Chapter 8 – Lumina

I found myself within the room of the Elf, merely enjoying the time spent lounging on her bed in my Beast-man form.

Looking at her now, it seemed she had mostly gotten over her mishap, and was happy to have my company.

We talked of many things as the days passed us by.

Elves, as she explained, were long-lived beings. The oldest of which believed to be several millennia old.

She also explained they tended to live in the forests, thriving together with the Beast-men, who also lived within the chaotic realm of the wild.

Our conversations were rarely over a minute long, and almost always instigated by my own curious questions.

While I usually sat on her large bed, she was almost always leaning over her desk, scratching symbols, in which I came to learn was the runes of the universal language of Draconia, along a large scrap of parchment.

While basking in her green magic, as she once again was scribbling down various runes, I asked, “I have heard many a names these past few days. Elves, Humans, Beast-men, Dragons, Draconia.” Her gaze shifted from her work as I continued, “But what of yours? What of mine? What of Mother’s?”

The Elf gave a small smile at my query,

“Well it is not my place to divulge neither yours, nor your mother’s name. However I am known as Silvia.”

Silvia, I whispered in my mind, it fits quite well.

“What do you mean they aren’t yours to tell? Are names so important?” I asked.

“To some. If you are so curious about names, perhaps you should go ask your mother.”

Acting upon Silvia’s advice, I quickly rose to my feet and shifted from my Beast-man form to my dragon one, and exited the Elf’s room.

Scampering through the halls, I quickly came upon a large dragon. Her large, blue mass loomed over me, yet I did not coo. As the future queen of our race, I must learn to fear none…or at least appear as such.

In contrast to her threatening demeanour she gently stated, “If you are looking for the queen, she is out flying amongst the clouds, princess.”

After a brief nod of gratitude, I darted back through the corridors and quickly made my way to the cliff face, dodging bows, nods and mutterings of ‘Princess,” as I did so.

Upon reaching the cliff face my eyes scanned the sky, using my keen eyesight I gazed upon the high clouds, searching for any sign of the pure, black hide of my mother.

After a few moments, I noticed the unique bulk that was my mother emerge in the distance, her black, rough form in direct contrast to the white, soft texture of the clouds she sifted between.

I let a developing roar echo through the sky to get her attention, and quickly took flight.

As I approached, I noticed her ruby-eyes were fixed upon me, mirth reflecting in the gaze.

She slowed down considerably to allow me to catch up, leisurely gliding through the air as I made my way towards her.

As I drew closer I slowed my speed, gently sliding in line with her hulking form, joining her as we calmly sifted through the sky.

Opposed to our previous time spent in the air, this was relaxingly peaceful. I was is in no rush to interrupt our time together, content to lazily spend my time beside her.

We flew above, beneath, and between the clouds; soared over, beside and amidst the mountains; we grazed the valley below, dipping our claws in the large rivers, enjoying the feeling of gliding through its murky depths.

We eventually came to a stop beside the beautiful lake at the centre of our natural mountainous city, enjoying the rays of the sun’s warm bathe our scales in light.

I laughed at the sight of Mother’s scales almost completely absorbing the light, while mine reflected it, their white light becoming so radiant they almost blinded me.

Wanting to ask my questions, but unwilling to change from my true form, I merely stayed quiet; enjoying the time spent with my mother in silence.

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After seemingly hours of remaining by her side, she spoke, “My daughter, do you wish to learn how to speak while within the form of a dragon?”

I was taken aback, Sometimes I swear she can read my mind. I thought.

I gave a quick nod at her question. Intent to know why it is so difficult to speak in this form over my other two.

“As you have no doubt noticed, magic plays an important role in the lives of all creatures,” she explained. “It weaves and works its way into all forms of life, working to supplement our lives in all manners of ways.”

What does this have to do with speaking? I ponder.

“Dragons are no different. In fact, it incorporates so strongly within our race, our very instincts merge with the essence of magic.”

Our instincts?

“As large as we are, do you not think it strange that we can soar through the air? Does it not seem impossible that we can fly for not seconds or minutes, but hours?”

Is it? I never really thought about it.

“Magic is entwined into our very being. It is within every scale, every tooth, every wing, and every claw of our race. Without it, dragons would be but dust in the wind.”

My previous drowsy expression turned to one of excitement. Magic is a truly wondrous thing.

“Magic is strong with our race that everything we do has the power of magic. We think with magic, we live with magic, we breathe with magic!”

As if to prove her point she lets a small sigh escape from her mouth, hot breathe caresses the plain dirt as she does so.

My eyes widen as they witness a miracle, the once brown dirt starts springing to light. Herbs pop from beneath the soil, creating a beautiful patch of green in an otherwise large patch of brown dirt.

“Due to this, we must also speak with magic. Our words forming from our core rather than our tongues.” She flicks her gaze intently toward me, “Try, my daughter. Form them within your core, then expel them past your throat, as if you were breathing magic.”

I do as instructed and touch the white mass of my magic. I draw on my knowledge of language within my mind as I form the questions I came to ask.

Moulding my magic into the words I need, I let out a hearty breath, letting the words flow with the air as I exhale, “Mother, what is your name?” The words flow correctly, yet are accompanied by a small growl as they sound.

“Good,” she praises me before answering my question. “My name? An odd question indeed. You should know daughter, we dragons choose our own names when we are ready. Many dragons can go on for an age before they are ready to do so.”

So does that mean I must choose my name? I wonder.

“My name is Umbra, dear child. However, to you I shall always be Mother.” Her red eyes go cold, obviously deadly serious, conveying that her order is not to be denied.

“Can I choose my name now?” I ask, a bitty growl still accompanying my speech.

Mother smiled, “Of course you can. However ensure you pick carefully. For once you choose your name, your magic will never separate from it. You shall be forever branded with your choice.”

After my mother’s warning I stood staring at the lake. Watching the light flicker off my scales I smiled, enjoying the strange patterns that reflected onto the lake’s surface.

I turn to my silent mother and smile, “Lumina. My name will be Lumina.”

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Author Note

So this is my second time trying to post this chapter.

My laptop found itself in the position of almost being smashed into a thousand little pieces, when it randomly decided to shutdown after I pasted the chapter from word, and formatted it properly.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy the chapter and, like always, be sure to post any mistakes you find in my chapter in the comment section. :)