The Last
Dragon
Dragon
Bryana Combs
Prologue
Adoniay twitched in her sleep, images of a horrid black monster flashing through her dreams. It was almost dragon, the creature. But its eyes glowed an unearthly, sickly yellow-green, its scales glistening like wet obsidian. Its fangs were long and white, its talons clean and ebony colored, deceiving they had never ripped into another dragon’s flesh.
The she-dragon’s eyes flicked open, wide as they took in the scene of the cave. Nothing moved save the shadows of rain disturbing the moonlit cave wall. The sound of rain on stone echoed around her, soothing the images out of her head.
Adoniay stood and stretched, sucking in the scent of rain. Her metallic blue-green scales were turned silver by the full moon, and her eyes glittered gold. Gold plates adorned her chest and stomach, gold horns her head and back.
The dragon sighed with relief as she stretched her cramped wings, and her stomach growled angrily for food. Adoniay rolled her eyes.
Though she was only the size of a large Clydesdale, needed to eat at least three times her weight in food each day, a vital something she had to neglect in the past months after her parents’ death.
She shivered as images reentered her mind. Of her parents, lying slaughtered on the floor of the cave they had lived in, of the deep gashes that dyed there shimmering scales crimson with blood, of she and Ehrin running for their lives. Sounds. Sounds the screams. Of the roars that echoed through the forests, of the cries of grief that were never said. Of the tears that were never shed.
Never again, would she let that happen. She and Ehrin were all that was left of Dragon Isles. Of the world, most likely. The last of the dragons.
“I’m going hunting Ehrin,” Said the she-dragon, looking over her shoulder and forcing the thoughts of her head.
“Ehrin?”
Adoniay’s sweet voice echoed through the cave.
“Ehrin?!”
Once again there was no answer, and Adoniay began to panic, horrid images of her little brother dead somewhere rushing into her mind. She turned, running as fast as her legs would carry her.
The rain had begun to stop, and the moment she sped out of the cave, the she-dragon spread her wings and lifted off into the cool night air. It was midnight, but a full moon made it seem as though it was day in another dimension.
“Ehrin!” cried Adoniay, her voice piercing the silent night.
An eerie, unnerving silence had rested on the forest, and even the nocturnal Mocking Jays had fallen silent. Adoniay circled the forest, crying for her only living relative. After what seemed like hours, the she-dragon landed on a cliff, tears shining silver in the faint wisps of light from the cloud covered moon. All hope lost, she turned, heading back to the only home she knew.
Suddenly a young, soft voice shrieked, muffled by the distance between them.
“Ehrin!” Adoniay cried as loud as she could, lifting off and flying so swiftly toward the sound she looked as if a silver flash.
She heard the sound again, louder this time, and landed in the clearing she heard it in.
Adoniay gasped at what she saw. Ehrin was chained between two trees, his beautiful red scales and gold points covered in mud and caked with sticky, crimson blood. His glittering golden eyes were wide in fear, shining with tears that streamed down his muzzle.
“Run Adoniay! It’s a trap!” He cried desperately, drops of tears falling to the dusty clearing.
“What?” His sister was confused, but realized too late what he had meant, for at that moment she was bowled over by something much larger than herself.
“No!” screeched Ehrin, trying to rip away from the chains.
Adoniay snarled as she was pinned to the ground, and looked up at the face of her attacker.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Tusiga’s brat. I should’ve killed you while I had you under my claws!” growled the black nightmare of her dreams. “No matter, I’ll deal just as well with you now!” It rasped, its deep voice cracking as it laughed.
The she-dragon rolled away just in time to half avoid it’s deadly poison tipped claws, and as she did so leaned forward and bit into its neck as a sharp pain went through the side of her face.
She grimaced in disgust at the taste of its acrid tasting blood and foul breath so close to her as the creature roared with pain, and reeled back.
Adoniay took the chance and ran over to Ehrin. Fighting the pain, she melted the chains to breaking point and snapped them, freeing her brother.
“Come on!” She cried, not wanting to give up valuable escape time. She turned to run but whipped around again at a sharp cry of fear from Ehrin.
The creature had grabbed him and took off, laughing evilly as it began to pour and flying towards the sea.
Adoniay snarled angrily, spitting and taking off after it. Still young and not experienced in flight, the she-dragon hesitated slightly as she flew out above the ocean after the creature, leaving the pale, rocky cliffs of the still summer-green Dragon Isles. The hesitation evaporated quickly as Adoniay heard another fearful cry from her little brother.
“I’m coming!” She cried, trying to calm him, but her voice was drown out in the roar of the ocean, rain, and thunder.
Suddenly the creature’s tail lashed out at Adoniay, catching her off guard. She dodged in the nick of time, flying under it and slicing its stomach before swooping back.
Satisfied at the roar of pain, she came back for another blow, but was swatted by large talons. Adoniay snarled as searing pain as sharp as lightning rocketed through her side, her stop allowing the creature to get ahead. The tail lashed at her again, and Adoniay grabbed it in her jaws, biting down as hard as she could.
The creature lashed its tail from side to side, trying to knock the she-dragon off. The smaller of the two held on for dear life, biting deeper and deeper, starting to black out from dizziness.
Unfortunately the rain made the creature’s black-green scales slick, and Adoniay lost her grasp, plummeting to the water below too fast for her to catch the wind in her wings. The shock of freezing water sent pain through her body so extreme, the little dragon couldn’t make even a cry of distress as she hit the waves with such force she was knocked out cold.
The last things she heard as the world turned black was the laugh of the monster and her brother’s screams.
