Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 147649 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 738(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147649 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 738(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
Madeline growls behind me from her corner of shadows. I turn, squinting my eyes to see her better in the darkness. She’s… gone again.
I like that she’s a dragon. Rather, I will like that she’s a dragon. One day.
It’s just… it’s going to take so long for her to mature and be something more than a fiery beast. Thousands of years, probably. I’m willing to wait, that’s not my problem. It was so nice to have a real friend. A girlfriend. A partner. Someone to talk to. And I know I have Pie, and Pell, and the monsters, but I want Madeline.
The other Madeline. Or even future Madeline.
Present-day Madeline is nothing but anger and fire. And that’s fine. I’ve been there. All dragons go through this. It’s just that she and I aren’t even the same species at the moment.
Which is also fine. Neither are Pell and me. Or Pie.
But… we were, weren’t we? Madeline and me. We were the same. Just a few weeks ago we were going on dates, and talking, and laughing, and falling in love.
And now we’re… strangers, really.
And the babies won’t be any better. They will take just as long to come out of their instinctual destructive stage and be something I can relate to.
It’s wrong to want to skip the journey and get right to the happily ever after, I know this. But I can’t help myself. I feel like I’ve been on the journey. I’ve done it. And now that I’m on the other end, I’m going to have to do it again.
It just doesn’t feel fair.
And, really, how important is it that dragons destroy things with fire for a thousand years before they mature and come to their senses? Isn’t it a waste?
Madeline said so herself. She said she’d rather be dead. Which is awful. And now it feels like my duty to snap her out of this, or perhaps push her forward. The babies, as well.
I scan the wall of gemstone doorknobs and feel like the answer is right here in front of me. One of these destinations includes the future.
But which one? If I try them all I’ll be here for a thousand years. Maybe that’s overly dramatic, but it will take a long time.
Just as I think these words, the sanctuary above me rumbles and shakes, making little rocks crumble off the celling and rain down on me like hail.
I don’t think we have much time. I think I need to hurry this process along.
Which makes me think of my ring. I raise my hand up to study the ring. It’s silver and mostly plain. Except for the inscription, which is telling me to Be the dragon.
Being the dragon is a bad thing.
Isn’t it?
Is that all we are? Nothing but destruction?
Why bother, really? Why bother with such a creature? Surely we have some other purpose in this world. We must.
I sigh. These are all thoughts for another time. Right now, I need to find a safe place for us.
Once again, I stare at the wall of gemstone doorknobs. If I just pluck them out, one by one, it’s nothing but luck and chance.
But if I perhaps put some direction behind this plucking then maybe we can skip the journey and—
Another rumbling from the sanctuary above pauses my thoughts. I look up, then immediately regret it because crumbling pieces of ceiling fall into my eye and I have to rub them out. But as I’m doing this I have an idea.
A spelling.
Yes. That’s brilliant. If I use a ring, and a door, and a doorknob, and a spelling—well, what could go wrong? It seems like an unbeatable combination, if you ask me.
The problem is, I’m not much of a poet. So this might take a while. I wouldn’t want to get this wrong, now would I? I could send us somewhere terrible.
So I need a very good spelling. Something spectacular.
I walk over to the nest and settle on the edge, letting my attention wander while I stare at my beautiful, bruise-colored eggs as everything above me starts to fall apart.
4
Once I sit down and direct my attention to rhyming words with meaning, I find that I am a very creative person. I told Pell I was complicated, and look, it’s true. One never knows what one is capable of until one tries. Isn’t that how the saying goes?
At any rate, here is what I come up with:
A man of honor, I have been
I deserve a place, a den.
A home where family can reside
A lovely place for my new bride.
It’s good. I like it. Gets to the point. I have earned my place. Paid my dues, so to speak. And now the gods of doorways should give me a reward.
But when I go over to the doorknobs and try to pluck one out of the wall, it doesn’t budge. “What the—”