***************

The sun shone down hotly on Ash, Misty, Brock and Pikachu as they traveled leisurely through the green countryside. It was a beautiful day, with a cool breeze keeping the heat from becoming oppressive and not a cloud in the azure jewel of the sky. For once, they weren’t running away from infuriated Pokemon or Team Rocket or any other of the numerous dangers that always seemed to show up on days like this. They were just enjoying a walk down a wide road that led through the rolling scenery, with nothing but the softly sloping hills surrounding them.

"Where are we now?" Misty wondered. Even her usual quick temper was evaporating under the nice weather.

Brock studied the map in his hands, a thoughtful frown on his face. "Well . . . nowhere, according to this map."

"Huh? What do you mean, Brock?" Ash asked, peering over the tall boy’s arm to look.

"Well, here’s where we were." Brock pointed to the last city they had passed through. "And here’s the direction we’re heading in." His finger slid northward. "See, there’s nothing written here. It’s just the road we’re on, and blank space."

"That’s weird," Misty commented. "I thought maps were suppose to tell you where you’re going."

Ash gazed around at the unchanging landscape of green hills. "Maybe it doesn’t show anything here because there is nothing here."

The other two picked their heads up from the projection of the land and looked around. "Good point," Misty acknowledged. "The mapmakers must have skipped this part because it was so boring."

"We can just keep going until we hit the next city. Then I’ll get my next badge!" Ash said. "What is it, anyway?"

"The closest city’s six days from here if we follow this road: Sankton City," reported Brock.

"Six days? I don’t want to walk through this boring place for six days," Misty complained. "Isn’t there some shorter route?"

"Pika pi!" Pikachu spoke up. Ash looked down at his feet. The little yellow Pokemon pulled on his jeans leg.

"What is it, Pikachu?" he asked his Pokemon.

"Chu pi!" It pointed down the road.

Ash stared ahead. "Hey guys, take a look at that."

"Huh?" Misty and Brock followed his lead.

"I think it’s a forest," Ash added. And it was. A dark green line of trees thrust up from the ground just within the limits of sight, slightly off to the left of the rode they were currently on.

"And that’s the direction of Sankton City," Brock told them. "If we cut through there it should cut our trip in half at least."

"Well, what are we waiting for?" asked Misty. "Come on Pikachu, I’ll race ya!" She laughed and shot ahead. The little Pokemon wasn’t far behind, and Brock and Ash quickly brought up the rear. With the bright day and the high spirits it was no time at all until they were standing before the closely grown tree line. The trees were full-leafed and green as only trees in springtime could be; everything brimmed with the song of life. They noticed a Pidgey or two flitting from branch to branch, and a flock of Spearows took off at the sound of their approach. Ash thought he saw a Diglett peering at them from under a bush, but when he blinked it was gone.

Pikachu scampered off the road a few feet, then stopped and turned around. "Pika chu!" it called back to them.

"Look, Pikachu’s found a path," Ash pointed. They would never have noticed if the electric Pokemon hadn’t found it. It was wildly overgrown, with only a few bare spots of hard-packed dirt showing through the long grass to even tell there was one to begin with. It was at least as wide as Brock was tall, leading from the road between two trees and into the wood.

"Um, maybe we should just stay on the road," Brock hedged. "That path doesn’t look like its been used in a long time. Wouldn’t a path cutting the travel time to a city in half be more worn? And this forest isn’t even on the map."

Ash swallowed nervously. "Maybe there’s something in there nobody wants to disturb."

Misty brushed a strand of short red hair out of her eyes and snorted a laugh. "Don’t tell me you macho men are scared. It’s just a bunch of trees and wild Pokemon. I’ll prove it." She trotted past Pikachu and into the trees. Cupping her hands around her mouth, she called deeper into the forest, "Hellooooooooo. Anybody in there?" Upon hearing no reply, she turned back to her friends. "See? Nothing. Besides, Ash, I bet there’s lots of interesting Pokemon in those woods. You could find something that would really show up Gary Oaks."

