Category: Dragon Flight

I must take to the sky…

“I generally do not like traveling across swampy midlands, as there is no safe place to rest when tired from flying.”

Maybe, perhaps, I will garner a portion of my precious weekend hours to paint my toes dragon-scale green with blue stardust overtones and at last plant my waiting snow pea-lings, nasturtiums, and peacock violas.

For come Monday, I must ready for the fight.

As thickening dust clouds billowed around her and the ground trembled mightily underneath their feet from her bucking leaps, the other dragons feared to approach and help as they dodged sudden blasts of explosive fire from her desperate attempts to somehow burn off the parasite.

But one dragon better assesed the situation and acted.

Recognizing a type of pattern evolving in her erratic struggle, he lept high and seized an opening to land upon her back and grip her torso tightly, wrapping his limbs around her long enough to bite the cursed thing and rip it off from her head, sending it flipping.

He then pushed hard against and away from her in time to prevent her fear’s response from flipping them both backward – and as she recovered from being flung forward into the ground with a smothered “oof!” he hovered majestically above the scene and set the being’s carcass on fire with a victory cry.

Desperately wanting to belong but sending the other landed dragons scatterimg, she floundered about roaring while flapping barely healing wings and stomping wildly scrabbling claws as she blindly shook and tossed her head in attempts to get the controlling head crab to let go of it.

“It’s been a grueling road
Nurturing precious load

Of a youngling half drake
Growing wings to partake

I could fly only so high into
Azure-deep beckoning skies

Held earthbound for kit
Who learned how to flit

First in smallest circles –
Now loop de loop tricks

Looking back now years fleeting
Our valiant hearts kept beating

Among foes while protecting
Our dreams feeling neglected

Of wide open viridescent lands
Giving grace to gentler humans

Whereupon once we found
Praised as hallowed ground.”

During one such scrabbling venture, she happened upon an old man in a cave who seemed unafraid of her and beckoned her closer.

Careful to not accidentally singe him with her huffing breath, she cocked her head and focused one whirling, rainbow-hued eye upon his visage.

She knew that he must be an illusion created by her oxygen-starved brain after navigating the higher altitudes for the first time in her life because there where no paths which led there.

“But that’s just it, you see,” he told her conspiratorily, “we are all a part of this great, big illusion.”

She blinked and clambered backward, regaining a solid foothold just in time to avoid falling off from the cliff’s edge backwards.

“What do you think you will find once you get to the upper regions, my dear?” he asked her candidly.

“They are as flawed as you have always thought yourself to be – but more so – for they have not endured your trials, nor had to overcome such obstacles to gain the positions that they were born into.

You have the strength to become one of their queens, if you wanted to. But be warned that you may find yourself feeling even more lonely at the top than ever before.

No longer will you dwell in anonymity’s succor, nor so easily will you be able to retreat back into your beloved forest’s camoflage.”

It is not only desire that matters, but there also must be achievable goals which can inspire tired wings to keep reaching for the stars while leaving behind once earthly hollows.

She found her attempts at advanced flights often pummeling her into the sides of mountains as she clawed away from sheered drops, scrabbling onto temporarily-safe ledges for bouts of rest while attempting to catch up to the others soaring high above her that had had a lifetime of practice elegantly navigating the upper atmospheres.

“Some people say grounding is about money. Others say it’s about status and things.

For me, it’s picking the right trajectory so I can launch off properly as I unfurl my wings.”

The chains had been strapped tightly around the dragon’s wings for so long that they had crimped and tortured. She had forgotten that she could fly before she finally could pryze them off of her.

Yet still, she was held to ground as she practiced flapping and her wings began to unfurl as they strengthened. More chains around her body encasing like armor were anchored to stone that she could not reach, deep in the earth below her.

Then, one day, she gained help from other spellbreaker healers and the armor’s layers began disintegrating one by one. Every day, she flexed, pulled, and pushed even harder against them while she began jumping higher and higher, practicing to take off from the ground.

On this day when I had planned to ride my bike, I instead revived my inner dragon’s spirit as I felt the storm’s front hit us.

As she realized that that she was meant fly, raining hail signified her power’s returning presence.

“I have been conditioned to expect retribution if I unfurl my wings and set my gaze on open horizons.

I have been taught, as a dragon, that it is wrong to fly, and that the world does not need nor want what I have to offer in my own unique blend of mystery.

This had crippled my natural abilities, though instinctively I challenged these precepts, as the chains were cranked tighter around my limbs in punishment for testing and trying.

But over time, their logic has crumbled – for there are only so many ways to terrorize, and the birds kept bringing me other messages,

They’ve spoken of sweet springs and vast fields of seeds – of verdant greenery, and countless mother and father trees.

They’ve spoken of the earth’s landscapes, and wide open seas.

There have been times now when my mind settles (instead of fragmenting) and I get a sense of true unity within me.

But, as I break these chains that have not just held me physically – but psychologically, as well – I still encounter fear upon initially flexing.

Where are the masters who’ve inflicted pain with such cruelty?

It seems they’ve long ago forgotten about me.

But, I find myself still listening for them, and cringe at the dread left, compelling.”

Dragon wings – pinched and bruised –
Struggled against steel chains’ abuse.

Binding tight against right to flight they
Enslaved thought while she slept at night

Whispering madness – filling with dread
Once freeborn soul was proclaimed dead

Until that day that rust always dreads
As fell to floor crushed under her tread.