LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE RENEGADE IMMORTAL - SECTION 9

“It appears that majority are split on the idea; please be good enough to furnish us with your unreserved opinion." His Excellency Lamont Gudaren asked Fradel Rurik Korvald.

 

01 - PM LAMONT GUDAREN -1-JP

“What...?” Suddenly Nevetsecnuac, having regained his full senses, grasped that was back to present reality. He was seated at the honored place at table as before, the large hall filled with animated, boisterous dignitaries enjoying the sumptuous feast and conversing with those nearby; but, apparently him included, few were engaged in a heated discussion. No one had experienced any lapse in time or his strange feeling of having been part of a …...?

What had happened?  Again, he inwardly queried. Had he (because of too much wine) fallen into a momentary stupor? Nevetsecnuac was still preoccupied in his mind with this mysterious feeling and clear lapses of memory, knowing, sensing he’d been part of a fantastic experience, only he could not recollect, what?

"Surely you don't condone it?" His Excellency Lamont Gudaren, taking Fradel’s prolonged silence as, an unexpected opposition to his view, with his relentless zeal, pressed the illustrious Scholar, for an answer.

During the brief interval that Fradel Rurik Korvald had closed his eyes, another dignitary misinterpreting his hesitation, had boldly began advancing his own argument in full support of the illustrious scholar.

"Are you all, right?" Zaur Stugr, the only one with astute sensitivity, now leaned forward closer to Fradel, to express subtly, in muted whisper, his genuine concern.

"Come to think of it, your complexion has turned abnormally pallid."  Unfortunately, the inebriated Lord seated beside Zaur loudly and brashly interjected, which directed (those seated at proximity,) the three or four bureaucrats’ unsolicited, pseudo (bogus) concerns to momentarily scrutinize Fradel Rurik Korvald. Subsequently, from those mouths the torrent of thoughtful, nonetheless ersatz blather, poured forth.

 

02-FRADEL (NEVETSECNUAC) AT PM PARTY

Fradel assured his host and everyone about that it was nothing serious and that he had felt momentarily lightheaded because of having consumed far too much of the excellent brew. Asking hence to be excused for a spell, and politely declining all offers of company, Fradel then quickly rose to his feet and escaped to outside; for a stroll and, to (presumably) clear his head, in the magnificent (well manicured) grounds. His lungs welcomed the crisp air. Twenty feet distance away, after crossing a meandering stilted (wooden) bridge, he came across an azure pavilion situated at a higher ground near the periphery of a heart-shaped pond; the whole structure was nestled by the exotic trees and in front of them, there were scores of colourful flowering bushes. After quickly ascending the eight steps, going over he sat down in one of the comfortable rattan-(wicker) chairs. Leaning back, he exhaled thoughtfully and then looking into distance, tried to gather his thoughts. Since the time he had for a spell, lost all consciousness, he had been haunted by the strong intuitive feeling that something had been amiss: something vital had transpired during that time and that it had something to do with an incantation (charm), an odd species (sentient being), or a talisman (object, trinket).

 “Yes, an amulet… one definitely, startlingly similar to Zonar's,” He suddenly recollected (recalled), the particularly, obscure memory, looking at the ripples on the pond.

Strangely enough, he had a keen sense of experiencing tonight, manifold episodes: supernatural attacks, spells, flareups, wily bouts, excruciating pain, magic, ogre, which had occurred in an instant, but had unnaturally, was erased from his memory. And why was the word, talisman, and another, the word, a name, Samnuk, both had persistently, kept on haunting his thoughts?”  Infuriatingly and for the life of him, he could not recollect.

 

"There you are!"  A familiar voice snapped Nevetsecnuac back from his reverie. "Please excuse my disruption, but His Excellency the Prime Minister was rather quite concerned; he sent me to look for you." Zaur Stugr came towards him apologetically after swiftly climbing the steps.

"He insisted." Zaur stopped and shook his head. "Actually, I wanted to assure myself that you were all right. I do apologize for this intrusion.”

