John shook his head and laughed. "You're an even greater fool than I thought. Which dragon races have blond hair, Kal? Answer me that. Not the Blue or Green Dragons, which wiped out most of your family when they ineptly lost Greytower."
The rest of the class had no idea what John was talking about, referring to a passage of history that was rarely referred to, when the great city of Greytower was lost by Kal's ancestors, but this statement clearly enraged Kal. "How dare you!" Kal screamed, launching himself at John. John merely pushed a chair forwards with his feet, which Kal tripped over, landing sprawled on the floor. John walked calmly towards the window and continued talking.
"No, not the Blue or the Green Dragons, and neither the Rhino Dragons, who have dark brown hair. Even the Sandy Dragons didn't have the golden hair that Crystal and I do, theirs was more like dirty sand. Yellow, I grant you, but quite different to ours. Theirs is more like straw than gold."
"What's your point, half and half?" Kal snarled, pulling himself off the floor. "There are other dragon races."
"Everyone return to your seats!" the professor shouted.
John ignored him and continued. "Yes, there are other races, but in our 1000 years of recorded history, we haven't seen a single dragon race where they have blonde hair, have we, Kal? Suggesting it's our great grandmother is a bit of a stretch, isn't it?"
Kal paused. "So what? So it's your great, great, great, great, great, great grandmother. Still makes you, makes you…"
"I think you're a bit short of greats there, Kal. I guess maths isn't your strong point, and if it were from twenty or thirty generations ago, chances are that we're all related to her. How do you know that your blood is so pure? Warrior family like yours, I expect that your ancestors were fond of entertaining themselves with their prisoners. Perhaps one was your great grandmother."
Kal tried to lunge at him again, but this time, the professor grabbed hold of him. "Sit down!" the professor shouted. "This stops now. I will not have any more fighting."
Kal shook him off and picked up his seat. "I won't forget this, John," he growled menacingly. John shrugged and returned to his seat.
"What did you mean, John?" Arthur asked.
"Sorry?" John asked.
"You said that Kal thinks that was the only explanation. Even if it happened a long time ago, it's still the same explanation, surely."
"One explanation," John replied. "There are others. They're just not widely known."
"Like what?" Arthur asked. "I can't think of any."
John frowned. "If you read our histories, as I have done, you'll notice a distinct lack of our people being born with any colour other than red, or blonde. Yet, we've had plenty of other neighbours, but no record of blue, or green, or black, or brown, or sandy yellow, or the hair colour of any of our former neighbours. We know that a Red father and a Blue mother will give a Red child, as it has happened, although a very long time ago, and it happened with many of our neighbours, until King Cornelius the wise banned having relations with prisoners. Why don't any of their descendants appear, and blonde children do appear? Children with blue hair were only seen if their mothers, grandmothers or great grandmothers were Blue Dragons. It's clearly very different for people like Crystal and me. Why do you think that is?"
"I don't know," Arthur replied impatiently. "Aren't you going to tell us?"
John looked at the professor. "You're not, are you, sir? You don't know the answer to that question. But you've noticed this as well, haven't you?"
The professor glared at him, but was also keen to know the answer. "Just answer his question, John and that will be the end of this discussion. I'm in half a mind to put the whole class in detention."
John paused. "The answer to that question is not in our history books. I doubt there is a Red Dragon alive who knows the answer."
"Then why ask the question?" the Professor exclaimed in frustration. "You're just wasting our time."
"Not really; not asking the question, sir, is why no one knows the answer. I'm just trying to get everyone to think about it. How is that a waste of time?"
The Professor had no answer, and lost patience with the discussion and brought everyone's attention back to his lesson.
After the lesson, John dashed out of the room quickly, hoping to avoid any further questions. As he did, he bumped into Seth.
"Have you seen Crystal?" he asked breathlessly. "I can't find her anywhere in the school."
"No, of course I haven't," John replied. "The lesson has just finished. I've only just left the room."
"Well, I've looked everywhere. I don't know where she went."
John paused. "And, why are you telling me?"
Seth shrugged awkwardly. "I thought you might help me find her. She told me that you follow her sometimes. You might know where she is."
"Yes, but you seem to be forgetting that she doesn't really like me. I don't think my coming with you is a good idea."
Daisy suddenly appeared from around a corner. "Hi, John. I'm glad I found you. I have a few questions about what you said."
John groaned inwardly, having resolved to try and avoid her in order to save her from becoming as unpopular as he was. "Sorry, Daisy, not now. Seth needs my help to find Crystal. I think she's pretty upset. Come on, Seth, this way."
"Hey, you changed your tune," Seth called after him as they ran down the corridor towards the entrance to the courtyard outside. "I thought you didn't think this was a good idea."
"Did I?" John replied. "Well, that doesn't matter now. I just had an idea about where she might be." John ran across the courtyard to a tower, and entered and ran up the stairs. Seth was too far behind to respond. The tower was not particularly high, but Seth was wheezing by the time he caught up with John.
"You alright there, Seth?" John asked casually, as Seth leaned on the wall for support, and gasped for air. Seth nodded, but couldn't respond. "There was me thinking that I was the one that was out of shape. Get your breath back; then follow me. I'll circle to get some height."
