The Old Dragon of the Mountain's Christmas

by S. E. Smith

  “Leave him,” Lemar demanded, glancing at Christoff with anger. “If he cannot fly, let him run.”

  “Lemar,” their mother whispered in distress. “You know Christoff cannot fly. Help your father carry him. I will follow with his symbiot.”

  “No! He shouldn’t have lived! Let the Goddess take him. He is weak,” Lemar argued as his symbiot created a cover for him when the hot ash began to ignite small fires. “You have always protected him. Now it is time to protect yourself. Come with me.”

  “No!” Tasmay cried, pulling her arm away. “You have always treated Christoff as if he was unworthy, when in truth, it is you that is unworthy. No warrior would leave someone who is weaker behind,” she whispered as a line of dirty tears coursed down her cheeks. “We need your help, Lemar. Please.”

  Lemar’s face twisted as Tallon turned to stare at him. Christoff was about to tell his parents that Lemar was right, that maybe this was the Goddess’ way of telling him that he shouldn’t have lived when another explosion, this one larger than before, knocked them all to the ground. Christoff’s face reflected his fear when he saw the ground opening across the valley and heading toward them.

  “Fly!” Lemar shouted in terror as he shifted.

  “Lemar!” Tallon roared in pain, turning as his oldest son rose into the ash-filled sky. “Lemar!”

  “Father,” Christoff said in a quiet voice filled with resignation. “Go. Take mother and go. Lemar and the others are right. If I cannot survive on my own, it is the Goddess’ way of showing that I am too weak.”

  Tallon turned to look at his youngest son’s face. He saw the acceptance that he would not make it. Refusing to believe that any boy with so much heart was not also a powerful warrior, he shifted despite the shaft of wood in his upper thigh.

  Christoff turned to watch as his father lifted off the ground. A moment later, his mother shifted and lifted off the ground as well. He raised his hand in farewell, only to gasp when his father’s dragon reached down and wrapped one clawed foot around his wrists.

  “Father, no!” Christoff protested, lifting his other hand up to try to break free. He gasped when his mother grabbed his other wrist in her claw. “Mother! I’m too heavy, especially with father’s injury. Leave me and take care of him.”

  Christoff tried to stop them, but they refused. He felt his feet leave the ground. He ran as best he could under them as they pumped frantically on their wings.

  “Leave me, please,” Christoff cried as he saw the small holes that began appearing on the wings of his parent’s dragons. As fast as their symbiots tried to heal them, more would appear. “Please!”

  He cried out when a large piece of flaming debris fell from the sky, shattering one of his mother’s wings. He watched in horror as she tumbled to the ground. His father, unable to carry his weight alone with his injuries, was forced to release him as he struggled to reach his injured mate.

  Christoff hit the ground hard and rolled. Glancing up, he scrambled to his feet when he saw his father land next to his mother. He was almost to them when the ground shook again. His father looked up at him, staring in regret as he held his mate in his arms.

  “I love you, son,” Tallon said brokenly, gathering his mate’s limp body closer to him. “You have always been a true warrior to us.”

  “No!” Christoff whispered as the ground disintegrated around his parents. “NO!” he screamed, lunging forward with his hand reaching for them as they disappeared into the open crevice. “NO! Please, Goddess, no!” he cried again, sobbing as he stared down into the deep abyss.

  Rolling onto his back, he stared up at the mountain. He ignored the stinging embers of hot ash as they burned through his clothing. He no longer felt the pain from the rain of rocks and hot ash that continued to fall around him. He didn’t even feel the burning of smoke from the numerous fires. Staring up at the mountain, he knew that he had to calm it. He also believed that he was the only one who could.

  Pushing up off the ground, he called to his dragon and his symbiot. Shifting, he knew that he could not fly to the top of the mountain and ask for it to accept his life in exchange for the people of the village. Instead, he drew in a deep breath and began to run. He ran through the falling ash. He ran through the rain of rocks. He jumped over the deep crevice that stretched the valley. The closer he got to the mountain, the quieter it became.