“Seeing that you’re all right; I will leave you now to enjoy this all too brief solitude and to let you return back to your profound thoughts."  He grinned knowingly as if sharing a mischievous secret.

03- ZAUR STUGR   JP 21

Nevetsecnuac avoided Zaur's eyes. "No, please stay and take a seat. As a matter of fact, I wish to inquire as to the outcome of your investigations regarding that most singular key."

"Oh, that thing," Zaur drew closer and informally (casually) sat down at the adjacent (nearby) seat. "I meant to tell you earlier but with all these distractions."  He waved his hand in dismissal then, looking directly at Fradel assumed a hushed, officious tone, "Actually there have been some curious developments, if you can call it that." 

He paused and looked about cautiously, as if to heighten the suspense before he inclined his head and spoke more seriously, "By a strange coincidence we have uncovered, I know you will be most interested to hear this, another gentleman named Yavgen Deny, living right here in the Capital. He is a young sophist philosopher in his twenties and holds a secretarial post to a minor official in the Board of Grain. We had him checked out, naturally, to determine the accuracy of the testimony and found all his claims to be legitimate. Still, there are one or two matters yet to be cleared up." Zaur once again paused for emphasis. Studying Fradel from the corner of his eye he was amused by the slight change of color in Fradel’s cheeks (discoloration, in his pallor), that belied the inner conflict the scholar was attempting to hide.

 

“But I had made up that name.” Nevetsecnuac thought, “Now it seems that I've inadvertently involved an innocent man.”

 

"Come now, you didn't expect that", Zaur held back the word rogue, "person to have confessed his real name to you, did you?"  Zaur good humouredly threw his head back and (chortled) laughed.

Very much relieved, Nevetsecnuac now smiling, nodded. “Right you are. I still have a-lot to learn, about…" He abruptly fell silent and looked away.

"Quite so; " Zaur politely cut in; dispelling (dismissing) further unnecessary embarrassment to his guest.

"My men will nevertheless continue in their ardent investigation and, as the reports come in, I will keep you apprised of any further developments. Just between us, however, I dare confess that this key is proving to be the source of quite profound mystery and I happened to have a particular weakness for this field.”

“It does (somewhat,) alleviate the boredom of my mundane official duties and predictable bureaucracy. Present company exempted (excepted), of course.”  Zaur then seemingly abashed (embarrassed), as if to cover up his supposed, inadvertently professed discontent, quickly changed the topic of conversation and, after a period of discourse covering more harmless subjects (including the one Fradel had prior prevaricated to respond), he rose to take his leave; at which point Fradel also rising, volunteered to return with him.

Back at the party, Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) armed with the knowledge, gave his apt diplomatic response when he was again pressed to give his viewpoint; then with certain eloquence, advancing a-number-of logical, indisputable facts (data), he was able to quickly resolve the contentious issues (points) to the satisfaction of all.

 

 

                                                                           ~

 

Halfway across the city, after having successfully completed his onerous and disdainful official obligations Lenny Sukzor then had hastened to succinctly apprise Egil Viggoaries of the latest developments. Three hours later Lenny armed with new set of instructions, his face grim and pallid (ashen), being perfunctorily dismissed, closed the door noiselessly behind him.

Egil Viggoaries’s eyes devoid of least mercy, pensively stared at the door for a time then, rising from his seat, slowly walked over to the window. Looking at the outside, the Dark Eunuch gradually sported a sinister wide grin, pleased with the inroads he had been making into the faction of his arch nemesis, the Prime Minister. His clever ploy, according to Lenny’s report, had worked wonderfully thus far. Moreover, this recently acquired (obtained) latest piece of evidence, should seriously undermine all of Lamont Gudaren's efforts to extricate that wretched nephew of his.

“Your days are numbered,” Egil Viggoaries gritted his teeth. “The line is cast. Soon, along with Yekov, I shall snare (net) the prime game.”

