Dragons. It seems as if every fantasy world ever created has dragons in it somewhere. From Tolkien’s Smaug to Robert Jordan’s The Dragon Reborn, dragons are the bread and butter of fantasy.

Yet at first, not mine. Aromathus was a world that didn’t have dragons at first. Why? I originally thought them to be clichéd. EVERY fantasy world seemed to have them, so mine wouldn’t. Yet, over time, I came to a realization: Dragons are cool.

So over time, I worked dragons into the mythos of Aromathus more and more fully, until now they are a key part of that mythos. Created by forces separate from the gods of Aromathus, they are beings of incredible power and tremendous magical ability, capable, if they wished, of challenging those gods.

Someday I hope to tell the tale of the dragons of Aromathus, and it is quite a tale. For now, though, I bow to yet another reader suggestion and offer up this tale: The first time a dragon comes to Aromathus, she does so because an elf magi makes…. A mistake. Enjoy!

He threw down more of the magical sand, striving to finish the summoning circle he’d been working so feverishly to complete. “Time,” me murmured to himself. “There is never enough time. Even when Seldarine grants one as many years as he has given me, there isn’t enough time.”

The younger mages tasked to help him were looking at him askance. Young fools. They wouldn’t know which end of a wand to hold if I didn’t put it in their hands first. Scoffing, he secretly hoped that they hadn’t heard him. As incompetent as they were, he knew he needed their help to complete what they were attempting to do.

A voice broke the silence. “Master Ganthailearan! The orcs drew nearer! Huntmaster Faradaliakan wishes to know if he will be able to count on you for magical aid, or if his warriors will be required to slay all the green ones by hand!”

“Great lords of the forest!” Ganth muttered as he turned toward the messenger. “Faradal is as impatient as a damned dwarf! Go back and tell him that I will have his summoned support ready soon enough, so long as he can keep the green ones away from here long enough for us to complete our magic!”

The harried – looking runner snapped to attention before asking, “With respect, Master. But just how long will that be?”

Ganth dismissed him with a wave of his arm. “Soon enough, boy! Just tell the Huntmaster to keep the green ones away, and he’ll have his summoned beasts to help pull his hind end out of the fire!”

The messenger looked askance at him, cocking an eyebrow, but he clasped both arms across his chest, hands to throat; showing a fair representation of proper respect before starting back into the woods, jogging effortlessly toward the battle at the forest’s edge.

Shaking his head, Ganth began his work again. Damned Faradal! Boy’s been corrupted by the dwarves. Everything so hasty! Almost as bad as an orc! Ganth knew he could never voice such opinions aloud, but to a mage of over thirteen hundred summers, a newly blooded Huntmaster like Faradal did seem impatient. Couple that with the fact that Faradal was far too much in love with dwarven ways and culture…

Wanthaeomnos, the “wander-lust” that afflicted some of his people in their youth was a flaw in his people that the wizened old mage would never understand. Why would Seldarine do such a thing to us! Yet, every year a good number of elves would simply “wander away” from the villages and forests of the elves, some for a season or even several seasons, a few for years. Granted, when they returned, they tended to settle into their proper place in elven life, but some came back “changed.” Like Faradal.

There was nothing that could be done about it now. He would just have to live with the fact that in the four years Faradal was gone, he had learned tactics and warfare from the dwarves – and a good bit of dwarven impatience as well. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he began to work faster. The battle must not be going well. He could hear the bellow of orc horns drawing nearer, mixed in with calls of elven warriors shouted over the winds by magic. Must hurry.

He finished sprinkling the last of the magic sand, taking note that his apprentices were also finished, their heads turning toward him expectantly. Muttering silent curses, he pulled the scroll from the pile of supplies left beneath a large oak tree. Elven warriors should not need such help defeating the children of Grummish. Yet because of Faradal’s impatience, we do, Seldarine help us!

Unrolling the scroll, he began chanting the words written there. “Jarish Malathite, Jarsih Kominthal. Parduch ofiliam tipsanium.” The spell, when complete, would call the most powerful forest guardians from Seldarine’s abode, beasts of great natural – and magical – power who would slay their enemies. The elves didn’t like to use such magic very often, for they didn’t want to become too dependant upon the gods for aid – and the favors that they demanded in return, but the need was too great to worry about a price that would be demanded later.