"Oh, that Gary!" snarled the young Pokemon trainer. "Come on Pikachu, let’s go!" The pair led the way along the wild path.

Misty watched them pass her as Brock came up, folding the map with a sigh. "You knew that was going to work, didn’t you?" he asked, resigned.

"Yup," the girl smirked.

* * *

Despite Brock and Ash’s early uncertainty, the trip through the forest proved uneventful. The full, thick trees cast the undergrowth in dark green shadow, but on the path the sun still shone down brightly. They sometimes caught a glimpse of one wild Pokemon or another, but the easily spooked creatures always disappeared before any action could be taken, often before they could even be identified.

The minutes passed uneventfully, turning to hours as the fiery orb climbed higher and higher in the bowl of the sky. By the time it reached the peak of its arc the gentle wind had long since died away. Fortunately the shadows around them cooled the forest air. This wood was obviously a nice habitat for plants and Pokemon alike.

Ahead, two large oaks stood parallel to each other on either side of the path like twin sentinels. Their branches met overhead and twined together, making a canopy of leaves that didn’t permit so much as a single ray of sunshine to filter to the ground below. As the four travelers neared their attention was drawn toward it, mainly because the oaks were by far bigger than the rest of the trees in the woods, and because the sun shone so brightly on the rest of the path the space under loomed like a tunnel of darkness.

"Chu?" Pikachu marveled softly. The little yellow Pokemon bounded forward to get a closer look, so it was several yards ahead of Ash, Brock and Misty when something happened.

"HAULT!" an angry voice suddenly thundered all around them, making all four jump. It seemed to come from every direction at once. "WHO GOES THERE?" The voice was deep and loud, rage dripped from every word. There was no mistaking this voice had malevolent intentions.

"Pi!" Pikachu cried in fear, running back to Ash as fast as it could and wrapping itself around his ankles. He could feel the little Pokemon’s quivers vibrating his whole body. But Misty had beaten Pikachu in timing. She had shrieked and jumped behind Brock at the first booming word.

They obeyed the voice and froze. Ash didn’t have much of a choice. If he tried to walk any farther he’d end up flat on his face. "It’s all right, Pikachu," he told his Pokemon.

"Ka," it shivered quietly, refusing to release him. He didn’t understand why it was so afraid. Pikachu was a brave fighter. Why did something as simple as an angry voice frighten it so much? Ash wondered . . . .

"I’M STILL WAITING!" the voice rumbled.

"Geesh, angry and impatient," Misty sniffed.

Putting his other thoughts aside, Ash called out loudly, "We’re just passing through! We won’t be a bother to anyone!"

There was silence for a moment. Then, "SO YOU SAY, BUT HOW CAN I KNOW YOUR REAL INTENTIONS?"

"And skeptical too," added Brock. Misty nodded in agreement.

"What?" cried Ash in exasperation, still addressing the voice. "What do you want from us, a blood oath?"

"HMMM. NO, BUT IF YOU LEAVE YOUR LITTLE YELLOW PET WITH ME AS INSENTIVE UNTIL YOU ARE THROUGH MY WOOD I’LL ALLOW YOU SAFE PASSAGE."

"Pika!" Pikachu shrieked, tightening its hold on Ash’s legs. The poor little guy’s day wasn’t turning out to be as nice as it had seemed when they had started.

"No deal!" Ash immediately answered.

A deep growl echoed and re-echoed through the trees. Oops, he had made it even madder, whatever it was. Well, who cares? he thought angrily. He wasn’t going to give Pikachu to any stupid voice, especially not in its current state. "Pika chu," the Pokemon whimpered pitifully.

The voice chose that moment to roar, "IF THAT IS YOUR DECISION, THEN SO BE IT. PREPARE FOR BATTLE!"

Brock and Misty backed away. Ash knew he couldn’t call out Pikachu, that would be setting the little guy up for defeat. No one could fight well if they were terrified. And he couldn’t send in any of his other Pokemon. What if whatever was happening to Pikachu happened to them? One Pokemon paralyzed with fear was enough. Ash decided this was one battle he was going to have to fight on his own.

