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When happiness fade
Young Christian was born in a small cottage on the border of Sarrat. There, the forest was always green, quiet, and unforgivable. His mother named him Christian, hoping that her son would become a kind person something . His father kept dragons out back. he was a fair-looking man, but work was steadily working on his appearance, but still he kept himself in shape. He had a strange ability for calming dragons. Any dragon he came near would become tame. He used his ability to capture and raise them outside the cottage. They served a number of purposes: import, friendship, and in desperate cases, food. Christian was three years of age and old enough to understand friendship. He had birthed a friendship with the smallest dragon in the bunch, but his family’s food stock was running low. By this time his mother was pregnant again with a little boy. “Mama, the little dragon is flying!” He called his mother outside and they watched as the little dragon flew in circles. His mother smiled and laughed, and Christian himself couldn’t refrain from a joyous laugh. It wasn’t so joyous that night. The candle on the table would hold a flame that seemed to mock all of Christian’s worries. His mother was becoming weak from the low food ration and she was six months pregnant. He held onto his mother, letting a few tears slip. His father came in from outside, and was sweating from the unbearable heat. he saw Christian and his mother sitting at the table, both of them crying. “Rinne…you’re so pale!” he immediately rushed to his and held his hand. Christian glanced up at his mother and said, “Mama, please don’t cry.” His father withdrew from Rinne’s side and went outside. Christian followed him like the sweet little boy he is, and asked him, “Papa, where are you going?” There was no answer from him. He went to the dragon pen and carefully picked up the smallest dragon, whom had been napping with the other dragons. Christian’s eyes widened, and he shouted, “We can’t eat her! She’s my friend!” He ran to his father, crying with sadness and his heartbeats pounding, and he tried to grab the dragon from his hold. “Don’t kill her!” he cried loudly, “she’s my only friend!” “We have no choice, Christian. Your mother is extremely sick and malnourished, I can’t let this go on any longer!”
Life was unforgiving from the start. A few weeks later, when Rinne was finally getting her strength back, there was a raid on the small cottage. Christian was in his room when they broke down the door. They were from the main city, and were past communicators with his Father. They were Sarrat’s unofficial leaders. They sent raiders to do their dirty work. Christian rushed downstairs and saw the murdering of his parents Christian had traveled far, and had reached the top of a mountain. He examined his surroundings, the cold casting its chill on him, and for once he felt calm. But that calmness went away. A thief had snuck up behind him, and he blocked her attack with his walking stick. It had suffered from the attack, being cut in half, and now he had to act fast. The thief tried to kill him with her sword but he managed to dodge, but that had put him against a wall and nearly at the brink of death. The attacker tried hard to make use of the wall and hold him there, hoping to bring about a quick death, but he managed to stick her in the arm with the only knife he had on hand. She threw it far, and the sword landed near him. She ran towards him, and the only defense near him was the sword, and he used it to his advantage. He pushed the sharp tip into the heart of the enemy, and she collapsed near him. He was sure she was dead. He lay there for a moment, trying to take in what had just happened. He saw a small hut positioned on a hill, and saw it as a temporary salvation from the blistering cold. After a few moments he took a few steps forward, using the sword as leverage to walk, but sooner or later he collapsed from exhaustion.
Building a friendship
He opened his eyes and hadn’t a clue where he was. It took a moment for him to realize that he was in the small hut he had seen earlier. He saw an old lady handling the sword, and she unexpectedly spoke, “this blade has shed much innocent blood.” She walked back to the small fire and tended to the brewing soup. “You’re a fool for traveling all alone, so completely unprepared. You’re lucky your blood’s still flowing.” She handed him a bowl of the soup and he took a small gulp of it. “Thank you.” He said lightly. “What is your name?” she asked. “Christian. My name is Christian.” He replied, his voice still light. His mind was still in a haze. She sat down on the opposite side of the fire. “So, what brings you to the land of the gatekeepers?” she asked. “I…um…I’m searching for someone.” “Someone very dear? A kindred spirit?” she wondered. He halted, and then replied, “A dragon.” This was a surprise. Out of all the people that wandered to this hut in seek of shelter; he was the first to say he was looking for a Dragon. Those creatures were seldom seen in Sarrat. “That’s a dangerous quest for a lone hunter.” She said. “No, not really. I’ve been alone for as long as I can remember.” His mind started to reminisce the many years of loneliness, including that one day, back in the town of Sarrat, when he found her. He was rummaging through the alleyways for food like he had always done every morning. Nighttime wasn’t the best time for foraging. He pulled back a broken door and unearthed a few unfavorable pieces of fruit. The flies were in a swarm around the rotten food. He picked up a strange vegetable and sniffed it. It was the foulest thing