What's a Dragon? - Chapter 20
Explanations
In Part 2 (Ch. 6-17), Emilie found out what it means to be a true dragon, at least physically and magically. Keeping this a secret from her friends and society is something of a challenge, but she’s doing her best.
I thought some more about what Daddy said. And I kept reading the Mymoir, and books from the regular library. I do still have a paper to write. I think, maybe, I can tell Jess about me. But not until after the Defense Force knows there’s a Dragon in the area. Before that, I think I’ll just dodge the question. At least I have Shannon to help.
Returning to the park today was a little easier, but only in that there’s no fog or clouds. It’s still frigid. But with the moonlight, navigation was okay. And thankfully Shannon didn’t ask why we had to come. Not until right now.
“Is there a reason that you need to come out here every week?” She’s holding her flashlight and flight wand, ready for me to shift. You can still see the burn marks on the field from last week. I hope they’re gone before people want to picnic here again.
I… well, I suppose I can spend my magic on something other than shifting and flying, but I still need the practice. And besides… “I need the exercise. I can’t give my wings a workout when I’m small.” Because somehow muscle strengthening still works even when accounting for shifting between forms.
Shannon furrows her brow. “‘Small’?”
“It’s not like I’m no longer human when I transform, nor am I not a Dragon even when I don’t look like one. So I think that’s a better way to say it.”
She nods lightly. “Alright. But why do you need the exercise?”
“Same as for any other muscles. ‘If you don’t use it, you lose it,’ Al says. And I want to be able to fly well if I really need it.”
Shannon looks up at the sky. The weather won’t obscure anything this week. “And if you’re spotted?”
I exhale. “Then hopefully nobody panics. And if someone gets close, maybe you can talk with them?” I did a lot of research this week. “Dragons aren’t known to talk. But maybe you can convince people that I’m safe.” Assuming I don’t have to defend us, and in that case I’ve found a few spells that hopefully won’t hurt anyone.
Her gaze returns to me. “Okay. Let’s get going.”
I step back to a safe distance, Shannon carefully watching me. Then when my footing is sure, I shift. No falling this time. Shannon’s lips move, but I don’t hear anything.
«What was that?»
Shannon’s eyes move from my center of mass to my face. Or rather, the left side of it; because of my eyes’ positions, I’m just looking at her with my left eye while my right watches the woods. This is still kind of weird even after all the time I’ve had with this vision. The absolute location heat mapping of my surroundings helps a lot, though. “I didn’t see any magic. I asked Jess to show me her transformation yesterday so that I could compare the two. You’re not a Mage.”
«I thought I’d already proved that.» What with the rock and all.
“Having another example helps.” Shannon… floats? Oh, right, flight wand. Floats up and lands on my back, forward of my wings. She drops rather quickly after touching me, but to my current strength I barely feel her weight. “Oof!” she exclaims as she lands, straddling the base of my neck.
«Are you okay?» I turn my head so that I can see her. It’s a little difficult, but my neck is long and my field of vision is wide.
She nods. “Just—wasn’t expecting the wand to cut out like that.”
«That’s probably because you touched me. Dragons block a lot of Aspect magic. Ready?» I flare my wings for takeoff.
Shannon readjusts, then nods again and I leap to the skies.
For several minutes, Shannon doesn’t say anything. I don’t think she uses wands very often; this is probably her first flight. And to be honest, having flown for six hours previously doesn’t make flight any less fun or thrilling. Still, I’m mindful of her presence and don’t try any steep dives or sharp turns.
I feel a couple of rapid squeezes near the base of my neck and slow so that I can safely look at Shannon. “Can you hear me!?” she practically shouts in my face.
«Oh, sorry. I guess I can’t when I’m moving fast. What did you want to say?»
“It’s cold when you fly quickly. Like gusts of wind in January. Can you fly a little slower?”
«Sure.» I face forward again and move at a more sedate pace. «Is this good?»
“Much better!” she calls.
«Alright.» What to talk about? «Do you still have the rock I gave you?»
“Is it a problem if I show it to anyone?”
I read the Mymoir and several books this week for my paper. “Draconic” writing is in a lot of historical sites—I think the Dragons figured their writing would preserve records well. Maybe it’d work a little better if Dragons actually traveled with the archaeologists looking at the ruins, although I’m not sure the archaeologists would be very happy. Anyway, the books with pictures of the writing didn’t know it was from Dragons, so I guess I can’t put it in my paper. I can’t read hieroglyphics, but the Draconic symbols aren’t any harder to read as a picture in a book than in the Mymoir.
«I don’t think many people other than Dragons can identify the symbol. There’s a system of writing that’s unique to Dragons, and that symbol in particular means “Dragon.” One thing I can do without a spell is engrave those symbols into stuff.»
“No spell? You carved it yourself?” It’s clear from her tone that she thinks I mean I’m a skilled artisan.
«Not quite.»
I explained the Mymoir, how Star magic works, and a few other things until Shannon said it was clear that I read a lot more than she does. Which was a polite way to say “I need to process this; please change the subject.” I mostly flew in silence after that part, simply enjoying the chance to fly.
“Emilie, look,” Shannon requests after we’ve landed and I’ve shifted back to small. Having Shannon there really gave me a sense of scale. My dragon form is enormous.
The flashlight wand is illuminating the space between Shannon’s legs. I take a second—oh. Her jeans are shredded.
Shannon moves the wand to illuminate my expression, then our path back to our bikes. “Maybe I’ll learn an abjuration spell.”
She can’t see my expression now, but I know my astonishment is clear.
“It’s not for my parents,” she explains. “I want to keep doing this. And I don’t want my pants to be single-use.” Shannon sounds like she’s thought this over. She probably could feel her pants being damaged while we were in the air. “Abjuration won’t fail while I’m touching you, right?”
I shake off my shock. “No, it won’t. It’ll work.” Augmentation spells such as flight fail when used against true dragons directly. If you’re just looking at a Dragon, there’s no problem, but you can’t have augmented strength for punching one. Abjuration is like augmentation but purely focused on defense. There’s probably some difference to the structure of it but only a Wizard could tell me what it is. But that difference in structure is what lets it keep working. (I read about this in the Mymoir, but I bet the New York Defense Force could teach it, too.)
“Then I’ll find a wand and some time to practice.” Shannon mounts her bike, and I hurry so she doesn’t leave me behind.
Coming home today was relatively uneventful. My parents expected us to be out, there was no beast attack, and not many people were awake yet anyway. Although there was probably time that we were flying where nobody could scry Shannon due to distance, so I bet her parents aren’t too happy about that if they checked. I mean, I hope they’re not scrying me or Shannon at all, but as I thought about it before, someone’s going to learn there’s a Dragon here eventually. Seeing Shannon riding it wouldn’t be the worst reveal.
It was a very clear morning. Blacksburg was not hard to see. My scales are the same color as the night sky, so it might be hard to see me, but it’s certainly possible if I fly in front of the moon or something. Not that I want people to see me, but I’m getting a lot more comfortable with the idea that I can’t hide forever.
I still really don’t want to meet other Dragons.
The first draft of my paper is due in a little over a week. Mom said that I should start writing because I take forever to do that. Probably because writing is hard and boring. Reading is fun because I’m learning, although I think I could’ve lived an okay life without ever reading the Mymoir. But I still don’t know how to write my report.