Lumín's Bond

Armor coated bodies lay about a grassy expanse. The ashen remains of the eastern wood stood dead and empty. The clouds above looked heavy and slow. The field seemed devoid of all life to the eyes of Judin. He was the lookout for the ragged group of scavengers that had come to take what no one wanted. The bodies belonged to an army’s last-ditch attempt to push back a conqueror from another land. They had clearly failed, so the scavengers did their work. Armor and weaponry wasn’t worth carting back to the tents, so they looted for money and trinkets. Things of value that could be traded for good food.

Judin’s partner, Chessa, gave the scouts’ report. They were alone on the plains. Judin stuck his staff in the ground and went to help everyone search. He and Chessa would scour from the other end and meet their tribe halfway. Chessa led the way.

They were on their way through a pile of debris from wrecked wagons when she stopped in front of him, her face pale. Ahead of them lay a hoard of mangled bodies stacked in a tall pile. Something terrible had happened to them. Their armor was charred black and many of their bones were exposed. Judin pushed her forward past the gruesome scene. They were about to leave it behind, but they stopped dead in their tracks when they heard something.

The sound grew louder, and louder still. Coughing. Someone was still alive under the pile. They looked at each other, and Chessa hurried to start pulling the disfigured corpses out of the way. Judin quickly joined her. Body after body, they began moving the pile. As they worked, the coughing grew clearer. Finally, Chessa pulled a skeleton away and there was living flesh behind it. The head and shoulders of an unarmored man were visible. She reached out her hand, but the man didn’t move. He was clutching something to his chest. Judin couldn’t see it very well, but it seemed to be glowing. Together, they grabbed the man’s shoulders, and with all their strength, heaved the man from the pile.

He wasn’t coughing anymore, but his breathing was slow, labored. Chessa leaned down to speak to the man, and he grabbed her arm. She let out a panicked yelp, his grip was iron. Judin raced to help, but she waved him off. She looked at the man. He was staring back. After a second, he nodded to her and fell back, his arms going limp. His eyes stared up, glazed over. He was dead. The thing he was holding onto had rolled out of his grasp. Chessa had knelt down to hold it. She was smiling brightly. It seemed to be a smooth, pearlescent rock the size of a small chest. It pulsed dimly with vibrant colors.

Judin approached her, and she turned her smile to him and beckoned him over. At her direction, he placed a hand on the rock. He smiled too. Chessa helped to strap the rock to his back, and they continued to scan through the bodies, a spark of hope driving them both forward.

* * *

Around a broad meadow, leaves rustled against one another. The evening sun cast a golden glow upon the surrounding trees. A gentle breeze rose and fell. A small hill covered in grass seemed to move with the wind. The hill shook, and something rose from the ground. A large, scaly leg tipped with shining claws pushed through the dirt. Grass and soil fell off the hill in clumps as a long head shook free. Lumín opened her eyes and surveyed the land around her. The area was vibrant and teeming with life, but there was nothing big enough to threaten her nearby. She wiggled her body the rest of the way out of the ground. She spread her large wings and stretched her long tail with a big yawn.

After such a long nap, it was time for her to eat.

She soon found some thick trees by a wide river. She was quite thirsty, but the river’s murky water wasn’t what interested her. She carefully bit a small hole in a low hanging branch with one of her longest fangs. Already, the tree’s water was leaking out. A water tree grew by bodies of water and soaked up extra moisture through the ground to a hollow center. Nobody grew sick by drinking from a water tree. Lumín drank patiently until she tasted sap. She closed her mouth and left. The tree’s sap would cover the hole in time. For now, the tree would have to survive on all the liquid stored in the trunk.

She crawled toward the setting sun, sniffing around the base of small bushes. Soon enough, she smelled something very bitter and pulled up the bush, exposing a bulging juice root. She ignored the smell and chewed at the root, swallowing the delectable insides. This kind of find would feed a human family for a week, but she made quick work of it in a few minutes. There was no helping her appetite.

