The Son of A Dragon Tamer

1000 Years Earlier

There weren’t always dragons in the valley. Crouched low, Nathanael rolled the dusty red clay between his thumb and pointer finger. If his calculations were accurate—and they usually were—it took them a few weeks to turn this lush hollow into useless clay. The marauded vegetation was flattened into dry heaps, uprooted by their pounding claws as they hunted whatever they could find. It would have been a meager feast and it would have been frustrating. Images of desperate dragons looking for food in this region flashed across his mind.

“Something wrong, tamer?” Rhys said.

“Yes.”

“Care to share?”

“If I knew.” Dragon tamers weren’t much for talking. Rhys knew that, but Rhys wasn’t a tamer. Nathanael wiped the red dust off on his grey travel trousers. “One thing is certain; they wouldn’t have come to this place were there another choice.”

Rhys froze, likely thinking what he was. What the hell could push dragons from their home?

“What will we do, tamer?”

“Find them. They’re stressed and they’re pillaging.”

Rhys beamed, alight with new adventure. “Will you tame them all?”

“Merlin, Rhys.”

Rhys ran a hand through his fire-orange hair. The sun made his freckles stand out. He was nearing thirty, but they give boyish softness to an otherwise sharp face.

“We’ll need more than us to bring them all back to the sanctuary.”

“You’ll tame one,” he said.

Refusing to answer that, he mounted his horse and kept an austere countenance.

Rhys hopped onto his horse not one bit sorry for his cheekiness. “Don’t be sore that I know you so well. It’s not like I need to be a prophet for that—we spend most of our time together.”

Nathanael smiled secretly. “True. The Gods have cursed me with your eternal presence.”

“Yeah, fine. Deny it, tamer.”

He would.

They rode at a medium place, tracking what Nathanael could feel of their essence in the air. All magic left a residue. Only dragon tamers could detect the residue of dragon magic with any certainty.

It was hours of riding over red dust and the hot sun making his insides stick together. With the trees gone, there was nothing to offer them shade and with the creek run dry there was no water either, other than what they had left in their canteens. A dragon’s magic could affect everything around it in positive and negative ways.

Wizards couldn’t plunder as much of the Earth’s energy all at once even though their magic worked in a similar way.

“We’ll stop here for the night,” he told Rhys who glanced at the barren space, taking a sweep of the land. He knew Nathanael wouldn’t choose this place to rest if there were a better one. “Just a few hours and then we’ll head for home.”

He nodded. Their horses won’t make it either without water. They’re pushing it, but if they turn around, they could make it back to the creek they’d stopped at yesterday.

Reaching out to the stale air, Nathanael grasped at any speck of energy he could find and tried to pull it into his dragon heart to amplify it. The human heart had a magnetic field that extended for a three-to-six-foot diameter outside of the body—and that’s for someone who was ungifted—a dragon tamer’s can span, at minimum, sixty feet. Any energy he collected; he could make it more.

If there was any damn energy to be had. He gathered what he could, storing it.

There would be no fire tonight, but they sat atop their bedrolls eating food from their packs once the horses were fed.

“You’re worried,” Rhys said. “I don’t like when you worry. It means it’s beyond bad.”

“Oh? Where did you come up with that theory?”

“You’re not prone to worry.”

“Nor is any other dragon tamer.” That’s not quite true. Dragon tamers worried about the people they loved.

“Doesn’t help your case if you’re trying to calm my worry.”

“Why would I want to do that? You should be worried.” The boy needed to be on guard. Placating fears out here wouldn’t serve him best.

“Well. Well I … never mind.” He tore off a strip of dried mango with his teeth.

The boy—who was no longer a boy—was looking for a father. Specifically, he was looking for his father. Him. He wanted to give the boy what he looked for, but Nathanael didn’t know how. He suspected Rhys knew of their relation from the day he showed on his doorstep with the claim he wanted work as aid to a dragon tamer. There wasn’t any such form of work and that’s what Nathanael told him.

“Why shouldn’t there be?” Rhys said. He was eighteen then.

Nathanael couldn’t think of a qualified response, and he didn’t want to. He’d recognized Aubrey in the boy’s indigo eyes and so he moved out of the way of the door and let the boy in. He’d been in Nathanael’s life ever since. For the life of him, he couldn’t conceive of a way to bring up the topic and neither could Rhys. They were too much alike.

