Travels and tales of Amazira and Skyseeker

Tales and travels of Amazira and Skyseeker


Prologue:


A silver shine in lustrous mane is mine
A princess morph of shapes to some unknown.
A were of human means, my magic's bind
is to the hungry beasts that know my throne.

A huntress I am, ev'ry form takes hold
in nature's true desire to fight and fly.
In time my life of change became controlled
by thought, so narrow, wise may I apply.

The shaping creature living now inside
is demons known by me in wisdom's way
that within me still in hunger abide.
This thing of hell, Oh, I will surely slay.

When I the regal witch will know true form
and begin to accept life in dull norm.

I find myself in another dirty tavern, Stale Ale, with the lowlifes of Kadaan. Everyone is drinking and talking. A fight breaks out every once in a while. I ignore most of them, if they get too close, I slam their drunken heads into the bar. They usually settle down after that. The action is nonstop as the storytellers tell tales of heroes, the minstrels sing of great romances and the serving wenches dance their way through crowds to bring drinks. Occasionally, I see some of the servers grab the hand of a lucky warrior or soldier and with a smile take him up to a private room.  Not sure why I am here tonight, maybe I miss ‘human company’; maybe, I am just bored; maybe, I just need to get laid. I see a blond barbarian with nice biceps; he has a strong face and a hard ass. Seems to have most of his teeth and a tolerable smell, not terribly drunk yet, I see some potential. I strike up a conversation with him, he ogles my breasts. No big deal, I’ve seen that look before. I glance down at his codpiece, seems adequately filled. He gives me a look with big brown eyes and asks me, “What is a female warrior doing in a scumsucking place like the Stale Ale?” I laugh and quaff some warm ale, look him up and down and say, “Do you really want to know my story?” He smiles, a toothy grin and stares me straight in the eyes.  In his version of a seductive voice he says, “I am Utha, why not, it’s a slow Saturday night. With a grand gesture, I wave to the crowd and say gather around. “This night will not be forgotten for ‘Amazira’ herself speaks her story. Listen, and tonight know the heart of a female warrior. Bartender, fill my pint with fresh ale, I must wet my throat for this.”



My life has always been a struggle. I struggle to get the things I want. I contend with others for the things they need. My life is my choice; I live it the best way I know how, one foot on the pathway to hell and the other foot trying to kick down the door to heaven.

Some call me 'bitch'.
Some call me 'witch'.
Some call me 'healer'.
Some call me 'heroine',

and the really lucky ones call me 'lover'.

Call me Amazira,

I'm sure you've heard of my name. Some say it is known across all the lands. It is condemned in the churches, glorified by other warriors and relished by those who tell stories. I find it interesting the spins that they put on my story. Me, this is just my life. I do what I like and what I want.

My story, you want to hear my story.

Who was I?
How did I become this 'warrior healer'?
Who is my family?


I used to have a family, a home and a happy life. The king’s soldiers took it away in a random act of violence. I saw my parents killed before my eyes. My father died quickly; a long sword decapitated him.  The sight of his head hitting the floor and rolling to a stop remains with me to this day. The soldiers had fun with my mother before they killed her. They walked away from a rape/murder as if she had never existed.  After I crawled out from under the bed, I went screaming and crying into the streets.
An old shaman, Parting Clouds spotted me and pulled me away from the crowd of onlookers.  Holding my hand tightly, he asked me, Do you want to live?  Do you want to live? Then dry your tears, little girl. Come! Come with me! I went away with him my small fingers holding tight his gnarled hand. I never looked back and I have never cried since.
He became my teacher. He taught me the ways of ‘natural medicine’ and how to heal with thought. Parting Clouds showed me all his herb lore and gave me prayers to learn. He gave me my first vision quest and brought the spirit grizzly to me with the help of peyote and his disciplined chanting. One day, he even walked with me as the teacher wolf in the spirit world. What he offered to me was his greatest gift, he gave me myself back. He taught me how to think and act and taught me once again to love. He called me his Dark Otter, his beloved adopted daughter.  Parting Clouds taught me until he had nothing left to teach. One cloudy, winter day he grabbed his staff and went into the mountains; he never returned.

After a few weeks of mourning I left, my first true adventure came as a personal quest. A dream of mine was to become a dragon rider.  I sought a dragon egg from the lair of ‘Keeper of the Years, the last of the dragon ancients. He lived on the apex of ‘Ravenous Claw’ a mountain that was steep and treacherous. I climbed it in three days.

I don’t know why or how!
I just went before him and asked.
I promised him that I would raise him right.

