People of the Dragons: The Last of the Kind Pg 1

           If there was a time of peace before all this death and hiding, I wouldn't know. Since a young child I had two options, hide or fight. It was all we could do to survive the hunters. I had heard stories though; stories of a time when things were calm and balanced. My people served as guardians in that time. Kingdoms from any land could hire us to protect them and aid them. It was how we made our living. We had no home, really, but didn't mind. Everyone was generous and hospitable to us. It was funny that kingdoms and peoples would fight against each other and yet my people could fight for either side. No one had any quarrels with us. Mostly because we were the strongest of the Magical Beings and we knew it.



          Our strength wasn't flaunted though, it was used to keep peace throughout the divided lands. We were respected by all and cared for all in return. That was a long time ago. Only stories and memories served of that time now. So long ago, nearly forgotten. A time before the Uprising. It was called that because that was when our perfect world shattered and the respect was lost. There are two kinds of people in my world, Magical Beings and Non Magical Beings. It was the Non Magical Beings who started it all. They were known as Non Magical for just that reason.
         They couldn't wield magic, feared magic, and had a hard time understanding it too. The people of this culture also had very simple bodies. No abstract colors, no significant abilities; they had the simple shades of brown and tan for skin, some lighter, some darker, and the natural colors of blacks, blondes, and reds for hair. Their best strength was their minds, which they used to invent weapons and magnificent buildings to protect their fragile bodies. It made up for not having magic. They called themselves human and, though Magical Beings had very similar anatomy to them, refused us to be human as well. The Non Magical's had a king, James the Brave, who had been rather young for a king. His black hair and similar black eyes gave him a menacing look.
        Some say it was his youth or maybe his ambition to rule all, but one day King James declared war against the Magical Beings. He allied himself with a group called the Hunters. Hunters alone weren't a big threat. They were usually heavily built men with a desire to hunt things down and kill them for fun. They were remarkable at their trade, but didn't have the funding nor resources to hunt as much as they would please. The King fixed that. Allied together, they started the war with a heavy blow. The hunters would hunt down all and any Magical Beings and destroy them. At first my people fought back, but between corruption in the Magical Kingdom and the ever growing number of Hunters, defeat was inevitable. Genocide of our species could only then be avoided by one thing, hiding. Some still fought, but the only thing I had ever known was lurking bellow cover, where the hunters wouldn't find us. The peace had been broken and the land broke into chaos.


         I wasn't sure if my heart could thump any louder. The trees spun past me as I ran, faster than I had ever ran, with the threat of death upon me. The only thing that filled my ears was the roar of blood in them and the distant, ever growing closer, sound of barking. Mad barking. The kind of barking you would only hear from a dog, more so beast, that had tasted blood. I had been careful. Mother always told me to be careful if I ever came down from our treehouse, safely concealed by the huge oaks. She had gone out to hunt and search for father and though I was afraid to go outside I was more afraid to be left alone. So I had ventured down to look for her. I was so sure that she hadn't gone far and that it was safe. But then again, I had forgotten how stealthy hunters could be. I hadn't seen them in time, crouching there in the brush with their harsh eyes and painted faces to match the dark forest.
       One more step...Just one more. My legs had turned to jello as if they didn't belong to my body anymore. The moonlight broke through the trees in all its harshness, keeping me in spot light for the murderers behind me to see. I knew I was fast. Faster than those dogs and much faster than the hunters, who were Non Magical, but how long could I hold out? The dogs were persistent, almost as persistent as their masters, and even if I could outrun them I couldn't run forever. They would find me collapsed, my exhaustion already having done the job they had planned to do. A fog had moved in yesterday and still clung to the woods, drifting lazily past the thick oaks. Their dark bark whizzed past me in a blur as I sprinted, dodging trees, to a destination I knew not. It was a cruel trick of fate that I let my attentiveness slip for just a moment, letting into the panic that engulfed me, and I tripped over a gnarled root that seemed to purposefully twist over my path.
        I rolled and rolled, dirt getting into my mouth as I tore up the moss and grass. This was the end. I was going to be torn up by those massive beasts, their wild eyes already boring in on me. If the Hunters didn't let the beasts get me, they were sure to finish the job themselves. How would they do it? Slowly? The thought made the fight in me ignite again. I tried to get to my feet, but after the tumble I was discombobulated and found my feet not listening to my brain. As long as I waited for those dogs though, they didn't come and neither did the Hunters. I carefully looked around, my senses coming back to me. The air smelled lightly of musky night smells; dirt, cold air, fungus. The forest around me was still and quiet. I listened so intently that I began to hear a ringing in my ear, but no sound of stomping feet or fierce barking.
