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A piercing scream for help rousted me from sleep. I bolted upright, smacking my head on the low-hanging roof of my simple shelter. The sun filtered through the trees and early morning fog, signaling the arrival of a new day. My fire had burned itself out, a glowing pile of embers all that remained.
My eyes were sandbags, filled with tiny grains accumulated in slumber. I wiped the sleep from my eyes and tried to determine where the plea had originated.
“Help! Please, someone help me!”
Someone was definitely in trouble. I ran toward the screams. Branches slapped at my face as I sprinted through the forest. I dodged around the trees, weaving my way ever closer to whoever was screaming.
The cries continued and grew louder. Ignoring the burning in my legs, I ran faster. Finally, I crashed through the last line of trees and emerged into a clearing. Prior to my recent adventures, I would never have been able to imagine the sight that greeted me.
Across the clearing, bathed in the rays of the rising sun, a young girl ran in my direction. Dressed in a lovely emerald green gown that flowed out behind her, she was a picture from a fairy tale book. Her fiery red hair burned in the early morning light. She looked absolutely beautiful - beautiful and terrified.
I hurried from the cover of the woods, waving my arms in an attempt to get her attention.
“Help me!” she screamed again, failing to notice my presence.
“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”
My queries went unnoticed and unheard, drowned out by a deafening roar coming from the trees across the field. My damsel’s attention was focused squarely behind her. She ran forward blindly.
The trees on the other side of the clearing shook with an unseen force. Trunks snapped and shattered. A few trees flew through the air, uprooted and hurled skyward by some unidentified creature.
A stream of fire incinerated the patch of forest closest to the far side of the field. Through the flames, myth and legend stepped into reality. A better description might be that myth and legend rumbled into reality.
A dragon, covered in green scales stood at least 30 feet tall at the edge of the field. Twin spiral horns sat atop the beast’s head. Rows of sharp spikes ran down its back over the entire length of its body. A long, powerful tail ended in a spear-shaped point that swung back and forth in a rhythmic manner. Black fearsome claws pawed the earth, turning the ground up beneath the monster’s feet. Flexing its mighty wings, the imposing creature fixed its gaze upon its intended prey - my red-haired maiden.
Realizing the beast’s intentions, I turned to yell a warning to the girl just as she plowed into me, knocking both of us to the ground. We landed in a tangled heap, arms and legs entwined at awkward angles. My lungs were flattened like balloons, all air driven from them with the force of our impact.
“Art thou a fool? Move!” she bellowed.
The trembling earth beneath us left me no time to retort. When weighed against the possibility of being eaten by a gigantic dragon, getting an apology or firing off a few choice words suddenly didn’t seem quite so important.
We hurriedly untangled from one another and sprinted for the woods. The trees had slowed my progress before, I could only hope they worked as well at keeping our pursuer out. They did not.
“Follow me,” I cried, hoping my voice hadn’t sounded as high pitched as it surely had. I grabbed the girl’s hand and pulled her along with me.
We wove between the trees, one behind the other, running for our lives. Bushes and shrubs blurred out of focus. We raced across the forest floor, hoping to stay ahead of our pursuer. I expected to be eaten or roasted with every step I took. The sounds from the angry or hungry (or both, I couldn’t tell which) dragon chased us deeper and deeper into the woods. I knew with dreaded certainty that we couldn’t outrun the beast, but I hoped we might be able to outsmart it. Deciding to wing it, I formulated a desperate plan and committed us to it.
My makeshift camp came into view, looking exactly as I had left it. Embers from the fire still glowed in the rudimentary fire pit I had constructed. My simple quasi-hut lay just beyond. I ran directly to the fire pit and kicked dirt onto the embers, extinguishing any sign of their existence. Without slowing down, I changed directions and guided my companion toward my shelter. Pulling her down with me, we dove beneath the simple wood and leaf frame. I kicked the two front support braces out from under the roof and collapsed the entire structure on top of us.
“Be still and don’t make a sound.” I whispered.
“Who art thou?”
“Shut up!” I hissed.
“How dare thee speaketh to me in such a ...” An irate roar silenced my hiding partner’s words in her throat. She clamped one of her own hands over her mouth and squeezed her eyes tightly shut. Both of us held our breath as we waited to see if my ruse would work.
The ground vibrated as our pursuer came closer and closer. The beast searched for its vanished meal. Hot, rancid breath penetrated the shelter above us. And when I say rancid, I mean rancid. Let me put it this way, my eyes were shut and I was holding my breath and I could still smell the dragon’s halitosis. The breath offended to the point of making me almost vomit. One of the worst things I have ever smelled. And let me remind you that I recently suffered the effects of a Grokulan finger fart.
Despite the stench, my young companion and I held our collective breaths for what seemed like an eternity. The blood pounded in my brain, my nose itched and I was laying on a rock that poked relentlessly into my side. I fought the urge to shift into a less painful position.
My maiden looked equally uncomfortable. Her eyes (and they were the most stunning shade of green) were now open and wide with fear. They were pools of emerald water.