Prologue
Adoniay twitched in her sleep, images of a horrid black monster flashing through her dreams. It was almost dragon, the creature. But its eyes glowed an unearthly, sickly yellow-green, its scales glistening like wet obsidian. Its fangs were long and white, its talons clean and ebony colored, deceiving they had never ripped into another dragon’s flesh.
The she-dragon’s eyes flicked open, wide as they took in the scene of the cave. Nothing moved save the shadows of rain disturbing the moonlit cave wall. The sound of rain on stone echoed around her, soothing the images out of her head.
Adoniay stood and stretched, sucking in the scent of rain. Her metallic blue-green scales were turned silver by the full moon, and her eyes glittered gold. Gold plates adorned her chest and stomach, gold horns her head and back.
The dragon sighed with relief as she stretched her cramped wings, and her stomach growled angrily for food. Adoniay rolled her eyes.
Though she was only the size of a large Clydesdale, needed to eat at least three times her weight in food each day, a vital something she had to neglect in the past months after her parents’ death.
She shivered as images reentered her mind. Of her parents, lying slaughtered on the floor of the cave they had lived in, of the deep gashes that dyed there shimmering scales crimson with blood, of she and Ehrin running for their lives. Sounds. Sounds the screams. Of the roars that echoed through the forests, of the cries of grief that were never said. Of the tears that were never shed.
Never again, would she let that happen. She and Ehrin were all that was left of Dragon Isles. Of the world, most likely. The last of the dragons.
“I’m going hunting Ehrin,” Said the she-dragon, looking over her shoulder and forcing the thoughts of her head.
“Ehrin?”
Adoniay’s sweet voice echoed through the cave.
“Ehrin?!”
Once again there was no answer, and Adoniay began to panic, horrid images of her little brother dead somewhere rushing into her mind. She turned, running as fast as her legs would carry her.
The rain had begun to stop, and the moment she sped out of the cave, the she-dragon spread her wings and lifted off into the cool night air. It was midnight, but a full moon made it seem as though it was day in another dimension.
“Ehrin!” cried Adoniay, her voice piercing the silent night.
An eerie, unnerving silence had rested on the forest, and even the nocturnal Mocking Jays had fallen silent. Adoniay circled the forest, crying for her only living relative. After what seemed like hours, the she-dragon landed on a cliff, tears shining silver in the faint wisps of light from the cloud covered moon. All hope lost, she turned, heading back to the only home she knew.
Suddenly a young, soft voice shrieked, muffled by the distance between them.
“Ehrin!” Adoniay cried as loud as she could, lifting off and flying so swiftly toward the sound she looked as if a silver flash.
She heard the sound again, louder this time, and landed in the clearing she heard it in.
Adoniay gasped at what she saw. Ehrin was chained between two trees, his beautiful red scales and gold points covered in mud and caked with sticky, crimson blood. His glittering golden eyes were wide in fear, shining with tears that streamed down his muzzle.
“Run Adoniay! It’s a trap!” He cried desperately, drops of tears falling to the dusty clearing.
“What?” His sister was confused, but realized too late what he had meant, for at that moment she was bowled over by something much larger than herself.
“No!” screeched Ehrin, trying to rip away from the chains.
Adoniay snarled as she was pinned to the ground, and looked up at the face of her attacker.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Tusiga’s brat. I should’ve killed you while I had you under my claws!” growled the black nightmare of her dreams. “No matter, I’ll deal just as well with you now!” It rasped, its deep voice cracking as it laughed.
The she-dragon rolled away just in time to half avoid it’s deadly poison tipped claws, and as she did so leaned forward and bit into its neck as a sharp pain went through the side of her face.
She grimaced in disgust at the taste of its acrid tasting blood and foul breath so close to her as the creature roared with pain, and reeled back.
Adoniay took the chance and ran over to Ehrin. Fighting the pain, she melted the chains to breaking point and snapped them, freeing her brother.
“Come on!” She cried, not wanting to give up valuable escape time. She turned to run but whipped around again at a sharp cry of fear from Ehrin.
The creature had grabbed him and took off, laughing evilly as it began to pour and flying towards the sea.
Adoniay snarled angrily, spitting and taking off after it. Still young and not experienced in flight, the she-dragon hesitated slightly as she flew out above the ocean after the creature, leaving the pale, rocky cliffs of the still summer-green Dragon Isles. The hesitation evaporated quickly as Adoniay heard another fearful cry from her little brother.
“I’m coming!” She cried, trying to calm him, but her voice was drown out in the roar of the ocean, rain, and thunder.
Suddenly the creature’s tail lashed out at Adoniay, catching her off guard. She dodged in the nick of time, flying under it and slicing its stomach before swooping back.
Satisfied at the roar of pain, she came back for another blow, but was swatted by large talons. Adoniay snarled as searing pain as sharp as lightning rocketed through her side, her stop allowing the creature to get ahead. The tail lashed at her again, and Adoniay grabbed it in her jaws, biting down as hard as she could.
The creature lashed its tail from side to side, trying to knock the she-dragon off. The smaller of the two held on for dear life, biting deeper and deeper, starting to black out from dizziness.
Unfortunately the rain made the creature’s black-green scales slick, and Adoniay lost her grasp, plummeting to the water below too fast for her to catch the wind in her wings. The shock of freezing water sent pain through her body so extreme, the little dragon couldn’t make even a cry of distress as she hit the waves with such force she was knocked out cold.
The last things she heard as the world turned black was the laugh of the monster and her brother’s screams.
Chapter One
Adoniay became aware at some point that she was no longer in the freezing depths of the ocean. Where she was she knew not, but she was somewhere else.
To her, that was enough.
Days passed in a sort of sleep for her, waking periodically from time to time long enough to know that she was being cared for by someone.
Sometimes her eyes would flick open while someone was treating her wounds, and though she could not make out the creature, the strange character soothed her.
