Kaydran
777 RC, Dragon moon 2nd Ttriface; Refugee camp, outside the city of Mehrad, Southeastern Kavah.
He sat up and looked at himself. Kaydran thought he was dead, a ghost or wraith. His skin was grayish white. Had the explosion claimed him as well? How then could his eyes burn so much, and his body ache as it did? He touched his finger to his aching mouth and tasted bitter ash, he grimaced at his own foolishness. Ghost didn’t feel anything, especially not this terrible thirst. He brushed himself off, trying as best he could to get the volcanic ash out of his hair. He stood looking around, everything was flattened as far as he could see. Ash still filtered down from the sky like dirty snow. It lay on everything in sight, a coating inches thick, it must have been falling for days. As he struggled to make sense of what he was seeing, Kaydran walked around the rubble of what had been his bedroom he shared with his brothers Santo, and Lanz. A sick lurch made him drop to his knees when he saw the crooked arm reaching into the sky from beneath a pile of broken rafters.
Kaydran woke with a jerk from the vivid nightmare, his piercing blue eyes bloodshot from yet another sleepless night. In his dreams the Volcano erupted again and again, earthquakes destroying everything left standing to forever take his family from him. So long ago now, but still it haunted his dreams. He groaned as he climbed off the worn pallet that was his for the night. Just one of many in the large tent set aside for children his age. On silent feet he padded out of the tent waving to muffled morning greetings from a few of the other early risers. At the entrance to the tent he studied the sprawling camp that contained what was left of his people.
Thousands of tents dotted the slight depression of the valley they had been marched into. The countryside within a mile of the camp was stripped bare of all edible plant life. He sighed as he made his way towards the water pump. They had started rationing again, which of course meant the ruler of Kavah would undoubtedly politely march them out of his borders within a few weeks. Kaydran greeted everyone he saw by name as he made his way through the camp. He was good with names, never forgetting a face once he was introduced. He stopped off at one of the guard posts that were set up evenly around the camp, for their protection of course.
“Morning Arman, bring anything good today?” Kaydran asked sidling up to the towering guard. Arman grinned down at him and handed him a rough cloth sack. Kaydran peeked inside, careful to keep it out of sight of anyone walking past. A dozen black truffles released their unmistakable earthy scent into the air.
“Only the best.” Arman said gruffly. “What about you?” Kaydran glanced around carefully and handed over a large flask. It contained the pungent liquor called Lona, his island had been famous for it, and a few of the old timers in camp still knew the exact recipe. Arman was partial to the now very rare drink. He also raised pigs and had trained several to sniff out truffles, the hard to find fungi could only be found among the roots of oak trees. Kaydran had wheedled the technique out of him over the last few weeks, only after he had a few drinks during his shift. He had also convinced him to trade a piglet from his best sow when she gave birth later that week for three pitchers of Lona. Arman had only agreed because he knew they were going to be moving camp and his chances of getting anymore after they left, where slim, plus the stuff would be worth its weight in gold if he managed not drink it all for a few months.
Kaydran set off for his next stop, the small market that the cooks used to trade for whatever they could for spices and fruits to vary the bland food they had to prepare for thousands each day. He traded ten of the truffles for a sack of 20 blood oranges, and a dozen fresh jasmine flowers, the two hardest ingredients to get for the Lona. Careful not to be followed, he made his way to Eunice’s tent which was set in a small hollow. She was the only one brewing Lona who was too old to get around and deliver it. The steam from her still was just starting to waft out of the tent as he lugged his prizes into her camp.
