The Pandora Dragon

There weren't always dragons in the Valley. Not until him.

The dragons long since abandoned the Fae Folk. But here he is. Here he has been for the last 286 days.

Dust floats around my feet. My breath quickens and I feel a bead of sweat trickle down my forehead.

Gods, Mr Mervin is going to kill me if I’m late. Again.

My steps get faster and the sound of a twig snapping under my feet echoes through the dense forest, sending birds fluttering into the sky. With my Fae hearing I can hear each flap of their wings. My deep green, lace cloak whips behind me in the early morning summer breeze. The forest is rich with life, moss covers most of the ground, except where my steps for my daily journey to and from the village have worn a path.

I pause just before the edge of the forest. I know he’s out there. He’s always out there. I take a moment. Just one moment. To prepare myself. I hate him. I hate seeing him, his piercing green eyes. His intense stare always put me on edge, he looks at me like at any moment he’ll pounce and I’ll be breakfast. I would give anything not to go out there. To never see him. Never cross paths with him. Unfortunately, Mr Mervin’s office is right across the valley, and I have to walk through the valley morning and evening, five days a week and cross paths with him. The dragon.

No-one knows where he came from. Why he came. But he’s always there now. Watching. Waiting. But for what, I have no idea.

I’m too late to wait another moment. It won’t help anyhow. I step into the vast clearing of the valley. Luscious green grass covers the expanse. Vibrant, colourful wildflowers nestle themselves in between the tall grass. The sun is just starting to rise in the horizon. The view takes my breath away every single morning. I barrel down the hill, taking care not to trip. I can’t risk losing my guard and being vulnerable around him. The intense sun is already starting to make the air too warm. But I have no time to stop and take off my cloak. Even if I couldn’t hear his wings swooping through the sky, I can feel his stare. The hair on the back of my neck rises. The heat from his gaze threatens to burn me. But I don’t look up. I have no desire to see his enormous, sleek, black body circle above me. Eyeing me like prey. I weave through the valley and at this point I’m practically gasping for breath. I glance up at the sky, the sun has fully risen over the Pandora mountains, and I have to hoist up my dress and break into a run because Mr Mervin really is going to kill me. The flowing grass tickles my exposed calves.

Suddenly, the ground shakes violently from underneath me and I lose my footing. I land painfully on my backside, scuffing my hands on the ground. The sky goes dark above me. I glance up to see that the sky hasn’t suddenly gone dark. And it wasn’t an earthquake that caused the ground to shake. I see those piercing green eyes peering down at me. The dragon sits at least 11 foot tall. He wraps his long black scaly tail around him, and it brushes my leg. A wave of goosebumps covers every part of my skin he just touched, but I don’t look down. My eyes are locked firmly with his. My mouth is instantly dry. My heart threatens to beat out of my chest. But I try not to let it show. I try to keep my fear from showing on my face.

“You could watch where you land,” I spit with a confidence I don’t feel. Thankfully my voice remains free of the tremors coursing through my body.

His eyes on me narrow. I go to push myself up, but a sharp pain prevents me from putting any weight on my left wrist. My eyes shoot to my wrist, and I slowly lift it up and cradle with my other hand.

“Brilliant,” I mutter. A sore wrist is not going to serve me well at Mr Mervin’s antique store or the tavern I work at during the night. My family can’t afford for me to take time off from work. My sisters Lyra and Luci are too young to work. Even if they weren’t, there’s no way I’d let them drop out of school. Their education is far too important. And they’re so smart. They have a real chance at living a more comfortable life. And although my brother is 16 now, Dean is too ill to work. That leaves me having to work two jobs to feed four mouths, keep a roof over our heads and afford Dean’s herbs. He’s too ill without his herbs. He’s too dangerous without his herbs.

Just grin and bare it Mal. Like you have your whole life.

I look back up to see the dragon still watching me intently. I stand up and go to storm around him, but he blocks my path. I try going the other way, but he moves and blocks that path too. I think he really may be about to eat me but if he’s going to eat me he could at least hurry up and do it. This dance is intensely irritating.

“What,” I hiss, “is your problem?” My temper seems to have dulled my fear momentarily.

