Observers, Observed...

"So let me get this straight. He draws you as a dragon? Like, some sort of caricature?"

"Oh no, no, no. That's not it at all, Maggie. He doesn't draw you. He draws your dragon."

"Okay, that's silly. Dragons are fictional, so how can I have one? I'm real."

"Everyone has a dragon. You'll have to come meet him and see what I'm talking about. He's a really special guy. You'll see."

"I dunno, Amy, it sounds kinda psychic to me."

"Yeah, maybe a little. But just because something is psychic doesn't mean it's unimportant."

"If you say so."

"I say so. Trust me."

The hotel convention hall was packed with Klingons and Jedi Knights, anime characters and hobbits. Booths selling all types of fandom paraphernalia lined the walls and sectioned the room into paths like a fantasy labyrinth. The two friends wove their way through the throng with difficulty, dodging fairy wings and plastic swords as they went. At one of the wide double doors they passed out of the main hall and turned down a corridor to a row of private rooms. Stopping before one that was indistinguishable from all the others, the woman in the lead knocked softly. After a moment the door swung open, and the two were ushered inside.

It was a perfectly normal hotel room. Two beds, one bedecked in suitcases and boxes, the other rumpled from the night before. A TV, a bureau, a table, and a couple pseudo-comfy chairs completed the simple furniture. Tacky framed prints of landscapes decorated the walls, and an imposing air conditioner jutted from a window that didn't open. A bathroom and kitchenette by the door rounded out the utterly average setting. Seated in one of the chairs was a very normal-looking man holding a sketchbook.

"Hi," he said, standing up and extending a hand. "I'm Rob. Are you here for a dragon drawing?"

"Absolutely," the first conventioneer said.

"Erm, I guess so," the second one answered.

"It's okay, I don't bite," Rob said. "And neither do the dragons. They're really quite friendly. In fact, mostly they're just curious."

"This is... totally weird."

"I thought so at first, too," Rob said. "I was extremely skeptical when I began doing this. Please, why don't you have a seat and get comfy? And I'm sorry, but I didn't catch your name."

"Um, I'm Maggie."

"Well don't be too freaked out, Maggie, because nothing weird is gonna happen. We're just gonna sit and talk, and while we talk, I'm gonna draw. Does that sound okay?"

"I guess so."

"Excellent. Just come on around here. Would you prefer it if your friend left, or would you rather she stayed?"

"Nawh, Amy can stay."

"Oh, thanks! I love watching these sessions," inserted Amy.

"Just so long as you're comfortable. That's most important for this to work."

"I still don't understand what 'this' is, exactly." They settled into the chairs, and Amy perched cross-legged on one of the beds. Rob picked up his sketchbook and a dark red colored pencil, then paused and looked at Maggie.

"How much did Amy explain to you?"

"Well, only a little. She said you would draw a dragon for me, but..." Maggie shrugged.

"Not just any dragon. I will be drawing your dragon. The dragon that has attached itself to you, the dragon that has watched over you your whole life."