A Dragon's Theft

The unnamed forest, inhabited by many hidden creatures and creations, usually practiced silence. It was purposeful, as silence came with many advantages for predator and prey, but it was also not, as silence usually came over ones that felt they had no reason to be present. Today, though, as the sun’s rays tried to reach through the treetops, tried to lighten more of the forest than just the dark dim it usually held, something disrupted that silence. It wasn’t a noise that caused it. No, it was space being taken, occupied. Something entered and did not leave, which was louder than the soft, slow footsteps that entered.

The hidden ones noticed, but only one decided to see what took that space.

The being lifted his body from the ground, tearing vines and roots, pulling out adolescent forest growth, and taking the ground and dirt and time with him as a thick coat. The creature stretched his legs and long jaw, causing thick and thin cracks. One crack traveled to his front horns, and something within that crack glimmered.

The dragon, as he stepped forward, asked a question to both himself and the echo in his mind.

“Why do I now venture out? Has boredom overtaken my indifference?”

Not alone, Ambrose, answered the echo.

It didn’t take long to find the filled space. All the dragon had to do was walk down the side of the forest closest to the edge. Closest to civilization miles and miles out that held too many unhidden things, too many that room for anything else would be too much and too bloody. This was the closest exit out of the forest, for if the dragon went any other way, he would either find a mountain’s dark end, filled with void-like caves, or he would see a blockade of endless water, or if he walked far enough, he would be Nowhere in the forest, and the only things that would be able to fill any space would be births, though that could not happen with the hidden ones.

Thankfully, because of who he was, whichever way he went, he was left alone because who would ever try to cross paths with a being who could triumph all?

When he saw what filled the space, he paused and watched behind thick moss-covered trees that grew small, rose-colored, glowing mushrooms.

“Of course,” thought Ambrose.

What he saw was quite disappointing. It was not a curious adventurer nor a lost one. This was not one who wanted to die or one that wanted to hide. It filled such a small space…even though it did feel as if it took up so much more…. The dragon watched between the trees, watched as an unwanted one sat on the ground, looking out at the direction she must have entered from. The child made no noise. No cries. The little girl only stared as she held onto a doll made of sticks and string.

Again, there was a light glimmer in the crack between his horns. A glimmer of a stolen pendant. There were two light pulses. Memory. Stillness.

Even though he was disappointed, he kept watching the girl, wondering when she would start to cry. When the realization would finally set in that whoever dropped her off in this forest was gone. Gone. That they did not want her to have a chance, as Ambrose saw no food or water near her or attached to her black dress.

“Oh.” Ambrose slightly cocked his head. “That dress has golden threading. She has untattered shoes too.” The dragon smirked. “Well, how cruel. But that is life. That is human.” He turned to walk away, believing he had figured out the story, but there was an echo, light and crumbling.

Ambrose.

The dragon barred its sharp teeth. “No.”

She is alone.

“That means nothing.”

Alone.

Ambrose scoffed. “She is just a little girl. Thrown out because she was either not good enough or bears an unwanted secret in a kingdom that couldn’t hide her lineage. She isn’t the first and won’t be the–”

Ambrose’s mind tingled. It was like a feather barely brushing over the inside of his skull.

He looked at the girl.

And exhaled a shocked and amused laugh. “I see,” Ambrose thought, “but of course it would be a mage.”

The little girl was smiling, watching her doll float in the air, dancing to an unheard tune. Comforting herself. For a moment, in a flash of thought, he wondered if this was how the story started for him too. A simple moment of joy.

But joy could not last when surrounded by possibilities.

Rustling and murmurs caressed the trees. The girl looked up towards it, opposite of Ambrose. Something shimmered on the bark. A tendril of a glistening, sparkling substance pushed off from it, turning into a slender hand holding out for someone else’s.

“Mommy?” the little girl squeaked.

A pause of hesitation before the little girl stood up and walked to it.

The doll dropped to the ground.

Small steps and glances back to her entranceway made Ambrose wonder if her mage blood spoke or warned. “Whatever she is seeing through her eyes must be a strong resemblance, but she must be able to see wrongness too.”

