Ever wondered how the world worked? Not as a philosopher might conjecture in his armchair while pondering the essences of reality, but how it really worked, cogs and screws and all.

My father used to tell me that the world was a network of energy. Energy exchange happened here and there in a very precise and ordered manner. I asked him, back then, what that meant. He demonstrated the principle but utilising a strange Power diagram. It started with the sketches of a circle. This, he had said, represents everything in the universe. Everything was bounded by this. At the time, I was a very impressed dragonet. How could the world, let alone the universe, be contained in such a simple drawing?

The trick is, he explained. Was that the circle underpinned everything. It was elegant, it was maximal, it was for lack of a better description, beautiful.

The sandbox always started with a circle, he said. Put anything in a square and the corners would weaken the structure. Put anything in squiggles and the variables quickly get out of hand. One niggling thought had wiggled around in the back of my mind.

But isn’t drawing a circle impossible? At least, a perfect one? I had asked. My father waggled a clawed finger in front of me.

Life isn’t perfect, he had replied. And your circle reflects that.

I had a lot to think about that night.

–––––

Spike shuffled his feet beside me. After I had elected to stay silent with only growls, nods and the occasional tail-thump, he gave up trying to have a two-way conversation and lapsed into silence. Perhaps I was too distrustful of this world? It seemed idyllic with fanciful creatures as small dragons, winged unicorns and the such. But I knew that everything had a darker side to it.

There was the monster in that forest, there was a hospital here, and therefore there were the sick and dying. I don’t think there would be world I could walk in, a Utopia so to speak, that would be free from the darker sides bound to our organic souls. I don’t think that would be possible. We can’t escape ourselves.

As I sat on my haunches musing about this Spike started talking about his… problems?

“You saw the look on Twilight’s face, right? She’s not mad at me, is she?”

I looked at him without much comprehension. I thought he was her assistant. Is he dependent on her in some way? S parent/child sort of relationship? I shrugged, which was the best I could do without actually invoking Power to speak.

“I mean,” he continued, clearly emboldened by my attention. “I went out there all alone, which I wasn’t supposed to and I really should have told her about it…”

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Well no wonder, little dragon, you didn’t tell your elders you were off romping around. I’m not sure about these equine-like creatures, but humans seem to have a tendency to protect their young until they were well past the age they could fend for themselves. I frowned. My father told me we were exceptions because dragons were a dying race, clutches were just so rare that the offspring were fawned over. Was I spoiled? I just thought it was a lot of care and attention to learn to survive. The greatest gift my parents could pass on to me.

Spike seemed to take my frown as my answer to his question.

“Yeah, I thought so. I should really apologise to her. Thanks, uhm… I don’t know your name. Well anyway, thank you, you’re really not like the other dragons I’ve met.”

I’ll bet, I thought snidely, then stifled my brief bout of whimsy.

Spike looked at the clouds scattered in the skies, then back at me. He let loose a despondent sigh.

“I wish I could fly,” he muttered, his voice was tinged with the deep tone of longing. “I wish I could just reach out with my claw and touch the sky.”

I softened at that. Don’t tell anyone because I swear on my Ancestors that I will find you and end you if you ever tell anyone else. I’m a sucker for flightless creatures that dream of flying. It just strikes a chord in me that they can’t share in that free experience. I could understand. One day, when I have broken my wing in flight training, I was rooted to the ground for a good month as the delicate bones re-healed. My father had doted on me then, I think I had made Ashadh slightly jealous, but that week I had sunken into a black funk, not being able to even flap my wings on the first week.

I pointed a claw up to the sky and nodded at the young drake. Distracted he followed my claw but only saw sky and clouds.

“What? Oh you mean you would help me fly?”

I’d take you for a ride every now and again, just don’t tell a soul.

“Thank you. I mean flying on Twilight is just not the same, you know? She’s kinda…” He looked around. “Clumsy.”

“Clumsy am I?” We both glanced up to see Twilight land with silent wings. Ah my leathery wings would never be so quiet.

I nodded at her as my estimation of her flying rose up a few notches. Good execution, couldn’t have done better.

Twilight gave me a broad smile, her hooves rattling out a staccato rhythm as she practically danced with joy.

“The mayor was concerned for a while but I assured her you were friendly and you weren't too big as a dragon, so it’s all fine.”

I kept my expression carefully neutral. Those with the blood of the Shen Lung could change sizes of course, nothing major mind you, we can reach the size of a small glider to the small dimensions of a wren. Anything beyond those two points would get painful very fast. The legends tended to exaggerate things a little, grain of rice to mythical mountains was just simply impossible. Also, being bigger also meant bigger wounds. I should really shift to my human form and bandage it up, but since it wasn’t life-threatening it was better to just stay in my draconic form. Besides, dragons heal a bit faster than humans.

“Still,” Twilight continued, heedless of my inner ramblings, “I think you should get your leg checked. It’s not good to trot around with a wound of your leg. Did you get that helping Spike?”

I shook my head. I couldn’t tell them I got shot. Would they even understand? Did they have the same sort of technology that my world had?

Twilight’s eyebrows drew together. Her mouth twisted in what looked like a mild form of exasperation. “Okay,” she finally stated. “But at least allow me to look at it. If you’re worried about going to the hospital, then we can go to my home and get it looked at there. I have a few supplies.”

I nodded my acquiescence. I would be following this person and even if the locals wanted to take me I could always cast an illusion of empty air and just flutter off as a draconic bird. I’d be gone in seconds.

She smiled at me and beckoned me to follow as she spread her wings.

They were awfully nice, though…

Author's Notes:

Though this isn't one of my more popular stories, I actually like to write for this one more than the others. Popular stories gets people talking and people like/hate on plot choices and my writing. With something like this I can cut loose a little and just write what I like. I don't like to be popular, I just want to write something good and put my imaginations on paper. I want people to enjoy my stories more than anything as well.

Bloggy AN is bloggy.

Next Chapter: Crystal castles oh my!

As always, my entrusted readers, thanks for reading!