The dragon snuffled around my former campsite, no doubt drawn by the residual heat from my cooling fire. It pawed the ground around the fire pit as it searched for its intended victims.
Several long minutes passed. With an ear-shattering wail, we were flattened against the ground, pinned in our hiding place by the shelter above us. Limbs and branches mercilessly pressed into my back.
I immediately thought that the beast had stepped on us. However, after only a few seconds, the pressure released. I lay still, fearful that our hiding place had been discovered. Only silence followed.
We held our positions for several minutes more, unsure of what had happened. Risking a quick peek, I could see the dragon flying away, carried by enormous leathery wings. Large, powerful strokes carried the monster higher and higher into the sky, soon a green dot against a light blue background. I realized while watching the dragon flap its wings that the force from its take off must have been what momentarily pinned us beneath the shelter.
I kicked the shelter away and climbed free of the debris. My campsite was a battlefield. Deep claw marks cut across the area. Trees lay scattered like the forest’s broken bones.
I offered a hand to the girl who had lain in hiding beside me. She accepted it and with a little help, got shakily to her feet.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
She brushed dirt and leaves from her hair and dress.
“Now, thou shalt tell me who thou art.”
It wasn’t a question. I was more than a little irritated. I had just risked being eaten by a dragon to save this brat. I didn’t think it was asking too much for her to show a little appreciation and I told her so.
“Glad you’re okay.” I said with all the sincerity of a used car salesman. “I’m fine too. Thanks for asking. How about you lose the attitude and show a little appreciation? I’m Eli Arnold. Who the heck are you?”
Putting her hands on her hips, she narrowed her gaze and took a deep breath. Her face turned a deep shade of crimson, almost matching her fiery hair. She clenched and unclenched her fists and slowly let out the breath she had been holding.
“I beg thee forgive me. The dragon seems to have taken my manners with her. I am eternally grateful for thine intervention. I am Princess Pitter P
at. I owe thee my life,” she said with genuine sincerity and bowed her head.
I started to make a smart remark, but accepted her change in attitude and her thanks. She was really cute and I was still a little rattled by the whole dragon thing.
“It was nothing really. I heard you scream and came to see if I could help. All I did was help you hide. Did you say your name was Pitter Pat?”
“Princess Pitter Pat,” she replied. “My friends call me Pat. And thou art too modest.”
She looked me up and down, seeming to take actual notice of me for the first time.
“Thou art strangely dressed. From where dost thou hail?”
“A galaxy far, far away,” I replied with a laugh. “I was, uh, transported here by a, uh, wizard and, uh, am trying to find my brother and a way home.”
I figured if there were dragons, there were probably wizards in this time and place. Under the circumstances, being transported by wizards seemed a lot easier to explain to my new friend than time rifts and vortices. I swear I’m going to get a small chalkboard for my pack if I ever get the chance. It’s impossible to explain time travel without one.
“Then we shall consult with my father’s mage and offer thee our kingdom’s hospitality and assistance.”
She smiled and started walking. After a few steps, she stopped and said, “Art thou coming, Eli Arnold, Confuser of Dragons? We have a fair ways to travel to my father’s castle.”
“Yes, of course,” I replied, thinking how beautiful her smile was.
I grabbed my pack and fell into step beside Pat. We headed into the forest, arm in arm. As we walked, I kept an eye toward the sky. I hadn’t survived a curse of flesh eating scarabs only to be eaten by a dragon.
“Was that really a dragon chasing you?” I asked my new friend.
“Yes. That was Scar. She’s been attacking my father’s kingdom for many seasons. Dost thou not have dragons where thou comest from?”
“No. We have stories about them but they’re creatures of myth. I’ve never seen a live one until today. Why was Scar chasing you?”
Pat stopped and looked at me like I had lost my mind, her eyes hard.
“Scar is darkness. For many cycles, she has wreaked havoc across our lands. My father believes that she was sent by a rival kingdom to weaken and disrupt our way of life. I am not so sure.”
Pat relaxed a bit and, winking, said, “I suspect, however, that her motives today were much simpler. She was probably just hungry. Dragons love fresh princess for breakfast.”
We both laughed at her joke and continued our journey, talking and trading stories. We traveled many miles that day, getting to know each other, becoming friends. Shadows grew long across the ground. The sun set and night once again claimed the land. As a full moon rose, Pat and I left the forest and hurried down a muddy road toward the gates of a magnificent castle. We had almost reached our goal when a question popped into my head.
“Pat, what were you doing so far from your home today anyway?” I asked.
She stopped in the middle of the road, turning to face me. She took my hand in hers, sighed and looked me directly in the eye.
“I was trying to convince a great knight to slay Scar. He refused my request. That dragon has caused great damage to my father’s kingdom and its people, Eli.” She paused briefly. “I was looking for an answer to my father’s problems.” With another smile and a wink that made me weak in the knees, she said, “I think I may have found it.”