I was somewhere deep in the forest, the kind of dark, scary forest that grew only in Grimm fairy tales somewhere in Germany. I knew I was running away from another foster parent. This one had too many cats. She'd have given me up anyway. I had too much energy. That's what most of them said. The ones that didn't know what I was really doing when I was out "exploring."
I had run all day and my feet were starting to get tired. Slowing to a stop, I looked around me as a strange wind rustled the leaves. A female figure, armed with a spear, stepped out of the hiding place. It was her, with her olive skin and her shocking blue eyes and long black hair. She was wearing leather like an assassin, strapped over her chest with thick black buckles and twisting behind her in sharp coattails laced with black. My mother. Or what I thought she'd look like. Except I usually imagined her with a turtleneck and slacks.
"Mom?" I thought but the words never made it out. She plunged her spear below my rib cage.
I sat up so fast that my head throbbed painfully. "Ughh," I groaned, running my hand through my hair. That's when the full moon of a face caught my attention. "Yuh!" I jumped back and pressed my body to the rumbling wall.
"Good morning Shadow Boy!" What appeared the be a morning person beamed at me behind wide-set oval glasses.
"Huh? Who-who," my eyes ran from her buggy gaze to her pigtails to her ugly multicolored lab coat, to the area around me. We were in a ridiculously small room that was actually moving. By the rhythmic clicks and bumps, I guessed we were on a train. Blinds were pulled over the windows, casting us into semi-darkness. As I looked at the bland white walls, she was scribbling something down on her lime green notepad.
Suddenly she raised a thin metallic tube and pressed a small black button on the side. What immediately followed was a burst of agony and momentary blindness. It felt like a hot griddle had been shoved in my face and had melted my eyeballs. A shockwave of pain shook me to the core of my being and I immediately shoved my face to the pillow with a shriek.
"Hmm." I could hear her scratching down notes over my whimpers. Then, a small poke to my shoulder. I flinched.
"That's a pen, silly," she sighed as if I was an absolute idiot for being freaked out by her human experimentation. "And what I just did? I shone a flashlight on you."
"You tased me!" I wheezed into the pillow.
"No. It's a flashlight. See?" She handed it over and I basically flung myself to the other side of the bed to get away from it.
Her intense gaze went to my face. She then started jotting down more notes furiously. Meanwhile, I spotted movement behind her chair, crawling up the wall. I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but what's a guy supposed to say when he sees a ghost? Duck?
"Well, that was interesting. Any strange dreams?" She leaned over and opened a slim plastic case. A needle about as long as my finger was flicked by a thick finger. A single bubble floated through the clear liquid.
"Hey. Hey. Where are you sticking tha--Ah!" I yelled as she plunged it in my bicep. I felt a cold burn rush in my veins. "Aren't you supposed to... put... rubbing alcohol on that?" I wheezed.
She yanked it out and tossed it in the container aside. "Weird dreams?" she echoed when a black creature fell from the ceiling and onto her head. I screamed. She screamed louder. The creature screamed. Someone outside our cabin screamed.
She managed to fling it off and it flew onto my lap, hitting me with a fluid thonk. She scrambled for her notes and continued screaming all the way out of the cabin, slamming the door behind her.
My first move was to push the thing right off my lap. It thudded to the floor, where its dark body moved slowly, pained in the darkness. Its body was such an uniform, blocky black that it was nearly impossible to distinguish features such as legs or a head. For a moment it sat there, shaking slightly. A crescent moon shape of electric blue slanted open and a squeaky cry croaked out. It started crawling towards me, fading in and out of physical form.
As scary as it should be, the crying was too pathetic to really be something middle-school boogie man enough to grab me and pull me under the bed to crunch on my bones. I leaned over, staring at it. "What in the name of Gerald are you?" I whispered. Shocking violet glowed as its eyes opened, revealing big kitten round pupils. I remembered those eyes.
"You're... you're that thing!" I whispered.
No sooner than I had my epiphany the door was flung open and huge combat boots stomped inside. Glowing eyes hidden by dark shades (who wears shades in a dark room? Apparently this dude) scanned the room. "Just like I thought." Mister Sunglasses said, his deep voice distorted by the cigarette flapping in his mouth.
I scooted back and flashed a glance to the shadow beast but it had already disappeared. The General looked right past me at the corner of the wall. "Come out.. come out..." he crooned in a voice I'm sure the big bad wolf used on the piggies.
Somehow I could start to see him in the corner, his little body super still as if he thought that if he didn't move the General couldn't see him. When the General reached out a gnarly hand he scattered, racing along the wall before leaping onto the bed. In a flash he was behind my back, his body trembling against mine.
