“Where are we?” he wondered aloud, looking around. Night was falling quickly, and while Khollo knew he should be finding shelter and scouting for enemies, he was too lost in the novelty of discovery to do much but wonder.
This is home, the dragon replied. We can explore tomorrow. For now, rest. Long flight is not easy.
Khollo nodded. “I’ll keep watch. After all, I slept on the way here. You did all the work.”
No need for watch.
“But – ”
There are no enemies here, I am sure of it.
Khollo shrugged, unconvinced. “Have it your way.” He looked around for a place to sleep, but the ground was covered in soft, moist earth. Finally, he spread his cloak over a moss-covered boulder and lay down carefully. The boulder was not quite large enough to be comfortable, but it was dry and off of the steamy ground. The dragon opened its mouth and breathed out a short blast of flame, turning in a circle and charring the ground. Then it settled down and curled up, its tail wrapped around its body, growling contentedly. Tiny flames still danced in a ring around the emerald beast, gradually dying down as they consumed the bits of greenery that sustained them.
Khollo tried to sleep, but he was too excited and worried. Excited for the adventure that awaited him the next day, worried for his friends at the West Bank and the people of the Sthan Kingdom. How is Ishkabur faring? Has the new king sent troops south yet to meet the vertaga? Khollo sighed in frustration and rolled over, looking at the sleeping dragon.
I can’t go back without his help, Khollo reflected. I don’t know where I am or in what direction I need to go to return. Until I can convince him to return me to the West Bank, I’m stuck here, and there’s nothing I can do about it.
What if he never agrees to take me back? Khollo thought suddenly. What if I’m doomed to stay here for the rest of my life? Once he had the thought, Khollo’s mind bombarded him with ever more disturbing questions about what the future might hold, until he had quite exhausted himself from worrying. Finally, sometime after midnight, Khollo dropped off to sleep, emotionally and mentally spent.
The next morning dawned bright and clear, with not a cloud in the sky. The ground was as warm and moist as ever, the air a thick brew. Khollo found that he was sweating even before he rose from his boulder, stiff and sore. He stretched and groaned, his muscles protesting the uncomfortable night.
As Khollo began to stir, so did the dragon, snorting and snuffling, its tail twitching restlessly. Finally, it opened its opalescent eyes and yawned hugely, revealing row upon row of sharp, serrated teeth.
“Good morning,” Khollo said cheerfully, rubbing the creature’s scaly neck. “Recovered from the flight?”
Hungry, the dragon announced. Time for food.
Khollo’s own stomach rumbled at the thought of breakfast. “Where do you think we could find food around here?” he asked, looking around.
Saw fat herds to the north, the dragon reminded him. Go hunting.
“Works for me,” Khollo agreed.
The dragon extended a foreleg and Khollo climbed up to his perch from the previous night. His legs were sore and rubbed nearly raw from contact with the dragon’s scales, but there was nothing he could do about that. He’d just have to endure the pain until he could find some way to mitigate the problem.
Once Khollo was settled, the dragon launched itself skyward, great wings straining. The valley dropped away and Khollo belatedly realized that he had left his cloak behind. Oh well, I won’t need it in this heat anyway, he reflected.
The dragon swooped over the valley, then climbed quickly up to the mountains, aiming for a gap between two peaks. They approached the stone guardians of the valley, the shoulders of the mountains rising up beneath them until Khollo could clearly make out individual leaves on the branches and animals moving through the underbrush. Then the land fell away again and the dragon began descending to compensate, gliding on silent wings towards the plains to the north.
As they left the forest, Khollo realized that the sea was on both sides of them, sandy shores running parallel in the east and west. It appeared they had landed on an island, and one of substantial size and abundant resources. For he could see great herds milling about the plains, and a wide, slow moving river winding lazily northwards. Could it be that the Sthan do not know of this place? Khollo wondered. Am I outside the kingdom that rules the entire world?
His ruminations were interrupted as the dragon went into a steep dive, barreling towards a herd of wild steers roaming a little way from the river. Khollo yelled, with fright at first. Then, his fear turned to a fierce and reckless joy at being free, at flying effortlessly over lands which would have taken hours to traverse on foot.
The herd finally took notice of the dragon and beasts cried out in alarm. The herd began running to the north, trying to outpace the dragon. Khollo yelled a challenge and the dragon roared in reply. A steer broke off to one side, startled and disoriented. Before he could return to the safety of the herd, the dragon was descending, the talons on its forefeet outstretched. The beast cried out in pure animal fear, then the dragon’s talons slashed it across the throat.
The dragon wheeled around and settled over the kill, slicing open the steer’s stomach. Khollo dismounted and watched the process curiously. The dragon examined the steaming entrails and the red meat, and started to lower its head to eat. Then, it paused.
Sorry, the dragon said, reaching out