         "Jane? Jane!" The voice made a relief flush through me that nearly sent tears to my golden eyes. I turned my head to see Mother rushing for me. Her cloths were slightly torn and I wondered if she had fought off my predators. Her arms wrapped around me, shaking slightly. "I thought I'd lost you...I heard the barking and then I didn't see you back at the treehouse." He light voice shook too. I held onto her hands as they locked at my chest. I couldn't speak. My breath was sucking in so quickly it felt as though there wasn't enough air in the world.
          "I'm...I'm okay." Somehow the words gushed out. My eyes still flashed out into the dark trees, scanning the area for what I still thought might jump out.
           "We need to get home...your Father lead off that bunch of Hunters but there could be more." I felt my heart skip. Father was the one who fought off the Hunters? I felt guilt sweep over me. If he didn't return home...If Mother and I never saw him again it would be all my fault. My fear's fault. My head spun as Mother lead me home. Her arms never left me and I was glad, for I wasn't sure if I would be able to stand on my own two feet. The oaks all looked the same, but from living here I knew which one held our little treehouse. It had two distinct gouges in the side, which served as foot holds to get to the branches. The adrenaline was all that carried me through that climb. I used my last sap of energy, counting the branches until I finally saw our makeshift little home. It rested in the crook of two thick branches, held there with tied vines and wooden planks. I pulled the thin curtain that covered the boxed entrance aside, and slipped in.
            Father wasn't there. The soft fabric and furs that lined the bottom were still warm from when we had all sat in here earlier. I looked toward mom as she clambered in. Her brows were furrowed with anxiety. She was worried about dad too. My guilt was worsened by that fact. If only I had stayed in the treehouse like I was supposed too. If only I hadn't been too afraid.  We would all be safe. The Hunters wouldn't have seen me. They still would be completely oblivious that we were here. The night stretched on and Mother and I sat huddled in the corner of the small room, listening to the silence outside.
            "It's my fault." I finally had to say, my voice cracking as the words were admitted.
             Mother stroked my jet black hair gently. "He'll be fine. Don't worry about it." She had a soothing tone but I could hear her heavy breathing beside me, similar to that of a corner mouse. I started desperately wanting Father to get home to the point where I thought I heard his foot steps, but realized each disappointing time that it was only my imagination. Apart of me came to the undeniable conclusion that he was dead. The thought shocked me so much that I started to weep.
            "Why are you crying?" A deep voice drifted in through the still air, shattering my grief. It was Father. He squeezed in through the square entrance, blood dripping down his brow. I pulled away from Mother and nearly tackled him as he slumped down on the soft carpeting. He hardly had the strength to hug me back.
            "I thought you were...Its all my fault that this happened! I'm so sorry!" I buried my face into the crook of his shoulder and neck, ashamed of how much danger I had put us all in. I had been careless. I had been told time and time again that in times like these there was no room for carelessness. Father finally lifted his arms to hold me and stroke my hair.
             "Listen to me now..." He pulled me back enough to look into my face. "You can't be putting yourself in danger like that. Hunters are everywhere. That must be assumed at all times." I nodded vigorously, watching the scarlet blood drip down his face. There were other wounds on his body, but he ignored them. "We have to live because our people must survive. We're still guardians and one day we must restore the peace." I took in his details; snow white skin with the faintest pattern of faded scales, fiery golden eyes, jet black hair that was perfectly straight and spiked slightly by nature, pointed ears that extended slightly farther than an elf's, and teeth with sharp canines. We all looked the same. The only difference was men had short hair and women had long hair and the differences of individual features.
              I had heard stories of our kind and how they came to be. Before, dragons roamed the earth freely. They had a savage nature and would hunt and kill anything that moved. Their power was magnificent yet untamable. Everyone had to live in fear of the huge beasts. It was a bet among wizards that the creatures couldn't be tamed by anyone, not even the strongest of wizards. Many tried, but failed and were fated with flame related deaths. One though, approached things with a unique idea. Tame the dragons power in a container like way. With a powerful spell, the wizard cursed all dragons. Their spirits were infused with a people that worshipped them, a small tribe that were called People of the Dragons. From then on, the dragon spirits were trapped within those people and passed on through the generations. They became the most powerful people and instead of destroying things, protected things. They became guardians. That was the story at least.
