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Ragnar starts his temporary job with Dr. Patterson. The man sends him off on an errand in the central square, where an unsavory dragon comes to talk.
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Ragnar twisted and turned throughout the night due to Klipp’s obnoxious snoring. He ended up knocking his stuff off the nightstand. The dragon’s rumblings echoed and reverberated off the stone walls.
Eventually, dawn arrived. It was still dark since Quartz Quarry was an underground town, but the quiet streets began to come alive with business and people.
The red dragon stretched his limbs one by one. He felt like he wanted to stretch his wings too but remembered that he needed to take care of his injured wing. He reached over his shoulder and rubbed between his shoulder blades where his wings connected to his torso.
Ragnar rolled out of bed, quickly slipping on his bag and tumbling to the floor with a heavy THUD. The wall managed to stabilize the groggy dragon as he stood back up. His claws clacked against the stone floor, reminding him that yesterday was, in fact, NOT a dream.
“Klipp?” he called. His mouth felt dry and his tongue scraped against the roof of his mouth like sandpaper. He needed some water. “Klipp, are you up?” He couldn’t hear the snoring, but there was no reply from the other room. “Klipp?” He reached a hand through the doorway and peered into the Ground dragon’s bedroom.
Klipp was sprawled out on the bed, asleep and finally quiet. His tail draped over the edge of the bed and leaned against the wall. His mouth was cracked open like a deep canyon. His draconic lips were curled in a dreamy smile.
The hybrid nudged at the bulkier dragon. “Klipp. It’s morning.”
The large dragon stirred. His limbs all folded until he formed a tight little ball, which rolled off the bed. “Haha. Nothing like a good shake to get the body up.” The ball uncurled, revealing the sleepy, yet awake, Klipp. He smiled. “Morning, Tornwing.”
“Tornwing?”
“Yeah,” the Ground dragon lifted himself to his feet. “It’s my nickname for you.” His smile broadened.
The red dragon frowned, “Gee, thanks.” He returned flatly.
“Hey, It’s all in good fun!” Klipp replied, “Besides, it sounds much more interesting than that more human name: Ragnar.”
The dragon frowned. “I like my name. It means warrior or judgment… depending on who you ask.”
“And which do you prefer?”
“Warrior. I’m not one for discerning someone’s fate.”
“Ah.” There was a long pause between the two of them.
“Hey,” Ragnar asked sheepishly. “I meant to ask last night, but it was getting late.” He leaned against the wall, “Why did you lean into Slaktullr’s jabs at Dr. Patterson?”
The larger dragon scratched behind his neck. His scales sparked, the sound of metal striking metal ringing in the silence. Finally, Klipp spoke, “Well…because humans are a lesser species.” The red dragon’s eyes narrowed. “They can’t fly. They aren’t strong. They can’t even do anything particularly amazing with their bodies at all.” He waved a hand dismissively.
Smoke seeped from the red dragon’s back and nostrils. “Because we can’t fly?”
“Well, that, among other things we can do on our own.” He scratched his scales, which sparked again.
Ragnar’s eyes narrowed, “Just because we can’t do everything without tools, doesn’t make us lesser beings. We’re creative. We find ways to do what you can do with tools, with machines. Heck, we’ve made machines to do the work for us! We don’t have to be strong to be great. We’ve made flying machines. Made machines that build things. We’ve engineered massive and stable skyscrapers! Humans are resourceful. I may not look it, but I’m still very much a human.” His words dripped with venom, more than he had anticipated. “So far, I haven’t heard anything like that even existing in this world. If anything, humans are better because of their resourcefulness and ingenuity.”
“Woah there,” Klipp held out his arms in an effort to settle the hybrid down. “Humans are great, but when there’s only one or two in a world that isn’t built for them, it’s hard to get anywhere without our natural armor.” He knocked against the plate-like scales of his underbelly. They clanged like metal armor.
“Then how do you explain Patterson making it as a doctor here? I’d think that dragon anatomy is a bit more complicated than humans and people have to learn that trade for years before even being allowed to practice medicine at all, let alone rising the ranks and becoming a full-fledged doctor.”
“Okay, okay, I understand where you’re coming from. Patterson is a good friend of mine.” He paused, “But most dragons don’t. It’s not how our world works. You can’t tell me that humanity hasn’t had its fair share of bigotry.” Ragnar squirmed in place. “Dragons don’t usually see other Sapients to be as great as we are. We’re a proud people.” The brown dragon stepped forward, causing Ragnar to retreat into the living room. He rubbed the back of his neck, uncomfortably.
