Dreams Can Come True - 5. Chapter 5

Percy the dragon had an idea. It was the kind of idea that came to mind and then refused to go away no matter how hard you tried. It was right there in front of him every time he saw Deirdre. Basically, he saw the beauty in her and knew only one thing could satisfy him. He had to become a man.

When he approached the sorcerer’s cottage he saw the great oak and knew he was in for trouble unless the sorcerer came out to help him. Great oaks definitely didn’t like dragons and this one had pixies in it, too, which made it practically deadly.

“Uh, Gregor? I think we’re going to have a visitor,” Exetor the pixie said.

Gregor looked up and saw Percy circling above them. Either the dragon was going to come in for a landing or he was going to blast them with fire. Whatever the situation, he had to be prepared for the worst.

“Know much about dragons?” Gregor asked.

“Great oaks don’t like them, pixies don’t like them, humans don’t like them and dwarfs, well, dwarfs will tolerate them if they stay out of their caverns,” Exetor said. “I think this one wants to land. He seems to be circling to make his approach. This is that one down toward the dwarfs isn’t it?”

“I suppose,” Gregor said. “They came here complaining about it, so I assume they must live nearby.”

“Just stay between the dragon and the great oak, that’s all I can say,” Exetor said before blinking out into the netherworld where most of the other beings lived.

Percy saw the pixie leave the sorcerer’s presence so he performed his one-eighty turn and paralleled the cottage getting his bearing on a suitable landing spot. Unfortunately, the sorcerer was standing in the perfect spot, so he was going to have to perform a short field landing hoping his rear claws dug into the turf sufficiently to prevent a forward roll toward the great oak. He wasn’t in the mood to have his scales toasted with a burst of lightening, which the oak would give him if he got too close.

Turning the last one-eighty into his final approach, Percy arched his back putting his rear claws well forward of his center of gravity, while extending his wings full out to catch the maximum amount of air. This was going to be a dicey landing, but if the turf was strong, it should go alright. He just wished the sorcerer would move out of the way. This was going to definitely hurt.

The sorcerer must have seen Percy’s situation because he moved slightly to his left, toward the cottages near the mountain. Percy was maintaining just enough airspeed to avoid stalling and crashing into the rocks below. He aimed for a spot ten yards in front of the sorcerer. At the last moment, he dropped his tail catching a bit of extra air and ever so softly swept onto the turf. His claws bit into the turf and he fell forward fully expecting to somersault toward the great oak, but something stopped him. He looked up and saw the sorcerer holding his hand up.

“You’ve truly become a great sorcerer,” Percy said as he restored his composure as a dragon.

“I read a scroll about caring for dragons,” Gregor said. “It seems the sorcerers of old usually kept a dragon around for odd jobs.”

“Yeah, they were called pets,” Percy said. “Dragons aren’t pets. I’ve heard we burned a few sorcerers to gain our freedom.”

“Yes, I read that, too,” Gregor said. “So, what can I do for you?”

“Deirdre and I have been talking about whether you could turn me into a man,” Percy lied. “I think she wants children or maybe she just wants to fool around a bit, whatever that is. I don’t know much about human women. I suppose you do?”

“A bit, mine just gave birth to triplets,” Gregor said, “and now she won’t allow me back into the bed. She said she needs time. Would you like to see the babies?”

“Uh, no, I don’t think so, at least not until you turn me into a man,” Percy said. “Babies are just like candy to a dragon, just one isn’t enough and then you eat too many and end up with a tummy ache. Full grown humans are different, of course, tougher, gamier, and give me gas.”

“Gregor! Supper’s ready!” Rubiette called out the kitchen window. “Oh, shit! We’ve got a visitor. Edwina, quick take the babies back into the bedroom and don’t come out until I say so.”

“Gregor! What is that dragon doing here?” Rubiette asked as she ran out of the cottage brandishing an axe.

“Wait, he’s a friend,” Gregor said.

“Friend my fat ass, that’s a dragon and they’re dangerous around babies,” Rubiette said.

“I said it was okay!” Gregor exclaimed as lightening shot out of the top of his head and grounded onto the dwarf’s axe. Rubiette suddenly stopped and stood as if frozen in place, her face full of astonishment.

“Er, I can go if this isn’t convenient,” Percy said.

