Songs of Drakes and Men
The canopy of the Shroud was illuminated by the lightning that crackled overhead and spread across the clouds as a spiderâs web along green branches. Storms came and went in the deeps of these woods like clockwork. The boughs offered little in the way of shelter from the rain and the water seemed to drip right into each feather, soaking all the way to scaled skin.
Each boom of thunder proved frightening and a reminder of what he had fled. There was no going back, but exhaustion landed him here and now, there was nothing he could do but shiver and cry out in the rain, hoping for an answer that would never come.
Day in and out of warm sun and a gentle breeze, and nights filled with moonlight and stars that shimmered down from the heavens and so the day cycled with not a note sang back to him. He laid amongst the leaves and flowers, tucked close and away from where wandering eyes might come across him. In his tiredness, he closed his golden eyes, dozing away until he heard a soft note, drawing closer until he could nearly hear the breath of the player against his ear.
His words were foreign and for a short time, unknown. He hadnât the energy to move or fight, surrendering to the idea that if he were to die, let it be here amongst the green and peace of a faraway place. Instead of a sword, it was a hand that touched his head, brushing away the leaves that had been caught in his feathered crest.
âA dragon? Here?â
He cracked open one golden eye, looking to the stranger who had interrupted his dozing off. There was no roaring to get him to leave, just a harsh stare. What sort of pointed-ear creature could this be? Questions he couldnât yet ask or answer, but this kind stranger presented before him a collection of snacks from his satchel, nuts and berries and something that looked like a white rock.
âI know this is not what you would eat, but here.â
It didnât look all to appealing, not like the prey he had torn asunder before, but with an empty stomach, almost anything would have been good, even the rocks and grass that he laid on. He munched on what could be a few fruits and something soft and spongey that he could have sworn tasted like grass.
The curious man kept a watch on the drake, âI thought dragons had scales and leather wings. Feathers seems a little out of the ordinary.â His pale hand shifted through the feathers atop his head and took a moment to stand and walk around, finding a tail that swept from side to side, covered in feathers until the spiked end. His attention was caught at the noise belonging to a stomach of a still hungry dragon, âYou are not the strangest thing in these woods, I promise you.â He chuckled, trying to push the rock away from where the beast had been hiding only to be growled at and stopped.
And again, he began to sing as he settled in to rest, missing the man by only a few inches with his tail as it was swung around to coil inwards.
âIt was you.â The red-haired elf nearly shouted, retrieving his flute from his satchel, âIâve been looking for you!â
This mattered little, as he couldnât truly understand, just acknowledge his excitement with a snort and closing of his eyes. It wasnât until the flute began again that his head shot up, making the elf stumble backwards and stop. He wasnât upset, but instead looked rather surprised at this sound, something that mirrored his own singing. This person was not like him â having no scales or feathers, no talons and claws â so why was he singing in response? This drew him from where he was hiding, standing tall and towering over him, head canted to the side until he reached down and plucked him from where he was still fallen on the grass.
He meant no harm. A âplease donât eat meâ was muttered over and over until he was sitting up and a dragonâs face was only a few inches from his own, âO-Oh. Hello.â And it lowered and backed away, curiously looking at him as he got to his feet and cleared his throat, âMy name is Tyllanthus.â Clearly this wasnât going to work. He tapped his foot and patted his chest, âTyllanthus.â
Odd name for a creature that could have been food.
@tiptopturnip
