Chapter 1

A life-changing ordeal

“One thing is certain Sarah,” Drake said as he wrapped the screaming baby in a soft, blue blanket, “he’s got a powerful set of lungs on him.”

            He handed the newborn infant to the assistant standing next to him and turned to the mother lying limp and gasping desperately for air, the last bit of her strength gone.

            “My baby…” she mumbled.

            “Don’t worry he’s fine, in fact, he’s pretty energetic.” Drake reassured her.

            Sarah summoned as much strength as she could to sit upright.

            “I want to hold him.” She said weakly.

            “You may hold him after you get some rest.  I don’t think you have the energy.” The baby squalled even louder.

            “But, he’s calling for me!” She tried to stand up, but a shearing pain ripped across her abdomen, the pain so unbearable, she could no longer bring herself to even try to move.

            Drake positioned a soft pillow against the headboard.  Slowly and carefully, he helped her sit up against the feather pillow. After he was certain she was comfortable enough, he gently took the newborn from his assistant.

            “Be careful,” he said.

            “Don’t lesson me on how to hold my own child.”

            He gently placed the baby into the mother’s awaiting arms.  She gazed at the newborn’s pudgy face with loving eyes.  His eyes still swollen closed and his face calm, no longer crying.  The baby’s eyes slowly opened, and he smiled as he gazed at his mother for the first time.

            “He’s beautiful.” Sarah whispered.

            “Yes, he is a handsome lad, such a shame his father couldn’t care enough to witness his birth.”

            “Drake, please.  Don’t speak of that now.” She said, casting him a fierce glance.

            “Forgive me, my lady.  I don’t wish to cause you any more pain.”

            “It’s quite all right.”  She turned her gaze back to her beloved child.  She wished she could sit there, holding him forever without a single care in the world.

            “Ma’am,” Drake cleared his throat.

            Sarah sighed and wistfully handed the baby back to him, wishing she could hold him just a little longer.

            “You will have plenty of time to hold him when you get home,” Drake reassured her, gently laying the infant in a crib on the other side of the room, “but for now you need your rest more than anything.”

            Sarah did not argue or try to resist, but lay down in the bed, too exhausted and tired. 

            Drake and the assistant began to walk out of the room but stopped at the door.

            “If you need anything, anything at all, let me know.” He said.

            “Thank you, Drake.”

            As he left the room, Sarah lied back so that her neck rested onto the pillow.  She turned her head and looked at the sleeping child in the crib.

            Desmond.

She closed her eyes and drifted asleep, comfortable knowing that her newborn son was safe.

 

 

            Starlight is quite a large modern-day land, mostly distant from the rest of the normal world.  The city Ravenshire is located far southeast of Starlight and hidden well in the deepest jungles. It has quite a use in building and technology, meaning that there are television and radio that the citizens use in everyday life.  The houses are built as any normal houses and structures would be built, from red bricks and cinderblock and the usual shingles on the roofs.  Military is one of the most important that the town has to offer to protect the city.  Anyone is able to sign up to serve and protect the people of Ravenshire under oath.  The men or women that take this oath to serve in the military are immediately sent to training camps within Ravenshire Military Corporation (RMC) where they will be trained in the art of hand-to-hand combat and weaponry.  Additionally, they will be put on a strict diet of the appropriate amount of protein, iron, and vitamin C.  They will be sent to bed at a reasonable hour and awaken in the morning at a reasonable hour to begin daily training and exercises.  But the most astonishing thing about the village of Ravenshire aside from it’s strong military, are the dragons.

            Not everyone in the village, or all of Starlight for that matter, is meant to be the riders of dragons.  The privilege of becoming a rider is supposedly only given to the most gifted of people.  Weather their talents are fighting, inventing, or those of great intelligence.  But, as expected, there is a policy; all riders must be trained in the art of combat just as in the military.  If the riders are not training to fight, then they are taking care of their dragons and learning the magnificent creatures’ nature. 

            Every rider also has a special power based on the four elements, and each element is based on the riders’ personal character.

           

Earth: the rider is strong in body and soul and will do everything in their power to protect everything and everyone they cherish most, whether it be a person or thing

           

Fire: the rider has a strong will and a bit reckless of his/her own safety or the safety of others, but reckless enough to sacrifice their own lives for ones they care so dearly for.

           

Water/ice: the rider has an impenetrable mind and spirit, but may lack caring of what is most important.

           

Wind: the rider is brave enough to conquer his/her deepest, darkest fears.

 

Every rider will practice mastering and learning to control the awesome powers of each element.  Although all dragons breathe fire, they too will learn to use and control the power of their element.

Whether or not someone is meant to be a rider will be determined at Ravenshire Hatching Grounds.  There, a group of students will line up side by side in front of a clutch of dragon eggs.  One by one, each egg will begin to hatch and search among the students for their would-be riders.  When a dragon hatchling has chosen its rider, immediately they bond together telepathically as the hatchling’s eyes meet their rider-to-be.  They may not realize it yet, but they have just been given one of the most crucial responsibilities the World has to offer.

Over the years, Desmond has learned everything he could remember about becoming a rider in his own normal everyday-life school, but from the first steps he took learning to walk to his eighteenth year he has been quite the troublemaker.  From getting into fights at school, or not being able to control his temper, or even stealing from a kart on the street. 

This is where the true story begins.

                        *                      *                      *

Desmond was walking home through the village streets, rubbing a bruise on his left cheek from a previous fight at school. As said earlier, Desmond has an extremely short temper, and putting up with so-called tough guys wasn’t exactly his favorite hobby. When he spotted two children digging through a wastebasket near a stand of fruit.  He noticed that the kids were skeletally thin and their clothing were torn and ragged.

Desmond could not help but feel sorry.

“You must be starving,” he grabbed an apple from the fruit stand and handed it to one of the children.  They both thanked him happily and ran off through the crowd of people.

“You’d better be able to pay for that, boy.” Said a raspy voice from behind the stand. 

Desmond turned to the man behind the fruit stand.

“Oh, sorry.  I don’t have any money.” He said.

“No money?” the man eyed him angrily, “you thief!”

“I was just trying to feed the homeless kids.”

The man unsheathed a knife from his belt.

“Do you know there is a price to pay for stealing?”

“Oh God, not again.” Desmond had been in the same situation many times before. 

Acting quickly, he kicked and broke one of the supports from underneath the stand, causing it to fall in front of the man and scattering apples and oranges across the pavement.  Local authorities must have seen all the commotion and moved in to investigate.  As soon as Desmond saw the guards coming, he took off running through the crowd of pedestrians.  Behind him, the man began yelling franticly to the guards.

“Help! He’s a thief! Catch him! Kill him! Whatever you do, don’t let him escape!”

While one guard stayed behind to aid the man, six others ran after Desmond.  Desmond ran as fast as he could, zigzagging through the crowd of people and trying not to knock people over.  He passed the two homeless children he gave the apple to which got him into this mess in the first place.  The children waved at him happily still holding the apple, but Desmond had no time to wave back, he continued running.  He glanced behind him and gasped when he saw the guards were not far behind him and slowly catching up.

