The Yurai Saga: The Change (Part 1)

Chapter 3

The first time he woke up he felt like he was moving, like he was on a boat. There was a constant up and down motion that threatened to send him into the confines of sleep. The wind was whooshing noisily by him, screaming in his ears and sending cold chills down his arms and back. There was a large beating sound to the side, like the sound of a drum, beating in rhythm to his heart.

A small ache began to make itself present in his right shoulder, and when he tried to move to relieve the pain he found he couldn't. Relaxing again he blinked, trying to clear the sleep out of his eye. If felt like he was in a dream, maybe he was on a boat, but that didn't explain the cold whooshing air or the dismal drum beats that refused to stop.

He let out a small groan before closing his eyes again, letting the up and down motion send him back into the darkness. It was to exhausting to stay awake.

* * *

The second time he awoke he felt better. There was no more moving boat or whooshing of wind or dismal drum beats. And most of all he was warm. A small smile spread across his face as he let his eyes open, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings.

The bright light of a campfire illuminated a dark green forest that was spread all around. There was a large dark shape to the side of his vision and what looked like another person, relaxed against a big, strange looking, log.

A cough escaped his throat, followed by a grunt of pain. His back felt like it had been scraped off and his right arm didn't feel like it was there. Maybe it wasn't? With a panicked scramble he forced himself upright. His arm was still there. A small breath of relief escaped him, followed by a wave of pain in his head.

"So you're awake," said a deep voice coming from the man on the log.

Dale didn't respond. It hurt to even think, let alone talk.

There was a shuffle of movement, followed by a thump of footsteps. A hand touched his shoulder and Dale glanced up. Fear threatened to engulf him, and he froze. The man was tall, maybe six foot. His brown beard was ruffled by wind and he had green glazed eyes that saw everything. A scar was running from the corner of his eye to his mouth making his weather beaten face seem all the more fearsome to the twelve year old boy.

"I wouldn't move if I were you. You have a badly burnt back," he said if rough english, "And you arm's broken. At the shoulder, I think."

Dale still didn't talk, the words stuck in his throat. Who was this man? First he had let that creature attack him, and now he was trying to comfort him.

"I'm called Barrack," said the man, "What's your name?"

He still wouldn't talk. The man sighed in and stood up, walking back to the log. Dale's eyes followed him. His heart jumped as it moved. A deep growl came from his right. The dark form he had noticed before stood up. The fear he had felt before rose to a new level.

The creature moved its head over to him. Dale froze, to hurt to do anything but stare. He had survived this far only to be eaten. Maybe he was meant to die. The creature's head hovered over him, before it snorted and looked back at the man who was relaxed against its tail.

The man spoke in a strange language to the creature, and it's throat rumbled. Laughing? Dale was confused. Did the creature and the man understand each other?

"Meet Garathon," said the man, "You are lucky he didn't eat you. Dragon's are... vengeful creatures. When you poke them in the eye it doesn't make one your friend."

"Dragon?" Dale peeped, his voice worked again.

"Yes," said the man nonchalantly, patting the creature on the head, "And it is good to know you can talk."