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Hilltown 2
May. 2nd, 2004 03:16 pmIt wasn't that nobody knew what they were. Everyone knew exactly, deep in the soul, with a certainty that would brook no argument. But no two could agree.
They were a strangeness that lived in the land near Hilltown. It seemed they had been from the beginning, or perhaps even from before the beginning.
For example, when Burke and Wills arrived, they recorded in their journal that they met strange creatures with eyes like the fires of Hell, creatures of unspeakable horror who mocked them in their misery. But of course Burke and Wills were mad; everyone knew that. Mad to attempt their voyage so soon AC, in a time before there were enough spare resources on the Continent to properly equip them for it. Mad to plan it so poorly. Mad and more mad because of the unspeakable, completely unnecessary suffering they and their men suffered on the voyage due to that poor planning. Mad, hopelessly mad, because all their travails were made a mockery by what they found when they and their few survivors rounded Land's End in their last surviving boat, still believing they were the first humans ever to reach this place.
Burke and Wills were mad, and all sane humans ignored the warnings in their journals. And yet, as people came to Land's End and founded Hilltown, they reported again and again meeting something... other.
What were these things? Were they mere animals, or were they intelligent as humans were? Or more intelligeht? Did they serve good or evil? Or were they indifferent to such human concepts, serving only themselves? Were they, perhaps, angels, devils, both and neither, even as humans are?
What were they to be called? Most called them Dragons, although hardly any of the widely divergent descriptions mentioned the wings, mighty size, and fire-breath of the BC legend, the legend from distant Earth. They were known by a thousand other names; Sea Angels, Sand Devils, Old Ones, Wise Ones, Bright Ones, Dark Ones, or Hidden Ones. They were the Wavedancers, the Whisperers, the Muses, the Saviors, the Destroyers. They were the Sea People, the Dream Riders, or Jack Cray's Crew.
They lived in a swirl of beach sand in the wind. They walked in the mirage when the summer sun hammered down on the sands and addled your mind, when on the horizon land became water, water became sky, sky became land, another world floating upside down above this one; and things half-seen moved upon it. They lived in some indescribable place between universes, forced by some unknowable, horrible tragedy, thousands of years before the humans came, into a dreamworld half in space and time, and half outside of them. Or they lived in the bottom of a bottle, in the dark, horrible twistings of minds gone mad in winter's darkness and solitude, or in faith, hope, love, and the genius of creation.
They ate the sparkle of the waves, they lived on the honey scent of Everwhite blossoms, they sucked the blood of babies or consumed the souls of men. Or they could live on nothing at all.
They were lizard people with jeweled scales, or dragons, or mermaids-- not harmless mermaids, more like the mermaids sailors feared in the centuries where monsters lived at the edge of all maps; beautiful young men and women who would drive you mad with love and lust with their warm eyes and soft smiles, while all hidden, their slimy tentacles awaited you, and the fangs like a snakewolf's which would rend you as they dragged you down to drown. Some said they could take on any form they wished, anything at all. Or perhaps they had the form you yourself gave them; the way your heart, your hopes, or your fears saw them made them what they were.
Most believed they were nothing at all except the delusions of drink, fever, or heatstroke; yet these non-believers would see something in the corners of their eyes on the beach on a bright summer day, and quickly look in some other direction as ice clutched their hearts, out of pure terror that there might, after all, be something watching.
They came to destroy, to lead, to inspire, to teach, or to feed. They had been here a million years BC, or they were ghosts of the evil men who had drowned when the battleship of the last great pirate-king, Black Jack Cray, rolled over and sank into deep waters twelve miles southeast of Hilltown, victims of a land they had thought defenseless.
Their eyes were red with the fires of hell. Or they were blue, or catlike and golden, or they were faceted and, like prisms, sparkled in all the colors of the rainbow.
So there were no end of ideas-- no, of certainties-- as to what they were. Yet no two humans could agree about any of it.
Except for on two things:
Somewhere out there, in the waves, on the beach, or perhaps in the forests of the Isle of Olgraffa, lurked a dragon who knew you. He knew your hopes, your dreams, he knew the depths and heights of your soul, he knew your true name, the name you shared with nobody.
