Dragons' Treasury: Anthology

Exit, Pursued by a Dragon

By: reddwriting

It is my year.

The feeling pools in my chest with a fiery warmth, crackling like flames. After all this time—all these years of schooling, of learning magic, of frustration—it has all come to this moment. It is my year to watch over the dragons for the next 365 days.

"Thrilled" does not even describe it. Elation spreads from my chest to the rest of my body, an elation only magic can bring. It bubbles inside me, and my grin, tattooed on my face, is only one reflection of it. I am ready for this responsibility.

This year, unlike other years, the challenges loom closer than ever. Non-magical dragon hunters are determined to eliminate the dragon species for good, as a means to hinder us, witches, from growing more powerful. They know our bond to the dragons is one that, when severed, will leave a gaping hole in our community.

I will not allow this to happen. Not under my watch. Not that I am now a fully-grown witch.

The journey begins, not on a dark and stormy night, but rather on a day where the sun pulses bright and strong. I whip my cloak around me, my wand secured in its holster at my side, a back slung over my back full of all the food I'd need for the one day journey to the dragon habitat, where I am to relieve the current witch from their yearly duties. I mount my horse Cassiopeia, pat her white head, and then she rears—we're off!

Cassiopeia gallops past trees, clearings, and the like, all while we are under the burning sun. I wipe some sweat from my brow and fling my hand to the side. That is when I notice them. My heart stutters in my chest. The dragon hunters have found me.

On horseback as well, they flank me on either side. I urge Cassiopeia to speed up, which she thankfully does, as though she too senses the danger. We charge ahead of them, but they fall into formation behind me. My wand quivers in its holster, and I put my hand on it as though to calm it. Not yet, I think. Please. Don't hurt me, and I won't have to hurt you.

An arrow surges past my head, nearly nicking my ear. I scowl. So this is how it has to be.

Fine. You chose this.

Yanking my wand out of its holster, I wave it in a circle over my head. The ground splits behind me, and I hear the sounds of yells. When I turn back, no one is hurt, though. Damn it.

"Faster, Cassiopeia," I whisper. "We need to get there even just a little bit before them."

We do, but still, they pursue us. Cassiopeia's exhaustion sets in, but still, she pushes on. I brush the side of her neck, her mane flying into my face. "Good girl," I whisper. "I'm sorry. Thank you." If I babble to her, her energy propels her forward. The dragon hunters behind me, for whatever reason, do not shoot at me again.

At our speed, we are approaching the dragon habitat much quicker than we would have otherwise. I bite my lip, scraping my teeth against my chapped lower lip, pulling the skin back and into my mouth. I swallow. What should I do? I have learned all about dragons, about their magic and our bond, but nothing had prepared me to be ambushed by dragon hunters. And if I lead them to the dragons—

The solution comes to me, but my body quakes at the thought of it. This may be the only way—

I urge Cassiopeia to turn a sharp right. She obliges, whimpering as if she knows. "Don't worry, girl," I murmur. "You will get out of this."

The further we go, the saltier the air turns, as the sun begins its afternoon shine and sheen fest. The sweat drips freely down the back of my neck as Cassiopeia sprints away from the dragon habitat.