I dipped my head down to the flowing stream to take a nice long draw of water. The cool, clear liquid felt heavenly down my throat as I gulped it down greedily. I felt more alert and refreshed with every sip. The purple dragon was silent as he studied me drinking but I ignored him and kept to myself. It wasn’t any maliciousness on my part, I just didn’t want to take care of him when I should be planning a method of attack for my return.

At the very least, I needed to get back to my father’s corpse and retrieve the sphere of Lung.

I paused slightly, as a ripple of anxiety and melancholy was made intimate with me. I took a moment to compose myself before padding towards the nearest tree and curling up to take a nap.

The small purple dragon decided to make himself a nuisance just as I was falling asleep.

“Hey,” he called out to me, snapping me out of a pleasant fog of drowsiness. I growled slightly but he didn’t seem to take the hint.

“So, uhm, I’ve told you my name. Why don’t you tell me yours?” he pushed as one of my armoured claws gouged the ground in annoyance. I eyed him stonily as he sheepishly placed one of his clawed hands behind his head.

“It’s okay, I guess, you don’t have to tell your name,” he said quickly as I let loose another particularly menacing growl at his persistence.

I was frustrated to find him sitting down beside me. My tail lashed once before I could still it. Spike looked at my tail warily but seeing as I didn’t dismember him on the spot, which I was tempted to do, he gradually relaxed.

“You know,” he continued as I sent a prayer to the Ancestors listening to leave me alone.

“I’m actually lost,” he admitted as I let loose a grunt.

Figures the little thing would get lost so easily. I hear a soft crack at the edges of my hearing, I perk up casting my hearing around us as I tried to pinpoint the noise. Could be nothing, could be something. The forest was silent. I frowned. It was too silent.

The inane dragon started talking again.

“That’s kind of why I wanted to tag along you seem friendly– urk–” he stopped when I pinched his mouth closed with a taloned hand and gazed into his eyes intensely.

I very slowly and deliberately released his snout and then pointed to the last known location of the soft snap I had heard earlier. The small dragon seemed to finally understand and I let loose a quiet breath of relief as he kept quiet and stared at the bushes.

Suddenly a piercing roar echoed through the woods.

For a moment my heart froze as the spine-chilling roar filled my ears but I knew predators only gave voice to their discontentment when challenging intruders. It didn’t want to eat us at least, but it was still dangerous. From the sound of its voice it was also quite large so the best course of action would be to retreat slowly. Hopefully, I could cast an illusion of empty air if I had time.

Thinking this, I retreated slowly but groaned as the purple dragon stayed rooted to the spot, still staring at the bushes.

With a snarled draconic oath, I swept the dragon up onto my back, hoping he would be smart enough to grab my neck and not my spines as I flattened them. I felt him grip me desperately. I bounded out to the side just as a large object smashed into the tree we were just under a moment ago, a thunderous crash echoing behind us.

I didn’t bother to look back but a gasp from my passenger told me that the monstrosity chasing us was not far behind. My left foreleg was burning with pain and I hissed as the pressure tore at the wound. I don’t think I could last long in this chase. I scanned around for something, anything that could help. I cursed myself for not scribing any combat spells onto my scales, a few strokes and I could have dealt with whatever it is, or given us enough time to escape. As it were, luck was on our side and I spotted a rickety bridge.

Instead of pounding across the bridge, which looked liable to fail anyway, I headed away from it, moving to the edge of the wide gulf that the bridge spanned. I ignored the dissenting reply from the dragon on my back as I leapt into the ravine. A furious roar behind us confirmed the beast’s frustration as I avoided narrow crags and rocky outcroppings in free fall.

The dragon’s grip tightened on my sides painfully but I admired that he didn’t make a sound. With a dramatic unfurling, my wings snapped out to whip us back from fall to ascent. I chortled mirthfully as a surprised yelp from the diminutive dragon made its way to my ears.

I glided, looking for a stable ledge to rest on within the ravine. Judging by the delighted giggle on my back it seems this dragon enjoyed flying almost as much as I did. I banked to the side, catching an updraft, as my instincts informed me, and we drifted along with myself giving a scrutinising gaze at the scenery underneath.

I would be lying if I said I didn’t appreciate the beauty of the landscape. I took a moment to admire the sweeping angles of the cliffs, the rushing water below and the sapphire-blue sky above. Flying always made me happy, a sentiment I shared with my father. He says it stemmed from my Shen Lung side, or storm-dragon aspect, which craved the ride of storms and the sizzling hiss of lightning that accompanied one of nature’s wildest phenomenons.

I liked to think that flying was something most, if not all, creatures could appreciate. Some in more relative comfort of planes or balloons, others in more direct gliding apparatus. If one had wings, one would never stop flying, never stop craving the soothing caress of the winds, the playful glow of the sun, the rush of speed, the ragged pulsing heartbeat of death and defiance within our graceful dance of currents and pealing majesty that were the skies around us. That we were the skies.