The sun was about to sink below the horizon, so she went to look for a place to spend the night. Even as big as she was, there could very well be threats she wasn’t prepared for. She traveled north, hoping for some decent tree cover. The sound of rushing water crept up on her. She was making her way back to the river. She was about to turn back, but then she heard something. It was weak and small, but she recognized it. She pushed forward, trying to find the source of the noise.

Finally, she pushed her way into a clearing, and there it was. A human boy lay sprawled on the ground. He looked young, like half of a full-grown human. His breathing was slow and he was whimpering softly. His clothes were a tattered mess and his skin was wet with water. If he wasn’t warmed up soon, he would surely die there. Lumín looked around. There was enough foliage surrounding them to keep them out of sight. She snuggled up close to the boy and used her head to nudge him to her side. She wrapped her wing around him, letting no more heat escape his body. His breathing became calm, and he rested comfortably against her scales.

She rested her head against her wing, securing the boy in place, and closed her eyes.

Lumín watched the boy. The sun had already risen, and the boy was dry and breathing normally. She had set him on soft grass to collect some food for him, which was lying in a neat pile not too far away.

The boy began to stir. He was waking up. She lay a safe distance from him in case he was frightened. The boy came to and sat up, rubbing his eyes. He looked at the sky, then the forest, then his eyes rested on her. His eyebrows shot up and he fell backwards with a shout. She remained still but kept watching him. He stood up quickly, shocked eyes staring straight at her.

She leaned her long neck forward and stood up. The closer she got, the faster the boy breathed, but he didn’t move. She touched her mouth to his chest, then brought her head to rest by the fruit pile. She looked back at him and nodded, then went back to her spot on the ground. The boy looked at the fruit, then back at her, and spoke. She couldn’t understand what he was saying, but it sounded like a question, so she nodded and turned away. Soon enough, she heard him eating. She was happy for that. He would need his strength if she was to bring him back to where he came from.

She lumbered off. The boy was still ravenously munching down on some juice root. She had already traced the boy’s path to the river. He was brought across by a shabby boat. He had dropped into the water to get onto the shore, then crawled into the forest until he’d nearly frozen to death. That’s where she found him.

She wanted to get him back to his home, but what lay on the other side of the river gave her pause. The trees were blackened and dead. A plume of smoke rose in the distance beyond. The sight was familiar and unpleasant, but she would have to brave the possibility in order to get the boy home. Hopefully whatever he escaped from wasn’t looking for him.

The boy clung to her neck as she crossed the river. It took little time to convince him to ride her. She floated well enough in water to keep the boy from getting wet again. She made it to the other side and began walking through the dead forest. The area was lifeless. Not a squirrel stirred, nor a cricket chirped. Everything was eerily silent.

Eventually, they came to a wide, worn path through the woods. Both directions wound through the trees, but one way seemed to head towards the smoke she saw. The boy saw the smoke and whimpered. He knew something in that direction. Regardless of what was ahead, she had no choice if she was to find the boy’s home. She started walking toward the smoke.

After a short while, she stopped and looked up in confusion. The dark plume was still very far off, but she smelled smoke. It had to have been closer. She quickened her pace. Something must be close ahead. Sure enough, after she crested a hill, she saw it. There was a wrecked wagon at the bottom of the hill. As she made her way down to it, the boy clung more tightly to her neck. This must be how he got all the way out here.

The wagon was in pieces. Charred ends still smoldered. There were piles of tattered cloth littering the ground nearby. A broken harness was attached to the front. It was facing the direction of the river. Could the boy have driven this thing by himself? He didn’t seem that able. Something wasn’t right. How could the wagon have crashed in the middle of an empty road? She bent over to sniff one of the cloth piles. Smoke. Decay.

Memories resurfaced. Her eyes widened in shocked terror.

