Dear diary,
My worst nightmares, those I do not even dare to mention, had become my cruel fate. Where was I? Where was father? Who are these creatures that had adapted to live in this harsh, horrendous and not to mention spine-chilling expanse?
My bruised cranium was pulsating and an ache spread through my body like venom, sapping the last reserves of strength I had (which was very little). Pearls of water steamed down my cheeks, my sobbing was so weak that not even the gargantuan creatures; the two reptiles carrying my dark little cocoon, could hear me.
How had my childish joy been turned to sorrow in a mere heartbeat? Why was this happening to me? These questions, including many more, raced through my mind at blurry light speed.
I curiously poked my snout through the narrow opening on the bottommost plank of the box, wanting to at least smell what odour this expanse reeked of. The only aroma that my sensitive nostrils could separate from the whiff of rotten fish that radiated from the reptiles, was the aroma of something burnt.
Images of the parched and scorched ground, the cruel twisted and shrivelled trees; flashed continuously in my mind, already bearing the thought of what might have happened to the pack.
Afterwards, just from my sense of sound; the sound of the creatures’ tails levelling the dust on the ground, plus the smell of rotten fish topped off with the burning smell, that almost made me regurgitate, I started to paint a general picture of my circumstance.
Memories of my earlier childhood seemed to haunt me, the picture in my head was still blurry but beginning to focus. I remembered a history book that father had nicked from a human village nearby for me, but what did it have to do with my situation?
I recalled the book’s title used to stand out in bold: Lost on Earth, it was emblazoned on the front. I never had the time to read the whole thing, but it talked about a devastating war between humans and dragons, along with a whole new plethora of mythical beasts.
A part of the book echoed in my head: “The yonder cliffs, the site of the war was devastated. The land scorched and the air hugely unbreathable; the land scorched and infested by parasitic reptiles: the Misk’salnga. Their tails could level the ground, their glare petrify you to stone”.
Suddenly, it hit me like a lightning bolt: these creatures, these reptiles they were the dreaded, parasitic, Misk’slanga. Suddenly, my heart began to panic, thoughts ramming me every nanosecond; what were they going to do to me? Where were they taking me?
My panic was replaced by fear and I saw myself as anything but an intrepid explorer. I was deterred from my own safe place, that I visited often to get away from my problems, by a frostbite-cold hand running down my spine advising me of another presence, a soft and comforting one. A female voice cried out, “Help me! Help!”
to be continued...
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