~ Mareduke is the last of his kind, and if the humans have their way, no dragons at all will exist in Kassia. Then, he meets two remarkable beings intent on changing his fate. ~

New Artwork!

I hope you enjoy this story I submitted to a contest where the prompts required a dragon meet a toddler in the forest, and the followed from the encounter. This was a joy to write.

Mareduke’s bloody, scaled head froze mid-dip. He reeled his tongue back in and stared at the child across the water. A long, cool drink was critical to his state of near-death, but he gave it up to inspect the reflection cast into the mountain lake by the tiny person on the grassy ledge.

An image of a girl, not much more than two, wrapped in a cloak, wavered over the gleaming surface. The sun glinted on that spot as if shining a beacon on the proof he sought. He raised his eyes to the embankment again.

The toddler was real, and she was staring back.

His snort displaced the water below his face. She would just have to watch while he drank because he was losing blood faster than his magic could heal him. There were too many wounds. Enough to end him if he couldn’t hydrate and rest.

The humans’ trap this time was multilayered and rigged with an exorbitant number of blades that had pulled Mareduke further down a natural pit with every move he made. They must have spent weeks designing all the intricate hazards.

He had come close to losing his head to a saw blade, and a broadsword had missed his heart by inches when it lodged between his ribs. But when he quit panicking long enough to halt the agonizing plummet, he was able to gather his magic and break free with enough momentum to gain altitude and escape the armed contingent of dragon assassins waiting for him on the surface.

He had spit his wrath at the failed murderers as he flew away, but they jeered at him when his usual rain of fire barely amounted to a drizzle and his wounded body listed sideways. He didn’t care. At this stage of life, he was accustomed to the humans and their collective superior attitude towards him and his dying species.

Still, he couldn’t understand their brutal solution to his thievery. He wasn’t there to hurt them, just grab a meal, a plump sheep or two, only because they had a penful of the tasty morsels too tempting to resist. Why did all humans insist on trying to kill him before his time? As far as Mareduke knew, he was the end of the line, and the idea, when he let himself dwell on it, that humans couldn’t share the whole of the Kingdom of Kassia with even one of his kind offended him.

The dragon had pushed himself to get to this refuge where he could recover his strength. He was surprised he had made it. Maybe it was the loss of blood that brought him this tiny vision because humans rarely came to this lake so high in the mountains, and a child would never survive the trek with or without accompaniment. Yet, it was getting harder to deny he beheld one standing at the water’s edge alone, appearing as if she were on a picnic.

He settled on his haunches, resting his chin on his front paws to better observe her. She hadn’t made a sound, only sticking her finger in her mouth as she looked around before focusing on him again.

This was the most bizarre thing he’d experienced in his young dragon life. What was she? He presumed she was human, but she could be anything. He considered how he might find out since neither of them could speak to the other.

Mareduke examined her for clues. Her cloak was made of fine, blue-dyed cloth with a glimmer weaving through that spoke of magic. Her wavy mop of strawberry-blond hair and clothing appeared clean, though her feet were bare.

That made him wonder if she was cold, but then he thought not. It was mild this time of year, even at this elevation.

While he sorted her out, she made herself comfortable as well, plopping down on a fluffy tuft of grass, her stubby legs sticking straight out, toes wiggling as they stretched toward the water. She got busy plucking nearby wildflowers until she gripped an entire bouquet in her small hand.

In between peeking at him, she observed other bits of life in her immediate vicinity, her finger returning absently to her mouth. He watched in amusement when she sniffed the pungent flowers, and her nose wrinkled. Still, she offered her collection a happy smile.

Mareduke grew more entranced when nature began to react to the tiny being. As it had done to her reflection earlier, sunbeams coalesced above her, dust motes dancing around her head like tiny fairies. Two bees drifted toward the flowers before darting at the nectar. Butterflies flitted around her smiling face.

