by Anna Rose
“Okay, I’ll go to the kitchens, but how is the dragon supposed to get out of the room? The door’s much too small for her,” Aya stepped out the door, into the daylight, and turned to watch what the dragon would do.
To her surprise, the dragon simply followed her to the door, and then went through the wall itself, as though it was not even there. Aya gasped and wavered in her tracks as she felt faint.
“Your dragon isn’t a physical being, Aya,” she dimly heard Dran telling her. “It is a part of your life energy. It only has as much substance as is necessary. If you need to fly together, she will have enough for you to sit on her back, but most times, it will be as you just saw.”
“I – “
“Just go to the kitchens and eat as much as you need. Think of it as eating for the both of you. If you don’t eat, your dragon will have trouble staying solid when you need her to be, and that could be dangerous for you both.”
Aya obediently wandered back to the kitchen cavern and availed herself of a hearty meat-based stew that warmed her all over and could have fit the description of food that would “stick to your ribs.” The young man he had met on her first day at the Dragonfort gave her another broad smile and came over with a cup of something that steamed merrily.
“This should help you to wake up a bit more,” he told her. “Drink it down, and I’ll refill it when I see you need more.”
She took the cup and sniffed at its contents. Aya had never seen or smelled anything like it before. It was a dark brown color, and had a kind of minty aroma, but was otherwise unfamiliar to her.
“What is this,” she asked the young man, who had not yet wandered off.
“It’s tea,” he said. “Have you never had tea before?”
“No, I haven’t. We usually drank ale or cow’s milk with our meals,” Aya replied. “We did not have the money for such things as tea.”
“Well, it’s a staple item here, and you can find some at almost any hour of the day or night, should you desire it.”
“Why would I desire it?”
“It will help to wake you and then keep you awake. You will find that is sometimes necessary, in your new life.”
“New life?”
“As a Dragonguard, of course!” the young man laughed. “My name, by the way, is Jarrod,”
“A pleasure to meet you, Jarrod,” she responded. “My name is Aya.”
“Dran told us,” Jarrod said. “I’m glad you’ve joined us.”
“Are you a Dragonguard?”
“Of course I am. Everyone here is a Dragonguard.”
“Where’s your dragon, then?”
“Oh, Ebony is out flying around, having fun,” Jarrod said. “He doesn’t like being holed up in the Dragonfort all the time.”
“Your dragon can do that? Fly without you?”
“Of course he can. Yours will be able to do the same thing, in time. It has to do with the strength of your bond. The stronger it is, the stronger your dragon will be. So, eat up and then get more rest. The Dreaming takes a lot out of you,” and with that, Jarrod disappeared into the back of the kitchen cavern.
Aya went back for seconds, and then thirds, before her appetite was sated. Jarrod ended up bringing a small pot of the tea to her since she drank it down almost faster than he could come back to refill it. She knew it would be something she would have as often as she could manage.
12
Two weeks later, and Aya still had not come up with a name for her dragon. It was not that she had not thought about it, it was just that nothing seemed appropriate as a name for the great beast.
Dran teased her about it relentlessly, offering several inappropriate suggestions when Aya once again admitted her ignorance. He would laugh when some of them got a rise out of her. That often led to a half-hearted chase through the buildings and cavern facilities.
Despite their vast difference in age, he reminded her of how she had always thought a brother and sister relationship should be, and she loved him for it.
For now, Aya had three substantial meals a day, but none of the extra protein calories went to her hips. As she understood it, those extra calories went to keeping her dragon solid. If she went too long, she would still be able to see her dragon but would be unable actually to touch her, much less fly her.
One day, when she experimented, she discovered that at least two meals a day were required to keep the dragon corporeal. Aya had been very uncomfortable, and unusually ravenous, and so she decided she would never experiment in that away again.
Aya had not yet started riding patrols. It was explained to her that a new dragon and rider pair spent their first few months getting to know one another. Until she at least knew her dragon’s name, she would not be put on patrol. There was, she was assured more than once, no shame in this. With some pairings, it took time.
Aya took the opportunity to decorate the room designated as her quarters. She had been given an amazingly soft, freshly sewn bed, and a down comforter. It was very different from the musty, straw-stuffed pallet she had grown up using in the corner of the main room of the cottage. No longer was she poked by itchy straw as she slept. Instead, she slept happily and comfortably.
It was strange, there was no doubt about it, to have something outside of you that was also a part of you. Initially, Aya was startled and confused by the sensations coming from things that she, herself, did not touch.
It seemed that one of the lessons upon which the most care was taken, was in creating a mental wall to keep one from going mad from these disembodied sensations. On the other hand, Aya loved it when her dragon would fly, riderless, up high, and looked down at the world below her. She learned to close her eyes and open her mind to experiencing those sights from the eyes of her dragonself.
Drannar had explained to her that there were very few individuals who possess the ability to Dream a dragon. Most of those special people who were ‘found’ were from specific bloodlines. It was quite unusual to find one from what appeared to be a completely unconnected source.