“You stay right where you are,” Gregor said as lightening flashed around him, grounding out on the cottage, the great oak, and the turf around Rubiette and Percy. “Do you want to be fully a man and lose your immortality or do you want a temporary spell, where you’d be a dragon part of the time and return to your immortal spirit when Deirdre died?”

“I want it to be full time,” Percy said. “If I’m going to go, might as well go all the way.”

“Okay, I’ll have to research this a bit, but I’m certain it can be accomplished,” Gregor said. “Where will you live?”

“I don’t know, definitely not back in her village,” Percy said. “People would put two and two together and I’d end up being burnt at the stake, which does sound rather ironic, doesn’t it.”

“Let me ask around, I’m thinking of a place you and Deirdre might find suitable, considering you’ll be a former dragon and might not be welcome among normal people.”

“Whatever you can do, I’m sure Deirdre will appreciate,” Percy said, whereupon he turned and ran off the side of the mountain and flew out toward his home.

“Oh, yes, you can go and do whatever you want,” Gregor said to Rubiette.

She stared at him for a moment then hurried into the cottage.

Gregor stood where he’d been talking to Percy and thought about how he was going to turn an immortal dragon into a mortal man. That was definitely going to take some mighty strong magic. Was he up to it?

A scroll suddenly appeared at his feet. Gregor picked it up and began reading the ancient language as if he’d known it from the beginning of his existence. After a short while, he smiled.

- - - - - - - - - -

“There’s a bevy of elves round the bend roasting a stag,” Karn said. “Are you good with your sword?”

“I won a blue ribbon in parrying at Ye Olde Faire,” Pink said proudly.

“A blue ribbon and that would mean?” Arthur asked.

“You know, royal purple for first place, vermillion red for second, azure blue for third, and then green, yellow, brown, and a whole lot of whites for honorable mentions,” Pink said with an unusual air of authority.

“How come you didn’t win?” Kisk asked.

“Nicked the other chap,” Pink said sadly. “That’s against the rules. Luckily, I’m gentry and didn’t get a black ribbon.”

“You drew blood and didn’t win?” Karn asked. “That sounds stupid!”

“Oh, no, it’s parrying, you’re not supposed to actually draw any blood. Unfortunately, I only got a white ribbon in thrusting, hewing, and running through.”

“In other words, your only experience with a sword has been courtyard practice and contests at medieval faires,” Arthur said.

“Yes,” Pink said sheepishly.

“Well, that settles it, we’re going to have to go around them and hope to Mother Earth none of their nymphs notice us,” Karn said. “We’ll go back to the last village and take the other road. It’s longer and goes over two passes instead of just the one, but at least there shouldn’t be any more elves. Are you sure you’re a knight?”

“Yes, I’ve been dubbed and given the kit, too,” Pink said.

“Well, at least you’re the top,” Karn said, looking at Arthur.

“How did you know? We haven’t done anything around you,” Arthur said.

“Nymphs like to tell stories,” Karn said.

“Oh, yeah, nymphs,” Arthur said. “Sometimes I think they can talk to nymphs all over the world.”

They were nearly six months beyond the pass where they met the dwarfs and Pink quickly learned he was not to speak unless spoken to. He was not from the Hinterland and, therefore, could not offer anything useful to a conversation. Not even Kisk, the lower ranking dwarf would engage him in any degree of congenial repartee. He had only Arthur and, even then, they had to talk out of hearing of the dwarves. It was as if they didn’t like the way he talked.

Well, of course, he had an accent. Hinterlandian wasn’t an easy language to learn let alone speak. He was used to putting the verb where it belonged, but Hinterlandian for some obscure reason stuck it way down toward the end. A person could talk all day long and you wouldn’t actually know what was happening until the very end. And, he was always doing it wrong. Plus, the dwarfs spoke an entirely different language, one that Arthur could speak, but Pink couldn’t. The three of them were always chattering away while he had to sit and wait for a Hinterlandian word to drop in where a dwarf word didn’t quite fit.

Pink just wished he could feel a part of this little endeavor. After all, it was his quest they were on. He was the knight who was going to slay the dragon. The dwarfs were just leading him to the slaughter and Arthur was along to help him with the natives and, well, to give him a good fuck now and then, but with the dwarfs around, they hadn’t been able to do even that.