A few woodland creatures crept close. A rabbit rose on its hind legs above the grass, wriggling its nose in her direction. A pair of doves settled in a branch and cooed. A doe and her fawns watched it all from the shade of a tree. Squirrels, hedgehogs, and even a young fox made an appearance. None of the creatures paid attention to Mareduke, their fascination centering on the pleasant child.

Mareduke thought that even with her mysterious aura, she had parents somewhere who were worrying about her. But what was even more curious than her origin was how she had come to be here.

The dragon froze when something crashed through the trees.

The life clustering around the child scattered, leaving her blinking at their sudden absence. She stood and turned towards the growls and cracking branches. A mountain troll was nearing, clearly unconcerned with announcing his presence. Typical. They stink, too. Mareduke should have smelled the vile creature long before he heard him, but he’d been distracted.

He needed to decide what to do about the child directly in his path. The troll would sooner snack on her than look at her, and the only thing to stop the voracious brute was Mareduke, but he was still weak from his injuries.

When the bulbous head popped out from the trees, Mareduke wasted no more time thinking. He flapped his wings and, in two strokes, landed between the oncoming threat and the helpless toddler.

The troll’s red-rimmed gaze fixed on Mareduke as he bore down on him with a club gripped in both hands. The ground shook under them as the beast closed in, his roars deafening.

Mareduke laid his wing over the ground and motioned for the little one to hop on. But she just stared at him as if unaffected by the approaching menace.

The absurdity of his situation made Mareduke want to snort in protest. Here he was, a perpetual target of human violence, getting ready to lay down his life for one of their offspring, if that’s what she was, because she couldn’t grasp that it was imperative to climb on.

He inhaled with everything he had in him for one good burst of fire, even as he indulged in the stories they would tell of his sacrifice on behalf of the enemy. That glorious notion deflated a bit when he remembered there was no one but a baby to witness his death.

Still, he drew in his breath. If he were destroyed, she would have no chance at all. He launched his fire. The paltry flames stopped the oncoming troll—for all of ten seconds.

The child tucked beneath him tapped the bottom of his chest with a fist so small he could barely feel it. But it got his attention. She smiled at him and clapped her hands, and Mareduke experienced an entirely new sensation. The air turned heavy, then seemed to curl in on itself.

His stomach lurched, and he closed his eyes. When he opened them, they were in a flower-covered meadow surrounded by jagged mountain peaks. He didn’t recognize the mountains, and there was no sign of the troll.

###

When Mareduke’s world stopped tilting, he took in his surroundings. A hut squatted near a giant oak tree with a stone fireplace taking up an entire end. Smoke curled from the chimney. There was a garden with neat rows of vegetables. A milk cow poked its head through a half door in a miniature barn as it chewed its cud. A raven cawed from the roof, and the child’s face split into a wide smile.

She waved at the bird, which squawked louder, stretched, and flapped its wings before flying to the ground and landing at the dragon’s feet, where it proceeded to change into a tall, bearded man in flowing robes.

“Well done, Eliana,” the man said, smiling down at the child. “You found him.” He peered up at Mareduke. “Can you understand my words, dragon?” Mareduke dipped his snout, and the man continued, “Judging by your copious wounds, your guardian was nearly too late.” Guardian?

Mareduke glanced at the small, grinning face, catching the flicker in her blue eyes.

“Have you no knowledge of the Western Woodland Fae?” the man asked him. Mareduke cocked his head, and the man explained. “The fairies who guard all living creatures in Kassia, though their relationship with dragons is the most sacred. One like Eliana is born every eight hundred years, give or take, with a special affinity for dragons, and a destiny that compels her to do all in her power to preserve the species.”

When Mareduke continued to stare, he added, “You must have raised yourself, young dragon, just as I theorized. You are truly alone, then?” Mareduke bobbed his snout. “What is your name? Wait, allow me to place my staff over your heart. I will be able to hear you in my mind.”

Curious to experience this, Mareduke allowed it. The oaken staff was strangely warm and comforting, which made it easy to respond. I am Mareduke. Will you please tell me who you are and where this is?