* * *

Lumín scampered around happily. She was chasing a squirrel around a water tree. The trunk was so thick, she couldn’t see her tail on the other side no matter how hard she stretched her neck. The squirrel changed direction and she tripped over herself, tumbling over and over. She sat up, dizzy. She wanted to see Chessa, so she made her way back to the cabin. The trees towered over her; their tops illuminated by the setting sun. She walked into the clearing around the cabin and looked around. She saw Judin pouring water into a bucket from a piece of metal sticking out of a water tree. She couldn’t see Chessa, so she hopped up the steps to the front door and hummed loudly.

Soon enough, footsteps sounded from inside and the door creaked open. Squealing in delight, she shot up Chessa’s leg and up her back. Chessa yelped in surprise and flailed her arms to regain her balance. Lumín could barely fit on her shoulder anymore. She was getting too big too fast. Chessa pulled her down and carried her in her arms. Lumín sat back happily and let herself be cradled.

Chessa brought her back inside and sat in her rocking chair by the fireplace. Eventually, Judin came in and prepared their night meal. Lumín chewed happily on some juicy root.

The fire died down, and glowing embers were all that remained. Judin had gone to bed, but Chessa rested in her chair, and Lumín was curled up on the floor. Suddenly, her head perked up. She smelled something like dust and rotten food. It made her uneasy. Bright moonlight shimmered on the wood floor. Judin was snoring in his bed. Nothing seemed wrong. Lumín went over to drink from her bowl. Maybe she was thirsty.

It didn’t help. She wandered back to the fire and curled up next to Chessa. She nudged her foot with her head. She stirred awake and saw Lumín. She smiled and reached out her hand.

Something in the back of the cabin shattered. Lumín whimpered, frightened. Chessa stood up quickly and grabbed a fire poker. Muffled sounds came from the bedroom. The door opened wide and Judin rushed out in a hurry. He stood in the hallway and looked at them, worried. His face turned to relief when he saw they were fine.

Without warning, he flew backward, crashing through the back door as something growled and snarled violently. Chessa screamed and looked at Lumín. She seemed to make a decision and scooped her up in her arms. Then she took off through the front door. Lumín pressed against Chessa, terrified. Chessa ran them through the woods, jumping bushes and skirting trees. Suddenly, she tripped, and they both went flying. They tumbled to the ground, but Lumín got back up quickly. She looked around in a panic, trying to find Chessa. She sniffed around frantically. Pushing her way through a bush, she finally caught sight of her. She was getting up slowly, using a tree to balance herself. Lumín almost lept out of the bush, but something stopped her.

She smelled smoke.

* * *

Lumín brought her head up and looked around. The sun was bright overhead, but clouds were gathering. She looked at the boy, and he looked at her. His face was grim. She continued onward toward the smoke. She was very worried about what she would find, but the boy needed a home.

The road was long, but they encountered no travelers. That was a bad sign. It became clear that the source of the smoke was a village. Lumín approached carefully, but there weren’t any signs of life. The main road was completely abandoned, but many buildings were still intact.

Many things about the village seemed very familiar. There was a well next to a large building she used to drink from. She had accidentally fallen in it once. She had learned to swim in that well. It was after a few minutes of playing in the water that a bucket came down and brought her up. The boy who pulled her out was shocked when she lept up at him. Whenever she visited the village from that day on, she would find the boy and play with him. It had been many years since then.

She sat herself down and the boy slid off of her. She looked at him and motioned toward the village with her head. Maybe this is where he lived. But the boy shook his head and pointed further down the road.

There was a noise and Lumín swung her head around. Something moved just behind the big building. She growled loudly, turning slowly. She needed the boy to be safe. Her wing went to the ground toward the boy, and he climbed up her carefully. He grasped her neck, and she stalked forward, intent on finding the source of the noise. She turned the corner and reared her head menacingly, then stopped.