So they waited . . . and waited. Minutes passed and nothing happened, no combatants (Pokemon or otherwise) appeared. Misty and Brock hesitantly returned, even Pikachu eventually slid off Ash and quivered on the ground by his foot. Confused, he asked his friends lowly, "What do you think happened?" They shook their heads, just as clueless.

"UM, AREN’T YOU GOING TO RUN AWAY IN FEAR?" the voice asked hesitantly. It had lost some of its intimidation, but none of its volume.

Believing the voice’s words betrayed its true nature, Ash grinned triumphantly. "Looks like this guy’s bark is worse than his bite!" he declared. He strode forward confidently toward the towering oaks.

"Be careful Ash," Brock called after him.

He just waved the cautions aside. "What’s the matter?" the black-haired boy taunted the forest and its invisible speaker. "Afraid you can’t handle us?"

The answer was an impossibly huge column of flames, shooting down from the overhead branches scant feet from Ash! A wall of fire sprang up across the dirt path to block their way, as if some flammable substance had been laid across and ignited by the sudden attack. Ash threw up his arm to protect his face, but the intense heat still drove him back to the others.

"‘Its bark is worse than its bite,’" Misty mimicked sarcastically. "Good going Ash."

"Well how was I suppose to know?" he countered angrily. "Anyway, I bet that’s just a Charmander or a Vulpix or some other fire Pokemon in those oak trees."

Misty snorted. "Yeah right, a talking Charmander."

"Oh, and what’s your great idea?"

"Guys, we don’t have time for this!" interrupted Brock hastily. "Those flames are going to spread and this whole forest will catch fire!" As if the tall boy had just thought of it as he said it, he turned from Misty and Ash to look himself.

Both arguers forgot their heated debate and turned their attention back to the flame barrier as well. But to everyone’s surprise, the fire wasn’t spreading at all. The original assault had stopped as quickly as it had begun, and the wall of fire neither died down nor grew any larger. The oak trees to either side and above weren’t even beginning to blacken.

"That’s strange," Ash commented. A streak of yellow shooting by his feet startled him. "Pikachu? Wait!"

"Pika!" it called back confidently. Its earlier fear seemed to have vanished as suddenly as it had appeared. A familiar crackle filled the air and yellow light flashed around the Pokemon. Before anyone could say anything more Pikachu’s electric attack shot up into the oak branches.

"Ow!" This new voice wasn’t loud or intense, and it was unmistakably human. A sharp crack resonated through the woods like a gunshot as a large limb snapped and someone tumbled from overhead, straight into the flames below! Ash, Misty and Brock gasped but knew they wouldn’t be able to do anything in time. Then, the fire wasn’t there anymore. Each blinked to assure him or herself they weren’t imagining things. They weren’t. The fire hadn’t blown out or died down, it was just gone. Not even smoke remained as whoever had been hiding above fell onto the path with a muffled, "Oof."

The "whoever," they soon saw, was a young teenage girl. She wore a tattered dark green T-shirt with jeans and hiking boots, brown hair cropped raggedly short around her ears, and a beige backpack rested between her shoulder blades, saved from a hard impact with the ground by the angle of her fall. Even as they watched she tried to push herself to her feet. But the moment she put her weight on her right ankle a yelp she couldn’t quite swallow escaped her lips and she sank back to the ground.

The sound shook the friends out of their stupor. Pikachu was already springing forward, chattering so fast that not even Ash could keep up with it. The others weren’t far behind.

It wasn’t ten feet away when the girl’s head snapped up like a puppet on a string. Her eyes widened with fear. "Keep away from me," she gasped shrilly, trying to hide the pain she was obviously in.

Brock, Misty and Ask slowed, not wanting to frighten her. Pikachu stopped and cocked its head, its black-tipped ears flopping over on one side. "Chu?" it asked.

"Don’t worry, Pikachu won’t hurt you," Ash assured the strange girl. He stopped beside his Pokemon. "Are you okay?"

