The Ghost of A Dragon's Touch

Tooth and Claw

Monsters lurk beneath the earth. Some you see, others you imagine. Noises cross so deep within you that you see things that aren't ever there. Monsters, creatures, beings of Dark, each crawl just behind you as your light is consumed. Blood leaks down the cavern walls into slick pools of crimson. Darkness creeps closer and closer as your torch runs out of fuel. Your breathing becomes heavy, and your pulse quick. The sounds are driving ever closer, making it hard to concentrate that there's nothing there. You shudder as your legs itch to run. But they're already upon you, there's no escape now. And as you feel their claws sinking into your skin, you wonder why you ever came here...

---

Ghost woke to the sound of himself screaming, his heart hammering at his ribcage. He glanced around, the fire smoldering in a pile of hot white ash. He slowed his breathing and attempted to calm himself, images of blood, gore, and creatures without shape flashing before his eyes. What was that dream? He closed his eyes for a second, his surroundings turning to blood and monsters. He quickly opened them.

Fyjoor was gone, leaving a note inscribed on a piece of bark beside Ghost's head. He picked it up.

'Moved camp and left you a few supplies. Good luck, friend. -Fyjoor the Kind'

Ghost nodded and tossed the piece into the fire, glancing about for the supply bag. He spotted it behind a log and shouldered it.

---

Ghost had followed the river until about mid-day, stopping only to ask the carp one last time why it was following him. That little fish had given him trouble all morning; splashing him while he filled his waterskin, making noises as a troupe of soldiers passed, and constantly bubbling and splashing. Finally, he had enough.

Ghost tramped over to the river and snatched the fish by its tail. He found a burdock leaf and filled it with water, tying it into a pouch big enough for the carp. He plopped it inside and tied it shut.

"Maybe now, you'll learn to be quiet." Ghost retorted, finding a tree and stripping off a piece of bark to make a rope. He thatched it to his bag and set off, making sure it didn't spill.

A few hours later, he heard a sad bubbling from the pouch.

"It's no use, fish. If you don't behave, I'll keep you in there."

"I would let me out, if I were you."

Ghost stopped walking.

"Release me, human sorcerer..." there was a sharp tone to the speaker's voice, making Ghost flinch.

"And if I don't? What will you do then?"

A low growl was heard, echoing through the trees. Ghost swallowed, slowly unshouldering the bag. He set it down and stepped back. It gave a shudder, and exploded into a golden body of scales and mane. Ghost scrambled backwards, tripping and falling so he had to scoot away.

The dragon flew high and crashed with a deafening roar, landing with its claws in the dirt. Ghost turned pale under his face paint, staring up at the massive creature. It glared down at him with a burning rage to kill, but it didn't make a move to do so.

"Do you know who I am, sorcerer??" It asked it a growling tone.

Ghost shook his head, he'd only heard legends of dragons. And now, as one stood before him, he was terrified it might just kill him.

The dragon snorted in irritation, laying with its massive paws crossed just above the wrists. It shook out its golden mane in frustration, making Ghost flinch. He knew to respect dragons of any kind, whether fish or high-rule.

"I am Gyrool. Dragon of the rivers."

Ghost nodded in both fear and awe. He never thought he'd encounter a dragon. But now, as he stood before the creature, he realized how small he was in the world.

"Well? What name do you possess, sorcerer?" Gyrool looked down at him in a patient stare.

Ghost hesitated, "I-I am known as Ghost. And I'm no sorcerer, Gyrool..."

The dragon scoffed with a taunting smile, "Not a sorcerer? Ha! You're a sorcerer if I've ever seen one. My friend, you possess the green Fire, yes?"

Ghost nodded, he knew little about his ability, but it was powerful what ever it was.

"Then you are a sorcerer of Fire. Now," it rose a claw, "Don't deny it. You are also the son of-"

"Yes, I am. I'd prefer it if you didn't speak his name."

The dragon gave him a look of slaughter, making Ghost shut his mouth before he said more.

"If you wish to live, I'd watch your tone..." Gyrool gave an earth-shaking growl, the sound reverberating through the forest.

Ghost swallowed the lump of regret in his throat, averting his gaze. Gyrool huffed and turned away, moving toward the river where he'd come from.

"Where are you going?"

The dragon didn't turn its head, "Back where I came from. Oh, here. This is from a friend of mine." The dragon tossed something into the air, it glittering like silver. Ghost ran forward to catch it, falling flat on the soft grass. He opened his hands, revealing a small golden wing on a chain.

"Thank yo-" he looked up, the dragon gone. He stood and dusted himself off, grabbing his pack and taking off in the direction he was originally heading. So much for dragons being kind creatures.