As the days wore on, the young she-dragon’s body began to recover. Shattered bones began to knit themselves back together, bruises disappearing, and her scales crawling over the healing skin around her wounds in effort to close them quickly. She also began accepting food in a desperate need to survive, however awful or bitter it tasted.
Her first true awaking came upon a particularly stormy day in spring, rain pouring down outside of a closed window near her, roaring as it showered on the roof of the barn in which she lay.
It was depressingly darkened outside, the clouds creating a large gray sea of solemn, angry things. Not only that, but to add to the array the actual ocean itself was writhing and tearing at the beach.
Adoniay was quite warm, and dry herself, bedded on a blanket of hay, straw, and occasional feathers, making the bed quite soft and pleasurable.
The little dragon’s eyes flicked back and forth, taking everything in quickly but not daring to move with her body already strained as it was. One wrong move and she might tear it open again.
The barn was very spacious and clean, smelling of flowers, hay, wood, and above all, rain. The wood that made up the barn was a light sort of cedar-pine mixture that was soft and sanded, finished and making it look very nice.
A large pile of hay sat in a corner, and above her head was a loft which held much, much more of the golden bedding.
Beside it sat a barrel of oats, some tools, a saddle, a bridle, two halters, and some hitching equipment.
Adoniay herself was in just one stall, but it was pleasantly large, spaced, and covered with hay. Like one giant bed.
The door to the stall was closed, perhaps so no one would notice the young dragon, but Adoniay’s mind didn’t hold this as something to think about long.
Her gaze wandered to the two stalls next to her, which held two horses, obviously asleep. The one closest to her was a very dark bay, with black points, a chestnut star, a speck of white in that, and a spot on his haunches.
The rain had died down by this time, and Adoniay was still extremely tired, and, gazing at the flowers on the sill of the window, her glowing, golden eyes flickering shut. And she slept.
The next morning brought sunshine and the smell of last nights rain mixed with cool, crisp air and the scent of blooming flowers. Birds sung outside, and rays of sun peering through the window settled on Adoniay’s scales, warming her to the marrow of her bones.
About mid-morning someone came into the barn, setting some things on the sill of the window and opening it.
The creature was very pretty, tall with sun-kissed skin and blue eyes that looked like liquid silver-sapphire. She wore a pretty sky-blue floor length dress slightly too large for her made of a silky material that fell about the girl like water. It was plain, and the neck was very wide, coming to sleeves that rested around her broad shoulders. She wore a blue butterfly pin in her hair, which was long and a rich brown in color, with blonde streaks that reminded Adoniay of maple syrup. Sweet, golden maple syrup that her mother used to give to her and Ehrin.
Ehrin.
The thought made her wince deep inside with regret, pain, and agonizing sorrow. Sorrow that she had let him go. She had broken her promise. She had let go of him. Terrible guilt rushed over her, and she whimpered too quietly for anyone to hear.
The girl got to her knees beside the she-dragon, removing a pin in the bandages around her and peeling them off slowly, careful not to pull off any scales or skin, or make the wound bigger.
She began to rub some poultice on the wounds, which soothed the tensity in the she-dragons muscles. The girl worked quickly, and quietly, until the quietness was almost too much. Then she broke out in song.
Dear young one,
Are you lost?
The world can seem to be,
Larger than it really is,
So won’t you walk with me?
Your heart aches,
Doesn’t it?
The world’s lost cause,
As you lose yourself,
Settling to be the cost.
Every thing’s torn,
You’re life seems gone,
The pain too much to bear,
I’ll take your hand,
I’ll be there.
Let me pull you up,
Won’t you please?
Let me save this love,
That means so much to me,
So won’t you walk?
Walk with me.
The girl smiled softly as she finished, her sweet voice still hanging in the air. A tear streaked down Adoniay’s muzzle, and she blinked slowly. The girl stroked Adoniay’s neck and got up, taking up her things and bounding quietly out of the stall.
Adoniay turned, looking over her shoulder in the direction the girl left. A shimmer caught her eyes, and she smiled, laying back down her head as the bright butterfly pin sparkled in the sun, holding together the bandages.
Adoniay became aware at some point that she was no longer in the freezing depths of the ocean. Where she was she knew not, but she was somewhere else.
To her, that was enough.
Days passed in a sort of sleep for her, waking periodically from time to time long enough to know that she was being cared for by someone.
Sometimes her eyes would flick open while someone was treating her wounds, and though she could not make out the creature, the strange character soothed her.
As the days wore on, the young she-dragon’s body began to recover. Shattered bones began to knit themselves back together, bruises disappearing, and her scales crawling over the healing skin around her wounds in effort to close them quickly. She also began accepting food in a desperate need to survive, however awful or bitter it tasted.
Her first true awaking came upon a particularly stormy day in spring, rain pouring down outside of a closed window near her, roaring as it showered on the roof of the barn in which she lay.
It was depressingly darkened outside, the clouds creating a large gray sea of solemn, angry things. Not only that, but to add to the array the actual ocean itself was writhing and tearing at the beach.
Adoniay was quite warm, and dry herself, bedded on a blanket of hay, straw, and occasional feathers, making the bed quite soft and pleasurable.
The little dragon’s eyes flicked back and forth, taking everything in quickly but not daring to move with her body already strained as it was. One wrong move and she might tear it open again.
The barn was very spacious and clean, smelling of flowers, hay, wood, and above all, rain. The wood that made up the barn was a light sort of cedar-pine mixture that was soft and sanded, finished and making it look very nice.
A large pile of hay sat in a corner, and above her head was a loft which held much, much more of the golden bedding.
Beside it sat a barrel of oats, some tools, a saddle, a bridle, two halters, and some hitching equipment.
