Chapter 3

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The three-headed dragon was headed right for Deaglan. It seemed to be staring at him as it flew closer and closer. Five hundred meters. Now four hundred. It was coming right for him, its intent clear.

And again, Deaglan froze. Fire flew from each of its three mouths. He could feel the heat on his face. He could almost feel the grass catching alight around him. He was going to die. This time –

“Come on!” A hand grabbed Deaglan around the arm and literally dragged him from where he stood.

It was the girl. Awake, she had him by the arm and was pulling him with all her strength – more than he could have given her credit for – away from the cliff face.

“Are you crazy!” she yelled as he allowed for himself to be dragged. “What the hell were you doing?!”

“I’m dreaming!” He looked over his shoulder at the three-headed dragon. "If it kills me, do I wake up?"

Seeing that Deaglan was being dragged away from the cliff face and down the hill, the three-headed dragon changed its course. It turned sharply to the right, looking as if it were circling around so that it could attack from another direction.

“If it kills you, you die!” the girl shouted back. She still hadn’t let go of Deaglan, gripping his arm with what felt like talons as she dragged him to… he had no idea where. Where could they go? Where could they run from a dragon that breathed fire? It would literally burn anything and everything in their path.

His grandmother! She was still in the house, probably ignorant to what was happening just outside. At least until the entire house was burnt to cinders and ash around her.

Without thought or hesitation, and feeling something that was akin to bravery but not quiet on the same level, Deaglan pulled his arm from the girl's vice-like grip and sprinted back up the hill and toward his home.

“Hey!” she called out. “Moron! Where the heck are you –,” The rest of her words were lost as the three-headed dragon let rip another blood curdling screech.

He reached the house and threw the front door open. Barging inside, the walls did a little to stifle the noise... but nowhere near enough.

"Deag!"

"Ma!" Deaglan called. He raced through the home, looking for his grandmother.

Through the windows in the home he could see literal bursts of fire light up night sky. He tried to ignore it.

"Deag!" She waddled from the kitchen, looking about as frazzled as one would expect. When she saw Deaglan, she grabbed him by the arm. "Deag! Why is there an Ellen Trechend circling my house?"

"It's a – what?" What Deaglan had at first mistaken as fear and confusion in his grandmother, was more akin to determination and worry... but not for her own safety, instead for his. The sight of the dragon – or an Ellen Trechend as she called it – didn't concern her at all. She knew what it was. She had seen one! But how? "Grandma? What do you --"

She waved him off as if it weren’t important. Just then, the girl barged on inside. "And who is this?" His grandmother demanded at the sight of her. She put her hands on her hips and eyed the girl with some serious distaste. Deaglan had never brought a girl home before and if the situation were any different, the confrontation might have even been amusing.

"We’ve got to go. Now!" The girl ran into the room and reached for Deaglan.

Deaglan's grandmother grabbed Deaglan by the arm and pulled him back like he was a piñata. “Who are you, girl?”  

“Ma, I found her on the --”

“I’m here to help,” she cut Deaglan off. “And we really don’t --”

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