The dragons’ eyes twinkle. They look almost amused. He lowers his head until his face is right in front of mine. He’s definitely about to bite my head off. I feel his hot breath brush against my cheeks. His gaze snags on my necklace, it’s a golden pendant of, would you believe it, a dragon. Lyra, Luci and Dean brought it for me for my 20th birthday. I have no idea how they managed to get enough money to buy it. It had been the first present I had ever received for my birthday since my parents disappeared. When I follow his gaze and look down at the necklace, I don’t even see the necklace. I see Lyra and Luci’s little faces, eyes wide with excitement. And Dean’s smile. Full and unrestrained, dimples on full display. A smile we don’t see much anymore. When I look back up at the dragon I find that he is no longer staring at the pendant but staring at me. When he finds me noticing his gaze he quickly lowers his head even further and blows on my left hand. His warm breath coats my skin. I feel a buzz vibrate through my hand. I glance down to find sparkling gold whirls wrap themselves around my hand. I hadn’t known dragon’s had magic. I don’t really know much about dragons actually. No-one does. After a few moments the magical, golden whirls fade. I roll my wrist to find it completely healed. I’m about to thank the dragon, even though the injury was his fault to begin with, but I notice some of the dragon’s golden magic hasn’t vanished. It’s absorbed into my skin. A golden crescent moon glistens at the base of my wrist. I go to brush it off with my other hand, but it won’t come off. It’s a part of my skin now. A part of me.

“What have you done?” I ask, glancing back up at him. I don’t know what I’m expecting. I know he can’t speak.

He looks at me for a moment longer, any amusement I thought I saw earlier has vanished, and then he shoots back off into the sky. Very nearly toppling me over again.

“Asshole.”

I pick the ends of my light, grey dress and continue to run to Mr Mervin’s Antique store. Damn. He’s so going to kill me.

I push open the door panting for breath. I hear the familiar ding of the bell triggered by the door opening and I am welcomed to the sight of chaos. Mr Mervin like to assure me that he has a very specific, very well organised method to the complete mess of the antique store that only he can make any sense of. ‘A method to the madness’ he likes to say to me. I’ve spent years trying to convince him to let me organise his shop. Properly organise it, not this ‘organised chaos’ method of organisation. But I have tried to no avail. I’ve worked here since I was 13. Since my parents disappeared. And I have learnt that Mr Mervin is not fond of change. Even if it is a change for the better.

I clamber through the array of treasures, most of them stacked in tall towers, lined on not so sturdy shelves. Books, jewellery, goblets, trinkets and many more items fill the room. I round to Mr Mervin’s back-room office.

“Mal. You are 22 minutes and 14 seconds late. That’s even later than the 15 minutes and 53 seconds late you were last Tuesday.”

“I know Mr Mervin. I’m sorry. I’ll stay late and make my time up.”

“That’s not enough. I’ll be docking you an hours pay as well.”

“No. Mr Mervin. Please. You can’t do that. I’ll make it up to you. Just don’t dock me pay. I need the money,” I plead, peering into his wrinkled brown eyes. He runs his fingers through his long white beard. He purses his lips and I know I’ve got him on the ropes. Mr Mervin might pretend to be a mean old grouch but he and I both know he’s actually a big old softy.

“Fine,” he murmurs. “But don’t let it happen again.” I give him a big smile and a small blush fills his cheeks. Quickly, he turns around and starts rifling through the papers on his desk. His desk, which is somehow even more cluttered than the rest of the store. I make my way back to the front desk and start updating the books on our recent sales.

By the end of the day my fingers are sliced with scores of fresh papercuts. I close the register and call to the back, "Good night, Mr Mervin. I'll see you tomorrow. I'll be on time, I promise." I leave the threshold of the antique store and the bell dings my goodbye. The sun is now beginning to set over the Pandora mountains behind me. The half moon glows brightly in the crisp dawn sky. I briskly make my way through the cobblestone streets of the tiny village where Mr Mervin’s shop is located. Right at the base of the Pandora mountains, at the peak of the valley. I’ve been so busy all day trying to make it up to Mr Mervin I haven’t had time to check the mark the dragon’s magic had left in my skin. I glance down and see a shimmering golden crescent moon still tattooed there. But I don’t have time to dwell on it. I round another corner and enter the tavern I work at during the evenings. It doesn’t tend to get busy until after sunset and there are currently only a few of the regulars dotted around.

“Evening Mal, Gregor hasn’t turned up for his shift tonight. You’ll be on your own.”

I roll my eyes, but I don’t really mind. I get extra pay when he’s not here and do practically the same amount of work.

“Okay, thanks for letting me know.” She leaves and heads upstairs to her living quarters above the tavern.

