A Dragon's Flight

The air is cool against my scales, and I can finally breathe. The hot sun shines down through the morning mist sharp and stabby, its heat welcome on my iridescent wings. I pump them hard once more, shooting straight through a wet cloud then level off. I am above the clouds now and the world below consists of nothing but these rolling white hills and I feel utterly alone. Before that would have scared me, but now all I feel is content. Banking west, I tuck my wings in and coast several miles. The air is cooler this way and acts as an invisible compass that will direct me to my destination. Home, I whisper out loud. I am finally going home. And for that glorious morning, for the first time in a long time, all was well.

The hours pass languidly. The sun stays steady, a shiny orb vigilant and dutiful in the open sky. The horizon’s long straight line never bending and never growing closer. A deep growl from my stomach sounds the ever-present lunch bell within. But I do not risk a stop. At this very moment, even though the vastness of space is all around me, my heart thumps with the sound of the hunt. And as much as I wish it were otherwise, I was not the hunter.

I dip my long neck low through a thin wisp of cloud and see the sparkling blue ocean underneath. For the better part of ten miles in either direction my ears strain for signs of life. Several hawks are cliff diving off a small island to my right, while on my left a dozen or so geese make their annual journey to the southern hemisphere. Everything seems as it should. Life will out, I think. We will always find our way.

I dip down lower and skim the water with my tail. The cool spray tastes salty on my tongue engaging my hunger further. The sea is full of fish, I can see their own scales glimmer within. Their soft white meat beckoning and I imagine their thin bones crunching underneath my sharp teeth as easily as a twig breaking underfoot in a dense forest path. A shot of flame erupts from my mouth. Annoyance brimming. Out of reach, I grumble, because I cannot afford to pause even for a swim. They are coming.

I begrudgingly pull myself higher in the air catching a stronger current of westerly wind. Three days until I’m home and then I can eat all the fish I want. But when a large island startles into view, I realize I have drifted off. A dragon such as I can travel for many days without having to stop for rest. The sun now hangs lower in the sky, but I am happy to report that I am still heading for it. I am still traveling west.

Flapping my golden wings, I try and shake off the vestigial remnants of sleep and calm my beating heart. I scan the growing darkness for movement. The island looms ominously ahead. Its sides are carpeted in dark trees that seem to be sucking the sunlight into its bowels transforming the light into a blackened sludge that oozes out as ink seeps into parchment. Suddenly I feel exposed. I feel as fragile as those fish, brittle and thin, ready for the taking. I, a great and mighty predator reduced to little more than prey, and it does not feel good.

Pumping hard, I race across the black forest, hoping to clear it before the dying light of day. And then it happens. A metal bolt sails through the air missing my left flank by mere inches. I dive toward the trees, desperate to escape the openness of the violet sky. Branches slam into me as I thread my way through the treetops. As much as I try to move my snake-like body around the wood, there just isn’t enough space. I catch a second bolt darting past just as a second branch snaps directly into my eye. I let out a great tumult of fire. I will burn this whole forest down to escape. Dark silhouettes of birds scatter into the air all around. While I wouldn’t make a meal of them, the humans searching desperately for me just might. A flash of red-light streaks into the sky a little way off to my left and even though every instinct inside me is screaming to fly in the opposite direction, I muster up the courage and head straight for it. Let this all end now.

They are already waiting for me when I arrive. In a broken clearing, six human men stand with their backs set against each other forming a slightly oval circle on top of a jagged hill. All six carried dangerous-looking crossbows that were currently scanning the sky for their escaped prisoner. I had no intention of going back.

Moving swiftly, I begin burning a thin ring of fire enclosing the hill, starting a few miles out so they do not see the smoke at first. Night has fully set, and the deep blue hides the ash. I continue this pattern at intervals of a few hundred yards until I hear it. The men have finally noticed the fire and start barking orders at each other. From this height, these humans look so small, and I find myself shameful of all the years I endured their torment. The closer I get, the louder these mice men are.

The whole while I am burning a bullseye into this forest I am thinking. I need to dispatch these men without again getting into range of their deadly human weapons. And then I see it. Through the trees, a pack of jaguars hidden in the brush. I bank low into the wood and release one great flame at the wild cats, herding them as one would sheep; they flee to the clearing.

The men barely registered their presence. The big cats make short work of them and in a few minutes, it's all over. Circling the hill, I watch the jaguars for a few minutes longer.

I was free. I can continue my journey westward. I can make it home. I breathe a silent thank you toward the pack. I have no idea if they will make it out of the bullseye and I would be lying if I said it made a difference to me.

Hate me because of that, but know this. I am a dragon and I will see myself home.