The Black Collar: Chapter Three

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Chapter Three

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Pain returned, stirring the dragon back to consciousness. He gasped, his black-horned head jerking up off the grassy ground. For a moment he could not recall where he was, or why he hurt so badly. Humans were all around him, pressing things against his body. The more they pressed on his belly, the worse he hurt.

Alvaranox screamed.

“He’s waking up!”

“Never mind that! Hold that bandage tight, I say!”

The dragon’s vision swam. He tried to focus on the people around him but found it impossible. He lifted a fore leg and saw blood caking it. Confusion and panic rolled through him. They were murdering him. The dragon tried to swipe at the one pushing upon his belly, yet he simply lacked the strength. His front leg dropped back to the ground, limp. Then more pain surged through his belly. He coughed, spat blood, and blessed unconsciousness wreathed him once again.


When he awoke again with another scream, there were twice as many humans around him as before. The pain made him thrash, fear made him fight. Slipping in and out of consciousness made it impossible for the dragon to register what was really happening. Instincts told him to fight against those who caused him pain. He tried to twist away from them, tried to lash out with claws and teeth yet found himself too weak to do anything more than shove a human aside here and there.

“Hold him down!”

“How the hell am I going to do that, he’s a dragon!”

“Where the hell is Nylah!”

“She’s coming, she’s coming!”

“He’s bleeding again, press more salve in that wound!”

Nylah. The name was familiar.

Nylah. The name brought him a measure of focus.

Alvaranox struggled to lift his horned head from the ground. Blood caked his face and muzzle, bits of sod clung to his horns where they’d embedded themselves in the grass during his agonized writhing. His vision swam, copper eyes unable to properly focus on anything. A human woman stood at his side, just beyond his crumpled wing. She was jabbing her hands in the air as though striking down unseen foes, yelling orders at the motley assortment of men and woman who had come to try and save the dragon’s life. Through his hazy vision, the woman seemed wreathed in roiling flames.

Someone had lit the poor woman’s head on fire.

Alvaranox wondered for a moment if he’d inadvertently flamed the woman while she was pressing on his wounded belly. For a person who was on fire, she seemed to be taking it remarkably well. She must have been yelling orders to at least four or five men all at once. One of them was rolling out charts upon the ground, another pulling herbs from a basket, and two more smearing some kind of salve upon a set of bandages.

“Nylah,” the dragon croaked, swallowing the blood in his throat as he tried to concentrate. Only Nylah yelled at people like that.

The woman turned towards him. No, it wasn’t Nylah. Nylah didn’t have flames shooting from her head. Come to think of it, neither did this woman. She just had plenty of curly red hair cascading from her skull. The red haired woman quickly moved to the dragon and snatched up his broad, wedge-shaped best she could. Her brilliant green eyes caught fire in the sunlight as they bored into Alvaranox’s own copper gaze.

“Alv!” The woman yelled as though it were the dragon’s ears filled with blood and not his belly. “Alv, stay awake!”

Kirra. Yes. Kirra had red hair. His newest Handler. She always had been a pain in his scaly ass. “No,” Alvaranox murmured, closing his eyes a moment. “Sleep.”

“No, Alv!” Kirra hissed. “Stay with me! You cannot sleep right now, you hear me? You cannot sleep!”

Alvaranox would have none of it. He began to lean his head back against the grass again. He took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. The pain was beginning to fade again. Yes, sleep. Sleep brought relief from the pain. Kirra could yell at him later, when he felt better. Sleep.

“No, Alv,” Kirra said, fear rising in her voice. “Damn it, stay awake! You!” Kirra scowled, her gut twisting. She didn’t want to do this to the dragon, but she had no choice. “You! Squeeze his paw.”

“But…”

“Do it now! Make him scream!” Kirra shouted her orders at the man, her eyes flashing. “We have to keep him awake, if he drifts too deeply now I fear we will never rouse him. It’s a miracle his heart hasn’t given out already.”

Somewhere in his drifting mind, Alvaranox heard something about having his paw squeezed. For a moment, he had no idea how that was to keep him awake. Then someone dug fingers into the rent meat of his paw pad, and brilliant, sharp pain rocketed up his foreleg. Alvaranox roared awake, tears of pain shining in his coppery eyes as he jerked his head up and out of Kirra’s grasp, pulling his paw away from the torturous fingers.