“Mommy?” She called again.

Another murmur, and the girl quickened her pace to it. She almost went past the shimmering bark, into deeper shadows, but stopped and gasped, “Oh no, Elise!” She turned, ran back to her doll, snatched it up from the ground and gave it a tight embrace before following her new guide.

“Elise,” Ambrose grumbled. “A pretty name–for a doll made of sticks.”

Curiosity and annoyance drove him to follow. He slithered through the forest, wondering if this was some cruel joke from the fates to let him see once more the string that connects their bodies and blood. But it wasn’t the unhidden creatures she was following. They would not dare create a creature like himself.

Elise.

“Yes, I will call her that.”

Who mimicked Elise’s mother? He could think of a few beings: a ghost that can mimic voices, a demon who tugs on desires, a warlock taken over by his patron, or is it the Fae–don’t tell them your name.

It didn’t take long for Ambrose to figure it out; as he walked parallel to the girl, he could see that the shimmering trails were the Waters and the murmurs it spoke, a soft language that no one knew.

Hungry.

“They are always hungry. They must have sensed her coming closer long before she stepped foot here. They saw their chance. But they are weak if away from the main source, so they must lure.”

He saw the trails of glittering water slithering on the ground, trees, and rocks. “So, she follows to her doom.” Though he didn’t see any figures that looked motherly…well, his idea of motherly. Ambrose’s only true look at anyone motherly was his own, and that look was upon a corpse. The illusion must be entirely in her little mind.

Needs someone.

The dragon rolled his eyes.

Ambrose watched the girl walk forward. For someone so small, she was quite coordinated. Able to dodge and dunk and step over everything in her path while clutching at that doll of sticks. He pictured the girl playing outside behind some castle from daybreak to night. Away from the ones that threw her out. Alone. She knew her way around the earth; at least, at the moment, she had that.

“Your mother…I wonder if she was the one who really left you here,” Ambrose grumbled. “Whoever it was, did they truly not want you? Did she not want to deal with the blood you possess? Or maybe, somehow, you are more like me.…”

Yes, like you.

“You see, Elise, little girl, I also had a mother once. She was kind-hearted.” Ambrose moved his head, avoiding branches that extended like long old fingers trying to snatch his hidden pendant. “That is what I know. That is all I know.”

Ambrose went through a cluster of trees that grew and intertwined with each other. His body was large, about eight feet tall, and a width to accommodate the height; Ambrose was still growing, but he’s nimble, more so than other dragons.

The leaves on the conjoined trees, plenty but weak and gray, covered him. As he walked forward, the leaves gently brushed over his body like a long veil.

Smoke trails escaped his mouth. “I saw her only once. It was her death. When I was born.”

Through his claws, he could sense a light vibration from the forest.

Roots beneath the ground rose on Elise’s path, and she tripped. The trails of water pushed off the objects they traveled over and turned to tendrils again. They grabbed her shoulders, picked her up, and quickly retracted back to the earth. The roots that tripped her shriveled and broke apart. The vibrations stopped. Elise continued following.

Danger. Others noticed.

“She will be fine until she arrives. Water is much more enticing than anything here.”

After thirty minutes, the dragon knew where she was heading, knew what hidden, small clearing she would have to go through. A place that the forest hadn’t closed off because the Waters did not let it. Otherwise, she would not be able to leave, as things only enter here.

As Ambrose walked, his mind wandered in two directions. One was the blurry yet traumatic memories of his birth. The other was the reasoning for this event, the reason it was a mage. Why did he follow? Did he see the girl’s future, mage blood spilling to create and destroy? But it was the Waters that had decided to claim her, so why did he even go this far? Obviously, Death was the end–and Ambrose would quite like to see them, but if the strings tie the girl and him together? What then?

Small rocks from a nearby bush rolled in front of Elise, and she tripped again.

Ambrose.

“Annoying how gentle they are. If they wanted, they could snatch her up in less than half a breath, but the Waters scare them. The forest bows unwillingly.”

Make sure.

“I will do no such thing,” The dragon growled, smoke escaping through his sharp teeth.

The water tendrils picked her up again. They then grabbed the rocks and threw them back into the bushes they came from.

