Dragon in the Blood
This is my first attempt at Internet publication. I have used the world created by White Wolf publishing as a basis for this story. The usage of items/creatures that appear in this story are not a challenge to White Wolf's IP. If this story is popular enough, I may make a series out of it, so let me know what you think, please.
Part I
It's strange what I can remember with clarity as though it just happened and what is fuzzy to me even now. More often than not, that which I can remember clearly are memories that I did not experience myself, in this body, but I still experience them with all the vividness and "reality" as that received by the original possessors of these memories. In the end, it matters little...whether one is the originator of an experience or the receptacle of it. All must Remember. For all I know, I may be the last...but that is something that I must not dwell on. I'm getting ahead of myself. Let me tell you the story of how I came to possess The Memory.
From what I can recall, I was an unremarkable child. I was loved by my father, as any child should be. It was a small family...just Father, myself, and the occasional visit by my aunt and grandparents, kin of my mother...who I never knew in the flesh. I spent much of my time while I was young playing about outside on the farm next to the swamp. It was an alligator farm, you see...more of a small preserve than anything else. Father made ends meet by doing odd jobs around my small hometown of Ravenel. If someone's truck or house needed repairing, it was a good bet that Father was there helping them in exchange for food or other goods. He taught me everything I know about automotive mechanics. I apologize, once again I find myself getting off track. The memories come to me in streams, you see...and it is difficult to hold them back once I travel up one of the many tributaries that flow through my mind.
Now, then...Father always said that I was his "special" son. I took these verbalizations of love for granted, as most children do, until one day I asked him why I was special. His response was, "Because you are, and your mother told me just how special you will be." That cryptic statement puzzled me, and remained lodged in my memory solidly through all of my formative years...kept company by my knowledge that the swamp lay exactly 129 steps out the back door...or that 12 steps out the front door, a hop over a small hole, and 6 more steps would leave me at the street past our house; the boundary of my playtime domain. I've always had a knack for memorizing information that would appear to be trivial, but that I felt was important at the time. Looking back now, I had almost all the clues necessary to realize how "special" I was. However, that realization didn't come to me for many years yet.
As I advanced in age, father began asking more tasks of me, as is normal for this rural area. He asked me to come with him on hikes through the swamp around the farm. I can still smell the sticky-sweet air of my first venture into the swamp. He showed me the gators, lying placidly on the ground sunning themselves, and demonstrated how to move about them without attracting undue attention. I was always fascinated by them, but I had never ventured this close before, as I was no fool at even that age. A fall from a tree I would risk...but being this close to an alpha bull gator...even with Father there, I felt intrepid. After my first excursion amongst those majestic reptiles, Father took me deeper into the swamp, and demonstrated the use of a rifle to me. I took it up, and following his instructions, discharged a single round harmlessly deep into the waters of the swamp. I knew how to use it, and fired it ably, but something with the heavy cold metal didn't sit well with me. Father nodded sagely as I handed him the weapon, and I never touched it again. He said something then that I also haven't forgotten.
"The gun is the great equalizer. But, none are more equal than those who are gifted and skilled in the knowledge of their own bodies." I nodded my understanding, and immediately set about digesting and understanding what he meant before returning to my room at the house, and recording it in my school binder. I determined in that moment that I would know more about the swamp I lived in than any man who had walked there before. From that day, my excursions into the swamp learning by trial and error, always mindful and respectful of the gators, became a daily trip. I would return home for a shower and a modest dinner, followed by my evening homework.
I had three great loves in my life then. My family, to include Father, the gators, and my often absent aunt and grandmother, my daily treks into the swamp, and learning. Do not laugh. Just because I came from a swamp does not mean that my mind can not be as sharp as my survival skills. In particular, I loved History...but in practice, I would absorb and learn anything placed in front of me. This life was my balance, and it remained in perfect harmony as I progressed through my teens and the arrival of young manhood appeared in me. After a series of growth spurts leading up to my 15th birthday, I was almost as tall as Father. As my body grew more and more out of the shape I had for so long been accustomed to, I became more and more clumsy...I felt as though I was in a body not mine. It was unique. Looking back and Remembering, I see now that it is something that all must go through. I however, felt singled out, for not only did it feel to me like I might walk out of my own body by accident...it also felt to me as though *something* was trying to claw it's way out of me. On the dawn of my 15th birthday, I left the house just before dawn, after a night of restless slumber, and bidden by some force I even now have difficulty explaining, hiked into the swampy forest looking for I knew not what.
