Willow

The child smiled. Piklesme recoiled, his wings clipped as though pierced by the flaming arrows of the ancient Battle of Hidalgo. But Piklesme’s wings were not harmed, nor injured, they simply did not cooperate for him to fly away. The dragon had been doing a routine search of the forest perimeter when a blinding burst of light captured his attention. Intrigued, Piklesme hovered over the clearing where the light had bounced to the moons and then disappeared into the darkness as quickly as it appeared. Piklesme was intrigued by what could have caused the occurrence and decided to investigate. Landing amid the canopy of trees did not seem hazardous at the time. Not once did the dragon consider this sundry of a find. The most dangerous of all creatures imaginable. It was human. And if that was not bad enough, this human was very young. Alone in the forest, on the sacred grounds of the Trilogos, sat a human child.

The creature wobbled from side to side when it tried to stand. Piklesme flapped his wings but his heavy limbs would not work to give him flight. Trapped on the ground Piklesme was alarmed. His dragon heart pounded in his chest. Piklesme had never seen such a tiny human babe. The child watched the dragon with wide eyes and a tilted head. The babe looked innocent enough, but Piklesme knew the devious actions that humans were capable of. Perhaps the kid was lost, its kin surely must be nearby. The offspring of such vile creatures, Piklesme did not hesitate. He knew he must act while the child was unguarded. The dragon’s nostrils flared, his breathing heavy, summoning the firedrake flamethrower that kindled evermore in the dragon’s belly. Piklesme did not know how the child came to be alone in the woods or why it was there in the first place.

But he knew that he must destroy it.

Kill or be killed.

Piklesme must eliminate the threat. He or his kind would never escape the vengeance of the child’s kin if it was discovered that the child was harmed. It would not matter that the child had wandered into the dragon’s territory. It was bad luck on the child’s part, being here. If Piklesme did not abolish the child, it was only a matter of time before another caused the child’s ruin. Either way, the dragons would be blamed and no dragon would ever be safe again. They would be hunted on their lands until they were no more. There would be no escape, so safe harbor for the dragon kind. Centuries of the peace treaty would be null and void. No, it was better to just get rid of the child like it had never been here at all.

Piklesme arched his back and sucked in a deep breath of air. He must eliminate the child. Burn it into ash that danced on the wind, drifting over the mountains and into the valley below. Make it as though the child never existed.

No one would know. No one would find out. It would be the dragon’s secret, to keep to himself for infinity.

With that thought, the dragon’s vision was distorted. The lush forest surroundings blinked in rapid succession before all things went dark and blank, as though the sun had dipped low on the horizon and the moonlight was erased.

Piklesme choked back the fire breath and squeezed his big yellow eyes open and closed, just to make sure it was his eyes that were deficient. With eyes wide open all he could see was the darkness that surrounded him. With the loss of vision, he could not monitor where the child was. Or what the child was doing.

Piklesme wanted to get out of there, get away from the danger.

Piklesme started to back away, as slow and sure-footed as he could muster. Walking was not something dragons did often, much less backwards. It was a last resort when no other options existed. A dragon’s flight was the preferred method of travel but since he located the child, that option evaded him. His wings would not flap. Now too, his eyes failed him for his vision was lost.

“What is your name?” The child did not speak, yet the question leaped into Piklesme’s mind.

Piklesme froze. The dragon blinked his blind eyes. The situation could not get any worse. Not only was this child human, it had the power to speak right into the dragon’s mind.

Was it a witch? Warlock? Piklesme did not know, the child he saw, when he had the gift of vision, was too young.

“What is your name?”

Piklesme lifted and unfurled his talon claw, holding it outwards to fend off the child’s wizardry.

“Please. I need your help.” The child said, its telepathic tone was earnest, efficient in its demands for help yet completely vulnerable.

Piklesme lowered his talon to the cold earth, scraping the dirt with his powerful claw. The child was smart not to speak and give away their position. The dragon’s heart was old, and hardened, his leniency was trivial. Yet something about the child’s plea resonated deep inside him, to the very core of his being.

“I am Piklesme,” the dragon said. The dragon’s words burnt his tongue, as they were the first he had ever spoken.

The child giggled.

“I will call you Pickles,” the child’s voice announced in Piklesme’s mind. “I am Willow,” the child introduced herself. Piklesme marveled at the conversation. The dragon had heard tales of telepathic powers but never thought he’d bear witness much less engage in such communication.

Piklesme’s shoulders relaxed. The child was magical. A witch indeed.

“Did you steal my vision? I’d like it back, please” Piklesme said, choking on the flames that bit at his tongue.

Fuzzy images of shapes appeared in the corner of Piklesme’s eyes, followed by the blurry green-ness outline of the forest trees. Slow and steady, Piklesme breathed, intoxicated by the spellbound relief of the return of his sight. The dragon blinked several times, to acclimate to his surroundings. The child had not moved, she stood the same distance as before, however, her small mouth was upturned on the corner.