Suddenly, in the middle of the third quatrain of the spell, an orc horn pierced the near-silence of the clearing. Too close! On of his apprentices shrieked, dropping her scroll as she ran deeper into the woods. Alarmingly, arrows filled the air, and Ganth could hear the cries of wounded beings – orc and elf alike. Faster! No more time!

Ganth should have known better, for magic was one thing that could not be hurried. Even as the orc warriors were about to over run him, he should have realized that it would have been better to lose his spell and flee than to continue with the chance of mis-casting that such haste entailed.

Yet he continued. “Jarish drofinum, jarish haranthaliach!” Then, as his chanting reached a crescendo, a pair of arrows struck him, one in the shoulder from an elven bow, and one in the hip from an orcish one. Grunting in pain, he misread several of the final words, words that he later realized directed his spell away from Seldarine’s realm to someplace else. Yet he didn’t care, for as he finished the spell, he cried out in pain, toppling over from the force of two arrows.

As he fell, he glanced up, and saw something filling the clearing in front of him - something very large and undoubtedly powerful, but not definitely not one of the forest guardians he had meant to summon.

Then all went black.

* * *

Looking about the forest clearing she suddenly found herself in, she realized she didn’t know where she was. Strange. I did not plane walk myself to this place. There must be a being of great magical power about. Yet… All she could see are several of the little pale servants. None of them would have the kind of power needed to pull her from her lair to here!

Standing up slowly, she unfurled her silver wings, shaking herself from head to tail. Curious. The pale servants flee! They should know better than that! She chuckled softly; she would have to speak with whoever commanded these servants.

Ouch! What was that? Some of the servants were shooting arrows at her! Suddenly her annoyance with the servants in this strange place went from minor to major; the very idea of servants shooting at her was simply intolerable! Lashing out, she flicked her tale toward the silly creature, knocking it down. That will teach it to try and harm its betters! Yet…

More arrows struck her flanks and wings. She noted that some of these came not from the pale servants, but from bestial-looking creatures such as her red and blue cousins might have magicked into existence. This must stop! Individually she knew that the servant’s arrows couldn’t possibly hurt her; it simply galled her that a servant would deign to shoot at a master! Yet… The old saying ‘death by a thousand cuts’ came to mind.

They were only servants, and so she didn’t want to kill them outright, however misled they were. True, her red cousins may have done so, but they were inclined to use force first in almost any situation. It was their greatest flaw, and caused no end of animosity between the cousins. She yelled out a command to stop…

And was shocked when the only thing that came out was a very un-dragon like roar! Something was very wrong with this place!

The servants became even more terrified. Whereas before they had seemed to be fighting each other, they now focused all their attention on her. Many arrows struck her, enough that they were starting to hurt. She also saw other servants charging toward her, wearing metal armor and carrying worked metal weapons, shouting out what she assumed to be war cries. I must stop this before the servants get hurt!

Trying her magic, she began to weave a spell of holding, one of her lesser magicks, a spell that would freeze the servants in place. The spell would allow her the time she needed to sort out what was going on. To her horror, she quickly discovered that her magic failed in this place as well. No magic, my speech confused… no longer simply worried, she was now frightened.

Launching herself into the air, she was relieved that some of her abilities still worked in this strange place. Further, the buffeting of her wings knocked down many of the servants who were shooting at her, pale and green alike. But not all of them. Those who weren’t knocked down continued to shoot at her, calling to each other in a tongue she couldn’t understand. She flew higher, trying to avoid the rain of arrows, and was shocked to behold a great host of servants of both skin colors, all of them equipped for combat – and all of them coming at her.

No! I must stop this! Servants can’t be allowed to fight each other – let along harm a master! She flew upward, then performed a wing over, beginning a dive. She tried to summon her magic again, hoping to use her magical abilities in an effort to speak the languages she heard the servants of this strange place using.

To her horror, when she did speak, words did not come forth. Rather, she breathed out a great gout of fire! Before she could stop, she had already destroyed many servants, besides starting several trees on fire as well.

No longer frightened, she was now terrified.

The servants recovered surprisingly quickly; all signs of their previous enmity toward each other apparently gone. She was now the sole focus of their fury, and between their arrows and magic, she was starting to hurt from many small wounds. Arrows tore at her wings, minor elemental magic beat at her head and body; balls of fire and lighting, gouts of acid… NO! It was too much.

