THE DRAGON PRINCE TRILOGY
By Savanna
Tristan looked nervously behind him as he galloped through the Dark Woods of Sondo, in the world of Dra’Ca. There were no more soldiers following; they had all fallen into the Great Chasm a few kilometers back. Eighteen-year-old Tristan slowed his horse to a trot and Tristan swallowed. The fact that he suddenly turned into a dragon in the moonlight the night before, and that the king saw meant Tristan had to flee Sondo. Tristan himself was confused and mortified. He had simply gotten irritated with his supposed younger sister, and the next thing he knew, he was perched on the edge of the bluff, with his reddish-yellow wings spread, ready to fly. It wasn’t until the sun came up that Tristan turned back into a human. Since the evil King Silenus saw him, Tristan was chased out of Sondo by the king’s soldiers. Tristan knew he was not related to the man his mother was married to. He knew his mother was sick and ready to die, and he knew he had to find his grandfather, who might be able to help him.
Soon enough, Tristan came to the little cottage where his grandfather lived. As he walked to the door, Tristan paused and looked at his reflection in the window. He didn’t look any different than he always had; dark brown, tousled hair, dark brown eyes, and a clear, sun-tanned complexion and a wiry figure. He tried to stand straighter and taller, even though he was taller than his older brother. Finally, Tristan went inside his grandfather’s house. He was shocked to see what he did see. Lying on the cot on the floor was his grandfather — dead. Tristan frowned, still very confused. He went to the bookcase, hoping to look for some clue to why all this was happening. He found what he was looking for. On the very top shelf was a thick, big book with no title. Tristan opened it and found that some pages in the middle were cut out, leaving a small box which held a piece of folded paper. Tristan took the paper out and set the book on the table. After a glance at his dead grandfather, whom he had never been close to, he unfolded the paper and read it to himself.
Dear Tristan, it read, I write this as I take my final breaths, as there is something you must know. I knew your mother would never tell you, because she regretted what she did after she did it, as many wrongdoers do. When your mother was just fourteen, she began to wander off into the Valley of Wind, in the Eastern region. Of course, your grandmother and I began to worry about her, and one day, she didn’t come home from the Valley. I went to look for her, and when I found her, she was in a sort of grotto with a few dragons. You were always taught that dragons were dangerous, of course, because your mother didn’t want you to know the truth. Anyway, against your grandmother and my wishes, your mother continued to visit the dragons in the Valley of Wind. When she was sixteen, we found out she was pregnant. Naturally, your grandmother and I knew that we would have to keep your mother from going to the Valley again, even though we knew that now that she was pregnant, there was nothing we could do. We moved to Sondo, then. It wasn’t until you were born that we found out who your father was. We always thought it must be the unicorn breeder, Karr, because he and your mother were always good friends. But it wasn’t the unicorn breeder. It was the dragon king. Unfortunately, his name slips my mind, but that doesn’t matter. What I’m trying to tell you is — you know your mother is dying quickly. In order to bring her health back, you must find the dragon king — your father. He will tell you what to do. Take my sword, my bow and arrows, and my armor in the back of the wardrobe in my bedroom. It is what I wore on my mission to slay the dragon (no offense) who once terrorized Sondo. With all due respect, Gregor, aka Grandfather. Tristan couldn’t believe what he was reading. He turned to look at his dead grandfather.
“With all due respect?!” he cried to no one in particular. “My father is a dragon, and I apparently begin turning into a dragon during full moons, and no one ever told me? Now I have to go find my dragon father to help save my mother. Dragons are hostile! There is no due respect with that.” Tristan swallowed and fought back tears, ready to break. Even though you probably have never been in this situation, I’m sure you know how confused and frightened Tristan must have been. He ran his fingers through his hair and went to his grandfather’s bedroom. He got the armor out of the wardrobe and laid it out on the small table. The armor looked as though it was made of some sort of reptile skin–Tristan thought maybe it was gorgon skin. It had unicorn horns on the shoulders and it was decorated with ornate designs of Minotaurs and human skulls. Tristan sighed and slipped the armor over his tunic. He put the intrinsic, armored boots on and headed back to the centre room, where his grandfather lay. Tristan went out into the night and built a funeral pyre. When the fire was going, Tristan went back inside and lifted his grandfather into his arms. As his grandfather burned, Tristan mounted his horse and rode away, on his quest to find his father and save his mother. He had gathered a few books on dragons and magic and some food from his grandfather’s pantry and put them in a leather pack around his shoulder. Tristan looked up at his star sign, Sagittarius, and sighed, thinking of his grandfather. He wanted to ask so many questions, but instead, they were answered before they could be asked in the letter. Still, Tristan wished he could’ve talked to his grandfather. He kept riding until he could no longer keep his eyes open, then he stopped to rest.
