Synopsis
Complex and intriguing, Dragon Fire introduces us to the magical world of dragons and how they lived. Their strong character and extraordinary abilities deliver an amazing adventure into our wondering of the mysteries of dragons. Mythical beauty, daring solutions and ancient secrets are not only revealed, but explored in fascinating ways that will leave readers heart-filled and wholly inspired. "One day we will be called upon. In that day we will be asking ourselves to leave everything that is familiar. It is then that each one must drink of the more-of-that-which-we-are. It is then that we must turn from all that we have been and face that which we are becoming. It is then that the Ancient Ones will weep at our splendor!" -- Zog, Winzoarian of all Dragons
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
Chapter One Those Beasts of Fire called Dragons Long ago, when the land was populated with fairies, gnomes and wizards, there lived with much grace and dignity, those beasts of fire and hearts of love called dragons. Together they resided not only in the mountains, but also on the grassy plains where they brought their young to bask in the warmth of the sun, to play and to spread their wings in the open air. Until their wings are fully-grown, dragon inglets cannot fly alone or lift off the mountain. Zoanna had been such an inglet and during her youth held great impatience for the growth of her wings. She was continually spreading them to gaze upon the size of her fan, knowing for certain with her fully developed eye gauging that they were growing - just not fast enough. Her frequent examination developed her wing muscles to such a degree that she later became the Grand Damme of the entire Dragon Floggen as she could soar to great heights for greater lengths of time. Often she flew alone. None others were capable of flying with her. It was during such a flight that she met Zog, her future mate, who also was quite accustomed to flying alone for similar reasons. As she and her two young ones now basked in the sun, she remembered those times with fondness. The mating ritual of dragons being one of flight and fire, strength and surrender, and merging while in flight, Zog and Zoanna had flown together in such manners with an intensity never before felt among any Floggen. Their ritual had lasted for twice the usual fifty years. While they had rested their depleted beings in the caverns of the great mountain, the fairies and gnomes had come about them to breathe a breath upon their hides, to caress their folded wings and to place drops of golden elixir into their mouths. Cared for in this manner, they had slept for thirty years. The birthing rhythm of their inglets had nudged them to awakened states of stretching, yawning, breathing fire and thunderous releasing of the remnants of their passions. Zoanna basked in such a memory as she watched her two inglets. Kleeana, her first born, examined her opened golden wings; while Mothan breathed his fiery breath into the wind. Her life was full, and the land supported that richness with its abundant food and deep clear waters. In truth, never had the land and its inhabitants resided in a better flowing. It was near the time of Sleecha, when the first leaves and flowers burst forth upon the valley land before the mountain trees even awakened, that she rested upon the sweet grasses and that the Golden Era began to lose its glow. A dark cloud rumbled overhead and when Zoanna lifted her long neck to bring her head in view of the cloud, she was stunned by the sight of not a rumbling cloud but that of her beloved Zog, efforting to fly, struggling with tattered wings and plundered body. Dark smoke flowed from his nostrils where raging fire familiarly called her name as he approached. Not to the field, although it seemed to be the easiest journey s end, but to the mountain did he go. With groaning effort, he lifted his wings again and again until he was at the entryway of their home. Zoanna whistled her anxious breath to her two young ones, and they climbed upon her great strong back. Once they had attached their claws into the grooves grown during the last seventeen years as the two did develop, she unfolded her great wings, wafted them once and lifted her graceful body into the sky. With swift strong movements, she flew toward the mountain and the great puffs of dark smoke. The fairies gathered the inglets, while Zoanna breathed her fiery breath into the green covered nostrils of Zog. His body fluids were depleting even as she worked to save him. The gnomes carried containers of oil and ginseng root to place upon his wounds and torn secondary, gossamer wings. Zog lay quietly still, not exerting dwindling energies in an effort to spill forth the tale of his injuries and more so, the onslaught of darkness only four dragon-flying days away. Yet what was the need to even quickly compute in his mind how soon or how much longer their paradise would remain undisturbed? He had barely flown the last farthem and now here he lay, forcing himself to replenish his strength that he might lead his family and their Floggen either in battle or in flight. Such decisions would require his full abilities to future journey within the realm of possibilities . Zoanna waited until Zog s breathing became regular and unlabored before releasing her focus upon his life force. Her keen but loving gaze flowed over his wounds, some deep into his flesh beneath the thick armor-like layer. She remembered his journey to the Neterlund, where he remained with the wizards until together they had transformed his hide into thick platelets, denser than the mountain s inner core. Zog, however, had insisted on remaining longer with the wizards to form the fluid underbase upon which the platelets rested, giving him the ability to change form in mid-flight. It was the fluid underbase now that Zoanna breathed her soft breath upon, inviting the memory of its creation to take form once again and allowing herself to wonder what force could have found its mark beneath the platelets and prevented her beloved s transforming. She wondered why Zog hadn t used his symbols to remove himself from sight or detection.
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