 

                                                                            ~

 

 

(END OF SECTION 9)

 

 

 

 

 

 

THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 21

 LEGEND OF NEVETSECNUAC - THE STATE OF THINGS - SECTION 21

02- ABBOT TUHO

After the scholar Fradel had left the room, Yenis hung her head, pouting for a long while, as seething anger stirred within her.  Eventually putting her disappointment and rage forcefully aside, she reclined and attempted in earnest to get some sleep.  Still, her melancholy and irritation drove away any sleep and she stayed fully awake most of that night, wrapped in a despondent, fitful mood, suffering from emotions and thoughts that obstinately refused to go away.

In the next room, Nevetsecnuac (Fradel) had spread out his overcoat next to a dry wall, rolled his outer garments up into a neat bundle and placed them under his head as he lay down to sleep.  Hearing a stirring behind him, he instantly turned and sat bolt upright.

Luminous, swirling vapors circled the center of the room, finally settling to reveal the apparitions of three handsomely clad monks kneeling to face him in supplication, flanked by two novices carrying lamps which glowed with a cold fire. 

Rising to his feet, Nevetsecnuac (Fradel) was about to accost them when the center monk bowed low on courtesy and, in a resounding voice, gave solemn greetings to him invoking the name Prince Nevetsecnuac Alric Therran Valamir. He then added:

"Abbot Tuho respectfully requests an audience with Your Highness.  Please follow us."

Not waiting for Nevetsecnuac's reply, they rose to their feet in unison and, bowing, floated out of the room.

"Please wait up, sirs."  Nevetsecnuac grabbed the bundle of garments and rushed outside after them trying, as he moved, to clothe himself decently.  Everything outside was bathed in unnatural, cool daylight, its beauty almost taking Nevetsecnuac ‘breath away.  All had been transformed into the exact semblance of its former glory.  In the splendor of the days before the monk's demise Nevetsecnuac noted the red columns, inlaid with jewels lining the halls.  Cut diamond chandeliers were suspended from the ceiling, their brilliance mirrored in the smooth marble of the floors.  Brilliantly colored murals surrounded every door and, flanking the portals, tall, lifelike statues stood sentry over the rare fragrances wafting in from the courtyard outside.

Nevetsecnuac passed through polished white terraces, over petal strewn paths checkered by the cold sun's golden rays, and around crystalline ponds housing darting goldfish.  Rare birds sang joyously from branches adorned with spring flowers, their melody in perfect consonance with the monk's lugubrious harmonies and the rhythmic pealing of bells.  All was so indescribably beautiful, so entrancingly transient and serene that Nevetsecnuac felt as if he was in a heavenly palace among the immortals.

Returning inside, he trod on plush carpeting, so soft he felt he was walking on clouds and noted with interest the identities of the idols that inhabited the great hall.  His wish to stop and pay his proper respects to these gods, however, was overridden by the monks' unwillingness to wait.  After a slight bow from the waist, he picked up his steps and rushed after the monks, who had very nearly vanished from view.  Seeing them disappear behind a large set of doors, he followed their lead and entered the Great Hall, where some seven or eight hundred monks, draped in magnificent capes, had already assembled. 

Separated into two neat groups arrayed around the center like a palm leaf, they were kneeling, hands clasped, in absolute obeisance (homage, respect) to the surprisingly young-looking Abbot, who was sitting in his golden cloud-patterned high-backed chair, positioned at left, center of the dais (platform). Abbot was the only one that did not have his eyes closed in deep trance.  Behind him at slightly lower podium, in intricately carved chairs set, the key (prominent)administrative priests, other high-ranking staff and scribes. etc. 

Instructed to wait at the door by the portal's guards, Nevetsecnuac watched his three guides take their respective places, close their eyes and strike the same pose as the rest. 

The two novices brought their lighted staffs to Nevetsecnuac's side and quietly led him up to the Abbot's dais.  His eminence’s eyes were at first lowered (half-closed) in contemplative pose, as if in prayer, his manner, serene yet imposing and dignified.

