Dragons Cry

[05.13.00] » by Marlone

Futch looked down with tears in his eyes at the only reminder he had left of Black. It was a single tooth. He closed his hand around it, and closed his eyes tightly. No! It shouldn't have ended this way!

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A young boy with dark brown hair laughs happily as he plays with a young dragon. The dragon has black scales, dark as midnight. That was how it got it's name, Black. A fair distance away a young couple watches.

"Futch loves his dragon," the woman smiles.

"I'd say they love each other," replies the man, "It is a rare bond those two have."

The woman nods in agreement.

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Tears poured down his cheeks like rain. No one else could understand. None of them. They stills had their dragons. Their friends. Companions.

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The boy, a few years older, stands before Dragon Knight Joshua. He is very nervous. Just a step behind him is Black, larger but still very young. Black nudges Futch forward gently.

Dumbly, he listens as Joshua speaks to his parents. He has great promise... The strongest bond in decades...

Then, faintly, the voices of the dragons come, discussing Black. It then was Futch's turn to support Black.

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Futch stood on the top of a cliff, right on the edge. He looked down to the valley floor so far below. The was the same height Black often flew.

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Their first flight. Futch holds on for dear life at first, but several minutes pass. Black has not let him fall. He gains confidence and loosens his grip. With a loud cheer, he lets go and spreads his arms as if flying as well. The wind races through his hair. Black does not let him fall.

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Futch teetered on the edge of the cliff. Black wasn't there to stop his fall this time. How long would he fall? A long time, he guessed. It wasn't right that a Dragon Knight outlive his dragon.

The wail of a mourning dragon reached his ears.

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Futch sits curled up in his mother's lap. The strange sounds that had woken him continue. "Make it stop, mommy, make it stop."

"The dragons are crying," she says, rocking back and forth in her chair. "A dragon has fallen. They mourn for their loss."

Futch looks up with surprise. "Dragons cry?"

She nods, a sad smile crosses her lips. "You didn't think they were simply beasts, did you?"

Futch looks over to Black, who sleeps restlessly by the fire, a small whimper escaping his throat each time the sound comes. Futch shakes his head. "They're like us," he says quietly, "But shaped different."

His mother hugs him. "You are wise beyond your years. It takes some all their lives to realize that."

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Futch cried out as the dragons did. The sound was echoed by the dragons, welcoming another into their midst as they bid farewell to another. Far into the night, Futch mourned with the dragons.

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Milia left without a word. She had been worried about the young ex-apprentice. But he had found another outlet for his grief. She sensed Thrash's agreement on the matter as he silently glided back to the fortress.