by K L Rymer
The vampire shrugs, flipping her hair. “What can I say? A beauty with brains after all.”
“And you...” The headmaster turns my way. “You want to know what house you were meant to be in, Bryn?”
I blink. “The anticipation is killing me...”
“Very well. Audacious.”
I stop a moment to let his words sink in. I smile to myself.
I knew it. I am brave.
Myrddin looks at Zahara and Damien. “But you two... you truly are Mendacious. You embrace everything that is dark and corrupt. I’m sorry.”
The demon and the Unseelie aren’t the least distressed by his revelation. They just stare at the headmaster with blank expressions.
“Well, we do love the colour black after all,” Zahara muses. “Matches our souls.”
Felicity fusses next, flapping her hands. “N-no! You both have good qualities too, right, everyone?”
The pixie peers around the campfire. No one comes to her aid. Sure, Damien has a soft spot for Felicity, but to everyone else, he is a jackass. And don’t get me started on Zahara.
“Oh, no one asked you, Tinkerbell,” Zahara chimes in, swigging back a beer.
Felicity drops back onto her rock. Damien curls an arm around her, whispering, “It’s all right, Tinkerbell. I don’t mind being corrupt... for you...”
Her eyes shimmer as she gazes up at him adoringly. “Oh, Damien... I wouldn’t have you any other way...”
They go to kiss but the headmaster interrupts them with a cough, and they break apart.
Another silent stretch passes amongst us, and now we all just wait until Thomas arrives with a deer carcass. We’ll have to catch him up on the discussion and tell him what Myrddin informed us.
He was enlisting us for war all long. Messed up.
Merlin’s army... Kind of has a nice ring to it though.
Angelina breaks the awful silence. “Would you say that Matthew Humphrey was Audacious too, Professor?”
I don’t miss that dark shadow over her eyes. She still hates Matthew’s guts.
Myrddin peers into the crackling fire. “Yes. Matthew truly was meant to be Audacious. There isn’t a bad bone in his body, yet his father is still pulling him along. I couldn’t put him in Mendacious since I had other plans for him...”
My curiosity is piqued now as I sit up. “Other plans? You always told me I must defeat him and that he was my enemy. Was... was he meant to be in Mendacious too?”
The headmaster meets my eyes. “This doesn’t go beyond camp, but... Matthew Humphrey... he is half human too. His mother is a human woman. Not mage.”
I drop my chicken bone as Myrddin’s words sink in.
Well, if I’ll be damned.
Chapter 22.
Myrddin told us all about Mattie’s mother.
She was born two-hundred years ago, so that would explain why she would be old enough to have birthed a two-hundred-year-old mage.
But she got very ill, becoming bedbound as a result. In the end, Matthew Humphrey III put her in a magical coma to preserve her body, telling Mattie he would wake her when the humans found a cure for her ailment.
Well, that was what he told Mattie officially. But really he kept her around so he could control his son and manipulate him, and boy it worked.
Mattie’s his puppet now. He does exactly what Father says...
I’d found out that Mattie had lied to me the first day I met him. He told me that he aged a year every ten years. But really he had aged normally like any other human child until his aging gradually slowed down, which was why he always looks so young.
All supernaturals borne of humans will have to face the inevitable outcome of outliving their parents. I myself will live in a world without my mother, and it breaks my heart.
I’d heard everyone else’s stories by the campfire. Luckily, Nora, Felicity, and Zahara never met their fathers, but Jack had known his. He has been dead nearly a hundred years now.
Since Thomas is actually twenty years old like me, his mother’s still alive. She currently lives in London, and Thomas too will have to face a future without her. He doesn’t even know his shifter father.
Angelina never met her mother. She had always lived with her vampire father in Transylvania, but her mother had been a beautiful woman. It was where she got her looks.
Damien’s story is the saddest. We learn that he had never actually met his father until after his mother died, which is shocking.
I’d always assumed he was raised in hell. He’d aged naturally at the start and had lived with her until she was an old woman, and in the end, he’d had to watch her die. The whole time I listened to his story, I had a lump in my throat.