“I’m sorry, Alv,” Kirra cried out, her voice twisting as though she were the one in pain. She grabbed the dragon’s sensitive frilled ear. “But you cannot sleep right now, do you hear me? I’d rather hurt you and save your life than let you flee the pain and see you die.”

Alvaranox took a shuddering breath, his paw and belly throbbing in torturous syncopation. “Kirra,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “Where is…Nylah?”

“She’s coming,” Kirra said, though the dragon feared it may be more hollow reassurance than anything else. If Kirra was hurt the dragon was calling for his previous Handler in his darkest moment, she did not let it show. “Alv, listen to me. You cannot sleep. If you sleep, you will die. Do you understand? You will die!”

Die. He did not want to die. Kirra’s words found his barely-beating heart, and squeezed it with cold fingers.

“Don’t…Don’t let me die, Kirra,” the dragon said, his voice trembling with fear and pain. Later, he would be humiliated to recall his plea. But in that moment he was simply afraid, as any other creature would be. It wasn’t simply that he feared death. More than that, Alvaranox did not want to die like this, in this place. Not in his prison, like Stupid Fish. “Please, Kirra! Don’t…don’t let me die. Not here. Not in this barrel.”

“He’s delusional,” Kirra called out to her assistants. Then she turned her attention back to the dragon. She worked her hands around him to hold his head, stroking his muzzle. Sticky, half-dried dragon blood coated her fingers. “I won’t, Alv, I promise. I won’t let you die, alright? But you’ve got to stay with me for a few minutes, whatever it takes. Alright? Can you do that for me?”

Alvanorax nodded slowly. Even that simply action seemed to take all his strength. He had to try and focus. He tilted his head, looking over at Kirra. For the first time he realized the woman wore little more than a dark green nightdress swishing around her body. She must have sprinted here straight out of her bed. Her dress was already caked in dragon blood, and her arms were both smeared with the stuff as well. Kirra was probably the first here to try and staunch the bleeding.

“Alv, can you hear me?” Kirra asked, her tone forceful enough to draw his attention.

Alvaranox managed another little nod.

“Do you know where your liver is?”

The question caught Alvaranox off guard. If he’d been in a better state of mind the question would have worried him. The humans didn’t know what parts of him were injured any more than he did, and they were hoping the dragon knew his own anatomy well enough to offer them some assistance. But Alvaranox was practically drifting above his own body now, and the question brought a wheezing laugh from him.

Alvaranox tasted fresh blood splatter his tongue as he laughed, and yet he managed a grin. Kirra grimaced at the sight of the dragon’s fangs and teeth tinted so scarlet. “In a barrel,” the dragon murmured.

“What?” Kirra didn’t realize he was joking at first.

“My liver,” the dragon said with another wheeze of amusement. “I put it in a barrel. It keeps Stupid Fish company.”

“He’s not going to be able to help us,” Kirra called out to the others. “He’s barely even conscious.” She gently stroked the dragon’s throat, trying to keep him calm. “That’s alright, Alv. You just stay awake for me, okay?”

Alvaranox gave a loud groan as he felt someone clambering onto his body. He lifted his head just enough to see that a human man had settled against the area below his ribs. “If he’s anything like a horse, his liver would be here…” The man traced a line across the dragon’s underbelly with his finger. Then he began to crawl about, pointing out different places. “His kidneys about here, and here…His stomach here. And…his bowels probably start around this area…”

“But that’s all speculation,” Kirra called out. “If his liver’s been run through, I don’t think he’d have made it home, so we focus on stopping the bleeding and trying to close him up.”

“But if its his kidney, by tomorrow he could…”

“If we don’t stop the damn bleeding now, by tomorrow we won’t have a dragon to worry about anymore!” The strong, sharp tone of Kirra’s voice cut off any argument. “Right now that is the first and only priority! Is that understood?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” replied a chorus of voices.