"I’m fine," she snapped shortly. "Just stay where you’re are." Again she tried to stand. She was halfway up before her right leg gave out. Misty saw what was about to happen and started forward to catch her. She never got there.

Something hurdled out of the oak branches above so fast Ash and Brock didn’t even have time to give a shout of warning to the redheaded girl. It fell on her heavily, knocking her back with its momentum. The air shot out of her in a whoosh as she hit the ground, and Misty found herself looking into angry green eyes inches from her own.

"Misty!" Ash and Brock cried together, but neither moved. The thing that had landed on her, that now sat on her chest, a sharply taloned foot on each shoulder, was unlike anything either had ever seen before. It was about the same size as Pikachu, entirely covered in emerald green scales. It almost looked like a cross between a Dragonite and a Charizard, except it wasn’t roly-poly like the former, it had none of the latter’s brute power, and it rested on four feet instead of two. It was lithe, with a long thin neck matching its tail. Instead of feelers or a spike on top of its head it had a pair of pointed, equine ears. Between them rose a row of lighter green spines that traveled down the neck to the very tip of the tail. A pair of Golbat-like wings, though now folded, were just behind its shoulders. Its face was a long snout, with a small horn between its nostrils and huge, entirely lime green eyes with circular black pupils. These were locked solely on Misty.

"What is it?" Ash asked quietly aside to Brock. He shook his head, just as mystified.

"I don’t care what it is, just get it offa me!" ground out Misty through gritted teeth. The creature let loose a long, low growl. Thin lips pulled back to reveal the sharp teeth of a carnivore. She gulped nervously.

"Come here, Stormweaver." The teenager had managed to climb to her feet, with the aid of a fallen branch. She leaned heavily on the makeshift walking stick with one hand, the other curled around a strap of her backpack. Ash noticed something he hadn’t seen when she was on the ground: one of her eyes was a warm brown, the other turquoise blue, and both gazed at them with open suspicion. Her hair, though still hacked short, actually had strands of gold and auburn mixed throughout the brown. She might actually have been pretty if she wasn’t so wild looking. Not that Ash noticed that kind of thing or anything.

The green beast grudgingly climbed off the female member of the traveling quartet at her command. It stalked by Pikachu on all fours with a malicious stare to stand before the girl protectively. Even though it barely came up to her knees, the black look it gave them said it could take them all on anyway.

"Pi!" the electric rodent squealed at the glare, scurrying behind Ash’s legs. He blinked as he suddenly figured it out. That was what was frightening Pikachu so badly . . . whatever it was.

Ash hadn’t been the only one to notice the girl. Brock was struggling to keep from falling into his "pretty girl" mode. The look of the Stormweaver told him in no uncertain terms that it would be a very bad idea if he did. Fortunately for him she was tall enough to be almost gawky, and her mismatched eyes had a certain, unidentifiable look that dismissed any such notions. With only a moment of wavering he managed to bring his troublesome Achilles’ Heel under control.

"Stormweaver?" Ash was asking. "I’ve never heard of a Stormweaver Pokemon before." He pulled out Dexter, his Pokedex, and pointed it at the creature as Misty stood up and brushed herself off, grumbling just loud enough to let everyone know how thrilled she was.

"Cannot find match. Not a Pokemon," beeped the hand-held machine.

Ash was prepared for any response but that. "Not a Pokemon?!" he yelled.

"Not a Pokemon?!" Brock and Misty echoed.

"Pika?" Pikachu added.

"If it’s not a Pokemon, then what is it?"

The girl raised an eyebrow at their responses. "Of course he’s not a Pokemon. You really don’t know?" All four shook their heads. "Hmm." Lost in thought, she nodded to herself. "Perhaps enough time has finally passed for them to forget," she murmured, then focused her duo-colored eyes on them once more. "I’ll trust you’ll now be leaving my forest? Right now." Then she turned on her stick without so much as another glance and began hobbling slowly away, out of the shade of the massive oak giants. The creature, Stormweaver, gave them one last look of disdain before turning his back on them and taking off with a few flaps of his leathery wings. He caught up to the girl and flew with her, slightly above her left shoulder.

