by N. A. Hydes
“It’s a Wyvern,” he confirmed, looking at his daughter. “Maud, you have to kill it.”
Maud pulled the dragon close to her chest. “No, Fadres. Barry is my friend.”
“Maud, it’s a baby Wyvern. They are huge meat-eaters. When he gets larger, he will eat our goat, the town sheep, and probably people. You need to kill the thing.”
“But, Fadres…” Barry snuggled into Maud’s arms and fell asleep. “He’s my friend,” she said in a small, quiet voice.
“Maud,” her mother said, “Your fadres is right. Put Barry back in your bed. But tomorrow, take him into the woods and put him to sleep forever.”
Maud took the dragon and put him in her bed. As soon as he was there, she went to another corner in the small hut and cried.
Her mother went over and put her hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Maud. It is for the best. Barry will be a very uncontrollable animal and will only bring you sorrow.”
Maud was not comforted and stayed upset, crying long past when her parents went to sleep. In the middle of the night, Barry woke up. He saw she was missing and crawled to be in her lap.
The following day Maud took Barry in her hands and carried him into the woods. She found an abandoned stone hut on the side of the dirt trail that she had blindly followed. She went through the door and noticed the thatched roof had fallen through and lay in rotting pieces on the ground. There were broken pieces of pottery and an iron pot over a long-dead fireplace.
“This is as good of a place as any.” She looked around for a rock. She found a small one. She put Barry on the ground and held the stone over his head.
Barry, entirely trusting, stared with his deep blue eyes into Maud’s soul. She couldn’t do it. Maud put the rock down, picked up Barry, and petted his head. Tears were streaming down her face. “I won’t do it, Barry,” she confirmed to herself more than to him.
Maud gently placed Barry on the floor of the cottage. In a corner, she found a piece of torn cloth. Maud used the fabric to make a small bed for Barry. He was playing with a rock near where she had left him. He was batting it back and forth with his claws.
She picked him up and carried him to the bed she had made. “Barry, you have to stay here.” Maud patted his head. “Do you understand me? If my fadres or anyone else finds you, they will hurt you. And you and I,” she said, “are friends.”
Maud left, but Barry followed her. She turned, hearing his footsteps. “No, Barry, stay here. I will be back tomorrow with some food. Okay?”
Barry watched her walk off. In truth, he didn’t understand what she was saying, but some instinct told him she would be back. So he waited.
He played for a few hours. He chased a few bugs. Finally, he lay down on the small bed. The night and day were the same to him. Everything was always brown or yellow, but the air changed, and the noises were different. The difference between the farmhouse and his new home bothered Barry at first, and he found it difficult to sleep. When he slept, he missed the girl’s warmth.
The following day, Barry smelled her before he heard her come up the trail. She was out of breath when she reached him. “Oh, Barry,” she said as he leaped into her arms. “I missed you!” He licked her face with his red, forked tongue.
Maud carried him into the tiny house and gently placed Barry on the ground. She sat down beside him. Barry stood up on his legs and looked at her with his head tilted. “Look what I found you,” she said. She pulled out a small blanket. “I made it when I was younger.” She placed it over the old piece of material. He ran on his hind legs to the blanket and sniffed it. “I slept on the blanket last night so that it would smell like me.” He ran to her and pushed his head into her hand. “You are a funny little guy,” Maud smiled.
Then he sniffed bread and meat. He started walking around, searching for the food.
She started laughing. “Just like my Barry, always hungry.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out the leftovers. “I thought you would like this.”
“While you are eating, I will tell you about my day. I lied to my fadres and mama.” Maud moved so she could place her chin on her knee and wrap her arms around her legs. “It wasn’t hard to do. I had tears running down my face.”
She paused and looked at the sky. “It was hard to leave, though. I hurried to get all my chores done. Then I came as fast as I could.
“I’ve decided I’ve got to teach you not to hurt people. And then when you get older, you and I can live in a house somewhere together. What do you think, Barry?”
Barry didn’t understand Maud’s words, but he comprehended she asked a question by her inflection. He stopped eating and looked up at her. He breathed through his nose.
“Good. It is decided.”
Maud came back day after day, week after week, month after month. She even found ways of visiting him for short periods every day in the winter. She would bring him food, tell him of her day, and then teach him tricks.
But Barry was a Wyvern, and Wyverns weren’t farm animals. It wasn’t much longer after Maud’s dad evicted him that he understood Maud’s words. He learned about her mother and father. She told him when her new baby brother was born and when she had a sister. He knew she hated cleaning the small cabin but didn’t mind cooking.
After their discussions, she was teaching him her tricks, but he was teaching her his.
Soon, they understood each other. The training turned into playtime. Maud and Barry would go fishing in a nearby creek, which comprised of Barry diving into the water and bringing back a fish. Or they would play hide-and-go-seek. Barry would always win. Not only could he smell her, but being color blind gave him an advantage.
Barry had to sneak food, though. He hunted away from the village, typically wild bunny rabbits or boars. Until he required more food to sustain himself. He ate cows and sheep in neighboring towns. He made sure he stayed away from anyone who might know Maud.