Before Seth could answer, John leapt from the tower, transforming in mid-air. He had barely fallen a metre before he had fully transformed, his outstretched wings catching the up-draught. He circled the tower, gaining altitude, glancing back to where Seth was transforming at the top of the tower, before taking off to follow him. He was over one hundred metres away, but could hear Seth's voice clearly in his head.
You didn't mention flying, Seth objected, clearly unsure about his own ability.
Our eyes are more sensitive like this, and we can move more quickly. I saw you in class; you seem to know what you're doing already. Besides, I think I know where she will be, and it's a long walk or a very short flight. Follow me.
John veered south, and beat his wings twice to gain speed before settling into a fast glide. Seth was falling behind, but he wouldn't get lost, as he would be able to see John even when he was a long way ahead. He headed straight towards Crystal's home, and then straight past it, flying above the fields behind her house. Way below him, he could see her hurrying along a path towards the stream. Her stream, the one he had spotted her lying beside on the first day he saw her.
Have you seen her? Seth called from behind him. Even from as far as way as he was, his voice was very loud inside John's head.
Yes, John replied. She's headed along that path towards the stream. She won't have seen us up here, so let's just wait for her at the end of the path, where it meets the stream.
Crystal disappeared into a wooded area, and was hidden by the trees. John pulled his wings close to his body and dived towards the stream, halting the dive metres above the ground before transforming back to his human form, landing lightly on the ground. Seth's landing was less graceful, transforming slowly after landing. Crystal burst into the clearing by the stream and stared at them with surprise.
"You! What are you doing here?" Her eyes were red and tears were running down her face, but she looked angry rather than upset.
"I, wel
l, we, wanted to see if you were alright," Seth answered sheepishly. He wasn't expecting her to be angry. Crystal ignored him, glaring angrily at John.
"You knew, didn't you?" she said accusingly. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"I've wanted to tell you many things," John replied. "You told me to leave you alone."
Crystal looked furious. "This! This is different. You've just tried to talk to me about boring things. Yes, you told me we were different. Special. But you could have easily told me how we were different. Rather than letting Kal humiliate me in front of everyone."
"No one was laughing, Crystal," Seth said. "No one likes him, not really."
"Shut up, Seth," she retorted. "That's a lie and you know it. So, what else haven't you told me?"
John shook his head. "A lot. What do you want to know?"
"Well for a start, about interbreeding. You seem to know more about this than anyone. What hasn't that idiot of a teacher told us?"
"Depends what you want to know. It hasn't happened for a long time in this kingdom—at least not as far as anyone knows. In the Blue Kingdom, it happens a lot."
"And how would you know that?" Seth asked suspiciously.
"It's military history. Unfortunately, it wasn't known soon enough. No one knows how long it was going on, but the last keeper of records noticed a couple of patterns. When Blue Dragons raided small settlements, they actually attacked in larger numbers than when they attacked cities, which was considered to be very odd. Settlements of up to twenty could be wiped out in a single raid, and in the absence of survivors, the attacks could go unnoticed for quite a while, which we suspect was their intent. When this was finally discovered, something peculiar was noticed. All of the young males were slaughtered, and left where they were, but young females were missing. Shortly after that, in one of our retaliatory raids, three dragons were injured, but managed to crash land without dying. One of the raiders managed to hide before the Blue Dragons found them, but the other two were seen. One of them—a male—was killed instantly, but the other—a female warrior—was knocked unconscious, then bound and carried off, which was observed by the hidden raider, who managed to walk to safety and reported the incident. Nothing was thought of it at the time, as it was assumed she was taken for torture and questioning and for no other reason. Then the third and final piece of the clue was a report from another raid, where one of the surviving raiders reported observing two young men with red hair who he claimed both transformed into Blue Dragons. Again, it was dismissed at the time, but the Keeper of Records raised a theory to the council, that the Blue Dragons were capturing females to use for breeding to boost their own population, and had been for a long time. A few raids were conducted to find supporting evidence, and it became clear that there are quite a few Blue Dragons who have red hair as humans. Ever since then, females have not been allowed to go on retaliatory raids, and only serve as defenders. The Blue Dragon population was already much larger than the Red Dragon population. It seems they had found a way to increase their advantage."
"I can't believe it!" Crystal said. "Why would these girls willingly have Blue Dragon children?"
"What makes you think they do it willingly? Red Dragons may be larger and stronger, but there are ways to prevent you transforming. As a human, you're no stronger than they are. As a girl, you're weaker. Anyway, the Blue Dragons seemed to abandon this tactic sixteen years ago, and seemed to stop taking any prisoners, but I think they might have restarted."
Crystal closed her eyes and sat down. "And that is what was done to our ancestors? Prisoners of war taken from some blond-haired race?"
"No, that's not what was done to our ancestors," John replied. "I'm completely certain of that."
"How do you know that?" Seth asked. "You told the Professor no Red Dragon alive knows the answer to that question."