Forgive me. I get a little poetic about my passions.

It was not too long before I spotted a suitable ledge in the ravine and the little dragon hopped off my back, babbling about how ‘cool’ it was and how he really wanted to try again. Usually I would be annoyed at the little thing, but right now I was in a forgiving mood. I understood any creature’s, let alone a dragon’s passion to fly. Noticing with a little surprise, my gaze was then drawn to his back, and I noticed sadly that he had no wings. Whether they were yet to grow in or he would never have them, it still made me feel a measure of pity for him.

My father once told me that the Shen Lung didn’t have wings, for what need had one for wings when the very winds around them were an extension of themselves? Perhaps he was like that, a dragon that could fly without wings. I was a crossbreed between Western dragons and the Eastern dragons, a life shaped from Power. A relic from a war we were so desperately losing. I still held onto the hope that our kind would persevere, but I knew that even if my kind recovered, I was the last of my Line. There would be no redemption for this. If there were any to be had anyway.

I heard a scratching to the side of me and I hissed in shock when the foolish dragon had decided to peer inquisitively off the side of the ledge. The drop was a lot shorter than the initial height of the ravine but for a wingless drake like him, the fall would almost certainly mean death. I darted forward quickly and pushed him back with a claw, giving him a glare that could melt steel. The dragon looked a little miffed but he stepped back and kept away from the edge. A nauseating mix of emotions swirled within me, why was I so protective of such a foolish little dragon?

The winds blowing through the gorge jangled my mane of steel ribbons giving rise to a soft tinkling sound. The noise reminded me of a time when my family had visited a small, picturesque meadow, where we sat on the vivid green grass and let the soft wind blow through our manes giving rise to a unique, melodious song. I clamped down on a sudden bout of loathing. How dare they take that away from me? How–

I gritted my teeth as my vision blurred. I blinked them away quickly. Smouldering anger gave way to ashes that left a bitter taste in my mouth. Glancing sideways, I realised I had an attentive audience member and I chided myself on being so weak.

The drake padded up to me with pitying, pitying eyes.

He gave me a gentle pat on my shoulder. For a moment I gave in slightly, but then I remembered myself and shied away, angry at myself for desiring pity. What would father say?

I gnashed my teeth, frustrated.

Don’t think of that now, I thought to myself angrily. Just focus on survival.

I knew my best bet was to have this dragon direct me to his home, but I didn’t feel like asking him. Besides, with my foreleg I couldn’t make a climb to save my life and with his additional weight I wouldn’t be able to climb to a safe altitude. We were going to have to camp here tonight, on this ledge. The dragon kept looking nervously at the setting sun, I think there could be possible problems to staying in this ravine at night.

I tried to communicate to him that we would be safe here, I mean, what could be in the ravine? He seemed to calm down after I pointed to myself and gestured with a thumbs up. He apparently knew what that meant because he gave one back to me. I was pleasantly surprised that it had worked. I was glad, because the next thing I was going to try was a pat on his head and I really didn’t want to do that.

The ledge had a very small overhang that we could seek shelter under, which was a good thing because I didn’t want to scout any further for other ledges. I used an old trick my father had taught me and expelled some of the burning in the back of my throat as an azure flame on the rock around us. Very soon the rock began to glow a warm red and we were both huddled around the toasty warmth of dragon-heated stone.

Several times in the intervening silence, the light purple drake would try and strike up a conversation with me. Though I hadn’t given him an indication I could, he seemed convinced I could talk without a translator. I didn’t want to give him a glimpse of my proficiency in Power because father had told me to never reveal to full extent of my skill set to anyone. Unless they were someone I trusted with my life and sorry, but this dragon named Spike was not currently on my list.

Even though I hadn’t replied or since acknowledged his attempts to communicate with me, Spike decided to keep talking anyway and after a while I realised that he was telling me a story.

Intrigued, I listened in.

“ –Twilight and I went to the Crystal Empire, you wouldn’t believe it but the whole place was made of crystals!” he narrated and chuckled at my incredulous expression. “I know right?” he continued, his claws waving excitedly. “The whole place was almost too bright to even keep my eyes on and everything was HUGE!”

I coiled up, listening to his enthusiastic retelling of the Crystal Empire and how he was able to save it from complete destruction.

I take it back. Maybe this dragon had a bit of a spine to him after all.

My mind started to wander as he moved onto another tale where he was helping out at some sporting event. It seemed like his friends were part of a pretty advanced race…

I yawned.

He had nice emerald eyes…

Author's Notes:

I actually have nothing to say. Man I need some more creativity juices.