Dragon's Eye, need comments

[Damiynn]

I am not really sure how far I am going to take this but it sort of fell into my head the other day and I seem to really like it, so we will see how far it goes.

The words had flashed in gold letters across the face of the redstone medallion. The Dragon’s eye, his father had called it years ago when he had been eighteen. But never in Miah’s memory of it had it ever acted the way it had today.

Sitting at the table alone, he also remembered some of the old stories his father had told him when he was twelve when he had first asked about it since he always wore it.

In their shoddy little trailer just outside of Chicago right he had told him that once, that they were men of the blood. That he was a man of the blood and that they were the protectors of a land called Illanor. That someday, it could happen that he could be called to fill that duty. None though have been called in several generations.

Miah remembered laughing at his father’s fanciful stories about the Dragonworld. He had also searched the atlas from top to bottom and couldn’t find a land or city called Illanor. A hard crease formed on his forehead as he stared at the medallion. He had laughed when he had been twelve. He was not laughing now. Years ago after swearing to always wear it when he had turned eighteen and after his father had died he had stopped wearing the thing. He couldn’t even remember actually the last time he had.

Now he was staring at it as if it were a viper that had tried to bite him. In a way, he thought it already had. Turning he looked at the box where he had found it, the left over remains of his divorce. Maryinn must have put it in there, he shook his head, she had never believed either. The box had been warm though, he could have sworn it had been so. And not wanting a fire in his new shabby efficiency, he had opened it.

In the bottom, he could remember that much now, he had seen the Dragon’s eye. It had been in there since his father had died. It had been glowing too. Spidery words of gold had flashed across the surface of the redstone. Not thinking, he had reached out to take it. The words, In service to all, had filled his head. Echoing through it as if came from everywhere around him. Images had came after. Images of teeth and armor A massive battle and flying high overhead had crashed into his head. Wind had filled his ears and he had felt the grip of a sword in his hand. The sensation of flying stole everything away, then it was gone. For a brief moment he remembered now, thinking back on it. It had seemed like he had done all of that he had been doing before.

Using a pencil he had picked up the medallion by its golden links and had placed it on the table. It wasn’t glowing now and no words were on the stone. To Miah’s eyes it looked just like it always had.

Turning around the room he looked out a small greasy window and saw snow. He was still in Chicago. Did I imagine it? Miah turned his thoughts inward and tried dredging up anymore of the memories that had filled his head or from his father about the medallion.

Nothing that mentioned it glowing came into his head. But he did have several memories about duty to ones people and about his great great grandfather. Every time the medallion had been passed on to its next wearer, he had died in service to all.


Tentatively, Miah reached out and flicked the stone medallion with the edge of his fingernail. Nothing happened, he reached out a little farther and flicked the actual stone and jerked his hand back as if it had been stung. Nothing had happened, he realized, adrenaline pumping through his veins. No pulse of warmth, no flickering letters, no sense of flying. The amulet lay on the table looking like it always had. Miah reached out with his fingertips and traced the top of the cold stone. Feeling nothing he settled his palm on it.

Looking at his hand resting on the old medallion, Miah decided he looked silly, and must have dozed off. He didn’t remember falling asleep, even though for a few moments his mind had seemed a little murky. In his head he saw the spidery like words of gold again and not thinking, palm still on the stone he mumbled the saying he had learned from his father who had learned it from his. In service to all.