And when he found you and called your name, and you gazed for the first time into those horrible, wonderful eyes, you were changed. You were doomed forever. Nothing in the Universe could save you then.
They were a strangeness that lived in the land near Hilltown. It seemed they had been from the beginning, or perhaps even from before the beginning.
For example, when Burke and Wills arrived, they recorded in their journal that they met strange creatures with eyes like the fires of Hell, creatures of unspeakable horror who mocked them in their misery. But of course Burke and Wills were mad; everyone knew that. Mad to attempt their voyage so soon AC, in a time before there were enough spare resources on the Continent to properly equip them for it. Mad to plan it so poorly. Mad and more mad because of the unspeakable, completely unnecessary suffering they and their men suffered on the voyage due to that poor planning. Mad, hopelessly mad, because all their travails were made a mockery by what they found when they and their few survivors rounded Land's End in their last surviving boat, still believing they were the first humans ever to reach this place.
Burke and Wills were mad, and all sane humans ignored the warnings in their journals. And yet, as people came to Land's End and founded Hilltown, they reported again and again meeting something... other.
What were these things? Were they mere animals, or were they intelligent as humans were? Or more intelligeht? Did they serve good or evil? Or were they indifferent to such human concepts, serving only themselves? Were they, perhaps, angels, devils, both and neither, even as humans are?
What were they to be called? Most called them Dragons, although hardly any of the widely divergent descriptions mentioned the wings, mighty size, and fire-breath of the BC legend, the legend from distant Earth. They were known by a thousand other names; Sea Angels, Sand Devils, Old Ones, Wise Ones, Bright Ones, Dark Ones, or Hidden Ones. They were the Wavedancers, the Whisperers, the Muses, the Saviors, the Destroyers. They were the Sea People, the Dream Riders, or Jack Cray's Crew.
They lived in a swirl of beach sand in the wind. They walked in the mirage when the summer sun hammered down on the sands and addled your mind, when on the horizon land became water, water became sky, sky became land, another world floating upside down above this one; and things half-seen moved upon it. They lived in some indescribable place between universes, forced by some unknowable, horrible tragedy, thousands of years before the humans came, into a dreamworld half in space and time, and half outside of them. Or they lived in the bottom of a bottle, in the dark, horrible twistings of minds gone mad in winter's darkness and solitude, or in faith, hope, love, and the genius of creation.
They ate the sparkle of the waves, they lived on the honey scent of Everwhite blossoms, they sucked the blood of babies or consumed the souls of men. Or they could live on nothing at all.
They were lizard people with jeweled scales, or dragons, or mermaids-- not harmless mermaids, more like the mermaids sailors feared in the centuries where monsters lived at the edge of all maps; beautiful young men and women who would drive you mad with love and lust with their warm eyes and soft smiles, while all hidden, their slimy tentacles awaited you, and the fangs like a snakewolf's which would rend you as they dragged you down to drown. Some said they could take on any form they wished, anything at all. Or perhaps they had the form you yourself gave them; the way your heart, your hopes, or your fears saw them made them what they were.
Most believed they were nothing at all except the delusions of drink, fever, or heatstroke; yet these non-believers would see something in the corners of their eyes on the beach on a bright summer day, and quickly look in some other direction as ice clutched their hearts, out of pure terror that there might, after all, be something watching.
They came to destroy, to lead, to inspire, to teach, or to feed. They had been here a million years BC, or they were ghosts of the evil men who had drowned when the battleship of the last great pirate-king, Black Jack Cray, rolled over and sank into deep waters twelve miles southeast of Hilltown, victims of a land they had thought defenseless.
Their eyes were red with the fires of hell. Or they were blue, or catlike and golden, or they were faceted and, like prisms, sparkled in all the colors of the rainbow.
So there were no end of ideas-- no, of certainties-- as to what they were. Yet no two humans could agree about any of it.
Except for on two things:
Somewhere out there, in the waves, on the beach, or perhaps in the forests of the Isle of Olgraffa, lurked a dragon who knew you. He knew your hopes, your dreams, he knew the depths and heights of your soul, he knew your true name, the name you shared with nobody.
And when he found you and called your name, and you gazed for the first time into those horrible, wonderful eyes, you were changed. You were doomed forever. Nothing in the Universe could save you then.
