The Penultimate

Foalan went with the northern wind, his great silver eyes shutting as the canopy of firs and pines rustled. His last breath would be carried on the breeze, to tell the story or his long life to whomever might listen for it. Good. Thought Saorla, resting a gentle claw against his scaled cheek. The wind will take him home to to mountains. Home to the ghosts that stand watch at the Blue Flame Keep.

She did not weep for him, or for herself. She was alone now. The very last of her kind.

For all the dragons in the world had begun to fade away. Great maws that once exhaled flame now lay extinguished, turning back to bone and dust beneath the soil.

Dragons had ruled this realm for many ages. But for no longer.

A curse had been laid upon them, catching at the tips of their tails like a cat at skirts, and holding tight. The curse turned the scales dull and colourless, the shine amd shimmer disappearing completely. It stole the flame from a dragons mouth, pulled the wings down from the skies, ripped the very soul from the dragon's body, until only a husk remained, the fire put out.

It was a curse. A disease. An ending of a way of life. It was extinction. It was the fading of the ways.

Saorla knew it was only a matter of time before she, too, faded into the wind. And no friend would be at her side then. Saorla tipped her snout to the stars, breathing in deeply the scent of snowcapped mountains, sweet pines and damp rock. The scent of home. The scent that had always called all dragons of the Blue Flame Keep home. Like the north star, like an arrow pointing the way.

She nodded her final goodbye to her last, dearest friend. She inhaled sharply, and let out a blast of fire, melting away that which had been. And with every flicker of flame, all that Faolan had been evaporated into the sky. Gone were every huffing, smoky moment or laughter every memory of a wing dipping in the wind, every ring of smoke puffing like a chimney from the dagger sharp teeth. Saorla beat her great leathery wings once, twice, lifting higher until she was above the trees, until she might have been the twinkle of a star. And then, she was moving forward like a shooting star across the glittering night sky, leaving the pile of bone and dust and fire behind.

Was this what the great mountain of the Blue Flame Keep had felt like all these years? The loneliness or a single peak, reaching up to touch the stars, reaching toward the only thing as miraculous as itself.

The very last dragon. The last protector of the Blue Flame Keep.

Saorla flew on and on into the night, all the next day, and into the darkness once more. She only stopped once exhaustion pulled at her eyelids and her scaled limbs felt like jelly. She landed on a rocky outcropping, no idea where she was, and curled up close, longing for the warmth of another body against hers to keep out the darkness of the night.

She dreamed of strange, uncanny things.

Water in a cave, the reflection shifting into suns and moons, and then her self. And the image rippled as a rock was thrown in, until her own picture distorted, and there was something else where she should be. Something that looked… human. And yet, other. This human had the silver eyes of a dragon. The silver of the pools at the blue flame keep. Like ponds of pure starlight.

Saorla awoke later, hazy and disconnected from deer body.

She blew out a puff of smoke, and then she was off again, not even thinking about breakfast or what direction she might be heading.

It wasn't until the sun had risen high in the sky that she heard something.

Almost a whimper. Too quiet for many animals of the woods. But not for Saorla. She flew lower, and lower, until landing in a narrow field which might have once been a creek bed. Forests of lush green conifers shaded the edges.

Saorla shook her wings slightly, and then folded them behind her. Flakes of scales were drifting off of her body, falling to the ground like the first fall of snow. Like ash.

Her breathing was rattling, her shiny claws dulling, her landing clumsy. Yes, she was losing herself. Too soon. Said a voice in her head. A strange, ancient voice, the voice of the Blue Flame. Hold on.

Saorla let these word sink down to her bones. Hold on? Why? She clenched her dagger sharp teeth together and began walking. She didn't know where. It was as if something was drawing her in, pulling her toward it.

And then… there it was. A child. A human child. Dark hair and bright green eyes, a simple wool dress, her hair in braids. So very ordinary. And yet… the child was other. It had a radiating blue shimmer about it, a hazy orb of blue light surrounding the child. Just like…

Just like how the Blue Flame magically surrounded dragon eggs after hatching. To protect the younglings until they could protect themselves.

Saorla stopped there in the clearing, her smoke filled mouth drying out.

The child. The child had the protection of the Blue Flame. The child had the aura of a dragon.

Saorla blinked. Not the last. Not extinct, not yet. That same ancient, knowing voice whispered. She was not the last. Perhaps she was simply the penultimate.