The Last of the Dragons
by Emma Bridgwater

Screams filled the air. It was as if the entire Earth was being torn to pieces. From atop the mountain a thick rush of bog, water, and grasses rolled. Anything in its path was swept away or drowned. The small village at the base of the mountain was in danger. The houses on the outskirts had already been swept away, torn from the earth like toothpicks.
Cries echoed throughout the valley, and time seemed to slow. Then a shout rang out, clear as a bell, and broke the spell.
"FLY!"
As if the inhabitants of the village had reached an unspoken agreement, fifty or more creatures took to the air. Their slanted eyes wide in bewilderment, as their entire life was swept away in a matter of seconds. Some did not make it out and were swept away.
After the landslide passed, the fairies (for that was what those small creatures were) awaited the call to land and search for any traces of their lives. One old fairy, Klutch was his name, began to sway as he spoke:

"Under hill and under mountain
The golden Wyrm lies fasting.
He alone shall set us free.
He shall end our misery.
So travel forth,
one brave soul.
And wake the Wyrm of old.
End our plight, and end our sorrow
'for the blackness binds us.
Follow the greenway
my young wanderer.
Stray naught from the path,
lest ye forget
the ancient task."

It was an ancient fairy prophecy. Most dismissed it as the ramblings of deluded fairies, for everyone knew the last of the dragons had been killed ages ago. But some say that not believing was what brought their downfall and misery. Now, with their lives swept away, more turned to the prophecy as their last hope.
"We must send one of our number to waken the Wyrm," someone said.
"Then we send them to their doom," another called.
Most were undecided, and looked at each other, the picture of hopelessness.
Then, a quiet voice said, "I shall go."
The effect was immediate. A hush fell over the clearing, as everyone turned to find the speaker. The owner of the voice rose above the knot of fairies. She had sharp features that reminded one of a hawk. Her eyes were like twin pools of ocean water. Long black hair hung around her fair face. Unlike most of the fairies gathered, she did not sport translucent gossamer wings. Hers were those of a monarch butterfly.
"Who's that?" The question spread like wildfire through the crowd.
"I am Sheena," she answered.
Finally, after a long pause, Klutch spoke in a weary and defeated tone. "Let the girl go."
The valley erupted in cheers. Finally, a soul brave enough to find the Golden Wyrm.
As Sheena prepared to leave, with nothing but what she wore, and a charm for good luck, she heard whispers among the other fairies.
"How old is she?"
"Where is the child's mother?"
"I have no mother," Sheena said bitterly, her eyes as cold as stone.
She turned to leave but Klutch grabbed her arm. "Remember these three things, young Sheena. The first two will help you in your quest, for that is where He lies: Under hill and under mountain. And remember, always follow the greenway. And the last thing: When you awaken the Golden Wyrm, it is his duty to grant you one boon."
Sheena's heart fluttered. She could ask for her mother back!
Klutch shook her, for he was not done. "There will be dangers. The unseen Enemy will rise against you."
These words sliced through her fantasy, chilling her to the bone. Visible enemies were fine, but one who was not; one who had no definite shape or form, and dealt within the shadows was far more dangerous.
Numbly, she nodded, rose in the air, and without a backwards glance left.