Elise continued walking.

“She’s persistent and without a single teardrop. Strange. Does she believe, with all her heart, that what she is following will lead her to safety?”

No.

“Hm, hope then. How human.”

And dragon.

Ambrose growled.

The “exit” was through a wall made of thick vines. Within that wall was a small round opening that allowed bright sunlight to shine through, which possibly made this part of the forest the most illuminated. And with that illumination, it was the most beautiful in the area. Wild flowers grew here, safe and normal, their seeds carried here by wind and curious bodies. Moss grew thick, and leaves colored rich. The grass soft, a ready bed. But one wouldn’t find normal creatures in this small haven because it still had a distinct smell of wrongness. Not even a wandering ladybug would dare land.

Ambrose was born on a similar bed of grass outside of the forest, far and very elsewhere. Or rather, his mother laid on it while he was being birthed. He didn’t remember how it smelled because what took over it was blood and burning.

The vines around the opening were intricate, almost looking to be made purposely in a specific pattern. A spell, perhaps? As the girl got closer, the water retracted and soaked itself back into the earth, still watching. Elise looked around, clutching her doll. Ambrose could guess her thoughts.

“Yes, it looks safer out there, doesn’t it? But now you are so far away.”

Illusions.

“Yes, but maybe her mage blood can sense it. That is why she hesitates.”

The intricately patterned vines expanded, allowing Elise an easier passage through.

Elise’s eyes widened, able to now see more of what was outside. She walked up to the opening, grabbed onto some of the vines, and crawled out.

And she was gone.

The empty space once again empty.

The dragon watched for only a moment longer before turning around.

Ambrose.

“What?” he spat.

Follow.

He bared his teeth. Thin smoke trailing out quicker. “Why?”

To the end.

The end. Almost now, so close.

“The end is death. She should be grateful her blood has nothing to do with her end.”

But if Ambrose did follow, would the end take its steps further away? Or would it run off from his near perfect-sight? Maybe not–Death is close and comes from all sides, closing in, but which one?

His mother’s corpse showed itself in his mind. The large hole in her chest, bloody but beautiful. Yes, he had not seen Death that day, for when Ambrose took a breath, Death had already left.

If he did not interfere, just maybe this would satisfy his curiosity.

“I shall see if Death will come.”

Liar.

Ambrose walked to the opening. He stood there and looked down at the flowers as the sun shone on his body, covered in dirt and forest growth. It had been a while since he felt this grass under his claws, and saw flowers the colors of dawn. He looked straight at the opening, letting the light hit his face, revealing cat-like eyes in a galaxy full of stars.

He stepped out, vines scratching against him, and landed on thick white sand. His eyes narrowed on the girl who was much further than he expected, sitting on the sand watching the calm ocean waves.

On the long, almost endless edges of the forest were rocks stacked high and low, covered with the forest growth. It was as if, a long time ago, someone or something tried to create a barrier. But as the forest covered those rocks with its being, it did not dare touch the sand; the forest knew where its borders ended. Where its growth had to stop.

Ambrose saw a pile of rocks that were high enough to hide him, so he walked quickly to those rocks and climbed up. Compared to the ocean, compared to the forest and sand, and even himself, the child looked so very small. So small he wondered how she was not crushed by just living in this world with all the things it owns. Did he look like this all those years ago?

Elise stared at the water. He wondered if this was the first time the child had seen such a sight. Did the vastness, the look of never-ending overcome her? Or, as Ambrose stared at the edge of the water, was it the paralyzing feeling of realizing that someone or something was watching and wanting? While you are all alone.…

Alone.

And how could she not notice the unseen eyes? Her blood, her body would be able to sense the creatures that glitter and rot in the Waters. Yes, it would be a violent death, and depending on what it wants, her eyes might open right after, a new less than half-life. But in Ambrose’s eyes, it was the quickest end…and her mage blood would not be used.

The pendant in-between his horns pulsed again.

Yes, that would be kind-hearted, he thought.

Elise turned her head towards the forest, clutching her doll so tight that Ambrose wondered how the stick figure did not snap.

The girl’s face twitched.