The next morning, Tristan awoke to his mare, Fagon, nuzzling him with her nose. Tristan sat up and stroked Fagon’s neck.
“You hungry?” he asked with a chuckle. The horse whinnied in reply and Tristan fed her an apple from a nearby tree. He looked around and sighed. He had come a long way the night before. He was now days away from Sondo, and he had gotten there in one night’s time. He went to his pack and pulled out the book about dragons. He opened right to a page that explained where the Eastern dragons dwelt. It told of valleys, gorges, and mountains in the East, where the “friendly” dragons resided, safe away from the torture of humans who didn’t enjoy the dragons’ company. Like me, Tristan thought with a shudder at the second thought that he was the offspring of a dragon. The book also said that in order to get to the hospitable dragons, you had to pass through the Great Lake of Remorse, which was where all your sadness and regret came to you at once. Tristan had heard of great warriors, even, who had tried to cross this lake and not survived. After the Great Lake of Remorse, you had to get by the Valley of Fire, ruled by the hostile dragons and their humanoid warrior queen. Tristan raised his eyebrows and looked at Fagon.
“Well, this should be fun,” he said grimly. He gathered his things and mounted Fagon. As he rode along, an arrow whooshed by his ear. He swiftly dismounted Fagon and readied his bow and arrow.
“Who’s there?” he called. Another arrow flew by, nearly hitting Tristan. Tristan shot his arrow in the direction the opposing arrow had come in, and he heard a small squeal of, “Oh!”
“I said who’s there?” Tristan called again, getting another arrow and pointing it in the same direction. “Show yourself or I’ll shoot again.”
There was a rustling in the bushes and a girl stepped out. She was about Tristan’s age, and she was wearing the armor and clothing of a knight. She had long, flowing blond hair that reached her knees, and eyes as green as the trees and vines of the forest.
“Who are you?” she asked Tristan. Tristan raised one eyebrow.
“That’s what I was wondering about you,” he said. The girl put one hand on her hip.
“I’m Hanna, if you must know,” she said, holding her hand out to shake. Tristan didn’t move, and he looked the girl from head to toe.
“Tristan,” he said. “What are you doing out here, in the middle of the woods, dressed like a boy, shooting innocent passers-by?” Hanna looked at Tristan as if he had asked her if pigs could fly.
“I,” she started, “am simply... practicing my aim.”
“You’re not doing a very good job at it.”
“Well, what are you doing out here in the middle of the woods, Mr. You’re-not-doing-a-very-good-job-at-it?”
Tristan frowned and mounted Fagon.
“I’m out here for two reasons,” he said. “One, I have to find something to cure my mother’s illness. Two, I have to find my father to do that.” Hanna’s face lit up.
“I could help,” she said eagerly. Tristan automatically shook his head.
“I don’t need help,” he said. “Especially not from you.” Hanna looked offended, and of course, because she was a young lady, and Tristan knew he couldn’t leave her behind in the woods, he said, “Fine, get on.” Hanna mounted behind Tristan on Fagon and they rode off.
“I think you’re running away,” Hanna said after a few hours of silence. Tristan frowned, but didn’t look at her.
“What makes you think that?” he asked. Hanna raised her eyebrows.
“Well, for one thing, you asked me what makes me think that,” she said. “That means you must be hiding something. And, you’re not talking. My deductions tell me that’s because you’re stressed and confused.” Tristan sighed.
“Unfortunately for me, you’re pretty much correct,” he said. “My king wants to kill me because I, um, frightened a few people of his court. And, of course, my mother is slowly dying, and I know that the only way I can save her is to go to my father.”
Hanna Hmm-ed and Tristan swallowed, hoping she wouldn’t ask any more questions.