Adoniay herself was in just one stall, but it was pleasantly large, spaced, and covered with hay. Like one giant bed.
The door to the stall was closed, perhaps so no one would notice the young dragon, but Adoniay’s mind didn’t hold this as something to think about long.
Her gaze wandered to the two stalls next to her, which held two horses, obviously asleep. The one closest to her was a very dark bay, with black points, a chestnut star, a speck of white in that, and a spot on his haunches.
The rain had died down by this time, and Adoniay was still extremely tired, and, gazing at the flowers on the sill of the window, her glowing, golden eyes flickering shut. And she slept.
The next morning brought sunshine and the smell of last nights rain mixed with cool, crisp air and the scent of blooming flowers. Birds sung outside, and rays of sun peering through the window settled on Adoniay’s scales, warming her to the marrow of her bones.
About mid-morning someone came into the barn, setting some things on the sill of the window and opening it.
The creature was very pretty, tall with sun-kissed skin and blue eyes that looked like liquid silver-sapphire. She wore a pretty sky-blue floor length dress slightly too large for her made of a silky material that fell about the girl like water. It was plain, and the neck was very wide, coming to sleeves that rested around her broad shoulders. She wore a blue butterfly pin in her hair, which was long and a rich brown in color, with blonde streaks that reminded Adoniay of maple syrup. Sweet, golden maple syrup that her mother used to give to her and Ehrin.
Ehrin.
The thought made her wince deep inside with regret, pain, and agonizing sorrow. Sorrow that she had let him go. She had broken her promise. She had let go of him. Terrible guilt rushed over her, and she whimpered too quietly for anyone to hear.
The girl got to her knees beside the she-dragon, removing a pin in the bandages around her and peeling them off slowly, careful not to pull off any scales or skin, or make the wound bigger.
She began to rub some poultice on the wounds, which soothed the tensity in the she-dragons muscles. The girl worked quickly, and quietly, until the quietness was almost too much. Then she broke out in song.
Dear young one,
Are you lost?
The world can seem to be,
Larger than it really is,
So won’t you walk with me?
Your heart aches,
Doesn’t it?
The world’s lost cause,
As you lose yourself,
Settling to be the cost.
Every thing’s torn,
You’re life seems gone,
The pain too much to bear,
I’ll take your hand,
I’ll be there.
Let me pull you up,
Won’t you please?
Let me save this love,
That means so much to me,
So won’t you walk?
Walk with me.
The girl smiled softly as she finished, her sweet voice still hanging in the air. A tear streaked down Adoniay’s muzzle, and she blinked slowly. The girl stroked Adoniay’s neck and got up, taking up her things and bounding quietly out of the stall.
Adoniay turned, looking over her shoulder in the direction the girl left. A shimmer caught her eyes, and she smiled, laying back down her head as the bright butterfly pin sparkled in the sun, holding together the bandages.
Chapter Two
Days began to sort themselves out for the she-dragon, clearing and leaving her with more time awake than asleep, though the edges still blurred immensely. She came to look forward to seeing the girl, pretending to be asleep when she changed Adoniay’s bandages and checked her wounds. The dragon liked her. She liked the girl’s warm smile, her caring, swift hands, her pretty voice, and her soft, happy voice.
As she began to get stronger, the girl would tell her stories of great battles and creatures once thought extinct.
She told Adoniay of Pegasus, and how they found peace with the Unicorns after many years.
She told of Gryphons, who soared the skies, constantly crashing with Hypogriffs. She told of Sea-Kelpies running through the blue-green waters of the sea from little cat-like creatures, who so desperately wanted their golden horns.
But most of all, she told of Dragons. Glorious, beautiful dragons with shining scales, and gleaming teeth, glistening claws, and knowing eyes.
Dragons who bowed to no one, who’s Kingdom could not be wrought out from history.
Beautiful, glorious, dragons, which in their day were the most envied creature ever.
As Adoniay listened, she knew more than anyone how that world was slowly fading, how every single dragon was slowly fading back into the darkness from whence they came.
The girl got up, finished with her work and began making her way out.
“Wait,” Said Adoniay softly.
The girl turned, slightly surprised.
“Yes?”
“You stopped suddenly. Why?” Adoniay asked curiously.
“Because you’re a dragon, and the next part would be particularly-“
Adoniay interrupted her suddenly.
“I don’t think anything you could tell me could make me feel worse than I do now.
My family was viciously slaughtered before my eyes, my life shattered, and my brother taken from me. My heart’s in pieces, and telling me might help me begin to pick up the glass.”
The girl nodded and sat down. She was smart; she’d listen to reason. “Well, you can’t say I didn’t warn you,” She said softly.
Adoniay leaned in. “I won’t.”
The girl sighed. “Suddenly, one day, the King was killed. He was murdered by a dragon. It was young, like you. Perhaps it did not see him as a friend, or he was looking for revenge. Maybe he simply didn’t know that the King was King, and he thought the King was food.
“Any way he thought, he killed him. Took him right off his horse and snapped his neck. The poor fool was stabbed right through by guards attempting to save the King. The little fellow flew off, half dead, and the guards saw that their king was quite so. Dead as a doornail.
“The Queen was outraged. She wanted the Dragon killed, but no one could find him. So she got some Fains to do her dirty work. They made an Obsidian Darkling, who was instructed to catch all hatchlings and younger, and to kill any older. She wanted to see every dragon ripped apart before her eyes.
“So he began catching and killing, taking the youngsters to the castle to be trained and pitted against each other like dogs, ripping and tearing to the death.
“Soon there were very few left, and those that were hid. No one’s seen one until now.
“The Queen told her daughter to live by the seaside for a while, not wanting her to find out the sinister plans. The daughter and Princess, Bliss, however, found out anyway. But she still lives by the coast, accompanies by a little secret keeper.”