“Are you looking for comfort?” Nathanael said.

“It wouldn’t kill you. There, there, Rhys. We’re not gonna die when a dragon returns to this pile of awful red dirt, where we you can’t rub two sparks of magic together to save our lives.”

“Nonsense,” Nathanael said, taking a sip of water. “No self-respecting dragon would return here.”

“Not helpful.” Rhys narrowed his eyes.

Nathanael smiled. “I don’t know about you, but I’ve had the foresight to collect energy as we go. Thought you’d be doing the same—or have you learned nothing in seven years?”

“I’ve been collectin’ like you showed,” he groused. “I always do what you tell me. I also know there isn’t enough for taming.”

“Because you’re a dragon tamer now?” He shakes his head. “Leave that part to me, lad.”

He wasn’t wrong, but he wasn’t right either. It did take a lot of magic to strike the bond, but dragon tamers had other tricks up their sleeves.

Nathanael laid out on his bedroll and pillowed his hands behind his head. The stars were winking at him, and the night seemed to creep up fast. “What would you do if you ever met your father?” he asked.

“I’d tell him he should comfort his only son. What if he dies? Doesn’t he want someone to remember him?”

“Your father won’t be the one who dies. I’ll bet he’s a lot cleverer than you are.”

It was as close as they’d come. There were other small things like this over seven years, but neither of them would take the plunge.

Nathanael rubbed his rough hands together, worn and beaten from long days taming dragons at the sanctuary.

“I’m not all mushy porridge up here,” Rhys said, frowning.

“Certainly not, Rhys. Your father would be very proud of you. Wherever he is,” Nathanael tacked on.

“Wherever he is,” Rhys agreed, and Nathanael did not miss the lift of his chest. “Shall I take the first watch, old man?”

Nathanael’s eyes were already closed, and he would take the bait, but he was feeling wearier today than usual. Besides mucking about in the heat, for the first time he might be in over his head. He knew a day like this would come—it was the lot for dragon tamers—but he didn’t want Rhys to pay the price for his folly.

Get out of this forsaken valley. Leave in a few hours.

Everything will be fine.

“Not even a scolding? Sir, c’mon. Tell me how incompetent I am. Tell me there needs to be four of me to one of you.”

“Five,” he said.

“Better.”

