Starroc
Starroc
by James Best
Just outside the forest stood an old, ramshackle mansion. This mansion belonged to an army captain who inherited it from a distant uncle. After falling on hard times, the captain was left with no choice but to move his family out to the dilapidated estate. In spite of their troubles, his family managed to get by.
There was one family member who was far from satisfied with the state of affairs: the captain’s youngest daughter, Chrysandra. At first, when she’d been told they were moving to live in a mansion out in the country, she was ecstatic. She’d always dreamed of living in a large, impressive house surrounded by a picturesque landscape. From the moment she laid eyes on the crumbling building and the eerie forest surrounding it, however, she realized her life was going to be anything but idyllic.
She could almost accept the poor condition of the house. That at least could be mended. It was the woods that upset her the most. A thick mist always permeated the ground there, like an army of haunting ghosts. Glowing eyes would often peer out from the shadows beneath the leaves. Whenever the wind came howling from the north, the trees would writhe as if brought alive by witchcraft. The branches closest to the house would scrape against the windows, keeping the poor girl up all night with fears of a nightmare trying to claw its way inside. Though her parents tried to calm her fears, Chrysandra was certain that child-eating monsters were lurking in the forest.
Worse still, it was difficult for Chrysandra to make friends now. Few children wanted anything to do with someone who lived so close to those woods. It was bad luck, after all. And the few that didn’t mind were the runts of the town: the slow witted, ill mannered, poorly dressed, lower class riffraff.
As if to scare her, Chrysandra’s newfound company told all manner of tall tales concerning the nearby forest. According to them, ghosts, werewolves, vampires, and other ghastly creatures concealed themselves in the shadows of those terrifying trees. Chrysandra acted as though she didn’t fall for their stories. But despite her brave face, with her personal experience with the forest, she couldn’t help but believe them.
Another tale her friends spun told of an abandoned castle deep within the forest, built on a stone pillar in the middle of a deep, bottomless gorge. None dared to venture into the forest to confirm the story, but it was said this mysterious citadel housed a great treasure horde.
This story especially stuck with Chrysandra. Unlike the usual ghost stories, this one inspired hope rather than fear or loathing. When she was kept up at night by the wind whipped branches clawing at her window, she would comfort herself with thoughts of the treasure and what she could do if she had it. No longer would she be forced to live in the old, ruined mansion near the haunted woods. She could buy her own mansion up in the mountains or perhaps one in the city or perhaps build her own wherever she pleased. But she could never bring herself to dare the dangers of the forest to make those dreams a reality. As the months wore on, however, Chrysandra grew even more weary of her lot in life, to the point where her desire for gold outweighed even the darkest horrors the forest could muster.
One day, while her father was away on a campaign, she stole into his wardrobe and put on one of his old uniforms. Even though it was the smallest outfit from his younger days, it was still an ill fit for Chrysandra. The jacket hung on her baggily, even when held up with the sash. The tails dragged behind her like two miniature capes. The boots went up past her knees. The hat barely stayed on her head properly, and would often slide forward and obscure her vision. She picked out her father’s smallest sword, but even that required both her hands to lift. As mismatched as her equipment was, Chrysandra felt it was necessary if she were to brave the dangers of the forest.
Wearing the oversized outfit and dragging the sword in its scabbard behind her with an awful clatter, Chrysandra cut quite a ridiculous figure as she embarked on her quest. So much so, that her mother and siblings were too busy laughing at her to guess her intentions.
Even with the confidence provided by the sword and the uniform, it still took a great deal of courage to step into the forest. The fog seemed especially thick today, the glowing eyes more plentiful, and the trees more active than usual.