The man stepped back and said with a poignant smile, “Eliana. Meet Mareduke, quite possibly the last of his kind.” His smile brightened. “Though Eliana and I harbor hopes that won’t be the case. Don’t we, child?”

The tiny person laughed and said his name in a musical child’s voice, and the sound struck a chord in his heart.

“I am Pantheos, young Mareduke,” the man said after a bow and a sweep of his staff. “An old wizard, retired from the academy where I spent a lifetime studying dragons and their history, all in preparation for meeting up with little Eliana here when it was time. Your time, Mareduke. Finding you is one part of our task. The other is to find your mate. If we don’t, then all hope for the dragons is lost. What do you think about this purpose?”

Mareduke snorted and shook his great wings as the staff again touched his chest. It was liberating to have a voice, and he spoke. I hatched alone and believed I would die alone, accepting that fate marked me as the last of my kind. I never considered that another dragon waited for me somewhere. Can it really be possible?

“We have evidence she exists, or at least existed,” Pantheos said. “Her name is Cindra.”

All at once, Mareduke’s weakened state got the better of him, and he plopped on his haunches.

“Please, forgive my thoughtlessness!” the wizard said.

He pointed his staff at the well behind them, and a splash sounded from a bucket dropping into the water, followed by a creaking when the wizard’s magic operated the crank to pull it back up. Pantheos stepped to the well, retrieved the bucket, and brought it to Mareduke, repeating the process Mareduke supposed until the wizard was sure he wouldn’t keel over.

As he lapped up the sweet water, Eliana settled on his front leg close to his head and patted his cheek.

He flinched when a voice spoke in his mind, sounding anything but childish.

I am sorry you suffered such abuse today, Mareduke. Allow me to introduce myself. I am the part of Eliana that always exists, and I am very pleased to meet you. I would have found you earlier if my information had included your foray into that village. But everything Pantheos and I knew of you pointed to the lake once you ventured out for food.

He tilted an eye at her. Your kind must hatch fully developed, like dragons. Otherwise, how can you sound like a grown person? Her little-girl laughter lifted his heart, and he was sure his healing sped up by a day. She explained more.

I am an old soul, aware of my occupation inside this organic being who must grow in a mother’s womb before existing. I am both child and your spirit guardian, and my entire purpose is to see that you survive to have offspring of your own. But we must first find a way to make peace between dragons and humans.

How are you speaking to me now, and why not at the lake?

First, you needed to get used to the idea of me as a child, and I needed to observe you. When your heart opened to the possibilities, we were able to connect.

When Mareduke woke this morning with an empty stomach and the misguided plan to raid that village, no one could have persuaded him that by the end of the day, he would no longer be alone.

He puffed out a tiny bit of air to ruffle her hair, making the child laugh. Her ageless voice sounded again.

So long as Pantheos and I draw breath, you will never again feel the bite of loneliness.

Mareduke aimed his snout at Pantheos’s staff, and the wizard nodded, touching it to his chest.

I understand a little now about the soul called Eliana, but please tell me more about the child and how she retrieved a grown dragon on her own and brought us here. His big green eye swiveled back to the tiny being. Don’t you have parents?

“Eliana is my ward,” Pantheos said, “and her powerful Fae magic is why we have this arrangement. It is part of my destiny to help her learn to control her magic and to train her as a guardian. Though her soul has experienced this before, the child must learn how to function in this role. Her parents knew what she was when she was born, and they sought me out. She has a mark, you see.”

The pintsize Fae swept her cloak over her shoulder and showed Mareduke the small dragon’s eye on her forearm. The mark was more proof that he should listen to them, and Mareduke wondered how he could have lived all this time without knowing about the Western Woodland Fae and the guardians.

Trepidation struck him. Eliana felt it and turned to her mentor. Once again, the staff covered Mareduke’s heart, and the dragon spoke his worry in their minds.

If humans are my enemy, what about the danger to those who come to my aid?