“When did you get so damn bossy,” Alvaranox muttered, his voice slurred. He’d never actually heard Kirra take charge like that before. Usually she was a little more subdued, deferring to Nylah. She was often quiet around the dragon, rarely pushing back against his insults or his attempts to boss her around. Some days she simply sat nearby, writing or sketching in some book while the dragon did his best to ignore her. Nylah worked to get him to trust the woman, and to get Kirra to take charge more when Nylah wasn’t around. Until now Alvaranox hadn’t seen much evidence that it was working.

“When you got stabbed in the belly,” Kirra snapped right back at him.

That made Alvaranox grin just a little despite the pain. Sounded like something Nylah would say. Weakly, he licked his nose, and cocked his head a little to regard her with as much focus as he could grasp. “I’m going to die, aren’t I Kirra.”

Kirra’s face twisted in a pained scowl that provided more answer than her words. “…No.”

“You’re lying,” the dragon said, his heart sinking.

“I don’t know, alright?” Kirra’s voice rose, heated. “It’s bad, Alv, it’s very, very bad. But I am doing everything I can to save your life, I promise you that. We’re trying as hard as we can…”

While he had the focus, Alvaranox lifted his head again, swinging it around. There were dozens of humans all over the place. Someone had dragged over benches and tables, covered them with reams of gauze and rolls of bandages. Other tables held basket upon basket of herbs and medicines. A whole line of people were mashing and mixing things with mortar and pestle and smearing the contents on trays which were hustled over to the dragon. Every time someone pressed against the dragon’s belly, they were working in more herbal salves made to staunch the flow of blood. When the salves were smeared into the wound, clean bandages were held against it. When those were red and soaked they were removed and the process began again.

“So it seems,” Alvaranox said, resting his head against Kirra. Her warmth was oddly comforting. “Is it working?”

“We’ve slowed the bleeding, but we haven’t stopped it yet,” Kirra admitted, cradling the dragon’s heavy head. “You’ve more blood in you than I’d have guessed, and its not spurting from you so there were no truly major arteries severed. But it continues to ooze and run and we fear something vital to you has been cut deeper than we can reach to sew it shut.”

“Mmrrhmm,” the dragon murmured, trying to keep his eyes open. Things were going out of focus again. “You’re awfully bloody, Kirra.”

The odd, off-hand remark brought a nervous smile to Kirra’s face. “That’s your fault, Dragon. I was pressing bandages on your wounds while I waited for everyone else to make it here.”

“Kirra!” Someone called out, running up behind the red-haired woman. “Nylah has just arrived.”

“Oh, thank the Gods,” Kirra said. Kirra gave the dragon’s head a squeeze. “I’ll bring her over, alright? Do not sleep!” Kirra rose to her feet, grabbing the man’s shoulder a moment. “Do not let the dragon sleep! If he begins to drift off, snatch up his ear and twist it as sharply as you can till he wakes.”

“I shall bite his hand off if he does,” Alvaranox said, though the fatigue in the dragon’s voice said otherwise.

“Do it anyway,” Kirra hissed through her teeth to the man before she darted off. “Nylah! Nylah, over here!”

Alvaranox cried out in sudden pain as someone pressed a fresh bandage to his belly. At least the waves of pain that came when they pushed upon his wound seemed to arrive with less frequency. That was good, right? Didn’t that mean it was taking longer for the bandages to become soaked with blood? Surely that meant his bleeding was nearly stopped. Either that, or he was out of blood.

Seeking to distract himself from the pain, Alvaranox twisted his head around. One of his horns caught in the grass, tearing a little rut through the sod. Though it left his neck bent at an awkward angle, the position did allow him a clear view of Kirra as she ran towards Nylah’s horse. Nylah did not often ride a horse any more, but she did have a dappled chestnut mare she took around the town now and then. Much like Kirra it was clear Nylah hadn’t bothered to change out of her cream-colored nightgown when she heard the news about the dragon. Given the way she was ordering a group of people to strip all the saddle bags from her horse it seemed likely her own delay was due to stopping by the Handler’s Sanctuary she had set up years ago. It was where she kept all her notes about the dragon’s health and anatomy and all her various herbal concoctions she’d created especially for him over the years.