I’m never going to get away if I stay in this crowd

Desmond turned sharply to the right, hoping to lose his pursuers in the clutter of people.  He began making quick turns until he came to an intersection in the street.  He stopped for a moment first studying the crowd of people beginning to pour from the left side of the intersection, then behind him where the authorities were still catching up.  Taking no chances he darted across the intersection and made it to the other side of the street just in time to see the pursuers get caught up in the swarm of on-coming pedestrians.  Two of the guards made it through the jungle of people and continued their chase. 

Desmond turned and, before he could run anymore, a hand reached out from his left and snatched up a handful of his shirt.

“Let me go!” He tried to struggle out of the grasp.  He looked up at whoever grabbed him and was thankful to see who it was.

“Drake!” Desmond could not find words to describe how glad he was to see him.

When the guards caught up, Drake sent them away saying, “I’ll take it from here gentlemen.  Go about patrolling the streets.”

“But, he stole fruit, he’s a thief.” One of the guards protested.

“And I’ll se to it he is properly punished.  Carry on.”

 

When the guards had gone, Drake slapped the back of Desmond’s head.

“What were you thinking? Are you trying to get yourself in even more trouble than before?” He scolded.

“I was just trying to help.  See, these two kids�"” Drake cut him off with a wave of his hand.

“Again you find ways that land you in deep trouble and again I have to step in and pull your sorry carcass out of the fire.  This is unacceptable, Desmond.  Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.” Muttered Desmond

“Good, now go on home.  Your mother called me, she’s worried sick.”

Without another word, Desmond ran home.  Taking a different route to avoid the fruit stand he kicked over.

 

Sarah had been home making lunch for Desmond.  She would have been in a better mood had she not received a phone call from the school telling her that Desmond had been suspended for five days on account of fighting with another student.  She knew Desmond would never back away from any fight, but she had to find a way to get through to her son.

The front door to the large mansion swung open and Desmond stumbled inside breathing heavily.  Sarah turned away from the sandwiches she had prepared and confronted him.

“How was your day?” She asked.

Desmond grunted, but gave no answer.

“The school called.”

“Wow, what a surprise.” Desmond said sarcastically.

“Don’t give me that,” Scolded his mother, “This is the sixth time this month that you’ve been suspended for pulling one of your stupid stunts.  Is something bothering you?  What has gotten into you?”

“Nothing,” this was not Desmond’s day, “the other kid started it.  He wanted to keep spreading rumors about ‘how weak I am’ or ‘how stupid I am’.”

“You need to learn to ignore what people say about you and start concentrating on what and who you are and what you can do to avoid certain situations like that.” Sarah replied in an annoyed tone.

“Mom, you know how hard that is.  Rumors like that can signal everyone in the school to try and fight me to see just how weak I am, unfortunately, they may be in for a surprise.” Desmond sat on the couch and switched on the television.

Sarah’s tone softened, “You need to learn to control that short temper of yours.  Try breathing exercises or something, maybe some martial arts exercises would calm you down.”

“I already earned three medals at the Ravenshire School of Self-Defense, I know a few things about mixed martial arts.” Desmond reminded her.

Sarah sighed, “That’s not what I meant.  The fighting style you learned wasn’t just for fighting, it was also supposed to teach you how to contain your anger and clear your mind of all obstacles.”

“I know mom, I’m sorry for what I did.” He apologized.

“I know you are, but I can’t let this little fight of yours go unpunished,” she took the T.V. remote from Desmond and turned it off, “no television or video games the whole time you are suspended.”

“Mom!” whined Desmond.

Sarah held up a hand, “I don’t want to hear it.  If you want any entertainment, then why don’t you go and find out what Craig is up to?”

Craig was Desmond’s best friend.  They’ve known each other since they were five.  Desmond knew that if he stayed any longer, then his mother would find more punishments for him to endure.

Desmond arrived at Craig’s house three blocks away from his own.  Craig was sitting on the front steps of his porch when he saw Desmond walking through the yard toward him.

“How much did your mom yell at you?” he called, brushing his blond hair from his eyes.

“Oh, not much,” Desmond answered back to him.  He sat on the steps next to him.

“Dude, if I had a penny for every time you did something wrong, I’d be a millionaire by the end of a single week.” Craig commented.

“Hey, that little b*****d had it coming.  If he hadn’t started those rumors, then I wouldn’t have had to take such…drastic measures,” replied Desmond, “so, what do you want to do?”

“Well…” Craig thought for a moment, “there’s going to be another dragon hatching at the Hatching Grounds.  We could go and see who is going to be Ravenshires’ next riders.”

“Sounds like a good idea since there’s nothing else to do.  Lets go.”

The two friends stood and began walking down the street.  Raven Hatching Grounds is located seven blocks from Craig’s house.  They walked for nearly ten minutes until the large arena came into view.  People crowded around the doors to get through the metal double doors.  Twenty minutes passed before Desmond and Craig dodged through the crowd and made their way to the crowded rows of seats.  The building was huge, every voice from the spectators echoed off the walls and ceiling.  In the middle was a wide, open area where the future riders-to-be stood impatiently waiting for the ritual to begin.  Most of the students looked as young as Desmond, while others looked to be as old as nineteen.  Craig and Desmond found two seats next to each other in the second row.

Craig leaned toward Desmond.

“How come you never wanted to sign up for something like this?” He spoke over the rumbling voices of the audience.

“Because I’m sure the chances of becoming a rider are very slim for me,” Desmond assured him,  “trust me, it’ll never happen.”

Craig opened his mouth to say something else, but decided not to.

It seemed a long time before the building seemed to quiet down.  A man wearing a purple teachers’ robe stood in front of the young students.  He spoke with a booming voice that reached out to every inch of the arena. 

“Welcome beloved people of the village of Ravenshire!  We are gathered here today to congratulate our new dragon riders who have trained so hard to be where they are standing today.  Now without further ado, bring in the dragon eggs!”

A group of five people dressed in the same purple robe entered through a side door, each carrying one golden dragon egg.  Very gently, they set the eggs in a clutch about ten feet in front of the students.

“Let the hatching begin!” Shouted the speaker.

For a moment, nothing happened. The students began to shuffle nervously.  Then, one of the golden eggs began to shake.  First one, then another and another until they were all quivering uncontrollably. 

Then, Desmond and Craig watched in amazement as one of the eggs began to crack open down the middle.  Soon, the muzzle of a dragonet began working through the golden shell, then a limb, then one of its wings.  Another few seconds of struggling and the tiny dragon hatchling had finally worked its way from the imprisonment of its shell.  Its scales were a lovely shade of golden brown.  It looked around, confused with its surroundings before testing its legs, then slowly began to make its way toward the line of students.  The young dragonet carefully studied each of the soldiers.  When it began studying the last student, a young boy around the age of fourteen, their eyes immediately locked.  The audience began to applaud.

“We have our first rider!” The speaker boomed.

Then another dragon, scales a bright crimson red, hatched and studied each of the students, just as the first one had.  It soon locked gazes with a tall, dark haired student around eighteen years old.

Again, the speaker yelled, “We have our second rider!”

The same happened over and over again until only two students were left standing alone and only one golden egg left that had not yet hatched.  Ten full minutes passed before the final egg began to show signs of life.  This last dragon struggled a little harder emerging from the imprisonment of its egg.  It took another seven minutes until the determined creature finally wiggled its way out of the shell and tried to stand for the first time on its trembling legs.