“Well, yes,” Pantheos said. “You’ve grasped the tricky part. That is why you do not recognize these landmarks. Eliana brought you through a portal to a place the humans cannot find, the land of the Kassian gnomes. You won’t see them, but the nature-loving beings are all around this clearing, watching, never having seen a dragon.” Mareduke glanced around in interest as Pantheos continued.

“And you’ve addressed the other reason her parents left her in my care. Our best chance to meet our destiny and all the challenges it will bring is to combine our strengths. The plan is for you to help us locate your mate. Time is of the essence because the last known female dragon faces the same hazards as you.

“We’ve traced her territory, which includes the Western Woodlands. But we have not received word of Cindra for some weeks.” After this troubling news, the wizard rubbed his hands together. “Now. Did you consume any sheep in that raid? Or do you require a meal?”

Eliana pressed her hand to Mareduke’s chest and conveyed his answer in halting toddler words as if the ageless one had retreated. “He ate before being caught in the trap. He’s good for a day or two.”

“Fine,” Pantheos said. “We’ll catch you up and plan our expedition while you finish recovering.”

Mareduke’s head was spinning. Yet, everything his new friends said felt right. Eliana felt right, even if her dual nature was a bit disconcerting, and he knew this little glen was where he was supposed to be at that moment.

As for the future, he thought to himself, could there really exist another dragon in Kassia? What if something has happened to this one called Cindra? What if it hasn’t and we meet, and she hates the sight of me? Or worse, I can’t stand her?

He snorted, filling the air with small puffs of smoke. None of that mattered if it meant he was no longer the last of his kind.

###

The third time Mareduke had to insert himself between the villagers and the magnificent silver dragon belching molten fire, he began to seriously question the necessity of pairing up with his own kind.

No one told him female dragons were bigger than males, stronger, and could set half a town on fire with one blast.

And Mareduke had made her angry.

It took two weeks to investigate the leads the three had narrowed down and one more to pinpoint the most likely location for them to find Cindra.

Having left Pantheos and Eliana in a safe place, Mareduke arrived at the south edge of the Western Woodlands just in time to save what was left of a town under attack by the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen.

Cindra had strategically wiped out the village center and the humans who could best organize a defense. The villagers were scattering in all directions, disappearing into the woods, jumping in the lake, and hiding in rock crevices up the side of the adjacent mountain. And still, she circled her quarry, laying down fire to cut off retreats and destroy crops, livestock, and any other industry critical to the inhabitants’ livelihoods.

His best guess, if anyone were to ask him, was that his female counterpart didn’t like humans. And she just added him to that list, judging by how she bore down on him now, which made Mareduke grateful for his smaller size. She might be a powerhouse, but he could fly circles around her, and he proceeded to do that as he led her away from the village by stages to the secluded mountain meadow where his friends waited.

He just needed to figure out how to calm her down before they arrived.

Did the humans offend you?

He tossed that question her way as he dove under her belly.

She twisted her body and flew backward, aiming fire at him when she had a clear shot. He swerved, and it hit a shelf of snow and caused a small avalanche. He circled a mountain spire, disappearing from her view, then found a spot behind her to try again.

Is this how you treat all your new friends? he couldn’t help asking.

I have no friends, you muddy-colored dragon. Who do you think you are, interfering with my retribution? Flames shot from her nostrils. Are you a coward, hiding behind my back?

Mareduke snorted.

I can’t help that your size shields me from your eyes, even as it blocks the sun.

Cindra roared.

Mareduke had stopped feeling intimidated halfway to their destination, and he continued even as he ducked her fire.

The humans try to kill me on a regular basis. But I am bigger than them, and I don’t believe in using my advantages to harm others.

Well. Aren’t you the saintly one? Is this why you showed up out of nowhere? To protect humans?

Uh… Sort of. My friends and I have heard of you. You do realize there aren’t many of us around?

So what?

Why are you angry?

Why do you care? And where are you taking us?

Hmmm. So, she noticed. He didn’t think anything other than the truth would work, so he went for it.

