I have never known Dragon Little (the name I give the wonderful Joy Shelley) when she was a baby, for Dragon Father (Justin Shelley) and she rescued me when she was two years old. I did not see her grow up.

More than that, I had only met Mary, Dragon Little’s nanny, a short while before she died.

Mary was shorter than Dragon Father, a bit chubby, a black/brown skin like many of the other humans I had known. She was happy most of the time. And she was entirely intent on helping Dragon Little grow.

During adventures, she always stayed back.

From the way she died, a few months after the events I will talk about here, I know that she was a creation of Dragon Father’s dream. For my former masters have taught me to spot dreams that die. But that ist a discussion for another day. Perhaps for never.

Unlike most of Dragon Father’s dreams, Mary stayed behind when he disappeared. Most of his dreams disappear, but some remain: Bonny’s Revenge, the ocean, the moon, the villain leaders, some weapons… and Mary.

This day Dragon Little had a hard time falling asleep. Mary lay down with her on the cot and put Dragon Little on her chest and caressed her back.

Then Mary started singing to her: “Rock-a-bye baby, on the tree top…”

That voice shocked me to my core with its beauty. It brought back a longing for a mother and father that I have never seen, never met. It brought back my longing for the touch of my mother. For her soft touch, if it were soft, and for her love.

I missed my parents. I needed my parents. I needed their love. But they are dead now, and my enslavers were the ones who raised me. Without song. Without love. With only cruelty.

I wept in my hiding place, far away, my sharp ears hearing every note. And Dragon Little fell asleep on Mary who kept on singing.

—Told by The Red Dragon

Watch how I came up with the idea for this post: