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Ragnar and Cornelia share a quaint conversation on their way to a quiet meadow somewhere on the ranch. Cornelia shares a bit about her past and helps Ragnar learn a cool aerial trick!
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The young dragon's body woke up slowly. Yesterday’s exhaustion could still be felt in his legs and aching claws. The warmth of the bed made it even harder to pull his large body from the soft mattress.
Sleep clung to his limbs, making his disorientated and groggy mind fumble as his heavy limbs slowly swung around, reaching for something familiar. It was hard to find the familiar when the world still felt alien to him. Still, he found Klipp's scale, resting on the floor due to the tossing and turning he had done in the night. The brown scale shimmered in the morning light, catching the sun's rays as they streamed through the window.
A lone aspen tree stood by, golden leaves fluttering in the light breeze of the oncoming fall season. A creak from the floorboards alerted him that the others were already awake and starting their days.
He groaned. His draconic body felt like it was weighed down with sandbags. The bulkier frame this draconic body had given him made everything feel heavy but no less easy to move around. Ragnar sat up slowly, limbs dragging behind his torso like logs getting dragged through molasses.
Despite the comparatively restful sleep last night, his body still felt stiff. A good stretch would help with that. With a grunt, he dragged himself out of bed and stretched his massive wings along with the rest of his limbs. Fortunately, the room was big enough to accommodate his full wingspan with room to spare. Draconic bedrooms were built to scale after all.
Ragnar wondered for a moment. How big would this room feel if he were still human? Would it be like the giant's house in those old fairy tales?
Joints popped and cracked as they stretched, each limb shaking free of sleep's grip. His long tail whipped against the bed as it reached out to its full length. THUMP!
Ragnar continued to perform some basic stretches, making sure to get rid of the stiffness he felt when he had woken up. Satisfied with his mobility, he shook all over as if a chill had run up his spine, wicking away the last vestiges of sleep. His scales rattled slightly, signaling the oncoming molting season next week.
He heaved a contented sigh and put on his armaments and satchel. He quickly made the bed and straightened the sheets. With one last look around the room, he turned toward the door, resting a clawed, red hand against the smooth handle.
That dream…It felt so real, he thought. Ragnar thought back to the strange dream from last night. Normally he’d have already forgotten everything, but here it was, still clear in his mind. He shook his head and gripped the handle. The bolt clicked and released the door from the frame, swinging inward.
His sharp claws clicked against the wooden floor of the hallway with each step he took. His snout curled into an uncomfortable grimace. He felt like a monster wandering around a family's home. He felt wrong being here. This wasn't home.
As he stepped into the sitting room, he peered out the window to see Fieldstar preparing a bale of feed before flying off toward the nearby barn. The older dragon's strong body flew effortlessly, even with the heavy cargo dangling from his arms.
Ragnar's attention turned toward the kitchen. The pleasant, savory smell of homemade sandwiches wafted from the kitchen's open doorway. Inside, Cornelia was preparing a small amount of food, at least, for dragons like them. To a human, the sandwiches looked more like eight-inch sub sandwiches.
Ragnar's body may have woken up, but his mind was still lagging behind, instead led by his grumbling stomach. A loud creak from the floorboards made the young dragon's presence known.
Immediately, Cornelia's gaze shot to Ragnar as she placed the last parcels of food into a basket with a clean cloth over the top of it.
She smiled, “Good morning, Ragnar!” Her eyes shone with a motherly sort of love. She waved over to him, “Come, how was your sleep last night?” She set the basket on the table where a few other containers and bags were found.
“I slept well,” he replied, “although I had a strange dream last night.”
Her smile faded a bit, “Are you alright?”
“Yeah,” he answered, “it was just so strange.”
She sat down at the table and patted the chair next to her. “Sit.” Her smile returned. “How was it strange?” She locked her fingers together and leaned forward, resting her snout on the interlocked digits.
Ragnar took the seat and furrowed his brows as he recalled the dream from the previous night. “I was in a shop, surrounded by precious stones and jewelry.” He looked up at her, “There was this old man, a human. He was strange. He talked to me like he knew me, or…maybe something about me. It was like he could read me like an open book.”
“Was he a relative of yours—in your human life that is?” she asked.
Ragnar shook his head, “No, I don’t think he was. He didn’t look like any of the relatives I knew.” The confused dragon paused, “After he greeted me, he took the stone I was looking at.”
“What did it look like?” She wondered.
“He called it Krobinium. It looked like a space nebula, a cloud of colors among the darkness of the sky at night.”
“Hmm…. I’ve heard of Krobinium, though I’ve never seen it myself. I hear it’s beautiful though!” Cornelia smiled. “Oh! I can only imagine!”
“Yeah, it was nothing like any of the gemstones I've ever seen back on Earth.” His gray eyes shone for a moment before returning to their unfocused, confused stare into the middle distance. “He took it off of the shelf and said he’d make a special strap for my pauldron.” He poked at the area above his heart where the sturdy leather strap of his pauldron clung to his scaly hide. The young dragon heaved an exacerbated sigh and let his head plop onto the wooden table with a dull THUNK. “I don’t really know what that was supposed to mean though.” There was a pause. Why would anyone just give me something? It's not like I deserve something so special.
“Hmm…” The motherly dragon held a clawed hand up to her chin. “I don’t know if things are the same on Earth, but it’s always been rumored that dreams can often become a connection between minds.” She tapped her chin, “Maybe the man is real.” Cornelia waved a hand in the hybrid's direction, “Did he say where he was?”
The younger dragon sat up, following her train of logic, “Yeah, he said that he was waiting in Dracaeli. It seemed important that I get there before molting season starts.” One of the scales of his underbelly peeled outward. He quietly pushed it back into place and tried to ignore the uncomfortable feeling of the loose scale against his hide.