I’m pouring one of the regulars his usual order when the doors open, letting the cool night air in. A group of Fae males enter, and I immediately recognise them. Brilliant. Kit walks through and his eyes directly find mine. His curly brown hair is ruffled from the wind. His cheeks slightly pink. His full lips give me a small smile which I don’t bother to return. I hate seeing him here. I hate having to serve him and his new friends. Hate having to watch as he goes home with other Fae or Human women. But this is the only tavern in the village, the next one is a two-day hike, and they’d have to go through the valley. Most people avoid crossing the valley at all costs since the dragon’s arrival. I’m the only one who does it on such a regular basis. They sit in a booth right in front of me, “Evening Mal,” they call but most of them don’t bother to look my way.

“Evening,” I call back, putting on my overly positive work voice.

Kit walks over, shoving his hands in his pockets. I’m facing away from him, getting another customer their drinks but I can see him in the mirror covering the wall. Our eyes meet again, and I say, “What can I get you?” In that same mock cheerful voice, but my eyes don’t hold any joy in seeing him and from the look on his face, he knows it. I spin around and finish serving my customer. Once I’m done, I stand directly in front of Kit. Since he didn’t answer the first time I say again, “What can I get you?” but I don’t bother feigning cheer this time. I tap my fingers on the bar, impatient to get this conversation over with. He swallows slowly and my eyes drop to his throat at the movement. I see the peaks of his tattoo poking out from under his collar. He shifts uncomfortably and I whip my gaze away from him. “A round of your best ale,” he blurts. I look back at him. My brows raise. That stuff is pricey.

“What’s the occasion?” I ask and immediately regret it. I don’t want to know anything about Kit or his life anymore. But it’s too late, the words already flew out of my mouth, like they had a mind of their own.

“I got a job. I’ll be travelling with a crew to the Alara mountains. We’re going to retrieve something for the crown.”

My eyes widen. That’s not just any job. That’s a life changing job. But there’s a reason the pay for a job like that would be so high. It’s because it’s a dangerous job. Very few go into the Alara mountains and come out alive.

“Oh, wow. Well, congratulations. One round of our best ale coming up.” I give him an attempt at a genuine smile. From the smile on his face, he’s clearly happy about this news. Gods, did he have to have such a beautiful smile.

“Yeah. I’ll be gone for 6 months but once I’m back I’ll be set for life.” His smile widens and my traitorous heart flutters. I busy myself with readying their drinks and try to avoid looking at him. Turns out his smile hurts even more than him ignoring me. Another large group of Fae males enter the tavern and give me the excuse I need to avoid Kit and his friends as best I can for the rest of the night.

It's been 20 minutes since the tavern closed and everyone left. I’ve just finished cleaning up and I turn out the lights. In the dark, the moon on my wrist glows brightly. I tug my sleeve down to try to cover the intense light. I wrap my cloak around me and step out onto the street. A streetlamp to my right flickers, drawing my attention. I quickly turn back around to lock up and get home. I hate leaving my siblings for so long, but they need me to work more than they need me to be there. Even if they don’t always understand that.

The sound of shuffling behind me has me whirling around. I find Kit stood right behind me. The flickering streetlamp reflects on his cheek. Even in the limited light, I can see the slight glaze in his eye from the ale.

“Kit,” I start, jumping slightly.

The corners of his lips tug up as he says, “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t lurk in the shadows of dark streets.” I bite. My false smiling persona well and truly disappearing. My attitude makes his smile faulter.

“Mal, I’m sorry.” His face is solemn now. It makes him look so much older than 21.

I know he’s not just talking about scaring me just now. He’s talking about what happened between us. About what he did.

“It’s fine,” I say, my voice cold, icy. “It was a long time ago.” Some may not consider 3 years a long time ago, but it feels like a lifetime ago.

He steps closer and goes to stroke my cheek. I place my hands on his chest and shove him away from me. Hard.

“Don’t,” my eyes are already starting to well with tears. “Please,” I plead, my voice breaking.

“Mal, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-”

“Just leave me alone Kit.” I storm past him and wind my way through the village.

“Mal wait,” he calls after me and I hear his steps getting closer.

I don’t want to see him. I don’t want to talk to him. I don’t want to cry in front of him. I quicken my pace until I’m practically running. I make my way out of the village and run through the valley. The stary night sky and the moon are my only sources of light. I hardly spare a thought for the dragon. Hopefully he’ll be fast asleep by this hour. I hear loud footsteps getting nearer to me. I try to run faster but it’s no use. He’s too fast. I glance over my shoulder, and he goes to grab my arm. A line of fire shoots between us.

