by K L Rymer
“Your accent is odd... It’s definitely not Welsh and least of all English. Thank goodness. I don’t need any English in here.”
I cackle. “Well, you mustn’t get much American TV then inside that head of yours if you don’t at least recognize a Texas twang.”
“Texas? Let me guess... Dallas? Like the Television series?”
I narrow my eyes. Oh, so he does see American TV then.
Suppose he needed some form of entertainment while he was slumbering for one thousand and five hundred years. Let’s just hope he hasn’t been watching any reality TV about the rich and famous for the last fifteen years. He’d never wake up again if he saw that dumb shit, and I wouldn’t blame him.
Just as I go to ask him if he saw the ending of Game of Thrones, he lifts his great head, and now I gaze up into the giant, golden eyeball of a dragon.
I spot my stunned reflection, but all Brynmawr does is watch me carefully, and I feel like a mouse under the scrutinizing gaze of a cat. His eyes certainly are catlike. His pupils are vertical, and when he blinks, they shrink, and it sends a shiver down my spine.
It’s like gazing into pools of yellow molten lava. Whereas Gwyneira’s eyes were ice-cold, Brynmawr’s are blazing hot...
It looks like I woke my dragon at last.
He leans closer and now his massive snout stops inches from my face. “No, Bryn the human... I did not see the end of A Game of Thrones. However, thanks for spoiling it. I can see the ending in your head as we speak right now...”
Oh, look... yet another mind reader. How nice.
I blink up at him, stupefied. “S-sorry...”
Chapter 19.
Well, I did it. I woke the Red Dragon before March the 1st, and I didn’t even have to take daffodils in the end
I mean Brynmawr of course. I woke Brynmawr.
He still refuses to budge from that spot, and his ass must be numb from sleeping on that pile of gold for over a millennium. I suppose he has a tough hide though with all those scales.
My next mission now—get Brynmawr’s lazy ass out of that cavern.
Myrddin was over the moon, literally. He disappeared to space and didn’t come back for days. I think he went on another one of his cosmic trips or something. When he returned, he handed me a long, silver thread and told me it was a cosmic strip.
I am to use it to tether myself to Brynmawr, so that way we become spiritual buddies. It will allow me access into his memories, and vice versa, and I’d never heard anything so cool.
The famous wizard is eager to reunite with Brynmawr. Unfortunately, the dragon wants nothing to do with him. As far as Brynmawr is concerned, Myrddin’s the reason Gwyneira left him. If the boy wizard hadn’t told King Vortigern of his and Gwyneira’s hiding place or “love shack” as I like to call it, then the silver-scaled dragon wouldn’t have had the chance to escape and leave Brynmawr forever.
In Myrddin’s defense, if he hadn’t warned the king... well, they would have mixed his blood with mortar to cement the fortress down.
So, Myrddin will just have to wait. I suggested he could go down to the cavern himself with a bunch of daffodils, and the wizard looked none too pleased...
It’s not nice when someone throws your joke back in your face, is it?
It’s true about the daffodils. Brynmawr is, in fact, a fan of the yellow flower, and it doesn’t stop there. He also loves pansies, lilies, snowdrops, and roses.
I can see why he and Gwyneira didn’t work out. Brynmawr’s much too warm and sensitive for an ice-queen like her. Gwyneira really does come across as one of those cold-hearted bitches who’d ditch a man for writing her sweet poetry.
I bet she loves herself a bad boy.
Not that she had much choice. The pickings are slim where dragon dating is concerned. Gwyneira and Brynmawr are the last two dragons. There are no others. Well, apart from the eastern dragons.
Dragons in the west are nearly extinct, and as a zoology student that makes me sad. I have a soft spot for critically endangered species, after all.
For the next few weeks, I learned more about Brynmawr, trying my damn hardest to not bring up a certain she-dragon, so that meant I had to button my lip about Mattie too.
At least we’re getting to know each other, and the dragon is rather curious about my life back in Texas. When I told him about my woes with my stepfather, Larry, he’d promised me he would burn him to a crisp if he ever mistreated me or my mom again, and I’d never been so thankful.