Cornelia frowned, “That’s not a lot of time. Molting season is barely a week away at this point.” Her claw returned to her chin. Something weighed on her mind, something she wanted to say but the conversation had shifted away from that topic. Cornelia shook her head, clearing her thoughts and returning to the present with Ragnar. “At least Dracaeli isn’t too far from here, maybe a day’s journey by air?” The young dragon perked up in his seat.
“Really?” His eyes almost sparkled. A strange sense of hope and wonder welled up within him. His large tail lightly thumped the floor behind him like an excited puppy.
Cornelia put on a weak but genuine smile. “How about you leave the day after tomorrow? I think Fieldstar wanted to spend some time with you before you and Fillip continue on your journey.” She pointed out the window toward the barn. “Those two are still catching up today.” The dragoness got up from her seat and grabbed the basket of goodies. “So, you and I have plenty of time to get to know each other.” She placed a comforting claw on his shoulder. “You look like you need a good heart-to-heart.” Her smile widened into a motherly one, warm and kind and utterly genuine. “Lucky for you, I happen to know of a great spot for those!”
The two dragons got up from the kitchen table and headed toward the back door of the house. As they stepped out onto the cool dirt path behind the house, Ragnar couldn’t help but look up at the sky above them. Despite everything he knew feeling so far away, the sky never seemed closer, more comforting than ever before. He had touched it briefly when they were escaping from Slaktullr, but that was a heavy thunderstorm, not exactly the best first impression of Draconis' friendly skies.
Unlike then, it was a clear day. The storm that plagued the land the past two days had passed, leaving behind a vast open sky. Bright fluffy clouds dotted a rich, blue sky. It seemed so much more vibrant than the skies on Earth, or at least most of it. Most of the time the blue sky looked somewhat pale, only a few select times and places had such a vibrant sky as the one above him today.
The Earthling’s heart fluttered. What would it be like to touch the sky with his own claws? Sure, planes could get you into the sky, but being in that space for yourself was a whole other matter. His wings twitched behind him, aching to do what they were designed to do.
Cornelia looked on at the young dragon, a bright smile on her face. The younger dragon looked up at the sky, completely awestruck. She hadn’t seen true wonder like that in a very long time. She hoped that wondrous moments like this would happen more often. Someday soon... She hoped.
After a moment, she finally spoke up, a cocky smile on her snout. “Itching to fly?” Her smile morphed into a smug smirk as the younger dragon processed what she had said.
He blinked, his transfixion with the early morning sky finally broken. He turned his attention to the source of the voice. “Huh?”
The dragoness only pointed at his wings. They were still twitching, almost fluttering with how quickly they were flapping behind him, not nearly enough to get any lift, but enough to feel light on his feet.
“Care to fly with me?” Cornelia smiled as she spread her wings, quickly locking the lid of her picnic basket and fastening it to the leather strap around her torso. Small hand tools and gardening implements lined most of the leather loops, all of which hung over a light apron. Small yellow dots peppered the apron like drops of golden sunshine. Once everything was secure, she took off into the sky, twirling up and up and up until she was soaring above the house, high above the rolling fields.
Ragnar quickly followed suit. His launch into the sky was much sharper, like a rocket screaming toward the heavens. His powerful wings beat hard as he gained altitude, eventually returning to eye level with Cornelia and quickly surpassing her.
The young dragon’s heart beat harder in his chest. His first real flight since becoming a dragon! A surge of energy coursed through his veins as he climbed higher and higher. His heart leaped with each beat of his wings, each surge upward. A broad, toothy grin sat plastered across his snout.
He climbed through a stray cloud, the cool flush of air hitting his scales like a cool breeze on a warm day. He breathed deep, savoring the air as he slowed down to a hover.
It all felt so natural. It was as if this was the way he was always meant to be. He felt free like never before. The feeling of his body in the sky was like a ship in the sea as it sails unanchored. Every direction was possible. Every path stretched out before him, an infinite horizon of possibilities. Ragnar closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of the winds hitting his scales and the utter majesty of being free from the ground.
After what felt like forever, he came to his senses and calmed down. But he knew deep down that something was different now. Something had changed. When he opened his eyes again, the sight of the world below him felt so different.
The planet’s surface stretched out below him, shrunken down but no less beautiful from this perspective. Everything looked so small. The rolling hills of the ranch had turned to anthills and the forest to autumn grass. The horizons stretched farther, bending a little from the sheer distance he could now see.
The sun now sat below him in the sky, chasing after him in a losing race. The warm beams of its light touched every nook and cranny of the planet's surface. The sky above him had now become an invisible yet much higher ceiling, hiding an even wider world just beyond his reach.
Below him, Cornelia huffed as she struggled to climb up after him. Her smaller wings flapped aggressively behind her. Ragnar frowned slightly. He had climbed a little too high for the Ground Dragon to reach. He slowed the beating of his wings and gradually lowered himself to meet with Cornelia. The older dragoness smiled. Her head drooped forward gulping down air until she finally caught her breath.
“Those wings really are something!” she huffed. “They’re a lot stronger than I expected!” She smiled, staring into the younger dragon’s eyes. They shone with an energetic light, excitement, and wonder. “If I didn’t know better, I’d have thought that you were born a dragon!” A snarky grin stretched across her muzzle, causing the young hybrid to laugh nervously, trying to downplay the compliment.
“Nah, it’s probably just the...genetic memory of my dragon body.” His cheeks felt hot as if he were blushing. Could he still blush? The scales covered any skin below the surface, but the dragoness seemed to pick up on the cue all the same.
“Uhuh,” she looked unconvinced. “Flying on its own is all fine and dandy, but what about aerial tricks?” Her infectious smile returned. “Let me show you a couple of tricks I learned when I was just a little drake!”
Ragnar cocked his head to the side like a confused puppy which made Cornelia’s joyful laughter even stronger.
