Authors: Kathryn Fogleman
The water began to swirl all around him. He felt something grab the back of his shirt and begin to pull him out. A gigantic talon cut the reed loose from his leg, and he came catapulting out of the water, gasping as he came into the air.
Pharrgon had Keegan by the back of the shirt in his giant ivory teeth and walked toward the mouth of the cave and the waterfall. Keegan held his breath as they both went through the waterfall, but he almost screamed when the falling, icy water washed through his clothes, hair, and all over his skin.
Once past the waterfall, he just dangled from Pharrgon’s mouth with the dragon's hot breath blowing all around him, drying out his hair. He was filled with utter fascination, hanging from a real dragon's mouth but also with a slight bit of trepidation. It was a most uncomfortable predicament to be caught fast in a dragon’s teeth, even though Keegan was certain now that he and this creature were friends.
Pharrgon finally placed Keegan gently on the riverbank then shook the water from his scales. Keegan covered his face as water fell all over him. As soon as the dragon was done shaking, he shook himself and began to wring the water from his clothes.
“The water was not that deep last night,” Keegan noted aloud as he wrung the water from his clothes. He also noticed that his stomach was no longer upset and hot.
“The water was not deep because you took the shallow way around the pool,” Pharrgon said. “However, if you would have veered more toward the middle, you would have done the same thing as you just did now, except that I might not have pulled you out then.”
“I thank you for doing so. However, I was getting ready to pull my dagger out and cut the foul reed,” Keegan replied.
“No, you would have tried but would have been unsuccessful,” the dragon stated gravely. “Only adult dragons can tear away those reeds.”
Keegan wanted to ask why, but the urge to go and see what was left in the village overpowered his curiosity. “It can wait for another time,” he said to himself. He then paused and wondered what made him think that there would be another time? No, he didn’t have the time nor the patience to answer that question. “Let us go,” he said hastily. “Well, that is if you are ready, er, Pharrgon,” he added.
“I am ready,” the dragon stated in his deep, warm voice. There was calmness in his voice but also the sound of a great and fearless warrior ready to charge into battle. Keegan wished that he felt as brave as the dragon sounded. He just prayed that there would be no battle, and he greatly hoped that he would find someone, other than the enemy, alive in his old home. But his gut and heart told him that he would face otherwise.
Chapter 5: Becoming a Dragon's Son
After the mighty creature lowered himself to the ground and stretched out his foreleg, climbing onto the dragon's back was easy. However, once on Pharrgon's back, Keegan wondered how he was going to hang on to the massive beast. His father said that dragons were faster than the mighty racehorses of kings. But horses had long manes for a rider to grasp in hand, and the rider squeezed his legs to remain on the horse. This dragon had no spines to grasp, and his neck was far too thick for Keegan's legs to squeeze.
Keegan began to imagine that they would be flying high in the sky, a mighty gust of wind would come whip him off the dragon's back. Then he would fall, fall, fall all the way to the crushing ground below. At this thought, panic began to set in on Keegan. "How do I hang on? You have no spines! And your neck is much too large for me to hang on with my legs or arms!" Keegan cried. His body began to shake with the thought of falling, so he sank down and gripped Pharrgon's neck scales as tightly as he could with his hands.
Pharrgon looked back at Keegan with a sharp eye. "First, you must never panic. Panic has never helped anyone. Second, I do have spines, just like other dragons. Mine are lying down."
Keegan sat up when he felt the dragon tense under him. A shiver seemed to go down the dragon's spine. Then triangular plates of golden armor began to rise up on his neck. Keegan then saw that plaited armor lay flat even down to the dragon's tail, waiting to be summoned.
"Hold one of my spines," Pharrgon ordered.
Keegan hesitated. The spines looked very sharp, and he was afraid he would cut his hand. He grasped one gently and cringed, then, with a relieved sigh, he grasped it tighter as he realized they were not sharp at all. The dragon smiled at Keegan, then turned his face away, lowered his head, and slowly began to stand. Keegan hunkered down close to the dragon, closed his eyes, and grasped the spine with all of his might. He feared that he might fall off as the dragon stood.
