Dragonfly Web: Whitestuff

Twenty Eight | Sun Sets in the Heart of the World

"You must have been very scared." Magtha held Ciara's gaze, smiling at the young proxy.

The pair were together outside, near to the edge of the field leading toward the Hilltop camp and the further rainbow valley. Ciara stared, overlooking the late afternoon view of the range—sun cresting the sky.

She tried to clear the fog in her head and lift herself up. "What happened?" How did I get here? She still felt very much transformed by Skye's voice. I hope this wide swimming feeling goes away soon!

Magtha spoke her praise. "You are so brave to have taken this role as the dragon's own voice! I, myself, have seen images of huge wingspans, long necks and tails. —Their power is fearsome. You are so young. How did this dragon become your trainer, my girl?"

Ciara tried to recall her previous bearings. She remembered the chamber, the awful feeling— She had been swallowed by nothingness. The floor, its marble, hard, cold, felt even worse. It made her sick when she'd hit it. And now she was here. But why with this woman?

She struggled to answer. "I'm not sure I did any choosing. His voice spoke to me. Skye's words got my attention—he needed attention. And when I learned what he was wanting, I felt suddenly I found a purpose here—and a friend. So, I agreed to be Skye's proxy."

Magtha smiled again, as if she too had at last found a kindred spirit in one so young and so brave. "What have you learned of him?" she asked, enraptured.

Ciara looked off to the distance for rainbows and listened. Will I faint again? Her ears still rang. She began to speak from the same place within her—a still, white, inner place, where her own words were reassuring—more knowing than thinking. And she spoke what she'd learned from the tree and from Alphonse and from her time with Skye now to Magtha.

"The Grand Council Dracon will not wait. Here, Mearth will soon be their future—to meet with the Ancients—and in another sense, it is their or our past, if you see? Time is short, as Skye says—sometimes. But what time is—goes round and round in more circles. Some things exist—others do not."

Magtha started. "So hard to comprehend—"

"Yes. When dragon protection is again needed to save the planet—Skye is telling us they will be here. But Skye and his friends see deeper things. They believe there might be a chance—if we can figure that out. They want us to listen, to work together with them, but there is great risk to Skye and those friends. Their Council does not know what they are doing—that they help us this way."

"Why is it now they've chosen to help us?" whispered Magtha, almost unsure if she should interrupt. "Do you know what's gone on in the past?"

She shook her head. "Some of Skye's friends want to solve the problem by travelling through time—with those who have gifts. That's why he's here."

Magtha's eyes widened, but Ciara kept going.

"Skye's group hopes future humans can somehow bring wisdom from these now happier times back to the past—before such occasion where there was ever a need for protection and where there might—with their help—be no need to struggle again. Do you see—?"

"We need to assist him!" Magtha exclaimed in a soft realization.

"If they feel they must protect Mearth while Skye is still here, he too might disappear, like we all will. They don't know that he is."

"Why haven't the dragons talked to the people in past times?"

"The people can't hear them. The dragons—where they call themselves 'squamata' live deep under the sea. And the people on Earth didn't have magic to hear with back then."