he ever smelt! At that moment he heard a thud on the roof behind him. He climbed up the building to investigate and withdrew his knife, hoping it be a bird for dinner. But no, it wasn’t. A little baby dragon crawled away from him in fear of that shiny weapon he held. He was surprised at the discovery. A dragon, of all things, had crash-landed in Sarrat. He looked closely and saw the gaping wound on the dragon’s wing, and the large amount of blood she had lost. She screeched in pain, and deep in his heart he knew what she felt. He lightly shushed at her and inched closer. He held out his hand, and in response the curious dragon sniffed it. He couldn’t refrain from smiling at the little creature. She felt he was a very friendly soul. Christian brought the dragon to his home in the backstreets, which was nothing but cloth, curtains and drapes constructed around sticks, poles and rods, like a tent. His bed was soft and comfortable, but that’s all it was. It was not a mattress nor was it the type the rich folks used. He wiped the dragon’s wing with a cloth and pressed down hard to suppress the bleeding. The little
baby dragon screeched loudly at the pain and she even tried to leave. He held her tightly so he could finish. “Hey, hold still! I’m trying to help you.” After a while the dragonet calmed down and looked at him with big, beady eyes. He smiled at the cute little thing. When night came he placed a wooden bowl of water by a cloth bed he made for the dragon. She sat on her bed and he lay in his own. “Goodnight, Scales.” He said before retiring to sleep.
When friends are gone
Over the course of a few weeks he would help her slowly regain her strength. He took her out to the Barrier of the city and allowed her to hunt the small cattle animals that dwelled there. First she would chase them around, most of her attempts ending without success, and then she would begin using flight to gain the advantage over them. At night, just before the moon reached it’s waxing stage, he would carry her to the highest hill and tell her stories about how the pastures of Sarrat became barren. The stories were about an emperor from a rival city that used “turned” dragons to set the pastures of Sarrat ablaze. In the early mornings they would sneak into a private creek owned by the chief of Sarrat and he would watch happily as the little dragon tried to swim in the shallow waters. If there were a heaven in Sarrat, this would be it. As weeks passed her wing started to heal, and eventually he allowed her to sleep with him at night, and by week’s end the wound on her wing was nothing more than a scar. He held her little talons tightly, feeling a bit of comfort from the hatchling. She felt familiar to him… By Tuesday morning her wing had fully healed. So, they decided to test it out again. In the marketplace chickens were dwelling unattended. This would be Scale’s first time in the city streets. Scales set after one of the chickens, and it put up quite a good run. Christian followed behind and shouted encouraging words, “C’mon Scales! Get him!” The chicken hopped over a wagon, and Christian hopped over a barrel to keep up with it. The chicken started flying and Christian made a sharp right turn and quickly lost sight of it (and knocked over a box of apples in the process). He looked around and didn’t see the chicken nor Scales. “Scales?” He heard a loud squawk and the chicken flopped down in front of his. He looked up and saw Scales perched on a rooftop. She looked up at the flock of birds in the sky and looked back at Christian. He knew she wanted more. She wanted to soar. He ran up a flight of stairs to reach the top of the highest building in the city. Scales was soaring high with the birds and enjoying the feeling of the evening light upon her. Although he was breathless, Christian shouted at the top of his lungs, “yaaayy!! wwoooooohhhh!!!!” But the happy moment had become a nightmare. Christian spotted the giant adult dragon that suddenly appeared. It roared loudly and tried to grab Scales by the wing. She screeched loudly as she went down but quickly regained flight. She flapped her wings hard in an attempt to fly away from the dragon. Christian tried to hurry her along, “C’mon!” But the moment she reached hismthe bigger dragon snatched her. The adult dragon grabbed Scales with its foot and carried her away. Christian held out his hand in hopes of trying to touch her, and Scales cried loudly, also holding out her hand. The dragon’s tail whacked Christian in the back and made one last roar of triumph before leaving the reaches of the city. Christian
shouted her name but by that time the dragon was nothing but a small dot amongst the dawn of the setting sun. He looked on and a feeling of retribution overcame his. He left the city with only a coat and walking stick. The land beyond the city was a vast graveyard of dead trees and half-cut tree trunks. He traveled past the hilltops, using the walking stick as leverage. Night had become a passage into day. he trekked through the sandy deserts, the hot sun beating heat upon him and making it hard to see. He traveled through the lush green of a bamboo forest and jumped over fallen bamboo as butterflies flew away as he passed through. He made unexpected contact with a strange four-legged dog creature, and in a fight to pull it off the creature cut his arm. He braced the strong winds that dare throw his back, and his walking stick was handy in his hand. He sighed as he worked his tired body through the rain. Luckily the coat came in handy. He climbed the highest peak of the mountain and pulled herself up. That’s where the unexpected thief was waiting. That’s where the fight started.