The girl got up, dusting herself off and picking up her things.
Adoniay sniffed. “What…What’s your name?”
The girl leaned down and wiped the tear from Adoniay’s snout.
“My name is Bliss.”
“Then why are you helping me?”
The girl looked Adoniay in the eyes.
“Because I love dragons, and you’re the last of them. The Last Dragon.”
And she bounded away, shining brown hair blowing in the breeze, and Adoniay’s golden eyes glittering.
Days began to sort themselves out for the she-dragon, clearing and leaving her with more time awake than asleep, though the edges still blurred immensely. She came to look forward to seeing the girl, pretending to be asleep when she changed Adoniay’s bandages and checked her wounds. The dragon liked her. She liked the girl’s warm smile, her caring, swift hands, her pretty voice, and her soft, happy voice.
As she began to get stronger, the girl would tell her stories of great battles and creatures once thought extinct.
She told Adoniay of Pegasus, and how they found peace with the Unicorns after many years.
She told of Gryphons, who soared the skies, constantly crashing with Hypogriffs. She told of Sea-Kelpies running through the blue-green waters of the sea from little cat-like creatures, who so desperately wanted their golden horns.
But most of all, she told of Dragons. Glorious, beautiful dragons with shining scales, and gleaming teeth, glistening claws, and knowing eyes.
Dragons who bowed to no one, who’s Kingdom could not be wrought out from history.
Beautiful, glorious, dragons, which in their day were the most envied creature ever.
As Adoniay listened, she knew more than anyone how that world was slowly fading, how every single dragon was slowly fading back into the darkness from whence they came.
The girl got up, finished with her work and began making her way out.
“Wait,” Said Adoniay softly.
The girl turned, slightly surprised.
“Yes?”
“You stopped suddenly. Why?” Adoniay asked curiously.
“Because you’re a dragon, and the next part would be particularly-“
Adoniay interrupted her suddenly.
“I don’t think anything you could tell me could make me feel worse than I do now.
My family was viciously slaughtered before my eyes, my life shattered, and my brother taken from me. My heart’s in pieces, and telling me might help me begin to pick up the glass.”
The girl nodded and sat down. She was smart; she’d listen to reason. “Well, you can’t say I didn’t warn you,” She said softly.
Adoniay leaned in. “I won’t.”
The girl sighed. “Suddenly, one day, the King was killed. He was murdered by a dragon. It was young, like you. Perhaps it did not see him as a friend, or he was looking for revenge. Maybe he simply didn’t know that the King was King, and he thought the King was food.
“Any way he thought, he killed him. Took him right off his horse and snapped his neck. The poor fool was stabbed right through by guards attempting to save the King. The little fellow flew off, half dead, and the guards saw that their king was quite so. Dead as a doornail.
“The Queen was outraged. She wanted the Dragon killed, but no one could find him. So she got some Fains to do her dirty work. They made an Obsidian Darkling, who was instructed to catch all hatchlings and younger, and to kill any older. She wanted to see every dragon ripped apart before her eyes.
“So he began catching and killing, taking the youngsters to the castle to be trained and pitted against each other like dogs, ripping and tearing to the death.
“Soon there were very few left, and those that were hid. No one’s seen one until now.
“The Queen told her daughter to live by the seaside for a while, not wanting her to find out the sinister plans. The daughter and Princess, Bliss, however, found out anyway. But she still lives by the coast, accompanies by a little secret keeper.”
The girl got up, dusting herself off and picking up her things.
Adoniay sniffed. “What…What’s your name?”
The girl leaned down and wiped the tear from Adoniay’s snout.
“My name is Bliss.”
“Then why are you helping me?”
The girl looked Adoniay in the eyes.
“Because I love dragons, and you’re the last of them. The Last Dragon.”
And she bounded away, shining brown hair blowing in the breeze, and Adoniay’s golden eyes glittering.
Chapter Three
Adoniay’s eyes flicked open to the dull light of morning. It was a darker day, cloudy and smelling of fresh rain. She smiled and yawned, looking over to see the horses weren’t there. She cocked her head and stood.
The she-dragon was feeling well, and her muscles, though still weak, were aching from no use, and there was little room to stretch them. Adoniay peeked her nose out the stall door, which was slightly open and unlocked.
Seeing that no one was around, the she-dragon pushed through the stall door and into the main part of the barn. The door to the actual barn was closed, but unlocked and very easy to open.
As Adoniay came out of the barn, the sweet freshness of the Oceanside air rushed to meet her, mixed with the scents of flowers, water, lush grass, rain, and strawberries. Water-birds sang happily, their melodic notes mixing with the soft roar of the ocean waves and broken only by the periodic sound of horses whinnying to each other.
The whole place was beautiful, the lush grass greener than any she had ever seen, the ocean water liquid sapphire, crystal clear near the shore and tinted with the white feathers of ocean sea-foam; the sand a beautiful honey-gold, the sky a light grey blue with large, soft grey marshmallow clouds blocking out the sun almost completely.
What sunlight that did get through shone like soft white blades, cutting down into the water. Even though it was cloudy, the air was pleasantly warm, with a slight cool breeze blowing from the north.
She closed her eyes, her muzzle in the air as she sucked in air with a relieved smile, savoring the moment as she stretched her wings as far as they could go, sending pleasant, relieving shivers down her spine.
It had been quite some time since she had moved around, making her gate somewhat choppy and stiff; but never the less she trotted the place, looking around. Her gaze was caught by the odd wooden cabin-like house that sat in the middle of the ocean-side paradise. It was very nice looking, and was finished to the point where it gleamed in the bits of sunlight that shone through the clouds.