Barry knew from his ancestors’ memories that he would eventually get wings, yet they still surprised him when they grew. He wanted to surprise Maud with the ability to fly by taking her into the air. He spent days of trial and error. Eventually, he learned to fly.
The next time he heard Maud coming for a visit, he felt his heart beating faster. He wanted everything perfect. Barry had taken another blanket and put it on the ground. He had picked some flowers she seemed to like and had them waiting. He was so excited that, at first, he didn’t notice the change.
“Barry, my friend.” She had a basket in her hand. “I brought us a treat.” Her posture made him think of exhaustion.
As she always did, she laid the food out on the blanket and sat down. At this point, he was a full-grown Wyvern, too big to lie on the covering. Instead, he sniffed at the food. He smelled something different and metallic in the air. He didn’t know how he felt about the change. Some part of him liked it; some part of him hated it.
“Oh, your strong sense of smell. I had forgotten about that. I am a woman now.” She gave him a weak smile. “This is why I have brought us a large dinner.” She showed him the food. “I have more news to tell you.” She glanced at him while sitting down. “My fadres says it’s time to get married.” She handed Barry a piece of bread. “I’m not ready to get married. Oh, marriage. We’ve talked about marriage. I told you what it was.” Barry remembered. He wondered if this meant Maud would leave soon.
“Yes,” she answered without hearing his thoughts. “I will be leaving soon.” He ran on his hind legs to her, knocked her down, and pinned her to the ground without hurting her.
She started laughing. “I know. I love you too.”
When he got off her, she changed what she was talking about to something generic. Tentatively, Barry sat beside her and listened. Afterward, they walked around together, Maud petting his head from time to time.
“Have I ever told you how pretty you are, Barry?” She turned and smiled at him. “You are the best friend anyone could have.” He leaned over and hugged her, hiding his wings und
er his back muscles.
He didn’t forget about showing her flight. He would take her flying another time.
Later, he curled up on the blanket she had given him in his broken-down home, very much looking like a dragon protecting his precious treasure. His thoughts were drifting back to Maud and marriage.
When he blinked, he could see her married to a man, her pregnant with his child, and Barry nowhere near either of them.
You’re foolish, Barry thought to himself, in Maud’s tongue. You’re a Wyvern. Your kind eats humans, not protect them.
Barry turned in a circle like a cat chasing its tail, trying to be comfortable. When the spot felt right, he closed his eyes, and instantly the picture of Maud married to someone else was in front of him. The thought hurt, and he cried out in pain.
Human-eating Wyvern or not, he had to do something. He could not lose his Maud.
Barry searched all the memories of those who were before him, his ancestors. There, in his knowledge, was the ability to shape-shift. For his ancestors, becoming human was out of the question. Unless, in becoming human, the Wyvern planned to play pranks or lead humans to become dinner. The knowledge of the ability was there, though, and they knew how to take the form. If he could become human, maybe he could give her a life outside of her home. Perhaps he could be her husband.
In his memories, this was also there, dragons who married humans. His ancestors specifically hated the practice. But he didn’t care what his ancestors thought.
Closing his eyes, he pictured becoming human. Nothing happened.
Trying again, this time he kept his talons and his lizard feet, but he had hair.
On the third attempt, he thought human, felt warm all over, then noticed human hands. But his feet were lizard paws.
Again he tried, the image solidifying in his mind. The warmth spread over his face and into his feet. This time when he opened his eyes, things around him seemed different. He was still color blind, but his vision was different. Objects appeared closer.
Barry felt his face with his human hands and could distinguish human eyes, nose, and mouth.
“Goo–, good morning.” Barry’s human voice startled him, causing laughter. The human mouth could say human words. “Well, isn’t this a wonder,” he said.
The sun wasn’t up yet. Barry looked around at his dilapidated home. He was standing near his blanket. In the corner, the thatched roof had collapsed. Barry needed to repair the roof and fix up the inside if he wanted Maud to call this home.
The wind blew, and he felt a chill on his skin. An unfamiliar sensation of goosebumps caused a smile to spread over his face. He could do this; he would find a way to keep from losing Maud.
Naked, Barry started working on the thatched roof. He decided it might go faster if he worked as a Wyvern. He worked as a human for finer details and as a Wyvern for the more challenging, strenuous tasks.
While Barry worked, he listened for Maud’s approach. But after she became a woman, she seldom visited. If Barry hurried, he could surprise her. Barry slept on the path she typically used. That way, he could cut her off before she made it to the abandoned house. He snuck into various towns and learned how to make furniture. He flew miles away to get the items he would need. He would do these secret missions, sometimes as a Wyvern and sometimes as a human, stealing clothes when necessary.
He wasn’t sure how he had done it. But in a few months, he had learned the human way of hunting, tanning skins, making furniture, and thatching roofs.
His favorite of his new human skills was making furniture. As a Wyvern, he would knock down the tree he wanted and use massive claws for whittling the furniture into something unique and beautiful. He thought it ironic; his favorite human trade was something he did as a Wyvern.
Barry had watched a market, where people from all over brought things to sell. He thought if he could sell furniture, then maybe Maud’s dad would let Barry marry her. So, after he finished making his house look human, at least in Barry’s opinion, he began going to the market that occurred every morning in the town square.
