Emerald

Dragons are the rulers of any domain they see fit to inhabit. If a mighty red dragon finds a volcanic mountain, it will burrow deep into the lava flow and claim all the lands around for miles, the borders drawn by the smoldering ruins of previous tenants. If a clever blue dragon decides to move into the sands of a desert, it will bury itself deep beneath the dunes, laying perfectly still for one hundred years or more in deep slumber. If, when it awakens, it finds that a settlement has appeared around it, there will be no doubt as to who the proper master of the dry plains shall be. Many are the swamps that no mortal dares to tread, knowing a terrible, sadistic, and magically gifted black dragon has laid claim to it, even if the beast has not been spotted for hundreds of years. And while only the hardiest of peoples can hope to survive on the frozen tundras of the north, they know only a single response to spying the shadow of a white dragon overhead. Run. Run or become frozen statues for the creature's lair as its foul, chilled breath descends upon them.

Green dragons prefer lush, dense forests. The smallest and weakest of all dragon-kind, they find it easier to hide beneath thick canopies of trees and within thick brambles, their thin scales managing to mostly protect them from barbs and thorns.

While red dragons are boisterous, whites primitive hunters, blues brilliant tacticians, and black dragons isolated arcane researchers, green dragons are known for another trait. They are, to their core, liars. Deceitful. Untrustworthy. A green dragon will spin you a tale so logical, so reasonable, that even if you know their wretched reputation you can't help but believe them.

“What reason would I have to lie?” they will ask you.

“What harm is there in looking?” they will whisper.

“I will not force you,” they will insist, knowing you will return.

Logic, reason, and nearly two dozen years of hunting the beasts told me that trusting a green dragon was like trusting the sun not to rise, or the ocean not to drown you. With this in mind, my plan had been simple. I spent weeks in the forest, acclimating myself to it and the creatures of the woods to my presence. The birds knew not to scurry off at my approach, for I was the one who fed them corn. The deer knew they could use their normal trails and not worry about the new arrival. I studied the plants of the region, knowing that greens liked to tend to poisons and magical plants that could swallow a person whole, if they weren't careful. But I was a dragon hunter. And dragon hunters were either careful, or dead.

“I cannot care for it myself,” the beast hissed. “I have no milk to offer it. No warm blankets. No comforts of its kind.”

Despite my traps, wires attached to bells to warn me in my sleep should an unwanted guest approach, I awoke to the sight of a serpentine neck and angular muzzle peering out from a large bush. As per usual, it wasn't large enough to swallow me whole, but it could have easily gotten an arm or a leg before I'd awoken. Knowing I should be dead, I'd kept perfectly still and watched in amazement as it came fully into my camp. Its tail was wrapped tightly but gently around a small bundle which it laid out in the space between us on the forest floor.

A child. A human child. Sleeping soundly as a monster hovered about it, throat fully capable of spraying a sickening poison gas that would kill such a wee thing almost instantly. Small as it was compared to a red, the babe was so much smaller that it could be gobbled up in a single bite, should the fiend grow hungry. I was fast, fast enough to survive dozens of battles against the strongest beings this world had to offer. With sword in hand I was a whirlwind. With a bow I could split hairs off a running deer's backside. And with the special ingredients in my bag, I knew enough magic to further enhance my abilities, heal my wounds, and send terrible death to my prey. But if that dragon had decided to harm that child, there would be nothing I could do to stop it, not sitting up in my bedroll, weapons and magical affects resting next to me.

“Where did it come from?” I asked, hoping to buy time and formulate a plan.

The dragon “shrugged”, if such a thing were possible, wings shifting up and down at the joint where they met the creature's back.

“I came across it in the woods,” it insisted. “Perhaps left by its parents? Perhaps the result of some tryst with the dryad who lives close to the river? Does it matter? Take the thing and leave, else it will likely starve.”

I eyed the beast then felt my eyes moving towards my weapons.

“I could have killed you as you slept,” it grumbled, oh so reasonably. “I could have eaten the youngling and been done with it. Why would I bring it to you if not for you to keep it safe? To take it from my forest and to its own kind?”

I narrowed my eyes, “Why does a forest drake do anything? Your kind are devious, your motives inscrutable. My purpose in life is to take yours. You should kill me, for I will return otherwise and slay you.”

I was not afraid to die. I'd given my life to the hunt years ago when my old life had burned down around me. I could not save the child, could not even defend myself given my position. All I could do was die with pride knowing I'd taken so many of these destructive monsters to the grave before I'd found my own.

“Perhaps I should,” the beast whispered, its voice carrying like a blade through cold, morning air. “But I will not. Take the child, or don't. I've done what I can. On your head be it.”