What a sweet dragon...
I’ve also learned more about other TV shows and movies that he likes too. Oh, and he likes anime, and I know I’m definitely going to get along with this dragon.
We could go to Comic-Con together one day. I can be Ash Ketchum and he can be Pikachu from Pokémon... or maybe Charizard.
That would be fun.
But first, I need to get his ass out from under that hill.
I sit at the edge of that mound of gold, asking him simple, yet stupid questions. Brynmawr curls up like a cat.
“So... which Frozen movie did you prefer? Frozen one or Frozen two?”
Brynmawr closes his eyes in deep thought. He keeps them open all the time now. They’ve hardly shut since I’ve woken him.
“Frozen one has all the charm. It was the first movie after all and the one everyone fell in love with. But Frozen two had more backstory...”
I smile. “I’m just envisioning you right now singing along to “Let it Go”. I bet you jumped right on the Frozen bandwagon when the first movie came out, hey. Everyone was singing that song at one point from grandmas, toddlers, and even inmates...”
Brynmawr releases a long, melancholy sigh, and I watch that plume of black smoke as it drifts through the room. “I suppose... it’s a catchy song. Please don’t start singing it, Bryn the human. I may have been living underground for the last one thousand and five hundred years, yet somehow it still managed to find me...”
I shrug. “Fair enough...”
An uncomfortable silence stretches between us again, and I’m dying to say something. Singing Frozen tunes at this point would be preferable. I’m worried he will get bored with me and fall asleep again.
“Don’t worry... I won’t get bored of you, Bryn, and fall asleep. Trust me... I’ve tried. I’m wide awake now. Thank you.”
I offer him a pointed look. “Is that sarcasm I hear in your tone, Brynmawr? And thank you for just calling me Bryn. I appreciate it. I’m more than just a human. Well, I’m part wizard too, but that’s beside the point.”
His mouth pulls up at the edges, and he displays his sharp teeth. It almost looks like he’s smiling. “I could always call you “Hill” if you prefer.”
I smirk back at him. “So long as I get to call you “Great Hill”. It’s definitely no coincidence that our names are similar, hey, Brynmawr... I mean “Great Hill”.
His intelligent, gold eye fixes on me, and I give an involuntary shiver.
“No. It’s not. As the boy wizard already told you, you harbour my magic after all. Seems fate brought us together. I’m still not sure how I feel about that if I had to be honest. You say you saw me in a font... back when you first enrolled at the boy wizard’s supernatural school. And that I tried to burn you... of which I apologise for. I don’t burn people unless I have a legitimate reason. Forget what those fantasy novels and TV shows taught you growing up. We dragons are not that brutal.”
I think back to the sorting ceremony, sucking in a deep breath. “That’s right. It’s that vision that got me sorted into House Mendacious.”
His brow rises. Well, Brynmawr doesn’t really have eyebrows, but a hood like a neanderthal human had, and I can’t believe how expressive his face is. Gwyneira’s face is the same way too; you could really see the hate she harbored for me etched across her beautiful, silver features...
“Mendacious? There is nothing mendacious about you, Bryn...”
I put a hand to my heart and gush. “Aw, Brynmawr... you’re so kind...
”
His eyes glow ominously as he raises his big head, and now his red face hovers inches before me. Once again, I spot my freaked out reflection.
It’s still going to take some time getting used to looking at a dragon this close.
His eyes assess me once again as his vertical pupils move back and forth like the pupils of one of those Felix the Cat clocks, and I’ve never seen anything so creepy. Then he chuckles, but it sounds more like a growl.
“There she is... that child again. You really were adorable... even if you were a brat.”
I smooth down the lapels of my blazer. “Well, what can I say? A toughie and a cutie, and hey... I’m still a brat.”
That mouth stretches into a toothy grimace, and I gaze at those razor-sharp teeth horrified.
“A brat you may be, but not Mendacious. You are a good friend... I saw it in your eyes. You took care of your little pixie friend after that demon broke her heart. Even if you were a little rough with her at times. That is not a mendacious person.”