Nevetsecnuac waited until the golden-haired, most august-looking Abbot Tuho finally looked up and smiled at Nevetsecnuac.  

At once, Nevetsecnuac bowed his head reverently to the Abbot, who solemnly reciprocated (returned) the bow, then placed his palms together before his chest then raised it to his forehead in the traditional greeting.

Coming forward next, the Abbot took Nevetsecnuac's hands and, smiling warmly, said,

"It’s very kind of Your Highness to honor us with your presence.  May we now request that Your Highness permit us to show proper and due respect as well as our boundless gratitude."

He ushered Nevetsecnuac into a seat of honor, a magnificent high-backed chair intriguingly carved with a dragon motif, bearing the Seal of the reign of Nevetsecnuac's grandfather, on a singly higher podium to the right.

"This is where His Majesty, Zuronghan Therran Valamir, always sat to receive our oaths of fealty.  This honor is now conferred on to you, Your Highness."

03- NEVETSECNUAC BEING HONORED

 After Nevetsecnuac, with all due modesty, took up his seat, Abbot Tuho, the elder monks, the Prior, the Abbot's assistant, the Deacon, the two senior scribes and all others arrayed themselves by rank in single file to the accompaniment of bells, drums and gongs.

 When all was still once more, the long procession of monks came forward in measured steps and, one by one, knelt and touched their foreheads reverently to the floor before Nevetsecnuac.  Each one proclaimed their fealty and gratitude to him.  Their resounding, rippling words permeated the air of the Great Hall with an aura of auspicious light.

Just then a scented breeze wafted through the Hall and the ceiling of the Great Hall parted with reverberating thunder.  All eyes(heads) turned upwards; Nevetsecnuac, the Abbot and all the monks without exception, immediately and with reverence (of this miracle), had dropped to their knees, mutely expressing deep gratitude to all the Gods, Immortals and Royal lineage, for this special (favor) blessing.

 Nevetsecnuac with misted eyes observed high above him, hosted by various Gods riding the backs of Dragons, his majestic grandfather, his father, and the other members of the Royal family, all, peering down at him from the luminous clouds and approvingly smiling at him. 

Subsequently, after all the revered beings had departed and the ceiling once more sealed (closed up), Abbot Tuho wreathed in smiles coming forth, invited Nevetsecnuac to a feast in the huge dining hall of the Abbey, to commemorate this auspicious occasion.  They took up their respective seats and happily partook (consumed, shared) the delightful array of exotic fruits from distant lands and sundry, intercontinental vegetarian dishes; meanwhile, from silver goblets all drunk heartily the refreshing liquids to quench their rising thirsts, while they listened to the soothing melodies of the harp.

During dinner Nevetsecnuac, seizing an opportunity, politely asked Abbot Tuho for his guidance.

"All is to be done according to Heaven's will."  The Abbot paused and then, in a quiet, serious voice, added, "Your Highness, you must remember that perceived reality is an illusion, and things are rarely what they seem.  Lay your trust in the unlikely one and pluck out the root of evil implanted in the abandoned son."

"Help…Help!  Save me!"  A sudden, desperate cry shook Nevetsecnuac into wakefulness.

He found himself, fully dressed, seated on a wooden crate in the middle of the large, dilapidated hall.  Only the moonlight, streaming through the broken windows and the gaps in the walls illuminated his way.  It was most fortunate that he had marked the area well during the day's surveying, for now he had to blindly rush back to Yenis' room.  She was obviously in mortal danger.

When he reached the outside of her door he hesitated to enter for a moment or two and knocked instead.  "Are you all, right?" he inquired, afraid she may not be decent; afraid she may only be having a nightmare.

"Ay!  Get away from me!  Help me, Master Fradel!  Save me!"

Her shout quickly made up his mind for him.  Forsaking propriety, Nevetsecnuac (Fradel) burst inside; to apprehend the culprit but he found no such person there.

