Patreon LogoYour support makes Blue Moon possible (Patreon)

The Dragon Mother (Chanti and AnonymousRelated)

Chanti

Supporter
Supporter
Joined
Apr 1, 2015
“Luu khot tsöld baidag yum”

“What did she say, Papa?” Callie smiled down at the woman who was, quite possibly, the oldest woman in the world. She certainly looked the part. Withered and dry, with more wrinkles than a shar-pei. Dressed in a dusty bronze colored robe that matched the color of her skin, the old woman did not even look at the white man and woman in front of her. Her voice chanted on and on, a shrill musty sound in the deafening racket of the Mongolian marketplace.

“Just that old nonsense about the city of dragons” Jasper Hunt smiled kindly down at the old woman, the very picture of interested patience. “I do wonder what caused the legend though. You know what I always say, Callie…”

“At the root of every legend is a kernel of truth.” Callie laughed, slipping her hand into her father’s. “Maybe we will find that kernel on the dig. I can say it is far more likely than finding it from this old woman.”

Jasper pressed a coin into the woman’s hand and started away. He stopped when Callie shrieked, and turned to see her staring down at the woman who clutched at her leg in a frenzy.

“Luu khaalgach bolgoomjil! Luu khaalgach bolgoomjil!”

The woman’s grandchildren pried her fingers from Callie’s leg and the girl stumbled away, staring at the woman in shock as her family led her away, casting profuse apologies over their shoulder.

“What was she screaming at me, Papa?”

Jasper was frowning after the woman, his weathered gray brow furrowed.

“Beware the dragon keeper….”
______________________________________________

The dig was not much quieter than the marketplace. Workers scraped and shoveled and carried dirt. Students discussed findings. The managers overseeing the diggers shouted orders and commands. And over it all, the desert wind howled.

The dig itself was a fantastic thing. A massive stone city that was discovered peeking up from the desert sand after a day-long sandstorm swept over it. Neither Archaeologist Hunt nor any of the Americans with him believed the city was actually an ancient city of dragons, but the structure of the city that was only now beginning to reveal itself was fascinating. Ground penetrating radar had revealed massive buildings, wide avenues the size of American interstates, and huge open spaces. The size of the dig was staggering. Thousands worked here over an ancient city that stretched for miles – and the borders had still not clearly been mapped out. And Jasper Hunt was in charge of it all.

Perhaps it was due to the “boss” appearing on site that the steady roar of the work dipped. But more than likely it was because every man there – and they were mostly men – were at least surreptitiously eyeing the boss’s pretty nineteen year old daughter. She was worth looking at, with her tanned sleek teenage skin shown off with her jean shorts, khaki cotton button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up and the front opened to display a brown ribbed tank top. She wore hiking boots, a straw hat perched over her dark brown hair, and sunglasses that hid her melted chocolate eyes. But it was her mouth that inspired the most fantasies from the workers. Wide and full, with plump gleaming pink lips that begged for a fat cock to be slid between them. Those lips were currently curled up in a gleeful smile as she slid down into one of the sand pits, mixing with the workers as they moved the sand from a doorway large enough a semi-truck could have driven through.

The excitement prickled through the crowd. It was the first time one of these buildings had been entered. The doorways were examined for any signs of a door, but there were none. No marks of hinges or other fastenings in the elegantly carved stone. Two members of the Mongolian security forces moved closely behind Jasper as he stepped into the stone building. Callie was right behind them.

Despite being buried beneath the sand for ages, the room was cool and relatively clean except for the sand that had spilled through the open doorway. There were no signs of furniture except for two elegant stone tubs carved into one of the far walls, about the size of bathtubs.

“Bathing rooms, Papa?” Callie questioned. They all moved towards the tubs, peering inside. There was nothing.

“Perhaps. Let’s explore.”

There was a wide, open doorway leading to another room. Room by room, they explored. Every single one empty. It was the fifth room deep they found the paintings. Jasper was the first one in, lifting a torch to light the way. His gasp was loud. Soon he, Callie, their two government dogs, and other archaeologists and students were staring in awe at the bright, gleaming paintings that decorated the walls of this chamber.

“Dragons….”

