Something woke me. I couldn’t put a claw on it at first, but I sensed a disturbance. Danger might have been a bit too extreme a term—though certainly one that I would have recognized, despite how infrequently I’d felt it—but I smelled something. Breathing in deeply, I realized what it was.
This strange smell was a stinky monkey—or human, as they preferred to be called. The dragon dream had shown me a time when they’d been little more than furry creatures hiding in the trees from their reptilian overlords—the greatest of which were dragons.
I lazily lifted my head. As long as it wasn’t a bunch of adventurers, I should be fine. When my eyes settled on them, I wondered why they were here. Maybe some of these humans claimed ownership of these cows?
There was a right big cluster of them. Several of them rode upon horses—another memory from the dragon dream told me that humans used these creatures to make up for their pitifully slow pace on their own two legs. It was strange to think that such limited creatures now controlled most of the continent.
The ones on horses all wore those metal turtle suits. They even had long sticks of wood tipped with barbs of metal and colorful banners. Many of them held painted scales upon their arms. No, not scales—what was the word? Ah, yes… shields.
All was laid out to my vision. If I chose to focus, I could see even the tiny insects which lived upon these mammals, despite the fact that they stood on the next hill—a good five hundred feet away. Being able to see that distance and more was a requirement for aerial hunters like dragons, but all it did was increase my contempt for these small bi-pedal creatures.
I tried to listen and heard the humans speaking in their squeaky language. Mother had insisted that all of us hatchlings learn what she called common, elven, dwarven, goblin, and orcish—the supposedly essential languages. She had told us we would learn many more languages, if we lived long enough.
The dream made learning a language known by my ancestors the work of a few nights’ sleep, so it was hardly an accomplishment.
One of the humans, one without armor on but holding a stick with three metal tines on the end, was saying, “We’ll pay you the fee you demand. Just get rid of that dragon.”
One of the men in armor, apparently the leader, replied, “You told us that it was a small dragon. That thing is nearly an adult. We would need the aid of a wizard to be sure of bringing it down.”
Another man practically screamed, “We were told that Baer’s Chargers could handle a dragon. There are six of you. Surely, you can drive it off. We don’t care if you kill it. Just make it leave.”
I snorted upon hearing that—as if some puny humans could make me leave somewhere I’d decided to stay. The memory of being chased from my birth cave by five adventurers smacked me back into reality. Perhaps the dragon dream hadn’t taught me all I needed to know. There might be things worth learning about these humans.
I felt my curiosity stir. It ran deep, a rare and different thing from that of most of my kin. And I suddenly felt like it might overwhelm me. I wanted—no, I needed—to know everything there was to know about these humans. Not just these few before me, but all their kind… and perhaps even something of elves, goblins, or even orcs.
I yearned to experience and investigate. Who knew, perhaps the ancestors were wrong and I might even be able to learn something from these other intelligent races… well, maybe not to learn anything about or, heavens forbid, from thieving dwarves. The dragon dream was full of memories about dwarves. The tiny, bearded pests had often attempted to slay my ancestors as they slept. It was always about our hoards.
The bearded ones possessed a lust for shiny metal and sparkling gems nearly as strong as a dragon’s. A dragon’s hoard meant so much more to the dragon than mere baubles, though. One couldn’t expect treacherous dwarves to understand something as honorable as one’s connection to their treasure.
The humans in armor astride their horses were still speaking to one another when one of them finally realized I was awake. Screaming, fidgeting horses, and one farmer running around in a circle while waving his arms in the air—at least until someone hit him over the head—all ensued. My lips peeled back as I presented them with a cheerful smile, with teeth the size of human daggers, if not larger. I wasn’t sure how well humans could see at this distance.
The oddest thought came to mind. I wondered, for just a moment, if I should try talking to them—and not just in the way I might sometimes speak to my food. It was common enough to speak to one’s food, either just before or while I dismembered it. No, I was considering having an actual conversation with them based upon the bizarre idea that they might teach me something. My ancestors were likely rolling over in their graves, but my curiosity drove me.
I chuckled to myself, knowing that none of my clutch mates would ever have considered such a bizarre thing. My mother would have lost her mind at such a proposition. But what did I have to lose?
I stood up and shook myself. It was cool here, even in the bright sun, compared to the desert heat I was used to. And my weight had pressed an indentation into the ground. Moisture had pushed up against me as my weight had compressed the soil, but I didn’t mind the fluid on my scales. Despite generally living in deserts, blue dragons were actually quite prolific when it came to swimming.
We were fastidious clean freaks—to the point of obsessing about it. Not that any of these humans would know that. They only saw the spray of water fly off of me as I shook myself.
In an attempt to appear less-threatening, I walked toward them rather than flying. Dragons may prefer to fly, but I was hardly slow on the ground. None of those humans’ horses would be able to keep up with me, at least not over a short distance.