 She was sitting, all alone, on the edge of the bedding, trembling in fright.  Soaked in perspiration, her diaphanous inner garment clung tightly to her body, attenuating the outlines of her exposed bosom as it swelled and heaved with her gasps.

Embarrassed, Fradel lowered his eyes to the ground at once, muttering apologies for the intrusion, and started to take his leave.

"Please don't go.  I'm so frightened." the girl pleaded in a quivering, provocative voice.

"Don't be." Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) assured her, his eyes still pinned to the ground.

"It's your taut nerves that are playing tricks on you.  It was only a bad dream.  I'll light this torch and leave it here for you, if you like."

"But I really did see someone sinister lurking about.  It was not a dream, I swear it!" in a tragic tone she protested.

 "I was not asleep yet.  Truly there was someone in my room.  I did not get to see his face, but he stood over there, as surely as I am here…A monstrously big man with grizzled red hair and blazing beard."

"That's impossible." Fradel shook his head.  "This room has no windows and no other openings besides the door I just came in.  I made sure of that earlier.  How could he appear out of thin air?"  He was beginning to lose patience with her.

"You're mocking me.", she said indignantly, pouting, puckering her lips. "Has it occurred to you that there might be a secret passage here that you might have overlooked?"

"No, that was ruled out when I thoroughly searched this room earlier."  Fradel (Nevetsecnuac) was unrelenting, but softened his tone to urge her, without turning around, "Please do not be afraid and try to get some rest."

04- YENIS LUKO

"Oh, please, I implore you, don’t go." She whimpered (moaned) seductively, then rushed over to tug at his sleeve.

 "I don't care if you believe me or not, just don't leave me alone.  I'm sorry if I spoke harshly just then."  Stomping her foot, she rebuked him gently, "You just don't care what happens to me; you obviously don’t! But how can you be so heartless to leave me here all alone without any protection?"

 Weeping, she ran back and threw herself on the bedding.  "I'm afraid.  What if he comes back?" she looked up to ask, despairingly.

Recalling the other set of footprints in the tunnel, the large ones paralleling those of Yenis, which she’d claimed to have had no knowledge of, and remembering the Abbot's parting injunction that ‘things are not what they seemed’, Fradel stopped.  The girl was frightened in earnest.  Perhaps there was something in what she claimed, for that odd sensation of being watched by unseen eyes gnawed at him again.

 "Well, all right." he acquiesced with his back still towards her.  "You may rest easy; I’ll stand guard outside the door."  He closed the door after him then sat down with his back against it.

Is this scholar made of flesh and bone? Nevertheless, comforted by his presence outside, shrugging her shoulders, Yenis closed her eyes to sleep.

 Oh well, there will be plenty of other opportunities.  Resigned to this night’s temporary setback, she yawned a few more times then, rolling over, soon drifted into blissful sleep for the remainder of the night.

 

(END OF SECTION 21)

                                                                                          ~ 

THE DRAGON’S PEARL

THE DRAGON'S PEARL (REVISED)

Once upon a time in Shu province a widowed woman and her only son lived in a thatched hut by the banks of the Min River. Now they were very poor and since the mother was old and ailing the young boy from an early age was burdened with the responsibility of providing for them both. As he loved his mother very much, he worked very hard from dawn to dusk trying his best to obtain a reasonable livelihood by cutting and selling grass. Many a night he stayed awake worrying that this may not be enough to sustain them; should an unforeseen calamity strike, it would surely mean certain ruin.

Then came a time when his worse fears were realized. That summer a severe drought depleted their already scant reserves, and he was forced to venture farther inland each morning in search of better grass. Even this expanded effort had proved fruitless as what he harvested was not even worth taking to market. Unrelenting, he ventured ever higher into the mountain, following paths never before trod by human feet. Once more he’d scavenged most of the morning and afternoon and being disappointed, with stooped shoulders he resolved to head home when suddenly, over a small rise, he spotted a meadow of verdant grass. In disbelief he rubbed his eyes and looked on anew. It still was there. With bated breath he ran towards it. True enough, the thick luxuriant grass, flourishing on a fertile earth was ripe for the picking. Halting for a spell he breathed in the fragrance of this lush green treasure. Oh, how gently they swayed, combed by the gentle breeze.

