No one in the Seven Villages had ever seen the dragon. They knew it by the quickening of the wind and the sudden purity of the light before its coming, and by the gifts it gave them—fire, death, rain, fertile soil, dragon-children. Their small lives rose and fell through its great one like sparks in a wildfire or tears in the sea.
When the wind warned of its coming most folk ran for the shelter of spring or cave. There were always a few who waited in the open, drinking in the rich colors of earth and sky until the dragon-light overcame them and they closed their eyes until the fire struck, or until the wind died down and the bright rain fell. In the following years these saw always the richness hidden deep in things, waiting for the dragon-light. And sometimes two opened their eyes and saw one another. If the two were man and woman the woman often bore a child nine months after. This was no shame to her or to her husband.
Such was the birth of Semon and Anele, twins born to Nese of Corle.
"Nese of Corle, huh?"
"And that's what happened to you?"
"Yes . . . "
"Dragons? You were knocked up by a dragon?"
"Uh, yes. Dragon. Just like Nese of Corle."
"Dammit, Mary. Fool me once, shame on you..."
Opening: Joanna Hoyt.....Continuation: Anon