Below is what I’m toying with as the epilogue into Dragon’s Breath, book four in my Denicalis Dragon Chronicles series. Feel free to comment with ideas, thoughts, opinions, or just a simple hello if you like! And if not, that’s ok too - enjoy!
Dark, shadowed shapes stand quietly around an object on a beach in the gloomy twilight of a new day. Their heights vary, ranging from tall to short, much like bamboo pieces of a pan flute, one taller and one shorter than the one next to it. Two non-human creatures stand on either side of the line of seemingly human shapes in respectful silence.
The unrecognizable shapes are standing in a mournful huddle around a horizontal form before them, where it lies motionless on the sandy beach not far from the place where the water meets the land. The shape is that of a once vibrant yet now lifeless corpse.
A thick gray blanket of clouds hovers above them as an unwelcome cool mist covers the huddled group with a thin, damp blanket of moisture. The sparkling, liquid edge of the nearby lake is still somewhat choppy, pulsing in the slow, rhythmic process of settling down after an earlier commotion. This liquid oasis is the former home of the Castle of Tears.
Other than the group surrounding the corpse on the beach, there appears to be no other form of visible life anywhere around them. The eerie growls heard earlier in the thick blanket of fog are now silent, and the previous murky cloud of wispy tendrils which covered the lake earlier has dissipated with the dawn of a new day. Even the spinning, fish-spewing funnels are nowhere to be seen anywhere across the once dark, menacing body of water.
The mourners watch in silent disbelief as the nearby shoreline suddenly comes to life, giving birth to dozens of sand crabs as they erupt from their hiding places like lava from mini volcanoes. The beach creatures of varying shapes and sizes, with short, spindly legs, pay no attention to those huddled around the body where it remains motionless on the beach. The well-armored platoon of crustaceans works quickly, as if driven by a single mind, each taking its place next to an empty location adjacent to a sling brought by one of the larger non-human shapes – a dragon. After working in unison to spread the sling out like a flattened alia leaf, the crabs turn together and make their way to other unmarked yet unquestionable locations next to the horizontal form, still motionless on the shore just a few feet away.
The sad group watches the scene before them in silence, somehow knowing what was happening – what MUST happen – to their former comrade, each of them struggling with their emotions – stifling cries that beg to be released…
Each understanding that Grief is a powerful emotion and demon…
Each hoping this demon is one that can be overcome with vigilance, time, and a little bit of luck.
The only sounds heard as the sand crabs take their unmarked places alongside the corpse are the gentle lapping of the waves on the beach, restrained liquid cries for the loss of one so special - one so young - and the click, click, clicking of the sand creatures as they speak in a foreign tongue to each other…
Perhaps telling tales of other senseless deaths…
Perhaps asking each other why something so unfortunate, so wasteful, had to happen to this particular human on this particular day…
Perhaps offering sympathies in a strange language that, no matter how hard the humans tried, remained misunderstood.
Once the sand creatures completely surround the motionless corpse, they move in unison to raise it up off the sand. Then, inch by slow inch, they carry it like an offering to a king, over to the sling, where they gently lay it down on the thick, woven mesh of dark brown fabric.
The dragon watches the proceedings in silence.
Upon completion of the grim chore the horde of sand crabs shuffles in a scattered line to the border of the lake, just shy of the water’s edge. As the tide rhythmically pulls away then returns to the beach, small waves lap at their armor-covered legs with repeated, liquid caresses, yet the sand creatures seem to not notice.
The sound of a sniffle breaks the thick silence as a trail of unrestrainable tears cascades down one of the mourner’s cheeks.
Today they have lost a friend.
Please feel free to let me know what you think! Good or bad! Does it get your attention? Does it hook you and make you want to read more?
Happy reading my friends, and enjoy the last few days/weeks of summer!
Hugs, MJ
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