He reared back and looked as if he was going to strike. I didn’t flinch, death had no hold on me. I had already seen it!

With that,

He looked at me, in me and through me,
And then he gave me a large, green speckled egg.

I kept my promise!

My other life died to me. My life is that of a vagabond with no attachments, no family and no friends. Just one 'little fellow' that I like to curl up with at night, he's everything a 'male' should be. The strength of his beating heart warms my every night. Secure, I am in the crook of his body.

He is my heart,
He is my soul,

my freedom in the skies
and the air under my feet.

I live in him
as he does in me.

He is my dragon
the whelp sired
from the eldest of ancients, Keeper of the Years.

He is Skyseeker. I raised him from a young hatchling to the young juvenile he is now. He makes other Dragon Riders 'green' with envy. Skyseeker is a well muscled, intelligent and somewhat of a poetic dragon who just loves to have a good time. I don't think he has ever said no to an adventure.

He makes me laugh and makes me sing. He chides me for my stupidity and tells me when I have done well.  His insight and wisdom have saved my life many times. He is my only 'true' friend.

You want to meet him. Let me call to him. What am I doing? You think I'm meditating. Nah! This is my call. I close my eyes and picture him before me. He comes when he hears me in his mind.

I think I see him in the distance! Isn’t he a beauty. Taking the barbarian’s hand, I draw him over to my closest friend. Skyseeker snorts a friendly greeting, “Where to mistress?” and puts down his head to be mounted. “Home, will be fine.” Grabbing Utha, I stroke his chest in a friendly way and give his hairy right nipple a squeeze. Come along for a ride, and maybe, just maybe you’ll be one of the lucky ones.

Chapter 1
The Huntress

Overlooking the cliff, I  retreated from the edge as stones rolled into the abyss. Searching the skies I sought for any signs of my familiar, not seeing or hearing the sounds of my longtime companion, T began to feed the campsite fire. As I piled brush, twigs and logs into a radial pattern, I laughed to herself. “What a fine meal Skyseeker will miss tonight. This young buck will be food for days; he has already missed the draining of the blood and the cooking of the heart and liver.' Using flint to create sparks, I  breathed life into the start of her new fire. As it grew in size I finished dressing the deer. After I salted a portion of fresh meat,  I wrapped what was left in forest ferns and placed it in my horse’s back pack. The remainder of the kill went on the spit.

As the meat cooked I began singing to myself the songs that the old Shaman, Parting Clouds had taught her. Amazira sang in a well pitched alto a song to the ‘Animal Spirit’. In a quiet, well rehearsed voice I thanked the young buck for sacrificing its life so that I might eat.My song asked for forgiveness for taking its life. With earnest pleading, I sang that its spirit should conjoin with mone for within me it could live again. Closing my eyes, placing my hands on her thighs I  rocked to and fro as I cleared myself. When I reopened my eyes, an omnipresence invaded me. It wrapped itself into my core and merged. A slight smile crossed my sad face and I began to eat.

The venison left juices that ran rivulets down my fingers, which I happily licked clean. It was the first real meal that I had in days. Normally, I relied on my companion for his kills, but he hadn’t come back from his last hunt. A small nagging doubt began to cross my mind and I felt the first twinge of a doubt. Was ‘Skyseeker’ okay? He had never, ever stayed away this long. One stray thought zoomed across, an intuition felt. He lives! Secure in that strange thought I stopped thinking of him. After dressing the deer and eating I was a mess. Time for a quick bath!

Running to a nearby mountain river I moved swiftly and easily along the path. My spirit, was free and light as I stripped my clothes off. I  ran, bouncing naked, into the rapidly moving water. With a clean dive that barely broke the surface of the water I submerged. My  body moved effortlessly as I became one with the water that swallowed me up. Stroke after stroke I cleaved through the water. Eyes wide open I took in a panoramic view; small fish scattered from me as I made my way across the bottom. A lazy box turtle paddled around aimlessly as an otter played with it. As the need for air increased I pushed off the bottom and struggled up. Breaking the fluid tension, I gasped, taking in a long, deep breath. Smiling at my own happiness, I waded back to the bank where I had dropped my leather tunic.


Amazira shook out her long hair and stepped back into her clothes. As she drew up her long leather boots, she heard a large crashing noise nearby. Guessing at its location, she went there with knife drawn to check it out. At the edge of the woods struggling to get up from the forest dirt was a two ton emerald green dragon with a silver mane. After three attempts at getting up and failing, he snorted his disgust and dropped back down, breathing hard. Blood could be seen staining the dirt that he flailed on. Amazira noticed a large open sore on his side and went to him.