“This is it!” The speaker announced to the audience, “The final rider will be chosen among the last of these students.  One will be lucky enough to become a rider, and as for the other, well…” he looked at the two remaining students, “better luck next time.”

“Here we go,” Desmond said to Craig.

The dragonet slowly adapted to the trembling of its legs and studied the only two students left.  Desmond was mesmerized by the dragon hatchling’s color.  A bright, sparkling color of jade green scales that reflected from the overhead lights like small gemstones.  The claws were a clean ivory, not a single speck of dirt or scratch, and nicely curved and dangerously sharp.  The wings were the same color as the rest of its body, only made up of thin, velvet-like membrane.  If Desmond were to stand next to it, then the dragon’s head would reach his knees, a little taller than the average height of a dragon hatchling.  A normal dragon hatchlings’ height would reach two-thirds up his shin, six inches under his knee.  The tail was as long as the creature’s body.

The hatchling never locked eyes with any of the students.  In fact, it didn’t at all seem interested in either of them.  Instead, it began to scan the spectators, as if it had been expecting its rider to walk out from the crowd.  A low mumble began to spread throughout the surprised onlookers.  Even Desmond and Craig began to whisper back and forth to each other.

It was when the dragon began to walk on its still trembling legs toward the audience that Desmond began to sense a feeling of worry from the crowd around him. 

“What’s it doing?” Craig said.

Desmond didn’t answer.  He was watching with what seemed like everlasting interest as the curious creature climbed up the steps between the rows of seats, sniffing and investigating.  No one in the audience made a single move to stop it, mainly because it is a huge mistake to whoever tries to prevent a dragon hatchling from finding its future rider, no matter who that rider is.

Desmond, Craig, and all the spectators would soon find out who the mystery rider was as the determined dragon navigated through the maze of seats.  It was not long before Desmond realized that it was heading toward where they were sitting.  He waited patiently until the hatchling stood before him.  Immediately, his eyes locked with the dragon’s.

  The whole audience was flabbergasted.  No one seemed to breathe, even Craig could not find his own voice.  Desmond never noticed everyone staring at him, he himself was speechless.  There were no other sounds save for the pounding in his chest that continued at an irregular rhythm, the rest of the world was oblivious and seemed to revolve around him.

There was a voice in his head, followed by a single, gentle touch in his mind.  He knew that his and the dragon’s mind joined together for the first time. 

The voice was clear and soft and clearly female.

We are one, are we not?

Desmond still could not find his voice to answer.

 

 

“This is big,” Desmond shook his head in disbelief.

He and Craig had been in Desmond’s back yard, the young dragon lay curled in a ball asleep.  Desmond had been pacing back and forth with his arms crossed, Craig sitting in one of the two lawn chairs Desmond’s mother had bought a few months back, watching the dragon sleep.

“And you said it wouldn’t happen.” Craig commented.

“Really, Craig?  That’s all you’ve got to say?”  He sighed heavily.  Sitting in the other lawn chair next to Craig.  “What am I going to do?”

“Dude, this is supposed to be a gift,” reassured Craig, “there were two students left, but it didn’t even pay any attention to them.  Instead, he searched through the audience and found you.”

“She,” Desmond corrected, “she’s a female.”

“She is?”

“It was in her voice, when she first spoke to me.”

Craig seemed confused, “She spoke? I didn’t hear her.”

“Telepathically, you nimrod.” Desmond snapped, annoyed, “Everyone knows that dragons only communicate telepathically.”

Craig scowled, “Hey, I’m only trying to help.”

“Well, you’re sucking at it.” he sighed. “What am I going to tell my mom?”

“If we don’t tell her now, she’ll definitely find out sooner or later.”

“Well no sh*t, genius. What was your first clue?”

“Why are you so worried about her reaction? If anything, she should be proud.  Shocked, maybe, but definitely proud that her own son is a rider.” Craig replied.

Desmond knew he was right.  Being a rider is one of the most major achievements in all of Starlight.  He knew the news would be sudden, but he had no choice.  He had to tell his mother.

“All right,” he stood up, “lets go.”

As they stood and walked toward the house, the dragon awoke and as if on cue, fell in step at Desmond’s side.

You are nervous, she observed, are you all right?

This is all so sudden, Desmond told her, and this should have been a normal day.  Who would’ve known that my whole life would change in a single hour?

Are you angry with me? She asked.

No, no.  Desmond reassured. I have a daily schedule and becoming a dragon rider wasn’t exactly listed on things to do.

They walked into the house and Desmond called for his mother.  The dragon hid nervously behind his legs.

Wow, and you call me nervous.  Desmond scoffed.

Sarah hurried into the room with an apron tied around her waist and a dishrag over her left shoulder.  She seemed not to notice the dragon peek from behind Desmond’s legs.

“Desmond, what ever it is you want, can we make it quick? I’m washing the dishes and I need to get dinner ready before six. ” She said in a hurried tone.

Desmond sighed and stepped forward.

“Mom,” he said, “I know this is kind of sudden, but-”

“Desmond’s a rider!” Craig interrupted.

“Craig!” Desmond scowled.

“Oh, sorry.  Go ahead.”

“Well you told most of it!”

Desmond’s mother said firmly, “That’s enough.  Are you sure of this?”

“Am I sure?”  She says.  Desmond thought, rolling his eyes.

He looked down at the dragon.

Go on, he said, don’t be scared

Slowly she stepped from behind him.  As she revealed herself, Sarah covered her mouth with her hand in disbelief.

“She’s a little shy.” Desmond told her.

I’m not afraid of anything.  She held her head high.

Of course you’re not, hiding behind me was one of the bravest acts I’ve ever seen.  Desmond teased.

Sarah was still in a state of shock.  She could not take her eyes off the creature. 

Finally, she came to her senses and began to speak.

“I…I don’t believe it,” she stammered.

“I told you she would be surprised.” Desmond told Craig.

Suddenly, there was a loud knock at the door.  Sarah went to look out the window only to see that Drake had come to visit.  She opened the door and let him in.

“Am I interrupting anything?” He asked when he noticed that everyone was standing in the same room, “What’s going on?”

“Desmond’s a rider.” Said Craig.

“Craig, I swear to God…” Desmond snapped.

“Is this true?” Drake asked, “Desmond, is this really true?  Are you really a rider?”

Am I invisible? The dragon said to him.

Drake looked down and saw the hatchling staring at him.  He knelt down and studied her.

“She’s beautiful, look at her scales.  That color, talons, nicely curved, teeth and fangs white and sharp as knives.  She will be a dangerous predator when she grows. ”

I like him.  The dragon said.

            Sure you do, who doesn’t enjoy flattery? Desmond told her.

            “How long will it be before she gets bigger?” asked Sarah.

            “It would take almost a week before she will grow as tall as Desmond.  And around two or three months before she is too big to fit in this house.”  Drake said.

            “How long until she’s fully grown?” Desmond asked him.

            “It’s hard to tell when dragons reach their full growth, but I wouldn’t worry about that now.  Have you even given her a name yet?”

            “No, I’ve been too busy freaking out about becoming a rider. So the thought never crossed my mind.  Do you know any?”