“Watch this!” She climbed a little higher into the air. Her climb slowed to a stop. Her body flipped over as she began a dive head-first toward the ground. Her small wings curled around her as she began to spin, a veritable torpedo hurtling toward the earth. Before she reached the ground, her wings unfurled, catching the wind and leaving her soaring along the rolling hills at incredible speed.
Once her momentum died down, she climbed back up to Ragnar, a proud smile on full display. Ragnar stared at her, slack-jawed. “That was incredible!” His eyes almost sparkled. “How did you learn to do that?”
Cornelia rolled her shoulders. “Oh, it's nothing special.” She twirled in the air, waving her wings in a flourish. “I learned a few aerobatics from watching traveling performers growing up.” She smiled, looking back into her memory, “For a while, I wanted to be one, but Ground dragons just aren’t built for that sort of thing, not to the same degree as Wind dragons can.” She gestured to Ragnar's large wings, “It was easier to learn aerial ballet. In some ways, it was more elegant than aerobatics.”
“So, you were a dancer when you were younger?” The young dragon drew closer, a curious sparkle in his eyes.
“Something like that." She smiled, "as I got older, it got harder to do that for extended periods of time. Multiple shows and extensive practices every day take a toll on the body, let me tell you!” She laughed, but behind it was a twinge of sadness, a lost part of herself that she couldn’t quite recover. “Nowadays, I err more on the side of directing and choreographing performances over in Kole’s Chorus. The local theater scene in that town is really something special, especially for a former mining town here on the surface.”
“Like Quartz Quarry?” Ragnar asked.
“Kind of. Most Ground Dragon towns started as mining operations, each for a different gem, mineral, or some other resource. The coal mines dried up a long time ago, so it's rare to see a town continue to thrive without a primary export.” She pointed at Ragnar with an excited gleam in her eyes. “That’s why the theater scene in Kole’s Chorus is so special. Kole was always one for the arts, so the town had theater baked into its DNA! Every night, he’d put on performances with his friends for their neighbors and travelers alike. One thing led to another and BAM! Kole’s Chorus has its own theater scene, the only one for miles if we’re being honest.” Her eyes shone with the energy of someone who hadn't gotten to talk about their favorite hobby in a very long time.
“So you work with the local theater as a choreographer then?” She nodded. “That’s really cool, Cornelia!” He beamed.
“It really is!” She spun around again, almost bouncing in place. “The real magic happens when I get to work with other species of dragons, especially hybrids!" She leaned in and gave Ragnar a playful punch to the shoulder. "Their unique talents really lend themselves to the stage! There’s this one Water dragon hybrid that I’ve been working with, who has been an absolute dream to work with. The way she flies through the sky is so mesmerizing, not to mention the incredible light shows she can put on when a storm rolls in.” Cornelia let out a contented sigh, “I bet she had some real fun with that big thunderstorm the other day.”
Ragnar nodded along as the dragoness continued to marvel at her young students. The mood had calmed down a little as the two began to glide through the air above the beaten path.
Cornelia looked Ragnar over for a moment. “Hmm…”
“What’s up?”
“Oh, I was just thinking about a couple of tricks that you might be able to pull off!" Her bright, energetic smile returned, "There’s this little Fire Dragon kid that has been begging me to come up with a routine for her to practice and audition with.” The two paused as Ragnar turned his attention fully to the thoughtful Ground dragon. “Would you mind trying a couple of maneuvers for me? I’ve been having a hard time coming up with something that’ll show off her heritage in a really special way.”
“Yeah, sure! It’d be nice to learn a couple of cool tricks!” Ragnar returned her smile. "I'd be happy to help!"
She smiled, “Thank you so much, Ragnar!” She held a clawed hand up to her chin in thought. “What kind of Fire Dragon stuff do you know how to do?”
“Uh,” Ragnar paused a moment, thinking back to the few times he had actually used his fire. “Well, I can breathe fire.” The young dragon quickly turned to the side and took a deep breath, the telltale orange-yellow glow of fire emanating from the back of his throat, illuminating the gaps between the scales like a neon sign. With a blast of heat, a solid stream of fire blasted from his maw, spreading forward about twenty feet before arcing downward slightly and stopping altogether.
The force of the blast pushed the young dragon back slightly and into the growing plume of smoke that spilled from his back. With his body covered in black smoke, he began to cough, stopping the stream of fire. The dark cloud dissipated quickly as his wings beat harder to keep him hovering in the air. When the smoke cleared, Cornelia was watching him intently, the gears of her mind spinning at what she had just seen.
“Hm…That doesn’t seem terribly useful... Maybe if you tried to fly forward slightly to keep yourself from falling into the smoke.” She turned it over in her mind again. “Or maybe you could move with the fire and fly through the smoke.”
Ragnar cocked his head to the side in confusion again. “How am I supposed to do that?”
“You could beat your wings with one big gust so you fly farther back." She swung her arms forward, mimicking the motion of her wings as she lurched backward. "If you have enough momentum, you might be able to slip past the fog and do…something.” Her mind began to mull over dozens of routines and sequences that might work with what Ragnar had shown her. “What else can you do with your fire?”
“I can also light my scales on fire. I promise; it doesn’t hurt.” He smiled. Ragnar quickly spat a small stream of flame onto one of his claws, igniting it instantly and creating a flaming outline around his claw.
Cornelia’s eyes went wide as an idea struck her. “I’ve got an idea. Maybe, when you’re in the smoke cloud, you could do a twirl,” she performed a slow twirl, “and light all of your scales on fire. Then, by the time you got out of the smoke, you’d be covered in flames, like a phoenix!”
“Oh! Phoenixes are a mythical creature here too?”
The dragoness shot him a puzzled expression, “They’re real. Flocks of them fly all around Dragis.”
“Dragis?” The younger hybrid cocked his head to the side.
“Oh, it’s the easternmost continent.” She replied flatly. “It’s actually the home to the Fire dragon species.”