"Huh?" They stared after the two strangers until Ash cried out, "Wait!" and took off running after them. "That voice we heard, it said it owned these woods—"
"That was me, genius," she replied without turning around.

"But how—"

"I owe you no explanation. Now go!"

Please, we don’t know exactly where we are and—"

For the third time the girl cut him off. She whirled carefully to face him. "There’s the path. Turn around. Keep going. Now go!" Stormweaver hovered in place and growled for emphasis.

Suddenly Ash extended his hand. "I’m Ash Ketchum," he told her.

Taken completely by surprise, the girl didn’t have a quick reply. Heavy silence descended on the forest while Ash could do nothing but worry he’d made the wrong decision. Finally she sighed and took the offered hand in her own. "Aurora." Stormweaver stared at the girl in shock, then frowned fiercely at the ten-year-old before settling onto her shoulder lightly, perching like a large reptilian bird.

"Nice to meet you, Aurora," Ash responded cheerfully. "That’s Brock, Misty and Pikachu. We really didn’t mean to trespass. We’re heading for Sankton City, on the other side of this forest."

Slowly, very slowly, Aurora smiled too. Her eyes cleared of the last traces of anger. "I realize you don’t know about these woods," she said by way of an apology. "The path joins a road leading right to the city after it clears the trees at the other end. The populace stays well away from here. It’s suppose to be haunted, you know." She winked her blue eye to show him exactly where that rumor started. "We don’t appreciate visitors."

"Why not?" Ash wondered as Misty, Brock and Pikachu convinced themselves that some sort of truce had been reached and cautiously approached.

They neared in time to hear Aurora sigh again. "It’s a long story. We’re the only ones here, Stormweaver and I. Other than the Pokemon, of course."

"Doesn’t that get lonely?" Misty asked sympathetically.

Instead of answering, Aurora cocked her head slightly and studied the little group fixedly. After a few seconds under the mismatched gaze even Ash began to feel uneasy, but abruptly the strange girl laughed. Nobody looked more surprised at the soft sound than Stormweaver. His wings rustled slightly and he curled his long tail around her backpack as if he was trying to catch his balance.

Apparently some sort of decision had been made. Aurora tried to put on a front of grudging acceptance, but she wasn’t trying all that hard. "Look, it’s at least a day and a night before you get out of here. Why don’t we escort you until you get to the end?"

"I thought you didn’t appreciate visitors," Ash reminded her.

"Well, we don’t. But I’m in a good mood, I’ll let you through. Of course, the only way to make sure you don’t cause any trouble in my forest is to keep my eye on you." She winked her blue eye again. Then she lowered her voice playfully. "Besides, Stormweaver is just dying to learn that electric move that knocked me out of the tree."

Before they could reply to that the scaled creature squawked in outrage. "I do not!" he screeched indignantly in a sharp, grating voice. He stared at them angrily in the sudden silence that descended. "And just what are you looking at?"

Brock was the first to recover from the shock. His mouth snapped shut with an audible click. "Wha-what is S-Stormweaver, exactly?"

Aurora laughed again good-naturally. "I’ll bet you all have lots of questions. Let’s get started. I’ll answer as many as I can." She turned heavily on her walking stick and set out down the path. Because of her twisted ankle—she assured them that that was all it was—her pace was slow and easy, but Brock and Misty didn’t mind as they followed her.

"Pika," Pikachu gestured before Ash could join his friends.

"What is it, Pikachu?" He crouched down and the Pokemon leapt into his arms. "Oh, you just want a ride," Ash grinned as it scrambled onto his shoulders.

"Chu!" Pikachu confirmed. Ash hurried to catch up with the others and fell in step with Aurora.

* * *

Despite her promise to answer their questions, for a long time no one spoke. Aurora’s speed quickened as she got use to leaning most of her weight on the walking stick. Ash, Misty and Brock didn’t try to strike up a conversation. Instead they took in the scenery. Trees stood silent as far as the eye could see on either side of the wide path. It was easy to believe the forest was as large as Aurora had said it was.

