by Sarah Hite
Kwan
“Hold still,” Ania said in a somewhat aggravated tone. She had been trying to open the lock that held the chain to one of his back feet, but the dragon kept moving. He was restless, he was so close to freedom. Ania was working on the only remaining chain on his legs, but he was making it difficult. She stopped and looked up at him, “Fire Heart, I can’t get it unlocked if you don’t hold still. I don’t have all day; I still need to go hunting or we won’t have anything to eat for dinner.”
The dragon stopped moving and turned his head to look at her. She let out an irritated sigh and repositioned herself to better reach the lock. She had started calling him Fire Heart months ago. She had said it was because he had an inner strength, the likes of which she had never seen. She said he had fire, and he had accepted the name without complaint. He watched for several long minutes as she worked at the lock. Just as she was about to give up for a while there was a loud click as the lock finally opened. She removed it from the shackle and then wound the chain out and through the harness until it was no longer attached. She threw the chain aside and sat back. The dragon turned around to look at her. She gave him a tired smile and he stepped back away from the wall. Now he could move freely about the cavern.
He turned to her and helped her to her feet with his head. She walked over to the stalagmite she had hung her cloak on and picked it up. This was not the same cloak she had worn upon finding him. This one was made of thick deer hides sown together and was lined with the hair of the deer it was made from; the hood was lined with soft rabbit fur. The dragon watched as she put it on and picked up the bow. As she went to pick up the rope, he stepped in front of her. Something did not seem right to him; she was moving too slowly. He knew she had not been sleeping well; her dreams kept her awake. Ania looked at him. “What?” He snorted and butted her with his head, nearly knocking her over. She realized that he was doing the same thing with her that Pai did with Stone, and she knew she was getting sick. She had not been eating well and had lost weight while caring for him, as most of the food went toward his recovery. She took a breath. “I’ll be all right.” She stepped around him and out through the passage. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”
He snorted. He was worried about her. He knew that she had put her life on hold, her health as well, he hoped that her leg had not gotten infected. He knew it had been broken, and she had not given it time to heal properly. However, it seemed to have healed well. She walked with a limp but it did not seem to bother her. He did not know what he would do if she got worse; he owed her his life. He did not know how he could repay her, but thought he could start with his name and by saving her in return, if need be. If only he could remember his name. He had not spoken to her yet, not that he did not want to, but because it hurt to do so. He had not spoken in over a year, and when he had, it had not been much. He knew he had to try. It was the only way to thank her. She had left the fire going so he went over to it and laid down. He thought back as far as he could through his foggy memory and tried to replay the events of his life.
He could not remember his childhood at all. He could remember being happy, but only twice. The first time was when he had managed to escape. He had met a young female about his age. She had helped him find food and shelter and, over the next few months, had often come by to check on him. She did not give her name but had used a nickname. And she did not talk much about her family but he got the impression that her brothers were well-known dragons, if not important. He had regained some of his strength under her care. He had tried to talk to her but ran into the same problem he now had, but she did not seem to care; instead, she helped him find his voice.
He focused on what she did to help him and managed a few words. He had not remembered his name until the day he left. He thought about her. She had spent the night with him since she had not been able to fly home. It had begun to storm and she could not leave until it was over. That night and the next morning he remembered vividly. He especially remembered the next morning. He had caught a whiff of a familiar smell and knew they were close. He woke her up and told her to leave; it was not safe. He remembered that he had not told her why she needed to leave. He could not spare the time, knowing that she would have been captured or killed had she still been there. As it was, they had entered the field the moment she disappeared from view. He had not been able to fly due to his wing muscles being atrophied.
It would be months before he would be able to fly again.
He had allowed himself to be recaptured so she could get away but she did not know. She must have been confused and hurt. And now, after Ania had told him how, and why she had found this cave, he realized that he had a responsibility to her, to their daughter, a black dragon who would be in constant danger of being attacked. She had Shaelynn, a constant reminder of that night so long ago. Even though he knew he did her wrong, she was his hope. She was what had kept him alive over the past year. Now he knew who she was. Now he knew she was in trouble. When he found out what had happened to her, he knew that he was partly to blame. He knew he had to find her and apologize. He owed them both. He thought back to what his name was. It had been on the tip of his tongue for months.
He thought about the other happy part of his life. It was not as cheerful, but it had been interesting and he hoped it would not end in a similar way. He had lost his first happy memory to men; he was afraid he would lose his second to illness. They had both helped him and were both willing to sacrifice for him. He was sure Ania would die for him if she had to. He decided to let her eat more today. He did not want her to be sick because of him. He had noticed how much weight she had lost while there. He knew she needed to be with other humans. He knew she needed other food. He had seen the meals of his captors, and he knew that the meat-only diet she had been on was not healthy for her. He also knew that she would not leave him trapped in a cave.