Ragnar blinked. Most of what she’d said didn’t make much sense to him without some sort of map. “And we’re…” his voice trailed off, spurring Cornelia to elaborate.
“On Terragon.” She finished. There was a brief silence. Ragnar continued to blink with complete and utter confusion. “I’ll show you a map when we get back.” She waved her claws, trying to change the subject. “Why don’t you try out that phoenix move for me?”
It took a moment for Ragnar to process what she had asked of him, still struggling to process and build a mental map of the world he was in. “Huh? Oh! Right.”
Ragnar climbed a bit higher into the sky and gave himself some space to work. It took him a couple of tries to get the spin right in order to light his scales on fire, but once he did, it felt warm and comforting like a cozy blanket. He hugged himself as he tumbled out of the cloud of smoke.
An outline of fire surrounded his entire body. Wisps of smoke tumbled behind him like stray feathers of smoke, but instead of falling to the ground or disappearing into the air, the feather-like wisps of smoke began to almost orbit around him.
Similarly, the cloud of smoke he had flown through began to draw near to him again. It changed shape as the cloud split down the middle and attached itself to the webbing between his wings. The webbing itself wouldn’t catch fire like the scales, making the attraction to the smoke all the more strange.
The amorphous clouds of smoke began to take a more defined shape, stretching further past the webbing and forming fuller, more avian-like wings. His already large wingspan expanded further with the smoke adding to the phoenix-like appearance that his flaming scales emulated.
The smaller puffs of smoke followed a similar pattern instead opting to attach to the sides of his tail, creating a fan of smoke along his tail that spread just as wide as his wingspan.
He flapped hard, gaining more height until he reached a peak and spread wide, letting the full beauty of the flaming phoenix float midair in a frozen, picturesque moment of time.
Cornelia continued to stare slackjawed as Ragnar furled his wings, creating a cocoon of luminescent smoke in a hard dive toward the ground. The cocoon seemed to spin, going dark, before exploding and dissipating as the young dragon caught the air, unfurling his wings and soaring back up to meet Cornelia.
“Wow,” she said breathlessly, “that was beautiful!” Her eyes seemed to sparkle in amazement.
Ragnar’s scales had taken on a darker, ashen color. A couple of the larger scales rattled and slipped free, falling toward the ground unnoticed by the young dragon.
“Oh!” Cornelia made a quick dive for the falling scales, catching them easily. The scales themselves looked brittle. If they were allowed to hit the ground, they would have undoubtedly shattered. “Probably not the best time to practice that trick so close to molting season.” She handed the lost scales to their owner. “These scales don’t seem particularly healthy.” She pointed to a crack in one of the scales. “Your scales shouldn’t crack like this when they fall out. Did Fillip give you anything for your scales?"
“Uh,” Ragnar dug through the messenger bag at his hip, “he told me to get scale polish. I didn’t have much of a budget, so I got the cheapest I could find.” The young dragon pulled out a small, opaque vessel with a handwritten label attached to it and handed it to the dragoness.
“Hmm…” she scrutinized the label, looking over its ingredients intently. “I don’t think this polish is good for your scales, especially for ones like yours…” Ragnar’s shoulders sank. “It’s better than nothing, but it won’t do anything to repair your scales. It might be a good idea to find scale polish that’s been made specifically for Fire Dragons. A big town like Dracaeli should have plenty of opportunities to find what you need.” She handed the scale polish back to Ragnar. “Scale polish is just one of those things that you NEED to spend a little extra gold on. Having good scales is really handy in a pinch, always good for bartering with other species after all.”
“How so?”
“Oh, each species’ scales has its own uses. Some Ground Dragon scales are a good flint substitute, but most are handy for making small tools. Our scales are pretty durable!” She smiled and flexed her arms, knocking against the pale brown scales. “Yours would be handy for campfires and the like. Although, I’m not too familiar with all the uses for Fire dragon scales.”
Growl.
Ragnar’s stomach gurgled and grumbled, begging for a meal. He scratched at the back of his head with a sheepish smile. “Maybe it's time for that picnic.”
“Oh! Yeah!” she replied with her own, matching smile. “We aren’t too far out from my favorite picnicking spot.”
Up ahead was a small field of flowers beside an even smaller pond and a large, old-looking oak tree. The two quickly touched down and found a nice, shady spot overlooking the field of flowers.
“These flowers are beautiful! I’ve never seen anything like them before!” He leaned in close to the red and orange flowers.
“Those are Compamor flowers.” She leaned in next to him and plucked one of the flowering buds. She spun it around in her claws, looking at it intently. “Some people call it the flower of empathy.”
“Why is that?”
“Oh,” she stared at the flower a moment, “well, they tend to grow near places where people have heart-to-hearts.”
Ragnar blinked, “how does that even work?”
“It’s more of an urban myth than anything.” The delicate flowers flowed in the breeze like the calm waves at a beach. “But…no one that I’ve talked to can say where they come from. I like to think that the myth is true, that they grow in places where people connect.”
“So…” the hybrid turned his gaze toward the field of flowers, “is this where you and Fieldstone hash it out?”
“Something like that.” Cornelia smiled and quickly dug into the picnic basket, producing a pair of sandwiches, and handed one to Ragnar. “So, tell me about life on Earth! What brought you here? I've been meaning to ask you what your story is all day."
The young dragon gulped nervously. “Are you sure? My life was pretty… boring before coming here.” His voice trailed off as his attention lingered on the field of flowers. His shoulders sagged like a heavy burden had appeared from nowhere.
Cornelia leaned in and pulled on his chin until he was facing her. There was a deep sadness in his eyes, the eyes of someone who lost everything. She smiled her warm, motherly smile and said, “What’s ‘boring’ to you is new to me. Even just saying it out loud might help you feel better. You have to process this whole ordeal sooner or later.”
