A True Friend

Chapter 12

Andriette's P.O.V
  Opening my eyes, the first thing I saw was Jack's Sliquifier lying in front of us, closing us in the middle of a circle between him and Arrow. The second thing I saw was short, black hair partially falling over my eyes.

  What?

  Moving as little as possible, I looked to my right. Jack had leaned against me with his head on top of mine. He was snoring quietly.

  I thought I was the one that didn't sleep last night?

  Looking up, the sky was slightly darker, signaling the sun was going down. The lazy teenager part of me didn't want to move, but we had things to do, so I politely shoved it into a box and shipped it back to America.

  I slowly shifted away and shook Jack lightly. "Jack, c'mon. We got stuff to do."

  He mumbled incoherently, curling into himself slightly.

  Okay, that's kind of cute.

  I snorted and initiated attempt number two. When attempt two failed, an evil grin came to me along with an idea.

  Arrow was watching Jack through squinted eyes as I approached his head. I whispered my plan to him and he acted.

  (A little too quickly to not be a little suspicious.)

  A little bit of electricity and a shout later, Jack was awake and we both had our journals out.

  Now comes the fun stuff. Reading.

  I had my classmate write "Old Norse Alphabet" on the top of his first page. While he wrote it down, which took a surprising amount of time, I studied my map of the archipelago.

  When he announced that he had it written, I helped him write the Old Norse letters and their English equivalent, including what I called "combo-letters". You know, the "TH" and the "OO", all that.

  I couldn't help but notice how bad his handwriting was. I'm not being rude, it's just the truth. I taught him for a bit-- almost constantly having to catch his attention --until I decided to pop quiz him.

  I called out the letter, or letters, for Jack to write in Old Norse in the sand. He didn't get many-- I think he got, like, two --but that was fine.

  As we were studying, we had a 'dinner' of apples that Jack-- thankfully --brought.

  After reviewing for a few more minutes, we had to stop because it got too dark, which brought us to two new problems: One, we needed a fire. Two, we needed to figure out when to start flying again.

  "Can't dragons breathe fire?" Jack asked. Clueless boy.

  I sighed.

  "Okay, next lesson: Dragons and Classes," I noted. "Our dragons can't. A Skrill's fire type is electric blasts and a Sliquifier's is an acid blast. Arrow might be able to start a fire, though, if we do this right."

  I started walking to the treeline to grab some wood. Once I got a decent amount of kindling, I dropped them in a pile on the sand, pushing them in a tighter pile when they scattered a bit. I turned to Arrow and asked, "Okay, boy. You know what to do?"

  He nodded and backed up a few feet from the wood. I backed up, motioning for Jack and the ocean dragon to do the same.

  Electricity coursed over Arrow's scales and he shot a blast at the wood. It was a small blast compared to what Skrills can do, but it was still powerful. When the flash was gone, there was a small fire flickering on the wood.