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Digest Number 1030

by "treedr@[EMAIL PROTECTED] " <treedr@[EMAIL PROTECTED] > Jul 8, 2005 at 11:08 PM

: [WeaversFiction] Digest Number 1030


There is 1 message in this issue.

Topics in this digest:

1. [DL-C] A Red Night
From: "Simon Gale" <s.gale@[EMAIL PROTECTED]
>


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Message: 1
Date: Tue, 28 Jun 2005 15:31:19 +1000
From: "Simon Gale" <s.gale@[EMAIL PROTECTED]
>
Subject: [DL-C] A Red Night


Day 3
Night

The sky glowed crimson, clouds reflecting the bloody colour of the sun
as it drfting achingly slowly towards the horizon. He could see the
edge of darkness creeping onto the wide plains from his vantage point
high in the hills, sweeping all beneath as it raced towards him.
Suddenly all was black, except for the blood-streaked sky.

Just as suddenly he was in the village. Campfires roared high tonight,
glowing the same colours as the sunset and painting the whole of the
camp in reds and oranges. It seemed like there were to many campfires,
because when he looked down at his hands, they were dripping in sweat
from his arms and shoulders. He saw his little cousin Raja playing with
a small doll beside the fire and he went over to her. She was his
favourite cousin, all dimples and smiles and sweet hugs when her bigger
cousin spoilt her with a candy or a new carving. He played with her a
while, the noisiness of the camp around receeding into the background.
After a while he tired of this, and he stood, stretching his arms and
legs, working out the kinks that had crept in. It was then that he
noticed that the noisiness of camp had in fact dissappeared altogether.

A faint sense of unease slipped into his heart. This all seemed somehow
achingly familiar. He started to walk towards the central space of the
village, calling out softly for friends and family. Noone answered. He
walked through his families tent, noting the dropped tools, the untidy
food tray left in the passageway. He quickened his pace, now well and
truly worried. He stepped up to the door flap and swept it aside,
dreading what he might find beyond.

He gasped in shock at the sight he saw before him. A great black s****
swayed on top of a pile of bodies, its eyes glowing green despite the
ruby red firelight that bathed the central space. As he watched he saw
its body writhe and gyrate hypnotically, its eyes boring towards
something to the left of him. A small body came walking into the clear
space in front of the s****, and with a shock, he realised it was Raja,
the small girl he had just been playing with. Her eyes were glazed and
she walked with wooden, almost mechanical movements. The s**** had her
completly within its thrall, as it must have done to the rest of the
tribe, who all lay in the great pile beneath its black coils. A
whimpering sound came from his throat as he stepped forward, one hand
outstretched to stop her. He was to late though, the great black head
of the s**** rearing back and striking forward, burying its long fangs
deep in the soft belly of the girl. She screamed, a sound of pure pain
and hurt and!
despair and he fell to his knees, tears bursting from his eyes.
Realisation of what this was and the white hot agony of loss bored into
his soul as it had done so many times before, and once again Memnon
lifted his arms to the black sky and screamed his frustration and pain.

* * *

<Mem, wake up!> Rage's voice inserted itself quietly and yet forcefully
between his dream and his self. Memnon rolled over, his bed clothes
absolutely drenched in sweat. He opened his eyes slowly, relieved to
see only the now-familiar surrounds of his bare apartment in Cleft.
These nightmares were coming more frequently of late, the dragons that
killed his family and tribe replaced by twisted dream versions of
Nadusi. The great black s**** seemed to haunt his every step these
days, leaving him no peace, even in his dreams.

[Thanks, my friend] he sent to the rusty dragon that awaited his reply
anxiously on the ledge just outside the apartment.

[I just wish these dreams would go away and leave me to live new life
without pain of old]

<That's a wish alright> the dragon replied,

<As to whether its a good wish, thats another...> he finished
enigmatically.

Memnon grinned tiredly.

[Always wise one, aren't you? Even deep in the night!] he quipped.

He reached over to the wooden chair that currently served as the hanger
for several articles of clothing in true bachelor style, and grabbed a
woolen cloak from the pile. Wrapping it around his lean body, he walked
outside and took a seat on the edge of the large ledge that was cut
into the side of the cliff. The stone he sat on was cool from the night
air and smoothed by generations of previous owners and dragons. Rage
moved his large head to rest beside him, just touching his thigh.
Despite looking cold and reptilian, dragon-skin was actually remarkably
warm and firm to the touch. Memnon rested one arm across the top of the
red dragon's head and stared out into the night.

"This Nadusi is bigger problem than anyone thinks," he murmered, half
to himself and half to noone at all. Rage stirred a little, already
back asleep on his comfortable ledge. The Cleft hierachy had asked a
lot of questions and seemed to be talking a lot amongst themselves, but
Memnon knew what that meant to the hundreds of Nomads already killed by
this creature. Or the hundreds more that would be dead in a few days
time, dead and eaten to satisfy an alpha predator's hunger. Nothing.

Though there seemed to be nothing anyone could do, beyond talk about
it. In all of his life, all Memnon had ever heard about this Nadusi was
that the appearance of this creature symbolised death and destruction
for the entire Nomad people. No story of the black s**** that came from
the bowels of the earth ended in victory, no tale ended with Nomads
continiueing life as before. Nadusi wasn't a tale told to frighten
young children, it was a tale told that frightened men in the prime of
their life. Indeed, of all the Nomads Memnon had spoken to about it,
none had heard of any way to wound or halt this creature, let alone
defeat it.

As the young Nomad sat thinking these deep thoughts his eyelids started
to drop, sleep once again reaching out to grab his tired body and pull
it down into the black underworld of rest, this time a rest without
dreams to disturb it. A few minutes later, the two young bodies lay
unmoving, dragon and boy silvered by the moonlight and caressed by the
soft, warm breezes of the Cleft.

* * * * * * *

Respectfully submitted by
Simon Gale
Memnon & Rage




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 1 Posts in Topic:
Digest Number 1030
"treedr@[EMAIL PROTE  2005-07-08 23:08:25 

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