As the men began to ferry her supplies towards the group working feverishly on the dragon, Kirra ran right up to Nylah. Nylah tried to push past her towards the dragon, but Kirra snatched the older woman by the shoulders. Alvaranox couldn’t hear their conversation, but for some reason it seemed Kirra wanted to talk to her before letting her get too close to the dragon. The complexities of human relationships sometimes eluded him, but it seemed she was trying to prepare Nylah for the worst. Why, he didn’t know. If they were dragons they’d simply come right out with the truth. He was dying, so say goodbye.

Perhaps Kirra said just that. Her words struck Nylah like a physical blow. The older woman doubled over a moment, pressing a hand to her mouth as if to hold a horrified scream inside. Kirra moved to support her as Nylah’s knees buckled, and soon the older woman was leaning against the younger. Nylah’s shoulders shook.

Nylah was sobbing.

Alvaranox realized then just how deeply Nylah had come to care for him. Nylah had known the dragon nearly all her life, and for all those years she had sought to make his lonely existence just little more pleasant. Though she had never truly put it to words, Alvaranox understood then that Nylah thought of the dragon as her greatest friend. And she had just been told that her friend was dying.

Tears brimmed in the dragon’s eyes as he saw Nylah sag to her knees, her face pressed to Kirra’s shoulder. Alvaranox did not want to die. He did not want to leave Nylah here, without him. It was a strange realization for him to have, yet he knew it was the truth. For a while now, he had feared what life would be like for him when Nylah was gone. Yet this was the first time Alvaranox had even considered what life might be like for Nylah without him there. Bittersweet as it often was, their friendship was true and the dragon was as important a part of Nylah’s life as she was of his.

“Nylah,” the dragon wheezed. He tried to call out to her, but could not find enough strength to make his voice heard. “Nylah!” He tried again, but her name slipped from his tongue as a trembling plea rather than a demanding roar.

“Lady Nylah!” The man who’d stood by to ensure the dragon remained awake offered his voice in the dragon’s stead. “Lady Nylah, he’s calling for you!”

Nylah’s head jerked up from Kirra’s shoulder. She pointed towards the dragon, and Kirra nodded. With a supporting arm draped around Nylah’s body, Kirra rushed the former handler over to the dragon’s side. The man moved out of the way, and Nylah eased down onto her knees alongside Alvaranox’s head. Tears still ran from Nylah’s burnished brown eyes, glinting like jewels of sorrow in the morning sunlight.

“Gods, Alv,” Nylah whimpered, moving to hug the dragon’s head tightly against her body. “I told you to be safe, and this is how you thank me?”

Alvaranox laughed despite the pain it brought him. “You know I never do what you tell me.”

“I know,” Nylah said, her voice a trembling whisper. Hot tears dripped to the dragon’s muzzle, washing lines through the dried blood. “I’d tell you to live through this but I’m terrified you’d defy me in that, too.”

Kirra meanwhile, dashed to the table where all of Nylah’s notes and journals were being assembled and unrolled. “Nylah! Which journal has the herbal notes you were telling me about the other day?”

Nylah blinked and lifted her head. For a moment, she seemed irritated to have been interrupted. Then her eyes brightened and she sucked in a breath. “The blue one! The two roses on the cover. What have you been giving him?”

Kirra quickly shuffled through the journals until she found the one trimmed in blue leather. Twin roses were embossed upon the front of it. “Everything I know to stop the bleeding and ease his pain. Threeblade, Whiteroot, ground Sage Blossom…” She thumbed through the pages swiftly, her lips moving as she read to herself. “But I just remembered…”

“Forget easing the pain,” Nylah called out. She would have jumped to her feet were she not so intent on cradling the dragon’s head against her body. “Sage Blossom inhibits the ability of Whiteroot to promote the clotting of blood! Take it out of the mixture, and replace it with as much Black Arrowbloom as you can get, right now!”

“Of course,” Kirra said, reaching the page she’d sought. “I’d totally discounted it because of the fevers and other sicknesses it can cause, but its worth the risk because it…”

“…Demonstrates a remarkable ability to staunch the flow of blood from the dragon’s wounds,” Nylah finished for her.

