Arkeron

Cold icy rain fell in drenching sheets, soaking the evergreen forest of the Peherrea Tuu'hum. The dense clouds hung so low that they grazed the tops of the trees. While this wilderness was accustomed to sudden raging storms, this one was unnatural, and all the creatures below could since it, from the tiniest beetle to the largest bear. Despite the rain, there was no wind. Despite a flicker of lightning, there was no clap of thunder, just an eerie silence and an endless deluge. It wasn't the lack of wind or thunder that troubled the forest, but what lurked within the storm itself.

The DRAGON soared through the clouds, like a shark swimming in milky water. The frigid air clung to its scaly body forming tiny ice crystals in the cracks between its scales. Dragons were not native to the island continent of Aijzakhan, with its snow-capped mountains, extreme storm patterns, and long winters. Instead, they hailed from the fire deserts of the Al Saad Adaquim, the home of the Sar'Pesh. There, dragons soared freely in the skies carried by heat rising off the smoldering sands. This dragon had never known such deserts, or such heat. It was hatched far away from its native home, far away from the sands of fire, and far away from any of its own kind.

The beast groaned as it shook a sheet of ice off its back. Every beat of its bat-like wings sent torrents of pain through its body, but it had to keep going. It had to keep searching. The storm that was summoned wouldn't last that much longer and it needed to find its prey.

"Find the Witch!" cried an angry voice in its mind. "Find the Witch, or all is lost!" The reverberating tones of its master dug deep into the subconscious of the beast. Every word clawed at the dragon's thoughts, cultivating the will of the one who awakened its mind; but took its freedom. "My word is LAW!" the voice shouted. "Find the Witch and end her life!"

It all began with the vision. Its master was an old sorcerer; one who specialized in Prescience. It was on this day nearly a month ago that he saw the terror that was coming. As their minds are linked, the dragon bear witness to events that had yet to transpire. Through its mind's eye, it saw cities set ablaze. Ocean waves as high as mountains crashing down on what remained. Millions died; their voices silenced forever. It was the death of Aijzakhan they witnessed together; the end of the Mageon.

"Genocide!" screamed the master. "We must stop it before it starts!"

By stopping it, the master meant killing this witch. Seeing the future was never an exact science. The dragon, itself, had not actually seen this "witch" that was supposed to start the great cataclysm. Any attempt to pull additional information into its master's foresight resulted in a mental blockade. The only thing the dragon truly know, was that its master wanted this creature dead, and the dragon was the executioner.

The Mageon and their Primacy did not believe in ending sentient life, but that didn't stop them hiring others to do their dirty work. Sadly, this was the reason this dragon was brought to Aijzakhan, to be used as a tool against the master's enemies. There was no use trying to disobey. As a familiar the dragon was bound by the Laws of Magic. Once a Soul Weave was completed, the awakened beast was forever chained to the will of the one who created it. Those chains tightened around its mind. Agony burned through the core of its being as icicles continued to rip into its hide.

"Find her!" the master cried. "Aberration! Law Breaker!" he continued. "Kill her!"

"Oh, what would it be like to be free!" thought the dragon. It had not meant to think that, especially so loudly in its mind. Its master's response was quick and cruel. The ropes of a will far greater than its own began to strangle out every thought and dream the dragon ever had, just as a man would ring the water from a sponge. Drip, drip, drip, every frame of its being melted away until only a fraction of the dragon's soul remained. It should have known better. The dragon had learned years ago to keep such things quiet; hidden.

"You'll never be free of me, beast!" the master sneered! "What would you know of freedom anyway?"

But it did know of freedom. It knew of it because it listened. This dragon couldn't read, nor could it write, but it loved to hear stories. More importantly, the dragon remembered. It devoured every story it heard from those that visited its master's Orrey. There were tales of the Sar'Deesh and their mighty airships. There were tales of the Bisclavrian forests that stretched as far as the eye could see or the libraries of Grand Lucia, where the histories of all of Ulrica resided. It cherished all of these, but the stories of the fire deserts of the Sar'Pesh, is what it loved most. The Sar'Pesh cared for the dragon and gave everyone a name. Maybe someday, this dragon would have a name of its own. It was careful this time. This thought was but a whisper in the wind.