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“Finally! I’ve been waiting three days to brew this last batch.” Eunice said without preamble, she snatched the crate out of Kaydran’s hands and went to work with the ease of decades of practice. Kaydran smiled and left her to her work. She ignored him now that she had her work to occupy her. Kaydran made his way to the small market behind the army command tents, once there he traded his last two truffles for a roll of clean bandages, some ointment, and a handful of copper thorns, the smallest denomination of coin used on the mainland. Whistling happily at his success, Kaydran dropped the bandages and ointment off at the tents for the youngest children, toddlers and infants too small to care for themselves yet. He shrugged off the profuse thanks of Calibre, the head caretaker, embarrassed when his cheeks burned red. He fled dodging her offer for lunch. A wonderful mother hen, but a terrible cook, Kaydran was glad of any excuse to dodge Calibres’ cooking. Hurriedly he took his remaining coins and divided them in half. Half he gave out to the oldest and most needy members of the camp. The last half he slipped into his secret hiding spot.
“Kaydran!” an excited shout brought him to his feet, one of the boys his age, Tylar, was running up the small hill he had been sitting on. “Did you hear? They say there’s been a Dragon rider spotted to the north of here!” Tylar gasped out panting. He thrust a small bundle into Kaydran’s hands before dashing off again he yelled back at Kaydran, who stood bemused at his excited antics. “That’s from my mom, a thank you for showing the army supplier her sewing. She’s got the contract now for all the uniforms of the brigade!” Kaydran waved as Tylar ran off shouting the news of a Dragon Rider. Wistfully Kaydran scanned the skies as he opened the bundle and ate the large lunch Tylar’s mom, Katrina, had provided for him.
That night as he sat behind the tent used by the elders for their weekly meeting, Kaydran listened intently to their talk about which families needed help most, who had been injured and was unable to work, when the camp might have to begin packing up. Kaydran committed all he heard to memory so he could subtly help where he could without anyone noticing the interference of a child. As they wrapped up their meeting Kaydran slid away unnoticed by anyone leaving the tent. He made his way through the camp stopping to talk with people he knew, until he found someone that knew of Carmen and he children, her husband had been injured working with the carts that carried trash from the camp and was out of work with a broken leg and cracked ribs. He got directions to where they had pitched a family tent. Casually Kaydran strolled by peeking inside from the corner of his eyes. Melody carried a small boy on her hip as she bathed the feverish brow of her injured husband, her daughter slept on a pallet set against the back of the tent. Kaydran hurried past as soon as he was out of the light made by the single oil lamp burning in their tent. He made his way to his secret hiding place at the edge of the camp. He timed his advance carefully so that the guards patrolling with their torches. He snuck quickly through the night until he reached the large bolder overlooking the camp. There was a petrified tree propping it up at an angle, Kaydran wiggled as far back into the small opening as he could. There he dug up his secret stash of coins. He emptied the small pouch out into his hands counting up the Thorns, and few Talons he had saved up there. Weighing the need against what might pop up, against what was needed tonight he put all of the coins back into the pouch and hung it off his neck, hidden from view under his shirt. He crept on careful not to be seen back to Melody’s tent. He settled into wait for her to go to sleep. He stared up at the uncaring moon over head wondering what wonders could be seen from that high above the land. He didn’t have long to wait after less than an hour melody blow out their one lamp and climbed carefully into bed beside her husband. He waited until after the baby stopped fussing then crept forward as quietly as he could wishing his ankles didn’t snap like breaking twigs when he bent too far forward. He froze as he lifted the edge of the tent flap carefully like a thief in the night he ghosted forward thankful for the layer of dirt he had acquired that day. His soiled clothes helped him to blend in to the shadows. Gently he lay took off the full pouch of coins, it contained 3 silver Talons and over a hundred copper Thorns it clinked gently and Kaydran hurriedly slipped it into Melody’s loosely curled hand. A small sound from the baby cradled in her hand startled him and he dashed out from the tent headless of the noise. He jumped behind a pile of discarded baskets checking back the way he had come, he saw Melody come out into the dark looking all around. She held the coins to her chest as she looked around bewildered before ducking back into the tent she woke her family excitedly. Smile Kaydran made his way back to his own pallet grateful that he had been able to help where it mattered most. He fell into an exhausted sleep without changing.