“Wake me in an hour and then you’ll get some sleep.”

~~~~~

The roar of dragon’s fire woke Nathanael from a dead sleep, and he only had time enough to cover them with a shield, using some of the magic he had left.

“No self-respecting dragon would return, eh?” Rhys said.

“I never said all dragons were self-respecting.” Nathanael could name a few dragons off the top of his head that were more trouble than they were worth most of the time. But you protect kin even if you’d like to strangle their scaled necks sometimes.

The dragon was a red kataline. Female. Her body moved like a seething ocean in wide waves across the sky away from them, circling back. At least the fire hadn’t reached the horses yet. “C’mon.”

Seizing the opportunity, Nathanael ran with Rhys at his heels as they made for the horses who were used to such things as dragons. They didn’t spook easy, but this was pushing it. As if they could hear his thoughts, one took off at a mad gallop.

Nathanael leaped, swinging a strong leg over the remaining horse, reaching for Rhys at the same time. He didn’t need Nathanael’s help and usually Nathanael wasn’t inclined to give it, but the gnawing that began when he set eyes on the red-dusted valley was eating through his stomach.

Rhys took the proffered hand without complaint and joined him on the horse, gripping him around the waist. At least the other horse was headed in the direction home. Not that it would matter much if they became feast for a hungry dragon.

“Do you have enough for a shield?” Nathanael asked.

“Course I do.”

“Merlin.” Nathanael rolled his eyes. “When she gets close, be ready. Forming a bond is slim here. If we can get outside of this dead area that would be ideal.”

Ideally, energy will move into the valley again. Hopefully soon.

Rhys nodded. “You can count on me, sir.”

“Good.” Maybe Nathanael couldn’t form a bond, but a connection long enough to talk to her, yes. If she’d allow it. Dragons could be as stubborn as dragon tamers.

Moonlight glinted off her red scales as she swept through the sky toward them. Under better circumstances, he would be delighted to go head-to-head with this magnificent creature.

He knew the moment before she would spit fire at him. Every dragon was different, just like every human was different, but there were patterns. A dragon tamer made it his or her business to read their body language.

He wasn’t going to let her throw anymore fire before he got his chance. He swept a quick gaze at his boy. His fire-orange hair remained as stiff peaks despite their lively pace. Nathanael’s hair was more red than orange, but he had orange highlights. It was a trait from his mother’s side. The dragon side they called it. Nathanael had inherited his dragon magic from her side.

It didn’t always pass on. It hadn’t for Rhys. He was still a damn good fighter and a powerful wizard.

Love for his boy helped the power of his dragon heart and gave it the boost he needed to amplify the energy he’d stored. He let it rush through him.

“Cover me,” he said to Rhys as he catapulted off the moving horse, tumbling in the air and then into a somersault finally landing ready to fight.

Rhys had seen him do things like that a thousand times, but he said it still gave him a heart attack despite Nathanael’s assurances that he’s a dragon tamer and they’re trained for that sort of thing.

With practiced skill, he released the magic he’d stored, going for her mind as though he were going to attempt a bond. Instead, he used a spell for another kind of mind connection, hoping she’d talk to him.

Dragons weren’t much for talking to wizards. Not with their history. Some wizards wanted to exterminate them. Not dragon tamers. Their legacy was to protect. It certainly wasn’t for glory.

He found his way in using the spell like a map and seized the attention of her mind.

Please speak with us, he said using the ancient dragon language. I am kin.

You are not my kin. You took my son. I will end you, tamer.

That … isn’t good.

Perhaps I can help you find him.

Nathanael got a blast of fire and thank Merlin for Rhys ready with a protective shield. Most wizards couldn’t deflect fire’s breath like that. Nathanael’s chest inflated with pride.

What’s his name? he tried again. The connection was still open, which meant she hadn’t blocked him despite trying to end him.

She turned and flew off, her tail snaking like a heavy whip. Catching the read of her movements, Nathanael swiveled and was long gone by the time it lashed where he’d stood.

“Well?” Rhys shouted.

“She flew off,” he said as if Rhys hadn’t seen.

“Yeah, but we’re not dead.”

“Because of your quick thinking.”

“Nothing was stopping her from letting go another blast.”

Or was it? Maybe she was running out of magic too? “C’mon.”

“You’re nuts. Completely fecking nuts.”

That might be true, but there were few options. They weren’t going to make it back without help or magic.

Together they galloped on their remaining horse toward the kataline.

What’s your boy’s name?

Get lost, tamer.

He wasn’t sure if she didn’t have enough magic to close the connection or if she wanted to be pushed. Either way, soon she’d be far enough away to pull more energy, enough to do what she needed.

This is my boy. Without your help, he’ll die. Don’t let him die because of an old fool.

A knot loosened. He’d told the truth to someone, and it felt good, and he realized that his primary concern was Rhys’s fate.

It was two wing beats later, but it came. Have you heard about Graygor?

Graygor … her son! He had heard about Graygor. That dragon had a bond with Tamer Rodney. I can help you, he promised.

Nathanael stopped the horse. She would either return or keep flying. If she kept flying, continuing to run their horse at breakneck speeds would only ensure they lost a second horse.

She kept flying. He dismounted and continued watching her until she was as speck in the sky.

“Didn’t go well, eh?” Rhys guessed.

“Could say that.” Nathanael huffed, but the one bonus to being blasted by fire was that fire was energy and he could take from it. “Gather your fill, son.”

“Are we about to die?” he asked.

“Why would you say something like that?”

“You called me son.”

“So? I have before.”

“You didn’t mean it like how you did now.” He stared at the ground. Anywhere but at Nathanael. “I thought we didn’t do that?”

He may not have dragon magic, but the boy had the spirit of a dragon. He could read things others would miss. “Did you want to, lad?”

“So, much,” he said, finally looking him in the eyes.

“I’m a terrible choice for a father.”

“I was under the impression it wasn’t something we chose. It’s not like you got to choose me either.”

“’Suppose not, but if I’d had any choice, I would have chosen you.”

Rhys smiled. “You would choose our dying day to get sappy on me. Stop it. We’re not dying.”

“Aren’t you supposed to say you would have chosen me too? I think you are.”

“I did choose you. I knocked on your door.”

Nathanael smirked. “And I let you inside. That’s got to count for something.”

“It does.”