Piklesme nodded his snout at the little witch, a gesture of gratitude. He dare not speak again for his tongue still wore the rawness of the blister.

“I need your help,” Willow repeated, this time out loud. “I need to go home.”

Piklesme inhaled his breath, how the child could speak so clearly in just a few moments was disbelieving. She seemed a few inches taller, too, if that was possible.

“Will you help me?” Willow asked.

Piklesme hesitated, unsure how to answer.

“Oh. Your tongue is burnt. I can fix that,” Willow said, putting her tiny hands on the flanking sides of her temples. She whispered a few words as her eyes locked on the old dragon. Piklesme could not hear well enough to understand what she said. A spell, perhaps, to protect his tongue.

Willow giggled again. “Now, you can speak without self-harm.”

Piklesme groaned. The dragon worried about the spells the little witch cast. Other dragons would be able to smell them and would come to investigate. It was only a matter of time before they would no longer be alone.

“How can I help you get home?” Piklesme asked, pleased that the child’s spell worked as his tongue was not engulfed with flame.

Willow looked up to the sky. She lifted her small arm, pointing at a blinking star in the distance.

“That’s where I need to go,” she said.

Piklesme’s eyes followed the trail of the witch’s little finger. Way up high, above the clouds, near the moon, the star shimmered in the sky. The dragon sighed and shook his head.

“Even if my wings took flight, that’s out of my reach. Is there a spell on my wings, too?”

Willow frowned. “Sorry. I didn’t want you to leave me.” The little witch blinked her eyes and nodded her head twice. “It’s undone,” she said.

Piklesme’s heart thumped in his torso as the dragon flapped his wings. The spell uncast, now he was free to fly when and where he wanted. Of course, if he decided to flee, the witch could prevent it. What she couldn’t control were the other dragons. Each time the little witch used her magic it emitted an odd smell. A fruity fragrance, like apples. And dragons loved apples. Piklesme knew the others would come, to investigate just as he had. Then there would be nothing that he could do to save her. He could try to leave, abandon her as he found her, alone in the woods.

But the child was so sincere in her plight. Her small brown eyes watched him, so trusting and sure. Piklesme noticed that the child appeared a bit taller than she had just a few moments ago. What kind of magic is this? He thought.

He knew that he must do whatever he had to do, to get her home safe. Before the others discovered her. Which could happen at any moment.

“How did you get here?” Piklesme asked.

Willow shook her head. “I was with Ma-Ma. She was training me in… the powers,” Willow said carefully. “We were working on travel spells,” she conceded.

“It worked,” Piklesme said. “Does your kind start training so young? It seems unwise,” the old dragon stated arrogantly.

Willow tilted her head to the side. “I was full-grown when I left home. Somehow in the journey I transformed into a child. When I got here, I mean.”

Piklesme could not believe her words, but as she spoke she gained an inch in height.

“The way I figure I landed just in time. If I’d kept going, I think I would have gone so far back I wouldn’t exist,” Willow said, her forehead knitted.

“How did you manage to stop when you did?” Piklesme asked.

Willow smiled, displaying two new front teeth. “It was you. I’m sure of it. You looked into the light of the falling star as I was flying by. That altered my course and I landed here. Much younger than when I started, though.” She blinked several times at the realization.

“I’m not sure why that made a difference. But it did,” Willow said. “Thank you.”

It was difficult for Piklesme to doubt the little witch’s story. She seemed to grow before the old dragon’s eyes. Her demeanor was calm for such a small frame. And her mind seemed to maintain its maturity. She was keen in her awareness and knew exactly what had happened even if she couldn’t understand why it had happened.

“Don’t use any more magic. The other dragons can smell it,” Piklesme warned.

Willow’s mouth opened slightly as though she hadn’t considered that possibility. She looked around the forest and up to the night sky, checking to see if any dragons were approaching.

“We have some time. Not much. But some. What do we need to do?” Piklesme asked.

Willow nodded, relieved that Piklesme shared the warning about the other dragons.

“Maybe if I try the spell again, it’ll transport me home,” Willow pondered. “We need some fern leaf and a mermaid’s purse,” she added as she looked at Piklesme.

The dragon kneeled and turned his front talon backward to use as a perch. “I know just where we need to go. Get on,” Piklesme said.

Willow walked with ease towards the dragon and held onto the dragon’s scales as she climbed onto its back.

Piklesme felt the child get situated before he began to flap his wings. With a slight push of his back feet, the little witch was airborne, riding the beast as though she was a natural.

The pair drifted over the forest, low in the sky as Piklesme’s eyes searched the ground for the growing fern leaf plant. Willow squealed with delight as the wind lifted her hair. She gripped the scales on the dragon’s back hard.