“Skyseeker what happened”, I whispered into his ear as I gently stroked his face and looked deep into his pained eyes. Reaching into my leather blouse I pulled out my tassled medicine bag. Rummaging through its contents I saw my sheth, a ritual knife and several herbs: comfry, goldenseal, chamomile and yarrow. Finding a small container of plant balm, I attempted to dress the wound. The exhausted dragon just couldn’t answer as his ragged breathing was his only response. With some final wheezing he dropped his large head to the ground, unconscious.


With gentle precision I traced the edges of the wound with the oily gel. Smearing it completely around the wound I traced my fingers around its jagged edges. Closing my eyes, I withdrew into my mind’s eye and began to focus my life’s energies into my hands. As the power grew in intensity a small blue greenish glow came from them. Palms down I pressed my hands over the wound and held them in place for as long as I could.


Memories rushed from deeper parts of a happy past to emerge into the now of present as I prayed in an ancient tongue for my ancestor’s help. I saw a time of happiness, my first flight from Bad Bone Mountain. Skyseeker didn’t even resist the saddle and the reins this time. The only words he spoke were ‘Fly with me mortal to skies end and days death’. Standing on his back legs, he beat his wings to and fro in an attempt to gain loft. In the moment that he left the ground, my life was ever changed. I lived and breathed freedom of the skies with my reptilian friend. Shaking off the memory, I returned to the care of my nearly mortally injured friend.


As the glow faded from my body, I slumped down in exhaustion, my face drenched with the sweat of great effort. I collapsed next to him put my arms around his neck and with some struggle finally fell asleep.


Chapter 2
Skyseeker

A dragon’s tale should always begin with a when. ‘Once upon a time’, that’s how my mistress taught me. She told me to start my story with that! From that time forward I have always started my tales with:

“Once upon a time”

I dreamed the dreams of my making
in the chrysalis of green speckled shell.

I grew
I thought and
I lived.

From above me, I could hear the sounds of my sire settling down to roost on top of his eggs. His heat carried into the core of each of the growing young.

This is the dragon way! As we grew in size and form, we learned. An ancient teaches by touch and presence. Keeper of the Years had already taught us the wisdom of dragons and the means for our survival. As the day of hatching grew nearer, I became more and more anxious for my entrance. My dragon’s egg tooth formed in its preparation for the ‘great escape’.

One night a strange thing happened; I felt myself lifted up and placed in the presence of another. Her ‘heat’ was like something I had never before experienced. This was the first contact that I had ever had with a human. It was quite uncomfortable. Her aura had a sickly feel to it.

I felt myself placed carefully into a warm cloth and then carried away. Her walk was irregular and seemed over uneven ground. I went along for the ride. What choice did I have? After a time, she pulled me out, wrapped her arms about me and fell asleep.

How did I know? I could hear her snore.

After three nights I found myself next to a warm hearth. The fire was overly warm to the point of being uncomfortable. It was time; I wanted out. I began to peck away at the inside of the shell, just gentle, slow pecks until the point that I could develop a rhythm and begin to find some strength. After great struggle the egg developed a small crack. This was progress, now I really put my heart into it. I pecked and pecked and the crack grew and grew until my egg tooth pierced the shell. This had exhausted me I fell back and pondered the meaning of existence. This was way too much work, I said to myself, "just a little nap".

Nope, wasn’t going to happen! The damn human was whacking at the egg shell. What was she doing? In a matter of minutes she created a hole the size of a head. From above she spoke in a melodic voice, “Welcome to the world, little one. Why don’t you finish the job and come out!” Believe me, was I aggravated in 15 minutes I was shaking off the last of the egg shell. As I finished eating the egg sac and began to crunch away on the egg shell, she introduced herself, “I am Amazira.”

Strange the thoughts that one has, and the memories that one experiences as they feel the jaws of death ripping into their side, in my pain all I could think of was her, my surrogate mother. I feebly flapped in an attempt to remain aloft. The pain and blood loss were too much. I folded in my wings to my side and did a ‘death dive’ pulling up at the last second to avoid a hard hit. Crumbling to the ground I struggled for air and to maintain consciousness.

I hallucinated

I dreamt that she was there. She was talking to me, crying and holding my head. I felt sad. I was making my mistress unhappy. I struggled for air and struggled to get up for her, but it was all too much. I lost consciousness.

and dreamed
and healed
and awoke

In the arms of the one that loved me.