“Dwarfs are a prudish folk,” Arthur said one day when they had stopped in a Badsomething-or-other for a soak and the dwarfs went off to do whatever it was dwarfs did. They definitely didn’t soak in a bad. “They don’t mind us being a couple, but they don’t want us to show any affection around them. They’ll slice off your wee willy and feed it to the crows if they even catch you wanking in the woods. They’re that bad. So, it’s no kissing, no eyeing each other and getting hard, and, definitely no touchy-feely stuff. They’ll cleave us head to groin and leave us for carrion.”

So, they had two prudes who didn’t like humans from beyond the great river. They barely tolerated Hinterlandian humans, until they got closer to the darkest parts of the Hinterland.

It didn’t take Pink long to decide they might be better off without the dwarfs, until the incident with the elves. The dwarfs’ nymphs were always scouting out ahead and they’d run into a drum of elfin nymphs. Luckily, dwarf nymphs are better armed and were able to take out the enemy forces, sending them back to the netherworld where they belonged.

If it had been just him and Arthur, they would’ve stumbled right into the elfin camp and be on the menu tonight instead of the stag. So, maybe, it was okay if the dwarfs were with them. He just wished he could talk to them. He had a lot of questions he’d like answered.

It was getting on toward nightfall, but they didn’t stop. The only thing they did now and then was to dismount and walk beside their horses for a couple miles, then remount and ride on. Fairies lit their way with a low, dim light just enough for them to see stones or roots that might make them stumble, but not so bright to attract unwanted attention.

Suddenly, Karn stopped and the fairy light went dark. Pink hoped it wasn’t more elves. That was the last thing they needed.

“It’s a goblin,” Karn hissed to Arthur, who whispered it to Kisk.

“Shut yours! We might be in for it,” Kisk hissed at Pink.

Pink knew enough not to make any noise whatever the situation. A goblin? He didn’t think they got this far south. They were more likely found among the Norsk, Celts, and as far away as the mythical Hebrides, or at least that was the legend. From what he remembered from his childhood fairytales, goblins were grotesque creatures that ate little children that played in the woods. That was more than enough reason to keep him in the castle.

“It wants to parley,” Karn whispered. “Knight! Put on your gear. We’ll need you to make an impression.”

“Come on we’ll help,” Arthur said with Kisk in tow. “We can’t keep the goblin waiting or it might just take an ass and do with it as it pleases.”

“Eat it?” Pink dared to ask.

“No!” Kisk exclaimed. “Goblins don’t eat asses; they do them. You know, do them. Like Arthur here does you.”

“And then we can take it with us,” Pink dared again.

“No, dummy, it’ll do the ass until it goes crazy or dies of starvation or thirst,” Kisk said. “Just do me a favor and stop asking questions. Go up with Karn and act very knightish and whatever you do, don’t say a word. The last thing we need is a guffawing goblin. Every creature within miles will be down on us and we’ll be lucky to get out with our lives. You two, on the other hand, will likely end up on the local elfin menu. Do you understand?”

“Yes, shut up, I’ve been doing fairly well at that recently,” Pink said as they latched his helm, handed him his shield and great sword, and bowed to his supposed superiority.

He walked up to Karn who put out an arm to hold him back. Pink looked down, but the dwarf was looking up the trail. Pink followed Karn’s eyes and beheld a being half again as tall as a man; slender, but with gnarled muscles showing through its thin, umber skin, a prominent bulge in its leather loincloth, and a long, prominent nose between two blood red eyes and above a mouth full of straggly teeth, and no hair, anywhere.

Its words were unintelligible to Pink, but he was certain Karn fully knew them. Karn nudged him with his elbow.

“I am Sir Pink Daisy,” Pink said. “I am on a holy quest to slay a dragon giving trouble to these kindly dwarfs.”

Karn translated and the goblin stared at Pink. Then he said something to which Karn responding with a laugh. Then the goblin walked off into the forest.

“Keep your garb on until we reach a suitable camp or the village,” Karn said. “It’ll make it easier if we run into any more night creatures. The goblin’s gone off to eat a few elves. Goblins will pass up an ass any day of the week if there’s elfin meat around. Oh, by the way, you did good.”

“Thanks,” Pink said.

“But don’t push your luck,” Karn said.

“Yes, I know, I know, don’t speak unless spoke to,” Pink said as he turned and walked back to his horse. Arthur and Kisk helped him remount.