~~~~

Nathanael’s mouth was dry, and his stomach told him about how displeased it was at him for not having eaten since the night before. It was too quiet. No birds. No insects. No wind rustling the grass. “This was why I didn’t want you finding me. A tamer’s life is no life for a child.”

He laughed. “Funny that. They’re building family homes on the sanctuary. I volunteered for the project.”

Nathanael wasn’t a fan of the idea. “It’s a lot of nonsense.”

“More than a child growing up without his father?”

“More than a child ending up dead. A dragon sanctuary is no place for a child.” Only master tamers got the vote, and it was a unanimous one. Nathanael wasn’t able to vote against it. Just voice his opinion loudly to whoever would hear him.

“Aye. I suppose we’ll maintain a different view on that one, but I promise not to poison your oatmeal over it.”

He could really go for some oatmeal with cinnamon and raisins. “I appreciate that.”

Nathanael’s skin prickled. “Brace yourself, lad.”

“I’ll cover again.”

The dragon was barreling toward them. If she’d come to finish the job, there wasn’t much he could do without enough magic. Running wasn’t an option, so they sat and waited for their pyre to begin.

Gracefully, she landed with heavy thuds and claws scraping the ground. If you were lying to me, tamer, I’ll destroy you and everyone you’ve ever loved.

So, you’ll help us? he said.

I’ll help you. How much longer can you last out here?

Nathanael did a quick calculation. “A few days,” he spoke aloud still keeping with the ancient language. It felt important for Rhys to see him interact with dragons. Now that she was willing to speak, he had no reason to force the words into her mind.

I have something I need to do. I will return long before then.

It was the best they were going to get. “We appreciate it. Do we get to know your name?”

Shakane. She lifted into the sky.

~**~

They stuck to the path home, which wasn’t much of a path at this point, just open space and the horrid dust. “What pushes a dragon out of hiding?”

He was asking to see if Rhys had come to the same conclusion. “Not much.”

“I can only think of one thing,” he said, but saying it felt blasphemous.

“A dragon tamer.”

“Do you really think…?” Rhys said, scratching his head. They were walking, giving the horse a break since the horse would have to run his way back when they left him to have any hope of surviving.

“I hope not.” Once bonded to a dragon, a tamer could control the dragon. It’s against every tamer code, but it could be done.

Rhys took a long breath and puffed it out. “Me too.”

As the heat rose and Nathanael wished for a tepid bath, the eerie emptiness of the valley seeped into him. “What will you do with your life, do you think?” he asked Rhys. “You can’t follow an old man around forever. You’ll want to start a family of your own.”

Family was important to Rhys. “Aye. Perhaps when the family units are built, someone will let me have a place and I can raise a family.”

“No. I’m telling you, boy, it’s no place.”

“That’s not just so you’ll feel better about leaving your own boy, is it?”

Nathanael glared. “It’s what I believe.”

But now that Nathanael knew Rhys, he regretted choosing dragons over his son. It was a foolish decision he made when he was young. For reasons he thought were good, yes, but it squeezed his chest to think he may never have known him.

“If I farmed pixies, would my children have a grandfather that would visit?”

Farming pixies required a lot of land. You needed a lot of space to grow the right trees so they could make their homes. Only happy pixie families produced enough dust worth selling.

“You don’t know the first thing about farming pixies, boy. Someone has to teach you. It might take me several leaves from the sanctuary just to get you started.”

Rhys smiled. “Well then. That’s settled.”

By midday, hope comes in the form of hitting ground that isn’t red dust. “D’yah see that, Rhys?”

Rhys was already rolling on the hard ground, sprinkling the damn dust everywhere and it was only then that Nathanael realized how full of the stuff they were. “Never thought I’d be so happy to see real dirt,” Rhys said.

There was energy to pull from the air now for magic. Not as much as they were used to, but enough it wrapped around him as a blanket of comfort.

