I Dream

 Elder Synaera shifted in her sleep, rumpling the blankets that lined her nest.  She was in the midst of a horrendous dream.  It started with what appeared to be a convocation, except a young dragen stood where Paesha had always stood and two of the elders were blocked from her sight by swirling dark clouds.

 Suddenly a huge rent appeared in the wall as a horde of demons flew by carrying a young dragen.  He might have been a wind dragen but fur could almost be seen along his ears, marking him as one of her own clan.  He screamed in such terror that she tried to intervene.  But he was suddenly by her side, smiling wanly.

 “I’m alright,” he said in a soft voice.  “You need to listen.  We’re very young but we know more than some venerable ones.”

 Then he disappeared and the sky that she could see through the jagged hole across from her turned black, blood red streaks darted through it.  Thousands of people were screaming then, some in anger, some in terror.  Over it all she heard a young voice say, “You thought you could control them?”

 “I didn’t mean for this to happen,” another, almost familiar voice called back. 

 A startled cry not far away drew her attention.  She immediately recognized the person who’d cried out as Elder Gynro.  He struggled, naked, in the grasp of an unfamiliar water dragen.  “No, please, stop,” he moaned as his struggles continued.

 A soft voice, terrified and deeply upset said from beside her, “But… why?  Why would he do this?”  She turned to see a pretty young earth dragen standing beside her.  Tears streamed down her face as she asked, “What should I do?  How can I fight him?”

 Synaera sat up, finally awake.  Tears streamed down her face.  “Paesha,” she whispered.  “Gynro.”  She stood and crossed to the summoning stone.  Her energies swirled around the stone for a moment before the face of her dear friend appeared. 

Soon a Downpour Will be Coming

He’d been hurt by the rejection and pleasantly surprised at the welcome the ice dragens had given him.  He was as different from them as he could be.  He had furry ears and soft feathery wings.  They all had long prehensile tails tipped in a soft tuft of fur.  He ate fruits and vegetables practically in their pure states.  The ice dragens ate nearly all their fruits in the form of preserves and their vegetables mixed into hearty stews.  He had to bundle up warm when it was cold but could happily fly about in weather as warm as the high eighties.  The ice dragens had no real need of coats in the winter months but couldn’t stand the heat of summer.

 However different they were, the ice dragens hadn’t mind.  If anything their differences made him all the more interesting for them.  They were a curious, questioning clan.  They tested the limits of magic and science.  They were the fiercest warriors Denair had ever seen.  He hadn’t been all that surprised to learn of the numbers killed in the catastrophic final battle of the war.  Small as they were, the ice dragens didn’t have an ounce of submission in them.

 “I’ve been researching the sealing spell,” he said finally, changing the subject.  Myro nodded, he’d known as much.  He’d in fact gotten the working notes of the spell from the elder of the light dragens for Denair’s use.  “Something seems to be missing.”  He opened the notebook he always carried and showed it to Myro.  “See how it seems to change gears halfway through a sentence?  I don’t think that the master mage being odd.  I think there’s a page missing.  Perhaps a diagram as well.”

 “I think you’re the first person to notice that in ten years,” Myro said softly.  “You really are remarkable, Denair.  It’s no wonder that my grandfather is so keen to teach you.”

 “Thanks,” Denair said as he pushed hair out of his eyes.  He looked out and smiled.  “I suppose I will stay… for a while longer.  But… since the heat doesn’t bother me and the healers have said I’m well enough.  I think I’ll go for a fly.”

 “Fair winds,” Myro said.  Denair smiled over his shoulder as he spread his broad wings and jumped off the overlook.  Myro watched him soar until he’d rode the winds out of sight.  “He’ll be back.  I hope he’s found a place here.”

 “Me too,” Saira said softly.