She whirled about in the air, turning her body with far more ease than should have been possible. A part of her mind noted that she could fly better than at home, but that part of her mind was no longer in control; after all, for the first time in her life, death awaited unless she acted.

Great Maker forgive me! She tried to speak again, but all that came forth was more fire, lighting more of the forest – and more servants – on fire. Landing, she realized she no longer cared as the servants quickly began chopping at her with their weapons, so she responded in kind. Whipping her tail about, she cut many of the servants down like grain before a scythe. Her wings buffeted at them as well, blasts of air knocking down still more servants. Yet they kept attacking. Wounded now, conscious thought almost lost to pain and blood loss, she simply roared.

Her kind, as she later thought about it, were killing machines beyond comparison. At home, they didn’t have to fight - after all, they had created the servants to do such tasks for them. Yet here, now, in this place; she gave herself over to the fight. Talons she seldom used beyond skewering meat prepared by servants she now used to skewer those same servants. Fangs flashed, and she attacked the evil servants, slaughtering them. Anything, she thought to herself, to make it stop.

The battle, if it could be called that, went on for several more minutes. Yet she knew it was not a battle – merely a slaughter. No matter how badly these servants hurt her, they couldn’t kill her, but in her terror, she wasn’t thinking of that. Rather, she thought only of ending the pain that came at her from all directions in this strange place.

When she looked around later, she saw the mangled bodies of servants lying everywhere, and saw others running in terror. The forest was on fire, but the fires couldn’t harm her. Too tired to do anything more, she crawled over to the center of the clearing, next to a servant with two arrows in its body. She could feel the magical power coursing through it, so she carefully extended one paw around it. The servant was still breathing, and in no danger of immediate death, so she pulled it forward and clutched it in her talons, preventing escape if it woke. Laying her own head down to watch it, she decided that when the servant woke, she would have her answers

Before long, the warmth of the fires about lulled her, and soon she was as asleep as the servant.

• * * *

Ganthailearan woke with a start, the peace of his sleep quickly giving over to waves of pain and nausea from the two arrows stuck in his body. Merciful Seldarine, but that hurts! He tried to reach down, to feel at the arrow lodged in his shoulder, but was quickly halted by the pain. Gasping, he sat back in the darkness..

A thought then struck him: he couldn’t move. Not from the pain; good gods knew that was bad enough, but not enough to prevent him from moving. No, he was held – held in some sort of giant paw.

Giant paw?!? What had happened? He opened his eyes for the first time; it was very dark. He’d assumed he was in some sort of cave, but as his pain-fogged brain cleared even somewhat, he remembered that the battle with the green ones had been in the middle of a forest. Moaning, he allowed himself to sink back against the back of the “paw” that held him fast.

Gingerly, he reached out with his good arm, feeling something… scales? Like those on a fish? No, more like a lizard. A lizard? Nothing he’d ever heard of in Aromathus had scales and was this size. His hand jerked back reflexively. What in the name of all twelve gods had captured him?

A deep, low rumble answered his thought; a rumble that sounded suspiciously like… a chuckle? He wrapped his good arm about him and tried to curl up, wincing painfully. Then that rumble happened again, and Ganth whipped his head about, looking for light, for anything. Yet no matter how hard he tried, all he could see was darkness.

He moaned once more, louder this time, and offered up a prayer to Seldarine, asking for deliverance.

I don’t know who this Seldarine is, little servant, but it will not be able to help you now.

Ganth’s eyes snapped open. “What was that?” he demanded, far more bravely than he felt. “Who said that?”

Said? I don’t believe I said anything at all. But I know you can here me, little servant. My magicks may not work in this place, but strangely enough, I find I can hear your thoughts. And I know that you, little servant, are the one who called me to… this place.

“Called you? I don’t even know what you are! And I obviously didn’t intend to call you to this place, for you are more powerful than anything I have ever seen in my life! I would never intend to...

Stop shouting, little servant! The voice in his head was as loud as thunder, yet no words were spoken. You do not need to vocalize your speech for me to hear you, not as long as your flesh touches mine, I expect.

That thought was little comfort to Ganth. It can read my mind! With a gulp, he asked the creature what its name was.