After some time Misty decided the silence had gone on for long enough. "Well, aren’t you going to tell is what that Stormweaver of yours is?"

"Oh. Well. Um, Stormweaver is a . . . a. . . ." She cleared her throat uncomfortably. "Forgive me. You’re the first people I’ve ever tried to tell this to. We haven’t even had visitors in a rather long time. Like I said, the populace of Sankton knows better than to come here. And I’ve always succeeded in scaring off strangers, before you anyway. Guess that means you’re more stubborn than most."

"Well," sniffed Misty. "It’s certainly stubbornness with Ash, but with me it’s just bravery."

Ash opened his mouth to retort, but Pikachu interrupted him before he could begin. The Pokemon and the emerald beast had been staring steadily eye-to-eye for some time. "Pi chu?" it abruptly asked the beast.

The lime eyes turned to the Pokemon thoughtfully, without a trace of the contempt they held when gazing at Ash, Brock and Misty. "Pika," Stormweaver replied. "Pika chu."

"Pika!" cried Pikachu happily. They settled into a rapid dialogue of "pi’s," "ka’s," and the occasional "chu."

It was hard to be even more surprised than they already were, but they managed to pull it off. "He speaks English and Pikachu?" Ash asked in amazement.

"Oh yes," Aurora nodded. "Dragons have the gift of language. They can understand almost anyone."

Brock shook his head. "I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard you quite right. Did you just say . . . ."

"Yes, I did." Her tone dared them to laugh, and told them plainly what she would do if they did.

"I thought dragons were just fantasy," Misty said carefully.

"Exactly. Stormweaver, do you mind? It’s very hard to hold a discussion when a dragon and a Pikachu are talking in your ear."

"Fine," he sniffed, leaping to the ground. Pikachu followed suit and the two strolled ahead, deep in conversation.

Aurora smiled fondly after them. "As I was saying, not many today know about them. Most think there are only two peoples in this world: the humans, and Pokemon. Long ago the third was common knowledge. The dragons were few, and they lived solitary lives in remote places, only joining briefly to mate. But they were real, and everyone knew it. Not the stuff of myth and legend as they are now.

"Unfortunately, because they hardly even socialized much among themselves, let alone other species, no one knew how intelligent they really were. A few Pokemon Masters tried to capture them to train, but they refused to fight. A dragon works for no one, save himself." Her eyelids closed over her brown and blue eyes and a sorrowful look covered her face. "So people thought they were stupid animals, worse than Pokemon. As the human population grew and spread, they moved into the dragons’ territories. Turned it into more hospitable areas—for humans. And they grew angry when the dragons fought back. It was their homes, after all.

"Two human families, the Sangos and the Merlacs, brought it all to a peak. The families had been fighting for years, and finally an uneasy peace was made between them, though it was on paper only. No one from either side wanted to back down and admit they couldn’t eventually beat the other. But while each new generation of Sango was becoming more good-natured and accepting than the last, as the Merlacs were evolving they only discovered new ways of treachery and deceit. They were just looking for a reason to start the feuding again."

"And the dragons were perfect targets, right?" Brock hazarded.

"Yes," Aurora sighed. "While the dragons were fighting harder and harder against the bias opinions that plagued them, the more flexible of the Sangos discovered their plight and wanted to learn more. They sent their most trusted pupil of knowledge—a now legendary young man among the Sangos named Jeremy—to their lairs in the mountains. He didn’t return for months, and the months stretched into a year; the Sangos feared they had been wrong about the strange creatures. But one day he unexpectedly showed up at the Sango Manor, a year older and many years wiser. He told his story to the entire house of Sango, how the dragons were really intelligent creatures, that they just wanted to be left alone to live their solitary lives. The Sangos decided to help the prejudice situation."

"Why did they want to help the dragons?" Misty wanted to know. "Didn’t they have more important things to worry about, like the Merlacs?"

