Every Tale must have it's Villain

Dragunculus chimera:  The Undragon

I can hardly bring myself to describe this creature.  I had nightmares last night remembering those terrifying red eyes, the raspy voice, the black, coiling smoke that serves as its body.  A chimera dragon accosted me in the North Woods while I was on a field trip with T. P.  I was already in a strange frame of mind.  The air in the North Woods carries more than the scent of pine and leaf mould.  Old secrets and spells float in it.  Fragments of music leave you straining to hear more.  Was that a flute or only a creaking tree branch?  Snatches of verse startle you, the words painting pictures in your mind of black-haired men racing through the woods on pale horses and old women mumbling over kettles.  One minute you feel giddy, with wild laughter bubbling up in your throat; you snort and compress your lips trying to contain it because there's nothing funny at all.  The next minute darkness descends and your heart is breaking with loss and sorrow.  A sob escapes and the breeze cries with you - or is it only a bird calling?

But back to the Chimera.  T. P. and I were on our way to the royal House of Carrilon, one of the elven holdings, to see the beautiful fingold dragons the elves raise.  Two elf men were escorting us on horseback, one carrying me behind him and the other carrying T. P., with our pack pony following.  In the dim light of the forest I saw a black coil of smoke appear, and above it a ghastly head with glowing red eyes.  Those eyes stared directly at me, into me, and the air rushed out of my lungs.  My heart constricted, my muscles turned to lead.  Without thinking I threw myself off the horse and ran, crashing through the undergrowth, tearing my clothes.  The chimera gave chase, wailing and hissing and shrieking with unearthly laughter.  I ran until I could no longer breathe, then, sure I was dying, fell to the ground and fainted.  But the elves saved me, and I learned from them you must never run from a chimera.  It makes them grow stronger, and the fear of them drives you mad.  I'm stopping this letter here, because the memories are too strong.  But questions remain: why did the chimera come after me?  Will it happen again???? 



Dragunculus commonus, the common garden dragon of Minglemist

There's a common garden dragon living behind the cottage T. P. and I are staying in at 4 Sparrow Lane, Barleytown, Minglemist.  I have named the dragon Big Tim, after a boy I knew at the orphanage where I grew up (he had enormous teeth and a loud braying laugh).  When we first arrived at the cottage, Big Tim threw a fit, bellowing and snorting and crashing around the garden.  He doesn't like intruders.  But after I fed him several batches of burnt muffins (I've had trouble learning how to use the wood cook stove), we developed a wary truce.  He acts like a watch dog, bellowing whenever anyone comes near.  He stands about four feet tall and weighs approximately 600 pounds.  Weighing Big Tim was a problem, as you can imagine.  He's far too big to fit in T. P.'s bucket scale, so T. P. had to get his front end on one industrial sized scale and his back end on another, with the tail wrapped around and tied to his neck.  This whole process took a dose of sedative, several meaty bones and the help of six stout men.  The scales were rented and hauled in by horse and wagon from the Barleytown grain mill.  Big Tim is a handsome dragon, bright green with gold markings and large ears.  He eats almost anything, including rocks, and spends most of his time sunning on the compost pile.  Garden dragons lay clutches of eggs in the fall which hatch the next spring.

Rainbow Leaf Roller, the smallest dragon in Minglemist

The rainbow leaf roller is very tiny and looks more like an insect than a dragon, but T. P. insists it has all the characteristics of a proper dragon - egg-laying, fire-breathing and winged.

 

"Not to mention its DNA," he told me.  "The positioning of the deoxyribose is very telling."

 

"Whatever," I said, "but I still think it looks more like a bug."

 

The leaf rollers are nectar-loving dragons, so the honeysuckle hedge is always buzzing with them, and they often visit the big blue morning glories beside the front gate.  They do strange things with leaves - rolling them up and breathing out sticky fog to glue the edges together, then pushing them along the ground as if playing a game.  T. P. thinks it may be a part of a mating ritual.  Their coloring changes as they move; flushing green, blue, purple, gold or rose.  The only bad thing about them is they have wicked spines and you have to be careful where you sit.  I've been punctured in some very sensitive spots.  The city trolls in the troll towns of Minglemist sell leaf rollers in cages for good luck, but they soon die in captivity.  I haven't seen a troll yet, but a visit to a troll town is on my list of to-do's while in Minglemist.  The closest troll town is Sparflea, across the Felkie Valley where we're staying, on the other side of the Gwyndle River.  T. P. has forbidden me to go there, I guess because it's a wicked place.  But sooner or later I'll find an excuse to go.  I'm after information of a private sort.  But more of that later....