As I passed the gators by, I was seized by a sudden thought. They shouldn't be out here. They spend the nights in the warm water, away from the cool night air. On this twilit morning, they had assembled themselves along the path that I regularly take into the swamp. The fear and uncertainty within my sould melted away as they gazed at me as one. My fear was replaced with a stoic courage, flowing from I knew not where. Almost unbidden, my feet moved forward of their own accord, taking me step by step into the swamp. The gators made no move as I passed them by, save turning their heads as I passed them. I thought my eyes may have been playing tricks on me, for I thought that several of them bowed their great heads as I met them.
I did not look back as the great trees of the swamp closed in around me. As I walked further, the formerly still air gave way to a light breeze. The groaning of trees and the whistling of the wind sounded like an ancient language...one that existed before man, one that would be here long after man is gone. Then, I began to hear words. Words became sentences. Even in my unsure state, every word was burned into my memory as solidly as if it had been done with a burning pen. As the light of the rising sun began to burn into the darkness of Shadow Moss swamp, I turned towards the ephemeral voices, and strained to hear them.
Cull...the...fallen...
Let...no...shade...accuse...you...
Guard...the...wallow...
The...veil...must...not...be...lifted...
Test...the...clutch...
All...are...of...Gaia...
As the meanings of these cryptic words began to lace themselves together in my mind, I became aware of warmth on the side of my face. It was sunlight. The dawn was here. I turned towards the light, and was struck by a vision of beauty. The light of the sun was bearing down through the thick tree cover and spanish moss. The beams caught and refracted into a kaleidoscope of colors by the morning dew that covered all that I saw. It seemed to me that this sunbeam alone cut through the surrounding darkness to illuminate my way in this uncertain time. As I looked into the sun, I heard the voice utter one final, unmistakeable word.
REMEMBER !
The force of that word crashing into my consciousness drove me to my knees, and I closed my eyes against the blinding light...but I could still see. I beheld a vision within my sunstruck eyes, one of breathtaking majesty. I saw a great creature, its body covered in scale armor plates the color of newly grown moss and fresh blood. The creature rose above the forest, and I could see that it was held aloft by gigantic wings that could blot out the sky as easily as does the forest. Its long tail cracked like a whip over the tops of the trees, strong, sturdy muscles toiled under its armor skin as it hovered there. Its ivory talons gleamed in the newly birthed sunlight. I gazed up at it as it trumpeted a challenge, and then locked eyes with me. It brought its wings down in mighty downbeats, and I felt the wind upon my face. I closed my eyes as dust filled them, and slowly reopened them moments later.
I was looking down upon an empty clearing in the swamp, my wings continuing their frenzied work in concert with my flight-shoulders to keep me aloft. That was when I realized that they were *my* wings. My newly long neck allowed me to quickly look about. I was that creature that I had seen. A new dragon was upon the Earth. A rising wave of panic was matched by a feeling of exultation and completeness. My newly reworked senses drank in all my surroundings in a way I had never before experienced. Then, The Memory came to me. I was unprepared for it, and the experiences of a hundred thousand lifetimes and more crashed into me with all the force of a mental sledgehammer. I couldn't think; I could hardly move. With a roar of panic, my enormous body crashed back into the clearing below. As I lay there inert, experiencing nothing but The Memory for hours, I began to set things straight. I perceived a great primeval murk, then the fog fell back from my vision. I beheld dim visions of flights of winged creatures soaring through the sky in practiced formation. I beheld herds of great saurians being shepherded and guided by others. This vision faded, to be replaced with the vision of many different changing breeds living side by side; some with scales, others with feathers or fur. Then, I saw blood and hatred. I saw battles...many, many battles...involving creatures that looked much as I do now. I saw them fighting things that looked like giant man-wolves...the word "Garou" entered my mind, unbidden by any knowledge I possessed. These wolves, of silvery-white pelts, were attacking and battling with the reptile-creatures. Numbers