Thankfully, no monsters attacked Chrysandra as she made her way through the forest. However, the woods had other ways of impeding her progress. There were several instances when a malicious tree seemed to lift its roots to trip the intrepid girl, often succeeding. She had to force her way through many a bush, getting scraped by thorny branches. She had to wade through a couple brooks flowing with icy water. Cold, cut, and bruised, Chrysandra was on the verge of giving up when she noticed a clearing not far ahead. Filled with fresh determination, she hurried along as fast as she could, tripping over a few more tree roots and stumbling through a few more bushes along the way, until she finally reached the clearing.
The afternoon sun was just beginning its descent. The fog that blanketed the forest was cleared away, leaving nothing to obscure Chrysandra’s sight of the panorama before her, except for her hat, which slid in front of her eyes for what seemed the millionth time. She stood at the edge of a precipice overlooking a gorge so deep the bottom was nothing but a pool of inky blackness. In the middle of this chasm, standing on a lone column of crumbling earth and connected to the main land by a thin, straight bridge was the castle. Even worse off than the mansion, it was a foreboding, decaying structure that looked ready to fall apart at a moment’s notice. A tremendous wall surrounded the interior. The only means of access was an arch blocked by a thick portcullis. Looming above the wall used to be tall spires, but now they were mostly broken, looking more like jagged teeth jutting out of the castle’s top.
Any older person would have taken one look at this scene and turned back then and there. But Chrysandra was too young to recognize the dangers of daring such a decaying structure. But the intimidating atmosphere of the castle made her pause all the same, though it did not halt her for long. Taking her first steps onto the narrow bridge, she noticed it had no support beneath it. It was a long way down, with no way back up. With the chasm yawning beneath her, she was suddenly sick from vertigo. Slowly and carefully, she inched her way across the bridge, until, at last, she reached the main gate.
Chrysandra tried squeezing through the bars of the portcullis, but she could not. That’s when she noticed a small crack off to the side near it, no doubt formed from years of corrosion. It was just big enough for her to crawl through, which she did, with a slight struggle. She was finally inside the castle.
There was no need for a torch or lantern. The roof had fallen in several places, allowing rivulets of light to pierce the shadows. From them, she could see that she was in the great hall, a long room with stately columns lining either side. Most of these had fallen with age, but there were still a few providing structural support. On the other side, there was a set of wide stairs leading up to two empty thrones. Perhaps this is where the king and queen once sat to greet their guests? But now they were cold, empty, and not a little dusty. There was no treasure to be seen.
Chrysandra was undeterred. She crept up the stairs and looked past the two thrones. Behind them was an archway that opened into another smaller hall. At the opposite end of this was a winding staircase that zigzagged its way up the wall, allowing access to two tiered levels that overlooked the ground floor. At the very top, Chrysandra could see more light spilling out from an ornate doorway.
“That must be the treasure room!” she thought as she ran up the stairs. She pushed the door open and entered into a large chamber.
Lo and behold! There before her was what she had been toiling towards all this time! The treasure horde! It was everything she imagined it to be. Gold and silver coins piled together into towering mounds, with treasure chests and trinkets dotted among them. Even in the dim half-light it sparkled with divine brilliance.
Immediately, she was taken by the hunger for gold. She rushed up the mountainous treasure pile to see what lay beyond the first mound. Though she slipped and fell a few times, she managed to climb her way to the top. From her lofty perch, Chrysandra could see the treasure horde stretched out to the ends of the room. Immediately before her it sunk into a deep valley. Then she saw something lying at the bottom of this valley, a mass of stony skin. The very sight of it froze her soul.
Just as if it’d sprung from the pages of a fairy tale was an enormous dragon. Chrysandra almost turned to run away in fear of the beast. But on closer inspection it looked terribly old. It’s gray pachydermal skin hung like loose rolls of fat around its joints. A thick white beard grew from its chin. Great leathery wings hung limply at its sides. There was no movement, not even a slight twitch at the end of its tail. Indeed, it seemed to have died long ago.
As she observed each of these things, Chrysandra’s courage was restored. She slid down next to the dragon and reached out to touch it. There was no reaction. It must have been dead. Satisfied that everything was safe, Chrysandra got on her knees and scooped up a handful of gold.