The next afternoon, Tristan, Hanna, and Fagon arrived at the shore of the Great Lake of Remorse. It was foggy and humid, and only slightly windy. Tristan saw an abandoned vessel big enough for himself, Hanna, Fagon, and probably another horse. They all climbed aboard and Hanna and Tristan began to row. As soon as they were in the water, Tristan began to feel his sadness and confusion. Hanna remembered things she had done in the past which she regretted, and even Fagon recalled her previous, abusive owners. Hanna and Tristan tried to push their emotions away, but they kept coming, and Tristan suddenly got an image in his head of his dying, coughing, and wheezing mother. Hanna had a vivid flashback of her past, and Fagon couldn’t fight the pain of past whippings. She began to get fidgety and Tristan frowned at her.
“What’s the matter, old girl?” he asked, stroking the horse’s mane. Suddenly, Fagon began to take backward steps toward the edge of the ship. Tristan grabbed onto her bridle and let go of his oar. When Hanna saw that he was struggling with Fagon, she put her oar down and helped him try and pull Fagon back.
“Come on, Fagon,” Tristan said, his voice shaking as he knew what would happen. “Come on, girl, you have to fight. We’ve been through some tough times, but we can always get through. Fight, Fagon, please!” Tristan was fighting vigorously to hold back his tears. Fagon pulled herself out of Tristan’s strong grip, and the next thing Tristan knew, there was a splash and his beloved horse was gone; drowned in her past. Hanna put a gentle hand on Tristan’s shoulder and he broke down into her shoulder as she wrapped her arms around him.
“Tristan, we have to fight,” she said. “If we go on like this, we’ll end up like Fagon. Let’s go.” She went back to her oar and Tristan followed, his chin quivering. They kept rowing and as Tristan looked back at where they had just been stopped, he saw Fagon’s bridle float to the surface of the water. He blinked and turned away.
“We’re alright,” Hanna said reassuringly when they were on the other side of the lake. Tristan nodded silently without looking at Hanna and she walked by his side. After another few moments of silence, Hanna stood on her tiptoes and pecked Tristan on the cheek, and then she walked on ahead. Tristan didn’t mind of course, and he gave a small, amused smile.
A couple of days later, Hanna was walking at a small distance, and Tristan heard her let out a loud gasp.
“Tristan,” she called. Tristan ran to her, and she was standing in a canyon. That’s not what was remarkable, though. On the top of the bluff on the other side of the canyon, eerily depicted against the orange colored, dusky sky, there was a massive dragon skeleton. Scattered about the canyon floor around Tristan and Hanna’s feet were bones of the skeleton’s meals.
“Apparently they weren’t enough to feed him,” Tristan muttered. Something sparkled by Hanna’s foot, and Tristan leaned down and picked it up. It was a dragon’s foot, cleanly severed from the body and bloodless. It was a sparkling green with opal colored markings, and Tristan frowned in melancholy.
“How do you think he died up there in that position?” Hanna asked, looking at the skeleton. Tristan glanced at it and wet his lips, shaking his head.
“Well, it couldn’t have fallen, because it would have fallen head-first,” she continued. Tristan looked at her.
“I don’t know, alright?” he snapped. Hanna shut her mouth and Tristan shook his head. He put his hand on Hanna’s shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” he said briefly, and then he started climbing up the side of the canyon. As he found his footing, he heard a shriek from Hanna. When he looked down at her, she was pointing toward the skeleton. Tristan looked and gasped. The skeleton was rising from the ground and getting ready to fly.
“Tristan, get down from there!” Hanna called. Tristan looked down at Hanna as he started to climb down.
“Get in that gorge!” he said. The un-dead dragon made an ear-piercing screech and Hanna frowned.
“Why –”
“Get in there!” Tristan yelled. Hanna immediately ran into a little five-foot-wide gorge, where Tristan knew the dragon couldn’t get her. Tristan finally reached the ground and scrambled to get the book of spells from his pack. As he walked backward, watching the dragon, and holding his sword ready and the book open in the other hand, he searched for a spell to at least appease a dragon.
“Forcus jakade ylone!” he shouted. Nothing happened, and the dragon started to fly down toward Tristan. He stumbled a little and turned to run into the gorge with Hanna. The dragon tried following, but he didn’t fit in the narrow gorge. Tristan flipped through the pages of the spell book for a different spell.
“Galapa hydros kallima,” Tristan started, but Hanna snatched the book away.
“You’re reading a spell to change water to blood,” she said. “That’s not what we need.” She turned through the book and found the correct spell, which put the living dead back to sleep. She pointed at the dragon and took a deep breath.