The drake never blinked, never took its eyes off of me as it shifted backward into the brush. While small for a dragon, the creature was still larger than the mightiest of warhorses. Still, it vanished into the leaves and foliage like a cat in the shadows. I strained my ears to listen, noticing only then that I was in total silence. No birdsong, no skittering of squirrels up trees, no snapping of twigs beneath the hooves of careless fawns. The creatures of the forest had fled at its presence and left total silence. Silence that the dragon kept alive as it crept out of sight.

It took ten days to get back to town. I would have gone faster, if not for the fussing child. I never knew how draining a child could be. Long treks across tundras are nothing compared to an hour trying to put a crying infant to sleep. No one in the small village knew the child, or of any missing children. They had little and none offered to take them in. But there was a tavern that sometimes rented out the back room and offered to help feed the babe so long as I paid for my own room and board. After three days I began to lose hope. I'd need to travel to the next town over, a larger hamlet, and seek help there.

“Where is it?!”

A voice boomed, shaking the timbers of the tavern and loosing dust from the rafters like a cave-in was about to bring the roof down on our heads. The baby began to cry but I quickly shushed it and rocked it in the way I now knew they liked. They quieted down quickly as I moved into the taproom.

“What's happening?!?!” the bartender frantically asked me.

“Keep them safe,” I instructed as I pushed the child into their arms.

Their mouth was agape, face full of fear and confusion, but I had no time to explain. I gathered my things as the next wave came, shaking the very ground and splitting my head like an axe would a piece of firewood.

“Give it to me! Or I will burn this place to cinders!”

I opened the window of my small room and crawled outside, silent as a green dragon in the forest.

“Calm yourself, old friend,” hissed a familiar voice. “I offered you the child in exchange for keeping my lands safe from your wrath. This settlement keeps away unpleasant elements and...”

“Silence, fool! Else I'll pick my teeth with your bones once I'm done with this place!”

I rounded the corner of the building, keeping flat against the wall, and saw a familiar, yet horrifying sight. A massive red dragon, nostrils alight with building flame, eyes burning with unfathomable rage, stood just outside the front of the tavern. It stood larger than a house, towering over the cowering green dragon from the forest. The red looked read to snap at the green, and would likely take half its body in a single chomp of its impressive jaws.

“Mercy, friend!” cried the forest drake. “I wish only to help!”

“Then bring it to me!” the red demon bellowed. “WHERE?! IS?! THE?! CHILD?!?!”

Its head thrashed about as if its quarry was just in the corner of its eye. Its rage had maddened it, as I'd seen many times before, making it careless. I reached into my component pouch and brought forth a bottle of dull gray dust. I had just enough for a single shot. I uncorked it, careful not to drop it nor breath in the fumes, and brought out an arrow from my quiver. I looked up from my work just in time to see the huge beast's gaze begin to drift in my direction. Suddenly, the green dragon was on the move, putting itself between me and the far larger creature.

“Patience, great one!” it pleaded. “The prophecy was clear! This child is your one weakness! The only thing which could destroy one so powerful as you! You should exercise caution!”

The fire dragon's growl was like an earthquake, like the ground itself was a drum to be beaten by the hands of a mighty titan. Its glowing eyes stared down at the diminutive, lesser dragon which appeared to shrink before those terrible eyes.

“You think I should fear it?” it spat. “A human? A child, at that?! I am flame! I am death! I fear nothing!”

I finished coating the tip of my arrow and notched it with a practiced ease.

“You should,” I called out as I loosed my missile.

The fiend looked up just in time to catch my arrow in its eye, one of the few places not protected by the stone-like scales that offered near-invincibility to the boisterous creature. What shouts it had used to shake the little town were as nothing compared to the howl of pain it let loose as the arrow dug deep into its skull. The powder, I knew, would burn its very blood, driving it insane with pain and even smothering the flames that would otherwise have devoured me as it continued to roar in my direction.

As I notched another arrow and let it fly, the great beast leapt forward, gaining speed before sprung into the air and took to the skies. I managed to put a few holes into its membranous wings, but not enough to slow its flight. It was only when I lowered my bow that I noticed the green dragon standing just beside me, silent as death.

“Found it in the woods, did you?” I asked.

The beast shrugged, “'Found' may have been a bit misleading. But don't you mortals say, 'All's well that ends well?'”

I was about to argue when a new cry broke out across the village. The bartender, it seemed, did not know how to calm the little one as I did. The green scaled beast began sauntering off down the road like it was off to market.

It glanced over its shoulder and said, “I believe your pupil needs you, dragon hunter.”

I watched the dragon until it left the borders of the village. And all the while, the babe wailed in indignation. Green dragons, though small in size and power, were devious tricksters.

'But perhaps,' I thought to myself. 'Their tricks can be put to good end.'

I slowly returned to the tavern and retrieved the child. With no one to stop me, I decided their name would be Emerald. And if they would have me as their teacher, Emerald would be the greatest dragon hunter of all time. Though, perhaps we would focus our attentions on some other drake far from here and leave this forest alone. For now.

'After all. What harm could it do?'