In that very instant, the dragon began to stir. It twitched erratically, like a dog in the middle of a dream. It began to breathe, exhaling hot air and sulfurous steam from its nostrils. Then the beast’s eyelids leadenly lifted, and its gaze gradually came to focus on Chrysandra. Driven near mad by fear, she dropped the treasure she’d gathered up as if it burned her. She tried moving backwards, but she tripped over her coat tails and scabbard instead, landing flat on her back. The dragon’s spine cracked as it extended its neck and brought its head where Chrysandra lay. Its mouth was so close, Chrysandra began to sweat with the heat of the dragon’s breath.
At first, it didn’t do anything. It only looked at her with its dull, sleepy eyes. Then, it spoke. With a low booming voice, it filled the air with its stale, heated breath. “Who are you supposed to be?” it said, seemingly annoyed at having been so rudely awakened.
Chrysandra managed to pull herself up, till she was looking the dragon right in the eyes. Before she said anything, she remembered her father’s sword. With a bit of struggle, she pulled the sword from the scabbard and daringly pointed it right at the dragon’s snout. Chrysandra wasn’t sure whether the sword wavered so much due to her difficulty in holding the heavy metal implement or due to her uncontrollable shaking.
“I-I-I’m here to c-cl-claim this treasure f-for myself.” she stammered, “I killed plenty of d-d-d-dra-dragons in my time. So, you’d b-b-better leave now if you want to die...I-I mean live!” And she wasn’t entirely lying either. However, she was failing to mention that the previous “dragons” she’d “slain” were her playacting brothers and sisters.
The dragon was unimpressed. “If only I had a gold piece every time I’ve been told that.” he cast a weary glance back at his treasure horde, “Oh wait, I do.” He was silent for a moment, as if expecting applause for a well-delivered joke, “Regardless, my name is Starroc. I must say, you’ve rather ignited my curiosity. Usually your people come to this sort of occasion better dressed. You shouldn’t be pointing that sword at me, but your tailor.”
“I-it’s the best I could do. N-n-now are you going to leave, or aren’t you?”
“You’re being remarkably rude. You barge into my home, wake me from my nap, and threaten harm against my person without even giving me the benefit of your name. Why, that’s so brassy, I have half a mind to toast you right here and now.”
“Wait!” Chrysandra cried, “I’m sorry! I-I didn’t mean to be so rude. My name is Chry- Chrysandra.”
“Well, Chrysandra, after giving it some weighty consideration, I have decided not to abdicate my treasure. Which leaves us with only one option to settle our dispute.” Starroc said. As he spoke, he heaved himself off the treasure pile, stretching his appendages to their full extent. “Now, as the combatant with the clear and definite advantage, the morals of warfare state that I must allow you the first blow. I must stress that you give it your all. I’d expect nothing less from a seasoned warrior such as yourself.”
With that, Starroc lowered his head directly in front of Chrysandra, in anticipation for the first strike. Seeing the dragon at his full size drained the girl of her willpower completely. If she took the strike, he would destroy her in a single blow. There was no way her tiny sword could cut through Starroc’s hide anyway. Running away would be the most sensible thing to do. But, no! She couldn’t turn back after coming so far. If she played her cards right, Chrysandra knew she could still walk out of this castle with some of the gold she desperately needed.
“N-now wait just a minute!” she said, backing away and lowering her sword, “There may be a way we can clear this up without any violence. I did-didn’t necessarily come here to kill a dragon, after all.”
“What a relief.” said Starroc.
“Gold’s what I came here for. J-just gold. You seem to have plenty here already. So why don’t I just take a small amount, just an armful. Then you and I can go our separate ways and agree never to bother each other again. How does that s-sound?”
Starroc laughed. “And what have you done for me that would merit such an expenditure? Nothing, that’s what. I can think of cheaper ways to end your bothering.”