            “Well,” Drake thought for a moment, “I know these names from other dragons in the past.  There’s Dezzere, Gertrude, Fiona, and F’lessa.”

            Desmond pondered over the names for a moment, but he wasn’t sure he liked any of the ones Drake had listed.  Of course a name like Gertrude or F’lessa wouldn’t fit.  But he knew that it was the dragon’s decision to make, not his. 

            What do you think?  Which one do you like?  Desmond asked her.

            None, I don’t like them.  They don’t match me.  She answered quickly.

            Desmond sighed impatiently, “Are there any other?  She just made one hell of a quick decision.”

“Well, there are thousands of names for female dragons alone, and only one will fit her.” Said Drake.

            Now it was Desmond’s turn to think.  He thought about all the dragon names he has heard throughout the years and thought whether or not the dragon would care for them.  Then, without realizing it, he thought of the stories his mother used to tell him when he was a small boy.  He scanned through them until one story stood out from the rest.  He pondered over the name of the dragon in the story and wondered if the name would fit his dragon.

            “I think…I know what to call her.” Desmond told everyone.

            He turned to the dragon and asked her.

 Jasmin?

            She looked at him for a moment and seemed to be in a deep state of concentration.  The room was silent five full minutes while the dragon decided whether or not Jasmin was her name. 

            Finally, she held her head high in a proud pose. 

            I am Jasmin.  She said to Desmond.

            “Her name is Jasmin.” Desmond announced.

            “Wonderful name,” said Sarah.

            “I agree, it fits.” Said Drake.

            “This may be the worst time to bring this up, but won’t the military come looking for you?  The law says that all riders must be trained for combat.” Craig said.

            “You’re right, Craig.” Said Drake.  “Its only a matter of time before they come looking for him,”

            As if on cue, another knock at the door interrupted him.  Sarah looked out the window and glanced back at Drake.

            “Its them,” she told him.

            Perfect timing.  Desmond thought, rolling his eyes.

            “Listen,” Drake said to Desmond, “the military needs you.  They need every rider in Raven to keep the army strong.”

            “Why?” Desmond shook his head.

            “You have to, Desmond.” Sarah said.

            “Can you think of a better reason than, ‘I have to’?”

            “Desmond,” his mother said gently, lifting his chin and staring straight into his eyes. “Sweetie, this is a big deal.  If you don’t go, bad things might happen.  If you refuse, they’ll only take you by force, and if you try to run, you’ll become a fugitive.”

            “But I’m not fit for the military!” Desmond argued.

            “Maybe not, but I do know one thing: you are destined to do great things.”

            “I find that a little hard to believe,” Craig muttered, jokingly.

            “Quiet, you.”  Desmond snapped.  Then, turning back to his mother he asked, “Will you be all right?”

            “I’ll be fine,” she kissed him on the forehead, “Just you be careful.”

            She walked to the door and, with a bit of hesitation, slowly opened it.  Two tall and muscular men stood in the doorway, both had their hands behind their backs.

            “Is your name Desmond?” one of the men asked.

            “Maybe,” Desmond said.

            “On account of the policy, you are hereby assigned to Ravenshire Military Corporation.  Do you have any statements or objections?”

            “Can I grab a toothbrush?” said Desmond, stifling a chuckle from his best friend.

            “No objections? Good, lets be on our way.”

            Outside the front yard on the road, a car awaited them.  The two men escorted Desmond and Jasmin to it and opened the door to the back seat.  Before Desmond entered the car, he looked back at the house.  His mother, Drake, and Craig all stood just outside the doorway watching him go.  He waved to them and climbed into the back seat of the car, Jasmin jumped in after him and one of the men closed the door.  As the car drove away, Desmond looked out the back window.  His mother was crying, and Drake and Craig had looks that could easily be described as depressed on their faces, a sight that made his chest already ach with longing.  In a single day, his life changed.  And in the back of his mind, he knew it would never be the same again. 

            Jasmin lied her head down in his lap.

            All will be well soon, don’t be sad.  She told him.

 

            Within the time it took to drive to the academy, Desmond and Jasmin had both fallen asleep.  It was only when one of the men opened the door and told him they had arrived had they awoken.  After Desmond had gathered his thoughts--and groaned at a stiff neck--he stepped out of the car and gazed at the large building before him, the doors large enough for a dragon of any size to fit.  The academy to him seemed like a palace in the middle ages, but with a few modern tweaks.

            The two men escorted him to the large doors, Jasmin close behind.  One man entered a code into a security panel located on the outside wall to the left of the large steel door entrance.  His fingers glided across the panel with such agility that Desmond didn’t have enough time to process in his mind what he had typed, partially because he was still a bit groggy from his nap. After the man had finished typing, an electronic pseudo-voice audibly responded.

            “East entrance security authorization passcode accepted. Please stand by.”  There was a low rumble, followed by the mechanical humming of gears as the doors slid open.

            Inside revealed a dimly lit hallway twice as large as the doors.  It seemed lifeless and empty, no other person was in sight.  One of the men entered through the doorway and Desmond and Jasmin both followed, the other man bringing up the rear keeping close guard. 

            The sound waves of each footstep echoed off the walls and continued ahead of them down the large and endless pathway.

            “You will meet with the Head of the Cooperation just down the next hallway to the left.  He will assign your elemental classes and your self-defense classes, including where you and the dragon will sleep.”  Replied the leading soldier.

            As much as Desmond already knew about self-defense, he kept quiet and refused to argue.  He knew quite a bit, but perhaps not what was required for more realistic situations. 

            Before long, they arrived at an intersection in the hall where they took a left down the next hallway.  Unlike the first, this path was a bit smaller.  But still big enough for a large dragon to travel through with ease.  Posters and large portraits of famous teachers and previous Heads decorated the walls.  Some portraits were colorless and dated back to the seventeenth century, or when photography was first invented. 

            Suddenly, the leading soldier stopped in front of a normal-sized door, Desmond almost lost his balance trying to avoid bumping into him. 

            “We’re here,” he said opening the door and allowing Desmond to enter first.

            Desmond realized that they had entered what looked like the cramped office of a businessman.  Papers and files piled the wooden desk in neat, alphabetized stacks.  Golden, silver, and bronze metals with stands of an assortment of colors filled a trophy case to the left. Taking a closer look, Desmond realized that they awards that have been won fighting battles and different contests.  Sitting in the desk was a man who looked to be in his late fifties, his hair was slick black with a hint of grey.  He sat in a thoughtful pose with his chin resting on interlocked fingers and his elbows resting on the desk.  He examined Desmond with a look of interest.

            “Forgive me if I stare,” he said, “I’ve heard word of a new rider, I knew you may have been young but even then I expected a little more than… than this.

            Desmond could feel his anger stirring in his chest.  He had half a mind to respond with more violent insults, but thought better of it. Instead, he

            “I can already tell you won’t last a single minute in real combat.  The dragon must have been confused when it picked you.”  The man smiled as if he knew he was angering Desmond.

            Jasmin sensed his anger and tried to soothe by him saying, It does not matter what anyone says, Desmond.  I picked you for a reason.

            Despite her words, Desmond could not help but feel a growing dislike for the Head of the Cooperation.