The creature responded with what he hoped was a chuckle, for if it were anything else, he really didn’t want to know. My name is not pronounceable in your tongue, servant, but you may call me Andarlix. As to what I am, well, your kind may simply call us dragons.

“Dragons?” he stammered. “But I’ve never heard of ‘dragons’!”

No, I suppose you would not have, for we are obviously not native to this plane. If we were, you servants would not have been shooting at me.

Andarlix released her grip somewhat, allowing the terrified mage to move slightly. He slumped backwards, resting against her giant paw. Looking up, he could see one of the creature’s giant yellow eyes, slitted left to right like a snake or lizard, and he suppressed a moment of terror. Why did it have to be a reptile?

Reptile? Ganth looked up; he could tell the “dragon” genuinely seemed to be amused now. I am as far from one of your “reptiles” as you are from a monkey!

“I am sorry, Great One. It’s just that, well, I’m a little… afraid… of snakes.”

Good. A healthy attitude for a servant to possess.

“Servant? Why do you call me servant? I can tell you are powerful, Great One, but I have never met one of your kind before. We do not serve you for no other reason than we do not know you!”

The dragon pulled itself up slightly, tightening its grip around him again. Be grateful, little servant, that I am one of my kind, and not one of my red cousins. They would probably kill and eat a servant with such an attitude.

Ganth gulped. Eat me? He supposed it was possible, given the creature’s obvious size and power. “You won’t eat me, will you?”

This time Andarlix’s laugh was no mere chuckle; rather, it was a deep-throated laugh that echoed through the forest like rolling thunder. No, little servant. I will not eat you. We silvers do not eat mortals. Even when they deserve it. And you, for all your incompetence in summoning me here, do not.

Ganth bristled at the dragon’s comment. “Incompetence?”

I am not what you meant to summon, am I?

“No, er… I suppose not.”

That seems rather incompetent to me, doesn’t it?

Ganth was about to respond with something to prove the dragon wrong, but instead sputtered out “I have been a master wizard for almost a millennia! I am not incompe….”

He trailed off as the dragon laughed again. I am kidding, servant. I can sense the magical power in you, and I can tell that only one with your skill and power would be able to summon me here from my home, intentionally or not. Now, if I am ever to get home, I must figure out what happened, and whatever caused your spell to miscast. For that, I must admit I will need your help.

“Help?”

My magic does not seem to work here. Yours obviously does. I would know why; to do so, I would know your thoughts.

“My thoughts?” Ganth asked, growing ever more confused. “You haven’t already read my mind?”

No. This power is not normal to me. I know not what it can do, but I think that if I can speak in your mind, I can read your thoughts. Certainly, speaking in my own tongue has not worked. The dragon sighed disgustedly. No, It has only served to start these fires.”

Ganth’s confusion continued to grow. “Your speech?”

Yes, little servant. When I tried to use my magic, nothing happened. And when I tried to speak, the only thing that came out was a roar and this fire. Most upsetting to my stomach. Yet… Yet I find I can read your thoughts. This is, as you might say, most peculiar, and I wish to understand why.

“I have never heard of such a thing!”

Nor have I. It frightens me, and dragons do not frighten easily.

“But why… Why do you need my thoughts?

Quicker. Easier. Do not worry, servant. It will not harm you… I think.

Ganth didn’t know what to say, but if this “dragon” thought he would help it… He didn’t say that aloud, though. Instead, he asked. “Why do you call me servant, when you know that I am not your servant, that I am in fact responsible for bringing you here?

Andarlix snorted; a snort that brought hot flame from her nostrils. Thankfully, her paw was still wrapped around Ganth, shielding him from the fiery blast. I really must remember to stop doing that. Then she relaxed her grip on him. I call you servant because in my world, we created beings like you, beings who only exist to serve us dragons.

Wait. Ganth thought. These dragons created races like us? Why, that meant that these dragons could… could challenge the gods!

Andarlix looked down at him, her large eyes blinking left to right. Master Ganth, this is hard for one like me. To ask aid of a servant… is not done. But I am asking for your help.

Ganth turned toward her, considering briefly. “If you are as powerful as you claim, what choice do I have?”

Andarlix jaws spread apart into a smile, showing ferocious teeth. In truth, not much. But it is polite to ask, right?