My friends have been searching for you and want to meet you. They only recently found me, and when they told me you existed, I wanted to meet you, too. I’m Mareduke. Will you be peaceable if I take you to them? They are beings of the two-legged variety.

Since you’ve made me curious, I promise not to harm your puny friends, but I’m not promising to stick around. I have things to do.

Eliana stood in full sight, grinning at them as they circled the meadow and clapping her hands in delight.

What is that? Cindra’s voice in his head was scathing as she emphasized each word. That tiny being is one of your friends?

Her name is Eliana. Mareduke made sure to put plenty of warning in his own tone. And yes, she is my friend.

Where are your other friends?

There are only two. Now, will you land with me and let us explain?

I said I would, and I will.

###

Eliana’s toddler charm had little effect on the dragon with the bad attitude, but Cindra’s reaction to Pantheos when he stepped out of the trees surprised Mareduke. She went down on one fore-knee and bowed her head.

“You know who I am?” Pantheos asked her after returning a bow. The silver head bobbed. “Would you be amenable to drinking this potion so I can hear you? It is how I communicate with Mareduke.”

Cindra agreed with another nod, and Pantheos spoke in an ancient tongue as he turned his staff halfway around, then back again, and a bucket of water appeared in front of each dragon. It was only then that Mareduke realized he was parched.

The huge dragon waited patiently for Pantheos to add a few drops to her bucket. As she drank, Eliana stepped close enough to reach out and touch the silvery, scaled face. Cindra ignored her until the small hand caressed the bridge of her snout. She stiffened before aiming a sable eye at the bold child. When Eliana’s laughter bubbled out, Cindra jerked back and rose to her full height.

Mareduke spotted the warmth in her gaze before she hid it.

“I am pleased to finally meet you, Cindra,” Pantheos said.

It is an honor to meet you, High Mage. My mother told me the story of how you came to her aid. Your intervention with the humans enabled her to reach the nesting grounds. Otherwise, I might not be here. Cindra’s visage darkened. The humans killed her not many years later.

“I am sorry. I was informed of the tragedy and tried to find you, but you’ve kept yourself well hidden, other than coming out for those raids that have made you notorious.”

Do you know of my father, High Mage?

“Please, call me Pantheos. Yes, and I was there to help your mother through her despair. You have my deepest sympathies for the loss of both your parents, maiden dragon. That is why my young apprentice and I have not given up our search. It was Mareduke’s abilities that allowed us to finally succeed. It is our purpose to ensure your parents’ fate does not befall the two of you. You are the last of your kind.”

Cindra, after casting a scornful eye at Mareduke, looked down her snout at the toddler, who was still smiling at her.

Who, or should I say what, is this child?

“She is a dragon guardian. Do you know of such ones?”

I’ve heard of these fae. I have respect for her people and leave them out of my reckoning. It is only the humans who deserve my wrath. And you are keeping me from my next engagement. So, I’m afraid I must take my leave.

Mareduke scoffed.

That’s it? You can’t give us any more of your precious time to learn about your other choice?

Let me guess. My other choice involves mating with you. No thanks. I’m fine on my own.

Mareduke’s brownish-green scales glowed bronze, and his emerald eyes blazed with his indignation. A chuff of surprise was Cindra’s only reaction to the impressive sight, and she spread her wings in preparation for taking off.

Mareduke got in the last word when she was aloft.

We might be fine on our own… but should we be?

The last four words were louder in their heads than he intended because Cindra was already a mere speck in the distance. The reverberation elicited a squeal from Eliana as she plopped on her bottom.

It was the ancient guardian who spoke next in a voice covering the distance to the disappearing dragon.

We will meet again, dear friend.

###

Mareduke was not sure why he made the effort to track down the unpleasant maiden dragon … again. It wasn’t that he didn’t understand her pain. Part of him would like to give in to vengeance for the violence that ended his own parents’ lives. But he’d long ago come to terms with his principles over killing. Nothing good came of it.