Jasper’s voice was a croak. Yes, dragons. Dragons flying, massive beasts the size of a semi-truck gliding through the air. Sitting in the sun, glittering and gleaming in different colors of the rainbow. Bathing in rivers and lakes. Eating raw meat from what was obviously a fresh kill. Baby dragons, awkward adolescent dragons. The minutes stretched as the humans gawked at the beauty, the talented, lifelike drawings covering every inch of the walls.

“Oh, Papa. It’s so beautiful….”

“The city of dragons…the old hag was right.”

Father and daughter stopped and looked at each other, then laughed.

“We dig. This is a wondrous find. I want photos taken of all these drawings. Let’s get this building mapped out, I want to know how deep it is. Let’s go, people!”


The next three days passed in a blur. Father and daughter knew there were complaints by the workers of…”incidents” within the camp, but they were far too focused on the dig to care. They left the small issues to the others to handle. It was late on the third day, when the afternoon shadows were stretching long on the desert sands, that Callie found the jewel. At least, that is what she considered it to be. She was exploring a newly opened building, one that had some damage to the ceiling. As a result there was a lot more sand in the interior rooms, and in the third room Callie had found a jewel buried in the sand. It was a stunningly beautiful jewel in the shape of an egg. A large egg. Polished and smooth, the edges were a dark indigo. But the heart of the jewel seemed to …well…there was no other word for it. It glowed a vibrant rich purple.

It was, too be quite honest, the most beautiful jewel Callie had ever seen. She found herself hunched over it in the corner, brushing sand off it long after there was no sand to brush off. Just to feel the warmth of the gem under her fingers. Her heart ached with its beauty.

It was the first find on the dig. No other objects had been found at all. She should have immediately turned it over to her father. Instead, she tucked it into the small satchel slung over her back that held her water bottle, notepad, and other small things. Tomorrow. She would hand it over tomorrow. Tonight she just wanted to…to touch it.

She ate without tasting anything, claiming exhaustion and all but running to her tent. She zipped the flaps shut, turned off her lamp, and in the darkness she took out the jewel. Without the flickering light of a torch, the glow of the gem was even more noticeable. So noticeable she was afraid it would be noticed from the outside of her tent, so she slid into bed and burrowed underneath the thin blanket. There she just…HELD the jewel. Touching it. Rubbing it. Loving the feel of it under her fingers. This obsession with the egg was unhealthy, she knew that. It was wrong. She needed to turn it over right away to her father.

Later.

For now, she just wanted…no…NEEDED to touch it.

_____________________________________________
A soft peeping filled her ear. Something pecked sharply at her ear.

“Gi’off me”

She smacked at it, grumbling and turning over onto her side. A squeaking little giggling sound brought her eyes flying open. She stared into the big owl-like eyes of the purple creature perched on her cot beside her and swallowed hard. Her mind froze, utterly unable to process what she was seeing.

The creature chirped again, a sound of love and adoration as it leaned forward, nuzzling it’s snout against her cheek. She flinched, and something crunched under the blanket. Her hand fumbled, felt something slick and wet and hard. She brought it out, staring at the shard of jewel in her fingers. Turned her eyes to the creature staring up at her like she hung the moon. And screamed.

When she screamed, the creature….not a dragon. No, no definitely not a dragon. Dragons didn’t exist. The creature shrieked with her, a tiny little sound of confusion and pain and fear. It ran to her, tottering the few steps over her pillow till it could burrow its little scaly purple head under her neck. Shouts of alarm arose near her tent, and the little creature little out a peeping little whimper. Instinctively her hand rose to cover it, stroking it comfortingly. Her tent was yanked open, and her father’s flushed, worried face peered inside.

“Callie! Callie, are you alright?”

His eyes dropped to the sweeping, spiked purple tail that curled up on her pillow, following it up that slender, almost snakelike purple scaly body to where it disappeared between Callie’s neck and the pillow. His wide eyes met those of his daughter.

“Papa, I think I accidentally adopted a dragon.”
 