The General let out a barking laugh that made both of us flinch as he stood up tall and turned to face me. "He's already loyal t'ya. That's quite a special critter you got there. At this age they usually wanter eat yer fingers for a snack and see how far they can get afore ya catch em!"
I blinked, not really understanding a word he was saying.
He pulled up the chair that had knocked over when Pigtail Girl had made her exit. Swiveling it on one of its legs, he swung himself over to straddle the back in a power position facing me. His fingers curled over the ridge of the chair as he leaned over. "Justin. That's your name. The only name God gave ya huh?"
"Well, my parent's should have given me a last name," I found myself speaking a bit rapidly. "But they weren't present at my birth to give it to me, you see."
He barked again. I flinched again. "Kid, you're funny. Ah... I really hope you make it." He looked at me for an uncomfortable amount of time. I wasn't sure where he was looking behind those shades.
Finally the silence was too much for me to handle. "Where am I?" As soon as I asked the first question all the others spilled out one after another. "What is this? Who are you? Where are we going?" Then I noticed that my skinny legs were covered. "And who gave me these jeans!"
He laughed, though this time I was ready for it. "Well kid, hold onto those jeans cuz your about to have a shocker! I'm a frank man so I'll explain in few words. Son, you just bonded with one of the rarest dragons in the world. Those critters like to be wild. They rarely choose a Rider. But he... chose you. Don't ask me why or how. Maybe someday you can ask him."
I looked over at it. By now it was quietly chewing on the strings of a sweatshirt that had been folded up beside me. At first I hesitated, thinking it must have little teeth and it might bite me. With a surge of courage, I scooped my hand under his warm little belly and lifted him up. He let out a little chirp, raising his disproportionally big head in a state of confusion. "This... is a dragon?" I whispered, raising it up to eye level. Its deerlike ears perked forwards like a happy horse and it reached out stubby front paws to rest its bean toes on my nose. A flash of wet blue met my skin. His tongue! He let out a cheerful chirp. I pulled it away from my face with a laugh, oddly aware that sunglasses dude was staring at me. The little bundle of energy wiggled in my hand, arms and legs flailing. "Hold on!" I laughed. Dragons must have wings, right? I reached for its side and felt tiny ridges that easily gave when I pulled a little. "Cool," I whispered as I spread it and little wings emerged, weak and thin like the wings of a bat. The baby dragon turned its head and looked at it as if realizing it had it for the first time. Then it went crazy, grinning and flapping his new body part as hard as he could. I laughed as he fell on my lap. "Okay, this is the best dream ever."
"This is not a dream." The General's voice was no longer amused. He didn't even laugh this time.
I turned to look at him, feeling little paws on my legs.
"Son, he is yours. You are his. You are now a dragon Rider," he said. "For the rest of yer life, he will be by your side. He is yer partner an' friend. He is not your pet."
"Okay..." I said, but by the tone of his voice I could tell I shouldn't be celebrating yet. "So... where are we going?"
"Elmendorf."
"Elmendorf? Aslaska?"
He nodded gravely. "By sneaking in and snagging that little man," he pointed to the beast who was trying to eat my jean button. "You have officially become government property. We are taking you to a secure training program where you will train with other dragon Riders on how to properly care for your dragon, enhance your abilities, and battle cohesively."
Well, that all sounded pretty kick-butt and awesome so far.
"After training, you will enter the Service, where you will serve a minimum of a hundred years." The General said, but before he could open his mouth to say another word I stopped him.
"A... hundred years? You're kidding right." I blinked at him.
He tossed his cigarette in the trashcan before pulling out another and lighting it. "Wish I was, kid."
"I'm an American. I've got rights, right? What if I uh... say no?" I asked brazenly.
I couldn't see his eyes but I knew he was staring me right in the eye. "You won't," he said, exhaling a great puff towards my face. I held in a breath. "And I saw your files. You're a runner. There's no running out here." He nodded to the window before frowning when he realized the windows were covered. "You've got nothing to bargain with, kid. You've got five counts of theft and breaking and entering. It's either this or juvenile detention for you, kid." He got to his feet. "Besides, you forfeited your rights when you hatched him. Riders, they're weapons, not people." He finished wryly.
"What? Just because he hatched when I was around..." I sputtered. "I'm still me! Same old me! It's not like.. like I..." I couldn't even think of how to finish my sentence and just let out a flustered breath, reaching up subconsciously to feel my still burning injection site.
The General pulled a neatly folded paper from his chest pocket and handed it to me. "Read this paper. And I advise you to feed that dragon or he'll start chewing the furniture." With that, he turned the chair back around and stomped out of the room.
