by Aya Knight
“What a sick individual. That’s hardly a reason to loath all dragons. Jedah deserves a tortured death; one that leaves him suffering until his last gasp for air,” Kale muttered in disgust. “Humans…” He shuddered at the thought.
Thomas yawned—the time had come for him to return to his own home. He stood, gently brushing the sandy debris from his robe. He smiled at his friend, who was obviously upset with what he had just observed. Thomas rubbed his hand over Kale’s neck. The dragon closed his eyes momentarily, humming softly as he enjoyed the soothing sensation.
“Get some rest, my dear friend,” Thomas whispered as he rubbed his green eyes wearily. “I’m not going to give up, you know. I’ll find a way to ensure your safety.”
Kale huffed. “You worry too much; I’m going to be just fine. No human will ever take me down,” Kale lied. His stubborn personality would not allow him to reveal his uncertainty.
Thomas knew his friend well enough to see the truth behind those wide, silver eyes. “Goodnight, Kale.” He did not wish to argue. Thomas held his palm out, caressing the air with his fingertips as he softly recited words of ancient magic;Thomas vanished, returning to his home.
Kale remained at the cliffs, enjoying the cool breeze as it brushed his scaly cheeks. As he drifted to sleep, listening to the waves crashing below, he had no idea of the life changing event soon to come.
Chapter 2: Transformation
Two more months passed and Thomas continued to assess the different outcomes for spells he could use to protect Kale. Everything he devised thus far concluded with often disastrous results. In one scenario both he and Kale would die from the wrath of the general’s army. In the other, they managed to escape, but were then left with the constant need of finding large secluded areas in which to hide the dragon from the world—something Kale would surely be against. He was a hard-headed creature who always placed pride before logic.
Thomas began to dedicate a great amount of time to researching books and old scrolls with the hope of acquiring new spells. As each day passed, his determination shifted toward frustration. He knew time was of the essence, and yet the old sorcerer felt he was getting nowhere. Thomas began to sense the villagers had grown suspicious of his sudden change in behavior. Always collected, calm, and polite—he was now an anxious mess, remaining bottled up within his home, only leaving to purchase food and necessities. His hair appeared untamed and oily; his appearance unkempt, as if he hadn’t bathed in days. He knew he had to find an alternate method of obtaining information before time ran out. The moment had come to seek the aid of another.
Thomas knew exactly where to go—the home of a great philosopher and friend. If anyone could assist him, it was Rogerick. His home was a sanctuary to many old tomes; there had to be something hidden inside to point Thomas in the right direction. Thomas slid circular, frameless spectacles into the pocket of his robe as he exited his home for Rogerick’s. He was grateful that his friend’s house was located within the same village.
As Thomas briskly walked through the village square, many individuals stopped to stare. Some whispered to each other as he passed and young children pointed as if he was some sort of peculiar attraction. In the small village most people had known one another for many years and if anything was out of the norm, gossip would flood the streets.
I knew I should have taken the back route, Thomas thought to himself. But that would have taken me twice as long, and time is not on my side. He exhaled in relief as he approached the white stone home. The yellow flowers that landscaped Rogerick’s yard were an inviting welcome. As he reached out to knock on the wooden door, it swung open before his knuckles touched the surface. There stood a very weary-eyed Rogerick. He looked as though he had not slept for many nights and his usually well-maintained blonde hair hung, sloppy and askew.
“I was wondering when you’d arrive. Get in—get in. The last thing I need is everyone thinking I’m crazy too!” He motioned for Thomas to step inside, quickly closing the door as the sorcerer entered. “Just what is going on, Thomas? I’ve always been a good friend to you. Now, it seems as though you’ve gotten yourself in a pickle and yet you won’t even discuss the situation with me? Everyone in the village is talking about you.” Rogerick walked over to his bookshelf, placing his hands upon his hips as he hung his head, sighing.