Ragnar’s eyes shone with frustrated tears. Klipp’s words had hit their mark. Humanity wasn’t any better. Wars had been waged because of the inequality between different people. People will always find a way to separate themselves as the best. Who wouldn’t want to be the best?
It never worked.
There was a silence between the two as Ragnar retrieved his things from his room. “I guess it’s time for work.” His voice was devoid of any emotion. The larger dragon nodded. “I don’t feel hungry, so I’ll head out then.”
“Wait up,” Klipp called, “I’m going with you to make sure you actually get there without getting lost. Plus, we need to fill up that waterskin. Your voice is sounding pretty rough.” He grabbed a bag from a hook on the wall.” The red dragon sighed, and they walked out, quickly stopping at a water pump and filling up for a long day of work.
Ragnar took a sip. The water was cool and rich with minerals from the mines surrounding the small town. It was good. He guzzled most of his waterskin and had to fill up again before they headed toward Dr. Patterson’s clinic.
They walked in silence, only saying a greeting to other dragons on the streets as they walked by. Soon, they arrived at the Quarry Infirmary.
“Meet me back at my place when you’re done. I’ll probably be done after you, so just make yourself at home when you get there.” Klipp called as he continued walking past the infirmary towards one of the small mine cart stations.
“Will do,” Ragnar called back, half-heartedly. He took a breath before stepping across the threshold, a familiar chime signaling his entrance.
“Ah, Ragnar!” Patterson greeted. “Nice and early. That’s good.” He motioned towards the curtained ‘room’ he had patched up Ragnar in. “I want to check on your wounds before we get started.”
Ragnar nodded as he sat down on the stone bed, his tail curling around his right side and into his arms like a stuffed animal to a child. Patterson smiled to himself and sighed. A brief sadness glimmered in his eyes. His gaze lingered on the tail being clutched in Ragnar’s rough claws. He quickly snapped out of it, waving away the mood like a pesky fly. He pulled up his stool and began to peel off the gauze from the dragon’s leg.
“Hmm…” he poked and prodded around the exposed leg. “Tell me if it hurts anywhere.” Ragnar nodded. He pushed several dark bruises along the way.
“It doesn’t hurt.” He winced, “It’s more like a really bad bruise.” Patterson nodded.
“That’s good. I won’t have to rebandage your leg. You walked in here without issue. I have to say, you’ve been healing faster than I expected.” His gaze rose towards Ragnar’s chest. “Spread your wing so I can check how the webbing is healing.”
Ragnar complied, and Patterson inspected the webbing. The tissue had begun to scar and turned a muddy pink color. “It’s starting to mend, but there is still plenty of disconnected tissue.” A beat, “You can close your wing now.”
The red dragon folded his wing slowly and stood up. “Alright, the checkup’s over, right?” The doctor nodded, “What do you need me to do?”
Patterson slowly rose from the chair and stretched his back. “Yes, I’ll have you do some shopping for me while I prep the shop for the day.” He rummaged through one of the drawers behind the counter and pulled out a bag of coins and a list. “I want you to get these herbs and other medicinal materials. Don’t try to get any prepared medical items. They’ll be WAY more expensive. It’s cheaper to buy raw materials and prepare them here. Everything you need on that list should be available on the lower level of the central square. Also,” he leaned forward, “here’s a crash course in bargaining around here. Never ask for the standard price. For raw materials, start with single-digit amounts per ounce and go from there. Above all else DON’T mention my name. Any chance at a bargain will be lost otherwise.”
Ragnar nodded and placed the items into his bag. The coins jangled loudly as he trotted toward the central square. The shopping went well! Despite everything going on around him, some small semblance of normal life made him feel at ease.
After he got the last item on Dr. Patterson’s list, he started for the clinic. Klipp’s words still echoed in his mind. Couldn’t they try to change things?
The hybrid snapped out of his thoughts when he spotted something out of the corner of his eye. Familiar black and purple scales flashed. In the blink of an eye, they disappeared.
He turned down one of the streets leading to Patterson’s clinic and nearly slammed into Slaktullr. He had a large bull wrapped around his shoulders with a scowl plastered on his snout.
“Um, hi, Slaktullr!” Ragnar greeted cheerfully.