I blush, playing with the seam of my blazer. “Well, if you heard her crying alone at night too... then you’d probably want to help.”
A sadness mists his giant, yellow eyes next, and I see that white film when he blinks, clearing the tears away.
“I know you want to discuss the Humphrey boy... Go on. Tell me all about him.”
My eyes sting as I inhale a deep breath. “You... you may want to be prepared. It’s a long story.”
Brynmawr rests his head on his shoulders again, tucking his front legs beneath his body in the same fashion as a cat, and now he looks like a dragon loaf.
Well, so long as he’s asking.
...
I’m in tears by the time I’m finished. I just told him about the night Mattie attacked, and how I’d almost gotten him out of his dark trance, but then the dragon bitch Gwyneira stormed onto the scene and swiped him away from under my nose.
I didn’t miss the pain and heartbreak wavering in Brynmawr’s own eyes when I mentioned his infamous ex The White Dragon...
He doesn’t say anything for a while. He just watches me cry as I bare my heart and soul, and I sound like that six-year-old girl he saw in my eyes. I’m so pathetic, it hurts.
Finally, he shuts his eyelids, producing a thick cloud of smoke. He’s careful not to blow it in my face this time since this cavern doesn’t have the best ventilation. In fact, it’s smothering down here, which is why it’s best I get him above ground lest I suffocate.
I need fresh air. We both do.
“I’m sorry...” he says. “She really shouldn’t have called you that awful name. Gwyneira always did have a certain way with words...”
I rub my eyes, peering up at him. “What? No! I’m not upset about that. She can call me a whore all she likes, I don’t care. It’s the boy I care about...”
One side of his moth stretches slightly, and he’s smirking now. “I know. I see it in your soul. You love him very much, don’t you?”
I hiccough, wiping my cheeks. “Y-yes...”
“But he broke your heart and betrayed you...”
“Yes again.”
A pause from him. “I know the feeling... but you’re much braver than me, Bryn. You continue to fight and persist on your goal of waking me, even if it means you may have to kill the one you love one day. While I’ve been down here for over a millennium, sleeping my misery away... You truly are a rarity in this world. Don’t ever tell yourself otherwise, but you are strong. Very strong and I admire you.”
I gape at him as stray tears fall down my cheeks. A dragon admires me... a legendary dragon for that matter. “You... admire me?”
His gold eyes peer into my hazel ones. “You’re an inspiration to us all. But me? I’m nothing but a coward. I don’t deserve to be on a flag... I buried myself away in the earth when things got tough.”
I shake my head. “You’re wrong. I think you’re very brave to sit here now and confess all this to me. It can’t be easy, I’m sorry... I believe you and Gwyneira were in love once, too.”
That sadness returns to his eyes, and now it’s like gazing up at pools of honey. His grief really does humanize him and sweeten him up. He’s no longer the ferocious Red Dragon that I saw in the font, but Brynmawr my new friend.
“Yes, we were, but she had other plans. She wanted to put an end to the human race while I wanted to help nurture it. I believed that if we worked with your kind, then we could come to some sort of agreement and live side by side. After she left, she joined forces with the Humphreys, and, well, you know how that story goes...”
I dry my cheeks and pat the pocket of my blazer. The cosmic thread lays curled up inside, just behind the academy’s emblem of Brynmawr and Gwyneira, The Dancing Dragons...
Brynmawr’s image on the stitched emblem glows even brighter when I’m in his presence.
“So... will you do it? Join forces with me? The boy wizard handed me this cosmic thread. He said it would connect our souls or something stupid like that.”
He blinks down at me. “There’s nothing stupid about it, Bryn. It’s a pretty reasonable request.”
“So, you’ll do it?”
He narrows his eyes, and it looks as if he’s assessing my soul for one last time. “All right... I’ll soul bond to you, Bryn.”
I grin, batting my eyelashes. “And will you come to the surface at last?”
A few moments of awkward silence as the dragon ponders my words. He doesn’t look too pleased. “Yes...”