            “Just to let you know,” he continued, “you may have had a good childhood back at your mommy’s house, but as long as you set foot in my academy, you’re going to become a man.  Even if I have to beat it out of you myself.  You got that, soldier?”

            Hiding his anger behind a plastic mask of calmness, Desmond muttered, “Yes, sir,”

            “I can’t hear you, maggot!” the man barked.

            “Yes, sir!”

            “Good man,” his sour tone softened a bit, “it’s getting late, so I’ll assign you your elemental classes tomorrow.  You won’t have your combat classes until a few weeks from now, when your dragon has grown large enough to participate.”

            He looked at the two men standing behind Desmond, “What do you idiots think you’re standing around for?  Show them to the dormitory, move!”

            “Yes, sir!”  They both answered at the same time.

            One opened the door and motioned for Desmond to follow.  When they exited the office, Desmond said to Jasmin, What do you think his problem is?  I can already tell I’m not going to get along with him well.

            I don’t know.  Came her reply. He probably thinks that putting down others might mold even the softest of hearts into cold, ruthless warriors . . . or he just might not be having a good day.

            Ha, Desmond chuckled, though he could not help but feel a little surprised at how sophisticated she sounded.  It was only earlier that day she first hatched, yet her voice sounded as if she has had years of experience, regardless of the slight ignorance of her words. 

            Despite the events that had played out through the day, Desmond could not help but feel a touch of excitement at the thought of learning how to fight all over again.  And elemental classes seemed interesting to him.  As they turned a few corners, he became lost in his thoughts.  He wondered what element he would posses and how he could control it. 

            It would be nice to have wind as an element.  I once heard of a wielder of air that killed a man by taking control of the oxygen in his bloodstream and forced it to expand, killing the man from the inside out.  Or I heard that anyone who possesses the elemental power of water could turn any moisture in a single spot in the air into steam hot enough to melt flesh from bones. 

            He was too lost in his thoughts to realize that the soldier leading him had stopped and he froze in mid-step to avoid bumping into him.

            “This will be your dormitory.”  The soldier said, gesturing to another large door.  “Your bunkmates will show you to your bed.  Upon the bed will be supplies for personal hygiene and uniforms, which you are required to wear every day.”

            Like the door through which they had entered, this one was also opened using a security panel.  The soldier informed Desmond that he was required to know the code by heart if he wanted to sleep in a bed and that this is the only time he would ever hear it from them, so he’d better memorize it or write it down.  As he tapped each key on the illuminated touch pad, he sounded out each digit that made up the security code that opened the door. 

Repeating the twelve-digit code to himself so he would not lose it, he stepped inside the large dormitory. 

The large room was lined with bunk beds that seemed to stretch on forever.  Among the rows of beds, dozens of youths either Desmond’s age or perhaps younger were moving around and always seemed to be doing something.  Some were practicing their combat skills that are new to Desmond and he still had yet to learn, some were sitting on their beds oiling saddles that, he guessed, were for the large dragons that stood over them watching curiously or curled beside them fast asleep.  There was no counting how many pairs of dragons and riders occupied the dormitory.  Some were even practicing how to take apart a gun and putting it back together again, and more than once, someone aimed one of the guns and Desmond almost charged at him, fearing he would shoot someone.  He regained his calmness once he realized that the rifle was not loaded.

One of the riders-a tall tan-skinned youth- strode toward him, a smile that appeared to be welcoming spread across his face. 

“So, you must be the new rider, huh?” he acknowledged in a friendly voice, “The name’s Nick,” he extended a hand toward Desmond, which he shook with a firm grip.

“I’m Desmond,” he gestured to the green hatchling that stood at his heels, “and this is Jasmin.”

Jasmin raised her neck proudly at the mention of her name.

Nick studied the guards behind Desmond questioningly.

“I’ll take it from here, run along back to your posts, kids.” He said in a mocking tone.

“Be careful whose authority you mock, Nick.” One guard warned.

Nick sneered, but said no more as the two guards left the dormitory.

Once they had gone, Nick clapped a hand on Desmond’s shoulder.

“Come on, I’ll show you which bunk is yours.” He said in a cheerful tone and guided him down the maze of beds, people, and sleeping dragons.  Jasmin followed closely at his heels.

Desmond tried to backtrack what route they had taken, but was unsuccessful and he finally gave up and allowed Nick to lead him.  It must have been a few minutes before they stopped at a bed that seemed isolated and unused.  Upon the spread out blankets were about five uniforms that were black in color, but outlined with strips of white along the sleeves of the arms, legs, and a stripe from left to right diagonally tracing the length of the torso.  It had been at that moment, due to his lack of observation, Desmond noticed that Nick and everyone else in the dormitory were wearing the same uniform.

“You don’t have to put it on right now, but I wouldn’t leave it behind tomorrow.” He informed. “In a few minutes, the rest of us are going to the Dining Hall for dinner.  You should join us.”

“Sounds nice,” Desmond unfolded the uniform and held it against him, checking its size.  Surprisingly, he found that it was the perfect size for him.  The fabric was soft to the touch and felt as though it would rip at the slightest tug in the threads.  The material was very light and breathable and took no effort at all to lift or hold it.  It was surprising to him how the academy could determine his size without being even the slightest number off.  The white stripe that cut across the torso, Desmond realized, was not woven into the fabric at all.  Instead, he found that it was a white strap that was completely loose from the rest of the uniform.  He thought for a moment that it might have been a simple gesture, that it would not be needed for any thing.

Nick must have sensed his question. Before Desmond could even so much as utter a sound, he gestured with a jerk of his chin toward the shirt.

“That strap is the most important detail out of the whole of the uniform.  Turn it over and look at the back,” he instructed.

Desmond did as he said and turned the shirt around and examined the back.  What he found surprised him.  Across the backside, attached to the white strap by a few metal buttons, was an ivory colored sheath made for the fearsome purpose of concealing the blade of a sword.  The sheath was ivory white in color, but as he stared a little more closely he noticed that there was a certain design carved into the wooden surface and painted in a shade of grey so lightly and delicately, it would be impossible to notice from a distance.  Desmond stared with continuous fascination at the bewitching design.  The carving consisted of a large dragon, majestic and fierce, bathing the whole of the sheath with a blazing inferno that poured from its open maw.  The flames seemed to move and dance about the surface as if they were alive and a part of the physical realm, but he blinked and severed his full attention, regarding it as some sort of optical illusion.  Upon the fearsome beast’s back, sitting proud and brave was the dragon’s rider, wielding a perfectly crafted sword that seemed eager to taste it’s share of fresh blood from its enemy.

Desmond could have stared at the amazingly three-dimensional picture for hours if Nick hadn’t clapped a hand on his shoulder, breaking his concentration.

“Hey!  You awake?  How long do you plan on staring at that thing?  Come on, I’ll show you the way to the Dining Hall, she can come too,” he pointed to Jasmin.

Are you coming?  Desmond asked her. 

Of course.  She told him.

“All right then, Lets go.”  He said.

Nick began walking, motioning for Desmond and Jasmin to follow.

As the three of them made their way through the bunks, Desmond still had trouble remembering each route they had taken.  Eventually, he fell behind a few feet while Nick continued on without notice.  Desmond lengthened his stride and opened his mouth to call out to him.

