My Dragon

A lightness in my step despite my disobedience, chores ignored. My mouth opened wide in a smile as I ran, the wind feeding me, allowing me to push on. At the tender age of eight, I thought I was on top of the world, like I could fool anyone.

I met a dragon!

I didn’t give her a name, it didn’t feel right. I just called her my dragon… to myself, of course. If anyone else knew, they’d kill her. That’s how it worked here, everyone so damn afraid, so damn ignorant, and so damn… stupid.

It was pretty plain to me that dragons weren’t dangerous. There were so few dragons left and they just wanted to live their lives away from all these scary, stupid humans. Yet if a person and a dragon crossed paths, the person told everyone and they all went on a hunt and chased the dragon until it couldn’t be chased anymore… . Humans were cruel when they killed dragons. I wished I’d never heard these stories, I wished I’d never known the malice of man, I wished I’d never been born into a people and time where dragons were seen as demons in need of extinction.

I knew how risky this could be. But I was swift, stealthy, and knew how to hide and keep secrets. Of course I was afraid that I might get caught, but I didn’t really see that as a possibility. As I said, I knew how to hide and keep secrets. 

I bounded into the clearing. Excitement thrummed in my veins, but I slowed down, finding the twists and turns it takes to get to our meeting place. The bark of the trees felt rough but cool on my hot little hands as I trailed my way to her. They helped ground me, helped me keep my focus.

A flash of cobalt. I saw her! My dragon!

She already smelled me, I could tell. I slipped between two taller-than-me bushes, and there she was. In one leap, she was in front of me, sniffing and nuzzling. Her tail wagged like a dog’s, happy to see me. I was happy to see her, too.

Thick, sharp claws on small but powerful feet. Tail a pace long, a bright red scythe-like tip at its end. Wings so thin they seemed like brittle leaves, but strong enough to lift our combined weights, even if only for a moment. Scales smooth and crammed together, never failing to remind me of how the old ladies packed up snacks of almonds and other nuts. On top of her head were four small horns in a wide V-shape that would never grow larger because she was female. Her head itself slimmed along her snout, but her bite effectively deadly—not like I’d know, she’d only ever nipped me playfully. And her eyes were the darkest green they seemed black, but enough sweetness endured in them to melt your heart. But only I had been close enough to see.

She was perfect. And she was my best friend.

I petted her on the head between her horns, her favorite spot. “Hey, girl.” She yawned and growled happily, my favorite sound. My face hurt from the bigness of my smile.

I sat down next to her and she flopped onto her back and looked at me, really looked at me. In those spellbinding, foresty eyes, I saw adoration and trust, and I was as happy as I could be.

***

I’d just turned ten when a churlish man came to me and gave me a spear. I considered him, clear confusion on my face, but he said nothing. Just walked away. I shrugged, tossed the spear aside, and went to meet up with my dragon.

The next day, a different churlish man came to me and gave me a spear. “Nedd, this is a spear. All boys and girls your age get one. They train to become warriors. Isn’t that exciting?” His face didn’t look excited. Didn’t sound it, either. I shrugged at him, and he frowned. He pushed me toward a training ground. “Go on, over there. With everyone else. Now!” I ran over even though I didn’t want to. I only wanted to eat my midday meal so I could go see my dragon.

***

For the next three weeks, I had no chance to go see her. By then I was desperate and faked illness to get out of training, to sneak out and go to the forest. I took my time making sure no one saw me.

When I got there, I couldn’t find her. She was always there before me, but not this time. Disappointed, I sat down, closed my eyes, and hoped with all my heart that she would appear.

She did about ten minutes later. My eyes were still closed, but I heard her breathing. I smiled, opened my eyes. “Hey, girl.” She looked hurt. Like she thought I’d abandoned her. It made me want to cry.

“I’m so sorry, girl… . They have me training to be a warrior now. I don’t want to, but they keep forcing me. They withhold food if I don’t go, and they train us so hard I can barely walk back to my room.” She raised her head. “I wish Dragon Tamer was a profession… well, no, you’re already quite tame, huh? Then how about just, Dragon Friend? I wish that’s all I could be… .” Sadly, I reached my hand out to her and waited. She sniffed it and finally nibbled me, a sign of forgiveness. Understanding, too.

I leaned in and hugged her tight. “Thanks.” She responded with a content growl.

***

After that, I made sure to get out to the forest at least once a week. I’d’ve loved to sneak off more frequently, but training was no joke and the teachers and overseers had the eyes of hawks.

My dragon grew slowly. By that time, I’d known her for a little over three years and she’d gone from just barely bigger than a goat to… a larger goat. She reproached me with a soft bite and a flare of her nostrils whenever I made fun of her size.

I’d grown bigger and taller too, but only a tad. Presumedly there was little promise for me, and I was glad for it. I didn’t want to be a warrior. And yet, I didn’t get the luxury of choice.

She’d then matured enough to start trying to breathe fire. So many here believed that dragons were born big, born mean, and born ready to unleash horrendous, devilish fire and destruction on all humankind… . It simply wasn’t true.