“Darina draco slumbros,” she said, almost in a whisper. The dragon, surprisingly to Tristan, screeched once more, and then began falling from the sky. When he hit the ground, the dragon seemingly biodegraded into the earth. Hanna released the breath she had been holding.
“You,” Tristan started, looking at her with a shocked expression. “The way you pointed your finger like that....Are you a wizard?” Hanna started out of the gorge, and without looking at Tristan, said, “I used to be a sorceress’ apprentice. She thought I was too independent, that I didn’t rely on the elements for help. She dismissed me, and I haven’t uttered a spell since. Well, aside from the one I just said.” Tristan raised his eyebrows.
“A sorceress’ apprentice,” he muttered to himself. “Cool.” Tristan looked at the dragon foot once more before they left.
“Relic of the Dragon,” Hanna said. Tristan nodded slowly and hoped to death that none of the dragon remains were his father. He found himself actually wanting to see his father, the “friendly” dragon king of the East.
“Tristan,” Hanna said when they were back on track. He looked at her. “Where are we going, anyway?”
“We are going to, uh,” he started, and he ran his fingers through his hair. “We’re going to the Valley of Wind in the East. To find my father.” Hanna looked at him, knowing there was more.
“The Valley of Wind,” she said. “Also known as Dragons’ Fortress, right? What’s your father doing at Dragons’ Fortress?”
“Uh,” he started. “He lives there with the dragons.” Why didn’t you just tell her? Tristan chided himself. Hanna raised one eyebrow and laughed.
“I know you’re hiding something big, but I don’t know what it is, and I’m not going to ask,” she said. Tristan shrugged, and they walked on in the direction of The Valley of Fire.
That night, Tristan and Hanna were resting, and Tristan built a fire. Tristan lay on his back beside Hanna with his hands behind his head. She was already asleep. Tristan looked up at Sagittarius. He didn’t know what Hanna’s sign was, but he guessed she was a Leo, which would mean both their signs were fire. Tristan knew that it wasn’t a good thing to be in love with a person of the same constellation, but he admitted to himself that he was. Although, it was just a guess. He sighed, and soon he was asleep and dreaming.
Tristan, save me. Save me, please. Tristan looked around frantically for his mother, who was calling him. He heard another female’s voice. Tristan, help! He turned and saw Hanna, being led away by a tall, shadowy figure wearing a hooded cloak and holding a scythe. He turned back to his mother. Tristan, save me, she said. Tristan looked back to see Hanna disappear into the darkness with the Grim Reaper. Her screams were now muffled and fading. He looked at his mother, and suddenly, the poor, sick woman began to transform into an ugly, horrifying hag. The hag leapt at Tristan and he covered his head with his arm, and suddenly he transformed into a dragon. He tried blowing a breath of fire at the hag who used to be his mother, but nothing came out except a wheeze. The hag leapt at Tristan again, this time with an extremely long sword. Tristan covered himself with one of his massive wings, but the hag kept coming.
“Tristan,” Hanna gently shook Tristan awake, and he bolted up, sweating and breathing hard. “Tristan, you were having a nightmare.” Tristan looked at Hanna and furrowed his brow worriedly. If it was a nightmare, it was the most vivid nightmare he had ever had.
“Are you alright?” Hanna asked, stroking Tristan’s hair gently and motherly. “What happened?” Tristan swallowed and continued to frown, as if he were still dreaming.
“My mother,” he said. “She died, and transformed into this...this monster and you...” Hanna shook her head and took his hand. She looked him lovingly in the eyes.
“It’s over, alright?” she said. Tristan nodded and the sun began to come up. He stood and put his armor on, and kicked out the fire. Then he and Hanna began walking.
“This is where it’s supposed to be,” Tristan said a few hours later, when they came to an open, barren dust bowl.
“I see no fire,” Hanna said. Tristan shrugged and looked in the back of the dragon book, where it had a map to get to the Valley of Wind. He took a step forward, and suddenly the ground gave in. Tristan threw his arms in the air and Hanna grabbed onto his hands, although that just pulled her down with him. They landed in the middle of what looked like a throne room, only the walls were made out of what looked like lava rock.
“The Valley of Fire,” Hanna uttered. Tristan swallowed.
“That is correct,” a suave voice said from behind them. They turned around and gasped at what they saw. There was a young woman, probably a few years older than Tristan, and she had snake-like — not real snakes, mind you — long, whitish hair, Elf-like ears, and her clear skin had a greenish-bluish-silver tint to it. Behind her, however, was the thing that Tristan and Hanna gasp. There was an enormous, bluish-green dragon with two horns, and her head resembled that of a horned lizard.