Suddenly, the dragon heard a sound... a cry... Could it be what it was looking for? It circled closer to the trees, its massive hind claws racking the tops. It stretched out its long neck to its full extent, listening.

"There!" shrieked the voice! "There!"

An overwhelming desire filled its mind, and the bloodlust of the predator consumed all. It dove headlong into the trees, ignoring the pain as they splintered against its mighty body. All that mattered now was the kill. Just as it was about to strike the ground, it rose up allowing is hind feet to carve through the soft ground. With an explosion of dirt and debris, the dragon landed. It moved bat-like on the ground. Its large-clawed wings dragged it forward as it searched for the source of the "cry". It was then, that the monstrous beast saw it, the witch standing alone in a clearing.

"Dragon, kill her! Strike before it's too late!" the voice in its head screamed.

The noose around the dragon's mind tightened. It felt the fires burning within it grow hotter and hotter. It could feel the flames licking its tongue, threatening to belch out in torrents, yet no fire spilled out of its mouth. It stared down at the small creature covered head to toe in mud and the creature, a little human girl, stared right back at it.

"Kill her you..." the voice was cut short. Silenced...

The mental chains that had bound the beast loosened. The will of the master diminished. It was still there, nagging at the back of its mind, but the dragon was now in full control. For the first time in its entire existence, it was free. If dragons could cry, it would have flooded all the forests of the world with tears of joy.

"How did she get here?" the dragon thought openly without fear of pain.

It scanned the area. There was a horseless wagon cart a few feet away. The dragon sniffed the air. There were others in the forest. It tasted the scent. There was a mixture of sweat and metal, possibly Primacy soldiers. This girl didn't arrive here on her own. She was abandoned.

"Why."

It lowered its head, its eyes meeting the eyes of the girl, reptilian emerald-green to the girl's golden brown. Through the cracks in the mud, the dragon could make out threads of cream-colored skin and the girl's ebony hair was a total mess. And then, without warning, the girl ran to the dragon and hugged its snout. The warmth of her embrace shot through its entire body. It spread through it like a healing balm. The agony, the cold, the torment of its life was gone as if it had never existed.

"What type of magic could do this?" It wondered.

Then the dragon realized. This was the witch, but she wasn't a witch at all. She was a Wonderkind! It was a rare and powerful trait that only occurred in humans. The dragon had heard all about it while listening to its master's lessons. However, no such gift had ever warranted killing a human. Infact, the Primacy often celebrated such occurrences within the magical world. They would host a huge party. The Matriarch, herself, would show up and give a speech. Then they would bless the Wonderkind with a crystal shard of their own; a shard that would...

Anger burned within the dragon; an anger hotter than any fire. The Mageon were stealing the Wonderkind's gifts, trapping them within the shards, to be used for their own pitiful desires. For its master to want this girl dead, meant that her "gift" was far too dangerous to exploit.

The dragon released a low GROWL.

"Silly!" squeaked the little girl.

She gently stroked its snout and the great dragon couldn't help but melt into her grasp.

"Be a good dwagon!" her tiny voice commanded. "Be a good dwagon my Arkerwon."

Arkeron...

The name hit the dragon like a bolt of lightning. HIS body quivered as his full identity took hold. The air stirred with an electric buzz, as if a thousand new senses came to life. At that moment, something wonderful and yet terrible bloomed deep inside him. Wonderful, because even if this feeling didn't last, and it wouldn't, things had changed forever. He was no longer just a beast, a tool. He had a name, and that name was Arkeron. It was also terrible, because he knew he couldn't keep the child. This little human girl would never be safe, as long as his master lived, as long as they all lived. He would have to part with her. He would have to return to the torment, but despite the pain there was now hope.

He looked up to the sky. The storm had ceased. He could see thousands of stars shining down on him, baptizing him in a new reality. He dropped his eyes back to the little girl. He would give her a name as well, a name that would come to mean more to him than any other name he would ever learn.

"Nocturne."