Prologue
Nine-year-old hunter Conan shuddered in the cold autumn night and pulled his leather jacket tighter, breathing steam. Tall pines towered over him, swaying slightly in the bitter wind.He hated to be out in the middle of the forest in the dark of night, especially to do this. But his master had been merciless, demanding he fulfill his duty as a hunter or die as a disgrace. He sighed. if that happened, his father would be devastated. he couldn't do that to him.
The young boy nervously ran a hand through his platinum-blond hair and glanced at the full moon with pastel blue eyes. What if it never came? what if the senior hunters were wrong and it never appeared? He anxiously clung to that thought, even though he knew it was a futile hope.
don't linger on such foolish thoughts, boy, his masters voice intruded his mind. it will come.
Conan stamped his feet to keep the blood flowing, causing the open iron cuffs he held to jangle ominously and glitter in the pearly light of the moon. He uncomfortably averted his eyes from the broad orb, still wishing that the hunters were wrong about one appearing tonight. The iron knife that was tucked into his boot slowly chilled his ankle, despite the woolen socks he wore. The blade was only if the beast got out of control; Conan desperately hoped he wouldn't have to use it.
It's coming your way, his master informed gruffly. longing for the will to sever the connection and push him out of his mind, Conan guiltily retreated to the edge of the clearing, his back to the moon.
The small hunter felt a shadow pass across his back.
He whirled around, eyes wide and searching, heart pounding. there was nothing there. he backed away, head darting, searching for the source of the shadow.
WHOOSH!! a gust of wind brushed his back.
Terrified, the boy spun around, whipping the blade out and and searching frantically.
Then, a dark figure glided over the pines with poise in his direction.
the beast should be landing in your position soon, his master declared, an edge of eager anticipation in his thoughts. it doesn't have a chance of escaping us now!
Conan barely heard him. he stared in wonder as the creature hovered elegantly over the clearing then landed with a precision cats would envy. The boy gaped in awe. in front of him was the creature he was trained to hunt--the dragon.
Her silver scales rippled like liquid in the moonlight, seeming delicate over corded muscles and sinews. Her head arched imperiously over the trembling boy and gazed at him with one almond shaped, royal blue eye. Tossing her head, she folded her wings proudly; the thin, almost transparent membrane seemed to be made of clouds, with soft, swirling designs that seemed so easily broken, so fragile. Yet from his training, Conan knew the only thing that could pierce it was the iron dagger that he held in his hand.
The dragon inspected him, causing the young hunter to shiver under her intelligent gaze. there was clear disapproval in her deep, deep eyes. She slowly shook her head, side to side, just like any other human who was showing censure.
Conan swallowed. and edged back.
don't be a coward! his master snapped. Now! do it now!
Conan slowly crept forward, the chains raised. The dragon shook her head again, her eyes sorrowful. why didn't she run? Why didn't she stop him? she was incredible, powerful! couldn't she simply kill him and and get away? what was it that prevented her from doing so? he halted uncertainly, lowering the deadly iron for a moment.
what are you waiting for? Now's your chance! do it, boy, before it's too late!
The dragon watched him, her eyes soft and sad. watching him, watching...
Fool! Fool! we didn't spend an entire month tracking the beast down for you to wreck it all now!
Conan took a deep, shuddering breath--and dropped both chains and dagger. they clattered to the ground, the sound shattering the night. the dragon blinked in surprise.
His master was shrieking now. What are you doing?
The young hunter didn't answer.
Fool! idiot! Mindless boy! i could have you killed for this!
Conan stepped forward, tentatively stroking the dragon on her muzzle. she snorted in surprise, causing him to jump back. The dragon shook her head again, but not in disapproval. she was assuring him, confirming that she had no intentions of harming him.
Conan licked his lips and gently ran his hand down the smooth, silver scales that flowed down her neck, feeling the pent-up power beneath.
"Conan," he breathed. "my name is Conan."
the dragon slowly blinked. "Sss-sss-Sel-eth-ra," she whispered back. Conan nodded, understanding how difficult it must be to get the human words past her long, narrow tongue and thick beak.
his master screamed in anguish. Traitor! he cried. Traitor! you could've been a great hunter, just like your father! and yet, you turn against your own, instead with this...this...this beast!
The boy screamed and fell to his knees as his master enveloped his young, fragile mind in darkness and pain, crushing him, killing him.
Traitor! Deserter! Backstabber!
Conan desperately fought back, but his attempts were feeble, powerless against the force and strength of the trained hunter.
I was a fool to take you in as an apprentice! your father claimed you could do it, that you were strong enough to to do this! Lies! Lies! I will not let you pull me down in disgrace! i will not let you join these monsters! i will not let you come back alive!
The ground rushed up to meet him, and he collapsed in a heap.
Traitor! Deserter! Backstabber! Traitor! Deserter! Backstabber! Traitor...
* * *
As the boy crumpled to the ground, Selethra gnashed her teeth in frustration and tore the ground with her claws, understanding the battle that went on inside the boy's mind. It never occurred to her that she could be so helpless!
expecting him to be already dead, she she snaked her head down to the boy, then reared in surprise.
he was still alive!
Barely, maybe, but he was still breathing, and a faint pulse echoed through his veins. The boy, she decided, must have a strong will to survive such a potent attack from someone so strong.
She gently turned him over, a new hope blooming. Perhaps she could save him if she got him to her clan on time.
Gently as a cat would with a kitten, she lifted him by the back of his leather jacket in her mouth, careful not to puncture his back or neck.
Conan...
Snaking her head around to her back, Selethra draped him across the base of her neck, close enough to her shoulders, yet far enough away so she could still fly easily. She made sure he wouldn't impale himself on one of her spines if he shifted.
Conan...
She nuzzled him gently, wishing she were able to get into his mind and drive out the terrible force that was torturing him so. and maybe attack the hunter herself if possible.
Conan...
She smiled sadly and took off into the night, careful not to jar the fragile child. she glided whenever she could.
Conan...Friend of the dragons, friend of the dragons, friend, friend...my friend, my Conan. My Conan.
Slethora tried everything she could to get into his mind. when all attempts failed, she gave up with a sigh and soared above the pines, their bristling tips brushing her underside.
.
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about Conan being to young. Thats fine you portrayed Slethora as young too.