“Hello, wildfire,” he replied. “What are you doing out on the plaza so early?”
The hybrid gulped. “I was just running an errand. I’m helping one of the clinics.”
The dragon rolled his eyes. “Let me guess. You’re helping that human because it’s the only work you can get on such short notice.” He pointed to the green-yellow scales adorning Ragnar’s underbelly.
“Hm?”
“There are less demeaning tasks you could do,” he scoffed, “not like anyone is going to give a job to a half-breed like you. Your flames aren’t hot enough for most Fire dragon work, and your wings are too small for pretty much all Wind dragon work,” he scoffed. There was a beat before his scowl degraded into a snarl. The purple scales on his bottom heavy body started to glow. He growled, “Why are you here, wildfire?”
“I-I—"
The butcher’s voice grew louder, “Why are you down here? Down in Quartz Quarry? Running away from something?”
“I—"
“Or, maybe you ran toward something. Running to a dreamy life out in the rocky fields of Terragon instead of the Aero Mountains or the boiling heat of Dragis’ ring of fire!” Several dragons in the square turned from their conversations and stared at the scene between Ragnar and Slaktullr.
The black dragon cackled, the low hum of electric energy filling the air. Seeing the one-sided escalation reaching a climax, several armed Ground dragons rushed forward and pulled Slaktullr away, immediately grounding the mounting energy. The purple scales faded to their non-glowing state as Slaktullr was dragged back to his shop.
Unnerved, Ragnar jogged back to Patterson’s shop. At this time, it was around noon. The curtains were closed with a small sign saying, “Out To Lunch.” The red dragon knocked on the stone frame.
“Dr. Patterson? I’m back with your materials.”
Inside a garbled voice replied, “Mhin heregth.” Ragnar stepped past the curtain to see Dr. Patterson eating a sandwich behind the counter. He swallowed, “Ah, just put everything on the counter over there.” He pointed to the counter below the shelves of medical supplies behind him.
Each herb and medicinal item was laid out in the order they were listed on the shopping list. “What now?”
The doctor swallowed another bite of his food. “Since you won’t need to eat till dinner, clean up the shop.” He pointed to a broom and dustpan, “use those while I finish my lunch.
Eventually, Patterson finished his food. “Now, we need to prepare these raw materials into a useable remedy.” He ducked under the counter and pulled out a massive mortar and pestle. “I have some recipe cards on the top shelf if you could get them down for me.”
Ragnar looked up, “are you sure you don’t want me to take that mortar and pestle from you instead?”
“No,” he huffed, “being a human in a world made for dragons forces you to be strong.” He set them on the counter with a thud.
The red dragon sighed and casually plucked the recipe card book from the top shelf and set it by the mortar and pestle.
“I’ll measure out the ingredients for you. All you have to do is grind them up into a paste.” He leaned against the counter and took a few deep breaths, “We’ll have to sanitize the bowl between recipes.” He grabbed a large jar of clear solution. It smelled like alcohol. “Luckily,” he huffed, “we only have to do three today.” The doctor flipped through the recipes and started measuring out ingredients, setting the portions beside the bowl for Ragnar.
“What do you miss, from Earth that is?” Ragnar asked as he began grinding ingredients.
The doctor sighed, “I miss a lot of baked goods, for one.” He chuckled, “The closest thing to a cookie around here is a vaguely sweet cracker. There’s no running water or indoor plumbing. Or…at least in the towns that I’ve been to. I’m sure the Water dragons have a robust water system, but I’ve never been.”
He stared into the middle distance, the same somber mood looming over his head. His eyes shone with mounting tears.
“But most of all, I miss my family. I miss my wife and our son, our home out in the Rockies. It was beautiful.” A tear fell down his cheek, “I… I miss the people. Sure, we have our fair share of social issues, but we grew past a lot of them. Most folks were a lot friendlier than most of the dragons I’ve met since I got stuck here.” He waved away the somber mood again, “What do you miss?”
Ragnar stood there a moment, “I miss…my humanity. Even now, I struggle to consider myself a human, like, inside. I already find myself referring to you as a human, but so much for myself. I feel strong, but does it matter when I feel my empathy slipping away?” He stopped mixing the ingredients. “I feel mad. More than I think I should. I don’t know. It feels like it’s harder to keep a grip on my emotions.” He scoffed, “It almost feels like I’m back in high school.”
