Lore's Promised Adventure

Hundreds of miles had been left behind, yet Lore still pumped his tired wings. They were still weak from decades of not working them, and the battle had added to the heaviness he now felt. Along with his ebbing strength, so was his adrenaline. 

Noa was sleeping soundly in the saddle, which was surprising to him after everything that had happened. The tot was resilient. He was thankful she could rest, because he was sure he would be having nightmares if he could sleep. The whole event was consuming his thoughts as it was. 

He replayed it again. King Archer nearly killed Noa. His own blood. His child! The moment he had decided the trident was worth more than her, was when Lore had realized she was the real treasure. He loosened a puff of smoke some of the anger waning. 

It was twilight now and quiet. In days past it was the dragons' favorite time to fly along with gliding along the water. He would have hovered right above to feel its coolness and sip from it. Tonight he soared in the opposite direction. 

Although Archer deserved to be eaten by the sirens the reminder that they lurked under the sea kept him away. Kept Noa safe. That was Lore’s purpose now. Not to be the First Dragon, the Oldest Dragon, or the Dragon of Myths, but to be her protector. So that’s why he kept putting distance between anything and anyone who could, or would harm her. 

Hours passed giving him time to ponder problems that he needed solutions to. Noa was a human child and required many things. Currently, she had nothing but the tattered clothing she wore. Her feet were bare, shoes probably lost on the island they fled. He added both items to his mental list along with something sturdier than seaweed for her saddle’s buckle. Among the most important was shelter, and as if on cue it began to rain. He descended closer to a canopy of trees, nearing enough for him to pluck a large leaf, and then he used it to cover her. Making it a temporary blanket. 

Lore wasn’t sure where they would settle. In fact, he wasn’t entirely sure where they currently were. In his haste to get Noa to safety he hadn’t paid enough attention to the surroundings. There was a time when he had all this land memorized. He was the First Dragon after all. He wasn’t sure if his time in isolation had caused him to forget, or if so much had changed, but nothing here was recognizable. 

The trees they flew over were unlike any he’d seen before. These shot toward the stars with thick trunks and branches that winked out any remaining light. There were so many scents. Some he recognized like wet soil, and mushrooms but others were harder to pinpoint. It wasn’t as quiet as before. He could hear toads croaking along with the sounds of nocturnal creatures who were probably hunting. His stomach grumbled at the thought making him wonder what kind of prey he could catch for him and Noa. Food was definitely on the list of necessities.  

Movement from one of the trees caught his attention, and he slowed with curiosity as he watched it go from one to the other. Whatever it was didn’t seem very large but was moving fast. He focused his glowing eyes to track the creature. Saliva was just forming when a succession of noises erupted from it followed by answering sounds that were foreign and ugly.  They stirred Noa slightly, and he rumbled in agitation, for both rousing her, and for losing a potential meal. He hushed the waking tot back to sleep as he flew them higher. 

The longer the flight stretched the less sure Lore was of himself. He was still no closer to acquiring anything Noa needed. The sun was beginning to rise, which he was thankful for. The light would be helpful. He was caught in his own self-pity when he heard her tiny voice, “Oar,” she tugged at one of his wings. He turned his head to peer down at her. She smiled up at him with sleep crusted eyes. “Good morning tyke,” he replied. She pointed her pudgy index finger at the ground below, “ook peepoles.” He looked to where she indicated and just as she said, there they were. A dozen or so women were gathering water from a large river bend.

Unlike the kingdom Noa came from these women wore breeches that were cuffed above their ankles. She’d only ever seen men wear them while full-skirted dresses were reserved for ladies. Their voices weren’t light like those back home either. These ladies were loud but in a joyful way. Some of them laughed while one sang. 

The pair were high enough that they weren’t spotted, but close enough that Noa was taken by the women. “Oar I go play? I play wit pwetty,” she asked several times continuing to tug at his wing. He knew that their village had to be nearby and it would have many things she could use. But where there was women, there were men. Men were cunning, ruthless and posed a threat to both of them. He hadn’t saved her just to lead them toward more danger. 

Lore also had to think logically and concluded that he would follow the women once they were done filling their baskets. Wherever they led he would assess the area before formulating a plot. It wasn’t shortly after his decision was made that their work was done, and even shorter to their location. 

They watched above as the ladies arrived to an outcropping of caverns with homes built into the walls of stone. There were children Noa’s age running after each other. Some men were smoking meats while some women sat on a log knitting something from burlap. In any direction the place was filled with action and words. But it wasn’t the group that had his senses shocked and his wings faltering. Hanging from the tallest rock was a banner; the banner of the Dragons. Dragons, like him, thought to have been extinct. 

Noa squealed as Lore bobbed making him aware and bringing him back to himself. He righted his body and circled the caverns. He didn’t see or hear any dragons, but without them why would these humans have their banner?

A century ago, perhaps longer, flags with the Dragon insignia were flown by those who were aligned with the dragons. It was a time when there were just as many fire breathers as humans. Those who bore the symbol lived in peace and were protected until other humans who lusted after power extinguished the species. The last great war had done the last in, and he was the only one who escaped from the carnage. That’s what he had always believed. There hadn’t been so much of a whisper that any had survived. If there had he never would have given up looking for them. 

Lore rose higher to see what he could discern when his nostrils caught a scent. It plowed into him sparking his whole body with anticipation and excitement. Without a second thought he rocketed after it. He knew he wouldn’t stop until he caught up with it. He’d fly until his wings fell off, because the scent he sought was a familiar one. He had promised Noa an adventure, and he would keep it, he thought anxiously as they flew toward his mate he thought he had lost.