Saturday, May 19, 2007

A Reproduction


From the Minor Annals- VII.


That year the light died for a space.

That year the Ice Dragon woke during the long darks and swept the sky down upon us. He came after the Solstice rites when the sun was weak and young.

Within and without the grove, the ancient trees shook and splintered like spears, until they glittered like dim death runes beneath his wings.

The isan of his breath rimed about our dwelling like teeth and locked us in crystal and cold.

We cowered in the inmost room of the sanctuary against the silver darkness.

I fed our trembling fire and watched the candles whimper.

I drew and worked my puny magics and prayed. For I was guardian of three: a wounded warrior, a stripling boy, and a dying dog.

For nine days and nights we endured, until he was driven back, driven northward; and the light, though weak and scratched and worn, returned.

Now, when the wind sifts snow like salt against my window, I shiver.

Remembering that weary year.

19 comments:

Sam said...

Utterly gorgeous!

Steve G said...

I can see it as if I was a part of the story. Exceptional, Bernita.

Bernita said...

Aw, Sam. Thank you.

Thank you, Steve. Perhaps that's the highest compliment possible.

spyscribbler said...

An Ice Dragon! That is cool. I agree with Steve. Almost all of these promise a fabulous story. Novel, even. I treasure reading these annals on the weekends.

Bernita said...

Thank you, Natasha.
My pleasure.

Steve G said...

Bernita, the highest compliment I can pay you, is to purchase your novel after it's published. And that is something I'm looking forward to.

Dave said...

I always enjoy your Minor annals but the real qestion is "what are these three people hiding from and why?" The dragon is obviously a metaphor for a severe winter storm and the magic a fire that sustains them. But something else is after them. what is it. When they venture out (in the spring, so to speak) what do they find?

raine said...

Now, when the wind sifts snow like salt against my window, I shiver.

Absolutley awesome. Oh, my.

Going out to sit in the warm sun now...

Bernita said...

Thank you, Steve.

Glad you enjoy them, Dave.
No, something else isn't after them in this instance. If you've lived through a prolonged ice storm, you'd find the weather sufficient unto the day.

Bernita said...

Thank you, Raine.
Easy to understand why the sun was an object of worship, isn't it?

Charles Gramlich said...

Beautifully written. Your imagery is fantastic.

Bernita said...

Charles, you are very kind. Thank you.

Annie Wicking and Loman Austen said...

Wonderful and beautiful written.

I would love to read more... Have you had anything published yet?

Annie

Bernita said...

Annie, thank you...From the Minor Annals is posted on Saturdays.

Just short stuff.

LadyBronco said...

"I fed our trembling fire and watched the candles whimper."

Love it ~ and as always, the picture is so very appropriate to your wonderful story!

Marie said...

Beautiful. Love 'the ancient trees shook and splintered like spears, until they glittered like dim death runes beneath his wings'.

Bernita said...

Thank you, Lady B. and Marie...delighted that those lines visualized!

Anonymous said...

The picture of the northern lights shows two big gleams in the middle, like fangs of the descending dragon.

Asa

Bernita said...

Didn't notice that, Asa, you're right!