An Unexpected Meeting

My life for the past several years had been about the same; I'd wake up freezing, then probably avoid danger of some kind before weighing out the odds of going into a town or village for food, or just trying to scavenge in the wild. It's never an easy choice since both are potentially dangerous, I always lack money, and hunger never leaves me with much energy to hunt or gather.

Today wasn't much different so far. I entered a village named something on a sign I didn't care to read, then tried to buy a piece of bread with enough money to buy maybe a quarter of that much. I guess the lady selling felt pity for me, because, shockingly, she gave me half the loaf and a few pieces of jerky for free. I'm not used to charity, but I couldn't say I was in a position to oppose it. And since my plan was to quickly get some food and leave without drawing too much attention, I accepted it.

On my way out of the village, I constantly felt the eyes of almost everyone I passed. I'm sure they were wondering about things like who I was, whether I'm suspicious or not, and other kinds of useless hysteria that always led to the same outcome. I found it better to not stay near people for too long. To put it simply: fewer people means less potential for danger.

Making my way down the beaten road stretching beyond my horizon, hugging closely to an enormous forest that seemed to stretch just as long, I pondered how far I should walk from the village. As much as I didn't like being around people, there's a certain safety in civilization. Safety from the beasts, if nothing else, for the most part. Despite that and the nice lady, I felt like walking away, moving to a new area. Maybe if I just kept walking, I'd be able to find a place different from everywhere else; a place where watching over my back at all times, sleeping outside in the cold, and hunting with my terrible makeshift bow would no longer be necessary. The majority of my life had just been surviving and drifting. I didn't know where I was anymore and I didn't care to know. I just knew where I wanted to go, and hoped that place existed. It has to.

Settling on my choice to just keep walking, I noticed the village was no longer in sight. Just the forest to my left, the road, the fields to my right, and the far distant mountains past those were all I could see. I guess I was lost in thought.

I carried on walking through the rest of the morning until I heard the sound of distant wind far beyond the forest's treeline, though it was louder and more cacophonous than any wind I'd ever heard. Instinctively, I looked toward the sound and gained no new information. The forest it came from was far too tall. Fearing the worst, I ran off the side of the road into the field and found a ditch to hide in. Hands over my head, back facing the sky, I listened, hoping for whatever it was to go away. But the sound got louder and louder and louder until suddenly a new sound, a combination of that same cacophony and a heavy impact, smashed into my eardrums. The extreme force of wind and shaking of ground knocked my body to near numbness. The moment the blast rescinded, I quickly picked my head up to see dust and dirt falling in the air, and of course, the worst possible thing I could think of was standing, in the dust cloud, silhouetted where the road had been seconds ago. In seconds, the veil of dust and dirt fell, revealing the fat, ancient, moss-covered, green-and-brown dragon towering over me.

Shakily standing in the ditch, staring at the dragon, I didn't know what to do. Maybe I could run, but running from a dragon in a field wouldn't've helped at all. I could've screamed for help, but I'm probably too distant for anyone to hear. With no good choice I could think of, I just kept staring in silence, knowing that of course now of all times, after someone gave me kindness; gave me more reason to go on, my life might actually end without fail this time. Terror quickly slipped away as a cruel acceptance of a nigh end took over; an end to a life I frankly never wanted to live; a life I've hated for as long as I could remember. In this moment, a single tear slid from my eye to be seen by the dragon. As each moment passed, I realized this dragon, who was just staring as well, looked at me with a gaze I hadn't truly seen in a long time. It was a gaze filled with empathy, sadness, intent, and relief. And not a moment later, he spoke.

"What happened to you, young one?"

The sheer magnitude and weight of his voice exiting his monstrous mouth drew my eyes to it. It was large enough to eat me several times over. It made me feel like I was pinned in place, fear and confusion swelled through my mind, leaving me with no choice but to stay rooted where I was, bordered from the forest. This forest was still horizon-passing on both ends like a large wall expanding for what seemed forever. Along with his terrifying maw, his gargantuan head carried two, albeit larger than my own head, soft, warm, and almost welcoming amber-colored eyes. Looking into those eyes, I felt like he understood something about me by just looking into mine. The more I looked into them, the more comfortable and less terrified of his teeth I became. And so, remembering his question, I answered him willingly.

"W-where would you like me to start?"

"How about the start?" the dragon asked cleverly.

I proceeded to tell him.

Most of my days at the orphanage were normal. Well, relatively normal. I spent my time there fetching water, reading old tattered books and parchment, helping in the kitchen, and doing other chores. Every kid did something since our caretaker was old and frail. But as frail as she was, she was like a grandmother to all of us. Day after day, she tried to teach and prepare us the best she could for a world who didn't want us.