“See? We’ll get home. You’re gonna have to help me raise pixies after all.”

Nathanael’s skin prickled. He turned. Blazing through the sky was a new dragon. He thought he saw a blue sheen glinting off the scales, but that can’t be. A war dragon?

“Ready with a shield,” he snapped, but couldn’t help his fascination. As the dragon came into view, the iridescent blue glistened. He was magnificent.

He landed with a ker-thud like a mountain-sized boulder and before Nathanael could form a greeting, a rider slipped off the back, sliding down the tail and doing a hop flip to land before Nathanael.

“Tamer Sheila?”

She’d led a hunt deep into the North Mountains after a tip on an ice dragon. That was a month ago.

“Hello, Tamer Westley,” she said. Sheila had long black hair and deep brown eyes. She was a behemoth of a tamer with muscles that could compare to Nathanael’s.

The dragon thrashed his head, struggling. Bonded dragons didn’t do that unless … “What have you done?”

“This isn’t just any dragon,” she said. “He needs to be controlled.”

“I can’t claim to know much about this dragon—no—but this isn’t what we do.”

“Isn’t it? This dragon needs to be enslaved. You saw what happened to this valley. A war dragon can take everything. We have to find his kin and bend them to our will.”

Nathanael wasn’t doing that. Rhys saddled up beside him. “Let the dragon go,” Rhys said.

“You’re not a tamer. You don’t belong in this discussion.”

“Dragon are my kin as much as they are yours. I may not have the magic, but I have the spirit.”

“Meaningless,” she said. “We’ll see what good that does for you when I command Ruzzar to turn you into a pile of wizard’s ash.”

Rhys set his jaw. Nathanael could imagine the thoughts of murder that laid there. Maybe he didn’t have a dragon heart, but he showed the restraint of someone who did.

“I don’t know what happened to you, Tamer Sheila. Let’s return to the sanctuary and talk about this.”

Nathanael checked for the skies, hoping to spy a flash of red. Sheila didn’t intend for him to return.

“Do you know what a war dragon can do?” she asked. “Here, I’ll show you.”

Dammit.

She didn’t have to voice her commands aloud since she controlled the poor beast’s mind.

“Cover yourself, lad,” Nathanael shouted as he shouldered the gust from the massive wings that took the blue dragon into the air.

Such a shame. It wasn’t the dragon’s fault, but one of them was going to get hurt. Nathanael wasn’t going to let it be him or Rhys. The energy in the air was limited, but it was enough. He pulled as much as he could to him, filling his heart with it, amplifying and releasing a spell in the form of a blast toward the war dragon.

The fool boy didn’t leave him as he should have—too much of me in that one—but stayed to shield him as he always did. Nathanael bounded and spun away using his powerful legs. He twirled and jousted with magic. His long red hair whipped like flames. His boots chipped at the hard ground and slid into the red dust.

Nathanael worked to get a sense of him. The dragon seemed to dance a war cry. He rolled in the air with purpose and struck with fury. He used his blue flames only when he thought he stood a chance at burning Nathanael to a crisp.

He needed to sever the bond with Sheila, which was difficult with a dragon trying to kill him.

Nevertheless, Nathanael knew what he had to do. The damage Sheila had done in abusing her power over the dragon could undo the centuries of work dragon tamers had spent building good relationships with their dragon kin. He had to set Ruzzar free without trying for the bond.

He spared a glance to Rhys who nodded. He understood. It might mean the end of them, but this was too important.

All right then. Bring it.

The heat from the flames roared. Sweat poured off his brow in rivulets that soaked his beard. He kept magic at the ready, glowing in his hands, shooting off spells with maximum effect while keeping his magic cost low.

Level of skill wasn’t his problem. Breaking a connection between tamer and dragon was near impossible.

Nathanael used magic to make his pounce more buoyant, landing near Rhys. “I know you can’t fight a dragon, but you can distract one, yeah?”

Rhys smirked as he easily constructed another shield. Yeah. He was Nathanael’s son. “Do your thing, tamer.”

Rhys sprinted away, antagonizing the dragon. He couldn’t form bonds with dragons, but he could toss spells at one and piss it off.

Nathanael turned his attention to Sheila.

“Last chance,” he said.

