Dragons: Chapter Three

Disaster

Quintina needed to get home for two reasons, one, her father wanted her for some purpose, and second, she might be recaptured by the strange man if she didn’t get home. The way back was a hard mile, and Quintina would have to go through the snake infested swamp, which was 15 minutes shorter than going around it. She wasn’t afraid of the snakes, but the mud got so thick and plentiful it was hard to get through. She needed to hurry. Approaching the swamp, she stopped. It had just rained the day before, but Quintina would have to take the risk.  Zooming to full speed, she ran into the swamp. Vines, hanging low to the ground, swatted at her, slowing her pace.

Quintina discontinued her running when she stepped into a mud hole. She yanked her foot out, but other foot was already deep in muck. The more she tried to get out the more her foot sunk deeper into goop. She bent down and unlaced her boots. Her shins were now cover in the soupy mud. Looking around, Quintina quickly spotted a branch just above her head.  I ought to jump up and grab that limb. Quintina considered. She jumped up to grab a limb, but the pull of the thick mud was just too strong. She fell flat on her face in the mud.

              “Siss.” A hiss came from Quintina’s left. Lifting her head, she gasped. Not a snake. How was she going to get out of this one? She was suck and covered in mud, and a snake was inches away. Encountering a dragon was enough for her. She turned on her head to face the snake.

              “Got you, there, Q.”

              “Oh,” Quintina sighed with relief, “As you can see, I fell into some mud, and got stuck. And I was wondering if you could help me out of this disgusting mess.”

              “Nope. I got to go, sorry,” Lancer, the neighbor boy, replied.   

              “Well, if you’re not going to help me, why are you going through this swamp?”

              “Same reason you’re going through it. To get to your house.”

              “Well, if you’re going to the house, why not help me get out.”

              “Can’t, got to hurry, bye.” With that he walked off. Quintina waited until she couldn’t see him anymore. Finding hard enough ground to do plant her arms firmly down, she then maneuvered in order to do a kip up. Landing on her feet, she investigated the mud stream for her boots. Deep in the mire she recovered two mud filled boots. Slipping them on, Quintina raced onward. By the time she reached the house the mud had crusted onto everything. From the distance, Quintina could see Lancer talking to her Father.

              “Quintina, that you?” Her Father’s booming laugh echoed in Quintina’s ears.  

              “Yes, sir. As you can see, I fell into a mud hole, and,” she looked sharply at Lancer, “someone was kind enough to leave me in the mud.”

              “What, you got out.” Shrugged Lancer.

              “You’d better wash up.” Quintina’s father commanded. “I need you for something.”

              Mr. Sigmund, Quintina’s father, was the only farmer on Ubartia. He raised his crops and then sold them to others. Considering, he lived on an island that had only a few other neighbors, he owned a boat to trade with fellow people from different islands. But lately he had a problem with dragons, occasionally they would come from there dins and walk around the island, mostly on his farm, destroying anything they wanted too, and nobody could stop them. Because nobody that wasn’t from the island believed him about the dragons, he had no luck in finding help. This annoyed Mr. Sigmund because no one else had these problems. Mr. Sigmund put sulfur blocks around his house, and they seemed to keep the dragon’s away, at lease for the time being. Being around dangerous dragons wasn’t a safe idea, so Mr. Sigmund thought it was best to teach his kids the art of sword. 

              Quintina stocked to the house to get clothes to bathe in the stream.

              On the front porch, Bonnie stood, taking a break from her “daily room cleaning routine” as she called it. 

              “You’re not coming inside, are you?” Whined Bonnie, her loud, older sister.

              “Yes, unless you’re willing to grab some clothes for me.”

              “Uh,” she looked closely at Quintina, “Sure, as long as you don’t come inside.” She stepped back indoors. One second later, Bonnie peeked her head out.

              “What do you want to wear?”

              “It doesn’t matter to me.”

              “Okay,” Bonnie left as soon as she had come.

              Quintina turned around and sat on the edge of the porch. Looking onto their yard, her heart quieted. The quietness was interrupted by bickering from inside the house.

              “Don’t come close to me, Bonnie, don’t come close to me! Help!”

              “I don’t care what you say. Come here right now.” Bonnie’s firm voice screamed back.

              “Mommy, I want Mommy!” Cried three-year-old, Crozet.

              Quintina shuddered and stood up. She rushed to the door and opened the it. Bonnie was cornering Crozet. For a second Quintina thought she saw a shiny glint next to Bonnie’s hand. Bonnie slowly turned around and whatever the shiny thing was gone.

              “What are you doing here?” Bonnie harshly questioned as she squinted and smudged her nose, all while Crozet came running to Quintina. “You told me you wouldn’t come inside. And your messing up the house. Get out! And here are your clothes.” She growled and threw some clothes at Quintina, forcefully.             

              “Is something wrong? Why are you acting like this?”

              “GET OUT.” Bonnie screamed. Bonnie reached for the door to shove Crozet and Quintina out. But was stopped by the firm grip of Quintina hand. “Don’t touch me!”

              “What were you doing to Crozet?” Demanded Quintina, rage filling her.

              “I said GET OUT.”

              Not wanting to argue any more, Quintina left. Quintina watched as Crozet ran off to their mother.  Why was Bonnie doing that to Crozet? What was Bonnie holding in her hand? Why was Bonnie so angry? Quintina pondered as she wandered to the stream. She walked to the edge of the stream and the fresh clean water. She unsheathed her sword and laid it on the ground. A shrilling scream pierced the air! Quintina jumped up and ran toward the direction the scream was heard. The urgency of the scream fueled Quintina onward to the house, where the source of the action had taken place. She reached her destination in the nick of time, too see her mother’s face, which was etched with worry, embraced with a sword, held by a ruthless man.

              “Ru—” Those words were the last of Quintina’s Mother. Quintina squeezed her eyes closed, not eager to see the cruel death of her Mother.    

              For fear she might fall on the ground and weep, Quintina turned around and ran. She needed to run as fast as she could back to the stream to get her sword, before her mind went blank with sorrow. Smack! She had run straight into a person. Quintina looked up to see, a man, no younger than seventeen, standing before her.

              “Hi!”

              Grief, confusion, and despair light Quintina’s face. Suddenly she knew no more.