A Dying Breed

by Anna Hoyler

A dragon had been terrorizing the village of Blue Water, so the elders had decided to offer it a maid in hopes it would go away. Kaida, daughter of the innkeeper, had gotten the shortest straw. She was a beautiful girl both in spirit and skin, well loved by everyone, so it was with great sadness that they took her out of the town and left her bound tightly to a post.

“Maybe some dashing knight will slay the dragon and rescue her.” Everyone said, but few believed it would happen.

 Kaida fought with her ropes until her wrists were raw and bloody. Finally giving up, she leaned against the pole she was bound to. Carefully she regulated her gasping, trying to calm herself. Her breathing was natural and her heart almost level when a huge shadow flew overhead. A scream tore from her as a massive golden dragon landed in front of her. Kaida scrunched her eyes such and turned away, expecting dragon fire to burn her to a crisp any moment. As the wait grew longer she began to cry.

 “Oh, do not do that, darling.” A huge, deep voice rumbled. A cool smooth object touched her face, and turned her head forward again. She flinched and bit back a scream as a portion of her petticoat was torn away. A piece of cloth gently wiped her face.

 “Now, it is alright to open thine eyes, I am not going to eat thee right now.” Carefully Kaida opened her eyes. A good four feet away was the dragon’s head; the rest of it was draped around her pole. Her eyes were almost immediately drawn to the massive mouth filled with sharp teeth; a mouth so large that it could fit she and her father (the largest man in Blue Water) whole, and still had space to squeeze in a cake.

 “Y-y-you’re not?” Kaida gasped.

 “No. I have already eaten.” The dragon gave a frightening smile.

 “Oh.” Kaida shifted nervously, still crying softly.

 The dragon reached out one of its claws toward her face. The silver claw was covered with a piece of cloth that looked a lot like her petticoat material. The girl flinched away, but the dragon wiped her eyes anyway.

 “That is far better. What is thy name?”

 “Kaida.”

 “Thou hast a fine name. Mine is Ytiloomatrikmastolinevrikhesmarvegzenysss-vyshilatenelooskrikikika.”

 Kaida blinked once; twice; three times.

 “But thou may call me Ytil.”

 “Alright…Um, if you’re not going to eat me, um, um, why are you, ah, here?” Kaida asked hesitantly after several moments of silence.

 “I am in search of someone to speak with.” Ytil explained. “It is hard for an old dragon to find someone to converse with these days. I am the oldest of my kind, and all the younger speak of is knights, and gold, and battles.” The old dragon sighed and laid its head on its front feet, much as a cat or dog would. “I used to be able to find a human who would be willing to converse with me, but now they are all too afraid.” Ytil sat very still for several long minutes, staring off to Kaida’s right. Kaida took it as a chance to inspect him—she thought it was a him anyway—closer. His scales were cracked and worn, the gold closer to ripe wheat. His eye (she could only see one) was deep red with a wide slit pupil. She squinted a little and realized that it wasn’t one wide pupil; it was two smaller ones! While she was confused by this Ytil stirred.

 “The world is no longer as it was, little Kaida. Much has changed in the centuries since my hatching. But why speak of myself when thou surely hast stories of thy own? Speak, little human, tell me of thyself.”

 Kaida chewed on her lower lip a moment, thinking. “Well, I’m from the village of Blue Water…Um, my dad is innkeeper of the Silver Fish inn; we have the best ales for miles. We get all kinds of odd people from distant lands, merchants, soldiers, once we even had a dragon slayer!” Kaida realized what she’d just said. “Oops.” She whispered.

 Ytil laughed softly, “A dragon slayer? Surely he had dragon teeth to show around, perhaps even a dragon claw sword? My goodness.”

 “Y-y-y-yes.” Kaida answered.

 Ytil laughed again. “Do not fear, little human, I need not worry; if he were still in thy village he would have attacked me by now. Tell me more of thy village.”

 “Um, there’s really not that much more to say.” Kaida struggled to think of something. “A duke once passed through, when I was a child.”

 “Very well. If thou art out of ideas, it is my turn to speak.” And speak the dragon did. He spoke of a time long before Kaida’s birth, when the dragons and humans lived alongside each other, in harmony. He told of the dark dragons, which appeared and tried to ruin that harmony; of the great battles that had been fought in yesteryears. He spoke of loves lost, and loves won; victories of man and victories of dragons; betrayals and surprise alliances. Kaida was swept away, and it was only when he stopped that she realized the sun was setting and she was still bound to a wooden post.

 “Ay, young one, the world is not as it was.” Ytil finished and laid his head back down. As the darkness spread from the shadows he was silent. Kaida shivered and waited for him to speak. Finally he stirred himself and lifted his head.

 “This has been pleasant, Kaida,” The large mouth came closer, “It was a delight to speak with thee. Now, as for what to do; I can not leave thee here to die of cold or be eaten by a wild animal, nor can I eat thee in good conscious, considering this time I have shared with thee.” The post shook, and Kaida stumbled away from it, her arms numb.

 “Go; tell thy leaders that Ytiloomatrikmastolinevrikhesmarvegzenysssvyshil-atenelooskrikikika will no longer pillage thy herds.”

 “Thank you.” Kaida stepped carefully out of the circle of gold.

 “Allow me to insure that no animals attack thee. You may wish to cover thy ears.” Ytil threw back his head and roared. The sound echoed around the valley, bouncing off the hills.

 “Go now, and remember me.”

 Kaida curtsied. “I shall never forget you.” She hurried to her village.

 Ytiloomatrikmastolinevrikhesmarvegzenysssvyshilatenelooskrikikika watched her go, and a weary smile touched his lips.

 “A dying breed, that one. Almost as rare as mine.” He whispered to the night, then spread his wings and was gone from that valley forever.

Syllables in Ytil’s name:

Ytil-oomat-rik-mas-tolin-evrik-hesmar-vegzen-ysss-vyshil-aten-eloos-kriki-ki-ka

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