As I walked forward, they immediately reacted. The ones in soft clothing either started running away or began trembling and wailing. The ones in metal, however, appeared to be made of sterner stuff, although I could smell their fear. Those metal turtle suits must be hot, judging from the quantity and quality of bodily odors they were putting off.
Then I looked closer and saw the sweat upon their brows and the way their faces contorted while trying to shake off their fear. By all the gods, human faces—all flat, and yet squished at the same time—were ugly. Except for the furry mop on their heads, every exposed part of them was... pink. Ugh.
Their noses were little more than buttons on their faces. Not comparable at all to my proud nostrils, which I flared subconsciously. And their mouths? It was a wonder they managed to eat with such tiny gnashers. For the life of me, I couldn’t recall why the numbers of these beings kept increasing over the ages of my ancestor’s recollections.
Apparently, one of the armored men was braver than his fellows—that, or more foolhardy. He lowered his long stick and drove his heels into his horse’s sides. The tiny beast bolted forward, charging at me.
Now that I had been observing them for a bit, my innate ability to detect the relative strength of beings told me that none of these creatures presented me with a serious threat. I almost laughed it off, before remembering the discomfort those tiny wooden slivers caused in my wing. I certainly didn’t want any bigger splinters rammed into me. It was a most unpleasant thought.
It only took seconds for him to close the distance which remained between us after I stopped walking. I resisted the temptation to rear up. The memory of one of my ancestors said that would be a good way to die—something about how they could shove those long sticks into my soft underbelly if I did so. As incredulous as I found that particular dragon dream memory, I wasn’t going to test it.
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A dragon can be crafty and sly, too, when we need be. I waited for him to get within range, before spinning around. Tail sweeps had become one of my favorite tactics when I’d learned to fight with my clutch mates. My success with them was a significant reason that I was still here, and they were not.
My tail was as thick as a man’s thigh at the very end, and wider the closer it got to my hindquarters. When that mass of muscle and scale suddenly whipped around, it devastated the horse’s scrawny legs. The force of it not only took the horse’s legs out from underneath it, but the beast flipped around such that its broken legs stuck straight up in the air and the metal clad moron upon its back was beneath it, when it came back down to the ground.
Judging from the brief screams the man let out, and the pained whinnying from his horse, their landing was quite painful. Brief, I say, for the man, because an awful lot of blood and worse suddenly gushed out between the gaps in his armor when his horse landed on top of him.
Looking down at the pile of animal, metal, and man, I snorted, and left them. He’d be dead soon, and his low moaning might serve to teach the other humans that dragons are not to be trifled with. Surprisingly, the others in armor seemed to take this as a sign that they needed to attack me, as well.
They apparently didn’t understand the most important lesson about surviving an encounter with a dragon. Namely, that they didn’t have to be faster than me, just faster than the guy next to them. Alas, none of them were smart enough to turn tail and run.
These fools were talking about charging me. “Barnes you go first.”
“No, we do it together,” said the other who was holding one of the long sticks with a barbed, metal tip.
Behind those two were two others who held shorter sticks with large, curved blades on the end… well, large by human standards, I imagined. I couldn’t help but wonder how insecure they felt, realizing just how much bigger I was than them. The final metal human moved his horse back behind the others and started digging in a pouch hanging from his waist.
“Ah hah!” he cried out, when he pulled a small glass sphere filled with what looked like finely ground dirt from his pouch. I didn’t pay it much attention, until he started trying to use two little slivers in his hand to make sparks. A string attached to the sphere started hissing and smoking as it caught fire.
How odd. I didn’t know what to make of that. None of my dream memories told me anything about such an object.
At least I was close enough now that they should be able to hear me. I coughed, to clear my throat, and then decided it was a good thing that I hadn’t tasted any of the other humans’ blood. I hoped such forbearance might make me appear less intimidating. At the same time, another part of me wondered why I would want to appear as less than I was. I just felt it was the right way to communicate with these fragile little beings.
“Greetings, little ones.” Even as I said this, I wondered if they were sensitive about their size. Oh well. If they couldn’t handle a little truth, then I didn’t think it would be worth speaking with them.
No sooner had I finished speaking, than the man in the back drew back his arm and threw the small orb over his companions so that it landed on the side of the hill I was on and it rolled down towards me.
“Die, hell spawn!” he screamed.
The absurdity of his words almost caught me flatfooted while I tried to puzzle out why he would accuse me of such a thing. Did he not know that the lesser races owed the fact that their world was not overrun by hell’s minions to us dragons? It wasn’t like the squishies could do much of anything about it, were a horned fiend to appear.