Ganth could only shudder as he felt the dragon’s thoughts merging with his own. At first, he was terrified, but then the dragon’s mind was open to him, and he began to experience a depth of knowledge too great to handle, and he slumped back, too awestruck for words.

The sound he heard from the dragon sounded like wind whistling through a cave; it took Ganth a moment to realize that the sound was the dragon sighing; exhaling between those rows of teeth he had seen. Ah, yes. So much becomes clear to me now. The words entered his head, but he barely realized it. The dragon was learning from him, certainly, but he was learning from the dragon as well. And what he learned amazed him.

Spells of unparalleled power. What it felt like to fly – truly fly; Not by the aid of magic, but by the ability to soar over the land on wings. The names of other worlds, other places. Other languages, cultures. More knowledge than he had learned in all his many years. More knowledge than he could absorb in several lifetimes.

And then it was over.

“I hope that was as informative for you as it was for me.”

Ganth stood up straight. The dragon had spoken to him – out loud!

Andarlix chuckled softly. “Yes, I can speak again, thank the Maker. Your world is not so different from ours. Now that I know what you know, Ganthailearan, I was able to make the changes in my own nature to adapt to this world.”

“You can do that?”

With a snort, Andarlix replied, “Of course. You have shared my thoughts as I have shared yours. You should have at least some idea of what we dragons can do.”

Ganth bobbed his head up and down vigorously. “Yes, yes indeed. But you know so much, great one! So much knowledge… It would take me lifetimes to even begin to study it all; to even begin to learn a fraction of what you know!”

Andarlix chuckled again, louder this time. “Oh, little servant. Time is the one thing dragons always have enough of.” She reached down toward his shoulder with her other paw and deftly removed the two arrows from Ganth’s body. At the same time, she channeled some of her magic into him, knitting the wounds faster and more easily than he had ever seen any cleric do so.

Gasping in shock, he realized that the healing hurt not at all, that it had taken no energy from him to knit the wounds. “You command divine magic?”

“Not as you know of it, little servant. No, your gods are a concept that amuse me. We dragons worship only the Great Maker; the Maker is far more powerful than anything your “gods” could even dream of.

Ganth looked up into the dragons eyes, his own now as wide as saucers. “But… the gods made the world. They are the most powerful beings in existence!”

The dragon laughed again, some smoke rising from her nostrils. Ganth knew now, after sharing her thoughts, that this ability wasn’t normal to dragon kind. “To you, yes, I suppose they are.” She replied. “But we dragons are not from this world. In fact, I have never heard of this world at all, and that surprises me. We dragons are the most perfect of the Maker’s creations; we knew all there was to know. Yet… I wonder. This world, the new abilities I have already learned about here; this place intrigues me, little servant. Perhaps I and my kind will return here and study this place. Perhaps… perhaps the Maker has made a new place for his most perfect creations to study and learn about.

Ganth paused, unsure of what to say, his thoughts awhirl. “But, but…” he stammered. “But we elves are the pinicale of creation! Not even dwarves or the green skins come close to our perfection!”

“Perfection!” Andarlix snorted. “Back home, we dragons have created many races, some a great deal like you. No, I assure you. You may be ‘perfect’ in your own way, but you are not unique.” Andralix paused her speech as she stood up, stretching out her wings. “Tell me, servant. All this magic tires me. Do you have any prey animals around here? I grow hungry.”

“We have, I mean.. Ummm, well, we have sheep back at my village. Assuming it is still standing, after the Green Ones attacked. I am sure we could arrange something….”

“Arrange?” Andarlix laughed at his response. “Dragons do not arrange, servant. Be glad I am of my kind, and not one of the reds or blues. We metallics ask before we take. A chromatic would just eat you.”

Ganth gulped. “Ah, right, Great One. I see your point.” He stood himself, still amazed at the dragons magical healing ability; he felt as if he hadn’t been hurt at all. “Well, I suppose you should follow me then.

“Follow?” Andarlix reacted with amazing quickness, snatching him in one paw. “How about you tell me where to go, and I fly us there?”

Ganth looked down as Andarlix beat her mighty wings, pushing them into the air with a running start. They pulled away from the ground quickly, leaving the burned out forest clearing behind them in heartbeats. One thing was for certain, he thought to himself as he tried to control his terror at flying – flying! The world will never be the same.

Oh, that much is certain, little servant. With that, Andarlix beat her wings harder, driving them toward home.