Not long after I turned six, I was woken in the middle of the night by shouting men and the light of torches. Sensing danger, I shot up out of bed and tried to wake as many of my friends as I could with a hushed voice. However, it was but a matter of seconds before the men barged in with torches, pitchforks, swords, and knives. I rushed under my bunk before they could see me. I watched as the men threw their torches to the walls and ground, setting them alight. They proceeded to slaughter every boy in sight before they had to escape the inferno of their own creation. I curled up as tightly as I could, waiting to die.

Surprisingly, I woke up the morning after under a pile of metal, ashes, and charred wood. As soon as I freed my burned arm and emerged from the rubble, I ran away as fast as I could and never once looked back.

After I finished my story, the dragon moved his giant, hanging-moss-bearded head closer in an attempt to console me.

"I am sorry that happened to you."

Shakily breathing, I responded, "I-It's fine. It was a long time ago anyway."

"What is your name, young one?"

I couldn't say I'd ever thought of that question before. I remembered the other kids in the orphanage called me Red because my parents, whoever they were, left me with a red scarf I carried around everywhere I went. Though nowadays, I only wear it in the cold. Also, the ends of my messy black hair contained a dark, crimson red. But after that night, I never thought of that as my name.

"I don't . . . know. I don't even have a home."

Raising his head back up to a more prideful and energetic posture, his eyes shining with an amber fire, the dragon exclaimed, "Well then! Come with me, Ladon."

"L-Ladon?"

Hearing somebody call me by a name put roots in my feet as I took a moment to process. Although I wasn't used to it, a fast-growing part of myself found great joy in having a name.

"Yes, Ladon. Now come along."

I didn't have even the slightest idea how to react to what he said to me, but all I knew was I wanted to stay with him as if he was my long-lost father.

We began walking at about midday, entering the dense forest consisting of many different kinds of trees, bushes, and wildlife. Every quarter mile or so, we'd come across an enormous redwood or two with trunks big enough that even the dragon had to walk around them. The further in we walked, the more common those redwoods seemed to become.

I continued following him for what felt like hours. Fortunately, the slow, gargantuan dragon trouncing his way through the foliage made it quite easy to follow behind, though I'm sure the forest wasn't terribly happy about it. It gave light to an area I could tell wouldn't've been very bright otherwise.

Through the sounds of cracking, crashing trees and flattening bushes, I asked, "Where are we going?"

"Home, young Ladon. We're going home."

"How far away is it?"

"I do not know, young Ladon. I'm sure we're not far," he answered with a hint of surety and exasperation.

With ever-growing excitement and curiosity, I asked, "What's it like at home?"

"Quiet, spacious, and calm, young Ladon," he replied seemingly more annoyed.

I asked him about twenty more questions before his building frustration became greater than obvious. Questions like, "Are we there yet?" or, "How many more times will we turn?" Seeing his very noticeable frustration caused me to worry I was being a pest by asking too many questions. As a result, I grew quiet, pondering whether or not I should've stayed quiet the whole time like I usually preferred.

It was during this time of worry that the dragon stopped and said, "I must apologize to you, young Ladon. Normally, I would fly above this forest to get home, but by walking, it appears that I have gotten us lost."

Freshly reassured, I asked, "Why don't you just fly?"

"Because you cannot fly with me."

Continuing my attempt to navigate his thought process, I explained, "I know I can't fly, but you can. You said so yourself."

"That is true, young Ladon."

"Then why not let me ride on your back?"

With a somewhat sarcastic, joking tone, he replied, "Because, young Ladon, a dragon does not allow anything or anyone to ride them. We have far too much pride for something like that." After a short silence, he lowered his head like a ramp. "Now with that said, hop on my back. This is taking far too much of our time than I would like."

As soon as I climbed onto his back, we ascended into the sky faster than my mind could comprehend. We were flying so fast against the wind that my voice couldn't escape my mouth. It was almost as if the world was forcing me to take in the beauty of the setting sun over the distant mountains from this truly magnificent height. With my horizon line stretching farther than it ever had in my life, I could see most of the forest below us. I did'nt not want to see it, or at least I didn't think I wanted to, especially considering I couldn't help but be terrified of falling. I didn't know if it was the fear or the beauty, but in that moment, being in the sky felt like an eternity. A part of me didn't want to leave, but as soon as I collected my thoughts, we had already begun landing into a large clearing deep in the forest.

When I dismounted him, I turned my head to see what one could only assume to be his nest. I didn't know how I hadn't noticed it on the way down. It was huge for it looked like a bird's nest, except with logs for sticks, entire canopies for leaves, and what looked like unnaturally-shaped and perfectly-fitted boulders all around its rim to keep it all contained. The nest was more than fitting for a creature of his size.