Ragnar sighed. “Maybe.” He didn’t sound convinced but continued anyway. “I feel like it all started just a month ago now…”
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Chapter 9: Morning Conversations
Written by: Ryker-Wolf
The young dragon's body woke up slowly. Yesterday’s exhaustion could still be felt in his legs and aching claws. The warmth of the bed made it even harder to pull his large body from the soft mattress.
Sleep clung to his limbs, making his disorientated and groggy mind fumble as his heavy limbs slowly swung around, reaching for something familiar. It was hard to find the familiar when the world still felt alien to him. Still, he found Klipp's scale, resting on the floor due to the tossing and turning he had done in the night. The brown scale shimmered in the morning light, catching the sun's rays as they streamed through the window.
A lone aspen tree stood by, golden leaves fluttering in the light breeze of the oncoming fall season. A creak from the floorboards alerted him that the others were already awake and starting their days.
He groaned. His draconic body felt like it was weighed down with sandbags. The bulkier frame this draconic body had given him made everything feel heavy but no less easy to move around. Ragnar sat up slowly, limbs dragging behind his torso like logs getting dragged through molasses.
Despite the comparatively restful sleep last night, his body still felt stiff. A good stretch would help with that. With a grunt, he dragged himself out of bed and stretched his massive wings along with the rest of his limbs. Fortunately, the room was big enough to accommodate his full wingspan with room to spare. Draconic bedrooms were built to scale after all.
Ragnar wondered for a moment. How big would this room feel if he were still human? Would it be like the giant's house in those old fairy tales?
Joints popped and cracked as they stretched, each limb shaking free of sleep's grip. His long tail whipped against the bed as it reached out to its full length. THUMP!
Ragnar continued to perform some basic stretches, making sure to get rid of the stiffness he felt when he had woken up. Satisfied with his mobility, he shook all over as if a chill had run up his spine, wicking away the last vestiges of sleep. His scales rattled slightly, signaling the oncoming molting season next week.
He heaved a contented sigh and put on his armaments and satchel. He quickly made the bed and straightened the sheets. With one last look around the room, he turned toward the door, resting a clawed, red hand against the smooth handle.
That dream…It felt so real, he thought. Ragnar thought back to the strange dream from last night. Normally he’d have already forgotten everything, but here it was, still clear in his mind. He shook his head and gripped the handle. The bolt clicked and released the door from the frame, swinging inward.
His sharp claws clicked against the wooden floor of the hallway with each step he took. His snout curled into an uncomfortable grimace. He felt like a monster wandering around a family's home. He felt wrong being here. This wasn't home.
As he stepped into the sitting room, he peered out the window to see Fieldstar preparing a bale of feed before flying off toward the nearby barn. The older dragon's strong body flew effortlessly, even with the heavy cargo dangling from his arms.
Ragnar's attention turned toward the kitchen. The pleasant, savory smell of homemade sandwiches wafted from the kitchen's open doorway. Inside, Cornelia was preparing a small amount of food, at least, for dragons like them. To a human, the sandwiches looked more like eight-inch sub sandwiches.
Ragnar's body may have woken up, but his mind was still lagging behind, instead led by his grumbling stomach. A loud creak from the floorboards made the young dragon's presence known.
Immediately, Cornelia's gaze shot to Ragnar as she placed the last parcels of food into a basket with a clean cloth over the top of it.
She smiled, “Good morning, Ragnar!” Her eyes shone with a motherly sort of love. She waved over to him, “Come, how was your sleep last night?” She set the basket on the table where a few other containers and bags were found.
“I slept well,” he replied, “although I had a strange dream last night.”
Her smile faded a bit, “Are you alright?”
“Yeah,” he answered, “it was just so strange.”
She sat down at the table and patted the chair next to her. “Sit.” Her smile returned. “How was it strange?” She locked her fingers together and leaned forward, resting her snout on the interlocked digits.
Ragnar took the seat and furrowed his brows as he recalled the dream from the previous night. “I was in a shop, surrounded by precious stones and jewelry.” He looked up at her, “There was this old man, a human. He was strange. He talked to me like he knew me, or…maybe something about me. It was like he could read me like an open book.”
“Was he a relative of yours—in your human life that is?” she asked.
Ragnar shook his head, “No, I don’t think he was. He didn’t look like any of the relatives I knew.” The confused dragon paused, “After he greeted me, he took the stone I was looking at.”
“What did it look like?” She wondered.
“He called it Krobinium. It looked like a space nebula, a cloud of colors among the darkness of the sky at night.”
“Hmm…. I’ve heard of Krobinium, though I’ve never seen it myself. I hear it’s beautiful though!” Cornelia smiled. “Oh! I can only imagine!”
“Yeah, it was nothing like any of the gemstones I've ever seen back on Earth.” His gray eyes shone for a moment before returning to their unfocused, confused stare into the middle distance. “He took it off of the shelf and said he’d make a special strap for my pauldron.” He poked at the area above his heart where the sturdy leather strap of his pauldron clung to his scaly hide. The young dragon heaved an exacerbated sigh and let his head plop onto the wooden table with a dull THUNK. “I don’t really know what that was supposed to mean though.” There was a pause. Why would anyone just give me something? It's not like I deserve something so special.
“Hmm…” The motherly dragon held a clawed hand up to her chin. “I don’t know if things are the same on Earth, but it’s always been rumored that dreams can often become a connection between minds.” She tapped her chin, “Maybe the man is real.” Cornelia waved a hand in the hybrid's direction, “Did he say where he was?”
The younger dragon sat up, following her train of logic, “Yeah, he said that he was waiting in Dracaeli. It seemed important that I get there before molting season starts.” One of the scales of his underbelly peeled outward. He quietly pushed it back into place and tried to ignore the uncomfortable feeling of the loose scale against his hide.
Cornelia frowned, “That’s not a lot of time. Molting season is barely a week away at this point.” Her claw returned to her chin. Something weighed on her mind, something she wanted to say but the conversation had shifted away from that topic. Cornelia shook her head, clearing her thoughts and returning to the present with Ragnar. “At least Dracaeli isn’t too far from here, maybe a day’s journey by air?” The young dragon perked up in his seat.