“I…couldn’t imagine.” Patterson replied, “I couldn’t imagine losing my ability to feel for others and share their pain. So much of the human experience is spending time with others.” Patterson paused a beat as Ragnar scooped out a green paste and carried the mortar and pestle underneath a small water pump in the shop to rinse off and clean the bowl.
The doctor dipped a towel into the jar of sanitizer and handed it to Ragnar. “Now that we’re together, we can’t separate, for risk of losing ourselves to this unforgiving world.” He bit his lip, “We could go home.”
Ragnar’s mind was miles away. How can I go home when I look like a monster?
The two continued to work in silence for the remainder of the recipes. Later, Patterson had Ragnar take inventory of the medicines and supplies in the shop. The dragon noticed the customers that came in would stare at him or glance at him with a look of disdain. Before long, the workday was finally over. Patterson waved goodbye as Ragnar returned to Klipp’s place.
As expected, Klipp wasn’t there, so Ragnar just sat on the stone couch. He stretched and spread his limbs across the whole thing, like a spider, quickly falling asleep for a quick nap.
An hour later, Klipp arrived with more groceries for tonight’s meal. The Earth dragon prepared the food.
After dinner, Klipp pulled the red dragon out to start doing some physical therapy and build up the muscle memory for taking off. Ragnar had to do 2 sets of 50 reps, leaving his shoulder sore.
Exhausted, Ragnar plopped onto the stone bed and quickly fell asleep.
<<< PREV | FIRST | NEXT >>>
Chapter 4: First Day in a New Life
Written by: Ryker-Wolf
[/b][/color]Ragnar twisted and turned throughout the night due to Klipp’s obnoxious snoring. He ended up knocking his stuff off the nightstand. The dragon’s rumblings echoed and reverberated off the stone walls.
Eventually, dawn arrived. It was still dark since Quartz Quarry was an underground town, but the quiet streets began to come alive with business and people.
The red dragon stretched his limbs one by one. He felt like he wanted to stretch his wings too but remembered that he needed to take care of his injured wing. He reached over his shoulder and rubbed between his shoulder blades where his wings connected to his torso.
Ragnar rolled out of bed, quickly slipping on his bag and tumbling to the floor with a heavy THUD. The wall managed to stabilize the groggy dragon as he stood back up. His claws clacked against the stone floor, reminding him that yesterday was, in fact, NOT a dream.
“Klipp?” he called. His mouth felt dry and his tongue scraped against the roof of his mouth like sandpaper. He needed some water. “Klipp, are you up?” He couldn’t hear the snoring, but there was no reply from the other room. “Klipp?” He reached a hand through the doorway and peered into the Ground dragon’s bedroom.
Klipp was sprawled out on the bed, asleep and finally quiet. His tail draped over the edge of the bed and leaned against the wall. His mouth was cracked open like a deep canyon. His draconic lips were curled in a dreamy smile.
The hybrid nudged at the bulkier dragon. “Klipp. It’s morning.”
The large dragon stirred. His limbs all folded until he formed a tight little ball, which rolled off the bed. “Haha. Nothing like a good shake to get the body up.” The ball uncurled, revealing the sleepy, yet awake, Klipp. He smiled. “Morning, Tornwing.”
“Tornwing?”
“Yeah,” the Ground dragon lifted himself to his feet. “It’s my nickname for you.” His smile broadened.
The red dragon frowned, “Gee, thanks.” He returned flatly.
“Hey, It’s all in good fun!” Klipp replied, “Besides, it sounds much more interesting than that more human name: Ragnar.”
The dragon frowned. “I like my name. It means warrior or judgment… depending on who you ask.”
“And which do you prefer?”
“Warrior. I’m not one for discerning someone’s fate.”
“Ah.” There was a long pause between the two of them.
“Hey,” Ragnar asked sheepishly. “I meant to ask last night, but it was getting late.” He leaned against the wall, “Why did you lean into Slaktullr’s jabs at Dr. Patterson?”
The larger dragon scratched behind his neck. His scales sparked, the sound of metal striking metal ringing in the silence. Finally, Klipp spoke, “Well…because humans are a lesser species.” The red dragon’s eyes narrowed. “They can’t fly. They aren’t strong. They can’t even do anything particularly amazing with their bodies at all.” He waved a hand dismissively.
Smoke seeped from the red dragon’s back and nostrils. “Because we can’t fly?”
“Well, that, among other things we can do on our own.” He scratched his scales, which sparked again.