At first, getting to the market was a problem. As a Wyvern, he could easily carry the furniture to the market by himself. But as a human, he couldn’t carry it. His wheelbarrow seemed awkward, unbalanced, and often fell. His first purchase was a wagon and a horse.
Picking out the right horse was also an issue. The horses weren’t dummies. They could smell the Wyvern. Barry finally found a mare, who either had no sense of smell or just didn’t care. She was off white with a black nose and blond mane. Barry named her Buttercup, mainly because she was peaceful, like a flower. He then had to build a barn for his horses. He found another horse that didn’t shake in fear of him, and two barn cats. All the restoration occurred as Barry detoured Maud away from seeing the cabin.
In their talks, when Maud visited, she kept Barry informed of her dating. She didn’t have a suitor, and so far, no one had asked for her hand in marriage. Barry hoped his luck held until he finished his plan.
In the winter, Barry, as a human, made his way to Maud’s house. He brought with him two of his more decorative tables and some coins he had earned. Nervously, he knocked on the door.
Her father answered. He was older and looked less clean than Barry remembered.
“Sir, I would like to marry your daughter,” Barry declared, without even a greeting.
“Who are you?” he replied.
“I’m Barry, the furniture maker. I have brought you two of my pieces and some money for her hand. I have a small cottage close by and can provide for her needs.”
Her father rubbed his stubbly chin. “Do you even know my daughter?”
“I know of her.”
“I have heard of you,” her father said, surveying the cart of furniture. “Let me call Maud out here and see what she says.”
Maud’s father walked to the house and through the door. “Maud,” Barry could hear him saying.
“Yes, Fadres.” Maud appeared at the door. She was cleaning her hands on the apron she was wearing. “Excuse me,” she said to Barry as she wiped the sweat away from her forehead. “The fire is hot.”
Standing beside Maud, her father said, “This man asks for your hand in marriage.”
“Has he,” she said, inspecting the human Barry with her eyes. “I don’t think I have ever seen him in town.”
“I have seen you,” Barry announced and wore a mischievous grin.
“And why do you want to marry me?” she asked.
“And why wouldn’t I?” Barry responded.
“Come back tomorrow, and I will give you my answer.” She stormed back into the house and disappeared.
“I guess that is better than a no,” her father responded. “All I have heard her say so far is no.”
Her father moved over to the wagon. “I guess you should leave your wares here. You can get them tomorrow if she says no.”
“Has she said no often?” Barry asked.
“Aye, every opportunity she has,” Maud’s father answered. Barry clearly remembered that Maud had told him she hadn’t had any offers.
Barry helped Maud’s father unload the buggy and took the road back to the cabin.
A few hours later, Barry heard Maud approaching the house. He stood as a Wyvern in the forest, a short distance away, watching her approach. When she arrived at the cabin, she walked around, wondering about the change.
“Hello?” she asked from outside the door.
Barry wanted to draw Maud’s attention, so he intentionally stepped on a fallen branch. The soft crunch worked, and Maud turned to see Barry watching her. She smiled a sad smile that didn’t touch her eyes.
“Barry, did someone,” she said and walked towards him. “Did someone build a…” She took another step towards him. “Is someone living here?” she asked.
Barry wasn’t sure what it looked like for a dragon to become a person, but how else would Maud know it was him? He concentrated on his human form.
Within
minutes Barry, the human, was standing in front of Maud. Her mouth was agape.
“Barry,” she walked to him and touched his hair. “Barry, it was you?” This time, she was more demanding of an answer.
“It is me, Maud.”
“Barry?” Her hand moved across his nose.
“Yes, Maud.”
“How?” she asked. Her right hand moved to his eyebrow.
“All dragons can become human.”
“Why now?”
“I…” Barry looked away. “I couldn’t lose you. If you got married, I would never see you again.”
“You proposed marriage?”
“I am a dragon, a Wyvern, to be specific. Most dragons can take on a human form. Some dragons spend their lives as humans. However, Wyverns pride themselves on hunting and eating humans. So, I’ve broken my poor parents’ hearts by deciding to spend my life with you.”
“Food, aye,” she said, chuckling. “Is that what you thought of when I found you wrestling with the other Wyvern?”
He stood up straighter. “Maybe.” He laughed. “I was thinking of food. I’m continuously hungry.”
“You are always hungry. Are you ravenous now?”
His stomach growled, and they both laughed. “Not until you mentioned food.”
“I don’t understand why you waited until now to become human. Why didn’t you become human earlier? We could have played in the creek, or you could have helped me gather wood.”
“I had no desire to be human.”
“No desire?”
“You were with me. Why would I want to be human if you are with me?” Barry asked.
“The only reason you want to marry me is so you won’t lose me? Barry, that seems foolish. Marriage is about love, children, and home.”
“Marriage is a human term. I want you as a mate. And not just a mate, a true mate.”
“Marriage, mate, what is the difference?”
“A mate is for life, and it will be a long life. With a true mate, there is a bonding that happens. Your love will be for me, and my love will be for you.”