“Really?” His eyes almost sparkled. A strange sense of hope and wonder welled up within him. His large tail lightly thumped the floor behind him like an excited puppy.
Cornelia put on a weak but genuine smile. “How about you leave the day after tomorrow? I think Fieldstar wanted to spend some time with you before you and Fillip continue on your journey.” She pointed out the window toward the barn. “Those two are still catching up today.” The dragoness got up from her seat and grabbed the basket of goodies. “So, you and I have plenty of time to get to know each other.” She placed a comforting claw on his shoulder. “You look like you need a good heart-to-heart.” Her smile widened into a motherly one, warm and kind and utterly genuine. “Lucky for you, I happen to know of a great spot for those!”
The two dragons got up from the kitchen table and headed toward the back door of the house. As they stepped out onto the cool dirt path behind the house, Ragnar couldn’t help but look up at the sky above them. Despite everything he knew feeling so far away, the sky never seemed closer, more comforting than ever before. He had touched it briefly when they were escaping from Slaktullr, but that was a heavy thunderstorm, not exactly the best first impression of Draconis' friendly skies.
Unlike then, it was a clear day. The storm that plagued the land the past two days had passed, leaving behind a vast open sky. Bright fluffy clouds dotted a rich, blue sky. It seemed so much more vibrant than the skies on Earth, or at least most of it. Most of the time the blue sky looked somewhat pale, only a few select times and places had such a vibrant sky as the one above him today.
The Earthling’s heart fluttered. What would it be like to touch the sky with his own claws? Sure, planes could get you into the sky, but being in that space for yourself was a whole other matter. His wings twitched behind him, aching to do what they were designed to do.
Cornelia looked on at the young dragon, a bright smile on her face. The younger dragon looked up at the sky, completely awestruck. She hadn’t seen true wonder like that in a very long time. She hoped that wondrous moments like this would happen more often. Someday soon... She hoped.
After a moment, she finally spoke up, a cocky smile on her snout. “Itching to fly?” Her smile morphed into a smug smirk as the younger dragon processed what she had said.
He blinked, his transfixion with the early morning sky finally broken. He turned his attention to the source of the voice. “Huh?”
The dragoness only pointed at his wings. They were still twitching, almost fluttering with how quickly they were flapping behind him, not nearly enough to get any lift, but enough to feel light on his feet.
“Care to fly with me?” Cornelia smiled as she spread her wings, quickly locking the lid of her picnic basket and fastening it to the leather strap around her torso. Small hand tools and gardening implements lined most of the leather loops, all of which hung over a light apron. Small yellow dots peppered the apron like drops of golden sunshine. Once everything was secure, she took off into the sky, twirling up and up and up until she was soaring above the house, high above the rolling fields.
Ragnar quickly followed suit. His launch into the sky was much sharper, like a rocket screaming toward the heavens. His powerful wings beat hard as he gained altitude, eventually returning to eye level with Cornelia and quickly surpassing her.
The young dragon’s heart beat harder in his chest. His first real flight since becoming a dragon! A surge of energy coursed through his veins as he climbed higher and higher. His heart leaped with each beat of his wings, each surge upward. A broad, toothy grin sat plastered across his snout.
He climbed through a stray cloud, the cool flush of air hitting his scales like a cool breeze on a warm day. He breathed deep, savoring the air as he slowed down to a hover.
It all felt so natural. It was as if this was the way he was always meant to be. He felt free like never before. The feeling of his body in the sky was like a ship in the sea as it sails unanchored. Every direction was possible. Every path stretched out before him, an infinite horizon of possibilities. Ragnar closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of the winds hitting his scales and the utter majesty of being free from the ground.
After what felt like forever, he came to his senses and calmed down. But he knew deep down that something was different now. Something had changed. When he opened his eyes again, the sight of the world below him felt so different.
The planet’s surface stretched out below him, shrunken down but no less beautiful from this perspective. Everything looked so small. The rolling hills of the ranch had turned to anthills and the forest to autumn grass. The horizons stretched farther, bending a little from the sheer distance he could now see.
The sun now sat below him in the sky, chasing after him in a losing race. The warm beams of its light touched every nook and cranny of the planet's surface. The sky above him had now become an invisible yet much higher ceiling, hiding an even wider world just beyond his reach.
Below him, Cornelia huffed as she struggled to climb up after him. Her smaller wings flapped aggressively behind her. Ragnar frowned slightly. He had climbed a little too high for the Ground Dragon to reach. He slowed the beating of his wings and gradually lowered himself to meet with Cornelia. The older dragoness smiled. Her head drooped forward gulping down air until she finally caught her breath.
“Those wings really are something!” she huffed. “They’re a lot stronger than I expected!” She smiled, staring into the younger dragon’s eyes. They shone with an energetic light, excitement, and wonder. “If I didn’t know better, I’d have thought that you were born a dragon!” A snarky grin stretched across her muzzle, causing the young hybrid to laugh nervously, trying to downplay the compliment.
“Nah, it’s probably just the...genetic memory of my dragon body.” His cheeks felt hot as if he were blushing. Could he still blush? The scales covered any skin below the surface, but the dragoness seemed to pick up on the cue all the same.
“Uhuh,” she looked unconvinced. “Flying on its own is all fine and dandy, but what about aerial tricks?” Her infectious smile returned. “Let me show you a couple of tricks I learned when I was just a little drake!”
Ragnar cocked his head to the side like a confused puppy which made Cornelia’s joyful laughter even stronger.
“Watch this!” She climbed a little higher into the air. Her climb slowed to a stop. Her body flipped over as she began a dive head-first toward the ground. Her small wings curled around her as she began to spin, a veritable torpedo hurtling toward the earth. Before she reached the ground, her wings unfurled, catching the wind and leaving her soaring along the rolling hills at incredible speed.
