Fragments - Flash Anthology

Eighteen

Dragons, just like in my favorite stories. Well, mostly just like those dragons, though a bit even more like those old dinosaur documentaries. There were none back home, on Earth. At least, none native as far as I can tell. Sure, there have been countless tales and myths about flying creatures. Flame-breathing beasts, magical creatures of endless knowledge. Something to beat at the end of a journey, deep in a gold-filled cave. Someone who wreaks havoc upon a town, then sits atop the highest keep and pours pyroclastic clouds at all who approach. And many other stories of exotic kinds that are only briefly mentioned in the archives of ancient civilizations' folklore or religion.

But here, on an alien planet far from home. Here, on Andoa, in a universe filled with magic. Here, where humans may have traveled from Earth to settle. I believe it was here that our dragons came from. Escaped through magic portals. Perhaps they brought themselves across the universes to end up terrorizing peasants and to be slain by a knight. To be worshiped from afar and made to represent the gods. Or to die alone without a mate in cold distant peaks. If I had to guess, perhaps it would be more accurate to assume any such stray dragons might have preferred to die at sea. Maybe that would explain the lack of evidence outside of written words and painted pictures.

To whoever is reading these logs, know that we weren't wrong. Know that there were quite likely such creatures to exist when those assumed tall-tales were created. Dragons live here, though far in isolation in the crags of mountains. Though few in number, they are well known here, on Andoa. Sure, many big cities far from the mountains might think they're just a simple, nearly extinct beast only to be known from older times and cultures. But to those who live along the cold plains and by the coast at the foot of the Ychen peaks, for example, they must protect their domesticated wool and milk providers who trudge along eating the tundra grass. Because the farmers can't stop the dragons, nor fight them away, they can only pray the dragons don't feed again. Hiding their stock in a barn will force the dragons to burn the place down. I suspect the dragons can use magic just as we can, and thus they must have a great deal of intelligence to form the images of fire to purposefully set places ablaze.

The only curiosity I haven't solved was how they used magic on Earth. Perhaps there's a way to conjure fire or strong gusts or ice back home and we never figured the trick out. Or, maybe there was something about how they arrived that brought the magic with them. I've yet to see one up close, much less ask a dragon how they manage this feat. Even with my cameras, I can only catch them from very far distances. If the farmers across the valley would let me, I'd set up automated camera traps. At some point, I think I'll just do so anyway and hope they don't find and break them. They don't appreciate my 'demon magic.'

Funny how I've become more like the dragons I grew up knowing. On Earth, it was the dragons who were advanced beasts, celestial, demonic, and prone to great destruction; people saw dragons as something to be respected and feared. On Andoa, on this planet lacking in advancements we have on Earth thanks to the usefulness of magic, I have only made myself a monster to be feared. Those who know me more personally still keep me at arm's length. Only be banishing myself to the edge of the globe, in the frigid, barren butt of the great glacial slab on the south pole have I found peace and solitude, free from the hate and fear. I think this is why I have come to love the dragons, who I share this valley with. One day, I hope we can be friends, comrades in our suffering.