"This is my home, young Ladon."

Approaching the nest, it was clear it dwarfed me. The edge was taller than I was despite how flattened and used it was. I could easily climb to get on top of his nest since one of the boulders was grooved to the shape of a massive resting dragon hand more than big enough for me to easily sit in. It was shocking just to think a nest could be of this scale.

"It's huge," I replied.

"Well, luckily for you, young Ladon, you do not need to sleep in it."

Looking around the clearing, I could see the nest was the only structure. It didn't take long for the confusion to take over my head because of what he said, especially since I was sure sleeping out in the open wasn't a good idea. When I looked back at him, he was holding his serious and calm expression. His expression, I figured at this point, was his resting face since it seemed to be the one he held the longest. I could tell he knew I was confused, and he seemed to take a small amount of joy in seeing it.

The dragon proceeded to explain. "You will be making your own shelter. Think of it as your home. When you make it, of course."

I was equal parts scared and somehow more confused as I realized he wasn't giving me a home, but instead decided I should make one for myself.

"Why?"

"Because, young Ladon, you are…. "

"Sixteen," I interjected.

"Right…" The dragon looked down at me, a ray of amusement beaming from his amber gaze. "You are sixteen and you need to be able to do this. It is far too late to get yourself a parent, but it is not too late to get yourself a teacher."

"Teacher?" I questioned.

"Yes. I will be your teacher. I will train you in the ways of our kind and how to live your life as an adult. But before I do, I believe you need a safe shelter away from the elements, do you not?"

I nodded, unable to argue with what he said, especially after he just took me in as if I was his own kin. The only other person who treated me like that was the old lady from the orphanage, but she'd be long dead by now.

At about four in the morning, after working through the night, I surveyed the sort of small hut I'd built out of sticks, leaves, moss, and various animal skins I had on me. However, the dragon told me it wasn't good enough to live in, so I moved it to a separate part of the clearing to be my temporary shelter. I didn't know how, but the dragon had all the tools I needed to build a real cabin. On the ground, covered in some slimy substance and wrapped in a leather holding, was an axe, chisel, hammer, hand saw, and knife all in near-perfect, almost shiny condition, although the shine may have been the slime. When I was building the shelter, I had to do all the cutting, chopping, and woodwork myself, but the dragon helped me carry and place the logs. I was definitely strong enough to move them myself, but the size of them was too big for me to practically lift in place.

I still had to hunt for my food most days, but with constant hard work, I finished my shelter in three weeks. It was a sturdy log cabin with a stone foundation and log support beams. On the inside, there was nothing yet except a window on both sides of the cabin with semi-working shutters, a wooden bed, and an empty fireplace made of stones and clay I found close to an incredible river nearby. I even made a small, cool cellar for meats with indoor access through a hatch in the floor. I'm sure a professional could've made it better, but I couldn't help but be proud of it.

When I looked at my finished home with pride welling from my accomplishment, the dragon rested his head on the ground beside me. "From now on, this is your home, young Ladon. This is where you will eat and sleep."

I didn't know how to express my immense gratitude for what the dragon did for me, so all I said was thank you before leaving the clearing to gather some firewood. I spent a few hours cutting down a tree, chopping the log into sections, then those sections into firewood suitable for my fireplace. By the time I was done, the dragon had come home with our food for the night. He got seventeen deer and two rabbits.

"The rabbits are for you, Ladon," the dragon explained while actively devouring an entire deer.

He doesn't like his food cooked, as I learned when I tried to get him to try it weeks ago, so I set my rabbits to roast over the fireplace, then went to the window facing his nest to talk to him for a while.

"How'd you come up with my name?"

The dragon paused after the question as if a lifetime of memories decided to flood in. I could quickly see all the happiness, and especially all the sadness they brought to his eyes.

Mournfully, he answered, " Ladon… Ladon was the name of an old friend." Seeing all the visible sadness in his huge, golden-orange eyes, I decided not to inquire further.

"What's your name?" I asked, even though I was pretty sure I heard it at some point before meeting him as dragons weren't so rare.

And with a dignified stature, head now held high to hide the pain from before, he proudly said, "It is about time you asked. My name is Abraxas. I was once a proud dragon, but my . . . our kin did not agree with my ways."

I could feel the pressure in the air as I sensed a great deal of sadness building back inside him, even if he refused to show it all. Though I wanted to ask more questions, I felt bad seeing him hurting, so I said goodnight, patted his nose, finished my dinner inside, and went to bed.