“What brings you to my domain?” the woman said.
“Who are you?” Tristan asked. The woman looked at her dragon, whispered something to the creature, and looked back at Tristan.
“I am Jade, the Dragon Mage of the West,” she said. “And who are you two?”
“I’m –” Hanna started, but Tristan elbowed her in the ribs.
“Who do you think we are?” he asked. “Your highness.” This seemed to ease the mage, and she stood up straight.
“I expect you are Vaegra, the wizard’s apprentice, and her master, Graeme, come to learn about dragon sorcery. Am I correct?” Tristan looked at Hanna and they nodded.
“Graeme,” Tristan said, bowing slightly. “At your service. Vaegra, pay your respects to this great sorceress.” Hanna bowed and Jade’s dragon flew away.
“That was Kili,” Jade said, referring to the dragon. “She is my assistant. Don’t get near her, though. She bites.” Jade smiled mysteriously and Tristan looked at Hanna uneasily.
“Well,” Jade said. “Let’s get you situated.”
Once Hanna and Tristan had a room, which roughly resembled the inside of a volcano, and had a similar climate, they discussed the matter of Vaegra and Master Graeme.
“Vaegra was my master,” Hanna said from behind the changing screen. “Graeme was her master, and she murdered him in his sleep one night, because he cheated her and taught her the wrong spell purposely. She wanted to know how to bend fire, but the spell Graeme taught her set forests of abroad on fire, destructively.” Tristan looked toward the changing screen as he pulled his armor and his shirt off.
“Why did she want to be a fire-bender?” he asked Hanna. She sighed and came out wearing a nightgown.
“I don’t know,” she said as she climbed into her bed. Tristan frowned and looked at her, but she wasn’t facing him.
“Good night,” Hanna said when Tristan was in bed.
“Night,” he muttered, and Hanna blew the candle out.
“I don’t like Jade,” Tristan said suddenly. Hanna looked at him.
“Why don’t you like her? I think she seems composed.”
Tristan looked at Hanna and put his hands behind his head.
“I think she knows who we really are,” he said. “You saw how she was looking at me at dinner.”
“She was looking at you like that because she probably knows you’re not a wizard,” Hanna said, chuckling. “You’re not very sorcerer-like.”
“Well, gee, thanks,” Tristan said. Hanna laughed and propped herself up on one elbow.
“You seem like a Sagittarius,” she said, her voice lowering to a whisper after hearing someone in the hallway outside.
“What makes you say that?” Tristan asked, looking at the ceiling. Hanna shrugged one shoulder.
“You have a fiery, but assertive and purposeful, personality,” she said. “Like my father.” Tristan raised his eyebrows.
“Probably like my father, as well,” he said. He looked at Hanna. “What are you?”
“Scorpio,” she said. “I’m a water sign, like my mother.” Tristan nodded.
“The yin and the yang,” he said, meaning to say it to himself. Hanna frowned. “You know, like I’m a fire sign, and you’re a water sign. They’re opposites. All opposites form a balance.”
“I think you would make a good sorcerer,” Hanna said after a moment. Tristan sighed, and Hanna turned to where her back was facing Tristan. He closed his eyes and fell asleep. At around four in the morning, Tristan woke up of a bad dream again. Hanna was still asleep, he saw, and he quietly got out of bed and went to the window. He looked out at the fiery lake of lava and island-like rocks, and he wondered if this was similar to where his father lived. Tristan stayed in front of the window until morning, meditating. Hanna appeared by his side when morning came.
“You had another bad dream,” she said, gently putting her hand in his shoulder. Tristan shook his head, but Hanna knew better. “I heard you.”
“It was the same dream,” he said. “I keep having it over and over again.” Hanna looked at Tristan.
“What is it about?” she asked softly. Tristan shook his head and sighed.
“I was just in this...this black hole,” he started. “And I heard my mother calling to me for help. I saw her. She was in her death bed, wheezing and coughing. Then I heard you, and you were telling me to save you. I turned around and you were being pulled away into the darkness by a personification of death. When I turned back to my mother, she transformed into a hag, and she leapt at me, maliciously....” Tristan trailed off and realized his hands were shaking. Hanna took one tenderly and avoided eye-contact.
