The young girl Arite: In the Dragon's Tower

"Is there no one to help me?" These words formed a prayer in the girl's mind. She did not dare to make a sound, for that would have meant that she had been given a stun potion. She didn't want to risk that, as she wanted to spend the last hours of her life fully conscious.

"Arite, my daughter, my child. I will be proud of you." Her mother had said these words and it was the last time they had spoken. Arite had sat in this chamber since sunrise, not tied, but bound. Outside the door, the men of the city took turns to stand guard, as they always did when a girl lived in the Dragon's Tower. It was an honour for the sons of the rich and noble to stand outside the magnificently appointed chamber and watch over the girl.

Arite knew many of the young men, as her father kept the house open to everyone. He was one of the wealthiest merchants in the city, which ultimately proved to be her undoing. The city was bathed in a kind of golden glow, such was the opulence of life here. The most powerful guilds were those that traded in gold, for the surrounding mines provided the wealth. Gold flowed so easily here that, unlike elsewhere in the Empire, the tunnels were manned by paid workers, not convicted criminals or serfs.

Arite was proud that the miners had a place in the community and were not mistreated to the point of death. Elsewhere, in the copper mines to the north or in the neighbouring realms, this was very much the case. Life was simple here, and the peasants were as prosperous as the townsfolk. No war had ever ravaged the land. Enemies had never succeeded in conquering and plundering the city or its environs. The trade routes were safe and banditry was very limited. "Happy City", they said, carrying the fame of its golden glow around the world.

But it was not luck that protected the people and their possessions so wonderfully – it was something else. Even the children knew the story of the dragon in the golden mountains, who demanded a sacrifice every hundred years. And not everyone believed it was more than just a story. But at the very end of this period, the city's hood of luck seemed to weaken – a reminder of an ancient pact. The priests chose the brightest and most beautiful daughters of the richest and most respected families in the city. Then the bones were taken from the temple. Exactly fifty of them. They were said to have come from the bones of a dragon long ago.

Each of the tiny bones had a symbol carved into it – except for one. And the one without a symbol was chosen. Arite had entered the cauldron, proud and outwardly unmoved, and had drawn a bone, shown it to the Master of Ceremonies with stoic calm, and received his homage. Then she was led away to this chamber. Her parents were given only a brief moment to say goodbye. Her every wish was granted, her every whim instantly gratified.

An old healer, so old that she had to lean on a stick, had offered Arite a potion: "This drink will guide your soul to other paths as your feet walk the mountain road, child." But Arite had refused. It was as if a thin membrane had separated her mind from reality – as if she was about to lose herself. And she wanted to focus her thoughts on her life, on the people and things that had defined it until now. For she could no longer reach anyone. By the time she reached the path, she would be surrounded by strangers. Deafness would make her too distant, and time had become so precious.

Arite didn't waste a single thought on escape, because it was impossible. She only allowed her thoughts to beg for help. She didn't even know where to turn. She just asked. And around noon, when her tortured mind was on the verge of despair, she felt a change. It was as if she had taken one of those anaesthetic potions, but without the drowsiness or the apathy. A strange feeling came over her, as if a reassuring hand had been placed over her heart. Arite knew that this feeling came from without, not from within. Had the gods finally answered her prayers? But it was a kind of humming, like a big bee buzzing around her ears. And it calmed her immensely. It didn't take away the fear, but it made it less painful.

When the sun had moved around the tower and the room grew dark, she was brought food and a night robe, extremely precious even by her standards. Again, she refused the offer of a sleeping draught, for something told her that she would not lie awake. And so it was: as soon as Arite lay down on the pillows, she fell asleep.

The dragon of the Golden City (Part Two)

It must have been just before dawn when Arite woke up. She was given a bath prepared by singing maidens, a breakfast she didn't touch, and then her robe. It was floor-length, made of plain, unbleached linen. Over it was a cloak of wool, light but warm. Her hair, she was told, should remain open and she should remove her jewellery. She did as she was told, quietly, without saying a word. She had woken from a dreamless sleep, but that buzzing had been there. It comforted her, gave her the strength to keep her composure, and she was grateful. Then she was blindfolded and taken to a litter. She was not allowed to remove the bandage until she was inside, and she liked that.