They stood frozen. Part of dragon taming was waiting. Any physical shift was like giving instructions to a tamer.

Tamer Sheila had enslaved a war dragon—no easy feat. She was no one to underestimate.

He banked on having more patience than she did. He was right.

She responded with a minute change in her posture, enough to give her away to someone like Nathanael. He took the opening, targeting her mind. She did the same in return. They’d barely moved for a long time, attacking with magic, but they were tiring. Especially Nathanael who was dehydrated and sleep deprived.

Rhys was slowing too. That he’d kept up this long spoke of his stubborn Westley will.

Ruzzar’s tail whipped too rapidly. Rhys sailed across the hard ground, landing with a sickening crunch. It broke Nathanael’s concentration. Shelia seized the opportunity to toss him out of her mind and send Ruzzar after him.

Rhys wasn’t moving. For a full heartbeat, Nathanael didn’t know how to move his feet.

But then his heart filled with love, and he sucked as much energy from the world as he could.

A dragon doesn’t want to be controlled. The link would be weaker in the dragon’s mind.

Finding the path with his magic, he latched on, twisting like he was untying the world’s tiniest knot. Nathanael yanked with all his might.

When the bond broke, Sheila fell.

The war dragon was free and would hopefully leave. Nathanael ran to kneel by Rhys’s unconscious form. “My boy.”

Nathanael did his best with the few healing spells he knew, but Rhys needed a real healer.

The dragon landed next to him. “Tamer,” Ruzzar said. Some dragons could converse in human. “Let me help.”

He didn’t know why the dragon would help after what Sheila had done.

When Rhys lit up with a white glow, he knew the dragon worked on him. He’d never known a dragon to have healing powers.

Rhys sat up dazed as if he’d only been sleeping. “You thought I couldn’t occupy a dragon, I’ll bet,” he said.

Nathanael smiled.

“My debt is paid. Farewell, Tamer.” Ruzzar took to the sky.

Nathanael only had eyes for Rhys, pulling his son to him.

And then blood.

New blood. And pain ripping through his body.

“Tamer? Tamer, no,” Rhys shouted.

“You fool. You have no idea what you’ve done,” Sheila said, holding his life in her hands—a spell to hemorrhage everything. He bled out quickly. “Now he’s unleashed upon the world.”

With the last of his strength, he used a mortal spell, spilling Sheila’s insides to the outside, splashing crimson onto the clay dust.

Nathanael collapsed.

Rhys worked on him as best he could, but Nathanael was slipping away. Rhys could sew and patch him up with magic but blood could not be replenished with magic.

“No. No! It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” Rhys said.

Nathanael spied a flash of red in the sky and his heart lifted. He forced himself to smile.

“You don’t need to tag after an old man anymore. Live your life, Rhys.” Nathanael’s voice was weak.

“I was,” he sobbed. Rhys’s rib cage shook. “There was still so much for us to do.”

Shakane landed near them. Dragon Tamer. Am I too late?

“For me, yes. My boy will take you to Graygor.”

“I’m not leaving you here,” Rhys said.

Shakane tilted her head. She could read his body language. He’s upset, Tamer. What should I do?

He turned to Rhys. “Don’t be stubborn. Go with the dragon. Make your stupid family housing and then an attempt at a pixie farm,” he said.

It pulled a laugh from him. “If I’m stubborn, it’s because the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. You’re coming with me, Dad.”

Dad.

He gestured toward the dragon for help and Shakane used her tail to assist Rhys getting Nathanael on her back.

When Shakane took to the sky, Nathanael could barely keep his eyes open. “Rhys?” he murmured. “I’m leaving.”

Rhys sniffled. “I know, Dad.” He held onto Nathanael’s jacket and squeezed him.

“I love you, Rhys.”

“I know, Dad.”

“Will you take my name onto yours?”

“I’ll take your name period. I’ll have so many damn rug rats to pass it on, okay? Just rest. You deserve to rest now.”

They had so much left to do. The Council. They needed to know about the war dragon and Sheila. Maybe he should tell Rhys that too, but nothing worked anymore. Was he still on the dragon? Or was he part of the sky now?

He felt something—still on the dragon then—a hand through his red Westley hair.

And then he spread into the breeze.