He sat contemplating their situation when he heard a familiar sound in the next cavern. As soon has she stepped inside, he took the rope from her and pulled the deer inside and over to the fire. He surprised her by this but did not object. She just followed him over to the fire and sat down. She was very tired. She reached for the deer in order to skin it but he stopped her. She tried again, but again he stopped her. Ania stared at him confused. He pulled the deer out of her reach and pulled one of her blankets over instead.
Now she understood. “I can’t sleep. I need to skin the deer before it goes bad.” He still would not let her have it. He continued to pull it away and push her back down gently. He knew she needed to sleep, even if she did not think so. She finally agreed and was asleep almost instantly. He turned back to the deer. He had watched her skin and butcher them many times and believed that he could duplicate it. It was time he started pulling his own weight.
He managed to get the skin off in one piece and laid it on a boulder by the fire, fur down. He then imitated her motions as he butchered the deer for her. There were some things that he did not do correctly, but it was not a complete disaster. He remembered there was water in the next cavern. He went over to the opening and measured it. He might be able to get through; he hoped he would not get stuck. He picked up the bucket and carried it through the opening. He was caught for a moment as the harness snared on a rock, but he adjusted his position and slipped through. He stopped at the water’s edge and looked up. He thought the opening in the ceiling would be large enough to fit through without a problem. He turned back to the water and looked down. He was shocked by his appearance. He did not recognize himself. He was covered in scars, burns, and a few open wounds, and he was very thin. He dropped the bucket in on top of his reflection, deciding that it did not matter, and fished the full bucket from the lake. He carefully set it down inside the other cavern and squeezed back through the opening. Ania was still asleep so he carefully carried the bucket over to the fire.
He looked around, not sure what to do next. He knew he should heat the water, but thought the wooden bucket would burn. H
e found a piece of a broken boulder. It had been weathered and was now smooth on the inside. It was vaguely shaped like a large bowl. He set it next to the fire, realizing that it was the same one that she had used to heat water when she had cleaned his wounds. He wished he could breathe fire. He knew the rock would take hours to warm up. He moved the stone farther into the fire and added wood so that the fire went around the rock, heating it evenly.
After a few hours, he checked the rock. It was hot so he carefully poured the water inside. It hissed as it touched the hot rock, and he looked up to see if it had awoken Ania. Luckily, she was still asleep. A while later the water became hot so he took the meat and, using his claw like earlier, he cut the venison into small strips and put them into the water. He found a bunch of long orange, and short round roots that were white and red. He thought that she must have forgotten about them. He had seen her eat them before and had always cut the leaves off. He did not know how he was going to be able to cut the roots, so he left them on instead. He decided to take a nap while the mix cooked. It was a while later that he woke to find Ania sitting up and staring at him. He looked at her and slowly lifted his head.
“What did you do?” she asked confused. He looked at the rock to find that the venison was falling apart and the fire was dying out; only glowing coals remained. He slowly moved the rock to the other side of the fire so that it would be closer to her. Then he surprised her further by adding wood to the fire. She was not sure what to do; she had freed a dragon and now he was cooking for her. She was sure she was dreaming. She saw the skin drying and noticed the vegetables mixed in with the stew. She crept forward and scooped out some of the stew with an old cup that had been left with the rest of the supplies from the outer cavern. She took a sip and was shocked to find the stew was the perfect temperature and rather good.
She up at looked at the dragon, who was watching her closely. He had the fire going again and sat on the other side of it. She smiled and asked, mockingly, “Are you sure you’re a dragon?” She took another sip and said, “Thank you, Fire Heart.”
He looked at her, his eyes dancing. She looked back at her cup but turned to him again in greater shock as he said with a strained, raspy voice, “Kwan. My name, Kwan.”
War
The kids joined Lord Ryell in his conference room. Lord Mychal had returned to Sheadod earlier that month. The lords had been planning something, and the kids were about to find out what it was. He waited until they all had sat down before beginning.
“We have sent word to Mactell. Lord Mychal and I are asking Lord Kayton to help us with something. I’m telling you this so you can decide for yourselves whether or not you want to help as well.” He paused and looked at Flame. He sat in the back and was slightly behind the others. Flame nodded and he continued, with a serious tone. “The thing is… we are going to start a war.”
Exclamations and protests cut him off. He had to raise his hand to silence them. Lukair asked, “Why a war?”
Ryell smiled at him. “We don’t want a war, but one is necessary. Vidar will not step down unless he is forced to. We have received word that a true heir to the thrown has been found.” This statement triggered another wave of exclamations. Only Flame stayed quiet.
Stone looked at Ryell, wonder written plainly on her face. “Really? Who… where are they?” Ryell did not answer; he was watching Flame. Flame stood. He took the medallion off and set it on the table. The others turned and looked at him. “You?” Tyanna asked incredulously.