“It was just a dream,” she said, trying not to sound unsure. Tristan swallowed and shook his head slightly.
“I have to save her,” he said. Hanna put her arm around Tristan’s shoulders lovingly and said softly, “We’ll find your father.”
“It’s been nearly a month since I ran away,” he said. “Why does it have to take so long? It was going perfectly until I lost Fagon. She was my... my friend. We did so much together, and then she remembered her owners before me. She was my best friend, and I was hers.” Hanna gently comforted Tristan, and she looked at him.
“Well, we found the Valley of Fire,” she said. “Now we just have to get out of it, and find the Valley of Wind, right?” Tristan looked into Hanna’s eyes.
“Today,” he said. “Did you hear that?” Hanna frowned and listened. There were voices coming from the island rocks down below the window.
“They’re not who I thought they were,” Jade was saying to her dragon. “Terminate them.”
“Master,” the dragon, Kili, said. Her voice was smooth and mellifluous. “They’re humans, not rats. Can’t we help them?”
“Kili, if you help those humans,” Jade said, “not only will I cut you off from the valley, where you go to for comfort, but I will also personally slay you. Understand?” The dragon closed her mouth, but said no more. Tristan quickly put his shirt and his armor back on, and Hanna threw on a dress over her nightgown, and they started out into the wide, tall-ceilinged hallway.
“How are we gonna get out?” Hanna asked. “Do you have a plan?” Tristan winced and he pulled Hanna into a dark corner when someone passed.
“I’m working on it,” he whispered. Hanna shook her head in ridicule.
“Well, why don’t –” she started. Tristan put his hand over her mouth as Jade came down the hallway and went into Tristan and Hanna’s room.
“Where are the humans?” she shouted. Tristan and Hanna began running down the hallway away from Jade.
“Get rid of her!” Tristan said to Hanna. Hanna swallowed and sighed.
“Colompos rattus!” she said without looking at Jade. Tristan looked behind them and his eyes widened.
“She’s a –” he started. Hanna pulled him by the hand around a corner.
“A rat, I know,” she said. “But she won’t be one for long. She’s a sorceress. Spells only work for three hours on wizards, et cetera.”
“Great,” Tristan said.
“Yeah,” Hanna agreed. They found themselves on an island of rock in the lava sea. There was a screech, and Tristan and Hanna looked up. Kili was flying above them.
“I’ll help you!” she said. “When I get there, climb on my back!” Hanna looked at Tristan unsurely.
“Trust her,” he said, and Kili swooped down and Tristan and Hanna scrambled onto her back.
“Cover your heads!” Kili said. “We’re going up above.” Hanna frowned, and Tristan covered her head with his arm. They broke through the sand and found themselves in the middle of a sandstorm. Kili flew above the clouds, however, and they were out of the sand.
“Oh no,” Tristan said. Hanna looked at him. “Tonight is a full moon.”
“Are you afraid of the moon, human?” Kili asked. Hanna looked at Tristan again.
“No,” she said. “He’s not. He just keeps track of the lunar paths.” Tristan looked at Hanna gratefully, but slightly confusedly. Hanna didn’t know he was a dragon. How did she know to cover for him?
“Thank you, Kili,” Hanna said to the dragon. “We owe you one.”
“My name isn’t Kili,” the dragon said. “That’s just what Jade called me. My real name is Rani. And I owe you one. I’ve been looking for an excuse to get out from under that witch’s clutches, and saving you was that escape.”
“Well,” Tristan said. “You could take us to the Valley of Wind. I have to find my father.”
“What’s your father doing at the Dragons’ Fortress? That’s where my father was born,” Rani said.
“That’s my question,” Hanna said, looking at Tristan. He frowned slightly.
“I said he lives there,” he said. “I suppose that’s not enough for you, hmm?” Both Hanna and Rani shook their heads. “Well, that’s all you’re getting.”
“Rani, can you stop down here?” Tristan asked at around five o’ clock, when the sun just started going down. “I want to go to sleep, and I’m not going to be able to up here.” Rani agreed, and they flew down into a thick wood. Tristan built a fire—with the help of Rani, of course—and then started to wander off.
“Where are you going?” Hanna asked.
“Just for a walk,” he said.