But as much as I wanted to offer up a retort, my mother didn’t lay any stupid eggs—at least none that survived to adulthood. Dragons are crafty, and while I didn’t recognize exactly what that little sphere might be, I knew enough to recognize a trap, or a weapon, when I saw one.
I pushed backwards and up with my legs and spread my wings to take off. Just at that moment, the orb exploded, and I felt my body rocked by the force. It was what I imagined a red’s fiery breath would feel like. Well, maybe not that bad, but it seared my flesh—even through my scales—and I was knocked back by a concussive wave of force.
Because I was already moving backwards, it probably appeared to the humans that the explosion hurled me much further than should have been possible for such a small device. I found myself rolling back over my shoulder and wings as I recovered from the shock and pain.
The two humans in front of me, with their long pointy sticks didn’t wait for me to recover. As soon as I was sent rolling, they charged after me astride their horses. At this point, my highly sensitive hearing came back to haunt me.
The explosion had my ears ringing and left my balance just slightly off. I was still probably up faster than they thought I would be, but it wasn’t fast enough to save me. The first of them drove his stick into me, shattering it against my shoulder. Even though my scales were too tough for it, I felt like one of my scales slipped. Worse, the force of the impact left me open to the other human’s attack.
His stick was driven into the softer scales on my underside. On my mother, even those scales likely would have been enough to stop the impudent human’s weapon, but she was a mature adult whereas I was more like the dragon equivalent of an adolescent. I screeched in pain as I felt the wooden shaft pierce into my chest. It was well away from my heart, but I think it nicked one of my lungs.
That didn’t stop me from reflexively sucking in air and turning my head to breathe sparking death at the two foes who had just ridden past me. My experience with the adventurers earlier had taught me that those turtle suits of armor could strangely protect the humans from electricity, despite their metal composition. It was one of the things I was curious about and that I would have to discover.
But the men weren’t my target.
Both horses were caught within the field of my breath as they tried to loop around behind me. They were scorched and shocked and, just like the cows earlier had been, their muscles locked up with electricity induced spasms. These, however, had been at a full run and had riders on their backs. Well, they had been riders—that is until both men were thrown from their mounts’ backs.
I couldn’t spare a moment to see if they got up as I clawed at the wooden spear inside me. I screamed to the heavens as I pulled it free. Curse these humans. They would die. Slowly, oh so slowly, I pulled the wood from my chest.
In the meantime, the three remaining humans were rushing their horses down at me. The one who had thrown the sphere had a stick with a metal ball on the end while the other two lashed out at my wings with their long bladed sticks.
The first cut in so hard I felt like it might have severed a tendon. I shrieked in rage and flung my wings wide. The attacker on my other side was caught by the force of my wing and flung thirty feet off his horse. I could hear all the air leave his lungs, but I first spun around to go after the one who had cut my wing, now that the wood was removed from my chest.
It pained me to do so, but I tucked both my wings to my sides as I rushed after the horse. The one wing was injured, but if one had to be tucked in, then both did so that I could maintain my balance. In fifteen steps, I had caught up with him.
My tail went rigid and assisted my forward motion as I pounced on my prey. My front claws dug into the horse, practically ripping it apart while my mouth came down over the top of the man’s head. I was careful not to go too far as memories of choking on metal armor were mine through the dragon dream.
That didn’t stop me from biting off his head as easily as a human might bite through a bit of cheese. I spat the head loose and turned again to see the final man in armor was fleeing. He must have finally developed some brains, but it was too late for that.
I felt a power rise up within me and a short laugh went through me. The stress of my day had finally brought me to my awakening. As easily as breathing, I threw out an illusion of myself in front of the fleeing man. His horse reared up, and he was all but unseated. The image had no power at this level, but it was a hereditary ability of blue dragons which I had yet to use.
My magic was now alive within me, and the second great power of dragonkind was mine to wield. Well, at least in its rudimentary form. Other races might study magic to master it; but dragons were magic. The magic welled up within me never to fade again. My birthright was made manifest as the system of the world spoke to me.
It had only now come to me, but I immediately understood how to use it. I felt so powerful as magic coursed through every inch of my being. In future terms, draconic magic might be greater than brute force but generally it would be many centuries before my magic could rival the might of my body.
I launched myself forward, careful to protect my wing, and pounced upon the final armored man. He died with a short scream as my six-inch claws ripped both steel and flesh with equal ease to disembowel him. I would have liked to leave him to die slowly, repenting for his sins against me. But I didn’t want to misjudge these humans again, so I set my foot down upon his head and mercifully ended his suffering.
Then I went from human to human, doing the same till I was sure all the metal clad men were no more. The fatigue which comes at the end of battle weighed on me then, but it was amplified by the impact the awakening had on my system. I was about to close my eyes, when I noticed a small human still standing and trembling atop the hill.