“Yes,” the dragon thought, “to go back would feel safer, but that would be a lie, and you can sense that too. To go back into the forest, with hope pushing your feet, telling you that just maybe you will be found again by the one that left you, or at least by someone that looks like you.”

Ambrose snarled. “The things in the forest would play with you. They see you as a thing. They will watch and laugh as they see you waiting and feel pleasure at your useless hope. You will starve. You will not die quickly. And even if your body decomposes, some have the power to keep your mind.”

A creeping and twinkling appeared at the edge of the water.

…Fingers.

Elise snapped her head in the opposite direction, towards the ongoing, un-walked path away from the forest, from civilization, towards the unknown.

She quickly looked away.

“You’re right, Elise. That way holds everything. How long can you walk from the known? To forward. The list of possibilities that way are endless…as well as the monsters.”

Ambrose wondered how this short story would end. Elise the unwanted girl who died to the hungry and sinister. Elise the child who wandered and fell and broke her little head. Elise the human who starved. Elise the mage who avoided birth and death.

Elise hugged herself, her little body getting smaller. The doll shielding half her face.

Familiar, isn’t it?

Ambrose’s eyes widened, dark fumes fumbled out of his mouth. Claws dug into the roots and rock. Ambrose could feel another light pulse from his pendant as old memories tried to claw into his mind like he did the earth.

“How dare you,” he growled.

The first thing Ambrose ever saw was the sky. It wasn’t through his eyes, so the sky looked bland, like an unfinished drawing, wet with paint. But then he felt a breeze on his own skin, blinked, and he saw the sky again with his own eyes. He remembered seeing streaked pink clouds…and then he closed his eyes and cried out.

“Do not pretend you know the fear I felt! Do not ever–do not–you-you have no right.” The dark fumes from his mouth mixed with sparks of fire.

Elise turned her body and looked up towards the rocks Ambrose was sitting behind. He hid his head, placed it on the cool earth. The question of if she caught a glimpse of him didn’t finish because as that thought started, it was quickly replaced by fire. Red hot. Burning the earth. He rose, ready to look into Elise’s eyes, but she had turned away again, watching the Waters as hands crawled over the sand.

“How dare you,” Ambrose thought. “How dare you think I am any path. I know you can sense me, feel my eyes burning against your head.

Ambrose.

“No! I am the only child of a mage! My path will not align with one ever again!

Ambrose.

Fire filled the air around the dragon. The twigs and leaves stuck on his coat of earth caught fire. His eyes glowed like a distant supernova. Ambrose took a step forward.

“I am your heart. I stole it for my body and ripped your chest apart so my body could be birthed. Cried out to your corpse and then killed the ones that tried to take me from you. My kind is the reason that a little mage girl is thrown in the forest to be forgotten. And now-and now--”

It is okay.

“It is not, Mother!”

The dragon growled loudly, and Elise jumped and turned towards the sound, but saw no one because Ambrose hid again.

It is okay.

The flames died, leaving only the distortion of heat in the air. The fire on his forest coat died too. He could feel the pendant around his horns. His mother’s pendant. The one he unwillingly stole as he was born. He remembered her body lying next to a river. Ambrose still did not know the magic that intertwines mages and dragons, but at least, in her death, the large hole in her chest did not show the innards of humans; the walls open to the world were covered in what looked like beautiful red gems.

He was born small, and the pendant was heavy on his head.

Ambrose, a name he heard in his head that day, only had moments to remember his mother’s face. Moments to hear three soft words, so soft that he could not make them out. Moments before, he felt ungrateful, murderous hands grab him for their greed and gluttony.

But fire is still fire, and humans still burn.

The water.

Ambrose did not move.

She is alone.

“I know that.”

Death is coming.

Ambrose took a deep breath, letting out dark fumes. “Good. She won’t end up like you. And I can finally see who took you.”

Ambrose heard Elise mumble, “Mommy?”

A short, high-pitched scream cut through the breeze. Ambrose rose and looked down. Elise was gone. No footprints in the sand except the ones that came from the forest. The water undisturbed. Waves calm, inviting. The doll made of sticks and string alone without its guardian.