John said nothing for a moment, just staring at Crystal. "No Red Dragon alive does. But what we do know is that there's no record of contact or war with any blond-haired race, so no, that can't have been what happened. Besides which, as I told the class, after three or four generations no traces of the hair colour remains. Blondes, however, have popped up all throughout our history. Something very different explains why we have our hair colour. I'll leave you with Seth now, Crystal. Remember this: I've told you before; you and I are different. Special. But special in a good way, not the way Kal thinks."
John sprang up onto a rock, and before either of them could reply, he leapt off, transforming instantly and taking to the air. In a few seconds he was out of sight, flying low over the trees.
"How could he know that?" Seth asked. "If it's not in our history books, how could he have the answer?"
"No Red Dragon alive knows the answer, he said," Crystal said thoughtfully. What was John not telling her?
Chapter 9: Perak's return
Perak guided his remaining dragons back to their Army Camp, crossing the border with the Red Dragons before midday without encountering any of their patrols, which was very fortunate. Just past the border he met another flight of dragons that reported to him, having arranged for them to wait here in case they needed any reinforcements to handle any patrols.
Take the prisoners and process them, Flight Leader, he ordered. I will inspect them later; they had better be in the same condition as they are now.
Of course, sir. The Flight Leader transformed after they landed, and Perak passed him the gagged and bound prisoner he had gripped in his claws, before transforming himself. He left his men to take care of the prisoners, having left no doubt in their minds of what would happen if the captured girls weren't well looked after, and headed back to the headquarters to report on the success of his mission. Personally he was disappointed to have lost a man, but it would be considered an acceptable loss by his superiors and still far better than most raids on the Red Dragons. Disappointed, but not upset, as the man was clearly a fool and his death was inevitable; Perak's regret was allowing him to take part in the mission in the first place.
As he walked back to the army headquarters, Perak noticed another Squadron Commander ahead of him: Kessick, a loud arrogant fool who had unbelievably managed to keep pace with Perak in his rapid ascent up the ranks. From a young age, Perak and gifted individuals like him had been placed in a separate school, built to prepare them for military leadership, and the best of the school were chosen for a fast-track program to quickly progress through the ranks. Only three from that elite group of gifted young Blue Dragons had been selected for this fast track program, and Kessick was one of them. Perak hadn't understood how he had even managed to get into the school, let alone selected along with Perak and the other student. Where Perak had been chosen based on his strategic brilliance and ability to see past the limited, traditional approaches, Kessick had been chosen solely for his leadership skills. He had become the Squadron Commander of choice for leading big, showy attacks on major cities, endeavours which had the worst ratio for troops lost versus enemy kills. He appeared to revel in his reputation as a leader who took his men on suicide missions, and yet somehow managed to inspire men to volunteer to serve with him, a necessary ability considering the amount of soldiers he had to replace.
Perak never enjoyed his company, so slowed down to avoid meeting him.
Kessick appeared to be heading towards the headquarters as well, but fortunately never looked behind him, just shouting rude greetings at random passers-by. The report wouldn't be required for a few hours; although against his principles, he could delay delivering it to avoid this buffoon. He spied Eric talking to some of the men nearby. Perhaps he could use the time profitably…
"Eric, follow me."
Eric walked over without saying anything to his comrades. "Of course, sir. What are we to be doing?"
"Sword practice," Perak replied. "It's been too long since you trained; I don't want your standards to slip."
"No, sir. Of course."
In reality, it had been just a few days, and Eric was developing into an
excellent swordsman. He only had two other students, and they hadn't shown anywhere near the level of discipline that Eric had. They walked silently to the patch of grass behind Perak's tent.
"Take your sword," Perak said, holding out the training weapon. "We will start with some drills…"
"Perak, you're back!" It was Pan, a fellow Squadron Commander that Perak got on well with. A tall, slightly chubby fellow, who was nonetheless an excellent fighter as a dragon. "Successful mission I trust?"
Perak shrugged, lowering his sword. "They'll record it as one, but I lost a man. The end of a good run."
"I'm sorry to hear that. Was he a friend?"
"No, I don't even know the fool's name. He was a liability and died due to his own stupidity, and quite frankly my command is better off without him. Just spoils my record, that's all."
Pan nodded sympathetically. "Still, less than ten in total so far, isn't it? A record to be proud of, when you consider how many raids you have led."
"He was number seven. I've had a run of five without a loss, which is unheard of in the history of these raids. Now he's ruined it. All because he couldn't follow simple orders.
"Idiots slip through the ranks all the time. But they shouldn't burden you with them. Men like that should be kept for the city attacks, where they're expected to die."
Perak nodded enthusiastically. "I couldn't agree more! They should have an intelligence test, and all who fail it join the death and glory bunch. But was there something you wanted to speak to me about? I'm about to start training. We can't chat all day."
Pan shook his head. "I can't understand why you work so hard at training with these weapons. I understand your logic and why you favour the sword, but the Wing Commander will never allow them to be used widely."
Perak knew this only too well. He owned the only sharp sword in the division, a relic given to him by his father, and the Wing Commander he reported to only allowed him to carry it as he'd been ordered to by General Zygar himself, the head of the army and ruler of the Blue Dragon nation.
Becoming a Dragon Page 9