"What are you doing?" Pharrgon asked.
Keegan opened his eyes to see Pharrgon was staring at him. He looked down and was astonished to find that the dragon was standing, and the ground was about twelve feet below him.
"I barely felt you move," he exclaimed, looking at the dragon with wide eyes.
Pharrgon smiled. "I will not fly very fast," he said reassuringly and began walking toward a clearing in the trees, away from the cave. Keegan swayed gently from side to side as the dragon walked. It was a pleasant feeling. It felt as if the dragon hardly moved at all really, but the sound of his heavy footfalls and the swaying of his back made Keegan sure that the dragon was moving at a steady pace.
When Pharrgon came to the clearing in the trees, he looked up and around at the enormous treetops, then crouched back on his haunches, and looked straight heavenward.
Keegan firmed up his hold on the dragon's spine and tightened the muscles in his legs, licking his lips anxiously. If the dragon was going to jump above these tall trees, as Keegan assumed he would, it was going to be a mighty leap. Keegan did not want to fall off before they were even airborne. He leaned forward, closer to the dragon, and squared his shoulders. He tightened every muscle in his body, just as the dragon did.
The dragon sprung, his powerful muscles propelling him into the sky and far past the leafy trees with their waving arms that reached skyward. He unfurled his tremendous golden wings and stretched them out, catching the wind. He glided for a moment, twisting his head all around, taking in his surroundings, before flapping his heavy, leather wings three times. He rose high up into the bright sky then turned toward the north and began flying gracefully toward the White Mountains in the distance. Rather than loud, long flapping strokes that would take more energy, his wings made small, jerking motions that kept them in the air and kept them going at a steady pace.
The sun reflected on the dragon's scales, making him a golden glory in the sky, flying between the curtain of green below and the crystal blue sphere above. The sudden burst of wind from the jump had taken Keegan's breath away, but now he was feeling glorious sitting atop the dragon's back.
The dragon's flying was quite smooth. Flying! It was a wonderful sensation: the feeling of the tight, glossy scales, and the stiff, strong, warm muscles of the dragon under him. The invisible wind whipped and howled past Keggan’s ears and ran long fingers through his hair, while he sat, like a king, between heaven and earth on a steed of gold. Riding a dragon was unreal and beyond thrilling.
Keegan leaned over to the side just a little and looked down past the dragon. He could see the river running through the forest and the waterfall. The morning sun glistened on the blue-gray water, and a small mountain only a few leagues away from the dragon's cave loomed deeper into the forest. He sat up and looked toward the north. He could see smoke. Smoke from his village, but it was far away. It then occurred to Keegan that he had run for many miles into the forest without stopping for rest the day before. It amazed him that his body had endured such stress and accomplished such an amazing feat, but he remembered what he was flying toward, and the thought began to grip him and pull him back into grim reality.
He kept his eyes trained toward the village while hundreds of questions and emotions ran through his mind. Would anyone else be there at the village…alive? What had happened to his mother and Braidden? Had Alia made it to the mountains safely? What about Torry? Had he made it out of the village and into safety? And what about Father's body? Had they fed it to the dogs or had they left it in peace? What would be left of the village? What would he find? What would be left after those monsters had destroyed all that he had loved? How would he, a boy, react when faced with the dead people he had once loved and communed with?
A hot tear came to his right eye as he felt the anger and the hatred rising up within him, but he also felt utter despair, sadness, and guilt eating away at his heart. His chest ached as he tried to hold back the sobs that threatened to rip out of his chest. Pharrgon seemed to sense Keegan's woe and whipped his head around to look at the boy, which slowed his flying speed considerably. Keegan gripped the dragon's spine harder and shook his head. "Don't slow down! Keep going!" he yelled as he made his body tight and rigid against the rushing wind.
