Nevar and Crow

Nevar prowled the unlit forest, and lesser creatures fled to the trees and bushes in their wake.

Obsidian scales slid over molten skin with every massive, leaf-shaking, ground-rumbling step.

They took deep breaths that clicked as they left the cavern of lava in their chest. Each exhale materialized as dense, black tendrils; with every inhale, Nevar sifted through the forest air. It smelt of char and smoke as the tip of their tail smoldered in blue flame, slithering behind them.

And there was an underlying stench of fear.

The pit of Nevar’s stomach roared to be filled.

Their eyes scanned the shadows on the forest floor, seeking out those too foolish not to hide.

A cry rang out.

Wailing. Echoing.

Nevar recognized it as human; only humans, who rarely dared to step foot in their forest, would be foolish to cry so loud at night. Nevar charged forward, tracking the noise.

It lured them to a clearing, shining in light as the moon gleamed above.

In the middle of the canopied grass stood a tiny, stumbling child.

Nevar's spindly forked tongue whipped around their maw as they approached, teeth bared.

The child turned towards the tremors of nearing footfalls and, startling the unmovable dragon, ran towards Nevar.

Nevar's eyes widened, blue fame shooting from their pupils, as the child embraced one of their wide front legs.

An unfamiliar sensation thrummed through Nevar's veins, filled their soul, and led them to l0ok down at the child with a cocked head. They realized the child must have been abdondoned. Forgotten. To have made his way so deep into the forest would be unplausible. With those little, uncoordinated feet...

"Please help me." The child looked up, sniffling and sobbing.

Nevar sneered in disgust as the child wiped away a thick trail of mucus. "What is your name?"

"I don't have one." He hiccuped and nearly tumbled backwards.

Nevar laughed sardonically. The sound traveled up into the night sky and startled flocks of sleeping birds from their trees. They cawed in a chilling symphony as they flew away, wings flapping rapidly. "Ridiculous. How does one not have a name?"

"No one gave me one." The child shook his head.

He stepped back. Nevar watched tears fall from his wide, dark eyes. A breeze funneled through the clearing, rustling the child's feathery black hair.

"I will call you Crow."

"Crow?"

"I am Nevar." Nevar surveyed the area around the clearing and smelled the air, waiting to find any trace of the people who left Crow behind. "Where do you come from? Do you have a home?"

"I don't know." Crow's eyes bore into the ground. His voice was impossibly soft, barely louder than the wind. "No."

Before Nevar could think any better, they said, "Come with me. I will keep you safe. At least through the night."

Crow grinned. Tears streamed past the corners of his mouth where his cheeks wrinkled. "Can I ride on your back?"

"Absolutely n-"

"Okay!"

Crow scrambled to crawl up Nevar's leg. His fingers fit between the warm spaces of their scales, and the leather toes of his shoes followed. Nevar growled as Crow made it to their shoulder, reaching for the junction with their wing.

"Careful, Child."

"I am."

Crow reached and pulled himself up over Nevar's wing to land on the broad space behind their neck.

"Are you satisfied now?"

"I did it!"

Nevar rotated their head, looking over their shoulder at Crow. "We must find the nearest town and get you where you belong."

"But I don't have a home."

"I will find you one."

Nevar turned back to where they entered the clearing, and the forest already teemed with the chatterings of curious creatures. They wondered who Crow was, how special, to be allowed on the back of the beast.

"Are they your friends?"

"I have no friends." Nevar snorted curls of black smoke.

Crow sighed forlornly. "That's sad."

"It is a condition of my existence."

"I'll be your friend." Crow rubbed the back of Nevar's neck. "So you're not lonely."

"I am not alone. I rule the forest."

"Everyone needs a friend."

Nevar huffed out a charmed laugh. "Do you have any?"

"Just you, I guess," Crow mumbled.

From somewhere far off, Nevar smelled a fire that was not their own. Fire made by human.

"There are some of your kind up ahead. Trespassers. Perhaps they are looking for you." Nevar carried on at a steady pace as the overlapping of men's voices traveled through the trees.

"I don't think so." Crow slouched.

Nevar stretched, their wings fluttering. "They must have good reason to be stepping their inferior feet in my territory."

"Can you fly?"

"What sort of useless question is that? I have wings, do I not?"

"Okay."

Nevar hushed him. "We are getting closer. Be silent."

Through the leaves, a group of men materialized. They wore long robes and held flaming torches. They spoke in hushed tones to one another, voices already shaking with fear.

"I don't recognize them, Dragon."

"Hmph." Nevar raised their head high, arching over the bushes that concealed them.

One by one, the men's heads turned. One by one, they shrieked. And one by one, they ran.

All but one, who was perhaps the most pertrified. Too scared to move.

He simply stood and shook with a face drained of blood. A thick leather-bound book was clutched to his chest as if it would save his life. Maybe he believed it could.

Nevar roared, "Who are you?"

"Please show mercy!"

"What business do you have in my forest?"

"I beg of you!" He dropped to his knees and held the book above his head.

Nevar chuckled, dark and throaty. "Do you know this child?"

Crow peeked from behind Nevar's neck, and the robed man screamed.

"Accursed child! You ride on this wicked back!" His words quivered and, finally, he ran.

"I told you. No one wants me." Crow's voice cracked. "I deserve to be alone out here."

"Is it not you, Child, who said I am not alone if I have a friend?" Nevar mused.

Crow laughed, all light and youth. "Are you saying we're friends?"

Nevar blinked slowly. "At least until morning."

"Will you teach me how to dragon?" Crow scaled Nevar's nick, making it to their head and sprawling between their horns.

"Perhaps." Nevar plodded deeper into the forest. "Though I think you may be too small."

"Didn't you used to be small?" Crow giggled at the thought.

"No." Nevar shook their head. Gently, as not to knock the child off. "I came into being like this."

"Can I learn how to fly?" Crow flapped his arms. "Woah." And steadied himself, hugging one of Nevar's horns.

"In one night? Impossible."

Crow looked up at the dense treetops. "What else can you do?"

"The reach of my abilities is unimaginable. My powers are endless and infinite."

"Show me!"

Nevar grumbled, but entertained obliging to the idea.

“I will take you to my home.”

Crow gasped in awe. “Do you live in the side of a mountain? With treasure?”

“Do not be foolish.” Nevar held their head high. “I live in a cave. And there is no treasure.”

“You sleep on bones, then?” Crow mused, holding on tight as Nevar took him to their home.

Nevar only groaned, and the pair went on the rest of their journey in silence.

Their home was grand, indeed, though not as Crow had expected. Flowering vines draped from the opening of the cave, creating a curtain of green and white and purple that fluttered in the breeze. Crow ducked as Nevar moved inside.

Sconces on the wall lit aflame when the dragon entered, draping the cave in soft light.

Nevar had no possessions; they were above material belongings.

The centerpiece of their home was their bed, a giant crater of soft moss.

“Not what you imagined, Child?”

“No.” Crow slid to the ground as Nevar lowered their head. “This is nice.”

Nevar chuckled, and it echoed off the wet stone walls.

“Now we sleep.”

Crow whined. “When will I learn how to fly?” He watched Nevar tread a circle around the pit before settling down.

Nevar curled up in bed, patting a spot beside them. “Dragons need their rest.”

“So I am a dragon.”

“Sleep, Child. We fly in the morning.”

Crow climbed down into the moss and lied down between Nevar’s massive clawed toes.

“In the morning, I’m a dragon.”

Nevar’s eyes fell closed, Crow’s followed, and they both dreamed of flying with a friend.