After a moment, Thomas sat down, wrinkling his forehead in thought. “Wait a moment… How exactly did you know I would be arriving at your doorstep today? It’s as though you were awaiting my visit.”
Rogerick gripped a thick book within his hands, still disgruntled Thomas had not shared his hardships. He carried it over to an oak table next to where Thomas sat; ensuring careful attention to not disrupt the cover as he gently sat it down. Rogerick wiped his brow, taking a step back from the tattered, black book.
Thomas glanced toward the end table as he pulled his spectacles from his pocket, resting them upon his long nose. The book was mysteriously magnificent. Hand-carved symbols were engraved onto the leathery cover and in the center was an image of an oversized black eye which looked reptilian.
“A woman named Zasha delivered this to me yesterday; she said you would be coming today and I was not to give it to you until you arrived.” Rogerick crossed his arms. “She said if I dared to open it, she would turn everything I tried to drink into sand until I died of dehydration… What a foul woman she was. I don’t know why she chose to give something of apparent importance to me and not come directly to your home—I didn’t bother to ask.” Rogerick felt that questioning Zasha would have resulted in another threatened curse upon him, so he obediently accepted the delivery in silence.
Thomas quietly chuckled to himself. That sounds like Zasha all right, he thought. Although he did not know much about Zasha’s personal life or past, he had encountered her twice over the years. She seemed to follow trouble. He could vividly remember her short, wild, red hair which hung to her shoulders in tight curls, her middle-aged complexion, and the thick, wooly, black scarf she always kept wrapped around her neck.
“So, the old witch wants to help…or meddle.” His fingertips grazed the book’s cover, gently lifting the edge. Without warning the pages began to flutter, rapidly turning themselves. The speed in which the pages moved created a light breeze that sifted through Thomas’ beard. After what seemed like hundreds of pages, the book finally stopped moving. It landed conveniently and ‘oh so cleverly’ on a chapter about dragons—Thomas rolled his eyes.
“I can see this wasn’t planned,” Thomas emphasized the sarcasm.
Rogerick threw his hands up in the air. Thomas had never seen his friend this upset. Rogerick was usually a very collected individual.
“You’re unbelievable Thomas…Dragons?!” He brought a hand to his face, rubbing his temples. “Just what have you gotten yourself into this time? I know you’ve always been friend to their kind, but if General Jedah were to find out you’re interfering, he’d have your head on a stake.” Rogerick sighed in concern for his friend.
“My head?” Thomas laughed. “I may not be as fast on my toes, but this old sorcerer still has a few tricks up his sleeve. I’m not planning to be an easy target. Besides, this is why I’m not involving you.”
As Rogerick opened his mouth to speak, Thomas held out his palm to insist he needed a moment of silence. Thomas’ face crinkled as he thoroughly read through the page in heavy concentration. Suddenly, his green eyes lit up—he had found exactly what he needed. Joy swept through his heart as he felt a strong sense of hope.
“Zasha, I don’t know what you’re up to, or how you are even aware of our predicament, but I’m thankful for this,” Thomas muttered toward the book. He recited a section of the page repetitively in his mind, until he felt fully confident it was burned into his memory. He then stood, slamming the cover of the book down in excitement. “I have to go now, Rogerick. I’m sorry I can’
t tell you more, but please understand it’s for your own benefit and well-being.”
He bid his dear friend goodbye as he left through the oak door, heading into the bustling village. Thomas briskly walked toward his home to begin the necessary preparations. As he rounded the bend which led to the village square, a small group of women were gossiping loudly enough for him to hear. They were so engrossed in their conversation they did not hear Thomas approach from behind.
A robust woman with a round, red face gripped a woven basket full of clean linen in her hands; her laughter rang out down the narrow street. “General Jedah should be at Firehart’s cave by now with his men. The filthy nuisance won’t be able to destroy a single town after today. Give any dragon a chance and they’ll demolish everything in their path… Horrid things they are—good riddance.”
Thomas had never hurt a woman before; but if they had been alone, there would have been no containing the fireball which would have shot toward her frumpy bottom.