Ambrose jumped down from the rocks and onto the sand.

Elise was gone.

Ambrose looked out into the waters and felt pulsing again, but it was not the pendant. No. It was against his chest. Hard and rapid. He looked around to see if Death arrived.

Ambrose!

“I can’t. We will be bound in our paths.”

Already bound.

“No! And t-the water won’t allow me. It will drown us both.”

It can’t.

The dragon growled, and the sand shook beneath him. The water does not allow anyone to enter that is not invited, but he is a dragon. A powerful creature of magic and human and something else entirely. And if Elise had the same fate as his mother–well, there would be more pride in that than just dying and being consumed after calling out to a fake mother. How cruel, he thought. But he himself was not his mother. Her voice–his voice…he did not have that kindness to be able to take away the cruelty. He only stole.

“Why do I feel this way?” He whispered.

The echo didn’t answer.

Ambrose leaned down. The thick coat of earth on his back cracked and grew. He took a deep breath, let fire escape his throat, and let his wings break free. He spread them wide, retracted them, and swung hard, pushing the sand away like a wave. He flew into the air. The sunlight revealed the underbelly of his wings. It was patterned like a dragonfly’s, iridescent with red hues. He rose higher and higher into the sky, over the sand, over the water until his shadow cast like an eclipse.

He paused.

This would be the second time his heart, owned by two, pounded so hard.

Ambrose dived straight down. The water parted, creating great waves that held the angry, warning screams of the creatures below. The waves trembled for just a moment before engulfing Ambrose.

Then, as if the two never existed, the water continued with its calm waves.

Seconds passed.

And seconds more.

The forest growth grew a few more inches over the rocks, watching and waiting.

And just when it seemed that the only evidence of life was the doll in the sand, through the quietness and calmness of the shore, large bubbles formed on the surface of the water. The bubbles popped, releasing screeching and cursing murmurs.

Ambrose shot out. A blur of glittering scales in the sun, holding the limp girl in his mouth. Leaving a trail of water and hands and fingers trying to hold on, grab on and take back. But he flew too high, and the hands came apart into beautiful diamonds against the sunlight.

The dragon flew back onto the shore and laid the girl down.

Ambrose watched her, soaked and still.

“It’s too late,” he panted.

No.

Ambrose balled his claws into a fist and hovered it over her chest.

“I will break her bones before I can get her to wake up!”

Try.

He pushed down on her body again and again. Harder each time. Hoping her lungs would expel.

“It is not working!”

Bound.

He growled, pushed down on her chest, and yelled, “Wake up!”

Wake up!

The girl’s eyes opened, glowing very briefly with golden magic before turning back to a dark brown. Her body jerked, she choked on the water that invaded her body. Fingers crawled out of her mouth and turned back into a normal form, damping the sand.

The dragon watched her struggle. His heart calmed. He had possibly sealed a fate, one that his mother shared. Allowed it to come back to the light of day as he fought off the strength of the grip of the Waters, ignored it as it went down his throat and nostrils, trying to drown the uninvited, a creature that they quite possibly have never drowned before. All the while as they tried to drag Elise into the darkness.

Death never showed.

His thoughts stopped as the child looked up at him. Eyes wide, tears covering her small face. Frozen. For she looked up for the first time at a dragon, cleansed by action, body the color of blood at night, eyes like a cat’s between so many stars. Large black horns decorated with a golden pendant. And his wings spread out, the underbelly, a blood-soaked dragonfly’s.

Ambrose waited for panic to break her frozen body. The magic to escape and try to save her.

Elise stood up. Wobbling in place but never breaking her eye contact with him.

There was a low, quick, repetitive noise.

On his right wing he felt light taps. He lifted it, and the little doll made of sticks and string floated without obstruction into the little girl's arms. Elise took two steps towards Ambrose and touched his scaled arm.

Forward.

“It seems you must sense my mother too, little girl.”

You’re not alone.

Ambrose’s heart beat against his thick, scaly skin. The pendant glimmered in the sunlight. As Elise huddled closer to him for protection, he whispered, “So, this is what it would mean to be born of a kind heart.”