The dragon turned his head back to the north and began to fly faster. The trees below them became a near-blur due to their fast pace. The tears came more freely from Keegan's eyes now. They whipped across his cheeks, to his ears, and then flew behind him, their silvery drops catching hold of his hair for a moment before the wind took them away to unknown places. He couldn't bother with them. He had to keep his eyes trained ahead. He had to be prepared. Evil might still be lurking in the village, and he had to be ready to face the cold, silent faces of the dead or the cruel glowers of the evil men.
Keegan tried to push the thought of all the people that he would find dead out of his mind, but the image of his father stuck to his mind like a leach on flesh. He clung to the one hope that his uncle, brother, sister, and mother had escaped safely and that he would see them all again someday. He could not possibly bare the loss of all his family. If he lost them all, what would be left for him to live for?
The warm feeling that Keegan had felt at the dragon's cave began to glow inside of him again, giving him strength, comfort, and consolation. It pushed most of the guilt, blame, and horrid thoughts that burned and ate at him, out of his mind. The warmth made him feel better for a moment. He closed his eyes and imagined the warm embrace of his mother that had always comforted him in hard times. He longed for that embrace, especially since he knew that his father would never again embrace him like that.
He opened his eyes just in time to see a mass of burnt land come into view. His heart plummeted back into despair as he realized what it was. Fire still smoldered in places where strong houses had once been--houses that were now burnt to the ground. The wall that the people had been working on so diligently for many months was now destroyed. The stones scattered. The fields and crops were burnt to ash. A few cows wandered the field around the dead, stiff bodies of other animals and slain humans, while a herd of goats grazed together, further out in the plain.
As Pharrgon neared the edge of the forest, he dropped to tree level. He stretched his wings out and turned them up, which brought him to a halt in the air. His wings made a heavy
whooshing
sound like hard wind as he flapped them to keep airborne. He hovered in one spot and twisted his head left then right, his large golden eyes scanning the plain before him. He searched for any sign of danger that could still be lurking around the desecrated village before passing beyond the safety of the trees.
The stray cattle grouped together and began to gallop away from the village as they became aware of the dragon. The herd of goats stampeded toward the mountains when the cattle began to run toward the east. All was still otherwise, and no other living thing seemed to be lingering in the village.
With a mighty stroke of his wings, Pharrgon swept higher up into the sky and began to circle the burnt ruins below gracefully with outstretched wings. His head continued to twist and turn, watching the land beyond and below him with sharp eyes.
"There does not appear to be any living thing for many miles," the dragon said gravely. He tightened his circles and began to spiral down toward the ground, like a vulture flying in to inspect a dead animal. When his tail almost touched the ground, he pulled himself up and slowly lowered his back feet to the ground, creating a gentle landing for Keegan.
Even though everything was black from fire and there were no buildings, Keegan could see that they had landed in the village square. Pharrgon twisted his head to and fro, sniffing and snorting as he lowered his front feet to the ground. He stood there for what seemed like ages to Keegan before he finally lay down and let Keegan slide off his back and climb down his leg. His cautious gold eyes continued to shift and probe the area around them. His nostrils flared. A light glowed deep inside them, while smoke crawled out and turned into small gray and white clouds before wrapping themselves around his golden horns and disappearing completely.
"There is much death here, and I detect a smell that I have not smelt for many years,” noted Pharrgon as his wide eyes continued to scan the area. Keegan looked at the dragon and noticed that all of his spines were up and stiff. His tail twitched like an upset cat, and the tip of his tail scissored open and shut once, iron sharpening iron.
A shiver ran from Keegan's spine all the way to his toes. He turned away from the agitated dragon to behold the horrid sight of the desecrated village, the place that had once been his home. Not knowing what to do, he slowly began to walk down what was left of the main road running through the village. Tears came to his eyes and a lump filled his throat as he passed countless dead bodies of the villagers. He saw where his house used to stand, and he paused momentarily to pick something up from its ashes. He dusted warm ash off of a rag doll then traced his fingers over what was left of the tattered and burned doll.