That would most likely be mine and Thomas’s fate. We’re going to be holding our mother’s hands while we watch her die, a person who had raised us, and it really is a curse to be part human/part supernatural. Truly.
We talked the whole night in the end. None of us got any sleep, and before long it was sunrise. But being able to see the sun rising over the valley was a sight to behold.
Brynmawr got his deer in the end. It was quite alarming to see that oversized German shepherd dragging that poor, dead creature along. When he dropped it in front of the dragon, Thomas had nearly lost his head.
The poor dragon must have been really hungry. He went straight in for the kill. It was a big deer too, and I’m starting to see Thomas in a new light. A sexy new light.
I’d love to see him hunt one day...
I’m with Zahara. Katy really is boring.
Unfortunately for the Unseelie and I, Thomas disappeared once again to retrieve his clothes, and we never got to see him shift back in all his naked glory.
We really are perverts.
Myrddin stretches as he gazes out over the sun-kissed valley. “My, what a lovely morning, but it’s about time we got back. Classes recommence once again tomorrow.”
We left for Dinas Emrys Saturday morning and stayed through the night. It’s Sunday now.
“Yes, sir,” we all oblige as we make a start on teleporting back to the academy.
We still never decided what we’re going to do with Brynmawr, and I glance back at the dragon. He chews on one of the deer’s antlers like a dog with a bone, his belly remarkably larger now, and the thought of leaving him hurts.
No. I refuse to leave my dragon. I will skip classes at both the academy and Bangor if I have to.
“But what about Brynmawr? What should we do with him?”
Myrddin looks back at said dragon. The dragon lies on his back, exposing his belly to the sky, and the scales there are lighter and goldish in color.
The headmaster turns my way again. “We will return tomorrow. Besides, I have a good idea of where we can hide him now.”
“Ooh, tell me.”
He grins mischievously, placing an arm around my shoulder. “You will soon see, Bryn. Now come along.”
I peer back over my shoulder. A few of the others are already saying goodbye to Brynmawr. Felicity even climbs up and hugs his belly, but the dragon can barely lift his head. It seems he’s still digesting that deer.
That’s what he gets for eating too quickly.
I’m not surprised to see Angelina has already vanished. She doesn’t care much for Brynmawr, and the feeling is mutual.
“I just want to say goodbye first,” I say.
“Very well.”
Myrddin had tried to say goodbye too, but the dragon puffed smoke into his face.
I stop by that giant, scaly beast as he opens one of those golden eyes.
His eyeball is bigger than my head...
I drop to my knees and gaze into that honey-toned iris, and there’s my reflection staring back at me. I can’t help but notice how his eye tapers when he regards me, and it really is like looking at an oversized cat.
I won’t dare stroke his belly though. I’ll just get clawed at. Felicity was brave.
“Well, I’m going back to the academy now. Bu
t I will be back. I promise.”
His mouth curves and he exposes his teeth. A deer hoof sticks between his gums and I grimace.
Ugh, gross...
“It’s been a pleasure to meet you, prophesised rider of mine...”
My heart pounds. That’s right. I’m totally meant to ride this dragon.
“You... you will really let me ride you? Just like that? I do watch DreamWorks’ movies, you know. I know it’s not that easy. You’re not exactly a tame dragon.”
He chuckles and closes his eye again. “Ugh... I haven’t felt so stuffed in years. Do... do you think you could move the piece of bone between my teeth? It’s been driving me nuts.”
I pull a face. “S-sure...”
I have to do as he asks. Otherwise, he won’t let me ride him.
“Don’t fear, Bryn... I may still let you ride me... But I would be ever so grateful if you removed this deer’s foot from my molar.”
I take a deep breath. “All right.”
He opens his mouth wider and I gag. His breath is atrocious. The stench of rotten flesh, but I move my hand inside and remove that deer’s hoof, trusting him completely.
I know he won’t try anything.
