La de la Tragantía es una leyenda trágica. Para contarla debemos remontarnos a una lejana época en la que un monarca musulmán gobernaba el pueblo jienense de Cazorla, desde el bastión fortificado que lo domina y que hoy se conoce como castillo de la Yedra. Cuentan que este rey, viendo cerca a las tropas del arzobispo de Toledo, ordenó a todos sus súbditos abandonar el pueblo para así evitar que se repitiese la matanza que dos años antes había tenido lugar durante la conquista de Quesada, un municipio cercano que los soldados cristianos habían reducido prácticamente a cenizas.
Al poco el señor de Cazorla quedó solo en el castillo con unos cuantos soldados, los últimos que todavía no habían partido. Y es que el monarca tenía un secreto: creyendo que en el exterior podría correr peligro, había ocultado a su hija en unas bóvedas subterráneas del castillo, con provisiones suficientes para aguantar largo tiempo. El monarca pensaba rescatarla cuando los cristianos arrasaran la zona y se marcharan. Por seguridad, no habló a nadie de su plan; este fue su mayor y último error. Apenas partió del castillo con sus guardias, unos soldados cristianos los emboscaron y, de una fatal lanzada, pusieron fin a la vida del rey. Este hecho ocurrió durante una fecha muy concreta: el día de San Juan.
De esta forma, las tropas enemigas se hicieron con el control de Cazorla, lugar que decidieron repoblar, y poco a poco el pueblo retomó la normalidad con unos gobernantes distintos. O, al menos, eso pensó todo el mundo. Abajo, en las galerías ocultas del castillo, la hija del monarca musulmán languidecía, viendo menguar sus cada día más escasos suministros. Pronto llegaron el frío y el hambre, y poco después la desesperación y la locura. Finalmente, tras varios meses de agonía bajo tierra en los que el tiempo dejó de tener sentido para ella, la princesa creyó morir. Pero no lo hizo. En su lugar, la febril mujer descubrió que en sus piernas, heladas y rígidas, comenzaban a surgir escamas, que se fueron extendiendo poco a poco hasta acabar convirtiendo la mitad inferior de su cuerpo en uno más propio de las serpientes. La princesa dejó entonces de sentir dolor, y su pena se transformó en ira y sed de venganza. Desde entonces se dice que la Tragantía, pues así acabaron llamándola, mora por los subterráneos del castillo de la Yedra, y solo emerge durante las noches de San Juan para devorar a los niños del pueblo. Los padres de Cazorla asustaban a sus hijos con este ser, diciéndoles que, si no se acostaban pronto, escucharían la canción de la Tragantía. Esta es un susurro en la noche entonado con una voz sorprendentemente melodiosa, el último vestigio de humanidad que le queda a la mujer serpiente, y que equivale a una sentencia de muerte para todo aquel que la oiga:
Yo soy la Tragantía
hija del rey moro,
el que me oiga cantar
no verá la luz del día
ni la noche de San Juan
Aunque la Tragantía es a todas luces un ser monstruoso, guarda ciertas similitudes con las tradiciones de mujeres y moras encantadas (que vendrían a ser las damas élficas o hadas en otras iconografías europeas). Se trata de doncellas encadenadas al mundo feérico de diversas formas como, por ejemplo, hechizadas para permanecer siempre en un determinado lugar mágico, generalmente un bosque, cueva, río o fuente. Para “desencantarlas” debían realizarse una serie de rituales en determinadas fechas, siendo una de las más habituales la noche de San Juan. Era habitual además que estas damas se encontraran junto a grandes tesoros y protegidas por reptiles mortíferos, como cuélebres o basiliscos. En ocasiones, incluso, ellas mismas se trasformaban en estos animales cuando alguien trataba de romper su hechizo. Este desencantamiento consistía a menudo en besar varias veces las fauces de la mujer en su forma monstruosa. Si a la peligrosidad que esto entraña le sumamos la fama sangrienta de la Tragantía, intentarlo con ella no parece demasiado aconsejable.
Sea como fuere, esta criatura ha acabado por convertirse en el símbolo de muchos pueblos de la sierra de Cazorla, y en algunos de ellos aún se pasea por sus calles la espantosa efigie de la Tragantía durante las fechas cercanas al solsticio veraniego. También existen seres prácticamente idénticos en algunas zonas de Extremadura, la “Caragontía” y la “Taragontía”.