Before he could say anything, his left foot suddenly hit something hard and heavy causing him to lose his balance and fall forward.  He landed hard on his hands and knees and he turned and searched behind him for whatever had caused him to trip.

His breath caught in his throat and his heart skipped a beat.  He found himself face-to-face with the muzzle of a fierce bronze dragon.

A low, but intimidating growl rumbled from within the dragon’s chest.

Are you blind? Watch where you’re going!  A deep voice erupted through Desmond’s head.

“S . . .sorry,” he managed to choke out.

Almost instantly, Jasmin darted between them and began growling protectively at the larger dragon.  Compared to her, the bronze could easily break her neck with a single bat if his paw.

“What’s going on?” a voice sounded to Desmond’s left.

Desmond looked up away from the bronze dragon to the source of the voice.  Standing over him was a girl around his age, wearing the same uniform as all of the other riders.  Her skin was smooth and flawless, as if it could have taken thousands of years to design and perfect.  Her hair was a straight, glowing fountain of golden silk.  And her voice could charm any living thing within hearing range, a perfect song note of every word she pronounced would cause an entire war to freeze in their tracks and lose the memory of why they had been fighting in the first place.

Her beauty alone made Desmond’s heart skip a beat and once again, he was speechless.

Then she smiled at him, showing a row of her perfect, white teeth and the goings-on became completely oblivious to his own senses.

“Hi,” she said to him.

Desmond blinked and immediately snapped out of his fantasy for fear of making a complete idiot of himself.

“Uh . . . hi,” he managed to say.

“Are you new here?”

“Um, yeah.  How did you know?”

“You’re not wearing a uniform, that pretty much gave you away.”

“Oh, right,”

The girl brushed a lock of golden hair behind her shoulder with her hand.

“Sorry about N’vael.  Whenever he takes a nap he doesn’t like to be disturbed.”

“Obviously,” Desmond said, “I’ve never in my life heard of a dragon who would enjoy being interrupted in the middle of sleep, they don’t take very kindly to it.”

The girl let out a small giggle, a musical sound that made his stomach jump.

“You’re right about that,” she said, “So, what’s your name?”

“Desmond,”

“Nice name,” she smiled again, “I’m Ashley.”

Desmond blushed.  “You don’t have such a bad name yourself.”

“You’re sweet.”

Desmond would have enjoyed talking with her alone for a longer while, but just then Nick came trotting up to them.

“There you are,” he said, “I was wondering what happened to you.”

“Hi, Nick.” Ashley said.

“Hey, Ashley,” Nick greeted, then he glanced at the bronze dragon, “Is everything all right?  N’vael seems to be on edge.”

“I, um, tripped over his tail . . . while he was sleeping,” said Desmond.

“Yeah, that’s not really a good idea.  Dragons tend to get a little angry when their nap is disturbed.”

“Yeah, I noticed.”

“Just be glad he didn’t attack you,”

“He wouldn’t have done that,” reassured Ashley.

If he had, I would’ve clawed both of his eyes out.  Jasmin threatened with smug confidence.

N’vael snorted, You, little dragon?  You could do no more than scratch me.

“That’s enough, N’vael,” said Ashley.

N’vael grunted, but said nothing more.

“So Ashley, are you heading to the Dining Hall?” asked Nick.

Again Ashley smiled, “No, not tonight.  I have to stay and work out the kinks in N’vael’s saddle, it still doesn’t fit right.  I might have to tighten a few straps.”

“All right, then.  See you around.”

As Nick turned and started through endless maze, Desmond raised a hand in farewell and quickly followed.

“Nick,” Desmond called, “hey, Nick!  Slow down!”

He sped up to a jog and tried to catch up, Jasmin following closely at his heels.  Apparently, it seemed to him that Nick was already forgetting Desmond was a brand new recruit to the Cooperation.

The Dining Hall was nothing particularly special.  It was large, that much Desmond noted in his mind and thought for a brief second that the entire Hall looked no more fancy than a school cafeteria.  The food was nothing to boast about either.  Tough, dry, oven-cooked pork slabs served on silver trays that were handed to each soldier along with a side of fruits and vegetables.

Jasmin shuddered and licked her chops, eyeing each pork chop as one by one they were served to each of the soldiers.

“Good God!” Desmond exclaimed, “Jasmin, I just remembered you’ve had nothing to eat since you hatched, you must be starving.”

I wouldn’t mind something to eat, that meat looks splendid.  She licked her chops again.

Desmond walked to the counter and picked up one of the small, metal trays.  One of the cooks picked up a slab of meat using a pair of metal tongs and laid it on the tray along with an apple, a few carrots, and some broccoli.

“Can I get an extra piece of meat?” Desmond asked the cook.

“Sorry, kid.” The cook replied in a low, scratchy voice, “Only one slab per person.  Next!”

“Come on, I need to feed my dragon.” Desmond pleaded.

“Your dragon can hunt for itself,” the cook said.

“She was just hatched today, she’s too young.” Desmond said, his patience already growing thin.

“Well, that’s your problem, not mine.  If you wanted to feed that lizard of yours then feed it instead of being lazy.  Now go away, you’re holding up the line.  Next!”

Desmond didn’t even wait for his temper to rise.  He reached across the counter and grabbed the cook’s apron and, with a violent pull, brought his face closer to his own.

“I’m going to ask you once more, if you argue, I’ll put your head through this damn counter.” Desmond said, his voice surprisingly calm. 

It was a threat, of course.  Desmond knew he might be in a world of trouble if he assaulted some one who may have only been following orders.  And, he figured, the Head Corps might already chew him out for putting his hands on him whatsoever.

“I’m only permitted to hand out one serving only, now get your hands off me you thug!” the cook spat angrily.

Desmond jerked him once more and shoved him none too softly back over the counter. 

Clenching his teeth in anger, Desmond grabbed his trey and stalked to an empty table and sat down.  Jasmin came up to him and nudged his leg.  Desmond looked down at her and, taking the pork slab, laid it on the floor in front of her.

What about you? She asked unsurely.

I’ll be just fine with the fruit and vegetables, go on and eat; you need it more than I do.  Desmond clenched his fists at the thought that the cooks wouldn’t even spare an extra piece of meat for a small dragon no matter how hungry they were.  It seemed wrong that the cooks could care less about the dragons’ health; he made a mental note to mention this to the Head.

Jasmin, still a bit unsure of herself, began slowly tearing large bites from the pork chop.  The vegetables were fresh, at least, and the apple tasted as if it had just turned ripe.  Desmond was not the least bit sorry for handling the cook so violently, nor that he did not have a full meal.  Jasmin could not hunt for herself until she grew but until then, it was up to him to provide for her.

Nick walked up and sat next to him, no food tray whatsoever.  Desmond assumed he had already eaten, surprisingly quickly.

“What was that all about?” He asked interrogatively.

Desmond sighed and crunched on a small carrot, “The guy was rude,” he said, swallowing, “he couldn’t even give me another pork chop for Jasmin, so I gave her mine.”

“I can’t blame you there,” Nick said, crossing his arms, “but it is the rider’s duty to provide food for their dragon at least when its big enough to hunt on its own.  I have no doubt the Head will have you flogged in front of everyone for that.”