"It was because of the Merlacs," the brown-haired girl replied, "that they felt the way they did. Some of the elderly were still alive when the two families had fought openly, and most regretted the cost of the battles. The Sangos had a saying, when describing something stupid or pointless—‘What a Pokemonless thing to do.’—because even the Pokemon refused to befriend a Sango or a Merlac when the two families had fought."

Ash looked shocked. "You mean a Pokemon wouldn’t let them capture it?"

"I’ve heard of that happening," Brock agreed. "Pokemon aren’t just mindless animals, they have feelings and thoughts just like we do. Remember those Diglett at the site of that new dam in the mountains? The Pokemon refused to fight them, because they knew what we didn’t."

"Oh yeah," Ash remembered. "So what happened with the Sangos and the Merlacs?"

"Well, with the treaty still in place, even if just on paper, the Sangos were safe for the moment. They sent a party up to the mountain lairs to propose to help. The dragons were suspicious at first, but do you blame them? They finally convinced them they really did want to help. Some left on journeys, to spread the word about the truth of the dragons. Some braver souls stayed with the dragons, protecting their homes against other people that came to try to force the dragons out. Eventually the Sangos became known as ‘dragonfriends.’ Each Sango child was raised beside the dragons, sharing knowledge and fellowship and protection.

"But not long after the Sangos began their crusade to save the dragons, the Merlacs discovered their intentions. It wasn’t hard; the Sangos openly defended the dragons and spread the word to whoever would listen. And the Merlacs greedily took this information, and plotted to use it against them."

Misty gasped. "They used the dragons to get to the Sangos?" she exclaimed. Aurora closed her eyes and nodded. A sparkle of wetness appeared under her eyelids.

"But that’s not fair!" Ash cried. "The dragons weren’t a part of their fight!"

"Life’s not often fair," Aurora said bitterly. "The Merlacs named themselves ‘dragonslayers’ and resolved to hunt down any dragon associating with the Sangos. They thought it would not only drive away the creatures their enemies were trying to help, but also anger the Sangos into restarting the rivalry. Instead, it had the opposite affect. Dragons have a proud sense of honor. They had accepted the aid of the Sangos, and they refused to take back that agreement. Instead they declared the Merlacs their enemies as well. The dragonslayers changed their policy, and soon any dragon crossing their path was in a fight for his life. Mothers, fathers, hatchlings, even nests of eggs. Nothing gained their mercy. They slaughtered them all, one by one. The Sangos redoubled their efforts to protect their friends, but while they had spent the years accumulating knowledge, the dragonslayers had spent them learning how to fight and how to win."

There was a little silence, each person giving silent respect to the unjust story painted with eerie clarity in their minds. Finally Misty asked quietly, "None of the dragons survived?"

Aurora shook her head. "Not one."

Ash frowned, confused. "But what about Stormweaver?"

The girl smiled a little. "Ah, that was the dragons’ greatest success. Near the end, the last female dragon—a soft golden-yellow named Brightmorning—knew the dragons could not survive the dragonslayers’ attacks. She had a nest of eggs, the last of the unborn, and had kept it a secret from both human and dragon, hiding it in a location only revealed to a chosen few over the years. Then she went to her most trusted dragonfriend, a woman named Anna Sango, and desperately told her of her fear for her eggs. It was a dangerous move, because a pair of dragonslayers had found her and was on her trail. But she went, and asked Anna to protect the secret of the nest’s position while she lured the dragonslayers away. Anna vowed to keep them safe with her life.

"So Brightmorning left her friend for the final time—for all knew there was no escape once a dragonslayer targeted you—and Anna kept her word. She secretively watched over the place where the eggs rested and waited for them to hatch. But time passed without so much as a crack. Long after the last dragon took his dying breath she vigilantly protected them, until she was an old gray woman. And still, perhaps sensing that for now it was a world that hated dragons, the eggs didn’t hatch.

"When Anna was too old to make the journey to the hidden spot, she called her grandson to her bedchamber. The ten-year-old boy listened silently as she told him the entire story of the plight of the dragons. The boy was amazed. He knew them only as tales whispered around a campfire to scare children. But he loved his grandmother, and believed her every word. He sneaked out of his home that night and ran to the place his grandmother had told him. There, he found the four round eggs still silent and waiting, just as she said. He swore then and there to protect them with all his heart and bring the baby dragons into the world safely.