“Finally up and about?”
Adoniay whipped around, caught off guard by the sound of someone’s voice. She turned and saw that it was only one of the horses, separated from being right next to her by a fence.
The horse was a Clydesdale, large and muscular, with an ashen black coat and oil black mane. A white stripe ran down the horse’s face, turning into a blaze at the nose and continuing down it’s neck, widening all the way, to it’s belly and down it’s back legs to the hooves. It’s eyes were a deep brown, and it’s mane was tied in little bobs held together by multi-colored ribbons.
The horse flicked its black ears. “Did I scare you?” It asked in its gruff, deep, yet soft voice.
“Well, yes. A little,” Admitted Adoniay. It was somewhat embarrassing to say she was scared by a horse, considering she was bigger and fiercer than it. But then again, she was much younger and softer than most dragons, and hadn’t known it was a horse.
But the old stallion understood. “Nothing to be ashamed of,” He laughed. His laughter was quite pleasant, a warm, happy sound. “Many a young one have been startled by me,” He whinnied reassuringly.
Adoniay smiled. “I suppose they aren’t used to a talking horse,” She said softly. Even though she could understand most animals, she knew that the old stallion was speaking in human tongues, for she knew that as well, and neighs are much different from the human word.
The horse smiled a horsey smile. “Yes, I suppose many don’t here an old horse like me talk all the time,” He said, lying down in the soft grass with a sigh.
Adoniay smiled again and hopped over the gate, lying down next to the old fellow in the lush green grass.
“Yes, there aren’t many talking horses left, you know. And the ones that are left are most as old as me.” The stallion continued with a slight yawn.
Adoniay cocked her head. “Really?” She asked.
The stallion nodded. “Speaking horses have long since disappeared, and those that were left were bred with normal horses, so the genes weren’t passed down the line.”
Adoniay looked up at the clearing sky. “The ability to speak the human tongue,” She said softly. “Is an inherited ability?”
The horse nodded. “Yes, strange as it sounds. Few can learn it unless they’re born with it, and even though it’s something that runs in your blood, it can be lost much easier than learned.” He turned to her. “Few that lose it can ever get it back.”
Adoniay’s eyes widened with awe. She had never met an animal so wise besides her own parents, and they weren’t half as graceful and awe-inspiring as this horse. “How do you lose it?” She asked curiously.
“Simple actually,” He replied. “It happens when you lose yourself. When you’re broken and can’t tell days between nights. When you lose all notion of civility, that when you lose it.”
The she-dragon was half horrified, half troubled by this. “How does that happen?” She asked.
He laughed wryly. “When someone makes you bow to them, and grovel with your nose in the dirt. That’s how.” He snapped. “Just like what that idiot queen and her monster do. Make poor creatures like you an’ me suffer for no good reason.”
Adoniay looked down. “The queen.” She said softly. “The queen’s been doing this.”
The stallion nodded. “She’s the one that made that wretched creature and told it to kill and take captive the dragons of this world. Then she just turned greedy and told it to kill all human-speaking four-legged animals on its way.” He turned. “Something tells me you’ve encountered the creature,” He coughed, eyes understanding.
The little dragon sighed wearily and nodded. “Yes. It killed my family and took my brother. It almost killed me, too.” She said softly, her eyes gleaming with unshed tears.
The stallion leaned against her, nickering in sympathy. “Poor girl,” He said under his breath. The stallion stood as a whinny sounded from a ways away. “That’s Anastasia, my mare. I must be going, Adoniay.” He neighed, and turned, beginning to gallop off.
“Wait!” Cried Adoniay, jumping up. “You haven’t ever told me your name.”
The stallion stopped and turned, tail flowing in the wind. “My name is Danza.” He called, then loped away to his mare’s calling, leaving the she-dragon alone in the fading sunset that peered through from clearing clouds.
Adoniay’s eyes flicked open to the dull light of morning. It was a darker day, cloudy and smelling of fresh rain. She smiled and yawned, looking over to see the horses weren’t there. She cocked her head and stood.
The she-dragon was feeling well, and her muscles, though still weak, were aching from no use, and there was little room to stretch them. Adoniay peeked her nose out the stall door, which was slightly open and unlocked.
Seeing that no one was around, the she-dragon pushed through the stall door and into the main part of the barn. The door to the actual barn was closed, but unlocked and very easy to open.
As Adoniay came out of the barn, the sweet freshness of the Oceanside air rushed to meet her, mixed with the scents of flowers, water, lush grass, rain, and strawberries. Water-birds sang happily, their melodic notes mixing with the soft roar of the ocean waves and broken only by the periodic sound of horses whinnying to each other.
The whole place was beautiful, the lush grass greener than any she had ever seen, the ocean water liquid sapphire, crystal clear near the shore and tinted with the white feathers of ocean sea-foam; the sand a beautiful honey-gold, the sky a light grey blue with large, soft grey marshmallow clouds blocking out the sun almost completely.
What sunlight that did get through shone like soft white blades, cutting down into the water. Even though it was cloudy, the air was pleasantly warm, with a slight cool breeze blowing from the north.
She closed her eyes, her muzzle in the air as she sucked in air with a relieved smile, savoring the moment as she stretched her wings as far as they could go, sending pleasant, relieving shivers down her spine.
It had been quite some time since she had moved around, making her gate somewhat choppy and stiff; but never the less she trotted the place, looking around. Her gaze was caught by the odd wooden cabin-like house that sat in the middle of the ocean-side paradise. It was very nice looking, and was finished to the point where it gleamed in the bits of sunlight that shone through the clouds.
“Finally up and about?”
Adoniay whipped around, caught off guard by the sound of someone’s voice. She turned and saw that it was only one of the horses, separated from being right next to her by a fence.