Sheena was soon far from her home. The weather kept changing, as it was bound to do in Ireland. But she was diligent, and remembered that if she should succeed, she would see her mother once more. Gusts of wind battered her from the side but Sheena gritted her teeth, and pressed on. Soon rain came down as well. It turned into hard sheets that soaked her to the bone. The wind was her enemy, sharpening its sword for attack, as each gust grew stronger.
"The unseen Enemy works best in darkness," Sheena growled.
Then, as if the act of being named summoned it forth, a shape emerged from the greyness of the storm. It was a gaunt man, wearing a billowing black trench coat, and a broad brimmed black hat. In his hand he clutched a sword made of wind.
"I see you know me," he boomed, voice like thunder.
Sheena gave a start. She did know who-or what he was. "Cursed Fear Liath," she spat.
The Grey Man gave her a wicked grin. "Now Missy, ye be very good at accusin' a man 'fer no good reason, eh?" As he spoke, he advanced, raising his Fulchon.
Sheena hesitated then spoke. "Sethe itach anigle chasse."
The Man faltered, then let out a horrid screech and began to unravel. He gave Sheena one last smack in the face with his Fulchon before vanishing. Sheena collapsed onto the muddy earth, panting.
When she woke, the sky was deep blue, with wispy clouds scuttling across it. She put a hand to her head, groaning and as she stood, a cry escaped her lips. The landscape was unfamiliar, yet it felt as if she had been here before. The fields were lush and green, with rolling hills. Yet the trees…they bothered her.
Not a leaf could be seen anywhere, for the branches were twisted and black. To add to their foreboding, red-eyed crows perched. They were Watchers, eyes of the Enemy. Sheena blinked, and the crows were gone, replaced by ravens. She sent them scathing looks before continuing.
"Dragon country alright," she mumbled quietly.
The ravens simply stared at her. The land was a sleeping monster, ready to rise up and swallow her at any time. Sheena swore angrily in Irish, cursing her luck to have been blown here.
"I'm close, so very close," she muttered to the nearest tree.
"Indeed you are, lassie."
Sheena jumped, stifling a yelp of shock.
"Your kind never looks anymore, do they?" The voice was old, and filled with regret.
Sheena looked about her, and then it hit her. "You don't happen to be...?" she let the question hang in the air.
The blackened tree beside her, chuckled. "Yes, I am a Faoilin."
Sheena bowed her head in respect. The harder she stared, the more the tree looked like a short old man.
The tree laughed. "You may call me Alf, dear Sheena."
The fairy opened her mouth to ask how he knew her name, but thought better of it. Magic was at work here.
"One thing before I go," Alf said.
"What? You're leaving?" Sheena asked in disbelief. "So soon?"
"We will meet again someday," Alf assured her. "Follow the greenway, dear child, follow the greenway," Alf whispered and began to turn back into a tree.
"The greenway." Sheena nodded, remembering what Klutch had told her at the start of her mission.
She rose into the air and finally understood. The land was spread out like a light green carpet, and there, running through it, was a dark green strip. She was nearly at the end. Follow the greenway. There! Just at the end of the green band was a small mountain. Under hill and under mountain. It was all coming together. There was the greenway to follow and the Wyrm's mountain. Sheena sped toward the mountain, keeping a watchful eye on all below.
Sheena landed near a deep hole in the mountain and shuddered. It seemed that the hole was a mouth just waiting to swallow her. Her courage nearly deserted her then and there, but she focused on the image of her torn and broken homeland. It gave her the strength she needed to enter the cave.
Darkness engulfed her but, with a whispered Irish spell, a globe of light came from her hand, and floated above to show her the way. A short way in, the tunnel forked to the left and right. Sheena paused, remembering an old fairy fable, which had the line in it: 'Left it the fairy way'. With a grimace she trudged off down the left side of the tunnel. It grew darker, until her light made only a small circle around her. As she went deeper, her light was smothered. Sheena gritted her teeth, and summoned as much magic as she dared. Her darkened sphere exploded with light, bathing the tunnel in a warm yellow glow.
"Much better," Sheena murmured.
"Better…better…ter…ter…," her echo bounced back at her.
Sheena soon grew confused, and, but for her light, she might have been entirely lost. A sharp crack sounded, as a stalactite fell behind her. With a yelp, she shot on, heedless of where she was going. Left - left, stay on the left. Hurriedly, she tucked her wings in as more rock crumbled off the roof.
Suddenly, a glimmer of light appeared. She pin-pointed the location, and padded toward it. At the entrance to the next left tunnel it grew brighter, and there He was, asleep in the center of the cavern. The light came from his fire, for whenever he breathed out, fire would ricochet off the walls, glittering golden light.
The Golden Wyrm was far greater than anything she had imagined. His scales shone, giving him a golden aura. With cautious steps, Sheena approached him. The golden flank heaved with each breath, and the tip of the tail twitched every now and then. His teeth were long and white, and dripped a venomous green at each sharp point, making his bite poisonous.
Gingerly, Sheena ran her hand along the warm body. With a whispered command, a noise like a gong resounded, echoing through the whole cavern, and making her teeth shake. Yet the Wyrm remained asleep.
After a few more unsuccessful tries with various noises, Sheena began to swear angrily. Of course it wouldn't be that simple, she screamed in her head.
Then an idea hit her. The Wyrm's mind. She put her hands on his head, standing beside a great closed eye. Sheena reached out into the very mind of the Golden Wyrm himself.
"Fear. T'was all I felt as I fled from them, the Hunters".
Sheena withdrew from the alien mind with a whimper. Then, with a determined look, she once again immersed herself in the thoughts, which were not her own.
"I must go and hide myself you say?"
"Yes Golden One. The Hunters come...I feel it"
The Wyrm gave a sharp laugh. "And why, Alf Woodbough, do you want me to do this? It would only make me weaker to sleep."
"But no one could find you, Majesty," Alf replied.
"Ah Alf, my old friend, you and I have suffered the over the millennia, have we not?"
Sheena was dragged from the thoughts with force, for both the Wyrm and the tree known as Alf had felt her poking into distant memories. It did the trick though.
A great red eye opened, searching for the intruder. Sheena fell back with a gasp as a voice boomed.
"Why do you wake me?" the Wyrm asked.
Sheena found her tongue. "While you lay in slumber your land, and the land of my people, is being destroyed. I have come to wake you, so you could restore our lands."
The Wyrm gazed at her for a long while. Then, raising his head off his clawed feet, he spoke. "Do you truly love your people and lands enough for me to restore them?"
"I do," she replied.
"Then wish me to restore them!"
Those words hit Sheena like a fist, as she realised that this was the only boon to be granted and that she would have to choose between her love of her people, and her wish to see her mother again.
"I…I wish you to restore the land, and my people." She turned from the Wyrm, hiding her tears.
After a time (she could never say how long she stood there, crying) the Wyrm spoke. "You are not happy."
It was a statement, but Sheena chose to answer anyway. Whirling around, she screamed, "You took everything from me. EVERYTHING! I will never see my mother again! EVER!"
"Dear child, when one door closes another opens. There is hope yet."
Sheena gazed at him. "Can we look for her?" she asked quietly.
"Not today my brave-heart. Today is cause for celebration. You will ride a Wyrm, and nothing is quite like that."
Sheena nodded, smiling slightly. Tomorrow was another day. Tomorrow, she would once again search for her. But for now she could rejoice in saving her people.

The Beginning