Kingdoms of Ohm: The Lonely Dragon #1 ✓

Beneath The Pine

What defines a friend, dear reader?

To most, friends are allies. A secret clan of fighters who forge their beliefs alongside your own. Warriors who risk their lives for your well being, and who bring joy and prosperity to the bluest of days.

But a friend stands for more than just a sacrificial supporter. To a dragon, a friend is someone you can trust by your wing. Someone honest and pure, worthy enough to defend, love, and care for. Someone you understand, enough to enjoy, enough to mend.

Enough to break even with one's most intimate secrets. And Luna served to be one of them.

The silver wolf would come when the moon was at its peak, bearing water, medicine, and food rations stolen from her pack. Whether it was a skinned deer, a plump rabbit, or a slimy fish, her actions were just enough to satisfy my stomach, and set a rumble brewing deep beneath my heart. And she'd always return more joyful than before, grinning from ear to ear once her eyes fell upon me. I couldn't tell if her excitement was a result of the time spent away from Lykaios's clutches or in longing to understand my species better. But I didn't dare question her interest -- I nurtured it, gathering in her embrace and fulfilling her wonders with what I knew.

She did the same for me.

I learned that Luna was one of four sisters, the eldest of her mother's clutch. Her father used to be alpha at the time -- Lykaios being his second fiddle -- guiding the pack in mass migrations across the land of Ohm. They corresponded with Cerrabethia: a nearby human kingdom not too distant from the valley in order to find new routes, foster stronger equipment, and bargain over regions of territory for hunting measures.

But, at some point, the pack split in two -- one half keeping on the other end of the mountains, and the other residing in Jorryn. She and her mother remained in the smaller pack, here, and after her passing Luna was reassigned as a sub-medic to the group. They were meant to migrate early this winter to Cerrabethia, but, due to their inability to transform, the pack has since remained in Jorryn. In her words, it was better battling the wrath of Nature's winters as wolves, rather than the brutish medieval town that'll enslave them as monsters.

But not everything was lost.

"Only Lykaios bears that gift," Luna informed me one night, pointing a claw to her silver eye. "We call it the Sight. Like my father before, and the alpha before him, it is passed down."

"Like an heirloom of sorts."

"Yes. The Sight is meant to protect the clan from any outside threats that we cannot handle."

She lowered her eyes. "But he abuses it... too much."

Luna wasn't wrong. It was clear a few nights before, when Lykaios nearly killed me for the sheer pleasure of dominion. Just a thought allowed him complete control over my body. And although I was never the type of dragon who'd dare submit to a morsel beneath my shadow, my inability to fight only fueled his lust. In the end, greed overwhelmed my anguish. Greed imprisoned me here to die.

And, had Luna not been here to save me, greed would have won.

"But you have another gift?" I then asked the werewolf as I gnawed upon a bone. She shrugged.

"In a way," came her response as she settled upon her haunches. "Shifting is normal to our kind. My pack would always turn human, to blend in with the townsfolk. We'd seek their gifts, their stories, and all their secrets in hopes to boost our chances at survival. Mother did it all the time... until..."

"Until?"

"Until my friend... was killed," Luna forced out. And my scales twitched in shock. Oddly enough, guilt was the first feeling that twisted a knot in my stomach, despite not being part of the story at bay. So I growled in lieu of my insolence, nudging the bone away and settling closer to the wolf in hopes to learn more.