Besides my dragon, I’d seen two others, a mother and her hatchling. When I came across them, I was afraid, but only for their safety. If I’d easily seen three dragons near our town, then who else had?

They were equally as calm as my dragon. The mother eyed me while her hatchling napped. And she did nothing but acknowledge my existence. She didn’t rain her wrath down on me, not at all. I smiled and nodded at her before walking away. There were times when I’d pondered telling someone about how dragons weren’t how they all thought they were, but I knew that would only be a death sentence.

Anyway, one day my dragon took a deep breath and then exhaled. I looked at her quizzically. She stomped her feet in a sort of tantrum and tried again. Nothing happened, but realization dawned on me. “You want to breathe fire?” She grumbled.

“Try again.” She did, with the same result. “Huh.”

For the next six, seven months, I tried helping and coaching her to breathe fire. Sometimes a small ember would come out of those jaws of hers, but most of the time, nothing. I scratched my head at how this could be since every dragon I’d ever heard of or read about had the ability. She was confused too, and downhearted.

I felt bad for her, but I couldn’t do anything. I’d failed her. I was just a stupid human. I sucked back in my tears and hugged my dragon.

***

About two years later, she still couldn’t breathe fire. She stopped trying a long time ago, which made me sad. Even dragons knew when something was futile, it seemed.

I was kind of in the same rut. They ran us through our exercises, telling us every day that we were trained to protect our people. But I was small for my age and couldn’t master techniques like the others, so they made me and a few other kids begin training as healers instead. Glad to not be forced to be a warrior anymore, I worked my hardest to be a healer, but I was no good at that, either. It’d be nice to be able to help people, but my mind couldn’t keep up with the memorization, the mixing of this herb and that herb and no, don’t touch that one, that one’s poisonous but only in the later months. It was too confusing. 

My dragon comforted me in this just like I comforted her with her fire. She didn’t have the dexterity to show me how to mix things, and she couldn’t read, so there wasn’t much she could do, just like there wasn’t much I could do for her fire breathing. I was happy to have her by my side, though, and I knew she felt the same.

***

At 15, I hit a growth spurt. My body skyrocketed and bulked up, taller than some of the adults and wider, sturdier than most my age.

They quickly scrapped all my training as a healer and began to fashion me as a warrior once more.

They were wild, unforgiving in their renewed training.

***

With a week left in my training, I snuck away again. Probably for the last time before the Cage Event, which needed to be outlawed, the people responsible punished.

I hadn’t been able to get away for a while. It ate at me something mighty. There was still no one I could talk to, trust, or hold as dear as I held my dragon.

We’d changed—gotten older, bigger—but she and I were the same as ever. We’d been friends for over ten years! I couldn’t wait to have more with her. All I needed to do was finish my training, go on a skirmish or two, and I’d quit and run away. I told her of this plan a while back, and she seemed pleased. She had no one but me, her parents killed right before I met her. We were alike in more ways than we were different. We both understood that.

I reached our meeting place. “Girl!”

She wasn’t there.

She must’ve thought I abandoned her again. I wished she wouldn’t think that of me.

I waited.

And waited.

There wasn’t a lot of time left before my absence would go noticed, so I got up to go. I thought she was upset with me, but also with people in general. All dragons knew of the Cage Event, after all. They all knew to hide the week before; that must be what she was doing.

“I’ll see you later, then,” I said to our empty meeting place. “Just wait a little bit longer. We’ll leave this awful place together, don’t you worry. Forever with you.”

***

At the tender age of 18, I know that all of my childhood was a lie. I was not—am not—on top of the world. The world laughed at me. Could eat me alive.

I am the fool.

A dragon the color of cobalt, with a bright red scythe-like tip at the tail’s end sits in front of me in the Cage, collared and weak-looking.

My dragon.

They want me to kill her.

My heart drops, plummets so far it goes down into the hellish grounds that await these people.

They didn’t bring me up as a warrior to protect people… they brought me up as a warrior to kill dragons. The very few dragons left. Talk about diabolical.

They begin to explain that I need to end it as soon as they open the Cage. “Don’t give it a chance to retaliate! It’ll use its blazing fire on you, on everyone! Kill it quick!”

Bullshit. A whole mess of bullshit. 

Only I know that she can’t breathe fire even though she’s tried so hard. Only I know that she doesn’t have it in her to kill. Look at her! She’s scared to death! Those kind, soulful eyes… made miserable by these monsters guised as people! I can’t bear it! I fight my tears and lose. They trail down my face and more laughter closes in around me.

I shut my eyes, exhale, force myself taller. Use my height, use my broad chest and shoulders. They think I’ve given in, that I’ll do as I’m told.

“Go on, Nedd. I’m goin’ to open the Cage, so get ready. Do it quick, y’hear?!”

But my life is for the dragons.

I steel my nerves. I plant my weapon blade down in the hardened earth before me.

On behalf of all of them, something deep inside me breaks and out pours—a new flame! A new raving, everlasting flame!

At once, I understood. My dragon stares at me, understanding also flashing in her dark eyes.

With the reassurance of the flame and of my best friend—my dragon—I roar:

“I refuse!”