I toss the slobbery deer hoof aside and he exhales, blowing hot air all over my face. My hair wafts away, and I hold my lungs.
He really does have death breath...
“You know I can hear your thoughts?”
I smile sheepishly. “S-sorry... I’m just not accustomed to picking a dragon’s teeth, that’s all.”
His yellow eye finds me again, and it narrows once more. “That’s fine. Maybe one day I will allow you to brush my teeth.”
I stare, aghast. “Ex-excuse me?”
He snickers once more, and the sound is like a growl. “The boy wizard is waiting for you. He keeps glancing at a fancy pocket watch.”
I turn to find the headmaster tapping his golden pocket watch. I roll my eyes. Time to go.
I stand and place a palm to Brynmawr’s cheek, and I notice his scales don’t burn me this time. That would explain why Felicity could get so up-close and personal with him.
Had he been producing the heat as a protective barrier? He does breathe fire after all. Maybe it’s another ability dragons have?
“Bryn, time to go...” Myrddin calls out.
I make a move as I call over my shoulder. “I will be back again tomorrow after class.”
His mouth curves into a smiling sneer. “I look forward to it, Bryn...”
...
As promised, I went back to Dinas Emrys after classes finished via teleportation pin.
I really need to learn to teleport on my own someday. I’ve been at the academy for nearly two years.
I went alone this time, save for Gelert. He was too chicken to come with us Saturday, but I coaxed him out of my room in the end.
I have no idea what he has to be so afraid of. He’s already dead, and besides... he took on a wolf once.
A wolf is a molehill compared to the mountain-like stature of a dragon, but still. He needs to find that courage again.
I teleport on top of the hill, holding onto Gelert. The ghost dog shivers as he tucks his tail between his legs, whimpering.
Luckily for him, Brynmawr is nowhere in sight and I panic.
It looks like he finally digested that deer and decided to spread his wings.
Oh no... what... what if someone has spotted him?
Gelert yelps and lowers to the ground, placing his paws over his snout, and if it isn’t the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.
What’s got him so worked up?
A sudden gust of wind takes me by surprise and I blow forwards onto the grass, whipping my head around.
A large red dragon lands down on the hilltop beside me, flapping its great wings as they cause a mini gale, and his feet send shockwaves through the earth.
I gulp, trying to calm my erratic heart.
I know we’re friends now, but the sight of a big ass red dragon is still going to take some getting used to.
Brynmawr folds his bat wings elegantly to his sides, and they almost resemble worn leather.
I take him all in then, unable to believe what I am seeing.
It’s the Red Frigging Dragon. The one that flaps on every Welsh flag.
I don’t even think Brynmawr knows how famous he is. I doubt he’s gone near any Welsh town yet. Well, I sure hope he hasn’t.
I gaze at his scales and it’s like looking at shining red armor. I’d love to pluck a scale off him and put it beneath a microscope as I did with Gwyneira, but I doubt Brynmawr will allow it.
Now I peer at his claws. They’re almost as long as my arms and my heart palpitates once again.
Thank goodness he’s a gentle dragon.
Not like his ice-maiden of an ex-girlfriend, who would gladly cut me to shreds.
I find his dinosaur-like face, and for a moment I’m shocked to see that raised brow above one of his golden eyes. I blink.
I’m so used to seeing lizards and other reptiles as these cold, unfeeling creatures, I forget how intelligent dragons actually are.
For one, dragons aren’t particularly cold-blooded. Their blood could melt steel...
And they’re even smarter than humans. So when a dragon chooses to be a deadly force of nature, such as Gwyneira, it’s even more terrifying. They consciously choose to predate on humans, and I shiver.
“What is it?”
I startle, glancing back up at that dragon. His brow is still raised in that questioning manner, and I can’t believe how expressive his face is. His yellow eyes shimmer with concern as they assess me, and I breathe a sigh.
I have nothing to worry about with Brynmawr. He’s perfectly harmless.
“Do I have something stuck in my teeth again?”
