The Dragon Familiar

“There weren’t always dragons in the valley,” Ismeralda muttered to her young granddaughter as she swept the cold, rocky floor of the cave they called home, “It’s only since the bacon trees bloomed.” Ismeralda continued, “Once in a thousand years, those homely trees fill the air with their magical, meaty scent, causing all their eggs to hatch, and just think! We’re alive to see it. Awful timing. As usual. What I wouldn’t give for you to have a long, boring, life like the one I’ve had so far.” Ismeralda swatted a small dragon away from her face like a fly, flinging it against the wall of the cave with a startling THWAP!

“But Ooma,” Fawn objected, scooping the dragonling up from off the floor, “Boring is so… boring. Besides, I think the dragons are quite nice! Look! She’s so cute.” Fawn rubbed the top of its head with her tiny finger, eliciting a sigh of contentment from the fairy-sized reptile. “I think she likes me.”

“Well, wait ‘til she gets bigger. Won’t be so ‘nice’ then, believe you, me.” Her grandmother replied. “Soon she’ll be big enough to eat you with a single chomp!” Without missing a beat, Ismeralda snapped her ancient teeth together to make a loud crack! Fawn rolled her eyes, but took the hint. Though the dragons themselves were formidable opponents, so were Oomas, and frankly, she preferred to irritate the dragon.

“Okay, okay, fine.” Fawn relented as she walked toward the mouth of the cave, “I’ll put her outside.” She gingerly carried the small, pink-and-purple-scaled reptile, whom she had already named Pancakes, away from the cave and placed her carefully on a nearby rock.

“Don’t worry, Pancakes,” She whispered, putting a small piece of charred goat she’d saved from dinner in front of the hungry dragon, “I’ll be right back.”

While Fawn was out doing goddess-knows-what, Ismeralda finished putting away the last of the evening’s meal. She washed the dishes, emptied and cleaned the cauldron where she brewed potions for the local apothecary, and beat the bugs out from the straw mats where she and Fawn slept. Though it would have been faster with an extra set of hands, the chores were no trouble for her. Plump and squat, even for her very advanced age, Ismeralda was also deceptively strong. To this day, beneath what many wrongly disparaged as unnecessary weight, were robust muscles capable of hoisting at least two ewes over her shoulders at a time. Even during her younger (and equally corpulent) years, she was renowned not only for her deft ability to create remedies for almost any ailment, but for felling trees and splitting firewood with the local lumbermen, sometimes even hauling several bundles at a time to their homes with remarkable ease. Early on, some townsfolk tut-tutted at Ismeralda’s “unusual” strength, but ultimately decided that her gift was a boon. After all, what would they have done without her help all these years? Felled their own trees? Threshed their own wheat? Mucked their own stalls? Probably not. It made good sense to accept Ismeralda exactly as she was. This policy ended up working out so well, that the courtesy of acceptance was extended not just to Ismeralda, but to everyone in the Saufervalley. Even Lazy Tobi, the town lush, took a job as a doorstop for the tavern! “There’s no need to hold a door, when Lazy Tobi’s on the floor”, the people would say, and Tobi, with a newfound sense of purpose, would doff his cap to the tavern’s patrons on their way in and out. Like a gentleman.

Ismeralda laid her granddaughter’s freshly de-loused bed back on the ground, before plunking down on her own with a hefty THUD! She began to call for Fawn, but realized it was far too early for the girl to come inside. The sun was still peeking through the trees at the mouth of the cave, and from where she sat, she couldn’t see a single funkelfly.

“Oh, Izz, just let her play,” she mused as her eyelids heavied, “She’s always home by dark, and besides, you should try to enjoy the quiet. It’s rare enough as it is.”

Ismeralda was bone-tired, but even after sinking her ancient body into the straw mat beneath her, her mind raced. She knew not to worry about Fawn. There was very little in the woods that could reliably threaten a smart, knowledgeable girl, but whenever she tried to relax, the very possibility of loewkats, and ækids, and now the infernal dragons, paraded through Ismeralda’s mind like a coronation march. She recalled feeling this way while she was raising Noma, Fawn’s mother. Only this was worse because Noma was gone, and now Fawn is all she has--

“Stop catastrophizing!” Ismeralda said aloud. “The girl is fine. Better than fine, she is competent!” Her loud affirmation echoed through the walls of the cave, and in hearing her own words booming around her, Ismeralda realized that she believed them. Her granddaughter was competent. She would be fine. She knows the woods. The loewkats. The ækids. The trails, and the buttes, and the town and the river, and now she even has a pet dragon in thrall (in her Ooma’s heart she knew that girl hadn’t gotten rid of it). So what did Ismeralda have to worry about? Truly? What could she, even with all her strength, give this girl that she didn’t already have?

Ismeralda let out a yawn that almost took her jaw unhinging to fully release. She rubbed her dark brown eyes. She allowed herself to sink into the straw mat beneath her, and drifted off into a remarkably peaceful sleep.

