Flash Fiction Friday: The Dragon Whisperer’s Path

 

Photo by kazuend on Unsplash

 

    Slobber dropped all over Deyadria’s high cheekbones as the bellow of a roar blew her done-up, box-braids all over the place. Yellow eyes with dark slits glared back at her. A crown of antlers towered above her frame. She raised her sword and shield and set her hair back in order. She stepped forward. The brimstone stench overwhelmed her senses, and she started to think that maybe she was too old to be doing something like this. “What do you want?” rasped the dragon.

Deyadria fought every nerve in her body not to back away. She focused on the swirls that adored her body and bat-like, large wings like a child focusing on the heads of an audience right before a speech. She took a deep breath like someone lifting a stone and held her jaw queenly high. “Be my companion. Please.” 

Simra, the name her mentor used to identify the dragon, huffed. “No.” The dragon turned around, nearly whacking Deyadria with her long, wide tail. Deyadria’s shoulders dropped as she helplessly watched Simra disappear into the darkness.  She slid to her knees, allowing the fear she held in her belly to come out in a long stare at the cave floor. 

After deciding to camp for the night, Deyadria lay in her sleeping bag, holding her hand up to the starry sky where her wedding ring used to sit. She ran through the memory of giving her ex-husband the divorce papers and declaring her desire to experience the world. Before this, she yielded to everyone else’s wishes for her, but going back to school to pursue hero studies was hers, even if she was forty. This was her moment to really define herself. She clenched fingers together to form a fist and nodded to no one in particular. 

The next few days, Deyadria tried different things to appease the dragon. She used every tactic she learned from lectures. One day, she held up the beef slab she brought, but the dragon burnt it to a crisp, almost taking her along. Another day, she tried to pat it because one instructor said dragons loved patting. Deyadria was lucky to have her fingers intact. She tried talking to her, but the dragon roared her silent. She tried commands. She tried spells. She even tried pleading. She finally tried battling her, but Deyadria almost lost her head. She tried to battle her two more times, but only earned more contempt. 

When she woke up the next morning, she decided she might catch some fish because she had run out of sandwiches and bananas. Deyadria walked through the forest and heard the gurgle of the river. She saw a nice spot by the bank to perch herself. She walked a couple of steps before she noticed a giant figure next to her; it was the dragon. She caught a small bass on her claw. She dropped the flopping creature into her slender snout. Simra spotted her and snarled. Deyadria held her hands up in peace. “Just tryna catch some breakfast,” Deyadria remarked. “May I fish alongside you?” 

The dragon huffed, but she nodded curtly and returned to poking fish out the river. Once she saw the dragon was going to leave, she thought about petitioning Simra again, but she paused. “Thank you for allowing me to fish next to you.” The dragon huffed and flew away. 

The next day, Deyadria found the dragon fishing in the river again. She asked the dragon if she could fish next to her. The dragon huffed, said nothing, and continued fishing. She didn’t move away, though. Deyadria thanked her again before the dragon leapt into the sky. 

The next day, Deyadria and Simra fished together. A fish slipped past the dragon and Deyadria caught it. She reeled it in and offered the fish. The dragon stared at her for a moment before nodding. Deyadria tossed the fish and Simra caught it. “You know, I would have never thought you liked fish.” 

The dragon huffed. “Most people don’t.”

Deyadria pursed her lips as a sense of shame creeped into her belly. The dragon flew away. Deyadria decided that she would try and get to know the dragon. The next few days, Deyadria fished with the dragon. Before the dragon would fly away, Deyadria asked her questions. She asked her where she came from, when did she decide the cave in the mountain would be her home, did she have a family, what were dragon families like. Surprisingly, the dragon conversed with her and answered all of her questions. The dragon asked questions too. They fished and talked like two old friends. Deyadria even learned that dragons had their own language. By the fourth day, Simra allowed Deyadria to pat her. 

On the morning of the fifth day, Deyadria explained to the dragon she had to return to the academy to complete her training. Simra huffed. “Would you like a companion, bold and gentle Deyadria?” Deyadria’s eyes widened, and she nodded. Deyadria hoisted herself onto the dragon.  The air at such a height startled Deyadria, but she grew accustomed to it. She had never ridden a dragon before; she couldn’t stop herself from smiling. Once she saw the large, golden gates of the academy, she signaled to Simra to start heading down. The dragon flew downwards and they both landed before the gates. Behind them stood a surprised Zareen and a proud Tashard. Tashard and Deyadria high fived. 

“Now that’s what I’m talking about!” exclaimed Tashard. “I knew you’d figure it out; old man Zareen had so much doubt, but me I know talent when I see it.”

“Suppose it took a gentle approach,” Deyadria said.

Zareen, never quite impressed, followed with, “Well, onto the next lesson. You’re late by the way.” Deyadria nodded to Simra, and she flew back to her home. Deyadria watched her friend disappear into the sky, and then turned back to the academy, ready for her next task.

 

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