"Anna Sango died content with the knowledge the vow she pledged would continue on in her grandson. He, too, grew up and found the eggs didn’t quake. When he married and had a daughter, he knew he would have to pass the knowledge on to her. He waited for her tenth birthday, like his own so many years ago, before taking her to the eggs. He hadn’t moved them. They had been undisturbed for almost three generations; he hadn’t dare move them and chance discovery."

Aurora lapsed into silence. It continued for so long that they wondered if the story was done, but finally she drew a deep breath that quivered. "B-but when the two returned to Sango Manor there was nothing left but a burned out husk of a home. Months later his daughter would discover an old friend had been eavesdropping as her father had told his story, and had betrayed them to the Merlacs. They had attacked after they left, knowing they could follow them to the nest but instead deciding to take their home by force first, for revenge, and then make them bring the eggs. She was frozen in terror by the sight of her destroyed home. Her father grabbed her by the arms before the Merlacs could notice their return. ‘Go back for them,’ he told her. ‘It’s up to you now. Protect them with your life. You have to bring dragons back into the world.’ Then he turned her around and shoved her back in the direction they had come.

"She stumbled, unsure and afraid. Her father didn’t even look back at her as he turned to the remains of Sango Manor. A cry of discovery went up as the Merlacs spotted him. Now she ran. Driven by fear and her father’s words she ran like she never had before, until her sides ached and her breath came in painful gasps. The sounds of battle floated to her on the breeze for far too long, but thankfully no one followed her. Her father’s quick thinking had saved her from detection.

"Reaching the location of the hidden nest by luck and will alone, she fell to her knees in exhaustion. And she wept. Wept for her lost father and her lost family and the heavy burden that had been placed on her young shoulders. Deep, wrenching sobs that tore from her throat and did nothing to ease the ache filling her chest. She knew the Merlacs would soon be after her. They knew she had been with her father, and they would figure out where she had gone easily. But she didn’t care. Her family was gone. She had nothing but the clothes on her back and four useless eggs.

"A small cry interrupted her grieving thoughts. Startled, she looked up. A tiny green creature crawled among the nest of eggs. Three eggs, and the remaining shards of one. It was smaller than her hand, blind and helpless and calling for its mother. And as it cried again her heart melted. All the grief, the pain, the tears were gone. This creature truly had no one, not another of its kind had been alive for years, and it would plainly die if she left it there. In the empty space in her heart a tiny warmth flared. This infant had no one but her. The story her father had told her returned. She was a Sango, a dragonfriend. And she promised herself these four were under her protection now."

Aurora’s tone made it clear the story was done. Stormweaver and Pikachu had long since ended their conversation and now walked alongside the four humans; the Pokemon listening with ears flat and tail drooped in sorrow at the horrible story, the dragon with an unreadable expression on his alien face.

Ash, Misty and Brock were silent. Somehow, "I’m sorry," didn’t seem appropriate. "But," Ash eventually realized, "if that dragon was Stormweaver, why isn’t he with that girl?"

Misty and Brock groaned. "Ash, you’re so dense," Misty griped. "Can’t you figure it out? She’s the girl!"

"What?" he exclaimed. "You mean you’re a—?"

"Sango," she said softly. "Aurora Sango, dragonfriend." Without warning her face twisted briefly in pain as her stick caught on a raised root in the path. Only a swift catch from Brock saved her from another spill on the ground. He felt the intense lime green eyes on him without looking down. Apparently it wasn’t only the human that protected the dragon. He quickly righted her. "Ow," she moaned. "Thanks, Brock." She looked skyward. "It’s getting dark. I have a campsite not far from here with space for a fire and running water. We should head there."

Ash looked up, surprised. He’d been so intent on Aurora’s story he hadn’t even noticed the setting sun. His stomach growled. "Good idea," he agreed.