“Would you like me to come with you?” she asked. Tristan shook his head and continued into the woods. He tried not to look like he was in a hurry, although he had to beat the moon to a cave or some other hiding place. When he found a grotto on the bank of a lake, he went inside and the moon came up. It was bright and full, and as the moon shone upon him, Tristan transformed into a great, red dragon with gold markings, two ram-like horns, sharp teeth, a snake-like tongue, and enormous, soaring wings. He tried not to make any noise, but he couldn’t help his whimpering. Suddenly, however, as he paused the whimpering, he heard another, similar sound. It sounded like an eagle’s call, only it came from a dragon, Tristan knew. He wanted to fly around to try to find the other dragon, hoping to make a companion, but he didn’t want to frighten Hanna or Rani if they though he was a Western dragon. Just as he was about to drift off to sleep, he heard the cry again, and he looked out into the moonlit night-time sky. Silhouetted against the moon was the figure of a dragon. She was a purple, shimmery color, and she had turquoise colored markings and a turquoise colored tongue. Her head was plainer in horns and such, but she had one, short horn on her nose. Strangely, her green eyes looked familiar to Tristan. He called the dragon, and she flew to the entrance of the cave.
“What’s your name?” the female dragon said, her voice reminding Tristan of the clearness of an amethyst. Tristan stepped out into the moonlight.
“Hanna?” he said softly. The dragon’s brow furrowed.
“Yes?” she said.
“It’s me,” Tristan said, almost in a whisper. “Tristan.” Hanna took a step backward, and she tried covering her face with one of her wings.
“Hanna, it’s alright,” Tristan said. “My father is the dragon king. When I turned eighteen, I began changing into a dragon every full moon. That’s why we have to go to the Valley of Wind to find my father—because he is a dragon.” Hanna looked sadly at him.
“That’s how it goes, then,” she said. “Every full moon. I’d noticed that.” She stepped closer to Tristan and sighed.
“What do you mean?” he asked. Hanna avoided eye-contact.
“When I was fourteen,” she said. “I stole a gold necklace from the market in my home country. When my brother found out, I was drunk and I told him not to tell. He refused and I went crazy. I strangled and killed him. The next day, I ran away from home, horrified and mortified. I found my first master, a wizard called Morglum. When he found out what I did to my brother, he put a curse on me, so that every full moon, I turned into...into this. A dragon.” Tristan was filled with regret over every unkind word he had ever said to Hanna.
“Hanna, I’m sorry. I didn’t know—” he started.
“I know you didn’t,” she interrupted. “After he put the curse on me, I ran away from him and found Vaegra, who welcomed me even for my curse and my past. She always told me to forget the past, but I never could.” Tristan tried to find words, but he couldn’t. He moved toward Hanna and he nuzzled her neck with his nose, as a sort of gesture of affection. It wasn’t long before the sun came up, and both Hanna and Tristan began turning back into humans. When they were back to normal, Tristan embraced Hanna. She seemed to melt into him and let out the emotions she had always held in. She didn’t cry, mind you. Hanna tried to never cry.
“Let’s go,” Tristan said, taking Hanna’s hand and starting toward the campfire where Rani was still asleep.
“Tristan, wait,” Hanna said. Tristan looked at her. “Only true love’s first kiss will break the curse.”
“If I kissed you, it wouldn’t be my first kiss,” Tristan said with a wince. Hanna looked utterly devastated, and Tristan wished he could find words to tell Hanna he loved her, but he couldn’t seem to. They walked to Rani, and when she awoke, they started to finish their journey to the Valley of Wind.
“Well, whoever named this place definitely named it out of experience,” Tristan said when they were in the Valley of Wind. He stood beside Hanna and Rani at the entrance to the valley. In front of them was a small stream, and on the sides of them were great, grassy green hills dotted with caves.
“Where do we find your father?” Hanna asked. Tristan shrugged and did what any eighteen-year-old boy might do.
“Hello!” he shouted after he cupped his hands around his mouth. His voice echoed off the walls. Suddenly, something Tristan had not expected or anticipated happened. Dozens upon dozens of dragons flew out from their caves. Hanna looked at Tristan and elbowed his arm.
“Who is it you seek?” a great, blue dragon with brown patches and slightly tattered wings said. He stepped in front of the other dragons, and Tristan instinctively and gently pushed Hanna behind him.
“The Dragon King of the East,” Tristan said. “He is my father. My name is Tristan. My mother’s name is Lyla.” There were murmurs from the other dragons of such things as “Could it be?” and “Is it him?” and “Where has he been all this time?” Tristan looked at Hanna and she shrugged slightly.
