FSE

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Chapter 2

The next few days were spent in the forest learning to hunt. Dervacor had never lived off the land before. He was a blacksmith and artist in town and his work was well received in Talair, but that did him little good in the wilderness. He only managed to catch two rabbits the last couple weeks while travelling; their lean meat and some mixed nuts in his pack were all he had to eat until meeting Flicker.

The lessons were a good distraction from his thoughts. Flicker was excellent at catching small game and knowledgeable in foraging. She was patient with his fumbling

"Relax, match the calm of the water," she said softly as the two waded knee deep in a narrow stream. Flicker frequently caught fish with her bare hands, but was teaching Dervacor with a three pronged wooden stick. Silver scales flickered in the sunlight underneath flashing ripples in the water whenever a fish darted past. "Find your position and be still, do not kick up mud or it will scare off the fish."

Spotting a large, slow fish Dervacor grinned and lunged at it with his pole. Water splashed, he felt his spear smack into something. Water swirled around him and he saw the fish dart through his legs. He had only struck clay. Frowning he turned to Flicker who shook her head, "you cannot move so dramatically, you give up your intent too easily. Find your moment and quickly flick your wrist before following through."

The blue dragon waited for his mind to calm and match the water. He swayed slightly feeling the breeze, his green eyes efficiently scanned the water. He stood poised, waiting.

"Good," flicker whispered.

With renewed interest he watched the water. Time did not matter, his goal right now was to blend in with nature. A small fish darted past him, but it wasn't the right time. Flicker had been teaching him about the nature of picking your moment.

Just yesterday with her twin throwing hatchets, they had crouched in the shade after an hour of stalking game trails. "You wait for the right moment, do not throw when you think you will hit your target." Flicker had said, "focus, empty your mind, and wait. When it is not possible to miss, that is when you strike." That was when they both released their axes, and for the first time he hit his target. Hunting was a struggle before he met Flicker, his previous catches were earned through pure determination and stamina.

This was much more elegant.

With mind and body relaxed he felt the right second tick as he flicked his wrist smoothly before following through with the weight of his shoulder. His spear struck and he pulled up a large salmon struggling weakly. Flicker shouted happily running through the water she leapt against him with a hug. They had been out here for hours. Dervacor laughed, carefully trying to keep his fish from flopping away as the other dragon celebrated with him. "If I had known it meant so much to you I'd have caught one earlier," he joked.

Picking the right moment was everything.

The two made their way back to her cave. His mind wandered idly on the walk. Before he met Flicker he had no plans, he only knew he had to leave. He was afraid of losing his mind to the flame within him as much as he feared getting caught.

When he saw Flicker's brilliant lick of fire his world changed. That first day he had so many questions about her ability, but Flicker insisted he eat, rest, and recover. "That is a topic for a ready mind," she insisted. Instead he told her about his home and how he arrived.

Flicker asked about his smithing and listened attentively as he described the art of shaping metal. From basic cutlery to the iconic dual bladed shek'har requiring high quality metals and months of folding to make a uniform blend. Flicker's appetite for knowledge seemed difficult to sate.

She hadn't shared anything about fire breathing, but she talked happily about her home in the misty mountains.

Flicker came from a simple village named Shale. When a young dragoness enters adulthood she sent out into the world. Her task is to acquire knowledge and something of value. Most dragonesses leave for a year and return with tools, books, spices, and stories of travel.

Flicker had been roaming nomadically for three years, partially due to wanderlust, but also because she wanted something unique to return with.

Dervacor smiled to himself as the trail wound back to the familiar cave entrance. He was lucky to have met the grey dragoness. Her fiery wit and caring nature made good company.

The two dragons arrived as the sun kissed the mountain range. Crickets had just began chirping, the sky was a brilliant liquid gold, only a few tufts of pink tinted cloud were visible in an otherwise clear sky. Dervacor gathered some firewood from outside and Flicker gently blew fire into existence. As they set up the grill he simply sat down. Flicker settled across from him and smiled, "you seem ready."

He simply nodded.

"You cannot let it control you," Flicker paused, searching for words. "Every dragon in Shale can breathe fire."

Dervacor turned the meat, "how is that possible? There is a way to stop the madness?" He was curious, but not alarmed. He had been unable to breathe flames since his last desperate moment, but Flicker seemed to possess an easy mastery of her fire.

In Talair whelps who blew smoke at a young age were taken from their parents and quietly sacrificed in the hopes of averting future crises. It was uncommon for smoke to be blown, and fire had been unheard of in his generation. Dervacor had not shown any signs until just a couple weeks ago. As a grown dragon it had come as a surprise when it happened.

The memory rolled darkly and unbidden across his mind.

He had been walking through the village market on his way home after a day of selling wares. He remembered ducking into a back alley when he was assaulted suddenly by three large dragons. They had grabbed his satchel and struck him several times before tossing him to the ground bleeding. The ruffians were walking away when Dervacor's eyes glinted dangerously and something came over him.

A burning at the back of his throat was working its way out, he wanted to scream at them. Rage boiled in his mind. Opening his mouth a gout of flame caught the dragon in the middle just as he turned around wide-eyed. The other two fled screaming, dropping his belongings.

Shouts had erupted in the market as the burning dragon ran aimlessly into the crowded space.

After that his thoughts blurred until he was running through the darkness outside of town with trackers in pursuit. It was ugly, scary, everything village legend warned about. He was dangerous, and the lost time between setting the thief ablaze and finding himself fleeing in the darkness chilled him to his core.

His thoughts were interrupted, "you look troubled, but you can relax," Flicker said. "I'll teach you to cool your inner fire. It can only boil your mind if you lose control."

The two locked eyes for a moment, Flicker looked away, it seemed something was bothering her. "Can every dragon control their fire?" Dervacor asked quietly.

"Some choose not to. Some dragons succumb to rage or sadness. If you let your inner flame burn wildly you become less. Those dragons lose themselves, their minds fade away. What remains is a feral shell of a dragon; wild and violent." A sad look crossed her features, she sighed, and looked up into Dervacor's concerned eyes, "you have a good spirit, though, you have little to fear."

"Thank you," Dervacor warbled softly. Flicker smiled, wrapped in her own thoughts. The two sat quietly and ate.

Tomorrow he would harness his inner flame.