“What am I waiting for?” He quickly put an end to his daydream and a moment later began cutting and bundling the grass. He worked well into the afternoon, and it was only when the rays of the sun began to dim that he reluctantly shouldered his heavy burden and made his journey home. Not before making a mental note of the topography of the exact location however, so as to claim the remainder on the morrow.

In the drought stricken land the proceeds from the sale of the lush grass were far more than the weekly pay and that evening mother and son were able to indulge for the first time ever in a more bountiful feast that included fish, poultry and varied vegetables alongside a superior brand of rice.

The subsequent day the boy retraced his steps joyfully expecting to find the remainder of the patch. However, to his great amazement, the meadow was once more fully overgrown with verdant grass. He did not stop to wonder why but set to work at once with boundless energy and enthusiasm and this time harvested the entire field. As he loaded up the last of his bundle and headed home, he consoled himself by resolving to scour the area more carefully on next occasion. There had to be a comparable field waiting to be found somewhere adjacent to this one.

 

You can imagine his delight the next day in finding the same patch re-grown so fully and perfectly he could swear it had never been touched at all. “The field is enchanted; there is no need to look elsewhere!”

Once more he set to work, this time fearlessly harvesting all the grass once more and returning home with his heavy burden. This he repeated day after day as their circumstances became more comfortable, then luxuriant and secure. They now lived happily. However, there was only one hitch; the long, arduous, sometimes hazardous, trek had begun to wear the boy down. Consulting with his mother on this matter the alternative suddenly presented itself. If the patch was enchanted it could perhaps deliver the same abundance if it was planted elsewhere, preferably at closer proximity.

With this in mind, he made the journey the following morning, and instead of harvesting it he dug up each segment of the turf, roots, soil and all and tied them into rolls. Midway through this toil he spotted a most magnificent, luminescent pearl resting in a tangle of root and soil as he rolled up the clod of turf. “Hah, what a pretty find. Mom will like this. ” He stopped long enough to put it in his pocket then continued on with his work, not giving it another thought.

Wrestling this heavier burden down the mountain he replanted it at closer proximity to his home. And it wasn’t until all the patches were laid down next to their cabin that he realized his fatigue and hunger. He quickly got washed up and entered the home to sit at the table already laden with food and satiate his hunger. Stomach quickly filled he leaned back for a reprieve before they cleared the dishes. Then his hand, roaming in his pocket, happened to touch the pearl. Elatedly he presented it at once to his mother. Even with her failing sight she could tell its brilliance and value, especially when it lit up the dim room with a warm glow. Fearing losing it, his mother decided to store it in the unused old rice jar that she kept as a memento from the lean years. It still contained those few grains of rice they had left before their stroke of luck, just enough of them to cover the pearl.

Following day at the crack of dawn the boy jumped out of bed and wolfed down some bread and cheese then, careful not to wake his sleeping mom, dashed outside to begin his harvest. What greeted him however, wrenched his heart. There was no lush grass, just a dried withered bald patch with a few dried brown stalks poking up from the dust. “I’ve ruined everything.” His eyes brimming with tears he turned towards the house to relay this terrible news to his mom. Just then a scream from the house hastened his steps.

“What is it mama?” He shouted the moment he entered the premise.

“Look,” She pointed at the old rice container, “See it for yourself.”

Indeed, the moment he lifted the lid, a miracle that greeted his eyes: the old rice container was full of fresh white, fragrant rice and, on top, the large pearl glowed warmly.

Mother and son exchanged a knowing look. Later when the son told his mom of his failure with the patch, it became crystal clear that the pearl was the true source of magic. In order to be absolutely sure however, they now placed the pearl in the money box that contained only few coins, then carefully hid it under the bed.