Fawn reached the top of the Riven Butte a little before sunset, and looked out over the valley below. It was a beautiful spot, and the only place for miles where you could see the whole of the Saufervalley and even beyond to the big city of Nordlighthof. Soon, Fawn knew, the aurorae that made that city famous throughout the continent would dance in the sky above it. Not that she’d be able to watch. The northern lights wouldn’t start until well beyond her bedtime and she had to make it back before dark-ish, or at least before Ooma came looking for her.

Though Fawn had a lot more independence than other children her age, there were still quite a few rules she had to follow, “home before dark” being chief among them. Others included, “no pets!” and “no yelling!”. There were also a few practical ones about what to do with chamber pots, or not to swim in the cave river, both of which were followed without complaint. When your Ooma is the Boss Witch of the whole Saufer region, you tend to pick your battles. So Fawn made quick work of hunting down the supplies she needed to care for the little dragonling. Though she could keep sneaking Pancakes goat meat and feuernettles, she knew that since she’d been evicted from the cave she’d need shelter as well. Though it had been clear and cool earlier that day, the skies threatened storms east of the valley, and Fawn didn’t want Pancakes getting wet. She worried, and rightly, that if the dragon found the forest inhospitable, that she would leave for better conditions even if the better conditions might lead her into trouble. On the outskirts of the village, where Fawn lived, Pancakes was relatively safe. At least for now. But the closer she came to the humans, the more likely she was to get skooshed, or worse, killed, by those who saw her as a kind of plague. Fawn understood their point. Pancakes, like all the others, would eventually grow up and become menaces unless they were killed immediately, but she still couldn’t help thinking “What if?”

Fawn began pulling up strong wood and tall grasses that only grew at the top of the butte. She didn’t need much, considering the size of the creature. She could make a dragonling-sized lean-to around the side of the cave without her Ooma noticing. Out of habit, she also grabbed a few herbs she needed for unrelated reasons- Fawn never liked to waste the steep ascent up the butte!- and some sapling bark for a sweet new drink she was inventing. She took inventory of her supplies as the sun began to sink further into the horizon, counting her cache as the sky above began to striate into purple, orange, red, and pink hues tightly pulling across the vast expanse of the evening. Once she had everything she needed, she closed her stachel, and looked up to determine exactly how much time she had left until Ismeralda came looking for her.

But something was different. Something so faint at first that Fawn wasn’t sure what she was seeing. The lights?

“It can’t be--” Fawn whispered to herself.

The sky was still orange above her. It was far too early in the night to see what she was seeing. And yet, there it was. The northern lights, at dusk, coalescing into what looked like a shape, or a figure she couldn’t quite make out. Fawn stood in awe a few moments longer before realizing that she was beginning to lose daylight. She needed to go home. Now.

Balancing herself against the weight of her satchel, Fawn began her descent back down Riven Butte. She grabbed onto the thin trees that lined the path she carved for herself over the years to slow herself from a sprint, knowing that one misstep in the dark down the hill could result in serious injury or worse. As she got closer to the bottom, she could see the cave lit up against the dark around it.

“Almost there--” she said. And then proceeded to miss her last tree grip entirely, and tumble headlong down the foot of the mountain right into her Ooma’s calves.

“Oof!” Fawn shouted.

“Oof indeed.” Ismeralda complained. “What were you doing out past dark?”

“Ooma, look--”

“No excuses--”

“No! Ooma, look at the sky!”

Ismeralda looked up, but her view was obscured by the lush canopy of trees overhead.

“What about it?”

“The lights! They’re early tonight.”

“What lights? What are you talking about?”

“The northern lights, Ooma. You can see them from the top of the butte.”

“And what were you doing at the top of the butte?!”

“You’re missing the point!”

“Which is?”

Fawn grabbed her grandmother’s arm and pulled her into the clearing near the mouth of the cave.

“Look up!”

Ismeralda followed her granddaughter’s instruction. For once. And as she did, she saw a swirl of colors that turned into symbols in the night sky overhead.

“Those aren’t the northern lights.” Ismeralda whispered under her breath.

“Then what is it?” Fawn whispered right back.

“I’m not sure--”

Then the sound began. Indescribable except for the flapping of thousands of wings, and one set rapidly approaching! Fawn felt nails dig into her shoulder.

“Aah!” Fawn yelled, and turned to see Pancakes perched fearfully on her shoulder. “Oh hello, Pancakes! What are you doing here?”

The dragon cooed.

“I knew you didn’t get rid of the dragon.” Isemralda said, somewhat absently, as she watched Pancakes’ siblings take flight. “But I didn’t think you’d name her something so… unthreatening.”

“I’m sorry, Ooma--”

“Shh! Do you hear that?”

“No?”

The earth below them began to shake violently.

“We need to get inside!” Ismeralda cried.

