When Dragons Lay — Part 5 (Conclusion)

Rite of Passage: a Fantasy in 5 Parts

Jul 05, 2025

FROM PART 5:

"Twins are a blessing?" he ridiculed. "A blessing and a curse," he seethed. "A blessing only if they're both boys," he snorted sarcastically. "One girl, well, aye, that happens, but two? At the same time? I have a farm to work, for God's sake. You can understand that, can't you? Anyone could."

The lobules and convolutions in the dragon's brain that held back dark things began to tremble and wobble, no longer able to completely contain the primeval mind beneath them. Shadowy thoughts began to churn, looking for escape.

By this time the townspeople had reached the farm. The menfolk had continued beyond where the women had stopped and pressed onward armed with sticks, swords, pokers, and salt, for which it's been said would burn the beast. Dragon watched as they approached, unconcerned. When they reached within a hundred paces of him, they stopped. A priest led the mob of men and suddenly knelt.

"We are peaceful and God-fearing, beast. Be gone.” The dragon narrowed his field of vision until it was honed in on just the priest, who crossed himself and began praying in Latin. Ezzie stepped forward ahead of Mila.

"Stop!" she said. "You have no leave to invoke God."

The men gasped, seeing both Ezzie and Mila together. While twins were not unknown here, Mila was known to be an only child.

"What is this?" cried the priest. Ezzie turned to the farmer.

"Yes, what is this?" she repeated to underscore demand. Her father didn't answer. She turned back to the priest. "It's his other daughter. We are his twin offspring. But you have never seen me before, have you?"

"How?" hollered the priest. Then, to the farmer, "Why?"

"Tell him why, father," she said, a sneer attached to the last word.

Please don't, Ezzie, Mila begged in commontalk. He'll beat me to death for this. Quiet, Mila! Those days are over.

One of the men hurled a long sword at the dragon, his aim so misthrown that it landed behind the farmer, almost injuring him.

"Lo! Careful," he admonished the man. "And..." to all the men, "we best not disturb the beast. There is neutrality, heretofore, without injury or casualty. I believe we can endure some contrition here and let this beast be on his way."

"And me?" Ezzie responded.

"You, too, lassie,” he said, as if there were nothing out of the ordinary about her. “Go with your beast. Leave us here to go about our lives. All here will be better for it."

"But the cold will continue. Know the coldness of being alone. I’ve been cold for so many years. For all my life. “

“I’ve felt the chill, too,” Mila said.

“Silence!” Mila’s father told her. “And let’s go our own ways, like before. All will be well, as before.” Ezzie shot him bolts from her stormy eyes.

“No!” she said angrily. “All here will not be better for it. But for you, that's the matter settled, then?" Ezzie was goading him. The man looked at the priest and then at each of the men.

"What say all?" her father asked them, expecting agreement by acclamation.

They mumbled indecisively among themselves. The dragon kept focused on the men and their weapons and did not notice when the farmer slipped deeper into the barn. Ezzie began commontalk with the dragon.

And that's the matter settled, then? So say you, too, Dragon? Let it go, Ezzie. Why, Dragon? That is justice denied. I should burn the lot, then, little gnat? Everyone but my sister, Dragon.

Deep in the dragon's mind his primeval reasoning began to argue. Burn them all. No! You can and you must. They don't help you when they're alive; they can't hurt you when they're dead. To wit, your Ezzie supports it, and no doubt her twin, too.

The farmer had climbed a ladder into a loft that opened to the front of the barn from a window. The beast was as large as the barn, so it was only a sidelong leap onto him. He was armed with the long sword that had fallen beside him moments earlier.

The dragon's instincts, no longer reflexic because of dulling by Ezzie's back-climbing before, took a moment too long to respond. The farmer assumed slaystance on Dragon’s back and drove the blade home. The dragon stiffened and called out to Ezzie.

Child, child! No, Dragon. Fight them, burn them. Too late. My heart bleeds, and nothing bleeds so much and so quickly as a dragon's heart. No, Dragon. Ezzie shrieked in horror. Mila stood, entranced into catatonia.

One last exchange passed between them, heartfelt but final; accepting but conspiring. Ezzie understood and insensate Mila slowly refocused with a smile.

The crowd of men cheered wildly. The priest got on his knees to thank the Lord, the antediluvian battle with the beast having been re-waged and re-won. The dragon slumped and collapsed.

"Now, lassie, not so brash, are we?" the farmer laughed.

"You win, Father," Ezzie said. "The dragon will never be the same," she said.

"The same? Why, he be dead!"

"Yes, dead. For now. But he won't rot until you have performed the final rite for dragons."

"Fie! Let it remain here intact to testify what we won this day."

"That's rich because--come the first frost--he will reanimate if you don't perform the final rite. And then he will remember all. And you. And his breath will find you."

The farmer appeared a little uncertain. "Tell me about this rite."

"You must take the sword that slew him, and you must place it between his eyes and plunge it as deeply as you can. Unless you destroy his mind, he will be back, and I for one don't want to be around when it happens."

The farmer looked at the priest, who nodded. "What harm could come from it?" he told the farmer. "You'll have killed it twice. And it's an easy target now."

Come with me, Mila. Where, Ezzie? To the forest. We shall live there--I know how. What about my home? Home? Think about how he selected which one of us to abandon. How did he do that, Ezzie? He didn't, Mila. He just grabbed the one closest. That's how he decided. It was casual, which is why it was so cruel and sad. And you have lived by his ruthlessness, and I have lived without my sister. We belong together.

It won't be as if you've never existed, Ezzie said, hoping somewhere Dragon would hear. You were. And you settled the grave injustice of abandonment of blood, separation of sisters, and the extinguishing of part of Creation.

Ezzie extended her hand and led Mila away. As they distanced themselves, they could hear the hoopla and victory whoops from the men, which seemed to be peaking as Dragon’s “final rite” was being enacted by the farmer. The entire townsfolk shrunk together, tightly, around this final performance.

Ezzie and Mila were far enough away when they were jolted by the blast that lit up the sky in front of them, from behind them. It was as bright as the sun, coming three seconds before they heard the detonation and the hot wind that followed to warm their faces. It was a warmth that would forever counteract the coldness of the world.