Starroc hunkered down like a cat preparing to pounce. Chrysandra let out a shrill scream and scrambled back up the treasure pile, eliciting cruel laughter from the dragon as he followed closely behind her. Once she reached the top, she slid down to the floor and hid behind some rubble. Toying with his prey, the dragon approached her hiding place slowly. As she cowered, an idea suddenly struck her. Cautiously, she risked peeping over her cover.
“Maybe I-I-I could do something for you. A favor in return for some of your treasure.” she said.
That gave the dragon something to think about. Chrysandra felt she was on to something.
“Somehow I doubt there’s anything you could do for me. But let’s hear what you had in mind anyway.” Starroc said.
Unfortunately, Chrysandra didn’t have anything in mind. She could only umm and err as her mind struggled to bring up anything she could possibly do for a dragon before he grew tired of her and finished her off.
“I could clean up around here for you.” she finally suggested, indicating the rubble surrounding them.
“You? A puny child clean this entire castle by herself?” Starroc scoffed, “Besides, I happen to like all these ruins. Lends the place a nostalgic, antique atmosphere.”
Chrysandra wasn’t one to give up, even as she fumbled through her thoughts trying to come up with an alternative. “Surely you must eat! I’ll head home and make you supper and bring it back here!” she said. She couldn’t really cook, but she figured the dragon wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between her cooking and her mother’s.
“Tempting. But I’m afraid the only meal from you I’m interested in dining on has you in it.” the dragon replied, licking his lips.
Now things were getting serious. Not only was Starroc threatening to kill her, now he was planning to eat her as well. Nearly at her wits end, she could only think of one final favor to suggest.
“I guess I could sing for you.” Chrysandra said.
“What? As if I were some child?” the dragon cocked his head.
“Yes. Everyone enjoys a good song, no matter how old they get. And I’m a very good singer.”
“Oh, very well then. Not that I’m agreeing to anything. I want to hear you sing first. Then I’ll decide whether or not it’s worth a bit of treasure.”
Chrysandra may have been an adept singer for her age, but she didn’t know many songs. The one she knew the best was an old lullaby her mother used to sing to her. That was as good a choice as any she supposed and she went into it as sweetly as she could.
“Mother Moon lays Infant Earth down to sleep.
Cloudy pillow and blanket of starlight.
Lullaby baby, lullaby on!
Though she must ride through the fields of the night,
Moon won’t leave Earth ‘til she’s slumbering deep.
Slumber, O baby, slumber right on!”
As she sang, Chrysandra noticed Starroc’s eyes began to droop. His head swayed slowly and he mumbled something incoherently. To her surprise, her lullaby was having some effect on the dragon. Without waiting for any encouragement, she dived right into the next verse.
“The baby is borne on silvery wings.
To faraway Dreamland, the baby flies.
Fly away baby, fly away on!
Phantoms of fairies cross sleep laden eyes,
Visions of delight that sleep often brings.
Dream on, O baby, dream away on!”
Starroc seemed to be asleep now. Chrysandra decided to continue with the final verse just to be safe.
“And now the dawn is very nearly here
As Father Sun rides on through the sky.
Sleep now, O baby, sleep away on!
Hush now, O baby. Neither coo nor cry.
No need to wake, not ‘til morning is near.
Wake not, O baby, wake not anon.”
She stood still for a few agonizingly drawn out minutes. She wanted to be sure Starroc was truly asleep and not merely toying with her. After the span of silence, she felt it was time to make her move. Cautiously, watching for any movement from the dragon, she crept towards the treasure pile. Once she reached it, she stroked the coins and gems. The rustling and clinking of gold filled the room, but the dragon did not react. He must have been totally asleep by now. Knowing this, Chrysandra bent down and scooped up an armful of treasure. She whirled around and bolted out the door, coins and trinkets slipping through her embrace and clattering on the floor.