“Yes!” Kirra beamed, waving to the table with the baskets of herbs. “The Black Arrowbloom. Now! As much as you can pulverize. And for the love of the Gods, don’t any of you get it in your mouth.”

Alvaranox gave a whimper, trying to follow the conversation. He did not like the sound of that. “Arrow…bloom? Is that not…a poison?”

“It causes fevers and sickness, and it causes the blood to clot unnaturally fast. Especially your blood.” Nylah glanced down at the dragon. For the moment her fearful sorrow had been replaced with hope and determination. “I wouldn’t normally do this but we are out of options, Alv. I even have it listed right in my notes…”

“For emergency use only,” the two woman said at the same time.

“This qualifies.” Nylah settled back upon her knees alongside the dragon’s head. “But its your decision to make, Alv. Yes, it is a poison, but I believe it is a poison with a chance to save your life. You are a creature of strength, stronger even than I had ever realized. But even a dragon has his limits, and there is so much blood all around you…” Nylah’s voice trembled, and she fought to keep speaking. “I…I do not want to lose you, Alv.” She reached out, cupping the dragon’s green scaled cheek, stroking it a little. “But this is a chance we are taking. It is possible this may expedite your end rather than stave it off. I feel if we do nothing now, you will not see the sunset. If we try this, at least I believe it gives you a good chance to pull through. But it will hurt. A lot. And as I said…”

Nylah trailed off, her hazel eyes drifting towards the ground. Alvaranox sighed. She did not need to repeat herself. “Go on then. Do what you must, you old hag.”

A smile cracked through the pained veneer of the old lady’s face. Her fingers shook as they traced little circles around the pebbly scales of the dragon’s muzzle. “If you die on me I shall quite cross with you.”

Pain and fear strained the dragons voice yet he sought to present a brave facade. “I should think you’d be more cross with the man who stabbed me.”

Nylah’s smile grew just a little more. She lifted her eyes to glance at Kirra, giving her a silent nod that she had the dragon’s permission. Then she looked around at a few of the other man standing nearby. “Fix up as much antidote for the Arrowbloom’s sickness as you can. And mix it with just as much Redbark. It’ll help keep the fevers under control, and if the Gods are willing, it will also help his body start to produce more blood.”

“I hate Redbark,” the dragon muttered. He’d been made to eat the bitter stuff before after lesser injuries and illnesses.

“That’s a shame, because you’re going to be eating it three times a day for the foreseeable future,” Nylah smiled at him a little, her lightly boney fingers tenderly rubbing the golden blotch at the end of his nose. She cleared away as much dried blood as she could to trace the shape of the golden marking. “Consider it penance for ruining my roses.”

The dragon liked her optimism. It was as though she was already sure he’d survive. Nylah had always been optimistic. A good balance for the pessimism and bitterness the dragon himself often tried to stave off. Perhaps that was one of the reasons he’d come to trust her. She balanced him out. She always looked for a way to make things better for him or a chance to give him something to feel thankful for.

Kirra soon came forward carrying an old wooden bucket by its rickety handle. Discolored water sloshed out of it. Even with the scent of his own blood sticking to his nostrils the dragon noticed the water’s foul, bitter aroma. When Kirra set the bucket down near his head, he gave a little growl, flaring out his spines.

“I suppose there’s no point in telling you I refuse to drink that.”

“Drink as much as you can,” Kirra said softly. “We ground the herbs and mixed them into the water. That will help them get into your system faster. And you need the water, as well.”

Alvaranox glanced between the two women. Both faces were set with lines of worry. Nylah looked at the bucket, and Kirra gave the older woman a slow, single nod. They must have put something else in there. He stretched and twisted his long neck towards the bucket, and Nylah lifted it to hold it out to him. Ignoring the scent, the dragon delicately lapped at the water in the bucket. It was cold, and held a hint of a bitter medicine quality that helped to replace the coppery taste of his own blood. The water rolled down his long throat in waves. As he drank, the dragon could not help but notice the woman glancing at his belly now and then.

When Alvaranox paused for a breath, he forced a smile to his muzzle. “Please tell me you’re not waiting to see if that water runs out the hole in my belly.”