Aya wondered if perhaps there might have been someone in her mother’s family tree that might have given this gift to her. She knew it would help to explain why she had always felt the way she had at the mere sight of a dragon. The dragon that waited inside of her would stir, trying to find a way to rise and fly with her mates.
No one knew how the human/dragon pairings had begun because in this time, a gifted human needed to be physically touched by a dragon for the Dreaming to begin. The Dragonguard kept the entire process a close secret, as they did not want such information to get out to the wrong sort of people. Aya imagined wholesale breeding of potentially gifted children to build airborne armies and then shuddered at that thought.
The Dragonguard communities kept mostly to themselves and found their relationships and mates from among their kind. They found it to be the best way to both have a better opportunity for increasing their numbers and for keeping their origins a secret.
Aya had discovered that the more active she and her dragon were, the hungrier she would be, and the more food she would consume. It was worth noting that none of the Dragonguard was so much as overweight. She was, in truth, eating for two.
Because of their greatly increased mobility, the Dragonguard had taken it upon themselves to be the guardians of their world. They quickly squashed disputes between countries that escalated into anything resembling violence. They did not rule, but they maintained a peaceful order to the world.
There were several dozen Dragonguard enclaves throughout the world. Most were in places that were difficult, if not impossible, to reach by those who used more traditional methods of travel.
On occasion, an outsider might try to infiltrate an enclave, but they were usually quickly discovered and removed. If gentle dissuasion was not successful, individuals who were more tenacious were unofficially adopted and moved to an enclave far from their point of origin. While they might never experience a Dreaming, they were given a place in th
e community and put to work.
There was one such individual in this enclave, who was called Sundance. A mere boy when he had painstakingly climbed his way into the heights that contained the enclave, black-haired Lauro did not take “no” for an answer when he had made his petition to be a Dragonguard. A decision had been made to transport the child half a world away from his birth village, and he would now live out the remainder of his life forever separated from his family and childhood friends.
Lauro’s family members had not been left ignorant of the child’s fate but had been told that he would become a part of the greater Dragonguard community. The Dragonguard were not heartless, after all.
Six years had passed since that time, and Lauro was content simply to live among the dragons and their people. He was a year older than Aya, and while not notably handsome, he was not unattractive, either. He earned his keep by maintaining the quarters of several of the Dragonguard, making sure they remained neat and tidy.
Although he already had a significant number of apartments assigned to his care, Lauro had volunteered to add Aya’s apartment to his roster. She suspected the young man was interested in her as more than a friend, but she kept him at an emotional distance. Even though her circumstances had changed for the better, she still had no interest in that kind of a relationship with anyone.
Aya found it pleasant, after a long day, to come home and find her quarters clean, dusted, and smelling faintly of the fresh flowers that Lauro would leave in the vase on her dresser. At first, it seemed strange to her that someone else would be taking care of her basic needs, but she came to enjoy having had that responsibility lifted from her shoulders. Aya would have been happy never to have to clean again, but that would have been silly and selfish, which she was not.
The tome from the abandoned village had a place of honor as the only resident of a shelf carved out of the stone wall of her chambers. Aya would take it down late at night, and look at it by the light of the single tallow candle that cut through the chamber’s nighttime darkness. She knew that some of the people of Sundance knew how to read, but had not yet summoned the courage to find out who and ask them to teach her that mystic art.
The curious walking stick, which was unneeded at this point, rested in a well-lit corner of her quarters. At her request, Lauro kept it dusted, and had polished it to a brilliant shine.
As did all the Dragonguard, Aya would take her turn in the kitchens, and added some of her favorite recipes to those that were already known. Kitchen duties ranged everywhere from meal preparation to cooking to the washing of soiled utensils and dishes.
Yes. Real dishes. No worn, cracked wooden trencher platters and bowls that were barely holding on. The dishes’ construction ranged from wood to stone and even ceramic. Some of the ceramic dishes seemed too fine to Aya to be used as everyday items, but she soon learned that there were even finer ceramic dishes that had been tucked away for special functions. These were crafted of such fine china that one could see the brightness glow from behind when they were held up to a light source. They were glorious, as far as Aya was concerned.
Every day brought something new for Aya, and she reveled in the discoveries she made. Her former life had been predictable and boring, and now that was no longer the case. She felt free, emotionally and physically, and it was almost more than she could bear, but she loved it, just the same.
13
“Aya, where did you get that?” Dran asked her one day during breakfast, pointing at the walking stick, which she had brought out for an anticipated afternoon walk in the heavily treed mountains that lay a league or so to the north. His question brought her up short, as Dran normally called her “youngster,” or “girl,” rather than by her given name. For the man to use her given name was unusual.
“This? I found it in the basement of the town hall in that abandoned village where I stayed after I ran away from home, Dran,” she replied, after hastily swallowing her mouthful of the spicy cheese and tomato omelet she had chosen for breakfast. She started to pass it over to him. “It looks odd, doesn’t it? Do you know what it’s made of because I have no clue.”