The Arrowhead Dragon, Dragunculus medusus

Dragunculus medusus is the most spectacular dragon in Minglemist.  Rather than try to describe it, I have rendered it in color so observers can get the full effect.  It's not large - the body is about 12 inches tall, 36 inches with wings.  Its length is 2 feet with another 2 feet in the tail.  Their streamers twist and curl when they are excited and they glow with golden light.  Their firey breath forms little balls of gas which pop and fizzle in the air around them.  Arrowheads are like fallen stars, I think, showering the earth with magic energy from far-off realms of light.

Some of the Lesser Dragons

Another letter has arrived from Minglemist!  It was dangling from a doogwood twig in my yard this morning.  A raven's feather attached to it caught my attention as it fluttered in the breeze, a shiny black beacon against the frosty dogwood leaves and berries.  With the letter were pictures of some of the lesser dragons, drawn, of course, by Madeline Brown, housekeeper-secretary-general assistant to the eccentric biologist, T. P. Dunlap.  One wonders, though, do these peculiar creatures really exist?  Madeline seems like a down-to-earth person, though she admits she likes to make up fanciful stories.  We can only read, and look, and speculate....

Here are sketches of three more of the dragon species T. P. has been studying.  The green bullnose looks something like a frog, but with a spiny tail and little wings.  The juveniles hatch in the water and wiggle around like tadpoles for a few weeks, then grow wings and flutter clumsily over the marshes, landing on the lily pads to lick nectar from the water lilies with their long tongues.  The wild cloudy is one of my favorite dragons.  They are very tame and tiny enough to perch on a finger.  The fire they breathe is a fine white mist that hangs in the air and sparkles in sunlight.  The third species is the dancing longtail, the only dragon in Minglemist to build nests of twigs and incubate its eggs like a bird does.

Now, on to other news:  The first time T. P. brought me to Minglemist, I saw a magnificent horse-sized dragon rushing through the woods with a rider - a young man, I think - crouched low between the wings.  I have to find him again.  He has something I need, I can feel it.  I want - I must! - ride a dragon too.  I want to be rushing off to an exciting adventure with the wind whipping through my hair and the thrill of danger tingling in my spine.  That beautiful, glittering dragon and its rider cast a spell on me, drawing me towards them like a moth to a flame.  I must find them.  I WILL have a grand adventure here in Minglemist.  I just know it!!

Grass Fleas of Minglemist

Yesterday another letter arrived from Minglemist.  This one was shoved under a corner of the doormat.  I'd like to see who delivers them, but haven't caught anyone in the act yet.  Here is the latest post in Madeline Brown's journal:

Hardly dragons, of course, but I have to add grass fleas to my journal of Minglemistian fauna.  About the size of an apricot, they're not much more than clumps of moss and leaves with stick legs.  You can't walk across a lawn or meadow in Minglemist without scaring up swarms of them.  They're extremely excitable and any sudden movement or loud noise raises a frenzy of giggles, chortles and squeaks as they go springing off in all directions, turning somersaults, bumping into each other, falling down, waving their legs in the air.  They act like drunkards, and I wonder if they've been sipping barnicane juice.  Barnicanes are small fruits that fizz and pop on the tongue and can be intoxicating if you eat too many.  An old man sells the juice at the Barleytown market, warning his customers to handle the jugs with care, else they can explode.  I've never observed grass fleas eating anything, though sometimes they have purplish stains around their mouths.  This supports my barnicane juice theory, but how they get ahold of it is anyone's guess.  T. P. says he bets they're eating fermented dewberries which are ripening now along the lane.  I've tried to communicate with them but it's hopeless.  I don't think they have much of a brain.  All I can get out of them is clicks, squeals and giggles.  They act like I'm the most hilarious creature they've ever seen, and pull my hair if I lie in the grass.

 

Yours truly,

Madeline Brown