The world was filled with mysteries and with treasures buried deep into the unknown. More often than not, these treasures were buried for a reason. They had power, or pull over the forces of nature or even mankind itself and these treasures would fall into the wrong hands. The greedy inherently had money, and in the modern day and age, money equated power. Atlantis disappeared for reasons that no one alive really knows, but that doesn't mean that it's gone. Just like an ancient city dedicated to an entity and it's descendants, it had been buried but not by natural events of sandstorms. It was buried because the secrets it held were never to come to life again, these secrets were something that could and would change the face of the Earth forever. And should they be released, mankind would suffer a blow unlike anything it's ever been through prior. It had been hundreds of years since the temple was buried, but it had been even longer since it was sealed up. Before it had been sealed, the temple was populated not just by scaled beasts that stood fifteen or more feet tall. It was cleaned, maintained, and expanded by a precursor to the humans that walked the Earth now. Though these "humans" didn't have the same biological makeup as the modern man did, they were better adapted for dealing with and living with dragons. Their lungs could sustain their bodies at the high altitudes that dragons sometimes flew at, their cellular structure didn't decay as fast as humans did. Not to mention they could understand the language of dragons, and what was more they could speak it, somewhat. These people had all died out, all but one.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Mongolia was as it seemed, a third world country by most standards. It was a place where people had to earn their living by working hard and hardly playing. Though there was some lavish and wealthy people that lived in the densest city, Ulaanbaatar. Here a person could find almost anything they wanted to so long as they had the money. The best money was made by offering a service that the wealthy wanted, and the best service that a person could offer the wealthy was entertainment. The people of Mongolia were, by all means, raised around violence. Thus violence was normalcy, and through this mindset underground fighting rings were a very common occurrence. The wealthy would come here to place bets, but more importantly to watch someone leave the 'ring' on a stretcher. These fights were no-holds barred and the only rule that was followed, was that you couldn't kill your opponent on purpose. Though death happened here in these underground fights, and the fighters that died disappeared forever.

In one of these underground arenas, a fight was currently being held. On one side of the fight you had a man who stood nearly seven and a half feet tall, weighing in at nearly six hundred pounds. His appearance was very similar to that of a sumo wrestler you would find in Japan, but he was certainly not following the traditions or rules of sumo. On the other side of the fight you had someone of a much less imposing stature. He stood six feet four inches tall, weighed just over one hundred and seventy pounds. He had dark brown hair that was slicked back with grease in order to keep his hair from his eyes, the man wore knee length crimson colored shorts that had no pockets, nothing that anyone could get a hold of except the fabric. He was shirtless and it showed off his very incredibly toned body. His abs were ripped, his skin was a golden brown from time spent in the sun. It was clear that he wasn't from Mongolia, he wasn't of oriental descent. His appearance was more Russian than anything. The most notable thing about this man was the tattoo that ran up his body and down his right arm. It was a very long tattoo of a dragon, the dragon was multicolored and had six limbs. The head of the dragon was on his right hand, the mouth appearing to engulf his fist with it's wide open maw.

Heavy footsteps stomped towards the male, who opened his emerald colored eyes and looked at the massive bald fat man charging him. But before he could do anything there was a sensation that made him freeze. This man was the last guard of the city of dragons, he was hundreds of years old, but didn't look a day older than thirty. He could feel the city being opened, being the person who had sealed the last of the dragons into the city, it was his responsibility to keep anyone and everyone out. But it had become buried so his duty was over, or so he thought. His mind was brought back to the fight as a massive fist, the size of his face smashed into the side of his head and sent him spinning through the air. Splaying out onto the ground, the muscular fighter gathered his arms and legs underneath of him as he began to rise to his feet. "OH! AND THE EXECUTIONER LANDS A MASSIVE RIGHT HOOK ONTO THE CHALLENGER!" the announcer called out right as the big fat man who was known as 'The Executioner' came up and stomped the defined fighter down to the ground. "IT LOOKS LIKE THIS COULD BE ALL FOLKS! THE END WE ALL EXPECTED!"

Laying, face down on the hard concrete surface the brown haired, tan fighter breathed heavily. He knew that he had to end this, and he had to stop whoever or whatever had opened the city from taking anything out. Little did he know that it would already be too late for that. Nevertheless, he pushed his gloved palms flat against the ground and pushed up, leaving a small pool of blood from his mouth where he laid. The Executioner tried to push him back down by stomping on his back, but it failed. And as he raised his foot to try and stomp once more, the tattooed fighter spun around between the large man's legs. Getting to his feet he jumped up and kicked the man in the back with both feet as hard as he could. This sent The Executioner tumbling forward, and before he could get up he was delivered a very hard and very fast elbow drop to the base of his skull, right where his spine connected to his head. A single cough came from the man's body as a spurt of blood shot from both his nose and his mouth, and his eyes rolled backwards in his head. "OH MY! WHAT AN UPSET! THE CHALLENGER HAS TAKEN OUT THE EXECUTIONER IN TWO HITS!" the announcer screamed through the mic. Two beautiful women wearing scantly clad bikinis came up and one held his hands up in the air while the other wrapped a belt around his waist.