  When he reached the base of it, he started to climb. He climbed higher and higher with a determination, a focus, which defied his disability and air of frailty. His claws became bloody from the numerous cuts, but Christoff ignored that as well. When his dragon could not climb, he shifted and continued in his two legged form. His symbiot helped him, becoming a rope when he needed it and healing the deeper cuts so he could continue. By the time he reached the top, the mountain had grown quiet once again.

  Christoff stood on a large ledge, looking down at the destruction to the valley, village, and his home. A wave of deep sorrow coursed through him. Unable to contain his grief, he tilted his head back and roared. In the distance, the villagers who had fled turned to the sound. They all heard the terrible sorrow in the haunting cry and they saw the small, frail boy-dragon standing at the top of the mountain. For just a moment, a glow of gold surrounded him, transforming him into a mighty warrior before he turned and disappeared into the once again quiet mountain.

  Chapter One

  Present Day:

  Christoff sighed as he felt the rumble in the mountain. The activity inside it had been growing stronger each day for the past several months. He had traveled down through the numerous lava tunnels that had been created over the centuries to check on it. He knew each by heart since he had escaped to the top of the mountain when he was still just a boy.

  His fingers dropped to his side and he gently stroked the golden symbiot pressed against his leg. It and his dragon had been his only companion all these long, lonely years. Several times he had tried to send his symbiot back to the hive where it had been created, but each time it refused to leave him, knowing that to do so would be certain death for him and his dragon.

  “You should go,” he murmured affectionately to his companion. “There is little time left for me and my dragon.”

  Images flashed through his mind of times when they climbed for hours to find a particularly good view of the valley far below. There were other times when his symbiot would sneak down to the valley and bring him and his dragon a special treat or new clothing that would cause some unsuspecting villager to wonder what had happened to it. An unfamiliar burning came to his eyes when he saw the vivid reminders of their days together.

  “I want you….” Christoff shook his head and pushed past the symbiot to step closer to the mouth of his cave. He swallowed past the lump in his throat and glanced down at the golden creature given to him by the Goddess at his birth. “I want you to promise me you will go before the mountain wakes again. I fear I will not be able to calm it this time. I need to know that you are safe. Both my dragon and I need it, my friend.”

  Christoff turned when he heard a strange and unfamiliar sound carried upward by the wind. Tilting his head, he frowned and concentrated. It sounded like… younglings, very, very young younglings. His lips curved in a surprisingly amused smile when he caught what they were saying.

  “I’s tired,” a young girl complained in a slightly grouchy tone. “I’s not going to complain when mommy says it’s nap-thirty no more.”

  “Me’s neither,” said the other one. “I’s hope he’s in a good mood.”

  Christoff knelt down and peered at the ledge as first one, then another small body came over the side. He watched in curiosity as one of the little girls rolled to her feet and put her tiny hands on her hips. He was able to catch a brief glimpse of a scowl on her face before she turned her back to him. It was obvious that she wasn’t very happy.

  “Who?” The girl demanded, looking at the other little girl as she climbed over and pulled a bag in front of her.

  �
�The old dragon,” the girl responded with an exasperated tone. “’Cause I might have to be like daddy and threatens to beat him up if he isn’t.”

  Christoff bit back a chuckle and shook his head. Turning, he raised his eyebrow at his symbiot who was crouching beside him. It was in the shape of a large Werecat. It must have liked what it saw because its tail was flickering back and forth, as if in delight.

  He turned his head back to stare down at the little girls. His fingers gripped the rock wall beside him when the mountain shook violently.

  The little girl with the bag had risen just as the mountain began to shake. She took a step forward before falling backwards toward the edge. He knew immediately that she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from falling over the side. Rising, he surged forward with a speed and agility born from centuries of climbing the steep cliffs of the mountain.