Ragnar’s eyes narrowed, “Just because we can’t do everything without tools, doesn’t make us lesser beings. We’re creative. We find ways to do what you can do with tools, with machines. Heck, we’ve made machines to do the work for us! We don’t have to be strong to be great. We’ve made flying machines. Made machines that build things. We’ve engineered massive and stable skyscrapers! Humans are resourceful. I may not look it, but I’m still very much a human.” His words dripped with venom, more than he had anticipated. “So far, I haven’t heard anything like that even existing in this world. If anything, humans are better because of their resourcefulness and ingenuity.”
“Woah there,” Klipp held out his arms in an effort to settle the hybrid down. “Humans are great, but when there’s only one or two in a world that isn’t built for them, it’s hard to get anywhere without our natural armor.” He knocked against the plate-like scales of his underbelly. They clanged like metal armor.
“Then how do you explain Patterson making it as a doctor here? I’d think that dragon anatomy is a bit more complicated than humans and people have to learn that trade for years before even being allowed to practice medicine at all, let alone rising the ranks and becoming a full-fledged doctor.”
“Okay, okay, I understand where you’re coming from. Patterson is a good friend of mine.” He paused, “But most dragons don’t. It’s not how our world works. You can’t tell me that humanity hasn’t had its fair share of bigotry.” Ragnar squirmed in place. “Dragons don’t usually see other Sapients to be as great as we are. We’re a proud people.” The brown dragon stepped forward, causing Ragnar to retreat into the living room. He rubbed the back of his neck, uncomfortably.
Ragnar’s eyes shone with frustrated tears. Klipp’s words had hit their mark. Humanity wasn’t any better. Wars had been waged because of the inequality between different people. People will always find a way to separate themselves as the best. Who wouldn’t want to be the best?
It never worked.
There was a silence between the two as Ragnar retrieved his things from his room. “I guess it’s time for work.” His voice was devoid of any emotion. The larger dragon nodded. “I don’t feel hungry, so I’ll head out then.”
“Wait up,” Klipp called, “I’m going with you to make sure you actually get there without getting lost. Plus, we need to fill up that waterskin. Your voice is sounding pretty rough.” He grabbed a bag from a hook on the wall.” The red dragon sighed, and they walked out, quickly stopping at a water pump and filling up for a long day of work.
Ragnar took a sip. The water was cool and rich with minerals from the mines surrounding the small town. It was good. He guzzled most of his waterskin and had to fill up again before they headed toward Dr. Patterson’s clinic.
They walked in silence, only saying a greeting to other dragons on the streets as they walked by. Soon, they arrived at the Quarry Infirmary.
“Meet me back at my place when you’re done. I’ll probably be done after you, so just make yourself at home when you get there.” Klipp called as he continued walking past the infirmary towards one of the small mine cart stations.
“Will do,” Ragnar called back, half-heartedly. He took a breath before stepping across the threshold, a familiar chime signaling his entrance.
“Ah, Ragnar!” Patterson greeted. “Nice and early. That’s good.” He motioned towards the curtained ‘room’ he had patched up Ragnar in. “I want to check on your wounds before we get started.”
Ragnar nodded as he sat down on the stone bed, his tail curling around his right side and into his arms like a stuffed animal to a child. Patterson smiled to himself and sighed. A brief sadness glimmered in his eyes. His gaze lingered on the tail being clutched in Ragnar’s rough claws. He quickly snapped out of it, waving away the mood like a pesky fly. He pulled up his stool and began to peel off the gauze from the dragon’s leg.
“Hmm…” he poked and prodded around the exposed leg. “Tell me if it hurts anywhere.” Ragnar nodded. He pushed several dark bruises along the way.
“It doesn’t hurt.” He winced, “It’s more like a really bad bruise.” Patterson nodded.
“That’s good. I won’t have to rebandage your leg. You walked in here without issue. I have to say, you’ve been healing faster than I expected.” His gaze rose towards Ragnar’s chest. “Spread your wing so I can check how the webbing is healing.”
Ragnar complied, and Patterson inspected the webbing. The tissue had begun to scar and turned a muddy pink color. “It’s starting to mend, but there is still plenty of disconnected tissue.” A beat, “You can close your wing now.”
The red dragon folded his wing slowly and stood up. “Alright, the checkup’s over, right?” The doctor nodded, “What do you need me to do?”
