by Ashley Hibbert
Reaching the tiny ledge, I fell to my knees and inhaled
deeply.
The ledge extended out into Dragons Canyon and was the
closest space between the walls reaching into the sky like
twin palm trees.
I gazed wistfully towards the midday sky, searching for
blue. Lumps of rock protruded from the wall, like plates
of fungi on the trunk of a geriatric tree, often blocking
the scattered day light.
Behind us ran a sturdy bridge connected the two sides.
Beyond that, a track to the canyon floor. Through the floor's
centre snaked a thin river, fed by several waterfalls often
several hundred meters long.
On the bridge a guard conversed with those who were to
remain behind on the other side, illuminated by a huge column
of light falling from the ceiling. While the ledge where
I stood felt more like fading dusk. While moments ago we
had been warming in the sun's gaze, psyched for the upcoming
trek, we now had an irrepressible feeling that we should
now be making camp.
Our guide ordered the lighting of several torches. I felt
drowsy - not a good thing when our path ran along a mere
indenture in the rock-face. A single slip and I would be
-
I swallowed, and looked further into the distance, where
the trail eventually darted out of a cove and into view,
and finally to a plateau hanging in the centre of another
column of light.
Upon that green plateau stood the yellow buildings that
made up the secluded Monastery of Dragonia.
If there ever was a stronghold that could hold off an army
with a single archer, this was it. The monastery's only
means of access was the long and winding path that stretched
upwards that we would soon ascend.
The others headed between the two trees that stood like
sentries before the darkness of the ridge. Father broke
from the train, and lowered an inviting hand.
"Come on - not long now."
I smiled at the understatement. The party's point had emerged
from a dark cove onto a protruding belly of rock. The torches
that they held high lit their path in an eerie orange. One
of them tugged roughly at the lead of a mule looking down
to the tremendous drop in fear. One of the warriors of the
plateau waved out to his companions, and received a warm
reply.
They were a long way off.
In the canyon floor, the frigate Isosceles floated in a
calm bend. It had been our chariot this far, yet now - far
from home and any land I knew - its journey with us had
come to an abrupt end. Sails rolled, anchor lowered, abandoned.
In to the distance from where we had sailed, a haze of
light shone like the eye of god.
On the other side of the expanse, upon a ledge barely large
enough for the titanic beast, stood a two-headed dragon.
Its right mouth emitted a stream of crimson, while the other
craned into the sky it would soon visit, bellowing its reptilian
cry.
I clasped my father's outstretched hand and stood. I inhaled
the strange, exotic, cool air deeply, and joined the others.
Father was right - not long now at all.
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