eChapter 3f



The scorching sun drove into Laikirr’s scales.  He had never felt such heat.  He had to find shelter.  His mouth was dry; he didn’t have enough energy to move on.  The young Golden dragon collapsed into the burning, red sand.  Why in the world would Glyphon want to live in such a barren wasteland?  Laikirr thought to himself, Why would anyone? 

     He closed his eyes, thinking back to when Lirria was taken.  He felt ashamed for letting her be kidnapped, and by Duavrock at that.  He felt a tear leak out of his eye.  Quickly, before it soaked into his scales, he shook his head, splattering the tiny little firey tear onto the desert sand.  It sunk right through, leaving a tiny hole in the sand.  All of a sudden, the earth underneath him gave way, only to be replaced by a large spring of water.  He spluttered to the top and noticed trees growing at an impossible rate around the oasis.  He gaped at what his dragon tear had been capable of. 

     As he swam to the bank, once again surprised at how large the pool had become, he slurped water down his parched throat.  When he reached the bank, he sighed in exhaustion, collapsing onto the now cool soil.  Immediately, he slipped into a deep sleep with no dreams, only the darkness of true sleep.  


Laikirr woke suddenly, his vision blurred by his tiredness.  He glared into the desert and his oasis around him.  “Who’s there?”  He called out hoarsely.  He stared out over the pool in front of him.  The moonlight shone evenly onto the surface.  Out of nowhere, a rock landed on his head.  He jumped forward, plunging head first into the water.  His head shot up out of the water and he spluttered and choked.  Now, he was wide awake. 

     “Who’s there?”  He bellowed in fury.  He glared around the oasis.  

     As he turned a large pale orange dragon landed in front of him.  It was about twice his size.  Laikirr jumped back, only to have the large he-dragon laugh heartily at him. 

     “Who are you?”  Laikirr did not like being laughed at.  He glared at the dragon before him. 

     It cocked its head to the right and smiled toothily.  “Well then.  I haven’t seen a Goldie in a very long time.”  He smiled at Laikirr in amusement, making him growl under his breath.  “My, aren’t you an aggressive one.  Calm down now young dragonling.  I am Treskial.” 

     Laikirr continued glaring at him, and then stopped to think.  Maybe I could ask him about Glyphon.  He stared into Treskial’s eyes and said, “I am searching for the FireStrom Glyphon, the Master of Flight.  It is of uttermost importance.  Do you know where he is?”  He forgot momentarily about respecting his elders and quickly added, “My lord Treskial.”  He bowed his ever so slightly. 

     Treskial pursed his lips, giving off a slightly pearly essence.  Laikirr ignored this.  “Well, if I must say so myself, it is quite an honour for me to tell you that I know exactly where Glyphon lives.”  He smiled a hidden smile. 

     Laikirr felt his excitement travel through his entire body.  “Please can you tell me where he is, please.  I’ll do anything.” 

     “Well then, I guess if you’ll do anything I may be able to help you.”  He smiled another toothy smile.  “Come with me, I am hungry youngling.  Let us eat some fire ants.”  He started walking away, expecting Laikirr to follow him. 

     “Excuse me?”  Laikirr exclaimed, “This is of uttermost importance.  Please!” 

     Treskial just kept walking.  “Patience is a virtue.  Come now so I can have some company for the time being.” 

     Laikirr sighed in frustration and pounded after him, stamping his feet as loud as he possibly could, but only found it harder to walk.  His feet were sinking into the sand every time he hit his feet into the sand.  He pulled his feet from the thick sand and jumped over the sand agilely and stealthily. 

     They stopped in front of a strange mound, where the older dragon blew a small vein of fire onto the top of the mound.  Laikirr felt his impatience growing.  From a small hole at the top of the mound, hundreds of ants started coming out.  Treskial flicked his long tongue from his mouth and licked some of the ants into his mouth.  When he started chewing, it made a loud crunching noise.  “Oh, I always like them crunchy.”  He looked to Laikirr and said, “Have some, but remember to bite before they bite you.”  He chuckled quietly at his own joke. 

     Laikirr eyed the mound suspiciously; he felt a slight wind glide over his scales.  He put his mouth over the hole in the mound and sucked the ant from the hole.  He felt them squirming in his mouth and spat them straight into Treskial’s face.  Looking up into Treskial’s face he stumbled backwards.  The older dragon’s face had become a mask of complete anger. 

     “You foolish little hatchling!” he bellowed in anger, making Laikirr flinch. 

     “But I need to find Glyphon.  Please?  You said you would help me.”  He stared adamantly at the older dragon. 

     “Are you that worthless in flight boy?  Is that why you wish to find the Master of Flight?”  He thundered, “You have no patience, no respect or discipline to become my apprentice!” 

     Laikirr felt the sting of his words.  His eyes widened and his mouth fell open, exposing his sharp teeth, as he realised whom he had spat in the face.  “You’re Master Glyphon?”  His voice came out as a tiny whisper. 

     “Yes you idiotic hatchling!  I am Glyphon.  I am the Master of Flight, and had you shown me enough patience I would have taken it upon myself to make you my second apprentice.”  He stared at Laikirr and asked, critically, “Have you nothing to say for yourself boy?” 

     Laikirr stared into the eyes of the Master of Flight.  He remembered Lirradon telling him stories of the four FireStroms.  He remembered all those times when he had played with all the other drakes, when they had asked him to tell them the stories. 

     “Say something fool, there is a sand storm coming and I do not wish to be stuck in it.” 

     “My father told me you were like this.  You care for nothing but patience.” 

     Glyphon looked at the young dragonling sceptically.  “Who’s your father?” 

     “Lirradon, the Great Golden Dragon of the Straphetal Dragons, Leader of the Haillek Clan.”  Laikirr paused, wondering whether or not to tell Glyphon his own name. 

     Glyphon’s eyes widened slightly.  He had an intake of breath.  He stared down into Laikirr’s eyes and said, “It was nice meeting you.”  At that he flew away. 

     As soon as Glyphon was gone, Laikirr started to feel the wind he had felt earlier become stronger, faster.  He took off into the air, after Glyphon.  He would not loose him.  He flew hard. 

     All of a sudden the wind he had felt earlier struck him hard, throwing him to the side.  He forced his wings to move against the wind.  He could feel sand spattering against his scales.  This was the sand storm Glyphon had been speaking of, and it was only the beginning.  Far away, he could see Glyphon swerving and diving.  He was moving away from the wind, sometimes plunging into it.  He mimicked the movements and flew faster.  Soon he would catch up to him. 

     Up ahead, he saw Glyphon move toward the ground.  He landed and disappeared into a cave.  Laikirr flew, his limbs aching.  He plummeted down toward the cave, landing with a thud behind Glyphon. 

     He stared down at Laikirr, his eyes wide.  “You truly are the son of Lirradon.”  He moved over to the shaking young dragon and folded his wings over him.  “Come now, my boy and tell me where my dearest drakehood friend is.” 

     Together, they walked into the slightly lighted cave. 

The End

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