were on the side of these "Garou", and time after time again, I felt the burning, white-hot feeling of a mortal wound dealt within my Memory. I could feel the lifesblood pouring down my chest. I felt weak and spent as the Memories showed me the retreat of the Mokole' to a place called "Entoban". The arising human culture and geographical features soon paired this Entoban with my own knowledge of Africa. I saw those who the Mokole' befriended in Entoban defeated and enslaved by rival tribes, and traded to men in great sailing ships who departed to the West. I saw bands of Mokole' depart in search of their lost friends and family. The feeling of sorrow that overwhelmed me was partially my own, partially that of the Memory I now experienced. Even within my mind's eye, I could feel the sting of tears forming. I witnessed lifetimes spent in slavery. I witnessed hatchlings taken from their mothers to be sent to market. I witnessed atrocity. I witnessed the birth of a hatchling that would be called mixed-race, the result of a union between one of the owners and a slave girl. During this ones early life, I witnessed the end of slavery. I saw him take up books and a last name: VanBuren. And I knew in that moment that this was my great-great-great grandfather. I watched with swelling pride as my families history played out before me, and then...a terrible, terrible pain consumed my body. Expecting another murder, I was surprised to Remember a serene setting. A home birthing. That was when I recognized the man who was present in my vision. He was younger, to be sure...but it was Father. This woman, then, must be...I forced my thinking mind to be silent as I experienced the Memory...the closest I would ever be to flesh and blood with Mother. I felt her pain. I knew she was dying. I heard her tell Father about me before she finally gave me life, and quietly gave up her own. The pain in my body faded to numbness...but the stinging of tears in my eyes refused to go away. The sorrowful liquid ran freely down my scaled snout and onto the ground. I felt a great diminishing, and the chill feeling of the air was upon my skin.
I opened my eyes, and I was once again human. All that I had experienced was still within me. That, and so much more; I could feel a burning within my body. A yearning for that other form, a desire to let loose my feelings.
My shredded pajamas lay all about me. I picked up my intact jacket, and wrapped it about myself, and headed back to the house through the crisp morning air. From my perspective, and from what the Memory gave me, I answered every question I had myself on my way back. All but one: What do I do now?
When I arrived back at the farm, Father was sitting out back with one of the bulls laying on the ground next to him. As I approached, he gave me a "knowing nod". And looked down towards the bull. My gaze followed his, and I wasn't at all surprised when the bull looked at me and spoke.
"Welcome back, Blooded Scales."
Up Next: Part II - The High School Years
Many things changed for me then. The old bull, whose name I came to find out was Eyes in Still Water, was another Mokole'. He had lived in my family's wallow ever since he was hatched over 90 years ago. He was a Warding Mokole', his greatest duty being to defend the wallow. He revealed to me that his sight had failed him over ten years earlier, and though he would do all he could to teach me and help me understand what I already knew...that because he could not complete his Duty, that it now fell to me. He was confused at my anger over this, and I tried to explain to him that I had plans for life already. His response was every bit as memorable and cryptic as one of my Father's. "It is odd that you have plans for life, hatchling, as it is always life that has a plan for you." This took me aback, and I re-evaluated my options. Then, the idea that I could do both what I wanted and what was now expected of me.
Father, Eyes, and I discussed my ideas at length that evening. Father showed a mixture of chagrin and pride at my desire to continue pursuing my education, and although Eyes found the entire concept of classroom learning laughable, he gave his blessings so long as my activities outside the wallow did not prevent me from defending it from threats. This was acceptable to me, and we all agreed on the accord. Eyes returned to the waters, and Father took me to the falling-down garage that leaned on our house. He said that if I was going to be pursuing the knowledge of my books that I had best have a car to get to and from. He opened the old door of the garage, the rusted hinges loudly protesting the unfamiliar usage, and the light of Sun shined upon Willy, Father's old Jeep.