“Beatrice, you always speak such nonsense,” another woman in the group replied. “I personally think this whole war is foolish. I’ve never even heard of a dragon attacking a village in Ravondore. Besides, your husband wasn’t recruited as a pawn in his army, risking his life out there.”
Thomas had heard enough. He knew he needed to reach Kale—and fast. He frantically slipped down a secluded alley to the side of the tailor’s house so no one would see him conjure a teleportation spell. Thomas would only have the ability to teleport outside of Kale’s cave, his spell limited to places not enclosed by walls and a covering. Though tempted to test the rules of magic, he recalled the story of a sorcerer long ago who had defied the boundaries. Thomas quickly reconsidered. The other spell-caster assumed himself to be powerful enough to withstand the ill effects which would occur if one should teleport inside. In the end, townsfolk found his mangled body twisted in unnatural directions with miscellaneous objects imbedded in his flesh. He had met a terrible death.
Horrid thoughts ran through Thomas’ mind; his friend might already be in grave danger, or worse—dead. He waved his hand, softly speaking an incantation. Thomas closed his eyes, and within seconds, he vanished from the village. In mere moments, an apparition of his body began to solidify in the forest outside Kale’s cave.
As Thomas opened his eyes, he was overwhelmingly relieved to see no armored warriors. The general’s army had not yet arrived. Still panting for air after teleporting a great distance across Ravondore, Thomas ran as fast as his old bones would move toward the cave entrance. His bright green eyes widened in alarm as he could now make out the faint sound of marching footsteps moving along the main trail within the forest. There wasn’t much time left before they would arrive—prepared to slay the final dragon.
“Kale!” Thomas’ eyes needed to adjust as he entered the cave. “Kale?!” He could finally make out the black lump at the far end of the room. Kale was peacefully sleeping, ignorant to the oncoming threat. “Wake up! You foolish dragon, you’re about to sleep through your own execution! We’ve got to move—now!” Thomas shoved his hands against Kale’s rib cage. “Come on, you lazy dragon, it’s time to leave.”
Kale opened his silver eyes, shuffling his body to get a better view of the sorcerer. “Hmm? What’s happening, Thomas? Are you all right?”
“No…no, Kale, as a matter of fact I’m not all right. And neither are you. Now rise to your feet and let’s get moving.” Beads of sweat trickled into his beard as he continued to push against Kale’s side.
As Kale rose, they both heard a steady rumbling sound which grew louder with every passing second.
“They’re here?!” Kale exclaimed as flames spat from his mouth, impacting against the stone floor. “I’ll obliterate their flesh!” He snarled; baring his pointed teeth which dripped with saliva.
The footsteps suddenly ceased, insinuating to Kale and Thomas the army most likely stood outside the cave’s entrance. General Jedah was preparing his men for the attack. It would not be long before they entered Kale’s home.
Thomas looked up at the dragon and could see the rage in his eyes. The old sorcerer knew there were no other exits through which to escape with General Jedah’s army positioned outside. He originally planned to take Kale into the forest, allowing more time to devise appropriate actions. But under the current circumstances, he knew he needed to use the information obtained through Zasha’s book—and fast.
“There will come a time to be a hero, Kale—but now is not that time. Please forgive me…” Thomas pointed his fingers toward the dragon, lowering his head as he concentrated on the incantation he had earlier memorized. “Zaraba michelea itone motinar.”
His sweaty palm began to illuminate with a blue hazy glow. Thomas grunted as his hand began to shake, releasing a stream of light which shot from the sorcerer’s fingertips, striking Kale in the chest.
Kale arched in pain as his limbs contorted. His flesh was burning. “Ow!! What in Pan’s name are you—” he stopped short. His voice sounded different than before; it wasn’t as loud or raspy as it had been moments ago. Kale’s silver eyes grew wide as confusion, disgust, and anxiety overwhelmed his thoughts. He exhaled, extending his arms as he viewed his new appendages. Kale wiggled his fingers.
