Determination. That was the only thing that was going to get him through this. This was what all the first generations of the new magical species had had to go through. Or at least that was what he was told.

 His fingers shook slightly, and a part of him just wanted to bawl that it wasn’t fair. Why did he have to be the one to figure out, from scratch, how these innate abilities that had been spliced into his DNA when he was still a fetus worked. 

It was their mess, the mess of those stupid scientists. But he was the one who had to deal with it.

He had actually cried once, when it was just him and his Mum alone in his room. He screamed at her and asked her why she and Dad had agreed to let them do this to him. She had cried a bit herself as she held him, and told him that they had hoped that when he did manage to get ahold of his powers, that they would give him a chance to have a better future than his parents could give him on their own.

He breathed in through his nose as Lorrie had taught him. Lorrie was the Cat that had volunteered to help his parents raise him.

Cats themselves didn’t have any magical powers, but they were the first genetically modified species that were created by the scientists. They disagreed fervently with the fact that they, the scientists that is, kept making new species every century or so. But they were determined to protect the kids that came from those experiments, Lorrie said. So they always took them in and raised the first generation themselves.

It was true that even if Lorrie wasn’t able to feel the magic zinging, and at times thundering through his veins in the same way he could, she always managed to say something that would help give him a clue, as to figure out what was going on in his body. Opening his eyes, he looked at the small bowl of water that was sitting on the grass in front of him. Remembering what Lorrie had said to him this morning about how magic was a type of energy, and that energy in the body was always controlled first by one’s breath, and then by one’s heart, he focused on the image of pulling magic in through his nose, and then pumping it out, out, out, towards his fingers.

Surprisingly, he actually felt the zinging sensation intensify and then course down his arms and then zap along his fingers as if he’d just touched a hot wire.

Trying not to lose the feeling in his surprise, and failing to make himself not think about how he’d nearly drowned himself in practice yesterday, he tentatively reached toward the bowl. 

Move! He thought. Bang! Water everywhere, the bowl itself had blown away several feet. He sat down hard as he lost control of his power.

Silly Tall thing. Doing. You. Question.

He just about jumped right back up into the air. Frantically spinning around, he searched for where that strange voice was coming from. 

Stupid Silly Tall Thing. Me. Here. 

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This time an image somehow superimposed itself in his mind as he heard the word “here”. Realizing that he was looking at his own back, he turned to look towards the edge of his back yard that connected to the bank of a river. A scaly and very delicate looking doggish face was staring back at him from between a couple of bushes. It was the most beautiful thing that he had ever seen. Touching his own blue hair that matched the azure hue of the scales running along the entire length of the creature’s body, he realized that it was a water dragon. Looking at its webbed claws at the ends of its six legs, and the fact that it had no wings, he was sure. 

‘Um, I’m practicing my magic.’ He answered, feeling like this whole situation was surreal. Dragons never came near humans. They were notorious for how unwilling they were to be domesticated. That was the whole reason why he had been invented after all.

You. Silly Tall Thing. Barking. Purpose?

He frowned, realizing that the dragon had not understood him. It had not really communicated to him in words as such either. It was more that he got sent a feeling that his brain then translated into a word to help it make sense. And, the scary thing was, it had not used noise to communicate at all. It was talking directly into his mind. 

Alright, alright, alright. Work this out. Focus. He tried to give his thoughts some kind of imaginary direction. Maybe if he just intended hard enough, the dragon would hear him. CAN YOU HEAR ME??

Hurts. Shouting. Stupid. Hearing. Mine. Perfect.

Oh, sorry. He tried again a little bit more tentatively. 

The dragon snorted. Doing. You. Question. 

I need to keep my words simple, he reminded himself. Practicing magic.

Practice? It cocked it’s head as it looked at the fallen bowl. Stupid. Silly Tall Thing. Bad Practice.

He groaned. You don’t need to tell me.

Concern. Mother. Why? Not Teach.

‘Um..’ My mother is not a Tamer. He doubted the dragon would understand what that meant, but he couldn’t think of a better way to put it.

Sure enough. You. Tame What? Having Power. Taming. Connection. None. Question.

‘Ahh…’ Should I tell a dragon to its face that I had dragon DNA spliced into me, all so that humans could finally find a way to control them? How is it that I am even asking myself that question? Will it even understand? The Dragon in question flicked it’s tail impatiently as it waited for his answer. 

What the heck? They want me to tame you. Yeah, it’s not my fault, not my idea. It’s all those stupid government officials. He gulped as he hoped that the dragon wouldn’t just turn tail and leave after hearing him say that.

But something unimaginable happened instead. It laughed in his face! He hadn’t even known that dragons could laugh. It was a high pitched beautiful luting sound. You. Silly Tall Thing. Tame Me? You. Cannot. Do. Simple Thing. Like This. It poked it’s nose smugly in the direction of the upturned bowl, and every single drop of water that he had sent flying earlier swirled up and under the rim of the bowl. He felt the rush of the dragons' magic spin around him until the water ultimately flipped the bowl back over to rest it right side up. Holding the water and sitting there in the middle of the lawn, as though it hadn’t been disturbed in the first place.

He was shocked, but not by the fact that the dragon could do a “simple thing” like that, but from what he had felt when the dragon had done it. Wait, do that again.

The dragon just gave him a look. Please? I have no one else I can ask. Please teach me?

The dragon seemed to contemplate for a while, and then it flicked it’s tail and said, You. Silly Tall Thing. Tame Me. May Not. But. Can. Friend.

Thank you. My name is Alec. He said, setting aside for now, the problem of how to refuse to tame dragons like the government wanted him to.

Name. What?

Um.. I guess it’s a personal label. For your friends to call you.

Understand. Me. Fastwatersong.

‘That’s so cool.’ May I call you Swift Song.

The dragon cocked it’s head questioningly. 

It’s the same general meaning, but it sounds better in human language. 

Alright. You. Alec. May. The dragon turned around to walk towards the river. Come. Show you. Feel. Water. How.