The rest of that last summer before my Freshman year, Father taught me all there was he could teach about automotive mechanics. I knew Willy inside and out like the back of my hand. I could give it a tune up or overhaul hanging upside down with my eyes blinded. I spent much time with Eyes in Still Water, each of us swimming through Shadow Moss in suchid bodies. The old reptile knew that swamp better than I knew Willy. He recounted to me the tales of how the wallow had come to be, and how the Kin of my family had always been there to upkeep it. Now, he said, it was time for one of my family to take his rightful place in The Memory.
"There is something now that you must see, Blooded Scales...and know that it will not be the last time that you look upon such things." Eyes' tail moved in lazy arcs behind his large body, propelling him effortlessly through the water. Even though I had my sight and he did not, I had to push myself to keep up with the old one and his flawless memories of the waters about us.
"What is it, Eyes...what do you want to show...me..." The croaking of my voice died away as the feeling of the swamp about us changed from the warm embrace of Mother to a foreboding sense of something leering at us. I felt out of place, and unwelcome. Eyes remained silent, and so did I as we broke away from the living swamp, entering stagnant waters that reeked of dead flesh and putrescent plantlife. The trees that grew out of the water here were dead, barkless things that rose out of the black waters, calling to mind the ribs of some long-dead carcass. Nothing alive was in the water, save the two of us. But I occasionally saw movement at the edge of my vision, and was always greeted by ripples in the dead water when I looked more closely. Wordlessly, Eyes turned around in the water, and headed back into the swamp, and I followed him with relief.
"What was that?" I asked in hushed tones, not wanting my voice to carry.
"That, hatchling, was a spawning pool of the Dissolver...that which was meant to bring balance to the Creator and the Designer, but which was bound to this world and now corrupts, rather than renews. That is what you may face in the near future, but will face before your cycle begins anew. That spawning pool I helped cleanse in my youngest seasons, when Long Teeth Shine Brightly was still with us...but as we could both feel, the taint of the Dissolver does not give up or stay away forever. That pool is becoming more powerful, and you shall have to face it soon, or later." No more words were exchanged as we travelled back to the house. That trek left me with much to think about as the summer wore on.
The burning desire within me to unleash what Eyes called my Drachid form continued to grow over the summer. When I inquired Eyes about this, he said that it was my Rage trying to surface. He told me that it was something that all have to deal with...and he congratulated me on my strength of will to restrain that which lie within me and could be used to great evil if I lost control and Fell. At my continued worry over the situation, Eyes suggested that I find an outlet for my rapidly developing body, something that I would enjoy and would be productive. Father was again amused at the choice I made. Eyes was not, but he stopped short of chastising me, since I was fulfilling my Duty as determined by our agreement. I tried out for the Ravenel High School football team. Eyes said that he couldn't comprehend why I was giving so much credence to the human side of my mind, as it made up only a very small part of the whole. My response was that my human side was all that I had that I could claim as my own. Given that logic, he said that he felt that it was a waste of my ability, but that the wallow may benefit from my physical training.
After two months of weight training and agility drills, my raw ability was evident for anyone to see. I wasn't picked to be a starter, but I was one of only three freshmen who made the Varsity team. My great stamina allowed me to play iron man football, playing running back on offense, and inside linebacker on defense. I was a starter in both by my Sophomore year, when I lettered in football, wrestling, and track.
Of course, my High School years were not just all about sports. I still had a great love of learning, and I was an Honor Roll student. I had my eyes on an actual future in the "real world". I always told myself that I could do more for those that I came from by working within the system rather than being something that could only exist on the fringe of society. I worked unceasingly to keep my more bestial urges to myself while away from the wallow...but being away from home always tore me up inside, no matter what I accomplished in school. At first, I thought maybe I wasn't doing enough...maybe I should help others while I am out here, as well...and so, in addition to taking College preparatory classes, I began tutoring classmates, many of which were team-mates of mine, or girls on the ladies teams that I'd cheer for before suiting up myself. All of them benefited from my knowledge...my nickname on the football field became "Professor". I was rich with friends. Many of the girls wanted to be more than friends with me...regretfully, I turned them all down. I didn't have time for *that* too, with my duties at the wallow taking up my time that wasn't in school. It was so unfair, and I was angry at myself for feeling so content patrolling the waters of the swamp until dusk, and feeling so empty at school with all that I had accomplished. I knew in my heart that leaving for College was an impossibility...it wasn't that it couldn't be afforded, my grants and Scholarships would take me to any College I wanted, outside of Ivy League. No, it wasn't the lack of money. I knew that I couldn't stand being away from the wallow for that long. My heart and The Memory knew what I was supposed to be doing...but the side of me that was human still refused to fully accept that and what it meant. And so, I continued to pursue the illusion that I could be "normal."
