All tagged Red's First Days
He crooks his head. “Amahle, which of the villains could possibly convince you that Joy is an honorary Zulu when you were very clear on the point that she wasn’t?”
“It was–” Amahle begins, when Joy cuts her off.
“No, Amahle!”
“He is your father, Joy. We do not keep secrets from him and there is no reason this should be a secret. It was the Guardian Spirit in your prison.”
“I have a Guardian Spirit in prison?”
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I listened to his voice as he wailed back.
It was wordless. It was an animalistic wail, except that it was not made by an animal. It was not a human cry, for he was not human, either. It was not a dragon cry, for he was not a dragon.
It was the cry of my friend.
I have not seen him in three and a half years.
I wailed back, a dragon’s wail. My wail told him how I missed his voice, his eyes, his love… our talks.
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My name is not The Red Dragon. I have never met my parents and they never named me. They had never spoken my name to me.
I had been born into slavery and only my slavers gave me a name. That name will not be repeated by me for as long as I live.
I have been named The Red Dragon by the 2-year-old Joy Shelley when I met her and when she and her father rescued me from my enslavers. Now she calls me ‘Red’ and I call her ‘Dragon Little’.
The Red Dragon is the name I love. It is the name I use. But it is not my real name.
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Dragon Little, my Dragon Little, was all alone on her third birthday.
Dragon Father did not appear as usual. He was gone. He must have stayed up the entire night in his waking world and from the time he disappeared in the middle of an adventure to the time he reappeared on Bonny’s Revenge, almost two days have passed.
In the year I have been in his dream, in the year since he and Dragon Little rescued me from slavery, he had never mentioned her birthday. Nor did he mention it in the next year.
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I was in flight. I had been called by Dragon Father, but I had not come because he called.
I have told you of the world of slaves he had created in order to rescue it and of the unspeakable memories it had brought back to me.
I was furious at him, furious at this dream of slavery.
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When Dragon Little was only four and a half years old, their adventure brought on for me one of the worst day I have had in Dragon Father’s dreams.
Dragon Father and Dragon Little came upon a mining planet in which the entire population of dwarves was enslaved by the Elf Overlord and his minions.
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“All right, little one. I will tell you a real story. It ist a story that happened to me once. Do you remember that I had captors? Captors who told me what to do and who beat me when I refused?”
Dragon Little nodded. She and her father freed me from them, after all, less than a year earlier. That ist how we had met.
“Well… There was a time when I had met a friend. Not a dragon friend, like me. And not a human friend, like you. But a friend. And I liked him very much. He promised he would rescue me. But of course that would be a very hard task.
“Then, one day, my captors found out about him. They caught him. And they ordered me - me! - to kill him with my fire.”
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I swooped up. “Whoa!” Dragon Little said, held tighter, and laughed.
I swooped down. “Yeee hawww!” Dragon Father shouted.
I spun and whirled and they laughed and laughed.
It was a magical feeling to fly free, to have anyone ride me of my own free will. It was sheer joy. And, perhaps, I forgot my own troubles a bit, too. I forgot to be worried that those I was running away from might one day find Dragon Father’s dream.
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The first few days after I had met Dragon Little and Dragon Father, after they had rescued me from my enslavers and gave me my freedom, these first few days were hard for me.
It was hard for me to get used to freedom. It was hard for me to close my eyes without imagining my enslavers hitting me with their painful prods or whipping me with electric whips.
During those days I hid behind one of the planets, where I thought I could escape. It was hard to sleep. It was hard to stay awake, for I was always afraid that the evil ones will return, searching for me.
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