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Monsters  
by Alex Grehy

“Child, next time you tend to the dragon’s fire use this timber.”

The Eldest passed Ayesha the carefully chopped wood, each piece honed to the perfect length and depth to provide consistent heat to the incubation jars. Her hands appreciated the oily smoothness of each log, glad that tomorrow, at least, she would not spend her evening picking splinters from her palms. 

She looked round the ring of Elders, her tribal leaders, leaning forward to bow to them in gratitude

“Not too close to the fire, child, we must not char our gift to the dragons.” the Eldest cautioned.

“A gift. How lovely, I am sure the dragons will be pleased…”

Her voice trailed away. The dragons rarely showed any emotion that a human could read. The fact that Ayesha hadn’t been eaten or incinerated was as near to satisfaction with her work as she would get.

“A gift is long overdue. Have we not been neighbours for many centuries? Do the dragons not give us employment, protection and a rich living on their lands?” the Eldest said, while the circle of Elders nodded gravely.

“True, they take a tithe of three Elders each year, but that seems too little a tribute to show our…appreciation. The wood is a simple gift, but one which we think they will remember for many years.” The Elders nodded, a faint ripple of laughter passing between them. 

 “As we remember those of the wise who were taken.” The Eldest concluded.

Ayesha clutched the bundle of logs, her eyes downcast. Delivering a gift to the dragons sounded like an honour she had not earned.

“Eldest, may I ask a question?”

“Speak, child.”

“I am not worthy to approach the Great Dragon with this gift. Surely one of greater worth should present this token of our gratitude.” 

The Eldest leapt up from his seat, his agitation moving around the circle of Elders like a whirlwind in a field of wheat. The Eldest walked into the circle and put his hands on Ayesha’s shoulders.

“No, no, you misunderstand your importance. You are nursemaid to the dragon’s eggs. It would be crass of us to present a gift to the Great Dragon in a ceremony, better to deliver a more…personal…honour. We praise the dragons by tending their young with especial care. Just stoke the fires tomorrow as you would any other day. There is much respect and esteem in your work.

***

“What have you DONE?” roared the Great Dragon.

Ayesha knelt in the cage of his talons; eyes downcast.

“I was caring for the eggs, as is my sacred duty. I don’t understand what happened.” She coughed, trying to rid her lungs of the acrid smoke surrounding the incubation jars. The special wood, the gift, had exploded scant minutes after being placed on the night’s embers, fracturing the jars and wreathing the leather-hard dragon’s eggs in a poisonous fume. 

“None survive.” The Great Dragon’s partner said, lifting her head from the disconsolate heap of eggs she had gathered from the shards. Some of the eggs had split, the iridescent infants within fully formed, beautiful beyond words, and utterly still. 

“Your DUTY? To whom?” 

Ayesha lifted her eyes, driven by the Great Dragon’s hypnotic compulsion. She saw herself reflected in his pearlescent eyes – a ten-year-old girl, covered in soot, her skin red where flying embers had flayed her clothing into rags. Her hands curled with pain, burned as she had tried to roll the eggs away from the poisonous fumes.

“The Elders told me the wood was a gift, that they owed you gratitude for the quality of their lives…”

Ayesha faltered as a great drop of warm liquid splashed over her face. She flinched, then looked down at her hands, her skin was new, soft and pink, healed by the dragon’s tears.

“A gift? Indeed.” said the Great Dragon. “A gift of malice from creatures who thought nothing of killing our innocent young, of destroying a whole generation.”

“I am sorry! Please, take my life in lieu!” Ayesha cried, feeling the unbearable weight of her people’s betrayal and the dragon’s grief.

The Great Dragon released her from his claws.

“No! We do not take the lives of innocents, we are not monsters.” he replied.

.

Fiction © Copyright Alex Grehy
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com

More from author Alex Grehy:

Last Species Standing

Alex Grehy (she/her) enjoys writing quirky, thought-provoking horror and is a regular contributor to The Sirens Call and Ladies of Horror Flash Project. Her fiction and essays on being a lady of horror have featured in a range of publications, including Spread: Tales of Deadly Flora. Alex’s first poetry collection, Last Species Standing, which explores mankind’s relationship with nature and technology, is available on Amazon.

Available on Amazon!