The Dragonguard leaned in close for a look but declined to touch the walking stick. From his expression, she could tell that he knew what it was, so why he had asked her about it was confusing. Why ask about something about which you already knew, but she played along.
“You found this? Truly? It was not given to you?”
“Whoever owned it either left it behind or was one of the skeletons down in that basement, Dran. It was clear he or she did not need it anymore.”
The Dragonguard, a perplexed expression on his face, peered at the staff, still not touching it.
“You can hold it if you like, Dran. It’s not as though it would bite you!” Aya laughed.
The Dragonguard made a face and stepped back, raising both hands in front of his face as though warding off an attack.
“Not bite me? You have no idea. Aya, girl, that thing is dangerous!”
“Dangerous? It’s just a pretty walking stick!”
“No, girl, it’s far more than that. It is made from vaasahorn,” he replied. “What you have is something quite rare.”
“What is a vasha?” she asked, mispronouncing the unfamiliar name.
“A vaasa is a tall, slender creature that bears a single horn at the top of its head, between its ears. The horn grows for three or more years before it is finally shed, and another begins to grow in its place.”
“So, like a deer grows antlers, then, not like a billy goat’s horn,” she responded. When she was younger, she would often be sent to gather shed deer antlers for her father’s occasional knife repair tasks.
“Not really, no,” he said. “That horn has strange properties. It cannot be stolen successfully. Ever. Thieves tend to come to very bad ends when they attempt it.”
Aya stared at the stick in her hand, disbelief showing on her face. She shivered as a thrill of fear shot through her.
“It is clear that you did not steal it, or you would not have survived its touch,” Dran told her. Aya suddenly remembered the skeletons she had found in the basement, and wondered what, exactly, had happened to cause their deaths. A wave of nausea rippled through her, and she gagged.
“You are fine, Aya. If there had been anything amiss, I doubt you would have made it more than five steps before you joined the other residents of that basement,” he said reassuringly. “Keep an eye on that thing, and whatever you do, if you need someone to touch it, give them permission, first.”
“Dran, you need to tell me—“ she interjected.
“No, Aya. That thing scares me to my bones. I don’t want to be anywhere near it,” he said. “Not for now, anyway. Have a good day and spend some time thinking of a name for that dragon of yours. You can’t just call her ‘Dragon’ forever, you know.”
With that, the Dragonguard rose and went off to start his daily patrol, leaving Aya staring at the thing she had until just now considered to be no more than a very ornate walking staff.
14
Going outside one morning after breaking her fast, she found her dragon (her dragon!) waiting for her. Although she knew the creature was also her, it had its own sense of awareness and desires.
“Was there something you wanted?” she asked the creature, who had something on her mind. “What is it?”
Not even taking a moment to glance at her, the dragon hunched down, and Aya instantly understood that she was to climb onto her dragon’s shoulders. Obliging the wordless request, she then suddenly found herself in the air, the dragon’s enormous wings beating at the air lazily. It was then that Aya realized the dragons did not have to beat their wings to stay aloft. It was something else entirely that kept them in the air.
“Where are we going?”
The dragon, of course, said nothing, but simply began flying with a purpose. Helpless against her dragon’s determination, Aya watched as the landscape changed below them.
&nbs
p; It was not long before the landscape began to look slightly more familiar, and Aya realized their destination, beginning to worry.
“No! Dragon! Not that!”
The dragon continued to ignore her entreaties and kept flying. It was even more evident that even though the creature was a part of her, the dragon had a mind of her own.
Knowing there was nothing she could do, Aya sat back and watched the ground pass below the dragon’s massive wings as she flew. As they flew over the abandoned village that had Aya’s home for almost half a year, she saw that there was smoke coming from the chimney of the cottage she had lived in. For some reason, it made her feel good to know that someone else was living there now. There was even a small garden next to the front door.
This appeared to be someone who was not in hiding, unlike Aya, who had been forced to conceal her presence in the village to stay safe. She silently wished whoever it was well, as the stone walls disappeared from her field of view.
The flight gave Aya a much better idea of how far she had traveled, between her new home and her old one. The part she had walked was daunting, and knowing that what had taken her weeks to traverse was crossed in a matter of mere hours.
Perhaps four hours later, Aya saw the even more familiar landmarks of her old home and saw that her father and probably her brother had rebuilt the cottage. The dragon landed a short distance from the cottage and then abruptly disappeared, as though she had never existed. Still, Aya could feel that she was with her, even though she could not see her.
The dog lay near the front door, opening her eyes, and thumping her tail weakly against the ground. The heavily graying animal, now much skinnier than Aya remembered, did not make a sound.
Feigning a bravery she did not feel, she approached the new stone cottage, and the wooden door opened, to reveal her father. The expression on his face changed from dull curiosity to rage, as he realized who stood there.