He thought Cindra might believe that, deep down, somehow sensing that her destructive ways ate at her. Convincing her to change was another matter. Eliana and Pantheos assured him it was worth a try, so they flew with him to yet another human village they had pegged on their map of Cindra’s territory.

Mareduke didn’t want to admit it, but he could feel her in his heart, which assured him they were on the right path. He wasn’t ready to face the idea his sensitivity was due to a mate bond already forming, so he put that thought away.

They saw the blaze rising above the trees before they spotted the silver dragon camouflaged against a low cloud. He sent his thoughts to his passengers.

She is one headstrong beast. But this village was prepared. Do you see the trebuchets lined up around the perimeter? The brave ones are determined to load them even as some die under her fire.

“And it appears half contain buckets of tar, while half are fireballs,” Pantheos observed. “That is quite a defense.”

I foresee those wicked devices causing her death, the guardian said in a grim voice. We must disarm them.

I will not risk you, Eliana. We should put you down somewhere safe.

You needn’t worry about me, Mareduke. We have one shot at a pass while they are focused on her. Let’s go.

The little one was right. Mareduke flew low and fast, knocking the legs out from most of the machines before the humans realized another dragon had descended on them.

The flaming ammunition dropped to the ground, and the villagers scrambled to put out their fires. But they were prepared, tying cloths over their mouths and pulling covers over each spot to snuff out the flames.

Still, Mareduke couldn’t fly to them all fast enough.

“To your right!” Pantheos shouted.

The trebuchets still standing were repositioned, tar buckets set ablaze, and aimed their way. Besides the tar, fire from above rained down from a device before he could topple it. Mareduke twisted and shot up, managing to dodge the tar, but the flames hit his flank, and he faltered under the searing pain.

Hang on! He alerted his passengers. I can get us away.

Even as he listed to the side, he managed to power his wings enough to lift above the machines, but not out of range of a tar bucket, which hurtled towards his chest. If he ducked the wrong way, the flaming missile would splatter his precious cargo. He braced himself for the pain, staying his path.

A silver wing arced between them and the tarry danger. Mareduke roared out his fear for Cindra. The bigger dragon smashed the bucket to the ground with her outstretched wing, which collapsed the remaining trebuchets, but not before her wing was doused with the thick, molten goo. She careened sideways, then crashed to the ground.

The smell of gaseous tar and burning dragon flesh filled Mareduke’s nostrils.

The humans closed in with more tar and torches.

Set us down next to Cindra, Pantheos commanded. Mareduke wasted no time landing in a way that allowed him to shield the injured dragon struggling to stand.

Cindra’s voice, full of pain and frustration, rang in his head, her eyes glowing with admiration.

What are you doing, you murky dragon? Go! Get that child away from here!

Prismatic beams flared from Pantheos’s staff in every direction. The humans stopped to shield their eyes before spotting the source standing atop Mareduke’s back.

“I am the High Mage, Pantheos. I bring a decree from the King who has sworn to protect the last of the dragon kind, provided my apprentice and I find them alive. We have fulfilled our task. These sacred creatures are all that is left. It is not right to destroy them.” He paused, “Or that they exact revenge on you, but that will change. There will be a peaceful coexistence. Eliana and I will see to it. Now, stand down and let us leave with the injured dragon.”

One of the men stepped forward.

“Many have died today. What does King Lathan say about that?”

Eliana reached for Pantheos, who picked her up so she could face the crowd. A beam of sunlight washed over the child. A pair of doves appeared from nowhere and landed on each shoulder, cooing gently. Butterflies likewise appeared, flitting delicately over her head.

The sweet, halting voice of a child sounded across the smoldering village. “There has been much death on both sides. It must end here.”

Though many in the crowd appeared swayed by her compelling tone and peaceful magic, the man called out again, “Until there is a king who will decide differently. My descendants may yet avenge our dead.” “That may be,” the little one said, “if you decide that to be your legacy. For now, let there be peace, and let me go home with my friends. For I promise you, one day you will need them.”

Artwork by D. L. Lewellyn using Photoleap and Canva.

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