  He reached up and over the one little girl to grab the other. His hand wrapped around the tiny wrist and he lifted her, careful not to harm her, into his arms. He started to reach for the other when their loud screams pierced the air. With a sigh of resignation, Christoff realized that not much had changed over the years.

  Christoff tried to relax the stern expression on his face. He couldn’t help but admit that he had been so fascinated by seeing the two unexpected figures and listening to what they were saying that he had forgotten the dangerous situation that they were in. He had been terrified when he saw the one young girl almost fall to her death. He stared down at the frightened, young face, trying to put his thoughts into words. He tilted his head and nodded when one of them spoke.

  “You’s the Old Dragon, aren’t’s you?” The first little girl that had climbed onto the ledge asked. “Wells? Aren’t’s you?”

  “Yes, I guess I am,” Christoff replied in a rusty voice. “Who are you and why are you on my mountain?”

  “She’s Amber and’s I’s Jade,” the little girl in his arms said with a slightly superior tone. “We’s gots more energys than the others, so’s we’s comes to finds you.”

  “Yeahs, we’s needs your help,” Amber responded.

  “You should not be here,” Christoff said, bending so he could set Jade down. “Where are your parents?”

  “They is at homes,” Jade said with a frown. “You’s gots to goes helps our friends. They’s hurt.”

  “Somes of thems are hurts,” Amber corrected.

  “How many?” Christoff asked in concern, motioning for his symbiot to shift and locate the other younglings.

  Amber rolled her eyes at him and shook her head. “We’s don’t’s knows ‘cause we’s don’t’s knows how to counts yet,” she grumbled.

  “There’s Zohar and Bálint and Jabir and Alice and Roam and Spring and Phoenix and us,” Jade said with a frown. “I’s thinks that’s alls of us.”

  “Go into the cave,” Christoff ordered, walking toward the edge. “Go and don’t come out. I will be back shortly with your friends.”

  He saw both girls nod their heads and turn to hurry toward his home. Fear swept through him with the knowledge that even there, they wouldn’t be safe for long. The tremors were coming closer and closer together. He could only hope that the other younglings would be safe until he could reach them. After that, he didn’t know what he would do.

  Christoff focused on his symbiot. It had located several of the younglings and was moving down to several more. He carefully calculated where he needed to step and grip to keep his balance. Within minutes, he had reached the section where a young girl with light blonde hair sat next to the still body of a young cub. Another young boy and a dark-haired girl sat protectively on either side of the other two.

  Christoff had never seen a Sarafin cub in person before, but he had seen pictures of them. These younglings continued to surprise him, he thought as he jumped down onto the narrow ledge. His gaze swept over the unconscious cub. He quickly noted the boy’s bloody paws and crooked tail.

  “Can’s you make the mountain quit shaking, please?” The little girl asked in a trembling voice. “It’s scary.”

  Christoff watched as she continued to tenderly stroke the small furry head lying in her lap. He swallowed at the love and fear in the little girl’s eyes. The only one that had ever looked at him that way had been his mother.

  “He’s hurt?” Christoff asked in a husky voice.

  “Yes. He try to helps Jabir,” she whispered. “I’s thoughts Roams was goings to die. He’s don’t’s knows it’s yet, buts we’s goings to always be’s togethers. The goddess showed me we weres.”

  Christoff stared at the pair for a moment before he nodded. Glancing over his shoulder at the edge, he turned and walked over to the side. He knelt and looked down; three more younglings were on a ledge below him. His hands gripped the edge when the mountain trembled again, causing small rocks to rain down on the group below.

  “Stay here,” he ordered as he called to his symbiot.

  They would need to hurry. He needed to get the younglings to safety. He could take them up to the top and have his symbiot transport them to the village. It would take precious time he wasn’t sure that they had, though. Christoff focused on the huge golden eagle that his symbiot had shifted into as it appeared out of the clouds. With a silent command, it flew down and landed over the children. The symbiot protectively spread its wings to shelter them from the falling rocks.