Starroc awoke to that clattering. His eyes followed the trail of abandoned treasure to Chrysandra as she vanished down the stairs in the next room. That vile, wicked little brat! She had tricked him and lulled him into a nap. Starroc roared and thrashed in anger. His bellowing shook the entire castle and the very earth it was built on. With a tremor following each step, he hoisted himself and stampeded after the thief.
Bits of ceiling came crashing to the floor, masonry crumbled from the walls, and an ominous rumbling came from outside. Whether it was from the dragon’s rage or pure circumstance, the castle was collapsing. The column of rock it was built on was giving way. The treasure, Starroc, and Chrysandra were all in danger of being buried and crushed in the bottom of the gorge.
It was lucky Chrysandra was holding a pile of the dragon’s gold in her arms. Otherwise, he would have blasted her to ash in an instant. As it was, he could not risk harming even the smallest portion of his horde. Instead, he had to catch her himself. By this time, Chrysandra had made it down the stairs and was almost to the next room. Starroc had no need of the stairs. Instead, he leapt down from the top, crashing into the floor below, causing even more damage to the already collapsing structure.
Now, the chase reached the throne room. She was almost out! Chrysandra could see the sunlight filtering through the gaps of the portcullis and the small crack off to the side. Nimbly she crawled through the crevice. That was it! She’d done it! She’d taken the treasure right out from under the dragon’s nose! No more would she have to live in that crumbling, old mansion and endure the terrible atmosphere of the forest. With the bundle of treasure in her arms she could afford whatever she wanted. The world was hers.
She was only halfway across the bridge when an awful clatter reached her. A mournful howl shattered her exultations and stopped her dead in her tracks. She turned around, despite the danger, and saw Starroc at the other end of the bridge. Far too large to escape by Chrysandra’s way, he was trapped behind the portcullis. Though he beat on it with all his might and blasted it with flame, it held fast. The gate must have been the most solidly constructed part of the castle. Even as the rest of it came crashing down, the gate remained steadfast and unyielding. And yet even it would fall as the earth beneath it gave way, crushing the dragon and dragging him down to the darkness below. Starroc continued battering the portcullis in vain, tears of hot rage streaming down his face as he howled and cursed his cruel fate.
At this point, most people would have turned away. There was no sense in trying to save this murderous dragon. Even if there was something to be done, the very land beneath them was falling into nothingness. Better to take the gold and leave. But Chrysandra was suddenly filled with compassion towards Starroc. Even though the dragon had done nothing but taunt and insult her in the few minutes they’d known each other, she felt intensely remorseful for the actions she had committed against him that had put him in this situation. Worse still, there couldn’t have been many dragons left then. And here Chrysandra was leaving one to die. That could not be.
So, she did something foolish. Turning around, she hurled her armful of treasure into the abyss. It no longer mattered. She had to work quickly to save Starroc. Back across the bridge she ran, back into the mouth of danger.
She crawled into the castle through the crack. The dragon didn’t take any notice of her. He only continued to roar and beat on the portcullis. In the gloom, she searched desperately for some device to raise the gate. She saw a lever off to one side, with a large mechanism of gears, wheels, and chains built into the wall off to the side. That had to open the gate. She gave the lever a sharp tug. SNAP! It broke off in her hands. Quickly! There had to be another way to raise the portcullis! The chains? That was it! She would have to do it manually. Chrysandra rushed over to the mechanism and grabbed the chain that disappeared into the floor. Like a seaman hoisting a sail, she pulled at the chain as hard as she could. It was a thick, heavy chain, but she could feel it giving way. The wheels and gears began to turn creakily. The portcullis was rising, bit by bit. Hand over hand, she kept pulling and pulling until at last, as her strength was almost spent, the gate was raised high enough for Starroc to worm his way under. As his tail slid beneath the gate, Chrysandra’s strength finally gave out. She released the chain, and the weight of the portcullis pulled it crashing down. For a moment, Chrysandra’s peril was completely lost on her. She could only stand catching her breath, watching Starroc’s silhouette through the portcullis as it faded into the sunlight.