He bares his fangs and my stomach gurgles when I see that wool and blood.
Looks like someone gorged on a fluffy, white sheep.
“Actually, it was two fluffy sheep. And one goat...”
I climb back to my feet, crossing my arms. “What did we warn you, Brynmawr? You can’t go hunting in plain sight.”
He narrows his eyes, and I can see he doesn’t take too kindly to being bossed around by prey. “I stayed within the Snowdonia mountain range. These were wild sheep. No farmer will miss them.”
“What if there were people around?”
He blinks and I can see I’ve left him stupefied. “If your modern television series are anything to go by, then other humans will just think them crazy. Dragons don’t exist, remember...”
Brynmawr winks and I throw my hands up. “You’re impossible!”
“Well, it’s as you said, Bryn the human. I’m not exactly a tame dragon. I need to roam and hunt. I’m making up for lost time...”
“I can see... Poor sheep.” I plonk my butt onto a rock, gazing at the remains of the fire from Saturday.
Gelert still crouches on the ground. If he were a living dog, he’d have shit himself by now.
“Well, well, well, what have we got here...?” Brynmawr leans down and sniffs Gelert, and a bewildered expression takes over his red, scaled face. “It looks like a dog but it smells... In fact, it has no smell... What is it? It’s neither here nor there...”
I smile. “Gelert is a ghost. Another local celebrity I suppose. In fact, he’s the same dog from that sad tale Myrddin told me about, remember? The one that helped me cry into the font? He died in the 13th century. You would have been under Dinas Emrys for seven hundred years by that point, so I guess you won’t really know of him.”
Brynmawr’s scales turn five shades lighter if that’s even possible, and he glances back down at Gelert again fearfully. The dog still shivers, covering his face with his paws. Now the dragon backs off, stretching his wings.
“A g-ghost?”
A smile creeps at the corners of my lips. “Please don’t tell me that you’re scared of ghosts, Brynmawr...?”
The dragon swallows, and I see
that lump go down his long throat, and a laugh bursts from my lips. Now I fall off the rock, slapping my hand against the grass as my cackles echo around the hill.
“I... I can’t... Jesus! A d-dragon.... s-scared of ghosts!”
I can’t stop, wiping my eyes.
“There are many things I can tolerate, Bryn the human, but... a g-ghost.... I can’t... I’m... I’m out of here...”
Brynmawr flaps his giant wings and he soars into the air next, and I shoot my head back up, grinding my teeth. “Hey, get back here, chicken! He’s just a little dog! Besides, it’s the living you should fear! Not the dead!”
Yeah, he’s already disappeared into the clouds, and I grumble to myself.
Fantastic. My ghost dog and my dragon are scared of each other.
Chapter 23.
The dragon came back eventually, and now I make Brynmawr and Gelert stand side by side, and the difference in size is baffling. Gelert looks like a mouse in comparison.
Neither of them acknowledges each other. They both shiver in the other’s presence, and I pinch my brows.
“This is ridiculous. Brynmawr, how can you be scared of ghosts? Look at you!”
The dragon hangs his head. “I... may have watched one too many scary movies during my time under the hill. They... play on your imagination at times...”
“I get that. I still can’t watch the Grudge to this day, but come on! Look at him. He’s cute as a button. He is the size of a button compared to you.”
Brynmawr peers down at the ghost dog curiously now, and the dog whimpers when he meets those golden eyes. His tail’s still stuck between his legs.
“I... suppose he is rather precious. Nice brown eyes.”
“And Gelert.” I peer at the shivering dog now. “Stop being such a wimp. What harm could Brynmawr do? You’re already dead.”
The dog dips his head and cries, and I feel so bad, but someone needs to tell him.
The dragon regards me coldly now. “Well, that was a bit harsh.”
I stare at him incredulously. “Are you being serious?”
Brynmawr stamps his foot. “Of course I’m serious.” He glances back down at the dog again. “Gelert, don’t listen to her. You’re as real as the day you saved your master’s young child. You’re... a good boy...”