“No! No, you’ve got to be joking.”
Kale had become a human.
Chapter 3: They Stalk at Night
Kale pinched and pulled at the skin on his arms. “What have you done to me, Thomas?! Turn me back!” Without his shielding scales, Kale’s bare body felt cool and uncomfortable.
Thomas ignored Kale’s ranting as he turned to the cave entrance, listening closely for any sign the army was approaching. He could hear nothing, which told him the general had already given orders and the men were slowly advancing into the entrance.
Thomas quickly looked back toward Kale; his eyes wide with fear as tension struck. “They’re here—we must hide, now!” Thomas whispered while panning the cave for a good place to conceal themselves. By this point their options were limited. Had they made it to the forest, the task would not be nearly as difficult.
Kale, having a stubborn personality, attempted to protest against Thomas. “I’m not going to…”
Before he could finish, Thomas brought a hand to Kale’s lips, gently applying pressure. “Silant devorda,” Thomas whispered. Kale’s vocal abilities immediately went mute. Thomas discovered an area within the cave where they would have a remote chance to not be seen. The sorcerer gripped a hand around Kale’s arm, tugging him as he staggered on wobbly legs in the direction of a dark crevice in the massive wall. He pushed Kale firmly into the dark nook so there would be little risk of him running out to confront General Jedah. Thomas followed directly behind, positioning himself uncomfortably within the narrow space in order to tuck his body from sight. Luckily for the two, despite its outward appearance and tight squeeze, the crevice was deep and allowed them to tuck far back into the darkness. Thomas hoped they would remain camouflaged and go unnoticed among the many other nooks, crannies, and cracks within the cave.
Kale moved his lips in an attempt to speak, wrinkling his forehead in frustration as no sound emerged. Before Kale could create more commotion, Thomas pressed a hand firmly against his chest to keep him still. At that moment, the echo of many footsteps rang out against the stone walls. The army poured into Kale’s home, led by General Jedah. They watched as the army invaded the one place Kale had always considered his sanctuary from the bitter world.
Thomas was an amazing sorcerer, but even he knew there would be no way to stand and live against such a vast army. He exhausted most of his energy on Kale’s human transformation spell and even the simple silencing spell had been a great task for him to complete in his current state.
As the two watched from the narrow, dark crack, Kale felt a wave of fury run through him. He fought within himself to maintain
a hold on his common sense and not run out to confront the intruders. He was well aware the consequences of doing so in his current state would certainly ensure a swift death to both he and Thomas.
They watched from the darkness as a wave of confusion swept over the warriors. The men visually inspected the room in all directions. They had expected to be confronted by a vicious dragon at any moment, yet there was nothing in sight.
“Something is amiss. This whole situation is not right,” General Jedah muttered.
“Maybe it is a trap, Sir.”
Kale and Thomas recognized the rotted teeth, even through the darkness from where they hid—it was the General’s lieutenant, Saldin.
“Hmm, quite possibly…but doubtful.” Jedah rubbed his chin, “Firehart would have already made his move. Dragons are full of pride and would never allow a horde of humans to stroll into their dwelling without a sudden confrontation or consequence.” He began to explore the cave, taking note of every pebble and imperfection he saw. “Saldin—come!” Jedah motioned a hand in his direction.
Obediently, Saldin approached the General, following him toward the far end of the cave wall.
“Look at this, it’s fresh. The beast has been here since this sunrise; I’m sure of it.” Jedah tapped the toe of his steel boot against the lifeless, hair covered creature. The limp body rolled over and they could see a puncture wound on its neck that formed a matted cake of blood. “The carcass is still soft and tender; it would also appear rigor mortis has not yet set in. This tells me Firehart was here even more recently than I first presumed.” He turned to face Saldin. “If I were Firehart, and the last of my kind standing on the edge of extinction, would I stay and fight?” he paused a moment, “Or would I run? But how could he have known of our plan…?”