It didn’t take long for her to recover her wits. She got out of the castle just in time, as the roof fell in behind her. But it was still too late. Even as she stepped out from the crack in the wall onto the bridge, she could feel the ground giving away beneath her feet. She screamed in terror. Down, down, down she fell, as the darkness began to envelope her.
Then, with a lurch, she stopped. Not only that, but she could feel herself ascending back into the light. Wind whooshed all around her, bearing her up from the abyss. She looked over her shoulder to see Starroc’s face looking back at her. He was carrying her in his mouth by the top hem of her jacket, like a lioness carrying her cub. Up into the sky they wheeled until they were clear of the chasm. Then, Starroc turned aside onto solid ground. Once he’d landed, he dropped Chrysandra onto the grass, none too gently but without causing her any harm. Then, he hunkered down on the edge of the ravine, looking morosely into the darkness below. All that remained of the castle was a part of the bridge connected to the land and a column of dust that was swiftly devoured by the autumn breeze.
Chrysandra wasn’t sure what to do next. Her first thought was to run away while the dragon had his back turned, but he had just saved her life and he no longer seemed threatening. She got up and approached him.
“I-I’m sorry about your treasure horde, Mr. Starroc.” she said timidly.
“Eh, the fault is at least partially mine anyway.” Starroc replied, “I shouldn’t have raised such a fuss with the castle in such poor shape. Besides, I should thank you for coming back to save me. I owe you my life, Chrysandra.”
“What are you going to do now?”
“I guess I’ll have to find some other castle or cave to stay in.”
“You-you aren’t leaving, are you?” Chrysandra suddenly felt a great deal of apprehension and sadness at the prospect. It was as if an old friend were moving to some far away city where she’d never see them again. “Why don’t you stay here in the forest?”
“Why should I? There’s nothing left for me here.”
“I-I’d be v-very s-sad if you left.” Chrysandra said, wiping away the tears that were beginning to form with her sleeve.
“Oh, come now, stop crying.” the dragon replied, “What reason would you have to be sad if I left? It’s not like we’re friends or anything.”
“B-b-but I’m not likely to meet anymore dragons besides you.”
“No, I suppose you aren’t. Still, that shouldn’t worry you. We dragons don’t make the best of friends anyway.”
“M-maybe you’re right.” Chrysandra sobbed, “B-but if that’s the case, then wh-why do I feel so sad?”
“How should I know? You humans get so emotional over the smallest things.”
“So do you, when you...when you got so angry that I stole a little bit of treasure that you de-destroyed your own castle.”
Starroc was at a loss for words. He stammered trying to come up with a reply. Then he nearly laughed in spite of himself. The little girl had a point. Indeed, he realized he had grown rather fond of her in their brief time together. Her spirit and wit had won him over. He thought there wouldn’t be any harm in remaining in the forest at least a little while longer to see if this child and dragon could get along.
“Oh, fine, if you insist. I’ll stay here.” the dragon sighed.
“Really?” Chrysandra sniffed.
“Yes, yes. But only if you promise to quit blubbering.”
Suddenly, she realized the sky was darkening with the coming night. Her mother would be worried sick if she stayed out much longer.
“It’s getting late, Starroc. I’m afraid I need to head home now.” she said.
“I’ll see you to the edge of the forest.”
“Oh, that would be nice, but what if my mother sees you? Aren’t you worried about anyone else knowing that you’re out here?”
“So long as they don’t come to pester me for gold, I don’t see any harm.” Starroc replied.
So, Chrysandra returned home from her treasure hunt. She didn’t get the wealth she was hoping for. She would have to abide in the old mansion and endure the fog of the haunted forest for the foreseeable future. But even though she knew she would have to accept these things she felt no dismay. No matter how scary the woods may be, they couldn’t frighten her now that she had a dragon friend living within it.