"Wait!" I said but he was already in the next car over. I sighed and slumped back, running my hands through my hair. The dragon crawled up my chest and pounced on my nipple. "Ouch!" I said, feeling little claws dig into the sensitive area. "Jeez!" I plucked him off me. He bit my finger next. It actually didn't really hurt. He nommed on it, looking at me with eyes that clearly knew he was being bad.
"What did you do to me?" I asked him. "Like, I've always wanted a pet dragon. But I've never wanted to be in the military. I don't like waking up early. I don't like following orders. And I don't like uniforms." I complained. He grinned and bunny kicked my palm, his wings flapping in a burst of excitement. "Meep meep!" He said as if that actually contributed to the conversation.
"He says he's hungry." A woman laughed from the door, her lashes fluttering as she stood at my door poised like a boss in her tight skirt and puffy blouse. Her blood-red fingernails blurred as she gestured for me to get up. "Come, I'll show you to the dining car."
I slowly stood up, smelling a waft of gluten and vanilla waft from the open door. My stomach growled. I couldn't think of a thing to say as I followed her, pushing a hand over my beast's wings to keep him from flapping like crazy. I paused as we headed down the narrow hallway, rolling my ankle around experimentally. It felt.. fine. With the injury I received.... yesterday? I was sure I was supposed to be at least sore. "Huh," I murmured before stepping into the diner car. My butt felt just fine too. What kind of healing serum did they have here?
A line of restaurant-style booths were on either side of the car. At the far end, a man with a trolley was serving food to a few uniformed men and women who were chatting and laughing. At a gesture from the stewardess, I sat at an empty booth closest to the door. Behind me, two men walked in and sat across from me. I had a feeling they were keeping an eye on me to make sure I didn't run. As if I could actually escape from a moving train! That would be pretty badass, wouldn't it?
When the man with the trolley made his way to me, he unveiled a platter of pancakes under a fancy tin. Next to the pancakes he placed a mini cup of syrup, strawberry jam, and butter. Finally, he retrieved a can of Fancy Feast 'Savory Salmon Feast', opened it, then dumped it unceremoniously on a separate white platter.
"Good eats," I whispered to my new little buddy. I picked him up and set him next to the can-shaped mound of wet cat food. Then I rubbed my hands together and started to pick apart pieces of my pancake and dip them into my syrup. One benefit of living so close to Canada was the syrup. You just can't beat it. The beast seemed to agree because after only a few sniffs and a lick of his catfood, he ambled over to my food excitedly.
"Pretty sure this isn't dragon food," I said with a mouthful.
He looked up at me, then reached out for a chunk of my pancake.
"No...."
His claws came out and the pancake was yanked to his mouth. He snatched it before dragging it like a leopard off the plate where he dug into it voraciously.
I laughed, finishing my pancake just as he finished his. The next few minutes were full of flying pancakes and laughs. I forgot about the others in the car as I tossed chunk after chunk of pancake to the awkward dragon. Half the time he missed. Once he jumped and tried to flap his wings to snatch a high flyer but ended up falling backwards and bonking his head on the salt shaker. He let out a frantic squeal after that and scurried up my arm. His waxy scales pressed up against my neck as he flopped there. It wasn't long before his snoring purrs announced his descent into sleep, tummy fat and full. Playtime was over.
"Fascinating."
I looked up with narrowed eyes to find yet another person writing notes and watching me. This person wasn't a young girl. It was an old man who looked like he had discovered dinosaur DNA in a petrified mosquito. He stroked his Santa beard as he gazed at me. "Sorry." He said when he saw I had noticed his creeper stare. He got to his feet, extending a hairy arm. "I'm Doctor Charles Meyer, Rider psychologist. I hear that you're the man who managed to hatch a certain shadow dragon?" He turned his head to catch a glance at it.
I looked at his hand but didn't take it.
His hand wilted. "Uh, well, I know they sent General Landin in there to talk to you about the whole thing but if you ask me, that man's more fit for yelling at recruits than explaining anything." He laughed a little as he slid into the seat across from me. "Do you mind if I explain just a little more?"
Just a little more was an understatement. The next hour was a blur of information. I tried to remember it all but I've never been really good at remembering anything really important. Basically he told me to expect headaches, to feed my dragon regularly and how much. He even gave me a growth chart to fill in. I threw that away accidentally later on that day. He told me that by three months we would be able to communicate and in the meantime to start focusing on a buzzing in my brain. Honestly, I had no clue what he was saying half the time. What I do remember was that my little black monster was going to reach the length of a school bus! He also had a diet similar to humans. They were... what's it called? Opportunity eaters. They ate whatever was there, bugs, snakes, lizards, berries, and even moss!