My smile widens as I rise to my feet, pulling out that small bag from my pocket. The cosmic thread squirms like a silver worm as Brynmawr watches it with interest.
I pour it out onto my palm and the string coils up. We both lean closer. I can hear Brynmawr holding his breath so he doesn’t blow smoke on me. He’s so considerate.
“So, now what?” I say, glancing up into his honey-colored eyes.
Those honey pools never leave me. “We let it bond us, of course. Watch. It’s starting...”
The silver thread stretches, reaching out to clasp onto Brynmawr and I. One end attaches to my heart while the other latches onto the dragon, and now I gasp as a flood of images flashes through me.
They’re Brynmawr’s memories.
He’s frozen too, most likely seeing a wave of my own memories.
Well, I guess nothing is sacred between us anymore. After this, we will know everything there is about each other. We will learn each other’s hopes, dreams, and fears.
The images stop, and we lock gazes once more as I draw a breath. Brynmawr’s eyes... they are hazel. The same color as mine.
The dragon grins when he sees the expression on my face though it looks more like a sneer on that giant, toothy maw of his. “Dragon eyes suit you, Bryn the human. Gold. Very nice.”
I pull a face. “I thought you were going to stop calling me that!”
He chuckles, and I grumble, watching as his eyes return to normal.
Well, at least I got him on board.
Next step. To the surface.
Chapter 20.
It was a slow but steady process.
At first, I had to coax Brynmawr out of the cavern with a bouquet of daffodils, but every time he got close enough to sunlight he would balk and run back to his pile of gold with his tail between his legs.
I even enlisted the sweet Felicity for help, but she was too afraid of the dragon and begged that I take Damien with us too. Brynmawr wasn’t too pleased with having the son of the Devil in his hillock at first, but he soon got used to the demon’s presence, and before long the three of them were best friends.
Besides, both Brynmawr and Damien breathe fire all the same. I’m sure they will have plenty to talk about.
Thomas, Nora, and Jack came down too, and the dragon bonded with the three of them pretty quickly. Jack especially. There’s just something about the silent titan that calms one’s nerves.
I couldn’t keep them away, but eventually, I brought down Angel
ina and Zahara—the school’s bitches. Brynmawr rather liked Zahara’s dark attitude, but Angelina reminded him too much of the ice-queen Gwyneira, so the two of them clashed instantly. He’s very aware by now that it was her who forced me to disturb his sleep months ago, and now it’s like a whole weight has been lifted from my shoulders.
I still feel really guilty about that.
At least Angelina is welcome in the cavern, even if she and Brynmawr don’t get along.
Myrddin is not welcome whatsoever, and the poor wizard is beside himself. The dragon has made it perfectly clear that he doesn’t want anything to do with him.
It was Myrddin who made his sweet Gwyneira leave him in the end. Personally, I think if the she-dragon was going to leave, she would have found some other way, but Brynmawr is positive that Myrddin was the cause of their breakup.
Really, it was King Vortigern’s fault since he was the one who built the fortress on the hill, but he’s dead now, so that leaves him out.
I stand at the edge of a great, magical portal atop Dinas Emrys, waiting for Brynmawr to make his much-anticipated exit. The magic of the land has opened up a doorway to finally allow Brynmawr access to the outside world.
It is time. This is the moment we have all been waiting for...
It’s a gray, cloudy sort of day in the middle of March—that awkward period between late winter and spring where the weather just can’t make up its mind. We’re all wrapped up for the occasion, sipping at warm flasks. Damien heats up his hands and everyone huddles around him, and the demon has never looked so smug with the three girls Nora, Fel, and Zahara hanging off him.
Headmaster Myrddin stands solemn to one side, wearing his cosmic cape. He clutches his magical staff, and I swear he has let his beard grow out. Now he is actually starting to resemble the Merlin from all the stories.
Myrddin had to make sure humans stayed far away from the site, so he put up a concealment charm. The hill ‘temporarily’ doesn’t exist. Besides, if any humans do happen to see a big ass red dragon soaring through the sky in Wales of all places, then he can just erase their memories.