Back in the little hut, back in present time, he laments. The Witch lowered her pipe and sighed a bit. “I have failed.” He said, his eyes on the verge of tears. “You’ve only failed to see.” Said the Witch. Christian looked at her with a dumbfound expression. She picked up the sword-stick and said, “These are dragon lands, Christian. You are closer than you know.” She handed him the sword and he gazed at the engraving of Dracaena Cinnabari, in other words, the Dragon Blood Tree. By nighttime’s dawn he set out to find the tree, using the Witch’s directions to find it. He reached the tree that seemed to guard the cave, and he took his first step inside. The moonlight lit the way into the cave. Glowing blue crystals had dominated the inside of the cave. He kept his breath steady. There it was: the dragon parent was feasting on a freshly caught kill. He crept atop a walkable structure and jumped down. The parent was still feasting and hadn’t heard anything. He saw his target. Scale was sleeping peacefully in a “rock bed.” He crept over to her and reached his hand out. The baby dragonet opened her eyes and screamed in fear. The Dragon heard the child’s cries and saw Christian intruding. Quickly it it’s mouth wide and blew a breath off fire. Christian did an overoll to dodge the fire and hide behind a boulder. The sword was still in his hand. He saw Scales run off, and he called out to her, “Scales!” The dragon parent peered behind the rock and he broke into a run. It jumped in front to block his escape route out and it angrily hissed at him. He saw Scales running from behind the parent and he shouted, “Scales! It’s me!” Of course, the dragonet didn’t hear him. The dragon screamed another round of fire at him and he flopped out of the way. It crept toward him like a snake waiting to swallow it’s prey. It lunged at him with all it’s might, and he used the sword to protect him. The dragon swung him around but he was reluctant to let go of that sword. He managed to slip it free and stuck the dragon in it’s head. It screamed and clambered backward. He jumped off and watched as it fell onto a pillar. He got up and tried to run in one direction, and the dragon swiped at him with it’s tail, but he backflipped and landed under the dragon. He slashed it with his sword but the dragon grabbed the sword with it’s mouth and kicked him away. He and the sword were sent flying towards a crystal. He tried to get up but was too exhausted to move. The dragon jumped into the air and landed to Christian. It glared at him, letting a few growls slip from her mouth. It felt something ting in it’s head. It lowered itself to sniff him. He gasped; it looked at him in confusion. He felt fearful that it would strike with a deadly blow or maul him, so he grabbed the sword. Her chest was perfectly exposed. He slashed her and with all his force he thrust the sword into her chest. The dragon screamed in fear and pain and ran backwards and crashed into the cave wall. He ran towards it with the sword, ready to strike a final blow. The dragon flinched, clearly afraid. His eyes wandered to the dragon’s wing, and it was then that he realized this dragon was the one he was looking for, the one he came all this way to reclaim. He began to see that little baby in this grown up dragon, but his eyes were deceiving him. She grew up without him. He threw down the sword in horror and disgust.
“Scales?” The dragon quietly coughed like a child does when it’s cried itself nearly to death. It let out a low growl, a death knell. “Scales?” Blood seeped from the dying dragon’s open wounds, and Christian saw himself for the first time in nearly four decades. His body had been ravaged by the distrust of the world, and his ruby red hair had greyed from years of searching. He did not know how long he had spent looking for her, and when he fully examined herself he was astonished and disheartened. It was a cruel revelation that he could blame for his faltered memory, and himself in general. Scales took one final, low growling breath, and closed her eyes on the world and Christian. He could not believe the path things took. She was gone from the Earth and his searching was in vain. The ceiling of the cave began to crumble. He looked up, and at first he couldn’t move his legs, but he managed to nearly escape the crumbling cave that forever sealed Scales’s dead corpse within it. He sat alone at the cliff edge, and recollected old memories and felt extreme pain at what he had just done. It was eerily quiet, except for a few birds squawking. She was gone; and he couldn’t believe he had killed her. He sat for a long while, the dragon blood tree behind him was still healthy and growing. He dizzily walked away and removed the weaponry and extra paraphernalia he had brought with him at the start of the journey. He wouldn’t need it now. The way back home might be less of a journey. He was unaware of the soulful castoff that followed after him. He was unaware of her (now) fatherless daughter that followed him++ home. She had no choice.
- The End -