“Check for the mark!” a skeptical dragon shouted. Tristan looked at Hanna again, and she pushed him forward.
“Only the son of the great Dragon King would have the same marking of Sagittarius, the archer, on the bottom of his right foot,” the blue and brown dragon said. Tristan looked at his feet and the blue and brown dragon looked at Tristan, waiting.
“Take your right shoe off,” Hanna whispered to Tristan. He nodded and took off his shoe. On the bottom of his foot was, in fact, a birthmark vaguely resembled the archer of Sagittarius. The dragons gasped and the blue and brown dragon flew into the air, and up into a huge cave at the top of the valley. Hanna took Tristan’s hand and he squeezed it in return. Another dragon flew down in front of Tristan and Hanna. Tristan lost his breath, knowing that this majestic, golden dragon was his father. He knelt on one knee and the Dragon King smiled very softly.
“My prince,” he said. Tristan raised his head and looked at his father. “Arise, my son. They are the ones who should be bowing to you.” The king waved his five-fingered, clawed hand over the crowd of dragons and they immediately bowed low to the ground when Tristan stood. He looked around and saw even Hanna and Rani bowing.
“We have awaited your arrival, my son,” the Dragon King said. Tristan looked at his father, soaking in the feeling of being recognized as the Dragon Prince, and then he remembered why he made the journey in the first place.
“Your majesty,” Tristan said. The King looked at him. “I have come here to request something of you. My mother is dying—” gasps from the other dragons “—and I was told that you could help me find something to cure her illness.” The Dragon King looked at Tristan.
“Let us go, then,” he said. Tristan frowned and the Dragon King led Tristan and Hanna to a cave low to the ground.
“When I met your mother,” the King said. “The first meal we ate together was of pomegranates from the tree of eternal life, which is in a garden, the Garden of Zallia, about three days north of here. The fruit on that tree is golden, and the tree itself has leaves made of gold. It is, however, guarded by a witch named Nambroth. She dwells at the gate of the garden, and has been known to bring your regrets upon you, and defeat you by using your own weakness of remorse.” Tristan wet his lips.
“How do you get passed her?” he asked. The Dragon King pulled a book off a shelf built into the wall.
“A sorcerer or sorceress must study the spell on page four hundred one of this book, very carefully,” the King said. “If not performed correctly, the spell could be your downfall.” Tristan nodded and took the book. He handed it to Hanna.
“Will you come with me, and help me?” he asked, taking her hand. Hanna looked at him.
“Of course,” she said after a moment. The Dragon King looked at Hanna.
“You are a brave young woman,” he said. “I can tell you will be a successful sorceress one day.” Hanna bowed and smiled softly.
“Thank you, your majesty,” she said, only Tristan could hear the fear and lack of confidence in her voice.
“If you don’t mind, milady,” the Dragon King said to Hanna, “I would like a moment with my prince.” Hanna nodded and left the cage.
“Something is bothering you, my son,” the King said. Tristan swallowed.
“A few things,” he replied. The Dragon King looked kindly into Tristan’s eyes.
“A very wise woman once said that talking not only helps express your feelings, but it renews your soul,” he said. “You know who that woman was?” Tristan shook his head. “Your mother.”
“It’s just that Hanna turns into a dragon every full moon, like I do,” Tristan said. “She wants to be a normal girl, but the only way for her to break the spell is her true love’s first kiss. If I kiss her, it’ll be her first kiss and not mine. I love her, but she’ll stay like she is for the rest of her life.” The Dragon King nodded slowly.
“Long ago in our community, when I was just a prince,” he said. “There was a human girl who turned into an ogre every night at midnight. The only way to break the spell was true love’s first kiss. Now, she knew that even if the young man she loved kissed her, nothing would change, because he had kissed someone before. Well, she came to my father, and he told her something I will never forget. It’s not your first kiss that matters. It’s the first kiss you give to your true love.” Tristan furrowed his brow, deep in thought.
“Sleep on it, my prince,” the Dragon King said after a minute. Tristan nodded and they went out into the daylight.
“Our prince has come!” the King proclaimed to the other dragons. There was loud cheering, but Tristan tried not to look upset. He still had one other problem. He turned into a dragon every full moon, and he wanted to return to Sondo in peace. He looked at Hanna, who was grinning at him from Rani’s back. To Tristan, it seemed like everyone was acting as if he had completed his mission of saving his mother, but he was only beginning.