Once her momentum died down, she climbed back up to Ragnar, a proud smile on full display. Ragnar stared at her, slack-jawed. “That was incredible!” His eyes almost sparkled. “How did you learn to do that?”
Cornelia rolled her shoulders. “Oh, it's nothing special.” She twirled in the air, waving her wings in a flourish. “I learned a few aerobatics from watching traveling performers growing up.” She smiled, looking back into her memory, “For a while, I wanted to be one, but Ground dragons just aren’t built for that sort of thing, not to the same degree as Wind dragons can.” She gestured to Ragnar's large wings, “It was easier to learn aerial ballet. In some ways, it was more elegant than aerobatics.”
“So, you were a dancer when you were younger?” The young dragon drew closer, a curious sparkle in his eyes.
“Something like that." She smiled, "as I got older, it got harder to do that for extended periods of time. Multiple shows and extensive practices every day take a toll on the body, let me tell you!” She laughed, but behind it was a twinge of sadness, a lost part of herself that she couldn’t quite recover. “Nowadays, I err more on the side of directing and choreographing performances over in Kole’s Chorus. The local theater scene in that town is really something special, especially for a former mining town here on the surface.”
“Like Quartz Quarry?” Ragnar asked.
“Kind of. Most Ground Dragon towns started as mining operations, each for a different gem, mineral, or some other resource. The coal mines dried up a long time ago, so it's rare to see a town continue to thrive without a primary export.” She pointed at Ragnar with an excited gleam in her eyes. “That’s why the theater scene in Kole’s Chorus is so special. Kole was always one for the arts, so the town had theater baked into its DNA! Every night, he’d put on performances with his friends for their neighbors and travelers alike. One thing led to another and BAM! Kole’s Chorus has its own theater scene, the only one for miles if we’re being honest.” Her eyes shone with the energy of someone who hadn't gotten to talk about their favorite hobby in a very long time.
“So you work with the local theater as a choreographer then?” She nodded. “That’s really cool, Cornelia!” He beamed.
“It really is!” She spun around again, almost bouncing in place. “The real magic happens when I get to work with other species of dragons, especially hybrids!" She leaned in and gave Ragnar a playful punch to the shoulder. "Their unique talents really lend themselves to the stage! There’s this one Water dragon hybrid that I’ve been working with, who has been an absolute dream to work with. The way she flies through the sky is so mesmerizing, not to mention the incredible light shows she can put on when a storm rolls in.” Cornelia let out a contented sigh, “I bet she had some real fun with that big thunderstorm the other day.”
Ragnar nodded along as the dragoness continued to marvel at her young students. The mood had calmed down a little as the two began to glide through the air above the beaten path.
Cornelia looked Ragnar over for a moment. “Hmm…”
“What’s up?”
“Oh, I was just thinking about a couple of tricks that you might be able to pull off!" Her bright, energetic smile returned, "There’s this little Fire Dragon kid that has been begging me to come up with a routine for her to practice and audition with.” The two paused as Ragnar turned his attention fully to the thoughtful Ground dragon. “Would you mind trying a couple of maneuvers for me? I’ve been having a hard time coming up with something that’ll show off her heritage in a really special way.”
“Yeah, sure! It’d be nice to learn a couple of cool tricks!” Ragnar returned her smile. "I'd be happy to help!"
She smiled, “Thank you so much, Ragnar!” She held a clawed hand up to her chin in thought. “What kind of Fire Dragon stuff do you know how to do?”
“Uh,” Ragnar paused a moment, thinking back to the few times he had actually used his fire. “Well, I can breathe fire.” The young dragon quickly turned to the side and took a deep breath, the telltale orange-yellow glow of fire emanating from the back of his throat, illuminating the gaps between the scales like a neon sign. With a blast of heat, a solid stream of fire blasted from his maw, spreading forward about twenty feet before arcing downward slightly and stopping altogether.
The force of the blast pushed the young dragon back slightly and into the growing plume of smoke that spilled from his back. With his body covered in black smoke, he began to cough, stopping the stream of fire. The dark cloud dissipated quickly as his wings beat harder to keep him hovering in the air. When the smoke cleared, Cornelia was watching him intently, the gears of her mind spinning at what she had just seen.
“Hm…That doesn’t seem terribly useful... Maybe if you tried to fly forward slightly to keep yourself from falling into the smoke.” She turned it over in her mind again. “Or maybe you could move with the fire and fly through the smoke.”
Ragnar cocked his head to the side in confusion again. “How am I supposed to do that?”
“You could beat your wings with one big gust so you fly farther back." She swung her arms forward, mimicking the motion of her wings as she lurched backward. "If you have enough momentum, you might be able to slip past the fog and do…something.” Her mind began to mull over dozens of routines and sequences that might work with what Ragnar had shown her. “What else can you do with your fire?”
“I can also light my scales on fire. I promise; it doesn’t hurt.” He smiled. Ragnar quickly spat a small stream of flame onto one of his claws, igniting it instantly and creating a flaming outline around his claw.
Cornelia’s eyes went wide as an idea struck her. “I’ve got an idea. Maybe, when you’re in the smoke cloud, you could do a twirl,” she performed a slow twirl, “and light all of your scales on fire. Then, by the time you got out of the smoke, you’d be covered in flames, like a phoenix!”
“Oh! Phoenixes are a mythical creature here too?”
The dragoness shot him a puzzled expression, “They’re real. Flocks of them fly all around Dragis.”
“Dragis?” The younger hybrid cocked his head to the side.
“Oh, it’s the easternmost continent.” She replied flatly. “It’s actually the home to the Fire dragon species.”
Ragnar blinked. Most of what she’d said didn’t make much sense to him without some sort of map. “And we’re…” his voice trailed off, spurring Cornelia to elaborate.