She could hear someone crying. A human. There was a large board barring the way between the building and a house. She reached a claw forward and gently moved the board aside. Metal clanged as multiple human children came into view. There was a large, patchy cloth making up some kind of tent over them. They held up rusted farm tools and stared her down. The smallest girl dropped the thing she held. Her face was overcome with an expression of awe. She tugged on the older boy’s sleeve and exclaimed excitedly. She scurried back into their makeshift tent as the boy lowered what he held. The children parted as the small girl helped an elderly man out from the back of the tent.

The man looked up at Lumín and recognition blossomed in his eyes. He held out his arms and limped over to her. He embraced the bottom of her neck, tears falling from his eyes. Lumín stood still, confused at the man’s affection. He seemed to notice and turned back to the girl, beckoning with his hand. The girl emerged from the tent, holding an old rusty bucket, which the man took. He held it up for Lumín and gestured with it.

She looked closely, and realization dawned upon her. It was him. The boy she used to play with. She hummed happily and leaned her forehead against the man’s chest. Then she turned, revealing the boy on her back, and looked at the man, hopeful. The man seemed to recognize him, but he spoke and shook his head. He pointed down the road, the same way the boy had. She still didn’t know what he was saying, but he was definitely pointing out of the village. There was a way to go yet.

She nodded to the man and the children and began walking. The sun was sinking toward the horizon, and the boy needed to be home.

She settled down at the edge of a forest. The sun was about to set, and she couldn’t maneuver very well within the dense woods. At least these trees were still alive and healthy. By the state of the village, she wasn’t sure she’d find a lively thing anywhere nearby.

The boy had led her to a path that cut through the trees. They would continue in the morning. She hoped his home was close by. And his family. The old boat, the wrecked wagon, his torn clothes, they all bespoke an ominous fate for those that had helped him get that far. If they came all this way to discover he no longer had a home, what could she do? She couldn’t care for the boy forever. Humans were so fragile, and she didn’t know how to mend them. Perhaps she could leave him in the village. Surely there was someone who could care for him.

She wasn’t going to dwell all night. The boy needed rest. She pondered what could be a proper shelter for him. She decided to dig a hole and cover part of it with branches thick with leaves. She cut a carpet of dirt and grass to lay at the bottom for a soft nest. Once finished, she gestured with her claws for the boy to go inside. The solid ground would keep the wind out. Once the boy was inside, she covered up the entrance with more branches. It wasn’t very sturdy, but it would be enough.

She rested next to it and watched the sun descend. The boy’s breathing slowed as he fell asleep. She rested her head on the ground and closed her eyes.

Lumín woke up. Something was rustling deep in the forest. It was still night. The moon was hidden behind clouds. She searched around, but there wasn’t much light to see by, even for her. The boy was awake too. He was peeking out of his shelter, and he looked frightened. Lumín began to stand, then froze. Smoke. Rot. Decay.

The familiar scent sent shocks of fear through her. Her eyes were trained on the forest, but a growl sounded behind her. She turned carefully, and the moon emerged, bright and full. The land was cast with white light, and she saw them. Shadowy beasts circled her camp. Dark smoke trailed off their backs with no fire beneath. Their shape seemed like that of a starved wolf. Rock-like skin barely covered a visible bone structure. They snarled, revealing glistening obsidian teeth that matched their wicked claws. With each step, they left behind dead, broken ground. Their eyes were voids, swallowing even the light of the moon.

The creatures in front of her stopped and sat. Their teeth were bared eagerly. Something rustled through the trees behind her. She turned back to the forest, and another one emerged. This one was easily as big as she was. Its claws raked at a tree as it pushed forward slowly. The tree quickly disintegrated into black ash.