Ismeralda and Fawn, with Pancakes in tow, ran toward the mouth of the cave as quickly as their aged and not-so-aged legs could carry them. As they ran, trees and rocks began to tumble all around them. They dodged the falling debris, and ducked out of the way of broken limbs, before finally, finally, reaching the mouth of the cave. Once inside, they caught their breath, then stood in silence and watched the chaos in the forest for what seemed like hours.

When she finally worked up the courage, Fawn whispered “What now, Ooma?”

“The cave has an enchantment that protects it from the outside world. We’re safe for now.”

“What about the people in the valley? Should we go get them--”

“The ones who survive will have me to care for them.”

“And the ones that don’t?”

There was a long silence.

Ismeralda broke her gaze on the outside world and retrained it on her young granddaughter.

“Hand me your satchel.” She commanded. Fawn quickly complied. Ismeralda turned over the bag, emptying its contents all over the freshly swept cave floor. She parsed out different items into two piles: ‘to keep’ and ‘to go’. Once she had assessed Fawn’s supplies, she began to rifle through her stashes in the cave, adding items until the bag was almost double its previous size.

“Ooma,” Fawn asked nervously, “Why are you packing?”

“You’ll need it for the road.”

“Where are we going?”

“To Drachenwald.”

“Drachenwald? I thought that place was a myth--”

“I don’t have any time to explain this to you.” Ismeralda said, motioning for Fawn to put out her arms. “But I need you to trust me.” She walked behind her granddaughter and saddled her with a bag that was now almost as large as she was.

“Come now. We’re going to the river. We have no time to lose.”

Ismeralda walked quickly through the cavern toward the back wall where Fawn had always been forbidden to go, and pushed aside a bear-sized boulder that would have strained a man twice her size with relative ease. A small, narrow, pitch-black corridor that only the tiniest of girls and dragons could wend their way through was revealed.

“Fawn, I need you to listen to me.”

“Yes, Ooma?”

“Do you remember when I told you about the cave river?”

“Yes?”

“It’s at the end of this corridor. Listen--”

The two stood in silence and listened to the sound of a distant flow of water.

“Do you hear that?” Ismeralda asked Fawn.

“I do.”

“I need you to follow the sound of that river until you get there.

"Okay--"

" Now, this is the important part, so please, please Fawn, listen to me: Once you get to the river, you’ll see that I’ve left a boat on its shore. You and Pancakes are to get into the boat, untie it from its mooring and allow it to float all the way until you reach the outside east of the valley near Nordlighthof. When you get there, put on the cloak I packed for you in the bag and hide until nightfall. At nightfall, move as quickly as you can past the city to a village called Tibbens. When you arrive, a witch with garnet-red hair named Severna will accompany you to Drachenwald. I put a map to Tibbens in your bag. Don’t take it out until you’re on dry land or the ink will smudge--”

“Ooma, wait--”

“Do you understand me?”

“I thought you said I was never to go in that river--”

“I know, but this is different. We need to get you to safety.”

“What about you? Aren't you coming with me?”

“I am safe. I’m strong, and I have magick.”

“So you can keep me safe, too, can’t you?”

“No.”

“But, Ooma!”

“Enough! You must go now. We don’t have much time until the enchantment on the cave wears off. Follow the sound, get to the river, let the boat carry you downstream, put on the cloak, wait until nightfall and find Severna. She is expecting you. Please. Go!”

“But Ooma!”

“Now!”

And with that, Ismeralda’s final command vibrated as though it were a chorus with a hundred people. A gust of wind burst from her fingertips, flinging Fawn down the corridor as the boulder rolled back into place. When the gale stopped, Fawn threw down her too-heavy pack, and sprinted toward the entrance, pounding on the massive rock with her little fists. She screamed for her Ooma in the darkness until she was absolutely hoarse, soaking her dress sleeves with tears and snot. But there was no reply. Her Ooma, presumably, was gone. Off fighting who knows what in the valley without her.

When Fawn had all but given up, she slumped against the rock and let out a feeble howl. She couldn’t do this alone, could she? How could she do anything without her Ooma? Especially in the dark? She couldn’t see anything. How would she even get to the river?

As though reading her mind, Pancakes began to move on Fawn’s small shoulder.

“What is it, Pancakes?”

Fawn could feel the dragon lean forward in front of her, and take in a deep breath before a small flame burst from her nostrils. The light from the little dragon couldn’t illuminate the whole space, but it pulled the little girl out of complete darkness, and that was enough.

Fawn rose carefully, worried that any shift in balance might cause the creature to startle, but they both seemed to manage it alright. She was also surprised to find that when just a little bit of her sight was restored, so was a little bit of her confidence. She knew at that moment that she would be able to complete her grandmother's request. She knew she wasn't alone after all. She had Pancakes.

The little girl took a deep breath and smoothed out her dress sleeves that she'd been using as a tissue. She readjusted her apron and her short black braids that fell over her collarbone. She reached down and hoisted the straps on her too-heavy-satchel over her shoulders once and for all and began to go forward, one step at a time, into her first big adventure.