Dragon Child - Prologue


Nox (the night god) cast his cloak over Fargone, while the lustful breath of Ventus (the goddess of wind) did swirl violently at the demanding voice of Tonare (the god of thunder), as the envious fingers of Lux (the goddess of lightning) did highlight the dark sky. Sol (the day god) refused to be a spectator to such turmoil amidst the heavens, as his duty as guardian was over for a time. It was a great clash of strength and jealousy, but few did mind the windows to observe such fierce battles of the gods.

Praying to them did very little for those who dwelt in Fargone, and perhaps it would be a blessing if their denial of the gods did anger the deities enough to draw their attention. In the minds of many, the wrath of the gods would bring forth a longed for peace; for, in their fleshly torments, they considered not what may wait for their souls in the spirit realm. Surely, they would not be cast into the torments of outer darkness in the underworld by the god Dauthus in death, given they had been dealt such misfortune in life.

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Fargone was a decaying settlement of exiles. It was here that one was sent if they were found to have the plague or sickness which could not be healed, to protect others from befalling to such punishments from the gods. Those born with abnormalities – whether of the mind, body, or senses – were often delivered to this desolate place, considering it the only way to remove such genes from infecting further into society. Likewise were those maidens found with child, having no husbands, abandoned in Fargone, being an embarrassment to their families. One was not sent unto nor happen upon Fargone as a place to heal and revive, but was rather delivered unto a cesspool therein to slowly decay and die.
             Lillian found herself alone and afraid, cast amongst the outskirts of the wasteland of desolate souls. She was only seventeen years old. How could such befall so young a child? He had promised her glory and riches, but above all, love; yet, he had defiled her, taken her purity, and all that she was, ripping it from her very soul without mercy. She was left broken, naked, and worthless, quivering within death’s grip upon the cold, winter ground. Lillian’s skin was numb, her lips cracked, and her body laced with blood and bruises. The small heartbeat within her bosom kept her straining for breath, begging for the gods to save her unborn child.
            Lillian barely felt the hint of a warm blanket cover her frozen body. Her muscles were too constricted to be startled, as she could scarcely make out the figure through the thin slit of her eyelids. She could sense the sound waves of a soft, encouraging voice, but her eardrums were too weak to give her any clear understanding as to what was being said. Lillian was merely at the mercy of whomever it was that had happened upon her. Perhaps they would show her some compassion. Oh, how she prayed that they might. Then she lost consciousness.
             Lillian awoke to find herself in an unknown place. The room was dim, with a single lantern giving it light. She lay upon a bed that was somewhat lumpy, covered with a wool blanket which smelt rather stale. But how could she complain? The hunched over shadow at the end of the room had clearly been her savior this night. The space may have been small, perhaps a poor widow’s cottage, but it was warm, cozy, and a safe place from the elements outside. Lillian’s lips held a faint smile, as she gently massaged her belly with her tender hands.
Though she hated the evil man with all her being, Lillian could never bring herself to kill the child within her. That had been why she was tormented and left for dead. She had fled when she was found with child, and the father had commanded her to rid herself of his offspring. He would not father a child with a harlot, nor would he marry one of inferior race. She had been discovered and chastised without pity, then discarded as pure filth in Fargone. Truth was, Lillian had been the virgin daughter of the lord of Clearbrooke, before her captivity by the very evil which did impregnate her and cast her away.
            The blood fled from Lillian’s face. She froze, trying to collect her thoughts and decipher whether she was awake or dreaming. Something was wrong, alarmingly wrong! It could not be! What had happened? She pressed harder, grasping handfuls of skin. Her belly was empty – empty. Surely, she could not have lost the life within her womb, not after all she had been through. Where was her baby?

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