze both defiant, both glowering. Aly chose to be the bigger person, metaphorically. She took a single step back and stood up straight uncaring of how much taller he was than her. “How about I asked the first question. Who are you?”

He snorted. “That is really what you want to ask?”

She rolled her eyes. “That and what are you doing in the mountains other than being an irritating hobbit? I figured the first one was more polite.”

“Fine, my name is Cameron. As for what I am doing here, apparently rescuing ungrateful brats.” He shuffled off into another corner of the cave. A tiny growl emanated from the corner of the cave in which he had retreated.

Alyenna watched his back in shock. He cannot be that Cameron can he?

“I was not done with you.” She announced and stalked after him grabbing a log from the fire as a torch.

“I need more supplies. Come make yourself useful.” She walked over to where he was standing. “See those sacks of herbs and spices. I need you to grind these into a pulp. Make sure match the name of the herbs in the bags to the ones in the Jar. It is crucial that these do not get mixed up.”

She helped him for several hours in silence. Crushing herbs and holding up the contents of the jars in a vain attempt at approval. He would only respond in grunts as he worked on mixing the different herbs together into poultices and other vials.

As the time waned on Alyenna’s suspicion of the type of person she was isolated in this strange cavern had ebbed away. It had been replaced with awe. This man had stayed isolated in the mountains from all of his kind. He spent his days rescuing and nursing magical creatures back to health.

Something warm and gentle squeezed her heart as she looked at him. She was drawn to him. The magnetism pulled her closer and closer to him as she watched him work. After several hours he finally looked up. His eyes meeting hers.

“Why are you in these mountains? Why do you have her face?” He turned away. Sadness overlapping his initial ferocity. “You do not have her eyes or her hair but you have her face.” His eyes were overlayed with solemnity.

Alyenna sighed in frustration. “Who are you talking about? Who’s face do I have?”

He sighed and growled at her. “Eleanor, why do you have Eleanor’s face?”

Alyenna stared at him in shock. “What do you mean I have Eleanor’s face? She is dead. I just look like her obviously. You have been alone too long.”

“No,” He said slamming his fist down on the table. “You have HER face. It haunts my dreams it haunts my memories I see no other face in all of my waking hours. I know every pore on that face and you stole it.”

Exasperated Alyenna was desperate “I can only change into animal forms, not people. this is MY face I have had it since I can remember!”

Cameron was silent for a long time. “How is this possible?” He pulled her to him. His hands clutching his shoulders. His eyes deeply seeing answers. “What are you?” He paused again this time he seemed distant in his own world. He whispered gently. “Please, be you, please be my salvation,” and then he kissed her.