  Satisfied that the younglings were safe for the moment, he turned and swiftly climbed down to the lower ledge. He raised his eyebrow and smiled in amusement when the two young males growled at him when he stepped closer and knelt down next to the female. She looked so small and fragile that he hesitated for a moment before touching her.

  His fingers brushed along the white strands as he gently stroked her pale cheek. “What happened?” he asked gruffly, turning his gaze back to the two boys.

  “She saved me,” one of the small boys replied in a voice trembling with fear and exhaustion. “It was too muches for her. She fell asleep and won’t wakes up.”

  Christoff nodded before bending to carefully cradle the small figure in his arms. He paused, startled, when one of the boys stood up and pressed his small hand against his chest. His gaze locked with the boy’s serious one. There was no doubt of the hint of warning in it.

  “You’s better not hurts her. I’s Alice’s protector,” the youngling growled.

  Christoff couldn’t stop the smile. With a bow of his head, he rose to his feet. He wasn’t sure where these younglings came from, but there was no doubt that they were very protective of each other.

  “Rest easy, young warrior. I won’t hurt your young charge,” Christoff vowed in a tone that conveyed his determination to keep his word.

  Making a decision that his cave was momentarily the safest place for them all, he knelt back down and nodded to the two boys. He needed to get them healed so that he could get them off the mountain. He wasn’t absolutely sure how he would accomplish that, but he would find a way or die trying.

  “Climb onto my back and hold on,” he ordered before he shifted into his dragon form.

  The two boys clung to his short wings as Christoff grabbed the uneven rock surface and began climbing, using just one arm, his back legs, and his tail to steady him. Once he was on the upper level, he ordered his symbiot to shift again, this time into a small transport. He laid the tiny girl in the seat while the two boys climbed off his back so they could sit next to her.

  He didn’t waste any time. Bending, he carefully picked up the Sarafin cub. His hand instinctively ran over the cub’s head when it whimpered and turned to look up at him with frightened eyes. Swallowing, he smiled down at the cub in what he hoped was a reassuring manner as he carefully placed him in the transport as well. Turning, he helped the others in. It was all his symbiot could do to accommodate the small bodies.

  “Take them to the cave,” he ordered in a stern voice as he stepped back.

  “What’s about you?” One of the boys asked with a frown. “You’s got
to come too.”

  “My symbiot isn’t as large as most warriors’,” Christoff explained even as he started to turn away. “I will climb. It is not far. Go now.”

  Chapter Two

  Christoff realized as he climbed that no one was safe as long as they remained close to the mountain. He could not order his symbiot to take them to the village. They would need to be taken further away. He glanced down over his shoulder, gripping the rock face even as the mountain rumbled again. He wasn’t sure if his symbiot could hold two more younglings, but it might not have a choice. There was no way he would let any of them be left behind.

  It didn’t take long for him to climb back up to the ledge leading to his cave. He quickly pulled himself up onto the flat shelf that protruded outward. Standing, he quickly strode into the dark interior that made up his home. He had ordered his symbiot to immediately begin healing the younglings as soon as they were safely inside. He wasn’t sure if it would be able to, as it was smaller than most of the symbiots given to a warrior, but he knew that it would do its best.

  Christoff jerked to a stop, staring in amazement at what should have been a dark, desolate area. He had never done much to the inside of the cave. It is where he slept, ate, and read. He had never found a need to decorate it. He lived on the top of a mountain with the beautiful view of the valley far below and the clouds above.

  Now, he stood frozen in mid-stride, trying desperately to comprehend the transformation inside the dark walls of the cave. Slowly stepping forward, he gazed in wonder at the dozens of colorful lights that hung awkwardly along the jagged walls. Every corner of the cave was lit up by the brightly colored, battery-powered lights.

  His gaze swept the room, pausing on the single table that he used for everything from carving to reading to eating. In the center of it was a small, pitiful-looking tree with round, colorful balls. It sat tilted at an odd angle and looked like it had seen better days.