“I’m not sorry in the least, and I don’t care if I get flogged.  I had to get Jasmin something to eat and that idiot didn’t even care.”

“Well, you’ll care a great deal when you feel a leather strap rip your back open,” Nick informed.

“No, I don’t think I will,”

By now, Jasmin had finished the pork slab Desmond had given her and as she swallowed the last bite, she said, I don’t care whether the Head is master of this place or master of the world, I will not see my rider beaten only for trying to feed me.

Jasmin, I don’t think you’ll have any say in it whether he decides to flog me or not.  Desmond told her.

That is where you are wrong, Desmond, they will hear me out even if I have to scream over everyone to make my voice heard.  She replied, venom strong in her voice.

I doubt that would make things any better.

            Desmond glared over at the cook, who was now speaking to two guards, obviously about him, as he tossed Desmond angry glances and pointed a finger towards him.  The guards nodded and began walking in their direction.

            “Speak of the devil,” Desmond muttered when the two men reached the table where he and Nick were seated.

            “Come with us,” one of the guards said,

Simply, with no questions asked, Desmond stood and followed them out of the Dining Hall through the large corridors.

Of course, the Head was not happy with his little stunt. In fact, the old man was furious.  When Desmond walked in and sat himself in a chair in front of the desk, the Head was red-faced and breathing heavily, glaring at him the whole time.  They sat there for one long minute that strangely seemed to stretch past the same length of an hour.  Waiting was not Desmond’s more favorite things to do.  No one has ever been able to stare him down, when some one has a history of violence like he has it gets difficult to look them in the eye.  But somehow, the Head did not seem affected by his stare and held the glare without so much as a blink, burrowing into his entire being.  The Head also had a history of violence, one worse than Desmond could ever have, of war and death, experience that would take him years to fully understand.  That was the reason the Head had been able to look in his eyes without being forced to look away.

Finally, Desmond folded his arms and broke the silence

“So, are you going to yell at me, or are you just going to sit there and keep staring?” he said.

“Shut your mouth,” the Head replied coolly, “By God, you’ve been here no more than three hours and your already creating trouble.  Attacking a cook?  Bah!  Attacking anyone within these walls is an action lower than dirt.  I’ll beg you to give me a reason not to have you flogged, and I’ll be damned if I�",”

“And you can drop dead, old man.”  Desmond interrupted fiercely.

The guards standing at the door grew wide-eyed. If the Head had been shocked or surprised at this retort, there was no sign on his face that confirmed it. Instead he grew quiet; keeping the same deadeye glare he had started out with.

Desmond continued, “I don’t care whether you have me flogged or not, but I won’t go quietly.  If I have to feed my dragon when she’s hungry then by God I’m going to do it.  I don’t know and I don’t give a crap what that fat slob behind the counter you call a cook told you, but I’m sure it wasn’t the full story.  I understand that it’s my duty to feed Jasmin while she is still so young, but I am not the least bit sorry for taking such drastic measures trying to fulfill that duty, and I’ll be damned if that’s the reason you are having me flogged, sir.”

“That is no reason for putting your hands on that fat slob, who just so happens to be one of the very few people who volunteered to provide food for this whole corporation.” The Head shouted.

“Except maybe, he was rude and insulting. Did he tell you that?” Desmond shot back, “Let me tell you something, Jasmin has already threatened to turn on you if you do happen to have me flogged.  And I don’t think it would be a good idea to make an enemy of a dragon by having her rider beaten in front of her before she even learns to fly.  An action like that will make her grow up hating you, and she already doesn’t like you for the way you spoke to me earlier, and in case you haven’t noticed, revenge from a dragon is never a good thing.”

“I don’t care, if she likes me or not.” The old man retorted, “hell, I could care less!  And if she just so happens to attack me, I can have you arrested and executed without so much as a wave of my hand.”

“Oh, yeah.  That’ll make things so much better.”  Desmond said sarcastically, “Me attacking someone in this academy may be a crime lower than dirt, but having a rider executed because his dragon is only trying to protect him, is a crime lower than Satan’s throne in Hell.”

Even Desmond seemed surprised at his own words, much less the Head, the guards, and even Jasmin.  The room grew quiet, and stayed that way for a long time, one of the guards even cleared his throat just to offer some kind of comforting sound to break the awkward silence.

The Head could not help but see a great bit of truth in those words.  He had had riders flogged before, and every one of their dragons had developed a still growing dislike for him instead of the respect he thought he so rightly deserved.  But having one executed, he has never done before.

“I’ll tell you one thing, kid,” the Head said finally, “you’ve sure got a mouth on you.”

“Yeah, well, it runs in the family.” Desmond muttered.

If I may intervene, sir, Jasmin said quietly, directing her words so both of them could hear. I will have no reason to hurt you, so long as you do not hurt Desmond.  If you will forgive him for his actions, then I will have no right to hold a grudge.  But I will not promise a thing if you have him beaten. 

“Hm,” the Head grunted at her, “I don’t have to forgive anything, and I don’t care if you hate me to the grave.  Fine, I will pardon your pathetic excuse of a rider, but one more action like that and he will be flogged, make no mistake.”

“Pathetic�"?” Desmond scoffed.

Thank you, sir.  Jasmin quickly said before Desmond could toss another retort at the old man.

“Your excused, get out of my sight.” The Head replied with a wave of his hand.

Desmond, with Jasmin following, let the guards lead them back to the dormitory.  The guards even typed in the passcode that allowed the door to open and them to enter.  As the guards walked away, Desmond noticed that one of them quickly tossed him a strange glance over his shoulder that, for some reason, looked a bit fearful.  Desmond shrugged it off and began to make his way through the maze of bunk sections, carefully watching his feet in case he should trip over another sleeping dragon.

Without help from a guide, it took still another half-hour, certainly longer than it should have been for Desmond to find his own bed.  And by the time they finally found the right section, Desmond’s feet ached and his sour mood had not improved much since having to go through the torture of the previous argument with the Head.

“Pathetic, he says.”  He grumbled.

Oh, stop your sulking already.  Jasmin said.  You should at least be thankful he was willing to excuse you.

I don’t really think he was willing to forgive, Desmond said, I think, maybe, he wanted nothing more than to have me lashed.

Maybe so, but he didn’t.

Hmph.  Desmond sat down on the bed, which seemed surprisingly comfortable.  He stared at the five uniforms, confused.  What am I supposed to wear to bed? 

Then he sighed and refused to care, and decided he would sleep in the clothes he had on, and that he may bathe before he changed into one of the uniforms in the morning.  He picked the clothes up and laid them on the empty top bunk spread and smoothed out as to avoid developing wrinkles in the fine fabric, then laid down in his bed and pulled the warm blankets to his chin.

Jasmin leaped up onto the bed and curled herself next to his side.  For a moment neither of them spoke, and Desmond’s eyes began to drift.  But before he could close his eyes completely, Jasmin spoke and snapped him awake again.

Desmond?  She said.

Yes?

When you gave me my name, where did it come from?  She asked curiously.

Nowhere, Desmond answered simply, I made it up.

That is not true and we both know it, Jasmin said, refusing to back down, I know you came up with it from a story your mother told you when you were a child.

Why are you so curious about it all of a sudden?  Desmond said.