Lumín’s eyes darted to the sides in terror. This was how… This was… She couldn’t go on. She closed her eyes, whimpering. The boy was crying. She heard him. His sadness. His loss. She remembered her loss. She remembered…

* * *

The smokey smell grew stronger. It pervaded her nostrils until she was dizzy from it all. Something about it prevented her from going to Chessa. Something rustled in the bushes nearby. Lumín hoped it was Judin coming to tell them everything would be fine. Chessa began to stir. She got up and leaned against a tree. She looked around and froze. Her face took on an expression of horror, and she backed away frantically. Something launched out from behind those bushes and Chessa crashed to the ground.

Lumín could see it. A nightmare made real pinned Chessa down. Black smoke rose from its hide. Lumín whimpered, worried. The creature’s head swiveled to her with a snarl. Chessa looked to the bush Lumín was hiding in and saw her. She desperately grappled at the beast atop her to divert its attention. The monster casually swiped her away with massive claws and Chessa went limp. Slowly, Chessa’s body disintegrated into nothing. Not even her clothes remained. Lumín could do nothing but watch.

The creature began stalking toward her, but she wasn’t aware of it anymore. Chessa. Judin. Her family. Her home. It was all gone. She was lost, alone. She closed her eyes as her whole world seemed to crash down around her. She threw back her head and howled despairingly into the night.

* * *

Lumín howled and sang her mourning to the moon. Bright waves of prismatic light erupted from her body and spread in every direction. Where the light touched, grass grew. Flowers blossomed and bloomed. The monsters were blasted away into nothingness. For a long and wonderful moment, the night was day and life was at its peak.

Lumín ended her call and shuddered in sadness. Her worst memories made fresh, she cried silently. She knew the creatures were gone. She looked to the boy, and to her surprise, he was smiling. He burst from his shelter and ran to her, laughing all the way. He hugged her snout, and she closed her eyes gratefully. She knelt back down, and he leaned against her side, yawning. They fell asleep and had dreams of happy memories.

The sun rose to a clear morning sky. They got going quickly, eager to traverse the final stretch of their journey. The path through the forest wound and split, but the boy knew his way. He led them reluctantly. She realized he wasn’t optimistic about what they would find. Perhaps he already knew.

They came to a clearing where a ruined cabin stood. Half of it was charred and collapsed. The other half had shattered windows and no doors. There was a small stable, but no horse. Many of the trees were burned stumps or trunks. Whatever used to live here was long gone.

Lumín’s breath caught as she saw what lay before them. A large circle of blackened grass painted the ground before the stable. At its center lay two burnt skeletons. The boy hugged Lumín’s leg and began to cry. He had no home here. His parents must’ve tried to take the creatures with them by burning them away, giving their son a chance to escape in the wagon. Whatever they did, it worked. The boy managed to make it very far on his own.

She brought him back to the road and sat him down. Then, she went over to the corpses and dug two big holes to place the bodies in. After she was done with the burial, she went over to the house. Her head fit into the collapsed hole. After looking around, she found a small toy sword. It was carved with a pattern of three humans, hand in hand. She picked it up gently with her teeth and brought it over to the boy. He grabbed it eagerly and smiled up at her with teary eyes. She lowered a wing, and he climbed up. They would make their way back to the village.

By the time they got back, the village was putting itself back together. The survivors of the attack that put the village in such a sorry state were gathering before the large building next to the well. They were all surprised to find a boy and a house-sized dragon making their way before them. The old man assured them all that Lumín was peaceful. He even remembered her name. The name Chessa gave her.

Lumín was a big help rebuilding what was lost. The boy wouldn’t leave her side the whole time. He fit in well with the village. Some of the other kids knew him, and he talked with them every day.

Once the village was repaired, life began to flow normally. The market began selling again. Travelers passed through. Merchants. Lords and Ladies. Even soldiers in shining armor found their way through the village every now and then. Lumín stayed through it all. She’d grown attached to the boy, and after she lost her family, she didn’t know what to do. She had flown far away and hid, resting until she had to eat, then going right back underground to keep away from the monsters. The boy had brought meaning back into her life, so she stayed. She guarded the village, determined to keep any more nightmares at bay.

She would never be alone again.