The horse was a Clydesdale, large and muscular, with an ashen black coat and oil black mane. A white stripe ran down the horse’s face, turning into a blaze at the nose and continuing down it’s neck, widening all the way, to it’s belly and down it’s back legs to the hooves. It’s eyes were a deep brown, and it’s mane was tied in little bobs held together by multi-colored ribbons.
The horse flicked its black ears. “Did I scare you?” It asked in its gruff, deep, yet soft voice.
“Well, yes. A little,” Admitted Adoniay. It was somewhat embarrassing to say she was scared by a horse, considering she was bigger and fiercer than it. But then again, she was much younger and softer than most dragons, and hadn’t known it was a horse.
But the old stallion understood. “Nothing to be ashamed of,” He laughed. His laughter was quite pleasant, a warm, happy sound. “Many a young one have been startled by me,” He whinnied reassuringly.
Adoniay smiled. “I suppose they aren’t used to a talking horse,” She said softly. Even though she could understand most animals, she knew that the old stallion was speaking in human tongues, for she knew that as well, and neighs are much different from the human word.
The horse smiled a horsey smile. “Yes, I suppose many don’t here an old horse like me talk all the time,” He said, lying down in the soft grass with a sigh.
Adoniay smiled again and hopped over the gate, lying down next to the old fellow in the lush green grass.
“Yes, there aren’t many talking horses left, you know. And the ones that are left are most as old as me.” The stallion continued with a slight yawn.
Adoniay cocked her head. “Really?” She asked.
The stallion nodded. “Speaking horses have long since disappeared, and those that were left were bred with normal horses, so the genes weren’t passed down the line.”
Adoniay looked up at the clearing sky. “The ability to speak the human tongue,” She said softly. “Is an inherited ability?”
The horse nodded. “Yes, strange as it sounds. Few can learn it unless they’re born with it, and even though it’s something that runs in your blood, it can be lost much easier than learned.” He turned to her. “Few that lose it can ever get it back.”
Adoniay’s eyes widened with awe. She had never met an animal so wise besides her own parents, and they weren’t half as graceful and awe-inspiring as this horse. “How do you lose it?” She asked curiously.
“Simple actually,” He replied. “It happens when you lose yourself. When you’re broken and can’t tell days between nights. When you lose all notion of civility, that when you lose it.”
The she-dragon was half horrified, half troubled by this. “How does that happen?” She asked.
He laughed wryly. “When someone makes you bow to them, and grovel with your nose in the dirt. That’s how.” He snapped. “Just like what that idiot queen and her monster do. Make poor creatures like you an’ me suffer for no good reason.”
Adoniay looked down. “The queen.” She said softly. “The queen’s been doing this.”
The stallion nodded. “She’s the one that made that wretched creature and told it to kill and take captive the dragons of this world. Then she just turned greedy and told it to kill all human-speaking four-legged animals on its way.” He turned. “Something tells me you’ve encountered the creature,” He coughed, eyes understanding.
The little dragon sighed wearily and nodded. “Yes. It killed my family and took my brother. It almost killed me, too.” She said softly, her eyes gleaming with unshed tears.
The stallion leaned against her, nickering in sympathy. “Poor girl,” He said under his breath. The stallion stood as a whinny sounded from a ways away. “That’s Anastasia, my mare. I must be going, Adoniay.” He neighed, and turned, beginning to gallop off.
“Wait!” Cried Adoniay, jumping up. “You haven’t ever told me your name.”
The stallion stopped and turned, tail flowing in the wind. “My name is Danza.” He called, then loped away to his mare’s calling, leaving the she-dragon alone in the fading sunset that peered through from clearing clouds.
Chapter Four
Adoniay looked after Danza, her stomach fluttering. She hadn’t eaten anything that day, and hadn’t realized that she had talked with him so long.
She turned to go find food, but lay down instead. She was still weak from her wounds, and no matter how healed they were, it put a great strain on the she-dragon to move around so suddenly.
So she rested her head on her talons and her eyes shut, breathing in the sweet scent of lush grass.
It was considerably dark the next time she opened her eyes, but the night was not cold like she expected. It was quite warm, save for a small sea-breeze, and no moon cast its glittery light upon the earth.
A new moon…Thought Adoniay as she looked up into the sky.
The stars shone like diamonds, twinkling and sparkling as they danced in place on the stage of wispy clouds and a backdrop of black sky, washed with watercolors before being hung up to dry while they danced.
The whole thing was so breathtaking for her, and she didn’t realize that Bliss was sitting beside her for a long time.
When she did, the she-dragon gazed at her, blinking slowly.
Bliss smiled. “You fell asleep for a while.” She said quietly.
Adoniay nodded with a small yawn. “The sky looks so beautiful at night.” She murmured. “I wonder what makes it that way.”
Bliss looked up, grinning. “I don’t know,” She said. “But whatever does will be a great discovery when we find out.”
Adoniay nodded slowly. “It will be.”
* * *
The next morning Adoniay was awoken by the smell of pancakes. Bliss was standing on the other side of the gate, a basket in hand.
“Want some breakfast?” She said, grinning crazily.
Adoniay nodded vigorously as the girl slid under the fence and sat by Adoniay, putting a plate of pancakes down.
“That looks like a lot,” Said Adoniay, sniffing the mountain of bread.
Bliss rolled her eyes. “You have no idea. It took Leaf and I forever.” She laughed. “It’s 81 pancakes!”
The she-dragon smiled as Bliss poured golden syrup all over the pancakes. “Who’s Leaf?” She asked quite suddenly. “I thought it was just you, me, Danza, and Anastasia.”
“Leaf?” Smiled Bliss as she began pouring syrup over her own breakfast. “Leaf is a scalp that can’t heal. She’s quite the sarcastic type.”