That smirk. David, David. Hebrew, meaning "beloved". Maybe those dreams came from a misplaced sense of comfort - again, she felt trapped inside the horrors of being a girl, in that hazy and delicate reality with an unbearable sense of loneliness lurking beneath. Maybe she wanted to run wild, to let her crudest passions take over. Way to go, flirting with a vampire you only know through your delirious dreams. Something must be wrong with her, she had always felt that way. She truly hated herself sometimes. She looked away from him for a moment. "Yeah, right?", she laughed. "You almost made me want to be good for you", she chuckled. Ah, the bitterness, the need to be known and wanted. She stared back at him, holding his gaze again, regaining some courage. After all, he was not to blame for her own failures and fantasies. "So, what about you? I feel like I've been oversharing, I hope I haven't made you uncomfortable. I would love to hear about your dreams, if you are willing to share them", she smiled at him, and this time the smile reached her eyes. He was quite an intimidating figure in front of her, draped in black leather. How nonchalant he looked, lazily looking over her. Yeah, she really liked him, she decided. She also envied his strength, his freedom. And she knew this was probably the stupidest thing she had ever done. //// OOC: thank you for interacting with me, I have no idea where am I going with this but it's being super fun :)
David pressed his lips a bit and he tilted his head a little. She wanted to know about him, and to be fair he didn't know what he was supposed to tell her. His life was long and far away. He'd done a lot in his time and seen even more. He could write novels on it if he wanted.
" Dreams? " he mused quietly and tipped his head back.
" Im not sure you would want to know my dreams."
Perhaps they shouldn't have dreams any more, their rest deep and unyielding.
But David still has some.
" They are far from pleasant," he murmured.
David was a spoiled man at best most days. He got whatever he pleased from his sire. If the desire struck him to ask. And if getting it from his father wasn't an option then he'd find a way to get it himself.
But being spoiled didn't mean that his past went away. And his past wasn't a pleasant one.
Her gaze lingered over his fangs, although she only saw them for a second. This didn't exactly shock her - it was more like a realization. Ah, yeah, of course. Her dreams kind of made sense now. So it was not just her imagination running wild after reading too many Anne Rice novels. It was not the first time she encountered a vampire, although circumstances were very different the previous time she had met one of his kind. In fact, they had parted in friendly terms. This one, though, David... She still couldn't wrap her head around what was going on. Was he toying with her dreams? Or... Were these a premonition? Sometimes, she would dream things that came to happen in real life. That, or she somehow managed to manifest her dreams. Not always, but... She did have a strange talent for visions. She was attracted to David, there was no doubt. She felt this fire burning inside her the closer she got, the more he looked at her. She knew this was a dangerous game to play, and she was probably only being toyed with. But, how about embracing her demons? She had engaged in countless circles of self destruction previously. Something about giving that control to someone else was oddly appealing and liberating. She looked at his blue eyes, and held his gaze for a moment. Fuck, why was he so sexy. She nodded. "Yeah, it's a pretty interesting place. Plenty of characters around", she chuckled. "And then there's the whole Murder Capital of the World thing, of course. I'm a sucker for serial killer stories, not gonna lie. But it's truly interesting around here. All this people disappearing without trace, you gotta watch who you trust. Makes you wonder who your neighbours are". She blushed. "Yes... Those dreams were interesting. I liked them. I liked how you made me feel in them", risky move, girl, she thought. But what is life without a bit of risk and fun.
Ah if she only knew. They were the reason for the name Santa Carla got. But the world didn't need to know that. It was better if NO ONE knew.
Safer.
He pressed his lips a little bit, brow lifted. David was no stranger to flirting. Often enough he enjoyed harassing people in that nature. It wasn't like there was anything to be done against it. Or for it. Sometimes it was just a bit of fun. Lately though it seemed there had been an influx of interest. Local hook ups caused issues more than they didn't.
Still, he snorted softly at the admittance. " Well," David mused lazily, " I'm glad you enjoyed yourself. "
David smirked slightly, " could be worse things to dream about."