Patterson slowly rose from the chair and stretched his back. “Yes, I’ll have you do some shopping for me while I prep the shop for the day.” He rummaged through one of the drawers behind the counter and pulled out a bag of coins and a list. “I want you to get these herbs and other medicinal materials. Don’t try to get any prepared medical items. They’ll be WAY more expensive. It’s cheaper to buy raw materials and prepare them here. Everything you need on that list should be available on the lower level of the central square. Also,” he leaned forward, “here’s a crash course in bargaining around here. Never ask for the standard price. For raw materials, start with single-digit amounts per ounce and go from there. Above all else DON’T mention my name. Any chance at a bargain will be lost otherwise.”
Ragnar nodded and placed the items into his bag. The coins jangled loudly as he trotted toward the central square. The shopping went well! Despite everything going on around him, some small semblance of normal life made him feel at ease.
After he got the last item on Dr. Patterson’s list, he started for the clinic. Klipp’s words still echoed in his mind. Couldn’t they try to change things?
The hybrid snapped out of his thoughts when he spotted something out of the corner of his eye. Familiar black and purple scales flashed. In the blink of an eye, they disappeared.
He turned down one of the streets leading to Patterson’s clinic and nearly slammed into Slaktullr. He had a large bull wrapped around his shoulders with a scowl plastered on his snout.
“Um, hi, Slaktullr!” Ragnar greeted cheerfully.
“Hello, wildfire,” he replied. “What are you doing out on the plaza so early?”
The hybrid gulped. “I was just running an errand. I’m helping one of the clinics.”
The dragon rolled his eyes. “Let me guess. You’re helping that human because it’s the only work you can get on such short notice.” He pointed to the green-yellow scales adorning Ragnar’s underbelly.
“Hm?”
“There are less demeaning tasks you could do,” he scoffed, “not like anyone is going to give a job to a half-breed like you. Your flames aren’t hot enough for most Fire dragon work, and your wings are too small for pretty much all Wind dragon work,” he scoffed. There was a beat before his scowl degraded into a snarl. The purple scales on his bottom heavy body started to glow. He growled, “Why are you here, wildfire?”
“I-I—"
The butcher’s voice grew louder, “Why are you down here? Down in Quartz Quarry? Running away from something?”
“I—"
“Or, maybe you ran toward something. Running to a dreamy life out in the rocky fields of Terragon instead of the Aero Mountains or the boiling heat of Dragis’ ring of fire!” Several dragons in the square turned from their conversations and stared at the scene between Ragnar and Slaktullr.
The black dragon cackled, the low hum of electric energy filling the air. Seeing the one-sided escalation reaching a climax, several armed Ground dragons rushed forward and pulled Slaktullr away, immediately grounding the mounting energy. The purple scales faded to their non-glowing state as Slaktullr was dragged back to his shop.
Unnerved, Ragnar jogged back to Patterson’s shop. At this time, it was around noon. The curtains were closed with a small sign saying, “Out To Lunch.” The red dragon knocked on the stone frame.
“Dr. Patterson? I’m back with your materials.”
Inside a garbled voice replied, “Mhin heregth.” Ragnar stepped past the curtain to see Dr. Patterson eating a sandwich behind the counter. He swallowed, “Ah, just put everything on the counter over there.” He pointed to the counter below the shelves of medical supplies behind him.
Each herb and medicinal item was laid out in the order they were listed on the shopping list. “What now?”
The doctor swallowed another bite of his food. “Since you won’t need to eat till dinner, clean up the shop.” He pointed to a broom and dustpan, “use those while I finish my lunch.
Eventually, Patterson finished his food. “Now, we need to prepare these raw materials into a useable remedy.” He ducked under the counter and pulled out a massive mortar and pestle. “I have some recipe cards on the top shelf if you could get them down for me.”
Ragnar looked up, “are you sure you don’t want me to take that mortar and pestle from you instead?”
“No,” he huffed, “being a human in a world made for dragons forces you to be strong.” He set them on the counter with a thud.
The red dragon sighed and casually plucked the recipe card book from the top shelf and set it by the mortar and pestle.
“I’ll measure out the ingredients for you. All you have to do is grind them up into a paste.” He leaned against the counter and took a few deep breaths, “We’ll have to sanitize the bowl between recipes.” He grabbed a large jar of clear solution. It smelled like alcohol. “Luckily,” he huffed, “we only have to do three today.” The doctor flipped through the recipes and started measuring out ingredients, setting the portions beside the bowl for Ragnar.
