Another Life?

I don't remember dying. It was vague; my life, like a fleeting memory of who I once was. The unremarkable human being who spent his last few years away gaming, hoping to be something greater. Once I died, it was like I was sinking down into the deep blue ocean, the tears of my parents flowing away as distant echoes.

I accepted my faith, content with floating down into this deep depth. It was then that I noticed something moving in the shadows. Something massive. A massive eye glared at me suddenly. The yellow iris was indescribably beautiful. It looked as if a whole star scape lay within the darkness of the pupil, a numerous canvas of stars. It took me quite a long time to notice the larger body the eye belonged to. It was a dragon. A gigantic, silver scaled dragon. It exhaled, and for some reason, I got the sense that each of those breaths was ancient, like it was first inhaled long before the stars were forged. The dragon saw me. Yet, I wasn’t scared. After all, I was already dead, what more could this monster do to me? Maybe torture my immortal soul, but i didn’t consider it at the time.

“I see you. From beyond. I call you.” A voice said. A deep, powerful voice. “I charge thee.” It continued. “Care for my children. Love them. Discipline them, if necessary. Kill them, if you must. But please.” The dragon beckoned. “Save my children.”

The world was bright again as I was born. A mere baby, I cried without thinking. I cried while remembering not my past life, but the charge I was given by that dragon. And I longed to meet him once again.

I did not know my new parents very long. They had been some sort of merchants. I was born in the back of a covered wagon. I don’t remember the name they gave me, but I did remember not liking it. It was only a few days on the road, a few lullabies from my mother that the dragons attacked. They destroyed everything, killing nearly everyone. I would’ve been one of the victims too, if my mother hadn’t hidden me in a crate under the wagon. I cried and cried for quite a long time, not worrying that it would draw the dragons back.

This was the second time I accepted death, now a starving infant, not able to hold my own head up. And yet, something compelled me. Not necessarily a strong will to live, but a desire; a hope to meet that dragon again, and ask him who he was, and what he meant when he told me to save them.

“Ah. I was too late.” A voice from outside my crate said. “Vulture Dragons. Picked the whole caravan clean.”

I screamed my lungs out, trying to get this attention. I felt my little crate sliding out from under the wagon. The sunlight blinded me a bit as the top was opened. This is how I met Gramps. That old face looked to be over two hundred, but his eyes still carried the fire of a teenager. He grinned through his thick beard as he saw me.

“Well, would you look at that.” He chuckled. “What’s a little runt like you doing under there?”

Gramps was a Dragon Slayer. He told me that when I was about seven years ago.

“A Dragon Slayer?” I asked, noting the little Soot Dragon sitting on my lap like a cat. “You kill dragons like Asha here?” I petted Asha’s head.

“Well, obviously not.” The old man snorted, taking a sip of tea. “I kill the bad dragons that don’t keep to themselves. Those that kill people. But mostly, I live alone. No point in killing them unnecessarily.”

Asha stretched her little black body, turning over in my lap before going back to sleep again.

“Dragons are a part of this world. A fundamental part. They’re not just animals. They’re moving forces, who’s very souls define creation.” Gramps said, whirling his finger. “Killing them unnecessarily is like chopping down an old grown forest. Helps people for a time, but in the long turn you start missing those trees. You start thinking it’s a damn shame we chopped them all down.”

“I had a dream about a dragon once.” I admitted.

“Oh?” Gramps raised a bushy brow.

“A big dragon. Bigger than any i’ve ever seen. With eyes like a universe was inside both of them.” I told him.

“The World Dragon.” Gramps huffed.

“The World Dragon?” I asked, leaning forward, disturbing Asha and jolting her awake.

“Mhm.” He stroked his long beard. “Some people dream about that dragon. It’s an old myth, from the very ancient days. The father of dragons. Supposedly all dragons hear his voice when they dream.”

“I’m not a dragon though.” I sighed.

“No.” Gramps shook his head. “You’re a weird kid though. Know too much for your age. You learned to talk before you were one. Made me think I was finally going senile.”

“Hey Gramps.” I asked.

“Hm?” He looked towards me.

“Can you teach me how to be a Dragon Slayer?”

“No.” He said.

“Oh.” I let out, disappointed.

“I don’t have the resources to make you a proper Dragon Slayer.” He said. “You need to go to a Chapter. They’ll be able to make you into one.”

“A Chapter?” I asked.

“The Dragon Slayer Guild consists of multiple Chapters, designed to produce Dragon Slayers who safe guard an area.” He waved a finger. “However, I must warn you. Each Chapter has a varying degree of beliefs on how exactly to slay dragons. I disagree with the Chapter of this area heavily. They go into overkill, destroying baby dragons of harmless species.”

“Like Soot Dragons.” I looked down at Asha.

She was annoyed I was moving so much, so she leapt off me, settling down on a nearby pillow.

“I don’t want you joining up with them.” Gramps eased himself to his feet. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?” I asked, following after him. My short legs annoyed me, making it hard to even keep up with this old man.

“I can’t make you a Dragon Slayer. But i can teach you everything I know. When you’re old enough, I want you to make your way to a better Chapter. One that’s kinder to dragons.”

“So, where are we going?” I asked.

“Oh, we’ll start with a warm up. A nice and easy, twenty mile run.”

“Huh?”

I have never in my life seen an old man run that quickly. He left me in dust long before I reached a mile, my short legs bothering me the whole time.