Arite had said goodbye to her world and had no wish to see it again. Leaning back against the cushions, she rested in the rocking palanquin, its sides curtained, eyes closed, listening to the soothing sound. It grew louder as they approached the mountains, and Arite knew that something was waiting up there to save her. The sun was at its zenith when the porters set down the litter. Arite was told to get out and walk, as the path was getting too steep.

Flanked by two priests, she made her way up the winding, rocky mountain path. The two stout old men were clearly struggling to make the climb, and Arite thought they would not be able to stop her from escaping. But escape was not on Arite's mind, for she was no longer afraid. She trusted the warm feeling that was growing inside her and pulling her up the mountain with all her might.

Suddenly the priests stopped, drenched in sweat and out of breath. "You must go on alone now, the law demands it", they said. 'The law, or your miserable fear?', thought the girl. But she said nothing; she had no intention of uttering the word to a human again. They pointed to the rock face up which the ever-narrowing path wound. At the top, far above, there was a hole in the mountain. It must be the entrance to a huge cave, if it could be seen from here.

Without daring to look at the two priests, Arite climbed up, her eyes fixed on the dark spot high above. The buzzing in her head had not increased, but Arite felt as if she could hear words. Or rather feel them. Completely free of fear and despair, she made her way up the steep path, putting one foot in front of the other and stopping only a few times to catch her breath. She was being pulled up with all her strength. She wanted to go where that feeling came from, that comfort.

Then the world was bathed in shadow as the entrance to the cave towered above her. As large as she had imagined. And from there came the power that had been within her, that had drawn her here with such force. She stepped cautiously into the darkness, walking carefully until her eyes had adjusted and she could see a little of the cave. It was high, probably higher than the temple in the city below, and warm. And there was a smell in the air, like before a thunderstorm, when your hair stood on end and sparks flew when you touched metal. Arite walked deeper into the cave, unerringly, and only then did she realise that she was following a voice that was guiding her.

She understood the humming now, and it didn't surprise her. She came into a huge room, big enough to hold all the inhabitants of the city, and it was not completely dark, for the light of the setting sun shone through openings in the rock. In the centre was a flat rock upon which it lay, the source of the voice in Arite's mind. Without hesitation, she approached it until she looked into the beautiful creature's eyes.

The dragon of the Golden City was a magnificent creature, its strong yet slender body covered in pale scales and many lengths long. Its head alone was the size of a horse's, and its eyes were like wells. "You have come, child. You have come to fulfil the pact. I greet you!"

Arite heard and felt these words inside her. A fleeting thought, images of her parents and others, then she lost herself in those eyes. The dragon showed her things that had been: a young woman who had drawn the lot came up the mountain and stood before the dragon. Many, many centuries passed, and again and again a girl came up the mountain. And she would not die, but live another hundred years. "I am tired now, child. It is time."

And Arite understood, she realised what her destiny was and she accepted it. She approached the giant lizard, very close, and placed her hands on a spot between its eyes. Then she entered the dragon's mind, saw and felt, tasted and smelled. She felt the loving farewell and was sad and yet happy.

Then the soul of the dragon was gone, like a warm breeze in the sun. Arite sat up and looked around the cave. It was much smaller than before, and strangely, she could see most of the room without moving her head. She craned her neck to admire the shiny golden scales, then stretched out her limbs.

Her body lay between her huge paws, tiny and lifeless. Arite spread her wings as wide as she could in that small space, just to feel it. She would carry this little shell out and take it to the mountains, somewhere where no one would find it. Then it would be time to do her job: guard the Golden City. A hundred years was a long time to feel the glorious wind beneath her wings.

© "The young girl Arite: In the Dragon's Tower. A fantasy story in two parts". Story and illustration by Izabel Comati, 01/2011.