“On Terragon.” She finished. There was a brief silence. Ragnar continued to blink with complete and utter confusion. “I’ll show you a map when we get back.” She waved her claws, trying to change the subject. “Why don’t you try out that phoenix move for me?”
It took a moment for Ragnar to process what she had asked of him, still struggling to process and build a mental map of the world he was in. “Huh? Oh! Right.”
Ragnar climbed a bit higher into the sky and gave himself some space to work. It took him a couple of tries to get the spin right in order to light his scales on fire, but once he did, it felt warm and comforting like a cozy blanket. He hugged himself as he tumbled out of the cloud of smoke.
An outline of fire surrounded his entire body. Wisps of smoke tumbled behind him like stray feathers of smoke, but instead of falling to the ground or disappearing into the air, the feather-like wisps of smoke began to almost orbit around him.
Similarly, the cloud of smoke he had flown through began to draw near to him again. It changed shape as the cloud split down the middle and attached itself to the webbing between his wings. The webbing itself wouldn’t catch fire like the scales, making the attraction to the smoke all the more strange.
The amorphous clouds of smoke began to take a more defined shape, stretching further past the webbing and forming fuller, more avian-like wings. His already large wingspan expanded further with the smoke adding to the phoenix-like appearance that his flaming scales emulated.
The smaller puffs of smoke followed a similar pattern instead opting to attach to the sides of his tail, creating a fan of smoke along his tail that spread just as wide as his wingspan.
He flapped hard, gaining more height until he reached a peak and spread wide, letting the full beauty of the flaming phoenix float midair in a frozen, picturesque moment of time.
Cornelia continued to stare slackjawed as Ragnar furled his wings, creating a cocoon of luminescent smoke in a hard dive toward the ground. The cocoon seemed to spin, going dark, before exploding and dissipating as the young dragon caught the air, unfurling his wings and soaring back up to meet Cornelia.
“Wow,” she said breathlessly, “that was beautiful!” Her eyes seemed to sparkle in amazement.
Ragnar’s scales had taken on a darker, ashen color. A couple of the larger scales rattled and slipped free, falling toward the ground unnoticed by the young dragon.
“Oh!” Cornelia made a quick dive for the falling scales, catching them easily. The scales themselves looked brittle. If they were allowed to hit the ground, they would have undoubtedly shattered. “Probably not the best time to practice that trick so close to molting season.” She handed the lost scales to their owner. “These scales don’t seem particularly healthy.” She pointed to a crack in one of the scales. “Your scales shouldn’t crack like this when they fall out. Did Fillip give you anything for your scales?"
“Uh,” Ragnar dug through the messenger bag at his hip, “he told me to get scale polish. I didn’t have much of a budget, so I got the cheapest I could find.” The young dragon pulled out a small, opaque vessel with a handwritten label attached to it and handed it to the dragoness.
“Hmm…” she scrutinized the label, looking over its ingredients intently. “I don’t think this polish is good for your scales, especially for ones like yours…” Ragnar’s shoulders sank. “It’s better than nothing, but it won’t do anything to repair your scales. It might be a good idea to find scale polish that’s been made specifically for Fire Dragons. A big town like Dracaeli should have plenty of opportunities to find what you need.” She handed the scale polish back to Ragnar. “Scale polish is just one of those things that you NEED to spend a little extra gold on. Having good scales is really handy in a pinch, always good for bartering with other species after all.”
“How so?”
“Oh, each species’ scales has its own uses. Some Ground Dragon scales are a good flint substitute, but most are handy for making small tools. Our scales are pretty durable!” She smiled and flexed her arms, knocking against the pale brown scales. “Yours would be handy for campfires and the like. Although, I’m not too familiar with all the uses for Fire dragon scales.”
Growl.
Ragnar’s stomach gurgled and grumbled, begging for a meal. He scratched at the back of his head with a sheepish smile. “Maybe it's time for that picnic.”
“Oh! Yeah!” she replied with her own, matching smile. “We aren’t too far out from my favorite picnicking spot.”
Up ahead was a small field of flowers beside an even smaller pond and a large, old-looking oak tree. The two quickly touched down and found a nice, shady spot overlooking the field of flowers.
“These flowers are beautiful! I’ve never seen anything like them before!” He leaned in close to the red and orange flowers.
“Those are Compamor flowers.” She leaned in next to him and plucked one of the flowering buds. She spun it around in her claws, looking at it intently. “Some people call it the flower of empathy.”
“Why is that?”
“Oh,” she stared at the flower a moment, “well, they tend to grow near places where people have heart-to-hearts.”
Ragnar blinked, “how does that even work?”
“It’s more of an urban myth than anything.” The delicate flowers flowed in the breeze like the calm waves at a beach. “But…no one that I’ve talked to can say where they come from. I like to think that the myth is true, that they grow in places where people connect.”
“So…” the hybrid turned his gaze toward the field of flowers, “is this where you and Fieldstone hash it out?”
“Something like that.” Cornelia smiled and quickly dug into the picnic basket, producing a pair of sandwiches, and handed one to Ragnar. “So, tell me about life on Earth! What brought you here? I've been meaning to ask you what your story is all day."
The young dragon gulped nervously. “Are you sure? My life was pretty… boring before coming here.” His voice trailed off as his attention lingered on the field of flowers. His shoulders sagged like a heavy burden had appeared from nowhere.
Cornelia leaned in and pulled on his chin until he was facing her. There was a deep sadness in his eyes, the eyes of someone who lost everything. She smiled her warm, motherly smile and said, “What’s ‘boring’ to you is new to me. Even just saying it out loud might help you feel better. You have to process this whole ordeal sooner or later.”
Ragnar sighed. “Maybe.” He didn’t sound convinced but continued anyway. “I feel like it all started just a month ago now…”
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Category Story / All
Species Dragon (Other)
Size 120 x 120px
File Size 30.2 kB
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