              I promised Father I would never put myself or anyone else in danger again. He smiled at me and I watched through the night as his wounds healed themselves. By morning, they would hardly be noticeable.


         
              Of course, after something like that we had to move locations. Once the Hunters knew where you were, it was never safe to stay in that spot. They would come again and would multiply. I couldn't remember how many times we had moved. Once we lived in the mountains, another time in a desert like land, another in a swamp...My mind buzzed with remembering. Mother had rolled up all our carpeting and had shoved them in the sack she had made. Father disassembled the treehouse and scattered its remains. He always said it was best to show no evidence that you were ever there. I agreed. Hunters were excellent trackers and would pick up even the slightest details.
              "Where are we going this time?" I asked every time we left to somewhere new, but I had grown accustomed to a shrug as an answer to that question. Mother gave me a handful of raspberry's she had plucked for me to eat. I choked them down. Meat was my fancy. Berries wouldn't give me the nutrients my muscled body needed to keep going but it was better than having an empty stomach and being crippled by hunger pains.
              I had grown accustomed to walking long distances. The thin shoes Mother had made out of animal skins allowed me to walk on the balls of my feet rather than heel toe like in heavier shoes and it kept my feet from getting sore. There was something different about this journey, though. Other times, Father would zigzag here and there and sometimes back track as he looked for a new place to stay. This time he headed straight forward, his golden eyes set ahead as though he could see our destination already. His lips pursed tightly and thought he looked nervous but figured it was just because of the concern of the Hunters we had left behind.
               Forest turned to moor land, and the feel of being out in the open sent chills up my spine. The starkness of the landscape made me feel vulnerable. There were no trees to duck behind. No bushes to crouch in. A Hunter's arrow could catch me easily out here. Their aim was almost perfect. I didn't know what Father was thinking. Traveling through the grassy, empty land in the day time. The sun beat down on me just as the cruel moon had last night. This time though, it lit up the whole world and not just me. I felt Mother's hand clasp around mine, my same fear showing in her identical eyes.  "Peter, you're not going to-" She began.
              "I am." Father cut her off, not looking back. My concerns boiled in my stomach. Where could he be taking us? If it worried Mother, it must be serious...Could I talk him out of it? Talk him out of whatever he was planning on doing? I decided to stay quiet and so did Mother. It stopped me dead in my tracks when I saw it. At first, in the distance, the little specks simply could have been nothing. But I noticed those specks were getting bigger and moving at a rapid pace toward us.
              "Father!" I yelped, pointing in the direction of the possible danger. Father swung his head over to look, his eyes narrowing with a determination. "Who is that? We should run, Father, lets go!" Mother gripped my hand tighter than she had before. He didn't budge. He just stopped and turned toward the approaching group of people, I could identify them as people now, riding on horse like creatures. I felt panic surge from my stomach to the rest of me. I had learned to trust in my parents; we had been through a few life and death situations already, but this time I had thought my Father had lost his mind.
             I could clearly see our approaching party now. They were apart of the Dwarf Clan. They looked silly to me, riding on those horse-pig creatures, their shortness evident in how high they were off the ground. They wore armor, covering their faces. It glinted in the light so that I had to turn my gaze away to avoid being blinded. Father stepped back toward us, keeping his eyes on the dwarfs, and held us behind him with outstretched arms. I looked out from behind his broad shoulders. They were just dwarves. I knew for a fact we were stronger and could defend ourselves.
             "A Dragon Spirit?" That was what we were sometimes called. The dwarves had stopped in front of us. They hadn't taken any aggressive action yet. Maybe they remembered the old days when my people were guardians to them. "I thought you were all but extinct."
            Father let his guard down slightly. Had he planned this? I looked out at the direction we had been heading. It seemed to lead no where but more stretch of grassy field, laying out like a sea of waving green fronds. "Not all of us." My Father replied.
            "You do know you are on Dwarf Clan property. We don't take kindly to strangers, especially not with a war on our hands."
            "Who is the war against? Aren't we both Magical here?" The dwarves took note of this. It was true, but even if Magical's appeared to be on the same side, many had turned on each other. Kin against kin, ally against ally; it had been known for Magical's to rat each other out to the Hunters in hopes of being spared. Foolish of them to think the Hunters would be thankful for their help. They were merciless.
             "So, what do you want Dragon Spirit?"
             "Refuge in your kingdom's walls for awhile." I was shocked.
              The dwarves shared glances through the little slits in their helmets. Again, I think their next agreement was because of the fading memory of our protection of them long ago.
              "Come with us then." This would be the first time I had ever been in a kingdom.