On the night of graduation, I attended the Senior party with my many friends. I had intended to stay for only a little while, as I still had my nightly Duty to see to...and the Dissolver pit had been feeling much more malignant recently. However, my friends convinced me to have a "few drinks", just to relax a little. And relax I did...as the alcohol clouded my brain, The Memory receded completely, and I was completely the human I once was...albeit a drunken one. I revelled in the feeling of freedom, and toasted my friends on our many past successes and what was sure to come. Mindy, one of the cheerleaders whom I had tutored and had followed me around ever since, evidently noticed my lack of inhibition, and was immediately at my side. Even as I noticed the time, she convinced me to stay at the party and join her for some...private drinks. Her female attentions kept me bolted to that house as surely as an iron spike until well into the night. When I finally emerged from the side room, those of my team mates who had not passed out shouted raucous congratulations, and, smiling, I waved at them, and then slowly drove Willy back to the wallow.
As I approached the house, I could smell blood on the air...and that's when I felt it. The feeling that I experienced at the Dissolver pit with Eyes now gripped me with a terrible strength. Fear catching my breath in my throat, I ran to the back yard, and saw Father laying on the ground...still in the Sunday best that he had worn to the Graduation and reception. His rifle lay across his lap, covered with blood that oozed from the mangled mass of muscle and tendon that used to be his legs. I cried out to him as I knelt next to him and cradled his broken form. His eyes opened, and I could see that the light of his life was already dimming.
"My...son..." his voice was a whispering death-rattle, not the strong tenor of a veteran that I remembered.
"Father, I'm sorry...I'm so, so sorry...I love you, and I hate myself for this..."
"Quiet, son...I'm the one that needs to do the talking right now...so you just listen." I nodded my head. He let go of the rifle, and propped himself up on an elbow. "I love you, son...no matter what, I love you, and I'm proud of you. All of us were. Remember, my boy...that is what you do. Remember. So long as you do that, the answers to your questions are yours. So long as you Remember..." his free hand embraced me, and I could feel the strength ebbing from him. "...I...will always...be with...you." With a sigh, his hand released me, and he fell upon the ground, his spirit departed.
As the sting of tears welled up within me, so did an undying anger...an anger that would not be denied now. I looked about the back yard and swamp, and I saw them...creeping, crawling, unearthly *things*. Things that had no business existing; creatures that had been warped in existence and purpose and set to an unspeakable cause. Even as my body began to shift, I screamed my anger and hatred at them. They crawled forward as one as my rage took my Archid form and waded into them, destroying the creatures on all sides even as they pressed on in unceasing waves. My eyes blurred over in crimson as Memory stepped forward again, Is becoming Was, Was becoming Now, and I lost all sense of time in an endless vision of battle and dissolving horrid bodies.
After the last of the creatures were dispatched, I traveled to the pit to destroy it no matter the cost...to find I was too late. The malignant presence was gone...departed to other waters. The destruction of my wallow being only a loose end to tie up before moving on. Crestfallen, I returned to the house to begin setting affairs in order, and to mourn.
Father's death was ruled a result of gator attack. The officials looked for the gators for a week before giving up. I allowed them to look because I knew they wouldn't find them, as neither could I. The only evidence that gators had lived behind that decrepit old house was Father's horrible wound, and one of Eyes' legs. Of the others, Sunspot, Shadelight, Mossplank, and Highback there was not a trace.
I spent a week with my Aunt and Grandmother before I felt a pulling. I knew where I had to be. And I could get myself there. I made a few calls to USC, and had them approve me spending my first semester in Brazil. I left Willy and Father's gun with my Aunt, and left for the airport with enough money for tickets, Father's old longcoat, and a newfound purpose in life. One that I had accepted.
I was going to the Amazon.