Dreams of a Dragon Girl

Becca whirled around. She ached for the peace she could find only in the woods, and if she didn’t get moving, she’d lose her chance.

Avoiding the squeaky board outside the kitchen entry, she crept down the hall and pushed on Grandfa’s door.

He woke mid snore, as if aware she was there, then rolled out of bed. He tilted his head, listening to the world.

“Time for a treasure hunt?” A conspiratorial grin spread across his face.

She loved that he needed no explanation.

“It’s foggy.” She couldn’t contain her glee.

His eyes lit with shared delight as he thrust his healer’s kit into her waiting hands. “Go, I’ll grab the gathering pouch and be right there.”

She barely remembered to avoid the board as she rushed to the kitchen, grabbed her green forest cloak, travel boots, and a walking stick, then slipped through the kitchen door. Grandfa was already behind her. He shut the door, and they dove into the mystical world transformed by the fog.

Silence everywhere. No birdcalls. No wind rustled through newly budding leaves.

Becca inhaled, and tension floated away as she exhaled. The air smelled crisp, wet, earthy, and so very green. Mist clung to her face, a delightful change after the constant drip of rain. She squinted at the muted, morning light trapped inside each tiny droplet. The sun was a blurry glow low in the sky, a faint beacon in a world of gray.

With a contented sigh, Becca slung the healer kit’s strap over her head and settled the pouch against her hip. Grandfa grabbed the walking stick from her, and they strode past the wash line, along the narrow path through the soggy spring grass toward the forest behind their home. They didn’t speak. Only their steps punctuated the silence.

Oldwood Forest was merely a dark smudge in the mist. As they walked closer, branches appeared, deep green in the muted haze. Becca loved how the fog made even the ordinary mysterious.

Becca stepped between the trees and silence enfolded her. The fog played tricks. New pathways appeared randomly, begging to be explored, but she stayed on the trail.

After only half an hour, the sound of cascading water broke the stillness. A small bird scolded her from a branch overhead. Becca laughed, too delighted to feel sorry for startling the sleepy bird.

The fog cleared once they reached the waterfall, the spray of water carving a path through the mist. The waterwheels farther down the river splashed as they turned, providing power to the village. Everything smelled so fresh and alive. Even the water’s energy had a scent, which tickled at Becca’s mind as she tried to find a way to describe it. Crisp. Metallic.

A flutter of fear whispered in her mind. Becca pushed it away. She was happy, and as long as she ignored the occasional unwanted emotion, she didn’t have to deal with it.

“Do you hear that?” Grandfa stopped and peered at the rocks beside the waterfall.

The fear pulsed, tiny and delicate. Becca frowned. The emotion refused to be ignored, and she couldn’t hear anything over the water’s roar.

Her grandfather squatted near the falls’ edge, next to a large rock jutting from the mountainside.

Becca cautiously kneeled beside him.

Grandfa slowly pushed away the branches of a shrub protecting a small pool of water. Resting on the rocks around the pool were three tiny creatures, no bigger than Becca’s longest finger. Their deep gray lizard skin, a perfect match to the rock on which they lay, shimmered with flashes of red, gold, and green.

Becca sucked in her breath. “What are they?” She didn’t want to frighten them.

“Drakelings. I saw a dead one when I was a boy. When I went to university, I researched them. They’re timid and can blend in with their environment, but I don’t remember anything about them having such beautiful wings. Look at those colors.”

As if the creatures understood his awe, their fear shifted to curiosity. Their eyes glowed with moonlight and intelligence.

“Why do you think they’re here now?”

“I don’t know. Strange weather. Maybe they needed the right conditions.” He shrugged, and the branch shifted.

One drakeling blinked. And disappeared.

Becca gasped. “Where did it go?”

Grandfa pointed to the bottom of the pool.

She stared without blinking while the forest stilled around her. Finally, the drakeling shifted, revealing itself.

The other two drakelings lifted their heads. Becca stretched out her senses, feeling safe here to explore. She sensed only curiosity. The drakelings were as curious about her as she was about them.

They unfolded tiny translucent wings, and a rainbow flashed along them.

“Be still,” Grandfa warned as he slowly lowered his hand. A tiny silver tongue reached out and licked the tip of his finger. After a long moment of stillness, the creature climbed onto the offered perch.

It had two sets of wings, one longer than the other. Its skin changed color to match Grandfa’s finger. As the drakeling folded its wings against its back, it rose on its hind legs to investigate Becca.

What did it think of her? She smiled. “I won’t hurt you. I’m just admiring your beautiful wings.”

It tilted its head, as if listening to her, then unfolded its wings and fluttered them. Pride slipped into her mind. She laughed, and it disappeared.

A ripple was the only indication of where it had gone. The other drakeling squeaked at them and dove into the water too. Her laughter had startled the poor thing.

Anger, followed by relief.

At this moment, Becca was glad she could sense their tiny emotions. They helped her understand the drakelings. She was connected to them. It wasn’t at all like the invasive feelings bursting from people.

Grandfa sighed and released the branch that covered their hiding spot.

“That was incredible.” Becca flopped onto her back and closed her eyes, trying to store the image in her brain forever.

Grandfa grunted. “I’ve never seen wings like that.” He shook his head and chuckled. “Wasn’t too sure that little fella would let me hold him. He was brave.”

“How did you hear them?”

Grandfa shrugged. “Don’t really know. Been able to see better and hear better lately. Not a bad thing for someone my age.”

Embarrassment colored his words. She wondered what else had changed.

“Are they tiny dragons?”

He shook his head. “Dragons aren’t truly lizards with wings, or birds, or even drakelings. They’re something else. Their hide is like a lizard, only stronger. They have bones like birds, so they can fly. They can be any color. Everything you can imagine. There was even one who could change color at will, like the drakeling did.”

“Great-Great Jason’s dragon, Zanthor? Right?”

“Yes, Becca.” Grandfa sighed, his eyes wistful. “I wish I could’ve seen them. I wish we lived in that time, and I could share them with you.”

Becca hated it when Grandfa was sad. “But you do share them with me.” She hugged him tightly.