Before he wasted any more time, the man pulled his hands away from the female and took off from the ring. He ran to the steps and left before he could even claim his prize. Though he knew he didn't need it simply because there were bigger fishes to fry right now.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The next day.

Emerald eyes peered through a set of binoculars, he had traveled all day and night in order to get to the place where the city had been buried. And to his amazement, as well his horror it was very uncovered. It reminded him of how it looked in all it's glory and splendor before it had to be buried, he could still see the dragons circling above the apex of the city in his mind. Morning was rising, and it made it easier for him to move undetected. People were not yet fully alert, and that left room for error. He had long since abandoned any sort of title or name as it was irrelevant, he as far as he was concerned, was a ghost. A specter of the past, simply forced to exist within the present.

It wasn't until a shrill scream sounded out that he had any idea of there being any chance of them having found a live dragon. The scream was followed by a screech that was certainly from a dragon fledgling. He swallowed hard as he watched from afar as men swarmed around a single tent. There was a man who looked American that went into the tent, and everything fell silent. Watching, and waiting there was no more movement, no more screams or screeches. All was calm and still, which was certainly disconcerting for him. If there was a dragon on the surface of the Earth again, that spelled disaster. But it also meant that he had a duty to fulfill, and there was no way he would allow them to take the dragon fledgling, not without him putting up a fight. Tossing the binoculars behind him, the male took off down the sandy slope he had been laying on. He had changed from his fighting gear and was wearing desert based camouflage, on his right hip was an SV Infinity .45 caliber sidearm. Something he had picked up from his time spent as a special forces member for the United States military. He wore military grade boots, and had a small pack on his back the pack had a small hose that came from within and was pinned down to his shoulder. The end of the hose would open when bit down on, and if you created suction with your mouth you'd get water, they called it a "camel-pack".

Moving carefully and quietly, he used the distraction from the scream in order to sneak around the campsite. Getting within earshot of the tent where he had seen the American looking male enter, he crawled on his stomach in order to avoid detection. Laying behind the tent, directly behind the cot that the female was on he waited and listened. Using a breathing technique he'd learned in the military he slowed his heart rate in order to allow his ears no distraction from himself. He needed to be certain that there was a dragon, because if there was, he was the only one suited to care for it. Or so he thought.
 
Jared’s astonished eyes flicked from his daughter’s guilty face back down to the tail end of the tiny purple winged creature that was cuddled up close to her. No question, this was a dragon. Complete from the scaly serpent-like body to the spined tail, the wings that were now tightly folded along the baby dragon’s sides, to the four relatively short legs ending in dangerous looking claws – even on the baby. And no question it was a baby, it was so small it could comfortably perch on his hand.

“Did …did it hurt you?” Jared slipped into her tent and moved slowly closer.

“No, he just startled me.”

At her calm voice, the fledgling pulled its head from underneath her neck, turning and peering curiously at Jared.

“He?”

Callie paused at her father’s query.

“I’m not sure how I know to be honest, but I think it is a he.”

There was another long pause, both silently grappling with this new discovery, and the possible consequences.

“My God….” Jared breathed out. He could tell from his daughter’s guilty face that she had done something she was not supposed to. Considering she had a baby dragon in her tent, she had likely kept some finding for herself. That was a problem, but a relatively small one in the face of what he was looking at now.

“We have to….”

His words were interrupted when the dragon turned and bumped Callie’s arm, warbling loudly. She peered down at it, mystified.

It bumped her arm again, warbling even louder.

“What is it?” Callie asked the little thing.

It opened its mouth, gently biting down on her arm and shaking its little head. Not one needle sharp tooth pierced her skin. Callie giggled.

“I think it’s hungry.”

Jasper chuckled. “Seems so. From what we saw in the paintings they eat meat. I will ..."

Jasper got no further before a ripping sound filled the tent and interrupted him.
 
Back
Top Bottom