There were occasions where Tristan let men into his cave just so he could see their reactions to his appearance, hoping those awes would be enough to fill the void he felt from his insecurities. The events from each occasion resulted the same way, but the first one was the only he could completely remember. As he heard footsteps approaching his cave on that occasion, he began to inhale as much oxygen as he could into his lungs to cool down all the fire building up in his throat. Once the fire cooled off, he was able to inhale and exhale freely without releasing any fire. As he did this, he was able to relax his muscles and thus unclench his fists. He was now safe to be interacted with. As he saw a man and a boy coming into his cave, he had to control his body to repeat this process as long as they were there. The men looked upon Tristan and were amazed at what they were seeing.
The boy gasped. "What is that?" He asked.
"It's a dragon, son. Stay back." His father answered, putting his hand on his son's shoulder and pushing him back.
"It's beautiful." The boy said, without taking his eyes off the dragon, "I think he wants to play."
The boy took his father's hand out of his shoulder and ran towards the dragon.
"Get back here!" His father exclaimed, running after him.
By the time the father reached his son, the boy was already petting the dragon. The father fiercely pulled his son by his arm away from the dragon and rebuked him, saying, "Martin, don't ever disobey me! You could have been killed!"
"Just look at it, father." The boy said.
The father looked up at the dragon and was immediately captivated by its tameness and somehow couldn't control himself to stay back. The closer he got, the more he realized the dragon's eyes changed colour from a fiery gold to crystal blue. He was taken away by the dragon's hard, yet bright skin. He couldn't comprehend how something so stiff could be so colourful. He just had to touch it. As he did, he could tell the dragon not only refrained from attacking him, but liked it. He began stroking the dragon's arm. As he did, he felt something in his arm. When he looked at it to see what it was, he saw a massive scar that looked like it came from a blade.
Tristan wasn't happy that the humans saw one of his scars and as a result his muscles immediately tightened again. It was as if those scars could speak to his mind and tell him they were just men, and rhetorically asked him what accomplishment would it be to have a human marvel at his appearance. Men were nothing, compared to such a great dragon as Tristan. Having a man marvel at his soundness was thus not difficult to attain, and therefore it wasn't enough to diminish his insecurity. Frustrated at his failure to diminish it, Tristan took it out on those men by blowing fire at them until they ran away.
As they ran out of the cave, the father held his son's hand and said, "Run for your life Martin, or this monster will kill us!"
The word monster hurt Tristan. Little did those men know the story behind those scars. Ironically, letting anyone into the cave increased Tristan's insecurities more than diminish them.
As Tristan concluded recollecting this memory, he heard footsteps. However, these footsteps had a much slower pace than of those he was accustomed to hear. In fact, it sounded as if he heard a step and a drag. This sound was so unusual to Tristan, putting his guard down was easy because even his instincts took a rest to allow him to discover what it was that approached him.
The step-and-drag rhythm was consistent, but the volume was progressively louder. This was so new to Tristan he had absolutely no fear of letting this visitor in. Part of him asked, "Wouldn't it be safe to put your guard up a little? What if this visitor is stronger than humans? Or worse -- you?" Deep down Tristan knew he was putting himself in danger, but his curiosity was so great he didn't feel like he had to control himself as he used to whenever visitors came to his cave. As a matter of fact, it got to a point where he needed to start the fire in his throat and sharpen his claws himself should he decide to guard himself. Usually all of this happened naturally and automatically with the sound of one footstep. Never did he have to put in any effort to protect himself when reacting to visitors until that moment.
He didn't know if this was because his curiosity was greater than his survival instincts or if this visitor was a safe creature that could potentially be the one to fill that void he had been feeling. His hopes to fill his void were so high, he was convinced that this visitor was the one to fill it. For the first time ever, his body allowed him to let someone in, which was a great sign for him and sparked even more curiosity. "What is it about this visitor that allows my body to let him in?" He needed to know. He couldn't wait another second to see who it was, so he started moving towards the sound of its steps.
As John moved towards the end of the cave, he heard heavy steps coming his way. He noticed his breath quickened its pace and his whole body began to shake. He kept moving. Suddenly, he was able to identify his physiological reaction to the sound of the steps - fear. It couldn't be. He was a zombie, and as such he was incapable of feeling. However, he was experiencing an emotion called fear. For the first time ever, he was feeling something within him without having to eat anyone's heart or brain. He realized that the closer he got to the sound of the heavy steps, the more his body reacted to it. Despite the fact that running away should be the common reaction to fear, he kept moving.
The zombie and the dragon kept moving, not knowing what they were to encounter. There was something about what they heard and felt from each other, however, that kept them moving. Nothing, not even fear or old scars, stopped them from moving. Both of them just felt the urge to discover what they were about to encounter. The distance and the time from where they started moving to where they were heading felt like the longest journey ever taken.
To be continued...
No comments:
Post a Comment