“Ahh,” Kit hisses pulling his arm back. A wall of fire flares between us but I can make out the pain etching his features as he cradles his hand. I turn to see the dragon stalking towards us. His eyes, lethal slits, focussed on Kit. The dragon gets closer and positions himself between Kit and I. It takes me a moment to realise what’s just happened. What’s happening. The dragon’s protecting me.

The fire begins to wither out and I walk around to stand in front of the dragon. Positioning myself between Kit and the Dragon. The dragon drags his stare away from Kit and peers down on me. When he looks at me his eyes become more like those I’ve become accustomed to. Large and an endless green.

“It’s okay,” I breath and the dragon’s eyes go back to Kit, narrowing.

“Really,” I chuckle at the absurdity of the situation, “he’s not going to hurt me.”

The dragon huffs, steam coming out of his nose, but he makes no move to attack Kit.

I turn back around to look at Kit. His brown eyes are wide. His jaw slack. He’s still cradling his wrist.

“Go home,” I say.

He looks at me and pain fills his eyes.

“Mal I-”

“Leave.” I command, leaving no room for discussion. Kit glances between the dragon and me. He doesn’t move for a few moments. But then he shakes his head, his brown curls bouncing as he says softly, “Only you would make friends with the dragon.” I’m not going to argue and tell him the dragon and I certainly are not friends. That I have absolutely no idea why the dragon is protecting me or what it did to me earlier. I only stand their unmoving as he turns and makes his way back to the village. Back to his home. After he’s disappeared from sight, I focus on my current predicament. I can feel the dragon’s hot breath on my back. Given that he marked me earlier when he helped me, I have a terrible feeling that he’s going to do something in return for his help this time too. My stomach knots and I steel my resolve as I find the courage to turn back around to face him.

He's still sat their peering down at me, looking far too proud of himself.

“Thank you for your help, but you didn’t need to intervene. I can handle Kit.” I assure him, hoping it will help my case.

“This,” I say, rolling up my sleeve, exposing my bare wrist, the moon on my wrist glowing as brightly as the moon in the sky, but glowing gold instead of silver. “Get rid of it.”

The dragon continues staring at me, tilting his head slightly as he assesses my luminous wrist.

“Well.” I push, waiting for him to get rid of it. But he does nothing. Very well. I tug my wrist back towards me and race back home. I exit the valley and weave through the dense forest. Most find the forest eerie at night, but I love it. It’s home. Tiny pixies dart around the trees, their range of colours from orange to blue, pink to white. The forest comes alive at night. Red and white mushrooms glow, twooting owls and the trickling from the river fill the air. My siblings love the forest as much as I do. We’ve spent our whole lives in this forest. We know every tree, every place the river ebbs and flows, every good hiding spot. Right in the middle of the forest is our cottage. I stop for a moment to admire it. It’s not much but I love it. It’s special. It’s the one thing mum and dad left for us before they disappeared. The thatched roof desperately needs tending to, the front door is old, and the green paint is peeling off, the glass windows do very little to keep us warm in the winter, the stone walls crumble slightly. But it’s beautiful nonetheless. A smile plasters my face.

I open the front door and my joy at being home immediately falters. The house has been ravaged. No. Gods no. There are chairs thrown everywhere, claw marks shredding the walls, and I can smell blood.

“Lyra! Luci!” I bellow as I scramble up the stairs looking for them, unsheathing my silver knife from my thigh. They know to hide in their closet if this ever happens. But when I see the state of upstairs, I know that hiding wouldn’t have helped. The door has been shredded and ripped off its hinges. I take the briefest moment to prepare myself for what I might see when I enter their room. My whole body trembling as I enter the room. I see blood smeared on the carpet and my vision blurs. I feel as though I may pass out, but I know that’s not an option. There’s no-one in the room. I search the closet but they’re not there. I let out a breath I didn’t know I had been holding. They made it out. They escaped. The breeze from the window snags my attention and I see how they got out. I go to the window and see rope tied to the bed post leading out to the garden. They’re out there. In the forest. I run down the stairs and step back out into the forest. Sniffing I notice I can still smell the faintest scent of blood. I follow that smell as I enter the dense forest, trying to think where they would have gone.

Knife still in hand, I start my search for my sisters.

I start my hunt for my brother.