I want to hear the story, Desmond.  Will you tell it to me?  She asked.

Not tonight, Desmond said, it’s getting late and I’m tired, maybe tomorrow.

But I’m curious to know, Jasmin pleaded.

Tomorrow, he repeated.

Please?

Desmond sighed and gave up, if he didn’t tell her the story, he figured she would keep him up all through the night asking him over and over again.  So without further argument, he rested his hands behind his head, and began…

 

Long ago, when dragons lived separate from humans, there was a village that only relied on ovens and furnaces for warmth instead of the electricity we use today.  In that small village was a boy that was kin to a poor family who could not afford heat from an oven.  Instead, they kept warm huddled under blankets that the boy’s mother knitted from old rags and cloth.  Food for them was scarce; they could not afford even the smallest stretch of land for farming. They could only afford small pieces of bread that they bought from markets with what little money they had.

The boy’s father was the only one who could provide food by hunting deer in the large forest near their house.  But he had fallen ill to a disease that weakened his heart and was unable to leave the house.  So the boy, who was the only one capable enough among his mother, three sisters, and younger brother, volunteered to hunt for them.  And packing his bow and quiver of arrows and the luck his dear family wished him, he set off through the deep snow into the forest.

It was a week after winter had started and the snow was already knee-deep, and sub-zero temperatures ravaged the boy’s skin with frostbite, cold and unmerciful nature threatening to claim him.  But the boy with a strong will, pushed forth and refused to be taken.

Hours later, when the boy had traveled miles away from his home, he heard a sound.  The sound of an animal snarling through the harsh whistle of the wind, and with newfound energy, the boy traveled quickly and carefully to the source of the sound.

What he found stopped him dead in mid-step.  A green dragon, great and majestic, lay injured and tied incapacitated within the web of a poacher’s net.  Surrounding the poor dragon was a pack of hungry wolves, snarling and snapping their jaws.

Dragons may have been apart from civilization, wanting nothing to do with humans.  But they are still greatly respected, being one of the most intelligent species next to humans, and seeing one at the mercy of such lowly life forms seemed morally wrong.

With this thought taken into heart, the boy strung his bow and aimed.  The arrow pierced through the cold winter wind and buried itself deep in the ribs of one of the wolves.  The wolf let out a cry and fell dead onto its side.

The other wolves seeing this began to advance toward him, turning their attention from the dragon.  The boy let loose six more arrows and each one hit its mark.  He ran forward to the dragon’s side, three more wolves following closely behind.  Turning back, the boy strung three arrows at the same time and let them loose, and each arrow buried itself into each of the wolves’ throats.

The boy turned to the helpless dragon and, bringing out a small penknife, quickly began to cut through the ropes.  He was only one rope short of freeing the dragon, when one wolf pounced on him and savagely tore at his shoulder, driving him to the ground.

The wolf would not give up, despite the boy’s frantic slashing with his knife.  Blood soaked through his jacket and dripped into the snow, he felt himself beginning to quickly lose strength.  So with a final surge of energy, he reached out with his knife and cut the final rope that imprisoned the dragon within the net.

Bursting free from her restraints, the dragon seized the boy’s attacker within her jaws and, with a shake, broke its neck.  Tossing the dead wolf aside, the dragon studied the boy lying on the ground in front of her.  He was bleeding badly from the wound on his shoulder, and shaking violently.  The boy could not help but feel a touch of fear at now being fully at her mercy.

The dragon had to think, she had just had her life saved by a lowly human, and not only human, but a human child.  Such an event would be shameful to any dragon.  But she could not suppress the feeling of gratitude she felt toward him, and now her savior was hurt.  She could not just leave the child there to die.  So she reached out, the boy flinched but was too weak to move, and she gently gathered him in her claws and leapt aloft.  She used her other paw to shield him from the wind as they flew for miles through the foul winter cold.

Finally, she came to a landing in a dark cave in the side of a mountain hundreds of feet above the ground.  When she set the boy down, he shied away to the farther side of the cave away from her and curled himself into a ball, still shivering from the cold.  The dragon was between himself and the cave opening, there would be no hope of escape without getting past her.  The boy still did not understand that the dragon meant him no harm, not after his heroic act that saved her life.  He stayed huddled against that cold stone wall watching her carefully; his penknife and bow had both been lost when she took him, leaving him completely defenseless.  The dragon lay curled several yards away, still awake and watching.

The boy had no thoughts of possible survival; he was scared and weak with no weapons and a wounded shoulder that had scabbed over in the few hours of flight.  He felt sure the dragon would attack at any given moment.

But if the dragon meant to kill him, then why hadn’t she done it earlier?  He thought that maybe she would wait, until the wound had grown infected, or when the chilling winds caused him to develop frostbite in his limbs and rendered them useless, or wait until he could no longer take the evil hauntings of sleep.

It was of no comfort to realize that his eyelids were slowly beginning to droop.  No matter how hard he tried to resist, his exhausted energy stripped him of his will to stay awake.  He looked over at the dragon, she had closed her eyes and seemed well enough asleep, maybe he would try to sneak around her?  No, there was no chance of summoning the sufficient amount of strength to even hold his head up, let alone stand.  And so, alert but tired, he fell into the sweet embrace of his dreams that so plagued him.

 Minutes later, the dragon opened her eyes to find that the boy had fallen asleep.  She had not been asleep herself, but figured the boy would never rest if he knew she was awake, as afraid as he was.  She studied the boy, who was shaking still as he slept, and thought…humans were not as accustomed to cold weather as dragons were, given the fact that dragons had stored heat within their bodies despite the scientific theory that they were reptiles and were cold-blooded.  And humans, given their lack of this heat, could have no chance of surviving. She knew that if the boy stayed this way, with only his torn coat, he would surely die…

 

What did she do?  Jasmin asked.

Desmond sighed and continued.

As gently as she could so she would not wake the boy, she reached out a claw and slowly pulled him close to her.  Covering him with a wing and curling her tail around him, she held him to her chest, keeping him warm and thus saving his life.

The next morning, the dragon carried the still sleeping boy back to his home, where the local healer, at her request, treated the boy’s wounds free of any charge.  After her new friend had been bandaged and cleaned, she flew away into the woods and minutes later, carried back five of the largest and fattest deer she could find.  Certainly not enough to last the boy’s family the full winter, she knew, so she agreed to stay and hunt for them.  She believed it was the least she could do to return the favor.

The dragon decided she would stay with the boy, long after winter.  She chose to look after him and his family and prevent any harm that would befall them, so she became their guardian and devoted her life to it.  And even that, she believed, was not enough to express her gratitude for her savior.

Years later, after that boy became a man, he sneaked away from his home to go on his own private hunting trip.  It was then that, ironically, he was attacked by wolves.  Unable to defend himself from so many, he was quickly overwhelmed.  His body was never found.  The only trace of him that was ever discovered, was his torn and bloodied coat and his bow.  And in her grief, the dragon disappeared, never to be seen again.  The boys name died along with the boy himself, no one knows why, but the dragon’s name lived throughout history.

 

And her name…?  Jasmin started.

Was Jasmin, Desmond finished.

 

Author's Note

I started this a while ago, so there will be grammar problems along with incorrect use of words. Please point any of these out for me, and I will fix them when I get the chance.