Their silence was not the answer he’d hoped for.

After a moment, Nylah gently stroked his neck. “Finish your water.”

Alvaranox pushed his muzzle into the bucket, lapping up the last of the water. He swirled his tongue around the bottom of it to collect the final bits of foul smelling herbs. As much pain as he was in, the unpleasantly bitter taste across his tongue was almost a welcome distraction. He forced himself to swallow the last of it, and then let his wedge-shaped head fall back against the grass.

Nylah smoothed out her nightgown, and settled herself down alongside the dragon’s head. “In a moment, we’re going to start working the Arrowbloom mixture into your wounds. What we just gave you should help ease your body into a restful state. If you start to fall asleep…”

“I know,” The dragon muttered. “Kirra told me. I have to stay awake.”

“…You can sleep now,” Nylah said, softly. “You won’t want to feel what’s about to happen any more than you have to.”

Alvaranox cocked his head without lifting it from the grass. He knew what that meant. Kirra had been worried about being unable to wake him, but they all knew he was fading swiftly. They were about to do whatever it took to force the bleeding to stop, and they would either save the dragon or they would fail. If this attempt was going to accelerate his demise, it would not matter if he was awake at the time or not. They would stop his bleeding, and then his body would either pull through…or it would not.

Nylah and Kirra both knew that. They had silently agreed to have Kirra add something to his the herbs to ensure he would sleep through the worst of it. The look they’d shared had been agreement that Alvaranox had suffered enough. If the dragon was to die this day, Nylah wanted his death to be as peaceful and painless as possible. They had just ensured that if his death were coming, it would come in his sleep.

“I understand,” Alvaranox murmured, closing his eyes. He did not wish to look at his bloodied body any more.

“We’re ready,” Kirra said softly, near the dragon’s belly.

“Give him a moment, first,” Nylah whispered.

As Alvaranox lay upon his back, Nylah slipped her hands under his head. She gently eased the dragons head up in her increasingly frail arms. Nylah guided the dragon to rest his head best he could against the warmth and comfort of her lap. Then she began to stroke the dragon’s throat. Nylah long ago discovered that was a very soothing gesture to a dragon. Alvaranox swallowed the lump suddenly present beneath her hand. A few tears threatened to spill from the dragon’s eyes.

“Nylah,” he said, his voice barely perceptible. “If I do not wake…”

“Hush, now,” Nylah said, caressing his scales. Her voice trembled as she sought to keep it from breaking. Sobs were climbing her throat, and threatened to send her crumpling against the dragon in a anguish-wracked heap.

“Thank you. For…” For being my friend.

“I said hush,” Nylah said when the dragon trailed off. She knew what he was trying to say, yet the more he spoke aloud the more she feared it was the last thing she’d ever hear him say. She leaned forward as she began to cry, pressing her face against the dragon’s bloodied scales as though he were some favored blanket there to comfort her, not the other way around. Her shoulders shook as she wept against the dragon. “You don’t have to say anything, Alv. Just rest.”

Kirra returned to them, crouching down to gently rub Nylah’s back. Alvaranox wanted to open his eyes, to look up at them one last time, but found himself unable. An entire ocean of fatigue was washing away his mind, eroding his consciousness one dark wave at a time. He thought he heard Kirra sniffling a little too. The dragon felt a few hot tears of his own escaping his closed eyes.

Gods. He did not want to die. Not in this place. Not in this barrel. Not alone.

Yet.

He wasn’t alone.

“Whatever happens,” Alvaranox murmured through a haze of unnatural drowsiness and fear. “Please don’t leave me.”

“I won’t,” Nylah promised through her tears, her voice a fervent whisper brushing against the dragon’s scales. Her breath felt cool against the wet streaks made by her tears. “Never, I promise!”

Alvaranox smiled as he drifted away. He wanted to thank her, but he could not find the strength to open his mouth again. The feeling of her warmth against him, her hand brushing his scales gradually faded into the background. He knew the pain was coming, but he let sleep overtake him. When at last the pain did come, it seemed distant, cold. The sharp, icy spike of it drove deep into his belly, and sent him tumbling into the merciful void of unconsciousness.