I asked him tons of questions. "Do I really have to be there for a century?" "Do we fight wars--with guns?" "Will I be able to ride my dragon?"
The answers I got astounded me. While the century of slavery rang true, (and he was really vague about the war part--said that I would do special missions), what he said about flying really got me excited. "Yes of course! You'll ride the winds and conquer the skies together!" He chuckled. "Believe me, when you fly you'll never want to come down." He must have seen the look on my face because he followed up quickly with this; "Oh don't look too excited, you won't be able to fly away. They're going to have tight reins on you." Then he leaned in so close I could smell his minty breath. "But you could probably sneak in a flight or two on your own," he whispered with a wink before pulling back.
I let out a happy sigh. You bet once this little got bigger we'd fly. We'd fly farther and faster than anyone. No one could catch us, restrain us, tell us to do anything. where would I go? I've always wanted to see palm trees. Maybe California? No, farther! I'd go to Hawaii and no one would tell me that I'm too young and stupid to try.
While I was daydreaming he was still talking. "see--it would be very dangerous for civilians or worse, the enemy figured out we have dragons in our arsenal. Can you imagine the catastrophe?" he chuckled. "People would go wild!"
"Wait." I said suddenly, my mind on a different topic. "So I'm supposed to be here until I like, die? Because... I really doubt I'll be alive in a hundred years."
A smile wrinkled his face further, showing of his tic tac teeth. "Oh Justin, you'll be alive for a few hundred years if you're lucky."
"Really lucky," I snorted. Then blinked. "Wait, what?"
"You're a dragon Rider," He stood up and draped his tan jacket over one hairy forearm. "Longevity isn't the only gift he's given you."
I looked down at my empty plate, letting out a hissing breath. "Can I just go to jail now?" I wheezed. He laughed as he left.
Back in my room, I laid flat on my back listening to the train whizz, click, and groan under my pillow. I looked at him--he was definitely a him, the Doctor dude could tell just by the color of his mouth, and wondered what I'd name him He was resting on his side on my belly, one paw under his big head. His eyes were insanely large, spiked with little faux eyelashes. They flickered as he dreamed. "Killer," I whispered. He raised his tail and let out a small toot.
Nope.
"Spyro?" Nah, that wasn't original. I sucked at that game anyway. "Blacky?" I frowned, wow that was the worst yet.
Suddenly a name came to me, something I think I heard in a Catholic church that one of my more religious foster parents visited. There was a name they mentioned that was so interesting that I remembered it so I could name my pet caterpillar at the time after him. "Caedmon," I whispered, letting the name roll over my tongue.
He perked his head right up and looked at me expectantly.
"Caedmon! That's your name!" I grinned. "Hey buddy! Hey Caedmon!"
This of course got him all riled up again and his wings flapped wildly and he darted forwards and back to nip at my fingers. I laughed and wiggled them, poking his neck and sides to make him even more excited. Suddenly he froze, his muscles stiffening to the point where I poked him and he almost fell over. His eyes were trained on something in the corner of the room.
"What is it, bud?" I turned and squinted. A little bundle of shifting fur skittered across the floor to the dresser. My eyes widened. "Go. Go. Get it." I hissed.
Immediately his hind legs bunched and wiggled, his tail swaying back and forth like a raptor's. He would have looked like a cat if he just had fur. Finally with a leap of faith, he spread his front paws in anticipation.... before belly flopping to the hardwood floor a foot away from the rodent. I held back a snort and immediately felt a bit bad for wanting to laugh as he starfished there in defeat, not lifting his head. Before I could get up to pick him up and see if he was okay, his shadow moved, spreading over the floor. As soon as it reached the shade of the chair he disappeared altogether.
I blinked.
Well, there goes my dragon Riding career. I could picture it already. They were asking me "How did your great beast find its tragic end?" I looked in the camera, my face tearstained. "He... He melted."
Poor guy. Second day of life and he just splats on the floor.
Plop! Something fell on my head from the ceiling and I saw violet eyes gleaming at me upside down. Between my eyebrows, dusky, wet fur smudged onto my skin. "GROSS!" I groaned, grabbing it by the tail. "Uh... thanks for the offer buddy but.. its all yours." I leaned over and set it on the ground for him. He hopped off my head to take the mouse and choke the entire thing down whole.
"Gross," I grumbled, flopping back on the bed. It only takes a second before I feel little paws clambering up my breast bone. I looked down my nose at his cheeky face. "You're quite the hunter aren't you."
He promptly barfed the mouse's head on my face.
This was going to be a long train ride....