Flame nodded. “According to the writing on the medallion, yes. The medallion and my sword were gifts from the dragon king, Moon’s father, after the creation of the alliance. When Vidar’s family took the throne by force, he missed the youngest of the King’s sons. He took the sword and medallion with him and fled. They’ve been handed down from generation to generation ever since. That’s why my father left. He knew the Vidar would be waiting for an heir to rise.” “
That’s why your mother had you learn different languages and fighting skills.” Lukair added. Flame nodded, “That’s also why I was named what I was, and why no one uses my real name.” At the inquisitive looks from the others, he said, “The name my father gave me before he left was Cainen Evander. After King Evander, and his youngest son, the one who escaped, Cainen.” The kids looked at one another. “Does anyone else know?” Lukair asked.
“Only the dragons and Lord Mychal.”
“Okay, so what are we going to do?” Tyanna demanded to know.
“We take back the throne,” Ryell said. “It will take months to prepare. There are supplies to gather, battle tactics to review, armor and weapons that need to be fashioned and repaired. We need to scout out the best places to station people and figure out where the best strategic vantage points are.” He went on to say several more things before they began to debate how to begin.
After the meeting, the kids went out and told the dragons what was going to happen. The three of them looked at each other. The kids could tell they were debating over what to do themselves. After a few minutes, Moon, as the highest ranking dragon, answered. “We will fight.” She spoke with determination and new life.
“What about Shaelynn?” Stone asked.
Moon looked back at the little dragon, asleep in the sun. “She will not fight, but she can help. She will stay and help around the camp while we are in battle.”
Over the next few weeks the dragons would put on mock battles. Lukair brought the book he had read earlier that year and told them about some of the tactics. They tried the ones he suggested and were intrigued. They asked him for more and soon knew every tactic in the book.
The kids trained daily with the other warriors. Flame started using a normal sword. He did not want his to give him away in battle. They had decided to tell a few others, mostly those in command of others, who he was. They were sworn to secrecy and helped look out for him. It was still winter and they did not plan on attacking Gunner’s men until the weather broke. There was plenty to do in the meantime, and they hoped Ania would join them before they left.
Unexpected
Ania looked up at the sun as it was beginning its decent. She looked back at the dragon, who was lying on the bare ground in the sunlight. They would have to start back soon. He was still thin and still wore some of the chains but was no longer bound by them. She knew she could do nothing with shackles, but she hoped she would be able to remove the chains from around his horns. A breeze began to blow. She pushed her hair out of her face and looked up at the rustling leaves above her. “It’s going to rain,” she said.
“How do you know?” Kwan asked.
“The poplars. Their leaves always turn silver before it rains. It will probably rain within the next twenty-four hours. We should start back.”
Ania had decided to go hunting that morning and Kwan had asked to go along. He needed to exercise and was strong enough to move about the chamber, so she had agreed. He was a small dragon, so it was not too difficult to get him back to the underground lake where he could fly out. They had traveled for a few hours to reach their current location and had crossed a large clearing to get there. It had been approximately three miles wide and five miles long. Firs, oaks, maples, and poplars bordered the clearing.
After a while they came to the same clearing. Kwan noticed that the poplars that ringed the field had turned silver. He brought this to her attention just as the wind began to pick up. Ania looked behind them, into the wind, and saw that the sky was very dark and foreboding. “We should find cover,” she said over the rising wind.
“Where?” he asked. “There’s no shelter around here.”
Ania looked around, “There!” She indicated the direction and he turned to see. There was a trickle of smoke coming through the trees before the wind swept it up.
They reached an old rundown cabin just as the rain hit them. There was a barn in back. She ran to the door to knock, but it opened before she reached it. A man with graying black hair and a worn-out expre
ssion opened the door. He looked at them with sad eyes but smiled.
“Can I help you?” he asked. Kwan peeked out at him from behind Ania. The man stepped down and extended a shaky hand. Kwan slowly crept toward him until they were a mere hands length apart, and then he snorted and backed away. He smiled and looked at her. “I have never seen a dragon, but I’ve heard a great deal about them. Your friends can rest in the barn if they wish.”
Ania led Kwan to the barn where she got him settled. It was dry and blocked the wind. Kwan settled down in the straw and nodded. “I will be fine,” he told her. “I think I will take a nap.” She left him there and went back to the cabin. It was warm and dry inside. There was a fire burning in the fireplace; its crackling was a welcome sound. Her host made a pot of tea as she settled in next to the fire. He introduced himself as Marcus. Marcus handed her an old clay cup; then, taking his own, he sat down in an old chair by the table. He studied her for a long while, then slowly and with uncertainty asked, “What, what um… what are you doing with a dragon?”
“I am returning stolen property,” she suggested.
“I see,” Marcus replied. There was a pause before his next words. When he spoke, there was emotion in his voice. It gave the impression that he had suffered a heavy loss. “There is an old saying that says, ‘Whoever steals from dragons, will surely incur their wrath; but whoever deceives and betrays dragons has betrayed everything, every living being in this world. For dragons will not stop, until they have their revenge.’ I find truth in those words. My brother made the mistake of angering dragons once. He did not live to make it again.” He paused a moment before asking, “Why do you need to return the dragon?”