Adoniay cocked her head. “Then wouldn’t she be a secret keeper?”
Bliss giggled. “You’d think that. But she’s too disoriented to even keep herself in check, let alone keep every species of being on earth in a big book. Poor thing, she’s such a neat freak, but she can’t keep track of anything.”
The she-dragon paused and gulped down some pancakes, eyes closed in bliss of the sweetness. She turned back to Bliss. “What happened to her?”
Bliss shook her head. “She was stabbed while healing something, mistaken for a dragon. It messed something up and she wasn’t able to heal ever again. That or run straight. The thing’s a living zig-zag.”
Adoniay looked down. “That’s horrible.” She murmured, taking another bite of delicious pancakes.
Bliss nodded. “Yes. So my mother hired her to keep track of me. She doesn’t think I know what’s happening and would be devastated if I did, so she told me to go on a ‘vacation’ here. It’s actually quite nice, but I don’t spend one minute not thinking of you poor creatures.”
Adoniay smiled and rubbed her head against the girl.
She had never met a human before, so she didn’t quite trust Bliss at first. Now she trusted her fully.
Bliss got up, taking the dirty dishes and putting them back in the basket. She grinned at Adoniay. “I don’t suppose you’re still hungry?”
The she-dragon laughed wryly. “Not a bit. I’m very full, thank you.”
Bliss smiled. “I’ll be putting these away. Don’t go anywhere someone might see you,” She warned.
“I won’t,” Said Adoniay with mock sincerity, on talon on her heart and one above her head. “Or God strike me down where I lay.”
Bliss giggled and turned, walking back up the path to the cabin.
Adoniay laughed again as well, finding herself surprisingly happy, and new hope burning within her soul.
I’ll find you Ehrin, She promised. One way or another I will bring you home.
Adoniay looked after Danza, her stomach fluttering. She hadn’t eaten anything that day, and hadn’t realized that she had talked with him so long.
She turned to go find food, but lay down instead. She was still weak from her wounds, and no matter how healed they were, it put a great strain on the she-dragon to move around so suddenly.
So she rested her head on her talons and her eyes shut, breathing in the sweet scent of lush grass.
It was considerably dark the next time she opened her eyes, but the night was not cold like she expected. It was quite warm, save for a small sea-breeze, and no moon cast its glittery light upon the earth.
A new moon…Thought Adoniay as she looked up into the sky.
The stars shone like diamonds, twinkling and sparkling as they danced in place on the stage of wispy clouds and a backdrop of black sky, washed with watercolors before being hung up to dry while they danced.
The whole thing was so breathtaking for her, and she didn’t realize that Bliss was sitting beside her for a long time.
When she did, the she-dragon gazed at her, blinking slowly.
Bliss smiled. “You fell asleep for a while.” She said quietly.
Adoniay nodded with a small yawn. “The sky looks so beautiful at night.” She murmured. “I wonder what makes it that way.”
Bliss looked up, grinning. “I don’t know,” She said. “But whatever does will be a great discovery when we find out.”
Adoniay nodded slowly. “It will be.”
* * *
The next morning Adoniay was awoken by the smell of pancakes. Bliss was standing on the other side of the gate, a basket in hand.
“Want some breakfast?” She said, grinning crazily.
Adoniay nodded vigorously as the girl slid under the fence and sat by Adoniay, putting a plate of pancakes down.
“That looks like a lot,” Said Adoniay, sniffing the mountain of bread.
Bliss rolled her eyes. “You have no idea. It took Leaf and I forever.” She laughed. “It’s 81 pancakes!”
The she-dragon smiled as Bliss poured golden syrup all over the pancakes. “Who’s Leaf?” She asked quite suddenly. “I thought it was just you, me, Danza, and Anastasia.”
“Leaf?” Smiled Bliss as she began pouring syrup over her own breakfast. “Leaf is a scalp that can’t heal. She’s quite the sarcastic type.”
Adoniay cocked her head. “Then wouldn’t she be a secret keeper?”
Bliss giggled. “You’d think that. But she’s too disoriented to even keep herself in check, let alone keep every species of being on earth in a big book. Poor thing, she’s such a neat freak, but she can’t keep track of anything.”
The she-dragon paused and gulped down some pancakes, eyes closed in bliss of the sweetness. She turned back to Bliss. “What happened to her?”
Bliss shook her head. “She was stabbed while healing something, mistaken for a dragon. It messed something up and she wasn’t able to heal ever again. That or run straight. The thing’s a living zig-zag.”
Adoniay looked down. “That’s horrible.” She murmured, taking another bite of delicious pancakes.
Bliss nodded. “Yes. So my mother hired her to keep track of me. She doesn’t think I know what’s happening and would be devastated if I did, so she told me to go on a ‘vacation’ here. It’s actually quite nice, but I don’t spend one minute not thinking of you poor creatures.”
Adoniay smiled and rubbed her head against the girl.
She had never met a human before, so she didn’t quite trust Bliss at first. Now she trusted her fully.
Bliss got up, taking the dirty dishes and putting them back in the basket. She grinned at Adoniay. “I don’t suppose you’re still hungry?”
The she-dragon laughed wryly. “Not a bit. I’m very full, thank you.”
Bliss smiled. “I’ll be putting these away. Don’t go anywhere someone might see you,” She warned.
“I won’t,” Said Adoniay with mock sincerity, on talon on her heart and one above her head. “Or God strike me down where I lay.”
Bliss giggled and turned, walking back up the path to the cabin.
Adoniay laughed again as well, finding herself surprisingly happy, and new hope burning within her soul.
I’ll find you Ehrin, She promised. One way or another I will bring you home.