Chapter 3
Draconus

The dragon lifts on thermals of warm air,
as he in hunger soars in heat of day.
With serpent eyes and vision keen, aware,
is he so quietly seeking prey gone astray.

As wings so deft shall beat in rhythm's grace
the lizard king can take his freedom's flight
in days that speak of legends that give chase
and wonders burning true, so rare, so bright.

Ways: snake, the eagle and lion, trinity
the alchemy of beast and legends that passed
now, into lights of stars, infinity.
The creatures of myth are universe vast.

Yes, Draco, I shall call to thee, in mind
to soar in unison our love combined

Come young one we have much to do.  Destiny awaits us in the skies and a large green juvenile dragon needs a lesson today. Come to the harness and halter, Draconus. He hunts in your territory; he feeds on our game. Let us terrorize the terror sired from the Keeper of Years. Today we play a “little game.”

A fight, my rider, do we reign the skies as one? Let me show my skills, Dark Mistress. Today, I fly alone. An ‘aerial combat’ is the way of dragon, not of dragon and rider. Release me to fly against him. I will show him no mercy.

My, my you are an eager one. Will your pursuit quit once he strikes the ground in mortal arrears. I must have your promise that his wounds will be mortal. Do you Draconus, give me that word?

Yes, mistress that you have.

“Then be off, and do not return until you have that story to tell.  I want his blood staining your claws and mouth. I want his flesh hanging off your teeth. Do it, do it in the dragon way.”  Pulling his face to eye level, (Slowly speaking, very serious) “and remember make it very painful.”

Yes, mistress
Release me, my blood boils.

Then go Draconus, seize the skies.

My wings beat the air into oblivion as I gain loft. With a strong rhythmic flow my wings push off and away from the earth. In minutes, she was just a lonely speck on the ground. It was wonderful to feel freedom once again. Not often would the ‘witch of the dark arts’ give me that.  I sailed along, just gliding high in the skies in the mist of clouds searching, seeking the signs of Skyseeker. Light drops of moisture congealed on my face as I grazed the watery aether. With a quick toss of my head the drops began their long journey to the ground below. As the winds picked up I could smell the scent of his marked territory, I did not like the thought of attacking him on familiar ground. A dragon defending his territory has a greater will, but I was prepared for this. Dropping down from the heights, I began the search of the best hunting grounds. Ignoring the potential prey that I saw I looked for evidence of recent kills. I saw none.

Skimming lower, I could see a lazy river making its way through the woods flowing at a casual pace. The deer that were drinking from it looked like easy kills. As I neared, they saw the approaching shadow of death that I cast and retreated back into the trees. Their white tails danced behind them, a beacon that truly enticed me. But even in my hunger I didn’t stop. I had a greater heat.

I sensed him near. His scent was fresh. His presence was close. I lifted higher catching a local thermal, rising to a height where I thought I could spot him. There, there he was attempting to go aloft with a large buck that he had in his large claws. I could see the buck in death’s throes struggling and bellowing as it bled. This ‘kill’ was giving him trouble. Too bad, he would never get its taste.

Dropping down from above, I came in hard and came in fast with a shoulder strike; it flipped him in midair. Startled, he dropped the still moving buck.  Dinner picked itself off the ground and ran into the nearby woods. Skyseeker, spotting me, took off.  It looked like he didn’t want to play. I gave chase. Skyseeker was fast and agile, trying to get into position above him was a real trick. I hit him with claws extended getting a lock on his body.  I raked my claws across his shoulder, watching as the green ichor began to pour from the fresh wound. In an unexpected move he latrched onto me, balled himself up and bit me in the abdomen. I released him in pain, watching him in a death dive his wings pulled up tight.  It looked like he was trying to pull up as he hit. I didn’t give it a moment’s thought. There was a bloodied buck out there that was going to feed me.

After I ripped off the last large chunk off the corpse, I let it slide down my throat. There is nothing better than the taste of fresh kill. Reluctantly, I took flight to return to my mistress. By focusing on her image and picturing her, I was able to quickly return to her. My landing wasn’t perfect. The bite on my stomach was still causing me pain. Folding my wings alongside my back I walked catlike up to her and nuzzled her neck as she stood back to me.

Is the deed done?
Yes Mistress
Did you watch him die?
I saw him hit the ground. I’m sure he didn’t live long after that.
Then let us retire to Raven’s Claw and I will tend to your wound. We will walk as I see that you are hurt.
Was it painful?
Yes Mistress
Good, then after your wound is cleaned you may seek a female. You have earned the privilege to mate. Draconus, you have done well!