“What do you miss, from Earth that is?” Ragnar asked as he began grinding ingredients.
The doctor sighed, “I miss a lot of baked goods, for one.” He chuckled, “The closest thing to a cookie around here is a vaguely sweet cracker. There’s no running water or indoor plumbing. Or…at least in the towns that I’ve been to. I’m sure the Water dragons have a robust water system, but I’ve never been.”
He stared into the middle distance, the same somber mood looming over his head. His eyes shone with mounting tears.
“But most of all, I miss my family. I miss my wife and our son, our home out in the Rockies. It was beautiful.” A tear fell down his cheek, “I… I miss the people. Sure, we have our fair share of social issues, but we grew past a lot of them. Most folks were a lot friendlier than most of the dragons I’ve met since I got stuck here.” He waved away the somber mood again, “What do you miss?”
Ragnar stood there a moment, “I miss…my humanity. Even now, I struggle to consider myself a human, like, inside. I already find myself referring to you as a human, but so much for myself. I feel strong, but does it matter when I feel my empathy slipping away?” He stopped mixing the ingredients. “I feel mad. More than I think I should. I don’t know. It feels like it’s harder to keep a grip on my emotions.” He scoffed, “It almost feels like I’m back in high school.”
“I…couldn’t imagine.” Patterson replied, “I couldn’t imagine losing my ability to feel for others and share their pain. So much of the human experience is spending time with others.” Patterson paused a beat as Ragnar scooped out a green paste and carried the mortar and pestle underneath a small water pump in the shop to rinse off and clean the bowl.
The doctor dipped a towel into the jar of sanitizer and handed it to Ragnar. “Now that we’re together, we can’t separate, for risk of losing ourselves to this unforgiving world.” He bit his lip, “We could go home.”
Ragnar’s mind was miles away. How can I go home when I look like a monster?
The two continued to work in silence for the remainder of the recipes. Later, Patterson had Ragnar take inventory of the medicines and supplies in the shop. The dragon noticed the customers that came in would stare at him or glance at him with a look of disdain. Before long, the workday was finally over. Patterson waved goodbye as Ragnar returned to Klipp’s place.
As expected, Klipp wasn’t there, so Ragnar just sat on the stone couch. He stretched and spread his limbs across the whole thing, like a spider, quickly falling asleep for a quick nap.
An hour later, Klipp arrived with more groceries for tonight’s meal. The Earth dragon prepared the food.
After dinner, Klipp pulled the red dragon out to start doing some physical therapy and build up the muscle memory for taking off. Ragnar had to do 2 sets of 50 reps, leaving his shoulder sore.
Exhausted, Ragnar plopped onto the stone bed and quickly fell asleep.
Category Story / All
Species Western Dragon
Size 120 x 120px
File Size 26.6 kB
Listed in Folders
Never experienced such racism as a white man? What do you call all the "reverse racism," then? It's still racism! (Sorry about getting political, but that part was a bit triggering for me having actually experienced it from the news media. Now, how about them Bearcats?)
Edit: I presume he got to Dracona before it got to a head, but it's still too political than from what I've come to expect from you.
Edit: I presume he got to Dracona before it got to a head, but it's still too political than from what I've come to expect from you.
I was hoping to make the world seem darker. I tend not to get invested in politics, so my knowledge on topics like this is pretty limited.
I knew that some kind of racism would be a part of this world when I started writing the world of Draconis reference document because of how dragons can be perceived and the general time period I imagine this world being based off of.
I knew that some kind of racism would be a part of this world when I started writing the world of Draconis reference document because of how dragons can be perceived and the general time period I imagine this world being based off of.
Sorry about that. I've been feeling troubled by the news media's treatment of the whole situation of the world and that sentence topped off my bottle. I understand your lack of investment in politics, and the closest I usually get to such things is HaggardHawks's subtweets on Twitter and independent news channels on YouTube. Let's leave it for the politicians and just let entertainment be entertainment, okay?
Will do! But I do have to have ways in universe for tension! I don't plan on focusing on the political side much at all. Finishing chapter 6 made me realize how much I should be working on more action-y sequences and practicing writing characters in motion, not just standing dialogue!
Finally finished watching the video you linked without interuption. I'm kinda just confused how it relates to the comment. I'm not very invested in sports either, so I'm assuming that the point of the video and how it connects to your comment flew straight over my head...
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