The Dragonmage, the young men and women chosen of dragon-kind. Formerly the unwanted, the undesirable, the abused, the mistreated. Incorruptible due to their bond with their dragons, they feared almost nothing save for the idea that their desire to save innocent lives would fail. The greedy, the grasping, the cruel, they sought out children who might have eggs now. Attempts to corrupt, attempts to control their own dragonmages. But the dragons were sent to taught this world a lesson, painfully if need be.
Linkie: @internutter/challenge-02805-g248-a-need-of-dragons -- Anon Guest
[AN: Thank you, Nonny, for remembering the link. Even in the follow-up, it's better late than never]
Where magic fails, science rises. Where science falters, magic takes its place. This is true even beyond the philosophy of human minds. Welcome to Pickvale, here there be dragons. Most of them cavort in the fields surrounding what was once meant to be a comprehensive school, playing with those who came for a place of sanctuary from the terrible lives they once had. The town was originally ageing out of existence, but the influx of new folks was welcome. No matter if they had dragons with them or not.
Ever since Persi, the older citizens of Pickvale were far more amenable to being pseudo-parents. They were rightfully convinced that these kids needed looking after, and they were careful at it. The older Pickvaleans were decent folk and their gentle kindness showed the growing Dragonmages what good people looked like.
Now... some of them were re-entering the world. Either walking with their dragons by their sides, or flying to their destinations on dragonback. They went to right invisible wrongs, while being the most visible people in the world. It didn't take long for authorities to notice something was up.
Officer Ned Barclay had "accident prone" kids and a wife to match. He bought them lots of things, but never had much in the way of time for them. When he spoke of them, it was inevitably complaints. He was never proud. He was never happy. Then the dragon kid turned up.
They said they were twenty, but either they were lying or they had a baby face. The rental agency seemed to buy it and the dragon amazingly didn't turn any hairs. There were, after all, no laws against dragons and the creature could curl up into the same space as the average SUV.
Since the kids were fascinated by the dragon, Ned outlawed them even looking at it. Hard to do when they lived across the street and a dragon is anything but invisible. Naturally something went wrong.
The doorbell interrupting progression of circumstances, however, was not the natural way of things.
Ned slammed his chair down and hissed, "Don't any of you dare move a muscle 'till I get back! Not one twitch. Don't breathe, don't even blink. I will know."
He opened the door with the death glare that could drive away even the most determined witness from the most vigorous church, and found none other than the dragon kid on the other side. "What do you want?" he spat.
The kid was completely unfazed, as if they had faced bigger and meaner monsters than him and was now immune to their effects. "I know what you're doing and it's going to stop. Today."
He made one mistake. He asked a question. "And how do you plan on stopping me?"
The kid held up a hand as if in benediction. "They are rubber, you are glue. It bounces off them and sticks to you." The fingers moves, and just for an instant, a sigil glittered in the air.
"Get lost or I shoot your head off."
"Have a nice life," singsonged the kid, and made their way off of his property. Skipping.
"Go back to Portland and dance with the queers ya f--" he almost swore in front of the children. He had standards after all. "Fudgepacker." Ned picked a kid he knew had moved. "I said not a muscle."
His fist flew. What happened next should not have happened.
Ned's hand stopped as if he'd punched a block of concrete. Some invisible force came down on him from above like the wrath of God, at exactly the angle he should have hit Little Pam.
The kids screamed and he hit the floor. Ned could taste blood in his mouth and his punching hand felt like it had been broken. He hadn't been hit like that since he'd been able to beat down his old man.
So he did what he always did. He got up and made to hit the nearest person as if it was their fault. He added, "Look what you made me do," because keeping them all in line was important. Keeping them from pulling any tricks was even more important. He remembered what he did to his old man. He was too young for it to happen to him.
Again, the same thing. Again, his hand stopped and felt like it was breaking. Again, the punch hit him instead. Again, it knocked him down.
This time, it knocked him out.
Belle came by with a casserole as the ambulance took Ned away, and had a talk with Little Pam about magic eggs that came out of nowhere and why it was a good idea to hold it close and think of her worries. About why she had hidden it and was scared to tell her father.
And most importantly, about the kindness of dragons. There was a little town in the middle of nowhere and Belle could help them pack up and move there. Ned would be in hospital for a long time. Longer if he tried to cause a ruckus. Though he would not be able to actually hurt any of them again, it was wise to make certain he couldn't try.
There was plenty of help in Pickvale for those making a new life for themselves.
Little Pam named her dragon Freedom.
[Image (c) Can Stock Photo / Krisdog]
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