Chapter 4
Black Dragoness

In darkness I sit on an obsidian throne and ponder this eventful day. As drops of water splatter about me and little creatures scurry squeaking their fears, I laugh out loud, the echoes of manic laughter ring about me only accentuating the great emptiness that surrounds me. Pictures of the day fly quickly through a remembering. Some I savor and then release, others I play over and over again. The one that I enjoy the most is seeing Draconus take off to begin my revenge against my misguided ‘sister of the arts’. I haven’t forgotten you. Yes, I feel your life thread even now. Your life I will lay out in ruin before I take that. This I promise hell and its glory. I will look into your eyes and you will know fear. Know today, I have made an oath to a demon of dark, Belial that I will have your blood on the end of my sheth.

Leaning back into the throne, I begin my transformation. As clothes drop away I take my second form. The change is painful but I bear it well. I let loose a primal scream of a call to the darkness that echoes over and over finally dying in the distance. I fly to the top of the cavern, turn upside down, fold my wings about me in a cocoon shape and begin to roost and dream the dreams of hell.

Chapter 5
Amazira

Dawn drifts in dangling itself on the edge of morning’s horizon. Warmth and light seeps in through the skin of tightly closed eyes. I don’t want to open my eyes. My heart beats in unison with a friend. His essence mingles with mine as I grow stronger in the day. Reluctantly, I open tired eyes to the new day. I release my hold on Skyseeker, stepping away to see how well he has healed. Time, magic and nature have restored him. I run my hands over his still sleeping form to check for new scars. Satisfied, I walk away from a now awakening dragon.

Lifting his head, he bugles in dismay. Amazira, where do you leave to?

I can’t look him in the eyes. Back turned to him I keep walking. Shouting out, I speak,

I have an ‘old friend’ I need to visit.

In my walk to Black Dragoness’s lair all I saw was red. No one had ever attacked Skyseeker before. I promised the Great Spirit that my revenge would be a swift retribution. Only one dragonrider would’ve dared to have had my dragon attacked. She knew of my love for him and wanted to use it against me. Fine, war is what you’ll get. Shortly before sunset, I arrived at her well hidden cave. With a simple prayer on my lips, I entered.

Caverns passage lies before my eyes. My twisted sister, the adept Black Dragoness was known to roost here. Lighting my torch, I then drew out my crossbow and the wooden crossbolts with the silver tips from my backpack.  I slowly and carefully made my way through the now lit passageway. The echoes of my footsteps reverberated against the wall and then back to me. The smell of death hung in the air, I wondered if she ever cleaned out her cave of old kills. The stench almost made me turn back, but I remembered why I came. Memory told me I was nearing the main chamber. Her smell was umistakable, it hung in the air. She was in her form of a werebat.

I lifted the torch and scanned the ceiling, hoping to catch her napping. No such luck, she was already coming at me. Dropping the torch to the ground, I took aim. I wanted a chest shot, but she fluttered off line taking the shot in the wing. It dropped her to the floor, where she transformed to human shape, pulling out her sheth she came at me. “Today, sister know the sting of death”, her voice rose to a scream as she neared.

My clothes dropped from me as I became wolf, with a quick leap I was upon her. Tooth meets flesh and knife finds fur. I have a throat lock and taste her sweet blood. So satisfying, was its taste. Jankiel, her demon blessed dagger works its way in. Her knife penetrates farther into my intestines. The pain is unbearable. I release my hold on her and pull off the knife. Breathing hard, I looked down at my mortal wound as my life oozes from me. Looking back at her I see that she has already died. In agony, I prepared myself for my own fate. With my last bit of energy I return to human form. Folding my hands over my stomach, I try to staunch the flow of blood. Something inside me begins to let go and visions of past memories fill precious last seconds and then I crossover.

Parting Clouds lifts me away from the cold damp ground of the cave. Smiling at me, he remarks, I’ve missed you daughter. We have a new universe to play in now. I welcome you to these Happy Hunting Grounds. I laugh and give him a happy hug. It just feels so terribly right. My pain is gone replaced by the love that I am. The light blinds and envelops and speaks in a soft voice to me.

I roam the mortal skies above, sometimes I am the wind that whistles gently past Skyseeker’s ears. He knows I am there and we fly together in spirit and love. His dragonsong echoes across the living land, his dear mistress flies once again with him. I am the wind beneath his wings as he lifts higher and higher into the sunset.