The following morning, even before breakfasting the son was asked to retrieve it, as it was too heavy and cumbersome for her to fetch. True enough, it did feel heavier. It came as no surprise to both when, after the lid was lifted, the bounty of cash was discovered, the pearl perched on top.

This being proof positive they knew how to proceed from then on. They used the magic pearl sparingly and wisely, reciprocating the kindness of neighbours that had once aided them in their time of need. Knowing what it is like to be poor their unstinting kindness extended to those others, even strangers that happened to be caught in dire straits. Despite all the goodwill, the mother and son’s apparent improved fortunes, in time drew unwarranted attention, curiosity and some envy from their neighbours in their small village.

The secret could no longer be contained. Through coercion and trickery, the source of their wealth was eventually discovered. The word spread like wildfire and soon after a mob of villagers, some friendly, a few not so friendly, gathered by the house demanding in a loud uproar to see this phantom pearl for themselves. Goaded to prove that the reasons for their recent prosperity did not involve thievery, the boy foolishly fetched the pearl then held it up for all to see. The glow at first mesmerized all the onlookers but, far from being assuaged, the crowd grew restless and resentful.

Why should they be the sole possessors of such a gift from the Heavens? Everyone wanted a turn at possessing it. Each coveted it; and some demanded immediate ownership of the pearl for more righteous, personal reasons. Tempers flared and faces became distorted with loathing, greed and revulsion. The tumult grew increasingly uglier and the situation more volatile.

Fearing the impending assault on himself, on his mother, or the theft of the pearl, the boy impetuously popped the pearl into his mouth to keep it safe. In that pandemonium, however, the boy was shoved to and for and, giving in to reflex, the pearl dropped through his oesophagus. All at once he was overwhelmed with the sensation of being scorched from inside the stomach; an unbearable, searing fire consumed his innards.

“Water! Water!” Screaming, he dashed to the well at the side of the house and, as fast as he could haul the buckets out, consuming the water until the well ran dry. Still burning up, he ran in a frenzy to throw his body down to the bank to the river and began to lap it up. He drank and drank, but nothing could assuage the all-consuming sensation of burning. The stunned villagers watched in horrified amazement as the once mighty river Min was diminished to a trickle, then that too disappeared. As the last drop flowed down the boy’s throat, a huge crack of thunder tore up the sky. The Earth trembled as countless forks of lightning flashed across the sky heralding the eruption of a violent storm and a deluge of rain that threatened to drown them all.

“Now you’ve done it! Heaven is angered. Flee, flee for your lives!” The shouts scattered most of the crowds. Others, with wobbling legs, fell on their knees and covered their heads and faces in terror. Amidst curses and lamentations, they bewailed their ill fate in wavering voices.

Meanwhile the boy had begun to tremble uncontrollably as he grew and grew. His desperate mother, forgetting her own terror, hung on to his legs with all her strength, but he was beyond help. Horns sprouted on his forehead and his eyes grew wider and larger their red glow emitting tendrils of fire. His skin was also altered gradually but surely into scales. Now at mammoth size, his dismayed mother watched in sad resignation, as her beloved son transformed into a Dragon. Too late she remembered the legend of every water dragon possessing a treasured magic pearl, and only then grasped that the pearl had originally belonged to the dragon guarding this river.

The deluge meanwhile had filled the river once more and her darling boy, now a dragon, started to glide towards it. With courage only a mother has she clung onto his scaly foot but, with a gentle pull, he freed himself. He slithered towards the torrent as his very motion threw up mud-banks along the sides of the river. Love is a powerful bond and so, each time that she cried out to him, the dragon did turn his mammoth body to briefly gaze her. After an angst-ridden roar however, he slid beneath the torrent of the river Min. 

To this day the mud banks on the river Min are referred to as the “Looking Back at Mother” banks, in memory of the boy who’d swallowed the pearl and transformed into a mighty River Dragon. True to the boy’s generous nature, the Dragon of the River fed and nourished the crops of the villages along his banks from that day on, and there has never again been such a taxing drought in that province.

The End