“I won’t let you fall, little witch,” Piklesme said as the dragon dipped even lower on the horizon. The child giggled. She was enjoying the ride.

“Over there,” Willow said as Piklesme saw a huge spray of fern growing wild in the forest. The plant was tall enough that Piklesme did not have to land. Willow grabbed a handful and held it tight.

“Now let’s get the mermaid’s purse,” Willow said. Piklesme acknowledged her request and banked left, towards the ocean.

“Your world is beautiful!” Willow exclaimed as the dragon and the girl glided over the forest. The snow-capped mountains in the distance were beautiful. The old dragon had taken so much beauty for granted.

“That’s my home,” Piklesme said, looking towards the mountains. “For what time I have left,” the old dragon admitted. Willow was silent as they flew, faster and faster. Piklesme was eager to get the last ingredient and try the spell. The dragon hoped the little witch’s plan would work.

A cliff appeared as they cleared the edge of the forest. The ocean was below, and the white sandy beach twinkled in the moonlight. Piklesme heard Willow gasp.

“It’s even prettier here,” Willow said.

The old dragon snorted as he landed on the beach. Willow jumped off the dragon’s back. She ran towards the waves, singing a song in her own tongue.

“Come back here. We have work to do!” Piklesme reprimanded the girl. She had grown even more in the few minutes of the dragon’s flight.

Willow splashed around in the ocean, her plight forgotten for just a moment, acting like the child she transformed into with her Ma-Ma’s spell.

Piklesme felt so free as he watched her play in the waves. He wished that she could stay with him. She could be his whelp, his ward to safeguard. But he knew that she could not stay. She must return to her lands among the stars.

“It’s so gritty! What’s this called?” Willow asked, squishing her toes in the beachy mush.

“It’s sand,” Piklesme said. “You need to find the mermaid’s purse. And quick.”

Willow frowned but nodded. She closed her eyes as she lifted her arms straight out in front of her. She started to mumble, her voice was low, but Piklesme knew she was casting a spell.

“I told you not to use magic!” Piklesme snarled. The old dragon felt a chill run up his spine. The other dragons were coming. He could feel the pounding of their wings in the air. And it was a lot of them.

Willow kept her eyes closed, whispering the magic words for the ocean to deliver the last item needed for her spell.

She opened her eyes as she bent over to retrieve the mermaid’s purse from the waiting sea.

“Got one,” she said, holding it up by the tassel on its end.

Piklesme looked up the beach. Far away, his old dragon eyes could make out a shape in the moonlight. A flight of dragons. Headed directly towards them.

“Hurry!” Piklesme urged. Willow saw the shadow on the horizon. She ran towards Piklesme.

She unfolded the mermaid’s purse and placed the fern leaves inside, her small hands shaking at the task. Once the mermaid’s purse was stuffed, Willow bent to draw a large circle in the sand. She tossed the purse in the center of the circle.

“Now what?” Piklesme asked.

Willow watched the flight of dragons, they were flying fast, low to the ground as they approached. Her breathing was labored.

“We need to set it on fire,” Willow said, squinting her eyes, about to cast a spell.

“Stop. Stand back. I’ll do it,” Piklesme said.

“Will they harm you?” Willow asked. “For helping me?” The child was no more. Willow was now fully grown.

Piklesme arched his back, summoning the firedrake. “I’m just an old dragon. It won’t matter if they do,” Piklesme said.

Willow started to chant as Piklesme breathed fire onto the mermaid’s purse. First, there was only a spark, then the purse burst into flames. As a smoke cloud enveloped the beach, Willow stepped inside the circle.

“Thank you, Pickles,” Willow said. She closed her eyes, her two hands steepled together in front of her.

“Youth return. Take me home,” the witch said, over and over.

Piklesme watched in awe as Willow became translucent, part of the fire’s flame. A blinding burst of light shot to the sky and just like that, he knew she was home.

The fire on the beach was quenched with the witch’s absence. The mermaid’s purse was no more. A funnel of smoke was all that was left.

The flight of dragons landed on the beach beside Piklesme.

“Just a young dragon making havoc,” one of them said. “Did you eat some apples?” asked another. “You better get home,” another dragon advised as the herd of the dragons flew away, continuing on their prowl.

Piklesme felt different. As he looked at his wings, he noticed his wingspan was much shorter. His eyesight was sharp. He could hear the waves crashing on the shore. His head felt light, as though he was a young dragon once more. And then he knew. The little witch had cast a spell on him. She had said ‘youth return.’

And that’s how Piklesme the old dragon began his next thousand years. A gift from a little witch he found in the woods. He helped get her home. And she gave him more years to live.

And with that, with all infinity, Pickles hoped that he would meet Willow again.